#doing the actual little portrait study and then trying to apply that to make it work in “my style” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherryatiny · 3 years

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𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭

GIFs are not mine, credit goes to their respective owner

❁ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

It was no secret that your sugar daddy Hongjoong is a born aristocrat, as his rich taste in everything showed up a lot. Ever since a young age, he was taught to love art in all its forms. When his grandparents passed away sadly, he was the chosen one to inherit the prestigious art gallery their family ran for more than 7 decades.

Although he wasn't an artist of the top level, his love to express himself through art never died. So the very first day he took over the gallery, the first thing he ordered his subordinates to do, was to clear out the smaller room in the back of the director's office.

Soon after, he designed the space to an art studio of his liking, where he could freely spend his free time painting, reconstructing clothes, or just rest while stimulating his brain to function more creatively.

Soon after he met you and you two got into the sugar daddy relationship, he found his muse in you. At first, it started by him just taking pics of you at the moments he deemed to be artsy, not long after that he however started calling you to his little studio in the gallery he ran. Always making you sit or lay down on the old valuable settee, that looked like the ones from Renaissance paintings.

Taking you by your hand, he showed you the paintings of the new exhibition he was preparing. The paintings harmonized well, all of them tuned in a dark abstract setting. Loosening your hand out of his grip, you grasped his wrist the same he did with your often, dragging him to the office. He was slightly taken by surprise as he did not expect you to drag him there since you haven't agreed on him painting you today. „Lay down, for today, you'll be my muse Joongie.“

He was laying on the settee, looking up at the ceiling, so his side-profile was fully visible to you, as you painted him on the canvas. Mixing colours to your liking, you made the portrait of your Hongjoong look abstract, as it matched the art style he often used.

After hours of painting, when you did the last line with your paintbrush, you sighed out tiredly, wiping the sweat off your forehead as you observed your creation. „My muse, you can come here and admire yourself on the canvas.“ Standing up swiftly, he came over to you, leaning forward, his arm wrapping around the shoulder of your sitting self as he was all eyes on the painting.

„It's... spectacular. I- I'm at a loss of words, why did you never tell me you had a talent for painting my darling? If I added this painting to the exhibition there, I can guarantee you, that this will be the most favoured painting in my gallery.“

❁ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

You don't even know why you applied to become Seonghwa's secretary a few months ago, considering you've never worked in this type of branch. But it was probably the best decision of your life because if you wouldn't have applied for the secretary position, you wouldn't have met your sugar daddy Seonghwa.

At first, the work was a disaster as your relationship with your boss didn't start off very well. He was giving you tons of work to do, the stupidest arrangements that were completely unnecessary to make, or the most boring workshops and meetings to take you to with him.

But after the one night at a business conference in Milan when you two got closer than one would expect you to and got into the sugar daddy relationship, his attitude to you drastically changed.

Your secret relationship also made him give you easier and different tasks to do, he as well deemed you to be more reliable than before, which resulted in him giving you free hand in literally everything. He was actually taken aback by how competent you were at your tasks. Doing everything you were told to do, ten times better than he would have probably done.

One night, as you two were cuddling on the couch in his place while looking out of the large glass wall with the sighting of the whole town, he spoke out, „Y/N why didn't you tell me you had such talent for scheduling, strategic planning and business stuff? I should have made you the director of strategic planning or something like that. But then... I get to be closer to you when you're my secretary, my beautiful baby.“

❁ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

„Ah, shit! The actress who was supposed to play the walk-on in the hospital scene with Yunho, can't get here as something happened to her. What do we do now?“ yelled the director out of frustration as the actress announced she can't arrive just a few minutes before they were supposed to shoot.

You were just finishing your sugar daddy Yunho's outfit for the shoot as you were the main costumer for this k-drama. Yunho stood up from his seat as you finished his stylist, bending down to plant a kiss on your lips, before going over to the director with a worried look on his usually joyful face.

You were clearing off the stuff you used on him back to where it belonged to. Eyeing Yunho talk with the director from distance, the two of them occasionally flashing looks at you. When they stopped talking, Yunho jogged to you with the beaming smile you knew that well on his face. His puppy-like features always flashed out when he had any good news, giving him the look that was asking him what he wanted to say.

„Get changed. You've got the role of the girl who's missing.“ you raised your eyebrows at what he just said, taken aback as you did not really understand what he was talking about. You and acting? „Come on, get dressed, we don't have much time. Here's the script.“ handing you the bunch of papers and the outfit the girl was supposed to wear, he motioned for you to go to the changing room.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead as you went away from the shooting site. „Wow, ms. Y/N, are you sure you didn't study acting? Although it was supposedly your first time acting, it was so natural. Wow, I'm glad Yunho showed you to me, you are for real like a hidden gem. Would you... maybe be interested in any more acting in future?“ asked the director with a glance of hope in his eyes after you finished shooting the small part in the k-drama your sugar daddy was starred in. Looking at him, wondering what Yunho's opinion was, the proud and encouraging smile on his face hinting that he really wanted you to accept the offer made by his boss.

„I'm so proud of you princess. My little talented actress, I love you.“

❁ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

Groaning softly, you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, looking at the empty spot beside you. You were sleeping at Yeosang's home, but as you could see, he didn't seem to be sleeping. Slipping your feet into the fluffy slippers with rabbit eyes, you wrapped your body tighter in Yeosang's shirt you were sleeping in, as the air was rather cool.

Opening the door of his bedroom, you went down the stairs of his apartment, down to the living room where a small table lamp was lit. Your sleepy sugar daddy sitting by the desk covered in many papers that seemed to be related to his prosecutor work.

Approaching him, you caressed his shoulder, which woke him up from his quick nap, „Mhm, Y/N. You can go back to sleep, I'll be there soon, I just have to finish this.“ You knew well that that wasn't the case and he won't be there soon. Sighing, you wrapped your arms around his neck, sitting down on his lap, his hand caressing your exposed thighs. „What are you working on, Yeo?“

„I'm treading through the case files, but I just can't take the next step. The police want me to indict him of murder, but the defendant is justifying himself saying that it was an accident and that he should be only indicted of manslaughter.“ Taking the case files from his hand, you read through them since your unbiased opinion might be of help to him.

Taking a pen from his desk, you underlined the facts you thought were important in your lay opinion. Handing it to him, he read focused on the underlined sentences, his eyes lighting up in hope. „Oh my god, Y/N. You're the saviour of my life, this is the core issue but it hasn't even struck up to me. I love you so much, my little prosecutor.“

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

„Sannie, could you please tie my swimsuit?“ you held your hair in a ponytail so it did not get into the way as San tied the ribbon on the back of your swimsuit. You smiled at him as a way to say thank you, leaving the hotel suite your sugar daddy San reserved for you two to enjoy your vacation to the fullest.

San took your hand in his, your fingers intertwining as you walked down the hotel's luxurious corridors to the private beach. „Now, what does my beautiful baby plan on doing today?“ questioned san as he pulled you to him as close as possible. „Hm, I don't know, I'll probably do nothing all day long, just lay on the beach and sunbathe.“

„Then I'll keep you company while you do your nothing.“ giggles were leaving you two as you talked more while on the way to the sea. But as you started nearing the beach, loud dance music coming from the speakers. „What's that...?“ As you got to the beach, a group of people was doing dance work-outs there to the rhythm of the music.

„I have no idea what they are doing, but let's try Y/N“ and without giving you a chance to protest, San tugged you there by your wrist, right to the centre of the imaginary dance floor. He started dancing just as the instructor did, gesturing you to do the same.

Soon after you submitted to his nagging, doing the same as him to the rhythm of the energetic music. „Y/N, you're doing so well. Would I have known about your talent to dance, I would have taken you to some studio a long ago.“

❁ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

After that one ball, you two met together at, you got invited to countless more balls to keep your boss company. Over that many times you two spent together, you get to know each other more and more until eventually, he somehow became your sugar daddy and boyfriend in one.

Tonight was very special, Mingi as the chairman of one of the biggest conglomerates in the country, got invited to the ball held by the president for the most influential people in the country. And when he stopped by your apartment with a beautiful night-robe, a pair of brand-new heels and a golden envelope with the letter of invitation in it, you almost fainted from the delight you felt.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but watch you like a movie on nights like this. Because you seemed so interested in these events, that it truly amazed him how you could act so interested in the talk of the attendants when it bore him to death. You just seemed so natural at attending events like this, you could dance, you knew all the protocol rules, you could pretend interest or know how to answer to the business talk others often held with you. He just couldn’t help but admire the talent you had for the formal events.

Excusing you from their speech, Mingi wrapped his arms around your waist, taking you to the middle of the dance floor as your favourite dance song was playing. Moving slowly, you melted into his touch as you enjoyed each other’s presence dancing the slow dances. „I'm amazed my dear Y/N, I can't bring myself to be interested in talking to these egoistic geezers for more than 5 minutes. Thank god I have you, my talented princess.“

❁ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

When you spent the night at your sugar daddy Wooyoung’s place, you usually weren’t allowed to even be near the kitchen as he insisted “he treats his princess food and she shouldn’t cook, because what if she cuts herself?” so today, as he had to rush to the work early in the morning because of some urgent, leaving you in his immense mansion alone.

And that meant you had a free pass to cook something in his kitchen. But seeing how emptied his fridge was, you opted for something more simple in a form of stir-fried tofu with vegetables. Washing the fresh vegetables thoroughly, you dried them, placing them on the breadboard, to cut them. All of his knives were sharp as Wooyoung was doing his best to keep his kitchen in the best state.

Throwing the tofu cubes onto the pan with a heated droplet of olive oil, you stirred them until they roasted into golden colour, adding the cut vegetables and cooking rice in the meanwhile. Not at all realizing that there was a pair of eyes watching you from the doorframe.

Leaving you like that, Wooyoung in the meanwhile went to change into some sweatpants and a t-shirt, maybe a quick shower. And so when he came back, you were already turning off the stove. „Well, well, well, what do I see? Looks like someone used my kitchen behind my back.“

You jumped in your place lightly, your breathing heavy at how startled you were upon Wooyoung talking to you out of nowhere. „Jung Wooyoung, for how long have you been there?“ he put on a grimace, pretending to be pondering over it. „Probably ever since you added the veggies to eat and started singing to those annoying songs.“

„They’re not annoying, you’re just too old to understand them. Anyway, if you want to nag at me for using your kitchen, do it after you taste my delicious meal. Seems like you were in rush this morning, so you probably haven’t eaten anything“ Placing the plate in front of him, you sat opposite of him, waiting to see what his reaction would be as he had never tasted your cookings before.

„Mhmm, are you sure you’ve cooked it yourself? If so... why have I never let you in my kitchen, when this is so delicious? Gosh, my princess is such a good cook.“ Your smile was full of delight at his compliment as you watched him stuff his mouth full of your food.

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

„Y/N, I’m going to the restroom, you’ll wait for me, right?“ you nodded, watching your sugar daddy Jongho leave the studio. Standing up, you sat down on the now-emptied armchair in front of the PC screens, your eyes scanning the colourful music segments on the screen.

You picked up the sheaf of papers with the notes to his newest song, along with the lyrics he’s written himself. Your eyes ran over the notes and the lyrics and as you were re-reading the text for the 3rd time, you started humming to it, trying to get the right melody Jongho was intending on having in the song.

Opening the door to the studio, Jongho noticed you sitting on the chair, your back turned to him and that resulted in you still being oblivious to his presence. And he didn’t dare to make a move, standing in the door-frame and watching you humming to the song in amazement that you weren’t tone-deaf like most non-musical people were, as you hit all the tones.

„Woah Y/N, are you a trained singer or something? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at music? I would have taken you here long time ago...“

❁ taglist : @galaxteez @gyubaby @bobateastay @tinytinyblogs @ateezinmymind @chososchaos @cvtiehoon @a-soft-hornytiny

#IT'S SHITTY I'M SORRY #I PLANNED IT BEFORE HAND BUT I STILL HAD WRITERS BLOCK #ateez #sugar daddy!ateez #ateez sugar daddy au #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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Lila Rossi: I’d Say She’s a Good Villain, but Then I’d Be Lying (300 Follower Special)

Deception and cunning are easily two of the most important traits an antagonist could have. It shows that even if they don't have the strength to overcome obstacles, their wit is more than enough. This kind of trait is why characters like Lex Luthor, David Xanatos, and Princess Azula are so beloved, simply because of how intelligent they can be as villains and pose a real threat to the heroes.

It's clear that the Miraculous Ladybug writers want Lila to be seen as this, but the writing seriously fails to back that claim up.

Easily one of the most controversial characters in Miraculous Ladybug is Lila, mainly for the writing surrounding her. But there was a time where she was actually more of an ambiguous character, mainly for the lack of screentime she had until Season 3. But unfortunately, the more appearances she's had have painted a very poor portrait of an antagonist.

Lila's Tragic and Sympathetic Motivation for Hating Ladybug

Lila's first appearance was at the tail end of Season 1, “Volpina”. She was a new transfer student from Italy, and quickly made friends with a lot of her classmates for the lies she told, including being friends with Ladybug (which Alya blindly believed without doing any research like any excellent journalist). But because of how close she was getting to Adrien, Marinette, in a rare act of selfishness, transforms into Ladybug just to chew out Lila for lying about knowing her, humiliating her in front of Adrien. And this is the only motivation we get for what Lila does afterwards.

I'm not saying that it's wrong for Lila to get upset at Ladybug for doing this, and I like the moment of weakness Marinette has, but this is literally the only explanation we get for Lila deciding to side with Hawkmoth, a literal terrorist. As much as I hated the way the arc turned out, I could still understand Chloe siding with Hawkmoth, as it was clear that Hawkmoth was manipulating her and taking advantage of her ego. Lila? Ladybug's mean to her one time, and that inspires her to conspire with a complete stranger who brainwashes people to attack the city, which endangers innocent people and causes God knows how much in collateral damage if not for Miraculous Ladybug fixing everything.

I just don't get how a single negative interaction with someone is enough to conspire with a literal supervillain. Even in Season 3, when Marinette and Lila truly became enemies, it was because she risked exposing all the lies she told, which could damage her reputation. Sure, it's petty, but it makes sense for Lila to want to keep up the illusion. If she was simply an antagonist to Marinette in her civilian life like Chloe was before “Miracle Queen” , I'd be fine with that, but the writers clearly want her to be seen as on the same level of evil as Hawkmoth. I'll get into why that doesn't work later on.

Why Lila is an Excellent Liar

In my Master Fu analysis, I had pointed out that despite all the flaws he had, the narrative insisted on portraying him as an incredibly wise mentor. The same problem applies for Lila as well. We're supposed to see Lila as an expert manipulator and liar, but her lies are insultingly obvious. She always claims to be friends with celebrities and does all these awesome things, and in an age where we can have almost any question answered thanks to the internet, nobody ever stops to question her.

It's even more frustrating when you hear Lila talk about saving Jagged Stone's cat, when Jagged Stone is established to be very fond of Marinette (evidentially more than his own daughter), and nobody ever points that out. I think if Lila's lies were more stories about her travels around the world than outright lies about real people, it could have worked. It'd still be hard to believe, but it's something.

But this is a problem with writing shows aimed at children. As much as we hate writers who need to spell out things to kids, sometimes, they just don't understand some of the media they consume. Seriously, I never got this joke in SpongeBob as a kid, and I can't believe Nickelodeon actually approved this.

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So the dilemma when writing a show with children in mind is finding that sweet spot between assuming your audience can figure it out, but not being too vague in your details. It's even harder when you need to find a way to convey the fact that someone is lying without being too obvious. Unfortunately, the show clearly fails to do that

Okay, this is going to sound like an incredibly weird thing to cite, and I only know about it because I used to know someone who was a huge fan of the franchise, but the movie Monster High: Friday Night Frights does a better job of subtly explaining to the audience that a character is lying. Please, just hear me out.

The movie follows the main characters competing in their high school's roller derby for the season after everyone on the usual team gets injured, and the championship match is against another school whose team tends to cheat to win matches. How they manage to do this without getting caught is anyone's guess. While the main characters are practicing, their coach, Clawd, notices a spy for the enemy team taking video of them to study their moves. In response, he calls over one of the athletes, Operetta, to chew her out for her showboating attitude. In reality, he's alerting her to the spy. Only using facial expressions, he clues her, and by extension, the audience, in on the fact that they know what the opposing team is trying to do.

This soon leads to Operetta pretending to tell the enemy team about their secret plan for the championship match, which was really an attempt to outsmart them to gain the advantage in the final stretch. The brilliance of this is how the audience is informed of this with no dialogue, and there's no scene afterwards spelling it out for those who don't get it. It manages to convey deception without being too obvious that Clawd and Operetta are being deceitful.

I think if there were more subtle hints to show the audience Lila was lying, she would be seen in a better light. As it is, Lila's lies are just pathetic, and it's ridiculous that everyone believes her. Which leads me to...

Lila, the Master Manipulator

I once read a Star Trek: Voyager fanfic that poked fun at the series by claiming that the reason a lot of the dumber episodes like “Threshold” and “Twisted” happened was because one of the crew members was an alien who unintentionally produced mood altering pheromones, with Captain Janeway actually realizing they were all high because of said pheromones, while two of the unaffected crew members were wondering what the hell they were doing before they found out the cause. Why do I bring this up? Sometimes, it feels like Lila is an unintentional parallel to the alien in that story.

Like so many characters, it's clear the show desperately wants the audience to view Lila in a certain way, but her actions do very little to actually back up that claim. When she's not using lies to tell stories about so many famous people she knows like her uncle who works for Nintendo, Lila is using strategies to manipulate everyone that are so obviously deceptive, the Thermians could pick up on them. Everyone and their mother knows how ridiculous a lot of what Lila does in episodes like “Chameleon” and “Ladybug” are, and I've talked about them before, so I'll try to be quick.

First off, as someone who had access to accommodations through high school and has had assistance in college so far, there is no way in hell that Ms. Bustier should take Lila's tinnitus at face value in “Chameleon”. If a student has a disability that could interfere with the education process, physical or developmental, not only does the school have to evaluate their performance, and determine if they're eligible for an Individualized Education Program, or IEP, but her teachers would have to be notified in the first place. As her primary educator, Ms. Bustier would be part of the team to oversee Lila's IEP and determine what accommodations she needs to help her learn better with her tinnitus and arthritis. But because the writers don't know what Google is, they just ignore it, assume that Lila can just say she has a disability, and have everyone believe it. Even when Eric Cartman pretended to be disabled to compete in the Special Olympics, he put in more effort to look the part, even if he looked like a caricature.

Then there's the fact that that in “Chameleon”, everyone just believes Lila when she says Marinette stole her grandmother's necklace when not only is said necklace from the Agreste line of jewelry, but Alya, who is Rena Rouge, can't pick up on the fact that it's a fake. All she does to justify these lies is come up with a sob story about how nobody believes her, yet nobody ever tries to defend Marinette except Alya one time, and it was after she got expelled.

Or what about in “Oni-Chan”, where Lila thinks having Kagami kill Ladybug while claiming she'll back away from Adrien is a good idea? Let's say Oni-Chan does kill Ladybug or at least take away her Miraculous, what then? We know Lila wouldn't go through with this promise, and as soon as Kagami sees her harassing Adrien, she'll be ripe for akumatization again. Overall, not a great plan.

And yet somehow, this last example is what made her worthy enough to become one of Hawkmoth's most trusted agents. I'm just going to say it: Lila is not a good fit for the power of illusion. Whenever she's Volpina or Chameleon, she always goes out of her way to make a big show instead of being subtle with her deceptions. “Chameleon” is the worst offender, as even though Lila gets the power to shapeshift into someone else, instead of being discreet and cornering people into kissing them and gaining their appearance, she just runs around to get Ladybug's attention instead of being subtle. Even Felix had the bright idea to pretend to be Adrien to catch Ladybug off guard. How do you lose to something that happened in “Felix”?

Despite all of these screw-ups, we're still supposed to see her as this master of deception worthy of allying with Hawkmoth in both his supervillain and civilian form, when really, she's a terrible liar on the schoolyard and on the battlefield.

Why Lila is an Important Character

In the grand scheme of things, Lila just isn't as important of a character that the show loves to parade her around as. She's nothing more than a plot device used to raise the stakes in an episode, given how much reality seems to bend over just to accommodate for her lies. Even when the show alludes to her being part of bigger things, like her deal with Adrien, or her rivalry with Marinette, they don't even go anywhere.

She just feels pointless when you remember Astruc's brilliant idea to force Chloe into being the final Akuma for the season while Lila isn't even mentioned once. She only really makes appearances whenever the writers feel like it, which is why it’s hard to take her seriously. Why should I take this character seriously as a threat if the writers refuse to take her seriously as a threat? Why build Lila up as a big threat and not give her a major role in the finale? Why even include her in the show in the first place when you could show Chloe being more manipulative to fill in the plots Lila plays a big part in?

As of the time I am writing this analysis, four episodes of Season 4 have aired, three of them have been about lies or deception, and Lila hasn't been mentioned at all. It honestly seems like she won't appear unless the writers need a easy way to drive up the conflict, so they can justify it by saying that Lila's “superpower” of lying is more powerful than the common sense of everyone else.

I'm sorry this post was shorter than the last one, but compared to Master Fu, there's not that much to say about Lila that I haven't already said. Even the show barely gives her any attention, so it's hard for me to really find a lot to talk about.

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onlydreamofmysoul · 3 years

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This and That (Wolfstar)

More from my Ao3! Heads up, this one gets smutty so if that’s not your thing then this might not be your fic.

I hope ye like it!

Remus couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Because Sirius Black had gotten a lip piercing.

“Hey Moony.” Sirius smirked, apparently waiting to see how long it would take for Remus to react. It was the first day back at school after the Christmas break, Sirius had spent it why James and the Potters and Remus had missed him but they had written to each other every day.

But apparently there were some things Sirius had forgotten to mention.

“Hi Pads.” Remus finally ground out, realising a beat or two had passed and he hadn’t answered.

“Good break?”

“Yeah it was nice seeing mum and dad.” If Sirius wasn’t going to mention it then neither was Remus. Two could play at this game. “How about you?”

“Alright.” Sirius shrugged but grabbed Remus’s hand and tugged him closer, burying his face against Remus’s neck. Remus could feel the hard press of the warm metal against his skin and felt a little flutter in his core. Fuck.

“Missed you.” Sirius mumbled and Remus wrapped his arms tightly around him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“Well hello James, how lovely it is to see you.” James grumbled walking past two boys.

“Hello to you too James.” Remus chuckled, pulling away from Sirius and beginning to walk back to the castle.

“Is Peter back yet?” James asked as they jumped onto the stairs, just as they began to move, the stone sliding seamlessly through the air.

“No.” Remus answered. “I arrived a couple of hours ago and Peter isn’t due back until tomorrow.”

“Cutting it a little close, isn’t he?” Sirius commented and Remus forced himself to ignore the not-yet-familiar flash of metal on his face.

“Yeah.” Remus shrugged. “He barely even wrote to me over the break.” They stepped off the staircase and headed up to the Gryffindor Tower. “He must just be busy.”

“Maybe he’s found himself a girl.” James said suggestively, nudging Sirius lightly in the ribs. Sirius shoved him away in retaliation. Remus just rolled his eyes.

“Calla lily.” He said to the Fat Lady and the portrait swung open.

They stepped into the common room, quieter than it usually was at this time of the night - a lot of students had yet to return. James brightened immeasurably when he spotted a bright head of flame red hair across the room and he passed his trunk to Remus, half in a daze.

“Would you mind taking this upstairs for me please Moony?” He asked, but without waiting for an answer he had already begun to wander away, half in a trance as he wrapped his arms around Lily from behind. She just smiled and leaned back comfortably into the touch.

“They’re cute.” Remus mused as they trundled up the last set of stars to their dorm.

“Yeah, I suppose Lily was excited to see her boyfriend.”

Remus snorted at the not so subtle dig and opened the door, putting James’s trunk down by his bed.

“I suppose James would have told Lily if he did something like get a new piercing.”

Sirius pouted, his bottom lip popping out and highlighting that little silver ring. “I wanted to see your reaction.” He looked down at his feet, scuffing his shoes lightly. “I take it you don’t like it?”

Remus arched an eyebrow. “You’re right.” He said, stepping closer and he hooked his fingers under Sirius’s chin, lifting it so he could look into his boyfriend’s eyes. “I love it.”

A delighted surprise lit up Sirius’s eyes before he leaned up and pressed those lips against Remus’s before pulling away abruptly.

“Ow.” Sirius said frowning, a finger grazing the piercing lightly. “It’s still pretty tender.”

“You wanted to get out of kissing me that badly?” Remus teased as Sirius groaned, tugging him closer by the waist and burying his face in Remus’s chest.

“I would never have gotten it if I knew it meant I couldn’t kiss you.”

Remus chuckled softly. “I’m sure it’ll only be for a few more days.”

“It's already been two weeks. I’ve done my waiting.” Sirius lamented before pressing up on his tiptoes and trying to connect their lips. Remus laughed at the dramatics as he dodged his boyfriend’s eager lips, determined not to hurt him even if he had been dreaming about this moment from the minute they had been separated.

“I suppose we could figure something else out.” Remus proposed and Sirius pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes.

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” Remus hummed, already leaning down to nuzzle Sirius’s neck. “You can’t kiss me, but there’s nothing stopping me kissing you.”

Sirius’s hands tightened at his waist. “ I guess you’re right.”

Remus nipped Sirius’s earlobe, making the shorter boy gasp. “I thought I was always right?” Remus mumbled into his boyfriend’s skin. Sirius groaned, his hands tanging in Remus’s hair. “You are.”

Remus hummed in approval and grazed his teeth lightly over the spot where Sirius’s shoulder met his neck.

“You are such a tease.” Sirius gasped.

“How long do you think we have?”

Sirius quickly glanced at his watch. “Plenty of time. James is just seeing Evans for the first time in weeks and Peter isn't back yet so it's just you and me Moony.”

“Well in that case…” Remus muttered just before he attached his lips to that sensitive spot he had just been teasing and sucked what would become a deep purple mark there. Sirius gasped and his fingers tightened in Remus hair, tugging him closer. Remus licked a long column up Sirius’s neck, stopping only when he reached the top to pull Sirius’s earlobe into his mouth, smirking against his boyfriend's skin as Sirius inhaled sharply.

“I hate you.” Sirius whispered as Remus dragged his teeth along the shell of his ear and Remus chuckled.

“No you don’t.” He breathed, his hot breath caressing Sirius’s skin. “You love me.”

Sirius gasped and arched into his boyfriend's hands as another mark was made on his skin. “Yeah.” He panted. “I do.”

Remus pulled away slightly so he could look into the heavenly stormy swirls of his boyfriend’s eyes. “Merlin, I wanna kiss you.” He mumbled, his eyes flitting down to Sirius’s lips and… that piercing. Not to reiterate, but… fuck.

“Do it.” Sirius dared but Remus just smirked. “You wish, Pads.” He said, before occupying his lips with something a little more pressing than talking right now and kissing the hollow of Sirius’s throat. He pushed the leather jacket from Sirius’s shoulders and then tugged on his shirt. “Off.” He ordered and Sirius scrambled to follow orders.

Remus grinned as he stood in front of a now-shirtless Sirius. He ran his hands lightly over his boyfriend's pale chest for a moment but stopped when Sirius literally whined with longing.

“Eager, aren’t we?”

“It’s been two weeks.” Sirius ground out. “Don’t pretend you haven’t missed this too.”

Remus swirled his tongue over Sirius’s nipple, not deigning to reply. Sirius gasped and reached around for something to grab on to, finally catching one of the bedposts. In truth, Remus had missed this, oh how he had missed this. But right now it wasn't about him.

He pushed Sirius lightly backwards until his legs hit on his bed and his knees buckled, pulling Remus down onto the bed with him. They collapsed onto the soft covers, giggling for a second as they kicked off their shoes until once again the mood was a tad more serious.

“Thought about you-” Sirius gasped, “Every day, every minute really.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus said, looking up for a moment from where he had been kissing a trail down Sirius’s navel. “What did you think about me doing?”

He bit Sirius’s side gently, the way he knew drove Sirius mad. “This?” He asked innocently. “Or… this?” He continued as he circled his tongue on the other boy’s nipple. “Or maybe even… this.” He breathed as he unbuttoned Sirius’s jeans and slid his hand into his boyfriend’s pants, palming his straining, hard cock through his boxers.

“Fuck Re.” Sirius groaned as his hips buckled up into Remus’s hands. “Give me a warning if you’re going to do that.”

“Oh but then,” Remus pouted. “I wouldn't get to see your face when I did something like… this.” He plunged his hand into Sirius’s underwear, eliminating the one, tiny barrier between them and grasped the velvety hardness as Sirius bit his lip, moaning, that goddamned lip ring gleaming. Remus smirked as he swirled his thumb over the tip of Sirius’s cock, his eyes never leaving Sirius’s face, savouring the bitten lip, every little gasp, the cute scrunching of his nose.

That same smirk still played on Remus’s lips as he lowered his mouth, his tongue darting up to lick the bead of pre cum leaking from Sirius’s aching member. Remus watched Sirius’s eyes fly open before clenching shut as he gasped, his fingers knotting in Remus’s hair and applying very slight pressure. Not enough to actually move Remus, but enough to tell him what Sirius wanted. Remus hummed and then without warning, he took Sirius’s entire length in his mouth.

“Fuck!” Sirius cried, not even caring if the entire Hogwarts castle heard him. “Re.” He whimpered and Remus looked up at him through lidded lashes. “Re.” Sirius panted again, “You’ve gotta stop unless you want me to come right now.” Remus hummed to indicate he had heard, but continued his ministrations, his nails scraping lightly over Sirius’s inner thigh, one hand holding Sirius’s hips down while his tongue swirled ceaselessly over the sensitive skin as Remus kept bobbing his head and the next thing Remus knew was the delicious sound of Sirius’s moan as his hips bucked and he spilled in Remus’s mouth.

Remus continued his motions for a moment or two more, stroking Sirius through his climax before pulling away and crawling up the bed so he could lie next to Sirius, studying his face as he came down from his high.

When Sirius’s eyes were clear again, no longer clouded by pure bliss, he reached over and unbuttoned Remus’s pants quickly, inhaling sharply at Remus’s straining cock. Remus watched as Sirius wrapped his long, slim fingers around him and found himself bucking involuntarily into Sirius’s palm. Sirius laughed a little when Remus climaxed after a few quick tugs but Remus just shoved his shoulder slightly as he cast a wandless cleaning charm.

“A little eager, Re?”

“Oh fuck off.” Remus scoffed. “As if you were much better. Besides, I’ve been dreaming about this for a while now.”

Sirius’s eyes darkened even as he tucked himself into Remus’s open arms, entwining their legs. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Ready to go again so soon Pads. Hm, maybe I’ll just have to prove my stamina this time.”

“Mmm, don’t worry Moony, I know all about your impressive stamina.”

“Good.” Remus found himself mumbling even as he giggled into Sirius’s neck and Sirius huffed a laugh from where his face was buried in Remus’s chest.

“I love you.” Remus whispered. “So, so much.”

Sirius’s grip on him tightened infinitely as he took a slightly quivering breath. “There aren’t enough words for me to describe how much I love you Remus Lupin.”

Remus kissed Sirius’s neck, where his lips rested as he began to drift towards sleep. “Can’t be as much as I love that fucking lip ring.”

#Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #wolfstar #wolfstar oneshot #wolfstar smut #ao3 OpeningMyEyes #Marauders #marauders era fanfiction #James Potter #sirius with a lip piercing #sirius with a piercing #Remus Lupin/Sirius Black #remus lupin x sirius black

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chronicbatfictioner · 3 years

Text

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 20

The dinner was just as Jason expected, bland, dull, a lot of formalities in which Bane was visibly struggling with and did not even bother to pretend to know the difference between steak or salad forks. Jason, Dick, and Tim managed to keep the conversation alive and light, somehow without offending the formality of the dinner. Good thing, Jason thought, that The League had taught him of formal dinner etiquette and whatnot, otherwise he would have been slurping the baiwang with the soup spoon instead of the Chinese soup spoon provided by Alfred - like Bane.

Dick, for all of his lack of etiquette education, won in the manners division - regardless of the fact that Tim was helping him by pointing out which cutlery should be used for what. At the very least, he was not beneath asking what he wasn't sure of.

The day after was a little duller. Alfred merely informed them that the police were there along with the District Attorney, Harvey Dent, to arrest Bane on several counts of murder. Bane was arrested nearly without a fight - he had been purged of his venom strength and knew that he had no chance against some of the cops who were ready to taser him.

Jason was... frankly, a little disappointed.

"Would've been nice if there was a brawl or something," Dick voiced Jason's thought out loud just as he walked outside.

"Oh, goodness, I'm just glad this is over," Bruce commented, glaring apprehensively at Dick's back as the latter walked away with Damian. There was a good long silence before he added, "I presume now that Bane is out of this house, Damian will no longer need you two? I mean, he has me now - and his grandparents." he pointed out.

"I have vowed to guard Damian until he is an adult," Jason replied simply. Ignoring Bruce's sudden change of expression. "it is my order."

"Well, Talia... no offense. But Talia won't-- is no longer around to hold you accountable." Bruce argued.

"No, she's not. But Damian is." Jason looked at the child, sitting under one of the Manor's massive trees with a thick sketchbook before him. Dick, Jason knew, was on the tree. Even with Bane arrested, Oracle had warned that as long as he's not fully incarcerated in a maximum-security facility, he could still either get out and hurt the Waynes - including Damian. Therefore Jason asked Dick to remain with them for a little while longer. Thankfully, Dick didn't mind.

"He's a child. Children adapt well with changes of environments," Bruce said. "and if you're afraid that Bane would come back, I can hire some bodyguards for him."

Jason managed to hold back his smirk. People always thought that he was there to protect Damian; not realizing that he was protecting others from Damian's temper. Instead, he smarted, "like you protected your parents by sending them overseas."

"Oh, now, that's not fair." Bruce protested. "It was... we all thought that... at least mother and I..." he didn't finish his sentence as he exhaled exasperatedly. "His DNA check is back," he continued after a few moments of silence.

"Obviously, he hasn't a drop of Wayne blood in him," Jason suggested, a little dryly. "Something anyone with knowledge of the molecular structure of DNA would have known right away. You accepted Damian right away because you saw he has your mother's ears, in spite of his green eyes. Yet you doubted your father's denial in spite of the fact that there is nothing on Bane that resembled any of you - including about all of the portraits of your ancestors.

"And then there's something else I realized. Bane came with nothing; whereas Damian came with the Al Ghul wealth. You were more accepting because Damian would not equal splitting the Wayne wealth..."

"That is not true!" Bruce growled. "I would not have turned Damian away even if he was not Talia's child. He is my child, and I know that he is!"

"Then we're back to my initial point: You were unable to defend your parents because you did not have 100% faith in their virtues. The Al Ghuls are known leaders of the League of Assassins, to which the leadership shall now be Damian's. What will be your argument, when he decides to take over the League fully? 'Oh, I can't be associated with criminals, even if said crimes were just allegation and not a video recording of someone snapping off another person's neck'?" Jason sneered. "Now, Mister Wayne. I also would like to remind you, that I have Damian's legal custody. If you insist I should leave, I shall bring him along."

"You can't do that," Bruce scowled. "He's my biological child..."

"You have studied your country's laws, Mister Wayne. But you forgot the one crucial thing: Damian is not your country's boy by any means other than your claim." Jason mentally realized that he has placed one of his ace cards onto the table. But he honestly prefers this kind of conversation not to be had when Damian is present. And from the looks of it, he has packed his sketching materials and was making his way back indoors. "Do not try to deny Damian's access to me, or the League, Mr Wayne. He is not yours to manipulate," he added softly while Damian was still out of range.

"Hey guys, Damian and I are hungry," Dick announced as they went past the door. "Think Alfred would let us have cookies?"

"He's the one who is hungry, Todd," Damian told Jason. "I shall wait until tea time for the cookies. It is only a mere hour away."

"Why don't you scrub up a little? Tea should be ready by the time you're done." Bruce suggested.

Damian's scowl could have killed a cobra. "While I am planning on refreshing myself, father, it would be kind of you to cease directing me as if I am an imbecile," he stated, and for the second time in less than 10 minutes, Jason bit the inside of his cheek to stop a snicker.

Bruce, however, was not amused at Damian. "Well! That is not what a child should say to his father!" he admonished.

"Todd," Damian glared at Jason. "Did you not inform Mr Wayne here that I merely referred to him as 'father' due to common societal practices?" he asked with air quotes around the word 'father'.

"I have informed him that, Damian," Jason assured him.

"Do remind him on a daily basis that I am not obliged to remain here beyond what is demanded by his country's societal norms." Damian continued.

"I shall, Damian," Jason replied.

"Very well, I shall be in my quarters until tea time. You might consider feeding Grayson here, Todd," Damian said dismissively.

"I actually have some matters to discuss with you, Damian, if you don't mind. I think Grayson can fend for himself just fine," Jason told him.

"I don't mind. Let us, then." Damian said, leading the way back to his room.

Jason nodded politely to Bruce and motioned Dick to join him. "Mr Wayne, Grayson."

As they left Bruce, still standing in confusion - probably - Dick remarked, "ouch," softly.

"Go on and get your own cookies, Grayson," Jason remarked.

"I need to discuss something with you, too. You two, actually, somewhere safe." Dick said. Both Jason and Damian paused their steps. "Yeah, and we might need to call upon a certain bird for backup," Dick added, almost nonchalantly. It was not until then that Jason noticed the tenseness on his shoulders. He remembered that Dick, too, was trained to keep an eye out for danger.

"You go on ahead with Damian, I'll ask Alfred if he may have tea in his quarters." Jason decided. Damian nodded, realizing the urgency in Dick's posture, and stepped a little closer to Dick as Jason turned the other way.

Whatever it is Dick has to say, Jason could be certain now that besides himself, Dick would protect Damian fiercely. And/or protect other, possibly innocent people, from Damian's tempers.

He was just wondering why did it seem that Bruce Wayne was so intent on removing him.

And why Dr and Mrs Wayne would suddenly take a trip to Europe right after they were proverbially and literally freed from Bane.

Alfred, as usual, was in the kitchen preparing for tea time. In spite of being Americans, the Waynes seemed to like the habit of afternoon tea time.

Jason told Alfred of Damian's request, and Alfred nodded slowly. "Is Master Bruce still in the sun-room, then?" he asked.

"Last time I saw him, yeah."

"Ah, then... young Jason, may an old man request something from you and your vast knowledge of herbs?" Alfred's face was as impassive as ever when he said that, just a shade before he returned to his task of preparing some small sandwiches. But Jason was a little confused. Why would Alfred ask him for herbs? As far as Jason could tell, he was as healthy as... well, someone Jason's age, which has got to be at least a third of Alfred's; half at most. Jason didn't think that Alfred was any older than mid- to late-40s.

"Sure, how can I help?" he answered, anyway.

"Oh, I was wondering if there is any method you may suggest to... how do I put it... Chafe off surgical remains within oneself? I have had work done for my nose, you see, on a whim as a young lad; and I do not believe it looks becoming on me as I age. I feel as if it makes me look like another person is inhabiting my body, as Master Bruce was wont to say."

Jason blinked, and partially wished Dick was there to confirm his thoughts. In spite of being the exact same height as Jason, Alfred was bowing his head a little as he spoke; and Jason knew that there was a surveillance camera that would be able to record their conversation in the kitchen. His shoulders were tenser than the task of cutting bread would have required.

"Well, wow... okay. I'll need to actually search my books. You know some of the ladies back then would apply something to their skin for scars or bruises. But I'm not sure if it'll work on surgical stuff. I'll let you know?" Jason replied carefully.

"Thank you, Jason, for considering. While it shames me for being vain, it is... rather crucial." Alfred smiled at him.

"No problem, Alf," Jason patted him on the shoulder and made his way back to Damian's room - where each and every surveillance device has been disabled and/or misdirected by the combination of Tim, Barbara, and Damian's own skills.

Once Jason walked in and closed the doors of Damian's room behind him, he was greeted by both Damian and Dick's voices.

"That man is not my father, Todd! I believe my grandparents may still be in danger!" Damian exclaimed as Dick stormed over and announced 'There was an increase of drone activities outside, that's why I brought Damian in!' - followed by Damian and Dick glaring at each other, and Damian said, "Todd, we might need to acquire some new exit strategy!" at the same time as Dick saying, 'I've sent a text to Tim, but he hasn't answered. I've texted Babs, though!'

Jason cringed at them. "Whoa! Hold up! If this is how you two kids report, nobody would need surveillance equipment to hear you from Gotham Harbor!" he snarled. The two promptly stopped and glared at each other again, as if they both were hoping to have Superman's laser vision or something. "Okay, I've heard you both, and I'm upping the ante. Alfred just asked me practically for a method to dissolve foreign objects inside someone's body and allude that someone in the house is not who they seemed. And said someone might be Bruce."

Damian threw his fist to the air, stating, "I knew it!"

Dick's eyes were wide as saucers. "Okay... I would... I've wanted to say the same thing since we got in. But I was kinda scared I might be wrong. What makes you sure?"

"Alfred referred to Bruce in the past tense when talking to me," Jason said. "You? --wait, no, Damian first."

"He looked and behaved differently than the videos mother had shown me," Damian replied.

"I second Damian on this. Well, dude... we need to communicate better, don't we?" Dick said, telling the last bit toward Damian. "I've only met him once, way back when-- when my parents were... you know. But like I've told you, I remember everything from that day as if it has just happened. I remember Bruce Wayne was there with a blonde girl wearing chinchilla fur, a 50s hairdo, and an actual pearl pin. But when my parents... right after, I saw him directing traffic of people out of the tent calmly. His presence then was literally calming, like, everyone was looking at him for direction. This Bruce... generally, looked too nervous on everything; if that makes sense."

Jason thought a moment. Dick was really good at reading people's body language - even the most stoic Alfred. Before Bane was removed, Dick's assessment of Alfred was that he was uncomfortable with Bane, yet very welcoming of Damian. Thus his immediate trust in Alfred. However, since Bane was arrested and proven to not have been a Wayne; Jason hasn't got the chance to ask Dick to re-assess Alfred.

"Okay, I'll retrieve the video footage of your dad from 10 years ago from the League's servers. We'll cross-check. We'll tell the Birds once we're sure, yeah?" Jason suggested.

"Agreed," Damian nodded slowly.

"I'll have Tim keeping an eye on the Doc and Missus while we're at it, though. I mean, you know, precautions and all." Dick suggested.

"Okay, call Tim. If he doesn't answer, call Babs or his mom. I'd like this whole thing settled quickly before Bruce can do anything to harm Damian." Jason huffed a breath slowly, wondering what the hell is it with the Waynes that seemed to run on endless conspiracy theories, anyway.

#Batless!AU #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #Bruce Wayne #Damian Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #JayTim #Red Ghost!jason #Talon!Dick

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vivithefolle · 3 years

Note

About criticizing Hermione.

Personally I think Hermione should be criticized for everything that happened in the books, the facts speak of their own but there is a limit in how responsible a fictional character is for the actions the author made her do . It's not like she actually had her faith in her hands and she chose to be JKRs shelf-insert and make all her Shitty ideas her own.

Let's look at the bigger picture here, is Hermione realy being treated better than Ron from the phantom?

JKR trusted her characters to Kloves and he basically pimped Hermione. She is the most sexualized fictional character of the 21st century so far, he portraited her like an OP/sexi cosplay of the real Hermione. She became a top10 sex fantasy for every healthy and sick mind out there and JKR did nothing to stop It for like a decade.

Ron is being hated for being an 'unworthy' pair for her(actually they hate him just because he has Hermione) and she is being hated for choosing him and she must be punish for it. You said that if she was a boy everybody will call for his head on a plate and I apsolotly agree but she is a girl so they call for her vagina on a plate instead. This is how you punish an intelligent woman, you subdue her and then you sexualy demean her.

You know better than me what is happening in fanfiction. She's been paired with evreone from Harry to Hagrids dog and the giand squid. Hermione is a sex slave, a dominated toy, a sperm dumpster, a total slut, a cheating/cheated wife, she is been mercilessly raped and abused and portrayed like a young Bellatrix or umbridge.

She has earn as many nasty titles as Ron so I don't think her being a girl worked in her favor.

Unfortunately it seems there are a lot of people who think that Intelligence is a mark of higher character and superior maturity as you said but Hermione is not one of them. She is hanging around with Harry and Ron and his family not her 'intelectual equals' from Ravenqlaw book club and she is dating athletes not distinguished students. Intelligence isn't the most important thing for her and she never acted like different people are not worthy of her company or her attention. So let's not hold her accountable for those ridiculous ideas.

Anyway I don't know if I am ranting but I just believe Hermiones character has been damaged and shamed just as much as Rons has, just in bit of different way and she don't deserve extra hate because she is JKRs shelf-insert in the story.

That comment of yours 'Hermione is literally JKR' ruin my appetite for the day. I just imagine Ron doing things with her.... Buhh😫🤢

The major difference in fanfiction is that... many people legit think this is “better” for Hermione.

They write stories of her being abused by Big Bad OOC Ron and being rescued by heroic prince charmings like Harry, Draco, Snape, or whoever. And all the while, the shippers genuinely think this could be plausible.

They take this huge dump on Ron and everything he stands for as a character - your insecurities don’t define you; the people you love only ask for you to be there, not for you to always be a 5* badass; you don’t have to prove anything to anyone but yourself - then proceed to “reward” Hermione with the affections of someone they’ve deemed “worthy” of her.

Usually, a person with which Hermione finds herself in a more subservient position.

Harry Potter: Mr Save The World, super fucking rich, will forever outshine whoever marries him Draco Malfoy: aristocratic/nobility, super hella rich Lucius Malfoy (yes, Luciumione is very popular on AO3): same as above + MUCH older than Hermione Severus Snape: Potions prodigy who actually invented stuff while Hermione only ever stuck by the book, MUCH older than she is Viktor Krum: famous athlete, probably rich

And so on and so forth.

Many of the Hermione ships of the fandom have an inherent imbalance. When it comes to age gap ships like Snamione or Luciumione, people will justify themselves by saying “oh but Hermione is so mature for her age, she needs someone on her level!”

.......... I very much hope to never meet one of these people in real life.

Not only is Hermione nowhere as mature as what they believe she is but MATURITY DOESN’T MAKE UP FOR A GAP OF NEARLY TWO DECADES OF EXPERIENCE. (And can you imagine saying “Hermione needs a mature man!” then pairing her with Snape, the teenager stuck in a grown man’s body? Talk about cognitive dissonance.)

Anyway, those ships usually take Hermione to pair her with, let’s say it in the worst possible way, a man of “more value” than her.

The Hero. An aristocrat. An older man and a teacher. A celebrity...

They’re not trying to look to match Hermione with an equal.

They’re trying to pair her with someone she can be subservient to.

Because as @lytefoot brilliantly put it:

A woman has to be all-around pretty good at everything, whereas a man has to be the absolute best in his area of greatest competence (surely better than any puny female!) with a help-meet there to compensate for his weaknesses. People are very, very uncomfortable when Ron and Hermione reverse this dynamic. Hermione is extremely intelligent and dedicated to intellectual pursuits, but is complete pants at things like self-care and people skills. Ron is bright enough to keep up with her and strong in her areas of weakness.

Even if Ron was as dumb as a sack of rocks (he’s not), his other virtues are more than enough to “justify” Hermione loving him. (Because she needs an excuse?) But no. A woman has to be with a man who outdoes her in her area of greatest strength.

But they’re completely convinced that they’re making a “better” match for Hermione because in their heads, they’ve convinced themselves that Ron’s “inferiority” (= his underrated qualities like his good heart, his humour, his patience (many of which are also coded as primarily feminine qualities); his poverty; his language; his tendency to stand up for himself even against his friends; his insecurity) is a sure sign he would be bad to Hermione. Because there are two types of people: those who are inferior and those who aren’t! /s

They sincerely believe they’re elevating Hermione when they’re using her as Harry/Draco/Snape/Aragog’s token to redemption/happiness. Because they genuinely think Hermione should be “rewarded” with a man that outclasses her in the aspects of her life she prides herself on (her studies, her academics, her social justice ambitions). At the same time, they build up this whole narrative about how Ron would “want her to be another Molly, barefoot and pregnant all the time” to convince themselves that they really are Good Little Feminists.

All in all: when people write Hermione as Snape’s sex kitten, they do it because they believe that’s the best thing that can happen to her. But when they write Ron to bash him, it’s because they genuinely hate him. They want the worst to happen to him. They delight in his misery. They love it. Because they’re so blinded by their own lies and so convinced that “hurmion 2 gud 4 ron durrhurrhurr” that they think he deserves the most painful, humiliating things to happen to him.

That’s the difference. People pair Hermione with the most horrible people out of blind adoration for her. Those same people bash Ron as retribution for “defiling” their goddess.

The kind of “Hermione bashing” you refer to is done out of good sentiments. But Ron? He doesn’t get that sort of bashing; he’s reviled and hated for things he didn’t even do, because people can’t fucking comprehend that just because he acted badly at times doesn’t mean those actions define him. The bashing comes out of hatred and an unfounded, unfair desire for “justice” that is unwarranted in the first place.

That’s why I turn the tables and judge Hermione with the fandom’s absolutely impossible standards they only seem to apply to Ron and a select few others (Dumbledore, some of the Weasleys). To prove that no fucking human being could even hope to dream to meet those standards.

#vivi answers #ask #hermione granger #ron weasley #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley defence squad #hp fandumb #harry potter series

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hteragram-x · 4 years

Text

Remus Sanders is an artist HCs – part 2

Next part of [THIS POST]

It may be slightly more angsty than last time... (but it’s still packed with this Creativitwins content I crave... plus there are hints at Intrulogical, Dukeceit, and Intruality).

...

21. When Remus wants Logan to join him with creating new hybrids and some weird terraformations in the Imagination he leans in way too close and asks: “wanna play god?” in a seductive voice. (Works every time.)

22. He paints a lot and he usually needs gigantic canvas, because he’s very expressive and energetic, so the paint goes everywhere (including the artist himself… I mean he drinks it) and he’s got no patience to deal with some small easel when he has A VISION.

23. He likes recreating already existing famous paintings, but – obviously – makes them more sexual and/or bloody. The more disturbing the better.

24. He knows quite a lot about classical art and the well known artists. If you want to rebel against the rules you need to know them first, right? (he learnt that too)

25. Remus is better with theory, Roman has more artistic intuition when it comes to new techniques. So they can often teach each other. Remus giving the facts and Roman quickly coming up with new ways to apply this knowledge in practice. (Logan’s very proud.) They generally like trying new techniques and materials to paint or sculpt together.

26. Remus, just like Roman, really wants a big audience (or any audience, at least). The fact that he’s “trapped” in Thomas’ mind is sometimes depressing, because his brother’s ideas are quite often created in the real world, but his art stays in the subconscious with no one to witness its disturbing glory.

27. So Roman made him an art gallery where he can display all his proudest creations. Most of the visitors are just the made up people from Imagination, but sometimes one of the sides will go there too. Patton has more than once spent the entire evening looking at the displays through his fingers, but he’s seen every single work of art and tried real hard to honestly compliment at least one thing about all of them. (He even took the autograph. Remus definitely didn’t cry.)

28. Once Roman and Remus decided to paint each other portraits and then autoportraits to hang them together for comparison. It started as a friendly competition to brag about their skills, but it turned out that each brother painted their twin with much more sad expression than they had on their autoportraits. They decided to not talk about it again, but they kept the paintings in their rooms nonetheless.

29. Remus once gave every side their portrait for birthday or nameday. They were very… ehm… realistic. Let’s just say that not every side wants to show them publically.

30. He likes asking other sides to be his models as a sneaky excuse to spend time with them. Most of them already discovered his intentions, but they come to his study anyway. Deceit is the most patient and graceful model and the only one willing to take off any clothes (to show more scales, mostly). Logan can be patient too if you let him read or rant about something while posing. Patton is too energetic so he can only pose for quick sketches.

...

31. Remus stopped asking Roman to be a model, because… well… He can just draw himself without moustache, since they are twins (in an AU where the sides don’t look exactly the same…; if they do look alike, then he can draw anyone and put into Roman’s costume). But to be honest Roman just can’t stay in one position for more than twelve seconds. He’s easily distracted and gets excited, leave him alone.

32. When the twins were little they drew a lot pictures together on a giant cardboard. You could always guess which part was done by which twin. (And they really made Patton suffer by constantly asking which one he likes more.)

33. One of Remus’ biggest dreams is for Thomas to direct a horror movie. The most obnoxious and over the top production, full of gore, but with a super sad ending that affects you more than all the limbs and eyeballs flying around earlier.

34. He has at least twenty variants of the script and a long list of ideas (such as the designs of the monsters and precise descriptions of gruesome deaths), but at some point he realized that his big project will never be transferred to the silver screen. He gave up on asking Thomas about it after the seventh script, but kept writing.

35. When asked nicely he will paint, draw, sculpt etc. something pretty and delicate for others. Sometimes other sides do that to tease him and see him sketching fluffy animals, but he actually appreciates that they want his art. So if he spends a quiet evening painting some sunflowers in watercolours it’s all good. (But they better praise his work adequately. He could have spent that time sketching naked dudes, so be grateful, Janus.)

36. When struck with a sudden wave of inspiration Remus will write down his idea (or sketch something) no matter the situation. With a fork on the wall? Sure. With permanent marker on his forehead. Of course. (So you should not be surprised to see him walking all day with the words “tentacles, birthday cake, salt” written all over his face.)

37. He likes designing tattoos. He even put them on two other sides (they agreed!). [I’m not going to tell which ones.] And he really enjoyed it. You combine art with causing pain. How could he not like it?

38. He did at some point use his own blood to paint. It’s Remus, let’s be real.

39. When he’s melancholic and needs a change he likes to stay on his side of Imagination and just shift all the things around. He rebuilds the parts of his tower or let the forest grow at the impossibly fast speed. He doesn’t consider it art, but he often ends up with something new and interesting, so maybe it is? (plus he feels better afterwards)

40. But when he’s extra sad, he would just sit down and write poetry. Because he honestly thinks that poems are kind of lame. And what’s lamer than being sad, am I right? haha (someone hug him).

...

I don’t know if I’m finished with this list… Probably not.

[Again, part one is HERE.]

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vendeavendea · 4 years

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How Entrapta Has Become My All Time Favourite Autistic Representation in Media: Long Version

Just so you know what to expect, this is more of a very long and boring personal post and less of a character analysis. By "very long", I mean "very long". Also, half of it was written at night when I was supposed to be sleeping (like, right now), so some parts might not even make sense. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Just days before I started to watch She-Ra, I answered a question in a writer group where someone asked what are the do's and don'ts of writing an autistic character. I've been told a couple of times in my life that I can’t be autistic based on the fact that I'm not really interested in or good at science, so I think special interests of autistic people are something that definitely has to be presented better in media. So I advised this person to make their character have a special interest that's NOT related to science, technology, space or computers, because it's a very common misconception that people on the autism spectrum are always into these stuff, and there are so many autistic fictional characters based on this stereotype that I feel like we absolutely don't need any more.

And then I saw Entrapta.

I didn't know she's canonically autistic until a much later episode, but it didn't surprise me when I was told she is, because my autism radar went off like a hundred times while watching System Failure and all her other season 1 appearances (so did my ADHD radar, by the way, but as far as I know, this hasn't been confirmed by the creators, so it's just my headcanon). And she looked like the purple ponytails princess version of the autism stereotype that I didn’t want to see any more of. The genius who is into space and robots, knows nothing about human relationships and keeps driving everyone nuts with her long and impossible-to-follow scientific monologues. Also cute and funny, yeah, but still, as someone on the spectrum who is super artistic and has nothing to do with science stuff, my first reaction was "dang, not this shit again." Just for once in my life, I wanted to see an autistic representation that's not just that typical weird tech-lover but a character that's at least a tiny bit more like me. Seeing her only in her first episode, little did I know that Entrapta's character has an incredible depth and her whole arc was going to be hair-raisingly personal to me (I know I'm not funny, but pun intended).

First, let’s talk about robots, because we can't talk about Entrapta without talking about robots. Entrapta builds robots just for fun, because technology is her thing, but there's actually a lot more behind this. Starting from as early as her debute episode, we see through the whole series that she creates robots with different designs, abilities, personalities, very similar to real people, as a sort of substitute for the human (or whatever species) company she'd wish to have. She even gives them names. She programs them to like being around her, to understand her, something that she hasn't really experienced from real people, which is sad enough on its own, but even sadder if we consider that she actually has human staff working at her fortress. She pretty literally makes friends, and she does it with the help of her special interest. And this totally reminds me of my primary school years when I had zero real friends and used my special interest, which was writing fictional stories and creating worlds/universes/languages in my head, to make up imaginary characters that could be my "friends" so that I wouldn't be that lonely.

Then, her interactions with other characters, especially with Hordak. Entrapta consoling Hordak in Huntara is a very powerful scene to me, not only what she says, but also how she says it. When Hordak starts venting about how he is a failure and all, Entrapta's first immediate response is to provide a practical solution, to design an armor for him, and comforting him with words is only a secondary action. She's helping in her own way, with technology, because that's what she's the best at, but she also wants to make sure he understands that fixing imperfections isn't always the solution, embracing them is. I also love how it's hinted with the "loved" crystal that Entrapta's love language may be acts of service (and probably quality time as well), which is another thing we have in common. And there's another thing in that scene I found very relatable: that part when she stops consoling him and starts to talk about herself being a failure instead. In real life, most people would read that in a negative way. I've been in many situations where I've tried doing something similar to people who were venting to me, and normally, they're like "ew, I'm the one complaining now, stop making it about you." But Hordak's reaction is different, all he does is try to tell her she's not a failure before she shushes him, then he just listens. He understands what Entrapta means by saying all those things about herself isn't "hey, look, my life is also horrible, so I get to complain, too" but rather "I feel you, we're the same". For a person who thinks and acts as differently from average people as Entrapta does, connecting with someone through similar experiences and feelings is a huge thing, and this is so relatable to me that I cried like a baby while watching that scene. Also, kudos to Christine Woods for making Entrapta's monologue sound so factual and casual. It really gives the impression of someone who is fully aware of her own strengths and weaknesses and accepts herself as a whole with all her flaws. The way she lists all the things that make her feel like a failure right after saying "imperfection is beautiful" is just... wow. But seriously, this whole "imperfection is beautiful" thing in general is such a cliché that it's not even supposed to work on me, but hell it does, because it's so well-presented that it's actually one of the most powerful moments of the whole series. Entrapta giving me self-acceptance lessons is all I've ever needed in my life (Hordak probably agrees, lol).

Speaking of self-acceptance, I also love how Beast Island shows that it's a long and difficult process with its ups and downs instead of just a door you walk through once in your life and then stay on the other side forever. Even if I accept and love myself the way I am, it's still totally normal to have low points with thoughts like "I'm not suited for friendship" or "everyone leaves me behind". And it's very nice and uplifting to have someone's love and support when I'm in a bad mood with stuff like this on my mind, but personally, I often find it easier to deal with if I have something related to any of my special interests around that I can focus my thoughts on. My "we flew here on an ancient First Ones ship, do you wanna see it?" would be something like "do you wanna create some characters and then write the shit out of them?" and before this show I've never actually realised how neurodiverse it is to use a hobby or interest for self-care like this. The "definitely the ship" part called me out so hard, and I just adore how the writers were able put so much meaning into a single joke line.

Back to interactions, there's also something painfully relatable in the way the other princesses treat Entrapta. Even in the beginning in No Princess Left Behind, but mostly in season 4 and 5. In most cases, Entrapta is only considered to be worthy enough to not be left behind in situations when her skills are useful. Other characters "liking" her isn't really about herself as a person but her tech knowledge. Just like when you go to school and the only reason your classmates want to make friends with you is because you always do your homework and let others copy it, or you're good at explaining stuff and are willing to help people getting prepared for tests/exams. When I was in grammar school, my classmates ignored me or mocked me for liking animation and comics, but every now and then they did the bare minimum of treating me like a human being and expected me to do their arts homework in return, because I was the only one in my class who was good at arts. When I studied linguistics at the uni, I was really into phonology and historical linguistics, and those were the compulsory subjects most of the other students were struggling with, so many people wanted to hang out with me just to make sure they could get my notes before the exams. The same people kept calling me nerd and making fun of me behind my back. I also had a few genuine friends, which I'm grateful for, but I still know what it feels like to be needed only for a specific skill while not being noticed and respected as a person, and Launch portraits this experience in a very clever way. It's so amazing to see how the princesses realise who Entrapta really is and start to treat her as someone who just thinks differently instead of someone who's a deliberate bad person. They finally get to see that she's not just an unwary tech nerd, but also a determined, caring and loyal friend who gives others so much love in her own geeky way and deserves love, too. But I shouldn't even be surprised, I mean, we're talking about a show that teaches us "you worth more than what you can give to other people," and it's great how this message applies to other characters as well, not only to Adora. And the best part is that this whole conflict is not presented as something black and white, it's not like Entrapta is the poor misunderstood autistic person and the princesses are the evil allistic bad guys who mistreat her. It's simply a miscommunication between neurotypical and neurodivergent individuals, and while the other princesses get to understand that they hurt Entrapta by their actions and that they should be more respectful of her, Entrapta also realises that she's made mistakes and hurt people, becomes aware of her own bad habits and makes efforts to get rid of them in order to save Glimmer. Plus I also love the faint implication that most of the princesses never really, genuinely, 100% make friends with Entrapta even after this scene, because sometimes people just don't resonate with each other enough to become close friends, but they learn to accept her differences and treat her with respect, nonetheless. This episode is so full of realistic interactions and character development it blows my mind every time I rewatch it.

I could just go on and on about all those tiny relatable details such as "I've waited years for someone to ask me about my theories!" I think this was the line that first made me fall in love with Entrapta's character. I mean, if someone from the crew wrote this line, that means they might know the feeling, too, so I'm not the only dork who feels this way every time someone asks me a question about my hyperfixations. And it's just so reassuring. Entrapta has many lines of the kind, they're not even important plotwise, but still super relatable and validating.

Now that we're here, and I know that I probably should have said this at the beginning of the post, but I'm too lazy to rewrite the first paragraph accordingly, I'd like to note that these are all my own interpretations and reflections on Entrapta's character based on my own experiences. This whole thing is totally personal, and I don't want anyone to think that this is how Entrapta is supposed to be seen by the whole fandom. So yeah, that's pretty much it for now.

#She-Ra #She-Ra Reboot #SPOP #entrapta #autism #personal

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ask-the-clergy-bc · 4 years

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can I pls have some hcs of the Papas/Copia what they'd be like parenting a son?

You got it, fam!

Also just a quick note that in my writings Copia is not related to the Emeritus. :) So it will show in how he interacts with Nihil and vice versa!

Papas/Copia Parenting a Son

Papa Nihil:

~Well, it would definitely be vastly different from how he raised his current three if he had a fourth! Unfortunately, with his current brood he wasn’t the best father. Not by any means the absolute worst... just not the best at all.

~Nihil was a very inattentive parent who let the rest of the clergy raise his heirs. He was always sure that his sons didn’t need him the way normal children would. They had a lot more to learn than the average child, and would constantly need teaching only the ministry can provide. Not cuddles, or fishing trips, or bed time stories- or whatever it is that real dads do!

~Not to mention, during that time Nihil was off chasing pleasure as a Papa deserves. But it’s not like the boys didn’t have nannies, mentors, and ghouls to watch them! Nihil was content to occasionally visit his sons in their childhood with some gifts and asking about their growth. It’s all they needed right?

~When he sons were older and graduated seminary, that’s when he was usually more involved. “Mentoring” them in the ways of Papacy. His eldest didn’t need as much attention, as he was a natural progeny of the clergy... but his other two needed his guidence- even if they didn’t want it!

~With a fourth heir? He might be old, but he is attentive and present always! This is a new chance to succeed where his others have failed. Not to mention, a way to put the Cardinal in his place! Nihil will be the most annoying father and mentor the child has ever seen. Drilling into them how to be the best papa, son of Lucifer, and force the Clergy has ever seen!

Papa I:

~Takes to Fatherhood like a duck to water! Very few people know that Papa pretty much raised his two younger brothers from a young age. Being about ten years their senior, Papa stepped up when his own father was rarely present. So he already knows a thing or two about raising sons. Plus, Papa knows an heir of his own is an unblessing from Lucifer, and it’s not one he would ever take for granted.

~Papa is not one to be especially emotionally, but he is very caring to his son. Papa knows the importance of being emotionally available to your child, and will do his best to offer his support and love. It’s very odd to many to see the old, scary Papa help calm his crying son down during a bad day.

~Tries his best not to put crippling pressure on his son, but does have many expectations about how his son is taught as he gets older. To be a Papa, one must apply themselves above everyone else. You should always be expected to know as much of Lucifer’s teachings as possible. A Papa needs to be well educated,well rounded, articulate, passionate, and above all- versed in everything that is unholy.

~Despite being one of the most qualified to teach his son personally, Papa goes out of his way to make sure he’s not the only one around for his child. It takes a village to raise a child, isn’t that how the saying goes? Papa wants his son to meet others and learn from every willing teacher he can! That and, should his son be more sociable, make as many friends as possible.

~Determined to raise a great Papa and make Lucifer proud. But also raise a son that will feel loved and, in turn, spread that love to others through Lucifer’s light.

Papa II:

~Actually not that cold hearted bastard everyone thought he would be if he had a son. Because of his mix of wild, night escapades and bitterness many thought Papa would just be like his father. Indifferent, cold, and absolutely uncaring as to what happened to his spawn. But it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

~If it’s one thing Papa prides himself on it’s not being as idiotic as a man as he regards Nihil to be sometimes. True, he wouldn’t be the emotional or cuddly father type like Papa III or Copia. But he would care and he’d make effort to be in his son’s life. Even if the child was born from a prime mover he had no emotional connection with.

~Deep down he has always resented his father for treating him like a burden to be shipped away and then molded to the ministry’s liking. So he would never put his child through that, especially with them being a son and heir to the Emeritus bloodline. Of course he’d want the best education and teaching and luxury... but nothing like treating his own child as a pawn or puzzle piece.

~Very firm, has high expectations, but very fair to his son. Papa will raise his child to be strong, level headed, and dedicated to their Unholy Lord.All he wants is for his heir to not fall into the same despair he has thanks to the Clergy and it’s manipulative ways.

~To many, even his own son, he will sometimes come off as emotionless and uncaring... but truthfully, he’s always been that way. He’s just prickly. But he cares about his son and their well being. Papa will still praise them in his very subtle and almost cold way, and give them proper recognition when they earn it. But he’s also quick to correct them and help them improve. Seems like he’s too harsh in getting his child to succeed but it’s because he wants them to be their best and not settle for anything less.

Papa III:

~It actually depends on who is the one who mothers his child. Papa is not a cruel man, but he is very cautious on where his emotional investments will go. So if his son is born of someone he isn’t involved with, like a fling or a prime mover forced upon him by the clergy, he is more indifferent.

~That isn’t to say Papa would completely ignore his child. He wouldn’t want to be like his father (entirely). But a heir born to continue his bloodline is a ministry pushed endeavor, and he feels like he was just the breeding stud to get the next Emeritus. Honestly, he would be more afraid of being shut out of the child’s life if he interfered too much with the will of the Clergy.

~If this was a son born out of love or a prime mover he cares about, Papa is way more involved. Almost to an alarming degree by High Clergy standards. Granted, he’s not sure even how to be a father and it scares the all mighty Hell out of him! But he tries his best! He wants to be a better father than Nihil ever was.

~Makes it a point to be personally involved in raising his son, like a normal parent would be. He can’t always be there daily thanks to Papal duties, but damn it if he isn’t going to try! Papa knows how important it is to be active in his son’s life if he wants them to grow up feeling secure, loved, and emotionally stable. Truthfully, he always worries his child will grow up feeling abandoned or unloved like he did. As much as he loves himself, Papa doesn’t want a mini version of his emotional baggage walking around.

~Many were taken aback when Papa is so proud and boastful about his son! He likes to show his child off and talk about what a proud father he is. Will go on for hours about how he has the next great Papa under his wing, and how amazing his son is. Actually keeps pictures and documents all the big milestones. You can even find him playing or reading to the little one. Tries to be every bit of a “normal” dad as he can in this Clergy lifestyle.

Papa IV/Cardinal Copia:

~An almost comical mixture of excited new father and hovering mentor figure. On one hand he was an Orphan of a child, and wants his son to be raised with the love and guidance Copia never received as a boy. On the other, he wants his son to be thick skinned and ready for all the challenges of being the first heir to a new bloodline!

~When his child is smaller he doesn’t want them to be too overwhelmed with being raised as the next future Papa. He wants them to have a good childhood with many happy memories and not too much pressure. At the same time, when his son is older he will press harder for him to study and to take his legacy seriously. Copia often worries he’s either pushing too hard or not hard enough for his son to achieve papacy!

~Personally wants to mentor his son as much as he can. Copia had to learn a LOT and fought very hard to become the next Father of a bloodline. So Copia always had to know more than everyone, be smarter than everyone, work harder than everyone, AND be more alert than everyone. All traits and values he pushes onto his child.

~Copia does have such a soft spot for his son, as he just wants his son to be happy in the end. So he may or may not let the boy get away with some things, depending on what it is! Copia is weird in that way where he would gladly sneak his son extra dessert when his child knows he can’t have anymore... yet he would turn around and scold his son for not finishing his homework in a timely manner.

~Despite his power and knowledge, Copia can still be the embarrassing dad. Making crappy dad jokes that embarrass his son. Accidentally ‘ruining’ dates, not even realizing his teenager was in the middle of flirting. Or Hell, even showing off the various giant portraits he had painted of his heir. All in the life of a #1 Satanic Dad!

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost headcanons #papa nihil #papa emeritus i #Papa Emeritus II #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 3 years

Text

A History Of God – The 4,000-year quest of Judaism, Christianity and Islam

“I say that religion isn’t about believing things. It’s ethical alchemy. It’s about behaving in a way that changes you, that gives you intimations of holiness and sacredness.” — Karen Armstrong on Powells.com

book by Karen Armstrong (2004)

The idea of a single divine being – God, Yahweh, Allah – has existed for over 4,000 years. But the history of God is also the history of human struggle. While Judaism, Islam and Christianity proclaim the goodness of God, organised religion has too often been the catalyst for violence and ineradicable prejudice. In this fascinating, extensive and original account of the evolution of belief, Karen Armstrong examines Western society’s unerring fidelity to this idea of One God and the many conflicting convictions it engenders. A controversial, extraordinary story of worship and war, A History of God confronts the most fundamental fact – or fiction – of our lives.

____________________________________

Review: Armstrong, a British journalist and former nun, guides us along one of the most elusive and fascinating quests of all time – the search for God. Like all beloved historians, Armstrong entertains us with deft storytelling, astounding research, and makes us feel a greater appreciation for the present because we better understand our past. Be warned: A History of God is not a tidy linear history. Rather, we learn that the definition of God is constantly being repeated, altered, discarded, and resurrected through the ages, responding to its followers’ practical concerns rather than to mystical mandates. Armstrong also shows us how Judaism, Christianity, and Islam have overlapped and influenced one another, gently challenging the secularist history of each of these religions. – Gail Hudson

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The Introduction to A History of God:

As a child, I had a number of strong religious beliefs but little faith in God. There is a distinction between belief in a set of propositions and a faith which enables us to put our trust in them. I believed implicitly in the existence of God; I also believed in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, the efficacy of the sacraments, the prospect of eternal damnation and the objective reality of Purgatory. I cannot say, however, that my belief in these religious opinions about the nature of ultimate reality gave me much confidence that life here on earth was good or beneficent. The Roman Catholicism of my childhood was a rather frightening creed. James Joyce got it right in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man: I listened to my share of hell-fire sermons. In fact Hell seemed a more potent reality than God, because it was something that I could grasp imaginatively. God, on the other hand, was a somewhat shadowy figure, defined in intellectual abstractions rather than images. When I was about eight years old, I had to memorise this catechism answer to the question, ‘What is God?’: ‘God is the Supreme Spirit, Who alone exists of Himself and is infinite in all perfections.’ Not surprisingly, it meant little to me and I am bound to say that it still leaves me cold. It has always seemed a singularly arid, pompous and arrogant definition. Since writing this book, however, I have come to believe that it is also incorrect.

As I grew up, I realised that there was more to religion than fear. I read the lives of the saints, the metaphysical poets, T. S. Eliot and some of the simpler writings of the mystics. I began to be moved by the beauty of the liturgy and, though God remained distant, I felt that it was possible to break through to him and that the vision would transfigure the whole of created reality. To do this I entered a religious order and, as a novice and a young nun, I learned a good deal more about the faith. I applied myself to apologetics, scripture, theology and church history. I delved into the history of the monastic life and embarked on a minute discussion of the Rule of my own order, which we had to learn by heart. Strangely enough, God figured very little in any of this. Attention seemed focused on secondary details and the more peripheral aspects of religion. I wrestled with myself in prayer, trying to force my mind to encounter God but he remained a stern taskmaster, who observed my every infringement of the Rule, or tantalisingly absent. The more I read about the raptures of the saints, the more of a failure I felt. I was unhappily aware that what little religious experience I had, had somehow been manufactured by myself as I worked upon my own feelings and imagination. Sometimes a sense of devotion was an aesthetic response to the beauty of the Gregorian chant and the liturgy. But nothing had actually happened to me from a source beyond myself. I never glimpsed the God described by the prophets and mystics. Jesus Christ, about whom we talked far more than about ‘God’, seemed a purely historical figure, inextricably embedded in late antiquity. I also began to have grave doubts about some of the doctrines of the Church. How could anybody possibly know for certain that the man Jesus had been God incarnate and what did such a belief mean? Did the New Testament really teach the elaborate – and highly contradictory – doctrine of the Trinity or was this, like so many other articles of the faith, a fabrication by theologians centuries after the death of Christ in Jerusalem?

Eventually, with regret, I left the religious life and once freed of the burden of failure and inadequacy, I felt my belief in God slip quietly away. He had never really impinged upon my life, though I had done my best to enable him to do so. Now that I no longer felt so guilty and anxious about him, he became too remote to be a reality. My interest in religion continued, however, and I made a number of television programmes about the early history of Christianity and the nature of the religious experience. The more I learned about the history of religion, the more my earlier misgivings were justified. The doctrines that I had accepted without question as a child were indeed man-made, constructed over a long period of time. Science seemed to have disposed of the Creator God and biblical scholars had proved that Jesus had never claimed to be divine. As an epileptic, I had flashes of vision that I knew to be a mere neurological defect: had the visions and raptures of the saints also been a mere mental quirk? Increasingly, God seemed an aberration, something that the human race had outgrown.

Despite my years as a nun, I do not believe that my experience of God is unusual. My ideas about God were formed in childhood and did not keep abreast of my growing knowledge in other disciplines. I had revised simplistic childhood views of Father Christmas; I had come to a more mature understanding of the complexities of the human predicament than had been possible in the kindergarten. Yet my early, confused ideas about God had not been modified or developed. People without my peculiarly religious background may also find that their notion of God was formed in infancy. Since those days, we have put away childish things and have discarded the God of our first years.

Yet my study of the history of religion has revealed that human beings are spiritual animals. Indeed, there is a case for arguing that Homo sapiens is also Homo religiosus. Men and women started to worship gods as soon as they became recognisably human; they created religions at the same time as they created works of art. This was not simply because they wanted to propitiate powerful forces but these early faiths expressed the wonder and mystery that seems always to have been an essential component of the human experience of this beautiful yet terrifying world. Like art, religion has been an attempt to find meaning and value in life, despite the suffering that flesh is heir to. Like any other human activity, religion can be abused but it seems to have been something that we have always done. It was not tacked on to a primordially secular nature by manipulative kings and priests but was natural to humanity. Indeed, our current secularism is an entirely new experiment, unprecedented in human history. We have yet to see how it will work. It is also true to say that our Western liberal humanism is not something that comes naturally to us; like an appreciation of art or poetry, it has to be cultivated. Humanism is itself a religion without God – not all religions, of course, are theistic. Our ethical secular ideal has its own disciplines of mind and heart and gives people the means of finding faith in the ultimate meaning of human life that were once provided by the more conventional religions.

When I began to research this history of the idea and experience of God in the three related monotheistic faiths of Judaism, Christianity and Islam, I expected to find that God had simply been a projection of human needs and desires. I thought that ‘he’ would mirror the fears and yearnings of society at each stage of its development. My predictions were not entirely unjustified but I have been extremely surprised by some of my findings and I wish that I had learned all this thirty years ago, when I was starting out in the religious life. It would have saved me a great deal of anxiety to hear – from eminent monotheists in all three faiths – that instead of waiting for God to descend from on high, I should deliberately create a sense of him for myself. Other Rabbis, priests and Sufis would have taken me to task for assuming that God was – in any sense – a reality ‘out there’; they would have warned me not to expect to experience him as an objective fact that could be discovered by the ordinary rational process. They would have told me that in an important sense God was a product of the creative imagination, like the poetry and music that I found so inspiring. A few highly respected monotheists would have told me quietly and firmly that God did not really exist – and yet that ‘he’ was the most important reality in the world.

This book will not be a history of the ineffable reality of God itself, which is beyond time and change, but a history of the way men and women have perceived him from Abraham to the present day. The human idea of God has a history, since it has always meant something slightly different to each group of people who have used it at various points of time. The idea of God formed in one generation by one set of human beings could be meaningless in another. Indeed, the statement: ‘I believe in God’ has no objective meaning, as such, but like any other statement it only means something in context, when proclaimed by a particular community. Consequently there is not one unchanging idea contained in the word ‘God’ but the word contains a whole spectrum of meanings, some of which are contradictory or even mutually exclusive. Had the notion of God not had this flexibility, it would not have survived to become one of the great human ideas. When one conception of God has ceased to have meaning or relevance, it has been quietly discarded and replaced by a new theology. A fundamentalist would deny this, since fundamentalism is anti-historical: it believes that Abraham, Moses and the later prophets all experienced their God in exactly the same way as people do today. Yet if we look at our three religions, it becomes clear that there is no objective view of ‘God’: each generation has to create the image of God that works for them. The same is true of atheism. The statement ‘I do not believe in God’ has always meant something slightly different at each period of history. The people who have been dubbed ‘atheists’ over the years have always been denied a particular conception of the divine. Is the ‘God’ who is rejected by atheists today, the God of the patriarchs, the God of the prophets, the God of the philosophers, the God of the mystics or the God of the eighteenth-century deists? All these deities have been venerated as the God of the Bible and the Koran by Jews, Christians and Muslims at various points of their history. We shall see that they are very different from one another. Atheism has often been a transitional state: thus Jews, Christians and Muslims were all called ‘atheists’ by their pagan contemporaries because they had adopted a revolutionary notion of divinity and transcendence. Is modern atheism a similar denial of a God’ which is no longer adequate to the problems of our time?

Despite its other-worldliness, religion is highly pragmatic. We hall see that it is far more important for a particular idea of God to work than for it to be logically or scientifically sound. As soon as it ceases to be effective it will be changed – sometimes for something radically different. This did not disturb most monotheists before our own day because they were quite clear that their ideas about God were not sacrosanct but could only be provisional. They were man-made – they could be nothing else – and quite separate from the indescribable Reality they symbolised. Some developed quite audacious ways of emphasising this essential distinction. One medieval mystic went so far as to say that this ultimate Reality – mistakenly called ‘God’ – was not even mentioned in the Bible. Throughout history, men and women have experienced a dimension of the spirit that seems to transcend the mundane world. Indeed, it is an arresting characteristic of the human mind to be able to conceive concepts that go beyond it in this way. However we choose to interpret it, this human experience of transcendence has been a fact of life. Not everybody would regard it as divine: Buddhists, as we shall see, would deny that their visions and insights are derived from a supernatural source; they see them as natural to humanity. All the major religions, however, would agree that it is impossible to describe this transcendence in normal conceptual language. Monotheists have called this transcendence ‘God’ but they have hedged this around with important provisos. Jews, for example, are forbidden to pronounce the sacred Name of God and Muslims must not attempt to depict the divine in visual imagery. The discipline is a reminder that the reality that we call ‘God’ exceeds all human expression.

This will not be a history in the usual sense, since the idea of God has not evolved from one point and progressed in a linear fashion to a final conception. Scientific notions work like that but the ideas of art and religion do not. Just as there are only a given number of themes in love poetry, so too people have kept saying the same things about God over and over again. Indeed, we shall find a striking similarity in Jewish, Christian and Muslim ideas of the divine. Even though Jews and Muslims both find the Christian doctrines of the Trinity and Incarnation almost blasphemous, they have produced their own versions of these controversial theologies. Each expression of these universal themes is slightly different, however, showing the ingenuity and inventiveness of the human imagination as it struggles to express its sense of ‘God’.

Because this is such a big subject, I have deliberately confined myself to the One God worshipped by Jews, Christians and Muslims, though I have occasionally considered pagan, Hindu and Buddhist conceptions of ultimate reality to make a monotheistic point clearer. It seems that the idea of God is remarkably close to ideas in religions that developed quite independently. Whatever conclusions we reach about the reality of God, the history of this idea must tell us something important about the human mind and the nature of our aspiration. Despite the secular tenor of much Western society, the idea of God still affects the lives of millions of people. Recent surveys have shown that ninety-nine per cent of Americans say that they believe in God: the question is which ‘God’ of the many on offer do they subscribe to?

Theology often comes across as dull and abstract but the history of God has been passionate and intense. Unlike some other conceptions of the ultimate, it was originally attended by agonising struggle and stress. The prophets of Israel experienced their God as a physical pain that wrenched their every limb and filled them with rage and elation. The reality that they called God was often experienced by monotheists in a state of extremity: we shall read of mountain tops, darkness, desolation, crucifixion and terror. The Western experience of God seemed particularly traumatic. What was the reason for this inherent strain? Other monotheists spoke of light and transfiguration. They used very daring imagery to express the complexity of the reality they experienced, which went far beyond the orthodox theology. There has recently been a revived interest in mythology, which may indicate a widespread desire for a more imaginative expression of religious truth. The work of the late American scholar Joseph Campbell has become extremely popular: he has explored the perennial mythology of mankind, linking ancient myths with those still current in traditional societies, is often assumed that the three God-religions are devoid of mythology and poetic symbolism. Yet, although monotheists originally rejected the myths of their pagan neighbours, these often crept back into the faith at a later date. Mystics have seen God incarnated a woman, for example. Others reverently speak of God’s sexuality and have introduced a female element into the divine.

This brings me to a difficult point. Because this God began as a specifically male deity, monotheists have usually referred to it as ‘he’. In recent years, feminists have understandably objected to this. Since I shall be recording the thoughts and insights of people who called God ‘he’, I have used the conventional masculine terminology, except when ‘it’ has been more appropriate. Yet it is perhaps worth mentioning that the masculine tenor of God-talk is particularly problematic in English. In Hebrew, Arabic and French, however, grammatical gender gives theological discourse a sort of sexual counterpoint and dialectic, which provides a balance that is often lacking in English. Thus in Arabic al-Lah (the supreme name for God) is grammatically masculine, but the word for the divine and inscrutable essence of God – al-Dhat – is feminine.

All talk about God staggers under impossible difficulties. Yet monotheists have all been very positive about language at the same time as they have denied its capacity to express the transcendent reality. The God of Jews, Christians and Muslims is a God who – in some sense – speaks. His Word is crucial in all three faiths. The Word of God has shaped the history of our culture. We have to decide whether the word ‘God’ has any meaning for us today.

____________________________________

Biography Karen Armstrong is the author of numerous other books on religious affairs –including A History of God, The Battle for God, Holy War, Islam, Buddha, and The Great Transformation – and two memoirs, Through the Narrow Gate and The Spiral Staircase. Her work has been translated into forty-five languages. She has addressed members of the U.S. Congress on three occasions; lectured to policy makers at the U.S. State Department; participated in the World Economic Forum in New York, Jordan, and Davos; addressed the Council on Foreign Relations in Washington and New York; is increasingly invited to speak in Muslim countries; and is now an ambassador for the UN Alliance of Civilizations. In February 2008 she was awarded the TED Prize and is currently working with TED on a major international project to launch and propagate a Charter for Compassion, created online by the general public and crafted by leading thinkers in Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, and Buddhism, to be signed in the fall of 2009 by a thousand religious and secular leaders. She lives in London.

_______________________________________

From Publishers Weekly This searching, profound comparative history of the three major monotheistic faiths fearlessly illuminates the sociopolitical ground in which religious ideas take root, blossom and mutate. Armstrong, a British broadcaster, commentator on religious affairs.., argues that Judaism, Christianity and Islam each developed the idea of a personal God, which has helped believers to mature as full human beings. Yet Armstrong also acknowledges that the idea of a personal God can be dangerous, encouraging us to judge, condemn and marginalize others. Recognizing this, each of the three monotheisms, in their different ways, developed a mystical tradition grounded in a realization that our human idea of God is merely a symbol of an ineffable reality. To Armstrong, modern, aggressively righteous fundamentalists of all three faiths represent “a retreat from God.” She views as inevitable a move away from the idea of a personal God who behaves like a larger version of ourselves, and welcomes the grouping of believers toward a notion of God that “works for us in the empirical age.”

_______________________________________

My wish: The Charter for Compassion – Karen Armstrong

Karen Armstrong TED Talk given in 2008

What God is, or isn’t, will continue to morph indefinitely unless…

_______________________________________

Richard Barlow:

‘The whole thing about the messiah is a human construct’

The Divine Principle: Questions to consider about Old Testament figures

How “God’s Day” was established on January 1, 1968

_______________________________________

Divine Principle – Parallels of History

_______________________________________

“… Many Koreans therefore have difficulty understanding and accepting religions that have only one god and emphasize an uncertain and unknowable afterlife rather than the here and now. In the Korean context of things, such religions are anti-life and do not really make sense…” LINK

#Karen Armstrong #God #monotheism

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dewitty1 · 4 years

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The Boy Who Lived Next Door

RuArcher (Coriesocks) @coriesocks

Chapters: 7/7

Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Additional Tags: art dealer Draco Malfoy, shopkeeper Harry Potter, tiny dog, Diagon Alley, Reunions, Enemies to Lovers, to enemies again, Then lovers, Misunderstandings, Realisation of feelings, refusal of feelings, sentient portrait, draco being a sassy knobhead, harry being super fit, no sleeves no masters, Art, Music, bacon sandwiches, Kissing, Coffee, apple turnovers, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, Past Relationship(s), Drinking, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Bacon, Getting Back Together Summary:

The last time Draco Malfoy saw Harry Potter, Draco was bent over a desk in an empty classroom, begging for more. Right before Harry walked out of his life for good. Which was fine. It’d been fifteen years and Draco was obviously over him, thank you very much. He had a nice life and a successful art gallery and no space for noisy neighbours (having sex) or tiny dogs (slobbering) or Harry’s unreasonably muscular arms (wow, where did they come from). If only Harry would just, like, leave him alone... or something.

Excerpt:

“Are you just going to sit there picking at the label of your bottle all night?” Harry asked eventually.

Draco looked down at his hands, aghast. How dare they betray his unease.

“You invited me here. The onus of entertainment falls on your shoulders, surely.”

Harry made an exasperated sound. “I was actually hoping for some kind of apology, you know, since you tried to take control of my business.”

“I don’t see why you’re getting so upset.” Draco rolled his eyes. This was better. He could deal with Harry being a bit stroppy. At least he knew where he stood now. “It was a promise made in the heat of the moment. I wasn’t trying to take control. That’s just how things work in business.”

“For fuck’s sake Draco. You’re so selfish! Do you ever think of anything beyond yourself and your own needs? I’ve tried—Merlin, save me, I’ve tried so hard—to be your friend, to move on, and you’ve been nothing but a massive shit. I don’t know why I ever thought things might be different between us this time. You still only ever think of yourself!”

“I’m selfish? You’re the one that fucked off the second things got a little difficult,” Draco snapped, Harry’s words striking him harder than he thought they would have, opening wounds he’d thought long healed. “You just left! You left me, you left your friends, you left the fucking country!”

“I…” Harry gawked at him, his mouth hanging open in a way that would have been humorous if Draco wasn’t so riled up. “Fuck you, Draco. Seriously. You dumped me. I didn’t owe you anything. I still don’t.”

“I never— I… I didn’t dump you. I told you I had to get married—which you knew, by the way. You’re the one who got pissy about it and left mid-shag. You’re the one you didn’t even try to convince me to… to…”

“To what? You didn’t exactly act like you wanted convincing of anything. You had it all worked out; keeping me on the side while you played happy families with your wife. Didn’t you ever once stop to consider what I wanted?”

“I was always thinking about what you wanted!” Draco shouted. Harry blinked at him and Draco had to close his eyes. He took a breath, willed his voice to remain steady. “If I really was as selfish as you say, I would have kept you all to myself, but that never could have happened, not back then, and not without a fight.”

“Why?”

“Because… because you’re you and I’m me. I needed to rebuild the Malfoy name, secure my legacy, make a future for myself when everyone had already written me off, and I could hardly do that as the man who… who turned the Savior queer. I mean, for fuck’s sake, you weren’t even out, Harry. You knew how people would have reacted if they found out about us, so you were just as keen to keep it quiet as I was,” he finished weakly, knowing it was a shitty excuse even as he said it.

“So it’s all my fault?” Harry glared at him, body was stiff, his wand hand clenching at his side. He looked ready to hex someone and Draco cast a cautious glance around the room to check for signs of him losing control of his magic. He didn’t fancy being decapitated by any stray vinyl. “I wanted a proper relationship,” Harry continued, his voice quiet, trembling. “I wanted hand-holding in the corridors and cuddling in the common room, Hogsmeade dates and being able to call you my boyfriend. I wanted what everyone else got to do with their boyfriends and girlfriends, but I kept everything secret for you. I hid an important part of myself because it was what you wanted, hoping that if I showed you we were worth it, if I could get you to like me as much as I liked you, then maybe we’d get a chance to do things properly. And then you repaid me by telling me you wanted me to stay your dirty little secret. This is on you.”

Draco didn’t know what to say. He’d wanted all those things too—so, so badly. His heart ached with all the opportunities he’d missed because he was too much of a fucking coward to take a chance. He’d been so brainwashed by his upbringing, he’d thought the only thing he could do to restore his reputation, the Malfoy reputation, was to continue with the plan his father had drilled into him since he was small. And maybe there’d been another way. If Harry had only said these things at the time… would he have done anything different? Could it have actually worked? The beer in his stomach soured and churned. He felt sick he—

His spiralling thoughts were interrupted by a rhythmic banging, horribly familiar and wholly unexpected since the person he’d assumed was the source of that noise was currently pacing the room like a cantankerous lion.

“Is there someone here?”

Harry snapped his head around, drawn out of his sulk. “No? What the hell, Draco. Did you listen to a word I just said?”

“There must be someone here,” Draco muttered. He got up, ignoring Harry, and strode out into the hall, pushing open the door to Harry’s bedroom, fully prepared to encounter one (or more) people in a compromising position. Had Harry invited him around for some kind of sex party? Only, the instant the door swung open, he realised it wasn’t a bedroom but a kitchen. A fairly uninspired one at that. What was a kitchen doing here?

“It’s a kitchen,” Draco said redundantly.

“What are you on? What did you think you’d find?” Harry peered over Draco’s shoulder. He sounded pissed off—probably worried Draco was about to stumble into his secret sex dungeon.

Draco cocked his head to the side, listening intently. The sound was definitely coming from this room, but it was clearly devoid of copulating people so where… He zeroed in on the rattling appliance in the corner, against the wall which Draco’s bed backed on to.

“A washing machine?”

“Jesus fuck, Draco. Are you having a breakdown? Should I call someone?”

“It was a washing machine!” He laughed, the sound hysterical even to his own ears, so Circe only knew what he sounded like to Harry. Stumbling back onto the landing he thrust open the other doors: a bathroom, a study, and then, behind the final door, opposite the kitchen and as far away from the wall adjoining Draco’s flat it was possible to get, was Harry’s bedroom.

Just to make absolutely sure he wasn’t being deceived, Draco bent down and checked under the bed, but by this point, wasn’t really surprised to find it devoid of cowering sex-party goers.

“Okay. I’m Flooing Pansy,” Harry said, sounding almost frightened. “Or Blaise. Or Hermione. Fuck it. I’m Flooing everyone. You must have been drugged or something. Did you accept any food from a stranger? Any weird looking drinks?”

Draco rounded on him. Harry had gone from anger to concern so quickly that Draco was almost certain what he was about to do wouldn’t be taken the wrong way. Everything Harry had done over the last few months took on a new slant now he knew Harry wasn’t pounding someone into his mattress every other night. Draco grabbed him by the shoulders, feeling muscles tighten beneath his hands. “Shut up. Just… stop talking, you—”

He closed the distance between them and captured Harry’s lips in a kiss before he could talk himself out of it. Seconds stretched on for an age, but then he felt Harry shift, tilting his head and parting his lips and deepening the kiss.

It was… it was like being eighteen again, but not. Gone was the rashness, the overconfidence, the need to take take take as quickly as they could because who knew when they’d get another chance. Harry’s cheeks were rougher, the stubble he now favoured scratching against Draco’s clean-shaven jaw, but his lips were still soft, and the way they fitted with Draco’s was so heart-wrenchingly familiar, it was like coming home.

They pulled apart, just a fraction, and Draco let out a shaky breath as Harry’s hands crept up his sides and wrapped around his back; a soft, uncertain embrace he hadn’t even realised he missed.

Harry leant back and looked up at him, his eyes slightly glazed, his lips shining. “You, uh, you really like washing machines then?”

Draco stared at him, confused, until, “Oh, fuck off.” He laughed, shaking his head slightly and Harry grinned at him, amusement dancing in his eyes. Merlin, he was beautiful. Draco wanted to kiss him again, wanted to never stop kissing him now they’d done it again.

#The Boy Who Lived Next Door #ruarcher #Drarry #Drarry fanfiction #drarry squad #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Hd Tropes Fest 2019 #Drarry Fic rec #fic rec #Carey's personal Bookmarks #Carey's bookmark fic recs

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catubarca · 4 years

Text

Harry Potter Next Generation Headcanons

im bored. im full of emotions, and am rly missing the HP world... i just want to write down my headcannons for the next gen kiddos tbh.

please remember these are just my opinions? its okay if yours are different. im just bored and want to share my thoughts,,

Teddy Lupin

his name is Theodore Remus “Teddy” Lupin. it’s just what it is

I don’t care what JKR says, to me his name will always be Theodore

i can’t do this “Edward” stuff im so sorry,,,

h u f f l e p u f f

proper school uniform? never heard of it

messy hair, messy clothes

punk rock child

we’re talking like,,,at least two (2) lip piercings ok

absolutely terrible in herbology. do not leave this child alone in a greenhouse, bad things happen

fuckin hoards chocolate

its a problem

dating Victorie Weasley

random bursts of dancing

keeps a lock of hair pink for his mother

lives with the Potters, enjoys pretending to be Ginny to ground his siblings

“Lily, why aren’t you coming out of your room? Dinner’s ready?” “You said I’m grounded! You tell me!” “What? Oh, for the- THEODORE REMUS LUPIN-“

s m i r k s

effortlessly cool,,, but so so dorky,,, in a cool way

Victorie Weasley

ravenclaw!

looks a lot like her mother, Fleur, but inherited those Weasley freckles

a little confused a lot of the time

absolute sweet tooth (teddy abuses this fact a lot)

Mom Friend™

will help you with your homework

always got a book on her

super beautiful and like,,,, the absolute nicest person,,, but

cannot dance

like at all

adores Charms class

a softie you don’t want to cross

“I’m the oldest”

Dominique Weasley

inherited the Classic Weasley Red Hair™

idolises her Uncle Charlie

“I wanna save animals and work with cool dragons, just like Uncle Charlie does!”

Bill almost has a heart attack

always bringing stray animals home

(“is that a lizard in your pocket, Dominique?” “Yes! His name is Blob.” “You know how your father’s afraid of reptiles, sweetheart, you can’t bring it inside.”)

Gryffindor child

favourite class is definitely Care of Magical Creatures, she and Hagrid like to talk about proper care methods for rare creatures

perpetual dirt stains

BIG middle child vibes

doesn’t really label her sexuality… just kinda does what she wants rly

all the pets in Hogwarts love her

rumours are she’s got an innate, natural magical ability to make them all love her

(she feeds them under the table)

it’s a mystery

big advocate for animal rights

f e m i n i s t

willing to throw hands at all times

usually all smiles though

one of those people who use their whole bodies to laugh

kind of an accidental heartthrob

romcoms

Louis Weasley

looks the most like his mother

ravenclaw

absolutely filled with curiosity. always reading or talking or learning

random facts

(how do you even find that sort of information?

you don’t want to know)

coffee boy

sort of musically talented?

he and James Sirius preach the importance of skincare to all who will listen

secretly full of sass and dry wit

vry graceful and fluid

e y e r o l l

awkward smiles? can never smile properly in photos

on the ravenclaw quidditch team

Ravenclaw Prefect

(“You might be older, but I’m taller.” “Fuck off!”)

only watches High Quality™ tv shows/media

kind of a disaster, despite the gracefulness

Molly Weasley

Classic red hair

comes across as a bit uptight, like her father

I don’t care what you think. (She really cares what you think.)

E y e b r o w s

death glares

drinks like 5 cups of coffee in the morning

studies,,, like a lot

definitely a Gryffindor though

mom jeans

always ready to debate a topic. will destroy opponents.

has been trying to start a successful Debate Club for like 4 years now

naturally falls into the position of a group leader

would be a teacher’s pet, if she wasn’t ready At All Times™ to debate the relevancy of the course syllabus or outdated teaching methods

got into a fight with Severus Snape’s portrait in Headmistress McGonagall’s office.

(Dumbledore’s portrait was laughing, until she turned and ragged on him for a bit. Minerva thought it was absolutely hilarious, so she just let Molly go at it for a while).

full of rage towards everything, but wears a very careful mask of aloofness

to calm down, she likes painting her nails

she’s very good at it

she’s also very good at painting and art in general, weirdly enough

Lucy Weasley

G R Y F F I N D O R

adores shitty puns and has a terrible sense of humour

brown hair, not red

loves to prank people, which makes her Uncle George very proud

Percy complains about her behaviour, but makes sure he knows he’s proud too

(charming all the cauldrons in the potions classroom to scream whenever they’re stirred takes a more complex understanding of spell work than one would expect).

a pit of a punk streak

rly loves hip hop

high key drama queen

does she ever stop yelling? we’re yet to find out

average grades in terms of theory, but she’s the best in terms of applying information

especially for her pranks

has allies throughout the castle, from the portraits to the students

the bigger the prank, the better

but is a firm believer in “confuse, don’t abuse”

all her pranks are mostly harmless

is a surprising lover of older literature, like Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, an influence of her sister

a bit rebellious

Fred Weasley II

name isn’t officially “the second”, but it sounds cooler

James Potter, Lucy Weasley, Molly Weasley and Fred Weasley are like the Marauders 2.0

says “squad” and “lit” unironically

niche humour

hipster vibes

avid music lover

smiley sunshine child

takes after his mother the most in looks, just like his sister

a chill type of gryffindor

plays quidditch, and is an excellent chaser, just like his mother

the absolute undisputed King™ of puppy-dog eyes

just,,,, beautiful

the True teacher’s pet

hands in his work on time,, asks lots of questions,,, likes helping students understand their work,, what a boy

can hella nyoom

runs so fast

look at him go

as you might expect, loves a good prank. always down for a laugh

Roxanne Weasley

Gryffindor and pROUD

absolute Queen tbh

was definitely Head Prefect or Gryffindor Prefect at some point

loved by the school

absolute legend

G I R L P O W E R

infectious laughter

has a soft spot for Louis Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy

these poor disaster children,,,, they need a Mother

M O M

big mom vibes

mothers the hell out of all the first years

a feminist through and through

can be found nodding aggressively to Molly Weasley’s semi-deranged, furious ranting

YAAAASS

loves slang. uses so much slang. always up to date with trends and memes

has all the gossip

becomes a mess around pretty girls

absolute blushing, stuttering disaster around cute girls oh my god

her eye make-up game is killer

sparkly

Distinguished Lesbian

Rosie Weasley

did someone say Weasley™?

red hair and freckles and curls oh my

on the autism spectrum, has trouble socialising sometimes

hella passionate about stuff

hangs out with Scorpius and Albus, the Golden Trio 2.0

f em ini st

her jokes are the best. high quality sense of humour.

Ravenclaw

likes to read. it’s quiet in the school library, which is nice.

abysmal at herbology

surprisingly good at Care of Magical Creatures though? Animals are just,,, so much easier to deal with

overall, really good grades though

bit of a silent type, but she’s actually a riot to hang out with

actually pretty good at quidditch? She’s not on the team, and she’s not super interested in playing, but?? She’s not bad??

She can land a solid hit with a beater’s bat

(eyes you judgementally over the top of a book)

dry wit humour

will throw hands over chess

Hugo Weasley

hufflepuff

unbeatable at chess, like his dad

a lost puppy

someone please help this child

softie

kind of low-key emotional

so supportive!! and loyal!! high-key best friend material

foodie. loves food. please feed him.

takes a bit more after his dad appearance wise

loves to cook. spends lots of time with grandma Molly and his dad in the kitchen

Professor Longbottom is his favourite professor, because he’s more chilled and laidback.

other professors and classes fill him with Distress™

loves astronomy too

maths whizz, so good at arithmancy

(“uh, actually-“)

a little bossy, like his mother

is trying so hard

maybe a little too hard

a bit insecure and nervous, but so soft

please treat this child carefully and with love

James Sirius Potter

Gryffindor

L O U D

a fucking disaster child

what’d you expect, putting “James” and “Sirius” together?

DRAMATIC GASPING

flails his hands around when he talks

s t r u t s

bisexual mess, had a crush on both the Longbottom children at some point

is better than you at everything

including being a different gender

fuck you that’s why

so pretty

he’s so pretty

is thIS CHILD EVER NOT LAUGHING AT SOMETHING OH My god

laughs at everything

all the time

always

high-key emotional

badly timed finger guns

looks like a model in photos? wtf?

gets invited to Girls Nights™

wears nail polish and makeup

loves to yell at people about gender roles and defying stereotypes

TEA SIS

not on the quidditch team surprisingly enough, even though he’s pretty good

prefers to be in the stands, doing A+ commentary on the games

if he can get Fred to stop mid-air due to unbearable, suffocating laughter at least once a game it’s a win in his books

has it OUT for the hufflepuff quidditch team and no one knows why??

definitely makes puns on his name

it drives everyone insane

harry always replies he’s just making his namesake proud

that also drives everyone insane

smug lil shit

Albus Severus Potter

“It’s just Al.”

S L Y T H E R I N

will always find a way to get what he wants, eventually

“dad, why did you name me this way?”

unimpressed

sigh

hella smart. is topping at least five classes

Aunt Hermione is his favourite. She’s the fucking Mistress of Magic! All that power, the ability to make change and improve the Magical World as a whole-

sass master

the reason headmistress mcgonagall keeps a bottle of scotch under her desk at all times

the only potter child to inherit The Eyes™

absolute insomniac

kind of emo, but turns into a fucking softie around Scorpius Malfoy it’s hilarious

adverse to violence. prefers a verbal beatdown method

really tall? despite having shorties for parents??? no one saw it coming

(especially not Teddy. He’s always scared of losing his last few inches of height)

Functional Gay

he’s on the slytherin quidditch team, as a seeker

Lily Luna Potter

Gryffindor

FEMINIST

do not mess with lily luna potter

she may seem cute and sweet, but she will destroy you

inherited her father’s black hair

disaster lesbian

transfiguration is her favourite subject, by far

has no idea what she wants to do with the rest of her life.

Existential Crisis Father-Daughter Bonding Time™

do you ever sleep?

takes after Ginny the most in personality

also, kind of the most like James Fleamont Potter in personality, too?

Loves to help her brother out with pranks, laughs at him when he gets caught and she gets away with it

The only one of the Potter Children who hasn’t got into a fight with Severus Snape’s portrait

because she just ignores him instead

loves talking to the portraits around the castle

Super good at Quidditch, is on the team as a Chaser

Quidditch Captain at some point

adores Hagrid, but who out of the Potter children doesn’t?

Idolises Minerva McGonagall

just as oblivious as her father

Scorpius Malfoy

Actually in Ravenclaw, not Slytherin, much to many people’s surprise

abSOLUTE DADDY’S BOY

super close with his dad

Draco is just so supportive of like everything he does (unlike his father)

classic blonde malfoy looks

actually really funny?

a cuddler. loves hugs. always leeching warmth off of someone

he and Rosie sometimes finger-tip-touch which is their version of a hug, because he know’s she’s not super comfortable with touch

was basically adopted by the Weasley’s and Potter’s

James Sirius will murder for this child

booknerd, always rambling to Al and Rosie about new books coming out he’s interested in reading.

has had a crush on Albus Potter since like 1st year

always worried about making his dad proud, and keeping up the Malfoy name

sweet tooth

he’s just,, soft. just a warm, happy child. he wants love, and affection. someone tell him he’s doing okay, please.

needs,,, validation,,,

he’ll tell you out loud that he has no favourite aunts or uncles, but he secretly really likes spending time with his Uncle Ron

they had a talk, once, in like the middle of the night at a sleepover with Rosie and Al, about feeling insecure in comparison to others, and learning to be proud of yourself for your achievements

there were a few tears, but it was nice

Ron was actually the third person he told, besides his dad and Rosie, about having a crush on Al

openly a disaster romantic. trash taste in romance novels.

always welcome in the Potter-Weasley households

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dysfunctionalbatfam · 4 years

Note

Do you have any advice/tips/tricks for new artists?

I’m definitely not the most qualified for this but I’ll try my best!! 😅

I kind of started out sort of using other artists’ art as references (just personal studies that I threw away right after) - that’s how I actually got into drawing. I did it for fun and when I finished I thought, “Huh. Neat” (even though it was terrible) and then I just tried a few more. Unlike working from real references, some artists may choose to have a style that’s more simplified and easier to understand. (Do keep in mind that you should never just trace it and repost online.)

Another thing I took from were speedpaints and tutorials - and they don’t really all help me, but they at least give me some motivation, even if they make it look overwhelmingly easy. They help break down the steps and give you a process so that you don’t only see the masterful finished product and that the beginnings can be rough. There has been, however, two (2) that really did help a lot. (Probably will drop the talented users in the tags 💞💞)

And honestly? Most of it has been just, making up shit, and that’s okay! Even if you have no idea what you’re doing, it’s not going to hurt your art progress, and often times you learn from them. Explore things, different styles, programs, tools, until you find some you’re comfortable with. And don’t worry if you’re unsure, this process takes a ton of time, so just keep exploring. Sometimes you just gotta say “This looks bad to me, but it helped me learn this and that.”

Another good thing to do is find a group of friends willing to support you! You could share your shitposts to more serious drawings and get their feedback. Bounce off ideas off each other, find other artists. People encouraging you to push on can do more than you’d think.

This is said. A lot. You hear it everywhere, but it’s commonly said for a reason, y’know? Practice. Practicing is so much of the gig. No one’s going to automatically be amazing at art, which also means that if your art isn’t what you want it to be right now? Doesn’t mean it’s never gonna get there. Try your best to draw everyday! Don’t worry if it varies, do whatever the fuck you want, this is for you. A two second scribble one day and a portrait study the next? Heck yeah.

Last general advice, methinks, is to use references. I’m a huge hypocrite for this because I just. Randomly put stuff down. But don’t ever be afraid to use them. They’re a resource all artists have used.

Onto more technical stuff -

Digital Art Programs (that I’ve tested and would recommend)

-Firealpaca (computer) and Medibang (computer & tablet): Always my recommendations. They’re absolutely free and easy to install, yet they offer such a reliable program. They’re basically the same, to be honest

-Krita (computer): I don’t really know how to use this but it’s free and capable of producing gorgeous pieces of art.

-Photoshop (computer & tablet): I started with this, it’s pretty good, but my personal issues made it just keep crashing, so I’m not very versed in it 😅 but it lives up to its hype.

-Procreate (tablet): Good for painting, but lineart is a little harder, in my opinion. The brush stabilization is wack. But it’s very comfortable and whelming to use, worth the ten bucks. You can also download a fuck ton of free brushes online, always a plus (I SWEAR I get twenty more every day)

-Autodesk Sketchbook (tablet & computer [?]): The interface is very similar to Procreate, so if you want a subsititute for Procreate, go ahead! In my opinion, it’s a little harder to use, though.

-Paint Tool Sai (computer) and Clip Studio Paint (both): Never tried, but probably really good, I know a lot of people who use them.

[Do keep in mind that starting out with free programs is enough, and many extremely good artists stick with them!]

Traditional art stuff -

-Same stuff applies, you don’t need advanced supplies to create good art!

-Hoard sketchbooks like a dragon, eat hot chip, and cry

-A lot of professional artists prefer sketching/inking traditionally and then digitally coloring it

-My favorite traditional supplies are charcoal pencils, if that’s anything? 😂 I find them more comfortable to use than pencils.

-You can tell I can’t do traditional to save my life, I’m SO sorry if you do traditional dhdkhd

-Brushes can be bought cheap!! They’ll still work just as well (many supplies that come cheaper are still good, I got a whole set with paint, a sketchbook, etc. for under twenty USD)

-Some advice I took from a youtube video somewhere: Have two notebooks, one for more serious artwork and one just to do anything in, as we know we all have failures and get nervous to fuck up. This ensures that you unleash your creativity! In that notebook, don’t worry about making your drawings look good, just put your ideas down.

This is getting to the point that I’m just rambling, so I’ll end it here. Hope it helps, even though I should follow my own advice- ❤️❤️❤️ good luck, you GOT this, anon!

#absolute-0zero was the first person who i had used references from for fun #very neat and simple linework #tutorials i liked: nac-nic /speedpaints i liked: kurawastaken #not dc #art tips #art refs #i guess #i am NOT qualified #very honored 🥺💞 but why me i can’t draw hskdhkdhkd #asks #long post #sorry #didn't cover anatomy and shit because nac-nic will do it way better #i can't anatomy myself rp #their art is 100 you won't regre it

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phoenotopia · 4 years

Text

2019 December Update

The game is officially playable from beginning to end!

That battle has concluded...

Soon begins the war! But first, a brief reprieve for the holidays.

And I must throw in the usual caveats. We're still playtesting, we're still polishing, we still gotta get age ratings, more red tape, etc etc. And most importantly, we need to figure out the launch strategy. Think Megaman, charging his shot for 5 and a half years... We're not allowed to miss at this point. It has to HIT.

Luckily, we're in a relatively stable position where we don't have to rush the game out immediately. It's not LAUNCH or STARVE - it's... take some time to aim a little. We don't want to launch in the shadow of a bigger behemoth game, and we don't want to launch completely unknown either. We have to build up the game's media presence, which has been neglected so far. I know it's annoying to have to continue to wait... but please bear with us a little longer!

Here's what we've been doing for the past couple months.

---------- THE SCRIPT ----------

The script sits at over 80,000 words. I didn't realize the significance until a teammate told me that that's actually as long as a novel! I looked it up, and sure enough, it's a little longer than the first Harry Potter. But unlike Harry Potter, hardly any of these words are wasted on, pffft, narration. It's all juicy dialogue!

(Some of the game's golden nuggets of dialogue)

There was actually a lot of mundanity getting to the end. Pirate, acting as my editor, caught tons of errors and inconsistencies. One of the most recurring issues had to do with capitalization. I like to capitalize things, often inconsistently. Some common questions that arose:

Why is this text highlighted yellow, and this one highlighted blue?

Why is this monster name capitalized, but this monster not?

Why is this item capitalized, and this one not?

... and so on!

All very mundane issues, but all very necessary to tackle. And there was a TON of 'em. (em vs 'em was another thing we had to make consistent). I actually did some research to see what capitalization rules Zelda had. From what I could tell, when it comes to animals and monsters in the Zelda universe:

All monsters are capitalized

All regular animals are not capitalized

The Cuccos are special, and ARE capitalized

(a collage of Zelda pictures I assembled to study)

In the Zelda universe, all regular items are lowercase, but highlighted blue when mentioned in a quest context (e.g. "butter", "hylian wheat"). Items can be uppercase, if they are special named items (e.g. "Sheikah Slate"). We adopted similar rules as Zelda in some cases, and deviated in others. For instance, in the Phoenotopia universe, there isn't a clear distinction between animals and monsters - that fish monster is really just an animal that happens to be the alpha predator in its natural habitat. So most entities are lowercase, but "big deal" entities can be uppercase.

(we made a formal document to consult whenever a question regarding capitalization arises)

---------- A SAMPLING of QUEST AND CHARACTERS ----------

A lot of new quests have arisen in our great writing effort extending over the past several months. And with it, new characters, big and small. I'll tease a sampling of some of them here (warning: some light spoilers ahead):

My favorite new quest is undoubtedly our game's new "Trading Quest". This one takes inspiration from the Zelda series - the trading quest similarly has you roaming the world and its towns in search of needy people who desire a particular item. Deliver them the item they desire, and get a new item. Do this 10 times, and the ultimate weapon awaits you at the end.

I tried some things to vary up the formula. Some NPCs don't reveal what they need right away - steps have to be taken to get them there. It's also possible to go down the wrong route in the sequence, and have to double-back. We try to keep it interesting.

---------- LOOT PLACEMENTS & GAME BALANCING ----------

A great effort was also spent towards balancing the game this past 2 months. Because even one good healing item, easily obtained, can throw the game's whole difficulty off-kilter. And this same principle applies to other areas, like the money economy and player powerup options. Altogether, they form a very delicate ecosystem for enjoyment.

One of the recent things I did for this game was put down exactly where each heart ruby, energy gem, and moonstone could be found. And this was actually a rather involved process because you have a limited number of rewards to distribute (you wouldn't want the final max HP count to be a weird number like 297). Put too many rewards in the beginning, and the late dungeons would have no rewards to offer. Put too much in the end, and the inverse happens.

I found myself going back into earlier areas and plundering their rewards to fill the later areas. And then to ensure a relatively even spread of rewards within each area themselves, I drew crude maps of the dungeons & their reward spots, so that they could be studied from a bird's eye perspective.

But it was still not enough. With NPC quests and towns also taking up their own allotment of the rewards, I found myself running low on things to distribute. So I went back to the books and upped the number of rewards across the board. Before there were 44 Heart Rubies to collect - there are now 55. Before each Heart Ruby boosted your max HP by 5, but now each one now boosts your max HP by 4, so your final max HP count would still end up the same. It's kinda similar to what happened with Twilight Princess, where they broke with tradition and made 5 heart containers required to gain a new heart instead of the usual 4. Overall, the final tally for treasure to find is:

55 heart pieces

30 energy gems

108 moon stones

Who's crazy enough to collect them all?

---------- BADGES / ACHIEVEMENTS ----------

As one of the game's finishing touches, there's a menu for BADGES - they're this game's version of achievements. This is an ongoing task that we hope to stamp out this December. A few favorites of mine from the original flash game will return ("Pillow Connoisseur" is among them).

(The menu looks like this before any badges are earned)

I allocated slots for just 33 badges, so we're selecting the badges very carefully. We got rid of most of the fluffy ones that appeared in the flash game - we wanted to reduce the number of badges that you would earn automatically for just playing the game (so no more "1st boss", "2nd boss", "3rd boss" achievements). We're aiming for a healthy mix of easily earned badges, hard earned badges, collectathon badges, secret fun badges, and so on.

The badges have another twist - they bear miniaturized portraits of characters from the game! In the initial brainstorm mockup phase, I wasn't really fond of the badge designs. You got a medal of a heart because you collected some hearts, and you got the medal of a moonstone for collecting moonstones, etc. It just seemed so... expected.

(various badge mockups)

How could we engage the players on a more fun and deep level? The idea came - what if we attached pictures of the people you meet on your journey? And these people's stories and character would have a connection with the achievement? That could keep the player guessing which character would come attached with an achievement, or even reveal a hidden detail about the character you didn't know.

---------- MUSIC ----------

Will has just one more task to do. And that's to recut the song for the trailer. One of our other goals for this December is to make a really good trailer... again. There's actually 2 other trailers we cut and never made public for reasons. Maybe I'll talk about them one day in the post-mortem.

Since this may be the last conventional update, we wondered with which song to best leave the audience. And we decided that the most suitable song is "Sanctuary". It's a song that the player will often encounter often when they happen upon a quiet resting place in the world.

There's a little story behind this song. Two and a half years ago, I linked Will the Earthbound song, "Buzz buzz's prophecy", and told him, make a song like that!

In response, Will made "Sanctuary".

Give it a listen HERE. What do you think? Did Will hit close to the greats?

---------- FAN ART ----------

Three fan arts have come in the last couple months. I display them here proudly:

Another submission by Cody G! Gale looking shy as she flashes the V sign for the camera. I like how Cody G's art is continually evolving. Note the additional detail on her eye, and how her hair is drawn extra fluffy. Very nice!

Shafiyahh is another consistent contributor, and made one in the spirit of Halloween. I really like their costumes! Gale as an angel, and Lisa as a demon, fittingly captures their relationship, since Gale is the responsible one and Lisa is the troublemaker. So cute!

A contribution from a new artist, Negativus Core! Wow, Gale looks so bada-- here! We often forget about Gale's tough side due to the cutesy graphics. This is probably how her enemies see her. And the gummy (slime) is a cute touch!

---------- FINAL NOTES ----------

Similar to last year, this will be the last update for a while. If things run too slow, I'll post a status update come end of February 2020.

It's possible, and this is a BIG IF, that something notable happens sooner than expected - like we're going to a con or we have reason to drop the trailer sooner than later. If so, this blog will update earlier than expected. BIG IF. Otherwise, it's end of February till next you hear of us.

The game's development has reached a new uncharted territory. We're going to take the time and figure out exactly what our next steps are. In addition, we'll still be doing some playtesting and script polishing. And we'll be taking a break too. It is the holiday season, things move kind of slow around this time of year. We'll enjoy the company of our family and friends.

Until then, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

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tazzytypes · 4 years

Text

Apocalypse:Sanctuary - Chapter 13

Finally! The next chapter is here! Thank you all so, so, so much for being patient. I'm working up to five hours a day, five days a week on top of college so balancing that has been a wild ride. Now— to the story!!

Read also on AO3 or see more chapters on the Masterpost!

Chapter Text

Cordelia looked down the dining room table at her girls. She loved all her students equally, but the original three held a special place in her heart. The feeling was much like a mother would feel towards her firstborn child.

Opulence covered the table, rich food on plates or in bowls that glittered from the light of the chandelier above them. Fresh flowers that never wilted were placed equally apart, tall enough to be seen and admired but not so tall as to block one's vision of the person across from them. Not a stain marked the white table. One of the perks of being magic was the ability to don white without damaging the fabric in the first few moments of wearing it.

Joining them were their two new arrivals. Coco had slowly but surely relaxed, accepting her new reality. Emily on the other hand… was resisting. Situated between Coco and Mallory, she looked between those talking, but never joined in the conversation herself.

“Coco!” Mallory exclaimed, leaning forward to see past Emily. Something was held in her hand which she tossed at the young socialite. “Try this one!”

Emily looked between the pair, leaning back as a small cake was tossed in front of her. Mallory laughed at the face the brunette made, placing a gentle hand on her arm as she apologized. The other girl’s smile of reassurance was strained.

Their attention turned to Coco, a small gurgling sound leaving her as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Most of the girls paid no mind, engulfed in their own conversations and far too used to magic to be pulled from them.

Cordelia watched the exchange with a smile, chuckling to herself as Coco waved her hand over the pastry. Emily looked upon the scene with the same wide eyes the woman had seen in the greenhouse.

Suddenly the gurgling stopped and with a blink of her eyes, the blonde seemed perfectly normal. “Yep. This has gluten.”

“That was really cool, Coco!” Mallory said, her constant smile growing a little wider as she beamed at her new friend.

“If you consider looking like you’re having a seizure is cool,” Coco said, chuckling awkwardly as she looked to Emily, “Trust me, I know how I look.”

“…it isn’t that bad,” the girl tried to offer, more out of polite behavior than actual truth.

Coco only laughed, “You’re a horrible liar.”

As the chatter roared like waves crashing onto a sandy shore, Cordelia leaned towards her red-haired mentor. She was sure to keep her voice low, just in case the revelry was not enough to mask her words.

“Do you recall any witch-hunting in the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century?”

Myrtle sipped on her cocktail, a look of surprise quickly vanishing as thin brows furrowed. “There are still witch hunters, my dear. They’re a cockroach you cannot kill. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Are there any that stand out? That were different in some way?”

“I don’t know,” the woman sighed, humming as she thought. She waved the stick of olives in her drink as she thought, biting one off when she finally came to an answer. “There was a case of a particularly powerful witch — showing enormous talent with the gift of pyromancy. A boarding school under the care of the emerging Delphi organization brought her to a creek in the middle of the woods.”

Myrle scoffed in disdain, “using the poor dear as an initiation ritual! Simply barbaric.”

“What happened to her?”

“She burned those who sought to burn her! Pushed the fire to consume them before collapsing in on itself. Wasn’t powerful enough to free herself, little as she was. Hung there for days before being saved. Then she made her way to our academy and the rest is history!”

Taking another sip from her drink, she turned to Cordelia with a raised brow. “Why do you ask, Delia?”

The Supreme’s eyes glanced over the table before she dared utter a word.

“I felt her magic,” Cordelia explained after a long moment of pause as she considered her words, “her magic is… restrained… like a tiger in a cage.”

Myrle let out a short laugh, “aren’t we all.”

“She knew that story, Myrtle,” Cordelia pressed, “she dreamed it as if she were the woman herself.”

“Seers are rare, even for our time. Two in one era would be quite the feat. A Hollywood hoax would be more reasonable than—”

“No, I tested her, Myrtle,” Cordelia said, eyes focusing on their new sister. Emily was more relaxed now, grinning and laughing as Coco told a wild tale. “She’s the real deal.”

***

First days were always stressful. Emily was beyond tired, hardly able to get some sleep the night before. In new places, it was normal to not sleep well. The body would put itself on alert just enough to react to any new threats. Emily could deal with that. It was the nightmares she could do without.

Dolls had been the bane of her childhood, creepy little creatures that didn’t blink. The brunette used to have nightmares of them as a child, but this was the first time she had one as an adult.

It was a strange dream. Quite short, as well. She was in an attic filled with dolls, tea sets, and small dresses. There was a shelf filled with the porcelain creatures. Walking towards it, she had filled with dread. Then, one of them screamed.

It was enough to make her skin crawl.

Tugging at her skirt, Emily looked around the table. There wasn’t a familiar face among the girls, no one that she had dined with the night before. The dining room was free of food, but the white roses from the night before still stood proudly in their vases.

She felt underdressed — donning a self-made crop top with a touristy “Chicago” across the front she had gotten at Ross for five dollars and a high waisted black skirt that she had found in the depths of her boxes. Where she was from, most kids rolled out of bed in their PJs and went to class.

The girls chattered amongst themselves, clad in Chanel, Ralph Lauren, and Tommy Hilfiger. She couldn’t tell one from the other, even with brand symbols proudly flaunted. Emily was just glad she liked black. The color hid the sweat from the Louisiana humidity.

God, what was she doing here?

No one bothered to speak to her, too busy talking to one another. So, she fidgeted with her bracelet and waited for the class to start, listening in on the conversations around her.

“I practiced in my room for ages and still couldn’t do it!”

“I don’t think it’s actually possible to change the color of a rose… at least, not completely. Living things are far too stubborn.”

“You’ve always preferred working with the dead.”

“It’s where my talent lies.”

“If Mallory can do it—”

“Mallory is a show-off. She was practically gloating when Miss Cordelia showed up.”

They were interrupted by someone entering the room. Emily had been so intently listening, eyes focused on the table before her, that she didn’t even note it till everyone went silent. When she looked up, Zoe was standing opposite to them with a calming smile on her lips.

“Alright girls,” she said, once again talking with her hands, “who would like to explain what we’ve been practicing?”

A girl to Emily’s left answered eagerly, “Changing the color of a rose!”

“Teacher’s pet,” the girl next to her whispered.

“Shut up!” the girl hissed.

Zoe was unaware of their banter, choosing instead to walk down the table until she settled before one of the vases. “It might seem easy to alter the color of a flower, but the rose is unique. It resists change.

“One thing’s certain. Nothing is immutable when the will of a strong woman is applied.”

She looked to her students and gestured to them. Emily turned to watch their reaction, hands reaching out to grab a rose from the vases before them. Timidly, she mirrored their actions — watching how they held it, how they looked at it, how their expressions changed.

Their teacher herself plucked one from the arrangement, holding it out in front of her like a mirror. Zoe’s fingers tightened around the stem as she felt her magic rush through her. With furrowed brows, she focused on what she wanted. Slowly, red oozed onto the petals, a crimson stain that consumed them.

“Now…” Zoe said, looking to Emily with a grin, “show me how strong you are.”

Emily didn’t do anything for a long moment, choosing instead to observe. It was strange to see people look at an object with such intensity, their jaw flexed and eyes nearly bugging out of their sockets.

Some students were able to conjure a color at the base of the petals, their eyes flickering with hope before the color faded. Others were only able to change a single petal or even the stem of the plant. One girl managed to wilt their flower into a blackened husk.

“Not again!” The girl cried, earning a little bit of laughter from her peers. “Why does this always happen?”

“You’re focusing too much on the part of you that can conjure fire,” Zoe noted, coming around the table with her rose and leaning over the girl. “Instead you focus on the…”

Emily turned back to her rose, staring down at it before lifting it up. She kept her hold on it loose as if she were a model for an 18th-century portrait.

She recalled her lessons in middle school, the water cycle and how it interacts with plant life. They had studied the way flowers take up water from their roots — how they consumed nutrients with no mouth.

There was a video she had found where someone put blue food dye into the water. After a few days, its color of the petals came to match it.

The brunette pictured that, a puddle of blue at the stem that slowly crawled upwards towards the rose. Energy crackled through the air, felt by everyone but herself.

“I got it!” The girl with the charred flower exclaimed, the flower blooming into a bright yellow color. Zoe smiled at her.

“See, you just had to—”

Another girl leaped up in her seat, “I got it, too!”

Loud conversation roared as success filled the room.

“Wow, the color is staying, too!”

“The planets must be in alignment or something.”

“I got it!”

Zoe looked upon her students with content. It was a wonderful feeling, seeing these girls succeed. She understood why Cordelia stayed with the school even when it was almost empty. There was no feeling that completed her quite as much as teaching.

Her eyes came to settle on her newest charge. Emily stared intently at a rose on the table, her hands on either side. Zoe moved to reassure her when she noticed her pallor, pink drained from her skin.

“Emily…” She said, going to rest a hand on the back of the girl’s chair. It screeched as it was flown back, a flurry of black rushing by Zoe and nearly toppling it over before they disappeared down the hall.

“Looks like someone’s first day jitters got the best of them,” one girl noted, earning a few chuckles, “Her magical gift must be indigestion.”

“Oh, like you didn’t throw up the first time you sucked the life out of a fly.”

“Shut up!!”

Zoe paid no mind to their words, already chasing after the girl. Emily pushed past a few students, almost running into a confused Cordelia who stood in the center of the hall.

Pursing her lips, Zoe hung on the frame of the dining room’s doorway. Cordelia caught her eye and looked to her with a raised brow.

“Zoe! I can’t do it anymore!”

“…Keep practicing.” Zoe said, “I’ll be right back.”

The woman spared a glance at her students before her gaze returned to the hall. Pushing herself away from the room, she started to make her way to her Supreme.

“What’s going on?” the blonde woman asked.

Zoe shook her head, “I don’t know, but I have a hunch.”

The sound of retching filled the hall, the two women glancing at one other before hurrying towards the nearest powder room. Once again, the sound came and Zoe spared a worry glance to Cordelia before gently knocking on the door.

“Emily? Emily, we’re coming in.”

Inside the room, their new student was hunched over the toilet. Panting, her back arched as she was sick once more. Vomit burned her throat and stung her nose. She hadn’t been publicly ill since she was a child. It wasn’t a situation she was particularly happy about reliving.

Cordelia knelt down at her side. Her hands went to the girl’s back, gently soothing her before moving back her hair with her other hand. Her words were hushed and comforting. “It’s alright. It’s alright.”

“Sorry,” Emily apologized once she was able to catch her breath. She rested her head on the back her hands, for once glad they were permanently frigid.

Cordelia smiled at her, pulling her hair back into a ponytail before resting her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “We all get a nervous stomach sometimes.”

“I have anxiety… this wasn’t that. It—”

Another wave of nausea rolled over her and her throat burned. Cordelia felt energy crackle in the air, but it felt weaker than before. She looked up to Zoe who simply nodded, indicating she felt the same thing.

Once the retching passed, the girl finally turned to face the woman beside her. Zoe’s hands flew to her mouth as she gasped, running into the hall.

“Queenie!”

Emily’s brow furrowed as she looked to her headmistress. Cordelia’s lips pressed into a thin line as she reached over to grab a piece of toilet paper. The brunette stiffened as she reached out to wipe something from her mouth, hand immediately going up to stop her.

Taking the toilet paper in her own hands, Emily swiped at her face. Crimson filled her hands when she pulled it back. Her eyes darted to Cordelia, wide and full of fear. The woman’s gentle touch to smooth down her hair wasn’t as comforting as the blonde thought it was.

“Oh, shit!” a voice exclaimed from the door, Queenie standing with Zoe in the doorway. ” What’s going on here?”

Cordelia’s touch on Emily’s arm was as light as a feather, gently easing her up to her feet. Brows furrowed, she watched as the girl wobbled. Her brown eyes flickered between Emily and Queenie.

“Please take Emily up to her room,” Cordelia said, “Zoe and I will go to the greenhouse and make a remedy.”

Queenie simply nodded, coming forward and allowing the girl to lean on her. One of her hands wound around Emily’s waist to keep her steady. “I got you, girl.”

Emily closed her eyes as the world spun, only able to offer Queenie a thankful nod. Slowly, but surely, they began to walk down the hall. Cordelia watched them go, step by step. She wracked her brain for a remedy.

“There’s something different about her,” Zoe finally spoke once the student in question was out of earshot. “I—”

“Can feel her power?” Cordelia said, sparing her a glance. “So can I.”

“I think she was giving power to the other girls… not willingly. More like a generator.”

Cordelia’s gaze spoke volumes, skepticism written in her eyes.

“I’ve been teaching those girls since day one,” Zoe explained, “I know what they’re capable of. Girls who couldn’t even conjure a color last lesson had suddenly created a perfect spell.”

Her Supreme shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line.

“It doesn’t make sense. “Zoe said, “How could she be putting out magic without—”

“You said many of the girls who struggled with the spell found success.”

“Yes, but—”

“Perhaps they were able to tap into her magic because she was letting them— opening a door.”

“There’s no spell—”

They were interrupted by a shout from the second floor. Queenie’s voice shaking in their bones. “Cordelia!”

***

Emily stumbled a bit, the hand on her arm tightening around her wrist.

“Hang on there,” Queenie said, “You look like a rake, but I don’t think I’ll be able to carry you the rest of the way.”

“Sorry,” She sighed, the pair stopping for a moment until the dizziness went away.

“That’s like the fifth time you’ve apologized,” Queenie said, “I’m walking you back to your room, not bringing you back to life.”

“I hate being a burden.”

“I’ve spent the last few years in a hotel from hell playing cards with a gambling ghost. You’re a breath of fresh air.”

Emily let out a small, breathy laugh. A smile curled to her lips and Queenie couldn’t help but smile as well, shaking her head and chuckling.

Then, the girl in her arms dropped like a sack of potatoes.

“Oh, shit!” Queenie cursed, tightening her grip as she tried to ease the girl to the floor. “Cordelia!”

Queenie heard the Supreme bound up the stairs before she saw her. Cordelia was soon sprinting down the hall, her former student filling her in as she approached.

“She just dropped like a rag doll!”

Dropping to the girl’s side, Cordelia’s hand went to Emily’s throat. Her pulse was still strong, but magic was thick in the air. The spark she had felt before morphing into a raging inferno.

“Let’s get her to her room.”

“How? We can’t carry her.”

On cue, Zoe appeared with Kyle. Zoe’s eyes were frantic, darting between the other women and her boyfriend. Her hand clutched onto his arm, tugging him along.

As soon as she was settled in her sheets, the three witches began throwing up protection rituals. Whatever caused this damage was magical in nature. Their spells would stabilize Emily until they found out exactly what they were working with.

“What exactly can we do?” Queenie asked once the last incantation was uttered, “She has magic, but—”

“Remember the Seven Wonders?” Zoe asked, looking to Cordelia, “how you… got the sight back. Maybe something is keeping her from her own power.”

“Ok, but what?” Queenie said, “We can’t exactly go around mutilating—”

A whisper came from the bed. They all froze.

“…Spalding.”

Hairs stood up on the back of Cordelia’s neck, dread rippling through her body. Her hands moved on instinct, throwing up more protective wards.

“You stay away from my girls!” She growled; dread replaced by roaring rage.

“She… found… me,” Emily spoke in her sleep, words slurred ever slightly.

Zoe grabbed the hands of Queenie and Cordelia, pushing them into a circle over the girl. Queenie’s hand reached out for Cordelia’s. Their knuckles went white as they gripped onto each other for dear life. The muttered sounds of a banishing chant filling the room.

Their voices grew louder and louder with each repetition until they were shouting as loud as they could.

Spalding was resisting, his tie to the school making his power stronger. Zoe wondered if it were better to bring him back like they had the Axe Man. Kill him twice and kill him good.

A sigh trickled past Emily’s lips. Her peace was momentary, fear settling in as she lurched up with a gasp. Cordelia let out a relieved laugh, sitting on the bed and pulling her into a hug. Emily did not return the gesture, pulling away from the headmistress’s grasp.

“See you met the resident creep,” Queenie noted, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced to Zoe and Cordelia. “Imma’ feel real exposed taking a shower tonight.”

Cordelia pulled away from Emily, placing a hand on her cheek. Her thumb brushed over her skin as if convincing herself the girl was still alive.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“… A room filled with dolls,” Emily said, the memory quickly fading. Her lips curled into a frown and her brows furrowed. “I hate dolls.”

The Supreme could only laugh, pulling away and looking up towards the other two witches.

“She needs rest, but I don’t think she should be alone.”

“I can stay with her,” Zoe offered, “Queenie, you mind teaching my class.”

“I’m not dealing with spoiled rich girls,” Queenie said, “I already have to deal with Madison.”

Zoe gave the girl a look.

“…Fine, but you owe me.”

***

After the incident, weeks passed with a semblance of normality. It was easy for Emily to fall into rhythm with her scheduled classes. At the moment, hers were more focused on the academic side of witchcraft than actual practice.

Latin, rituals, wards, and anything else than could be found in the worn pages of the ancient copies were her daily routine. More often than not, she taught herself in the corners of the academy. Emily had a habit of worming herself into the tiniest corners no one noticed. Allowing her to be immersed in the ancient texts.

Zoe had taken to sleeping in her room as a precaution. Emily could not recall the incident with Spalding, a dream that left her as soon as she awoke. They were quick to fill her in on the creep.

Wards were placed in her room, but she still felt unsettled at the thought of a dead man creeping around in her head. Especially a man so obsessed with dolls.

Either way, it was enough to convince her that she indeed was a witch, strange and unpredictable as her talent may be.

Still, she spent most of her hours away from other students. Mallory, Coco, and herself would speak during meals. Outside of that, she only interacted with those of the “inner sanctum” — the original trio of witches.

Emily sat in the greenhouse; books spread carefully around her as she wrote in her grimoire. She had always been content in her own company. Books, to her, were good if not better conversation partners than human beings.

“I thought you were going to join the other girls on a walk.”

When she wasn’t reading, she was tending to the plants — germinating seeds and tending to their individual needs. Cordelia had taught her how to assess PH. Since then, the brunette had been diligent in her role. The greenhouse had never been more alive.

Emily looked up from her books to the doorway, the light from outside surrounding Cordelia like a halo.

She sighed, making an excuse up on the fly. Her hands tugging at her short locks of hair.

“My leg hurts,” she said, looking back to her books, “and I didn’t want to risk getting my hair burned off again.”

Cordelia smiled and chuckled. The youngest fire-starters were always the ones that did the most damage. A curse of tantrums.

Most of her girls were older, but uncontrolled magic made desperate parents search for guidance. Robichaux giving them a sense of hope despite the pain of separation.

The Supreme wandered to the other side of the table. Trying to read upside down, she found that the girl was translating spells from Latin.

“You’re only going to get as much as you put in.” She reminded.

“What more can I do? I’ve read every book I could and memorized all the words and gone to lessons and nothing happens.”

“Just because you cannot change the color of a rose or raise them from the brink of death doesn’t mean you’re not as witch as the rest of us.”

Emily scoffed, focus returning to her books. “I talked to a creepy old man in my sleep and didn’t remember any of it. I’m a fucking… generator of magic, but not a practitioner.”

Cordelia sighed and took a seat across from her, gently closing the books so that the young woman would have to look at her.

“You are a catalyst,” the blonde said, reaching to put her hand over Emily’s, “that is a power in and of itself.”

By now, the Supreme was used to Emily enough to not take offense when her hands slipped away from her touch. She watched as the brunette clenched her fists before settling them in her lap. Her hazel eyes tore away from Cordelia’s gaze and settled on a random plant somewhere behind the woman.

“In my dreams, I have so much power,” she explained. Her gaze wandered down to her hands, broken and useless things. “I can conjure flames, summon weapons to my hands, raise flowers to life, fly, and I…”

She sighed, clenching her hands into fists once more. “… I wake up and I am powerless.”

Cordelia’s head cocked as she listened to her. Emily didn’t often speak of her dreams, a secret she wished to keep close to her chest. It made Cordelia wonder about the source of her power… the specific talent which sang louder than the rest. She’d have to speak to Myrtle, but for now—

“I didn’t come to lecture or admonish,” The Supreme reassured, “Every path taken in this school is unique and I know you are strong enough to make your own way through the thorns.”

“Then why are you here?”

Hearing her words, Emily grimaced. “…sorry, that sounded—”

Her headmistress could only smile and shake her head, “You’re honest and to the point. There’s no crime in that.”

Silence consumed them, Emily waiting for the woman to state her business.

“I have a… proposition for you,” Cordelia said.

“Which is?”

“How do you feel about California?”

***

Michael looked this way and that as he stepped out of the maze which was the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men. Being recognized as alpha gave him a great deal more freedom than he had before, his professors more lenient towards his breaking of certain rules. The nature of his origins, however, was a secret he needed to keep close to his chest.

A smile pulled at his lips as he reached the cusp of the nearby hill. Mead was beaming at him, hands raised in the air as she jumped to get his attention. “Oh, my dear boy!”

Like a child, he rushed towards her, hands outstretched to hug her. No, he wouldn’t risk the warlocks knowing of the only woman who had ever mattered to him.

“Look at you!” Mead exclaimed, holding him at arm's length with a frown, “You’re skin and bones— you’re wasting away. Don’t these people feed you?”

Michael’s grip tightened around her arms, his voice anxious and insistent. “I’m fine. Just tell me you took care of the problem.”

“The problem is now a stack of overcooked country barbecue. They can bury him in a shoebox… if they can find him.”

Relief rolled off Michael in waves, shoulders finally losing a bit of tension which had plagued him for weeks. He was so close… so close to fulfilling his destiny.

“Good,” he sighed, nodding his head, “And what about—”

Mead smiled, “Already at the witch school. Are you sure your father—”

“The vision was clear,” Michael assured, straightening his robe. “These people are the only ones who can pose a threat to me. Once I become supreme, I can destroy them from within…”

He placed his hands on Mead’s shoulders, smiling. “… eliminate their whole fucking coven. Then the road will be clear for me to do what I was born to do.”

“So, stop worrying,” Mead said. The poor boy had dark circles under his eyes and was so tense he was practically buzzing. “Look how easy it was for you to win their trust, to get into their school. They may be wizards, but they’re not exactly wizzes. Everything is going beautifully.”

Michael sighed, pulling his eyes away from her and instead choosing to stare at the dirt at his feet. “I still have to pass the Seven Wonders.”

“You will own the Seven Wonders… and then all their covens and then the world.”

A smile flickered to Michael’s lips. He pulled the woman into a hug, allowing himself to relish this moment of peace.

“What would I do without you?”

“Well, that’s something you’re never gonna’ have to worry about.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon x oc #michael langdon x reader

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