#they won’t let any of their main characters get near even a whiff of a gay romance

[jessicawwcaww]

Need y’all to watch bridgerton so we can discuss Eloise’s obvious lesbianism and weep together when they inevitably set her up with some man

[rallamajoop]

...and the unironic joys of better living through chemistry

How do I love Venom: The Hunger, let me count the ways…

It’s by far the shippiest Venom/Eddie story to come out of the character’s heyday. It’s the only story of the era to treat Venom’s violent wild-animal instincts not as an immutable fact, but as something that can be managed. It pulls off an aesthetic like nothing else that was being done at the time.

And then there’s the way it says, Does the world around you seem sinister and foreboding? Do you lie awake at night contemplating metaphorical oceans of despair? Well shit, son – have you considered you may be suffering from a mundane neurochemical imbalance, and a round of the right meds could clear that right up for you?

It does all this without breaking the atmosphere, without a whiff that our story has been interrupted for a Very Special Message about mental health.

In the near-decade since I was first prescribed anti-depressants, I don’t think I’ve read another story that lands the message “Sometimes, it’s not you, it’s just your brain chemistry,” so well.

Fair warning: if you have not read The Hunger, I am about to spoil every major plot point. If you have, well, maybe I can still give you a new appreciation for a few details you might have missed.

It’s a strange book, whatever else you take from it. It’s almost the only thing either author or artist contributed to the Venom canon, and it’s so different stylistically and tonally from the 90′s Venom norm that it feels like a tale from some noir-elseworlds setting instead of 616 canon. When you take risks that big with a property, you leave yourself precious little landing space between 'unmitigated triumph’ and ‘abject failure’: if this book hadn’t absolutely nailed it, I’d be dismissing it as edgy, OOC dreck. Fortunately, if The Hunger is nothing else, it is a story that $&#@ing commits – to basically everything it does.

Now, I'm not going to tell you Venom: The Hunger is a story about overcoming depression, because I don't know whether author Len Kaminski even thought about it that way while working on it. There's always space for other readings, and this one take is not gospel. That said: holy shit is this thing unsubtle with its metaphors. And with that in mind, let’s start by talking a little about Kaminski’s take on Eddie himself.

As I may have mentioned before, I like to divide 90′s Eddie into two broad personas: the Meathead, and the Hobo.

Kaminski’s Eddie nominally belongs in the angsty, long-haired Hobo incarnation, but that’s a bit of a simplification: this version certainly has plenty of angst and plenty of hair to his name – but nowhere, not even at his lowest ebb, does he doubt that he and his Other are meant for each other, which is usually Hobo!Eddie’s primary existential quandary.

He’s also taken up narrating his own life like a hardboiled PI.

So that’s... novel.

The only other time Eddie’s sounded like this is, er, in that one other Venom one-shot Kaminski penned (Seed of Darkness, a prequel that sadly isn’t in The Hunger’s league), so I think we can safely file it under authorial ticks.

Then again, Hobo!Eddie’s always been one melodramatic SOB, so maybe this is just how he’d sound after learning to channel his angst into his poetry. You can’t argue it fits the aesthetic, anyway.

We’d also be remiss not to mention Ed Halsted’s art, which I can only describe as gothic-meets-noir-meets-H.R.-Giger. Never before or since has the alien symbiote looked this alien: twisted with Xenompoph-like ridges and veins.

But Halsted doesn’t treat Venom to all that extra detail in every panel. Instead, the distortion tends to appear when the symbiote is separated from Eddie or out of control – and I doubt you need me to walk you through the symbolic importance of that creative decision. More importantly, Halsted’s art provides exactly the class of visuals that Kaminski’s story needs.

Did I mention this is a horror story? You might be surprised how few Venom stories really fit that genre, but if all those adjectives about Halsted’s style above didn’t clue you in, this is one of them.

Anyway, with that much context covered, let’s get into the main narrative of this thing.

As our first issue opens, Eddie’s world has become a dark and foreboding place. He’s not sleeping, though he mostly brushes this off. (Fun fact: trouble sleeping is one of those under-appreciated symptoms of depression. Additional fun fact: the first doctor ever to suggest I might be suffering from depression was actually a sleep specialist. You can guess how that appointment was going.)

Just to set our scene, here’s all of page 1.

Eddie’s narration has plenty of (ha) venom for his surroundings, but the visuals are here to back him up: panels from Eddie’s POV are edged in twisted, fleshy borders and drained of colour, the people rendered as creepy, goblin-like creatures. A couple of later scenes go even further to contrast Eddie-vision with what everyone else is seeing:

As depictions of depression go this is a little on the nose, but then, you don’t read a comic about a brain-eating alien parasite looking for subtlety, do you?

Eddie  doesn’t see himself as depressed, of course. As far as he’s concerned, he’s seeing the world’s true face: it’s everyone else who’s deluding themselves. He’s still got his symbiote, so he’s happy. He’s yet to hit that all-important breaking point where something he can’t brush off goes irrevocably wrong.

But he’s also starting to experience these weird... cravings.

He just can’t put a name to exactly what he’s craving until a routine bar fight with a couple of thugs takes a turn for the horrific.

(I include this panel partly to point out even in The Hunger, the goriest of all 90′s Venom titles, you’re still not going to see brains getting eaten in any graphic detail. We don’t need to to get the horror of the moment across. The 90′s were a more innocent time.)

Eddie himself is horrified when he comes back to himself and realises what he’s done.

Or rather, what his symbiote’s just made him do.

Kaminski doesn’t keep us in suspense about why, though. Eddie may have just done something horrific, but there’s a reason, and it’s as mundane as a vitamin deficiency. He’s bonded to an alien creature, after all, and his symbiote is craving a nutrient which just happens to be found in human brains. And if Eddie can’t or won’t help it meet that need, it’ll do so alone. 

Now, giving us that explanation so quickly is an interesting creative decision: this is a horror story, and horror lives in what we don’t know. Wouldn’t it be all the more horrifying had the symbiote been unable to explain what’s going on, leaving Eddie without the first real clue as to where this monstrous new hunger had come from?

The Hunger doesn’t take that route though, and I love it. Eddie isn’t a monster, this isn’t his fault: he has a fucking condition, and wallowing in his own moral failings is going to get him nowhere. You might as well try to cure scurvy or rickets with positive thinking. Just like depression can make you feel like an utter failure at the most basic parts of being human, and all the affirmations in the world won’t fix it when it’s fundamentally your brain chemistry that’s the problem. Or like addicts aren’t weak-willed for struggling not to relapse, they’re dealing with genuine chemical dependency – or even like how someone who’s trans isn’t at fault for being unable to reconcile themselves to the bodies and the hormones they were born with by pure force of trying. Free will is more than an illusion, but we’re all messy, biological organisms underneath, and your own brain and biochemistry can and will fuck you over in a hundred wildly different ways for as many wildly different reasons and it’s not your fault.

We aren’t monsters. But if we do, sometimes, find ourselves identifying with the monster, there might be a reason for that.

(Ahem)

I’m just saying, that’s fucking powerful, and we need more stories that say it.

Anyway, in case you missed it during that tangent, issue #1 closes with the symbiote having torn Eddie’s heart in two itself free to go hunting brains without him.

I’m trying not to get too sidetracked at this point talking about Kaminski’s take on the symbiote itself. Suffice to say there are broadly two schools of thought on how it ought to function while separated from its host: the traditional ambulatory-slime-puddle version, and the more recently popular alternative where anything-you-can-do-with-a-host-you-can-also-do-without-one. I’m not much of a fan of the latter, personally: if your symbiote doesn’t actually need a host, I feel you’ve sort of missed the point. (The movie takes the route of saying symbiotes can’t even process Earth’s atmosphere without a host, which is a great new idea that appears nowhere in the comics, and I love it. Hosts or GTFO, baby!)

Kaminski has his own take, and I can only wish it had caught on. Without Eddie, the symbiote becomes an ever-shifting insectoid-tentacle-snake-monstrosity, driven by an animalistic hunger. It’s many things, but it’s never humanoid.

If you absolutely must have your symbiote operating minus a host, I feel this is the way to do it: semi-feral, shapeless and completely alien (uncontrollable violence and cravings for brains to be added to taste).

Issue #2 comes to us primarily through the perspective of the mild-mannered Dr. Thaddeus Paine of the Innsmouth Hills Sanitarium (yes, really).

Yeah, he’s not fooling anyone. Meet our official villain! He joins our story after Eddie is picked up by the police and handed off to the nearest available institution, on account of how completely sane and rational he’s been acting.

Naturally, Dr. Paine soon has copious notes on Eddie’s ‘crazy’ story about his psychic link to a brain-eating alien monster. Fortunately for Eddie, Paine also runs some tests and makes an interesting discovery. 

Congratulations, Venom: the ‘vitamin’ you were missing officially has a name!

Finding the right meds isn’t always this easy. I got lucky – the first ones my psych put me on worked pretty well – but I have plenty of friends who weren't so lucky. In fact, the treatment for Eddie's problems is so straightforward it arguably has more in common with, say, endocrine disorders like thyroid conditions or Addison’s disease, which differ from clinical depression but present many similar symptoms (but can sadly be just as much of a bitch to get correctly diagnosed – please do read author Maggie Stiefvater’s account of the latter when you get the chance, because forget Venom, that is a horror story).

‘True’ depression remains much less well understood by medicine, either in its causes or how to effectively treat it. But simply having a name for what was wrong with me made so much difference, and that’s an experience I imagine anyone who’s dealt with any long undiagnosed medical condition could relate to. It put my life in context in a way nothing else had in years.

(I can’t speak to the accuracy of the way phenethylamine is portrayed in this comic – a quick google suggests there may be some real debate that phenethylamine deficiencies have been overlooked as a contributor to clinical depression, but having no medical background, that one’s well beyond me. Either way, scientific accuracy really doesn’t matter in this context – it’s how it works in-universe for story purposes that we should pay attention to.)

Since this issue is mostly from Paine’s POV, we don’t get Eddie’s reaction to having a healthy amount of phenethylamine sloshing around in his brain again, just the assurance that treatment appears to be ‘completely successful’.

He’s still a paranoid, hostile bastard though. Meds can turn your life around, but they won’t make you not you.

But even if Eddie’s feeling better, he’s still psychically linked to someone who isn’t. Symbiote-vision still comes through drained of colour and edged in viscera.

That’s the thing about meds: they won’t solve all your problems overnight. If you’ve been depressed for a while, there are good odds you have problems stacking up. But working meds can be a godsend when it comes to getting you into a space where you can deal with your problems again, whether said problems are doing-your-laundry or all the way into not-giving-up-completely-and-just-accepting-you’ll-die-alone-on-the-street.

For Eddie, ‘dealing with his problems’ begins with stealing a keycard and busting out of the asylum.

Of course, that’s the easy part. How do you solve a problem like a feral symbiote? Like any good 90′s comic book protagonist, Eddie tackles it by putting on his big-boy camouflage pants and kitting himself out with weapons and pouches while quoting “If you live something, set it free. If it doesn’t come back, hunt it down.”

We can add this to the list of things I love about this comic. Even if The Hunger is a weirdly-stylistic tract about depression at heart, it’s also still a goddamn 90′s Venom comic, and not ashamed to be.

We’re into issue #3 now, and back to hearing the story from Eddie’s POV.

Eddie is very much aware that his symbiote has murdered innocent people while they’ve been separated. Even if this is the result of extreme circumstances, there’s a good case to be made that the symbiote is too dangerous to be allowed to live. Plenty of heroes would treat it like a rabid dog at this point.

But Eddie isn’t a hero, he’s a mess of a character and an anti-hero at best, so we don’t have to hold him to the same standard. He’s well aware his symbiote may be too far gone to save, that he may have to put it down – but that’s only his backup plan. He wants to help it. He wants it back. He’s down in that sewer with screamers and a flamethrower because he knows all his symbiote’s weaknesses, but he’s also carrying a large jar of black-market synthesised phenethylamine, because if he can just get close enough...

Depression can’t make you a literal monster, but it can make you an asshole. Miserable to be around, lacking even the energy to care who else you’re hurting. The depression doesn’t excuse that, but it makes everything harder, and it’s that much easier to sink back into your spiral when everyone around you has given up. It can make you think everyone around has given up even if that isn’t true.

So to have Eddie here say, in effect, I don’t care how many people you’ve eaten, I know it wasn’t your fault. I still love you. You’re still worth fighting for – god, does that get me right in the id.

There’s still a whole issue left at this point – we’ve still got to deal with our real villain, Dr. Paine, who we’ve just learned is into eating brains himself and torturing his patients recreationally, and who wants to capture the symbiote for his own purposes. There’s the scene where Eddie and his symbiote finally bond again, and Venom beats up all Paine’s goons while singing David Bowie because like I said, this is still a 90′s superhero comic and this is what Venom does.

But for our purposes, I'm going to skip to the penultimate page of the story, because the way it mirrors our opening page is really lovely.

Remember that shot of Eddie dealing with a beggar back at the beginning of the story, thinking about how these people would 'get their despair all over you'? Here he is again, cheerfully forking over the last dollar in his pocket to the next man to ask him for change. For all the gothic atmosphere and gore, it’s moments like this that make The Hunger easily one of the most positive, uplifting Venom stories ever written. Funny, that. (I could probably write a whole other essay on sympathy for the homeless as a recurring motif in Venom stories, but that... well, whole other essay and all that.)

What’s Eddie learned from this experience? Don’t take your symbiote for granted. Is ‘symbiote’ a metaphor for mental health here, is paying attention to its needs an allegory for paying attention to your own? I still don’t know how literally Kaminski meant us to take this, but it’s a lovely note to end on no matter how you parse it.

At the end of the day, The Hunger isn’t flawless. The conflict with Paine ends on a thematic but slightly unsatisfying note. Eddie makes much of his symbiote's loneliness and desire for union, but when the two of them are finally reunited, the only reaction comes from Eddie's side. In fact, the symbiote seems to have no response to being able to return to Eddie at all, and that’s an omission that bugs me.

But Kaminski is more interested than any other writer of the era in the truly alien nature of the symbiote, in its relationship with Eddie from Eddie’s side, and though plenty of others talk about the symbiote's love/hate relationship with Spider-man, no-one else had the guts to portray their relationship this much like a romance.

And Venom: The Hunger is no less interesting in the context of Len Kaminski’s other work. You don't have to look far into his Marvel and DC credits to pick up that the guy has a real thing for monsters. (“All of my favourite characters are outlaws, misfits, anti-heroes,” he says, in one of the very few interviews I could find with him, “I wouldn't know what to do with Superman.”) He's written for vampires, werewolves, victims of mad science, and all of three at once, littering his work with biochemistry-themed technobabble, melodramatic monologues, gratuitous pop-culture references, and protagonists who must learn to embrace their inner demons. So The Hunger represents more than a few of his favourite running themes.

For our context, his more notable other work includes Children of the Beast, in which a werewolf must make peace between his human and animalistic sides, and The Creeper, in which a journalist must make peace with the crazy super-powered alter-ego sharing his body. In fact, The Creeper and The Hunger share so much DNA (including an evil doctor posing as a respected psychiatrist who uses hypnosis on our hero while he's trapped in a mental institution) that it’s quite the achievement that they still feel like such very distinct entities beyond that point.

The human alter-egos of both werewolf and Creeper even use prescription meds while wrestling with their respective dark sides. The difference, in both cases, is that these are stories where meds play their traditional fictional role – and that's a role that could be as easily filled by illegal drugs or alcohol without making any substantive difference. You see, if a protagonist is using them, it's a sign of unwillingness to tackle their 'real' problems. Even among work by the same author in the same genre, The Hunger represents an outlier. And that's just a little disappointing – at least to me.

In real life, of course, prescription meds are no magical cure-all elixir. Depression meds that work for one person may not work for another, or may not keep working in the longer term. Everyone has heard stories about quack doctors who prescribe them to the wrong patients for the wrong reasons, about lives ruined by addictions to prescription painkillers, or the supposedly-damning statistics about how poorly SSRI's perform in rigorous clinical trials. The proper way to treat depression is obviously with lifestyle and therapy. People will still airily dismiss medications that we all know previous generations got along just fine without, or suggest that figures like Van Gogh would never have created great art if they hadn't been mad enough to slice off an ear. I mean, the fact you think you need those bogus mediations is probably the best possible sign of just how broken you are, right? Who do you think you’re kidding?

Our popular fiction loves stories about manly men who bury their trauma under a gruff, anti-social exterior and come back swinging at the world that broke them, bravely refusing even painkillers that might dull their manly reflexes. Other genres make space for broken people confronting their demons in grand moments of catharsis, finally breaking down into tears when someone gets through to make them face their problems. "I could barely make it out of bed in the mornings until I found a doctor who started me on this new prescription" is not only wildly counter to the accepted social narrative, it's a hard thing to know how to dramatise.

 Even other Venom comics have been guilty of this.

Believe me, I recognise all of this, and just how much progress we've made in the last few decades. But I haven't the slightest doubt that for so many vulnerable people, the stigma against prescription medications does infinitely more harm than those same meds could ever do. And just having the right to externalise my problems into it's not you, it's your brain chemistry, may have helped me more than the meds themselves.

(And again, no, being prescribed SSRI's didn't fix me overnight, but I honestly don't know if all the talk therapy and tearful conversations with family members in the world could've got me as far as I've come without them.)

I love Venom: The Hunger. It's no-one's idea of high art, but it doesn’t need to be. There is a whole other post’s worth of things I love about it that I’ve already cut out this one as pointless tangents, and that may actually be it’s biggest drawback as a go-to example: I fully recognise that I would not be making this post if The Hunger hadn't also also grabbed me as a great bit of Venom canon, being the massive fan and shipper that I am. Other people who are just as desperate as me for more stories with the same core theme, but not into weird 90's comics about needy goo aliens, probably won't get nearly as much out of it as I have.

But if it sounds anything like your jam, maybe you'll enjoy it as much as I did.

If nothing else, it proves that you can make a viscerally satisfying story out of a message that shockingly unconventional. And you may even have people still discovering it and falling in love with it 25 years after the fact.

[dreamdropxoxo]

Omg if you're still taking prompts, i would LOVE an omegaverse au where damen realizes laurent is pregnant during kr!! Can be either right before the okton, right after, at the trial, whatever, just smth w pregnant laurent during kings rising and people realizing it

Hello and thank you so much for your prompt. I had a blast writing this short story. Honestly, I almost forgot how much I liked writing Omegaverse :)

I hope you like the result :) I was very happy that I could write it, so thank you for that! I also think it has the potential for a longer story but unfortunately I am to tied up by my other long-term projects that I won’t be able to start another one soon. :( 

Whatever, here is what I came up with (please keep in mind that the original work is written by the incredible C.S. Pacat and I don’t own any of the characters or of the universe (I also pilfered some of the original lines)):

Damen couldn't really explain his sudden urge to smoother Laurent in his arms. Half of the time, he wasn't even sure if he liked the git. It made absolutely no sense to him, but his instincts screamed at him to not let the blond man out of his eyes, or even better, his reach.

True, Laurent was damn attractive, gorgeous even, everybody would agree with that. Even Nikandros, who hated him even more after he had realized what Laurent had done to his king, had admitted in a drunken stupor that the omega was beautiful beyond measures.

Damen's back looked horrible, he knew it himself but he could also admit that Laurent had had his reasons. Cruel as they might be.

However, the instinctive urges explained at least why Damen's blood froze when Makedon demanded for Laurent to ride in the okton. Was the man out of his bloody mind? Damen couldn't really justify the wish for Makedon's swift death, but it was undeniably prominent in the forefront of his thoughts as he scrambled for words, a reason for Laurent's absence on the field, anything really.

"Veretians do not train in the okton," he said finally, it sounded weak an argument even to his own ears. Yet, he couldn't really reason with the fact that Laurent was an omega, because if he did, he didn't know how Laurent would take retribution, but it was undebatable that he would. Damen wasn't fool enough to risk that.

"In Akielos, the okton is known as the sport of kings. Our own King will take the field. Does the Prince of Vere lack the courage to ride against him?"

Damn it, Damen wanted to place his fist in smug visage of his general. Makedon knew that it was impossible for Laurent to refuse now. He was already looked upon with condescension from most of the alphas in their joined forces, he couldn't afford to refuse.

And he wouldn't. Damen needed just one look at his face and he knew that Laurent would agree, out of his foolish pride, and sharp mind. Because Laurent knew better than anyone else what they had to loose and he knew that the people gathered needed to acknowledge him just as much as they did Damen.

Suddenly, he wished for a different world. He wished for a world, where Laurent wouldn't need to prove himself worth of following and recognition just because he was not the warrior Damen was or his brother had been. A world, where Laurent's secondary gender wouldn't limit him in the ways it did.

He risked a glance at Laurent, hoping that his outstanding mind would be able to somehow sidestep, he didn’t want him on the field. He would give almost anything to keep Laurent here, keep him safe and that was rather startling an insight. 

The omega beside him, though, didn’t even try. “Why not?” said Laurent and this made Damen’s stomach lurch. He needed all of his self-restrain to stop himself from dragging the blond man to the side and just straight out tie him up to keep him away from the course. 

He couldn’t pinpoint the source of this feeling exactly. He just knew that there was a very faint, sweet smell in the air. It was mouthwatering to Damen. It came from Laurent. And it was the main reason he wanted Laurent nowhere near the okton course.

He balled his hands on his thighs. He had scented the sweetness coming from Laurent before on another person and it confused him. He couldn’t remember when exactly that was. The implications lost on him. The only positive thing was that he would be there too. Maybe he could keep Laurent from the worst. It was just wishful thinking, if something happened, he had no choice but to watch it happen.

***

Laurent’s spears were tipped in blue. It was fitting. Damen tried not to think about what they were about to do. He was nauseates, his inner alpha pushed him to keep Laurent back, to not let him ride. His skin itched with the struggle from keeping himself back.

Laurent, he knew, was good at riding. He was not only good, he was outstanding and Damen knew that. This knowledge didn’t keep him from fretting. What if something happened to Laurent? The alliance would be over, all their struggles would have been for naught, he would never be able to explore the potential of their tentative relationship. 

This last thought was something that surprised Damen in its vehemence. He realized that he wanted to get to know Laurent better, he wanted the chance to court the other man properly, he wanted a future with Laurent. The one night together was not enough. 

All of that meant nothing in the face of the okton. Men died during the okton. Damen almost sickened up, only the focus on the impending challenge kept him from swaying on his horse.

Suddenly, he remembered Laurent’s scent with such a vividness it caught him off guard. He had smelt the mouthwatering omega scent only once, Laurent’s control otherwise impenetrable. Through their night it had surrounded him, made his head swim and convinced him of their compatibility. He knew that Laurent could bring him to his knees with a whiff of his scent. 

He was almost grateful that Laurent kept his scent under iron control. He wouldn’t be able to talk to him without thinking of fucking him, otherwise. Not that it wasn’t already challenging enough without Laurent’s scent added to the mix.

Damen’s focus was almost forcefully dragged back to Laurent. He catalogued every single micro movement from the Omega at the front of the line. The blond man sat relaxed and securely in the saddle. He didn’t look fazed or nervous. His face was concentrated and self-assured. 

However, there was something else, he couldn’t put his finger on. He couldn’t keep himself from breathing in deeply, although he knew that he wouldn’t smell Laurent in the slight breeze. But his nose caught something else. There was this sweet scent again, coming from the omega. It made his head spin.

He saw Laurent assessing the course. He was clinical in his observations and Damen wished he knew what Laurent was thinking in that moment. His whole focus on the other man. 

Then it hit him. He almost bolted towards the omega. The urge to leap out of the saddle overwhelming and desperate. He wanted to shout, demand that they stop. He wanted to rage and imprison Makedon for even suggesting Laurent should ride today.

But then Laurent already rode out on the field. Damen couldn‘t admire his prone form, his flawless control or his effortless grace, because he felt so faint he almost fell from his mount. Gods, he felt the bile rise. The cold terror had him almost missing how Laurent hit a perfect bullseye. 

He missed entirely how Pallas rode out. The fear gripping his heart incapacitating him of rational thought. But he needed to concentrate. He couldn’t afford a single slip up, not when it could mean that he somehow hit Laurent. 

When the third horn sounded he flung his horse into a gallop. Trying to block out the noise, earsplitting in its intensity, trying to forget that on one of the horses sat Laurent, the omega he wanted to court, the omega pregnant with his child.

As soon as he thought it, it was as if someone had his heart in an icy grip. The coldness spread through his body. He felt numb and he almost looked at Laurent. Only the danger of accidentally causing a mishap kept him from doing so. 

After the first course he allowed himself a glimpse towards the omega. He was still just as composed as when he sat at the dais with him some hours before. He also realized that Laurent dealt with the danger of the okton by simply behaving as though it did not exist. 

Damen admired him for it but at the same time he wanted to drag him from his horse and shake him before snogging him senseless. He wanted to wrap him up in silk and satin and keep him save. He wanted to worship his body from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. 

He compelled his focus back to the course. Pallas, Laurent and he himself had yet to miss a shot. Aktis and Lydos were no real competition. It was extraordinary enough for three riders to ride a flawless okton. 

They thundered into the final circuit. The mistake, which finally broke their graceful ride, was one that anyone could have made. It was a simple miscalculation and it stopped Damen’s heart. Aktis threw his spear too early, which caused the target to collapse.

Lydos and Pallas both lost their spears. Time seemed to stand still as Damen watched Lydos’ spear soar through the air in Laurent’s direction. It was going to hit either Pallas or Laurent and Damen couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blond omega. Even when he realized that Pallas’ spear aimed for him.

Instinct reacted before thought. He caught it out of the air, his hand closing hard around the shaft, the momentum of it wrenching his shoulder back. The crowd exploded into noise as he absorbed the force of the throw and tightened his grip with his thighs to stay upright. 

However, his whole focus was on the other end of the field, on Laurent and the spear flying towards him. The blood froze in his veins. The only thought he had was that he couldn’t loose this, couldn’t loose Laurent, not now. The blind panic immobilized him, forced him to watch what would inevitably happen next.

He could see Pallas shocked face and he knew the impossible choice the younger alpha faced. Either he saved his own life at the expense of Laurent’s, a Prince and more importantly an omega or he died right there and would be celebrated as a brave and honorable alpha. And, worse even, Pallas didn’t even know that Laurent carried the next heir to the Akielon and Veretian throne. Damen, however, knew, he knew and he prayed to every deity out there that Pallas wouldn’t move out of the way.

He knew it was a horrible thought to have. He also knew that it changed everything. He realized that Pallas wouldn’t ever move out of the way because it’s what they were waiting for their whole life. Fighting to protect others and giving their lives for the greater good. Pallas, who was one of the best, despite his young age, would never be able to put Laurent in danger.

Damen could see that Laurent knew it too. It shouldn’t surprise him anymore. He already knew that Laurent was exceptionally perceptive. He had seen the collapse of the target early on, and that had given him the time necessary to react. 

The prince acted without a seconds hesitation. Laurent leaped from his horse, a feat almost impossible with the momentum he still had from the ride, and jumped into the path of the spear as he launched himself for Pallas’ horse, stirring their course to the left. 

Laurent pushed Pallas down as the spear sailed past them. Damen watched in stunned amazement how Laurent picked up Pallas’ last spear and threw it at the last target. Hitting bullseye. He completed the okton with a perfect score and Damen couldn’t really decide if he wanted to fuck him right there, in the middle of the arena or if he would prefer to drag him away to his chambers and have his wicked way with him.

When Laurent’s eyes met his gaze across the course with an obvious challenge in them, Damen grinned. Dizzy with relief and overwhelming confusion. He threw the spear he had caught across the full, incredible length of the field. Sent it flying right into the centre of the final target, where it rested, quivering.

Pandemonium.

[valwrite]

O1 pride / shock; andre layton series

general masterlist

series masterlist

series taglist: @gollyderek @fanfic-addict-98 @lets-love-little-me

summary:  hell has frozen over and, in it’s place, snowpiercer has emerged. it’s many carriages carry secrets: affairs, murders, betrayals. and that’s only mentioning andre layton’s secrets. when a serial killer appears, detective layton is called on to the case. though reluctant at first, he agrees to take on the case when he discovers the first victim is rumored to be a once Tallie, an ex-coworker, an ex-lover: Y/N L/N. what starts as a hunt for her killer quickly becomes a hunt for the truth behind her suspicious death. the tail is uprising; his ex-wife is back in his line of sight; all eyes of the train are on him; and all andre layton can focus on is finding Y/N L/N’s body.

series warnings:  angst, character death, smut, infidelity.

chapter warnings: mentions of suicide, details of murder.

fic style: series.

word count: 4292.

author’s note: apologies for the delayed posting of this, i was on holiday and forgot to queue this post. the first chapter follows very closely the actual series but, the following chapters deviate and will follow their own plot, whilst still maintaining some of the show’s main plots. as always, any feedback is welcomed.

Of all the things Andre Layton had thought about when it came to life further up the train, smell was the last thing he'd ever considered.

Crouched over on the floor, he takes in a whiff of the air. There's no thickness to this air, unlike the Tail's air. There is no stench of sweat; or blood; or tears mixed in with the breath he takes. The air in the Tail tells a story of it's inhabitants struggle for survival, all the daily hardships they endure leaving behind a foul stench the Tailies had grown to find comforting. This air is clean. Perhaps a little too clean, the faintest hint of bleach is tickling at his nose. He knows from experience what the smell of bleach could be covering up but pushes those thoughts to the side, preferring to live in blissful ignorance for just this one breath.

His head is pounding, the very first headache he's had since, well, he's forgotten how long it's been, actually. There's always the thought of how maybe the headache is chronic in the Tail, never ending and, therefore, never beginning, bringing Andre to a numbness when faced with such pain. But it's been hours now since he had been forced out of his home, perhaps the quiet consumed him enough to remind him of a life without noise and headaches, only to snatch the rug out from beneath his feet and hand him the worst one he'd dealt with.

Andre's in disbelief still. He knows the Tail is in chaos. The chaos is what kept them all alive, what will continue keeping them all alive. But, uptrain? He's always assumed they were tranquil. What he's quickly discovering is that, while tranquility may have been the surface layer, if someone even begins to dig just slightly, they'd very easily stumble upon savage beasts wearing sheep's clothing. The Tail may very well be a dark and difficult place to live but all of it's travelers had learnt long ago to find empathy in each other, working together rather than just for themselves.

A murder has taken place. Well, actually, two. Possibly three, from the way Officer Till had been arguing in hushed whispers with her superior earlier on, after Andre took a few beatings from the British officer, who's name began with O and ended in asshole. The death tally isn't his main focus either way, rather the job they are attempting to enforce on him is.

It's not like he doesn't understand why or how they came to the decision of requesting - he believes they were more demanding - his services. They have a potential serial killer on the loose and they claim he's the only one on the train with experience in such a field. Of course they were going to come knocking on his door. Only, he's not technically the only one on board with familiarity of crime scenes, just the only detective. And, see, if it weren't for the fact he'd spent however many years has passed watching how the upper class men on the train came and stole food, medicine, life from the Tail, then maybe he would have been a little more giddy about stepping back into Detective Layton's shoes. Alas, they'd made their beds and it was about time they started to lay in it, because they weren't about to get any help from him.

For all he cared, the killer could have at them all till there was no one left but the Tailies. They were the only ones good for anything on Snowpiercer.

"So, you got a body?" Andre stares up at the Brakeman- Doshe? No, no, Roche! - and the voice of the train, the woman who'd introduced herself but he'd tuned out her name. He doesn't need to know the name of the woman who spoke for Mr. Wilford. It was bad enough the man had been too coward to ever properly address the Tail by making a physical appearance, never mind the fact he won't even speak to them over the announcer. He sometimes imagined Mr. Wilford, with a pot belly and a whitened beard, surrounded by nothing but lavish. "Good for you, keep it for yourself, like everything else you lot have."

"This killer is taking lives on board this train." The train's voice starts up again, staring down at him with not a wrinkle of emotion behind her callous eyes. He's met a few women like her in his life, who's eyes remained devoid and near lifeless even when faced with some of the most horrific acts a person could do. "Like it or not, you're a member of this train and-"

"That's the problem with your lot, the Tail's only part of the train when it's convenient to you."

"The tail was always part of the train, just not it's inhabitants." Roche fires out, his brows furrowed and he uncrosses his arms. "The rest of us payed to be here, as workers or as passengers."

"That means my people deserve to pay with their life?" He can feel himself becoming more riled up by the minute, the pain from his previous beating being pushed to a side as he contemplates the repercussions of brawling with the older man. 

"Roche, that's enough." Melanie interrupts them, stepping in the way of Roche and giving Andre no choice but to stare back at her empty eyes. Upon further observation, he catches the first sign of humanity in her. The bags under her eyes, subtle yet there. Dark, wrinkled, pillowy. It seems that exhaustion unites them both, even if their reasons for it are worlds away from similar. "The people on this train need security, Layton. If they found out there's a serial killer on board, the classes would break out in chaos-"

"You seem awfully sure there's only one killer and not just a copycat." A serial killer requires a minimum of three bodies. They has two. Andre wonders if this Melanie woman is unaware of such a technicality and had used the term flippantly, or if there is another body, a third body, he's being kept unaware of. If so, who? And, why?

"All of this, everything Mr. Wilford has worked so hard to keep in order and working, will have been for nothing if we can't maintain the peace. I'm not going to beg for your help, Layton, but just know you'd be saving us all. Including the Tail. You're the only one on board experienced with this."

"Guess the rich didn't consider the fact they'd start killing their own."

"So, will you help?"

This was the question Andre has been asking himself from the moment they'd stripped him away from the Tail; from his people; from his family. He knew, from the second the blonde haired woman had called out his name and butchered their plans for attack, that there was something they wanted from him. It was the same for anyone else who got called up train, there was something needed from a Tailie and it was never something good. 

He can perfectly picture the faces of the Tail all staring back at him as he demanded to be taken back, armed men using all the strength they could summon to pull him out of the way of the closing doorway. Some looked on in horror, fearing for his life under the watchful eyes of the rich. Others gave him nothing but betrayal and anger in their eyes, as if they seemed to believe he'd orchestrated everything to have himself rescued from the Tail. Maybe, Andre wonders, some of them believe Zarah had it planned out, especially after leaving the Tail herself. Perhaps there was someone else they thought had saved him, someone who'd only recently left the Tail. 

If Andre were to choose between being rescued by Zarah or her, Zarah's name wouldn't even begin to cross his mind.

The Tail is angry with him, he knows that for sure. By pure luck, they'd seemed to elect him as their leader, even if they worked as a united force and not an army. If he wants a chance to repair any damage caused to his people, his only real hope is to find his way back home and stay there, until he can charge onward with the Tailies and claim the train for themselves. Leaving the killer out in their playground of terror may just assist him in collapsing the fragile system of the train.

"No." Finally, he has his answer and it pleases him to hear the confidence in his voice, the pride he has for his status as a Tailie shinning brighter than ever before. 

"No?" The train's voice echoes as Roche simply shakes his head behind the woman, muttering some intangible curse under his breath.

"You heard me. Solve your own shit."

She pulls back from him, turning her back to now face Roche and though Andre can hear both their voices speaking in whispers, he can not make out exactly what they are saying. She'd walked out of the small room before he can even register what's happening and Roche has him standing back up onto his feet, a hand firmly grasping at his forearm whilst he carelessly shoves him back into the hall of the train. 

The quiet settles in again and Andre's fleeting attention sinks into memories from life before the cold, a fairly common habit of his which seems to be happening more than usual as of late, since she'd left the Tail much like she'd left him at the park, and the sight of the mutilated body he'd been brought out to investigate which brought back every memory of every case he'd taken on.  

In this current memory, Andre walked into an apartment. 

The room was trashed, with smashed glass and flipped furniture scattered all over the place. Upon first look, he suspected a robbery gone wrong. All around him, officers pulled him each and every way, all sharing their tid-bits of information regarding the on-going investigation, from suspects to who'd discovered the body to begin with.

The body. God, he hadn't even seen it yet but there's already that sinking feeling settling in his gut, the feeling that arrived every time he witnessed another crime scene. It was comforting to him, though disturbing, that such a thing could still rattle his bones and disturb his soul, the overexposure to it not making it any easier to deal with. Andre enjoyed the fact he had an emotional response still, the very thing that proved he was very much human beyond his detective work.

The sinking feeling grew when he saw the victim. A young woman, probably no older than his Zarah, who he liked to think was smiling; or laughing; or simply breathing and alive as he viewed the sight of that deceased woman. There were marks all down her left arm and blood on her fingertips, suggesting a chance that the victim struggled and fought for her right to live. It' was only one bullet wound, right between her eyes, yet that one simple wound ended an entire life. Killed any future, diluted any past and destroyed any present the victim had. 

But there was someone else in the room with him, another woman, though that one was breathing. Her hands were covered by medical gloves and she was crouching by the victim, a pair of tweezers in her hand as she picked at something in the victims hand. 

"Who are you?" She jumped at the sound of his voice, staring up at him with a look of discontent and frustration.

"You made me drop the DNA sample, dude. Not cool." She went back to her tweezers work. "I'm the department's new forensic scientist, Y/N L/N. I take it you are detective Layton?"

"I am." He nodded his head once, taking out his notepad and pen as their task at hand came barreling to the front of his mind, reminding him of the fact there was a very clear murder  victim between the two of them. "What do we know of the victim so far?"

They had made their way down a hatchet hole, with Roche in the lead and Andre a few steps behind, cuffed and with his head held high. His hair brushes gently against his back, a strangely comforting repeat of motion that accompanies his less than pleasant travels throughout the train's cabins. 

"You gotta take me back to the Tail, man." He pleads after Roche announces he's not heading home but, rather, to the man's holding cell. There was a time where it was Andre Layton who would be the one dumping someone in a holding cell whilst proclaiming he would be returning home to his wife, but now he had no wife; and no cell; and no badge that mirrored his past. "The Tail's all I got in the world."

The lead Brakeman does nothing but shake his head in response and Andre sighs, tired of fighting but nowhere near ready to give up. 

They're plunged into chaos suddenly, sirens echoing up the train as Andre feels himself be stripped away from Roche and slammed full force into the metal caging surrounding him. The fresh bruising on his ribs screams in pain but Andre only hisses, his teeth clenching to bite back the grunt of anger begging to escape him. A man, around the same age as Roche and the same stature as himself, stares back at him with pure hatred. He's dressed in blue armor gear and his knuckles are turning whiter as his grip on Andre's collar tightens. And when he speaks, he spits every word out: "Now we've got a hostage, too."

Even in times of utter devastation, mankind finds a way to create division between themselves. In his life before the weather changed, he was targeted for the color of his skin. Now, he's also chased after for his status on the train. A filthy Tailie. 

"Commander! Let him go." The voice of the train comes from nowhere and everywhere all at once, and Andre is actually glad to see her when he feels the grip on him dissappear. 

"The Tailies have revolted again." The small mouthed women, who Miles refers to as the Executioner but is actually named Ruth, speaks next. 

"Yes. Mr. Wilford is aware."

"Look, whoever they are, I know 'em, okay?" He steps in, hoping to bargain with them. This may be his only chance to both save the Tailies and prove his loyalty to them. "I can help."

"Things are going too far with him-" Ruth's irritating voice pipes up again. 

"Please." He continues nonetheless, focusing only on the voice of the train, who he'd heard be referred to as Melanie. "They'll listen to me."

The Commander is the one to lead him to the Tailies. His grip on Andre is tighter than before and it feels purposeful when he shoves his side into the wall. His Irish accent is distinct enough to remind Andre that he and this man have history, from the initial revolts started by the Tailies, where they fought to keep the very small space of the Tail. Many were lost in the war but it wasn't in vain, it helped the Tailies learn to rely on each other and be a family.

"You've got three minutes." The Commander gives him one last shove, right into a masked soldier's shoulder. 

He's only in the doorway and already Andre can see just how much damage his people have done. It's what they'd been training and waiting to do for so long, he never imagined they'd fail. Bodies lay all over the place, some of Tailies but most of them soldiers. Blood splatter paints the wall in red and lights are flickering at the end of the hall. His people had fought hard. They'd now need to fight harder, once he revealed his very hazy plan to them.

"Tailies! Who's left?" He listens to his own voice echo down the train. "It's Layton."

It takes no more than a second for a familiar voice to chime in, calling back to him: "Layton, you're a coward!"

It's Pike, which doesn't really surprise him at all. The man had always questioned Andre, always been ready to point out his mistakes and share his wrongdoings. 

"Pike?" He says, after a sigh and an eye roll.

Andre finally steps into the bloodied carriage, carefully placing each step on the ground as quietly as possible. So far, all he knows is that Pike is there. And there's no guarantee that man wouldn't try take Layton down given the chance, meaning he had to be subtle and careful in his approach. He steps over arms; and legs; and torsos, the stench of blood so thick in the air he can almost choke on it.

"We don't want you here!" Pike speaks again.

"I'm coming in."

"No, you're not!"

"Who's with you?" No matter what, Andre tells himself that finding out who remains is his top priority. And keeping Pike talking may just distract him long enough for Andre to disarm him in a sudden approach. 

There's three of them on the other side of the cabin. Pike's at the front, blood drying on his hands and a makeshift weapon clasped in one of them. He's stewing in his own anger, on guard each step Andre takes. The other two are pretty much in the same positions, only the biggest of them all has a familiar, though terrified, woman captured in his arms: Till, one of the brakemen who'd been with Andre earlier on that day. 

"How's it going?" He's trying his best to calm them down.

"Yo, Layton, where you coming from, man?" But the betrayal is already so evident in their eyes, their voices, their body language. To them, Andre is looking less like a Tailie than when he was dragged out of there.

"Uptrain, man." Honesty may be his best policy, if he plays his cards right. "Yo, they pulled me up to solve a murder. You believe that?" He sure as hell still didn't. "They're doing us a favor and killing each other up there."

"Bullshit." Pike is still angry but what's new? Andre knows he needs to redirect his anger off of himself and back onto those who are the real enemy. "You're a traitor! This will only end one way."

"Yeah." Andre's hand comes down on Pike's weapon, clasping it in his own strength and pulling it out of Pike's shaking arms. "They're gonna storm in here, and they're gonna butcher us. Everything we've fought for, everyone who's lost their life for this to even be achievable, it will all have been in vain."

"Two minutes!" The Commander's voice yells down the hall and suddenly they're all on edge again.

"I got a family, man. I can't die like this."

"Shut the fuck up, Z!" Pike's grip has returned to the weapon, widening Andre's eyes as he fears the man may strike him down in irrational anger.

"I got a wife and a kid on this train, Pike." Z fights back, enunciating each word with the passion of a devoted husband and a loving father. "Old Ivan offed himself, man. We're dong this for him. He hung himself with an electrical cord. That's what sparked this whole thing."

"Pike," Andre wants to grieve and break down, the loss of Ivan, a gentle soul in a world of unkindness, shaking him to his very core. But he can't. There's no time. "whatever happened between us, we're brothers." Pike's breathing slowly begins to deescalate. Andre loosens his grip on the spear between them both. "I think I got a way for us all to get outta this alive." At last, Pike lowers his weapon, his head shaking as he fights back his emotions. Andre seizes onward, making eye contact with the woman. "Hey. Till, It's okay. It's okay." It doesn't take long for him to convince the Tailie holding her captive to lower his weapon and, with an abrupt apology he wishes was sincere, Andre punches her in the face and watches how she falls down.

There's commotion straight away, with all three Tailies bringing their weapons back up and pointing them at Andre, the fire returning to their blood as  they look at the man they would call traitor. 

"What the hell, Layton!?"

"You need to surrender yourselves to the drawers!" He rushes out, before any of them can harm him. 

"No way!" Pike says.

"It's like sleep! They put you to sleep!" He'd seen them himself, zombiefied in the drawers as different wires and tubes kept their bodies alive whilst their minds slept away the revolutions the train done around the frozen landscape. 

"Okay. For how long?" Z seems more willing to cooperate.

"It's a goddamn coffin, Layton!"

"Listen to me! By my count, I went uptrain 130 cars today, okay? I seen shit none of us could've imagined, alright?"

"What? You seen your traitor wife!? Or your traitor girlfriend?"

"Pike, Old Ivan dreamed of this! I can piece together floor plans, maps, security details. Everything we could ever need to properly storm uptrain, all the way to the engine."

It's in utter tears that all three men throw down their weapons, Pike the most exhausted of all. "Look at the blood!" He cries, crouching on his knees. "I'm done, Layton! I'm done."

"One Tail, remember? It's only a matter of time until the day we take that engine, we're gonna need you waiting uptrain." Andre watches as the other man nods, standing up straight again and clearing his throat.

With the Tailies now in agreement, Andre finds himself stuck between the Commander, Ruth and Melanie, all demanding and fighting over what the fate of the Tailies should be. There's only one thing left for Andre to do, one last sacrifice of his pride to make.

"I'll do it." He speaks only to Melanie really, the others being drowned out in the sound of the train's wheels turning against the frozen track below. "I'll solve your murder. I will get your order back, and in exchange, you'll give mercy to the train."

"Mr. Wilford demands justice. But we can't afford to lose another life. Ruth will take an arm from a Tailie tomorrow." 

Hours have passed since the agreement was made and in a small holding cell lays Andre, his muscular build uncomfortably fit onto a small cot. He misses his bed in the Tail, the bed in his house, the bed in room 322 of the Marigold hotel just down the road from the station. It was the luxury of feeling refreshed every morning; of having a cup of coffee placed on his desk, her familiar handwriting across the attached sticky note that he'd taken advantage of for years. Now, he never even sees her face outside of his own memories. 

For the past half hour, he's been feigning sleep. Roche has been sat guard near his cell the whole time, though he believes the man should be on his way home soon, to his own bed and his own wife. The voice of the train interrupts this though, sneaking her way into the room so quietly Andre nearly opens his eyes and blows his cover.

"Nice work on getting him to cooperate." Roche is the first to speak. "How'd you know he would?"

"I could see it in his eyes. He'd do anything for the Tail, even if it means helping us." He hates the way Melanie speaks about him, like she understands every little thought in his head, every action he makes. Like he's a puppet and she's the puppeteer, moving him around with the strings she'd tied onto his limbs. "We'll get him started tomorrow with the proper investigation. I'll send you a list of anything and anywhere Mr. Wilford deems off limits."

"And what about the victims? Is he gonna get the full rundown or?"

"There's things he doesn't need to know about."

"Like the fact the first one was a Tailie?" Roche asks matter-of-factly and Andre swears he can see him cross his arms, that smug look across his face.

When the voice of the train speaks again, it knocks the wind out of Andre's lungs; stops the beating of his heart; freezes every thought in his head.

"The body of Y/N L/N is to be kept top secret.Detective Layton is not to even hear about her. Understood?"

He hasn't heard her name, her full name, in so long. He knows it's wrong but he loves to hear them call her by her maiden name, instead of by her married name. It's as if, on the moving life of the train, her husband doesn't exist, never existed. Perhaps reality would have been better that way, perhaps they could have survived longer to become more than dirty secrets reserved for nights of pleasure and mornings of ignorance. To even begin to fathom that she was no longer alive, on board the train, feels like more of a betrayal than when he'd last seen her walk out the doors of the Tail. He can remember it now, the anger he'd felt the next day when she'd never returned. It had stung more than when Zarah had left. To think he spent so long resenting her for abandoning them, when there's now the fact she's nothing more than a body in a serial killer case brings bile up Andre's throat.

There are secrets haunting the train. Between the murders and the politics, Andre begins to fear he's now stuck in the mess of it all, swimming blindly in a  sea of lies and being expected to be an honest man. He knows his only hope is to tear the train apart, limb from limb, and peak into the darkness it's trying to cover up. 

If that means uncovering Y/N L/N's fate along the way, so be it. 

[loyalflutist]

Marriage (F!Byleth x Edelgard)

Challenge: Edeleth Twitter Week (09/29/2019 - 10/05/2019)  Day 7: Marriage

A/N: WHEW, finally done with it! This has to be the fluffiest piece I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy this final ride!

---

Hardships were inevitable in a person’s life. No matter how cautious one can be, they were bound to succumb to difficulties. Everyone had gone through it once in their lifetime. From rich to poor, from nobility to commoner, from allies to enemies, everyone experienced hardships.

Many hands motioned towards the students from the monastery. How terrible! They were fated to clash with one another from the near future! Not a single person would agree with their beliefs and course of action. Edelgard wished to unite Fodlan and eliminate the corrupted Church’s power. Dimitri wished to defend the Church and land from his archnemesis, Edelgard. Claude strived to gain a middle ground between the two nobles, his focus entirely on the background noise. Their struggles landed them into a deadlock for five slow years. There was no end in sight.

Until Byleth came into the picture.

Something about her seems different though. It was as if… she can’t trust all three of them. Not yet, anyway. Shudders ran down all the students’ spine at the sight of the ex-mercenary. The aura she possessed when she first met them shook their core. Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude were ones mostly terrified by her.

“Don’t… you think she’s literally changed overnight?” Claude scratched the back of his head, his dark hues were shifty. “I swear she wasn’t this grumpy.”

“Grumpy? Don’t be silly,” Dimitri shook his head. “She’s always worn the same expression when we first met last night.”

“No no, you don’t understand, Dimitri. She may look the same, but she’s acting strange.”

“I think you need to have your eyes checked.”

“Um, no. How about you get your eyes checked.”

“Wha— How rude of you!”

And… so the two males began to wrestle with one another in hopes of dominating their points with one another. If there was one thing they shared, it was their stubborn nature. Then again, the three lords from the three houses shared this trait. Not even Edelgard was spared from it. The white-haired loudly sighed, placing a hand on her forehead, and felt a bead of sweat run down the side of her face.

“How immature.”

Still… Claude wasn’t wrong. There was something off about Byleth. The ex-mercenary was recently granted a position as a professor for the students. It was abrupt, but to be expected from Lady Rhea. (Though it caught Jeralt by surprise.) What was most shocking was the fact that Byleth chose to teach not just the Black Eagle’s house, but the Blue Lions and Golden Deer too. A deal was struck between Manuela and Hanneman the instant she greeted them.

“You’re telling me that you want to rotate our shifts?” Hanneman raised his brows. “Won’t that place a burden on you, Professor Byleth?”

Manuela crossed her arms as the two teachers heard Byleth out. They nodded their head slowly, their eyes widened.

“My… If that’s the case, then I don’t see why not.”

The rest of the conversation was a mystery to the peeping students. Hubert, Ashe, Lorenz, and Cyril could not help but try to gather intel about the newcomer at the main hall with Rhea. Unfortunately, that was all they could get from their exchange. Their voice ushered into mumbles and faint whispers. The only way they would be able to capture the rest of the story was to stand directly behind them. Of course, their covers would be beyond blown. The four of them scampered away in disappointment.

“The professor is a strange one…” Edelgard mumbled to herself.

She retracted her hand and glanced to her right. Ah— There was Byleth. She was fast approaching them in the field right outside of their lecture halls. Maybe a little too fast as it seems like a vicious sprint. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest at the terrifying sight. (Was there a dash prompt for the instructor?!) If Byleth doesn’t brake early enough, she might crash into them! Before Edelgard could open her mouth to holler a warning, the older woman immediately skidded to a stop. Then, she grabbed ahold of the noble’s hands.

“I… I will save— save you.”

“?!”

Out of breath, Byleth stared into the future emperor’s eyes. The intensity nearly caused the noble to collapse onto her knees and kneel before the warrior. Yet she managed to keep her legs from becoming wobbly. Edelgard placed great emphasis on her blinking as she bit the bottom of her lip.

“U-Um, I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply.”

“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t let them hurt you anymore,” Byleth squeezed her hands. She vigorously nodded her head in hopes of proving her worth. “I’ll save everyone, and I will save you.”

What was she trying to say? Has she gone mad? Edelgard felt her heart clench as she tried to formulate a theory or two about this particular response. Save her… It doesn’t seem to be about anything physical. Metaphorically? Perhaps, but there must be more… The noble’s jawlines became prominent as she settled for a conclusion. Byleth couldn’t have meant… Those Who Slither in the Dark and the Church of Seiros, right? If she recalls, Jeralt had confessed that he kept the world of politics away from his daughter as much as possible. She wouldn’t have been able to acknowledge the existence of one of these organizations until now.

Right?

Well, how wrong Edelgard was. When she put on the mask of the Flame Emperor, the young lady was unable to carry out her plan. Every single plan she articulated and meticulously drawn out was obliterated by none other than Byleth. However, she was not the only one to be affected. The Church of Seiros seemed to be struggling to move forward with their plans for the new professor. Those Who Slither in the Dark were left scrambling for anything to revitalize their next move in a losing battle.

There were also positive events of the three houses and their members. All three of them were forced to band together as comrades due to their professors’ rotations in shifts. Their curriculums were replicas between the classrooms, so there weren’t any differences in teaching methods. This was accompanied by their weekly field trips for practical battles led by Shamir, Catherine, and Byleth. Relationships that were strained had mended over the months. Fractured bonds healed after the individuals finally sat down to communicate. Edelgard found herself joining hands with Claude and Dimitri once their beliefs aligned.

“Whatever it is, let’s talk it out… together.”

Dimitri chuckled. “Well spoken, my friend. I would never expect to hear that from you.”

“Hey… give me some credit, will ya?” he crossed his arms behind his head and winked. “I’m the brain in the group.”

Edelgard could not resist a giggle, her mouth covered.

“So long as we help each other, I find no issue in that.”

“See? Even our little princess understands our roles.”

“Claude…”

“What? Cat’s caught your tongue?”

And so, their bickering continued. They were so childish, Edelgard wondered if she was the third wheel with their relationship. It was amusing. Perhaps she did not think so hard about staying on the sideline as her heart had already belonged to a certain someone; their teacher. It was a relationship that sowed the seed one evening.

Byleth teetered into the wrong dormitory during the third month of the academic year. She stumbled into the premise of none other than the Adrestian Empire’s princess. Edelgard, who had been reading her tactical textbook, was alarmed at the abrupt appearance of the older woman.

“B-Byleth?”

“How ya doin’?”

The speech was slurred, cheeks were flushed, and eyes were droopy. Edelgard immediately got up from her chair. Byleth was drunk. She had to catch the drowsy female the moment she lurched forward. Oh, what did her professor do now? Was she so stressed that she had to rely on alcohol? Concern riddled her mind as the young student patiently guided her teacher to her mattress. Byleth didn’t waste any second to plop on the bed. She was just like a child… and even more so when her hand latched onto Edelgard’s arm.

“I wanna hug you.”

“…”

“Pwease?”

“…okay.”

Edelgard sighed loudly. She had to admit defeat. Otherwise, Byleth would never let go of her and would never drop the puppy eyes. This was so out of character for the ex-mercenary. Emotions that were rarely conveyed on her features were still there, but the intonation from her spoken dialogues was dripping with them. Should the other students catch a whiff of her demeanor, they would likely rush out and call for an exorcist! Edelgard pursed her lips.

The two eventually went under the covers. One in their loungewear, the other simply stripped of her large overcoat. A strong, musky scent of the fruity product wafted from her instructor’s direction. The noble firmed her lips and began to pat on Byleth’s head like a little kid. This seemed to please the older female. As a result, Byleth instantly flopped onto her side and cuddled up to Edelgard.

“I love you so much, Edie~”

“#@#$&@!”

That was the seed that had been planted. Though Byleth had apologized for her inept and shameful actions the next day, Edelgard could not forget the confession that slipped out of her drunken professor, even if Byleth had no recollection. It started out as a crush… and soon developed into a stronger form of it. The transition soon slithered into a one-sided love that would rival most anybody’s romantic self-destructive fantasies. Had it not been for Claude and Dimitri, she wouldn’t have the guts to face Byleth with a confession.

“I love you, my teacher. I love you so much.”

Rejection never occurred. The proof was evidenced by their current standing. Byleth and Edelgard whispered sweet nectar to each other’s ears, their hands roamed their bare figures at night, and sensitive flesh brushing upon their neck for plantation of hickeys. Physical affections were simply a bonus to their powerful bonds with one another. Their love transcends beyond normal comprehension.

All these activities and events had all occurred during their time as students. It was as if Byleth had incredible luck… No— that wasn’t right. It was as if she could predict the future. Her uncanny ability to nail everyone’s next move down to the grittier details frightened the house leaders and archbishop. Even her girlfriend could not help but wonder what wisdom had possessed Byleth. If her secret identity’s activities were hindered by the ex-mercenary… and her enemies were unable to gather their fractured plans… What was Byleth up to?

Unfortunately, the only thing that remained on course was Byleth’s five-year disappearance.

“BYLETH!!!”

Three of the house leaders, joined side-by-side, screamed out her name when Lady Rhea slammed her staff into the teal-haired. Its metallic cane might have a simple blunt weapon. A single smack from it would likely bring about no more than a bruise. But most everyone had forgotten the incredible strength that possessed the archbishop. Trained in martial arts to the finest level, the amount of energy input into the swing crashed heavily into Byleth’s chest.

CRACK!

Its impact produced an audible sound above the raging flames. Edelgard, Claude, and Dimitri widened their eyes when their professor was tossed backward. The Adrestian Empire’s newly crowned emperor caught her girlfriend. Dimitri rushed to the front to protect the two and flicked his lance downward; Claude standing by Dimitri with his arrow pulled back on his bow.

“You’ll pay for that, Lady Rhea!” Dimitri howled as he sprinted forward. “DIE!”

“Tch.”

Claude would normally say something witty, but he had to agree with Dimitri’s violent nature for once. Rhea would pay for her crime in harming their teacher. Arrows soon flew alongside the running male as they made their way towards the archbishop.

As for Edelgard, she frantically examined her lover’s injuries. Scratches and bruises that littered her exposed skin held nothing to the caved-in chest. Blood seeped out of the corner of Byleth’s mouth non-stop. The bent metallic armored chest plate only served to worsen the damages. Dedue and Hilda arrived to assist in the tearing of the mangled exterior.

“Please, don’t die on us!” Edelgard’s hands brightened light green over her girlfriend’s chest.

Hilda stiffened her upper lip, got up onto her feet, and twirled the axe in one hand. “I’m going to help Claude.”

“I will assist my lord too,” Dedue muttered and followed a similar action as the pink-haired. “Lady Edelgard, please take care of our professor. She needs you more than ever.”

The two were not cruel to leave her behind. Their intentions were simple: to give her privacy to tend to Byleth. Besides, they were not healers. Standing around in midst of the battlefield like gawking ducks would only burden everyone else. In conjunction with their leave, Marianne, Linhardt, and Mercedes quickly joined Edelgard.

“My goodness, the shattered bones might’ve pierced her heart…” Linhardt mumbled, his words leaked with gravity. “We’ll have to use as much white magic as possible to mend her wounds, lest it be too late.”

“I… wouldn’t want that to happen.”

“Let’s do it together then, Marianne.”

Mercedes, Lindhardt, and Marianne hovered their hands above the laying warrior. The green light illuminated to another level of brightness. Sweat glimmered on their foreheads as they exerted as much energy as possible into their spells. Edelgard found it difficult to catch up to their conduction as she was hardly trained in the arts of white magic beyond emergency first-aids. This went on for nearly five whole minutes. The ground occasionally shook from the conflict. Dimitri and Claude were occupied with Rhea. Shamir had managed to dissuade Catherine from staying with the Church. Hilda and Dedue backed up their lords. The other students were slashing and exterminating the soldiers that dare to send them into the afterlife.

“…El…”

Hearing her name quietly whispered snapped her attention to the professor. Evident bags laid under Byleth’s slit eyes as she reached up to touch Edelgard’s face. The white-haired immediately grabbed ahold of it. She nuzzled into her palm, tears threatening to flow.

“You’re alive…”

“…I’m… sleepy…”

Oh no. Oh no no no! This cannot be happening! Those words flashed warning signs at the three healers, their brows furrowed and efforts amplified. They cannot lose Byleth! They absolutely cannot lose Byleth!

“El… I love you.”

Those were her last words before she fell into a deep slumber.

Suffice to say, her slumber was not permanent. The battle had ended with victory on their side. However, the three lords were forced to remain on the monastery’s ground for the sake of their sleeping teacher. Thanks to Linhardt, Marianne, and Mercedes, their teacher’s lives were saved. The extensive damaged that gnawed at her still-heart was too much to bear consciously. Its healing process would have to take place during her dark phase.

They frequently checked in on her. Edelgard was always spending every moment of her spare time by her girlfriend’s side. She would change her clothes, bathe her, kiss her forehead, and speak about stories of the day she spent as if Byleth were her diary. This went on for five years. Once Byleth had awakened, the clock resume and all of the students and staff were prepared to end the deadlocked battle between them and the Church of Seiros.

Victory was in their hands. The Crests were gone, Byleth had survived the ordeal with a new beating heart, and everyone celebrated their survival in this cruel war. They were in this together, and they were no major casualties on their ends.

“…remember when I told you that I would save you?”

“Yes?”

Edelgard turned to look at her fiancée. They were seated on the edge of a low cliff, their legs dangling barely above the grassy patch of the field. Retirement was already in progress in the vast scene now that the ex-noble had given her title to a suitable match. Many of the alumni had gone off to conduct their own businesses. Some got married, some engaged in social justice, some continued to serve their lords, and some simply met the same fate as Edelgard and settled for a simpler lifestyle. As for Dimitri and Claude, they kept their royal titles. The world had moved onward to a better pathway. What more could everyone ask for?

Byleth glanced over to Edelgard.

“I… have a confession to make.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Well… the truth is, I’ve been in timelines where you had died.”

“Really? That’s hard to believe.”

“It’s the truth. Byleth shook her head. “The same could be said for everyone. Everyone had met their demise in the other timelines.”

“So… you’re telling me that you came from the future?”

“I suppose you can say that.”

The explanation was far simpler than one might expect: Sothis and the ability of Divine Pulse. After going through the traumatic events of watching everyone die, Sothis pitied her host and strengthened the time-reversal skill. An option to start right back to the beginning. It was an option Byleth desperately needed. Through trial and error… and plenty of heartbreaks and insanity that plagued the professor, she finally achieved the perfect ending. That led to Sothis finally resting in peace inside of Byleth, never to emerge from her slumber.

In comes present-time, the two stood side-by-side in front of their small cottage. Many of their friends and allies arrived at an isolated location. It was a rare treat to have this many people bustling before them. Even Claude and Dimitri took time off to stop by. Then again, today was a special day. This would be the day they would get married, and everyone was filled with glee for their official commitment. (“Finally!” as Dorothea would bellow in the background.)

Byleth adjusted her white collar. Dressed in a tuxedo, she played the role of the male figure in this holy event. (Besides, she was far more comfortable wearing pants for this occasion.) The final smoothing of her attire in front of the mirror was complete. She glanced over her shoulders within the living room and called out to her lover.

“El, are you ready?”

Edelgard, in her white dress, peeked out from the corner of the room. She slowly approached her professor. A genuine blush tickled her cheeks and nearly blended in with the make-up done by Manuela and Dorothea. The ex-royal figure nodded.

“I’m ready.”

They exchanged a peck on the lips, knowing that the real deal that would seal their future would be coming soon. The anticipation kicked their heartbeats into a new speed. Smiles plastered on their face, their hands were glued together as they turned to the open doorway.

It was time. Through the hardships they went through, through the tears and grief they went through, through the pain and anguish they went through, they finally got their happy ending. And they were together till the end of time.

[imaginingcriminalminds]

To Build a Family (minor S11 spoilers/mention)

HEADER FORM (General) Title: To Build a Family Author: souloutside-xx Rating: K+ Prompt/Summary: Could you do a Drabble on Prentiss and Hotch having a family with some other details around that?!? http://imaginingcriminalminds.tumblr.com/post/157115313287/imaginingcriminalminds-could-you-do-a-drabble-on Main Character(s): Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss Trigger Warning: Nope Word Count: 1,098 Beta/Editor: me Multishot: I can be convinced Author’s Notes: more fluff because I love writing hotchniss (though there are only a few drabble requests about them *insert sad face here*); I’m sorry for any typos, I was sleepy. Morgan arc spoilers?: A bit, yes

2011

 Build a family was definitely the last thing they expected, put aside a big one. They both had jobs that would never allow them to spend time enough with the kids and acceptance seemed their only way to move on. Besides, they had fraternization rules which they were already fearlessly breaking. They even made mental notes to scold Rossi someday for not keeping his pants in place.

 After a long conversation – one of those you run away from – the Unit Chief and his dearest subordinate decided it was time to give up on the idea of giving Jack a brother or a sister. It was not meant to be, they could stop it and that was that. No more precious spare time wasted on the matter.

 Still, when Emily walked in with a killing headache and morning nausea just two months later, Aaron Hotchner realized he was going to be a father again. He didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable with the whole situation, since he was more than elated to watch her glowing with their child. Therefore, he waited until they were at his place, post dinner and right after she tucked Jack into bed – she did so, because the little boy always said that making voices was definitely not one of his dad’s abilities.

 The older agent was reading another report, head resting on the headboard, pen swirling his awful handwriting. Although she hated how he worked near sleeping time, he couldn’t help it and was more than grateful when she actually gave up and joined him in such activity. Two had always been better than one.

“We need to talk” he startled the ambassador’s daughter, whose files now were down the mattress “You are pregnant”

 Her doe eyes opened in utter shock, mouth agape as she had never given this option a chance, “No”.

“I’m not asking, actually” his reading glasses were left upon his nightstand – his, yes, for she had her own on her side of the bed.

 Some minutes later, time enough to drive to the nearest drugstore and buy the pregnancy test, her phone rang loudly, filling the silence between them. He reassured her, told her he was there for them, one warm palm fondling her raven silky hair while his fingers interlaced with hers. Hotch pressed butterfly kisses to her cheeks, lips brushing her temple as he rose to his bare feet and headed towards the bathroom.

 Their future was in there, painting two sticks small sticks.

                                                                                                              ~***~

2017

“When I said you should give Jack some siblings, I never meant you should have your own BAU at home” his goateed friend joked as Aaron placed a large circular creamy birthday cake decorated with light yellow whipped cream forming small lilies upon the due surface.

“Tell me about it” the father of five quipped, eyeing an older Emily Prentiss talking enthusiastically with her blonde friends; the woman had a power to look every time more beautiful, it never failed to amaze him “I must admit, the twins were a surprise”

“You old dog” Morgan tapped his ex-boss’ back, carrying the young Hank on his shoulders and complimenting him “Congratulations man, you have one beautiful family”

“Thanks for coming, Morgan” he smiled, flashing dimples as he proudly watched how they all found happiness in their different ways, even with all the evil they had faced throughout the years. It was just… gratifying.

 “Let’s be honest gumdrop, how come you and Mr ‘super serious’ failed at keeping birth control? I mean-” Penelope uttered as they approached a main table, where they set two identical cakes and surrounded them with some colored candies – mostly light yellow -. A white floral lace tablecloth only contributed to such delicate looks.

“Garcia!” JJ squealed by their brunette friend’s side, cocking her head in order to point out the one-year old Eileen in Emily’s arms “But it’s a good point, you and Hotch are like…”

“‘Responsibility is my surname’” the techno analyst blunted, loud enough for Derek to listen and immediately quit his chit chat with the boys.

 He shot a playful grin as soon as the three women joined them, “Whoa, are we coming up with nicknames to bossman and princess here?”

“No, we are getting ready to sing happy birthday, pretty please?” the mother of four stood beside her partner, receiving a quick peck while he cradled Eileen’s twin, Lori, in his own arms.

“My bet is ‘guys, we have news to you’ is a good one” her ex-co-worker ignored in order to continue taunting both of his friends.

“I’m joining this game too” Rossi stepped closer, entertainment written all over his face “I’ll go with ‘you won’t believe what happened’, and add a fake surprised face here”

“Ooh, I have one” their petite blonde glanced at Prentiss with a secretive hint in her eyes “It was me, not you, that heard Emily saying ‘it’s not my fault, it’s all on Hotch and-’”

“Jayje!” brown eyes widened open in utter shock whilst they managed to get Jack, Rosie and three-years old Theo by their sides. It was a great mess, but they were joyful to live like that.

 Their friends were right, though. Announce they were having a baby when the team had not a clue they were even together was a very hard moment. But after that, they took in the benefits of playing around with them.

 The first time, it was an accident – not at all because they were more than thankful - and Rosie dazed all of them, including her parents. Their firstborn helped her mother healing from the hollow, the scars Doyle left her. She allowed Emily to start again and discover a new side she had intentionally avoided for so long.

 Two years later, Theo was on the way. Back to that time, they could enjoy every stage and a tad of intern jokes were born along with her pregnancy course. The little boy was a bundle of joy, also a great companion for Jack. He was a missing piece of their puzzle.

 A whiff of hope and uttermost surprise. Those were the right words to describe Aaron and Emily’s feelings last year when her annual check-up became a further examination and, later, it became them discovering not one, but two Hotchners were growing within her. They were not young anymore – they hadn’t been from the first one – so Eileen and Lori made them learn everything anew.

“Guys” Spencer reluctantly murmured, lost in his musings whilst his colleagues turned towards him, making the boy genius somehow nervous “I think I have a better one…”

[lifeisacinemahall]

On the face of it, they couldn’t be further apart in exposition, scope, or even their target audience. If I wasn’t constrained by the anomaly of the expression – for, I’ve tasted both, but never attempted to write with one of them – they’d be legends of chalk-and-cheese. And yet both arrived circa 2017, and both in their own ways, shook up the watching audience.

Wonder Woman, directed by Patty Jenkins and written by Allan Heinberg, as we all know now, shattered the DC world and that of superheroes forever. It was, by Zeus, helmed by a woman, and that wasn’t the reason it re-pressed box-office records worldwide. It carried with it, a hitherto unseen and unfelt emotional space in caped crusades, that brought a whiff of genuine romance even as it split wide open global issues, that though it keenly observed during the flagging days of World War I, are more relevant than ever. Opening in a flashback to the wondrous and stunning locales of the mystical and hidden island of Themyscira, the inhabitants being the all-women Amazonian warriors, created by Zeus to save mankind – the only scenes where the director and cinematographer Matthew Jensen paint the screen with mind-bogglingly breathtaking colors and hues – we see  the relationship between ruling Queen Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen, all power and caring mother at once) and her only daughter – also the only child on the island – Diana, wanting to pick up the battle cloak and dagger from an early age; to her mother’s vehement and vigorous denial, the child is trained by her aunt, Antiope (Robin Wright, masterfully intense) to become even a more whiplash of a warrior than herself. And once the Queen mother realizes there’s no stopping her defiant daughter and sister, she lets you into a tantalizing line that tells you there’s more to revealed about Diana. But that’s later for you to discover in the movie. The lives of the amazing Amazonian women are upended when a fighter plane crashes near their island, and a grown-up Diana (Gal Gadot) rescuing its sole pilot, American pilot Captain Steve Trevor (Chris Pine). That’s also when, in perhaps one of the most invigorating and eye-widening action sequences in the movie, that Diana realizes that Zeus’ son, Ares, is out there in the world unknown to her tribe, and is somehow behind the catastrophic war; she also realizes, as the island is attacked by a German unit in pursuit of Trevor, of how hopeless her island’s weaponry can be, against the modern blitzkrieg of hot lead and powerful thermodynamics. Her adventure takes her out to the big, bad world with Trevor, and she runs in with the German psychopath-cum-General  Erich Ludendorff (a marvelous Danny Huston) and his chemical-mania of a chemist Dr. Isabel Maru (a superbly evil turn by Elena Anaya) also known as Dr. Poison, which so nicely fills in her job description as well. There’s other characters who support Diana/Wonder Woman as she, with Trevor takes on the evil forces, with a little help from friends including the British cabinet minister, Sir Patrick Morgan (David Thewlis, shining as always), Trevor’s secretary Etta Candy (Lucy Davis), and a band of fighters that Trevor gets together for the mission.

Gal Gadot: bows to no one.

In Aruvi (Waterfalls), the titular lead character, played by Aditi Balan, has no such luck with regards to friends or kin. This story is told in flashback too, but keeps cutting to the ominous present, where she and perhaps her only thick-and-thin friend Emily (Anjali Varadhan, singeingly fantastic) are being interrogated by police officer Shakeel Waqaab (Mohammed Ali Baig, very suave, extremely believable, but inflecting at times as if he’d rather be on an episode of CSI), and as you hear Aruvi’s story, you realize that much like Diana, she’s had a sheltered childhood, but not one of fantasy, but an everyday life, where she’s the apple of her father’s eye  – Thirunavukkarasu in a magnificently etched and enacted supporting role – and has a regular love-and-tiff relationship with her younger brother. All this changes, and as far as you’re concerned, it happens in a scene that stuns, as you see Aruvi’s life upend, as you did Diana’s – only here, there’s no Trevor to lend a helping hand nor a mother to lend a supportive farewell, and a sullied Aruvi is kicked out of the house, despite her pained protestations. Director Arun Prabu Purushothaman doesn’t have the big bucks backing for this project, nor does he require the green bundles to tell the story he wrote – it’s in the turning of the  blunt knife that he enjoys your discomfiture, not in the anesthetized comfort of a newly forged blade. In between cutting from a swift montage of the ever-burgeoning intrigue of the present and an increasingly chilling look at the past that got his lead character here, the director spares no wound and cut, and just as suddenly, the movie parkours from a social drama to black comedy to a visceral look at society’s unstoppable spinning of hypocrisy and exploitation. Backed by an ensemble of character actors who do wonders onscreen (as they do in Wonder Woman) – here, Arnold Mathew (playing Aruvi’s brother), Lakshmi Gopalswami (the TV host of Solvathellam Sathyam), Pradeep Anthony, Bala and others – Aruvi works best when it’s ripping off the skin of societal hypocrisy, zipping into a TED-like talk of happiness, and a cathartic revelation for a character in the TV studio. Where it does get weak is when the director spins the bottle of story much too long, giving himself and his  Aruvi this indulgence that both might never get again. As in Wonder Woman, where the bar scenes and comedy tend to act as a plateau for the main mission.

Aditi Balan: water-falling in love.

Both movies also look, in their own lens-mounted ways, of the troubling times we live in. The focal point of these projects is women. And both of them are Wonder Women in the way they grittily pack a punch back at the world. Both characters step out into these worlds they haven’t seen earlier, much less prepared to take head on. But both realize very quickly that taking the bullshit by the horns is a much more messier and complex affair than they could have imagined or planned for. In a world designed by men, for men, and of men, in a sense both Diana and Aruvi are Amazonian warriors, their battles very cleanly defined by themselves even if circumstances have forced them to do so, their weapon of choice the best possible that their times have to offer. In Wonder Woman does Diana realize that the world’s such a big truckload of mess that even superheroes can’t quite resolve the mosaic of power struggles and the manic ambition of a few, or just one. Aruvi on the other hand does her best to take control of these very manipulative and destructive forces of reality shows and news mites that feed into speculation, metastasizing into false news, triggering meaningless late-night TV debates, making experts of all who care to appear on TV and indulge in shouting matches.

Thirunavukkarasu is all father’s pain in Aruvi.…

Both women succeed, if you can call it that, but pay a very heavy price for their success. If there ever was Pyrrhic victory, it is these two who bear the burden of it. From the principles of naiveté to steely determination for justice, these super women bear crosses that they’re forever nailed to. Aruvi also makes you think of palliative care, of how important it is for everyone, without fail, to have loved ones around them, as they make that one final journey, however painful the director makes it for you to watch.

..while Gal Gadot and Danny Huston play some deadly maneuvers in Wonder Woman.

And both movies work superbly well within the ground rules of engagement they lay for themselves – Wonder Woman is eventually a commercial explosion of entertainment, not pretending to be otherwise; Aruvi is more than a waterfall – it’s a flood of a wincing, progressively-tough-to-watch indie, not attempting to be anything else. And yet, both have power that they grant their women to achieve, and for that, both are extremely gratifying cinematic experiences.

The movies boast of fine lead performances – Gal Gadot is impeccable, walking the line of a radiant, magical superwoman, stumbling along to find the magic of love and the callousness of mankind, even while executing some truly fine action pieces. Aditi Balan as Aruvi is astoundingly splenetic, clawing at your soul with what has to be one of the finest debut performances ever. She’s magical too, in her own way, but more the dark, haunting variety.

The music score for Wonder Woman by Rupert Gregson-Williams is a typical blockbuster music sheet, and there, you won’t find anything alluring, except maybe for Hans Zimmer’s grungy theme. Composers Bindhu Malini and Vedanth Bharadwaj, however, aren’t bound any such considerations for Aruvi. Much like the break-out woman the movie portrays, their background score, especially, is a winner. Utterly unpredictable, rocking between Carnatic music and the unexpected pleasure of a bass, using trumpets to segue into hip-hop jazz, the musicians add their own layer of pleasurable unpredictability to the story.

And there’s another difference between the two movies. Wonder Woman, despite all the losses, gets a sequel. Aruvi, despite winning at life and because of it, doesn’t. But it is the pyrotechnics of the fantasy of one that make it easier to watch the inevitable poignancy of the other. And it is in the balancing out and propelling of these two stories, not in their canceling each other, that makes movie watching such a beautiful, uplifting, and powerful experience.

Aruvi Movie data powered by IMDb

Aruvi Director Arun Prabhu Purushothaman Running Time 2h 10 min Writer Arun Prabhu Purushothaman Stars  Aditi Balan, Pradeep Anthony, Arnold, Mohammed Ali Baig, Thirunavukkarasu Genres Drama

Wonder Woman data powered by IMDb

Wonder Woman Director Patty Jenkins Running Time 2h 21 min Writer Allan Heinberg Stars  Gal Gadot, Chris Pine, Robin Wright, Danny Huston Genres Action, Adventure, Fantasy

  ‘Aruvi’ and ‘Wonder Woman’ reviews: A Flood and an Explosion On the face of it, they couldn’t be further apart in exposition, scope, or even their target audience.

[edc-creations-blog]

New Release: Shattered Vows: Love, Lies & Consequences by Natasha Frazier. Book 3  – Love, Lies & Consequences Series.  Genre: Christian Fiction

Shattered Vows: Love, Lies & Consequences Book 3

Love, Lies & Consequences (Book 1)

The only way to prove what you say you believe is to be put to the test. So was the case with Raegan who was all set to live a life free of sexual impurities until she met Rico, who challenged her character. Sex outside of marriage isn’t all that bad if you’re going to eventually marry that person, right? After all, Rico did want to marry her and she thought she wanted to marry him until Caleb, her college love, comes back into her life. Raegan lets her guard down and makes a series of choices that lead to consequences she wasn’t prepared to face. She will soon find out just how strong she is and if she can rely on her faith to see her through to the other side.

Review: Love, Lies & Consequences

This is the first book I’ve read by this author. I’ll be looking to read more. It’s an enjoyable, inspiring book. You will not want to put it down.You can relate to the relationships in this book. I love the Scriptures in the book. I don’t want to spoil the book by telling you the plot but let’s just say you might see yourself in Reagan. – Dotty

“The true test of my commitment will come when I am actually tested, but it’s nothing I can’t handle…” So thinks Raegan, the main character of author Natasha D. Frazier’s new book LOVE, LIES & CONSEQUENCES—and it proves to be a thought that is itself tested every step of her journey.

Frazier has crafted an entertaining yet thoughtful read that allows us to see that when it comes to doing what is right versus what feels right both men and women have to put forth a lot of effort and not allow themselves to be tempted beyond what they can bear. For Raegan this seems easier said than done, especially when her heart and mind seem to be warring against each other at times. What we realize, though, is that sometimes circumstances can help us to figure out that at the end of the day we can’t direct our steps. We need to rely on the One that knows us best in order to do that.

Raegan realizes she can have what she wants, but she has to be willing to surrender to His will and not allow her own desires to get in the way.  There’s a lot to love about this book, especially since it shows that men aren’t the only one that has problems with promises. It also shows that when we decide on a path we have to be ready and willing to accept the consequences that come along with it, even if it means possibly losing all that we have. – Cyrus Webb

Through Thick & Thin: Love, Lies & Consequences (Book 2)

Engaged, pregnant, and unsure of her baby’s father, Raegan’s troubles have multiplied. In the sequel to the award-winning title, Love, Lies & Consequences, Raegan learns what it feels like to be loved completely. In turn, she must learn to forgive and return that same love that was given to her. Forgiveness and understanding won’t come easily.

Caleb has promised to stay by her side–but will her guilt push him away? When Caleb’s past catches up to him, will Raegan remain by his side as he promised to stick by hers?

Or does she hold him to a different standard? Will Raegan choose Caleb over her need to be in control of everything?

Will they stick with each other Through Thick & Thin . . . or will the consequences of their past sins be too much to bear?

Reviews: Through Thick & Thin

After reading the first novel, I could not have been happier upon hearing that the sequel was released. This one took me through a whirlwind of emotions, but it was such an enjoyable read. Can’t wait to read more books by this author! – Tasha, Amazon reviewer

This was a pretty good Christian Romance. I enjoyed the characters and their story. The first book kept my interest enough to purchase the second book. I would definitely read more books from this author. – Amazon reviewer

Five stars and two thumbs up! Congrats on a job well done!  I fell in love with all of the characters. If you’re looking for a good, clean, Christian fiction read, do not pass this series up! – Rachel B. Amazon reviewer

NEW!  Shattered Vows: Love, Lies & Consequences (Book 3)

Rico gambled with his marriage when he cheated on Chloe. Breaking his vows and risking everything for temporary pleasure, he lost his wife’s respect and trust.

Rico returns to God, searching for a quick fix to win Chloe’s heart back, but his heart is the one that is changed. He is a self-proclaimed changed man, willing to go the extra mile to restore his marriage, but he just may be too late.

Has Chloe given up on him? She has forgiven him before, but this is different. “I’m sorry” isn’t enough when vows have been shattered. With the law and the Word of the Lord on her side, she finally gathers enough courage to walk away.

But then tragedy strikes. Is it enough to make Chloe stay, or will she start a new chapter in her life?

Excerpt from Shattered Vows: Love, Lies & Consequences (Book 3)

Chloe exhaled when she heard his footsteps on the wooden stairwell. She didn’t realize that she’d been holding her breath ever since she felt his hands on her body. I have to stop doing that, she chastised herself. She knew he was feeling rejected. But how did he think he made her feel when that woman showed up at the coffee shop carrying his child?

She pulled on her dress and fidgeted with it until she slid the zipper into position. She slipped into her shoes and turned around in front of the mirror, giving her clothes, makeup and hair a once-over before meeting Rico downstairs.

Rico let out a low whistle as Chloe descended the stairs with her matching camel-colored clutch under her arm.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you on my arm tonight. You look beautiful, sweetie,” Rico complimented as he took her hand when she descended to the last three steps. When she made it to the bottom, he lifted her hand and brushed her wedding band with his fingers before planting a kiss on her hand.

“Thank you.” Chloe blushed a little and returned the compliment. “You look nice, too.” She noticed that he was wearing her favorite cologne as well, but didn’t make mention of it. Rico placed her hand around his arm and escorted her to the car. Their drive to the Improv was filled with chatter from Rico about what they did on previous anniversaries. She didn’t add much to the conversation, only nodded and smiled mostly. She had to admit that those times were nice, but this one was much different. In her mind was the insurmountable obstacle in front of them.

Rico had purchased their tickets online so they walked straight past the ticket booth to the entrance, where they were greeted by a hostess and shown to their VIP table near the stage. Noting the dim lighting, soft R&B music and the newly renovated facility, Chloe remembered their first date at the Improv, where they saw the comedian Arnez J in standup. They laughed until their stomachs and throats were in pain. She was hoping she would get another whiff of that tonight, although she didn’t know who the comedian was going to be. She just knew that she could use a laugh right about now. And not just any laugh, but a magic laugh that would take away all of the pain that she was feeling and trying so hard to push aside. The type of laughter that would somehow wipe the slate clean for the two of them. She was sure there was no such thing, but she was ready for the magic she hoped the night would bring for her.

She ordered a Caesar salad and he ordered buffalo wings to enjoy before the show started. On cue, the show began when the waitress came to take away their empty plates. They were tickled a little by the warm-up acts but nothing like what she was waiting for. However, she was feeling more relaxed and her body didn’t stiffen as it did earlier when Rico pulled her chair closer to his and put his arm around her.

There were still a few residual laughs from the crowd as the host appeared onstage to announce the headliner for the night—Will the Thrill. Chloe didn’t recognize the comedian’s stage name, so she knew she hadn’t heard any of his jokes before. New material. Great.

Will the Thrill jumped straight into his routine after the round of applause subsided. His first joke was about dating and how he wasn’t ready to commit to his girlfriend by getting married.

“C’mon now men. Y’all know how much extra work it is to hide the side woman when you get married. Gotta put all these codes in your phone, use aliases and lie, lie, lie. Even when you get caught, stick to the lie. Ain’t that right my man?” he joked as he gestured toward Rico.

Her anticipation waned at those jokes. In fact, they weren’t funny at all. Bad choice in her mind. What began to tick her off was that Rico was doubled over in laughter . . . clearly, something he shouldn’t have been laughing at given the situation they were in.

“What in the hell is so funny, Rico?” she sneered, leaning to the side to look up at him wiping tears from his eyes.

“What?” Rico asked, clearly confused.

“So cheating is funny?”

“Sweetie, these are just jokes. C’mon now.”

“I’m glad you think ruining our marriage and our lives is funny. I’m getting out of here!” Chloe scooted away from the table, snatched her purse and walked away with Rico following close behind.

“Looks like someone got caught doing what I just said not to do!” the comedian joked to their retreating backs as they exited the room, causing an uproar in the crowd.

Rico grabbed her hand and she spun around. She yanked her hand back and folded her arms across her chest. The look she gave would have killed him if looks could kill. Infidelity was a sore spot with her and definitely not a laughing matter. Rico couldn’t understand why she took it so seriously. Everyone in the room, except her, knew that those were only jokes. There was no reason to get upset over nothing. But to Chloe it wasn’t nothing; it was the reason her life was turned upside down.

( Continued… )

© 2017 All rights reserved.  Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Natasha D. Frazier.  Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author’s written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.

Purchase Shattered Vows: Love, Lies & Consequences Book 3 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MZ5IQMR Purchase books by Natasha D. Frazier Genre: Christian Fiction http://www.natashafrazier.com/ store/c1/Featured_Products.html

Meet the Author Natasha D. Frazier

Natasha accepted the call to write in 2011. Since then, Natasha has authored three devotional books. Her first book is The Life Your Spirit Craves, a 30-Day devotional and journal that encourages readers to seek, accept and pursue their God-given assignment.  Her second book, Not Without You: 365 Days in the Lord’s Presence, encourages readers to make devotion a part of their everyday life by seeking God every day. Not Without You has been nominated for the Henri Award. The Henri Award recognizes excellence in Christian literature. The Life Your Spirit Craves for Mommies is a 52 week devotional for mothers that encourages them to see God at work in their lives through their role as a mother. Both devotionals in The Life Your Spirit Craves series won the Readers’ Choice Award presented at the Christian Literary Awards. Natasha is also the author of the Love, Lies & Consequences Christian-fiction series that focuses on real and relevant issues in today’s society, such as pre-marital sex, adultery, blended families and more! Currently, the series contains three published titles:  Love, Lies & Consequences, Through Thick & Thin, and Shattered Vows.

Natasha resides in Missouri City, TX with her husband, Eddie Frazier, Jr. and their three children, Eden, Ethan, and Emilyn. Her greatest joy and commitment is to her family who she hopes to inspire above all else. One of her many mottos in life is: Faith removes limitations. Natasha and her family are members of Higher Dimension Church in Houston, TX. Natasha is also a member of the Houston Area Alumni Chapter of Jackson State University and Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc.

Connect with Natasha Website: http://www.natashafrazier.com Facebook http://www.facebook.com/craves.2012 Instagram: @author_natashafrazier Twitter: @author_natashaf

Shattered Vows: Love, Lies & Consequences Series by Natasha Frazier New Release: Shattered Vows: Love, Lies & Consequences by Natasha Frazier. Book 3  - Love, Lies & Consequences Series.