#above ordinary music group

[purinfelix]

new recruit ₊˚⊹ - charles leclerc

summary: the age-old tradition of Top Gun pilots spending the night before a mission at the local bar is interrupted by a new, boyishly charming, face w/c: 1.8k

taglist: @zowifi @musicallisto

a/n: y'all knew it was coming .. as soon as he dropped these pics i knew what i had to do (consider this a semi-ode to my top gun phase when maverick first came out)

The Hard Deck Bar never changes, and neither do its visitors. It's a fact you rely on comfortably whenever you get the call to return to the beachside town you've learned to call home after years of missions there. You push through the heavy wooden doors, sighing happily as you're welcomed by the sound of laughter and music as the evening comes alive - all against the backdrop of the golden sunset.

"Dice, is that you?" You whip your head around at the sound of your call sign - a gift to you from your lieutenant, an acknowledgement of your risky tendencies in the air. You break into a warm smile as you make eye contact with Phoenix - one of the only other female pilots on the team to whom you've grown close.

"You look well," you reply as you walk over to where she and several others stand.

Surrounding the pool table you're greeted with several familiar faces, some newer than others but all smiling regardless. You had gotten to know the other Top Gun pilots fairly well as one of the most experienced amongst the group, and the one most often called back for missions. It had come to the point where whenever it came time to take part in the old tradition of hanging out at the bar before your first mission briefing, it felt more like a family reunion than a group of coworkers. The only thing that set you all apart from the general public was the khaki uniforms you donned, decorated with multi-coloured patches celebrating your achievements.

"Did you hear there's a new recruit?" Hangman asked, the question clearly directed to you, as he potted a pool ball.

"Oh yeah, the admiral did mention it to me when he called me in," you replied before sipping your drink.

"Reckon they'll be any good?"

"Hope so, I heard this mission's one of the hardest we'll be on," Rooster scoffed from the other side of the table.

"Agreed, especially since they're going to be my co-pilot," you sighed.

"Sounds like Chief had enough of your risky solo missions," Phoenix laughed as she took her turn to play.

You could only smile shyly as she did, finishing the last of your drink before letting your eyes scan through the rest of the bar. Music from the jukebox floated through the air, joined by the loud laughter of the bar's regulars as they drunkenly joked raucously. It was nothing out of the ordinary and worked wonders in calming the nerves you inevitably felt brewing about the responsibilities you'd have to step up to tomorrow.

The bell above the doors tinkles again, announcing the arrival of yet another customer, but this one in particular catches your eye. Not because of his messy brown hair or the boyish air surrounding him - but because you've never seen him here before. You lean over to elbow Phoenix before nodding in his direction, and she turns to look at him too.

"Newbie?" she asks, and you nod before hopping off of the stool you've perched yourself on and waltzing over to where he's leaning against the bar.

You watch as his round eyes scan the menu intently, eyelashes batting as he squints to try and get a better look - it's almost endearing how lost he looks. Shooting the bartender Penny a sly smile, alerting her immediately of your plans, you take the seat next to where he's standing.

"You alright there?" you ask, and he turns to you with a shocked expression.

"Is it that obvious I'm struggling?" You pick up on his accent right away, though it takes you a little longer to locate it. Regardless, you're drawn in almost immediately by the embarrassed smile that spreads across his features.

"Just order your usual, Penny makes everything taste amazing anyway," you reassure him. He nods obediently, leaning over and mumbling his order. "I'm guessing you don't come here a lot?"

"Yeah, first time actually," his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck and you take note of the multiple string bracelets decorating it. What you don't notice though is the way his eyes scan over you, or more specifically, your uniform.

"Are you a soldier?"

"Close, army pilot." You tap the crest on your shirt.

"You must be good then," he smiles, pointing to your patches and it hits you that he might just be flirting with you.

"I am actually, thank you for picking up on that," you shoot back smugly, "how about you, what do you do?"

"Oh me, I'm just trying out some new things, travelling, flying lots." He nods, though the smirk toying at his lips tells you he's not telling the whole truth. You don't care enough to press on though, as you shift on your stool. You don't care enough to press on though, and at that moment his drink order slides across the bar to him.

"You haven't told me your name yet," he's the first to break the silence this time, before taking a sip of his drink. He lets out a surprised hum as if to tell you that you were right about Penny's bartending skills.

"Everyone around here calls me Dice," you reply, gesturing around to the entirety of the room. This piques his interest.

"That's an interesting name."

"Well it's not my real name it's my call sign, it's a pilot thing," you explain and he nods thoughtfully, "it's because I tend to take a lot of risks while on missions."

"Interesting," he murmurs, "but these risks must work out for you." He points to your patches again and you laugh softly.

"I guess you could say so. What about your name?"

He pauses for a bit, almost as if he's forgotten his own name. "Predistinato," he finally says.

"Predi- wh- sorry could you say that again?"

"Predistinato," he repeats, laughing a little this time.

"Is that French or something?"

"Almost, it's Italian," he explains and all you can do is nod, unaware that you're silently mouthing it back to yourself. It certainly isn't a name you'll forget any time soon.

"Well, Mr. P," you say, slipping off your stool and dusting off your hands, "it was nice meeting you and helping you out with your order.""

You're about to give up on your plan before you hear him call out to you just as you're turning around.

"Hold on, Dice," he hesitates before finishing, "how about taking another risk?"

You spin back around and the expression on his face tells you he isn't finding this any less cringey than you are. "Pardon?"

"Do you think I could get your number?"

A cold smile spreads across your face as you skip back over to the bar and lean over to catch Penny's eye. As you do she walks over to the corner of the bar the two of you are seated in, reaching up and ringing the large bell hanging above it. Immediately, the entire bar erupts into a loud commotion of roars and whistles, with people lifting up their cups towards the man sitting across from you.

You can't help but laugh upon seeing his confused expression and all you do is point to the sign hanging between two beer taps. Disrespect a lady, the navy, or put your cell phone on my bar - you buy a round.

"Woah, disrespect? That's harsh," he smiles sheepishly, but you only shrug.

"Rules are rules."

"A round, for everyone?"

"Good luck, and see you around," you nod, patting him on the shoulder with a smug expression before turning to rejoin your friends at the pool table.

"Attention on deck!"

The heavy sound of several chairs scraping the floor in unison is the only thing you hear as you and the rest of the pilots stand at attention. Standing as still as you can, you watch as Admiral Bates marches to the podium at the front of the hangar.

"Good morning, and welcome to your special training detachment." His expression is stern and you watch as his eyes scan the rows of tables. "Be seated."

"Everyone here is a Top Gun graduate, I'm sure you know each other well enough to know that's true. You may consider yourself elite, the best, but that stops now. In here, you will all be treated like equals and you must prove your excellence to make the cut."

The air is tense and no one dares to look at each other as he talks.

"Today we begin with the introduction of a new face however, I'd like you all to welcome the newest addition to this mission." The admiral gestures towards the back of the room and several heads turn to the figure standing at the back of the room, who begins walking between the aisle of tables. His steps are heavy, confident, and almost eager.

"Despite being newer, he has proved his proficiency in every aspect required of this mission and so I warn you not to underestimate him."

The figure passes your table and you physically feel your heart drop to your stomach when he does. He's facing away from you, and he looks completely different when sporting the pilot uniform instead of casual clothes - but you're sure you'd recognise that messy hair anywhere, even though it's clear he's tried his best to comb it down.

"Please welcome Charles Leclerc. Call sign: Il Predistinato."

Of course, just your luck.

"Good morning," from the front of the room and under the bright morning light he looks different, but the boyish charm he seemed surrounded by last night still lingers in the way he smiles.

"Charles, why don't you take a seat next to Dice in the front row, you'll be co-piloting with her for now." Your eyes widen as the attention is suddenly turned to you, and scoot uncomfortably in your seat as he nears you.

"You look well" he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear as he takes the seat next to you. You let out a low chuckle, not knowing what else to do other than nod a little awkwardly.

The admiral goes on talking, briefing you all on the aims of the mission, but despite your best efforts to focus you can't seem to. Not with the boy sitting next to you, the way he leans forward on the desk to listen attentively the same way he had last night at the bar, the way his deep brown hair falls onto his face as he does.

"Sorry about last night," you hear yourself whisper to him as you lean in, though he doesn't seem to be holding any grudges.

"No need to apologise," he begins, and you sit back with relief. "But next time, maybe you can pay for my drinks?"

You sigh in exasperation, as he shoots you a wink before turning back to the lesson. You could only pray he flew as smoothly as he spoke.

[oracle-of-dream]

Hotel Hookup

Summary: You're a huge Riize fan, and you're bias is Wonbin. You recently got to go to their concert and had so many amazing interactions with Wonbin. After the concert, you bump into each other in the bathroom and he gives you his autograph, along with his hotel room number...

Warnings: Male reader, Virign reader, idol Wonbin, dry humping, sub reader, dom Wonbin, corruption kink

Wordcount: 2.5k

This is a request

Walking down the street to the venue, the excitement was washing over you. The headlights of traffic, the breeze in your face, and the squeals and screams of fans as they travel with you to the same place. It was still hard to believe you managed to land tickets for the Riize concert, much less get a lucky VIP ticket.

The venue offered five random tickets to be selected for the VIP treatment, along with being able to purchase the VIP upgrade. The day you got the email that your seat was one of the lucky five, you almost slapped yourself; thinking it was a dream. The VIP treatment came with a seat upgrade, sound check, a hi-touch, and even a photo with a member.

You crossed the last street before reaching the venue; the lights shined into the night sky, and you could hear the thumbs of the speakers vibrating through your feet. The line for the VIP was almost empty, while the main entry had people lining up with at least 100 people already there. They must've camped out all day to get in line so early...

A staff member caught you taking in the view and approached you. "Are you lost? If you need, I can show you where you need to go."

You pulled out your phone and showed them your ticket.

"Oh, the VIP section is that way! You might want to hurry the sound check may start soon."

You followed the staff's directions: moving through the VIP section, rushing through the security check, and making it to your seat. The stage was so close, much closer than you could've imagined. You had a clear view of the right side of the stage, a little above the barricade. You were allowed to go to the barricade, but after hearing how vicious it gets, you decided against it.

After waiting about 10 minutes, some of the opening music started playing, and the members were lifted onto the stage from the floor. The VIP audience cheered for them as Riize went through the motions of their concert, practicing their last bits of choreography and interacting with fans as they did. Wonbin approached your side of the stage and waved toward your section, making all the girls scream and shout for his direct attention. Shyly, you smiled and waved back, cheering but not as loud as the others in your section. He smiled and walked off, but stayed around the right side of the stage.

Wonbin was even more beautiful than any of his photos. His glasses sat on his chiseled nose, his most of hair neatly tucked behind his ears with few strands sweeping onto his face, and his baggy white t-shirt that exposed his collar bone and some of his chest made him look like an ordinary guy. But you knew he was anything but that... For the rest of the sound check, Wonbin kept swinging by your section and giving love to your group.

There was a small break before the concert fully started. Some of your friends texted you asking to meet up with you. Agreeing to meet at the food court and get snacks.

After chatting with your friends, you stopped by the bathroom before heading back to your seat. A bit of a perk of being a male K-pop fan was that the men's bathroom was usually deserted compared to the huge line out of the women's room.

Just as you suspected, the bathroom was empty. You went to a stall and went about your business. Just as you finished, you heard the door open. Two people came in, a man and a woman, speaking Korean. You didn't know why, but you jumped onto the toilet seat to hide your feet.

No way someone was coming in here to hook up...

There was another bit of conversation before you heard the door shut again. Not a noise...

You stepped down from the toilet and opened the stall to see a figure with long black hair looking at himself in the mirror. He turned around to look at you. His long black hair coiled beautifully around his face. Wonbin was looking directly at you. Just the two of you in that bathroom...

"I'm sorry, I was just in here and..." You started but lost the courage to continue.

Wonbin smiled at you. "It's okay, I thought my manager checked well enough. Please, enjoy the show." He bowed slightly and walked out the door, walking away with his manager.

You washed your hands at the sink, reeling from the experience of having spoken to him. You sprinted back to your seat when you heard the crowd start cheering, signaling the start of the show. You'd have to tell your friends about meeting him later!

The concert itself was amazing. Anton's cello performance with Sohee singing a ballad, and watching Eunseok, Sungchan, and Shotaro have a dance-off made you laugh so hard. Wonbin's stage was a solo performance. He played guitar and sang, silencing the entire venue. He covered, "Attention" by Charlie Puth.

His eyes were trained on the camera in front of him, but every few words he'd glance off in the direction of the audience. One of those glances shot right at you. At first, it felt like it was a coincidence, just a lucky look, but he looked back. Again and again. After finding you in the crowd, he couldn't help himself from looking in your direction. Your face got warm at his expression, the look in his eyes.

"What are you doing to me?" He sang, looking directly at you. It felt like he was speaking to you.

Before you knew it, the song was over... The concert resumed and the audience was cheering loudly again, but you still couldn't get over Wonbin. The concert ended in a flash. Riize was giving their last goodbye, finished an encore stage, and started leaving. The staff directed the VIP section to follow them backstage to get a picture with the members. And you couldn't help but touch up your look, making sure you didn't look a mess before you got to meet them.

The boys came out of their dressing room, still wearing their outfits from the encore stage and wiping some of their sweat from performing. One by one they went through everyone. Sometimes the members chose who was going to take a picture if the fan was too overwhelmed. But when you stepped forward, Wobin immediately stepped forward for your photos, holding you by the waist while taking your phone to take it. That's when staff walked out with Riize's newest album as a surprise gift to the fans. Each member took the time to sign the albums and talk to each fan. The conversations were cut short, as the staff didn't let you speak for long, but Wonbin winked at you when he gave you your album.

"Read my message before you leave! I hope you like it!" He said as he was ushered back into the dressing room.

You followed the staff out the side door and walked to your car. Once inside you took a moment to crack open the album and find Wobin's message he left for you.

Our meeting in the bathroom was fun, let's meet again! Come to this address, my room number is 247, on floor 20. Knock three times so I know it's you. Don't keep me waiting~

-Wonbin

Your jaw was ready to come clean off your face. Wonbin wanted to meet you again!? You could hardly believe getting to meet him, much less him wanting to see you again. Not wanting to wait another moment, you put the address into your GPS and drove off to meet him.

The address led you to a fancy hotel, looking over the downtown area and not too far from the area. You nervously entered the lobby, trying to act natural so no one would stop you. You got past the front desk and got into the elevator right as someone else was getting in.

"Could you push floor 20 for me?" You asked.

The person nodded, mostly absorbed in their phone to fully acknowledge you.

You got to the twentieth floor and wandered before finding the door... Room 247. Holding your hand up to the door was harder than you expected. Your heart was in your throat, terrified that you'd get busted or get the wrong room. Before you got to knock, the door opened, and Wonbin standing in the doorway.

"Come in, quick!"

You hurried into the room and he closed it behind you. "So... Wonbin, it's so–"

Wonbin smashed his lips into yours, trying to make out with you.

Your eyes widened. You couldn't push him away, but you didn't know where to touch him either. And he must've noticed, as he took your hands and placed one on his neck and the other on his waist.

When you separated for a moment, you took your opportunity to speak. "Wait, I thought you just wanted to meet again!"

Wonbin laughed. "We can meet and fuck. Can't we?" He walked toward you slowly as you backed away from him.

"Can you slow down for a minute?" You backed into a chair, falling into the seat.

"What's wrong?" Wonbin frowned. "Am I not hot enough? You looked like you liked me watching you, and you look really about now." Wonbin's eyes pointed out the tent in your pants.

"You're hot! Super hot! I'm just..."

Wonbin tucked his hair behind one ear. "Say it for me to hear. Speak clearly."

"I'm still... a virgin."

Wonbin froze in shock. "You came here, a full-on virgin?"

You nodded, embarrassment starting to color your face. "No one's even seen it before."

"It? You mean your cock?" Wonbin laughed. "You've never taken a dick pic before, or anything?"

You shook your head.

Wonbin's energy changed. It felt less like a sexual panther, ready to pounce, and more like a sensual snake. It was clear that Wonbin was charged, but he could tell you weren't ready to drive over the edge just yet.

Wonbin sat on the bed. "So level with me. Have you had an orgasm? Like have you jerked off?" His tone was curious and playful.

You rubbed your fingers together, not answering him. "Well... I've tried, but it felt weird..."

"How so?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you..." You confessed in a soft whisper.

"That's not a bad thing! People jerk off to hot people all the time, that's what porn is for. I'm honestly flattered, so don't feel embarrassed." Wonbin approached you again, taking your face in your hands. "Let's take it slower then. Can I kiss you, y/n?"

It felt like a dream hearing Wonbin call you by your name. You nodded, closing your eyes and letting your lips connect softer this time.

Wonbin led, moving his lips gently so you could pick on the timing. He stroked your neck and gently pulled you into him, moaning into the kiss. Once you showed you could handle it, he moved your hands to hold his hips and moved to sit in the chair on your lap.

You separated again. His lips were pinkish and cute.

"Can I touch you, y/n?" He asked softly.

You nodded.

"Words." He commanded.

"Y–Yes, please touch me, Wonbin." You replied, embarrassed to say it aloud.

Wonbin reinitiated the kiss and let his hands run over your shoulders and down your back, pushing against your muscles as they tensed from his touch. They slowly dragged down into your lap.

Wonbin pulled awake again. "Before we keep going, now's the time to speak. What do you want exactly?"

Your mouth was dry when you opened it to speak. "I–I don't know if I can go all the way, but I also want to make you happy and please you. So I'll do whatever you think is–"

Wonbin placed his finger on your lips. He stood and stripped off his shirt, unbuckled his hands, and slowly stripped off his pants. Leaving him in his underwear.

Somehow your dick got even harder, the strain against your pants almost pleasurable.

Wonbin came back to you and sat down on your lap, laying his back against you and sitting perfectly on your clothed member. He took one of your hands and guided it to his underwear, letting it slide underneath the waistband.

You felt his cock, warm and squishy in your hands but hard at the same time. It was different from yours, it felt pretty. Slender, and about five inches. Wonbin guided you, moving your hand up and down, stroking him. When he let go of your hand, you continued to move earning moans of pleasure from him. His legs shook and he pushed against you, his ass rubbing against your dick in your pants.

Wonbin made a rhythm. Every time to stroked him, he'd push against you. A push and pull, giving you both pleasure. You could see a wet spot at his tip in his underwear. Curiously, you poked it and precum stuck on your finger, using it while you stroked him.

"Oh, improvising is good. I like that!" Wonbin purred.

"C-Can I see it?" You whispered.

Wonbin giggled. He lifted his lips and slid his underwear down enough for his cock to spring out, with your hand wrapped around its base.

Watching your hand work over Wonbin, and his reactions to you touching him were like magic to you. You focused on his tip, making his whole body shake and tense.

"Oh, fuck! If you do that, I'll cum fast..." Wonbin warned. "How about you, how are you feeling?"

You loved every ounce he gave you. It itched and burned in just the right places and feeling Won's body against yours was heaven with his sing-song voice moaning in your ears.

"I'm gonna lose it. It feels really hot like I'm gonna pee. But it's not exactly pee?"

Wonbin smiled. "Oh? You're close, are you? I'm right here, so go ahead and finish. It's gonna be amazing."

You trusted Wonbin, letting your body control everything. Your hips pushed forward to meet Wonbin grinding against you as you felt the pressure get worse. You couldn't help but bury your head into Wonbin's neck, softly biting and letting the feeling wash over you as your body stiffened all over you. You cock twitched again and again, shooting cum inside your pants. You didn't realize you were squeezing Wonbin so tight until you felt his cum leaking down your hand.

Both of you took a moment to catch your breath.

"I wasn't exacting the biting," Wonbin moaned.

"I–I'm sorry. It just happened."

"No, it was amazing. You did amazing..." Wonbin stood up. "You may want to take those off before it dries, by the way..."

You got nervous again. "Are you going to watch?"

"Y/n. You're not leaving until we fuck. But we have all night, so we don't have to rush."

[elliyoyo]

The Time You Thought Too Loud (Gale Dekarios/Reader)

This is Part 1 of 5 times Gale got teased + 1 time he got his payback. If you're starting, this is right place :) I'll be posting the descriptions and prompts on My Masterlist so you know what to expect, but this will be posted one chapter at a time.

Desc: You catch Gale conjuring his goddess, and he gives you a quick legend in the arcane. You can't help but fantasize about him after he gives you the most wanton look known to man.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, afab reader, vague f!masturbation, and fantasizing (including p in v, f!receiving oral, and creampies).

Words: 1.5k

After a long day's running around, all you wanted was some rest. You had used what seemed like tons of extra supplies because of your own mistakes, you didn't know if your left pinky finger would ever feel the same, and you were completely over today. Hell, you were over this week already, and it only just started!

Despite all of that, however, you couldn't help but focus on (and grow curious about) a low shimmering noise from across your group's makeshift camp. It could only be described as weave incarnate, and the most magic you could do was a measly fire bolt… How were you supposed to fake not being interested?

When you look in that direction, you see a faint blue light coming from Gale's area, which confirms your sixth sense for the weave and draws you in even more. You push yourself up from your bedroll and take a sip from a nearby bottle of water before heading over to check out the small commotion. A small projection floats above Gale's hand, a portrait of a beautiful, straight-haired woman whose look alone commanded attention and grace.

You stare for a moment more, taking silent steps up behind him to get a closer look, a finer examination of all the details on her delicate face… The earring she had in common with Gale.

"Oh my, you startled me!" Gale finally notices your presence, jumping in place as the projection vanishes. "I, uh… I was miles away," he mumbles, hands coming together behind his back. Even though you had seemingly interrupted him, there was no hint of irritation or anger, only embarrassment.

"Is everything alright?"

"Of course! I was just… practicing an incantation!" He flashes you an effortless, but emotionless grin, clearly trying to get you to go about your evening. That wouldn't work on you, though.

"Hmmm… Gale, I think there's more to it than that. The figure I saw; she means something to you, I'm sure of it. You can be honest; I'd like to say I had a pretty tame reaction to Astarion's vampirism and Shadowheart's Sharran worship." You can't help but physically respond to him as well with a raised eyebrow and a hand flying to your hip.

"She does. She… is Mystra. I cannot quite describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her--- to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence." His eyes have glazed over, staring off in the distance towards nothing as if he was now conjuring her up, detail by detail, in his mind. Of course, Mystra was important to him, but no ordinary devotee would feel so desperately drawn to see their idol. "No sculpture or painting could ever do her justice, only the fabric that she herself is and embodies; The weave. Mystra is all magic, and as far as I'm concerned, she is all creation."

"I didn't realize the depth of your devotion." There is a twinge of jealousy, even though there is no reason for it to be there. You have no relationship with this man besides both being survivors, just as there is no reason for you to feel anything towards this goddess.

"Magic is my life. I've been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it. It's like music, poetry, and physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses…" He shows off for a moment, flashing lights and shapes between his hands and in front of your face. Impressive, but he's certainly holding back, not revealing too much of his hand yet.

"Would you like to experience it firsthand?"

"Yes, of course I would!" Personal magic lessons from the magic prodigy? Maybe you were wrong to think there was nothing here. He could have thunderwaved you across camp by now if he had been bothered by your intrusion.

"Then follow my lead." He poises his hands up, doing a quick (easily copied) movement that has you feeling ready and at ease.

"Excellent! Now, repeat after me: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao."

"Okay, uh… Ah-Thran Mystra… Ryl, Kantrach-Ao!"

"Very good, and I know it's exciting, but no need to shout," he laughs out, doing his best to hold his arms and hands steady. "Now I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony. As true as you can."

You let your thoughts and consciousness fade from being at camp, next to Gale, with a mindflayer worm in your gods damned head, to your childhood. Early. Before it had the chance to get bad. Picking dandelions with your friends from the spots of land surrounding your family's. Birds chirping, the smell of fresh baked bread wafting out your kitchen window. Not a drop of blood or a tear in sight. And suddenly, as if you'd been doing it your entire life, the state of calm you'd achieved pushed out a burst of Weave. Gale's eyes widened for a moment, but quickly returned to normal before too long.

"You did it! you're channeling the Weave--- how does it feel?"

"It feels effortless… You're a wonderful teacher, Gale."

"I know." His nose crinkles when he laughs this time. It makes you feel something strange and new in your stomach, makes your throat seize and your guard immediately fall. The moment connects you two, it feels intimate in and of itself. The confidence of having just successfully performed magic, magic for gods' sake… and in front of the most awkwardly attractive wizard you could have been stuck with in this whole situation.

You can't help but think of kissing Gale. With passion, cradling his cheek and neck with a hand each. It's a knee jerk, uncontrollable want that invades your mind before you can hide it from Gale. And see it he does, he nearly chokes on his own breath while his cheeks gain a dusting of light pink and sheen.

"I… didn't think… Sorry, I wasn't expecting… that… But it is a pleasant image to be sure!" His eyes are wide open up until he chokes on his own hitched breath, the unexpectedness of such a romantic gesture tugging at his heartstrings. Making him want. He would have jumped at the chance, sure, but not now. Not with the burden it would put upon you. "…And there it goes. How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were to obtain." He meets your eyes one last time before he turns around, retreating into his tent. "Good night, I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you."

And with that, you were left alone, to wander off to your own bedroll and ignore the snores and sleep talking of your other companions. You would do anything to be in that tent after the tension you just accidentally caused, but a daydream or fantasy or two wouldn't kill you, eh?

You could only sit still for a few moments once you had gotten beneath your cover again. Your hand felt like it was physically itching, needing to slip under the loose waistband of your resting pants. Plenty of mental groaning later, you had your fingers gently, slowing moving over yourself. You think of the fact that you left each other breathless— you left Gale breathless— and that he hadn't exactly been upset by you thinking of kissing him… He seemed flattered. He looked at you with bashfulness, after being so cautious and slow to reveal himself for the first while.

It turned you on to no end.

Countless images flashed through your brain, all of them uncontrollable and barely coherent, but enough to bring you closer and closer to the edge. Gale mischievously looking up at you from between your legs, your legs well above your head as he splayed your thighs open and fucked you slowly, meaningfully… He dipped a finger down and toyed with your clit, swollen and sensitive from however many rounds he had already egged you on to do. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, his teeth digging into his lip as he tried to hide a miserable, high-pitched whimper of, "Feels so good, you feel so good, 'm gonna cum!"

And then, you came along with him, in your head. A soft moan slipped past your lips that you prayed nobody heard and sweat clung to your body and bedroll. You slipped a few fingers inside yourself while riding the orgasm out and relished in the slickness. You allowed yourself to sickly dreaming that you were full of Gale. The clarity quickly came in tow, causing you to shake your head and grimace at yourself. At the fact that the situation had made it so that basic human kindness and attention would be enough for you to finish to the thought of somebody.

You wipe your fingers off, let your mind wander around the feeling of his skin and hairs of his chest, as if it were under your cheek that night. You slipped off thinking about the kiss he'd leave on your forehead and soft murmurs you'd have in your ear.

Little did you know that a very flustered, erect Gale was now the one with a difficult night mere meters away.

[luvpookie02]

He's into you ~ Manjiro Sano x Reader ~ SMUT

002: Dark Desires and Dangerous Games

You stared at the brothers; they were casually sitting in a drinking area, kissing some women. The girl on Ran's lap began kissing him torridly, his hands traveling down her back to her waist.

"Y/N, yahoo!" Yoru waved her hands in front of you.

You turned your gaze to her. "W-what?"

"I've been calling you! What's wrong?"

"Nothing... I... I... I need to go." You fixed your bag, glancing at the Haitani brothers again before turning around and hurrying toward the exit.

Yoru quickly grabbed your hand, spinning you around to face her. "Wait, why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just not feeling well." Yoru furrowed her brow, clearly unsatisfied with your answer.

"Bitch, don't lie to me! You don't look sick. Now c'mon, LET'S FUCKING PARTY!" She threw her right hand in the air and started dancing, pulling you toward the dance floor.

"LET'S GET DRUNK, WOOOHOOO!" Yoru screamed as you both arrived at the dance floor. She immediately began dancing, still holding onto you. "Bitch, c'mon."

Your anxiety spiked, praying the brothers wouldn't notice you—especially Mikey. You knew the brothers were part of Bonten; Emma had updated you, even though you didn't want to know, or maybe you did. Curiosity had gotten the better of you, leading you to research the group Mikey now led. What you found was shocking, uncovering everything thanks to your brothers.

You learned about Bonten's illegal activities, including murder, drugs, rape, and prostitution. But what shocked you the most was seeing the names of Bonten's executives. Knowing the Haitani brothers were here likely meant Mikey was in the area, or worse, in this very club.

As you danced, you cautiously scanned your surroundings, hoping not to see any other Bonten executives. When you realized the Haitani brothers were the only ones around, you tried to relax, deciding to let go for the rest of the night.

"They won't recognize me, right? I mean, I've changed so much, even I can barely recognize myself!" you thought, trying to reassure yourself. "It's okay to let loose tonight, right?" But as you danced, unaware, the two mullet-haired brothers were watching you with matching smirks on their faces.

--- HE'S INTO YOU ----

Loud music echoed in the bar, with people dancing all around the floor while others drank in their seats. However, a different kind of excitement was happening in the underground section of the club—a section hidden from the casual patrons.

This wasn't any ordinary club; downstairs, multiple women were in various rooms, being used and abused by Bonten's executives.

"Ahhh..." a low moan escaped from a man with pink hair and a scar across his lips, as he reveled in pleasure. His arm rested on the head of a girl who was vigorously sucking his dick.

"Suck it harder, baby," he commanded, and the girl obeyed, doubling her efforts.

"Here it comes." He groaned as he erupted in the girl's mouth.

"Swallow it," he demanded before resting his head on the back of the chair.

Around the room, the sounds of other women moaning in pleasure and pain filled the air as Bonten's executives indulged themselves.

Kakucho was seated at the far end of the room, French-kissing a woman while his hand slid beneath her underwear, teasing her relentlessly.

Meanwhile, Koko was on top of a table, thrusting into one girl from behind while fingering another. His dick was inside one, and his hand busied itself with the other, showing no signs of slowing down.

Takeomi and Mucho were sprawled on the floor, each surrounded by three women. Takeomi had one girl in doggy style, his hands sliding between the legs of the other two, fingering them simultaneously. Mucho, on the other hand, had two girls pressed against him, their faces turned toward him as he thrust into a third girl from above.

Mikey sat apart from the chaos, a woman perched on his lap. She nibbled at his neck, trying to get a reaction from him, but he remained blank and detached.

"Your time's up." Mikey's cold voice cut through the noise, and he shoved the girl off his lap.

"No, please, Mikey, give me another chance!" she begged, falling to her knees.

"I already did, and you still couldn't make me hard," Mikey said, his eyes devoid of any warmth.

"Please, I promise I'll do better���give me—" Before she could finish, Mikey pulled out a gun and aimed it directly at her forehead.

"Leave before I blow your brains out," he threatened, his voice chillingly calm.

The girl scrambled to her feet, fleeing from the room, her naked body trembling in fear.

Moments later, a middle-aged woman entered, pushing a younger girl forward. "Mikey, I've got a fresh one for you," she said, presenting the new girl. "She's just arrived."

The girl, no older than eighteen or nineteen, stood nervously in front of Mikey, her tight red dress hugging her curvy frame. Her innocent face contrasted with her provocative figure, especially her large breasts and round hips, catching the attention of every man in the room.

"Oya?" Sanzu eyed the girl with a predatory grin. "Mikey-kun, mind if I have a taste after you?"

Mikey glanced at him blankly. "Do what you want."

Sanzu licked his lips, already imagining the cruel things he'd do to the girl. The very thought had him hardening.

"What are you doing, bitch? Do something about my cock," Sanzu growled, yanking the woman beside him by her hair and pushing her to the floor.

"I-im sorry!" she stammered, her hands trembling as she wrapped her fingers around him, beginning to stroke him again.

The rest of the executives paid no attention to the new girl, too absorbed in their own activities, except for Mikey, who remained motionless, staring deeply into the young woman's eyes.

She leaned closer to Mikey, her hand sliding provocatively over his chest. "This is my first time," she whispered with a sly smirk. "Aren't you lucky? I'm a virgin."

Mikey's expression didn't change. He continued to watch her with dead eyes. "Are you sure? You seem pretty good at this."

She giggled, running her hand lower toward his pants. "My mother was a prostitute, so she taught me a few tricks."

"Oh, really?" Mikey said, his voice still flat. "So, you wouldn't mind if I did this?"

Without warning, he ripped her dress apart, exposing her bare breasts. He spun her around, forcing her to face the other executives, her legs spread wide. With a sudden move, he slid two fingers inside her, eliciting a sharp gasp.

Mikey's fingers moved faster, earning him a loud moan as the girl climaxed. She twisted her body, her lips crashing against his in a hungry kiss, but Mikey bit her lip hard, drawing blood, before shoving her away.

"You failed to make me hard," he said coldly, his voice dripping with disdain. His dark impulses flared as the girl recoiled in fear, sensing the danger in his aura.

"SANZU!" Mikey barked.

Immediately, Sanzu grabbed the girl in his arms, carrying her out of the room.

Mochi and Takeomi exchanged looks, their faces a mix of frustration and concern.

"What the fuck are we supposed to give him for his birthday?" Mochi asked. "No girl's been able to get him hard."

"Don't ask me," Takeomi muttered, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Minutes later, the Haitani brothers returned to the room, grinning from ear to ear.

"Where's Mikey?" Ran asked, his eyes scanning the room.

The executives remained silent, except for Kakucho, who removed the cigarette from his mouth and spoke. "He already left with Sanzu."

Takeomi kicked his feet up on the table, raising an eyebrow at the brothers. "Where the hell were you two, anyway? Mikey was looking for you."

Ran and Rindou exchanged mischievous glances before smirking. "We've got a gift for Mikey."

(A/N) Follow me for Updates

[hyunjinners]

✧:･ﾟOur Promise → Lee Eunhy-uk x reader ˚₊· ꒰🎀꒱

꒰ 命 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ꒱┊Sometimes bringing up happy memories can lift moods.

꒰ 命 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ꒱┊Lee Eun-hyuk x Fem¡reader

꒰ 命 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ꒱┊Angst (a little), cute ending.

꒰ 命 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ꒱┊slight trigger, racial differences, Eun-hyuk being a complete cutie ^°^

꒰ 命 𝐖.𝐂 ꒱┊1,2k

꒰ 命 𝐀/𝐍 ꒱┊One more chapter for you! Remembering that English is not my first language, so I apologize if it is in old-fashioned writing or any spelling errors.

⊹₊˚ʚ❛Masterlist❜ɞ

Bored, Eun-hyuk walks through the corridors of the green building, looking at how the residents are getting along with each other. He carries an imperceptible smile on his face from the little memory of his sister proposing between the lines to Hyun-su.

Crossing the hall, his eyes fall directly on her figure sitting absently. Beautiful. He couldn't help thinking. He watches as he crosses his arms, attentive to her details. The pencil in her hand, tracing perfect lines on the notebook in her lap, your foot tapping frantically to the music playing in your headphones and even the way you would unnoticedly tuck the lock of hair that fell across your face behind your ear.

For anyone this would be a cute or ordinary scene. But Eun-hyuk knew you. He loved you. Which of course guaranteed the fact that he knew you very well, and he knew something was wrong. You were nervous, anxious - worried to say the least. You always do that when you're worried, nervous or even scared. Art always called his attention and, from Eun-hyuk's point of view, he found an interesting way of escape. But still his worries did not diminish.

He really noticed how restless and distant you were for a while during the days. He is really distant because of his role as leader of the group, so it's common for 𝗵𝗶𝗺 not to see you. But strangely 𝘆𝗼𝘂 didn't go see him, which sincerely worried him, but he just thought you were thinking that you didn't want to bother him - which wasn't very unusual for you to think, as you always gave him space when needed.

He walks slowly and silently towards you. He watches intently as his fingers scratch the edge of the notebook nervously. Her head hangs down as she hums softly, wanting to concentrate on the music - anything but her problems.

Sitting down next to him, Eun-hyuk gently removes the headphones from his ears, which results in a slight fright on his part by the sudden act. You sigh as soon as you realize who it was and put on your face the widest smile you could manage - which wasn't particularly much.

"Oppa! How are you?" Through her eyes he could confirm with all certainty that something was not right. In response he just smiled, holding your hand, making you let go of the pencil, thus resting it on the notebook.

"how are you? I haven't heard from you lately, so I was worried."

"I'm fine, don't worry." lie. This was clearly a lie. You could even lie very well, but not when it comes to Eun-hyuk. His heart ached when he realized you weren't going to tell him anything, maybe to keep him from worrying.

"something happened, didn't it? You are restless. Besides listening to music, it's something you do when you're really nervous or sad. You can count, y/n. It's okay." You watch him with lost eyes, wondering if you should speak or not. Leaning back against the wall, you sigh as you stare at the ceiling above.

"it's something silly, Eun-hyuk."

"but it's still something. Tell me."

"It's just… today would be my test. The most important of the semester. The proof that I spent weeks studying because I wanted something for my future but, with all this monster business, I wonder if it even really has a future." you let out a sad laugh. You didn't want to tell because it seemed silly, but only you know what happened. a foreigner, who left her family behind to be able to make her proud and become the most studied in the family, being able to bring the life she wanted so much. Only you knew how hard you and your parents worked for you to be here today.

"I know it sounds silly but…I've been waiting for this since I was 14. I struggled, studied and even worked for it. Which in the end became nothing." a silent tear rolls down her cheek. "sorry…it's stupid, I know."

"No…it's not stupid." he guides you to sit between his legs, thus leaning on his chest. He cuddles in her arms while resting his chin on her head, not before leaving a seal in place. "I know it's important to you and I understand more than anyone what it's like to be forced to drop out of school for a bigger reason."

"but the worst of it is that I won't be able to keep our promise."

The promisse. He remembers clearly.

You were in your small apartment for an afternoon of study together. Eun-hyuk was sitting in her swivel chair while you were sitting on her bed, leaning against the wall. You let out a sigh, dropping the book onto the bed with a low grunt.

"Oppa! Why is studying so tiring?" he turns his chair towards her, looking into her eyes with a small smile. He adjusts his glasses as he gets up to sit beside her. You intertwine your hands, looking into his face in awe.

"want to know something? When all this studying, tests and simulations are over, I'm going to marry you." You said suddenly, making Eun-hyuk surprised.

"Marry?" he asks, a little desperate due to the impact of the fright.

"Of course you do, you silly! Or would you rather I marry some college freshman?"

"What? No no! Of course not… I agree to marry you."

"then…" you intertwine your pinkies, joining your thumbs together like a seal. "…it's a promise."

He loves that memory, but it grew sadder and sadder when he stopped to think about their predicament, how their futures were compromised. You bite your lower lip remembering every effort you made to finish college. It was all down the drain.

"Do not think like that. The world could go up in flames, but that's no reason to part with you. I love you. Of course it's hard but, at least for me, if we're together it's just something we'll get through. Together. No matter what happens."

You are silent, absorbing his words. You couldn't disagree, he was definitely your everything, and you couldn't let the situation stop you from thinking about a better future. He also knew that maybe things would never really get better, but he loves you. Very. And I wanted to get through it all with him.

"…Thank you, Eun-hyuk. I don't know how I would be without you. I love you so much and I want more than ever to be with you until the end."

"I love you too, so I'm going to make it happen. I will keep the promise, my love. Don't worry."

꒷꒦ ⊹ ๑ ❛original by: @hyunjinners ¡ Like × reblog❜ =͟͟͞♡ ‧ ˚ ₊

[thedarkcknight]

Day 31 Happy Halloween (Everybody) Fem!reader

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the street, I received a text from Nathan that made my heart race. “Halloween party at my place! Costumes required. Don’t be late!”

I quickly glanced at the time. There was barely an hour until the festivities began, and my mind raced through costume options. I had planned to wear something simple, but Nathan’s parties were never ordinary. He and his alter ego, Phantom, always went all out, and I wanted to fit in with the creativity that surrounded them.

Once I settled on a witch costume with a stylish twist, I headed out. The night was crisp, the air fragrant with fallen leaves, and the streets were lit with flickering jack-o'-lanterns. Nathan’s house was alive with music as I arrived, a blend of eerie soundscapes and Halloween hits that filled the air.

The moment I stepped inside, I was greeted by a kaleidoscope of costumes. Nathan, dressed impeccably as Phantom, had dark, flowing clothes that swirled around him like shadows, his eyes glinting mischievously. He welcomed me with open arms and a grin. “You made it! You look amazing!”

“Thanks! So, who else is here?” I asked, scanning the room filled with revelers in various costumes.

“Let me introduce you,” Nathan said, leading me further into the house.

In one corner, Hunter Hughes was decked out in leather and gear as the Werewolf Hunter, his intense gaze matching the rugged persona. Nearby, Sam Golbach floated around as Ghost Sam, a white sheet with a playful twist, making everyone laugh as he pretended to scare them.

“Over there,” Nathan pointed to a group, “is Chris Evans as Incubus Chris. He’s got some serious charm going on tonight.” Chris winked at me, a playful smile plastered on his face, making my cheeks warm. Next to him, Robert Downey Jr. as Ghost RDJ was throwing in sarcastic comments, creating a ripple of laughter.

Further down, I spotted MatPat, embracing his alter ego Madpat with enthusiasm, while Dan Ewing, as Vampire!Dillon, was enthusiastically trying to convince people to let him bite them for a “taste of the vampire life.” Ari Boyland, fully in character as Demon!Flynn McAllister, was engaging in a dramatic duel with a fake sword, clearly enjoying the chaos.

The party buzzed with energy. I marveled at Jacksepticeye, whose alter ego, Antisepticeye, was creating delightful havoc with his antics. Colby Brock, channeling Demon Colby, entertained a small crowd with eerie tales, while Milo Cawthorne, in his Killer!Ziggy Grover attire, crafted elaborate mockery of slasher films.

“Hey!” Nathan called, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’ve got to meet the Kratt brothers!”

Martin Kratt stood nearby, donning a Cyclops costume with a large eye that seemed to follow everyone, while Chris Kratt was busy trying to hypnotize a group with his ‘mind control’ skills. Their playful banter had everyone in stitches.

As the night continued, Jesse McCartney arrived, styled as the Headless Horseman, complete with a pumpkin for a head that he cleverly used to talk and sing with. Markiplier, embracing his Darkiplier persona, added a touch of drama to the atmosphere with theatrical gestures and booming laughter.

“Come on!” Nathan pulled me into the crowd, laughter and chatter swirling around us. We danced and mingled, caught in the revelry of the night. Each moment was a tapestry of costumes, laughter, and the vibrant spirit of Halloween.

As the clock approached midnight, Nathan gathered everyone for a toast. “To friendship, creativity, and the spirit of Halloween!” His voice rose above the chatter, and everyone raised their drinks, cheers echoing through the room.

I felt an overwhelming warmth as I looked around. Surrounded by friends in their various personas, the night shimmered with a unique magic. Halloween had never felt so alive. With Nathan at my side and a room full of incredible characters, I knew this was a night I’d never forget. Happy Halloween, indeed.

[noellemadrigal]

Chapter 1 ~ 🐀✨

Art by the amazing @artwork-ns ✨

La Rata 🐀

Huddled and shaking under a branch of a Spanish cedar tree there was a rat. All though this was no ordinary rat. For just a mere few days ago she was a young woman called Noelle who had been exploring the rain forests of Colombia with a few companions she had met on her travels. And now here she was - lost, confused and hungry. She sighed as she tried to take shelter under a leaf whilst the rain began to trickle down onto her fur. It was so cold. So dark.

“How did it come to this?” She asked herself as she closed her eyes, desperately trying to remember.

She could clearly visualise her map in her hands and the path through the jungle that lay ahead of her. She had been hiking with a group of fellow travelers when suddenly a beautiful and strange looking butterfly appeared from behind the trees. She rubbed her head as she tried to remember more details, but her mind was hazy. She could just about recall following the butterfly as it lead her away from the others and deeper into the rain forest. The way it fluttered and sparkled in the few spare beams of light with a glistening aura trailing behind it, almost as if it was magic. It slowly began to float down to the floor, perching itself upon a stump. Noelle knelt down to further inspect it, slipping her hand into her pocket to pull out her art pad. But suddenly there was darkness and when she awoke she was a…

“RAT!”

Noelle gasped and covered her eyes as a high pitched squeak escaped her lips. Surely this wasn’t possible? Perhaps she was just dreaming? She thought to herself. She began to shiver uncontrollably as the water started to seep through the leaf above her, drenching her blonde fur. She had been roaming the forest for days trying to find help before the butterfly once again appeared and guided her through a small mammal sized tunnel that lead through the mountains, revealing a village hidden away on the other side. She felt relieved at first to find civilization and headed to the town to try and seek help, only to be confronted with people jumping, screaming or shooing her away. And of course, her squeak. How could she possibly explain to anybody she was actually a human in need of help? So here she is - helplessly waiting under the tree as she watches the now sleepy village ahead of her. The streets are quiet and illuminated by the soft glows from the candles placed in the villagers windows. She couldn’t help but take a moment to admire how enchanting this place looked, especially through the glistening rain. The cobbled streets were lined with the most colorful and vibrant houses, most of which were coated in flowers and murals. She could hear faint music coming from one of the nearby houses and stood up to take a closer look but accidentally slipped, falling to the ground beneath her.

“Ouch!” she squealed as she lay among the slick mud feeling defeated, allowing her arms to sprawl out above her.

“Why is this happening?”

Noelle closed her eyes once again as she begged in her mind to be saved. Suddenly she could hear the sound of scurrying footsteps and voices coming towards her. She jumped up and ran to hide behind the tree before spotting a colony of rats dashing towards the town whilst conversing with each other.

“Quick! It will be time for food.” One shouted to the rest of the crew, as Noelle peaked around the branch a little befuddled.

She could understand the rats? Of course. Perhaps they could help her. But would they believe she was actually human? Probably not. At least if anything they could possibly help her with food and shelter. She hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and calling out.

“Excuse me! Please…help me”

One of the rats paused and turned their attention to Noelle.

“Oh. Another stray? Follow us!”

He waved his paw and Noelle quickly scampered behind them, struggling to keep up. She still hadn’t fully adjusted to walking on four legs, especially with such little paws. The rats all followed one another in suit, up through the cobbled streets and towards a magnificent looking house on the hill before entering the dwelling through a crack in the wall. An elderly rat with a barrel shaped tummy and little, white beard helped to direct the rats inside one at a time, counting the numbers to ensure nobody was left behind. When he reached Noelle he gave her a pat on the head and smiled.

“There, there. El papito will help you” he reassuringly said as he followed her inside.

“Thank you so much. I’ve been lost for days” she responded, trying to brush the mud off her fur.

She glanced up to notice the other rats had all gathered around her to inspect the new addition, some even approaching to try and give her a sniff.

“Hey! Don’t do that!” She exclaimed as she gestured her hand and took a step back.

“This way” The elderly rat called out as he pushed his way through the other rats with Noelle sticking close by.

“My name is Diego. What is your name?”

“Noelle” she responded softly.

“Well Noelle, I’m sure we can get you the help you need. You look hungry”

“I am. I haven’t eaten for days”

“As I said, Papito will make sure you’re taken care of. And you’ve come at the right time!”

He stopped for a moment as they approached a shoddy looking door towering above them, hidden in the walls of the house. How strange, Noelle thought. She glanced down to see a rat sized doorway adjacent to the human one which appeared to have little hand carved symbols around the edge of it. After following the others inside she could feel something tingle underneath her paws and she looked down to discover the wooden floor was scattered with small, white grains. She licked her paw before grimacing at the taste.

“Salt?!”

Another rat stopped by Noelle, letting out a little chuckle.

“Ah, yes. Salt! You’ll find it everywhere. Papito likes to chuck it around, but isn’t the best at cleaning it up”

“Who is Papito?” She asked.

Suddenly Noelle felt a shift with the floor boards, causing her to lose balance and tumble down. She lifted her head up to see a large shadow appear from behind a dilapidated, red arm chair. Noelle covered her eyes startled.

“Don’t worry chica” Diego placed his paw on Noelle’s shoulder to try and comfort her. "It's just Bruno!"

“Oh hey mi amigos, I was wondering where you had all gone!” The shadow spoke, his voice soft and containing a slight titter.

She opened her eyes and looked up to see a curious and unkempt looking man kneeling above her.

“Well, who do we have here hey?”

Bruno smiled and slowly rested his hand in front of her. Noelle looked over at Diego who nodded his head before she stood up and allowed herself to fall into Bruno’s palm, instantly feeling the warmth of his skin as he gently scooped her up.

“Looks like you’ve had a rough time”

He slouched down in his chair and began trailing his finger across her fur which felt so comforting to Noelle. She couldn’t help but notice he smelt so good too; with hints of sage and sandalwood. He pulled a handkerchief out from his pocket and began to softly wipe the mud off her fur whilst humming to himself. Noelle smiled and closed her eyes as she listened to the sound of his voice which seemed to embrace her with a feeling of peace and safety.

“Wow, rubia! You have very pretty fur hidden under all that mud” Bruno chuckled to himself. “And I bet you’re hungry too?”

Noelle nodded and let out a little squeak in response to Bruno. The other rats began to help themselves to a pile of food that was placed on a table situated next to his chair. Bruno grinned lovingly at his rats as they all began to feast on their dinner. He glanced down at the plate to see there was one piece left and without hesitation passed it over to Noelle.

“I’m afraid sometimes food can be a little eh…scarce here. But we try and make do” He said, trying to sound a little upbeat. “Here, you can have mine…”

She smiled at his kind gesture and took the baked good from his fingers. She couldn’t help but wonder why he appeared to be living in the walls. As she nibbled on the piece of arepa her eyes began to analysis the room around her. It was full of random odds and ends, make shift lanterns and piles of plates. Why did he have so many plates? There were pieces of paper pinned to the wall which appeared to have painted art pieces of rats in different costumes and random doodles. A hammock was seen hooked up behind his chair which Noelle assumed he slept in, due to the lack of a bed. She turned her head as she spotted a little theatre which was placed on top of an old beer barrel. Bruno smiled and pointed at it, a proud expression forming across his face.

“Heh, that’s our stage for my world famous telenovelas!” he chuckled once again before shrugging his shoulders “well, I guess it’s only really me that actually gets to see them. And these guys too!”

Noelle couldn’t help but stare up at Bruno, her eyes filled with admiration as she now began to now study his face. Forgetting for a moment about her initial issue of being a rat. How did he manage to make her feel so instantly at ease? He had the most beautiful, expressive green eyes which illuminated in different shades like an ancient woodland with flickers of evening sunlight breaking through. His prominent but perfectly rounded nose had little freckles scattered across it, and there was a crease in his skin which trailed down to the corner of his mouth where a slight dimple was present every time he smiled. His hair comprised of black, springy curls which appeared to be well groomed and followed the curve of his face, resting just above his collar line. And his smile which was warm and gentle radiated with so much love. Bruno looked down at Noelle as she let out a yawn, rubbing his finger on top of her head.

“It’s been a long day I bet. Perhaps you should sleep? I know I’ve got a lot I gotta do tomorrow myself!”

He nodded over at a set of tools situated on the floor which comprised of a bucket, trowel, paint brushes and a pot containing some form of plastering.

“Somebody’s gotta fix those cracks after all”

He continued as he stood up and placed Noelle on his shoulder before reaching out to unpin his hammock.

“I should have done more today, but I just…”

Bruno paused and let out a heavy sigh before shaking his head and removing his ruana, draping it over his chair. He then guided the hammock over to the other side of the room to hang it up before allowing himself to gently drop inside it, causing the hammock to swing for a moment.

“You can sleep wherever you feel comfortable rubia”

Noelle smiled at his kind comment and moved across to his chest, allowing herself to slip into his pocket slightly. Bruno let out a chuckle, which he seemed to do often, and placed his hand over the top of her. She was so tired after having not slept for days, and it wasn’t long until she drifted off peacefully to sleep. Bruno smiled as some of the other rats began to settle around him.

“Buenas noches mi amigos, and welcome little rubia” he softly said as he stroked Noelle one more time before closing his eyes and floating into a deep slumber.

[lovejustforaday]

Shoegaze Classics - Xuvetyn

Xuvetyn - Lovesliescrushing (1996)

Main Genres - Ambient, Shoegaze, Ethereal Wave, Experimental

A decent sampling of: Drone, Noise, Dream Pop, Post-Rock, Neo-Psychedelia

I'm not gonna lie - I'm super excited to gush about this record. I've been meaning to get around to reviewing this bountiful, fascinating little gem for years now. Let's hope that I can do this often unsung masterpiece the much needed justice that it deserves.

🙙

I touched on this previously in my Ride review, but for all of the talk of the 'Big 3' of shoegaze, I think that many of the younger shoegaze fans these days would agree that Slowdive and My Bloody Valentines' discographies are a cut above the Ride catalogue. Not to diss on the band, but the Big 3 is really starting to feel more like a Big 2 these days, with Slowdive's relevance to new fans only increasing over time whilst Ride's relevance seems to be stagnating.

This has left a potential vacuum in the consensus online. Don't get me wrong; plenty are still going to champion Ride as one of the giants of shoegaze, and most folks that were around for the original scene that celebrated itself are most likely still diehard for Ride as the scene's closest group to being mega rockstars.

But in terms of the legacy of 90s shoegaze, could there still be a record that is missing from all-time canonization? One that has oft been overlooked when discussing this supposed "Big 3"? Is one of indie rock's most beloved and revisited eras still hiding an elusive diamond in the rough?

In case it wasn't already obvious, that's the case I'm going to be making today. And I don't think I'm entirely alone on this one. Few shoegaze bands from the 90s have had such a considerable late resurgence like this band, though they've always had a cult following.

Today I'll be making the case for Lovesliescrushing, the creative juggernauts behind the 1996 experimental ambient shoegaze masterpiece Xuvetyn.

The Band

Lovesliescrushing are one of the rare American bands of the original 90s wave.

The project began in 1991 as the brainchild of avant-garde guitarist and producer Scott Cortez, who teamed up with the apparitional soprano voice of singer Melissa Arpin-Duimstra, a vocalist who more than any other shoegaze vocalist before or since has dedicated her artistry to using the singing voice as a medium to carry and modulate the properties of sound timbre first and foremost.

Daringly, Lovesliescrushing as a band decided to forego having a rhythm section altogether. Not even a drum machine. The band's radical ethos right from its inception would seem to have been to distill shoegaze rock music down to a purified elemental substance, achieving the platonic ideal by creating an undisturbed solution of dense and glorious blended textures.

Indeed, where reverberated guitar sounds with bizarre effects and blended vocals were what set apart bands like Swervedriver, Catherine Wheel, and Curve from being otherwise ordinary indie/alternative rock bands, the qualities I just described encompassed the near-entirety of Lovesliescrushing's early output, taking the concept of the subgenre to its logical extreme.

The band pioneered what is essentially the fusion of ambient music and shoegaze, a match made in heaven as far as I'm concerned. This marriage of genre ethos would give way to some of the most unyielding sublime auditory sensations that I have ever been so fortunate to have experienced.

Lovesliescrushing also had one foot steeped firmly in the murky waters of ethereal wave (particularly on the sophomore record), the goth subgenre which served as shoegaze and dream pop's most apparent predecessor and influence. Indeed, some of the band's material can be seen as building upon the prototypical blueprint that can be found in Cocteau Twins' fourth LP Victorialand which similarly removed the rhythm section in order to create pure blissful atmosphere.

Some may see Cortez's work as hero worship, and I've heard a dozen or so folks accuse this band of being "My Bloody Valentine without the melodies and drums", but this is a grossly reductionist take that does a huge disservice to just how brazenly groundbreaking and experimental this band's early work was at the time and still remains to this day.

Lovesliescrushing also regularly made their foray into other schools of experimental music like drone, sound collage, and harsh noise, incorporating these ideas into their creative process. Some of their material even sounds like experimental music with no apparent roots in any particular legacy whatsoever.

This is honestly some very radical music. I can't think of much of anything really quite like early Lovesliescrushing. Perhaps MBV is one of the closest points of reference, but then only because they were a shoegaze band that also sounded quite unlike anything at the time.

Information on the beginnings of this band is scant on the internet compared to many other shoegaze artists, and they were never well-documented by the alternative music press the way that bands like Slowdive or even Catherine Wheel were. And as far as the North American scene goes, Drop Nineteens definitely overshadowed their popularity.

I think it's a fair assessment to say that Lovesliescrushing were truly underground in the band's formative years. I remember only as far back as 2017, when I was just getting into this band through online recommendations, that even many avid fans of Slowdive and MBV had never even heard of this band. But I digress.

Lovesliescrushing released their debut LP Bloweyelashwish twice: first as a casette tape in 1992 on their own indie label with a shorter track listing, and then as a longer full-length album in 1993 on Projekt Records, with newer recordings and mastered versions of the songs.

Bloweyelashwish is a beautiful record in its own right. More generally noisy and droning than its successor, with crunchier guitar sounds, blown out distortion, and a listless melancholic atmosphere. Somewhat closer to very early Sonic Youth, or some of A.R. Kane's weirdest output. What the record does somewhat lack, at least in comparison to its successor, is relative cohesion.

Nevertheless, some very brilliant tracks on the debut LP. "Babysbreath" is music for when you need to smother your tears in a pillow with all of the lights off, "Sugaredglowing" is one of my favourite ambient tracks ever (and a surprisingly potent form of migraine relief), and "youreyesimmaculate" is a stunning and ethereal foreshadowing of what was to come next.

Speaking of which...

The Record

Xuvetyn is... what even is it?

Xuvetyn is a series of documented sound frequencies that would be made by a sentient, shimmering blue light galaxy consisting entirely of trillions upon trillions of frozen ice shard particles. Alternatively, it is the contradictory sound of the bitter coldness of the universe itself caressing the listener in a warm cocoon.

The fact that most of all of this is accomplished with guitar, pedal, vocals, and some studio effects here and there is still unfathomable to me. That is an incredible feat in itself.

Judging solely by the ability to create awe-inspiring atmosphere, I don't believe that there is any other shoegaze band that has managed to accomplish the level of mastery that Lovesliescrushing consistently demonstrates on this record. Yes, If Loveless was the zenith of shoegaze texture, then Xuvetyn is the zenith of shoegaze atmosphere. Completely surreal and captivating.

As I've described the band's sound itself, Xuvetyn really is the concept of shoegaze distilled into its essence, then manipulated ever so slightly with a delicate songcraft and expertise, in order to give these tracks a semblance of form and structure. But make no mistake - there is no solid seabed foundation to this ocean of resonant sounds like there would be on any other shoegaze record. No, this is just infinite, icy sonic fluid that flows all the way down into a multi-dimensional abyss. And holy fuck is it ever beautiful.

Which is not to say that there is no songwriting here - just that it is incredibly subtle. But also incredibly effective.

People who generally don't care for or listen to ambient music often stereotype the genre as being uninteresting, low-effort, or too non-descript, when in fact all of the truly greatest ambient musicians know that making a masterpiece is about learning how to do miraculous things with precious little. It requires immense patience (as does the listener sometimes), a keen ear for detail, and meticulous perfectionism. Unsurprisingly, Scott Cortez strikes me as being just that kind of guy.

The album is a double LP in length, with an hour and sixteen minutes runtime and a listing of 18 tracks. Most songs generally run over the five minute mark, with the A, B, and C sides of the record all padded out every one or two tracks with these really curious little intermissions that are generally less than a full minute each.

These intermissions are often the most experimental recordings on the album, like the abrasive hailstorm noise collage of "Aquan 1" and the gloomy factory white noise of "Hum VIbralux". I could see how someone might want to omit these, but personally I think it adds to the record's pacing by giving it room to breathe, and they made the right decision to let up for the last set of tracks. Plus, the little intermissions are all so deliciously weird that it kinda reminds me of the way that your brain will just plant these bizarre, inexplicable little blips in the middle of your dreams sometimes.

Also hey, can I just nerd out about something really silly for a second? Has anyone ever noticed how a bunch of the track names on this record end in an "-ed"? "Threaded", "Handed", "Blue-Eyed", "Honeyed", "Blooded". Just another cute little detail, adding to the esoteric nature of this record, and I appreciate the alliteration.

OKAY, let's just get to the track by track analysis already.

Admittedly this is one of those records that hits you with the very best it has to offer right out of the gate. Listening to "Valerian (Her Voice Honeyed)" is among the most sublime feelings I have ever experienced in my life, literally ever. Not just in music but like, anything.

Think of any familiar place, or perhaps a virtual space in a piece of media, that held a sort of transcendental significance to you during your childhood, as though it carried a life of its own, a place that you may have revisited in your warmest dreams - for me, it's the lost woods in Ocarina of Time. Think of the sensation that those transcendent spaces would give you.

This track is that same sensation, only on steroids. As soon as that heavy ambient wall fades into the foreground and the sense of infinity takes hold, this gently flowing waterfall of dark sound matter creates a sort of window of reflection into wherever it is in your soul that you have ever felt the most at home. I get that music is a subjective experience at the end of the day, but I feel like what I just described would be inevitable for almost any listener, unless they simply weren't listening to this track the right way. One of the greatest songs ever? I'd wager a hard fucking yes.

The good news is that from here, you have only just begun your journey into a world of many more sublime and mysterious figures.

"Xarella Almandyne" is like the sound of a choir of angels in a massive hall the size of an entire city - the unknowable, lovecraftian, biblically-accurate seraphim kind of angel. Somehow soothing, yet oddly paralyzing at the same time. Based on this track alone, I must say that I'm not entirely convinced that Scott and Melissa are regular mere mortals of this world.

"Blooded And Blossom-Blown" is an eerie, gleaming, and loudly piercing void. I find the majority of the songs on this record to be overall comforting, sometimes somber and darkly mystifying if anything, but this might be the one odd track that genuinely unsettles me; in a way that I cannot get enough of, mind you. Compared to what we often call white noise, this piece represents sound that I visualize in the distinctly unnatural shades of negative blues and turquoises.

"Virgin Blue-Eyed" is a very rare departure in the band's early discography from their guitar ambience, focusing on the incantations of Melissa's euphonious elven voice, with clanging little bells in the background (which, funnily enough, technically makes this the most percussive track on either of the band's first two records).

My favourite of the intermissions is "Seesaw". Transitory shoegaze in a continuously elevating loop, like music for the loading screen that would take you to the shoegaze version of heaven, or perhaps the mythological world of Mag Mell.

"Golden-Handed" is soft, swirling, hypnagogic, and lamenting. This ambient ethereal wave track manifests as the faintest, loneliest light flickering in the gloomy hush of an otherwise dead midnight. Completely arresting atmosphere.

"Bones of Angels" is a two parter - first there's "Bronze Lit Feathers", a labyrinthine chorus of resplendent, inharmonious, and rippling guitar impressions, drifting almost aimlessly and forming only vague constellations with the help of Melissa's frail melody, and a foundation of ambient bass notes cutting through the discordance with great magnitude. This is contrasted by the second part "Her Tongue Pulled Out", wherein the sky parts and the drifting guitar sounds align into a shrill cry, forming a radiant column of sonic light, as if something gorgeous is beginning to descend upon the world. Music for high priestesses summoning divine power.

Xuvetyn reaches its second greatest peak with the penultimate track "Ghosts That Swirl", a piece which opens with this really foreboding orchestra of dreary, gargantuan ambient chimes, sounding as though the world around the listener was compressing in on itself and then stretching in and out of itself, like alternating waves in the membrane of the universe. This overture leads into an ominous, secluded, and crystalline dreamland soundscape, further removed from reality than any other track on the record, and unlike any other song that I have ever experienced. This is music that could only be dreamt up from the confines of a comatose slumber, wherein Melissa's whispers in your ear are the only traces connecting you to the corporeal world, though only audible as faint echoes far off in the distance of a seemingly endless cerulean.

I could go on all day but I've decided to end the track-by-track analysis here. The entire record is vividly evocative beyond what should be reasonably possible (and what I can convey words). You might get something entirely different from my descriptions of these tracks, but I guarantee that you will experience something unearthly.

What Came After That?

Lovesliescrushing followed up their first two records with a series of two records in 2002 that were more just straight up ambient music, rather than comprising an ambient shoegaze fusion.

The first of these is Glissceule, a similarly icy record to Xuvetyn with less dark edge and more of a reserved calm, plus more electronic elements. Second was the more ambiguous Voirshn which I enjoy significantly less than previous projects unfortunately.

The band has sporadically released more ambient records over the course of the last couple of decades, which I have yet to really deep dive into. Scott has worked on a few separate projects, most notably his other band Astrobrite which releases much harsher noise shoegaze records. Nothing from this band has really grabbed me like Lovesliescrushing's work, so I am not very familiar with it.

Like I mentioned previously, Lovesliescrushing's relevance in online shoegaze circles has seen a steady increase over time for a little while now. But Scott and Melissa have always been favs amongst the more hardcore followers of the scene, achieving an almost mythical status as figureheads of the experimental shoegaze micro-scene. And they're pretty much always one of the first bands I see people recommending nowadays when someone online says that they're looking for more "weird shoegaze".

And believe me, I'm one of those nerds recommending this band with every relevant opportunity that I can seize. This should be among the first dozen records we play when the aliens come down to Earth, in order to plead our case for the culture of humankind. This is a very special piece of art.

I won't pretend that this is going to be music for everyone, but if you really wanna transcend your corporeal existence in way that doesn't involve experimenting with potentially harmful substances, I can't really think of any better method. Xuvetyn is from beyond our plane of existence - some people native to our world (allegedly) just happened to manifest it one day.

Join me next time where, in case this review wasn't goddamn long enough, I will be doing a series of reviews on every major Slowdive release from the self-titled EP all the way up to their latest record 🙃.

10/10

Highlights: "Valerian (Her Voice Honeyed)", "Ghosts That Swirl", "Bones of Angels", "Xarella Almandyne", "Golden-Handed", "See Saw", "Blooded and Blossom-Blown", "Virgin Blue Eyed", "Flowered Smother", "Mother of Pearl", "Mandragora Louvareen", "Milkysoft", "Hum Vibralux", "Staticburst"

[solarwynd]

mhj:

made every single mv for every track in their discography

have insane paid playlisting (that gets covered because their music is decent) in some cases more than jk too

situated herself above bts (this might seem silly but it's powerplay on her part)

namedropped bts, illit, and lsrfm and useless knets starts attacking the lsrfm and illit

she also bought the brands, awards (which jimin would have won otherwise) and music festivals

made newjeans fans successfully believe she is a victim of misogyny, those girls are mistreated and now they are defending her like anything

told their girls are crying and supporting her

most of the netizens are on her side even though she shamelessly admitted looking for a shaman?

whole twt thinks that hybe bought awards from newjeans = their flop faves downfall is planned by hybe? wow this woman is more evil and cunning than I thought

I don’t believe that MHJ bought any awards for nwjs. They had a good year last year so I’ve never side eyed them winning. What was crazy to me was Jimin not winning anything for these western awards when he got noms or not being nominated in the first place (since hybe didn’t bother to submit him) when he had an incredible year. I do believe that Hybe used their connections to get them stages and these brands, but that’s nothing out the ordinary because I expect that from a company.

For any tokki to say that nwjs is mistreated is straight lie. They’re dragging it. Literally saw a post scraping the bottom of the barrel trying to prove it because they were sitting on the floor in the big ass practice room of a multi million dollar building watching reaction vids on an iPad…Like had this situation with hybe not occurred, tokkis wouldn’t even be brining that claim up so we’re ignoring that. And I honestly don’t care about what’s happening with MHJ. She’s weird down and with how she’s been moving, you’d think tokkis would prioritize those girls over wanting to keep MHJ intact just cause they prize her visual concepts.

The amount of hit tweets I’ve seen from kpop stans trying to relate hybe’s transgressions to groups that have never had any connection to that company (or brining up groups that disbanded before hybe was even formed) proves how stupid these people are. And then it’s mainly exols chatting. They truly believe that exo was so peak in quality that it’s just so unfathomable to them that they fell off. The conversation couldn’t just stay on the topic of corrupt ceos. They always have to bring BTS into it.

[nomacam]

Bang Chan: The Heartbeat of Stray Kids and K-pop's Humble Hero

Bang Chan, the leader of Stray Kids, is not just an ordinary K-pop idol; he's a multifaceted artist with a heart of gold. From his captivating stage presence to his exceptional talent and leadership skills, Bang Chan has captured the hearts of fans worldwide.

One of the most striking things about Bang Chan is his dedication to his craft. He's not only a talented singer and dancer but also a skilled producer and songwriter. His passion for music shines through in every performance, and his ability to connect with fans on a personal level is truly remarkable.

But what truly sets Bang Chan apart is his kindness and humility. Despite his immense talent and success, he remains down-to-earth and approachable, always taking the time to interact with fans and express his gratitude for their support. His positive attitude and genuine personality have made him a role model for many.

Bang Chan is also known for his strong leadership skills within Stray Kids. As the group's leader, he leads by example, always putting the needs of the group above his own and ensuring that everyone feels valued and included. His dedication to his fellow members and his willingness to take on challenges head-on have earned him the respect and admiration of his peers.

Outside of his work with Stray Kids, Bang Chan is also known for his philanthropy. He has participated in various charitable activities and has used his platform to raise awareness for important causes. His generosity and compassion for others have made him a beloved figure not just within the K-pop community but also in the wider world.

In conclusion, Bang Chan is more than just a K-pop idol; he's a true artist and humanitarian. His talent, humility, and kindness make him a shining example for others to follow. As fans, we are incredibly lucky to have someone like Bang Chan in the industry, and we can't wait to see what he has in store for us next.

[talldarkandroguesome]

4th of Frostfall, Fredas

What an amusing evening we had last night. It was the night of the meeting with the new Imperial prospect. There was a party at their inn, hosted by Tanur, as our parties with the mundanes tend to be.

I played the part of just another guest when I first arrived. I wanted to see how this Imperial would interact with the rest of the regulars and guests. They seemed to be ever bit the kindly proprietor. This was a good sign. They did not seem overeager for patrons, nor in a particular rush to get people out of their establishment. They were neither overly accommodating, nor crass, nor carry any particular attitude. The whole demeanor was ordinary through and through.

I searched their face and their features too, were rather ordinary. Not unhandsome, but not particularly beauteous either. Nondescript would be the best way to describe their looks. If one were to say, oh yes, I was walking down the street and saw a person, an Imperial I believe, the first thought that would enter your head would not be far off from the person standing before me.

Not wanting to interrupt their duties, I indulged in some of the frivolities. Tanur's selection of drinks was just above average, enough to make guests feel as though they were being treated well, but not enough to put off anyone of lesser means, nor to offend someone of a higher status. The food was of similar quality and I let myself have a bit of light fare before my usual cleansing ritual.

There is something about entering a den of carnal pleasures with the skin still slightly damp from clean water and a fresh sheen of perfumed oil. My special merdehkes daelheg blend., perfect for seduction. I let myself embody that personality. I feel my own sensual nature all the more with the scent of that oil on me. I am primed to do what I know is to be done.

I made myself into quite the spectacle, calling as many others to me as I could. Some of my spiderlings were present and they came with only the smallest glance. And as though falling under a trance, others took up the silent call. Soon I found myself in such a pile of bodies that I could not tell which of the many people there was in contact with which part of my own body. As the musicians played in the corner, the music reached to a crescendo as the mass of mortals, lost in the sway of their shared pleasure, moved like the ocean, together, in waves where one met the other.

It was so easy to give myself over to it. To fully release control over my own body. Before, even with drink and my own pleasure reaching an apex, I could never fully let my guard down. It was never safe enough. But being in this place, where I was surrounded by so many loyal spiderlings and with a measure of immortality, I could cede that last thread of control that I have feared losing for so long. And the ecstasy that flowed from me was palpable in the writhing pleasure of those around me.

It was a transcendent experience. For I felt as though each person who touched me, who I touched, warm, bare flesh pressed against the other, was taking away some of what I was experiencing, the sensation I felt was given to them in turn. And as each person felt that pleasure, it was passed along to the next and the next. So that soon the sounds of pleasure rose in the room like a chorus, a song of praise to my great Prince. And hearing the beauty of that melody, I pushed on, called with my will for the others to keep going, to remain in this pique of pleasure, longer and longer.

Excitement seemed to erupt from some throats around me, surprise that things continued. There was laughter, jovial and hearty. There were screams and moans of climax, woven amongst these as well. Yet the group did not disperse, did not cease. And just as I thought I surely could not continue any longer, another, deeper level of euphoria took hold. The musicians did not cease, for neither had those of us in the room, and I realized that at some point the song and the motion of bodies were in perfect harmony, aligned in a way I do not know if it could have been accomplished consciously.

Finally, there was a sense in the room that everyone could go on no longer and the music lulled and the bodies detangled from one another. And everyone, musician and guest alike, were painting and sweating and coated in the love we had all shared in that moment. Even still, there was laughter, as though no one could quite believe what had just happened. Murmurs between people seeming incredulous about their multiple releases buzzed in the air like wasps by a nest.

Tanur stood in the doorway looking mystified, his trousers unlaced and halfway off his hips. I gave him a slight grin and he came to my side, his body clearly ready to join in the frivolity he had just missed being a part of.

I could tell from a smear on his hip that he was likely engaged with someone or someones else when the sound must have drawn him to my room. He planted kisses along my collarbone and down my chest. I tipped up his chin to look at him with a small laugh and then gestured to my own flagging member, which clearly was not yet ready for more.

Ever one to take this as a challenge, he did his best to rouse me back to a state where he might find his own resolution. I gently guided him away and told him to have patience. He brought me some of the shein and some light fare and I let him feed me sensually, knowing that all it was doing was teasing him more.

Eventually, when I was well recovered, I let him indulge in the manner of his preference . Blaze joined as well, though I had not at first realized it was she who had joined us. I brought her to pleasure as well before we parted and I sought out the appointment room for my meeting with the Imperial.

I did not bother to get fully dressed. If the Imperial were going to be committing murder during such events, then nudity would hardly be something to be shy about. I knocked in the pattern given me and the door opened, the Imperial gesturing me inside.

They introduced themselves as Nole. I made my greeting and took the offered seat across from their desk, making myself overly familiar in my tone and draping myself over the proffered furnishing.

We spoke for a while and I could tell they were watching me with a very calculating eye. I assume they saw much and so had many questions that they longed to ask, but were too afraid to risk asking.

When I asked about the plan for the murder they were to carry out that night, they informed me that it was already taken care of and the body waiting for people to vacate in order to be disposed of.

I was disappointed in myself that I had missed seeing or hearing this take place. Yet I could guess at what point it may have occurred that I had done so.

When we seemed to come to an understanding, I reached across the desk with my hand outstretched, as if to shake their arm in the symbol of a pact made.

They took my hand and in doing so, I saw their past crimes. Murder. Several times, in fact. Always seemingly justified.

Yet I did not see anything to do with the Dark Brotherhood and Nole did not seem to have felt me seeing into their mind when we touched.

I smiled and offered them to join us at an after party. I said, it was a sort of tradition when sealing deals.

If nothing else, I figured we could simply kill Nole and forge transfer of the deed and make it look like they had returned to Cyrodill.

I was glad it did not come to that. In fact, as soon as the short challenge began, Nole seemed to be very excited.

When I created in flames one of their murders, they looked at first embarrassed, then proud when others seemed to be nodding approvingly. I do not know how to describe it, but they just felt like they belonged. There was a certain rightness to their being with the others, who were robed and hooded at that point.

And then they asked how to join us and I, feeling emboldened by all that had occurred, pressed on with the initiation at their insistence. I did make sure to explain who we served and offer them an out, but they seemed excited by the prospect. They said how after seeing the display at the party, they were not surprised to see what Prince we served, though they had wondered if we followed Sanguine.

I took no offense at this, only laughed. The mirth of our group as they welcomed a new member was higher than I had anticipated. They seemed to all be very excited, truly pleased.

And so we moved into our usual celebration for the new moon. We had prayer and all the offerings. I pulled Nole aside then to tell them that they should choose a name for use in the group. It was a safety measure. That they should let no one else know their true name. They asked for time to think on it and I granted this, of course. I also let them know that they would have space made for them in the Nest, should they have a need or desire to spend time there.

Then I had my time with Zethith and discussed the new member and they granted the enchantment of entrance to Nole.

It was after that meeting that Tanur asked for a reward. He seemed to think that having recruited someone new, he deserved another reward.

I want him to be happy, so I obliged.

I have no desire to return to Mournhold just yet. Let me have a day to rest. The Three know I could use it after last night.

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group K Round 3: #K4 vs #K7

#K4: Highschool superheroes

#K7: A story of children who want to be acknowledged

Details and poll under the cut!

#K4: Gatchaman Crowds

Summary:

Hajime Ichinose's ordinary life is in for a change when a transcendent being named J.J Robinson hands her a small book called NOTE—a device which transforms her into one of the Gatchaman, the legendary protectors of Tachikawa City. Stressing that the existence of their group must remain a secret, fellow Gatchaman Sugane Tachibana takes Hajime to their base of operations, where Paiman, the panda-like alien leader of the Gatchaman, reveals their purpose: to eliminate aliens that pose a danger to humanity. These existential threats, called MESS, are becoming increasingly dangerous, destroying everything they touch. Now it's up to the Gatchaman and their new recruit to stop them before the world is engulfed in chaos.

Propaganda:

Crowds is a very ambitious anime in my opinion! It takes place in a world not too different from ours, where most problems are solved quickly due to an app that everyone uses. Technology makes it so that everyday people can save each other. In a world where everyone’s a hero, what use are heroes? What even makes one? It follows a girl named Hajime as she joins a team of superheroes with her unique perspective. If you like animes that are different and somewhat whimsical (with the occasional battle). This might be up your alley!

The visuals are also unique and colorful, with creatures and locations that can be pretty abstract. The characters are interesting, each have their own personalities, perspectives, and motivations for what they do. Crowds is short, but it manages to give everyone some kind of character arc, and give them depth. I personally find the team very endearing, and Rui has STYLE! As a fellow guy who wears dresses and heels sometimes, I love him very much.

Also, THE MUSIC. If you don’t check out the anime you should at least check out the opening and ending songs, they are absolute bangers.

Trigger Warnings:

Blood, murder, manipulation. I don’t remember there being transphobia/homophobia, but anime has a bad track record in general and there are 1 or 2 LGBT characters and I could have forgotten.

#K7: Terror in Resonance (Zankyou no Terror)

Summary:

Painted in red, the word "VON" is all that is left behind after a terrorist attack on a nuclear facility in Japan. The government is shattered by their inability to act, and the police are left frantically searching for ways to crack down the perpetrators. The public are clueless—until, six months later, a strange video makes its way onto the internet. In it, two teenage boys who identify themselves only as "Sphinx" directly challenge the police, threatening to cause destruction and mayhem across Tokyo. Unable to stop the mass panic quickly spreading through the city and desperate for any leads in their investigation, the police struggle to act effectively against these terrorists, with Detective Kenjirou Shibazaki caught in the middle of it all.

Propaganda:

The big thing to this show is that the directors are Shinichirō Watanabe and Yoko Kanno, aka the team behind Cowboy Bebop. But in all seriousness, the show still haunts me and the music can still bring tears to my eyes. The art is incredible, and the characters are tragic. The story is partially about hope and largely about kids wanting their pain to be acknowledged.

Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse, Suicide

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how it’s presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form, where you can submit revisions for taglines, propaganda, trigger warnings, and/or video.

[canmom]

Animation Night 161: Barry JC Purves

Good evening everyone!! I have completed my pilgrimage to Animation City. The last Annecy posts should be dropping tomorrow, all being well.

But! Tonight can be something of a preview!

The very last thing I did at Annecy was to drop into a collection for stop motion animator Barry JC Purves, who received a lifetime achievement award this festival. He totally wasn't on my radar which is a huge oversight because he's been making gay old short films for longer than I've been alive! l became a fan immediately lmao

As it happened, Barry Purves was there at the screening and afterwards took the time to chat with a small group of us, to give advice on animation, talk about his work, and generally be very encouraging. Here I am next to him holding the puppet Toddie from his film No Ordinary Joe (apologies for the shit picture quality, I didn't realise how dirty my lens was)

And here's the puppet up close:

So who is this guy, what's his story? Well, the way he told it, he started out in acting, but felt there were a lot of talented actors around. Around that time he saw stop motion films, and started to think he could bring a lot more performance and emotion than people were doing at the time. This must have been around 1989, when he made his first film Next, a speedrun of the works of Shakespeare performed by a puppet of the Bard...

Theatre would be a recurring theme throughout just about all his personal works. Screen Play (1992) depicts a kabuki play...

while Rigoletto (1993) does opera.

I joined the screening just in time for the end of Rigoletto; the first one I got to see in full was Achilles (1995), which depicts the story of Achilles and Patroclus from the Iliad in the style of ancient Greek theatre.

I loved this one. The characters move in a fascinatingly theatrical way, holding extended poses, is a trademark of Purves, who disagrees with the doctrine of realism in animation and emphasises readability above all; the staging is excellent; there is a lot of gay sex. I have no idea how the puppets were made - they're startlingly flexible for all the muscle detail. Barry said when I mentioned about it that he hadn't set out to tell a 'gay story' as such, rather was mainly trying to be faithful to the original story. I admire a lot his confidence in getting this on TV when I was like 2, but he said people never gave him a lot of trouble for content, just funding...

Gilbert and Sullivan (1998) and Hamilton Mattress (2001) were not included in the session at Annecy. The first continues the biographical theme, the second is about showbiz. I hope I can track them down at some point!

Plume was the next one we saw, and this one was great, a wordless film in which a winged man falls to earth and finds himself confronted by weird little monster guys hungry for feathers. This one was really cool, but I can't find it online.

Tchaikovsky – an Elegy presents a puppet of Tchaikovsky moving on a small set to a voiceover of various quotes from his letters over the course of his life and a medley of his music. Apparently they only had the budget for two minutes of orchestral music, the rest solo piano, but this limitation becomes a strength as those two minutes are deployed very effectively. I'll admit, I don't know a ton about Tchaikovsky, but the chosen quotes were affecting and intriguing, and there is incredible attention to detail in the animation - when Tchaikovsky plays piano in the air, the finger movements are apparently noticeably accurate to the music if you're a piano player.

Speaking of pianos, someone asked about the puppet and apparently the puppet of Tchaikovsky now sits on his piano in the house where he composed... memory fails, one of his famous pieces, maybe Swan Lake.

The last film is about a historical figure who I knew nothing about, but completely intrigued. Joe Carstairs was... in modern terms somewhere in the zone between butch lesbian and trans guy, an aristocrat's child who became a record setting motorboat racer in the 20s and also ruled a small island for a while (bc ig you could just do a colonialism back then if you were rich enough lmao). He (I'm gonna go with 'he' pronouns) had a very specific eccentricity, going around everywhere with a doll called Lord Tod Wadley or Toddie, a gift from his girlfriend Ruth Baldwin. Apparently Carstairs regarded as his closest confidante and only person he could trust. So the film is presented as a dialogue between Carstairs (played by real human being Lindsay Duncan) and Toddy (stop motion animated and composited in), as they reminisce about their life together. It was a very cool way to learn about a fascinating historical figure - apparently the inspiration was the biography The Queen of Whale Cay by Kate Summerscale, which he encouraged me to read after the screening - I'll write about it if I do!

And he's not done. Apparently he's been looking for funding for a feature length animated film that would be a murder mystery styled after the bird masks of the commedia del'arte. It sounds sick as hell and I would really love for it to get made.

Barry was incredibly fun to talk to, really encouraging to all of us and gave fascinating answers to every question. I really hope I can meet him again at the next Annecy and chat for longer. It honestly makes me really happy to know there was such a talented independent animator in the UK making such personally expressive, mature, and also gay as hell animated films before I was around. Hope I can follow in his footsteps one day.

Apologies for the late start today - I was trying to fly to join family in Portugal but my flight got cancelled at the last minute and I'm only just back from the airport, gonna have to do it all again tomorrow ><

but in the meantime, let me share a little taste of Annecy!!! Animation Night 161 will be beginning in about 15 minutes, 23:45 UK time, at twitch.tv/canmom, and I'll start the films at midnight. Would love to see you there!!

[twistedroseytoesy]

What if Yuu and some students sang Carpe Diem from Phineas and Ferb as a closing act for VDC?

Super fun idea! Yet another AU for the VDC, hope y’all like it!

The day of the VDC was a week away. Many of the groups were rehearsing and finalizing their acts. Yet mc felt left out as they watched their group get ready for the big day. They’re err just a manager, therefore they weren’t allowed to participate. That was stupid. So the decided to do something about it. Going to the school library and printing about 20 flyers, they taped them up around the school.

Needed! 20 students or more to help with a closing act for the VDC! If interested please meet in the gymnasium at 4 pm on xxxx day.

With that set out they prepared a few things and waited until the next day. There they judged a recruited a variety of students. Some of the more familiar ones, such as lilia, cater, jade surprisingly, and silver. Also g with many students from various forms happy to have a chance to perform.

Now with their group set up, they got to rehearsing. By the day of the VDC they were ready, along with magical fireworks and other fun magical visual effects.

after all the groups had gone out the mc walked out onto the stage. “Ladies and gentleman, wizards and witches, please put your hands together for the final act of the day! Brought to you by a group of NRC students who are glad you’ve all come this far, and proud of the groups performances today! And onto the song carpe diem!”

music started up as a large group of 30 students along with mc came into the stage, moving around and dancing to the music as they sang together.

“Well we hope you all enjoyed the show Hope it was not anticlimactic Now there's something we want you to know And we don't want to sound didactic!”

different groups did tumbling over summoned blocks and pads. Other groups did mini duels of brilliant light magic creating and sending out rainbows over the crowd.

“But if there's one thing we can say I know it sounds a bit cliché There's no such thing As just an ordinary day”

mc and grim appear above the groups riding a ghostly roller coaster along with their ghost friends and hopping down into the arms of the group. The coaster flying over and out of the arena with the ghosts laughing loudly.

“And you don't have to build a roller coaster Just find your own way to make the most of Upcoming days of summer And dance to the beat of a different drummer Just grab those opportunities when you see 'em 'Cause every day's a brand new day, you gotta Carpe Diem!”

the groups continued to sing and dance, using a mix of magic and talent to awe the crowd as the song came to an end with all the students miraculously in a pyramid with mc and grim at the top.

“'Cause every day's a brand new day, you gotta Carpe Diem!”

the Cory’s went wild, clapping and cheering as the students undid their pyramid, mc sliding down a magical slide created for them. they grabbed the mike one more time.

“thank you all for coming to the VDC! And now onto the winners ceremony!”

The students moved off the stage as the competitors came into the stage. Ace and deuce stood just off stage to free the prefect.

ace punched their arm before saying, “you traitor! You made up a fun dance thing behind our backs! You didn’t even invite us!” Deuce frowned a bit but remained silent.

“sorry fellas, I wanted to dance. So I did just that. Now you go win that event!” They said pushing ace toward the stage, giving a good slap to his ass. They nodded to deuce and he nodded back looking very serious as he followed ace onto tue stage.

it was unfortunate that the NRC tribe got second place and that the final act wasn’t allowed to be voted for due to it not being officially a part of the show. But mc couldn’t say that they were up set, they fought an overblot, saved their friends lives, and Vil’s, and gave one banger of a performance. Despite all their setbacks, they were successful. And they were ready to carpe diem.

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev. || AO3

Chapter 27: September 2016

Martin looked up when the bell over the door jingled, preparing to tell whoever it was that they were closed, then relaxed and smiled. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey, Marto.” Tim closed the door and flipped the sign around without needing to be asked. “Jon around?”

“No, he and Melanie are up in Sheffield. She’s got family up there—her mother’s people—and one of them runs a cat rescue or breeding operation or something like that. She finally wore Gerry down on the idea of a shop cat and she asked Jon to come with her for a visit to help pick the perfect one. They’ve been there since Monday.”

Tim frowned. “And you…believe them?”

“No.” Martin sighed. “I almost would have preferred living in a universe where they didn’t get along. Instead we’ve got two of them. I figure as long as they don’t end up on the six o’clock news, we can call it a win.”

“What if they end up on the eleven o’clock news?”

“At least it’s less likely Elias will see it.”

Tim smiled, albeit a bit reluctantly. “That’s actually what I came to talk to you two about. Did he call you yet?”

Martin grimaced. He had, in fact, had a protracted and professional phone call with the director of the Magnus Institute that afternoon, whereupon he had prevailed upon Gerry to watch the shop for twenty minutes and gone to take a shower to get the oily feel off himself. “Yeah. I’m cleared to go back Monday. Jon is, too, I think, pending a release from his physical therapist, but depending on what he’s doing up in Sheffield, that might get pushed back a week or so.”

It had been almost two months since Jane Prentiss’ attack on the Institute. Two months of rebuilding and recovery and determinedly not talking about anything volatile. The Institute had—unexpectedly—been closed for a full week after the attack, and Tim and Sasha had used the time to help Gerry and Melanie haul the books formerly for sale at Pinhole Books out of storage while simultaneously keeping Jon and Martin from assisting with a combination of jokes and outright threats. Once the clothing shop that had previously been renting the space was gone, they’d been permitted to help with the sweeping, mopping, and window-washing, but it hadn’t been until Martin got a note from his physical therapist stating that he needed to do activities to strengthen his fine motor skills that he’d been allowed to help with assembling the bookshelves, although Tim had insisted on coming by after he got off work every day to help Gerry with the actual furniture-moving. Then had followed about a week’s worth of unpacking, organizing, and good-natured bickering as Melanie and Jon ganged up on Gerry over everything from the music they played while they were working to whether they should group the books together by genre or age or just put every single book in the place in alphabetical order or even organize them at all.

The newly rebranded shop had been open three weeks, and while so far it operated under much the same principles as Pinhole Books had—very little casual foot traffic and certain hours by appointment only—Martin had maintained most of his contacts in the rare and paranormal book world over the years, and most of them had at least been in touch. They even had a list of books and topics Diana had sent over that the Magnus Institute wanted to be notified about if they got in. They also had a section of ordinary secondhand books, not rare or specialized topics but the sorts of thing that would draw browsers—horror novels and fantasy and the like—that was already making a tidy sum. It was clear to Martin that the shop would be sustainable, enough to provide Melanie and Gerry with a steady income, anyway.

Martin and Jon had been prevailed upon to stay with Gerry in the rooms above the store while they recovered. Gerry’s logic was that both of them needed someone looking after them so that they didn’t push themselves too hard or exacerbate their injuries or do something incredibly stupid, and that Melanie was an enabler. Martin couldn’t actually find any fault in his argument, so after a bit of back and forth of the “I’ll do it if you will” variety, they’d made their temporary home there. It was probably going to be permanent for Martin, but he wasn’t committing to that just yet.

He loved his brother, but sometimes he needed space.

Tim snorted and looked around. “Honestly, I’m just glad the two of you had the shop to distract you. Especially Jon. He’s so damned impulsive sometimes, I don’t doubt for a minute that if he’d been sitting at home on his own, he’d have been back to the Institute way sooner than he should have.”

“You’ve been exploding with the need to talk to us about what’s going on, haven’t you?” Martin said with a teasing grin. Tim laughed but didn’t deny it. “I don’t need Beholding powers to figure that out. C’mon, help me finish closing up shop and I’ll make tea. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

It was the work of only a few minutes to get everything tidied up and locked down, and then Tim followed Martin up the narrow flight of steps to the residence part of the building. The people who’d been renting the storefront hadn’t touched this part, so the rooms were much the same as Martin remembered them from his childhood, just with less of the oppressive sense of foreboding from knowing that one of their mothers was probably lurking nearby. The walls needed a new coat of paint, but the wood floors shone and the windows were clear behind their dark red drapes. In the kitchen Martin led Tim to, the table had been scrubbed to nearly bone-whiteness and the counters gleamed. The fixtures were polished as if they were brand-new, every cabinet was neat and tidy, and the tea-towel looped over the handle of the oven was folded with geometric precision.

“Wow,” Tim said, looking around as he pulled out a chair. “You’ve been unbelievably bored with Jon and Melanie gone, haven’t you?”

Martin had to laugh. “Bored isn’t the word. Restless, maybe.”

Actually, the word was probably anxious, and that was the most polite one to use. Melanie likely would have said getting bad again, and she’d be right. Obsessive cleaning and tidying up was the—marginally at any rate—less harmful of his coping mechanisms. Martin couldn’t have even said what, exactly, he was anxious about, other than the general state of things. Maybe that was enough.

He set the kettle to heat and took two mugs out of the cupboard, paused, and took out a third. He was just pulling down the box of teabags when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. “Sorry, I meant to come help you lock up, but I—oh, hey, Tim.”

“Hey,” Tim said, sounding a bit flustered. Martin suppressed a smirk and turned around to see Tim leaning with a studied casualness against the cupboard and Gerry standing in the doorway with a delighted smile and something in his hands.

“It’s fine,” Martin assured him. “I was just making some tea…what’s that?”

“Finished the sign for the shop. What do you think?” Gerry turned around the square board and held it up. His smile never wavered, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty, maybe fear.

Even Martin, who’d often sat while he was growing up and watched Gerry turn blank canvases into masterpieces, was impressed by this one. About a foot square, it depicted a full-blown white rose over two white buds, seemingly lying on an unseen surface, with a cinnamon stick broken over the top and sprinkling the powder over the roses. The whole image was surrounded by a ring of delicate purple flowers, their stems twined together. It was amazingly lifelike, even for Gerry.

“That’s wonderful,” he said, awed.

Tim tilted his head to one side, studying the flowers. “Is that heather?”

“Yeah. It means protection, sort of. It works—not well, but some. We used it a bit before we figured out the wards.” Gerry shrugged. “It might only mean something to us, but I thought it was a nice little fuck-you to the Fourteen.”

“I don’t get it,” Tim confessed.

Martin smiled. “Flower language. We had a book on it…actually, we still do, right? It’s around here somewhere. Anyway, according to this book—and a lot of books have different meanings for different flowers, it just depends on who you ask, but this one had the most common ones—white roses are for secrecy. So is a blooming rose over a pair of buds. And cinnamon means ‘power’.”

“Oh.” Tim’s eyes lit up. “That’s why you called the shop Cinnamon Rose Books. Because they’re books of secret power.”

“Exactly. And the heather keeps it contained.”

Gerry looked back and forth from Martin to Tim. “So the sign works?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Tim assured him.

Martin wished he could take a picture of Gerry’s face, because it would be fodder for Melanie to tease him about for months. He’d have to settle for bringing it up when Melanie got back and seeing if they could still make him blush. “Tea’s up.”

Gerry set the sign to one side and came over to take his cup and Tim’s. “So what’s up? And does this have to do with the phone call you got earlier, Martin?”

Martin nodded and pulled out a chair. “Elias called. The doctors cleared me to return to work, so I’ll be heading back to the Institute on Monday. Jon, too, unless he and Melanie get arrested…doing whatever they’re doing in Sheffield.”

“They just went up to get a cat.”

“You actually believe that? This is Neenie we’re talking about. She’s probably using it as an excuse to look into something without telling us she’s looking into it, and she figures we won’t yell at her as much if she took Jon so she could pretend she’s using the buddy system instead of bringing along someone who’s going to encourage her rather than hold her back.” Martin paused, tea halfway to his lips. “I mean, yes, she’ll probably come back with a cat, too, but that’s definitely not why they went up there.”

Tim coughed into his hand. Martin was pretty sure it was to hide a laugh. “Out of curiosity, which one of them is older?”

“Jon, by about three weeks. Melanie’s birthday is the third of November.”

Gerry sighed. “At least one of them can call us if anything goes wrong. Neens knows we’ll drop everything and come up there if she needs us.”

“Which means she won’t ask,” Martin pointed out.

“True.” To Tim, Gerry added, “Both of my younger siblings are stubborn as hell about asking for things they need.”

Martin snorted. “Said the pot to the kettle.”

Gerry rolled his eyes and got up. “I’m going to go put this sign up. You two talk about whatever it is you need to talk about and fill me in later.” With that, he grabbed the painting and headed down the hall.

Tim raised an eyebrow at Martin. “He’s going out for a cigarette, isn’t he?”

“Probably. He usually does after he finishes a painting.” Martin sighed and took a sip of his tea. “He keeps saying he’s going to quit, but he’s been saying that pretty much since I was twelve, so I’m not holding out a lot of hope.”

“Isn’t he only a couple years older than you?”

“Yeah, we’ve had that conversation more than a few times, too.” Martin rubbed his collarbone reflexively. “Anyway. Do you want to fill me in now, or wait until Jon gets home?”

“Might as well fill you in now. From the sound of it, Jon might not even be back in London by Monday, let alone back at the Institute.” Tim leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Right, what did Elias say when you talked to him? Other than that you can come back.”

“He asked how I was feeling,” Martin said slowly. “If I’d been following my doctor’s instructions. If I’d found somewhere to live yet. I told him I’ve been staying with Jon, which is at least sort of true. He said that ‘stretched the bounds of professionalism’ but that he understood under the circumstances, then asked how Jon was. He actually thanked me for looking after him. Then he apologized—which I don’t buy for a second—for ‘our needlessly antagonistic working relationship’ and said he’d like to discuss things further with us—meaning you, me, and Sasha—when I come back. Which is when he said he’d spoken to my physical therapist and I was cleared to come back in Monday.”

“Is that legal?”

“I did give the doctor permission to talk to him.” Martin shrugged at Tim’s incredulous stare. “He’s part of the Beholding, he probably has ways to Know that kind of thing anyway. I figure the easier I make it for him to have access to that sort of thing, the less likely he’ll be to want to use it. And if he thinks I’m being honest with him, however reluctantly, he won’t pry too much further.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“It’s how we’ve survived this long. Anyway, that was basically the whole conversation. How am I doing and he’ll see me Monday. Any idea what he wants to talk about?”

Tim shook his head. “No, but I’m guessing it’s not going to be something we’ll enjoy much. He came down this afternoon, right after lunch, to ask about the statements. We haven’t been recording any since you and Jon have been out, real or otherwise, but we’ve been doing a bit of research into some of them and there are one or two I’m pretty sure are going to have to go on the tape recorders. Mostly we’ve been trying to put the place back together, figuring out what’s too damaged to keep, that sort of thing. Sasha managed to salvage a couple of the statements that got…Corrupted…but we haven’t investigated those. Not for lack of trying on Sasha’s part, mind you, but…I dunno, I’m reluctant for us to do those on our own.” Martin nodded in understanding. “He wanted to know how much you’d told us about what was behind the statements. I thought about playing dumb, but then I started worrying you might get in trouble if Elias thought you hadn’t told us enough.”

Martin sighed. “I don’t think there was a right answer to that one, Tim.”

“Yeah, me either,” Tim admitted. “I went with the middle ground. Told him we’d talked a little, that you’d said there were…things out there, and that Jane Prentiss was part of a bigger picture, but that we’d decided to hold off on talking about it further until you and Jon were back to work. That seemed like it pleased him. He asked if we’d seen either of you since the attack—I said yes but didn’t elaborate—and he said the same thing he told you, that he wants to have a talk with the three of us when you get back to the office, sans Jon. Something about there being things we needed to know it was better he not be around for.”

Something cold settled in the pit of Martin’s stomach. “So he still wants to keep Jon ignorant. Or thinks he’s ignorant. That’s…good, actually, it means the wards are working, but…”

“But less good that he wants Jon ignorant,” Tim completed. Martin nodded. “That was my thinking, too. Sasha told Elias we didn’t know when either of you would be back and he told us not to worry, that he’d be getting in touch with you. Which, you know, did the opposite of not make us worry, but—”

“Par for the course with Elias.” Martin drummed his fingers on the sides of his mug for a moment. “But there’s been nothing…odd…going on?”

“No odder than usual.” Tim paused. “Wait. One thing. You know how the whole Institute was closed for a week? I was chatting with Rosie—she was asking about you, wanting to know if you were okay—and she said it was because Elias got hurt in the attack and needed the recovery time, so he just let it be closed while the cleaning crews and police and whatnot dealt with everything rather than making everyone work around them. I figured he got attacked by the worms—I mean, it would make sense, he was right in the middle of them. But I hadn’t seen him since he got back, and when he came down today, he was perfectly fine, except that he’s wearing an eyepatch.”

That was interesting. Martin raised his eyebrows. “Which eye? Right or left?”

“Left. Sasha made a comment after he left that Gerry must’ve hit harder than he thought.” Tim grinned at Martin. “Hey, maybe he reaped Elias’s eye.”

Martin laughed. “I doubt it. He gave us his statement a few days ago—I’ll bring the tape with me Monday, we’ll have to transcribe it if we’re going to add it to the Archives anyway—and he described what he…does.” His smile slipped slightly as it occurred to him that might be what Gerry was doing rather than smoking. “He’s…kind of at the ‘has to feed on fear to live’ stage of things. Basically he, um, drains something’s life-force through a particular body part and it kills them. I can’t think of anything directly fatal involving the eye.”

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s why Elias is still alive. Maybe that’s how we kill him, one body part at a time, like the Tin Man.” Tim ran a finger around the rim of his mug. “So—I mean, Gerry’s not going out and, like, pouncing random people on the streets, is he?”

“He says not. And I will say the vermin population around here has dropped dramatically in the last month.”

“I’d imagine. How many rat souls equal one human soul, do you think?” The serious expression on Tim’s face was at odds with the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Like, is it just a matter of scaling down for different body weights, or—”

“Unless someone is afraid of whether animals have souls, Tim, I don’t think that’s exactly in my purview,” Martin drawled.

Tim’s laugh was infectious. They were still snickering when Gerry came back into the room, clutching something and looking suspicious. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Always.” Martin gave Gerry a quick once-over. There was no lingering smell of cigarette smoke, however faint, but neither did he have the slight color and suggestion of plumpness that came to his face when he’d had a feed. Maybe he had actually just been hanging up the sign. “What’s that?”

Gerry smirked at him. It was a look Martin hadn’t seen too often, or at least not until recently. He didn’t know if it was just Gerry enjoying life a bit more now that he’d got a second chance at it or if it was an expression he was bringing out because of Tim. “So just as I was hanging up the sign, someone came up to the shop.”

“Oh, no,” Martin groaned.

Gerry ignored him. “I told him we were closed, and he seemed kind of upset—you know the type. I realized he was holding a book. He said he really wanted to sell it and would I be interested, would I reconsider?”

“And so you did,” Martin guessed.

“Well, I didn’t let him in, but I had a roll of bills in my pocket, so I took a look at it and bought it.”

Which meant it was almost certainly a Leitner, or the guy was a really good salesman. “Which one is it?”

Gerry held it out. “Dunno, but it’s got his label. You’re the expert, you tell me.”

“Do you actually know Leitner’s list?” Tim asked, sounding interested. “I thought that was just a cover.”

“It is, kind of. I don’t know exactly what books he had, but I told you, I’ve always been able to sense books of power.” Martin hesitantly reached for the book, on the grounds that it hadn’t killed Gerry from contact yet, so he stood a decent chance.

Surprisingly for a Leitner, it was a paperback, a cheap dime-store novel of the kind sold in airport gift shop. The cover showed a woman with long flowing dark hair and breasts nearly spilling out of a filmy lavender gown swooning in the arms of a shirtless man with wavy golden-brown hair and oiled muscles; a looping, elaborate silver script spelled out Let Me Sleep or Let Me Die. On the surface it appeared to be a fairly standard 1970s mass-produced bodice ripper.

“Hey, wait, I know that cover.” Tim reached for it; surprised, Martin let him have it, and he turned it over to read the summary. “Yeah, this was Piper McCollum’s last novel. It was kind of a sequel to The Insomniac’s Guide to Falling in Love, but it’s about Hannah’s sister Rowena and—hang on, this is missing the imprint.”

“Do I want to know why you’re so familiar with soppy romance novels?” Gerry asked with a raised eyebrow.

“My mum hosted a romance book club when I was growing up. I used to hide behind the couch to listen to them talk, because I kept hoping they’d talk about some of the things that confused me so I didn’t have to admit I was reading them while she was out of the house and didn’t understand why the women kept talking about how big the other people in the men’s clubs were.” Martin felt his face turn beet red as Gerry cracked up laughing; Tim grinned at them both, then continued, “They read a mix of new releases and older books from when they were younger, either that one of the members had loved or that none of them had read. I remember this one in particular because the, well, the B-plot, the stuff that was happening around the sex, was unusually dark, not just for a Piper McCollum but for romance books in general. She died right before it was published, which was the only reason it sold so well, I think. Also, there were rumors about it.”

“Rumors?” Martin said encouragingly. Hopefully Tim could tell him enough that he wouldn’t need to actually Look to tell which of the Fourteen had influenced this book.

Tim nodded, his expression going serious. “I didn’t hear about them until later, but I worked for the publishing company that had the rights to her works and my boss was a junior editor for that imprint when Sleep was published. She said Piper McCollum had always been the outgoing type, until she realized enough money from her first twelve books that she could buy her ‘dream home’ and moved to a little village up in Cornwall. That’s where she was when she was writing Sleep, and Louise—my boss—said it made her go strange.” He turned the book over again. “The Insomniac’s Guide to Falling in Love was Piper’s twelfth book, and it was a runaway hit, so Lou wasn’t surprised at first when she said she was writing a book that was related. She also wasn’t surprised when Rowena Spencer, sister to Hannah Spencer-Beaumont, turned out to have a more extreme version of her sister’s chronic insomnia, because romance was all pretty formulaic back then and you didn’t mess with what worked. What did surprise her was when Piper kept repeating, every time Lou called—that was her job, she was the only woman in the department at the time so the men stuck her with all the tasks they didn’t want, like calling the authors for updates on the manuscripts—that she hadn’t slept, that she couldn’t sleep, that he won’t let me sleep. When Lou got the manuscript, she called to tell Piper it had come, and Piper replied, ‘Now that every drop has been wrung from my veins, let me lay my head on his bosom and at last know which he will grant me.’”

A chill ran up Martin’s spine. “You’ve got a good memory, Tim.”

“It stuck with me. Especially because Lou told me she was the one to edit the novel, and—” Tim paused. “I don’t know how much you know about romance novels, but the thing is that in order to qualify under the genre, they have to end on an HEA—a Happy Ever After—or at least an HFN, a Happy For Now. Sleep didn’t, or at least the original manuscript didn’t. It ended with Rowena, having been awake for forty-five days solid weaving a tapestry that was a portrait of her lover, dying in his arms. And what chilled Lou was that that was Rowena’s last line—let me lay my head on your bosom and at last know which you will grant me. She went up to see Piper rather than call—she wanted to talk to her in person about changing that ending, because you really can’t publish a romance novel that ends like that—and got there just as the ambulance was leaving. There was a man standing there she swore looked like he’d stepped right off the cover of one of the novels they published, and when Lou asked what happened, she said he just smiled at her and said, ‘I let her die.’”

“I take it the book didn’t get published with her original ending.” Martin took the book back from Tim and turned it over. Reading even a few words could prove dangerous, but he was curious and knew Tim had to be too, and since he had more practice in not looking it was probably safer with him.

Tim shook his head. “Lou changed it so that what he granted her was the sleep she’d been craving, and also his hand in marriage. She also toned down some of the…darker elements of the plot, although she wouldn’t tell me what those were. She got a big bonus for it and it was what gave her the boost to start her climb up the industry ladder. But this copy…everything else is identical to the first edition printing, on the outside at least, but it’s missing the stamp of the romance imprint.”

“So you think it might be the original version. And that’s probably what makes it a book of power.” Gerry cocked his head at the book in Martin’s hand. “The End or the Spiral?”

“Could be the Web, too. The crux of the plot was that Fabian—Rowena’s lover—had promised her a cure for her condition, if the portrait was acceptable.” Tim’s eyes took on a vacant look. “I think Lou might’ve made a statement about it, actually. She’s the one who told me about the Magnus Institute when—never mind. We can look on Monday.”

“Yeah. Meanwhile…” Martin held the book in front of him and slid his glasses up, reaching for the Eye. It responded instantly, the familiar static filling his ears, and a moment later the words on the cover and the edges of the pages popped out with a bright purple glow. He let his glasses drop back onto his nose and blinked once; the static stopped abruptly. “You were right, Tim, it’s the Web.”

“Nice going,” Gerry complimented him. Tim’s ears turned red. He took the book from Martin. “Hey, want to help us get rid of it?”

“Absolutely,” Tim said after the briefest of pauses. Martin had a feeling that the idea of burning this one hurt Tim more than usual because of the connection to his old boss. “What do we need to do?”

Martin got up and headed for a cabinet that had probably originally been intended as a liquor cabinet but now held only a single stockpot, which resembled nothing so much as a cauldron. He handed it to Gerry, who set it on the table and asked Tim, “What’s your favorite sea shanty?”

“Sea shanty? Uh—the only one I really know is ‘Blow the Man Down,’” Tim said. “Why?”

Gerry shrugged. “That works. Right, let’s go.” He fished out his lighter—Martin was kind of surprised he still had the one Melanie had given him—and launched into the first verse of the song.

It felt…odd was the only word for it…to be singing with three voices but no Melanie, but it wasn’t like none of them had ever done this alone before. Tim caught on by the time they got to the third verse and Martin handed him the lighter, and he had a surprisingly good bass voice that rounded things out nicely. He even did a fancy twirl of the lighter before handing it back to Gerry, who was maybe just a tad overdramatic in flicking it on and touching it to the corner of the book.

Martin hadn’t burned anything in close to three years, so two things caught him off-guard and almost made him miss his next cue. Firstly, the book caught amazingly fast—it was nearly half-consumed in a matter of seconds, and while he knew it would burn until they were done singing, he hadn’t expected it to get that close to Gerry’s hand that fast. Secondly, the flames flashed purple, a purple that rapidly faded as the fire chewed through the book. He wasn’t even trying to Look, it just…presented itself, even with his glasses firmly in place.

He decided to keep that to himself for now.

As they finished the final chorus, Gerry let the last corner of the book fall into the cauldron, where it folded itself into ash, and shook out his hand. “Fuck, that’s hotter than I’m used to. Right—Tim, you staying for dinner? I’d kind of like you to stick around in case something comes after us for burning that book. I have a feeling we’re going to get a phone call tonight, too.”

Tim laughed. Martin did, too, but he had a nasty feeling Gerry was right.

[boundinparchment]

Of Blood and Sparks - XVIII

Karina Alexandre of Fontaine lost her position, her family, and her Archon's favor. A dead Electro Vision is her mark of guilt. A reminder to never fail again. Faith shattered, and suspicious of the Fatui, she eventually makes her way to Liyue, where she encounters a certain funeral parlor consultant. Little does she know it's only the beginning. Original character centric; eventual Zhongli/OC. Posted originally at @chevalier-of-fontaine. ArchiveOfOurOwn || FF.net || Karina's profile

The pavilion was packed with people surrounding the stage and the wish censers.   A logistical nightmare for the Millelith, she was certain.  Her eyes roamed the area, finding little out of the ordinary other than the sheer number of people.

She was once assigned to the Iridescence Tour in her second year of service.  Absolute madness.  The music was fantastic but she couldn’t enjoy it.  She was there for safety, not frivolity.  She could only imagine it was the same for those serving on Yujing Terrace; an honor, of course, but it took the meaning of public service to the next level when one needed to put aside their own wishes.

As promised, the amethyst hair comb was tucked into her hair, nestled in almost the same location as its original placement.  The piece didn’t stay as well as it had when Zhongli set it but it was safely tucked nonetheless.  Her closet offered little in the way of matching outfits but she hoped her choice didn’t look as uncoordinated as it felt, the skirt flouncing around her knees.  She wanted to pay homage without appropriating and opted for a more modern outfit similar to those worn by other women in Liyue.

At the center of the Terrace stood a small group of individuals and staff members.  Karina could only assume some of them were of the Qixing.  A tall woman with long white hair and carnelian eyes, dressed in a gown of white and gold with black accents, mused over the offerings of this particular Rite.  Murmurs around her were awed.  

The Tianquan, Lady Ningguang, would be welcoming Rex Lapis this year.  If the whispers around her were anything to go by, the crowd made it seem as if the Geo Archon should be honored by the gesture.  Despite the very purpose of the ritual to be one meant to welcome the Archon to the mortal plane.

Rumors were as rich as the lady herself, Karina recalled.  Some said she acted in shadow, pulling the true economic strings of Liyue.  One of Karina’s clients went on and on about how Lady Ningguang wanted rocks made from Geo users to be tax-exempt, how that would allow her to write off the Jade Chamber floating high above the harbor.  

It took everything in her to keep her mouth shut.  Such a notion was child’s play.  They lived in the richest nation in Teyvat and all someone had to complain about from one of their leaders was a tax law change?  Fontaine nobility played with tax laws (and people) as if they were toys.  What many wouldn’t give for that to be their only issue with leadership.

Karina wandered the outer circle before she dared to approach a censer and bother with a wish, a prayer.

Good luck.  Although…you've been doing this long enough, you probably don’t need it.

She never knew if Archons heard their people in the way it was often conceived they did.  They likely had to walk among the populace in order to do so, she supposed.  Perhaps others found comfort in omnipresence.  She did not.  The notion felt creepy, paralyzing even, to think about a higher being judging everyone for every action.

Karina lingered, hesitant, wanting to say more.  But wishes and prayers hadn’t been what saved her trial and they hadn’t saved her parents.  

How fortunate were those who had so little to ask for.

She finally stepped away from the censer and as she gazed around, Karina found a set of blue eyes, cold as ice, looking at her from the crowd.  

What was the Harbinger doing here?  

Even now, the mask stayed firmly pinned to his hair, an accessory; it was the cheery smile and friendly tone that made up his true mask, the one that portrayed humanity.  What little of it he had left.  Childe gave her a wave and her stomach rolled.  Karina nodded in return, lest she lose her breakfast before the Rite began.  His gaze returned to the people, as vigilant as she was.  Karina watched his line of sight for a moment and caught a glimpse of a flying white creature and a head of light blonde hair, bobbing through the masses.

Odd.  Not many traveled in such attire, nor had she ever seen such a floating creature before.

The crowd around her fell into a soft hush as Lady Ningguang looked up to the sky, a jeweled hand blocking out the sun.  She lowered her arm and folded her hands in front of her, solemn as she stepped forward and took center stage.

“The hour is upon us,” she began.

The two attendants flanking the Tianquan bowed and stepped back, giving their charge the necessary space.  In a soft flash of gold, yellow and amber crystals of jade encircled Ningguang.  The stones spun faster and faster as they rose, until Ningguang’s arm reached out towards the nearby censer and the gems flew towards it.  Once properly imbued, a burst of golden light rushed outwards before a powerful beam of Geo energy rose towards the cloud-covered heavens.  A vortex formed, a direct path towards the people of Liyue.

Karina caught awed gasps and whispers of majesty.  Even those who sought Rex Lapis only once a year for financial guidance, those of loose affiliation and belief, marveled in the spectacle.

The calling of a god was a sight to behold, she had to admit.

Clouds suddenly darkened, the golden sky turning the color of churned earth. A ripple of panic seemed to run through the gathered mass.  Was this what Guili Plains looked like, Karina wondered, the day the people lost one half of their Assembly?  Sky the color of grave dirt, a quiet so solemn none dared shatter it?

Lady Ningguang seemed frozen, face impassive, determined to not let her people see her confusion and concern.  

A shape breached the heavens and the nearest set of Millelith dived for the Tianquan.  Screams erupted as realization spread  that the shape crashing to the pavilion was Rex Lapis.  The creature landed suddenly, appendages limp and head heavy.  

When the dust cleared, the large dragon-qilin laid atop the entire display of offerings, the altar destroyed.  Several weeks of hard work, gone.  The silk tapestries she’d helped source were torn, claw marks ruining their stunning visage.

She noticed but didn’t really care.

Why wasn’t he moving?  Why weren’t his eyes moving beneath their lids?  Or his abdomen moving with any sort of inhalation?

Lady Ningguang rushed forward and pressed a hand to Rex Lapis’ snout.  Murmurs broke out when the gesture did not wake the Lord of Geo, panic dancing on tongues that did not dare consider their Archon was no longer with them.

The realization hit Karina like the Skirmisher’s hammer all over again.  Her vision blurred, her pulse raced.

Not him, too.

Not him.

Not when…

The Tianquan stood, her expression firm as she steeled herself for her next action.

“Rex Lapis has been killed!  Seal the exits!”

Millelith from the nearby terrace swarmed in, blocking off the passageway back down.  They created a line on the outskirts of the pavilion as a perimeter to keep everyone in place.  Extra guards began pulling people into groups for individual accounts; they needed as much information as possible.  

Too soon, though, and all they would get were worried citizens.  Concerns would heighten and accounts once possibly helpful would be marred with incorrect information.

Then again, their Archon was dead.  At this point, did that even matter?

Her eyes sought anything except the corpse of the adepti in front of her.  They fell upon the crop of hair the color of fresh hay, a single flower bobbing and weaving through the people.  A fluttering of white followed suit, starlight shimmering.  They were headed towards the exit…

Karina was pulled off to the side before she could see where the stranger went.  She presented her identification, gave her profession.  Reminded herself to keep her shit together a little longer.  She was a foreigner.  A foreigner did not openly weep at the death of another country’s Archon and she did not need the attention.

The Millelith didn’t ask for much else besides what she was doing prior to the Rite and her intentions for the rest of the day.  A shout rose from the exit and her questioning stopped immediately when an order rang out.  A dash of red hair and a flowing scarf broke through her line of vision just before the Millelith gave chase.

Experience told her it was better not to follow, not this time.  Not when there was a Harbinger involved.  

She long speculated what, if any, concerns over the Rite of Descension were.  None of them ever reached this particular scenario.  Despite Fontaine’s recent transition, it never occurred to her that perhaps Rex Lapis would be dethroned.  The people of Liyue loved him, worshiped him, and thought of him as a father to all.  

She didn’t have to take part in a wild goose chase.  And she didn’t have the strength to.

Why hadn’t she just told him?

The hairpin felt heavy and cold against her scalp.

Left with only memories.  Again.

How could she have let herself get attached ?  Stupid.  So utterly stupid.

Not even Archons were infallible, indestructible.  And she had to go and…

Karina found herself looking over the dead form of the Geo Archon.  Golden horns and spines, veined like cor lapis.  A beautiful auburn mane adorned its neck and back, fiery tendrils following the slight breeze.  The tail was not as sharp, spines softening into beautiful, flowing curves.  

His legs bore a familiar sigil.  She couldn’t quite place it.  The shapes nagged her memory but all she could think of was Rex Lapis, in all his glory, stunning and majestic.

Dead.

Who would kill him?  And why?

Lady Ningguang was firing off orders to the nearest attendants and guards, instructing them to secure the remains.  Before Karina could get one final look, she and other members of the public were requested to leave the area in an orderly fashion.  She was too thunderstruck to do more than follow orders.  It was what she was good at.  Orders were at least tangible, easy for her addled mind to understand.

The death of an Archon was not new to her but the Hydro Archon had died in her sleep, in private, and her body was not viewed by the public.  Instead, it was locked away at the center of the catacombs beneath Lutetia as soon as a new Archon ascended.

But she had not loved her Archon, not in the way she loved Zhongli.  Rex Lapis.  Morax.

A Rite to remember, he had said.

He certainly wasn’t wrong.

Her stomach twisted, threatening to expel what little breakfast she hadn’t metabolized.

She clenched and unclenched her hands all the while in hopes to ease her trembling.  Karina didn’t want to return to her apartment, not yet.  Not now.  Her legs didn’t have the strength for the flights of stairs and she didn’t want to alarm neighbors with her sobs.  She could not bear to look at the hanging silks and her almost-finished embroidery.  

A gift that would never be given.