#but alas. i will remain content admiring from afar

[sweet-beezus]

Edit: Somehow, my queue glitched and posted this earlier this week, so hopefully~ this works out-

Golly, another @khoc-week has come and gone, time sure flies when you're having fun-

Thank you for another AWESOME week full of such fun OCs!!! I love seeing everyone's creativity shine through their characters, it's like a small look into everyone's brains where we can admire the little worms living in there... in a good way!

Whether they're freshly hatched or well aged, these silly guys always bring me so much joy! :)

Genuinely, I wish I had the energy to interact with every single one of them, so instead I will blow them all a kiss from afar!!! ♥ ♥ ♥ They are what makes this week of the year truly special!

Beware, I will be lurking in tags ready to pounce on every OC I see after this is over I'm OBSESSED- (jk jk... unless?)

Onwards, then, to the final prompt of the year!!

Day 7 - Happily Ever After

Now, alas I've been following the canon timeline and filling in gaps with my own fun worldbuilding, characters and lore, so by all rights their stories are not gonna reach a happy ending for a WHILE (writing? who is she?), however the hypotheticals are always a good way to cope with that!

What their endings have reached so far while we're in lore hiatus (waiting endlessly for Missing Link and KH4... jk jk I hope they take their time tbh-) is that ideally after KH3, while everyone is looking for Sora, they're world jumping and clearing out remaining hoards of darkness together as a crew, alongside Reixen for more bonding time, in a variety of new places! They solve some mysteries surrounding their own personal character arcs and learn things about themselves they never considered, it's a real eye opener. Day 2 kinda hints at that with my picks of places I want them to go to fulfill that! At this rate, they may just be a series of oneshots...

Of course, it all eventually HAS to end, so here's some loose ends and how they may tie them up!

Iris:

Considering Iris ended up in the future, of course she has to cope with the reality that the worlds she knew are gone, or at least have yet to be restored (aside from Daybreak Town there's no repairing that-). Plus the existential crisis of having technically been dead AND given a new, puppet-esque body to inhabit. Lucky, she is, to even be here to begin with.

At the same time, she's helping Alto regain his memories from the same era they both managed to escape in some way. Being repeatedly reincarnated kinda screws some things up along the way, so it's a long haul process for the both of them to come to terms with.

Depending on what happens with the Scala ad Caelum plotline, they may both travel there, or to what's left of it, for closure, as well as to learn about the culture there to see what became of it after they were both long gone. Pay their respects to Alto's pal Ephemer and all that.

Her ending ideally is moving on and learning to live in a time she didn't anticipate seeing, which should be simple in theory since she's so young. She stays with Irene and Alto in Radiant Garden, and together with Alto they both take up lessons with Merlin and Yen Sid to learn more modern Keyblade skills, eventually (despite being Keyblade Master precursors) they are granted the titles of Master and help protect the universe.

♡♡♡

Irene:

She returns to her job, forever changed by her experiences, and helps her fellow castle staff move on and forgive themselves for the horrors they had to go through. It's a long haul process, but it will be worth it!

She finds herself a comfy living place in Radiant Garden to offer as a safe space for those she grew close to when they need it, where she essentially adopts Alto and Iris, since they don't really have a place to go that isn't rooming with a wizard or an on-the-road teenager. From time to time she also travels to Twilight Town to visit Reixen and her found family (maybe attending her polycule wedding at some point), but otherwise seems perfectly content staying put. Maybe the occasional visit from Iliana, as a treat. That doesn't require much aside from constant pestering, really.

While readapting to life a decade later than she's used to is a hassle in of itself, she seems to do it with grace, which is impressive considering she was presumed dead for said decade-

She also has that wonderful romance with Russell, as they deserve, and they both get to retire at some point knowing they have their chance to heal from all the suffering they experienced... and with more adopted kids than they know what to do with-

♡♡♡

Iliana:

What I envision for her is kind of complicated and long, so I'll try to keep it short-

Ideally, she gets to save her world once and for all while also getting rid of Igni, which almost costs her her life (nothing is allowed to be easy with Igni, as we've learned from Day 4-). So afterwards she's in recovery surrounded by the loved ones she gained along the way. For how long? Who's to say, miss ma'am will either be MIA or in a comatose sleep (jk jk... unless?) so it depends entirely on her and the awful side effects of Igni's possession tbh-

Chronically ill? With Igni goo disease? More likely than you think!

On the bright side, she finally gets to reunite with her brother in this timeline, though later than intended, and the two eventually take off on a journey of self discovery! Or they probably camp out with their uncle for a while before they do that, either way. They make up for lost time and get to grow together as people while also tying up a whole heap of loose ends their pasts left behind. A whole heap is nothing to sneeze at in this case-

In between, she makes time to check in on various allies as well as hang out with (her nerdy now bf) Ienzo. They have a funky long distance relationship because of her travels, so she surprises him with her presence when she can.

Maybe she gets an engineering degree, who knows? Certainly not me, at least not yet.

I like to think she eventually takes on apprentices or something and is probably the most annoying mentor known to the universe, especially if one of her apprentices is conveniently a secret younger sibling (I joke but... maybe-).

Nothing will be easy, of course some stupid new plot will pop up and she'll have even more nonsense to deal with, but that's a later issue to think about.

♡♡♡

And finally, they all get therapy ♥

They're doomed by the narrative to be absolutely demolished but can never truly die, so it's only fair they can live out somewhat happy and fulfilling lives despite every up and down I throw at them!

That's all I've got for this prompt, thank y'all for another wonderful KHOC Week and I will see y'all next year!!

Or in the tags, I'm always in the tags. :3c

[yandere-wishes]

Secret Admirer //Twisted Wonderland Yandere! Idia Shroud X Reader//

My first attempted at a song fic! This story is based off a Persian song called “Bade Man”. Both the song and Video show a lot of yandere tendencies so I decided to write two stories based off them. If you do decide to watch it please note that there is mention of suicide (Which I didn’t add in my own story) and stalker behavior (Which there is a lot of in this fic). Other then that please enjoy the story!

===========================================================

Idia's hand shook, sweat racing down his brow as he tried to accurately insert the miniature spy cam into the teddy bear's golden orb. Pushing the tiny device further in so it would remain anonymous. The little camera buzzed and glitched trying to come online and focus. 

Idia stretched his arm up trying to place the stuffed animal back on the top shelf where he had found it. Maneuvered it, checking the angle on his phone trying to find the perfect spot. Finally, at a position of 5 cm to the left, he had achieved the absolute angle, providing him with a view of your entire dorm room. The underworld god let out a sad sigh, he turned on his heels, habitually placing his fingers on his hips, digging his long chipped nails into the bulky fabric of his black sweater. Observing the room for a final time he gradually made his way to the door, mentally reminding himself to use the duplicate key to lock the door. Four steps from the door and he stopped, turning his head to look at something he'd spotted from the corner of his eye. There one shelf under where he'd set up the bear was a forgotten chocolate eyeball. His fingers twitched, trying to fight off the urges to grab it. You surely wouldn't notice if it was eaten, would you? You didn't have the most attentive mind nor the sharpest deduction skills. His long pale fingers slowly stretched to meet the sugary treat...

The blue screens were the only source of light in the pitch-black room. Their luminosity casted an eerie shadow over Idia's face. The flame-haired boy's eyes were glued to the screen, wait for you to return from your classes. He subconsciously reached for another piece of candy from the glass jar, mindlessly discarding the wrapper into the pile around his computers. He gazed at the time displayed on the corner of the screen. 

3:30 pm

classes finished fifteen minutes ago, so where were you? What was taking so long? No doubt those two Heartslabyul first years were keeping you busy once more. They were always circling you, always touching you in some form, they were like buzzards..worst actually. 

3:32 pm

you finally pried open the worn-out door to your so-called "dormitory"  walking inside, flinching each time you stepped on a creaky part of the floor. Behind the tiny cat-like terror skipped in. A large toothy grin danced across his furry face. He was going on about the A+ he'd gotten in the Alchemy test.

For a brief minute Idia's mind wondered to that very test, he was sure he had taken it. He sighed, the school was so troublesome and distracting, he'd just ask Ortho to retrieve his test later on. 

His attention floated back to you, his darling, his beloved...who he would continue to admire from afar. You carelessly discarded your school backpack and uniform coat onto the broken couch and headed for the kitchen. Idia leaned closer eyes soaking in every microscopic aspect of your body. Giggling slightly as he watched you peer into the fridge, hanging off the handle of the door and pouting at the lack of content in the fridge. Without looking he plucked his phone from the table and typed a reminder to get Ortho to buy you some groceries. 

You finally picked two eggs and some olive oil. Casually making your way to the stove, calling over your shoulder for Grim to set the table. You grabbed the lighter form the island and flicked it, trying to start a flame. 

Idia tensed, his eyes grew as big as the Heartslabyul mushroom saucers. He remembers passing by the kitchen, he remembers sparks from his hair landing on the stove. Initially, he'd disregarded them, believing they would become completely dormant by the next day. He hadn't thought that you would be making dinner. His heart skipped a beat, the tiny embers were sitting there,  ready to ignite at the smallest heat. 

His fingers frantically tapped at one of the screens, calling yourself hoping it would be a worthy distraction. His heart sank as he watched the dreaded cat pick up your cellphone. He ignored it pressing the hang-up option. 

His golden eyes flew back to the screen displaying your actions. He nervously shoved another two bonbons into his mouth. He ran a hand over his face, sighing trying to come up with something to do before his precious caught on fire. 

"Think, Think, Think, Think," his pale finger stabbed his forehead, do something! his thoughts screamed. Apahthcaly he cracked open an eye. He watched uselessly as you brought the lighter to the oven. 

There was a spark, blue flames spread along the surface of the oven like waves. You squealed and jumped back eyes gawking at the flames. They were familiar somehow...

"What happened!" 

The cat's screechy voice caused Idia to flinch, subconsciously his hand dove back into the bowl pulling out a handful of the wrapped goodies. 

The look on your face was one that tore Idia's heart into pieces, yet at the same time caused it to speed up tremendously. You hadn't moved an inch, eyes still wide and gawking at where the fire had been minutes ago. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, breaths shaky and uneven. "T-the ghosts m-might be...playing some pranks again, yeah that's it! It was those ghosts!.... Ah!..(y-y/n) what.. what are..." Grim's voice trailed off, his gem-like eyes darted to (Y/N) after witnessing her sudden movement. She chucked the lighter at the stove, her hands balling into tight fists. She closed her eyes permitting tiny teardrops to race down her cheeks. 

"Can't I do any freaking thing right?" This was loudest Idia had ever heard (Y/N) raise her voice, though reasonably this was the angriest he'd ever seen her. Why was she so irritated over a small slip up? Was there something else weighing on your nervous that Idia had failed to notice? His golden eyes went back to monitoring your posture, recalling if you'd seemed off the couple of times he'd seen you in class or the hallways. His mind kept drawing blanks, you were always so cheerful and happy every time he laid eyes on you. Was there some subtle hint he was missing? Where you maybe as cursed as he was? The thought was unsettling and quite heavy on his broken heart. You didn't deserve to be cursed as he and his lineage where, you were too innocent, too pure...but alas you may very well be cursed just as he was, after all, you had the misfortune of traversing into this accursed world in addition to having caught his eye. 

After what felt like decades, your posture finally eased, the sniffling and flow of tears halted. You rose your head looking down at Grimm, a frail smile grazed your lips. "There's tuna in the fridge if you're hungry...." saying no more, you turned on your heels and trudged towards the doorless doorframe. "But, aren't you hungry?" the cat called after your concern laced his usually haughty voice. Idia could feel a nervous tik coming on, a cold wet substance fill is eyeball as it twitched uncontrollably. "Eat something dame it" he whispered to the girl on the screen. Taking his own advice he unwrapped another piece of candy and popped it in his mouth. He watched helplessly as you merely shook your head, continuing to march upstairs. Floorboards creaking from your weight. 

Idia threw his back, palms pushing over his cheeks, resing on his closed eyelids and applying apathetic pressure. He groaned loudly, watching you was consuming more time then he'd initially planned. The cameras where set so he could keep tabs on you, not to watch your disheartening days in the ramshackle dorm. Yet it proved to become an addiction rapidly. It was remarkably melancholic, the two of you were both leading your respective blighted lives waiting impatiently for some inconceivable miracle to rescue you. You could save eachother...but nither of you knew how. Thus you remain oblivious to his presence and he had to content himself with observing you from afar. This whole situation was much more tragic than anyone of the Greek tragedies he's read as a child.

By now, the sun had dipped behind the large school, disappearing from view for the night. Idia's once dark room had fallen into the color of the abyss engulfing him in endless darkness. However that notion seemed to escape the fire-haired third year as he remains immobile at his desk, orbs stilled glued to the blindingly bright lights of the multiple screens displaying different angles of the Ramshackle dorm. The object of his infatuation was changing out of their uniform tossing the blouse and skirt onto the bed as the grabbed an oversized T-shirt and some pajama shorts. Their footsteps echoed around the vacant room as they walked up to the shelf. Idia gulped fingers diligently shoving two tiny chocolates into his mouth. He watched as you reached up to grab the stuffed bear. Idia's sweaty palms covered his mouth, nails digging into the flesh of his cheek. He watched as you dropped the bear and let out a blood-curdling scream...

You missed your home, your real home. You missed the nostalgic scent of your mother's perfume and your father's aftershave. Lately, the thought of your home had become a crushing force on your mind. You wanted nothing more than to head back home, then to sleep on your old bed, talk to your old friends, to just bask in the feeling of your old house. But Crowley still hadn't found a way for you to return. The headmaster did try but with the constant troubles caused by the other students, he just couldn't focus. Letting out a depressed sigh you walked over to the decaying shelf in the further corner of your room. On top of that shelf sat an old Teddy Bear, it resembled one you had back home. Who would have ever thought you'd find the very same toy in this twisted world. Retrieving the stuffed animal from the shelf, you smiled at its stoic face, playfully you moved it around watching your reflection from different angles in its golden eyes. As the right eye remains in place, the left eye kept seemingly following you, curiously you tapped the eye. The golden ord whizzed stretching out while spinning trying to get a better look at your face. A camera! There was a camera placed in the bear's eye! You dropped the stuffy, shakingly stepping away from the spying bear. A loud high pitch noise echoed in your ears, making your heartthrob. It took an endless moment before you realized that it was, in fact, yourself who was making the dreadful noise. Your hands covered your mouth trying to stop the sound, you gulped as your eyes filled with tears. 

You back hit the wall, having nowhere else to go you sunk down wrapping your arms around your shins, goosebumps ran across your skin, spiking your flesh causing a cold sweat to break over your body.  Someone was watching you...Someone had been watching for god knows how long.

"(Y/N)!" Grimm's panicked voice barely reached your ringing ears. You remained curled in your tight ball. The cat-like monster ran over to you, pawing at your arm trying to get you to talk. "What happened? Why did you scream!" His pitchfork like tail wrapped around his tiny body. Hesitantly you pointed to the tumbled over bear. Your voice cracked as you tired to speak "C-camera...there's a camera in the b-bear's e-eye." Grimm's eyes widen as he ran over to the spycam to investigate. 

Idia watched as the tiny cat hoisted up the bear, clawing at the eye camera. The blue screens glitched for a second, the went back to broadcasting the room. Idia turned the deal on one of his speakers trying to better hear what Grimm was whispering to you. "Someone was in the house" the cat mumbled into your ear. "I had candy on the third shelf and now only the wrappers are left". The cat's words only caused you to sob harder, your mind being overtaken by panic to such extents that you could hardly move. The grey monster shook your numb hand trying to get a reaction out of you. "We...we need to call the headmaster..." at Grimm's words you banged your head against the wall, fresh tears flowing from your eyes. Slowly you nodded, "On the count of three, run like all hell for the front door...we don't know if there are any other cameras, it'll..it..it'll just be safer to go to his office.."  Using the wall for support you stood up, eyes never once leaving the bear. You took a final shakey breath...

"one.."

Idia's eyes widen, you weren't serious where you?

"Two.."

A lone tear rolled from his eye...no please no

"Three!"

Idia watched helplessly as you and Grimm ran down the stairs, disappearing out the front door.  

 Nervously Idia turned off the screens. His heart pounded so hard that he was sure it would crack his rips and burst right out. He had lost you...he had tried to keep an eye on you, to be with you in the only way he knew how..and that had caused you to run away...Anger bubbled in his veins, his fingers twitched as he stood up "DAME IT" his voice sounded throughout the Ignihyde dorm, causing the rest of the students to stop whatever they were doing and listen to the rare sound coming from their dorm leaders room. 

Sinking down to the floor, Idia let the tears roll out from his eyes, his throat burned as he let out another frantic scream. How could he have been so stupid? So useless?

"Big brother?" Ortho's curious voice caused Idia to cease his screaming, reluctantly he turned his head to look at his little brother. Ortho walked over to him, kneeling down in front of him. His large golden eyes scanned the turned over chair and broken candy jar. "I-I lost her..." Idia's voice trailed off as he leaned his head on Ortho's metal shoulder. His posture sunk into his brother's cold hands. "I-I" his tears kept coming, trailing down his cheeks. Calmly Ortho wiped the teardrops from his creator's face. Bloodshot golden eyes met sympathetic golden eyes. "Big brother...why do you do this to yourself? If you really love her you should go see her in person.."

The younger Shroud's words tugged on his brother's heartstrings. The cursed older brother reluctantly pressed his face to his creations chest and mumbled: "I...I really should".

In the unholy hour of midnight, Idia found himself, leaning against a tree in the Ramshackle front yard. His golden eyes watched as his darling frantically tried to explain to the mask-wearing headmaster what had happened hours prior. His shaky legs dragged the God of the dead to a tombstone that was closer to the window. Crunching by the marker Idia lolled in the sound of his beloved's voice. Silently he whispered a promise to himself.

"One day I will make you mine my love...one day very soon"

[marinette-sky]

Incantation of the Heart

A/N: Hey guys! Its been awhile since I have posted any sort of writing or fanfiction here! I finally finished the first part to this ML magic au, and man let me tell you...this took forEVER! I got stuck on writing about clothing! Can you believe it?? But yeah, hope yall enjoy this!  (also, my ao3 is pamplemousses so check me out if you like what you read <3)

Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a village mage who had made a comfortable life with her magic shop, ‘Ladybug’s Spells and Potions’. However, her fairly repetitive life was thrown into a tumult when Adrien Agreste, also known as Adrien the Enchanter, abruptly settled in her village one sunny morning. 

And he just so happened to be her new neighbor and rival vendor. 

Now, Marinette was never very fond of change, but by the will of the gods if she was not overwhelmingly enamored with this one. 

Word Count: 3,519

Rating: M (well, right now, its a cool T/G rating, but future content will be M)

Marinette had been tending to her garden that sun-drenched afternoon when the Change occurred.

The entire day leading up to that exact moment in time had been pleasantly uniform---which is how she preferred it to be. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had woken up promptly before sunrise to prepare various brews and elixirs for impending customers, which took her exactly until the first rays of light seeped through the cottage windows. After a minimalistic breakfast of rosemary tea and blackberry scones, the mage busied herself with dusting the wall of grimoires taking up residence on one side of the shop.

As soon as that was done, she took to the task of arranging the herbs she laid out the night before into their designated parcels to place neatly in the vacant spots of their shelves. When she finally settled behind the shop counter, steady streams of clients were waiting for her.

Not to say that there was not the occasional hiccup in her otherwise repetitive lifestyle, because there definitely were. Still, this bump in her day-to-day schedule was of no ordinary caliber. Oh, no.

The change just so happened to be Adrien Agreste, notoriously known as Adrien the Enchanter.

And he just so happened to be her new neighbor and rival vendor.

Now, Marinette was never very fond of change, but by the will of the gods if she was not overwhelmingly enamored with this one.

Adrien stood across the gravel road in front of the now-sold establishment, surrounded by moving crates and helpers. Although it was a fairly warm fall day, he looked sophisticated in a cinched black waistcoat and tightly-fitted slacks, his white button-up rolled above his elbows. His hair stopped midway down his neck, and the way the sun caught on his honey-blonde locks made out as if he were wearing a halo.

Even from afar, and only viewing the back of his being, Adrien was evidently well-built like the gods harvested him from the Garden with the perfect bolline. It felt as if she was gazing upon the male incarnation of Aphrodite and his crown of falling stars.

And if she stared too long, Marinette knew the god before her would turn around and reveal his true, glittering form and steal her vision away.

Suddenly breathless at her own spinning thoughts, Marinette ripped her gaze away from the male and instead focused on the bolline she had been previously putting to use by digging little pockets in the dirt for her wolfsbane seeds. Wolfsbane only germinates in riposte to fresh snowmelt, which is why it’s best to plant them in the early fall so that when winter comes they will have had long enough to ruminate. The budding herb was particularly popular with her customers for its antidotal effects on many poisons and the curse of lycanthropy. Because the seed placement is such a tedious process, it is crucial for Marinette to pay special attention when she sows them.

She would simply have to introduce herself later.

Determined, the mage worked fervently to finish the task she had started, trying her hardest not to think about Adrien. Minutes passed fairly quickly when she got into the groove of things and a good half hour went by before the last seed was bedded and sprinkled with specially iced water. Marinette beamed with pride at her handiwork, settling back on her knees to admire the yard. On each side of the stone path that lead directly to the shop entrance lay her numerous gardening plots that extended until the divider from the shop next-door stopped them. Every plot was nicely aligned and labeled so that customers could peruse for specific ingredients with little difficulty.

Sighing in content, Marinette let her stare wander across the way where all the excitement had been earlier. All the moving crates had disappeared from the street and the helpers were nowhere to be seen. In fact, only Adrien himself remained…and was he looking at her?

With a jolt, she realized he was indeed peering at her with an expression she could not pin down from a distance. Like a firefly in a mason jar, she panicked and considered her possible routes of escape.

Alas, too little too late.

Now he was waving good naturedly at her, flashing a charming smile that could make any glacier melt from its warmth. Marinette refrained from swooning.

Now he was walking (or rather, striding) over the gravel road to greet her from where she was kneeled in her garden. Why couldn’t he have caught her in something more appealing than a dirty pinafore?

And now he was standing a breaths-width away from her, shadowed by the sun and hand extended for her to take graciously. Marinette could scarcely move for a few dizzying moments before coming to her senses and accepting his out-stretched appendage.  

“T-Thank you.” Marinette managed to mumble, hyper aware of how firm and balmy his grasp was. Though they had only just met, he was squeezing her hand like they were long-time friends.

Adrien just nodded courteously and revealed another blinding smile.

“Think nothing of it! I’m Adrien Agreste, the new charms merchant around here. Despite what the name of my shop says, I can assure you that it is only a sobriquet.” Marinette spared a glance to the sign above his shop, which read ‘Chat Noir’s Charms and Hexes’. The names itself piqued curiosity in the mage, but she decided to hold her tongue until they got introductions out of the way.

Besides being popular for the title Adrien the Enchanter and his skills, he was also quite known for being a restless spirit. Adrien moved from village to village, opening up shops under different names and leaving under no discernable circumstances. His father, Gabriel Agreste, was an extremely gifted warlock in the occult world with very deep pockets; it was assumed that’s where he got the resources and funding to hop from place to place with no debts to pay.

“O-Oh, uh, I already know who you are, since you’re kind of well-known in the occult world…” Marinette cringed at the comment and cleared her throat. “A-Anyways, my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I’m the owner of ‘Ladybug’s Spells and Potions’.” She gestured vaguely to their surroundings, smiling to soothe the stiffness of her manner.  

“Lovely to be in your company, Marinette.” Adrien replied without missing a beat, much to her relief. He let the pleasantries hang in the air between them as he took a moment to look around. His eyes seemed to sparkle when he restored eye contact with her again. It made her heart skitter in her chest.

“Are you a witch, by chance?” He suddenly burst, leaning forward ever so slightly. This made Marinette grimace and look away.

The pedestal she had put Adrien on shrunk.

Witch.

The very term was borne from the slew of bad apples that plagued their history as magic users, as mages. To her kind, ‘witch’ intoned to the forbidden practice of dark arts and blood rituals as a way of getting tasks or jobs done. Although she had delved little interest in the history, to dabble in forsaken magic was implicit to entering Lucifer’s den. Once a mage sought out the Devils’ shadow magic, the natural power coursing through their veins became irreversibly tainted, much like a poison apple.  

But, as the old proverb proves, ‘one bad apple spoils the barrel’.

During the dark ages, witchery became popular and numerous covens were formed, forever tarnishing their kins’ reputation. Hell, Marinette had ancestors that were active participants and leaders of these covens. Disturbingly, Marinette had heard hushed whispers from her own parents about her grandmother being a savant in witchery—

She did not wish to further ponder the matter.

Marinette let out a tired sigh.

“Adrien, I know you did not mean any harm by it, but please do not refer to me as ‘witch’. I’m a mage.” She informed him seriously, and then added, “Actually, around here, I’m referred to as Marinette the Mage.”

Upon hearing this, Adrien’s face crumpled like dead leaves in the autumn breeze, smile drooping to an ashamed frown. What little skin he was showing paled, and color rushed to his cheeks.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you, and on our very first meeting!” He hurried to amend his mistake, holding up his hands apologetically. “Please don’t think badly of me, it was my mistake!”

Adrien was so distressed that Marinette felt a twinge of regret in her heart. Just a twinge, though.

“It’s, uh, quite alright Adrien. Really, you didn’t know.” She soothed awkwardly, combing her hands through one of her pig-tails to keep her fidget-y hands busy.

“Are you sure? I just grew so excited; it has been far too long since I have made the acquaintance of someone of your kin.” Adrien gave her a nervous stare, lips parting as he leaned inwards. “As you know, magic users have become less and less of a common phenomenon from the lack of…breeding.”

Oh, gods.  

Momentarily strung by this, she mutely nodded.

He wasn’t wrong, seeing as many magic users become so caught up in their own powers they essentially wither into ill-socialized hermits, refusing to marry in fear of having to pass on any of their hoarded knowledge of magic to a heir.

“Y-Yes, I’m just surprised you forgot calling someone like me a ‘witch’ was offensive.” She giggled in good humor to assuage his discomfort. “Ah, perchance could be you’re too—”

Marinette caught herself before she could finish with ‘sheltered’. Gods, that was close. She would rather be stripped of her powers than ever say something so bold to his face, and in such a casually brazen manner too.

Adrien, jumping at the distraction, slanted his eyes curiously at her. A small smile dangled from his lips, but it was vastly different from the polite one he wore when he first greeted her. He couldn’t know, right? Marinette felt very warm all of a sudden.

“Too what?” Adrien asked coyly, cocking his head to the side in the most natural way possible. He gazed at her from beneath his eye lashes, batting them innocently.

Marinette had a sinking feeling that he knew what she alluded to.

Could enchanters gift themselves the power of telepathy?

Oh, gods, she was finished.  

“N-Nothing, forget it! I should probably take my leave, midday rush is about to start.” Her face flamed despite the chilly wind that gusted against them with impressive bravado. Adrien let out a short, harmonious laugh that Marinette knew would ring in her head the rest of the day.

“On that note, I should get back to my shop. I promised an old friend he could visit, maybe you know him?”

“Oh? Mayhap I do.” Marinette amiably replied, glancing at the sundial that lay nearby. They were really cutting it close.

Then again, Adrien Agreste was worth the fuss.

Adrien grinned devilishly. “Well, I guess I’ll have to invite you over next time he visits for you to find out. Bring a friend, too. I would love to get to know you more...”

He half turned away, and breathed her name like it was the most charming thing to have uttered at that moment, “…Marinette.”

And with that Adrien whisked himself from her sight like magic, leaving Marinette in a state of utter and total disarray.

No wonder he donned the title Adrien the Enchanter, because he had already cast an enchantment on her heart.

 Two weeks puttered by without incident and the Autumnal Equinox was almost upon Yoke Elm Village, much to the excitement of Marinette. The autumnal equinox was essentially the first day of fall, which was a big deal to the supernatural and superstitious residents of the village. To celebrate the ushering of a new season, a festival was being held in the town square that evening.

“Alya, hand me another bowl, I’m about finished with this one.” Marinette said as she grinded her incense mix of marigold, passionflower, and fern into the mortar. This was the last batch of ceremonial incense she needed to complete before they could pack all the sets onto her cart to sell before the festival began at sundown. Marinette had been handpicked to be a vendor for the special occasion, having been given the honor to make the traditional incense that would lighted for the sacred ritual that evening.

Unfortunately, Adrien had also been chosen to contribute to the festive event, being given the task of supplying harvest charms to all the farmers and horticulturists as part of the ritual.

In those two weeks of preparation for the event, both Marinette and Adrien had not seen hide or tail of each other (except for their run-in at their local sundry market, which is how they found out why the other had been so preoccupied).

It frustrated Marinette to no end.

It also frustrated Marinette to know that her close circle of friends was getting to know Adrien better during this time period without her.

Though, that was all by chance, of course.

Marinette met with Alya that same day and chattered happily about her intense infatuation with Adrien Agreste. Alya, excited and mystified by her best friend’s abrupt obsession with Adrien, hung onto to every detail. In fact, Alya went out of her way to meet Adrien after their talk. She caught him right as he was about to leave for a rendezvous with an “old pal from his adolescent years”, who turned out to be Alya’s boyfriend of two years running, Nino Lahiffe.

They all got along splendidly, from Alya’s recounting of their outings.

Pushing the thoughts from her head, the female sighed deeply and held out her hand for the next bowl.

“Mari, there are no more bowls to hand you.” Alya waved to the empty counter before them, “We’re done.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at her friend’s plural suggestion.

“Pardon me, I mean you’re done.” Alya tossed her auburn hair behind her shoulder dramatically and carefully pushed off of the bench they were both occupying to avoid snagging her cape.

Alya had already donned her festival wear before venturing to Marinette’s cottage. She fronted a shimmery tan cape gown and a long, thin black cape tied around her shoulders. The tan fabric was layered with black lace from neck to floor, a small slit going up each side of the dress. A black corset belt sat snugly at her waistline, nearly hidden from view by the smooth tulle cloak that encased her figure. To top it all off, Alya had chosen to wear elbow-length gloves that matched indiscriminately with the corset belt.

Needless to say, she was alluring enough to earn the blessing of any grove faerie and harvest god that gazed upon her that evening.

“That’s what I thought.” Marinette let out an entertained laugh as she stood up to remove her work apron, feeling accomplished and relieved that the hard part of her work was done. All she had to do now was transfer all the incense to her cart and book it down to the festival.

Marinette and Alya quickly gathered up all the incense in their baskets and exited the mage’s work shed, which was located behind her shop. The work shed was usually where Marinette tinkered with her magic; inside, she had a work bench, a mixing cauldron, and a three tier shelf that contained all her most prized and precious spellbooks. Additionally, it was where she stored her market stall cart, but that had already been prepped with decorations and moved to the foyer of her home.

The duo entered the shop through the back entrance and hastily loaded all the incense onto the cart. With Alya’s help, the task was finished with plenty of time to spare. While Marinette was busy re-adjusting a frilly bow tied to the bar of the dolly, Alya pounced on her with unexpected vigor.

“What in the--” Marinette yelped, finding herself being steered by strong arms.

“Marinette, we need to get you ready!” Alya cooed as she forced her away from the foyer and towards the stairway on the other side of the shop. “You want to look good for your darling Adrien, right?”

“Erm, well—I wouldn’t call him that, but yes—,” The mage stuttered, affronted by the affectionate nickname.

“That’s what I assumed. Now, cease your henpecking ‘round the incense and go get dressed!” Alya did an impression of a crotchety woman, which caused Marinette to giggle. Alya took this as an opportunity spin her in the direction of her room, successfully tearing her away from the cart.

When the mage began to protest more, she winked playfully, revealing the coal powder dusted on her eyelids, “I’ll look after everything else while you’re away!”

“But—”

“No arguing! Come, come!”

Marinette pursed her lips in resignation as she was hustled up the stairs, the sudden activity causing the picture frames on the wall to tremble as they passed. Thankfully, none of the frames tumbled from their perches by the time Marinette reached the threshold of her bedroom, which was a wooden trapdoor embedded in the ceiling. Magical sigmas had been carved all around the frame of the door, meant to ward off any evil spirits and ill-intending creatures that bumped in the night while Marinette was slumbering.

At least, that was what Marinette told people.

She smiled to herself at the thought as she vanished into the ceiling, the trapdoor rattling as it sunk back into the frame.

 Less than half and hour went by before Marinette finally emerged from her chambers, taking great care not to snag her dress on any of the splintered wood railing as she descended the steps to her foyer. Once she reached the bottom, she practically flew into the adjoining room where Alya was, eager to show off her newest hand-crafted creation.

Alya looked her up and down, whistling appreciatively.

Marinette had decided to match the theme of her gown to the theme of the festival, hence her look being less revealing and more accurate to the history of the event. She had taken an A-line chemise and sewn it to a black, calf-length skirt to establish the dress silhouette. After a bit of needle magic, she turned the skirt into jumpskirt and proceeded to add tulle underneath the body of the gown to fluff it up (for extra measure, she added a silk lining under the tulle to keep it uniform). Marinette then embroidered an elaborate pattern of falling leaves onto the skirt, using magic thread to make the leaves change colors periodically. For the chemise top, she spelled the plain white color to shimmer under moonlight and made the shoulder-sleeves sheer. She also sewed a strip of lacy ruffles along the front buttons and along the collar, making the color outline of the ruffles a gradient of reds, oranges, greens, and browns. As a final touch, Marinette donned an underbust corset to complete the look. In addition, she wore black stockings and lace-up boots.

“What do you think? This one took me ages to finish, even with a bit of magic.” Marinette did a little twirl, lifting the skirt up in a mock curtsy. This made Alya giggle.

“It looks incredible! You look incredible! I just know Adrien will think so, too.” Alya circled Marinette, absently caressing the dress fabric in admiration. It really was an intricate gown, with all the patterns and magic done on fabric.

They both chatted excitedly about the dress for a minute or two more before deciding it was time to leave for the festival. Marinette and Alya hustled the cart out of the cottage door with little difficulty, although there was a bit of a fuss when Alya stubbed her toe on a cobblestone and cursed loud enough for passing festival-goers to throw them annoyed glances. Nonetheless, they both pushed the cart out onto the main road and began their trek towards the townsquare.

Before Marinette could completely leave, she remembered she had not closed up the shop. She rushed back to the cottage, telling Alya to continue on without her. Once she was well up the road and out of earshot, Marinette ducked herself back inside and called out to the shadows.

“Tikki! You can come out now, we have to go!”

A red blur darted out from the stairs and zipped right into her awaiting palm. Tikki yawned and stretched out her arm-like appendages, smiling sweetly up at her as Marinette tucked her into the pocket of the gown. As she was leaving, she swiped the black cloak hanging on the coat hook by the door. It had little embroidered ladybugs lining the edges of the cape and hood, as well as a gold clasp. The mage donned the cloak and swept outside, locking the door as she went.

Marinette fumbled in the midst of her rush to meet Alya, her mind on the weight in her pocket.

Ah, yes. Tikki was a secret she would take to the grave.

[fuctacles]

Capturing Adventure (BakuKami Week 2018 Day 2)

December 3rd [Day 2]: Mermaid/Pirate AU | “Don’t you fuckin’ dare” | Injury

Ship: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki | Rating: let’s say G | Wordcount: 1821

Read on AO3

“What with the costume?” Bakugou felt someone slide next to him and breathe in his direction but didn’t acknowledge the intruder. He sipped from his bottle, waiting for the dude to get the message and leave. Alas, he prodded further. “Hello? I’d like to know where I can get myself such a fine garment.”

A sensation of fingers caressing his loose sleeve made Bakugou react at last. In the blink of an eye, he had a knife pointed at the intruder who instantly pulled away, although didn’t seem really fazed by the blade pointed at him. Katsuki figured with this attitude he had knives pointed at him a lot.

“I stole it,” he rasped out. He stuck the knife in the table between them, eyeing his unwanted company threateningly.

The company leaned back in but kept the distance.

“Oh? Isn’t that a crime?” the man raised his eyebrow, smirking. That made Bakugou lean into his personal space with threatening, overwhelming presence. That must have been a first for the stranger because he finally seemed to start questioning his life choices.

“Are you threatening me? You’re a fucking pickpocketer yourself,” he hissed and grabbed his arm, pushing up his sleeve to retrieve a coin from there and put it back in his pouch. When he straightened he expected the exposed thief to flee but he was still there proudly puffing his chest.

“Excuse you, but I’m not a cheap pickpocketer. I’d rather call it,” he waved his hand, “a hobby, you’d say? Or a way of checking one’s dispositions,” he smiled charmingly, but it had an undertone that told Bakugou not to trust him.

“Dispositions?” Bakugou found his mouth moving despite himself. The stranger had the kind of aura around him that made him want to know more.

“Why yes, I’m hiring! Aren’t you here to taste the adventure yourself?” he asked, leaning in by putting his chin on his fist.

Bakugou was. But he hoped he wasn’t that obvious. He came to the shady tavern to escape his boring life, the pampering, the praises and the gifts, all seasoned with whispers behind his back. He wanted to flip them all off and taste what being feared, respected and admired felt like. That was impossible in the stiff society he was living in so far. He squared his shoulders.

“How do you know I’m not here to hire someone myself?” he asked with confidence accented with a sip of his drink. The smile he got in return rubbed him in the wrong way but he knew he had to keep his cool. For now.

“Boy, I can tell someone who hadn’t had an ounce of fun in their life from afar. I’ve spent half of my life on a ship sailing the world; I know how an adventurer looks like.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth. He hated the tone he was treated with. And boy? He looked the stranger upside down. He was dressed similarly to Katsuki, but his clothes looked more worn and tattered, dirty even. His skin was sunburnt and covered with small scars. He had gold earrings and few signets. Next to him laid a feathered tricorne hat. His appearance and the look in his eyes aged him but he couldn’t have been older than Bakugou. How dare he look down on him? He gulped down some more of his drink. He was glad for the alcohol in his system; otherwise he wouldn’t be able to take all of this so calmly.

“So you’re hiring for a ship?” he asked to keep himself occupied. Even if he didn’t want to work with the douche it was good to gather some information.

The stranger smiled at his interest.

“Not just a ship. A pirate ship,” he stage whispered. Getting the reaction he wanted – eyes widened in surprise – he offered his hand. “Captain Chargebolt, it’s nice to meet you.”

Bakugou didn’t take his hand. He looked at his smiling face in confusion, and then burst into a husky, barked laugh. The captain put his hand down, frowning.

“What’s so funny?”

Bakugou have heard stories about Chargebolt, the gruesome pirate who sunk one of the biggest ships of the Queen’s fleet. Who spread his bad fame throughout all the seas and lands. He saw the bounty posters in many port towns, each with more horrifying face than the previous one. And none of them looked like a young man with smooth face, blond hair and a soft spot for nice clothes.

“You don’t even look like a pirate, and you go around titling yourself like that?” he leaned back, looking at him with amusement. “You shouldn’t be so loud, what if the real Chargebolt hears about it?” he chuckled, visibly enjoying having back the upper hand and a victim to make fun of.

The so-called captain, on the other hand, went silent. He looked calmly at the man in front of him and it took Katsuki a longer while to notice something was off and drop the smile off his face. He frowned at the calm anger the pirate was emanating. Before he could say anything, the man stood up, slamming his fist on the table. The smile he gave him was completely lacking of mirth.

“Oh, you saw through me. Such a clever boy.” His mocking tone made Bakugou’s blood grow hot, but he stayed in place, because he knew he was right. There was no way the man was a pirate captain. Let alone the one he was claiming to be.

The adventurer opened his fist, thus throwing some coins on the table. “Have a drink on me as a prize,” he said patting him on the shoulder. “See you around.” He left the tavern followed by squinted red eyes.

*

In retrospect, Katsuki should have known better than to buy so many drinks for money he was given by a stranger. The walk to the closeby inn he rented a room in wasn’t that hard, but he barely had the time to kick down his shoes and put down the hat the stranger left behind, before he saw a flurry of yellow followed by an unpleasant zap and then the darkness engulfed him.

Now he was lying surrounded by soft, fluffy pillows. Opening his eyes to a dim light awakened a throbbing headache that made him groan and push his face back into the pillow. He heard a rustle somewhere close to him.

“Are you awake?” came a quiet, unfamiliar voice. He remained silent but the stranger followed with another question anyway. “Do you want some water?”

Water sounded good to his dry tongue so he grunted in response and slowly turned around, lifting himself on his elbows. He blinked a few times to clear his vision.

In front of him was a muscular man with wide shoulders and a tan. His bandana-tied hair was obnoxiously red and his smile consisted of threateningly sharp teeth. He was holding a wooden cup that Katsuki accepted, sniffed and took a tentative sip before deciding it was plain water and chugging down the whole cup. The stranger smiled at him, showing off his fangs.

“I’ll tell captain you’re awake,” he announced and before Katsuki could ask anything else, he disappeared.

When he was gone Bakugou put the cup down and looked around. It seemed he was in a cabin full of books, maps and various trophies, one more exotic than the other. The pillows and covers he was lying on were all of different fabrics and patterns, visibly from different sides of the world. It was exactly like he imagined a pirate cabin and a little bit more.  

The door opened and a smiling blonde entered the cabin. Bakugou’s first instinct was to get on his feet but he was still too hangover to do so, so the best he could do was sit up and straighten his back to look at least a little bit more threatening and confident.

“Welcome aboard the Thunder Queen!” the man greeted, opening his arms with pride. Bakugou gritted his teeth, feeling his headache worsen.

“Did you just fucking kidnap me?!” he hissed out with slowly boiling fury. But it didn’t faze the pirate; he just laughed it off and leaned on his desk.

“I sure did. You wouldn’t believe I was Chargebolt and that deeply wounded me,” he feigned hurt in his voice, placing a hand over his heart. Bakugou scoffed.

“Like hell it did.”

The captain smiled.

“Look, I couldn’t have a boy like you go around spitting on my name. Such a pretty one too. I’d rather have you on my side. So, what do you say?” he cocked his head to the side, eyeing Katsuki with mirth.

“Huh?” he was too angry to even understand what that madman was saying. The captain only smiled at that, but something in his eyes shifted mischievously again.

“I’m a man of my word, so you either sign a contract to earn your food and a part of the loot or we leave you in the next port we deck in. You don’t have to decide just yet, of course.”

Bakugou was fuming but the captain kept his annoying, amused smile on. He pushed away from the desk and approached him to sit down next to him, which made Bakugou scoot away, but it didn’t put enough distance between them to his liking. The captain chuckled and pulled a small bottle from an inside pocket of his coat.

“Drink it. It’s good for a hangover.” He offered him the bottle but seeing his threatening stare he raised an eyebrow. “You’re on an open sea, on a ship, surrounded by pirates. You think it can worsen your position?” And after another second he added. “I’m not gonna drug ya, I’m a consent type of guy.” He smiled charmingly leaning in and that made Katsuki rip the bottle out of his hand and chug down its contents.

It was spicy and thick and his first reaction was to spit it out, but the captain was instantly on him, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Swallow it, it’s fucking expensive.”

Bakugou looked into his stern, golden pupils from too close and swallowed, his eyes watering. He breather through his nose feeling a weird soothing sensation in his mouth and throat slowly fighting the nausea and making him think a little clearer already.

The captain noticed it and took his hand away, patting his cheek.

“Good boy,” he cooed. Bakugou swatted his hand away, which made him chuckle. He took the bottle and stood up. “Now come, I’ll show you the deck.”

Bakugou put on his displeased face and stood up reluctantly. But inside, he was thrilled for the unknown that was coming towards him so rapidly. For the sea adventures awaiting him with the Chargebolt he has heard so many stories about. Stories which truthfulness he was about to verify.

[mdye]

NEW YORK ― Dozens of activists, including some city lawmakers, gathered Monday outside City Hall in Manhattan to show support for Linda Sarsour, the Muslim activist and Palestinian-American best known as an organizer of the massive Women’s March on Washington.

The activists said Sarsour is the victim of a slanderous and Islamophobic smear campaign that started late last month, when the New York Daily News published a vicious op-ed by Democratic New York state assemblyman Dov Hikind.

Hikind, who called on the City University of New York to rescind its invitation for Sarsour to deliver the commencement speech at its School of Public Health, argued that Sarsour is anti-Semitic, as well as an “apologist for terror” who has “no lack of affection for dead Jews.”

Sarsour’s supporters, many of whom are Jewish, refuted these claims in the strongest terms, accusing Hikind of conflating Sarsour’s criticism of Israel with anti-Semitism. They pointed to her interfaith work in the Jewish community and her long history of condemning terrorism.

Watch city council member Brad Lander, who is Jewish, defend Sarsour at Monday’s rally: 

Thank u @bradlander for ur common sense & reason against a sea of fearmongering and hate (vid by @JacksonHL ) https://t.co/EzJ8olOWQL

— Justice League NYC (@NYjusticeleague) May 9, 2017

Hikind’s piece marked the beginning of a full-throated crusade against Sarsour, which was soon joined by members of Congress, conservative pundits and anti-Muslim hate sites. This has precipitated an online harassment campaign directed at Sarsour, who showed HuffPost multiple death threats she has received in recent weeks.

Meanwhile, Hikind is promoting a video in which he points to evidence he says proves Sarsour is a terror sympathizer. And on May 1, he tweeted: “Social justice activist or terrorist advocate? @lsarsour has some questions to answer.”

But if there’s anyone who has questions to answer regarding terrorism, it’s Hikind. 

The powerful, taxpayer-paid elected official ― who has represented Brooklyn’s Borough Park and its large Orthodox population in the state assembly since 1982 ― spent years as a leader of an actual terror group.

Starting in the early 1970s, Hikind was a high-ranking member of the Jewish Defense League, a group described in a 2001 FBI report as a “right-wing terrorist group” and a “violent extremist Jewish organization.”

The JDL has been responsible for a slew of bombings, shootings, assaults, break-ins, threats and acts of vandalism since its founding in 1968, including when Hikind was a member.

Because there has been little public accounting of Hikind’s role in the organization, HuffPost sent the assemblyman a detailed list of questions this week about his relationship to the JDL. In response, Hikind gave HuffPost an exclusive statement ― a full copy of which can be read at the bottom of this article ― in which he states that he “couldn’t recall with greater fondness” his time with the group.

“Over 43 years ago, I was very proud to be part of the Jewish Defense League,” Hikind wrote.

Although Hikind claims his role in the JDL was “non-violent,” his statement did not address specific HuffPost questions regarding whether he once called for the assassination of pro-Palestinian Arab-Americans; whether he was a close friend of a man convicted of carrying out 20 bombings in New York and Washington, D.C.; or regarding why the FBI suspected him in plotting six bombings of Arab targets across the U.S.

He did not answer a question regarding whether he had knowledge of, or involvement in, other JDL plots that involved violence or were otherwise illegal. He also did not deny that in 1976 he tossed a smoke bomb into the Ugandan mission at the United Nations in New York, saying in his statement that he did a “few pranks” at the Ugandan mission, “for which I was never charged.”

JDL’s founder, Rabbi Meir Kahane, “consistently preached a radical form of Jewish nationalism which reflected racism, violence and political extremism,” according to the Anti-Defamation League, a prominent Jewish organization that fights anti-Semitism.  

Kahane publicly called Arabs “dogs” and who was once part of a crowd in Israel that chanted “Kill the Arabs!” and attempted to lynch two Arab passersby. He called for the ethnic cleansing of Arabs from Israel and the occupied territories and was convicted in the U.S. for making a bomb. He also formed the Kach political party in Israel, which was later deemed a violent terrorist organization by both Israel and the U.S.

Hikind speaks admiringly of Kahane in his statement. He said he was “no longer involved” with Kahane when the rabbi moved to Israel in the early 1970s, but noted that “the truth is I continued to watch and admire Rabbi Kahane from afar.”

“Did I agree with him on everything?” Hikind said. “Alas, I don’t even agree with my own wife Shani on everything. Almost everything.”

Four days after the Daily News published Hikind’s op-ed, the paper published another by Dr. Barat Ellman and Ellen Lippman, two rabbis who defended Sarsour against all of the assemblyman’s allegations. They wrote that Hikind’s “sloppy attempt to demonize her reeks of anti-Muslim bias.”

Hikind addressed the two rabbis toward the end of his statement to HuffPost, appearing to take umbrage that “two women rabbis” challenged him.

“How would Rabbi Kahane respond today hearing that two women rabbis attempted to kosher someone as transparently dangerous and anti-Semitic as Linda Sarsour? ‘I warned you!’” he wrote.

You can read Hikind’s full statement to HuffPost below.

  Confessions of a Non-Violent Jewish Activist

by Dov Hikind

My recent objections to terrorist propagandist Linda Sarsour and her glorification of radical Islamic fanatics has caused some of her supporters to respond with the knee-jerked cry of, “Kill the messenger!” One can only hope their plea is figurative. Regardless, they’ve called into question, and asked reporters to delve into, my own personal history. The Huffington Post has asked me for a statement regarding a time of my life that, to be quite frank, I couldn’t recall with greater fondness.

Over 43 years ago, I was very proud to be part of the Jewish Defense League. Founded by Rabbi Meir Kahane of Brooklyn, the JDL’s early exploits received a fair amount of attention. After all, the notion of Jews standing up for themselves was still rather novel to some who preferred when Jews didn’t. I came late to the organization but was gratified to work on behalf of Soviet Jewry, Syrian Jewry, fighting anti-Semitism and helping the Jewish poor. These were the days of the Civil Rights movement and people everywhere were awakening to the necessity of getting involved.

During those years I was arrested on numerous occasions at the Soviet mission for chaining myself to their fence. We were bringing attention to urgent matters and demanding change through non-violent protest.

When Rabbi Kahane decided to emigrate to Israel, I was no longer involved with his work. I remained in Brooklyn and had work of my own. Some people have suggested that I was Rabbi Kahane’s right-hand man. If so, then I resent having not even been mentioned in his best seller, The Story of the Jewish Defense League.

The truth is I continued to watch and admire Rabbi Kahane from afar. Did I agree with him on everything? Alas, I don’t even agree with my own wife Shani on everything. Almost everything.

Looking back on my JDL days, I’m proud of what we accomplished. Countless Russians Jews are no longer trapped behind the Iron Curtain. Natan Sharansky, the celebrated refusenik who became a prominent leader in Israel, notes how vital our civil rights protests were on behalf of trapped and mistreated Russian Jews. 

Another time attention was vital was when Ugandan leader Idi Amin had Israelis kidnapped and held hostage. Israel was successful in rescuing everyone except Dora Bloch, a 78-year-old grandmother who had been hospitalized. When Dora went missing, we needed to bring attention to her plight even if it meant bedeviling the people at the Ugandan mission with a few pranks… for which I was never charged. The story grows in the re-telling (especially by my detractors), but when I recall how Dora was finally found after being burnt to death, one can hardly blame me for trying to free her.

After Rabbi Kahane was assassinated, murdered by one of the terrorists who would attempt to blow up the World Trade Center, I was invited to speak at his funeral. It was a very sad day. Everyone who knew Rabbi Kahane recognized that he was one of the most dedicated individuals when it came to standing up for his people. He was certainly the one man most responsible for helping to free Soviet Jews.

How would Rabbi Kahane respond today hearing that two women rabbis attempted to kosher someone as transparently dangerous and anti-Semitic as Linda Sarsour? 

“I warned you!”

America does not do a good job of tracking incidents of hate and bias. We need your help to create a database of such incidents across the country, so we all know what’s going on. Tell us your story.

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