#professor willow WHAT are you feeding that man

[kimbapisnotsushi]

i was going to come up with my own designs for the pokemon au. but hinata in spark’s outfit would be REALLY funny

[amazingmaeve]

Used ━ n. longbottom

─ “It sucks not being loved by the one you love,”

summary ─ y/n has liked harry potter ever since her first year. then he asked her out in her sixth year but soon realized that he never really wanted her. when the war comes she gets closer to neville.

warnings ─ angst, fluff, crucio curse

a/n ─ no hate to ginny or harry

word count ─ 3.7k

Y/N doesn’t remember her parents. She doesn’t remember how they loved her or how they fought for her to stay alive. She hates that she couldn’t help them when they died but she was only 1 year old. She hates that she can’t even remember them. It wasn’t anything magical, her parents were muggles and so they were killed during a burglary or so she thought. She remembers it oh so clearly.

After her parents died they had to put her in the fosters system since her parents had no family. No grandparents, siblings, or any godparents. She didn’t understand why her parents didn’t have anyone in their life to name them as her godparents. But she always tried to not think like that since the thought of her parents would bring tears to her eyes.

When she got her Hogwarts letter she was living in a foster family that didn’t like her one bit, so they didn’t care where she went. Her ‘parents’ knew of the magic world so they knew where she would be going all year. Her ‘siblings’ didn’t really like her so they were really happy about her leaving. Y/N was happy since her family wouldn’t be there and they wouldn’t need another mouth to feed. Her ‘parents’ seemed rather thrilled that she would be going.

Her parents knew of the world because of her though. That’s the only reason her siblings weren’t going is what they told her.

Her first year of Hogwarts wasn’t anything special. She met her first friend though, Neville Longbottom. He would often remind her that she should try and talk to Harry since they had similar pasts. Y/N heard that Harry’s parents were killed by you-know-who and she felt bad for him.

So she tried talking to him but he always seemed too busy or talking with Ron or Hermione. She didn’t mind since he knew he had friends and didn’t really try to talk to him for her second year. But that’s when her crush developed alongside Ginny Weasley which she eventually became friends with. But that didn’t taint her and Nevilles relationship.

Oftentimes Ginny would gush to Y/N about her crush on Harry but always kept her feelings inside, not wanting to hurt the redhead girl. So she would often rant to Neville about her feelings, he was very accepting and supportive of her feelings.

In her 3rd year everything changed for her. The dementors have taken a toll on everyone and luckily she got the paper signed so she could go to Hogsmeade with Neville and Ginny. Her feelings for Harry developed even more this year since she usually stayed back to go to Hogsmeade so she spent some time talking to him.

“Harry what are you doing I thought you’d be at Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione,” Y/N asked confused as looked up to see Harry sitting next her awkwardly smiling at her.

“I couldn’t get my permission slip signed,” Harry let out a disappointed sigh. ���What are you doing here I heard that you got your slip signed,” He looked at her confused.

“I don’t like big crowds,” Y/N defended looking down at her book as a test was upon them the next. It was true it stemmed from her claustrophobia and when she was around large groups of people it felt like the walls were closing in on her. “But I wish i could give you my pass since it seems like I won’t be using it all,” She thought out loud.

“It wouldn’t do anything I can’t go out since everyone seemed to be afraid that Black would get me,” Harry bitterly said, putting his head down on his hands. Y/N heard that Sirius Black at escaped Azkaban and was quite afraid herself. Y/N read somewhere that he killed 12 muggles and was a right hand man to who musnt’ be named.

“It’s scary to have a mass murder around,” Y/N hesitated to say noticing how irritated Harry got when they mentioned Black himself.

“Yeah but it's not like he's going to be at Hogsmeade where they’re people and Dementors,” Harry snapped which made Y/N flinch from the tone in his voice. “Sorry didn’t mean to startle you,” He apologized with sympathy in his eyes.

“It’s fine it must get old of not having the abilities other kids have,” Y/N softly says looking up to see Harry who nodded agreeing with her.

After that night It seemed like her and Harry talked whenever everyone went to Hogsmeade and it was sorta like they were friends. But one day Neville and Ginny convinced her to go to Hogsmeade but what she didn’t know is that Harry was there as well.

When they went to the three broomsticks Y/N was laughing at something Ginny said. The three agreed that Y/N would go and get the drinks and she didn’t mind since she needed a break from all the smiling. She noticed McGonagall, Filtwick, and Hagrid talking to Madam Rosmerta who owned the three broomsticks. It seemed like they were having a serious conversation and when Y/N overheard it was about Harry her eyes went wide and listened to all of it as she sat a few stools away. Describing how Black was a friend of Harry’s parents and how he betrayed them for you-know-who. But she let out a gasp when she heard her own name.

“But we cannot tell Miss Y/L/N that her parents were a part of the muggles that Black killed,” McGonagall sternly said to the four adults around her. Her mind went crazy. As she carried the three butter beers to her and her friends table.

“What’s wrong Y/N,” Neville worriedly asked looking at Y/N who had been silent ever since she sat next to him and Ginny.

“I just found out my parents were killed by Sirius Black,” Y/N bluntly said, shock still coursing through her veins. Neville and Ginny sat there with mouths agape as they heard what they’re friend said.

“H-how did you find out,” Ginny stuttered out of shock.

“I heard the professors talking about it,” Y/N quietly said, looking at her hands in her lap, thoughts still running its course. Neville gave her a small smile while putting his hand on hers.

Ever since that night she’s tried to figure out information about her parents and if they knew about magic. So she went to one of the easiest teachers to get information from. Hagrid. She wasn’t going to use him since he was one of her favorite teachers. But once she got inside his hut she couldn’t ask him for that.

He was crying about Buckbeak who was a Hippogriff, was going to get executed. Y/N told him that there must be a way to persuade the ministry to keep Buckbeak alive. Hagrid explained that Harry, Ron and Hermione would be helping them appeal it so that made Y/N relax a bit.

Over the next few months she kept visiting Hagrid to see how he was doing and even comforted a crying Hermione alongside Hagrid. Hermione, Ron, and Harry weren’t talking which made Hermione cry, she explained through the tears. She also told them about Scabbers and Crookshanks' situation. Y/N thought all she had to do was apologize to Ron about being insensitive about Scabbers but didn’t say anything not wanting to upset Hermione.

She kept researching about her parents and Neville even ended up helping her. Y/N was thankful for Neville and his presence, she felt like she could talk to him about anything and she always could. Neville would listen as she cried about her parents and give her a hug afterwards reassuring her. Y/N was thankful to have such a good friend like Neville.

One day towards the end of the year she was going to go check up on Hagrid since she heard about his appeal being rejected. As she knocked on the door Hagrid opened with a smile but disappeared which confused Y/N.

“Yer guys mus leave I don’t want’you to be here when it ‘appens,'' Hagrid sternly said as Y/N came in and saw Harry, Ron and Hermione. Y/N immediately shook her head and disagreed wanting to be there for Hagrid. Harry, Ron and Hermione agreed on that.

But alas the four of them left with Harry's invisibility cloak over them so the people from the ministry didn’t see them. Hermione asked what Y/N was doing there with a confused tone and Y/N answered that she wanted to be there for Hagrid. Y/N noticed that Ron got Scabbers back which made Y/N somewhat happy since she thought that he would’ve been dead.

Scabbers fought though and did bite Ron and tried to make his escape. Ron let out a frustrated sigh as he got out of the invisibility quote ignoring Hermione, Harry, and Y/Ns dismay. He tripped and held a squealing Scabbers in his hands. Y/N sighed and walked over to him and intended to help him.

“Harry behind you,” Ron yelled pointing behind Harry and Hermione. Y/N’s eyes were filled with confusion as she turned around and her eyes were full of fear as she saw a huge black dog standing there growling.

Before anyone could do anything the dog sprinted forward and jumped over Harry and Hermione headed straight for Ron. Y/N tried to get to Ron but the dog pushed into the Whomping Willow where she hit her head and blacked out.

The next time she woke up was in the infirmary. Y/N was in a bed next to Ron who looked like he had a broken leg. Ron noticed she was awake and explained what had happened. That Sirius Black wasn’t the one killed Harry’s parents. That it was Peter Pettigrew who was a ‘friend’ to Harry’s parents.

Y/N was in shock once again. She spent so much time hating Sirius Black for killing her family when all in all it was Peter Pettigrew. She instantly felt bad for blaming him as a few tears cascaded down her cheeks.

After that the end of the year came quick. She bid farewell to Neville and Ginny and was off for the summer.

Her 4th year wasn’t as bad as her 3rd. But when the twizard tournament was introduced she had a bad feeling in her stomach. But was quickly relieved that it was prohibited for anyone under the age of sixteen to enter. But when Harry was chosen for this tournament it shocked her since he was only 14.

Her crush for him hadn’t flourished instead grew.

Over the year she knew of Harry’s crush on Cho Chang. A ravenclaw who was on the quidditch team. She didn’t hate Cho but envied her. The Yule ball was nice but she didn’t have anyone to go with as Neville took Ginny. She was happy for them but was wallowing her sorrows.

At the end of the year and the tournament it was revealed that Voldemort had made his return. It frightened Y/N that the most evil wizard of all time was back. She was scared for her friends and family.

Over the summer she was spent scared for her and her loved ones lives.

Her 5th year sucked. Umbridge made her entrance and immediately Y/N disliked her. She didn’t know why it just seemed like she was putting on a facade. And it was proven when Y/N got detention for standing up for Harry.

She got the blood quill that date and went to bed crying herself to sleep from the pain. Neville confronted her the next day and comforted her when she revealed what had happened. Y/N had often comforted Neville as well.

That year Bellatrix Lestrange escaped from Azkaban. Y/N knew that Bellatrix had cursed Neville's parents and they were tortured so bad they didn’t even recognize Neville. He told Y/N this in their 4th year when he found her crying and finally told her about his parents.

Y/N instantly felt bad for crying when her parents were dead while his were alive and had no memories.

Y/N had joined Dumbledores army when it was created. She wanted to learn more so she could protect people who couldn’t. She often got angry when she couldn’t perform a spell right and almost gave up once.

“You can’t just quit,” Neville replies, staring at Y/N who was trying to cast a Patronus.

“I can’t do it, maybe I’m just not cut out for this,” Y/N says in defeat sitting down on the steps.

“You can do it I know you can,” Neville reassures sitting down next to her.

“I keep trying and all I do is fail and fail,” Y/N says as she sniffles. Tears start to roll down her cheeks. “Everyone else can but why can’t I,” She whispers. She can tell that Harry was getting irritated that she was behind.

“I’ll help you,” Neville quietly says, giving her a head which she hugs back.

And in a week she was finally able to produce a Patronus with the help of Neville. She used a memory of her, Neville, Ginny, and Luna. It was night where she and her friends were just talking and joking at the Three Broomsticks.

When Harry went to get Sirius back from Voldemort everyone including Y/N insisted that they should go. Harry was hesitant at first but let everyone come.

It was hard since Death Eaters were there already and a fight broke out. Y/N didn’t believe that she could fight any of the death eaters til she face one of them. It was a simple spell, Stupefy, that sent the guy flying back.

Y/N fought against the death eaters as the order came into help when all hope was lost. She saw when Sirius Black was killed by Bellatrix and saw the agony on Harry’s face as he tried to get out of Lupin's grasp to go after Bellatrix with tears running down his face.

Y/N with the rest of her peers found Harry on the ground with a weird look on his face. She looked at him with sympathy as he talked to Voldemort. Then went into shock when she saw Voldemort standing right there in front of Harry.

Her 6th year wasn’t the best either. With Voldemort officially back everyone was on edge because of it. Her days were usually spent hanging with Neville and Luna. Occasionally Ginny was there as well.

But something changed in Harry. At first Y/N thought it was because of losing Sirius and the return of Voldemort. He started hanging around her and she thought he liked her.

It was proven when Harry asked her to go to the Three Broomsticks with him. Y/N accepted since her crush on him barely dwindled. She still felt something for him but she hoped that his feelings were true.

While on the date Harry seemed on edge which made Y/N extremely confused.

“Are you okay Harry,” Y/N asked as he looked around searching for something as it seemed. Harry looked at her and shook his head with a smile.

“No I’m fine just nervous,” Harry sighed.

“You’re not the only one,” Y/N reassured taking a sip of her butter beer. She felt like her heart was going to jump out of her chest from her nervousness.

While talking about her summer Harry seemed like he wasn’t listening. She felt like she was boring him or something. Why did he ask her out if all he was going to do was be bored? But then he suddenly kissed her. Y/N was surprised.

But she kissed back anyway as Harry’s hand was placed on her cheek and her hand on his neck. They sat there making out for a few minutes before they pulled back breathlessly. It was good for her first kiss.

Y/N and Harry went back to the castle, an awkward silence between them. But Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine. She didn’t know how Harry felt since he didn’t say anything except bidding her a good night.

She fell asleep with a smile gracing her lips. Over the year Harry kept taking her on dates but never asking her to be his girlfriend. She felt awkward about it since it seemed like there was no spark. But her and Harry just kept going out and having make out sessions here and there.

She felt like her feelings were changing. She vented to Neville about Harry not seeming interested in her.

Everything was revealed when they were celebrating the win of Gryffindor. Y/N was looking around for Harry when she saw him kissing Ginny. She knew she had no right to be upset since they weren’t dating. But she felt used like the only reason he took her out was to make Ginny feel jealous.

She ducked her head down so no one could see the tears running down her face. As she was making her way towards her room she ran into someone.

“Sorry,” Y/N apologized not looking up.

“Y/N what’s wrong,” Nevilles voice sounded worried as he looked down at Y/N who was surprised that it was Neville. Her and Neville sat on the stairs, her head on his shoulder.

“It sucks not being loved by the one you love,” Y/N muttered as her voice cracked a bit.

“Yeah,” Neville whispers looking down at her. The tears were still present on her face.

For the rest of the year she avoided Harry and his friends. She couldn’t even talk to Ginny, so she usually sat with Neville and Luna. She felt her sadness wash away as she spent more time with Neville. She felt her feelings grow for Neville

But at the end of the year Dumbledore was dead. Harry told everyone it was Snape who did it which shocked everybody even more.

Her 7th year was by far her worst.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione went off to find the Horcruxes to defeat Voldemort. While Y/N and Neville returned to Hogwarts with Ginny and Luna. Y/N was still on and off with Ginny.

She didn’t want to go back since Professor Snape was now going to be headmaster of the school. She didn’t know why since he was the one who murdered Dumbledore.

Over the summer Neville and Y/N got even closer as they sent owls to keep up with each other. Y/N could feel herself liking Neville in a romantic way. She didn’t understand, maybe the feelings were dormant.

She felt her heart race around him, butterflies entered her stomach as she talked to him.

When they got to the school everything seemed to have changed. Everything seemed darker and even the teachers seemed angry. Which was understandable. But it seemed like there was a bias for Slytherins.

They got out scott free with everything. When bullied anyone no detention. When anyone else including Y/N stood up for herself and her friends they got detention either in the forbidden forest or helping Filch.

She spent more time with Neville complaining about Snape and the Slytherins. It felt like the spark between them started to go off whenever they were around each other. Luna seemed to catch on but Y/N denied it.

Everything came so fast. The battle started when Harry returned with Ron and Hermione. Y/N didn’t want to admit but she was scared, scared for her friends and her own life.

Everything went crazy when Death Eaters started to approach the barrier that was put there so no one could get it. It seemed to work at first but eventually they got through.

While running through the halls trying to find Neville, she lost him when the death eaters entered. She stopped when she saw a flash of platinum blood hair in front of her.

“Draco,” Y/N gasped as she saw the Malfoy boy standing in front of her. Before she could do anything to persuade him out of doing something, Draco pointed his wand at her.

“Crucio,” Draco yelled, pointing his wand and in an instant Y/N felt instant pain.

It wasn’t the kind of pain she got when she found out Harry didn’t like her. It was like five thousand hot needles seeping into her skin. She fell to the ground twitching from the pain as she screamed. Tears of pain fell from her eyes and the pain ran its course. Draco ran off to god knows where.

After some time that felt as if it had been years and years of pain she finally felt the pain dwindle a bit.

“Y/N,” She heard someone scream her name. Through her blurred vision she saw Neville kneel down besides her as the pain was still there but it was coming down.

“Neville,” Y/N whimpers, squeezing his hand when he went to grab it. Neville looked down at her and brought her head to his lap.

“What happened,” Neville softly asked, looking over her body to see where the pain was coming from. She felt the pain dwindle as she sat and winced as a little pain was here and there.

“Crucio curse,” Y/N whispered leaning against the wall next to Neville, her head resting on his shoulder. Tears still blurred her eyes as she looked up at him.

“Who was it,” Neville immediately said as he knew how bad that curse was.

“Draco Malfoy,” Y/N muttered looking up at him. Y/N sniffled as some pain poked at her body.

“Can I try something,” Neville asked looking down at her. Y/N looked up at him and nodded wondering what he was going to do. Neville leaned down to kiss her.

Y/N kissed back putting her hand on his neck as they sat there for a minute kissing. Y/N winced as she felt some more pain.

“We better get out of here,” Neville said standing up grabbing her hand running throughout the halls to find anyone.

[achaoticeternal]

willow // r. weasley

RON WEASLEY X READER folklore/evermore series masterlist

Summary: Ron, Harry, and Hermione have always been your closest friends. But as we grow up and people change, how do our feelings change? Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: time jumps and weird flows but it makes sense so that the story can build. harassment. gushy love stuff (gross) A/N: based on the song willow by taylor swift

As the years passed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, students would flourish into adolecense making them young fools for years to come. But as you often quoted to your dear friend Hermione, “We are all fools in love” - Jane Austen.

“Well if we are simply all fools in love, then tell me where is your knight in shining armor?” The young witch teased you as you sat in the courtyard, reading and simply enjoying each other’s company. 

“Oh, please, Hermione. You know me better then to be some dimwitted girl who chases around a boy who is oblivious to her affections. In fact, I feel bad for the girls who do, because if they were a little more patient, they would see that good things come in due time.”

“Really? And which prized author said that?”

“I did!” The pair of you snickered as your attentions drifted around to see if you could spot the topic of your conversation.

The two of you seemed to be the only fourth year girls who hadn’t taken fascination with boys in your year or older. Every day in the Gryffindor Common Room, many girls gossiped about the latest drama that had developed and which boys they swear fancied them. And though you enjoyed chatting with your female peers, you and Hermione had felt quite left out of the crushes and strange romances beginning to blossom.

Well, you both were left out until Viktor Krum swept Hermione off her feet, and you couldn’t exactly be mad at her for it. In fact, when she confided in you about her fling with the foreign man, you were completely ecstatic as you both giggled at how the other girls at Hogwarts would react. Jealousy took quite a toll on many girl, and apparently a few men. 

And even furthermore to Ron’s surprise, both of you had gotten dates to the Yule Ball before Harry or himself could ask you. Roger Malone, a kind Ravenclaw who you had Divination with, had asked you and you did have a wonderful evening. Even if Ron persistently made snide remarks about him before, during, and after the ball had concluded.

However, your fourth year and seemingly most dangerous year at Hogwarts, was quickly coming to a close with the students of Beauxbaton and Durmstrang leaving just a few days ago. The Summer Holiday was coming up quicker than you expected and soon your small group of friends would all be returning to your homes.

“Everything is going to change now, isn’t it?” Hermione asked our group of four after our international peers has departed.

“Yes, but we have each other.”

Once you had stepped of the Hogwarts Express, your parents whisked you away to the family summer cottage so that you could forget the grief of the past year. From watching the trials of the tournament, to puberty, and to loosing a classmate; life was quickly moving forward and your parents began to fear the return of The Dark Lord. 

Yet instead of being caught up with family time and walks along the beach, your mind counted down the days until you would be spending time with the Weasley family again before classes started. You always felt welcomed by the family of gingers and were thrilled that you were invited back after attending the Quidditch World Cup with them last summer.

For the last month, you had been owling your friends weekly, yet you seemed to be sending and receiving owls from Ron every other day. He had never been much of a writer, but claimed in his letters that he was extremely bored with the twins now being of age and not seeing his friends yet that summer.

When it became closer to time, Ron wrote to you saying that the Weasley’s had temporarily moved to a town home in the city, but that you were still welcome to join. He then wrote that his mother had owled your parents about the change and your arrangements to join the Weasley’s before school began.

And before you knew it, you were heading the Grimauld Place.

“(Y/N), darling, its time for us to go!” Your father called down from the bottom of the stairs.

You stomped down the stairs in your new summer clothes, rushing next to your parents at the fireplace. Your clothes and bags had already been sent off and now you’re parents would be sending you off as well.

“Change of plans, dear. We will be join you and the Weasley’s until dinner.”

“Alright, is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, everything is fine. We just have to attend a brief meeting and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

You and your parents arrived in the Kitchen of the hidden apartment without a hitch. Both Weasley parents along with their son, Bill, stood closest to you. From where you stood, you could also see Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Professor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and to your surprise, Professor Snape.

“My heavens, its good to see you, (Y/N). Ron is upstairs, along with Hermione and Harry who only arrived in the past hour.” As soon as you had arrived, Mrs. Weasley had ushered you out of the room and shut the door quickly.

You looked around the dark hallway in order to try and get some idea of the flat you would be staying in for the next couple of weeks. Your gaze moved to the stairs and you began to stalk over to them and slowly make your way up, observing the wall paper and where it started to peel away from the wall. You had made it up the the landing, looking over strange vases and jars. 

Their was a faint whisper that you nearly missed, “Bloody hell.” Suddenly there were foot steps rapidly approaching you, yet your feet remained in place, your body unmoving, “(Y/N)!,” you body turned quickly towards the voice. Ron and you were chest to chest, nearly clashing into each, the red head beaming down at you as he pulled you into the hug. 

Ron had grown quite a few inches over the summer, now making him comfortably taller than you. His once long hair and been trimmed up and framed his face nicely, but still kept a boyish length that matched his personality. His embrace was warm as he pulled you tight to his chest, making your cheeks flush a dusty pink. You took the opportunity to breathe in his scent; cinnamon, flannel, and a crackling fire met your nose. Ron hadn’t completely changed, but he was certainly grown from the boy you had last seen near two months ago. It was new, like the warmth now in your chest.

“Oh-ho, look what we’ve walked into, Fred,” George called out from the end of the hallway.

“The two love birds are reuniting, George, we must not dare interrupt them,” Fred teased, the pair of them now approaching.

Ron had released his grip on you and glared at his brothers, his features showing his irritation, “Will you two bug off?” His freckled cheeks burned a deep crimson, leaving you questioning if it was out of embarrassment or that you two were caught in such close proximity. 

“Don’t be such a git, Fred, now that Angelina has broken up with you, again,” Ginny teased the twin as she approached you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Harry and Hermione are in the other room,” Ron said and whisked you off after departing for Ginny. His fingers intertwined with yours as he he tugged you down the hallway with dull walls.

After reuniting with your friends and the meeting in the kitchen being adjourned, it was time for the group to either join for dinner, or depart. Your parents decided to depart shortly after the meeting and bidding you a sweet goodbye along with a few other members. However there was still quite a crowd that Molly had left to feed. 

Once dinner had concluded after much laughter and discussing the past summer and what this upcoming school year held, people began trickling away from the dinner table. This left just the Weasley family, Harry Sirius, Hermione, and yourself.

“Well, Ron, it is your turn for dish duty tonight,” Molly told her youngest son while levitating all the dishes towards the sink.

“I can help you if you’d like,” You looked to Ron who was sitting in front of him.

“(Y/N), dear, you don’t have to do that. You are a guest here. Ron will be able to handle it.”

“Well, she is welcome to join me by staying in the kitchen or help,” He smiled warmly at you and a new found warmth spread through your chest. Never had such a feeling come to fruition in you.

The rest of the group departed from the kitchen with only yourself and Ron remaining. Wordlessly, the two of you approached the sink. Ron began to wash the dishes, while you jumped up on to the counter next to him. As he cleaned them, you would dry them. It was a nice and soft moment, the pair of you making light conversation.

“It’s just all crazy to me, how much we’ve grown recently. I mean, this summer has felt like years when it’s really been only two months since I saw you last,” Ron handed you a plate as he complained.

“Well why are you complaining? You practically grown three summers worth in one,” you giggled and he lightly splashed the tap water on you. 

“Do I at least still have my boyish charm?” He stuck his tongue out at you as you squealed and upon settling, sent you a wink. You scrunched your nose in response, as you attempted to distract him away from the warmth that spread across your face, “I’m teasing, I’m teasing.”

All the dishes were soon washed, dried, and placed in there respective cabinets all without the use of magic, “You know it’s nice to have you around again,” Ron spoke, placing the final cup into the cupboard. He then strolled his way over to the counter where you sat, leaning his hip against it as he faced you.

“I love my family, but they don’t give me the same sense of home that you do...” By that time, Ron had managed to snake his way between your legs and then counter. His face was mere inches from yours and you create various constellations with the freckles on his face. The pair of you stayed their in each other’s warm presence, not wanting to leave the situation, yet wondering whether to take it further. 

The tension began to feel overwhelming as you began to get lost in whatever feeling was happening between the pair of you. So you tried to rationalize the situation like you always did and pulled him into a close hug. Your arms held tightly around his shoulders as you felt the same temptation to wrap your legs around his waist. He latched his arms around your waist with the same fever, “Would it be completely crazy that you feel like home to me?”

Soon the summer holiday melted away into another year at Hogwarts, except this year presented itself in stranger circumstances. At the end of term, you were to take your O.W.L.S and prepare for a career in the wizarding world. However, there was yet another new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who was interesting to say the least. Hermione has whispered to you at dinner the first night that the Minister himself placed Dolores Umbridge at Hogwarts to spy on Dumbledore. 

And to make things stranger, Dumbledore was barely around the castle like in years before and Harry kept having strange dreams about He Who Shall Not Be Named. Umbridge also refused to teach her students magic through practice and so your quartet had taken it into your own hands to begin Dumbledore’s army. All through the fall term and now into the spring, your ragtag group had successfully practiced and avoided the toad discovering your whereabouts; moreover, your relationship with Ron had started to change since summer and it made you nervous. 

When you confided in Hermione after the events at Grimauld Place and her taking notice to both Ron’s and your body language, she tried her best to put it into words for you. “You have a crush on Ron, (Y/N)! And apparently he fancies you, as well.”

“But ‘Mione, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never really had a crush like this before. And I don’t want him to become a distraction with the O.W.L.S at the end of the year,” You tried to reason out things, and make everything seem more logical like you did with every other problem that had faced you before.

“This is one thing that can’t be control with logic and reason. That’s not how emotions are supposed to be felt,” she giggled as she squeezed your hand in hers. 

“I-I know, but I feel like a...a little pixie. constantly hanging around him and in the way of everything and-”

“(Y/N), I think that Ron prefers to have you around,” The bells chimed outside the castle, “I’ll see you at practice after class.”

“See you,” And with that, Hermione left for her final class of the day and you went about roaming the castle on your free period. 

You strolled around, admiring the ancient castle for all her walls had to offer where you now found yourself in the westwing. You were one of few students your year to be allowed to take a free period because of your academic standing and use that time for study or leisure. 

When you neared the hall where the Room of Requirement was, you placed yourself in a window sill to simply enjoy yourself. You pulled out one of the Herbology books you picked at the library and began reading as you relaxed. Yet the moment was short lived as you heard a voice call your last name.

“(Y/L/N), (Y/L/N)!” Draco Malfoy was strutting down the corridor towards where you were seated.

You jumped down from your ledge, giving him a curious look, “Is there something I can help you with Draco?”

“Why aren’t you in class, (Y/L/N)? You could loose points for Gryffindor for not being where you should be,” He snarled at you.

“It just so happens I have a free period to do what I please with myself, so if you will pardon me-” You snatched your bag, but before you could turn to leave Draco snatched your wrist into his hand.

“You’re a terrible liar,” He sneered, his face inching closer to yours.

“Malfoy,” Ron appeared behind you, his presence jarring Draco into letting you go. You backed yourself into Ron’s chest, allowing him to be your protector from the Slytherin boy. He ghosted his hand over your hips as if he were trying to pulling you further from Draco, “What seems to be the problem?”

“(Y/N) here seems to be skipping class, which is such a shame since she’s supposed to be such a bright little witch. I figure a detention with Umbridge should straighten her back up.”

“Excuse me,” you quipped to defend yourself and Draco glared daggers at you.

“See happens to have a free period mate, so just bugger off, mate,” Ron stepped in front of you to guard you from the predator that was in the form of Draco Malfoy, “Why don’t you go perform your prefect duties where there are actually students skipping classes or causing trouble?”

Draco’s eyes flickered between the pair of you, and you couldn’t tell which of you he disdained more in this moment, “Whatever, Weasley. I knew you were ever a filthy Pureblood, but I didn’t expect it from you, (Y/N). Both of you and your families are disgraces of Pureblood Wizards.” With his final blow, Malfoy stomped off in the opposite way to find his next prey.

Immediately, you let out the breathe you didn’t even realize you were holding, “Are you alright, (Y/N)?”

Ron now faced you, holding your arms with his large hands, as his eyes scanned for any outward physical or emotional distress Draco could have caused you. You knew that Ron wouldn’t hold himself back from throwing the first punch if he suspected Draco has hurt you.

“I’m quite alright, Ron. I’m just glad you found me when you did, before Draco could take me to her office,” you shuddered at the thought of Umbridge and what she had done to your peers.

His hand flew to your face as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His blue eyes gazed deeply into yours, searching for some sort of answering that hid behind his eyes. “Ron-?”

Before you could continue speaking, Ron pressed his lips to yours and you responded just as quick. A strong feeling in your gut assured you that this is where you were supposed to be, in Ron’s arm, his lips connected with yours. Every emotion that every girl had talked about when being around a boy suddenly made sense, and felt more intense with Ron. After what felt like a lifetime, the pair of you pulled apart from each other. 

He offered you a half-smile as he appeared too love struck to form a coherent sentence, “I-I”, you pressed another kiss to his lips as if to bring him back into reality. After all this time, everything seemed right and perfect in this little moment in time. 

It didn’t matter that Umbridge kept sending out her wolves to discover your little army, or if it was only due time till Voldemort made an appearance. Ron was at your side and you were by his through anything that could possibly happen in this lifetime or any other. 

Once you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and giggled, “Is now a bad time to say that I quite fancy you?”

“You’re unbearable, Weasley,” You scrunched your nose and turned, beginning your walk to practice. When you didn’t hear him behind you, you turned to see his standing there with his mouth hanging open. You sighed and offered your hand out, “well, are you coming?”

The red head grinned as he took your hand, taking large strides as he giggled, absolutely over the moon that he had just kissed you and was now holding your hand. The pair of you, hand in hand, made your way to join your friends in the Room of Requirement, preparing for whatever came ahead of you.

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TAGLIST: @solare19​ @amourtentiaa​ 

please message me to join a taglist!!!

[slytherinliththorne]

Lith Thorne’s Profile

New Template by  @cursebreaker-lilith​​

~BASICS~

Name: Ailith Thorne Rosas.

Nicknames: Lith, Witchling.

Name Meaning: Idk man I don’t remember :b

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 16

Birthday: December 10

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Blood Status: Half-Blood

Sexuality: Biromantic asexual

Ethnicity/Nationality:  Mexican

~APPEARANCE~

Body:

Height: 1.65

Build: Slim

Eyes: Golden

Hair: White

Skin: White

Misc:  She has a rune in her chest product of her curse. A small scar in her forehead from when she was little and fell, it’s almost unnoticeable.

Material Items:

Clothing: Hogwarts uniform mostly. Lith has almost no fashion sense, so she resorts to comfy hoodies, plain shirts and jeans. She also owns a few stylish and girly clothes, but won't use them unless necessary.

Accesories: An amethyst earing in later years, a necklace with a feather of Talbott’s and a teeth of Jacob.

In their school bag: Her sketchbook, pens, pencils and chalks, a deck of cards, her wand, a woven bracelet,  her amethyst charm that becomes an earring in later years.

Reference:

Face claim: None

Voice claim: None

~PERSONALITY~

Traits:

Positive:

Lucky: For some reason, Lith has super good luck for the most trivial things, like managing to get a cauldron just before Potions class starts because she forgot hers. She assumes it must be the universe’s compensation for cursing her.

Resourceful: To any problem she encounters, from a forgotten homework to escaping death, she will always have a set of solutions already elaborated in her mind. They might not always work as she wants, but they certainly save her ass.

Intelligent: She is a nerd and an overachiever. She enjoys learning and hyperfixates on a lot of interesting subjects during the course of her life.

Neutral:

Introverted: While she can handle big groups, Lith gets stressed out quickly. She prefers being on her own or with a few friends.

Daydreamer: Lith’s head is always on the clouds, she has whole worlds inside, but never actually gets to express them, not that she minds. She also has a very vivid imagination.

Negative:

Insecure: She gains more confidence as she grows older, but she will always doubt her abilities and her own worth.

Workaholic: No matter what she does, she has to give her best. That causes many sleepless nights and some eyebags once in a while.

No emotional intelligence: When it comes to matters of the heart, she has no clue how to proceed. She finds it difficult to read the mood of a room or identify when someone is feeling down. In the same way that she has a hard time figuring out her own emotions and naming them.

Description:

Something something I’ll write it later

Other:

Likes: Solitude, art, books, muggle trinkets, sweets, winter.

Dislikes: Blood supremacy, loud places, summer, heat.

MBTI: INTP

Alignment: Neutral Good

~HOGWARTS~

Hogwarts House: Slytherin.

OWL CLASSES:

Astronomy: E

Charms: O

DADA: E

Flying: A

Herbology: A

History of Magic: O

Potions: A

Transfiguration: E

OWL ELECTIVES:

Care of Magical Creatures: A

Apparition: O

Divination: A

NEWT CLASSES:

Charms: O

Transfiguration: A

History of Magic: E

Extracurriculars:

Art

Muggle art

Best Classes:

Charms: Lith was taught charms by Jacob since he began Hogwarts when he noticed his sister had a particular proficiency with them, so when Lith arrived she was a bit ahead of her peers and continued to hone her skills on more advanced charms on her own.

History of Magic: Lith has always been a History nerd and History of Magic was a class she enjoyed and easily excelled in. Not much because of the Professor but Rowan and the study groups they would organize.

Worst Classes:

Flying: When in her human form, she is terrified of heights and hates flying.

Herbology: Lith and plants is something that is just not meant to be.

Favorite Professors:

Silvanus Kettleburn: He is eccentric, he is encouraging and he cares not about the world except for his beloved magical creatures. Lith admires his dedication and appreciates a non conventional teacher like him.

Patricia Rakepick: While Lith never fully trusted the curse breaker, she would be lying if she said that she did not enjoy Rakepick’s classes. She was probably the best professor of DADA she ever had.

Least Favorite Professors:

Severus Snape: Despite being her Head of House, Lith never liked Snape. He could mean well and she would be grateful for that but please be at a minimum distance of 6 feet apart. His attitude was the opposite of encouraging and she hated it.

Madam Hooch: She is scary :(( please don’t yell at her for not knowing how to fly she doesn’t need a broom anyway ;-;.

Affiliations/Organizations:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Slytherin House

The House of Thorne

Circle of Khanna

The Werewolf Support Squad (with Jae, Talbott, Chiara and Rowan)

The Silver Coven (with Summer Charn and Catherine Stark)

Professions:

Freelance curse breaker.

Independent Rescuer.

Part-time artist and painter.

~MAGIC~

1st Wand:

Willow wood

10

Surprisingly swishy

Unicorn hair core

“Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.” (Pottermore.)

2nd Wand:

Macpalxochitl wood

113/4

Slightly Yielding

Huactli feather core

Disclaimer: this is my own lore.

Macpalxochitl, or the Devil’s Hand Tree, became a popular wood to make wands out of when the afrancesamiento of Mexico began. Old chroniclers would often refer to this tree as “worthy of any castle and palace”, so it was sought by wizards of high status. Nowadays it’s existence is very rare and only a few wandmakers are allowed to handle this tree. Wands of this wood tend to be stubborn, but they will remain loyal to their first owner. It is said that it’s better suited to healing magic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not able to turn to the Dark Arts.

The Huactli  is a strange eagle-like bird that feeds on snakes. Its peculiarity is that it’s is able to speak the language of men and predict their future. It is said that if you hear it laugh, it means good luck, but if it mutters sadly, it can translate in danger, sickness and death. Wands of this core make powerful spells, but are often unpredictable and difficult to tame. Their loyalty is easily gained and easily lost, though this may vary depending on the wood. 

Boggart 

Form: A big twisted grackle like humanoid with bright golden eyes.

Riddikulus: The grackle suddenly doing the chicken dance.

Amorentia

What they smell: Hot chocolate, books and oil painting (turpentine lmao).

What they smeel like to others: Mint, paint and parchment.

Patronus

Form: Jaguar (for Jacob), Eagle (after Talbott).

Memory: Family reunions on her Mother’s side of the family. All her cousins running around while the adults played cards.

What they see in the Mirror of Erised: Jacob and her, side by side, with the marks of their curse erased from their chests. As the years pass, more people are added into the picture behind them, like Chiara, Rowan, Talbott and Jae. After Rowan dies, their image takes Jacob’s place by Lith’s side.

~FAMILY~

Father: Daniel Thorne.Pureblood wizard.

Curly white hair (not due to the curse tho), white skin and golden eyes. Her dad is her greatest supporter, anything she wants to do he is right behind her cheering for her. He is a little bit eccentric but he loves to indulge his children's interests and spoil them. However, he is not available in the emotional department, he doesn’t know how to deal with those problems.

Mother:  Perla Rosas Villareal.

Muggle. Curly brown hair, brown skin and brown eyes. Her mom is strict but loving. Lith always seeks her for emotional support, she listens patiently and offers help only when asked. She is the one who makes her question things and they often get into arguments because of that.

Brother: Jacob Thorne Rosas

Half-blood wizard. The reason for all this mess. Curly silver hair, brown skin and golden eyes. An introverted and sweet guy, but very naive and trusting. The relationship between the Thorne siblings had always been good. Sure, they fought and argued, but they got along pretty well. After the Vaults, Lith became wary of her own brother, but when it all ended they began to reconstruct their relationship, though it will always be damaged.

Pets:

Onyx (Grackle): He is not exactly her pet, he is the other half of her soul aka her Companion.

Nox: A black cat that stayed back at home with her parents.

~FRIENDS~

Best friends:

Rowan Khanna

Chiara Lobosca

Jae Kim

Good friends:

Badeea Ali (they are art rivals but in a friendly way)

Charlie Weasley

Bill Weasley

Tulip Karasu

Friends:

Penny Haywood

Barnaby

Murphy

Andre

It’s Complicated:

Love Interests:

Talbott Winger (he is the only one I have a description for atm, the others are in another post if I remember correctly lol)

They met when Lith was trying to break her curse via the animagus potion, a thing that obviously didn’t work.

After the failure of the potion (of which Talbott is not aware), they began to notice they shared similar hiding spots, such as the Owlery, and started to acknowledge each other’s existence by simply saying hello.

Then Lith started to get closer again, asking him about the potion and being an animagus. He got suspicious and ended up discovering Chiara and Lith were trying to turn Jae into an animagus to accompany them during Chiara’s werewolf transformation.

He agreed to help them and became a member of the Werewolf Support Squad, a little bit against his will but he warmed up to them eventually.

They started to get close during those night escapades. They hung out more together (with the Squad) even after the full moons.  

Recovering Talbott’s necklace was the first time they got close one on one. It was also the moment they began to develop feelings for each other, even if they couldn’t name them yet.

They like being alone together, and started acting as a couple before they actually became one.

The moment Talbott realizes he has fallen for Lith is a morning after the full moon, when they are all in the Room of Requirement trying to get some sleep and the only thing he can look at is her.

For Lith it takes more time to realize her massive crush. It happened when Talbott fell asleep in the library while studying together. Tulip comes in and says something like “could you tell your boyfriend to wake up, Lith Thorne? We are having a House meeting soon.” Lith’s like “he is not my boyfriend tho??” and Tulip just answers “Really? Thought you were dating for months.” And leaves. That’s the moment when Lith looks at sleeping Talbott and omg he is cute and we certainly do look like a couple oh fuck.

Yet neither of them thinks the other is interested, so they continue like normal.

Until they stay behind in the Room of Requirement one time and they accidentally confess and bam guess they are a real couple now.

They graduate. Talbott gets his own place and works as an auror, Lith travels the world as a curse breaker. They meet sometimes and go on dates.

The year of Voldemort’s uprising, they have a fight and they both go their separate ways, though they never once mention breaking up.

They reunite in the Battle of Hogwarts, Talbott almost dies and they apologize to each other.

Lith moves in with Talbott after that and they marry and adopt two kittens.

Dormmates:

Merula Snyde

Ismelda Murk

Rowan Khanna

Doesn’t interact:

Merula Snyde

Ismelda Murk

Diego Caplan

Bea Haywood

Enemies:

Merula Snyde (formerly)

Patricia Rakepick

R

~STORY~

Childhood: 

Lith was born in a middle low class family in the Valley of Mexico, with a malediction in her blood. Her early childhood consisted of playing with the children in the same street and Jacob. Since insecurity was still not that high in the city, her mom would let them go out of the house on their own. They attended a public elementary school until Jacob received his letter. After that, Lith couldn’t bother with school anymore but was forced to attend. As she grew up, children started to distance themselves from her, all the neighbourhood thought it was suspicious that her brother had gone to a boarding school when they barely had the money to pay for all their expenses. It got worse when Jacob disappeared.

HOGWARTS:

1st Year: Befriends Rowan, Ben, Chiara and Penny. Makes enemies with Merula. Finds Ice Vault. The Werewolf Support Unit is formed by Chiara, Rowan and Lith.

2nd Year: Ben Cooper disappears. Befriends Bill Weasley. They enter another common room. They open the Ice Vault.

3rd Year: Befriends Tulip, Barnaby and Talbott. Tries the Animagus potion. Attempt to turn Jae into an animagus. The Werewolf Support Unit becomes the Werewolf Support Squad with new members Jae and Talbott. They open Fear Vault.

4th Year: Befriends Charlie Weasley. Patricia Rakepick arrives at Hogwarts. Sleepwalking curse. Open Forest Vault. Goes to the Celestial Ball with Rowan and on a “date” with Talbott.

5th Year: Befriends Jae Kim, Badeea Ali, Liz Tuttle and Diego Caplan. Detention in the kitchens. Beatrice Haywood is trapped in the portrait. Rakepick becomes the new DADA teacher. Lith realizes she has feelings for Talbott. They open the Portrait Vault.

6th Year: Ben goes dark. Lith and Talbott start to date. Rowan dies. Meets Ty Blackwood and finds out they are related. Circle of Khanna.

7th Year: Who tf knows?? :))

ADULTHOOD:

After graduation: Lith goes to become a cursebreaker, taking jobs others would not. She quickly gains a reputation among shady witches and wizards. She lives like this for a year, not having a stable place to stay and traveling from country to country carrying only her backpack. She grows tired of it and decides to drop it all. She goes back to Mexico and moves in with a few muggle roomies. She studies plastic arts at a university and graduates early. She goes back to England to return to her curse breaker activities when Voldemort comes back.

Order of the Phoenix / 2nd Wizarding War: Lith never joins the Order of the Phoenix. She becomes an independent Rescuer, working by herself or for third parties (the Order included) to rescue Undesirables and get them out of the country. She even crafter fake papers to get them out. She does get in contact with members of the Order sometimes, like Carewyn Cromwell, who is one of her main contacts within the Ministry. She fights in the Battle of Hogwarts and saves Talbott’s life after reuniting with him.

Post-War: She decides she has had enough adventures for a while and moves in with Talbott, who quits as an auror and becomes a poet. They get married in a small ceremony which basically was just signing the papers and getting dinner with friends afterwards. After Jacob dies and her nephew Icarus is left orphaned, she takes him in with Talbott and they all move in with Ty at his much bigger home. Lith returns to her curse breaking job to support the whole family, since she doesn’t want Ty to pay for all of their expenses. Charlie moves in too after dating Ty for a while, which was a surprise for all. And they all live together whoo.

Old Age & Death: After retiring definitely, Lith dedicates the rest of her life to art. She even sells some of her works. She paints until her hair starts to turn black and she grows feathers, she paints until her arms don’t obey her anymore. She dies on her bed, with her precious Companion resting on her chest, as they both merge together, accompanied by Talbott, Icarus and her loved ones.

MISC

When they were children, Jacob lost one of his fangs during a sudden transformation and a collision with the door. Lith keeps it as a necklace charm and gifted Jacob one of her own feathers. Because of this, she believes the first black quill is the one he carried as a necklace charm too.

Before they start dating, Lith gives Talbott one of her feathers, which he wears alongside her mother’s. Lith also wears one of his as a necklace, but when she grows older she turns it into an earring. This is one of the reasons why people believe they were already together.

Lith has a habit of drawing on her skin, which is why she sometimes has her legs covered in little doodles. She later starts drawing on her friends.

She hoards art supplies.

She is a gambling addict, so she will get intense during exploding snap games. She knows a lot of card games from her Mother’s side of the family, challenge her at your own risk.

She never learned how to drive.

She learned a bit of mexican magic from her cousins, who attended Aztlán (the mexican wizarding school) created by @tsikuri.

She definitely sings in the shower, but not during her Hogwarts years.

Her taste in music is broad, listening to almost anything except banda.

She has a sweet tooth and cannot stand spicy food, causing the teasing from her whole family, who all, as proud Mexicans, eat chili with everything.

After she graduates, her schedule shifts entirely. She wakes up at 2 pm and goes to sleep at 3 am.

Her love languages are physical touch, but she is too shy and hyper aware to actually approach people and touch them, and gifts.  

If you give her food, you will now be on her “Good human, Angel from Heaven :-:” list. 

Her wand core comes from a bird that can predict death and misfortune, this curiously can be linked to her manifestation of the curse.

Most people think her new wand is ugly, and she did too. But she had to carve it herself to obtain it from an old Mexican wandmaker. The form is also inspired in the flower from the wand wood tree.Lucky: For some reason, Lith has super good luck for the most trivial things, like managing to get a cauldron just before Potions class starts because she forgot hers. She assumes it must be the universe’s compensation for cursing her.

[thebadgerclan]

Cure

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader (Marauders Era)

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Y/N is tired of seeing Remus suffer...

Seeing the love of your life in pain was hell, being unable to do anything about it was much, much worse.  Every month you waited by the gates of the castle with bandages, medicines, and open arms, waiting for Remus.  It shattered your heart into a million pieces to see him hurting so badly, and every month you wondered if there was something you could do about it.  One day, as you were skimming your potions book, it hit you.

If you were able to combine the basic uses of the ingredients found in healing potions and combine them with Wolfsbane, then maybe…...maybe.  You leapt to your feet, startling Remus out of his daze.  “What’s wrong?”  “Nothing,” you answered, your brain already racing.  “I just had an idea.”  You slung your bag over your shoulder and ran out of the Great Hall for the dungeons.  “Professor Slughorn!” you called.  The stout man turned around, smiling.  “Y/N!  Whatever can I do for you?”  

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” you said.  “But I have a theory.  I think that I might be able to create a cure for lycanthropy.”  Slughorn gawked.  “That is very ambitious Miss L/N, how sure are you of this?”  “Very, sir.  All I need is access to ingredients.”  You were at the top of your class, so Slughorn was very confident that in your hands, this was a real possibility.  “Alright Miss L/N, my private lab in 2 doors down, the password is ‘pineapple’.”  “Thank you sir!”

You ran down the hall and eagerly got to work.  The first batch failed, as you expected.  The test you divised was simple: feed a small dropper of the potion to a common rat.  If it lived, the potion wouldn’t work, if it dies, it could be tested on a werewolf.  On the next try, you added the main ingredients in Strengthening Solution to your original concoction.  The rat lived, and you vanished the contents of the cauldron.

It took 5 more batches over the course of a week before you had any semblance of success.  The rat eagerly drank the potion before falling over, stiff.  “Oh my god!” you exclaimed to the empty room.  You bottled the potion, sprinting to Dumbledore’s office.  “Professor Dumbledore, can I talk to you sir?”  He smiled and folded his half-moon spectacles on his desk.  “Of course Y/N, come in!”  You sat in front of his desk, setting the potion on top.  

“Sir, this is a potential cure for lycanthropy.  It’s passed the initial trial, and now I need to find a willing werewolf to try it.”  “This,” he said, examining the bottle.  “Is amazing.  How did you manage this?”  You explained your process and testing procedures, enjoying his shock.  “Absolutely brilliant.  And you require my help with….?”  “I need to find a willing werewolf to see if it truly works.”  “What about Mister Lupin?”  “It’s a surprise for him, actually.”  “Ahh, young love.  As it so happens, I have someone in mind.  I shall owl him and let you know of his response.”  “Thank you so much, sir!”

***

Thomas Albertson arrived at Hogwarts the day before the full moon.  “We have a student who makes use of the Shrieking Shack,” Dumbledore explained.  “But if Miss L/N’s potion works, there will be no need for it.”  “It may be painful,” you said, handing Thomas the bottle.  “But it’ll be worth it, I hope.”  He placed a hand on your shoulder.  “If this works, I along with the entire wizarding world will be forever in your debt.”  He mock toasted you and downed the potion.  

As he swallowed, he screamed, dropping to his knees.  He was in immense pain, pulling at his hair.  When the pain subsided, he stood.  “Now we wait.”  Dumbledore then took you to the Room of Requirement, which was a replica of the Shrieking Shack with a small barricaded area for you and Dumbledore to wait.  There was also a glass ceiling, the moonlight shining through.  All three of you tensed when the moon reached her peak, then…… nothing.  Thomas was as he was when he arrived that afternoon.  He was smiling, laughing with ecstasy.

He ran to you, pulling you into a hug.  “Thank you!  Thank you so much!  Whatever can I do to repay you?”  You smiled at the man, basking in his joy.  “Just one thing; keep this a secret until next month.  My boyfriend is a werewolf and I made this for him.  Of course I’ll make the recipe public, but I want him to be surprised.”  Thomas nodded.  “I understand.  I am forever in your debt, Y/N L/N.”

***

The following full moon approached not with the usual anxiety and fear, but with anticipation.  You’d told Remus that you found something to make his transitions easier, but didn’t tell him what.  So, on the eve of the full moon, you, Remus, Sirius, and James set out for the Whomping Willow.  You crawled through the tunnel to the shack and situated Remus before you took the bottle from your bag.  “Drink this.”  “What is it?”  “This is the cure for lycanthropy.”  

Remus looked at you as if you had four heads. “Y/N, I love you, but that’s really not funny.”  You sat next to him, taking his hands.  “It’s not a joke,” you said, pulling a letter from your bag.  “This is from Thomas Albertson.  He was the first human I gave this potion to. He was a werewolf, but this cured him.  I made this for you, I couldn’t stand seeing you in pain.”  “R-really?”  “Really.  I will warn you, it is painful, but only for about a minute.”  “I love you so much, I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”

“Anything, Rem.”  He drank the potion and handed you the empty bottle.  He stood and began pacing.  Sirius jumped when the first scream left his mouth.  “What’s happening?”  “This is normal,” you reassured.  After a minute, Remus stood, slightly shaky.  “What do we do now?”  “We have to wait for the moon to hit its peak.”  Remus then began pacing anxiously.  You sat alongside James and Sirius.  You briefly thought of Thomas and his first restful full in who knows how long

The moon shone through the windows, hitting its peak.  Remus braced for the pain he knew he’d feel, but it never came.  He turned to you, you had tears in your eyes and you were smiling.  “It worked,” you whispered as Remus pulled you into his arms, kissing you.  “It worked!  Y/N, thank you so much!  I can’t tell you enough how much this means to me!  I love you so much, I love you, I love you, I love you!”  He spun around while holding you, laughing jubilantly.  “Let’s go,” you heard James say to Sirius.  “Let them have this.”

***

Thousands of reporters from all over the world were crammed into the Great Hall.  Dumbledore had announced your discovery, and you were to speak to them.  Remus was by your side, as was Thomas.  “Nervous?” Remus asked you.  “A little.”  “You’ll do great.”  Dumbledore stepped up to the podium.  “I am pleased to introduce Y/N L/N, a 6th year Y/H who has created the cure for lycanthropy!”  You stood to raucous applause, trying to keep your breathing in check.  Remus stood as well, gripping your hand.

“Thank you, Professor.  What drew me to start working on this was my boyfriend, Remus.  I couldn’t stand seeing him suffer, so I decided to do something about it.  Thomas was the first person to be cured, Remus was the second.  The only reason that Remus was not first was that I wanted it to be a surprise.  And it was.  I am proud to say that I will be publishing the recipe for the potion, it will be available to anyone who needs it at no cost. Thank you.”

You stepped back, Remus kissing you softly.  “I’m so proud of you, Y/N, I love you so much.”   “I love you too.  Do we need a new nickname for you now?  ‘Moony’ isn’t really applicable anymore.”  Remus laughed.  “I don’t think so, love.  That one’s stuck with me, like you are.”  He kissed you again, and you heard the reporter’s cameras going off, but at the moment, you didn’t really care.

[callwrites]

BENEATH THE WILLOW TREE: Chapter II

This is, at some level, a love story. But before Andromeda’s name was burned from the tapestry of her family tree, before she took Ted’s name and Ted’s ring, she was Andromeda Black; a girl caught between worlds. This is the story of how that came to be.

Chapter I.

read on a03 @Linquist

The feast was as delicious as ever, though the meal passed with a strange tension that could not totally be accounted for - either by Lucius’s scowl or Bellatrix’s complaints about the new Defense professor. Both Andromeda and Rodolphus struggled to find their footing; both were caught up in remembering his earlier conversation, with one of them pretending they hadn’t heard it.

“You’re not having dessert?” Rodolphus attempted to smile, seeing Andromeda refraining from the treacle tart she normally enjoyed.

“No, I’m headed to the greenhouses after this. I don’t want Professor Sprout to have to roll me out,” joked Andromeda weakly.

“You’re still doing that?” Bellatrix sighed.

“I told you last night I was,” said Andromeda a little defensively. “Professor Sprout got new Venomous Tentacula pods in last week and needs help repotting them - or else they’re liable to try to take a bite out of the third years tomorrow.”

“I think what Bellatrix means …” said Rodolphus with a sharp look at her older sister, “is that we’re just surprised you want to spend your first night back at the castle elbow-deep in manure.”

“You’re not going to be keeping that up after this year, will you?” Lucius asked skeptically.

“I was planning on it,” said Andromeda, trying to keep the sharpness out of her tone. “I like the greenhouses. And herbology is very helpful for potionwork.”

“And you’re very talented at both,” went on Rodolphus in a diplomatic tone. It irked Andromeda, despite the caring words she had overheard. “But surely you can learn what you need from books. You can afford to buy the ingredients for your potions … without dirt involved.”

“Especially with a professor like her ,” added Bellatrix. “I understand you enjoy your studies, but you need to think about the appearance of things.”

Lucius was smirking and it made Andromeda want to knock the platter of treacle tart into his face. But losing her cool benefited no one - especially when Bellatrix apparently already had her own doubts.

“Well, I’m confident that the appearance of things will improve after my O.W.L. results,” she managed to say, pushing back from the table. “With five prefects, I’m sure you’re well able to handle the first years and I’ll be back in time for curfew.”

“Andie,” Rodolphus murmured quietly, taking her hand as she stood.

“Good night,” she said a little coolly. She took a deep breath and softened her tone. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll show you that piece if you’re still up.”

“It’s a date,” he said with a smile.

“It’s a date,” she agreed, unable to keep back her own smile.

She ignored Lucius’s snort, returned Bellatrix’s good night, and left the Great Hall.

Outside of the feast, the entrance hall was empty. Dessert was still underway and spirits remained high. Andromeda met no resistance as she made her way to the enormous doors of the castle and pushed her way through. The grounds were almost too dark to see, but she knew her way to the greenhouses by heart.

In the distance, the windows of the caretaker’s hut glowed warmly and, not for the first time, Andromeda wondered about the strange man who lived there. He had once found her lost as a first year and kindly helped her find the Great Hall - Bellatrix had lectured her for close to half an hour after coldly dismissing him. Her mother had then written to inform her that she was not to speak to him.

There was no time to dwell. A light was on in greenhouse three, the door kept ajar by an empty pot. Andromeda stepped inside, shuffling in a bouncing bulb making a daring escape, and closed the door behind her.

“Evening, Black,” Professor Sprout said cheerfully. “How was the feast?”

“Good evening, professor,” Andromeda replied, taking the dragon-hide gloves that had been set aside for her. “It was delicious as usual. How was your summer?”

“Busy!” She grinned. “But come on, these tentacula won’t re-pot themselves.”

Andromeda dutifully lined up beside Sprout, who stood before a low table that boasted about a dozen young and teething venomous tentacula. With a practiced hand, Andromeda pulled one towards her, distracting it with a gloved finger while she grabbed the larger pot and soil.

“Our 6th years will be raising them and learning how to harvest them for ingredients,” she explained in her usual cheerful tone. “They’re not too deadly yet, but once they’re trying to strangle us we'll know they're ready to go.”

“I can see that,” Andromeda said bemusedly, using her elbow to knock away a vine that was reaching suspiciously towards her.

Professor Pomona Sprout had only been teaching at Hogwarts for a year. She had arrived, in a flurry of enthusiasm and rare plants, when the wizened old herbology professor retired with most of his remaining fingers. Bellatrix had immediately distrusted her, despite not having continued with herbology herself (she was of the opinion that a witch should not be elbow deep in dragon dung). But Professor Sprout had seen Andromeda’s deft hand and noticed her frequent after hours visits to the greenhouses. She began giving her ‘extra credit’ assignments and slowly introducing her to the N.E.W.T. level plants she kept in the corners of greenhouse three. When Andromeda showed a more careful hand than some of her seventh years, she began to invite her to assist with some of the prep work for those classes.

Bellatrix hardly approved and Andromeda was sure their mother would not either. Professor Sprout was pureblood, they were reasonably sure, but she hardly acted like it. She was a Hufflepuff, for one - a house known for blood traitors and muggleborns. She embodied everything that Druella Black would consider ‘inappropriate’ for pureblood behavior; from the way she dressed, to the way she talked, to the way she had kicked out Rabastan Lestrange on her very first day. He had called someone a mudblood and been immediately been given detention and sent to Slughorn. Despite Bellatrix's misgivings, she had chosen not to write to their mother about her concerns - so long, of course, as Andromeda remained appropriate boundaries.

The two never talked about personal things or politics. In fact, Sprout and Andromeda rarely talked at all. They settled into their routine, as usual, and enjoyed the companionable silence with the occasional crunching of dead rats fed to the hungry plants.

As they potted the last one, Andromeda patted it soothingly. It made a low contented growl while it gnawed sleepily on a rat. Sprout stepped away from the table with a satisfied sigh.

“That’ll do then, Black,” She said with a smile. “The 6th years will be able to analyze and feed them for the next few weeks before they’ll need to re-pot them again. You did good.”

“Thank you, professor,” Andromeda said softly, stepping out of the reach of the vines and taking off her gloves. “I appreciate you letting me help.”

“Made my job easier,” she said with her eye crinkling smile. “Are you still interested in taking on the wiggentree?”

Andromeda nodded and  went to hang up the gloves. "I've been doing my reading and I'll get started next class. I'll need to get my prefect schedule before I can plan my greenhouse visits."

"Excellent, excellent," said Sprout from behind her, sounding satisfied. “You should start thinking about your N.E.W.T. special project.”

Andromeda turned around, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“It is early,” Sprout admitted. “But do some thinking. With your record, I could convince Dumbledore to bring in some rarer plants for you.”

“I don’t know if I will be continuing herbology,” confessed Andromeda, leaving Sprout looking surprised.

“Why not?” She asked, hands on her hips again. “You’ve the greenest thumb at Hogwarts, ‘sides me. And it seems you like the plants as much as they like you.”

Andromeda flushed and opened her mouth to answer, but found herself hesitating. She found she didn’t want to tell Sprout that her family didn’t think it was befitting for a daughter of Black. She didn’t want to put down the professor who had supported her or the subject she loved.

“Think about it,” said Sprout in a gentler tone. “I can recommend some books to you and you can do some research. You’re a talented witch, Black. You’ve got more options than you think you do.”

She nodded, face burning, and fled the greenhouse. Out on the grounds, a slight chill in the air stung her heated cheeks. In the distance, a lantern bobbed along the edge of the Forbidden forest; illuminating the caretaker on some errand. She didn’t think about her curiosity. She found she didn’t want to think at all actually. Sprout had meant her words kindly, but Andromeda found they festered uncomfortably in the back of her throat.

She made her way to the common room in a bit of a daze. The familiar path to the dungeon was one she could take in her sleep. Thankful she had the password as a prefect, she slipped into the Slytherin common room with ten minutes to spare.

Bellatrix sat in the armchair by the fire, feet tucked up beside her and looking very cozy. When she saw Andromeda enter, she checked her name off the list in her lap. Then her nose wrinkled as the smell of dragon dung manure hit her.

“Gross, Meda,” she complained and Andromeda grinned.

“Oh, come on, Bella,” she teased. “Why don’t we curl up and read together, just like old times?”

“Clean up and I’ll think about,” she sneered, but Andromeda heard the affection in her sister’s voice and recognized her struggle not to smile.

“Narcissa already headed to bed?” She asked and Bella nodded.

“She starts ancient runes tomorrow and was positively vibrating with excitement,” she explained, affection much more apparent now. “She said the sooner she went to bed, the sooner she could go to class.”

“Teacher's pet,” Andromeda smiled, happy for their youngest sister.

“At least she chose better than you did,” said Bellatrix pointedly.

“I took ancient runes too! And arithmancy.” She said, crossing her arms.

“Yes, and I also remember mother almost going into hysterics when she found out you also signed up for divination ,” said her oldest sister distastefully.

“You just don’t like that I spent all year predicting your demise,” she grinned.

“Yes, some seer you turned out to be,” said Bellatrix with a roll of her eyes, but she was smiling again. “Go wash off. You reek.”

Andromeda was smiling when she finally made her way towards the stairs, passing by the piano against the wall. A note sat on it, in Rodolphus’s neat handwriting.

Raincheck? It read.

She summoned a quill and scrawled a quick ‘it’s a date’ and left it there, before hurrying up the stairs. The smell was starting to get to her too.

Her housemates were up and swapping stories about their summers when she finally arrived. They paused long enough to greet her and wrinkle their noses at the smell. She waved off their invitation to join them, explaining she just wanted to go to bed as soon as she washed up.

Soon enough, she was pulling closed the curtains of her four poster and falling into bed beside an already sleeping Valerian. But she found she didn’t feel tired at all. Her thoughts were buzzing, unwilling to let her rest. She thought about the conversation she had overheard between Rodolphus and Bella. Why was Bella worried? Especially about what he thought of her?

She could understand why Rodolphus would have concerns, but he seemed as sure of her as ever. She had never stepped out of line, but for the once. And Rod had promised to keep her secret.

You’ve got more options than you think you do, she heard Sprout’s voice.

She rolled over, trying to drown it out, and punched her pillow. No, she didn’t. And she didn’t want them either. She’d be Bella and Cissa’s sister. Eventually, she would be Rodolphus’s wife.

She didn’t want any other options, she told herself. She didn’t.

[nad-zeta]

Match up | (• ◡•)| (❍ᴥ❍ʋ)

heya!! tysm again fr the ikesen matchup, i loved it sm ♡ sooo now could i pls get a matchup for ikevamp, if its ok? 💞 (ps i hope ur doin ok!!) here’s the info again!!

bi girl, i prefer guys! ambiverted intp, gryffindor or ravenclaw, neutral good, scorpio. i have an older twin sis n i love/hate her sm!!

medium-length straight-ish black hair (side bang to the right) & dark brown eyes!! 5'5-ish, filipina! im getting glasses soon~

complex daydreamer- i crave affirmation/praise!! anxiety, i overthink sm! quiet w/ others cause idk what to say. im like half funny/playful & half deep/awkward- easily annoyed but guilty after cause im soft-hearted. i have a way w/ words, poetic? hopeless romantic! i tend to be quite chaotic? sorta socially anxious-

not innocent/naive but ppl think so at 1st! i look fine but im a big mess. superiority complex, insecure- smart n knowledgeable. passionate! a kid w/ my twin but w/ others, mature. its hard to friend ppl! dramatic but rather closed off. its hard for me to ask fr help- opinionated but i try to understand. i need lots of space,,,

i like to have fun n loosen up but would also just cuddle n have long convos. forgive but never forget- realist but rather optimistic. good w/ technology! imaginative/creative. near-sighted! rather selfish, i put myself 1st. love language is words of affirmation/quality time- stubborn! observant- sensitive.

a habit- i tend to drift away n just think? i care a lot abt how i look! i like bein the best so i get competitive. keyboard smashes!! i swear quite often. i like bein organised! i like makin faces!!

fun fact: math/history r my faves. sometimes im rlly hyper n say the most random things? i fear judgement, future, unknown, n failure. bilingual, learnin french! fr pda only hand-holding?

likes: gaming, affection, jokes (stupid/puns), space (stars), weapons (swords/guns), music, instruments (piano), animals, movies, books, philosophy, psychology, writing, exhilirating stuff, astronomy, mythology, etc.

dislikes: heat, presentations, naivety, stupidity, blind faith, stereotypes, being pressured, etc.

tysm!! shjsjsjs i changed it a bit- anyway, stay safe!! dont forget to take care of urself 💞

Hehe, you are most welcome dear!🥰❤🌻 I’m so happy you sent in another request! You are honestly so sweet! ❤🥰Soz for taking sooo long! I hope you enjoy this dear and I hope you are looking after yourself! Sending lots o hugs! 🌻❤ @x-joie-x

So I match you with………….. Napoleon

The first time Napoleon meets you was when he legit grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him, as he tried to get you out of the mansion. It was not safe for a human in a mansion full of vampire, and this soldier wanted to get you out before it was too late. But alas it was just that, too late. By the time the two of you had arrived at the door from whence u came, it was sealed shut, and no amount of tugging or pulling could get it to open.

Comte, who had heard the commotion, stepped into the hallway to see you and Napoleon trying to open the door. He strode over to you and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder as he led you and the soldier to his study so he could explain. After a lengthy explanation about your current situation he named Napoleon as your personal bodyguard to help you navigate, the Paris of the past

To say you were starting to overthink and get anxious would be an understatement. Napo looked over at your quiet demeanour and scanned your face to find a glimpse of anxiety. After the conversation with Comte was over, Sabastion came to escort you to your room for the night.

The next few days you spent cooped up in your room. Too anxious to leave, u needed time and space to sort through your feelings. 

Your stomach started grumbling, but you just ignored it, cause honesty you were just too stubborn to go downstairs and ask for help. Napo had been pacing outside your door, trying to figure out the best way to coax you from your room. That’s when he heard the rumble coming from your stomach. He gently opens the door and strode into your room, “come nunuche, I made too many pancakes this morning, And I need some help finishing them.” Just as you were about to refuse your stomach gave another loud growl, cue Napoleon bursting out into laughter, “I think its best we feed that little bear before it gets angry.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Napo, as the soldier went from scary and intimidating to boyish and playful in 0.2 seconds. You smiled as you watch the former Emporer of France try to catch his breath through his full body laughter fit. He finally calmed down and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the dining room. A new fit of laughter erupted from the man as you couldn’t help but crack a joke on your way there. The rest of the afternoon was spent cracking jokes and eating pancakes.

Napo found you incredibly amusing, especially how you could go from funny and playful, to awkward in 2 seconds flat. He loved to joke along with you and then tease you whenever you would turn into an awkward mess the second one of the other residents entered into the room. 

Especially Arthur, you would often get annoyed at his flirty comments and pick up lines, you absolutely left Napo in stitches when you made a sarcastically awkward comment back to Arthur on afternoon. Napo had learned by now that you were actually rather soft-hearted so the minute he saw the guilt flash across your eyes for being annoyed at Arthur’s comments, he squeezed your hand in reassurance, “don’t feel guilty nunuche, trust me he deserves it. Plus if you don’t believe me, just ask Isaac.”

Napoleon would invite you with him every day to help teach the children at his makeshift school. At first, you were somewhat socially awkward, but thanks to Napoleon and Isaac’s encouragement, you actually started teaching a class of your own. Napo loved how smart and passionate you were. You gave your all in teaching the children various topics, and honestly, Napo couldn’t help but fall in love with you. You taught them everything from maths to history, and the children absolutely adored you. So did Napoleon tbh, the man would take sneaky glances just watching you in your element. When stealing these little glances of you, a lovestruck foolish smile would dance across his face, which most certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Isaac or the children.

After class, Isaac would go off to his second job as a professor of the University, leaving you and Napoleon up to your own devices. Napoleon seemed to bring out that playful side of you, as the two of you goofballs would grab lunch at a nearby cafe. Or have a little picnic in the park, and just spend the entire time quick-firing stupid puns and jokes at each other. You sometimes get super hyper and start saying random words, which leads the two of you to have loads of random conversations. And TBH the two of you are always pulling silly faces at each other just for laughs. You live for those moments when u make a joke or pull a face, and monsieur de Whaha starts erupting with laughter. It is a true sight to behold, the way his whole body shakes, and the sight alone is enough to prompt you into your own laughing fit.

The day Napoleon knew you were the one and only woman for him, was the day he found you in the training hall. You loved swords and weapons so when you were helping Sebastian with housework one day, and you came across a vast display of swords, you were absolutely ecstatic. You wasted no time in picking up one of the swords and swishing it around. Napoleon walked into the room just as you pick up one of the swords and his eyes went wide, “pfft what in the world are you doing?” You narrowed your eyes at the man, as he chuckled, “practising, obviously.” 

Napoleon’s eyes lit up as he strode past you to pick up a sword of his own, “then I shall be your partner.” You smiled a broad smile as you went on the offensive and attacked Napoleon. The two of you spent the next few hours smack-talking each other as you fought. Napoleon enjoyed every moment of your fight and the way you were determined to win. He found that competitive side of you rather sexy, so much so that he decided to confess his feelings.

After you had beaten him, he proposed a rematch, but this time he raised the stakes. He went on the offensive, and just before delivering the final blow, he dropped his sword and grabbed hold of you. Smouldering jade blue eyes met your brown ones questioningly, and once he found his answer, he leaned down to kiss you.

The former emperor of France was utterly head over heels for your stubborn optimistic, competitive personality. He absolutely adored what a walking contradiction you were, being both a realist and optimistic, being organized yet messy at the same time. Napoleon had noticed early on in your relationship that you were rather closed off and slowly, but surely he managed to get you to open up to him. The two of you have had many a deep conversation while cuddling. 

He found that whenever you were snuggled in his arm, it was easy to pry information out of you. Especially when he would tickle you. He found out a lot during his cuddle interrogation sessions like how you feared judgement, the unknown future and failure, like how you actually care about your appearance and that you have a superiority complex. None of which scared him off, if anything he loved you more for it! Being sure to curb and banish all your insecurities with the sweetest words of affirmation and praise.

Napo like you, is also a bit of a romantic so this dork will 100% plan dates under the stars, especially after he found out about your love for astronomy and space/stars. He will definitely plan small quiet dates for the two of you, away from the loudness of the mansion. This boi will burst into your room in the afternoon, drag you to the stables, plonk you on top of a hose and before you know it you are sitting in his arms reading or chatting about anything from philosophy to psychology under the shade of a willow tree, surrounded by flowers.

Napo loves your writing, and this boi will insist you read him your fics whenever you finish them. He will spend the next ten days bragging about how amazing your writing skills are to everyone, even going as far as to say your a much better writer than Arthur. 

Knows you need space and alone time and will give you as much as it as you need. He knows you will come and find him once you want some company again. And once you do seek him out, he will crush you in a warm embarrass and whisk you off on some exhilarating adventure.

Mornings between the two of you sweethearts consist of soft, heart-melting moments. Naturally, the first thing Napo does when he wakes up is, plant a loving kiss on your lips. He will tighten his embrace around you as he cracks open his eyes to wish you a good morning all while nuzzling your neck. He knows you are a sucker for sweet words so he will be whispering the sweetest of endearments to you, in between lazy morning kisses. Best be sure this boy will complement and praise you every single day of your life.

Other potential matches…………….. Dazai

I hope you enjoyed this dear! 🌞🌻and I hope you have a super good day! ❤❤🌻

[mylittleotomecorner]

Rainy Day Care Lucien x MC Rating: aww

I finally leave the office. We’ve been pulling late nights to get the proposals done for the next project and finished with little time to spare. Kiki and Willow wanted to get drinks, Minor insisting he check my drinks like last time, but I had to turn them down. I wanted to go home, relax and refresh myself before the next proposal meeting. Walking home, I planned to stop at the store and get a few things to fix for a quick dinner. The air was crisp and the night was calm… until something hit my forehead. 

“Huh?” I look up and a few raindrops hit me as drizzle slowly began to fall. I walked briskly to the store and make it inside just before the downpour came. Sighing as I looked outside, I muttered, “There wasn’t any forecast for rain…” With nothing else to do, I grab a shopping basket and wander the store for the things I wanted for dinner.

Once I have all I need, I looked around to see if there were any umbrellas for sale. When asked, the clerk said they ran out and I was left to wonder how long I would have to wait. Paying for my items, I decided to wait outside and see if the rain will lighten up enough to walk home. 

The awning was large enough and a few others waited as well. The clerk said we could wait inside if we got cold. Time passed, the other people waiting eventually left to take their chances or found friends that so happened to pass by. I heave a heavy sigh. “At this rate, I’ll never get home…”

“[___], are you waiting for someone?” Turning to the voice that spoke to me, there was Lucien holding an umbrella and a look of gentle concern. 

I must look like a wet rat to him. Looking me over, it felt like he must. “I didn’t know it was going to rain so I didn’t bring an umbrella. I was just on my way home.”

“And you went grocery shopping hoping it will stop?” I nodded, feeling pretty pathetic. I’m sure I look it. But all I got from Lucien was a smile and an offered hand. “Let me to take you home and carry your things.”

“Thank you, Lucien. I’ll be okay carrying them while we walk.” I smile as I join him under the umbrella. 

Still with that smile, he wrapped a warm arm around my shoulders. “I suppose this will have to do. I didn’t realize it might be a tight fit under here since I don’t walk with anyone in the rain. Maybe that might change. I hope you don’t mind.” I can feel the flush rise on my cheeks and I shook my head no, too afraid my heart might jump out of my throat. I didn’t have to look up to know his smile was there shining down on me as he held me close to him the whole way home. I was grateful for the warmth as I didn’t realize how cold I was. I hope he didn’t notice the shivering as I shifted the bags in my hands. 

“I must be lucky that you’re living right next door,” I say as we reach our floor.

“Yes, though, I won’t always be there to take you home.” Lucien sounded worried as he took his keys out. “Why don’t you join me for some tea. Maybe we can even share dinner? I just want to make sure you didn’t catch cold after getting caught in the rain.”

“Oh, it’s okay, really,” I say in objection. “I feel fi-choo!” I sniffles and rub my nose. 

A hand goes to my forehead and more concern grows on Lucien’s face. “You’re burning up a little. Come in. No arguments.”

Darn, I just had to make myself a burden. Obeying, I enter his apartment as I hold my bags in both hands. It’s still the same as I last saw it, hardly lived in since he’s always away at the lab working on some research project. Lucien closed the door and took my bags. “I think we can save these for another time. I’ll order us something.”

“Really, I-“ A slender finger was placed on my lips and my wide eyes went to the owner. His smile was one of comfort and gentleness. 

“No arguments, remember?” That look made me feel so safe somehow and I merely nodded. He then went and placed my groceries in his fridge and took his mobile to order takeout. He looked up and frowned. “You need a hot bath and a change of clothes.”

I forgot my clothes had gotten damp from the rain and look at them. “They seem okay. I could just-“

“I’ll draw you a bath and give you some spare clothes. It’s no trouble.” There he goes, to draw a bath and get me clothes. Wait… spare clothes… his clothes?! What about my damp ones?! I’m mortified and embarrassed and other things mixed into one moment. How could this have happened to me…

*****

Freshly bathed, I feel really embarrassed to have to wear a man’s large shirt as a gown. The sweatpants he gave me were so long, I had to roll the cuffs up. It made me feel like a little kid. Lucien is somewhere on his phone. I can hear him talking to someone so I’m left to take a seat on the couch. Somehow, the need to hug a pillow was there. I grab a throw pillow and held it in my arms. 

“That is one lucky pillow.” Lucien had come over with a blanket in his arms. “If only to know how that pillow feels…” How can he say that with that smile of his? My cheeks flamed up and I try to hide behind the pillow.  I even tried tucking my legs under, feeling greatly exposed. “Here, this will be much warmer than that pillow. It’s just a simple throw, but I can get you something heavier if you’re feeling cold.” He held it open and it was big enough for two people. 

“What about you? Will you be alright? Were you in the rain long?” I couldn’t help but worry that if I was caught in the rain that he was as well. I took the blanket, trying not to shiver despite the warm bath I took. But, our hands grazed each other so he must have felt how cold my fingers were. His were exceptionally icy so that made me even more worried.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Let’s just get you settled in. Food should be here soon.” No sooner was the throw on my lap did the doorbell rang. “That should be it now.” He went to answer the door and returned with a large bag of takeout. He moved the coffee table closer and set the bag down. Out came containers of soup and dumplings. “I figured you would want something simple and maybe got a little hungry?”

My stomach replied with a loud growl just as I opened my mouth. I snapped my mouth shut and wished I could be swallowed up by the cough. All Lucien did was chuckle lightly and take out more dumplings. How does this man know how to take care of me? “I’ll have to repay you for all this food.”

“Nonsense,” he said once everything was set. “I’m just happy to have a meal with you.” 

I smile, now not sure if I have a fever or feel embarrassed that this is seeming like a date. Shifting so I can have my soup, I blurt out, “This kinda feels like a date.”

Lucien was passing a container of dumplings my way, that smile ever present on his lips as he set the container before me. “A date? Hmmm, I’ll have to get you flowers next time I take you home for dinner then.” The hot soup was as good a cover as I was going to get as I avoided looking at the scientist neighbor and try to determine how to feel about all these comments. Again, he chuckles. “You look adorable,” he said before sipping his own container of soup. “Had I known you could make my clothes look so cute, I might hope you’d get caught in the rain more.” 

“Huh?” Did I hear him right? Not paying attention, I burn my lip on the hot broth. “Ah, hot…”

“Here, let me cool that off for you.” Lucien took the spoon from me and moved to sit closer, practically shoulder to shoulder with the professor. He scooped up the broth and blew on it, steam being blown away. “Here,” the spoon was brought close to my mouth and I froze, looking between spoon and wielded. “You need your strength. You won’t have this opportunity to be fed by a world renowned professor, after all.” Knowing he would say I couldn’t take care of myself, I caved in and allowed Lucien to feed me. All the while, he wore that worried smile. “So cute,” he muttered. I blamed the soup for my face feeling so hot. 

The rest of the night was spent watching movies on Lucien’s tablet until I fell asleep. I think I protested staying the night but all I remember was feeling lifted into the air before I lost consciousness. 

**********

Lucien had made sure the movie they watched was something [___] liked. He honestly didn’t know since he never had time to even think about dating. His life was spent with his work. But there was something about her that made him think outside his usual boundaries. Somehow, he felt the desire to keep her safe. 

When he saw her outside, taking shelter from the rain, he knew right away that she was so focused on her own work that she didn’t think to get an umbrella. As she began to doze, Lucien brushed hair from her brow as she leaned slightly against him. Soft fringes fell against warm skin as he felt her forehead. “Hmm, you’re burning up,” 

The only reaction he got was a slight shift and a sigh. The movie had been playing all this time, but no one was paying attention to it. The person it was meant for has fallen asleep and the person that provided it was more interested in watching the other sleep peacefully. 

Before the movie was over, Lucien carefully lifted [___] into his arms as if she were as light as a doll and carried her into the bedroom. There, she was placed on the bed and tucked in for the night. He left her there, door ajar, and returned to the living room where he closed the movie app and opened some research material. It would be a long night and he wanted to make sure he was awake in case she needed him again. 

[thatwritingcorneroftheinter-blog]

The Mistery of William Faraday

The characters in the following story - with the exception of Jonathan Caldwell, Elizabeth Caldwell and Dr. Willows - are original from  Nerdcast, a brazilian podcast about all the nerd things (and RPG), mainly from the episode 549 - Call of Cthulhu 1: The Mistery of William Faraday.

As I write this down, I cannot believe I have been lead to do so. It is a strange story and if those words have any capability of translating what that night in the Newcastle Asylum was, so be it.

This story starts at Thomas E. Faraday’s home, an immense old English mansion, located at the very heart of London’s aristocracy nest. 

It was 1936, and the horrors of the World War were not yet out of the good men’s mind. Still, we used to gather together at least once a year so that those memories could remain just memories instead of terrible cases of mental and body illness.

Every year, my husband and I would leave our home in Rye to meet with our comrades - or rather his comrades. Jonathan was one of the many men who fought the World War and by the time it was over, the trenches had given him good friends and horrifying stories to share with them. 

Those meetings were not always merry in the ways their memories used to lead, but Jonathan needed them, as much as I needed them to keep Jonathan sane. So, I accompanied my husband for as long as he could, given the state of his leg injury, one of the many wounds that the War had left behind; being cut in the thigh by a treacherous enemy who had slipped under the camp’s barriers, Jonathan was never again able to walk without his cane and the conditions of the injury would not get better with time. 

Eventually we were no longer allowed to travel away from home by Dr. Willows, which brought our friends to Rye two years in a row. However, third time was not a charm and Jonathan passed away, leaving me in a cold stone manor in the middle of nowhere, alone and unsupported. 

At that time, turning to my own family was not an option, for they had never been too keen about my marriage with Jonathan; in their eyes, Jonathan’s low quantities of material possessions were certain proof of my lack of self-respect. The only ones that could continue to support me were Jonathan’s friends. My friends.

So there we were, gathered once again - this time in London, at Faraday’s. 

Thomas Faraday was a man guided by Reason, with capital R. Professor at the University of Oxford, Faraday would proudly conduct me through corridors and corridors of British science history, discoursing about the novelties in America, with his basset Billy running around his feet. The proud owner of a small belly, Faraday was the absolute embodiment of a good living. I had been with him since Christmas; at the time, as if noticing my unwillingness to return to the country side, Thomas invited me to stay a few more weeks, at least until the meeting, to which I gladly agreed. 

Pleasant reading days and slow walks amongst the trees at the Regent’s Park helped to keep away from my mind the upcoming reunion, the first one without Jonathan. Of course, they were all present at the funeral and aided me into my first days of grief, and surely, they have suspended the next year’s meeting to allow me more time, but they were not without judgment. I had been a widowed woman for nearly two years now, an individual to be reckoned with, and not just Jonathan’s wife anymore. I had no idea if that would change anything between our little strange group, but I was about to discover.

James K. O'Flanagan was strangely the first one to arrive. As Irish as an Irish man can be, O’Flanagan was a man of his own convictions; one could never argue with him without the impression of being left deeply insulted. A former red-haired man, he was now the bearer of a completely gray head and a very thick mustache, laid upon thin and somewhat mordacious lips, which was not able to turn his fit figure any less elegant. As I have mentioned, O’Flanagan had no filter when it came to the Great Britain’s way of life, being a fierce critic and feeding the wildest fire within his guts against the British Empire. Yet, somehow, he had managed to find accordance while being in the same room as Thomas Faraday, the personal representation of a British Golden Era of old family riches. 

Upon O’Flanagan’s arrival, I could smell the Jameson emanating out of his pores. His first step into the Faraday’s mansion was followed by a nod to the butler, handing his wet hat and vest to a steward and sipping from a small liquor flask.

“Mrs. Caldwell! You have made it through this rain!”

O’Flanagan came to me with arms opened, as I did to him. Reaching for a reassuring hug, O’Flanagan kept me inside his arms for quite a while, before Faraday entered the room.

“I have been in London since Christmas, James, there was no need to worry”, I said, unable to retreat my smile towards the enthusiastic man. “Thomas has been a wonderful host, enduring bravely through all my complaints.”

“Quite the opposite, I would argue. You have been the most patient and condescending listener of all, Mrs. Caldwell”, Faraday replied, offering his hand towards the other. “Welcome, O’Flanagan. I take you had some trouble with the big city’s weather.”

“Ay, I had some trouble with the weather, but I would not go so far as calling a shite hole such as London a big city”, O’Flanagan retorted, shaking the offered hand.

“Boys, a little more civility would be desired, yes?”

As I tried to calm the nerves in the front hall, there was a new knock. The butler reached once again for the main hall door, welcoming a tall and slim figure, weathered to his soul. 

Stephen H. P. Venkmman’s round glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing a small quirk when he pushed up the frame with his finger.

“The skies are falling, I say”, Venkmman stated while handing the soaked overcoat to the steward, barely eyeing the boy at all. “Never seen a day in London when I could see the next step in front of me, there is always water gushing from the sky.”

“Oh, but it’s the big city’s weather, Venkmman” taunted O’Flanagan, making room on the large colonial sofa in the main living room. Raising a glass that was already somehow filled with Scotch, the Irish man let out a scornful smile, and drinking slowly from the golden liquid, O’Flanagan lost himself at the bottom of the glass.

Faraday took no more than a few seconds staring at the man sitting on the couch. Crossing the room and heading to the hall, he patted the good doctor on the shoulder.

“Glad to see that you have decided to come, friend. I have not received any news concerning your whereabouts in the last months, so I assumed tha—“

“I have been engaged in my most recent research, Faraday, I do not have time to spare when it comes to science, as you well know. Being as far as Africa goes, I got… caught up with... uh... work.” Venkmman cleared his throat and paced away from the hall.  

Stephen Howard Phillips Venkmman was, above all, a scholar. Graduated and mastered by the University of Oxford in Practical Physics, Venkmman started his academic life teaching and demonstrating the Laws of Nature, to which his interests developed to a more obscure outlook on science and lead him towards studying and researching about Parapsychology and unnatural events. Throughout the last years, Venkmman had been the last one to arrive at our reunions, always apologizing for his delays and never explaining the reasons for such lateness, restraining his narratives to the natural beauties of the uncharted lands he went to in his unknown studies. 

Thomas would survey Venkmman’s works in secret, thinking that his own envy and childish quarrel were well hidden under his politeness and high breeding, but a mindful woman is always able to delve into a man’s ego and I can tell you, Faraday nourished some hatred against Venkmman. Theory versus Practice, Word versus Speech, Study versus Experience. I believed that confrontation to be more than natural in the Academy, given that they were both brilliant professors, however the intellectual strife shed through the Oxfordian walls, creating an endless sensation of unease between them.

Physically, Venkmman was a strange man. He had a long pale face, adorned by round golden glasses, with eyes mostly gazing away from the common focus. His lengthy body gave away the lack of commitment to a routine of physical exercises and his shoulders and back slightly arched forwards indicated nights of heavy reading. Overall, Venkmman was aeons away of being a horrifying creature to look at. The man was nothing more than peculiar.

After the guest and the host had traded subtle sparks, I approached O’Flanagan, circulating around the sofa and resting my weight against its backrest.

“What is your guess this time? The Luba tribe, the Mongo tribe, the Tigrayans, the Maghrebis?”, I questioned, nodding towards Venkmman, who was staring out the window, looking distracted by the flow of the rain. O’Flanagan sighed and drank the last of his whiskey.

“To be quite honest, I could not give any less fucks. The man is insane, dealing with savages, barbaric rituals and whatnot. It does not surprise me all the gibberish that comes out of his mouth.”

“Should you be judging the man? Were you not closing deals on armaments and fumes the last time we spoke?” I walked around O’Flanagan, sitting beside him. “You look insane to me, dealing with savages, contributing with barbaric rituals and whatnots. And the gibberish is called ‘science’, you should get used to it.”

“You amuse me, Mrs. Caldwell. You take me for a man that cares. For all I know, those African tribes could be putting my guns up their arses at this exact moment.” O’Flanagan turned to me with half a smile and took my hand on his calloused one, stroking it. “Your snarky comments have been dearly missed, Elizabeth.”

While we kept on with the amenities, there was one last knock on the door for the night. As we could all guess, it was Giácomo Di Monti, the last one of our small group of survivors. 

Giácomo was an young Italian stud: tall, strong, built as a marble beam, he was on the top of the most influential boxers at the time, with the unbelievable score of no losses over the five years he had been on the business. Giácomo met my deceased husband first, while taking care of the wounded and arranging transportation for the dead. As a church-raised man, Giácomo went to war with the sole purpose of helping those who needed, secured from the real conflict by the Catholic Church, which kept him alive while he tended for the dying ones. Nevertheless, Di Monti saw as much terrors as any other man, witnessing in firsthand the bloodbath and helping Jonathan stitch and sew living and dead bodies.

Giácomo has always been a scenic man, which explains the constant need of shouting and speaking loudly. Entering Faraday’s living room – or any other room, for that matter - the first thing in sight was his broad shoulders, highlighted by the light-colored suit. Born in Italy, the Italian in Giácomo was mainly concentrated on his facial features, giving him a well-defined bone structure and tanned skin. Besides being strikingly handsome, Giácomo Di Monti was a sweet oaf in the way of dealing with people, at least outside the box ring.

“Were you all waiting for me? I'm here now, we can start with the dancing and the celebrating!”

“Unfortunately, times are not auspicious to dancing and rejoicing, my big friend”, Faraday warned, placing briefly his hand on Di Monti’s back. “If you could all take a seat, I have with me news that will require the attention and the sympathy of the whole room.”

(Continues)

[leisurelypanda]

Mundane Miracles (aka, my sermon from this morning)

When I was a child, I believed in miracles. I believed the stories about Jesus healing the sick, feeding thousands of people, bringing the dead back to life, turning water into wine, walking on water, calming stormy seas, and casting out demons from people possessed. I believed that these were what miracles were, things that only God could accomplish, things that could only be achieved by having some kind of divine blessing.

As a child, I also believed that people followed God because Jesus did cool stuff. Jesus was extraordinary and did things no one else could and promised that if people followed him, that they could do cool, extraordinary things, too. Of course there was that bit about God loving all people, but to a kid with an active imagination and who believed that his dogs could be taught how to talk, who tried to talk to the weeping willow in the backyard like Pocahontas did in the Disney movie, and who believed in magic and genies and fairy godmothers, the miracles seemed to be the thing that must be why people followed Jesus.

I tried to perform miracles. I remember trying to walk on water at the local pool because how cool would that be? I remember trying to move a mountain or a small hill, anyway, because that sounded awesome! I remember when my grandfather died and I wondered why the people at the funeral didn’t try to bring him back like Jesus did because surely that would be better than being sad.

But when I tried to walk on water, I fell through the surface and swam back up. When I tried to move that small hill, it stood resolutely and I wonder if it bothered to notice that I was there at all. My grandfather was driven from the funeral home to the cemetery and laid to rest. And as a child, I wondered why no one ever seemed to have enough faith to do any of the things Jesus did.

When I was a teenager and started asking questions, I remember asking the people at my church why miracles “didn’t happen anymore.” Why didn’t praying for someone to be healed of sickness or injury heal them like it had when Jesus did it? Why didn’t blessing food make it multiply endlessly? (Which for anyone who has ever been to a Southern Baptist potluck where that one person brought devilled eggs, you know that that specific platter of devilled eggs needs a blessing). Why didn’t mountains move and why couldn’t people walk on water?

I received a variety of answers for these questions. Some people said that I needed more faith, that God only worked with people who had achieved some hidden prerequisite faith quota. Others said that God moves in mysterious ways and that it’s not our place to question. That never made sense to me. Still others had the most frightening answer of all, that God didn’t perform miracles anymore. That answer in particular came up more in the South, the idea that God was no longer actively involved with humans. That God did not speak to people anymore, that God did not work wonders in the world anymore. And it was always confusing, as well, because these people would always insist that God was active in the world, that God was doing something. God just wasn’t doing anything miraculous or being transparent about what was going on.

I wondered what the point of believing in God was if these miracles people spent so much time focusing on didn’t exist anymore. Why did Jesus feed people if they were going to be hungry again? Why did he heal people if they were going to get sick again? Why did he bring people back to life if they were just going to die again? And I clung to faith because I was waiting for someone to bring me an answer.

I didn’t find a satisfactory answer until I was in college after I came out. One of my sociology professors talked about her work as a nurse while her husband worked as a community organizer and pastored a church in South Africa. There were stories of trials and difficulty and I wondered sometimes why anyone would stay in a place with such hardships when they had the option of leaving. There were stories of joy and blessing, too. Children learning languages, change happening, people receiving medical care. And these stories gave me part of the answer. All life contains both blessing and hardship.

The second part came when I was completing my spring semester of my senior year, the only time I have ever been part of a theatrical production and I did it as a favor to my friend because it was their senior show. The show was called Corpus Christi, and it was a retelling of the story of Jesus from the perspective of Joshua, a gay man. All the disciples are there, and they’re all gay. Simon was a singer, Phillip was a stripper, and Judas was Joshua’s high school sweetheart.

The story was the same as it is in the Bible. Joshua goes out, leaves home, teaches, performs miracles. And when the last supper happens, Joshua and Judas go off alone because Joshua knows that he’s about to die and he’s afraid. He falls asleep in Judas’s lap and Judas makes a deal to betray him with the high priest. And when they’re done, the high priest warns Judas that Joshua is a troublemaker. To which Judas asks, “Because he says he’s the son of God?” The high priest says, “No, because he says that you are also the son of God.” Judas counters with, “We are all the children of God.”

And this is the central message of Corpus Christi, the truth as the playwright saw it, that we are all manifestations of the Christ Spirit. The school shut it down, of course and it was a dark, sad time for those of us in the cast. But life went on. We healed, bit by bit, step by step, through little things and time spent with friends. Through talking and laughing and crying and raging. Through eating and drinking and stressing and playing. Some of us wrote. Some acted. Some protested. Others threw themselves into schoolwork. And three years later, we’re all still here. And that’s when I learned the second part of the answer. Life goes on.

Miracles happen every day. To say that God does not work miracles in the world discounts the wonders we see around us. We live longer than we did a century ago because someone discovered medicines and ways to keep us healthy longer.  We grow food in such quantity that it feeds billions of people around the world every day. We heal, day by day, from old hurts and traumas others may never fully understand. And to say that God is not here in the midst, orchestrating these little miracles, even ones so small as the next breath we take, is wrong.

And just because Jesus’ miracles were temporary does not mean that they were not extraordinary. His teachings, to love with our whole beings, to be kind even to our enemies, to do good, even if all we can do is give someone some water, are what matter. And resurrection, the continuance of life even in the face of death is the greatest of all. When Jesus came back, he comforted those who mourned for him. He forgave Peter for denying him. At the end of Corpus Christi, the actors come out of character and the Actor Playing Judas says, “Sometimes, I mourn for Judas, too. I think Joshua would have.”

Easter is a time of miracles. Jesus rose from the dead and this was so shocking, so absurdly wonderful, that the people who spent every day with him for years, listening to him teach, hearing his words, questioning him, learning from him, eating, resting, dancing, singing, laughing, and crying with him were so flabbergasted that they could not believe that it happened. And the only people who believe the women who come to tell them that Jesus is not in the tomb are Peter and John, the Beloved Disciple. And when Mary Magdalene comes running to the rest of the disciples crying “I have seen the Lord!” they don’t believe her until Jesus himself pops in to tell them.

And yet Easter is often so calm. So mundane. It comes like spring. Slowly, at first, then all of a sudden the world is alive again. Everything is reborn and every year at springtime there’s one day when I go out and I pause and wonder when the trees had grown their leaves back, if I had been asleep for the whole thing or if it happened just a few moments ago. And suddenly the world is alive again after the winter snows. Flowers are blooming, the grass is green, the birds are singing, and the trees rustle in the wind, whispering their secrets to each other as they come awake.

Resurrection is coming and it is a gift, whether we experience rebirth and renewal in this life or are reborn into the next. Resurrection is the chance to do more. To love more. To be more compassionate. To be more gracious. The mistakes we made are not the last word. The cycle continues until we have reached the highest and best good. And that is a miracle, too.

As for me, I believe in only one miracle. Life, and the endless wonder it brings. The feeling of wind at your back, the sun on your face, of rain falling on dry skin and thirsty earth, of dreaming and waking, of living moments of joy and sorrow, of loving and being loved. The greatest miracle of life is that it endures. As life does not, cannot pause in the moments of blissful peace and profound joy, so too does life not stop during moments of incomprehensible sorrow and deep despair. As every sun sets and the long night begins, so the sun rises and new days come to bring their blessings. Every winter ends and life returns to a sleeping world. Life goes on and resurrection is coming. Praise God. Amen.

[spynotebook]

Image: Leaving the opera in the year 2000, lithograph by Albert Robida (late 19th century)

FirstsThis week we're taking a look at first things, early things, and—for better or worse—things that are #1.  

Science fiction writers are professional future-dreamers, imagining worlds far beyond their own. With technology advancing at astronomical rates, real life feels more and more like sci-fi every day (for better or worse). So it’s fun to look back at those writers who, decades and even centuries ago, imagined what life would be like now—and some of their predictions were surprisingly accurate.

It’s difficult to pin down exactly who was the first to predict the internet, because the further back we go the more abstract these predictions become. However, these three authors are the best contenders for the title—within the very limited confines of Western European fiction—and you can decide which one of them was truly the first to predict the internet as it works today.

Edward Mitchell — The Senator’s Daughter (1879)

Edward Page Mitchell is far from a household name. Yet he was a foundational figure for modern sci-fi, dreaming up faster-than-light travel, cyborgs, teleportation, mutants, and time travel long before HG Wells and other more well-known writers developed these ideas. Despite being born in 1852, Mitchell’s short stories were amazingly prescient, and The Senator’s Daughter features a fascinating machine that parallels social media newsfeeds.

Written in 1879 but set in 1937, The Senator’s Daughter imagines the future of world politics, as a poignant, star-crossed romance plays out. Our young lovers are divided by politics and race, and Mitchell’s social commentary makes this story well worth a read. Although the focus is largely socio-political, Mitchell uses fantastic technology to place the events in the future—and that’s where we find our internet prediction. Here’s an excerpt:

[Mr. Wanlee] went to one side of the room, where an endless strip of printed paper, about three feet wide, was slowly issuing from between noiseless rollers and falling in neat folds into a willow basket placed on the floor to receive it. Mr. Wanlee bent his head over the broad strip of paper and began to read attentively.

“You take the Contemporaneous News, I suppose,” said the other.

“No, I prefer the Interminable Intelligencer,” replied Mr. Wanlee.

This unnamed contraption provides a constant stream of news from multiple different publications, reporting on live events around the world. It may seem small, but it’s quite amazing that Mitchell dreamed this machine up, considering that electronic printers were far from being invented. The immediacy of the reports, the breadth of publications, and the fact that this is all available in Mr Wanlee’s own home is reminiscent of social media newsfeeds, RSS feeds, and even Google News.

As Mitchell was primarily a journalist, it’s fitting that he predicted news culture in the internet age. However, although this story was chronologically published before the others on this list, Mitchell’s news machine is maybe a little too specific to be considered an all-encompassing prediction of the internet. But he wasn’t the only one to imagine live reports from around the world…

Mark Twain — From The London Times in 1904 (1898)

Mark Twain might be known for his sardonic depictions of quaint American life, but he occasionally branched out into other genres with his short stories. The 1898 story From The London Times In 1904 introduces a machine called the Telectroscope, described as a “limitless-distance” telephone that allows the user to view events all around the world in real-time, as well as interact with the people there. This provides comfort to one Mr Clayton, a man awaiting his execution after being accused of murder.

…day by day, and night by night, he called up one corner of the globe after another, and looked upon its life, and studied its strange sights, and spoke with its people, and realized that by grace of this marvelous instrument he was almost as free as the birds of the air, although a prisoner under locks and bars.

In Twain’s story, the Telectroscope reveals that the man Clayton supposedly killed is still alive. Clayton is released, but the courts rule that his execution must still be carried out. Despite the evidence, Clayton is executed at the end of the story. In our current culture of defiance in the face of apparently indisputable evidence (say, of a crowd gathering to see a president elected), Twain’s scathing tale of obstinate blindness to the truth certainly resonates.

Unsurprisingly, Twain is frequently credited with being the first to predict smartphones and social media, as the Telectroscope is similar to the livestreams and video chats we use today. However, there is another author who arguably got much closer to a comprehensive view of how the internet works…

E.M. Forster — The Machine Stops (1909)

Between two of his most famous works, A Room With A View and Howard’s End, E.M. Forster took a break from writing about class hypocrisy to pen a futurist novella that doesn’t just predict many of the functions of the internet, but also its effect on society. The Machine Stops is set in a post-apocalyptic future wherein humanity has retreated underground to live in pods. Their society is managed, maintained, and controlled by the Machine, an automatic entity that is revered by all. The Machine provides every material comfort for the population, as well as allowing them to access a vast archive of information, and communicate with each other visually and aurally.

Then she generated the light, and the sight of her room, flooded with radiance and studded with electric buttons, revived her. There were buttons and switches everywhere – buttons to call for food for music, for clothing. [...] There was the button that produced literature. and there were of course the buttons by which she communicated with her friends. The room, though it contained nothing, was in touch with all that she cared for in the world.

Although radio and telephones were becoming more widespread when Forster was writing, such a vast, automatic network was unheard of in 1909. The Machine parallels the internet in dozens of ways, from co-ordinating the practicalities of this society (much like how traffic lights are run automatically today), to archives of information and film, to instant communication.

This apparently comfortable society is not without its problems, however. People are wary of touching one another, and dare not question the Machine. In fact, we could even argue that Forster predicted the social media bubble, wherein people regurgitate ideas to those in their little internet community — at one point in The Machine Stops, a university professor warns people to “beware of new ideas!”

Although The Machine Stops was predated by Twain and Mitchell’s stories, Forster’s predictions are far more all-encompassing, with the Machine paralleling the internet beyond mere elements of social media. There will always be debate over who predicted the internet first, but Forster’s foresight is eerily similar to modern day. Ultimately, the Machine breaks down and with it, so does this civilization. We’ll just have to hope that this particular prediction doesn’t come true.

[frompixietodragon]

Vampire at Hogwarts? (1/?)

Summary: Izzy is a vampire/witch attending Hogwarts, the first Hybrid to do so. She meets a few marauders along the way and makes unique friendships.

Pairing: Izzy x Remus; Izzy x Sirius; Izzy x James (friends) Izzy x Lilly (friends)

》》》》》》》》》

The hardest part about being a witch and a vampire was hiding the certain vampire characteristics that made me what I was. I was a hybrid, having been born to a witch mother and a vampire father. It was a shock on both their ends, but they were more than happy to have a daughter.

When I turned eleven, I got my letter from Hogwarts, granting me acceptance to the school of witchcraft and wizardry. My mother was thrilled and I was happy to know that I was a witch myself.

Up until I was eleven, I knew I was a vampire. My father told me that vampires who are bitten will remain the same age as they were when they were turned, but those that are born will grow and age like human children.

The only thing that might make me different is that my mom’s a witch. The mix of magic in my blood may cause my aging process to end up different than the others.

But for now I would attend Hogwarts and work toward graduating. I knew that I was interested in potentially becoming an Auror and defending the Wizarding world.

I was currently in my fifth year at Hogwarts, having been sorted into the Gryffindor house like my mother was. I learned magic quite well and was able to remember things perfectly. I had other enhancements that others didn’t have as well.

My eye sight was more than perfect, letting me see things that a normal 16 year old wouldn’t be able to see. My hearing was that of a cat, and my reflexes were cat-like. I was guaranteed to be the quietest person in the entire school, which helped when I was unable to sleep at night, fueling my midnight excursions outside to hunt.

Yes, I fed on animals for the most part. I didn’t need the constant sustenance that my father needed (he was able to get donated blood from St. Margos) so feeding on animals was often enough to satiate my thirst.

Of course, I had been looking for a magical answer to my thirst, but I would often come up empty handed. I had asked Professor Dumbledore if I would be able to ask the DADA professor about it, but most often those professors were Aurors that weren’t too keen on vampires.

I considered asking the smartest boy in my year, Remus Lupin. I knew he knew more about the Dark Arts things than most students did, but that’s because I knew he was a werewolf.

Yeah, I knew. I could smell it on him, and I could smell it well enough to know that he was bitten and turned instead of being a born wolf. I didn’t ever approach him about it, since I didn’t want him to feel awkward around me.

I knew he didn’t know what I was, but I often thought he was suspicious about it. I wasn’t the most subtle about it, using my reflexes and vampiric talents to be better than most, especially in quidditch.

Oh I was great at quidditch, being a beater for my first two years, then the back up seeker for James Potter. The last three years I was mostly the keeper, since I had the fastest reflexes on the team I was able to determine where the ball was going to be thrown and could stop it in record time.

James and I were friends. Perhaps not the closest, but I knew about his crush on Lilly and how he and his friends got into trouble alot. He askes me for pointers a lot when it comes to Lilly.

“Hey, Izzy? Got a sec?” James asked one afternoon before a game against Ravenclaw. I knew we had the game in the bag, seeing as Ravenclaw didn’t have a lot of sufficient players.

“For you, Potter? I’ve got all the time in the world. Is it about Lilly again?” I was sitting on the bench in the team locker room, slipping my boots on and tucking my pants into them before lacing up.

“That obvious? But yeah. I want to ask her to Hogsmeade this winter near Christmas and I know you always have the best ideas for this type of stuff.”

I rolled my eyes slightly. Of course I did, I could hear Lilly talking to her friends about what her dream man would be, and I knew it was James Potter, but she was too stubborn to see it. So, I’d give him hints about how she liked things, like being asked out.

“Well, one of her favorite flowers blooms right before the peak of winter, they’re called Star Magnolias, you should check those out. She also needs a new scarf. Preferably a green one to match her eyes.” I told him as I stood up and grabbed my broom. His eyes lit up at the mention of how to win her over, and he thanked me before grabbing his broom and taking off toward the team and the field.

The game went over without a hitch, Gryffindor scoring 680 points versus the Ravenclaw 250. James caught the snitch, guaranteeing our win, and we went to the Gryffindor tower to celebrate.

Gryffindor parties were always the most rowdy. Older team mates were able to get tubs of firewhiskey and Butterbeer for everyone and someone brought their music down for a loud night of partying.

After a few shots of firewhiskey (knowing I couldn’t get drunk), with the liquid courage in my belly I was able to dance with the other members of the team, letting loose and having a good time.

Unfortunately, good times didn’t last long for a vampire like me. Halfway through the party, someone managed to put their hand through the common room window, shattering the glass and cutting up his hand.

At the smell of human blood, my mouth began to water. I knew it was bad to want to taste it, but I knew I was in control of my urges. I watched the boy get brought away and cleaned up, someone who was smart enough to fix the window did and the party resumed.

But I wasn’t able to focus much after the smell of blood hit me. How long had it been since I last fed? A week? Two? Maybe. And that was pushing it for me. I found a way sneak out of the party, which wasn’t hard considering everyone was pretty much drunk.

I made it all the way down the hallway before I heard someone. I pulled my wand from my pouch and cast a simple illusion spell over myself, turning my body invisible for a good ten minutes. I slowly made my way down the hall again, watching for the source of the noises.

I got to the secret stairs I used and frowned when I heard voices. Voices I recognized all too well.

“Bloody hell, Padfoot. Just come on! We’re gonna be late and you know how Mooney is when we’re late.” It was James. And I knew he was talking to Sirius.

What were they doing here? I never saw anyone else using these stairs before, so why would someone be on them in such a crucial time for me? I needed to feed, and I needed to feed soon. I was tempted to just go around them, take the moving staircases down to the second floor and out the window there, but that took too much time and Mrs. Norris could probably smell me if I tried that.

My only option was to follow them down the steps to the exit they would leave from. I slowly followed them down the spiral steps, keeping a safe distance so they wouldn’t hear me following them.

Unfortunately in my haste to get outside, I missed a step and slipped, making a loud thudding noise as I landed on the next step. It echoed through the stairway, and I could hear their footstep pause slightly before the sound of paper unfolding.

“Aw, come on mate, we don’t have time to check who it is. We just gotta get there before 11:50. Come on.” I heard them continue their journey and I sighed and kept moving, hurrying to get outside to feed.

I hated feeling hungry. It made me feel sort of bad about hiding it from people, but Professor Dumbledore and my dad told me that vampires frightened people. That the best thing I could do was to hide it. I was trusted to be alone within the school, feeding outside when I had to, but I feared someone would find out and I’d be sent away.

When I finally reached outside, I watched the forms of the two boys hurry off toward the Wamping Willow. I wondered briefly why they were going there, but my attention was then refocused onto the sound of something rustling in the woods.

I could smell it then, the deer that were running around the Forbidden Forest. I felt the tingling in my gums as I fought my fangs coming in. I was late hunting, having not in a few weeks. I was going to make up for it tonight.

I slowly stalked into the forest, keeping my footsteps silent as I stayed downwind of the deer herd. There were… four. Four deer, two bucks, a doe, and a baby. I blinked once and could see better, focusing on the way they would feed on the grass.

It seemed that the doe and the baby would eat at the berries, then one buck would eat, then the other. As if they took turns looking for predators. I gauged my speed, knowing that I was faster than a deer, but if I was going to get them all tonight I was gonna have to be fast and pick them off. Perhaps one by one.

And that’s what I did. I kept up with them enough to stay out of sight, and figured that I should go for one of the bucks first. I waited for one to stay back from the group a bit and attacked as it lifted it’s head to me. I snapped it’s neck, biting past the fur and into the skin and veins to find its blood.

Oh was it heavenly. After having not fed in nearly a month, it was like the sweetest treat I could imagine. The ruby liquid poured into my mouth and slid down my chin as I attempted to get it all. But that didn’t matter now. It never mattered that I was messy. I’d clean up before anyone saw me anyway.

As I finished the buck, I heard the howl of a wolf. But oh, it wasn’t a normal wolf. Ever since I was young, my father told me that werewolves were dangerous. I glanced up at the sky, realizing that tonight was the full moon.

My mind immediately went to Remus. He must be turning tonight. Wait. Was that where James and Sirius were going? We’re they going with Remus when he turned? That was incredibly dangerous!

I shook my head as I turned back to where I could smell the remaining three deer. The one buck was enough to quench the thirst I felt when I smelled the human blood, but I figured that the other two would be good to have just because I hadn’t fed in a while.

I stalked after the remaining deer, tracking them a few miles by scent. When I stopped to look at my surroundings, I froze as another howl ripped from the wolf. Had I gotten that close to him?

I watched the doe wander toward the stream and smirked, creeping toward her as I positioned myself for the kill. It was quick and easy, and draining her was quicker than the buck. I was ready to turn and hunt down the others when I heard something crash through the trees.

I watched as a buck and a large black dog walked through the woods together, heading for the stream I was currently standing in. Luckily, I was downwind and slightly hidden by trees as I watched the strange pair.

Moments later, the werewolf emerged from the bushes as well, scaring off the other buck and the fawn. I frowned and watched as the werewolf and the two other animals interacted with each other. As if they were playing?

I didn’t want a confrontation, knowing I wouldn’t be able to take on a werewolf and a dog that large. If I was careful, I’d be able to sneak my way down the river and back toward the school. I dropped the deer on the edge of the river, dipping my hands in the flowing water before rubbing away at the blood on my mouth.

I disregarded anything that might be on my clothes because that was easy to fix, and then slowly backed my way out of the river onto the opposite side of the bank and up onto land. I would have to cross somewhere else, seeing as crossing there would be too loud. I crept along the bank, watching the trio before deciding I was far enough away.

I crossed quietly. Making sure to not trip myself while walking through the moonlit woods. When I reached the opposite bank, I realized I couldn’t run, that would draw attention. So I slowly walked back toward the school, through the forest.

I heard rustling in the bushes a little ways before I reached the school, and when another deer emerged, I couldn’t have been happier. It was another doe, and I smirked to myself, knowing that it would satisfy me until another night next week.

But before I could pounce on it, a large figure scurried through the woods past me and onto the deer. I growled low in my throat as I watched the creature eat my prey. When I approached slightly, I realized that it was in fact, a werewolf that stole my dinner.

This had to be Remus. There was no way it wasn’t. And he snapped his head to face me as I stepped forward.

Oh shit. Oh SHIT. What do I do? I stood frozen, staring into his eyes. I lowered my head slightly, watching as he sniffed at me. Okay, okay don’t be nervous. Don’t freak out. If he comes at me I’ll run like hell. Maybe whip my wand out? But he didn’t come after me. He sniffed once more before turning from me and going back to the deer.

While his head was turned from me I took it as my chance to haul ass back to the school. When I saw the castle as I broke through the tree line. I sighed, knowing I was safe. I let myself relax a bit as I broke into the school and took the stairs back up to the tower.

As I passed drunken, passed out Gryffindor students, all I could think about is whether or not Remus would remember he saw me in the morning.

[gokinjeespot]

off the rack #1156

Monday, March 20, 2017

 It's the first day of spring but you would still think it's the dead of winter here in Ottawa. I hear it snowed in Vancouver recently too. I don't consider spring starting until I can't see anymore snow on the ground around our neighbourhood. I figure that will be the middle of April this year. I've already seen a robin at our house though. We put up a bird feeder last fall and it attracts many birds. Mostly house sparrows but we see finches, juncos, nuthatches, chickadee-dee-dees and our favourites the cardinals and woodpeckers. The male cardinals are bright red-orange and the females are a mocha coffee colour. We have had downy, hairy and pileated woodpeckers come and feed. Watching the birds outside our window is like watching fish swim around an aquarium. Very calming. Until the undesirables show up. Starlings and squirrels snark up a lot of feed and scare away the little birdies. The squirrels have gotten so brazen now that I have to go outside to shoo them off the feeder. I used to be able to do that just by banging on the window. Stupid squirrels.

 We lost one of the greatest comic book artists on March 18 when Bernie Wrightson succumbed to cancer and passed away. I have always been a bigger fan of the art side of our hobby and Bernie's art gave me goosebumps. His pen and ink work was stunning. Rest in peace Mr. Wrightson.

 Punisher #10 - Becky Cloonan (writer) Matt Horak (art) Frank Martin with Guru-eFX (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). I'm disappointed in Matt. This whole issue takes place at a sea port in Newfoundland and he didn't put one Canadian flag in any of the panels. Even a little one would have been nice. It looks like another dire situation for Frank but the bad guys screwed themselves. You'll see the obvious giveaway, but maybe I'm wrong.

 Uncanny Avengers #21 - Gerry Duggan (writer) Kevin Libranda (art) Dono Sanchez Almara with Protobunker (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). If there's a fill-in artist who makes me just as happy to read this book as when regular artist Pepe Larraz draws it, then it's Kevin Libranda. I liked how Deadpool found a way to defeat the Red Skull's Professor X powers. I wonder if they're going to bring back old Charles.

 Batman #19 - Tom King (writer) David Finch (pencils) Danny Miki, Trevor Scott & Sandra Hope (inks) Jordie Bellaire (colours) Deron Bennett (letters). The art in this issue is pretty awesome. Part 4 of "I Am Bane" has the big bad guy wading through Batman's rogues gallery one by one. Almost every Bat villain you can think of get's his licks in. odd that there are no women. I was also bothered by the fact that they're all loose inside Arkham asylum. How are they going to be get back in custody? The last page leads into the inevitable final battle between Bane and Batman and I want to see who wins. Like I couldn't guess.

 American Gods #1 - Neil Gaiman (writer) P. Craig Russell (script & layouts) Scott Hampton (art) Rick Parker (letters). I started a list of books I want to read after the Snail closed because I found myself with a lot of extra time. American Gods by Neil Gaiman is on that list. I've been told what the premise of the book is so I had a bit of background going into reading this first issue of the comic book adaptation. Reading the comic book is going to enhance my reading of the novel when I get around to it because I will visualize Scott's depictions of the characters in my head and they are very nice ones. The back-up story "Somewhere in America" by P. Craig Russell (script & art) and Lovern Kindzierski (colours) was a hot piece of erotica about unsafe sex. This gets added to my "must read" list.

 Totally Awesome Hulk #17 - Greg Pak (writer) Mahmud Asrar (art) Nolan Woodard (colours) Cory Petit (letters). This hasn't been a solo book for the last few issues with Amadeus hanging out with his friends but I am still enjoying it. This issue is a good place to start as the team has to figure out a way to save themselves and some civilians from being eaten by aliens. You could call these guys the Asian Avengers because what happens in this issue gives them something to avenge. If you jump on here you won't want to jump off until you read the next issue.

 Batwoman #1 - Marguerite Bennett & James Tynion IV (writers) Steve Epting (art) Jeromy Cox (colours) Deron Bennett (letters). Kate chases after a mystery woman from her past after dealing with a terrorist in Istanbul. I like how she's teamed up with Julia Pennyworth.

 Kill or be Killed #7 - Ed Brubaker (writer) Sean Phillips (art) Elizabeth Breitweiser (colours). This issue features Dylan's ex-girlfriend Kira, now with purple hair instead of red. I'm glad she's still hanging around because boy does she have problems. We start off during a session with her therapist and get a lot of background. I love this kind of stuff because it makes the characters more engaging. Kira might need an emergency session after she decides to do something stupid at Dylan's place.

 Monsters Unleashed #5 - Cullen Bunn (writer) Adam Kubert (art) David Curiel & Michael Garland (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). Okay, Kid Kaiju comes through to save the world from the Leviathon Mother, showing up all the Marvel super heroes. I guess that's why he's getting his own book. Look for it to hit the racks on April 19. Unless it's drawn by an artist that I really like I will take a pass. The Kid's creations are more suited to fans of action figures or Saturday morning cartoons than an old coot like me.

 Super Sons #2 - Peter J. Tomasi (writer) Jorge Jimenez (art) Alejandro Sanchez (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). This is great. I don't know why but I love really well written comics about young super heroes like this and Champions. Maybe it's because I can't let go of being a kid. Damian and Jonathan have to deal with Super Lex in order to get a lead on Kid Amazo, the very bad boy they're after. Everything doesn't go smoothly and then, uh-oh, their dads find out about what they're doing. I can't wait to see what happens next.

 Wild Storm #2 - Warren Ellis (writer) John Davis-Hunt (art) Steve Buccellato (colours) Simon Bowland (letters). This 24 issue series is very ambitious and there are a lot of players involved. If I was a new reader I would be wondering who are these people? Some people work for International Operations (IO) and some people work for Halo. The two organisations don't like each other and they're both after Angela Spica, the Engineer. I hope that helps with getting into this story. One of my favourite things from the old series was the Door which could transport people to different places. I think we're introduced to a new Door this issue and she's a lot better looking than Lockjaw.

 Ms. Marvel #16 - G. Willow Wilson (writer) Takeshi Miyazawa (art) Ian Herring (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). I like this story about a malevolent computer virus and it looks like Kamala can't defeat it. That is until she gets a clue from her old pal Bruno. I can't wait to find out how Doc.x gets deleted.

 Superman #19 - Peter J. Tomasi & Patrick Gleason (writers) Patrick Gleason (pencils) Mick Gray (inks) John Kalisz (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). Part 3 of "Superman Reborn" looks like it might resurrect the pre-New 52 Lois and Clark. I hope not. That would confuse me to no end and then I would get annoyed and stop reading these amazing Superman books. Patrick draws the creepiest Mr. Mxyzptlk ever. I wonder if they're going to do the saying the imp's name backwards thing?

 Guardians of the Galaxy #18 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Valerio Schiti (art) Richard Isanove (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). I love these issues featuring one team member. Angela's up this time around and it's a beautifully drawn fight scene between her and some alien bounty hunter. The issue ends with a major threat heading for Earth. It starts with Th and rhymes with anus.

 Spider-Man #14 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Sara Pichelli (art) Justin Ponsor (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). Nothing serious between Miles and Gwen despite what the cover shows. This is one of those issues that annoy Bendis detractors because nothing really happens. The heroes hop from one dimension to another and each wind up in different ones by the end of this issue. I can easily forgive because of Sara's art.

 Mighty Thor #17 - Jason Aaron (writer) Russell Dauterman (art) Matthew Wilson (colours) VC's Joe Sabino (letters). The gods of Asgard and the Imperial Guard of the Shi'Ar finally come to blows in part 3 of "The Asgard/Shi'Ar War". Meanwhile Thor can't seem to win much in the challenge of the gads against the Shi'Ar gods Sharra and K'ythri. Mjolnir is sure getting a workout though. This book is not only chock full of action but it's visually stunning as well.

 Amazing Spider-Man #25 - Dan Slott (writer) Stuart Immonen (pencils) Wade von Grawbadger (inks) Marte Gracia (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). I wish you didn't have to pay $9.99 US for this one issue starting off "The Osborn Identity" story. That's a bit much for one comic book don't you think? Sure you get a bunch of back-up stories but none of those really matter to the main story. You do get 40 pages of Stuart and Wade goodness though, so why couldn't they have printed just that and charged $4.99 US? As you can probably tell Norman Osborn is back so the Green Goblin can't be far behind. I did like the team-up with Mockingbird with a hint of Peter and Bobbi possibly becoming more than friends. Here are the other stories that pad this issue. A fight with Clash by Christos Gage (writer) Todd Nauck (art) Rachelle Rosenberg (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters) which has the old "it's not what you think" twist at the end. A silly Tsum-Tsum story for the younger readers by Jacob Chabot (writer) Ray-Anthony Height (pencils) Walden Wong (inks) Jim Campbell (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). Thank Thor that was a blessedly short 6 pages. A Parker Industries mishap at their Shanghai facility by James Asmus (writer) Tana Ford (art) Andres Mossa (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). A young Spider-Man story about a boy and his dog by Hannah Blumenreich (writer & pencils) Jordan Gibson (inks) Jordie Bellaire (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). Some Aunt May gags by Cale Atkinson which were even sillier than the Tsum-Tsum story. And finally to ease the pain of having to buy an overpriced comic book, the return of another Spider-Man nemesis. One thing that "The Clone Conspiracy" did was bring back Otto Octavius, Doc Ock. He now has a youthful body thanks to Miles Warren's cloning process. So meet The Superior Octopus by Dan Slott (writer) Giuseppe Camuncoli (pencils) Cam Smith (inks) Jason Keith (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). He's bad-ass now plus he's got Hydra backing. Here's a prediction: Somewhere in the future Peter and Norman have to team up to fight Otto and Hydra.

 Archie #18 - Mark Waid (writer) Pete Woods (art & colours) Jack Morelli (letters). This issue proves that love is blind. Archie and Veronica have nothing in common and should not be together. Betty and Dilton Doiley are more compatible. I wish I was Dilton Doiley.

[taintedkibou]

yo, abandoned WIP

line breaks: new scene Willow lifted his head, peering over the top of his glasses at the Pokémon that suddenly began chittering nervously. Something was coming. Or maybe someone. He recalled the Pokémon had a similar reaction to a trainer he’d seen off a few weeks ago.

Pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head so they were nestled in his snow-white hair, Willow stood from his desk. The Pokémon went from being nervous to excited and he had to shield himself from a Zubat that dived from the ceiling. Rattata danced around his feet. There was a Pidgey that took his hair for a nest—how—but fluttered away after realizing it was mistaken.

Professor Willow stumbled into the adjacent room with a grunt and closed the door, leaning against it. With a deep breath, he flipped the switch on his left, illuminating the lab. He fished around in his pocket for a communicator and snapped it open as he made his way to the transfer machine in the center of the room. He needed another set of starters from Oak.

-x-x-

The door to Professor Willow’s house was thrown open, without a bang, but that didn’t stop the Pokémon from scattering with startled cries. “Professor Willow!” the young man filling the doorway yelled. “Professor! I need a Pokémon!” He glanced down at the various creatures that stared back at him apprehensively. “I wonder if I can take one of these…”

A low, almost warning warble came from behind and he spun around to find a Fearow glaring fiercely at him. Rather than feel fear as the bird Pokémon spread its wings threateningly, the young man took a step towards it, hand outstretched.

“Go,” an exasperated voice sighed. “Don’t. Don’t pet my Fearow. I can’t guarantee he won’t put a hole through your hand.” Professor Willow walked around the side of his house, smiling at his guest. “I knew you were coming. You already know the spiel. You know what I do. Are you ready?”

A red streak covered the space between them and the young man named Go snatched the Poké Ball tossed to him out of the air. He grinned, turning the device over and over in his hands.

With the human distracted, the Fearow ruffled its feathers once before folding them down and sauntering over to the Professor. Willow smoothed a hand over the bird’s head before sending it on its way. He turned back around just in time to see his guest dart into the house. “Go! Please don’t try to catch any of those Pokémon!”

Willow jogged over to the front of the building, only to stumble backwards when Go darted back out into the yard with a flock of Pidgey swarming around his head.  The Professor quickly brought his fingers to his lips, but Fearow beat him to it, releasing a loud cry. The Pidgey all fluttered to the ground, wings ruffling as they calmed themselves. Each gave a disdainful glance to the panting young man as they marched past him and back into the Professor’s house.

Go shook the feathers from his hair and swatted them away when they only fell as far as his shoulder. Outfit free of evidence from the provoked Pidgey attack, the brunet grinned up at the Professor.

Willow smiled back, albeit a bit nervously. “I’m worried about you. C’mon.”

"I'm more or less amused by all the time you’ve been spending with this particular trainer. There are hundreds out there trying to prove themselves and you latch onto this... What does the Internet call his type, Blanche?"

"Cinnamon roll," the white-haired team leader responded without taking their eyes off their paperwork. Someone had to do their job.

Candela tucked a gloved hand beneath her chin, fixing Spark with a lazy, arrogant smirk. "I guess you're his missing cinnamon roll, hmm?"

"I'm no cinnamon roll," Spark mumbled, his pout almost audible. The Jolteon in his lap lifted its head slowly and leveled its master with a stare blanker than what its dark eyes already delivered. Blanche's lips quirked upward in the faintest of smiles, but Candela tipped her chair backwards as she laughed, “Even your own Pokémon knows you’re a cinnamon roll!”

Spark placed a hand to Jolteon's spiked nape, disbelief written plainly across his face. "Et tú?" After nodding firmly, the Jolteon bristled and arched into the motionless hand, demanding more petting. Once Spark’s hand fell into a gentle sweeping motion, it settled back down into the warmth of its owner's lap.

Spark petted the Jolteon absentmindedly, Candela’s words now bouncing around in his head. Had he really been showing Go that much favoritism? He was only guiding him along in his journey to become a Pokémon trainer. His hand stilled, fingers curling into the soft fur of Jolteon’s back, and a lopsided grin tugged at his lips as he recalled Go running into Instinct’s headquarters, his first egg swaddled in the softest of cloths and clutched against his chest.

Blanche sighed, placing the stack of papers back onto the desk. “Candela,” they scolded. Candela was recording Spark’s behavior as proof but also blackmail. She closed the camera app after a few more seconds of footage.

“Spark,” Blanche started, only to be interrupted by the same team leader they addressed.

“I fell in love with a trainer,” Spark groaned. He hooked both hands beneath Jolteon’s front legs and lifted the Pokemon from his lap to hug against his chest. Jolteon tilted its head back with a low whine, a slight spark of electricity dancing across the spiked fur at the nape of its neck. “…tickles,” Spark mumbled, his voice muffled even more now that his face was buried in Jolteon’s soft belly.

“Good talk,” Blanche sighed to the air, returning to the work at hand. Candela had to excuse herself, already laughing loudly as she walked away.

Go sat at the edge of his seat, eyes wide and unblinking as he continued to stare at the news being broadcast. Blanche’s personal Gym had been attacked by Team Rocket—by their own sibling. The reporter announced Spark’s arrival and the live feed was shortly crackling with static energy. ‘Fearow!¹’ Go sprang up from the edge of the cushion and was halfway through the lab before being grabbed by his arm.

Professor Willow stumbled along with him to lessen the resistance and spare Go’s shoulder from getting yanked out of its socket.

“Professor—”

“Go. I know you care about Spark—”

“They’re all in danger!” the trainer shouted, giving his arm a tug.

Willow didn’t release him. He smiled wistfully. “I chose those three for a reason. They’re leagues above you. Team Rocket might have gotten the drop on them, but there’s no way our Team leaders are going down without a fight.”

Go’s body sagged, the tension keeping him taut now gone.

“Cool your head a bit. Go play with Fearow. We’ll go visit them tomorrow. How does that sound?”

“…okay,” the young man mumbled, hiding in the shadow cast from his visor. Willow uncurled his fingers from Go’s upper arm but kept his hand near.

Notes: ¹ - “Fearow” Yo. WIP that has no chance of resuscitation. I started it, and had planned to dedicate it to revolocities (when he was going through his GoSpark phase), but then... it fell to the wayside. Probably when I stopped playing Pogo. I’m also borrowing from surfacage’s “And the World Will Turn to Ash” AU (I love everything about that AU; everything about that blog). Def’ would’ve been tagging both of them, had this actually come to life.