fics: HP and MK
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: Hermione carries the moon in her stomach, waxing and waning with its phases. The dark moon. Moon-dark.
Title:
***
Sometimes when Hermione is reading she can feel the weight of the millennia behind her: thousands of witches, fighting for respect and power and winning it at a time when most of the world was in the dark ages, or fighting a war, or expecting women to be barefoot and pregnant. Witches demanding they be given their due.
How many times has Hermione been told she couldn’t do something, or teased because she was smart? Girls just have to be pretty, she was told-you’ll forget this nonsense when you’re older. When you find a man.
But now no one teases Hermione. They respect her, or fear her, or try to use her-and that’s okay, that’s just fine. She can use that.
Because Hermione is a witch now, heir to the knowledge of ages of witches. Like them, she carries the moon in her stomach, waxing and waning with its phases.
The dark moon. Moon-dark, when Harry and Ron avoid shadows, Hermione slips away and walks in its black light in bare feet. She likes the coolness of stone against her soles, the way the grass pokes between her toes. The power in her ebbs and flows with the wind.
In ages past witches lit bonfires during the moon-dark and danced naked around them, chanting long-forgotten women’s spells. Hermione thinks she would have liked to join them.
In the morning Ron will tease her about staying up late studying, and Harry will offer to carry her bag, she looks so tired, and maybe she should take a quick nap? And Hermione will smile and thank them for their concern, because in her mind she is whirling naked around a fire.
Wizards like Harry and Ron-and even Headmaster Dumbledore-will never understand this woman’s magic. Could never understand. Hermione thinks of Professor McGonagall, and Madam Hooch, and even Professor Trelawny (crazy old fraud that she is), and knows that they feel it. It’s in their eyes, in the way they hold and move their bodies.
When she looks in a mirror Hermione knows she has it too.
So she will accept Ron and Harry’s teasing with a smile. They will never understand, and that’s okay with Hermione. Let them tease. This woman’s power was never meant for them.
They will never understand, and thinking of the eyes of the witches around her, Hermione is glad.
The moon is both powerful and subtle, and Hermione keeps her secrets.
In the quiet library Hermione bends once again over the yellowing parchment.
***
Fandom: Magic Kaito
Summary: Aoko knows who Kaitou Kid is.
Title:
***
Author’s Note: Dark. For Socchan and Icka-- because sometimes everything doesn’t turn out okay.
*
Aoko knows who Kaitou Kid is. She’s known for some time, she thinks, and watches as Kaito dances around her, and Hakuba hints, and Akako gives her worried looks. She knows, and never says a word. Will never say a word.
Because Kaito didn’t tell her, her that he’s been best friends with ever since he gave her a flower to stop her tears. He didn’t tell her, and so she watches silently as he gets in deeper and deeper, and she doesn’t offer to help, not even when Kaitou Kid is shot at, not even when Kaito’s all manic laughter and brittle smiles.
Because it means that Kaito doesn’t trust her, that he never did, and the hurt in Aoko is so wide and deep that sometimes she’s afraid she’ll fall in and never climb out again. Because if Kaito doesn’t trust her than nothing she’s ever believed is true, and the world might as well end.
But the world doesn’t end, and at first Aoko isn’t sure why. But she waits, and watches, and pretends things are still normal, and after a while she begins to understand. Because now she also has secrets, and Kaito doesn’t notice, doesn’t ask her what’s wrong. And after a while more Aoko realizes that he won’t notice, and won’t ask, that this thing he is doing is more important to him than her. That Kaitou Kid is more important than her.
And Aoko can feel her heart breaking, slowly, oh so slowly, because she knows she could help him. If he asks. If he tells her the truth.
But he doesn’t. He won’t.
Sometimes Aoko wonders how much longer she’ll wait. Looking at his tired eyes, she thinks, I’ll wait forever. And then she thinks, No. Today I’ll give up.
Today.
***
So I'm in a wierd mood. Your point is?
Summary: Hermione carries the moon in her stomach, waxing and waning with its phases. The dark moon. Moon-dark.
Title:
***
Sometimes when Hermione is reading she can feel the weight of the millennia behind her: thousands of witches, fighting for respect and power and winning it at a time when most of the world was in the dark ages, or fighting a war, or expecting women to be barefoot and pregnant. Witches demanding they be given their due.
How many times has Hermione been told she couldn’t do something, or teased because she was smart? Girls just have to be pretty, she was told-you’ll forget this nonsense when you’re older. When you find a man.
But now no one teases Hermione. They respect her, or fear her, or try to use her-and that’s okay, that’s just fine. She can use that.
Because Hermione is a witch now, heir to the knowledge of ages of witches. Like them, she carries the moon in her stomach, waxing and waning with its phases.
The dark moon. Moon-dark, when Harry and Ron avoid shadows, Hermione slips away and walks in its black light in bare feet. She likes the coolness of stone against her soles, the way the grass pokes between her toes. The power in her ebbs and flows with the wind.
In ages past witches lit bonfires during the moon-dark and danced naked around them, chanting long-forgotten women’s spells. Hermione thinks she would have liked to join them.
In the morning Ron will tease her about staying up late studying, and Harry will offer to carry her bag, she looks so tired, and maybe she should take a quick nap? And Hermione will smile and thank them for their concern, because in her mind she is whirling naked around a fire.
Wizards like Harry and Ron-and even Headmaster Dumbledore-will never understand this woman’s magic. Could never understand. Hermione thinks of Professor McGonagall, and Madam Hooch, and even Professor Trelawny (crazy old fraud that she is), and knows that they feel it. It’s in their eyes, in the way they hold and move their bodies.
When she looks in a mirror Hermione knows she has it too.
So she will accept Ron and Harry’s teasing with a smile. They will never understand, and that’s okay with Hermione. Let them tease. This woman’s power was never meant for them.
They will never understand, and thinking of the eyes of the witches around her, Hermione is glad.
The moon is both powerful and subtle, and Hermione keeps her secrets.
In the quiet library Hermione bends once again over the yellowing parchment.
***
Fandom: Magic Kaito
Summary: Aoko knows who Kaitou Kid is.
Title:
***
Author’s Note: Dark. For Socchan and Icka-- because sometimes everything doesn’t turn out okay.
*
Aoko knows who Kaitou Kid is. She’s known for some time, she thinks, and watches as Kaito dances around her, and Hakuba hints, and Akako gives her worried looks. She knows, and never says a word. Will never say a word.
Because Kaito didn’t tell her, her that he’s been best friends with ever since he gave her a flower to stop her tears. He didn’t tell her, and so she watches silently as he gets in deeper and deeper, and she doesn’t offer to help, not even when Kaitou Kid is shot at, not even when Kaito’s all manic laughter and brittle smiles.
Because it means that Kaito doesn’t trust her, that he never did, and the hurt in Aoko is so wide and deep that sometimes she’s afraid she’ll fall in and never climb out again. Because if Kaito doesn’t trust her than nothing she’s ever believed is true, and the world might as well end.
But the world doesn’t end, and at first Aoko isn’t sure why. But she waits, and watches, and pretends things are still normal, and after a while she begins to understand. Because now she also has secrets, and Kaito doesn’t notice, doesn’t ask her what’s wrong. And after a while more Aoko realizes that he won’t notice, and won’t ask, that this thing he is doing is more important to him than her. That Kaitou Kid is more important than her.
And Aoko can feel her heart breaking, slowly, oh so slowly, because she knows she could help him. If he asks. If he tells her the truth.
But he doesn’t. He won’t.
Sometimes Aoko wonders how much longer she’ll wait. Looking at his tired eyes, she thinks, I’ll wait forever. And then she thinks, No. Today I’ll give up.
Today.
***
So I'm in a wierd mood. Your point is?