A Royal Adventure

by Goonipers

Tags: Feminist/Mary Sue; Character of Color; meta; parody/satire.

Warnings: Strap-on mentioned in this chapter and the next, but not used sexually.

Chapter 1 – The Meeting

Mary Sue brushed her long ginger hair by the mirror. It reflected her glittering personality, her dashing make-up and her royalty clothing – and her wig. It was black, as she personally hated being ginger and being name-called. She was the Princess of a long-lost forlorn land, somewhere in America and, out of the ordinary, she was gay. She hated this too, and long to be straight – or as she put it – het.

She was due to meet up with a Feminist that she agreed to become her beta and proofread her new Harry Potter story. It featured Hermione as a raging heterosexual who took over from Harry Potter once he'd died, and a battle between Bellatrix and Ginny, not her mother. Fleur Delacour was in it, as was Gabrielle, as victims, read the initial email, and the Feminist wanted to meet with her in person to decide their true fates.

She also, as Mary Sue put it, wanted to make love. She'd read between the lines that Hermione was gay with Ginny as her partner, and she wanted to ship them. Which was the sole reason for their meeting. The Feminist was the first person to find out that Mary Sue was not all she said she'd was.

Mary Sue was intrigued. How could someone guess that she was gay from the way she wrote? Hermione was still with Ron, although Ron sometimes fancied Luna, as Mary Sue didn't like either of them as they were too ginger and too weird.

Mary Sue was very popular at school and at sports. She lacked true confidence in everything else and was considering self-harming – but that would spoil her good looks. So she self-harmed with a spoon, and where the spoon went, that was in your imagination.

Mary Sue glanced at her watch. It was pink and rarely told the time correctly. So she settled on a new outfit that matched her black wig perfectly, spread powder across her freckles, and wore a brand new eyeshadow that was black. She wore black lipstick – because she was incredibly goffic, and wanted the boys to notice her. She wore highlights in her hair in neon millennial colours, which appealed to the Feminist in her school photo on Facebook, where she'd hooked up her account to, even the porn. She'd heard you were suppose to delete your fanfiction later when you'd gotten famous; even the Facebook you could delete all your school stuff for adult stuff later.

She debated with herself whether to wear her unicorn horn or not. She decided not to. She wore black, and lower down, she wore her strap-on, which vibrated. She always had wanted to wear it in public, so she could fuck a boy up the ass, whichever hottie she fancied.

She decided on wearing a very revealing dress, low-cut in the bosom area, and high-kneed in the hem. She put the strap-on in her bag, a tiny affair, too small for a dog, and only enough room for a dollar and her keys. Her iPhone, she slid into a side pocket.

She wore … It went on for ages and ages, all standing in front of the mirror. She described everything as raven or starling black, even her wig, and her eyes as violet, even though they weren't. They were hazel, a colour she didn't know.

Her skin was porcelain, her hands curvy, and her hips non-existent. She'd noticed hips too much on girls, and as previously mentioned, she hated being gay. God wouldn't approve.

Her parents weren't up to much downstairs, so she blasted pop on her iPhone and sang the lyrics to herself as she sailed out the door.

It was a short walk to the cafe they'd agreed on. It had pretty painted low fences and steel outside street furniture. There was a bin near the bus stop and Mary Sue paused to spit her chewing gum across to land… not land in it.

The Feminist was there waiting. She introduced herself as… A Feminist. She wouldn't say her real name, only her beta handle.

She shooed Mary Sue to a table, and as expected, wanted Mary Sue to go half. Mary Sue wouldn't have any of it.

"I've only got a dollar," she argued, trying to wind her way out of it. This worked with schoolfriends.

"You have to pay – it's feminist!" She replied; She was indignant.

"I. Can't. Pay." To prove it, she undone her bag and rolled out 1 sorry-looking-for-itself dollar.

"Fine. I'll take it. Actually, you can pay with your phone, if you've got it."

"I haven't," lied Mary Sue through gritted teeth. "I forgot it."

"You forgot to add Hermione Granger's last name, as I recall. You called her Hermine Potter."

"She's his Mine, that's why."

"Do you know how I know you're gay?" That shut Mary Sue up. "You write like a gay girl, that's why, and I'm a bi girl, and I write like a bi girl, a bi woman."

"You're not old enough. You're only my age. You can't be a feminist."

"My mum's a feminist and that's all that matters. I was born a feminist."

Mary Sue sat down gingerly. And boobily too. Because she was ginger and big-boobed.

"Fine. I'll pay with my phone." She lofted it out and it hit the side of the table, knocking it. It rocked on the pavement/sidewalk, causing anthropomorphic slash in Mary Sue's mind.

And never femslash. That was too... gay.

"You need to switch the right settings on. Oh, I'll do it. Hand it here." On cue, the phone's ringtone warbled out a pop song.

"Turn that off. I don't want to talk to her right now," said Mary Sue without looking at the caller's ID again.

"How do you know it's a Her? Are you feminist and you're lying? You even think Woman."

"No, I don't." Mary Sue hid behind her hand, her curvy hand. She thought fervently of God and self-harming with a spoon.

"I think you're a secret feminist and that you're lying," accused the young Feminist.

"I think you want a friend, any friend," shot Mary Sue back. "For your interest, I have lots of friends at school."

"I think you're gay, and that you haven't told them yet. Maybe one, a best friend, but not the others. You're scared... but scared of what?"

"Of nothing!" Mary Sue danced one leg atop the other. "I'm not gay, and I'm not queer, and I'm not crazy! You're just reading what you want into it!"

"You write like a gay girl; I've read loads from my mum's schooldays collection. My mum's queer and so's my dad, who donated sperm, and so's my mum's new partner. We all get along fine!"

"So how do you know? You're all crazy, BTW."

"You mean by the way." The Feminist laughed. The atmosphere lightened, and the heavy oppressive feel was off.

"No, I mean it like BLT. That's how everyone talks these days. And writes. And writes in emojis."

"Writers don't. Writers have to write English. Language. Whatever language they want," the Feminist said, correcting herself.

"You're nuts. I bet you're PC."

"Totally."

Mary Sue panted. Her wig was in her eyes, and she pushed it back. She wondered if the Feminist wore a wig, as she was black, and she heard black women wore wigs. Probably not.

Mary Sue gazed straight ahead, and not to the corners where the slash was. The Feminist took up all of her view.

She was black with black braided hair and a pink fringe-y bit puffing upwards. She looked a lot like Captain Jack Sparrow, who she remembered from when she was a kid.

The Feminist wore denim jeans and a T-shirt with the slogan: I'm here, queer, and here to stay in rainbow colours. Which matched Mary Sue's highlights.

She thought longingly of wearing her unicorn horn strap-on round her forehead and poking at the Feminist's fringe-y bit.

Speaking of which, She noticed her gaze and patted at Her head. "Has it come loose again. The dye they use always unweaves my hair before I need to re-plait it."

"What's your name?" asked Mary Sue, curiously. She was curious about the Feminist's sneakers, which she hadn't seen yet. She suspected grey or rainbow again.

"Can't say. We're not to reveal ourselves to anybody we've met online. I'm only your beta. Speaking of which..." The Feminist showed Mary Sue an iPad. It was marked with orange annotations and dotted underlines.

"I've flagged up everything inappropriate for our age that you shouldn't be writing," She said. "And everything that Hermione and Harry, and Ron and Luna shouldn't be doing at their age either. You need to age them up above the law of consent. Which is 16."

"Or 17. Or 18," said Mary Sue. "I forget which."

"I still think it's 21 in some countries, and if you get round to writing Hermione slash Ginny, which I think is Herminny or Ginmione, probably never in some countries."

"We can but hope," said Mary Sue without thinking.

"See?! I knew you were gay! I would write Ginmione, as I think Ginny would do better on top."

"I meant it..." the other way about the countries, but she trailed off. God wasn't it in those countries, the God she approved of. She didn't care about them.

"...then Hermione can kiss Ginny better, without Harry Potter's other third arm wrapping around her waste... you spelt that bit wrong, by the way..."

"Oh, just be quiet! I'm never writing Ginmione, as I'm not—"

"You really think Herminny, then? Your writing doesn't go that way, in my mind."

"I'm not writing that either! I'm NOT gay!"

"But you're gay. I have gaydar, and I've met you now. You don't dress gay, you don't speak gay, you just feel... right." She stood up suddenly. "Right, so I'm wasting my time with you, you little homophobic creep. You didn't email that to me; it was more like a love letter."

"A what?"

"You heard me. You were begging for my help, as they were all calling Ginny a Ginny Sue, and Hermione a full-blown Mary Sue. They ripped you down."

"They're all just trolls who can't see genius when it types it."

"Genius? Genius? You're not a genius! You're a little schoolgirl like I am."

The Feminist took back her iPad from Mary Sue's scrolling thumbs. Or typing thumbs. She'd already written the start of the next chapter.

"That's to all the trolls, that's to all the haters, and if you let me finish, that's to you!"

"'Please R/R and if I get over 100 I'll post porn,' you've just written. You can't post porn on that site, there's no NC-17 anymore."

"It'll be R-rated then."

"You'll get banned. My mum got banned, and she's on Livejournal and AO3 now."

"Has she published?"

"What? No. She just writes and does fanart."

"She needs to get on Facebook."

"She isn't. She hates it. She just hangs round the Metafandom crowd now, now that it's defunct. She likes Ravelry."

Mary Sue paused. She didn't want the Feminist to leave. She was nice, in a black kind of way. The Feminist noticed her gaze again, and flipped her braids over her shoulder. She had nice, firm tits.

Mary Sue could see her bra strap right on her neckline as the Feminist hauled her bag onto one shoulder, then the other.

"We'll talk online, if you want to talk, Mary Sue," she called as she left for another bus.

They didn't.