#I played as a half shapeshifter that just lived his life and sometimes talked to the powerful wizard that liked to walk through the woods

[why-does-this-happen-to-me]

I feel like the closest things to tumblr mutuals I've ever had was when I was in an Amino roleplay community and I was in a chat with some people and we just interacted with each other's characters. There wasn't a defined lore or anything, but it was pretty fun. From time to time someone else joined the chat and their story would imply the existance of a new country or something, but we just acted like it had always been there.

Anyway, we interacted a lot but obviously knew basically nothing about each other outside of the app, so I guess that's why my brain finds both things similar.

[asavt]

I wanna share more of the squad™ (Madeleine-Espresso-Latte-Almond-Roguefort with the addition of Creampuff and Walnut too) headcanons because.

-First of all, I gotta say that when I draw them I'll most likely start my music play with either "What's going on?" or "Life goes on" both from the P5 ost, idk, settles a good mood for them. (like right now, as I write this the latter is playing)

-As said before, none of Madeleine, Espresso nor Almond (nor the girls) know that Roguefort is Phantom Bleu, Madeleine and Espresso both see something suspicious about them, and Almond and Walnut, with who Roguefort spends the most time with, might or might not have seen a few similarities between the two, but the idea has never crossed their minds.

The only one that knows, as also said before, is Latte. Although she was a little wary of it at the beginning, is this what made her and Rogue good friends, she is the only one that knows (for now) after all. Roguefort is someone that can trusted it seems.

-As an addition to that, is not uncommon for Roguefort to come into Latte's atelier as Phantom bleu at night if they see she is still awake (is weird to happen, but sometimes it does). In those nights those two just talk, Latte asking about how the place where they all live in is like at night. And sometimes Roguefort might use their shapeshifting abilities to try and copy their friends and do bad impressions of them, both them and Latte laughing a lot afterwards.

-I do headcanon Walnut and Creampuff to be really good friends. For some reason the idea of Walnut asking Creampuff to be her crime-solving-partner when they grow up is cute to me...

-They all share a collective braincell, is Espresso, but it doesn't always works at it's fullest so they are all still idiots.

-Going back to Latte and Roguefort because their friendship is something I love. Latte once, early on when she had just found out about the secret, if they were keeping up an act to take advantage of the other. This Roguefort answered that ''that wouldn't be a fair game now, would it?''. Whatever Roguefort finds about the others that can be deemed as a weakness they don't use it against the others (useless is some kind of urgent scenario where they need one of the others to do something, but they try to avoid that at best). This is what proved to Latte that they can be trusted, as they also shapeshift into any of the others way less (especially espresso, they know they would be killed on sight if they do).

-More with Latte, from what it says in the game I think she helped Espresso in the development of coffee magic, so both have known each other for a long time. People often confuse them as siblings, truth is, they are not, they just act that way. Espresso may say that Latte is a bother, but he really appreciates his friendship with her, as well as he thinks of her as a great mage too.

-Espresso got to meet Creampuff in one of the meetings, before him and Madeleine started to date and before the group got to meet Roguefort. She seemed a little intimidated by him at the beginning, and Espresso had thought some of her movements at the moment to cast spells a bit clumsy, but he still saw some promising future in the young mage. Creampuff eventually started to stop begin intimidated by the coffee mage, she respects him greatly, and she warmed up a bit more after Madeleine was brought one afternoon when she was visiting Latte and Espresso and Madeleine came by.

-Madeleine tends to shower the young girls with gifts when he can (either small things like candy, something one or both of them might have said they wanted, or just take them to a shopping trip). Well, he tends to give gifts to every single one of the group if he has the chance (which is pretty often tbh). Each one of them must have at last ten gifts from him, if not more.

-The group was pretty surprised when once Almond brought with him not only Walnut, who wanted to meet with Creampuff in the atelier to then go walk around, but also Roguefort. It was a few weeks after a pretty bad night after work, the detective had been close to collapsing on the ground on his way home when Roguefort, who had been off work, saw him, approached and offered help, something the detective first rejected but had to accept as he almost tripped and fell face first. The thief was well aware of how tired Almond was half the time he saw him (it wasn't as much as they saw Walnut in the middle of a chase of crime scene, they mostly had seen him when they weren't dressing up in their cape and top hat), and they were also well aware of the danger it was to engage with the detective when in their normal self, but begin honest they were worried of Almond's well begin. The two of them started to see each other more after that small encounter, mostly because Roguefort decided to stop avoiding Almond when they were off work.

-Once, Almond arrived really really late at the meeting, Roguefort behind him saying "he got caught up in various cases today", and the detective looked absolutely exhausted. Just as he sat down his cellphone started to sound with an entering call. Roguefort frowned, Latte sighed, Espresso and Madeleine exchanged looks and just as Almond was about to answer Madeleine snatched his phone and answered the call with "Hello, this is Sir Madeleine Cookie of house Madeleine, Detective Almond was requested to help both me and the renowned coffee mage Espresso Cookie with an issue we have at the borders of the city, so, may I ask for you to not call useless there's a problem as big as a dragon attacking the place, thank you and good evening" and hung. Latte and Roguefort were laughing hard, Espresso was chuckling and Almond was looking at Madeleine in complete disbelief.

"You did not just did that"

"I did, and hey, I got you a day off, enjoy it"

[bbangsoonie]

creker academy

member: eric genre: fluff (ft some angst), fantasy au word count: 6,182 synopsis: after finally triggering your hidden powers, fate lands you at creker academy, a special boarding school meant for shapeshifters. there, you learn how to control your abilities and that opposites do indeed attract.

The day you found out that you were adopted was the day your life fell apart. The secret was hidden from you until your uncle coldly drew the line at your parents’ funeral. He told you that he had no intention of taking responsibility for his brother’s actions and that you were no longer a part of the family.

That was how you ended up living alone in a tiny half-basement studio. You barely managed to afford the deposit and rent with the consolation money you received from the funeral.

Every day, Hyunjoon would come knocking at your door and every day, you would turn him away. It had only been a month since you became independent and the scar of losing your parents was still fresh. You were also too ashamed to face your friends. You didn’t want their pity and so you hid away in isolation.

On the night of your birthday, the pain became too unbearable. Although you aged another year, you were still only a teenager. Granted, you were in your last year of high school but you were still a minor. Having to fend for yourself in this harsh world was too much for you to handle.

As you cried yourself to sleep, you could feel a cold coming. The heat from your headache spread to the rest of your body and you felt yourself burning up.

After you bought some medicine from the pharmacy, you slipped into a deep slumber. Your dreams were wildly vivid. You dreamt of an enchanted forest that enticed you to take refuge in its comfort. There, animals of all species ran free and in harmony. It promised you acceptance and a home.

“It’s time you learn of your identity,” a soft voice spoke.

As soon as the whisper tickled your ears, the entire forest was up in flames. Strangely, you weren’t struck with fear. Rather, you felt empowered.

“Y/n, you need to learn how to control yourself,” the voice warned.

It was only then that you started to panic. The flames were engulfing everything in sight and all the animals were running for their lives.

“Y/n, you have to wake up. Now,” the voice commanded.

With that, your eyes shot open. To your horror, the scene in your dreams reflected the view in front of you. Your house was on fire and you were slowly getting cornered by the heat. Frightened, you look to the door only to see it consumed by the blaze.

“Trust your instincts, Y/n,” the voice in your head cooed. “Let your body take control.”

Bewildered, you had no idea what that meant. All you knew was that you had to get out of there. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to think of a solution. When you reopened them, the room seemed to be a lot bigger than normal. At that moment, you saw the window cracked open. It was your only hope.

Your body felt different when you stood up.

“Why am I so short all of a sudden?” you wondered.

You looked down and almost screamed when you saw paws instead of your feet. Except a meow came out of your throat instead.

You didn’t have time to freak out about it. Feeling something hot graze your tail, you jumped up and landed on the window sill. Your innate desire for survival kicked in and you squeezed through the opening to escape.

Once you felt fresh air in your lungs again, you ran. And ran. And ran. You didn’t know why or where you were going, but something in you told you to run. Your legs kept sprinting until they reached the forest that appeared in your dream. They came to a slow stop when you realized where you were.

“What is this place?” you pondered.

“This is the border between our world and the human world,” a woman in white suddenly emerged from the trees. “You are now about to cross into our territory.”

It was the same voice from your dream. Trying to grasp the situation, you opened your mouth to ask a million questions. But again, a meow replaced your voice.

“It’ll be easier for you to transition back once you're on our grounds,” she assured. She bent down and gestured for you to jump into her arms.

Not seeing any other option, you hesitantly took her offer. With you safely in her embrace, she passed through a translucent wall that revealed what looked like a huge campus. Your jaw dropped as you observed your surroundings. There were students walking around the magical place. You saw a girl tending the garden and gasped when her hands hovered above the flowers to revive them.

The woman brought you to an office you presumed to be hers and placed you in front of a mirror. Your shriek came out as a cute yelp and she chuckled.

“I-I’m a cat!” you thought.

“There’s an outfit you can change into once you return to your human form,” she pointed at the black dress neatly prepared on the table.

The second she finished her sentence, you felt a bare sensation. Looking down, you screeched at your naked body. Embarrassed and horrified, you quickly clothed yourself with the dress.

“W-What’s going on?” you asked, relieved to finally hear your own voice again.

“I’m sure you felt different from others your whole life?” she asked. It sounded more like a statement rather than a question.

She wasn’t wrong. All your life, you never felt like you fitted in anywhere. Maybe your body knew you were adopted before your mind did and ostracized itself. Or maybe you truly were different. You had weird talents that other kids thought were freaky, making you hide them and become introverted. For instance, you were suspiciously good at starting fires from scratch at summer camp and didn’t feel any pain when your shirt accidentally caught on fire.

“I know this must be shocking to you but you’re special, Y/n. We’ve been waiting for you. Waiting for you to trigger your powers to bring you here,” she smiled.

“My what?” you gaped.

“Your powers. What you just did back at your old house and right now. You’re a shapeshifter, Y/n. A shapeshifter with the element of fire,” she explained.

“I’m a what now?” you scoffed in disbelief.

“Creker Academy is a school and home for students just like you. It’s a place meant to train you how to control your powers. Without our guidance, you’ll lead down a path of self-destruction.”

Baffled by her words, you stared in silence. There was no way any of this was true. Surely this had to be a dream.

“This isn’t a prank or a dream, Y/n. You’ve finally found where you belong,” she clarified.

Belong. You had never felt like you really belonged anywhere. But now, someone was telling you that you belonged with them. That they wanted you there. That they had been waiting for you.

“I understand you must feel overwhelmed. But there are procedures to follow so I’m afraid you will have to begin your tour first. A fellow student will be arriving soon to show you around.”

As if on cue, a boy around your age knocked on the door and came in after receiving the woman’s permission to enter.

“Hello, Headmaster,” he bowed.

“Eric, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Eric. He will be helping you adjust here,” she introduced.

Eric was bright eyed and eager to meet a new friend. You, on the other hand, were quite reserved and uncomfortable in your new environment.

He was excitedly pointing out the purpose of each room you passed by and rambled on about the social norms of the boarding school. You learned that on top of academics, there were classes on virtues and physical training. And of course, classes that taught you how to properly use and contain your powers.

The use of magic was strictly prohibited inside any and all buildings. Students could practice their skills outside but were forbidden from any acts that could potentially put someone or something at risk. That was the one rule that was rigidly enforced and obeyed.

“So what animal and element are you?” he curiously pried. “I’m a dog with the element of water.”

“I’m… apparently a cat,” you felt ridiculous saying it aloud. “And control fire.”

“Ah, you’re a member of the fire element,” he nodded. “What that means is that your element rivals with mine. Some people see fire elements as hotheaded, impulsive, and extreme. Water elements are sometimes emotional, sensitive, and antisocial. But those are all just stereotypes, of course. Not everyone fits into the standard. I, for one, am very outgoing. And your animal obviously plays a role in your personality. I guess the dog in me overpowers the water.”

You had moved on from the indoor portion of the tour to the outside part. He was showing you the garden you had passed by earlier. It was full of flowers that wouldn’t be in bloom this season in the normal world.

“I’m a strong believer in that there are good traits about each element. For example, fire elements are passionate, inspirational, and expressive. They’re arguably the most fun people you’ll ever meet. Water elements are empathetic, imaginative, and loving. But again, all this is relative and doesn’t accurately describe each person,” he reminded. “The only reason there’s still a stupid feud is because some people love sticking to the status quo and labeling others.”

“What are the other elements? Air and earth?”

“Yup! Air elements are independent, talkative, fickle, and nonconformists. Most likely social butterflies. Earth elements are disciplined, loyal, organized, and judgemental. Oftentimes the leader.”

Eric greeted a male student who was passing by with two other boys. He exchanged smiles with the three of them who offered you a kind nod of acknowledgement.

“That was Sangyeon. He’s a bear. On his left is Jacob, a rabbit. The one on the right is Younghoon, who’s also a dog like me. They’re all earth elements,” he disclosed. “Sangyeon is the class representative of our grade. Definitely fits the leader stereotype.”

You couldn’t get over how thrilled he was to be your tour guide. He was filling you in on even the little details of the social life at the academy. He told you about how transfer students were rare and that it was his first time seeing a new student.

His vibrancy contrasted your somber aura. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. He was having too much fun getting to know you.

“Oh! That’s Hyunjae and Juyeon,” Eric suddenly pointed at a pair of boys on a morning run. He waved at the two who waved back before speeding up.

“The one with brown hair is Hyunjae, a wolf and fire element. His real name is Jaehyun but he changed it to Hyunjae once he got to Creker Academy. Juyeon’s the one with black hair and is a cat like you. Except he’s a water element like me,” he grinned. “They’re my best friends. Oh, and this guy named Sunwoo who’s a raccoon with the element of fire. As you can see, water and fire elements can get along fine and well. So don’t listen to anyone who says otherwise.”

By the time he was done showing you around, a bell rang and students began to convene inside. Eric explained that the bell was signaling the beginning of classes and brought you to his homeroom.

“Breakfast is buffet style and self served. It’s up to you to wake up and come down to eat. The cafeteria remains open for an hour until that bell rings and we have to get to class,” he said you entered.

Looking around for an empty seat, his face lit up when he spotted one. He sat at his desk and tapped on the one behind him to let you know that it was yours to take.

You still hadn’t processed all that’s happened since dawn. Everything felt like a haze. Nevertheless, you found yourself paying attention when the teacher walked in. He scanned the room to find a new face and smiled when he made eye contact with you.

“Alright, guys. I’m happy to announce that we have a new student that will be joining us starting today,” he beckoned for you to come up to the front of the classroom.

You wanted to shrivel up and crawl into a hole. Feeling your classmates gazes on you, you gulped and began to sweat. You were never a fan of attention. You quickly introduced yourself before rushing back to your seat, eliciting giggles from a few students. Your cheeks heated up and you felt that burning tingle again.

The awkwardness made you transform back into a cat, making your classmates gasp. Their intensified stares made the tips of your fur ignite, alarming the teacher who tried to calm you down.

“Well I guess she’s a fire cat,” a girl snickered.

Eric shot her a glare before leaning in to ask if you wanted him to put the fire out with his water. Not knowing what else to do, you nodded and the next thing you knew, you were drenched.

So much for your first day.

You ran out of the room before you could change back into a human. You fled but didn’t know where to go. You grew anxious, desperately hoping you wouldn’t end up flashing anyone.

“Hey!” someone called out. You turned around to see a male approaching you. Panicking, you dove into a bush.

“You’re the newbie, right?” he asked, taking something out of his bag. He dug out a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts and placed them in front of you. “I usually carry around a spare outfit in case of emergencies. I hope you don’t mind the fit.”

You were still in your animal form so you peaked your head out to look at him.

“My name’s Chanhee. Air element penguin,” he squatted down to meet your eyes. “Everyone’s first day is rough. You’re not the only one who’s had incidents like this so try not to feel so bad about it.”

He stood to go back to class, leaving you to change in privacy once you returned to your normal body. Your hair was still wet as you dragged yourself back to the headmaster’s office.

The headmaster looked at you with pity when you walked in looking worn out. You didn’t have to tell her for her to know what happened.

“How about I show you to your dorm?” she warmly suggested. Anything was better than returning to the classroom.

Due to your late enrollment, you were assigned a single room as opposed to the traditional double rooms. You were glad you didn’t have to go through the process of meeting and getting used to a roommate. It was a small but cozy space and the closet was filled with clothes.

You realized all of your belongings were probably burned down in your old home. Now you really didn’t have anything to go back to.

Before the headmaster left to allow you to settle in, she insisted that you join your classmates for lunch later. You wanted to say that you just wanted to stay in your room but her stern look had you close your mouth.

So you begrudgingly made your way to the cafeteria and gawked at the amount of students packed inside. Feeling them stare at you, you tried to ignore their whispers as you grabbed a tray of food. To your relief, you saw Eric motioning you over and went to go sit down next to him.

His group of friends was fairly large. You saw the boys he had named earlier that day and were surprised to see Chanhee again.

“Hi! I’m Changmin,” one enthusiastically waved. “I’m an air squirrel.”

“Haknyeon, air pig,” another raised his hand.

“My animal is a hamster and my element is water. You can call me Kevin,” the last one smiled.

After shyly exchanging greetings with everyone, you poked at the rice on your plate. The food was undeniably better than the food served at your old school. However, thinking about your old school made your stomach drop as you thought of the friends you left behind. You were sure Hyunjoon was worried sick about you.

“Do you hate water? And have you always hated water? I would assume you don’t like it very much as a cat and fire element,” Changmin looked at you with sparkling eyes that displayed his curiosity.

“Yeah I actually never learned how to swim. I guess that explains why. I never had a reason when my friends asked me about it,” you mused. In hindsight, your unreasonable hatred and fear of water made sense.

“Interesting, interesting,” he nodded.

Like that, the next couple of months flew by. You were put on an intensive program to catch up with your peers and received one-on-one tutoring to help you learn how to shapeshift at will. You could now easily turn into a cat but still had trouble returning to your human form.

To your dismay, you were denied communication with the outside world. The headmaster was very much against risking having the academy and everyone’s identities exposed. Which meant that you weren’t allowed to contact anyone from your previous life.

One good thing was that you were no longer the hot topic of the school. People’s interest in you died down when you didn’t reciprocate theirs.

You grew close to Eric and his group of friends. They were an interesting bunch. Each of them were uniquely chaotic.

Eric was the exact opposite of you. Literally. As a water element dog, his personality contrasted your fiery cat. Everything from your food tastes to fashion style were different. Yet, you felt the most comfortable with him. He brought light into your life and made adjusting to your new school easier.

You were also always at odds with Juyeon. Although you were both cats, he was everything you weren’t. He was sweet but you just didn’t match on so many things. This meant for a very awkward but pleasant friendship.

You got along best with Chanhee. His air side complemented your fire and he quickly became your closest friend. He was both sassy and caring and you appreciated his endless concern and support for you.

Changmin was a wild card. He and Sunwoo wrecked havoc everywhere they went as Younghoon and Haknyeon incited them while Kevin and Jacob were trying their best to prevent them from destroying the campus. Sangyeon and Hyunjae, who were usually busy with student council matters, were the only ones who could calm everyone down but sometimes chose to enjoy the mayhem.

“Did you guys hear the rumors?” Sunwoo bursted through the classroom door panting. “The headmaster is considering an overnight field trip for the seniors!”

Jaws dropped and gasps spread throughout the students. The room was immediately in a buzz as everyone was shocked and excited at the possibility of leaving the sealed territory. It had been 5 years since students were allowed a trip in the outside world.

The homeroom teacher came in and hushed everyone to quiet down. He couldn’t hide the smile that forced its way onto his face after seeing how happy his students looked.

“Is it true we might get a senior trip?” Haknyeon impatiently asked.

“I cannot comment on that. An official announcement will be made later today,” the teacher said.

“That’s not a no!” Younghoon squealed.

True to his words, the headmaster’s voice was heard over the PA system before the dismissal bell. She congratulated the seniors on their hard work and announced that they would be given the opportunity to sign up to spend 3 days and 2 nights on a cruise.

The entire floor of students erupted into cheers and you heard footsteps run across as they barged into classrooms to find their friends and rejoice together. Changmin came into your classroom dragging Kevin and Juyeon behind him.

“Guys, I can’t believe it! It’s been forever since I last saw humans,” Changmin gushed.

“The whole point of us going on a private boat is to ensure that we don’t have any run-ins with humans,” Kevin reminded.

“Yeah but I’m sure we’d pass by them on our way there,” Changmin rolled his eyes.

Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Jacob strolled in, greeting your group of friends with a nod of acknowledgment. They waited as the rest of you gathered your stuff to leave together.

“Everyone’s going, right? Y/n, you too?” Eric asked.

“Umm,” you hesitated as you looked at their expectant eyes. “I honestly don’t know if it’d be a good idea… I’m still not in complete control over my powers.”

“Aw but Y/n! You can’t miss out on this once in a lifetime trip with all of us!” Sunwoo whined.

“Yeah, it’ll be your last time leaving campus before graduating! Plus, it’ll be your first and last major bonding experience with our class,” Younghoon pouted.

“I know how hard fire can be to control. If you want, I can stay with you and try to help you detect signs of distress before it manifests itself,” Hyunjae offered.

“And I‘ll be next to you to put out any accidents!” Eric beamed.

“You know I always have extra clothes in my bag,” Chanhee added.

You couldn’t say no to the 11 pairs of pleading eyes. They all so desperately wanted you to go with them that it warmed your heart. It hadn’t even been long since you first met them but they always treated you like you were with them from the start.

So you added your name to the list of students and that was how you ended up dragging your suitcase to the giant cruise ship. Haknyeon was bouncing in excitement next to you as the throng of high schoolers slowly made their way inside.

Room assignments were the same as back at the academy, which meant that you were in a single by yourself again. Changmin expressed his envy as Chanhee happily pulled him into their shared room.

Once you were unpacked, you headed to the deck and admired the seascape. The ship was already sailing into the vast ocean and the endless horizon felt so freeing. Leaning on the handrails, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The salty smell brought back memories of visiting the beach with your parents.

You felt someone join you but didn’t open your eyes. You could tell by their footsteps that it was Eric.

“Enjoying the change in environment?” he asked.

“Makes me a bit nostalgic,” you said as you opened your eyes.

The wind was strong and the waves were violently crashing into the sides of the boat. With the sun glistening in the water’s reflection, you squinted a bit to appreciate the scenery in front of you.

“Isn’t the view so pretty?” you sighed in content. You didn’t notice that he wasn’t looking at the sea. Instead, he was staring at you.

“Yeah. Extremely pretty,” he found himself saying with a soft smile.

To Eric’s slight annoyance, Sunwoo came and tactlessly interrupted the moment to tell you two to meet everyone else at the pool. He was raving about the jacuzzi next to it and eagerly tugged at Eric’s sleeve to hurry him up.

Younghoon was already shoving Hyunjae’s head underwater when you arrived. Jacob waved at you from the chaise lounge and you sat down next to him. Giggling, you watched Sangyeon climb on top of both of them as Juyeon egged him on. Changmin and Chanhee were relaxing in the jacuzzi while Kevin and Haknyeon were piling food on their plates at the snack bar.

Eric was thrown into the pool thanks to Sunwoo’s push and he emerged to the surface screaming and laughing. Using his powers to add more pressure, he splashed Sunwoo with water, who ran off shrieking.

“Do you not like the water as well?” you turned around to face Jacob.

“I don’t necessarily dislike it but I don’t really like it either,” he shrugged. “I don’t mind jumping in if the guys tell me to join.”

“Do you hate the water or are you afraid of it?” Haknyeon asked as he and Kevin took a seat next to you.

“I guess both?” you answered.

“You know, contrary to popular belief, I’m actually not that fond of large bodies of water either,” Kevin said as he offered Jacob a bite of his pizza. “Pretty weird for a water element, huh?”

“Hey, hey, we don’t stick to stereotypes. We are all individuals with personalities and preferences unique to our own character,” Jacob chided.

“Oh how I love confirmation biases,” Haknyeon joked.

You had to admit it was pretty interesting to see how each person matched and defied their element and animal characteristics. It was like taking a personality test and fervently agreeing with the parts that were true and blatantly ignoring the parts that weren’t.

The rest of the day was spent fooling around and playing games. There was never a dull moment with the boys. They were always in high spirits and full of energy.

Even at dinner, your table was the loudest one. Juyeon had been sneakily stealing a few bites of fish off of Haknyeon’s plate, who took great offense when he finally noticed. Meanwhile, Eric was bargaining with Younghoon for his chicken. At the mention of chicken, Hyunjae joined in on the negotiation of the last piece of meat.

So far, you haven't had a risky moment with either your element or animal. You were in complete control and didn’t need guidance—although Chanhee remained by your side just in case. When you made it back to your room to call it a night, you were relieved and proud that the trip was going smoothly without any hiccups.

Perhaps you spoke too early.

In one of the rooms down the hall, a girls’ night had turned awry. One of the girls, a water element, began crying and started a waterflow that got out of hand. The more she panicked and tried to stop it, the higher the water rose. It quickly seeped into the hallway and into other rooms.

With her friends screaming at her to make it stop, it only escalated with a loud whoosh as the door broke open from the pressure. Now in full panic mode, the girls shrieked and realized that the place was flooding from the inside out.

They trudged through the rising water to flee, banging on doors on their way out. Doors swung open as students woke up from the commotion.

By the time Juyeon finally managed to wake Eric up from his deep sleep, the water was nearly up to the bed. The roommates freaked out, wondering what the heck was going on. Juyeon quickly grabbed his bag and hurried Eric to leave.

On their way out, however, they saw that your door was still closed.

“Shit, Y/n can’t swim,” Eric gasped.

“The water’s not that deep yet. Let’s get her out while it’s still walkable,” Juyeon said as he threw his bag down and started walking towards your room.

Meanwhile, you were still sound asleep. You were startled awake by the pounding. When you registered the situation, the fear made you shift into a cat before you could get up and unlock the door. You anxiously glanced at the closed door as the water began to climb up your body.

Outside, Eric felt a pit form in his stomach. Getting worried, he decided to break your door open. With the help of Juyeon, he barely slammed the heavy wood down by mustering up all the strength he had.

“Y/n!” he yelled when he finally saw you.

You were struggling to keep your head above the water and it was getting harder by the second to not breathe in the liquid. He rushed to pick you up and kept you afloat even when he stumbled. The waves were now reaching his chest.

Juyeon transformed into his cat form to swim as Eric trekked through the hall. You were clinging onto him and Eric was holding onto you tightly as well. You could feel him pant and his heart beat fast. Tucked under his arm, you looked up to see beads of sweat falling from his forehead.

Your own heart skipped a beat at the sight. You could tell how much he cared for you. He made you feel wanted. Needed. Important.

You two were polar opposites but still complemented each other so well. He was the optimism you lacked and you were his rock. You kept him grounded and he made you laugh.

When you finally escaped to the deck, Juyeon stepped away to change back into a human and put on clothes. Your friends crowded around you, Younghoon drying you off with a towel and Chanhee placing a clean outfit next to you.

“Alright, everyone, settle down,” the headmaster called out, turning heads. “I’m glad you’re all safely out but it’ll take some time to drain the water. Please calmly stay in groups until we sort everything out.”

Thanks to your months of training, you were now able to sense when your transformation was about to occur. You grabbed the clothes with your mouth and ran off before you could flash anyone. You sheepishly returned wearing one of Chanhee’s pajama shirts and with water still dripping from your hair.

“Y/n!” Sunwoo dramatically whined, jumping you for a hug. Displeased, Eric peeled him off of you and handed you another towel.

“Thanks, Eric,” you smiled. “For… everything.”

“No problem,” he grinned as he ruffled your head.

“Thank God these two got you out safe and sound,” Sangyeon sighed in relief. You apologized for worrying everyone, to which Hyunjae insisted that you had no reason to feel sorry.

Luckily, the next day was not as eventful. A dinner party was prepared for the last night on the cruise and you got to dress up and have fun. You enjoyed a relaxing time in the ballroom with music playing from the speakers and the boys embarrassing themselves on the dance floor.

You giggled as you watched Changmin ask his crush for a dance after Chanhee quite literally pushed his friend to approach her. It was sweet to see both of them all shy in each other’s arms.

Juyeon nudged Eric and nodded in your direction to ask if he was going to ask you to dance as well. When Eric pretended not to know what he was talking about, Sunwoo joined in to tease him.

“Come on, bro. We all know you like her. Just hurry up and make a move already,” Sunwoo snickered.

“Ooh are we talking about Y/n?” Hyunjae came after eavesdropping.

“I hate you guys,” Eric rolled his eyes as he tried to hide his blush.

Learning from Chanhee, Sunwoo shoved his best friend towards you and fled after he bumped into you. Shooting him a glare, Eric silently swore at him with his eyes. He cringed before turning around to face you.

He felt his breath being stolen away when his eyes met yours. You were absolutely stunning. The glimmer of the chandelier shining on your enhanced your features and he found himself lost in your orbs.

From a few tables away, Kevin and Jacob had joined the other three guys to fanboy over the interaction. Juyeon whispered “he’s totally whipped” to Sunwoo who failed to hold back his laughter. Eric, however, didn’t even notice. He was too busy gaping at you.

“Uhh is there something on my face?” you asked, bringing your palm to your cheek. You were slightly self conscious at his intense staring.

“Beauty,” he blurted. Trying to play it cool, he acted confident and ignored the burst of laughter from his friends. You felt your face heat up at his comment and awkwardly coughed as you looked away.

“Y-You look great too,” you stuttered.

On his way to pour himself some more punch, Chanhee loudly told you to just dance with Eric. He passed by and continued to walk towards the drinks without a care as to how flustered he left you two. Your friends were practically doubling over in laughter at this point.

So Eric boldly held your hand and gently guided you to the dance floor. Feeling your body heat up, he applied his cooling powers on you to prevent you from igniting flames.

“I guess we could say there’s a spark between us,” he joked.

The rest of the night flew by in a blur. You hadn’t felt so carefree in so long. For the first time in a while, you weren’t hung up on the past or worried about the future. You simply appreciated the moment as you were living it.

You never expected things to turn out the way it did. With the death of your parents, you lost a lot of things. But your new friends made you feel complete again. They healed you in ways you couldn’t have imagined.

The revelation of your true identity also brought you peace. You no longer felt like the odd one out. Your own powers didn’t scare you and you felt safe learning about them at the boarding school.

However, you began to doubt all of that the second you docked back on land. You were chatting with Eric about his favorite ramen brand when an all-too-familiar voice made you freeze.

“Y/n..?” he carefully called out. He slowly came up to see if it really was you and gasped when he saw that it was.

Eric didn’t know why he suddenly felt uneasy. Maybe it was because an unknown male had made a reappearance in your life or maybe it was because he recognized the way he was looking at you. It was the same way he looked at you as well.

Chanhee, now protective and defensive, slightly pushed you to the back to ask who he was.

“It’s okay, Chanhee. He’s my friend,” you assured, stepping forward.

Juyeon scowled, not liking that you were interacting with people from the human world. It was borderline going against the rules.

“Hey, Hyunjoon. Long time no see,” you timidly greeted.

“Are you kidding me? You disappeared after a fire burned down your house and that’s all you have to say to me?” Hyunjoon fumed.

You winced at the pain evident in his voice. It had hurt you to ignore your best friend and there hadn’t been a day where you didn’t miss him. Guilt-ridden, you were unable to meet his eyes. He took you by surprise by pulling you in for a hug.

“We thought of the worst, Y/n,” he murmured. “I forgive you for going M.I.A. on me. It’s okay. Everything’s fine as long as you’re here.”

You choked back tears but couldn’t stop one from falling down your cheek. You heard the headmaster gathering the students to get on the bus back home and knew that you didn’t have much time before you had to leave him again. Sangyeon patted you on the shoulder and ran ahead to ask the headmaster for leniency.

“I-I have to go soon,” you stammered as you broke away from his embrace.

“Go where? You’re not coming back home?” Hyunjoon asked.

“I… have a new home now,” you gulped. “I can’t tell you where and I can’t promise that I’ll be able to see you again. But I’ve missed you. I still do.”

“Are you safe?” he whispered after staying silent for a bit. “Are you happy?”

You took a glimpse of your group of friends that was unconvincingly pretending to not listen to the conversation. It almost made you chuckle despite the situation.

“Yeah,” you trailed off. “I’m doing well, Hyunjoon. And I hope the same for you. I’m sorry.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” he forced a smile as he hugged you one last time. “Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Hyunjoon.”

It pained you to see him watch you walk away. Your heart broke with each step you took. On the ride back to the forest, you stared out the window. Eric, sitting next to you, softly squeezed your hand to offer you some comfort.

“I made the right choice, right?” you asked, leaning on his shoulder.

“Do you regret it?” he cautiously asked.

You thought about it. You definitely missed Hyunjoon and all of your other old friends. You also definitely felt bad that you left them behind without a word and still couldn’t provide an explanation. But at the same time, you’ve grown to love your new school and new friends. You no longer had to be on edge without even knowing the reason why. Creker Academy made you feel confident. The boys made you feel accepted. Eric made you feel loved.

“No,” you answered with certainty. “Not at all.”

a/n: for the eric to my sunwoo, @sohnhorizon​

[yolkyeomie]

Humanity of the Inhuman | Kim Sunwoo

summary — legends are meant for the wild fantasies of the dream world, but when one myth suddenly comes true, you find yourself tangled within its webs of reality.

word count — 4.8k words

pairing — sunwoo x female!reader (ft. x juyeon)

genre — college au, gumiho au

disclaimer — !! light mentions of death, blood, and injury !! this was supposed to be only three parts but because I’m tired I have to put the rest into a part 4 🙂☝🏽

part I | part II | part III | part IV?

I.

It’s been a week since you last saw Sunwoo in your house, and don’t worry it’s for a good reason. The gumiho didn’t just up and leave all of a sudden, he was a little too true to his word when it came to the nine tailed fox honor code.

He was simply doing what he set out to do in the first place: prove that Juyeon was a gumiho out to get you. Though seeing as it’s taken a week so far, there wasn’t a lot of information he was gathering.

It would get a little odd when you would walk into the mythology class the two of you shared and there was Sunwoo sitting in the very back. He wasn’t as close to the point where it would be suspicious but it was close enough to keep an eye on Juyeon. The awkward part was that sometimes you’d feel like the gumiho’s eyes were burning into the back of your head as well.

And yet despite his hard stare, Juyeon didn’t seem to notice at all. The first two days of Sunwoo spying on the two of you was uncomfortable but thanks to the boy’s kind nature, it was as if the gumiho’s presence disappeared completely.

You didn’t even hear the fox bead most of the time and that was your sure fire way of figuring out whether he was truly there or not.

“You wanna be partners?” Juyeon asked, closing the notebook in his hands and the class began to disperse around the two of you. “For the project I mean! Do you wanna be partners for… the project…?”

You thought about it for a moment, you always had a habit of just doing projects on your own ever since you were a child. While yes doing a project with a partner would make it easier and not as heavy of a load on you, you couldn’t stand working with others. There was always someone who decided to be the freeloader yet still got all the markers for the work. Plus, it was just faster to do it on your own.

But Juyeon is a good person, he’s been your class friend since you first stepped in the class. There was no reason for you not to believe he was a bad worker. “Sure why not,” you shrugged, “It would probably lessen the workload on the both of us and I’m sure you’ve got other things to do outside of campus.”

“How’d you know that?” He asked rather quickly, turning to you with rather curious eyes.

“I don’t know, you just seem like a busybody and a sociable guy,” you replied, giving him a half smile as he finally started to grab all of your belongings. “People like you have large friend groups and millions of extracurricular activities to keep themselves occupied.”

“Now I wouldn’t say I’m a busybody,” he tried to counter, his mannerism similar to those of a puppy’s as he spoke, “but you’re right, I do like to hang out with lots of my friends. Being around people is just… so much better than being alone.”

At those words you take a quick glance over toward where Sunwoo sat, though the gumiho was long gone now. If Juyeon liked hanging around people more than being by himself, it must have made it incredibly hard for Sunwoo to follow him around without looking suspicious.

You could just see it now, the gumiho trying to look as ordinary as possible as he practically chased down Juyeon and his abnormally large friend group. The boy lived in the dorms too so there was no way that Sunwoo was getting him completely alone. You almost giggled at the thought of the gumiho struggling.

“So where do you want to meet so we can work on the project?” Juyeon piped up, steering the conversion back to the project. Though the boy sounded a little too excited to be talking about it. “There’s the cafeteria on campus, a pretty decent coffee shop that’s nearby… oh and our homes! You know, my dorm will always be open to you. And Hyunjae will be more than happy to clean up around the place for you as well.”

“How about we just meet at my apartment for now?” You offered, standing up from your seat and urging him to follow suit.

“Really? You want me to go over to your house? Just me alone?”

You nodded your head, a laugh escaping your mouth as you replied,”I mean, yeah? It’s just a project and I trust you enough to—“

“—hey,” the two of you turned your heads, unsure on who was interrupting your conversation in such a fashion. Sunwoo stood behind the two of you with an almost amused grin, playing with his near fluffy hair with one hand and the other shoved deep into the university sweatshirt he wore. You thought he had left already, he must have blended in almost perfectly with his surroundings. “Let me join your group for the project.”

“Huh?” Both of you responded, different levels of shock exposed on your faces. Though Juyeon was the one who kept talking, “I’m sorry, but this is a solo or partner project. You’ll have to find someone else, I don’t know if we are allowed a third…”

“Don’t worry about that,” Sunwoo assured them, giving Juyeon his signature mischievous smile. You think this is the first time that the gumiho has personally interacted with the boy in public. “I’m sure the teacher will be fine with it, aren't I right?”

You both turned to look at your instructor at the front of the class, but the glint of amber yellow amber in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed to you. The teacher was attending to another student, but took a moment to look up and toward the trio that was staring back at him. He smiled at the three of you before nodding his head, “he already asked about groups of three earlier, it’s fine with me! This whole class is either going solo or in pairs and he didn’t want to be alone so this can be a small exception to the rule.”

Juyeon nodded his head in understanding, turning to face Sunwoo again before giving him a compliant half smile. “Whatever authority says goes I guess. If Y/N is okay with it then…,” he glanced at you for a second and you nodded your head, not really wanting to hear the gumiho’s complaints later if you disagreed, “welcome to the group then. I’m Juyeon, by the way. You are…?”

“You can call me Sun,” he answered, replicating the same compliant expression Juyeon had as he introduced himself. “It’ll be a pleasure working with you.”

“If that’s all then I’ll be going now. I’ll call you about times to meet for the project,” Juyeon excused himself, turning to you with his kind gaze and giving you a proper goodbye before grabbing his belongings and making his trek out of the mythology class.

You watched him leave for a moment, making sure that the boy was out of the room completely before turning to the gumiho beside you. “So? A week of following him and he was just your normal human being wasn’t he? So now your next step is to invade his daily life to try and get dirt on him?”

“What I can say, he was a slimy guy to follow,” Sunwoo admitted, moving to sit on the table you had just used as a desk. “Not only am I doing this to keep my eye on him, but I’m also doing this because you willingly invited a gumiho to your house? Now you really need my protection.”

You rolled your eyes at his claims, beginning your own journey off the campus as you replied to Sunwoo, “I told you to prove to me that Juyeon was a gumiho and I still don’t have that information yet. Until you get solid evidence, I’m going to continue to trust him like I’ve done before I met you. Plus! He’s shown no red flags to me and I’m very good at catching red flags.”

“Red flags of human men maybe, but I’m telling you!” Sunwoo argued, following after you closely, “Juyeon is not of this mortal realm and nearly killed me.”

“If Juyeon nearly killed you, how did he not recognize you the moment you asked to be in our group?” You asked him, not only to antagonize the gumiho but because you had a genuine question on the matter.

“If I’m being honest,” Sunwoo thought to himself for a moment, “I don’t know. Just mentioning the sun part of my name should have at least triggered the fight in him, but he took it like a champ…”

“Maybe the gumiho that was chasing you and tried to kill you wasn’t Juyeon,” you suggested, stopping in your tracks and turning to him before he could give you his regular counterclaim, “maybe the gumiho that was following you was just using Juyeon’s appearance as a disguise? Can’t you guys shapeshift? It would make sense that the Juyeon you saw wasn’t the real one.”

Sunwoo only let out a deep sigh, not wanting to consider your words but the logic was a little too strong to just set aside. “That makes sense but… I just can’t agree. I know that Juyeon was the one who attacked me and is targeting you, I just have to find a way to prove it.”

II.

Why did you even offer your apartment to be the meeting place for the project? What type of rose tinted glasses were you hearing in order to make that type of decision?

Because of your horrible decision making, now you were sitting in your living room on the exact couch you nearly crumbled into when Sunwoo had kissed you not even a full week before except the gumiho wasn’t the one sitting next to you. It was Juyeon. Sunwoo was sitting on the floor in front of the two of you, his smug expression was enough to know the thoughts that were running through his head.

“Since the project is about gumihos, we can easily split this up into three parts,” the boy offered, unwillingly becoming the team leader since the unseen tension between you and Sunwoo had left you speechless, “one of us does the presentation, the other person finds images to add to the presentation, and then we split the research into two parts. I was thinking Y/N could do the presentation since you definitely have a better eye than me when it comes to decorating…”

You had practically cut out Juyeon’s voice in your head. You were a little guilty of doing so, but you couldn’t help it! Not when the gumiho’s mischievous stare was burning holes into your head and the memory of you and Sunwoo sharing an intimate moment on replay in your head. You can replay the situation almost scene by scene in your head actually, that’s how ingrained in your mind it was.

It just had been a very prevalent thought in your mind recently because Sunwoo was gone most of the time. But now he’s here, and so is Juyeon.

“I don’t think Y/N wants to do the presentation actually,” Sunwoo intervened, a foxish grin appearing on his face as he offered, ”I think she wants to do the research instead. It looks like she’s got some… things… on her mind.”

“What?” You quicked added, trying not to seem as disoriented as you actually were. “No— it’s fine. I can do the presentation. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Now that you mention it, Sun,” Juyeon nodded, a frown beginning to cross his features as he watched you, “Y/N… you do seem a little out of it.”

“Maybe we should do this another day… don’t we all want to be focused on our project so we can get a good grade? If someone is distracted, we might not do as well as we can do.” Sunwoo continued, lying straight through his teeth as he encouraged Juyeon’s kindness for you.

You wanted to stop him, you wanted to prove to both of them that you were perfectly okay, but that jingle of the fox bead within Sunwoo’s possession seemed to say otherwise. “Sure, let’s meet another day. How does the day after tomorrow sound? It’ll be right after class too.”

“I’m fine with that,” Juyeon agreed and Sunwoo only nodded in response. “I’ll text you the roles I think we should all have later so you can think about what you want to do in advance. Make sure you let Sun know too.”

You all exchanged goodbyes and wanted until Juyeon left first before sitting in complete silence. You were too ashamed of letting the past distract you and Sunwoo was simply enjoying the moment that he had created.

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to go and follow him,” the gumiho exclaimed, rising off the ground and stretching his limbs. “What a busy day today has been. This is the most I’ve done in a while now… maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable just living here—“

You stop him before he can walk past him, your nails threatening to dig into his skin while the other hand is hovering over the conspicuously placed talisman you own. You felt Sunwoo’s skin crawl as soon as he noticed it and gave you his most innocent smile and big baby doll eyes. “Something the matter?”

“Find out if Juyeon is a gumiho, quickly.” You hissed at him, hoping the very obvious threat was getting through that thick skull of his. “Because I don’t know if I could spend another minute on this couch with him in my house knowing damn well we kissed because of your need to be proven right.”

“What can I say!” The gumiho gleefully responded, leaning down towards you and whispering, “being a gumiho makes me a really good kisser. Of course you wouldn’t forget it so easily.”

Sunwoo yelped as you nearly punched him, slapping the talisman onto his cheek and letting go of him. You watched the nine tailed fox grovelled in pain on the ground, wanting to snatch the paper talisman off but not having the ability to touch it in the first place. “Say that again and next time everything in the house will be covered in a talisman!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He begged, his true form struggling to tear itself out of his humanoid body. The talisman was doing its job trying to dispel and absorb the evil energy and Sunwoo was doing his best trying to keep himself from going into a withdrawal.

You couldn’t stand to watch him lay there in agony anymore. Sure it was funny for a few seconds since you got your revenge, but as time passed you noticed it was taking a lot more energy than you thought for him to keep himself stable. “Stay still for like two seconds okay? Even though that might be… a little hard for you but… whatever just— hold on!”

You drop to your knees in an instant and tear the talisman off like a bandaid, wincing on Sunwoo’s behalf as you watch him take the deepest breath he possibly could. The gumiho form of him seemed to dissipate almost immediately now that he has control over his power but it only made your mind wander.

If a small talisman months old could cause so much damage to him, you wondered how exactly he could go head to head with a gumiho of a nearly full fox bead. “You’re not like… hurt right? The talisman didn’t leave a scar or something because they looked like it hurt really badly.”

“I… really need that fox bead back.” He spoke in between breaths but that sentence gave you all the information you needed to know. The fox bead was probably the primary source of strength for gumihos, sure without it they were still dangerous but in a state like Sunwoo’s who said his was empty? You might have just reduced him to a killable state.

“I am… so sorry,” you apologized, taking the smallest step back as you watched Sunwoo get off of the ground. “If I knew you were that screwed without your original fox bead I would have never touched you with it. It’s my fault, seriously.”

The gumiho shook his head, “No, you’re fine, don’t worry. It’s the person with my fox bead we have to worry about. I don’t think I truly realized how badly of a situation we’re in right now. If I get proof that Juyeon is a gumiho and he catches me? There is no way you or me will get out of that situation alive.”

III.

And oddly enough, a week has gone by since that incident. No, not a week, a month actually.

You finished your project with Juyeon despite the fact that Sunwoo bailed at the last minute, and you've barely seen him since. He went charging after your mythology class friend to find his fox bead and gather the information you needed to prove his claims so he didn’t go far, it's just… been a moment since you’ve seen him.

You know for a fact that he’s still alive because every so often you’ll hear noises in your house while you're trying to sleep and hear the quite yet familiar tone of Sunwoo’s voice curse. But other than that? You don’t see him. Your life had gone back to normal as if you were never being hunted by a gumiho in the first place, as if you never met Sunwoo in the first place.

You did in fact get rid of that talisman though, just in case he came back and wasn’t watching his step.

“Maybe I just need to get out of the house,” you admitted to yourself, staring aimlessly at the ceiling of your room. “I don’t leave much anymore… Maybe Kevin wants to hang out or something?” You had to admit, you did not realize just how boring your life was outside of being associated with Sunwoo. Your days were nothing but wake up, go to class, come home, and repeat.

You reach for your phone amid the blankets folds, grumbling and mumbling to yourself only to grab a hold of it snatch it away from its prison. It was almost dead but that was your fault, you came in your room and immediately collapsed into the bedsheets without question. Where was your charger? Knowing yourself you probably left it in the living room without thinking, who would have known you were going to get up in the first place?

“It’s nearly midnight, Kevin is probably fast asleep by now,” you concluded, thinking about your words for a moment before a text appeared into your notification bar. “Oh, never mind.”

Though, it wasn’t the usual cryptic text you received from the boy. Actually it wasn’t Kevin at all, but it was Juyeon. The last time he had spoken to you over the phone first was when you blacked out after finding Sunwoo.

With your eyes glued to the bright white screen, you forced yourself out of the bed and practically leaped over to the living room to search for your charger with newfound energy. You reached over to flick the lights on but immediately backtracked when Juyeon started to call instead.

“Juyeon,” you start, trying to sound as normal as possible. “What brings you to my phone number tonight?”

“Can I be honest with you?” He questioned, his breaths sounding as though he was forcing them to be rhythmic and slow. You raise an eyebrow at his soft yet rather serious tone, this wasn’t a Juyeon you usually interacted with. “It’s… kinda important honestly.”

“Of course, we’re friends right? I mean… like class acquaintances… but friends nonetheless,” you agree and you might have mistaken his huff for a slightest scoff for a moment. You choose to point it out whether it was serious or not, “what's with that frustrated tone in your voice? Got an attitude or something?”

“No, no that’s not it,” he quickly countered, “it’s just that every time you say that we’re friends, you always have to mention the fact that we're just college friends. It’s a little bothersome sometimes.”

You raise a brow at his words, falling into the couch as you respond, “I mean… is that not what we are…?”

There was a pause on the other side of the phone and you patiently waited for the boy to give you a reply. Instead, he just jumped to the next topic. Typical conversation tactics of a man. “I have something for you and something to tell you, but it has to be done in person. It would feel right if it was over the phone. I was wondering if you would be free to come by the dorms sometime tomorrow?”

“That’s what you wanted to tell me in the middle of the night?” You teased, almost rolling your eyes at his decisions before answering him. “Sure, I don’t think I'll have any classes that afternoon so it should be fine.”

You could almost hear the smile on Juyeon’s face, “perfect! You have to come okay, no bailing out on me now. I’ll be waiting for you!”

You didn’t even bother answering him, slowly sitting up in your seat as goosebumps began to trail down your arms. “Y/N?” He questioned once he noticed your abnormal silence, “are you okay?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the boy didn’t even get another word out of his mouth before you hung up on him, staring out the window of your apartment and trying your best to withhold a scream that wanted to escape. There in the corner of your window stood a figure, glowing amber yellow eyes piercing through the glass and staring straight into your soul. Unfortunately for you, you knew that amber yellow tint a little too well from your mythology studies and first hand experience.

Now you were regretting throwing away that talisman.

Though the fear that crept up your throat like bile dissipated within a moment as the light jingle of bells rang in your ear. The fox bead must be nearby, if you can hear it ringing then that means the gumiho was in the area.

You did have to be careful though, just because you could hear the fox bead didn’t necessarily mean that it was Sunwoo. After all, you haven’t seen him for about a month now. Who knows what could have happened to him… but let’s not let dark thoughts cloud the mind, right?

“Sunwoo…?” You hesitated, inching ever so slowly toward the window. You had to be careful, just because you saw a pair of glowing eyes didn't necessarily mean it was the gumiho you had come to know.

The figure didn’t respond though, in fact it barely moved from its position at the window. You stopped in your tracks, ready to run to your room for safety, when it teetered to the side before falling out of the frame. A loud thud could be heard as they fell to the ground and you finally sprung out of your seat to check. Don’t worry though, you were still extremely cautious going about your next actions.

You cracked open the door just slightly, peering your eye through the crevice to scope out the area. You didn’t exactly give yourself enough room to look around though, just barely seeing the moon’s shine on the night sky.

You were just being cautious! What if you need a quick escape back into your house because a gumiho suddenly attacked? You did live alone after all, who were you going to call if you got into trouble? Definitely not the police. Would they even believe you if you said a nine tailed fox was trying to—

“You suck at being stealthy,” your body was pulled across the doorway as the door opened wide, not even giving you a chance to react before you found yourself outside of your apartment. You looked up with a nervous grin on your face to see Sunwoo towering over you. “I’m surprised you haven’t been taken in as a gumiho’s latest feast yet.”

“You’re back,” you stand up tall, completely disregarding the nine tailed fox’s statement to talk about something else. “Where have you been? I mean— I know where you’ve been, don't get me wrong. But you were gone for a month! Any longer and I think I would have forgotten about you completely.”

“I was doing my job was I not?” He smiled, though it wasn’t his usually mischievous grin plastered onto his face. In fact, he looked a little… strained.

The way he was leaning onto the door and holding it steady so he barely had to move a muscle wasn’t helping his case either. “Now I’m back to have a nice comfortable rest, I’ll probably leave again tomorrow though, you know… gotta catch the gumiho!”

“Hold still for me,” you demanded, reaching out for his shirt collar to inspect something .

Sunwoo swiftly dodged your hand, moving away like it was a bullet coming straight for him. “I said hold still.”

“Why? Do we have a problem or something?” The gumiho asked, grabbing a hold of your curious hand this time with his free hand as Sunwoo let out a shameless giggle. “Did you miss me that much? One month away and now you can’t get your hands off of me!”

“I’m not trying to be handsy,” you scowl, pushing the door with your foot and watching Sunwoo stumble about for the loss of his support before taking his shirt collar in your hand, “I can tell your bleeding through your shirt.”

He winced as the fabric skidded against his skin, revealing the very fresh and oozing red blood that was spilling out of scar on his neck. No, it would be undermining the damage if you simply called it a scar. It was more like a wound, a wound that was rich with fresh blood and scaling down from his neck down to his side… who knew how far down it went actually.

That was just one injury you had spotted, but there were probably countless scars and wounds that dotted his skin.

Each one seemed to be of such increasing severity that it was making you nauseous. “How long have you been like this?” You asked, letting go of his shirt to save yourself from a possible black out. You made sure to grab onto Sunwoo’s arm after, seeing as he barely had enough energy to actually stand on his own.

“You’ve been gone for a month, please don’t tell me you’ve been this badly injured for a month,” you demanded, “I know you’re this… this crazy mythical creature and what not but the severity of those wounds… it’s bad, Sunwoo, even worse than when I first found you. You need to go to a hospital.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” the boy tried to reassure you, “I’m a gumiho, remember? I’m going to heal much faster than a mortal ever could so there’s no need to go to a hospital—“

“Sunwoo! Look at yourself!” You practically screech, letting go of him and watching the gumiho cling into your door frame for support. “You are hurt, Sunwoo, heavily, from your neck down. Any sane person, mythical or not, would know that you need to get proper treatment and not rely on my poor first aid knowledge and your resortive abilities!”

“For the last time, Y/N, no means no. I’m not going, everything will heal if you just give me time.” Sunwoo begged, on the verge of throwing a fit like a child at your constant nagging. He leaned up against the doorframe and slid down it with his arms crossed, a pinch of annoyance struggling to stay hidden behind his attitude.

You have to physically hold yourself back from wrapping your hands around his neck and wringing him out like a wet towel. If his wounds didn’t end up killing him then surely you would end up being the gumiho’s demise. “Fine, can you at least tell me why you’re injured and when all of this… happened?”

Sunwoo glanced toward you, resting his head in his hands as he thought about your words for a moment. You can see the usual mischief in his eyes as he did, the audacity of the gumiho to think that he wasn’t going to share this crucial information with you is absurd. “I hope you’re not in love with Juyeon, Y/N,” he told you, his eyes shifting into that amber yellow tint, “because you’re about to get your heart broken.”

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to make of the gumiho’s words before it hit you. “Oh… you can’t be serious.”

[nickjunesource]

Full article below.

Max Minghella is sitting in his backyard in the LA sunshine, his t-shirt an homage to the French filmmaker Mia Hansen-Løve, his adopted shepherd mix, Rhye, excited by the approach of a package courier.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks — the dog, not me — tenderly.

Minghella, who at 35 has dozens of screen credits to his name, is best known as The Handmaid’s Tale’s cunning chauffeur Nick Blaine, a character who it’s difficult to imagine saying sweetheart. In airless Gilead, of course, a cautious hand graze with Elisabeth Moss’ June can pass for a big romantic gesture. In a Season 1 episode featuring child separation and hospital infant abduction, Nick’s major contribution is to trade stolen glances with a sex slave while “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” pumps discordantly along. I ask Minghella about playing the series’ closest approximation to a dreamy male lead against the show’s dark narrative of female subjugation.

“I know this is not the answer you want to hear,” Minghella says with none of Nick’s hesitation. “But I like that stuff, right? In the pilot, I think Nick only had a handful of lines. It wasn't clear that this is what the character would turn into. And it's quite fortunate for me personally, because I'm not a massively sort of intellectual person in my real life. I love Fifty Shades of Grey. That's like my Star Wars. It suits me to play a character like him.”

Minghella surmises that this enduring romanticism is an outcome of nurture. His father, the late British director Anthony Minghella, made grand romantic dramas like Cold Mountain and The English Patient. And there was the young, cinema-mad Max sitting on the living room sofa, absorbing everything. “It’s taken me a long time to understand this,” he says of his prolonged childhood exposure to love stories. “My dad made The English Patient when I was 10. So it was two years of watching the dailies to that movie and then watching 50 cuts of it. And then [The Talented Mr.] Ripley he made when I was 13, and it was the same thing.” These were an adolescent Max Minghella’s alternative to reruns. “I think they did shape my perspective on the world in a lot of ways, specifically The English Patient. That was a complicated love story, and I wonder sometimes how much it's affected my psychology.”

Some sons rebel; others resemble. Minghella’s co-star O-T Fagbenle, who plays June’s other lover from before the time of Gilead, got his first job acting in Anthony Minghella’s romantic crime film Breaking and Entering. “Anthony is one the kindest, most beautiful men that I've ever had the privilege of working with before,” Fagbenle says. “And Max has his gorgeous, sensitive, open-minded soul.”

Though Minghella spent his childhood on the set of The Talented Mr. Ripley, playing an uncredited Confederate soldier role in Cold Mountain, and tooling around with a Super-8 camera Matt Damon gave him, he insists his upbringing was normal. He grew up in South Hill Park overlooking Hampstead Heath in London with his father and mother, the choreographer Carolyn Choa. (Minghella also has a half-sister, Hannah Minghella, who is now a film executive.) Yes, technically, it was London, but that’s not how it seemed. “I feel like I grew up in a very small town. Every school I went to was in Hampstead. I was born in Hampstead,” Minghella says of the small map dot of his life before university. “When I went to New York, I felt I was going to the big city.”

Despite his illustrious surname, movie-watching was far from restricted to the classics. “Beverly Hills Cop is definitely the movie I remember having an unhealthy obsession with. I think I saw it when I was 5 for the first time, and I'd watch it just two or three times a day for years. I'm just obsessed with it.”

Plenty of actors can trace their love of movies back to a love of stories, but for Minghella the relationship seems to flow in reverse. When he left for Columbia University, Minghella opted to study history for its connection, through storytelling, to film. It was during the summers between his years of college that he started taking acting more seriously. Before his graduation, he’d already appeared in Syriana, starring Damon and George Clooney. Soon, he’d make a splash as Divya Narendra in The Social Network in 2010 and be cast in Clooney’s Ides of March. As all young actors eventually must, Minghella moved to Los Angeles.

It’s been over a decade since he last lived on the Heath, but, perhaps unusually for a person who’s chosen his profession, Minghella is adamantly not a “shapeshifter,” in his words. Home for Christmas this year, he started sifting through old journals stored at his mother’s house, “just like scraps of writing from when I was extremely young up through my teenage years,” before coming to America. “It was hilarious to me,” Minghella says of staring at his childhood reflection. “My review of a movie at 7 years old is pretty much what my review of a movie at 35 will be. My taste hasn't changed much. And when I sort of love something, I do tend to continue to love it.”

Which brings us back to his enduring love of romance, born of his bloodline, which is all over Minghella’s own 2018 directorial debut. Teen Spirit is a hazily lit film about a teenage girl from the Isle of Wight — the remote British island where Max’s father Anthony was born — who enters a local X-Factor-style singing competition. (It stars Minghella’s rumored girlfriend of several years, Elle Fanning.) The story is small, but its crescendos are epic.

Minghella calls the movie — an ode to the power of the pop anthem — “embarrassingly Max.” Max loves a good music-driven movie trailer — he’s watched the one for Top Gun: Maverick “many” times. And Max loves the rhythmic beats of sports movies like Friday Night Lights. Max loves movies with excesses of female energy, like Spring Breakers. He likens Teen Spirit to an experiment, his answer to the question, “Can I take all these things that I love and find a structure that can hold them?” The result is a touching “hodgepodge” of Minghella’s fascinations, inspired by the songs from another thing he loves: Robyn’s 2010 album Body Talk (itself a dance-pop meditation on love).

Minghella hasn’t directed any films since, but he sees now how making movies fits his personality — organized, impatient — more organically than starring in them does. Directing also helped him to appreciate that acting is “much harder than I was giving it credit for,” which, in turn, has made him like it more. Besides The Handmaid’s Tale currently airing on Hulu, Minghella appears in Spiral, the ninth installment in the Saw horror franchise and, from where I’m sitting, at least, a departure.

“I do like horror movies, but the thing that was really kind of magical is that I was feeling so nostalgic, right? We talked about Beverly Hills Cop earlier. I was just missing a certain kind of movie,” Minghella explains of his new role as Chris Rock’s detective partner. He was yearning for simple story-telling, like in the buddy cop movies of his youth, especially 48 Hours. It almost goes without saying that a buddy cop movie is another kind of love story. “And then I read the script and it was very much in that vein.” He clarifies: “I mean, it's also extremely Saw. It's very much a horror movie.”

His renewed excitement for acting translated onto The Handmaid’s Tale set, too. Veteran Hollywood producer Warren Littlefield describes casting Minghella in the role of Nick as an effortless choice: “Sometimes you agonize over things. [Casting Minghella] was instantly clear to me, and everyone agreed.” Now in its fourth season, the tone of the Hulu hit is graver than ever. Gilead is more desperate to maintain its rule, and so more audacious in its violence. Perhaps it’s fitting that the show’s romantic gestures finally match that scale.

In one particularly soaring moment, Elisabeth Moss’ June and Minghella’s Nick meet at the center of a bridge and crush into a long kiss. It’s been two seasons since they held their newborn daughter together, and it’s hard to see how this isn’t their last goodbye. Littlefield, like Minghella, is here for the romance among the rubble. “It's spectacular when they come together. In the middle of all of the trauma is this epic love story,” he says. “Max is just magnificent in the role.”

For Minghella, the satisfaction is more personal. He works with good people, he likes his scenes, and he thinks Nick is a complex character. Minghella read The Handmaid’s Tale for the first time in college in 2005. Like all the things Minghella has ever liked, he still likes it. He’s as proud of this most recent season as he is the show’s first. And he watched Nick and June race recklessly back to each other across the expanse of the screen exactly how you might expect. “I watched it like a fan girl.”

[dcforts]

[something more]

ao3.

Dean never wants to go to hunter gatherings.

First, because they don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to meeting other hunters, and second, because whenever they go there's always people looking at them like they’re freaks. He knows they tell all sorts of stories about them and some are hard, ugly truths that Dean would rather stop thinking about for the rest of his life.

But he's got a text from Carol while he was about to get in the car after wrapping up a case, and Sam asked who it was, so it had become a Thing to discuss.

And Dean’s main argument was “Why would we go?”, but Sam’s was “Why not?”, which was objectively stronger. And it got worse because from the backseat Jack kept interjecting with, “Go where?” and, “Who are these people?” until Sam paid attention to him and explained that hunters meet up sometimes to “get a drink, exchange stories”, and that had made him light up like a Christmas tree because Jack loved stories and the idea of expanding his pool of knowledge on hunting and creatures appealed to him greatly.

So the fact that Dean had tried to point out that, “This is stupid. We are hunters, not a book club,” had sorted no effect whatsoever. No, instead, Jack had said, “That sounds nice. We should go,” and when Dean had met Cas’ eyes in the rear view mirror, all he had offered was a shrug.

Typical.

It’s not that Dean wants to be a hermit or something, but he always feels like he needs to be wary of who’s gonna be at these sorts of things because some may treat them like Hollywood stars, but some may want to shoot them on sight. Anyone could come up to them and call them out for starting the end of the world, letting monsters out of Hell and Purgatory, cosmic beings out of their cages, getting their family killed, destroying their lives.

And there’s also this: are they really ready for Jack’s debut in society? Sam thinks they are. He thinks it’s a great opportunity to show that the community doesn’t have anything to worry about. He’s with them now and he’s not going anywhere so they should get used to that. Cas says he’ll be there to intervene in case things go south and Dean’s mind flashes with Carol’s house burning to the ground after Cas’ has gone all mama swan on the hunters. He meets Sam’s eyes briefly and it looks like he had the exact same images playing in front of his eyes, “I’m sure it won’t be necessary," he adds quickly.

So Sam wanted to go and Jack wanted to go and Cas didn’t seem to be able to say no to the kid even if he tried, so Dean had to bite his cheek and wake up early the next morning to drive across the state.

At least it’s a nice day, at least it stopped raining and the sun is breaking in from the clouds; the chilly air that comes in from the window that Cas is in the habit of keeping rolled all the way down brings in the pleasant smell of wet leaves.

Dean feels his knees bumping on the back of his seat from time to time and looks at him in the rear view mirror and Cas sometimes catches his eyes and sometimes he doesn’t.

At least they are spending time together. It’s rare for Cas to stay around after a hunt these days. He doesn’t need the down time they require, or so he says. He gets bored in the bunker, starts climbing the walls the second the door closes behind them. He gets restless, and then there’s Heaven and always bigger things to deal with, and Dean imagines that that beats staying behind to play foosball with him and Jack.

Going on hunts with Cas is always fun, but it’s also a run against time and there’s death and guns and fear involved, even when it’s an easy-peasy salt-and-burn. And it’s the four of them crammed in a motel room, so they don’t get much time to be alone. And Dean likes when they are all together, but likes it more when Sam and Jack disappear in the maze of the bunker and he gets to have his best friend all for himself.

That is why Dean had been pleased when Cas had expressed his intention of staying with them for a couple more days. In that moment Dean had been busy keeping his lunch in his stomach - he’d just found the shredded skin of a shapeshifter in a freaking kitchen drawer - but he’d heard him loud and clear all the same.

They were moving about in the victim’s house looking for clues and talking about other stuff, when Cas had said something along the lines of, “I could work on it once we go back to the bunker,” and Dean had asked, half distracted, “So you’re going back with us?” and Cas had his back turned and Dean had opened the drawer in that moment, but he'd heard him when he’d said:

“I guess.”

It was barely a whisper but it meant yes, that’s all that mattered. And it also meant, from Dean’s perspective, a really nice weekend, that included, not in order of importance: his hot dog pants, driving around with the music up, Dean’s cave and Cas.

So, yeah, if Dean was completely honest with himself – something that he generally tried to avoid – it’s not like he wanted to waste a whole day of that to go spend it with a bunch of strangers.

But it doesn’t matter now, because they’ve piled up in the Impala and driven to Carol’s.

Dean likes her. She spent half her life working at a bank, but after crossing path with a djinn she hanged her suit, moved out of the city and created a safe place for hunters, soon becoming a beacon in the community in Kansas. Her door is always open, as she said that one time they met her on a case. Dean likes her for no-nonsense ways, her honest looks and, not less importantly, her amazing sandwiches.

Carol fusses over him and Sam in the hall, scolds them for taking so long to visit when they live in the same state, then Sam makes the introductions, and it’s only his shifting a little from side to side that betrays his nervousness.

Her eyes focus on Cas and her expression speaks of wonder and surprise.

“The angel Castiel,” she calls him and he nods, “a long way from Heaven.”

“The weather here is nicer,” he says, and Dean snorts softly next to him.

Jack wins her over immediately with his wide smile and polite hand shake, “I look forward to exchanging stories,” he says and she huffs a laugh and says:

“Sure, Jack. We heard a lot about you. I bet everyone will be eager to talk to you.”

On the other side of Cas, Sam gets more fidgety; he says, “If you think uh – we don’t want any trouble.”

But she shakes her head and gestures dismissively. “Nonsense. No one will start trouble if they don't wanna see the end of my rifle. A friend of yours is a friend of mine,” she reassures him. “Plus, Eileen vouched for him.”

“Sh-she is here already?” Sam almost chokes up and all of the sudden he seems to have grown a few inches taller.

Dean understands now. He pieces together his insistence in coming to this thing, his bouncing knee throughout their journey, the way he checked his phone more or less forty-five times. He feels slightly less bad about having caved in. There are a lot of things that Dean would give up for Sam, and things that he would conjure out of thin air just for him to have, if he could. But there’s so much he can’t give him and he wants Sam to just get out and take, have and enjoy. So if he wanted to come here just to meet Eileen again, Dean’s happy to be complicit.

Sam is the first to disappear in the packed living room, with Jack following right behind, but Dean grabs Castiel’s elbow before he can take another step. He circles him to block him from the entrance and says, “Hey, stick with me, alright? Last time I was at one of these things this guy Norman talked about his knife collection for three hours.”

“But, Jack…”

“He’s with Sam, he’s gonna be fine,” says Dean, dismissing. He grins, “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people; don’t you wanna make friends?”

Cas makes a face but doesn't say anything else. Apparently Jack is not the only one who he seems unable to refuse something to and that makes Dean feel good. He trails after him around the room as Dean stops to say hello from familiar face to familiar face.

There’s Max and Alicia, sprawled on a couch, nursing the worst hangover Dean’s seen in a long time. They say they're happy to see him, but then they eye Cas up and down and Max says something along the lines of, “Oh, I see now why you keep him hidden from us," and that prompts Dean to quickly move along.

Then they bump into this old man who claims to have been one of the patrons of the Roadhouse. Dean has no idea who he is, but he swears he remembers him from when he was a boy - of course he remembers, and hey, if he needs anything, did he know that he was retired but still kept an eye out for monster sightings, and did he hear of that one time he and Bill Harvelle -

Dean tries to nod and smile appropriately for the whole time and when they finally manage to escape him, Cas leads him to an empty corner where they can take refuge.

"I didn't think there would be this many people," Cas says, surveying the room clearly looking for Jack.

Dean elbows him and points at where the kid is talking animatedly to two young hunters he's never seen, "What is he even talking about?"

"Our last case."

"Wh-? Oh, right, I always forget you have the superhearing," then he has a thought and adds, "Hey, you gonna tell me if you hear someone talking shit about me, right?"

Cas' eyebrows raise in thinly veiled amusement and that's all the answer Dean needs, "What? Who?" he asks, outraged.

But Cas doesn't have time to answer before they get interrupted and soon surrounded by hunters Dean's seen on the road, worked with, heard about. Some share their epic tales of escapes from impossible dangers, some are curious and some are brave and blunt and they ask Cas questions and address him without fear and Cas is polite and just a tiny bit awkward.

It gets a little chilly when this guy with too many beers in starts bragging about how he knows all about angels' weaks spots. Cas' face stays as stony as it gets for the whole time but then he says “I suggest you check your sources,” with a deep voice that runs a shiver down Dean’s spine, and he’s not even the one who’s directing his intense gaze at.

There are so many different people that Cas doesn't stick out like a sore thumb, and Dean finds himself thinking that if they were just two regular hunters in a crowd and nothing more, perhaps some things would be easier.

He almost sighs of relief when he eyes Eileen on the other side of the room and steers Cas towards her.

"I can't believe I still haven't had a single beer," he mutters as they elbow their way through the crowd. Sam hovers around her with a timid smile plastered on his face that doesn’t seem to take any breaks.

Dean hugs her and tries not to follow Cas’ movement with the corner of his eyes when he senses him stepping away from his side.

Eileen calls his attention back. She makes fun of him saying, “Sam told me you didn’t want to come. Getting too old to leave the house?”

“Very funny,” Dean says.

“Next time we can organize something at the bunker. There’s so much space," she says, smirking.

Dean thinks 'Yeah, no way' and says, “Yeah, no way,” and she laughs.

“But you,” Dean adds, “you can come stay with us. Anytime. For as long as you want. We would love to have you. Me, Sam,” he says wiggling his eyebrows in a way that has his brother close his eyes in embarrassment, “you’re always welcome.”

“Thank you,” she signs, blushing a little, “I’ll try to come by.”

Dean is glad to know that. She has opened a door in Sam’s life that he probably thought closed forever and Dean will always be grateful to her for that. Also, she is a badass and totally out of his brother’s dorky league.

Cas comes standing by his side again and Dean feels a gentle touch on the small of his back. It's intimate and unexpected so he steps away immediatly almost on instict and Cas' drops his hand. He meets his gaze and they frown at each other for a second. Cas seems about to say something, but then goes back to sporting his usual face, “I think I saw Claire. I’m going to find her.”

So Dean, with that spot on his lower back still tingling, follows him out of the room and into another where there’s only a few scattered hunters and Jack, happily squeezed on a couch with his new friends, his mouth hanging open as he hears a story from this guy named Ronnie that Dean knows for a fact only talks shit. The kid seems to be having fun though, he waves at them as move along.

They find Claire in the empty white kitchen, and catch her right when she’s about to open herself a beer. Her eyes widen in panic but she doesn’t manage to hide the bottle behind her back fast enough.

“Hey guys,” she says with a nervous laugh, “didn’t know you were going to be here.”

Dean stretches out a hand without a word and she drops the act, sighs and hands it over. Before she can say anything else, Cas steps between them, "Claire, it's nice to see you," he says and she lets him squeeze her into a hug.

Pressed against his shoulder, Dean sees her face change expression, her body slightly relax in his arms. She pats him on the back and says: “Good to see you too, Cas.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just passing through,” she replies, putting on airs, “Finished up a job a few miles north. I thought I’d drop by Carol’s before moving on.”

She flips a strand of blonde hair over her shoulder and Dean scoffs.

“So you are in Kansas, and you don’t call, and you drop by Carol’s? Were you even planning on stopping by the bunker?”

She rolls her eyes at him, “I go where the job takes me, Dean. I don’t make plans.”

Dean rolls his eyes in the exact same way, “Right. Well, you know it wouldn’t kill you to stay with us for a while. We could get you a bit of training.”

She groans as if she's heard that same speech about a thousand times, but Cas cuts off whatever she was going to retort with and says, “We weren’t planning on coming either. Sam and Jack are here too.”

“Jack’s here?” she lights up. She says she's heard all sorts of things about him and she can’t wait to meet the kid and of course she’s gonna go easy on him, it’s not like she’s gonna eat him, Jesus, Dean, protective much?

Dean frowns at her but she’s already halfway out of the room. “I can be his big sister. I mean, he should have someone he can talk to. Living with you three must be – a lot.”

“Hey,” protests Dean, but she just laughs and disappears down the hallway.

Dean shakes his head and leans against one of the kitchen counters. Cas does the same against the opposite island. At the end of the narrow passage between the furniture there’s a glass door that gives into the patio and a small garden beyond it.

The door is ajar and fresh air comes in; Cas gets engrossed in watching the pattern the raindrops formed on the glass and Dean gets engrossed in watching Cas. He seems lost in thought and Dean would like to say something but doesn’t want to be annoying. Not today, not when tomorrow he could be gone.

He’ll take this quiet moment instead.

“She’ll be a bad influence on Jack,” he breaks the silence, and that gets him an amused quirk of lips, “But it really would be nice to have her around more often.”

Curiously that has Cas' take his eyes away from the glass and lay his gaze on him. He has his lips pressed in a small smile.

“What?”

“You want people you love around you.”

Dean frowns, “What about it?” he asks, and it comes out sharp and defensive.

Cas shakes his head a little, but there’s a shadow on his face that confuses him: “Nothing, I only meant -" but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because a group of hunters enters the kitchen talking loudly and soon Dean has his vision blocked by half a dozen bodies and he has to press himself against the cabinets to let them through, towards the garden door.

One guy in a baseball cap stops in his track as he sees Dean.

He asks with his eyes wide and stunned expression if he is Dean Winchester, the Dean Winchester and Dean is glad that the rest of the group is already out of earshot because he wasn’t in the mood for a meet and greet session. But the guy starts talking about some hunter named Troy, who he has supposedly hunted with a couple of years back. And Dean’s not in a habit of calling people liars but he's pretty sure he'd remember if he had wiped out a nest of fangs with this guy and allegedly taken down five all on his own and went and get steaks and beer afterwards.

He tries to shoot him down gently and say, “Maybe your friend had me confused with someone else,” but the guy’s face falls and tells him Troy has recently passed on the job and this was his favourite story to tell, and he would always tell it, all proud and all.

Dean pats him on a shoulder then.

“You know what, we shouldn’t ruin it for him now, should we? Troy, you say? Of course I remember him,” he says and throws in a wink. The guy beams at him and thanks him and gets a little chocked up because Troy might have been a liar but he swears he was one of the good ones.

The guy invites him to join his friends for a drink but Dean raises his half-empty bottle and says “I’m fine, thanks.”

When the guy walks away, Cas moves to lean on the counter by his side. Dean feels the familiar weight of his arm against his and he wonders if they could pick up the conversation where they left it. But Cas says:

“That was nice of you.”

Dean shrugs looking down at their shoes lined up and for some reason he thinks it’s a funny sight. If they were just two shoe wearing creatures standing side by side and nothing more, perhaps some things would be easier.

“Doesn't really change my life. And it's a good story,” he huffs a laugh, it comes out bitter, “Better than some of the true ones anyway.”

“I understand what you mean,” says Cas with a sigh and Dean extends his arm to offer him his beer, and even though Cas usually refuses, this time he takes it.

Dean does his best not to follow his hand bringing the bottle to his lips. And he does his best, later, not to wonder if the wetness touching his lips when he drinks is just beer or something else.

If they were just two drinking creatures, sharing a bottle of beer and nothing more, perhaps everything would be easier.

Soon the bottle is empty and Cas says, “I’ll get you another one,” but Dean refuses.

It’s nice there - someone's turned the music on in the other room, but here it's muffled by the walls, and the light is just right to make Cas’ eyes look like sapphires. They don’t need to move.

But then the group of hunters out in the patio erupts in laughter and Cas’ gaze shifts on them and then lingers on the glass door.

Dean feels him slipping from him once again. He sighs, “You wanna go out, check the garden?”

Cas nods and heads out and Dean can’t do anything but follow, past the hunters and the patio. They walk the perimeter of the small square of grass, wet and glistening with old rain. The sun and the clouds draw patches of light on the ground and they move from dark to light to dark again in an irregular rhythm, chasing the warmth of the sunlight and the relief of the shade. Dean feels uncomfortable in both, but there’s no middle line he can walk on.

“Sorry we dragged you here,” he finds himself saying, “You never stick around, and for once that you do, that’s what you get.”

Cas frowns slightly at him, “I stick around,” he protests.

Dean laughs, “You don’t,” he says and although he tries to reign it in with the bitterness, it stills seeps out. Cas’ gaze prompts him to explain himself, “Come on, the minute we’re done with a case you are out of here. I don’t blame you,” he quickly adds cutting off whatever Cas was opening his mouth to say. “I know you don’t like sitting around. Believe me, no one understands that more than I do.”

A long beat passes and then Cas says, “I’m sorry, I never meant to make you feel like I don’t want to spend time with you.”

Dean stops in his tracks and Cas stops with him to face him.

Dean shakes his head, “Cas, you don’t have to apologize to me. This is not about me. And I said, I get it,” he shrugs.

Cas doesn’t look at all convinced and Dean doesn’t feel at all convinced either. He knows this is not about his feelings. It’s more like a general way of how things are. It’s a truth, a fact. Sam would say the same.

Sam would. Standing here in the garden with him, Sam would tell him the very same things and wish for the very same things. He’s sure he would. He's not accusing Cas of anything. On the contrary, he’s showing him understanding.

“It’s all the same for me, I swear. I don't care,” he adds, but saying that hurts a little, for some reason he can’t quite determine, and he finds his own frown mirrored on Cas’ face.

“Alright,” he says, sounding profoundly sad and again the same shadow passes on his face.

This is all wrong. What did he do?

“Look, I don’t get what you want me to say. If you wanted to - ” he exhales, angrily, “Just - forget it, let’s go back inside,” he says but as he tries to walk away Cas stops him by his elbow.

“You could ask me.”

He looks unsure, troubled, as if he is not quite certain this is a good idea. Dean breathes out a confused, “What?” that he himself can barely hear.

Cas squares his shoulders, “To stay. You could ask me,” he sounds accusing, and he takes a step forward. His eyes are firm in Dean’s and with his elbow still in his grip, he feels like a hummingbird flapping his wings in the paw of a dragon, “You ask everybody else.”

Dean’s heart starts pounding. He tries to swallow but his mouth is too dry.

“I don’t wanna ask you, Cas,” he says, cutting, yanking his arm free of his hold, and it sounds bad, bad, bad to his ears and he can read hurt all over Cas’ face. He needs to explain himself. He takes a breath, says a lame, “I mean, if you don't -”

And then, Dean suddenly understands.

Cas thinks he doesn’t -

He thinks he doesn’t care if he’s around and doesn’t ask because he doesn’t need him.

Dean feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest. He’s not ready for this. He’s not ready for this. He fights the need to look down. He doesn’t know why this is so hard for him. It’s just Cas. But that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s Cas. It would hurt ten times more if he were to say no. It’s nothing like with Claire, he asked her for her; it’s nothing like with Eileen, he asked her for Sam. But if he asked Cas, he would be asking for himself, wouldn’t he?

Seeing him walk away anyway would be too much then.

But maybe he wouldn’t.

Cas senses his struggle, “If you want, you can ask me,” he says, coming closer, in his eyes his timeless patience, that gaze that tells him that he is seen, he is known. Cas says: “I will say yes,” and it’s barely more than a whisper but Dean’s brain is a step away from short-circuiting anyway.

He looks away and he doesn’t recognize his own voice when he blurts out a hurried, muttered, nervous, almost angry: “Well, stay, then.”

But then a sunbeam decides to cut through the clouds in that exact moment and has Dean looking up again. The lazy sunlight of an early afternoon shines on Cas’ face. He’s not bothered by the sudden change of light, unlike Dean, who has to squint and bring a hand to his forehead.

Cas’ eyes sparkle like shimmering water when he says, “Okay.”

Dean barely remembers what happens after that. That image gets imprinted behind his eyelids and he can’t stop thinking about it.

He floats through a darts game and a dozen of Carol’s sandwiches. Then there's Jack telling an embarrassing story about him that has people folding in two with laughter, and Claire agreeing on following them back to the bunker only with the promise of destroying him at foosball.

There's Sam introducing him to this lady to work a job together on alledged arachnes activity in Winsconsin and a girl who wants him to debunk some stuff she's heard about them but she doesn't believe (he disappoints her cause they are mostly true) but most importantly, there's Cas' thigh pressed against his when he's sitting and Cas’ shoulder just an inch away when he's standing, and somehow it's different than it was before.

Most of all, he feels lighter than he's felt in ages.

*

Later, as he gets to his car with Sam, he says, “Hey, you know, you were right. It was a little fun,” and his brother looks at him in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me? We came here to meet new people and you spent all your time with Cas.”

Dean shrugs, embarrassed to be called out. “So what? You spent all your time with Eileen,” he says and he regrets it immediately, especially as Sam purses his lips like he’s holding back a laugh.

He nods, “I see your point,” he says diplomatically, stressing the t, before he slips into the passenger seat.

Dean doesn’t look forward in continuing the conversation, crammed in a small space with his ears burning and Sam’s gigantic enquiring eyes on him, thank you very much, so he stays out of the car, his arms crossed on the roof, frowning at himself.

He watches as Cas comes down the little pathway with Jack and Claire. In the orange light of the sunset, Jack turns to ask him something and Cas nods. Typical. At the end of the path they split and only Cas makes his way across the street.

"Jack is riding with Claire," he says as soon as he's within earshot. He sounds like he doesn't think it's a good idea and it's a little funny.

"Relax, we're gonna be right behind them."

Cas seems reassured by that, but it only lasts the time it takes for him to make his way around the car, because even before he can grab the car handle, Claire speeds past them shouting, "See you, dorks." Now he looks truly alarmed.

Dean says, "You up for a ride after we drop Sam off?” and all his worry melts away from his face. He says a soft, “Alright,” and disappears into the backseat.

So when they get to the bunker, Dean doesn't follow Claire’s car to the garage and stops up front, the engine running. Sam looks at him confused, “We’ll be here in an hour,” Dean just says, grateful for the shadows around his face.

Sam is stunned for just a second, then snorts, “Fine guys, I’ll babysit tonight, but next time you gotta ask.”

He gets out and the next moment Cas has taken his seat. He doesn't waste time to pop one of Dean's tapes in the deck as he takes the road again.

Dean rolls his window down and in the night air that ruffles his hair he can smell another storm coming. He turns the music up and meets Cas’ eyes. There’s a smile in there somewhere that mirrors his own.

And - they may not be just two individuals in a car going nowhere and nothing more, and things may not be easy, probably never will, but maybe, Dean thinks, it doesn’t really matter in the end.

[five-rivers]

I just had a vague idea for a Danny Phantom AU that treats the ghosts more as spirits than monsters to beat up, a bit like Yokai in japanese folklore. With barriers, sacret sited, curses, blessings, purifications, etc. The AU follows Danny becoming a guardian entity.

(I love that idea, and this isn’t quite what you’re talking about, I think, but...  Yeah, I don’t know.  Enjoy this snippet.)

Danny can feel it, the moment his feet hit the pavement of Saint Rita Avenue, and casts a blessing at whoever picked the name for this road.  He makes it to the median, and turns, facing back the way he came.  The washed-out yellow street lights prick at his eyes, reminding him that, as always, he has more in common with what he’s been running from than anything else.  

Darkness splashes against the barrier between street and sidewalk.  On both sides.

He hates it when spirits work together.

In Danny’s pockets, paper rustles.  Prayers and charms from half a dozen different cultures, East and West, copied as best three untrained teenagers could.  Some of them had done good.  None of them had done enough.

He’s glad it’s late enough that there are no cars.  The street is quiet, except for whispers only he can hear.  It is cold, except for the almost-comforting burning under his feet, promising him safety, for now.

But this is a road with the name of someone holy, not hallowed ground.  The barrier at its edges is not strong, and the thought of approaching an intersection, a crossroads, carries with it a frisson of risk that Danny is loath to ignore.  Sometimes the labyrinthine Old Law that governed crossroads was helpful, but not tonight.  Not this close to midnight with the shadows practically boiling with malice.  

He needs a church.  Or a temple.  Or a mosque.  Or a neopagan’s working space.  He’ll even take a backyard where a bunch of kids are going through an Egypt phase and play at worshiping Osiris and Horus-Re.  It’s worked before.  Barely.  Any place that’s had faith and its motions poured out on it often enough and recently enough for it to matter.  

Otherwise Danny will have to draw on his own power, and that’s never turned out well.  

But this section of Saint Rita Avenue isn’t the kind of place a church is built, and even with the spirit-thing swamping his senses with its hate, Danny can’t feel enough of a spark to justify breaking in.  

He used the last of his blessed salt to get this far.  He’s been out of holy water for days.  

The first tendrils of other have broken through the avenue’s barrier.  The whispers become razor sharp and crystal clear against Danny’s mind.  What are you what are you what are you and not here not there you don’t belong and we know you and pain and fear and give up give up give up.  They’re singsong and saccharine and far from the worst he’s endured so far tonight. 

He’s out of time.  He’s out of ideas.  

Danny takes a step backwards and stops being Danny.  

Phantom is different than Danny.  He is made of pain and fear and all the things Danny thought were more important than his own life.  He is a wild and contradictory spirit, his anchor to this word both inviolable and tenuous.  He walks the narrow path between the sacred and the unspeakably profane.  

The spirits reaching for him know this.  They use it as their weapon, and it hurts more than anything.  

(He is a thing that should not be and every second he does he degrades the souls of everyone around him he is a parasite does he not see--) 

Phantom knows he cannot win this fight.  But if he runs, these spirits will continue to hunt, to prey--

No.  

He can see the spirits more clearly now than when he was clad in flesh.  He can see them one, two, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen times and more, spread across the layers of reality that they are allowed.  When he is Danny again, he will remember a shapeshifter and a woman made of black flames.  

(He does not know what he looks like in these places.  He is afraid to find out.)

He fights.  

He loses.  Badly.  

Not so badly that he cannot run home to the maze of light his parents built blind and he added to with averted eyes.  This could be seen as a kind of victory, to live to fight again, protect again, come up with a new strategy, but Phantom has been injured too badly.  A wound to the spirit is still a wound, never mind that when he wakes up as Danny all he feels is a heart-deep ache.  

His covers are tangled around him when he wakes, the protective signs Tucker had embroidered into the cloth pressed against his bare skin.  He does not know what happened to the clothes he was wearing.  If he is lucky, he dropped them in the wash in a post-transformation haze.  If not, they’re lying in the middle of Saint Rita Avenue.  Or just.  Gone.  Which is also an option.  

As he frees himself, he notices more marks on his skin.  They match the low-grade fog of depression in his brain.  Both are souvenirs from fighting with his soul outside his body.  

(Or whatever his soul had become.)

Getting dressed is a chore.  A painful chore.  He makes it downstairs eventually, although he wishes he hadn’t when he sees Jazz’s spirit week poster on the kitchen counter.  Spirit.  It seems like a cruel universal jest.  

A warm hand touches his shoulder, and Danny looked up into his sister’s eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” says Danny, even as he thinks no.  

She smiles, just a little bit.  “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Danny shrugs.  He can’t, really, and he doesn’t want to lie to her face.

“Just-- I know you’re going through some stuff, but, I have faith in you, okay?  I believe in you.  So, try to believe in yourself, too, okay?”

“Okay,” says Danny.  Something feels... different, about the way Jazz says that.  It isn’t her normal pep talk, and she doesn’t mention psychology at all.  

She gives him a slightly large smile and a pat and walks away.  

Mine, whispers the part of him that was always Phantom, sounding both surprised and pleased.  

Of course she’s ours, Danny thinks back, she’s our sister.  

But he feels fuller, now.  Healed, in some small way, from what had been done to him the previous night.  

It takes longer than it should for him to put the pieces together.

[megumis-lashes]

Love, but make it Magic!

Werewolf! Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

*Contains*: mentions of blood/fighting, slight angst (if you squint), bullying, fighting, slight swearing, Enemies to lovers if you squint, school based on western standards, werewolf Hyunjin, witch/vampire reader

Nothing too bad overall. Mainly fluff. I sometimes use italics for emphasis. I use typical quotes for speech :)

Narrators POV

In today’s society, supernatural beings like vampires and werewolves are believed to be mythical creatures. Few people believe in their existence and have many false stereotypes surrounding these creatures’ existence. In reality they do exist. Supernaturals or whatever you like to call them, live a life hidden from society. They play the role of innocent humans in a world where they aren’t accepted. In certain areas, schools and housing are built to house strictly supernatural creatures. Despite their separation from the world, they still have many disputes between each other.

Name’s POV

My life has never been easy. From a young age I’ve been pressured to fit into a society that I was not designed for. I’m half witch, half vampire, a deadly combination in today’s world. Not only am I hated by humans but I’m also hated by other supernaturals due to some dumb disputes among species. I lived among humans for the the first portion of my life. I was constantly in fear for what might happen to me if I was discovered. I had to live and act exactly as a human, which was never an easy task. Thankfully, for college I was able to go somewhere I better fit in, an all supernatural college, NX University. My parents were opposed to me going due to their meek status against humans, but I needed a change in lifestyle. Thankfully I managed to get multiple scholarships to the school.

I had been living on campus for a few months. Everything was going smoothly. My stress and anxiety of blending in was long forgotten and I was able to express myself through my supernatural abilities. I took courses on witchcraft and alchemy, things I never would’ve had the opportunity to learn in human society. I shared a dorm with a fellow witch from my classes. Her name was Sunghee. She was what could only be described as text book beauty. She had glowing ginger hair that flowed over her shoulders and large green eyes. Her face was littered with freckles and she was rather slim. To go along with her innocent looks came her witchcraft. She was what humans would describe as a ‘good witch’. She practiced strictly healing and protection magic and had made a pact with herself to never engage in battle. She often spent her days collecting and researching herbs she discovered around campus.

After a long day of classes I was heading back to the dorm. I had what could be described as an infinite amount of homework and I wasn’t exactly excited to lose sleep working on it. As I approached the door I noticed something.

“Hmm? The door is locked? That’s strange. Sunghee usually leaves it open...” I mumbled to myself as I shuffled through my bag, searching for my spare key.

“Maybe she went to the shops for more herbs..”

As I unlocked the door and entered, I was greeted by emptiness. The place was sparkling clean, which was very unusual for Sunghee. She was more like the ‘messily organized’ type so seeing the place so clean was shocking. As I approached the small kitchen table, I noticed a crinkled note taped to the fridge. It read :

‘Hey name! Sorry for the sudden departure but I had some family business to attend to. I’ll probably be back by the end of this quarter. As an apology for leaving so fast I tidied up the place! Also, you don’t have to worry about caring for my plants and such! My friend Hyunjin will be staying here to take care of them! Hopefully you won’t mind!

- xoxo Sunghee ♡︎

“Only Sunghee would do something like this so suddenly and think nothing of it.” I sighed. I guess I had to get used to living with someone else for a while.

“I should really start my homework....I don’t want to be up all night.” I shook my head.

My head had been buzzing with witchcraft and algebra work for what seemed like hours. I was so focused on finishing my work before the clock struck midnight that when a knock on the door sounded through the dorm, I nearly fell out of my chair.

“Who in their right mind would arrive at this hour...” As much as I disliked the idea of talking, I still ran to open the door. As the old wooden door creaked open, the sight behind it almost made me fall over again. Standing at the door was a tall and lanky boy with longer blonde hair tied up in the back. He was beautiful and his perfection was accentuated by the small birthmark under his left check. I couldn’t put a finger on his name but I had definitely seen him before. He was deemed the school’s ‘pretty boy’ from what I could remember.

“Excuse me but what do you need? It’s quite late and I’m not exactly sure what you want from me?” I questioned as I leaned on the door frame in exhaustion.

“Oh hi. You must be name. I’m Sunghee’s ‘childhood friend’ you could say. She asked me stay here for a while to watch over her plants or whatever.” He shrugged as he pushed his hair back. Now that I looked at him closely I noticed he was carrying a large duffel bag packed to the brim.

“You? Stay here? There must be some sort of confusion. I thought a girl by the name of Hyunjin would be staying here?” I blinked in confusion.

“Oh she never explained fully then huh?” He chuckled. “My name’s Hwang Hyunjin. I’m not exactly a girl but I understand your confusion. You were probably thinking of Kim Hyunjin. She’s a girl in the shapeshifter division.” He suffled around awkwardly. “So are you gonna let me in?”

“Hoooold on there. I have no idea who you are! You expect me to just casually share a place with you for months? When I’m just meeting you for the first time now? Plus you’re a werewolf aren’t you? Bold of you to assume I could naturally just trust you!” I was beyond shocked at his audacity.

“Come ooonnn! I’m just tired ok! It wasn’t exactly my idea to stay here. Sunghee kinda sprang it on me this morning.” He sighed once again, rubbing his neck.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? If you’re trying to convince me to stay with some guy I just met than you’re doing a terrible job.” I chided.

“Look, we don’t even have to see each other or talk to each other. Ok? I’m just as unenthusiastic about this as you are but I know Sunghee would skin me alive if I didn’t care for her precious plants.”

I huffed. “I’m honestly too tired to continue with this conversation. Fine you can stay, but you better keep the place sparkling! Pull your weight in chores and maybe I won’t kick you out.” I didn’t plan on caving so easily but I was exhausted and needed sleep. I let the boy inside and then shut myself in my room for the night.

The next few weeks were....rough. Living with a teenage boy was hard enough but with him being a werewolf it was even worse. Despite trying to keep the place clean, everyday the place would be in shambles. He slept on the couch but would often shift to his wolf form while sleeping and ravage the place. Even with his sudden outbursts, Hyunjin did try his best to keep true to his deal. He rarely bothered me and the only time we really had a conversation was when he accidentally ate Sunghee’s herbs and needed information on which ones he should buy in replacement. One thing I did notice about Hyunjin was his habit to get home quite late. I was typically up into the late hours of the night doing homework so I always heard him come home. He would always be panting and out of breath, as if he had been chased back to the dorm. I did wonder what he was up to but I never confronted him about it, that is until one specific time.

It was a dreary Friday night in early October and I was finishing my physics homework for the week. Due to my growing hunger I decided to make some popcorn and maybe watch a movie later. As I was pouring the popcorn in a large bowl, I heard the front door slam open. Hyunjin must’ve been home. I didn’t greet him, as I didn’t typically do so but I could tell something was off by how he was breathing. He was panting much heavier than I had ever heard and seemed to be groaning in pain. I decided to ask what was wrong and finally discover what was happening. When I turned to question him, I was shocked by his appearance.

Standing in the doorway was Hyunjin. He was drenched it what appeared to be a mixture of blood, sweat and rain as it had been storming outside. What shocked me the most were the large scratches and cuts scattered throughout his body. The most noticeable of them were placed near his heart, from which blood seeped into his shirt. He also appeared to have some bruises forming on his face and his nose was bleeding. The last feature I noticed were the pitch black ears and tail that sprouted from his head and lower back. He was in partial wolf form.

“What the hell happened to you?!” I exclaimed. I wasn’t exactly expecting a bloody Hyunjin to walk through the door.

“Uhh....” he spun around, eyes wide in shock. He was like a deer caught in headlights. “I got into a small fight...” He mumbled, scratching his neck awkwardly. He wasn’t expecting me to be home.

“Bullshit! You wouldn’t look like walking road kill if it was just a small fight! Tell me what really happened!” I huffed. I wasn’t usually one to get mad easily but I had been suspicious of Hyunjin for a while and wanted answers.

“Fine...fine... I guess I owe you an explanation at least...” he stumbled forward out of shock and exhaustion. I quickly set the bowl down and went to help him walk to the couch. He was still badly injured.

“Fine but before you explain we better fix your injuries. You may be a werewolf but those wounds are deep. Without treatment they could get infected.” I quickly jogged into Sunghee’s room to fetch a first aid kit.

“Unlike Sunghee, I’m not a herbs and healing witch. I’ll have to patch you up the old fashion way.” I snickered. This would’ve been a lot easier with Sunghee.

“Fine, just get it over with.” Hyunjin sighed. I could still sense his distress from his previous experience.

I started with the cuts on his face. I washed them with a damp cloth followed by alcohol wipes. Hyunjin cringed in pain. I placed small bandages over the wounds and moved on to his chest. As embarrassing as it was, I was forced to lift up his shirt to access the scratches. Any other day the blonde would of teased me for being shy but he was currently in too much distress to do so. The wounds were deep but just shallow enough to not need stitches. I applied the same treatment as I did with his face but used a wrap of bandage instead.

“Ok Hwang, explain.” I crossed my arms as I huffed.

“Fine, fine.” He shuffled in his seat, cringing in pain as he felt his injuries stretch.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I got into a fight, but it was definitely more serious than usual. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now but I usually get home late and after a run in with some not so great people. They’re a group of vampires and shapeshifters that are a part of my gym class. I do excessively well in that class and I guess they were jealous of that so that’s why they first approached me. They wanted to ‘knock me down a peg’ and put me back in my place. It probably would’ve ended there but I’m so terrible at controlling my wolf form that I snarled at them. They chased me home after that. The past few weeks I’ve tried to avoid them, more for their safety than mine. I would sprint home each day in hopes of not starting any drama. Today was the one day I didn’t run home and those punks took advantage of it. They picked a fight with me and out of exhaustion I partially turned and swiped at them. They were pissed. My accidental turning led to them ‘beating me up’ except I was far stronger and managed to do more damage.”

“Wow.” Despite my suspicion I was still a bit shocked to hear the whole story. “I never would have pictured your lazy ass to be a fighter Hyunjin..” I chuckled. “That’s hilarious.” I subtly laughed into my hand. My exhaustion combined with the fact that Hyunjin ran away out of embarrassment made the situation seem hilarious to me.

“Don’t laugh! Hey! I try to keep the place clean! I do my best!” He chided, dramatically waving his hands around in exasperation. Now that I focused on him I realized he was still half turned.

“Hyunjin..” I giggled “You dumbass! Your ears are still out! Can you even tell?!” At my examination he quickly slammed his hands against his head, feeling that his ears were in fact still showing.

“Dammit! I swear these things have a mind of their own! If it weren’t for these dumb ears, I could’ve avoided all that drama!” He groaned as he tried to push his ears back into his head. I giggled and rolled my eyes. “You really do suck at controlling your wolf! As much as it pains me maybe I could help you out?” I stifled my laughter as I wanted Hyunjin to take me seriously. “Oh really? And how do you plan to do that?” He questioned, tilting his head to the side like a lost puppy. “I’m part witch! don’t you remember? I could make you something that can help you control your wolf better! For the time being I can cast a spell on you to alter your appearance! I’d have to be with you during school though...” I mumbled. Despite being ‘roommates’ I didn’t consider us to be close friends

“You’d really do that for me? Ya know you’re a lot cooler than you let on.” He chuckled.

“Hey!”

“Could you maybe tutor me while your at it?”

“Don’t push your luck, pretty boy!”

Over the next few months, Hyunjin and I spent a lot more time together. Initially it came as a shock to the rest of the school. He was a werewolf and I was part vampire, both species that had strongly disliked each other for years. Along with this, the blonde was far more popular than I was. I was more the ‘nerdy witch’ type, who’s only care was grades. Despite all our differences, we got along extremely well. Someone who had never met use before would’ve thought we had been friends for years or even lovers. Due to our tight knit relationship, it was a common task to deny relationship rumors. As promised I did start working on a formula that would help Hyunjin with his transformations. For the time being, I simply cast an illusion spell on him each morning and would check with him throughout the day to assure it was still in effect. Throughout my growing relationship with the boy, I began to feel confused. I felt strong emotions for him, emotions I had never felt before and didn’t understand. I finally figured them out when on the phone with Sunghee. As I described to her my new found friendship with Hyunjin and how much I wanted to hang out with him, Sunghee pieced together that I must’ve liked him , or in her words had a ‘crush’. I immediately dismissed the idea, but over the following week I noticed just how much I liked his company. There was no other way to explain it. Thankfully it didn’t appear to hinder our friendship at the time so I simply pushed the thoughts to the back back of my head.

Currently it was approaching the end of October meaning both finals for that semester and Halloween were in the upcoming week. Hyunjin was stressed to say the least. Despite all the tutoring I gave him, he was still adamant on needing my help to prepare. I decided to make a deal with him. For my witchcraft class I had a final project which required a non-witch partner. If he agreed to do the project with me I could tutor him again for free.

“Wait so what is this project again?” Hyunjin questioned as he took a bite out of pumpkin pie. We were sitting in the kitchen discussing our study plans for that week.

“Well it’s for my witchcraft class, it’s my final project. I need a non-witch partner and I thought you’d be perfect for for it!” I chided, throwing my arm over his shoulder.

“The premise of the project is to develop the three main elements of witchcraft through a secret mission into human territory-“

“What?” His eyes widened in shock as he choked on the pie he was practically inhaling. I patted his back to help with his coughs. He sighed and wiped his mouth. “What do you mean human territory?! It suuuuper dangerous over there! How could they assign that as a school project?!” He was surprised to say the least.

“Look Hyunjin I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not like I didn’t live half of my life surrounded by humans. Just because you’re some rich prince boy who has never seen a human in their life doesn’t give you the excuse to back out on me now.” I sighed as I rubbed my temples.

“The majority of humans are pretty chill. They won’t notice anything if we keep a low profile. All we need to do is collect an item for each element of witchcraft, that’s three in total. We’ll be in and out of there in no time!”

“Ughh... As much as I hate the idea of us walking directly into danger, I can’t afford to fail this test. Plus with all the things you’ve done for me, I think I owe you one.” He chuckled.

“Then that’s settled! Well leave tomorrow!” I clapped my hands together. “Better start packing Hwang!” I shouted as I dashed to my room.

That night I packed the necessities I would need for the small trip. I packed a map, money, a change of clothes, water, snacks, and some tools for spell-craft. Hyunjin and I were to be disguised as travelers who were stopping at the nearest town for some materials. The disguise had to be convincing so I told Hyunjin to wear old, battered clothes and bring nothing too flashy. The only downside to this town was their utter fear of supernatural beings. Many humans could care less but for some this fear had evolved into hatred. If any supernaturals were discovered in or near the town, they would most likely be executed on the spot. In order to keep our cover from being blown, I could not risk the use of the spell I typically used on Hyunjin. He questioned me about it before leaving.

“Wait! What about the spell? You know I still suck at control right?” He questioned, lugging his tan backpack from his bedroom.

“I can’t risk anyone noticing. You’ll have to survive without it for one day. Just wear a hoodie or something to cover your ears if they happen to appear.” He nodded, nervous as ever. “Don’t worry it’ll be fine!” I smiled. “Let’s get going.

The beginning of the project went perfectly. We were able to slip into the town with few people noticing our presence. For the grade, I needed to collect three objects to represent the three elements of witchcraft : defense, offense and recovery. The recovery object was the easiest so we decided to gather that item first. We stopped at a small tea and herb shop, which they surprisingly had, and I bought multiple bags of herbal tea along with healing incense. We did get some strange looks in the store but nothing crazy, they probably weren’t used to teenagers visiting a dusty shop like that. Next was defense. It seemed easy enough. Hyunjin suggested we buy a plank of strongly crafted wood and have it shaped into a shield. He went and gathered that part of the project while I purchased solvents from a scientist that I could use in defense spells. The final element was definitely the most difficult. Offense or in short, something that could kill. Sure we could’ve found a sharp stick or snatched a spear from some old museum but those wouldn’t get me a good grade. I needed something special.

“Hey Look! A weaponry shop! That’s exactly what we’re looking for I chided, pulling him behind me by his sweatshirt sleeve. “We can probably get a gun or something here...” I mumbled. As we entered the small shop we were greeted by an old man. He didn’t say anything directed towards us but a simple ‘Welcome. Shout if you need help’.

“Let’s go quick Hyunjin. I wanna get out of here as soon as possible.” I whispered to the boy as I signaled him to follow me into the store.

“Okay, okay. What do you want me to look for?” He whispered back.

“Find a dagger or knife of sorts, I’ll find a small handgun. Don’t buy anything too gaudy though, we don’t wanna draw attention on the way out.” I walked to the back of the store that was labeled as the gun section. I picked out two small handguns along with a couple packs of ammunition, keeping in mind how they would fit in my pack. I quickly met Hyunjin at the front counter. He had picked out a dark green Swiss Army knife along with what appeared to be a hunters knife. If the store owner didn’t walk out at that moment, we probably would’ve slipped out without paying.

“Hello! Is this all you want today?” He questioned. We both nodded placing the weapons on the counter. He wrapped the items lightly then packed them into a small bag. He handed the bag to Hyunjin as I shuffled through my bag for cash.

“Why you both look pretty young! You wouldn’t mind showing me your weapons license by any chance right?”

Shit. I didn’t think of that. I shuffled through my bag in despair.

“Umm you see sir I think I must’ve lost it while traveling....” I rubbed my neck, hoping he would buy my childish lie.

“I’m sorry but I need to see it in order for you to buy these weapons miss.” He smiled, an eerie smile at that.

“I’m so sorry sir but I can’t find it....” I awkwardly smiled back.

“Well then missy, you’ll have to give those back!” He reached and grabbed at the bag which Hyunjin had handed to me. Out of instinct I pulled it back towards me, effectively loosing my balance and stumbling back into the blonde. It didn’t take long for us to trip over each other and fall to the floor.

“You...you monsters! I knew something was up with you!” The man at the front screeched, flailing his arms about wildly. I furrowed my brows in confusion. It made sense when I finally caught sight of the boy beside me. The fall had effectively knocked the hood of his head and thanks to our luck, his ears were out on full display. We were screwed.

“Dammit Hyunjin!” I yelled throwing myself up from the floor and grabbing at him to get up. “Time to run!” Finally grasping the situation, the blonde sprang up from the floor and dashed out the door beside me. As we sprinted through the city, we heard what sounded like gunshots. I assumed they were signal flares, something to notify the people that supernaturals were there. It didn’t take long before a group of crazed humans were chasing after us with spears and guns. Just as the gunshots began to sound, I managed to put up a protective barrier around us.

“Hyunjin we gotta get out of here as fast as we can! We can’t risk dying or letting them know the school’s location!” I huffed. Running was hard. “I can only keep this barrier up for so long! Do you have any ideas?” I desperately shouted as we made a mad dash away from the town. His eyes seemed to sparkle in excitement at me asking for his help. He had an idea.

“You might not like this idea but I think it could work!” He shouted back.

“What is it?”

“I’m gonna need you to trust me fully! On the count of three, I’ll transform into full wolf form and run out of here with you on my back! There’s no way they could catch up to us!” He panted, his golden eyes shimmering in the sunlight.

“You’re really crazy sometimes Hwang, but this time I’m willing to trust you! Just don’t let us get killed ok?!”

“Alright it’ll take me a minute to transform fully! If you can hold up this barrier for that long we should be fine!”

“Alright!” We stopped suddenly. I closed my eyes in concentration as I chanted the spell for the protective barrier. As I did so, Hyunjin transformed into a beautiful, sleek black wolf.

‘Hop on!’ I heard him speak to me through subconscious thoughts. It didn’t take another word from him for me to swing my legs over his back and latch onto his fur. “Go Hyunjin!” I shouted, causing the wolf to sprint forwards, almost three times as fast as the pace we were previously at.

We ran for what seemed like years. The sounds of gunshots and angry shouts seemed to fade into the distance long ago. We had lost them. Upon passing the school gates, we both collapsed on a grassy area, Hyunjin returning to his human form. I rolled onto the ground in exhaustion. I wasn’t exactly the ‘athletic type’ and that amount of exercise was painful. I chuckled as I saw Hyunjin collapse beside me.

“What are you laughing at?!” He jeered.

“Heh, at least we didn’t die! Now you won’t fail your finals since you are guaranteed my help in studying! Aren’t you happy about that?” I chuckled again.

“Ignoring the fact that we almost died, that was the most fun I’ve had in years! Who would’ve though you to be my best friend-“ I was cut off by the sensation of warm lips against mine. Hyunjin was kissing me. I could feel my face heat up but I kissed back. His feelings were clearly reciprocated. Upon breaking the kiss, I faced away for, him and covered my face in embarrassment.

“Huh? Is that the great and fabulous name being shy at a simple kiss? You’re so weak!” He laughed as he rubbed his face against my neck, similar to how an animal would treat its mate. I chuckled. Two could play at that game. I faced him again.

“Is the great, dumb wolf Hyunjin in love with me?” I smirked as I saw the slight blush bubble up on his cheeks.

“Well maybe I am!” He chided. I smiled

“Well maybe I love you too.”

AN: This was from Halloween buuuttt imma post it now cuz y not 😗. Also I watched the Skz concert this weekend and it was AMAZING. I am currently still in post concert depression buttt maybe I’ll have some motivation to write again soon! Peace out ✌🏼

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Full Moon (A White Demon’s Love Song, Part 7.)

Series description: A new job was the reason you found yourself on a lonely road trip on the western coast, ending up in the woods of the Olympian Peninsula. Yet a sudden car malfunction was what cause your unplanned stay in Forks. To your surprise, there was a lot of sinister things going on under the veil of fog.

Part Summary: As the relationship between you and the grumpy shapeshifter finally moved on to the better ground, you knew you were now in the position to ask to see more of the magic that Quilete people could do.

A/N: Okay, okay, okay. I'm back and... Let's get this bad boy running, shall we?

Tagging: @missdictatorme​

Word count: 4.6 K

Twilight playlist: ✨ Twilight Crackheads ✨

Series masterlist: H E R E

Jacob sat there in dead silence for a moment, before he looked back at you, just sitting there, chewing the meat and staring at him with a small smile. - "Are you sure that you're in the right headspace? We can talk about this later if you want." - At that, you furrowed. You've asked him to show you the wolf again. Okay, maybe, you've been making a fairground attraction out of his abilities and you weren't afraid to tell it out loud, but you wanted to see the animal again. You were curious about seeing it. - "What are you after?" - You mumbled, taking another bite from your almost cold meal. Dear Lord, you've been sitting at the table for more than half an hour. - "You've hit your head, had a panic attack, fainted twice, and even though, you want to see it again. Don't you have any sort of self-preservation instinct? Or do you just find it exciting to have your life threatened all the time?"

It was played out as a joke and you both grinned, you even let out a small laugh... But it was just reminding Jacob of her. How excited she was to discover the werewolves, that she was fond of learning more about them - more so, there was a short fascination phase. Funny, how things sometimes replayed the exact way it was before. - "Hey, look at it from my perspective. I've been living my whole life listening to fairytales and legends, myths, stories... And now, I've learned that some of them are real. Of course, I want to see it again." - "It's not a magic trick. It's who I am, Y/N." - Jacob looked you dead in the eyes to scare you off a bit, but it hadn't made you even flinch. - "And I do respect that, Jacob." - It was just a whisper, but the five words meant a whole lot.

You were telling him that you're respecting this side of him and that you're not scared anymore. Well, that you're not scared of him, more so - which was fair, there was something way more malicious to be scared of. The cold ones, knowns also as the fricking vam-pi-res which you still couldn't say out loud. And now, it was your conflict as well, whether you wanted to take part in it or not. You were there and you should accommodate real fast, or it's going to cost a lot more than a slight concussion, two faintings, and obviously, making yourself an idiot out of yourself in front of fucking everyone. Which made you furrow. - "How do you even know I fainted twice and that I was acting like an idiot? You weren't here - Seth was with me the whole time." - "It's going to get crazier than it already is... Do you want me to answer this one?" - Jacob furrowed and you nodded. - "Are you sure?" - He asked once more. Again, you nodded

Maybe you thought that you're going crazy, Jacob couldn't tell what was going through that head of yours. So far, it seemed that not that much was going on there. And so, he went for it. - "We can see, hear, and feel our thoughts. The members of the pack a 24/7 access to every thought that has ever gone through your head, every feeling that went through... They can see everything. It's very uncomfortable and scary - but that's how I know what was happening here." - "Like all the time?" - "No, only when we shift and the person shifts around the same time." - Wow. How many boobies did the werewolves have to see? How much of the action... Did they see? Sex was the last appropriate thought in a situation like this one - but it was the most natural one.

Once more, your face was looking like a frozen Windows XP program as you thought about all the dirty secrets they knew about eating others... Well, there weren't any dirty secrets if they simply saw all of them, huh? That was one of the most fucked up things you've heard until that day. - "And can you like... Not share with them?" - You wondered after at least two-minutes-lasting silence. - "When you're good at playing mind games or you're a total asshole, constantly thinking about something unpleasant, theoretically, you can hide some of your memories... But trust me, we've been in each other's heads for enough of a long time. Mind games start to bore you to death after some time." - "But it's better than seeing someone bending Betty from the gas station over a table, ain't it? I'm sorry, but I can't stand the bare thought of seeing my friends... Doing stuff. Yuck." - At that, Jacob snickered - which fluidly translated to a burst of happy laughter. - "I'm talking years of being in each other's heads. Not just... Weeks or months. No matter how hard you'd try to conceal everything, there's always a small moment of vulnerability, which can tell others everything, especially when you imprint. Then you don't care about how the miserable singles perceive your all-day projection of a happy relationship." - Jacob mumbled then, his expression coldening at the end of his statement.

Again, there was this hint of sadness and the other Jacob taking over the wheel, steering the ship for now. Yet now, you were to jump straight into the sadness. - "Come again? Imprinting? And what's that about?" - You asked, reminding him that most of this is all news for you. You've never been inside the consciousness of the pack - you never saw Quil constantly gushing over his precious Claire, or before, you couldn't hear Sam thinking of Emily. At the start, it was sweet, but occasionally, it started to feel like flexing on the members who hadn't found the one yet. - "That's another form of slavery we, as the werewolves, participate in." - Jacob tried to joke around, but the tone of his voice gave him in. - "Okay, I'm ready to hear about that."

It wasn't making Jacob easy to talk about the imprinting, trying to explain it to someone - again. But he did. He talked about endless love where the wolf had no choice but to listen to the damn calling of his imprintee. He couldn't leave, he couldn't just stop loving them, the wolves had no choice in this matter. It was one of the most unfair and disgusting, weird things you've heard about that evening. But it made you think... Maybe this was why Jacob was so sour about Bella all the time. He imprinted - and she just let his trust go, becoming a vampire. She let him suffer, alone and unwanted. - "Did it..." - "No." - Jacob answered before you've even finished your question. So that wasn't what happened either - but you were positive that something similar to it had happened. The idea simply haunted you - how would it feel to fall for someone without choosing to do so? Without any reasoning?

On the other hand, it must've been extremely freeing. Not to think about doing right and wrong, just to do as your head tells you to - to love, admire and care for a person until the point it almost kills you, not to put yourself and your feelings in the first place... Damn. It had pros and cons. - "Okay." - You said when you've settled all the ideas inside your head. - "When we'll be doing it? I mean, when you're going to show me?" - Well, you certainly weren't fucking around. There was no question about IF Jake's going to show you, the question asked was starting with WHEN. On one hand, you've had the right to know more about it. On the other hand, it was none of your fucking business - especially with the vampires lurking around Forks.

And as usual for Jacob, he chooses the less logical solution. - "Tonight. I have a watch over the Ozette lake and I'm supposed to be alone there. Also, it's not probable for the leeches to track us out there." - Jacob was never the best with making good decisions, that was the first thing going on there. The second matter was that Jacob was sure you'd follow him into the woods - and if you'd drop dead again, Seth couldn't be the prince to rescue this time. The third thing about this situation was that it would be most likely the best solution, for a few days, to stick with one of the wolves. The trackers hadn't come across the few drops you've let in the forest when you banged your forehead into a damn root - they'd surely soon do so since it was quite smelly.

Now, when you were on board with everything, it also wasn't so crazy to ask you about borrowing a t-shirt from you. Sure, other boys and mainly Sam won't be too happy with how much did Jacob tell you - yet it was better than you walking around without having any clue. He could leave out some parts, for sure, but why would he do so? He was in a fucking shitty situation - no way in hell would he be pretending that everything on the planet is a-ok. - "Okay." - You chimed happily. Suddenly, you whipped folds with papers on the table, working as you ate the last crumpets on your plate. - "Also, there's this one problem." - "The money doesn't add up? " - Jacob asked back, his eyes glued to the TV. - "No, I'm just almost done with all the papers I was able to find there. You don't have the business for too long, do you?

At this, another bit of the conversation was started - Jacob told you how he got the old workshop from a mechanic who was too old to keep up. Of course, he paid something for the business, but it was more of a symbolic amount of money than a huge sum. Jacob also started to keep the record about all the gigs he has taken since he started to work as the new mechanic; yet despite his best tries, he was a messy person - your help was heavily appreciated in this field. This start-up was just what Jacob needed to leave La Push. He was still spending some time at the weekend in there with his dad, Seth, and his other friends, but now, he was trying to get through life on his own.

He dreamt about going on a vacation to somewhere where it's always sunny and warm, but he was still saving up for the dreamy trip of his life. Which, as you guessed, wasn't going too well. Jacob, being the good-willed idiot, was trying to help the needy people who couldn't afford to pay that much for a mechanic and there was a lot of small amounts of money he just... Let go. Just like with you, with Mrs. Peterson, and a ton of other people. So... He was most likely to spend his whole damn life in Forks. - "Yeah, but I mean... I will be done soon. What should I do when all the papers are sorted?" - You asked when the story was ended. - "Well, since you still have a debt, you might as well help me with the gigs, I suppose. Tomorrow, I have one in Sappho and then two cars in La Push, I think. And a routine check-up at the station... And then your car." - Jacob started to count on his fingers, naming every gig he had written into his calendar. - "I don't know anything about cars. And you've told me that you're gonna do something to me if I even get close to one of your cars. The cars don't like me either, just to let you know." - At that, Jacob laughed into the back of his palm. - "I'll be there and I'll show you your way around the cars, I swear. You won't be letting anyone's car blow up on my watch." - And there, it was the start of something so-called a friendship.

As Jacob promised, it could be around 8 p.m. as you both climbed into the tank he called a car. He made sure you've made yourself some hot tea and put it into a Thermo cup, some food, he so made you take your jacket and his raincoat just to be sure you won't feel cold. The whole ride to the unknown was quiet, yet in a nice way. You've been shifting on your seat expectedly, watching your surroundings. There were woods as far as you could see, nothing but deep and dark woods. Suddenly, Jacob turned off the engine and looked at you. You've been in the middle of literal nowhere, yet Jacob was sure you're just where you've been supposed to be. - "Well, come on, we're here." - The man smiled sadly. He was playing out the worst scenarios inside his mind for the last ten minutes and he was just praying you wouldn't fain when he'd show his wolf form to you. - "We'll be walking for half an hour," - "In this pitch-black night? Are you out of your mind?" - At that weak argument, Jacob snickered quite happily.

"I forgot you can't see that well in the dark." - The man scratched the nape of his neck as he looked around. - "But you'll be just fine, trust me. Let's go." - With a quite loud clap, he ventured to the forest head first, not waiting for what you wanted to do. Unexpectedly, you stood still at the trunk of his car while the wildest thoughts raced through your mind. That man told you, just mere hours ago, that there are vam-pi-res somewhere in the woods and now he wanted you to wander somewhere behind him, orienting only through the sounds of his heavy footsteps... Jacob was surely half-insane, you were one hundred percent sure of that. Suddenly, said crazy man popped his head on the other side of the trunk, making you squirm in fear. First, you ducked and tried to hide, but then, your mind clicked as your brain realized it's only Jacob

"Holy mother of shit." - The curse made Jacob grin, but he didn't say a single word as he leaned his elbows to the sides of the said trunk. - "I swear to God that I'll have a heart attack if you keep fucking around with me. You scared me to death."

"What are you so scared about? I've heard everyone looks better in the dark, Y/N, which makes me the best looking man in all of the Forks and La Push." - At that argument, a wide grin appeared on your face. Sure, you still were a bit tense, but as of now, Jacob's presence was calming you down... Which was a thing you thought you'd never say out loud. In the end, he was one grumpy and scary package. As of now, he was tall as a mountain and pretty well-built as far as you could judge; said man could also turn into a wolf at will, so it was a win-win situation. You had to be safe with him even if you didn't want to. - "Debatable." - It was not much more than a silent mumble when you answered Jacob. - "Come on. Don't be a sissy, nothing bad can happen to you. I can't smell anything inhuman in here. You're safe."

To be absolutely exact, Jacob couldn't smell anything other than you. Not that you'd be smelly or smelling funny, your smell was just outrageously strong, even in an opened, windy space. But he was sure that if any leech would be lurking around, he'd either see or smell them. - "Sissy?" - Was the answer you came up with, leaving the safe space behind the trunk. With never-before-seen confidence, you walked up to the edge of the woods, quite literally pulling your sleeves up in the process. - "You called me a sissy? Well, young man, you just outdo yourself. I'm no sissy." - And just like that, you stumbled to the pitch-black dark forest, walking a few steps forward between mossy, cold trees. At first, you still knew Jake's right behind to watch each of the steps you made, yet as the time passed by, the silence was growing louder and louder.

You've made it a few feet into the woods before you realized that you, in fact, were a total sissy. As you walked out of the edge again, you could now see Jacob resting his back on the side of his car, watching you with a small, daring smile. - "I gave you a minute before you walk back out. You impressed me with your time of a minute and fifteen seconds." - "Oh, fuck off. A forest is a freaky place when you can't see even a foot away from you. I almost hit a tree with my forehead." - With a sigh, you caught the straps of your backpack in your palms and looked at him. - "Well, lucky for you, I have a plan B."

First, you didn't know what he was doing - the man kneeled in front of you while showing you his back, waiting for you to do something. What you were supposed to do was in no way clear to you, to be honest. - "Are you climbing on it or not?" - Jacob asked impatiently after almost a minute of getting his knees wet. Were you doing... What? What did the man just ask you to do? To climb on his back? Well, who were you not to deliver?

With all the concentration you had in you and with the best skill you could have while wearing two thick jackets, you climbed on his back, making sure you were holding to his shoulders as firmly as you could. At first, it seemed to be working - with little to no actual force, Jacob walked at least half a mile with you on his back. The only problem was your ass slowly slipping down with each step he took. And suddenly...

"Oh, loca. Did you hurt yourself?" - As soon as Jacob heard a loud wet thud, he knew you've fallen directly on your ass. Yeah, it did hurt a little, but it was nothing you wouldn't walk off pretty easily. - "No, I think I'm good, it's basically nothing." - A mutter along with a sharp curse word left your lips as you tried to pick yourself hard. And you needed to say that it wasn't the easiest task when you couldn't see more than one and a half feet from you. Jacob watched you trying to find a tree nearby with a smirk on his face before he actually bowed down and made sure to pick you up bridal style.

"I can walk on my own, Jesus Christ, Black! I'm heavy!" - A quiet squirm hit Jacob's ears as he started running with you in his arms as if you were nothing but air. Even though you started to wiggle a bit to show you're not consenting to be carried, the man could hear your heart slowly calming down. Just like that, you felt very safe. - "We can talk about that once you start walking properly. You women really need to work on your marches, let me tell you that." - Jacob answered while making his way forward as if you weren't even there. - "It's hard to walk when you can't see for your dear life." - Was the last mutter you left out before curling up closer to the warmth he radiated as you tried to find a better position for yourself to relieve both him and you.

Jacob remembered the forest trail to lake Ozette from the back of his head. During the day, the place could be lovely when any leeches were around - it was a huge body of water laying as far as an eye could see, some shores were beachy, some of them were covered in reeds. When the summer was warm enough, it was one of Jake's favorite spots to take a swim at along with the boys, especially when they decided they are bored of cliff diving for now. As he thought about that, there were many beautiful spots around Washington the guides didn't talk about and which you definitely had to see for yourself - just like that one meadow high up in the mountains, or the canyon cutting the edge between Quileute and Cullen territory. There was just something simply magical about these spots.

It took him a moment to form the right kind of sentence before he started talking. Which, let's be honest, kinda freaked you out - the man was running around a pitch-black forest with you in his arms and nothing more than jean shorts and a plain t-shirt on, barefoot, let you add and he still found to breath to talk to you amidst all of that. - "You know, if we survive all of this in good health..." - Jacob started carefully. It was meant as a joke, but seeing your eyes widen in horror made him realize this wasn't funny to you. - "I mean, when all this is over, because, we will destroy those leeches and that's a promise, I think I have some secret spots for you that you might want to see." - "But... What about my car? Won't it be long repaired by then?" - Ouch. It was a good question, but it hurt the good-hearted Jacob right in the feels; this time, the mean, grumpy guy wasn't in charge.

Yes, he should focus on repairing your car as quickly as he was capable of just to get you out of Forks for good. As a reward, he wouldn't feel the heavy responsibility for another human being who was fully dependant on him and his pack in this scenario. On the other hand... - "What if we don't get the right parts, huh? I think you should start to prepare for prolonging your stay in Forks and by all means, you should find yourself a good part-time job. Newtons always look for a part-time worker." - Even if you could see just a sheer glimpse of his teeth, you knew he was basically smiling from ear to ear.

"Jacob Black, you're one of the best mechanics I've seen," - Wow. That was a huge compliment. Yet, then the second part of the sentence came to play and it ruined the nice thing completely. - "Truth is, I have seen like... One mechanic working. But you seem to be great at what you're doing and with your love for classic cars, there's no way in hell you wouldn't get my Beetle working." - "You meant do say the wreck, didn't you?" - "Oh, fuck you. No more compliments for you, you get cocky too easily." - To keep you in the headspace of winning that small quarrel, Jacob didn't say a word throughout the rest of the way. It wasn't much longer a mere five minutes later when something very bright hit your eyes.

Oh, it was the moon. It made sense - no clouds were in the sky, it was clear and you've also been miles away from the nearest small town. Here, as it reflected in the masses of water, the moon looked as big as never before. When Jacob put you down, you didn't wait for a signal that the proximity of Ozette if vam-pi-re free and just walked to the meadow surrounding it. As it was to be expected, it was cold as hell - there was a huge mass of water in front of you and the wind was blowing; yet your eyes were basically glued to the big, grey, shiny ball on the sky. - "I told you there are some secret spots you might enjoy." - Black grinned as he pressed something to your hand. At first, you just nodded with your mouth opened as you were unable to look away, yet as soon as you realized you're holding a piece of cloth, it hit you - Jacob walk walking back to the edge of the forest's edge, unzipping his jean shorts. It was happening.

With a soft thud, you took down your backpack and turned head first towards the spot the man disappeared at. Nothing more than a splashing of water and soft howling of the wind could be heard, yet you knew exactly what was happening. And when it happened, the sound reminded you of a quiet, strange explosion, you knew that this time, you've been perfectly prepared for what was waiting for you hidden just ten feet away from the nearest tree.

This time, when you saw it, you hadn't fainted. In fact, you stood perfectly still and watched the majestic animals slowly walking towards you.

[lovemalecforever]

Chapter 12

Family isn't always blood

Alec looked at his Parabatai then to his sister then to him again and sighed heavily before speaking. "Because there is something I want to talk about which needs all of your presence."

"Excuse me!?" Jace exclaimed, "Alec, I can feel your nervousness, what is going on? You're making me scared buddy, we almost lost yo-"

"Jace, calm down. I'll tell you when everyone will be here, and it's nothing bad, okay?"

Even after the reassurance, Jace was still not convinced. He could feel how scared and nervous Alec was through their bond. There were so many probabilities running through his mind, minding that Magnus wasn't there with him when that man never leaves his brother alone.

"Jace, stop. I can literally feel you getting stressed up, I told you, Jace, it's nothing, just... wait for a while."

Jace sighed and nodded. He had met his Parabatai, his brother after a long time, and making him upset or angry was the last thing he wanted. "Sorry Alec, but really, you told Izzy that you're coming but not me? Seriously? Am I not important to you anymore?" he dramatically put his hand over his chest. "You have hurt me, dude."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Stop being overdramatic, Jace. Besides, the look on your face told me that it was worth it."

"Boyzzz!" Izzy interrupted, shaking her head at her brothers for their silliness. "So, big brother, whom do you want to meet first, Clary or Simon?" Out of everyone, Izzy knew really well that Alec considers them family now, remembering the fact that he admitted it when she and Simon visited him.

"It's been long I've seen nugget in training mode. I would like to see her training and meanwhile, tell Simon to come here, I want to talk to you both privately before talking to everyone else."

"What the hell!? Alec, First, stop giving my girlfriend these stupid nicknames, and second what are you guys are up to?"

"Jace, stop." Izzy spoke firmly, "Don't bombard our brother with questions, he just arrived. And, besides, I want to see how Clary's doing so can we move now?"

"Fine, let's go." Jace sighed, and they left for the training room.

While heading towards the training room, Alec didn't miss the changes that had been made at the Institute, especially the weapons room. He knew he made the right decision to make his sister the Head of the Institute when he accepted the post of Inquisitor at Alicante, and she's doing a brilliant job. He couldn't help but feel proud of his sister.

It's been around an hour since Clary started her training, her hair was tied up in a ponytail, she was wearing a perfectly fitted navy blue sports bra with red stripes on it, the back having cross straps with blue-grey yoga pants and red and blue colored sports shoes. Her hands were wrapped in boxing bandages, blowing punches and kicks to the punching bag, which had now started to tear.

"Slow down Parabatai, looks like you're having a bad day, or did you not get it last night, huh?" Izzy teased as she walked towards her soon-to-be Parabatai, a smirk playing on her face, and Jace's face flushed.

"Izzy, Hey!" Clary greeted then held the towel that Izzy offered her. "And to answer your question, both. Bad day because Jace was being an idiot last night, and this morning too." She said, making Izzy burst into laughter.

"Really Clary, discussing our sex life with my sister!? Not appreciated!" Jace said as he walked in.

"She's my best friend, Herondale. I can discuss whatever I want." Clary shrugged and snatched the water bottle that he offered her.

"Oops! Looks like someone screwed up badly." Izzy said while suppressing her laugh, earning a glare from Jace.

Clary almost choked on the water she was drinking and dropped the bottle on the floor in the process when her eyes fell on the third person present in that room, standing by the door frame.

"ALEC!"

"Hello, Carrot!" Alec walked in and laughed when she literally jumped on him. "Get down, carrot, you're drenched in sweat."

"Really! Carrot, Carrot!? Seriously, Alec, I told you to stop giving her names, don't you-"

"I find it cute," Clary said, interrupting her boyfriend and making him dumbfounded. "Alec, when did you come? And where's Magnus?" She asked when her excitement died down and was back on her feet.

"Just now, and Magnus didn't come, I had some work."

"Okay, now I'm jealous, what had Simon done, big brother? Jace? Why do you both treat him like that?" Izzy pouted.

"I like him, but that vampire gets under my skin sometimes. No offense, Izzy." Jace said flatly.

"Izzy, Simon had done nothing, you know I like him, I just don't feel like being like that around him. There's nothing else." Alec reassured, making her sigh.

Izzy's phone buzzed, breaking their chain of conversation. She picked it up to check the message. "It's Si, he'll be here in some time. Your room or my office?" She asked.

"In my room," Alec answered while Jace and Clary kept glancing between the siblings. "I'll tell you both later."

Clary nodded. "I'm going to get a shower, see you later, Alec." With that, she picked up her stuff and left the hall.

"Wait, Clary! Excuse me!" Jace said hurried after his girlfriend leaving the other two laughing at their situation.

"It's good to have her back, you know," Izzy said when they both left the room. "Jace is a different person now, and happier too."

"I know. I can feel it. I'm happy for him, he deserves this. Looking back at how broken he was 3 years ago, I'm really happy that Clary got her memories back. They didn't deserve what happened 5 years ago."

"What's wrong!?" She asked when she noticed an unknown expression clouding her brother's face.

"Izzy, promise me you won't tell Jace what I'm about to say, else I won't hear the end of it."

Izzy raised her brow but eventually nodded.

"You know how much I used to hate Clary when she first came into our lives, she's still annoying, but looking at her now, at them, they are meant for each other, they complete each other. And I'm really happy that they found each other, all over again." He said, having a bright smile on his face.

"You're right, big brother. Jace will never stop teasing you if he'll hear what you just said. And, I agree, they are meant for each other."

Clary came back to their lives almost two and a half years ago. It took her almost a year and a half after meeting Jace at her painting exhibition to regain her memories of the shadow world. When she remembered Jace at the alley of the building where her exhibition was held, Jace frequented their meetings in the hope that she'd remember everything but hid it from everyone else. That was until Simon found out and confronted him, in the process bumping into her becoming the second person she remembered.

Clary always had an empty space in her heart, a void, which kept telling her that something was missing. That was until she met Jace, and she knew that she knew him from somewhere. There were bits and pieces in her mind of a club, bike riding, or some similar events, but they were never complete.

When both boys told everyone about Clary, it was Magnus who advised them to take things slow and not rush her memories. She met everyone, remembered them one by one, Luke being the third one, then Jocelyn, followed by the incomplete memory of her death, which resulted in regaining her memories at a great pace.

What broke the floodgates of her memories was when Jace and Clary were returning from their date, and they were attacked by a shapeshifting demon, which Clary killed with complete ease, shocked at first, but the sudden appearance and disappearance of her runes made her remember that she's a Shadowhunter.

The most beautiful thing which happened between all this was Clary fell in love with Jace all over again, oblivious about their past and Jace's feelings, making him the happiest person in the universe.

When she remembered everything, and stepped into the institute once again, and got all her runes back, she was visited by her mother's soul once again telling her that the Angels had forgiven her, she still has her extra share of powers, but she needs to be careful this time and not repeat the mistakes she made in the past. From that time on she became a completely new person. Better than before, more fierce, stronger, but still stubborn, annoying, and irritating at times.

The most epic thing to happen was Alec and Clary's relationship. From hating each other to frenemies to friends to a weird brother-sister relationship, they came a long way. The bitter comments Alec used to make about her were now more of teasing and mocking in a good way. They had started understanding each other, making everyone around them shocked with their bonding.

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

Simon was already pacing in Alec's room when Izzy and Alec entered, making Alec sigh out of frustration. "Stop digging holes in my carpet, Lewis," Alec commented.

"Really!?"

"Boys!" Izzy shook her head. "I can't with you people!" She mumbled, then turned towards her brother. "So, what did you find Alec?"

"Everything!" He answered and explained to them the complete process of becoming immortal. When he was done both of their faces were filled with shock and astonishment.

"So, you have to drink Fray's blood and ask her to talk to Angel Ithuriel on your behalf, that's... interesting. Do you think she'll agree?" Simon asked curiously.

"That we'll see. Are you both okay with this?" Alec asked hesitantly.

Simon and Izzy exchanged a look. "Of course we are, big brother. I'm really happy for you." She hugged her brother tightly. Alec looked at Simon who nodded and smiled at him, he smiled back and mouthed thank you to him.

They broke their hug and Alec sighed with relief. "I'm glad to have your support, but, Izzy, I need advice, I'm confused."

"What is it?"

"Should I wait for everyone to arrive and talk to them tonight altogether, or I'll talk to everyone privately? I don't know how everyone's gonna react, especially Jace and Clary."

Izzy didn't know what to say to that. She looked at Simon than at her brother, trying to form words when Simon broke the silence.

"Um... I don't know what you think, Iz, but I think you should talk to everyone privately, talking to everyone at the same time would mean too many emotions in one place when you don't know how will everyone react which can become uneasy for you. But it's completely up to you." He said carefully.

"I think you're right Simon, thank you. It might take time, but I'll get a fair amount of time with everyone. And I think I'm going to make Jace and Clary wait for the last." He said with a chuckle.

"Now, Izzy, till the time mom and Luke arrive, why don't you and Clary show me what I've asked for!?" He asked with a wide smile.

Simon had a confused expression from his question, making Alec chuckle with the realization that neither of the women had told anyone about the gifts he had asked them to help him make for Magnus.

"Come on then, big brother. It's in Clary's room." She wrapped her arm around her brother's, dropped the silencing rune, and walked towards Jace and Clary's shared room. When they were near their room they heard loud arguments coming from their room making them exchange looks.

"Can we come in Fray? Or are you both going to continue with whatever you were arguing about?" Simon asked while suppressing his laugh, earning a flying pillow from Clary, which he dodged successfully, making Alec and Izzy burst with laughter, and Jace completely embarrassed.

"Are you people done?" Alec asked.

Clary cleared her throat and steadied herself. "Yeah, come in."

"Are you still working on it, or is it completed? Alec wants to see it." Izzy said the excitement was clearly visible in her voice.

"Oh, are you sure Alec? It's not completed yet."

"Completed or not, I want to see both of your's!"

"Okay, it's in my art room."

"Art room?" "What the hell is going on!?" Alec and Jace said at the same time.

Jace was carefully listening to their conversation, making a frown appear on his forehead. He looked at Simon who was mirroring his confused expressions, but no one else, making his nerves rise.

Alec sighed. "Izzy and Clary, may I know why you both kept it hidden from them?" He waved towards Simon and Jace.

"We thought it would be nice to surprise them too, we want to see their expressions when it's done," Izzy said.

Jace and Simon exchanged a look, Jace was about to say something when Alec raised his hand to shut him up. He shook his head in disbelief. "I didn't get my answer, Art room?"

"Oh, my old room, now that I share the room with Jace, I converted that to my personal Art room. Are you really sure, Alec?"

"Yes, and anyways I want it completed before I leave for Alicante."

"Are you sure, big brother? Will you be able to hide from Magnus for that long?" Izzy raised her brow at him.

"Alec, if this makes you relieved, I got permission from Angels to use the portal rune as a permanent rune for me, and anyways I and Izzy are gonna portal to the lakeside to complete all the decorations you've asked for. You can meet us there and take the gifts from us." Clary said.

Alec looked at Clary in disbelief. "You got permission? That's something. Okay then, take your time, but it should be completed by Wednesday."

"We're almost done, big brother. Don't worry!"

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

They all walked towards Clary's Art room, Alec was way too excited to see what they've done. Clary opens the door, which was filled with the scent of fresh colors, different shapes of brushes were spread in the whole room and a bunch of them were kept in a pen stand with several watercolor bottles and charcoal pencils on a wooden table in the corner of the room. There were different shapes of canvases filled in the whole room.

Clary went forward and removed a red-colored cloth that was covering a medium-sized canvas, only to reveal 3 frame-sized paintings pinned on the canvas, the 4th one was ongoing and one was empty. Alec's jaw fell on the ground seeing them.

"You... you're painting them!?"

"You like it?" Clary asked nervously, biting her nails, and looked at Izzy.

Alec went forward and traced his fingers over the painting of their wedding, both in tuxedos, holding hands, a look of pure happiness on their faces. "Put this in the center, and frame them properly. Magnus is going to love it. And I do too. Thank you, redhead!"

Clary sighed with relief and nodded with a warm smile.

"What the he-"

"Wow, these are beautiful Fray, so that's not the only surprise you're planning for Magnus? It's so lovely!"

"Yes, there's more Simon. I told you and Izzy alre-"

"What is going on!? And why am I the only one who doesn't know anything!?" Jace yelled.

Alec sighed for the billionth time that day. "Jace, are you really not getting it, or are you seriously not remembering!?"

Every eyes were on Jace now. "Remember wha... oh shit!" He gulped when he realized the paintings were from Alec's wedding to all of their following anniversaries. And it's his brother's anniversary next week.

"Sorry, Alec. I forgot about your anniversary. So, that's why Magnus is not here, you're planning a surprise, huh?" He said teasingly knowing that his brother is bad with surprises.

Alec rolled his eyes and smacked Jace on the back of his head, earning a whiney 'Ow' from him while others burst into laughter. "So, Izzy!?"

"It's in the weapons room, come on!"

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

They were all in the weapons room, Izzy had vacated the room for some time, and they were the only five present there. She went towards the right side rack, opened the second last drawer and took out a black-colored box, and walked towards the center table where everyone was standing.

"Big brother, it's yet to be completed. The whole engraving is remaining, you sure!?"

"Engraving?" Others said in unison.

"Yes, Izzy! Just show me whatever is done!"

Izzy opened the box to reveal a set of 3 diamond rings, sitting on fake fingers, two on the base and one in the middle of the finger, each connected with silver chains having tiny emeralds covering the whole chain. It was a really beautiful ring. There was a bundle of diamond cuts sitting on the base of the box.

Everyone's jaws were dropped on the floor. The ring was shining brightly in the dullness of the room.

"Why extra diamonds?" Clary asked curiously.

"These are going to be fixed on the engraving. Alec, thoughts?" She asked, her voice filled with nervousness and excitement.

"Wow! I... I'm speechless. You did a great job, Izzy. Magnus is definitely going to fall in love with it."

"I already am," Clary confessed. Her eyes were shining with the lights the diamond ring was emitting.

"I didn't know my girlfriend was this talented!" Simon said. He and Jace were completely dumbfounded.

They all got out of their trance with a loud squeal Izzy made, way too excited and proud of her work. They all exchanged a look and shook their heads at her.

Before Izzy could say, her phone buzzed and her expressions went from excited to soft.

"What?" Alec asked.

"Mom and Luke are here, you're ready, Alec?"

Alec sighed. "Let's get this over with!"

[greenninjagal-blog]

Deja vu pt4

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait! Who’s ready for 19 pages of Remus angst? If you’re new around [Here] is the first part, and [Here] is the previous chapter for those who want a refresher!

(To that one person who asked if Remus’s vision would get any clearer: I am so sorry.)

Summary: Remus has been able to see the future since he was eight years old. He thinks that maybe his mother would have loved him a bit more if he hadn’t. (aka, Remus calls home.)

Words: 7879

TW: attempted suicide, blood, death, bad parenting

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

By the time he’s twenty one and four months, Remus is no stranger to cross country traveling. He’s been all over the country, all over the back roads, the main roads, the highways and the interstates. He’s had paper maps from greasy gas stations stuffed in his go-bag since he was eighteen, and keeps souvenirs of his travels in the form of pins and buttons he’s clipped on the shoulder strap. 

He had made it a habit to never travel with a plan. He had chosen directions on a whim, following signs when he felt the need to sleep somewhere, and picked up cars from dealerships when he had been too lazy to use his casino-breaking powers to get the cash to pay for it legally. 

Travelling is something Remus has always been familiar with. The freeing feeling of pressing his foot to the floor and blowing through endless cornfields, of burning more gas than strictly necessary, of getting himself lost on backroads without cell service-- He loves driving with the windows down and the long distances. During the billions of times that he had slept in whatever car he was using, he had enjoyed climbing on the hood and staring up at the stars until sleep dragged him away again. 

Travelling with Dee, however, is something else entirely.

At first it had been different just because there were two of them: the presence of another person made him feel the need to talk to fill the silence, made him actually have to answer the “where are we going” question, made him unsure of if what he was doing was the right thing to do.

(Not the morally right thing-- no that he knew the answer of. He meant the right thing as in the thing that Dee wanted him to do. He imagined in those first few weeks he acted a lot like a pet dog, always checking back to Dee to see that he was doing good, and wagging his metaphorical tail whenever the Shapeshifter gave him that delicious validation.)

Travelling with Dee almost means the death of sleeping in the car they were using. The Shapeshifter believes him when he says that they aren’t gonna be attacked in the night or the police aren’t going to come knocking on their windows, but Dee, as much as he tries to pretend he’s new to riches and money, is a fucking elitist. 

“Why sleep in the backseat when there is a hotel with a bed and breakfast right there?” He used to ask, sometimes still asks, never needs to ask anymore. “Why act like a ruffian without a home when I can live like a king?”

And, well, Remus had looked into his eyes for too long and gotten lost in the depths of them. Dee was pretty, you see? And Remus’s stubbornness was a learned trick that Dee knew how to circumnavigate. 

Travelling with Dee means hotels with beds and fake names in a log book. It means showers with mini bottles of shampoo and crisp covers freshly cleaned and watching the stars from the balconies while Dee smelled his money (again). It means complimentary breakfasts that aren’t super great, but they’re something that Remus hadn’t had in a while and sharing a room with another person who didn’t trust him not to run off with all their money, counting the near silent inhales and exhales, and trying not to think about stupid things like “family vacations” or “Just share the bed, Roman, its one night!”

It means no more stealing cars, because Dee rations out and puts aside money in the most atrocious order-- something that he won’t describe to Remus beyond “you’re cute, but not that cute” no matter how many times Remus asks, or when he asks. Somehow he always has the money for a new car and food and a hotel room and anything else they saw and wanted for whatever reason. 

(“Not that one,” Remus had said, grabbing Dee’s arm before he could even look in the direction of the car in the lot. And Dee blinked but didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t pick out any other silver sedans and Remus managed to make it all the way to the bathroom before vomiting his guts up. Funny, isn’t it? That he can still see blood on a bumper and hear the screams of ambulance sirens thirteen fucking years later?)

Some things are the same, though.

Remus takes note of them as he drives calmly through the evening, like he used to in the four years where he had between running away from everything he’d known and running into Dee’s arms. The air still feels nice with the windows down, his eyes still burn when the opposite traffic forgets to turn off their high beams, the radio is still soft and soothing and plays along to his heartbeat. Dee’s still curled up in the passenger side seat, wearing a fresh pastel peach button up tucked into black dress pants and dress shoes bought straight from the rack. 

He’s still cute like this, vulnerable, with scales on display and his seatbelt imprinting a line on his opposite cheek. There’s a duffel bag of stolen money at his feet, all counted and tagged in his pocket notebook that he never lets Remus flip through. In the backseat are two more duffel bags with just Remus’s atrocious half of the money and another couple of suitcases that contain their material possessions.

Something stirs in Remus’s gut at the sound of Dee’s soft snores. He really is asleep, really does trust Remus not to drive them into a guard rail or off a cliff or into another car. He really trusts that Remus hasn’t been hiding a switchblade in his sleeve, just waiting for the right moment to plunge it into Dee’s throat before making an abstract art masterpiece out of his blood. He really trusts Remus not to park somewhere on the shoulder and take all the money they have between them and disappear in the night without a trace.

He trusts Remus.

And he doesn’t have a clue how much that means. 

Well, maybe he’s guessed a little. After all, Remus still gets that surprised look on his face when Dee actually listens to him, still finds himself rolling that purple coin from the Basilisk Casino that he’s kept, still gets a little shaky when he tells certain futures because this is it, this is gonna be the time where Dee says he’s stupid and crazy and dumb and he’s not gonna listen--

Trust was a hard thing to come by after Remus turned eight. How can you trust the crybaby that starts sobbing every time someone gets a little scratch? How can you trust the psycho kid who needs medication to go to school? How can you trust Roman’s Weirdo Brother when he says he can see the future like some sideshow circus attraction?

But Dee trusts him enough to keep travelling with him, enough to keep robbing banks with him, enough to let down his glamour and show his real self while he’s sleeping.

It's all well and good and fine.

Remus wishes he trusted himself the way Dee trusts him.

The music playing is still something that Dee had picked out hours before, classical and Remus doesn’t hate it necessarily, but he did turn it down so slow that the engine is louder than those stupid violins. Remus has an appreciation for people who find the screeching strings pleasant rather than just annoying, he swears. But the rumbling of the engine, the bump of every uneven bit of road, the slow winding turns is a familiar comforting melody.

Home, Remus knows, is more of the road than any building he’s ever been in. It’s more of the feeling of Dee’s hand in his over the console, more of the smell of pine tree air fresheners mixed with new car, than any concrete solid place he’s ever been.

Which is silly, maybe. Remus thinks if he squeezes his eyes closed really hard he can still picture the layout of the house he and Roman lived in. (Not “home”, not “the place he grew up in” and he definitely didn’t grow up in there-- because it wasn’t until he was seventeen and sleeping in gas station bathrooms in two hour spurts that he learned how the world really was.)

His mother really tried, Remus thinks. She really tried to be a good person, a good mother, a good role model. She made sure they cleaned their rooms and taught them how to do the laundry. She made sure he brushed his teeth and was fed and healthy and smil--

Listen when he--

Helped him take his med--

She tried, okay. Remus thinks that if he had been a normal child he might have grown up happy. He thinks that if she had had any other son to twin with Roman she would have been a fantastic Mom. He thinks that if he hadn’t gotten his power at eight fucking years old he would have been able to articulate what the fuck was going on and they might have had a chance.

Then he wonders what the hell they would have had “a chance” at. 

And then he gets angry about himself even thinking about it and---

---drives his car directly into the guardrail. Killing himself instantly with the force of the side collision and the air bad while Dee gasps for life he desperately was clinging too and the car that had been behind them for three exits screeches to a stop a dozen yards ahead of them and with passengers scrambling from their pickup truck screaming for help---

---drives his car directly into the guardrail. Killing himself instantly with the force of the side collision and the air bad while Dee gasps for life he desperately was clinging too and the car that had been behind them for three exits screeches to a stop a dozen yards ahead of them and with passengers scrambling from their pickup truck screaming for help---

---drives his car directly----

 And Remus keeps driving on the quiet road, switching lanes so he’s in the middle lane rather than the side one.

Its not a good night.

Well in all honestly it hasn’t been a good day either. They had spent most of it driving and Remus hadn’t meant to be quiet, but his thoughts had been so loud he forgot that not everyone could hear them. They felt like screams, like a blow horn directly into his ear drums, like his brain was being torn apart with each and every fire of a neuron. 

Thinking hurt. He hated to do it. 

Dee must have picked up on it, must have taken note of his change in attitude since that morning when he had grabbed the car keys off the dresser and hoisted their bags into the car. He had asked once, Remus thought, maybe. It would have been out of character for him not to ask what Remus was doing with the keys, but if he had asked he had only done it one time.

And Remus hadn’t answered it and Dee hadn’t asked again.

He also hadn’t asked where they were going. Remus thinks that was blessing, a mercy, a silent kindness that he was too selfish to even say thank you for. He didn’t know where he was driving to, just that he had blown through a full tank and a half and somewhere over ten hours of driving and that they had crossed timezones again.

And the concept of timezones had made him angry enough to slam his foot to the floor and nearly run a blue minivan off the road entirely.

He switches hands he’s steering with, flexing and stretching his digits to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

There’s four hours now. 

And Remus knows this because even if he hadn’t graduated highschool he knew how to read a clock. Which was what he had been doing all day: watching the speedometer and watching the clock and watching his blood pressure rise with every mile he drove.

There’s four hours between them now. Which means nine o’clock for him, which means the dim sky, which means the peaks of the faint stars through the grey cloudy sky, the closed mom-and-pop shops and the dwindling number of other cars-- which means that everything around him currently is not the same thing for someone who is four hours behind them.

Dee is asleep, shifting tiredly, when Remus, grinds his teeth together so hard and violently and angrily.

His skin feels wrong, too tight, too small. It feels like someone else and he’s only borrowing it. It twists around his lungs, constricting around him like a python and stealing every breath from his chest and getting smaller with every inhale. 

His legs burn with a restless energy and his eyes hurt from driving for so long and he’s hungry.

The radio fuzzes as he drives, as they reach the end of the station's signal range, as the violins finally die and leaves them with just static. The noise is grating in a way that Remus can’t quite place, something more annoying than the screeching of his own thoughts that won’t shut up. He reaches blindly for the power button, trying not to take his eyes off the road because he doesn’t want to plow them into the back end of the SUV they’ve been trailing behind for the better part of fifty miles. 

The radio goes off. 

Remus’s thoughts do not. 

The cloudy sky makes it darker than it actually is, making him turn on his headlights and make him growl at the lane reflectors he comes across every so often. The words on the signs might as well be written in Greek because Remus doesn’t bother reading them at all.

Mostly.

He tries not to. 

But there’s one that spells out “RESTSTOP” and it gouges its phantom fingers in Remus’s brain, refusing to leave him alone after he sees it. He drives and he tells himself it's because they haven’t eaten all day, because Dee probably needs to use the restroom, because he needs a stretch. Dee hasn’t complained at all, you know? Remus owes him a little bit of a stop. Maybe they can look for a fancy hotel with a penthouse edition and get himself drunk on the minibar delights.

That’s all.

It hasn’t nothing to do with the four hour time gap.

Dee doesn’t wake even when he pulls into a well lit parking spot. There’s a handful of other vehicles in the lot: a deep green hatchback with two bikes strapped to the top, a jeep with no doors and a lot of mud, a group of sixish motorcycles and the owners of them standing nearby talking quietly. He counts at least seven eighteen wheelers resting for the hour all with a collection of name brands and graffiti on the backs. 

 Remus puts their own car in park and sits back, taking it all in. 

He’s no stranger to travelling, hasn’t been for a long time. At twenty one years and four months old he’s no longer scared of the dark and certainly not scared of going to a public restroom. The signs clearly mark eating areas, restrooms, the dark, creepy, not-at-all well lit path into the woods for those who need to stretch and want to be murdered by psycho crazy forest clowns. There’s vending machines that take credit cards for sodas and packaged foods and Remus even spots one selling cheap portable phone chargers.

There’s a payphone booth.

Three actually.

None of them are in use, currently.

Remus looks back at the clock in their car-- its a quarter past nine-- and wishes that he couldn’t do math so well in his head. Maybe if he hadn’t been able to count he would have been able to take the stupid urge by is scrawny neck and throw it out the window while he drove right on by. Maybe if he hadn’t been able to keep track of days so well he would have been able to ignore the date. Maybe if he hadn’t been so great at counting he could have been better at something else, anything else, something normal.

She had tried, hadn’t she? 

So Remus should have been thankful, grateful, happy at least about that, right? It was his fault that he hadn’t been able to figure out that his visions were telling the future until a year later, until the doctors told him it was all in his head, until his own mother had decided he was making it up. She had listened to him those first few times, listened and reassured him, and held him close when he couldn’t breathe from the crippling fear that Roman was going to die. She had weathered each of eight-year-old Remus’s breakdowns with the patience of a saint.

And he still hadn’t been able to be that perfect son for her.

“Take your meds, Remus,” She had still told him when he was sixteen and had stopped crying when he watched her cross the parking lot without looking. “Take your meds and you’ll get better.” She had said even though that wasn’t what the meds did for people who actually took them. The meds hadn’t been the glue to piece him-- or anyone-- back together. They just reminded people of how their pieces fit without scratching and breaking and shattering even more.

And Remus hadn’t even needed them back then, because his problem hadn’t been like anyone else's. 

It hadn’t been delusions and hallucinations in his head. It hadn’t been him going crazy, it hadn’t been him losing himself. 

She had tried though. To be a good mother. To love him and all his….quirks.

“I don’t need you!” Roman had said. Very loudly, very openly, very angrily. And Remus thinks about that day a lot, often, all the goddamn time. Because they had been arguing all the way up the stairs, had been fighting verbally and their mother, their mom, Mom, had been just below them in the kitchen making dinner-- or maybe it had been a dessert, baking? Or just messing around in the kitchen. She had been there.

And they had gotten in trouble for arguing much quieter before.

Remus thinks about that day. He thinks about the vision of Roman dying by his own hand, of the blood and the gore and then fluttering pulse and the concept of a soul leaving the body. He thinks about how his parents would have come running the moment they heard Roman scream in pain.

He thinks. 

Maybe he thinks too much. 

And maybe one day he’d get the courage to ask himself the big looming question: Had she loved him? Or had she loved the concept of him?

Today wasn’t, hasn’t been, isn’t that day.

It’s nine thirty, here, at this rest stop somewhere in Oregon, where Remus is clawing his fingers on his thighs and letting his unevenly chewed nails catch on the holes in his fishnets. Its nine thirty here on the day where Remus is twenty one and four months old and staring at a payphone like it was about to ring all by itself. Its nine thirty one and Remus is thinking too much, too loudly, not enough.

It must be around five thirty for her. Right in the middle of dinner. Or after. Maybe she’s doing the dishes under scalding water that boils her hands right off. Maybe the dinner was poisoned and she’s clawing at her throat right now. Maybe she went out for the evening and got hit by a car when crossing the street.

Remus knows he could check. He doesn’t.

Because his skin is already itching and his breath is too hot and he wants to cry but he’s too old to be crying over things like this, just like his mom has said a thousand times over. 

He wonders if she would believe him if he told her how many times she had cried over Roman, how many times she had frozen at the sight of her precious baby boy going still and silent, how many times she fell to the ground and clutched at his body screaming her sobs like there was a chance any god out there would hear her anguish and give her son back. 

Like she had only one to love and cherish.

She had tried.

Remus wants to laugh so badly it hurts. The urge itself rips through his body, shredding his organs with a razorblade and filling his lungs with fluids followed and squirming its way up his throat inch by inch with a determination Remus hasn’t seen in himself since that gas station four years ago where he saw himself jump in front of an eighteen wheeler and felt his insides go splat! for the first time.

Remus wants to laugh, because she had tried, and it hadn’t been enough and Remus still---

He still---

Remus pulls the keys out of the ignition and throws them in the cupholder next to the sleeping Dee. He exchanges it for his wallet, which had seen far better days and been handled far nicer, but that’s beside the point. His driver’s license is overdue but nothing short of a nuclear bomb will get him back to the state he had once lived in-- he skips over it and the various rechargeable cards he had picked up over the years (Starbucks, Seven-Eleven, a Techron Advantage Card he got for fun and never actually used because Dee always paid for gas) and goes straight for the cash.

They’re all large bills. He takes a fifty.

Dee murmurs softly as he unbuckles his seat belt and flies into a wide blown panic when Remus opens the door. Quicker than Remus thought was possible for a guy to move, he springs over the dividing console and grabs Remus’s arm with-- OW FUCK DEE -- claws.

Remus yanks back on instinct, throwing himself against the already open door and tumbles into the empty parking spot next to them. His arm howls with pain, with an agony, with a cacophony that drowns out all his other thoughts for the moment. 

The blood is red. 

Remus is twenty one and four months old and his body wracks with such a vehement hatred for the color it makes the rest of his blood, the blood in his veins, the blood in his body, his blood boil. Its red, and he hates red, has hated red, will forever hate red.

Because red was the color of Roman’s favorite jacket when they were eight, the color of Roman’s shoes that he left out on the stairs too many times, the color of Roman’s blood too.

Red had been the color staining the bumper of a silver sedan, the color of a broken snow globe hitting the carpet, the color of Remus’s insides on the freeway, and the underside of an eighteen wheeler, and the bottom of the motel bathroom tub. 

“Remus!” Dee yells from inside the car, morphing, changing, panicking in a way that is not like him at all. He clambers into the driver's seat looking too pale for a guy whose skin tone could be any color he wanted it to be. “I’m sor-- I didn’t know we ha--- Oh my god I’m sorry!” 

He grabs all the napkins they have squirreled away in the crevices of the car, then the half empty tissue pack from the last time Remus had decided to check to see if the line in McDonalds was going to be long, then a scarf Dee had bought before he remembered that it was warm enough to cook eggs on the sidewalk in most of the places they went to. He spills out of the car even less gracefully than Remus had, bubbling up apologies like his mouth was a fountain. There’s an emotion wafting off him, something that taints the air and makes the hair on Remus’s neck stand on edge.

“It’s okay,” Remus whispers.

“You’re not okay!” Dee frantically responds, turning a stripe of his hair blonde and completely missing the part where Remus did not say he himself was okay.

Dee’s fingers feel like bugbites up and down his arm, like cigarette ends being jammed into his flesh, like he was the cake and Dee was placing enough candles in him to make up for every birthday his mother had missed celebrating.

“Its okay,” Remus says, tugging his arm away before Dee can turn him into a house fire that burns down the whole block.

“Remus--”

Remus stands up. “I need to make a phone call.”

Remus doesn’t need to make a phone call. He probably shouldn’t make a phone call. 

“Remus!” Dee says standing up too. He’s taller this week, today, now, than he’s been before. He’s got an inch on Remus, and he uses that inch to look down at him and breathe like every inhale might be his last. There’s blood on his hands from trying to mop up where Dee had clawed him. Remus can feel the warmth of his blood trailing down his fingers even now. 

“What the hell is up with you right now!” He demands in a way that makes Remus’s stomach churn, that makes his knees weak and his throat feel all lumpy in all the wrong places. 

He should be mad. Dee should be furious at him for ignoring him all day, for driving them through a handful of states, for not pausing for bathroom breaks or any type of food, for not waking him when he stopped at the rest stop. He should be so angry he can’t see straight, so enraged that he stood up and grabbed the keys and drive the fuck away from here. He should be mad.

So why does he sound so scared? 

“Is this about the Mall?” Dee asks, “I can do better, Remus, please! I’m sorry!”

He’s babbling like a brook, about things in the mall that Remus barely remembered because it was a day and a half ago and three, four, five states gone. He’s talking about the Mall the same way that eight-year-old Roman had been apologizing for name calling, while Remus was three sheets in the wind during a tornado on his own thoughts.

“No,” Remus says, which is about as effective as shoving his finger in a hole in a dam.

The parking lot lights make Dee look like he’s standing in a spotlight on stage. Remus hates the sight, hates the feeling that they’re putting on a production for someone else's entertainment, hates that he should know his lines by now and because he doesn’t he's ruining everything around him.

Dee moves like a clockwork mannequin with rusted gears. Remus thinks he can hear each individual gear screech as his back straightens and his weight shifts back and Dee looks more like Roman than he’d ever know.

“N--n--” Dee repeats, “No?”

As if he didn’t know what the word meant.

“Like….no I can’t do better?”

-- “Like, No Get Back in the Fucking Car, Dee!” Remus explodes.---

--“Like No, Leave me alone for five seconds!” Remus erupts.---

--”Like No, Its not your fault I’m a fucking mess!” Remus chokes.---

--- “Like No, Its not your fault. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”--

-- “Like No, I’m making bad decisions and I’m sorry and I don’t know what to do and I know that you don’t really love me the way you think you do because no one ever loves me that way. Like No, this is a future that I’m not going to choose but I wish I had because keeping this all in my chest hurts like a little bitch, Dee. It hurts so bad. Like no. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m going to have such a nose bleed from this one, and because you’re you, you’ll know that I’ve been bullshitting my way through this for a good while. My power’s broken, Dee. Don’t you see? And once I tell you what's going to be left for you to stay?.”---

“Like No,” Remus says, defeated. “I don’t even remember what happened at the Mall.”

Dee stares at him with stolen sapphire eyes, with an emotion he can’t place, with wordless questions Remus doesn’t want to answer.

He doesn’t know what time it is.

A drip of his blood leaks down his lip and lands on the asphalt at his feet. That’s okay.

He breathes in the dry air, feeling it scratch down his throat and butcher his lungs with each inhale. “I...need to make this phone call.”

“Why?” Dee pleads, and Remus thinks that if even Dee can tell it will end badly, he should know better than to go through with it. 

But Remus has been thinking too much lately, about too many things. He’s been trapped up in his own head, and the last people he tried to let help him gave up on him.

And he still can’t give up on them.

“It’s her birthday,” Remus says with a smile that borders on deranged, “And she tried, you know?”

He doesn’t know. Remus can tell by the look on Dee’s face. But that’s okay. They made a pact after all, after that first night, that they wouldn’t get personal, that discussions of feelings were off the table. And Dee had said in a future that hadn’t happened that Remus was an investment that will pay out one day. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know.

“Remus,” Dee says, controlling the stage like he was born to do it. “What will she say?”

Remus shrugs and turns away because he’s never been able to make it past intermission of any production he’s watched. The fifty in his hand has splatterings of blood, his arm aches and whines as he uses it to smear away the waterfall from his nose. At least a couple of the sidewalk lights are broken so he doesn’t scare every single normal person chilling at the rest stop as he walks up.

Remus is twenty one and four months, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t waste forty seven dollars on snacks from a vending machine just to get the change in quarters to call cross country. He’s not hungry but he peels open a Cliff bar and takes a bite anyway. The rest of the food he leaves on the patio floor around the vending machine for whatever comes by, be it the kids he can hear yelling or the raccoons watching from the tree line.

He glances back at the car, their car, Dee’s car. Just to make sure its still there. That Dee didn’t drive off without him.

Dee hadn’t, didn’t, doesn’t. He’s sitting in the driver's seat with the door wide open, half in half out, and it looks like he was fiddling with the radio again.

Remus tosses the other half of the bar into the trashcan and walks the last three steps to the payphones. 

She had tried. Remus puts the phone to his ear and tries to remember how to breathe. 

The buttons are stiff. Remus’s knuckle leaves behind traces of his blood as he dials. The back of his throat tastes like his inside of his stomach. There’s a gritty feeling along his teeth and the bottom of his mouth from the Cliff Bar. He’s knees tremble to the sound of the ringing, leaving him swaying in the too-long silences, in the bated breaths, in the calm before the hurricane. 

“Hi! It's the Regis Family! We’re not available right now, but if you leave your name and number, we’ll get back to you!” 

Remus’s mouth tastes like blood. He swallows it down, breathes through the rest of the message, the beep and another moment where his chest just aches with a billion words he doesn’t know how to say.

“H….hey.” His voice is raspy. Why is his voice so raspy? He clears his throat. “I, uh...I was calling to say, Happy Birthday. Hope it was a good one. That’s all. B--”

“--Hello?”

Remus’s jaw clicks shut at the noise, the words, the voice. Because even four years later Remus knows it like the back of his hand, can still imagine it screaming his name in the store, of it laughing as she brushed through his curls, of it whispering softly that everything is fine, everything is okay, I’m right here, Remus.

“Ha, Hi! Sorry about that, you caught us just as we were getting back to the house! Oh, this is embarrassing… Who is this? Our caller ID isn’t working…”

She trails off.

Remus thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe.

She sounds out of breath, flushed and happy and excited in a way that he doesn’t remember her ever being before. His vision tunnels through memories, through scenes in his head where she’s smiled and laughed and giggled the way she’s doing right now. He’s coming up blank.

He grabs the wall to keep himself steady.

“Hello?”

“I’m here,” Remus croaks.

She’s different now. So is he. Everything is different and the world seems to stop at that mind blowing statement.

“.....I’m sorry,” She says, “I really need to know who this is, now.”

Remus should hang up. 

Remus needs to hang up. 

He laughs, like he’s on death row, like the barrel of a gun in on his temple, like his foot just left the ledge.

“What?” He asks, “Can’t a mother recognize the sound of her own son's voice?”

There’s a breath. A moment. A second. Remus feels it. Like it's tangible, palpable, real. Like all the clocks in the world decided to stop. Like a tick without a tock. Like the past and the present and the future didn’t exist at all. There’s a breath, and Remus thinks that she had tried once, maybe she could try again. 

They both could try again.

“Oh my god. Is that...Baby, is that really you? I’m so sorry for what I said. You were right.” 

“Wait--”

“You’re always right. And I’m sorry about-- about everything. Please let me make it up to you?” His mother says and Remus gets a sinking feeling in his chest.

“What--”

“Or at least talk about it? Can we do that?”  His mother says and Remus should have hung up.

“Mom--”

“Can you come back home, Roman?” His mother says and Remus sees red.

Because, of course, she thought he was Roman. Of course. 

Red is the color of Roman. The color of his jacket and his shoes and the ball Remus should have thrown into the road when they were eight. The color of a past Remus can’t get rid of because every time he does anything he can only hear Roman’s voice in his head or picture his mom with her red lipstick telling him to take his pills and stop being so abnormal. It’s the color of a future that he can’t reach because every time he gets a little bit of hope he’s reminded that he’s unnecessary and forgettable. 

Red is the color of Remus’s blood that looks just like his twin’s but somehow has always been valued less to their mother.

He squeezes the handle of the phone so hard his fingers go numb from the pain, and the scarf around his wrist turns scarlet. His body trembles and bubbles and boils like its housing a volcano ready to erupt, or a thousand termites are trying to chew their way out of him, or every atom in his body is trying to shake themselves apart.

Remus is twenty one and four months old and he hangs up the phone so hard that it pops right back out of the slot and swings to the ground by its cord.

He doesn’t fix it. In fact he doesn’t even see it because he’s too busy seeing red. Too busy seeing Roman’s head collide with the bumper of a silver sedan, too busy seeing Roman’s neck break when he falls off the swingset wrong, too busy seeing Roman’s body on the ground of his carpet surrounded by the shattered remains of a snowglobe, too busy seeing all the things he should have done or let happen or helped happen.

Too busy knowing that hindsight is 2020 and Remus’s insides suddenly want to be outsides and his arm hurts and he wants to-- 

He wants to--

--“REMUS!” Dee shrieks from across the parking lot, sprinting towards him because he forgot that he can shapeshift into something faster. There’s a terror in his eyes, a fear, a horror in his expression that's like being stuck under a collapsed building and knowing that no one is gonna come. “REMUS! SOMEONE HELP!”---

--“REMUS!” Dee shrieks from across the parking lot, sprinting towards him because he forgot that he can shapeshift into something faster. There’s a terror in his eyes, a fear, a horror in his expression that's like being stuck under a collapsed building and knowing that no one is gonna come. “REMUS! SOMEONE HELP!”

But no one is close enough and Remus’s knots are a practiced stubborn thing that has his body convulsing before Dee remembers he can make claws and cut the scarf off.---

--“REMUS!” Dee shrieks from across the parking lot, sprinting towards him because he forgot that he can shapeshift into something faster. There’s a terror in his eyes, a fear, a horror in his expression that's like being stuck under a collapsed building and knowing that no one is gonna come. “REMUS! SOMEONE HELP!”

But no one is close enough and Remus’s knots are a practiced stubborn thing that has his body convulsing before Dee remembers he can make claws and cut the scarf off.

But by then Remus is already dead.---

But no that’s not right. 

He doesn’t want to die. 

His mouth tastes like metal, and he’s so sick of the taste of metal, of the smell of blood, of the sight of red on his clothes and on him. He’s so sick of being the weird twin, of being the one everyone wants to forget, of being gifted with a power that's so shitty it his own body rejects it. He’s so, so sick.

And tired.

And angry. 

That he spent all day trying to figure out what to say to his mother and she doesn’t even remember him. That his family pushed him away and now he watches himself jump off buildings or into traffic or off tables at a rest stop. That his skin feels too small and his mind too big and that there is absolutely nothing wrong with him but everyone still treated him like there was.

“Pardon me,” A voice says to his left. “Hello? Sir? You seem to be bleeding...”

It belongs to a guy with glasses, big thick blocky glasses that match every other part of him: his sharp jawline, his stiff spine, his set shoulders. It belongs to a guy with hair so dark it might as well have been a black hole, with eyes swirling with so many blues they looked like nebulas, with skin so pale it might as well have been the surface of the moon. It belongs to a guy that reaches out oh so carefully and touches Remus’s shoulder to check that he’s alright and---

-- “A stick in the mud?” Logan suggests sourly as they walk. The rain speckles his glasses and plasters his hair to his head.

“I was gonna say prude, but that works too,” His younger brother shrugs, sipping loudly from his drink. “Girl, you really just need to loosen up. You’re always so stressed!”

“I do not need to loosen up,” Logan counters, “In fact, if anything, I need to tighten up my interactions with people more. You saw what happened to the baristas at the Starbucks.”

“Yeah, and it was Awesome!” His brother motions to the drink in his hand, “Free drinks!”

“Will it still be awesome when they get fired and lose their source of income because they unwittingly gave away merchandise to customers?” Logan asks. He tugs his jackets around him tighter, hunching his shoulders and wishing that between the two of them they had thought to bring at least one umbrella.

His brother rolls his eyes because the rain doesn’t bother him anymore than the slight chill or the cars passing dangerously close to their sidewalk. “Honey,” He says, “Its two free drinks. It’s not gonna kill the infrastructure.”

Logan grunts, dismissing the rest of the argument as he was prone to do more often these days. “Remind me again why we’re here.”

“That prince dude is supposed to be around here today!”

“You mean, Princeps,” Logan corrects. “Assumedly named after the swordsmen from Roman armies pre-Marian reforms. Which does not make any sense considering that he does not carry a sword and his perceived power does not--”

“I wanna get his autograph!”

Logan squints back at his brother. “You want the autograph of a man who is running around the country in tights? You don’t even have anything for him to sign.”

His brother shakes his mostly empty drink and points to the spot right below where the barista had scratched out his own name, not that Logan can see it, or anything. “Duh.”

Logan shakes his head, as his brother prattles on about Princeps face, his biceps, his thighs. And as much as Logan enjoys listening to his brother talk about things that interest him, he wishes that it was something other than men that thought “superhero” was a stable dayjob. He sighs and removes his glasses and to clean them as best as he can with the raindrops being the nice of dimes.z

 He hates the rain, hates that he couldn’t ever see more than three feet when it so much as sprinkled, hates that his brother has no such problems at all and can continue walking without a care in the world.

“LOGAN!” His brother yells.

And Logan has just enough time to feel his stomach jump straight to his throat, before he walks blindly into an open manhole. His forehead slams on the outer rim so hard he sees actual stars in the corners of his blurry vision. And he fumbles and  flails and falls and...

And the empty air catches him, covets him, carries him off. Because he’s dead as soon as his head hits the concrete floor ten feet below---

Remus inhales like he’s been drowning for the past four years, and hasn’t been able to find the surface. He stumbles back from the stranger who had approached him, from the man who has a younger brother, who doesn’t like superheroes, who’s name is Logan. He stumbles back and feels the whole Earth roll under his feet, turning the solid ground to an uneven puddy.

Logan jerks back as well, be it shock or surprise or something in between and equally bad. He looks at Remus, the way that the first dealer from the Basilisk Casino had, the way that the new freshmen at their high school had when the older kids told them to steer clear of the guy who looked just like the theater star, the way that Roman had when he had first seen the orange bottle of pills that were supposed to make Remus not cry all the time.  

“My apologies, you seemed to be in distre--” Logan starts.

“Don’t touch me,” Remus says quicker, louder, angrier. Because Logan doesn’t know that he’s going to die some day in the future, that its going to be a stupid sudden death, that his brother that he actually loves and whom loves him back is going to witness it. Because Remus doesn’t know why he knows either.

His skin blisters and bubbles and itches in a way that tells him he needs to take it off. His arm burns from the scratches, his blood is making his hand and wrist all sticky and his head feels a bit like cotton. His mouth tastes like Starbucks Hot chocolate and ash. 

“Don’t touch me,” Remus says again, because he feels radioactive and can smell petrichor in the air and everything about it is wrong. If he says anything else he thinks he might throw up or cry or both and he doesn’t think anything other than more blood can come up.

Remus turns and runs. 

“Remus?” Dee asks, when Remus throws himself into the passenger seat the way he should have that morning.

Remus shakes his head. And keeps shaking it because if he stops his thoughts will catch up and then they’ll really be in trouble.

“Drive,” He manages between his inconsolable gulps for air.

“Where?” Dee asks.

“Don’t care.”

He doesn’t. He just needs to be somewhere other than here.

Remus is twenty one and four months and he’s no stranger to travelling without a destination. Dee buckles his seat belt and pulls out of the parking spot without another word. Remus brings his knees to his head and counts, and counts, and counts. If he closes his eyes he thinks that he might see the silhouette of Logan standing next to the payphones staring at his hand still so he doesn’t close his eyes.

“That’s just what I’m saying, John.” The radio says, “All these new people with what can only be classified as “superpowers” and what is the Police doing about this? Nothing!” 

“Hotel,” Dee says, “We can order some food there and actually look at those marks on your arm.”

“Whatever,” Remus says.

“Well what do you expect the Police to do?” The radio says, “Their answer to everything is “shoot it.” I don’t know about you, but I don’t want the police shooting at a kid who just so happened to be able to make lightning. You heard about that incident in the Idahoan Mall didn't you? Times are changing. It's up to the people to police themselves now.”

Dee sticks his tongue out ever so slightly, like a snake smelling the air.

“You’re encouraging the actions of people like that dragon guy from that incident? The child from that event is in the hospital right now. 

“So is the man that had been robbing the store. Which is better than him being the morgue. I’m not saying that I think that putting children in the hospital is a good idea! I’m saying that only protecting the lives of “good” people is telling everyone to become judge, jury, and executioner. The Idaho Mall Incident could have been handled better-- in fact I think if the new guy, the one around the east wearing the white? You know the one I’m talking about, Karen.”

“Yeah, yeah, the Prince? I think he called himself Prince.” 

“Yes. If the Prince had been the one who had handled the Idaho Mall, it could have been handled completely peacefully, without either parties having ended up in the hospital.”

Dee grips the steering wheel, tightly.

Remus reaches out and turns the radio off.

[Part 5]

[notfeelingthyaster]

Imagine (Son of Hades! Percy; Godswapped! Big Three's kids) Son of Neptune AU (2/7) or (7/12)

Hello! Before reading, check the PJO AU and the TLH AU - the links are on the masterpost - because they are essential to this one. Don't forget to check the warnings before reading. Review and make suggestions! And have a good reading :))

TW: This post in special has sexual harassment, racist slurs, and mentions of whipping.

Perseus wakes up in a semi-destroyed building full of wolves with a black ax in one hand and a Warhammer in the other. And that's just the beginning of the worst months of his life - or the only months of his life he can remember.

Then everything hurts - too much, like his skin is melting from his bones and his eyes are being gouged out. His skin feels like it's melting, and he promptly passes out.

He has no idea of who he is - except his name, but he might just know it because the wolf woman told him - and the talking wolves don't know - or can't tell him anything else. Either way, Perseus is getting nowhere.

Oh yes - he is also pretty sure wolves aren't supposed to shapeshift. And rope you into training - which, he must've been a bodybuilder or something because he is pretty good at wrestling.

Shoving the wolves into the ground and destroying the monsters that try and defy Lady Lupa's pack are the highlights of his week.

Lady Lupa is... - Lupa is everything he knows. She is the one who, for some reason, let's him stay. She tells him about the gods and the monsters - about how she found him in her doorstep after her home was sacked by Earthborn.

How he must be the sign of the Olympus that Lady Venus promised her. The one who comes to help.

Perseus doesn't know her - he doesn't know who she is or if she is telling the truth. But he has well-trained powers that he has no idea how to utilize, nowhere to go and no way of searching for his family - no one knows who he is, except for his first name (which sounds wrong).

And he tried to run away once - it didn't end well, because monsters are immortal - and everywhere.

Lupa tells him he had a curse upon him, so he has to train himself all over again now that it's gone. It doesn't sound like the truth, but he prefers Lady Lupa's carefully crafted half-truths than sleeping in the streets.

Lady Lupa teaches him - and tells him to expect the signal of the gods. They will guide him - even if they give him no answers.

Perseus doesn't like the gods much. They've left him here - which is a good place, but not his home, wherever it is - with no idea of who he is or what to do - except train and learn.

Mother Lupa - as most call her in the Wolf House - educates him like one would an unruly puppy. She corrects everything - from the way he addresses the gods at evening prayers to the way he sits - and he obeys.

Because in the midst of all those wolves? Perseus is just another puppy. So he sits and read hours of Vergil, Ovid and Horace in ancient Latin out loud - even if he would prefer not to.

Sadly - he does not have an opinion. Lady Lupa won't hesitate on using her whip on him. Oh yes, she has a whip - a black whip, which she uses to educate them. His back hurts sometimes when he rests upon the cold floor.

He prays to anyone - his godly parent - who is some Underworld God if his hold on shadows and stone means anything - or a friend, someone who's missing him, anyone really, for them to come and gives him answers.

It doesn't happen.

So he trains and he trains. He has no idea how much time has passed - how much time he has been slashing and cutting and killing, how much time he has heard every detail of Julius Caesar crusade through Europe.

It's still cold when the gods send their signal - they send him a maiden. She holds her hand to him like he is an old friend - and he goes.

She makes him only one question - "Do you want peace or answers, Perseus? Choose carefully, for no path will be easy, but the harvest comes for those who plant the seeds" - and when he answers, she climbs to his back and flowers create a path in the ground.

She doesn't talk anymore. He follows the trail and the girl threads her fingers through his hair, humming to herself a melody only she is able to hear.

In the way, there are two gorgons. Lady Lupa taught him about them. It's an easy battle - until he discovers that they just don't die. They keep reforming, like evil pottery.

They attack again and he picks up his ax to continue racking them into bits, but she tightened her fingers in his hair - like one would steer a horse.

So before they reform, he runs. Perseus runs - with a beyond beautiful maiden on his back (which would be really uncomfortable, if he wasn't so pissed with the gods for giving exactly no answers) doing nothing but play with his hair and eat granola bars - and he gets to a military outpost.

At least, it's what it looks like. There's a wall who must be at least 20 feet high. Its not a normal wall - because he can see eyes in its crevices, looking at him.

Perseus is really tired. There are people there - he is seeing them, do they think he is stupid? - and he has a person in his back.

So he kills both gorgons again with his stone spikes - he is pretty sure the guys that aren't opening the doors can deal with them when they eventually reform - and shadow travels inside.

He doesn't do this often - it takes a lot out of him and he might end up stuck in the wall if he is too tired, but he is too angry to care.

Perseus could've destroyed their door. He should've, really. It might have stopped those people from surrounding him with weapons.

These people - the people looming over him now that he crossed the barrier, who are using togas just like him, so different but so familiar - would've let him die for nothing. Perseus growls - a bad habit he picked up living only with wolves for an undetermined amount of time.

He should kill every single one of them. He should open the ground - and let it swallow them, let their bones turn to dust, return their weapons to molten metal.

But the maiden tightens her fingers in his hair, and he obeys - because Perseus has been well trained, and he doesn't bend.

"Who are you?!" A boy with a bow asks harshly, and Perseus wants him to rip him apart - he is so done. Perseus is a Roman - is what Lupa taught him - and Roman wolves don't roll over.

"Lady Lupa sent me." They don't look like they believe him, but they take him to their leader.

He feels like an alien - behind the wall, there's a whole new world - hundreds of people stare at him with a mix of fear, disdain, and curiosity. It feels familiar.

Perseus is reluctant to leave his weapons with a statue - specially while entering the territory of people who won't protect him and might try to kill him, but he is not one for scandals - so he thanks Lord Terminus, and goes on.

They enter the Senate after walking for about an hour - his head held high, even with the extra weight in his back - in the middle of the session. Lady Lupa would find this appalling.

Everyone turns to them - the tall black muscular man, dressed in a dark red toga, with a woman in his back also clad in a toga - they look like normal citizens, and yet, somehow, completely foreign.

Their escorts - a black girl no older than fourteen and the archer, that must be around his age - kneel to the Praetor - but as soon as they start explaining, they are interrupted.

Their promagistrate - a man Perseus will later learn is named Justus - looks at them once and shrieks.

"Lord Pluto!" They call him, and the whole Senatus knee down "Lady Ceres!"

The goddess he didn't recognize comes down of his back, chuckling to herself. All gods are mad - Perseus thinks, but keeps stoic in front of the government of this Rome copycat, else they kill him for disrespect or something.

"Rise!" She starts "You're almost correct, child of Justitia. For I am Ceres, but this is not Lord Pluto."

The promagistrate seems offended with Perseus somehow - like it's his fault the man is an idiot.

"This is his only mortal son and my daughter's champion, Perseus of Styx. He has been under Lady Lupa's tutelage in her command." This was new.

So his father was the king of the dead himself - which was not surprising. But he was apparently Lady Proserpina's champion - a goddess who left him with Lady Lupa, apparently with his father's, Lady Venus' and Lady Ceres' approval.

Perseus (apparently, of Styx) wants to tear Olympus apart. He wants a lot of things - but for now, he shall observe and do what it's told of him.

Ceres leaves him under the "care" of the Romans. Immediately, the Praetor takes him to be interrogated.

He tells her the truth - or at least, what he can bender: He has been with Lady Lupa as long as he remembers. Yes, he is trained. He can control earth, shadows, metal. Sometimes, vines and skeletons. No, he doesn't have a last name. No, he doesn't know Jason Grace.

In return, the woman (a daughter of Bellona with brown skin that he feels he should know) explains where he is.

This is Nova Roma - and they are in Jupiter's Capitol, also known as the First City of Twelve, where is localized their Forum Romanum - which is composed by the Comitium (where the Senatus is localized), the Pluton Denar Domum (their bank) and a temple for all the gods - decorated with gardens and founts mainly used by the politicians in session and augurs.

The other non-military districts are Juno's Urbs, where most families live; Minerva's Scientia et Quaerere Centrum, which contains schools, colleges, libraries, and research centers; Phoebus Apollo's Salutem Receptum, a whole district for health care and who mainly takes care of cleaning the city; and Vesta's Forum Boarium, where the temples reside, including the Hearth of Rome, with their sacred fire.

Then there the indirectly of military nature; Ceres' Agris, fields who produce all food of the city; Mercury's Via, where communication and post are handled - also, the main place for entertainment; Vulcan's Caminus, the forges and armory; and Neptune's Militiarum Equestri, battle horses, pegasi, hellhounds, elephants, wolves and hounds.

There's also the military ones: Venus Victrix's Feminam Lorem ad Bellum, the training camp for girls; Mars Ultor's Masculum Lorem ad Bellum, the training camp for boys; and Diana's Venari, a forest they use to hunt monsters.

Praetor Arellano shows him around. The praetor shouldn't be doing that, but he seems to be important enough - he got here with a goddess in his back after all. His step-grandmother?

"Everyone is involved in the war effort - Everything for Rome. Everyone capable is obliged to join the training as soon as they're eight. When you're ready, you join the Legion, for fifteen years, in any capacity. Some - the ones with specific talents - join the field healers or the forges."

"Most join the legionnaires. Later in life, some go to college - training to farm, teach, own business, plan buildings, weave, research, write, go exclusively into politics, or become doctors - for either animals or people. Some never leave until they absolutely have to - it's an honor to serve Rome."

"You are neither a son or legacy of any construction or any health deity, so you'll go directly to be tested by Mars Ultor's Masculum Lorem ad Bellum - to see if you are qualified to be a soldier or if you need to undergo more training, and how much."

"A fight, Praetor?" He asks, as respectfully as Lupa indoctrinated in him, even if he hated this situation from the start.

"It's part of it, yes. But a fighter is not a soldier - you'll be expected to know rhetoric and show resilience, to be able to think and strategize. Put on a good performance - the Centurions choose which Cohort you go."

Then, she explained the Legion and its Five Cohorts - and the Centurions - before leaving him with one of his escorts from earlier. He doesn't think it matters much - if one of the Praetors is from Third Cohort and their last Praetor, from Fifth, while the Consul himself was from Fourth - what does it matter?

The guard seems uncomfortable in his presence - as if she knows exactly who he is. She introduces herself - Hazel Levesque, daughter of Jupiter. And part of the Fifth Cohort - mainly because of the previous Praetor - the one who's missing.

Her buddy, the archer, - Frank Zhang, unclaimed - is also part of the Fifth Cohort. But it's not him they meet - it's a boy way too familiar to be a coincidence - three times today.

"You know me, don't you? You know where I come from?" He snarls, and the boy denies it.

Shadows start curling at his feet - and he's told later that his eyes darken to black from their usual forest green. Perseus is a second away from killing the little lying gremlin when Praetor Arellano shows - and he immediately reverts to parade rest.

She doesn't ask - and he doesn't volunteer an answer. He leaves the guy trembling - and flustered, for some reason - and goes with the Praetor to his "test".

Hazel is having a very bad year. A very bad life, to be true, but mostly, a bad year.

She died, and she was walking aimlessly for years - until she met a boy. She thought, initially, that was a god - for his beauty was insurmountable.

He talked with her - he was named Perseus Jackson. He was powerful and kind - but still a mortal, so she latched into him. Hazel isn't a good person - her mother always told her that - and she used his kindness to drawn just a little of his powers. Just enough.

When the Doors opened, she was strong enough to escape - even if she left Perseus drained for a week, apparently. Hazel didn't go far - she got caught by Ceres.

Ceres - who was in her greek form - took pity of her and brought her to Hazel's father and stepmother, pleading for her usefulness in the war to come. The dead aren't their domain - but as long as Pluto didn't discover it, they would turn a blind eye.

Her brother - who was the first bridge between the two demigod settlements - took her to Nova Roma. She adapted - she learned about the ending of segregation and the world they now lived - and made friends - Frank and Jason.

But she never forgot the boy who gave her the chance, the chance to be more than the cursed child Marie Levesque told her she was. Her curse is supposed to be washed away by a descendant of Pluto.

Perseus gave her a chance, and now he is probably her salvation from this poisoned existence. He is in Nova Roma, and both Hazel and Nico are too ungrateful, too proud, too involved in the gods' plans to help him.

Her father's curse rang true - for children of Zeus aren't supposed to control unaltered energy through minerals. Metal is not theirs to use - and Hazel is paying the price.

Perseus does well in his test - so well, the First Cohort wants him. He is not generally rude, but the way Octavian - their apparent Centurion and Leader of the Augurs (the priests of Apollo) - calls him "Excellent, for a colored one with a graecus name" makes him mad.

So he rejects Octavian - no one gets to mock his name, the slur for greeks matched with the blatant racism almost makes him clock the guy in the face - and, since no other Centurion wants to go against the white supremacist, he joins the Fifth Cohort.

"Well, there's the place for filth, anyway. What could you expect from a nigger ape, like that one?"

If in the training that followed, he left Octavian unconscious - well, everyone turned a blind eye. Perseus saw the Praetor laughing discreetly from where she was polishing her spear.

He is given a bunk to sleep on, a probatio tablet and a date - it's March 18th, 2012. He remembered that, when he ran away from the House of the Wolf, was still January's first week.

Almost three months for the gods to bother with him, and he has no guesses how much time he is missing. Did his family give up on him? Did he have a family?

Perseus doesn't know. He spends the next weeks following the army's routine - wake up with dawn with the horn, muster, morning prayers, then the morning drills - stretching, an obstacle circuit of three miles with a lake in the middle and running five times around Ceres' Agri.

After the drills - which Perseus and Hazel bond over hating, because there's a lake - they go to breakfast, then classes - for the younger ones. Perseus is old enough (and did well in the school tests), so he has a free slot where he allots his power training - under Praetor Arellano's watchful gaze, as she tries and brings him to his full potential.

Reyna (as he is allowed to call her during free time) also does power training - she has a different kind of charmspeak - the kind that makes people motivated or defeated. She can make armies have a burst of energy, or drop-down with exhaustion - possibly. Nova Roma has very few wars nowadays.

There's lunch, then weaponry training - where he kicks Octavian's (and all of his little friends who look down on Perseus because of his name, his lack of family or his skin color) ass with pleasure every single day - followed by weapon cleaning - which always takes forever because Perseus has both an ax and a giant Warhammer.

On Wednesdays, they have horse and pegasi riding. Both Perseus and Hazel have it slightly different - she mounts a venti, Tempest and he mounts a hellhound, Spot. On Fridays, they have hunting lessons in Diana's Venari - which always end up with some Apollo's child or legacy waving their victory in everybody's face - except for that one time where Frank and Perseus joined forces and won in an hour.

At four p.m. every day, those who did well enough get to have two hours of free time before evening prayers, which can either be followed by dinner or competitions - wrestling and gladiator games are really popular on weekends.

Then, if it's Sunday, they are allowed to go to Mercury's Via to drink, party, dance, go to karaoke - whatever, if they're over fourteen. It seems young - but Perseus has seen younger kids, at the training camps, sneaking in wine.

If it's not Sunday - they are free to do anything if they don't drink and are in bed by 21h30. You are only excused of the routine if you are escalated for border patrol - generally twenty different people every day. Perseus's patrols are on Thursdays - because Reyna loves him. Octavian's are on Sundays - they're just not on Saturdays because he has Augur functions and is excused of everything on Saturday.

Saturdays are days of prayer - there's no training and no feasting. They go to the temples and see the Vestal Virgins - a custom Perseus though would be outdated by now - and do basic chores - like washing their togas and sheets, mending their leathers, or airing the blankets.

When Hazel's brother leaves, he actually bonds with the girl - over being a child of the Big Three, of having big expectations thrust upon them - and consequently, with Frank - who is also his bunkmate. They spend their free time on the small fountain that overlooks the aqueduct, just in front of the Vesta Temple.

It's weird to see the Vestal Virgins - they are six girls between 8 and 24, wearing white stolas and veils, of incredible beauty and vowed to modesty and chastity. They spent their days tending the fire and giving blessings, cleaning the temple, and visiting the Senatus.

They didn't choose to be priestesses of Vesta - Vesta herself chooses them, and they have to leave their families and vow their lives away for thirty years. The other priests are there of free will - they never join the Legion, if they choose to serve a specific god.

Perseus goes to his father's, Lady Proserpina's and Lady Ceres' temples regularly - if only to ask for answers. His father's priests treat him as royalty - which, to them, he probably is. There are not even legacies of Pluto, as far as they know.

Every Sunday, Perseus goes to the Comitium - while people don't generally like him, he is good in rhetoric, and well respected for a probatio - so they hear him. He is good at politics. Reyna looks like he is measuring him, when he rises to debate - like he can be the next Praetor instead of the campaigning Octavian - who the Senatus is divided into loving or hating his guts.

Perseus is happy - or something. He hates not having memories - not knowing who he is, who his mother is, pains him. He has friends - Frank, Hazel, even Reyna and Dakota, his Centurion, who lives half-drunk in wine most of the time - and a life.

It doesn't feel like his life. By the third week of his staying in Nova Roma, he starts having dreams - a blonde boy, doing everything Perseus is doing now. He is afraid of telling anyone. Perseus is already called slurs by Octavian and his hateful friends - he doesn't want to attract attention now that he is settling.

By Reyna's pictures, he finally names the blonde in his dreams. It's Jason Grace.

Jason Grace is, for lack of a better word, graceful. He is loved by everyone - so different from Perseus, who is more feared then liked - and a troublemaker - if the vision of him being whipped in Mars Ultor's training camp is to be believed.

Romans don't hesitate in corporal punishment on children. Nor in adults, either - misdemeanors are punished harshly. Perseus is lucky Octavian has no direct authority over him - the number of times he put him on his ass would get Perseus bleeding on the floor for days.

However, he didn't escape the whip completely. In his fourth week on Nova Roma, Hazel is disrespectful to one of Octavian's friends - he called her a "good piece of monkey meat" and touched her ass, so she kneeled him in the balls. Reyna is out on a mission - and the guy just happens to be Questor Cicero.

Questor Cicero is twenty-eight - and everybody believes him when he tells them Hazel kneeled him without reason - a grave offense because it can affect his descendants. Hazel gets sentenced - by the Consul, in absentia of the Praetor - to a hundred lashes.

Everyone is obliged to watch - and neither Perseus nor Frank can last after she sobs. They rise from the crowd and volunteer to take the rest of her punishment. The executioner of it - a girl named Domitia - is surprised and asks why when they rise up to take Hazel's place - not a lot volunteer, generally older siblings or partners.

Hazel protests, while she is taken by a daughter of Aesculapius, Lavinia - "No, Perseus, no, it's my fault, Frank, I can take it, please!" - But he doesn't care to hear. Hazel is a child, and something stirs inside of his memory - No child shall suffer under his watch. - He wants to stop Frank - the boy is only sixteen - but there's no stopping the guy about his best friend.

"She could take it. I just don't want to see her, or anyone I care about, do it. She is too young. A child - one that shouldn't feel the injustices of life."

"That's my best friend. I won't let her pay for something she didn't do, and I won't let Perseus do this alone."

It's rational enough that no one will see weakness when she starts whipping them. Domitia is a good girl - they become a sort of friends after it, but Perseus can never understand why the daughter of Nemesis would dispense unfair punishments.

Perseus endure the whole thing awake - the forty-five lashes, under the jeers of Octavian and his friends - and they walk out of the stage supporting one another, before collapsing in a pool of their own blood, in the arms of Caelius - the youngest of Apollo's offspring working on the hospital.

They take both of them to the UTI - he doesn't remember a thing. He wakes up three days later - they aren't allowed to use any magic to heal him, or anesthetics to numb his pain. He suffers for a week, while his godly blood slowly heals him.

Hazel sits by their bedside - he and Frank are in the same room - her own back fully healed by now - and tells him stories about how Dakota kicked Octavian's ass in training in their name, or just plays with his hair. Sometimes, when she thinks he is asleep, she cries - it's heartbreaking.

Reyna comes back by the time Frank is out of the hospital - Perseus moved to much and his stitches came out - and is fueled by rage. This kind of punishment is hers to give - and with through interrogation before - and she has been trying to eradicate them for years.

She does insist on an interrogation with Aurum and Argentum - perhaps because she knows what a sweetheart Hazel is. She uncovers the whole story - how Cicero called her names and sexually harassed her - and the guy is stripped off his post and exiled - sexual harassment is a crime punishable by lashing, but together with lying to a court of law and supplanting his direct superior - oh well, he is not coming back for the next five years.

With Hazel's absolving, the doctors are allowed to heal them with magic - but it's too late. They can repair the nerves and muscles, take away all the pain - but the flesh will remain scarred.

Their backs are now a crisscross of scar tissue - it's a reminder of Nova Roma's failings - and he revels on taking his shirt off to drills, even if Frank is ashamed of it, for some reason.

Praetor Arellano thinks "Perseus' loyalty to the Roman Law and his Cohort" is enough to give him an SPQR tattoo instead of his probatio tablet. He didn't cry when they put the mark of his father on his arm - just later, in his bunk, for the eleven-year-old that was tattooed together with him.

After the tattoo, Perseus discovers he has money. Like, really, lots of money in the bank - which is named after his father, who is their patron god - and apparently filled his account with denars. Perseus solves to donate part of it - and part of it he keeps because his wages as a foot soldier are meager.

Hazel, on the other side, is brimming with remorse - and protectiveness. She will do her absolute best to protect Perseus Jackson - this is the second time he saves her. She can't tell him anything - but she can make his life as easy as possible.

Hazel dreams about Frank - Frank, and a terrible price that is a piece of wood - and she thinks she likes him, even if he is older and braver than she'll ever be.

It's June 18th - and Perseus has been in Camp for three months when the war games take an unexpected turn.

Frank is leading the Fifth Cohort - Dakota is hangover somewhere - and their battle formation is impeccable. They also have the two biggest powerhouses - Perseus and Levesque.

Hazel - while a child of Jupiter - is unable to fly - or any air or climate control. Her power lies on energy - publicly, she controls lighting and thunder - and can get bolts to basically incinerate whole canons or dismantle phalanges.

Perseus, however, can raise skeleton soldiers to fight for him - and stone spikes to block his enemies. His vines are of no use - the First Cohort has two sons of Ceres who out-do him any day. He can also use the shadows to confuse their rivals or make the ground tremble - under the cost of their own stability.

Frank is very proud of having such powerful and amazing people as friends. He didn't expect Perseus of Styx, the boy who didn't have to fight to be recognized - the one who came with a goddess at his back and muscles in his arms and a father on his blood - to be friends with Frank.

He is a very okay guy, you see. Frank had - has - three best friends, but no one openly dislikes him. He doesn't have someone - he has no use for quick tumbles under the cloak of darkness, and that is all people like him can ever have.

But he is not like Perseus or Jason. He doesn't defy Octavian. He was too anxious to muster the courage to volunteer to take Hazel's punishment alone - Perseus had to do it first.

He is not like them. He isn't anything like his mother. Frank feels happy, at least, that at those little things like war games he has better strategies than anyone else. It was Perseus who motivated him to take the lead while Dakota is otherwise incapable - under Hazel's cheerful applause.

This time, there are elephants involved - Perseus loves elephants - and they burst through their rival's doors - the 12th consecutive victory for the Fifth Cohort since Perseus arrived.

Gwen - the only openly ficatrix girl that Perseus knows, a Jewish daughter of Venus Genetrix - dies probably by Octavian's hand - and doesn't stay dead.

This evokes Lord Mars Ultor - who claims Frank, gives him a quest to find Letum and ropes Perseus into it - "Your father's domain, your responsibility" - so they choose Hazel as a third member - because who else - and get in a car to go to Alaska.

Before that, for Dakota's negligence, the Fifth Cohort is passed to newly-coined Centurion Frank - with Hazel as his second in command, while Gwen - who is not respected because of her preferences - steps down the second position to go study - apparently, she wants to be a teacher.

They have to be back by June 24th - or die. That gives them six days - it's at least two days going and two days back from San Francisco to Alaska, so they have two extra days to localize and rescue Letum.

Hazel, Frank, and Perseus battle the karpoi in Mendocino - this time, they're easily defeated, because no one leaves Hazel alone. Frank actually kills a lot of them - under the sheer appreciation of both his very supportive friends.

They see Polybotes army - and run away in their car, which crashes in the front of the R.O.F.L.

Perseus IM's Reyna - he thinks it necessary, for she is their Praetor, their leader. Hazel is right by his side - and then goes to call her brother - which he doesn't stick around for, examining the drachmas - the weird graecus' coins that Perseus recognizes

Iris remembers Perseus of someone. He doesn't know who, or why, but that night, for the first time in months, he doesn't dream of Jason Grace. He dreams of red hair spilled into the snow, blond curls around his fingers, a mechanic leg whirring in his ear, a spear coated with blood, shoes with wings and pan pipes - and wakes up crying for a past he doesn't remember.

He hugs the tie-dye bag against his chest - and cries. Perseus doesn't care - his chest literally aches with missing, for someone he doesn't know.

Frank doesn't ask questions when he finds Perseus crying. Frank cried a lot when he first got to Nova Roma.

"Are you missing someone?"

"I'm missing everything" And that's how Frank discovers Perseus doesn't remember anything at all.

Everything spills up - Lady Lupa's house, the dreams about Jason, the way he just dreamed of what could possibly be his friends, and what if he was a graecus like Octavian said - and Frank does not judge him.

He knows what it is to have a gigantic secret pressing upon his shoulders - and he has known Perseus for three months now. He knows Perseus is a trustworthy person.

"We'll discover who you are - but if you don't like it, we won't judge you. It doesn't matter what your past life has been like, it doesn't matter if you're a graecus - you're one of us now."

Because Frank is the absolute best - Perseus can't think of a friendship he deserves less than Frank's.

They trade stories about their rage against the gods - things they would never be able to utter at home. Their lives, their insecurities, their shared hate of Octavian's racist ass - everything they can share.

Frank tells Perseus about the piece of wood - which is very important when Perseus tells Frank that, sometimes, he can conjure a weird green fire of which he has little control over, so is better to keep that wood far away from him.

Some things are kept in secret - Frank is not sure Perseus will be repelled by his preferences, by the way, no woman ever caught his eye - and Perseus is afraid of telling Frank about the way that, sometimes, he wants to see the world burn, skeletons beneath his feet and blood coating his hands.

They travel through Portland - which means half the journey is done - and meet Ella - which Perseus immediately wants to take away from the creepy old dude because that's a child.

Ella is hungry and cold and in pain - and neither Perseus nor his quest mates are having that.

So he does a gamble with Creepy Old Dude and Lady Terra - which he isn't sure is in their side - and kills him. Because he is not dealing with a creepy old man who is trying to capture children, even if those children are monsters.

They take Ella with them - she's such a small, innocent girl-bird. They can't send her to Nova Roma alone - they would either kill her, hunt her or use her as entertainment - and they can't stop the mission, so there's that.

Hazel and Frank are sharing memories - with each other and Perseus. Perseus himself has no private memories to talk about - except for his dreams of Jason, which he already told Frank and now relays to Hazel.

Ella says is because their destinies are connected - says that their curses will be gone by their hands. Frank gives Hazel his piece of wood - "I would give it to both of you, but your fire is weird" - And Hazel tells them about being dead.

Perseus has an inkling of suspicion - that maybe - just maybe - he brought Hazel back. Maybe that's why his memories are gone. Either that - or he has a sibling, and wouldn't that be amazing? Siblings, cousins - a giant family. Just for him.

He doesn't ask though - because Hazel is sad and he is not an insensitive ass.

They head to the Amazon Headquarters - where Perseus has the amazing idea of going in, even if he knows Amazons just have one utility for men - sex.

They get caught - just this time, while Hylla does recognize Perseus, she is grateful. Perseus did kill Circe, yes, but he didn't free any pirates - Hylla and Reyna sailed away and never got any trouble.

Hylla is grateful for Perseus - but she cannot help him or Frank - Amazons are misandry warriors, and they are too young to be lovers, but too old to be reliable to let go. So they lock them up, and Hylla and Hazel make a plan to free them.

Otrera is dangerous - because the Amazons will follow anyone, they aren't connected to any goddess. So, when Perseus shadow travels from his cage with Frank, Hylla helps Perseus - who is way too tired - to mount Tempest - Hazel's venti - so that they can reach Letum - or, how Hylla calls him, Mors.

They go North - then further North - to the house of Frank's Grandma.

Everything goes the same - Frank's Grandma is cryptic, Mars appears, the house catches fire, they flee. A bird is seeing flying out of the window - but if it's her or no, they don't know.

Frank and Perseus discover they are related - by a lot of generations, but does it matter really? They are shield brothers - and fight in the same Cohort, for the same Rome.

Hazel feels lucky - both her best friends are related to Pluto. Both can be the one to save her - and she really hopes is not Perseus, for she can't own him any more debts.

Frank tries to control his abilities - and between Perseus' own training and Hazel's unwavering belief on him, they get him to shapeshift. Some. He is not good at it at all - but he'll get there.

They don't fear Hazel - not even when gold slips between her fingertips. Perseus calls her sister, for their connection shall be forged on metal and fire.

They fly to Alaska - this time, Perseus entrusts Ella to a General skeleton and tells him to take her somewhere safe.

During the travel, they cuddle together - all three of them - to share body warmth. Hazel is flushed - for she never had such close contact with a boy, least a boy she really likes, like Frank.

Frank, on the other side, has never been so close to a boy as he is to Perseus now. Perseus is just a brother to him - but he can't help but blush like a virgin maiden.

Perseus observes the situation with confusion - for he doesn't understand Hazel's flustered expression - which makes her look a lot like her brother any time Perseus even glances at the guy - nor Frank's blushing cheeks - which must be because of the cold.

Perseus almost drowns on Earth - the single thing he fears the most, in his own element. It pains him, and he wants to destroy Lady Terra for her trickery and mockery.

They stay in a little motel, just out of the way. No way that Frank nor Perseus would make Hazel go back to where she was abused and mistreated.

They shared basically everything in the past few days - they know almost everything about each other. Hazel tells Perseus she knows him - but is under oath to not tell anything.

Perseus is frustrated - but that is Hazel. Soft, trustworthy Hazel. She isn't doing this to hurt him. Her brother, on the other hand, can go to hell. He obviously knows Perseus - but lies to him. Explicitly. Nico Di Angelo is as bad as the gods are in Perseus' eyes.

He can't sleep - he keeps dreaming of the Earth swallowing him like it did many of his enemies - and Frank hugs him as Hazel inches closer to their shared embrace - it feels, for the first time since he woke up, like family.

They fight against Alcyoneus. Frank frees Letum - waisting part of his life on it, literally - Hazel takes on Alcyoneus - vengeance for herself - and Perseus raises an army to fight against the Undead Roman one - it's easy to defeat them, and then turn them against the giant once he has the Twelfth Legion Eagle.

Perseus - and his army that is getting harder and harder to maintain - helps Frank (who has finally managed to shapeshift) and Hazel to drive away Alcyoneus - and finally kill him, once he is out of Alaska.

They head back to Nova Roma - Hazel on her venti, Tempest, with Frank as an eagle and Perseus mounting Spot - the hellhound he was able to call from Nova Roma - pushing a chariot of Imperial Gold weapons - something rare and essential.

They meet Mrs. O'Leary - another hellhound - Blackjack - a hellhound that can speak with Perseus - Ella - who apparently found safety - and Nico Di Angelo with the cyclops Tyson - which immediately spark Perseus memories, even if he has no time to think about it.

Perseus leads the Romans - they look at him, and see the boy that has spent three months with them and three months with Lady Lupa, the boy who has been invaluable for Nova Roma's safety - their own Julius Caesar, their Augustus.

He fights against Polybotes one on one. Polybotes may be the bane of Neptune - but Perseus is also an earthshaker. He makes the Earth - Lady Terra's earth, who they are oh so proud of, the earth that swallowed him - fight against her own son.

With help from Terminus - and lots of backup from the army, his army - Polybotes is gone. The monsters - defeated.

There are thirteen dismemberments and fifty-three gravely injured. These are rushed to the hospital, while the other 184 soldiers rest and prepare for the burials.

Thirty-eight dead - men and women alike - plus nine that succumbed to their injuries. They do the procession - followed by cremation and the burial of the ashes in the temple of Pluto.

What follows is the eulogy - and the laurels. The families who have dead members are given money and prestige - it bothers Perseus. Is not enough - it won't fullfill their childrens, siblings and friends places.

Then come the laurels of the living. Frank, Hazel, Di Angelo, and Reyna are awarded Civic Crowns - the second biggest award any commander can win for battle. Everyone else is rewarded Golden Crowns - the fourth-highest decoration of battle, for their bravery.

Perseus himself is the most celebrated - he not only wins a Grass Crown (Corona Obsidionalis) for being credited for saving the whole Legion - he charms the Senatus with his acts of heroism - enough that they give him the Praetor Peregrinus title - for he also has a reputation of a good politician, as he often spoke on the Forum - while Reyna holds to the Praetor Urbanus one.

Frank himself also gains a promotion - he is now Legatus Legionis - the overall Legion commander - a title that was vacant since Jason Grace rose to Praetor, but with him missing for six months - it is time to fulfill both positions. Hazel raises to be Centurion of the Fifth Cohort.

The Consul holds the ceremony for both of their awards - where they vowed to serve Nova Roma with their lives, to put Nova Roma above their personal lives and interests - and later, they feast.

Perseus is happy with his new position - While Reyna is in charge of all judicial matters - the matters of the law - he is in charge of all defense, war and foreign matters.

That's why - when Lady Juno gives back his memories - he is infuriated. Not only he has a whole life waiting for him - one that conflicts directly with his new life - he has now a giant pile of paperwork.

The first thing he does - still in his toga praetexta, the worst garment to ever be done, even if he pities Reyna for having to use a stola on most occasions - is to punch Nico di Angelo in the face.

Then he hugs him. The boy apologizes - stuttering through words - promise to make up for it - and promptly leaves to not be seen again.

Perseus goes to the Senatus, and tell the truth: Lady Juno has sent him a vision - and in the war to come, they have to fight alongside the greeks.

Octavian wants to discredit Perseus for being a graecus. It doesn't work - for the Romans love their new Praetor - and Octavian wasn't even in the battle.

That night, Perseus doesn't even remember Jason Grace - he is just a shadow of some dreams he had for two weeks, more nightmarish than not. He dreams of Nico di Angelo - who is walking around ruins - and fears for the life of the boy who betrayed him.

He doesn't think much about it.

Perseus shadow travels to his mother - not yet to Camp, he is not ready to see them yet, and Hera/Juno told him they are coming, so it would be a waste of his energy - and hugs her for about four hours before his duties call him back.

She is happy to see him alive and well - even if she doesn't like he is fighting in yet another war for the gods. He doesn't like it either - after this, he is retiring and making them promise to never bother him again.

Perseus spends the next days preparing - for his friends, for his two lives to collide - and working his very difficult political job - Nova Roma is a homophobic and racist place, and he won't stand for other people like Gwen to be killed for it - he isn't tolerating "ficatrix" instead of lesbians or the clearly prejudiced priests anymore.

He has a long way to go. But it's fine - he and his friends are the government. Talking about his friends...

"Call me Percy"

[felicia-cat-hardy]

Max Minghella On 'The Handmaid's Tale,' His Dad, Romance, & 'Spiral'

Max Minghella is sitting in his backyard in the LA sunshine, his t-shirt an homage to the French filmmaker Mia Hansen-Løve, his adopted shepherd mix, Rhye, excited by the approach of a package courier.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks — the dog, not me — tenderly.

Minghella, who at 35 has dozens of screen credits to his name, is best known as The Handmaid’s Tale’s cunning chauffeur Nick Blaine, a character who it’s difficult to imagine saying sweetheart. In airless Gilead, of course, a cautious hand graze with Elisabeth Moss’ June can pass for a big romantic gesture. In a Season 1 episode featuring child separation and hospital infant abduction, Nick’s major contribution is to trade stolen glances with a sex slave while “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” pumps discordantly along. I ask Minghella about playing the series’ closest approximation to a dreamy male lead against the show’s dark narrative of female subjugation.

“I know this is not the answer you want to hear,” Minghella says with none of Nick’s hesitation. “But I like that stuff, right? In the pilot, I think Nick only had a handful of lines. It wasn't clear that this is what the character would turn into. And it's quite fortunate for me personally, because I'm not a massively sort of intellectual person in my real life. I love Fifty Shades of Grey. That's like my Star Wars. It suits me to play a character like him.”

Minghella surmises that this enduring romanticism is an outcome of nurture. His father, the late British director Anthony Minghella, made grand romantic dramas like Cold Mountain and The English Patient. And there was the young, cinema-mad Max sitting on the living room sofa, absorbing everything. “It’s taken me a long time to understand this,” he says of his prolonged childhood exposure to love stories. “My dad made The English Patient when I was 10. So it was two years of watching the dailies to that movie and then watching 50 cuts of it. And then [The Talented Mr.] Ripley he made when I was 13, and it was the same thing.” These were an adolescent Max Minghella’s alternative to reruns. “I think they did shape my perspective on the world in a lot of ways, specifically The English Patient. That was a complicated love story, and I wonder sometimes how much it's affected my psychology.”

Some sons rebel; others resemble. Minghella’s co-star O-T Fagbenle, who plays June’s other lover from before the time of Gilead, got his first job acting in Anthony Minghella’s romantic crime film Breaking and Entering. “Anthony is one the kindest, most beautiful men that I've ever had the privilege of working with before,” Fagbenle says. “And Max has his gorgeous, sensitive, open-minded soul.”

Though Minghella spent his childhood on the set of The Talented Mr. Ripley, playing an uncredited Confederate soldier role in Cold Mountain, and tooling around with a Super-8 camera Matt Damon gave him, he insists his upbringing was normal. He grew up in South Hill Park overlooking Hampstead Heath in London with his father and mother, the choreographer Carolyn Choa. (Minghella also has a half-sister, Hannah Minghella, who is now a film executive.) Yes, technically, it was London, but that’s not how it seemed. “I feel like I grew up in a very small town. Every school I went to was in Hampstead. I was born in Hampstead,” Minghella says of the small map dot of his life before university. “When I went to New York, I felt I was going to the big city.”

Despite his illustrious surname, movie-watching was far from restricted to the classics. “Beverly Hills Cop is definitely the movie I remember having an unhealthy obsession with. I think I saw it when I was 5 for the first time, and I'd watch it just two or three times a day for years. I'm just obsessed with it.”

Plenty of actors can trace their love of movies back to a love of stories, but for Minghella the relationship seems to flow in reverse. When he left for Columbia University, Minghella opted to study history for its connection, through storytelling, to film. It was during the summers between his years of college that he started taking acting more seriously. Before his graduation, he’d already appeared in Syriana, starring Damon and George Clooney. Soon, he’d make a splash as Divya Narendra in The Social Network in 2010 and be cast in Clooney’s Ides of March. As all young actors eventually must, Minghella moved to Los Angeles.

It’s been over a decade since he last lived on the Heath, but, perhaps unusually for a person who’s chosen his profession, Minghella is adamantly not a “shapeshifter,” in his words. Home for Christmas this year, he started sifting through old journals stored at his mother’s house, “just like scraps of writing from when I was extremely young up through my teenage years,” before coming to America. “It was hilarious to me,” Minghella says of staring at his childhood reflection. “My review of a movie at 7 years old is pretty much what my review of a movie at 35 will be. My taste hasn't changed much. And when I sort of love something, I do tend to continue to love it.”

Which brings us back to his enduring love of romance, born of his bloodline, which is all over Minghella’s own 2018 directorial debut. Teen Spirit is a hazily lit film about a teenage girl from the Isle of Wight — the remote British island where Max’s father Anthony was born — who enters a local X-Factor-style singing competition. (It stars Minghella’s rumored girlfriend of several years, Elle Fanning.) The story is small, but its crescendos are epic.

Minghella calls the movie — an ode to the power of the pop anthem — “embarrassingly Max.” Max loves a good music-driven movie trailer — he’s watched the one for Top Gun: Maverick “many” times. And Max loves the rhythmic beats of sports movies like Friday Night Lights. Max loves movies with excesses of female energy, like Spring Breakers. He likens Teen Spirit to an experiment, his answer to the question, “Can I take all these things that I love and find a structure that can hold them?” The result is a touching “hodgepodge” of Minghella’s fascinations, inspired by the songs from another thing he loves: Robyn’s 2010 album Body Talk (itself a dance-pop meditation on love).

Minghella hasn’t directed any films since, but he sees now how making movies fits his personality — organized, impatient — more organically than starring in them does. Directing also helped him to appreciate that acting is “much harder than I was giving it credit for,” which, in turn, has made him like it more. Besides The Handmaid’s Tale currently airing on Hulu, Minghella appears in Spiral, the ninth installment in the Saw horror franchise and, from where I’m sitting, at least, a departure.

“I do like horror movies, but the thing that was really kind of magical is that I was feeling so nostalgic, right? We talked about Beverly Hills Cop earlier. I was just missing a certain kind of movie,” Minghella explains of his new role as Chris Rock’s detective partner. He was yearning for simple story-telling, like in the buddy cop movies of his youth, especially 48 Hours. It almost goes without saying that a buddy cop movie is another kind of love story. “And then I read the script and it was very much in that vein.” He clarifies: “I mean, it's also extremely Saw. It's very much a horror movie.”

His renewed excitement for acting translated onto The Handmaid’s Tale set, too. Veteran Hollywood producer Warren Littlefield describes casting Minghella in the role of Nick as an effortless choice: “Sometimes you agonize over things. [Casting Minghella] was instantly clear to me, and everyone agreed.” Now in its fourth season, the tone of the Hulu hit is graver than ever. Gilead is more desperate to maintain its rule, and so more audacious in its violence. Perhaps it’s fitting that the show’s romantic gestures finally match that scale.

In one particularly soaring moment, Elisabeth Moss’ June and Minghella’s Nick meet at the center of a bridge and crush into a long kiss. It’s been two seasons since they held their newborn daughter together, and it’s hard to see how this isn’t their last goodbye. Littlefield, like Minghella, is here for the romance among the rubble. “It's spectacular when they come together. In the middle of all of the trauma is this epic love story,” he says. “Max is just magnificent in the role.”

For Minghella, the satisfaction is more personal. He works with good people, he likes his scenes, and he thinks Nick is a complex character. Minghella read The Handmaid’s Tale for the first time in college in 2005. Like all the things Minghella has ever liked, he still likes it. He’s as proud of this most recent season as he is the show’s first. And he watched Nick and June race recklessly back to each other across the expanse of the screen exactly how you might expect. “I watched it like a fan girl.”

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[letterboxd]

Generating Magic.

As Studio Ghibli’s first fully 3DCG-animated feature film, Earwig and the Witch, lands in theaters, director Gorō Miyazaki chats with Toussaint Egan about the magic of flawed protagonists, the joys of 1970s anime and seeing Star Wars with his dad.

“When I make an animation, it’s not that I don’t want adults to enjoy it, but I really want to make films for children to watch.” —Gorō Miyazaki

“For Gorō, Hayao Miyazaki is not a father but rather a tall wall.” That’s long-time Studio Ghibli producer Toshio Suzuki speaking to the Los Angeles Times in a 2013 interview about Gorō Miyazaki, the eldest scion of one of Japan’s most celebrated directors. For over a decade and a half, the former landscaper-turned-director’s career in anime has been attached to expectations associated with his father Hayao Miyazaki, whose body of work spanning more than half a century is an exemplar of the medium.

Despite, as Suzuki-san put it, “the fate of one who has a legendary father”, and a less-than-enthusiastic reception to his 2006 directorial debut Tales from Earthsea, Miyazaki Junior has forged ahead with the express goal of asserting his own identity as a creator, with a body of work that is distinct and apart from that of Studio Ghibli’s most famous co-founder.

No more is this apparent than in his 2014 animated series Ronja, the Robber’s Daughter, a first for both Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli as not only his (and the studio’s) first animated series, but the studio’s first fully CG-animated work. While the elder Miyazaki has only lately come to express interest in CG animation in the form of his 2018 short film Boro the Caterpillar, Gorō, by contrast, has wholeheartedly embraced the medium, marking a clear and distinct break between his own aesthetic sensibilities and those of his father.

“If I were to create [a] hand-drawn TV anime series now, I would only be following a path carved out by Hayao Miyazaki and others as a latecomer,” Miyazaki told Asahi Shimbun in 2015. “Well, I wouldn’t like that. Expression by computer graphics remains incomplete, so both the workers and myself believe that there still remains something that we could do.” In choosing to pursue CG animation, Gorō Miyazaki is free to be held to no precedent other than his own.

Earwig and the Witch, Miyazaki’s first feature-length film since 2013’s From Up on Poppy Hill and Studio Ghibli’s first-ever feature-length CG-animated film, is another push forward. Adapted from Diana Wynne Jones’ 2011 children’s book, the film was made for Japanese television, but is being released theatrically elsewhere. The film tells the story of Earwig, a clever and precocious young orphan who, unbeknownst to her, is the daughter of a powerful witch on the run from malevolent forces. When she is adopted by the witch Bella Yaga and a mysterious shapeshifter known as the Mandrake, Earwig must use every ounce of her wits, charm and guile to assert command of her new life and learn the secret of her foster parent’s history.

Early Letterboxd reviews for Earwig and the Witch are mixed—such is the fervor for Ghibli’s hand-drawn masterpieces, comparisons will always exist, and there’s a common feeling that the film’s ending is abrupt (possibly setting things up for a sequel). Those who have enjoyed Earwig and the Witch, however, write that it is “solid, undeniably charming and lovely” and hope that “people who watch this will go in with an open mind and [refrain from] judging Earwig unfairly”.

We talked with Miyazaki over Zoom to discuss his motivations for adapting the book, the anime and films that have inspired and motivated him throughout his career, and what he would most want to be remembered for as a director.

Most of your films are adaptations of writers like Ursula Le Guin, Astrid Lindgren and now Diana Wynne Jones. What did you feel when you read the original Earwig and the Witch novel for the first time? What inspired you to turn it into a film? Gorō Miyazaki: When I first read the book, there were two things that really stuck out as very interesting to me. The first one was the protagonist, Earwig. I love the fact that she wasn’t portrayed as your typical, good obedient girl. She’s someone who, when she knows what she wants in her life, in order to achieve those goals, she doesn’t hesitate to use people or make people do as she wants them to do. And even in scenes where something bad happens and she could cry, she doesn’t cry. She’s strong-willed and works to overcome those challenges. She acts and works to come up with ideas of how she could overcome these challenges, so those traits of that character really appealed to me.

The other thing was how Jones portrays the concept of magic in the book. Bella Yaga, the witch, while she’s making all these magical spells and potions in the workshop, there’s also a physical sort of work at play. She has to blend these elements and ingredients, the mystical and the physical, and mix them together. So to see someone create magic in that way was a very intriguing idea to me.

What kind of stories do you typically enjoy reading? What are some of your favorite books, and what are you reading right now? In terms of fiction and fantasy, I’m a fan of Dianne Wynne Jones’ writing. What I like about her stories is that they have a lot of quirky characters. Sometimes the protagonist will be someone who would be quite difficult to interact with in real life. The characters have flaws and dimensions. They’re not often one-dimensional, neither good or bad. Her characters have different sides to them that make them really attractive and charming. In terms of books I regularly read though, I tend to prefer reading more non-fiction books than fantasy.

How did the experience of working on Ronia, a 3DCG-animated series, prepare you for the experience working on this film? Do you feel you’ve grown as a director since your last film in 2011? It’s hard to tell whether you’ve grown or not by yourself, but in terms of working in 3DCG with Ronja, the Robber’s Daughter, I was able to see what the possibilities of working with 3DCG were in terms of being able to [make] the characters act more, perform more, and show a different range of emotions. With Earwig and the Witch, I wanted to make it a story that was less driven by the [narrative], but driven by the characters and their performances, such as Earwig’s reactions, expressions, thoughts and feelings. I would say that the experience I had with Ronja was very much a learning experience and place to experiment with different ideas. Each episode of Ronja would have a different challenge—where for one episode I would try to make it into more of a comedy, the next episode would be just the two main child characters talking with each other, and then there were episodes with elements of horror or violence featured throughout. It was a place for me to explore and experiment with what was possible through 3DCG animation.

Writer-director Gorō Miyazaki.

What were some of your favorite animated films growing up that you return to for either inspiration and entertainment? I try to avoid going back to reference these animations or to emulate exactly what they did, but in terms of memorable and impressive anime from when I was growing up, Hayao Miyazaki’s Lupin the Third: The Castle of Cagliostro is one that I still hold dear. I wouldn’t call myself a hardcore movie or anime fan. My generation grew up during a period when anime became huge in Japan, so Leiji Matsumoto’s Space Battleship Yamato (1977) and Yoshiyuki Tomino’s Mobile Suit Gundam (1979–1981) were very popular at the time. I remember watching those and them leaving a big impression on me, as well as films like Star Wars (1977). I remember going to the theater when it first came out and that had a big impact on me.

A while back I was wondering who I went to see Star Wars with when it first came out, I couldn’t remember who I actually went with. So when I went back to my parents’ house and we were talking about this, it turns out the entire family went to go see the film. So I actually went to go see Star Wars with my father, Hayao Miyazaki! The second one, The Empire Strikes Back, my mother told us, “I don’t need to go and see this,” and so I remember going to see that one with my dad and my brother as well.

Your films often touch on the relationship between a child and their parent. How has your relationship with your son inspired your work? What films do you love watching with him? I’ll usually go and watch whatever film he wants to see [laughs]. Most recently we went to go see the new Demon Slayer movie. I thought it was very interesting, I felt like it had a freshness about it. Even with hand-drawn animation, I could tell it was done by a younger, ambitious generation of animators trying to accomplish something new.

What have been some of your favorite 3DCG animated films in recent years that have inspired you as a creator working in the medium? I love all of Pete Docter’s works at Pixar. I haven’t seen Soul yet, his latest film, but I loved Inside Out and I loved Monsters, Inc. when it first came out. I really enjoyed Tian Xiao Peng's Monkey King: Hero Is Back. What I loved about their films was that, as the audience, you could feel the energy, devotion and enthusiasm of the creators wanting to create something great using CG through the art form of animation.

As a director, what kind of stories are you most interested in telling? What would you ideally want your work to be known and remembered for? When I make an animation, it’s not that I don’t want adults to enjoy it, but I really want to make films for children to watch. Something that will inspire them in how to live their lives as they grow older and go into the world, something that might encourage them and offer hope. In terms of how I’d like to be remembered, I hope people will remember me as someone who always came up with something different than what they would’ve expected, and [from] what he did before. Not inconsistent, but someone who was always exploring new and challenging possibilities.

Related content

Ghibli Magic Moments: the Letterboxd Show podcast episode featuring Adam Kempenaar, David Jenkins and Tasha Robinson

Ghibli Goes Digital: a chat with Ghibliotheque’s Jake and Michael about the studio’s works heading to Netflix

The Top 100 Anime Series on Letterboxd

Follow Toussaint on Letterboxd

‘Earwig and the Witch’ is distributed in the US via GKIDS, and will be in limited theatrical release in the US from February 3, and on HBO Max from February 5. A digital release follows on March 23 with Blu-ray and DVD April 6.

[jadienjaystoriesandart]

So, I don’t post alot of my Lore Based stuff. But, I’ve hit a creative burst since watching Dream SMP. And given, I have a whole truck full of Minecraft Lore/World Building, thought I’d share some of it.

I’ve posted some on my Wattpad, but this post is going into the many species and races of my Minecraft World. Later I might post about how this fits into some made up Lore I did for the Dream SMP. 

I’ve always pulled inspiration from other creators, so I will be sure to mention them should I know who they are. 

Also also, this whole thing was made possible by my long time friends on wattpad. Bloxiegirl123 and @littlewolf651 They both gave me so much inspiration for this stuff through many talks and us just goofing off. 

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Netherains: These are the people of the Nether, under the rule and protection of Herobrine. They live in the inner cities of the Nether, when we the players spawn there it’s on the out skirts, and look like more taller and ‘humanish’ piglins. Who are there own species  They are a very isolated people, Netherains, having a demonic heritage, are destructive by nature. They prefer the company of themselves or close family over the company of many people. They also prefer their own kind over any other species and races of the realms. 

They have a equal mindset, both men and women are capable of being warriors, merchants, and so forth. Males typically have larger fangs, be them lower or upper jaw, and large scrunched up noses. While females have smaller noses that are flatter and tinier fangs (Think like orcs). Male ears tend to be longer and pointed, while females tend to have short ears that are also pointed. As for body builds, really that depends on parents, some are just bigger and able to gain muscles faster than others, while some are skinnier and take longer to build up. The only real difference between males and females is that the females can give birth and their physical looks.

Strangely females don’t have breasts, actually how their young feed is often from mushed up food as babies are both already with teeth in place and able to digest soft foods.  Young typically grow up fast, and by the time they reach 7 seasons of age, they are given their first weapon to train with. 

All members of the Netherain people are able to fight, regardless of their profession in life. Why do you think not many want to fight Hero’s army, it’s not just because of the mobs.  To know of a human/nether baby is in the eyes and skin tones and sometimes ears and teeth.

Netherains are of the dark/light browns and red skin tone, they are fire resistant, and their eye colors rang from common browns, blacks, to the slight less common golds and red, to the more uncommon silver and grays. Their eyes are narrowed and their color covers their whole eye with the only difference being in their pupil (should their eyes not be black). 

Their hair tends to be of the braided, with gems weaved into them. (The inner nether is very gem rich, there is a reason Hero is also considered the ‘Rich God’). Some even shave the sides for the middle to be in a pony tail. Others prefer the more wilder hair types or even dreads. 

Some facts about them. - They only use gold as a accessory or coin, but it’s considered to be of low value and do trading in gems and items. - They are a culture rich people, with many stories, superstitions, and foods. - They mostly eat spicy foods, to a normally person their ‘mild’ is very hot. - Mostly meat eaters, due to having more fanged filled mouths, babies teeth are duller until they reach 5 seasons old. - Some live in villages while some live in the city, each set of people has it’s own brand of fire magic used, from lava, lightening, and some even coat themselves in fire. However, they don’t see a difference, Village is just like saying ‘I come from the west and use lightening’.  - They used to be at war, until Hero united them.

Valkyries: These are the race of the Aether people, some call them Aetherains too but most prefer Valkyrie. They are under the rule of Notch and some even are his personal guards and fighters.  Their main job however is guiding souls to the afterlife and protecting their homeland , the Aether or Ether. 

Some call them ‘angels’ though this is just a preference really, and really just less of a mouthful for humans. Honestly, Valkyries don’t really care being called them.  Anywho, this race is very social with each other, relationships range from Platonic to Romantic. They help groom each other wings, share the news of the day like this, and they enjoy being touched, held, cuddled.

Valkyries can have relationship and kids with other Valkyries, though there isn’t much need for sex or reproductions due to them being near immortal. However, half babies are considered taboo after the last war with Herobrine. 

Typically ‘families’ have their own looks and styles. But all Valkyries have some form of light hair and eyes.  Wing types also are a family trait, some families have many wings, others have only one pair. Some have darker wing colors, some are speckled, some are just lighter, some are just one color. They range from Large, Medium, or Small in size.  Family trees tend to have their own types of magics, be it better healers, better fliers, or able to conjure weapons, some share these traits but not wing size and looks, or vice versa. (Basically some family can have the same wing look, but different magics, and the same is true in reverse.)

Valkyries have pale skin tones ranging to more yellowish hues or tanish hues. This is in their ‘human form’ in their Valkyrie form they are wind like creatures, made up of elements with vaguely ‘human’ like bodies, though some look more bird like.  Eye color ranges from the common golds, greens, to the less common teals, and the uncommon blues. Hari tends to be blond, dirty blond, or even silver and white. They like long hair, smooth, wavy sometimes, with many small things weaved into it. Some have pointed ears, some don’t, some even have feathers for ears. Some Facts: - They don’t really have a ‘gender’ concept. As they are able to turn themselves whatever gender. Though, unlike like Voidlings and Enders, they do tend to stick with one of the other after a while. Though it’s not uncommon to see some who are non-binary.  - Young grow up slowly, one of the downsides is due to their immortality slowly coming into place. This causes slow aging of the body and sometimes the mind. Unless they are hybrids of another species. - Though immortal, they can be killed through fatal wounds with weapons made by Voidlings or Netherains. But humans weapons, the only one that could remotely harm them, is the Netherite weapons. Due to being a crude recreation of Netherain weapons. 

Humans: Considered to be a pet project of Notch, that was somewhat of a disaster, and was the third creation to walk the Overworld, Villagers being the first, then Players or Spawns and Mobs being the Second.  Humans have a very short life span along with Villagers, confined to a 100 years to 150 years at best. Taking both the qualities of destruction and creation to make a race had them not be as long living.  However, humans come in ‘genders’, thought this is just because some are just born looking one way to the other or a mix. So they came up with ‘gender’s to tell them apart.  Females have breasts and give birth while males don’t. Different sex organs and such. Really this was just made for repopulation means, Notch didn’t really have ‘Male’ and ‘Female’ in mind. 

To keep it brief, as they are pretty much the same as we are. They come in many skin tones of light to dark depending on climate and area born. They also have a very complicated history with other races. It’s gotten better over the years in the future though. And sometimes they fight with each other. Most of these problems are due to Notch trying to use Destruction in their making, then he’s a Creation God. Opps. 

However, they are a culture rich race as well, and in the recent years have done some great feats with the help of other races. But their past is complicated, luckily Hero did help his brother after the second war to curb any problems later, evolution! 

Players/Spawns: This race comes in all shapes, looks, and sizes. They are created by mostly Herobrine with some help from his ‘Father’ and ‘Grandfather’. As Mobs hadn’t turned out the best as he hoped.  Having the power the ‘Respawn’ in a place they made, and can live for a few 100 years. They don’t really have a set gender or look, as they can be any and everything. Some classify them as ‘Shapeshifters’ and that is about as close as we can get to a category for them. 

They can be half Ender, Zombie, Spider, Cat, to even stranger species. Some can even have Netherain or Valkyrie traits. As when they mate, they have a change of making a Player due to near immortal or magical beings mating with humans.  Really Player as a ‘race’ is complicated as genetics play a big factor. Should a human family have any non human blood in their line, it’s very possible to give birth to a Player.

Most tend to worship Herobrine, though some do worship other gods of the world.  Eventually, they do die, but they live for longer than most would think. And their live styles are very diverse, so it’s hard to pinpoint them. They all just go under this category is they are able to ‘Respawn’. 

Not much else is known about them though, and they are very secretive about their creation myths. At least ‘OG Spawns’ are, meaning they have no other genes or blood in them other than ‘Player’ 

Some facts: - The first Spawn ever was a man named Steve, who later became immortal and the husband of Hero.  - They are the second race we know the least about. - Some call them ‘Protectors’ as they are protective of any race who can not protect themselves. - OG Spawns live with Mobs in large cities away from non-player reach. Though, it’s rare for even some Players of today to find them. Due to conflicting feels about Mobs and their need to attack humans and villagers. 

Enders: These are the tall, mysterious people of the End, under the ruling of the Queen and King, Jean and Ignis.  They are lanky, the shortest they can be is 6 feet in height, and the tallest being 13 feet tall. Long arms with claw like fingers for some, and some have very boney appearances. They are naturally skinny looking with sharpen teeth in the front and more flatten teeth in the back.

They have a very scholarly society, putting the pursuit of magics and knowledge as the highest form of profession. Being there is only one way in and out of the End, they aren’t attacked the much, and have a decent relation with their Demonic cousins of the Void. 

Their society tends to be everyone looks after everyone. There are no real ‘families’ as the young are taken care of by everyone and taught by everyone. Expecting bearers are housed in a nursery, and take care of the child, until they are old enough to walk and talk, then the children are to live with chosen Parentals until they reach Apprenticeship age, 13, and choose a profession, and live with their mentor until they are 21. 

Like their cousins, they are very possessive of things, though capable of more empathy than them. ‘Mine’ in their langue has many meanings, often it’s considered a high honor for an Ender to claim you if you are not of their race. As it can mean ‘friend’ ‘family’ ‘brother/sister’ or ‘lover’ and among other means. 

They range from purple tones to greyish tones in skin color, some even have dragon like traits though it’s noted these are of the noble statues. Eye colors rang from common purple hues and some reds, the less common blue and green hues, and the uncommon blacks and white eyes.  Hairs tend of the dark purple, black, and sometimes white, they have shorter hair styles to sometimes no hair at all. Thought long hair isn’t uncommon, it’s just less seen.

Some Facts: - They tend to have a view of being a ‘perfect race’ at least the older generation those, the newer tends to be more open minded.  - Not may outsiders are allowed into the cities, those that are don’t leave that often much less talk about it.  - They are in close contact, allies, with OG Players and Valkyries, though they tend to dislike Netherains.  - They are also a type of Shapeshifter, more so than Valkyries and Players. - They have no gender, and are born without parts to reproduce. Reproduction is done by magic/science and the ‘baby’ placed into the ‘carrier’ to grow until they are ‘cut out’ of the body. - That is considered a big deal, and takes alot out of the carrier, they are treated very well by the whole society. To harm a child or carrier is considering an offense punishable by death.

Voidlings (Demons, Daemons, Dreamons, Pure Ones): These beings go by many names, some we don’t even know of. They are the first race of beings to have ever lived, just under the Gods.  Created by the OG Gods of Destruction and Creation, (Tristan and Terrance), and they live in the Void. 

There are many sub levels of the void, the one we see of the endless pit of blackness. To two more levels that aren’t the well known, it’s thought Voidlings live on this level.  They come in two categories, those of the Destructive and Chaotic nature and those of the Creative and Orderly nature. 

Demons are more inclined to be of the Destructive and Chaotic Nature under the rule and laws of Lord Tristan. They are playful beings, loving to cause trouble and bring chaos with them. Though, they seem to dislike killing their targets. Daemons are more inclined to be of the Creative and Orderly Nature, under the rules of laws of Lord Terrance. They are stubborn, cold hearted, and harsh beings. Some have been known to kill their targets should they be displeased with them.  Dreamons are a mixed bag, some are Destructive and just playful, Some are Creative and enjoy helping, some are Orderly and a little harsh to people they see beneath them, and some are Chaotic and care little for life. It’s unsure who you get until you meet them, so be careful.

They are called ‘Pure Ones’ due to the fact they were the first race to be created by the Gods.  They do not reproduce, they are created and there is a set number of them. They are also extremely hard to kill, most can only be banished back to the Void. They each represent something, with strange names. Example, (And I’m use Dream SMP here) Eater of Dreams or Truth Where Lies Meet. 

Size is everything, it’s indicates power, the bigger you are, wide or tall, the more powerful you are. And they can take many shapes and forms. 

Some facts: - They can’t feel empathy or sympathy, but they can be possessive of things they consider ‘theirs’. - They can look human like or something indescribable, however horns tend to be a common trait - They are true shapeshifters, meaning they can take any shape they please. - They possess people they find a ‘kinship’ with, to escape the void. - In their true form, they can’t walk anywhere but the Void, thus need a vessel to do so. - To fall into the void either results in death, or becoming a Voidling yourself. It’s unsure how this happens. - Some are born a ‘Natrual vessels’ with means they are prime targets for posession from a certain Voidling. - Void/Demonic Magic is the oldest living magic and can corrupt people easily

RACES I NEED TO DO LATER

Gods- Tristan, Terrance, Hero, Notch, Victor. Sub Gods  Villagers Mobs Socrerers/Mages

[beinghumcn]

Was that [NATASHA NEGOVANLIS]? Oh no no, that was just [MIRCALLA “CARMILLA” KARNSTEIN], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [CARMILLA]. They are [THREE-HUNDRED-FORTY-ONE] years old and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

to use a gif where u can see her face or to use a gif that’s slapstick......... the answer was obvious.

how long has your character been here

roughly a month and a half !

what is your character's job

night shift archivist........ using the excuse that dc is magic and therefore an mlis is totally not required.

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom

towards the end of season two when :\ she still thinks mattie’s dead and no one cares :\ of course, i’m gonna go ahead and hc that the events of s3 have happened and she just... does not remember them bc #magic but... cannot promise the same for the movie because i Do Not Know How to watch it and... we like to pretend she’s still a vampire... which technically was stopped in s3 but shhhhhhh

has any magic affected your character

some memories have been wiped, but that’s about it!

and any other information you might find useful for us and the other members to know!!

triggers: very very brief mention of necrophilia, brief mention of imprisonment, murder, manipulation, abuse, mention of blood (brief but significant), very brief mention of war

not too much is known about her super early life. she was born in styria as mircalla karnstein to a super wealthy father ( and super emotionally unavailable who only saw her as convenient when she was old enough to be used as a bargaining chip ) and... who knows about her mother? ( whenever i refer to her mother throughout the rest of the intro, it’s not her birth mother -- just a psa! )

anyway, she was murdered at a ball, as one is. but it was all good! because her new ‘mother’ found her and resurrected her as a vampire ( for her own nefarious purposes, of course ). however, before she was able to be of any true use to her mother, her undead body was graverobbed by the necrophiliac man she was engaged to marry before her death. he kept her in a literal dungeon. which is so romantic (/s). however, sucks for him! her powers grew stronger and she managed to break free and murder his entire family so he would die sad and alone <3 romance <3

after that ordeal, she was put to work as a lure by her mother. every twenty years, they would return to styria and carmilla -- who would have some different name at that point, but one that was probably an obvious anagram -- would pretend there’d been a carriage accident or abandonment or something. she’d grow close to the girl ( sometimes seduction being involved, leaving it open to have the events of the novella have happened... minus the death ), the girl would grow weak of mind, then she’d hand the girl off to her mother to go away to some certain doom. 

also... because i love her... i want to add that, during this entire time, she had a best friend and sister of sorts ( another woman changed by her mother ) named matska ( ‘mattie’ ) who was much older than her, but humored her more idealistic views. like... man... mattie was really looking forward to killing this guy for no reason, but he’s a sensitive poet, guess she’ll find someone else :\ ( aka i just... needed to mention this legend... )

the game changed when carmilla was enlisted to lure in a girl named ell. unfortunately, she actually fell in love with her :\ their close bond was real :\ she made plans for them to escape to the usa before her mother could find them... but her mother found out about it and revealed carmilla’s vampiric nature to ell. ell, horrified, led carmilla’s mother to where they planned to meet up. and her punishment for her disobedience was, like, the best parenting ever (/s):

she watched ell get dragged away to her doom, then was sealed alive in a coffin full of blood <3 mother of the year <3

she was exhumed towards the end of wwii with all of the explosives unearthing various graves. she was found by her mother again in 1955 and her mother just didn’t have the heart to reinter her, so she was put back to work ( but at least she got to watch the moon landing with the legend mattie <3 ).

this time, she tried to ruin opportunities when she could and, instead of get close to the girl, drive her away. 

i don’t want to get too into the laura (web version) stuff because my love does not hinge on the ship, ja feel? but since she does have some memories of that, it’s important to mention!! she was assigned to go pretend to be a college student and lure various girls and, more specifically, roommates for her mother. laura was an intended target, then she showed carmilla genuine kindness and carmilla was like ‘well. guess i’ve gotta ruin an opportunity #forlove. mother’s gonna hate it but :\’

as a side-note, even though she Does Not Know This from where im pulling her in her canon, it is probably important to note that she found out her mother was actually a goddess! same! the goddess innana! spoiler: and of course you can set an angry malicious goddess free with a hug <3 but yk what fun fact: one of my first critiques over the finale was laura just..... talking for minutes on end without a heart..... but someone looked it up and apparently you can keep functioning for four minutes without a heart so?? get it girls!! also i think in the movie it turns out ell is like... evil?? but we’re ignoring that until i find a way to watch it bc <3 she doesn’t rmr it anyway <3

also some fun + relevant tidbits + hcs:

can shapeshift into a black panther. alexa, play ‘black cat’ by janet jackson. also love some pyrokinesis and potential sonic scream and invulnerability to sunlight. also love the basics of super strength and speed. also love still having to live off of human blood. also love not turning people into vampires with bites like genuinely love that otherwise there’d be a whole army. ~ she’s not like other girls vampires ~

if u cant tell im ignoring the ending ma’am she’s a vampire. apparently the movie turns her back into a vampire which we love but i... don’t have a way to watch it so i’m just going off of what i read.

another big gay. gonna start a club w bismuth.

has canonically seen many vampire movies, including the twilight movies (in which she called edward a ‘sparkly twerp’).

also canonically probably has light knowledge of the harry potter and doctor who franchises bc of laura. very hip with pop culture in spite of being over 300yrs old.

taught herself ancient sumerian because she wanted to read the epic of gilgamesh. love that for her.

inxp (leans te, but not enough for a for sure), 4w5, scorpio sun scorpio moon. affably evil <3