#while focusing on all the characters in the unit And even brought back other familiar ones? check

[yume-fanfare]

crazy how ra*bits was the second climax event and it hit all the correct spots perfectly and no other climax event has been that good ever since

[potteresque-ire]

This post is Part 3 of the five-part meta series on the Zhang Zhehan (張哲瀚) Incident, based on what has transpired up to 2021/08/22.

1) The 2nd Sino-Japanese War (1937-45) & the Yasukuni Shrine 2) Post-War Sino-Japanese Relations; “Every Chinese should visit the Yasukuni Shrine” 3) The Summer of 2021: The Brewing Storms for One 4) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part A 5) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part B

3) The Summer of 2021: The Brewing Storms for One

Parts 1 and 2 are my very rough, … kindergartenish introduction to the historical background of Zhang’s incident. For the sake of brevity (please don’t laugh), there are so many things I haven’t touched on (such as the role of the U.S., the geopolitics). There are even more things I’ve likely missed from my admitted ignorance (Sorry).

I think a fair summary of what I’ve written so far would be as follows, before we move on to other sociopolitical factors related to Zhang’s incident?

It is true that the Japanese government, while having shown signs of repentance, has yet to truly face its own past. 

It is also true that the Chinese government has been taking advantage of its national tragedy to fuel nationalistic sentiments, to spread hatred for the purpose of propaganda ...

... Propaganda that is highly sensitive to timing, the message the regime wants to send at the moment. 

In August, 2021, Sino-Japanese relations is at a nadir. The brief thaw in early 2020, initiated by the Japanese government donating masks to Wuhan when COVID first broke out, seemed to be as old as the Chinese poem printed on the shipping boxes:  山川異域 風月同天 (“Our mountains and rivers are on different lands, but our winds and moon share the same sky”)—from the 779 BCE work of a Tang dynasty monk who had sailed to Japan as a missionary, affirming the long cultural bond between the two nations. China would give masks back to Japan.

Fast forward eighteen months later, this good will is all but gone in Chinese news, on Chinese social media. The Japanese government had just vowed to join the United States to protect Taiwan, should the Chinese government furthers its military threat towards the island — the People’s Liberation Air Forces had already intruded Taiwan’s air defence zone 393 times between January 1st and August 17th of 2021 — or should the Chinese government attempts to take over the democratic island nation by force. 

Late July came, and the Tokyo Olympics presented the opportunity for the Chinese state to broadcast anti-Japanese sentiments among the general populace. 

Like USSR and the Eastern Bloc before, the Communists-ruled China saw the Olympics medal count as a matter of national pride. After the Games began, the hot search turned immediately from the Henan flood to stories of the Tokyo Games’ subjectively awful organisation, alleged cheatings by the Japanese athletes, and the perceived unfairness of, in particular, Japanese judges towards the Chinese team that cost the latter more and better medals. This fervour cumulated to the cyberbullying of Japanese athletes by high-on-nationalism Chinese netizens, who brought back Japan’s past as a reason why Japan and its people should be universally hated. Reminders of the horrific brutality of the Imperial Japanese Army eighty years before the Games surfaced in Chinese social media posts. The derogatory slangs 小日本 (“Little Japan”), and 鬼子 (Guizi “demons”), the latter harking back to the nickname of the Imperial Japanese Army during World War II, populated online Olympics discussions.

Japanese netizens are aware of the derogatory terms Chinese nationalistic netizens use against them. In 2010, they fought back the 小日本 and 鬼子 insults by designing cute anime characters for these names. (Source1, Source2). 

August, 2021 is not a good time to be accused of liking the Japanese.

August, 2021 is not a good time to be accused of liking the Japanese, especially if the accused is a celebrity in the c-ent industry. The ongoing Clear and Bright Campaign (清朗行動) includes, as its 8th aim, the “regulation of stars and the organisations behind them, internet behaviour of their official fan clubs”. Possibly as a welcome to the summer vacation for the country’s youth, on June 15th, 2021, the Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC) had announced it would spend the next two months focused on rectifying the “chaos caused by fan circles” (‘飯圈’亂象). 

The Kris Wu (吳亦凡) case that had exploded in July then turned the public’s attention (and imagination) squarely on c-ent and the alleged “insanity” of c-ent fandoms, particularly those of idols. Wu’s fans had been met with ridicule and cyberbullying, especially those who had tried to “save” their idol by attempting to perform, when the incident had first broken out, what is customary per Chinese fan circle culture—to drown the criticisms with their supportive messages, their defences of their favourite stars; with their offences towards the accusers and in some cases, who the fans point to as the true culprits accompanied by the necessary “evidences”. Widespread reports of Wu’s fans planning a prison break after Wu’s arrest, propagated by the state media despite the number of such fans could’ve numbered to no more than a handful, further fuelled the narrative that c-ent idol worship has become cult-like, with the fans being so brainwashed that they can no longer distinguish right or wrong. 

This narrative of “fans would say or do anything to defend an idol” means that if or when accusations fall on the latter, little can be said in their defence even if the defence has its merits. Fans who make the defence are accused of being “brain-disabled” (腦殘); non-fans, of being brain-disabled fans in disguise.

Political cartoon from People’s Daily, 2021/08/02, 2 days after Kris Wu’s arrest (English translations by me). The slogan at the bottom says “The Deformed “Fan Circle Culture” has turned cold”. “Turning cold” (��了) means to lose popularity. (Source) 

Last but not least, in August 2021, the online platforms that host the content of state propaganda, of fandom talk, of c-idols’ works are also in quicksand themselves. Without getting into too much details, since earlier this year, the Chinese government has been targeting the tech giants, once considered untouchable with their significant contributions to the economy. Most international fans of c-ent are likely familiar with Tencent. Alibaba is also a major player in c-ent: it’s the owner of Youku, for example; it is also a major investor of Sina (the company in control of Weibo) and also—a piece of trivia for turtles—of Yuehua (Dd’s management company). These tech companies have been charged with antitrust violations, been the target of cybersecurity probes, accused by the state media of hurting China’s youth with “spiritual opium” in the form of video games etc, and their stock prices have been tumbling as a result. 

The tech giants, and the online platforms under their ownership, have therefore been extra vigilant, extra compliant to messages from the state, in attempts to gain the government’s favour. Just a few days ago (2021/08/21), Tencent vowed to donate 7.7 billion USD to the government, heeding Xi’s call for “common prosperity” (re-distribution of wealth), adding to the 7.7 billion USD it already donated in April for the government’s “sustainable social values” program. While both donations are officially philanthropic, most political and market watchers interpret the donations as Tencent trying to achieve a less-than-philanthropic goal—to get the state regulators off its back.

Following this line of logic then, these tech giants, and their online platforms, have got to be extra quick on their feet in August 2021 to sever ties with anyone perceived to have drawn the displeasure of the government. If that anyone is a c-ent idol, the loss for removing their works and fandom content is nothing compared to the price these companies may pay if the eyes of the state regulators train upon them: the latest fine Alibaba paid for breaking the anti-monopoly law, in April, amounted to 2.8 billion USD.  

All these factors considered, there are better days … far better days than the ones in August 2021, for a c-ent idol to have his Yasukuni Shrine visit become an item on Weibo’s hot search.

===

The Zhang Zhehan Incident Meta Series:

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3  <- YOU ARE HERE PART 4 PART 5

[winter-fox-queen]

The Gentry’s Gifts: Max Phillips

Hello!  This is sort of a sequel to the Pero story, in that we saw Max and now we know what he was doing there and what choice he needed to make.

Warnings:  Cursing. Angst. I had the trick of having to put both blank canvas characters into one story, lol.  But I think I finessed it.  The “you” character is a blank slate, mostly gender neutral (mentions of wanting to have children could sway your perception one way or the other.). Not betad.  

This is my late #writerwednesday entry, thank you to @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and @clydesducktape​

Prologue:

Max Phillips slammed the hospital doors open, eager to get outside.  The sound beeping machines seemed to echo in his ears, making them hurt.  The smell of the place stuck to the back of his throat.

He tilted his head back in the afternoon sun, and breathed in, breathed out.  Tried to make himself calm down.  The Autumn are cleared his head as he jogged across the road.  

“Bad day?”  A voice asked.

Between two benches, almost hidden in the orange leaves, was a woman, instead of the ‘Nam veteran he usually passed a few moments talking to.  Her wiry steel colored hair was in a messy bun, covered by a turban.  She wore layers and layers even though it was a warm fall day.  “Where’s Raffi?”  Max asked.

“His daughter found him.  He decided to try living with her again.”

Max nodded.  “I hope it works out.  She wasn’t…apparently he isn’t easy to live with.  Bad dreams.”

“It’ll be better now.”  She said with such serene certainty that Max believed her.  He gave a little wave and walked away.  

He was back, twenty minutes later.  He put a chocolate shake in front of her, and a boxed fried chicken meal.  If he had known his folklore…which, sadly, he would become intimately familiar with, he would have understood her amusement.  Milk, bread…these were the Old offerings.  

Instead he shrugged, uncomfortable.  “What?  I figure everyone likes chocolate.  And I needed to eat, too.”  He sat next to her.

“How old are you?” She asked, though she knew.

He shrugged.  “Seventeen.”  He buttered a biscuit and took a huge bite.  He ate like he was starving.  “Why?”

“You seem to be awfully young to be hanging out with homeless people.  Where are your parents?”  

He shrugged again.  “My mom’s gone.  My father…”. He pointed towards the hospital doors with his chin.  “He’s dying.”  He hunched over the greasy box of chicken, potato strips and biscuits, eating like it was the only thing keeping him sane.

She sighed.

He looked at her, and she shook her head, and ate the food he brought her.  You are going to go off the rails Max Phillips.  You are going to go off the rails so badly and there’s nothing I can do about it.

The Present:

He entered the library through the basement, crept up the stairway.  The first floor was nearly empty…the university library kept late hours so that students could cram late into the night, but it was Thirsty Thursday and most of the students were elsewhere.  

He waited until you were focused on the book cart again, back towards the main floor, and got himself around the corner.  Then he pulled out his cell and dialed the front desk.

You now turned to go to the phone, at least he hoped so, as he disconnected the call and opened the side door to the area behind the circulation desk…

You were there, leaning against the cart, arms folded.  “Nice try, but I know your tricks, Mister Phillips.”

He grinned and advanced on her, step by step.

“No no…”. You point a finger at him.  “Stay back, this is a work place…”. You shoot a look towards the front desk as he backs you into your office.   “You are going to lose me my job.”  You hiss at him, and he bends a little, and kisses you breathless.

“Quit.  I’ll take care of you.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders.  He’s cool to the touch.  It’s not disconcerting, not like it used to be.  “I wish I could.”

“Stop wishing...”

“If you say ‘and make your dreams a reality’, I’ll bite you.”  

Max looks offended.  “It’s a great slogan!  Do you know how many units of Losapill those golden words have sold?”

“I don’t understand how I can love someone so much and want to punch them so badly.”

He grins down at you.  “I can name several reasons why you love me.”

You smirk up at him.  “I’m sure you can…let me go, honey.  I’ve got to tell everyone we’re closing in half an hour.”  He listened to your voice on the loudspeaker, buttery and gentle and reassuring, and smiled a little. He could listen to that voice forever.  He could sell holy water to a priest, but so far all his skills had failed to net him the one thing he wanted.

He walks with you, as you check the restrooms (He even does the men’s for you on each floor, turning off the lights and blocking the doors open) and stands behind you, hands in his pockets, looking gloomy as you gently tell students to take their books to the front desk if they needed to check them out, that the library was closing shortly.

He waits, patiently, while you close up and lock the doors and usher the last people out.  

“I really wish you’d let me turn you,” he says when you are both in your car and on the way home.  Max often took the rooftops from his office to the university.  He was fast, and strong, and being fairly indestructible made him long for the thrill of possibly getting hurt, so he parkoured his way through the city once it got dark.  It was disgusting, how he looked so good after running and leaping five miles.

He shifts in his seat as you let the silence grow.  “Are you ignoring me?”

“Yes.”  You stop at a red light.  

“Why?  You said you’d think about it.  You’ve been thinking about it for a month.  Any idea where you are on it?  Like, from the scale of one to ten…”

You’ve been wanting to avoid this.  You’ve really been wanting to avoid this.  “Zero.”

She waits.  She waits for the torrent of salesmanship.  The spiel.  Why becoming a vampire and living forever is what she wants, she just doesn’t know it’s yet.  

For once, words fail him.  No quick comeback, no charming lines. “I can’t believe you don’t want to be with me.”  He says it so softly that you almost aren’t sure you heard it.  

You pull into the apartment parking lot, picks a spot quickly you can park and take his hands in yours.  “Max.  I do.  I really do.  But just…I don’t want to be a vampire.  I don’t want to give up the things I would have to give up?”

“Like what?  Death?  Getting old?  Getting sick?  Being weak?”  He pulls his hands away.  “I am offering you unlimited time.  Think of the things we can do together!  And you don’t have to kill…I haven't killed anyone in ages!”

“Sunlight.”  You say.  “Food.”  He makes a disgusted sound and looks out the window.  “A family.”  You take a deep breath.  “Children.”

He finally looks at you again.  “Then I won’t waste any more of your time.”  He raises his hand, and time goes wonky for a moment, and when things snap back into place, he’s gone.

You stay in your car a long time, hoping he’ll come back. Every step up to your apartment, you look around, hoping.  

It’s dawn, before you give up, dried out from crying, your mouth feels full of ashes and your heart full of regret.

The next day:

Max was not in a good mood the next day.  Usually he has a nice word for, if no one else, his PA, a miracle worker of a woman he’d always been fond of, but he just glared at her and slams his door shut.

Emails.  Reports.  He plowed into work.  

The door opened, and he ignored it, steadfast in the hope that whoever it was would go the fuck away.   I could always eat them.  I don’t have to be good anymore.

A cup thumped down on his desk.  He looked up.  He didn’t recognize the woman — her steel grey hair was neat, her suit elegant.  Her heart beat strangely, and he could tell she was not — quite—human.  Great.  Someone new from corporate?

“I thought you said that everyone loves chocolate?”  She said, pointing at the milkshake.  “You’ve come far, since we last spoke outside the hospital…”

He shook his head.  “I remember you, but…”. How did she come to be here? Why? His brain was still trying to match up the homeless lady with the epitome of corporate flash in front of him.  

“Now, I didn’t say you moved in a good direction.  How did the sweet boy who spent his last twenty on dinner for himself and a homeless woman end up being a bloodsucking asshole selling fake products?”

“It’s a long story. Let’s schedule an appointment, maybe for the next century?”

“Nope.”  She reached across the desk.  “You gonna drink this?”

He shook his head and she took the milkshake, leaned back in her chair, moving the straw back and forth in the lid, making an annoying shriek sound that hurt his ears.  

“Do you think I wanted this?”  He snapped at her.  Vampires didn’t really need much in the way of sleep, but he was tired.  Tired and hurt.  “And who gives you the right to fucking judge me?”

“I’m one of the gentry,” she said.  “That doesn’t give me the right, but it gives me the power.”

“You’re fae.  That explains it.  You don’t seem human.”  

“I thought they taught you the rules.  You never call us out so clearly.  Always call us by some euphemism and hope we don’t take a notion to turn our attention towards you.”

He threw up his hands.  “Why?  Why does it matter?”

“Because if I wanted to, Max Phillips, I could turn you back into the weak, dying, foolish mortal you once were.”

This stopped him.  “You could?”  He said carefully.  

“I could.”

“What’s the catch?”

She smiled.  “Good boy.  Maybe they did teach you something, after all.”  She put the milkshake on the desk.  ”You were…what?  Twenty, twenty one when you got turned?  I could, if I wanted to, make it as if you never got turned.  I could choose for you to age to the age you should be, had you not cheated death…or I could make you start from where you are right now.  If I was feeling so inclined.”

“Why would I want that?”  He scoffed.  “Do you think I want to get old and sick?  Do you think I want to spend the last year of my life in a hospital bed, unable to even piss for myself?  You think this is a fucking gift?  Enticing?  No.”

“So you don’t want a life with the librarian? Probably for the best. She is made out of sunlight and deserves so much better.”

He stopped.  He could feel the slipping…where the darker side of him started clambering up, eager to take control and rend and kill.  

“Hush.”  She said, and the blood stopped rushing in his ears, the fangs stopped aching.  “I shouldn’t needle.  It’s just so frustrating.  You were a sweet boy and you just allowed the bad in your life to make you…well, frankly, a bit of a jackass.”  She shoot him an apologetic look.  “OK, that was a cruddy apology.  But.  Back to the subject at hand.  Once, you were kind to me.  And if you do me a favor — one more favor — I will give you a choice.  A chance to choose a life for yourself instead of being a victim of bad choices and worse luck.  No strings.  No further price.”

He side eyed her a long moment.  He was intrigued, despite himself.  “What’s the favor?”

She took a small painting out of her pocket and slid it over to him.  “Another debt to pay…that woman has a soul mate out there.  I know where he is.  If you get her to my house tomorrow night, I can unite them, give them a chance at well deserved happiness.”

“Yeuch.”  He said, then picked up the painting.  “Wait.  That’s my PA.”

“Is it?  How delightful.  Isn’t just splendid how fate intervenes.”  She put a card on the desk.  “This is the address.  Hope to see you.”  She held up her finger.  “There is one thing.  She can’t know.  You have to get her there without her knowing why.  Alright?”

“Don’t hold your breath.”  He muttered.

“Good.  I am glad you understand.  Ciao!”

He picked up the card.  And cursed a bit.

NIght, in the time middle of nowhere:

“So, Mister Phillips…are you taking me out into the middle of the woods to murder me?”  His PA asked, laughing.  She didn’t know he was a vampire.  Telling people what he was hadn’t worked out very well at his last job, so he’d been much more circumspect this time.

“I promise, you are safe.  From me.  I don’t know what Corporate will do, though,” he said, turning down another road.  

“So, did they tell you what the meeting is about?”

“It’s meant to be a retreat.  All the heads of the various branches and their PA’s.  They want to re-envision the future of the company”. He took one hand off the wheel to put air quotes in the right place.  “Apparently they messed up your email address so we didn’t get the invite in time.  Someone caught it and called me directly.”

“I hope the place they picked is nice…”. She was looking out the window, trying to make out the road ahead.  “Carol in accounting is super jealous.  I think she has a bit of a crush on you…”

“Well, I am irresistible.”

“Mostly.”  She grinned at him.  A square of light grabbed her attention.  “I think we’re here.”

He pulled up to the house.  It looked sketchy at best, and the looks his PA were casting made him wonder if her trust was stretching a little too thin.

He got out and walked up to the porch.  The Fae came out this time wearing a chic, flowery dress.  She ignored Max and called to his PA.  “Don’t be afraid.  You are here so I can talk to you about your dreams…and by that, I mean the Spaniard, with the scar over his eye.”

The PA froze.  “You…you know about him?”  

“Go inside, dear, and I will tell you all about him.  But I need to talk to Max, here, first”

His PA stopped next to him, put her hand on his arm.  “Will you be OK?”

“Absolutely.  You know me.”

She went into the house.  

“Come here, Max.”  The Fae held out her hand, gesturing him to come up to the porch.  He did.  A card table was set up, with one chair.  Two cards lay face down.  “Here is your choice.  Are you ready?”

He stood there, looking at the table, and nodded.  Fear coursed through him, as strong as the day cold hands grabbed him from behind, teeth sinking into his throat…

She reached down and flipped over a card.  The Queen of Spades.  “Darkness ever lasting.  A vampire queen even now is looking for her equal.  She will choose you, and the two of you will know power beyond your wildest dreams…until enough people get angry about it and decide to deal with you both.  You will not love her, but who needs love when you have sex and death and all the power you ever hoped for?”

She reaches again, flips over another card.  The Queen of Hearts.  “And this.  This is life.  Your soul will wake up, and you will be twenty one and full of possibilities again.  Your heart will beat every beat that was stolen from you.  The slate will not be wiped entirely clean, but you will have a chance — a chance with your lovely librarian.  Children.  Be kind when you were once cruel, and live a decent, good life.”  

His lips were numb.  “How…how long?”

“Long enough.  You will not feel cheated.  It will be a plain sort of life, but it will be yours, and you will have the woman you love…some would say that is worth dying for.”

“What do you know about death?  Your kind just fade when they are tired of living.  You will never know the absolute fucking horror of your body betraying you.  The fucking humiliation that waits.  The pain.”

“No.”  She said softly.  “I do not.”  She kissed his temple.  “I am sorry.  If I had met you sooner, perhaps…but, in any case, I consider all debts paid.  When you are ready, pick up the card representing your choice, and rip it in half.  Choose well, Maxwell Phillips.  May we never meet again.”

He didn’t notice her leave.  He sat down, weak, at the table.

Life.  Death.  Life.  Death.  

He’d seen both his parents die terribly.  After he was turned, he’d mourned, then he realized the gift he’d been given.  No hospitals.  No lingering disease.  No pain.

His hand hovered next to the Queen of Spades.  No love, but power and sex.  He’d tried to recover, tried to be good, for you.  And he’d started feeling the guilt.  And with guilt, came all the excuses.  That he was living according to the nature that had been forced upon him.  That he was giving people a gift…they died, or they become something that could never die.

You don’t punish the wolf for being a wolf.

But that was why it had been easy to walk away.  Because you deserved better.  Not a vampire.  Not a wolf.  A man…

He did not hear the car, but he heard the thump of the other man’s steps as he mounted the porch.  

“She’s in there…”  he said, barely paying attention.  

When the other man left, he repeated what he said to him, in his head.  Choosing between life and death.

He picked up the Queen of Hearts.  His hands were shaking.  He ripped the card in half.  Darkness roared around him, pulled him under.

When he woke up, he was on the floor of his apartment.  

No.  His fucking.  College.  Dorm room.

“Dude, you started early.”  Evan’s stupid face appeared as he bent over him.  

Max wondered if he could punch him in the face.  It would feel really, really good to punch the other man in the face,

“OK, well, I’m going to an away game…see you sometime tomorrow.”

He put the palms of his hands in his eyes.  “Yeah…have fun.”

Evan stepped over him.  “See ya…wouldn’t want to be ya!”  The door slammed shut and Max raised both hands in a one finger salute towards it.

He made himself get up and go to the bathroom.  He looked younger but not better, per se.  What is wrong with me?  What’s this feeling?

It wasn’t just that he could feel his body working.  Feel breath (was breathing always so fucking noisy?) and heat beats and aches in his neck and back from laying weird on the floor.

He’d lived for years.  But right now, he was still the same angry, miserable hit mess of a man he’d been at this point of his life.  

A phone was ringing, he went and grabbed it.

“Hey Maxie.  Is Evan gone?”  Evan’s girlfriend.  Great.

Oh.  

“Yeah.  Yeah.  Look…”

“Awesome.  I bought the cutest bra and panties…”

And this is where, he thought, this is where he took the step to becoming the man you deserved him to be.  “That’s great.  But you know…I only want to fuck you because your boyfriend is an annoying twit.”

Shocked silence.  OK still an asshole.  Check.  So much for being a sweet boy when I was younger.  “Look. I meant what I said.  You are beautiful. You are probably far, far too good for Evan. Or maybe not, if you are willing to screw around with an asshole like me. In any case, you deserve better. But you have to decide what better is.”

This treated him to a string of profanity before the woman hung up.

Then, he walked to the infirmary, and asked for aspirin. And if there were any free spots for the therapist.

Sunday, the conversation between roommates went like this:

“So you were going to screw my girlfriend?”

A shrug — Max concentrated on the video game.  “Changed my mind.”

“Why?”

He paused the game.  “Because you deserve better.”

He felt Evan throw himself on the couch next to him.  “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“I don’t hate you. You’re just so fucking happy and peppy and optimistic and everything is going to be awesome but I think the world is shit and misery and maybe if you dialed it back a little I we could have conversations that didn’t end with me wanting to punch your face.”

“Dude.”  It sounded defeated and apologetic at the same time.

Max held a controller out to him. “Sorry. I’ll try to be less of an asshole.”

He took it.  “I’ll try to be less…happy?”

Max sighed.  “Just don’t get me kicked out, ok? I can’t afford anywhere else and I really don’t want to end up in Transylvania.”

Two years later, he decided he could go and find you.

Most people went to nice places on their spring break.

Max got on a bus and headed to a University in the next state.  They’d had their Spring break a week sooner.

There you were. Sitting cross legged on a bench with a man with a streak of blonde in his hair, and a suit coat with elbow patches.  Elbow patches.  Pretentious asshole.

You were tucking hair behind your ear. You liked him. Max wondered if he should leave, come back…in a year?  Three?  When did he have a right to become part of your life?  Did he even?

You look at him and smile and it is sunshine and he can’t leave.

The man on the bench says something about class.  “See you at work,” she tells him, and he lopes off in an easy walk to one of the brick covered class buildings.

Max approaches carefully.  “Hey.  Um.  I’m thinking about transferring here, wondered what it’s like?”

She shifted her bag over, even though there was plenty of room to sit, and he took it as an invite.  “Sure. What do you want to know?”

He gave her his best smile. “Everything. I want to know everything.”

[ssa-daddyhotchner]

Undercover - Chapter 1

Story Warnings: Smut, rape, mention of suicide, murder, domestic abuse, sexual assault, mention of abortion, addiction, torture, kidnapping.

Just a mention that these are serious topics and are not promoting anything and those topics are specifically for character development....

Chapter Selection

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I walk into the building and feel a rush of cool air. Dammit I wish I brought a sweater. When I walk into the office I get called by a man wearing a black suit with a red tie, 

"Agent y/l?" I turned my head and walk over to the man that called my name; my Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. "Yes?" 

"Can I see you in my office." He asked in a clam stern voice. I walked up to his door and walked inside.

He gestured for me to take a seat. "I see that you have a degree in criminology and criminal psychology."

"Yes sir." I started to rub my thump over my fingers. "Why the BAU", I couldn't read the emotions on his face. He was like stone. "I've always been interested in criminals and their behavior the why was the question I constantly asked myself when I'd see or read a story of a crime." 

He doesn't say anything he just looks. His brows furrowed with his eyes focused on my body language.

"Okay", Hotch stands up and holds out his hand. I follow his movements and shook his hand. He walks out from behind his desk and walks to the railing outside. "I'd like to introduce you to Agent y/n y/l."

A crowd of 6 people came around from all over the bullpen. Hotch pointed to all the people; "This is Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid, David Rossi, and Penelope Garcia,"

We all made conversation about how it was at the BAU and the types of cases they had gotten in the past. They were quick to disperse having paperwork to do. Hotch showed me to my desk and Garcia helped me get familiar with the system. 

"Hey you need some help." Morgan approached me. "I'm already in the system and I have nothing to work on." He looks a me. 

"I can show you around the building if you want; I'm already done my paperwork and I don't get off till 5 so." I shrug I've got nothing better to do. 

JJ walked into the bullpen with a file at hand, "We've got a case." Everyone files to the round table taking a seat. Emily looks around taking notice at y/n and Morgan's absence, "Where's y/n and Morgan." 

"He took her on a tour of the building, he was done his work." Reid says. 

Me and Morgan were walking back into the bullpen when we notice everyone at the round table.

Hotch gave Morgan a disappointing look and showed me no emotion. "Don't be late. Garica." He wanted her to start. 

Garcia starts ,"16 yr old Julia Martin went missing in Georgetown, Delaware Tuesday night at 10:32pm. She goes to Sussex Central High School, she is a sophomore and keeps to herself, she has a few close friends. She doesn't go out very often." 

Now it's common knowledge that with cases like these it's time sensitive. "Wheels up in 30", We all head out to get our go bags, getting into the SUVs and heading to the jet.

We start to go over the case again. Hotch starts, "Prentiss, Morgan and I will go to the police station to set up, Reid and JJ go talk to the family. 

Y/N you're with Rossi I want you guys to go to the school and talk to her teachers and friends."

The plane lands and we all get into the cars.

Rossi gets into the driver's seat. "So how do you like it so far." He continues to look at the road. 

"It's great I've always wanted to be in the BAU since I was a kid." I look at Rossi, "Is Hotch always so serious?" He glances at me, "Most of the time but he'll warm up to you."

The rest of the car ride is filled with small conversation. 

We get to the school and walk and start talking to her teachers. I asked "What was Julia like in class? Did she talk to anybody that she usually didn't and how were her grades?"

"She didn't really talk to anyone other than a few of her friends. I would try and help her to talk but she would end up doing the work independently even with a group and she would do all the work and as for her grades they were great. She was an A, B student for the most part."

The rest of the teachers said the same thing as the first. 

"Okay so if nothing was going on at school and there were no suspicious people hanging around then they must have grabbed her at home."

 I told Rossi as we walked back to the car. Someone caught our attention. There was a boy leaning against our car. 

"Can we help you", Rossi asked. "I might know what happened to Julia, she was talking to this guy online... she might have mentioned that she was gonna meet up with him." 

"Can you come by the station later we're gonna need to talk to you", I said and he agreed. 

We drive back to the police station and the rest of the team is there. "So apparently Julia was talking to someone online and her friend thinks that's who might have taken her." Rossi says. 

"And she's never met this guy. He doesn't even go to the same school according to her friend" I continue, "The friend's name is Kevin Philips and he's coming by tomorrow."

"Okay everyone we have a long day tomorrow let's get some rest." Hotch tells the team.

We go outside to the cars and drive over to the hotel. "There were only four rooms left so we're gonna need to share.

 JJ and Emily I'm assuming you two are gonna share, Morgan and I will share so that leaves Hotch and y/n." Hotch stares at Rossi

"So you just get a room to yourself?" "Exactly." He walked off going to his room. 

Of course.. "Are you ok with that, you can just share a room with JJ and I." 

"No really it's fine." It wasn't fine. It was my first case and I sharing a room with my boss. Not just my boss but someone I found attractive. 

Hotch grabs the key and we walk to the room. He walks in, drops his stuff on the chair and I just look at him then the bed. "What is it?"

"Um there's only one bed."

He looks at the bed and then the floor. "If it bothers you I can sleep on the floor I dont mind." 

"No, it's ok, it's a large bed." He then turns around, grabs a towel and hops into the shower. I heat up our leftovers from lunch; I know he hasn’t eaten since this afternoon. 

I put on some music and I start to change into a black crop top and grey sweatpants when he walks out of the bathroom. 

I don't notice him at first but I can feel his eyes traveling up my body. I turned around and he's looking at me and I was staring at him. 

He was buff, not ripped, but perfectly toned. You could clearly tell he had abs and a V line that went straight to..... I hadn't put on my clothes yet I was only in a black lace bra and some matching underwear.

He kept staring and I was too lost in thought to do anything about it. "I'm sorry", and he turned around and walked back into the bathroom out of embarrassment. "It's ok Hotch really." 

"You sure." "Yes I'm sure." He walked back out with just the towel when I finished changing. While I was eating at one of the desks. 

There was a mirror in front of me and I could see him perfectly. While I was chewing I could hear a faint voice. "y/n...y/n" I snapped to look up at his eyes through the mirror. 

"Uhh you were staring." I didn't answer but I didn't have too. The brush rose to my cheeks and he could tell.

"You made my food?", "Yeah i knew you hadn't eaten so I figured."

Once I finished I turned off most of the lights as Hotch was still awake; I crawled under the covers and drifted off to sleep.

Aaron POV

I finished up eating the food she made me. I noticed the music she had on was still playing, the song was Brian Crain - Earth. 

She was already sleeping...she looked so beautiful and peaceful. I turned off the music and crawled into bed. She didn't move and I went to sleep. 

I woke up at 2am and her arms wrapped around my torso. Her head was laying on my chest; I slowly got up and went to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and saw the sweat through my shirt so I took it off.

I went back into bed and right as I put one foot in she grabs my hand and pulls me toward her.

I'm now laying next to her with my arm wrapped around her back with my hand on her waist. She pulls me closer to her, puts her head back on my chest, and put a hand at the base of my neck. 

"Where'd you go", she whispered into my ear. I got chills that ran up and down my spine.

"I had to go for a second but I'm back now", my voice was soft and low almost a whisper as I didn't wanna wake her even more. It was nice, I did like her. 

She nestles her head in the crook of my neck. I felt her breath on my body. We both just drift in each other's arms.

She's just so beautiful... everything about her. The dips and curves of her body to the sound of her voice.

I notice something though, the scars running down her back. Like someone had dragged a knife down it.

-----------------------------------

I woke up first again this time; it was 6am. I didn't wanna wake y/n so I just stayed in bed laying down looking at her. 

This time she wasn't holding me, she was almost on top of me; I could feel her heart beat at a steady pace. Her legs were on mine, her face nestled into my chest and her arms around my body. 

I put my hands on her holding her close. After about 10min she started to open her eyes. "Hey", I said with a soft tone. Surprisingly she looked at me and didn't visibly freak out but her heart rate was picking up, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip. 

"How'd you sleep", I asked her and she looked down at my chest. "It was good", She said lazily. Y/N let out a loud sigh and got up into the bathroom. 

The heat that was next to me started to fade away as her side of the bed got cold. I heard the shower turn on when I went to get some food. 

When I came back she was out of the shower and dressed. "I got you some coffee." She took it from my hand and waited for me to get ready for work.

Y/N POV

Oh my god, I was sleeping on my boss....all night. I enjoyed it- he didn't get up when he saw me. Did he enjoy it too?

I get out of the shower and Hotch is gone. I started to get changed; I put on a white dress shirt and a black slacks with black heels. I hear someone knock at the door. 

It was Hotch holding some coffee and two muffins. "I got you some coffee." He said holding it out.

I start eating my food and he started asking me questions. "So what made you wanna join the FBI?", that was one question I didn't really wanna answer right now. 

"It was my sister for the most part but also the fact that basically my whole family was involved in the government."

"Why your sister?", He looked at me studying seeing how I was reacting. When he asked that question my heart sank into my stomach. "She-", I was trying not to cry; I took a big gulp. 

"She was murdered when I was teenager, I was the one who found the body...It was a long time ago but it still hurts", tears started to fill my eyes and my face was getting red. I looked up for a moment trying to blink the tears away. 

There was a flash of regret in his eyes, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get upset." 

"No it's okay you didn't know." I was trying to hold it together clearly it wasn't working when he walked over to me, he put his arms around my waist and back and hugged me. 

I was caught off guard by the sign of affection but I put my arms around him and hugged him tight. 

"it's okay, I'm sorry." A few tears managed to escape from my eyes; they rolled down my face they were absorbed by his shirt. He cupped my face and wanted me to look at him. 

He didn't say anything, he used his thumb to wipe the tears that were still falling from my face and hugged me again.

I started to calm down in his arms listening to his breathing. I felt protected, secure, and warm. Being in his embrace was like a shield; nothing else mattered. 

Time skip

While waiting for Kevin to get here we all are gathered around talking. I walked over to Reid; he has his nose buried in a book, "Hey." He looked up at me. "Hey", "How's it going." I was getting a little nervous running my thumb along my other fingers. 

He seemed to notice when his face softened a bit. "Good"

"Look I'm sorry in advance I'm not really good with conversation." I said as he stood up from the chair. "It's okay neither am I, I always worry if I'm saying too much or saying the wrong thing." 

Knowing there was someone else on the team that was also awkward it was comforting. "Well since we'll be working together a lot how about when we finish this we go get a cup of coffee." 

His shoulders eased and his eyes lit up. "Yeah I'd like that." I can tell the corners of his mouth were turning up and his cheeks were slightly pink. 

Reid sat back down when I walked away he looked slightly disappointed but resumed reading. I was about to talk to Morgan but Kevin walked into the station. 

JJ walked up to him, "Kevin?" He nodded. "Follow me", JJ brought him to a back office and sat him down. "Before Julia left did she say anything to you."

Kevin started, "I might be her best friend but she didn't tell me much only that she'd been talking to him for a few months and that he wanted to meet up with her. She said his name was Danny. He went to another high school but she didn't say which one, he was 17, and lived near Middletown or New Castle; I don't remember which. If it were up to her she wouldn't have told me at all, I was bugging her about it and she finally let it out." 

Morgan called Garcia, "Hey baby girl, Do you think you can trace her phone?", then Garcia started talking "Honey if you don't think I can do that then your in for a surprise on what I can do." Morgan laughed. He's obviously the flirty one. 

"Her phone is off best I can do is get the last known location....and that is in...New Castle Glasgow Park, its roughly an hour and 30 away." "Alright thanks babygirl"

"I'll call you back if it goes online." She ended the phone call and told the team.

Reid looked at Hotch, Morgan and I. "Either that's where they took her or she really didn't wanna get caught", I stated. 

"Y/N and I will drive up there." Hotch glances at me and nodded his head towards the door. 

The drive with Hotch was nice. We talked and I learned he had a brother in New York that works as a chef. His dad was a lawyer and his mom was a nurse. He likes dogs, Bon Jovi, and the beatles. 

I told him more about my sister, how my mom was a Marine and my dad was a detective. I told him I liked the beatles, cold weather, and Elvis. 

When we got to the park we noticed there was no one there, it was silent and secluded. "Walk with me", I tugged his hand gesturing to follow me. "Were on a case", "I know were just looking around." 

His eyes looked down at my hand on his, I let go and my cheeks blushed, he took notice; the corners of his mouth turning upwards. There was no one else on the trail.

Trees surrounding the majority of the area. "What did you do.. ya know before this." As we were walking he averted his gaze from the ground to me. "Before the FBI?" I turned slightly. "Yeah", "I was a prosecutor." 

I slowed my steps, "Why'd you stop, you were still putting the criminals away. Why'd you lose interest." He smiled a bit when he looked to the side to see me already looking at him. 

"I don't know, I guess it was because I was tried of it. When those cases came to me they had already committed the crime. I guess I thought I wasn't doing enough. I wanted to get them before those cases reached my desk." 

We were approaching some of the wooded pathways that broke of in two directions.

That's when we stopped, I walked in front of him and kept my eyes of the ground before looking up. 

"Well sir congrats you were successful. I mean think of how many lives you've saved based on that one decision you made." His eyes softened and his face eased his shoulders dropped, he was relaxed. 

"What's that", he points to the ground in front of one of the gates by the woods. I bend down and grabbed it, "It's a phone. Still has power, no password." 

Hotch calls Garcia, "Hello sir what can I do you for." "Can you run a number for me...302-555-4276." After a few seconds and the sound of typing she speaks. 

"The number is registered to a.. Julia Martin. Sir, that's her phone" Hotch ends the call. 

"The phone was in front of the woods if you were taking someone to a public park to meet with them the woods would be an easy exit", He states. 

Hotch gestures me to continue walking into the woods I look at him then the woods. "No you're going first", I put my hands up and he stares down and chuckles. "You scared?", I shrug and grin, "Maybe."

"Think about it in the movies where do the people go missing" I pause before continuing, "the woods and I'm not gonna be one of those people." 

While he's stiffing a laugh I follow behind him. It's starting to get dark so we pick up the pace. We go on for 2 miles before I stop him, "Right there", I point to a broken house at a clearing.

I remove my gun, he takes the back while I stay in the front with my gun raised. 

I hear Hotchs footsteps through the house, I walk in the front door; seeing nothing but broken chairs, torn wallpaper, and rotting wood. He signals me to go upstairs. 

The floor creaking below me feeling like it's going to fall any second. I get to the top and check the rooms. There's a chair in the middle of the room, blood on the walls and clothes covering the floor but they are worn and discolored. They've been for awhile. 

As I go back downstairs I fall through into the basement, "Fuck!". "Y/N what happened, are you okay." "I'm fine", I say strained. I slammed my back on the concrete knocking the wind out of me. 

I hear something moving in the room with me. "Hotch there's something down here." I call out to him yelling in a whisper. 

[detective-grey]

Commentary

part 2 of "Wayhaven Frights 2021 - Connections" prompt "Thriller"

pairing: detective jasmine ricci x mason

rating: t

summary: Jasmine just wants to watch her favorite thriller movie to ring in the new Spooky Season, but her idea of enjoying a movie and Mason's are two different things.

read on ao3

She made her way quietly through the house, knife in hand, casting shaky glances around as shadows danced and twisted about.

Her breath caught in her throat as her foot creaked loudly on a floorboard. Sweat glistened on her forehead, mixing with the blood that flowed at an alarming rate from a cut above her brow.

She froze, listening, clinging to any noise she could in hopes that the pounding of her heart couldn’t be heard above the rattled old air conditioning unit blowing out of the nearby window.

Sure that she hadn’t been heard, she turned around to find him standing right behind her.

She screamed-

“If you had just listened to me, you wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“Why do you watch this shit if you’re not even going to enjoy it?”

Jasmine looked at Mason with a questioning glance. “What do you mean? This is one of my favorite movies, I literally watch it every year.”

He rolled his eyes. “Then why are you yelling at the screen and telling the characters that they’re idiots?”

She laughed, reaching towards the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of them. “I just like to be more of an ‘active’ watcher of films.”

They were sprawled out across the soft, worn leather couch in the living room of her apartment. Jasmine had wrapped a grey fuzzy blanket around her shoulders as she leaned against the arm of the couch. Mason lounged on the opposite end, an arm thrown across the back of it and a leg kicked up on the table. He was sulking slightly, a little miffed at the fact that his mind had traveled to other activities once he came in and saw Jasmine turning all the lights off and lighting some candles, watching him with that damn smirk of hers.

“Has it ever occurred to you that some people don’t like it when you talk through movies?”

Focusing back on the screen of her small tv, Jasmine replied, “ah, but there’s a difference. I don’t ‘talk through movies,’ I offer meaningful commentary about the movie. So it’s not really the same thing.”

She maneuvered out of his grasp and flung herself over the railing of the stairway, more willing to break a leg than lose her life at the hands of him. He stared after her, his eyes cold and empty.

He gave her a head start.

“See, look at that! She jumps over the banister when she could have easily made it into the room with the fire escape out the window,” Jasmine groaned, shaking her head with an exasperated smile.

She could feel him glaring at the side of her head and she threw a kernel at him while still watching the screen. “Just sit over there and enjoy my extremely necessary commentary while we watch this big dummy get chased by a murderer.”

In a blink, Jasmine found herself on her back looking up into Mason’s eyes, so dark they appeared black in the low light.

“Who said your commentary is necessary,” he grumbled, his hands on either side of her head as he lowered his full weight over her.

She arched a brow, a teasing smile playing across her lips. “Why, I did of course. Did you have something to say about it, Mason?”

He twisted his fingers into the thick dark brown hair at the base of her neck and pulled slightly. A slight moan escaped her as her head tilted back and he brought his lips to the now exposed skin.

“Tell you what, Sweetheart,” he mumbled between small bites and kisses. “You can keep watching your damn movie, but the only noises I want to hear out of your mouth are the ones I make you say. Got it?”

He accented each word with a nip of his teeth, a lick of his tongue. Jasmine ran her fingers up and down his back and his arms, wanting to feel every part of him. She then brought her hands to his face so that she could guide his lips to her own, almost melting at the first familiar taste of him.

He always tasted faintly of tobacco and something...slightly more metallic. The day she realized that the iron taste probably came from his diet hadn’t exactly been the best day of her life. But now, though it slightly weirded her out, she had to admit she kind of liked it. Not in the sense that she would pop a straw into the first blood bag she saw, but it did add to the experience of kissing Mason.

And, oh, what an experience it was.

The years had been kind in giving him the time to practice his technique to the point where she felt as if she were a violin and he a master player, stroking and plucking her strings with ease. He moved and worked her like bringing her pleasure wasn’t only second nature, but his ultimate goal in life, the one thing that could truly bring him satisfaction. Every sweep of his tongue or ministration of his hips on hers brought her closer and closer to-

The tv shut off.

Jasmine sat straight up on the couch, much to Mason’s disapproval. She looked around and noticed that the ceiling fan slowly spun to a stop and the clock on the oven no longer glowed its usual blue light.

“The power went out,” she mused.

“And,” Mason asked, already leaning forward to finish what he’d started.

She held a finger up to his lips as she turned to look out the window. It had apparently begun to rain, though she couldn’t remember hearing the storm start. Later, she would look back and realize that the weather forecast had predicted clear skies for the week, but at the time she merely stared out into the night periodically illuminated by streaks of lightning.

Turning back to Mason, she could just make out his face in the flickering orange light of the candles burning softly on the table.

“We were almost at my favorite part of the movie,” she pouted, removing her finger from Mason’s lips.

“Damn,” he groaned, again pushing her to lie back on the couch. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist to pull him close against her. “Guess we’ll just have to get to my favorite part.”

The storm raged on through the night. The power eventually came back on and the candles eventually burned out, but neither Jasmine nor Mason particularly noticed.

Their attentions were entirely elsewhere...

[hezurkubo]

When D’jinn meets Gene or “Dramatic Pot Twist!”

Hey there! Just wanted to start off by saying that in order to give this story the desired outcome I was looking for I added in some extra events that I thought could have canonically taken place during certain key moments in “The Last Adventure!” While we as the audience don’t know what happened to everyone else while the main characters were off driving the main plot along I still tried to come up with a side story that seemed plausible at least in terms of timing.

If I overlooked anything and it comes off as complete nonsense that throws off the original plot than please consider this an AU where the side characters play a more proactive role in kicking the butts of F.O.W.L.’s lackeys while our main cast took care of Bradford. This is mostly to satisfy my craving for a meeting that never happened in canon and I still hope that whoever decides to read enjoys this dumb story of mine. With that said.........

“SHABOOEY!”

That was all Gene managed to exclaim before he felt himself vanish in a dramatic flash. He found himself being dragged through the pocket void between realities, a place he’d frequented many times since his existence had been tied to the trinket he’d been forced to call home. While he had yet to feel the familiar power of the ‘Seal of Solion’ connecting him to his lamp, he knew it was only a matter of time.

 “Huh, wish I coulda at least thanked her for saving me. Guess now it’s back to the good ol...”

His thoughts were interrupted by a rather abrupt tug to the side through a sudden blinding light, giving Gene just enough time to let out a yelp before tumbling beak first onto a cold hard surface. Groaning as he got to his feet, the duck had to double-take as he got a first look at his surroundings. 

And it was, unfortunately, a very familiar site.

He’d become well acquainted with the row upon row of containment units in which the people F.O.W.L. saw as threats to their ‘final goal’ were imprisoned.

“Oh-keeeeey, so.... another dramatic plot twist, shoulda expected that in a ninety minute finale, though not so much for a short cameo appearance.”

Although he was pretty sure what would happen, and despite knowing the repercussions, Gene focused his power and winced in painful anticipation as he tried to will himself out of the current space he occupied.  

“Okey three, two, one...SHABOOEY!”

He felt a small spark of magic begin to bubble up within him, allowing him to hope that maybe he could....

ZAP!

The genie doubled over as a short but powerful electric shock coursed through his body. He had been unfortunate enough to witness others struggle for freedom and receive the same treatment, and while he doubted it’d be different for him he felt that he at least had to try. After all, he was magic and it couldn’t possibly hurt that bad....right?

He had been partially correct, but it was still VERY unpleasant.

Thankfully the shock wore off quickly, but rather than test his chances again he moved to the center of the cubicle and sat in the dark, drawing his legs into himself as he rested his arms atop of them and let out a sigh.

 “Guess old Blotty really made sure I couldn’t get out of dodge.”

“Not like I’d have a choice anyway...” Gene couldn’t help but think bitterly while resting the the bottom of his beak on his arm. He’d already exchanged one prison for another, so what difference did it make? 

Gene let the moments tick on by as he attempted to drown out everything else, which had so far been surprisingly easy despite being surrounded by people....

...And then, despite his best efforts, a familiar thought reared it’s ugly head.

Many of these people were trapped here because of him.

Because the Blot had used his power.

Because he had given him the information needed to capture them.

And he had watched helplessly, his screams for them to run drowned out by their own as they were zapped of their magic, easy for the Eggheads to swoop them up and bring them to this hopeless place while they waited to be done away with for good.

 And now Gene was here. He supposed it was fitting, as unwilling as an accomplice he had been in all of this, he still felt deep despair for having been used as a tool for the inevitable destruction of so many innocent lives.

And he would join them. Gene buried his head further into his lap, holding back sniffles as he felt his eyes stinging.

“...At least it’s roomier in here...”

“KA-BOOM!”

“Gyaaa!!! Bees!!! AAAHHH!”

The genie’s head quickly shot up, eyes widening as he took in the commotion echoing off the library’s lofty walls. Scrambling to his feet, he dashed to the front of his cell, pressing his ear against the glass. 

Someone was fighting out there, and from the sounds of it they were facing off against Steelbeak. 

The kid that had freed him, her friends were still fighting F.O.W.L.

Gene couldn’t fight the small smile that began to spread across his beak despite his teary eyes.

He would never be free, not even if he got out of here. But everyone else still had a chance. There was still hope that this could be made right.

“And the plot thickens!”

 __________

Faris Djinn watched helplessly from his prison as Scrooge’s allies valiantly fought against the rooster F.O.W.L. Agent. Clenching his fists to his sides, the desire to unsheathe his sword and join them against these honorless enemies boiled within him, but he knew it was of no use so long as he was trapped like this. Still, that gave him all the more reason to wish to help the group of birds somehow. This was finally everyone’s chance to escape! 

The canine warrior had been brought to this strange place after being ambushed and knocked unconscious by his cowardly foe, whom he had barely caught a glimpse of. When he woke up, he was surrounded by blocks of blacked out cubes in what looked like a giant storage facility. After about a day or two, he learned that his first assumptions had been somewhat true. 

From what he’d gathered through listening to hushed conversations exchanged while the security guards were busy, and from a few familiar faces detained with him, including his good friend Amunet, he came to realize they had been brought there because they had been labeled as dangerous by simply knowing or associating with Scrooge McDuck and his family. 

From close family members and friends to bitter enemies, or from good and bad to neutral, nobody seemed to be spared. It made D’jinn seethe at the injustice of it all, while villains such as the Beagle Boys and the infamous Magica de Spell may have deserved such treatment, this F.O.W.L. organization was indiscriminately locking away so many innocent people. He had even seen them lock up a couple of elderly ducks that could have easily passed as Scrooge’s own parents 

(Impossible, he thought, for a man of McDuck’s age)

 but not before the old woman had let loose a string of unintelligible words that D’jinn was pretty sure were some colorful expletives.

It appeared that the enemy had overlooked nothing, and any means of escape had been locked away along with them. The canine began to lose track of time as freedom seemed more and more impossible.

But D’jinn remained resolute that if anyone could pull off the impossible, it’d be Scrooge McDuck.

 Then, a strangely dressed duck decked in a dark flowing cape and hat swooped in, followed by his heavily armored companion, and while they were acting antagonistic towards each other the dog had a feeling they had come to help. His hopes soared even higher when Scrooge’s pilot crashed in after them. At last help had come.

Then that nefarious Steelbeak had chosen to fight underhandedly, controlling the Beagle Boys and the dread sorceress herself as the heroes fought valiantly back before being imprisoned as well, and any hope of freedom appeared to rest on the shoulders of Launchpad McQuack, Scrooge’s pilot.

 D’jinn winced as the poor duck was thrown about and beaten to the ground, unfairly outmatched in strength and numbers.

“Get back up!”

“You got this!”

As big and strong as he seemed in appearance, the warrior canine doubted the pilot could last at this rate, watching from the dark with urgency as he struggled to lift his head.

“Ugh... I’m sorry, I’m no hero...”

D’jinn shook with righteous indignation.

‘No! You cannot give up...!’

He couldn’t just stand by, there had to be something he could do to help, anything....

“That’s ridiculous! You helped inspire me to be a hero!”

He watched in anticipation as Launchpad gathered enough strength to look their way, unsure gaze focused on his friends as they encouraged him to keep fighting.

“And me pal.”

A new source of light brought their attention to the square that held the young red headed duck and the strangely proportioned robot child, both looking back at Launchpad with hope and confidence.

“Same here.” 

The prison above them lit up, revealing a familiar Moonlander.

“I as well, Earth Launchpad.”

The room quickly grew brighter as, one after another, everyone stepped forward to show the duck that they believed in him. 

And so did D’jinn.

His cubicle lit up as his hope returned.

“Blabbidy-Baloonersize!”

....Later....

Gene watched elated as scores of people poured out from their now-opened confines and began to wreak havoc on anyone unlucky enough to be a F.O.W.L. lackey. It was an unspoken call to arms, inspired by Scrooge’s pilot and, while the genie hadn’t seen what had actually happened, Steelbeak running away while screaming in terror was a pretty clear indication that the good guys were gaining the upper hand. 

Gene was so relieved that everyone had been freed, he almost missed Launchpad and company dashing towards the main entrance before slipping out of sight. 

He took another look around him, and couldn’t help but quirk the edges of his beak up in a mischievous grin.

  “Well.... dunno how long I’ll be sticking around for, might as well be part of the fun...”

“SHABOOEY!!!”

_______

There was low buzz followed by a click, and suddenly the front of his enclosure swung open. Eyes narrowing in careful focus, D’jinn stepped out from his prison and into what was quickly becoming a losing battle for F.O.W.L.’s remaining underlings.

Scrooge’s family had been triumphant, and he was now free to assist in thwarting what remained of their foes once and for all. The canine reached for his hip, unsheathing his sword and slicing it through the air before resting it with his arm against his side. The McDucks may be fighting greater forces, but that didn’t mean there weren’t loose ends to tie up.

“SHABOOEY!”

Ears perking under his keffiyeh, D’jinn turned to the side and lifted his head just in time to see something rather peculiar rounding the corner. It appeared to be a small duck, but he was gliding through the air as if there was nothing to it, a trail of smoke billowing from his lower body.

For a single moment, D’jinn lost his carefully guarded composure as his eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped.

It was as if all those fantastic stories he’d heard growing up had come to life in front of him.

He recalled the hushed conversations among a few of his fellow prisoners, all regarding the terrifying power the Phantom Blot wielded when he came after them. 

However, what now came to the forefront of D’jinn’s mind were their descriptions of the strange and obviously magical little guy smooshed to an impossible degree within the Blot’s gauntlet. He didn’t quite understand what they could be referring to, but now, despite his usually serious demeanor, D’jinn couldn’t stop the small bit of wonderment from rising up in him, momentarily forgetting where he was.

“Could it really be...?” 

A loud crash from above followed by a chorus of screaming Eggheads brought him back to reality. The warrior shook his head, scowling to himself for losing focus.

“No, I must not waver! The task at hand requires a warrior’s spirit!”

Sword at the ready, D’jinn quickly made his way towards the sounds of fighting, the lingering thoughts of his ancestors replaced with the challenge to come. He still chanced to glance back one more time at the spot he had last seen that duck, hoping that he’d be able to see him again once all of this was over.

....Later....

With F.O.W.L. defeated and it’s remaining agents scattered, everyone wasted no time in congratulating the heroes of the hour, rushing at McDuck and family as they made their way down the library tower. It was a whirlwind of joyful cries and relieved sighs as the exhausted but happy family meandered amongst the crowd, breaking up into teams to prepare for their departure.

With everything finally settling down, Gene casually sat in midair as everyone else began to disperse and make preparations of their own, all the while chatting amongst each other. He figured it must have been a sense of camaraderie that came with surviving such an ordeal, and while he wished he could fully indulge in the same feelings of comfort, he couldn’t help but feel on edge. 

The powers that bound him to the lamp hadn’t reclaimed him yet. 

He knew that couldn’t last much longer, whatever forces the Phantom Blot had used to disrupt the seal’s power and separate him from his prison

....no, home....

wouldn’t be able to hold on their own, now that the Blot was gone and Gene was free from any magic-proof confinement. 

Earlier, before the extra trepidation had sunk in, he did try to enjoy his temporary freedom for as long as it lasted. 

And oh, how he wished it lasted. 

The genie chatted briefly with the young sorceress that had freed him, but not until after she and a younger hummingbird finally stopped hugging the pink clad girl, who he recognized as the little spitfire who tied him up and interrogated him during the entertaining fiasco that was Donald’s wish for a ‘perfect family’. 

Despite the now growing feeling that this would all end soon, Gene had enjoyed himself. It was nice to just interact with others again and not be at someone’s beck and call. While he did like using his powers to have fun with mortals, there were more than enough terrible things he’d been forced to do, and the ability to simply be among people he knew couldn’t demand something of him was a rare reprieve.  One he probably wouldn’t be getting again.

Now, with the excitement beginning to wind down, Gene decided to take in the busy atmosphere, not expecting anyone to notice him up there with how preoccupied they all were. 

“Pardon me...”

The duck quickly spun around in midair, looking down and catching the sharp gaze of a rather serious looking canine all dressed in dark, save for a few splashes of red. He was staring up at him so intensely that Gene jokingly thought if he looked at him any harder lasers would shoot from his eyes.

“Hmmm... an interesting side character, guess a little more mingling wouldn’t hurt.”

Without missing a beat, Gene floated down from his place above the crowd to hover at eye level with the stranger.

 “Well He-llo there! Always nice to meet a new face!” he said eagerly, flashing a grin that he hoped came off as charismatic and giving a wink.

The dog’s eyes widened for a few seconds before returning to his serious expression. Trying to act nonplussed by the lack of enthusiasm, the duck waved his arm to conjure a neon sign above him, his name spelled in blinking lights. Smile unwavering, he held out his hand.

“Name’s Gene! Nice to meet ya!”

The dog stared at the outstretched appendage, his hesitance causing Gene’s excitement to falter. Luckily, it wasn’t long before he was reaching out and gripping his hand in a firm but friendly shake.

“Faris D’jinn. It is an honor.” He said, head bowing slightly.

“Woah, an honor? Kinda formal, but I think I like it.”

Gene suddenly perked in realization. ‘Faris’, if he recalled, meant knight or horseman, and he couldn’t help but think how it suited the noble looking gentleman in front of him. And with a surname like ‘D’jinn’, well, why would the genie not find that interesting? He became so uncharacteristically lost in these thoughts that he almost failed to realize that his companion was staring at him a bit oddly, and he was suddenly aware that he was still holding his hand. 

Awkwardly clearing his throat, Gene hovered back slightly while relinquishing his grip, trying to hide how awkward he felt by widening his smile.

He was sure he looked half crazy.

“Well Mr. D’jinn, I must say it’s a pleasure to meet such polite and proper ol’ gent and- Ooooh!”

Gene was at his side so fast that the warrior nearly jumped away in surprise as the genie’s eyes sparkled with curiosity at the sight of his sword’s hilt peeking from his robes.

“Oh-hoho, that’s quite a blade you got there. It almost looks like... I wanna say late Mamluk dynasty, Burji maybe...? But that can’t be right, unless it’s a really good replica.”

If D’jinn was shocked by his educated guess he hid it well, although Gene did notice the dog’s brow raise slightly from were it was hidden under the hem of his headdress.

“You are quite wise, although I would not expect anything less from a great and mystical genie.”

Gene’s eyes shot up from the finely crafted blade to the canine’s face. The gaze that met him was serious but not in a way that came off as cruel or accusatory. Still, that look, accompanied by such a bold statement, made the duck want to buckle his knees and shrink into himself.

Just who was this guy?

“Are you not a genie?”

The duck suppressed the urge to gulp at the quiet forcefulness behind the simple inquiry. It was after all a sensible question, he did more or less fit the description of his kind, though he liked to think he set himself apart with his showman’s flare because, servant or not, he still liked seeing others smile.

Now, his inner showman was currently at a loss for words, opting for wanting to hide his face in his turban.

“Get it together Genester! You heard him, how ‘great and mystical’ do you think you look right now?”

Trying to shake of the awkwardness, he disappeared from D’jinns side to reappear in front of him in a puff of smoke. 

“Yessir! One-hundred percent bonafide and certified wish-granting genie, that’s me!” Gene exclaimed, conjuring up a laminated license that read ‘Certified Genie: Gene C. Baba’ complete with a photo of himself smiling awkwardly while donning a thick pair eyeglasses and suspenders.

D’jinn stayed unwaveringly quiet as the duck nearly shoved the card to his face.

“He he... yeah, funny thing though, the whole ‘wish-granting’ part of my deal is a bit... compromised at the moment. Y’see, only the holder of a genie’s lamp can control said genie, i.e., me” Gene pulled an arrow out of thin air and pointed towards himself “and big bad and Blotty left my lamp behind along with the rest of the lost treasure of Collie Baba when he sucked me into that fancy oven-mitt of his, you’d think with all his magical know-how he wouldn’t forget that important tidbit, right?” 

Why did he sound so nervous?

“And I tell you what, I’m glad I’m not strapped to that thing anymore...!”

D’jinns eyes widened as a grim realization dawned on him.

“So, it is true. The device the Phantom Blot carried with him, the one he used to steal the magic from those he hunted...”

“I swear it was totally against my will!”

The canine shook his head. “No, I heard of its use from other captives, some who were brought here months before F.O.W.L. found me. Gene, how long have they kept you prisoner?”

The genie awkwardly rubbed one of his arms, looking away from D’jinn as the mood shifted drastically. While he may had been a little uncomfortable before, now he wanted to focus on anything but the dog in front of him. He might end up saying something that would break his facade, and he couldn’t....

“Technically, was already a prisoner. Y’know, the whole ‘genie in the lamp’ deal.”

“What are you doing?! Stop talking before...!”

“It’s like, I dunno... I’m almost glad this happened...”

“Idiot...”

“I mean not that I helped capture all those people or anything, because I still feel real bad about all that! It’s just that, whatever he did, even after I escaped, I’m still here. This right now is the closest I’ve ever felt to being...”

A sudden feeling of a hand gently enveloping his own prevented him from saying anything else. Momentarily shocked out of his train of thought, Gene dared to look back at the stranger he had begun to admit his sadness to.

He expected to see pity, but the eyes that looked back at him held something different. They were narrowed and serious, but not like before. There was fire in that glance, and as D’jinn’s grip on his hand tightened it only seemed to burn brighter.

“You shall be free, that I promise you.”

If Gene’s eyes got any wider he thought they’d escape out of his head. Heck, there was a better chance of that happening than what the man in front of him had just said. 

“Heh, Being trapped in that pickle jar must’ve done a number on my ears. Y’know everything’s muffled in there, might not have heard ya right....” 

He tried to laugh, to call the his bluff.

The dog said nothing, nor did he change his  determined expression. He simply gave Gene’s hand a quick but firm squeeze, as if to reaffirm what he said. 

“But why....”

Just then, he felt it.

It wasn’t how he expected it to happen, but he knew.

A panicked glance down confirmed his suspicions as he saw a bright light spread from the tip of his shoes, gradually making its way up his body, a familiar emptiness growing with it. 

His time was up.

“No, please, it can’t be over yet...”

He felt D’jinn grab his other hand.

Even as he felt himself fading away, as he began to feel despair weigh him down further and any lingering hope drained from him, Gene again dared to look up at his companion.

He was greeted by the kindest smile he had ever seen.

 “Because, it is the right thing to do.”

 A single flash, and the genie was gone.

___________

D’jinn was left standing at the now-empty space in front of him, hands outstretched to cusp something that was no longer there as his smile disappeared, allowing the heaviness of the moment sink in. 

That silly little duck hadn’t been at all what he expected. The stories his grandmother told him painted a picture of genies as powerful and filled with fiery intimidation, as well as being wiser than any mortal born of flesh and bone...

“Technically, I was already a prisoner.”

  D’jinn’s frown deepened. Those words, they certainly weren’t spoken by some mighty cosmic being, but by a man, who could feel sadness and fear just like anyone else.   

D’jinn thought back to the story of his ancestor and a kind servant trapped for eternity, until she saw it in her heart to exchange that eternity for a lifetime of love and happiness. This was certainly a different situation, but wasn’t it still the right thing to do?

And those eyes.

The look of desperation in those beautiful gold-colored eyes as he vanished were now burned into his memory. It was a cry for help, and the warrior ached to answer it.

He had made a promise, and while it may had been spoken in a passionate spur of the moment, he would honor it.

Resolute, he scanned the enormous crowd, his well-trained senses focused and on high alert for any sounds or scents that would lead him to his quarry. The minutes ticked by as his stoic expression masked his growing apprehension. 

“There!”

It was faint among the throngs of people surrounding him, nearly undetectable, but his keen canine nose picked up on a familiar smell of dusty tomes mixed with the metallic scent of coins. With extreme calculation, he allowed his tracking instincts take the helm as he stealthily maneuvered through the crowd, ears perked beneath his keffiyeh for any signs of...

“Della, Launchpad! How’re the plane repairs comin’ along?”

Quiet relief washed over D’jinn when he noticed a familiarly distinct top hat poking out from the crowd near the library’s entrance. Making his way towards the fellow adventurer, he couldn’t help but notice just how tired the old man looked, uncharacteristically showing his age. 

“Scrooge, my friend.”

Caught off guard, the duck tensed so hard that he nearly lost his balance before turning to the canine in surprise.

“D’jinn? Bless me bagpipes that villainous vulture nabbed you too?” 

Scrooge shook his head as he adjusted his spectacles, expression shifting back to exhaustion, his browsed creased upwards in guilt.

“I’m sorry lad, you lot were all dragged into this mess because of me. I cannae imagine what you must ‘ave endured at the hands of those fiends.”

D’jinn’s eyes narrowed as he placed his hand on his chest, expression serious but sincere. 

“Noble Scrooge, the only true guilty ones are the villains you speak of, those who would seek to harm the innocent indiscriminately and use them for their own nefarious means.”

Scrooge’s sighed heavily at the canine’s statement.

 “Aye, like me poor darlin’ Webby.”

Like Gene.

“I have dedicated my life to righting such wrongs. I hold nothing against you my friend, I could not let such transgressions against an ally stand. That is why we are here. You have many on whom you can rely, and friends are part of the journey as well, are they not?”

Scrooge stared at D’jinn for a moment, absorbing the man’s insightful words before breaking into a gentle smile, eyes shining with gratitude.

“Thank you, I... needed to here that. I know I can rely on my family when I need ‘em, but it takes times like these to remind this stubborn old fool that ‘family’ can be many things.”

Scrooge silently laughed at himself.

“Sorry, been feeling a little more sentimental than usual.”

Nodding in understanding and knowing that he’d soon depart, Djinn decided to waste no time and reached into his robes as he lowered himself onto one knee, startling Scrooge with this sudden change in demeanor as he withdrew a blank scroll along with a quill.

“Not all has been made right, and my journey must continue.”

The look of determination that met the old duck’s gaze startled him with its ferocity.

“Scrooge McDuck, I simply need a moment to ask you some questions, and the rest will fall to me.”

Scrooge stared back for a moment, perplexed. His family would be leaving soon, and he needed to help them prepare. However, the weight of the severity in the canine’s request, along with the deep sincerity with which he’d said it, told him all he needed to know. Nodding in affirmation, Scrooge watched as D’jinn unraveled the scroll in front of them, quill raised and ready.

“I wish to know about the lost treasure of Collie Baba, and the lamp that is hidden there.”

I’m so sorry, that took MUCH longer to complete than I wanted it to, l have more projects planned and hopefully once courses are over they won’t be as bad. Also sorry for the poor writing quality, I’m kind of rusty. Still I hope that whoever took the time to read this found something entertaining about it. Thank you for your interest, until next time!

[randomingoftherandomness]

Secrets I Have Held In My Heart

A/N: Modern!AU, Soulmate!AU, Soul Mark!AU, Angst, OT3.

This is quite honestly one of the longest things I’ve ever done in one sitting. I am exhausted. My prose and tenses are probably everywhere and I am so sorry for it. Enjoy x

(Edit 20/1/2021) It has recently come to my attention that lies and slander have been spread about my character amongst persons in this OT3 community. They are malicious lies made with the intent to cast a shadow over my credibility and my good standing in this community. I only ask that you come talk to me first before you believe the horrible things that have been levelled about me.

Please take care of yourselves x

--

Booker smiles placidly when he catches Joe's eye from across the room and let's the pretenses drop the moment he ducks out into hallway, finding a spot of quiet from all the music and chatter of celebration in the living room. He really should be happy but as it is with heartbreaks, happiness is something you can only fake until it feels real.

He opens the door when the doorbell rings and kisses the cheeks of the latecomers in greeting. They awkwardly avoid his eye with shifty smiles as they shuffle past him. Booker doesn't blame them. It's an awkward fucking situation all around.

Joe's warm and happy laughter carries through the air, and Booker just feels his heart twist in his chest. The sight of his head of curls bobbing along in the joy of whatever joke one of their friends was making while his arm was slung intimately low around Nicky's waist was unbearable. Booker has enough self-respect in him to recognise it as jealousy.

He has been in love with his best friend for almost as long as he has known him. It had been ridiculously easy for them; Joe had no soul marks and neither had Booker, so it was the most natural thing to move in together after they'd both hit 33 and when Booker decided to offer his fine art restorer skills up to go freelance, they make plans to spend the rest of their lives together. It made sense and they were happy. Booker had had no intentions of ever letting Joe know how he had truly felt and that was the mistake.

It isn't that he dislikes Nicky. 

The man was beyond perfect and Booker could have never hoped to compare. From the briefest of familiarities, he knows that Nicky was a former theology student who left the seminary and is now deep in his work with a local NGO, well on his way to maybe working for the UN some day. He volunteers at a local shelter, helps at his church's soup kitchen, is handsome and funny, is a fucking Saint personified and looks great next to Joe when Booker looks like a twice drowned rat on his best day. It isn't that he hates the man. It's just that, well, Nicky isn't him.

Booker knew something had changed then. Joe had never looked at him the way he had when his and Nicky's eyes first met. And he knows Joe like he knows his own mind and there won't be any one as trusting or as kind. If he tells him he loves him, Joe would stay and he'd be Booker's, but that's not how love works and so he waits until the day they're both on the sofa watching a game and Joe turns to him to say, "Nicky's my soulmate."

Just like that. And because he could never hurt Joe, he smiles, nodding. "I figured he was. Congratulations man. That's amazing!"

There had been an indescribable look that crossed Joe's face when he said that but he hadn't lingered on it for too long. Joe's soul mark was on his left forearm set in stark, bold lines; a scimitar and a longsword threaded together with roses and thorns. Pretty cool and Booker made sure to tell him so.

That had been three months ago. Three months of waiting for the other shoe to drop, the inevitable moment when Joe says he's gonna move out and into Nicky's unit. For the second it hits his best friend that there really wasn't a place for someone like him in this equation. Two months of sitting around until he wraps up his current contract with the museum in the city and the curator takes him aside to ask him if he would be interested in working for a private collector in Turkey. Two years to work on a team of freelancers. Two years on the other side of the continent. Booker said yes with no hesitation.

"Hey, you good?"

Booker knocks his bottle of beer to Copley's. He is one of the newer persons to join their friend group but it feels like they've know each other for a very long time. His warm smile anchors Booker to the here and now and he is stupidly grateful for his presence. The man was steadfast and calm, and it made sense to Booker that he'd be the only one he told about his leaving. "Yeah. I'm ready to go whenever you are."

He'd snuck a duffle bag of his things out to Copley's house the day before and then two suitcases when Joe was over at Nicky's last night. Right before the party to celebrate Joe's birthday, he had brought his carry on out to Copley's car. His name was still on the lease and he has left instructions to help pay for his part of the rent until the end of the year if Joe would like to continue staying here. Copley will help ship the rest of his things after a month. All that's left to do is leave.

Joe had been looking forward to introducing Nicky to his family and friends, and this party was perfect for it. Booker feels bereft at the thought that this could be the last time he sees him in a long while and he cranes his neck to spy him in the center of the room, accepting a kiss from Nicky as the birthday cake is brought out from the kitchen. He holds that image of Joe, smiling from ear to ear and hopes he won't hate him too much for leaving without saying goodbye.

"Let's go."

--

His Turkish is passable at best but he gets by well enough. The rest of the restoration team were up and coming names mixed with pioneers in the field and despite the lingering heart ache, Booker finds himself pleasantly settled and happy with the work he gets to do. Everyone seems to be equally as excited as he is to be working on their employer's personal collection of paintings and sculptures, in addition to the rare books that Booker has never seen outside of museums and archives.

It's good work and it keeps him busy. It stops him from thinking about Joe too much.

Booker had found thirteen missed calls and twenty texts and ten voicemails when he lands. He hesitates only for a moment before deleting everything that wasn't from Copley or his work.

As if sensing he was being summoned by thought, his phone rings as he basks in the afternoon sunshine whilst reading a book on his off day, Copley's name flashes on his screen.

"You still alive, then?"

"Alive and kicking," Copley says over the line with a laugh. "I swear, Joe is going to eviscerate me one of these days."

Booker shakes his head, marking his page and setting his book aside. The sunlight feels good on his skin and he takes a deep lungful of air. "He won't. He's way too nice."

"You didn't see him glare when I packed the last of your things into the boxes. They're shipped, by the way. Should reach you in a week tops."

"Thanks. I owe you big time."

"Oh, you owe me more than big time. When I come over to visit, I want you pulling out all the stops for me. I want the five star experience, Mr Booker. No expense spared," Copley chuckles.

"Alright, alright," Booker laughs. "I'm sure I can rustle something up. Just let me know when, alright?"

Copley hums and they fall into a comfortable pause. "How are you? Really. Don't lie."

He tightens his grip on his phone, swallowing tightly. "I miss him every day but that's not new. I think I'll keep missing him for a while yet."

"That's normal. I'm not surprised. I think he misses you too, you know?"

"He has Nicky now. He doesn't need me. I'm... I'm just his best friend with a stupid crush that had made plans to spend the rest of my life with him. I don't fit in it any more and he deserves more than I could ever give him," He swallow tightly, licking his lips. "Copley, he'll be okay."

"But will you?"

Booker doesn't have an answer to that. When his things arrive a week and a half later, he accepts it and begins to unpack his books. He's grateful to have his familiar favourites and is eager to fill his shelves when he spots the edges of an envelope peeking out of a battered copy of Neruda. It was a letter and it was addressed to him, though the handwriting is unfamiliar to him.

Dear Sebastien, it starts and this clues him in that this person isn't someone who knows him well. No one outside of his employers and colleagues call him Sebastien.

I hope you don't mind. I'll be slipping this along with the books. I really do hope it finds you well. I don't have your number and judging by the way Joe seems to not receive a reply from you, you might have changed it. I would ask it from Copley but I do not know him well enough and you deserve someone you can speak to without any awkwardness. I write this letter because I want to know you better. It occurred to me that we have never exchanged more than a handful of words whenever we meet and it was always about Joe. I found myself curious about you even if it feels like I know you from all that Joe talks about you. He still talks about you. Even if it is in confusion as to why you left us. I don't write to judge you. I just want to be your friend. If you are amenable, please send your reply to me care of the address on the back of this paper. I hope that you do. I won't tell Joe if you don't want me to.

Sincerely, Nicky.

Booker flips the paper and sees that it's for the church he'd half-remembered being the one that Joe had mentioned off-handedly once. He rereads the words, thrown by the whole thing. He tucks it into his pocket, pushing it to the back of his mind as he focuses on unpacking his life. But the shape of it digs against his skin and he cannot help unfolding it every few minutes to read it all over again.

Each word was carefully pressed and written with intent. He finds his thumb brushing over the looping Joe, but it is the careful He still talks about you that decides things for him.

Scratching his chest absently, he tears out an empty page from his notebook as writes, If we're going to be friends, you'd better call me Booker.

--

The seasons change and his correspondence with Nicky grows from a weekly letter to every few days, to Booker posting a letter only to receive a reply for the one he sent two days ago when he arrives back in his flat. Booker takes to sending a box of baklava over an overnight service and Nicky sends him a handwritten recipe for his Nonna's tomato soup when Booker off-handedly mentions a sniffle.

Eventually it gets easier to talk about Joe and Booker tells Nicky on what he likes and what he doesn't, how to best care for him; he's allergic to a certain brand of detergent, he always forgets his scarf in the depths of winter so always stuff one in his coat pocket, he loves it when you caress his hair, he doesn't support any team in football but he loves watching a game and he always chooses the team that starts on the right side of the pitch, ask his mother for her recipe for lamb stew and make that for him when he's having a busy week.

Nicky never seems to be bothered by him telling him all these things and in turn, Booker learns that Nicky cannot function before his first cup of coffee, that he misses the quiet of his life in the seminary but he is glad he can do more as he is, that he has a few kids that he works with that he is hoping will get into gifted programmes that can help them excel in academia, that if he hadn't done the almost priest route, he would have been a doctor or a medic.

It was ridiculously effortless to be friends with Nicky and he finds himself actually looking forward to his letters and random bits and bobs in the mail. Sometimes Nicky sends Booker Joe’s sketches and he keeps them up on his bedside, keeping them in sight as he falls asleep at night. Other times there’s a picture or two, taken by Nicky, of Joe. Joe on the corner of the sofa, curled up and dozing, Joe eyes crinkling as he laughs at something. Joe with those ridiculous sunglasses they bought on a whim over a very wet Welsh afternoon.

As the first chill of the season sets in, Booker asks about Joe.

He's fine. Missing you. We're heading to his family's beach house. He said you both used to go together?

Booker finds that he can smile a little easier when the memories come or when it is brought up that Joe misses him. It still tastes a little bittersweet but he can be happy about how he had the chance to experience these things with Joe. Even if he hadn't been the one to keep having them. 

Yes. He writes, But you both can do this together now. Make sure you pack extra blankets for yourself. I'm sure you know that he hogs them.

Nicky replies with a box of Marks and Spencer Welsh Cakes which Booker thanks with an assortment of Turkish Delights. 

Their correspondence slows as the weather cools further. Copley, when he tells him about what’s happening over Skype, merely asks him if it i a good idea to be even putting himself in the same sphere as Joe and Nicky when he had moved across the continent just to get away from the heartbreak. 

“I don’t see how it couldn’t be,” Booker says over the sizzling of the butter as he makes the cheese toasties that Joe used to love for breakfasts. He scratches at his chest, eyes watching the way the cheese oozes off its side.

“Mate, I don’t think you’re far removed enough to actually know how catastrophic this could be.”

“O ye, of little faith,” Booker huffs, flipping the toastie. “At some point I would like to be able to exist in the same city as him without melting into a puddle of heartbreak. If being friends with his soulmate helps get me there, I’m all for it.”

“You are a masochist, Mr Booker.”

Booker laughs even as he burns his finger on the pan.

He works harder than ever, learning and improving his own techniques under the tutelage of his colleagues and can appreciate the opportunity. There's already talks of him going to New York after the New Year's to accompany some of the artifacts that are being lent out for display. Booker is climbing the stairs up to his building, head down, free hand rubbing at his chest and reading through the latest methods of restoration on his phone when he bumps into a person rushing down. 

“Oh, sorry--”

“Booker.”

Joe’s eyes are big and wide when their gazes meet. Booker blinks, breathes in deep before looking behind him to see Nicky watching them from his landing, exhaling shakily as he whispers, deep and with feeling, “What the fuck are you guys doing here?”

--

Nicky nurses his cup of tea from his lean against the window and deftly avoids the inquiring glare Booker keeps sending his way from the safety of the kitchen. Joe, on the other hand, is carefully prowling the space of his studio flat he has made home, obviously cataloguing the way his books sit on the shelf and the way he has kept the space marginally clean-ish, how there are pictures and sketches tacked to the wall behind the dining table, the clear signs of a life he has built here.

“Let me get this straight, you picked up Nicky’s mail from the church, saw my handwriting, and decided to come all the way to Turkey. Just to see me,” Booker says, gesturing at their backpacks leaning against his door. “Again, let me ask, why?”

“Why?” Joe laughs, throat clicking when the sound comes out rough and raw. “You ask me why I would fly out to Turkey in the middle of the holiday season just to see my best friend who left me without telling me he got a job in Turkey and was going to leave without even so much as a goodbye, and you are asking me why I would come all the way out here just to chase you down? Are you perhaps short of a marble!”

“And what was I supposed to do! Linger around you when I was dying every single time I looked at you and knew I wasn’t your soulmate? We were going to spend our lives together, Joe! I loved you!”

Booker slaps his hand over his mouth and turns away, focusing on his breathing. “You love me?” Joe says softly in the stillness of the flat.

“I did. I do and I’m sorry,” He sighs, feeling his chest shake with his trembling breath. He presses the heel of his hand to his sternum. “I do. And it’s okay, Joe. I know you don’t love me in that way. It’s okay. I just need some time away to figure out how to love you like you need me to.”

“And what do you know about what I need from you?”

Booker feels Joe come close and allows himself to be turned around to be face to face with him. “Do you know I love you too?”

“Yeah,” He chuckles wetly, rubbing his nose with the back a hand. “I’m your best friend.”

Nicky choose this moment to speak. “Booker, look at him and listen. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you in our letters. “

There’s an insistence in Nicky’s gaze that galvanises Booker to turn to Joe and meet his eyes head on. “I love you, Book. I always did. I still do. Even after the bullshit you’ve put me through.”

“But Nicky--” “Nicky’s my soulmate and I love him too.” Joe smiles, eyes gone liquor soft when Nicky returns his fond look. “But I’ve loved you for the longest time, Book. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The itch on his chest starts to burn.

“And you’re alright with this?” Booker breathlessly asks Nicky, taking a step back. “This- This whole Love, Actually thing is a situation you’re okay with?”

“Yes,” Nicky says, standing to cross the distance between them. Joe reaches for him then, tenderly touching him by the elbow while Nicky slides a hand to his cheeks and Booker feels immediately overwhelmed. He parts his mouth to speak when he doubles over dropping to his knees when the fire spreading over the skin on his chest sends him to his knees gasping for air. 

Joe keeps a hold on him while Nicky looks him over with clear worry. “Fuck!” Booker groans, trying to arch away. Clawing at his shirt, he tears at it until the buttons plink on the floor as they fall. For a moment, he does not register the dark lines that spread over his sternum. Running shaking fingers over his raw skin, Booker barely holds back the awed gasp at the scimitar and longsword twined together with thorns and roses. 

“Well,” Nicky laughs softly, cupping him by the side of the head, sweeping him into a gentle kiss. In that second that their lips touch, Booker feels his heartbeat skip a notch. “I guess this answers things, doesn’t it?”

-- Epilogue --

“That’s the last of the boxes.”

Joe kicks the door shut behind him, dropping the bags in his hands to the floor, ignoring the evil eye sent his way by Nicky who had warned them against scuffing up the hardwood floors. Booker throws himself onto the sofa with a sigh and Joe, grinning like a maniac, does a running start before launching himself onto Booker. 

“Oof!” And then after a beat and a wiggle. “Joe, you’re suffocating me and I can feel your dick against my ass.”

They’ve finally moved into their first home together. It had taken a bit more effort after Turkey to keep their fledgling relationship going but all’s well, ends well and Booker is back with them after finishing up his contract with glowing recommendations and growing his contact list. Joe was ridiculously proud and he knows Nicky feels the same too. 

They’ll need to work hard over the next two days to spruce the place up in time for their housewarming. Their friends and families will be here and Joe cannot wait to show off his loves. Wrapping his arms around Nicky and pulling him along back to the sofa where Booker is, he basks in the happy warmth of feeling whole with his heart in one piece.

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Most Beloved Demon

Summary: It all started with a simple chat. A mere idle thought you had about one of the human customs in matchmaking that you shared in with the rest of the brothers because you were once again scheming to have another date with Mammon. And then you had to make another group chat without him because God, Jesus, and Mary showed you the way and it was a birthday party extravaganza for Mammon.

Tags: Galaxy Brained Reader, Oblivious Mammon, Idiots in Love, Happy Birthday Mammon, Sweets, Reader is Horny for Mammon, Kissing as a distraction

Rating: Rated E for explicit cock sucking and fucking at a dark alleyway

A/N: A late birthday fic for Mammon because I’ve just finished prelims for law school and boy am I worried

--

It had started, like with all things that shook the House of Lamentation, at a fine peaceful day. You were lounging in your room, feeling slightly neglected that Mammon wasn’t cuddling with you which meant that you couldn’t accidentally brush against his cock while cuddling or send him a signal that you were totally down to be fucked by him anytime anywhere. You’ve exhausted all means of entertainment, you were done doing your Diavolo-sanctioned prank on Lucifer, exhausted  Asmo’s patience on your Mammon-less day, taunted Belphie on his apparent failure to keep you dead, entertained yourself by treating Beel as a food disposal unit and conducting “science experiments”, teaching Satan about human curses, and of course harassed Levi’s in-game character and made him drop 20 levels because he talked shit about your in-game wifey who was Mammon. Not that he knew.

Which meant that you were so bored, and there was no Mammon who could distract you, or you could seduce to a very fun and sexy game of strip billiards. Which ultimately meant you’d either have to trek to the Castle and bother Diavolo to play with you or go over at the Purgatory Hall and rope Solomon into revealing if Merlin is real. In the middle of your contemplation, your phone vibrated and a quick glance at it showed Barbatos’ message which read:

It would be more fruitful if you remained where you are.

You blinked and obediently shelved your plan of bothering Solomon and instead sent a message to the group chat:

🐑 : You know, in the human world in one culture birth dates are a great way of measuring compatibility between two people

You sat back and waited for everyone’s reply. Then the messages came flooding in and you smirked in satisfaction as you saw Mammon take the bait you’ve dangled, you idly watched them bicker, pouring gasoline whenever or dousing it water. Your laptop was ready to calculate and the moment Asmo shared his birthday you brought out the results and gleefully watched the mayhem about to ensue.

🐑 : Amazing! Asmo we have an 88% Compatibility~!

Sure enough, Asmo would never miss out a chance to mess with everyone else and so the two of you were able to successfully get everyone to do the compatibility test with you. The moment Mammon gave you his birthday you had foolishly remained oblivious to the date. Mind still focusing on the compatibility rate.

🐑 : Mammon~ We’ve got the highest compatibility rate~! 91%! 

🐑 : By the way the method I used is the one for calculating marriage compatibility.

And then you glanced back to the calculator and registered the date he had given. 

“September 10?” You mumbled as you glanced at the calendar and then back to Mammon’s apparent birthday.

Your eyes widened in realization just as the door to your room slammed open and your very cute and most beloved demon came in with a wild blush on his face. You blinked at his winter outfit and then decided that Devildom was much to cold for your delicate human body. Mammon, who was attuned to the ebb and flow of your libido made quick work of his and your clothes and the two of you wrestled under the sheets.

After 10 rounds of you alternating between begging Mammon to cum inside you and asking to suck his dick, you were giving him sweet and lazy kisses on his neck, giving him hickeys all the while engaging in your shared favorite hobby cock warming. Mammon had been flustered, at the start, with how into his kinks you were up until he realized that you were really just into him and made him melt.

Now he was used and utterly spoiled with your clingy disposition after sex. He would give you sweet kisses or alternate with teasing you a little bit and letting you decide if you wanted to go for another round. Right now though, his mind was preoccupied with the words that you had said. Mammon might have just been dating you for less than a year but even so he already knew you like the back of his hand.

So he definitely knew that you had some sort of ulterior motive for bringing that part with the marriage. And Mammon wasn’t sure if he wanted you to be like that to him. He knew himself and he knew that if you were really willing to enter into marriage with him...that there was no way he’d let you get away and neither would you let him. Mammon had already seen the depths of your love for him, had come to accept that you would always hold him above all.

And the best and worst of it was that he was the same.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him voice soft and hoarse.

Mammon smirked as he remembered how you looked utterly bliss out after having your mouth fucked. He shifts and you moan as you end up beneath him. You feel his cum drip from your pussy and looked at him in anticipation.

“Ya really are a slut for me” Mammon teased you, thrusting into you a little bit.

“It’s because I love you...” You encircled your arms on his neck and tug him down for a sweet kiss. You smile as Mammon begins another round of sex, he fucks you languidly, enjoying this moment where the two of you simple enjoyed existing. Whispering sweet words of love and the knowledge that both of you had found each other.

When all is said and done, you spooned him, holding him tight and close to your chest and he holds you equally tight and tells you,

“...I want to spend my birthday with you...”

“As you wish” You kissed him good night.

-

In extreme contrast with your passionate and gentle night of slumber with Mammon was the birthday plan meeting you were currently holding secretly. You had, in very character of you, used one of the favors Barbatos owed you to have him send Mammon on an errand that would last long enough for all of you to plan his birthday.

Lucifer had shot down all your suggestions of gifting Mammon a Casino, a Mansion and Villa in the human realm, buying him a gold mine, and gifting him a civil registry that listed him as your husband in devildom and the human realm.

Satan had, in a rare moment of cooperation with Lucifer, also shot down all your party suggestions of champagne towers, booking the entire Ristorante Six, Booking the entire Fall, and giving Mammon a surprise wedding.

All of you had eventually decided to just give Mammon a sentimental and heartfelt gift of experience. With a strict order from Lucifer to not let you pick a stationary set that was used for weddings.

Which meant that you had made plans with them to buy it two days later, when you knew that Mammon had a photo shoot and thus you had no date with him scheduled that day. And because your Father-in-Law was still holding a grudge over that time you beat him up at the Mcdonald’s back parking lot, Mammon’s shoot got rescheduled and you ended up bumping to him just when you, Asmo, and Satan had bought the supplies.

“...Why?” He asked looking hurt and dejected that you had turned him down to spend time with Asmo and Satan.

“It’s now what you think!” You hurriedly replied.

“Hey, don’t sound like a husband that just got caught” Satan frowned as he stealthily hid the paper bag that held the stationary set and golden wax seal the three of you had bought.

“Satan’s right you know?” Asmo chimed, “The three of us were just window shopping.”

Asmo signaled you to distract Mammon and you nodded. So in a moment of sheer brilliance you led Mammon to a darkened and secluded alleyway. Pushed him in the wall and kissed him deeply before he could protest. All of his anger and hurt melted away as you fervently kissed him, one of your hand palming on his cock as you twined your tongue with his. 

You stop and let Mammon see the sloppy evidence of the make out session you had just initiated. Far more filthy and intense than your accidentally on purpose mistake of fumbling the seduction spell during the exam.

“I’m not going to forgive you so easily!”

You said nothing to that and instead dropped to your knees as your finger traced the seam of his zipper. Mammon cursed and muttered an invisibility and warding spell. You unzipped his pants with your teeth, kissing his hardened cock through the fabric of his brief. You glanced at him and smiled at him devilishly before you took his cock into your mouth and began giving him the best blow job of his entire demonic and angelic life combined.

You, who was always horny on main for your demon boyfriend, was giving it your all in sucking his dick putting into good use all the techniques your succubi and incubi friends had given you. Your alternated between deep throating yourself with his thick and long cock and giving him a hand job as your tongue licked his balls and then his cock. You enjoyed the thick veins on Mammon’s dick along with the undeniable blunt ridges that you had grown familiar with. 

“Fuck!” Mammon cursed as he decided he had enough of your teasing and fucked your mouth, dirty talk falling easily out of his mouth as he praised you, “You’re always such a slut for my dick aren’t ya? look at you turning your mouth into a pussy for me to use any time I want.”

You tried to convey your pleasure with your eyes, agreeing with everything Mammon said and that had only served to increase his pleasure. He took great joy at seeing you on your knees and begging him with your eyes as you lost your self to heat and lust. Hands gripping on Mammon’s clothes, your mouth and his cock making lewd noises as your saliva dripped on the corners of your mouth.

Mammon took out his cock from your mouth and you whined at the lost, his hand still gripping your hair and you were looking at him with a betrayed look while his free hand was pumping his dick.

“Mammon~”

“You really want me to make you swallow or do you want me to fuck you here in this alley for as long as I want?”

You blinked and looked at him with a dazed look, Mammon’s smirk growing wide as he let your hair go and watched you unzip your mini shorts, letting it drop to the ground and presenting your enticing hole to Mammon.

“What a good slut” Mammon praised you as he used his wet dick and spit as lube before teasing your opening. 

“Ma-nnn..darling! I want your dick in me already!” You cried softly as Mammon teased you while you could only look longingly at his erect dick and let your mouth water.

“Then say the magic words” He teased you as he bit you on your neck.

“Please breed this good and obedient slut with your thick and lovely seed!” You begged him in between moans and shudders of pleasure that went through your body. Mammon stuttered for a moment before he regained his wits and did as you asked.

His cock entered you easily, “Your hole really was meant to take my cock” he let you get used to the feeling before he began moving slowly, watching the soft jiggling of your chest with each thrust he made. His hands were holding both of your wrists you could only moan as Mammon ruthlessly grazed your spot with his hard dick.

“If anyone could see you right now they’d think you were getting paid for this,” Mammon grinned darkly, “But then again, you were only ever a slut for me aren’t you? Opening your legs for me anytime I ask, easily taking my cock into your mouth.”

“I-it’s becau-! I love you!” You panted as you felt Mammon hit your spot.

Mammon knew you loved him but it really was different hearing how you were only like this because you loved him. He smiled at you and sweetly kissed you on your mouth as he carried you in his arms. 

“Ma--” You cut off by his dick thrusting in you deeper. You were vaguely aware that your shorts had already slipped off your leg and your underwear was already ruined.

“I love you too” Mammon said as he vigorously fucked your hole and you could only hold on tightly on his shoulders as you stopped bothering to lower your voice. 

The sounds of wet flesh slapping, along with your lustful moans filled the darkened alley. You weren’t aware of the passage of time, nor did you care about the fact that there were often footsteps that would stop at the mouth of the alley. All you cared about was the feeling of Mammon fucking you and the undeniable smell of his come covering your body.

All your clothes had ended up on the ground, you were naked while Mammon still had his clothes on, not that you mind since there was something erotic about the picture it presented to any voyeur that was brave enough to risk Mammon’s ire. Your legs had grown weak after the 15th round and you were only dazedly looking at air as Mammon fucked you from behind, his previous comes dripping down your hole and between your legs. Some had formed a puddle directly on the ground beneath your hole.

Your neck and shoulders were filled with love bites, and most of your skin was sticky with dried cum. You felt Mammon slow down on his thrust and then the familiar wet heat of his cum filled your inside.

You looked at him in question, watching him observe his masterful lewd work that was you.

“Already?” You asked him slightly frowning.

Mammon only looked at you helplessly fond and doting before he began to dress you up, fingers teasing your overstimulated nerves but keeping it at that, “We still need to go home in time for the curfew.”

You pouted but nonetheless let him do as he pleased, though you did squirm a little bit as he zip up your shorts and teasing you once more by rubbing his hand on your crotch through the fabric.

Soaking the crotch are with the mixture of his and your cum. You whined at him, “Can’t we continue at a love hotel?”

Mammon said nothing beyond a teasing smile as he lad you out of the alley, you were limping slightly as you leaned completely on his side and steadfastly ignored the looks the demons were giving you nor did you pay any mind on the undeniable dribble of cum that was between your legs.

What mattered was that Mammon had forgotten about the events earlier and you were getting railed again once both of you got home.

--

The next morning you woke up on Mammon’s arms and experienced the feeling of being a pampered wife who got railed so good. Mammon had sat you on his lap and fed you as you weakly laid on his chest and ignored the judgmental looks Lucifer was giving you. Chances were, he had already found out about the semi-public sex you and Mammon did. 

But you were well-fed and satiated so you put it on the back of your mind as you planned to get things done for Mammon’s surprise. So the time you spent away from Mammon, physically since you were sending him sexy pics and basically having sext with him, was allotted for writing the letters for him. Special ones that would last for years even when you would no longer be alive.

You carefully wrote each letter and made sure that in each and everyone of it had all your overflowing love for him. You wrote him a letter for every conceivable event that you could thought of, until it went from emotions he would feel into situations he would get in until it became for his everyday life.

With each letter you wrote, you couldn’t help but be envious of the people he’d get to meet after you were gone. The selfish part of you that wanted to remain inside his heart for as long as he lived. You could only sigh at your helplessness, there was no guarantee that you would live forever and that you could be with him till he died.

You didn’t know if he would remember you clearly or slowly fade away from his memories. So you decided to give him this indelible words that carried your most fervent wish of being able to stay by his side for eternity.

You wrote and wrote, pouring all of the words that you could never say and to cowardly to speak aloud and instead let it hang on the air. In between the moments when Mammon would catch your eye and you’d look at him and see his love that overflows, in the brief moments of silence where you would hold onto him tightly afraid of him leaving you, in those dark days that you almost lost him and still foolishly unaware that you had come to love him.

The words you kept inside you flowed from your heart and mind and into the tips of your fingers, as you wrote page after page of love letters for Mammon. You let the papers dry and lovingly folded it into the golden envelopes and sealed it with a red wax seal that held your initials.

You placed it inside your jewelry box and hid it. 

The door to your room opened and you turned around, seeing Mammon you couldn’t help but smile widely as you called for his name.

You rushed to hug him and Mammon peppered your face with kisses. You let yourself soak up the warmth of his love and decided to no longer think of the distant future that you feared the most.

--

Mammon had always known that you loved him the most in the entire world. It was hard not to, when you were always out rightly favoring him, always treating him so much better than the others and you would always tell it to him. There was no room for doubt when it came to your love. 

And Mammon loved you as well, your flaws and everything because it was what made you human. You weren’t a saint or a holy mother, he didn’t care about your cruel streak that only ever existed in defense of him and his brothers nor did he mind the days you would stick to him relentlessly as if you were afraid he would be gone. He didn’t mind your moments of jealousy, the instances when you’d cut someone with your words.

You had left a mark on his heart that would never fade away, you had made him yours in the way no one would be able to do so. He smiled at the pieces of memory you had left him, proof of your existence in a world that changed much too fast and much too slow for someone like him.

Your bones had withered and turned into dust, you were no longer by his side, all three realms was co-existing peacefully, you lasted long enough to see Diavolo’s dreams to bear fruit, you stayed long enough to hold your great grand children in your arms but even so it still wasn’t enough for him. His greedy heart that was only ever content with you in his arms. But even so Mammon could still remember your voice, the inflections on the words you spoke, the way your eyes glittered with happiness upon seeing his face.

He looked at the wrinkled and yellowed letter you had left him. The last among the letters you wrote for him since the first birthday you had celebrated with him. -

Dear Mammon,

If you’re reading this letter then that would mean I’m no longer by your side. Somehow even with the centuries I’ve spent with you, the thought that I am no longer by your side still makes me cry. You’ve influenced me too much that I became greedy of you. 

Have you eaten yet? Are you sleeping well? Are you taking care of yourself?

Don’t mope around anymore, by time you reached this letter centuries would have passed since I died. I know I said I can’t accept you having someone else after me and I was happy that you went along with my selfish wish but even so...I don’t want you to miss out on another great love. I’m already happy with all the years you’ve given me even if it was just a fraction of what you lived and you will live.

I’m really scared that you’d forget me easily and I still want to live longer and be by your side I love you so much that I’m afraid what would happen to you once I’m gone. Mammon, my most beloved demon, I’m sorry I had to leave you first. But even so I’m selfishly happy that I would never know what a world without you would be. I’m weak and cowardly even so you loved this part of me that desperately held onto you, you loved me even if you knew that between the two of us I’ve forgotten how to live without you.

I knew you like the back of my hand, so familiar and foreign at the same time. In all the years I’ve spent writing you letters filled with words that I could never say aloud, I’ve come to accept that I only knew of love because of you. It’s a scary thought, knowing that if I hadn’t meet you...I wouldn’t have given love a chance. I would have live my years not knowing the warmth of your embrace or peace that your presence brought to me. 

Thank you for giving me a family that I love and loves me in return, I was so happy when I bore you our third child. Do you remember? I cried that time because he looked so much liked you, he had your eyes and your nose, and then he had your laugh and smile. Our eldest daughter was so happy then, finally having a human passing brother. Number 2 was so pouty that day but even so I was happy with our little family.

There’s a lot of things I want to write to you in this final letter but my hands are already shaking. Our Little Ds of Greed are scampering around right now while I’m writing this. I can’t help but laugh a little bit, my heart feels a bit sour. You’re sleeping soundly right now by my side and I love you so much, that even if my lungs hurt and my body aches so much I want to spend the last moments of my life telling you how much I love you.

I love your smile. I love your laugh. I love the way you’d get into trouble and come to me for help. I love the days you’d let me chase away your nightmares. I love how you patiently waited for me to return to your side. I love how you always tell me you love in the little ways. I love how you never let me wake up in a cold empty bed. I love you. I love you from the moment you ran towards me. I love you until now.

I love you in this life, and if there is a next life for me, I’ll love you there as well. I love you in every world there is that I exist with you. I love you in all infinite possibilities of this universe and the next.

I love you, my Mammon. And I will begone but even if I am no longer by your side I would still love you. I would love you even if my mind and heart forgets because whatever it was that our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same.

So live well and fall in love with the world again, my cherished and inevitable downfall.

Yours in Eden.

[that-scouse-wizard]

Tigress and Hound, a Friendship in Many Parts. (Part 1)

[A/N: Hi everyone, this is just going to be a little series of loosely connected one-shots mostly based on ideas I and @judediangelo75 have discussed about our characters. Essentially, a catalogue of David and Judith’s friendship, from humble and slightly awkward beginnings to the epic duo that they are. Hope you all enjoy!

Summary: The introduction between the duo who will become known as the Tigress and the Hound. 

Word count: 2151

MC friends: Judith Harris (@judediangelo75) 

-----------------

1st of September, 1985 (second year)

David

Thick steam hung in the air, courtesy of the Hogwarts Express as David made the familiar first steps onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Two other pairs of footsteps following close behind him.

“Wow!” Came the fascinated tone of Amelia, grey eyes on a swivel. Marvelling at the bright red train, the throngs of witches and wizards with their parents, and even at how they entered into this new place for the muggleborn witch, “We just went through a wall, we just went through a wall!” The young witch was practically bouncing with excitement

“This brings back memories...” David’s father, Matthew sighed nostalgically, giving a chuckle at Amelia’s attitude.

A smile tugged at the corner of David’s lips fondly, "And next year, you'll be coming with me to Hogwarts, Amy." He said as he pushed his luggage cart through the dense crowd that thankfully was parting in the wake of his trolley. Though Goliath didn’t seem to appreciate the rattling, the owl giving an annoyed chirp. One that David didn't pay any mind to, his owl was always in a bad mood when confined to a cage.

After handing his luggage over to be loaded onto the train, he turned to his father and soon-to-be step-sister, "I'll see you guys at Christmas then."

"Right, until then." Matthew said, sticking his hand out, “Best of luck to you, do well in school and please stay out of trouble.” David looked down at it, deciding he would cut his dad some slack. He ignored the outstretched limb, going in for a hug. 

“I’ll try dad.” David said as he pulled away from his now-surprised father, giving Amelia one too, one that the young witch happily returned.  He stepped onto the train, giving one last wave to them, now all he needed to do was find a compartment. 

“Oh, David, over here!” Came a familiar voice, the source of it being a beaming Penny Haywood, “We have a seat going spare, would you like to join us?” 

“Sure, cheers Pen.” David grinned, counting himself lucky he’d found a seat so soon, and with good company to boot. He soon found out the identity of the other two people who were occupying the area he would be sharing with Penny.

One was Rowan, who’s face lit up at the sight of her best friend, in letters they had exchanged she had detailed her own research into the Cursed Vaults. David would gladly listen if it brought him closer to finding Jacob. 

The second person was someone both familiar yet not. Dark skin, pale gold eyes, there was no mistaking who it was as David froze in place. Judith Harris, Jamal Harris’s little sister, a boy who had been a friend of Jacob’s. A person who had also gone missing alongside him. 

What exactly were they supposed to say to each other? ‘Hi, our brothers went missing together, let’s be friends!’ As if to make things even more uncomfortable, Penny took a seat, leaving the only one for David to occupy situated directly opposite Judith. 

 Just great...

Judith glanced at him as he sat down next to Penny, a mixture of shy and wary. The train soon pulled away from the station, “Oh, you two haven’t met before, have you? David, this is Judith Harris. Judith, meet David Willows.”

“Hi...” She said shyly, her voice so soft David almost didn’t hear.

“Likewise.” He said coolly in response, trying not to sound like he really didn’t want to be forced into an interaction. It didn’t help that Penny and Rowan had now struck up a conversation about potions, leaving David and Judith to avert their gazes from each other. David was seriously regretting his choice to not bring a textbook or something to distract himself with. At least then he’d have an excuse not to make eye contact.

“What were you guys up to over the summer?” He asked, not completely rude on his part but at least the question wasn’t just directed at Judith. David could have sworn Rowan sent a quick glance Penny’s way, as if she knew something he didn’t before his question was answered.

“I worked on some potions as some extra homework for professor Snape.” David smirked at Penny’s answer, should have expected that, her love of potions was as uncommon as her admiration for their normally dour professor.

“Well you already know what I’ve been up to.” Rowan stated excitedly, “I’ve been taking a closer look into Hogwarts’s history, aside from Sir Cadogan and a couple of other mentions in portraits of the castle, there’s nothing much about knights. Especially not about-” Rowan was quickly cut off when Penny slapped a hand over her mouth. 

“Especially not about...?” Judith asked curiously. David internally swore, the last thing he needed was more people involved in the Cursed Vaults business... even if she did have a personal stake in it herself.

“The weapons that they used!” Penny answered, taking back her hand as Rowan gave the blonde a brief glare, “David is interested in muggle weaponry, he knows about maintaining and how to use a shotgun.” She elaborated

“That’s right and Judith can use Dao swords.” Rowan said, trying to shore up the ploy, “Come to think of it, David knows how to fight hand-to-hand as well, and so does Judith.”

“Really?” David cocked an eyebrow at that, a clear interest in his tone encountering another magic user with any knowledge of non-magical self-defence was definitely rare in wizarding world.

“I do Tae Kwon Do.” Judith confirmed, though she did give a slightly pointed look to the other two for giving away that fact about her.

“Muay Thai.” David clarified succinctly.  

“What’s the difference?” Rowan asked, confused. That was when David and Judith were united, giving their mutual friend an incredulous look, then turning back to each other. A silent understanding passing between the two, Rowan Khanna not knowing about the differences in their respective fighting styles simply would not do.

“Ro, how would you like to learn something new?” David’s fellow Hufflepuff looked surprised, eyes widening at his question. A grin slowly spread across her face, all too eager to be educated.

“That has to be the best thing you’ve ever said to me, yes please.”

-----

Judith

It had taken a while for the two of them to explain the differences and similarities between their respective styles but Rowan had hung on their every word. Excitedly writing down notes and asking various follow-up questions. Even after it had ended, their fellow Hufflepuff still eagerly went over her bullet points.

David had even seemed a bit interested in hearing about Tae Kwon Do and she couldn’t deny, Muay Thai certainly seemed effective as a fighting style. Then... despite something they could have potentially bonded over, David had opted to sleep the rest of the journey off. 

Judith was somewhat glad for the relief from the awkwardness on though she couldn’t deny she was somewhat miffed at his rudeness. Although, with him softly snoring as his head was lolled back, and Penny having fallen asleep against him, now would be the best time to ask Rowan anything she needed to without the threat of interruption.

“Rowan, what were you going to say before?” She asked. Immediately, her friend stiffened, turning to face her like a deer caught in headlights.

“Nothing.” She answered quickly.

“It didn’t sound like nothing.” Judith retorted quietly, her tone making it clear she wasn’t in the mood for games.

Rowan paused, glancing at the two friends opposite her while briefly mulling it over, and answering nervously, “Alright, fine. We’re looking into the Cursed Vaults. David didn’t want anyone else involved so I didn’t tell you...” She trailed off, noticing her friend’s fists had curled up.

Judith took a deep breath to calm herself. Her first year had been uneventful aside from bullying that came from being Jamal’s relative. She hadn’t uncovered anything about the vaults and now she knew why. David Willows had been keeping secrets. 

“Judith, I’m sorry-” Rowan began but was swiftly cut off.

“I’m not mad at you, Rowan.” Judith said reassuringly, “Any issues I’ve got is between me and David.” Rowan seemed to accept that answer, distracting herself with looking out the window as the train weaved through the countryside. The sky being lit up orange indicated it wouldn’t be long before they reached Hogwarts.

Judith focused on David. On one hand she could understand him not bringing her into the fold in searching for his brother. On the other, if Jacob Hall was found, then maybe Jamal wouldn’t be far behind. If there was a chance of getting her own brother back, she would gladly take it. She’d need to get him alone, the question was how.

That was something she would need to ponder...

------

David stirred from his sleep, being awoken by the high-pitched screech of the train’s brakes as it pulled into Hogsmeade station. Blinking sleepily, he could have sworn he saw Judith staring at him, though her head was turned away from him by the time he next looked so he couldn’t be too sure.

There was no rush for any of them, their path being blocked by throngs of students eager to be off the train. From bright-eyed first years to seventh years who looked quite nostalgic at the thought of this being one of their last journeys on Hogwart’s Express.

Eventually, the crowd cleared, leaving their group straggling behind as they tried to follow the flow of the crowd. Hagrid’s tell-tale call for the first years sounded out as they stepped into the chilly air of the September night. In contrast to the first years who would make their voyage across the Black Lake, the older Hogwarts students would be taking carriages up to the castle grounds.

They made their way through the lit, paved streets of Hogsmeade, Rowan excitedly pointing out some of the wizarding village’s landmarks such as the Three Broomsticks. One of the carriages passed by, bound to pick up students that were further ahead. David wondered if they were enchanted, seeing as there was nothing pulling them.

Penny broke into a light jog as they approached the lane the carriages would initially travel down, waving for one of them to hold on. There was just one issue, the carriage in question already had four students, there were just two seats left for any additional passengers. 

“Sorry everyone.” Penny said, scratching the back of her head sheepishly.

“David and I can stay behind.” Judith offered, taking a hold of his arm. David gave her a puzzled look, prompting to lean in and whisper in his ear, “There’s something you and I need to talk about.”

He understood, keeping her out of the loop had finally caught up with him, “Pen, Ro, go ahead.” David spoke up. Reluctantly, Penny and Rowan climbed aboard the carriage. 

David turned to Judith as the transport pulled away, not speaking up until the clicking of the wheels had disappeared. Leaving the two of them alone on the paved lane, “What do you want?” He asked shortly.

“Answers,” Judith shot back, “I know you’ve been looking into the Cursed Vaults, I want in on it.”

“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about.” He answered curtly, hoping that would throw her off.

“Rowan told me.” She clarified.

“Listen to me,” David began after a brief pause to gather his thoughts, “The vaults are my business, no one else’s. If I had my way, no one but I would’ve gotten involved in them.”

“And now you have at least Rowan helping out, so what difference does one more person make?” Judith asked rhetorically.

“Because my brother-” David began before Judith cut him off.

“Our brothers, like it or not David, you’re not the only one with a personal stake in this. Please, I want to find my brother just as much as you want to find yours, it makes no sense for us not to work together.” She stated, “Look, Rowan and Penny like you, so I want to trust you, all you need to do is trust me.” She finished, sticking her hand out.

Having more people to help out could be beneficial but still David was unsure...

“Please.” Judith sniffled, sounding somewhat desperate.

David was take aback by that, feeling a pang of sympathy for his fellow Hufflepuff, this really was important to Judith. He sighed in resignation before clasping Judith’s hand with his own.

“Fine, I don’t know how this is goin’ to go between you and me but if you’ve got my back, I’ve got yours.”

Judith’s face lit up in gratitude at his answer, nearly knocking him off his feet as she slammed into him with a brief hug, 

“Thank you.”

David chuckled at that, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all...  

[falseroar]

Dog Days Part 23: Almost Too Easy

((Y/N catches up with Wilford before they have a meeting with the studio’s manager.

This and the next part are both going to be on the longer side. I also feel like I should give a head’s up that there is some gaslighting happening the later conversation. Just one character being all around not okay, but that’s pretty normal for him.

And here are links to yesterday’s part and to the series masterlist if you need them.))

You waited until the studio doors closed behind the others, and then a little longer to give yourself time to breathe, to prepare yourself for what might happen next. And still, you had no idea what to say to the man who was still whistling to himself, as though waiting to be invited back into your earlier conversation.

“Colonel,” you said, and the whistling stopped.

Wilford looked over at you and beamed. “Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in years! I’ve gone through so many over the years, you know, can hardly keep track of them all…What did you say your name was, again?”

“What?” you stared at him, sure that he must be joking. But as the silence went on too long, you asked, “You don’t…you don’t remember me?”

Wilford approached and leaned on the back of the chair he had been sitting in a minute ago as he studied you. “Of course! You told me your name earlier, it was…Dave, right?”

“Dave?” you repeated.

“Dave!” Wilford plopped down in the chair and leaned toward you again, his eyes bright. “How have you been? How’s the wife and kids? See, couldn’t be sure, you don’t look like a Dave, but something about your face just reminded me of that name, you know?”

“Colonel, I’m not Dave,” you said. “You told me…you told me how Dave died, remember? Do you remember, we were sitting outside, and you—you showed me your arm?”

Wilford glanced down at his arm and rolled back his shirt sleeve to reveal the bite mark, still as livid as the first time he showed it to you, when he told you how the ambush on his unit ended with him bitten and his comrade past any hope of saving.

“Y-yeah, I remember…” Wilford said softly, running his fingers over the scars. “Good man, that Dave.”

He blinked hard for a moment before he looked back up at you, and for the first time, recognition seemed to spread across his face. “Y/N! Why, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been, what have you been up to?”

“I’ve been trapped in a mirror for decades.”

“Well, that’s still no excuse not to visit,” Wilford scolded, shaking a finger at you. “You’re as bad as that hunter, haven’t seen that guy since the party. Wonder what he’s been doing.”

“I think he’s been looking for you,” you said, thinking now might not be the time to bring up why. “Is there anyone else from the party that you have seen? Like…”

“I think that butler and the chef opened up a restaurant together,” Wilford said, scratching his chin. “Good place, fun crowd, you should go there sometime.”

“Yeah, I’ve been.” You hesitated, knowing who you really wanted to ask about, but before you got a chance, Wilford was practically in your face, grinning knowingly.

“Go there with someone else?” he asked. “Like on a date?”

“No. I was stuck as a wolf at the time, and couldn’t change back no matter how hard I tried.”

Wilford nodded, as though this was a common problem. “It’s hard to get back into the dating scene after a while. Just give it time, find someone special, you’ll work it out. And don’t marry just because they have a funny name, believe me, it does not last.”

“You got married? What about Celine?” you asked, realizing a fraction of a second too late what you had just said.

But instead of becoming upset, Wilford’s eyes went soft and he said, almost dreamily, “Oh, Celine. My heart still beats for her to this day, or as much as it beats for anything. But if she saw me, she’d probably carve mine out.”

You started to ask why he thought that, only for the memory of that face on the other side of the glass to come to mind, the look of utter disgust on his face before he walked away. So completely different than the man you thought you knew.

You blinked rapidly and focused on your breath, until you felt calm enough to take another shot at getting something close to an answer out of Wilford.

“At the restaurant, I was with someone else,” you said, trying to ignore the knowing smile on his face. “A man who called himself the Host.”

“Like the game show host?” Wilford asked. “Bim’s a bit hard not to recognize, but I can bring him back if you need another go at it—”

“No, not Bim. He wore bandages around his eyes, and walked with a staff. And he had a voice, that could get other people to do what he wanted. Does that sound familiar to you at all?”

There had to be some kind of connection here. At the park, where the Host had been attacked, you smelled what you now recognized was that magitek thing, Google, and his scent had led you to the disco, to Abe, to Wilford.

But Wilford shrugged and said, “Doesn’t ring a bell. Course, it all gets jumbled up, mixed together these days. That Google guy always says I’d wander off on my own if he wasn’t there to keep an eye on me, like I don’t do that every other day. You have to, around here, if you ever want to actually have some fun. Why, if it were up to him, I’d never leave the studio at all!”

“…Why are you here, Wilford?” It occurred to you that Bim had acted as though he had been asked to find somewhere to put Wilford, as though someone had brought him into the studio and only then realized they needed something for him to actually do. You remembered the flyer, the note written on the back of it. “Who asked you to come here?”

He winked at you and said, “Same one who invited you, I’m guessing. You are a VIP, after all.”

Your mind immediately went to the scent that took you from the park to that flyer, to Google. He worked for the studio, but who did he answer to, really? The Jim twins and Bim both invoked the studio’s policies and rules when talking to him—if he really was just a mixture of magic and technology, then it made sense that he would be bound to some kind of rule system, but he still needed someone to give him orders.

“Oh, someone’s looking thinky,” Wilford said. “And that’s no good for anybody. You’ve gotta trust those instincts of yours, Y/N!”

“If I did that, I wouldn’t even be here right now,” you muttered. “Col—Wilford, doesn’t something feel off about this place to you?”

“Mmm…no?” Wilford shrugged and jumped out of his chair, as though sitting still for any length of time was completely beyond him. He paced around a bit before adding over his shoulder, “And is that what your instincts are really saying? To turn tail and run?”

You started to answer, only to hesitate at the last second. Part of you was wishing that you had taken Chase up on his offer to just leave, to let this lie and walk away, but you knew you couldn’t do that. Not when you had found the Colonel again, for the same reason you couldn’t bring yourself to just let Abe leave without trying to reach out to him, even though you had every reason not to trust him. Because you could feel the edge of something bigger here, of answers to questions you had been left alone with for far too long.

“My instinct’s saying someone here knows more than they should, about what happened to us,” you answered, but when you stood up you realized that Wilford wasn’t listening to you anymore.

His gaze was distant, fixed on nothing in particular that you could see.

“Colonel?” you asked, and when he didn’t respond you prodded his arm carefully. “Wilford? Is something wrong?”

He jumped, putting several feet in between the two of you as he brushed at his forehead and said, “Yes? No, just realized that Bim might be on to something with that lunchtime thing. Positively starving, you?”

Before you could answer, he was already moving toward the studio doors at a fast clip that you could barely keep up with when it occurred to you to try and follow him, and he said, “I have a room here, you know? My name on a star and everything, they bring me my meals on the regular there, I bet it’s already waiting.”

“Wilford—” The name still felt strange on your lips as you followed him out into the hallway, where he paused only briefly before lurching off again. “Your…your meals, they aren’t—You still eat a lot of meat, right?”

“Of course! I love me my meat, you won’t see me turning vegetarian anytime soon,” Wilford said, pausing at a door that really did have a star and the name “Wilford Warfstache” on it to give you a wink. “Sorry, I just get a little antsy if it’s been a while. You know how it is.”

“You’re still craving meat,” you said, more of an observation than a question when you could already smell what was waiting for him on the other side of the door. “Has it—has your condition been a problem? I mean, does it seem to have gotten better at all, or…?”

Wilford opened his door and positively beamed at the stack of slabs of meat piled up on a plate, all of which could barely qualify as medium rare. Someone had bothered with trying to season it, at least, but the smell underneath the spices still made your stomach turn.

“I feel like that’s something I would remember…” Wilford mused, the same man who had mistaken you for his dead comrade just minutes ago. You remembered how he told you his hunting kept him well stocked enough to curb the cravings, but you wondered how he had kept that up before ending up here. As your roommates had discovered while trying to feed a wolf, meat was expensive when you weren’t out getting it yourself. That the kitchen staff here were ready to send up this kind of meal on the regular suggested that someone else here knew about Wilford’s condition. He shrugged and asked, “Are you hungry? I’m always willing to share, and the kitchen staff here can send up more—”

“No,” you said quickly, taking a step back from the dressing room. It was one thing to eat that much meat as a wolf, but even then uncooked meat did some bad things to your imagination. “No, I’m…I’m good. Thanks.”

“They make some excellent desserts,” Wilford offered, but his further mentions of cakes and pies while you could still smell the fresh meat just made your nausea worse. “Okay, your loss. Still, don’t be a stranger! I don’t want to wait however long it’s been to see you again, do you hear me?”

“…I’ll try,” you said, and that seemed to be answer enough as he smiled at you before closing the dressing room door behind him. You stood alone in the hallway for a moment, feeling a strange sense of sadness as you looked at the star on the door.

Celine had promised him, once, to help find a cure for the zombie bite that had infected him. That he had been able to stay in control of himself this long was amazing, but you knew from your own condition that just being able to control something didn’t mean that it wasn’t still a problem. It just meant living with the fear of losing that control.

You tried to shake it off, telling yourself those kinds of thoughts right now weren’t exactly helping you or Wilford. Walking back to the elevator, you paused and stared at the up and down arrows, and the directory sign next to the buttons. Chase had said the Jim twins were taking him and Jameson to Studio 5, but you still hesitated to hit the button that would call the elevator. Right now, you found yourself alone and unsupervised in the studio; not a chance you could hope to have very often, or if you rejoined the others.

Inside the elevator, you studied the buttons before selecting the unlit human resources button, just to see where it would take you. Plus, it was near the top where you suspected more of the higher-up offices would be, and someone there might be able to point you in the right direction. Google had said he was going to report to a producer, so maybe it was one of them who hired Wilford. And, if nothing else, being a werewolf did leave you with a talent for eavesdropping from far enough away not to be noticed if you were careful.

Except when the doors slid open on the Human Resources floor, they revealed dark hallways and empty desks, along with a smell of cleaning supplies that hadn’t completely banished the musty scent of undisturbed air and dust bordering on decay. A scent that was all too familiar to you. You punched the close doors button, pressing it over and over again until they finally slid shut and quickly selected the next floor up.

Only to have the doors slide open and reveal a set of offices that looked a lot more like you had expected, alongside a surprised-looking woman standing outside waiting to take the elevator.

“Who are you?” she asked, even as her eyes went down to the visitor’s badge hanging around your neck.

“Uh—”

“Oh, Y/N,” she said, her tone changing quickly. “Did Google send you to the wrong floor? He was supposed to take you to the studio manager’s office himself.”

“Manager?” you repeated. “I think I might have—”

Before you could come up with an excuse, she smiled and said, “Don’t worry, this place can be easy to lose yourself in if you don’t know where you’re going. Let me show you.”

She stepped into the elevator alongside you and pressed yet another button, except this one did have a label: “ID Required.”

“Your badge should work, if Google’s added you to the list,” she said. “Just hold it up in front of the scanner, and it’ll read the code on the bottom.”

Still absolutely baffled as to who this woman was or what was going on, you followed her directions and held your visitor badge up to the black square that until now you had just assumed was for decoration. She patiently turned your hand so that it was facing the correct way, and the elevator gave a different tone before it began moving upward.

“Uh, thanks,” you said, but she just shrugged.

“I’m just glad I caught you. I was about to head to lunch, and I doubt one of the editors would even notice someone was wandering around looking for help. And then I’ve got to go have a talk with Wilford, again…” she muttered the last part, pinching the bridge of her nose underneath her glasses and sighing before she seemed to remember someone else was there. “Is this your first time in the studio?”

“Y-yes, it’s been interesting,” you answered, trying to figure out how to tactfully ask who this studio manager was and why they wanted to see you without giving away that you still weren’t sure why your name had been on the visitor list at all. “I’m guessing you’re one of the producers here?”

“That’s right, name’s Kathryn,” she said, sticking out her hand for you to shake just before the elevator doors slid open once again to reveal a large foyer-like area, well decorated with artwork and an expensive-looking rug, even a set of vaguely humanoid shaped statues on either side of the opposite dark oak doors, alongside plants and wide windows to let in the sunlight and show off the rest of the city further below. “He’ll be waiting for you, just go right in. And if you need anything at all after you’re done here, just let me or one of the crew know.”

“Thank you,” you said, stepping out into the foyer and walking as far as the middle of the room before the elevator doors closed behind you. At which point, you were free to panic on your own.

This was bad.

Either whoever was on the other side of those doors thought you were someone else who just happened to share the same name, or they knew exactly who you were and had been expecting you.

It wasn’t hard to guess which one of those was the worse option, or the more likely one considering Wilford’s presence here as well.

You looked over your shoulder at the elevator doors and the curtain-like drapes to either side that you suspected, based on the layout of the floors below, hid the door to the stairwell. Either one would be an easy escape back down to the others.

You took a deep breath, in the process realizing that this room had recently been cleaned, or wasn’t used often enough for you to be able to pick up the scent of anyone else, familiar or not. A shame, considering the view, and you would have liked to have some kind of idea what you were walking into when you forced yourself to walk toward the set of doors on the other side of the room.

Doors which swung open as you approached, seemingly on their own, to reveal an office on the other side possibly larger and more elegant than the foyer that led into it, if you had been in any state of mind to notice.

Instead, your eyes were drawn toward the desk in the center of the room and the man in a well-tailored suit casually leaning against the front of it who smiled at you and said, in an all too familiar voice:

“Hello, Y/N. Long time, no see.”

A snarl escaped your throat as you lunged forward, nails like claws digging into the polished surface of the desk and leaving deep scratches where the man had been just a moment before. Your other senses caught him, and before he could do so much as breathe, you spun around and slammed him up against the wall behind one of the doors, a growl coming from deep within your chest that sounded a lot more like it came from the wolf.

“You.” It barely came out as a word, as you struggled not to change back right here and now and let the wolf take over everything you’d like to do at the moment.

Only because you wanted to get some answers first, and for that you needed to remain in control and stay human for a little longer, at least.

“Me,” he answered, sounding calm for someone who had a half-transformed werewolf at his throat. Dark eyes studied with you interest, and the heartbeat you could feel underneath your hands was calm, steady, if far too slow. “Although I’m not sure we’re thinking of the same person.”

“I know who you are,” you said, your hand pressing tighter against his neck, forcing his chin up to reveal old scars there and under the collar of his shirt. Scars left by Mark, before he tossed aside this body in favor of a new one that hadn’t suffered as much abuse. “Damien. Or am I talking to Celine?”

He smirked. “That’s a…complicated question these days. The process of taking this body took its toll on Celine which she hasn’t quite recovered from yet, and dear Damien, well…there are some things you can’t walk away from without being changed. I’m sure you can relate.”

You growled, already suspecting that you wouldn’t have nearly enough patience to deal with whoever was piloting this corpse at the moment. Did it really even matter, anymore?

“No, these days most people just call me ‘Dark,’ if they even bother to give me a name. I’m just the studio manager, after all.”

“Dark Entertainment Studios. So they think you named this place after yourself,” you said, but the smirk on his face disappeared when you added, “Guess you and Mark have that in common too, then. Markiplier, Markiplier Manor…”

“Do not compare me to him,” “Dark” said, anything like humor or fake friendliness dropping from his tone. “I am nothing like that man.”

You laughed, a bitter sound that was far too close to becoming tears. “Really? After everything you did, you want to pretend you have some kind of moral high ground over Mark?”

Dark didn’t move, but you felt something grab at your arms, your legs, your chest, a cold darkness that spread from somewhere behind you to wrap you in its tight, choking grip.

“You know better than anyone else what he did to us, Y/N. He betrayed us all, turned us against each other for his own amusement and then left us to die while he walked away in my body, all because he couldn’t handle having his heart broken. He manipulated us, used us, and then—”

“So did you!” You strained forward with another snarl, unsure if the way the office around you was fading was because of whatever was holding you back or because you were cutting off your own blood flow trying so hard to break free from it. “How dare you talk about betrayal and lies?! You left me there, trapped to burn and die over and over again in that mirror for years! Decades! I trusted you, Damien, I believed you, I would have done anything to help you and Celine, and you…”

“Needed to pay a price,” Dark answered coolly, no trace of emotion in his eyes or face despite your words. “Power requires a cost, and returning us all to the land of the living, you back to your body and Celine and Damien to this one, to get these broken bodies of ours moving again, all of that does not come cheaply, my friend.”

He paused at the pained growl that came out of you and walked away, a moment later the grip the darkness had on you disappearing as quickly as it started. You turned to find him standing on the other side of his desk, glancing down at the claw marks you left before looking up at you again.

“Celine and Damien became consumed by their desire for revenge, to do whatever it took to destroy Mark, no matter how long it took, no matter what it cost. Thus was born me, ‘Dark.’ Your…beloved detective has paid a similar price, whether or not he realizes it. And you…you spent your time in the mirror, in your cage of silver, and your price was paid that way.” Dark shrugged easily and said, “It’s one reason I made it a little…easier for your magician to find you. Once the time was right.”

“You—what?”

Marvin had been looking for you, ever since he and the others found out about your disappearance. He had told you that, told you how he had even gone to the house before and found nothing, but only now did it click into place.

“You were hiding me from him. You could have let me go at any moment, and instead you kept anyone else from helping me?”

“Because the price—” Dark paused as you lunged forward and vaulted over the desk only for your clawed hands to slash at empty air, before he continued from the other side of the room, “Had to be paid. I’m not your enemy here, Y/N, whatever you may be thinking right now.”

“You stole my life from me!”

“After you lost it,” Dark answered, again moving out of your reach in the blink of an eye. It was the same way Jackie moved sometimes, when he would show up out of nowhere or disappear just as quickly to go out and do his vigilante work. Whatever Damien and Celine had become, you could smell the entity’s influence still at work here. “After Mark set you up to die, over and over again in his little game. The cards, the silver bullets, in every way he stacked the deck against you. Not that you were the only one; if it were up to him, he would have been the only one to walk out of that house alive.”

“…He was the only one who came back, after you left,” you said, carefully watching Dark for his reaction. “He offered to help me get out of the mirror.”

Dark’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment his form became hazy, as though the darkness was back again and swirling around him with flashes of gray and silver like static. “I’m sure he did. You would make the perfect pet then, being bound to pay back your debt to him. A tempting idea—”

Dark again disappeared and reappeared, but this time you were ready, and it was only the darkness that followed him that held you back as he smirked and continued, “But it does seem like you’re lacking the training someone like him would prefer.”

Mark’s last words came back to you, not that they had ever left you for long since that short conversation.

“I’ll come back around, once you’ve learned how to heel.”

Dark, studying your face closely, saw the flicker in your eyes, the sting of memory, and he took a step closer to you as he said, “I could have been the one to free you from the mirror. I could have brought you back here, nursed you back to health, left you dependent on me for every meal, for every breath of fresh air and whisper of sunlight until you realized that I was the only one you could ever really trust to come back for you. I could have made you mine, no matter how long it took.”

He was closer now, and a hand went to the side of your face, just close enough to leave a trace of warmth without touching you (or being within biting range).

“But what did I do instead? I led your friends to you. I watched from a distance as you gathered your strength, as you readjusted to the world. I used Google to leave a trail for you, away from that pointless detour you were going down to Wilford, to here, so that you could come on your own terms, and meet me face to face,” Dark said. “All because I think, with enough time, you’ll understand. That you can be reasoned with, that you’re not some wild animal that needs to be caged until you’re tamed. Believe me when I say that Mark would not have exchanged the same courtesy, if he had been able to get to you.”

You lunged backward, either breaking the grip the shadow had on you or being let go to keep your distance from Dark, even though you knew this room wasn’t nearly big enough to give you all the distance you wanted right now. “And what, you expect me to be grateful? Like the fact that you had a chance to be even worse and didn’t take it somehow undoes everything else you’ve done?”

You paced back and forth along the side wall of the office, oblivious to the window and view as you passed, to the paintings and the fake plant in the corner because nothing living could survive in this room with him and whatever it was that surrounded him, that toxic air that tore at the back of your mind and, for a moment, made you feel like you were back in the house, back to pacing the floor of a hollow reflection, where your body wanted nothing more than to change to the wolf and the safety and security that form provided.

Your fists clenched, forcing the claws to turn back to fingernails, as you continued, “You trapped me there, left me to suffer, you—I—and for what?! So you could become some TV executive?!”

Level with his desk now, it was an easy swipe of your arm that sent papers flying and his computer monitor crashing to the ground. He did nothing to stop you, and did not even flinch as the coffee mug went sailing by his head, an inch or two off thanks to your still recovering eyesight.

“If you’re done,” Dark started, only to pause as the stapler almost nicked his ear. Your aim was getting better. “Of course, the first thing I did once I left the house was track down Mark, which proved more…difficult, than I imagined it would be. He had been with the entity in that house for so long, had learned so much from it, while I was still a patchwork of broken souls bound together by spite and revenge. He nearly killed me, assuming I can even die anymore.”

His expression changed, the disgust evident in his eyes and the turn of his mouth, or as much as you could see them through the thickening haze around him. “But he let me live. Said every ‘hero’ needed a ‘villain’, and he had such great plans for us and this city.”

He spat out the words, and for a moment you thought you saw not one but two men standing there screaming before the haze around him settled back into one form. “If you thought the little game he had us play back at the party was bad, then you cannot begin to imagine what has followed since then, even if it started off small. Our deaths on the front page of every paper must have ruined any hope he had of slinking his way back into society even with a new face, and we both had to be careful not to attract any unwanted attention.”

“So, the first ‘game’ was how to regain power, how to manipulate from the shadows. He chose his pawns, and I chose a medium that I saw some potential in,” Dark smirked and added, “Mostly in the potential it had to hurt the former actor’s ego, I will admit, but still, it has turned out far better than I could have ever expected. First TV, then all the opportunities a more connected world provided with such a willing and eager audience.”

“Why?” you asked, trying to ignore the prickle under your skin that suggested fur trying to grow out. “What’s the point of all of this?”

“We can tear each other apart all we want, but we’ve both grown stronger over the years and the casualties for everyone around us would be…significant, if that happened. Like destroying all of the chess pieces until there’s not even a board left to play on. So instead, we find other outlets to gain an advantage over the other. Mark would say that it’s a fight for the soul of this city, but then he was always the one for delusions of heroism,” Dark said with a roll of his eyes. “This city isn’t the one you remember, but you’ve probably already realized that. Technology, progress, all of that. And monsters, allowed to live out in the open! Assuming they’re the right kind of monster, of course, as long as they can be tamed and fit within his precious view of what is right and good.”

“Meanwhile, I’ve been more than welcoming to our…less than conventional employees here. Under my protection, they have nothing to fear from the Bronson Institute. Bim Trimmer would be a stuffed curiosity if Mark had his way, but here he can be in front of the camera, in the homes and on the phones of millions, to become comfortable to them. He used to be nothing more than a glorified gate guardian, and now people come to the studio to have selfies taken with him and to get his autograph. And the same goes for every other nonhuman that appears on his shows.”

Dark stepped closer and you immediately took a step back, but he merely bent down to pick up a knickknack that had been knocked to the floor during your sweeping off of the desk. It was a metal recreation of the studio’s logo, a silhouette of the city skyline with D.E. Studios engraved into it with a cursive script, and weighty enough that if you had been thinking clearly you would have tried to hurl it at his face before knocking it to the ground.

“Influence what people see, what they’re exposed to, and you influence what they think. There’s a power in that, and I think that I have used mine well, don’t you?” Dark asked.

You bit back your instinctive response to that, very aware that Dark was trying to do just that right now. Control what he told you, paint a picture that portrayed him as the suffering hero here and influence what you thought. Instead, you asked, “Is that why you brought Wilford here? To protect him? But if so, why wait until now?”

“When has Wilford ever needed my protection? His mind isn’t what it used to be, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but he still has that same astonishing ability to survive whatever comes his way. No...” Dark frowned down at the studio logo, turning it over in his hands as though searching for something on its surface, before he looked back up at you.

“These games, they’re not just about the ‘fate of the city’ or whatever you want to call it. Mark wants power, but more than that, he wants to make everyone who hurt him suffer as much as he thinks he suffered. And I’ll admit that at least for me, the feeling is mutual. The same night you broke free from the mirror, Wilford was playing what would be his last show at that disco, and a certain hunter was on his way back to the city. Do you really think that was a coincidence? A new game has started, and Mark and I have already chosen our players.”

You stared at him as this information sank in. Wilford was here, under Dark’s protection, which meant that he must have “chosen” him. And there was only one person Mark would choose if that was the case, only one person who had been searching after the Colonel all this time already, who Dark had already said was just as consumed by revenge as the man you once thought you knew. It would be so easy to push him in the right direction and watch him go.

“And how do these games of yours end?” you asked, your mouth so dry that you could barely get the words out.

Dark raised an eyebrow at that, his expression saying that you both already knew the answer to that.

Among the remains of everything that had once been on his desk, there was a low buzz before Google’s voice came from the surprisingly still functioning black glass orb that was cracked down the middle.

“Sir, there is an issue that requires your permission for maximum response.”

Dark sighed and nudged the device with the toe of his shoe, causing the surface of it to change and become a lighter shade of gray. Perhaps it was lighting up with some color, but you couldn’t be sure and it didn’t seem to matter much when it began to flicker and stutter.

“I’m going to go ahead and assume the answer is no, but explain.”

Google’s voice was distorted when he spoke through the device again, glitching and stuttering as he said, “Your-your response is-is-is unclear, Sir. There appears to be an err-err-error in the—”

There was a garble of noise before his voice came through again, “Unauthorized intruders in the-in the-in the—one matching record on fi-i-i-ile, Abe—”

Another garble of static, and when Dark attempted to prod the device again, it responded by neatly splitting in half along the crack as the glow within died completely.

“I paid a lot for that,” Dark remarked, sounding surprisingly calm despite this latest revelation. “A direct line to that Google unit, among other things.”

“You mean you can’t get him back?” you asked. “What’s he going to do to Abe?”

“Well, without directions from an authorized source, he will have to resort to his programming. Or at least, how he chooses to interpret it in this situation.” Dark shrugged and said, “He generally tends to prefer the lethal options. A bit of a problem that his creator couldn’t be bothered to work out in the first run of development, I suspect.”

“Then tell him to stop,” you growled, stepping up to Dark only for him to stare you down.

“And how, exactly, am I to do that? You destroyed the device, and as I don’t know where in the building they are, calling around isn’t likely to be helpful. And of course, you make the mistake of assuming that I care.” Dark didn’t flinch as you grabbed him again, and there was no attempt by his shadow to defend himself as he continued, “I’m not stopping you from doing whatever you want, Y/N, but I’m not about to do anything for that man. You can run and find your precious hunter, but I think in the long run you will wish you had stayed here and let Google do his job. A hunter is a hunter, after all, and you…”

He cast his eyes down before meeting yours again, and you became painfully aware of your current state. You could feel the shape of your teeth that did not belong in this mouth, the fur still itching to show itself, the claws digging into the palms of your hands. All it would take was a single push, and you would change entirely with no guarantee of how long it would take to change back, assuming you even could.

But you couldn’t let this happen, either.

“This game is over,” you snarled into his face, promising yourself that this wasn’t going to end here, that you would make sure Dark and Mark both paid for what they had done.

Until then though, you had more important things to worry about, starting with finding Abe before Google found him, or before he found Wilford.

Dark watched you run out of the office and tear back the curtains hiding the door to the stairs in the foyer before disappearing from sight. He smiled to himself and leaned back against his desk, oblivious to the mess around his feet. His fingers, however, found the deep marks you had left behind on the otherwise smooth, dark surface. So much anger, so much fear, and so much confusion.

It was almost too easy.

((End of Part 23. Thanks for reading! Fun fact, in the first ideas for this story, it was Actor Mark who was running the studio, but I feel like Dark being here fits better. Plus, more of a Markiplier TV feel that way. I also had Dark casually admitting that sometimes there’s the occasional “accident” involving audience members or contestants, before I remembered that he’s supposedly trying to get Y/N on his side. XD

The next part is the one that I wanted to get to before I started posting again, which is why there might be another delay after tomorrow. I’ll talk more about that in the notes section of that part.

Link to Part 24: Three Shots Fired.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox @hidinginmybochard ))

[revchainsaw]

The Lost Boys (1987)

The City of Santa Carla, CA has a vampire problem and that's just the sort of thing i've been looking for. We are amping up to Summerween my flock. What better way to get in the spirit of the season than with this 80s Vampire flick set in a balmy california beach town.

I can't lie, having just recently viewed the 1985 film Fright Night, it got me comparing the two so you may read some of my opinions comparing and contrasting The Lost Boys with it's predecessor. But where Fright Night is a classic vampire story brought into the then contemporary 1980s, the Lost Boys was the decades very own vampire film. Drawing from classic vampire films and the story of Peter Pan in equal parts the Lost Boys set the precedent that vampire films would draw from for years to come.

Sermon

The Emerson family falls on hard times financially and therefor moves to the town where Grandpa Emerson, the patriarch of the family grew up; Santa Carla, CA. The family has recently experienced a schism due to divorce, leaving the family unit as a grandfather, a mother and 2 sons, Michael and Sam.

Michael is quiet and masculine, his interests include fitness, motorcycles, and girls, while Sam is a bit more timid. Sam is into comic books and still can't sleep with his closet door open. The two begin to explore their surroundings, and while Sam meets the self-certain and precocious Frog brothers, self proclaimed Vampire hunters, Michael is lure by a young woman named Star into a group of predatory teenage vampire punks. Which let's face it, if they were to lean into the schlock, Teenage Vampire Punks would have been a great alternative title.

These Lost Boys as we'll call them seem to be led by David, played by Keifer Sutherland. David and his gang seek to initiate michael and through some manipulation trick him into drinking vampire blood disguised as wine. This turns Michael into a half vampire, who must fully give up his humanity to join the family.

Sam learns of his brothers transformation and after a little adjustment seeks the aid of the Frog brothers. They decide they must defeat the lead vampire to return Michael to normal, and astutely as we'll later find out (no spoiler warning, the movies almost 30 years old), pegs his mom's new boyfriend Max as the head Vamp. Max outwits the boys attempts to prove his vampirism, and thus they settle on the belief that David is the big bad.

The Frog brothers invade the Lost Boys hideout and kill Bill of Wyld Stallyns fame. They narrowly escape into the daylight before David can exact his revenge, but they know they have targets on their backs and they prepare themselves for a vampiric siege. The Lost Boys attack the Emersons and the Frog brothers and are defeated one by one. David is killed by Michael but no return to normalcy occurs. Max reveals himself to be the big bad, right before Grandpa Emerson returns and saves his family from this Peter Pan's Neverland. Grandpa hops out of his truck and delivers one of the greatest final zingers in film history.

The Benediction

Best Character: Did you know David means Beloved?

It's true look it up, it's Hebrew. David is the prototype for the young, rebellious, sexy vampire. It wasn't long after the lost boys that we got Spike in Buffy the vampire slayer, who is let's be honest just the 90's version of David. Spike my be a bit more of a lone wolf, but David is hands down the best character in this movie, and really what competition does he have other than the Frog brothers? Michael is kind of a lump, even if he's a lump who resembles Jim Morrison.

I am also going to include best actor into this category. All the charisma and charm falls on Kiefer Sutherland, as he acts circles around everyone else on screen. There's a reason the image of David is what you think of every time you think of this movie. He's not even the main antagonist of the movie. David is a great look, a scary vampire, a great actor in a great role.

Worst Character: Who's the Kid?

The first time I ever saw Lost Boys, i didn't understand how Michael and Star had a kid already. It was later that I realized he's just some kid. He doesn't really add anything but a cool looking image of a vampire faced little boy. Kind of a superfluous part. Not bad, just extra and unnecessary.

Best Kill: Death Breath (or Guard Dog on Duty)

The best kill of Lost Boys is when the Frog brothers defeat ... Paul? one of the other vampires besides David. Whoops did I say the Frog brothers defeated him? No, that was actually Nanook coming in for the kill. The Frog Bros fail to succesfully off this bloodsucker when Nanook barges into the bathroom and knocks this punk into a tub of Holy Water. The gore on the vamps face is excellent and probably some of the better practical effects work in the film.

Best Effect: Holy Water Works

While the Vampire melt itself is pretty darn good to look at, it's immediately followed by a volatile reaction that Sam Raimi would be proud of. The whole bathroom convulses and erupts with blood, it comes out of every pipe! the toilet explodes! It's awesome!

Best Aspect: Not your Big Brothers Vampire Movie

I had mentioned earlier that I had been comparing this movie to Fright Night, and as much as I love that older film, the Lost Boys beats it at almost every way. The effects in Fright Night are above bar constantly and hold nothing back, but the film for all of it's unrelenting visuals is actually quite slow. The Lost Boys and Fright Night definitely represent how much youth culture can change in just 2 years. You'd be forgiven for thinking these films take place in different decades. The Lost Boys is faster, has more attitude, and is much more adventurous in it's scope than Fright Night. If Fright Night was Judas Priest then the Lost boys is Iron Maiden. It's not as mature, but it's just that rebellious juvenility that gives it it's punch.

Worst Aspect: Mini Max

As far as big bads go. If I could make another comparison to Fright Night, it would be so much more intimidating the have a charming Jerry Dandridge playing his games with the Emersons, as his underlings The Lost Boys get the dirty work done and have fun doing it. However, we end up with this kind of dorky dude, who is even written off in the second act, only to return at the ass end of the movie just to be immediately slain and provide the but of the final quip. It was pretty weak sauce.

Best Dog: Nanook

Nanook is a good dog. He does all the protecting and is the best vampire hunter in the movie. Sorry Frog Bros.

Runner Up Dog: Thorn

Thorn is a good dog. But Thorn is also a bad dog. Thorn is a hellhound familiar to Max, but she is still good at doing dog stuff. So round of applause for this good girl.

Best make-up: Vampire Face

Fright Night stomps all over Lost Boys in the effects department, except for in the design of the horrific vampire face. The vampire face in Fright Night looks like a prosthetic sitting on an actors face. It doesn't feel like that mouth could be used for eating or biting but is just there to look creepy. In moving away from that the make up artists for the Lost boys focused more on the upper parts of the face, creating an almost cat like predatory look for when the vampires are at their most carnivorous. This style was absolutely borrowed by the team on Buffy the Vampire Slayer years later, and it's an aspect of Vampires in film that has sadly gone away. Sign the petition, let's bring back vampire face.

Best Feature: The Soundtrack

It would be impossible to talk about the Lost Boys without talking about the soundtrack. There's not one standout song in this movie, some may argue the Echo and the Bunnymen cover of People are Strange, but I think it's just one incredibly well utilized song of many for this film. Listen to the whole soundtrack, it's all good.

Summary

In the 80s there were several attempts to resurrect the monsters of old. Several directors who had grown up on the Universal monsters were now in the position to make films themselves. The resistance to rely on vampires and werewolves was fading and these sorts of monster movies were finally being green lit. Arguably, An American Werewolf in London is the best of these films, but the Lost Boys is definitely the most representative of the movement. It's not a satire, its funny but not a comedy, it's not parody or a subversion. The Lost Boys is 100% the definitive 80s Vampire Movie.

Grade: A

[kiara-carrera]

comfort starters “we’re okay— everything is gonna be okay.” and “it’s over now.” for natalya and mal pls 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼❤️❤️❤️

warning for violence, blood, and character death

The Fjerdan snow stung the exposed skin of her hands, so cold it was almost burning. Natalya had heard the stories about the unforgiving nature of these lands, how if you strayed too far into a white-out, you were likely to lose more than just the feeling in your limbs.

She wasn’t sure why she was thinking of this now, on the other end of a Fjerdan soldier’s knife. 

She can’t understand a thing he’s shouting at her. Although, that’s due more to her incessant screams and cries than because of her lack of fluency in the northerner’s language. 

The tracking unit had made camp for the night, a necessary evil on their hunt for Morozova’s stag. They were hunting after something intangible, a character in a children’s fable, and they’d strayed into enemy territory. And they were paying for it.

Natalya had been dragged from her tent, kicking and screaming, while bloodshed surrounded her. In a group of eleven, she wasn’t sure how many were going to make it out alive.

Around them, blood stained the virgin snow, dripping down into the sheets of white. She could see them, her friends, lifeless on the ground. Mikhail and Dubrov were only feet from each other, bodies slumped in heaps.

Tears streamed down her face as the Fjerdan climbed on top of her, drawing his knife up.

“Please, please!” she screamed, her throat raw from the severity of it all. But just as the Fjerdan made no sense to her, her Ravkan tongue did little to persuade the soldier.

She foolishly wondered if removing the language barrier would have made any difference.

She knew it wouldn’t have.

But still, there was something not quite right about this situation. Something was wrong.

Her head turned out of instinct as the knife was brought down, but before her eyes could squeeze shut, she caught a glimpse of something that made her insides freeze up, as if the ice of the lands was being injected into her veins.

Mal. 

He was in a lifeless heap just feet from her, rifle only inches from his fingers. The soldier who killed him slipped the knife from his chest like it was nothing, like nothing unholy was happening on these supposedly sacred lands. Mal had been killed. He had been here and now he was dead, not a single shred of life behind his eyes.

Dead, just like the others, just as she was going to be.

This was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Natalya screamed as the knife was plunged into her chest.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Natalya woke with a start, flying up in her bunk, hands clutching her chest. There was a piercing shriek mixed with near violent sobs echoing through the room and it takes her an uncomfortably long moment to realize that it was her who was screaming, that it was her who was crying.

Fat tears stream down her face as she tried to get ahold of herself. The nightmare wasn’t real. She hadn’t been stabbed, she’d killed the Fjerdan in her nightmare, had shot him right in the chest. The others had died, but her and Mal ... they’d made it out. They weren’t in Fjerda anymore.

She was in Os Alta, in the Little Palace, in the bunk room that once belonged to the oprichniki, the Darkling’s faithful lapdogs. The room was bleak as ever and the feeling of her blankets under her and the drab, familiar decor was doing little to quell the panic that was ripping through her.

It felt like her heart was pumping faster than it ever had before, erratically trying to claw its way out of her chest. She could hear the blood pumping in her ears as she tried to calm herself down, so loud that she didn’t hear the door slam open or the sound of someone climbing into her bunk beside her.

Strong arms wrapped around her torso, a faint woodsy aroma filling her senses as she was pulled into an equally strong chest. She flailed a little, a surprised squeal escaping her.

“Hey, hey, Tally,” a hurried voice called out, a hand raking across her hair. “Tally, what’s wrong?”

Mal.

It was Mal. He wasn’t dead, no. He was here. He’d been pardoned with her, exiled from the First Army, but pardoned none the less. He hadn’t met his end on the other end of a blade. She’d killed the last Fjerdan, she’d practically carried him back to the First Army station in Chernast. They’d made it.

Still, it wasn’t enough to extinguish the icy hand of fear clawing at her heart, her lungs, her mind.

“Nightmare,” she finally gasped out. Her breathing was evening just a bit, the smell of trees “Fjerda. We, we didn’t — they were too quick, we didn’t, you didn’t —”

“It’s over now,” he told her firmly. “We made it out, alright? We’re okay — everything’s going to be okay.”

She wanted to laugh in that moment, knowing that statement couldn’t be father from the truth. Unless they went after the Firebird and Alina claimed the last of the amplifiers, the Darkling was still a looming threat. Everything these days was political, meetings with the Grisha, doing rounds outside of Alina’s room, listening to Nikolai prattle on about the future of this saintforsaken country (or his flying ships, whatever happened to tickle his fancy at the moment). But no one seemed to be focused on the shadow looming over them.

They couldn’t let Ravka fall to the Darkling, but at this rate, Natalya wasn’t sure what choice they’d have.

Mal, who seemed to be capable of reading her like a book in this moment, only held her tighter, whispering into her hair. “I’m not going to let anything like that happen to you, again, you hear me? I’m going to keep you safe.”

[insomniacowl]

Neon Genesis Evangelion analysis Chapter 16 Seele, Gehrin, Nerv and…

Seele All-Star Special?

The United nation in the world of NGE is merely an assembly of multinational military forces that finds itself struggling to keep itself together amidst the devastation and strife the Second impact has brought onto the world. As we have discussed in previous chapters, the secret organization Seele was behind this catastrophe. ‘Seele’ is a German word meaning ‘Soul’ and we are shown that there are fifteen members at its highest level. While many believe the correct number to be twelve, in just one single scene in the renewal version episode 24 when they are talking to Kaworu, we see fifteen monoliths.

Because they are loosely based off of the twelve apostles of Jesus twelve seems to be the correct number and perhaps showing fifteen monoliths were a mistake that slipped through the cracks of production. But, I argue that this is born out of attempts to legitimize the Christian symbolism more then it was intended and that there is something that could be said regarding the number of monoliths that we see here. This I will cover in greater detail in the chapter (19) covering Kaworu.

Out of Seele's members, we are familiar with five of them, namely Lorenz Keel, and four others that we do see the face of. All other members are shown only via voice coming from the monoliths that are numbered. Considering that another inspiration for this organization was the Freemasons, the numbers likely refer to their hierarchy or order of admittance. 

The face of Lorenz Keel

We are never told where Seele originated from and this secretive origin is canon; not even the residents of the world of NGE know their past. But we still know that they are influential to the point they can mobilize the UN to do their biddings and that work under the guidance of the “Scenario” that is laid out in the Dead seas scroll. The Scrolls also contains the information of the two moons, Lance of Longinus, and the number of angels they are to expect.

Some believe that the scrolls also mention Evangelions, but that is a rumor. There is no evidence to suggest that.

Let us now talk a little about Keel. What kind of person is he? We can tell from the end of Evangelion that half of his body (Maybe more) has been replaced with cybernetic implants. Perhaps the goggle that we always see him wearing might not be a goggle but cybernetic eyes that he uses. 

This points to the possibility that Keel is actually older then he seems to be, this leading some to theorize that Seele might be “A group of immortal robot-human hybrids” but due to other members of Seele not being shown in this sequence, we cannot say anything definitive about this argument

The truth of Keel Lorenz

A little side note on the End of Evangelion where we are shown Keel’s mechanical body. While many interpret it as the producers of the series showing us the long time and great effort Seele’s members have invested into achieving HIP, I believe that we can also see this as (at least) Keel being a complex character who speaks of wanting to ‘transcend’ life and death via HIP while having an obsession with life so great that he has chosen to extend his life by artificial methods

The council of HIP

Coming back to our main topic and move onto the scene where we see five of the Seele members. This special meeting is aptly naming the “Human instrumentality Project council special summon” and are conducted among five of the top members of Seele and happens five times throughout the series. The colors on each of their tables symbolize the countries that each of them comes from.

First White for Germany and Keel. Yellow for France (this character shares the VA with Fuyutsuki), Blue for Russia, Green for the U.S, and Red for the UK. In the series itself, we are only told of the country of origin of the Green in episode 14, the rest is information from the Evangelion collection book. Some would have realized that four out of the five mentioned here are the 'Permanent Members of the United Nations Security Council', the difference being China having been replaced by Germany.

Why this choice of a dark room though?

Out of the five nations represented, Germany plays a significant role in the world of Evangelion. Germany suffered one of the biggest damages of the Second Impact, has the 3rd Nerv operations base where both Kaji and Misato worked in the past. Germany was also the country of origin of Asuka and was where she received her training.

In the bible, seven eyes represent the ‘All-knowing’

This is about all we know, thus able to discuss Seele. In the end, they are sort of Deus Ex Machina that is used to explain away financial, influential, political requirements required by Nerv. Even if the viewers complain that "This is unrealistic!", Seele serves to explain it away.

Moving on from Seele, let us now talk about Seele’s subordinate organization Gehrin, and its successor Nerv.

Akagi Naoko, first-generation member of Gehrin

In German, Gehrin means ‘Brain’ and is the name of the organization that Seele gave their line of support after the Second impact. It was an organization that focused mainly on the construction of the Evangelions and was shown building its headquarters in the third Tokyo city (where current Nerv headquarters is located). It was headed by Gendou with the support of Akagi Naoko working as the head researcher. Since the nature of their activities had to be kept a secret, the public was told that Gehrin was a UN subordinate research facility focused on researching ‘Artificial evolution’.

Ironically, this cover identity falls in line perfectly with what they were actually doing. once the goals of constructing Evangelions were achieved, Gehrin disbanded and was replaced with Special operative organization Nerv run by the same people who were in charge of Gehrin. Simply said, the biggest change was their name. 

Yet the organization's name was not the only difference these two organizations had. While Gehrin focused on creating the capacity required for using Evangelions and were completely secretive of their activities, Nerv was more public (although with half-truths) of their activities and publicized goal of the organization ‘an organization focused on repelling the angels’. Across the seven operation bases around the world, they focused on achieving ‘peace for humankind’ and even had an active PR department. 

Let’s also talk a little about the iconographies of Nerv. Nerv is the root word for Nerve in English and is used in the same way. It refers to the nerve in our body but also to the ‘Nerve to do something’. As an organization that succeeded Gehrin (Brain) and carries out its plans to fight the angels, I believe the name is very apt.

The Nerv logo is a leaf of a fig tree. In the book of Genesis, Eve uses the leaf of the fig tree to cover herself when she felt shame after eating the fruit of knowledge. For Seele and Nerv that operate to undo the original sin, the choice of the fig leaf is also highly fitting.

The passage on the bottom of the logo “God’s in his heaven. All’s right with the world” comes from Robert Browning’s ‘Pippa Passes’ and is a cynical way of saying that even without a god, the world runs well enough on its own.

Commander: Since when did the UN become a toy (Unit – 02) delivery service? 

If they had the money to spend on such toys, they should send some funds our way.

While Nerv is considered the UN’s subordinate organization, it appears that this is only concerning the direction of funds flowing towards Nerv. We can see that the UN is in fact under the control of Nerv. This is shown well in Episode 8 when the commander of the fleet complains of the state of things and how powerless he feels following the orders of Nerv. Furthermore, we can see in episode 21’s newspaper that the UN moved its headquarters to the third Tokyo city for convenience. Of course, we know that Nerve has a strong influence only with Seele supporting them. When Seele stopped their support, we all know what has happened to them. So we can say that Nerv was in its best operative condition when they were fighting off the angels. After all, that was what Nerv was made for.

Calendar of important dates in Evangelion

4 Billion BC

Adam arrives on earth

Lilith arrives on earth

First Impact

 1947

Dead Seas scroll discovered

 9th April 1956

Birth of Fuyutsuki

 19th April 1967

Birth of Rokubunki Gendou

 30th March 1977

Birth of Ikari Yui

 1985

17th June Birth of Kaji Ryoji

21st November Birth of Akagi Ritsuko

 8th December 1986

Birth of Katsuragi Misato

 11th July 1991

Birth of Ibuki Maya

 1999

Fuyutsuki meets Yui

Fuyutsuki meets Gendou

Yui and Gendou begin courtship

 2000

12th September Gendou returns to Japan from Antarctica

13th September Second impact

Professor Katsuragi Dies

Birth of Kaworu

15th September India enters into war with Pakistan

20th September Old Tokyo destroyed by a nuclear bomb

 2001

14th February Valentine peace treaty signed

6th June Birth of Ikari Shinji

12th September Birth of Aida Kensuke

4th December Birth of Asuka

26th December Birth of Suzuhara Touji

 2002

Gendou and Fuyutsuki joins arctic exploration team under UN investigations council

18th February Birth of Horaki Hikari

 2003

Construction of Evan begins

Blueprint of Magi drafted

Fuyutsuki joins Gehrin

China – Vietnam war begins

Japanese self-defense force created

 2004

Death of Ikari Yui

Ikari Shinji put under the care of ‘Teacher’

Gendou proposes Human instrumentality project

Birth of First Rei

 2005

Death of Kyoko Zeppelin

Asuka begins pilot training

Misato meets Ritsuko

Misato begin cohabitation with Kaji

Construction of third Tokyo city begins

 2007

UN headquarters moved to Second Tokyo

Misato break up with Kaji

 2008

Construction of Magi begins

Ritsuko graduates Second Tokyo university and joins Gehrin

 2010

Misato and Kaji joins Gehrin

Magi completes. On the same day, Naoko and First Rei die. By suicide and straggling respectively.

Gehrin becomes Nerv

 2012

Ikari Shinji meets his father for the first time in eight-year at Yui’s grave

 2014

Ayanami Rei joins the Third Tokyo middle school

Asuka graduates university

Entry plug constructed

 2015

Angel advances

TBC Chapter 17 Angel advances

[talesofafangirlwithadvr]

REVIEW: EMMA (2020)

Anytime a new adaptation comes out I’m always very hesitate to watch it. Will it live up to its previous incarnation? Why are they making another when there’s already so many? And if it’s based on a book+has had many films already=I can be a very harsh critic. However, with the more reviews I read about Autumn de Wilde’s new take on Jane Austen’s novel, the more pumped I got. (I was upset I had to wait till March as it was in select theaters this February.) I am very happy I got to see it because I enjoyed it a lot. So whether you are a Jane Austen/Emma fan, have seen Clueless once or twice and are curious about the source material or want to escape from all the Corona virus news for a bit, I would highly suggest venturing to your local movie theater to see it. More than likely you will have the theater basically to yourself, like I did. 

Spoilers for the source material are bound to come, so if you are still reading the novel or want to be a bit surprised I would suggest skimming this section. 

Bill Nighy portrayed a fantastic Mr. Woodhouse.

The way this film was marketed it continually brought up how Emma is Jane Austen’s comedy. Now, all of Austen’s work is comedic, but Emma could have some things we will find especially funny as it could be the farthest from our lives (just like it was back then for Austen’s readers). In this adaptation I really could feel the humor attribute making this a true comedy in my eyes. Most of that is thanks to Bill Nighy’s performance. 

Mr. Woodhouse’s hypochondria is his biggest character trait and is always a laugh as he is often given some of the most ridiculous statements. (ie: Cake not being good for children.) Nighy strongly delivered on this and also brought a new characteristic to him (and I’m not just talking about the amazing patterns he wore). He did a great job with physical humor. I loved his interactions with the servants. Which, speaking of...I really liked how much involvement the servants had. This version, specifically, had the most servants shown (compared to previous Emmas) and while they never spoke (as would be expected during this time period) there was SO much humor present. From finding the draft for Mr. Woodhouse out the window (”Miss Taylor would have felt it”), moving all the screens (still a great way for Mr. Woodhouse to show he knew something was going on between Emma and Mr. Knightley) or quickly turning their backs. They also helped to show how rich these characters really are. As social class is a huge part of this story. 

Anya Taylor Joy is poised and highlights Emma’s social class.

With Joy’s portrayal of our lead heroine, I felt like we got an Emma that was very accurate to the novel, but one we do not often see. Here, you got a true sense of Emma’s wealth (as her maids are seen dressing her or fitting her for a new outfit, as well as the ornaments in her hair) as well as her selfishness. By this I mean we got a look into Emma’s world and how she wants to see what she desires. This was seen very early with Emma’s reaction to Miss. Bates in church and then also when they meet Miss. Bates in the shop and hear of Jane’s letter. Other adaptations seem to give her the air of compassion (even if it is just in her face and then she talks badly later). As a very big fan of BBC’s 2009 Emma and of Romola Garai’s Emma it was hard for me to not compare the two versions. Of course, starting with Emma in this role allows for a larger character development, but I still would have liked to see a little more interest in others. 

I loved how many lines were super accurate to the novel. I could often recite what was coming up next. (Yes, I know I’m a big nerd.) 

Johnny Flynn quickly becomes one of my favorite Knightleys.

Again, another hard thing about so many adaptations, seeing so many versions of these literary characters. As I mentioned with the section on Emma’s character specifically, I am a big fan of the BBC’s 2009 mini-series, so whenever I think of Mr. Knightley my mind goes to Jonny Lee Miller (or Brent Bailey from Emma Approved). 

*swooning*

But where was I... oh yes! After watching the trailer I wasn’t sure about this Mr. Knightley (I wasn’t super familiar with Flynn), but he quickly grew on me early on in the film. I really like the early allusions of him and Emma liking one another. His “rivalry” with Frank Churchill made me chuckle every time. I thought it was strange they never brought up how he knows Emma or why he’s over all of the time. Especially when her sister came with all of her kids. Her husband is Knightley’s younger brother, but it’s never mentioned. That could help with not focusing on Emma and Knightley’s large age difference. I like how here we didn’t hear any of those creepy statements like how he remembers holding her when she was a baby. I LOVED their dance (as I expected I would. It’s a HUGE moment) and their reaction afterward was precious: watching them both come to terms with what just happened and how they were feeling. I honestly thought they would admit their feelings right then. It was a PERFECT addition. When Emma asks Frank to stay, and Knightley is obviously upset, but she’s clearly asking for Harriet. Oh the drama! It was great. I was worried the strawberry picking at Donwell wouldn’t have happened, but it followed this scene, which was great because now Emma was aware of her growing feelings and then Harriet is swooning over Knightley who is ignoring Emma. It feels like something straight out of high school (no wonder why Clueless works so well).  

While I loved the addition of this scene, I did feel like the end was a bit rushed, especially once we get to Box Hill. For me Frank and Jane’s reveal always feels weird, but that felt even more forced (although you do get more glances from them in the film) and I understand we don’t have a full 4 hours to show everything, but it just felt like a lot all at once. Despite all of this the proposal was still great and very accurate to the novel. I just don’t understand the nose bleed.

Justice for Harriet with Mia Goth

Emma and Harriet Smith’s relationship is one that I always find problematic. If Emma didn’t feel lonely after losing Miss Taylor/Mrs. Weston she more than likely would not have met Harriet Smith and taken her “under her wing.” Harriet’s life gets turned upside down. She goes from getting proposed to by the farmer, Robert Martin, to turning him down, thinking she’s in love with Mr. Elton, getting her heart broken, falling in love again, but then being wrong about that one too. Then in the end she winds up with Robert Martin, who she would have been happy with in the first place. Mr. Knightley says it well, when he mentions how the more time Emma spends with her, the more she will be out of her world and not apart of Emma’s. Often, I don’t feel justice for Harriet at the end of the film because of the way they treat her character. She is a main focal point at the start of the novel, but then other matters seem to become more serious. In this film, I think I have finally seen one of the best ways her character is handled, specifically at the end of the story. When Emma abruptly stops Knightley during his proposal, it is because (at first) she thinks he will tell her that he loves Harriet (as she just professed to Emma), but in this film we see Emma have this realization as she is about to say her true feelings to Knightley in response to his proposal. Something clicks in her that it is not right. Now my first thought was because of her father. Mainly because of how against change he is. But it is actually for Harriet, which I thought was really refreshing. And then the next scene is us seeing Emma telling Harriet what happened. But it doesn’t stop there. We get to see Harriet finish her story and even share a loving moment with Robert Martin before Emma and Knightley truly unite. It was a very nice touch to this film. 

Go see Emma. You’ll love it as much as I did and then want to watch a bunch of different adaptations afterwards because you can never get enough! 

[tbr-agency]

a ‘little’ jealousy.

“Who is he?”

⤷  Haejin accompanied Jaebeom to Deepshower’s club for an event, as his bodyguard, not knowing Jaebeom's jealousy would be tested.

timeline ⟶ June 2020

characters : Lee Haejin (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒) , Im Jaebeom (Got7) , Deepshower, Ichiyanagi Daisuke (𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐌)

warnings ⟶ mention of smoking, slightly rated since it involves tongue (?)

“You don’t have to come with me, you know.”

“But I wanted to come.”

“You’re coming just because you missed going to the club and you find this as an opportunity right?” Jaebeom teasingly glared towards Haejin whose eyes were focusing on the road since she was driving - though Jaebeom insisted to drive instead.

“Well... 40% of it.. yeah.. But 60% of it is I wanted to go clubbing with my boyfriend, is it wrong?” Haejin innocently gazed towards Jaebeom - causing him to chuckle flusteredly.

“I was about to nag at you but since you put it that way, I’m honored to go clubbing with you then.” answered Jaebeom while holding Haejin’s free hand - earning a slight giggle from her.

It’s been a while that the both of them had the same schedule together - ever since Haejin was promoted to be a trainer in MMG, so as the girls. 

Since Got7 was allowed to go back to their individual apartments, Haejin would always drop by Jaebeom’s apartment - to spend time with him that would always end up cuddling and eating dinner together before Haejin leaves to her shared house.

“Haejin-ah, can I see your bag?” 

Before Haejin could answer him, Jaebeom already reached out to the back seat to grab her bag. 

She took a glance towards him, to see him rummaging her bag, knowing what he was looking for.

“Are you checking if I brought the box?” questioned Haejin bemusedly.

“I told you I’m trying to quit, so I didn’t bring one.”

“Oh yeah? You said that before leaving Virginia and I heard from your staff that you were caught smoking outside the university.” answered Jaebeom bluntly and Haejin could feel his eyes on her - making Haejin to be flustered.

“It’s hard okay, but I’m trying my best. Knowing that I will be in Korea forever, I’ll try my very best.... for you and maybe for myself.” said Haejin genuinely while her eyes were on the road. 

Haejin wasn’t a heavy smoker but from time to time, she would end up finishing half of the sticks in one box. 

“Please, for me.” added Jaebeom softly while holding onto Haejin’s hand.

Haejin wasn’t a stranger to flashy lights and loud bass. 

As soon as the couple step into the club, Jaebeom walks closely towards Haejin as they walk past random people.

Knowing that they were in public, the couple had to minimize their PDA - afraid that his fans might be there but Haejin knows that most of the people there are mostly Deepshower’s friends since she could recognize some of them.

“Jaebeom-ah! Haejin!”

A familiar voice called, making the two of them turn towards the voice to see Deepshower running towards them.

“Hyung—

“Haejin-ah! I missed you!” Deepshower ran towards Haejin for a hug. Haejin could see Jaebeom frowning deeply, eyeing Haejin to let him go but she could only raise her hands up since she didn’t attach her arms on his back.

“Don’t be jealous, Jaebeom. It’s a friendly hug. We used to do that.” Deepshower detached himself from her, turning towards Jaebeom with a smirk.

“Haejin-ah, Ii’m afraid I have steal him away from you since he is the guest.” added Deepshower, earning a nod as her answer.

“I’ll be nearby.” voiced out Haejin towards Jaebeom.

Though Jaebeom looked hesitant to leave her alone, he was being forced taken while his eyes were still on her.

Haejin could only wave at him while smiling at him, to reassure him that she will be fine. 

After seeing Deepshower dragging Jaebeom away, Haejin sighed as she looked around - knowing she was going to be bored.

Her eyes then traveled to the 2nd floor with a smile.

An area where she would usually hang out - back when she was working as a bouncer, knowing how she was going to spend the time.

Haejin looked towards the first floor, eyes wandering as she kept a look out for drunkards and for stranger people. Her eyes then traveled towards where Jaebeom is as he was busy having a great time, standing beside Deepshower and his crew as always.

Naturally, it made her smile.

“You look like a crazy person, smiling to yourself.”

Haejin frowns as she turns towards the familiar voice, to see Daisuke standing next to her.

He looked towards where she was gazing at, then turning to her.

“What are you doing here?” questioned Haejin as she was still frowning and she was already folding her arms.

“To keep an eye on you, of course.” answered Daisuke with a slight smirk, causing Haejin to scoff.

“I don’t need anyone’s eye. I can do my job alone.” answered Haejin as her eyes went back towards where Jaebeom is - Haejin’s body movement froze as soon as she met Jaebeom’s eyes.

It was as if he had been watching her, conversing with Daisuke.

“You heard MMG’s rules. Code M and The Bloody Roses will be working together.” said Daisuke and Haejin’s eyes turned towards Daisuke with a deep frown.

Yes, it was indeed MMG’s rules. 

There was a meeting where all the 3 units were being called and to summaries the meeting, Code M were being scheduled to accompany The Bloody Roses’ on their daily schedules.

Earning mixed reactions from The Bloody Roses’ members.

Mainly, Eunhee and Yeonji who weren’t too glad to hear the news.

“I know you’re together with the lover boy.” Daisuke gestured towards where Jaebeom is, causing Haejin to sigh.

“Glad that you know then, I hope you know that you should know your limits. You’re standing too close.” added Haejin as her gaze was lowered, trying not to make eye contact with him.

If Haejin could explain their relationship, Daisuke and Haejin were friends that had feelings for each other but knowing how Daisuke is, Haejin decided to let go of her feelings.

“You do know that I’m a change person right?” questioned Daisuke, feeling his eyes on her intensely. It was obvious to Haejin that the guy still had feelings for her.

“No, and I don’t intend to find out.” answered Haejin bluntly, her eyes still on the first floor.

There was a moment of silence, a stuffy one. In that moment, Haejin’s eyes moved towards where Jaebeom was to see that he wasn’t there - making Haejin to search for him.

“I’m gonna go and keep a lookout. Better do your job.” said Haejin as she was about to walk away from him when a hand grabbed her wrist.

Haejin turned towards Daisuke, finally meeting his eyes. There was a sense of longing and adoration in his eyes. It was the first time out of 2 years since he was always abroad.

“So it’s true that you have no feelings for me?” Daisuke questioned, his voice turned deep - knowing he was serious.

As Haejin was about to answer, she was being pulled by the back as her head landed on a hard chest - already guessing who it is, as she could smell his cologne.

Haejin looked up to meet his piercing gaze. 

His eyes then turned towards Daisuke, bowing to him as he wordlessly grabbed Haejin by her hand, walking away.

Somehow, Jaebeom dragged her to the back door of the club, and Haejin realised that Jaebeom was leading her towards her car.

“I’m driving.” said Jaebeom coldly, leaving Haejin as he went towards the driver’s seat.

With a sigh, Haejin sat on the passenger seat as she put on her seat belt. She thought that Jaebeom was going to drive but somehow he just sat there.

That’s when she realizes that Jaebeom is mad, she was stupid enough not to realize his iconic angry chin slowly appearing.

 And she was right, Jaebeom was upset - but it was more to being jealous.

Jaebeom didn’t know that he would feel this way as soon as he saw her with the guy who looked like he was going to steal Haejin away from him back there.

He had his eyes narrowed to the second floor, seeing how close the guy was standing next to her. 

Jaebeom could see that Haejin was uncomfortable - seeing how her eyes were fixed towards the first floor, not wanting to look at the guy’s eyes.

He got more triggered when the guy grabbed her wrist and Jaebeom had to excuse himself as he quickly ran towards the 2nd floor.

Accidentally hearing what the guy asked her, it was as if his words were adding more fuel to the fire to Jaebeom’s mood.

Jaebeom by then was mad - and he is still mad.

“Who is he?” asked Jaebeom as he tried to calm himself down and he thanked the Got7 members that they had helped with his temper.

It has gotten better as years passed.

“A friend.” Haejin muttered, knowing the mood was already destroyed - thanks to an old friend.

“Friends don’t stare at each other that way, Haejin.” answered Jaebeom, his voice was already obvious that he’s pissed.

“A friend and also a co-worker. He’s in the same agency as me.” explained Haejin as her gaze was towards the front.

“I heard what he said. Why did he ask that? Were you and him a thing?” 

Jaebeom faced Haejin - It’s not that he doesn’t trust her, Jaebeom was really curious about the guy. It looked like they have known each other for a long time.

“Well.... Almost a thing, but I decided to not... be with him.” answered Haejin softly, her gaze went downcast.

“Why not?”

“He’s a player - Maybe not, but he likes to flirt with girls.” 

Haejin turned towards Jaebeom, her gaze fell towards Jaebeom’s eyes. Somehow, Jaebeom’s heart started to pound nervously which amazes him.

Even when they are together, Jaebeom still feels shy or nervous whenever he had eye contact with her or when they do skinship.

“Don’t mind him. I love you anyway, so.. I only have you in my mind.” added Haejin with a smile, causing Jaebeom to finally sigh as if he was letting out his anger.

“I know, but it’s just the way he looks at you. It was as if he was trying to take you away from me.” muttered Jaebeom, looking towards Haejin with a slight frown.

“He won’t take me away from you, Beom-ah. I’ll always be with you - well not always, you get what I mean.” Haejin tilted her head slightly towards Jaebeom - not realizing that she showed him aegyo, causing Jaebeom to chuckle slightly.

Jaebeom leaned towards her, grabbing her arm slightly as she naturally leaned forward - and what made Haejin’s eyes turn wider is when Jaebeom’s lips locked with hers, feeling his hand landed on one of her cheeks for support.

With that, Haejin deepens the kiss and she could feel Jaebeom leaning towards her more - feeling Jaebeom’s tongue on her lips as if he wanted to enter her mouth and Haejin decided to allow the access of his tongue.

Haejin suddenly detached herself from him - her hands gripping onto his collar, causing him to be shocked.

He was almost in the mood.

“You know we can continue back at home right?” Haejin raised an eyebrow towards him, as he then realized that they were in public.

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours,” answered Haejin as Jaebeom was already buckling his seat belt and in 1 second, he had already started the engine of the car.

“Get ready then. I can’t wait to show you how much you meant to me,”

masterlist : Got7 Bodyguard Au

[socialyawkdude]

A intro to manga, anime and light novels

Hello again, long and first time readers..

Its time for the long-awaited manga review section. Now before we get into the nitty gritty there a few things we need to cover first. Seeing that I will be coving light novels, mangas, and anime there are a few terms that we need to go over. Most of these terms will be covering the different genres and subgenres. Seeing that not everyone is literate in this word, it may be a good idea to cover this before we get into the good stuff.

What I'm about to go over are the genres of light novels, manga, and anime. Like many television shows and movies; manga and anime are broken up into different genres. Many of these are pretty self-explanatory, while others are more unique, as you are about to find out. I have included a few examples with of the sub-genres. I'm no expert, as I’m learning along with a few of you. Some of the examples I've given are some that I've read or heard of.

 List of Major Anime/Manga Genres

Action

Adventure

Comedy

Drama

Slice of Life

Fantasy

Magic

Supernatural

Horror

Mystery

Psychological

Romance

Sci-Fi

 Looking at this list you can see many familiar genres of movies and TV, that you may watch. I won't go into a detailed description of these, because everyone should know these. Now for the sub-genres, it's a bit of a different story. Many of these are unique to anime and manga. It is these that I will give a little description along with a popular anime or manga.

 List of Anime Subgenres

Cyberpunk= This type of anime is a subgenre of sci-fi. It usually displays a future where society has become more ingrained with technology at the expense of social order. The setting is typically a dystopian future where the technology may be doing more harm than good. 

Game= The game category encompasses shows revolving around the idea of gaming and playing. The anime can feature a card game, board game, puzzle game, or even a virtual online game. As long as it concerns any playable game of any kind, it belongs in this category. Sometimes, even video game-based shows can count in this selection.

Ecchi= The word ecchi comes from the sound of H in the word hentai, which in turn means pervert in Japanese. This sub-genre is generally accepted as being full of sexually provocative scenes (mild enough to be viewed by the general audience) and scenarios derived from innuendos and humorous situations. It’s a fact that ecchi shows are taking an upswing nowadays as more and more titles are produced every season. More often than not, ecchi is paired up with comedy as both genres compliment each other well. This, in turn, serves as a buffer that prevents the shows from crossing the line and delving into something less appropriate for general audiences. 

Demons= Originally just an infrequent theme, the rise of demonic characters and themes have given rise to this sub-genre. The term demon does not only encompass literal demon characters. It also extends to other entities such as monsters, beasts, ghosts, and other demon-type figures. The demons present can come from biblical backgrounds or come from Japanese culture. Believe it or not, this category doesn’t just come hand-in-hand with the horror genre; it surprisingly blends well with other genres as well. 

Harem= If you see a reluctant male character surrounded by multiple female characters who all adore him, then you’re probably watching an anime of the harem sub-genre. This type of show typically features more than two female characters go head-over-heels for a single male character. Anime in this category is typically within the comedy and romance genre. It's possible that a harem anime can have no romance and feature mostly slapstick comedy.

Josei= Josei is actually a demographic but is also considered a general category in anime. It specifically targets female viewers around the age range of 18-40. These shows depict life and romance in a more mature light, usually with more grounded realism and less idealistic fantasies. The sub-genre is fairly wide and doesn't necessarily have to focus on romance. It merely needs a narrative that caters to the mature woman. Josei originated from manga during the 80′s. Girls who grew up reading shoujo stories from previous decades wanted stories for adults.

Martial Arts= Martial arts play a big role in every anime that has fighting/battles in it. Whether it's hand-to-hand combat, swordplay, gun fighting, or armed combat, there’s some kind of martial art element that plays through them. But did you know that there are shows that are primarily focused on martial arts itself and their battle techniques? There’s a lot of them, and they mainly involve hand-to-hand combat and technician battles.  

Kids= A lot of people say that anime is just for kids, but that’s not really true. As a matter of fact, there are only a few numbers of anime that are precisely catered towards children. These shows are contained within the kids' sub-genre. These shows are mild, light, and insightful, which makes them perfect for children 12 and under. 

Historical= As the name suggests, historical anime revolves around events in history and moments of antiquity. Shows of this sub-genre are typically set in Ancient Japan and the feudal period. Other settings such as the Middle Ages and medieval period of Europe exist but they’re much more rare in anime. As long as the time or setting (or even elements) are old and ancient, then the series can be considered a historical anime. 

Hentai= Hentai literally translates to "pervert" in Japanese. This is the R-18 (mature) domain of the anime world. This sub-genre commonly depicts nudity and highly explicit content. Unlike ecchi, the focus here is on explicit sexual content rather than on storytelling and narrative progression. That is why the shows in this category are usually brief and lacking in substance.

Isekai= Isekai translates to "another world." This sub-genre typically has a     narrative where a protagonist somehow gets transported to a different     world. The new world is more often than not in a fantasy setting,     occasionally with traits pulled from JRPG games.

This category of anime exploded during the 2010′s and arguably dominated the decade. A good portion of isekai anime is adapted not from the manga but rather from light novels. The most popular series in this sub-genre maybe Sword Art Online. While the world featured there was just virtual reality, it did feature a fantasy setting that would be mimicked in other anime. 

 Military= As the name implies, this sub-genre involves the military in one way or another. War may also be a huge part of military anime. One thing to note about this category is that it is often coupled with the mecha and action genre.

Mecha= Mecha stands for mechanical (as in mechanical units or robots). You’ll never see a mecha anime without a robot or mechanical suit in it. That’s the most important element of it. And while this sub-genre is rising in fame as the days go by, it almost always uses a standard formula to carry the plot. As a general trend, mecha is often seen alongside the military, sci-fi, and action genre.

This may very well be the most iconic anime sub-genre as there is a multitude of memorable shows in this category. The mecha can be considered to be one of Japan's most popular exports. Some of the earlier iconic titles from the late 70s and 80′s include Mobile Suit Gundam, Mazinger Z, and Super Dimension Fortress Macross. Neon Genesis Evangelion is considered to be an iconic and dark deconstruction of the genre as it examined the psyche of young pilots. GurrenLagann was a massive hit that brought the genre back to its hot-blooded and idealistic roots. With a rabid fan-base that loves mecha designs, this genre is one that has been consistently popular over the years. 

Music= Anime shows in the music sub-genre aren’t that popular nowadays, but they do exist and they are very timely. These shows typically focus on singing, dancing, or playing musical instruments. These usually fit within the larger categories of comedy and drama.

Parody= A parody anime is one where countless numbers of other anime references are showcased throughout the plot. It might be a popular running gag, a famous symbol, a character reference, or any other attempt at bringing another show into its domain. One anime worthy to note is Gintama. They often use similar elements from other anime to showcase in their own show.

Police= The police sub-genre emphasizes the life and struggles of law enforcement in their line of duty. Police-based characters have shown up in numerous shows and     there are now anime that could be considered as police procedural. This genre isn't exclusive to police officers; detectives, investigators, and enforcers of any type are included as well. 

Post-Apocalyptic= Post-apocalyptic anime basically show that is set in a world that is in a dystopian state. This could mean the world is destroyed and/or humans are nearly extinct. Post-apocalyptic settings were merely a theme in the past, but an influx of titles bearing this backdrop over the years have made it become a sub-genre on its own. This type of anime has become more and more popular by the day. 

Reverse Harem= A reverse harem anime is typically a harem series where the gender roles are switched around. There is one female character surrounded by multiple male characters who are all potential love interests. Like the traditional harem genre, anime of this variety is usually within the comedy and romance genre.

School= There are countless anime that use the school as a setting. An anime can be considered a part of the school sub-genre if a school is the primary setting and the anime deals mostly with school and student life. This type of anime is usually seen within the comedy genre, though there are some entries in drama as well. 

Seinen= Seinen is actually a demographic but is also considered to be a category in anime. It’s a sub-genre that specifically targets male viewers around the age range of 18-40. The shows here are depicted in a more mature light and often include more explicit content such as gore, sex, and violence. More cerebral narratives are present as well.

Shoujo= Shoujo refers to the demographic of young girls. This sub-genre specifically targets female viewers around the age range of 10-18. Most of the time, shoujo anime works hand-in-hand with the romance and comedy genre, particularly with the former. The protagonist is traditionally female and the narrative focuses on romance as well as personal growth. The world in these shows is often very idealized.

Shoujo-ai= Shoujo-ai literally translates to "girls love." The typically young female characters in shojou-ai anime show love and affection for each other. The romance is usually milder in comparison to the more explicit yuri genre. Shows in this category portray blooming feelings of love and romance rather than intimate relationships. 

Shounen= Shounen refers to the demographic that this type of anime targets, which is male viewers around the age range of 10-18. These shows are usually a combination of action and adventure and are typically adapted from serial manga series. As such, these anime tend to have lengthy runs. One Piece currently has over 800 episodes and is still running. These shows are typically the most popular with mainstream audiences. They have done very well when exported to foreign markets thanks to their relatively simple plots and focus on action.

Shounen-ai= Shounen-ai literally translates to "boys love." The male characters (typically younger boys) in these shows display tender affection for each other. The romance in shounen-ai is generally milder when compared to the more explicit yaoi genre. There is usually more focus on developing romance than actual relationships.

Space= The setting of space has always been massively popular. With so much anime taking place there, it has become a sub-genre in itself. Any anime set in the cosmos can be labeled in this category. Space anime is often within the larger mecha and sci-fi genre. 

Sports= Pretty much self-explanatory, sports anime are shows that cover characters engaging in athletic competition. Popular choices in this category include basketball, tennis, baseball, and soccer. Other sports exist as well (including those that you wouldn’t expect showing up in anime). As time goes on, more and more of these series are produced. Just like real sports, shows in this sub-genre are action-packed!

Super Power= You know you're watching a superpower anime if you're seeing an array of explosive superpowers scrambling right on the screen. If you see bursts of energy balls, death-defying attacks, and opposing forces battling it out throughout the story, then that means you're probably witnessing a show in this sub-genre. These shows generally fit in the action category.

Tragedy= As the name implies, the tragedy sub-genre revolves around tragic events or phenomenon where the characters are deeply involved and affected. Tragedy comes in diverse varieties such as disasters, accidents, misfortunes, and deaths. These shows are often very dramatic and can pull the heartstrings of audiences.

Vampire= As vampires have become so popular throughout the world, it’s no shock that they’ve also infested the world of anime. There are lots of titles now featuring vampires and they’re not just exclusive to the horror category. They’ve also manifested themselves into other categories such as comedy, romance, and drama.

Yuri= Yuri is essentially the more mature and explicit version of shojou-ai. The female characters are typically older and the series examines their more mature relationships.

Yaoi= Yaoi is the much more sexually explicit counterpart of shounen-ai. This sub-genre covers male-to-male relationships (typically older boys) in a more mature light. There is more emphasis on serious relationships and intimacy.

 Well, there you go… a not so short overview of the genre and sub-genres of anime, manga, and light novels. Hopefully, this will help newcomers to this wonderful of books and tv. It is now time to reveal the first series in the socallyawkdude’s manga review….. Tales of Wedding Rings by Maybe.  The volume 1 review should be up soon, as i’m finishing up the art work for the post.

Till then this is your friendly neighborhood sociallyawkdude signing off.