#(apparently you were supposed to be psychic and just read the intention between the lines)

[mimicteruyo]

Reading through a WIP draft: "hmm, the romance aspect of this fic is so secondary that the main scene where it plays out actually feels pretty jarring. Which makes sense since this is supposed to be gen and the original concept required the ship to NOT be included, but maybe I should cut it out to make it—"

*furiously makes notes to add more context and weight to the shippiness as well as another romantic scene*

[love-takes-work]

Notes on SU Commentary Tracks

I watched the commentary tracks on the Complete Steven Universe DVD Set and I took some nerd notes.

The episodes with commentary tracks are “Reunited,” “Change Your Mind,” and “The Future.”

I’ll bold stuff that was maybe bigger news or more surprising for easier reading. And yes, some of this was already known from podcasts, other Q&As, or interviews, but I listed it if they said it again here.

Read on after the jump to read these and other highlights:

Steven’s original wedding speech

Older ideas on dialogue for Lapis when she came back to the beach

Scrapped concepts for the scene that ultimately included Steven communicating with the others in a mindscape

Discussions of earlier concepts for White Diamond having a power to “freeze” Gems into statues to make them perfect and having a gallery of them on Homeworld

Pink Pearl’s original fate

The translation of the writing on Obsidian’s sword

The origin of Pink Steven’s design

What Rebecca did to pitch the “SHE’S GONE” scene

Earlier plans to include Shep in “Change Your Mind”

An unused concept of how Steven feels about Biggs

The inspiration for the Heaven and Earth Beetles’ healed design

How Volleyball/Pink Pearl was almost a mini-villain

Discussion of how they did not get to share the origin of the Diamonds

Jasper’s scrapped participation in the movie

“Reunited” - 

Commentary with Rebecca Sugar, Ben Levin, Matt Burnett, Hilary Florido, Joe Johnston, Ian Jones-Quartey, and Kat Morris.

In 2015, an episode idea called “If You Love Yourself So Much” was discussed but rejected. It included some early ideas that ended up getting incorporated into “Reunited,” most notably Garnet marrying herself and putting rings on both hands.

The idea of the Cluster arm wrestling was planned for a long time. A scrapped idea of Steven banging his fist on a vending machine to get some Chaaaaps was supposed to visually parallel some of that scene, but it was axed.

When they got pushback on the wedding idea, they kept adding more and more “high entertainment value” items like a big musical number so the episode would be absolutely unmissable and appealing to everyone.

The song at the beginning of the episode was meant to check in with the entire cast and sort of remind you they exist and what their state of mind is going into the wedding.

Ian made a comment joking about “All 15 people in Beach City” being in the audience.

Just about everyone on the Crew touched this episode, despite that there are four main storyboarders credited for “Reunited.”

In 2016 Ian Jones-Quartey proposed marriage to Rebecca Sugar. They felt like the characters based on them (Sapphire and Ruby) HAD to get married in the show now because otherwise it wouldn’t be honest. But then their characters got married before they did.

They really love the idea of having characters get married who have known each other for a really long time, versus the fairy tale trope of movies ending with weddings between people who have met very recently.

Steven’s speech as officiator at the wedding used to be longer in its first draft--it was described as being weird and full of jokes, and there would have been a scene with Pearl getting weepy and pulling tissues out of her pearl.

Ian mentions loving a joke Jeff came up with having Greg play one chord to make Steven fall asleep--it’s sort of a “dream” chord you hear in cartoons a lot before a dream sequence.

The Crew discussed what it might be like if someone had never seen the show before and started with this episode.

Ian really wanted Steven’s psychic powers to figure into the episode.

Blue using a sadness wave to attack the Gems was a very old idea they’d planned for a long time. So was Lapis’s arrival.

There was a discussion of having Lisa Hannigan performing her lines as Blue VERY early in the morning.

Ian was happy the sword got broken because it was so momentous but it was just a sword. And later appeared on a shelf in the house as an artifact.

Miki had drawn a torn dress for Garnet at one point so she could be shown fighting and moving around more accurately, and this led to a long discussion of whether Gem clothing can even actually get torn the way human clothes can. They concluded that no, it shouldn’t be torn, so they backed up and gave Garnet an open-front dress from the beginning so the fighting version would make more sense.

Lapis originally might have had a longer speech upon arriving back on the beach. They eventually decided to just have her say “Hey.”

The barn falling on Blue Diamond was an intentional Wizard of Oz reference.

They point out that Steven even once said “drop the barn on the beach” (in a previous episode, “Can’t Go Back,” which was also a Miki episode).

Destroying the house was a big deal, and they always thought they’d end up doing it but backed away from it until “Reunited.” They almost even did it back in “Coach Steven”! But it just ended up with a little damage to the porch.

The Crew thinks Miki is really good at drawing ensemble shots.

Rebecca was always overwhelmed whenever she got to have Patti LuPone record for Yellow.

Originally the giant figures of everyone’s statue bodies in the mindscape were too dark and had to be revamped so they could be seen.

An earlier idea of Steven’s “psychic-ghost-situation” had him as a ghost actually trying to interact with the other characters during fighting action, but it was pulled back to this mindscape so there wouldn’t be as much confusing action to keep track of and more focus on what Steven was doing to encourage his teammates and contact the Diamonds.

Hilary was glad not to have to block out a fight.

Ian mentions loving having Bismuth back in the group.

They originally wanted the “Diamonds sensing Pink’s energy” plot to happen when Steven was in the palace somehow, but everything got moved to this scene--which the Crew all agrees turned out incredible, like how cool it was to have Steven essentially reminding each character why they fight and summing up their whole arc in a sentence.

“Change Your Mind”

Commentary with Rebecca Sugar, Ben Levin, Matt Burnett, Hilary Florido, Joe Johnston, Ian Jones-Quartey, and Kat Morris.

They like to refer to this episode as “The movie before the movie.”

They loved incorporating “princess tropes” into Steven’s time on Homeworld, which is why there were so many references to “mice” (well, Pebbles) making clothes, being locked in a tower, being reminded of his manners, loving animals and freeing imprisoned pets, etc. 

Deedee did the voice of the rainbow worm pet. She apparently didn’t find it memorable and was surprised when she was reminded she did the voice.

Rebecca was super excited for the confrontation with Blue.

There was some discussion of how Steven would have died of starvation if he didn’t have someone practical like Connie to remember to bring food.

They love working with the huge scale the Diamonds present.

The Crew always wanted to put someone in Blue’s hair loop. Originally they wanted Blue to tuck Greg in there when she kidnapped him, but they didn’t end up being able to do any hair-loop-carrying until this episode.

The Crew bantered back and forth about what the heck those Pebbles’ names were and how hard it was to track them.

They agreed that Paul draws the best Yellow Diamond, which makes sense since he also drew the first episode with Yellow (and her stink face). 

The scene where Yellow asks Blue to stop using her powers on her and then realizing she’s crying on her own was one of Rebecca’s favorite scenes to get to finally.

Steven Sugar thought Gems would spend a lot of time in their own chambers/rooms just not really doing much of anything unless they had to fulfill their purpose.

Some of the Homeworld ideas were based on a Soviet artist’s concepts, Boris Artzybasheff, and also many ideas were inspired by Busby Berkeley regarding how people were objects and furniture.

The mech was an old idea. Once they had the hand ship from “Jailbreak,” they knew there had to be bodies somewhere.

They focused a lot about what could be the coolest and funniest way for something to happen. The concept of the yellow and blue spaceship arms appearing out of the sky to smack the White Diamond mech around was one of those.

Rebecca really wanted things to look more and more cartoony and bizarre as you get deeper into Homeworld.

They spent a very long time trying to decide on characters’ new outfits.

The trash can lid is said to be a reference to “a flying bear cartoon” and they dance around speaking a direct reference because they’re not sure they’re allowed to say its name.

In discussing the powers of the Diamonds, there were debates on what White’s power would be; with Yellow being physicality-based and Blue being emotion-based, they thought White as identity-based made the most sense.

Different ways to express this were played with before settling on the idea that she thinks she’s perfect and others’ colors make them less like her and less perfect. But then she becomes a hostage to her own beliefs about herself because if she does anything that reflects on everyone else, so it’s best to do nothing.

They had some cool earlier ideas of White’s powers making statues out of other Gems and having a gallery full of frozen Gems, frozen by White to make them perfect.

They also weren’t sure what fate befell the original Pink Pearl and discussed whether she might have been destroyed. 

Rebecca discussed how creepy it was to have White Pearl speaking in Christine’s voice and not Deedee’s--that we should find it fundamentally disturbing at this point.

Tom Herpich came up with the crack on White Pearl’s face.

In real life, pink diamonds aren’t understood as well as yellows and blues. It’s more known what makes a diamond yellow or blue, and some of those facts Rebecca researched were originally woven into the speech White gave about their “impurities.” But it turned out to be too dry and most of it got cut.

Rebecca loves having Lapis with pants and sandals for easier cosplay.

Ian had to draw the scene where Steven is falling and fusing with inert characters--he wasn’t able to properly explain it to Rebecca so she had him draw it.

They really wanted Rainbow Quartz 2.0 to have a scarf, but they couldn’t figure out how to get that into Pearl’s design. They miss the scarf.

It was really important to have these Fusions display call-forwards of the Gems’ new outfits which we hadn’t yet seen.

Rebecca points out that Sunstone’s design breaks a design rule and she feels like Sunstone should have Garnet’s pant leg colors on their legs, but at the same time she understands the rule of cool and likes it like this.

It’s discussed how none of Steven’s fusion weapons are exclusively offensive weapons either.

Rebecca still really wants a suction cup Sunstone toy.

Sunstone’s ability to transcend reality and break the fourth wall was a joke that exploded in the discussion room among the Crew. As soon as the idea was pitched everyone kept coming up with ideas. Sardonyx’s fourth-wall-breaking is more snarky, but Sunstone’s is helpful.

Rebecca was disappointed that the rule about Steven’s clothes wasn’t always followed with having his clothes appear on Obsidian’s hand, but she was delighted that you could see them in one scene.

They spent a lot of discussion time on making sure Steven-Obsidian was different somehow from Rose-Obsidian. The hair is different.

Old versions of Obsidian were drawn with wrapped-together Twizzlers legs, which sort of is reflected in the present design.

The sword had been planned forever--and it first appeared in “Bubble Buddies.”

Miki worked on the Ninja Turtles show so Rebecca was really excited to see her depictions of Bismuth and Sunstone.

An early plan to have Obsidian draw the sword from their mouth was complicated because fusion weapons should be combinations, so they finally reached the solution of having them combine to make the hilt, then get the blade out of Obsidian’s mouth.

The blade of the sword is thought to say “We’ll always save the day,” but you’d have to ask Steven Sugar.

Another really old idea was climbing into the White Diamond mech eye.

Rebecca was disappointed that some of the merch made of White Diamond did not feature her cape sparkles.

There were many debates early on about where Rose might “actually” be. There were tons of references to this fundamental question throughout the show--introducing Lapis as a Gem trapped in an object, having Pearl ponder pulling Steven’s Gem out as a baby, straight-up wondering what would happen to him in “Bubbled” when Eyeball was trying to take his Gem, etc. They all decided Rose was definitely gone but that the idea of her possibly being inside him should be on his mind a lot, leading to disturbing images like dreaming about coughing up her hair.

Yellow Diamond and Blue Diamond both challenged Steven about things he was very confident about, but White’s question of his identity got to him because he in fact is not confident about that.

The black and white eeriness of the fuzzy background and the other characters having their colors washed out helped make the scene in White Diamond’s head so disturbing and creepy.

The split screen showing Steven’s two perspectives was exciting to Rebecca, and was a pretty old idea. And she points out it sort of “breaks the show.”

The Gem Steven, Pink Steven, was represented by a slightly modified version of his model sheet. Everyone laughed when they saw what was getting used.

They decided that an earlier idea of Pink Steven looking angry should be replaced by an emotionless version of him. All the emotion should be with Organic Steven.

In the pitch meeting for this episode, Rebecca herself screamed “SHE’S GONE!!” and shocked the hell out of everyone. She pointed out how no one expected this of her because she’s pretty quiet, but she just wanted to shock everyone the way Steven would in the show.

They point out this is the first appearance of the geometric shield that got so much use in Future.

The fact that Steven is Steven is the ultimate reveal of the show. Usually in fantasy shows there’s some other kind of revelation, but Steven just being amazingly human and amazingly Gem and amazingly himself is wonderful here.

They like having the pilot reference with “What’s your excuse?”

If Rose had somehow still been alive in him, all of this would have been cheapened.

Ian loves that you can faintly hear Sadie’s concert from way out in space as the camera approaches Earth.

They got a lot more use out of the Beach-A-Palooza stage than they thought they would when it had to be designed for “Steven and the Stevens.” There was a joke about how at one of the conventions a real Beach-A-Palooza stage was constructed and they had a thought about how oh good, it’s getting reused.

Sadie having green hair in the finale was a late change but they liked showing her progression. 

They had originally kicked around the idea of Sadie already having her new partner Shep at this point, but decided to develop that in Future instead.

They compare White Diamond’s stepping gingerly into the fountain to skeptically getting into a public pool.

Some silliness they didn’t get to use was that Biggs would be “beloved by everyone” except Steven. They never got to cover it, but originally Steven was just going to not really understand why everyone loves her so much and doesn’t personally much care for her.

The Heaven and Earth Beetles are based on the Mothra Ladies.

The healed Gems’ horns are supposed to be side effects of the corruption that they continue to bear in the present.

Larimar and Orange Spodumene ended up different in the ending scene than they became in Future. Many of the designs were retroactively pulled into this scene after being designed for the movie.

Rebecca wrote “Change Your Mind” as a personal song to express her feelings surrounding her fight for the wedding.

“The Future”

Commentary with Rebecca Sugar, Kat Morris, Alonso Ramirez Ramos, Hilary Florido, Joe Johnston, and Ian Jones-Quartey.

The animatic for this episode ran SO long--they’re supposed to be just over 11 minutes but this one was 17 minutes.

Steven’s calisthenics routine, a callback to “Future Vision,” was on the chopping block to make the episode shorter but Rebecca wouldn’t allow it to be cut because she wanted to show that Steven’s been taking care of himself.

They were very excited to get a chance to cover some of the things in Future that they couldn’t squeeze into the original show, like the unbubbled Rose Quartzes, Volleyball, etc.

The new writers on the show also helped bring forward the idea of Steven finally making some of his OWN mistakes to fix.

This also helped construct the idea of Steven essentially being the “final boss” of his own battle.

Usually stories that involve someone being in a fight and winning don’t explore the effect just being in a fight has on a person, regardless of whether you won. 

Rebecca really wanted to play Ocarina of Time after beating it so she could go back to all the places and see how people were doing. She wanted this epilogue series to explore that a little too.

Little Homeschool is sort of a Tiny Toons reference--older cartoons teach younger cartoons how to be cartoons, and this is Gems teaching other Gems how to be Gems on Earth. 

Lamar came up with the silly joke about receiving that art set with all the different media types in it--the one artists are always getting from a well-meaning relative at holiday time.

A scrapped plot idea involved Volleyball/Pink Pearl as a sort of “mini-villain,” with a focus on her activating the un-activated Pearls.

There’s discussion of how victimization turns people into villains sometimes. But since showing that happening with Volleyball wouldn’t have served the interests of Steven’s arc, they couldn’t fit it in.

There was also a “very specific” Gem origin and Diamond origin story that’s quasi-religious in nature--it’s very cool and complicated. But they do not tell us what it is.

Ian and Joe both really wanted to have Jasper living alone in the woods and stacking rocks. They’re glad they got this series to do that with her.

There was originally an idea for a B-plot involving Jasper in the movie. They don’t discuss the specifics.

There were many ideas they didn’t get to work on because they would have started new arcs and Future was not about kicking new plots into gear.

“Mr. Universe” was the last episode they wrote/finished.

Miki really wanted to include a kiss between Connie and Steven to show their relationship was okay. Among the Crew everyone knew their relationship was basically eternal but Miki wanted to make sure WE knew that.

Steven driving conveyed momentum for Future; in the original show, we always came back to the laundry hand, back to home, but in Future that’s changed and home isn’t what it was. 

They were really excited that a gourd family made it to the crowd scene in Future.

Thanks for reading!

Note: The movie had some commentary tracks too, but the one on this DVD set is the same as the one released on the original standalone movie DVD, so I did not outline it here. Here is my post about the DVD commentary from the movie.

[theflashdriver]

Just Five Minutes (A Silvaze Oneshot)

Heavy was the head that wears the crown, both due to the burden carried by its owner and the lack of sleep that accompanied it. Blaze the cat was known for being a workaholic, friends and colleges alike has claimed such and made efforts to curtail her tendencies. To some extent her overworking was indeed self-imposed, it was in her nature to take on burdens and the work of others, but it wasn’t solely her own fault. As the singular monarch of the Sol kingdom, she worked long hours with little hope of respite.

One o’clock was nearing, it was only fourteen minutes away, yet Blaze had already sat through two meetings totalling almost four hours between them. The day had started at half past seven with some additional reading and preparation, she was supposed to have had a pair of hour and a half long meetings yet both had seen fit to overextend by around fifteen minutes. It wasn’t that these meetings were unimportant per say, the first had been regarding a foreseen bumper crop while the second had concerned utilising more modern defences to protect the Sol emeralds, but both of them going into overtime was taking its toll.

The twenty-one-year-old princess was supposed to have a half hour break between each meeting, supposed to being the operative words. A half hour break cut in half once more, it’d be comical if it wasn’t such a common occurrence. Even if there was no break whatsoever between these discussions, she was supposed to retain a prim and proper attitude whilst her visitors could yawn and slouch without risk of it being taken as an afront. Even doffing her usual guardian’s outfit, her robes and tights, risked being viewed as some sort of afront. As she walked the palace halls, now free from that stuffy meeting room, she knew that she was stewing on this much too intently. If she kept this up, she wouldn’t enjoy this brief hiatus and her patience would wear thin when the next meeting undoubtedly exceeded its allotment.

Groggily, she shouldered her way through a set of old double doors and into the library. The scent of old paper and stagnant air hit her, but it signalled a sort of sanctuary. She moved quickly across the emerald carpeted floor, breezing along the great wall formed by the historic fiction section. The massive room was like a labyrinth lined from floor to ceiling with books, but she knew her path through it better than anyone else. It didn’t take long for her to notice that a few tomes had been lifted, a pair on specific pirates and three more containing hyperbolised accounts of the island’s early history. If she hadn’t known he was here, then that would be a clear indication of his presence.

She coasted along the next wall, passing by historic poetry, before crossing by a section filled with pure historic nonfiction. The old wooden shelves that framed her surroundings were surely soon due their monthly dusting, a job that her partner had taken on with gusto in an effort to make this space nicer for the pair of them. As she snuck past yet another library shelf, she swore she heard him snort. With no more than a parse at the row upon row of encyclopaedias, she rounded the final corner and her eyes fell upon him.

Lounging on their shared couch at the heart of the library was Silver the hedgehog, three days into his return from the other world’s future. Both of them had dramatic burdens on their shoulders, she had a world to run while he was tasked with saving his, but to say that he was enjoying his rest would be an understatement. Books were piled on the coffee table before the psychic, claiming residence beside a filled fruit bowl, and he was currently nose deep in a newer retelling of Jet the Second of Babylon’s exploits. He’d taken on clothes too, adding to snug display. She’d stolen the maroon hoodie he was wearing on a number of occasions and his ability to wear baggy grey tracksuit bottoms as he pleased was making her quite envious.

Sneaking behind him, she placed her chin atop his head and draped her arms across his chest. Though she felt him shift, he quickly seemed to relax as he realised just who was holding him. Her eyes dared to close as she took comfort. He’d arrived in as messy a state as usual, smelling of old sweat and thoroughly filthy. Three days deep into bathing though, he smelt of pines and was unbelievably fluffy.

“You look too comfortable, mind if I join you?” She heard the tone of a princess in her voice and winced, “Sorry I’m late.”

“You sound tired,” She felt his hand reach up and his thumb caressed her cheek, “Did everything go okay?”

“We just ran over time, it was as mundane as ever,” She sighed, pulling herself away and rounding the couch. She shrugged off her purple robe, revealing the white tank top beneath, but knew she wouldn’t be free for long. In an attempt to make up for lost time, she immediately lay across the couch and set her head in his lap.

His book was quickly put aside, and their eyes met for the first time today. Age had certainly treated the hedgehog kindly, granting him a height that she couldn’t match even in heels. His shoulders had broadened, and his voice had deepened but that innocent spark still lingered in his piecing yellow eyes, reminding her of what an innocent he was. Casually, she sank a hand into the small plume of chest fur that had escaped him clothes and watched his smile grow warmer.

What they were to each other now had gone unspoken for months, if not years. The nature of their relationship had only ever been confronted through actions like this for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which were their duties. Still, that made things fun, it meant she could perform actions like this and watch as he struggled to react. Blush had claimed his cheeks and he’d quickly broken from their stare-off. She had won, as was so often the case.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, his gaze having undoubtedly fallen on the fruit bowl.

“Famished,” She replied, yawning up at him.

With a whir of psychic energy, Blaze watched a bunch of grapes drift into view before arriving in his hand. He gently lowered his hand and, without so much as blinking, she bit one from the vine. He’d probably filled the bowl himself before coming, the hedgehog had a serious sweet tooth, but she’d started to wean him off of chocolate and towards fruit as of late. His sugar intake was still ludicrous, but he was on the path to improving at least.

“I’m sorry it’s not a proper lunch, Marine needed more help that I’d thought,” He claimed a grape for himself. They’d intended to meet during her first break but a call from the raccoon had dashed that plan, “Apparently her ship had sank an hour before she called me in, but she didn’t want to admit that.”

“Hush,” She commanded, claiming some more fruit, “If you’re that worried about it then you can make me something in time for the next break. A little sugar boost will more than get me through,” The feline elaborated, “Did you manage to fish it out the ocean?”

“I did, and it’s mostly patched up, but I think it’ll take her another day or so to get it ready. She had a bit of a pre-emptive launch,” He explained.

For a while they simply lived in silence, quiet and calm. Moments like these were still rather new to them, intimate in a way they hadn’t really experienced. The fact that they could just exist like this for a while, sharing food and unwinding, was wonderful. He hadn’t known comfort in this lifetime, just as he hadn’t the prior, but she was here now to make certain that he did. They were together and they were safe; in moments like this, she could thing of nothing else.

Blaze found herself snuggling deeper into his lap, relaxing her shoulders and clasping her hands. Soon the sound of her purring came to fill the air, overwhelming the silence. This was the closest to the traditional view of a princess that her life got. It was all work, none of what the storybooks had told her. She worked constantly and fought to defend her world, she was born into a position of equal proportions servitude and luxury. At least Silver could open her eyes to the latter, even whilst the former hung over them.

She swallowed another mouthful, realising that a thought wriggled its way to the forefront of her mind, “What time is it?” She was ruining what little time they had but she had to know.

Silver glanced over his shoulder toward the library’s ancient grandfather clock. It had been introduced when the castle was first built but, gradually, none of the original remained, “Five minutes to one,” He glumly responded.

“Only five minutes left already,” She mused, “More like three, considering the walk.”

She heard him sigh, “It’s not fair…”

“It’s the path I’m on, there’s no escaping it,” She eased him, biting another grape off the vine, “In a handful of minutes I’ll be back in that room, discussing the construction of a new graveyard and replacing old tombstones.”

“A handful of minutes…” He hummed.

Blaze looked beyond the bushel and found that a quirk had entered his expression. Silver and new ideas were a paring that often mixed strangely. The hedgehog wasn’t unintelligent but his still relative inexperience with social situations and the nature of the modern world had led to some rather embarrassing situations. Innocently embarrassing of course, but certainly still worth avoiding.

Pushing the grapes aside she looked him in the eye, “What are you thinking, Silver?”

“What if that handful of minutes didn’t have to be just a handful?” He thought aloud, allowing his hand to mingle with his chest fur and quickly finding hers, “What if that handful of minutes could be as long as you wanted it to be?”

She flipped her right hand, interlocking her fingers with his, “It’s important work, I need to get back to it. There’s no way of changing the system to make that go away. You know how important my role is.”

“I know it is but,” He squeezed her hand, “You’ve already missed half of your break today, you deserve that much at least, right?”

“You’re so naïve,” Blaze yawned again, “I’ve missed it, so it’s gone. Rushing through meetings, or avoiding them to steal it back, isn’t an option. Let’s just enjoy the time we have.”

“But what if you could have it…” He hummed again, releasing her hand, “What if I could get you it…” Blaze sat up, turning to face him only to find that he’d looked away. Before she could open her mouth again, he’d jumped to his feet, “I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, I can do this.”

“Silver,” As the hedgehog went to stand, Blaze caught his hand. While she had an inkling of what he was going to attempt, she just didn’t know how safe it was, “You don’t have to overdo it, not for me.”

“You’re clearly tired and I want to help you, Blaze,” As he smiled down at her, speaking so honestly, she couldn’t help but feel a butterfly flap in her stomach, “I’ll do whatever it takes, even if it only changes things a little,” She let go of her hand and his smile grew even bigger, “I’ll be right back.”

The hedgehog took off like a shot, vanishing amongst the bookshelves, but Blaze didn’t hear his footfalls for long. There was a flash of cyan light, accompanied by a rumbling like thunder, and then the hedgehog was gone from the library, likely even from the entire castle. The princess glanced to the library’s grandfather clock. Her next meeting was set to start in three minutes. Had he not just run off then she would be preparing, hurrying back in the hopes of brushing up on the itinerary.

Her gaze dropped to the bunch of grapes he’d left but, just as she was about to pluck one, another thundercrack rolled through the library. Blaze looked up only to find that a portal had manifested in front of her, a bright cyan disk that washed the table, couch and her in its psychic glow. Just as quickly as it had manifested, Blaze watched as a hand with a familiar circular symbol reached through and into the library. She rose quickly, grabbing her robe before stepping over the table and toward the gateway. She took one last glance at the clock; she only had two minutes left, but how long did he plan to make those last? Blaze took his hand, closed her eyes and, feeling his tug, stepped into the warbling energy wall.

A change in air pressure immediately greeted her. The feline felt a gentle breeze blow through her fur, yet sunlight was shining warmly upon her. A stumbling step that brought her fully free from the portal lead her to discover the thick grass underfoot, matched by the mixed scent of countless wildflowers. She blinked away the difference as, in an instant, her world had gone from being lit by electrical lights to basking in a sun shining overhead. Around her, and even from far afield, Blaze could hear the hum of insects mixing with all manner of marvellous birdsong.

Her eyes fell upon the hedgehog who’d brought her here. In what had been mere seconds to her had been long enough for him not only to choose this location but his garb entirely. The hedgehog stood before her dressed in a short sleaved, open-buttoned, teal paisley shirt with accents of orange and white throughout the pattern. A set of still comfortable looking black trousers had taken the place of his joggers and he’d donned a set of hiking boots. As nice as his clothes were though, they couldn’t hold her attention like the overexcited grin on his muzzle.

He stepped out the way, revealing both a picnic spread and a far better view of their surroundings. Beyond the woven basket and tartan blanket, Blaze could see tree after tree stocked with ripe peaches, on the verge of dropping, and rolling green hills that spanned out towards the horizon. She soon however found herself becoming lost in the smaller beauties of this band new landscape. Lavender, crocuses, violets, bluebells, buttercups and countless other species of small flower covered the ground but around them were also foxgloves that harboured blundering bumblebees and wild sunflowers on magnificently tall stalks. The sight of a green hummingbird, daring to fly so curiously close out of blissful innocent, pulled her from staring at their surroundings.

There was no one else here, it seemed like no one had ever been here. When the hedgehog has left, she’d known his plan was to travel through time and find them a peaceful spot, but she’d expected to arrive somewhere in the reccent past or the other dimension. This must have taken far more effort than that, it absolutely had to. Not only had he found a place so wonderful but he’d found it on a day that the sky was perfect, errant clouds were drifting through the sky but never lingering too long in front of the sun. The grass wasn’t wet, rainfall must have been days prior, and yet the world around them was so vibrant.

“Silver, where are we?” She asked, her mouth agape.

“Where? We’ve hardly left where you were sitting,” He cheekily answered, wandering back to sit on the far side of the blanket, “We’re now on a simple grass plain on an undiscovered island, you’ll sit on that couch, around about where we are now, in a little under two thousand years.”

The feline walked to the edge of the blanket, “How long did it take you to find this time? How many days did you cycle through?”

“Well, I got us a good while away from the folks first landing on the island and then kept trying this same day every year until it was nice,” He answered casually but his blush betrayed how proud he was of this plan, “I think I went through a couple hundred years before picking this one.”

“And I take it this safe?” She lowered herself to sit, still eying him intently, “There’s no chance of a time paradox?”

“As long as we don’t do anything to disrupt the land, nothing should change. The timeline seems to do what’s easiest, it can stomach a small change like this,” He promised, opening the hamper with a wave of his hand, “Picking the spot was the last thing I did, gathering and cooking everything took way longer.”

Silver began to waggle his fingers in the air, almost like he was pretending to conduct. Blaze watched as shapes began to dance free from the basket. First came a large, sealed, pitcher, plainly filled with raspberry lemonade and still containing a half dozen frozen ice cubes. Next came a large silver serving dish which, upon landing, removed its top to reveal a spread of far more sandwiches than they could ever hope to eat. From tuna and cucumber to cheese and tomato, all manner of fillings had manifested in the blink of an eye. Soon after followed a troop of cupcakes set atop a two-tier stand, each iced a different colour and decorated from sweets ranging from lemon jelly slices to maraschino cherries to give each cake their own theme.

Silver the hedgehog could make wonderful use of a minute, that much was more than clear, but how long had that minute lasted for him?

“Just how long did you spend on this,” She squinted at him, causing the hedgehog to break eye contact.

“N-Not longer than eight hours?” He gulped.

“Silver!” The feline shouted, genuinely shocked. She’d expected a couple of hours, three at most, but eight?

“I can rest up and everything will be fine, we can stay here for as long as you like,” He promised, “As long as you don’t plan to stay for more than two hundred years, then we might bump into your ancestors.”

“I should have you send us back right now, this is far too much of an effort and I didn’t contribute anything,” She was flustered, again slipping into the voice she used to rule, but she was anything but upset with him.

“You just being here is more than enough on its own,” Silver responded, clearly growing flustered himself, “I-It’s not like I did this all totally on my own, I went to the other dimension and Amy let me use her oven. I didn’t want to go back and use mine in case I encountered Marine or messed something up permanently.”

In a lot of ways, Blaze knew she was exceptionally lucky to have Silver in her life, let alone to have a relationship like this with him. For as mundane as the cooking behind his effort was, and as normal as their prior time in the library had been, the hedgehog was anything but regular and so casual in how he showed it. No one else could ever have come remotely close to what she was experiencing right now, no one else had a partner who could stretch a minute into eight hours before whisking them away for as long as they liked. The feline almost felt selfish for keeping him all to herself like this but she knew that, fundamentally, that he did this because he cared. He’d seen how bedraggled she was and wanted to make her happy, to shirk this opportunity would be foolish. That and, well, he’d set this up for her to take advantage of. Blaze could tease him to her heart’s content, and no one was around to catch them in the act.

“We can eat, we can rest, we can explore,” He offered, awkwardly smiling at her again, “We can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, hm,” The feline pawed her way across the blanket and toward the hedgehog, “I think I’d like to retake our prior position.”

With half a yawn and no further warning, she pushed her way to rest her head atop the hedgehog’s lap. She’d always known that he made a good pillow but something about this position, coupled with the warmth of the sun seeping into her fur, was truly blissful. Their cloistered times in the library were wonderful, but there was something entirely heavenly about doing this so publicly yet not having to worry about the prying eyes of others. There was no chance of rumours, no potential for tabloids, just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company. The sight of the blue sky above as they did this too; something about it felt so liberating.

“You said you were famished, right? I managed to get fresh salmon,” As he babbled, she glanced up at him. The hedgehog had used his power to draw one of the triangle-cut sandwiches from the tray, “I guess that’s not much of a feat when you can time travel but-

Before he could undersell himself, the feline reached up and shooed away his glowing aura. The sandwich retrieved, she only spoke two words, “Thank you,” That alone was enough to restoke the fire on his muzzle.

The clink of ice filled her ears as she took the first bite, signalling that he was pouring them drinks through the use of his power. Seared salmon and baby spinach in a delicately creamy sauce, the flavours mingled to perfectly. If every single one of those sandwiches had this level of effort put into them then the long hours he’d mentioned more than made sense. It’d be akin to making four or five separate dishes and then reshaping them to suit sandwiches, atop that even crafting the cupcakes and drink.

As a glass filled to the brim with a faint pink liquid drifted towards Blaze, she looked up to him again, “You really did go too far with all of this. You know I was expecting to arrive in the other dimension or the past, to step into some kind of café or a different library.”

“I may have gotten a little overexcited, Amy did tell me I was going overboard. Even if she then insisted that I go all out…” He admitted as she took a sip. It was frightfully sweet, as one should anticipate a concoction made by the two hedgehogs would be, but surprisingly subtle in its flavouring. The lemon only faintly undercut the primary raspberry taste, “I kind of owe her now. I promised to help her do something similar for her and Sonic…”

“Well, it does seem that you have a knack for this,” She complimented him before taking another sip, “I’m sure she’ll be more than pleased with wherever and whenever you send them.”

“She already has ideas, but I’m scared of granting her free reign in the past,” He cringed, “I need to find a middle ground between an interesting place and somewhere it’d be difficult to change the future,” She watched as a cupcake flew through the air, the hedgehog hadn’t had a sandwich yet but she was too comfortable to scold him, “I was thinking about letting them go on a winter date in the middle of summer… she seemed to think that was a great idea.”

“That does sound rather romantic. Very unique,” Blaze responded, before a likely truth ran through her mind, “Although, she’ll probably want you to surprise him with it. If you do that, she’ll surely be ready for the cold while he won’t be. It’ll be an opportunity to get closer to him, in more ways than one.”

“She wouldn’t let him freeze, right?” He asked, so very innocently.

“No, she certainly wouldn’t,” The pyrokinetic half-joked, “But I think, deep down, he’d enjoy that just as much as her.”

Conversation ebbed and flowed, just as the tide or changes in the clouds. One moment they would be discussing the food but the next they would be simply holding each other and enjoying their serene surroundings, only to later end up laughing about their friends’ potential antics. They were never quiet for too long, but conversation never felt forced or as though it was some sort of requirement, it was allowed to come and go as it pleased. Silver’s pointing out of a cloud shaped like Cream’s head led to a long span of time where they stared to the sky, occasionally pointing out the strange forms they observed. It was all so regular, so fundamentally plain, and it brought her nigh unending peace. Though she yawned throughout their meal, Blaze never found herself falling asleep.

His arms had found their way to hold her, clasping just above her bellybutton. This had been intended to relax her, but the princess couldn’t help but take in how peaceful her partner looked. He’d been so overexcited, but he’d equally worked so hard. It wasn’t surprising to see him so tired. After another long bout of silence, the hedgehog began to shift.

“Well, the food’s done,” He hummed, beginning to return the crockery to the hamper. In truth, they hadn’t managed to entirely finish all the sandwiches but she’d long since expressed her fullness, “We should probably head back, right?”

It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say, but she fundamentally understood it. He was trying to be mature, trying to match the seriousness she so often displayed, but Blaze had been spurred on by their surroundings. If they truly were outside of time, able to return to it at any moment, then what was the rush? Why would she ever waste a day as perfect as this. Just this once, perhaps only this once ever, Blaze the cat, the guardian of the Sol emeralds and princess of the Sol kingdom, decided to be greedy.

“I don’t think two hundred years have passed yet,” The pyrokinetic hummed, sitting up stretching.

“Eh?” He was clearly caught off guard.

“I thought I got to decide when we went back?” She teased, now fully rising to her feet. Blaze turned to him, “If this is my kingdom then I would like to see it.”

The hedgehog stumbled to his feet, beaming, “R-Really? I didn’t look around too much, just in case you wanted to. I just took a bit of a glance around from above, made sure everything was as it should be.”

She brushed past him, taking the hedgehog’s hand and feeling her tail wrap around his waist, “Shall we stroll then? Take in this island, unsullied by others’ footsteps?”

He squeezed her hand, bundling their picnic spread into a neat pile and setting her royal robe atop it, “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

That stroll quickly evolved into a frankly stupid dash through the woods. Hand in hand soon turned to arm in arm as they leapt through the thick bracken of the underbrush. Though the hedgehog apparently had some knowledge of the layout, the feline soon ended up leading and racing to reach spots she knew would be transformed with time. A great peach tree forest presently stood, proud and strong, where the royal gardens would eventually take root. The feline had known that these trees were native to the island, but not that they were nearly so plentiful. In her time, only a few remained on Southern Island, one at the heart of the aforementioned garden and another near the town centre. Both were said to be centuries old but now Blaze knew that was certainly true.

Beyond those trees were a swamp, now the site of southern island’s main shopping district. The countless croaking of frogs proved to her that this part of her kingdom had always been loud, but seeing it in such a natural state almost made Blaze wish it was still in such a state. Still, that feeling was quickly washed away as Silver went to pick up a small amphibian only to tumble over himself. Though he managed to psychically keep himself from falling, the response from all the frogs was to leap from the brackish liquid and scatter in all directions. The cacophony of croaks was only rivalled by the sound of their slippery forms crashing back into the water and against the ferns of the undergrowth. The sight of him, bashfully hanging there as if he’d been ensnared in some unseen trap, was more than enough to make her laugh. In an instant, the hunter had taken the place of his supposed prey. What he’d intended to do with a frog if he’d caught it, let alone why he’d tried to catch one with his hands, Blaze had no idea, but it’d only added to the enjoyable mundanity of the day.

No reason, beyond the virtue of freedom she felt welling in her chest, led Blaze to break from staring at him and, still grinning from ear to ear, take off running. The hedgehog gave pursuit, for once not so oblivious as to think this was more than a mere game. Blaze jumped over roots and weaved through trees, running just out of arm’s reach ahead of the psychic. Her heart pounded as though this was some harsh battle, some life-or-death scenario, but she knew it’d only been stoked by the childish part of infatuation. She couldn’t do this in her time, not without feeling the eyes of her people scrutinising her every movement. Even when she was in the other dimension, the presence of so many people made her feel as though her every movement was being analysed. This was freedom, a form of release from her inhibitions that she’d never experience otherwise. It was as though they were in that destroyed future again, still children who were oblivious to how the world was supposed to be, but free from the pressures that world had forced upon them.

She ran and ran and ran until the trees were no more, until the grass vanished from under her and stone took its place. Blaze found herself at the edge of a bluff, overlooking the beach and the sea just beyond it. The feline knew this rockface well, she and he had enjoyed many picnics atop it. Though it was open and exposed now, it would with time become one of the most secluded and private places on the entire island. Panting, she drew the back of her hand across her brow and threw a glance back to him. Cyan light was glowing from the trees, he was in pursuit but had perhaps lost her.

“Silver! This way!” She called out before quickly turning her attention back to the view.

To Blaze, the value of the sea had been lost to her life spent on an island nation. She’d come to take the waters for granted, it was all she’d known for much too long, her relationship with the ocean had been a rather dull one. But now, seeing a beach devoid of people and waters more pristine than ever before, the beauty of the view took her by force. An untouched driftwood barrier formed a long yet broken line along the shore, protecting and simultaneously buffering a wide collection of rocks and shells of all different sizes and shapes.

She heard him land at her side; the key reason that she could stand heights like this. Across both lives, he’d helped her overcome that fear of falling. That alone was a miracle, she couldn’t believe she’d overlooked his potential for quite so long. What had once been a power she was equal parts captivated by and envious of had quickly become a rather romantic tool, a key part of unspoken his arsenal. Though this was the first occasion he’d taken them out of time for such a casual reason, he’d so often and so casually snuck her gifts with his power and carried her for miles above the ground. With the wave of his hand he could sweep her off her feet, not that he would without checking in first.

“It’s beautiful. This spot reminds me of when I first arrived in this world, everything looked so incredible. Undamaged, untouched,” The hedgehog thought aloud, “Do you want to head down there?”

Her tail had already snuck its way around his side again, but she knew that wasn’t enough of a hint for him. She had control, the almighty time traveling psychic was practically wrapped around her finger. It was probably due to their lonely situation but, now that they were away from the forest, it was as though the pair were more isolated than ever. She couldn’t help but feel just a little more confident than usual.

Yawning, mimicking the kind of movements she’d only ever seen in movies and read of in books, the feline stretched her arm around his far shoulder, “I suppose I might.”

Beet red colouration rushed to colour his cheeks as she stepped closer and allowed her right hand to sink into his chest fur, “I-I’ll take you wherever you want to go…”

She raised her leg and he quickly caught on, using his psychic pull to bring her into a bridal carry. This position had taken on different meanings across their lives. While once the feeling of his arm beneath her knee was a sign that they were retreating, it now signified a journey toward something. Be it the peak of a mountain or deep into a valley or simply further in their relationship, this position was a sign of movement. Gently, casually, she let herself lean into his shoulder.

Plainly trying to ignore his blush, a sheen of cyan overtook the hedgehog’s body as gravity abandoned them. With a single step they were floating above the abyss, but he didn’t stop there. As if walking on any normal road, the hedgehog paced further and further forward. With each step they would descend as far down as they did forward. Despite their relatively slow pace, Blaze lost track of time as she stared up at him.

There was something about moments like this, when that psychic glow coated him and his quills hardened in response. It contrasted so heavily with the childhood view she’d had of him, of an adorable ball of white fluff who was far too serious for his own good. Places like this brought out the best in him, let him be more casual and match his inherently soft aesthetic. He could be harsh and strong when he had to be, but she knew this was his closer to his natural state.

As his feet met the ground his eyes crashed into hers. She opted not to step out of his grasp, “S-So, um, we’re here.”

“I’d noticed,” She hummed, scanning their surroundings. He’d landed them on the inner edge of the driftwood barrier, where shells had gathered for years on this untouched land, “Shall we sit?”

“If you want,” The hedgehog struggled to respond, lowering the pair of them to the ground. Naturally, she maintained her position in his lap and atop him.

So very casually, or at least as casually as she could manage, the pyrokinetic cast a glance to her surroundings. The crashing of waves was somehow clearer than it typically was in her time, perhaps due in part to the lack of individuals intruding upon the ocean’s path. The sand was especially smooth, perhaps a result of the ocean’s efforts going entirely unhindered. She blindly stretched behind her, feeling her way through what few shells were in reach. They were cockles, as was supposed to be the case on the island. She had a meeting regarding their harvesting later today or, rather, in almost two thousand years.

She caught sight of his staring out of the corner of her eye. He was looking out to sea, but the remnants of his blush still lingered on his cheeks. Her only regret in all this was that she hadn’t seen his reaction as he first laid eyes upon this untouched world. The hedgehog had grown such an affinity for nature, a want to both experience and protect. It’d become an additional aspect of his role defending that other world, making sure that nature continued to thrive. From gardening to birdwatching to hiking, he’d fully embraced what he so often had to go weeks without.

He would leave again soon to perform that duty, she had to take advantage of what they had both here and now.

“You know, this has all been quite the flagrant misuse of your powers,” She tutted, shifting her weight to push him backwards as she broke the silence, “Very irresponsible.”

It was hardly the most scathing of her taunts but, perhaps due to the physical act that had coincided with it, her words it clearly snatched the hedgehog’s attention. His eyes flickered up to her, wide with surprise. The term your highness, or any of her royal titles for that matter, didn’t much appeal to the feline, but turning her learned regal traits on the hedgehog was an endless source of fun. She watched as surprise was gradually overcome by what little defiance he could muster; she already knew what he was going to say.

“W-Well,” He stuttered, trapped beneath her, “I thought it was for the best? It’s not like I only use my powers to save the world, I used them to pass you grapes before we left.”

“Ah yes, how long ago was that? More than ten minutes must have past by now,” The feline felt a smirk grow on her face as the hedgehog squirmed, “You’ve made me late.”

“We’ll be back on time, I promise,” He managed to reply, struggling to meet her gaze, “I-I’ll drop you right into the meeting room if you want, we can even arrive early. Your past self will be in the library for ten minutes before it starts, you can spend all that time getting ready for the next meeting.”

“How naïve, making such decisions for a princess,” She sat up straight, shuffling off of him a little.

The hedgehog managed to rise just a little, though his blush hadn’t cleared in the slightest, “Y-You’re happy to be here though, right? You’re happy to have this break?”

“Am I?” Blaze turned away from him and smirked toward the sea, “Whyever would you think that?”

“Y-You’ve been smiling,” He stammered, she could imagine the worry on his face without even glancing his way.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” She lied, still looking out to sea. Far away, she could see where the waves dipped beneath the horizon. They really were alone out here. Playing with him like this in such a public space was truly liberating, “Though I supposed I have enjoyed this, somewhat.”

“I’m glad,” Like a switch had been flipped, he was beaming again, “You looked so tired back in the library. I know I can’t do much to help with your work but, if you ever need something like this again, you only need to say.”

“We can’t do this every time, Silver. There will be occasions when I’ll want to, but I know we shouldn’t,” His smile wavered, she cupped his cheek. He was so genuine, so sweet, so naïve, “Just having you by my side is more than enough,” She allowed that hand to slip to his quills and ruffle them, “Although, that’s not to say I won’t ever take you up on that offer…”

For a long while, surrounded by this serene scene, they simply sat and enjoyed each other’s company. Blaze found herself not sleeping but simply snuggling into the time traveller, burying her head into the crook of his neck before lowering to reclaim the pillow that was his chest. Eventually though, the feline knew that she was as comfortable as was possible, that all her relaxation had reached its climax. Pushing herself from his frame to loom above him once again.

“We should probably head back,” She snorted, as he fumbled to his feet, “Or, I suppose, head forward in this case.”

“If you’re sure you’re ready,” He double checked, only casting his hands skyward as she nodded.

Psychokinesis whirred and hummed, a great blue pulse left the markings on his hand only to soar above and beyond the cliff-face. While that energy was racing towards their belongings, the hedgehog’s face took on a frankly goofy expression. Despite how casual this situation was, his commonly serious demeanour had leached through to make him look rather foolish. His very colourful and uniquely patterned shirt certainly wasn’t helping matters.

In no less than a minute, Blaze sighted a glowing bundle soaring over the bluff’s lip. Like some kind of soft meteor, the wrapped-up picnic basket crashed towards them, only just stopping before it could hit the hedgehog in the chest. As the pile swept past, she plucked her robe from the top and shouldered it.

“You’re sure that you’ll be able to get us back to the right time, aren’t you?” The princess asked, dusting the sand from her tights.

“I promise,” He smiled, floating the bundle behind them before stretching his hands forward. From the quills at the back of his head, a well-cut green stone flew to hover in front of them. A chaos emerald, his preferred source of energy.

As though he was washing a window with sponges strapped to both of his palms, the hedgehog began to wave his hands in repeated circles. More energy began to pool in front of him like a warbling plate, it quickly grew from the size of a droplet to become far larger than either of them. The outer edge of the disk gradually ceased in their shifting and the hedgehog’s hands fell to his sides. The effort did seem to take it out of him a little but, with them now both bathing in the light of transportation, he wouldn’t have to work again.

“After you,” He gestured ahead, plucking the emerald from the air.

Blaze, entirely trusting her partner, stepped forward. Shifting across time and space was, by now, practically second nature to her. Once upon a time she’d struggled with the instantaneous shift from one place to another, her first arrival in the other dimension had left her dizzy and exhausted. Now she knew some best practices; to close her eyes, hold her breath and keep her balance.

She stepped off of sand and straight onto hardwood.

The strong scent of coffee struck Blaze first, the only true amenity in the room was a small coffeepot set on a small side table. That much was enough to let Blaze know that they’d arrived. No wind rustled through her fur and the room was lit by a series of electric lights that had been plugged into the celling when she was five. They were at the heart of the palace, there were no windows for the sun to breach. Just a boring wooden table with reflective varnish. He walked in behind her, sealing the portal with no more than a wave as he finished arriving.

Compared to the world they’d just known; the silence of the meeting room was deafening. She already missed the breaking of waves and the ticking of the room’s clock wasn’t a worthy replacement. They’d manifested at the head of the table, her position, and were faced with six empty seats. A glance to the wall proved that Silver had stuck to his word, it was exactly ten minutes till one o’clock. On the long stretching desk, directly in front of her seat, was a bulky binder filled with notes and opened to the hour’s itinerary. Ah yes, she’d gone from running through forests, trudging through swamps and having a heart to heart on the beach to discussing where to bury the dead in no more than a moment.

How long had they spent away? She’d assumed that it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours but, in truth, time had been rather lost on her. Despite his intent being to create a time for resting, they’d ran and acted in such a wild manned. Instead, he’d energised her in an entirely different way. He’d brought her excitement; he’d given her the strength to carry on and get through today. How could she even begin to repay that?

An idea wriggled its way into Blaze’s head.

Nonchalantly, the feline redonned her robe and neatly fastened it before retaking her seat, pretending to scan her notes, “Well, everything seems to be in order…”

“I told you that I’d get us back on time,” She could hear the joy in his voice.

“You certainly did,” The princess squinted at the page, placing her finger beneath a chosen random word, “But it does look like the timeline has changed, ever so slightly.”

“W-What? It has?” He rushed to her side, leaning over her shoulder to look at the papers, “Blaze, what are you talking about? This is still all about refurbishing gravesto-

The moment he turned from the page to look at her, Blaze’s hand sunk into the quills on the back of his head and pulled him in just a little closer. He surely knew what she was about to do, she’d done it often enough, but that didn’t seem to stop him from becoming flustered. After a moment of staring, taking in his blushing face, Blaze closed her eyes and closed the distance.

Feeling him shudder at the first contact, wanting to return her efforts but being restricted by her hold, brought the princess endless jubilation. Blaze’s heartbeat shot up, as she pulled him in and offered him the slightest of opportunities. He hurriedly took it, pushing to further close the distance as is such a thing was possible. The taste of raspberry lemonade on his lips was just an added bonus. Feeling him grow tense beneath her touch, knowing that, despite his capacity to take her back in time, she had this power over him, was incredible. A might not born of her royal position or pyrokinetic might, but love.

The kiss didn’t last for long, of course. Not only did she have work to return to, but Blaze knew it was best to leave him wanting more. As she pulled back, her eyes reopened and his bashful face filled her vision. Eyes lit like overexcited lighting bolts, cheeks like poppy petals and a thorough look of overexcitement had claimed his face.

“S-So, I take it the timeline hasn’t actually changed then?” The psychic eventually asked.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” She smirked, “You’re the same naïve hedgehog you were when we left.”

“That’s good,” He struggled to reply, “I-I think.”

For a moment longer she simply stared into his eyes and watched him squirm. The princess didn’t especially wear makeup but the idea of leaving a lipstick stain on him had crossed her mind a handful of times. He probably wouldn’t even notice until it was too late. But, alas, similarly too late, they’d been lingering together for much too long. The pair of them had just spent hours together, she’d decided it was time to go, and yet she didn’t want to release him. What foolishness…

“I’ll see you in an hour and a half, perhaps a little longer,” She mused, still holding the back of his head, “If you can make such good use of two minutes, what can you do with so much more?”

“W-Well, um,” He squeaked, “I guess I’ll try to think of something?”

Her fingers uncurled from his quills but the hedgehog, plainly stunned, didn’t move, “I’m sure you will, but, for now, we must part.”

“O-Oh, right, yes, um,” He shot up straight, quickly looking away, “Good luck with, um, t-the graveyard people.”

“You’ll need to get used to this eventually,” She rolled her eyes. Despite the rarity of their kisses, given only when she was certain no one else could see, she’d thought that he’d have grown a little bolder by now. Despite the smallness of her action in comparison to his, the hedgehog was adorably lovestruck.

“I don’t know that I can do that in an hour and a half, even with time travel,” He mumbled, tugging at his chest fur, “And an extra fifteen minutes probably won’t change that.”

He could be so naïve, so blunt and oblivious. Without a second thought, Blaze rose from her seat and took him by the collar. Uttering nothing more than the word “Well, if you can’t manage that,” For the second time in so many minutes, her lips found his. The ticking of the wall clock filled her ears as they parted again, “Just brace yourself for when I finish up.”

[atamascolily]

let’s talk about the Bene Gesserit

When Paul meets Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohamian of the Bene Gesserit, he identifies the order’s purpose right away: “Politics.” The Reverend Mother is surprised, and gives Jessica the side-eye to see if Jessica has spilled secrets, but Jessica denies it. I don’t know whether to believe Jessica or not here because Jessica has told Paul all kinds of things, but I’m going to assume Jessica is telling the truth here, and this is supposed to be yet another sign Paul is super-smart, super-observant, the Chosen One, etc, etc.

But I want to know: what does the rest of the galaxy think the Bene Gesserit do?

Pretty much every female character in Dune who’s not Fremen is Bene Gesserit, or at least has some degree of training from them. All of them are linked to powerful men: Jessica is a ducal concubine and mother of his heir; Margot is wife to Count Fenring (and presumably only allowed to marry him and be a Lady in her own right because the Count is a “eunuch” and can’t bear children); Irulan is a princess and the Emperor’s daughter. Even the Reverend Mother, once the superintendent of the Bene Gesserit school on Wallach IX, is now the Emperor’s Truthsayer. And the narrative goes out of its way to mention that Thufir Hawat specifically purchased Jessica for Duke Leto, and cleared her for the Atreides household.

So, are the Bene Gesserit seen as a religious order? A finishing school for ladies of the ruling class? Are they the futuristic equivalent of medieval nunneries, except with less embroidery and more manners? All of the above?

In reality, the Bene Gesserit are all-female order on a self-directed mission to provide “a thread of continuity in human affairs”. They do this by a secret breeding program, separating humans from “animals” by means of various tests (one of which Paul undergoes in the novel’s opening scene). The Bene Gesserit schools are filled with the (presumably female) offspring of this breeding program, as well as any other genetic lines they’re interested in manipulating. Many, like Jessica, are kept ignorant of their heritage by the higher-ups so they can secretly breed back into the line (ironically, a standard technique in animal breeding!). Apparently, the BG have found out the hard way that outright incest is a hard sell, so they keep the participants in the dark, which is... horrifying. The BG’s stated goal is to create a Kwisatz Haderach, a man who can look into the void that no BG [female] Truthsayer can see, “into both feminine and masculine pasts”.

Leaving aside the irony of an all-female organization seeking to create a man more powerful than they are, I don’t understand why the Kwisatz Haderach has to be male; it seems like a female Kwisatz Haderach who can see into both her male and female ancestral lines ought to be equally possible. Even if you argue that those male ancestral memories are inextricably linked to a Y chromosome or some other vaguely scientific rationale, it’s a) never explained anywhere in the book that I can recall, and b) Paul’s sister Alia will have this ability--and in fact will be haunted by at least one male ancestor to her extreme detriment. Maybe the BG are trying to create a male Kwisatz Haderach because they think men are easier to manipulate and control? Or do they not know what they’re talking about?

The Emperor knows the BG are useful; that’s why he has a Truthsayer and presumably was okay with them training his daughter, but he doesn’t seem to know the BG are manipulating his wife and concubines to make sure he has only daughters, so they can marry said daughters to a match of their choice. The BG orders Jessica to do the same thing, and she defies them because Duke Leto really, really wants a son. Does that mean the BG are always supposed to bear female children to keep the order going, or did Jessica and Irulan’s mother receive special orders on account of their positions? I don’t think this is ever made clear, and it bugs me.

I also don’t understand why the BG don’t... do something (anything!) when Jessica defies them and has Paul instead. Granted, Paul is the duke’s heir, he’s protected from assassins in general, but it seems like the BG might have had some way of influencing/punishing Jessica for her disobedience and they... don’t. At all. And I don’t get it. If Jessica’s act is so courageous--as Irulan later assess that it is in her history--what are the consequences?

The Reverend Mother sarcastically says Jessica defied the orders and had a son because she was arrogant enough to think she could produce the Kwisatz Haderach at last. Jessica says she suspected the possibility, but what made her think that? She doesn’t even know who her parents are! She hasn’t passed the final tests to be a Reverend Mother (and her defiance presumably knocked her off that track because the BG can’t trust her with that level of power), so why would she think HER SON would be the Chosen One? I don’t get it. Is Jessica being sarcastic here, too?

The Reverend Mother says Jessica did it because she loved Leto and didn’t want to disappoint him, which Jessica admits to. The Reverend Mother’s mostly angry because her plan was to wed an Atreides daughter to the Harkonnen heir and maybe put a stop to all the infighting between the two families (or compound it further? or for other reasons that only make sense when you learn who Jessica’s father really is?) Now with Paul as the heir, that’s not possible--because marriage is all about biological progeny, property, and heteronormativity in this book--and the Reverend Mother is annoyed mainly because the BG might lose both bloodlines in all the forthcoming violence.

I guess this begs the question of to what extent a BG agent is their own operative, and to what extent they are controlled/under the influence of the order as a whole? The Reverend Mother seems sympathetic to Jessica, saying, “Each of us must make her own path,” which implies some degree of independent agency. She also sees that Jessica has been teaching Paul the BG Way, and “I’d have done the same thing in your shoes and devil take the Rules”. And she encourages Jessica to train him in the Voice, because she thinks that’s the only way Paul’s going to survive the Harkonnen treachery to come (which she knows about because she’s presumably privy to much of the Emperor’s behind-the-scenes scheming with the Harkonnens).

And then the Reverend Mother walks out “with not another backward glance” and we don’t see her again until the final scene. “The room and its occupants already were shut from her thoughts.” And Jessica is freaked out by the fact the  Reverend Mother is crying as she walks away.

Why is she crying? Does she genuinely love Jessica as her “own daughter” as she claims, and she regrets that Jessica is either going to die or be a fugitive with a price on her head once the Harkonnen trap is sprung? Is she upset about what could have been, and wasn’t? Is she regretful of all the genetic material and possibilities, thousands of years of careful work and preparation obliterated by forces she has no intention of stopping? All of the above??

I don’t know why the Reverend Mother shows up to test Paul’s humanity at the beginning. Is it because she’s curious? Or does she have no choice given Paul’s lineage, and her suspicions/Jessica’s assertions that Paul really might be the Kwisatz Haderach? Did Jessica ask for it, because she knows Paul needs this test in order to move to the next level in his training and she’s not emotionally equipped to administer it? All of the above?

And the Reverend Mother looks straight at Paul, saying outright that she sees the possibility/potential for him to become the Kwisatz Haderach and walks away... why??

Conclusion: The Watsonian explanation is that the BG talk a mean game, but they’re not as smart as they think they are. The Doylist explanation is that Frank Herbert wanted to set up his plot just so and didn’t care if the BG looked stupid in the process.

But this got even weirder when I realized there was an appendix in my edition (which I had never read before) claiming to be an in-universe “Report on Bene Gesserit Motives and Purposes” written for Lady Jessica “immediately after the Arrakis Affair,” which comes to the exact same conclusions.

The report does clarify that the BG expected the child of Jessica and Leto’s daughter and Feyd-Ruatha Harkonnen to have a high probability of being the Kwisatz Haderach. So Jessica’s decision to skip ahead on the program a generation wasn’t such a long-shot after all.

Except: “For reasons she confesses have never been completely clear to her, the concubine Lady Jessica defied her orders and bore a son”. So Jessica herself doesn’t even know why she did it...!! But she must have known some of this, because why else would she train/test Paul the way she did, or admit to the Reverend Mother she thought it was possible in the first place?

The writer goes on to note that BG knew teenage Paul had prescient dreams, the Reverend Mother failed to mention that his humanity test had broken records in her report (not mentioned in the book itself!!);  that the BG knew that spice could amplify psychic powers... and did nothing to stop Jessica and Paul from going there and eating a fuckton of spice; and didn’t make the connection that the rumors of a guerilla prophet leader born of a Bene Gesserit mother and destined to be the savior might have some connection to the two people who had disappeared shortly beforehand (!!!); plus some stuff about their dealings with the Spacers’ Guild and the complications of a higher-order nexus they couldn’t see past, which ought to have alerted them that someone more powerful than they were was messing around with the future.

“In the face of these facts, one is led to the inescapable conclusion that the inefficient Bene Gesserit behavior in this affair was a product of an even higher plan of which they were completely unaware!”

And on that note, the report ends and I just... cannot believe that Herbert deliberately lampshades the BG’s incompetence--and then concludes that “God [aka the author] did it”. Because unless I missed something important and Paul meddles with the past somehow, I don’t know how else to interpret this...

I suppose this report might be written by an unreliable narrator--like every other in-universe document in this book--but then what is even the point if we never get any answers..?

[forestwater87]

Cutting Myself on all this Edge

This post has no reason to exist, except that I keep bothering my friends with literally dozens of messages making fun of this and I need a place to keep it all.

What is “this”? Oh, just some people having some Fucking Strong Opinions about how Harry Potter is the Pied Piper (they use that comparison multiple times. It gets old fast) leading our children into the End Times with its pro-illuminati Satan-worshiping witchcraft lessons. You know, the usual.

And no, this isn’t a battle of Forest vs. the Crazy Christians; I’m like 94% sure I’m not working through any sort of religious trauma, partly because I never went deep into this kind of mentality but mostly because I’m just delighted by The Cutting Edge, a website for a very specific type of Christian (no, not you, Catholics. You’re specifically not invited to the Cutting Edge club because you worship demons) interested in the New World Order, the evils of public schools, and Satan’s favorite color.

No, really.

Satan’s favorite color is green. They don’t . . . really explain why.

This site still exists and is the best thing I’ve ever seen. Hours of fun for the whole family. I mean, look at their logo:

And look at their illustration that goes along with their particular Harry Potter series:

Are you not entertained?!

I cannot stop reading these amazing essays -- which delve surprisingly deep into Potter lore, considering they say that there is no sufficient reason for a Christian to ever read a single page of these books -- and I can’t keep harassing my friends with thousands of notifications, so here we are.

Starting small, let’s read the book review for Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s/Philosopher’s Stone. Or, as they prefer to call it:

This book chronicles Harry's first year at the Hogwart's School of Wizardry and Witchcraft.  Prepare to be shocked for the bold, blatant, and bodacious raw Satanism that underlines this story! Since "proper"Drug Use is essential in opening the centres of vision and achieving higher consciousness, we should not be surprised that First-Year students learn Drug Use, Drug creation, in a way that makes Drug use seem glorious! You will be shocked to see '666 ' in the story line, and symbols of Antichrist receiving a "fatal wound"!

That’s the entire subtitle. That’s just how they roll on

THE CUTTING EDGE

Part 1: The . . . Plot? I Guess?

This story introduces us to Harry Potter, an orphaned boy sent to live with his "horrible" Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their fat, obnoxious son, Dudley. 

I feel very comfortable with the fact that Cutting Edge has chosen to put scare quotes around the word “horrible,” like that’s up for debate. Combined with the very normal and sane opinions expressed elsewhere on the site, this really bodes well for their ideas about parenting and childcare in general.

all through this book, any non-witch folk -- like Vernon and Petunia -- are depicting in disgusting language.  

Typo is theirs, as is the apparent offense they take to the fictional depiction of people who are very much not real. While there hasn’t been any exciting formatting going on yet in this essay, I will replicate it as much as possible, and any changes made will be clearly indicated through square brackets and ellipses.

Non-witch people are known as Muggles , and they are depicting as being "dumber than a box of rocks", of being physically obscene, and of living the most boring, unimaginative lives possible.

I was going to argue that this isn’t true, but I suppose we don’t really meet any cool Muggles in the first book. I guess I have to give them this, but I don’t feel good about it.

Witches, on the other hand, are depicted as being very smart, very "with it", of being physically normal, and of living wonderfully exciting lives

It bears repeating:

a flashback scene to the time 10 years earlier when Harry's Mom and Dad were psychically murdered by evil Lord Voldemort

Okay. Now I’m no Potterologist, and so I’m hoping any true believers will correct me if I misinterpret the holy texts,* but I don’t think Harry’s parents were psychically murdered by anyone. I’m pretty sure they were quite literally, physically made dead. Just because it’s a beam of magic doesn’t mean it’s not physical anymore, does it? Voldy didn’t Professor-X Harry’s parents and they died of three D10 psychic damage or anything; he just fucking killed them with a wizard gun. Am I wrong here?

*By which I obviously mean Harry Potter. It teaches children how to become Satanists; we’re clearly dealing with a book of immense spiritual relevance.

Skipping a little bit of plot summary, which is a combination of, well, summary of the plot, although Cutting Edge is determined to get Hogwarts’ name wrong, and a little bit of baffling End-Times(?) nonsense thrown in for funsies --

Of course, a Christian would be immediately alerted to this turn of events [in which Harry defeats Voldemort and is scarred] because soon a supernaturally powerful global leader will demand everyone on earth take some sort of a mark in exactly this place on the body.

What? 

-- and there’s some weird formatting things going on that I think are supposed to imply something sinister but really just come off as goofy:

They have Harry on a boat headed for nowhere and they had every intention of keeping Harry from ever attending Hogwarts School.  However, Harry receives supernatural assistance.

(It’s not letting me do colors on desktop, which is stupid, but that “supernatural” is supposed to be both bold and red)

There’s a long description about the difference between the Real and Fantasy worlds, which apparently Satanists try to live in both of (and so does Harry, making him also a Satanist. This is actually one of the less-stupid arguments Cutting Edge has for Harry’s Satanism, so just go with it) that’s honestly more boring than funny so I’m skipping it. Then we get to a much more fun section: why Rowling’s descriptions of Muggles are . . . teaching children to hate Jesus?

Part 2: Rowling Hates Muggles

Rowling consistently depicts people who do not practice Witchcraft in most obnoxious terms.  They are depicted as being really, really dumb, boring, and living a life not worth living .  We share these examples, below, with you so you can appreciate the truth of this statement.  Uncle Vernon was also the only Muggle quoted in the book as being really opposed to Witchcraft; therefore, when readers see how stupid, ugly, and boring Vernon is, they get the idea that all people who are opposed to Witchcraft must be as stupid, ugly, and boring as Vernon is.

... Are all people opposed to Witchcraft cowardly bullies?

I mean, you are the one going after a children’s book for daring to entertain children, so if the shoe fits . . .

"Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang ... Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader." [p. 31] How do you know your own child does not think of you in these terms?  After all, you are a non-magical Muggle.

I actually can’t complain, because this is just accurate. I 100% hate my parents and think they’re stupid because they’re not literally witches/wizards. Our relationship has never fully recovered.

"Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on." [p. 47] Remember Adolf Hitler, the most famous Black Magick wizard in modern history? He depicted Jews as Rats in his Propaganda Machinery, convincing the Germans they should extermination the "vermin".

GODWIN’S LAW HAS LANDED! 

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND EVERYTHING OUTSIDE OR IN-BETWEEN, WE HAVE OFFICIALLY COMPARED HARRY POTTER TO HITLER!

We find it highly interesting that, later in the book, when the Evil Lord Voldemort is supposedly killing the unicorn in the Forbidden Forest, the color of the blood of the unicorn is silver! 

Okay, but like . . . why? I mean, it immediately follows a description of the Bloody Baron, who is depicted with silvery blood because he’s, like, a ghost, but I’m not sure what that has to do with unicorns or with Satan. Are unicorns associated with Satan? Is silver associated with Satan?

Is everything Satan? Am I Satan?

There’s a lot of rage at a gentleman named Chuck Colson throughout this section, who apparently made the grave error of telling parents it was okay for their children to read Harry Potter because it doesn’t involve contact with the supernatural. And I’ll admit, that seems like a pretty bad defense of the books, because if you define “supernatural” as ghosts, poltergeists, or whatever the hell Voldemort is, then there is absolutely a metric buttload of supernatural stuff in here.

Arguably, a better defense of why it’s okay for children to read these children’s books is that they are books made for children, but YMMV on that one. Probably depends on whether or not you think children are sitting in the giant metaphorical (or literal? Not sure Cutting Edge gets metaphors) lap of the Antichrist every time they pick up the books.

(A visual reminder.)

Part 3: Basically Part 2, But This Time There Are Colors

The next section is on colors, which are very important to Cutting Edge. As linked back in the very beginning of this post, there is an entire essay devoted to the demonic colors used in the Harry Potter books, but we get just a taste of it here:

Rowling makes use of vivid colors in her story line.  Some of these colors are consistent with the colors preferred by Satan and his followers in the Occult.  Rowling's use of such vivid colors also enables her to paint the Fantasy Reality of Witchcraft as THE most exciting place to live.  Wizard of Oz uses the same technique: when Dorothy is in her real world in Kansas, the color is black and white, but when she steps into her Fantasy Reality, the scene explodes in the most wonderful color.

Interesting interpretation. An alternative view is that Rowling needs to use more descriptors for things within the Wizarding World, because her readers won’t have the same frame of reference to draw from that they do with real-life objects and events in the Muggle World, and one can assume that these lovely descriptions are part of her being a, y’know, good and evocative writer, and the colors are just related to how she pictured the world she was creating.

But I mean, yours is good, too.

Actually, the citations provided by Cutting Edge don’t depict anything especially vivid; it’s not like she’s throwing massive amounts of purple prose at the descriptions of the Satanic green of Harry’s eyes. In fact, the only enhancer used is “emerald” at one point. For the most part, this essayist is just . . . noticing when the word “green” appears in the text and calling it a siren song to entice good Christian children out of the colorless world of reality and goodness and into the technicolor dreamland of magic and mayhem.

Also, please remember that Satan has a favorite color, and it’s green. For all birthdays and Christmases (or wait, whatever the Satanic version of Christmas is! Halloween?), please make sure all gifts are green or green-adjacent.

Even though Harry is nearly as powerful as a Black Magick practitioner, and could easily have decided to go over to that side, he declines to go over to the Dark Arts.  Dumbledore assures Harry that he is not evil as Lord Voldemort. However, as a symbol of the Black Arts he could perform, Rowling makes Harry's eyes green.

This observation -- and I use the term loosely -- implies that every single Slytherin and villain of the Harry Potter series would have green eyes, to demonstrate their capacity for evil. The fact that this is obviously not the case must just be a red herring.

Part . . . 4, I think?: Drugs, Magic, and Magic Drugs

Harry and his friends learn how to makedrugs, and the glory of taking them.

The fact that they don’t actually take any in this book is entirely irrelevant. (”Drugs” should also be red as well as bolded. It’s very serious business.)

The plant, wormwood, contains thujone, an hypnotic drug, banned by the FDA since 1915 [Christian News, "Latest Potter Book Meets Cautionary Response From Christians, July 17, 2000] ; further, wormwood is used to make Absinthe, a hallucinogenic liquor.  Therefore, the drug to which Rowling makes reference is very real, and is so dangerous the FDA has banned it -- to this day, it is banned!

While thujone was illegal at the time of this essay in the United States, it was actually never banned in the UK . . . you know, where these books take place and were written? I don’t think Rowling gives a solitary fuck about our FDA standards. Also, I don’t know if you could just straight-up buy wormwood on whatever the equivalent of Amazon was in 1998 (was it just Amazon?), but you sure can now. Can’t be all that scary.

You can hardly get a better description of drug use, and drug glorification than this!

I wonder why they keep using red to emphasize all these evil things . . . you’d think they’d go with Satan’s favorite color/the sign that Harry is the Antichrist to really jazz up all of the evil.

"The drug message in this book is clear. To reach your goals in life like Harry Potter, you need to know how to make drugs and take drugs in just the right way or else you are a 'dunderhead' and will never succeed." [http://www.fflibraries.org/Book_Reports/HarryPotter ; written by a physician and father who asked to remain anonymous].

The fact that this URL doesn’t lead me to that review is one of the saddest things I’ve faced all month.

The sections on spellcasting are far less interesting, reiterating a pretty simple refrain: all magic is bad, because the books say some magic is good then the books are bad, it’s all teaching children about Satanism. Rinse and repeat.

During final exams, teachers passed out special quills with which to write; these quills had been "bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell".  The reason none of the teachers felt they could trust the honor of the students to not cheat is obvious enough; in Witchcraft, no Absolute Good and Evil exists.  All objective, eternal standards of conduct and morality have been rejected.  Therefore, teachers knew full well that all the students would cheat on their final exams if they thought they could get away with it.  It is a sad commentary that teachers had to place an Anti-Cheating spell on the quills to prevent exams cheating.  Christian parent, is this the "morality" you want your students to learn?

Now, it might just be my obvious Satanist addiction to witchcraft talking, but doesn’t it seem more likely that there’s an anti-cheating spell because sometimes . . . children cheat? And no amount of Good Wholesome Christian Teaching is going to completely eradicate the desire to cheat on a test, because of course it isn’t. 

It’s not because the school has taught the students that cheating is okay and cool and sexy or whatever -- in fact, if you want evidence that there is an absolute moral standard against cheating, it would be that the teachers are actively taking steps to prevent it! If witchcraft really was all about how there’s no such thing as good and evil . . . well, for one thing they wouldn’t teach Defense against the motherfucking Dark Arts, but they also wouldn’t care if their students cheated enough to provide anti-cheating quills, because they wouldn’t consider cheating a bad thing, because they wouldn’t consider anything a bad thing! 

Also, I’m not sure what listing all of the spells in the book and what they do really says about Satanism, except that . . . spells exist, and are used? Which I feel like you should really expect from the book about magic and wizards; if that’s an alarming surprise, then you’ve made a wrong turn somewhere way earlier down the road.

Part whatever: Seriously, Rowling is just ALL ABOUT Satan

This entire section is basically about how JKR must be a Satanist, because she apparently depicts the world of magic and the occult with perfect accuracy, and how could she do that except through being an active practicing witch herself?

Mirrors are believed to be a portal to another dimension, including Time.  Occultists believe they can go forward or backward in Time with a mirror being one of the Dimensional Portals.  Harry encounters a mirror, "magnificent ... as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet ... Harry stepped in front of it. He had to clasp his hand to his mouth to stop himself from screaming ... for he had seen, not only himself in the mirror but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him ... 'Mom?', he whispered.  'Dad?' They just looked at him, smiling ... Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life." [p. 208-9] 

Intriguing theory, except of course for the fact that the mirror isn’t a portal to jack shit; unless you count the weird trick where he can get the stone (and only the stone) through wishes or whatever the fuck these idiots do, and all it does is show someone what they want. It’s not actually reaching into the past to find Harry’s parents or whatever, just like it’s not actually reaching into a parallel dimension future where Ron is the king of everything. It’s just . . . idk, reading their subconscious and throwing up a neat visual or something. With magic. It’s complex, but it’s definitely not what Cutting Edge says it is.

Not pictured: a portal to another physical, metaphysical or temporal dimension. It’s literally . . . just a mirror, but a mirror that reflects your insides instead of your outsides. It’s clever or something.

Do you realize Rowling has just made the creator of the Sorcerer's Stone 666 years old?  Do you realize what this means?  Since the number, '666', is a symbol of Antichrist and his Mark of the Beast [Revelation 13:18] and since Rowling ties this number to the Elixir of Life, Harry Potter is teaching children that the way to achieve eternal life [Elixir of Life] is to obey the Antichrist and take his Mark of the Beast!

Fucking. Yes. I don’t even have witty commentary for this, I’m just delighted by every word in that section. I’m smiling so much. 

This is a gift and we’re reading it for free!

Wonderful! We have the forbidden practice of drinking blood in this Potter book, forbidden in Scripture [Genesis 9:4-5] but practiced regularly in Satanism. I wonder if Chuck Colson, Focus On The Family, and Christianity Today ever told their Christian followers about this?  Have they even read this book, before they issued their acceptance of Potter?

Don’t you dare try to employ sarcasm. People who believe in the Illuminati and New World Order are not allowed to be sarcastic -- even if the thought of this faceless stranger typing that little clever “Wonderful!” and smirking to themselves about how witty they are is a very, very good mental image.

Also, what the fuck did unicorns do to deserve being associated with the Antichrist? I mean, I get the color green; it’s the color of nature and the outdoors, and that shit fucking sucks. (Fuck you, trees!) But unicorns?

Unicorns have never done anything to anyone, ever. Unicorns couldn’t be Satanists if they tried.

This means evil Lord Voldemort -- whose killing curse upon Harry, his Mom, and his Dad had rebounded against him when Harry did not die -- is near death, and is seeking to drink the Unicorn's blood to stay alive long enough to finally achieve eternal life through drinking the '666' Elixir of Life.

Yes, that is -- sort of -- the plot of this book.

This is the specific New Age doctrine being taught here: people will have to draw their temporary spiritual life from The Christ until the time comes when their individual consciousness will have been raised so much they will achieve their personal godhood, and live forever!

This concept is genuine New Age, is consistent with prophecy, and Rowling depicts it very well!

Christian parents, do you want your child to be taught this New Age doctrine?  Can you see Harry Potter playing the Pied Piper and leading your children straight to the Mark of the Beast?

Pied Piper count: 1 (that’s not a lot so far, but it’s used in like every essay. It’ll come back)

I don’t know how to tackle this, because I’m not sure Cutting Edge really understands that Voldemort is the bad guy in these books. Children aren’t going to read this book and then go, “Cool! I’m gonna go stab a unicorn and drink its essence because my favorite role model You-Know-Who told me to!”

The unicorn blood thing is unilaterally portrayed as a pretty bad move. Voldemort’s goals in general are pretty obviously not great ideas. I know Cutting Edge doesn’t have the benefit of hindsight here, but Voldemort’s quest for immortality and how bad and wrong and fucked-up that is, is kind of one of the major through-lines of the entire story. It could be argued that it’s not Voldy’s desire to live forever that’s wrong so much as his whole, like, genocide thing, which is legit . . . except that all the methods to attain immortality involve killing someone, or stealing something, or otherwise being Not a Good Dude.

Voldemort is Not a Good Dude, and I don’t know how to communicate that any clearer than the books written for third graders already did.

Part 6: I don’t really know, I just wanted a chance to break this endless essay up and this seemed like a good place to do it. So let’s talk about spells some more

Many spells require both the taking of drugs and demonic possession, so it is a matter of gravest importance that Harry is actually going to learn to cast spells.  When Chuck Colson dismisses the casting of spells as innocent and of no real importance, did he know this fact?

I seem to have missed the part where Harry goes off his ass on LSD and gets possessed by B’aal. Was that in the Silmarillion? 

whenever a witch changes the physical characteristics of something, he or she is practicing very high-level witchcraft, has a high level of demonic possession, and has had to carry out human sacrifice themselves or have someone else do it for them.

“It’s fiction” is often a bullshit excuse to justify bad framing, but I feel like it applies here, because maybe in the “real” world spellcasting requires you to trip balls and summon demons, but it’s extremely obvious that it doesn’t work like that in Harry Potter! You can’t just say that’s what the books are teaching when the books aren’t actually teaching anything even close to that! 

(I’m starting to feel like my emphasis italics are having a similar effect to Cutting Edge’s red bolded letters. Fuck if I’m gonna stop using them, though.)

If Harry and his pals were wearing goat heads and putting virgins into a giant blender or something I think you might have an argument here, but when the people reading your essay have eyes and can see that the things you’re describing aren’t anywhere in the books, you’re just lying. And it’s very obvious, and I still love you, Cutting Edge, but you’re being disingenuous and it’s starting to kill my joy-boner to constantly have to point out the ways you’re misunderstanding a children’s book, especially when I think you’re kinda doing it on purpose. So how about you chill just a little bit and we’ll all read some Harry Potter together.

Magical Drafts and Potions , by Arsenius Jigger.  Some of the potions are very real, very deadly.

Wait, did Rowling publish this one, too? How do you know what’s in the book? Does the book list some real potions and how to make them, or is this another thing that’s only available in the Cutting Edge’s copy of the books? 

Students were told they could also "bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad." [p. 67]  These three creatures are important to an occultists. Satanists have always revered the cat because of its reputed "nine lives", which is a symbol of reincarnation. Cats are also symbols of a witch's familiar spirit.

They have revered the frog because his prominent bulging eyes represent the All-seeing nature of Lucifer.  Frogs are also consistently used in many of the potions witches concoct.  They revere owls as a symbol of occult wisdom and omniscience -- again because of their eyes.

So fuck cats, I guess. They’re being pretty unfair to owls and frogs too -- especially insulting their poor eyes. They can’t help it! -- but I’m a crazy cat lady and I’m not feeling this slander.

Actually . . . my cat looks pretty high right now. Maybe she is channeling Satan.

Okay, never mind. Fuck all these animals. They’re all evil. This article is entirely right, and I renounce all of my previous statements.

McGonagall has obviously mastered her Craft because she was the tabby cat seen by Uncle Vernon reading a map, back in chapter one.  Remember that any time a witch or wizard practices transfiguration, they need expert spell-casting, and demonic possession.  I bet no one ever told you that little fact, did they?

No, they didn’t, because it’s not even remotely relevant to the fictional book written for children.

Like, I’m trying very hard to not question anyone’s religious beliefs, so if you believe in the occult and magic and all that then more power to you, and maybe it’s totally valid to think that real-life magic spells requires demonic possession. That doesn’t make it true in the books, though! Stop making shit up!

Potions Class -- taught in one of the dungeons [p. 136]  How disgusting must the atmosphere for this class, and others, taught in a dungeon, which was built to torture people to death?

If only the classroom, teacher, and overall environment for the Potions classes was meant to be as viscerally unpleasant as possible. Then putting them in the dungeons would be a really good idea, to reflect the Slytherins’ backwards beliefs and the misery of their intolerance.

Like, JKR isn’t this subtle. When you name one of your antagonists “Bad Dragon,” you’re not aiming for this subconscious-symbolism bullshit.

Part 7: Did you think this book had a good moral? Fuck you!

The fundamental occult/Communist philosophy

Well, I guess we’re talking about Communism now! Because if there’s anything Harry Potter is interested in above all else, it’s Communism.

My favorite things about these essays is how they will pull in other social ills -- abortion, public schools, communism -- and slap them into their argument regardless of if it makes any semblance of sense.

Anyway, Cutting Edge actually has a legitimate argument here, although they take it about 50 steps too far:

the "Ends Justify The Means" permeates this entire book.  To achieve a goal deemed good, Harry and his friends consistently break rules, steal, and use Witchcraft against others.

It is true that Harry and his friends break the rules, lie, and otherwise do “bad” things in the service of an ultimate good, and that they suffer relatively few consequences for it. This is a legitimate point, and actual people who know things agree.

I’ve been struck speechless by this article before, but this is the first time it’s because I think they might have an actual point.

Hermione was very mildly punished [for her lie to the professors about why they were fighting the troll], but her lie cemented a friendship with Ron and Harry, leading a child to conclude that her lie served an excellent purpose, and could not be considered 'wrong'.

I mean . . . yeah? I don’t think it’s entirely reasonable to assume that children will take that lesson away, but I read it as a child and I certainly didn’t think Hermione was wrong to lie -- nor do I now, which I suppose proves just how powerful the Satanic conditioning was.

Professor Quirrell told Harry, "There is no good or evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it ." [p. 291]  This is standard Witchcraft, and standard Illuminist doctrine.  This doctrine is the guiding light to those Illuminists who are driving the world into the Kingdom of Antichrist.  This doctrine is very seductive to those immature children trying to grow up in our current culture; since a child's inherent nature is evil, he will find such philosophy more appealing than the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  Christian parents, beware!

Oh thank God Satan, we’re back to the bullshit. I was getting seriously weirded out by the idea that they had good points buried in here somewhere, but now we’re just faced with the argument that the bad guy says . . . bad things . . . and is defeated because his bad ideas are obviously bad and wrong . . . and this proves that the book is teaching children to believe the bad things?

No one reads these books and wants to be the bad guys, Cutting Edge. Kids aren’t buying Harry Potter wands and robes to pretend that they’re Quirrell, trying to keep people from finding out they have a Dark Lord on the back of their head. (Though now that I’ve mentioned it, that sounds like a very fun game.) 

Depicting bad things in a way that makes it clear -- to children, I must reiterate -- that they’re bad isn’t the same thing as romanticizing or promoting those bad things. This is basic stuff, CE.

Revenge Motive : "Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges:  Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying, and Much, Much More , by Vindictus Viridian." [p. 80] Throughout these books, seeking revenge and attacking your enemies is high on the priority list of Harry, his friends, and other students.  Do you want your children to adopt this most Satanic attitude?  Notice the first name of the author of this revenge book, above, is named "Vindictus, i.e., Vindictive".

Students are taught to depend upon Witchcraft for every part of their lives .  All food is conjured up rather than prepared, all the dishes are conjured clean, and even the hospital depends upon Witchcraft to get students well [p. 156].  Neville Longbottom, one of the more clumsy students, received a crystal ball from his grandmother called a Remembrall .  The ball glows scarlet if you have forgotten something you should have done. [p. 145]

That’s . . . fuck, that’s actually kind of another good point. Stop kinda making sense, goddamn it!

A lot of the criticism is just that the things wizards do are cool, which will make kids want to become witches/wizards in order to do those cool things, too. And to be fair, the stuff Harry et. al. does are cool, and I did want to be a witch when I grew up. Fortunately, I was in third grade, and so my options for witchcraft were relatively limited; by the time I was old enough to pursue the endeavor properly, I was also old enough to know that it was actually nothing like Harry Potter. If magic actually was anything like those books make it seem, we’d have a lot more witches running around, zapping shit.

Possible reference to homosexuality .  When I was first researching Harry Potter, I examined several pro-Potter websites. The author of one of the articles said that one of the probable developments she felt would occur in the latter books was the advent of homosexuality in the story theme. She said such activity was only hinted at in the first books.  

Oh dear god, Cutting Edge found the shippers. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

(I wonder if this means they’ve also read the Draco Trilogy.)

I do have to take issue with one last point in this bit about morals, where they talk about how scarring it might be to a child to see Voldemort possessing the back of Quirrell’s head:

Rowling could not have created a better description of demonic possession by a dark and powerful demon!  Christian parent, is this the type of thing you want your child to bring into their minds?

Thing is, I’ve been in a lot of Christian circles for most of my life, and this sounds exactly like the kind of dark, traumatizing thing many religious parents would be happy to put into their children’s minds.

Part Almost Done: Definitely Intentional Satanic Symbols, Really

Hey, did you know the number 11 was occultist? I didn’t, and when I Googled it, 4 of the front-page results were Christian or conspiracy groups making this claim, 2 were unclear, and 3 actually seemed to indicate some level of belief in the power of the number 11. Though I might’ve stacked the deck with the word “occult”; when I changed my search term to “magic,” I found almost exclusively positive articles about the symbolic power of the number 11, so . . . Cutting Edge isn’t necessarily wrong. 

But boy, did you know how many times the number 11 shows up in Sorcerer's Stone? Not very much, but if we stretch our credibility a little bit, we might see something spooky!

Harry was eleven (11) when he was admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  The number eleven is considered sacred to the occultist, as it is the first primary number.  Occultists will also add up numbers to get an occult number that is sacred; thus, I was highly interested when the bank vault maintained for Harry by his Mom and Dad before their death was numbered '713' [p. 73].  When you add '7 + 1 + 3 = 11'.  Then, we learn that, in the money of the Fantasy Reality, "twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle".  When you add 2 + 9 = 11.

When Harry found the wand that was meant for him, it turned out to be 11 inches long! [p. 84]

The Hogwarts Express Train left at 11 o'clock from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. [p. 91]

Oh man, that’s some convincing evidence. Evidence of what, I have no idea, but it uses math and I’m sure it’s very alarming!

" Sorcerer's Stone " is also called the "Philosopher's Stone", and is very, very Satanic!  Rosicrucianism teaches that an Initiate will pass through five stages to become the highest Adept possible, to be most proficient in exercising the power of Satanism.  They call this process the "Five Stages In The Transmutation of the Soul".  The final stage is depicted by the Phoenix Bird; the Adept is then said to have achieved the "Sorcerer's Stone".  Thus, the fact that the term, "Sorcerer's Stone" is in the title of this book suggests that the ultimate goal of all students at Hogwarts is to achieve the Sorcerer's Stone.

Wow, that sure is an interesting interpretation of the rock that shows up in the book for like 6 pages and then is immediately destroyed! Alternate theory, if you’re open to it: It’s a rock, named the Philosopher’s Stone because the Philosopher’s Stone is historically the name of a rock, called the philosopher's stone, and it's literally just a rock and doesn't mean anything Satanist because it's a fucking ROCK.

(Pictured: A rock)

There’s a really odd part right after the long discussion about how alchemy and unicorns and whatnot are Satanic Illuminati symbols, where CE just takes a moment to explain the game of Quidditch. No commentary beyond a sassy little “[Even the Quidditch balls are 'enchanted'].” Just . . . sort of letting you know how the game is played.

To be fair, this is quite a valuable service, since I don’t think anyone actually understands how Quidditch works, but I’m not sure what it’s doing sandwiched between two declarations of Harry Potter’s obvious evil.

PART THE LAST THANK GOD: WHO THE FUCK NEEDS A SUBTITLE IT’S ALMOST OVER

The first few paragraphs are standard boilerplate conclusion stuff, reiterating the rest of the story, continued misunderstanding that bad things are done by the bad guys, no there really are drugs and Illuminati propaganda in here I promise, yadda yadda. Nothing noteworthy except for the fact that I found this sentence absolutely hilarious:

But, most horribly, we see depictions of Satanism that are truly End of the Age.  We see the symbol of Antichrist, the Unicorn.

And so I leave you with this one final thought, because it’s all I can fit into the saggy mush that was once my brain:

From Genesis through Revelation, God demands His people separate themselves from the evil around them! SEPARATE!  SEPARATE!  SEPARATE!

S E P A R A T E 

[writing-royza]

Tainted Blood, Tainted Soul: Chapter Thirty-one - Change in Plans

A/N: Happy Sunday, everyone! I hope everyone's summers are going well; I realized I hadn't sent out that particular good wish and I thought I had better do it before summer's gone! Mine has been…busy, which you'll know if you've been reading my last few author's notes. And it's not slowing down any time soon, the same of which can apparently be said for this story! I had originally intended it to be about the same length as Father Figure, but the story kind of took on a mind of its own. Oh well, I suppose it's just more to love. Enjoy this week's chapter!

I do not own FMA.

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Chapter Thirty-one - Change in Plans

GUEST ACCOMMODATIONS, JADAD, ISHVAL 0833 HOURS, APRIL 29TH

Knocking on the house's front door for the third time, Rebecca leaned close to the wood and called "Riza, if you and your undead boss don't get your collective butts in gear, we're leaving without you!" She waited, listening closely, but there was no sound from inside, either of an answering yell – and with her insult to Mustang, there would have been yelling – or even footsteps approaching the door.

"She's your superior officer, and yet she allows you to talk to her like that?"

Rebecca jumped, turning to look over her shoulder to where Scar was approaching. His expression was lightly curious, the red eyes focussed on her before they flicked briefly toward the still-closed front door. She allowed herself the shortest of seconds to watch the way the morning sun glinted in his white hair, and outlined the sharp angles of a face that looked like it had been sculpted from smooth milk chocolate… and then shrugged airily.

"Best friendships supersede the rank and file sometimes," she commented. "Look at Mustang and his friend Hughes; not exactly a whole lot of saluting and yes-sirring going on there."

"I never had the chance to meet him, but from what I'm given to understand, he was a very good man." Scar hesitated briefly, then added, "The Colonel showed strong emotion on finding the killer; it isn't hard to see that they were close." He indicated the door with a nod. "Perhaps they've already left to join the others?"

"I don't think so." She glanced back along the street the way she had come. "We were supposed to meet at the place Armstrong and I are splitting, and I took the most direct route here without passing them." She shrugged. "Could be they both just overslept. Riza sleeps like the dead; she wouldn't hear me knocking if she was right on the other side of the door."

Without a word, Scar moved past her and off down the side of the small house, his sandalled feet kicking up small puffs of dust as he walked. Rebecca followed, curious as to what he was up to, as he circled the building to its rear and stopped by one of the windows. The curtains were pulled most of the way across, leaving only an inch opening into the room beyond.

The scarred man cupped one hand to the glass to cut the sun's glare, gazing intently inside… and his already present frown deepened. He didn't bother to explain the reaction, merely turned and kept moving toward the house's back entrance. Rebecca followed, having to move at a trot to keep up with his longer, urgent strides.

He didn't hesitate when he reached the door; his right arm withdrew from the folds of his robe, his palm pressed flat to the sturdy planks, and in an implosion of dust and splinters, they disintegrated.

Something cold washed over Rebecca as her eyebrows shot upward. Riza had told her about the murders this man had committed… and now she could imagine how they might have looked. Stepping through the doorway after him, her stomach beginning to fill with nervous dread, she asked quietly, "What did you see?"

"Nothing," he answered.

"Try again, buddy," she scoffed, trailing behind as he moved purposefully down the hall. He opened the door to one bedroom, looking briefly inside before moving to the next. If she recalled correctly, the first door was Mustang's room, with Riza's being at the end of the hall. "Something has you spooked, now what is it?"

Opening the second bedroom door, Scar peered inside, then turned back to her. "As I said, I saw nothing," he said gravely. "That is what disturbs me. They aren't here."

It was true. Mustang's bed looked slept in, but it was vacant, and the clothes he had been wearing the day before were folded on top of the dresser in the corner. Moving down the hall, she glanced into Riza's room, finding it immaculate with no signs of occupation aside from the homespun dress on a hanger that hung from a peg in the wall.

Either they're both in their pajamas, or they're running around in the buff, she thought distractedly. Either way, they wouldn't have gone to meet the others in anything other than everyday attire. No, something had happened and the two of them had skedaddled off somewhere. Maybe Kimblee had paid them a visit in the night? Forced them to fight or to follow him?

"In here."

She followed Scar's voice back to Mustang's room, found him holding the bedsheet back and staring at the mattress. He looked up as she entered, and pointed to something just out of sight behind the rumpled sheets.

When she came around to his side, it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing. A pile of fine, pale sand, with several dried flowers that had once been white half-buried in the grit. Flung a little to one side was a length of silver wire twisted into an intricate shape. Having never seen the contents of a protection charm outside of their carrying pouch, it took her a moment to recognize them for what they were.

"Oh, damn…" she murmured, feeling the sense of dread grow a little stronger. "It was just the two of them here last night… and Riza was the only one wearing a charm…."

Scar's eyes were travelling around the rest of the room, and his mouth thinned into a grim line. "I have some idea of what may have happened," he said after a moment. Letting go of the sheet he had been holding, he crossed to the dresser and bent, picking something up from beside it. "I think the Colonel's transformation may have advanced farther than we had thought. The Lieutenant realized this, and came in with a charm –" He held up the one he had just retrieved from the floor. "And in trying to force it onto him, he tore hers. That released her vampire personality, and together, they've run off during the night. Possibly to rejoin Kimblee."

A cold, creeping dread climbed up Rebecca's back, settling clawlike fingers onto her shoulders. She shivered. "Oh no…. Poor Riza. What can we do?"

The tall, scarred man was quiet a moment, contemplating, before he said, "We should get the others. They need to know, and then we can make a decision."

Turning on his heel, he made his way out of the house, Rebecca close behind him. Neither spoke, each absorbed in their own thoughts, processing this new situation. Despite the morning sun warming her skin, Rebecca couldn't help but watch her surroundings, just in case Riza was watching from the shadows… or Kimblee was.

The city, which had felt relatively safe to her, now had a subtle cold, dangerous edge.

---------------

UNINHABITED ZONE, JADAD, ISHVAL 0907 HOURS, APRIL 29TH

She was waiting in a corner of the room, watchful and silent, when he regained consciousness. The room was filled with shadow, giving her plenty of space to remain partially hidden, and to circle the lone, weakened sunbeam that came through the window hindered only by a canvas curtain.

Roy lay in the centre of the square of light on the floor, another precaution on her part. It wouldn't hurt him, hut it would at least slow him down if he decided to come for her, which after tricking him, knocking him unconscious, and kidnapping him, she fully expected him to do.

His fingers twitched, one hand rising to clumsily rub at his eyes. He yawned, his head lolling to one side… and Riza could almost forgive him for trying to outwit her at the house. He cut such a picture now – an alluring kind of indolence – that she could almost forget how he had tried to oppress this new, better her for the second time.

His head rolled back to an even keel again, and his eyes opened to stare, disoriented, at the ceiling. From her vantage point, with the sun falling as it did, Riza was gratified to see the tinge of deep purple colouring the irises.

"You've kept me waiting," she said flatly into the silence.

Roy didn't jump, or otherwise react to her presence. He had known she was there, sensing her with the first tinglings of a psychic connection just as she felt his presence begin to grow and strengthen as he came awake. Came alive, so to speak. When he answered, his voice was a slightly huskier version of its usual smooth timbre, conjuring a thrill of pleasure deep within her.

"My apologies," he murmured, rolling to one side and easing himself up once he was free from the draining sunlight. His eyes went to where she leaned against the wall in her white abaya – retrieved from a stack of freshly washed and folded clothes before they had left the house – with her arms folded, and her disapproving glare staring him down.

She watched as he rose slowly, crossing the six feet between them, his eyes never leaving hers. "I could have been hunting, or finding us a better place to go to ground." One blonde eyebrow lifted as she gave him an appraising look, watching as he sank to his knees again. "Or else I could have found Kimblee and informed him of your… change. Though I suspect he already knows."

Roy shrugged, unconcerned. "As I said, you have my apologies," he said simply, before bending low. His lips pressed to the top of her foot, before trailing slowly, inexorably upward to her ankle and then along the smooth, taut skin of her shin, one hand lifting to gently push the abaya out of his way. "It's up to you whether you accept them or not."

Riza allowed the trail of kisses to reach as far as the inside mid-thigh, then reached down to stop him. With her fingers curled around his chin, she lifted his gaze hers, her previously appreciative look turning critical. "You've had conscious control of that body for two minutes," she stated with minimal inflection. "Are you trying to put it through all of its paces already?"

"Are you trying to tell me no?" he countered, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. His hand settled on her leg, slithering up the smooth skin under the white cotton of her clothes. He rose on his knees, his hand rising higher and slipping around behind her hip. "We've got all the rest of the day before we can go anywhere. We have to spend that time somehow."

She grinned at that, but pushed him gently away nonetheless. "Yeah, but we both know that if we start going at each other now, we won't stop. And we've got things we need to sort out." Bending, she pressed a fingertip to his chest, well aware of the way his eyes – a much darker purple than her own – dipped to her lips. "But once we're done with that? You're all mine."

"Sure you aren't mine?" he grinned lopsidedly.

Riza threaded her fingers into his hair, tightening her grip and drawing his head back until he hissed in combined pain and pleasure. "Very sure. I created you," she purred, her voice dark with intent. "I made you the way you are. Therefore, you're mine."

She bit lightly, playfully at the side of his neck, her teeth not even coming close to breaking the skin, before she released him and stepped around him, pacing off across the room. "Our biggest concern, for the moment, is where we stand. As I said, Kimblee knows by now that you've turned, but he didn't come to find us before sunrise. He's stuck away from us until nightfall, meaning we have time."

Getting to his feet again, Roy shot her a curious look. "Time?"

"Time to decide whether or not we're going to let him stay in control," she clarified, turning to face him again. "Whether we want to cow-tow to that puffed-up psychopath, or take him down and install ourselves in his place." She smiled knowingly. "You refused before, but that was before your transition. I'm hoping you may feel differently about it now."

Roy shrugged, feigning disinterest, though she caught the gleam of covetousness in his eyes. He wanted to overthrow Kimblee as badly as his human self had wanted to oust Bradley from power. "I could be convinced," he said, lying. He was already on board.

"Good. In which case, there's already a plan halfway in place that we could potentially hijack –"

He raised a hand just high enough to forestall further comment. "Hang on a second. I have a question first." He paused to make sure he had the floor, then continued, "What makes you think I'm fully turned? You only bit me the other day, and it took you most of two weeks to turn fully. Why should it be different for me?"

Riza gave him a deadpan look, folding her arms. "You're fully turned, because the real Roy Mustang wouldn't be trying to get into my pants. He said as much, ad nauseum. You pawing at me is proof enough, aside from the fangs and the purple eyes." She paused, watching him with mild interest for a moment before she continued. "As for why you turned so quickly… I don't know for sure. I only have theories."

"Let's hear 'em."

She settled to a comfortable spot on the floor, her legs folded to one side and her hands resting in her lap when she wasn't gesturing as she spoke. "First of all, you're not trying to heal from something at the same time as the vampirism is trying to take you over. I had severe blood loss before, and was already running on lower energy levels, whereas aside from a debilitating case of self-righteousness, you were completely healthy." She shrugged. "It could also be that the blood that was being infected wasn't entirely my own; it was a transfusion, and I received a second one directly after being bitten. The blood was too diluted of cells that had my actual – I don't know, essence? – that it took until my body could produce new cells to be taken over."

She waved an unconcerned hand. "Or maybe it's just because you're male. Who can really say?"

Nodding thoughtfully, he dropped to a seat on the floor a short distance away, resting his elbows on bent knees. "Makes a lot of sense to me. The virus was a bit diluted since you weren't fully in control when I got bitten, but once it took hold, it went like wildfire."

"Which is probably for the best, if we want to have any kind of fighting chance." Her eyes went to his arms, hidden inside the sleeves of the desert tunic, evidently searching for the faintest outline of muscle in the anonymous folds of fabric. "Because even though you weren't at full strength before you turned… you're likely close to it now."

Roy's eyes glinted in the faint light as they dipped toward her chest, his teeth showing white and ghostly as he grinned. "We could find out…."

"I told you: after we figure out how to dethrone Kimblee," she snapped, the sudden anger in her tone sending the words ricocheting around the small room. "Which, you still haven't said whether or not you'll help me with that."

"Of course, I will," he soothed. "You mentioned something about hijacking the humans' plans?"

She glared at him a moment longer, then pushed aside her annoyance and settled back to business. "Yes. Their plan was a good one, and there's no sense in trying to come up with a new plan when there's one ready made. And without their leaders, they'll be desperate enough to let us in on the takedown."

"Assuming that, without their leaders, they don't lose all confidence and abandon the plan entirely," Roy pointed out. "And if that happens, then it's you and I alone against dear old vampire dad."

Riza shivered delicately. "Don't call him that; that's disgusting and an insult to parents everywhere. If I considered him as any kind of father figure, I'd throw myself into pure sunlight at high noon. And anyway, they'll go through with it. At this point, no matter what staffing changes there have been, they'll have to. It's almost literally do or die."

"Ahh, I see." He sat back, bracing himself on both hands, and regarded her curiously. "So we wait for them to show up at the prearranged location, and then talk our way in before Kimblee decides to crash the party. How is that hijacking their plan?"

"Because instead of letting them kill him like they want to do, we're going to make sure he's incapacitated enough to be manhandled out to that house where your other half suppressed me the other night, break the circles just enough to throw him in, and then seal them back up again." She shrugged. "And after that, we take control of our new city."

"The Ishvalan leadership is going to put up a fight," Roy mused aloud, his eyes distant as he stared at the far wall in thought. "And if they throw their priests and warriors at us, we could be hard-pressed to keep control… unless we give them incentive not to attack. It could be a messy takeover; I think a hostile one is a given."

"No doubt." She was watching him closely. "But you're on board?"

"Why not?" He grinned, his eyes coming back into focus and fixing on her. "I've always wanted to be king."

---------------

UNINHABITED ZONE, JADAD, ISHVAL 1927 HOURS, APRIL 29TH

The last golden wash of sunset was falling on the city as the group made their way toward their target building. They walked in silence, each carrying a pack with some form of equipment or supplies, each deeply absorbed in their own thoughts. A thin plume of dust rose behind them, the motes sparkling as they hung in the still evening air.

"I hope this will be enough," Fuery murmured, hitching his pack higher. "Scar says it's a big building, and this is going to be a bigger circle than they've used so far. Here's hoping it still works the same."

"From what I understand, as long as the symbols are in the right order and the right shape, the size of the circle doesn't matter." Breda kept his eyes forward, his expression grim. He had run through the strategy three times before they left, and had been playing it in slow-motion in his mind since they left the residential area, looking for any flaw in their plan. "And we have enough anti-vampire paraphernalia to keep us alive until we can make it work."

Walking just ahead of them, Falman looked back, shaking his own pack until a muffled clacking and the sound of shifting metal came from inside. "We could arm half a platoon with wooden stakes and holy iron alone," he pointed out. "And with as much wild garlic, silver, and blessed sand as we're carrying, we could face two dozen vampires, easily."

"Let's not put that to the test," Armstrong commented from just ahead of Falman. He looked back, cheerful smile taking any sting out of the rebuke. "Two and a half – or possibly three – is more than enough for my taste."

"Yeah, something tells me that if we have to deal with all three at once, it's going to be an exercise in herding cats," Rebecca chimed in. "Scar and Miles said she was pretty nimble, not to mention fast. They also said she nearly choked the life out of your boss before he got that last charm on her, so watch out for that, too."

She glanced back when there was no forthcoming reply, and immediately regretted her flippant remark. Slowing her pace, allowing a stricken-looking Fuery to draw level with her, she lowered her voice. "Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I should've thought about what I was saying. I just…." She shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm worried about them, too. Maybe more than I thought."

"I'm not freaked out." Fuery's reassurance was genuine, even though it was delivered without a smile. "I just realized that it confirmed something that had been bothering me. If the vampire in Lieutenant Hawkeye's body was actually trying to hurt the Colonel… then it proves she has no control over the vampire's actions. The Lieutenant would never do something like that."

Rebecca frowned, curious. "…Okay. We pretty well knew that before. What did it confirm?"

"That the two personalities – Riza Hawkeye and her vampire invader – really are two totally separate entities," Breda chimed in, his face lighting with understanding. "We had theorized before that they were, but I had doubts after she bit the Colonel and he began to turn. She admitted herself that there were still some attributes of vampirism that affected her in human form. What if the personalities were fused? Blended, somehow? Separating them could be disastrous for the host."

Swallowing convulsively, Rebecca took a deep breath. "So her trying to strangle Mustang… because it's something Riza would never do and it was a purely instinctual action… it's a clear indication of just how separate the personalities are."

Fuery was already nodding, "Because if the Lieutenant had any kind of a say in it, the attempted strangling wouldn't have happened. If she had even a small amount of control, the dominant traits of the vampire would have won out eventually, but there would likely have been a moment of hesitation, and neither Miles nor Scar reported one."

Having been following the discussion, Falman spoke up. "Meaning that if we manage to take out Kimblee, when the vampire personality fades from the Lieutenant – and subsequently, the Colonel – it will most likely do so without any damage." He thought for a moment, clearly trying to find an analogy. "Like soaking an envelope in water to get the stamp off, instead of trying to peel it off dry paper."

Resettling her shoulders under the pack, Rebecca lifted her chin and put some determination into her step. "Well, whatever it's like, we'd best get it done fast."

"Why's that?" Breda asked. "I don't think that the vampire state becomes harder to break the longer she's in it. It –"

"That's not it." She glanced back, her smile grim. "What kind of friend would I be if I let my best friend live on a diet of blood? There's probably a ton of calories in that."

From the front of the column, Scar looked back over his shoulder, red eyes visible in the slowly gathering dusk. "Quiet," he ordered, voice low. "Our target is just ahead, and since there's a chance we may have company waiting for us, I'd rather not advertise the fact that we've arrived. It would give them time to prepare."

The building was visible just down the city block, its pale stone walls glowing like molten gold in the light of the setting sun. Ribbons of dark tan ran along the perimeter of the roof, around the double doors, and around each broken glass were visible missing from the walls, showing gaps into the darkening interior.

Scar stopped at the building next door to their target, holding a hand up to signal the rest of the column to do likewise. An eerie silence lay over the scene, perfect stillness in the streets around them, and no light other than the dying rays from the west. The warrior shifted in place, rolling his shoulders.

"Something isn't right," he murmured. "I can sense it…."

Miles crept up beside him. "Should we send in a scouting team to clear the building?"

"Couldn't hurt." Looking back, Scar motioned to Armstrong, then shucked his pack and stood straight. "We will inspect the target, and signal you if it appears to be clear. The charms should be protection enough, but all the same…." He looked up to the burly Amestrian. "Keep your alchemy ready, Major."

The two of them stole forward, their steps making no noise in the soft, shifting sand. The rest of the group held their collective breath, watching them cross the remaining distance to the building's ornately carved wooden front doors. The brass fixtures were tarnished and covered in verdigris after so long exposed to the elements, but parts still glinted.

Just as Scar was reaching out for the nearest handle, both doors swung open into the interior.

Catlike, the warrior sprang back a few feet, the fingers of his right hand flexing as he prepared to destroy whatever came at him. Armstrong's muscles strained the fabric of his desert tunic, gauntleted hands curling into automatic fists. The group hanging back tensed, eyes widening and breaths being taken in surprised gasps.

Out onto the front stoop of the building stepped two figures, both in white, one with short black hair, the other with long blonde strands that she tossed back over her shoulder.

The vampire in Riza Hawkeye's body smirked down at the two men in front of her. "Took you guys long enough. I'm practically immortal and I could've grown old and died waiting for your little posse to get here."

Armstrong's tension had evaporated seconds after the duo appeared, and he was now openly staring at the familiar faces in front of him, his mouth hanging open slightly beneath his moustache. "…Colonel? Lieutenant? When you disappeared, we —"

"Whoa, back up a second, buddy." If the purple tinge in eyes that were normally black wasn't enough of a sign that things were wrong, the sudden and drastic change to Roy's mode of speech certainly was. Armstrong's mouth snapped shut, his already wide eyes widening further. "It's the same apartment, but there's a new tenant, if you get my drift."

Scar recovered first, asking the most important question. "What are you doing here?"

Riza shrugged unconcernedly. "Same as you. Seeing the sights, playing tourist, hoping to do a little vampire hunting on the side. I hear that's really big around here."

Miles came forward from the rest of the group, dropping his pack carefully to the dirt in case he needed to move quickly to evade her or her partner. "You're hunting Kimblee, too? I would have thought you were on his side of things." He stopped as her head swivelled, bringing those unsettling amethyst eyes to bear on him. "Unless you are on his side and by 'hunting,' you mean 'trying to find him.'"

A soft snort issued from her nose. "Please, if I wanted to find that sack of shit, I'd just have to concentrate hard enough. As it is, I already know he's close by and closing. He's taking his time about it, since I'm not alone anymore —" She hooked a thumb over her shoulder at Roy, who waved nonchalantly. "— but he'll still be here in… an hour and a half? Two hours?"

"Which doesn't leave us much time." Breda came forward, marching boldly toward the front steps of the building. "Sorry to interrupt the reunion, but we need to get in and get set up for our plan."

"Hold on a second, there, Chubs." Putting a hand on Breda's shoulder, Roy easily held him back from brushing past them. "I think you misunderstand why we're here. Like Miles said, we're hunting Kimblee, too. And there's no reason we can't all work together toward that." He paused as Breda shot him a doubtful look. "…Okay, maybe one reason. But if you'll let me paraphrase something this body's previous owner said during his fight against Lust?"

He grinned, pointed teeth very much in evidence. "This plan of yours is tailor-made for our talents."

"And why should you be trusted?" Armstrong rumbled, having recovered his composure. "The two of you have already deserted us once. What's to stop you from turning on us?"

"Have a little trust, Alex," Riza soothed. "I only took Roy away for a little while so that he could finish transitioning without a lot of nosy people coming in and upsetting things. It's a disorienting process the first time, and although he recovered very quickly —" She shot her partner a mischievous look that he countered with an unrepentant grin. "— I wanted to make sure he could rest without any interruptions until nightfall, if he needed it."

"You could have left a note or something!" Rebecca yelled from further along the block. "Would have saved some time and effort. Not to mention a door."

The Not Riza lifted a hand to her chest, her eyes wide with feigned emotion. "You broke into the house looking for us? That's so unbelievably sweet!" The expression vanished, her hand leaving her chest to wave away the concern. "But there's also nothing we can do about it now. If I'd left a note, then one of you hotheads would've decided to come haring after us and try to stop us. Because that's what you jokers do." She fixed Breda with an exasperated look. "Tell me you don't do that, and I'll call you the liar you are."

"I wasn't going to say anything like that," he shot back. "But did you ever think the note could have said you'd gone ahead and would meet us later, instead of explaining you'd run off to re-vampire yourselves?"

She appeared to think about that for a moment. "Hm. Good point. You really are the smart one of the bunch."

"Going back to the matter at hand," Miles broke in, "you said you wanted in on the plan to stop Kimblee. How are you planning to do that?"

"You have to remember, we have abilities that you don't," Roy answered. "Stronger, faster, won't be affected by a bite like you will. Though, if Kimblee gets pissed off enough and happens to catch one of you? He's not just going to give you a little nip on the neck and let you go."

He gave the same sternly serious look to Armstong, Miles, Scar, and Breda in turn. "If he gets hold of anyone in your group, you'll end up looking like a Central or East City murder scene."

No one moved or spoke for a long moment, each side evaluating the other. Finally, Scar glanced back to where the rest of the group waited and motioned them forward. "You have two minutes to state your case, and convince us, and then we begin setting up. With or without you."

It was Riza's turn to smile. She lifted one arm, moving to lean insolently against Roy's shoulder. "All right; listen closely."

By the time she had finished outlining how to fit two vampires into the spaces of a plan previously occupied by two humans, the sun was completely down, and the last vestiges of sunlight were fading from a twilight sky. The group entered their chosen arena for the final showdown with an enemy who was slowly approaching from the southwest.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S1 Ep28: Bakura Can Still Kill Everyone If He Really Wanted To

First off--my apostrophes work again! Many thanks to the tumblr staff who helped out and will never see this post. Now I can update without looking like my computer is encrypting itself as I go.

So guys, I’m all about weird TV and weird movies. I watched the entirety of Color of Pomegranates. I just want you to know that because when I say that “wow this got weird real fast” we are going by my metrics. It’s not as weird as Color of Pomegranates, because well...it has a plot that isn’t under four layers of symbolism and esoteric Armenian poetry, but whenever we have a Bakura episode, stuff just gets UNEXPECTED.

But first, the most wonderful thing has happened:

I mean kind of a weird choice to put some of these things together, but this was about .5 seconds of screen time, I’m just special and can pause to realllllly take it in. Mm.

(Read more under the cut for EVEN MORE FOOD)

Man!

MAN!

What did I do to deserve all this good anime food in the same episode as Bakura doing something completely nuts (again)?

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and we have to go back to cards, which for some reason is still the crux of this show...I think. This is still a show about cards, right? I’m no longer completely sure.

At the start of the season, Yugi was gifted these two cards as entrance tickets to the Island of Regret where they are now hanging out. These cards are how you collect your prizes if you win. The one with money is the prize of 3 million (or is it 300 million? It’s been a while since I’ve heard the number). The blank one is the chance to beat Pegasus. I assume your soul will go in the blank one after he beats you.

Youknow, it’s really a shame we never got to see the stats on Grandpa, Mokuba, and Seto cards. I don’t think they even had any. I mean, when Bakura turned his friends into cards, at least they had stats.

Anyways, some of our contestants have suddenly remembered that they actually have no right to this contest.

But, turns out Pegasus also has an interest in anime food, so he’s done something a little extra for...some reason.

DEAR LORD. I mean it’s not a real eyeball but think about the eye grease for a moment. Firstly, I don’t even know if you have to grease up a false eyeball and I want to look it up but I am too afraid. Secondly, now my mind is thinking of every unctuous substance that may or may not grease up a false eyeball. It does not pair well with pumpkin soup.

There’s eyeballs...in the soup...

This is when you go home. This is when you say “sorry Gramps, but...I am pretty sure that guy is a cannibal, I gotta goooooo.”

I mean, again, it’s not a real eyeball but freakin A are they having a weird halloween dinner party? Why would you do this? Why would you EVER put your own eyeball facsimiles in the soup? Is it like “eat my ass” but “eat my eyes” ?

Pegasus doesn’t get many guests and I can start to see why Kaiba hated him so damn much. Can you imagine working with this guy on a daily basis as the head of a large corporation while constantly getting pranked with his weird ass eyeballs?

Does it say “I open at the close?”

Why did they do -- what?!

This was all about a stupid bracket? What the hell, Yugioh?

The boys decide to throw caution to the wind about what may or may not be in this bizarre dinner that not even Pegasus wants to eat and they fully gorge themselves and get a real good food baby belly going.

I guess Yugi didn’t really eat because he is fully alert and his empty beacon eyes are still one of the most spooky things on this show.

Yugi decides to hand off his card to Joey right in the view of Bandit Keith, and Joey only takes it when Yugi convinces him that now they’d have twice the chance to beat Pegasus. I mean, not really, actually, but it was still a nice thing to say. Yugi is a kid of sooo many good intentions.

Mai goes to bed and says this actual line from the show.

Despite the fact that she’s so acidic about...eh...75% of the time, she really is the nicest person they have met on this horrible, terrible island. In fact, everyone is ready to tuck in to the most clearly haunted murder castle as if eyeballs weren’t just hanging out in their soup. What a bizarre heartwarming round of goodnights, as if there wasn’t clearly several people out to very much kill them living in the same castle as them.

This is how Agatha Christie novels start.

This episode does not actually dive into Joey’s gigantic donut dream, which is a shame.

Because this episode, it’s time for our B-team to shine.

I love the implication here that Tristan first knocked on Bakura’s door, woke him up with this and then Bakura clearly answered along the lines of “Bollucks, Tristan, I am not doing this right now” to which, Brakura dragged him down to Tea’s door in the hope that Tea would be at all reasonable.

Which backfired him in a major way because Tea and Tristan are desperate to chase some snipes and prove themselves useful.

I honestly can’t tell if Bakura even likes these guys. I mean, I get that they’re school friends but, this guy was introduced as totally murdering them and then getting magically “cured” with the same cure that failed on Seto Kaiba. The fact that this meek little fake-british accent can get so easily snowplowed by Tea and Tristan is never clearly just an act or just him getting snowplowed.

But, apparently there’s some part of him that is still that tiny little nice-side-of-Bakura, so dutifully, he decides to babysit, since the only other psychic they got around is currently having an eyeball-soup induced dream.

Back at the dueling arena, Tea decides to stand guard/do nothing as usual.

Tristan reveals why he has a grudge against Psychics.

Tristan’s character is pretty flat. It basically revolves around mothering everyone elses problems and pining about Serenity who is barely a character on this show. I always figured that Tristan was at least smarter than Joey and Yugi, who can be kind of...dumb, but it turns out Tristan is just as empty between the ears.

He gets completely fascinated by a beam of light shining through a window. Forget looking for cameras. Forget the fact that this room was full of Pegasus’ mooks, some of which were standing right behind Kaiba. Na. He’s gonna Sherlock Holmes straight to this window.

During Bakura’s desperate pleas to get these two assholes back to bed, Yugi is getting some crazy as hell conspiracy theories from Grandpa.

Oh, so he’s like a normal grandpa then? Once my Grandma told me that the entirety of San Fransisco would fall into the ocean during an Earthquake and she was EXTREMELY concerned about my safety (despite the fact I live inland, not in San Fransisco), so this dream Yugi’s having sounds like a pretty average dinner conversation with your Grandparents.

No one expects Bakura, not even the colorist.

And then for some reason they want Tea to go first in their climb up the tower although no reasonable girl in a mini skirt would do this in front of two boys.

Isn’t she a freakin dancer? Maybe she’s not as strong as Tristan but she’s certainly the best balanced of the two and could climb way easier because she’s lighter. And Bakura is clearly the weakest but, whatever.

Back in dreamland, Yugi’s grandpa join’s up with the other cards in card hell as if they’re some sort of Grandfather, asshole son, and ghost child card hell trinity

Oh yeah, I nearly forgot I was watching an anime for a second. Nothing like devilish blue fire to make you remember oh yeah, that’s a fine anime fire choice.

But rather than dwell too much on that artistic direction of blue fire, lets see if anything at all was inside of the red herring tower.

They’ve been slipping a picture of this chick all over the place. I’m surprised it took until now, when she’s like 15 feet tall, for them to finally notice “Hey maybe there’s something up with this random chick who is clearly a dead person Pegasus was close to”

Now I gotta get a little art nerdy on you for a moment because this storyboarder is really good at sneaking in people’s reactions right near the focal point without making them the focal point. This whole framing of Bakura’s tired face happens so quickly and I just want to spend a little moment for us to appreciate our storyboarder’s sense of humor.

Now, somehow. SOMEHOW things are going to get weirder.

Because with all this dream sequence stuff happening this looks like it’s a dream but I’m going to come out and say no, this is actually happening. They have, indeed, fallen into some tomb under the castle covered in Egyptian murals and people are chanting about sacrificing souls as offerings.

This happens SO QUICKLY.

THE HELL????

Like remember when I was like “How did all these skeletons get here? what’s up with these skeletons?” I didn’t actually really want them to tie up those loose ends but here we are.

So this has been going on this entire time!? For the past 28 episodes? When Kaiba was like “man Pegasus is the worst!” He didn’t feel like bringing up the crazy killer cult that was living under the island?

And to top it off, Bakura already knows what’s going down. He knows and is quickly getting more and more urgent to get away.

Oh, and PS, The cards we’ve been using these past 28 episodes are now giant stone tablets. Bakura mentioned once that the millennium ring was supposed to work alongside Duel Monsters. And he was like “but duel monsters is like ten years old so whatever” but it turns out that was a complete lie because there’s an ancient version that uses 10 foot tall tablets instead of cards. Their decks would be like 6000 lbs.

Also you die at the end of Ancient Duel Monsters, that part is different, too.

I have so many questions.

I mean you find out when you’re a kid that Ring around the rosies was actually about people dying of the plague and go “eh that’s sad” but it’s nothing like Ring around the Rosies killed people and made serial murderers into magical evil psychics.

I mean it’s never actually said, but there’s enough evidence here that I’d like to think Yugi was sleep running all over the castle during half this episode saying “grandpaaaazzzs” while Bandit Keith was like “OMG are any of them going to go to bed so I can finally steal their stuff?”

But back to the stuff that is actually not a dream and definitely happening. Pegasus pulls back his hood and decides to give them a quick Q and A before he outright kills them.

And so, Bakura, who has been playing dumb for...I dunno, 10+ episodes, who has been doing nothing spectacular and who has been clumsy and sort of a space cadet finally reveals that “yeah, that mind wipe did literally nothing, I’m a still an evil son of a bitch”

And they have a...shine off. Or something. It’s very hard to look directly at.

Thing is, from what we’ve learned, Pegasus is super duper powerful because he’s been killing people under here for many, many years. Every time he does a murder, his power grows. Which means...Bakura should be at a loss since he’s like 12 and...how many people can a 12 year old really murder?

Says a lot about your relationship if you can’t take 2 steps forward without getting Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-ed 4 steps right back where you started.

Welp that’s it, guys! that’s Season 1! Bakura did it! He beat Pegasus! Why Bakura decided to retcon the REAL ending of Season 1 and just put everyone (including the villain) back as if it never happened is a little weird, but hey--at least I got through it. I did it. I recapped all of Yugioh Season 1. I’m proud of me!

Bakura will go back to playing dumb probably for another 10-15 episodes until he can steal that eyeball off of Pegasus. Apparently there wasn’t a good enough opportunity for eyeball theft when he was doing the weird laser show thing.

I assume somewhere, Pegasus is also sitting on his bed in his day clothes and thinking “the hell just happened?” but rather than look at one of his zillions of security cameras is like “well, that’s psychics!”

I’d like to think that Bandit Keith saw Bakura dragging Tea and Tristan’s bodies down the hall and they just nodded at eachother like “crazy evening, amiright?”

Also, a lot of this episode would have been different if any of these people locked their own doors. Like this, for instance, wouldn’t have been able to happen.

Then five minutes later the sun rose.

I mean it’s the only explanation for all the nuts stuff that went down last night.

Next week, on Yugioh:

Will Pegasus have a splitting headache for all of tomorrow and be wearing sunglasses the whole time? Will Pharaoh reveal that in his time off he got really into All My Children? Will they seriously go the third day without washing their clothes? These kids must SMELL.

The hell just HAPPENED?

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Superstition ||

Hey guess what I write fanfic. I’m glad to be done with this one because it took an eternity

Summary: the newest arrival to the BAU team needs to prove her worth by solving a four victim counting homicide. Despite having the help of the team and especially Dr. Reid, will her selfdoubt get in the way of solving this case? 

Warnings: mentions of poisoning and violence

“A good Tarot Reader never gives false hope or leaves a client feeling disturbed.”

― Leslie Anne Franklin

 “So we’re dealing with poisonings?”

The team turned to JJ- it didn’t seem all that out of the ordinary for an unsub to use poison in a kill, but the body count the unsub had created in less than three weeks was a good enough reason for the authorities at the scene to call in the BAU.

“It’s likely to be a female unsub,” Reid concluded. “Statistically women are more likely to use poison than men.”

“Not exactly,” a new voice chimed in, causing the team to turn towards the door where the woman who had spoken immediately felt a blush coming on.

“Ah, I mean… While women use poison more often than men, most female unsubs are most likely to use a gun for a murder. Poison is actually option number 6 among women- I’m sorry for interrupting, but you were kind of treading on my grounds,” she said sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck while looking at agent Hotchner for help. He nodded.

“This is agent Cleo Dewitt, assigned to this case as her field of expertise is toxicology. She’s also coming along because I am supposed to tell her department whether or not she would be fit to be a profiler.”

A few quick hello’s were tossed around as Cleo shyly took the only remaining seat between Spencer and Emily, ignoring the few curious glances as she focused on the rest of the briefing.

A few mentions about the victims were tossed around, that they were all elderly people with close knit family connections. It wasn’t long after the team boarded the plane and the files were handed out among the members, all of them looking over the notes provided. It all seemed pretty clean cut for as far as mystery murders could be with an unsub still on the loose. There was one thing that struck all of them as odd, though.

“It says there was a tarot card found at the scene of the fourth crime,” Spencer noted, watching Cleo as she turned a page to look at this particular card.

“The Ten of Pentacles. Whenever a tarot card is used at crime scenes it’s mostly the death card despite that not actually signifying death, but why would you leave a card that signifies wealth at a crime scene?” Cleo asked, looking up to notice everyone was looking at her. “I’ve… Tarot is interesting, honestly, if you don’t let it actually dictate your free choice in your future” she explained, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks once more.

“It doesn’t just mean wealth in this case, the card is upright which means a gain of wealth, if it were upside down it would be a loss of wealth. Whatever this unsub is trying to say, it’s with this particular card,” Reid added.

“And chances are we’re dealing with an angel of death, here” Cleo added carefully after her cheeks had turned less pink.

After the plane had landed and the team had quickly settled down among the local authorities, the team was split up into smaller groups to cover as much ground as needed. Cleo and Spencer were assigned to check with the morgue about the causes of death and if that would say anything about the unsub.

Reid had noticed that the new agent had yet to look more comfortable than she had at the start of this case, and decided to try his best at some casual small talk; not that he was particularly good at it.

“So, uhm… are you settling in okay?”

“I… guess. Mh, you think I would be used to settling into a new team quickly just from, you know.. Life in general. Yet it always takes me at least a week to fully adjust. I mean, I do fine fitting in with local authorities, it’s not like they expect you to become their best friend in the few days you’re around to help them. I just… do acquaintances better, I suppose. Better than full on friendship which takes time..”

Reid couldn’t help but smile at that, the notion so similar to his own feelings. The silence between them wasn’t awkward, rather pleasantly welcomed by both as they hopped out of the car.

“Miss Dewitt? Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me, if necessary,” Spencer offered, giving her a friendly nod.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Reid. But for now, we have to figure out which poison the unsub uses, and why.”

The answer to that only resulted in more questions, mostly of the kind of why the unsub went with this particular MO. Four people had been killed by receiving multiple high doses of heparin, spaced out over the week until the internal bleeding the overdose caused eventually ended their lives. It definitely wasn’t a very painless way of losing their life.

The duo remained silent as they made their way back to the central gathering point, with Reid carefully watching Dewitt to figure her out. He noticed her nails, the small inconsistencies in shape and length being enough for him to conclude they were naturally grown. They were painted and clean. Yet he concluded from merely observing her during the conversation with the coroner that she was once a nail biter.

In that entire conversation there had been several moments where the other FBI agent had her thumbnail between her molars, without actually biting down; a sign that she had shifted the focus towards this new gesture. The desire to bite apparently still lingered in her system, and it had been a difficult habit to knock.

“So what do we do now?” Cleo asked while they were leaving the building.

“The others are crossing the town, interviewing people, getting a feel for the crime scene.. I guess the best thing for us to do is to go back to our make do base and see what we can find in the further evidence that has been collected there.”

Cleo nodded, simply following behind him and getting into the SUV that would take them back.

Aside from the slow, rhythmic tapping of four fingernails against a hard surface and the occasional rustling of paper, the make shift desk at which Reid and Dewitt had settled to once again look over the evidence was comfortably quiet. Not to say there wasn’t any tension between the two, because there was, but that was more from their desire to solve this case quicker than the pace it was currently going at.

Reid did most of the reading, only occasionally peeking up from the files he went through at incredible speed, to find his colleague staring intently at the tarot card pinned to the evidence board. Something about it was clearly annoying her.

“What are you thinking about?” he eventually asked, smiling carefully and friendly when she looked up, seemingly a bit confused and startled from her thoughts. “Ah, uhm…. It’s just..” Cleo muttered, taking a deep breath before continuing,

“Something just feels.. off. I mean there’s no such thing as an ordinary FBI case, but this… this isn’t even a straight up angel of death scenario. It’s…”

Spencer waited for a moment, and decided to ask when she didn’t continue.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Well… We have four victims here, no sign of anything missing from the house, no sign of any heroic help and according to the families no heritage money is missing either; You would think the unsub is an angel of death just from the number of victims, but then why isn’t anything missing?” Cleo asked, looking at Dr. Reid with a puzzled look mixed with worry on her face.

“What if my conclusion is wrong? What if we’re not dealing with an angel of death like I had originally thought? Because if we are, then what is this unsub even after if not heritage money or praise?”

She groaned, fidgeting with the pen in her hand as her attention was turned back to the tarot card.

“That card is going to drive me up a wall. Why the Ten of Pentacles? Somewhere in that card is the solution to this case and if I could only figure out what the answer is- Oh my god I am so sorry!”

Between talking about what was bothering her and focusing on the card, Cleo had fidgeted with the pen so much that it somehow managed to hit the desk and fly off from her grip; landing precisely on the file Reid had been holding before he finished reading the page. Had it been a mere second or so later he would probably have flipped the page over, most likely sending the pen even further into orbit.

Without so much as a second thought he plucked the pen out from in between the file, sliding it back towards her over the table with a calm gesture.

“I know you didn’t do that on purpose,” he assured, giving her a calm smile. “And I also know that statistically you won’t be able to pull that off again, but mind your pen next time, will you?”

“Again..” She muttered, staring at her colleague as something fell into place.

“Reid, you’re a genius.” “Provably, even, but why?”

Cleo rose from her chair, grabbing the first marker she could find as she jolted down the tarot card name and with that several meanings as well. 

“The reason you have various people in tarot card reading is because the meaning isn’t so one note. To different people a tarot card can mean different things, sometimes even something different from their original meaning. So yes the Ten of Pentacles means wealth gain but another meaning is along the line of hoping that something that worked in the past will work again.

Okay, okay, so- Tarot cards, tarot card reading, they all have to do with the occult, with spirituality, with- with psychics! Reid, I’m going to need that eidetic memory of yours; please tell me you read the witness statements.”

“I did.”

“Did the families of John Hamwey, Rachell Gillings, Amber Rankin and Steve Deeks  say anything about them being superstitious?”

“Uhm, yes. John had an irrational fear of black cats, Rachell didn’t have any mirrors in her house, Amber wore a rabbit’s foot with her at all times and Steve had a horseshoe on the outside of his door-“ Reid halted for a moment, looking at Cleo as he did.

“The unsub is a psychic. like the Tillie Klimek case. According to legend, Tillie pretended to have precognitive dreams, accurately predicting the dates of death of her victims, when in reality she was merely scheduling their deaths. Contemporary accounts tell her cheerfully telling her husbands and neighbors that they were going to die, but there is no record of her claiming to be a psychic; our unsub is.”

He quickly worked through a few files, already having discovered an overlapping name before  reaching over to the phone and quickly dialing the number to get Garcia on the line as he did.

“Garcia, can you run the name Leon Wells through the system for me? He’s been at the victims houses in regular intervals before the killings.”

“Leon Wells, born and raised in Warren, Arkansas. He’s 35 years old, has one criminal record on his name of forgery. he worked for an IT company that went bankrupt four months ago, now he owns a very well running company that provides funeral services.”

“No wonder that runs perfectly, he’s providing the clients himself!” Reid said, with Cleo already making calls to the other members of the team to have the guy arrested and brought in.

Only after the chaos of their joined realization settled down and the rest of the team gave back the call that Leon had been caught did the two remaining FBI agents calm down themselves, clearly relieved.

It was roughly two hours later that everyone was getting settled into the jet to make the journey home from Warren to Quantico. Spencer was further in the back, making himself a coffee as most of the others were asleep. Only Derek and Cleo were still awake.

Morgan calmly joined Spencer to get a drink as well, staying close to his friend as he sipped his drink.

“Well, that was a tough one,” Spencer mumbled as he stirred into his coffee, looking up at his friend. “I’m glad that is over.”

“Mhh, someone doesn’t seem to be looking so glad,” Derek said, casually nodding over to one of the chairs where Cleo was staring out of the window in deep thought. Spencer let his gaze linger, internally debating whether or not to approach her. Maybe leaving her alone would be the best option, if-

“Go,” Derek encouraged, very gently nudging Spencer forward a bit, “You’ve been with her for most of this case. If anyone can pull what’s bothering her out of her it’s you right now. Go on.”

Spencer gave in, slowly wandering over and taking the free seat next to Cleo, taking a sip of his coffee first as he thought of how to even begin a conversation like this. Awoken from her thoughts by the sudden weight next to her, Cleo turned her attention to Dr. Reid, giving him a tired smile that didn’t really reach up to her eyes, her gaze troubled and almost sad.

“That was a tough case, right? I’m glad we caught the guy.” “Yeah…” “You…” his voice wandered off a bit. How was he going to explain his concern?

“Is something wrong?” “I didn’t exactly lead the team in the right direction, now did I?”

She folded her hand under her chin, staring out of the plane’s window as she sighed, with Reid shifting more towards her to regain her attention, waiting for her to explain.

“I concluded that it was an angel of death, and… I guess in truth I wasn’t wrong. But the gain only being to make money off the supplies offered for a funeral? Well, some help I am, huh, leading the case into almost the right direction but not quite. My instincts aren’t supposed to be wrong-” “They weren’t,” Spencer interrupted, wanting to break through to her circle of thought. “It were your instincts that told you something was off, and you listened. If your gut hadn’t told you there was no gain, we wouldn’t have started looking in another direction. And I’d much rather work with someone who admits her profile might be wrong than stubbornly continuing along the path she has set- that would actually have driven us in the wrong direction and Leon Wells would’ve continued killing.”

Cleo looked at Hotch, who’s back was turned towards them, a moment of hesitation on her face before turning back to the person next to her. She searched his face with her gaze for a moment, looking for anything that would either soothe or aggravate her worries.

“So… do you think he’ll let me on the team?” “That’s not for me to decide, but I hope he does. He does want to speak to you when we get back. In his office. Not to freak you out, or anything,” Reid said, looking at his empty cup.

“I’m going to get another drink. Would you like anything?” “Yes, please. A-“ “An earl grey tea, well steeped. I’ll be right back.”

Cleo couldn’t help but give a genuine smile, much more calm now than she had been before as she resumed to look out the window. Things would be alright.

  “It's only by becoming familiar with poisons that you can make the best antidotes.”

― Aprilynne Pike, Destined

[imaginekpoplikethis]

7 years - BadBoy! Jeon Jungkook X Reader - Part 9

Early (but not early since it's 11pm here) updateeee. I honestly feel like I can't go two parts without making something bad happen.

Shall I stop the drama or shall I continue with it??? I don't really know, so I need you guys to let me know your thoughts on it.

Thanks for reading. Love you guys!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 - Here  Part 10.1  Part 10.2  Part 10.3  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16 Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 - Final

You would like to say you survived through all the screaming from your family and best friend but to be totally honest it felt like you had been dragged through hell and back. You were sure that one of your ears had been damaged in the process.

Your mother seemed to be ecstatic with the news that you were dating Jungkook. Her 18 year-old daughter had finally managed to get her first boyfriend and it just so happened to be the one boy she adored as if he were her own son.

She made it sound like you were completely hopeless when it came to relationships.

When you had video called Areum and filled her in on what had happened, she smirked, which was something that shocked you to great lengths. Then she demanded you give her Shinee's new album and that was when it clicked in your head. You had made a bet, hadn't you? Who would have thought you would actually lose? Apparently Areum had.

You had to reassure her that you would definitely hold up your side of the deal and she begun cheering, jumping up and down. When she had finished celebrating, she begun to congratulate you which, in all honesty, kind of embarrassed you. She was making it out like it was some kind of life changing event. When you voiced your thoughts, she claimed it was and gushed over the next step of your relationship.

"It's been less than two hours, Areum."

Blinking, she closed in on the camera, staring straight at you. It made you mildly uncomfortable.

"Two hours is a long time! Soon it will be four and then eight and before you know it, you'll be married and have kids."

How she got from eight hours to marriage is beyond you.

"Are you psychic or something? What do you mean marriage? You actually think we'll last that long?"

Energetically nodding her head, she swung around on her seat before laying her eyes on you again.

"If I'm being honest, I don't think you guys will ever have a major fight now that your together. You've just known each other too long so you understand the intentions behind each others actions. Even if you hurt each other, which is highly unlikely, there will always be a valid reason behind it."

"Do you analyse your schoolwork like you do with my relationship? That could pass as an essay."

Areum chuckled and you thought over what she had said. You understood what she was getting at. You would never intentionally hurt Jungkook, not because he was now your boyfriend but because you didn't want to lose his trust and friendship. If you ever came to a point where you broke up, you would want to be able to continue being close friends.

Why were you already thinking about breakups?

"Anyway, Y/N. I need to finish the maths homework. I'll see you in school tomorrow. Bye!"

She waved at the camera before ending the call, leaving you staring at the screen in thought.

Despite what Areum had said, you still felt that it was possible you would end up hitting a bump in your relationship. The thought made your stomach turn.

It would probably be better to avoid thinking about topics like that.

-

Heading to school the next day, you weren't as excited as you thought you would be. Possibly because you had spent so long freaking out last night. You were drained, having got no sleep. Not even ten minutes.

Upon arriving at the schools entrance, you felt a couple of eyes on you. People were still feeding off of your fight with Hye Mi apparently. Trudging to your classroom, you slid the door open to find Jungkook asleep on his desk and three girls from your class sitting around him. Upon closer inspection, you realised they were admiring your boyfriend.

Too tired to actually care, you slumped into your seat. It wasn't causing you any harm due to the fact that nothing was even happening. You didn't want to have relationship problems on your official first day of dating. Instead you focused your attention on your unopened messages. You hadn't gotten a chance to check them as you were dedicating your morning to trying to keep awake long enough to leave the house.

Areum had messaged you asking if you had remembered to bring your homework, to which you replied a quick 'yep, thanks Areum.' Your next message happened to be from none other than the idiot currently sleeping on the other side of the class.

'Hey, Princess. Make sure to come to school early.'

So much for that. Glancing in his direction, you took in his dozing, slumped figure. You should probably wake him up.

Dialling his number, you watched as he shot up in his seat and whipped his head from side to side in confusion. When he realised his phone was ringing, he all but wrenched it out of his pocket, answering the call without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?" He croaked his greeting through the phone, taking notice of the dumbfounded girls seated around him. Sending them a slightly dirty look, they hopped up and shuffled away, embarrassed to be caught staring.

"Rise and shine, Jeon." Hearing your voice coming from within his phone and the other side of the classroom, you were pleasantly surprised to witness a grin spread on his face at the realisation.

Hanging up on you, he scraped his chair back and stuffed his hands in his pockets, strolling to your desk whilst emitting a cool aura. Taking his usual seat in front of you, Jungkook draped his arms on the backrest of his chair and then laid his head upon them. Gazing up at you from between his eyelashes, he presents you with a faint but handsome smile.

"I can't believe you fell asleep after ordering me to come to school early. That's impolite."

A boyish laugh escaped him and the corners of his eyes crinkled the tiniest bit, taking on a more crescent shape. He reached his hand out towards your hair, grabbing a lock of hair and twisting it between his fingers.

"You're pretty when you're annoyed..."

Huffing, you let your eyes fall to the side, avoiding making eye contact with him.

"Are you implying that I'm not usually pretty? Wow, I am so lucky to date you." You tried to suppress the grin that was threatening to make itself present but Jungkook still noticed.

"My princess is always pretty." You pushed his face to the side and stuck your tongue out, scrunching your face up in mild disgust. Jungkook merely chuckled at your reaction, his plan to make you flustered succeeding.

"Major cringe alert. Please refrain from saying things like that. At least in public." A sly smirk replaced his grin and he wiggled his eyebrows.

"So you wouldn't mind if we were alone? Noted. I'll save it all for when we're alone." What kind of nonsense is he spouting now? Grabbing his ear, you gave it a quick tug which caused him to release your hair and place his hands on yours. He winced in slight pain but his smirk never left his face.

"Pervert. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours." Releasing his ear from your grip, you rested your head on the palm of your hand and stared right back at him. His bunny-like grin grew and a delicate smile spread on your lips. You hadn't taken notice of the students who filed into class until your teacher had arrived, calling everyone to their seats.

Jungkook reluctantly stood from the seat in front you and returned it to the slightly annoyed and intimidated student who lingered beside the desk. Ignoring said student, he placed his hand on your head affectionately and bent down, pecking your lips. A wave of loud whispers emerged from the rest of the class and you hung your head, letting your hair partially cover your now reddening face.

Jungkook seemed to be having a hard time fighting the blush that was slowly spreading over his cheeks.

-

By the time lunch had come around, you were sure everyone had heard the news of your relationship. Obviously, this irked you as it was your private buisness. You supposed it was unavoidable. Jungkook was the schools most difficult and intimidating student whilst you were one of the best students. Of course news like this would spread like a forest fire amongst teenagers. This information didn't stop you from feeling self-conscious. You had almost adjusted to the few stares you used to receive but having everyone's eyes on you whilst you were trying to eat your lunch was another story.

Areum seemed to notice that you were on edge as she tapped you on the arm. Looking up at you with concern filled eyes, she offered you a worried smile.

"Y/N? Are you uncomfortable?" That seemed to gain Jungkook's attention as he immediately stopped his conversation with Seokjin and studied you. His face remained blank but the worry he held in his eyes was evident.

"I'm fine. I just... don't really like all the unnecessary staring." You stabbed your fork into a piece of meat, a light sigh leaving your lips. Jungkook's eyebrows creased and his head shot up to the many students staring with no shame. Sending death stares in every direction, he clenched his jaw and balled his fists. This didn't go unnoticed by the nosy students and they each turned back to their food, terrified at the holes Jungkook was burning into the back of their heads.

When he was satisfied with the outcome of his actions, he switched his focus back onto you and flicked your forehead. You flinched and placed a hand on your head, peering up at him.

"Don't let these pieces of shit get to you."

Taehyung's face moved into your line of sight and he grinned at you. "Yeah! We'll deal with them later!" Giggling, you felt yourself relax at their somewhat reassuring words.

"Deal with them later? Please don't."

Areum nudged you and you turned to face her, a determined look set on her face.

"Don't worry, from now on I'll protect you too."

Areum was just too cute for words. Your smile broadened into a warm grin and you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her in for a quick hug.

"Gosh you're adorable."

Jungkook let out a small whine, grabbing your attention.

"What about me?"

You pinched his cheek and he frowned at the childish way you were treating him in.

"I guess you are too."

-

You decided to enjoy the good weather as much as you could and convinced Areum to come with you to the nearby bubble tea café after school. She was currently gushing over your interaction with Jungkook this morning, having caught word of it in the school hallway.

"You guys are so cute! You're not too clingy but you don't awkwardly avoid each other either. You're right in the middle." Rolling your eyes, you felt your cheeks heat up for the second time that day. Areum rambled on and you opted to listen to her in silence.

When you arrived at your destination, you told her to find a table whilst you ordered your drinks. The line was longer than you had expected it to be so you ended up waiting for ten minutes. As soon as you were presented with your order, you grabbed both cups and searched for Areum. It took you awhile to spot her and when you did you had to refrain from gaping in shock. A boy you didn't recognise had wrapped an arm around her shoulders and seemed to be chatting away, not taking notice of her extremely uncomfortable figure. Speed walking to the table they were situated at, you caught the last part of the conversation.

"Come on, you don't have to lie to me. You're obviously here alone. I think you're pretty cute so let's go chill out somewhere else. Get to know each other." He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive way and you had to stop yourself from giving him a good punch to the head.

"Actually, she's not here alone. She's got company so do you mind leaving? Thanks." You tried to remain as polite as possible but this boy just screamed 'douche'.

"What's wrong baby, you can join us too. Don't be a cock-blocking bitch."

Yeah, he's definitely a douche.

Placing your drinks on the table, you wrapped your hand around his arm and slowly lifted it from Areum's shoulder.

"Well, I'm going to be a cock-blocking bitch and maybe even a batshit crazy bitch if you don't leave my friend alone." He seemed to be taken aback by your reply but soon recovered and stood up, looming over you in what you assumed was meant to be intimidating. It didn't work since he was quite literally a centimetre taller than you.

"Y/N, stop! Please don't get into trouble for me again." You took notice of Areum's extremely worried tone and your determination wavered. You returned your attention back to the problem at hand when you heard him scoff at Areum's innocent plead. This only angered you further.

"Just leave before I lose my shit."

"Woah, what's with the hostility? Maybe I should to teach you some manners..." Proceeding to grab your wrist, he narrowed his eyes at you, daring you to fight back. You felt the grip on your wrist tighten and you were jerked forward, making contact with the boys chest. Right when you were going to show him what hostility looked like, another hand grabbed his wrist in a vice like grip and you looked up to find Jungkook's seething face.

"That's my job. Who the fuck are you and why are your hands on my girl? Can't she have a fucking drink with her friend without lowlife shits like you bothering them?"

The boy stiffened and released your wrist, your hand unconsciously rubbing the partially sore mark that was left.

"J-jeon?"

Jungkook raised an eyebrow and you noticed the knuckles on the hand that was around the boys wrist were turning white.

"Yeah, what? Have you got something to say?"

The boy threw his arm out of Jungkook's grasp and took a couple of steps back.

"Not really, I was just leaving..." Navigating his way around Jungkook, he avoided all eye contact with you and shuffled out of the café. It was then that you noticed everyone's eyes were on you for the umpteenth time that day. Quickly glancing in Areum's direction, you saw Jimin calming her down. Sitting down opposite them, you placed your hands on your head and let out a heavy sigh. Movement from your right side let you know that Jungkook was now sitting beside you. He enveloped you in a hug and buried his face into your hair, mumbling to you.

"Forget about everyone. They don't matter..."  Nodding your head, you wound your arms around his waist and embraced him back. After half a minute, you released each other and he grinned at you, grabbing your drink and sipping some. Hitting his arm, you snatched your drink out of his hand.

"Hey! Don't I get a thank you drink?"

You stuck your tongue out at his pouting face and you heard Jimin and Areum chuckle at your childish antics.

"Not mine."

[awfully-sadistic]

Monday

“So, this is where you work?” Liam “Bonelayer” Johansen whistled lowly; an impressed sound coming from the dark-haired man never came easy.

The past couple of days have been eventful, more than he thought he could handle but things kept on surprising him. First was the word from the main Family house: was it something regarding their roles in the Syndicate? Lord help the rest of the prospects if they weren’t holding up to their jobs and making them look bad. But Liam had one hell of a hard time believing that anything that could have happened between the Clubhouse and the Syndicate could not have been fixed by his husband’s ability to smooth things over. He was the business man, it was why he was President, and he was more than confident that whatever was broken could have been fixed… by Vaughn. So, it was annoying to hear that this wasn’t the case this time. He had to put in an appearance himself considering this was his own Family he was dealing with and Vaughn used reason to convince Liam that it would be best for him to deal with his family himself, that it was stronger to hear from family. It was one hell of a ride to hop on a plane with nothing but his suitcase and a head swirling with bad thoughts about why the hell he had to make this appearance and be torn away from everything and everyone he knew back home. But what turned out to be an annoyance quickly turned into pleasantries—it was like time never lapsed between him and his cousins when he arrived. He got along best with the elder twins, always had, and there was the outrageous rivalry between him and Ripley. Of course, Felina was always the snot-nosed brat she always was and never hesitated on making him forget about the rank she pulled on him.

           The family reunion had been …. alright, at best. It was nothing serious even though he was told it was an emergency. It was just to get him on the plane ride over and apparently Vaughn was in on it. If he would have asked, Liam would have told him to forget it. And the only emergency he might have considered worth coming over was the fact that he heard on Saturday that the Clubhouse would have to be moved across the country in order to participate in this… merging between Families. Saturday night saw that he understood what this merging had meant… though he was not exactly quite clear on everything. Just the bare basics. There was something about an upcoming meeting and all that, but right now, everyone was still in the process of moving from their homes and into what Liam thought would be a home base sometime soon; from what he was told, it wasn’t ready yet and neither was this supposed penthaus. Again, he had no idea what the hell that meant or what was going on except that among the familiar faces of his Frenzy ties, there were also familiar faces from the opposite family too.

           Two faces he did not think he would be seeing as soon as he had. When Cavon and Luvon Dreadful put in their time at the Clubhouse and took their leave citing Family emergencies back home… he expected he wouldn’t have heard back from them until perhaps years later down the road. Though the emergency bit explained a lot now that he understood what they meant. He was in the same boat now too. Was that how they were “got” too? It had been nearly a year or so since he saw the Dreadful twins only to be surprised with their identical smug-looking smirks walking through the door to that strange pizza parlor.

           Oh yeah, he didn’t think he was going to ever forgive Cav and Lu for holding out on what a prize their little sister was and for that matter, everyone at the Clubhouse was also going to feel his wrath. Of course, he didn’t know the extent of who knew what, but he knew that at least Vaughn, Ewan, Mark, and Malachai knew. Those guys for sure were the ones with the need to know clearance for anything big happening with the Clubhouse …and this was big. Perhaps Voyd and the boys at the Parlor Shop too if Gramp’s words were correct—that they’d be joining the Family at New Senzannini as well. That was great news but holy fuck, it was a lot of change in a day as well as trying to swallow the fact that someone really special happened to enter his life right when he thought that everything was as content as could be.

           All of this information he took in overwhelmed Liam to the point where he almost skipped his pills for the past two nights into his visit until Diesel would remind him—each time; a favor from Vaughn, no doubt. And perhaps the fact that Diesel knew everyone’s health and mental conditions. It annoyed him, peeved him, that he’d be reminded but Diesel cited he didn’t want to have to put a rabid dog down especially if they were rabid enough to hurt someone close to him. He didn’t have to wonder who that person was and why it was important that Liam be on his best behavior. But seeing how everyone functioned in this Family…. best behavior was variable, at best. With Ripley running around the grounds and threatening to beat this and that’s face in or running amok with whom he discovered was related to the Dreadful’s, he could see a lot of the Clubhouse come through and knew that it was a home the boys would no doubt fit right in because it was the same in a sense. He had no idea how the fuck the Dreadful’s helped the Frenzy’s lighten up but they did; he’s seeing sides of the Frenzy’s he had never seen before. Diesel actually enjoys taking breaks. Alessio fucking laughs. Ripley’s …well, she was the same. But most importantly, he could see that they weren’t just frigid know-it-alls, annoying smartasses who thought they were above everyone else. It was like the Dreadful’s might have knocked ‘em down a peg, this elitist group, and actually made it function more like a family.

           Cavon and Luvon did the same with the Clubhouse too, Liam could fondly remember. Walked right in and turned that shit upside down making people laugh who didn’t normally laugh. Everyone back home miss ‘em like hell. But Liam could see that they wouldn’t have to wait too long to be reunited with them. And meet some more Dreadful’s in the process. Liam’s grin the moment he realized what a force they’d be with bolstered numbers and if they were Dreadful’s, it’d be even better. He went to sleep on Sunday with that good feeling that carried well into Monday (and the fact that he helped with Dot’s bedtime routine), anxious to tell everyone back home the good news about moving.

Monday was the day he was supposed to be heading back to the Clubhouse but Vaughn skyped that morning as he was packing and they had a conversation whether it would be beneficial that he should try staying there the whole week… just to see if the Clubhouse could really integrate with the Families. Liam saw no problem with that—especially since there was a chance he could spend the day with Dot and ….”get to know her better.” If it really was his job to see how well they would integrate with the rest of the Family, Dot Dreadful would be the best bet… or at least, no one was going to tell Liam otherwise from what he stubbornly already believed. But who was he kidding? There was something about her that was pulling his attention to her in a dangerous way. He was constantly staring at her, it was reminiscent of the way he and Vaughn first met. And he certainly ignored Vaughn’s wide grin as he voiced his thoughts.

           “Aw, shut up! And make sure no one’s slackin’ over there!” he had told his husband before ending the call by slamming his laptop’s lid down. He could hear Vaughn’s laughter cut off but couldn’t help but smirk himself.

           It was his cousins who actually helped set up the day for him. He was going to stay by Dot’s side today, helping her with her work. He didn’t know what the hell went on in a Mortuary but that was why Dot was going to teach him. It was where he was now; it wasn’t quite early but it was early enough that Dot looked like she didn’t want to greet a single customer today. She had her coffee in a monochrome-spider theme thermos in one hand and was jamming her intricately detailed Mortuary key in a keyhole with the other. When she finally got the door unlocked, she kicked it open wide enough for both her and Liam to step inside. Tod was already minding the connected shop and she could hear some music faintly playing which was no doubt coming from one of his playlists.

           “Hey Toddles!” She called from Mortuary, standing at the front desk to drop off her purse and put down her coffee. She heard Tod reply and turned to Liam… without realizing he was shadowing her today. While she was acutely aware of his presence… because she felt his gaze never leave her… it messed with her concentration. Being too overly conscious of oneself does account for slip-ups and she felt so preoccupied with NOT messing up in front of him, that she kind of spaced that he was going to be helping her thus… she kind of forgot how close he had been standing. He was gazing around the Mortuary and made that comment, feeling the praise in his voice. He really did sound impressed and it made her all the more flustered. She nodded and watched him drink from his own coffee cup, eyes intently boring into hers. She turned her head and cleared her throat, hand absently reaching for her own cup… just to do something.

           “What do I need to do?” he asked. It wasn’t like he was trying to make things hard for her. It was more along the lines he was oblivious towards how he was making her feel. He was only human, after all, with a touch of psychic abilities that allowed him to mask his emotions and thoughts from prying eyes—and that was solely because of Ripley. He had not accounted or still did not realize that the Dreadful’s were “special” in their own way. If he was keeping himself guarded, it was only because he was used to doing it and Dot was having a hard time trying to read him, herself.

           “Nothing too strenuous!” she chirped, trying to brush off the fact that he made her nervous as all hell. But the lie was in the way her fingers trembled as they wrapped around the cool exterior of her thermos, and the way her eyes darted to avoid looking at him when she took a sip. It was a welcomed warm rush that filled her as she drank her coffee that it relaxed her shoulders and fill her with the confidence to take on the day. Or at least, try.

           “I’m actually meeting with clients today…” she muttered, suddenly remembering her booked schedule. It was perhaps bad planning and she had done it without really giving it much thought until she counted that she’d be seeing people all day, flipping through her calendar with a heavy sigh. She hadn’t been in the mood to take new clients all month and pushed all of those waiting people into this cursed day. ”I need a secretary…”

           “I know a good secretary… except he hates it when I call him that,” Liam chuckled.

           Dot looked up with a smile; her cheeks were tinted just the faintest color of red though she couldn’t understand why she was feeling so shy around him. It almost held her back from speaking but she stuttered her way through, “…I-Is it Malachai?”

           “If you remember that much about him, then I’ve been talking about him way too much.” Liam chuckled deeply, slightly teasing her.

           “W-Well, I would like to hear about everyone you work with.” She confessed, unable to help steer that curiosity away. She had been hearing stories for the past two days about whom her older brothers had been hanging around with during that strange in-between time when family was not quite family yet. She also heard a few stories from Felina when she had worked up the courage to ask about them. She had quickly learned that the Frenzy’s keep a detailed profiling system in their database computer—thanks to Gia’s design—that houses all of the people that work for them. That includes Family members and Family member’s businesses. She’s in the database too! Felina had pulled up her profile and showed it to her numerous times… especially since Family members (with the right clearance) can go in there and update information. Dot has had to ask Felina to erase comments about her all the time… mainly because her heart cannot handle what the Frenzy’s think of her. So, it was also easy enough to ask Felina to pull up profiles on people that seem to catch her eye… and nearly everyone has. She knew who the Rock and Rollers were but not enough about the business across from them. Felina was telling her that Vaughn (Liam’s husband, she made doubly sure to remember who that was) was sending the Rockers’ applications over for her to input into their database and had not gotten around to asking the Parlor for theirs…. Whatever that meant. She knew who the more influential members were by name and picture but not what they did or anything about their personalities. Felina finally gave up and allowed Dot to log into the Syndicate’s system with her login information whenever she wanted just to get acquainted with the Rockers from afar. While she learned a lot on paper, she still wanted more. And Liam was there now—but whew, buddy. It was one thing to be staring at a piece of paper with his date of birth and given name than staring at him face to face… his picture did not do him justice and his presence was incredibly scary. And to think, she hadn’t seen him “serious” yet.

           “That’ll take a long damn time,” Liam told her, looking deep in thought for a moment. “There are a lot of guys back home. I think it’ll be better for ‘em to come over and you can meet them yourself.”

           Well, Dot was not counting on doing that… well, she was but not… alone. As much as the Fatheads tease her like a little sister, they were still useful for some things. If Cavon and Luvon happened to go to the Clubhouse and stuff… well, she could just follow and if they say anything about it, she can tell them that Liam said it was okay.

           “I will definitely take you up on that,” she said which surprised her because she sounded a lot more confident than how she was feeling. Liam didn’t notice however, just seemed pleased that she wanted to visit and get to know them.

           “So when is your first appointment?”

           “Any minute now,” Dot groaned and placed a hand over her eyes because she was brought back into reality so fast, the room started to spin. Liam chuckled and she moved her hand to glance up at him.

           “Did ya want me to help with that, in any way?”

           Dot had the image of Liam sitting in all his leathers and that scary, intimidating and grouchy face of his behind the desk, staring a someone who had lost someone dear and was trying to put them to rest. She suddenly laughed.

           “Yeah, why not? Let’s see what happens.” She grinned because at the end of the day, she was still the boss. And she’d be able to kick someone out if they didn’t like the way that Liam provided service. Liam seemed reared up for it as well, looking a little too eager for what they did at the Mortuary.

           “Great. I offer great fuckin’ service with this killer smile,” he said, gesturing at his cheesy looking grin that didn’t quite look right on that scary looking face of his. But Dot thought it was entirely adorable, endearing really, and she giggled.

           “I’ll be sitting with you so you know what to do,” she told him while leading them into her office. Liam whistled again, impressed with how professional everything looked. Back home, the Clubhouse was the most casual fucking place… but then again, it was a fucking bar with a smelly fart shed in the backyard property. Dot had a ornately decorated but serious looking high-backed chair with the deepest of purple that matched the rest of her interior. It felt warm for being such a cold and scary place… to normies anyway. While Liam didn’t notice any of this, what he did notice was that Dot was serious business. Just as serious as he was with their business. He was just glad he wasn’t all greased up from working at the Chop Shop to sully her place. The chair he had noticed before, she was scooting it over and pulling a spare one out of the closet. When Liam looked confused, Dot smiled bashfully and explained.

           “Um, a lot of the Frenzy’s accompany me to work sometimes. So, I figured it would be best to get another chair so they can sit with me whenever we work together. Mainly for um, Celeste or Felina…” Dot trailed off because she didn’t want to admit that the other Frenzy’s made her sit in their laps. While that might not have been a problem usually, she saw that a lot of people that come in for appointments find it weird when she was sitting on someone’s lap… trying to talk to them about arrangements. Especially when some of those Frenzy’s look as intimidating as Alessio and don’t talk at all.

           Liam only nodded and when Dot sat down, Liam followed. He twisted around in his seat for a bit before stating, “These are the most comfortable seats I ever laid my ass on.”

           Dot laughed immediately.

           “Alright, I think I’m ready, lil sis. …That’s alright to call ya, right? Diesel said I should start off small as to not make you uncomfortable or some shit like that.”

           Dot tried her best not to grow too red in the face, rubbing her cheeks as she turned her face, pretending to get something out of her purse. “Y-Yeah! That’s perfectly fine!”

           “And you get to call me Big Brother, right?”

           Dot paused in “rummaging” only because she hadn’t expected him to realize that… unless he was told.

           “Diesel said.”

           …And so he had been told.

           “Um…yes.” Dot laughed nervously, “B-Big Brother.”

           “I think I like the sound of that.”

           Dot nodded, too red in the face now to pull herself away from her purse. At least, until she felt the heat gradually fade from her face, she revealed her calendar and placed it down. As she had thought, the next appointment was scheduled as soon as she had opened the doors to the Mortuary. Why the fuck did she schedule it this early? She must not have been paying attention…or she had been preoccupied because there was no way she would have done this to herself. Liam was already gaze down, following her little finger as she was reading.

           “So, what do I do? Just ask them what the fuck they want?”

           “Basically,” Dot laughed.

           “But be more business-like, right?”

           Dot nodded.

           “Okay, this should be a piece of cake. Chai tells us all the time to be on our best behavior so it’ll be somethin’ like that. What should I ask ‘em first?”

           Dot listened fondly as Liam spoke, smiling as he referred back to his brothers at the Clubhouse. It was a good thing her memory was like a vault; she could place a face to Malachai’s name and felt her tummy flip at whenever he was mentioned. But to answer Liam’s question, she began to coach him on how to greet the clients and more or less, deal with them.

           “And I’ll be right here, too! To help you out and take care of anything that goes wrong… not that I think it will go wrong! You caught on quick when we role played a little while ago,” she chirped, smiling with encouragement that Liam never really seen from anyone else but Vaughn before. As she spoke, he was staring and thinking; it didn’t take looks alone for Liam to be attached to Dot as he wasn’t attracted to women but the first thing he did notice was that she had something that made him stop and stare… to get to notice her, and that was when he took in her looks. Yet that was only the beginning. When he first entered that pizza parlor and stepped into that dumb little trap Felina had laid out for him, he never once in his life imagined it would have changed his life. Sure, Dot was attractive but what he really liked was her warmth and he got to experience what kind of person she was in just two days; was that crazy? Was that too fast? It might have been for some people but Liam lived a rough and fast life. He knew that it was a warmth like Vaughn’s and a sweet and caring personality that could rival Mother Teresa that made him pay attention to Dot; it was still too early to tell whether those emotions were something other than interest or lust, but Liam was a sucker for that Mama Bear mentality… hell, it was what Vaughn embodied sometimes. And it was like that, he was hooked to who was known as Dot Dreadful.

           Vaughn would be right, as always, that it would take a while to get to know whether the Clubhouse could merge seamlessly with the rest of the Family. Between the two families, at that. But he wondered if the real reason was so that Liam could get used to the idea of falling in love with someone that wasn’t another male… that wasn’t his husband. Love might have been too strong of a word for just two days but… there was definitely interest there and it was growing. Little sister did seem like a good place to start… but Liam would only realize that later on, it just wouldn’t be enough anymore.

[topsolarpanels]

Donnie Darko director Richard Kelly: ‘Sometimes films require time to marinate’

The director of the cult favorite Donnie Darko was once hailed as the next David Lynch. Now, as fans rediscover his 2007 flop Southland Tales, he explains why patience is still a virtue and Trumps victory was a grotesque inevitability

Talking with the writer and director Richard Kelly, its easy to steer the conversation toward the end of the world. After all, Kelly developed a fervent cult following( and alienated it) through narratives of prophesied apocalypse 2001 s cult curio Donnie Darko and 2007 s cult-classic-in-the-making Southland Tales. But its not the collapsing buildings or rivers of blood that fascinate Kelly; its what goes right before. The creeping anxiety. The normalizing of insanity. The casual disregard for your neighbor. The hunk in your throat that signifies your newfound understanding that this was inevitable.

If those feelings sounds familiar in our present Trump-addled dystopia, that was not Kellys intention. Southland Tales, a post-9/ 11 satire melded with a retelling of the Book of Revelation that also includes a complex theory of time travel, was never meant to feel like a pre-game show for the next decade of global misery.

The sprawling narrative set in an alternative 2008 in which a nuclear attack on Abilene, Texas, triggers a third world war revolves around an amnesiac action star named Boxer Santaros( played by Dwayne The Rock Johnson) who falls in love with a porn starring/ talkshow host/ entrepreneur/ pop star/ psychic who goes by the professional name Krysta Now( Sarah Michelle Gellar ), who has written a screenplay about the end times.

Oh, and theres also a government agency dedicated to spying on Americans, an underground neo-Marxist cult, alternative solutions energy source that might be ripping a pit in the space-time continuum, a United States military sponsored by Hustler and Bud Light, and a mind-altering medication that maintains American soldiers docile and dependent. Jon Lovitz plays a racist cop, Seann William Scott plays identical twin police officer, Amy Poehler shows up as an anarchist improv comic, Justin Timberlake plays a drug-addled war veteran and Wallace Shawn of The Princess Bride fame is the antichrist( or a reasonable facsimile ).

Its overwhelming to process, and reflects so much of the nervousnes of our age, even if it isnt always pleasant to watch. I genuinely wanted it to be something that you would get lost in and that would sustain multiple viewings, Kelly tells me over dinner in Los Angeles. When discussing the movie, his eyes widen and he projects an impish yet tentative enthusiasm as though hes feeling out whether youre going to receive his ideas without judgment. Now, that ambition can be a self-defeating prophecy, as we saw clearly.

Kelly seems wistful about the experience of making and releasing the cinema, which, after a disastrous Cannes screening at which the film was booed heavily, virtually lost theatrical distribution. We were in Boston, in pre-production on[ his Southland Tales follow-up] The Box, the weekend Southland Tales opened in 50 -some theaters. The upcoming Monday was our first day of principal photography. We were scrambling for our first day. We had done the AFI Fest premiere and they rushed me back to Boston. And then, I remember that morning, were shooting Cameron[ Diaz] and Frank Langella, that is something that emotional scene in the Boston Public Library. Someone comes up to me and tells me per-screen medians on Southland Tales. It was such a bummer. A screening Kelly attended with the actor James Marsden was attended by only four other people. Roger Ebert likened the movie to the third day of a pitching session on speed. One of the rare positive reviews of the film came from the New York Times critic Manohla Dargis, who called it funny, audacious, messy and feverishly inspired.

I definitely remain proud of the ambition of it. I feel like sometimes things just require time to marinade, he says. The cinema has started to find a new audience. At the time of our meeting, hes in between hosting screenings of Southland Tales thanks to a roadshow tour of the movie sponsored by the Alamo Drafthouse chain of arthouse theaters. The newfound appreciation for Southland Tales by both audiences and emerging pockets of critics hasnt yet translated to tangible opportunities for Kelly. I dont ever want to feel defeated or that Ive let the organizations of the system defeat me, he tells.

Sarah Michelle Gellar in Southland Tales. Photo: Publicity image from movie company

Southland Tales seeing an audience virtually 10 years later would not mark the first time one of Kellys cinemas gained esteem upon second( or third) glance. Donnie Darko grossed a scant $517,375 when it was released a month after 9/11. When it observed a huge audience on video and DVD, Kelly became a hot commodity, an heir apparent to the surrealist tradition of directors like David Lynch. Sometimes, the wind is at your back. Sometimes, its at your front, Kelly tells about the ups and downs of his career. Darko remains his greatest up, a cinema thats become a touchstone work for the generation that grew up with it. Darko was a disaster at Sundance too, he tells me. No one remembers that, but it was. Im grateful for any rosy light of hindsight. I remember it took us almost six months to sell the movie. It almost ran immediately to the Starz network. We had to beg them to set it in theaters. Christopher Nolan stepped in and convinced Newmarket to set it in theaters.

After those issues, Kelly could have gone the expected road and taken on a big-budget studio tentpole. He could have directed the sequel, which he declined to do( it aimed up being terrible and running straight-out to DVD ). Instead, he preferred this peculiar, dense narrative about the decline of American power.

President-elect Donald Trump was only a reality show curiosity when Southland Tales was released, but his mixture of profane and pious could easily have constructed him a character in the film. I think that Donald Trump is this grotesque inevitability that has get this far because there was something really, really dangerous hiding beneath the surface, that has been hiding beneath the surface for many, many years. The Republicans Kelly imagined in Southland Tales were the neocon religion zealots that seem nearly quaint to modern eyes. They seemed like the ultimate boogeymen in 2007, but as Kelly points out , no one in the Bush family would even show up at the RNC[ Republican national convention ].

What Southland Tales expressed better than most politically charged films of the Bush era was the sentiment that it would get worse, that something had been unleashed that could not be put back. At the time that we were making Southland Tales, it was Iraq war and Britney Spears. That dichotomy on your Tv screen. The branding and everything was happening. It seemed inevitable that all individuals would start to co-opt branding. Social media hadnt really explosion yet. To see politicians going after one another on Twitter, its bizarre. To consider Elizabeth Warren quoting the monorail on the Simpsons. To ensure legislators co-opting this millennial social media branding, its a blur of the lines.

Each of his three cinemas reflects that sheepish rebellion that is part of his personality. Donnie Darko was a mostly passive protagonist struggling against both the oppressive system of high school and the levers of fate that he could only pull at the films climax. Boxer Santaros is a pawn in a conflict between fascism and socialism, religion and science, and love and demise. Eventually, those characters succumb to a power greater than any on Ground, something unknowable. So does Kelly guess all this is down to higher power pulling the strings?

I dont suppose any of this happened by collision. Thats just depressing and absurd, in my opinion, he answers. I do think theres a design to things, and we can never hope to know it in any of our lifetimes. Portion of current challenges is trying to make sense of it. Thats whats cathartic for me as an artist, to try to make sense of it.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

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