#I hope the new game has both voices return for their regions though!

[basil-touche]

Question for Professor Layton fans!

I'm surprised I haven't come across a poll for this already (or perhaps I've just missed it), but since I have had polls for a while now I thought I'd throw one out there...

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

An imagine for adeuce please! They hang out someplace in their hometown during vacation but awkwardly run into crewel. I think treys family bakery would be a nice location but the setting is your choice in case you want to limit the dialogue and number of characters

Ps. I personally feel like the game needs more interactions between the students and teachers. Hopefully we can get more in the new event

Teacher-student interactions are so much fun! We definitely got more from Vargas Camp (which I’m really thankful for), and I hope we keep getting more!

So far, my favorite teacher-student dynamic has been Vargas and Azul. I’d feel bad for octoboi if I wasn’t laughing so hard at his flying fails--

I really liked this prompt, so I wrote more than my usual ~1000 word imagine; please enjoy!

***Mild spoilers for chapter 4!***

Imagine this...

The Rose Kingdom was aptly named for the flowers that bloomed in nearly every corner of its land. In the summer time, they blossomed magnificently, perfuming the warm air with their heady aroma—but in the winter, those delicate rosebuds were banished by a spell of frost. Without fail, a great cold would wash over the region every year, casting their famous red flowers in a thick layer of white.

It was a pattern that the kingdom’s residents had long since grown accustomed to. This was, after all, their beloved home—amid the roses, frozen as they were.

“Oi, Deuce! Hurry it up, will you?!” Ace called, tossing an annoyed glance over his shoulder.

His friend—wearing so many layers that he resembled a moving blueberry more than a human—lagged several paces behind.

Deuce attempted to return the sass, but his words caught in the scarf bound tightly around his mouth, coming out muffled instead. The puffball on his winter hat furiously bobbed up and down, as though communicating his frustration for him.

“If we don’t pick up the pace, they’re gonna sell out of hot chocolate and fresh pastries!” Ace rushed back, grabbed Deuce by the arm, and tugged. “C’mon!! I thought you were in Track and Field Club or something—so let’s get moving!”

Deuce loosened his scarf with his free hand and, glaring at Ace, declared, “No way am I running with the roads this icy. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Hah? You serious? I already got wasted enough time waiting for you to dress in your 101 layers of coats,” Ace grumped, gesturing to Deuce’s ridiculous outfit. “It can’t hurt to be a little quicker about it.”

“Mom wanted me to stay warm,” Deuce countered stiffly. “I’m gonna respect that, no matter what.”

Ace rolled his eyes and waves dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, whatever—enough talk, we really gotta get going...!! I’ll be damned if I freeze out here.”

“The Clover Bakery isn’t that far from here, so we don’t need to rush.” Deuce indicated a warm building at the end of the block, which gave off delicious fumes—spun sugar, baked bread, and spices. “Slow and steady wins the race.”

Ace groaned loudly. At this rate, it would take all day for them to waddle on over. He was about to bury his head in his hands when an idea dawned on him.

A mean, but clever, idea.

“Betcha I could make it there faster than you,” Ace chirped, his voice casual.

“It’s not a competition,” Deuce reminded him sternly.

“No one said it was, dummy! I’m just saying I could definitely beat you at your own game.”

“Tough words for someone shaking like a leaf in the cold.”

“Oh yeah?” Ace’s grin was wicked. “Prove me wrong, then.”

“I don’’t have to prove anything. It’d be dangerous to run in this weather, anyway.”

“I bet it’s way more snowy in Pyroxene—and Jack’s probably totally fine with running through it!”

“That’s Jack, and this is me. I said I wasn’t going to rush things, and I meant it.”

“Yeah? Too bad~” The redhead gave an exaggerated sigh and a shrug. “Backing out, huh...? Oh well. Guess if you snooze, you lose...!!”

“Hey, I never said...” Deuce’s voice trailed off, for Ace had shoved by him, darting off in the direction of the bakery. “H-Hey...!! Ace...!! ACE!! GET BACK HERE!!”

He tore after his friend, shouting at him all the while—and Ace, with his (cheating) head start, only laughed in return. Deuce soon caught up (no thanks to his club conditioning), and they were neck-and-neck for first place.

Windchill, knives upon their faces. The biting cold seeped into their lungs, making it hurt to breathe as they hurtled toward their destination. Yet they sailed on, determined to outdo the other.

Both boys launched themselves at the bakery entrance, grasping the handle at the same time.

“EXCUSE US!!” Ace and Deuce yelled in unison, yanking open the door (struggling to cram through the doorway at the same time) and stumbling in.

They were greeted by a blast of warmth and the smells of sweet cakes and toasted breads. The employee manning the counter glanced up, startled at the duo’s sudden appearance. When he saw who it was that had barged in, he sighed and calmly readjusted his glasses.

He looked a little different than usual, wearing a white shirt with green plaid that showed off his broad shoulders. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal thick forearms forged from years of lifting flour sacks and kneading dough. A brown apron was slung over his attire, four-leafed clovers sewn on the pockets.

“If it isn’t Ace and Deuce. How are the two troublemakers of Heartslabyul doing?” Trey asked, his smile lopsided as his underclassmen approached.

“A-Are we really troublemakers in your eyes, Clover-senpai?!”

“I’m just kidding,” he reassured Deuce. “Well, you are troublemakers, but more for Riddle than for me.”

“Geez... thanks for the vote of confidence...” Ace grumbled, casting the third year a cheeky look. “Some senpai you are, huh?”

“Now, now... I’m allowed to have some fun, aren’t I? We’re all ‘off-duty’, so to speak.” Trey said light heartedly. “Anyway, what brings you guys to the Clover Bakery? I’m assuming you’re not dropping by just to say hello.”

“Hehe. Obviously we’re hungry, so we came by for some grub!” Ace held up his index finger. “One large hot chocolate, and a plate of assorted butter cookies for me!”

“I’m okay with a small spiced apple cider,” Deuce chimed in, “please and thank you.”

“Gotcha. I’ll get you your drinks in a bit,” Trey nodded, “but as for the butter cookies, I’m afraid I won’t be able to sell those to you.”

“Huh?” Ace’s face collapsed. “Why not?”

“We’ve only got a few dozen left, and they’re reserved for a client that preordered them. Sorry.” Trey pointed to a neatly wrapped box already set upon the counter, done up in a bright green bow.

Through the plastic window in the box, Ace could see that the cookies had been converted into little sandwiches. Each pair housed a generous dollop of cream, caramelized raisins threaded throughout it.

“What? Who needs that many butter cookies? And why are there gross raisins in them--“

The door to the bakery flung open, summoning a gale of cold once more. A bell suspended above jingled, ringing in a new customer.

“Ah, speak of deville the devil,” Trey said—while his underclassmen balked in terror.

There, in the doorway, was a tall man in black faux leather gloves and a voluminous fur coat—striped, black and white. Beneath that, he boasted a crimson turtle neck and a blazer, half solid white, the other half a black , checkerboard pattern. This, paired with his slicked back hair, steely eyes, and regal face, made him appear as though he had just strutted off the runway, were it not for the leashes he gripped.

Two Dalmatians—one in a blue coat, the other in a red one—stood alert by his feet. They caught Ace and Deuce’s eyes and barked in greeting, but the two boys were far too fixated on the Dalmatians’ owner to gush over dogs.

“Crewel...”

“... Sensei?”

Ace and Deuce glanced to one another, then back at their Alchemy teacher.

“C-CREWEL-SENSEI?!”

“Wh-What’re you doing here?!” Ace demanded, pointing an accusatory finger. “School’s out for winter break...!! You... You didn’t hunt us down to make us do our homework, did you?!”

Crewel snorted. “Spare me your theatrics, Trappola. Your instructors are granted a vacation for the duration of winter break as well. Were you not aware?”

“I-I knew that! I just didn’t know you lived in the Rose Kingdom, too!”

“I thought teachers lived at school...”

“... Seriously, Deuce?!”

“The more you know.” Crewel narrowed his eyes at Ace. “But speaking of homework, I trust you pups are keeping on top of your assignments? Being on break is no excuse to slack on your studies.”

“D-Duh! Of course I haven’t been slacking!” A lie, Ace grimaced, thinking to the piles of homework he had abandoned in his bedroom in favor of hanging out with friends. Whatever, he could just pester his brother for help later. “Right, Deuce? Back me up here!”

“I’ve been diligently studying and working on my homework bit by bit every day, Crewel-sensei!”

“... But have you done it accurately?” Crewel asked, raising an eyebrow. “Simply writing down an answer does not guarantee full marks, Spade.”

“... Errrrrr, okay, maybe I need to work on it a little more.”

“You’ve got your notes and a reliable Science Club member to count on for assistance,” Crewel quipped, gesturing to Trey with a gloved hand. “There is no excuse for why you should not do well. That goes for you as well, Trappola.”

“Y-Yessir!”

“Crewel-sensei, I think that’s enough interrogation,” Trey called, waving for him to come to the counter. Outwardly, he wore a smile, but inwardly, he sighed. For the love of the Great Seven, don’t offer my help for me. “Here, I have your order prepared--oh, but be sure to keep your dogs at the doorway. No pets allowed beyond a certain threshold for health and safety reasons.”

“I am aware, yes.” Crewel’s eyes passed over to the two scared stiff underclassmen. “... Trappola, Spade--come here. Do your professor a favor and tend to my Dalmatians for me.”

“What? You want us to watch your dogs?”

“I’ll do my best, Sensei!!”

“Don’t just blindly agree to it, Deuce!”

“It will only be for a moment,” Crewel insisted, shoving his leashes into Ace and Deuce’s hands. The boys fumbled, but held firm--the Dalmatians eagerly staring up at them.

“... Oi, don’t give me those looks,” Ace grumbled. “You’re... You’re too cute looking and innocent to be Crewel-sensei’s pets.”

The dog in the red coat gave a happy bark, as if pleased with the compliment. Its partner, in the blue coat, panted with delight as Deuce gave it a firm head pat.

Crewel received the box of raisin butter cookies--but allowed his eyes to quickly a scan the glass display case as he strode up. “Do you have dog treats in stock as well?”

“We do.”

“Then add two to my total, please--peanut butter flavor.”

“Alright, you’ve got it.” Trey ducked, retrieved a pair of tongs, and fished out two bone-shaped biscuits. He dropped them into a paper bag and handed them over to his teacher. “That’ll be--”

He was cut off by several bills being fanned out on the counter.

“I’ve ordered enough from your bakery to know the general prices,” Crewel smirked, tucking his wallet away into his massive fur coat. “If there is a discrepancy, you may keep the change.”

“Ah, thanks for that. Hope you and the dogs enjoy--” Trey paused, cut off this time by the sound of several small footsteps from the back room of the bakery. He groaned, already knowing what was coming. “Oh no...”

“Trey-nii!!” A chorus of high-pitched voices piped up, startling Ace and Deuce. “We heard bark-barks!! Did Mr. Fluffy Coat bring back his doggies?”

Three heads of green hair poked above the counter--just barely. One girl and two boys, probably elementary school age, all of them sharing Trey’s mustard yellow eyes.

“Guys, not now. Big bro’s busy with the customers,” Trey warned. He passed an apologetic look to his underclassmen and teacher. “Sorry, my siblings are excitable sometimes.”

“I wanna pet the doggies!”

“I wanna feed’m snackies!”

“I wanna dress them up!”

To the boys’ surprise, Crewel merely chuckled. “No worries. Fellow canine lovers are always welcome.”

“Mr. Fluffy Coat!! Can we feed your doggies?”

“Pretty please with candied violets on top!”

“Please, please, please!!”

Crewel barked with laughter. “Perhaps I can allow it, little ones--permitted that your brother grants his permission.”

All three Clover siblings looked expectantly at their eldest sibling.

Trey heaved a sigh. “... I guess I’ve got no choice. Go ahead.”

Excited squeals filled the interior of the bakery. The Clover siblings nearly tripped over themselves racing over to Crewel’s dogs (they nearly trampled Ace and Deuce’s feet, too).

“Hey, watch it! We’re the ones babysitting these dogs, not you!” Ace cried as the kids descended on the Dalmatians. I’ve only had these dogs for five minutes but if anything happened to them, I’d kill everyone here and then--

“We can share, Ace!”

“Spade is correct. There is plenty of the pups to go around,” Crewel interjected. He produced two dog treats and broke them into smaller pieces, offering them to Ace, Deuce, and the Clover siblings. “Go on, then. One for each of you to feed them.”

The Clovers cheered and eagerly claimed their pieces, holding them out and allowing each Dalmatian to sniff and lick the treats straight out of their palms. As soon as the food was slurped up, the Clovers proceeded to vigorously pet the pups. But the first years hesitated.

“You’re... being awfully nice,” Ace noted, eying him suspiciously. “Are you gonna spring a pop quiz on us as soon as I take the treat?”

“Keep biting the hand that feeds you, and I just might consider it,” Crewel warned with a dark smirk.

“W-We’ll take the treats!” Deuce snatched up two pieces, shoving one into Ace’s hands. “Come on, let’s not worry too much. We’re on winter break, after all. Let’s just relax while we still can.”

“You’re right, you’re right! Let’s not sweat it!”

They exchanged a brief laugh before kneeling and offering up their own dog treat pieces to the Dalmatians. Just as the dogs’ sloppy, wet tongues connected with the boys’ hands, their cell phones went off.

“... Huh? Did you just get a text, Deuce?”

“I think I did. I heard your phone ping too, though. Did you get a text too?”

“I can check. One sec...” With his free hand, Ace fished his phone out of his coat pocket and consulted it. He immediately paled. “Oh, shit.”

(“Hey, language!” Trey shouted--but his protest seemingly went ignored.)

“What’s wrong?” Deuce asked, frowning.

“Check your phone. Check it right now.”

“Is it something seri...” Deuce’s face dropped as soon as he looked at his messages. “Fuck.”

(“I said, language!” Trey tried again, only to be snubbed a second time.)

The distressing text they had received?

SOS SEND HE LP STRAND ED D IN SCAR ABIA CANT GET OUT - Yuu, Grim

Ace and Deuce abruptly stood and bolted toward the exit, much to everyone’s surprise. They paid no mind to the concerned shouts of Trey, nor Crewel, or to the excited barks of Dalmatians no longer held by leashes.

All that remained of where the duo once stood were soggy, half-finished peanut butter dog treats.

[babytaes]

The Arcane Angel

➳ 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: “ why is it that the good-looking people are always the ones with the mad minds? Several cases of dead bodies have been discovered, and they are all linked. They are often accompanied by a pair of angel wings.”

❥ 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: jeonghan x female reader

❥ 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: serial killer au, suggestive/smut, angst

❥ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 6K

❥ 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: there are some suggestive and light smut scenes, if not comfortable with them please don’t engage. Profanity. we have smirky and seductive jeonghan, what a surprise. 

➳ part of the song series 

↳ Because we don't want to behave

Apparently you lost control, you never really had before

Say, ooh you changed, you're not the same

You're different than the way that I loved you

When you turned around and heard a piercing scream, a shadow appeared from the dark woods. You quickly grabbed your phone, switched on the flashlight, and cast it at the shadow.

You couldn't tell what it was because all you could see were some big black wings. You slowly rose with your jacket and stepped closer to the forest, texting Jeonghan to ask about his whereabouts.

“Babe, I didn't exactly follow your instructions about staying in the car, but there's something wrong here. Call me please.”

As you peered up from your phone, you heard a ping from across the ground; he was now in front of you, wings and all. His black eyes gazed into your soul as blood dripped down his wings.

As he quickly caught you and whisked you deep into the dark night, a chuckle escaped his throat.

You didn't notice when he started going missing at odd hours of the day, particularly at night, but you did notice a slight shift in his mood whenever he returned from whatever he was doing.

You didn't want to question him or worse, catch him in the act; you'd understand if he were to come forward, right-?

When you stop talking to Jeonghan, he stops sucking on your neck. He dipped his finger into your folds, eliciting a moan from your parched throat. As your body whimpered as your high passed over you, he moved his digits faster and faster.

You both went limp as you collapsed on the bed, gasping for air, your body aching for relief as you slid the water from the bed stand gulping it down.

Jeonghan returned from the bathroom with a washcloth and gently washed you up while kissing the swollen region and giggling as he saw your reaction.

The aftermath was the best part of sex. How could someone who was so rough and passionate yet be so caring and kind? You leaned against your arm, watching him clean up the dried cum that had splattered all over your and his body.

You blew him a kiss as he finished you up, tossing the cloth in the bin, and ran over to your side, arms open. You scooted over to him and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his waist, nestling into his chest.

You mumbled a simple question against his skin, which perplexed him for a moment

“Do you love me?”

As he pampered you with several kisses on your forehead, finally landing on your lips as he drew you closer to him, his famous chuckles fell from his lips.

“I'll love you forever y/n” As you closed your eyes and remembered the unforgettable day when you met him on that fateful night, your chest began to move softly.

You were 23 and fresh out of college, ready to live and move anywhere you could, and South Korea was your first stop. Not only did you want to immerse yourself in the culture and admire the stunning architecture, but it was also time to reconnect with some old friends you made on a previous trip abroad.

You had a difficult time understanding the language and finding out the city's customs and all of their wonderful facets. However, with the aid of your college classes and friends, you were able to shape phrases and sentences that would assist you in getting around the area.

You texted your friend Min-Su as you walked to the airport entrance with your luggage, waiting for her car to arrive. A beep alerted you, and you dashed over to the white car, arms outstretched, as she parked and opened the trunk to load your belongings.

As she rushed over to you and wrapped you in a long-awaited embrace, she let out a cry. As you tightly clenched her waist and soaked in this quality time with her, a tear streamed down your cheek.

As you both jumped in the car, a grin grew on her face, and within minutes, you were blasting music from the aux, resuming where you all left off!

“Do you recall the group of boys we met the last time you were here?” You stood up from the sofa, glaring at her grin.

“If you start a sentence with sooooo, you know it's not going to be good.” As you sat back on the sofa, you heard her laugh, and a shadow came to a halt over your body and spoke.

“Well, that's accurate, but they've invited us to a kickback at their place. I did mention you were returning to town after a long absence.”

You jumped from the sofa and dashed to the fridge for a drink as a hand flew to her thigh as she rubbed it. You relaxed on the island while sipping your water, curious about her proposal.

“Will Jeonghan be there."  Min- Su's head whipped around, raising her brows and smiling, she chuckled in your direction.

“Perhaps you'll have to come if you want to find out.” You rolled your eyes at her and walked back to your temporary room, shouting at her as the door closed behind you.

“Text me the details, I'm going to lie down and rest my eyes, and fuck you!”

As you closed your eyes, you heard a snicker, followed by an “I love you too.”

As you blinked away the crust and sleep with your eyes half-closed, trying to block out the noise from the phone, your alarm goes off. Min-Su kindly entered the room and turned off the alarm for you. In response to her behavior, you waved your hand at her.

“Get your butt up, Luv. You must have been exhausted because you slept for three hours straight. “Jet lag.” You awoke suddenly and checked your phone; it had been 3 hours. As you trudged to your suitcase in search of something to wear, an unavoidable yawn slipped out of your throat.

When you reached your bulky suitcase, a stretch took over your body, and a hand flew to your face as you tried to relieve the pain.

“I'm not sure what you're wearing, buttttt you got an hour to get ready."

As you tried to process what she had said, your eyes flew up at her.

A damn hour, to cover up all this. Jeez

You ran over to your phone and switched on your speaker, hoping to speed up the process of getting ready after being awakened by the startling news. With voices coming through the speaker, you hurriedly applied your makeup and found some comfortable shoes before hurriedly throwing on a bag and heading out the door.

“I'm not going to lie, I'm blown away. I look so damn hot. See, Min-Su, you had nothing to be concerned about.” As you approached the entrance, she rolled her eyes at you, where you could already hear voices and music blasting.

Here we go

You cursed yourself as you remembered that you hated going to these parties when Min-su opened the door and was greeted by shouts of random shouting. You didn't like loud noises, and many people made you feel uneasy, but you were always there to have a nice time.

You clutched Min-Su's hand as she led you to the kitchen, which smelled strongly of booze. You noticed a familiar group of people approaching you from down the hall. When you realized who it was, a grin spread across your face.

“Is that Y/N, THE Y/N, it's been a long time, and we've missed you dearly.” Cheeky Seokmin hugged you with open arms, and as you returned the hug, more of the other members came into the kitchen looking for you.

Except for one male, everybody received their fair share of hugs about 5 minutes later. You noticed his figure leaning against the kitchen door frame, sipping whatever he was drinking and paying no attention to you. He had the same appearance as before, except now he had black locks cascading down the front of his forehead. He turned to you with a smirk on his face, eyeing you up and down until he left the room.

So we're playing this game are we now.

When excused to go get some "juice," you swallowed the bitter taste and let out an enthusiastic yell as you flew your hands up in the air, gathering another drink and chasing the prey out the back door towards the pool.

You were already stumbling out the door, even though you had only had two drinks. As you turned around with the biggest smile on your face, a hand landed on your back.

As he shifted you to the closest chair he could find, a perplexed Seungcheol kept you steady. He sat you down and looked you in the eyes. You weren't yet wasted, but you were on your way there, and a few more drinks would have put you out.

When he gave you his cup and urged you to drink, you looked up and took it, perplexed.

“Don't worry, it's just water,” says Seungcheol

You took a swig and chuckled at him as you gasped at his remark.

 “Wait, so the famous Seungcheol isn't drinking?”

“No, hold up, I'm the "designated driver," which means I've just had one drink so far. Someone has to keep an eye on these boys.” He rolled his eyes at you and turned to face the other partygoers who were dancing to the noisy yet soothing music.

A hiccup escaped your throat when you caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. He was looking fucking good once more. You set your cup down and stood up, bowing to Seungcheol and thanking him for the short conversation.

You gathered your courage and approached him; it was almost as if he was teasing you as if he was playing a game with you. When all you wanted to do was fu-

He had already walked up the stairs, waiting for you as you reached the back door before you could reach him. As you ascended the stairs, you saw him reach the last room and excused yourself through the crowd.

“Hello, Y/N, it's been a long time since we've seen each other.” You walked into the room to find him casually typing on his phone on the bed frame.

You sat on the opposite side of the bed, shutting the door, and crossed your arms, laughing at his remark.

“I admire how you put on this show when you begged me to return this summer. “Something must have changed,”   When he looked up from his phone as he got out of bed and approached you, he had a devilish grin on his face.

He took a step closer to you, almost whispering, as he stood over your small frame.

“Says a lot for someone who was basically begging me to fuck them senselessly. “Did you miss something or?” When you grabbed his shirt and yanked him closer to you, he licked his lips. 

“How about we pick up where we left off and see if you can keep your promise.” He pushed you down on the bed and kissed you without breaking the kiss as you tossed his clothes to the side as the last words left your mouth.

He looked up at you with carnivorous eyes and spoke loudly until he hit your core.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun; I'm so glad you're back.”

And with that, you guys were back to being your usual horny selves.

As you slowly open your eyes and search the room for Jeonghan, you stir in your sleep. It was pretty early in the morning, so he must have gone out.  Your hand grabbed the television remote and turned it on.

The news lady began speaking as you were distracted by your phone, oblivious to the events she was discussing. You dialed Jeonghan's number to see where he was. To be honest, you miss seeing his face first thing in the morning and before he goes to work.

(In News Voice) “According to recent reports, the Arcane Angel has struck once more. At 4:30 a.m., a young man's body was reportedly discovered at the scene off of 3rd Street on Seoul Ave. We've just received news that another pair of angel wings have been discovered at the crime scene, coated in the blood of the deceased. This is the third body this month, for a total of eight bodies in the last three months. To the neighborhood, we ask that you remain safe while we investigate who is responsible. Now let's talk about the weather.” 

You looked up from your phone and gasped at her words; this jerk has yet to be caught. You recall a similar case from when you first arrived a few years ago. And you thought they'd figured it out by now.

The thought of their intentions made you shiver. You took a brief breather before getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom, where you stripped off your clothes and entered the shower.

It wasn't long until you heard the door open and a few voices, as you scrubbed your body trying to figure out who it was. “Maybe he didn’t go to work, you never know with him”

 As you finished up, turning off the water and getting out of the shower, a grin crept across your lips as you heard the bedroom door open and a familiar voice ringing in your ears.

Jeonghan guffawed and dashed to your side, hugging you closely as you wrapped yourself in a robe, pouting as he leaned his head on your shoulder.

“You should have left it open; you know all access for my eyes only.”

You slapped his chest and turned to face the mirror, attempting to do your skincare. Jeonghan wrapped his arms around your neck and kissed you deeply. As your eyes were rolling, you let your neck fall into his arms.

Still, in ecstasy, you let him pick you up and put you down on the counter after he united your rob and tossed it to the side.

“The fact that you can't just let me do anything I want without it leading to more. Aren't you such a needy person?” You chuckled as he rolled his eyes at you, and as your back slumped against the mirror, trying to catch your breath, he started to eat you out while spreading your legs.

As he pulled yourself closer to his mouth in an attempt to build more tension, a cry escaped your throat.

As you tried to talk, you whimpered. “Hannie... faster—faster-fast.  As you held on to his hair for support, your words failed to come out. As he pinned you down, he started to lick harder, and slick juices poured out of you as you panted.

He cleaned the cum off the back of his hand and sucked up the remainder while he laughed at your disheveled appearance.

“Whenever I do that, you literally fall apart.  Also, get ready because I want to take you out today have”

As you walked out the bedroom door, he gave you another kiss on your wet core. You shook your head and gently got up, you laughed and called out to him, tightly securing the robe around your body.

“You can't just spring that upon me after what you just did. Also, It's not my fault you're so good at it.”

You came out of the bathroom in a casual outfit and moseyed over to the sofa, where you were surprised to see more people than you had expected. Mingyu, Hoshi, Joshua, and Seungcheol were all laughing on the sofa, much to your surprise.

You waved to everyone before sitting on Jeonghan's lap and whispering in his ear.

“If I had known there was company, I would have been quieter.” He replied with a chuckle into your ear.

“It's not because I had to prove to them who is mine and who can satisfy you as well as I can. No, it's not me.” As you lay on his lap, shielding your face, he kissed your temple and wrapped his arms around your waist.

As the discussion progressed, the subject of the Arcane Angel crept into the conversation, and everyone's expressions fell silent. You entwined your hand with Jeonghan as you gazed down at your arms. You spoke and looked at the others.

“Do you think this guy will ever approach us; we have no idea what his intentions are. He was pursuing young males last I heard.” As you looked at Jeonghan shaking his head, you felt a grip on your palm.

Why did they not want to talk about this?

 “Why don't we go out now?” Jeonghan said, tapping your arm. “The mood is dropping, and I'd like to hang out with my girl.”

You grinned and stood up, grabbing a coat from the rack and saying goodbye to everyone when you heard Jeonghan calling out to his friends.

“Please don't make a mess, and remind Joshua of tonight; we don't want anyone to be late.”

Joshua gave him a thumbs up and stood there watching as we shut the door behind them, leaving the house silent

As you got into the car, you held Jeonghan's hand as you pulled out of the driveway humming as he entered the lanes.

“So, what were you and Joshua talking about?” “Do you mind if I come?”

As he considered his extracurricular behaviors, he caught a glimpse of your pouty face and broke down inside.

With a shake of his head, he expressed his dissatisfaction

“Not this time, love, me and the guys... we have a meeting” You scowled at his remark as you cocked your head to the side. He locked his gaze on you once more, tightening his grip on you as you crossed your legs aimlessly, staring out the window, oblivious to his presence.

He has gotten good with lying, hmm?

“Babe, please look at me.” As you guys walked into the park, he jumped up and down. You laughed and didn't seem to notice his movements. If you're going to be so mysterious, I suppose I'll follow suit.

As you filmed the scenery with your camera pointing towards the lake, little ducks emerged from the water and walked towards you both. You cooed at the baby ducks waddling around the mother as you walked over to them.

As you got closer to the birds, you talked softly to the smallest one, smiling as you returned your gaze to Jeonghan.

“You know little one, don't get a boyfriend because all they do is lie and hide secrets from their lovely girlfriend.” When you turned around and saw Jeonghan, a grin appeared on your face.

As he looked down on you with a sulky smile on his face, you instantly chuckled and hugged him, telling her that you were just... partly joking.

“I c-could bring you if you really want to go so bad.” However, you must stay in the car.” You leaped into the air and kissed him on the cheek before sprinting past him to a grassy open field.

As you sat out your picnic spread waiting for your smiley boyfriend, you smiled as you saw him jogging up to you.  He arrived and sat down, removing the food from the basket and clearing space for the meal.

You took out two wine glasses, one of which you passed to him, and afterward you went to get the champagne. He watched you with fascination as you poured champagne into his glass.

“Cheers to this beautiful day, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for bringing me on this ride. I believe we both agree that this was something we all needed. With this maniac on the loose, things have been tense, but I'm glad I have you to help me stay safe through it all, I love you.”

He draws you tighter to him and smashes his lips on you instead of his playful smirk that he usually has on his face when you get all gushy. As you scoot closer to him and close in on the empty space, his tongue slips in and out of your mouth

As he caressed your face and patted the open space between his thighs, he pulled back and massaged your head. You slid closer to him and sat in between his lap, kissing his hand lightly and resting your head on his chest, soaking it all in.

It was late at night, about 12 a.m. The atmosphere was much darker than it appeared on the surface. As he pulled into an empty parking lot overlooking a forest, you peered over at Jeonghan. You couldn't tell who was there, but the other boys' cars were familiar.

With a smile on his face, Jeonghan switched off the car and faced you.

“First and foremost, as I previously said, you must remain in the car. I and the guys have this meeting and we will be out late. So, if you get tired or need to return home, I'll leave my keys with you. I'll be able to get a ride home with Joshua. If you get hungry, I have left some snacks in the back. “Are you sure?”

You cocked your head and shook your head, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What are you guys doing in the woods for a “meeting?” It seems suspicious, and it will take that long. Tell the others not to stay out late because the Arcane Angel is still out there.”

He laughed as he rolled his eyes at your joke and took a bag from the back.

“Out there is a little cabin, So it's not just meeting on a  grassy patch. And I'm not sure why they picked that name for him-- I mean for them. I suppose it's catchy. But don't worry about me; I'm capable of looking after myself.”

You snickered as you reclined in your chair, pulled out your iPad, and opened Netflix.

“If you say so, don't forget to kiss me before you go. Remember those movies where the girlfriend kisses the man and then gets murdered? That is something I do not want to happen.”

“I swear, you're such a drama queen.” He kissed you repeatedly before opening the door and waving to you as he approached the other boys near the car. He turned around and waved before walking into the woods.

You shut yourself in for a few hours by turning on the drama you were currently watching. Knowing you, it was only a matter of time before you finished the series, and this quiet time provided you with enough opportunity to do so.

Before you let loose and relax, you took out the snack bag and pulled out some chips, then hit play and settled in for the ride.

 As you turned off your phone, you rubbed your eyes and yawned. When you looked out the window, it had sufficiently darkened, and you checked the time, it was 2 a.m. To get some fresh air, you rubbed the back of your neck and opened the car door.

You gently jumped out and stretched while allowing your legs to regain some energy. You heard a scream coming from the direction of the forest as you walked around for a while. You were startled, but not completely terrified.

As you rushed to the car, grabbing your phone to record for evidence, another scream echoed from the forest.

Maybe it was the Arcane Angel? Imagine the headline, the stunning Y/N Y/L/N caught the Arcane Angel. How cool.

You grabbed your jacket and threw it on and ran towards the direction of the forest, switching on your flashlight to aid you in the moonlight.

Stay in the car, my ass.

As you aimlessly walked through the forest looking for something, you could hear the crisp leaves under your feet as you stomped on them, offering small entertainment. As you move deeper into the trees, you put your hand in your pocket and hug your cold body even tighter.

Why the fuck are they so deep. remind me to not come to these “meetings” anymore

A shadow crossed your path before you could process what had happened. It was hard to tell what it was, but it was moving quickly. It was almost gliding, more like flying.

When you turned around and heard another piercing scream, a shadow appeared from the dark woods. You flung your light at the shadow.

You couldn't tell what it was because all you could see were some big jet-black wings. When you smelt something in the breeze, you took a step back and scrunched your brows in disgust.

It smelt rotten.

When you looked around, you heard more strange sounds that perplexed you. You weren't about to become a statistic. You cursed to yourself when you sent a text to Jeonghan.

“Babe, I didn't exactly follow your instructions about staying in the car, but there's something wrong here. Please call me.”

As you peered up from your phone, you heard a ping from across the ground; he was now in front of you, wings and all. His black eyes gazed into your soul as blood dripped down his wings.

As he quickly caught you and whisked you deep into the dark night, a chuckle escaped his throat.

You screamed and thrashed about in an attempt to free yourself from his clutches, shouting to the dark night for help. Nothing worked, and as you soared through the air, not daring to look up at the figure, you knew you were in for a long trip.

When you knew you were bound in a chair and blindfolded, a chuckle escaped your mouth. From the other side of the wall, you heard a "whoosh" sound. You struggled to spin around to see who it was and what it was after.

“You know, this whole thing makes me laugh so hard. This is what happens when you're nosy. You remember, the nosy ones always die first.”

Before you could process what was happening, a figure appeared in front of you and removed your blindfold. You blinked a lot, trying to take in the light when looking at the person in front of you.

“Fuckin Jeonghan, I knew it was true; my suspicions were right. At the very least, you could've at least been more secretive about it.”

He gave you a puzzled look and coughed at you as he leaned in his chair in front of you.

“Wait, tell me what you're talking about. You knew who I was all along.”

You laughed and threw your head back, unable to believe what you were seeing in front of you. You smirked as you crossed your legs.

As Jeonghan looked at you, a gust of wind came out of nowhere, causing you to break free from the rope spinning around the wisp of cloud, exposing your true identity to Jeonghan.

"Witchcraft"

As he took in the scene in front of him, he gasped and staggered back. As he scrambled to his feet, attempting to appear presentable in front of you, he struggled to get the words out. You chuckled at him and shook your head.

“This one isn't going to sit well with the Council.”

You ran your hand through your hair and shook off the dust from your chilling entrance.

You crept up to him, crossing your arms and placing your fingers all around his neck, soaking it all in. You didn't expect him to learn about you so quickly, but I suppose things happen.

He shook his head and swept his hand through his hair, still perplexed by what had occurred.

“All right, before you start talking, let me get to start. Who are you, and what did you do with my girlfriend, and who the hell do you think you are?" 

You came to a halt and slowly turned around, chuckling in his direction. You leaned in close to his face, whispering something into his ears. The atmosphere had darkened by at least a factor of ten.

“Well, your "girlfriend" is still right here, if you must know. She's just gone for the time being, and I'll explain.   You're welcome to get a drink. I heard you and your "gang" were on their way to a meeting. “How are things going?”

He stood there watching as you talked directly into his ears; he wasn't sure if he liked this new version of you, but it was certainly sexy when you explained your part in the story.

“So, Mr. Yoon, where shall I begin?” Waiting for his answer, you cocked your head to the side and crossed your legs.

“Why don't you just tell me, how do you know the Council?” he thought as he raised his eyes to the side.

As you told him the story, you leaned forward and winked at him with an "ah" smile on your face.

“First and foremost, if you must remember, I am not from here. I'm from The Ode, a small town that you've probably heard of. Anyway, you're a bit of a prick, you know. You cause trouble wherever you go, and when you do, it always falls on our people. Aren't you aware of that-?”

“Well, it is my specialty you know,” Jeonghan smirked and snickered at you.

You rolled your eyes and motioned him to close his mouth with your hand.

“Anyway, The Council figured I'd be a good choice to keep an eye on you, kind of like a guardian angel.  BUTTTTT  I must admit, you have a knack for persuading people. To make it worse, I couldn't stay for long because I had to return to The Ode for mandatory training and other boring stuff.”

As you spoke, you looked at Jeonghan, and he focused on you as your words came out of your mouth.

“Last but not least, they assigned me to look after you after I completed all necessary training. The first time I met was the start of it all, you were still annoying back then-"

“Hey, I mean you still dated me” 

“I didn't mean to "date" you in the first place. Things just started happening and I was in too deep to get out. I'm not upset about it. I've had a wonderful time with you over the last few years, but I've strayed from the mission. The only reason I'm here is to keep an eye on you and keep you from getting into any mischief. Unfortunately, Iook at where we are.”

As he tried to hide his blush from you, he snickered. After that, he gasped and looked at you.

“So, were you sincere in dating me, or was it just part of the plan?”

When you explained yourself, you looked into his eyes. As you said, meeting him wasn't part of the plan, but you were happy you did. You loved his faults and all, even though he was an egotistical ass with a big ego.

“Yes, Jeonghan,” you said slowly as you shook your hand in front of him. I guess you have good hands and good flirting skills.”

“I mean, what else can I say-”

“Shh, I'm not done yet.”

He scowled at you, crossed his arms, and squirmed around like a child throwing a tantrum.

“All in all, I'd say. I'm not sure what will happen to me as a result of my huge disaster on this mission. It wasn't all bad, though. I had a great time with you and the guys and created some new memories that will last a lifetime. Perhaps I will convince the Council to let me stay for a while.”

He sprang from his chair and knelt at your side, pleading with you to do so.

“Please, Y/N, I don't know what I'll do without you.” He secretly peered up through one eye and put on a pouty smile in an attempt to win you over. You chuckled and shoved him to the ground, laughing at his antics.

“Sooo... Which do you want to know first, the good or the bad?'

“Bad news,” Jeonghan said quickly as he rose from the cabin chair.

“Well, the bad news is that we will have to move to a different area. You caused enough havoc in this one that the Council decided to cover it somehow.  The good news is that they're letting me stay; I think I had an effect on you.” You smirked and flipped your hair, laughing at him.

“And where did the guys go?  It's been a couple of hours. It’s 4 a.m. and they're still out?”

Jeonghan gasped and dashed to his phone, chuckling as he brushed his hand through his hair, dialing the boy's numbers.  When you came closer to the call, you could hear the boys' voices and different laughter. He gave you a sidelong glance and rubbed his head, avoiding eye contact.

“Soo bad news... We still have one more guy to deal with, and we can't just let him go. He'll be the last one, I promise. But we have to hurry because the sun is rising.”

Your face was pressed into your hands as you screamed and punched him in the shoulder. He raced around the room, avoiding your savage blows, before bolting out the door.

He spread his wings and teased you in the air as he spread his wings and hovered over you.

“Haha, you don't have any wings,” he teased as he blew raspberries at you. You won't be able to catch me.” 

This bitch really thinks I don’t have wings.

You covered your mouth to stifle the laugh that was escaping your lips, and before you could return the joke, you turned in the air, passing the moon quickly. As you smirked in front of Jeonghan, the rays of light shimmered on your velvety wings.

“So, what exactly did you say...?” 

You smirked at him and flew off into the darkness, yelling at him to hurry up.

He flew towards you, scrunching his brows and pouting.

“Heyy, that's not fair. Yours look way  cooler than mine.”

On your way to the boys' location, you saw Jeonghan flying far ahead of you. He was the sort to flaunt all of his tricks while flying.  As you peacefully watched him, he twirled and twisted in the air, gradually slowing down to fly alongside you.

“So, Y/N, would I have met you if I hadn't been so hot and a killer?” You sneered at his phrasing and pushed him away from you, which elicited a chuckle from him.

“To be honest, I'm not sure. I'm glad, though; you've improved my life in several ways. Living on The Ode became tedious after a while. I suppose you might suggest your heinous deeds drew me in.” You chuckled while covering your mouth, attempting to ignore the cringe that ran down your spine.

As you dropped to the ground, he grinned at you and took your hand, holding you close. He kissed your brow and extended his hand, which you gladly accepted and kissed.

“Now there's my lovely girlfriend.”

“So, what do we have here?” says Jeonghan. He walked up to the badly beaten man and knelt down, laughing at his terrified expression. As he looked up at Jeonghan, the man was terrified and panicked.

“Please let me go. I'm not going to do it again. Please don't kill me, I promise. "  As he turned to face you, Jeonghan cackled, his eyes narrowed into a lethal stare, and his mood darkened. When he looked up at him, the man's breath hitched in his throat. No... your th-the, The Arcane Angel,   As Jeonghan lunged at him and pulled out his heart, splattering blood everywhere as he held it in his hand, inspecting it, he let out piercing screams.

"Isn't it just satisfying, did you see him stuttering when he mentioned my name. The Arcane Angel. It's growing on me.

You look down at your shirt, realizing that blood has splattered all over it. As Jeonghan approached you, tossing the heart to one of the members, you shook your head at him.

He removed the blood that had fallen on your face with his clean hand. He smirked and kissed you on the mouth, wiping the blood from his wings.

“You're very sexy covered in all that blood,” he grinned as he looked you up and down.

You slapped his shoulder as you cringed at his remark.

“I know I am, but could we please hurry up?” I'm getting tired, and you guys still need to clean up this mess. I'll keep this one off the books, but let's get out of here before I lose my cool.” You threw them a pearly white smile as you sarcastically laughed.

The other members chuckled and nodded in agreement with you. You could see Joshua holding the lifeless man on his back as he, Mingyu, and a few others flew away, waving farewell to the rest of us made our way to the cars.

You looked at Jeonghan, who was wiping the rest of the blood off of him with some wipes he found in your bag.  You didn't mind his whole act, you concluded.

Some flaws I can live with.

As you skyrocketed through the air, waiting for him, you chuckled to yourself. He looked at you, puzzled, and threw the remaining wipes into his pocket before flying up to you grabbing your hand.

“Hey, why are you laughing at me?” 

“Because it's strange how quickly you switched it off. Like, go off actor” You bragged about him while raising your hand in the air and waving it around.

As he looked at you, he laughed and shook his head. He realized he had finally met someone who accepted him for who he was, wings and all. He loved your expressions as you continued to describe how he flew at the man like a lunatic.

He inched closer to you and put his finger over your mouth, suppressing your words.

“I know I looked cool, but let's talk about something more positive. Like where the hell we’re moving to, I didn't expect that."

“Oh, yeah, I didn't tell you, The Council will take care of that; all we have to do now is return to the Control Center in T-Minus 8 hours.”

He turned to face forward and said, "Oh," as you both approached the car. As you hopped into the car, sighing at the day before you, your wings both retracted in your backs. You planted a kiss on Jeonghan's cheeks before closing your eyes.

He took one look at your worn-out body and began driving towards home

Thanks for staying with me Y/N.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[cosmiclatte28]

Baseball (Jeno x you)

a/n : the setting is similar to the previous Jeno story (Single), but the plot and the people are different. Don’t get this mixed hahaha

for @neopalette and all Jeno stan out there! Enjoy this semi angst semi fluff friendship to lover Jeno (hopefully to lover, you got to choose)

casts : Jeno, Renjun, Yuta (just a cameo), (y/n)

“Ready for today Capt?” Your teammate nudges your ribcage and you toss a glance to her.

No you're not ready, the final game in winter quads, the final game where your team have strived so hard to reach this point. Your heart is not okay but can you tell that to your team members? No.

With a professional lie, you nod and pat her shoulder “We can do this, we'll try our best!” You smile and turn away.

It's the final round of the regional baseball game, your team has wonderfully played along the winter and this is the last game with the toughest enemy. You know your team doesn’t have a big chance, but seeing them trying their best, you play your part as a captain nicely.

“Good luck!” Yuta, the school's favorite leader of the men baseball team, pats your shoulder when he passes you on his way to watch the game.

“Oh Yuta-senpai.” You bow a little to honor him (using senpai because he came from Japan) and he smiles “(y/n)-chan, you're a great captain okay? Show them what you got!” he ruffles a bit of your hair and if this was last year, you'd melt into a puddle.

No, your heart no longer desires Yuta. He is just too hard to reach, wanting Yuta means fighting with all the girls in this neighborhood.  Yes neighborhood!

Your steps bring you to the familiar field. You wait for your turn while daydreaming. Someone has been bothering your mind lately. Jeno Lee, the school’s favorite athlete who sadly is no longer playing in the games because he shades the other players’ talent. Jeno Lee, your childhood best friend, your neighbor, your eternal bestfriend. He’s been distant lately, with his new hobby. Painting, Jeno Lee doing arts is something you never thought of, but all of this happened since he met Renjun.

Is Jeno not going to cheer on you? He never missed your games, but lately he’s so caught up In the art room with that new talented painter, Huang Renjun.

“It’s your turn (y/n)! You’re our last hope. Please score one to tie, or we’ll lose.” Your team all root for you but you’re caught in a daydream.

“Don’t worry guys, I got this.” You smile at them and walk to the base. Your heart beats faster the second you run your eyes through the audience.

“Fighting (y/n)!!” Jeno screams to you with his painting apron still attached on his uniform as he waves and smiles to you.

Your heart was beating fast because of him, not from the pressure of the game. So, Jeno did not forget you after all-

You spoke too soon, of course Renjun has to be there. There next to him, Renjun comes shouting for you too and rooting for you. Why must it be Renjun and Jeno, why. Out of all your friends, why Jeno and out of all possibilities of snatching Jeno away, why Renjun. It’s annoying how Renjun can talk about painting with Jeno heart to heart. You did not even realize Jeno is fascinated about arts that much! Unlike you who’s like a misfit, they both look like a fitting puzzle piece when they talk about arts.

The whistle is blown, your first strike.

You hold your bat tighter, you never miss a pitch, what’s wrong with you.

“Strike 2!” the referee blows the whistle again.

Jeno shoots you a concern look, but you did not miss the third shot. It’s not the best shot, you could do better but you run. Your emotion is burning your passion to run and run and ignore all the pain chasing you whenever memories with Jeno comes flooding your mind.

It was you who usually make him laugh, it was you who sits on the bench during lunch together. It was you who watched all of his games but now all he has in his schedule is Renjun and Renjun and Renjun!

You pass the first post, your legs still bring you to the second post and without having a clear mind you make your final run. Wouldn’t it be cool to finish with a home run?

“Stop!” your friends screamed at the top of their lungs but your ears are closed.

“Lee Jeno, let me show you who I am.” You grit your teeth as you make a slide to the home base only to bulge your eyes when you see the ball already touched the ground first before your leg did.

“I make our team lose.” Was all that is ringing in your head.

“Ouch that must hurt.” Renjun closes his eyes when he sees the dramatic ending and how you fall on the sledding process.

Jeno gulps, he knows something is not right. You were training for this super hard and he knows you’re the best player. What is bothering you today?

--

“It’s okay, we had great memories. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” One of your teammate consoles you when both of you are walking down the street to go home.

You nod your head “I am sorry for making the team lose.” You bow a little bit to her, she shakes it off

“Don’t worry, people make mistakes.” She smiles, then taps your shoulder “I can go home by myself from here,” she sounds rushed, you try to stop her “Your boyfriend is waiting.” She juts her chin to the dark road ahead of you and you can see a silhouette walking to you. Who could it be? You’re single

She runs quickly to the other path, leaving you alone in the empty street to wait and see the street lamp shining on the man’s face.

“Why are you walking home, your ankle is swollen. Babo-ya” Jeno squats and you’re frozen in track.

“Jump, I’ll carry you home. You did  this once for me in elementary when  I fell and you brought me home while also crying because you’re sorry for me.” He smiles to you sincerely “Let me pay you back.”

You jump into his back, and Jeno takes off your right shoes. “I have ice, hold the cold okay?” he wraps an ice pack to your swollen ankle and your eyes can no longer stay dry.

You cry, cross it out brawl like a baby who just got their candy taken away.

“How did you walk that far in this swollen ankle? You don’t want to play baseball again?” Jeno asks you as he walks down the starry night with a crying mess on his back.

“I lost! The team lost because of me and I am now carried on your back with a swollen ankle crying. I am such a mess Jeno.” You cry harder into his shoulder and he just laughs a little bit “When was the last time I see you cry? Maybe it was that night you carried me on your back because you accidentally pushed me down the monkey bars. I remembered I twisted an ankle too and you carried me home.”

You smile in your crying state, touched that Jeno still remembers what you did to him as a child. And now he is doing this to you, like a payback. Though you sincerely did that for him.

“You were doing great on practice, what’s wrong?” Jeno questions when he hears your sniffling slowing down.

You hit his back “It’s because of you!!”

“Eoh? What did I do?”

You bite your lips and cry again when you remember how happy he and Renjun always look together.

“You forgot me and hang out with Renjun all the time.” You pout knowing you sound so silly right now, but you’re sad.

Jeno chuckles “So, you are jealous?” he hoists you up his back when he feels you’re slipping off.

“I am not.” You deny it though you clearly is jealous.

“Fine. You’re not jealous. If you’re not jealous why did you lose focus earlier and hurt yourself?”

“I- I was distracted.” That is embarrassing.

Jeno smirks “Ah yeah distracted by me and Renjun standing on your side cheering for you.”

You smack his shoulder “Babo, that’s wrong!” “Whatever, are you alone at home again?” Jeno asks when your house is already in sight.

You nod “Yes everyone is away, they’re working hard for me.”

Jeno knows that, he knows your parents are too busy with their careers and you’re left alone in the house. He wonders how you can feel okay with living by yourself. If that is Jeno he’d already beg to join them instead.

“Why are you still here then?” Jeno mindlessly asks as he brings you to his living room and helps you sit on the sofa. He greets his mom, and you also know her like your own mom.

She lets you have your time with Jeno and Jeno returns after a short moment with a first aid kit.

You ask yourself why are you still here? You could’ve joined them and leave this small town, but here you are still seated in the same house of the neighbor you grew up with!

“You ask me why? Well this town has many memories to me Jeno.” You wince when he presses some soothing cream to your ankle

Jeno smiles when you start to ramble about stories of the younger days, embarrassing one like how Jeno and you were caught red handed trying to bring a cat home when both your parents forbid you. Cute memories like how you accidentally kissed Jeno’s cheek when playing around. Touching one like when you carried Jeno all the way back from the park to the home. Annoying one where he teases you when you had your first crush on the school’s prince; Na Jaemin. Everything always include Jeno in your story, or at least the ones you remember by heart.

“We sure do have lots of memories together! Is it me that makes you stay?” Jeno throws this question as a joke, but you think of this seriously. Yes, he is actually the reason why you stay here.

“I guess that is almost true. I stayed for you, my best friend, technically the one who saw me grow up and share memories with me.” You glance to your nicely bandaged foot, he put on some herbal powder there you didn’t know the name, but Jeno is an expert in sports injuries.

“There, tomorrow it’s going to turn blue, but you can use it a little.” He takes a seat next to you.

You watch him takes care of you, for you this is romantic but does he also feel it that way?

“JJa- take care of yourself better next time. Don’t hurt yourself again.” He ruffles your hair, but when you see his eye smile, you suddenly remember the conversation that has been haunting you for the past month.

--

Flashback

Renjun and Jeno were in the art room, talking in low voice as they paint a vase of flowers.

“So, I see you’re very close to (y/n),” Renjun said

Jeno smiles, the same eye smile he always gives whenever he is thinking about you, “I mean figuratively and literally. We’re neighbours.” Jeno glances to the window, it’s almost noon are you done with your practice? His mind wonders.

“Then she really means a lot to you right?” Renjun asks once again.

Jeno pauses and thinks, after a while he shrugs his shoulder “She’s a little sister I should take care of.”

You happen to be eavesdropping them and for once you hate yourself for eavesdropping. You know you should never eavesdrop, now you are the one in pain right?

With that, you leave them and walk home by yourself for the first time.

--

You go back to your house after Jeno’s mom feeds you a proper meal. You meet his sister when she enters the house and you’re leaving. She looks surprised to find you there, it’s been awhile since you visit their house despite being their neighbor.

You just say hi and quickly hide in your room, why? To cry of course. Because of the game, because of Jeno’s sweet actions, and the truth that he sees you up to “friends” only.

You tried to encourage yourself and think that there is a small chance… but the cynic side of you won and you sleep with a wet pillow that night.

But when he picks you up the next day with his bike, and helps you go up the stairs to reach your class then bids you farewell and picks you up for break times…. The flowers In your heart blooms again and the butterflies are filling your stomach.

If this is the feeling of falling in love with Jeno, you’d do this over and over again even if it means pain or it means happy ever after.

end

[ebaeschnbliah]

Still at the centre of the web ….

For the 10th Anniversary of Sherlock BBC (July 2010) the Royal Mail released a lovely collection of six stamps, that display key characters from several episodes of the TV show, as well as hidden messages only revealed under UV light.  (X)

I took a closer look at those stamps in the Anatomy of a Stamp Series:  A Study in Pink   The Great Game   A Scandal in Belgravia   The Reichenbach Fall   The Empty Hearse   The Final Problem

Alongside those stamps and in partnership with The Royal Mint (X),  a special medal has been crafted as well to ‘celebrate Sherlock’s genius – and his nemesis’ ... to explore Sherlock’s ‘turbulent relationship with arch-rival Moriarty’ as the description says. 

A little sideways glance at that medal and the collage of images with which it is surrounded couldn’t be wrong, I thought. :)

TBC below the cut .....

That anniversary medal is available in two versios (cupro-nickel&sterling-silver) and it displays:

on one side - Moriarty’s message ‘Get Sherlock’, the note he carved on the Crown Jewel glass case in TRF, to invite Sherlock to play his game

on the obverse side - ‘The Game is on’, which is meant to be Sherlock’s modern take on the literary version ‘The Game is afoot’

James Moriarty is known to be the famous archenemy of Sherlock Holmes. Contrary to canon, Sherlock BBC introduced that character already in the first episode A Study in Pink and Jim commits suicide (alongside Sherlock) in the sixth episode of the story, which consists of 13 so far. According to canon, Sherlock fakes his suicide and comes back after his hiatus. Although Jim is considered to be really dead for years by now, notes and messages of the character turn up repeatedly on various data carriers ... electronic as well as paper. 

Interestingly, it has been chosen for the 10th anniversary of Sherlock BBC to create fan memorabilia which focuses mainly on the confontration between Sherlock and Jim, whose life ended rather quickly at Bart’s roof in The Reichenbach Fall. A great honour for a character who is long dead and seems to be irrelevant for the ongoing story of this adaptation, in which another character - Mary - married John and shot Sherlock and therefore became a sort of new archenemy. Nonetheless, not only every stamp is - in one way or another - linked to Jim Moriarty, the medal and the collage of images with which it is surrounded, displays also mainly text messages connected to Sherlock’s (in)famous nemesis Jim Moriarty. 

Here’s a summery of those texts + the corresponding screenshots in the episodes. It surprised me though, that I couldn’t match all of them. There are some interesting exceptions. First the obvious ones:

A Study in Pink

Two images have been used to create this manip for the medal collage. Both are visible thoughts out of Sherlock’s mind palace. And both screenshots don’t turn up side by side. Sherlock’s entire thinking process lies between them. Jeff Hope, the man who killed the lady in pink had been sponsored by Jim Moriarty.

RACHE  German (n.) revenge

The correct letter settles into place ... Rachel

He squats down beside the body .... wet

He reaches into her coat pockets and finds the umbrella ... dry

He moves up to the collar of her coat ... wet

He inspects the delicate gold bracelet on her left wrist ... clean

... then the gold earring attached to her left ear ... clean

... and then the gold chain around her neck ... clean

The wedding ring ... dirty

Conclusions appear in front of Sherlock’s eyes ... married ... unhappily married ... unhappily married 10+ years

While the outside of the wedding ring is still showing ... dirty

the inside registers as ... clean

Sherlock has reached a conclusion ... regularly removed

The final deduction about her ... serial adulterer

The Great Game

Three different scenes from this episode have been used for the collage. Two are connected to a serial killer called The Golem, who asphyxiates his victims. One is directly connected to Jim Moriarty, who has planned all the cases in TGG. 

1- The Golem killed Alex Woodbridge, security guard and hobby stargazer. That killer appears for the first time on Sherlock’s radar when he searches on his phone for ‘most wanted’ criminals:

JOHN: He’s dead about twenty-four hours – maybe a bit longer. Did he drown?

Sherlock has called up on his phone: Interpol Most Wanted Criminal Organisations Regional Activities LESTRADE: Apparently not. Not enough of the Thames in his lungs. Asphyxiated.

2- The Vauxhall Arches turn out to be the hiding place of the Golem and Sherlock gets the address from an informant of his homeless network. It’s a note written on a piece of paper:

SHERLOCK: Hold that cab. (John trots back to the taxi while Sherlock goes over to the girl.) HOMELESS GIRL: Spare change, sir? SHERLOCK: Don’t mind if I do. JOHN (to the cab driver): Can you wait here? (The girl hands Sherlock a piece of paper. Unfolding it, he sees that she has written “VAUXHALL ARCHES” on it. Smiling briefly, he turns and walks back to John.)

3- The third image out of this episode is one of the exceptions, because they’re not imagined or written words but an actual text line spoken by Jim Moriarty during his showdown with Sherlock at the pool.

JIM: I’ve given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I’ve got going on out there in the big bad world. I’m a specialist, you see ... like you! 

A Scandal in Belgravia

It is Jim Moriarty who adviced Irene Adler how ‘to play the Holmes boys’. It is Sherlock though, who wins that game and is able to get access to Irene’s camera phone. The confirmation of his success appears on her mobil phone screen:

IRENE: Everything I said: it’s not real. I was just playing the game. SHERLOCK: I know. And this is just losing. (Slowly he turns the phone towards her and shows her the screen. She looks down at it, tears spilling from her eyes as she reads the sequence which says: I AM SHER LOCKED

The Reichenbach Fall

Three different scenes from this episode have been used for the collage.

1- Jim Moriarty sends Sherlock his invitation to play the game, while sitting inside the smashed glass cage of the crown jewels, dressed as and equipped with the insignias of a king. The message appears on Sherlock’s phone. This starts the game.

JOHN: Sherlock ... SHERLOCK: Not now. JOHN: He’s back. (Sherlock lifts his head and takes the phone. The message reads: Come and play. Tower Hill. Jim Moriarty x.

2- Sherlock searches for the traces hidden inside the residues of the kidnapper’s footprints. What might be the fifth element? Those five big questionmarks+the number 5 appear as visible thoughts out of Sherlock’s mind palace and are embedded between Sherlock’s rememberence of Jim’s threat ‘I owe you’ and Molly asking about this afterwards. It turns out to be the clue to find the kidnapped children and it marks the beginning of Sherlock’s downfall. 

SHERLOCK: I ... owe ... you. SHERLOCK: Glycerol molecule. He sighs heavily as he struggles to identify the item, seeing it in his head as: 5. ????? SHERLOCK: What are you? MOLLY: What did you mean, “I owe you”?

3- Claudette Bruhl, one of the kidnapped children, seems to recognize Sherlock as her kidnapper. The seed of doubt is sawn at Scotland Yard. Then the letters  IOU appear on the windows of a building opposite. This message proves to Sherlock that it is indeed Jim Moriarty who is behind that kidnapping case.  

LESTRADE: The kid’s traumatised. Something about Sherlock reminds her of the kidnapper. JOHN: So what’s she said? DONOVAN: Hasn’t uttered another syllable. JOHN: And the boy? LESTRADE: No, he’s unconscious; still in intensive care. (In the building opposite Scotland Yard, all the lights in the offices come on. On the second floor, spray paint has been applied to three of the office windows. Sherlock stares at the enormous letters that have been painted: I O U

The Empty Hearse

From this episode two different words out of one of Sherlock’s mind palace deductions have been used for the collage. Sherlock is working on the fake Jack the Ripper case (How I did it), which had been planned by Anderson to lure Sherlock back to London because he firmly believed the detective not to be dead. Sherlock notices the trick though. He comes to the conclusion that the fake corpse is only six moths old and its Victorian outfit had been exposed to first: sun and then: fire damage. (Sun exposure, fire damage, undead .... it’s a bit hard to not get ideas about Dracula here ... X X X  :)

The words ‘pine & cedar’ are displayed again as visible thoughts out of Sherlock’s mind palace. And just like in ASIP those words lie several screenshots appart. For some reasons ‘spruce’ has been ignored: 

LESTRADE: This one’s got us all baffled. SHERLOCK: Mmm. I don’t doubt it. (..... Sherlock sniffs at the body and tries to decide what he is picking up: PINE? SPRUCE? CEDAR NEW MOTHBALLS Moving on, he sniffs again: Carbon particulate ... He sniffs more deeply: Fire Damage

The Final Problem

Images of three different scenes out of this episode have been used for the collage. 

1- The movie Mycroft is watching in his private cinema at his place is interrupted first by images of an old family video, then by Eurus’ message on screen ... “I’m back”. It  announces the return of Eurus, the secret sister.

I’M BACK VOICE: Mycroft ... Mycroft ... MYCROFT: Why don’t you come out and show yourself? I don’t have time for this. CHILD’s VOICE: We have time, brother dear. All the time in the world.

2- Sherlock stands in front of the ‘funny gravestones’ at Musgrave Hall and puts together the dates on the stones until he has a long string of numbers in front of him ... visible thoughts out of Sherlock’s mind palace. This brings Sherlock finally the solution to Eurus’ riddle.

.... 1520 1818 2426 1617 1822 32

3- Just like the numbers, the four verses of Eurus’ riddle appear as visible thoughts out of Sherlock’s mind palace. He connects the string of dates from the gravestones to the verses. It is the second verse that has been used for the collage.

I that am lost, oh who will find me? Deep down below the old beech tree Help succour me now the east winds blow Sixteen by six, brother, and under we go! Without your love, he’ll be gone before Save pity for strangers, show love the door. My soul seek the shade of my willow’s bloom Inside, brother mine - Let Death make a room. Be not afraid to walk in the shade Save one, save all, come try! My steps - five by seven Life is closer to Heaven Look down, with dark gaze, from on high. Before he was gone - right back over my (h)ill Who now will find him? Why, nobody will Doom shall I bring to him, I that am queen Lost forever, nine by nineteen.

The exceptions ...

So far, these have been the obvious links between the images used for the collage and the corresponding episodes of Sherlock BBC. Beneath follow the less obvious and the ones I failed to find a match for. 

Blue chemistry ...

There are two episodes in which chemical formulas are displayed in the form of drawings. 

1- In The Hounds of Baskerville (S2/2) Sherlock is looking for a monstrous hound from hell. Instead he finds the H.O.U.N.D. project in which experiments had been conducted with a deleriant drug, based on fear and stimulus. The informations on this project are key-coded by the name MAGGIE (short for Margaret Thatcher)

2- In The Six Thatchers (S4/1) Sherlock tries - with the help of Toby the bloodhound - to track down the person who smashes plaster busts of Margaret Thatcher in order to find a hidden flash drive with secret informations about A.G.R.A. a group of terrorists. One of the four members had been Mary Watson.

Although there exist several drawn chemical formulas in both episodes, very similar to the one used for the collage, and despite I scanned those scenes screenshot by screenshot, I wasn’t able to find a perfect match. Maybe I still missed something. Maybe that formula on the collage is indeed just an unrelated decoraton .... But it’s interesting to note that the story connects this kind of ‘chemistry’ always to Hounds and Thatcher. (more about chemistry)

Red drop of blood ...

That blood drop used for the collage appears actually in each official episode (TAB as well) because it’s part of the intro. And for the creation of the medal collage, that image has been used two times. In the background there is a smaller and paler version, which is overlapped by a bigger and darker version in the foreground. Of that one, only the lower half is visible. Using two times the same image in one picture, always reminds me strongly of the many Pairs, Twins and Double oh’s mentioned in Sherlock BBC. 

Mostly I connect that ‘sign of two’ with John Watson. In my theory he represents the ‘fixed point in a changing age’, the ‘eternal just-friend and still stubbornly ‘not gay’ Watson, the very aspect in Sherlock’s experiment, that needs to be transformed into a modern version of the same character. In other words: the old king has to make way for the new king. According to the original meaning of the Musgrave Ritual that says about the crown of a king: “'Whose was it? His who is gone. Who shall have it? He who will come.” 

With this in mind it was easy to compare the drop of watery liquid that falls onto a drop of blood in Sherlock’s experiment, to John in the well, drenched by the water Eurus exposes him to. Emotional context indeed. :))))

When a drop of emotions/chemistry brings the blood to a boil ... (1 2)    Drop of blood 

Search: London Bridge ...

That’s the most mysterious addition to the collage. While all the other words and images can be linked to the show .... this one is the absolute exception. A ‘search for London Bridge’ doesn’t happen throughout the whole story. Not once. London Bridge doesn’t even play a role in Sherlock BBC. At least not yet ...

Bridges of Sherlock BBC:

In ASIB Irene Adler texts Sherlock that she can see Tower Bridge from her room. In TST Sherlock stands on Vauxhall Bridge while he realizes the involvement of fake AMO, Vivian Norbury. 

In TLD Culverton Smith gives the cryptic advice ‘We must be careful not to burn our BRIDGES.’ ... at the same time Sherlock walks with Faith through London and crosses Millennium Bridge and Golden Jubilee Bridge beside Hungerford Bridge.

In TFP little Sherlock stands on a small wood-bridge while he is searching for his lost dog Redbeard.

‘Bridge’ as extension of names:

In TGG security guard Alex WoodBRIDGE is found dead at the bank of the Thames, between Waterloo Bridge and Southwark Bridge.

In TSOT guardsman Stephen BainBRIDGE consults Sherlock and starts the case of the Mayfly Man. He is the first of the three guards (Bainbridge, Sholto, Mary) in this episode. (Changing of the Guard)

London Bridge though does not appear in Sherlock BBC so far. This leaves the question ... why is the note to search for that bridge even on the collage? Where does it come from? And why is it so closely connected to the episode spanning double image of the blood drop from Sherlock’s experiment? The words are displayed inside the smaller, paler blood drop. One wonders .....

(Thanks @gosherlocked​ for deciphering ‘London’ in that bridge’s name. :)))

The blue ribbon ...

Something that looks like a ‘blue ribbon’ runs through the lower part of the collage. The very distinctive loop, right under the name Moriarty, gave me the idea that this ‘ribbon’ could be the river Thames. And really, my assuption turned out to be correct, it is the Thames. What’s even better, at this distinctive loop the river coils around the peninsula named ... Isle of Dogs. 

It surely isn’t an unusual thing to add a part from the map of London, including the Thames, to a collage of images related to Sherlock Holmes. After all, Sherlock is a most famous residient of London. It it is also quite fitting, especially for this adaptation, to display Jim’s name side by side with ‘dogs’. Dogs and hounds do play a major role since the beginning and are closely linked to Jim, John and Sherlock. The barking of a dog in the night can be heard right after John wakes from his nightmare in ASIP, missing shoes lead right away to the villain (very similar to the original Baskerville case) and TFP is all about a lost dog/boy. But there is a little bit more that came to mind, when I recognized the Isle of Dogs.

TheGameIsNow ...

During the run-up to TheGameIsNow-Escape Room Event, (summer 2018) a video was released .... a call-out from Mycroft Holmes to recruit volunteers for The Network. As a part of that call-out, Mycroft mentions a ‘rush of incidents across the capital’ and while he speaks, a map of London is displayed on screen on which a red line runs along and strings together the involved locations, which are marked with the ‘eye-sign’ of The Network. And that red line stops exactly at the Isle of Dogs. That’s why I recognized that peninsula immediately.

Again ... one wonders ...

All in all, one can not deny that a lot of considerations, of work and also of knowledge regarding the show, have been put into the creation of those stamps, the medal and the images used for their presentation. And as usual with Sherlock BBC, some little intriguing mysteries have also been woven into it.  :)))

I leave you to your own deductions. Thanks @callie-ariane​ for the scripts. 

January, 2021

[marauder-exe]

Fake Dating- Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Request:  Hi! Can you write a Stark!Reader x Peter Parker (Andrew please) were they’re fake dating because May was starting to catch onto the Spider-Man gig? They end up catching feelings and are scared to admit it? I hope this made sense! Thank you!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N; id love some feedback on this! and let me know if youd like a part 2

“So, let me get this straight” Peter nodded for you to continue “You want to fake date?” He nodded again. You gave him a questioning look. “Care to explain or no?”.

“Right, right. So, Aunt May is starting to catch on. The other day, I came home all dirty from helping people and she looked at me like I just killed someone. So, you know about the spiderman thing so that's not a problem. And since your my best friend” He gave a sweet smile “i figure, when she finds out we've been ‘dating’ she’ll think thats why Ive been acting strange.” He explained like it made absolute sense. It didn't. You were contemplating throwing him off of the roof you where stood on.

“righttttt...” You looked at him strangely. “How do you know it'll work?” you had a feeling this was gonna go very wrong.

“well, you know- you know, she's aunt May, shell believe it” There was also another problem.

“You know if my dad gets wind of this he will literally kill you right? Like he will 100 percent get all the avengers to murder you, and then he’ll bring you back to life, then re-kill you himself” You stated dramatically. He paled then gave you a look. That look. The look that he had given you for the last 5 years. The ‘im right just trust me on this one’ look. 9 times out of ten he wasn't right. But for the sake of both of you, you hoped this was the one time he was right.

“Fine fine, ill be your fake girlfriend or whatever” You groaned leaning into his shoulder.

“Wow, (Y/N) act more believable” He joked.

“Ah, Peter Parker, of course ill be your fake girlfriend!” You laughed loudly, shoving him.

“Shh, she might hear you!” He joined in, throwing his head back in laughter. After the laughter died down, you lay your head on Peters shoulder. You looked out into the sunset. It made you feel weird. Peter Parker's girlfriend. No. Peter Parker's fake girlfriend.

As the night was getting late, you decided to make your walk home, not before making your ‘relationship’ very clear to Aunt May. She was sat in the living room as Peter walked you to the door. As he opened the door for you, May looked your way, so you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to Peters lips before scurrying out the door. He lifted a finger to his lips and blushed. Obviously Aunt May, who’d known you for 5 years and had never seen you kiss Peter, had some questions.

“Peter? What was that about?” Her question pulled him out of his romantic state. Its just because she's your best friend, He told himself.

“uh-h” He awkwardly laughed. Why was he so hopeless. “She's my girlfriend, now, actually” He mumbled tentatively. Before he knew it, Aunt May had gotten up and swooped him into a hug.

“I always knew you two had something going on!” She cheered. He furrowed his brows but hugged back nonetheless. Why would she think that? He shrugged of the thought and told Aunt May he was going to bed.

“Hey Parker! Hows ‘the plan’ going?” You jogged up to him as he made is way through the school corridors, clutching his camera. “She believe it?”

“y-yeah she did” He noted as you fist pumped the air. He thought you looked amazingly beautiful today. As you two stepped outside, he spotted a cleared bench, he longed to take a photo of you.

“(Y/N)?” He asked getting your attention. “Stand righttttt there” He pointed towards the clear bench as you happily jogged over and stood on it. Peter had always taken photos of you, but today it felt different. For him at least.

“Like this?” You giggled as you struck a pose.

“Yeah yeah, exactly like that” he threw his head back in laughter as he snapped plenty of photos at your ridiculous poses.

“(Y/N)! Parker!” Your photography fun was immediately stopped by the dreaded voice of Flash Thompson, making his way over.

“uh oh” You whispered to Peter as he helped you jump from the bench.

“I hear she's your new girlfriend” Flash nodded towards you, grinning devilishly. You and Peter looked at each other.

“Yeah- Yeah she is” He was trying to be brave. It wasn't working very well.

“Lay off, Flash” You both turned your heads your Gwen Stacey, the girl Peter had been crushing on for a few weeks. Although, he didn't feel like that any more.

“Come on, Gwen. You cant seriously believe this can you. Little Peter Parker dating famous Tony Stark’s beautiful, intelligent daughter?” You felt disgusted at his comment, so did Gwen. “Does Daddy even know? Nah, he couldn't, Parker would be dead by now. Or has Daddy just lost his game? Not as strong as he used to be. You could feel that Peter was about to say something out of anger, so you quickly moved your hand to hold his, even though anger was coursing through your veins

“Listen, Flash Thompson” The group of students surrounding the scene got slowly bigger. “im not dating ‘little Peter Parker’ im dating Peter Parker, a guy who is 10 times more smart and intelligent and handsome as you'll ever be. So why don't you go listen to Mommy’ nodding towards Gwen. “And lay off. Oh wait! You don't have a Mommy” You made a mock sad face then giggled. The entire group was in shock, even Peter. Okay maybe it was a bit uncalled for, but he shouldn't have insulted your dad.

Flashs’ face turned magenta as he balled his fist and tried to throw a punch. You ducked under his fist. Your dad had taught you to fight once you could walk.

“Wow! You just tried to hit a girl” You smiled incredulously, while Flash was still bright red. “Thats fine, im all for feminism, ya know, equal rights equal fights” You said nonchalantly. “You shouldn't have punched Tony Starks daughter though” You added, right as your fist connected with his jaw and our foot connected with his nether regions. You grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back as the ever expanding group cheered. Just as you were about to stand on top him, Peter grabbed you and pulled you away.

“Okay, enough fighting, avengers style” He dragged you inside the hallway.

“He deserved it for what he was saying” You grumbled.

“Im sure he did but-” Peter paused as he saw the principle and two concerned looking teachers, making their way down the hallway. “Rain check?” He whispered.

“Yep!” You whispered back as you jumped onto his back and he sped of, out of the school.

“You have to admit, it was pretty cool” You grinned at Peter as he fixed up the cuts on your knuckles.

“It was cool. You knocked out Flash Thompson. ‘The’ Flash Thompson. But you got yourself hurt in the process” He whined.

“Wow, Mr ‘im-spiderman-and-i-risk-my-life-everyday Is telling me about danger, okay I see how it is” You joked.

“You know what I mean” He grinned. As he finished wrapping your hands, you heard footsteps coming upstairs. “Its Aunt May. What do we do?” Before you could think of anything, you instinctively brought his lips to yours and your hand fell into his hair. He kissed back passionately, like his entire life had been leading up to this moment. It sent a flurry of butterflies into your stomach. He felt the same thing. His lips tingled and his hand lay on your waist. You had officially caught feelings. And so had he. You heard the door open and kept your eyes tightly shut and lips moving.

“You got into a fi-” You furrowed your brows, that didn't sound like Aunt May. You moved away from Peters loving kiss to face the door. The second you saw who it was your face turned bright red, you were done for.

“Dad?!” You shrieked. Peter was drawn from his daze, dreaming of you beautiful lips, by your loud voice.

“Mr. Stark” He almost fell out of his chair at the sight of Tony Stark, Happy and Aunt May, all stood in the door in shock.

“Alright, Spiderling, hands off my daughter” Your dad hurried over and grasped your hand, gently shoving you out the room. Of course Tony Stark knew about him.

“s-see you later, Parker” You muttered. After Tony left, Aunt May shut the door awkwardly, returning to living room. And once, he was left alone with his thoughts. His thoughts about you.

[nekojitachan]

Okay, so, the urge to write this hit me (maybe in part because of the new fic). Though I’ve been thinking of it off and on since I wrote it... two or three years ago? I finally got back to it. Raven!Andrew soulmate fic with Raven!Neil (Nathaniel). First part can be found here (I managed to find it).

Uhm, warnings for the Nest (vaguely) and for threats of non-con (that are not carried out). Mention of Nathan, too.

******

Andrew felt a manic, medicated smile spread across his face when Aaron chose not to sit next to him in the Intro to Biology class they’d both signed up for; he was tempted to throw a pen at his twin’s head before he slumped down in his seat and barely paid any attention to what was a blow-off class for him. As soon as the bell rang, he was out the door and waited in the hallway for Aaron to come out. When his brother cautiously stepped outside, he grabbed onto Aaron’s left arm and dragged him aside.

“What, no brotherly love today?” Andrew asked with a bright (false) grin. “Do I stink? I swear I showered after morning practice.” The other students gave them a wide berth, especially when they caught sight of Andrew’s black and red track jacket that all the Ravens had to wear outside of the Nest.

Aaron cursed beneath his breath as he shook his head, then switched to German. “Look, it’s for the best, okay? Just leave me alone.”

“Why?” Andrew’s eyes narrowed as he thought about Riko. “Did someone say something to you?”

Aaron ran his right hand through his hair, which was shaggier than Andrew’s (than his ‘nice’, Raven-styled haircut). “Do any of the other students talk to you? Sit next to you?” When Andrew scoffed at that, Aaron scowled. “It’s not because you’re an asshole, but because everyone here leaves the Ravens alone, it’s like you’re part of some special clique and they don’t like anyone messing with the status quo even if they’re a Raven’s brother. So just… call me or something, maybe we’ll get together on the weekends someplace away from campus, but I can’t chance losing this scholarship. I’m sorry.” Aaron gave him a casual wave as he walked away.

Andrew stood there for a minute as bitterness filled him at how easily Aaron cast him aside, focused on himself as always. It didn’t matter that Andrew had crossed the country for him, had risked his own life to get rid of Tilda for him, had joined the Ravens… well, partially for him.

The asshole hadn’t even managed to get hold of any alcohol for him yet.

He was late to his next class, an American History one, but the professor didn’t bat an eye at his arrival even though she’d chewed out another student last week for doing the same thing. Andrew barely paid attention to what was being said again, confident that he’d pass everything like he always did.

Once the class was over, it was time to head back to the Nest, what joy. He ran into Ben on his way to the stadium and basically ignored his ‘partner’ the entire time. Ben was long used to it by then, and appeared happy when they came across other Ravens, ones who would actually talk to the sophomore.

They spent time before afternoon practice working on their class assignments, which never took long for Andrew to complete. He spent the rest of the break reading through the ridiculously long email Nicky had sent him (why did his cousin bother now that he was back in Germany) and glancing through the stats on the Northeastern Huskies, the team the Ravens were to play that Friday. The Huskies weren’t in the overall top three for the NCAA Division I, but they were for the Ravens’ region so it was considered an important game.

Well, by everyone but Andrew.

Practice was the usual ordeal, was Riko acting as if he was the boss of everyone as he barked out drills and plays, as he expected to be thrown the ball as if he was the only striker out on court. It was Tetsuji watching everything with his emotionless, beady eyes as if he was a starving vulture, quick to lash out with his cane at the slightest mistake. It was Nathaniel acting as if Andrew didn’t exist at all.

Andrew was so tempted to say to hell with them all and head off campus to find the nearest liquor store, but he wouldn’t risk Nathaniel showing up the next day beaten again, or Aaron losing his scholarship.

(He didn’t care about Riko or Tetsuji fucking with him, was more than strong enough to handle whatever they threw at him, but refused to let others be punished in his place.)

Instead, he remained in the goal and blocked almost all of Riko’s shots on it just to annoy the asshole.

(He thought he saw Nathaniel smile once when Riko stalked off in anger, but the expression was gone a moment later.)

The rest of the week was spent with Tetsuji and Riko pushing the Ravens to be perfect (or damn near it) by Friday’s game, to memorize the Huskies’ stats and previous games. Considering that it was only the second game of the season, Andrew took to glaring at the soul mark hidden beneath his left armband; he didn’t believe in regret, not exactly… but he had some rather negative thoughts over Riko and Kevin bringing Nathaniel with them when then came to recruit Andrew.

The campus was festooned with black and red (remove the latter and it would fit Andrew’s mood perfectly), with students wearing Ravens jerseys. Most wore Riko’s and Kevin’s, but Andrew rolled his eyes when he saw Aaron sport his; the moron gave him a brief wave and a nod in acknowledgement, then went to sit with a group of what appeared to be new friends.

How nice for him.

Andrew felt his lips twitch then tug back into a mirthless grin when the loose sleeves of the black and red jersey that Aaron was wearing revealed that the black mark on Aaron’s left forearm was still a shapeless blob, that his twin hadn’t found his soulmate yet. Ah, so only Andrew had been inflicted with that particular curse as of yet, though Aaron was like Nicky and actually looked forward to finding his ‘other half’.

The fool.

Soon enough it was time to return to the Nest, to suffer through yet another recap of the Huskies’ players and probable game strategy (which he’d long ago memorized) before a quick lunch and then ordered to get ready for the game. Andrew noticed that Nathaniel wasn’t with the team for once, and managed to hold on to his curiosity until he noticed a man who appeared similar to the young backliner (his soulmate) stride along the outer ring; he was dressed in an expensive suit which was tailored to fit a muscular build, his dark red hair stylishly cut short (and lacking any type of curl), his eyes the same arresting pale blue as Nathaniel’s. Yet they were utterly lacking of emotion when they glanced out at court… and seemed to linger in Andrew’s direction for a few seconds.

Andrew nudged Ben’s left foot. “Who was that?”

Ben appeared stunned that he’d been asked a question. “Eh? Who?” He glanced in the direction Andrew nodded and frowned. “Oh, that’s Nate’s dad, he shows up now and then, usually on a big game day. Comes before the game starts and always leaves right after.” His frown deepened as he gazed at his racquet. “I don’t think they get along well, Nate’s always withdrawn after his visits and….”

Andrew did some frowning of his own. “And?”

Ben jumped a little at his question and pitched his voice lower. “I wouldn’t say anything, but you’re his soulmate. You’ve seen his scars.” Andrew’s jaw clenched at that statement. “Sometimes after his dad visits, he has a new one.” Ben pointedly looked away after that.

It took a minute or two for Andrew to get the urge to go after the man and bash his head in with his racquet under control (the fact that the abusive bastard had been followed by obvious bodyguards helped just the tiniest bit).

(It also raised the question of who the hell was Nathaniel’s father, what was he doing at Castle Evermore, and why Tetsuji allowed him to abuse one of his most talented players?)

Andrew was distracted from thoughts of violence by Tetsuji ordering the Ravens to warm up and participate in drills as Evermore slowly filled up with eager fans. That wasn’t entirely true as he did feel inclined to smash his racquet into one preening Riko Moriyama, busy mugging for the cameras and fans, and yet again wondered just how incompetent the doctor was who put him on his ‘lovely’ meds.

Maybe Aaron could get a nice lawsuit out of him eventually ‘snapping’ when the inanity of it all finally drove him to bash everyone’s heads in.

A boy with a heavy stick, a ton of issues and forever increasing anger management problems could dream, couldn’t he?

He was actually grateful for the damn game starting, just because it meant that soon it would be over. Andrew was slated to guard the goal in the second half, and so got to sit bored on the bench while a bunch of idiots ran around on the court.

At least, until a Huskie sub striker (#17, Donaldson, junior) seemed to grow annoyed at Moreau blocking him from the Ravens’ goal and swung his racquet into the backliner’s side, right below where the protective padding ended. Part of Andrew nodded in approval of the nasty and effective blow while another was annoyed that he wasn’t the one to land it.

Oh, and that it delayed the game’s end while Moreau was checked and carried off the court.

It was clear that the Huskies hoped to take advantage of the Ravens losing their number one backliner to an injury, but the team was composed of some of the best Exy players in the division. Hebig and Federov managed to do a decent job of defense in Moreau’s place, so Andrew didn’t have to work too hard once he was out in the goal; he only let a couple shots through, with the final score being 12-7.

The stadium erupted into cacophony when the final buzzer rang out, with the Ravens smug over their victory and the Huskies disgruntled. Andrew didn’t give a damn, he merely wanted to shower then sleep, done with Exy for the time being.

Riko and Kevin were expected to do their preening for the camera bullshit, but Andrew noticed how an excited Federov went up to Riko before the asshole left and talked to him, a huge leer spreading across his face when Riko nodded.

Something about that expression made Andrew’s skin crawl (it wasn’t the sweat drying on it or his drenched uniform); it sunk in when he was in the shower scrubbing clean.

Federov’s expression resembled Drake’s when he’d come into Andrew’s room at night.

By the time he rinsed the soap away, dried off and put on clothes, Federov was nowhere to be found. Andrew didn’t see any of the male Ravens missing (other than Riko, Kevin and Moreau), so that left the women and… and Nathaniel.

Shit, Nathaniel, whom Federov would stare at from time to time. Whom Federov would try to talk to, but Moreau always interrupted him and pulled his partner away. Andrew thought it was just Moreau being a dick, but now….

He broke into a run towards Nathaniel’s room, and was grateful for once that there weren’t any locks on the doors in the Nest as he threw the door open.

Federov had a struggling Nathaniel pinned to the bed, hand raised to hit him (hit him again, judging from Nathaniel’s bruised face and bleeding lip). The bastard looked up in time for Andrew to punch him on the cheek, which knocked him aside, and yelped in pain as he was hauled off the bed and thrown to the floor, where his ribs were stomped on twice. Hard.

“Stah- ah! Stahhp,” the bastard screeched as Andrew kicked him once more for good measure, only to find himself pulled off balance by Nathaniel.

“Stop it,” Nathaniel said, his voice weak and a bit slurred from the split lip. “You’ll get in trouble.”

“Like I give a shit.” Yet Andrew found himself unable to look away from his battered soulmate, from the hopelessness in Nathaniel’s eyes and the blood on his face; while he was distracted, Federov scurried out of the room like a four-legged crab and slammed the door shut behind him. Andrew clicked his tongue at the thought of having to track down the bastard to slit his throat before he returned his attention back to Nathaniel. “Why’d you stop me?”

“Because Riko would be mad,” Nathaniel said as he slumped back on the bed. “It’ll just make things worse.”

“Worse than someone raping you?” Nathaniel flinched at that but didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes and huddled into a small ball, his black sweatshirt torn to reveal some of the awful scars on the upper right part of his chest, including one which looked like an iron burn on his shoulder.

Andrew felt something turbulent scour through his chest at the sight, felt it rail against the drug in his blood, and spun around on his left heel then stalked into the small bathroom attached to the room where he wet a couple washcloths with cold water and grabbed a towel. When he returned to the bedroom, Nathaniel watched him with a wary gaze as he approached the bed.

“For your face,” he said as he held out the washcloths. “You might want to do something about the swelling.”

Nathaniel was still for a few seconds before he uncoiled enough to accept them. “Jean will-“ He winced when he must have realized that his partner was stuck for the night in the medical department.

“Will what?” Andrew prodded as he smiled, jealousy and anger straining at the chemical chains the damn drug forced upon his impulses. “What’s he gonna do, hmm?”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel wrapped his arms around himself and appeared younger than seventeen years old. “There’s… there’s icepacks in the minifridge.”

Andrew glanced around and found the fridge on the other side of the room, by what he assumed was Moreau’s desk; when he opened it, he found it stocked with a couple bottles of water and several icepacks. Huh, seemed they were prepared for a few booboos, how interesting.

He went back to the bathroom and grabbed a couple hand towels to wrap the icepacks in, and returned to the room to find Nathaniel gingerly wiping the blood from his face. Once it was cleaned up, he handed over the icepacks and got up to grab the large sweatshirt (Moreau’s) which was draped over the back of the nearby chair and threw it on Nathaniel’s bed. “I’m spending the night here.”

Nathaniel’s eyes (well, the right one, the left was swelling shut) widened at that. “I’m fine! You can-“

“I’m not leaving in case the asshole decides to come back,” Andrew stated as he dropped down on Moreau’s bed. “You willing to be smacked around some more?”

That earned him a virulent glare. “You’re the asshole. And how do I know you’re not gonna… gonna take his place, huh?” For all of Nathaniel’s harsh words and nasty looks, his slender fingers plucked at the sweatshirt he’d draped over himself as if it was a safety blanket.

Someone didn’t have a lot of faith in him, did they? Andrew didn’t blame his soulmate, not with everything he learned about the Nest with each passing day. “Because I’m not like anyone you’ve met before,” he said as he kicked off his sneakers and stretched on top of the duvet.

Nathaniel scoffed loud enough that his throat had to ache. “They all say things like that,” he mumbled as he pulled on the sweatshirt, his gaze downcast. “That they’re special, that they’ll treat you nice, that it’ll be wonderful.” He rocked back and forth once the shirt was on, his eyes unfocused as if he was remembering something and the words sounding rote as if they were someone else’s. “It’s nothing but lies.”

Andrew remembered Nathaniel’s father, the man with the emotionless eyes, and wondered if Nathaniel’s parents were soulmates as well. He wondered if they were one of the pairs who served as cautionary tales, as reminders that not all soulmates had happy endings.

He wondered if that’s what Nathaniel had been talking about when he accused Andrew of being just like ‘him’ when Andrew had let his frustration slip, back in the breakroom.

(Why Nathaniel was so comfortable with a man who wasn’t his soulmate.)

Andrew once again struggled with his drug-addled emotions, with the urge to break things, to stomp out of the small, black-walled room and the Nest and Edgar Allan, to carve off the damn soul mark from his arm and… and the thought of leaving Nathaniel defenseless stopped him cold. Instead, he clicked his tongue and rolled over onto his side until he faced the wall. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

Nathaniel muttered something in Japanese, but got up a few minutes later to go into the bathroom, and several minutes after that shuffled back onto his bed and turned off the light. Andrew lay on the bed and finally relaxed when he heard his soulmate’s breathing slow about half an hour later.

He didn’t get much sleep that night, not when he waited for Riko or Federov to break into the room to take Nathaniel from him.

Nathaniel gave him an incredulous look in the morning when all he did was climb off Moreau’s bed, go into the bathroom to take a piss and then leave, desperate for coffee and his medication (not necessarily in that order). He stopped by his room first to take a pill and was on his way to one of the break rooms for caffeine when he had the dubious joy of running into a smiling Riko.

Warning bells went off immediately in his sleep-deprived head, because if Riko appeared happy about something? It rarely was good for anyone but Riko.

“Good morning,” Riko all but purred as he blocked Andrew moving down the hall.

“Not until I have my coffee,” Andrew muttered as he stared toward the break room, determined to walk past the asshole.

“Ah, not quite yet.” Unfortunately, Riko was nimble of foot and one hell of a determined asshole. “I want to talk to you about last night.” When all Andrew did was grunt in response, Riko’s left eye twitched and his smile slipped slightly. “You may be pleased to know that Jean has been declared fit to play in this Friday’s game, after a couple days of light practice. That’s good because Lev will need a few days to recover from your… disagreement last night.”

Andrew focused his attention on the manipulative asshole. “From me ‘disagreeing’ with him raping Nathaniel?”

Riko’s nose scrunched as if he’d heard something disagreeable. “You’re new to the team so you don’t understand how certain things work. And that’s how if someone does very well during a game? They get something nice as a reward.”

Rage flooded through Andrew, made his hands twitch to wrap around Riko’s throat at that ‘reward’ bit despite the latest pill; he only resisted as he thought about Aaron. “Nathaniel isn’t a ‘reward’,” he forced past teeth clenched tight.

The look bestowed upon him was one of immense pity. “There’s so much you don’t know, rookie, including how wrong you are about that.” When Andrew’s hands clenched into fists, Riko wisely took a step back. “But that’s not to say that he can’t be your reward, right? After all, he’s your soulmate,” Riko taunted.

“I don’t-“ About to spit on Riko’s offer, something in Andrew made him stop. “What do you mean?” Was this a way to keep Nathaniel safe? Out of Federov’s reach?

Riko’s smile took on a predatory edge. “I’ll admit, I was skeptical when Kevin claimed you were this amazing goalkeeper, but I’ve seen your ability.” Now the smile was wiped away by something resembling annoyance. “When you bother, that is. So here is what I’m proposing. You shut down the goal while you’re out on court during the game? Nathaniel is yours.”

Andrew was quiet as he thought about that, as he thought about his soulmate being safe. “I can’t always guarantee a complete shutdown, not against some teams.” When Riko opened his mouth to argue, he held up his hand. “Up to three goals, and only during the top three teams,” he bargained. It meant he’d have to push himself, would have to work for it (dammit)… but if it meant that Nathaniel would be safe….

He was such an idiot, wasn’t he? No matter how smart he thought he was, how he’d learned his lesson the hard way, here he was willing to bleed out for a pretty face and wide blue eyes.

(For someone who might be as fucked up as him.)

(For his other half.)

“Two goals,” Riko countered, “and Nathaniel is all yours, no one else is to touch him.” Then he laughed, the sound more cruel than amused. “Well, by a Raven at least.”

“He’s mine,” Andrew bit out as he stepped into Riko’s personal space.

There was a flash of fear in the asshole’s eyes before he flashed his usual wide grin and stepped back. “There’s pre-existing claims on our dear Nate, best get used to it.” Riko gave a mocking laugh as he walked away. “You’re so out of your league, Doe.”

Andrew brushed aside the reference to his previous life as he stared figurative daggers into the asshole’s back (oh for them to be real). Once Riko was out of sight, he headed to the break room for a much-deserved mug (or three) of coffee.

It was when he was on his second refill when he realized that he desperately needed answers, and that they most likely would only come from one of his least liked Ravens – Moreau.

*******

So now I’m trying to figure out - is the Perfect Court 1-10 or 1-9???? Obviously when I wrote this, I thought it was 1-9, but I’ve seen so much artwork since then that shows Andrew as ‘10′ so....

Probably back to the new fic unless another prompt/old fic snatches my attention. Though I’m sure I’ll get back to this at some point because ANDREW AND JEAN.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Fire and Darkness

Member: Seokjin (BTS)

Prompt: Song!drabble, inspired by You Should See Me in a Crown, Bilie Eillish 

Rating: PG-13

Idea: Persephone!Y/N + Hades!Seokjin

WC: 2,421

↳ part of my 30K milestone drabble game

“More wine?” Seokjin offers, politely dabbing his lips with a dark, linen napkin.

The entire table is elegantly set with fine silver plating and red bouquets of poppies. Poppies are your mother’s favorite flower, although you could have told Seokjin she would remain unimpressed. Demeter regards the dinner before her with the stiff boredom of the upper class, deigning to dine with the lesser.

“No, thank you.” Deliberate, the goddess sets down her fork. “I rarely indulge when I travel. Tell me, daughter,” she says, turning to you. “How go things in the Underworld?”

Demeter says the word Underworld in the same way some might say vermin. Arching a brow, Seokjin faces you in tandem. His lips are pressed tightly together, as though he is trying to hold in his laughter.

“The same as usual,” you say with a shrug. “Fire. Torture. Lots of dead people.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch, though he remains silent. His dark aura is prominent, rolling off him in waves. When you first met, you found this to be intimidating but now, his power is merely a comfort to you. A solid reassurance he sits there beside you.

Demeter winces at your bluntness. “Well.” Lifting a small piece of ambrosia, she daintily chews. “At least there are only three months left of your banishment, daughter. Soon, you’ll be home where you belong. On Mount Olympus.”

Seokjin’s grip on his knife tightens. 

He harbors no love lost for Olympus, for the brothers who cast him out with nary a thought. You hold little love for the mountain either, but this is a fact Demeter chooses to ignore.

“Yes, of course,” you say, reaching out for your glass. The dark gemstones of your diadem glimmer when you turn your head. “I welcome the day.”

If your mother truly listened, she would hear the lie in your voice, but Demeter either does not, or will not. Seokjin does, though. His gaze permeates the dark haze of the room; he is looking at you, always looking at you. This is his dominion, after all – the depths of the Underworld. The endless shadow realm with which he was tasked to rule. It is his Kingdom which Demeter insults. Your Kingdom, as well, for six months of the year.

This was the bargain struck behind both of your backs.

Releasing a sigh, Demeter adjusts her fork on the table. “I am sorry this had to be done, darling,” she says, reaching out for your hand. Although you stiffen, you try not to bite back. “Leaving you down here with him... such a horrible God in such a dastardly place…”

Seokjin lifts a brow. “Horrible, yes. Deaf? Sadly not.”

Demeter continues as though he has not spoken. “Trust me,” she says. “I’m doing everything in my power to convince the Pantheon of your return.”

“Oh, please.” Yanking your hand back, you cut into your meal. “As though you weren’t part of the decision to send me here. You wanted to marry me off to the Underworld. You hoped I would mother a new God.”

Your marriage was a surprise to you, although it shouldn’t have been. These things do happen occasionally. The main pantheon of Gods convene and force the marriage of the lesser, hoping for a child who might bolster their ranks. You know this is what happened to you, even if no one will say it outright. 

Demeter’s cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. “That is not why you were sent here.”

“Oh?” Equally delicately, you set your silverware down. “So, am I to believe the official version? The human version? The one where Seokjin saw me, kidnapped me and tied me to his bedposts – yes?”

“Completely inaccurate.” Seokjin continues to chew. “I only tie those to my bed who ask to be tied there.”

You continue glaring at Demeter. “We all know the truth, mother. Let us not play pretend.”

Seokjin’s smile widens at your fierceness. He loves it when you get like this; when you are boiling over with purpose and passion. It was one of the first compliments he gave you. This was after your wedding, spoken out of surprise – that someone as seemingly delicate as you were could command such fierce anger.

Gaze narrowed, you meet your mother’s stare head-on. “Do not enter our home and proceed to spout lies.”

“Our.” Demeter’s lips thin. “My, that did not take long. How quickly the world changes, darling.”

“Does it?” You reach out, tracing a line down the petals of a poppy. Instantly, the blood-red veins brighten. “I have never truly felt Mount Olympus was my home. Not in the same way you do. I am not one of the twelve. I am not in charge of anything big, nor important and I was treated as such. Here, though...” 

You leave your thought unfinished. Lifting your gaze to your mother’s, you settle back in your seat. The darkness becomes you, glinting off your crown.

Demeter clenches her jaw. “You act as though the Underworld is preferable to Olympus.”

“Olympus has never been kind to me.”

“Nor to me.” Casually, Seokjin swirls his wine. “Namjoon has always been rather touchy about the sky and Taehyung, the sea. It is not as though I chose this land to govern, you know. Of course you do,” he says, his upper lip curled. “You were there in the beginning, Demeter.”

Demeter draws herself taller. “And yet,” she says, facing him for the very first time. “You seem to have done well enough for yourself.”

Seokjin’s smile widens. 

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, a river of glowing fire is visible. Steam curls wherever lava touches obsidian, gemstones glimmering on either side. It is a stunning visual, if a somewhat unconventional one. There is nothing like it on Mount Olympus.

“I make do,” Seokjin says simply.

Sniffing, Demeter pushes her chair back to stand. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay for that nightcap,” she says, her hands folded before her. Soft, violet light radiates from her form. “I must return to my duties.”

“Pity.” Your chair screeches when you stand, yet you pay this no mind. “The visit was too short.”

Demeter’s eyes narrow as she nods, as though in agreement. Turning around, she glides across the floor.

In any other domain, Demeter would simply vanish at will. Not in the Underworld though, where beings can only come and go at Seokjin’s behest. Gods and mortals alike must exit in the same manner – rowed across the river Styx by Charon, beneath the gaping jaws of Cerberus.

Seokjin watches your mother leave, a polite smile on his lips. When the door closes behind her, echoing through the room, he holds up a hand. Seokjin waits, listening for something before his body relaxes.

“She’s gone,” he says, glancing your way. “Just exited the palace. Charon will take it from there.”

Still staring at the door, you pull yourself from your thoughts. Turning around, you push your mother from mind as you stride towards the window. Each step you take transforms your clothes, lengthening and darkening from the springtime colors you know your mother prefers. Loosening your hair, you let this fall to your neck.

Coming to a stop, you survey the world at your feet. On your first day in the Underworld, you were determined to hate it. There were no pleasant stories about the darkest of Gods. Seokjin was rumored to be moody and fierce, with the gall of enjoying the hellish Kingdom he ruled.

Of course – as it is with most things concerning the Gods – Seokjin was not as he seemed.

He was moody, yes and he could be fierce when provoked. Never to you though, which you saw right away. The Gods warned you he loved to play games and so, when you met, you had your guard up.

Despite this, he greeted you at the gates for your arrival. Your first day was a tour; Seokjin led you through the Underworld with the same reserved politeness as a tour guide on holiday.

You saw none of his legendary fire and brimstone then – Seokjin merely nodded, leading you around the palace. His realm was nothing at all like what you’d imagined. The other Gods only spoke of the Underworld disparagingly, with a tinge of fear to their tone. They said Seokjin’s Kingdom was the land of dead things, of cold things, but now you know better.

The Underworld is a realm of fire and darkness, of whimsy and spirit – there are no limits within as to what you can achieve. In the reflection of the palace window, you see Seokjin walk up alongside you.

His appearance has also changed with the departure of Demeter. Instead of his company garments, Seokjin is dressed in a plain tunic and trousers. His hair is darker, messier and framing his face. No jewelry adorns his body, save for the gold band upon his finger.

Upon reaching your side, Seokjin glances sideways. “Are you alright?” 

Slowly, you nod. Still staring at the wasteland, your gaze roams molten lakes, rugged mountains and glimmering terrain. Beyond the river Phlegethon, which cuts through the gardens, lies the region of Tartarus wherein rest the damned. Seokjin keeps them close by, lest they escape and harm the rest of the Underworld.

The rest of your kingdom is nothing like this. Elysium is by far your favorite part of your domain – full of golden meadows which smell of baked bread, fields of asphodel which bloom in whimsical colors. Seokjin loves to change them at his fancy. He loves it even more when you do the same.

All other Gods reign over the living. They control whatever handful of mortals populate its surface and yet, beneath it all, you and Seokjin are masters of creation.

Nodding, you turn. “I am,” you assure, stepping closer.

Reaching out, Seokjin delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He looks at you tenderly, despite the fire to his gaze. In response, a blistering heat spreads over your body. Before you met Seokjin, you didn’t understand this connection. You only knew of want, of need – never of this. Never of love.

The first few months in his land were admittedly lonely. Seokjin gave you space, staying as far away from the palace as possible. He thought he was granting you a favor by this; he thought you hated him, like the rest of the Gods.

With time though, the ice between you began to thaw. Your glances lengthened in nature, touches softened and lingered. Before you knew what was happening, you were paying attention. 

You found Seokjin not as serious as the rest of the Gods said. Most of his fierceness was reserved for his domain. When he was not ruling, Seokjin dearly loved to laugh. One night he said he loved your laugh the most.

When you returned to Olympus, you didn’t realize how difficult the separation would be.

You thought you would enjoy being home. You imagined when you came back things would return to normal, but the shadows of Seokjin clung to your existence. Most nights you lay awake and imagined his touch. Most days, your thoughts strayed to his arms, to his kisses and the inexorable sound of his laughter.

Without him, the halls of Olympus felt strangely empty.

You only saw him once during those long summer months – the solstice; a night where all gods gathered on Mount Olympus to celebrate. Even Seokjin was to attend, the mighty God of the Underworld, who rarely left his realm of darkness.

The moment he set foot on the mountain, you knew. You could feel his presence in your bones, you glanced up when he entered and found him looking at you. When your gazes met, he softened. When you saw him, you strengthened.

And then, you realized everyone around you had stiffened. That was when you saw Olympus for what it truly was. As the bride of the Underworld, you finally saw how they treated him. Seokjin was a God. He was a member of the Pantheon, one of the most powerful beings in existence and yet, he was held separate.

Seeing how cruel the Olympians were tore you apart; it replaced the ache in your chest with a fierce desire.

When your six months of penance were over, you fairly flung yourself across the river Styx. Seokjin waited calmly when you ran into his arms. That was the moment you realized where you belonged. 

At home – with him.

Tilting your chin upwards, you meet Seokjin’s gaze. “You aren’t horrible, you know.”

He raises a brow. “How rude,” he says as he draws you near. “I don’t come into your home and insult your better nature.”

“This is my home.”

“Oh, right.” Seokjin hovers above your mouth. “The sentiment stands.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you chide, sliding hands up his back.

Seokjin shivers – the fearsome lord of the Underworld, undone by your touch. “I wouldn’t,” he admits, bending to brush his nose with yours.

Satisfied, your grip on him tightens. Since you fell in love, you have found parts of yourself which lay dormant before. You uncovered a carnal, seductive woman who takes what she desires. Before, you always asked for permission. Before, you always waited for permission to be granted.

With Seokjin though, you’re his Queen and there is no need to ask. He encourages you to act on your desires – insists upon it.

Tilting your head, you brush your lips with his. The moment before your lips touch, something inexplicable crosses his expression. Something almost like uncertainty, which gives you pause.

“What is it?” you say, pulling back.

Seokjin hesitates, which is unusual. Although he is quiet, Seokjin speaks his mind freely to you. Still, the shadows behind him seem to lengthen with each passing second.

“Do you…” His normally stoic gaze flickers. “Do you wish Demeter to be successful?”

“What do you mean?” 

Seokjin strokes your cheek with his thumb. “The rest of the Pantheon put you here. My brothers put you here. It was not your choice to marry me, even if I did not ask. Do you ever… wish to return?”

Your answer requires no pause. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” you say, stepping closer. Pressing your chest to his, you look up. “My burden is not what you imagine it to be.”

“No?” Seokjin seems mildly amused by your certainty. “Pray tell.”

“Perhaps it was at first,” you admit, wanting to be honest. “I didn’t want to leave the world I knew. But now...” You glance past him, to where the river Phlegethon cuts a golden path through the gardens. It sends a strange hum of rightness through you. “I would not be anywhere else. My burden now is being parted from you,” you whisper, returning to Seokjin.

Hope flickers, however brief, within his dark gaze.

“You brought me to life,” you say, hands sliding up his back. “With you,” you add, meeting his gaze. “I finally feel like myself.”

Something sparks in him then, lowering his beautiful brow to yours. “You are the only alive thing in this world,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin. “If I played the smallest part in this, my Queen, then consider me satisfied.”

“Satisfied?” you purr, lips lifted in a smile.

Seokjin’s dark gaze turns carnal. “Never,” he confesses, kissing you deeply.

   © kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Thirty One

“They’re dead.” Neville tells Harry, voice riddled with fear and sadness. 

Any pretenses of worrying about waking Ron fly out the window, “Dead? Who's dead? What is that?” He fires off, noticing the parchment in his hand. 

“Hediwg, she came, I’m sorry Harry, I shouldn’t have opened it. You and Ron were gone and I thought maybe it was about Brimblehawk. It was marked urgent I just-” 

“Neville, who is it?” He steps closer, his eyes already glossed over. 

“I-I’m sorry. Maybe if we h-had-” he starts emotionally. 

Harry grips his shoulders and shakes him, “please.” he begs. 

“The Granger’s. They’re dead.” 

At the words Harry falls to the floor, taking Neville with him. 

He didn’t know Hugo and Jean Granger very well, but these were Hermione’s parents. They gave him his best friend. And if she ever came back nothing, nothing, would ever be the same. 

“Oh Merlin. No!” He cried out, “We should’ve done more.” He whimpered, clutching onto Neville for dear life. 

Tears were now streaking Neville’s cheeks as well, “I know Harry, I know.” He cried. 

They stayed like that for a while on the floor. Eventually, Harry calmed enough to ask about the letter Hedwig brought that held the news. 

“Bill sent it. It didn’t say much, just that they were dead and that he’d be here in the morning.” He explained, holding up the parchment. It was indeed only two sentences long, “It was five when I heard the owl, I reckon he’ll be around soon. Do his parents know about…” Neville trailed, eyeing the bed. 

The Chosen One sniffled before wiping his nose with his sleeve, “He’s seventeen now so he gets to decide if his parents know or not. Since he wasn’t exactly, you know, conscious, I owled them for him. He’d want them to know. I used Madam Pomfrey’s owl. I doubt it's as fast as Hedwig’s but it should’ve reached Devon by now.” Harry answers. 

Finally collecting himself a bit more, Harry stands up, hovering over Ron’s sleeping form. 

“He’ll lose it.” He whispered after a few minutes of silence. 

Neville soon joined his side, “I know.” 

“He’ll blame himself. If he sees Hermione again, he’ll tell her it was his fault. It’s not.” Harry says, voice becoming more strangled. 

“I know that. We all do. Hermione will too.” He responds, gripping the dark haired boy's shoulder and giving him a squeeze. 

“Dumbledore must know by now, he’s got to.” Potter said surely, turning to face Neville under his grasp. 

Neville shrugged, “I’d assume, but what difference does it make?” He said weakly. 

“I wanna know how. And I wanna know who.” He said with a fire in his eyes. 

The other boy could sense as much and made a move to ease him. The last thing anyone needed was a raging Harry and a raging Ron. “There’s something else.” Neville whispered. 

At his words, Harry instantly softened, sensing the seriousness in his tone. 

He braced himself for what was to come next. 

“It wasn’t really Hediwg that woke me up.” At this Harry’s eyes squinted in confusion as Neville sighed, “Fred and Geroge’s owl, it was the one pecking at the window. They talked to Brimblehawk, they know where that place is, with the chandelier.” 

“W-what?” He breathed, never did he think their plan would ever amount to anything, but he hoped it would. More than anything. 

“Harry, when Bill comes today we need to tell him what we know. I know before you and Ron didn’t want to start anything or were scared they’d move her, but I reckon it's now or never.” He pauses, “no matter what happens next, nothing will ever be the same.”

Slowly, but surely, Harry nodded in agreement. The Grangers were gone. It felt like the worst had happened, but he knew deep down, there was potential for worse. 

Who would be next? A Weasley? Neville? Lupin? Hermione herself? 

No. 

No. Harry was through playing this waiting game. It was time Hermione came home, or what’s left of it anyway. 

“Harry?” Neville broke his daze. 

“You’re right.” He confirmed, “I just hope Ron’s awake to help. I want Hermione back more than I think I’ve ever wanted anything, but Ron, it’s like-it’s like it's killing him.” The Boy-Who-Lived whispered. 

“We’ll get her back, Harry. We need her.” 

At this very moment Ron groaned in his sleep, head falling to his other shoulder. Instantly, Harry felt the need to pull the blanket around his best mate tighter. Let him feel protected from the real world for just a little bit longer. 

“You need to come back soon Ron.” Harry whispered low enough that Neville wouldn’t hear. 

He felt Neville’s eyes burning into his back as he watched the scene. Stepping away, Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, “you never told me where she is.” He says, voice cracking, “Hermione.” He adds. 

“Wiltshire.” He responds, “A place called Malfoy Manor.” 

Harry’s entire body erupts with chills. 

... 

It wasn’t until two hours later, around seven in the morning, that Ron began to regain consciousness. 

He opened his blue eyes, doing his best to adjust to the harsh light in the room. 

Everything around him was a blur, he moved his hand to rub at his eyes, but found it to be very weak.  After blinking a few times, it seemed to do the trick as the world became clearer. 

This was not his dormitory. 

Why the fuck was he in the hospital wing? 

“Merlin, you’re alright.” He heard Harry breathe from nearby, though he sounded underwater. 

Suddenly, everything came back to him like a rush of cold water flooding his veins. 

Birthday. Chocolate Cauldrons. Romilda Bloody Vane. Slughorn. Meade. Hermione…

“M fine.” He croaks, trying to sit up. 

Harry gently pushes his shoulders down, “I wouldn’t do that. Neville’s gone to get Madame Pomfrey to give you some potions that’ll sort you out. Though, I imagine she’ll be livid, we aren’t supposed to be here this early.” 

It’s true. Madam Pomfrey shooed him away last night, but he simply returned to his dorm, nicked his invisibility cloak, and came back. 

Neville’s presence was a bit harder to explain. 

“Since you’re technically of age, your parents didn’t have to be informed, but I owled them last night. They’ll be along soon with Bill, I reckon.” He let’s slip. 

Ron could sense his best mates unease. Not only that, but why the hell would Bill be popping in if his Mum and Dad were? Something was a little off. 

“Bill?” He questioned. 

Harry’s mouth flopped open and closed like a fish’s would, before Madame Pomfrey came to the rescue.

Well, sort of. 

“Mr. Potter! Visiting hours do not begin until eight o’clock! You and Mr. Longbottom will be dealt with accordingly after I sort out my patient here! Little regard for following rules. Just like your fathers.” She tutted the last sentence under her breath as she moved to Ron’s side, leaving a blushing Neville in her wake. 

The matron picked up a glass vile and slowly tipped the thick potion past Ron’s lips. 

“Now Mr. Weasley, the bezoar seemed to do wonders for you. Most of the poison has been flushed from your system, but there are still trace amounts present. You’ll be on a few potions the next few days to get you fit as a fiddle. You may feel tired or get aches, but any symptoms besides  those you must alert me, understand?” 

Ron just nodded in response, swallowing the terrible tasting liquid as she spoke. 

“Now how is your knee?” She asked next. 

He thought about it for a moment, but any pain within that region didn’t register, “My knee?” He questioned. 

Harry shifted uncomfortably at Ron’s ignorance, as Neville flushed a bit, seeming to have realized where this was going. 

Madame Pomfrey nodded, “yes you’ve been whining about it since last night. I did a full body scan and there’s no internal injuries to it, maybe just sore?” She thought aloud. 

“My knee.” He repeated to himself, now understanding that he was not groaning about a pain in his leg, but rather, his Mione. 

“Oh, uh,” he began nervously, but cleared his throat, “yes, it’s feeling better now, thank you.” Ron said quickly, red as his hair and avoiding both of his friends' eyes. 

“Excellent. You rest.” She then turned to look over Harry and Neville for a few moments, both squirmed under her gaze. “I’ll allow Misters Potter and Longbotton to stay. The headmaster was quite insistent that Mr. Potter be present for when your family arrives.” 

“Harry?” Ron said aloud, again, getting the feeling something bigger was going on. 

The nurse nodded, “yes. I’ve been told your parents and brothers will be joining us too. I know how the twins can be, but you must remain on bed rest, do not work yourself up.” She reiterated. 

“The twins?” Now he was really confused. He’s almost positive his Mum wouldn’t allow the two of them to see him in this state if she knew how well, weak, he was. Ron didn’t need any added troubles. 

“That’s what I said Mr. Weasley. Someone will also be waking your sister soon I’m sure. I’ve been told William will also be joining at Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore’s insistence.” 

“Did they say why?” He asked next, knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere with Harry, but maybe Madam Pomfrey knew differently. 

“No, but I’m sure your family is just concerned. The Weasley’s have always been a tight bunch.” 

And that’s true! But ever since everything happened during Christmas holiday, Mum, like Dumbledore, has been very adamant that no one draw any attention. To carry on as they were. 

Surely over half of the Weasley clan coming to Hogwarts to speak with Dumbledore would draw suspicions.

And right under Snape and Malfoys nose, no less. 

“Now I must go finish filing your report for the archives. I’ll be back soon with your hourly potion.” She walked to her office before stopping, “stay put.” Madame Pomfrey warned. 

Once she disappeared, Ron was given a second to take in Neville and Harry. Both had bloodshot eyes. Harry was biting the edge of his nails as Neville twisted a piece of parchment in his shaking hands. 

Ron was awake, he was okay, so what were they so worked up for? 

“There’s something else.” He whispered, but the pair heard. 

“Ron-“ Harry began. 

Before he could finish, the hospital wing doors flew open, revealing a mass of red hair, along with Dumbledore and McGonagall not far behind. 

“Ronnie!” His Mum cried out, racing over to his bed and giving him a hug. 

He did his best to respond, but found his limbs feeling heavy, “I’m okay Mum.” He whispered. 

Over her shoulder, he didn’t fail to notice the crowd that came in. And any doubts that something bigger was going on was all but confirmed by the looks on their faces. 

Sure, they were all relieved Ron was alright, but they were not jumping for joy like he suspected. 

Like his Mum, Ginny was crying. Something he hasn’t seen her do in years, save for Christmas. 

Bill was anxiously shifting his weight between his feet, something he got scolded for when he was younger as a nervous habit. 

His father looked solemn. They exchanged a brief nod, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to smile at his son. Not when he’d have to break his heart all over again. 

The twins weren’t laughing. They weren’t smiling. They weren’t joking. They were stiff, serious, stoic, three words he would never associate with them. 

McGonagall herself looked a little misty eyed as she fiddled with her robes’ sleeves. 

Dumbledore also had an indescribable air of sadness around him. Ron couldn’t put it into words, he could feel it. 

“It’s Hermione, isn't it.” He spoke to the room. He just knew. 

They all exchanged nervous glances, no one knew what to say. 

“Not exactly.” Dumbledore answered, stepping through the Weasley’s to be right at Ron’s bedside. “I’m glad to see you well Ronald.” 

He couldn’t help but scoff, “cheers.” 

“Ronald Billius! You ought to treat Albus with respect. We are all very happy you are alright, you should be too!” His Mum called from his fathers embrace. 

“I am.” He said softer, “but that doesn’t mean I need to be treated like a kid. I feel fine. A little tired, but I am fine. So someone now please tell me what in the bloody hell is going on.” He grunted. 

Molly again made a move to scold her son, but Dumbledore dismissed her with a wave of his hand. 

“Can’t put anything past you can we Ronald? That’s an Auror’s trait if I’ve ever come to know one.” He commented, almost like he knew that was Ron’s dream. 

Well, he probably did know somehow. This was after all Albus Dumbledore. 

“Uh thanks.” The ginger said a little impatiently. On any other day he might’ve flushed at the compliment and thanked his headmaster. Right now, he couldn’t bring himself to. 

Harry can’t let this go on any longer. He just physically cannot allow another moment to pass with Ron laying there, the truth just within arms reach. 

“The Grangers are dead.” He said it quickly and lowly. 

Though everyone, save for Ron, knew the news, all eyes still snapped to Harry in awe at his bluntness. 

Ron made a move to sit up and this time no one made a move to stop him. They simply watched as his eyes widened in a painstaking state of shock. 

“No.” Was all he managed. He couldn’t believe it. 

“Son, I’m so sorry-“ Arthur began, stepping forward. 

“You promised.” He gritted to his father. 

“Ron-“ the old man protested. 

“You promised!” He yelled, voice so riddled with anguish. “You said someone went. That they put up wards.” 

“They did son, I promise you. Someone from The Order was sent, but I’m afraid the wards weren’t casted by someone with Dumbledore’s caliber of magic. They didn’t stand a chance against her.” Mr. Weasley explained, voice almost as strained as his sons. 

“S-she?” He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a tear drop land on his knuckles. 

“We can’t be positive, but the work matches-“ 

“Bellatrix.” Ron spat angrily. 

He didn’t need to see his father nod in confirmation to know he was right. 

“This isn’t right. None of this is right. She needs to answer for what she’s done to Hermione, to her parents!” His voice was rising again. Anger was easier than the guilt pounding its way into his chest. 

“It’s not that easy Ron, if it were-“ This time it was Bill who spoke. 

“I don’t give a bloody fuck what’s easy and what’s not! This is Hermione we’re talking about, that-that was her family. So when she comes home, she won’t even have a home to get back to! You do realize how fucking preventable this entire thing was? So far The Order has been nothing but fuck up.” He seethed. 

“I understand you’re upset Ronnie, but you know we’re doing all that can be done.” Molly interjected softly. 

“No you’re not!” He protested. 

“Oh yeah? And what have you been doing? Beating up Cormac McLaggen? Getting yourself poisoned?” Bill retorted, not liking his brother's attitude, pain or not. 

“William!” His Mum scolded. 

Ron ignored him, “you can bet your arse I’ve been doing a lot more than planning a fucking wedding!” 

This seemed to set Bill off, “don’t get pissy with me just because I have Fleur and Hermione is-“ 

Whatever he was going to say, no one would ever come to find out. 

Ron summoned all his strength and latched roughly onto one of his eldest brother's wrists. Enough to surely bruise. 

“Don’t you dare finish whatever the hell you’re about to say.” 

At this Bill relented, he knew he was out of line, but letting emotions get the better of you surely was a Weasley trait. 

“He is right Bill.” Fred broke from his place in the corner. 

Ron’s brow scrunched in confusion at his brother's words, but his curiosity only grew as he watched Fred and Harry exchange a nod. 

“What?” Bill voices exactly what Ron’s thinking. 

“I reckon Harry, Ronnie, and Neville have done more than The Order has.” Fred then turns ro McGonagall and Dumbledore, “no offense.” 

“Mr. Weasley, need I remind you that certain things are not to be brought up in the presence of others?” McGonagall scathes, eyes flicking to Neville. 

“He knows Professor.” Harry states. 

“Mr. Potter-“

“I didn’t tell him. He figured it out.” 

At this, the old woman looked relieved and maybe even a little proud. 

“He’s Hermione’s friend too.” Ron added, certainly more calm then the last time he spoke. 

“Plus, according to a letter Fred and I received a few days ago, without Neville’s help we wouldn’t know where Hermione is.” George told the room. 

At this everyone grew shocked, no one more so than Ron. 

“I-it worked?” He stuttered, not able to believe it himself. 

“We have the closest apparition point here.” Fred pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket before handing it off to Dumbledore. 

He eyed it for a moment before realization struck, “Wiltshire?” Ron swears he hears fear in his tone. 

“I’m afraid I’ll need to be filled in.” McGonagall spoke up. 

“You and I both Minerva.” The old man agreed, though his voice faltered the slightest. 

“I think I’m the reason Hermione’s parents are dead.” Harry piped up. 

“Harry, no.” Ron shook his head, pushing himself upright. 

“He-he told her that someone would die if she spoke to me again and…” he trailed, feeling a bile rise in his throat. 

“You spoke to Hermione?” Ginny questioned. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you Professor, I just thought- we just-” Harry was growing hysterical. 

“Calm yourself Harry, you can ease my mind by explaining what instance you are referring to.” He encouraged, voice soft. 

Slowly, the Chosen One nodded, “that-that night she was taken, I collapsed, do you remember?” He asked to no one in particular, yet everyone nodded. “Well it happened again, the same night. It was him and he h-had Hermione.” He took a deep breath, “she s-spoke to me through him, it made him mad, r-really mad. He told her if she did it again someone would, someone would d-die.” Like Ron, tears found their way down his cheeks. 

“I don’t follow Mr. Potter. If this all happened at Christmas then why would he wait?” McGonagall couldn’t help but question. 

“Because it happened again. A few days ago.” 

A few gasps echoed in the empty wing. 

“Even before everything, I had my suspicions about Draco Malfoy.” He eyed Dumbledore carefully as he said this, but the old man showed little emotion. “Hermione and Ron thought I was barmy, but then Ron started seeing it too.” 

All eyes soon fell on the bed ridden boy, silently demanding an explanation. 

“Mr. Weasley?” Albus encouraged. 

“It started on the train I reckon, Malfoy, he well bumped into me and apologized. He seemed, I dunno- sorry? But for a lot more than that.” Knowing this wasn't a satisfying explanation he continued, “then he told Katie Bell Hermione was away for a family emergency so she couldn’t fulfill her prefect duties and there was just no way he’d know she was gone. We weren’t even at Hogwarts when he said it.” 

“I see.” Dumbledore said, pursing his lips. 

Ron continued anyway, “Then I had these dreams, really bizarre dreams about Malfoy telling me he knew where they were keeping Hermione. It sounds mental, but I just knew there was something more to it.” 

Harry jumped back in, “When Hermione was able to get through to me, the only thing she said was ‘Malfoy’, that’s when I knew it was more.” The dark haired boy ignored all the astound faces and pressed on, “so we broke into his dorm.” He admitted, eyeing his professors cautiously. 

Thankfully, neither had the heart to scold him at the moment, both too invested in the story. The twins even took a moment to exchange a small smirk. 

“In his room we found a picture. The picture had the same chandelier I saw on Christmas when I first felt him with Hermione.” Harry finished. 

“And I recognized the picture from being in The Prophet and Neville, he recognized the photographer's name.” Ron supplied weakly. 

All eyes then turned to the third boy, “Balthasar Bartolo Brimblehawk. He was a big-“ 

“Wartime photographer.” Bill breathed from his spot. 

Neville nodded, “yeah and he’s got a place in Diagon Alley.” Next all eyes fell on the twins.  

George cleared his throat, eyes locking with Ron, knowing his brother was unconscious when their owl arrived. “Didn’t want to talk to us, not at first anyway. We told him we were sent from The Order and he seemed interested, but not enough to let us in.” 

“Then we told him it was a favor for Augusta Longbottom’s grandson and that’s when he cracked.” Fred jumped in. 

“Don’t tell me you-“ McGonagall began, clearly ready to chasistize the boys for disclosing private information. 

“No.” Fred promised, knowing where she was going, “the second we picked up the photo and asked where it was he wrote it for us. No questions asked.” 

“I reckon he knows exactly what goes down there.” George gulped. 

The room fell silent for a moment until the crinkling of parchment cracked it. 

“So this is where Miss Granger is?” Dumbledore asked, holding up the offending piece.

Harry shrugged, “makes the most sense.” 

“Why hadn’t anyone thought of them earlier?” Ron’s cracked voice asked. 

“Estates like the Malfoy’s and the Lestrange’s are some of the wizarding world’s best kept secrets. Furthermore, we had no reason to suspect the Malfoy’s involvement, not with this anyway. Sources said they had much bigger things going on.” Dumbledore said cryptially, not willing to reveal what Severus told him at the start of term. 

And thankfully, no one questioned it, too focused on Hermione. 

“What now?” Bill asked. 

Everyone turned to the headmaster, knowing he was the one to call the shots. However, the old man's attention was fully on Ron. 

“I believe that Miss Granger has been departed from us for far too long.” Albus watched as the bed ridden ginger’s eyes glossed over. He then turned to Ginny, “Miss Wealsey, why don’t you and Mr. Longbottom make way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Bring some back for Mr. Potter too.” He suggested. 

Though they both wanted to fight to stay, they complied, knowing Dumbledore knew what he was doing, “alright. We’ll be back soon.” Ginny said, pulling Neville with her. 

“As for the rest of you Weasley’s, please join me in my office. I do believe we have a great deal of planning ahead of us, yes?” At his words, Molly let tears streak her cheeks as she let Arthur guide her to the door. 

“Minerva, please summon The Order, we shall meet tonight.” Dumbledore said as she too vacated the room. 

Leaving just Harry, Ron, and the old professor, he turned to the bed, “I hope the next time we see each other I can offer you more than just my condolences. Please rest Ronald.” 

With that, he exited the wing as his robes billowed behind him. 

Weakly, Ron attempted to call out but failed. Part of him was overwhelmed and frustrated at not being involved in the planning. This was Hermione after all. 

Another part wanted to sob in relief at the prospect of her coming back to him. Not willing to let himself dwell on her condition. 

However, he could do neither. Not when his stomach was churning terribly as the news of the Grangers death began to settle with him. 

“I promised them.” Is all he said, round, watery eyes finding Harry’s. 

The dark haired boy knew he was on the verge of hysterics. 

“I promised her parents they’d see her again. How am I ever going to-“ he allowed himself to collapse onto his best mate. 

Harry held Ron tightly. Assuring him it wasn’t his fault as he felt his body shake with sobs. 

And maybe from the emotional drain or maybe from the after effects of his poisoning, exhaustion took over as he fell asleep, still in Harry’s embrace. 

It wasn’t until Ron’s breathing evened out did the Boy-Who-Lived spoke, “and I promise you, we will bring Hermione home.” 

[gothamcityneedsme]

I saw this bouncing around my dash and decided to fill it out myself for fun :)  I decided to not double-list any games, and I tried to mix up the companies I used too so that the list would be more unique.

Long post, so I’m doing a readmore for my longwinded part lol.

(read more)

Favorite Game: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 2: The Sith Lords - I could talk about this game forever.  How it tears apart the Star Wars universe from within, how it creates a compelling story while challenging the usual themes, etc.  I could talk for ages about the characters and how their motivations slot in place, and how this game lends itself to interpretation and analysis alongside roleplay.  It’s just a wonderful game, one I deeply love and will always love.  It’s a game that isn’t afraid to have you talk to other characters for twenty or thirty minutes at a time and honestly I’m always riveted at every line.  This game deserves the cult fanbase it has, but I think there’s a lot the fanbase misses in appreciating this game.  (Note...gameplay is a little janky and a community made mod restores a lot content that was cut before shipping-the game wasn’t properly finished).

Best Story:  Fallout New Vegas - It’s the setting that makes the story here, and all the moving pieces and factions alongside the main conflict really make this game stand out.  There’s so many little pieces to find along the way in the world and the way the main quest splits based on who you want in power feels important--and you are choosing a future for this whole region.

Favorite Art Style: The Witness - This game is peacefully wonderful with its visuals.  There are wonderful nature scenes and nests of wires and panels spreading in various parts of the island that are fascinating to look at.  The environment is half of the gameplay in most areas, so it’s important to look around even though exploration is not really the gameplay.  You find puzzles in the world, even in nature, and it’s fascinating.  The colors are bright and beautiful.  There is even a map in the middle of the island inside of a lake that helps you track your progress if you notice it (it isn’t like a normal ‘map’).

Favorite Soundtrack: Shin Megami Tensei IV - I love video game soundtracks, but SMTIV is something special.  The music booms in ways that make you really understand the atmosphere of the world, and there’s a great mix of different kinds of tracks for different places.  I love the tracks for the other worlds you enter, and the themes of the different routes are done so well.  Some of the music draws from past SMT games, but the remixes done for this game really are stunning to me, and there’s so many fantastic original tracks.

Hardest Game: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - I love this game but I literally never touch it without a walkthrough, which is why it gets to be the hardest game on the list, despite being a point and click adventure game lol.  Also just emotionally this game is challenging too, but I definitely mean this more in terms of getting a ‘perfect run’.

Funniest Game: The Stanley Parable - Trying to make this list has taught me that I don’t really play many ‘funny games’.  I don’t know if a game where multiple endings demand that you kill yourself should count as a ‘funniest game’, but it is also a game where the narrator tells you to stare at a fern and memorize its features, so....it counts.

Game I Like that is Hated: RWBY Grimm Eclipse - I’ve been playing this game since it was in early access and have loved it the whole time.  I find the gameplay soothing and fun, and I like playing the different characters.  It’s a game I play to chill out and just enjoy some fun battle mechanics.  It’s a fun game and I’ve spent over 100 hours in it, so I hope I like it, lol.

Game I Hate that is Liked:  Nier Automata - Neither this game’s gameplay or story impress me, and the fact that you have to replay basically the same stuff from a more boring-to-play-character’s pov in order to SEE all of the plot is a huge damper on the experience.  The story, to me, someone who engages with a lot of robot-focused fiction, is far from impressive or new, and it hardly engages with genre specifics at all, let alone in a new or interesting way.  I view this game as ‘a story with robots in it’ rather than ‘a story about robots’, which, to me, is a detriment.

Underrated: Nevermind - This game is amazing and very unheard of--and when it is heard of, it has been marketed incorrectly.  Nevermind seems like a horror game, and does market itself as one a bit, but it’s much more than that.  It’s more about trauma, recovery, therapy, etc.  This is a game that is so mindful about the topics it engages in that I am impressed by it every time.  It’s heavy with symbolism and character, despite lacking conversations or other similar game mechanics.  This is a lovely game that I really wish more people knew about-`p5-all of the patients are so interesting, and the focus on recovery and mental health is impressive.

Overrated:  Fire Emblem - I sort of mean this as the series as a whole really.  I have enjoyed the entries I have played somewhat, but I overall consider the series much less impressive than I was led to believe by others.  The gameplay especially is not impressive to me in any regard, even though I sometimes do find myself enjoying it.  The stories are alright, but many of them are weighed down by the gameplay and as a writer and person who likes to analyze writing, it’s very hard to do so when it isn’t able to fully exist under the chains the gameplay forces on it.  There are ways to mix gameplay and story well, Fire Emblem has not really done that in any of the entries I’ve played.  That being said, I don’t regret playing them, and I will occasionally replay, but I consider them mediocre games at best.

Best Voice Acting: Devil Survivor 2 - I love the voice acting in this game.  I feel like all the characters are really suited to their voices, and it’s really easy for me to visualize their voices.  They really bring the game to life and make both the dramatic and the funny scenes more enjoyable.

Worst Voice Acting: Jedi Knight Jedi Academy - I love this game, I really do, but some of the voice acting is janky.  Some of it is okay too--I think Kyle Katarn’s voice actor does fine, and some of the others I like NOW but hated when I was a kid, but the male protagonist voice in this game is just awful.  Which is bad when Jennifer Hale is the female voice actress lol.  His performance is passable though unless you’re playing darksided--the darksided ending to the game lacks all punch when you’re playing the male protagonist.

Favorite Male:  Battler Ushiromiya from Umineko no Naku Koro Ni - He’s the protagonist for most of the visual novels and I adore him utterly, especially once you move past episode 2.  He’s a wonderful character who I care about deeply.  I love his drive and how he fights--he’s someone who is easy to cheer for.  He matures well throughout the series and his character development is just wonderful.

Favorite Female:  Naoto Shirogane from Persona 4 - I really like how Naoto fits so well in the game, especially for being a final recruit--oftentimes the final recruit of Persona games (post 3) have a bit of a more difficult time feeling right with the group.  Naoto works really well though, and I love her struggles and story as well.  I think the difficulties she has concerning living as a woman in her field hit very deep to a problem that has existed for a very long time.

Favorite Protagonist: Connor of Daventry from King’s Quest 8 Mask of Eternity - I’m like, one of four fans of this character in the world, lol.  KQ8 is not a very well liked game and it does have a lot of issues, both with age and with how much of a departure it is from the series prior to it.  It’s strange to take a puzzle adventure game and make it a hybrid with what basically is a shooter, and it doesn’t really work.  Add to that the fact that you spend most of your time in the game without anyone around to talk to and it leads to this really polarizing and weird experience.  For me, Conner goes through what I would consider to be the ‘Ultimate Nightmare Scenario”.  Everyone in the world is turned to stone except him (and he survived out of mere chance) and so now it’s up to him, practically alone, to save the entire world.  There is no game lonelier than this.  I adore him for his bravery in the face of it, and how he just picks up to do what must be done because someone should do it, and if no one else can, then he will.  I also really love how he apologizes to people who are encased in stone while he takes money from their houses to help him on his journey.  I really do think he went back after the game was over and gave everyone heaps of gold to pay them back with interest lol.

Favorite Village:  Oakvale from Fable - The first Fable is the only one I really like, and it was one of the games I played when I was little, so the hometown in the game always meant a lot to me.  I like how you grow up there and how your tragic backstory is there--and then how you get to return to the town years later after you’ve come into your own, and you can see it completely rebuilt.  I like to spend a lot of my time in this town, just wandering around it and playing the minigames.  Even though I have a house in every town, Oakvale is where my hero calls home.

Most Hated Character:  Merril from Dragon Age 2 - I don’t really want to lay into how I feel about Merril, but what I will say is that it was suggested to me that I totally ignore her when playing, and I did so.  I only met her for her quest, dropped her off in town, and literally never spoke to her or interacted for the rest of the game.  I had a much better experience for it, honestly.  She appeared after I made my choice in the end of the game, which felt weird since I hadn’t spoken to her in several ingame years, but other than that, the game was totally fine without her.  I sort of just wish you could kill characters in DA2 the way you can in DAO, then I’d just do that, tbh.  It doesn’t suit very many (or any) of the characters I rp in DA2 to keep her around or support her in any way.

First Game I Played: Mixed up Mother Goose Deluxe - I’m not actually sure if this is the FIRST game I’ve ever played or not, but it’s one of the first I played alone as a kid.  I really loved it--this is probably what created my love for point and click adventures, and the game was very silly and fun.

Favorite Company: Bioware - I’ve always been a sucker for Bioware games, ever since Knights of the Old Republic 1 was my favorite childhood game.  I love how they do stories and party members, and while I’m not a fan of all of their games, I really love what they’ve made and their style of storytelling and character driven plot.  Even though sometimes their stories get cliche, I think the suit video games well and most of my early gaming was within their games.

Hated Company: EA - Bioware truly only started to go to shit after the EA acquisition, so I fucking hate EA.   I know Bioware had issues before EA too, but I definitely don’t think EA has helped the situation whatsoever.

Depressing Game: The Beginner’s Guide - I relate to this game as a creator and a writer, and it affects me deeply because of the story it tells and the questions it raises.  It makes me reflect on how I think of myself as a creator, and it reminds me of friendships I used to have.

Creepy Game:  The Path - God, I love this game.  It’s just aimlessly wandering around and finding symbolic scenery and watching your current character comment on it.  Then, you go off to find your girl’s wolf, and each one is different and unique to her, and you watch it ‘kill’ her--and facing her wolf is the only way each girl can truly mature.  Whenever you get to grandmother’s house, the camera switches to first person, and your eyes keep closing, so you can only see while clicking to move.  It forces you to keep moving so that you can see, but since you are moving, you only get to see things somewhat vaguely.  It’s got a great atmosphere, and I love the symbolic storytelling.

Happy Game: Eastshade - This game is so sweet.  There’s some drama around to with many of the quests, but I like this as an rpg without combat, and I think this would be a really good kids game.  There’s a lot to see and explore, and the game was made to be really pretty so that you want to paint several aspects of it.  It’s really lovely to just wander around in this game and bike around the area, painting anything that suits your fancy.  As long as you don’t finish the main quest, you’re free to wander, and materials do respawn, so you essentially can infinitely paint once you get far enough.

Favorite Ending: Virtue’s Last Reward - I love the questions this game asks and where the ending goes.  It thematically ties together--the whole reason the game itself exists is to get the attention of a ‘higher being’--the player, essentially.  I love how it plays with that concept, and even though the final game in the series doesn’t entirely pick this idea up where this game left it, standalone this game is stunning in how it comes together.

[luthienebonyx]

2020 Writing in Review

Total number of completed stories: Four (not counting tumblr ficlets and such)

Total word count: Somewhere in the region of 150k

Fandoms written in: Game of Thrones, Queen’s Thief - Megan Whalen Turner, and Friday’s Child - Georgette Heyer.

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? In 2019 I wrote almost 230k in seven months. I knew there was no way I’d be that prolific in 2020. As it turned out, I was right, but for the wrong reasons. I did start off the year writing at a slower pace than the last, but then 2020 happened to me in several different ways at once and I didn’t write at all for three months. But THEN I got my writing mojo back and wrote 50k between the beginning of November and the end of December so... I don’t know. It definitely wasn’t expected, whatever else you call it.

What’s your own favorite story of the year? There were two stories that I absolutely LOVED writing, and I can’t choose between them, so I’ll talk about both.

The first happened completely by accident. In October, I read all six of the Queen’s Thief novels by Megan Whalen Turner, and to my surprise the narrator of book 5 grabbed me by the throat and wouldn’t let up until I’d written a story for him. That ended up taking the whole of November, and became Twelve Days. It was a very different story from anything I’d written recently: first person, spare(ish) style, slash, and a very, VERY distinctive narrative voice. I think Chapter 9 was probably the best bit of writing I’d done in a while.

However, at the beginning of December I had finished Twelve Days, and so started work on That Greek Thing - which is the second story I want to talk about. It is for the novel Friday’s Child by Georgette Heyer and is a story I’ve had in the back of my mind to write for literally twenty years. It also has a very distinctive narrative voice, but in a completely different way from Twelve Days. i’d wanted to write Heyer fic for years and never quite got up the nerve. This time, I finally wrote not just a Heyer fic, but this particular Heyer fic, and I loved every moment of writing it. Heyer’s style is very, VERY different from MWT’s, so it took me a little while to move mentally from one to the other, but once I got into the groove of it... 

That Greek Thing wound up being 22k compared to Twelve Days’ 24k, but written in half the time. I mean, the fact that I was also writing the Heyer fic for Yuletide and so I was writing to a deadline also helped speed things along... But yeah, I’d been talking about writing that fic for 20 years, and I think it actually did turn out to be the story that I wanted it to be and hoped it would be.

Did you take any writing risks this year? I wrote slash for the first time in nine years (Twelve Days), and then I wrote another slash story (That Greek Thing) right after. Not a risk, exactly, but certainly a change from what I’ve been writing for a while now. I guess writing in first-person was a bit of a risk. I hadn’t done that in a very long time, and it was always possible that I could have fucked it up. I also wrote in a teensy fandom (Queen’s Thief) where I was completely unknown, and that’s always a bit of a risk in terms of getting people to engage with you.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? Hahaha. FINISH THINGS. First up, I need to finish my chill fest fic Doubt Truth to be a Liar. After that, there are my other four JB WIPs to see to. Once I get all of those sorted out, I will probably return to some profic projects that I started a few years ago.

Best story of the year? I’m not sure. It’s either Twelve Days or That Greek Thing, though. They’re so different that I honestly can’t say for sure which is better. I love the very angsty chapter in Twelve Days and I think it’s the best single bit of writing I’ve done in a while. Otoh, I love all the comedy in That Greek Thing, and the way some scenes go comedy-porn-comedy. Which is better? I don’t know, but I love them both.

Most popular story of the year? The Personal Touch, my JB physiotherapist modern AU. For some reason eight chapters of massages and sexual tension and wanking, followed by a sex scene that sprawled across two chapters, a semi-break-up and finally a happy ending appealed to a lot of readers. Ah, fandom. 😉

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Oh, easily, EASILY Twelve Days. Teensy fandom, unknown writer - there was never going to be a lot of notice shown. I’m pretty sure it’s the only story I’ve posted in 21 years of writing fanfic that had entire chapters that didn’t get a single comment.

Most fun story to write: That Greek Thing. I made myself laugh gleefully through most of it, and then the angst and hurt/comfort hit and I had even more fun!

Most unintentionally telling story: Heh. The Personal Touch for the physiotherapy stuff minus the sexual tension. I’ve been on a lot of treatment tables over the years...

Biggest disappointment: The usual one: that I have a finite amount of energy, so I can either do a reasonable amount of writing or do a reasonable amount of reading - but I can’t do both. So, once again, a lot of the stories that I really wanted to read went by the wayside.

Biggest surprise: That I wrote not one but two slash stories this year - and both of them featured intercrural sex. Not for the hell of it, either. Both stories needed it, but for very different reasons.

[leftenant-sinani]

Tales from Grudgewill - Love of Our Lord  Chapter 1

For some time now... i was thinking that maybe i should send my newest piece  here. “Love of Our Lord”. Its basically a story about Lord Valnin (Not Uy-Mal Dzerma but Trildyn, because its alternate universe) dealing with his most recent problems like diplomacy, plague or love. The universe ive created is called “Grudgewill”, a fantasy universe based on Elder Scrolls, WarCraft, Dragon Age and perhaps a little on Warhammer Fantasy. I will send details about it later, but for now.. heres this little FanFiction ive made. This is just first chapter, i have second ready and im working on the third one, its going to be a long way. And i want to thank @avengercommander and @witharsenicsauce for inspiring me to do this, for helping me with writing and also for being very good friends, i cannot thank them enough for either. Anyway, i hope you will like it. ;)

Note : Almost all of the Valnin's lovers are characters taken from other games, most importantly Mass Effect : Andromeda and XCOM 2 : War of The Chosen, you can Google them, so you will know how they at least look like, for the Trio of Masters, Google up XCOM 2 Chosen. As for the Valnin himself, just Google up a Dark Elf from Elder Scrolls series, if you want some picture in particular, he would look like this most probably : cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/016/494/335/large/shamine-king-portrait-practice-adana-02-da.jpg?1552379572, Art by Shamine King And i know this is a huge crossover thing, and in my official lore this will not be a thing, but hey, i started this story when i was drunk and i want to finish it, so i don't care anymore. smileyface  Also, please excuse the grammar mistakes, english is not my first language, but i am trying my best.

Chapter I : First Things First

Lord Valnin was in difficult situation right now. He had no idea what to do first. The two other rulers of Icestand required his help with the plague in their regions, half of his army was demoralized because of this undead menace that was coming from the South, and there was also this most difficult choice, he would have to make... to choose one of his loyal companions, who would share their life with him until the very end of all things, despite the sad fact most of them will not live as long as Valnin. The Lord dropped into his  chair, thinking about what to do, but all he wanted, was peace and quiet for at least a day or two. His blood red eyes focused on the rise of sun, its beams already touching Valnin's light blue skin. "Sometimes... I wish I didn't accept Watcher's offer. It surely would be easier than having to rule a kingdom" He said quietly to himself, so no one would hear him. As he continued to watch the dawn, his mind came with an idea after a minute. "First things first, I have to deal with this little love problem. After all, it's the closest problem I have here" He told himself quietly again. But then he frowned a little, as he was thinking about who to take. He couldn't think of who to choose. After all, he loved them all equally. He knew that having six lovers would be a bit crazy, but after all, no one was stopping him from doing so, unless one of them would disagree. "Hmm... It is an insane idea, Valnin, but you know you just cannot choose between them, you would then feel bad for the rest" He said with a bit of a louder tone this time. He then realized it, and stayed quiet for at least ten seconds, hoping that no one heard has him. Silence. He sighed a sigh of relief. He then felt odd, as he realized that he was pretty paranoid about all this. "Being a ruler will kill you one day, Trildyn" He told himself again in quiet tone.

It was a normal day in Third Kindgom of Icestand. Valnin's experts, soldiers and servants were doing their standard routines, and all the work he had was tons of paperwork again. It wasn't really easy for his mental health, since he had a lot of problems of his own, and yet, he still had to deal with things in his own kingdom, in kingdoms of his co-rulers  and also with things from other provinces and most of all, the Emerald Empire. It surely wasn't boring but more like irritating. Doing all the same things all over again despite the fact they should've been done already can be really mind-bothering. It took almost three quarters of the day to get all the formal things done. The Lord was sitting in his throne, his palm on his left cheek, enjoying the peace he finally got for the rest of the day. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about what he should do now that everyday's work has been done. His thoughts were interrupted by a voice of his runner who just got here "Your lordship, i hate to interrupt you, but Lord Arput II and Lord Voltor-Kal requested your presence in three days in Second Kingdom's capital". Valnin's face then shaped into annoyed expression, he sighed "Very well, tell them i'll be there, my servant". The runner bowed, and was on his way again. The Lord shifted in his throne again as he wanted to continue to think, but he couldn't. Something was keeping him from it. He got up, straightening his long black hair and then he thought about that he could visit one of his companions. But who? That was the question...

Captain of the Royal Security, Jaal Ama Darav, was just preparing to get out of his armor and head to his quarters, when suddenly someone knocked on the door. "Stars, what is it now?" He said under his breath. He cleared his throat and said just loudly enough so the person behind the door could hear him "Come in". He then checked his desk if he didn't forget anything while he heard the door open "I sincerely hope this is important. I had a long day, and I want to-" He stopped in the mid of his talk when he looked at the person who just came in. It was Lord Valnin, kindly smiling, his red eyes barely recognizable in the dim lights. "Oh, my Lord, I apologize, I didn't know that it was you" Jaal said with concerned voice. The Lord continued to smile, then he calmly said "Don't be so worried, Jaal. I just wanted to check up on you, my dearest Captain". The Angaran man blushed slightly, making his pink-white cheeks a little bit blue even though it couldn't really be seen in the dark ambience of his large office. "So how was your day, Jaal?" The Lord asked. The Captain slightly hesitated to tell him his honest thoughts, but in the end, he knew that there was something between him and Valnin, at least he felt that way and also the fact that Angara are more open with their feelings than most races made him say it, starting with a sigh "I... had a difficult day, my Lord. The new recruits we've got from the Empire? It is very difficult to work with them. If I would call them uneducated roekaar, it would be an understatement". Valnin felt that Jaal was feeling frustrated, but he couldn't help himself but to ask "Excuse me, but... uneducated what?". Jaal looked at Valnin with his blue almost cat-like eyes "Roekaar. It means stubborn people in free translation". Valnin nodded his head in understanding. "Well, you know what they say, you cannot trust n'wahs, the outlanders" Valnin said. The Captain just slowly nodded in agreement "Indeed, m'lord". Then there was a moment of silence between them, as they couldn't find subject to talk about. The silence has been broken when Jaal asked his Lord "Lord Valnin... I know this might be an inappropriate question, but is there-" He stopped, as he started to hesitate again. He just couldn't straight ask his own Lord if he cares about him as his lover. Valnin raises a brow "Yes?". Jaal looked at him for a second, then nervously looked away as the words were stuck in his throat. The Lord slowly came to him, putting his bare blue hand on Jaal's wide shoulder and while he was looking into his eyes, he said "Jaal, if there is anything on your heart, just tell me. I know it is kind of difficult to talk like that in front of your own ruler, but in the end, we are all just living beings". His words sounded so powerful when he was so close, almost like it was some kind of curse. The Angaran's eyes met with Lord's, returning him the confidence he needed to say it. "I just feel like there is something between us, my Lord. You gave me a few hints in the past, but I didn't think much of it. And recently, you were giving me lots of those odd looks and hints, it almost felt you like me, but in a way of a lover". As Valnin was processing what Jaal said, he just smiled "Tell me then, do you feel something towards me, my loyal subject?". And again, the Captain didn't have a slightest idea of what to say. The eye contact was still going, though. Nervous glare meeting the calm one. Jaal's imagination was going wild of what could happen in next few moments if he would be completely honest with him, alas his Angaran nature wasn't making it easy for him, he couldn't hold it anymore. "My lord... you are the most interesting and also most odd being I have ever known" he said in nervous but still voice as Valnin was smiling at him with his one brow slightly up. "You are an inspiration for me. For your men. For your whole kingdom" He continued with less and less nervousness in his voice. "I also find your race very fascinating. The wonderful scent of your hair. Your smooth blue skin. Your intriguing eyes, they can be both intimidating and pleasant to look at. They are like glittering..." He stopped as he was thinking for few seconds. "...I believe humans call it rubies" He said with sincere smile which revealed his almost-white teeth. The Lord was pleasantly surprised by all those words, his face bright with expression of smile so large, that it almost looked like his mouth was going to rip. "Oh, dearest Jaal, you have no idea how much i am flattered right now. I have to admit, you are very good with words, Captain" Valnin said with that never-ceasing smile. Jaal blushed slightly again, and gave him a warm smile back "Not as good as you are when it comes to politics, your Lordship". They shared their smiles once again, but then Jaal kindly asked "So how is it really, my Lord? Do you feel the same towards me as i do towards you?". The Lord went for it, and kissed Jaal ever so softly on his right cheek which left the Angaran man just standing there wide-eyed. "There's your answer, my dearest Jaal" Valnin said quietly, but loudly enough so Jaal would hear him. The Captain could not find any words to react with. "Good night, Jaal" The Lord said, and before Jaal could wish him back, he was gone. "... Good night, taoshay" Jaal said to himself even though he wanted his Lord to hear it, but who knows, maybe he did, elves have very good ears after all.

[blissfulalchemist]

"steam rising from a bowl of soup" + dealer's choice!

Dealer’s choice said....

“I don’t care that it’s an inconvenience for you,” Stasia rolled her eyes, arm crossing over her chest, “You’re there to keep things under control.” Fifteen minutes, that’s how long she had spent talking to Jack, well arguing was probably the better term. She rubbed her temple listening to the flimsy excuses of her underling, calculating the time it would take to fly down there herself and fix the situation. “Jack I need you to fix this, that’s all I’m asking of you. If you think it’s an inconvenience for yourself imagine how much of one it’ll be for me if I have to go down there.”

His excuses continued as Stasia looked up at Carly, with her pale skin and blood red eyes, giving a small smile. Carly returned it making her way to the stove in the three bedroom house lifting the lid to inspect the contents inside. Stasia paced the kitchen lips tightening into a thin line, “Look I’m going to give you ten hours to fix this whole situation or to at least be in the process of doing so, got it?” She paused her eyes narrowing as she lowered her voice, “Jack if I have to go down there, you will regret it.” Stasia hung up the phone tossing it onto the table as Carly set the fresh bowl of soup in front of it. “You know I miss when you could slam a phone closed.”

“Or slam them against the cradle,” Carly laughed lightly, her smile widening showing off her elongated canines, “Can’t tell you how many of both I broke.” The two women laughed as they took a seat, Stasia leaning down to the bowl, steam brushing along her cheekbones. “Should I start making arrangements for the jet, Stasia?”

“Hm,” she waved her hand, “Not yet, no. They’re all incompetent but Jack is the least out of them all.”

“Which Jack is it?” Carly asked resting her chin on her hand, “Hit the Road Jack or Jack Hammer?”

“The one in New York,” Stasia smiled with a small eye roll, “You just love giving all of them code names?”

The pale woman shrugged leaning back in the chair, “Makes it easier to keep track of the region and we have like five different Jacks in leader positions.” Carly bit her lower lip focusing on the space behind Stasia, “New York is Jack DiCaprio, I don’t think that’s saying much.” Carly’s eyes focused back on Stasia as she brought the spoon to her mouth, “I can make some calls, have Hugo on the ready.”

Stasia gave a nod, a smile coming onto her face as she took the first bite, “My god Carly, you managing to keep your cooking prowess after all these years seems unnatural.” Carly smiled, head tilting down pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear, some human habits never left, her embarrassed mannerisms being the most prominent. “I am forever grateful that I get to be the one to reap that fact,” Stasia praised taking another bite, the phone vibrating once more. 

She rolled her eyes, “I’ll go and make the call,” Carly said softly making her way to the basement of the house.

Stasia answered, putting the phone on speaker, “This better be life or death Jaqueline,” Maybe we do have too many Jacks.

“Kind of,” the woman on the other end replied, “We lost hold of Bexley ma’am.”

Her spoon clattered into the bowl, “You WHAT!”

“We lost-.”

“I heard you the first time,” she growled, rubbing her forehead, “What I want to know is how you managed to lose hold of it?”

“Uh,” Jaqueline’s voice wavered, “Well there’s a new Strigoi, he was some MMA fighter or something, and well he’s wanting to have a region to call his own.”

“And that’s it?”

“Well he’s very charismatic,” the woman added quickly, “Some of the uh women and men helped him.”

“Some of our people helped him.”

“That’s correct ma’am.”

Stasia took a deep breath, “So what do you plan on doing to get Bexley back?”

“Uhm,” Stasia could hear the movement of the woman shifting, “Well I was hoping to get your input on that.”

Stasia stayed silent, the woman doing the same for the next ten seconds, “Well tell me your plan.” 

“Right, uh, yeah. My plan.”

“You don’t even have a plan,” she slammed her hand on the table, standing, “So what you just thought you could call me and I’d have one magically ready for you?” The woman on the phone stuttered, “That’s not how this works Jaqueline. I put you in charge so you could put out fires like this, so that I can focus on the bigger picture. I can’t keep coming over and doing your job for you otherwise what’s the point of having you around, hm.” 

“I-I- Well you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll- I’ll get. I’ll take care of this.”

Stasia crossed her arm, resting it in the crook of her elbow, “You better, because as your predecessor would tell you,” she lowered her voice, “there are no second chances.”

“But didn’t you uh,” the woman started to ask, swallowing hard, “You know uh that doesn’t matter. I’m gonna go and get right on remedying the situation.”

The woman hung up, Stasia gripping the phone, knuckles white, teeth grinding, “INGRATES!” 

Her free hand shot out slapping the ceramic bowl off the table, its destination the wall to her right. The pieces fell ringing in Stasia’s ears, her hands resting on the table, nails digging into the dark wood. Carly approached her quietly, hand reaching out to her shoulder, “How hard is it to keep an eye on territory, Carly? Tell me, because you seemed to handle it just fine all those years ago.”

“Well back in my day,” Carly’s voice taking on a crotchety lilt, “I made sure there was loyalty among my faction, all I needed was a good punch.” The corners of Stasia’s lips quirked briefly in a smile, “You know how these kids are, they think the way to win is through mind games only.”

Stasia let out a sigh, “It makes it irritating,” her eyes met Carly’s, “Did you get Hugo on standby?”

She nodded, “Just needs to know where we’re going.”

“I hope you’re craving British,” Carly groaned, “We lost Bexley.”

Carly’s mouth fell open, “How-. We lost Bexley.” Stasia gave a short nod, “That should have been the easiest to keep an eye on.”

“Well Jaqueline had some traitors in her midst.”

Carly rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up, “Of course it’s Jaque the Ripper.” She shook her head, “I’ll call him and let him know we’ll be leaving after your-.”

The sharp ring of the doorbell had both women looking to the front of the house, Stasia glancing at the clock on the wall. Still too early for her apprentices to be showing up for their lessons. Carly gave a nod, making her way back down to the basement, Stasia glancing through the peephole once she made it to the door. She cocked a brow seeing the multi-colored hair of her newest addition. “Tia,” she greeted, opening the door, smile easily coming to her face, “I didn’t expect you to come by until later.”

The young woman looked down, pushing some hair behind her ear, “I know, I’m sorry. I just-,” Tia inhaled deeply, “I need to talk  to you Stella.”

Stasia opened the door farther, “Of course, sweetie, come in.” Tia nodded, shoulders hunching over as she made her way over the threshold, “Can I get you anything to drink? Tea or water perhaps?”

Tia swallowed, shaking her head, Stasia catching a glimpse of the tears in the twenty year old’s eyes, “No thank you.”

Stasia put her arms around Tia’s shoulders, guiding her to the living room sofa, “Honey what happened?” The tears started to fall as the two women sat down on the sofa, “Oh Tia,” Stasia whispered, pulling her closer, smoothing her hair, “You can tell me anything.”

She nodded, sniffling, “I know. I know, but I-I have to drop out of my lessons with you.” She pulled away wiping at her face, “I have to go back home for a- Well I don’t know how long actually.”

Stasia’s brows knitted together, “What happened at home, sweetie?”

“My mom’s sick,” Tia whispered, eyes cast down, “I have to go and take care of her.” 

“Your mom’s sick,” Stasia repeated, as the young woman nodded, “Well that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” She smoothed the dyed hair, “Don’t worry about the lessons,” Tia’s eyes went wide, “You have enough skill to be able to practice on your own.”

“But I might not have the time to learn what you want to be teaching me. She might need around the clock care.”

“I was actually thinking that we change your curriculum,” Stasia grabbed her hands, giving her a sympathetic smile, “Magic is mostly about practice. So matter what kind of spell you do it will strengthen your power. I have some books downstairs that contain healing spells and rituals.”

“I-. Are you saying I could get rid of whatever is wrong with her?” Tia sat straighter, her lips quirked in a hopeful smile.

“Well,” Stasia looked down, letting out a slow breath, “no, not really. These are spells meant for minor illnesses and injuries.”

“Oh.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t use them to help your mom still,” Stasia brushed some of Tia’s hair back, “I assume it’s cancer?” 

Tia nodded, “Currently Stage three.”

“Well you can use these to help in providing comfort and relieving some of the pain that comes with it.”

“Maybe stop it from getting worse?”

Stasia smiled, “Possibly. I can’t guarantee that though.” She patted Tia’s knee, “Here let me grab them for you. You just stay right here.” She stood making her way to the basement, smile spreading across her face. 

Carly smirked watching as Stasia skimmed the library, “What’s got you all happy all of a sudden?”

“Tia’s mother is sick,” she glanced over her shoulder, “Stage three cancer.”

Carly blinked, her smile falling away, “Oh, that’s terrible,” Stasia nodded, mumbling to herself, “So why do you seem so happy about that?”

“A-ha,” Stasia pulled a black leather bound book, eyes scanning for another, “Well I told her that there wasn’t anything that could fully heal away her mother’s cancer.” She pulled a brown leather bound book along with a thinner journal, both with matching Nordic runes, “There is though.”

“So why not tell her that?”

“Because Carly,” she answered, setting the books down getting some supplies together for travel, “Tia could prove to be more useful than just a power source. I could make her a full time apprentice.” 

Carly nodded along slowly, “Be nice to have someone like you on the other side of the world.” Stasia beamed at Carly, “But she seems so….nice.”

“Not until she gets a little taste of the power she could have,” she held up a vial to the light, “and ailing parents are such great motivators to try something a little more unethical in her eyes at the current moment.”

Carly’s red eyes flicked to the black book, “There’s a spell in there that can do that.” Stasia hummed, “And what if she doesn’t take the bait?”

Stasia looked at her slowly, “Don’t tell me the Jacks have gotten to you, Carly.” The undead woman put her hands up, “She’s still of use just less than if she does the spell I want her to do.” She closed up the box, bringing it to the stairs, “Trust me though, a girl like her always takes the bait. She’s just going to be the first to live through it.” Carly looked her up and down, frowning with her brows knitted together until Stasia was out of the door. 

Tia stood hearing Stasia make her way back to the living room, “Here let me help you with that, Stella,” she rushed over grabbing the box from the bottom. “This is a lot of stuff. I don’t think I can accept all of this.”

Stasia waved a hand, “I insist. It’s just something to get you started anyway.”

Tears brimmed her eyes once more, “Thank you. Thank you so much,” Tia reached out with one arm, Stasia following in the embrace, “This means so much to me.”

“Oh of course honey,” she pulled away, hands on Tia’s shoulders, “Now you just call if you need anything in those spells that you can’t find at home okay? I can send some out to you no problem.” The young woman nodded enthusiastically, Stasia smoothing her hair once more, “Now you get going to your mother. She needs you right now.” 

Stasia leaned in the doorway watching as the mint green VW bus drove off in the midday sun, hearing the basement door start to creak open. She closed the door coming face to face with Carly, “What did you mean she would be the first to live through that spell?”

“The one that’s needed takes a lot from a witch, some girls didn’t have the power needed. Shame for a few of them actually.”

Carly crossed her arms, Stasia gliding past into the kitchen, “What makes you so sure though?”

Stasia paused, looking over her shoulder, “Because I know exactly what Tia is and the power that comes with someone like her.” She gave a chuckle, grabbing the broom, “Well if it's at the same level of a Moroi.”

[cinemavariety]

Cinema Variety’s Top Favorite Films of 2019

To quote Principal Duvall from the 2004 teen comedy classic Mean Girls: “I just wanted to say that you’re all winners, and that I couldn’t be happier the year is ending” 2019 was both a super difficult year personally, but even more so, I feel as if it was one of the weakest years for cinema in recent memory. Thankfully the last few months of the year have made up for it with a surplus of absolutely incredible cinematic experiences, many of which are reflected in this year’s rankings. I present to you my favorite films of 2019. Check out my rankings from previous years by checking out the links below:

Top Picks of 2018 List Top Picks of 2017 List Top Picks of 2016 List Top Picks of 2015 List Top Picks of 2014 List Top Picks of 2013 List

Honorable Mentions: Midsommar Uncut Gems Parasite 3 From Hell The Death and Life of John F. Donavan **THIS LIST IS IN ORDER AND CONTAINS SOME MILD SPOILERS**

#16 - Ready or Not Directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett

Ready or Not looked entertaining enough from the trailers, but it certainly wasn’t anything I was dying to go see. Especially in a movie theatre. However my brother convinced me to go with him and it ended up being one of the most consistently fun and entertaining theatrical experiences of 2019.

There were a lot of similar plot elements to the brilliant 2013 horror film - You’re Next (which by the way is one of my favorites). The plot is about a young girl, who grew up an orphan, marrying into an insanely wealthy family. The family has a tradition of playing a game on the wedding night, and she ends up choosing a game of hide and seek. Unbeknownst to the bride, the family is actually planning to hunt her down and murder her in order to perform some type of satanic ritual.     

Horror comedies only work for me about half the time, but his film has enough graphic violence and intense situations to counterbalance all of the humor throughout. They complemented each other well and the result was a super funny and super bloody cat and mouse hunt of social classes.

#15 - Doctor Sleep Directed by Mike Flanagan

Helming the sequel to The Shining is no easy undertaking whatsoever. Kubrick’s arthouse horror masterpiece will forever remain not only one of my favorite of his films, but also as one of my favorite genre pieces in general. I was immediately relieved when I discovered that Mike Flanagan signed on to direct the adaptation of Stephen King’s sequel - Doctor Sleep.

I already knew beforehand that Doctor Sleep was more of a fantasy story than a direct horror, and also wasn’t one of the most popular of King’s works. The film ended up being a pretty epic fantasy thriller. Flanagan excels in creating his own universe while also honoring the source material, as well as paying homage to Kubrick’s film. However, it shines more when it does its own thing instead of trying to be nostalgia porn.

Most of the film worked for me, some of it didn’t. The recasting of Jack Torrance’s character left a slightly sour taste in my mouth. Ewan McGregor does a great job as the recovering Danny but it is really Rebecca Ferguson who steals the show with her villain character Rose the Hat.

Doctor Sleep proves that Flanagan has become one of the most consistent horror directors working in the industry. There’s always a pulse to be discovered in the foundations of his storytelling.

#14 - High Life Directed by Claire Denis

Claire Denis, one of the most polarizing French auteurs, debuted her first English language film in 2019 with High Life. I had the pleasure of seeing the film on a big screen, and even though I felt a little underwhelmed as an initial reaction to the finale, the film seemed to linger in my subconscious like a haunting unresolved dream. It held up even better on a re-watch, which you can view for free if you have Amazon Prime.

It’s definitely unlike any space film that I have ever seen. The premise surrounds a group of prisoners on death row who are sent to the farthest depths of space on a doomed voyage. All of the occupants are corralled by Juliette Binoche’s character, who plays some type of mad space scientist, is obsessed with collecting their semen in order to create new life in the abyss of the cosmos.

High Life is a slow burn, often minimalist film, which relies more heavily on atmosphere/score/visuals than it does on dialogue or forced plot elements. It’s bewilderingly nihilistic in how it depicts human behavior gone horribly awry. Robert Pattinson gives an understated performance and seems to provide the only glimmer of what seems to be hope by the end of the film.

#13 - Too Old to Die Young Directed by Nicolas Winding Refn

Too Old To Die Young finds the celebrated auteur, Nicolas Winding Refn, sharing his view of humanity and society at its most despicable. Hate seems to seep out of the cracks of every neon-soaked frame in the limited series. Amazon gave Refn free reigns in creating his phantasmagoria.

All of his usual motifs and creative decisions are employed in full force with Too Old To Die Young, sometimes to an almost unbearable degree unless you are a truth Refn aficionado. His long takes, infinitesimal silences between lines, neon lighting, synth score and characters belonging to a criminal underworld are all utilized to great affect within the series.

I won’t lie, I found it to be some of Refn’s most challenging work to date. There are so many aspects to be found within this series that went over my head, it is art that demands a re-watch. And while I believe that Refn’s sensibilities are best conveyed through a film medium, the limited series allows Refn to explore what he wants to convey like an artist adding layer upon layer of colors onto a blank palette.

#12 - Age Out Directed by A.J. Edwards

A.J. Edwards returned in 2019 with his sophomore directorial effort - Age Out (originally titled Friday’s Child). Edwards has served as one of many creatives who worked on the editing team of Terrence Malick’s films in the last decade. Malick’s influence on the director is quite noticeable. Edwards directed his first film in 2014, The Better Angels, which was a decent debut. Whereas The Better Angels oftentimes felt too close of a mimicry of Malick’s style, Age Out utilizes certain aspects of the style while also allowing Edwards to have his own authorial voice.

The film centers around a young man named Richie as he is about to “age out” of the foster care facility in which he was raised - a frightening reality for countless youth in America and around the world. Richie is left to navigate the difficulties of the adult world at a mere eighteen years old, without any family or parental figures to help him along the way. He makes friends with a seedy townie who revels in delinquency and causing ruckus. Also, there is a romantic subplot between Richie and a girl named Joan, portrayed tenderly by Imogen Poots. This relationship seems to be the only saving grace in Richie’s life. However, a turn of events soon reveal that Richie’s traumatic past has gotten the better of him and threatens to doom his entire future.

Edwards shoots the film in a boxed style with a 1.33 : 1 aspect ratio. This aids with the sense of claustrophobia and paranoia that invades Richie’s life. As aforementioned, many of Malick’s motifs are used here: a floating steadicam guiding the audience along, hushed dialogue, montages with classical music, and even some voice overs. However, this aesthetic isn’t heavy handed in any way. In fact, it’s a joy to see directors whose work can almost go into the Malick canon as the auteur has had such an influence on a lot of young, upcoming directors. Age Out is both a coming of age story and a cry of warning for unhealed trauma.

#11 - An Elephant Sitting Still Directed by Hu Bo

An Elephant Sitting Still now holds the spot as the longest running film that I have ever seen. It sits in at just under four hours, and it completely delivers without ever feeling like it drags on unnecessarily. The film technically premiered in 2018 and is considered a 2018 film among critic circles. However, the epic didn’t get a widespread distribution in the U.S. until this year, so I am overlooking this discrepancy. The film was marked with somewhat of a controversy after the director Hu Bo took his own life right after post production was completed. Hu Bo is an author turned director and An Elephant Sitting Still marks his first foray into cinema. It’s one of the best directorial debuts I have ever seen.

The film centers around four different characters during the span of a single day. All of these characters are marked with some sort of tragedy, and many of their stories intertwine in a synchronistic fashion. It reminded me of other masterpieces such an Inarittu’s Amores Perros or Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia. The film takes place in the industrial regions of Northern China, and the barren landscapes reflect an inner emptiness that emanates from all the characters.

There is a hollowness to these people as they navigate through life. An Elephant Sitting Still is nothing short of nihilistic. It’s an angry, desperate and hauntingly beautiful cry of pain from a director who was most certainly haunted by his own inner demons. It manages to be both an odyssey of human cruelty and a swan song from a young man who didn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel.

#10 - Joker Directed by Todd Phillips

“It’s getting crazier out there, isn’t it?” These are some of the first lines to be uttered in Todd Philip’s pitch-black satire on society. These lines are what best exemplify the themes that Philip’s was pushing: our society is profoundly sick, everything seems to be getting worse, we have no saviors in sight and hope isn’t always on the horizon. Just from these first utterances, it is clear that Philips is taking all of the political and socioeconomic turmoil of the last four years and has created a problem child that is Joker.

Joaquin Phoenix turns in one of his most disturbed and flawless performances yet - which is no surprise. However, I have yet to see him embody a character so genuinely as he did in The Master. But this isn’t Paul Thomas Anderson, this is Todd Phillips. And the fact that the comedy director even created this piece of art is something that still has me scratching my head. Subtlety is never at play in the film, and there are quite a few plot points that are a little too on-the-nose, even for me. However, all of the other elements redeem it and make this one of the best films of the year. The cinematography is pleasing for the eyes, and the menacing cello scores echoes an existential loneliness that I felt permeate my very being.

The last thirty minutes are exactly what I was hoping from this film. It’s a breath of fresh air to see Hollywood actually stick to creating a nihilistic film that doesn’t once try to water itself down.

#9 - Luce Directed by Julius Onah

Director Julius Onah decided to really step up his game with his latest film Luce. After the dumpster fire that was The Cloverfield Paradox (seriously, thanks for completely ruining what was becoming a dope anthology franchise), Onah has proven that he can be a master of his craft with the proper source material. In regards to the story being told, every element of the film works to its advantage: editing, performances, direction, and most importantly - the screenplay. It’s one of most well written screenplays I have come across in 2019. I immediately could tell from the dialogue that this movie must have been adapted from a stage play, and sure enough upon searching, I found out it was. Not all stage adaptations work, in fact I’d say more than half don’t end up being too effective, but this one stuck its landing and then more.

The story revolves around an overly concerned teacher who contacts Luce’s parents after he writes a paper that comes off as threatening. The paper in question seemed to hold a sentiment in which violence was called for in order to overcome colonialism. It’s important to note that Luce was a child soldier in his native country before being adopted by his parents - played by Naomi Watts and Tim Roth who both gave stunning performances. The rest of the story is an investigation into who their son actually is, which eventually results in moral debates regarding race and identity.

Luce is also a film that effectively helps the audience empathize with the main character, while at the same time questioning whether his intentions are genuine, or a coy to hide something much darker. The truth isn’t always black and white, and this was my biggest takeaway from the movie.

#8 - Monos Directed by Alejandro Landes

Monos felt like a hybrid of elements inspired from great works such as Lord of the Flies, Aguirre: The Wrath of God and Apocalypse Now. This is only the third film to be directed by Alejandro Landes, however it looks and feels as if it was created by a seasoned veteran of the industry.

A group of children guerilla soldiers hold base on a mountaintop where they keep a hostage, watch over a prized cow, and act as a defensive force against an unbeknownst group of enemies. There is little to no exposition in the film. Landes drops the audience off right in the middle of the chaos.

We aren’t exactly sure what these children are risking their lives to fight for, or why they are doing it, but it goes to show the conditions in which they were raised for them to find normalcy in the violent lifestyle of a guerilla soldier. The landscapes are absolutely gorgeous, and there are even a few scenes where I questioned how they accomplished such shots/stunts with a low budget.

#7 - The Beach Bum Directed by Harmony Korine

The Beach Bum might not be the best film that Harmony Korine has directed (it’s certainly no Spring Breakers), but it is easily the most fun. It’s been almost seven long years since Korine’s last project, and I had been waiting in eager anticipation to see what he would do next. He was originally going to do a gangster crime drama called The Trap, which is what I was really hoping from Korine, but that fell through and he ended up making one of the best stoner comedies I have ever had the pleasure of watching.

The Beach Bum is probably Korine’s most accessible and audience-friendly film he’s ever done. I say that lightly though, because it still remains just as highly divisive as his other work. The plot is loose. It follows the misadventures and antics of Moondog, a washed up poet and complete burnout. He is soon sent to rehab for all of his illegal activities, in which he breaks out with the help of Zac Efron’s character, who might have just been my favorite character of the film. Korine seems to have a consistently solid knack to create dirty, seedy and absolutely enthralling characters.

I am really happy that he decided to keep a very similar visual aesthetic to his previous masterpiece, Spring Breakers. Benoit Debie, who is the king of neon lighting and discombobulating camerawork, does a masterful job at creating the textured and visual world of The Beach Bum. Hell, it’s probably one of the main reasons why I decided to see it twice on the big screen.

I’m not the biggest fan of comedies, mostly because I have a very bizarre sense of humor and find most of them to be completely hollow. But Korine’s darkly nihilistic sense of humor suits my sensibilities perfectly and I found myself laughing out loud at various points throughout The Beach Bum. It’s a fun, and even slightly endearing film at certain points thanks to the presence of Isla Fisher’s character as the wife. I look forward to whatever Korine decides to do next. At this point, who knows where he will decide to go with his career. I just hope I don’t have to wait another five plus years to see more of his work.

#6 - A Hidden Life Directed by Terrence Malick

Malick isn’t “back” - he never left. A Hidden Life isn’t a “return to form”. His form has always been there, it’s been evolving since The Tree of Life. In fact, the structure and flow of this film is extremely reminiscent of his past three films.

How far are you willing to walk the path of righteousness, even when the path is marred with pain and unanswered sufferings? How long are you able to cling to your faith when it feels like all hope is lost? How do you fight for what is good, when everyone around you is telling you to submit to forces of absolute evil? These are some of just many questions explored in Terrence Malick’s newest tour de force. As with many of Malick’s recent work, these aren’t questions that are necessarily outright answered during the film. They are instead questions of morality meant to be repeated throughout the story, almost like a mantra or an ode to pure faith.

A Hidden Life is Malick’s first return to chronological and narrative-driven filmmaking since The New World. It has garnered praise almost universally among critics, and is regarded as his best film in ten years since The Tree of Life. While I am in the few who don’t exactly agree that this is Malick’s best film in a decade, I might even dare say that it is among my least favorites of Malick’s recent output, I am still not denying the sublime mastery instilled in every single shot of this film.

A Hidden Life tells the noble true story of Franz Jagerstatter, an Austrian conscientious objector, who refuses to fight for the Nazis in World War II due to his religious beliefs and is eventually executed for it. He is decades later deemed a martyr by the Church - all the more telling as to why Malick decided to tackle this story. The heart of this story is told through letters that Franz and his wife Fani exchange throughout his period spent as a political prisoner. Fani seems to be one of the only people in Franz’s life who sticks by his side. No matter how soul crushing Franz’s decision is for Fani, she understands him well enough to know that death is a better option than spoiling your soul and humanity. “Better to suffer injustices than to do it,” as one character painfully states in the film. And while I wasn’t as emotionally wrecked as I thought I would be by this film, I instead feel inspired by Franz’s commitment to his innate goodness. The back and forth perspectives of Franz and Fani are well executed -  we as an audience get reprieves from the dreary confines of a prison cell to the majestic grandeur of the Austrian mountainside. The mountains and surrounding nature are characters within themselves. Near the finale, as Franz is face to face with his mortality, his mind wanders back to riding his motorcycle through the village on a sunny day as the mountains loom in the background. These are the final desires of a doomed man, something as simple as having the freedom to go outside and feel the grass beneath his feet - to experience the wonders of nature that most people don’t think twice about.

As mentioned earlier, it is far from my favorite of Malick’s oeuvre, and is not without its slight misgivings. It was stated that this was Malick’s return to “narratively focused” filmmaking. But he still utilized his signature elliptical style, and for me these moods oftentimes clashed and kept me at a distance emotionally. I rarely say this with a Malick film, but more of a reliance on dialogue would have worked wonders for me. There are quite a few sequences in which Malick opted for montage instead of a more fleshed out scene, which I believe would have further added to the power of the story.

These are all slight issues, and I myself might be a harsher critic than most simply because I hold Malick to such a high standard. Once you can give yourself to the film, A Hidden Life becomes a true zen experience. It managed to instill a sense of serene presence within myself. I felt very grateful for the most basic and common details of my life and this world. Malick’s work can be such a sensorial rush, and making even mundane objects and rooms look absolutely gorgeous, that it’s as if “everything is shining” in my own life after seeing the film. I look forward to returning to The Church of Malick very soon.

#5 - Ad Astra Directed by James Gray

Ad Astra got a lot of unwarranted hate this year in my opinion. It truly is a shame because I believe that James Gray has struck gold once again. While I don’t adore it to the same degree as I did Gray’s previous feature, The Lost City of Z, Ad Astra succeeds in being one of the most understated space films made in the 21st century.

It’s not exactly a wholly original story, or a plot that is something that we haven’t seen before. It’s the way Gray goes about telling this story and exploring these themes that makes it so very special. It’s not forcing any overreaching philosophical or ethical message onto the viewer, it’s not overly complicated or overly long, and rather than trying to present completely senseless physical explanations to the audience, it just accepts the fiction aspect as “science fiction”.

Hoyte Van Hoytema is a brilliant Director of Photography and he crafts some of the most breathtaking space shots in recent memory. He really captures the breathtaking enormity of the cosmis abyss. The scenes that take place near Nepture during the finale are jaw dropping. We see two characters wrestling each other while suspended midair and the camera pulls out to reveal their absolutely terrifying ordeal while splashes of Neptune’s purple color emanates behind them. What I enjoyed most about the film is this sort of serene, zen atmosphere that Gray creates through the visuals, the score and Brad Pitt’s heartfelt but quietly somber voiceover.

Pitt portrays a lonely, broken and existentially conflicted astronaut. He finds the quiet infinitude of space to be a reprieve from the chaos of conflict happening down on Earth. He feels more at home among the stars than he does on the planet in which he was born. His perspective reminds me of the blue God from Watchmen, Doctor Manhattan, when he’s dwelling peacefully on Mars and laments his feelings toward Earth and all the people on it: “I am tired of Earth. These People. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.”

James Gray’s Ad Astra, much like his previous two films before this, detail the pains and tribulations of undaunted pioneers as they explore foreign territories. The final monologue of Pitt’s washed over me like a gentle breeze: “I will rely on those closest to me, and I will share their burders, as they share mine. I will live and love.”

#4 - Anima Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson

Interprative dance, experimental film, and visual albums are three of my absolutely favorite art forms. The real MVP of modern cinema, Paul Thomas Anderson, has collaborated with one of the real MVP’s of modern music, Thom Yorke, to create a fifteen minute long music video on the power of human connection.

Thom Yorke plays a sleepy commuter, a passive bystander, a human sheep, a functioning cog in some great machinery. He makes brief eye contact with a pretty woman on the train, and notices that she leaves behind a briefcase. The rest of the short details his efforts as he dodges through obstacle after obstacle trying to find the woman and return the briefcase to her. I couldn’t believe my eyes as Anderson concocts the innermost desires of being seen, understood, and loved. The results are strokes of flashing light projections on concrete walls, bodies undulating as they separate and conjoin simultaneously, giddy humans running through fog, and lovers meeting in the union of hearts.

The final section, Dawn Chorus, is one of the most gentle and blissful experiences I have ever witnessed, let alone one in a film distributed by Netflix. Paul Thomas Anderson and Thom Yorke’s project had me understanding why I fell in love with this medium in the first place.

#3 - 1917 Directed by Sam Mendes

1917 takes the spot as my favorite war film of the decade. Personally, I found it to be one of the best war films ever made in general. What director Sam Mendes and DOP Roger Deakins have created is nothing short of a miracle. It’s the first “single take” war film to ever be made, mainly because this is a feat that is far from easy to pull off. Mendes and Deakins shot the movie in extreme long takes, and spliced them all together to make the whole movie come off as a seamless single take. These tracking shots never leave the side of the characters, we are in their footsteps on the journey the entire time.

1917 has a pretty simple premise: two young British soldiers are given a near impossible mission to cross enemy territory and deliver a message that will stop a deadly attack on over 1,500 soldiers - one of them being the brother of one of the two soldiers sent on the mission. The familial aspect contributes added emotional gravitas to the plot overall.

1917 is more of an experiential war film than it is a action or battle focused war film. It’s best to be seen in an IMAX because the sound design and the invasive tracking shots make you feel as if you are walking along these two soldiers as they face grave perils on their quest to deliver the message. I very much so enjoyed that they kept the plot small and intimate, without resorting to constant firepower to keep the audience engaged. That isn’t too say that the movie doesn’t have more than enough of its fair share of nail biting action sequences, and also plenty of gruesome shots depicting the carnage that World War I brought. These soldiers have to army crawl over rotting corpses, while rats and crows are seen pecking and chewing through the remains. The filmmaker doesn’t turn a blind eye to the horrors that war produced. To me, this is one of many reasons why I believe 1917 is superior to other popular recent war films such as Dunkirk. I don’t want my war films to be sanitized. War needs to be portrayed as it truly is - acts of complete inhumanity.

Dare I say that 1917 is Come and See for the 21st century. While Come and See is most definitely the superior film, there were echoes of the classic Soviet Union masterpiece that ring throughout 1917. Maybe it’s the expertly crafted tracking shots, maybe it’s the maddening use of sound design/editing, or maybe it’s the shell shocked expression that is engraved on one of the main characters faces near the finale.

1917 does an amazing job of being very loud, but also utilizing silence in certain scenes to great affect. The juxtaposition is most expertly crafted during one scene that involved flares popping off in the sky, lighting up the ruins of a city, as one the characters runs away from enemy fire. It’s an absolutely exhilarating scene. I ended up bawling by the end of the movie, mostly just because of all the pent up anxiety and distress I felt throughout. You don’t see many films that take place during World War I anymore. But 1917 shows it is not a time period to be forgotten about.

#2 - The Lighthouse Directed by Robert Eggers

I had been eagerly anticipating Robert Eggers’s follow-up film after he released The VVitch back in 2016. At first it was reported that he was going to be doing an adaptation of Nosferatu, which I still think would be a great story for Egger’s to adapt, especially after witnessing what he instead decided to make - The Lighthouse.

Shot gorgeously in black & white on gritty 16mm celluloid, the film looks like it comes from a completely different era (the dialogue as well). There were many shots that had a similar look to some of Bergman’s early work on the Faroe islands.

The Lighthouse has a fairly simple plot. Robert Pattinson plays Winslow who goes to work for a seasoned lighthouse keeper named Thomas who is played by Willem Dafoe. Winslow is new to being a wickie and Thomas takes him under his wing to show him the ropes. Thomas orders him about incessantly in a brute and abusive manner.

There is a minimalism to the plot, however all of the other elements are done so perfectly that the daily grueling routines of these wickies becomes nothing short of hypnotizing. The sound design and score ratchets up the harsh conditions of the island. Wind sounds like its constantly shrieking outside - a reminder of the unease that seems to be building to an overflow. The dialogue, diction, and accents are all completely authentic to the time period and setting that the story is taking place in. Eggers commitment is second to none when it come to detail and authenticity with aspects such as the character’s accents and inflections. A real case of cabin fever befalls the two men who both seem to become obsessed with the mystical light that emanates at the top of the light house.

While I really enjoyed The VVItch, I absolutely adored The Lighthouse and find it to be a much stronger work from Eggers. I think what I vibed with most about it is that the movie doesn’t feel the need to be confined to one particular genre. Whereas The VVitch was literally about a witch bringing misery to a Puritan family, it was constricted to be somewhat of a horror film. However, The Lighthouse manages to be many different tones: a fever dream surrealist film, an arthouse horror, a slapstick comedy, and a nautical retelling of many ancient sea myths. And all of these different tones worked together and bounced off each other in perfect harmony.

I found myself both laughing and completely repulsed by the images I was seeing - especially within the last act of the film which succeeded in shaking me up and making me feel both bewildered and slightly nauseated. It ends up being a gritty, dirty, and uncompromising journey into total psychosis. By the conclusion of the film, the audience comes to the same realization as the two characters - there really was enchantment in the light after all.

#1 - Waves Directed by Trey Edward Shults

Waves is an operatic cry for people to be better to one another. It is by far my favorite film of the year, and I truly believe it to be one of the finest films ever made. It earned itself a well deserved spot in my Top 25 Favorite Films of the Decade.

Trey Edward Shults started out his cinematic career on a strong note with Krisha. He delivered once again with his sophomore debut - It Comes at Night (even if I do find it to be easily the weakest of out the three he has directed). But for me, Waves is where Shults really experiments with his style to such a fine tuned degree that we find the director not calming down his vision or becoming more “grounded”, instead he expands upon his prowess with one of the most powerful family dramas I’ve ever seen.

Shults is another director who made my list this year who is somewhat of a protege of Terrence Malick. Shults worked as an intern for Malick on both The Tree of Life and Voyage of Time. It is quite clear the influence that Malick has on Shult’s vision. But Shults, even more-so than Edwards who also made my list this year, has taken Malick’s inspiration and created something wholly his own.

Shults has created an experiential rollercoaster of actions, consequences and the toxic fallout than can come from such actions. Waves is essentially two films in one. The first half is the energetic, chaotic and traumatic first half in its depiction of toxic masculinity taken too far, to the eventual accident that changes all of the characters lives. The camera is constantly floating in this portion, or shall I even say flying through the air and around the characters. The camera has no limits in what it can do and that along with the editing, and most noticeably the insanely perfect soundtrack/score, this portion ends up feeling like one prolonged anxiety attack.

The second half of the film switches character POVs masterfully. There’s a psychedelic shift of perspective from the brother’s eyes covered in flashing lights from the back of a police car to his little sister’s eyes in the back of their parent’s car (you have to have seen the film to completely understand what I am referring to of course). This second half of the film is where the camera slows down a little. This portion is more character focused and less interested in being flashy through its aesthetic. We get more dialogue, more character details, and a lot more tears in this half. It’s like a long cathartic release after experiencing an hour of trauma and abuse. It succeeds in tearing you apart, to only slowly piece you back together.

As mentioned previously, Shults’s soundtrack decisions were the cherry on top for me. Tame Impala, Animal Collective & Tyler the Creator are three of my favorite artists and their music is utilized perfectly within the story. What made this film so special to me, other than the fact it all takes place in the state in which I grew up in, was that no other film has better reminded me of my own humanity in years. This film makes me want to be a better brother, a better friend, a better son, and a better person in general. You never know when a single moment can shatter your entire world. In the end, it left me with a strong message that struck me to my core: appreciate what you have in life, and tread carefully.

[rebelsarestrongashell]

A Complicated Profession - Part 3

A/N: Hey, hey everyone! So the next update will be the last chapter of this mini-series. No worries though cause I'm outlining the sequel that will tie in directly with the show! I hope you really like this chapter. Let me know what you think! 

In other news: I'm writing a novel!! My protagonist is a female secret service agent and I’m really excited! I've set up a Patreon for those interested in supporting, getting updates, and even reading a few chapters. Your support would mean the world to me as I spend a much large amount of my time writing my novel and updating my fanfics. Here is the link: Patreon.com/tonyaespy

“You know the locations to all the imperial hideouts in the Unknown Regions?” The Mandalorian asked with an edge.

You raised your chin with a sense of pride; you sacrificed a lot to obtain that information, “Yes.” You replied, never breaking your eye contact with the helmet in front of you.

“I’m confused, why didn’t you hand this information over to the Republic?”

“Because the war was over, the Empire was defeated, and the Emperor was dead,” You paused to look down, you felt a sudden wave of insecurity fall over you, “and I was tired, tired of everything. I no longer wanted to be a piece in either side’s game.”

You let your hands drop from the wound on his arm and began cleaning up the medkit, refusing to look up even though you could still feel his gaze on you.

Without another word, you got up and headed back to the cockpit. Mando reentered a minute later and sat back down in the pilot seat before turning the chair towards you.

You could sense another question on the tip of his tongue and intervened before it could escape, “So what’s the plan, Mandalorian?”

“The ship needs fuel and some repairs. We’ll head to the outer rim.”

“And load up on food?” You asked, hopefully. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until that moment.

“And load up on food.” He confirmed with a sigh

You’ve learned enough about the Mandalorian in your short time with him to know he vastly enjoys silence. You remained silent throughout the flight until his screen clued you into where you were headed, “Dantooine?” You questioned, “If you’re taking me to the Republic, I will kill you right here, right now.”

He didn’t bother to look back at you, “Don’t make me bind your hands again.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

That made him turn his head back towards you. “Dantooine as enough Rebel presence to keep any Empire sympathizers away, but the Republic doesn’t bother much with Dantooine. We’ll be safe here for now, but shouldn’t stay too long.”

With that, he pulled out of light speed, Dantooine looming in front of you. He landed the ship in a small port, an older man and woman started to approach with a few droids following behind them, “You trust these people to fix up your ship?”

“They’ve done a good job before. Let’s go.” He headed out of the cockpit without giving you a glance. You quickly followed behind him, making sure to grab your staff.

The man and woman were at the bottom of the ramp waiting as the two of you walked down. It was clear they knew what to expect from the mysterious Mandalore, “No, droids?” The man asked.

“No droids,” The Mandalorian confirmed, tossing the man a couple credits and walking past him, “We’ll be at the cantina.”

The woman was looking you up and down suspiciously like she was trying to remember you from somewhere. It made you feel uneasy, so you quickly nodded at the both of them and jogged up to the Mandalorian, so you were walking side by side, “You sure we are safe here?”

“Yes, but if you keep that anxious expression on your face, someone is going to think we are up to something.”

It was a quick walk to the open-air cantina. The cantina wasn’t packed but busy enough for you to enter without being noticed. You dropped yourself down at the nearest table and let your head fall onto the wooden surface, mentally and physically exhausted from the past week. You could feel the Mandalorian sit down beside you. The warm breeze washing over you felt unbelievably lovely compared to the cold of space travel. There were a few minutes of silence, and you felt yourself falling asleep before a cheerful, motherly voice brought you out of it, “Looks like you’ve had a rough go, hun.”

You kept your head on the table but could see the figure of the woman in front of you. Not in the mood to talk, you lifted a hand, “Corellian rum, please.”

The Mandalorian’s sigh made the woman’s attention turn to him, “And for you?” She asked.

“Nothing, but also bring her some food, please. It doesn’t matter what.”

The woman nodded and walked away. You finally raised your head and turned towards your companion, or was he your captor? You weren’t precisely which anymore, “Don’t get annoyed, but how do you eat? You got some sort of straw in that thing?” You flashed him your best smile.

Surprisingly, his voice didn’t sound frustrated or annoyed, “I take my helmet off,” Your face lit up with excitement, “Just not in front of people.”

You instantly shrunk in disappointment, and the Mandalorian laughed a genuine laugh. Even through the helmet, it was warm and inviting. It made you inevitably smile. The woman came back sooner than expected. Now able to get a good look at her, she looked to be middle-aged and rather pretty. She placed your rum in front of you as well as some soup and bread. She gave you a quick look over smiled, “Well isn’t that a gorgeous face, happy to see your spirit has lifted,” She turned to the Mandalorian as you started to devour your soup, “Aren’t you a lucky one.”

You nearly choked on your soup as she walked away and then snickered to yourself, “Yeah, aren’t you a lucky one?” You teasingly asked him with raised eyebrows.

“Hurry up and eat.” This time his voice was filled with annoyance.

Nearly an hour later, your belly was full and warm from the soup and bread. The Mandalorian had done nothing for the past fifteen minutes but stare at you, aggravated that you disregarded his ‘hurry up’ command. He placed some credits down on the table and got up without a word, as usual, you followed.

The two of you walked through the market, looking at food to bring on the ship. “You got a kitchen on that hunk of junk?” You asked.

“An extremely tiny one, why?”

You help out your hand, silently asking for credits. The Mandalorian tilted his head in confusion, making you roll your eyes, “I’m a pretty good cook, I know what to get.”

After contemplating it for a moment, he placed a small number of credits in your hand, and you went off to various booths beaming. While on your small farm, it was your favorite thing to do; to go visit the market in the small village and picking out the best produce. Your life in the war rarely allowed fresh or well-made food.

By the time you and the Mandalorian made it back to the ship, you were nearly skipping. It had been so long since you felt a real sense of happiness, even if it was just a crumb. For a second, you forgot a bounty was placed on your head until the older woman came scurrying up to the two of you.

“Everything okay with the ship?” Asked Mando, fearing the worst.

She waved him off, though, “Oh everything is fine with the ship, just minor repairs, and refueling,” She quickly turned to you, “But you, I thought I recognized you. I use to work on the same Rebel base as you. The Republic sent out a transmission to all former rebels a few days ago, they are looking for you.”

“A bounty?” The Mandalorian quickly cut in with tension in his voice. You started to feel the panic rise in you as well.

“No, but they sounded urgent.”

You abruptly grabbed her by the arm, “Please don’t let them know I’m here. I can’t get sucked back in. Please.”

She studied your face for a beat, understanding seeming to sink in, “I get it, why do you think I’m here” gesturing to the port surrounding them, “You two need rest. Stay here tonight, on your ship. The city is full of former Rebel fighters, if you venture out anymore, someone might recognize you if they haven’t already. Leave first thing in the morning. I promise I won’t say a word.”

You looked at the Mandalorian, and he was looking right back at you. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you were getting better at reading his body language. You turned back to the woman, “We will. Thank you.”

The two of you retreated on to the ship for the evening. He showed you down the ladder to where the tiny kitchenette was. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. You unloaded the food and made your way back up to the cockpit where the Mandalorian had returned.

You found him looking through different holograms of various planets, “Where are we headed to next?”

“Where do you want to go?”

The question made you halt in your steps, “Where do I want to go?”

He turned his chair around to face you. “What is it that you want? Where do you want to go? A secluded planet, I would imagine. You can set up your new life.”

You absent-mindedly sat down. You had figured that the rest of your life would be running planet to planet now, possibly with the Mandalorian. Still, you had assumed he would dump you on some random planet at some point. Instead, he was helping you with another chance at a peaceful life. You realized you probably looked like an idiot, sitting there with your mouth open. You looked down and shook your head, “I mean, I would love to have a little farm again.”

He silently nodded for a moment before turning back around, “Let’s see what our options are.”

He silently scrolled through planets as you looked at him, wondering who the man under the helmet was. What he looked like, does he have a family, what his name was? Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “What’s your name?” He dropped his hand, and you squeezed your eyes, hoping you didn’t piss him off, “Sorry, I’ve never actually met a Mandalore, I can’t help but be curious.”

The felt rigid for a minute before he sat back, “I’m not from Mandalore. I was a foundling,” He looked back at you, “My name is Din Djarin.”

You tilted your head with a small smile, “Din Djarin, I like it.”

He turned back around, “I think I’ve found a planet that might work. Takodana.” A beautiful blue with speckled green planet appeared on the screen. “Seems to be void of most galactic politics, near trade routes, and plenty of green land for farming. Plus, it’s not in the outer rim, which will be the first place people will go to look for you.”

Takodana. You heard the name in passing before, from the looks of it, it’s a dream come true. You weren’t ready to let your guard down yet, but you couldn’t help but let your mind drift towards thoughts of a lakeside farm, “Okay. We head there tomorrow,” You looked at the window to see the sun just beginning to set, “I’ll go make us some food. I will eat below so you can be alone up here.”

Din simply gave you a nod. You stood up and went to make your exit, but before you made it to the door, you turned back around, “What would happen? If you took the helmet off in front of someone?”

“I wouldn’t be allowed to put it back on.”

“Sounds pretty peaceful to me.” You said softly.

He turned to look back at you, but you were already out the door, leaving him with his thoughts.

Tag List: @marvelous-capsicle @amberthefiredemon @sargesbestgirl  @zoogrl05  @poisonivy123  @maryan028  @thefandomzoneisdangerous  @loveharrington @reblogin-manic @llama259 @700teacups @jinthusiastsss @yelenas-lova @imspillingcoffee @songofcosplay @bella-0104-123 @astrospian @freudlovescocaine @jupiterbarnes @hobiiwan @bandofmarvels​ @midnightwritingrussiancoffee @chaotic-taetae @ceattlu @skyguy-peach

[manage-mischief]

Ground Zero

Part Two: Freedoms 

Read on AO3 here. 

Summary: Two-shot. Though Tonks had been fantasizing about moments like this for months—moments when the two of them were in bed together—none of them had involved quite this much blood or mortal peril. In which Remus is injured during a mission and Tonks has to think fast to save his life.

Author’s Note: This will be a two-shot and perhaps part of a larger Remadora series. They are definitely one of my OTPs, and I feel like a lot of their relationship was glossed over in the books. This story attempts to place a timeline on some of their romance. It takes places soon after Order of the Phoenix, before the Half-Blood Prince. I envision it happening right before Harry arrives at the Weasley’s and sees Tonks and Molly there. I’m pretty new to fanfiction writing, so any kind comments would be appreciated! (I had to re-upload chapter 2 because of a link issue and because idk how Tumblr works lol sorry about that)

Chapter 2 : Remus recovers from the attack while Tonks tries (and fails) to stay casual. There's only one bed, after all. Past Wolfstar if you squint. 

One minute. That’s how long she allowed herself to lose control. Sitting there, shivering on the cool bathroom tile, she felt like a complete idiot. Since it had been well-established that the universe hated her, it made perfect sense that she had to have gone and fallen in love with a man who she was quite certain would never love her back. At least, not in the way she hoped. She had managed to earn in his friendship, but was sure that, in his eyes, she was still the same immature girl he had believed her to be all those months ago: too young, too frivolous, too clumsy. And, he was probably right. He had been a bloody professor for Merlin’s sake! Meanwhile, she was the girl who would pretend to be professors to pull pranks and end up in detention with a Howler from home the next day.

Not to mention the issue of Sirius. She had never known exactly what had gone on between Remus and her cousin in the past. But, after Remus’s reaction to Sirius’s death, she was fairly certain their relationship had not been strictly platonic. These thoughts of Sirius caused her to shake even more. A few stray tears slid down her cheeks. It was her fault he was dead.

She relived the fight at the Department of Mysteries every day. Her biggest failure. What could she have done differently? What curses or hexes had she forgotten? If she had been a better dueler, a better Auror, would Sirius still be alive today? Surely, Remus had asked himself similar questions. So, Tonks resigned herself to the sad truth: even if Remus felt anything towards her, he would never want to be with the witch whose incompetence had led to the death of one of the only people on Earth he had ever loved.

Her minute was up. Tonks pushed herself off of the floor. She leaned over the sink and stared in the mirror. Her hair, which often involuntarily changed color to reflect her mood, had reverted to its natural mousy brown. Right now, she possessed neither the desire nor the energy to turn it back to pink. With one hand still gripping the basin of the sink, she turned on the faucet. For a moment, she just stood there, listening to the water run. She took a deep breath and splashed a few handfuls of cold water on her face. Returning to the bedroom, she was determined to force any longing thoughts concerning Remus from her mind. Constant vigilance, she repeated to herself, policing her stream of consciousness in order to banish all romantic inclinations. Although, somehow, she was certain this was not quite what Mad-Eye had had in mind when he coined the phrase.

“You should try and get some sleep,” she remarked as she exited the bathroom, feigning a casual tone. “You take the bed. I’ll put some blankets on the floor.”

He propped himself up on his elbows to look at her properly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tonks. You just saved my life. You’re not sleeping on the floor. This is a king-sized bed, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

Great, just great. Why did this man have to be so goddamn chivalrous? So much for ignoring the mess going on in her brain and…other regions… Sharing a bed was not going to make this situation any easier. Maybe if she possessed more willpower, she would have told him no—insisted that she sleep on the floor, or went downstairs to check out another room. But she didn’t. Instead of making what would have undoubtedly been the more responsible decision, she began to remove her shoes and bloodstained clothes to join the half-naked subject of her pining under the blankets.  

The two partners sat in silence for a prolonged moment, both staring up at the ceiling to avoid meeting the other’s gaze. Tonks mentally kicked herself. This was getting ridiculous. There was no reason why she should be acting like a schoolgirl. She was an Auror: an elite wizarding warrior. She ate Death Eaters for breakfast. Surely, she held the capacity to brave the awkward territory into which they were entering. She turned to face him, sitting herself crisscross with her feet on the mattress. “So…love potion, eh?”

He chuckled lightly, relieved at the break in the tension. “I suppose I did promise you a bedtime story, didn’t I?”

“It really is the least you could do. Seeing as I saved your life and all, Lupin.”

“Fair enough, but I’m afraid I made the tale sound a lot more interesting than it actually was.”

Tonks raised her eyebrows. “Spill.”

“In my 5th year, some admirer of Sirius’s—I should note he had plenty of them—gave him some fire whiskey for Christmas. I told him not to drink it. Naturally, I assumed he had tossed it out after my warning. But then, one night, he and I were in our room and fancied a drink. Sirius opened a bottle of fire whiskey, which, as you can probably guess, was the bottle he had received from the girl. We drank it. Needless to say, when Peter and James found us later that evening, we were in quite a state—blabbering on about a ‘Michelle Thompson’ or something like that. We had started a duel over which one of us would get to ask her to Hogsmeade. I had cast Levicorpus and Sirius was hanging upside-down in mid-air when they arrived. Well, James and Peter had a right laugh, but then, being the good friends that they were, used James’s invisibility cloak to sneak down to the Dungeons and fix up an antidote. When I came to, they told me what had happened. Obviously, I was quite reluctant to drink or eat anything Sirius offered me for a long time after that.”

Tonks giggled. “Sounds like something Sirius would do, drink something given to him by a strange woman without thinking. Reminds me of the time Charlie Weasley almost ate a tainted chocolate frog before a Quidditch match. Some Slytherin bloke had them delivered by owl the morning before the game. Unmarked. I had to slap it out of his hand! Turns out it was filled with undiluted Bubotuber pus! He would’ve been out commission for weeks! But, even after we found all that out, he was still cross with me for ruining his chocolate frog! How thick can you be?!? I mean I know sometimes Mad-Eye’s methods are a bit out there, but, you’ve gotta admit, the bloke’s got a point about never eating or drinking something you didn’t make yourself.” Tonks was cracking up, fondly remembering the look of innocent disappointment on Charlie’s face. She snorted. Her hands instantly flew to cover her mouth, eyes wide. What kind of noise was that? She didn’t even have her pig snout on!

To her surprise and delight, Remus smiled and laughed alongside her. For a second. Suddenly, the weight of death hung heavy in the room. Their laughing ceased. The pair looked away from each other once again.

“You and Sirius were close, huh,” Tonks remarked, emotionless. She turned back to face him. He gave a quick nod, still avoiding meeting her gaze. She would not pry.

“You know, in some ways, you’re very much like him. You both have the same devil-may-care attitude, the same penchant for troublemaking.”

She noticed he used the present tense.

“I’d never met him before the Order. Mum was banished from the family once she married Dad, y’know. But if she ever mentioned the Blacks, she would tell me he was her favorite,” Tonks reminisced.

She remembered the last days she had spent with Sirius at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. They had laughed and drank themselves silly, destroying as many Black Family heirlooms as they could get their hands on. She had asked him for advice about her Order missions—not because she had really required it, but because she could tell her questions made him feel needed. She was pretty sure he known then about her developing crush on Remus. But, he showed no signs of jealousy or animosity towards her. Instead, he would flash sly smiles and wink at her whenever Remus was near. “Moony’s a good bloke,” he had cryptically remarked during one of their final afternoons together, after he had caught her staring.

Those conversations with her now-dead cousin seemed ages away. The guilt resurfaced once again, swelling in her chest, snapping her back to the present.

“It’s not your fault,” Remus gently whispered. Feeling tears pricking in her eyes, she furiously blinked, attempting to ebb their flow.

“That he’s…that he died. It isn’t. Bellatrix was after Sirius. I hate to admit it, but she may be a better dueler than the whole Order put together. She would have gotten him regardless, it was all set up. She would have done anything to kill him. She hated him. If it’s anyone’s fault that Sirius is dead, it’s mine. I should have known something was wrong. I should never have let him leave that house.”

“But he was dying there, too,” Tonks replied, her voice breaking. “He was dying every day he couldn’t be out fighting with us. There was nothing anyone could have done. He had to leave that house eventually. I would have done the exact same thing. It’s a shame we all didn’t wise up sooner.”

Another heavy silence filled the room. “He told me you were a good man, Remus.”

Silence again. And then, “He said the same about you.”

She raised a questioning eyebrow.

He continued. “I mean, clearly, you are a very kind, very beautiful woman…” he trailed off. Some part of Tonks was elated that he had called her beautiful. Another part was ashamed for feeling elated. They were discussing a dead guy, for Merlin’s sake!

His next remark was so quiet she wasn’t sure he had really spoken at all. “He said he approved.”

“Approved of what?”

Instead of responding to her question, he said: “I told you earlier that you’re a lot like him. But you are different in many ways, too.”

“Oh?” She tried to hide some of her disappointment. Was this his way of telling her he wasn’t interested?

He stared intensely into her eyes. “Sirius tried to do everything in his power to distance himself from expectations. He worked very hard to be seen as different, and cared very much about how others saw him, despite appearances. But you don’t feel bound by anyone’s expectations. You don’t care what others think of you. You’re unapologetically whoever you want to be, your own person. You’re unique, Dora. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

She couldn’t quite remember what had followed. An infinitesimal shift of a body. A creak of a bed spring. A gentle kiss. Then more. She briefly broke away. “I think I’m in love with you, Remus.”

He pulled her closer into him, now both sitting up. Their kisses deepened, becoming frantic and hungry—quite unlike any kisses she had experienced before. Careful not to disturb his still-healing wounds, she ran her hands over the uninjured parts of his chest, feeling the lean muscle below her fingertips. She felt his hands respond in turn. Electricity coursed through her veins. All thoughts fled her mind. It was just the two of them, wrapped up together on the old hotel bed. She glanced at him in between breathless kisses, questioning. He met her eyes and nodded. “I think I’m in love with you too, Dora.”

They both grinned as she straddled him, as gently as she could…

Tonks gazed at the sleeping man beside her, attempting to memorize every feature of his face. He looked so peaceful, so carefree, when he slept. There was no telling what would happen when he woke: if he would express regrets, tell her he couldn’t be with her, admit he had made a mistake. Maybe she was a daft idiot for sleeping with her partner. Maybe he would reject her, using their age difference or his werewolf status as excuses for why they would never work. She honestly didn’t know what she would do if he said any of those things. It could be the beginning or the end for them. But at this moment, she forced herself to remain in the present, to remain in the warmth of Remus, his arms wrapped protectively around her waist. She kissed his forehead before dozing off into a blissful, dreamless sleep. Free.