#Thought about not releasing it until we got further into book 9 but then decided nah. If I’m proven wrong in a few months that’s all good

[hulloitsdani]

*scratches at your writing itch more* c’mon give us more about your writing give us that good ol’ fashioned yapping

LETS FREAKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Ahem.

So if you are a tag reader and have existed on my blog for an extended period of time, then you may recall me mentioning that I really should go on a rant about Loki. Multiple times even. And there is a good reason for that— she is one of the most interesting characters to analyze and write for in feh.

That might seem like an odd claim, but you must remember that your reliable narrator finds immense joy in writing for Kiran fire emblem. Kiran is fun for a few reasons, but the work loop is what really sells it. There is a character beyond the self insert, but it must be found and then extrapolated back. Detective work goes into their analysis and then more free form creativity is employed to inflict that personality back onto the narrative. Loki provides a similar experience. She’s an almost equally blank slate. Harsh comparison considering Kiran is a non entity of a self insert, but true nonetheless. Currently, as of the very start of book 9, Loki is not much of a character. I hope to be proven wrong in the near future, but right now that is the case.

The issue can most easily be broken down into one core question: what does Loki want? No, seriously, what does she want? She’s the only reoccurring character in which we have no idea about anything that drives her. You might argue that this is supposed to be part of her mystique, but then I’d argue that you don’t understand what builds mystique. You know who also had mystique? Líf and Thrasir, Læraðor and the Healing Hands, Gullvieg, and about every other antagonistic force whose full motives were not initially clear. Just because we did not know the full extent of what drove them, did not mean that we didn’t get a sense of something they wanted. The most common thing these antagonists want is to kill our heroes, which is why conflict arises in the first place.

What does Loki want in comparison? To cause Chaos™️? That is a cop-out in the same way writing Harley Quinn as just a crazy random lady is. It is an excuse to not write a consistent character and just hoping that surface level aesthetics will carry everything on its emancipated shoulders. To what end does Loki want to cause chaos? For what reasons? What could possibly stand in her way? What conflict could arise from that? Every other character has straight forward answers to these basic questions, but even after 8 seasons of this narrative, we still don’t have anything for this lady. And that’s a blatant flaw of FEH. Which is a shame, because as I was digging to find ways to fill the gaps, some genuinely interesting ideas came up.

This starts with the FEH’s pantheon. It is a vital part of the narrative’s themes of loneliness, isolation, and connection. Being the villains 80% of the time, they are often a pure distillation of the long term effects of isolation. Hel is a fascinating introduction to this idea that gains more intrigue in retrospect. Unlike every divine encounter after her, she is the sole god we meet in book 3. It’s an unspoken rule, but they typically arise in contrasting pairs. Askr and Embla, Nifl and Múspell, Freyr and Freya, etc. It is revealed that Hel was not an exception to this rule, but had successfully killed her equal and opposite of Ymir long before she ever set foot in Askr. With no one left to naturally counter her, she’s been fueling her endless need for more power free of natural consequence. Without life, death has gone utterly power mad. Upon her throne of corpses, she is entirely isolated and free to view every breathing being as lesser. To really drive this home, they reveal that her only connection to a living thing, Eir, to be a lie. She is a need for power, left by itself to rot.

Then we have the siblings Freyr and Freya, who were implied to be the weird black sheep of the pantheon and thus only had each other. Freyr is notedly one of the few non antagonistic gods and this correlates with his apparent social life. He talks to people! Regularly! According to Peony, anytime anyone has any issue in the realm of dreams, they go to him. He has taken the time to build a community and make himself the beating heart of it. He’s getting some god damn therapy. Good for him! Freya has unfortunately done no such thing and hasn’t moved on from the harm inflicted upon them in the past. She has power, beauty, and fame, but Freyr is still the only person she has. But now, the reverse is no longer true and he’s pulling further away. This nags at the long standing wound of never being accepted and Freya sees this as rejection from the one person in this horrible cruel world who wasn’t supposed to do that to her. Everything goes to hell from there. This need for acceptance is left by itself to rot.

Now, this was supposed to be a discussion of Loki, no? Why bring this up? Well, it’s because she’s an oddity. Hel, Freya, and Freyr generally define the types of gods we see from this point onwards. We either got isolated and rocking it (Hel, Múspell), isolated and crying in the club (Freya, Gullveig, Nifl), or finally getting some god damn therapy for the isolation but ultimately not being able to fully escape it in time (Freyr, Askr). Loki is not quite any of these things. And as I was trying to rationalize why there was an exception to this theme I found, it dawned on me— it’s not that she isn’t any of these things, it’s that she’s on the verge of becoming one of them. What makes Loki unique among the pantheon is that she’s the only god we see meeting and connecting with people throughout the narrative. That’s the point. Nothing has begun to rot yet. Her powers are shapeshifting and pretending to be a person, because she’s actually on the verge of potentially becoming one.

Let’s use her dynamic with Veronica as an example. Loki genuinely likes Veronica. She finds the girl silly and cute. However, she had alterer motives from the moment they met, as she was still working for Surtr at the time and befriended the young princess so that she could be ultimately sacrificed to the rite of flames. And even outside of that, she needed her help to begin the Tempest. It was a lie from the start, and yet, Loki gives our protagonists an opening to save her. That’s fascinating. She does not value Veronica’s life or wellbeing above her schemes, but she likes her enough to actively go out of her way to give her a chance. If I didn’t know any better, that’s a fascinating set up for a long term character conflict. Loki, the chaotic trickster god plotting to bring change and ruin, vs Loki, a quirky shapeshifter lady teaching Princess Veronica funny little tricks like how to heal paper cuts and not lose her breakfast when quickly dimension hoping to the realm of the dead.

That’s so god damn fun and is a version of the character that would bring so much life to the narrative. But it’s not really what we got and might not be what we ultimately get either. And that’s okay, I’m pretty down for whatever they choose to do. But until then, Your Honor, hit that trickster god with an identity crisis. Hit her with the silly beam. Let the two tacticians hang out and be kinda toxic besties. What could go wrong? Oh, there’s a character named Baldur? Surely this won’t result in a chain of events that culminates in the end of the world.

[thinkingimmensely]

Like An Open Book X

Part 1 | Part 9 | Part 11

A/N: Hello everyone! We’re halfway through the first month of 2021 and here’s a new chapter for y’all! Comments are very much appreciated <3 I want to know what you guys think of the story so far, it also gives me motivation to write more really :D  

This chapter is quite long, I didn’t want to cut it halfway through since it breaks the momentum thingy haha, I hope you guys don’t mind and enjoy it! <3

MASTERLIST

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the Potterverse!

___________________

Remus and James had jumped into the water creating a wave that hit you, Sirius, and Peter. The boys soon started a wrestling match, with James up on Remus’ shoulders while Sirius was up on Peter’s.

You laughed as you watched Sirius successfully topple James down, winning the first round of their little wrestling match.  

It was the first time you were actually laughing out loud with people you considered as friends, you realized, and if you dwelled on the thought, you felt like crying out of the happiness that filled you right now.  

Because you were someone to them, you finally found a place where you belonged… but, will they still have you even though you had the ability to know their every nook and cranny? You knowingly frowned, then wiped it off your features.  

“I’m feeling a bit knackered, I’m going to rest for a while!” You called out to the boys and they replied with a chorus of okay’s and aright’s. You swam back to shore and got off the water with ease. You sat on the blanket Remus had spread out earlier and wrapped a towel around yourself; you were already beginning to dry, what with the sun harshly beating down on you.  

You would’ve used a drying spell but then you already used that whip earlier and you wouldn’t want to try and press the Ministry’s buttons with using so much underage magic. Thank Merlin Legilimency couldn’t be detected then, since you’d no doubt be behind bars with the number of times you’ve used it outside of Hogwarts.

You sighed, you wondered what Lily was doing right now; you hoped she was having as much fun as you were. She had written to you a few days ago saying that although she still finds James and company (excluding Remus) quite irritating, she was really glad you were having a grand time. She had also attached a picture of herself with the Eiffel Tower behind her. Your thoughts soon drifted off to a certain Slytherin student; you considered him a friend who knew you as well as you knew him. You’ve been inside Severus Snape’s mind too many times that you could read him as easy as an open book, and you’ve seen his fascination with the dark arts and his inner struggle to try and change his views about this whole mess.  

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about him anymore; despite his gloomy and snarky attitude, he was good company, and a good student. You just wished your memories about the time Mulciber and the others attacked you came back, maybe then you’d understand why Severus was hellbent on ignoring you; and if only Severus stood still for a moment, you could just peek and get the answers yourself.

Your train of thought was soon cut short as the boys got out of water and were heading your way, big smiles on their faces as they chatted. You cast a smile their way as they came near enough, your thoughts about Severus and your lost memories tucked into the back of your mind for now.

-

“Hey Y/N, how do I look?” Sirius asked as he came into view by your doorway. You turned to look at him and chuckled as he twirled around for good measure. He adorned an all-Black attire, with his black shirt, skinny black jeans, combat boots and a leather jacket.

“Like you’re ready for a rock concert.” You commented. He flashed his white pearls at you and came inside the room as you were just finishing up your preparations, pocketing your wand in your hoodie, you turned back to Sirius just in time to catch his pushing his long hair back his shoulders, “Do you want me to tie your hair up? I figured it might be annoying if you leave it down later.”

“Good idea!” He chirped and sat down on a stool by the vanity dresser. You came up behind him and scooped his curls in your hands, taking time to do it as neatly at possible, and tied it up with an extra elastic band. Sirius admired himself in the mirror, “My, don’t I look dashing?” He said then stood up as you snorted. 

“Like a masterpiece.” 

“Darling, may I commend you on your keen eye on beauty?” The both of you broke out laughing and Sirius wrapped an arm around your shoulders and smiled down at you fondly, “Anyway, I’m here to pick you up, the others are already waiting downstairs, and may I add, are itching to go. So, shall we?” He dropped his hand off your shoulder and offered his arm instead.

You shook your head and found this all so silly, but you hooked your arm with his nonetheless. “We shall.” The both of you teetering on your way down, arms linked together. James gave you two a confused look when you came into view, but decided not to say anything. You moved away from Sirius when Remus came out of the kitchen, cookie in hand. “Quick snack before we go?”  

Remus smiled at you, “There’s more in the kitchen, I see you eyeing my cookie. Get your own.”

You placed a hand on your chest at mock-hurt, “Ouch Rem, what ever happened to sharing?”

“This is Sirius’ fault no doubt,” Remus said, then turned to the gray-eyed boy, “look what your influence has done to her; she’s as sassy as you.”  

���Oi, it’s time to go!” James called out from the doorway.

“Now you kids be careful!” Euphemia doted, “Always carry your wands with you.”

James nodded as the rest of you piled outside, “Don’t worry mum, we’ll be back at dawn!”  

When your group arrived at the area where the concert was held, there was already a swarm of people out and about.  Remus placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you guys braved the crowd.  The five of you soon found a spot beside a trailer, Sirius already had a few girls chatting him up while Peter hung on to their every word. Remus and James kept you grounded with all the muggles around and their hearts on their sleeves. They distracted you with conversations and jokes that you didn’t even notice the time that passed until the concert was starting in a couple of minutes.

The swarm of people started gathering and despite Remus’ best efforts to at least provide you with some space to personal space, you found yourself struggling to breathe as strangers pressed upon you as they headed near the stage to get a better view.  

“I’m gonna go buy something to drink!” Sirius informed you guys over the cheers of the crowd as the band took to the stage. 

Your ears were ringing and you grabbed Sirius by the sleeves of his jacket, “I’ll come with!” You shouted back. Sirius gave you a look of surprise but nodded nonetheless and the two of you dispersed from the rest. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as the two of you approached a stall where they sold a variety of drinks. It wasn’t as crowded in this area compared to earlier since the concert just started.  

“All right?” Sirius asked as you fanned yourself with your hands.  

“Of course.” You replied as Sirius took the can of root beer and fished out a couple of muggle currency out of his pocket. He eyed it then flashed you a sheepish look. You rolled your eyes, chuckling lightly as you helped him pay, getting the right amount and handing it to the vendor.

He popped the lid of the can open releasing some fizz, and took a gulp. “Ack, I didn’t think beer would taste like this. Do muggles really get drunk with this?”  

You raised a brow. “Are you serious?”

He furrowed his brows at you, “Yes???”

You shook your head, “I mean, that’s root beer, it isn’t alcoholic. I think it’s more soda actually.”

Sirius frowned and looked at the drink in his hand and took another gulp. He shrugged, “Kind of reminds me of butterbeer.” You laughed at that. He offered you the drink and you gladly took a a few gulps before giving it back to him, your thirst quenched for the time being.

You two were about to head back to the others when another group of girls crowded Sirius saying they just wanted to chat a bit. He had cast you a hesitant look before you waved him off, telling him that you’d wait for him. And wait you did, quite awkwardly at the side until someone suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled you away in haste. “What the bloody hell!” You exclaimed and snatched your hand away but the person turned to look at you. It was a he, and his eyes stormed with panic.   “What are you doing here?!” He snapped as he pulled you further away from the crowd, you willingly followed this time, your mind still not believing the fact the he was actually here.  

“I should be asking you that. I thought you didn’t hang out with muggles, Sev?” You tried to stay calm, but now that he was talking to you, you felt your nerves tangling up inside of you. For weeks he hadn’t said a word to you and now he’s snapping at you? 

Severus ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “We don’t have time for this. You need to leave. Now.” He warned, “Something is about to happen and-” he was about to say but you cut him off, “What do you mean? You- you've been ignoring me for weeks and now... now you show up from who knows where and tell me to leave?”

He placed his hands on your shoulders, “If you think of me as your friend like you always say I am, then trust me when I say that it’s not safe here. They’re coming!”  

“They’re?” You asked but before Severus could reply, people with masks and hoods over their heads apparated to the crowd from thin air, cackling noises vibrating throughout the area; people soon began shouting in shock and confusion. “No...” You whispered horridly. Death Eaters. You were about to run back to the crowd on instinct but Severus grabbed your hand. You whipped towards him, “Let me go! The others are still there!” You cried out.  Green blasts lit at random places in the crowd while another batch of wizards and witches arrived, the cackling caused by apparation being overlapped by screams and spells. The new group battled the Death Eaters immediately, so they must be Aurors sent by the Ministry.

Muggles ran past the both of you, and someone slammed right into you and Severus, releasing the boy’s hold on you. You took this opportunity to get up and sprint back to search for your friends. You could feel your eyes prickle with unshed tears, of course Severus knew, he was one step away from joining them. “Sirius! Remus!” You shouted through the swarm of people. “Peter! James!” Shouts echoed the area as the people escaped, they’d never hear you at this rate. Hopelessness started to engulf you as dread filled your body. Everyone was scared you could hear everyone’s screams and you could slowly feel yourself lose your strength; you could feel yourself lose your own thoughts.

E c h o e s

Your mind was like a cave that had voices bouncing off its walls; echoing deeper in its crevice.

You’ve lost yourself in that cave countless of times before, each one was not a moment you looked back on fondly. Now you’re back and it seemed like the rocky walls of thoughts were closing in on you.

C    l   o   s  i  n g   r i g h t   in

Covering your ears didn’t help, but you did it anyway. People were running amok; children were being separated from their parents, friends were losing each other in the crowd and you couldn’t focus even if you had to- the voices in reality was being mixed with the ones in your head.

Everyone was screaming.

You felt someone pull you away just as a flash of green hit the spot where you just stood.

You didn’t even know who he was.

“Y/N, are you all right?!” The person shook you, and you looked into hazel eyes that were wide with worry and fright. His hands held you by your shoulders in a vice-like grip and you were pretty sure he wasn’t even aware of it himself. “Stay with me. Focus on me.” His voice left no room for argument and you found yourself keenly aware of how close your bodies were. If the both of you weren’t stuck in this life-or-death situation, you would’ve turned into a million shades of red right now.

The both of you were hunched back behind some bushes, shielding you from the sight of any Death Eater around the area. He pried your hands away from your ears, his eyes never leaving yours, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”  

You didn’t realize you were crying until now, but everything in your head seemed quieter as James Potter’s thoughts drowned everyone else’s away. I’ll keep you safe, we’ll get out of here, we’ll get out. You breathed in a shaky breath and got your wand out of the pocket of your hoodie. “I won’t let anything happen to you too.”

You wiped your tears away and steeled your resolve. James pulled you up and held your hand tightly as you went around, trying to find your three friends. “Protego Duo!” You cast just as one of the Death Eaters was about to blast an Auror from behind.  

“Stupefy!” James shouted and it hit the Death Eater square in the chest, making him fall backwards with a thud.  

DIE  

Merchant stalls caught on fire from Incendio, smoke erupting from the flames. You wiped your tears on the sleeve of your hoodie as James screamed for the names of your friends. He had long let go of your hand as the two of you cast spell after spell in defense and retaliation. 

IMPURE

Someone had slammed into you again, sending you to the ground in a hard thud, your head hurt from the impact and the person paid no heed to you as he scrambled up and continued to run away.  

MUDBLOOD

Muggles cry out as green hits them. How many has fallen? James had rushed to your side to pull you back up, and you groaned in pain as you did.  

DIE

You whipped your attention behind you and saw the Death Eaters duel against Aurors. Someone seemed to float past the turmoil, unperturbed by the events and your blood ran cold. The man had snake-like features, his eyes were scarlet and his face, masklike. And throughout everyone, his eyes locked on to you and a sinister smile slowly spread on his face, time seemed to slow down, but not in a good way. His cruel entity radiated out of him and his thoughts made you want to hurl.

“Ah, a Legilimens!” He shouted, and despite all the noise around, his voice still boomed and everyone paying attention still heard him. A mistake. You made a mistake and now he knows. “And also well-versed in Occlumency I see.” He grinned, and you knew he tried to go into your subconscious as well.  

“James,” You croaked out as the boy stepped in front of you, wand drawn, you didn’t want him to find out this way. You wanted to be able to tell them yourself when you were ready.

The Auror you saved shielded the both of you, shouting that you needed to escape.  

“There is no need!” The snake-like man announced, “There is no escape from the Dark Lord!” He howled, “Avada Kedavra!” He yelled and the Auror dropped dead as the spell hit him square in the chest. You couldn’t even scream.

Shivers ran down your spine. This was him; this was Lord Voldemort in the flesh. Why was he here? Didn’t he usually leave little events to his followers? “You girl,” He called out to you and stretched out his hand, “Your talents will not be wasted if you join me! This is the first time I met a child blessed with such prowess of Legilimency! You may be only second to me! The boy beside you shows great potential as well, the both of you will rise up in my ranks with your skills!” Even though it seemed like he was complimenting you, his cold and steely tone held no such impression.

You gripped your wand tightly, ready for any sudden movements as sweat trickled down your forehead at the suspense. You glanced at James; the boy never took his eyes off of the Dark Lord and anger burned behind those hazel eyes.

“We will never join you!” James snapped and flicked his wand towards a fallen log and propelled it towards Voldemort and his other death eaters. The both of you took this opportunity to escape, never bothering to look back.  

Voldemort bellowed at the petty trick, instantly blasting the log into pieces. “Leave them!” He commanded his followers when they were about to pursuit. “There will be many chances in the future.”  

-

“Remus! Peter!” James exclaimed in relief as he saw the two. The four of you reunited and Peter was bawling his eyes out in fright, his hand that held his wand tightly was trembling vigorously as he held it up in defense.

The three boys looked haggard and you figured you were as well. All of you stayed on your guard as the battle still raged on. “We need to find Sirius and get away from here.” James said and the rest of you nodded in agreement.

“Petrificus Totalus!” Remus casted, hitting a Death Eater, disabling him from making any movements. You didn’t have to look for long when Peter spotted Sirius dueling with someone a few meters from where you stood.  

“Peter, look out!” You shout and tackled the blonde boy to the ground as a spell flew by the both of you and hit another person instead. “Immobulus!” James shot at the perpetrator while Remus shot him with a Flipendo, sending him backwards. You helped Peter up, the boy looking absolutely distraught about that near-death experience but still continued on with the rest of you.

“Wouldn’t it be great if you joined us, cousin?!” A woman with wild, curly, black hair exclaimed as she shot spell after spell at your gray-eyed friend. You could feel the bloodlust radiating off of her as she had no qualms on dueling against her family member. Bellatrix Lestrange, or as you knew her back then, Bellatrix Black.  

“In your wildest dreams, Bella!” Sirius retaliated with a smirk as he countered her every spell, hex, and dodge every curse. Unlike the other Death Eaters, Bellatrix didn’t wear a robe nor a mask to cover who she was. She was quite proud to be a follower of Voldemort and was sure to flaunt it.  

A flash of green light burst in the sky all of a sudden, which made all of you look up and halting all duels. A colossal skull decorated the sky in a flurry of green smoke until it etched itself on the black sky like a new constellation. A snake protruded from its mouth like a tongue. The Dark Mark. 

Now, just as sudden as the Death Eaters arrived, they vanished, leaving the aftermath of destruction in their wake. An eerie silence enveloped the area as the Aurors made quick work on damage control. The muggles that escaped were soon tracked and obliviated of any memory of magic that transpired.  

You stared into the distance. Your throbbing head soon healed as a healer made quick work of any injuries the five of you may have sustained. “Your use of underage magic today will be overlooked as an act of self-defense.” An Auror informed you and your companions.  

You sighed, “Can we go home now?” You were exhausted, all of you were, and James’ parents were probably pacing themselves in worry. The Auror looked at you, thinking. He was as tired as you guys were, and he surely didn’t want to deal with students right now.  

“Of course. We will contact you if we have additional questions. Now, you shall be escorted-” He was about to say but James cut him off, “No it’s fine. My place isn’t far from here...”

You zoned out of the conversation when the Auror started explaining the need for an escort and James insisting that the lot of you could look after yourselves, your focus shifted to the people being obliviated. The flash of the wand as the spell was cast seemed so familiar, yet so foreign. You placed a hand on your head as flashes of darkness appeared in your mind. You suddenly stood up, much to the surprise of your friends, and you approached one of the Obliviators.  

“Excuse me,” You said. The Obliviator finished her task and turned to look at you and raised a brow in question. You bit your lower lip in nervousness, “Um, would it be alright if I asked some questions about Obliviate?”

The woman faced you fully, letting out a kind smile. “Of course. What would you want to know?”

You ran a hand through your hair, “I- is it possible for the people who were obliviated to regain their memories?” You asked, “How would you know that you’ve been obliviated before?”

The Obliviator placed a hand on her chin in thought, “Well,” she started, “For one, you wouldn’t know if it was casted on you as long as it was properly cast.” She informed you and thought some more, “As for regaining memories, there are various ways of breaking the Memory Charm. Torture, for one. I heard the Death Eaters are especially fond of that; also, if the charm that was cast isn’t as strong, a simple memory potion should do the trick. There are different levels of the charm, so it’s very important to have full focus when casting it. If it’s too strong it could cause brain damage, or even worse, death. But if it’s too weak, there would be a high chance of the person regaining their memories.”  

You nodded, engraving her words into your head, maybe this was the answer. “Thank you.” The woman nodded in reply and walked away to obliviate yet another unconscious muggle. Remus stood up as you headed back to them.  

“All right?” He questioned as he placed his hands on your arms. You looked up at him, his brown eyes glinting off worry. You gulped.  

“As I’ll ever be.” You replied. Remus’ mouth formed a thin line on his face; he didn’t believe you. But he chose not to pry any further, which you were glad for. They informed you that the Auror was going to Apparate you guys to James’ house and explain the situation to his parents.  

When you arrived, the door slammed open and Euphemia and Fleamont rushed out, the former in tears as she pulled all five of you in a bone-crushing hug. Fleamont and the Auror moved a few meters away to discuss everything that happened as Euphemia hounded the lot of you inside.  

After warm baths and a change of clothes, all of you retreated to bed. You were by yourself in the guest room while the boys shared James’ room. You wished you could go to them right now; you didn’t want to be alone.  

You stared at the ceiling of the room as you laid in bed that night. Sleep eluded you and your thoughts plagued you. Someone may have obliviated yours and the Slytherins’ memories about the fight at Hogwarts, you didn’t know who it was and why they did what they did, but you were bent on figuring it out. 

Also now, Voldemort knew your ability and wanted you to join his army. You doubt this would be the last time you come face to face with the Dark Lord, war was brewing and even with the safety Hogwarts provided you as students, you would ultimately have to graduate and leave. You had to tell Dumbledore about all this, you decided and immediately stood up to write him a letter. 

Quill in hand, you realized your hand still shook from the shock of earlier’ s attack. You took in a deep breath in hopes to help still your mind. Your penmanship wasn’t the best right now but it would have to do with your current state. It was cold and you missed the familiar warmth of the bespectacled boy’s hand in yours and the protection it provided. James was like a pillar that kept you grounded that time...

James... you set down your quill midway the letter, the color draining from your face as realization dawned. James knew. He knew you were a Legilimens now.

___________________ 

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[whattodowithkpop]

Like a ticking clock (Seongwha)

Title: Like a ticking clock

Paring: Reader x Seongwha (ATEEZ)

Genre: Fluff, spice, slight angst but with a happy ending.

Word count: 2267

Writer: Kpopmadness (Ju)

A/N: @junquisite requested this from a Soulmates prompt. Letter T (Timer) soulmate AU with Seongwha. :D

The bell rang, jolting Seongwha from his daydream. The sound of the bell making him stop tracing patterns on his wrist. He sighed with relief that the day was finally over and he could go home. As he was putting away his books for the day he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, making him glance to see who it was.

"You were rubbing your wrist again during class." His best friend said as she sat down in the chair opposite of him, Her long hair swooping over her shoulders and dancing along her backpack that she had placed on her lap as she stared intently at him.

Seongwha smiled shyly at her. Not sure what to say. "I can't help it. Ever since mine broke I have the weird feeling that I'm missing something. Even though I'm not really."

The thing that he was referring to was a small band about an inch wide with a small screen with dimly lit letters slayed across it. It wasn't a watch, it was nowhere near that simple. It was a countdown to meeting your soulmate.

It was something almost all young adults got by the time they were 13 years of age. Getting this soulmate watch, called Shadow, was the thing the world over agreed would lead to true happiness in people's love lives. Which did work, the divorce rates plummeted after Shadow was released. The cases of domestic abuse even went down. Because Shadow was designed to make people happy and find the one people were truly meant to be with.

Seongwha remembered going to the Shadow company with his parents when he was 13 to get his Shadow activated. Getting a Shadow was a choice made by all parents. But 95% of the worlds population had a Shadow. So his parents were one of those that decided to get him a Shadow. He didn't much care for knowing when he would meet his soulmate, but he went along for his parents. When it was placed on his wrist and the small screen glowed with life it read him his time.

9 years, 15 hours, 65 seconds

His mother glowed with excitement for him. He didn't quite know what to think of it. But he felt a small spark of joy light in his chest. That's why when he was 15 and he accidently broke his Shadow, he felt a strange sense of loss. His parents said they could replace it. But Seongwha didn't want to do that quite yet. Because he was unsure if he wanted to know if he even still had a soulmate now that he was in his last two months of high school. But ever since that day, he always rubbed his wrist. Reaching for the soft feel of the silicone band but never finding it there.

"You can just always get a new one, Seong." His best friend said softly, jolting him from his thoughts.

"I know I can." He said, standing up to throw his pack over his shoulder. "But you're one to talk about getting a Shadow, miss rebellious."

She smiled at his wit as they walked down the hall to the exit. "Some of us don't want a small device to tell us who we should be with."

Seongwha chuckled at her classic stubbornness. She was one of the few that never got a Shadow. Her parents had decided against it. And since it wasn't law that you were supposed to have a Shadow, she never had one. She swore she was happy without it. Which is something Seongwha admired about her a lot when they met when they were 11.

"Are we hanging out at my place later tonight?" She asked him, making him meet her eyes.

"Are we watching another horror film?" He whined, knowing how much she loved the classic horror movies. Especially the black and white films.

"No, its your turn to pick a movie tonight." She sassed back, playfully nudging his ribs with her elbow.

Seongwha let out a laugh. "I'll see you at 8 then?"

8:00 on Friday's being their stay up all night and watch movies routine since they were 16.

"See you then." She said cheerfully as they parted ways.

``````````

4 years later;

"Seongwha, we are not watching that movie again."

"Why not?" He argued. "It's a good movie."

She shoots him a glare as she slumps onto his couch in his studio apartment. "You have picked that movie nearly every time on Friday nights since High School."

"And you have an obsession with black and white horror films and insist on picking them every time its your turn to pick." Seongwha shoots back.

"It is not an obsession!" She says as she throws a pillow at him, making him laugh.

"Fine, we'll both pick a new movie this time." He said, caving into her wishes. There was no point in arguing over it now after they had kept up their movie night ritual for years.

She smiled at him as he sat down on the couch beside her. Both of them going through their options of new movies and shows to start. They finally settled on a newer romantic movie and settled in to watch it. Her head rested on his shoulder like it almost always did. Their physical closeness nothing new to either one of them. It was comforting to them. As the movie progressed, Seongwha felt his fingers trace the spot of where his Shadow used to be. He still kept a mental timer of when he was supposed to meet his soulmate. But this was the year it was supposed to happen, and the year was half over and nothing had happened to him. And he had no way of knowing who it was or when they would enter his life.

Seongwha let out a sigh and let his hand fall away from tracing his wrist. He forced his attention back on the characters playing out on the screen. As he scooted down further into the couch, her head remained on his shoulder. Making him rest his head against hers with a content sigh. Even if he didn't have a soulmate, he knew he could always rely on her to be there.

The movie hit its climax for the couple on the screen. Leading to a passionate kissing scene between the two. Seongwha felt her tense beside him, knowing she got uncomfortable with these types of scenes. But his heartbeat went up when he fingers traced his wrist where his Shadow used to be. Her touches felt different in that moment somehow.

Heat coursed through him as she lifted her head slowly to meet his eyes. Their gaze lasting much longer than normal. Seongwha's eyes darted from her eyes to her mouth, unsure what to do. He had always viewed them as just friends. But in that moment he felt very differently.

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by her lips crashing against his. He froze beneath her touch, his lips unwilling to move. But then as if by second nature his lips enclosed hers and his eyes drifted shut, letting every touch soak in completely. His hands drifted until he found her thighs and brought her onto his lap. Her hands sliding from his chest up to weave through his hair.

Seongwha placed a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her even closer to him, suddenly unable to get her close enough to him. He let his tongue run against hers, making her sigh out into his mouth and a rush of adrenaline course through his veins like fire.

She pressed her body closer to his, her teeth biting his lower lip until he could feel it had swollen slightly. His hands shook slightly as they found their way under her shirt, making her tense to his tracings down her spine.

She pulled away from his mouth only slightly to whisper, ''Can we take this to your room?" She asked between labored breaths.

Seongwha felt the words form in his throat, he could feel his arms carry her back to his room. But the words never left his mouth and the actions never followed through.

"I… we can't." He whispered, pulling his hands out from under her shirt.

She met his eyes, hurt and confusion lacing them. "Why?"

"Because… what if we aren't soulmates?" He asked quietly.

You didn't have to listen to what Shadow said about meeting your soulmate. Some never met their soulmate due to them passing away. That left them with the choice of going with someone that wasn't your soulmate, or never trying to replace the love you dreamed of getting from the one that was supposed to be made for you.

But Seongwha had seen it happen before. He had seen where two people fell in love that weren't soulmates. And it might have worked for awhile or right at first. But nothing hurts worse than one day seeing your real soulmate on the street and having the burning thought that you could've made all the right memories with that one. And from their any founded relationship rarely lasts.

She slides off his lap, sitting beside him. Her lips swollen and her eyes brimming with tears. "So you're saying you can’t be with me because you don't think we're meant to be together?"

Seongwha shook his head, trying to take her hands in his but only to have her shrink away from him.

"No, no, no that isn't what I'm saying. I'm just saying that I remember this was supposed to be the year I found my soulmate. And I can't put you through the pain of getting attached to me only to see who was really meant to be with me walk into my life."

She shook her head, tears starting to streak down her cheeks. "You have obsessed over that stupid device since we were kids, Seongwha. And I have loved you since we were 15. But maybe you're right. If you're so obsessed over finding your soulmate then, fine. Maybe we just need to call this off right now."

She stood to leave, quickly going to the door to put on her shoes and coat. Seongwha quickly stood up, his own heart beginning to ache and throb.

"That isn't what I meant and you know it." He snapped. "I don't want to hurt you. A soulmate can be a close friend but it rarely ever works out that way. And I never knew a kiss could mean as much to me as yours just did but I just don't want to hurt you later."

She opened the door and sighed, looking at him through bleary eyes. "Just save it." She whispered brokenly before shutting the door behind her. Leaving Seongwha in the dark.

A few days passed and they did manage to talk things out some. But things were awkward and they couldn't get around it. That's why when she got a job offer on the other side of the world Seongwha felt it was wrong to stop her from going. Wrong to stop her from being happy.

``````

2 years later;

Seongwha walked through the park with a mass of butterflies swirling in his stomach. He placed his fingers on his right wrist again to feel the soft silicone pressed against his skin. He had bought a new Shadow a year ago. He expected not to have a soulmate anymore since the year he was supposed to have one came and went. But that wasn't the case. It ticked and ticked until it got to this day. A day he was anxious for.

But nothing could have prepared him for the person he saw in the park. Standing by the railings over looking the river was his first kiss, his best friend, and now, with how his Shadow was blinking rapidly with a red heart dancing on the screen and how she looked down at her watch to see it doing the same, he knew she was going to be a lot more than all those things in the future.

When their eyes met across the small space between them, their eyes filled with tears. And Seongwha didn't fight it when she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Her familiar scent filling his nose and soothing him.

"You got a Shadow after all." He lightly teased, his head still buried in her neck.

She let out a watery chuckle. "Because I got curious. And I always hoped it would be you on the other side of all this. Because I have missed you so much and I am so sorry about--"

Seongwha silenced her by taking her face in his hands and attaching his lips to hers. Joy sparking in his chest. She melted into his touch, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Slowly, Seongwha pulled away, smiling down at her as their noses brushed each other. "I missed you too." He whispered, making his smile up at him.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #9: Open the Closed Door

Words: ca. 1,400 Setting: Canon Lemon: No CW: None

***

“Do you remember when this all started?” Elsa asked while looking down at the nude woman in her arms. Anna nodded and let out a huge sigh. “Yeah. There was a thunderstorm right?” Elsa nodded while humming in agreement. “You used to be so afraid of them. What changed?” “You did,” Anna replied, “You opened up and now I can come to you whenever I feel scared.” Elsa felt her heartbreak at the vulnerability in her sister’s voice. Things have changed quite a bit, but she can’t help the sadness that seeps in whenever she thinks about how her sister would beg outside her bedroom door for her to come out. “What made you come to me that first time?“  was all that she asked in reply.

“Well, you had started to come out every once in a while and I really was afraid of the thunderstorm.” At this, Elsa released a pained sigh, but Anna just continued. “That night the booming from the thunder was too loud. I felt like it was right outside my window and the castle would come down around us.”

Elsa didn’t remember that about the storm but knew it must’ve been pretty bad for Anna to come to her room. After a brief pause, Anna continued, “I was so scared and I really needed someone, but especially my big sister, so I just came over and knocked. I didn’t think you’d actually answer and I was ready to just sit outside your door all night if you didn’t. You opened the door and the lighting flashed behind you and I just realized how beautiful you were. I was seeing you in a whole new light.” Elsa smiled, remembering that moment. “Its funny because I thought the same about you. I always kept tabs on how you were doing around the castle, but it was different seeing you in front of me. I had already noticed how pretty you were, but it was different that night. I don’t know what but it just felt different. You were standing there with the blanket mom and dad had given you when we were younger wrapped around your shoulders.” That night after letting Anna in, Elsa just stared at her for a while. Anna stared back, being just as entranced. A crack of thunder made them jump and break out of their trances. Elsa realized they were standing in the middle of her room and went over to the bed. She pulled back the blankets and got in but kept holding it up for Anna to slide in next to her. Elsa always felt too cold, especially with the chill that came in with the storm, and felt like Anna was always too warm. Having her in bed felt like she had her own space heater. She cuddled into the warmth that Anna brought in, and Anna was seemingly just as eager to cuddle as she was. Her younger sister moved in and wrapped her arms around her waist. Another crack of thunder made her jump, and Elsa pulled her in and cuddled her closer. Anna rested her head on Elsa’s shoulder but looked up and asked, “Is this okay?” She didn’t want to make Elsa uncomfortable and get kicked out of her bed. Elsa just replied, “of course,” to further reassure her younger sister. She pressed a quick kiss to her crown. This was more physical than their relationship has ever been. The most they’ve ever done is shared quick hugs in the morning before Elsa would lock herself back in her room or her office. Anna seemingly wasn’t okay with this and leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Elsa’s mouth. They both turned red at this, and Anna quickly tried to apologize. She hadn’t meant to kiss so close to Elsa’s mouth, but in an attempt to reassure her sister Elsa wanted to kiss her in the same place. Anna was moving around too much, though, and Elsa pressed a kiss on her sister’s lips. Anna squeaked in surprise, and Elsa’s blush spread to her ears and chest. The sisters couldn’t even look at each other they were so shocked and embarrassed by the turn their night has taken. They both just laid there in silence, not knowing what to do now. Their relationship seemed different now. There was another crack of thunder that made the younger woman jump. After a few more moments of silence, Anna turned her sister’s face towards her and said, “Its okay, Elsa. It was an accident, right?” That was the problem though, Elsa wasn’t sure it was entirely an accident. She stayed silent for too long, and Anna again interrupted her thoughts and said, “Unless you meant it which is cool too. I’d be cool with whatever. Accident or not it doesn’t really matter to me. Well I guess it does matter if you meant it. I’d like it if you meant it, but if not we can just pretend it never happened. We can just go back to the way things were. Again it doesn’t really matter to me. I mean we could always just -” Elsa decided to cut off her sister’s rambling, knowing that Anna would keep talking herself in circles, trying to reassure her. “Anna, please stop. I think I meant it. Okay?” “Oh” was all Anna replied. This caused Elsa to pause. She was pretty sure she heard Anna say that she’d like it if it was on purpose. She started to panic. What if she misheard her? Before she could spiral any further into her self-doubt, Anna leaned over and kissed her. It was just a peck, but Anna seemed to want to make it deeper. She put her hand on Elsa’s cheek, turned her head, and pressed their lips harder together. She kept incessantly pressing their lips together. Elsa pulled her head back and was slightly confused about what her younger sister was doing. She’d only kissed a few people, but never like this. “What are you doing?” She asked the younger woman, confused. “Trying to kiss you. You know, like they do in the books.” was all Anna replied. “Oh. Well, have you ever kissed someone before?” Anna froze. She didn’t think that Elsa would notice how inexperienced she was. Of course she never kissed anyone. She hardly had any friends outside the castle, and anyone in town who dared to get close enough to the princess wouldn’t risk the wrath of the Ice Queen by kissing her sister. She just slowly shook her head in response to Elsa’s question. She was too embarrassed to verbalize her response. Elsa just nodded for a while before saying, “It’s my first time too. I never left the castle so I never had the chance to try it with anyone.” Anna was shocked, but it did make sense. Elsa never left her room when they were growing up. “I guess we can learn together,” Anna replied enthusiastically. Elsa nodded, and they both leaned in to kiss, but both accidentally leaned the same way, almost making their noses bump. They both tried to correct the mistake and again almost bumped their noses. Elsa huffed in annoyance and grabbed Anna’s face to hold her still. This time she leaned in too suddenly, and her teeth clashed with Anna’s. “What the heck Elsa?” cried Anna indignantly. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Elsa apologized sincerely. “Its okay. Let’s try this.” While talking, Anna grabbed Elsa’s face and pressed a quick peck to her lips. She then turned her head and slotted their lips together. Elsa then began taking over the kiss. She slid her tongue along the seam of her sister’s lips, quietly asking for entrance. Anna parted her lips and felt the Ice Queen’s tongue touching hers. They continued to kiss like this until Anna was moaning into it. She pulled back and asked, “We can keep doing this?” Elsa laughed and just responded, “Of course.” She couldn’t imagine their relationship ever going back to the way things were before this. She looked down at her sister and, for the second time that night, thought about how she could’ve purposely locked herself away when this ball of sunshine was just outside her door waiting for her to come out. Anna cleared her throat and brought Elsa back to the present. Elsa almost forgot that Anna was asking her if she remembered how their relationship had started. She just looked down at the nude Anna in her arms and finally responded, “Of course I remember how we started. I don’t think I could ever forget it.” Anna looked at Elsa and wagged her eyebrows while asking, “Do you remember what we did during the next storm?”

[simsadventures]

Baby Fever II

Summary: You’re 9 months pregnant with your first child, and you and Bucky are both excited and nervous about the arrival of the little one.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of smut (nothing explicit this time around), daddy! Bucky, Deer Woman appearance

Word Count: 1932

A/N: Some of you liked the first part so much, you actually requested a second one, and I was honestly very happy to do it. This is pretty much just a fluff with a fluff on top, so I’ll hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know what you thought :) xx

Bucky Barnes Masterlist __ Masterlist

Baby Fever I

The dull pain in your lower back woke you up. You groaned in frustration when you looked at the alarm sitting on your nightstand. It was 6.29, and even though that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, to wake up in half past 6, it was the fact that it has only been 2 hours since you last woke up. And you were tired. And in pain. And frustrated.

You looked at the other side of the bed seeing Bucky still soundly asleep, and although you were happy for him and his sleeping routine, you were also jealous of him.

You loved the fact you were pregnant, you really did. But your little bundle of joy had no care in the world for a time in the real world outside your womb, and he or she would regularly have a party in there around 4 AM.

And because nature had to make it so that the women would carry to babies, your husband would wake up rested and stress-free every morning, while you looked like a little dwarves dances on top of you the whole night.

You sighed, and rolled over to your other side, dangling your feet off the bed and you tried to get up. Not only were you tired, but your bladder was killing you as well. You were sure the baby thought your bladder was some kind of a ball and would kick it out of spite every twenty minutes, causing you to run to the bathroom.

There were times when you even wanted to have twins. That thought made you cringe now because just the thought of two babies being in there, playing with your organs made you shiver. One at a time was just enough for you.

You rushed to the bathroom, and when you were done, you looked at yourself in the mirror. There were dark circles under your eyes from the lack of sleep, and very probably from the strength of the baby, which, as Bruce said, has inherited parts of the serum from his father. Bucky was alarmed at first, at the thought of his baby being enhanced and all of that, but Bruce assured both of you that rather than being enhanced in the usual sense of the word, your baby would simply be less prone to be sick, its wounds would heal slightly quicker, and that was probably it.

He couldn’t be a hundred percent sure until it was born, but you trusted Bruce, and you were at ease with the whole serum thing.

Your eyes travelled south to your 9-month belly, swollen and hard with stretch marks at the sides. At first, you were horrified to see those lines on your body that use to be lean and without a mark, except the few scars you carried from your fights. But then, mostly thanks to Bucky, you realised that it was a miracle you even had this baby in you, and that your body was just accommodating for the little one to be as comfortable as you could make it.

You touched the right side of your belly, right next to your navel, and massaged it lightly. You knew the baby liked it when you touched the belly, or when you or Bucky spoke to it, and you wanted to enjoy this morning ritual until it decided to finally come out.

You could feel pressure under your palm, and when you lifted it, you could see a little hand protruding through your skin.

Despite your tiredness and all those frustrations you felt when you got up, a smile appeared on your mouth and tears welled up in your eyes. This was all you ever dreamed of, at least since you met Bucky, and you couldn’t believe that it was a reality. Your very own reality.

You didn’t even notice the movement behind you until there was a hand splayed on your stomach. You looked into the mirror and was welcomed by the sight that melted your heart.

Bucky’s hair was still messy from the pillow, his eyes looked like he hasn’t truly woken up just yet, but he had a delirious smile on his face, watching your belly with a newfound adoration.

Ever since you found out you were pregnant, Bucky was over the moon. He would make sure you had everything you needed, even if it meant he had to get up from the comfort of his bed at 2 AM just to bring you a sack of oranges, or a pack of ice cream. He would pamper you with kisses and hugs, give you massages whenever your body hurt too much, and he would be there all the time.

He even misses a few missions just because he didn’t feel like leaving you alone, despite your protests and Tony’s explanations that nothing could happen to you in the safest place on this planet. That wasn’t an argument for Bucky. You were his wife carrying his child, and he would be damned if he didn’t make sure you were both ok.

As the baby made its presence known, Bucky kept massaging your belly, marvelling at the sight of the tiny feet and hands showing through the thin skin of your stomach.

You leaned into his chest, loving the attention he was giving both of you, and you kissed the underside of his jaw. His eyes shot to yours, and he gave you the loveliest smile, pecking your lips in the process.

You were nearing your due date, well, according to Bruce, it could happen any day now. You were anxious, to say the least. You were an Avenger, that was true, but you couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like to give birth to a tiny human being. And if it the little one inside you was anything like Bucky, it would come out kicking and screaming.

But the truth was, you weren’t even scared of the pain, you knew you could take it. Billions of women were able to do it before you, and you knew you could do it. You were more afraid for the little one. What if something happens to it? What if you can’t even do the one thing, right? What if you are a bad mother?

All these thoughts were playing in your mind as the due date neared, and they were now all you could think of. Bucky had no idea, or at least you thought so because you didn’t want to stress him out or let him know about all your doubts when it came to your child.

But Bucky being Bucky could read you like an open book, and so when you got lost in your head again, contemplating whether you are able to take on this new role, in this crazy world, Bucky put a finger under your chin and turned your to face him.

“Stop,” he whispered and touched your forehead with his, letting you take a deep breath, releasing the stress out of your body.

“We’re gonna be good, you’re gonna be a great mother, and I will never let anything happen to the little one, I promise. You are my family, my everything, and there isn’t a possibility of it not ending up ok. We’re gonna struggle at times, just like every other new parents, but we will get the hang of it. I saw you taking care of Morgan, and you’re natural, baby! So stop stressing about unnecessary things, and just enjoy the last few moments of being pregnant,” he said calmly, and just like always, you felt yourself letting go of all your fears, just because Bucky was with you.

“I know you’re right, it’s just the illogical part of my brain that comes up with all these worst-case scenarios. But you’re right, when it comes-“

You couldn’t finish the sentence, because you suddenly felt something wet between your thighs. And because you were pretty sure you just didn’t pee yourself, there was only one other possibility.

Bucky was watching in confusion, as you looked from him to your stomach and further down, and then back at him. It took him a good minute before he realised what was happening, and from the calm and collected Bucky, you had this fretting boy in front of you.

He was freaking out, to say the least, while you were overcome with peace. Sure, you were curious about the contractions, and all, but you suddenly knew you could do this. Your body was made for this. Which you couldn’t say about Bucky’s body, which was now shaking as he tried to remember what it was that you wanted to do first if something like this happened.

“Bucky!” You raised your voice to ensure the message actually got to his stressed brain.

“Call my doctor, Dr Young, and tell her that we are on our way. I’ll call Bruce and tell him what is happening. You’ll then grab my bag, it’s there, on the table, and you’ll calmly drive me to the hospital, just like we planned. Will you be able to do it, or should I call somebody else to drive us?”

“NO! I’ll drive us! I’ve got this! I promise, now let’s go,” Bucky said, obviously still a little shaken, but much better than moments ago.

You nodded at him, and while you were both calling the doctors, and heading towards the car, you looked outside, and for a brief moment, you could have sworn you saw a beautiful woman standing outside the window.

Her hair was flowing around her hips, the flower crown on her head accentuating her beauty just like her plain white dress. She looked like she was smiling at you and nodding, but when you blinked and looked again, she was nowhere to be found.

You thought you were hallucinating, from the pain that started to creep to your belly and forgot all about the image of a few moments ago.

But the Deer Woman has never forgotten. She came in to check on you, and to give you and the baby the strength to go through the labour as painlessly and quickly as possible.

She was also there, just outside the hospital where you were giving birth to your baby boy to oversee the whole process, and when she heard the sharp cries of your baby, and when she heard you saying the little boy’s name, she nodded again and vanished into thin air.

“Micheal Steven,” you said with a smile. “I think we should call him after Steve, because you and Steve have always been so close, and I would like to honour that. Also, we both agreed that sieve should be his godfather, so why not calling him after him?”

Bucky was already on the verge of crying from all the joy he was feeling, but when you asked him if you could name your baby boy after his best friend, the dam broke. He sobbed yes, and hugged you tightly, still careful of the babe in your arms.

He couldn’t believe his luck to have such a beautiful family, and he knew that it wouldn’t end with just this baby. Bucky wanted a whole litter of babies now that you two knew you made such cute ones. And he couldn’t wait to start trying with you again. Well, after little Micheal Steven was safe and sound in his crib and you were all healed up, of course. He could wait that long. But the baby fever in him could never be truly satisfied.

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten​ @paradisiacalsparks​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @owlyannah​ @lassini​ @s-trawberryv-eins​ @reniescarlett​ @bxrnsfeyson​ @the-soulofdevil​

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @lumar014​ @ptrs-prkrs​

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone​ @sasbb23​ @p8tn0lish​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @waiting4inspiration​ @caswinchester2000​ @mogaruke​ @justthatfangirloverthere​ @mushyjellybeans​ @livsheph​ @sebbbystaaan​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @itsunclebucky​

If your name is crossed out, tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason, I’m sorry.

If you’d like to be tagged comment/message/send an ask. If you like the story, please reblog :) any comments are appreciated, even the critical ones. Always a space to get better, so let me know what you guys think.

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 7

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~2,500

Warnings: None

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Eva’s heels clicked on the steps as she made her way up to the main office.  She turned a corner and smiled. Even from across the room, she could see that he was sitting at his desk, looking over paperwork. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he squeezed his eyes shut, then pressed the fingers of both hands into the muscle between his neck and shoulders. Eva tucked the folder into her chest and crossed the room, knocking gently on the door jamb.

He looked up, saying her name with a small, soft smile. Eva liked that smile, she wanted to see more of it.

“Hi,” she said, stepping into the room. “I brought pictures from the church. Steve said you’d want them as evidence.”

Eva hadn’t seen him since that day, a week or so of time replaying their conversation and feeling a terrible kind of hope that she had to hip check every once in a while. Enjoying his company was one thing, wanting something more was a completely separate matter entirely.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “But, as I said, he did make bail.”

She approached his desk, handing him the folder, “Are you still going to prosecute?”

He lifted a shoulder, “That’s not really my decision. I don’t take people to trial, I just arrest them.”

Eva watched him open the folder, sifting through the pictures one by one. Carrillo looked tense in a way that hinted that he hadn’t had sleep in a while.  Although he was perfectly put together from his hair to his uniform, he was a little curled in on himself.

“You look exhausted,” she murmured before she could catch herself.

His eyes lifted to look at her from behind impossibly long lashes, “Its been a difficult week.”

“I’m sure,” Eva replied. “Catching criminals is hard work, take it from someone who used to be one.”

He chuckled, laying down the pictures, his hands flat against the desk, “Were you difficult to catch?”

“Oh, I was the worst,” she assured him, all sincerity. “Had to eventually turn myself in, just so the justice system could get a win.”

Carrillo, still laughing moved to standing and winced. His hand reached up to touch his shoulder. She just barely stopped herself from moving forward to touch him, the instinct catching her off guard.

“Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, “No, just slept on my neck wrong.”

Eva inhaled a breath, thinking. Then, she turned on her heel and closed his door. When she turned back  to him, he was standing behind his desk, looking at her in question. He’d gone very still.

“I can help, if you’re okay with that.”

His head tilted to the side, “I’m okay with that.”

Eva smirked, moving towards him, “You don’t even know what I’ll do.”

“I’m relatively certain that you’re not going to hurt me.  And, I’m armed.”

She glanced at the gun in a holster strapped to his side and conceded the point. She glanced around, getting her bearings. The room was sparsely decorated, though there were plenty of cabinets to file documentation.  The small leather couch would work, but she dismissed it as too intimate. To her right was a stool. She could work with that.

Setting it down in front of her Eva gestured for him to sit, which he did. She ran her eyes over him, the bend of his neck, the thick curls of his hair that he made every attempt to tame.  Her fingers flexed to muss the slick coif. Eva squeezed her hands together to keep them to herself for a moment longer.

“Where does it hurt?”

He huffed, his head turned to look at her over his shoulder, “Is everywhere a good answer?”

Eva rolled her eyes, “Let’s start with your neck. Is it upper or lower?”

“Both,” he answered, head dropped a little to expose the skin between his hairline and collar, “It kind of runs along the spine and down over the back of my shoulder.”

She nodded, despite the fact that he couldn’t see her, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

He nodded and she ran her fingers over the line of muscle from the back of his neck over to his shoulder. She kept her touch light, tracing until she found a bunched ball of fibers.

“I’m going to push a little. It might hurt.”

Eva allowed him to breath deep before she dug her first two fingers into it and rubbed in a small circle.  He released a low groan, head falling all the way forward to his chest.  She opened up the circle on each pass, then closed it again.  Widen. Close. Widen. Close.  She kept it up until the muscle relaxed a bit.  Then she found another and repeated the process.  

The act, itself, was soothing. Loosening muscle after muscle with firm, rhythmic strokes, sometimes with the palm of her hand, sometimes with the steady press of a knuckle. Eva rocked a little bit in her heels, moving over him to get a little more leverage.

His breathing was deep and even when she finished with the last one. Then, she ran her hands up both sides of his neck and pressed her thumbs to the nape, where his spine met his skull, kneading. Beneath her hands, he inhaled sharply, then let it out in one long, slow, breath. Eva kept the kneading motion up for a while more, enjoying that his body was completely pliant. She was sure there was something to be said about how she could bend him with nothing more than a little pressure from her hands, but Eva stowed it away along with the hope she was desperately trying to keep from feeling.

Though she was loathe to do it, Eva lifted her hands and stepped away. He remained where he was for several seconds, his head lifting slowly. Then, he turned and looked at her with sleepy eyes.

“Thank you.”

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her, “You’re welcome.”

He stood and circled the stool to stand in front of her, “Are you hungry?”

Her smile widened to a grin, “The answer to that question is always ‘yes’.”

“Good,” he said, “Come to lunch with me.”

Eva felt a blush rise in her cheeks as she breathed, “Okay.”

One side of his mouth turned up and he circled his desk to get his keys, slipping them into his pocket and guiding her to the door with one hand on the small of her back.

As they made their way outside, she asked, “Where are we going?”

He gestured to his truck, parked near the front of the office, “There’s a place not far from here. Good food. No bombs.”

She lifted a brow as she climbed into the passenger’s seat, “Well, that’s a relief.  The last place I went to was crawling with them. I didn’t even stay long enough for a drink.”

Carrillo turned over the ignition, reaching behind her to brace against the headrest as he backed out. Eva looked him over as discretely as she could, inordinately pleased with watching him drive. Such a simple set of actions—pedals, gear shift, wheel—all working together with not much more than muscle memory.

“What?” he said, glancing over at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road.

Eva shook her head, “Nothing. I’m just, you know, trying to figure you out.”

“What have you figured out so far?”

Eva thought about it, biting her lip. Then, she turned in her seat, pulling her legs up underneath her a bit so that she could see him better, “You’ve got one foot in the darkness.”

Dark brows coming together, he asked, “What does that mean?”

She looked down, trying to gather her thoughts in a way that made sense, “I can see that you really want to do some good.  You really want to catch…” she trailed off, then decided to start over. “I think this job, the intensity that you have for it, the intensity you have, in general—I mean, Big Guy, you are intense-”

He lifted his hand from the gear shift and placed it on her knee, stopping her. Eva held her breath, waiting.

“You want to try again?”

She swallowed, “I know that you sometimes have to do things that aren’t strictly above board, believe me, I know. But, its hard to get out of once you’ve got both feet in.”

Carrillo sighed, hand flexing on the wheel, “I hear you.”

“Good,” she said, daring to put her hand on his, “Maybe take my advice on this.”

The restaurant was tucked in between two brick buildings, the entry a simple door halfway through an alley. If she didn’t already trust the man, Eva might have thought he was leading her to her death. She blindly followed him inside, the smell of spice hitting her square in the stomach.

It was dimly lit, the walls all brick.  There were tables scattered around the room, each with a simple white tablecloth and place settings. A waitress led them to one near the back, speaking with Carrillo in a way that told her he was regular.

They sat, and Eva picked up the menu, looked at it, and set it down, “You know what? You order for me.”

His mouth thinned, “What do you like?”

She rested her head on her palm, “I’m pretty easy to please.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he murmured, looking up as the waitress approached.

He ordered in Spanish, and though she recognized a few words, it was too fast for her to pick up anything substantial. She really needed to pick up some books from the library, or see if Connie had some she could borrow.

The waitress brought a pair of highball glasses and set one in front of each of them. Eva picked it up and smelled it. Strong, lightly spiced, probably bourbon.

“You know, I’m not supposed to be drinking while I’m working.”

He sipped, looking at her from over the rim of his glass, “Is that in the contract?”

“Yes, actually. Page two, I think. No illicit substances while on the clock.”

Head tilted to the side, Carrillo gave her a kind of conspiratorial look, “But, you’re not on the clock. You’re at lunch.”

She rolled her eyes, relenting. She tipped back the glass, drawing just a little into her mouth. The amber liquid burned hot down her throat and she coughed a bit.

“Wow,” she said as she regained her breath. “I’m going to have to be on a one drink limit with that. I still have to read through last month’s reports and I’d like to not fall asleep at my desk.”

He set his glass down, leaning on his forearms, “That boring?”

“Dear God, yes.  You’d think they’d, I don’t know, put a little spin on it, add a little flair,” she waved her hand, “Make it interesting for people like me who have to read them over and over.”

“At its core, this is pretty boring work,” he offered by way of explanation.

Eva lifted a brow, “It doesn’t have to be. I can think of, like, ten ways to make it more fun off the top of my head.”

Carrillo paused, then said, “Okay, I’ll bite. Tell me one way it can be more fun.”

Eyes flicking to the side, Eva considered her options, “Alright, first off, you could get a little inventive with the sting operations.”

He was definitely holding off a smile when he asked, “Inventive?”

“Yeah,” she said, “Throw in a flame thrower or two.”

He laughed outright, “A flame thrower? You think we have the budget for a flame thrower?”

Eva rolled a shoulder, “You could probably get one second hand. I’m sure some of my old contacts are still in business if you need a reference.”

“A flame thrower,” he repeated as the waitress brought their food.

Eva gave him her winningest smile as she picked up her fork, “I’m gonna have to have you order more often. This looks amazing.”

On her plate was a steaming empanada, the fried dough cracking when she cut into it.

“I told you. Good food.”

“Remind me to take your word for it when it comes to food,” she said, taking a bite. “This is the best thing I’ve had in weeks.”

“You don’t cook much?”

She shook her head, “I cook, but I am really bad at grocery shopping. I buy too much and then half of it goes bad before I can use it. That, and the stash.”

“The stash?”

Eva looked down, chastising herself for just talking way too much, “Uh, yeah. I hide sweets from myself so that I don’t eat them. Even though I know where they are, its better that I don’t see them. Self control is not my forte when it comes to chocolate.”

She shut her jaw quickly, forking food into her mouth to keep from elaborating further. He was looking at her, and though he wasn’t smiling, she could see the amusement in his eyes. Oh, God, why couldn’t she shut her mouth?

“Let’s go back to the flame thrower.  You know how to get one?”

Later, he walked her out of the restaurant as he had walked her in, with a hand on her back, guiding her. They didn’t make it more than a step or two down the alley before he pressed against her center of gravity, moving her to stand against the brick wall behind her.

Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed her. Eva sighed against his mouth, arms coming up to wrap around him securely. She pulled him closer, urging him to lay more of his weight into her.

Breaking away, he dropped his forehead to hers, “I’ve been wanting to do that since you came into my office.”

She smiled slowly, “You’re welcome to any time you like.”

“Any time?”

Eva nodded, running a hand from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck.

He shifted his stance, mouth lowering next to her ear, “You should be careful what you offer me. I will take it.”

She felt a frisson race over her skin and she bolstered her courage, saying, “I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t want to give it to you.”

Against her, he breathed deeply. She felt his heart pound beneath her hands. All around her, Eva could feel him—his arms, his scent, his heat. She sank down into it, eyes closing.

The sound of his watch beeping dragged her out of the fog, settling her firmly back into her heels on the asphalt. Turning his wrist, he looked down at it.

“I need to get back.”

“Sure, sure.”

He took her hand, pulling her from the wall and down the alley towards where they parked, “Let me take you out.”

Eva’s brows lifted, “Like, a date?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Epilogue

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, AO3

~*CS*~

Los Angeles, Three Years Later

“You know, the last time I was here they only gave me those itty bitty bottles of water.”

Killian laughed to himself but kept his eyes trained to his phone.  He knew if he looked up the love of his life would be scowling at the unnecessarily large bottles of expensive water lined up along the counter of the green room they were waiting in.  Emma Swan was prone to many wonderful things but graciously giving up on a grudge was not one of them.

“The last time you were here you hadn’t won five Grammys in one fell swoop.  When I was doing the first interviews with Realm of Jewels we were lucky to get cups of tap water.  We thought a slice of lemon was the height of luxury.”

“Yeah, well that was what?  Three hundred years ago?” She teased, moving across the room to flop down beside him on the couch with a huff, “They should at least have a water cooler or something.  Reusable bottles are the way of the future.”

“First you complain about the water they’re providing and now you’re complaining about the one their not?  Can they do nothing to please you?”

He looked over at her with a raised brow and she gave him a smirk.

“They fired Walsh so that’s a step in the right direction.”

“Thank bloody fuck,” he growled, turning back to his phone with a scowl.

Emma had eventually told him the full extent of what had happened the day of her interview with Walsh Hoakley.  Not only had the wanker reported gossip as though it were truth, which caused the brief falling out between him and Emma that had made them both miserable, but the berk had hit on her not ten minutes after.  When she finally had told him, only a few days after they had reconciled, it had taken an hour for him to calm down and at least a week for her to convince him not to fight her battles for her.  The news of Hoakley’s firing less than a year later had been celebrated with a sparkling cider toast.

“So-” Emma peered over his shoulder and he felt some of his tension melt away, “What’s got you paying more attention to your phone than the expensive goodies they’re trying to get on our good side with?”

With a snort he tilted his phone towards her, “Just going over the contract one last time.”

“We have a fancy lawyer for that don’t we?” She asked crossing her arms as she sat back, “And Ruby wouldn’t try to scam you.  I mean, look what’s happened since she decided to become my manager instead of staying in my backing band.”

“Well, aside from those five Grammys I mentioned-”

“What?!” Emma’s brows shot up and her mouth dropped open in clearly feigned shock, “I won five Grammys?  I had no idea!”

“Hush, love, you deserved them and I’m honored to brag on your behalf,” he chided though he gave her a wink, “Although, I don’t rightly think we can give Ruby the credit for that.”

She scoffed and burrowed further into the couch, “If she hadn’t forced me to let you audition then we wouldn’t have met.  Then we wouldn’t have had our grand romance that in turn inspired In the Middlemist and I wouldn’t have won those Grammys.”

“I believe that we would have met eventually, love.  If not through our careers then we would have certainly been invited to Ruby’s wedding where I would have been immediately smitten with the blonde in the crimson bridesmaid dress,” he said lowly, pleased to see her cheeks flush.

“And I probably would have freaked out even more meeting you for the first time there than at the studio.  You know how much I like seeing you in a suit-” she said huskily, leaning up to press a soft kiss under his jaw.  Then she sat back and smiled wide, “Even then Ruby would still be the reason we met.  That’s why I dedicated it to her and not you.”

“Is that why?  I thought it was because you were still upset with me over the tiny misunderstanding over your choice in vehicle.”

He gave her a knowing look and she glared right back at him.  When he raised his brow in challenge she rolled her eyes at him.

“Fine, that was part of it,” she conceded, “But I did mention you in every acceptance speech.”

“Which was wonderful aside from the camera they kept shoving in my face to capture my every proud tear in HD,” he grumbled, remembering the repeated messages from Will that were just the GIF of him crying after Emma had said she loved him onstage holding her third award of the night.  He blew out a breath, “As I was saying: aside from all that I will admit that your career has flourished under Ruby’s care.  She has become quite the adversary of Regina, stealing her best clients away.”

“Regina’s over it now,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand, “Ever since you reintroduced her to Robin in a non-business setting and then moved to that corner office things have been great.”

Just as he was about to make a somewhat lewd comment as to exactly why both those things would put Regina in a good mood there was a knock on the door.  It was opened a moment later by the intern that had initially led them there.

“They’re ready for you, if you’d like to follow me.”

He let Emma proceed him as he stowed his phone in his pocket.  She was right, of course, Ruby wouldn’t dream of sneaking in last minute changes to the contract making her his new manager.  If anything she would have been fine with a verbal agreement and the promise of making her the godmother of whatever child he and Emma might have.  Unfortunately all of their fancy, and expensive, lawyers required things in writing and in triplicate.

The intern led them to a broadcasting studio that looked like every other one he’d ever been interviewed in.  One glaring difference, however, was the radio host who squealed when she saw them and practically skipped towards them with open arms.

“Finally, you guys!  I’ve been waiting all week for this!”

Emma laughed and accepted the hug easily, “Us too, Tink.  Killian’s had it marked in all of our calendars the second Ruby booked it.”

Tink pulled back from Emma and gave him a wide smile, “I’d heard she finally got you to make it official.  There’s no stopping her now.”

“As though there was a chance before,” he chuckled. “Lovely to see you again, TInk.”

“If you guys lived here I’d see you more,” she chided gently before stepping forward to wrap her arms around him, “Everyone’s still on for dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Of course, Will wouldn’t let us hear the end of it if we didn’t,” he scoffed, giving her a light squeeze before letting go.

“Great!  I still can’t believe he ditched Emma to be in your band,” She said with a laugh, grinning broadly at Emma’s frown.  Something over his shoulder caught her eye and she nodded before focusing back on them, “Alright, my producer’s about to throw a fit if we waste any more time.  Go ahead and get settled while I do my thing.”

As he and Emma moved to the seats awaiting them Tink bounced over to her chair and donned her headphones.  With a bit of awe and intimidation he watched Tink easily slip into performance mode, softening her accent and dialing up her enthusiasm as she introduced herself and the start of her broadcast block.  She hadn’t been a DJ for long but he could clearly see she had found her calling.  When she teased their interview she gave them an overexaggerated wink that had him stifling a laugh.

After two songs and a small promo of Enchanted’s other stations Tink gave them a thumbs up as her producer let them know that their mics were live.

“That was the latest from The Killers and I don’t know about you but I’m more than ready for their new album to be released.  I’m Tink and this is Rock Alt, home to all the alternative rock hits here on Enchanted XM.  Today is a very exciting day because in the studio with me, right this very moment, are two people that you should be very familiar with: five time Grammy winner and indie darling Emma Swan and two time Grammy winner and alt rock god Killian Jones.  Once upon a time I toured with Emma as part of her backing band and on one of those more memorable tours Killian decided to join us.  Welcome, welcome!”

“I can truthfully say we’re excited to be here,” Emma chimed in brightly, her grin wide and happy.

“Yes, thanks for having us, love,” Killian said warmly. “Though I feel it’s only right to mention that those two Grammys were won with Realm of Jewels.”

“Aw, it’s only a matter of time before they’ll be joined by plenty of others, especially with this new album-” Tink waggled her eyebrows and he had a feeling she wasn’t going to go easy on them just because she was their friend. “There’s no question that you two are more than just friendly collaborators, with a couple of writing credits on each other’s albums and a duet on Killian’s acoustic cover album of Realm of Jewels’ greatest hits.  We’ve also seen the red carpet photos and Instagram glimpses of your romance.”

He looked over at Emma and received an eye roll in return.  When they’d first truly started dating they’d kept it hidden from anyone that wasn’t close friends or family.  They had both felt that they wanted to start their relationship without the hounding from the press and scrutiny from the gossip mongers.  It wasn’t until nearly a year and a half later, when Emma had clearly been his date to American Music Awards, that they’d gone public.  Even then they had both agreed that they’d keep their personal lives as private as possible and continued to do so.  Including the fact that they’d been married for two years.

“But now you’ve released a surprise album as a duo,” Tink continued, “going by the name Charles & Leia, which also happens to be the title of the album.  It’s amazing by the way and if any of you out there haven’t listened to it yet I suggest you do so, but only after this interview is over, of course.  So, how did this come about and why Charles & Leia?”

Emma gave him a shrug and a nod and he leaned closer to his mic, “As you mentioned earlier we’ve been playing together for some time now.  After that tour I was a part of we were both starting on our next albums and would often work through arrangements or fine tune lyrics, using the other as a sounding board.  This has, as evidenced, continued through the years until one day we thought we might try our hands at creating a whole album together.”

“We didn’t want it to be an album of my songs featuring him or vice versa though,” Emma chimed in. “Then it would have just been the same thing we’d already been doing which would have been fun but kinda boring at the same time.  We wanted to challenge ourselves to create something new together from the beginning.  Luckily our label was open to the idea and let us run with it.”

“And the name?” Tink prodded.

“A bit of an inside joke, really,” he said with a chuckle, reaching over to clasp Emma’s hand in his, “Whenever we made reservations or had to give a name for whatever reason I used Charles and Emma used Leia.  I don’t even remember why-”

Emma snorted, “When he made the reservations for our first date and they asked for a name he panicked.  We’d been watching The Crown and he blurted out the name Charles.  At least he didn’t completely lose his shit and say Elizabeth.”

Emma’s eyes widened at the curse and clapped her hands over her mouth.  Tink waved her hand in dismissal.  Not a moment later the producer let them know through their headphones that cursing was fine but to keep it to a minimum if possible.

“Anyway,” Emma said evenly, though her cheeks were pink, “When it was my turn to make reservations I kept it going.  Princess Leia was my hero when I was a kid.  Still is actually.”

“As she is for us all,” Killian jumped in, “Of course we no longer use those as our aliases but when we were trying to decide how we wanted to present ourselves for this album this seemed appropriate.”

“We also figured it would give people the chance to listen to the songs without already having an idea of what they thought it should sound like because they knew it was us,” Emma explained, “I mean, it’s not like we’re trying to deceive anyone or anything but a lot of times people don’t try something out because they think they know exactly what it’s going to be.  I know I’m totally guilty of it sometimes.”

“I’ve been listening to the album non-stop since it came out last week and you’re absolutely right, if I hadn’t already known that it was you two I wouldn’t have even been able to guess.  Now, I’ve played alongside both of you and have been a fan of each of your music since both of your beginnings and I have to say, Charles & Leia is nothing like the music you’ve released before.  What would you say were the biggest influences on how you approached the creation of this album?”

Killian took a moment to consider Tink’s question.  He immediately dismissed sharing the long convoluted answer that began with innocent questions about one another’s past that led to a months long search into the mystery of Emma’s beginnings that came up empty while he nearly spiralled out of control once more over the unhealed pain of his borderline abusive and neglectful father.  They were still working through some of those issues in therapy and even with the personal nature of the songs they’d written he didn’t feel it was necessary to elaborate on what the lyrics already implied.

“I can’t speak for Emma but for me it’s a look to the past and what influence it has on the present and the future.  Take the title track for instance, my mother was Irish so I looked to the old Celtic folk songs and the instruments used, mimicking the flow of the music before playing around with more modern sounds.  The result was entirely unique but still felt familiar, like an auditory deja vu, if you will.”

Tink was nodding furiously while Emma rolled her eyes at him, “I definitely won’t be that eloquent but yeah, we both have things in our past that sometimes takes a toll on who we are today.  Our music was already pretty personal.  I mean, I’ve written songs about growing up in foster care or when I was in jail but this was something else.  Every day when we finished recording whatever song we were working on I felt like I’d been turned inside out and then wrung out but in a good way?  It makes no sense but I’ve also never been this proud of one of my albums.”

“Well you should both be damn proud!  I may be the tad bit biased but I think this may be the best album to come out this year and we’re only halfway through,” Tink effused.

“Thank you lass,” he mumbled as he scratched behind his ear at the compliment.

He caught Emma’s eye and she gave him an indulgent smile.  She was well aware that sincere praise always tended to discomfit him, as he felt he was undeserving of it, especially when it came from someone he knew well.  It was something he was working on getting better at accepting, with her help of course.

“Since the album was a surprise release there hasn’t been any confirmation of a tour yet.  Any chance we’ll be seeing you two taking this act on the road?”

“We’re doing a kind of a mini tour on the east coast and then a couple of dates out here,” Emma explained, her eyes sparkling, “We didn’t want to get too ahead of ourselves and book a bunch of dates and then not have anyone show up.”

“I doubt that will be a problem,” Tink dismissed with a bright laugh, “From what I’ve been told nearly every show is sold out.  So if any of you listeners out there want to see Emma and Killian perform songs from this brilliant new album I’d say don’t wait to buy your tickets.  I already have mine.

“Now, I know this album is only weeks old and you both have flourishing solo careers but I have to ask: can we expect even bigger things from you two in the future?”

With a smile he had no hope of quelling he gave Emma a wink, though he was reasonably sure that it was nowhere near subtle.  It didn’t matter though, as no one had a clue what it could mean since she had only shown him the positive pregnancy test earlier that morning.  Emma gave him a beaming grin of her own and he kept his eyes on her as he spoke into his mic.

“I think you can, Tink.  In fact, I’m quite certain that this is merely the happy beginning of grand things to come.”

[romancandlemagazine]

An Interview with Alexander Wolfe, the man behind Pedestrian Magazine

Pedestrian is a magazine about the humble art of walking. In this interview, I talked with the man with the plan, Alexander Wolfe, about his love for this much maligned form of transport, his recent expedition from New York to Philadelphia, and the art of conversation.

First off, you recently walked from New York City to Philadelphia over nine days. What made you want to do that?

The initial desire to walk to Philadelphia came out living in New York City during the pandemic. I was bound to my apartment for a few months with little to do but walk around my neighborhood. I've always had a habit of walking around the city, but the pandemic only made these walks longer and longer, which eventually led to a 23 mile journey from my apartment in Brooklyn, to the Bronx, and back.

Around that time I was reading The Roads to Sata by Alan Booth and started contemplating longer, multi-day walks. I needed a change of scenery and found the idea of traveling by foot and living out of a bag very appealing. I felt like I'd developed a process here in the city (go on a walk, take photos, write a newsletter about the walk, repeat) and needed to give myself a challenge.  I wanted to lean further into this practice that I've been developing for the last three years.

I'd never considered my walks to be hikes, so it made sense that I'd keep it in an urban setting. Walking to Philadelphia seemed like a no-brainer. What most people don't initially realize is that most of my time was spent walking through New Jersey. I liked the idea of walking in a place that is commonly misrepresented as the "armpit of America" and typically deemed unwalkable. New Jersey is actually a very underrated state. It might be the densest state population-wise, but it's called the Garden State for a reason. Oh yeah, I'd never been to Philadelphia and just really wanted to visit.

How did the walk go? Quite often trips or excursions can be a fair bit different to how you first imagine them… how did the reality of the walk differ from how you thought it was going to be?

I was presented with a new challenge every day. Don't get me wrong, the walk turned out better than I could have ever imagined, but you can never anticipate everything in advance. This was the first time I'd ever walked with a 25 pound bag on my back, let alone the first time I'd walked 9 days in a row. Originally I set out to average 17.75 miles per day, but thanks to my own curiosity, ended up waking 20 miles a day on average. I mapped the entire route a month or two before leaving, but would always deviate from the path in favor of exploring some neighborhood, road, or park that looked appealing. The first day alone ballooned into 27 miles because I got cocky and thought I didn't need to use my map while walking in Manhattan. I learned my lesson and kept my eyes on the map for the rest of the trip.

Another thing I didn't expect was the sensitivity one develops after walking 6-8 hours for days in a row. The smell of exhaust and gasoline becomes more potent. You realize how violently we've shaped the land to build huge highways and abysmal business parks. So much of our infrastructure is built in favor of the car, which makes being a pedestrian incredibly difficult at times. If the built environment didn't present a challenge, it was always the weather, the gnarly blisters on my feet, or my gear malfunctioning. I quickly learned to accept these challenges. It was just another component of the walk.

A lot of times people go for ‘a walk’, they’re seeking out beauty spots or nice scenery—maybe in nature reserves or the countryside, but your walk was cutting through some fairly overlooked places… industrial estates and small towns. Do people miss out by not seeing the whole picture of somewhere? Is just driving through these places to get to the destination sort of cheating?

I wouldn't consider driving to be cheating – it's just another way we alienate ourselves from the world around us. When we drive, we experience the world at a speed that makes it nearly impossible to pay attention to the fine details. Our relationship to place is abstracted, especially thanks to the rise of GPS. We no longer have to have a physical relationship to these towns. We don't even have to remember how to get to them. Driving around in a car reduces these places to nothing more than a label on a map or a convenient place to stop for gas.

It's important to have relationships with the places surrounding you. The walk has given me an intimate experience with the space between New York City and Philadelphia. I know what it looks like, I know how it feels to be there. I can tell you where residents stop hanging New York Yankees flags in favor of Philadelphia Phillies flags. If I'm watching the Soprano's and Tony references Metuchen, NJ then I know exactly what he's talking about. I think to understand a place, such as New York City, it's just as important to understand the places around it. There are generations of people who once called the Big Apple home, but decided to plant their roots in Jersey for one reason or another.

I suppose you could have read about some of these places on Wikipedia, but being there is a completely different thing. Is experiencing stuff first hand important?

It's very important if you actually want to understand a place. It's too easy to create our own narratives without ever visiting a place. I still tried to do my share of research before heading out. I have friends from North Jersey or the Philadelphia Metro and tried to take their opinions with a grain of salt. I spent some time reading about certain towns along the way on Wikipedia or scanned Reddit to get a vibe. I even previewed chunks of the walk on Google Street View to mentally prepare and know if it was actually safe to walk near some of these roads. I could have spent months preparing, but it never would actually replace walking in these small towns and cities. It's so much different when you're on the ground.

I suppose the main reason we’re talking is that you make a magazine based around the idea of walking. How long have you been making Pedestrian? What started it off?

I released the first issue of Pedestrian back in March of 2018. I was living in Ridgewood, Queens at the time and made friends with a guy named Curtis Merkel (I actually met him while out on a walk). He ran a moving business for a few decades and retired. At 84 years old he opened up a tiny little bookshop to keep himself busy. I'd visit him every weekend to check out his books and eventually we'd just get to talking. He'd lived in Ridgewood his entire life and loved to talk about the neighborhood's history. Moving to NYC also introduced me to a thriving community of zine makers. I wanted to share these conversations I'd had with Curtis in print form, so I decided to start a magazine. I invited a few friends to contribute and the rest was history.

Since then, the identity of Pedestrian has become quite fluid. While it started as a magazine, I would now describe Pedestrian as my own practice. It's a platform that allows me to collaborate with others, produce magazines, write newsletters, go on these long multi-day walks, and produce t-shirts. I have found this configuration gives me the most creative freedom.

A lot of your magazine is about meeting people and striking up conversations. Is this a lost art these days?

I don't know if it's a lost art per se, but there's less incentive to reach out and talk with strangers these days. Thanks to the rise of social media it's just getting easier and easier to stay within our own "bubbles." Starting Pedestrian, in a way, was an excuse for me to speak with those I typically wouldn't reach. It's amazing how having a publication kind of takes the fear out of speaking with strangers. You can do anything when you have intention.

Although walking is something most people do, is it overlooked as an activity? It seems it’s mostly seen as an inconvenience, rather than a hobby in itself.

It depends where you live. In New York City, for example, walking is a part of the culture. The city is built in such a way that makes walking a viable means of transportation. And if you can't walk to your destination, you're likely walking to a subway or a bus. Where I'm from in Iowa, walking is very inconvenient. Everything is spaced out, which makes walking anywhere very difficult. It’s not that people don’t want to walk, it’s just the way we’ve built certain communities has made it very hard to enjoy. It makes people think walking is very inconvenient.

I’m here in Iowa until August and it’s been interesting to walk a place that is so reliant on cars. The other day I did a 13.5 walk around the city. There’s nothing here stopping you from walking (unless the heat gets you. Technically we’re in the middle of a drought. It’s been incredibly hot as of late), and there’s plenty of sidewalk. I think it’s mostly just a mindset people have to develop. It doesn’t matter how many miles you walk, it’s just about getting out there. Your mental health will thank you and you might even learn something new about your surroundings along the way.

Walking is maybe the antithesis to the internet, but Pedestrian also has a decent presence on the World Wide Web, and you regularly send newsletters and... er... partake in the digital world. How do you balance the real world with the matrix?

It’s a relationship I’m constantly reevaluating. I’m not a master of balancing the two yet, but I’m slowly building habits that will protect my time. I often daydream of abandoning social media altogether and picking up a flip phone. I obviously haven’t done that yet, so in the meantime, I’m investing a lot of time in my newsletter. Sending out a newsletter is a much more thoughtful, intimate, and slow experience...kind of like the way I approach my walks out in the world. I understand that the web is a tool and I’m not sure the Philly walk would have gotten the same amount of attention had I not had an Instagram account. It’s cliche, but everything in moderation, right? I try not to take it so seriously.

What next for Pedestrian?

The Philly walk was such a great success and I’d like to keep that momentum going. Later in September I have another big, big walk planned, but I have yet to announce the route. Look for an announcement sometime next month. This one will be a bit longer and involve 3 different cities. I can’t wait.

Once winter hits I’m going to buckle down and produce a proper book for the Philly walk that will include all my writing and photos I took along the journey. I’m already excited to share the finished product with the world. Stay tuned.

Final question, what are your walking shoes of choice? And what's your soundtrack? Are earphones advised for long walks, or do you prefer the ambient sounds of the streets?

I’m a big fan of Hoka Clifton’s. I wore them throughout the entire Philly walk and have two pairs in my closet. At this point, Hoka should probably pay me for how much business I send their way. I’m always recommending them.

I prefer not to wear headphones and just listen to the ambient sounds of the street. More often than not, I find wearing headphones to be a bit distracting and it takes me out of the present moment. Although, I’ll admit I have been trying to introduce music into my walking once again, but few tracks make the cut. Lately Andrew Wasylyk’s Last Sunbeams of Childhood has been on repeat. There’s something about that track...

Find out more about Pedestrian here. Pedestrian is available in the UK courtesy of Central Library.

[rabbitmarrow]

Forty miles from her home in South Los Angeles Mitrice Richardson sat in a Lost Hills Sherriff's Department located in Calabasas, California.

Mitrice was an intelligent, goal orientated, care free, 24 year old, college graduate with a bachelor of arts in psychology. In 2009 she was working towards a masters degree. To support herself she worked at ex-girlfriend Tessa Moon's family business and part time as a go go dancer at a popular lesbian night club.

For the past several months leading up to the event which took place, Richardson had been increasingly acting in ways those close to her deemed "strange" and "odd". Most notably her mother Latice Sutton had began receieving text messages from Mitrice, one reading, "Im writing a book (my journals) because u told me I can be anything I wanted…u told me I was Miss America, u told me I was Americas Next Top Model…now do u know what I want to be when I grow up? Miss Mother Nature…cuz Miss America is a fake ass joke along with everything else we 'see' so I'm trying to find my way to Michelle Obama to see if she will talk to Mr. Obama about creating my position within the White House."

Latice replied "Call me!" to which Mitrice responded "I feel joy mommie…not everyone has to die to live. I heard in the Bible Jesus dies so we can live forever… now I have to prove the 'unlogic'

On the afternoon of September 16, 2009 Mitrice stated that while at work she had been watching a soap opera and that Jesus spoke to her telling her to take the rest of the afternoon off, which she did.

She ended up at Geofferys, an upscale restaurant located in Malibu. Once there she used the valet service. Before going in to the restaurant she went and sat in the valet staffers own car. He had asked why she was there, "its subliminal" is all Mitrice answered.

Inside the restaurant Richardson ordered a cocktail and steak. She spoke of avenging Michael Jacksons death and joined a large group of guests she did not know. She spoke to them about astrological signs and an upcoming trip to Hawaii, she promised she'd call them once she got there. Staffers checked on the group and while this was all strange, the group assured them that everything was fine.

Mitrice eventually returned to her own table and once finished with her meal proceeded to leave without paying. She was stopped and asked to pay. She wouldn't be able to she said, unless she could offer sex as payment, or maybe call her great grandmother. The manager allowed her to call Mildred, her 90 year old great grandmother whom she was currently living with. Mildred was offering to pay the $89 bill through credit card over the phone. However, they would need a signature which would require Mildred to be there in person, something she wasn't able to do.

During the conversation Mitrice seemed unfazed by what was going on and continued to make odd remarks. With staffers growing more concerned for her well being, the police were called.

Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department arrived and talked to staffers and Mildred regarding Mitrice. A field sobreity test was conducted on Richardson, she was sober. They could see Mitrice was acting a bit strange, but overall thought she was fine. They were not going to arrest her until the manager decided to press charges for her not paying the meal ticket in hopes that she would be taken to the sheriff department or hospital for a mental wellness check.

With Mildred still on the phone she commented to Mitrice, "they're gettin' ready to take your black ass to jail." to which no response came from Richardson.

Richardson's car with her purse and phone inside was searched and taken to a nearby impound lot.

Mildred notified Richardsons mother Latice letting her know the situation that had unfolded.

Latice called the L.A. Sheriffs Department around 9:30pm asking when her daughter would be released. They assured her they wouldn't relase her until the next morning. Latice had her 10 year old daughter asleep at home with her and didn't want to drag her 40 miles away in the middle of the night, so she stated to a deputy, "I think the only way I will come out there tonight is if you guys are going to release her... she's not from that area and I

I would hate to wake up to a morning report of 'Girl Lost Somewhere with Her Head Chopped Off' "

Upon their loose assement of Mitrice's mental state, they found her to be well enough to be released at 12:28am, even though several statements have deputies claiming they believed Mitrice to be suffering a bipolar episode.

At 5:35am Latice called the department and became enraged and extremely concerned to learn Mitrice had been released to wander off alone.

Little is known about what happened after Mitrice Richardson left the Sherrifs Department, other than she set off down the desolate road on foot.

Latice was advised by Deputy Kenneth Bomgardner to wait at least 24 hours to report Mitrice missing, which she did.

Over the next 11 months several searches of the surrounding area were conducted as well as the reviewing of the security footage collected from the sheriff department. Unfortunately any signs of Mitrice never came to light from the ground searches, but a possible lead came from that night she was released. Edited footage shows Mitrice leaving the sheriffs department followed out the door by a deputy. After being questioned on numerous occasions by journalists the unnamed deputy commented, “The night this nonsense happened, I was one of the guys that kept away from this, minding my own business.”

On August 11, 2010 the mummified body of Mitrice Richardson was found in a creek bed.

Her remains were poorly collected by police without supervison of the lead coroner, and the surrounding area was not secured for investigation. The usual procedure of collecting soil samples and taking photos fell to the wayside. The lack of regard for proper collection made it very difficult for any sort of evidence to be collected and lead to the coroner not being able to conclude a manner of death, just saying there didn't seem to be any foul play.

Lt. Michael Rosson, who supervised the LASD in the removal of Richardson, stated that he believes: animals removed Mitrice's clothing, she may have been bitten by a rattlesnake, or that she may have went into anaphylactic shock after being in contact with poison oak.

Rosson along with other LASD spokesmen state that in no way was this a homicide and that the LASD is in no way responsible for Mitrice Richardson's death.

The retrieval of Mitrice Richardson was so sloppy and unethical that it drew concerned interest from Clea Koff, a former FBI United Nations forensic anthropologist. Koff now runs the Missing Person's Identification Resource Center. Koff stated her disgust for the lack of evidence and disputed the theories given by Rosson.

A few months after Mitrice's body was found, Latice, a family friend, and Clea Koff went to the creek bed and found a finger bone belonging to Mitrice.

In July 2011, Latice Sutton had Richardson's body exhumed for further investigation. Koff hoped the FBI would conduct the autopsy, unfortunately they declined. LASD's crime lab conducted the autopsy with no new findings.

Latice Sutton and Michael Richardson each filed lawsuits against the LASD for their negligence in Mitrice's case. They were each awarded $450,000.

They also asked for the California attorney general Kamala Harris to review the LASD's reports regarding Mitrice. In 2005, after the 500 page report was reviewed Harris announced "there was insufficient evidence to support criminal prosecution of anyone involved in the handling of the case."

Sadly as of 2020, Mitrice Richardsons case remains cold.

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Now begins the lame duck pardon party.

Every outgoing president issues tons of pardons in their final weeks in office to tie up any loose threads and appease their supporters.  I for one think the president shouldn’t have the power to unilaterally overrule a duly adjudicated criminal conviction, as it spits in the face of the rule of law.  Especially under an administration as corrupt as this one, the pardon is a blank check for the president’s allies to commit any federal crime they want for any reason with no fear of prosecution.

Trump pardoned Flynn who admitted he lied to the FBI, he already pardoned Roger Stone, he’s probably going to pardon Paul Manafort, possibly Michael Cohen (Cohen jumped off the Trump Train and became a registered Democrat, but he’s a bloodsucking lawyer first and foremost, so he’ll jump right back on it if the gettin’s good enough).  There have been too many names, big and small, that have been charged for breaking the law to protect Trump, and like good little mobsters the ones who didn’t squeal will be hailed as heroes by conservatives everywhere.  “Congratulations, you got away with it scot free!”

The most telling thing will be when Trump begins pardoning people who haven’ yet been convicted of anything.  When Richard Nixon resigned, Ford pardoned him before he could face justice; his pardon was purposefully broad, covering any and all crimes that Nixon may or may not have committed or witnessed throughout his entire tenure in office.  It was a pre-emptive pardon, meant to stop the judicial process before it even started, and Trump will almost certainly reward his biggest cronies with these sweeping pardons; he might do it now, or he might wait until January 19th so they can go carte blanche for two months.  He is printing literal “Get Out of Jail Free” cards.  How far back will the pardons go?  Nixon’s covered just his presidency from January 20, 1969 to August 9, 1974, so will Trump’s pardons range from January 2017?  A lot of crimes were committed by his campaign, so 2016?  2015?  He and his goons have been grifting for decades, and the only limit to his pardon power is that he can’t undo impeachment, but considering he was acquitted it is irrelevant anyway.  I expect some of his closest advisors, attorneys, and cabinet members will be pardoned for crimes going back well into the 1970s an 80s, crimes the media doesn’t even know about, many crimes for which the statue of limitations had already expired, but Trump will want to cover his bases anyway.

And the big question is whether or not Trump will try to pardon himself.  The constitution doesn’t say he can’t, but it’s never been tested before.  I have no idea what the Supreme Court would have to say about a self-pardon; it is an open secret in politics that the president is effectively above the law, but it’s not on any books so everyone can still pretend like laws matter and crimes will be punished.  But if Trump pardons himself, and it is allowed, it will establish this as lasting legal precedent, meaning that every future President will be handed a blank check to commit any crimes he wants with ZERO repercussion.  Their popularity would probably tank if they did something egregious, or it might fuel their base and make them more popular than ever, but however the public responds, they will be sitting pretty knowing that they’re untouchable.  They can lie and cheat and steal and do things much worse than Trump already has, free in the knowledge that no prosecution can ever be laid against them.  If there was ever even a question of the legality of a president’s actions, they could pardon themselves and make it disappear.  They could assassinate political opponents, they could throw dissidents in prison without trial, they could cancel elections and throw away the constitution entirely because they can pardon themselves faster than the House could impeach and the Senate could convict.

Trump absolutely will try to pardon himself, though I don’t think he expects it to be successful.  No, I think his endgame is just to drag out the process so long that the statue of limitations will expire while his self pardon is still being appealed.  Say he committed a crime in 2016 and it has a 5 year statute; if he pardons himself and fights in the courts until 2022, the statue will expire and the pardon will be irrelevant, whether the court upholds it or not.  He just wants to obstruct, to slow things down, cause as much gridlock as humanly possible so that he can coast to freedom on a raft of bloated bureaucracy.  He expects the self pardon to fail, but he expects it to take so long to decide that it won’t matter.

The only saving grace is that he will still be culpable for state crimes.  Of course, any red state governors will pardon him at his request, but he made the mistake of doing all his business in Deep Blue New York.  Cuomo is gonna fry his ass.  Trump and McConnell have been pushing through literal hundreds of Trump-friendly judges to stack the courts in his favor, so the Biden administration will have its work cut out for them, but there are enough prosecutors in enough independent jurisdictions without conflicted judges to see the entire Trump Crime Family face decades of jail time.  Now, I don’t expect them to serve any considerable length, maybe a few months in minimum security before being released to house arrest and then paroled for “good behavior,” and I know that no matter what happens Trump will claim victory (he’ll either be found not guilty, or he’ll cry foul and appeal to a higher court he helped staff to get himself off), but Thank God for the 10th Amendment.  States ave considerable power over the feds, a right which conservatives have been fighting for for centuries, and now it’ll come back to bite them in the ass when the other side decides to start using it.  “Wait, we thought only we were allowed to do whatever we wanted...  You can’t do that yourself, that’s not fair to us!”

Trump may try to call Double Jeopardy; pardon himself for federal crimes then claim that he can no longer be charged for state crimes, but I don’t think it will hold up in New York.  SCOTUS is another matter; with 6-3, I’m sure they’ll find a way to protect their Golden Goose.

The entire system needs to be burned to the ground.  The constitution is broken, we need a frame-off restoration, a whole new document from the ground up.  It’ll never happen, but a Constitutional Convention would do wonders for this country; other countries rewrite their constitutions all the time, but America’s amendment process is completely nonfunctional by design.  We need big change, and that’s gonna require some very reluctant old Liberals to shift further left and actually balance the out of control right.

[stay4stray]

Map for Broken Compass and the Stray Kids Timeline

Recently, Stray Kids have been displaying a lot of performances with literary and/or cinematic themes - often 2 in one (Dead Poet’s society, Game of Thrones).  In the Intro to Levanter video, Chan mentioned inspiration from a book and also a poem, and of course we have the Road Not Taken, referencing Frost’s poem (oh and of course Kung Fu Panda!).  I think these are hints for us, that their MVs have similar allusions - namely, they allude quite a bit to Maze Runner.  After realizing this I did some more research and found that someone else had reached this conclusion long before I did, so watch their video here!  This really makes me want to reread the whole Maze Runner series ‘cause it’s been a while but that’s irrelevant.  Obviously I’m slow catching onto this so I’m not really gonna argue for this as its argument is already established, lucky me!  But understanding this allusion does help with how I’ve come to understand the SKZ storyline through the Map for Broken Compass that was recently released.

The main connections to Maze Runner that I’m concerned with:

dystopia

man vs. society; themes of manipulation

the plot set up as a series of trials, hidden one illusion inside of another (maaaaAAtryoshka? 👀 I kid I think)

the very beginning of the Maze Runner movie has extremely strong parallels to the Hellevator MV)

Note: This isn’t to say that the SKZ storyline is the same as Maze Runner!  It very obviously isn’t, in my opinion.  The villains seem completely different and the overall conflict is likely different (in MR if I remember correctly the overall issue was that the world had suffered from solar flares so it ended up being an environmental conflict?).  I don’t know what the overall conflict of the SKZ storyline is just yet but from Miroh they seem to be setting up a rich vs. poor conflict... Though that might not be the overall issue, just like how MR has multiple layers.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Let’s go back to the Map.  At 3 am two nights ago, I made a super chaotic post about how I think it’s meant to be read, so check that out for details if need be but the main idea is that the motifs from different MVs and the way they reappear in different eras and places on the map is how we can find our chronology.

So in the map image above I’ve labeled various things.  The numbers are the motifs, in no real order, but vaguely in order of their visual placement on the map.  Some have letters, a and b, which are when motifs repeat on the map.  The circles draw attention to some things that I think are likely important but am personally still very confused about.  And then I’ve added some translated lyrics that I think are important to the storyline.

I don’t think Hellevator is the start of the timeline.  I think, like MR, it’s the start of the timeline the boys’ remember.  At that point, I think they’ve already entered their first “trial” or “illusion” - that being, they’ve been given a place to live “happily,” but they’re isolated from anyone except themselves.  The reason they haven’t left is because their way out is labeled Hellevator - in other words, they’re convinced to stay through a combination of contentedness and fear.  However, when they eventually leave, they end up in a field of flowers, which doesn’t exactly scream “Hell,” does it?

In my opinion, My Pace and I am YOU are directly connected and in that order - they almost have to be, based on the MVs, I think.  I believe My Pace is the start of the timeline as we know it - I think it is where the conflict between the boys and society starts, as the boys decide to do their own thing, go their own speed.  This is further confirmed when Jisung takes down the camera in I am YOU, which may be the significance fo the broken camera that I’ve circled in red on the map - even though it’s by the My Pace tunnel, it’s not actually broken until I am YOU!

Similarly, Miroh seems to lead to Side Effects/Yellow Wood based on the MVs.  What’s confusing is there’s a possibility that Side Effects actually happened more than once - that the part where the kids get on the bus did actually happen, but somehow they eventually ended up at the same crossroads and took the other path.  On the map, the elevator connects the two of them, which leads me to believe that Hellevator leads directly to I am NOT/District 9.  

Based on motifs, namely the shopping cart and the couch (both of which are in both IAY and the Hellevator MVs btw), Hellevator is up next.  Notably, the Hellevator motifs are placed near the District 9 bus, so we could reasonably say that I am NOT comes next, based on that as well as the elevator.  I mentioned before that their hideout in Hellevator is a place meant to make them complacent, which is supported by the fact that some of their things, the shopping cart and the couch, were taken from their initial I am YOU hideout.  It reminds me of when you move a pet from one place to another and keep their toys with them so that the new place still feels like home.

Based on the 1.5 moon motif, though, Yellow Wood is up next!  Either that, or Yellow Wood came before I am YOU, which I don’t think is the case.  My thought is, Side Effects represents choosing to blend with society or choosing to rebel, so perhaps at one point they chose to go with society, but they eventually realized they were unable to fit in and rebelled, ending up at Hellevator in the end either way.  That’s also why I think the I am NOT part of the map has the Side Effects drone - it’s another point at which they had to make that choice between society and freedom.

From Hellevator, as I’ve mentioned, we go to I am NOT, video-wise this means the I am NOT trailer and the District 9 MV.  From there, we have the bottle of flowers and the field of purple flowers from Hellevator replicated near Levanter... which we can’t say too much about until tomorrow!  But it should lead to Miroh based on the eagle motif and the walkie talkie motif there-- which, people have probably said this already, but the eagle itself likely represents SKZ while the lion represents society (think Young Wings for the eagle and for the lion, it’s attached to things like the City Jungle and the bus driven by the Miroh dude so that checks out imo for more than one reason).  My suspicion is that the use of so many previous motifs in Astronaut represents Hyunjin getting lost and having to remember the way back to where the rest of the group is... This could mean literally having lost his memory or it could be a more figurative form of losing his way.

Anyway, from Miroh we end up at Yellow Wood, based on the elevator on the map as well as the MVs, and this time it’s more literal than the previous encounters with YW - this time they chose a path and throw away the key, never looking back.  They won’t go back to Yellow Wood again because they’ve made their final decision to truly rebel, there’s no going back (which I think may be why Hyunjin was so stressed in SE).

We find ourselves once again at the Levanter part of the map, with the eagle representing running from Miroh’s City Jungle.  And that’s pretty much all I’ve got, at least until tomorrow!

I will say that I think it’s possible that SKZ infiltrates society a few times before fully rebelling, in order to free more people like themselves and build up their forces.  I think something similar happened in Maze Runner as well.  A part of me wonders if SKZ plays themselves, but also other like them in a sort of metaphorical way (if that makes sense?).

It’s also possible that someone else helped them escape from District 9 - the drone that broke in that Chan found, for example.  Where did it come from?  It could have been their past selves, who anticipated their being stuck with wiped memories!  It could also have been other “stray kids” who’ve already escaped.  Maybe it’s I.N’s “twin?”

Okay yeah I think I’m really going off the rails here so I’m gonna wrap up really quick with one final section here!

Things I don’t know what to do with:

keys - my suspicion is that they are part of yet another illusion set up by society (meaning, society wants them to think that the keys will help them escape but it’s all just another trick/trial), and that’s why SKZ has discarded some of them - for example, taking down Miroh will probably not grant full freedom, because freedom is outside of the map, so maybe they discarded the key to return there.

marbles - I’m guessing they have to do with memories somehow but thus far they have only showed up in Astronaut so it’s really hard to see patterns with these just yet.

elevators - I mentioned that they might show direct connections between MVs, but I’m very uncertain about this, actually.

“ghost” I.N who stayed behind in Astronaut - though I will note that he seemed to have a clone or a twin or something in District 9 so that could explain how one I.N went with SKZ and another stayed behind?

[thanksjro]

Last Stand of the Wreckers, Issue #3: Garrus-9 is Fun for the Whole Family

Noticed a little something as I was reading- in issue #1, Roberts is credited for contributing to the story. However, in issue #2 and on, he’s credited as a writer alongside Roche.

Maybe it’s just a change in the how the credits were being labelled within IDW, because it never seems to stay consistent between series, but that’s still quite the jump. He’s accumulating power much faster than I originally thought. How delightful, and also terrifying.

Getting back to the story, we open up this issue with a flashback: two years ago, Overlord deigned it necessary to reunite Shockwave’s head with his body. Now, this was still nearly a year after he’d first taken over Garrus-9, and Shockwave can’t help but question the wait.

Back when Megatron still had Overlord under him, he had Shockwave slap something called an “Achilles virus” into the guy. This virus made it impossible for Overlord to comprehend any weaknesses Megatron might have- something positively devastating to a tactician as ruthless as Overlord. He, of course, wants the thing removed. Shockwave agrees.

With how many of the IDW universe’s problems this chunky purple fuck is responsible for, I’d honestly be more surprised if helping Overlord DIDN’T help him further his own agenda in some way.

Once Shockwave frees up Overlord’s processors, he’ll be free to go and cause more mayhem, while Overlord keeps doing his thing on Garrus-9. Shockwave, because he’s a smarty-pants, knows what he’s up to- he’s trying to goad Megatron into coming to see him, by way of ultraviolence.

When I was a little kid- we’re talking no more than five- if I wanted my parents to come see me after I’d woken up in the morning, I’d do this god-awful thing where I’d shriek at the top of my lungs repeatedly and then hide under my blankets acting as if I’d been sleeping like a perfect little angel the whole time. This feels a lot like that, except Overlord’s been screaming for three years.

Back in the present, we get a taste of some dramatic irony, by way of Fisitron’s fanboy datalogs.

You’re never going to guess what’s happened.

Since the ping-pong ball Verity was riding in smashed right into where Overlord likes to hang out, it’s looking somewhat grim for them. Not that things are looking any better over here.

Guzzle isn’t much of a team player, it would seem.

Springer’s worried that the others were DOA, but Twin Twist seems to think things are alright.

And he would know, I suppose.

Over in the Pit, Overlord’s greeting his new guests. Rotorstorm tries to break the tension  with a joke. It actually goes over pretty well with Overlord.

Still, it’s a tough crowd.

Back over with Wrecker team A, the boys have just blown up a hallway to buy themselves a little time. Well, Guzzle blew up the hallway, since he’s a tank, but the others were there for moral support.

Things have really hit the fan, and Springer makes the call to split up and look for clues get help. Guzzle and Kup pair up and run for it, which seems appropriately themed, while Twin Twist decides it’s time to break out the alt-mode and dig through the floor so they can get to the Autobot prisoners. Springer’s not too sure about that, seeing as Twin Twist’s hurt, but he says they can take it. Yes, they.

After that painful scene transition, Overlord implores the Wreckers before him to surrender. Perceptor, having a case of terminal bad-ass disease, orders Pyro to keep Verity safe- which he does by stuffing her into his chest?- while he and the others attempt to bare-knuckle box Overlord into submission.

I’m not kidding, he’s just shoving her in there.

While Perceptor and the gang commit suicide, Twin Twist’s just finished drilling, and it’s looking like it’s a bit more of a drop than he was expecting. Luckily, Springer swoops in and catches him before he can take any fall damage.

Both they and Impactor land safely on the floor of an energy reactor, and it looks like they’ve got company.

The company is Kick-Off’s corpse. Guess Overlord kinda sucks at rewarding people.

As Impactor and Springer discuss Kick-Off’s very brief stint as a prison gladiator, Twin Twist makes the horrific discovery that they’ve set off a defense mechanism, and if they don’t get out of there pronto, they’re gonna be robo-toast.

Overlord gets word of these guys running around in the energy reactor as, he kicks Percy and pals’ ass. Repeatedly. Delighted that there are more toys to play with, he makes a prison-wide announcement: anyone who brings him the head of a Wrecker can leave Garrus-9.

I don’t think Percy likes that idea too much.

Without any further ado, Overlord sicks the entire prison populace on the Wreckers. Perceptor, ever the brainiac, buys them a little time by blowing up a fuel tank that managed to survive the ping-pong ball crashing. The Wreckers book it out of the Pit, ready to head for Aequitas. Only one problem- Ironfist is having a breakdown. Perceptor is surprisingly considerate about the whole thing.

Like, this is about as much as anyone could ask for in such a dangerous situation. Of course, Ironfist is a bit too hung up on the complete annihilation of a skull he just witnessed to appreciate Percy’s kindness.

Here’s the thing about fanboys; they have a bit of a habit of putting their heroes on pedestals.

No, the adventuring doesn’t happen until 2012, Ironfist, and you aren’t going to be there for all that.

Seems like Overlord’s presence on Garrus-9 has sort of smashed Ironfist’s dreams of grandeur. Though given the constantly-changing roster, and the fact that Ironfist probably knows more about the Wreckers’ escapades than most, one would think he’d at least be prepared for something this wild to be a possibility.

This whole spouting off attracts Topspin, who berates Ironfist for being a baby. He doesn’t even know why the guy got brought along on this mission, seeing as none of the established Wreckers voted him on. Ironfist is just sort of here. Before we can get into all that though, Perceptor breaks their little squabble up, because we just don’t have time for that right now.

Over with Guzzle and Kup, we’re descending a ladder and reveling in implications, as Guzzle notes how he had a bunch of friends die in a rescue attempt similar to this one. Kup mentions that he hopes the guy being rescued was worth it. Guzzle says that it depends on who you ask.

So we’ve got an angry little tank dude and the old man who’s responsible for several of his friends’ demises, working together, without any other supervision, in an insanely dangerous place filled with murderous Decepticons and high places that don’t follow OSHA regulations. What could possibly go wrong?

Back with Percy and the boys, we finally get the down-low on what Topspin and Twin Twist’s whole deal is. Turns out they’ve got a rare and potentially exploitable manufacturing error- they’ve got branched sparks, which means that their nervous systems overlap to a point where they can feel each other’s pain. This seems like it ought to discourage one from joining the Wreckers, but since when have the Transformers ever been about self-preservation?

Look at that face. It’s like he knows what the narrative’s gearing up towards.

Perceptor’s found a funny part of the wall, which gives him a pretty good feeling that Aequitas is right behind it. It’s at this point that the others start asking just who the hell Aequitas is, and then Pyro remembers he’s still got Verity trapped inside his chest cavity.

Verity is released from the torso jail, a little banged up and a lot pissed off about being forgotten. She starts saying some rather uncalled-for things about the dead before she catches herself, and we get a bit of an insight into Wrecker ideology.

Perceptor has busted through the wall while Topspin’s explaining the group philosophy, and we finally find what Fortress Maximus’ has been up to while all this has been going down.

The Decepticons have been using ol’ Max here as a lock pick, seeing as he wouldn’t just GIVE Overlord the code to the chamber. Perceptor starts cutting the poor guy out of all the cabling he’s hooked up to, and everyone once again questions just what’s up with Aequitas that the Decepticons want to get to him so badly.

Speaking of Decepticons, they’re collecting in droves in the hallway, just itching to rip off some Wrecker heads for a free ticket out of Garrus-9. Perceptor unhooks Fort Max, passes his limbless, eyeless body off to be carried by the two largest friends at his disposal, and the chamber opens up.

This is about the time that the story catches up with the other team of Wreckers, the guys who were trapped in the energy reactor. Yeah, that branched spark plot point is about to get very relevant.

Dentists are the worst, even in space.

And that’s the end of issue #3.

[flourish--and--blotts]

Mini-Fic 8

part 8 / god knows how many Draco Malfoy x (probably Hufflepuff) Reader warnings: language words: 1687 - 7380 so far part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 last | next

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You sat down to breakfast feeling triumphant in your conviction. You are going to talk to Malfoy, you are going to get some answers, and today will be the day to do it. But until then… breakfast. The tables before you filled with food, and though this happens quite literally every morning, you were especially delighted today. The Great Hall was full of boisterous chatter and the many clinks and clunks of dishes versus silverware. It was a most wonderful commotion, within which you settled into good conversations with good friends. All the while, though, keeping a wayward eye on the Slytherin table. You would need to catch him alone if you could. 

The minutes passed and you watched the day begin as people left, books clutched to their chest for yet another day of study and work. Others were clearly prepared to enjoy the final day of the weekend, having loosened their ties and put on winter clothes. Draco’s crew got up to leave, though he stayed behind rather conveniently. It wasn’t long before your own friends decided to leave, and you followed. But not for long.  You put on your best innocent face and lied, “Oh, I think I forgot a book. I’ll catch you guys later.”  After being your friend for ages, Olive and Anemone did not think it at all odd for you to forget something and so accepted the fib readily. You doubled back to the Great Hall, but before you could get there, someone grabbed you by the arm, nearly running into you. It was, to your surprise, Draco Malfoy himself.  He leant down and murmured, “We need to talk.”  You responded in kind, whispering, “Good, because I need to talk to you, too.”  His hand was still on your left arm, clutched so tight that it was beginning to hurt. The look in his eyes was fierce and it made you want to take quite a few steps back.  “Library. 10 o’clock.” He released you and disappeared down the hall, leaving no opportunity to respond. Addled, but undaunted, you checked your watch while walking back to the Hufflepuff dorms. You had half an hour until your meeting. 

You spent some of that half-hour coming up with a good excuse for your friends, who did not seem at all convinced. Then you went on to the courtyard to collect your thoughts. It was, for the most part, deserted, due to winter’s reign newly cast upon the castle. Most people were spending a lovely Sunday morning keeping warm by a crackling fire or playing in the snow outside, but not in the enclosed courtyard, which contained room only for pathways between corridors, and a few trees and benches. So this was where you sat, observing the subtle beauty of a scene enrobed in white. The spindly arms of a tree, once so green, were now simply trestles supporting the soft weight of snowflakes. The landscape was so clearly in service to the season, facilitating its delicate charms and whimsy. It is so serene and still, the frosted-over, the cold-hearted. Winter at its finest is both hauntingly powerful and immensely beautiful. And thus you felt prepared for your meeting with Draco, himself coming from a world of coldness and stony silence. 

You felt the return of warmth biting at your cheeks and fingertips as you entered the library. A cursory glance at the tables proved fruitless. Many were filled, but none by him. It was best, anyways, to find somewhere more secluded. And while looking for such a spot, you found Draco himself, sitting alone in an empty corner, turning the pages of an old book much too fast to actually be reading it. He looked up as you approached, and motioned to the chair across from him. You obliged, settling into the seat with some discomfort under his judgmental gaze, placing your hands in your lap and sitting up straight against the back of the chair. Draco, by contrast, looked entirely comfortable with confrontation, with his hands clasped and elbows resting casually on the table between you. Regardless of your deliberation before coming here, his ease unnerved you.  “I have questions,” he began.  “So do I.”  He looked away, allowing a moment of silence to pass before continuing, “What do you think of me?”  “Oh boy…” you whispered, and leaned back further, if at all possible, to contemplate. “I think that you are… complicated.”  He was, somehow, entirely poker-faced, “So’s everyone.”  “Well... I thought you were a bully, unrelenting, sadistic, and needlessly.. mean. But now I don’t know.”  “Hm.”  He started asking something else, but you interrupted, “My turn. What were you doing downstairs during dinner on Friday?”  “I believe I already answered this.” His words were accompanied by a glare.  “That was hardly an answer, ‘Maybe I was’, now I just have more questions!” you blushed slightly, realizing how loud you had gotten, and so lowered your voice, “First off, why? Why were you there? Why did you stop? Why did you give me that look? Why have you been entirely mum for the past week? And what do your weird glances mean?”  He put his arms down and crossed them on the table.  “I was there to talk. To you.”  He squirmed a little and you could tell that you were getting somewhere.  “What about? Why?”  “I’m sorry, okay?! I actually, genuinely, feel bad about tripping you on the stairs!”  “Come again?” His eyes flared with something, irritation or anger. Or perhaps something else: defensiveness, shame.  “You’re not the only one who’s surprised!”  So that’s it, he was sorry.  He explained further, “When you fell, I did find it funny. I saw the look of ‘Oh shit, I’m falling’ dawn on your face and I found it hysterical. I got high-fives as we walked past and they felt well-deserved. I honestly didn’t expect you, of all people, to get that angry about it.”  He paused for a while here, and you felt that sympathy begin seeping in once again.  “People insult my parents all the time. And I thought they were wrong. It made me feel pride when they were wrong. Pride for knowing the truth and for being right. My responses always came from a place of anger and protection. But then, you- you weren’t wrong. And I didn’t feel angry or protective.” He paused again, before continuing quieter, “I said that I could make your life a living hell, and you said ‘as if you don’t already.’ I didn’t realize what you had said until a few seconds later and then suddenly I felt bad. I didn’t know why, but I just couldn’t look at the odd way you held your leg and the contempt on your face and so I turned and left.”  Realizing that what you said had hurt him, you suddenly didn’t feel so good about it anymore, “I- I didn’t know what I was saying. I don’t know your parents. I don’t know your family.”  “So what?” he was completely unfazed.  “But I didn’t- I don’t- I was just reading between the lines.”  “And you were right.”  “I was..” it was half statement, half question.   There was loathing in his eyes, but it wasn’t for you.  “To the world, I am Lucius Malfoy’s perfect son. A Slytherin, a leader, who shares his opinions on everything and represents him perfectly, his spitting image. But you should hear what he says when people aren’t listening.”  He seemed to want to stop talking after that, looking incredibly tense and scornful.  It dawned on you why he had felt remorse all of a sudden, “So you realized that you were becoming just like him, but also that you didn’t want to be.” In response, his expression became melancholic. “You realized that what he makes you feel is what you make other people feel.”  His next words were barely above a whisper, “Yes. Exactly.”  There was a long, long stretch of silence, tired, sad silence, before he spoke again.  “(y/n)?”  “Yes?”  “What do you think of me?”  His question made perfect sense now. “You aren’t like him. That fact that you’re this conflicted proves that. But I think that you don’t know yourself, and how can I tell you who you are if you don’t know?”  He leaned back and slumped down in his chair, the emotional effort of this conversation having made him physically tired. He also seemed to be lost in his head, thinking but being unable to process. A few beats passed, and then a few more. You stood up and started walking away, but paused next to him for a moment, not knowing what to say. Then as that moment ended and you started to leave, his hand caught your arm and you turned back immediately.  He met your eyes and locked onto them before uttering, “I’m sorry.”  You reached for his hand and held it. Part of you felt satisfaction for his sorrow, that he was finally beginning to understand the effects of what he had done, what he had been doing for years. Another part of you pushed that away, reminding you that revenge, though sweet, is simply fighting fire with fire. You could see how thankful he was, and how honest, and meeting that with hate would do harm, not good.  “Thank you.” You smiled and held his hand tighter, which he responded to by holding on tighter as well before letting go.  That conversation should have left you contemplating, analyzing, but your mind was curiously blank. It was hard to focus on what he had done because that wasn’t who he was. Instead, you found yourself wanting to talk with him more and get to know him better. You couldn’t dread the next time you passed him in the halls or caught his eye, you could only feel anticipation.  But that feeling sank and your stomach twisted when you reached the library’s doors only to find Olive and Anemone bursting with expressions of triumph.  Olive spoke first, “You just met with Draco Malfoy-” “What? No! Of course I didn’t.”  “-and we would like to know why.” 

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Ancient Soul

Time Travel, Quirkless, Feudal Japan AU

“Your soul does not belong here.” Those were words you never thought that you would hear. Now, thrown into the past in feudal Japan, you must find a way to survive, all while struggling to avoid the growing feelings for one hot-headed war general. War, romance, death and love drive you forward, to find the place where your soul truly belongs.

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Want to start from be beginning? Check the Ancient Soul tag. New chapters released every Wednesday as long as schedule permits.

Genre: Romance / Angst Story Rating: Explicit | Adult Themes, Sex, Death, Depictions of Violence, Alcohol

Chapter 9: Soft On Him

Chapter Rating: Teen | Cursing Words:  2455

Bakugou’s entire section of his army, including Tsuyu, was gone for nearly a month and a half, leaving you to fret and worry over what you had told him. Although he said he would listen to you, there was never a true confirmation that he really did change his plan. All you could do was hope that he had, that they would come out of their battle as successful as the history books said. You spilled all your worries through the weeks to your little fish friend Sushi, who listened with a continuously gaping mouth and blank stare. The creature always stuck around right at the edge of the pond when you came to sit, making you curious as to if he truly did understand what you were doing there. He was just a simple Koi fish, completely white with not a speck of color anywhere on him. 

Although you knew your assigned guards were listening, you couldn’t help but verbally express your worries to the fish. Just getting it all out was enough to calm you, and often you talked through your problems with yourself to find solutions. It was nice, and you always thanked him for his time when you decided to return to your room or walk elsewhere. 

At the one month and two weeks mark, you had just finished your time in the garden, and you were casually walking when you heard it. The familiar voice of your guide, calling to you from behind. 

Turning to face her, you smiled at Tsuyu as she approached, still dressed in her war attire that you had first met her in. You assumed they had just returned, which was only confirmed by how tired she looked as she stopped before you. “Hello, Tsu! I’m so glad to see you made it back okay! How long have you been back?” 

“A while,” Tsuyu responded, working to untie one of the hard pieces of armor she had on her arm. “I guess you wouldn’t know from this far into the palace. Your company has been requested, however, so I’ve come to fetch you.” 

“Huh? Is everything okay?” You followed her as she began to walk in the direction she had originally come, her hair bouncing as she walked. 

“Everything is just fine, Miss. But I cannot discuss it, Bakugou wishes to in private.” 

If your stomach wasn’t in knots before, it certainly was now. In fact, you felt like your entire throat was near closing off. You were shocked that just mentioning being alone with him made you so nervous you considered taking off and hiding somewhere where they would have a very hard time finding you. It didn’t help that you were anxious about the results of the ambush, if it had gone how you predicted or if he even listened to you in the first place. 

Eventually, the two of you reached an area of the stables and fenced off area for the horses, and you spotted the subject of your anxiety almost instantly. Bakugou was standing out in some random spot in the fenced in section, watching his young palomino horse trot about. A bit confused, you looked down at Tsuyu. “Uhm, what is he doing?” 

“After a battle of any kind, when we return home, he often likes to be alone like this to clear his mind. This was also that mares first time out in a real battle, so I believe he’s watching her for any sign of unknown injury or distress.” 

“He… wants to talk to me out there? With a horse running around us?” 

“Yes.” Tsuyu looked at you like the request was the most common place thing to ever happen, so you decided not to make a fuss about it, even though it did seem a bit ridiculous. 

Approaching the fence, you looked down at her. “Do I just… go in-” 

You were interrupted as Tsuyu gave a whistle, gaining Bakugou’s attention. Without a word, he pointed to an area further down the fence, which upon inspection, was clearly a gate. Bidding Tsuyu goodbye for the moment, you entered the area through the gate, being sure to shut and secure it behind you. 

“Hurry up, Demon!” You heard Bakugou snap at you, making you quickly scurry over to him. Giving a bow, you waited for his approval before standing up straight, gazing up at him curiously. 

“You wanted to see me?” 

“You were right.” His words were quite snappy, though he spoke with an uncharacteristic softness. As his horse approached him, she eyed you with obvious reluctance, though seemed calmed when Bakugou gave her strong neck a few pats. “Your strategy or… prediction. It was right.” 

“So you won? Did anyone get badly hurt?” 

“We did win. But we lost many troops. No one you know by name.” Bakugou turned his gaze to the horse, giving a few soft clicks to calm her. You were unsure why, but his calm demeanor and gentle noises to the horse brought a heat to your cheeks. His praise only made it worse, and you didn’t really know what to expect from all this. 

“I’m glad,” you started, taking a half a step closer. “Did you tell Lord Yagi?” 

“I told him before we left what you had said. He did admit that there was no way you could have known anything about the enemies side of that ambush. And that your… input was of great value.” He looked back down at you again as you moved, and you caught his eyes wandering your form for just a moment. “He’s still skeptical, as expected. And in all honesty, so am I. I can’t tell if it’s luck that’s getting you by, or if you really are just that good of a liar. So, from now on, until I can tell a difference, you are going to meet with me to go over strategies before and after I present it. To see if you truly have a ‘power’ of some sort.” 

You gave a timid nod. “Yes, of course… But I may not be able to do it for… every battle. The more impact, the more I can see.” You had to make up a reasoning behind your inability to remember some of the smaller and insignificant skirmishes, and you hoped this would work. “Sometimes things don’t come to me. I cannot be held accountable for that.” 

“If you have no input on some things, then so be it. But I except your best attempts, Demon.” 

“I feel like I’ve proved how willing I am to cooperate and support you…” 

“You have. That is why I am easing up on your restrictions. And I’ll provide you with more entertainment resources so you aren’t so… bored, is what you had said?” The snarky smirk on his lips made your cheeks flush, though you quickly nodded. 

In truth, you were unsure exactly what to feel. You were happy that it had worked out, and yet you were still technically a prisoner, untrusted and constantly watched. Still, this would be an improvement, and perhaps even a chance to get closer to him. You weren’t sure why your heart fluttered so violently any time you laid eyes on him. It was like something inside you was hopelessly drawn to him, and for a moment, you wondered if he felt the same thing. In your mind, you pictured it like magnets, and one day you would surely collide if given the chance. 

“Thank you,” Pushing through the embarrassment, you smiled up at him, your heart nearly skipping a beat as his stern expression faltered for just a split second. “I don’t think I said that to you directly. I assume you got that from the reports of me talking to Sushi.” 

“The stupid fish? Yes.” Bakugou turned more to face the horse, as if looking at you frustrated him. “I’ve learned a lot about you from those reports. In particular, you seem to talk a lot about your family.” 

At the mention of such a sensitive subject, your emotions instantly flared, making your throat constrict and a burning rise up into your eyes. “Yes, I… I do.” It was impossible to control the wavering of your voice, turning your gaze down to look at his feet. “I think about them all the time and I wonder if… they are still thinking about me, too.” 

“I would allow you to send them a letter… if you so wished.” 

Feeling your chest tighten, you looked up at him in shock, very surprised to hear such a suggestion come out of his mouth. Seeming a bit bashful about it himself, he didn’t look down at you, though instead continued to pet his horse while he awaited your response. Sniffling, you quickly reached up and wiped the tears from your face, unable to resist the small smile that crossed your lips. 

“That’s… very kind of you. But there is no point in doing that. I feel like it may be better to just let them get over me than to give them any hope… Thank you, though. I think you’re much nicer than this persona you strut around with.” A sly smirk crossed your lips as the tips of his ears flushed, holding back giggles as he glared down at you. 

“Shut up,” Bakugou barked, returning to his previously mentioned persona. “You barely even know me! I was just offering as a payback for helping us!”

“Mhmm, sure, sure.” Smile never leaving your lips, you took a few steps closer to his horse, looking her over. “May I?” 

“Tch, do what you want.” Bakugou, even though he was obviously embarrassed, watched you closely as you softly placed a hand on the pale hair of the mares neck. With a gentle touch, you ran your hand along her strong body, walking with it until you were standing at her side. 

“She’s beautiful. She looks almost exactly like her mother.” You chanced a quick glance at him, glad to see his expression not falter at the mention of his fallen horse. “Except for that she has the black running up her back leg here.” 

Bakugou walked around the other side of the horse, running his hand along her back and displacing a bit of dust. “She’s filthy right now. But yes, she is a wonderful horse. Much like her mother.” 

“She did well out in battle?”

“Of course she did. She was bred from our two strongest war horses, my Taiyō and Yonaka. She’s still young, but Higure will be magnificent in time.” 

“Ooh, so that’s where that little splash of black comes from. How cute! She seems very fond of you.” Smiling up at him, you felt a heat return to your cheeks, finding the way he looked down at you to be so… soft. It was obvious to you that there was something on his mind besides the horse, but there was still something preventing him from speaking it. You wanted to ask, to confess that you felt this ridiculous connection to him and you wondered if he felt it, too. But you couldn’t. All you could do was take a step back as Bakugou gave a small pat to the horses’ rump to send her off, both of you watching as she trotted away towards the stables. 

With a sigh, Bakugou turned his gaze back down to you. “It is difficult for me to admit that my strategies were incorrect or ineffective. I’ve studied most of my life to perfect my skills, and yet… I still have times where I’m wrong and that angers me. This year in particular seems to be having it’s way with me. Despite my troubles, I’ve decided to trust you. I hope that won’t be another mistake.” 

Feeling your stomach bubble with anxiety, you shook your head, taking a few steps closer to him. “Don’t think that way. I will do everything I can to help you… Though it’s more than just wanting to preserve my life in any way. I… want to. I want to help you.” 

“Good. Enough of this.” He waved his hand at you in sudden annoyance, beginning to make his way towards the stables as well. “I will put Higure away and retire for the evening. Tomorrow we will both meet with Lord Yagi to discuss your prediction and the results of the ambush. I recommend you prepare yourself and sleep well.” 

Smiling, you watched him walk away. “Goodnight to you, too!” 

His only answer was a quick glance over his shoulder, before he vanished inside a building along with his horse. Your heart and spirits lifted from the pleasant conversation, you gave a soft sigh in adoration before heading out the way you came, finding Tsuyu dressed back in her more casual clothing at the entrance to the palace. She must have noticed the unconscious dreamy look on your face, as she gazed up at you curiously. 

“Are you okay, Miss?” 

“I’m just fine, Tsuyu. That went… much better than what I expected.” 

Smile crossing her lips, Tsuyu nodded, beginning to lead you back into the castle. “If I’m incorrect, than please let me know, but I think that you may be a little bit soft for him.” 

“W-what?” The heat that rushed to your face was more severe than anything you had experienced that day, quickly bringing your hands up to cover your face. “Tsu, please, that just isn’t true! He’s just-- I’m just--” 

“Shh, miss, it’s quite alright!” Tsuyu laughed, smiling up at you. “There is nothing to be upset about. Bakugou actually has a very hard time connecting with people, so I’m glad to see that you both get along decently well.” 

“Y-yeah…” Lowering your hands, you hugged yourself tightly, keeping your embarrassed gaze locked on the ground. “Even though he can be quite mean, I… like him. There’s more to him than what he wants to show.” 

“I think that having read my reports on you has helped him feel more comfortable around you. Otherwise, I don’t think it would be like this. But either way, I am glad!” 

Swallowing the lump that had groan in your throat, you nodded, the vision of his soft expression locked in your mind. So handsome, powerful, loyal and snarky. At this point, you knew you officially had a crush on the gruffy hotheaded man, and now that you were told you would be spending more time around him, you had a feeling it was only going to grow more intense. 

Only time would tell if that would be a positive experience. For now, all you could do is think of him, with imaginary pink hearts fluttering about your face.

[ends-of-the-wayward-storm]

Frozen--Book 1--Chances

Chapter 9--“Thanks For Not Letting Me Get Killed”

_________

Summary

Hans is granted a second chance by a criminal known as the Mystery, someone people have only heard rumors about. How and why the Mystery decided to go out of his way to do this was beyond Hans, and frankly it bothered him. But once the Mystery’s plan goes into action, it’s only a matter of time before something bigger begins to develop.

(AO3 version) (Prologue)

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After they had eaten from their small food supply, Hans and the Mystery followed another branch of the river down a second path. The Mystery had to admit, he was looking forward to where this would lead. And as long as they didn’t go anywhere near “that path” he was fine.

The river eventually turned away, and the duo came across another shore. This one was covered in a layer of grass, much like the previous one. But unlike the previous one, moss covered spots of the trees. And the water looked dark.

Hans frowned as he studied the area more, but the Mystery was already making for the water. And Hans had no choice but to follow.

In the water, it wasn’t at all murky like he had assumed. And it wasn’t salty, so that was a welcome change.

A small handful of minutes passed before the vegetation changed. Both of them swam to the surface, and they were greeted with a thick forest and a darkened sky. Caution slowly grew within them as they swam out of the pond, and the Mystery was getting a nagging sense of familiarity.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” Hans asked.

The Mystery studied their surroundings before shrugging.

Finding two decently sized sticks, the prince rubbed them together until they were both alight. He then handed one of them to the Mystery before setting off.

They could find anything out here, wherever “here” was. Hans flipped through his memory for anything that could possibly give an identity to their location. The vegetation wasn’t much to go on, and the only wildlife around was crickets. If they were lucky, they might find someone else out here, and maybe that someone would be a native.

A branch cracked above them, forcing them to stop. They scanned the treetops for anything out of the ordinary, but it was becoming too dark to see that far up. The Mystery held his breath as the two of them scanned their surroundings.

A bush rustled to Hans’s left.

A twig snapped to the Mystery’s right.

Then silence.

Hans’s hand drifted to his hilt, and he scanned the area for a figure in the shadows.

Growling crept up behind them, and they slowly turned around. Raising his torch higher, the Mystery picked out steely eyes multiplying by the second.

One of the creatures dared to step closer to the light. A shadowy paw was followed by a leg, and soon the rest of it made it clear what they were up against.

“Run!” Hans urged.

The creatures barked and howled as the duo practically sprinted blindly through the woods. Howling brought Hans’s attention to his left, where more of the creatures were running after them.

One of them lunged for the Mystery, and he swung his torch at it to drive it away. But another tackled him down from behind. A howling screech sounded in his ear, and the weight was suddenly lifted off of him. He looked up at Hans glancing down at him with sword in hand, and the Mystery scrambled to his feet.

Something bright flickered in the corner of his eye, and the Mystery spotted a small fire beginning to spread from his fallen torch. Grabbing fistfuls of dirt, he threw it onto the fire until there was nothing left.

Hans thrust his torch toward a creature and sliced at another, making it dissipate into the air. The creatures felt solid, and yet they appeared as though they were mere phantoms. These had to have been conjured by magic. And if that was true, then their conjurer was most likely dangerous.

One of the creatures tugged on the Mystery’s cloak, and he immediately kicked it away. Another accompanied by a third forced him back toward the trees. Cracking his whip, he broke through the scuffle only for claws to tear across his leg. A cry was bit short, bringing Hans’s attention to the Mystery briefly.

A set of teeth bit into Hans’s torch arm, and he slammed the pommel of his sword onto the creature’s head until it released. Another tackled him to the ground, and he held its jaws back with his sword. Something warm was very close to his leg, and it was nicking him. He spotted the orange glow of fire and moved his leg as best as he could, but a set of teeth nearly nipping his nose forced him to stare right into the creature’s eyes.

The creature cried out as a whip wrapped around its torso and yanked it off of Hans. The prince’s next immediate instinct was to get as far away from the small fire as possible. He expected to feel a searing pain in his calf, so much so that he almost did feel it. But instead his boot was just scorched, and all he felt was an oddly comfortable warmth.

No time to think about that, Hans thought.

He threw dirt onto the fire until it was out, and he grabbed his sword to swing at the first bark he heard. Now that they were in complete darkness, it was hard to see. Not to mention he couldn’t even see the Mystery since his clothes were so dark.

If they were going to survive this, they needed to work together.

“Head for the middle!” Hans ordered.

The Mystery warded off another creature and darted for the spot only to be cut off. Claws raked across his whip arm, making him drop his weapon. Grimacing, he fished for his knife and brandished it toward the creatures. Hans picked out the Mystery’s silhouette as well as the eyes of the beasts and expertly slashed at the creatures.

Blindly the Mystery felt the ground for his whip. His hand brushed up against the handle (or at least he hoped it was the handle and not a snake), and he snatched it up before stashing his knife away.

A hand grabbed his wrist and yanked him out of range of a set of jaws. Reflexively he jerked his wrist free.

“We’re outnumbered. We can’t fight them all!” Hans pointed out.

Oh. That hand was him, the Mystery thought.

Stabbing a creature coming close to Hans, the Mystery grabbed Hans’s wrist to pull him along. The redhead then yanked his own wrist free and shot the Mystery a curt look.

“There has to be somewhere we can lose them,” Hans said.

The Mystery growled. They were running blind! How could they see anything?!

He risked lashing his whip out at one of the creatures that was close to him. They would probably die out here. But then again, he’s survived for this long. Maybe he could keep going.

Hans once again grasped the Mystery’s wrist and jerked him to the side. They dropped to the ground and pressed themselves up against what felt like a boulder. His grip still remained as the creatures ran past them. But none of them dared to move.

That was too easy. There was no way they would just keep going, the Mystery thought.

They waited in silence for what felt like ages. Nothing of those creatures was heard, not even their scuffling.

Finally, the duo breathed a sigh of relief, and Hans released his hold on the Mystery.

“We should be safe for now,” Hans said lowly.

The Mystery peeked around the boulder for a few moments before slowly standing up. Hans followed suit, and the duo carefully walked backwards only to tumble down a hill. Hans slammed into a tree, and the Mystery kept going for a few moments before coming to a stop.

Groaning, the Mystery picked himself up and dusted himself, wincing at the slashes on his right hand opening further. Yeah that’s enough action for today.

_________

Hans blew on the newborn flames until they grew, and he sat back against the wall of the small cave they had found. He watched the Mystery secure his cravat around his right arm as best as he could, the magenta a stark contrast against the navy blue of the thief’s clothes.

Hans removed his jacket and carefully rolled up the sleeve to his shirt. He couldn’t help wincing at the bite marks. They were so red, and frankly he didn’t want to burn the disgusting image into his mind.

Pulling out a handkerchief, Hans was about to begin wrapping when movement brought his attention to the Mystery coming to closer. The thief held a hand out, and Hans’s immediate response was to deny his help. He could handle himself. He always did.

But when he made eye contact, there was a genuine look to the Mystery’s eyes that he didn’t recall ever seeing before.

Hans handed the handkerchief to the Mystery, and the thief carefully went to work.

“. . . Thanks for . . . not letting me get killed.”

The prince looked to the Mystery. A feminine voice. “. . . You’re welcome.”

Silence again.

“I should thank you for helping me also.”

“You’re welcome.” The Mystery secured the handkerchief. “You got everything else?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Hans ripped off a piece of his tailcoat. “I wasn’t expecting you to speak.”

“Surprised?”

“Somewhat.” He handed the Mystery another handkerchief, to which the latter glanced to before taking it for her leg.

“Once we get back we’ll use the gauze. Then you can have this thing back.” The Mystery held up the arm bearing the cravat.

“Of course.”

The two settled into silence, and the Mystery picked at the berries they had managed to find.

“Do you have a name?”

The Mystery thought about it. “. . . Courtney. And I’m not lying.”

“Your parents?”

“Next question.” Her tone was harsh, and a frown tugged at Hans’s lips.

“Do you have siblings?”

“No.”

He debated on asking for her age, but that would’ve been rude. Even though he considered her rude at times.

“Anything else?”

Hans mused for a few moments. “. . . I would like that second chance.”

“It’s not going to be easy.”

“I know.”

“Good. Now get some sleep. I’m taking first watch.”

“I think I should be the one taking first watch.”

“I’ll wake you when it’s your shift. Now go to sleep.”

The two stared each other down for a few moments before Hans ultimately sighed and made himself comfortable.

_________

(Prologue) (Next chapter) (Previous chapter)

[yaboymercury]

Ripping 9 to 5 - Office duo (Part 2)

(Re upload since original was flagged for the pic)

The next morning Luke was on his way up the elevator to his floor desperately trying to hold his gas in which was hard especially after his double egg omelette he treated himself to for breakfast. But he was saving it all for his opportunity.

Squirming in his office chair Luke waited impatiently for Liam’s papers to arrive so he could deliver them for the morning briefing. He wondered if his overly tight trousers and shirt which was unbuttoned to a potentially unprofessional degree would be too much but it was too late to change anything by this point. When the papers finally arrived he grabbed them quickly and began carefully walking into the bosses office not wanting to lose any control over his rectum.

As he shuffled over to Liam’s desk he looked at him through his glasses with sheepish eyes obviously still embaressed about his fart. “Hey Liam how you doing this morning?” As Liam began to reply with a long list of things and a couple apologies for the day before Luke ignored him lining himself up for attack. With Liam still talking he bent over to drop of the papers on a side table which he knew meant his ass was close to his cute face.

Maybe with a slightly over acted “Oh damn” Liam winced and let himself cut one.

FRAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPP

It was one of his best and he let out a sigh from the relief but was worried that this plan may have backfired so he looked back to see how his boss had reacted.

The wall of Liam’s eggy stench had obviously hit Liam as his eyes were watering and he was coughing a little but he was smiling. Luke had pulled it off so he began his over practiced apology.

“Damn Liam I’m sorry my stink must have hit you right in the damn face, I’m so sorry can I make it up to you at all” He stared at Liam who was obviously still gathering his thoughts and recovering from the gas.

“Yikes Luke that was a pretty strong one, part of me is impressed, but damn that’s bad I wouldn’t expect a smell like that from a guy… as well… I don’t know… as cute as you?”

Luke chuckled a but at this, it was obvious Liam hadn’t flirted in a while, but the fact that he was flirting at all made Luke need to sit down. “Are you sure you’re okay boss I know my gas stinks, but I guess I surprised you, to be honest I’m actually a very gassy person” He looked up again to his boss who was now smiling sitting opposite him.

“I understand you completely, if I’m honest it’s what Jesse hated most about me.” He looked a little bittersweet but Luke didn’t want to sour his mood.

Putting his hand over Liam’s on the desk he gave him a understanding smile. “Oh I get that completely, want to tell me about it?” And taking a risk he leaning to the side on his chair.

Prrrrrrrflt

He laughed a bit at how casual he was being with his eggy gas which was now clouding the area around them. And luckily it made Liam laugh and Luke couldn’t tell but maybe even take a subtle sniff.

“Ah good one…” and he leaned over grinning.

Frrrrrrlppp

Luke was impressed at how easily his boss could just summon his gas but Liam’s stench mixing with his own was beginning to intoxicate them both.

“But yeah, Jesse was always so uptight, I’ve always liked having fun with my gas but he was never down for it and always made me hold it in.”

“Oh and what do you mean by having fun?” Luke raised his eyebrows playing with the potentially sexual interpretation of Liam’s sentence.

Liam gave Luke a dangerously sexual look from over the desk and stood up from his chair and looked down at Luke with a grin “I’m assuming you want to find out?”

Luke smiled back up at him. This was it, he could tell they were both on the same page. “Why don’t you show me then.” He got up as well went to lock the office door. As he walked over to the door to lock it he looked behind him to see that Liam was following him. Liam slipped his arms over Luke’s shoulders from behind him massaging his body lightly and grinding on his ass.

Practically melting into Liam, Luke decided to take the opportunity of their position.

PHRRRRRRRLP

His eggy scent blasted against Liam’s crotch and Luke was happy to feel a slight reaction from him.

“I’m assuming this was the kind of fun you were talking about” The sensual receptionist turned around in Liam’s arms and they held eachother looking into eachothers eyes.

Liam learnt in his mouth almost touching Luke’s. “Well my kind of fun is a bit more powerful you see…” and he pulled away from Luke turned around and pushed him back into the door with his ass. Liam began madly gyrating against Luke’s growing bulge while Luke still recovered from the shock. Until he paused.

PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAPPPPPPPPT

Liam looked around to join Luke’s stare knowing the affect that his meaty stench was having on Luke.

The two men were basting in eachothers rancid pheremones turning the office into a toxic gas chamber. The atmosphere relieved the two of any tension and secrets they held from eachother for the years they had been close and let them enjoy eachother in their true gassy sexual nature.

Luke knew what he wanted to do and how he wanted to take control. He thrusted Liam off of him and swiftly grabbed his boss by the tie and lead him over to one of the sofa’s.

While lying down over the arm of one of the sofa’s making sure his ass was in full view he looked back at Liam who was hungrily salivating at the sight of his butt.

“Now I’ve booked you in for an appointment, the client is ready to see you.” Luke made sure his boss would get the message by shaking his ass in his direction.

Without any words Liam went face first into Luke’s ass and began rubbing, massaging, licking his ass appreciating it in all its glory even through his tight work trousers.

“I’ve heard this client has a lot to talk to you about actually…” Luke said with a grin down at the man making a stain on his ass crack.

FRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAARP

RRRRRRRRRRRUUUUPP

PRRRRRAPPPPPPPPPPPPPT

The gas squeezed out of Luke’s ass making a raucous amount of noise almost as a warning towards the power of its odour. Luke’s sensual scent enveloped them both but the majority went into Liam’s respitory system further infatuating him with the man attached to the ass he was grabbing at.

Finally having gotten his fix of Luke’s ass, Liam managed to pull himself away and went to meet Luke’s face pulling him up into kiss making sure the stink now ingrained on his face was rubbed back against Luke.

“Now Luke I think it’s time I let you off on a lunch break.” Liam whispered as he pulled away from Luke once again. He then lay down on an opposite sofa looking at Luke invitingly. He began slowly freeing his ass from the tight embrace of his trousers as it bubbled out from its cage, and he slowly continued to free the cheeks from his boxers as well. “I hope you can handle all your meal, it might be too filling for you.”

From the other sofa practically licking his lips at the sight of his bosses beautiful hairy ass and deep crack he felt like he could almost smell it’s the terrible musk of it. Prowling over to the other sofa Luke reached Liam’s amazing ass feeling it’s warm cheeks and nuzzling the crack in preparation. He felt like he could say a speech on how much he had lusted over his bosses buns but the closer he got the less he could resist.

PRFFFFFTTTT

The rotten gust of air blasted Luke’s hair back but the peek he got of Liam’s hole pushing it out pushed Luke over the edge. He dove in, his face getting engulfed in globes of his bosses butt and started aggressively tonguing his stinking hole.

PRAAAAAAAAAFFFFFT

FRAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRP

RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPT

Going directly into Luke’s hungry mouth and burning nostrils, the meaty stench of Liam’s toxic ass overcame Luke’s senses forcing him into a state of ecstasy.

PHHHHHHHRAP

BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRTTT

PUUUUUUUUUURT

Luke was getting so immensely turned on that his penis was almost tearing the seams of his trousers and Liam seemed to be equally erect as he was propping himself up with his member. The last bursts of rotten stench made Luke need release badly. Tearing his face out of Liam’s sweaty ass he put his dick in position.

Liam turned himself around so he could look at Luke.

“Well go ahead then…” and he punctuated his sentence with:

FRRRRRRRSSSHHHH

The hit gust of air opened up Liam’s hole inviting Luke. So of course Luke obliged.

As Luke thrusted ryhthmically Liam began moaning partly from the pleasure he was getting from Luke and partly from all the gas which was being stirred but held back by Luke’s cock.

Luke was preoccupied with wrecking Liam but he was beginning to feel a need for release himself. As he pushed himself into Liam he began pushing out bursts of farts.

“Ahhh you have no idea how long I’ve been meaning to do this for..”

FRRRLP

“And it’s even better that we can do it with our farts as well..”

PRLLLLT

“I might need to move my desk in here you know..”

FFFFRP

“Just so I can bang you against it every morning..”

BRRRAP

“And I’m sure a morning face fart will be much more refreshing than a cup of coffee..”

FRAARP

“Well we have all the time in the world to find out…”

BRRRRRRRRRRRRAPT

With his last thrust and release of gas Luke released inside of Liam who was too busy moaning to reply to Luke. With Luke finished he slowed down and let Liam recover himself but he had not.yet released. Between pants the stinky business man got out:

“Uh Luke get out of me I need to let something out..”

Luke could feel the pressure surrounding his dick and slowly let himself out.

FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPT

The winds practically knocked Luke over to the other side of the sofa and also got his cum sprayed out back over him. He grew lightheaded at the power of Liam’s rotted stench clouding him. While laughing at the power of his gas Liam shot his ropes over Luke.

Collapsing into eachother both men were a mess.

It was lucky that the two could agree to gas out the laundromat down the street to get some more privacy while their clothes got a clean.