#except for the smiths but the curious-smiths family has more than enough going on what with the cousin-aunts

[plumbogs]

hardest part about ts2 fanfiction in my experience is making the whole dead parents thing work because every child and teen premade is just

[elraneth]

Curufin and Finrod...thoughts

So I have this idea about both Curufin and Finrod . I've been stuck questioning the whole Curufinrod ship for a bit, wondering how that came to be a thing and now I really want to write how it could be (even a genfic) or read it written by someone else.

So I was thinking, they had to have some sort of history back before the Darkening, but they are so typically shown to be of completely different t character, I wondered what they might have in common.

And of course, I simply can't let go of the idea that Finrod is far more complex than kindness and good cheer all the time, sorry just—no. If he was that in Aman, and I'm not of that opinion wholly, crossing the Grinding Ice after his mother's people were killed by his father's would have made a profound impact alone. And that is just the post-Darkening. What about the political mess that was Tirion prior to that?

Then there is Curufin (Atarinkë) and the landmine of issues and potential with his character only starts with his name—both of them.

I imagine both Curufin and Finrod had a lot to live up to prior to leaving Valinor, and a lot of it had to do with their fathers.

For Finrod, he is his father's firstborn son, and I imagine he looks very alike Arafinwë. For Curufin, well he is constantly and consistently compared to his father, and being Fëanor's favorite child probably had a lot of drawbacks amongst what positives there were, especially by the time Curufin was born and then progressed into young-adulthood.

So for one story (Au, I guess) let us pretend that BOTH Finrod and Curufin have that "living in the shadow of [their] father and trying to live up to it while also not being [their] father" deal.

It presents differently in each of them, of course, but the end result is eerily similar.

Both feel as if they are poor imitations and copies of their fathers, both are trying so damn hard to fit themselves into their fathers' image when they are their own separate selves, and both (whether by order of birth or something else) carry the burden of their fathers' legacy heavily on their shoulders.

Perhaps they have a meeting in Tirion after some argument or another has broken out at a family gathering between their fathers and uncles and run into each other while both are brooding over expectations and such.

Finrod is expected to be and behave like Arafinwë: kind, patient, wise, tolerant, ect. Except, I feel like while Finrod IS those things...he is also more. He is curious, and frighteningly intelligent (not that Arafinwë isn't —he is) but he has grown up mired in political intrigue that he does not escape from as well as Arafinwë had, being his father's firstborn son and a grandchild of Finwë in which there are MANY grandchildren, not just a small group of siblings. He has many more "teachers" than Arafinwë would have had in that regard, only having four older siblings and that is all. And of course Finrod lives with "firstborn" syndrome in which he has to set an example for his younger siblings and all that.

Quite a lot to deal with, all in all.

Curufin is in a similar boat. Fëanor gave Curufin his own name and THEN his mother compounded it by naming him "little-father". Curufin's major talents are Fëanor's, not his own either. And while he takes pride (so much pride) in his smithwork, I imagine it probably turned into a bitter sort of pride because that was just ONE MORE THING that was his father's first. Compound this with NOT being the firstborn, having four older siblings whose talents were their own, and looking physically just like his father too, well... in such a large family is it any wonder that while being proud to be compared to his father who is hailed as the Greatest of the Noldor that he might just want to be seen for himself? He is smart enough to be well aware long before the Flight that while he is compared to his father in all ways, he is decidedly NOT his father. He is not the BEST smith, does not have the SAME bright fire in his spirit, ect .

So I'd think that perhaps where Arafinwë runs cool and calm, Finrod is more impetuous, more "firey" (though not enough, on the surfaces his sister can read, for Artanis—he has an image to maintain!) And then where Fëanor is a blazing fire of outspoken hot-headedness and Curufin is shown (and written) to be more calculating than Fëanor (at least in my opinion) so he is more like a cold fire, not as hot (though he burns everyone his cuts with that sharp tongue of his equally ad madly—he has an image to maintain!).

By the time Curufin and Celegorm come to Nargothrond, well...a lot has happened on both sides.

[thepearlyone]

Artific-ial Desires

Pearly’s Notes: this one feels like one of my best ones yet! Not that this didn’t take a while, but it feels like I went through like nine or ten good, working drafts on this. Though it didn’t end up how I initially envisioned, the beast it has become is still so beautiful.

~for kiera~

(or, read it on google docs here! )

~~~~

The triangle-shaped corner store had recently sold- which wouldn’t have been notable in the slightest, except for the buyer. In just the past few days, grime was stripped away, windows were sparkled, new furniture rushed in, all at a breakneck pace- which was typical only for the most elite. And what’s more, the construction company was not the ‘ol reliable mom and pop’ kind, but a very specific one most people in the area didn’t even know. Therefore, someone had to be asking the gossip to spread like wildfire- and all signs pointed to the Lady Von-Quirandra.

The throng filled the entranceway to the newly refurbished boutique, packing themselves all into a doorway and front hallway meant for at least twenty people fewer. There was something about this kind of crowd that meant a spectacle- and Cassandra wasn’t about to miss out on one. It looked like she’d missed out on whatever the first showcase was, as the artificer had their back turned and was clearly answering a question while herding the crowd to another.

“Oh, they’re my own creation- you wouldn’t be able to even find anything remotely similar anywhere else, much less a shop that can match the level of intricate craftsmanship.” She muttered under her breath something about arrogance leading before a great fall, but the speaker’s bold claim definitely seemed apt.

Everything in the shop was dripping with quality, sometimes literally. The fine swirls of one of the displayed rings caught everyone’s eyes initially- the crowd even rushed forward in an attempt to prevent it from melting. Each ring in that display was set up and carefully lit (inside each box, of course) to appear as though it was melting, but each one was so solidly constructed that no one could say anything unpleasant about the effect.

“Now, onto another small invention of mine, I’m proud to finally unveil these-“ It was just a simple pair of diamond-shaped earrings. They looked impressive, but there really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. At least, if there was, it wasn’t visible at the first blush, and the crowd was hurried over to the next booth quickly enough. However, Cassandra definitely wanted to ask about them, as if a one-on-one were even possible with such a famous artificer. She noticed the crowd thinning, as some of the younger members quickly fanned out to run home- after all, entering artificers’ shops were the kind of thing that mothers gave strict punishments for- and she could tell that a couple more of those leaving couldn’t have afforded the ‘intricate craftsmanship’ but wanted to have hope talked into them.

She tarried for as long as she could to look at the diamond-shaped earrings. The gems seemed to be simple studs, although she knew that a lot of concentration had been poured into the project. It was simple- but that made it all the more dangerous, as it could lure people into a false sense of security. The posts seemed to be a material similar to silver, but in the right lighting, Cassandra swore she saw it shimmer.

Ushered kindly to the next booth by everyone’s absence, she admired the plentiful array- sets, fully decked out in black velvet backing, laid out for the finest of society. These had to be personal commissions, things made for specific people in mind- either the artificer knew some slaves or nobles in need of their services, or perhaps they contacted THEM-

She chided herself on even considering that possibility- what the hell was she thinking? No noble-born family, especially not anyone the D’Antonias knew, would ever consider reaching out-artificing was dangerous business. No one ever cared how it happened, either, because if you stuck your neck too close to find out- it could end up adorned in the next showcase.

“Now, we’ve not yet gotten a private room, but those of you interested in our… New Acquisitions, please step this way. I’d be delighted to… guide each of you to them.” Even more fanned out, leaving a still rather sizeable crowd, with only a handful of them taking the opportunity to privately take an appointment.

New Acquisitions- the not-so-secret code word for slaves, either legal or illegal. Slaves had been quite controversial when first introduced a few decades ago, but now every family worth their weight in gold had them, and it was almost just another job. Slave applications were valuable and showed that you were selflessly serving another family- but there were still criminals. Unscrupulous individuals, people who might seek out an artificer to do the dirty work rather than submit their findings to the Justice Computer… Unhappy spouses, unruly coworkers, anyone who might be able to scrape up enough cash.

Then again, they could end up in the same position they wished for someone else- when trying to trick an artificer… It was always hard to tell with them. Everything was.

The lucky moment meant that she could go back to examining what she pleased- the simple earrings. Cassandra was very careful not to touch anything, but she drew quite close to them. The plain diamond-shaped crystals didn’t seem to hold any secrets, and as she carefully maneuvered the box into the light, it merely added to her curiosity. The earrings’ posts still sparkled slightly, meaning this had to be some sort of odd material- but it would only mean that Cassandra would have to ask. Why one pedestal and ‘proud to unveil’ for one pair of earrings that didn’t have anything odd to them?

~~~~

The individual meetings went by faster than anyone could imagine, with more of the crowd flowing out of either the showroom or shop- dazzled at the spectacle. Cassandra carefully slinked back towards the main group, acting as though she was admiring other pieces- a ring here, passing the couple of sets, until-

“Ah, hello there- I hope you’re enjoying the new opening?” She gasped, as they drew much closer to her. The fourteen people now left in the shop began to spread throughout the shop’s layout, leaving her in a far more intimate setting than she previously thought possible. The crowd cover had certainly been nice- but they were now milling up and down the aisles to gawk at the dainty jewelry, the tinkered toys, and the gorgeous gadgets.

Her attention snapped back to the artificer, who was now holding a curious device, one that seemed to be purifying the air. Cassandra had heard about them before, but never seen one so close, or so small- much larger versions were used in air factories. It only took her a few seconds to understand it- the small embroidered gas-bag at the back would fill, and slowly get puffed out by the user- and her mind dismissed it from any chance of danger.

She gave a polite yet faint smile, her mind racing to prepare some sort of platitude that would be enough to avoid detection.

“I certainly admired many of your pieces.” This was said with more than a little trepidation, which the artificer seemed to enjoy, bringing out a smile from underneath their goggles and wide-brimmed smithing hat.

“oh? So you know the rules…” And she did. She was very well-acquainted with them: her mother had even had a few friends whisked away under the Equal Rites, she’d seen them happily smiling with enchanted collars and enchanted rings… of course, for some of them she had been too young to understand, but now-

The slight puff of air brought her quickly back to reality, where the artificer stood next to her. They were clad in a soft shimmering gown, one that played off of their curves just like some of the rings on display. It wasn’t as frilly or poofy, and yet seemed to accentuate their body shape with an extra dimension- lending an odd effect to the gown. Cassandra wasn’t familiar with the material- as many artificers used off-world or off-dimension materials in their own creation… And now it was clear she was staring again, so she had to clear her throat and ask a question or else seem like a buffoon.

“Your own design?” This elicited a knowing smile, and a slow circular glide from their feet in a twirl around. This was to show the dress off, undoubtedly, and Cassandra delighted in it.

“No, unfortunately- but it was my material. The dressmaker from that forest with the slightly lewd name, in case you’re wondering how to get a matching set.” The reply almost seemed teasing, knowing- as if they could know her life story with just a glance. Again, not as if she’d be able to afford anything close to a single piece from the shop without serious considerations both conceptual and legal, financial (and legal) assistance, and magical ward prevention insurance. Even drafting up a contract would be far above her abilities and pay grade, but it could be the only surefire way to avoid any nastiness from anyone involved- especially an artificer.

“Hmm.. I would typically ask if there was one piece that stuck out to you, but I get the feeling I already know what it is. Given your silence… I’d like your name before I guess.” The remnants of the crowd had been slowly filtering out, unbeknownst to her, with one or two pieces being sold- the in-shop lawyer was already beaming and haggling with clients which Cassandra *had* seen- and the corner-store size lent the appearance of being quaint or familial. She had to admit it was a clever arrangement.

“I- sorry. Between the dress and the other pieces, I guess I’m a little starstruck. It’s not every day you get to ‘meet’ one, you know.” She hoped that her cheeks hadn’t blossomed into a blush- although there was no way to know for sure, only to hope and observe the artificer. She also hadn’t meant to any malice, although the hint of a second meaning was merely waiting to be picked up.

They were dangerous folk- many artificers had been caught with entire houses or brothels full of newly-rited thralls. Even tales of just one catching the eye of an entire town, using nothing but forks or pushpins or paperclips or slivers of metal and the inimitable inextricable tool that was their own wit, danced around the fringes of villages. Artificers were not to be listened to, a ‘boogeyman’ that assisted everyday life, that generously acted while greedily taking- in the same instance. Payment could very well be ‘your firstborn’ when dealing with them, and if it was… You’d best hope you weren’t an eldest child.

They took just another second to respond, a hand darting out from the gown. An immaculate white glove, made from plain cloth- which caused her internal tension to unwind quite a bit- which asked for her own hand.

“The name is Von-Quirandra, as I’m sure you’re no doubt aware. The shop is mine, recently acquired with… a little help.” The slight break made Cassandra take note, but she was careful not to advertise it as they continued-

“You may be wondering about the lawyer, he’s a family friend and came with the store.” She noticed a slight glint in the light, and this may have tipped them off because they continued, “Any and all gifts would be voluntary, non-contractual, and specifically not enchanted.”

“After all, I couldn’t expect someone to willingly accept things from an artificer without proper vetting or lineage- so you may view his, in the back office.”

They cleared their throat again, “As I requested, your name would be..?”

“Cassandra.” She didn’t know why she offered it so plainly.

“Cassandra…” The soft utterance, a shower of heavenly stars captured and smoothed into a ribbon off of which the word slid. They said it plainly yet perfectly, her skin crawling with delight and disquiet- but more of the former.

“Cassandra. Quite a lovely name. May I guess which piece caught your eye?” She nodded gently, as if trying to quiet and push aside the thoughts that yelled about the danger of even talking to an artificer.

“My first guess would be the Quirmian Collar- oh, I mean- the one on display towards the front of the store that you must have seen as you entered.” Truth be told, that was the one she’d missed, although the light was quite pretty on it. A highborn slave might wear such a necklace, so it wasn’t something Cassandra could have or even aspired to. No, their family didn’t wish for slaves- or wish to be them.

“Judging by the way you haven’t lit up like a firework, I’d say another one.. Allow me to try again- a private commission of mine? Perhaps the jade engraved set- I bet…” This time, their face moved even closer to her, as if quizzically judging her.

“No.” The terse response plopped out after another moment of silence.

“I see, Cassandra. Might I be permitted one last guess?” They matched her grin, and Cassandra hoped with all her heart that she didn’t appear to be blushing. With how both afraid and stimulated she was, her brain continued to rattle off reasons to leave, but her feet stayed put.

“The third and final guess is… Hmm. I don’t wish to waste it… I can rule one thing out, though- I know you didn’t request a private showing, so I’ll guess… the melting rings, using the sands of Terr-sichoré?”

Their previous smile began to curl into a frown. Their eyebrows, too-

“You seem to be much more of a mystery than you let on, Cassandra. Please.”

She blinked, unsure of what exactly to do and yet still recovering from the way they said her name.

“Please, tell me some more- what did you like? How might I know you?”

“I-uh, well, you know my name, and I come from the D’Antonia-“

“Oh!! Oh my goodness, Cassandra D’Antonia… I am humbled to have you in my presence.” Their crimson lips whispered the word with a soft affect- the perfect shiver traveling up her back in accordance with it. Her cheeks were now a beet-red. There was no chance of hiding it anymore.

“Thank you. I, erm, happened across the crowd, and…”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. The crowd seemed to mostly be there to be talked to, but I did get quite a few purchases. More than I expected, if I may confide in such a prestigious family. It’s a shame that-“

Cassandra turned, hearing rather loud footsteps, which revealed just how startled and absorbed in each other they both were. She swore that despite her own reddening cheeks, the Lady Von-Quirandra seemed to be blushing as well. They turned back towards the lawyer, and were handed a report- although it only needed a quick scan of her attention.

“Ah, thank you. If you could, I think we could use a little more privacy.” The Lady Von-Quirandra handed it back to the lawyer, who withdrew to the office again, but that comment stuck in her mind. It caused her to notice-

She was alone. With an artificer. In their own shop.

“So, Cassandra- I understand you are just a bit afraid. There’s plenty of reason to be… but for a lady such as yourself, I wouldn’t dare try anything unless you asked for it.” their gown swished gently as they drew within whispering distance, voice so soft and smooth.

“I would be wonderfully glad to show the D’Antonia house around. If there is anything you can think of…”

The answer leapt from her mouth before she had time to realize it.

“The earrings.” Realizing she’d said it out loud, her eyes widened in intertwined surprise and fear, her arm now moving up to clamp her mouth shut.

Their eyes flashed in shock behind the goggles, so much so that they removed them.

“Oh my… Cassandra… I didn’t think it would be you who might fall prey to them.” The reverence that they had for her name… Goddesses be damned, the artificer might as well be kissing her right on the-

Her cheeks were barely able to burn a brighter red, as the flame colors spread up her ears and forehead. Banishing the thought, she blinked- only to look into the Lady Von-Quirandra’s… beautiful eyes. Their visage was so soft yet toned, pale- but it had a moonlight brilliance to it.

Even more striking, they took her hand- guiding it back towards the pedestal where the earrings await. The simple box, with the inelaborate studs… soon, the answers would be revealed. But did she really want them?

Their cotton enveloped hand began to caress her cheek, sending a wave of calm throughout her body.

“Oh, Cassandra… such a pretty darling. You’d like to know what’s so special about these?” They cooed, their normally charismatic voice turning lower and smoother- almost sultry… She nodded, her eyes fluttering under their careful ministrations- as if they were massaging her oh so wonderfully.

“You’re right about them. They’re so very special. One thing I’ve been working on for, well, years. My little personal project. They’re made with specific people in mind…” Her ears (and arousal) perked up slightly, but the soothing hands made sure it was only barely noticeable as she relaxed further.

“First, I do suppose a quick lesson in magic is required.” Their soft little titter revealed a delight in Cassandra she hadn’t thought was requited- but must have been all along.. The workshop entrance was right near them, and The Lady closed the door- hanging up their goggles carefully and continuing to explain.

“Magic requires power- the ability to mold the natural world… A focus or desire for that change… and some method to focus both power and desire into a physical good. A contract.” Some of this was purred delicately into Cassandra’s ear, and some was simply stated- as the hat slipped off and was put away on top of the goggles.

“We artificers simply adore making contracts-it’s much of the sparkle that helps each of us enjoy life. Having even just one minute of someone else’s life… access to their own imbued power, to their thoughts, their memories… I find it delectable.”

“So… I’m sure that you wish to draw up a contract… properly. Before you try them on, and for you to understand what they can do. I’ll ask for an hour, minimum of ten minutes…” Their moonlight skin had turned to a soft flushed rose now, having clearly… warmed up to Cassandra. This line of thoughts seemed to meander aimlessly, ending with a soft bump into the word ‘please’- whispered pleadingly to Cassandra.

She certainly was curious. Although her fears about artificers couldn’t be assuaged, The Lady certainly had an interest in her. Her mind was racing, risks thrown aside- filled with the new possibilities and the desire of pleasing someone who was interested in her rather than her family’s wealth or status. The ideas whirred in front of her-

Well, the lawyer would be available to draw up the contract. She’d be able to give just ten minutes… It could possibly endear her to The Lady, and it would be a way to get a free piece- which could be given off to another for disenchanting and selling… it, just in case. Presuming it didn’t do anything first. At the very least, she could talk to the lawyer alone.

And if… if the Lady did harbor certain unsavory desires for her, it might be… beneficial to get in- get out- and then use the money from the other artificer she found to disappear. See? There was definitely a way to escape. She’d be fine.

~~~~

Entering the lawyer’s office was strikingly different, as everything was simultaneously neatly organized and a sprawling jungle of paperwork. Cassandra was able to find it oddly relaxing- far enough away from the Lady Von-Quirandra to be immune from anything untoward, but close enough to still feel her influence on everything in the room. The finely crafted chairs, the softwood desk, the carefully stacked papers…

“So- I’m sure you understand the typical thoughts most clients have. Rest assured, you aren’t alone here- I’m also here to help. I’ve got some preliminary documents drawn up, although I’d need your help and name to complete them.” He was about six feet tall, making him just a bit shorter than The Lady (but larger, and certainly more mountainous than Cassandra). He had an awfully kind smile, and definitely seemed to be groomed daily in order to keep up appearances- the suit was certainly professional enough. However, her eyes were drawn to-

“Sir… your ears..!” Cassandra was quite surprised to find a pair of earrings in his ears, not quite matching the ones out there in the box- diamond shaped, but certainly of a much plainer material. It didn’t shimmer in the light, but still had the same design…

He shrugged this off with a chuckle, taking them out and showing them to her. “They’re quite plain, unlike the ones Milady has been working on. I requested the first prototype as payment for a rather unruly client.” Seeing them alone, with no box, made them feel so… Unremarkable. Tame, almost.

“I assure you, they are not enchanted in any way. Shall we get down to business now?” She nodded curtly, offering her name- which elicited a soft gasp from the lawyer, but did not pause his diligent writing. The D’Antonia name was still weighty enough to cause a dent- even though they’d fallen on harder times lately.

“Well, with that finished… How much time are you willing to give her? Would you like to give the full hour, or just the ten-minute minimum?” She paused, faltering…

“Sir… I still don’t know what it does.”

“I know.” His response was curt and quick.

“And that doesn’t seem odd to you?” Her eyebrows furled in shock, examining his haptics, trying to find any sign that she might be given a ‘free’ preview. One where she might not be risking anything.

“Of course not. It’s part of the guarantee- you won’t be able to share anything about the piece with Milady’s competitors if you walk away, and if you’re given an enforceable contract, you’ll have to abide by it. On the other hand, signing this contract will also protect Milady from anything untoward, as you can see from these paragraphs right here.” Well, he certainly was a good lawyer- she noticed those paragraphs, and her own family’s training told her that it was close enough to airtight for her safety…

“I see. So instead of a trial period, this contract is a trial period, and after the ten minutes, it will come off. Is that right?”

“Yes. If you’d like, we can draft up another contract for purchase when you’re done.”

“We’ll see.” She finished with the four-page document, taking the offered pen. “How is the time determined?”

“I’ve got the proper stopwatch right here, Ms. D’Antonia.” He pulled it out of his drawer, presenting her with a silver stopwatch- and she instantly noted the protective runes carved in it. Not only would it be protected from any magical interference, but it would undo any magical changes if it surpassed 30 seconds from the allotted time. And since there would be no way for either of them to mess with it… She turned it over in her hands before setting it down and sliding the contract under it.

“Are you ready, Ms. D’Antonia? The time will start when you exit the doorway.”

Cassandra’s signature and smug smile was enough to prove that she was. She’d find out about these mysterious earrings, and prove to herself that all the danger about artificers was nonsense. After all, she had this contract to protect her.

~~~~

The Lady met her right as she opened the door outwards, leaning against the pedestal they’d placed. Their smirk was much more graceful than before, although it still betrayed a particular interest in her.

“You haven’t left the doorway yet… Cassandra.~” Yet again, their words were a fluttering crescendo of affection.

“Well, ‘Milady’, you do have me ‘captive’ for ten minutes.” They cracked open the plain box, nodding… Their artificing gear was entirely gone, as well as the cotton gloves- allowing Cassandra a look at their face. It was rather smooth, with only a couple of wrinkled scars, as well as the common ‘forge-tan’… and yet it was so gorgeous Cassandra couldn’t help but look at it.

They brought the earrings forth, allowing Cassandra to examine them even more, but teasingly pulling them away at the last second. Only once she extended her fingers… finally touching the object of her intrigue, turning it over carefully. The earring backs seemed to be new, since she hadn’t been able to take it out previously, but she quickly found herself slipping them into one ear, and then the other.

That must have been what was so alluring about them, their simplicity…

Her foot involuntarily moved forward at the same time she heard a very loud CLICK in both ears. She felt the earring backs twist slightly, something fall to the ground…

and her thoughts vanished. Everything except what was directly in front of her faded, her mind shutting down instantly, only able to track what They.. no, Milady, was doing. The clack of Milady’s heels felt so dull, only picking up when something slipped from Milady’s lips.

“Cassandra? Are you still in there?” Their voice seemed almost… afraid. Had she been able to think properly, she would have known it was tinged with their concern and affection for her.

The response was a dry, dull, almost robotic “Yes, Milady.” Her head could not move an inch, she was so deeply and utterly enthralled.

“You’re not uncomfortable, are you?” And now this demanded the reverse- she wasn’t uncomfortable, which was the oddest thing to her. Everything in her body must have been stiff, and yet she felt as if she were laying on a fine cushion.

“Good. I… I would like you to tell me of yourself. Then, how you feel about… me. Artificers.” Milady looked exhausted, but so wonderfully happy- their eyes welled with tears from seeing their invention so perfected. They pulled up an ornate chair in front of her, listening attentively with their head perched atop one of their palms. They seemed so at ease… resting into the chair’s natural shape and the armrests to listen to their little subject.

“Where should… should…” This quickly brought out a gasp, and widened eyes from Milady-

“Is Cassandra unsure how to refer to herself at the moment, with the backs in place?” It seemed like they had some experience with this, then- perhaps only one other, though, given their tone and reactions.

“Yes Milady.”

“Cassandra ought to use the third person for now. Understood? Nod, please, then continue from the beginning- starting with how she’s feeling, and then when she entered the shop.”

A gentle nod from Cassandra’s head, along with an odd feeling- bliss… presumably from following Milady’s order. Is this what artificers did normally? Have the thralls talk to them? If she could have a consistent thought, she would have tried to hold onto that one, but it was pushed down into nothingness by the calming backs.

“Cassandra is unsure what she is experiencing. She is… feeling odd. Although she stopped in to examine the spectacle, she felt… drawn to these earrings. Curious about them. There was something special about them.” Her speaking paused, as she saw Milady holding up one finger.

“Cassandra, please speak normally. Although… just a hint like this. Nod if you understand, and continue.” She felt her vocal cords unlock with a curt nod, utterly freeing her except for one- mouth finally able to move at her own will… but there was still the lingering urge to simply say what she was directed to.

“Cassandra is now aware of what might be so special about them. They make Cassandra unable to think. Unable to disobey, Milady.” At least her speaking had returned to normal- but that thought, too, slipped down into the void.

“I… Would normal Cassandra… How does Cassandra feel about me?”

“Cassandra feels intrigued, interested, stimulated, a-“

“I meant… Does Cassandra like me?” Now Milady was easily blushing, covering their face slightly.

After a very slight pause… “Yes, Milady.” was uttered from her lips, much of the affection she still felt dripping from her words.

“Does… Cassandra know how I feel about her as well?” This was clearly said with a tinge of embarrassment, but curiosity had taken Milady over.

“Cassandra feels that… yes, Milady may perhaps like her. Especially now, like this.”

“O-oh. I see. The attention is, ah, requited. Good! I, ah, believe we’ll move on now…” Milady was covering their head with their hands, clearly turning a deeper flushed red. Had Cassandra been able to properly recall this later, she would have noticed that Milady had turned away from her vision and towards a clipboard to assist hiding their shame.

“Very well… increase vision to normal parameters-“ which meant she could see again, able to focus and look around normally, “standard head mobility as well, and increase thoughts to twenty percent.” She…

Cassandra was thinking. In front of an artificer.

“Kneel.”

Cassandra was kneeling and looking up at an artificer. The sheer danger of what she had done pumped through her veins, but she could not bring herself to move any more than turning away her head slightly- but she didn’t want to look away from the beautiful Lady Von Quirandra.

“Oh my, that feels much better… more domineering, don’t you think?” This brought out an electrified smile, one that she stared at, enraptured and terrified alike. Their hand reached out to tip up her chin with a giggle, stroking her cheek and calming her in the process.

“Please… I know you’re probably afraid, but I don’t wish you to be. I wanted you to experience… this.” It was certainly blissful, not to have to think. Not to be a noble. Not to occupy oneself with all these preconceived notions, manners, passions, etiquette that had to be followed every second of being –

“Cassandra.” That name again, the one that made her eyelids flutter from simply hearing The Lady Von Quirandra say it. However, her eyes had to be open again- so they were opened.

“Please increase thoughts to full. How are you feeling?”

“I… what the hell did you do to me?” She couldn’t help but ask this in the kindest way possible, filled with a curiosity and a wistful arousal- this thought a balloon, inflating with potential.

“The backs have a certain enthralling power. One to eliminate potential thought, even as it happens, to allow for someone to control the wearer entirely. What’s more, they keep their wearers nice and obedient.” The Lady almost said this a little lustily, clearly enjoying the moment- but also playfully and reassuringly… looking down straight into Cassandra’s hazel eyes.

“I hope you understand their power well, now. At the end of your time, you’ll make a decision. It may not be today, perhaps in a few days, or weeks. I hope that you’ll choose to become my.. ah, well… ‘apprentice’.” The Lady went back to covering their face and peeking out at the kneeling figure below them

Her face contorted in shock, stretching in disbelief- before snapping back to a central position. Apparently her shoulders were not allowed to move much, but her face and brain were still ‘allowed’ to move. An apprentice? To an artificer? She couldn’t believe the offer- not least of which for being one of the least qualified people on the planet, but also for the incredulity of it all.

“I understand that you might be a-“

“Your apprentice, Lady??? I don’t know the first thing about-!~”

“Hush, please. I don’t wish for Ashton to be disturbed.” Her jaw instantly slipped shut.

“And that’s not quite true- I taught you ‘the first thing about magic’, and really all you would need to know. I… I need someone acquainted with selling. It truly takes a toll on me to do these kinds of shows. I can’t always afford the… showmanship to get up and move every time that a lot of nobles say I ought to show off my work more.” They slumped further into the chair, clearly sulking.

“I’m skilled, as you can see, but… not there, in that kind of arena. I’d rather be sticking my head in the oil jar than trying to upsell a ring that I didn’t even put that much effort into.”

Throughout this rant, Cassandra could see the lines on their face- clearly an exhausted person, much like her family- trying to get by the best they could.

“…besides, it would be… more than that.” The Lady cleared their throat before continuing, leaving a hefty dramatic pause.

“You could be free from your family name.”

The impossible idea spread through her mind in stages. Relief from the D’Antonias’ strict rules, the imposed penny-pinching, the etiquette- then that she would be with someone. Of course, the idea settled back in of artificers, and much worse-

“And you would only have one restricted hour at most. Maybe two, if we both feel… intimate that night.” This was said in increasingly hushed tones, causing an outbreak of blushing on both of their parts.

“Are you… proposing??” The Lady squealed in shame, answering-

“O-oonly to be my… girlfriend! I don’t want you to get any ideas of that just yet, but… I think I’d like that as well… I could make us a pair of rings, later…”

The flustered D’Antonia heiress couldn’t help but keep opening and closing her mouth, flabbergasted by the idea that seemed

“Keep your mouth shut, dear. Just… think about it for when you’re done. Which is… hm, soon. Too soon…” The backs pulsed gently with enchanted power, and the carefully wound silver pocketwatch chimed with one minute left.

“Return to thrall mode, just for now- but keep the vocal modifiers.” She felt her thoughts be blasted into the wind again, her body relaxing even further, letting go of all the tension inside her…

“Just keep relaxing, little Cassandra… I want you to understand what this is like. How blissful this can be for you. How obedient you can be made. And that this is an offer unlike any other- one where I will use you, remold you, make you into a new beautiful piece- one worthy of your own name. No more silly D’Antonia to hold you back and keep you inside a gilded prison.”

The Lady seemed much calmer, maintaining that more dominant affect, but… if Cassandra were able to think, she’d know it was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from each of them. For the few seconds, they smiled and admired their thrall, four cheeks blushing in turn.

~~~~

The timer went off, returning Cassandra to her normal thoughts instantly- though it left her blushing as red as the first dress she’d ever worn to her family’s elegant ball. She rose, tentatively, under the gaze of The Lady. They slightly rose and-

It was just her instincts acting now, her base fear- and she ran out of the small corner shop into the rain. The thump of her heart pounding in her ears drove out the surprised shriek of the lawyer, the splash of mud against the cobblestone street, leaving behind only the knowledge of which street to take- left, right, center down the path here…

Cassandra arrived at the manor steps, and collapsed to her knees… a relentless sob had taken hold of her, tears and rain both streaking across her face.

Truth be told, she hadn’t realized she’d even stolen the backs until she’d taken them out of her ears, and yet- the urge to still treat them with care was there. All of this was happening so suddenly. There was so much that she just… didn’t know. Her own feelings were a jumble of butterflies, swirling and fluttering around inside…

She tried to sort them, to herd them- the way her mother had taught her, giving them all names and pretty colors, making them butterflies in her own mind-[herbarium].

But as soon as she’d plucked one out from the swirling horde, visualizing its soft iridescent wings, picturing the soft caress of Their glove again-

no.

Her legs crumpled weakly, pleading that no one would see her like this, so disheveled and undone by… the new shop.

She’d return to the shop tomorrow, return the backs, leave a note of thanks just to be… cordial enough, and just… flee. Run away somewhere. Get away from this ancient town and its horrid artificer.

The offer was just too good to be true.

~~~~

Some time later…

“Ah, hello, Missus Val-Periton! May I escort you to the back? Your pendant is ready.” Cassandra beamed happily at the couple that had strolled into the shop, her own earrings sparkling in the multitude of framed lights. The new verdant dress she strolled around the shop in was almost the shop’s mascot- with the new sign painted with a cartoonish version of it draped alongside the logo. Business was booming, especially since a familiar face could help ease the fears about artificers.

Her Lady Von Quirandra was placing the finishing touches on the precious pendant, and the couple was more than glad to finish paying- the pendant sparkled brilliantly in Her Lady’s hands. As the couple strolled out of the shop proudly, Her Lady gently brushed their hand against her cheek, repeating with the softest possible murmur the most precious words they both knew.

“You did so well for Me, Thrall Cassandra. I love you.” And with an idolizing sigh, Cassandra D’arvon Quirandra returned them.

fin

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 13: The Mirror of Erised

This is a chapter I was really looking forward to! How many times have we gotten the chance to explore what these characters would see in there? I did it all from one point of view for a very particular reason though, which is that you'll discover some in later chapters. For now, hope you enjoy this rather Regulus centric one!

Regulus had been so invested in his own thoughts that while he'd had no choice but to acknowledge the sickening feeling of being transported without permission again, his new immediate surroundings were unimpressive enough his train of thought kept going inside this seemingly empty classroom.

He agreed with Evans up to a point. While Snape seemed to be going out of his way to make himself the obvious person stealing the Stone, and that it was under threat was obvious, Dumbledore wouldn't have it moved if it wasn't. The problem was, he could still believe any teacher in the school could have fallen under the same circumstances, and he'd be remiss not to notice that in fact it wasn't every teacher, but only one other that consistently kept popping up around Snape-

"Oi, Moony, you read what this says?"

His elder brother, as usual, interrupted his thoughts with whatever his obnoxiousness was about this time. He and his three friends were crowded around, well now that Regulus focused it was rather odd to see a mirror just sitting around in here.

"It's not a language I recognize," the other returned before turning away dismissively and instead began wandering the room, calling Sirius after him to find the book again and get the next chapter going.

Sirius, who had landed in the middle and blinked in confusion for a moment watching Lupin walk off and then glancing back, hurried after him.

Potter followed after them at once, ruffling up his hair and glancing anxiously at the red-head like he actually thought she'd find him more inflated than usual for landing in front of the mirror. Actually, that was likely the reason for why she gave a derisive sniff and turned away, but considering that was her standard reaction it was hard to tell.

Noticing Alice Smith and Frank Longbottom by the window with nothing of interest about them, and still just the tiniest bit curious what his brother had been shouting about, he instead circled to the mirror proper just behind where Pettigrew was looking transfixed into the center. It was a grand old thing, nearly the height of the room with magnificent wood-carved feet, and he saw clearly the inscription above it that not only stumped Sirius but himself as they weren't words he knew.

Still though, he couldn't figure out what had Pettigrew so transfixed on the image. He'd never seemed as vain as his brother or best friend, in fact this Marauder was often at the back of the group with Lupin, far more prone to watching them get into mischief than actually joining in, something Regulus could respect considering how far he'd always strived to stay out of trouble but also keep in good graces.

Finally the lot gave up a manual search and instead summoned the book to them, which came whizzing out from behind the mirror apparently. Sirius caught it, and ignoring Potters crack about him getting a chapter involving a mirror, began at once.

The boys burst out laughing almost at once upon reading of the holiday hijinks, and Potter looked around in surprise when he finally seemed to realize one hadn't joined in.

"Oi, Wormtail, since when are you not boasting of who you last pegged with a snowball?"

Pettigrew jumped guiltily, meeting Potter's eyes for an instant and flushing at having been caught, and immediately darted over to their side to join in. He kept throwing lingering looks back to where he'd been standing, so again Regulus turned his attention to his own reflection, and startled in surprise.

Now that the other wasn't in the way, he was the only one left in the center of the reflection, and the view wasn't himself. Not exactly.

He turned on the spot but of course no one was actually there behind him. No one even glanced over at him except Pettigrew, who was now watching him with a critical eye and looking between him and the mirror. They met eyes, a passage of understanding wove between them, and Regulus slowly turned back to see that image still there.

That Regulus was older, probably just seventeen, his parents over one shoulder and beaming with pride at their son, and the Dark Lord on his other, bestowing him as the right hand of the Death Eaters. It was the only thing he'd ever wanted from his life, because he knew there could be no better calling, or his parents would want that for him instead.

His eyes wavered, but not because of the mirror, instead it lingered behind his mind's eye when he tore his sight away to see his brother still laughing along with his friends without a care in the world. He and Lupin were reminiscing about something they'd done over their Christmas break, just the two of them. Sirius had of course not come home for the holidays, just like the past five years, just like this younger Potter was going to be doing it seemed.

"Oi Prongs, come er'," Pettigrew suddenly tore him away and began towing him back to the mirror, sudden inspiration lighting his eyes. Potter went along curiously, still throwing half anxious glances at Evans and stopped in confusion just on the edge of the reflection.

"What?" he demanded when his friend began watching him anxiously.

"Err, here, come er' and look at this proper."

Regulus realized what he was doing just as he prodded Potter into the center, once again blocking out Regulus' view. He had half a mind to shove both of them back out of the way, but before he could act on the impulse their reactions became too fascinating to watch.

He wasn't sure what that eager look on Pettigrew's face was, maybe validation that whatever this mirrors trick was didn't work on just him, though he should already know that not to be true considering he'd just been watching Regulus react to it.

Potter's reaction was the most vivid yet. "Glory, what is this thing?" He yelped loud enough for the whole empty castle to hear as he pressed his hand right up to the image, gazing at it with the widest smile any had seen.

"Eh?" Sirius and Lupin looked up from where they'd been whispering together while Longbottom and Smith had been laughing that they'd be in the library right now if they could, looking up Flamel as well. Even Evans, who'd apparently been feigning disinterest to the ceiling this whole time, turned begrudgingly around at such a statement, all of them to reexamine the mirror.

"What do you see?" Pettigrew demanded at once, his face alight with eagerness as he looked from the mirror to his friend, back and forth like he was hoping to get just a glimpse himself, or perhaps still trying to see his own sight again.

"The future I hope!" He whooped.

"I'm sure Harry's going to find this thing," Smith said, craning her neck around from her desk but still keeping back from it now that it was clearly confirmed as some kind of magical object, but she considered herself smart enough not to go poking around it until she actually knew what it was.

Longbottom's curiosity got the better of him though, and he slid free to edge around and see it proper. "I don't see nothing but myself," he told what they'd all seen at first.

"You have to look in it proper, obviously," Potter said dismissively, though making no move to allow him to do so, his eyes still transfixed on whatever his eyes alone could see.

Pettigrew huffed, clearly feeling dismissed his question hadn't been answered, but then, as he had yet to volunteer himself what he'd seen, Regulus didn't quite blame Potter.

They'd all been so thoroughly distracted by this mirror, they'd hardly taken any notice of Harry's search for Flamel or that his holiday break had arrived. Sirius had though, easily relating to what Harry was going through in not wanting to be at his place for the holidays, so he honestly hadn't been paying Prongs any mind, going through each of his presents with a warm smile, but freezing in shock as a particular one was revealed.

He nudged Remus, hard, who scowled slightly at him but leaned in as Sirius silently offered the book and then Sirius got to watch that same expression flit across his face. Considering the past few times they'd been interrupted though, neither dared say anything about what they really thought this thing was in such an open place even if the others were so thoroughly distracted. It was ruined all the same anyways when Sirius kept going, honestly happy for a moment no one was really paying attention until he caught their attention when it was confirmed Harry had been gifted an Invisibility Cloak, and the strange note attached.

"Potter has an Invisibility Cloak?" Evans couldn't seem to help demanding as if of someone else even as she turned to him like she expected an answer.

Clearly still disoriented from his own desire of the mirrors image, his answer came out slowly, "no, well I haven't now, so not a clue what that's about."

Smith and Longbottom were still muttering their shock that such a thing would ever be in his hands, let alone an eleven year olds. Those were highly rare and really valuable, Regulus agreed it would boggle the mind for anyone but an elite Auror to be in possession of a true one.

Evans just tisked and turned back towards the window, but Potter seemed to take the attention she'd given him as an invitation as always and go over to her side like he was hoping to somehow continue the conversation.

She responded by walking away from him, back around the mirror just to prove her point, seemed unable to stop herself from glancing at it on her pass, and Regulus watched that same expression of awe now appear for a fourth time. She even pressed her hand to it, her face mere inches away in seconds as if hoping to fall right through to it.

"What is it? What do you see?" Alice asked her quietly. She'd finally come over herself, though curiosity was clearly still warring with nerves as she stayed on the edge to ask this, neither of them even seeming to realize Regulus was still behind them.

"I, ah, a dream, I suppose," she murmured.

"Can I try?" Smith's decision was now clearly made up, stepping forward all the way, though her face at once still uncertain if she truly wanted Evans to step aside.

At first her hand tensed along the glass, her reflection showed a fierce look of protection like she was contemplating shoving the other girl away before allowing any such thing, her eyes had yet moved from the image, when she startled in surprise at a book screaming at Harry.

This didn't faze the Marauders, who'd had the unfortunate problem of discovering this on their own when trying to get a particular Transfiguration book out of there without permission. Regulus had been around to see them being told off, but had never bothered to ask why they wanted it, but their collective amusement seeing the reaction of the others actually managed to make them all smile for a moment.

When Evans turned back to face Alice as the shock wore off, she relented and stepped away at once, though certainly still entranced as her steps were still tentative at best.

For quite a few moments Smith just blinked, like her vision was having trouble focusing though that made no sense as everyone else seemed to gaze upon it clear as day. Slowly though she started to smile, a warm look Regulus had certainly never seen on her. Then she whirled on the spot and desperately waved Frank over to her just as Harry found this himself.

Regulus was so distracted from Harry seeing his parents in the mirror as well he didn't even register what Longbottom's reaction to the same object was. Potter and Evans were actually looking at each other with the same expression of shock and sympathy, Sirius was reading in a tone unlike any Regulus had ever heard, empathy.

The idea had been pieced together rather quickly in Regulus' mind by now, this mirror showed something they all wanted. The idea that all this little Potter kid wanted was a family truly felt wrenching, and for the first time made him feel a bit selfish for his own. He did understand it though, wasn't that exactly what he'd seen in another light? His family to love him.

Sirius seemed to be having difficulties reading this bit, the idea of saying the words his best mate only existing in a mirror couldn't be a happy one Regulus realized. It seemed to relieve something in him when Harry had no choice but to take off.

It didn't seem to be going easier the second time with Ron around, even hearing what he saw wasn't exactly thrilling since many could have called that from what he'd said on the train, though the two boys scuffling over it was just a bit amusing.

Finally though when Harry came back for a third time Sirius' curiosity won out, and not wanting to be forced to read that again he sauntered over and kindly shoved Longbottom out of the way. He looked properly outraged, but Sirius' expression was enough to stop him retaliating, he looked baffled. He looked from the mirror, back to where his three friends were watching him curiously still over by the desk, and back again before chuckling and going back over and trying to keep going like nothing had happened.

"Oh come on," Potter began wheedling at once, not letting Sirius go on until he at least tried, "you not going to share what you saw?"

"You didn't," Sirius reminded with a challenging little smirk.

"Me and Evans with this little Harry," he said at once without a trace of bashment, throwing her yet another look they'd all seen countless times.

Evans flushed and just glared back at him before resolutely turning back away. He sighed, but the hopeful gleam in his eyes only grew stronger for once, as if this object had only confirmed what he'd always known.

"You guys," Sirius answered with a shrug possibly to get his friend's attention back, or just to answer him anyways. "Guess I'm already living out my want."

His friends just gave carefree laughs, looking the picture of innocence in that moment, and Regulus couldn't help but scoff at such a waste as this, finally turning away and gazing at his own image again, something clearly none of these others could even comprehend, an actual future.

Dumbledore's entrance was admittedly the greatest surprise yet, even more so than the mirror itself as instead of Harry getting in trouble for this he instead was given a lesson over the object. 'Deepest desire of their hearts,' Regulus couldn't help but let the words spin in his mind, even as his heart squeezed again almost painfully. He'd give anything for this reflection to come true, how was it fair his own brothers already was.

As Sirius reached closer to the end, he stopped whatever it was Dumbledore was saying about socks or some nonsense to start pushing his last friend over.

"Sirius, what if I don't want-" Lupin tried to protest.

"Oh go on, everyone else did," Potter waved eagerly for him to keep walking before giving a pouting look at his last friend, "even if others won't share."

"I said I would later," Pettigrew huffed, crossing his arms and not meeting anyone's eyes now.

Lupin tried protesting one more time, but Sirius had already positioned him in the center. The boy cringed and tried to take only a peek before darting right back away, but like so many others, he froze and instead seemed mesmerized when he locked on. His expression became curious, he studied what none could see and then glanced sideways at Sirius again.

"Thanks," the gratitude was hardly more than a whisper, but the sincerity flooded the room.

Sirius just smirked, clearly pleased with himself even if he just as clearly wasn't sure what he was being thanked for. He waited expectantly, but when Lupin's eyes just darted around the room and he instead stuffed his hands deep into his pockets without saying anything else, Sirius took the hint.

Instead, just before he finished, Sirius turned curious eyes on him and asked, "what about you? Going to share what you saw?"

Regulus raised a challenging brow, but held no shame as he lightly interpreted, "my parents, actually having a child to be proud of."

Sirius' lip curled at once, but his expression turned almost pitying. "Careful what you wish for Reg," he muttered before turning back to the book and finishing with Harry crawling back to bed, somewhere they all honestly wished they could be at this point.

Let me know of the ones you saw, too predictable? I'd love to hear some guesses from you guys for the ones who didn't share. I won't tell you what they are, but it'll be fun to see you guess now!

[arofili]

Ok I haven't read LACE and I have to ask - what does it say about half-cousin relationships?

[re: something I mentioned at the end of this post in the context of -- what else? -- Russingon]

I first came across this technicality in this essay about elf sex. That author draws this conclusion:

Notes in Morgoth’s Ring imply that, if you were first cousins but your uncle was your father’s half-brother, this abrogated the incest taboo enough that marriage was an option.

For awhile I took that as canon, but recently I went digging into Morgoth’s Ring to see what it had to say for itself, and if that implication was actually true. So here’s what LaCE really has to say about cousin marriages:

The relevant part, transcribed, reads as follows [emphasis mine]:

For the marriages of the Eldar do not take place between ‘close kin’. This again is a matter in which they needed no law or instruction, but acted by nature, though they gave reasons for it later, declaring that it was due to the nature of bodies and the processes of generation; but also to the nature of fëar. ‘For,’ they said, ‘fëar are also akin, and the motions of love between them, as say between a brother and sister, are not of the same kind as those that make the beginning of marriage.’ By ‘close kin’ for this purpose was meant members of one ‘house’, especially sisters and brothers. None of the Eldar married those in direct line of descent, nor children of the same parents, nor the sister or brother of either of their parents; nor did they wed ‘half-sisters’ or ‘half-brother’. Since as has been shown only in the rarest events did the Eldar have second spouses, half-sister or half-brother had for them a special meaning: they used these terms when both of the parents of one child were related to both of the parents of another, as when two brothers married two sisters of another family, or a sister and a brother of one house married a brother and sister of another: things which often occurred. Otherwise ‘first cousins’, as we should say, might marry, but seldom did so, or desired to do so, unless one of the parents each were far-sundered in kin.

SO this is from Draft A of LACE, and is an in-canon note on the in-canon text (i.e., not a note made by JRRT or Chrissy T, but by some loremaster who was most likely not even an elf). It’s at the very beginning of where Draft A diverges from Draft B, which means Tolkien revised everything that came before BUT did not revise this bit. So: take it with a grain of salt, and of course feel free to disregard it entirely!

It’s really interesting to me here is that since Finwë is pretty much the only elf of note to marry twice, their concept of half-siblings is very different from ours, and that kind of cousin incest is definitely a no-go. But this quote isn’t really about siblings with different mothers; it’s about cousins.

BUT first cousins “might marry” if they’re not considered half-siblings! This doesn’t usually happen, but it’s possible - it might be the kind of thing done primarily for political reasons (like uniting the lines of Indis and Míriel, perhaps?)

The qualification of “unless one of the parents each were far-sundered in kin” is curious also. Would this count for Nerdanel and Anairë’s children if they were both Noldor? (We don’t know anything about Anairë’s origins; I’ve seen fics where she’s a Vanya, though personally I see her as a Noldo.) What if Anairë was a Noldorin noble, but Nerdanel was a common smith? -- they would both be of the same “people” but from different ranks and probably not related to each other. Would Fingon and Maedhros therefore be “far-sundered in kin”? Does the fact that they’re part of that weird exception where even their fathers aren’t wholly related play into it?

With this technicality, I think a case could be made for the Nolofinwëans and Arafinwëans being able to marry, should they wish: even though they are first cousins (and their fathers are full brothers), Eärwen is a Teler and Anairë probably isn’t. That would be “far-sundered,” right?

And if that’s true... then Maeglin and Idril being first cousins wouldn’t really matter, either. Maeglin is half Noldo & Vanya from Aredhel’s side of the family and half either Sinda or Avar from Eöl’s side of the family, depending on your headcanons. The Sindar are definitely “far-sundered” from the Noldor and the Vanyar (they’re sundered from the Falmari, too, just not as far), and if you see Eöl as Avarin, that’s even further.

But in the published Silm, there’s this quote [emphasis mine]:

The Eldar wedded not with kin so near, nor ever before had any desired to do so. And however that might be, Idril loved Maeglin not at all; and knowing his thought of her she loved him the less.

Here this “far-sundered in kin” rule doesn’t apply. By any definition, even if Turgon and Aredhel are siblings, their respective spouses (Elenwë of the Vanyar and Eöl the Dark Elf, whatever you take that to mean) are about as far-sundered as you can get, and still the connection between Turgon and Aredhel is too much.

Maybe this is something Tolkien changed his mind on between writing LaCE and writing this section of what became the published Silm. Or maybe this is an in-universe distinction: the in-universe writer of LaCE is unclear but implied to be a human, not an elf, possible Aelfwine; the writer of the Silm as we see it is Christopher Tolkien’s edits of JRRT’s translation of Bilbo’s translation of Noldorin loremasters, the chief of whom was Pengolodh. It’s complicated.

So it seems that this note may suffer from being part of Draft A of LaCE, i.e. an unrevised section of an esoteric in-universe text that Tolkien probably never really thought would see the light of day. (Plus, he probably didn’t think a bunch of shippers in the year of our lord 2020 would be pouring over his notes this intensely to justify our gay cousin ship.)

Really this asks more questions than it answers. Without any examples for us to fall back on, what does “far-sundered in kin” really mean? Why would Maeglin and Idril not fit into that category? Would Fingon and Maedhros fit into it on account of their mothers, even if both their mothers were Noldor? How does their fathers being half-siblings impact it? Does the fact that Míriel was a Noldo and Indis a Vanya make a difference? And I honestly have no idea what Tolkien thought of same-gender relationships; that’s a whole different topic.

So what does LaCE say about half-cousin relationships? Nothing, really. And what it does say is contradicted elsewhere, and unclear on who in-universe wrote it, and when it comes down to it these are laws and customs not universal truths about elvish biology -- something which I think we as a fandom tend to forget. Mannish prejudices inevitably bleed into our tales of the elves, and really there is no one right way to see this.

This meta is already way longer than I anticipated (and it comes as a fitting sequel to the LaCE meta I wrote last year around this time) so I’m going to end here - but the TL;DR version of it is “LaCE implies that cousins can get married if the non-sibling parents aren’t closely related” and complicating that with the half-cousins situation means that Russingon was probably fine re: the incest taboo - if you take LaCE as canon.

For myself: this does make me feel better about shipping Maedhros and Fingon (and also about shipping Finrod and Turgon!), but even if this technicality didn’t exist I would still encourage everyone to ship what you wanna ship and be nice to each other!

[kabhi-haath-pakad-k-tu-mera]

We Can (Un)Do It

In which there is a marriage law which needs to be undone. Drinny, post-war.

It’s not hard, for anyone, to note that the war has drained Draco Malfoy. Drained him of the pride he had once had, drained his family of the prestige they had once held. Drained a young boy of the youth he had had. 

Even so, to Ginevra Weasley, it’s painfully obvious. She knows what he was like before the war—who he truly was. She had loved that person, held him, seen him. She had seen him struggle through the war too, pretending to be a Death Eater for the sake of his mother’s life when in reality he was, like anyone else, just another student caught in the crossfire. She knew, better than anyone, how much bravery it had taken for him to change sides in the battle, to go against Voldemort despite his fear for his mother’s life. But he had done it. And he had done a lot more. He had nursed students back to health, rescued them from the preying Carrow twins and from the ruthless prefects. 

In her eyes, he is as much a hero as anyone else. If he had had a real choice, she knows he would have chosen to fight with them. He was just a victim of circumstances, like so many people around them. But that doesn't stop people from treating him and other Slytherins like shit. Cursing them when they are off-guard, flooding their dormitory, calling them slurs. It makes Ginny’s blood boil. But Draco doesn't do anything about it, just bears it all with a blank face, never wavering. 

Never wavering except when he catches her looking at him at breakfast in the Great Hall, asking him silently about the bruise on his chin; except when she leaves the Gryffindor table to go eat with him; except when she glares down everyone who as much as looks at him wrong. Then his face has the slightest flicker of emotion—something warm akin to a smile. She knows he dislikes her defending him, but she also knows that if she doesn't, she will one day wake up to the news of his death.   

___________________

That morning he enters the Great Hall looking particularly pale—pronounced bags under his eyes, and a particularly nastly looking gash on his cheek. It looks raw and recent—although no blood is flowing from it—as if it has been treated, but couldn't be glamoured. They love giving him scars that can't be hidden, that take a long time to heal. It makes her sick. 

“Oh, I bet he loves that, another tattoo to go with his mark,” someone down the Gryffindor table snickers, and a bunch of fourth and fifth years burst into laughter. 

Ginny cannot quite make out who it is that had said it, but she stiffens quite suddenly, gripping her fork tightly in one hand, the other reflexively reaching for her wand. Neville catches her eye from across her, looking just as livid as she feels. Luna nudges her foot from beside her however, a warning—she has already been in far too many altercations this year, and it’s only the end of September. 

She gets up suddenly enough that a bunch of people look in her direction and quieten down, but a lot of them keep going until Hermione—Head Girl, of course—screams at them, red hot anger pouring into her voice, “Detention, Smith. For the rest of the year. Move. It.”

Ginny ignores the looks she gets as she steps away from the Gryffindor table to go to the Slytherin table—curious glances, subtle smirks, gaping mouths and contemptuous glares. The table is a lot quieter than the others, almost entirely silent except for the sound of cutlery. They make room around Draco when she approaches, almost out of reflex. They are used to her sitting between them now. Not entirely comfortable, no, but used to it. 

Her and Draco don't talk while he eats, but the question she wants to ask is mutually understood. It's also mutually known, although grudgingly, that he is not going to answer it. She asks it anyway once they have left the Great Hall.

“Who?”

“It doesn't matter.”

She stops walking for a moment, closing her eyes in exasperation. Draco stops a few steps ahead. 

“Draco ... ” she starts, then stops, sighing. She walks up to him instead, taking his hand in her own and nearly dragging him into an empty classroom. She dimly notes that it's the out-of-use Transfiguration classroom on the third floor. 

She leans against the door once she’s closed it, looking at Draco who is leaning on a desk, a finger gently feeling about the scar. She moves towards him slowly, stopping once she is standing inches away from him and he is looking right at her, eyes soft. He leans his head towards her as she reaches up to inspect the wound, red and angry and hot, stretching from the middle of his left cheek down to his jawline.

“You should go see Madame Pomphrey instead of patching them up yourself,” she says, voice quiet. “She’s always helped students.”

Draco hums but doesn't reply. Ginny takes her hand away from his face and instead takes his own, thumb brushing gently over it, and he finally heaves a soft sigh and relaxes, his stiff demeanour ebbing. Neither move or speak for a few moments before he says, “You need to stop sitting at the Slytherin table.”

Ginny closes her eyes for a moment, bracing herself for the argument to follow. The one they have been having ever since school had restarted, ever since she had declared that she wasn't going to hide what they were anymore, not from Hogwarts, not from her family, not from the world. It’s almost a ritual at this point.

“No,” she says, opening her eyes. “No, I don't. It’s them. They need to start treating people like people.”

“Gin ...” he sighs, freeing his hand and rubbing his face, mindful of his injury. “You can't put yourself in the line of fire like this. I can't let you.”

“And I can't let you be walked over by everyone. Especially since you refuse to do anything about it.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, exasperation written on his face, “it’s got a political aspect now, you don't understand! The Wizarding World of Britain is watching all your moves. You can't be seen fraternizing with the enemy. Nor can Granger and Longbottom and Lovegood. All of you need to stop.”

“You are not the enemy, Draco. You were with us all along. And the other Slytherins … Daphne and Millicent and Terence … they didn't have a choice either. They had nowhere to go. They were students like anyone else." She purses her lips. "It's hypocritical to not treat the Slytherin students like the other students, who were just trying to get by the war like any other from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw or Gryffindor." 

Draco scoffs lightly, looking down at his hands. "Slytherins have never been treated the way the others have. And we liked it too, until the war. It's been a given for too long that Slytherins are different, and we've never tried to change it. We made our bed," he lifts his head to look at her, and finds that her honey-brown eyes are glowing in the filtered light coming from the windows. "Now we have to lie in it."

Ginny shakes her head as chatter and footsteps rise in the corridor outside the classroom. Draco lifts his hand to check the time. “The first class is about to start,” he says, “we should get going. It’ll take a while to get down to the Dungeons.”

___________________

They are grouped in four to a table for the double potions class. Professor Slughorn is mindful enough of his students’ plight that he only ever groups the Slytherin students together. It's even better that there are only four of them.  

Ginny herself is with Hermione, Jones, and Smith—a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor from her year. She glares at Smith as he takes his seat at the table, perfectly aware of how Hermione is also giving him a seething look and how Jones looks acutely uncomfortable being caught between them. Smith ignores them the best of his ability as they set about making their Amortentia. 

It's only when she whiffs the familiar smell of parchment and cologne from her cauldron that she is convinced that her potion is complete. Suddenly the entire classroom smells like Draco, even though he is at the opposite end of the class. She smiles when he looks up at her, as if they were sharing a secret. She only looks away when Hermione nudges her foot, mirth in her eyes, and motions towards professor Slughorn, who is standing before her equally amused. Someone beside her scoffs but she ignores it.

When they are packing up after the class, she hears the scoff again, followed by a blur of brown hair coming within her line of sight. 

“You would do well to stay away from Death Eaters and Slytherins, Ginny,” Smith says seriously even as she ignores him. “You can't be fraternizing with the dark side. You never know when they might turn on you.” She finally turns around and glares, but Smith remains unfazed, continuing in a somewhat mysterious tone, “besides, things are changing. You don't know what might happen.”

She doesn't stop glaring until he has left the class, and it's only her and Hermione left, Draco having left for his Ancient Runes class. 

“Don't pay him mind Ginny,” Hermione says to her as she gathers the rest of Ginny’s parchment and puts them in her bag. “He’s an idiot.” She looks at the empty doorway. “An entitled idiot.”

___________________

“I talked to Percy today,” Hermione says as she settles in her bed, curtains drawn open so that Ginny can see her with her book in her lap. She has her own room, being Head Girl, but she prefers being with other people around.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I wanted to know about the workings of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and he mentioned something that I found a bit … worrying?”

Ginny turns away from the mirror and looks at her inquiringly. “It’s about a law,” Hermione continues quietly, “a law about marriage.” 

“About marriage?” Ginny frowns, as a quiet node of worry grows in her belly. She has heard about those before. The last one had been imposed right after the first Wizarding War, to repopulate the Wizarding World. Her mum used to talk about how arbitrary it was, and how glad she was she had married Dad before the law had come out. 

Hermione nods. “Percy said they have been developing the law for a while now. Their official reasoning is to “Keep the Wizarding World alive and to end the House disparities, seeing the attacks on people from pureblood families.” She grimaces. “He told me to warn others about it,” she pauses, then sighs deeply. “The Ministry is going to be making the  matches this time. Anyone who doesn't follow might be persecuted.”  

Ginny drops the hairbrush she had been holding, sinking into her bed. Ministry matches. End disparities. Persecution. Fuck. She turns to Hermione slowly, breathing heavily through her mouth. 

“Oh, Ginny,” Hemione sighs softly, making her way over to her, “I’m so sorry. I know you and Draco …” Ginny belatedly realizes that she is trembling. Hermione wraps her arms around her. 

___________________

Ginny doesn't sleep that night. This isn't unusual—sleeplessness is an old friend—but the thought of the Marriage law sends her deeper and deeper into angst. She could be married to anyone. Anyone. That person had a very high chance of not being Draco. She doesn't think she could bear it—not after everything they've been through together, not after how he was her last link to sanity throughout last year. It takes all she has to stifle her almost-sobs. It hurts. Her head hurts from trying not to cry.

She hadn't thought she would get married so young. She had hoped to wait it out until she was in her late-twenties, until she had a stable life, a stable career. She had, at the very least, hoped to have the choice. To have a say in it. But the Ministry wants children. She doesn't want children—not so soon. She’s a child herself!

It's finally around three in the morning that she decides to get out of bed. She doesn't know where she is going, really, but she wants—needs—to move about. To do something. It's about quarter of an hour later that hse finds herself in the library, perusing bookshelves on Magical Laws. Creature Laws; Criminal Laws; Civil Laws; Marriage Laws. Her hand trembles as she pulls the books out from the shelf, sets them down on the floor, and sits down beside them herself.

“Lumos.”

___________________

“Ginny, where have you been?” Hermione calls out to her from where she is seated on the Gryffindor table, Luna beside her. Ginny sits down across from her, pouring herself milk as she looks at her friends curiously. There is a strange sort of worry on their face. Belatedly she notes the copy of Daily Prophet lying on the table, front page up, showing the face of a ministry employee, and a loud headline below it. The hall is unusually abuzz. She had thought it would be a few days before it comes out, maybe give her more time to research … but now … 

"It's here," Hermione says to her, but Ginny isn't listening. She is looking instead towards the table at the far end of the hall, at the boy with pale skin and blonde hair who is looking back at her with the same look of worry that is being reflected across the student body.

“We’ll get the letters anytime now,” Luna says, and it startles Ginny to hear the worry in it. It’s too soon, too much. Far too much for her to take. She gets up and all but runs outside, Hermione’s call ringing after her. 

She winds up on the banks of the lake, in a rocky part shielded from direct view. She needs to think. Her head is hurting again. She needs to get away from all of this, from everything. Maybe this is a nightmare. She just needs to wake up. Wake up! 

“Hey,” a voice calls from behind her, soft and hoarse, and she doesn't have to turn around to know that it's Draco. She doesn't respond—her voice is too heavy. 

He grimaces and sits beside her, hand reaching out and taking hers. He looks at her with an uncertain expression as she wipes her face with her other hand. She doesn't know what to say, and she doesn't think he does either. He removes a copy of the prophet from his robes, setting it on the ground before her. She looks away.

“I don't want to read it,”  she says.

“They are going to send the matches. We have until the end of the year to get married, until we turn nineteen to conceive.” 

Ginny bites her lip, breathing in deeply. She swallows. “I know. Hermione told me.”

She looks away from him, staring instead at the clear blue waters of the lake and the errant fishes swimming through it. It's a nice day—clear, calm, sunny—everything opposite to what she feels. Draco’s thumb rubs abstract notings against her hand, and their fingers are entwined. They fit perfectly against one another. They are perfect for one another. But they want to take away this too—take away love. The thought finally breaks her resolve, tears falling from her eyes hot and fast, and she is sobbing.

“Oh, Gin,” Draco mumbles against the top of her head as he draws her towards him, and she cries out her frustration while he rubs familiar patterns on her back.

___________________

It's during lunch that the letters arrive, in a flurry of hundreds of owls swooping before years fifth to eighth. 

Ginny is not at lunch, nor is Draco. They haven't strayed from their spot for the past few hours, although it feels to Ginny like a lifetime. She tenses up as she sees the parliament enter the great hall, eyes focusing on the two that are flying right towards them. Draco tightens his hold on her, not that he needs to—her nails are digging into his palms. 

The two owls swoop before them with a flourish, hooting softly at them. When the two receivers don't move to take their letters, one of them pecks at Ginny's hand indignantly. Draco reaches out with a trembling hand to undo the strings and retrieve the envelopes with the ministry seal on it, although neither try to open them.

The owls fly away, in a flurry of brown feathers, still hooting, as the two teenagers look at the desolate envelopes lying on the ground. It would be easy to burn them, Ginny thinks. Easy to burn them to ashes and never find out. Maybe they should just run away. Away from everything where they can have peace and quiet and each other. The envelopes, however, open by themselves when a few minutes have passed, and their contents fly neatly to the respective receivers hovering near them until they are literally in their face. 

"Let's just get it done with," Draco says, "get it done with so that we can accept our sentence."

Ginny takes the letter with a sigh.

' … will need to marry by the end of the year 1999 …'

'... must conceive by the year 2000 …'

'... Failure to comply will result in snapping of wand …'

'... ministry has decided that you are to partner with Seamus Finnigan, half-blood, Gryffindor, year eight.'

She stares at the letter for a moment, then two, then three, before she whips out her wand and sets it on fire.

Seamus. Seamus Finnigan. She doesn't know if she should laugh or cry. She can only imagine his plight. Poor boy.

Draco's letter has drifted to the ground and he is staring at it without actually looking. 

"Seamus Finnigan," Ginny says carefully, and Draco lifts his head to look at her. He hesitates a moment before he says, "Luna Lovegood."

Ginny shuts her eyes for a moment, then lets out a mirthless laugh. 

"This is a joke," she says finally, "a joke. Both of them are gay! Luna could never … poor Seamus. He and Dean are in love and the Ministry had to come along and ruin it. Ruin it all."

She doesn't notice the tears that have begun rolling down her face again until Draco wipes them off. 

"We …" he starts, then stops. "There has to be something we can do … some way we can stop this. It makes no sense! There must be a contradictory law or—" 

"There isn't." 

Draco stops mid-sentence, looking at her with eyebrows raised. 

"I looked through the books in the library; I tried summoning more books; I asked Hermione, there's nothing anywhere." She looks up at him. "There's nothing we can do." 

She looks away again, drawing away from Draco as she gets up. "We'll have to submit to our sentence, like you said." 

"Gin." He looks up at her in alarm, eyes wide, tone scared.

She bites her lip to stop more tears from coming. She needs to leave. Now. 

"Gin, no!" 

Draco's hand on her wrist prevents her from leaving, and deep down she is glad. She cannot lie to herself. She could never leave him this way. He turns her around so that she is facing him, a hand grasping her shoulder, the other cupping her face, and his eyes are shining. 

"We'll do something. There are more books on laws in my family library, and Hogwarts doesn't have too much on laws anyway. It must be based on some old laws … all laws have contradictions. And no one could possibly be happy about this." He takes a deep breath. "We can do this, Gin, just—" he swallows. " Just don't leave me." 

She closes her eyes, all but falling onto him. 

“I could never.” 

___________________

  The school seems to be moping at every turn that Ginny takes. Only rarely does she find a happy face. No one is happy. No one was prepared for this. Hermione looks up when she enters the dorm, and the two girls take a single moment to acknowledge the puffy eyes and tear tracks. 

Ginny sits at the edge of Hermione’s bed. “Seamus.” 

Hermione stares for a moment, then shakes her head. “Mclaggen.” she sighs. “I’ve been hiding from him.” she tries to laugh, but it comes out watery.  “I had wanted a career, you know. Not children at the age of nineteen. And not with Mclaggen. That damned Ministry—” she doesn't bother finishing the sentence—she doesn't have to. Everyone is thinking it. “I should just disappear to the Muggle world,” she sighs, “somewhere far away … Australia? Live in a small town. Work in a library. Sounds nice, doesn't it?” she turns to look at Ginny. 

She nods. It does.“I was with Draco,” Ginny says, picking on a loose thread in Hermione’s comforter. Hermione hums. “He said we can overthrow the law. There are always contradictory laws … and the ministry can't impose something like this on us if we are all against it anyway …”

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Draco is having his mum send some books from their family library. We need your help, drafting a contradiction, a petition. If it comes to it, a rebellion.”

“Any action against the law can result in Azkaban, Ginny.”

Ginny scoffs. “The life they are imposing on us is no less than Azkaban either. And anyway,” she looks up, “we are war heroes. They can't go against us.”

Hermione looks into Ginny’s flashing eyes. Slowly, her lips curl up in a smirk.

___________________

    The Ministry’s Wizarding Marriage (Amendment) Act 1998 Scrapped,                                            Wizarding World rejoices.  

                                        - by Jeremy Fuller

The Ministry on wednesday announced the scrapping of the Marriage Law enacted last month. This move came up as a result of the efforts of War heroes Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, and Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley opposing the law. Draco Malfoy had presented the contradicting bill from his seat in Wizengamot which was backed up by big powers of the Ministry. The law had been very unpopular with the majority of the populace, and had resulted in many disagreements between the ministry and the people. it's believed that the Minister had been threatened with an uprising by the Chosen One—Harry Potter—himself. 

The Law was criticized by many intellectuals and members of the Wizengamot as insensitive, sexist, and homophobic. Healers from St. Mungo’s had criticized it as an added burden to a barely recovering society. “It would have hurt the people already suffering from the effects of the war even more (for the full interview with Healer Grahams, turn to page 8).

The Wizarding World is celebrating  the scrapping of the law in the Diagon Alley. The students of Hogwarts are also reported to be very happy (for full article, turn to page 4). 

[fruitpunchninja101]

Slow Dancing In The Dark

Characters: Hanji Zoe x Levi Ackerman

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Rating: T

Here’s part 1 of my gift for  LeviHan Eggscghange 2020 :) I hope my dear giftee enjoys this.Part 2 will be out in a couple of days!

You can also read this on AO3

 @levihanweek

Working for Sina Industries has always been a life long dream for Hange.As a wide eyed child,she would always watch live broadcasts of their space launches and tell herself one day shes gonna be there.Standing in mission control smiling as she watched one of her creations get sent to a different planet.Armed with a degree & a determined heart,she applied as an engineer.You could imagine her disappointment when she was crammed into an 8x12 cubicle in the basement to design and develop circuitry which their boss greedily takes credit for all the damned time.She's pretty good at keeping a front that shes a pretty chill with all her bosses bullshit but she finally lost it when he started harassing a temp.Hange bravely spoke out and got into a heated argument with her boss.She got supended for a week after that.

It took almost six months before she was promoted to another 8x12 cubicle.Only this time,shes moving up on the infamous 17th floor.The place where they flung all the adept yet problematic employees.Its pretty much the same,shitty boss,intricate work but now on a higher pay grade and a lot more hearsay about her reputation.Its not so bad though,despite the lack of recognition and grueling work hours she met a handful of wonderful coworkers who shared the same pain.

Mike and Nanaba were sort of the required stable couple of the group.She met them a month after the big promotion when she caught them making out in the copy room.She's probably standing there for an entire minute awkwardly making fake cough noises to alert them of her presence.Enter Erwin Smith,he casually strode up by the couple and grabbed the box of printer ink Hange desperately needed.He's like freaking Captian America & Superman combined except he has a mind of a slytherin.Not that it was a bad thing.

And then there's Levi,The crabbiest member of their little group,Mr.I-look-very-angry-and-irritated-all-the-time-but-inside-lies-a-total-softy.He’s a clean freak who befittingly,is a sanitary engineer.Rumors say that Levi had tendencies with violence and had to be sent at 17th floor for precaution.There used to be a time when they didn't get along.She'd been very welcoming towards him but hes always been aloof and cold.She didn't mind it at first,but after a while it kinda got into her nerves.Til that christmas party back in 2017,where she had a few drinks and sort of confessed that she liked him and it really bummed her out that he didn't feel the same way.For the first time,she saw something other than disinterest and irritation on his face...she saw confusion.He asked her what shes on about,then reminded her that he just made her chocolates for valentines day when she won't shut up about craving something sweet.He doesn't do that kind of shit just for anyone and after that,hange was pretty sure they've become best friends.

Their friendship was forged in companionship in misery but as time passed they became her second family.

One of the things that Hange looked forward to is hanging out with them every Friday night at a dive bar a few blocks away from their office where they get shit faced and let off some steam from their work.Hange was preoccupied with the jukebox when Mike arrived with his arm slung over Levi dragging the smaller man into her space.”You'll never guess what happened.”The man announced and before she could answer the man screamed."Someone got asked for a date!"

"Ohoho!Whos the lucky girl?"Nanaba came out of nowhere carrying two mai tais and handed one to Hange before heading over at Mike's side.

"Petra Ral."Erwin chimed cooly while sipping a glass of scotch.His blond hair still laid perfectly even after a long tiring day at work.

"From PR?Holy shit!Good job!"Hange said slapping Levi’s shoulder hurting her hand in the process.The man didn’t even falter from where he stood,all he did was stare straight at her before scowling."It's not a big deal.”He said settling his gaze on his side.

Hange smiled.

He’s shy.Levi Ackerman is actually being shy about getting asked out by an adorable strawberry blonde colleague.Isn’t that precious?She’d never seen him like that before.Heaven knows how much she wanted to tease him about his situation but she can clearly tell by the way he clenched his jaw and the deep creases on the space between his brows that if she says anything,he'd run straight to the wall to escape,cartoon style.

Mike started telling the story and Levi sneakily started edging towards the exit.Before the questions came flooding in,Levi was already gone.

“I think I should follow him.“Hange announced.

"Try to convince him to go out with Ral!"Mike shouted which prompted Erwin to take his drink away from him."I think you had enough."

"Goodluck!"Nanaba raised her drink at her.Before helping Erwin keep Mike's drink away from him.

#

Hange found Levi brooding on the sidewalk while smoking.”Can I get a light?”She asked.

“Its cold.”He said,which also translates to she should go back inside or she’ll catch a cold.Levi’s nice like that,it took everything in her to hold back and not make a snide comment.He alwas hated it when he gets called out for being considerate.

“So Petra Ral huh?”She started.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“We don’t have to,If you don’t want to.”Hange calmly took a box of cigarettes from her pocket and stood a bit closer to him.

“Good.”He said before tossing her his lighter.

Hange bit her lower lip to stifle a smile and Levi was already armed with his grumpy face.He's getting a little agitated.She let the silence drag on for a while as she started to giddily shift from where she stood.Unable to contain her curiosity.

“But its Petra Ral...The Petra Ral!Our company sweetheart.”She exploded.

“I barely know her.”

"Isn’t that what dating is for?!Besides,She probably just needs to get dicked down."Hange said casually."Go for it!Have a little fun.What’s there to lose?"

"Yeah well...I don't think I could."Levi started bouncing his leg.Is he nervous?Agitated?Both?It seemed like he's trying to say something.

“Levi,you know we wont judge you if you’re gay right?You don’t have to hide it from us.”

“Why would I be hiding that if I was?”

“Then what are you nervous for?"

“I’m not nervous...I.."Levi paused as if he's considering if he should tell her."I haven’t...I...”

“You're acting like you've never been out on a date."she said.

Levi visibly stiffened and averted her curious eyes.From where she sat,she could see how levi clenched his jaw and feel him hold his breath.No?It cant be...

"Oh.Its been a while for you huh?like 6 months?"She tried to take a wild stab but was met with silence.Hange sobered."You’ve never been on a date before?"she repeated a little louder than she meant to and not soon after she found Levi's hand over her mouth.

“You wanna scream that a little louder?“

“EVER?!”She peeled his hand off her face and asked.

“Tch.I dont need this.“Levi rolled his eyes and started leaving but hange caught his arm.

"Hey!I'm sorry.I didn't know.Its nothing to be embarrassed about.Its just,its a little uncommon you know.I'm really sorry.I didn't mean to be a dick.”

She assumed that its not because of the lack of people who wanna date with him.Believe it or not,this whole quiet mysterious guy persona is a total chick magnet.She even had several people from the office ask about him every once in a while.So what happened?Is it trauma?Is he aromantic?Holy shit!How could she be so insensitive?

“Stop looking at me like that.”He frowned.Snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Sorry,I was just thinking...”

“Don’t think of anything.Just mind your own business and let me be.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I let you be?”

“A good one.And stop drawing conclusions!I can practically see the thoughts up your head.I'm not anything I just...dont know how.”

“why are you so intent on giving up?!I thought you like her!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh please Ackerman!How can you not?She's the perfect mix of adorable,kind,fiesty and beautiful...she’s perfect for you!”

"What do you want me to do?"he asked,in his how can I make you shut up tone.

"What if I help you?You could...I dont know...practice with me?I could help you with the whole dating thing!"Levi looked at her as if she grew another head.Honestly shes just happy he didn't look disgusted with her proposal.He gave her a once over before pinching the bridge of his nose.She knows this maneuver.Its the what-have-i-gotten-my-self-into or holy-shit-am-I-actually-considering-this move.“Are you sure about this?”He asked.

Hange made a gesture of crossing over her heart and raising her right hand up and levi scrunched his brows together.

“Quit downplaying this.I’m serious.”

“I wont offer it if my not 100% I’m serious. The last guy I went out with was a total disappointment and Petra deserves better than that.You know she helped me last Christmas...”

“Yeah,yeah she helped you change your tire."He supplied,refraning hange from tellong the story again.

“And in exchange I'm gonna help you be more fun and well rounded for your date!It's the circle of life!”Hange enthusiastically smiled.

“Alright.How do we start?”Levi asked.

"Ask Petra to reschedule your date for next week,Then we can take the whole week to practice."

#

The harsh sun bore down on Levi as if reminding him never to indulge Hange with her antics again.Aparrently,she found Petra's online journal and identified that she had two dream dates.One is a carnival date (which explains why he is standing in line for cotton candy out in the middle of the goddamn afternoon.) and the other was spending an evening at a local jazz bar in the city.

Levi doesn't know how she successfully lured him out.You see,he liked his comfort zone and for some unknown reason Hange always challenged him to take a step out of the little box he created around him.And although there are times when she proved that taking a risk was worth it,Levi never really appreciated getting stuck in very shitty situations like now.He doesn't know how she seemed fine with all these shitty conditions.Maybe because she's been busy talking about her new droid remodel.

"Hey Levi are you listening to me?"

"Yes."He said exasperated.

"What was I saying then?"She folded her arms and raised her brows,challenging him.

"You're planning to replace fiberglass with aerogel as insulator on your next shitty droid."He said which earned a bright smile from her.Tch!He rolled his eyes at that and stepped forward after the couple infront of them was served with an unreasonable amount of cotton candy.

"I'll get the giant sunshine surprise."Hange said and the vendor then started shaping the cotton candy into a big daisy.Hange looks absolutely delighted.

"That will be 50 dollars."The vendor said offering his open palm to him which prompted him to turn towards Hange."Oh!let me get my wallet!"Hange started going though her bag and for some reason he felt chills run through him.WheN he raised his head,he noticed that people around them started glaring at him.Oh great he forgot!He's in a fake date.He assumed people still think he's obligated to pay.Tch.So fucking primitive.Although he's never the guy who gave much fuck about what others think,he didnt want people to think Hanges being mistreated.Begrudgingly,he paid for the goddamn cotton candy.Hange took that opportunity to talk about how expenses should be handled during dates,she personally likes going dutch but immediately started going on about some studies that says women generally like it when the males carries out the expenses.

Hange's like a battery that never runs out of energy.She wanted to ride every possible attraction from the carnival!Beads of sweat are starting to form on her forehead but she never seem to notice,he started leading her to a park bench to rest for a bit.He appreciated how much she prepared.She was very keen on citing the psychology articles and some magazines she read to help him be better at dating.He doesn't even know why would anyone even exert that much effort for him.

She really is something.

He pulled out his handkerchief out of his pocket and started gently dabbing it on her forehead.

She smiled.

#

Hange didn't really need to teach him much.Despite the seemingly abrasive qualities Levi possess,the man is a very courteous guy.He said thank you,please and treated the park employees with respect.Shes pretty sure he wouldnt have much trouble impressing a girl."You never told me why you've never been out on a date."She started.

"I was never asked."Levi shrugged as if telling her its no big deal.Hange was shocked at his honesty but appreciated his straight answer.

"Based on my observations today I'd say all those girls that didnt ask you out missed out on a good time."

"Tch!Quit bullshitting me."

"It's true!You diligently listened to my stories, joined me riding all the  and most importantly,you bought me an unreasonably overprized cotton candy."

Levi let out a soft chuckle at that and Hange immediately panicked.This is the first time she ever made him chuckle and goddamn it was glorious.It's like his features lit up and made him look years younger.She had to bit her lower lip to sort of calm her wild heartbeat.They stayed seated on the bench for a while when Levi surprisingly asked her to walk around some more.As they started to amble along the park,an idea popped on her head.

#

Her hands gently crept on his wrist and made way to cup his hand "what the..."He glared at their joined hands,but didn't find the need to pull away."You're sticky."He remarked

"Does sticky hands really matter if youre holding hands with your crush?"She asked.He kept his eyes on her and he saw blush creep up to her face."I-I mean not me...I meant Petra...which is basically me because im her placeholder at the moment and..."

"Hange."

"Hm?"

"Shut up."He slipped his Fingers against the gaps of hers and continued wandering around the park.

[chaotic-good-natural-one]

Goraciar Eaxian, Dragonborn Cleric (He)

(Credit: Kyle Smith https://www.instagram.com/somecallmekyle/) I was again a dragon on my dream. Flying I traveled through the islands of the far sea, fought the monsters of the frozen lake, fed on the remnants of a colossal monster and flew so high that the world below looked no more than an illusion. I was a high lord of the sky, the land and the seas, beyond the petty struggles of mortals, rival to the gods themselves. But the mist came, as it always does, and its tendrils were inescapable, no matter how fast I moved. They caught me and brought me back, my crying echoing through the universe itself.

The ship moved stronger than normal. I could feel, even lying back on my bed, the strength of the wind and the rain: My type of weather. I got out of my room and saw big waves cradling my small ship, endless clouds and storms on the horizon. I had no fear but respected this display and bowed my head recognizing the all mighty gods and goddesses below. I casted a small prayer for Umberlee and promised her a small bounty on her name; she might have been curious as the seas suddenly grew calm. Or maybe she just wanted to see how far I would get on this quest of mine.

We dragonborn were borned from Brahma, the all-father. Created from the bodies of discarded dragons, given intelligence by him and all-mother, Tiamat. Bound to cross the earth. Bound to be excellent. Bound to live and die by our clan. But when your clan is also bound by dreams, the madness has a way to infect you. Madness becomes reality.

In our clan, Nemesis, we have always believed, from time immemorial, that we are memories. The faded colors of our scales, the power of our breath, the roughness of our skin, the intelligence of our eyes, all of them are no more than memories from others, those who lived fuller lives with the wing below their wings; we believe that our families all come from a single dragon, a mythical beast that protects us and grants us wisdom. This wisdom comes from dreams. Dreams where a selected few can see this world through the eyes of the dragon, feel their power, see their achievements and sometimes, have a glimpse of the future that might help the clan. That is how it has always been, how it will always be. My family, all of us dragonborns with different tones of blue, were not originally blessed with any dreams and therefore, we were unnamed outcasts, still part of the clan, but not allowed to take any decisions for ourselves. We were expected to obey the will of the many, led by Vastrae, the matriarch and ruler of our clan, a beautiful silver dragonborn with many of her colors still bright enough for us to see. But that all changed with my dreams.

The dream has always been the same, from the very first moment. I am a dragon, flying, my blue scales shining bright in the morning. I fight, I eat, I laugh and I sleep. But whenever I feel myself secure, a black mist comes, and follows me, trying to grab me, trying to take my essence. And then, the dreams always end. When I first had this dream, my brothers and sisters had no guidance on its significance, but glad that at least one of us had received the blessing, they led me to Vastrae. But far from being happy, and welcoming, Vastrae listened to the story with a mix of horror. This hasn’t happened in 50 years or more, she said, and this is never good. Your dragon, your blue dragon, is being hunted. And is up to you and your family to save her. All 4 of us, brothers and sisters, met at dawn outside town. Vastrae gave us all a talisman, so that we would always know how to come back home. And convey the significance of our quest. Because if a mist dares to hunt a dragoness, wouldn’t it hunt the rest? Wouldn’t the rest of our forefathers and foremothers be in danger? So we all left, each to a different path, all uncertain of what our quest would mean, where our dragoness was and what we could do to save such a mighty beast with our feeble powers. But our family and our clan was more important than our doubts and with a heartfelt goodbye, we all left. It has been 5 years since that day. Each of us found a calling in our travels, a special bond that we didn’t know existed but was there nevertheless. Hifras, my older brother, became a fighter, and his multiple swords have carved him a path of blood and reputation. We travelled towards the east, to the ice; Queltrina, my older sister, became a thief, her small size perfect for the cover of the night and constantly raided nobles and historians, in search for information of our dragon; and Raipora, my little sister, she became a prodigal sorcerer, commanding forces way beyond our comprehension, searching on her soul the source of our history in the huge cities of Baldur’s Gate and Neverwinter. And I, with my boat traveling the isles, ended up finding my calling in the Typhon, the unpredictable, the angry, the storm lord. 6 months after we departed from our clan, I found myself on the coast. I knew my brother and my sisters would travel in the continent and also knew it was up to me to travel the sea. But I also knew I lacked the skills required to command such a vessel in the uncertainty of the sea and therefore, found myself as the unlikely apprentice of an old couple of the sea, husband and wife both sailors at heart. Ike and Magda they were called. They didn’t even ask any questions, they didn’t stare at my scales. They simply appreciate the help that my strong body could give them and started with their lessons. Months had passed and we sailed everyday, for fishing and for treasures. The boat big enough for all 3, named Sea Miracle, would quickly travel through the strange sea of the west and together we stayed from dawn ‘till dusk fishing. But there was this day that the sea was particularly violent, and not even their prayers to Umberlee were heard. The sky was angry, a thunderstorm as I have never seen. Ike and Magda were brave and I had never seen them scared, except that one day; maybe they felt that the storm, more than nature, had a divinity on it and without a word, they both entered the small cabin, leaving me outside. I was in trance, the power of the thunder called me in a way nothing else could, and there was such a beauty there, in the rage, in the destruction, that I couldn’t resist. It was as if my dragoness was calling me in each of these flashes and without knowing what I was doing, I started a prayer. My prayer was born in pure devotion, a poem that came from my heart and my soul. Even with my eyes shut, I could feel the tension in the air, as each thunder came closer and closer to our boat, the sea still angry but expectant. I didn’t even notice when I started levitating but I did notice when the thunder hit me, with its full power, and the voice that came upon me at that moment.

Thunder is destruction. Is Chaos. Is Rebellions. Nature is all-mighty, Nature is uncontrollable. The sky is aflamed with fire and blood and wind and power. Not all have learned to see both its power and its beauty. I am TYPHON, god of Dragonborns, god of rage, of lightning. My power, either die or accept it, go forth as a cleric of the storms. Bring word of Typhon to the ignorant, convert your clan to me and show the world the fury hidden between the clouds.

At that moment, I accepted the power and the thunder hit me with so much force, as electricity travelled through my veins, filling them with a purpose I never knew I was missing. And with it, the thunderstorm disappeared and I fell into the boat, where I was cradled back to life by the couple, taken back to our home.

2 weeks I spent on the verge of death, with fever and delusions. But I also dreamt of my dragoness. I understood that Typhon had selected me as the plight of the dragon was his plight as well; the black mist that continued to pursue her was threatening more than I could ever understand and Typhon had seen in me an avatar to his rage and to his justice. So when I finally recovered, I knew what I had to do. The couple, Magda in particular, also knew the resolve in my eyes and that day we all three started building a new boat, just for me. When we were done, I hugged them both and thanked them, and was greeted with a beautiful boat with a freshly painted name on its bow. The name was perfect, I told Magda, the only name the boat might have. So we parted, me and “Blue Chaos”, to the unknown.

I have been sailing for a long time now, docking on islands for rations and gossip. I have battled creatures from the depths, with the powers given by Typhon; I fought a chimera on an island, protection a treasure and found a lance with the inscriptions of the thunder, which I knew was a gift from Typhon to me; I have battled and befriended pirates, and joined them in their ships, at nights of gambling and drinking; I have circled the same islands over and over again, always discovering something new, some new clue that I am still on the track of my dragoness, that she is still out there, looking for me and my sisters and brother. I don’t know how well my family has done it, how close they are to discover their own truth. Sometimes I will receive a magical message from them, informing me of their latest exploits and I will reply always the same. The dream is still there, our dragon as well. The gods have blessed us, but the hunt must continue.

The sea is calm, the night is beautiful. I can feel that same tension in the air, as a thunderstorm approaches. I will need a sacrifice for Typhon, I think, looking in the horizon for inspiration. A mile into the west, I see a battle between two ships, a slaver ship and a pirate; I have always hated slavers and I know Typhon does too. I invoke a little power to fill my sails with wind and I approach the ships, my lance in my hand, my shield in the other, a spell already on my lips while a heavy cloud magically appears on top of the slaver ship. Thunder rumbles and the slavers look up, in confusion and fear. Yes, let them fear. Fear is always welcome, I think, while a thunder falls upon them and I jump from my ship to theirs, my lance already caving a way of blood. This is for you Typhon, I finally whisper.

[deadanddeactivated]

Sanders Sides Hogwarts AU

So... this started as me just listing things out for a harry potter au and now it’s a semi-fic?  Oops.  Um.  Enjoy?  More to come for the other characters later if people want?

--

I’m thinking Roman and Remus are technically muggleborns, except their aunt is a witch so when Roman starts showing accidental magic their father knows exactly who to turn to.  He’s almost relieved actually, because magic didn’t tear his family apart but it’s so hard to talk with his sister when their worlds are so different and he tries but she doesn’t so they rarely see each other.  But now his son has magic!  And she comes to stay, comes to help Roman and teach him everything she knows about Hogwarts and the magical world.

But Remus, well, Remus doesn’t seem to have magic.  Because where Roman is explosive, Remus isn’t.  Remus sits and talks to snakes and his magic helps him play pranks.  Roman shouts and the walls rattle and things float when he’s happy.  Their father loves them both the same, but Roman and Remus face the same problems he and his sister faced.  Their worlds are so different, they grow apart.

And then their father dies.  It’s unexpected, it’s tragic, and they’re left alone.  Roman, obviously, goes to live with their aunt but Remus is given a choice.  He can go with them and face all that he can never have, day in and day out, or he can move in with his muggle uncle.  

Remus chooses his uncle, thinking that Roman doesn’t want him around, thinking that all that magic right in his face and out of reach might just make him scream.

Roman watches Remus leave and starts thinking he’s the problem.  His father’s gone, his brothers gone, and Roman internalizes that in the worst of ways and his aunt doesn’t know how to notice.

They don’t see each other much after that.  They barely talk at the few family events Roman attends.  Eventually Roman stops wanting to go to those, tired of watching everyone else be close and having fun while he feels like the outsider. 

Then Hogwarts sends outs its letters and Roman isn’t surprised to get his, but he is excited.  Remus though, Remus is very surprised to get his.

“There has to be a mistake.”  He frowns.  “I’m not a wizard.  Roman is.”

“The book doesn’t make mistakes,” McGonagall assures.  “Don’t you remember doing things that no one else could when you were young?”  Remus does, of course he does, he clung to those moments like a lifeline as he felt Roman drifting away.  But...

“That wasn’t magic, that was me trying to be like Roman.”  He claims, because that’s what Roman said, annoyed his brother would try to steal his thing, and his Aunt never saw him.

“Ah, but it was magic,” McGonagall says but she still sees the hesitation in Remus’ eyes.  “Come to Hogwarts, there’s no better place to prove you have magic.  And if you don’t, you can come home as soon as you’d like.”  She promises.

“Okay.”  Remus agrees after a moment because, well, he wants to go.  He doesn’t think he has magic, except deep down he knows, but Roman will be going to Hogwarts and Remus misses his brother so bad.  This way they’ll see each other again, right?  And maybe, just maybe, if Remus does have magic they can be brothers again.

The trip to Diagon Alley is incredible and if Remus were paying as much attention as his uncle, he’d fall in love with the place instantly.  The thing is Remus isn’t paying attention.  As they move between shops, buying clothes and books and a wand, Remus is desperately searching for his brother, just in case. 

“Remus, why don’t you pick out some other books.”  His uncle eventually says, leading Remus back to the bookstore that’s cleared out a little since the first rush.  “You could find a book about wizard criminals, I bet they’re a lot more interesting than ours.”  He suggests, hoping that the allure of the dark side of the Wizarding World will be enough to grab Remus’ attention.  

It is and Remus’ Uncle leaves him in the bookstore as Remus starts wondering which wizard to add to his criminal masterminds collection back home.

His search is interrupted by a little garden snake whose slithering over the shelves.

“I don’t think you’re meant to be here.”  Remus comments, using a finger to scratch the snakes head.

“I can be where I want.”  The snake hisses, making Remus laugh lightly.

“Fair enough.”  He says.  “Maybe you can help me cutie, I’m looking for the coolest wizard criminal they have.”  

“Damnit Tempest, where did you go?”  He hears a whispered hiss but it doesn’t come from the snake.  Looking around, expecting to spot another snake, Remus instead spots a boy with a burn on his face.  “There you are.”

“You can talk to snakes.”  Remus notes, eyes wide.  He didn’t know other people could do that.  Roman couldn’t do that.

“What of it?”  The boy huffs, clearly defensive.

“So can I!”  Remus grins, bouncing over.  “I’m Remus!”  He greets.

“De.”  The boy says.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.  Come on Tempest.”

“I like it here.”  Tempest claims, curled up on the shelf.  

“We have things to do.”  De snaps.

“Aw, you have to go already?”  Remus pouts.  “I was hoping we could chat.  Hey, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?  We could be friends!”

“You clearly don’t have a lot of those.”  De mutters.

“Not yet!”  Remus agrees, getting an eye-roll in response.  Moving past Remus, De collects Temptest from the shelf despite her hissed protests.

“You should look for books on Wrath.”  Temptest hisses to Remus.  

“Tempest.”  De scolds.

“Thanks!  Bye!”  Remus calls, waving them off.  He finds books on this Wrath character in the history section of the bookstore instead of the criminals.  His uncle finds him shortly after he buys it.

“Find something to read?”  His uncle guesses, hands behind his back.

“Yep!”  Remus grins.  “It looks more war than crime, but a snake told me to read it so.”  He shrugs.

“A snake?”

“Yeah!  I made a friend!  His name is De and he can talk to snakes too!”  Remus grins.

“That’s great!”  His uncle grins back.  

“What you go do?”  Remus asks.

“I found you another friend.”  His uncle says and reveals what he’s hiding, a small cage with a rat inside.  Remus gasps, immediately opening the cage to pull out the brown creature inside.  He grins wider when the rat runs up his arm, placing itself on his shoulder.

“I’ll name him Trash Rat!”  Remus announces.

He doesn’t see Roman that day.

On the train, Remus means to find Roman.  Instead he gets distracted when he spots De sitting alone in one of the carriages, Tempest resting on the window sill he’s looking out of.  Despite De’s protests, Remus sits with him and talks the entire trip.  Despite De’s protests, he’s actually enjoying Remus’ company by the end of it.  A little bit.

Because of that, though, Remus doesn’t see Roman until the first years are standing out the front of the great hall.  Remus is chatting to De when he looks over and sees his brother, chatting to a small group. 

“Roman!”  Remus shouts, cutting himself off mid-sentence to bound towards his brothers.

“Remus?”  Roman frowns, surprised and confused.  “But...” he trails off, not sure how to politely say ‘you don’t have magic’.

“Isn’t this great?”  Remus grins.  “We both have magic now!  And we’re going to boarding school together!  Do you think we’ll be in the same house?  We could room together again!”  He says, words rapid fire enough it takes Roman a moment to catch up.  When he does all he can do is mutter ‘uhhh’ before the great hall opens and they’re heading inside.  

With a last name like Prince, Roman and Remus are stuck to nearly the end of the list.  

“His whole names Dante?”  Remus whispers, scandalised, when De is called up as Dante Smith.  The tables seem to fall under a hush as the hat is placed upon his head, just like it did for that Patton Heart kid.

“Slytherin.”  The hat calls a moment later and the room returns to normal.

“No surprise there.”  Roman mutters to himself.  “That guys a serious bad apple.”

“What’s wrong with De?”  Remus frowns.

“He’s the son of an evil wizard,”  Roman says.  “And he can talk to snakes.  Don’t get much more evil than that.”  

“But... I can talk to snakes.”  Remus mumbles, too low for Roman to hear.  Or maybe Roman just ignores him.  

The names continue until finally, the list hits the Prince brothers.  Roman is called first, older by a hair.  The hat is on his head for just a moment before it announces Gyfinador, convinced by Roman’s personality and his begging.  Roman breaks out into a grin, joining his table, before Remus is called up.

“Gyfinador, gyfinador, gyfinador.”  Remus chants as the hat takes it’s place on his head but he’s quickly distracted, quickly pondering the weight of the hat and if that makes any sense.  After all, the hat is sentitate and speak but no heavier than the hats Remus tried on the other day.  Shouldn’t it have organs?  Or at least lungs and vocals chords?  Those should definitely weigh more.  Does that mean all hats have those?

“Curious, I see.”  The hat notes.  “A much better fit for Ravenclaw than Gyfinador.”

“What?  No, I’d be a great Gyfinador!”  Remus argues.  “I’m super impulsive!”

“I see that.”  The hat hums.  “But there is much more to both houses than that.  Ravenclaw.”

“No, please.”  Remus tries.  “I want to be in Roman’s house.”  That makes the hat pause a moment, reading into his mind, before it sighs.

“I don’t think that will do either of you any good.”  It says.  Finally, before the hat can take as long as it did with that Heart boy, it announces to the room - Ravenclaw.

Remus gets off the chair numbly, looking to the table he’s meant to join now, then to the brother that's not looking at him.

“Do I have to sit over there?”  He asks McGonagall who smiles sadly.

“It would do you better to make friends in Ravenclaw.”  She says, as polite a ‘yes’ as he’s ever going to get.  Downtrodden, Remus takes a seat among the Ravenclaws.

“You should eat.”  Someone tells him a moment later.  Looking up, Remus sees another first year adjusting his glasses.  What was his name again?  It was one of the B’s, right?  Is he wearing a tie under his robes?  “I’ve been informed we will be getting a tour after dinner, it would be best to keep your energy up.”

“I guess.”  Remus sighs, begrudingly piling food onto his plate.  He doesn’t make conversation as he eats, neither does glasses.  Right until the dinner vanishes, replaced with deserts of all kinds.

“What?!”  Glasses huffs under his breath.  “That’s ridiculous.  Has the food changed, was it transported?  How?” 

“It’s magic.”  Remus says, amused despite himself.

“It’s against the laws of science.”  The boy says.  

“There’s probably a science beyond it.”  Remus shrugs one shoulder.  Glasses looks surprised a moment before schooling his expression.

“You are the first person to agree with me on that since I received my letter.”  He says.  “I’m Logan.”

“Oh!  Logan Berry!  That’s what it was!”  Remus says, finally placing the name he’d heard.

“Yes, that is my full name.”  Logan mumbles.

“I’m Remus Prince.”  Remus says.

“It’s good to finally meet someone that appreciates science,” Logan says.

“I don’t know, from what I’ve heard about Ravenclaw, we probably aren’t the only ones.  Ravenclaw is full of nerds.”  Remus hums.  

“That has yet to be proven.”  Logan states, making Remus laugh again.

Okay, he thinks, maybe this isn’t so bad.

[helsaguy]

Best Disney Live Action to date.

This is my opinion and mine alone. You have your own. Watch out for spoilers if you haven't seen the movie yet.

What a ride. What a surprise. What a delight this movie actually is. The first promotional content did nothing, or very little to excite me about this movie. I was really gonna watch it just to see Will Smith’s work. Then good reviews started to pop out and those truly gave me hope. I still kept my expectations relatively low. But now I was excited to watch it. The idea was to watch the movie on Saturday, but stuff came up and couldn't be. Anyways, two great things happened about watching it on Sunday: First I got to watch it with more family members. I’m so happy they didn't miss this movie, you just can’t miss it. And second, I got to watch it in its original language! I'm sure the dub would have been good, but I really needed to hear the actors’ voices, the dialogues and more than anything the songs in their original language. It’s important to me.

I had my doubts about almost everyone in the cast. But in the end, if anyone made a mistake (which mistakes can totally happen and maybe they happened) I think they were so minor that I didn’t care if there was something off. The whole movie is just so good. I couldn’t care less about any mistake or off thing that could have been going on.

What I’m about to write may be weird. I felt that every character was very different to its animated counterpart. The story was pretty much the same, and of course the characters are the same (except for a couple of funny and good additions) yet they felt different to me. They felt very down-to-earth, very grounded, very fleshed out, very real. Which I think that's the whole point of these live action movies; or at least I think it should be that way. 

So far I enjoyed and liked all the live actions I've seen (Maleficent, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, The Jungle Book). But so far only Aladdin although being fair, Maleficent has it's own category has added content that served perfectly to enrich the movie and its characters. I see it that way anyway. It left me wanting to see more of them. I wanna see this gang again. Heck, I wanna watch the movie again. I really think it should have a sequel. More than anything I think this live action has established enough content to continue with another movie.

On a side note. Beauty and the Beast is my favorite animated Disney movie and if the live action doesn't make a sequel, I'm honestly not complaining. Here I am, perfectly well without a live action Beauty and the Beast sequel. And about Maleficent. I never thought it would have a sequel, and when I heard there would be one I was like: Ok. Maleficent is a whole other take on the Sleeping Beauty movie. A pretty interesting take if you ask me. And I’m curious to see how the sequel turns out. I loved Angelina Jolie’s Maleficent and I don’t mind seeing more of that. I think it'll be worth it.

About how I felt these characters were different to their animated counterparts. I think the most obvious is the Sultan. But man what a great change. I think every character was very likeable. Every good character that is. And the Sultan is so likable as a ruler and as a father. Of course he is a little flawed in those regards, but he grows and learns accordingly. I think everyone can or should understand where he’s coming from. It isn’t hard to understand his position. I'm not very comfortable comparing the live action to the animation. And I hope I won't do it (or do it much) writing further. But I think I dare say I liked this version of the Sultan better than the animated one. I just really cared more about him as a character and as a person. He even got a little action in the confrontation with Jafar and the dancing at the end of the movie. Way to go Sultan! He is a caring and loving father to Jasmine and father-daughter relationships are kind of my Achilles heel on Disney movies (Belle and Maurice, Ariel and Triton). Quite frankly, I never really cared for this father-daughter relationship with the animated movie, I'm guilty of that. But the live action version of these characters are a whole other story. The Sultan was overall a far more competent character and I loved it.

Oh boy I had so many doubts with Naomi Scott as Jasmine. But seeing her first interactions with Aladdin at the market place and at Aladdin’s street rat home, I was so charmed by her acting and charisma. Not to mention her beautiful hair and those beautiful, beatiful brown eyes of hers. Jasmine got quite the changes too, and I think most were very well done. This Jasmine is truly a ruler and leader in the making. Ready to be the first Sultana (that’s the proper term) of the land. She lacks some experience, of course, but she has all the tools she needs. I was impressed with all the knowledge this girl has at her disposal. Although, she's a Princess, of course she knows her studies. While the animated Jasmine feels rebellious “not wanting to be a Princess” and seems to ponder too much on the freedom she’s missing; live action Jasmine shows great conviction on wanting to help and better her people, her country and kingdom. She doesn't know much of Agrabah's outsides but once she gets out there and sees the market place full of people working and coexisting, she sees the community that lives under the Sultan's care and understands that those people are what make Agrabah so precious. Even from her balcony Jasmine gets to see her people's lives and how much they deserve to live happily and without fear of wars and losing loved ones (like she and the Sultan lost Jasmine's mother). Agrabah was done so lively that it’s easy to see why Jasmine wants so badly to be the next one on taking care of the kingdom and its people. She wants to make them happy and prosperous. Again, she is very likable. And most importantly, if some think these changes are to push some agenda (I thought that at first), well, if they are at least they don't feel forced. I think all these changes added a lot of depth and character to the character. To me they made Jasmine richer and a better role model.

Again someone that surprised me. Mena Massoud’s Aladdin turned out to be quite refreshing to me. In all honesty I wish I could explain better why I think this Aladdin differs from the animated one, but I lack the words. What I value the most of this interpretation is the simplicity and humility in character. He is more aware of himself. And while he does say the line “When you don’t have anything, you have to act as if you own everything.”, this guy doesn't feel pretentious at all. He is still very much down-to-earth and it shows greatly when he becomes Prince Ali. At least for the first part. I loved how awkward and/or insecure he is as Prince Ali during the Prince Ali musical number and when meeting the Sultan and Princess Jasmine. That scene is truly hilarious, with all the right jokes and all the right faux pas. Then there's the moment when the Prince gig gets to his head and is so believable how he gets lost in that lie and that facade, that it made me feel bad for him. In a pitiful way. Whereas in the animated movie I felt Aladdin was being a jerk to Genie and it made me think he deserved to be left alone. I definitely sympathize better with this Aladdin. Great chemistry between him and Jasmine from start to finish. Also I think it was very adorable to have Jasmine pretend to be the Princess' servant when she meets Aladdin for the first time. It made the blooming relationship more endearing and natural. Very appreciated. The animated movie honestly only makes me care about the Genie, but this live action truly made me care about every character. The good ones that is.

I still think Marwan Kenzari’s voice doesn’t fit Jafar at all. But this Jafar is still a good villain. I think he felt more cold blooded to me. He had a little background that benefited the character, not like they tried to do with Gaston on the Beauty and the Beast live action. And this depth not only made Jafar a little more interesting, it helped Aladdin's character as well. Jafar's past as a thief not only gives reason for his ambitions and goals, it’s also a good example of what our hero Aladdin could have become if he kept on the abusive/ambitious path of power. I think that provided quite the scare in thinking that if Jafar went through this manipulative, power hungry way; that could very well happen to Aladdin. This Jafar lacks the animated one’s theatrics but I still consider him a descent villain.

Very much like Robin Williams’ Genie is the heart and soul of the animated classic. Will Smith’s Genie is the heart and soul of this live action. Hands down my favorite character in the whole movie. Robin (R.I.P.) must be very proud with everything Will did. He was so charismatic, sympathetic, funny, charming, such a lovable character I swear to God. No one will ever convince me that this Genie wasn't perfect in every way, shape, or form. I loved how at the party in the palace he kept telling Ali to not ruin it for him. He's been trapped inside a lamp for thousands of years and he really wanted to enjoy a good party. The character with the most heart in the film and with powerful lessons to teach. Two of those will stay with me forever. The first, and I believe the intentional one, is that no matter how much riches you possess; no money, or jewels, or power will ever satisfy you nor make you happy. I wish more people in the world would see and understand that... And second, and this is I think more my interpretation than the movie's intention, to be human is what makes someone truly free. Although "being human" is such a vast term. I hope you understand what I mean. Anyways, what a freaking powerful message. This Genie wishes freedom. But that freedom isn't just to not be his master's slave or the lamp's slave. This Genie wishes to be human; he doesn't want to be an all powerful being for all eternity. And something happened in this movie that helped in a very sweet way to make this Genie even more human.

And that is Dalia. What a revelation this character is. Best addition to a live action adaptation ever. To be honest when I first heard of the character I really thought this live action would be ruined from the start. Who was this Dalia? Why Jasmine needed a handmaiden? Why was she white? Truth is Dalia is a much needed character. Also Nasim Pedrad who portrays Dalia was born on Iran to Iranian parents, and that made me more comfortable about her as a character in this movie. Dalia is a much welcomed addition to the colorful cast. Her character feels organic in this well known tale. She's not only Jasmine’s handmaiden but is also a true friend and her loyal confidant. And not to offend my favorite tiger, but the Princess really needed some human friend to talk to. Sure Dalia is a servant, but never once she complains about her place; even if it shows that on the inside she would like to enjoy more of the outside world as well as the Princess and have a life of her own. Dalia is quite insightful, she knows the Princess very well, she's very funny, and charming. We get to see how much and how well she cares for Jasmine and quickly becomes an endearing character. That scene where she pretends to be the Princess in favor of Jasmine being able to play the handmaiden character with Aladdin a little longer was incredibly funny. Not just she makes Jasmine a more well round character, she helps the Genie as well with their little romance. Such good content with these two. One of my favorite scenes was when the Genie wanted to ask Dalia out on an evening stroll and he, much like Prince Ali meeting the Princess, got all awkward and even mentions that Aladdin's behavior is contagious. Obviously he knows how to treat women right, with delicacy and respect. But also he's been imprisoned for so long that it isn't hard to see how he would be a bit clumsy when trying to court a girl he really felt infatuated with. Their interactions are just really sweet and charming.

The best part happens when Aladdin wishes for Genie's freedom and he does become human. And it is because of the lamp's very specific instructions that I believe a message for this movie is how being human makes us free beings. When making a wish Genie can't stress enough to Aladdin that he has to be very specific with his words, there's a lot of grey areas in wishes and he must wish carefully. Aladdin's third wish is of course to set Genie free, but he mentions nothing about making the Genie human. Still, the moment Aladdin wishes for Genie to be free he is turned human. And that's a very powerful message, even more so these days. It is the lessons this movie shows through Genie that truly capture the heart of the movie. Another example is when human Genie at the end of the movie asks for another chance to court Dalia. The affection is very much returned by the handmaiden and while she says that she is new at this dating stuff, she says that she accepts and that she wants to get married, have kids, and a boat. And all of that actually happens. And this is one more powerful message that I chose to interprete this movie tried to tell: even without being an all powerful being, humans are able to make their dreams/wishes come true. Genie and Dalia do get married, they have two kids a boy and a girl like she wanted, and they get a small boat like he wanted. Humans can make their wishes come true even without some magical help and that's Disney at it's best.

Let’s talk a little about the “sidekicks”. I enjoyed Abu being less caricaturistic. I know people adore Abu’s personality in the animation. But I think since this Aladdin was more serene in attitude, this Abu accompanied him very well. I adored Rajah. I'm very happy he showed up as much as he did. I honestly thought he wouldn't have as much screen time. I love his protectiveness over Jasmine most of all, but I also appreciate his good judge of character. Carpet was perfect. I think he suffered no change at all from the animated movie. So full of personality. I liked very much how during conversations the Genie would include Carpet and Abu into the chat. It made the monkey and carpet feel all the more real. Also, it hurt to see Carpet all torn when he was trying to escape giant Iago. And speaking of Iago. One of my favorite villainous sidekicks in Disney movies. This Iago is so not like the animated one. But that isn’t a bad thing. This bird looked creepy, and while it lacked all of Gilbert Gottfried’s personality, it made up in competence. This Iago is as cold blooded as his master, quite the spy, and a very effective giant boss fight. Thank you so much for keeping him a talking parrot. Very pleased with Alan Tudyk‘s work. And even if Iago's role is minor in the live action, he still serves very well his purpose.

Let's wrap this up with the music! Overall I loved it. Sure there are weak moments, but I think that didn't damage the movie at all. The film was just oh so entertaining on its own. Jasmine's new song Speechless is quite good. But the reprise was a little poorly executed visually-wise. I also think it sounds too pop-ish for it's own good. One Jump Ahead was weak in comparison to the original. The singing was pretty good, the music well "updated", but Aladdin was too relaxed walking here and there instead of running for his life. I liked a lot that Jasmine was part of the scene though. And congratulations to the woman with the "Still I think he's rather tasty" line, what a voice, and she was gorgeous. A Whole New World is very much the same and that's good. Both actors did great singing, Naomi's voice is incredible and Mena really surprised me as a good singer. That song doesn't need to be touched and they didn't touch it. Some may complain that Carpet didn't take Aladdin and Jasmine around the world, but I don't think it was needed. This Jasmine cared too much for her land that it was very sweet of Aladdin and Carpet to take Jasmine around Agrabah. She even admitted that Prince Ali knows more of Agrabah in the "few days" he's been to the kingdom than she has known all her life. It was fitting in my opinion to keep the ride to Agrabah. What was leaked of the Prince Ali performance doesn't make the whole thing justice. Sure it isn't as big scaled as the animated one, but is still a good show. And Oh My God WILL SMITH DID THE IN DRAG GAG!!!!!! I completely thought they wouldn't do it and Jesus Christ I laughed so hard, and was so happy they did it!!! He looked great, it was so funny. That alone made the song a success to me I swear. I couldn't ask for more. A Friend Like Me is another hit. A lot of detail, energy, I think the special effects were great. My favorite song from the animated movie and one of my top favorites in this live action. I think the new adaptation that takes the cake is Arabian Nights. Loved the longer lyrics, the visuals, and Will Smith being the one to sing it. We have Will Smith portraying a fisherman at the start of the movie. Then two adorable children ask their father to tell a story, and they prefer he sings the story. At first the fisherman says no singing since it's been a long day, but he soon indulge his kids and begins singing the opening number. The camera goes over Agrabah, we get glimpses of the characters in the tale. The Sultan in the palace, the Princess by he fountain with her tiger, a somber figure before the Cave of Wonders. We hear of the diamond in the rough requirement and go back to Agrabah. The way everything is presented feels so fairy tale like. And the opening number gets even better when right at the end we get the hint and confirmation that the fisherman and the kids are actually Genie and his and Dalia's kids. In all honesty I thought Will Smith was playing a whole different character with he fisherman. And even though we see the fisherman's wife from he back on the boat nd we hear her voice, I couldn't guess it was them till the end of the movie. Needless to say that revelation was fantastic.

I apologize for any typos. I know there's stuff I didn't write about like the couple of dance numbers going on, but they were great. I loved how gorgeous Jasmine looked at the palace's party. Her dancing was mesmerizing too. Hooray for the Jasmine and Aladdin wedding at the end! I made this long enough and whatever topic you wanna talk about, hit my ask box anytime.

Best Disney live action to date everyone. Highly recommend.

[ivyquinnauthor]

12, 17 and 25 for the ff writer asks please :)

Responding to the fanfic writer questions, if anyone else wants to ask some, feel free!

***12 - Who is your favorite character to write for?***

I guess since I’ve written pretty consistently in three fandoms so far, I’d list the ones that I liked the best for each or used to like. I mean, I was first in Buffy fandom so Spike. In Smallville---which I can’t write for anymore at all cause whoo boy all the scandals there turn my stomach----I liked Chloe Sullivan but again the real life terrible, literal cult stuff means I can’t do anything in that fandom anymore, and I haven’t written for that character in over 4 years. Such things happen. In Lucifer, I prefer Lucifer the most cause lots of just angst to mine but also sarcasm, lol.

************

***17) Post a line from a WIP you’re working on:***

Honestly, I have a few I spin plates for, keep up in the air, between two multi-chapter fics and a sort of interconnected series of one-shots. So, lines from the following:

A) From “Recurrence” - 

As musicals go, he appreciated ones with a more intense difficulty level and, in that regard, The Music Man left much to be desired. Doing the quid pro quo to show the lads trying out for Harold Hill how it’s supposed to be done was far from a challenge---he much preferred being out with Ella in Vegas with some Lady Luck---but he muddled through the inferior song anyway. After all, trouble with a capital T is something he knew everything about.

B) From “This Ebony Bird Beguiling” - 

He wasn’t sure how he got from playing helpful house guest, preparing sugary-laden treats for the urchin and the detective (when Chloe woke up, talk about a rough night) in a sunny beach house to giving Trixie Espinosa preening advice. Oh, don’t get him wrong. His interminable life had been nothing but bizarre, depending on whose perspective one took, but it usually didn’t vacillate between almost mind-numbingly boring and human one moment to worrying about someone else’s loose pin feathers the very next.

C) From “Queer Eye for the Chef Guy” (next Culinary Advice one-shot) - 

“I agreed to this, sort of, because you clearly need a distraction while Linda works through the whole you’re-the-devil-thing.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at Gary. “You have a fine talent for making the infernal and, frankly, formerly---very formerly---divine sound mundane, Preston. It’s more than a just a ‘thing.’”

Oh Christ...wait shouldn’t even think it. He'd gotten the devil extra prickly already. “Fine then. You want a project, and I want to keep Ms. Smith happy and, by extension, both my arms intact, but does it have to involve my clothes?”

“These!” Lucifer said, holding up a pair of cargo pants littering the floor. “Cannot be labeled clothes. In fact, do you have lighter fluid? Never mind I can immolate anything...”

“You can what?” And he didn’t yip, not really. Okay, maybe a little.

“Well, what all do you think I can do?”

Gary pinched the bridge of his nose. If he’d known that, he’d have just dragged his rucksack to Lux. Let Lucifer accidentally set his own bloody flat on fire.

***

And just cause sometimes I keep notes on things to do one day if little scraps of things come to mind, a couple snippets from stuff that’s just ideas and files for now:

A) From “Hair of the Dog” - 

He should send Miss Lopez home. Lucifer knew that the moment he spotted her arguing with Patrick in a very colorful and completely un-Ella-like mix of Spanish and English curses grumbling about being cut off. A good person would call her an Uber or even a private car---he could more than afford it---and send her home with a spare bottle of aspirin from under the bar to boot. Lux kept plenty of other first aid remedies around. After the hangover she was sure to have in the morning, Miss Lopez would even thank him for such chivalry. 

Except Lucifer was not a good person. 

Just a week ago, after the worst moment of his long suffering life, the detective had more than established that to her, he was not a person at all. And it was perversely impressive that in literally billions of years of existence, including permanent exile from his entire (mostly rubbish) family and burning for millennia in a lake of fire, that the detective yelling about being terrified of him would be the worst, but it was. So, no, Lucifer was not a good person or even pretending to be one right now. And he was well and truly soused for once after a steady effort at not only drinking every handle in his personal bar and half of Lux’s but also from downing more than his fair share---celestial metabolism or not---of some molly from the last party he hosted in the penthouse.

He was probably for a precious hour longer even less clear-headed than Miss Lopez. So when he pulled her away from the bar and smoothed things over with Patrick, he couldn’t quite make himself send her away, especially after she curled into his side. He definitely couldn’t refuse her suggestion to go up to the penthouse either...

B) From “What to Expect When You’re an Expecting Devil” - 

“No.”

He arched an eyebrow back at his therapist, who, to be fair, was also his former lover (and before things got utterly complicated and pear-shaped, he’d still have kept up that arrangement with her; she was that good as he found the uptight ones tended to be when they got a chance to let loose), currently the mother-to-be of his first ever nephew, and the only other person in history that he or Amenadiel knew about who was also dealing with a celestial pregnancy. Which sodding perfect. However, just because they were all kinds of enmeshed and, eventually, would be family and boy had his brother cocked that all up (literally), it didn’t mean he had to always listen to her.

If his track record was anything to go by, he rarely did.

Still, Linda kept her hand held out till he relinquished the handle and then coughed at him till he yielded the tumbler too. There were demons he’d beheaded in Hell for far less insolence. Sad state of affairs he’d reached where a wisp of a thing who couldn’t even hope to come up to his chest got him to acquiesce with merely her glare.

“First of all, if this is even...whatever Remiel thinks she senses and it’s assuredly not that because Dad likes his jokes but that’s...” He stuttered a bit there. “I am not that. Even if I were, I don’t think drinking would hurt the little larva and, maybe if it did, bully for everyone. Surely, by now you’re at least passingly familiar with Revelation?”

Linda’s glare hardened, and she gestured to the bar. “Don’t even. I’m not drinking with an angel-baby cause who even knows and you’re not going to...”

“With the antichrist?”He bit back, tone cutting, but the fight leaking from him. “If Remiel is right---and let’s all just hope she’s not because her spider sense is busted---I’m going to need to a drink or all of them worse than ever now.”

“No, Lucifer. Not self destruction for one or, well, both of you that way.”

He pursed his lips but grabbed a bottle of water from behind the penthouse’s bar instead. “Fine then. I suppose that’s the price of you being the only doctor I know who can help me out on the other end of things, you know, if Remy’s not just cracked.”

Linda blanched. “Nope not doing. First, there’s such a thing as too much family togetherness but also I’m not even close to that kind of doctor and it’s been three decades since medical school. Add in that...” she paused then, fumbling for the politic way to phrase something, he was sure.

“Right, like I said, the antichrist. Maybe. I don’t rightly know, John was very stoned when he wrote all that down. Psychadelic nightmare fuel and all that. So, then, I just go it alone, again, assuming Remy’s right?” His hand strayed to his hip because, honestly, self preserving powers of denial aside, even he knew something was really different about him these last two months.

And it shouldn’t intimidate him to have Linda waddle over to him with her eyes narrowed and, if anyone but Amenadiel ever asked him, it didn’t. Not really.

She sighed and bit her lower lip. “Okay, so not an optimal idea, but I have a friend from my residency and his son’s really talented just tends to fuck up...I mean he has his license but if you pay enough....no questions asked so that was what I was thinking?”

“Question or a statement, love?”

“Little of both, but I’m sure no booze is good booze till seven months from now.”

Lucifer drained his water. “Well, and I thought I knew something about Hell. Clearly, I was wrong.”

*******

***25) Have you ever cried writing a story?***

Yes, I have. Back when I still wrote Smallville, I have a very dark trilogy of stories called the Lara-verse. When writing two parts of that series, Black as Sackcloth and Of Wolves and Lambs, I cried because the first involved some fairly gruesome and distressing lead character deaths and because the second dealt a lot with dissociation and PTSD. Honestly, I never finished the series with the four installment because it was such a weird, hard headspace to be in that I just didn’t have the strength to go back to it. It’s on my livejournal here if anyone reads Smallville - https://legendarytobes.livejournal.com/?skip=30&tag=lara%20verse - people would have to friend me there to read, but if anyone’s that curious, feel free to.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 10: The Midnight Duel

The purple light from a fading sun gave every burnished piece of gold the effect of being on fire. Trophies, awards, medals, and several plaques all kept a highly polished look about them and stuck to their walls to the exact degree they'd been placed on even as a crash erupted and slightly shook the glass casings.

"That's it, new rule!" Sirius growled as he unstuck his face from a glittering cup boasting of some long ago Transfiguration award. "If you get close to the end of the chapter, you have to warn the rest of us!"

"Seconded," James groaned, having landed in the cradle of a statue, and sure he'd have a bruise for it later.

"Err, I'll agree with whoever gets me down," Alice squeaked from atop the tallest case of a life sized trophy of the school's first, and last, troll wrestler, except someone had the brilliant idea to have the prize be the size of the opponent rather than the student. The misting reflection from her breathing on the face of the bronze statue wasn't leading her to the confidence of getting herself down, considering she feared if she moved a finger to grab her wand she'd topple right off.

Frank tried to instantly jump forward and help, but in his haste hadn't taken note he'd landed on a precariously shaped hourglass award and knocked it over as well as himself, creating a domino effect that ended with the one she was on anyways. Thankfully her perch didn't so much as shiver even with the others now leaning against it. Still unbroken, the leaning cases now resembled an odd staircase.

She shrugged, taking this in stride by edging to that side of the lopsided head and now awkwardly shimming herself down each level, testing her weight before trying the next so as not to further upset anything, and finally making it onto level ground and patting Frank on the shoulder as he got to his feet with a blush.

"Well then," James sighed as he got to the floor and pulled the book out of a display of a dozen other books...leading him to ignore the question of who won a book as an award? "Now that that's settled," he only cast one more look around to make sure everyone was present as he started, rolling his eyes at Sirius now checking his reflection to make sure his hair was still evenly parted from his fall.

He had to hold the book just slightly awkwardly from his hand that still didn't enjoy anything being brushed against it, but was instantly pulled in by the chapter title alone. This was easily going to be the most interesting thing Harry would be doing yet, a duel! He found quickly this to be his favorite chapter just from listening to Harry explore their world even more through so much talk of Quidditch.

"That Malfoy," Sirius rolled his eyes and scoffed at him. "As if he even knows what a helicopter is, let alone bragging about getting away from one."

Lily looked at him in complete disbelief, which only doubled when his friends nodded along in agreement. It had been maddening enough listening to Dudley do all that to Harry and their mutters about that, but she really couldn't believe they couldn't see the hypocrites they were being now.

Torn between continuing to ignore their presence, especially in light of the last chapter, and giving them such a piece of her mind they wouldn't have any of their own left, she was grateful when Alice gaped open mouthed at them for a moment before bursting out laughing and turning to Frank, "you ever seen a bigger lot of idiots?"

"Not in all of my years," Frank agreed as he browsed further away from them, pretending to admire some Special Awards to the School given to a student rather than keep staring at such imbeciles.

Sirius spluttered with indignity, Remus and Peter exchanged a look and chose to say nothing, while James rolled his eyes without remorse and kept going, he wasn't going to defend himself to two people he'd never really spoken to, instead he just gave an anxious look at Evans and didn't want to linger on the subject.

It didn't help that the more Malfoy continued to antagonize Neville, the more filthy looks she shot him, as if picturing his messy black hair instead of the sleek blond. When the Remembrall was stolen for a second time and all Malfoy did was laugh as the poor kid was taken away for a broken wrist, James couldn't help but snap at her scoff of disgust, green eyes still lingering on him, and not because he'd been the one to say it.

"Honestly Evans, you really think so low of me? I've never nicked someone else's stuff, certainly not laughed when they were injured!"

"No, but you certainly cause plenty of the injuries," she refused to give in.

"This could go on for a while," Sirius sighed as he wandered over next to Remus, who'd gone over to look at some Defense Against the Dark Arts awards.

Remus agreed noncommittally, he was watching Alice Smith and Frank Longbottom. They were holding hands and whispering to each other, and he found it sweet how clearly worried they were for a kid sharing Frank's last name, whereas James and Evans were bickering loudly over Harry surely about to do the same thing as he mounted his own broom for the first time in chase of a much better flyer.

Peter was watching the bickering pair eagerly, looking at any second about to jump in and save James, though as he'd never actually stepped in between any of their fights neither of them were sure why he kept bothering.

That was all the looking Sirius did before he leaned in to Remus and muttered, "bored yet?"

Remus gave him a sideways look, glanced around at the spacious room that had a few darker alcoves, and shrugged before walking as if checking to see that both doors to this room were locked as well. Obviously he didn't want to go right past the two sparring, so he should check the one around the corner first.

Sirius followed with a curious smirk in place, only a step behind as he turned the same corner, but still wasn't expecting to be seized and pinned to the wall. Remus was still being gentle, holding his shoulders as their lips met, as if still politely asking if this was okay to be doing while not exactly waiting for permission to do it while keeping Sirius pinned. Sirius was having none of that.

The rush from this seized him, he pulled him in tighter, pressing their lips heavily together and only remembering to breathe through his nose when he had to at the slight catch of his breath. He'd already had his fun testing the waters of just kissing with another, and he wanted this to go further like he had before. Now that his first male companion would be leaving at the end of the year, he was going to enjoy this new company, and was still easily pushing aside who exactly he was doing this to lest things get awkward.

A groan he at least tried to muffle escaped him as Remus seemed to instantly understand like always, his hands sliding down tantalizingly slow towards his hips, when he realized what he'd forgotten at the same time he interrupted.

"Unless you two are planning on snogging over there, do you mind if we keep going before time actually ends us."

"I forgot about Regulus," Sirius hissed, pulling away at once and watching the corner with a leer as if expecting him to come bursting around and spot exactly what he'd just said. He in fact hadn't taken note of where his brother had been this whole time, he could have been in this very spot and they likely wouldn't have noticed!

"You tend to do that a lot," Remus said in an honestly conversational tone of voice, releasing him at once and stepping away as if to actually inspect how many trophies a school could hold for the largest Shrivelfig bush.

Sirius hadn't been expecting that, and his first instinct was to reach out and pull him back in arm's length, or even keep going just to prove that they could, there was no reason to stop, when Prongs came around the corner instead with Peter, the first still looking ruffled despite how much he was trying not to.

"Can you believe her?" James muttered, loud enough the whole place could likely still hear anyways. "A bully, honestly, why doesn't she ever go after Snape as often as he curses me! He started it. What's Regulus doing anyways, never seen him bother to say anything before this even while he's been hanging around Snivellus more than she has lately."

"Can't imagine the idea of being interrupted like that," Sirius huffed while crossing his arms.

James seemed to miss the sarcasm.

Peter gave Prongs a reassuring clap on the shoulder, still looking inexplicably pleased by all of this like he'd just seen a great show. "It's alright James, she'll come around."

James gave him a sideways look, like he was trying to detect mocking in that, while Remus finally looked at them and said, "ever tried using some reverse psychology on her?"

"I told you Remus, you can only take two electives, and why would you want to take more anyways-"

"No you idiot," Remus cut off with an eye roll, "I mean, if you don't want her to think you a bully, than try to stop cursing her friend for a bit."

James just looked at him before looking to the other two, "you ever wonder if Moony invented his own language without sharing it with us?"

"All the time," Sirius agreed.

James kept going then just to ignore Remus rolling his eyes at them again.

His excitement grew heavily almost at once, easily blowing off the still foul grumblings he could hear from the redhead at reading of Harry with such a natural on a broom! He was twirling through the air with ease, without a trace of fear, and then he actually caught that little glass ball without a scratch on him! Even McGonagall's arrival couldn't dampen his suddenly good mood, one little detention no matter what the kids fear was trying to tell him otherwise wasn't going to ruin his pride at hearing his Quidditch abilities being passed on!

Somehow the moment got better the longer it kept going!

"I think he actually stopped breathing again," Peter said conversationally as James didn't quite seem able to spit out the reason of why Wood was in the room.

"Probably shouldn't have been letting him get so excited, what with recently being electrocuted and all," Remus agreed with a touch of concern.

"Alright Prongs?" Sirius asked cheerfully, finally heaving himself off the wall with one last look at Remus before going to his best friend and patting him forcefully on the back. "I'm happy for Harry to, he'll be a shoo in for Quidditch in his next year-" he froze though as he glanced down at the words James couldn't get past his lips but Sirius then shouted at the top of his lungs.

Evans actually face palmed at the news of Harry being made Seeker. All four Marauders were over there laughing, applauding each other, and generally pleased beyond all measure for such an accomplishment. Even Alice and Frank looked politely startled at such a feat. Regulus just huffed and sank even lower next to the roster of all past Quidditch players and the various trophies earned over the course of the school. Of course no one was going to mention that he'd made the team in his second year. Obviously his older brother had done nothing more than look on at him in surprise when he'd seen him in the last few games as if he'd forgotten his only brother's existence except when they were playing. He'd show him though, when they got out of this crappy time, whatever was going on here, and played their Quidditch finals that weekend.

The din was deafening from the four and Regulus was honestly tempted to get up all over again and shove that book up Potter's arse if he didn't keep going. Thankfully his image needn't be used, this time, when he kept going at shouting levels all the way up to and past Harry getting into a midnight duel, and only ended with that little Hermione girl getting in the way of their merriment.

"What a little shit, threatening to tell a Prefect on them," James said, that smile finally slipping from him at such a turncoat move.

"She's as bad as Snivellus, more so than Malfoy," Sirius agreed, his nose turned up in disgust.

"Nosy little bugger, hope Harry or Ron shake her off before they get there," Peter nodded along.

They were all sure Lupin agreed as well, though his quiet mutter didn't carry as far like Potter did when he kept going.

Alice and Frank got a moment to smile again when they heard Neville was alright, and had inherited his father's memory problems, and they were all listening unabashedly to the duel about to come when the four kids got there, which meant they all said something quite unique to the little pint not even showing up.

"What a little shit."

James nearly fell over he turned so hard to get his head back around the corner to see Evans looking in his direction, arms crossed, and face still just as red from their fight, though clearly she was putting that aside for now to curse while saying, "never heard such a cowardice move, the least he could have done after starting the fight was finished it!"

Regulus frowned at her though, interrupting whatever fool hearted comment Potter was fixing to agree with. "I found it rather clever actually, why get yourself in trouble when you can just as easily setup your enemy?"

"I can see the merits of both sides," Frank agreed, "the underhanded tactic while he's just saving his own skin from really having to face the fight."

"It's purely ridiculous is what it is," Alice scoffed as she looked at her boyfriend. "There was no winning side in any of this and I'm honestly surprised it went this far instead of all the kids backing down."

"You lot have never been in a real fight have you?" James said aghast at all of this.

"And you've been in too many," Evans snapped testily, causing him to back down and go right back to Harry's problem.

It was a bit entertaining honestly, watching the kids panic and treating getting away from Filch like such a harrowing journey, but the amusement died instantly when the three headed dog entered the picture. Then no one was smiling, minds honestly frozen from shock of hearing of such a monster in their school and if it was really going to get away with eating a bunch of first years!

No one spoke, the rooms shadows feeling more vast than ever and the echo of a massive dog barking in all of their minds until James finally declared all four kids safe no matter what they tried to discuss afterwards.

"That was unbelievable," Peter was the first to find his voice, his light brown eyes still a little wider than normal. "Absolutely ghastly! Whose ruddy idea was it to have that thing in the castle!"

"Du-Dumbl-" Remus stuttered as if a child trying to speak the name for the first time.

"He wouldn't," James said at once. "The Forest he can't really control what comes in and out of there, but he'd never have that thing where so many students could so easily get to it."

"Well this certainly wasn't all Hagrid's doing," Sirius disagreed.

Remus flinched and no one really had much more of an argument, but the mystery still lingered like nothing they'd ever experienced in school. Just what was going on around there?

"Well here's my warning," James sighed as he read the final lines of this chapter.

[letterboxd]

Family.

“We’re trying to say: stop thinking about Manson as the embodiment of all evil. If he got a record deal, maybe nobody would have died.”

Jack Moulton talks cults, Trump and noise-cancelling headphones with American actress and screenwriter Guinevere Turner. Charlie Says is her latest film with frequent collaborator, Canadian director Mary Harron.

Of the serial-killer films currently in release, Charlie Says is the one that puts a strong focus on the women who often remain in the background of these retellings. Leslie Van Houten (Hannah Murray), Patricia Krenwinkel (Sosie Bacon), and Susan Atkins (Marianne Rendón)—the three women who killed for Charles Manson (Matt Smith)—are imprisoned in isolation in a California penitentiary, as well as psychologically imprisoned by Manson’s delusional ideas.

Then graduate student Karlene Faith (Merritt Wever) is given the job of rehabilitating the young women—as long as they are prepared to confront the horrors of their actions.

Turner co-wrote the 90s urban indie lesbian feature Go Fish directed by Rose Troche, which preceded her meeting with Harron. Charlie Says is their most recent collaboration, having partnered previously on American Psycho and The Notorious Bettie Page.

What interested you in writing a film about Charles Manson? Guinevere Turner: When the producers met with me they said they wanted to focus on the women as we definitely never got a sense of a story told from their perspective before. Once I found Karlene Faith’s book The Long Prison Journey of Leslie Van Houten [Faith’s study of the rehabilitation process and elongated incarceration of the three Manson Family girls], I saw a whole side of the story that literally never gets represented.

I got very excited that I could make a good movie out of this and it would also be an interesting commentary on what it says about society that we always treated these women like they’re interchangeable. Nobody’s ever asked “what happened to them?”, “what made them do what they did?” and more importantly “why did we stop talking about them?”. We never stopped talking to Charlie! There was a real opportunity to talk about men and women, who and when we pay attention to historically.

Did you get the chance to work with Karlene Faith in person before she passed away [in May 2017]? Yes, she was fantastic. It took a while to persuade her into talking to me at first. I slowly gained her trust via email, then we would talk on the phone, and eventually I would be visiting her apartment in Vancouver and we became friends. For about two years we were as thick as thieves.

Her book was obviously a huge resource but she was also useful for research as she was a woman of that time. She gave me a great visual, listening to her activist life outside of prison. When she met the girls for the first time she had all these assumptions that they were gonna be freaky psycho-killers and she was blown away by how sweet they were. She was immediately turned by them and she wanted to help them.

What were some of the unexpected realities of living in a cult environment that you wanted to portray? So I grew up in a cult environment as you probably knew so I assume that’s why you ask that question. [Ms. Turner spent the first eleven years of her life as part of the Lyman Family. They were devotees of Mel Lyman who believed he and his commune members would eventually live on the planet Venus. Though parted from her mother after birth, she and her younger sister were ejected from the Family when her mother eventually decided to leave. Ms. Turner considered returning at eighteen but chose to go to college instead.]

Yes, I read the article in The New Yorker. For me, I was excited to bring this knowledge in my DNA of what it’s really like living in that environment to represent both the good and the bad parts. You have those semi-orgy scenes and people doing acid, but also scenes where everyone is sitting around for dinner. That grounds it a little more. At the end of the day, it is a family—albeit an infamously weird one—but it is a bunch of people trying to live together.

While there’s the “everyday” quality to it I also wanted to show the volatility. It can be beautifully tranquil one moment and then turn on the dime into something scary and destabilizing. I feel like those things were true of my childhood. Mary Harron heard me talking about my upbringing for decades and she would always say “you should write about it”. I didn’t want to write about it specifically, but when I found this movie I thought I could bring something personal to the project that no other screenwriter could.

We’re curious about how you like to write. What music do you listen to while you work and are there any films you used as inspiration? I can’t listen to anything when I’m writing. I have noise-cancelling headphones that don’t cancel noise enough. I could live in an actual sensory deprivation tank while I write and I would be so happy, but unfortunately you can’t bring computers underwater. So, no music.

I watched a lot of movies of the era, especially unconventional movies about Jesus such as Jesus Christ Superstar (1973). Those were interesting aesthetically.

There’s a shot in the movie where they’re walking up the side of this mountain and I just loved that iconography. We were short for time on the day and I pleaded with Mary to make it happen. It made me so happy that it became one of the images they use for the promotion of the film. It does feel like this biblical journey and we were trying to capture that vibe.

What do you do to ensure the female gaze is considered from the script? I find a lot of that is intuitive. For example in this script, there has to be nudity but you notice that every time someone is naked in this movie it’s really uncomfortable. That’s one thing in terms of subverting male gaze, is that there’s no way that any person could see those scenes as objectifying the body for more than a nanosecond because of what’s happening.

It’s all about power, so I like that it’s portrayed as being uneasy. Even when Matt Smith is naked, Charlie is exerting power over someone else and she’s repulsed by him. That’s one of my favorite scenes in the movie.

How does your acting background feed into the way you write your characters? I think because I’m an actor I deeply feel the reality of what’s available for the average female actor to play. There’s tons of “someone’s girlfriend” and all the tropes, so for me when I’m writing I’m asking myself what about this is going to make an actor say “yes please, let me play that part!”.

I need to present something complex and challenging that they don’t often see. As someone who’s auditioned for many characters that I thought were poorly written, I try and give even the small parts something that will make an actor excited to play them.

What makes your creative partnership with Mary Harron work so well? It’s funny because we’ve never really asked ourselves that. Of course in the last week we’ve been asked that a lot while we’re in the same room and we look at each other like confused animals going “why does it work?”.

We realize that we have a similar sense of humor so we laugh a lot even while we’re writing all this dark stuff. The main factor is that we really trust each other. One of the hardest things about collaborating is that you’re not sure if someone is shooting down your idea because it doesn’t work or they’re jealous that it’s good. You need to trust that you can test stupid ideas with them.

When we first met in 1996 [shortly after Harron’s directing debut I Shot Andy Warhol and Turner’s writing debut Go Fish] we immediately had an affinity for each other and started writing together. It was as easy the first time we tried it as it is now. There’s not even much of an evolution. I feel really lucky for that because as a screenwriter it certainly means I have a lot more access to the movie than usual because the director is always checking in with me.

Despite all of the bleakness, it’s clear in the film that these women just wanted to be loved. There’s such a deep sympathy for them. What interests you about the line of responsibility for those influenced by dangerous charismatic leaders? I’d say everything about that interests me.

I’m drawing parallels to politics today such as the alt-right people that Trump influences, for example. We’re seeing echoes where people are mindlessly following a person who is validating evil, dangerous, and disgusting ideas. For these women I had to constantly remind myself that they did commit these horrible crimes.

I feel like Charles Manson and Donald Trump are apples and oranges except for the fact that they strike me as people where their only real fuel is power and that half the time they don’t know what they’re doing or saying, they’re just terrified of losing it. They almost have no internal life. They just feel when they have the power and when the power may be taken away and what they do to keep it makes people do terrible things. It’s like an addiction.

Matt Smith as Charles Manson in ‘Charlie Says’.

I’m sure you’re painfully aware that we have four Charles Manson films coming out in a short space of time. There’s Tate, The Haunting of Sharon Tate, and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, though I’m certain Charlie Says was conceived before all of these. How do you feel about being a part of this cycle? I started writing the movie in 2014 and most of the time movies are made two years later but that’s not how it worked out for various logistical reasons. So on the one hand, I cringe that it’s the 50th anniversary [of Sharon Tate’s murder] and that’s when our movie’s coming out—it feels tacky but it’s definitely not on purpose.

Which seems to be very deliberate on Tarantino’s part… But the way independent films work is that you try and get them made until you get them produced. You don’t have these luxuries of when exactly they’re going to come out. That said, we have landed in a zeitgeist moment which is nice in terms of people paying attention to the movie. I don’t know much about Once Upon a Time in Hollywood but I’m sure Tarantino has a radically different approach from ours.

While they share some similarities, your depiction of Charles Manson doesn’t work in quite the same way as American Psycho’s Patrick Bateman. How did you decide the ways you wanted to humanize Manson? I think the first thing that’s similar between how we portrayed these two characters is that while they’re these powerful frightening people, we’re demystifying them and grounding them in an essential pathetic loserness. Mary and I don’t talk about how we can make another movie that takes down toxic masculinity, that’s just where we end up sometimes.

With American Psycho the stakes of social responsibility were different. We were asking people to put your baggage with the book away, we’re women making this, and we are trying to turn it into something that’s a critique of masculinity in a funny and dark way.

For Charlie Says we’re trying to say: stop thinking about Manson as the embodiment of all evil. We want to stop giving him that power and show that he was a conman who was just a failed musician. If he got a record deal, maybe nobody would have died.

Christian Bale as Patrick Bateman in ‘American Psycho’ (2000).

I have to say, American Psycho holds up really well for the Trump era. One could argue that it works better now than when it came out.

How do you respond to the way you’ve already satirized these sociopaths in power and how that affected the increasing appreciation for the film over the years? It’s gratifying, because [American Psycho] was not particularly well loved when it came out. That’s disheartening when you work hard on a project that you think is more worthy. That said, it being more relevant now is terrifying. I watched the movie again recently and there’s a little part of you that cringes when we make Trump jokes because Donald Trump was a different kind of funny at the time.

‘Charlie Says’ is in US cinemas now, and available on VOD and digital from May 17.

[sweetsmellosuccess]

Tribeca 2019: Day 1 & 2

Number of Films: 4 Best Movie of the Day: Charlie Says

Charlie Says: Charles Manson is almost a cliché unto himself at this point, so the first and most imposing hurdle in Mary Harron’s narrative drama about three of the women from his ‘Family’ over the years in prison, is finding a way to represent the man without falling prey to reducing him to a caricature. Fortunately, in casting British actor Matt Smith, and keeping to a taut script from Guinevere Turner, the film captures the spooky essence of the man, and his incredibly effective mind-control techniques, in a way that feels honest, and truly terrifying. The film cuts between the three incarcerated women, Leslie (Hannah Murray), Patricia (Sosie Bacon), and Susan (Marianne Rendón), as they meet with Karlene (Merrit Weaver), a graduate student assigned to work with them, and flashback scenes of the women with Charlie, along with the other sprawling members of his cult-like entourage. What begins as an exercise in free will, free love, and “living without rules” (though, notably, this “lawless” micro-society Manson creates still operates out of a strong sense of hierarchy and sexism), starts to degrade from Charlie’s increasing prejudiced paranoia and growing wave of violence. The flashback scenes are exceptional, with the aforementioned Smith embodying Manson’s smooth stream of mind-twisty patter (some of which sounds like something out of a “Bad Lip Reading” video), and his desire to dominate the minds of his followers. The prison scenes, despite a noteworthy performance from Weaver, feels a bit less grounded – and Leslie’s eventual rehabilitation comes too fast and without the kind of weight it needs – but the film’s strengths more than make up for its weaknesses.

In Fabric: You get the sense Writer/Director Peter Strickland is an auteur of very particular, often odd, preoccupations. His new film plays under the general rubric of a horror picture, with his already signature ‘70s-style embellishments (font, color schemes, sound design), involving a red dress that seems imbued with evil, but with a narrative grounding like sand in a vacuum chamber, it’s a mistake to suggest the film sticks with an identifiable thematic legacy beyond Strickland’s penchant for the TV advertising from ‘70s-era deparment stores. Mixing more grounded elements – a newly single mother (Marianne Jean-Baptiste, always a treat to watch) tentatively meets men through a dating service, as her teen son (Jaygann Ayeh) keeps bringing his aggressively sexual girlfriend around her house – with the more conceptual element of the demonic department store, Dentley & Soper’s, with its bizarre saleswoman (Gwendoline Christie) spouting exhaustive commerce platitudes in the lilt of non-native speaker using a full-power thesaurus, and an unspecified devotion to its various mannequins, some of whom appear to leak real blood. The film more or less culminates with a full-scale riot at D&S, with shoppers tearing each other, and the store apart, as the cursed dress manages to take the whole place down, appropriately enough, in flames. Imagine an homage to an Italian horror giallo, crossed with a singularly peculiar aesthetic fetish, and you get a sense of the scope of Strickland’s intriguing work.

Scheme Birds: The hardscrabble film about a hardscrabble teen is a staple of the documentary genre, but Ellen Fiske and Ellinor Hallin’s film, about a young woman named Gemma, growing up in a particularly downtrodden part of Scotland, keeps the focus wisely tight on its subject’s life and the male friends (in particular) she has that can’t seem to escape their violent fate (early in the film, which is slyly narrated in parts by Gemma, she explains of Motherwell, young people either end up “knocked up, or locked up”). While Gemma is too a product of too-young parents who deserted her as a baby, what she does have going for her is her grandfather, a boxing trainer and pigeon enthusiast, who, one imagines, is the one who imparted on her the fighting spirit and take-no-nonsense demeanor that helps her navigate these particularly befouled waters. After the screening, the two female directors did a Q&A with the audience. When asked if they were worried about the idea of exploiting Gemma and her friends for the sake of the film, they both laughed at the thought. Gemma, they explained, knew exactly what she wanted out of this project, and through rigorous examination of the footage and in the editing process, made sure it went the way she wanted it. They had the final say, they assured the audience, but she kept things sorted.

Something Else: Truth in titling. A curious combination of ol’ boy comedy, monster flick, and serious relationship drama, Jeremy Gardner and Christian Stella’s shambling film cobbles together a bunch of seemingly disparate elements in ways both routine, and genuinely surprising, and manages to come away with a series of solid base hits. An oft-drunken but sweet-tempered country boy, Hank (Gardner), laments that his longterm girlfriend, Abby (Brea Grant), has suddenly walked out on him without warning. Worse, in the weeks she’s gone, each night some horrible monster with hideous claws comes slamming and scratching at his door, trying to get at him, and no one, not his best friend, the eternally besotted Wade (Henry Zembrowski), nor the town cop (Justin Benson), who happens to be Abby’s brother, actually believe him. Gardner makes for a surprisingly sympathetic protagonist, and the film takes impressive leaps of faith – including a static 10-minute plus shot of Abby and Wade talking about their relative issues – en route to a genuinely shocking ending. It fires at about a 35-40% clip, which doesn’t sound so great (and, indeed, I can’t quite recommend the film outright), but considering the degree of difficulty it manages to straddle, one can’t help but be at least grudgingly impressed.

Photo from Charlie Says

Heading due north about 100 miles, I’m in NYC for the opening weekend of Tribeca, an oft-underrated festival that represents an increasingly wide range of fare.

[hellieheat]

Humanity’s strongest soldier. The newspaper Kenny held in his hand displayed this headline proudly, causing him to roll his eyes. The brat was everywhere these days.

When Kenny was first told the story of the street urchin who escaped the underground by joining the Survey Corps only to become the savior of the last living world, he had to fight back the urge to choke. That, coupled with overhearing conversations depicting the “hero of humanity” standing tall and fearsome, made him laugh out loud, knowing these stories to be falsehoods bred by over-idealized caricatures of who this man really was: Levi. “Captain” Levi, he corrected himself with a grimace. It wouldn’t have irritated him quite as much had he not known the Captain for what he was – had he not raised that brat himself.

“Hmph,” the growl that escaped his lips pulled his face into a sardonic smirk. He dropped the newspaper and stamped it into the puddle under his feet. “Captain.” He rolled his eyes so heavily he was sure they might roll back into his skull and therewith in, get stuck forever.

He felt slightly guilty for how exasperated he felt – it wasn’t like him to let that little shit get under his skin. He had long since left Levi behind in the underground, never to look back. Kenny had known full well that the runt could take care of himself. But to fool the world into thinking he was a hero – that pissed Kenny off.

He had seen the turmoil and disease that had surrounded that hovel in which Levi had been born and raised. Had watched that tiny boy grow into a less tiny adolescent and had even been so gracious as to assure Levi’s survival through teachings, trainings and a good beating or two. But once an underground rat, always an underground rat. Kenny knew this better than anyone. You didn’t see Kenny the Ripper trying to pretend he was some kind of savior. That wasn’t a life for which he could ever attempt to strive.

Despite himself, Kenny felt curious. What was it that could possibly have attracted Levi to that pretentious life of a pampered pet for the Scout Regiment? To put his life on the line to defend the masses that would so easily turn on him?The Levi Kenny knew was selfish, conniving and determined to survive. So what had changed? What possible reason could he have for throwing aside his resolve to survive in exchange for pathetic ideals of a world without titans? Kenny thought he had taught him better.

“Did you hear, that Captain Levi took down 10 titans on his own during the last mission?” A woman’s brash voice cut through his quiet ponderings, setting his body aflame with annoyance. For the most horrific of brief moments, Kenny actually thought she was speaking to him. His eyes narrowed into slits as he turned to face her, only to hear her counterpart’s laughing response.

“He’s transforming that Survey Corps isn’t he? No wonder Commander Smith has been keeping him close.” Kenny’s ears perked up that. Commander Erwin Smith. He had heard a good deal about him. The nobles were both perturbed by and enamored of him. He was an enigma in and of himself. That made a little more sense Kenny. Levi was always looking for someone to cling to – someone stronger than himself. He had clung to Kenny. Of course, if given the change, he would cling to another man of power like the barnacle he was.

“I heard Commander Smith found him in the gutters of the underground. Saved his life. And the Captain is so thankful, he hardly leaves the Commander’s side.”

“Tsk,” Kenny’s ponderings were confirmed. The little runt was clinging to Smith for dear life. The commander would probably be glad to get rid of the slug. Amid their drab ramblings, Kenny turned away, sickened by their blathering. He’d heard enough about “Captain Levi” for one day.Besides, he had more important tasks at hand.

The marketplace in Stonehess in which Kenny was perusing was bustling today. Kenny was not one for the crowded commotion of the common people. Though he had been sent to the market on a “mission” for his noble liege, he felt stuffy and uncomfortable, burdened by these average people and their average lives. The problems of the paupers were not worth the discomfort he was being caused by this little assassination mission. As he moved around two stocky men bartering over the cost of corn, he wondered if the famous “Captain Levi” ever had to perform these sorts of ridiculous feats for those pompous pigs he was now serving. Somehow he doubted it. And that pissed Kenny off even more.

One thing Kenny was good at – killing people. He was good at it and he enjoyed it. He wondered if the swine who now kept Levi under their thumbs truly knew what kind of monster they had tamed. He imagined, due to the fame Levi had earned himself from slaying those ugly giants, that they had to have some sort of idea. But to what extent? Did they know the Levi Kenny knew? The one who had fought, cheated, lied and even killed other human beings to survive? Kenny scoffed. Again, he doubted it.

The assassination was just about as easy as he assumed it would be. Killing family men who knew too much was never much of a challenge. It lacked sport. Though he did have to wait until cover of nightfall to sneak into the home – waiting around was the hardest part. Kenny was a man of action.

He didn’t love killing kids though.

His mission had been to kill the father only – but not to hold back should someone else become aware of his presence. They were on Rod’s shit list anyway. What was one less mouth to feed in a cruel world in which they weren’t wanted anyway. Kenny had learned long ago to bypass empathy with pragmatism. The girl had been asleep on the floor in her parents’ room. She had seen too much. He had made sure her death was quick and painless. Nevertheless, it had been sloppier a job than Kenny would have preferred.

As he dried the blood off his hands with his kerchief and climbed out the window through which he had entered, he sighed. His mind was back on Levi again. “God dammit,” he muttered under his breath. Ever since seeing Levi’s name in that paper, the brat had occupied nearly all of his mindless thoughts. The irony of his situation was not lost on him. The day Kenny had met Levi, it would have been just as easy to kill him as it would have been to simply leave him there and never look back. But instead, Kenny had decided to give this cruel world another mouth to feed, another monster to hide in hero’s clothes.Kenny never had loved killing kids. He had not made that mistake since. Silently, Kenny slipped away into the night – mind set, teeth gritted. It was time to go visit his mistake.

Kenny knew where the Scout Headquarters were located though he had never personally visited. Why would he? It stank of idealism and broken dreams. It was, in his opinion, the place where heroes went to die. All except Captain Levi, the man no titan could kill. No titan but me, Kenny thought and smirked. The long black coat he was wearing obscured his form, allowed him to blend himself into his surroundings. He needed to be careful. If he knew Levi, the little man would surely be on high alert at all times, wholly aware of his surroundings and waiting for an attack. It was a mindset created by life in the underground. And a childhood with Kenny the Ripper.

As Kenny approached the compound, he saw candle light burning in the stables – heard voices. Two voices to be exact – a conversation. As he neared the doorway, his heart froze in his chest. That voice. He knew it right away. Though he had never known Levi as an adult, Kenny knew he was listening to Levi’s voice. Levi’s words. He paused in his tracks, paralyzed, afraid he might not be able to move any closer. In that moment, all hatred and disdain for that brat melted away, replaced only by an abject fear. Fear that seeing Levi might break him.

A rush of anger shot through him like a lightning bolt, bringing him back to reality. He was Kenny the Ripper. He was in control of this situation. Pure rage flooded his mind replacing any sentimentality that had pervaded unwillingly. He moved closer and peered through the stable window.

The wings of freedom suited him. Painted on his back like they should have always been there. The uniform suited his small form, though it was mostly obscured by the dark green of the cloak that hung across his shoulders. Levi’s back was to Kenny, most of his attention held by the sleek brown horse through whose mane he was running a brush.

Kenny did not notice the other man until he spoke. His voice was deep and imposing. It didn’t take Kenny more than a moment to realize he was hearing the voice of Commander Erwin Smith himself.

“Levi – it’s for the Corps. If nothing else, your presence will intrigue the nobles into funding our next –“

“My presence there will only cost the Corps more funding, Erwin. Those fuckers are expecting Humanity’s Strongest. That person does not exist.” Kenny smirked hearing Levi’s response, the growl in his voice. He leaned in closer.

“I disagree.” The Commander was leaning back against the corner of the stable, mere feet away from Levi. His posture conveyed a quiet ease. The anger in Levi’s voice did not seem to concern him. Slowly, deliberately, the Commander pushed himself off the wall and moved closer. Kenny wasn’t sure, but he thought he sensed some hesitance. Like watching a man approach a rabid dog, unsure of the dog’s intentions, afraid it may lash out at any moment.

“Tsk.” Levi rolled his eyes and Kenny recognized himself in that expression.

“Levi,” the Commander’s voice was stern but soft. “What are you afraid of?”

Levi’s eyes snapped to his superior’s face. “Afraid of? What makes you think I’m afraid of those pompous, arrogant pigs? I couldn’t be less afraid.”

“That’s not what I asked. I would never be so foolish as to think any human being could frighten you.” The smirk that crossed Commander Erwin’s face angered Kenny. He wasn’t sure why. “I was merely wondering if there was some other reason you were so against going.”

Going. Going where? Now Kenny was interested.

“I thought for someone as intelligent as you it should be obvious.” Levi’s drawling, sarcastic tone made Kenny’s heart flutter. He almost laughed aloud. The kid had turned into a shorter version of himself. “I don’t want to be anywhere near those self-important bastards. All they want is a show – they want a parade. They want to see the Survey Corps humble itself in front of them – beg at their feet. It’s a disgrace. I want no part of it.” He paused, eyes turned away from the other man’s face. Then, quieter, “Besides, if I lost my temper, we could lose all chance of funding.”

The commander laughed out loud, causing Levi’s eyes to shoot straight back up. “What?” the Captain growled.

Commander Erwin lit up in a broad smile. Kenny wanted to punch his handsome, symmetrical face. “So that’s it then? You’re worried about embarrassing the Corps?”

Kenny saw Levi’s eyes narrow as he watched the Commander’s face.

Commander Erwin placed a gentle hand on Levi’s shoulder. “That won’t happen,” the Commander said. “There’s not a single person I would trust more with this.”

“Then you’re a fool.” Levi’s eyes were cold. But Kenny noticed that he did not flinch away from the Commander’s touch.

“Perhaps so.” Kenny was surprised by the softness in the Commander’s tone. It made his skin crawl. “But I trust you, Levi.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Levi recoiled from his grasp. Commander Erwin let his arm fall limply to his side. He leaned against the stall nearest Levi. “What makes you think I’m worthy of that trust? It’s misplaced.” Did Kenny detect a hint of longing in that voice he recognized so well? A hint of desire to belong, to be trusted? It didn’t suit Levi. And it surprised the hell out of Kenny to hear it.

“The number of Survey Corps lives you have saved proves otherwise.” Though Levi would not meet his eyes, the Commander held a steady gaze on Levi’s face. “The number of times you have saved my own life proves otherwise. The fact that you stayed when you could have left easily proves otherwise.” He paused, watching Levi’s unmoved features. “Now who’s being stupid?”

Levi snarled in frustration but Erwin’s grin never faded. “It’s one banquet, Levi. Mitras isn’t the worst place to spend a singular night.”

A banquet. In Mitras. Kenny made a mental note to find himself an invitation.

“One banquet,” Levi repeated. “One banquet will become two. Two will become four and before you know if, I’ll become your pampered house pet, following you from one pretentious gathering to the next.”

“Are there not worse things?” The commander was teasing Levi. Kenny knew it and Levi knew it. A small smirk pulled at the corners of Levi’s normally placid expression. “Do I have a choice?” he asked quietly.

“Always.”

Kenny rolled his eyes.

“One banquet,” Levi conceded. “But know I’m not happy about it.”

Erwin leaned in close to Levi, his mouth just adjacent to the smaller man’s right ear and should Kenny have been just a little further away, he might have altogether missed the Commander’s words. “I know.”

The commander gently squeezed the captain’s shoulder, giving him a knowing look, before turning on his heel and heading towards the exit of the stable. He paused once more to look at Levi. “Good night, Captain.”

[makuroshi]

This fluffy fic is my Eruri Secret Santa gift for @danchou-smith! Your wish list left me open to a lot of options, and I’ve chosen the domestic fluff/humour route (with a tint of smut, of course)... I haven’t written in a long, long while so I’m rusty, but I hope you liked it~ Happy holidays, love :) *Also on AO3

Title: “hello fuck off, i’m erwin”

Ratings: M

Summary:

“I’m an editor now, but I used to work at a calendar factory,” Erwin says, popping a chip into his mouth. “I got sacked.”

Levi’s interest is piqued. “Why?” He asks, curious.

Erwin glances up from his plate, smirking like he’s up to no good. “Because I took a couple of days off,” he says, snickering as if something is so funny.

Levi doesn’t get it.

(or Levi meets the fabled oh-so-perfect Erwin Smith and instantly learns that he’s not always what he seems. He falls in love anyway)

---

“Listen,” Hange says, excitement evident on her face as she leans forward, encroaching into Levi’s space. Levi can already guess what she is going to talk about; she’s been harping on it for days. “I have this friend, you know? That tall blonde guy I went to college with? I was talking about you that day and he’s interested to know more about you.”

“Mike said he smells nice. Wonderful, even.”

“And why the hell should that convince me?!”

“You know how Mike is! He can smell evil from miles away!” Hange swings her arms in an exaggerated gesture and Levi sighs, feeling a headache coming.“I’m telling you, Erwin’s a great guy. Almost impeccable if not for—“ She pauses, as if suddenly remembering something, then brushes it off “Nevermind, just meet him once, please?”

“No.”

“I’ll make my students stay back to clean the classrooms and the office everyday for a month?”

Levi considers, and then- “Deal.”

And that’s how Levi ends up in a family restaurant across the street, on a set-up meeting (not a date) with the one and only Erwin Smith.

Erwin Smith is, to put it simply, insanely attractive. His flawless appearance might be intimidating to some people, but to Levi, nothing turns him on more than a calm and collected man who knows how to keep his suits crease-free and hair perfectly in place. The height is a very much appreciated bonus –the first time Levi hears that they have a good 1’ between them he almost drags the guy straight to bed. Almost.

Throughout their not-date, Levi slowly learns more about Erwin, and with each passing second, he’s solidifying Hange’s claim that he’s Mr. Perfect. Levi can’t believe his luck. But come to think of it… Hange did blurt something about Erwin, right?

“I’m an editor now, but I used to work at a calendar factory,” Erwin says, popping a chip into his mouth. “I got sacked.”

Levi’s interest is piqued. “Why?” He asks, curious.

Erwin glances up from his plate, smirking like he’s up to no good. “Because I took a couple of days off,” he says, snickering as if something is so funny.

Levi doesn’t get it. He replays what Erwin said in his head. ‘I got sacked from a calendar factory because I took some days off—‘

Wow.

“That was… awful,” he deadpans. “You in charge of Reader’s Digest jokes section or something?”

“Economics, actually. But I dabble,” Erwin smirks. Levi wants to punch his face at how beautiful he looks. “

So this is it. This was what Hange had almost let slip. Erwin Smith’s flaw is that he makes terrible jokes. And not just any jokes, he makes… dad jokes.

Uh oh.

“So?” Hange claps a hand on his back when she runs into him the next day. Levi knows she wants to talk, but he doesn’t.

“So what?” He snaps, pressing the red pen onto one of his students’ book so hard that it pokes through it. He looks at the front page. Eren Jaeger. Tough luck, kid.

Hange’s still starry-eyed, ignoring Levi’s distress. “So… with Erwiiiinnn? How’d it go?”

“Mostly amazing but…” Levi replies, pointing an accusatory finger at Hange. “You knew.”

“That he has a dreadful sense of humour? Yeah,” Hange chuckles, shaking her head. “But other than that, isn’t he just your type?” She grins. “Admit it, you’d totally climb him like a tree.”

He’s suddenly reminded of Erwin’s exasperatingly hot physique and shit, that’s a thought he doesn’t need when he has a class to teach in ten.

“Do you think you guys will work out?” Hange asks. Levi closes his eyes and replies, “We’ll see.”

 And they work out just fine, it seems. The subsequent dates go well (yes, he can call them dates now), and even though Erwin still sometimes say shit like “Did you hear about the chef, Levi? He pasta away” while they’re eating fucking pasta, Levi is willing to put it past him, especially since he gets to shut Erwin up nicely by riding his dick to oblivion after a particularly flirty night.

Mike smiles knowingly (note, creepily) when Hange and him hangs out on the weekend, and really, who cares about the teasing when Erwin’s such a fantastic fuck?

He has never thought it’d come to this, but somehow one thing leads to another and Levi moves in with Erwin after a year and a half of being together.

The place they get is in a gated neighbourhood, homely and convenient for them both, more so for Levi as the school he works at is within walking distance. Erwin still has to drive to his office, which is not a problem as his job sometimes entails driving around to meetings anyway.

Living with Erwin is surprisingly easy to get used to. They fall into a comfortable routine without much hassles, and life is going really, really great.

But if there’s something Levi has trouble with, it’s Erwin’s work timing.

Erwin’s job as a senior editor should be less taxing than it is currently, considering that he is now rather high up in the food chain. He’s well-respected in the industry, a favourite among the crowd for both his talents and charm; he no longer needs to work his ass off day and night to prove his worth.

Except it’s Erwin we’re talking about. He has always been a bit of an workaholic, not accepting anything less than perfect for the pieces he approve, and that results in him working extra hours, even on the weekends.

It’s not ideal, of course, but Levi manages.

Today is a rare but welcomed occurrence. For the first time in a while, Levi wakes up to Erwin’s broad chest smothering his face, warmth engulfing him in a bone-crushing embrace. He inhales the musky scent that he’s come to love, and runs a hand along Erwin’s strong back, scraping his nails on purpose. He’s sated from last night and still feels floaty and disgustingly happy.

Erwin stirs, eyes still closed. “Morning,” he mumbles.

Levi’s reply is a muffled ‘hmmm’ as he buries his face deeper into the comforting touch. He throws a leg over Erwin’s larger ones under the covers and contemplates sleeping in, before something suddenly crosses his mind.

“What’s wrong?” Erwin asks, plush lips settling on the side of Levi’s head.

“It’s Saturday. We have to take out the trash.”

Erwin groans and draws Levi closer, to his vocal protest. “Can’t we do that another day?”

“And let the maggots breed? No fucking way.” Levi struggles viciously against the hold and breaks free, making his way out of the bedroom. For the lack of better things to do now that the other side of the bed is empty, Erwin reluctantly follows.

Once they’re done with the trash (Levi makes Erwin clean the bin to make up for all the times he had to do it alone), Erwin pleads. “There. Now can we go back inside and cuddle?”

 They don’t, in fact, go back inside and cuddle. Instead, Erwin finds himself with a shopping list in a grocery store, crouching in Aisle 5 searching for honey. Levi’s off somewhere to settle the other half of the list, and they agree to meet up at the check-out after twenty minutes.

They don’t get much, after all it’s only the two of them (for now, a voice in Levi’s head says). The cashier, a kid with close-shaved head scans the milk and beams cheerfully at them.

“Would you like your milk in a bag, sir?”

Levi swears he sees it; the mischievous glint in Erwin’s eyes when the cashier asks the question. He cannot anticipate yet what he’s going to say –his mind isn’t as fast as Erwin’s when it comes to this- but he knows it is going to be nothing short of a disaster. Before Levi can kick him in back of the knee in a desperate attempt to rescue their dignities, Erwin has already opened his mouth to speak.  Shit, too late. Oh well, at least the kid has to hear this too.

“No thanks, please leave it in the jug!”

 Silence.

Erwin grins.

God, Levi wants to die.

He’s so sure that almost everyone within the vicinity had heard that, because Erwin had made it a point to say it with a loud, booming voice. That only happens when he is confident enough that his joke is funny, which is why the current situation is even more painful because absolutely no one is laughing.

Or so Levi thinks.

The kid (‘Connie’, his nametag reads) starts biting his bottom lip, face contorting into a mixture of constipation and holding back a wet fart. Connie’s shoulders are shaking visibly now, grip on the bread he’s scanning tightening (RIP bread), and it’s not long before Levi realizes that he is actually stifling a laugh. A giggle or two escapes him, then all of a sudden, Connie throws his head back and roars in laughter, hitting the counter repeatedly to emphasise just how funny he found that joke. The two young ladies behind them are also covering her face with their hands, probably concealing their own giggles. Erwin is undoubtedly very pleased with himself, glancing back and forth between Connie and Levi as if saying ‘hey look at that, I’m so funny right’ but Levi is not having any of that.

He sends a piercing glare at Connie, who upon seeing Levi’s murderous face resumes scanning the items at the speed of light. They pay, grab the bags and leave the shop in record three minutes twenty seconds

“You scared him!” Erwin says disapprovingly once they reach the parking lot, loading the bags into the car.

Levi jabs Erwin in the hip sharply, reveling in Erwin’s yelp of pain. He rearranges the bags so they fit and slams the trunk shut. “And you embarrassed me.”

“Awww come on, you loved it!”

“Save your dad jokes from when you actually become one.”

Levi can almost feel the world stopping the second he says it. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to come out! He freezes up, and he wants to run away because he knows Erwin will ask about it but he’s trapped in the car

“Levi,” Erwin carefully places a hand on his thigh, a sign that he’s not gonna let this go so easily. “Are you saying you wanna have kids with me?”

“Don’t spin my words, bastard.”

“Do you?” Erwin has a small smile playing on his lips. He is now staring at him like he’s his world, bright blue eyes so fond and tender and holy shit, Levi thinks, I’m really in love with this guy.

“Maybe,” He mutters, gazing outside the window to hide his face, worried of what kind of vulnerable expression he must be doing right now. “Someday.”

After that ‘Carpark Confession’ incident (no thanks Hange for the name), Erwin is visibly more affectionate than before. He steals more kisses from Levi than the norm, and his touches linger a lot, but at least he doesn’t bring it up anymore. Levi takes that as a sign that Erwin understands that he can see them having a future together, which is definitely more than enough. A typical day in their life now goes like this:

“Hey love,” Erwin sets a cup of tea on the table, leaning down to kiss the top of Levi’s head fondly. “How’s your day?”

Levi mutters a soft ‘thanks’ and lifts the cup by the brim, bringing it close to his lips. “They changed the janitor to one that can actually do his job… at least half of the class submitted their homework… and Hange blew up only one test tube instead of the usual five. So, ‘s okay, I guess.” He takes a sip from the tea and marvels in how it’s delicious as always, just the right amount of warmth and sweetness. Erwin’s not a big fan of tea, but boy does he make a good cup.

“Mmmm,” Erwin hums in content, engrossed in reading a magazine. “I got complimented on my driving today,” he says, nonchalant.

At that, Levi’s eyes narrow. Erwin drives like he’s chasing a flight or trying to escape assassins all the time, there’s no way somebody finds that kind of road skills praiseworthy. He turns to face Erwin, who is still avoiding any eye contact. Something’s not right. “Oh really.”

“Yeah, really.” Closing the magazine, Erwin stands up in a subtle hurry that doesn’t escape Levi’s attention. He’s already halfway across the room when he continues. “They left a little note saying ‘parking fine’.”

“Erwin,” Levi growls, expression darkening. “Did you get a ticket again.”

“Oh is that what it meant?” Erwin feigns innocence, laughing nervously. “I thought they were complime--” He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before he bolts up the stairs hysterically, a fuming Levi hot on his tails.

Levi has been away from home for the past week for the annual Sina High team-building camp he’s forced to go as one of the class teachers. He’s convinced the whole bullshit is unnecessary and an utter waste of time, but Principal Pixis insisted that everyone attends and Levi wasn’t in a mood to argue.

So… a week apart from Erwin. The longest they’ve spent apart was four days, when Erwin had to go on a short business trip to Canada. One week is just three days added to that, they should be fine, right?

Right.

There’s a problem though.

He’s horny. So painfully horny.

Before he’d left for the trip, they have not been able to have much sex as Erwin’s sister was in town and had crashed at their house for a few days. So it’s really been two weeks since him and Erwin last fucked, which is downright insane considering how insatiable they both usually are.

Levi tries it with his fingers on one of the nights but it just isn’t the same. It feels good, but nothing like what Erwin offers when he slowly, carefully fingers him open, getting him ready for his cock. Erwin’s just… fills him up nicer and hits him in all the right places, and Levi is almost sobbing with frustration as he chases a weak release alone.

He gets home the next evening, thinking that he can finally get his fill of Erwin again. He opens the door ready to pounce, only to be greeted with an empty house.

Erwin’s working late again.

Levi sighs in disappointment, grudgingly heading towards their room, hoping that he will be back soon.

The rattle of keys wakes him up with a jerk. Desire and excitement coursing through his veins, Levi practically zooms down the stairs, and the instance Erwin appears at the door, Levi tackles and drags him down onto the floor, suitcase and work files be damned. They fall with a thud in a heap of tangled limbs, in the middle of the hallway that has not been swept and mopped for a week. Damn it. He should probably move this to the bedroom where it’s much more hygienic and conducive, but Levi doesn’t think he can stand another minute not having Erwin’s dick in him without spontaneously combusting.

“I’m so fucking horny right now,” Levi hisses, fingers scrambling to clumsily undo the buttons of Erwin’s black coat. He gets to the third button when Erwin chooses that moment to sit up, pressing his growing hard-on into Levi’s bottom in the process, earning a loud filthy moan from the man. “Shit, Erwin,” Levi pants, breathless.

“Levi, what’s gotten into you?” Erwin says, sliding his nimble hands under Levi’s shirt, leaving feathery touches in their wake.

“You, I hope. Preferably right now,” Levi replies, tossing away the coat haphazardly. It lands a little too close to the foot of the stairs, but he can’t care less. Ignoring Erwin’s chuckle, he tears hungrily at the tailored shirt, relishing in the sound of the buttons hitting the floor. He licks a stripe from Erwin’s collarbone down to the top of his pants, tasting the sweat on his heated flesh. “Stop laughing like an idiot and get on to it.”

Erwin is certainly more than happy to oblige. He eagerly helps rid Levi of his pants and watches in awe as Levi’s erection springs free, already red and straining for release.

“You’ve got a lot pent up,” Erwin grumbles, leaning down to blow onto the tip of Levi’s length, coaxing a grunt out of him. “Look at you… So needy like this.” He sneaks a hand behind and slips a finger into Levi’s ass, eyes widening at the realization that he’s already wet and open.

“You’re late. I had to prepare myself,” Levi gasps as Erwin reinserts his finger, playing with the rim of his entrance. His body arches in unabashed pleasure and he can’t fight the carnal urge to push back against Erwin, grinding against him frantically. “Wanted your cock so bad,” he whines.

“Fucking hell, Levi.”

Erwin surges forward to catch Levi’s lips in a frenzied kiss, never letting him go more than a few seconds as he slicks himself up and enters Levi, basking in the obscene sounds of skin hitting skin. 

Somewhere between Erwin eating his come out of Levi’s ass and Levi greedily lapping at Erwin’s spent cock, they make it to the bedroom to continue where things are left off, and after both their bodies ache delightfully from the hours and hours of incessant lovemaking, they lay together in silence, catching their breaths.

Levi is thoroughly satisfied and is about drift to a peaceful sleep when he feels Erwin’s big hand caress the back of his neck. He opens his eyes and there he is, grinning cheekily.

“Hey Levi, do you know the difference between a frog and a horny toad?” Oh no. Here it comes. “A frog says ‘ribbit, ribbit’, a horny toad says ‘rub it, rub it’.”

The smug look on his stupid face as he wiggles those godawful eyebrows makes Levi want nothing more than to rip them off and turn them into a doormat. Or a hand towel, Levi hasn’t decided yet.

For now, he settles for smacking the pillow hard into Erwin’s face, yelling at him to go to sleep.

It’s Christmas Eve, also so creatively coined ‘Levi’s Birthday Eve’ by Hange.

Levi’s busy preparing drinks in the kitchen for the party they’ll throw later tonight when his phone buzzes in his pocket, begging for attention. Thinking it’s one of the guys bailing out on the party or asking for directions, he checks it but is puzzled by the caller’s name on the screen.

It’s Erwin.

The guy is literally in the living room, setting up the table.

Levi picks up anyway, knowing that this is just one of Erwin’s demented method of flirting. He’s done this before, once or twice when he’s bored. Levi would humour him if they have the time, but the party is starting soon and they still have some preparations pending. “Why are you calling me?”

“Oh I don’t know…” Hmm, that’s strange. Erwin’s deep voice feels close, like he’s in the same room standing behind him. There’s also a nervous edge to it, which is unbecoming of the usually calm man. “Just felt like-“ Levi hears him both over the phone and in the other ear now. “-giving you a ring.”

Levi turns around sharply and sees Erwin, holding a phone in one hand and hiding the other behind him. He’s about to ask him to quit messing around when Erwin swiftly drops to one knee and holds out a box.

Levi stares, mouth agape.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Knock, knock,” Erwin says, causing Levi to frown. A knock-knock joke, really?

“Erwin what the fuck—“

“Knock. Knock.” He repeats pointedly, sounding almost completely serious if not for the sheer absurdity of the joke and the situation itself.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Levi relents. Erwin is on his knee in front of him, looking like whatever Levi says next will either make or break him, and he can’t help but to play along. “Who’s there?”

“Mary.”

Levi’s breath hitches. He knows exactly where this is going. His heart is already going at a thousand miles an hour, threatening to leap right out of his chest, and there’s a lump stuck in his throat but he somehow manages to find his voice.

“Mary who?” He says, still staring down at Erwin though his vision is getting foggy.

Erwin’s lips curve up in a gentle smile, the one that always knocks all air out of Levi’s lungs and makes him want to drop everything to be with him. “Marry me.” He takes one of Levi’s hand into his own and presses a small kiss onto the knuckles, whispering, “Please?”

It’s cheesier than the lasagna they had for lunch -and that’s saying a lot because Erwin had made it with enough mozzarella to make at least three large pizzas, urgh- and a part of him kind of hates Erwin for pulling the stunt when he least expected it, on the Christmas Eve no less. But there is nothing in the world he wants more than to have the fleeting glimpse of Erwin’s face the moment he says ‘yes’ and pulls him in for a kiss be burned into his memories forever.

Oh, Levi thinks as he looks at the clock, remembering the party that’s happening in an hour. Hange and Mike’re gonna have a field day with this.

(Two months into their married life, when Levi asks when his appointment with the dentist is and Erwin answers with a casual “tooth hurt-y”, Levi realizes that he’s stuck with a relentless, irritatingly attractive middle-aged man with a penchant for horribly amusing dad jokes.

And the best part? He wouldn’t want it any other way.)