#deep medi

[assortedpov]

I should buy the double LP while it's available, so I don't later regret not buying it after several months of regularly listening to it on Spotify. Too often miss out on new records I knew of when they were released, because I have to see if it has longevity.

[deepmediblog]

WATCH: EGOLESS 'DUBTERNAL' VISUAL ALBUM

OUT NOW

[azaleassgc]

2018

_

INTERVIEW : MALA

FR / ENG

L’art de l’interview est un exercice assez délicat pour peu que l’on n’en fasse pas souvent. On s’en était bien sortis avec Egoless, un peu moins bien avec Las et Mikael malgré la gentillesse extrême des deux, et très bien avec Darren de Unity Through Sound, même à distance. Alors quand SKS et Tibz de « The Quiet Office » nous ont annoncé que nous pourrions interviewer Mala lors de la soirée « Outlook Edition » en Juillet dernier à Toulouse… l’enthousiasme laissa vite place au stress. Monsieur Mala, M-A-L-A : DMZ, Deep Medi, Anti War Dub, tout ça tout ça… On a décidé de rester simple au final dans nos questions : mettant bien l’accent sur le fait que nous n’étions en aucun cas des journalistes, mais seulement des fans se posant des questions sur le mouvement Dubstep et sur la musique. Au final on a passé un excellent moment, encore merci à lui d’avoir pris le temps de nous répondre. Et surtout merci à The Quiet Office pour ce si bon souvenir. J’ai pété ma montre sur Goblin, et on a pris Two Faced sur le son du Bikini, on peut mourir en paix.

AZA : Que pense-tu de la culture Dubstep en France ?

MALA : J’ai eu la chance de voyager dans beaucoup de pays au cours de ma carrière. J’en ai visité plus de 67, et encore je ne suis pas bien certain du nombre exact. Il y a des pays où je ne suis allé qu’une fois, d’autres deux, d’autres où je reviens souvent et certains… où je n’arrive même pas à m’en souvenir. Je viens souvent en France, une à deux fois par an je pense. Selon mon expérience personnelle et sans vouloir représenter qui que ce soit: l’Espagne, la France et l’Italie se ressemblent beaucoup dans la manière qu’ils ont eu d’assimiler ce mouvement que les gens ont baptisé « Dubstep ». Il y a un public qui résonne à cette même-fréquence, mais on dirait que cela n’a jamais réellement grossi. Le nombre de personnes soutenant ce mouvement reste le même, d’années en années en fait. C’est ma troisième fois à Toulouse, quant à Paris je ne me souviens pas du nombre exact de visites… j’ai également joué au Worldwide Festival à Sète et oui, parfois tu croises les mêmes têtes, mais souvent des nouvelles !

Donc je ne pense pas que la scène soit en train de mourir ici ou de stagner: il y a quand même du mouvement mais on dirait que ça ne touche pas un public plus large. Je ne suis pas en train de dire que la France est un environnement bien ou mauvais pour venir jouer, vous l’avez bien vu ce soir à Toulouse c’était génial : le système son était excellent et surtout le public… tellement d’énergie (rires) ! J’essaye de ne pas comparer les pays dans lesquels je joue: je profite juste de ce qu’ils sont, mais pour Toulouse je dois bien avouer qu’il y a une sacrée vibration !

AZA : Tu as joué « Way Mi Defend » de Kahn ce soir : était-ce un VIP ou la version d’Ishan Sound ?

M : C’était la version d’Ishan Sound, effectivement !

AZA : Au niveau de ton passé musical, d’où viens-tu ? Qu’est-ce qui t’as motivé à faire de la musique ?

M : Tout ce qui a forgé mon état d’esprit et ma personnalité vient du Hardcore/Jungle des années 93-94. J’ai réellement été bluffé par ça en écoutant les radios pirates de l’époque. Au fond de moi-même, je suis un Junglist, tout vient de la Jungle. En écouter est ce qui m’a poussé à m’investir dans la musique. Je me revois gamin, pendant Nöel quitter le repas pour m’enfermer dans ma chambre: allumer la radio, régler la fréquence et entendre ce fameux « Tchhh Tch Tchh Tchh « . (se met à imiter le amen break en rigolant) Tu vois ce que je veux dire ? Ce breakbeat totalement fou. Je me disais : « Mais qu’est ce que c’est que ce bordel ? » C’est vraiment là où j’ai commencé à explorer le son et ça m’a emmené vers tellement de directions. Voilà mon passé musical: la Jungle, les radios pirates et la culture indépendante.

« Tu joues ton dubplate au concert alors que tu l’as pressé le jour même, tu écoutes et tu testes. Puis le lendemain, tu repars au studio modifier le morceau, car peut-être que le snare était trop fort mais la basse pas assez épaisse par exemple… »

AZA : Le label DMZ fête ses 12 ans cette année et la dernière sortie date de 2013. Beaucoup sont inquiets notamment à cause de l’inflation du prix des vinyles ces dernières années ce qui rend impossible l’acquisition du catalogue DMZ pour les « nouveaux venus ». Alors voici un peu la question que tout le monde se pose : existe-t’il un avenir pour Digital Mystikz ou c’est une aventure définitivement bouclée ?

M : Avec le recul, je me rend compte que tout ceci n’a jamais été une histoire « d’appartenance » simplement parce-que j’ai fait parti de cette création. Les gens disent certaines choses sur comment cette aventure les a affectés. Pour moi il est très important de comprendre que DMZ ne m’appartient pas. Tu ne peux revendiquer cette « appartenance » simplement parce-que tu as été impliqué dans cette création ou simplement parce-que le retour que tu as eu par rapport à ta participation fut intense. Au final c’est un peu l’histoire de la vie. Tout est un un cycle : donner, prendre, donner, prendre… c’est un mouvement continu. DMZ n’appartient au final ni à Loefah, ni a Coki, ni a Pokes, ni à moi-même. DMZ appartient à tous les producteurs de cette époque, à tous les djs, à tous les journalistes, tous les photographes, à tous ceux qui sont venus aux concerts… Pour moi DMZ représente toutes ces personnes là. J’ai toujours vu cette aventure comme une cour de récré géante où les gens explorent et expérimentent. Pas seulement de manière classique où les artistes viennent jouer leurs morceaux, mais plus dans la manière de construire cette musique en réaction au système-son de nos soirées. Tu joues ton dubplate au concert alors que tu l’as pressé le jour même, tu écoutes et tu testes. Puis le lendemain, tu repars au studio modifier le son, car peut-être que le snare était trop fort mais la basse pas assez épaisse par exemple… vous voyez ce que je veux dire?

Et dans tout ce que je viens d’expliquer je n’ai pas encore parler des ingénieurs du son qui s’occupent du mastering, du pressage… On a Jason ici au studio Transition, tout le monde passe par lui à un moment pour presser des dubplates. (ndlr: Jason Goz travaille dans le studio Transition de pressage/mastering de dubplate à Londres, il est l’un des ingénieurs du son les plus demandés et connu dans le Dubstep). Tout le monde a joué son rôle dans cette histoire! Donc quand tu me demandes quel sera le futur de DMZ je ne peux réellement y répondre étant donné que je n’ai jamais contrôlé cette destinée. Je ne faisais que parti d’un tout, et je serai toujours reconnaissant d’y avoir participé. Nous avons construit DMZ en étant un petit groupe d’amis très proches. Nous avions une direction commune en tant que groupe mais individuellement, nous avions aussi des directions propres, c’est la vie, c’est naturel. Donc essayer de m’approprier tout ça reviendrait à ne pas comprendre mon rôle dans DMZ, ou bien dans le mouvement Dubstep. Je me sens très chanceux de vivre cette aventure jour après jour et ça ne me concerne pas seulement moi, mais tout le reste.

« Le Fatman de Truth me rend toujours aussi fou à chaque fois que je le joue. Je ne fais jamais semblant quand je joue un morceau, alors au fond ça n’a pas d’importance si la personne est un inconnu de 19 ans ou qu’elle en ait 40 et soit très populaire. »

AZA : Tu as sorti en 2017 deux morceaux de Bukez Finezt sur Deep Medi et annoncé un ep pour Egoless (entre autres) en 2018. Ces deux producteurs ont fait leurs preuves depuis déjà des années mais appartiennent à cette « nouvelle génération de producteurs » dans la scène. Est-ce que l’on peut s’attendre à plus de surprises de la part de producteurs de cette génération sur Deep Medi ?

M : J’ai toujours joué et sorti de la musique sur Deep Medi de la même manière en fait. Par « même manière » j’entends que la musique est plus forte que tout le reste. Outre le son, il y a aussi un aspect important: c’est la relation qui se construit avec l’artiste dans le temps. Mais c’est la musique qui reste ma priorité. Il y a des producteurs avec lesquels je travaille depuis maintenant plusieurs années, comme Dre et Tris de Truth. J’ai rencontré ces gars-là en 2007. Ça fait 10 ans qu’on se connait, maintenant ! On a partagé tellement de choses ensemble dans beaucoup de pays différents et dans tellement de concerts… Ce sont des gars adorables et de très bons techniciens. Je pense que le cas de Truth est un bon exemple pour répondre à ta question. En fait, ils étaient déjà prêts à jouer leur musique et à la sortir sur des labels avant même que je les rencontre! Ils faisaient leur truc en Nouvelle-Zélande depuis longtemps déjà. Le plus important est d’être ouvert d’esprit. Puis surtout ouvert aux opportunités et être prêts à découvrir de nouvelles musiques. Je me dois d’aimer la musique que je joue, sinon pourquoi est-ce que je la jouerai ? Certains morceaux restent plus d’un an en dubplate dans mon sac. Le Fatman de Truth me rend toujours aussi fou à chaque fois que je le joue. Je ne fais jamais semblant quand je joue un morceau, alors au fond ça n’a pas d’importance si la personne est un inconnu de 19 ans ou qu’elle en ait 40 et soit très populaire. Ce sera toujours la musique qui primera avant tout. Dans un sens, c’est une nouvelle connexion qui se crée, et vous allez de l’avant avec cette nouvelle connexion à chaque fois!

Certains artistes avec lesquels je travaille sont très prolifiques et dans tellement de styles différents. Donc dans un certain sens, c’est impossible de prétendre que ces artistes là te sont « exclusifs » et t’appartiennent simplement parce que tu sors certains de leurs morceaux sur ton label. Il faut vraiment que les gens comprennent que les artistes ont besoin aussi de leur liberté. Les relations évoluent également, c’est pourquoi Truth ont leur propre label maintenant et continuent d’en sortir sur d’autres. Et malgré tout ça ils représentent totalement Deep Medi du début à la fin. Je vois ça comme une véritable bénédiction, on est vraiment dans l’optique de sortir que de la bonne musique. Certains vont dire de Bukez Finezt « qu’Il fait de la musique grinçante », « qu’il fait du brostep », « qu’il fait ceci ou cela… » et oui: il en fait. Mais est-ce que tu as écouté l’autre surface de sa musique ? Moi, oui. Bukez Finezt… mon dieu je l’adore. D’un point de vue créatif il est sur une autre planète, très prolifique et vous pouvez écouter son excellent mixage dans tout ce qu’il fait. Et tout comme Egoless il ne joue que des sets « live » en concerts, et ils sont parmi les meilleurs à mon sens. De vrais scientifiques du Dub, comme on en fait plus. Donc pour répondre à ta question : cela n’a pas d’importance que tu sois un nouveau ou non pour que je sorte ton morceau sur Deep Medi, si je le ressens et que ça me plait alors j’agirai.

AZA : La prochaine question concerne le fameux « Topper Top » ! 2, 3 rewinds ce soir, 6 ou 7 aux dix ans de Deep Medi l’an dernier à Brixton… C’est clairement l’un des morceaux phares de l’année, que l’on aime ou pas. Il doit bien y avoir une histoire derrière tout ça non ? Surtout que le catalogue Deep Medi est très discret en terme de genre « Grime » pur et dur.

M : Encore une fois je ne peux que parler selon mon point de vue. Si vous voulez en savoir plus il faudra demander à Spyro, Teddy, Lady Chann, Killa P et aux autres ! J’ai entendu ce morceau pour la première fois il y a deux ans sur une boat-party Deep Medi à l’Outlook Festival. On jouait tous ensemble : deux morceaux chacun tous à la suite et c’est Kahn qui a joué ce dubplate. 4 pull-up plus tard : le public était fou et je lui ai demandé « Qu’est ce que c’est que ça ?? » J’ai de suite pensé que c’était une production de lui, mais non ce fut Sir Spyro. J’ai donc cherché un moyen de rentrer en contact avec lui car je ne le connaissais pas du tout ! Par chance, j’ai découvert que son agent bossait pour la même boite que le mien. C’est comme ça que j’ai essayé de joindre Spyro. Je me suis d’abord présenté à son agent et j’ai simplement demandé si je pouvais récupérer le fichier du morceau pour le presser en dubplate. Quelques heures plus tard, je recevais le fichier et l’après-midi même je le pressais. Depuis je l’ai joué autant que je pouvais tellement j’adore ce morceau. C’est drôle car mon agent Steph connaissant son agent depuis longtemps, donc la connexion était déjà présente d’une certaine manière. Trois semaines plus tard, nous avons décidé ensemble d’en faire une sortie sur Deep Medi. Et voilà. Spyro est quelqu’un d’adorable, je suis fier de cette histoire car nous nous sommes rencontrés par le biais de la musique, de SA musique. Encore une fois, voilà pourquoi je me concentre exclusivement sur la musique.

AZA : Tu presses encore des dubplates ? Toujours avec Jason ?

M : J’en presse bien sur, quasiment tout le temps. Et oui, toujours avec Jason. Je suis très curieux d’apprendre comment différents ingénieurs du son travaille. J’en ai testé beaucoup. Par exemple il y a 5 ans, j’ai pressé un dubplate avec un ingénieur du son de New-York qui travaillait beaucoup avec des rappeurs, il était notamment connu pour avoir bossé sur certains albums de Jay-Z. J’étais donc curieux de voir comment il allait le presser, à cause de qui il était, d’où il venait et de ce qu’il faisait. Le morceau sonnait très bien, mais il n’était pas calibré comme nous le jouons sur les sound-systems.

AZA : Quelles étaient les différences ?

M : Pour moi, tout venait de la relation Kick/Basse. Le kick du morceau résonnait beaucoup plus que la basse. On aurait dit que la basse ne dirigeait presque plus le son. J’aime que la basse guide réellement le tout, même si le kick doit avoir suffisamment de punch pour passer à travers la basse correctement. Quand tu écoutes ce que nous faisons, tu peux te rendre compte assez facilement que les kicks et la basse sont traités quasiment au même niveau. Parfois la basse sera intense, mais le kick arrivera à passer à travers, il y a tout un jeu là dessus. Dans tous les cas, je ne féliciterai jamais assez Jason pour tout le travail qu’il fait. Au final on a beaucoup d’ingénieurs différents maintenant, et c’est important car certains sons résonnent différemment et même mieux avec différents ingénieurs.

AZA : En parlant de Dubplates, il y en a énormément qui trainent sur le net de toi. Certains les collectionne et beaucoup d’entre eux sont incroyables : compte-tu les sortir un jour ?

M : Probablement jamais. Pour être honnête avec toi, je ne les écoute même plus maintenant.

_

ENG _

Making an interview can be such an horrible thing if we never practice. We’ve been doing great with Egoless, a little bit less with Las & Mikael despite their extreme sweetness and really well with Darren from Unity Through Sound. But when SKS and Tibz from The Quiet Office confirmed us that we were about to interview Mala after his set at Outlook Edition in Toulouse last July… enthousiasm suddenly gave way to stress. The M-A-L-A : Anti War Dub, DMZ, Deep Medi, Dubstep… you know the legend. Someone we truly respect for so many years right now. So… we decided to stay simple in the way to approach this moment. We’ve been clear to him that we weren’t journalists, only fanboyz who had questions about Dubstep and the music. Finally everything went really well, thanks again to him for took some time to do this with us. And special thanks to The Quiet Office and their Outlook Edition this night, so much memories : I’ve broke my watch on Goblin, and we’ve heard Two Faced on the Bikini‘s famous soundsystem. We can die in peace, now.

AZA: What do you think about Dubstep culture in France?

MALA: I’ve been very fortunate to travel to many countries in my career. I think about 67. Some places I’ve been just once, some places is twice, some places I’ve been back so many time … I can’t remember. France is one of those places I can’t remember how many times I’ve been here to play. I usually come once or twice a year. And it’s interesting, ’cause from my experience and I can’t talk for everybody you know, I’m not trying to represent anything here, but Spain, France and Italy are very similar. In the way that they’ve embraced this movement of music that people call « Dubstep ». Because there is an audience that resonates with this frequency, but it seems like it’s never really grown. The size has always remained the same. This is my third time to Toulouse, I’ve been to Paris, I can’t remember how many times I’ve been to Paris, I’ve playing in Sete at Worldwide Festival and yes, sometimes you see the same faces but also see a lot of new faces, so it’s not like it’s dying or not evolving, there is movement but it never seems to grow to a larger audience. But it doesn’t mean that it makes it less or good environment to play music because you know tonight was incredible, the sound system was on point, the audience man you know… so much energy! I try not to compare places, and just enjoying for what it is. But for Toulouse it was a good vibe, man!

AZA: You played « Way Mi Defend » tonight, it was a VIP or Ishan version?

M: Ishan’s, man.

AZA: Musically, where do you come from ? What makes you want to make music?

M: The year and the style of music that really blew my mind was heard through pirate radio stations, in 93-94 it was Hardcore/Jungle, I’m a junglist it’s was a junglist ting’. Listening to this inspired me want to involved in music. I remember for christmas going to my bedroom, plugged in my stereo and moving the frequency dial and hearing some » tchhh tchh tchh tchh » you know what i’m saying? mad breakbeats. I was like… what’s that? From those days I began to explore the sound and it just took me in so many directions. It was jungle music man, pirate stations, it was the underground.

« You can play your dubplate in the dance the same day you cut them, then that same night after the dance you go back to the studio to make some edits… maybe you heard the snare was too loud in the dance… or the bassline wasn’t tight enough… »

AZA: DMZ is twelve years old now and still nothing released since 2013. For a newcomer to DMZ music, it can be really difficult to buy some of those plates because of the high prices of the market. So, everyone is wondering : Is there a future for DMZ?

M: When I look back at everything here, it’s never been about ownership, just because something is created and you’re involved or just because the feedback that is received as a result of you sharing something that you’ve been part of creating. People say certain things about how it affected them. For me it’s always important to understand that it’s not mine to own. It’s just part of life you know? it’s the cycle : to give, to take, to give, to take… it’s a movement. DMZ wasn’t just mine, loefah, coki and pokes it was about all the other producers, it was all the djs, it was all the mc’s, the journalists, the photographers, the audience, it was everybody that came together because to me when I look back DMZ was like a playground for people to explore : not just producers playing tunes but the way we were tuning the sound system, you know… you can play your dubplate in the dance the same day you cut them, then that same night after the dance you go back to the studio to make some edits.. maybe you heard the snare was too loud in the dance…or the bassline wasn’t tight enough… you know what I’m saying? In all of what I’ve just said I didn’t talk about the mastering and engineer… we’ve got Jason (at Transition) everyone cut dubplates with jason at one point. Everyone played their part! So for me when you ask me that question about DMZ in the future it’s like I was never controlling the destiny anyway… I am just thankful to have been part of something. DMZ started as a group of close friends. We had a common direction as a group and individually we had our own direction, this is life, it’s natural. So to take complete ownership of it, to me is completely misunderstanding my role in the development of DMZ, or Dubstep. It’s not about me, but about everything else. I feel very grateful and lucky to have had those experience and share those things.

« Truth’s tune ‘Fatman’ still sends me crazy every time I play it. That’s not pretend, it’s because I love this! It doesn’t matter if a producer is just 19 years old and undiscovered or someone who’s 40 years old and established. »

AZA: In 2017 you’ve released a Bukez Finezt ep and you’ve communicate on a future Egoless ep. Those two producers are now well established in the scene for many years but we can put them in an « Upcoming Talents » case in a way. Will we see more « Upcoming Talents » on Deep Medi’s catalog in the future?

M : The way I’ve always done this… I mean the way I play and release music is the music. The music has to speak louder than everything else. After the music and in time a relationship develops with the producers. Some producers i’ve worked with for many years now.. like Dre and Tris from Truth. I met Truth in 2007 you know what I’m saying. 10 years! We’ve shared many experiences, in many countries at many shows. Amazing guys and great producers. Actually Truth is a good example cause they were making music before I met them. They were doing their thing in New Zealand.. what’s important is to be open.. open to opportunity and ready to discover new music I love. I have to love the music i play… or how else could i play it! Some tunes last a whole year on dubplate.. Truth’s tune ‘Fatman’ still sends me crazy every time I play it. That’s not pretend, it’s because I love this! It doesn’t matter if a producers is just 19 years old and undiscovered or someone who’s 40 years old and established. Its always the music. It’s like a new connection, and you begin moving forward with this new connection. Some producers i work with make so much music and different styles of music! it’s actually impossible to release all the music on the label and be « exclusive » – you have to understand producers need freedom. Different relationship always evolve, Truth are a great example again… They have their own label, they record for other labels and at the same time they fully represent Deep Medi This is a blessing, it’s all about all this good music getting out here! Some people are saying about Bukez Finezt: » He makes tear out music », « He made this », « He made that! » And, yeah he has, does and can… But actually have you listened to the same of his other side…? Bukez Finezt he’s.. he’s… oh my days! Obviously you can hear his mix downs, incredible. The creatively what he’s doing is great he’s on a different world. And like Egoless he plays only live sets and he’s hands down one of the best out there right now. He’s like a dub scientist. So to answer your question, it doesn’t matter where you come from, if i feel it, i feel it and i’ll have to act.

AZA: Next question is about ‘Topper Top’, 2 rewinds tonight… maybe 3! 7 or 8 in Medi 10… So this is the question : is there a story behind this tune? What is this story?

M: Well I can only tell it to my point of view. If you wanna know more you’ll have to ask Spryo, Teddy Bruckshot, Killa P and Lady Chann. We were at outlook in a deep medi boat party two years ago and the medi fam were playing back to back, two tracks each… and Kahn dropped this tune and it got 4 pull ups, everyone was going mad!! I said to Kahn : » What is that!!!? » So it’s Kahn’s fault! I thought the tune was by him, but he said it was a Spyro tune! So I tried to find a link to Spyro cause I didn’t know him and I found out that his agent works for the same agency then my agent. So I send his agent a contact in order to introduce myself and I if it was possible to have the track for cutting it. A few hours later, the track came back so I cut the dub and I’ve started playing it everywhere I could! And it’s funny because my label manager Steph, she had actually been speaking with Spyro’s booking agent for a long period of time so there was already a connection. Three weeks later we were in talks about releasing it. Spyro is a lovely guy, we’ve met each other by the music, by his music. Again, this is why I try to focus on the music.

AZA: You still cut dubs? In the same place?

M: Yes I do, always. And with Jason, yes. I am curious to know how different engineers work…to i’ve tried many.. a few years back I cut a dub with a mastering engineer in New York, he mastered many Hip-hop rappers albums including Jay-Z’s.. I was curious to see how he cut. It sounded great but it wasn’t cut like how we play it on sound system.

AZA: And what were the differences?

M: For me the main difference was the kick drum and baseline relationship. The kick was cutting through a lot more. Felt like the baseline has less drive overall as a result. I the basslines to drive.. but the kick still has got to punch through. Anyway, big up Jason Transition… dubs always sound on point!!! I’ve worked with a lot of engineers, a lot of different pressing plants, because different sound sometimes work better with different engineers.

AZA: Speaking of dub plates, there is a great thing which appeared with time on the web : it’s collection of dub plates rips. Some of yours are indredible : will you release some of your dub plates one day?

M: No, I probably don’t. To be honest with you I rarely listen to them anymore now.

[dubforms]

🙏

Truth @ Deep Medi, August 2023

[lucifer-the-fetus-eater]

you've heard of old man yaoi. now get ready for... weapon yuri

Sasha and medic's medi gun are in love.

[deez-nut-free-zone]

My fav deep dub artists:

Lampa

Mala

The Widdler

Von D

Egoless

Pinch

D-Operation Drop

Bukkha

Other notable artists who do some deep dub: Oxossi, Senncoria, Hypho, Ternion Sound, Truth, Cartridge, Monty, Black Carl!, NotLö, Caspa, Mungk, Pushloop, V.I.V.E.K., and many more

What's deep dubstep? recs?

ooooHoho FUCK yes. You have stepped into my wheelhouse, here we go:

To understand deep dub, you gotta understand the roots of dubstep. Dubbing a song was an art form invented in Jamaica in the 60s and 70s, where you would make a B side for a single by taking the vocal out, spacing the other tracks out with various effects boxes, and playing the mixing desk like its own instrument. It was the art of seeing how much you can remove and still have a great track

(if you recognize the beat but can't place it, it's the stalag riddim; the basis for Sister Nancy's hit single Bam Bam and many others)

In the late 90s in the UK, reggae influences in electronic music were strong. This is the peak of OG jungle, the origin of drum n bass. So lots of ppl were sampling reggae records, and the windrush generation had created a flourishing soundsystem party scene. Producers began to slow things down, and embraceing the halftime grooves, skanking, and subbass pressure from dub reggae. Mala, DMZ, Deep Medi Music, Benga, Skream, Caspa, Loefah, Code 9, all of these artists (even though some would go on to make more tear out, raging dubstep, it started like this) were making music for clubs with this laid-back, bassweight focused feel

Now, back at the time, they had tracks called 'tear out' dubstep, which is the style developed by the likes of Rusko, Coki, and Caspa (and later cribbed by Skrillex, Excision, and his ilk). These tracks were crazier, more midrange synth heavy, and more focused on heavy womps than subbass grooves. Here's a couple examples of early tear out:

In the 2010s, with the explosion of tear out sounds in Brostep and eventually Riddim, Deep Dubstep evolved as a conscious response to this saccharine maximalism. It brings back the focus on heavy subs to make soundsystems flex, spaced out effects experiments, and the minimalism from early Dub. It's groovy, it's trippy, it's dark, and it breathed new life into the culture of exclusive dubplates and vinyl only releases. It's beautiful. And only makes true sense on a heavyweight soundsystem

[iamlisteningto]

Loefah & Coki’s “Disco Rekah” / “All Of A Sudden

[medi-melancholy]

i’m fuckin crying man I JUST WANT REED 😭 WHAT IS HE TRYING TO TELL ME

[rh0mbus0fruin]

you can tell by the way certain animation reviewers talk (especially about the media they're discussing) that they used to be ex commentary/drama youtubers.

[sassysnowperson]

Sass Talks Books: Thank You for Listening, by Julia Whelan

Basic Plot: An audiobook narrator, who doesn't record romance books (anymore - she needed to break into the industry somehow), is given the financial opportunity of a lifetime...recording a romance book. It's a dual narration book, too, which means working with another narrator. Her recording partner quickly becomes one of the best perks of the project, warm and funny and *real* feeling, despite the fact they've never met. (They've never met, right?)

My thoughts: I really enjoyed this one. The author IS an audiobook narrator, writing a book about two audiobooks narrators, and I listed to the audiobook...narrated by the author. I thoroughly recommend that reading experience, by the way. There's a lot of little moments with the two talented voice actor characters slipping into different accents, talking about tone and inflection, and it's an absolute delight to hear the narrator delivering on the script she wrote for herself. As for the story itself, I'm not far enough into the romance world to know if this book deviates from the romance novel beats enough that it's drifted out of the category, but I can say that it was absolutely charming and enjoyable. And, that the changes made dulled the edges of the parts of romance I bounce off of the most while absolutely being a very loving send-up of the genre. The connection between the two people was very real, but it wasn't the only (or even, I would argue, the most important) relationship developing and changing in the book.

Every character felt connected in a complicated web of love and relationships with other people - it was a joy. And it was used to explore some toothy things that I normally don't get in a book this fun - grief, regret, how you deal with the losses you can't get back, how you rebuild a life. It stayed warm-hearted and kind as a book, but it didn't shy away from real fights, insecurities, and pain.

A handful of warnings to go along with that: the MC has lost an eye, and deals with ableism, and some negative self-perception. There's some diet-culture-based disordered eating for the MC's best friend (not displayed as a good thing). The MC's relationship with her dad has some brutal fights where there's emotional manipulation happening. There's also a real look at the complications of dementia - discussed below.

The protagonist's relationship with her grandmother is a key point of the story, and the grandmother is dealing with encroachment of memory loss and personality change that comes along with dementia. This part surprised me - I work with older adults in long-term care and lol, was not expecting that my professional life would be relevant to the situation. The author made a few errors with the care system in California (where our grandma is based, and where I work). But frankly, only a few, and the way the dementia progressed wasn't one of them. It was good, and heartbreaking, and one of my favorite parts.

Wow...I wrote a lot about this. Suppose that makes sense, considering it was my experience of the book itself. I expected something light and fun, and while I got it, there was depth there too that was a very welcome surprise.

[senascoop]

DREAMSCAPE ☁︎ M.LIST !

WELCOME to the DREAMSCAPE MINI ENHYPEN series— a collection of seven unique fanfics that blur the lines between fantasy, crime, comedy, and romance. Each story dives deep into intricate plots, so if you were hoping for simple FLUFF or SMUT, you might want to look elsewhere. But if you're here for thrilling twists, complex characters, and captivating worlds, you've come to the right place! BUCKLE UP; it's going to be a wild ride!

WORD COUNT MIGHT RANGE FROM 10K—30K,

MINORS, please steer clear of the SMUT fanfics. However, don't worry—you’re more than welcome to dive into the fluff stories! They’re just as captivating and enjoyable, offering all the heartwarming moments without the mature content. Enjoy responsibly!

IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN ANY OF THESE FICS, PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHICH ONE YOU'D LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN!

JUST REPLY WITH THE PREFERENCE, AND I’LL MAKE SURE TO KEEP YOU UPDATED. THANKS!

﹙ 🕊️ ﹚ ぃ ──── SHE HAS LOST EVERY CASE, HOW COULD SHE WIN MINE?

EXCUSE ME !

READ HERE

SUSPECT ! HEESEUNG × LAWYER ! AFAB READER

MATURE THEMES, LAW BASED & SMUT !

Heeseung is unexpectedly thrust into the center of a murder investigation, accused of killing an old school friend. The truth, however, runs deeper than it appears, leaving everyone questioning whether he's truly the suspect. Enter you, his defense lawyer, notorious for losing every case you take on. Against all odds, you're handed Heeseung's case, and let’s just say…it’s a recipe for disaster for both of you. As you dig deeper, unraveling layers of deception, you’ll have to confront your own doubts and insecurities. Will you be able to prove Heeseung's innocence, or will this case be another tally in your string of failures?

﹙ 🧊 ﹚ ぃ ──── DID I REALLY DESERVE TO BE CAUGHT UP WITH SUCH A TROUBLE?

OOPS, WRONG ERA !

READ HERE

TIME TRAVELLER ! JAY × STUDENT ! AFAB READER

20TH CENTURY AU, SLIGHTLY FUTURISTIC & FLUFF !

Jay was the epitome of a perfect student—charming, intelligent, and utterly dedicated. The only catch? He was a time traveler from the future, marooned in the 20th century and trying to blend in as a normal teenager. When you discovered his secret, you seized the opportunity. You blackmailed him into becoming your personal homework and assignment writer, using his advanced knowledge to help you ace your classes. Jay’s attempts to navigate high school life while fulfilling his unexpected new role provided endless amusement and challenges for both of you.

﹙ ☁️ ﹚ ぃ ──── WHY WOULD YOU SHOW UP WHEN I MOVED ON?

WINDS CHANGE ☁︎

READ HERE

EX ! JAKE × EX ! AFAB READER

ANGST & SMUT !

It's been five years since you and Jake called it quits, each going your separate ways. Life seemed fine—until the dreaded wedding invitation arrives from an old friend. Reluctantly, you decide to attend, only to find Jake, your ex, waiting there like a storm on the horizon, ready to turn your calm into chaos. With unresolved feelings and past memories looming, the wedding becomes a battlefield of witty exchanges, accidental encounters, and a slow unraveling of what truly ended between you two. Are the winds of change blowing in favor of a second chance, or will they only serve to remind you why you broke up in the first place?

﹙ 🍁 ﹚ ぃ ──── I KNOW IT'S MY FAULT, BUT I WANNA MAKE IT BETTER!

GET WELL SOON シ︎

READ HERE

RACER ! SUNGHOON × ORPHAN ! AFAB READER

MENTIONS OF CRIME & ACCIDENT, OVERALL FLUFF & CRACK !

You’ve always considered yourself a good person—kind, forgiving, and patient. But Sunghoon tested every bit of that. One reckless, drunken drive was all it took for him to flip your life upside down, leaving you temporarily confined to a wheelchair. The inconvenience was more than just physical; it was a wound to your pride and independence. Sunghoon, however, refused to walk away from his mistake. Guilt-ridden and determined to make amends, he became a constant presence in your life—covering your medical bills, offering you emotional support, and sticking around even when you wished he wouldn’t.

﹙ 🦄 ﹚ ぃ ──── CAN'T YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF BY YOURSELF?

LIKE PINK !

READ HERE

GUARDIAN ANGEL ! SUNOO × CLUMSY ! AFAB READER

FANTASY & PURE FLUFF !

You’ve always believed you were cursed with the "unlucky girl syndrome." From tripping on flat surfaces to losing your keys every other day, it seemed like misfortune followed you everywhere. But was it really a curse, or just bad luck? You never quite figured it out. When a guardian angel was sent from above, you hoped your luck would finally turn around. Instead, you got Sunoo—a messy, clumsy, and utterly unhelpful angel who seemed more like a walking disaster than a divine helper. All you could think of was asking God for a refund, because with Sunoo around, your life was about to get a lot more chaotic… and maybe a little brighter, too.

﹙ 🔥 ﹚ ぃ ──── I KNOW A TRICK TOO!

SIZZLES OF HIM ᯾

READ HERE

CLASSMATE ! JUNGWON × AFAB ! READER

FANTASY ELEMENTS, MAGICAL AU & SMUT !

There was always something about your quiet, mysterious classmate Jungwon that piqued your curiosity. You couldn't quite put your finger on it—until the day you accidentally peeked into his room and saw him hovering mid-air, surrounded by sparks of electricity. It all made sense then; he wasn't just your average student. Little did he know, you were hiding a secret of your own—one that mirrored his in more ways than one. Two forces of nature, each with powers as different as night and day, destined to collide. As they say, opposites attract, but in your case, they might just ignite.

﹙ 🍫 ﹚ ぃ ──── THIS MIGHT SOUND CRAZY BUT TRUST ME IT'S TRUE!

TIED UP IN YOU !

READ HERE

PHONE GUY ! NIKI × STUDENT ! AFAB READER

CRACK (?), PURE FLUFF !

Niki was a good guy, no doubt about it. The only problem? He was your phone. How, exactly, did your phone transform into this strikingly handsome guy? It was baffling, frustrating, and, honestly, a bit overwhelming. Here you were, trying to navigate a world where your device had somehow become a charming, infuriatingly attractive human being. And to make matters worse, he was as stubborn and endearing as any person you'd ever met.

﹙ 🍒 ﹚ ぃ ──── THANK YOU FOR READING!

Sena’s note: I’m not sure when I'll finish these seven fics, but I hope it’s soon. I’m unsure if anyone will be interested, but this was a preview of what’s coming.

main masterlist.

[peggyao3]

Relic - Pt. 9 "Bethlehem"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: 18+, smut, she/her AFAB FMC, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum and big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, Frank Herbert would frown, some politics, implied/referenced (child) abuse❗, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts❗, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable/Emotional/Possessive Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, implied/referenced cannibalism❗, Murder, Female rage, Teaching the Universe about Feminism, Angst with a Happy Ending

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

A/N: "How many pseudo deep titles for your chapters do you want?" … "Yes!" … "So we've got Eidolon, okay, fancy. Prometheus, uh-huh 🤨" … "It has a meaning I swear!" … "Rowing in Eden, what the fuck is that supposed to mean. Okay BETHLEHEM?! Shut uuppppp."

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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Analysis complete…

Uploading chemical compound to data bank.

630% more effective than known compounds that are tagged with 'contraceptive'.

Chance of conceiving: (0,0001±0,00003)%

Suggested action: Contact, Medi-Lead to discuss production and distribution.

"Is it done?!" Feyd's question answers itself when his woman gulps down the liquid from the ampule and stands up, looking at him like a kitten suddenly turned shy. She dares clasp her hands awkwardly in front of her hips as if she's forgotten all the angles from which he's already seen her.

Feyd pounces on her like a wild cat, hands under her thighs, yanking her up against him and launching them both onto the bed where he tears off his tunic and trousers and her shirt. Skin meets skin and Feyd is electrified, pushing her legs apart with his knees, mouthing against her neck and breasts with his pillowy lips.

"Are you all mine now?"

Her mouth replies "Yes!" And her body replies 'Oh God, yes, please!' when his fingers slide past her pubic mound and sink into her cunt, curling against her walls which are still slick and squishy despite the intermezzo. An inky smile begins to crawl over Feyd-Rautha's face when her eyes flutter shut and her head rolls back.

He may be in a hurry to finally fuck her, but he takes his sweet time, watching her face scrunch up with pleasure, fingers dancing over his arms as her pelvis rises and falls against the palm of his hand. Her eyes open, close, open, pupils dancing over his features like she's nervous to see him. She's so fucking cute, he could cry, he could eat her whole.

His cock brushes against her thigh, the head velvety and painted by a dollop of inky pre-cum at the slit. The sensation against her skin makes her gasp and she reaches down, grasping at his smooth, muscled thigh while his fingers continue to curl inside her. His lids fall halfway, blonde lashes fluttering and lit up by the golden glowglobe light. 

Feyd's hips buck, cock slipping against her leg. Then finally, she wraps her hand around him, squeezing where the shaft and head merge. He moans loudly and a little bit of saliva rolls over his bottom lip when she strokes him softly, way more softly than he deserves.

Suddenly, his woman stirs like she wants to get up and Feyd pins down her wrists with such unexpected harshness that she lets out a little yelp and her core rewards his manhandling with a needy clench.

"If you jump up and run away from me one more time, I'll tie you down, my darling." His slick fingers press threateningly against her wrist.

"Then I think I best ask you to go and sit this little guy somewhere else." She brushes her lips against his, then looks to the left where the stuffed animal sits on the other pillow of the double bed.

"Why?" He frowns.

"Well, I don't want him to watch." She smirks and Feyd can't help but snort because that's entirely stupid and he loves her so much, it hurts. "Go and sit him down on the vanity, please?" She frees her wrists by gently twisting them and hands him the stuffed animal. He accepts it almost reverently, making sure to grab it with the hand that isn't covered in sticky essence.

"Of course, my darling." Feyd climbs off the mattress, keeping an eye on his woman so she doesn't even think of slipping away or even closing her legs. Padding over to the vanity, he rediscovers the pale flowers he himself had deposited there. Beaming, he holds them up and spins around to face her, hiding his nose behind the white petals which exude a faintly sweet fragrance.

"Wait, you got me-? Flowers?" She raises herself on her elbows, eyes widening and her voice wavers like she's on the verge of tears.

"Yeah. I know they're not pretty like flowers from Caladan, but I-"

"They are beautiful!" Now her voice really is heavy with tears. "Come here." Needy arms are reaching for him and Feyd places flowers and plushie on the vanity so he can swiftly climb back into bed and crawl over her, immediately embraced by her arms and legs.

Feyd growls softly when her legs lock around his ass and she tugs him close, cock squished between their bellies, balls nuzzling her warm, slick cunt. One pale hand glides between their bodies in an attempt to fill her with his fingers once more but she says no , scraping her nails over the top of his back.

"Fuck me now, please?" Her heels press into the meat of his ass cheeks.

The na-Baron lets out a noise like a strangled animal and there's barely a second between the end of her question and him slipping the head of his cock between her folds, pushing at an angle that he knows is right because he's fucked her a hundred times already, only this times it is real.

As always, she wonders how it's ever going to fit, so her hips shy away from him, but there's nowhere to go and his thighs pin her open. In the dream it had been easier to process that her body can somehow sheathe such a monster. Now she is left gasping with surprise and pleasure when her entrance stretches open and embraces the obscenely thick head of Feyd's cock.

The pressure when he fills her is so delicious and all-consuming, her head rolls back and she bares her teeth, quickly shutting down the interface when her personal health assistant program kindly informs her about rising stress levels.

She wants to remind him to go slowly, but she also wants him all at once, doesn't want to wait for a second longer, so the grip of her legs around his hips tightens and she pulls him in, impaling herself on his length with a loud hiss. Feyd-Rautha is drawn into paradise and sounds of relief fall from his mouth like prayers when their pelvises come flush.

Feyd knows how to make her pain go away, rocking himself slowly against her core until hissing becomes moaning and her gaze zeroes in on him in a way that makes his stomach flutter, hips driving down against her pelvis, quicker, harder. The cries she makes are cries of rapture and the slapping of skin against skin is their background symphony.

His lips find hers, sloppy, yearning and beautiful.

They are so intimately close - disgustingly close , Feyd would have thought before he met her. There's not one inch between their bodies, no protective cuffs, spikes or toys to ensure that it's just sex . This is much more serious, this is making love, and Feyd's body is starved for it, soaking up the softness and warmth of her flesh, relishing the fact that she moans, not screams and scratches on his shoulders with pleasure, not pain.

He is so beautiful to her, so real , every inch of him is hers to touch, to worship and adore. Her mind is reeling, walls squeezing him and she can tell he is close, raspy groans turning deliciously high-pitched. Feyd presses his nose against her temple, bared teeth against her cheek in an attempt to ground himself.

Somewhere in his enraptured haze, he decides to bring a hand down, squeezing her waist and ass before creating an inch of space between their sweaty abdomens to stroke her clit with his thumb, which sends the rhythm of his rutting hips out of kilter.

"It's okay, don't stop~"

The sound of her voice, all disheveled and breathless, is enough to nearly throw him over the edge, so he bites at her throat, huffing and groaning. Doing as instructed, he leaves her clit alone, merely pinning her leg open with the free hand. She must be close too then. Perhaps he's hitting a spot inside just right, so he keeps going and the building climax nearly splinters him apart from within as he holds back, nearly crying as he drives down into her cunt.

"I c-can't hold back much longer," he admits and would have felt ashamed if it wasn't her. It's been two years without anything like this after all.

"Why would you hold back?" She mewls so sweetly, legs pulling him back down like she wants to drive him into madness.

"Oh God, wait~" Feyd keeps himself still against her tummy, eyes squeezed shut, cock and balls twitching but he manages to force back the cresting wave of release. When he retrieves his face from her neck and looks her in the eyes, his bottom lip is dewy with teeth marks.

Her core aches for more of the delicious drag of his cock, but even more so for his moans of relief. She wants to make him happy and superpose all the horror with bliss, nightmares with dreams, like they used to.

"I want you to cum first," Feyd pants, jaws clenching stubbornly. She can feel his length throbbing needily against her walls.

"I don't know if I can…"

"What?! Why not?" Feyd's hairless brows furrow and his heart thunders against his ribs the unpleasant kind of way.

"I'm nervous," she laughs and wraps her arms around his neck.

"Why, why are you nervous?"

"Because you're so pretty, I can't believe you're actually real."

That knocks the wind out of his sails and when she nudges his hips with her tightly wound legs, he naturally begins rocking into her again, mewling softly because even that is enough to bring him so dangerously close. "I'm not pretty."

"Yes, you are. Come, Feyd, please…" Her feet glide down the back of his thighs and her hands down his hard, muscled back and up the swell of his ass, squeezing his flexing cheeks. 

"D-Don't say things like that, ahhh~ "

He tries to hold back, he really does, but she kneads his ass and pulls his face into the crook of her neck, lips on his temple, and then one hand slips between his thighs from behind, to squeeze his balls, and he can't help the burst of euphoria that overcomes him. Groaning breathlessly, he spills himself with short thrusts, decorating her neck with saliva as his mouth hangs open.

Every part of him feels so warm and embraced and she doesn't even complain about all of his weight that rests on her. Being caressed so sweetly by her dancing fingertips on his back and scalp, he could fall asleep right now, but not before he has completed his mission, which is to make her sing his name while he drinks up his own cum.

He moves down her body and she can't hold him back, slippery and determined like a pale serpent. His cheek and mouth nuzzle her puffy, throbbing cunt like she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and she can barely watch. It's hard to believe that this enraptured gaze really is for her.

Feyd's tongue rolls out and he holds up her shaky thighs by the knee pits. Delving between her puffy lips to taste his own seed, his tongue wriggles deep into her squelching hole before he pulls out and peeks up expectantly. Worried, her gaze lingers on the inky substance which he presents on his tongue like he's proud of how much it is. "Wait, back then, didn't you s-say something about chemicals in your-?"

"Yeah." He swallows and shows off his tongue, pink again. "Could poison you in the long run, but the supplements in your meals should counter that. You also got crushed iodine tablets in them to help against the radiation. Keeps you from losing your hair, like the rest of us."

"Well now that's good to know," she chuckles nervously and lets Feyd return to his meal, though her thoughts circle around whether there is a Geiger counter among the cryo pod's standard equipment, so she could get an idea of how high the nuclear radiation in this atmosphere really is. The temptation is great to switch on the interface and access the inventory list, but Feyd suckles hard on her clit, forcing her attention back to his head between her thighs and the strong fingers that keep them parted.

Right.

So, she lets her head roll back, relaxing, curling her toes in the air while Feyd's tongue circles the tender bud. The lewdest thing about him between her thighs is the little sounds he makes, the wet squelching of his tongue slipping over damp flesh, the quick huffs when he gets excited to feel her spine arch off the mattress and her pelvis move against his mouth in small circles.

Pleasure rises, then falls, rises , then falls and she screws her eyes shut to focus on nothing but the drag of his tongue over her bundle of nerves and the long fingers that enter her slowly and pump in and out at a sweet pace. She writhes, clawing at his scalp, but the delicious summit always remains one step away, one lick, one nudge, one final liberating touch.

It is her own mind, sabotaging her with a maelstrom of thoughts.

"Just let go," Feyd-Rautha hums, noticing her defeated huff as her pelvis sinks down and her fingers slacken. He kisses all around the puffy flesh so that her hips jump. It pleases him to see her so sensitive, so he proceeds, trailing feather-light lines around her cunt with the very tip of his tongue.

"S'not that easy," she slurs, out of breath. "As a woman, you kind of have to, ahh , concentrate on it for a moment. Oh, Feyd~ "

"Mmmphh!" He lets out a little noise, tongue busy with drawing patterns on her cunt, relishing how her body contorts when he targets the swollen, little nub and how her muscles begin to shake. The air is deliciously heavy and thick with the scent of sex and perspiration. What he doesn't notice is how the time passes, only when his woman pushes against the top of his head like he wants him to stop.

"Your tongue must be getting tired." Her voice is small and apologetic.

"Do you think there's anything that I'd rather do or a place I'd rather be?" Feyd realizes she's underestimating where the limits of his body are. He's taken spiked whips and broken limbs and bled from every orifice. He can take lying on his stomach for an hour, feasting on his soon-to-be-wife's cunt. "Lie back down. I'm eating."

The coil within her abdomen quivers upon the lewd words and when Feyd's equally lewd mouth returns to her clit, her knees lift against her chest from how well he suckles the bundle of nerves into a vacuum, tapping it rhythmically with his tongue. Her nails claw at his scalp, his ear, spine arching. His nose is pressed against her pubic mound and suddenly she wonders - Isn't the scratchy hair there uncomfortable for him?

Ah - And there it goes again, the build-up toppled like a brittle tower made of toy blocks. And because of such a mundane thought no less.

Her eyes blink open and her gaze finds the balcony door, roiling chimneys in front of a darkening sky. How bad is the radiation out there? Her thoughts jump with the speed of light, to space travel, to the past, to the future, to the web of dangers all around. Perilous foreboding crawls into her like the radiation, unnoticeable until the cancerous results ravage your body.

"You were close. What happened?" Feyd's pale, pretty face peeks up at her and his nose and chin are flushed from rubbing against her hair. He looks so innocent like that, with the golden light catching on his lashes and his lips puffy and red.

"I- I'm sorry, I  thought about it too hard."

"You're always thinking. Don't." Reassuringly, he squeezes her sweat-damp thighs and delves back down. How many more times will he try?! She feels more guilty with every attempt.

"That's like telling me not to worry or not to miss home."

"Wait, is that what you're thinking about? Home?" The tiniest trace of bitterness laces Feyd's tone. What else does he need to do to have her undivided attention?

"Actually, I didn't until right now. Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't think I can finish this time." The silence that follows is awful. Feyd's features freeze up, as do his softly squeezing fingers. 

"Oh," he forces past the terrible lump in his throat. It's hard not to take that personally. Feyd hasn't always cared about making his playthings cum, but when he did, he was never not successful. And that's not just a plaything, that's his wife . Why would she even want him if he can't pleasure her anymore?! 

He's out of practice, evidently. He shouldn't have shunned his poor pets all the years.

"You're not angry, are you?" His woman sits back and folds her legs beneath her body.

"No…" Feyd does the same, sitting  back on his haunches, cock half-hard across his thigh. Never ever has he felt awkward during or after sex but now he doesn't know where to put his hands and eyes. Immediately, she can tell how rejected he feels, looking like a lost little boy who's building a wall around himself. So, she crawls towards him on hands and knees and grabs his hand.

"I'm just-" She scrambles for words. "I think I can't stop thinking because I'm just scared." Her voice breaks at the end and Feyd notices the tears rising to her eyes, glittering beads that cling to her lower lashes as she tries to hide her face away.

"Oh, no, no, no, hey~" Without thinking twice, he envelopes her in his arms and lets both of them fall sideways against the pillow where she snuggles up to him, cheek pressed against his smooth pectorals, slinging one leg around his hip so their cores and bellies are flush.

Her tears paint his chest and her hands squeeze his back, searching for comfort in places that only her hands have ever touched without a hunger for harm. Feyd whispers sweet nothings into her hair, how everything will be alright, even though his own heart clamors with fear.

Clouds pile up like monsters in the sky and while the volcanos below send shivers through the earth and thunder roars above, acid rain begins to pelt against the windows.

Night has fallen when he kisses her good night at her door, like the previous nights. His day begins early. Hers doesn't. She is free to study as she pleases while Feyd trains in the ring like he could deliver himself from evil, hoping the more manly he looks, the less it will spark his uncle's appetite in the afternoon.

She looks at him pleadingly and a sadness paints her eyes a dull color. One hand cups his cheek softly and he closes his eyes, leaning into her palm.

"And you're sure you're not angry because I… You know?"

"I promise, I'm not angry." Blue eyes blink open and she looks into them like little seas of clear water, finding hurt and confusion at the bottom. Softly, her thumb traces patterns on his cheek

The relief to have her back has twisted into fear so quickly, like a dark, ugly vise around his heart. What if she won't love him anymore, now that she knows who he is, where he is and what he is? Anxiety swells and crests like the evening storms and dreaded words pour out of him. Reality feels so much more fragile than dreams. He should have told her sooner.

"I love you."

"Feyd!" Her face lights up and dullness becomes color as if ignited from within. "I love you!"

The kiss that follows is not gentle, but his eyes are, holding all the vulnerability that his mouth and hands don't. When they break away from each other, he looks almost sad, the way his lips turn downwards, as if she was sending him away.

But he doesn't have to go. She hopes he knows that he can sleep here, that she'd love to hold him to her chest every night like the treasure he is to her, but she understands that the ghosts that haunt him aren't exorcized so easily. Even in their dreams, they've always been awake and she's never had the privilege to trace the curves and edges of his peaceful face as he sleeps.

Feyd has never slept next to anyone in his life, because to be asleep is like being prey in a trap. And he trusts her, he does, but what if he whines and cries in his sleep? What if he rams the knife under his pillow into his love at night, because he mistakes her for the gluttonous beast that has painted his childhood with poison?

What if the beast comes to visit at night? He hasn't come for many years, not to his room at least, but what if he does, what if, what if? Feyd would rather not his woman lay next to him if such a visit were to happen.

It is better to sleep alone, and so he pulls away from his darling's warmth, hoping that the next time he wakes up, she will still be real.

The little device - a compact block of metal - clicks steadily in her hand as she aims it at the dark, polluted night sky, it clicks so fast that her heart starts hammering almost just as fast. The Geiger counter shows 1,000 μSv/hour and her bones chill with horror, knowing that invisible demons are wreaking havoc in her flesh right now, shattering molecular bonds at will. Gamma rays.

Not enough to make her drop dead the next minute, but enough to make her cells grow tumorous if sustained over a long period of time. And she's been out here all afternoon, committing a slow and unintentional suicide. Pointing the Geiger counter at the tar-black puddle on the balcony floor, the value shoots up to 30,000 μSv/hour and the click-click-click becomes a steady drone.

Mortified, she stumbles back into her room and slams the door. What is this toxic wasteland of a planet? How does anything live and grow, let alone the pretty flowers that are now in a vase on the coffee table? Let alone humans?  

Here, the clicking slows from an angry wasps' nest to a heartbeat. 200 μSv/hour. The walls are thick and she vows to never go outside again, unless in her multi-purpose suit that's still buried in cargo compartment one. It offers insulation against cold and heat and limited radiation protection. Would it be very dramatic of her to wear it inside, helmet and all, and never take it off again?

Suspiciously, she aims the device at the flowers, but the frequency remains as it is.

It almost makes her laugh, how right she was to assume all the years that her Feyd's lack of hair came from radiation, except that this is not chemotherapy. This is a planet's entire atmosphere. The cloud machinery above gives birth to radioactive decay, sending deadly little hailstones down to the crust of earth that kill any organic life that hasn't adapted.

How do the Harkonnens do it? Do they die young? But there were older men among the troops at the spaceport and not a sign of degradation on the pale, hairless faces, no missing limbs, no crippled backs. Perhaps evolution has already played its part and only the fittest have procreated, only the fittest infants haven't died from radiation sickness in the crib. The Harkonnens are clinging like a pestilence to the planet they have polluted.

No matter the crushed iodine tablets in her meals, she is not like them. Her cells are not like theirs. But is it so unlikely to assume that medicine has evolved in this new universe, this archaic future that has one foot in the middle ages and the other among the stars? Feyd had spoken so lightly of the radiation…

The engineer nearly drops the Geiger counter when the door clicks and three white shadows slink inside, female from the looks of them, Harkonnens. But also not, she realizes at second glance. Their scleras are blacker than black and their teeth pointed and inky like Feyd's, only their tongues and gums are black too.

She points the clicking device at them like a weapon and when one of them hunches her back and hisses like a snake with bared fangs and soulless eyes, she knows they aren't human. The plastic of their gowns creaks as they move forward, cornering her slowly like a pack of hyenas.

"Hello?" She asks, gripping her device tighter, and one of the creatures dares to laugh.

Not friends - enemies. Definitely enemies.

They had hoped to get the stranger in her sleep, when she's defenseless, but she's awake and so they blink with uncoordinated hostility, hovering in her periphery. Black eyes study the clicking weapon in her hand.

"Who are you?" The hairy stranger asks.

"We have no names," one of them replies with a guttural tremor to her voice. Speaking Galach always strains their throats.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She swallows. "I think everyone deserves a name." The three women-creatures seem neither moved nor impressed by the cautious peace offer. One of them begins to scent the air with her nose craned, finding the flowers in the vase to be reason enough to hiss with distaste.

"He doesn't play with us like he used to." The second one wastes no time and the third one moves sideways, slinking closer to the bed. Darkness swathes the room, but the creature's feet aren't bent as they should be, digitigrade like raptor claws.

Horror and heartbreak screw her fingers tight around the Geiger counter which seems to be the only thing that keeps the hyenas at bay. The edge of the Sarcophagus digs into her calves, compartments still unfolded because she hadn't expected visitors past midnight.

"Maybe we should play with you and see how he likes that."

Her eyes dart to the creature near the bed, sniffing, claws clicking on the tiles. She wills her voice to be cold like the cutting edge of a blade and deeply regrets that she has no weapon in her pocket like Feyd. "I don't know any games that you would enjoy."

"Oh, but we do."

The first one grins with inky fangs, but it is the third one that breaks her reserve in half like a twig. A pale face bends down to the stuffed animal on the pillow, sniffing. The relic barges past the creature in the middle and grabs the third one by the sinewy shoulder, yelling with all the rage of all the years: "Get the fuck away from my things!" 

Her voice doesn't work like the Bene Gesserit's, no compelling nudge, no control over her opponents, but the hyenas are still taken by surprise when the stranger roars.

The nameless creature spins around, rolling her shoulder, launching a clawed hand at the woman's chest, so she staggers backwards in pain, nearly tripping if not for another pair of cold hands that catch her from behind, talons piercing her shirt and her flesh. Without thinking, she lunges backwards over her shoulder and smacks the clicking device into the creature's face, crushing cartilage beneath the metal's edge. Blood slips over her hand and it is impossible to tell the liquid's color in the dark.

"HELP! HELP ME!" She screams and there's turmoil in the hallway.

Everything she is and owns has been violated since she woke up - her autonomy, her property and now even her flesh, bones and skin. Foolishly she had hoped everything would be better on Giedi Prime, but that hope is ground to dust now that six hands are tearing on her body.

The door slams open.

"My Lord, I'm sorry, they were so convincing. I really thought you had sent them to prepare the-"

Feyd pushes past the stammering guard, clad in only his nightwear, barefoot. "Out! Out! Out!" He stomps towards the huddled group of claws, teeth and flesh like a raging bull and his three pets scatter in all directions, whimpering like kicked dogs as they sprint out the door.

His woman stands with her knees bent, hair and clothes in disarray. Feyd's steps slow down before he reaches her. He can't breathe.

She almost smacks him too with the bloody device.

"What the fuck was that?" She sobs and Feyd seems to have no answer for her, so she screams at the top of her lungs: "What the fuck was that, who are they?!" 

"They're no one." Feyd snaps out of it, but his expression has already told her everything she would have never believed, had she not seen it. His hands reach for her and she realizes they're trembling like hers. "Where did they get you?! You're bleeding. My darling-"

"I'm fine!" She tears herself away from him. "I'd still rather bleed out than die from radiation sickness, so don't bother." The Geiger counter clicks incessantly, so she switches it off and slams it back into the compartment where it belongs.

"They will be punished," Feyd vows, chasing after her. He goes down on his knees, but she's already standing back up, tears on her cheeks, rage in her eyes.

"I don't care what you do with your bio-engineered girlfriends!"

Feyd freezes and blinks. She's never talked to him in a tone like that and it doesn't feel right, no, she's not supposed to raise her voice at him, she's supposed to love him and comfort him and be the one who doesn't hate him.

He doesn't even deny it , she bitterly thinks.

"They saw the sarcophagus! Do you know what this could mean?"

"They don't even know what they saw, they're dumb animals."

"Is that what you call your-" She wants to say whores, sluts, but it's not their fault, it's his. Jealousy is a bitter beast. "Your partners?"

"No, no, no, wait, they're not my partners, they're just- They were my pets, but I-"

"Your pets!" She bursts out laughing, hysterical, and Feyd stands there like a doused cat in the acid rain. "I thought you only dreamed of me …" Her voice dwindles to a pathetic whimper. "That's what you said."

And maybe he did, but that never meant he didn't have other women in real life. 

"And I did, I do! Wait- Don't look at me like that. I haven't touched them, I swear it to you."

He will get rid of them. He will feed them the dumb, treacherous guard as their last supper and then get rid of them, limb by limb, for hurting his wife. But his wife looks unimpressed and a terrible feeling lurches towards him, like she doesn't believe him.

"You are…" She shakes her head, expression grim. Why is she shaking her head like that?!

"I am what? What?!" So full of fear, full of rage (one thing implies the other), Feyd almost draws his knife.

"You need to leave."

Her word pierces his heart like a fine blade. He's only just told her he loves her, a few hours ago. "Do you hate me now?"

"I'm upset right now, so just leave!"  

There is someone lurking behind his eyes and she can't tell if it's a hurt, little boy or a demon about to burst out of its cage. So, she begs him to leave and he finally does, shoulders drawn up, head swaying like a skinned viper's.

He does draw his knife then, but only once he's stepped out into the hallway and the door whirrs shut at his back. The guard knows what awaits him and so do his pets, useless husks of the past, useless gifts from his uncle, he should have killed them sooner, but he hadn't dared.

Behind the door (and she doesn't believe this door means any safety anymore, considering anyone seems to be allowed to come and go), she kneels in front of her Sarcophagus and unlocks the technical compartment. The medical assistant kindly warns her via her interface that her blood pressure is too high and her body temperature is raised. She ignores it, closing the pop-ups that urge her to access the BioChem segment for its medical supplies and disinfectant.

If this is who she's dealing with, she will need a proper weapon, something more efficient than a little multi-tool knife or a now bloodied Geiger counter to defend herself against the threats that lurk in this nightmare of a new world.

The technical compartment unfolds and here is where she feels at home, here are all the tools she knows. But the item she wants to print tonight doesn't require her technical know-how, and thank God for that, because her sight is still blurry with tears. Via her interface, she flicks through the blueprints until she finds the object of her desire. Compact. Lethal. With a 13 round magazine.

Initiating printing process…

Waiting for materials.

She slots one of the plastic cartridges into the 3d-printer and the machine buzzes to life. At the very least, she will never run out of plastic on Giedi Prime.

Slowly, her heart stops hammering with fear, and when the adrenaline abates, only heartache remains.

Who is the man she fell in love with 24,000 years ago?

The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

- The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats

A/N: You thought we were done with the angst? You need to pry the angst out of my cold, dead hands 😩 And also this was for all the girlies who have a hard time ✨letting go✨ because their mind won't shut up 😔

TAG LIST:

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted

[lulublack90]

Prompt 13 - Moon

@wolfstarmicrofic October 13, word count 250

Sirius had never tracked the moon before. He’d never seen the point. But over the last few months, he’d noticed something odd. Remus always seemed to be sick or visiting his sick mother when the moon was full. 

Remus had excused himself earlier, mumbling something about a stomach ache, and disappeared through the portrait hole. Sirius had waited until the rest of the castle was sleeping and, borrowing James’s cloak, snuck down to the silent hospital wing. 

He checked every bed and the private rooms at the back twice. Remus was not in the hospital wing. He ended up waiting the rest of the night, falling asleep on one of the visitor chairs in the corner, just in case Remus had gone for a wander. 

He was startled awake when Remus stumbled in, held up by Madam Pomfrey. He watched in horror as Madam Pomfrey bandaged the deep wounds spread across Remus’s body.

“Take your potion, dear,” Madam Pomfrey said gently as she patted Remus’s arm and drew the curtains around his bed. Sirius waited until the medi-witch was out of sight before he snuck behind the curtains. He stared at his sleeping friend. He looked exhausted like he’d been awake all night. 

It took him longer to put all the pieces together than he cared to admit. But even though he was almost completely certain that his sweet, quiet friend was a werewolf, he wasn’t scared at all. He was still Remus after all, but now somehow even cooler.  

[ribbonreaper]

Emi’s Scrapbook

This is my new Scrapbook! My first entry is of the Witch diet by @honeysugarfree (all of their diets are amazing)

I have encoded all the text, here’s what it says without the code:

Header: Witch Diet

Text in the heart:

Text on the left: Rumours tell of a witch living in the cottage in the deep forest. They whisper of a skeletal hand and its expert control over the occult. Some whisper in fear, others with reverence. None know the very witch is living among them.

Text in the heart: Add small positivity charms when you cook or bake. Eat mostly herbs and Plants, Stew, Soup, Pie and Potatoes.

Text in the middle: Break your fast with a single magical berry. Your meal ought to be as well crafted as your practise: charted meticulously and exactly.

Text on the bottom right: Most Important: Don’t get caught! If they catch you, you will burn at the stake. In order to contain the energy needed for spells, you must abstain from consuming external Energy. It is natural and mediative this way.

All the credits for the text go to honey, i’ve changed a couple of things up to better fit the spacing though.

If anyone wants a tutorial for either the basic scrapbook or the code i used for this, come talk to me! I’d be happy to help

[petitemistletoe]

S.O.S. She's In Disguise

Part Two to She-Wolf

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin, Potter!Reader

Warnings: smut and angst!

Word Count: 4.8K+

A/N: I had to do a deep dive into Beauxbatons and all I can say is I wish we got more Beauxabatons and Durmstrang content because they're both phenomenally interesting. Also the James Potter in She-wolf absolutely eats up the James Potter in Grudges! There were a few of you who asked to be tagged that you could not be :( so sorry! If I left you off the taglist please let me know :)

“What do we do?” Peter asked, wringing his hands. 

“You two get Remus back to the shack. I’ll try to carry her to the hospital wing.” James put on his authoritative voice but everyone could tell he was incredibly rattled. 

“Do you want one of us to help you?” Sirius asked but James shook his head, picking you up gently and hoisting you over his shoulder. 

“No, no. Take the cloak and go. Madame Pomfrey should be down here any minute you have to go now.” James was not able to hide the quiver in his voice. 

“Okay. We’ll see you soon.” Peter nodded at James before helping Sirius support Remus back to the shrieking shack. 

You woke up as James was setting you down on a bed in the hospital wing. 

“Don’t try to talk, it’s alright,” James said when he saw your eyes widen, “Madame Pomfrey will be back in a few minutes. I filled her in on everything but you need your rest.”

“You know?” You croaked, accepting the water from James and soothing your scratchy throat. 

“That you’re a werewolf? Yes, I worked that out what you stumbled out of the woods.” James pursed his lips and you could tell that he was trying to hard to keep his voice level. 

“I imagine you have some questions, then.” You said, trying to keep your own voice steady as well. 

“Yes. But you can rest first if you’d like.” 

“No, no. We can talk now.” You sat up straight in the hospital bed and smoothed out the blanket that was laid out in front of you. 

“When exactly did you become a werewolf?” He asked. His nails were digging into the palms of his hands. 

“Last year. Beauxbatons has a requirement for outdoor education for all wizards and witches and I’d chosen the option of solo fitness survival. I failed the first round of solo fitness survival so I apparated to a random forest last summer to practice. I did not pay attention and it was during the full moon and I was attacked by one of Greyback’s pack. I barely survived and when I apparated back home I splinched myself pretty badly. My parents knew they couldn’t take me to a hospital because I would be forced to register myself immediately. My mum called your mum and she was able to stitch me up and then was sworn to secrecy. The medi-witch at Beauxbatons tried to help me as much as she could but she’s never dealt with this kind of thing before. Then your mum mentioned in an owl a few months ago that Madame Pomfrey had some experience in this field so I went down yesterday to try to find more information but there were too many people in the hospital wing so we did not have any privacy. I ran into the woods last night and thought that I’d be able to pull myself into the hospital wing in the morning and get Madame Pomfrey’s help then. I knew that Madame Pomfrey’s experience must have come from a student who was also in hiding but I had no idea it was going to be your friend Remus. I also still don’t understand why you were there?” You took a deep breath as you realized you hadn’t taken one breath the entire time you were speaking. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” James looked deflated as he put his hand on top of yours, “I was there because Sirius, Peter, and I are all animagi. We became unregistered animagi to help Remus during the moons. They make his moons easier, having other animals to run around with  and he doesn’t have to be stuck in the shack.” 

“Oh James,” you bit your lower lip hard to stop yourself from tearing up, “Remus is so lucky to have friends like you. The moons can be so terribly lonely.” 

“I wish you didn’t have to go through this,” James said, finally breaking. He laid his head in your lap and sobbed. You just ran your fingers gently through James’ hair until his sobs were reduced to a few sniffles. The curtains were pulled open and Madame Pomfrey stepped in, pulling the curtain closed behind her. 

“How are you feeling, Ms. Potter?” She replenished your water and ran her hand soothingly over your forehead. 

“Tired.” You said with a small smile. 

“Of course you are. Take this sleeping draught. Your parents will be coming by later and meeting with Professor Dumbledore. Will you be staying, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes I will. Is Remus awake?” James asked, standing and shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“Yes, he is. He’s supposed to rest so make it quick, Mr. Potter.” Madame Pomfrey left after she made you drink the rest of the draught and you drifted off to sleep. 

James made his way over to Remus’ bed where he was engaged in rapid conversation with Sirius. He was only able to catch the tail end of what Sirius was saying, 

“-That explains why you were so attracted to her. It was the wolf instincts and-”

“James!” Remus cut off Sirius off when James pulled the curtain back. 

“Alright Moony?” James asked, taking the seat next to Sirius’. 

“Yeah, yeah. How’s your cousin?” Remus asked.

“She’s alright. My aunt and uncle are coming to meet with Dumbledore but neither of us know what it’s specifically about.” James sighed. 

“Are you okay?” Sirius asked. 

“I just…I don’t get why she didn’t tell me. We tell each other everything.” James shook his head. 

“You didn’t tell her about being an animagus.” Remus offered. 

“That was different.” James thought about it for a moment before looking back at Sirius and Remus, “You two were talking about attraction and wolf instincts. What the hell is that about?”

“I think it’s probably time for me to go back to bed!” Remus said quickly. 

“Alright. I’m going to see if I can catch my aunt and uncle before they see Dumbledore.” James said with a sigh and left Remus and Sirius on their own. 

“That was close.” Sirius said once he heard the door to the hospital wing shut behind James. 

“Definitely.” Remus nodded. 

“How are you feeling?” Sirius asked. 

“Honestly, the best I’ve felt in a long time. The moon was invigorating rather than draining.” Remus sighed again, thinking about the uncomfortable, awkward implications. 

“You should talk to her.” Sirius suggested.

“Yeah…maybe I will.” Remus said with a small shake of his head. 

✰

When you woke up again, your father was leaning over you, rubbing your forehead gently. 

“Hey,” you said softly, blinking the sleep out of your eyes. 

“Hello darling, I’ve heard that you’ve had quite a night.” Your father said with a sad smile on his face.

“That’s an understatement.” You said, weakly. You pushed yourself up on your shoulders and saw your mother, your Aunt Effie, your Uncle Fleamont, and James were all sitting around your bedside. 

“Have some more water, love,” Aunt Effie poured a goblet for you and held it up to your lips. You drank gratefully, not realizing until the present moment how dehydrated you had been. 

“Professor Dumbledore will be coming down in a few moments to talk. I’m not exactly sure what he wants but I’m sure he will help with the situation. James shared with us that you know about Remus. Your parents said you do not want to register with the ministry, is that correct?” Uncle Fleamont pushed his glasses up further up his nose as he explained the situation. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “my life will be ruined if I register. I…I don’t want that.” 

“Of course. Then we’ll make that clear to Albus.” Uncle Fleamont said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world. 

“Thank you,” you croaked, “for all being here. I…I don’t know what I do without all of you.”

“We’re your family.” James said, grabbing your hand and giving it a tight squeeze. You nodded and accepted another large gulp of water as you heard the door to the hospital wing open and the deep, calm voice of Albus Dumbledore say,

“Thank you, Poppy. Just that bed over there?” 

“Yes sir,” Madame Pomfrey replied. Your mother stood and pulled the curtain back for Professor Dumbledore to enter. 

“Hello Mrs. Potter, Mr. Potter. Oh, Euphemia, Fleamont, I was not expecting to see you two as well.” Professor Dumbledore bowed his head respectfully as he entered the room. 

“Hello Albus. We thought it best that we come to help with our niece at this time.” Uncle Fleamont said, standing to shake hands with Professor Dumbledore. 

“Of course. Ms. Potter I trust that you are recuperating well.” Professor Dumbledore set his bright blue eyes on you. You nodded. 

“Yes, Professor Dumbledore. I want to apologize for any alarm I may have caused.” You responded. 

“Yes that is something I would like to discuss. I have no problems with the young Ms. Potter finishing her schooling here at Hogwarts where Madame Pomfrey can better care for her. However, Ms. Potter, I am sure you are aware of the ministry’s registry for werewolves.” Dumbledore said. He was speaking perfectly calmly but there was something off-putting about his statement. 

“She will not be registering. Just like Remus.” James said, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. 

“Is that how you feel, Ms. Potter?” Dumbledore asked. 

“Yes sir.” You nodded. 

“I would be remiss if I did not highlight how seriously the ministry takes such affairs. There are severe implications that are in place for witches and wizards who fail to register.” Dumbledore said, placing one of his hands on your bedpost. 

“She is quite sure of her decision, Albus.” Uncle Fleamont stood so he was eye-level with Dumbeldore. 

“You know as well as I do, Albus, that the registry is discriminatory and the way the ministry has treated magical creatures has been nothing short of barbaric.” Aunt Effie said, placing her hand over yours and giving it a light squeeze. 

“I will have Professor McGonagall bring the sorting hat over and then we will set up your schedule and accommodations. I understand, Ms. Potter, that you were Head Girl of your house at Beauxbatons?” Dumbledore diplomatically changed the subject. 

“Yes sir, I was. I was also in Ombrelune house at Beauxbatons. I believe the closest house to it would be Gryffindor.” You said, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly. 

“Ah, Ms. Potter, the houses of Beauxbatons do not directly correspond to the houses of Hogwarts. I will arrange with your future head of house for a prefect position for you as we already have a head boy and girl. If you would be more comfortable, you may stay in James’s dorm this evening, as I understand it has been quite a weekend for you.” Dumbledore left without saying much else. Your parents and aunt and uncle wanted to stay for longer but you sent them off, promising to write and telling them not to worry, the Christmas holiday was just two months away. 

Remus, Sirius, and Peter joined you and James as you waited for Professor McGonagall to come back with the sorting hat. 

“Here,” Peter said, thrusting a wrapped package into your hand, “it’s a chocolate frog. Moony always says they make him feel better after a moon.”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded, munching on his own chocolate frog, “chocolate makes everything better.”

“Thanks Peter,” you said, patting the boy’s hand lightly, “so I take it you forgive me for the broomstick incident.”

“Never! I don’t care if you are a werewolf.” Peter laughed. But the word hung heavy in the air. Werewolf. You looked down at your lap.

“Nice going Wormtail.” Sirius elbowed Peter hard in the stomach.

“Hey! I didn’t mean anything by it.” Peter grabbed at his stomach and glared at Sirius.

“No, you never mean anything. Do you?” Sirius retorted. 

“Tell us more about the houses at Beauxbatons.” James interjected, sending a look Peter and Sirius’ way. 

“There are three houses: Papillionlise, Ombrelune, and Bellefeuille. Papillionlise is the house of kindness and good nature. Ombrelune, my house, is the house of ambition, curiosity, and logic. Bellefeuille is the house of bravery, sensitivity, and compassion. Everyone wants to be in Ombrelune and we have a little rivalry with the Bellefeuille students.” You explained. 

“Ambition and logic?” Remus asked, “That sounds like Slytherin.”

“There’s no way that you’ll be sorted into Slytherin. She’s a Potter. All Potters are Gryffindors.” James said with a sense of finality in his voice. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being sorted into Slytherin.” A new voice said. It was Lily, carrying a tray of sandwiches that must have been from dinner. 

“Cheers Lily.” You said with a grin, practically shoving an entire sandwich into your mouth. 

“What are you doing in the hospital wing?” Lily asked, “Remus, you’re out of bed early. Feeling better already?” 

“Uh, yeah, well…you see…” James was searching for an excuse but you just shrugged. 

“I’m a werewolf.”

“Oh!” Lily almost dropped the tray.

“You can’t just go telling anyone.” James scolded you.

“Lily isn’t anyone. She knows about Remus and I didn’t want to be a secret between you and your girlfriend, James. Besides, you’ve gone on and on about how smart Lily is, she would have figured it out herself eventually. Lily, I trust you won’t tell anyone?”

“No, no. Of course not. Are you all right?” Lily asked, immediately sitting at your bedside and grabbing a cool soaked rag and placing it on your forehead. 

“I’m fine, thank you.” You said with a small smile. You filled Lily in on your new attendance at Hogwarts.

“Like I said before, there’s nothing wrong with being sorted into Slytherin. One of my good friends is a Slytherin and so is Sirius’s entire family!” Lily said, glaring at James. 

“That’s not much of an argument.” Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“I can’t protect her if she’s sorted into Slytherin, Lily.” James narrowed his eyes, “Those Slytherins are bigots and you know it.”

“It’s not very safe for Remus in Gryffindor either. The way werewolves are seen in the eyes of the wizarding world is not only a Slytherin problem.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest.

“Respectfully, Evans, stay out of this.” James said, coolly. 

“There are many fine and brave wizards in Slytherin. Don’t listen to James.” Lily told you, 

“If this is about Snivellus again, so help me Evans.”

“Fine,” Lily stormed out of the hospital wing. 

“So much for coming between you and Lily.” You said sheepishly. James was still seething with anger but he took a deep breath and said, 

“I’m going to go for quick walk. Sirius, call me when McGonagall gets here.” James stormed out of the hospital wing as well.

“Is Slytherin really that bad?” You asked Sirius, Remus, and Peter.

“A lot of dark wizards, most of my family included, come from Slytherin.” Sirius said with a sigh. 

“That’s all? A lot of dark wizards come from Ombrelune too but so do a lot of amazing wizards. I can’t believe James is being so silly about this.” You shook your head. 

“I think he just wants to protect you.” Peter said, obviously uncomfortable at the idea of speaking ill about his best friend, “you’ve always been like a baby sister to him and he already hates that Sirius and Lily have strained relationships with Slytherins. I don’t think he wants anything like that for you two.”

“All that is premature, anyway.” You said with a head shake, “I haven’t been sorted yet.” As if on cue, you all heard the voice of Professor McGonagall in the corridor. Sirius whipped out his pocket mirror, one that you recognized from your family vault, and whispered for James to come back. 

“Ms. Potter, I’d like to introduce myself. My name is Minvera McGonagall, professor of Transfiguration, head of Gryffindor house, and deputy headmistresses of Hogwarts. Do you have any questions before you are sorted?”

“No Professor.” You said, taking a deep breath as James made his way back into the hospital room. Professor Dumbledore placed the hat on your head. 

“Another Potter,” the sorting hat murmured in your ear, “in all of my years I have only ever sorted Potters into Gryffindor. But you, you are not like the other Potters. You are ambitious. You are curious, always seeking more and more. You have secrets, more than most of your contemporaries. You seem to be the perfect fit for Ombrelune. You know the origin of the name Ombrelune, don’t you?” 

“Uh…no I don’t.” You said, fiddling with your fingers. 

“Ombre is shadow and lune is moon. You hail from the house of shadow moons. Quite ironic, isn’t it? Considering your currently monthly situation,” the hat chuckled, “alas there is no equivalent to Ombrelune so I will have to say SLYTHERIN!”

There was an eery silence that broke out over the room. Professor McGonagall took the hat back and cleared her throat. 

“Congratulations, Ms. Potter, on being sorted into the fine house of Slytherin. Your head of house is Professor Slughorn. I believe tomorrow during breakfast you will be assigned a companion from your house that will show you everything you need. I’ve been told that you’ll spend this evening with your cousin?”

“Yes, Professor McGonagall, that’s correct. She’ll spend the night in my dormitory.” James said quietly. 

“Alright then, have a pleasant evening.” And with that Professor McGonagall marched away. 

“So the conversation is no longer premature.” You said with a weak chuckle, “I’m a Slytherin.”

“It really isn’t that bad James,” Remus said. 

“I can’t protect you in Slytherin.” James said with a sad shake of his head. 

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“It’s been a long night. Why don’t we go to bed and revisit things in the morning?” Peter offered. You all nodded and headed back up to the dormitories for bed. 

Remus had a restless night. The moon was over but he still felt on edge around you. Of course, things made a lot more sense now but he didn’t want to make an advance for a number of reasons. He didn’t want to burden you, he wasn’t really sure of what he was feeling himself, and he did not want to bring down the wrath of James Potter. It must have been four in the morning when he turned again from his side to his stomach to his other side and then settled on his back. 

“Alright Moony,” Sirius’s sleep laced voice cut through Remus’s thoughts, “what the hell is going on?”

“Can’t sleep.” Remus sighed.

“I figured,” Sirius propped himself up and glared at Remus, “considering you’ve woken me up at every toss and turn.” 

“Sorry. I’ll go downstairs and have a smoke.” Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius’s forehead before making his way downstairs. He wasn’t expecting to see you leaning at one of the open windowsills, angling your blunt out the window so the pungent smoke made its way outside instead of back in the common room. Remus cleared his throat and you turned at the noise, giving Remus a small smile. 

“Hey Remus. What are you doing up?” You asked. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Remus said with a sigh. 

“Me either.” You handed Remus to joint, which he took gratefully, “Is it always this hard? This soon after a moon?”

“I usually sleep better after a moon, because I’m so exhausted from it. Having you here, though, it’s been different.” Remus realized that he had smoked half of your joint without thinking. He handed it back to you with a sheepish smile. 

“Me too. It’s been easier, having you with me. I guess that was the goal, though, right? Being able to connect with others who could understand my…being a werewolf.”

“Yeah, it can be lonely sometimes. I’m glad to have you here with me.” Remus realized that your eyes had been trained on him the entire time he spoke. You closed the distance between the two of you, crawling into his lap and pressing your lips against his. 

Remus was caught off guard at first but then he kissed you back just as hard. It was intense, hungry, teeth clashing against teeth. You kissed down Remus’s neck and bit along the way, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh. Remus winced at the pain from your sharp teeth but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop because he loved the feeling. You pulled his thick jumper off and ran your nails down the front of his chest, tracing his scars. He felt, awkward, ashamed at first, but you took off your own shirt and he saw the pale, magical scars that lined your own chest. He took a moment to kiss down your chest, kissing your breasts and around your nipples. Finally, he took your right nipple into his mouth and bit down harshly. You moaned out in a mix of pain and pleasure and shock but nodded at him to continue. 

Remus’s hand went down your pants next, tearing your panties off. He held them up to his nose and sniffed harshly. 

“You smell delicious. Good enough to eat.” Remus said, running his tongue over his sharp canines. He pulled your pants all the way off and shoved his face between your legs. You had never been eaten out like this before. Two of his fingers were deep inside you as his tongue made a repeated assault on your clit. His teeth would bump your clit occasionally, sending shockwaves through your system and you had your fingers buried in his hair, yanking the tendrils so tightly that you were near the point of ripping them out. You came on his face, your legs spasming, and you released a howl. That sobered you and Remus right up. You pulled up your pants and chuckled nervously. 

“I, uh, I’m going to go back to bed.” You said, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Yeah, yeah. Have a good night.” Remus was cursing everything as he watched ascend the stairs and couldn’t help but think about how it might be better that you were going to be sleeping all the way in the dungeons. 

The next morning was a bit awkward as you made your way down for breakfast. The place was alive with rumors swirling about the new girl at Hogwarts. You sat down at the Gryffindor table next to James. Lily gave you a warm hello and then sent an icy glare James’s way before sitting down next to Marlene and Mary. You desperately wished you have spent the day with the Gryffindor girls but the boy you saw a few days ago made his way over to your table. 

“What do you want, Snivellus?” James glowered at Snape.

“I’m your cousins assigned companion.” Snape returned the glare. 

“It just keeps getting better and better, huh.” You said with a small smile. “Alright Severus, I’m all yours.”

Snape barely let you out of his sight for the next month. You were more than adjusted to Hogwarts after the first week but Snape wouldn’t leave you alone, much to James’s chagrin. The marauders joked that Snape must have some twisted crush on you but you weren’t so sure. It felt much more sinister than that. The moon was this evening and you felt like you could crawl out of your skin. It didn’t help being close to Remus. Everything about Remus felt like your nerves were exposed, especially being so close the moon. Tensions were still high between James and Lily, the couple were barely speaking and when they did, it only devolved into a fight. 

You were lucky enough to have potions with Gryffindor but the lovely Professor Slughorn had assigned Snape to be your partner. Your spine felt like it was doing somersaults and kept shifting in your chair uncomfortably. 

“Are you alright?” Snape whispered in your ear as Slughorn prattled on and on about whatever the day’s lesson was. 

“Fine.”

“That time of the month, eh?” Snape asked. 

“What?” Your blood ran cold. 

“Forget I said anything.” Snape said with a smug grin. Icy sweat ran down the back of your neck. You pushed it out of your mind. Snape didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Right? You were lost in thought as you walked with the boys up to lunch. Snape had made some rude comment to Lily which caused James to jump in front of her and draw his wand. 

“You take that back, Snivellus.”

“Or what, Potter?” Snape asked, drawing his own wand. 

“I don’t need you to defend me, James.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Shut up, mudblood.” Snape spat. You felt yourself surge forward but Remus held you back. 

“Don’t. You’re emotional because of the moon,” he whispered in your ear.

“Get away from us, Snivellus. Take your disgusting plague somewhere else.” Sirius looked down his nose at Snape.

“Oh I’m the disgusting one?” Snape laughed, cruelly, “You would know all about unsavory actions, wouldn’t you Black? Lupin?” 

“Take that back.” Sirius was very pale. 

“Everyone keep moving,” it was that boy, the one who looked like Sirius. You knew by now his name was Regulus and he was indeed Sirius’s brother. Regulus was a prefect for SLytherin and it looked like he would be making head boy next year. 

“I don’t answer to you, Reggie.” Sirius said with a hard look on his face. 

“Just go. Before I take points from Gryffindor and Slytherin.” Regulus gripped Snape’s arm hard before Snape could fire off another comment. Everyone made their way to lunch in a much more sour mood than before. 

The moon descended upon you and Remus that evening and things had been great. But for the second time, you woke from a moon at Hogwarts with an uneasy feeling in your chest. James wasn’t there, which was odd, but Sirius was. Sirius looked down at you and Remus with a nervous smile and said, 

“So I messed up.”

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