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sondepoch · 4 years

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Hogwarts, Basically (Solomon x Reader)

When you finally leave RAD, the last thing you expect is to be whisked off by Solomon to a human school of magic. What you expect even less is for the white-haired mage to become your dormmate, and to be forced into a life of spells, potions, and wizardry. But what you expect the least is to find yourself pining after the sorcerer, reduced to something akin to a lost puppy, staring at him in longing at every chance you get. Or, correction: What you expect the least is for Solomon to feel the same way.

~Oneshot

MASTERLIST

At the very beginning, Lucifer warned you: stay away from Solomon. Never trust the shady sorcerer. Keep your distance at all costs, and do not interact.

But you never listened.

No, you were convinced that you knew better. That the white-haired mage had good inside him, that he wasn't a demon in human skin with an agenda more suspicious than Diavolo's own. For an entire year, you believed in him, and the two of you stayed by each other's side the whole time you were in the Devildom.

You have so many good memories with him.

The two of you pulled pranks on Asmo. Downloaded TikTok onto Lucifer's phone. Ran a scam where you auctioned your souls off on D-Bay and kept the Grimm. You egged the student council hall on April Fool's day, and you even shared your food with the guy.

So many good memories.

So many tainted memories.

If you had known where it would land you, you never would have allowed yourself to get close to him.

"I fucking hate you," You grumble, darting forward and flopping onto your bed the second Solomon opens the door, groaning as you burrow your head in your pillow. It reeks of magic, much like everything else in this godforsaken place, and you're entirely sick of it, but you're too exhausted to even care right now. "I can't believe you fucking did this to me."

"Oh please, you're acting like this is the end of the world." The mage closes the door, and you hear the sound of shuffling as he puts his books away for the day, taking off his school jacket. His actions are innocent enough, but you're certain he finds amusement in your state, and the very thought fills your lungs with even more resentment toward your current situation.

"It is the end of the world," You grumble in protest. "I'm supposed to be relaxing right now. Playing video games with friends. Hanging out at a club. Wasting time on twitter, sending celebrities stupid pickup lines. Not doing more schoolwork at another fucking school of magic."

Solomon laughs lightly, a warm sound that you wish you didn't like.

"Technically, RAD wasn't a school of magic," He tells you.

"Oh, who fucking cares? This school is! You've kidnapped me and dumped me in Hogwarts, basically, and I hate Harry Potter!"

"How unfortunate for you, then." Solomon grins boyishly as he rolls your body over, eyes twinkling with mirth as he gazes at your utterly unamused expression. "Relax. You'll begin to enjoy your time here, once you get used to the course load. I dare say you might even find it fun to learn about our magical heritage."

"When pigs fly, Solomon," You quip back, opting to ignore the fact that your potions teacher told you that your end-of-year project would actually be to create a solution potent enough to give farm animals wings.

You sigh grumpily and roll over, closing your eyes and relaxing quietly as the sorcerer pats your shoulder, quietly telling you not to nap for too long, so you have time to finish your homework later.

You ignore him, for the most part.

I'll never enjoy it here, you convince yourself. As much as you love spending time with Solomon, you don't have it in you to completely change your life and begin studying magic, irregardless of how much the teachers at this school want you to. Ignoring the sound of scribbles as Solomon begins his own homework, you tell yourself that the mage is wrong, that all you need to do is flunk out during this first semester and then you'll be returned to your normal life in your home country.

What you don't expect is for Solomon's words to be proven true.

One week into your time at the academy, you've just begun to grow used to the course load. The students at school stop raising eyebrows at your face, and as you begin to grow accustomed to the school, it becomes accustomed to you.

Two weeks in, you've already fallen into a loose rhythm.

By three weeks, you've developed what a less apprehensive person would call "friends," and by four weeks, you're genuinely giving your studies your all, learning spellwork and enchantments with an almost-passionate fervor.

By the time the month has ended, you've actually forgotten your plans to flunk out.

And though you're surprised by your change of heart, the never-fading smile on Solomon's face makes you suspect that he predicted this from the start.

You glance up at him from your textbook, momentarily halting your note-taking to study the way the enthralled light never fades from his eyes, even as he glances from book to book while continuing to draw a summoning circle for his demonology class, somehow looking pleased even as he cross-checks his image.

You groan.

You've found yourself glancing up at Solomon more and more often in these past few days, distracted from your own studying by the way his hair falls over his forehead, or the way his chest sometimes peeks through when he undoes the top buttons of his dress shirt, or the way he sometimes bites his lip cutely when going over a particularly difficult passage. Hell, you once spent five minutes staring at the sorcerer's hands, because they looked oh-so-soft as he took notes on the book he was deciphering.

The first few times, you convinced yourself that it was merely because of how eye-catching he was. And that was a fair enough excuse. After all, the colors of this academy are black and gold—Solomon's pale skin stands out against the dark fabrics of the uniform and the even-darker furnishings of your dorm room.

But after catching yourself gazing wistfully at his lips a few too many times, you were forced to confront the truth.

You have a crush on the aggravating, annoying, sassy, difficult, handsome, cute mage.

But that's not even the worst part.

You think he knows.

A warmth creeps onto your cheeks the moment you begin to think about all the instances where Solomon has caught you staring at him over these past few weeks. There are almost too many examples. Early in the morning, when his hair is all messed up. Right after breakfast, when his lips have changed color to whatever potion he drank. On your way back from school, when you walk back to the dorm together. During homework sessions like these. Right after he steps out of the shower—oh, he's caught you gawking at him far too many times after returning from the shower. (You tried to play it off by saying that you were merely studying his pact marks, but you know he knows the truth. His abs are loosely defined, but they're there, and you want to lick them so bad it hurts.)

"MC?" Solomon calls, and you blink.

Fuck, you think, suddenly realizing that you were staring at him while you daydreamed about him.

Add one more to the count, you think with an internal groan, silently wondering how many more times the sorcerer will catch you staring at him.

"You good?" He questions, and you can see the smirk he's trying so hard to fight off his face.

"Uh—I'm going to the library," You blurt, opting to avoid the sorcerer's gaze as you grab your jacket, looping your arms through it with deftness despite how utterly befuddled your thoughts are as you escape the room. You don't have your books with you, or your library card for that matter, but anything is better than responding to that all-too-playful question.

You flee before Solomon has a chance to say anything else, all but running to the stairs and sauntering on down until you're outside the dorm building, the air crisp in your lungs as you inhale sharply.

I'm such a mess, you think to yourself, the lingering warmth on your cheeks beginning to cool as you fold your arms and walk in the direction of what you hope is the library. A few people crossing you nod their heads in greeting, quick smiles thrown your way as you return them, but no one stops to converse with you, and you're left alone to debate your affections for the sorcerer.

You sigh, trying to sort out your thoughts.

Solomon must harbor some affection for you, you know that.

After all, he's spent far too many nights explaining foreign concepts to you, calmly navigating you through the waters of magic where he could have simply directed you to a tutoring board.

Moreover, you've seen how he behaves with other students here at the academy. No matter who has come to your dorm, be two kids it for a group project or a single friend in preparation to summon a demon they're interested in, there's a barrier of cool distance Solomon maintains with everyone else, one that simply seems to disappear around you.

Distance, you think, recalling the awkward way Solomon avoids physical contact with others, using sorcery to do things as simple as handing a glass of water to a guest. With you, though, you've both only grown closer, once-awkward pats now having turned into comfortably leaning on each other whenever one of you is tired. Last week, Solomon even ran a hand through your hair, and though he blinked afterward in surprise, as if he hadn't meant to do that, there was an undeniable feeling of closeness to his actions, something which others would hardly expect to see from him.

Another sound of frustration spills from your lips, aggravated at your situation with the sorcerer. The two of you are closer than others, but still not close. More than casual friends, but hardly intimate. Beyond nothing, but not yet something.

You kick a rock lying on the ground, watching it sail into the grass as you brood over the fact that Solomon is more confusing than the history of magic.

And you might brood some more, maybe even consider confessing your affections to the sorcerer in question, if not for the fact that you randomly look up and the building that greets you is not the school library.

You blink, abruptly turning around to check the way you came, but it is also a road that you've never seen, never heard of, and certainly have never navigated.

"Fuck," You mutter to yourself, realizing your predicament.

You're lost.

***

In your dorm room, Solomon is growing increasingly frustrated over the summoning circle he's been instructed to sketch. His fingers are supposed to be tracing the emblem of Mephistopheles, but it's so similar to Barbatos (and he's so used to drawing the summoning circle of Barbatos) that he keeps messing up at the end and has to restart all over again.

Or at least, that's what he tells himself is the cause for his repeated failures.

Solomon is hardly dumb—he's well aware that the reason for his utter inability to focus right now is caused solely and explicitly by you, and that this would not be happening if he weren't worried for your whereabouts.

But at the same time, there's nothing he can do about the fact that you're already gone, or the fact that he just messed up again on this seal.

A frustrated groan leaves Solomon's lips, inwardly cursing himself for driving you from the room.

After all, he really needs to get this assignment done.

Then again, it's not like he would be doing much of a better job if you were still here.

The sorcerer can never find himself fully able to focus around you, eyes always drawn upward to study you. It feels like if he casts his gaze away for too long, he'll miss something—the way your eyes light up every time you understand a concept, the way your eyebrows furrow every time you don't. It's the little things he tries to pay attention to: how you silently nod your head at the end of every sentence you read to the way you aimlessly fumble with your blanket whenever an assignment bores you.

Solomon is positive that he's successfully picked up on every one of your little quirks, by now. At a single glance, he can tell what subject you're studying by the way you're sprawled out over your bed, and if he looks a little longer, he might even be able to tell how good a mood you're in based on the way you tap your pen against your notebook. Give him enough time, and he's even picked apart how the way you kick your feet in the air relates to how nervous you are for an upcoming quiz.

Yeah, Solomon really hasn't been doing too well in his school, with how much he's been focusing on you.

Of course, you don't notice it at all. No, Solomon cast a spell long ago which makes it look like he's studying diligently even as he gazes absentmindedly at the way you run a hand through your hair when you're tired, making it incredibly easy for him to catch all the little glances you've been giving him these past few weeks.

Does he feel guilty for watching you watch him?

Absolutely.

Does he think about removing the spell?

All the time.

Does that mean he will change anything?

Most definitely not.

The look of shock on your face every time he casually "catches" you staring at him is too attractive for him to stop, especially since the immediate state of fluster it induces is so amusing to watch.

But that doesn't stop him from regretting calling you out just now, because while he's pretty sure you know your way around the campus, he's also well-aware that whenever your head is in a jumble, you lose all sense of awareness.

I'll wait, he decides, rapping his pencil against the outline of the sketch he's working on, reaching for a ruler. I need to finish this assignment, anyway.

But then ten minutes turns into twenty, and by the time Solomon is done with his assignment, the hour is over, signaled by the four loud rings from the grandfather clock on the ground floor.

The mage glances at your empty bed, set just six feet across from his, and he frowns.

I'll wait a little longer.

But one hour stretches into two, and two stretches into three, and nearly four hours have passed by the time the sun sets, and Solomon is pacing back and forth in the dorm, glancing at the door every time he turns, in hopes that you'll walk through it.

Fucking hell, he thinks to himself, grabbing his academy jacket as he flips his book closed and shoves it onto his desk.

He isn't going to torture himself any longer like this.

Hell, he'll confess if that's what it takes to bring you back, because right now, he's going crazy cooped up in this room and there's only one thing that's going to calm him down.

Shoving his keys into his pocket, he yanks the door open, all final hopes of you standing on the other sides crushed when he sees the almost-empty hall, and the questioning eyes of students wondering why he's heading out when it's so close to curfew.

He huffs in exasperation, slamming the door shut as he walks out, long legs carrying him in the direction of where he suspects you got lost.

He's really fallen for such a troublesome person.

Then again, Solomon adores even that part of you.

***

You've never been so relieved to see a clump of white hair.

Or, well, maybe you have—you know, given that Mammon has saved you more than a few times from Lucifer's wrath—but you've never been so relieved in the human world to see a familiar, fluffy clump of white hair.

"Solomon!" You exclaim the moment you set your eyes on the mage, sprinting forward to capture him in a tight hug. He stiffens at the contact, and you inwardly note that this is probably the closest you've ever physically been to him, but you don't care. Maybe it's the instincts that were drilled into you after being surrounded by demons for a whole year, but you had seriously begun to think that you would die out here.

"How on earth did you get here?" Solomon asks incredulously, gazing at your surroundings.

"I, um." You suddenly feel embarrassed. "I got lost, and then I sort of just picked a direction and walked."

"You..." Solomon pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation, unable to even bring himself to repeat your words back to you. "You do realize that that's the worst possible thing you could have done, right?" The mage shoots a frown your way. "Do you even know how far off-campus we are right now?"

You ignore his words off with a smile, following him gleefully as he shakes his head in disapproval. "Then isn't it wonderful that I had you to come find me?"

You laugh, the sound filling the otherwise empty night, missing the way Solomon fights off an instinctive smile at the sound.

"If you turn tail and run away every single time I catch you staring at me, we're going to have an issue," The sorcerer mutters, more under his breath than to you. You ignore his words, neither wanting to nor knowing how to respond. "Your crush on me is only going to bring more trouble to us, if things continue on like this."

And that gets to you.

(And though you don't know it, the sorcerer is equally mortified by his statement. He certainly hadn't wanted to confront you like that.)

"You know?!" You exclaim, eyes round in horror. You always knew that he must have had his own suspicions, but for him to just come out and say it? You stare at the man with a mouth agape, raw embarrassment warming your cheeks for the second time today.

"Ah, yes," Solomon comments lamely, wincing when he hears how his words must sound. "I mean, ahem, I would actually, erm, consider myself, goodness look at that goose, to harbor similar sentiments.

"You...what?" You ask suspiciously, partially confident that Solomon just confessed but at the same time confused whether his words mean what you think they do. "You like me?" You ask hesitantly, watching the mage's expressions carefully.

"'Like' is such a strange word," Solomon begins. "One might consider it to be an expression of indifference, whereas another would—"

You cut the mage off with a sharp elbow to the stomach and a pointed glare, warning him to stop being around the bush.

"Fine," He mutters, shooting you a sulky glare. "Yes. I like you, okay? Are you happy now?"

A warm smile blooms on your face as you hear the sorcerer say those words, savoring the beautiful pink that swells on his usually-pale cheeks as he averts his eyes and crosses his arms.

"Yes, that does make me happy," You muse, grinning. "For how long?" You probably didn't have to ask that question—but Solomon's evident embarrassment makes it impossible not to milk this situation for all it's worth.

"Since...the Devildom," He mutters, the pink on his cheeks surging with even more prominence.

You blink at that.

The Devildom?

That's even longer than you've liked him!

"Wow," You confess, eyes slightly round in wonder. "I...I had no idea, this whole time."

"Yeah, I...kind of made sure of that."

"What do you mean?" You pause in your walk to glance at the man standing next to you. "How'd you stop me from figuring it out?"

"I, uh," Solomon scratches the back of his neck, glancing away sheepishly. "I may have used magic."

Wow.

Well, that—

Yeah, that was entirely expected.

A huff leaves your throat, and you cross your arms dramatically as you saunter ahead of Solomon, not bothering to acknowledge the fact that Asmo once warned you that, if Solomon ever started liking you, this was exactly the sort of thing he would do.

You pause, glancing right and then left as you approach a crossing, completely unsure of which way to go but unwilling to reduce yourself to asking the sorcerer from help. Not when you can feel the waves of apology radiating off him.

"Are you mad?" He asks when you stop, and the hesitant inflection of his voice only makes you fall for him more because of how annoyingly adorable you find it.

"Maybe," You respond, deciding to keep him in suspense. "But you can make it up to me."

Before Solomon can ask how, you walk in front of him and turn around such that you're facing him, one arm on your hip as you send a confident smirk.

"Given that we both like each other, see..." You trail off, standing in front of him with a devilish grin on your face as you wait for him to piece together what you're hinting at.

You see his eyes widen, the moment of realization dawning in his eyes as he understands what you're asking him to do.

Solomon doesn't hesitate much after that. He barely spends a single moment preparing himself, and then one hand is reaching for your cheek while his lips pull closer, and you savor the sight of his eyes closing as he presses his lips to yours, and then your own eyes are closed, basking in the feeling of warmth as you grin and lean into the kiss, lifting your own arms to his neck, looping them around to play with his hair the way you've thought about so many times.

Something about the situation is undeniably blissful, undeniably comfortable, and undeniably right as you both kiss, and the very notion that you could have ever been so hesitant about doing this makes you both laugh, the two of you smiling and giggling into the kiss like fools.

You lean back slightly, pulling away to beam at the sorcerer with a proud smile, but Solomon chases your lips, dipping his head forward and halting you from going further back by snaking a hand around your waist. Not at all minding this development, you grin as he turns the kiss passionate, slipping his tongue through your lips with a determined force you can't help but be turned on by, and then the lightheartedness of the previous moment is replaced by a sudden passion for more of this, more of the feeling of Solomon's mouth against yours, more of him.

You bring your hands to his chest, pushing him backward and onto a bench that could not be more conveniently placed as you press his body down onto it, and he doesn't bother commenting on how you're wrinkling his shirt when you grab fistfuls of it and straddle his lap. Or maybe he does try, but you'll never find out, because seconds later your lips are back to being pressed against his and everything else in the world disappears.

"Fuck," Solomon whispers, gasping when you part for air, his fingers just about to slip under your shirt as he caresses your waist.

"Yeah," You respond, knowing exactly what he's talking about. When your eyes dart from his flushed neck to his eyes, the look he gives you is nothing short of sinful.

Seconds later, the two of you are kissing again—because really, Solomon can't look at you like that and not expect you to immediately throw yourself at him—and his fingers really do squirm their way underneath your shirt, the feeling of his touch almost electric as his fingers grip your waist firmly.

And then it really doesn't matter that you're both still in public, that you're straddling Solomon on a public bench and that it's almost well curfew, because holy fuck you've both wanted to do this for way longer than anyone should have to wait, and now that you've started, nothing will pull you apart.

Bonus:

From his lovely little cloud in the heavens, Simeon cheers, a warm smile on his face as he watches his two favorite humans give in to the attraction that has always been painfully obvious to him.

He hums peacefully, internally wondering how he'll go about collecting his money from Lucifer, now that he's won their bet about how long it would take for the two of you to grow intimate—but his bliss is short-lived as he watches you tug Solomon's tie off, a light gasp leaving both his and Solomon's lips, though for two very different reasons.

"No!" Simeon cries, gasping dramatically with a hand over his chest as he realizes what is happening. "You're in public! In public!"

He moans in distress, falling to his knees as he sends a prayer up to Father for you both, his horror widening as he catches sight of buttons popping off your shirt as Solomon slips his hands underneath it, both of you starved and desperate for more contact than your clothes can provide.

"Little lambs!" He wails in horror, and all the other angels stop what they're doing for a moment to wonder what has their Simeon in such a twist, nearly every angel in the heavens listening to the sound of his utterly defeated whimpers that follow as he crawls back into bed, trying his best to forget the unholy sight that now plagues his mind.

"Forgive me, Father," He murmurs, fingers darting from his forehead to his chest, then right and left. But then, he thinks of a better prayer: "Forgive them."

Bonus bonus:

Centuries later, Simeon will reluctantly (and drunkenly) recount this tale to Asmodeus, who will immediately cheer in support. The fifth-born will claim to have always sensed the unspoken sexual tension between the two of you, and has always been an ardent supporter of "giving in to temptation," regardless of how public one's surroundings may be. After hearing Simeon's story, he'll order another round of drinks for the bar, paying for it himself in honor of everyone's two favorite humans, the demon cheering both your names loudly and downing a shot before promptly passing out on Simeon's lap.

MASTERLIST

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: Fun fact: originally, the academy that mc and solomon are at was supposed to be RAS - the royal academy of Solomon - just like RAD, but solomon was the headmaster (and there was a corresponding RAM run by Michael in the Celestial Realm) :) Not fun fact: I’m also working on a diavolo fic right now and it feels like every word is a breath of air being ripped from my already asphyxiated lungs :)

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Thank you for reading <3

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

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jurijurijurious · 4 years

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Rambles on watching PotC in reverse...

So I finished my "watching Pirates of the Carribean films in reverse order" thing. Had a blast, tbh, not seen them for so long it was almost like seeing some of it fresh and all the feels came back! The music is stunning, particularly in number 2 and 3; Hans Zimmer and co. knocking it out the ballpark. Gave me goosebumps!

Anyway, ramble ho!

I appreciate watching a series backwards is a bit odd. It certainly opens your eyes to the nuances (or weirdness) of character development that occurs, but instead of you seeing it flow naturally from origin to conclusion, you end up picking up on where all the little seeds were originally planted long after you've witnessed what the final "bloom" is going to be; a "reverse order" watching also highlights some gaping plot-holes and even the odd awkward and utterly retconned plot point (Jack's compass story, for example, appears to be completely re-written in the fifth film when it is clearly stated in the second that he bartered it from Tia Dalma. There could be a convoluted explanation but it certainly looks like a writing fuck-up, or a case of "we give no shits any more". I'm wondering if the team behind the fifth film even re-watched the other movies?)

I feel like I have much more respect for Elizabeth's character than I once did; I don't think I paid her nearly enough attention back in the day, and watching her story backwards made me recognise how, from the start, she was always more pirate than Will; she was brave, a total geek about pirate lore (her child-self was super excited at the very prospect of pirates!), and she was brave enough right at the start of her adventure to be asked to be taken to parley with the dread Captain Barbossa — just in her nightgown. (Christ, she even tries to kill him! Gutsy lass.) It is only natural therefore that she continues to use her wiles, cunning, and to a degree her sex, to trick and deceive whenever the need calls; in "Dead Man's Chest", she even uses this guile to sacrifice Jack to the locker!

She also, right from the start, learns a lot from ol' Barbossa, and this runs on into the third film; Hector Barbossa is no spring chicken but he has managed to remain captain of a ship of unruly thugs for nigh on ten years following his own mutiny of the original captain, Jack Sparrow. He would never have been able to hold onto that position without a measure of competence, skill and bravery. Elizabeth recognises this and, whether consciously or not, begins to both emulate and acquire knowledge from him, becoming something of a willing student to his ways.

Now this is something I should probably have taken on board more before as I used to write and read "Barbossabeth" fanfiction regularly (probably the most far-fetched alternate pairing in the saga; in reality, Hector is probably the only central male figure Elizabeth doesn't kiss/have a fling with/get engaged to at some point). In truth, as aforementioned, Elizabeth proves from the start to be a match for Barbossa, who is certainly no fool himself, but even in the first film, she starts to learn from him — his line about the pirate code being"guidelines" which he throws at her early on, she literally parrots nearly word-for-word when it suits her later on in the film; and in "At World's End", she works well with him in a team and soaks up how he holds a crew together and the way he rouses loyalty and action through skilled oration; his speech at the Brethren Court, for example, she again regurgitates later on in the film to galvanise her crew for battle. As a pair they banter and tease and argue, but push each other in the right direction when they need to be pushed, and, by the end of the third film, they have both respect and admiration for one-another. It's one of the most subtle but fulfilling character-and-relationship arcs across the original trilogy and deserves more attention.

On the ol' "Barbossabeth" note, to be frank, there's little sign in the films that they would or could be a romantic item; Barbossa teases her in the first film and seems like he might have an idea to make her a"pirate bride", but there seems little chance of him being able to subdue her spirit. There is that wonderful jokey moment in "At World's End" however, designed to trick us all, when Will asks Elizabeth to make her choice regarding his proposal of marriage to her (in the midst of battle) and Elizabeth shouts out in return "Barbossa!"

And just when we all think, along with poor Will, "what the Hell, when did he come into the equation?" she finally finishes her sentence and we realise she is asking Barbossa, in his capacity as the ship's captain, to wed her to Will. (I still remember seeing the film in the cinema and my heart popped at that moment — I'd take Barbossa any day.) But those of us who take a shine to Rush's scarred old sea dog can dream, I suppose.

I think when all's said and done, standing back and looking at these characters and what they go through, Barbossa comes out best at the end. Even though we are introduced to him as a black-hearted brigand who pillages and plunders with his cursed crew, and is allegedly "so evil Hell spat him back out", we finish up with a rogue who has aimed to live his best life, and whose dedication to his ship is unshakeable. When the Pearl is threatened by the Kraken in "Dead Man's Chest", Jack's first thought is to save himself and he sneaks off in a longboat; irrespective of the fact he does have a change of heart and comes back to save the day, we should contrast this with Barbossa's tale of the Pearl being attacked by Blackbeard: the ship is possessed and turns on him and his crew, the rigging coming alive like snakes, wrapping itself round and round his leg. In his head, Hector knows he has to escape to be able to live so he can plot to retrieve his beloved ship and save it from this dark magic; in order to do so, he cuts his own leg off to get away. There is no universe in which Jack Sparrow would have cut his own limb off to free himself, but Barbossa does; there's a steel and strength to this character I don't think is always fully appreciated; he sails the ship like a boss, will hold up in the darkest of battles, and ultimately in the final film gives his own life when he knows his time has come and he owes it to the child he has left behind. There's your hero; Jack Sparrow is your comic relief and nearly always goes in for self preservation.

The other behemoth of these movies which I can not fail to mention is Davy Jones. Though Captain Salazar is a force to behold as the creepy-ass, psychotic undead captain in the final film, the best real menace of the saga is Bill Nighy's captain of the Flying Dutchman. Hans Zimmer composes him a musical theme unlike anything we've heard before, a theme full of deep organ blasts which hits you with clout, and though Jones is entirely CGI, he is still utterly Nighy. To be honest, he's perhaps one of the most incredible CGI movie characters ever created; he looks utterly convincing as the rain pours down his face or his eyes flash at his crew. Considering he first appeared on our screens 14 years ago, this is one Hell of a feat; there have been few better CGI characters on the big screen since. He's extravagant and perhaps hams it up too much for some people to appreciate, but it's a pirates film, you expect extravagance; I never get tired of watching Davy Jones. A piece of artistic wizardry, a cinematic masterpiece.

I will probably think of more to wax lyrical about some time soon. I currently have a plan in my head for a storyboard I would love to get down, at least in sketches, though part of me would love to make a video to mock a scene up, all based on Barbossa's tale about how he lost his leg and the Pearl to Blackbeard. It'd make a cracking scene, I've no doubt, but it'll be a job and a half to realise

#potc #pirates of the caribbean #captain barbossa #davy jones #elizabeth swann #at world's end #dead man's chest #salazars revenge #on stranger tides #blackbeard #geoffrey rush #bill nighy #barbossabeth

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cogtortion · 3 years

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I want to...

Type slightly faster than I can think a good way to ruin a good brainstorm is to make it wait for your fingers to catch up. As far as free flowing thought goes I think I will need to achieve 110-120 words per minute, at least. This should be easier to accomplish if I do not bog myself down with being forced to type with proper grammar, spelling, punctuation etc - thats not needed in a brainstorm-to-paper situation, and as long as you get your point accross [to yourself] and can understand the thought reading it later, there is no reason to slow your mind down just to let the fingers add a comma, capitalize something, or make sure it a proper sentence. This may have been defined already but I am going to call it Draftstorming, it what would come before a rough draft. It’s something for your eyes specifically, since you know how you will interperit oddly worded sentences with shortened words or bad grammar, you dont have to word it like you are explaining a thought to someone else - you already understand what you mean, so shortcuts in typing are fine! Edit later, if you need to share it, work it into a rough draft, but during draftstorming do not worry about gramma, spelling, etc. Just keep up with your brain, even if it means shortening words or spelling awkwardly. Don’t ruin your train of thought because you are trying to spell the word “awkwardly”!

Actually understand how to properly take advantage and use AWS, what the different services do, and not have to fumble my way through hoping I can wing it. I have too many good ideas that just need to combine some new-ish server/service magic to make possible. Some of my ideas just simply cant be realized with a plain server or hosting package anymore. AWS just has so many interesting things that seem magical, it seems like if someone knew what they were doing on AWS, could code, and design, they could pull off some awesome tech wizardry. I want to be a wizard. Hey at least I can [kind of] code and design already!

Build a habit to meditate [suggested book] mostly for the desire to more quickly and ably change my state of my consciously overall. To get “in the zone” on a project can take hours. Using meditation we could speed up this process and many other immensly. Even meditating just for 10 or 20 minutes a day, there is nothing but an upside over time 24/7. Many types of meditation to consider, we would be coming at it not in a spiritual sense or to lower anxiety, but to increase our ability to better control our emotion and train of thought during our life. I think I’d be happy with 30 minutes in the morning and 30 minutes before bed, or in the evening. Thats enough time im willing to give up for the permanent benefits, but to build a habit, just start, doesnt matter how long you manage to meditate, youll do better each time. It will feel forced at first and real life changes I could notice would take at best weeks, but likely months, but if you can force the habit for the time then when the payoffs start coming, it will be great time invested. You have to stick to it through the first parts the best you can, its a learning process. Just imagine if you could sit down to work and through the slight training, get in that mode within minutes, and just manage your control over emotions so that being able to change that state to what is needed or wanted. Without the meditation practice, so much of your time is wasted quieting down thr brain of thoughts that hinder your productivity, creativity, and so much more. /ramble

I want to create a web based VR coding environment. Sort of like the video editor Loiloscope, but 360, where each file can be slid around, zoomed bigger or smaller, and maybe grouped or linked in a cloud, selecting a file makes it large enough for editing, etc. [added 6/29/2021]

I want to create a simple type training game. Something like nitrotype but more options, I’d love it to be focused on coding too, since basically all type training games ignore the characters we need to use the most, { ( [ < ; > ] ) } etc. But would also love to be able to train speed typing where punctuation and whatnot are not needed. [added 7/1/2021]

Build a version of default google chrome homescreen - Where sites/links can be added, but also organized into folders if needed. Some way to make a quick page of sites you want to access quickly but without a limit, yet some way to still make it very quick to navigate no matter how many things you add. Can be offline, done as a personal tool and in the future a sort of admin panel for life. or something. [added 7/1/2021]

Get better at coding - Using exercism.io to learn new languages and codewars.com to build skills off of it and dive deeper, along with other sites of course. [added 7/1/2021]

I want to add to this list - this is the placeholder [added //2021]

#want #goals #wishes

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caticornsrreal · 5 years

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Fighting Dragons with You

After twelve years, I'm finally telling the internet why I love Taylor Swift🖤

Hello, internet using world. I’d like to introduce myself to the few people who followed me. Hi! My name is Christa and I am a Taylor Swift fan with every fiber of my being. Full disclosure, this is a short novel so now is your chance to make an exit, but I hope you stay.

Taylor and my ridiculously furry cat, Lyle

(affectionately nicknamed “rent-free”), are the only two beings made of flesh and bone who have been consistent in my life for the last 12 years. With a close second being my son, Gauge, who just turned 10. I won’t get into the details (in this post) as to why that is, but let’s just say there were a lot of ups and downs growing up.

The last 12 years have been an evolution for Taylor,

and subsequently, for me. At (dare I say it)

38 years old, I’ve found that a lot of things happen in a decade. Like, A LOT. Now, I don’t feel 38. I guess I owe that to humor, singing, dancing, sarcasm, and launching a successful career that didn’t exist 15 years ago —something that has made me always push harder to set new goals and stay humble. But one thing I didn’t do over these last 12 years that I deeply regret was starting a fan page for Taylor. I mean, ESPECIALLY since I’m a professional travel blogger who makes her full time living from digital content!

There’s been a lot of momentum over the last 12 years

—demands which left me with little to no free time. But I can’t blame my absence from the Swiftie family entirely on that. In fact, I’d have to say, I blame much of it on fear.

Fear,

of being misunderstood, fear of judgment or writing something lame. I’ve had over 2,000 articles published online and in print as well as countless social posts, but the thought of Taylor seeing something I wrote and thinking it’s totally weird (or cough, too long for the internet), well let’s just say I’d be less afraid of walking into a burning building.

Fear,

of being called a fake because the financial demands as a single mom left me little money to spend on myself or Taylor merchandise, much less tickets to a show. I’ve always placed my son’s needs before mine.

Fear,

that I was too old to be a Taylor Swift fan. I mean, I was 26 when she hit the music scene and she was what, 16? I’ve been afraid. Afraid I would be rejected by other Swifties who really are the only people who understand this love we have for her —which is basically like being rejected by your own people. Also, it’s super weird to be following teens/young adults on social, much less engaging with them.

Fear.

Along with my fear, a perfect storm of entrepreneurial demands, single motherhood, failed relationships (one of which was a marriage), and family matters have served as a constant reminder that my dream of ever meeting Taylor takes residence on another planet. An actual trip to Mars seemed more attainable.

I feel like there is a whole demographic of women, “Swiftie Moms” who echo my story,

having watched Taylor grow into the strong beautiful woman she's become. Women my age who love her from behind the wheel of their SUV, on the way to drop their kids off to school, on the way back from a milk run, in the dark hours of the mornings when they’re dancing in the kitchen with a full on hair bun singing into a coffee spoon. Unnoticed fans who haven’t had the time to dive head first into the Swiftie Universe. But here I am. After all the fear and all the years...

So, why?

This is a hard one to answer. I guess you can say that after many years of challenges, judgment from others, and doing the complete opposite of what logic and reason said I should —divorce, single motherhood, a second degree in my late twenties... risking it all to start a blog (which by the way in 2013 wasn’t even considered a side job much less a career), I kind of got to a point where I became

fearless.

I had to be. I had this tiny living, breathing human being who was counting on me at the very least, to give him a life a notch above the shit show I had growing up. Not to mention parenting —which is basically wandless wizardry pulled directly from the asses of parents. It demands that your mini human grows up to be a better human than you.

Yeah, unpack that.

Take all your collective shit, figure it out, and then teach your mini to do it better —to BE better than you at love, kindness, respect for others (especially boys respecting girls), integrity, money, and to be fearless. All while giving them the comfort of knowing that you, mom, have it all figured out... even when that couldn't be farther from the truth.

Top that with the pressures of working in the public eye

—which, while on a microscopic level compared to a full-on celebrity such as Taylor, is still very much a juggling act with none of the entourage to lighten the workload. Add to it the demands of working with national brands, and the unwavering ability for other bloggers to tear you down at any opportunity, or even worse, try to get close to you so they can raid your success like a Black Friday sale.

I found myself at the peak of my blogging career

but I was consumed by fear, AGAIN! Fear of shady AF bloggers and publicists, and so much to lose. And fear that now, thousands of people would have an opinion of me formed by jealous bloggers, and they didn’t even know who I really was.

That’s when letting go of toxic people in my life became essential

—when, no matter who they were, or how I was tied to them, I had to realize that surrounding myself with the ones who lifted me took precedence over the ones who dragged me down.

After all that..... I learned to give zero f***s about what people thought, or what they said behind my back.

And I had to start caring about what made my heart happy, what made my family and friends smile, and what inspired me to do better. BE BETTER. Be the example of fearless, with the hope that I was lucky enough to stay that way. But I'm a vulnerable human made of heart and soul and sometimes people can still take the best from me.

I had to be fearless.

In August of 2017 when "Look What You Made Me Do” blessed my ears for the first time, I felt it pierce my skin and course through my veins. And to the very bones of this young 38-year-old Swiftie mom, I was shook AF! I sang, I danced and I drowned out the haters in the blogging world. She had a very clear message,

She had zero f***s to give, Taylor broke the internet.

After watching the seemingly endless myriad of shade thrown at Taylor over the years, my heart erupted with happiness as her flawless first single from Reputation revealed one BADASS BITCH. And with every music video release of her new era, she became a mythical Goddess with bullshit evaporating superpowers. Like, I legit think she’s an actual unicorn. After all, she does ride a caticorn named Olivia.

She got harder, she got smarter in the nick of time

One single post on my Facebook page praising her new era and new single she brought with it attracted a slew of hate speech, white people bashing, claims of Taylor ripping off Beyonce... I couldn’t believe the things I was reading from fellow bloggers. I even had a GLOBAL BRAND threaten my business relationship in their ambassador program because I stood up for Taylor and spoke out about the hate speech which was placed on my own personal Facebook page. But I stood by my words.

Fearless.

Over the following months into early 2018, and to the tune of, “This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things”, I, along with a slew of about 20 other bloggers, ended up taking down said global brand’s publicist who was using his budget and power to demean and sexually harass female bloggers (which would later reveal that blacklisting me was more about not buying into that bullshit rather than my voice on hate speech).

Zero f***s given to those haters.

Mythical Goddess with bullshit evaporating superpowers level officially achieved for Taylor, and even for me. Although I wouldn’t call myself a Goddess. That's all Tay. 🖤

She found love through the noise

And so did I. In November of 2017, I had approached the year anniversary of the greatest love I'd ever known. My last stop. And as the tracks played on, my heart was full. We both found happiness through a seemingly endless sea of anguish.

Taylor is truly doing better than she ever was, and so am I.

Her resilience up against the media and the demands of the industry are perfectly fearless. And her decision to keep her beautifully growing relationship with Joe private is wise. I’ve spent the last year at home, which has been incredible. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what’s most important to me, what has shaped me into the mom, partner and entrepreneur that I am, and it all comes back to Taylor. That’s why it’s time for me to be fearless again and officially join the Swiftie universe.

I’ve spent 12 years fighting dragons with Taylor

and growing a canyon of respect and adoration for her charm, wit, business savvy, musical talent, feminism, compassion, tenacity, love for animals, and of course her lovely, lovely, words. I’ve raised my son from birth with her. There isn't a single day that is spent where Taylor doesn't exist in our lives. For 12 years straight.

That’s a long time to love someone who has no idea you exist.

I play her music videos and YouTube uploads just so I can feel like she’s with us. And so my son knows that she’s one of the finest examples of a human being in his lifetime. I use Taylor’s kindness to teach my son how to be considerate and give back to others while sharing her fearless story with him so she can be a positive role model in his life. Taylor has essentially been part of our family all along.

My son Gauge has a running joke that Taylor is the only person that can make me cry

(which happens more than I'm willing to admit). And it’s not because I’m weak, or on the verge of a mental breakdown (although I challenge you to try parenting, you might argue that), it’s because I truly love her like a best friend. When I see her happy it makes me happy, when I feel her sadness, it makes me sad. It’s visceral.

I don't believe the human connection is meant to be one-sided.

I feel in my heart, as weird as this may sound, that we will meet Taylor one day, even against all odds. Existing in the same lifetime as Taylor without at least trying to meet her doesn't feel right. I won't look at my son and teach him to let fear and doubt win, or that defying the odds is an impossible task.

Over the years I’ve been a spectator to her outreach to fans. She’s invited them to sessions in her homes, sent them gifts, invited them backstage, surprised them in their homes, made hospital visits, and Lord knows what else she has up her sleeve. And it’s all been done with pure excitement and love for her Swifties. With each outreach she extends, tears of joy are shed for fellow Swifties, and a ray of hope inspires me.

So, I’m starting a personal blog

which tells a very personal story of all the dragons I’ve fought with Taylor over the years. From living in a car at 15 years old to getting invited to LA premieres for Walt Disney and Marvel films. And I'll have no apologies for the truths that will be told (but will change names for privacy). It will be very personal and some of it won’t be pretty. Because life isn’t always pretty.

Taylor is releasing another album this year... we hope,

and she’ll be on yet another tour in 2020. After 12 years I’m finally ready for it. I’ve given my son everything he could possibly want or need. I’ve bought him a beautiful home in Northern Georgia. He’s been able to travel the world and do things most adults haven’t even done. And I owe much of that to Taylor for giving me the strength to take major risks, the courage to face my demons, the balls to cut people out of my life who were toxic and the self-confidence to defy the odds and do things my way.

2019 is our year to show @taylorswift how much we love her.

I’ll let the universe do the rest. Till then, I’ll be fighting dragons with her as I always have and writing my journal for her and anyone else who wants to read the memoirs of an OG Swiftie mom who keeps it real AF, full-on hair bun and all.

#taylor #taylorswift #taylurking #taylornation #taylor swift #taylor13 #taylorswift13 #taylornation13 #fightingdragons #swifties #swiftie #tswift13 #deartaylor #dear taylor

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airyseaknight · 6 years

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The Story Continues...

I loved Trollhunters and I look forward to more Tales of Arcadia! With Season 3 over and with so many feels that came from it, I thought I would share an idea of a fanfic that takes place right after the events of the last episode. Let me know what you think!

So imagine after Jim, Claire, Merlin and all the Arcadia trolls finally get to New Jersey after weeks of travel, they get to New Jersey and find the heartstone. They also find a troll market and trolls there too. The troll leader of the NJ troll market is a jerk and when he meets the gang he doesn’t allow Claire to stay, but then Jim is like “well if she goes, I go” and the jerk face leader quickly changes his mind, reluctantly, because Jim killed Morgana, Gunmar, and Bular, so he’s kinda a big deal among the trolls in NJ troll market.

So the Arcadia gang start to adjust to the NJ troll market and Jim faces a NJ troll champion and beats him up and maybe befriends him.

While that goes on, Claire wants to learn about wizardry from Merlin but he’s a buttsnack and doesn’t want to teach her. Claire figures that Merlin doesn’t want to train another Morgana, but Claire convinces him she’s pure in heart so Merlin, after much buttsnackiness, gives in and teaches her his magic spells.

Jim video chats/calls his mom and Toby a ton. Maybe Jim calls his mom and interupts her with Walt. Toby would update him about how the two new foreign students were aliens and now there’s an alien bounty hunter in Arcadia (or something like that) Toby would be all “JIM ALIENS EXSIST! And they’re NOT like E.T!” And Jim is all “why am I not surprised -_-”

As Merlin teaches Claire awesome spells, she and Merlin get a vision or something that there are bad wizards coming to New Jersey for some powerful relic or maybe for Merlin. So they all have to deal with these bad wizards and eventually learn that there are also good wizards in New Jersey. They win in the end and create a treaty of sort between wizards and trolls.

Also:

Claire helps home school Jim so he can technically graduate high school.

Jim learns more about troll food and becomes like a 5 star troll chef?

Merlin comes up to Jim and is all like “oh I forgot to show you how to take the suit off” and then says some phrase and his suit comes off. Course Jim is still half troll, but at least he can wear normal stuff, so Claire gets Jim some very nice fitting new clothes :V

Clarie would eventually go to college and start an awesome career as like a music/movie producer or something in the arts.

There of course would be lots of Jlaire moments. Like A TON.

Maybe even a quest were Jim tries to recreate the mishap that turned Blinky into a human so he can have a normal date with Claire. Cause they still haven’t had one of those yet.

Don’t know if this would be in the story but, I can’t help myself:

Anyway skip a few years down the road when they’ve fought wizards and possibly aliens and they’re in their early twenties. Claire career is starting to go down the drain because of all the work she misses, cause she’s been helping save New Jersey with Jim. So she and Jim are fighting about their future and Jim is like “I can’t give you what you want, you should go and live your life, play in the sun, build your career, get married….start a family”

And Claire is all like “You don’t get to make my decisions for me. I don’t want to start a family with anybody else, because I love you. and because…..I’ve already started a family with you” and he’s all like “wait what?”

And she‘s like “I’m pregnant” Jim flashbacks to when he and Claire were taking care of a sack of flour together as a school project. After processing this Jim says “I get to be...a Dad?” and she smiles and says “yeah, you’re gonna be a papá” Then he just goes over and embraces her in a half-troll hug.

End of story idea.

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fearfilledvirgil · 6 years

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Ivity and Anx: part fourteen

Summary: Virgil listends to the song that Princey posted in his living room. Things go to hell.

Warnings: accidental self isolation, breif mention of migraines, parental abuse, attempt of muder, a knife, self-blame, self-depreciation, guilt

Word count: 5130

Pairing: Slowburn Prinxiety, lots of platonic Analogical

A/N: HI I RECORDED A SONG FOR THIS PART AND I’M SHAKING. Anyways listen to this song which is a recording of the song that Princey sings. But with my voice. And yes, I made Roman have the same guitar as I do because I’m emoTIONALLY ATTACHED okay? The video is bad, but just pretty please listen to it and read the chapter or both at once I don’t know. If you know how it sounds it gives the words a bit more meaning than just random poetry. Anyways. This chapter is very emotionally taxing and sad. It made several beta readers cry. Good luck. Taglist under the cut.

masterlist

Taglist: @rileyfirstname @verymuchanidiot @definentlynotjustanotherlemon @silversmith-91 @kanejandkruge @sander-fander-sides @lovecrazyjennybear @the-incedible-sulk @hexdream18243 @crows-with-hats @monikastec @definenormalifyoucan @i-am-absolute-fandom-trash @applecannibal @cats-with-blogs @bubblycricket @witchcraft--and--wizardry @bunnyartie @quietlypondering @elusivefalsehoods @hghrules @royallyanxious @quietwords-loudthoughts @squishynonbinarytwink @sortablue @illogical-anxieties @savingshae @a-fander-named-skittles @thelowlysatsuma @ughthatsprettygay @im-so-infinitesimal @certifiedtrashxx @karmels-stuff @littlelogicstillcounts @musicqueen1239 @nicological1 @the-average-loner

Today had been a long day, but that wasn’t unusual. Long days were a common thing for Logan since he moved into his college dorm, but that was mostly his fault. Classes hadn’t started yet, for either Logan or his friends going into their junior year, but that didn’t mean that Logan hadn’t started studying yet. The seventeen-almost-eighteen year old would spend several hours a day at the library, reading his textbooks and teaching himself the material for the classes to come. He also kept detailed and clean notes, something that made him happy.

His notes served a few purposes for Logan. It was a way to destress, it let out his creativity in a productive way, it helped him remember what he studied, and it provided him something to put on his Tumblr along with his bullet journal. He had what was called a studyblr, and was fairly popular. When he followed Virgil without telling him what his blog was, the younger nearly had a heart attack.

Logan’s pen stopped in the middle of the sentence he was writing. Virgil. He hadn’t talked to the younger in a while, which honestly scared him. The two used to be inseparable, considering that both were on the outskirts of the social game. Logan was always diving into books, and Virgil was always avoiding people at all costs. Now, though, with Logan off at college and burying himself in his books again, the two weren’t talking as much. Come to think of it, he hadn’t talked to Patton in a while. That was an oddity as well, since the excitable man loved talking to him. Logan loved talking to him. The college student felt a dip in his stomach, probably because of guilt. He was so busy studying at the library that he had begun to forget his friends.

A text tone interrupted the classical music streaming through his headphones, making him pause. A light of hope flickered inside his mind, because just maybe, it was one of his friends deciding to break the silence. He didn’t even realize how much he missed them these past few months until now.

Patton Heart <3: Hey Logan! I think you probably should check this out. It’s totally about Virgil, but you know more about the situation then I do.

After the first text, Patton sent with it a link to a video on YouTube. Logan was certainly confused, but once he clicked the link to preview the video, he understood. Roman posted a video, most likely unedited, of a song about Virgil.

Logos Brain: Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will alert Virgil. How have you been, Patton? I apologize for my momentary absence. I have been settling in here and regrettably forgot to talk.

Patton Heart <3: It’s okay!! I’m glad you’re settling in well. Make any friends?

Logos Brain: No one could replace you, Heart

Logan could not see, but Patton was flapping his arms everywhere at that comment. It gave him peace of mind knowing that Logan felt so strongly about him, even though he was known for not having any feelings. It made Patton warm and fuzzy inside, like most things that Logan said. What Logan could see, though, was his own phone pulling up Virgil’s contact and sending him the link to the video.

Pocket Protector: Virgil, Roman wrote a song about you. You may want to check it out.

Honorary Brother: Oh. Okay. Thank you Lo Sorry we haven't been texting

Pocket Protector: Its my fault. I was neglecting my friends in favor of studying

Honorary Brother: This is why I usually am the buffer. Taking ten minute breaks every half an hour? For your head?

Pocket Protector: Yes, Virgil. I promise.

Virgil was usually the one causing Logan to worry, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t worry about him too. The elder had an skill for getting headaches after reading or concentrating for too long. If he let the headache go without treating it, there was a more than likely chance that he would get a migraine. If it got to that point, little would stop the pain, and the migraine would persist for hours, or even days. That’s why Virgil made Logan have the ten for thirty rule.

Virgil shifted on the couch, trying to get more comfortable as he clicked on the YouTube link. He knew it was Roman, but he didn’t know how he could write a song about him of all people and be able to pass it by the record label. As soon as the video loaded, though, Virgil understood.

The title of the video was ‘Psychic, an Original Song by Roman Prince’ and opened with Roman pulling his arm away from the camera. He was sitting in a mostly dark room, fairy lights behind him, with his guitar resting on his legs. His head was almost out of frame, but the bottom half of his face was visible. Virgil sucked in a breath as Roman started talking on the video.

“I just want to start out with saying that this video is currently in no way related to Vidomen Records or any of it’s associates. I actually just wrote this song like… ten minutes ago, but I just.... I need to get this out. So. This is called Psychic.” Roman’s voice was soft, spoken with care and in his lower register. Virgil suddenly became aware that he did not, in fact, have his headphones in, and was making a loud commotion in the living room by playing the video.

Be seen not heard. Or, better yet, don’t be fucking seen either, but don’t leave this house, ya hear? The booming echo of the memory of his father’s voice made a shiver fall down Virgil’s spine. He quickly turned down the volume as low as it could go without being off. He then put the phone up to his ear, closed his eyes, and listened to Roman’s smooth voice begin to sing.

It’s almost like he can read by thoughts But I wish you could too All these emotions and things inside That I’m trying to get through to you.

Virgil’s heart plunged into his gut at the sheer emotion in the words that Roman sang. They were taken straight from Princey’s own heart, which made Virgil understand why he put the disclaimer at the beginning of the video. It was nothing like his usual, peppy, flamboyant songs. This song was pure Roman. Virgil held onto the phone harder as the slower chorus played through the small speakers.

If you could be inside my mind Then I wouldn’t have to try To put my pride aside And tell you the truth But the truth is hard to get out When it falls on closed ears So can you be psychic for me? Can you be psychic for me?

Roman took another breath to continue singing, but Virgil’s phone was knocked away from him. Fear stabbed him in the heart and gripped his lungs to make it hard to breath. His eyes widened, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his father grabbed his wrist. He was pulled off the couch, tossed down to the floor.

Vaguely, he could hear Roman continue singing with, “I know that you’re terrified.”

“What did I tell you about making noise?” Virgil’s father growled as he stepped closer to his son, who was now on the floor.

A little ways away, Roman continued singing with, “Because you’ve been cast aside.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir.” Virgil started to stutter, but was stopped from further apology by a kick to his side. The fear inside his chest was pushing at his rib cage, almost begging to be released. It was pounding, hard and fast like nothing he had ever felt before. He didn’t understand the difference in this punishment. It had started out just like all the others, so why was his adrenaline at an all time high? Why was he so scared, but not of the man leaning over him?

“Tell me what I told you!” the father figure yelled, his fists clenching as he stepped on Virgil’s wrist.

In the distance, Roman finished the chorus with, “Your feelings were twisted for fun. Words like bullets from my gun.”

It was at this moment that Virgil finally came to a screeching halt. Roman’s voice flowed into his ears as he sang the bridge again, somehow becoming louder with every passing second. Everything around him dimbed, the loudness of his father screaming his sentence again diminishing as his ears started ringing. The world was starting to go into some sort of slow motion, allowing Virgil to rethink over the decision that his mind had already made the moment that the phone was slapped out of his hand. Now he realised why this time was different. This time, he had Roman’s voice with him, a voice that he had once hated but learned to love. It was the soft tone that the singer used to comfort the other on those late night calls, and it was with him in this moment. This time was different because Roman unintentionally just accidently gave him hope. He didn’t understand why the lying boy would write this song, but it struck a chord inside Virgil. He didn’t register the dryness of his mouth or the pain in his wrist. All Virgil could think about was the word stuck in his throat, leaning off the tip of his tongue.

“No.”

“What?” Virgil’s father took a step back in shock. He hadn’t heard that word pass from his son’s lips since before his mother died. “What the fuck did you say?’”

“I said,” Virgil sat up from the floor, his hand finding his phone that was still playing the song and placing it in his back pocket. He was standing now, straightening his back with a slight bit of pain to be taller than his father. He was working on auto pilot, the world still fuzzy. “No.”

Thanks to the odd sensation of not actually being in his body that Virgil was experiencing, everything that followed was a blur. There were loud words, dodged punches, and spit flying everywhere. That much was processed in his head. Virgil was vaguely aware that he was also yelling, but what of, he didn’t have a solid grip. The words passing off his tongue felt like he was calling his dad out about being a drunk, and calling him out on how he treated his own son, but he couldn’t be exactly sure.

Before Virgil could acknowledge it, he had screamed his throat raw. His father’s eyes were glaring daggers at him, wide and seething. He could only see red. Virgil, on the other hand, was coming back down to earth, and the hope in his stomach was washing away. Every ounce of confidence that may had been left fully disappeared when his father reached over the kitchen counter. He didn’t realize that they had moved so close to the kitchen in their fighting, and Virgil was going to pay for that.

Mr. Sanders drew his hand back, revealing a long silver kitchen knife. Virgil’s heart rate suddenly skyrocketed, his hands beginning to shake even more than they were. His father took a step closer, which made Virgil take a step back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean…” His eyes were glued onto the knife. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t fucking cut it,” His father was advancing quicker. He adjusted his grip on the knife. “You need to be taught a lesson.”

Virgil attempted to back away again, but instead fumbled over the couch. His back hit the cushions, but he was immediately attempting to scramble away. His father was still approaching with some sort of sick gleam in his eyes. Was this his plan all along? To get him to fight back, only to stab his chest to hear him scream and see the light leave his eyes? Did he hate him that much, that he’d kill him? Virgil fell off the couch, too caught up in the dark thoughts to notice the end of the sofa. The floor came up too quickly, and suddenly he was eating carpet. He heard his dad snicker behind him, dark and menacing. This was too much, this was too much and Virgil could not take it.

Somehow, he managed to get up off the floor. It was messy and ungraceful, but he grabbed his hoodie laying on the ground while getting up from the floor. With his hoodie in hand, and his phone in his back pocket, now all he had to do was get the fuck out of the apartment. Of course, Mr. Sanders had other plans than to let his son escape that easily. He follows Virgil menacingly, the glint in his eye growing as he started to raise the knife.

“I’ve been too lenient to you. It’s time you get what you deserve.” he said, looking at the knife and looking toward his son. Virgil’s vision swarmed in and out, his breathing all but stopped.

The next few moments would stay in Virgil’s mind the rest of his days. They played out in slow motion, frame by frame, as it happened.

Mr. Sanders lunged quite quickly, but it didn’t feel quick at all. Virgil eyed the knife, sharp and threatening, as it darted toward his chest. Before he could think, Virgil began to turn to the side, his eyes never leaving the intentional divits in the glinting silver. As he was trying to get away from the plunging knife, Virgil put his arms out in front of him. While he turned, his arms did too, which was both a good thing and a bad thing. The knife missed its mark on Virgil’s chest, but it still sliced through his upper arm. A small scream ripped from Virgil’s throat as it did so, but he pressed on. Since his arms were moving forward as he twisted, the knife was pressed deeper into his arm. But after it passed through his flesh, Virgil’s arms connected with his father’s body and pushed away.

Afterward, time sped up.

Virgil was running. His breathing was quick, coming in bigger gasps then before. He fumbled with the door for only a moment before it was open and he was running. He was going down the concrete stairs ten times faster than he usually did, only bent on getting away from the apartment. He needed to get away, even though he knew that he would eventually have to return. But for tonight, he ran like there was no tomorrow.

That was, at least, until his panic driven state began to wash away. His lungs burned, as did his legs, but at least he was away. Virgil took a second to gauge where he was. Upon looking around, he concluded that he was in Logan’s neighborhood. His legs must have carried him here due to muscle memory. Virgil thought that was okay for the moment until he realized something very important. Logan was not here. Without Logan, Virgil had no one. And, now that the fight or flight response had eased up, he just realized how much pain his arm was in.

So Virgil did the only thing he knew how to do: call Logan.

Once seated semi-comfortably on a bench in the neighborhood park nearby, Virgil attempted to pull his jacket on to attempt to keep the chill of night at bay. He took out his phone and sighed. More cracks had formed when he fell over the couch.

“Please still fucking work.” Virgil pushed the button to unlock his phone and let out a sigh of relief when it still turned on. He went to Logan’s contact number and hit the call button.

Logan picked up after two rings. “Good evening, Virgil.”

“Hey Lo.”

Logan could hear in Virgil’s voice that he was crashing from the adrenaline. “Is everything alright?”

Virgil considered lying for a moment. He knew that Logan could read him like a book, even over the phone, so he decided against it. “No. It’s not. It fucking sucks.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” When he didn’t get an answer, Logan decided to try something different. “Gauge?”

Virgil sighed. He was simultaneously grateful and hateful at just how well his friend knew him. “Eight and a half.”

“What happened?”

Virgil took a breath, his grip on his phone tightening. “Knife.”

There was shuffling at the other side of the line. “Virgil, Virgil, you need to get it looked at. It’s not something that I can help you with where I am.”

“I know that, Logan, but you know I can’t go to the hospital.”

“I know. There is someone else you can go to,” There was a pause, then the opening and closing of a door. “Someone who has helped you through a lot.”

“Don’t fucking say it.”

“Virgil.” The tone was testing, but Virgil didn’t care at the moment.

“No, Logan. I can’t.” Virgil shook his head even though he knew Logan couldn’t see. “Not after this long of time. He probably fucking hates me. He’s probably planning how to make next year a living hell.”

“He misses you.”

Three simple words. Something Virgil never thought he’d hear about Roman. Did Patton talk to Logan about it? Is that how Logan knew that Roman missed him? Logan wasn’t one to say or do anything without some facts behind it so it wasn’t a gut feeling.

“You don’t know that, Logan.”

“Yes I do. Patton’s said so. Several times.” At the moment, it sounded as though Logan was walking rather quickly. “Patton even told me that Roman’s tried reaching out to you.”

“Roman hates me. He’s out to make my life a living hell.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, but kept walking. “Do I honestly need to read to you a list of reasons for you to go to him?”

“You don’t have one of those ready, Pocket Protector.”

“Actually, I do. Give me a moment.”

Virgil shouldn’t have been surprised, considering that Logan was crazy over lists and notes. He would comprise one full of pros and cons about Roman. Sighing, Virgil put a little pressure on the cut, hoping to stop a little of the bleeding. There was a sound on the other end of the line of a door opening and closing again. Then came the ruffling of papers.

“Are you ready, Virgil?” Logan asked a few moments later.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so. List away.”

“I’m ignoring that. Some of the pros of going and talking to Roman include: He knows about your past and would be least likely to completely, um, ‘lose it’ if you showed up bleeding. Roman also has been able to help keep you calm in moments of excessive alarm. Occasionally even more capable at it than I am. You are also very comfortable with him. At least you were before you realized who he was. You trust him to some extent. And I believe that he has no intention of hurting you.”

“Wait. Did you just say ‘I believe’?” Virgil couldn’t help but point that out.

“Based off of evidence I have collected, yes.”

“And what evidence would that be?” As much as he hated to admit it, he was curious about what would cause Logan to say that.

“One example would be that he told Patton that he ‘had ruined everything’ and ‘it was all his fault.’”

Virgil didn’t know how to respond to that. It was the last thing that he expected Roman Prince to say about him. He never thought that Roman would go so far as to blame himself. He thought that Roman would laugh about the experience and use it as more fuel against him.

“Virgil?” Logan’s voice broke Virgil out of his thoughts.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said would you like more evidence?”

“No, thank you. I don’t want want to hear the page and a half of evidence you probably have on that one point.”

“It is a page and a quarter.”

“Whatever you say.” Virgil couldn’t help the slight smile that was on his face. He missed talking with Logan so much.

“Anyway. Roman would also find a way to help you without making you go to the hospital. And just talking to him would be enough to, uh, pay him back.”

“Based off what Patton said I’m guessing?”

“Precisely. Though it is a possible con in he may not want to talk to you. It was a few months ago that Patton told me this.”

“Any other cons?”

Virgil heard the shuffling of pages from the other line again. “He could be upset that you didn’t let him explain himself. He could be upset that you broke off all ties. However it’s hypothesized that sitting down and talking to him about why will rectify that. Actually almost all of the cons I have written could be corrected by just talking to him.”

“Almost all?” Virgil’s curiosity got the better of him.

“The one outcome that wouldn’t be corrected is if he truly never cared for you, which seems highly illogical. I believe that there is an infinitesimal chance that talking to him will work.”

“Logan. Buddy. That’s not encouraging.”

“Why not? I am simply saying that there is a great chance that if you talk to him things will be alright.”

“Not that ‘infinitesimal’ means Lo.”

Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard Logan typing away quickly at his computer. He could almost imagine the look of disbelief on the other’s face. The sputtering from the other line proved that Logan was at a loss for words at misusing the term.

“I...deeply apologize for that, Virgil.”

“‘S all good. I knew you didn’t mean it.” There was a pause. “So you really believe it’s a good idea to go to Roman?”

“I truly do. While he may be arrogant, I do not believe that he will turn you away. He’s prideful but he still has a heart.”

“Alright. If he does I expect a major apology.”

“I promise.”

Virgil took a deep breath and was about to hit the end call button when something stopped him. It was some emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time. After pondering it for a minute, Virgil realized it was pride. He was proud of what he was going to tell Logan.

“I stood up to him.” Virgil whispered as he got up from the bench.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked, fearing the answer.

“My father. I... I stood up to him”.

“That’s… That’s good, Vee. If you did, I think it’s all the mor--”

“That’s not it, Logan.” Virgil cut off his friend. He was now standing near the bench, not ready to leave the familiar place yet.

“What’s not ‘it?’” Logan sounded worried. There was another shift on the other side of the line, signifying that he put down his papers.

“It all happened so fast, or slow, I don’t know. He may not have but... I turned and the-the-the blade went deep into my arm and…” Virgil took a deep breath to attempt to steady his heavily beating heart. He couldn't get it out. He couldn’t.

“You’re probably bleeding far worse than I anticipated because of, of your bravery,” Logan moved the phone to his other ear. “You did stand up to him, that’s what matters. And I’m.. I’m extremely proud of you.”

“Yeah but now my jacket is going to be soaked in blood.” Virgil joked as he started walking again. He heard a muffled ‘Jesus Christ’ on the other end of the line which made him crack a smile.

“If you do not go to Roman I will fly home and personally drag you kicking and screaming to the hospital and then to his house.” Concern was clear in Logan’s voice.

Virgil knew Logan well enough to know he meant it. “I’m already off the bench and out of the park. You’re just lucky the two of you don’t live that far apart.”

“We what now?”

“I ran into your neighborhood. Muscle memory I guess.”

“I am… sorry that I am not there to help you.” Regret was clear in Logan’s voice. He wished the world that he could be there to help protect his friend.

“Its okay. You’ve got collage, and… Like I said, he only lives a few blocks away.” Virgil was lying. He was lying so hard that it hurt. But he had to, because he couldn’t spend his entire life dependant on Logan. He had enough of Virgil’s bullshit and pain. He deserved a normal life full of learning, possibly love, without Virgil weighing him down. That’s all he ever did, really, was weigh him down. If Virgil hadn’t been so stupid as to go to his house all those years ago, hurt and afraid, then Logan’s life could have been free from pain. The most he had to worry about was love and knowledge. But no, Virgil had to ruin all of that.

“Virgil, talk to me.” Logan cut through Virgil’s internal thoughts. He seemed to do that a lot.

“What? Sorry, spaced out.”

“You worry me. I asked if you want me to stay on the phone with you?” Worry was even more evident in Logan’s voice than before.

Virgil pulled his hood up to hopefully block some of the wind as he turned onto the main street. It was late, past midnight at least, so there wasn’t too many cars to disturb the call. “Maybe? I don’t know. It sounded like I took you away from something.”

“That was… nothing really important. A dorm activity.”

“That you liked or not?” You fucking idiot Virgil. He was doing normal college stuff and you couldn’t even let him do that. Stupid.

“It was okay. I met this mess of a man, Nate, who scares me with how much he procrastinates.”

“So… ProcrastiNATE.”

“I hate you.” Logan couldn’t help the slightly fond smile despite his annoyance at the pun.

“Come on, you love me.”

“You’re right. I do. A lot, honorary little bro.”

“Did you just call me ‘bro?’ What has college done to you?” Virgil teased his best friend. No, that wasn’t right. Logan was his brother. They were closer than blood could ever make them.

“I tried! But honestly, you’re still Honorary Brother in my contacts.”

Virgil was silent for a few moments before he regained himself. “That means a lot to me, Lo.”

“I know it does, Virge.”

Virgil was still concerned that he messed up an important part of Logan’s experience at college. “Are you sure that I’m not taking you away from anyone right now?”

A knock on a door at Logan’s end of the call gave him his answer. “One moment.”

“Sure.”

Logan removed the phone from his ear and covered the speaker to hopefully minimize what Virgil could hear. He sat up from the chair at his desk to approach the door. Upon opening it, the man that he talked about to Virgil was standing there. Logan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before raising one as to ask ‘what are you doing here?’

“Oh, good, this is your dorm. Okay.” Nate pushed up his sunglasses and leaned against the doorframe.

“What do you want? I’m a bit preoccupied.” Logan was annoyed, that much was clear. Virgil was just able to make out his words, which made him feel even more guilty than he already was.

“Dude, you left right in the middle of a conversation. And said something about a hospital. We worried.” the concern in Nate’s voice actually seemed genuine, at least to Logan.

“I’m helping out a friend of mine, its-” Logan was promptly cut off by Virgil on the other end of the line.

“Logan! Go back to the meeting thing!” Virgil half-yelled into the phone, hoping that his friend would hear him. “I’m almost there anyway.” That wasn’t the full truth, but it was close enough to the truth that Logan wouldn’t mind anyway.

Nate looked down at Logan’s phone, then back up to the younger with a smirk. “And the friend agrees with me. Come on, tell ‘em goodbye and come back! Brian’s about to talk school stuff and by the looks of ya, you’d like that.”

“Go, Logan!” Virgil yelled again. Logan brought his phone back up to his ear for the second part of Virgil’s sentence. “Besides, a dude named Brian? That’s gotta be cool. He has your last name as a name.”

“Yeah, well, you’re more important,” Nate gave him a goofy smile, to which Logan responded by tearing the phone away from his face and saying, “Not like that, you, uh, you...”

“Buffoon?” Virgil supplied.

“Buffoon! Wait, Vee, what does that even mean?” Nate watched these two sortof interact with a happy glint in his eye. They were good friends. Even he could tell.

“Dunno. Now go.”

“Fine. Goodbye, Virgil. Please call me if you need more assistance. Text me when you get there.”

“Will do, Lo. Talk to you later.” Virgil’s grip on his phone tightened. They were doing the dance of who will hang up again.

“Good luck.” Neither wanted to do it. Logan wanted to provide support, while Virgil didn’t want to let go of familiarity and the comfort of Logan’s voice. But he had to.

“You too.” Virgil said with finality before removing the phone from his face and pressing the end call button. Just like that, his fate was sealed.

Not only that, but Virgil knew that his phone was dying. He didn’t have time to grab anything other than his sweatshirt. No charger, no change of clothes, no wallet, no earbuds, no nothing. Virgil took a look at the time, and his battery, before placing it in his back pocket again. No earbuds meant no music, and no music meant that his mind was free to wander.

This was not a good thing, despite what some people might think. Virgil’s mind wandering was never good. Now he had the chance to think over all the reasons why Roman hated him, and why he would definitely turn him away. Virgil walked on like this, pain in his upper arm and worrying thoughts in his mind. It took everything in his being not to think himself creepy for knowing the way. The boy had given the younger his address willingly at some point after their split. Virgil saved it, most likely because of the lingering hope in his heart. Soon enough, he would reach the one place he never thought he’d actually go: Roman Prince’s house.

next part

Shoutout to the amazing @lovecrazyjennybear! She helped me a ton with this chapter (specifically most of Logan and Virgil’s conversation), and even more chapters to come. You are an amazing beta reader and an even more amazing friend! (and writer, and editer, and all the ideas you have. you are amazing all around)

#fail’s writing #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides incorrect quotes #virgil angst #tw abuse #tw murder #so yeah you all get to hear my singing voice and see part of my face #cool

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afvdvd · 3 years

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the-firebird69 · 3 years

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yeoni-k-art · 6 years

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Why Credence wasn’t admitted into Ilvermorny...maybe

It’s probably already too late for this, but spoilers...obviously.

I was watching a couple of Harry Potter fan theories, and came across the following comment-question that peaked my curiosity and got me thinking.

TammyLouise7921 month ago HUGE UNANSWERED QUESTION YOU MISSED!! Why the hell wasn't Credence collected to go to Illvermorny?!?! Dumbledore went to go get Tom Riddle and Hermione had a representative come and tell her. You don't just get a letter to tell you to show up at hogwarts. There's clearly a process for entering these individuals coming from non-magical homes into the wizarding world. Leaves the question why didn't anyone come for Credence?!? Does MACUSA have weird policies around muggle-born wizards/un-registered magical babies because it's hinted Crendences mother was possibly a witch. So WTF. I can see that MACUSA would have hang ups about muggle borns because of their statute of secrecy stuff but it seems incredibly irresponsible and directly against that statute to not keep tabs on all magical kids regardless of parentage. THIS TO ME IS A HUGE HOLE NO ONE SEEMS TO TALK ABOUT!!! PLEASE MAKE A VIDEO.

Very interesting question. Here's my take on the matter.

The comment about MACUSA vs his blood status could possibly be a reason, and for the reason given - to keep witches and wizards hidden. Newt even says they have “backwards laws about relations with muggles”.

There could be a few other reasons for Credence not being admitted into Ilvermorny, however, and those are the ones I want to talk about here. Let’s get started.

So, first of all, we don't know all that much about Ilvermorny, which means that I'll be drawing comparisons with what we do know - Hogwarts. I’m sure there will be differences between the two schools, but seeing as the desire to keep the existence of magic a secret is a common factor here, I think it’s safe to assume there would be some common ground between the two schools too.

According to Pottermore, the admittance of students to Hogwarts is done via an enchanted quill and book combination known as The Quill of Acceptance and The Book of Admittance, which was set up by the four founders of Hogwarts. (source)

(This is what Hagrid was referencing in his remark about Harry having had "his name down ever since he was born"). This article also goes on to inform us that Neville Longbottom very nearly never got his admittance to Hogwarts at all due to the delay in confirmation of his magical aptitude - he was already 8 years old when his name was finally written down.

Yet another thing is that not all 11 year old witches and wizards in the UK are chosen to attend Hogwarts. Dumbledore even says in the article that "it saves the staff tedious explanations to parents who are furious that their children have not been selected for Hogwarts" - meaning some kids born into a magical family, who do possess magical abilities, do not get accepted into Hogwarts. Hogwarts is claimed to be “The best school of witchcraft and wizardry”, it never says it is the only one, and with the introduction of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang in the fourth Harry Potter book, we know it certainly isn’t. As for it being the only school in the UK: witches and wizards not being admitted to Hogwarts actually implies that there is at least one other school. How do these children rejected from Hogwarts learn magic otherwise? Do they have to be home-schooled? What about those subject their parents are unable to teach them? I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be kicked to the curb like “Sorry kid. The magical quill-book combo didn’t write your name down so you can’t learn magic. Like ever. Have a great life now~”. And what about those children into muggle homes? One word: obscurials. The article also says that the book in particular is extremely picky about the names it allows the quill to write into it, and because of this Hogwarts has never admitted a student who does not possess magical abilities. Keep this in mind for a point I will get to a little bit later on.

It's entirely plausible therefore that Ilvermorny would have a way of identifying potential students just like Hogwarts does. Isolt wanted to create a place young witches and wizards could learn magic freely - like the Hogwarts she so wished she could have attended, but I think it would be rather cruel to allow just anyone into this school. Imagine being surrounded by all this mystery and wonder but not being able to partake in it because you are born with no magical abilities. In fact, Isolt’s own daughter eventually cut off the magical world for this very reason (Source). Also, MACUSA would certainly keep tight reigns on the school and its students, and it has been a fair amount of time since Isolt's time at Ilvermorny, so it’s plausible that admittance policies had changed if they had been lax before.

Back to my earlier point about Hogwarts never having admitted a student who does not possess magical abilities. Credence could very possibly fit into the description of someone not being admitted into a magic school. We are not sure how old he was when he was adopted (correct me if I'm wrong), but if he was still very young, living under the strict oppression of Mary Lou Barebone would certainly have a huge negative impact on his magical capabilities. He was cruelly and continuously punished for something he had no control over, and as a result started to internalize what made him different - his magic.

As everyone knows, this is how an Obscurus is formed. It seems almost like an unstated fact now, that Albus Dumbledore's sister -Ariana- was an Obscurial. (source) If this is true, she was already 6 years old before she started repressing her magic. Children born with no magical abilities are known to show signs of magic at first which are like a sort of aftereffect or echo of their parents’ magic, but this eventually wears off. This gives Credence plenty of leeway to be misread as a squib for years under the abuse of his foster mother – especially if he started showing signs of magic at a young age, which he would start repressing due to the abuse he was subjected to.

The people around the Dumblesdores actually thought Ariana was a squib because she never attended Hogwarts (source) her absence from the school acting as further proof that not everyone born with magical abilities is admitted into Hogwarts, and also serving to provide the possibility of her reluctance and later on, inability, to produce consistent and stable magic being misread as her having no magical abilities at all.

This is what happens with Credence. Even Grindelwald himself doesn’t pick up on the fact that Credence actually does have very dangerous magical abilities. In Fantastic Beasts, Graves even tells Credence that he “can smell squib" on him...coincidence? Maybe. Regardless, the point here is that Credence was still able to keep his real magical ability hidden from the greatest dark wizard of that time - while he was literally right under Grindelwald's nose - over and over and over again. The relationship they share serves as proof that they had DEFINITELY been meeting regularly, and for a while. Skills right there.

Another possible reason for him not being admitted into Ilvermorny: He never gets the letter sent to him. We’re not all too sure how admittance to Ilvermorny works for those who are Muggle-born or half-blood. Coming from an all magical family, it’s plausible no one would have come to fetch Credence because his mother and father would have grown up aware of the magical world. There would be no need, because Credence would already have known about it.

In the case of Credence having one muggle parent (there is absolutely no reason for him to NOT be a Pure Blood Wizard by the way - especially because of how against relationships between Witches/Wizards and Muggles/NoMajs the MACUSA is!!!) MACUSA would definitely be keeping an eye on him; especially being aware that Credence was adopted (it wouldn’t make sense for MACUSA not to know this because of their secrecy policies).

**Side note: It’s recently been revealed that Credence seems to be related to the Le Strange family, but could he also be related to Isolt, and therefore to Salazar Slytherin too? Isolt, as we know is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. She is also a descendant of a powerful witch called Morrigan, whose Animagus form is known to have been a crow. (Source) In a clip from the new Fantastic Beasts trailer, we see the Le Strange family tree, which informs us that Credence is a descendant of this lineage. However, under the head of the Le Strange family tree, Corvus (which means Raven by the way) Le Strange - in a little bubble of its own, we see an animal; specifically, a bird. Could this be a reference to a connection to the witch Morrigan? Could this mean that the Le Strange family are descendants of Morrigan? Whose family is married into the Slytherin lineage? This would mean Bellatrix, the Blacks, the Malfoys, the Le Stranges, and therefore Credence are all related (by extension - some more distantly than others) to Lord Voldemort!** But I digress.

However, a child born to two wizard parents, who is orphaned but shows no magical abilities would not be a reason for any concern for the MACUSA. We also need to keep in mind that Tina was demoted because she attacked Mary-Lou Barebone. How and why did Tina get to be involved with Mary-Lou?

In Harry Potter, Dumbledore goes to deliver Tom Riddle’s letter only because he has already been admitted into Hogwarts. The same is true for Hermione Granger. As stated before, students admitted to Hogwarts are actually selected, which makes them special. It therefore makes sense that someone would physically go out to deliver their letters to the selected students who are from mixed or non-magical homes.

Who’s to say this didn’t also happen with Credence? If he was orphaned as a young child, it wouldn’t matter what his blood status is - someone would still need to go out and deliver his letter to him. The children born into these circumstances (having no connections to the magical world) receive a visit from a witch/wizard whose job it is to fill them in.

Mary Lou Barebone is Credence’s adoptive mother and as such she would be the person any message-bearer from Ilvermorny would have to first meet with in order to be able to meet with Credence. This makes it possible that Credence’s acceptance letter, if he did have one, never even reached him.

Dumbledore first meets with the person running the orphanage when he was delivering the letter to Tom Riddle, and then he meets with Tom. Remember, the people around Tom Riddle in the orphanage were unaware of the existence of magic. They just knew that strange things happened when he was around. Mary Lou Barebone, however is fully aware of it. How? Why? Was she aware of it before being most likely deservedly attacked by Tina?

I think she would have no trouble in recognizing magic at all, and she also seems to be the kind of person who would keep a visit about an admittance to a magic school a secret from Credence, and I can definitely see her destroying his letter as well. It would furthermore only serve to fuel her hatred for him, and give her reason to single him out like she does in the Fantastic Beasts movie.

“Ah-huh! But what about the Dursleys being hounded when they tried to prevent Harry from getting his letter?!” I hear you cry. Well, honestly, this thought has occurred to me too, and I think I know what the difference is.

The Dursleys were plagued for trying to hide Harry's letter when he was accepted into Hogwarts, I think, for one simple reason. Dumbledore had an invested interest in Harry. Yes, it is Hagrid who is hounding the Dursleys for preventing Harry from getting his letter, but remember it is Dumbledore who sent Hagrid to fetch Harry in the first place.

He is there to personally drop Harry off on the doorstep of the Dursleys when Harry was a baby and even left a hand-written note for them to read, he has sent at least one other communication to the Dursleys after they had taken Harry in - presumably more (The ”Remember my last” howler Petunia receives in the books implying this), and had a personal connection to Harry's parents through the order of the Phoenix. He even goes so far as ensuring Harry will be kept safe until he comes of age (which is why he has to stay with the Dursleys), and guides Harry (at least some of the time...okay so it’s more like he sort of vaguely suggests it) in what he needs to do or learn to defeat Voldemort. Dumbledore is also personally connected to Neville Longbottom’s parents through the Order of the Phoenix, but he doesn’t do any of this for their son even though Neville could literally have been the Chosen One. This is because Harry is special, an exception. Credence, unlike Harry, doesn’t seem to have anyone like this for him.

So far, we have no reason to think Dumbledore (or anyone else for that matter) would even know about Credence because his birth and childhood have been unmarked by anything out of the ordinary - as far as we are currently aware (such as surviving the killing curse), and being born to a witch/wizard means that at best he is a potential wizard – at worst; a squib. So no one really has any reason to pay any extra attention to him…at least prior to his identity as the Obscurial being revealed.

Grindelwald being interested in an Obscurus would certainly get Dumbledore's attention (even more so if Ariana really was an Obscurial herself) and would bring Credence onto Dumbledore’s radar. Up until the events of the first movie, we have no reason to think that Dumbledore is even aware of Credence’s existence at all. This will most likely change since both characters have been cast in the second movie.

The sad fate that meets Credence (or does it?) could also very well be a part of what drives Dumbledore to get involved in Harry's safe-keeping – preventing what happened with Credence from happening again with Harry.

This seems to create a plot hole: The Dursleys literally mistreat Harry for years but he doesn’t develop an Obscurus. Why? The key difference between Credence’s case and Harry’s case I think, was stated by Ben of The Super Carlin Brothers in their video about why Harry isn’t an Obscurial. “Check it out if you haven’t already.” (source)

My next possibility for Credence not being admitted into Ilvermorny is that Credence himself could be just as likely to decide against going to Ilvermorny; especially because he is a mistreated, impressionable maybe-11 year old at the time who is living with a magic-hating fanatic. It’s possible, with the constant indoctrination from his adoptive mother, that his own abilities could have scared and/or even embarrassed him or felt like a failing, fault or short-coming he has. This would make sense for and give him even more reason to repress his magic – especially since he gets beaten every time he produces anything remotely magical.

The Credence we are introduced to in the movies is much older, and very bitter-hurt-angry. He would have had time to come to realise what type of person Mary Lou Barebone truly is, and freed himself of her conditioning, and this would have been helped along by Grindelwald - he is all for putting Muggles in their rightful place...The Greater Good, and all that.

It is also possible that Credence could hold Mary Lou responsible for him being unable to perform magic, and he could even resent her for it. Add to this the fact that Grindelwald has been visiting Credence in secret which gives him plenty of time to manipulate Credence, and that Credence also secretly longs to be part of the magical world. (source)

He also seems to be able to control or dictate tasks to his Obscurus - at least for short amounts of time (the attacks on senator Shaw, and Mary Lou Barebone), which means he’s obviously found a way to co-exist with it, even if only temporarily. This co-existence is very likely to be part of the reason for his extremely rare long life. I don’t think he’s actually fully aware of how he is able to do this, if he is even aware of it at all - at least by the end of the first movie, because he literally asks for help. Things look to be different in the trailer for the second movie though. (source)

If he is able to control the obscurus, it wouldn’t have been accomplished through magic in the traditional sense since MACUSA do not get involved with Credence (we all know how hung-up they are on the secrecy thing - they would definitely have got involved with a magic kid harbouring an Obscurus being raised by a NoMaj who is not a biological parent), which leads me to believe they were not aware of his magical ability. Graves’ comment about smelling the squib on Credence and being unable to detect the boy’s abilities even though he’d spent who-knows how long together with him, also serves to reinforce this idea of Credence learning to use an unknown of type of magic to coexist with his obscurus, to me.

Obscurus-Obscurial co-habitations are still largely a mystery and there is potentially a ton that is not yet understood about the phenomenon because it is quite simply not yet known. It’s therefore possible that there is no way for Magical ministries to keep tabs on “Obscurus magic”.

After all, leaving a ticking time-bomb that threatens to reveal everything you’re working so hard to keep hidden, unsupervised and primed to go off at any moment seems more than just a tad negligent.

TL;DR: 1. Credence was simply not selected to attend Ilvermorny. 2. Credence was misread as being a squib - something he is certainly misread as being later on in his life, and was therefore not selected to attend Ilvermorny. 3. Credence was selected to attend Ilvermorny, but never received his letter. 4. Credence received his letter, but chose not to attend Ilvermorny.

What do you think? I'd love to know.

#harry potter theory #credence #ilvermorny #mine #harry potter #credence in magic school is a very interesting idea for me #fan theory #credence barebone #jk rowlings wizarding world #fantastic beasts #and where to find them #magic schools #wizard school #why was credence not admitted to ilvermorny #is credence related to lord voldemort?#family tree #le strange #isolt sayre

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orderoftheavengers · 6 years

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The Other Guy

BRUTUS “BRUCE” BANNER

Summary: Ilvermorny potions prodigy, turned giant green werewolf.

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Ilvermorny House: Horned Serpent

Species: Human, werewolf (unique, potion-created breed) Blood status: Muggle-born

Wand: Womping Willow wood, 15 inches, unicorn tail hair

Broom: Tinderblast (not the fastest, but the most durable)

Familiar: Cute little barn owl named Ruffalo/Ruffles

Specialty: Potions

Patronus: Brown Bear

A New Kind of Werewolf

When Brutus "Bruce" Banner was in his first year at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he was taking potions class with the sixth years. His house was Horned Serpent, the egghead house. He was dating Zarabeth "Betty" Ross, of Thunderbird (the "warrior" house), daughter of auror Thaddeus Ross. For his final project of his first year, Bruce was working on an assignment that involved creating a potion that would grant the drinker some impressive powers. Wanting to go above and beyond, Bruce tried to re-create the super-auror serum that had resulted in Steve "the Captain" Rodgers.

Now, mixing the saliva of a werewolf and the blood of a troll into the Polyjuice potion, adding a dash of Doxy venom, a few hairs from a Metamorphmagus, and dropping in a dragon scale to finish it off, and then testing this concoction on yourself probably doesn't sound like a very Horned Serpent or Ravenclaw thing to do. But for an eleven-year-old, Bruce was showing some stunning genius, and took more precautions than most first years in his place would've.

Still, the results were catastrophic. And green. And furry.

On the Run

Thaddeus Ross became obsessed with "containing" the "monster," or worse. (Which is obviously kind of fucked up, since Bruce was still not even twelve yet.) Obviously the Ministry of Magic wasn't going to let Thaddeus kill a kid, but even they couldn't completely control the overzealous auror. Thaddeus's daughter Betty helped Bruce flee Ivermorny. Bruce tried hiding out in some magical communities at first, but soon discovered that the more magic there was around him, the more likely he was to lose control. Maybe it was physical contact with extra magic that made the wolf harder to control, or maybe it was just the stress of being in a community where everyone knew what he was. But in any case, Bruce fled the wizarding world, and lived among muggles in various foreign countries, usually in the sketchiest parts of the cities. A muggleborn, Bruce was already somewhat estranged from his parents, and didn't feel much loss in cutting contact with them.

While hiding out in a muggle favela in Brazil, he kept regular owl-contact with a mysterious pen-pal who went by "Professor Blue," who helped Bruce come up with temporary antidotes for his condition. The now twelve-year-old wizard supported himself mixing colorful paints for those kickass favela buildings, and made a few friends. His next-door-and-one-square-up neighbor was a snake who apparently knew Harry Potter. (Communication between Bruce and his scaly neighbor was limited though, as Bruce didn't speak Parselmouth and the Snake could barely write in Portuguese.) Thaddeus eventually found Bruce, and rode into battle astride a Portugues Longsnout. The dragon's flames however had no affect on the giant green werwolf. Fortunately, no muggles were hurt in the battle, except a group of drug lords who'd just assumed they were hallucinating and didn't get out of the way. Bruce fled into the rain-forest, where he transformed back into a human. He wandered alone for a while until he happened on a friendly chuppacabra that agreed to give him a lift. The chuppacabra didn't speak Protuguese, but told Bruce in Spanish that he wasn't in Brazil anymore. Figuring hiding out wasn't working, Bruce decided to go back to Ivelmorny where most of his old research was, and continue working on a cure. The chuppacabra gave Bruce a ride all the way back to the States, stopping for a few portions of goat for lunch along the way. Bruce reunited with Betty, and together they traveled overseas to Hogwarts to meet "Professor Blue." How did Bruce figure that was where Blue would be? Well in all his letters he kept mentioning "tea" and "ugly Christmas jumpers," and regularly had to be reminded that the asshole chasing Bruce was not a "Slytherin." When they finally met, Blue--actually a forth year named Samuel Sterns--was very disappointed to learn his cover had been blown so easily. (It appears that while Ravenclaws are usually brilliant in some areas, a lot of them lack some ingenuity outside the lab.) While the three worked on finding a cure for Bruce, the Sorting Hat dropped by to inform Betty that she was a Gryffindor, and Bruce a Ravenclaw. (Betty had a mind for science yes, but that was overriden by the courage and fortitude she'd inherited from her homicidally brave father; it takes a Gryffindor to go after a Hulk, and an even bigger Gryffindor to love one.)

Ross caught up to them again, now with a Chinese Fireball. A massive battle ensued all over Hogwarts' grounds. While on his defensive rampage, Wolf-Hulk wound up toppling a few castle towers, uprooting the Whomping Willow, and flinging the Giant Squid through the wall of the Great Hall (insert sushi joke). The Quidditch pitch was also pretty much decimated. This was not a good day for groundskeeper Argus Filch. The battle finally ended when Professor Neville Longbottom (now teaching herbology) announced via microphone-wand-spell that if Thaddeus didn't break off his attack ASAP, he'd call the Ministry on him and he'd have all of his medals and mustache confiscated indefinitely. The Ministry of Magic had arrived by then, and took Betty and Bruce into custody.

Unbeknown to our heroes, a neighbor back at the favela named Emil Blonsky had witnessed Bruce transform into "the incredible green furry," and was overcome with awe and envy. He tracked the heroes to Hogwarts, and cornered Sterns in his lab, demanding the Ravenclaw transform him into a badass like Bruce. Sterns immediately replied, "Holy balls, you look JUST like that guy from 'Four Roo--'" Blonsky's hand around his throat cut him off. Sterns reluctantly agreed to inject Blonsky with Bruce's blood, and then ran for cover (all the way down to the dungeons, past some Slytherins entering thier common room, and diving under a green-and-silver sofa where Tony Stark was reading a dirty "Veela" magazine).

Blonsky transformed not into a green wolf-ogre, but instead, an orange ogre-troll. He bellowed, "I AM ABOMINATION BITCHES!!!!" to the un-phased Hogwarts populace (who witnessed stuff like this every other week), and then promptly began smashing down the towers, Quidditch stadium and Whomping Willow that Argus Filch had just finally finished repairing.

Everyone in Hogwarst was quickly evacuated to Hogsmeade, so Bruce could smash-fight Abomination without worrying too much about collateral damage. Betty however secretly stayed behind, and at the end of the battle, begged Bruce not to kill Abomination.

"Bruce please, he's already died in 'Reservoir Dogs'..."

"Huh?"

"I AM NOT TIM ROTH!"

Bruce punched Blonsky, shutting him up.</b>

The Ministry of Magic quickly arrived to the scene and transformed Blonsky/Abomination into a ferret, before taking him into custody. Ross was about to order his dragon to blast another fireball at the Hulk-Wolf; but seeing human Bruce hugging his daughter, Ross finally admitted to himself, "Maybe there is something a little bit wrong with trying to kill or arrest a twelve-year-old..." The Ministry still wanted Bruce in custody though, and Bruce was forced to flee again after bidding Betty a tear-jerker farewell. After the credits, Thaddeus then went to the Three Broomsticks to get drunk and smoke a cigar; Tony Stark attempted to make a cameo, but didn't get one sentence out before Rosmerta noticed the firwewisky margarita in the underage Slytherin student's hand, and chucked him out.

Order of the Avengers

Bruce went back to hiding out amongst muggles, this time in Asia. The stress of trying to keep the wolf repressed resulted in half a head of gray hair before the poor little wizard was old enough to be bar-mitzvahed. Things got so low that at one point, he stood before a mirror and attempted to cast Avada Kadavara on himself. The "other guy" spit the green death-blast out (incinerating a nearby adult video store and causing a mass UFO conspiracy in the area). So he got passed his depression, and moved on by helping people. He used his magic to cure diseases for sick muggles in the slums of the third world, ignoring the Ministry's rules completely. Then one day, a redhead confronted him with a wand, and introduced herself as Natasha Romanoff. She wasn't here to kill him. She was here to recruit him for the Order of the Avengers. The program was at Hogwarts, so he'd have to go back to school; but at least it wouldn't be the school where his accident had happened, with all the bad memories. Bruce finally gave in, and began classes as a third-year Ravenclaw. Bruce contributed both brains and brawn to the Order, and became "potions bros" with Tony Stark. Bruce learned the hard way that while Ravenclaws and Slytherins make great lab partners, the latter can be a very bad influence on the former. If Bruce had a knut for every time Tony talked him into some experiment that backfired on them, he'd be richer than Harry Potter.

Bruce's other closest friend was fellow Ravenclaw Natasha, who had once been brainwashed by Death Eaters. She and Bruce bonded over the fact that at heart, they're both Ravenclaws, but have been transformed into some kind of monster or another against their will. They began dating, but no one's sure if they're still a thing, or if it was just a fling.

Detention With the Grand Master

In his final year at Hogwarts, Bruce, along with Thor, had to miss out on the epic illegal Quidditch match the other Avengers arranged. (Fortunately, it sounds like Thor and Bruce didn’t miss much, as the whole “civil war” game was less of a “deep clash of ideals” than a “drunken brawl fueled by Idiot Balls.”)

Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. Actually, most of the Avengers were behind in that class. But when Professor Masters--AKA “the Grand Master”--assigned all the failures to detention in the Dark Forrest, Bruce was the only one studious enough, and Thor the only one concerned with his fighting skills enough, to obediently attend their detention instead of playing Quidditch.

In detention, the Grand Master--Hogwarts’ latest eccentric D.A.D.A. professor--forced various badass students to duel each other, for cheering crowds of cheering centaurs, unicorns, merfolk, and other strange creatures. And while wearing ridiculously fruity gladiator outfits. (And the Grand Master’s henchmen will tell you, forcing a giant green wolf into Roman armor is no cakewalk.) Bruce and Thor had an epic duel, before the werewolf noticed Loki, and made like a pooch chasing a screaming, squealing car.

But the group wound up having to play Hooky after all, with Thor’s homeland at stake. Bruce helped Thor and Loki defeat their evil half-sister Hela, and almost caught himself a break....

As if.

Waning Powers

A regular werewolf will change with the moon no matter what. But Bruce was no regular werewolf. The potion that had transformed him had contained hairs from not only werewolves, but Metamorphmagi as well. And those who knew Nymphadora Tonks know that a Metamorphmagus’s powers can be affected by their mood.

Thanos gave the green wolf such a frightening beating, that the “monster” refused to “come out” afterwards, even when Bruce desperately needed him to. Thus, Bruce was forced to fight like a boring regular wizard, on a broom with a wand. Green asshole.

But after Thanos’s Dusting Curse murders half of Bruce’s friends, and half the universe he’d worked so hard to redeem himself by protecting, the wolf returned full-force...

Professor Wolf

With help from Tony and Shuri, and his own Ravenclaw cleverness, Bruce finally found a way to make peace with “the other guy.” He now walked around in the form of a furry green humanoid, taking the name “Professor Wolf.” Since Thanos’s curse and following tyrannical rule exposed the magical world to the Mugggles, Professor Wolf gained some new Muggle fangirls, mainly from the segments of Muggledom that frequented DeviantArt and Fur Affinity.

Time Travel

Deep in Snape’s old Potions dungeon, Tony, Bruce, Rocket, and Shuri–who was not Dusted!–all get together to brainstorm how to use the Spirit Realm for Time Travel (since Thanos destroyed all the Time Turners).

The four geniuses exchange ingenuity and banter, and it is brilliant. Rocket, a niffler, is enamored with Tony’s chest amulet, and steals it, causing some health problems for Tony. This angers Professor Wolf, who chases the niffler/raccoon hybrid around the lab until he catches him and makes him into a violent chew toy.

Shuri snags Rocket from the Wolf, and the amulet from Rocket. Struck with inspiration, the Wakandan princess makes some adjustments to the amulet, to Tony’s embarrassment and begrudging awe. This leads to a “eureka!” moment for the four of them, in regards to the Time Travel problem, and they finally get it solved.

Ravenclaw to Ravenclaw

Bruce gets the Time Stone from fellow a Ravenclaw, the Ancient One. Not battle or trickery is needed for this one; just honest, Ravencalw-to-Ravenclaw reasoning. When Bruce tells her about Strange sacrificing the Time Stone to save Tony, she realizes what this must mean, and hands the Stone over to Bruce.

After losing the Ravenclaw closest to him--Natasha Romanoff--Bruce is as devastated as Clint. Professor Wolf roars, and tosses a bench into the lake. The kids sitting on the bench, Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley, barely react, as they too were close with Nat and are mourning her. Even the Giant Squid is too sad to be bothered by the littering of his lake.

But later, when Bruce is fighting Thanos in the final battle, something extraordinary happens...

Bruce and the Wolf fight Thanos once more, now together, and wielding the red Infinity Wand. Professor Wolf is struggling to simply turn Thanos and his minions to dust, but it’s one Infinity Wand up against another. As the two Infinity Wands blast against each other, a light begins to glow in the middle of the two spells. Bruce suddenly hears a familiar voice, half in his head. “Bruce, give someone else a turn.” Natasha–or a ghostly version of her–is emerging from the middle of the two Infinity Wands’ spells. “Priori Incantatem!” shouts Shuri, from her blue-and-silver panther broom. “Or something like it! Two sets of Infinity Stones blasting against each other, their past spells are regurgitating!” The moment of shock distracts Bruce long enough for Thanos to blast him to the ground. The grape bastard is about to pick up the other Infinity Wand, but spirit-Nat delivers a kick to his face. It’s not a huge amount of damage–she only has the typical strength of a very angry poltergeist–but it buys enough time for Spidey to swing by and snag up the wand with his web, and the battle continues...

Epilogue

Bruce, Sam and Bucky have a brief scare, when it seems that Steve has massacred the timeline for personal gain; but this false Steve turns out to be only a Boggart. The real Steve has returned just a few minutes after schedule, and has only made one tiny change to the timeline; saving Nat.

Professor Wolf is now in the dungeons of Hogwarts, teaching Potions. Bruce can alternate between any of his three forms at will, and actually tends to teach in his boring, adorkable human form (with only the green tail).

Wand, broom, etc. Ollivander has crafted for Bruce a wand from a branch of the Whomping Willow, the only wood green-Bruce can't instantly snap in half. It contains a unicorn hair. Bruce's broom is a Tinderblast; though not as fast as some other models, it's highly resilient, so Bruce can ride it even if he transforms. Bruce's Patronus is a bear (all Patronuses are silver, so Black, Brown, or Polar isn't really a factor here). His specialty, obviously, is potions--his initial first-year accident notwithstanding. A/N: Bruce was blessedly easy to sort, draw, and write a Potter AU for. Tony and Dr. Strange are too overflowing with Slytherin-style heroism for me to let them go to waste as Ravenclaws, just because they happen to be geniuses. Bruce on the other hand, his personality and powers really do revolve around his mind--even his Hulk related ones.f

#bruce banner #hulk #hogwarts house #ravenclaw #werewolf #chibi #hogwarts #potterverse #harry potter #order of the avengers #incredible hulk #mark ruffalo

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entergamingxp · 4 years

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Pro Cycling Manager 2020 – The Waiting Game

June 4, 2020 11:00 AM EST

How far will one man go to manage the male, digital version of his wife to Tour de France glory in Pro Cycling Manager 2020?

Before we begin, it’s important to make clear that I do not care about nor understand professional cycling. I have, quite literally, never watched a race in my life and am the last person you should be coming to if you’re looking for a review for Pro Cycling Manager 2020. Or any cycling game, for that matter.

However, my wife watches the Tour de France every year with her dad and they take part in local races relatively often. She’s also bad-to-mediocre at video games. She’ll dispute that, but it’s a fact. And so, I decided to put our two brains together and see if we could somehow win the virtual Tour de France. Going in, I felt I had some idea of what was going to happen. I’ve played quite a bit of games like Football Manager and Total Extreme Wrestling. My management experience mixed with my wife’s knowledge was sure to be a winning combo.

At least, that’s what I hoped.

So, this isn’t a review of Pro Cycling Manager 2020. This is one man’s journey to create the male version of his wife and lead her to virtual glory in the greatest cycling race known to man.

Season 1 – What Have I Gotten Myself Into

The first thing I’m greeted with is choosing what type of racer we’ll be building. Honestly, I was hoping for something a little more granular. We were totally planning to go out to the local park and time her cycling to give our racer the most accurate starting stats possible. Heck, my wife even did something she calls “math” to figure out how tall the racer should be in comparison to her. It looked like wizardry to me, but she’s a computer engineer, so I assume she knows what she’s doing.

Anyway, Amos Frech was quickly created as the world’s next great “Stage Racer.” I don’t know what that means, but it sounded better than “Northern Classic” or whatever “Baroudeur” is. Frankly, it seemed like it would only be a matter of time before we could join my wife’s favorite team, Team INEOS. I’m told that’s “where the good ones are from.”

In our first few races, I immediately started to realize I might’ve bitten off more than I can chew. In games like Football Manager, you don’t directly control the on-field action. Instead, you’re setting up tactics and choosing the players to execute on your plans. Maybe the team mode on Pro Cycling Manager is more like this, but in the Pro Cyclist mode, you’re in complete control.

With zero understanding of how the sport works or what any of the terms mean, this feels like one of those nightmares where you wake up in your old high school and are about to have a test that you didn’t study for. And, for some reason, you’re naked.

In our first race, I see an option for something called infinite relay. As far as I know, this could mean your racer hops off the bike to have a cup of tea or he instantly wins the race. It could mean anything and I would believe you. That said, it is, by far, the coolest-sounding option, so, being an idiot who loves action, this becomes my go-to maneuver.

It seems to work decently well. I mean, we’re not winning any races, but we aren’t in last either. Slowly, I start to get objectives in races. Most of these tell me to “get in a breakaway for 100 km.” I read this as “be in first place for two-thirds of the race.” At our current skill level, that’s impossible, so I just ignore them.

By some miracle, I’m able to win a few races during the season. But the most notable thing to happen is seeing a cyclist get ran over by a pacer car. Most of the time you just phase through them and all the other cyclists. However, in one race, he just blows right through him and I get a notification that the racer has “withdrawn.” But we all know they left out “from this mortal coil” at the end of that notification.

We end the first season in one of, what I assume is, the bigger races in our division. I assume this because members of Team INEOS are here. My wife’s favorite dude Chris Froome is, unsurprisingly, not one of them. However, I go for a good showing in the hopes that these men will tell their senpai tales of Amos Frech’s dominance and get us a spot on the team.

Amos gets 31st and we’re on to season two.

Season 2 – Lesson From The Past

Heading into season two, I start to think about how my dad must have felt when he realized he had a soccer-playing child. My old man had probably never even seen a soccer ball before randomly signing me up for the U4 league. However, he quickly realized that his abnormally tall three-year-old was going to be half-decent at this weird British sport.

Much like three-year-old me, Amos is unquestionably skilled. He is one of the best in the world already at climbing mountains and whatever “prologue” is. However, I don’t understand the strategy of the game and cannot consistently guide him to victory.

Well, just like my dad once picked up a book on how to play soccer, I too will pursue knowledge. And so, I do the modern-day equivalent of reading and watch some YouTube tutorials. I know now what a breakaway is and somewhat understand how to correctly set myself up for success in races. It’s time to finally turn that corner and become the racer we’re meant to be.

However, there’s a problem. See, as I mentioned above, Pro Cycling Manager isn’t a “set it and forget it” kind of game. If Football Manager is the Easy-Bake Oven style of management sims, Pro Cycling Manager is more like working in a high-class restaurant that requires everything to be perfect.

Except, in this analogy, nobody comes to your restaurant. So, on your eight-hour shift, you’re maybe doing ten minutes of actual work. The rest of the time you’re just fiddling with your cell phone, watching the world burn on Twitter. While that ten minutes of actual cooking is pure bliss, the rest of the time is something between boring and distressing because you’re realizing you could be doing something much better with your time.

Pro Cycling Manager requires you to watch entire races where you don’t really have to do anything until the last 20 kilometers of a race. Sure, you can speed it up, but it’s still mostly boring. And even when you’re outside of the races, you’re just staring at the screen watching all the other races sim.

Honestly, Steam says I’ve played Pro Cycling Manager for roughly 40 hours now, but realistically, I’ve probably only “played” the game for four or five of those hours. For the most part, I’m just sitting around waiting to do something.

At this point, it’s not a question of “can Amos win the Tour de France?” It’s a question of “can I mentally stay engaged long enough?” Amos’ body is willing, but my brain? Not so much.

So, sure, Amos pulls out all the stops and wins three smaller tours in his second season. He even moves up into the next division and joins a more prestigious team. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to see out the final victory.

Season 3 – The One That Breaks Me

I tried everybody. I really did. There’s just only so much sitting and staring at men riding bicycles at hyper-speed that one man can take. Sure, Amos is quickly moving toward a spot in the Tour de France, but this third season has broken down my will to continue. What started as a fun lark has become borderline soul-crushing. It’s just so much waiting.

To be clear, I’m not saying Pro Cycling Manager 2020 is bad. If you like cycling and want to play a management sim, this is probably the best way to do that. Granted, I’m far from an expert, so what do I know?

It’s also worth noting again that I only played the Pro Cyclist mode. In that mode, you don’t have complete control of your team. Meaning it was very difficult to set up sprint trains (see, I learned something!) at the end of races. It also meant that there was no way for me to use my other cyclists to pick up points in other ways besides winning races. So, playing in that mode could easily mitigate my boredom. I’ll just never know if that’s the case.

So, no, Amos Frech will never become the best cyclist in the world. And yes, I can’t remember playing a more consistently boring game than Pro Cycling Manager 2020. However, until it just got to be too much, I’ve never had so much fun playing something so tedious. If that’s not a ringing endorsement from someone who literally couldn’t care less about cycling, then I don’t know what is.

June 4, 2020 11:00 AM EST

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/06/pro-cycling-manager-2020-the-waiting-game/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=pro-cycling-manager-2020-the-waiting-game

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sportsleague365 · 5 years

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Manchester United host Liverpool at Old Trafford on Sunday in a clash that is more hyped than the Carabao Cup final it precedes and both clubs will be hoping to claim three all-important points. The Red Devils’ exceptional run of form might have hit a stumbling block in their 2-0 loss to PSG in the Champions League last week, but they got right back on track with a comfortable victory over Chelsea in the FA Cup 5th round. Jurgen Klopp’s side meanwhile, will be looking to produce a far more clinical performance than the one they put in on Tuesday – the Reds’ lacklustre finishing meant Bayern Munich left Anfield with a truly undeserved clean sheet. Regardless of the bitterness between the two long-time rivals, the clash is of enormous importance to both in the Premier League – United will be aiming to leave fifth placed Arsenal in the dust while Liverpool can go top of the standings. This week’s expert fans, the TT‘s United apologist Alex Rigby and Football League World assistant editor and Liverpool nut George Dagless, offer their predictions ahead of the Super Sunday battle… If you’re Jurgen Klopp, who partners Virgil van Dijk in defence out of Fabinho and Joel Matip? George: “I’d not be surprised if Fabinho actually played there because he looks a decent centre-half but, by virtue of me thinking he’s going to be in midfield, Matip starts. “Van Dijk is the leader and Matip benefits from that, I think together they are a decent enough partnership and I’ve no issues with them going in together – nor do I if the Brazilian ended up alongside our number 4.” Alex: “It’s a tough one because Fabinho has been performing very, very well in defence. But I’d have to say Matip. The big man is decent enough to partner alongside the league’s best centre-back and make it work – despite it being a less than ideal situation. “Fabinho’s services will be needed in midfield as well. He performed excellently in the reverse fixture and there’s every chance he’ll be the man set up to nullify Paul Pogba.” Indeed, former Monaco man Fabinho has impressed at the heart of defence in Dejan Lovren and Joe Gomez’s stead despite being a holding midfielder by trade. Deputising for the suspended van Dijk against Bayern, the 25-year-old cut a composed figure and the timing of his tackling was exemplary. While he may grow to be a better option at centre-half than Matip, the Reds will sorely miss Fabinho’s physical presence at the base of midfield if he does continue in defence against United. As Alex says, he will be instrumental if the Anfield outfit are to shut down the increasingly influential Pogba. United’s victory over Chelsea in the FA Cup saw Marcus Rashford and Romelu Lukaku deployed up front, with Juan Mata as the No.10. Is this the best trio? Alex: “Yes and no. What United did at Chelsea was remarkable and every player had their part to play. However, there were glaring signs that Lukaku doesn’t really suit United’s new style of play under Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. He’s no way near gifted enough technically, I think everyone can see that. “The club now rely on rapid transitions from defence to attack, much like the old days under Sir Alex Ferguson, and if you’ve got Lukaku ballooning his touch into row-z it doesn’t really work. “Mata on the other hand looks far better in the central role compared to when he plays right-wing. Clearly, Solskjaer has realised far quicker than Jose Mourinho that Mata’s lack of pace really doesn’t suit the position.” George: “I don’t think it is with the way Solskjaer likes to play. “Mata is a fantastic footballer and does well against us invariably so he might feature but all fit United probably aren’t going to use him as much under the Norwegian. “He wants pace and directness and for me their best three are Martial, Marcus Rashford and Jesse Lingard. Obviously, Martial and Lingard face late fitness calls but could be available and I’d say that’s their best attack.” It has become apparent in Solskjaer’s short reign that strikers of Lukaku’s mould don’t exactly fit perfectly into the Norwegian’s system. Instead, the sight of Rashford on the shoulder and running in behind to latch onto a Pogba pass and slot home has become a regular one – the England international’s mobility makes him far more suited to Solskjaer’s style than Lukaku but that hasn’t stopped the ‘Baby-faced Assassin’ from fitting the former Everton man into his side. Is this Liverpool’s biggest test of the season so far considering the nervy performance against Bayern on Tuesday and United’s resurgence? George: “No. But it’s up there, as it is any season when it’s United. “I’d say the game at the Etihad was bigger this season – which obviously didn’t go well – and the home game against Napoli given what was riding on it – and that did go well. “I think the Bayern result could have been far worse – if you can’t win at home in Europe don’t concede – and so I don’t think that places any more onus on us winning this one. “It’s Manchester United against Liverpool, anyway, this is one you’ll always be up for.” Alex: “Manchester United and Tottenham stand in the way of the one trophy Liverpool truly care about – the Premier League. It’s been nearly 30 years since they last won the title, far longer than their relatively recent Champions League success. “It’ll be a test of bottle and skill on Sunday, and the biggest one yet, no doubt.” Aside from a much-improved defence, the major improvement Klopp’s side has made is that they have learned how to win at all costs – see clashes against Brighton and Crystal Palace, where the Reds had to dig deep to grind out a result. Unfortunately, that ruthlessness was lacking in their stalemate with the Bundesliga champions on Tuesday, with many players guilty of missing glorious chances to give the Reds the lead – Sadio Mane screwed wide his side’s best chance of the game as the ball fell to him in the box. A loss to United this weekend could be disastrous for Liverpool psychologically, if not in terms of their title hopes. While it has to be said the Red Devils are a far improved team since the two sides last met, the Reds will surely accept nothing other than a win. This game will be far more of an even contest than the 3-1 Liverpool win in December, where the Reds were dominant in midfield. Can United match or better them in the middle of the park this time? Alex: “Liverpool’s midfield isn’t better than Manchester United’s, especially when you have Pogba dropping in there to perform some wizardry. “Of course, they certainly had the edge on them back in December but how much of that was down to players giving up on the manager? “You’ve got to say that the way United are pressing now isn’t much different from Klopp’s style, and the players they have in their lineup should have the technical edge on the day. Ander Herrera relishes these types of games and he’s playing incredibly at the moment. Will be the difference on the day.” George: “They have a better chance but they’re still not as mobile. “Paul Pogba is obviously the big difference – Liverpool don’t have a midfielder like him in terms of the goals and assists he can bring from the middle of the park and so the Reds must keep him quiet. “Is he still disciplined in the biggest games, though? He was shown up against PSG and so he is far from infallible. “Herrera and Nemanja Matic look to be the sitting two and they are good at what they do but players can run off them – and the likes of Gini Wijnaldum breaking lines should hopefully cause them issues.” World Cup winner Pogba has chalked up eight goals and five assists since Solskjaer’s United revolution began and is finally looking like the player the Old Trafford outfit were expecting to get when they spent big to bring him back from Juventus. It hasn’t been a perfectly smooth ride for the Frenchman since Mourinho’s departure, though – the 25-year-old was sent off against PSG and, in losing his temper, could cost his side again if Liverpool don’t give him the time on the ball he craves. The Reds will likely swarm the number 6’s every touch and limit his influence on the game to the best of their ability. While the rest of the team have undergone huge transformations too, it seems that if you can stop Pogba you can more or less stop United. Mixed fortunes for English sides in the Champions League so how far off are they from dominating Europe’s top table? The Pl>ymaker FC squad discuss in the video below… Finally, what are your score predictions? Alex: “3-2 United.” George: “My heart says we spark into life and outclass them, 2-0. Head says 1-1.” #JoelMatip #VirgilVanDijk #SadioMane

#JoelMatip #VirgilVanDijk #SadioMane

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