#i am unfortunately too cowardly to simply call out

[ohbeeones]

me needing to the right adulting thing and go to bed bc i have to be awake for work in a few hours and it’s a shift i can’t really phone in like i usually would on days like these bc i am training our new closer versus my very loud desire to reblog all the sunny content to get that sweet serotonin and maybe. just maybe. knock ocean gate off that #1 trending spot…

#og.post #for the record by phone in i mean literally just doing the bare minimum needed of me so i don’t get scolded from any of my bosses lol #i am unfortunately too cowardly to simply call out #mayhaps i will just reblog a few more. and then FORCIBLY put the phone down. bc i know i will hate myself in several hours if i don’t

[paladin-n-cleric]

Can I say something? I disagree with people saying that Will not being gay or byler not being canon isn't baiting. Not only because of what some of the cast says (Harbour and Finn, especially), but because there wouldn't be SO MANY articles each and every season debating and speculating whether or not Will is gay and likes Mike. Clearly there are more than enough clues that people pick up on that urge them to write those articles and ask the cast those questions. If this was something bylers just imagined out of thin air then we'd be the only ones talking about it but we're NOT. it's IN the show and it WOULD be baiting to hint and hint and hint and never go through with it so that they don't lose their homophobic audience. It's annoying and hurtful and cowardly. They called Will every slur in the book in s1, but won't do anything about it? Come on, dudes.

oh, will not being confirmed gay is absolutely queer-baiting. after volume 1, the car scene, the david and finn video, shawn levy’s response, and finn’s response, there shouldn’t be debate anymore. anyone viewing the show objectively would consider those things to be solid evidence. its not some “little gay people dream,” it’s solid proof that should have ended speculation by now. the articles should be titled ”will byers is gay,” they shouldn’t be asking anymore.

the factors i listed are the scraps of evidence that imo would be most convincing to any unbiased person. there are hundreds of other hints and clues, if we want to go there, but we can’t expect enough people to care, unfortunately. if the duffers go with ”we made it obvious he’s gay but we never actually get a coming out moment because it’s up to the audience’s interpretation and thats what makes it beautiful,” then its absolute bull. there will STILL be speculation, there will STILL be people claiming it wasn’t confirmed, or that it wasn’t queerbaiting.

as of now, however, i trust the duffers. their writing is incredible (although i will admit i buried my face in my hands at their portrayal of bullying) and i feel they will tackle this appropriately, even if we don’t see how it could work without someone getting heartbroken. i’m excited for wills coming out scene, but i’m worried it’ll be too implicit, too subtle for audience members who choose to watch with their eyes half closed, as many of them do. personally, i’m rooting for the coming out scene to be in hopper’s cabin, during which Will will give mike the painting, they will discuss his birthday (which i am certain the duffers did not simply forget), and they will open up. for me, an implicit yet obvious coming out scene is great, really, i love that kind if stuff. i perceived the byler car scene to be will’s coming out to the audience. yes, it was implicit, but i truly don’t see how its meaning is “up to interpretation,” just because Will didn’t speak outwardly about himself doesn’t mean it’s some hidden message.

however, anything implicit (not hinted, not “up to interpretation,” just simply not outright) will not pass with the general audience, and there will still be debate, which no, is not ”whats beautiful about it.” Will has to say something as good as ”i’m gay and in love with you, mike” in order for speculation to come to an end, which i think is embarrassing for the general audience.

this is much longer than i expected, but i suppose i had a lot to say on the matter. thank you for the ask! have a lovely day <3

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #st4 spoilers

[hoghtastic]

How would you know if someone has the same email address? you can only know that by hacking someone, if that is what you did or you so called friend (is he or she in the room with us?) then u hope you die from aids ❤️

wtf is wrong with you? leave that woman alone for fuckings sake.

and yes she had made her profile private for a long while, then deleted it and created a new one, which was on and off private for a while and you still feel the need to discredit her. are you so insecure about yourself that you cannot leave that girl alone while she did NOTHING to get any attention, just being stalked by a couple of people who either may have found out things OR interpreted things in a way that now is being interpreted in a very unfortunate way to discredit a person who hardly anyone knows anything about.

Also I DO have a couple of people I have talked to who had sent you stuff regarding this and your so called info about the allegedly same email address, and you had decided to post only half of it, by only screenshotting some of it and cutting out the things you didn't like.

me and a friend messaged that woman a couple of times and informed her about the things that were going on in case someone had or is really trying to hack her, sent her screens from the old blog and this one and she replied only one single thing. no text nothing. but a screenshot that showed that her ig is not even connected to any email address but ONLY her phone number and nothing else. so your "Source" is either yourself lying or someone lying and manipulating things. leave that woman alone, if you feel the need to do so, give your attention to someone who obviously enjoys it and not to someone who obviously is a private person (and either way past whatever there was or was not.)

excited to see if you once again will be so cowardly not post it or cut out the things you dislike.

First of all, why do you feel so personally offended about this? Someone brought it up and I simply replied to the best of my ability, with the info I had, and if you have some kind of reading comprehension, you’d know that I even stated I couldn’t confirm it was the absolute truth. So at the end of the day, it’s up to people to make their own judgement.

And if you’re within your right to doubt my “sources”, so am I to doubt yours. No one sent anything regarding this, other than the screenshots I mentioned. Plus, there is no way I can edit asks. They’re posted the way they’re sent, so no, I’m not manipulating anything or posting only the things I like. Why would I, anyway? It was never that serious and I have no personal interest in this matter. I’ve always been the first to say to just let it die, as real or not, it’s in the past and doesn’t matter anymore. Besides, I never “trash talked” artist girl (or anyone, for that matter), and I challenge you to search through all the blog’s posts and try to find one where I did.

That said, and since you’ve had your spotlight, I really hope we can put this matter to rest now, or if you wish to continue this discussion, I ask you to keep a civil tone, otherwise I won’t post anymore asks about this. (And yes, I’m warning you beforehand, so you won’t feel too offended about it.)

Have a nice day!

#anon asks

[thatsaltydiabetic]

I am. So Angry

I’m going to start by apologizing for being completely absent on this account for months, I am hoping to revamp it, but I have been busy, unfortunately, with school and the world right now. 

This post is days fcking late because I have been shaking with anger since the terrorist attack on the Capital and I didn’t want to really make this post until I could at least contain a little bit of my anger and outrage, as a chronically ill activist from America. 

I want to make it clear that I will not be referring to the events that took place as anything other than a domestic terrorist attack, and all the participants as terrorists and traitors. Point blank.

I have been advocating once or twice a year, every year, for seven or eight years, on Capitol Hill, in order to push for the basic necessities to live even REMOTELY comfortably in the United States as a type 1 diabetic. Talking to congresspeople and senators in order to try and push for affordable insulin, which I will remind you, IS A LIFE-SAVING, NECESSARY MEDICINE. To advocate for more funding, to ask that they not shut the door on the issue, to practically plead with them to make my future SECURE, because I did NOT choose this, and I should not have to DIE with it. 

I go every year to ask them to make sure safe at school rules are required still, so no kids in the future will have to deal with their necessary medical supplies being taken by shitty teachers, the way that it has happened to me, so that no other kids have to deal with the stress of their unpreventable condition affecting the way and the amount that they learn. Because WE did NOT choose this. 

I wait my turn, I take 15 to 20 minutes with them, or maybe just an intern, to tell them stories, to tell them how I have to fear for my stability in the future, to plead that they understand the severity of the situation, because unaffordable medication and supplies KILLS, and makes people’s lives MISERABLE, all because of something that cannot be prevented. 

I am POLITE to these government workers, even if they aren’t paying attention, even if they have a history of not caring at all, I am patient with them, I have been since I started doing this at SEVEN FUCKING YEARS OLD. I have had my share of rude comments, from the republicans that insist we don’t need the funding we ask for, that insist it is somehow preventable, that if you work hard enough it isn’t such a problem, that there is simply no justifying the cost. 

Once or twice a year, I go to the Capital. I wait in lines, I wait until the right time for our appointment, I cause no disruption in their office, I cause no problems in the Capitol building, I respect whatever they ask, even if they ask to talk only shortly outside their door. 

And they just let those terrorists in. They let them storm the FUCKING CAPITAL because they couldn’t grow the fuck up and face the music. Trump lost. Fair and fucking square. But I saw the police LETTING THESE PEOPLE IN. I SAW THEM GET AWAY WITH LITTLE LESS THAN A SLAP ON THE WRIST. 

And I, as someone who is chronically ill, and has been cheated out of a secure future, and the millions of others like me, other disabled people. Who have been cheated out of LIFE and SECURITY from their own goddamn nation because the government is too cowardly to help us. Disabled and chronically ill people get the short end of the fucking stick every goddamn time. 

I, and everyone like me, have the RIGHT to look these officials in the eyes and call them cowards for not helping, we have the right to be FURIOUS, to talk to them with contempt, because they will not help us, they will not even listen. We should not have to be respectful, we shouldn’t have to wair our turn once a fucking year, but we do because we respect the process. 

Those traitors took a shit on the United States and our LEADER encouraged them every step of the way. What about the people with pre existing conditions who worry every year that maybe they won’t have good enough insurance to SURVIVE another week. 

Fuck every single person there, and anyone who instigated it. The terrorists heads should’ve been shoved in the ground, they should have EATEN FUCKING DIRT. 

Enough is fucking enough. I am so tired. I have every right to look those cowards in the face and condemn them all to hell. 

#type two diabetes #type 1 diabetes #type 2 diabetes #diabetes #diabetes help #united states #america #politics #ableism #activism #affordable insulin

[thyandrawrites]

Hi! I don't know if you have addressed this before but I was wondering if I could ask your thoughts on the symbolism of what Endeavor says to Hood (You're me. My past or a future that might have been). Endeavor ends up killing Hood. But the past doesn't die, and Touya returns to say as much. They will likely have a fight. Do you think Endeavor could die? Do you think Touya or someone else could kill him? What are your thoughts on Dabi being a nomu? I feel like there could be foreshadowing here.

hey! that's a lot of questions, I hope I can give a satisfying answer to all of them.

I don't think Endvr's words to the noumu are foreshadowing. imho they're just a really really bad attempt at retconning him through a badly written and awkwardly executed paralleling. But let me explain what I mean.

that chapter attempts to use Hood as a foil to Endvr by giving him the same kind of motivator that always moved Endvr: an obsession to defeat strong opponents. It is supposed to be the moment where the reader realizes that Endvr has changed by pitting him against someone who embodies that same toxicity he "used to" wear with pride. But I say that it's bad and ineffective writing because, well. Nothing Endvr has done up to that point, or in that fight itself, disproves that he still thinks that way. That he's still obsessed with being the strongest. See, Endvr says "you're me. My past or a future that might've been", and in the process implies that he is not like that now, but at the same time, he also says this:

and the one thought pushing him forward throughout the whole fight is the idea that this is how he will atone to his family, by being a strong hero that will make them proud. By coming on top even such a powerful opponent.

So, uhm. Yeah. Retconning. Horikoshi was simply trying to make Endvr look good by making him fight a doppelganger, and then calling that "growth" despite not changing anything in Endvr's mindset to prove how that would be remotely true.

Also. This is petty af of me but can I just mention something that I find absolutely infuriating?

It just occurred to me that both father and son had a "he is me" moment. And while Endeavor can't even sympathize with his son, he has no issues at all sympathizing with a fucking monster. Ah. the irony. And I'm even supposed to be rooting for him, lmfao

As for whether or not Endvr might die, I think it's a 50/50 chance. Ideally, he shouldn't, because redemption by death is too convenient an out for someone whose main narrative challenge has always been that of owning up to his shitty behaviour as a father. He needs to live to properly step away from his family and allow them to heal.

Unfortunately, considering the massive amounts of bad writing surrounding him, and Hori's propensity for naive, superficial resolutions of conflicts (looking at you, bakugou), I am not that hopeful that his arc will be handled well. There's a chance Endvr might die heroically while trying to save Touya. Which, again, would play into the redemption by death trope and be really unsatisfying for me to watch, unless it was specifically framed as cowardly and selfish of him by the Todofam afterwards. But eh. I don't have standards surrounding Endvr's writing anymore tbh.

The scene where he thinks of his family having dinner without him is definitely meant to be foreshadowing, tho imho it's still a 50/50 on whether it foreshadows Endvr's death or his decision to let his family heal and move on without him forcing his presence into their lives anymore. It could go either way, tho I'm not particularly optimistic.

As for the noumu theory, I personally don't think it makes sense for Dabi to be one. Dabi still retains his whole sense of self, and is clearly in full control of his actions. The other noumus we've seen, even the more sentient ones like Kurogiri, did not have as much freedom. Plus, if AFO and Ujiko had the means to make noumus so fully functional and independent, capable of speech, autonomy and agency, why would they not replicate that technology at all in the last ten years? Up until Hood, noumus weren't even able to talk (aside from Kurogiri who was a different breed, but still had plenty of limitations that Dabi doesn't show).

That being said, I do think that Ujiko is probably involved in whatever happened to Touya after the Sekoto peak accident. I wrote some thoughts on this here.

#ali replies #bnha #bnha spoilers #my post #yes I'm biased #I hope that anyone who follows me knows to expect this #if you're an endvr stan you probably shouldn't be following me #or asking me my opinion of him anyway #I only have salt to offer

[noona-clock]

The Personal Trainer - Part 4

Genre: Gym!AU

Pairing: Junhoe x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,487

I’m just going to cut right to the chase.

You spent the next few months in denial. Complete and utter denial. About basically everything.

Unsurprisingly, hugging Junhoe after your meal had been the catalyst for this denial, and the thing you were actively denying was... exactly what your brother had suggested.

All of the emotions you had experienced in that five-second hug had made you realize maybe you actually hadn’t gotten over him and maybe you still did have feelings for him.

But you absolutely did not want that to be true. There was no way you could possibly even begin to think about it because if you did, and if you discovered it was true, then you would find yourself in a very confusing and complicated situation. A situation you really did not want to deal with.

So, you see now why you were in complete and utter denial.

Three times a week, you had been going to your training sessions. Maybe once every other week or so, Junhoe had convinced you to go to lunch or dinner with him -- never a date, just as friends. Your relationship -- friendship -- had progressed to a stage where you now felt comfortable with each other. The thought of seeing him didn’t fill you with dread or make you anxious. In fact, it was quite the opposite --

And back to denial we go.

Your brother, of course, wasn’t helping. Whenever he called you, you did your best not to talk about Junhoe, but it was inevitable that he came up every now and then.

Your conversations typically went like this:

“So, how’s personal training going? You’re still doing it, right?”

“Yes, of course, I am.”

(Your first two prepaid months had come and gone, and you’d decided to continue on for... reasons. Not just to see Junhoe. Why would you think that?)

“How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m still exhausted and sore.”

“Oh, come on! You gotta feel so much better now that you’re being active and taking care of yourself!”

“Yeah, sure.”

“...Junhoe is still your trainer?”

“Yes. Nothing has happened and nothing will happen. Harry says ‘Hi,’ by the way. He keeps asking when I’ll go on a trip next so he can go stay with his favorite Uncle.”

“I’m Harry’s only Uncle.”

So, yeah. You quickly changed the subject whenever your brother brought Junhoe up, and that was the strategy you were going to stick with.

It was also fairly easy to avoid talking about anything even closely resembling feelings or relationships during your training sessions with Junhoe.

You still thought about it -- and denied it, of course -- but there really wasn’t any room to talk about something other than exercising.

It was just the whole thinking about it thing you had to deal with.

But, as I’ve mentioned, you dealt with it by denying it!

That always works, right? Thoughts always just end up going away when you deny them enough, right?

Right.

Of course!

...Anyway.

You had been denying things for a good while now, and your plan was to continue denying them for as long as you needed.

Unfortunately, Junhoe decided he was going to throw a wrench in your plans one Saturday afternoon.

You didn’t know this beforehand, of course, otherwise you would’ve made up an excuse not to meet him for lunch.

Although... you should’ve been tipped off when he suggested going to the same restaurant you’d gone to on your first date.

But Junhoe had never had the absolute best memory, so you had brushed it off as him just forgetting that detail! Plus, it was a really good restaurant, and you hadn’t eaten there since... well, since you’d dated him. It definitely felt weird to go back there with him after all this time, but the two of you were friends now. You figured it was time to make new memories in old places -- friendly memories.

(This is what you kept telling yourself, yes. Friendly. Friendly, friendly, friendly, friendly.)

As soon as Junhoe sat down across from you, though, you knew something was on his mind. Something you didn’t want to hear, but -- as you’d gotten so used to doing it -- you denied it. You told yourself you were imagining things and went on eating lunch like nothing was worrying you.

That lasted for about fifteen minutes.

“Hey,” Junhoe began, his brow furrowed gently as he put his fork down on his empty plate.

“Hey,” you repeated. You crossed your arms on top of the table after pushing your plate away from you, and you looked over at him expectantly.

He waited a few moments before he met your gaze and said, “This has been really nice. Getting to know you again and hanging out and stuff.”

His words chipped away at your denial just a tiny bit, but you pretended they hadn’t. “Yeah, it has,” you agreed with a soft smile.

Junhoe’s expression turned to one of slight relief, and that, too, chipped away at your denial.

“Maybe I’m wrong, but...” he murmured, raising his eyebrows hopefully. “Do you... feel like... maybe... there’s still something --”

“Please don’t say it,” you interrupted, your voice just barely above a whisper.

“...Say what?”

“Whatever you were going to say, please don’t.”

Junhoe blinked at you a few times. “But... you don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Things are good as they are right now,” you insisted, hardly even making eye contact with him. “Training sessions at the gym and the occasional meal, and that’s it. That’s good.”

“Y/N --”

“Please,” you urged.

“No, Y/N, I think we should talk about this,” Junhoe retorted, his voice quiet but very firm.

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about --”

“There’s nothing to talk about?” he asked with amused disbelief. “How can you honestly say that?”

“Because it’s true!”

“You really don’t think there’s been something --”

“No,” you cut him off. “I don’t think.”

It was the first time you’d denied it out loud, and... to be quite honest, it had been more difficult than you’d thought it would be. In your head, you’d been ignoring that something Junhoe was talking about for months now. You’d assumed that, if you ever had to actually talk about it, it would come out easily and naturally. So, you were kind of surprised that it hadn’t.

Before Junhoe could say anything in response, the server returned with your check. You quickly reached for it, fumbling in your bag to get some cash out so you wouldn’t have to sit and wait to get your credit card back.

Junhoe tried to stop you, but you ignored him as you slid the cash underneath the receipt, pushed away from the table, and began to head to the exit.

“Y/N, please,” he called out, though he made sure his voice wasn’t so loud as to bring attention to the two of you.

When you stepped outside, you felt his hand gently taking your elbow, and you knew you couldn’t ignore him anymore.

You whirled around, a deep wrinkle marking your forehead as you pleaded, “I don’t have anything to say. Please just let me go. There’s nothing to --”

“Okay, but I have something to say,” he declared. “And I need you to at least listen to me. You don’t have to respond. You don’t have to speak a single word. But please... just listen to me.”

You let your gaze fall to the ground, staring at it for a few seconds before letting out a soft sigh and looking back up at him.

“Okay,” you agreed.

Junhoe let go of your elbow, but he took a step closer to you, now just on the edge of invading your personal space.

“I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear this, but I don’t think I ever really got over you.”

...He was right. You didn’t want to hear that.

“I thought I had,” he continued. “Even after we started training, I thought there was nothing there anymore. That first time we had lunch, I really did want to catch up -- just as friends. But...”

Oh, no. Nothing good ever followed ‘But...’

“But now I’m not so sure. The more time we spend together, the more I remember why I fell for you in the first place. The more I question why we ever broke up. You’re such --” Junhoe paused to let out a quiet but frustrated groan, running his hands through his silky, dark hair. “You’re such an amazing person, and I -- I don’t know. I’m just drawn to you like -- like a magnet. I miss being with you. I miss you.”

His words almost physically hurt your heart. But, just like so many other things concerning your ex-boyfriend, you never wanted to admit it out loud.

You had broken up with him for a reason -- more than one reason -- and you didn’t know how things could’ve changed. You hadn’t been able to overlook how unbothered and unstructured Junhoe was about so many things, and you truly couldn’t see how you would be able to overlook them now.

So, you simply looked at him. You waited until almost a minute of silence had gone by, wanting to make sure he had finished speaking before inhaling deeply.

You opened your mouth to say something... but then you realized you had no idea what you wanted to say.

Was there even anything you wanted to say?

...At the moment, no. You needed time to process everything he’d said before you could properly respond. If you even wanted to respond at all.

You finally just nodded, tipping your chin ever so slightly and murmuring an “Okay.”

And then you turned to leave.

Thankfully, Junhoe took your response to his... I guess we could call it a confession, as exactly what it was: you needing time to process things. Needing time to think about things.

The problem was, you didn’t want to think about it.

You wanted to continue denying and ignoring. Your life would be much easier that way, and why make things more difficult when they didn’t have to be?

He didn’t contact you for the rest of the weekend, and even on Monday, he didn’t send you his normal ‘See you later for training!’ text message.

You knew things would be incredibly awkward once you got to the gym, but you were wiling to deal with that. You were prepared to show up and act like nothing had happened. And if, at the end of your session, he brought it up... you would simply tell him you still had nothing to say.

You didn’t care if that was a cowardly or selfish thing to do. I mean, you cared a little bit, but you’d already been hurt because of him. You’d already gone through so much emotional turmoil, and you really had no good reason to believe you wouldn’t go through it again.

Why wouldn’t you want to spare yourself from that kind of pain?

As you approached the front of the gym on Monday evening, you clutched the strap of your bag and took a deep, slow breath.

You just had to keep reminding yourself that the awkwardness of seeing him would be much more manageable than the pain of losing him again.

You took one more breath before reaching the front door, opening it, and heading up to the desk in the entry way to scan your membership card.

The receptionist greeted you cheerfully, as she always did, and you shot her a warm smile before making your way over to the personal training area.

Unsurprisingly, Junhoe was not there yet. He never was, and you were once again reminded that his tardiness would absolutely bother you if you started dating again.

But you wouldn’t start dating again, so there was no reason to worry about it.

After the first couple of sessions when Junhoe had showed up late, he’d instructed you to get on the treadmill to warm up while you waited for him, so that’s exactly what you did today.

You turned the treadmill on, setting it a very low speed so you didn’t work up a sweat before Junhoe put you through the ringer -- even after a few months of consistent training, you were still fully exhausted after each session.

As you began walking, you tried not to let your mind wander too much -- you tried not to anticipate seeing him because you would absolutely get too anxious if you did that. It would’ve been a good idea to put in your ear buds and listen to some music on your phone, but Junhoe would be here in a few minutes. 

Except... a few minutes passed, and he was not here.

You checked your phone to see if he had texted you, but he had not. You looked around the gym to see if you could spot him coming, but you could not.

There was really nothing to worry about yet, so you decided to simply continue walking.

You walked... and walked... and walked... and when a full fifteen minutes had passed, then you decided to worry. You still hadn’t received any messages from him, and surely he would’ve told you if he’d had to cancel.

After turning the treadmill off and slowly coming to a stop, you hopped off and made your way over to the receptionist.

“Hi!” she chirped when you arrived. “What can I help you with?”

“Hi, yes,” you answered, hearing the shake of anxiety in your voice. “I’m supposed to have a training session with Junhoe, but --”

The receptionist cut you off with a gasp. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot! He texted me that he’s going to be late.”

...He had texted her? But not you?

“He said there’d been an accident of some sort, but --”

“Accident?” you interrupted harshly.

“Yeah, he didn’t give any details or anything, but --”

You excused yourself, turned on your heel, and marched toward the exit.

As soon as you were outside, you fumbled through your phone to your contacts and pressed the ‘Call’ button next to his name.

With each ring, your heartrate doubled. And when you heard the first words of his voicemail, you weren’t even sure if you were breathing.

What was going on? What had happened? Why wasn’t he answering his phone? Was he okay? Why had he texted the receptionist but not you? Was he hurt? Was he on his way to the hospital? Why hadn’t he texted you? What kind of accident? Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering his phone? Why hadn’t he texted you? How would you live without him if something had happened to him?

...Oh.

You had not expected that.

Well, then.

Part 5

#kwritersworldnet #junhoe scenarios #junhoe imagines #junhoe au #junhoe fluff #junhoe fanfic #ikon scenarios #ikon imagines #ikon au #ikon fluff #ikon fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #ikon #junhoe #koo junhoe #ikon junhoe

[nayialovecat]

Hi :) Could you rank the characters of SATIM, from the one you like the most to the one you like the least and tell us why? I love lists :p

My first list! Yay!

Gosh... it's very hard question. I don't like telling kids that one of them is less liked than the other, lol. I'm not able to choose which of the two very liked characters I like more, but I can certainly group them all collectively into several groups with different levels of liking…

The order in these groups will be rather random…

I don't know what determinant should be to assign them... Because there is a difference between the characters I like and the characters that I consider successful making. I think I'll bet on the former, so don't be surprised what categories the characters I'm really proud of end up in.

.

First category: Beloved characters!

Sammy is definitely here, I don't need to explain why? I omit the fact that his character is quite modeled on myself (and it is quite common that the creator secretly loves to adore himself). But seriously. I love almost every Sammy I meet. This love has no rational explanation, it just exists.

Jack will definitely be in this category too - I love this warm dumpling, his character and the way he combines his pacifist, introverted nature with being Sammy's friend.

I will surprise you, but I'll also assign Bertrum to this category. It's so much fun that when I first saw him in gameplay I had such a "wtf, what is it, what kind of bullshit, why they screwed up the game so much by adding some carousel with a human face". Currently, I cry when I have to go through Chapter 4 and fight him :c He's one of my favorite BATIM characters, along with Sammy - and that's why in the SATIM version he’s simply brilliant! You will love him! Unfortunately, he'll not appear until the second series...

Probably no one will be surprised that Jose Klondike will land my beloved characters - I love the guy, although you don't know why yet. But you'll find out. You'll find out quickly, ‘cause the number of strips with him grows and grows, so I'll be putting them here and there. I am proud of this OC - his history, his determination, his character and approach to life. As if I was in the Workshop as an inky being - I would like to be exactly that character...

Bernard - you don't know him, but he is high in my heart. It’s my way of showing that weaker doesn't always mean weak ;)

After much thought, I decided that Bendy also belongs to this category. I have too much weakness for tragic characters - and Bendy is even a model tragic character (as you will see at the beginning of the second series, when there will be a little more of his backstory).

Gosh, how could I forget to put my favorite three descendants of Sammy and Bendy in this category? This trio is delightful together and separately. I'm so crazy about them lately! Sammy Jr, Henry Jr and Bendy Jr are my favourites :)

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Second category: I like these guys very much!

Here will be most of my OC with Cleaner in the lead. It's amazing how the character that arose as an explanation for my laziness/lacks quickly evolved into one of the more liked by me (though still has, and likely will have, relatively little airtime).

Barman must also be here. This guy stole my heart - and it was at the design stage, which is why he got such a unique design (I spent a lot of time on him). I like a stereotypical barman - that's why I just had to throw such a character into SATIM as soon as it turned out that they had a bar there.

All Strikers also land in this category - as the only species of members of the Butcher Gang. Well, how can you not love this cutie? In the SATIM version, most Strikers are sensitive, polite, have a strong sense of justice and, above all, tend to be innocent despite being horrific, murderous abomination. And they are the most sociable of the three.

Movie Club as a whole will also be included in this category, although I don't like all of its members equally. However, as a group character - I like them a lot, my favourite is Sara (probably that's why she got the most time in drawn stripes so far) and Simon (you don't know him yet, that's the one that was dead on the previous strip with this group), also Wallace (first one you met in comic). I like them, although their early appearance upsets my plans for Bendy a bit... but whatever.

Surprisingly - Twisted Alice will also land here. I did not expect that the character I didn't like in game, which I reluctantly drew and who was supposed to be in the comic as little as possible, 'cause I didn't want her in my story - will turn out to be so interesting and quite... cool. I mean, she's a cold, murderous bitch, yes - but I like her backstory, present character and behavior so much (I'm talking about SATIM - in the game she is still an annoying, cold bitch that I hate).

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Third category: I just like these.

Here is Brody. Yes. Just here. He is my first OC and I'm really proud of him. Very, very proud. He’s the most polished, I like him - but at the same time (identifying with Sammy) I don’t approve of some of his behaviors and beliefs. Which does not allow me to like him as much as, for example, Barman.

John Dot will land here as well. I like this guy. For someone who was not meant to have any major role, he has grown to become Sammy's religious advisor and is generally quite a funny character.

Fisher, who is my least liked member of the Butcher Gang in the game, ends up in second place here - thanks to the past of one of them (the whole two-piece strip will be about that). The Fishers in SATIM are the "brains" of the Gang. They are the smartest, most cunning and insidious.

Wally Franks - he is and for a long time he will be one of the most enigmatic characters of this comic, but from these narrow premises and traces of its operation it can be seen that he is at least interesting. There will be more about him in the second series, and he will play a more important role at the turn of the third and fourth series. You'll see.

Tom ends up here instead of in the next category only because of his complicated relationship with Sammy, which I would describe in one word as "frenemies". And I really like the idea of ​​communicating with writing board like Wile E. Coyote.

I have a problem with Elena. When I came up with her, she seemed like a great character to me, with the passage of time (and the creation of other OCs) she began to seem a bit... dull. I think I'll have to think about her a bit and maybe change her - maybe not. She doesn't appear until the last series, so I have a lot of time. But I still like the way she speaks to people and her strange relationship with Sammy (she's sort of like his apprentice, only the object of fanaticism has a different one).

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Fourth category: Not liked, but not disliked.

Sorry, Henry. In my opinion, Henry is a well-written character, his nature fits so much to him, etc. But somehow I don't know how to liked him. In places it irritates me as much as Sammy. What I like the most about him is that he doesn't cause any problems with colouring and strips with more of him mean less work for me.

Boris - you don't know him yet (he has appeared in the background of one frame throughout the comic so far), so I have no way to relate, but let me put it this way... Boris is the perfect Boris, that super-copy Joey dreamed of. He is friendly, obliging, somewhat cowardly, but overall a great buddy. And like any ideal character - he's boring. Just boring. I prefer dramatic characters, with a past, with problems or at least an interesting, aggressive or funny character.

Allison lands here too. I don't like her in the game and maybe that's why in my comic she came out like this... I won't say that she lacks character or claw, but... not intriguing. This may change, but for the moment she is a character whose role is to be a "strong independent woman" and she has no other role. I think many people will like her because of that. Me not very much. I just don't like this type of character.

I almost forgot about poor Piper. This is a character that leaves me cold. In every Gang, he is more of a taunt object or a servant at everyone's beck and call (in Polish we say: "przynieś, podaj pozamiataj" - I think it should be translate as "bring, serve, sweep"). But for consolation I made Pipers the most various (different hairstyles, clothes, length of the wooden prosthesis).

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Fifth category: I hate this one.

Joey. I created a motherfucker that I hate. But I must admit, this motherfucker is well done, you will see...

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I guess I haven't overlooked anyone, and even included a few characters that have yet to appear. However, if I missed someone, please ask :)

#asknayia #SATIM #BATIM #spoilers?... #please don't make me tagging all the characters XD #Sammy and the Ink Machine #Bendy and the Ink Machine #my first list

[deep-and-personal-thoughts]

Happiness

Happiness…

A commonly used word, however… No one seems to truly understand the meaning of it. What is happiness? It is one of the most basic questions asked by pretty much any psychiatrist, or even just any person. I once sat down, and properly thought to myself,

- What is happiness? Is it when we feel the happiest in our life? Is it that warm feeling you get in your stomach each time you laugh? Or is it the feeling of satisfaction when something goes right?

Life is a bit like poker. You get dealt a hand, you might just end up with something shit that you feel like you can not do anything with, to win the game. Some people get lucky, they get dealt that royal flush right from the get-go. Some people fold right at the beginning of the game. Others decide to play for the long game, I am one of those people. I will admit to you, I might have been given a pair of two, but I managed to mess it up. Sometimes it left me open-handed in fact, but I am working on it. Most people’s personalities are decided by what cards are in their possession. The ones with the royal flush do not really have to work for most stuff in their life, they can sit back and do something purely because they enjoy it. The ones with nothing, have to work much harder, to fight for that queen of hearts or the really lucky ones, the ace. They have it tougher since the odds are already against them, they are designed to lose so to win they gotta work hard and take risky bets to get their cards. People handed a card or two that helps them are a bit stuck in between classes, they might end up in a one-room apartment in Birmingham, or they might end up in a two-floored penthouse in the middle of L.A. It all depends on the player really, and how hard they are going to fight to win the round. Now they might lose some, they might be left with only one chip, but then you have the choice, to keep going, to fight on, or you can give up, you can fold your hand and accept the loss. To that, I simply say; fuck that. Life is not all rainbow and sunshine, unfortunately, I am sorry to be the one to burst your bubble in case you were not already aware. Took a bit of time myself to realize that. Life is not your friend, it spends every day trying to kill you, to make you give up. We are our own friend, you decide every morning to get up, you decide what cards you are going to play next. Life is the dealer who tries to trick you and fool you, to make you fold, but you do not.

Now, learning this lesson was not an easy task. It took a lot of hits, a lot of punches before I even turned my head to think:

-Why? Why do I keep ending up hurt, more than before? Is there no being happy for me? Am I not meant to feel happy?

The first punch was a big one, it was the closest I ever got to folding my hand. I got close, so close to listening to that dealer, to give up.

It was a chilly spring morning. The snow had finally started melting, it was almost so I could see the thin grass strays peeking out from the white cushion covering the ground. I woke up to the birds chirping right outside the window. I packed my bags, ready for yet another day at school. I was happy, I was excited to see my friends, to see my teachers. I picked the first outfit I could see in my closet, it was a suit. A white shirt with a brown blazer, black jeans, and a nice red bowtie to go along with it. Yet, when I went to close the jeans, there was suddenly a resistance of some sort, I struggled to get it closed but eventually, you do. It is as if the jeans had gotten smaller somehow, but they fit me perfectly just a week ago… I thought nothing of it though, I got them on, nothing more with that. I put on your blazer, yet, as I stretched my arms out, it was as if the arms have been cut off an inch. Once more I shook the thought out of my head. I hopped on the bike and excitedly raced off, trying to be the first one to arrive just so I could show off about having been there first. The day passed by and I was laughing and running, I was having a good time. As the day came to a close, I was just about to have a snack along with the rest of my class, but as soon as my hand touched the sandwich, I heard my friend speak up.

-You are really big now, you look like a hippo.

My friends laughed, I simply looked at him confused, and then I remembered… The pants, the shirt. I had recently gotten bigger, I had grown in all kinds of places and I did not know why. My mum had told you briefly that when a girl becomes a woman she grows but I did not want to be bigger, I did not want to be different. I decided,

-Best to skip the snack today, maybe then I will shrink, and I will look like my old self again.

But as I kept eating normally I saw myself growing bigger and bigger. Eventually, I was the tallest and biggest in my class. My friend called me “hippo” as a joke, but yet each time he said it, I felt like a knife had just sliced a line across my heart. This feeling of a black hole built up in my stomach, just like an empty pit, and this desperate feeling that I needed something to fill it.

My twelfth birthday came along. I was happy, I spent the entire day with my family, getting to make my one wish per year. That year I wished for one thing, that this year I would be happy and thin, that I would get the guy that I liked, and he would look at me and say he liked me too, after all these years together. As one might have expected, my dream did not come true, some dreams are just meant for fairytales I suppose, I had just really hoped just that one would come true. Instead, I grew, my friends had started growing too but I was still the one without a flat belly, the one whose thighs jiggled when she touched them. My nickname, still the same as before among other nicknames such as “biggy” “elephant”, the pit in my stomach grew deeper, emptier. I needed something to fill it, but it obviously could not be with food since that was what made me big. So I stopped filling it. Two weeks went by till my parents caught on and forced me to start eating again. The pit came back, this time I needed another, less obvious method. So I unscrewed my pen sharpener and went drawing. Fleeing is the most cowardly yet common way for people to confront their problem. Drawing on my arm was me fleeing, being too afraid to face my problems and to admit that I was for the first time in my life feeling so upset that it simply would not stop, that pain, that empty feeling, it would not go away, no matter what I did, what I said, I would continue being teased, I would continue to grow, nothing changed.

The drawing became my secret until I one day fluttered my eyes open and found myself in a white silk bed, a needle in my arm, a few drops falling from the top of the container every few seconds. The drops following a plastic straw all the way into my arm where it forced itself into my system. I looked out, I had a nice ocean view, I could see the birds flying across the water, chirping just as they would any other day. The water looked still, but I could see some fog left from the night before. To my left, on a little sofa that was placed in the room my mum was sat, her eyes bloodshot as if she had been crying for hours, and purple bags under her eyes as if the last time she got to sleep was years ago. She looked at me, with the biggest face of disappointment and sadness, almost a sense of… pity. A bang shot right into my heart, that was the moment I told myself:

-You get your shit together right now, for her right there, and for yourself. She deserves better than that, and you fucked her over.

I meant one person, then I met another one, and another, and lastly another one. I tried talking to four separate people, to make them understand how I felt, a scream for help. Yet it was as if my voice had been cut off, as if each time I tried asking for help, nothing more than a strained groan left my throat. And yet, I always got the same response.

-You’re depressed.

-You have anxiety.

-You are a teenager.

-You need this medicine.

Well, I had gotten a diagnosis, so… was I okay now? Do I keep going with my life as normal? But, how can I do that, I can not simply forget what happened.

I was swiped away from all my cards that day and left with a simple pile of nothing. I did not want to be dealt another hand, afraid of what that hand might be of. But I had to, for my mum, because I could not hurt her like I had that day. As so I found myself asking for another card. It took time, of course, it did. But then again, so does everything in life, unless you are given that royal flush, you need patience, you need practice to win.

The thing about happiness is that a lot of people do not even realize when it is there, or when it is not. Sometimes we even manage to convince ourselves that we are happy when really in fact we are not. People think that telling themselves that they are happy, makes them happy, but what it actually does is make us even more miserable than we actually were. By telling ourselves that we are okay, that we do not have a problem, we push away any sort of help that we could have gotten. It is like this demon is hanging over us, tricking us into thinking that we are okay, but for each time you tell yourself that, it is just like you are feeding it more and more until eventually, you collapse until you break down, and then it is back to square one, up until that moment when that demon gets hungry once more and pushes you down those stairs to start all over again. You need to find that control over your own demons because if you do not, they will kill you. You do not find that control and that will to tell yourself that you actually are not fine, and you will keep falling down those stairs, and you will keep doing the same routine over and over again till one day when you find yourself six feet under and then what do you do? By that point, there is not starting over, there is no trying again. Happiness does not come without pain, for some more than others. Our happiness is decided by how we handle that pain, how we cope. Some handle it by confronting the issue, some handle it by ignoring it in hopes of it going away or just simply because they do not see it another way.

Many times did I feel that way as if there was no way for the pain to stop without me stopping. A feeling as if no one could understand or simply comprehend what I was feeling, I was alone and the only way I could get rid of my pain was alone. I tried isolating myself, I figured others were the cause of my pain. The kids at school who called me names, every guy who had my heart broken, my family mocking me, they were the reason for my pain, and so I shut everyone out. If I had no one, no one could hurt me. But for some reason, even when I thought I had everything figured out, I felt pain like nothing ever before. I had left everyone. I had broken up with my then-boyfriend, I had stopped hanging out with my friends, I avoided my family. The feeling of being alone hurt more than any name I had been called, it hurt more than any boy breaking my heart, it was a pain that simply could not be explained. So many times did I think the whole world was better off without me, that I was going to be alone forever. But I was wrong, so very wrong. That day I ended up at that hospital, it was as if someone had woken me up from a dream. Seeing my mum cry next to my bed, telling herself that she was a failure. Seeing my friends in shock at what they had heard, asking me if I am okay, not letting me bullshit them by telling them everything is fine, made me realize, it is okay to not be happy, it is okay to not be fine, and it is okay to be open about it.

No person is a hero, we are all just… people. On aeroplanes, they always tell you, put your own mask first and then your child’s. You can not be responsible for every person's happiness because it will just end up with you in the shit. Helping others was my way of fleeing, it still is. By helping others I felt pleased that I was the cause of someone else’s happiness, but I never once asked myself if I was okay, if I needed help. I had myself in this sort of mindset where I thought as long as I do not think I am sad, as long as I keep helping others I will be happy, and yet each time it ended up with me more miserable than before. As much as I wanted to be the hero, to help everyone, I simply could not. Each time I could not help someone, I felt the pain I had felt that day before I ended up in the emergency room. Each time I could not help, I fed my demon, letting it tell me that I could not help because I was not enough, I was not worth my place here. Where you end up is decided by whether or not you listen to that demon, if you let yourself be pulled on strings or if you can admit to yourself that you are not okay, and that’s fine.

You are not your own responsibility alone. You have so many people out there that do care about you, even if you might not see it. And I know that telling them about your problems makes you feel as if you are putting your burden on them, as if you are bringing them down with you, but you have to see that doing it by yourself will not work. Maybe you know that already, and simply just chose not to tell people because you believe it is better for both you and them that way, but by not telling anyone, your demon keeps telling you the same bullshit over and over again until you slowly start to believe it, even though you have tons people around who would in a second tell you the opposite. But you do not choose the truth, it is easier that way, to simply be alone. Sometimes I wish I could cast some magic spell to make the sadness go away, to make every person I care about feel happy again, I truly do. I care about others more than myself, and that is a flaw, I know that, but that is my way of coping. I can not stop until I know that, that person is okay. At that moment I forget myself, actually, I chose to ignore myself completely, and all my needs, I dig myself down that whole cause I think my well being is not as important as others. But it is, and it took me almost eighteen years to realize that. Some people go their whole lives without understanding that.

I suppose what I am trying to say is that happiness is not something that magically appears after a certain amount of time. It is not something that is given to us just like that, even it seems like it. To be happy, we have to be okay with us being said, with us being in pain. If you simply chose to ignore your own scream for help, you are just going to dig yourself down deeper and deeper until you can not see the top anymore, until everything around you is dark and cold.

Happiness is in one way complete bullshit, it will never stay. It is like a traveller, it comes every now and again but can not force it to stay there because eventually, it has to go for a while before coming back. You can not achieve happiness alone, no matter how many you tell yourself that. No matter how many times you tell yourself that you will be fine, you do not have to talk to anyone. Sure, you will feel okay eventually for a couple days, maybe weeks, but then you will end up at the bottom of that hole again, and it will be deeper than it was when you left it last. You need to find that will, that person, that thing that will lend you a hand to crawl up that whole, to help you.

Happiness is everything around you that makes you hold on, it is everything that gets you up in the morning and keeps you going. May it be a friend, a lover, a book, a place, it is happiness. But you will not see it until you can allow yourself to feel that pain, to feel that sadness because if you do not, you can not be happy. You can pretend you are, just for a moment, but you will end up right where you started. So many care about you, so many love you, I know that sometimes that might not feel like it is enough, but you are lucky if you even find that person that cares, that will be there when you are down, that will do anything they can for you. Hold on to that, it will give you a lifetime. Happiness will come, you just have to want it, and you have to fight for it. I know it is tough, I am not some dumb little girl, I have been through shit, maybe not half of what others have, but I still know, I can still understand. I made mistakes, I ignored my problems, but I made it, I learned. And so will you, you just need patience, you need to make mistakes or you will not learn. But you will find happiness, eventually.

#happiness #sadnnes #anxious #mental instability #depression sad #helpful

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 59: Challenger

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Challenger

Notes: In case you missed it, I did actually upload a chapter on Wednesday. I just did it slightly later in the day. Want to make sure nobody missed it so if they weren't confused that's what was going on. Enjoy the chapter!

(-~-)

It had been a clever ambush.

As much as the eldest of the Dark Knight Sparda's kin was loathed to admit it, there was clearly some form of planning that had gone into this attack. This had been entirely too well organized to not be the result of a carefully laid trap. He knew he was not the sort to walk headfirst into a trap, and he got the impression that neither was Lucia. But here they were, beset upon on all sides by a band of beings wielding dark and unfamiliar sorcery. 

It was not clear to him at this point if they were human or not, but he cared very little either way. He needed to see them dead, and then they needed to proceed with their mission. This was to be a brief trip, nothing more. And they would be a brief obstacle on that trip.

Stepping back out of the path of an oncoming fireball, the Darkslayer rushed forward to meet head to head with his opponent. Clearly seeing their imminent death, the pyromancer teleported elsewhere or, at the very least became intangible momentarily before making their way over and out of the path of his attack. It was a maneuver that was as smart as it was aggravating, but at least now he knew that his opponent was capable of such trickery. He was determined to not allow it to happen a second time.

"Have you encountered these buffoons previously?" Vergil asked off-handedly as he formulated a secondary plan of attack. He was going to have to pay careful attention to his opponent's maneuvers. These were clearly more intelligent than the run-of-the-mill demons that they went against on a normal basis back home. Perhaps this island was home to a greater demonic gateway? He knew very little of what had brought his younger twin here in the first place, but if devils or human necromancers of this sort were this plentiful in these parts, then it made perfect sense what he might have been called there to do.

Glancing over at him as she buried her twin blades into the chest of one of the unlucky attackers, she nodded in agreement. It then occurred to her that these weren't the sort of beings that you probably saw back where he came from. Much like animals, it seemed that certain demons were native to certain areas. That made sense. She just never really thought too much about it. Why ponder it when they were going to die one way or another?

"Yes, unfortunately. This is far from the first time they have made their presence known. We have managed to push them back several times, but as devils do, they always seem to find their way back." She let one of the pyromancers believe that he had snuck up on her before stealthily spinning and showering him with the rain of daggers. The creature gurgled and then collapsed to the ground, dissipating into a mixture of ash and smoke. Whether there was actually anything inside of that hooded robe was beyond her, but so long as her blades worked properly against them, she would worry about that later.

Turning his attention back to his opponent, Vergil noted the trickery that Lucia had just used against her opponent. Yes, that made sense. They needed time to build up their attack, so using an opening provided by what seemed to be a distracted foe was a logical move if not slightly cowardly on the pyromancer's part. Why not bathe them with their own attack? Especially when they couldn't move? It would be far from the first time he had encountered a devil that behaved this way. The Soul Eaters that resideded within the walls of Temen Ni Gru came to mind. And to some extent, the Dullahan as well. By that metric, the fallen angels had to a degree as well. Now that he thought about it, this was actually a relatively common quirk among lesser demons. Perhaps he would have to keep that in mind for future encounters.

Just as the pyromancer closed in on him and readied its staff for an attack, a volley of summoned blades rained down from above it, pinning it to the ground and relieving it of its life force. Vergil then performed a full 180-degree turn and rushed one of his more unsuspecting opponents, a devil that, up until then, hadn't probably paid him any mind. Its focus had been on Lucia, the very last mistake it would ever make.

Meeting back up in the center courtyard, they stood nearly back to back, paying close attention to their surroundings. It seemed that there were still a few of the pyromancers left, and it would be foolish of them to retreat into the temple's interior with them still on the offensive, so they would finish this battle here and now.

As Lucia used her throwing daggers to take out another pair of the troublesome corrupted sorcerers, Vergil buried his blade into the chest of another, cutting it up the middle before spinning to stab another that had come from behind his back, his blade passing under his arm and up into the unfortunate creature's chest. One would imagine that creatures like this would learn not to flank their opponents in such a futile manner, but it seems that they had numbers on their side more than anything else and very little in the way of actual intellect. How typical.

"Of all of my younger brothers' companions, you were the only one I have never seen wielding a firearm. Am I to assume that you simply do not bother with him?" In truth, he already assumed he knew the answer, But he found no harm in asking. Perhaps she was opposed to their usage in the same way that he was? Or perhaps it was against the creed of her people? Either way, he could only assume she would have used one by now if that was something that she was used to doing.

"No one here uses them. And honestly, even if they did I still probably wouldn't. They simply are not my style. I have no experience with them." She charged at a group of them, running and jumping so that she could kick off one of the pillars that stood near the entrance. It toppled over and crushed one of the pyromancers as she kicked off of the wall of the structure that housed the Arcana and used her twin blades to cut down two of the pyromancers on either side of her. She landed and stood, brushing herself off as they fell to the ground dead. "But I can't help but notice that you do not either? Dante seems to be quite proficient with them. I can only imagine you know how to use them as well?"

It occurred to him at that moment that he had actually opened the door to this question, so he wasn't entirely sure why it took him by surprise when it was brought up. "I suppose you and I are one the same in regards to preference, then. Though I do suspect I have my own personal reasons. I don't abide by them. They… conflict with my preferred approach."

Lucia watched as he cut down another devil, leaping onto the top wall to take another from behind. She shook her head, kicking and slashing at one of the pyromancers that had made the mistake of trying to charge her from the front while its opponent launched fireballs at her from behind. She ducked and rolled to the side, allowing the fireball to graze the top of one of the unkempt hedges before hitting the wall and leaving a scorch mark. Thankfully the outer structure of the temple was not structural.

"Yes, I can see that. But so long as they die and my people are safe, I care little for how it is done. Whatever method works best for each hunter is the superior method." She leaped to join him, flanking him taking care of the enemies that approached from behind as he took care of the ones that came from behind her. After a moment, she kicked the final pyromancer off of the wall and watched it hit the ground with a thud, the creature stuttering as it attempted to find the strength to stand.

He hopped down the wall with her, the young guardian taking out her opponent as Vergil sheathed his blade. He then withdrew it a final time, turning to slash a single remaining opponent who had attempted to make a run for the gate. He would not allow it to retreat to inform its peers. He would give no quarter. Parlay was not requested and, as such, would not be granted.

The devil fell motionless to the ground, no blood coming from it as it dissipated and seemed to melt into the very earth below it. A strange bunch these specific demons were, seemingly more cloak than an actual physical being. It would not be the first time he had seen beings of this sort of disposition, but these were uniquely humanoid, and as such, were curious by their very principle. Were these humans who had turned to darker sorceries long ago only to fall prey to the perversions of demonic presence, or were they devils mimicking humans in an unconvincing but notable way? Perhaps there was some text on the subject that he could read into at a later date once he had nothing more important to do.

Vergil couldn't find any compelling reason to disagree with her, even if the methodology conflicted with his own personal ideology. But her point was solid. So long as your enemy died and underhanded tactics were not used, he could find no fault in that method. It was valid, whether he preferred it or not. Watching his brother and youngest son do battle against all manner of devils and demons had taught him that much. Oh, how his younger self would cringe in distaste. How tolerant he was now in comparison.

"A fair point."

But now it was time for them to turn their attention to the temple. If they ran into no further resistance, this could theoretically be a simple in and out trip. He didn't expect it to go that easy, but was it so wrong of him to wish for it just this once?

Lucy nodded in grateful acknowledgment of his statement. "Thank you. This should not take long. I simply need to assess the severity of the situation. You're free to follow me inside if you'd like, though there's nothing really to see aside from some old carvings on the walls and a few ruins. It's a maze in there."

Nodding, he stepped forward, silently making it clear that he would accompany her. There was no point in coming this far only to stand outside and wait like a child at the doctor's office with their parents waiting in the lobby for the appointment to be over. "Then perhaps it is best that I accompany you. If nothing else, it will expedite our return trip."

She smiled for a moment. "Then allow me to lead the way, son of Sparda. This might be a fascinating history lesson for you. Unlike Dante, I get the impression that the history and culture of my people might not be entirely lost on you."

He nodded in agreement. "Proceed, then."

(-~-)

Reaching the top of the roof had been a bit more difficult than either of them had guessed when the idea had been suggested. Neither of them had been prepared for just how few buildings there were with which to reach the desired altitude, both of them clearly underestimating the sheer difficulty that came with trying to climb up a building that had no easily accessible path upward.

Sirrus landed for the Sun on top of the closest building to their target, standing up and brushing himself off. The entire roof was caked with dust and grime, something that his rather expensive boots didn't agree with. At least they cleaned easily, and the rain had probably made the situation worse than it normally was. And to be honest, that was the least of his problems right now. They could very well be an active danger. His footwear was a secondary or tertiary issue at best.

Arriving with a huff, Griffon flapped exhaustedly towards his target and was clearly struggling to stay airborne. Realizing this, the avian demon dipped downward to allow his master to let go of him, the young summoner rolling to a stop and pulling himself quickly to his feet in a sort of rolling motion. He'd become rather adept at that given the frequency in which it happened, but he was appreciative of the fact that this time he was at least close to the ground. Nothing did a number on someone's knees worse than having to fall from the height of a small building and land on concrete. No amount of last-second knee-buckling to transfer your momentum into the ground was going to help you with that.

"Do you see anything?" V asked as he surveyed their surroundings, not seeing much of anything himself. It stood to reason that if someone was watching them, they would be well hidden. He liked to think that their opponent probably figured that they would be smart enough to at least look around and not just walk straight back to their house and lead him to their front door. But then there was always the chance that their rival did see that little potential in their cognitive functions and had underestimated them.

He shook his head. "No, unfortunately, I don't. But given the circumstances, I didn't entirely expect to, either. He's smart. Very smart. How unfortunate for us." He folded his arms around his chest, seemingly deep in thought as he looked out over the night sky. The soft mist that the once-mighty storm had devolved into was cool and pleasant, a welcome respite after the intense heat that they had generated during the fight. That was always one of the most irritating things for him to do after using his powers was to cool back off. Generating intense heat was both uncomfortable and exhausting at times. That energy had to some fr somewhere, after, and the laws of thermodynamics did apply somewhat to inhuman abilities. All the more reason to use his power sparingly.

"We will catch him. It's only a matter of time before he finds us or we find him. And after this, I feel like he may be losing his patience." V stepped forward, looking around them to try and get a better feel for his surroundings. It felt somewhat different up here as opposed to below. Something in the atmosphere around them was just... Unrecognizable. Like a slight heaviness in the air that shouldn't have been there, or a static charge that had no place in the space they were in. He couldn't put words to it, but he did recognize it. "I get the impression that the clock is ticking down towards the inaction of Belial's plan, and considering that I am a part of it, they'll want me present for it. It's inevitable."

"... Correct."

Both the young summoner and the adjudicator turned around rapidly, astutely aware of the fact that neither of them had said that. The dark, otherworldly voice that had spoken was completely unrecognizable to them, and that immediately set them off. This what he had been sensing? 

Jumping back towards serious a sign, V summoned Griffon and Shadow to his side, entirely unwilling to allow whoever this was to get any closer. And as soon as he did, he realized that his assumptions had been far more accurate than he might have liked.

"So you are the one who has been causing so much grief while I was gone." Sirrus's tone was calm, but completely and utterly unamused. His demeanor was a complete misnomer in comparison to the broiling rage that he actually felt on the inside. This was the man who had hurt Flora and had attempted to end V's life. "Say the word and I shall end him here now. His feet will never move from where he now stands."

V spared him a momentary glance before turning his attention back to their opponent. As tempting as that was, he had questions first. He gently gestured with his hand for Sirrus to stand down before turning his attention fully to his pursuer, his facial expression alone indicating that he was less than pleased to see him. "You can speak, then. Good. Because I have questions, and you'd better have the answers."

The summoner in the white robes then turned their attention to Sirrus for a moment, tilting their head slightly to one side as they seemed to study him. They became still, almost as though something about what they were seeing didn't make sense to them and they were physically trying to cope with it. It seems that he had very little interest in actually acknowledging V's statement. "... What are you?"

Resting his hand on the hilt of his blade from within his coat, Sirrus took a more aggressive stance. He planted his right foot firmly on the ground, shifting his center of balance slightly so that if he needed to draw his blade he could on a moment's notice. "The thing you fear most, should you continue to pester him. He has questions. I suggest you answer them."

He seemed to take Sirrus's comment seriously, but it was actually hard to tell considering the fact that neither of them could actually see his face. He shifted his buddy towards V, cleaning his head in a manner that implied he was somewhat miffed, and that perhaps this was not how he had seen his plan coming to fruition. He then raised his hand and gestured towards V in a manner that implied that he was waiting for him to speak, until he disregarded that notion by speaking himself. 

"Scolopendra, eradicate."

Without warning, a colossal serpentine demonic creature surged forward from over the corner of the building behind the summoner, taking both Sirrus and V by surprise. It seemed that it had been lying and waiting this entire time, quietly waiting for its master to call upon it. It charged them, jetting forward and a speed so rapid that they were both nearly unable to respond. Sirrus jumped to one side in an effort to get out of the way, clearing a considerable distance in the process and unknowingly opening up a mass of window for the serpentine demon to use to attack its true target.

It bolted towards V with lightning speeds, jetting past Griffon and running straight into Shadow's harpoon attack. The demon snarled as it was hit in the mouth and down the throat, but redirected at the last moment, coiling around the panther and uprooting it like a tree from the ground before checking it to the side. It then headed for V, mouth open and ready to swallow him whole. The young white-haired summoner managed to block its oncoming attack with his cane, but lost his footing in the effort to do so, stumbling backward and nearly falling off the building, something he did in earnest a moment later when the serpentine devil snatched him off his feet and quite literally through him from the roof of the building. He cried out before disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Griffon screeched in shock before bolting over the edge of the building after him, dodging the serpentine devil as he did so. Sirrus embedded his now drawn blade into the side of the devil, cutting it from its upper body straight down into its tail with a force powerful enough to keep him rooted in the spot despite the speed in which the creature was moving. He held his stance as he allowed the creature to use its own momentum to eviscerate itself, earning him an agonized screech from the demon as it tumbled off the side of the road and hit the pavement below, shattering the ground beneath it and setting off the alarms of several nearby cars as his body crushed several of them. He then glanced over momentarily to see what had become a V, hoping with everything in him that his split-second decision to stop the devil from going after him had not cost his young companion his life. From what he could see, Griffin had hit the mark and had managed to at least slow V's tumble to the ground. It seemed that the summoner and his serpentine familiar were not on the same page in regards to the condition that their target needed to be delivered in.

Taking what he perceived to be an opening to attack, the summoner rushed forward, gaining a new vantage point in order to see what had become a V himself. But in the process, he waved his hand and another devil came forward, this one clearly more humanoid and considerably less serpentine. It was the devil that V and the others had fought against in the train terminal, and as such, much like the demon that Sirrus had just sent crashing off the side of the building, this one was unfamiliar to him.

"Hatred… " the robed man said nothing further, his summon seemingly understanding the implications of its master's silence. The demon left forward, It's safe in hand, and it was meant head-on by the adjudicator's blade. He pirouetted around the demon, slashing and blocking in turn with it as it attempted to gain the upper hand. He carried the dance of battle toe-to-toe with his opponent, hyper-focused on not being taken off guard. He needed to finish this quickly and go see what had become of his friend. V could be gravy injured and in need of his help. This demon was simply an obstacle in his path, powerful, but nothing special compared to what any of them had fought previously. It was simply its complete unfamiliarity to him that gave it any sort of advantage. And its extreme speed didn't exactly detract from this advantage.

Seemingly surprised by this, the enemy summoner drew his own staff and seemed to consider joining his summon for a moment before thinking better of it. There was no way that he would be able to keep up with them, not with the condition his leg was in. He'd only done so in the train terminal because V had been taken by surprise and thus was able to be singled out and drawn away from his own group. He would let his summon take care of this. It would not be long before he would be able to recover his first summon and do battle against him again on more even terms.

(-~-)

Back down on the ground, V was collecting himself, painfully aware of the fact that he had probably just twisted his ankle to some extent. Still, that did not stop him from managing to clamber to his feet, unwilling to allow Sirrus to do battle against their opponent alone.

"... Thank you. If you hadn't been there..." V said somewhat shakily, more than a little displeased with the fact that he had just fallen off of a 20-story building. I had Griffin knock them there for him, he would be nothing more than a smear on the pavement right now. Or, knowing his incredibly bad luck, he would probably still be alive and just in excruciating pain, awaiting the sweet embrace of death.

"Don't sweat it, V. But I think we might actually have bigger problems right now," Griffon said as he looked up and away from his master, something slightly behind him catching his attention. But the avian demon seemed slightly apprehensive.

"Yes, you're right about that. Shadow has not regenerated yet, and my distance from her is not helping things. I must get back to the building and retrieve her so that we can assist Sirrus. And hopefully this time I won't get thrown off of the building by a giant serpent."

"Actually, that's not what I was talking about," Griffon said with a slight shuddering nervous laugh added to his tone involuntarily. V took notice of this and slowly turned his head, catching sight of something that he was not pleased to see by any measure. It seemed that Scolopendra had regained its senses, and even with what seemed to be a massive wound, it wasn't entirely out of the fight just yet. This was going to be a problem. A big problem.

(-~-)

Striking a blow against his opponent, Sirrus managed to finally injure the demon that he had been doing battle against, the creature seemingly unaware that it had left a temporary opening when it swung its scythe, he ducked underneath its swing and came up behind it, cutting it up the back as he went. The demon howled but did not relent, jumping to the side and retaliating in the form of a holy unexpected downward swing that managed to catch Sirrus in his side, drawing blood. He stumbled but managed to collect himself and turn back to face his opponent. As it came at him a final time. He sidestepped it, assuming that it might expect him to duck underneath it again before stabbing it through his side and eviscerating it, allowing its black blood to spill across the roof of the building. It's snarled and toppled over, seemingly panting before hitting the ground and dissipating. Its essence disappearing along with its body.

Leaning over slightly to try and regain his composure as a result of his injury, the red-haired adjudicator was clearly uncomfortable, but far from out of the fight just yet. It was going to take more than a cut to his side to take him out. No, this ended here and now. But as he turned to face his opponent, he was unpleasantly surprised to find a secondary blade bearing down on him, this one hitting a much more important mark. The blade managed to embed itself in his rib cage on the left side just below what would have been a fatal blow. Or at least for a normal mortal. Sirrus knew that a blade of this make would be insufficient to carry out the task that its owner had in mind, and this was something that seemed to take the other summoner by surprise.

The summoner took several steps backward before being knocked nearly across the roof, his head hitting the back of some sort of air conditioning unit. They scrambled to their feet, readying their staff as Sirrus board down on them, a less than pleased look on his face and an almost feral darkness in his eyes. The aura of the entire rooftop changed in an instant, a sort of sinking darkness overtaking it that made the air heavy. The summoner knew instantaneously that they had made a grave mistake as Sirrus reached down and pulled the blade from his chest, discarding it on the ground across from them with an uncomfortable wince. He then craned his neck to look at the summoner, an eerie glow encapsulating him. The summoner seemed to note the change in atmosphere, readying themselves for a counterattack before involuntarily allowing their arms to slouch slightly, invisible disbelief as to what they were suddenly beholding evident in all aspects of their posture.

"You're a… impossible. They no longer-" The statement was shaky as was the evidence to its validity as they witnessed something they had not expected to see. Certainly his eyes deceived him. This could not be… 

"Exist? Then clearly your eyes deceive you. Or perhaps not. I would not bet my life on that assumption. For our eyes may deceive us, but our rational mind knows the truth, and what you believe to be true just might actually be the case. Though you had best hope that not to be true. For your sake, that is." The overtly threatening tone of that statement was enough in of itself to weaken the resolve of the other summoner, but they held fast and continued to prepare themself. They had no way of countering an attack that they couldn't predict, so until Sirrus struck, they had no idea what they were up against. "I did not live this long to be filled by you."

No verbal response to such a statement existed. The robed summoner wondered for a moment how few of his kind could even recognize what this red-haired man truly was; what terrible power came with that. The potential for destruction he possessed. Instead, they considered their other options, what few they had. They all seemed ineffective as a form of combat in the face of such an imbalanced power dynamic. But perhaps they could escape. After all, the red-haired adjudicator was not the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve. And one way or another, they would have to accomplish what they have set out to do today. There was getting around that. And they needed to be alive to do it. 

But Sirrus paid little heed to what they could be considering, completely and utterly ready to remove all traces of them from the face of the Earth. They had just tried to kill both of them. It was only fair that he returned the favor.

Sirrus closed his eyes for a moment and moved his hand to his holstered blade, allowing his hand to rest on his hilt. His body erupted into supernatural heat, enveloped in a torrent of black flame, but not burning. His hair blew around him, brightening with an almost supernatural red glow as though it had been infused with neon. He then opened them to reveal the same darkness that had been in them a mere handful of nights ago on the balcony of V's home, but accompanied by a level of malice and destructive potential that had not been present then. This was the manifestation of the potential that that darkness held, and he would make its terrible power known. It had been a terrible mistake for this summer to start this fight under the moonlight.

"The next time you do battle against me, don't make the mistake of doing it in my element. But I have a feeling that after this, there won't be a next time."

And then he struck.

(-~-)

Something tells me this guy is about eight different types of screwed right now, and that V has his work cut out for him fighting that giant serpent. But hey, at least Vergil isn't in town to know about it lol! I hope you're enjoying these longer chapters that are resulting from me being able to use the voice-to-speech function on my phone. I'm getting almost twice as much done in the same amount of time, so that translates to much longer chapters for you guys! It's a win-win, and I had a blast writing this one. Well, speaking it technically, but you know what I mean. See you next Wednesday and I hope to see you in the comments! Have a lovely weekend! 

#Hiraeth #V #Sirrus #Post Devil May Cry V #Post Devil May Cry 5 #FanFic #DMCFanFic #My Post Devil May Cry 5 AU #My Post Devil May Cry 5 AU OC's #My Post Devil May Cry V AU Fanfiction #My Post Devil May Cry 5 OC #DMC #DMCV #DMC5 #Devil May Cry 5 #Devil May Cry V #Devil May Cry #DMCAU

[zrtranscripts]

Home Front, Mission 28: Battle at Rackthorn

All that Glitters

~

JANINE DE LUCA: Hello, listeners. Colonel De Luca here, and I must warn you, today's fitness session may differ from your expectations. Do begin warming up. Stretch out, or commence jogging on the spot. Before I begin this workout, I will repeat my briefing for runners in the field who are concerned for Runner Five's well-being: Runner Five is safe and well. Repeat, Five is safe and well.

We do not know how Artemus Thurman found his way to the top of the lift shaft before Five got there. We can only presume he knows the secrets of Spectrum Mall better than any of us. However, for reasons we also do not understand, he simply looked at Runner Five for a few moments and then walked away. Five is now back in the camping shop in the Spectrum Mall. I have personally instructed Five on how to board up and secure the entrance to the underground village. If you are listening, Five, we will rescue you.

And for that purpose, we all need to be fitter than ever, which brings us to this so-called workout. Of late, Mr. Yao has been littering Abel's comm facilities with notes from his [paper rustles] Demons and Darkness campaign, a type of fantastical war game, I believe. Normally I am not one to engage with Mr. Yao's absurdities, but certain notes have caught my eye: a scenario entitled Battle at Rackthorn, in which a castle is besieged, a situation not dissimilar to our own, trapped in our shelters, surrounded by zombies.

The siege is described as unwinnable, something I have never countenanced in tactical exercises. Indeed, examining the particulars, it seems to me there is an obvious way to win, provided my solution is within the bounds of physical endurance. So in the coming break, you may continue warming up or rest, and when we return, you will test my solution.

You will adopt the motions required of Mr. Yao’s fantasy hero to prove his war game can be resolved, but I must emphasize, this will not be one of Mr. Yao's cleaning romps. It is an exercise in tactical theory intended to test my thinking and keep your minds and bodies sharp. When the break ends, be assured, I will be pushing you to your very limits, and this absolutely most certainly will not be any fun.

~

JANINE DE LUCA: Now, during my tactical training days, I often undertook simulated exercises. For such sessions, it is vital to fully invest in the scenario. So direct your mind to accept the following field conditions: you are a bold adventurer. Having bested the mighty Abhorroghast, you have been summoned to Castle Rackthorn, a hilltop fortress. The castle's feasting hall surrounds you, a vast stone chamber lit by flaming torches. [flames crackle]

The hall is packed with frightened, wide-eyed peasants. [crowd chatters] Pushing past them to the back of the hall, you find a staircase. The man who summoned you is at the top. The staircase is a spiral of unevenly-sized stone blocks rising through a turret. You must ascend quickly.

For the next minute, run on the spot, lifting your knees as high as you can and swinging your arms. High knee running will keep your strides large enough to avoid tripping on the irregular steps. Begin. [rapid echoing footsteps] As you ascend, you pass a window. Outside, knights crowd the battlements, armor shining in the moonlight. Beyond them, a horde of gigantic spiders claw at the castle walls.

The castle was besieged shortly after your arrival. Nobody knows where the spiders hail from, though rumors say they were bred by dark magics in nearby caves. [swords clash] Maintain your pace. According to Mr. Yao's story notes, you were to join with the knights to battle the spiders while the castle evacuates before it inevitably falls, though Mr. Yao has overlooked better uses for your sword, I think.

You are nearing the top. That is one minute passed. Unfortunately, Mr. Yao has spilled tea over the notes describing the dimensions of the castle. I judge one minute to be a sound minimum for reaching the top of the stairs, but if you would like to keep running in the break, by all means consider it a reasonable addition to Mr. Yao's campaign.

~

JANINE DE LUCA: Atop the spiral staircase, there is a wooden door slightly ajar. Entering, you find a bedchamber, its walls covered by oak bookshelves. Slumped over a desk, there is a bearded man wearing thick gold chains and red velvet robes, snoring. The man is King Sigmund, the castle's cowardly ruler who has given in to despair at the spider horde, retreating into his cups. Near the king, you notice a bookcase drawn away from the wall, revealing a stone tunnel beyond, a secret passage.

You must snatch a gold chain from the king's neck. I believe the rules of the game mandate a dice roll to judge your success. [dice clatter] Ah. You successfully snatch a gold chain, but the king is woken from his drunken doze. As you dart into the secret passage, he rants - Mr. Yao specifies a Scottish accent for the king. Odd, in a world with no Scotland. Very well, for the sake of the simulation -

“Stop, blaggard! Doref, is that you? You'll never take this castle as long as I'm alive!” While you plunge through the secret tunnel, the king pulls a lever by his desk. Arrows shoot from hidden mechanisms in the ceiling above you. Listeners, balance on one foot with your knees and arms bent. Now hop to one side, landing on the ball of your opposite foot, then hop back again. One minute of side-to-side hopping will simulate you dodging your way through the tunnel. Go!

Racing down the passage, you hear the king's distant ranting descend into pitiful sobs. You continue dodging as arrows strike the floor around you. Halfway there. Mr. Yao has described the king as a vicious, petty oaf who exiled even his most trusted advisor in a fit of paranoia. The passage is lit by torches which grow fewer and fewer as you advance. Continue your evasive action. You are nearing the end.

You feel fresh air on your face. The darkness ahead must conceal an exit. The arrows have stopped. You've likely cleared the traps. You can stop dodging, though if you'd rather continue during the break, that would be a reasonable abundance of caution, given your current position.

~

JANINE DE LUCA: You emerge from the secret passage into a woodland glade far from the castle. Behind you is a scarp of stone. Before you is a group of enormous spiders, each the width of a wagon, far too large to storm the secret passage. A hundred eyes gleam under starlight and hairy mouthparts twitch. [spiders hiss and chitter]

To your left, there is a boulder. Clamber atop it quickly. Now the dimensions of these spiders are clearly laid out in Mr. Yao's creature compendium. Their abdomens are bulbous and they cannot reach their own backs. To get past, you must jump across the spiders, leaping from abdomen to abdomen.

Jumping on the spot will serve for the motion. Keep jumping for one minute, landing with your knees bent. Go. The spiders move their mouthparts in odious glee as they perceive how close you are. The spiders are trying to shake you off their backs as you move from hideous body to hideous body. Jump faster.

[dice clatter] You're halfway over the spiders. One leaps towards you, but you are able to duck it. I must admit, these dice are a fair simulator of the luck element in any engagement, though the bright colors are unnecessary. You are almost across the spiders. They hunger for your living flesh. Do not slow. One minute elapsed.

You have jumped across the spiders, landing beyond their reach, and may stop jumping. You have a fair start on the monsters, but they are giving chase. Ahead, between tall trees, you spot a river. [water flows] The river descends from a waterfall uphill and is crowded with slippery rocks. Jump onto the rocks, then leap up river toward the waterfall.

Regrettably, Mr. Yao has smeared chocolate over his notes on the local geography, so the distance to the waterfall is unclear. To compensate, please keep jumping for as long as you can manage in the coming break.

~

[water flows]

JANINE DE LUCA: You near the waterfall. The spiders are some way behind, slipping on the rocks. Approaching the fall, you cast the king's gold chain into the water. Abruptly, the waterfall sweeps aside, revealing a cave. According to Mr. Yao, the fall is a water elemental which guards the cave, but has a weakness for glittering treasure. Your offer has bought passage. Rather reminds me of bribing enemy patrols with bullion in the Caucasus.

Unfortunately, the elemental is too impressed by the offering. Suspecting you have more gold, it summons a wave to wash you under the river. As you enter the cave, you hear a great rush of water coming from ahead. You climb the cave wall to your right. There is a crack in the wall just below the cave roof with a thin ledge opposite. You can wedge your feet in the crack and lean on the ledge.

Adopt a plank position, lying on your front with your weight on your forearms and toes. Hold that for one minute from now. [wave splashes] The first wave washes over your head and you're almost swept away. Hold on! The wave washes through the cave, seemingly endless. Hold fast. Now the first wave has passed, your perch is just above the water line. The wave is still coming. Fortunately, it washes away the spiders chasing you as they enter the cave. Water is still rushing below you, but you can feel the wave waning. Maintain the plank!

The wave has died down, leaving only puddles in the cave. The elemental should be too tired to summon another, but feel free to plank a little longer in the break, just in case. Otherwise, climb down and rest. The dark cave lies ahead, beckoning, for this is the cave system the spiders hail from, and deep within its heart, you are sure to find their master.

~

JANINE DE LUCA: Deep within the caves in a dank cavern filled with luminous blue moss, you discovered a hunched figure in a black cloak sitting amid a circle of giant arachnids, all bent in supplication. The figure has long dark hair and many jeweled rings. He is Doref, the king's chief warlock and most trusted adviser. Plainly, he commands the spiders.

Mr. Yao describes Doref's treachery as shocking, which is naive. In my experience, political advisors are often complicit in coup d'etat. In any case, Doref sees you and shoots to his feet. There is a glowing shard of crystal cupped in his hands. He whispers to it and the spiders charge. You must fend them off.

[spiders hiss and chitter]

Since it is doubtful many listeners will have a sword to hand, one minute of punching air will suffice to simulate combat. Begin punching now. The spiders reel from your blows. but Doref seems confident of victory. Doref mocks you. “For too long, I have schemed to overthrow that cowardly king. I won't let you stop me now! Rip and tear, my spiders!” Unhelpfully, Mr. Yao has simply specified “evil voice” for the warlock. I trust that was a fair attempt. [dice clatter] However, the dice are against you. Few spiders lie slain. Keep fighting. As Doref whispers to his crystal, more spiders appear from the shadows. Clearly, the crystal controls them.

You have survived one minute and bought yourself a temporary reprieve, but spiders keep coming. As you rest, a horizontal column of water comes crashing into the cavern, thrashing like a snake. [water splashes] It is the water elemental, still seeking your life. Thinking swiftly, you point at Doref’s crystal, and the elemental, entranced by the shine, descends upon it. Quickly, while Doref is distracted, aim your sword at the crystal and throw it. [dice clatter] A 20, excellent! Your sword smashes the crystal from Doref's hand while he gapes at the elemental. The crystal shatters, releasing an explosion of incandescent magical energy.

Around you, the cavern begins to shake and collapse. To your left, you spot a tunnel to the surface. As you flee, Doref leaps to follow, but the rings on his fingers have caught the elemental's attention and a tendril of water drags him back into the collapsing cavern. You have nearly escaped, but if you'd like to keep exercising over the break, feel free to strike an additional spider or two as you climb toward the surface.

~

SAM YAO: Hey folks, it's Sam here. Janine was called off on urgent business, so she asked me to take over the broadcast. I've been busy baking in the kitchens, but she's left a note to catch me up.

“Dear listeners, begin cooldown jogging. Congratulations! Many of you have confirmed completion of the simulation via ROFFLEnet. Your character has escaped the collapsing caves and the warlock has been crushed behind you. With the crystal gone, the spider horde is scattered. Castle Rackthorn has been saved and the villain slain, far more efficiently than in Mr. Yao’s planned story.”

I don't... are these... are these my D&D notes? Oh no! No! You're not supposed to get to Doref yet! All the obstacles... it's supposed to be impossible! That can't... how did you get past the spiders? [sighs] Listeners, I think um... yeah, I think we're going to have to end the session here. It's about time anyway, which is good because uh... because it-it looks like I've got some major rewriting on my hands. Oh boy. [sighs] Janine, what have you done?

~

#zombies run #zr home front #zrhf 28 #battle at rackthorn #zr transcript

[westfalloutboy]

Ferrets and Cowardly Lions

Special thanks to @devilrising for being my beta for this piece, you’re the best <3 I haven’t really written Drarry before so this was a fun project. I’ve always wished that there was more fanfic about Hary and Draco being professors together and being in a relationship so I just decided to write my own. If you have any prompts for professors Drarry send them to me!

Harry Potter just totally, absolutely, sucked as an Auror.

 “’Mione, I just don’t know anymore, I don’t think that I’m meant to be an Auror,” Harry said with a sigh, running his hand over his face in exhaustion. He was currently sitting in his best friend’s office as she read over the multiple files on her desk, every so often taking a moment to have a bite from her lunch that Harry had brought.

“That’s what you said after you decided you didn’t want to do quidditch either,” she pointed out, not bothering to look up from her files. “Remember, Ginny tried to get you to try out for the Chudley Cannons and you purposefully messed it up.”

“I did not! I just had a sore shoulder that day!” He exclaimed, sitting up in his seat. “And why would I ever want to be on the Chudley Cannons team?”

Hermione simply shrugged her shoulders and looked up at her best friend. “What are you going to tell your partner when you resign?” She asked, dropping the quidditch talk.

“Ron will be fine,” Harry said, waving his hand dismissively.

“The same Ron who gave you the silent treatment for a week after you told him you didn’t like the Cannons? The one who has dreamed about the two of you being partners since fifth year?”

Harry slumped back down in his chair. “Fuck.”

“I think if you find a good job that would be a good replacement that maybe he would be a little more understanding of it…maybe,” she said with a grimace.

“You’re right,” he murmured, racking his fingers through his hair.

…   …   …   …

“You’re what!?” Ron shouted at his best friend.

“Ronald! Rose is trying to sleep!” Hermione shouted from another room. Harry grimaced and leaned back from the fire call, scared that Ron would reach through and strangle him.

“I’m quitting the Aurors, Ron. I’m miserable, I hate it,” Harry said, leaning back on his heels. “Look, I thought that being an auror was what I wanted but after four years of it, I’m just not happy doing it. I don’t know if maybe it’s because defeating Voldemort sapped it out of me and I didn’t realize it, or what. But being an Auror, it’s just not my calling. I keep getting in trouble with Robards for going against orders, I don’t like following the auror rules, I just want to be able to do my own thing, and I don’t know, I can’t do that as an auror.”

“Well, what-what are you going to do?” Ron spluttered.

“Well, I reckon, I don’t know.” Harry scratched at his head. “I think- I want to take some time to find myself. My entire life I’ve been told I needed to defeat Voldemort, but after that, I wasn’t really left with any real direction.”

“Well, if you need any help, you know ‘Mione can help you find a job. It’s one of the perks of being best friends with the Minister,” he said, giving Harry a wry smile.

“Thanks mate, but this is something I need to figure out on my own,” Harry told him, giving his best friend a smile of his own.

1 year later

“Someone needs to talk to him,” Hermione hissed, looking down at the man who was currently passed out on her couch. Harry’s glasses were cracked, he was wearing sweatpants that Hermione was quite certain did not start out the colour that they currently were, and a baggy Falmouth Falcons shirt.

“I’ve already tried, he won’t listen,” Ron huffed, looking down at his best friend. For the past year, while Harry was supposedly finding himself, he had travelled the world, gotten a few tattoos, and turned into a lazy drunk. Pretty much in that order.

Harry let out a loud snore and rolled over on the couch.

“Oi! Harry! Wake up!” Ron shouted, kicking his friend lightly in the back.

“’M sleeping, go ‘way,” Harry mumbled.

“You need to go home, Harry, now,” Hermione said with an exasperated sigh. “You have a meeting with Headmistress McGonagall at noon.”

Harry shot up from his spot. “What?”

“McGonagall wants to meet with you at Hogwarts today at noon, remember? We had an entire conversation about this last week,” Hermione huffed.

“Why am I meeting Minerva?” He mumbled, rubbing his face tiredly.

“She didn’t say, she just asked to meet with you, now get up, go to Grimmauld Place,  take a shower and for the love of god shave that disgusting beard. Merlin, Harry,” Hermione exclaimed.

Harry scowled as Ron yanked him off the couch and led him to their fireplace. “It’s been a nice time having you here mate, but it’s time for you to go,” he said, clapping Harry on the back. Harry scowled and headed back to his own home. 

…

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Headmistress?” Harry asked, slowly sitting down in the green corduroy chair that sat in front of McGonagall’s giant desk.

“Mrs. Granger wrote me a letter claiming that you were in need of a calling,” she said simply, taking off her glasses and folding them up before she set them on the desk. “My Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has decided that she vehemently hates children and I am in need of a new professor before the start of the new school year.”

“I don’t think I would be a very good teacher,” Harry said with a laugh.

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. “Are you so sure, Mr. Potter?” She asked, folding her hands in front of her on the desk primly. “You’re the Savior of the wizarding world, you were an auror for what? Four years?”  She asked.

“And?” Harry asked, leaning back in his seat.

“And when you were only a fifth year did you or did you not teach a group of students Defense Against the Dark Arts?” She asked.

“Well, that was just because Umbridge wasn’t teaching us anything and we were in the beginning of a war with Voldemort!” Harry exclaimed.

“One year, Mr. Potter, that’s all I ask. Be the Defense Professor for one year, and if you don’t like it, you can leave and go back to getting drunk and passing out in the Granger family’s house.”

“How do you know about that?” He demanded.

“Mrs. Granger and I are friends, we keep up with one another, Mr. Potter. Now, Winky here shall show you to your new quarters and help you get settled. Then, the fun begins and you get to get started planning for your first year here. You still have three months so that will be plenty of time,” she said just as the house elf appeared and looked up at Harry.

“I didn’t even agree!”

“You will do a splendid job, my boy,” Dumbledore said from his portrait behind McGonagall.

Before Harry could even continue to argue, Winky had dragged him out of the room.

3 years later

“Professor Potter!” A first year shouted as he bursted into Harry’s office, tears streamed down his face.

Harry looked up from his grading and frowned. “What is it, Tommy?”

“P-Professor Malfoy took ten points from Gryffindor because I s-said his name wrong,” he sobbed, hiccuping slightly between words. “We-we’re gonna lose the House Cup because of me!”

“We aren’t going to lose the Cup because of the smelly ferret,” Harry told him, ruffling his hair. 

The young boy looked up at him. “Promise?” He asked, his eyes wide. 

“Promise, just you wait, we’re going to win just like Gryffindors do every single year,” Harry said and stood up. “Now, it’s past curfew so let us get you back to the common area and you go up and get some sleep.”

Tommy nodded and followed Harry back to the Gryffindor commons. Once Harry was absolutely sure that the young boy was okay, he headed straight to the dungeons to find a certain Potions professor.

 Not even bothering to knock on the Slytherin’s office door, Harry waltzed in and leaned against the door jamb and stared at the blond man. Draco had himself bent over a large textbook. 

“You really took ten points for him saying your name wrong?” Harry asked, looking amused. Draco jumped and glared at the man in his doorway. 

“Shut the door, were you raised by muggles?” He snapped. 

“Actually, I was,” he said, giving Draco a pointed look before he shut the door and took a seat on the green velvet couch. 

“He called me Professor Mafloy,” Draco said, scowling. 

“Mafloy? That’s it?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“I told you, Potter, Slytherins are winning the Cup this year. You and your cowardly Gryffindors are getting far too cocky, and the Slytherins deserve to prove that we are in fact the superior house,” the lanky man said with a sniff. 

“If you say so, now what exactly are you doing?” Harry asked. “I’ll just get you back and take twenty points from Parkinson’s kid tomorrow.”

“Working on a new potion,” he murmured, writing something down in the large leather bound book. “Pansy will in fact show up and throw you in the lake and you very well know it.”

“Has she forgiven her son for getting sorted into Hufflepuff yet?” Harry asked, thinking about the poor eleven year old boy who was still getting howlers from his mother. His twin sister, on the other hand, was sitting very happily in Slytherin, just how their mother wanted.

“Unfortunately, Blaise has not had very much success in getting her to stop being angry,” he said.

“It’s not Zachary’s fault that he’s a Hufflepuff, I mean you’ve met the kid, he’s the nicest child in his year,” Harry stated. Draco shook his head. 

“He’s the first non-Slytherin in the entire Parkinson line,” Draco pointed out.

“And he’s sitting happily in Hufflepuff where he belongs, the boy wouldn’t survive in Slytherin, I’m still unsure as to how he survives with Pansy as his mother,” Harry stated. While everyone in all of Hogwarts were sure that Harry and Draco absolutely hated each other, that wasn’t entirely true. While in front of the students and faculty, Harry and Draco were enemies, in the private rooms of their offices, the two had actually become wonderful friends. Neither were absolutely positive how it had happened, Harry reckoned it started when Draco had run into Harry when the Gryffindor was moving into his quarters, and for the first time since eighth year, saw one another. Draco had awkwardly helped Harry pick up his box that he had spilt and walked with him to his new living quarters. 

From there, the two had an unsteady, awkward friendship that after three years blossomed. Being the youngest professors at Hogwarts, and having as much history between them as they did, it made their camaraderie interesting, but easy. If one of them had a difficult day of classes, the two would meet, either in their office or their rooms and drink and talk absolute shit about their students. Sometimes they would talk about the nightmares they both still struggled with. Other times, they would talk about how they had both felt so entirely lost before they found their places back at Hogwarts. While no one but the two of them knew that they were friends, they had learned everything about one another. 

So much so that it almost felt like Harry knew Draco’s friends as well as they knew their own. But, before they knew it, the two of them were no longer calling one another Potter and Malfoy. Now they were simply Harry and Draco. Unless one of them was irritated. 

“You have anything to drink in here?” Harry asked, looking around the office. Draco’s office was not what anyone would have ever expected for Draco Malfoy. The walls were all covered with shelves and cabinets. The right wall was nothing but potions, potions ingredients, and other questionable objects that Harry was slightly too scared to ask Draco about. The left wall was absolutely nothing but books, as was the wall behind Draco’s desk. The wall in the front held Draco’s awards and achievements. The man didn’t boast about it, or even really talk about it, but he had become one of the most accomplished Potions masters in the entire wizarding world. 

Not very many people were happy about a former death eater being so accomplished at potions, but Harry was beyond proud.

“No, you know I don’t keep drinks in my office, especially not this close to potions. unlike you, I don’t want to have to worry about students breaking into my office for alcohol.”

“That’s only happened twice,” Harry pointed out. 

“Twice! Potter! Twice!” He gave his best friend a look. “How on earth have students gotten into your office and stolen alcohol from you not once, but twice?”

He shrugged. “Their charms teacher is amazing at their job.”

“That’s obviously it,” Draco snorted and stood up straight. He brushed his robes off and looked Harry up and down. “What kind of professor wears jeans?”

“We are not getting into that conversation right now,” Harry said and stood up. “Now, let’s go to your rooms so I can get a drink and you can explain to me how calling you Professor Mafloy is deserving of taking ten points from a first year.”

Draco chuckled and followed Harry out of his office. “He started crying as soon as I took the points away,” he said, a small smirk on his face. 

“Draco.”

“All I’m saying is that Gryffindors are undeserving of their title of being courageous. I have yet to meet a Gryffindor who isn’t scared of me.”

“What am I?” Harry scoffed. “Chopped liver?”

Draco just scoffed and shook his head before the two headed to his rooms. 

The next day, Harry barged through the headmistress’ office with a scowl on his face. 

“Minerva I am over it!” He shouted, unceremoniously falling into the chair in front of her desk. “Malfoy has crossed a line! He took ten points from one of my students for calling him Professor Mafloy! Ten points!”

Before Minerva could even bother to open her mouth, the door to her office slammed open once again, this time a potions professor marched his way into the office. 

“All of Gryffindor House has started calling me Professor Mafloy! I’m taking a thousand points!” He roared. Minerva let out a sigh and looked at the two grown men before her. 

“Honestly, Gentlemen, you have been colleagues for three years now, don’t you think it’s time to be done with these petty arguments?” She asked tiredly. “The two of you should have left all of this behind after the war.”

“He has his students calling me Mafloy, Minvera, Mafloy,” Draco ground out. Harry smirked. 

“It could be worse, I could have them all call you Professor Ferret,” Harry said, crossing his arms, absolutely pleased with himself. He honestly didn’t even have to tell the Gryffindors to call Draco Mafloy, they had decided to do that themselves. 

“Ferret!?” Draco all but screeched and looked at the Headmistress. “Minerva!”

“I am not getting in the middle of the two of you and your mindless squabbling. Mr. Potter, I advise you to cease and desist on calling Mr. Malfoy anything but his given name. The same goes for your Gryffindors. And if I hear about either of you needlessly taking points from one another's house, I will take your point privileges away, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Ma’am,” both men said dutifully. 

“Good, now go to your next classes,” she said, dismissing the two professors. 

The two stomped out of the office and Draco glared at Harry. 

“I hate you,” he muttered and Harry gave him a cheeky smile. 

“I hate you too, Professor Mafloy,” he said before he spun on his heel and headed to his first class of the day, letting out a yelp as Draco’s stinging hex hit him on the heel. He flicked two fingers at the blond man before he turned out of the hall.

…

Draco clenched his jaw when he saw the stuffed ferret sitting on his desk. “Potter? Was this your doing?” He demanded, not even bothering to turn to look at the man who was currently smothering away his amusement. 

“Would you even believe me if I told you no?” He asked, coming up and picking up the stuffed Ferret. “Aw, Malfoy, it looks just like you,” Harry cooed.

“Remember that statement next time you accept a drink from me, or a hangover potion, Potter.”

“You ruin all of my fun,” Harry said sullenly, as he looked at the white ferret. “But no, this was not my doing. I believe a certain Headmistress left it for you,” he told his friend as he picked up a note that sat on Draco’s desk. 

Draco snatched it and scowled at the paper. “Let this be a reminder that I will take your point privileges away.” He looked up at Harry sharply. “Did she leave you a threat too?”

“Yes,” he said, a scowl now on his face as well. “A stupid little lion that was crying. She’s mean.”

“She is,” Draco agreed before he grabbed the stack of papers. “Your rooms or mine tonight?”

“Mine, I don’t trust anything you try to give me to drink,” Harry said with a sigh. “Although, I will warn you, I have a boggart hiding in my room at the moment and I’m still not entirely for sure where it’s at.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “How on earth do you lose a boggart?”

Harry laughed as the two walked out of Draco’s office together. “I’ll be honest, I am an absolutely lousy professor. I’m still not sure how I even got my job.”

“Nepotism, I would imagine. Considering your best friend is the minister.”

“My best friend is a lousy potions master, what are you talking about?” Harry asked, bumping his shoulder against Draco’s. Draco’s cheeks turned a light pink.

“Shut up, you git. You’re horrid when it comes to grading, and keeping up with your assignments, and creatures, you’re also pretty bad at keeping your Gryffindors out of trouble, but I won’t lie, you’re an excellent Defense professor. Probably one of the best that Hogwarts has ever had.”

“Draco,” Harry cooed. “That’s the nicest thing you have ever said to me!”

Draco glared at his best friend before heading up the stairs. 

“So, I’ve heard about some new colleagues that we should be getting,” Harry said conversationally as they got to his rooms. 

“And?” Draco asked, raising his eyebrows, the two of them walking in.

“And Hagrid is recommending Charlie Weasley to take over Magical Creatures, and Neville Longbottom just got a job offer to teach Herbology.”

Draco froze and stared at the man in front of him. “A Weasley and Longbottom?” He demanded. 

“At least it isn’t Ron?” Harry offered, pushing Draco into his rooms. 

“Thank Merlin it isn’t the Weasel, but still, Harry, I am going to have to deal with both of them?” He demanded as Harry poured the two of them both a glass of firewhiskey and they sat side by side on Harry’s old couch. 

“I think that you’ll be just fine,” Harry stated, patting Draco’s knee softly.  “Did I ever tell you I actually had a crush on Charlie?”

Draco glanced at him. “Merlin, Harry, just how many Wesleys did you have a thing for?” He demanded. 

Harry hummed and took a sip of his drink. “Three. You’re not allowed to know the third one because you’ll just make fun of me.”

That made Draco grimace. “Don’t tell me it was the Weasel.”

“Fuck no!” Harry said, absolutely horrified at the very thought. “It was George.”

“No kidding,” Draco laughed. 

“Unfortunately George is very straight and very much interested in his wife. Charlie, on the other hand, a few years ago he was trying to figure out his sexuality and I was going through my weird journey of self discovery. I got sex, Charlie realized he was asexual. Kinda bruised my ego won’t lie,” Harry said. 

Draco snorted, something that once upon a time would have shook Harry to his core to hear Draco Malfoy do something so undignified. “My first time was with Theo.”

“Gross!”

“Not nearly as bad as the time I got so fucked that I tried to fuck Greg.”

Harry choked and looked at his friend. “No!”

Draco’s cheeks went red. “Unfortunately. He turned me down, thank heavens.”

“You and Goyle,” Harry laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. The two continued talking about their past conquests as Harry’s floo opened up and someone stepped through. 

“Harry could you possibly- Malfoy?” Hermione said, confused. 

“What’d you mention-Malfoy?” Ron said, looking at the two men sitting uncomfortably close to one another on Harry’s couch. Draco coughed and rapidly stood up. 

“Well, Potter, thank you for the drink but I do believe it’s time I retire to my rooms,” he said, brushing off his pristine trousers. 

“Draco,” Harry said with a sigh. “Finish-“

“I have some grading to get done,” he said before quickly leaving Harry’s rooms. 

Ron frowned. “That was weird, what was Malfoy doing here? Why was he here?” He asked. 

“We were having drinks,” Harry said with a sigh, setting his glass down. “What did you need?”

“I didn’t know that you and Malfoy were friends,” Hermione said, sitting on the couch next to Harry.

“Yes, Draco and I are friends, we’ve been friends. Now, what did you need,” Harry said impatiently. He wasn’t trying to be rude to his friends, it was just that he enjoyed spending a few hours each night with Draco. It was the thing he looked forward to most throughout the day. 

Ron gave his best friend a confused look. “You’re friends with the ferret?”

Harry made a face. “Don’t call him that. What did you need?”

“Well, we were going to see if you wanted to get drinks considering we haven’t seen you in weeks,” Hermione said, crossing her ankles. 

“But it seems that you’re already ahead of us,” Ron said dryly. “Seriously Harry, the ferret?” He demanded. 

“Yes, Ron, the ferret, we’ve been friends for a while now,” Harry said. 

“Oh,” Ron said and made a face. “Why?”

“Why are we friends?” Harry asked, glancing over at the man. 

“Yes, why are you friends with Malfoy? Think about everything he put you through! He’s a horrible person! Do you not remember seventh year?” Ron demanded. 

“You mean when he lied about recognizing me? Or what about eighth year when he apologized to all of us for letting his parents influence him? You have no idea who Draco is anymore, he’s an amazing person,” Harry exclaimed defensively. 

“Harry,” Hermione said slowly. “Is there something that we’re missing here?”

“What do you mean? We’re friends, so what?” Harry asked, shrugging his shoulders. He stood up and poured both Ron and Hermione something to drink. 

“That didn’t look like being just friends,” Ron mumbled. “You were...cuddling. Wait, are you together?!”

“We were just sitting together and talking, it wasn’t cuddling, Ron. We aren’t together”

“Harry, do you like him?” Hermione asked, staring at the man wide eyed. 

“What? No? I mean why would I?” Harry spluttered. 

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious mate,” Ron said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. 

Harry handed the two their glasses and slumped his shoulders. “Is it obvious?” He asked, frowning. 

“I mean, we’ve known you since you were eleven, we’ve seen how you were with Cho, and Ginny, and even George,” Hermione said and Ron shuddered. 

“Don’t remind me of that,” he mumbled. 

“And you’ve always had a weird obsession with Malfoy,” she continued, elbowing her husband in the side. “It makes sense.”

“It does?” Ron asked, looking between his two friends. 

“Well of course it does, it could be one of the reasons why Harry has been so happy these last few years,” Hermione reasoned, taking a sip of her firewhiskey. 

“Well, don’t worry, nothing is going to happen between Draco and I. He’s definitely not interested.” Harry sat across from the two and crossed his legs. 

“He looked interested,” Hermione said.

Ron looked at her. “Did you not see how fast he ran out of here? Are you sure about that?” 

“Honestly, Ronald, he ran out of here because  of us,” Hermione huffed.

Harry let out a sigh and rested his face in his hands. He was going to lose his mind. 

….

“I can’t believe you ran out of my rooms like a Hufflepuff last night,” Harry said with a sigh, falling onto the couch in Draco’s office. “I was stuck dealing with both of them questioning me for the rest of the night.”

Draco looked up from the potions essays he was grading and frowned. “Why were they questioning you?”

Harry let out an awkward laugh. “Well, uh, funny thing is, they thought that we were er, together.”

Draco slowly set down his quill and smirked. “Together, huh? Cute.”

“Shut up, Prat.”

“I don’t think you’d be able to handle being with me,” Draco said, a small smirk still on his face.

“Trust me, I’ve been handling you just fine as it is, if we were in a relationship my life would probably be a lot easier,” Harry said with a shrug. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Of course, Molly would stop hinting at me that I needed to get back together with Ginny, Ron and Hermione would stop trying to hook me up with random Ministry friends, and best of all, I’d have you in my bed. I’d say it wouldn’t be too horrible,” Harry finished, kicking his feet up onto the couch. Draco came around his desk and walked towards Harry before he looked down at him. 

“You’d want me in your bed? Is that right?” He asked and Harry gave him a sly smile. “Where did you get this confidence?”

“Ron and Hermione encouraged me,” Harry told him.

“Well, then what exactly are we doing in my office?”

A slow smile grew on Harry’s face. Draco pulled him off of the couch and took Harry’s hand in his and dragged him out of the office. “We’re going to get caught,” Harry laughed. 

“We won’t, don’t worry Potter,” Draco said before they rushed up the stairs and went straight to Harry’s rooms. 

Draco laid his head on Harry’s chest. “So we’re doing this?” He asked, running his hand up and down Harry’s side. 

“Yeah, I think we are,” he murmured. 

“Can we keep it quiet for a while?” Draco asked, tilting his head back to look at Harry. “As much as I enjoy this, I have to admit, I still have fun making everyone think we hate one another.”

“You just like to yell at me in front of people,” Harry joked, kissing the top of his head. 

“That too,” Draco said, smiling.

1 year later

“I heard that Professor Malfoy and Professor Potter are dating,” a third year Hufflepuff, Molly whispered to her Defense partner. 

Harry smiled and leaned down between the two girls. “What makes you think that?” He whispered. 

“Oh, uh, Professor Potter,” she said awkwardly. 

“How about we get back to working on our freezing spells?” He suggested before waltzing up to the front to watch everyone work on the spell. 

“Rodger, no stinging hexes! Five points from Slytherin,” he said. 

Later when Harry walked into his rooms, he found Draco glaring at him in his bedroom. “Five points for a stinging hex?” He demanded, pinching Harry’s side. “What happened to not taking points for stupid reasons!”

“He cast a stinging hex! It wasn’t even his partner that he cast it on!” Harry said, smacking his boyfriend’s hands away from him. “Why are you being grumpy?” He demanded. 

“Because, Potter, one of my students saw this!” He exclaimed, pulling the scarf off of his neck and showing a large love bite. 

Harry smirked. “You weren’t mad when I left it on your neck this morning,” he said, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist. “So it’s fine, just use a glamour tomorrow. Now, I’m tired, it’s nearly midnight, I’ve been grading and I’m ready to change into something comfier.”

“Do you know how many questions I got about it?” Draco demanded as the two of them changed into their pyjamas. 

“It’s fine, we’re going to have to go public eventually,” Harry said, pushing Draco onto his bed and straddling him. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, lately.”

“Thinking about what?” Draco questioned, staring up at the man. 

“I think it’s time for us to come out and be public,” Harry said, taking Draco’s hands in his. “I mean, all of our friends and family know, and just because we’re together doesn’t mean that we need to stop harassing each other. I’m still going to call you a prat when you’re picking on students.”

“What do you think people would say?”

Harry hummed. “I don’t think it truly matters,” he said, giving Draco a soft kiss. “I just want to hold your hand during mealtimes and sit with you during quidditch matches.”

Draco pursed his lips for a moment. “I think I can handle that,” he said. He gave Harry a soft kiss just as someone knocked on the door to Harry’s quarters. “I’ve got it,” he said and kissed Harry again before he climbed off of Harry’s bed and answered the door.

“Harry, it’s a Gryffindor!” Draco called and Harry let out a whine. This wasn’t what he meant when he told Draco he was ready to come out.  

He went out to the front room and frowned when he saw the Gryffindor prefect, Aaron, sitting nervously on the couch with Leslie, a first year. “What’s going on?”

“I-I just miss my parents,” she sniffed, hugging what looked like Draco’s stuffed ferret to her chest. 

“I’ll get some tea,” Draco murmured. “I might have some Peace Draught lying around here somewhere.”

“Love, quit leaving your potions in my quarters,” Harry huffed before he sat next to Leslie. “How about we floo your parents?”

“Th-they’re muggles,” she sniffed, rubbing her eyes. Harry let out a hum and crossed his legs. 

“Well, that does put a damper on things, doesn’t it?” He mused and looked at the prefect, still staring at the men in shock. “Aaron, you can take a seat if you would like.”

Aaron slowly sat on the other side of Leslie just as Draco came back with a tray of teacups. 

“Miss Hay, your’s has some drops of Peace Draught in it, if that is okay with you,” he said.

“Thank you Professor Malfoy,” she said, taking the tea cup. 

“You’re welcome,” he said, a small smile on his face before he looked at Aaron. “It was a good call to ask for help, Mr. Evans. Professor Potter is excellent at calming down cowardly lions.” He carefully set the tray of tea on the small coffee table.

“Draco,” Harry chided before he put his attention back to the now calm little girl. “How about tomorrow, you and I will write a letter to your parents and set up a time for them to come and visit you?”

Leslie looked up at him wide eyed. “You can do that?” She asked. 

“Of course, I’m Harry Potter, I can do whatever I want,” he said with a small smile. 

“Prat,” Draco murmured, smacking the back of Harry’s head. “I’m heading back to bed, let me know if you need anything.”

He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Harry’s lips before he went back to Harry’s bedroom. 

“Well, how about the two of you finish your tea and I’ll take you back to your rooms?” Harry suggested, taking a sip of his own tea. 

“Are you and Professor Malfoy dating?” Aaron blurted before slapping a hand over his mouth. 

Harry gave the sixth year an amused smile. “Well, I’m not sure if that is really any of your business, is it?” He asked.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“Five points from Gryffindor for being nosey!” Draco called from Harry’s room. Harry rolled his eyes. 

“Five points to Gryffindor for helping out your fellow student,” he said, winking at Aaron. Once the little girl was calmed down, Harry walked the two Gryffindors back to their rooms before he returned to his own where Draco was already fast asleep. Harry smiled before he climbed into bed with him and kissed the side of the Slytherin’s head softly. Hopefully they wouldn’t wake up being the topic of everyone’s discussion.

*Note. I still want to write more in this universe so I’ll be writing more stories about it. This was mainly just setting it up, but I think it’s done for now. The final scene was inspired by this drarry post by @spielzeugkaiser.

Part two is now here 

#harry x draco #Draco Malfoy #drarry #Harry Potter #drarry fanfic

[theauthorandtheartist]

Cliches

This goes along with the Dannymay day 7 prompt: 2nd chances

I don’t know where I came up with this. I just started writing and didn’t stop. I tried to do a story without using dialogue, and I think I succeeded. I had to write this for a school assignment, so I had to explain the Danny Phantom world a bit because my teacher had no idea what it is. 

Cliches are a wonderful thing. We cling to them like lifelines, hoping for a good "happily ever after" to make everything better. In fact, I'm sure you were expecting a "Once upon a time" to start off the story now weren't you.

Yeah, you were.

Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, but here, there are no cliches. No long-lived and well-loved story arcs to follow, no "good guys" or "bad guys" or save the world scenarios. Here, the princess rescues the prince and the dragon is locked in the tower. Here, the evil stepfather can't get the upper hand over his rebellious teen son. Here, the protagonists are monsters and the villains are heroes.

Probably the only cliche in the whole story is the existence of myself, the narrator, who will shamelessly add my own thoughts and commentary to the story as I please; simply because I can.

Pleased to meet you.

Now, with hasty introductions out of the way, let’s get down to business. I am here to tell you a story, though I’m sure you already knew that. It is my job as narrator, to lovingly guide you through the history, lore, and thrilling storyline that the author has painstakingly crafted for you to enjoy. You’re welcome. 

Let’s just jump straight into it shall we? I’m sure you already know everything there is to know about Amnity Park, and you don’t need me to tell you about their slightly paranormal pest problem. Surely you don’t need me to inform you about the daily ghost attacks, or the ghostly superhero known as Phantom who repeatedly confronts the angry spirit and either persuades them or forces them back across the veil. Assuredly, you know all about Phantom’s tragic backstory, of how he was caught in the veil between dimensions, and was officially turned into Schrödinger’s boy -both living and dead simultaneously. Of course you already know about the struggles of being both a hero and a high school student, missing class and skipping sleep in order to keep his city (and his secret) safe. I don’t need to tell you about the ghost hunters in town, who relentlessly hunt and attack Phantom without warning, oblivious that he is their son. 

No, you already knew all of that. 

Still, it is quite tragic to see a family pitted against one another, even if it is due to ignorance. Danny Phantom is nowhere near being ready to confide in his parents, but progress always starts with a first step. This story is that first step. 

Let’s meet our protagonist, shall we? 

Daniel James Fenton -or Danny, as he prefers to be called- is a good looking kid. Tall and muscular, without the air of privilege or haughtiness that often surrounds such people. His messy black hair and sparkling blue eyes are enough to make any girl swoon, though he does not seek out such attention, preferring instead to mess around with his two best friends. While most boys his age spend their nights drinking or partying, Danny spends his stargazing (or more recently, ghost fighting). He truly is the ideal high school boyfriend -but don’t let him hear me say that, he’s a flustered dork most of the time. He does his best to avoid the limelight, even letting the other kids bully him if it means that he won’t be looked at twice. 

Danny Phantom however, has no qualms with spotlights. In fact, he doesn’t mind them at all as long as they don’t get in the way or result in other people getting hurt. His ghostly form does not look dissimilar to Fenton, swapping black hair for blinding white and blue eyes for toxic green. His normal T-shirt and jeans shift into a full body, black HAZMAT suit with white gloves and the trademark DP logo on the front. It is rather easy to spot, especially when he’s flying around and glowing. 

To hide his alternate identity, Danny created two different personas for his two halves, slipping seamlessly into character whenever it is needed. Phantom is brash and hot-headed, a master at distracting his enemies with witty banter and endless puns. Fenton is cowardly and shy, infamous for being too clumsy to handle glassware. Fenton is terrified of ghosts, Phantom hunts them. Phantom is willing to sacrifice his own safety and wellbeing for others, Fenton gets misty-eyed over papercuts. This way, even if someone had thought that a ghost and a human could be the same, no one would ever suspect the two to be connected. 

It was crucial that the two were never suspected. If the world knew that half-ghosts  existed, Danny’s identity as a human would be overshadowed by his identity as a ghost. Ghosts don’t have rights, therefore Danny wouldn’t have rights. There would be nothing to stop anyone from marching down and kidnapping him for use in loads of painful and most likely unethical experiments. After all, the popular opinion on ghosts was that they were evil, semi-sentient projections who could feel no pain. That doesn’t do much to help his case. 

The people need to be convinced that Phantom was a hero, and that process starts with his parents. The Fentons are the leading ghost hunters in Amnity, and they have dedicated their life to catching and researching ghosts, even if they aren’t very good at it. They are a perfect team. Maddie is thin and slender, and her blue HAZMAT suit does nothing to hide her curves, but she is not weak in the slightest. Her proficiency in martial arts and science is renowned throughout the city, and every thug knows not to mess with the red-haired mother. Jack, however, has the dexterity of a brick wall and the mass to rival an elephant. He looms menacingly over all who approach him, but his childish nature and agreeable personality make it easy for him to interact with others -even if he is a little too passionate about his profession. 

 The Fentons are stubborn, but not bullheaded. They can see reason when they need to, and unfortunately, with the infamous Phantom of Amnity Park bleeding out on their doorstep, they need to reevaluate their theories. 

Phantom lay slumped against the porch railing, eyelids fluttering as he struggled to remain awake. It was a rather gruesome sight, and if Maddie didn’t know that he was a ghost, then she would be furious at whoever dared do this to a child. His right arm pressed hard against his wounded side, soaking the white glove in acid-green, ectoplasmic blood. A nasty gash on his forehead leaked the same vile liquid into his snowy white hair, plastering it against his sweaty, pale skin. In all honesty, he looked like he had brought a toothpick to a knife fight. 

The Fentons frowned at each other, debating their next move. They knew how this happened, news of Phantom’s latest battle against the hunter ghost known as Skulker had been broadcasted on every television for the past three hours, what they didn’t know, and couldn’t figure out, was why Phantom had come here. They were his enemies, for all intents and purposes, they were very loud about their threats to rip him apart. But here he was, bleeding out on their porch, and Maddie found herself fighting between her hunter’s curiosity and her motherly worry. 

Phantom didn’t look older than her own son, Danny. She hadn’t noticed that before, but now it was painfully obvious how young he was. It also struck her that he was a ghost, which means at some point or another Phantom had been alive. She couldn’t imagine losing Danny, and this ghost didn’t look older than seventeen. 

She sighed, and scooped the hero up into her arms. The hunting could wait. It was against the hunter’s code to kill anything that you hadn’t weakened yourself, anyways, best to fix him up and let him be on his way. She could chase him down again later. 

Now I know you’re thinking, “but Mr. Narrator, isn’t the hunter nursing the huntee back to health and becoming friends a huge cliche?” And to that I say, yes. However, that is not what we’re doing here. They do not become friends and instantly trust each other because of this little incident. This is a first step, nothing more. 

After calming her husband’s fears, and assuring him that she was fine, Maddie cleared off the dining room table and laid the ghost on top. He had lost consciousness at some point while she moved him, and his head lolled back as she set him down. She frowned at the ghost, listening to his labored breaths. Ghosts didn’t need to breathe, but Phantom had always insisted. She never knew why. 

Jack walked up the stairs from the lab, carrying a spool of glowing green thread. Phantom’s wounds would need stitches, and the special thread wouldn’t fall out when he used his power of intangibility. Silently, she stitched up his side, flinching at his whimpers he made every time the needle made contact. She had to remind herself that he was a ghost, and therefore couldn’t feel pain. Any reaction he gave was just part of an elaborate ruse. 

You and I both know that wasn’t true.

She nodded as Jack brought her some bandages, holding his head upright in order for her to wrap them around his ectoplasm-stained hair. A neon green stain spread out on the tabletop, seeping into the wood. This was fine, she would just have to clean it later so the ectoplasm didn’t bring any food to life. 

Satisfied that there were no other major lacerations, she once again scooped up the teenaged hero and moved him slowly to the couch. His unnecessary breathing had evened out, and she could feel a faint, slow, rhythmic thump against the fingers pressed on the base of his neck. It couldn’t be a heartbeat. Ghosts don’t have heartbeats. It must’ve been her imagination. 

As you can see, Maddie is not very receptive to new ideas. 

Laying him on the couch, she expertly ignored the slight hiss he made as his stitches stretched. He began to softly snore. She left the room. Jack was not much help when she explained what she’d felt, merely parroting her feelings back to her with a few insults directed at the ghostly species thrown in. “Ectoplasmic scum” was a popular one, along with “spook” and “monster.” Maddie didn’t know why she didn’t agree with those insults anymore. 

A soft groan echoed from the other room, and Jack jumped to his feet to grab weapons. Maddie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Phantom was no threat now, maybe she could get some answers out of him. A strangled, frightened yelp called from the living room, along with a loud thump and a groan. Upon investigation, she found Phantom on the living room carpet, curled up into a ball and shaking. A small pool of his green blood had soaked through the bandages and was now leaving little polka-dots on the rug. 

Phantom apologized for the carpet. 

At first, Maddie was taken aback. Phantom was hurt. Phantom had nearly died. Again. And he was apologizing about the stains on her rug. She didn’t expect most humans to be that selfless, much less a ghost. Nevertheless, Phantom was apologizing for the carpet, as a thin line of green dribbled down from the corner of his mouth. 

She sighed and drew closer, eyes softening as Phantom flinched and tried to back away. She continued to advance, slower this time, and murmured words of encouragement as she approached. The ghosts glowing eyes held suspicion, but he did not flinch away this time. His usual witty banter was gone, much to Maddie’s worry, replaced by the soft pleas of a frightened child. A child faced with death, who did not want to die. 

She called Jack into the room, and asked him to grab some bedding from the storage closet. She had made up her mind. Phantom was not a threat. Jack warily nodded and left to do as she asked, and Maddie gently took Phantom up in her arms again, wiping the green liquid from his face. He stiffened at the contact, but made no move to escape. 

Soon enough, Jack returned with a feather comforter and several pillows. With Phantom’s telekinetic help, they made a soft nest and placed him gently inside. Maddie fussed over him as Jack stood to the side suspiciously. 

Needless to say, Phantom was very confused. Why was his parents helping him? They hate Phantom. Did they see him change back into human form? Is that why they're being so nice? No, Maddie kept calling him “Phantom,” if she knew, she would call him “Danny” or “Sweety.” His secret was safe for now. 

That still begged the question of why they were helping him, and when he asked, their only reply was along the lines of “you’re not a threat,” which really did more harm than good when it came to calming his nerves. 

Nevertheless, they had saved him, and so when Maddie asked for an interview, Phantom didn’t decline. Their questions were standard, if a bit rude. They were nothing he hadn’t answered before, and he only had to lie twice, when their questions got a little too personal. He refused to answer how he died. They didn’t need to know that. 

His healing factor had kicked in, rapidly knitting the skin back together and repairing the damage to his muscles. The room had gotten progressively more relaxed as time went on, and Jack was no longer shooting glares at him from across the room. Instead, he was questioning him with just as much zeal as Maddie. However, Phantom could feel his time here drawing to a close. Danny Fenton needed to be back home before curfew, and he couldn’t do that if Danny Phantom was in the living room. 

Hastily making an excuse to leave, he said goodbye to his parents and phased through the door before they could catch him. His head, which had been overtaken by an awful headache, protested as he flew down the street and into an alley, but he paid it no mind. Unwinding the bandages around his head, Phantom felt his transformation overtake him. 

His heartbeat sped up, his temperature rose, and his breathing grew more frequent. Granted, his heartbeat and breathing still weren’t exactly fast, and his temperature wasn’t exactly warm, but he could pass as human and that’s all that mattered. Seconds later, Danny Fenton exited the alley and headed home, walking carefully as not to disturb the stitched side under his shirt. 

When he arrived home, his parents were whispering in hushed voices, glancing over at the couch occasionally. They greeted him excitedly as he walked inside, before running downstairs to the lab to go over what Phantom had told them. What Danny had told them. 

He sighed and scaled the steps, making a beeline for the door to his room. He should start his homework, but then again, chances are the ghosts aren’t going to let him sleep tonight, so he should take a nap while he can. Not bothering to change clothes, Danny flopped onto his mattress, asleep before he hit the covers. 

In the later weeks, the Fentons would continue to search for Phantom. However, now it was for conversational purposes instead of experimental ones.  He even visited on his own time once or twice for a chat. The overall acceptance of Phantom increased as well, because if the ghost hunters thought he was okay, then the rest of the people would follow. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than before, and that’s all Danny could really ask for. 

Who knew it took nearly dying to repair broken relationships? 

Well, I did, for one, but I don’t count. I already know how Danny’s story ends. I know how his secret is revealed, and how his parents react. I know who will hurt him, who will betray him, and who will make amends. I know lots of things, including this: Danny will not live happily ever after. He just won't. There will always be more ghosts to fight, more threats to his friends and family, and he will not live happily ever after. His life will be filled with struggle and pain, and there’s nothing I can do to stop that. 

His afterlife however...well, that’s another story. 

I should tell you sometime.

#danny phantom #phic #danny phantom fanfiction #phandom #phan phic #phanfiction #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #ghost #dannymay2020 #dannymay #day 7 #dannymay day 7 #second chances

[andrewmoocow]

Steven Universe: The Fantastic Mutants chapter 3: Enter the Brotherhood (originally posted on July 11, 2020)

AN: Sorry this took so long to come out readers. Coronavirus,  online school and all that jazz just had me occupied for a good while.  Hopefully you've been keeping yourselves entertained in the midst of  this quarantine; I've gotten into Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Scooby-Doo  Mystery Incorporated, Cardcaptor Sakura, Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic  among others. Anyways, let's get back, at long last, to the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning of Gifted Youngsters (or just Xavier Institute or XIHLGY since that name might be a bit too long for some)  and see how the Crystal Gems and their new allies can get out of this one!

--

A few hours prior to their invasion of Professor Xavier's school, the Brotherhood of Mutants sat around a table examining the exploits of the  Crystal Gems to get a good idea of what they'll be getting into. "Don't  ya think we're in over our heads?" Juggernaut asked his fellow mutants  while watching video footage of Lapis stealing the ocean. "I mean, one of them can literally use 75% of the planet to kill us all!"

"The blue one may have the strongest power, but she is also rather emotionally fragile." Black Tom remarked. "In fact, all of them are pretty unstable once you think about it. Insecure, dependent, obsessed, haughty, cowardly, hotheaded..."

"Quit with the psychology stuff Tommy!" Pyro exclaimed out of boredom. "What I wanna know is how could they brainwash three world-destroying monarchs so easily? Could the same happen to us too?!"

"Well, the boss maybe." Sabretooth answered. "Speaking of which, where is he?"

However when Creed wasn't looking, the master of magnetism was standing behind him with Mystique at his side. "Lemme guess, he's standing right behind me."

"How could you guess? Do you have psychic abilities like  Xavier?" Mystique snarked as she sat down next to the clawed mutant. "I've been discussing plans with Erik for the past few minutes, plans on how to infiltrate these Gems. He chose the water-controller as the one I should masquerade as since it would require that I retain my usual skin color."

"He's got a good point, but why are we hunting these down in particular?" Avalanche wondered. "Is it because of how celebrated  they became for allying with the Avengers?"

"Not quite everyone." Magneto revealed. "Our current ally Doctor Doom wants the child's gemstone for the purpose of creating his own army of half-Gem warriors. And taking care of them will be so fulfilling for me after Rose had left me all those years ago."

--

In the present day, the Brotherhood had begun their assault on the Crystal Gems, with their archenemies the X-Men caught in the crossfire and the Fantastic Four as well. The mansion was left damaged in their arrival  and the Brotherhood now has the heroes surrounded.

"Now my friends, are we going to make peace by handing the child to me or must  we resort to drastic measures?" Magneto purred threateningly, holding out his hand and expecting someone to shake it.

"Like we'll ever let you have Steven!" Garnet stated. "Just a few weeks ago, he was nearly captured in a situation similar to this one, and we refuse to let it happen again."

"So when I want to do what's right, you try to fight back." Erik pointed out. "Yet when those three Diamonds plotted to destroy Earth, you let them off scot-free simply because they were mourning a bratty child that was no better than them? The hypocrisy is quite strong here!"

"Can we just cut the blabbing about our morality and fight already?!" Amethyst complained while wriggling free from Black Tom's vines and pouncing on Toad, tying his tongue around his eyes to blind him. "Why are you always targeting me?!"

With that, the battle properly began. The Crystal Gems charged at the Brotherhood of Mutants with the X-Men and Fantastic Four by their side, tearing up the mansion even more.

During the chaos, Morph snuck around the  battlefield in the guise of Garnet and tackled Sabretooth from behind, sitting on top of both his arms. "You little shit, get offa me!" Victor  exclaimed in agony while Morph then took the form of Groucho Marx. "I'd have you cry uncle, but you don't really have one as far as I know." He quipped while pretending to hold a big cigar.

Meanwhile Steven  & Connie had formed into Stevonnie to gain a better advantage over  Magneto, but he used psionic shields against their sword. "Gem fusion! I remember that quite well!" the master of magnetism recalled. "Garnet and Amethyst fused much like you to tear Auschwitz apart."

"Auschwitz?! You mean the Nazi concentration camp?" Stevonnie asked. "You must've been one of the Jews locked up there, right?"

"Indeed, me and my parents as well." Erik answered. "But alas, I wasn't one of the lucky ones."

--

It was October 7, 1944, towards the end of World War II when Erik's mutant powers awakened. When his mother was heartlessly shot dead by the  scientist Klaus Schmidt, Erik promptly went berserk with a loud cry of "NEIN!" followed by manipulating every metallic object in the room, even crushing a pair of army helmets and the heads of the Nazis wearing  them.

Klaus was excited at Erik's potential, but his joy turned to  fear when a loud crash was heard before a massive purple flail burst through the roof of his office. "Mein gott." The mutant ally of the  Third Reich muttered in awe of Sugilite. "Hey small fry!" the brutish fusion grinned while grabbing Schmidt by the collar with two large fingers. "Why don't you try picking on someone your own warped fascist  government?!"

"Please let me go!" Klaus begged for mercy. With a toothy smirk, Sugilite gave her word and dropped the man back through  the hole made in his roof, landing Klaus on his desk and making him too injured to get up. "Puny Nazi." Sugilite sneered before separating into Garnet and Amethyst.

"Bitte, hilf mir." The boy who would become Magneto croaked while crawling out from underneath the rubble, mildly injured but thankfully not comatose. "Bunte damen, hilf!"

Unfortunately, his voice was too hoarse for anyone around to hear. Not even the Nazis carrying away the bodies of his mother and Klaus were able to pay attention to the young mutant. "Is anyone else in here?" the voice of  Rose Quartz called out as she stepped into the ruined office. However, she was able to find a certain young man pinned under pieces of ceiling. "Are you okay young man?"

Still hoarse, Erik was unable to give  his name to the Gem. "Hallo, mein namen ist Rosenquartz." Rose introduced herself in some sloppy German. "Kannst du mich verstehen?"

"Rose!" the commanding tone of Captain America distracted her for a bit. "You have to come with me, they're bringing reinforcements from HYDRA!" he urged the Crystal Gem leader. With a small gasp, Rose turned back to Erik with some comforting words. "Don't worry little one." She assured him in English. "I'll be back for you soon."

But unfortunately for Erik, she never did.

--

"So you're hunting us down partially because Rose forgot about you?" Stevonnie asked. "Honestly, I'm not really surprised."

"I remember what happened that day!" Pearl exclaimed. "Rose couldn't come back for you because she was poofed during the battle and we had to retreat. I am truly sorry we were unable to make do on her promise."

"Sorry just won't cut it!" Magneto boomed, pinning Pearl to a wall with a steel beam using his powers."And no matter how much she tried to make  amends when we met again, I still never forgot."

--

Nearly twenty years later in 1963, the Crystal Gems were touring the city on a  sunny day when they found a large group of people gathered before a stage, where a man made a speech. "What are those guys doing?" Amethyst asked her fellow Crystal Gems. "I'm not sure, but I believe we should get a better look." Garnet answered.

As the Crystal Gems blended into the rather blasé crowd, the man continued speaking. "Despite the fact that you lauded such beings as the late Captain America, you also hypocritically look down upon mutants for possessing similar abilities."

"Uh actually sir," a young news reporter with a fake toothbrush mustache  spoke up. "There is a clear difference. Captain America was given his  powers by science to help win the war. Mutants on the other hand were  born with their powers that could go out of control if pushed too far."

"Did anyone ask for your opinion boy?" the man boomed as he glared at the  reporter. "Please don't take it out on me sir, I'm just a young reporter!" the newsboy nervously squeaked and then high-tailed it out of there. "But thanks for the story menace!"

"Hmph, children." The speaker rolled his eyes before returning to his speech, or he would've  had he not found a familiar face joining his audience. "Wait, I remember you!" he shouted. Using his magnetic abilities, he pushed the spectators away by forming a path straight to Rose using the steel fence that once separated them. "Rose Quartz. How have you been coping with the captain's demise?"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Rose asked the mutant. "Of course you'd forget about me." He replied. "I am known as  Magneto, the master of magnetism! But I'm sure you'd at least remember me calling myself Erik."

"Oh my goodness, Erik?!" Rose exclaimed. "I am so sorry I didn't come back to you like I promised! There was HYDRA coming for us at Auschwitz, I just didn't have time and-"

"I believe that's enough!" Magneto roared before he proceeded to use the  fences against Rose. "You have forgotten me at the camp, and now I shall  make sure everyone forgets you!" He tossed the fences at the Gem, but Garnet & Pearl quickly deflected them. "Stay away from her!" Pearl called. "Amethyst, get everyone out of here while we take this one on!"

Amethyst gave a comical salute before she rounded up all the human spectators with her whip and dragged them to safety. "I see how it is." Magneto  boomed. "You are just like all of them."

"No, you don't understand  Magneto!" Garnet stated. "We've actually met and fought alongside a few mutants before! There was this Canadian one during the war, and we even met En Sabah Nur as well! The Crystal Gems value all life on Earth, whether they be ordinary humans or otherwise!"

"You can try to rope yourself into my good graces all you want Gems!" Erik growled. "Because nothing can ever change the past!"

--

"That fateful battle was how we first met Xavier. He had an older team of  X-Men that saved us from him." Amethyst recalled. "Speaking of which, where could they be now?"

"Wrong time, wrong place!" Sunspot  exclaimed while he fired a blast of solar energy at Juggernaut, who was unfazed. "Could this get any worse today?!"

"As a matter of fact, it can." Mystique replied sharply, snapping her fingers to summon a pair  of massive blue and purple robots that towered over pretty much  everyone. "Pink gem detected, pink gem detected!" the machines noted in unison. "Bring boy to Doom immediately!"

"Sentinels?!" Jean exclaimed. "And it seems this time, they've been modified to hunt him down!" Emma replied as the Sentinels held out their hands to trap Steven in a forcefield. "Guys, a little help?" he called out from inside his prison. "I can't seem to get out!"

"STEVEN!" the Crystal Gems screamed while the Sentinels slowly took off into the sky with the boy in tow. "Don't worry Steven, I'll save you!" Kitty exclaimed. "Storm, give me a boost!"

"You got it!" Storm replied, grabbing the younger mutant by the waist and lifting her up high with her flight abilities. When she was let go, Kitty leaped at the Sentinels and used her phasing powers to pass through the forcefield to rescue Steven. "Don't worry little guy, I got you!"

"Thanks Kitty, but I think we might be too late." Steven thanked sorrowfully, making his new friend look up to discover that the Sentinels were headed for a large airship above them. "Aw crud." Kitty smacked her face in irritation. "Guess I walked into that one."

"Now they got Kitty too!" Scott shouted. "Yeah, I think we got the picture!" Lapis said. "Can't any of you fly up and save them?!" Morph suggested. "You seem to love ignoring obvious  solutions!"

Lapis rocketed into the air as she was joined by Angel, Storm, Firestar and Human Torch with intents to rescue Steven & Kitty, but unfortunately they were quickly shot down by the Sentinels, still slowly making their way inside the Brotherhood's vessel and leaving the other heroes behind.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you Crystal Gems." Magneto declared. "You may think just saying sorry will instantly make everything better, but time will never make people forget." He surrounded his Brotherhood in his forcefield and lifted them all up to his ship. When the villains got inside, the ship sped away from the destroyed mansion.

"I can't believe we lost him, just like that." Pearl muttered while on the verge of tears. However, Reed was there to put a comforting rubber hand on her shoulder. "Don't fret, I think I might know where they're heading." Mister Fantastic declared. "They're working with one of our greatest enemies  known as Doctor Doom, which means their next destination will be his kingdom of Latveria."

"Latveria? I've read about that place." Connie replied. "Very good that you know about this place Fraulein Connie." Colossus complimented her. "But still, the combined forces of Doom and Magneto might need more than just our three teams here."

"I think our first step would be calling the Avengers." Peridot suggested.  "But they agreed to let us solve our own problems unless it was absolutely necessary we needed their help." Garnet responded. "Maybe at least a few of their reserve members would be useful, but not the whole team."

"I do know someone who can help us, but I don't think a few  of us are going to like it." Colossus announced, much to Wolverine's irritation. "You don't mean?" Logan growled. "Da, exactly." Piotr replied with a nod and then he turned to Connie. "Connie, the X-Men now have a very special job for you."

"Whatever it is Mr. Colossus, the Crystal Temps will do what we can!" Connie said exuberantly as Peridot, Lapis, Bismuth and Nephrite assembled behind her with goofy grins on their faces.

"I admire your optimism malen'kiy. And  please, call me Piotr." Colossus continued. "I cannot believe I am  saying this, but we need you to find for us," he ordered her. "Deadpool!"

Wolverine giving a loud aggravated moan followed this up.

--

Well, this sure took a while, hasn't it?

Bitch, a while doesn't even cut it!

Wait, Deadpool?! How did you get here?

I came here to yell at you for prolonging my long-awaited proper debut  for months now! Well I've had it up to here with your lazy-as-shit behavior! Next chapter, you better let me help you out or I'm taking  that "ANDY ONLY" folder on your laptop for myself!

You monster, I worked hard to build up that collection! Okay fine, you can help in parts. Deal?

Deal! And what are you still doing here? Get the hell outta here until next chapter, The Deadpool and Peridot Show! Damn, that chapter title really rolls off the tongue.

#steven universe #x-men #fantastic four #fanfiction #crossover #steven universe the fantastic mutants #steven quartz universe #garnet #amethyst #pearl #connie maheswaran #peridot #lapis lazuli #bismuth #nephrite #lion steven universe #wolverine #professor x #cyclops #jean grey #mister fantastic #magneto #mystique

[dancingsparks]

Don’t forget the fish

Also on Ao3

That was not good. Not good at all. Pansy was going to skin him alive and make him eat it. Or worse. Honestly, Draco should have expected something like that might happen. It was hardly the first time he forgot everything around him, caught up in some bizarre topic or other. That tended to happen rather often actually. Draco might say it came with the job, him being a journalist and all, but in reality he chose his work exactly because of this tendency. It allowed him to study anything he thought fascinating or curious and write enthusiastic articles about it. So while he was supposed to feed Pansy’s fish he had instead spent the last week in the library, buried in books and gathering facts on the mortuary cult of Ancient Egypt. Which was way more interesting than feeding some stupid fish anyway.  But Pansy had entrusted him with this responsibility, which really made the whole thing her fault if you think about it, and left for her holiday somewhere warmer and sunnier. And while he could try to distract her with delightful facts about soul and consciousness of the dead, Draco was pretty sure she would eventually notice her precious fish missing. And somehow he doubted Pansy would appreciate him shifting the blame to her.

He might be able to replace it if he had more time but Pansy was supposed to be back in only a few short hours, which left hardly any time at all to find a convincing substitute. It might be just enough time to flee the country though. But as soon as Pansy realised he’d killed her fish and cowardly fled she would undoubtedly hunt him down and it’d be worse than if he had confessed to it directly. Probably. After all, it wasn’t cold blooded murder but rather an obsession induced forgetfulness that caused the poor animals death. Draco wasn’t sure that distinction would make Pansy any less likely to murder him in return though. Maybe if he could start making amends already, to show his good will, she’d be inclined to let him redeem himself. Expressing his honest regret was surely more believable if he had flowers or something as well as his verbal assurances, wasn’t it? Even if it wasn’t, it could always serve as bribe.

Draco desperately wished for some inane social rule on what to do in this situation, some commonly accepted gesture saying “I’m deeply sorry I accidentally killed your fish. I promise I honestly didn’t mean to and will do everything in my power to make it up to you.” To his knowledge, which was quite extensive thanks to his mother insisting on its utmost importance, there was no such gesture. Ridiculous really, there were social norms for the weirdest things but of course nothing you would actually ever need. He supposed he could always ask his mother for advice, she would probably know exactly how to handle the situation. She would also be very disappointed, way too amused and just a little bit smug about it. No, better to leave his mother out of it completely. She would never let him forget it and Draco was reasonably sure Pansy would see to that already. The only thing Draco could think of presently were flowers, which was rather standard really but would have to do. Pansy would certainly be able to think of more he could do to make amends, just a subtle reminder to that one time he killed her fish and how he kind of owed her. He would have to do whatever she wanted for the next month at least.

***

The flower shop seemed to belong in one of these old paintings of sunny market places with its buckets filled with various flowers shaded by a striped marquise. Honestly how he never noticed it before was a mystery to Draco, seeing as it wasn’t far from his flat at all. Entering the shop he was immediately engulfed in that special smell that seemed reserved for flower shops only, exhilaratingly alive while simultaneously calming. Looking around he saw pots with more flowers, ready-made bouquets and other floral arrangements. It was absolutely beautiful. He was startled out of his reverie by someone who must be the shop assistant greeting him. The unexpected noise made Draco flinch as he stumbled around, causing the bloke to laugh. Wanker. Admittedly, he was an extremely good looking wanker, so maybe Draco could forgive him this once. The most noticeable thing about him were his strikingly green eyes, full of life and humour. It shouldn’t be allowed to have such expressive eyes, brimming with emotion. They should also be hidden by the glasses he wore but they only served to make them stand out more. Same with the black mess of hair. What could easily resemble a bird’s nest instead gave him a just shagged look. The look was continued with a pair of well-worn jeans that sat dangerously low on his hips. Draco quickly looked up again, trying hard not to blush. Judging by the smug smile though he was not very successful with that. Deciding to pretend he wasn’t horribly flustered he quickly pulled himself together, donning what Pansy liked to call his Malfoy-mask and moved to stand in front of the incredibly handsome man.

“I accidentally killed a fish and am now in desperate need of some flowers to stop Pansy from murdering me.” The smug grin fell from the man’s face and he was instead frowning in confusion. Irritatingly, he didn’t look any less attractive for it. Or maybe it was a good thing he didn’t. Draco certainly wasn’t going to complain. He didn’t understand the reason for the confusion though; he thought he was being perfectly clear.  He had killed a fish and therefore had to earn forgiveness to prevent his impending murder, what was not to understand there? Not allowing his own internal frown to show on his face he continued smiling patiently and watched as his request was slowly processed.

“I’m sorry, you did what?” Oh, Draco had been sure he had finally overcome whatever caused the problem but apparently not. The bloke looked incredulous and terribly amused. Draco frowned at him. “I literally just said that, I killed a fish. Is that somehow difficult to understand?” Okay, so maybe he was slightly defensive and just snapped at the man for a justified question. He supposed he had given very little information.

“Oh of course, my apologies. Just right over there is where we keep our Sorry I killed your fish assortment. Do you want a Please don’t murder me card or balloon?” Draco couldn’t help it, he laughed. Evidently the bloke wasn’t stupid after all and rather funny. Maybe the Malfoy-mask wasn’t the right approach here.

“Let’s try that again. Hi I’m Draco, pleased to meet you. I was recently entrusted with the welfare of a fish by my dear Pansy who is just now coming back from her holiday. Unfortunately I got lost in the Egyptian realm of the dead and consequently forgot all about the fish in my care. Which cost the fish his life and maybe mine as well if I can’t convince Pansy to refrain from murder and instead make me pay until the natural end of my life, trying in vain to gain forgiveness. I had hoped that a carefully chosen bouquet of flowers might reflect these intentions and thereby save my life.” He looked confused again and for a short moment Draco debated whether he should just leave and buy flowers somewhere else, when he broke out in a loud laugh. He had a really nice laugh. Draco decided to stay. For totally unrelated reasons of course. He simply had no time to search for another flower shop, convey the dire situation and be back before Pansy arrives, that’s all.

“It’s very nice to meet you Draco, I’m Harry. I am deeply distraught to hear how very near your death is and offer my services to help you avert that horrible fate.” Then he went down on one knee, pretending to be a knight of old, offering his sword in service.  Draco wasn’t sure if he was mocking his melodramatic little speech until Harry looked up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief and failing to hide a smirk. It seemed Harry had a flair for the dramatic too. Thus encouraged Draco drew himself up to his full height and tried to look imperious. “I gladly accept your service, you may rise” With Harry once again standing (was he closer than before or did he imagine that?) Draco actually had to tilt his head up a little to look into his eyes. They silently stared at each other for a moment until they were suddenly laughing again.

The following silence had the potential to become very awkward, very fast and Draco was searching for something to say when Harry cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair. He seemed rather flustered. “Well now that I pledged my soul to you-” here he smiled at Draco, not flustered anymore but surprisingly warm and earnest -“did you have anything specific in mind?”

“I haven’t really thought about that actually. Purple hyacinths classically express sorrow and apologies and they are quite beautiful, so these. Geranium means stupidity or folly; that might fit as well. Maybe bluebells too, they stand for humility. Hydrangea can mean thank you for understanding, if paired right. Daffodil might represent forgiveness. Why are you looking at me like that?” Harry stared at him, astonished and apparently just listening to Draco naming flowers.

That shook him out of his daze. “Nothing, just -” and he ran his fingers through his hair again, which explained the glorious mess it was in –“I wasn’t aware you knew what all those flowers meant, is all.” There was that smile again, that bright, honest smile making Draco feel warm and wanting to smile back.

“Oh, well. I don’t know all that many really. Just the major ones, I’m sure you know more than me, part of the job and all that.” Why did he have to be blushing again? It wasn’t even a real compliment, no need to blush.

“In fact, I know absolutely nothing about the Secret Languages of Flowers. And I don’t actually work here. I mean, I kind of do, but not on a permanent basis? The shop belongs to my grandma, you see. She has always wanted one, since she was a little girl she says, so when she came from India with grandpa he bought her this shop. Anyway, bottom line is, this shop here is her dream come true and she wouldn’t trust anyone not-family with it. So whenever they go on holyday or something I mind the shop for her.”

“Wait, are you saying you don’t know what a single flower in here means?” That couldn’t possibly be what Harry meant, could it? Wasn’t one required to know that when one worked in a flower shop, on a permanent basis or not? Even more importantly though, flowers are beautiful and a whole language consisting of them was simply marvellous.

“Not quite. Hyacinths mean sorrow, geranium folly and daffodil forgiveness. I did listen to you, you know.” Predictably, that made Draco’s heart beat faster than the situation warranted. It seemed even small smiles of Harry had the power to render him completely useless. He had to sternly remind himself of the marvel the Language of Flowers was and how Harry had to discover it as well. And maybe, how very much Draco would like to be the one to introduce him to it.

“That is unacceptable. I can’t allow you to live in ignorance any longer. I will have to teach you, anything else isn’t fair to the flowers.” Draco was proud to say that he sounded very determined und self-assured. He felt neither of these things. Quite the opposite, he was scared Harry wouldn’t want him to; that he would make him pay for his flowers and throw him out. But Harry smiled and this particular smile relieved all his fears.

“I would like that very much, Draco”

#my writing #drarry #Harry Potter #fluff #flower shop #flower #language of flowers

[canimal]

I wanted to write a time travel fanfic and about Evan Rosier/Hermione Granger as a main pairing but... I'm stuck. I didn't choose the most redeemable character (Rosier was killed by Moody after a magical fight) and it's complicated bc how Hermione can fall in love with someone like Evan no matter how charming and smart he is ? How did you deal with that (Hermione, Death Eater and their ideology) ? All I can see is something like Jaime/Brienne (GoT) and a very slow burn. But it still feel wrong.

(Please bear with me as this is going to be a super long response.  I’ll put it underneath the cut so those who want to read it can read it and those who want to scroll past it can do so quickly.)

To be perfectly honest, if a story feels “wrong”, you shouldn’t be writing it.  Trying to force something that you don’t feel comfortable writing and don't fully believe in will not only make for a story that feels forced and unnatural to the reader, but it will also become a story that you will not enjoy writing.  (Never forget that this is our hobby, not our job.). Eventually, you would likely hit a wall where the story was unable to progress further and you’d be stuck.  Lots of writers try to write a story with certain elements or pairings that are “trendy” and end up stuck because they forced a story.  Writing should flow fairly smoothly.  I’m not saying that writers should never stumble or feel blocked, but I am saying that if you’re not allowing a story to remain organic and grow naturally, you will find you quality and likely your own enthusiasm and enjoyment in writing the story suffer.

Why do you want to write a story with Evan Rosier?  Is it because you find his character fascinating or you want to uncover more about him?  Or is it because he’s not a character that’s written about a lot and you’re hoping to stand out in a growing sea of Death Eater stories?  

I promise I’m not trying to be rude or condescending, even if it seems like it.  This is an honest question.  If your answer is on the first couple, awesome.  Go for it.  

But, if you’re hoping writing about him will get you instant recognition and a large number of followers on your story immediately, I’m sorry to tell you that that probably won’t happen.  Most readers don’t want to take a chance on unknown characters.  They just don’t.  I’ve mentioned this many times, but when I first started writing Thorfinn Rowle as more than just a one-dimensional bad guy in the background in first, The Dark Mage’s Captive and then Parolee and His Princess, I frequently got PMs and reviews asking me who the fuck Thorfinn Rowle even was and that I might actually get more people to read my stories if I didn’t write such weird pairings. 🙄 (Let’s not forget the troll who commented “This should’ve been a Dramione” on literally every single chapter at least twice.  Sigh.) So it’s both amusing and incredibly frustrating to have readers in the fandom announce that Thormione is their OTP when most of them wouldn’t have given my stories the time of day when I was writing them and they were the ONLY Thorfinn stories in existence on FFN for certain and probably everywhere else.  Because so few people were interested in reading a story with Thorfinn as the main love interest when I was actually writing Parolee and His Princess, if I was only writing the story in an attempt to stand out and not because that was the story I wanted to write, then I likely would’ve gotten frustrated and quit before I ever finished.

So, if you’re serious about writing an Evan Rosier story because it’s what you want to write, I wish you the best of luck.  It’s always challenging to write a character with little to no background info in canon.  Challenging can also be a great deal of fun.  If we never challenge ourselves as writers, we won’t ever get any better.  Writers must be willing to learn and try new things if they want to get better.  Practice is crucial.  Too many writers (professional and otherwise) get to a place where they don’t believe they need to improve and their writing gets stagnant.  It’s sad.

Now to your question about how or why Hermione might fall in love with someone with such a different and dangerous ideology... there are many different ways this can be tackled.  I must stress thought that you make sure the decision you make makes sense within your story.  Don’t try to force something.  Let it grow naturally.

First of all, I don’t believe anyone is unredeemable.  (Or irredeemable. Same meaning, right?) Perhaps it’s because of my own personal faith and religious beliefs, but I don’t believe anyone is wholly evil or wholly good.  Yes, even in this hyper-partisan world we now live in, I don’t believe that anyone (even those who might disagree with me) are pure evil.  This has actually gotten me a lot of grief from angry trolls and super sensitive former readers alike.  I’ve been accused of being an “apologist” for all manner of depravity including, but not limited to, rape, violence, murder, racism, all the bad things ever, etc. simply because I believe that no is unredeemable... irredeemable.  Ugh, whatever.  You know what I mean.  

Everyone has good qualities in them, even those who appear to be nothing but evil.  Far fewer good qualities than most certainly, but still there.  I’m also a firm believer that people, even really bad people, can have an existential change of heart and want to be a better person.  Many just have to be given the opportunity to change.  Of course, I don’t believe that they shouldn’t be punished for their crimes or they should be excused just because there’s something good about them.  I’ll never understand why I’ve been accused of being an apologist.  🙄 Some people are truly exhausting.

For every story about a Death Eater falling for Hermione, there’s a different explanation.  If you’ve ready any, you’re probably already familiar.  Because I try very hard to make every story I write unique from the others I’ve already written, I’ve mixed it up.  Antonin only joined for knowledge and power without realizing until too late what was really happening.  Rodolphus was pressured by his wife in one and his grief and depression made him fall further in than he meant to.  Sometimes the Death Eater was pressured by family to follow in their footsteps; others by their peers.  There are countless reasons why people join these kinds of groups.  Disillusionment, looking for a place to belong... you really could make it anything.  I’ve known people who were drawn in and brainwashed by cults because they were desperate for purpose, for belonging, for a feeling like their life actually mattered.  It can be super easy to get sucked into a cult and takes years to get out... if you can.

JKR wrote the Death Eaters as being simply bad for bad’s sake.  They’re almost all one-dimensional.  No person is actually one-dimensional.  They have hopes and fears and dreams just like everyone else.  Maybe they thought they believed in the sort of pro-Pureblood world that Voldemort imagined, but once they got in they were in over their head.  Reality rarely meets our expectations.  People grow and change.  Even my own beliefs have changed as I’ve grown older.  What I used to think was important no longer is and there are issues I have done a complete 180 on as I’ve grown up and begun to live in what I call “grownup reality”.  (Life is much different for me than it was even when I was just in my twenties and how I see the world has changed drastically in some instances.). So if experience and time has been able to shape and change my beliefs and even my values to a minute degree, why could the same not be said for a Death Eater who discovered all was not as it seemed when they were recruited?

It’s also important to remember that no one thinks, acts, or believes like everyone in their set group one hundred percent of the time.  Each individual has their own thoughts and beliefs.  Maybe they joined because they hated Muggles, but then they realized they were wrong to do so.  Maybe their family pressured them to join but they didn’t agree.  Maybe they were afraid to die so they joined.  I know a lovely man whose father died in World War II fighting for the Nazis - not because he was an admirer of Hitler and believed in everything dreadful and evil the Nazi party believed in.  No, his father was conscripted into the German Army and fought because he would’ve been arrested in the best case scenario and executed in the worst.  His young wife and their two small children could’ve also been in danger had he refused.  It’s a terribly sad story.  And hardly the only one.  That’s just one example.  History has countless other incidents all over the world when scared people fought and fell in line with a terrible leader because they had no other choice. Or at least it seemed like they had no other choice.  Not everyone is strong and brave enough to stand up to injustice and evil when their lives are on the lines.  Humans by our very nature can be quite cowardly at times.

It’s possible that a person who has done evil deeds or believed just absolutely atrocious things could want to change and be a better person.  Though it wouldn’t be easy, someone like Hermione could choose to forgive them for their past.  Especially if they’re truly remorseful.

Of course, it’s also unfortunately true that there are sometimes relationships that are just absolutely toxic.  Love can make idiots of us all.  How many women (and men to an extent though not nearly as often) see the potential in a man and want to change them into something good and perfect?  It happens so often it’s a cliche.  Woman falls in love with bad boy.  Wants to change him.  Stays with him with hopes and dreams that he’ll stop being so awful.  Is disappointed over and over again.  Have you ever known someone who fell in love with a truly terrible person and even though their relationship wasn’t healthy whatsoever never seemed to quit them?  Kept going back for more even when everyone told them it was a terrible idea?  I’m pretty sure you have.  You might’ve even been in one of those relationships yourself.  I know I was.  No, he might not have been a murderous minion of a madman, but he certainly had his terrible qualities that I thought I could help him get past.  Tale as old as time.  

I could go on and on and on about reasons why Hermione might fall in love with a completely unsuitable man who might even wish her dead, but there’s no reason.  It could be for a thousand reasons.  And don’t forget, Hermione isn’t exactly some innocent paragon of virtue herself.  She’s pretty dark even in canon.  Trapping a lady in a jar?  Cursing a girl’s face possibly permanently?  Leading another witch into a forest knowing there are centaurs in there who are dangerous?  And those are just the things that unobservant Harry noticed!  Who knows what she was doing off-stage?  She has her own darkness and her own demons to fight.  She’s not perfect nor is she some pure angelic creature who only uses light magic for good.  Nah, she’s pretty twisted at times. (On a side note - Please don’t try to write her as being all-powerful, perfect, and never do anything the least bit bad.  That’s not her character at all.  It bothers me to see her written as some sort of pearl-clutching virgin who has never done anything bad in her entire life.  That’s NOT the Hermione I read in the books.)

You just have to find the right motivation in your own story.  If you’re not forcing the story and allowing it to develop naturally, you’ll figure it out.  If you’re forcing it, I’m afraid you’re going to stay stuck.

I hope this can be so some help!  Sorry I’m rambled on and on and on.

[thatuncoolasianpotato]

sunsets & stars ~ Plance

Hiya :))

Have this thing I wrote pre-season 7, but was too cowardly to share until now—

.☆.

Pidge inhaled the buttery scent of popcorn as she quickly took it out from the microwave, eager to get this movie/game night started.

She grabbed a handful of popcorn and quickly shoved it into her mouth. God, how she missed Earth food. Despite Hunk’s many attempts to make alien cuisine palatable, nothing beat old fashioned Earth junk food.

“Hey, Lance? The popcorn’s ready!” She called out after thoroughly enjoying her handful of popcorn. “Where are you?” She called out again as she reached the living room. She set down the popcorn on the table and quickly observed the set up she and Lance had prepared earlier that day.

The TV was surrounded by two tall stacks of CDs, one stack contained a myriad of video games while the other stack was composed of numerous movies. The couch called out to her invitingly, full of fluffy pillows and stuffed toys that Lance swore belonged to his niece and nephew.

She couldn’t wait to spend the entirety of the evening sitting there, munching on popcorn while watching a thrilling movie or beating Lance at one of the games they had.

“Lance?!” She called out a third time as she grew impatient from Lance’s lack of response. “Come on, Lance! We already lost Hunk to Shay after he promised to take her a tour around town; don’t tell me you’re bailing out on hang out night, too.”

She said in what she hoped was a joking tone.

Truthfully, it had only been a few days since they had been able to return to Earth and Pidge was really itching for some normalcy. Though she wasn’t nearly as homesick as Lance was, she couldn’t deny the appeal of being back on Earth again; away from all the stressful and rather life threatening missions. She did admit that being in space had its perks, especially in terms of all the advanced technology, but returning to Earth was a fresh breath of air she didn’t mind taking.

After having stopped over at her own home, having the complete family dinner she had dreamed of for years since her father and brother’s disappearance, and enduring a night long scolding from her motherabout their misadventures in space, Pidge had accepted the Galaxy Garrison Trio hang out night Lance had proposed. Although she did love the other paladins and Coran and Allura, she had to admit that just having the three of them together like the days before Voltron was a pleasing idea.

Unfortunately, the trio was reduced to just a duo after Hunk decided to spend more time with Shay. Pidge wasn’t necessarily complaining though, at the very least, it meant more popcorn for her, plus she knew how much Shay meant to Hunk. He wanted to spend every available moment with her and show her around his planet, and he wanted to show around as much as possible given their limited time on Earth.

Similarly, Pidge wanted to spend her limited time on Earth to the fullest as well. Although her definition of spending her time to the fullest was stuffing herself with popcorn and possibly damaging her eyes with too much exposure to a TV screen, not waiting around for Lance to show up.

“Lance, I swear, I’ll start without you! We only have about a week before we have to get back to space and I’m not waiting around anymore. I’m going to start playing your favorite movie!” She threatened, hoping this would finally get Lance attention.

“I’m up here, Pidge!” Lance’s muffled voice came from above.

Pidge looked up at the ceiling, confused. “Are you in the attic?”

“Nope, I’m on the roof.” He called back casually.

“On the roof?�� She repeated as she walked outside in disbelief. She looked up and, sure enough, Lance McClain was sitting on top of his house; his hair whipping in the wind and his feet dangling off the edge. He saw her and gave a little wave and a dazzling smile as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

“Need a hand getting up here?” He asked as he slowly stood up.

Instead of responding, Pidge simply went back inside the house.

Why the heck is he on the roof instead of on the couch cuddling one of those stuffed bears that were most probably his? She wondered to herself as she found her way to the attic. It was dusty and full of old boxes that could have been rummaged through to find some kind of blackmail material on Lance, but Pidge didn’t have enough time for that right now. She marched towards the window, carefully avoiding all the McClain mementos in her path. She opened the window, climbed out of it, grabbed hold onto the roof’s ledge, and swiftly pulled herself onto the roof and in front of Lance.

His lazy smile widened as he clapped his hands.

“Impressive, Pidge.” He complimented. “Although, you could’ve ended with a bow or something to add some more razzle dazzle to the whole thing.”

Pidge wanted to hit Lance in the arm but restrained herself. “What are you doing up here, Lance?”

He looked away from her and she followed his gaze towards the sky. “I just wanted to see the sunset and the beach and, hopefully, the stars before we locked ourselves inside for hang out night.”

Pidge surveyed the view they had from their vantage point. Lance’s house was right above a beach and their roof provided quite a good view of it.

She looked out and saw the various blues of the sea, going from clear to aquamarine to a dark blue the deeper the water got. Her face was greeted by the sea breeze and the salty scent of the sea tingled her nose.

The sky was a beautifully blended painting full of red, orange, and yellow hues as the sun started to sink.

However, when Pidge’s eyes wandered over to Lance’s face, she knew no matter how pretty the world seemed to her, it looked it even more dazzling in Lance’s eyes.

She had never been as in touch with nature as he had been and he’d been talking about the sun and the beach by his house for ages ever since they left Earth.

That was probably the reason why she had stayed quiet and allowed herself to look at the sky with him. He had been dreaming about seeing these things again for the longest time. Just like she had been dreaming of their hang out night for quite a while after finding out they would be able to return to Earth for a limited time. It was only when the sky started to darken and the stars stared to shine did she attempt to break their serene silence.

She could hardly believe that Lance hadn’t filled the air with jokes or puns during all that time and that she was the one finally speaking up when she asked, “Okay, I get the beach and the sunset, but why the stars? Haven’t we seen them up close hundreds of times while we were in space?”

Lance turned his gaze from the sky towards Pidge.

“When we were younger, my siblings and I used to come up here and look at the stars all the time. I’d tell them how I’d become a pilot who could fly so close to the sky that I’d be able to reach out and touch them.” Lance let out a little laugh.

“In a way, those dreams came true when I became a paladin, but I never had enough time to really cherish how amazing they looked when an entire alien race was trying to blast me into bits, you know?”

A long silence ensued, and then “Pidge?” Lance inquired when the girl kept staring at him.

But Pidge was in an entirely different place and time; taken by a distant memory.

Matt and Katie Holt, up on a rooftop, where they were on top of the world. Where they could talk of dreams of discovering planets unknown and innovating technology to higher advancements without the judging voice of the rest of the world to pull them down. Whenever she was up there with her brother, all the stars up above them felt like they were close enough to collect and study. She loved looking at them with her brother, loved talking the night away.

“Pidge, are you okay?” Lance asked again. “Your brain didn’t get messed up from being away from Earth, right?”

“I get you.” She finally muttered.

“Wh—what?” Lance asked in surprise.

“Appreciating the stars with your siblings? Feeling as if you could conquer the world with them?” She said as she adjusted her glasses. “I get that.”

Lance’s once concerned expression morphed into one of excitement; his eyes shined so brightly that they seemed to contain the stars that they had just been looking at.

“Uh, did you and Matt used to do the same thing too?”

Any thoughts of suggesting that they come down to start their night instantly disappeared as the two started to talk about their childhoods with their siblings.

They stayed up there until they felt a light drizzle shower them. As they made their way down to start their hang out night, Pidge took one last look at the sky. She smiled. Lance did have a point; the sky, with its brightly shining stars, were beautiful and did deserve to be cherished.

.☆.

“Oh, come on!” Lance complained for the fifth time as he threw his controller in frustration. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Pidge let out a laugh. Lance smiled. With her laugh, the blanket she was bundled in, and the hot cocoa that sat right next to her, she just exuded warmth that seemed to combat that chilly wind that came with the rain.

“Well, that makes it five points for me and a whopping number of one point for you!” She exclaimed in victory. “Just face it, Lance, I’m better at video games than you.”

“Hey, the first game we played, you totally distracted me so that you could win!” Lance brought up defensively.

“Yeah, right. Just admit that I am the total best and stop being a sore loser, Lance.” She said as she threw a stuffed dolphin at him.

“Hey!” Lance let out as he quickly caught the dolphin. He gave her a confused look.

“Take your anger out on the dolphin instead of your controller, Lance, you don’t wanna risk breaking it.” She said in response.

“Of course you’d be more concerned about a damaged controller than you trying to damage my pride.” Lance grumbled.

Pidge let out another laugh. “Okay, obviously I’m never gonna hear the end of your excuses, so how about we switch over to movies?”

“Fine.” Lance replied. “As long I get to pick the movie.”

Pidge took a sip of her hot cocoa as she feinted thinking about it deeply. “Okay, but no cheesy rom-coms. I don’t want you picking up anymore lame pick up lines to try on Allura.”

Lance put in the effort of appearing overly offended. “All of my amazing pick up lines come from my equally amazing brain, for you information. But sure, no rom-coms.”

Pidge smiled widely as she quickly grabbed the popcorn she had made about an hour ago, not seeming to care that it had long since cooled.

Lance gave an equally wide smile as he stood up to select a movie. As he shuffled through the plethora of CDs his household had to offer, he silently thought of how thankful he was that Hunk was too busy to come to their hang out night.

.☆.

Author’s note:

Halloooo~

So uh, this is the first time I’m doing something like this so I’m very nervous ahahaha

Anyways,,, I occasionally write, but since my self esteem is almost always at least six feet underground, I’m never confident enough to share it

But I was looking at this old thing I wrote and thought I might post it ? I think this is the first Plance related thing I’ve ever written !! Pretty sure this was pre-season 7 when I was very optimistic and hoping for lots of rest and happy endings for the paladins—

And looking through all the Plance fanfic ideas I have, this is the fluffiest one I have and I think given how season 8 bummed out a big part of the fandom, the rest of my angsty ideas wouldn’t be the best right now

Okay so this is getting too long and rambly I need to stop alksjfhfjdksks

Hope you enjoyed it though :))

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #vld #voltron #pidge vld #vld pidge #lance vld #vld lance #potato writes #uncool writing #i tried #i am actully so scared wth