#half life full life consequences is an absolute treasure

[pikkish]

i love this statue in the distance in taras nabad

because every time i see it, all i can think of is

JOHN FREEMAN, SAVER OF HUMENS

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

So obviously the entire Feanorian Host as a whole is a bit intense about the cause, but I feel like there’s different levels of devotion between their individual followers.

So my question to you is, from least to most intense, which Feanorions followers are the most cult-like and why?

the cultishness absolutely varies by region! i'm being a little facetious when i call them an out-and-out cult, but fëanorian minion culture certainly has... tendencies. the isolationism, the way loyalty to the group supersedes absolutely everything, what they do to those who 'betray the cause,' not to mention how absolutely psyched they get at the opportunity to do murder. still, the precise way that manifests, as well as how intense they are about, does change a lot depending on where you are in east beleriand. surprisingly it doesn't track that much with how tolerant of outsiders each subdivision is, which is most evidenced by:

the gap: maglor and his cronies are easily the most xenophobic part of the host, which is both a cause and a consequence of them having probably the least regular contact with non-fëanorians out of all the armies of east beleriand. paradoxically, this gives them very little incentive to go full cultist; much of the deliberately off-putting stuff the rest of the host does is partially to distinguish them from the outgroup, which isn't something you need to do when everyone you deal with is either part of the gang or an obvious enemy. they still do the elaborate facial deformations, they still have a bit of a Thing about fire, but the thing that's holding them together is much less utter devotion to the cause and much more the organic friendships and kinship bonds between riders

there's a few other reasons why the folk of the gap are relatively less culty. the gap is sparsely populated to begin with, and most of its population is at least semi-nomadic; it's a lot harder to cultivate that kind of obsession when everyone's off doing their own thing most of the time. while the gap doesn't have the highest headcount of mithrim sindar - as stated above, its population is tiny even by east beleriand's low standards - it has more mithrim sindar as a proportion of the population than anywhere else in east beleriand, and the culture of the gap has this big mithrim sindarin focus on community and clan to counteract the noldorin tendency to sacrifice everything for grand ideals. the general lack of new recruits from outside the host only serves to intensify all of this; the riders of the gap fight together because of the spiderweb of social and personal obligations that link them all together, not necessarily because of the cause (though that is still a factor, i want to be clear.) this fairly isolated society held together by individual and familial bonds stands in stark contrast to:

himlad: the thing about celegorm and curufin's people is that they're up against the fuzzy border between east and west beleriand, between maedhros' definitely-not-a-kingdom and the finarfinians' section of fingolfin's defensive line. as such, they're more or less constantly in contact with the outside world, coordinating troop movements, sharing information and resources, recruiting from the same sindarin populations. there's still a clear delineation between the fëanorians and the fingolfinians, partially because there's a lot of mountains between their major centres and partially because this lot actually do have an other to define themselves against and thus a reason to emphasise their own identity, but there's a lot of chatter and petty squabbling and philosophical discussion and a steady regular connection to the outside world counteracting the worst of the cultishness. unlike pretty much any other part of the host, the himlad minions never really lose the sense that they belong to a greater community of elves

which explains what they do in nargothrond. i don't believe that literally every single one of their followers abandoned celegorm and curufin, but i'd buy it was a lot of them, maybe even most of them. it helps that it's specifically the finarfinians their lords are betraying, the people they've - perhaps not fought side by side with, but who definitely always had their backs. even without that, though, the very existence of that relationship means they're used to working with people from outside the host, getting to know them, empathising with them, which is a pretty hefty counterbalance to the specific the-whole-world's-out-to-get-us undercurrent of internal propaganda. by no means was it an instant switch, or an easy one; after finrod got ousted there was a ton of interhost politicking and debate and the occasional brawl as everyone tried to figure out what to do. but the fact that the question was even open says a lot, i think. that probably wouldn't have been the case even in:

thargelion: caranthir’s domain is the most heavily populated part of east beleriand, and the settlement at lake helevorn is the closest thing it has to a city. a significant portion of that population aren’t fëanorians by even the loosest definition; they’re dwarven traders or miscellaneous humans or sindar far enough from the front line of the siege they can just keep on with their lives the way they always have. the fëanorians (and here, more than anywhere else, that’s a fuzzy category; this is the easiest part of the host to join, and the easiest to leave) are mixed in with all these groups, negotiating supplies, managing tribal levies, patrolling the roads, state stuff. out of all the subdivisions of the host, the thargelion minions are the hardest to distinguish from outsiders.

to keep their ingroup coherent, then, they actively mark themselves out. the minions in thargelion are probably the loudest about their collective identity and the cause and the joy of bathing in your enemies’ blood and all that. they have weird midnight rituals and purpose-built meeting halls and elaborate coded language, and while being overly tyrannical about it would be bad for business there’s definitely a sense that they form a tightly knit core which looks after its own above all else. that image is somewhat complicated by the aforementioned blurry edges of the thargelion host - is the sindarin bureaucrat who’s never touched a weapon in her life but plays a vital role in the military administration a fëanorian? is the noldorin freeholder who pays very little attention to the day-to-day minutia of the war but keeps his sword sharp for the hour it is needed? - but the alliance of old soldiers at its heart is a clear and palpable thing, especially when you can feel its eyes. when their hackles aren’t up the minions are perfectly happy to mingle socially with the other peoples of thargelion, though, which sets them apart from:

himring: on the frontlines of the siege of angband, with all the nightmares of the north pressing directly on their spirits, maedhros’ followers stoke the flames of their devotion high. the warriors of the cold fortress are less showy about their fervor than their counterparts in thargelion or even himlad, but the ardour underlying it is markedly more intense; they don’t have much in the way of over-the-top rituals, but they have vast amounts of ironclad unspoken rules they follow unwaveringly. they’re polite to outsiders, sometimes even welcoming, but you never forget that you are, in fact, an outsider, and that himring and its satellite forts form an internal world others can never quite see. even to other fëanorians, they come across as aloof

their fervour also tends to manifest as a deep personal loyalty that borders on reverence towards maedhros himself. all the brothers command respect, of course, they’re all magnetic personalities who draw people in and bind them together, but maedhros’ minions are on a whole other level. they mythologise him, tell stories of his deeds like he personally holds the line against morgoth, treasure the slightest contact with him, hold being called to his direct service as the highest honour of all. most of the new recruits to the himring host are brought in by the vast pull of maedhros’ reputation, from all across beleriand and even from the north. but no matter where they came from, they all understand that they will fight and live and die together beneath the banner of their lord. which is a bit weird, even by fëanorian standards, but they’re nowhere near as bad as:

ossiriand: amrod and amras’ henchelves are considered by the rest of the host to be notably psychotic, which is saying a lot. the minions of ossiriand are utterly terrifying, absolutely fanatical about the cause, the most bloodthirsty murder cult in east beleriand. you’d think the green-elves they share their territory with would act as a calming influence, but in practice the two groups mostly avoid each other, because the green-elves naturally prefer to stay away from these nutbags. you’d think being away from the front lines would lessen the need to solidify their identity through cult nonsense, but in practice it gives them the free time to go full gonzo. most of the horrible rumours you hear about the fëanorians in the rest of beleriand are either specific quirks of the ossiriand minions, or most egregrious in the ossiriand minions. they have an orc pit

or so they’d have you believe. the fëanorians in ossiriand effectively serve as the host’s intelligence division, scouts and spies and saboteurs. a lot of their work is clandestine by its very nature, and they tend to be pretty secretive about what they actually do. half the things you hear about them are probably disinformation, lies they’re deliberately spreading to make themselves sound scarier. hopefully, at least. as anyone who’s chatted with an ossiriand minion knows, they are both eagerly awaiting the fulfilment of the oath, and already preparing for what will come after

(this paradigm does break down after the siege is broken and the union of maedhros fails and the dregs of the armies of east beleriand wind up stuck in the same ever-shrinking territory. still, i think the origins of the survivors are... interesting. the people of the gap were almost completely wiped out in the bragollach, the people of himlad mostly jumped ship with celebrimbor, even the people of thargelion took heavy losses in the nirnaeth. but the people of himring stood firm around their lord, and the people of ossiriand were never really frontline fighters in the first place. minions from the more cultish parts of the host tend to survive longer, and in greater numbers. i feel this could have... consequences)

[firebirdsdaughter]

But I do love this family so much…

… The acting in the whole series is stellar, but Checkmate really deserved some awards all ‘round.

Neal’s not just terrified for El, he’s also having to go through the torture of watching Peter suffer like this, and the show doesn’t cut around that. The way it cuts to him being like ‘I need to go hyperventilate in a corner of the yard’ when he hears Peter say ‘hon,’ bc he knows what that means. Matt Bomer has very expressive eyes and you can just see the agony in them through the whole thing. He’s looking down the barrel of losing what have become two of the most important people in his entire life in different ways, partially bc of his own actions, and that shatters him. Half of this is his fault, and he knows it. It’s heartbreaking to me that even in that moment, he desperately still wants Peter to know he didn’t steal the treasure. He knows he’s at fault but he needs Peter to know he didn’t do that, at least didn’t betray him like that. Ultimately, it’s not a huge comfort, but I don’t think he’s trying to dodge blame, I think he just wants Peter to know he really didn’t do that to him.

Meanwhile, obviously Peter is completely wrecked. Tim DeKay became a master of stoicism over in the show and it’s on full display. When Peter lashes out it’s serious, and the anger and pain are palpable. One of the people he loves most is in danger and he’s absolutely livid at the other bc it’s partially his fault. His son got his wife kidnapped. On top of his son lying to him for months and finding out that his son was thinking about leaving. The anger is perfectly understandable, but I do feel like you still feel his feelings for Neal through it. He snaps, quite understandably, but he’s not completely tearing into Neal and accusing him of not caring or anything, he trusts Neal’s help and ultimately reassures Mozzie, the person ultimately responsible for a lot of his pain this season, that it was Keller’s choice to kidnap El. He cuts off the pointed accusations about leaving when Neal tells him he didn’t want to, and doesn’t accuse Neal of trying to get out of things. Neal saying he didn’t want to leave clearly means something. Peter can be absolutely terrifying when he wants to be, as evidenced by how ready he is to just tear Keller apart. I feel like it shows a lot about his care of Neal that he’s comparatively restrained with him and lets him help. Peter is careful with what he tells Neal if he doesn’t trust him. The appearance of the most emotionally wrought ‘damnit Neal’ ever. Peter trying to shut Keller down when he’s taunting Neal about lying about the treasure, sounding downright protective. And like how Neal’s consequences aren’t just having El be endangered but also having to watch Peter go through this, Peter in pain both bc El is in danger and it’s partially Neal’s fault (and Neal was lying to him). He’s both panicked and betrayed. Someone he loves is in danger bc someone else he loves lied to him. The way he’s still worried about Neal when they lose contact and forgoes immediately rushing to El to go rescue him.

Meanwhile El is a queen. The sheer nerve of being told not to pass messages and then blatantly passing one (also Satchmo for best boy). She also has no doubt that Neal will help rescue her rather than run away, and despite being very frightened holds herself together with aplomb. She’s smart enough to get out of the building with allows the FBI to find her (for someone as allegedly smart as Keller, not checking her jewellery for diamonds is hilarious—maybe he just didn’t think she’d know that/be bale to get to the window). She immediately tells Peter to go get Neal first (w/ all the intensity of ‘go get our boy, dear’).

While I’m generally annoyed w/ Mozzie for any number of reasons, he’s also great. He talks shit but he cares about the Burkes, not just bc Neal does, and sees them as separate from The Establishment. He immediately comes back when he learns what happened (I really wanna know what Neal wrote, was it just ‘WE GOT EL KIDNAPPED BY KELLER’ in bright red capital letters???), and walks right into the FBI. I think it’s also a consequences moment for Mozzie, albeit one that doesn’t really stick, bc he’s the one who taught Neal how to be this self centred, he’s never cared about the effects his actions have on others in the past—partially bc he’s never been in so deep, or pissed off anyone as violent as Keller. He’s also one degree removed—like sure, he cares about the Burkes, but it’s a different relationship than Neal has w/ them. He probably didn’t even consider that Keller would focus on/suspect Neal and by extension them. Mozzie also thinks overly highly of criminal life—he’s got the whole ‘gentleman thief’ illusion. The idea of Keller involving a civilian may never have crossed his mind, bc he projected an ‘honourable battle’ sort of thing onto the situation. He would never involve an innocent civilian, so he doesn’t think that Keller might.

Also if we’re giving acting chops, he’s not family, but I gotta hand them to Keller’s actor, too. That guy does an excellent down played menacing. Definitely much more frightening than his hired muscle.

[vaguely-concerned]

X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog

exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)

- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time 

- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space

- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him

- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)

like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable  

(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)

to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still  

- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually

- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey

- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘

I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f  just... fahjksdfh

- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut

- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it 

- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure   

- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time

- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this

- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”

- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik 

- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)

- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here’ professor x she’s in a straightjacket)  

- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after

- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha

- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)

(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol) 

- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you

- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol) 

- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain  

yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol

- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!

- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you? 

- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???) 

- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’

that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’  

like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is 

- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)  

- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)

hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh

- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)

- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)

it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way

- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy

- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh 

- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive 

- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’

- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES 

- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself  

- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it

- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters 

awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes

- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(

- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh 

- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya

fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott 

- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl

oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)

- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman

- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)

- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail 

- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)

- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh

- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)

- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)

- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’

god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster 

- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)

- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic  

 - ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge

- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;

- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!! 

fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)

hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj 

- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’ 

- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees

- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)

- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves

- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau

and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL

(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)

I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)

- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol

- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men 

- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)

ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!  

- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha) 

- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing 

SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)  

- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give 

- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’ 

- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)

-          remy                           rogue

                              🤝

doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates 

- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe

she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma 

also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww 

- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment

his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice

- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak  

listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture 

- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours

he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’

- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)

- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence 

baby u r my

 ANGELLLLLLLL

(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it) 

love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too

he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him  

- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in

- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh

- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what 

- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself 

- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this 

nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa

- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol

- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day 

...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol 

- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me

- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd

- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)

supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay

- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon

- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)

ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same 

- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you

- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug

- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again

- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess 

like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol

- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)

- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;

- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents) 

- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd

stunt therapist remy lebeau 

- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3 

- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back 

- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha  

- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it

interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)

- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa 

- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on

- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do 

birds of a feather motherfucker  

- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background

- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet) 

and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*

- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u  

- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha) 

- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay  

- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it 

- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go” 

- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha

- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?

here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most. 

- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)

- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda

- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3

- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can

from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.  

remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage) 

there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha

this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s  p r e t t y  solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)     

but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha

(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)   

- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D

gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D: 

- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!! 

- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --

- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???  

- okay last two episodes let’s go

- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt

- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way 

- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one

(comics are so dumb y’all) 

- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts 

- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable 

- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan

- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(

- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown

- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never

- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling

- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god

the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha

(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)

- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated 

- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol) 

there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells  

- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it

- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart

- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(

[carmenlire]

The Dead Lay Waiting

read on ao3

It seems like a nightmare but Magnus can’t wake up no matter how hard he pinches himself.

It’s a sight he never wanted to see-- Alec in his arms, blood pouring from him until the stench is thick enough to suffocate them, until Magnus can taste copper and his stomach roils.

Holding it together takes more from him than it maybe should, he thinks. Alec’s isn’t the first body he’s held as it went limp and cold and his husband’s eyes are from the first to have lost their light right before him.

Still. Something swirls in his gut and it’s black and putrid and Magnus, in all his overwhelming grief, already knows that the effects of his storm will be both catastrophic and stark.

The battle rages around them but Magnus doesn’t care-- can’t-- not when Alec’s heart is so weak he can barely feel the pulse even with his magic.

Without a conscious thought, he’s gathering his love as gently as he can and the magic that envelopes them is a dull shade of purple, his anger clashing with the gentleness he’ll always shower Alec with, even or especially if it’s the last thing he can do.

Magnus hears Jace yell, picks up on Isabelle’s sharp cry as he takes Alexander with him through the portal, but he pays them no mind. Alec is dead weight in his arms.

Stepping into his apothecary, it’s the work of a moment to summon a hospital bed. Alec’s shirt is in ruins, his thigh is mangled, the right side of his face deeply bruised.

His chest isn’t moving.

“No, Alexander,” Magnus whispers, taking a crucial moment to lean over his husband, to swipe a feather-light touch over his unmarred cheek. “Stay with me, darling. I need you to stay. I love you. I love you so much, my darling.”

Alec doesn’t answer because he can’t and the silence in the instant after those words fall like lead from Magnus’s lips is the worst moment of Magnus’s life. Alec always offers the words back-- even when he’s mostly asleep, even when they’re fighting, even when he’s not fully present, like it’s autopilot for Alec to tell Magnus he loves him, a pavlovian response.

Now there’s nothing and Magnus wants to scream himself hoarse.

His breath shudders. Feeling like his very bones are cracking under the gaping chasm of grief threatening to swallow him whole, Magnus can’t focus on anything but Alec’s heart.

The loft is preternaturally still as he brings a hand swimming in blue to his husband’s chest and feels for a thready heartbeat.

There’s nothing.

He gasps and it’s a horrid, desperate sound. He prods his magic deeper and-- there’s still nothing.

Alec’s life force is gone. He’s empty, left for dead. There’s nothing there and there’s a split moment where Magnus’s shoulders slump and a sob catches in his throat. He feels his own ruin staring at him, mocking and absolute but before he quite knows what’s happened, he’s snapping around toward his shelves full of every kind of magic book.

He’s hardly aware of what he’s doing. Magnus is aware of every second passing, his own heart keeping time enough for the both of them.

It feels like an eternity as he tosses books aside as soon as they prove worthless. The apothecary holds some of his most treasured texts, the ones he most regularly uses for potions and spell work. But they aren’t worth a damn now, he thinks bitterly, throwing another one out of his way as soon as he realizes it’s nothing but a list of plants and their perfectly sanguine medicinal purposes.

No, he thinks, a little crazed. He needs something else.

It’s with that thought in mind, that Magnus leaves the apothecary. Trying to ignore the voice that whispers, and Alec too, he strides through their loft to his library.

Over the years, this library has become an amalgamation of both his and Alec’s interests. There are Alec’s romance novels taking up one section and his own true crime paperbacks taking up their own set of shelves. There’s one entire wall dedicated to his expansive magical collection, though-- volumes that are rarely used or that he only bought for their historical or monetary value.

Here is where he will find a way to save Alec.

That’s what Magnus tells himself because he quite simply refuses to entertain the idea that his love is dead. He can’t stop to dwell on that sentiment too long or he knows he’d go mad so Magnus does what he does best.

He puts his head down and works.

He’s a little more considerate with these books. Some have been magically preserved through the decades and still others are even too delicate for that preservation method. There’s one book in his collection that Magnus tries to ignore but he knows it’s futile.

There’s a part of him that knew as soon as Alec’s chest stopped moving but it felt like his own heart stopped beating, that this is where things would end for him.

Or begin, he thinks. This will just be a start of a new chapter.

No matter what, he's saving his Alec. What will return to him will be Alec. At the end of the day, that's all Magnus needs.

The binding is inconspicuous enough. No title, no author. Magnus himself doesn’t even know the creator of the spells and potions inside. Green leather bounds the book-- not so dark as to warn the prospective reader of its contents but an almost offensive jade.

It reminds Magnus of spring and in this moment, it’s almost enough to ruin him anew.

The library is silent. It’s just him and what he’s about to do.

If Magnus could slow down enough to use his head, he’d know that what he’s contemplating isn’t just ill-advised. It’s damn near illegal. Definitely morally reprehensible. Still, the consequences aren’t enough to deter him, not when he’s looking at the prospect of living an eternity without his husband. That is a hell Magnus simply refuses to experience.

Raising the dead is complicated. Sometimes what returns is different. Not totally changed, just different. A little more this, a little less that. Not enough to be unrecognizable but just enough so that if you know what to look for, you'll find it. Still. Magnus has promised to love Alec in sickness and in health, through everything, until the end of it all and that's just what he plans to do.

He knows what he wants and what he wants is Alec, whatever way he can have him. That's all that matters.

So, he opens the book. He scours the contents, running a finger along lines of text as he devours each critical step in an arduous process.

With this kind of spell work, time is of the essence. Magnus doesn’t sleep, doesn’t rest as he collects all of his ingredients for the potion. There are one or two that are so far reaching that he has to call a few contacts, some of his more unsavory consultants that don’t ask questions.

Which is best for all involved because Magnus would not be answering anything about what he’s up to tonight. If all goes according to plan, that will just be his and Alexander’s little secret. No one needs to know the lengths he's gone to. Magnus has always been able to deflect better than most and this will become just another mystery that surrounds him and Alec by proxy.

It takes an hour to bribe and threaten his way towards a complete ingredient list and another half an hour of running through the spell work. Going into the apothecary feels like his own brand of death sentence. He carefully avoids looking at Alec, doesn’t think he could continue if he saw blue lips and stiff muscles as rigor mortis works through his beloved’s body.

Just reciting the words in his head leaves him feeling restless, tongue heavy. The consonants are thick, vowels stretching too thin. He hasn’t used this language in a century or two-- since that time with Asmodeus, best left unexplored.

He perseveres.

It’s close to dawn when he feels ready.

Looking over at Alec, his heart aches. It’s grief, an insurmountable tide of it. It’s overwhelming in its gentleness because Magnus knows that he will save Alec. He knows it isn’t too late. He knows what must be done and he is willing to pay this price and much more besides to feel his Alexander’s heart beating under his ear.

The grief and rage are almost in the background now, an echo of what could be if Magnus was anyone else or if he loved Alec just one bit less than he does. He’s said for years that there are no limits where Alec is concerned and this is him crossing the line of what should be.

What should be is Magnus and Alec, happily ever after. That’s what will be, by the grace of every molecule of power that he possesses.

Before the hard part starts, Magnus walks over to Alec, his beautiful husband, and watches him for a long moment. He studies the shadows his lashes leave on his cheeks, the dark hair that’s just started to show dashing threads of silver, a body his husband keeps fit and toned even if he so rarely goes out into the field these days.

Unlike last night, he thinks bitterly and spares a brief but hopeless moment to think that maybe this will make Alec less likely to run out and try to save the world himself.

“I love you, Alexander,” Magnus whispers in the space between their lips, before laying a gentle kiss on his cool mouth. “Please forgive me.”

Clearing his throat as he straightens, it’s the work of a moment to skim the lines of the spell one last time. The potion sits where it needs to brew for a few more minutes at his side, a ghastly red.

The color of dried blood, of crushed petals. It looks toxic and smells just as putrid.

The words seem to fight Magnus on their way out. The words feel dredged in oil, coated in tar as they slide down his tongue into the quiet room. Shadows lengthen and the light makes way for whatever malignant power Magnus is harnessing.

Black lines creep from Alec’s heart and into his arms, up his neck, under the deflect rune.

Hands shaking with the effort-- for all that the book spelled out exactly what had to be done, only a warlock of the highest ability could manage to pull such a thing off. It’s considerable effort for otherworldly reward.

Finally, with the last syllable falling from his mouth, Magnus picks up the potion and carefully lift’s Alec’s head. His voice is low, cajoling as he forces his husband’s mouth open and pours the disgusting mixture down his throat.

There’s a moment of pure silence. It feels like all of the air in the loft has been vacuumed out and Magnus himself gasps in the vast emptiness.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Every light in the apothecary-- and if Magnus had to hazard a guess, their city block-- explodes and leaves him in the dark. He doesn’t know it but there’s a citywide blackout that will take most of the morning to fix, New York’s power grid almost collapsing completely.

But that doesn’t matter.

Magnus hears Alec’s first shaky inhale. It isn’t a desperate gasp, just a quiet intake of breath. Like he’s surprised, like he hasn’t been clinically dead for almost four hours.

His magic rejoices at once, the apothecary lighting up in brilliant blue. Magnus watches as his husband’s eyes open. They’re empty for just a moment before they turn stunned.

And then furious.

“Magnus,” Alec rasps. He reaches out and he’s not weak when he closes a hand around Magnus’s arm. There’s no tremor. He's every bit the shadowhunter, strong and unyielding. “What the fuck did you do?”

Magnus knows there will be hell to pay. He doesn’t give a damn, not when the alternative is so much worse. “I saved you, darling.”

Alec doesn’t say anything for a moment but Magnus isn’t fooled. He knew Alec wouldn’t be pleased but that isn’t what concerns him anyway. No, the real trouble will lurk outside of their home.

There will be questions. Rumors. Whispers.

His thoughts cut off when Alec leans up and kisses Magnus. There’s dried blood in the corner of his lips and his mouth tastes like that horrifying potion but Magnus can’t get enough. Some sound escapes him and it sounds wretched, equal parts desperation and relief.

Alec is it for him. He’s always known it but now, if possible, it’s even more true. He belongs to Alec just as Alec belongs to him and sure what Magnus did was dangerous and foolhardy but he’s always been both of those when it comes to his husband, for Alec.

When the kiss breaks apart, they’re both breathing hard and it makes Magnus’s heart sing, to hear Alec’s lungs working so beautifully.

His Alexander leans forward slowly until their foreheads touch. “You shouldn’t have done that, babe. You should have let me go.”

There’s only one answer to that, one that Magnus will defend to his own dying breath.

“I’ll never let you go, Alexander. But you already know that.”

Magnus feels more than sees Alec’s mouth tilt up, equal parts exasperated but knowing.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I know.”

[feeling-uncomfy]

Part two!! I hope you enjoy- I'm really enjoying writing this! :D

There are no specific warnings, just Tokoyami having no clue how to talk to people and then fucking up when talking to hot dudes. Also there's a mention of COPD (I did a little research)

Enioy!

Hawks was there in ten, dragging Tokoyami behind him. Tokoyami grumbled until the door opened again, and he looked up to tell the person to fuck off, but froze.

Gang Orca walked in, bodyguards flanking him, but that's not what caught his eye. Oh no, not the people who could flick him and kill him, damn his size.

It was the boy who followed him in, eyes darting around the lobby, curious and almost.. afraid? He was tall, and the lower half of his face was covered by a skintight mask, while the top half was mostly covered by bangs, hanging low over his eyes no matter how much he swiped them out of his face.

He was muscular, but he seemed so gentle, with a nervous kind of excitement while walking in. He stuck to Gang Orca's side like glue, never straying too far. Tokoyami genuinely found himself frozen, his face burning a bright red at the sight of him. He was shaken from his staring by Hawks brushing past him to greet their guests.

"This is Tokoyami, say hello." Tokoyami blinked up at the boy, who stares right back. Neither said anything, but they didn't need to, really. The taller one broke the silence by bowing at the hip and speaking.

"Hello," the boy kept his head low, and didn't say anything else, almost like he wasn't sure he could. Tokoyami blinked dumbly again before straightening up.

"You don't have to bow, do I look like royalty to you?"

Tokoyami and Hawks winced in unison at Tokoyami's poor choice of words. Luckily, the boy laughed it off as if it was normal to be spoken to in such a way. Tokoyami bristled, and Gang Orca didn't comment.

Hawks spoke over Tokoyami's apology. "Gang Orca, my office should be an okay place for us to talk, Shouji, Tokoyami, why don't you two wait in the lounge?" Gang Orca almost moved in to stop them, but stopped at Shouji's enthusiastic nod.

Tokoyami found himself leading this absolutely handsome, dreamy boy, who's name he now knew to be Shouji, into the lounge. Wow.

He opened the door, and once Shouji was inside, he stood politely in the corner, not a word left his mouth. Tokoyami looked over, confused.

Shouji felt eyes on him, and he looked over to see Tokoyami staring. Instinctively tensing, Shouji fought to find something to say. People weren't really his thing, in fact, new places in general weren't his thing.

Nevertheless, when he'd been told he was going to actually be going somewhere that wasn't a bunker, Shouji didn't think of the consequences when he nodded. Being outside was something that happened once in a blue moon, and while he knew why, he couldn't help but want to be out there, doing something.

He had little to no involvement with the company Gang Orca ran, yet he knew the facility better than even the longest working person there. He probably knew the place better than Gang Orca. Shouji looked around the room, curiosity winning over his preemptive fear.

Forgetting the other person in the room, Shouji walked around and explored the room. Picking up things of interest, putting it back exactly where he had found it. Well, out of habit he organised it a little, but he didn't think about it as he went from item to item, mumbling to himself as he looked through the books.

It wasn't until Tokoyami spoke up that Shouji was brought out of his own world. "What are you doing?" Tokoyami once again winced at his tone. He sounded like Hawks talking to a rude dealer, and Tokoyami shook his head and focused on the guest he'd just startled. Shouji almost dropped the book he was holding. Almost.

"Looking, am I not allowed?" Tokoyami strained to hear him, Shouji naturally talking in a quiet voice. Tokoyami tilted his head at the response, more so how nervous it sounded. "Yeah, you are. I was just confused," Shouji seemed to relax at the words and went back to what he was doing.

Tokoyami watched him move from shelf to shelf, in a world of his own. He wasn't sure why Shouji was so interested in the lounge, it was just full of little collectables that Hawks has gathered over the years. But to Shouji, this seemed to be a whole treasure trove, full of wonders he didn't know existed.

Tokoyami caught glances at his eyes, how they lit up at every new thing he saw. It was endearing, and Tokoyami found himself smiling softly just watching him. It was as if Shouji could see things Tokoyami couldn't, and from how he studied each item, Tokoyami became more convinced he actually could.

But there was something to his curiosity. Tokoyami could go down the street and see half of these things, without fail he could point out where Hawks got them. Either he wasn't as observant as Tokoyami thought, or Shouji had genuinely never seen them before.

"Shouji?" Tokoyami almost snorted at how quickly Shouji put the thing he was holding back where he found it. "Yeah?" Tokoyami looked him up and down before speaking. "Have you.. ever seen these before?" It seemed innocent enough, and Tokoyami didn't miss the way Shouji had started to fidget.

"I-... haven't seen them in person, no." Tokoyami let his confusion show on his face, obviously, and Shouji was quick to explain. "I've seen them in photos, or I've seen them from a distance, but I've never been so close, they're even better up close," Shouji was on a tangent now, pointing out the things he held, giving little facts about them that Tokoyami didn't know before.

For his extensive knowledge, Tokoyami found that Shouji had never actually seen them, or held them. Weird. Tokoyami tuned the talking out, wondering why Shouji hadn't seen them. It wasn't as if they were very rare, in fact, they were common enough for Hawks and Endeavor to compete to get the most.

Hawks won, obviously. He was a hoarder, and a nasty one at that. Anything he could get, he did. Tokoyami was positive Hawks had maxed out one if his credit cards by the end of it.

Getting back on topic, Shouji was still on about a book, oblivious to Tokoyami's spacing out and the large book about to fall off a higher shelf, directly onto his head. Tokoyami glanced up at it and jumped when it wobbled before falling.

Panicking, Tokoyami shot forward, reaching out and yanking Shouji towards him. Unfortunately, Tokoyami completely forgot about the fact that Shouji towered over him, and since Shouji wasn't given a warning, they both were sent to the floor in a heap.

Tokoyami prepared himself to be crushed, but was surprised to find he landed on something soft. Maybe there was a cushion on the floor Tokoyami hadn't seen. That theory was proven wrong when the heard a loud thump. Someone definitely hit the foor.

Tokoyami opened his eyes and was met with grey. It was soft and oddly comfortable, and Tokoyami found himself just laying there, enjoying the pillow. That was, until Shouji spoke from someone above him. "Tokoyami? Are you okay there?" His voice was a lot softer than Tokoyami imagined it would be, up close.

Still, he looked up and froze. Shouji had turned them over, taking the fall and saving Tokoyami the trouble and pain. Tokoyami blinked up at him, realising that his face had just been in his guest's chest, shamelessly basking in its comfort.

To say Tokoyami jumped out of his arms was an understatement. He practically teleported. Shouji blinked before snorting quietly and sitting up. "Sorry about that, you weren't hurt, right?"

Tokoyami looked at Shouji, and couldn't help but think about how pretty his eyes were, Tokoyami could see the concern in them, genuine and kind. Unfortunately, Tokoyami ruined the moment by snapping.

"I can take a hit, you know. I'm not made of glass."

Tokoyami froze at Shouji's eyes widening, and took a step back when he stood up. Tokoyami was half expecting a punch to the face, but felt even worse when Shouji kept his head firmly facing the floor. "Right- right, I'm sorry.." Shouji's voice was even quieter than usual, hesitance ringing clearly.

Fuck. Tokoyami had fucked up. He tried to fix it, carefully stepping closer. "I- it wasn't meant to come out like that, I'm sorry," Tokoyami reached out, only to have Shouji flinch. It was small, but not unnoticeable. Tokoyami pulled his hand back quicker than intended, making Shouji shuffle back. Well, Tokoyami had just earned the title "Asshole of the year" and he couldn't even blame Hawks.

Shouji crossed his arms. He really wanted to make a good first impression, but he messed that up, and Tokoyami probably didn't like him. Shouji looked at the floor and fought the urge to get out of the room. He understood now why he wasn't always allowed outside, he messed up whenever he talked to people.

Shouji opened his mouth to apologise when the door opened again. Hawks was there, not looking pleased. "Hi there kids. Why don't you two go on a walk? It's pretty boring in here." Tokoyami blinked at the clear anger ringing through Hawks's voice, and nodded for his own safety, not wanting the nearest object thrown at him.

"That sounds good, c'mon Shouji." Tokoyami looked over at Shouji, begging him to just listen and not question anything. Thankfully, his enthusiasm from earlier returned to him and he nodded quickly. Tokoyami let himself relax, maybe the damage from earlier wasn't so bad?

The two left the building, missing Hawks putting a hand in front of Gang Orca and glaring, demanding an explanation. "You're telling me that this kid, a kid younger than my brother isn't allowed outside? How long have you had him locked up?" Hawks had one too many questions floating through his head, and a whole lot of anger directed at Gang Orca.

Gang Orca sighed and explained. "He's got Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease, have you heard of it?" Hawks nodded slightly. "It doesn't allow the necessary amount of oxygen flow from the lungs, not curable and could make life hell."

Gang Orca continued without hesitation. "In the face of any stressful situation, Shouji has the tendency to panic, and that's not something he can afford to do with this disease. It could be fatal for him."

Hawks nodded, taking it in. "So you're saying he could die if he had a bad panic attack?" Gang Orca nodded and added. "This type of job isn't exactly easy to deal with as you know, it's extremely stressful, and as a child he was constantly sick with it because of his tendency to panic on top of his lungs."

Hawks looked outside, where he had sent the kids. "So you're telling me I just sent a ticking time bomb out into the world, where he hasn't been since he was...?" Gang Orca supplied an age, and Hawks let out a pained noise before taking off and running out into the streets.

He had to find them before his trouble magnet brother got his new friend killed.

[Part 2 end]

[Sorry my writing speed has decreased a hell of a lot, I've got school stuff going on, but I should be moving a little quicker-]

[See you next time ;0]

[iloveyou3thousand]

Request: Siren!Peter x Pirate!Tony where all Tony’s men in the ship fall prey to the sirens except Tony, so Peter has to be the siren to get him but instead of drowning him he falls for him

Oh man I had so much fun writing this I love sirens hmmmm

CW: descriptions of (near)drowning

Read it on AO3 here!

—————————————————————————————

Tony looked on in bewilderment as one by one, his men gravitated toward the bow of the ship, staring out into the dark sea like they had caught sight of treasure at the bottom.

It didn’t concern him as much as it should have, at first. The captain was just puzzled, until the first man climbed over the chains and plunged himself into the cold waters. And didn’t resurface.

“What do you all think you’re doing? Get back to your posts!” He yelled from his position on the quarterdeck, but no one listened.

One by one, they climbed the railing, and dropped down, as if entranced. Tony rushed down to grab and shake the first man he could reach, but when he noticed his eyes were glazed over and he barely got a response out of him, it slowly starting to dawn on him what exactly was happening.

“Do you hear it?” The man whispered, almost conspiratorially.

Tony didn’t. But it confirmed his suspicions.

Sirens.

They had to get out of their territory, quickly, but with the rate at which his men were falling overboard, he soon had far too few crewmembers to be able to command the ship. And however hard the captain tried, he was unable to shake his people awake and get them to stop hearing the sirens’ song. It was of no use.

Tony had no time to contemplate why he didn’t hear anything himself, not even a single note. He knew he was next. And since sirens were ruthless, incorrigible and determined creatures, Tony knew that they would stop at nothing until the entire ship had been taken over, and every person on it had been dragged to the bottom of the ocean to suffocate and die.

Tony unsheathed his sword when the last man plunged to his death, and prepared for the worst.

.

Peter watched with satisfaction how body after body fell to the water, creating ripples and waves in the otherwise still surface. The pirates had been wrong to think these caves would make for a good place to dock and spend the night.

They had failed to see what lurked behind the rocks and between the coral and beneath the murky swirls of muddy water the ship’s arrival had caused.

Anyone who dared disturb their sleep was bound to face the consequences.

And oh, they faced them, alright. They faced them well.

Peter’s sisters sang their songs, twirling just beneath the surface, luring the filthy pirates in with sweet promises of lavish feasts and infinite riches and all the sex their oafish bodies could handle.

It always drew them in. Those butterfingered, half-witted, heavy-handed, simple-minded men.

But one human remained.

His sisters attempted a different song, a different frequency, a different pitch. But he remained on the deck in a defensive position, sword out and looking around him like he truly did think he was going to be able to protect himself with that.

Peter knew that it frustrated his sisters when they couldn’t manage to lure someone in, but it only made Peter giddy.

Because that’s where he came in.

Natasha swam up to him and put her arm around him, squeezing him in close with a big grin full of sharp teeth.

“Your turn, little brother,” she purred, “I think he’ll love what you have to offer.”

It wasn’t often that Peter got to sing. That was his sisters’ job, and they succeeded almost always, except for when they encountered the occasional man like the one still holding his ground.

But not for long.

Peter returned Natasha’s grin, and wiggled himself free of her grip to drift toward the surface. His sisters remained nearby, wanting to see if they had been correct about the last man standing or if they needed to take different measures to make sure the entire crew made it to the murky bottom of the sea, out of sight but definitely around.

Before Peter breached the surface, he opened his mouth and sang.

.

What was that? Tony spun around at the initial sound of a soft voice nearby, somewhere in the water. It called to him, sweet and sultry, with promises of things he had previously never even been able to imagine having before.

He was still a pirate though, and greedy by default, and so the longer he listened the more tempted he became.

He imagined palaces at the bottom of the sea, whole worlds at his feet, the largest fleet of ships imaginable at his command and chambers full of gold at his disposal. He’d envisioned it before, had dreamt about it, yet he’d never seen it quite this clearly.

And then the young man by his side. Youthful and in his prime but cultivated, empowering and encouraging and absolutely stunning, and all his. He would never want for another person again, content with him by his side through everything, sharing his bed at night and waking up to him in the morning.

Tony had never thought he’d have that.

All the riches, all the ships and the gold and the manpower, he could all accumulate. If he tried his best and fought the hardest and had a good crew next to him, those were all achievable. But he had always known that he would never find a man willing to share his life with him a way a woman usually did.

Tony’s sword clattered to the wood beneath him, by his boots, and his feet moved as if on their own volition.

He wasn’t thinking anymore. Wasn’t trying to struggle. He looked into the water below and saw that stunning face he’d been dreaming of, just under the light ripple of the water. A hand extended toward him, and Tony climbed the chains, stood for a moment as he listened to the heart wrenching song for another beat, and then dove toward his new love.

.

Peter could hear his sisters chitter with excitement when the last remaining pirate climbed up onto the railing, about to let himself drop.

Peter reached a hand up through the surface, holding it out as if he meant to take the captain’s. Now, his sisters scattered. The pirate was about to jump, and that would be that. The whole crew at the bottom of the ocean. They could go back to sleep, and they’d have a sumptuous breakfast in the morning comprised of an abundance of men.

All Peter had to do, was lure the captain deeper and deeper into the water.

The man jumped, Peter backed up, and when he was finally next to him and the bubbles in the water disappeared, Peter could see him clearly at last.

The man had his eyes open, and his face was slack. He didn’t look like he was bothered by the fact that he only had a limited supply of oxygen trapped in his lungs, and that it would soon run out. He had dark hair that swirled around his head, dark brows, dark eyes boring into Peter’s. He was coming closer, and Peter abruptly remembered what they were doing. He held out his hand.

Of course the man took it. But when Peter took a beat too long in starting to tug him downward, once again too distracted, this time by the strange curve of the pirate’s mouth when it appeared that he was smiling at him, suddenly the pirate was close and there was a hand on Peter’s cheek.

He should have jerked away. Would have, if it hadn’t caught him by surprise. Or so he told himself, at least.

The pirate was pulling him closer, his thumb brushing slowly across Peter’s cheek. This had never happened before. Peter was always in control. He had to be. He got so very few victims, and they were so far in between, he took pride in the fact that he got one when he finally did. They never got the upper hand.

And they never kissed him.

Peter shot back an inch at the soft touch of lips to his own, watching the pirate with eyes like saucers.

The other man’s mouth opened, forming bubbles when he whispered to Peter, which would have been futile in the water if Peter’s hadn’t had the kind of hearing that he did.

“Please,” the man said to him, eyes pleading.

Suddenly, Peter felt panicked. The bubbles that escaped the man’s mouth were the last few fractions of his oxygen, meaning that he was about to suffocate. Any moment now his lungs would start to protest so viciously that his body would automatically force him to take a deep breath, resulting in water entering his lungs.

He was going to die in seconds, and while that normally thrilled Peter, right now…

Right now it filled him with dread.

.

Tony had never seen a more beautiful man before.

And he’d seen quite a few in his lifetime.

The siren was even prettier up close.

The word left Tony’s lips before he could help himself, before he could think twice about it, and suddenly his lungs were straining. He was well aware of the fact that this would be the end of him, but he’d already lost his crew, lost his only way forward and away from the small island, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was going to die the moment he hit the water.

Even before he did, he already knew.

Now, all he wanted was that kiss. It was all he’d ever wanted.

But his air was running out fast, and he could feel his consciousness slipping. His eyes were drifting shut already, his body starting to shake with the urge to breathe, but at least he saw the beautiful young man’s face one last time before his eyes closed and his body gave in.

.

Tony woke up sputtering, coughing up salty water, retching at the feeling it left in the back of his throat and his nostrils as the stuff came pouring out wherever it could. He turned onto his side so as not to choke on it, allowing it to spill out onto the flat rocks on which he realized he lay.

It took a minute to cough it all up, and still it felt like his lungs were swimming.

But he was no longer in the water.

Tony pushed himself up into a sitting position with some difficulty and took in his surroundings. It was dark, and he was sitting among large, black boulders, the mouth of an enormous cave looming over him. And in the distance was his ship, bobbing along gently with the tide, still docked and perfectly intact, but clearly void of a crew.

Had he dreamed it all and had he just somehow fallen overboard?

No. It couldn’t be.

Slowly, Tony became aware of the fact that there was a pair of eyes on him, watching him closely from the shadows nearby. He saw them glitter delicately in the reflection of the moon on the water just by his feet. They were stunning, but Tony knew that they could only belong to someone, or something, that he needed to be desperately afraid of. Especially now that he couldn’t defend himself, since his sword lay abandoned in the middle of the ship’s empty deck.

And the gun in its holster at his hip wasn’t going to be of much use either. Except maybe if he used blunt force with the heavy barrel of it, but he was too out of breath to even think about fighting off a siren right now.

Besides, hadn’t this young man just…saved his life?

Before he could think too much about it, the creature was crawling closer, further into the light. His tail gleamed with what could easily appear as silver and gold below the surface of the water, fins sharp in contrast to the softness of his pretty face and warm eyes. He watched Tony with what he could only guess was an apprehensive kind of curiosity, as if he wanted to come closer but wasn’t sure if he should.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Tony promised, thinking maybe that might help.

“I’m not afraid of you,” the creature responded without missing a beat, and with a now determined set in his eyes he pushed himself up onto the rock on which Tony sat, and inspected him from up close.

“You saved my life,” Tony murmured, a little bit taken aback by just how close the stunning creature suddenly was, “Why?”

“You kissed me,” the other was once again quick to reply, “Why?”

Tony felt like he was being mocked, but how could he be offended by something like that when the siren looked at him with those large, doe eyes of his.

“Because I wanted to,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re beautiful.”

“Why?”

Tony chuckled. It startled the siren, who flinched back, but only briefly.

“I don’t know. I just do.”

The young man seemed to mull that over for a minute, eyes narrowing but not viciously, only contemplating his next move. Tony didn’t mind that one bit, because it meant that he could look at the creature a little more in the meantime, admire him from up close the same way he’d wanted to do for much longer back in the water. He didn’t look any less enchanting than he had back there, and Tony was much more comfortable on dry land, too.

Perhaps a bit too comfortable in the presence of a siren who could easily sing that beautiful song of his again and drag his ass to Davy Jones’ locker after all.

But the stunning, young thing only reached for his hand, brought it up, and leaned his cheek into it. Just like back in the water.

“You don’t like females,” the creature murmured contemplatively.

Tony shook his head no.

“But you like me,” he continued.

Tony nodded his head yes. His face softened, and something in the siren’s expression changed.

“I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

.

When Peter kissed the pirate captain again, hidden away from his siblings, he knew he was doing something forbidden. He told himself he was just trying something new, just testing the dark-haired man’s limits, seeing how far he could bend him until he broke. That was all.

But if his sisters found no captain for breakfast in the morning, and no Peter among the rocks they slept on, then it was hardly his fault.

For once in his life, the enchanter had become the enchanted, and there was nothing Peter could do to stop it.

As if he ever would.

[delightsan]

FLAME (II) | CS

⁕ genre: fuck boy!san, bad boy!au, college!au, fluff, angst, enemies to lovers

⁕ pairings: choi san x fem!reader

⁕ words: 6.4k

⁕ description: keeping the title of being the best student on campus isn’t easy for you, especially when your mind was occupied only by him and his annoying smirk, the popular bad boy who once decided to sets on fire your heart without anybody’s permission

⁕ warnings: explicit language, suggestive remarks, smoking & alcohol

read the prologue and the chapter one

The sociable cafeteria is filled with people whose names you can't remember, but their curious stares welcome you with affectionate embrace, as soon you enter the huge space of the room. The embrace you crave, since San planted the promising rays of hope in your heart, it's devastating to you, because the only concern which matters are his gleaming eyes, full of chestnut color and mischievous spark. His presence is absolutely breathtaking. You're indeed a fragile prisoner of his burning touch, and the lustful gaze, soon as you would gentle rub affectionate circles on his arms tattoo's beauty, the night before, where the only sound was your rapid heartbeats and heavy breathing. He left the blurry trace of passionate kisses down your pale neck to remind you about his intentions, when you see the purple marks of his unspoken words.

Choi San's eerie relationship with you are the cause of your ruthless nights, but you will gladly suffer for him if it meant he would hold your hand in his warm palms, and smooch your face in kisses.

Rushing at the end of long line to the bufet, you scan the surroundings in a haste glance to spot his glowing figure, seated between the rest of his friends, it's utterly mindblowing, the way your stomach churns with pleasant anxiety when his starry eyes meet with yours. San's dazzling existence throws you into the vortex of emotions, where the love is struggling against the malicious demons of your fears. He's dressed in his usual clothes, the color black highlights his sharp facial features, and the used martens on his feet shows his rebellious side. 

You bow in grateful at the elderly woman, who give you the meal of the day, thanking her for the extra portion of rice, as your stomach grumble at the lack of the daily food intake. The kindly gesture make you smile in delight, while the other students talk feverishly about the last soccer game in which the boy, whose angelic voice is like the sweetest honey, Jongho won a golden tropheum for the school's team. He becomes a hero in the eyes of the thousands of people and Hongjoong's, who is proud to call himself a father figure. ATEEZ have a lot of outstanding achievements on their side, they are a gang of gifted kids with deadly stares and auras, for example Hongjoong godly hands are great at crafting, he is a owner of his own fashion brand, called "star1117", in which "Mars" is a main model, and that's your beloved saviour Seonghwa. Yunho's long to heaven legs are born to dance on the big scene, along with Wooyoung's powerful movements and San's acute technique. Yeosang is the expanded mind behind the drones, Mingi is a soundcloud rapper, who still takes baby steps in his career, but is already famous on the campus, and Jongho is a star of the football team.

The pretty girl, who would wave in excitment at seeing your presence in the entrance to the cafeteria, before your spirit had lost his way on earth, to land in the gates of hell by San's intoxicating appearance is your bestfriend. Her name is Yeji and she is a lovable person, the definition of your half missing, with a adventurous heart and daring smile, catching the attention for her stunning looks in both genders, but the confessions of the admirers are always denied in order to search for her unrequited love in Wooyoung's sparkling eyes. You know she deserves someone better than a mere boy, but Wooyoung is a perfect example of being out of her league. The hands contaminated with sins of his could never reach her, as you protect her through the life, like a guardian angel, who failed himself agaisnt the bright side of good, as he signed a pact with the devil, to let his heart rotts in hell.

She is excessively pure to be in a dark place, the same as you, where you are fighting with your sins, doubouting the feelings of innermost love and the power of God. To be honest, you had grown to have a loads of faith in every existence, which drifts in the subconsciousness of your mind, while trying to defeat the ghosts of cruel prejudice, as you want to believe in his sincere words and his innocence. Perhaps Wooyoung's adorable giggles and goofy smiles, that creates with care his mesmerizing crescents eyes, which are underlined with smoky eyeliner, aren't plaugued with demons, maybe his easy going aura isn't fraud in lies, maybe he is way more different than you think.

Truth to be told, you shouldn't ponder over it and you shouldn't be hanging around San or his friends as much as you do, but you can't help the desire to.

You greet Yeji with a soft grin, muttering a faintly "hi", while taking the free spot beside her at the wooden table, at which she beams at you in delighment, happy about your your presence, but soon her strong gaze gets bored of you, and wanders towards the source of her happiness. "What's so interesting, hm?" you say, acting dumbfounded at her behaviour to ignore the pain inside your chest, the betrayl it is. She's long lost to the paradise of him, Jung Wooyoung is the reason behind her loving stares and fast heartbeat, you failed miserably at being her guardian angel, but maybe that's what the destiny write in their galaxies.

Yeji bites her plump lips in anxiety, curling a lock of her black hair between fingers, the feeling of infatuation on her face, and you sigh, while she spares you a glance, it's filled with deep affection, and a smile ghosts over her cherry lips. The view of the boys belonging to the ATEEZ came into your frame, as she bumps her head towards them, where all of them eating their lunch in peace, and her smile is reciprocated by Wooyoung. "Oh, Wooyoung? Is something there between you and him?"

"No, well not yet of course, but maybe soon." Yeji says with a sorrow, it's obvious, groaning in annoyance like a lovestruck teeneger, who can't decide which kind of dress would be the best option for a memorable date with a crush, a cute ribbon dress or sexy tight dress. The mischievous cupidin, who travels the world in search of his miserable victims, not only hit you both with his influential arrow, making you a fools for his entertainment at your clumsy attempts to feel being beloved.

She is dedicateted to the idea of Jung Wooyoung being selected by gods to be her first and last love, but he likes to deny the allegations of being the leading light in her life, even if she deeply cares for him and treasure the feeling of dedication to him.

You want to beliefe it also, maybe some souls are meant to be together, bound by the red thread of destiny to the end of their fulfilled life.

The obnoxious sight of the stupid girls at the left side of the room, who would swoon over the holy eightly of boys, in which Wooyoung's high pitched laugh is heard everywhere, because San's another corny joke about big dicks is hilarious to him, is a painful sight for Yeji. Her significant other is looking at the stranger blonde with a lewd eyes, the picture is what trashes violently your heart and your lungs feel as if on fire, you pity your besfriend, she doesn't deserve the treatment of feeding up with his false hope. Jung Wooyoung likes to play a sick roulette with her genuine feelings towards him, doesn't give a single fuck about the consequences of his sinful actions.

Choi San does seem to care, though, because he catches your furious stare, which could burn the holes in Wooyoung's shaky with laughter figure, the devil itself apologize for the behaviour of his beloved friend. Bad habits are tough to break, blinded by a hand of foolish lust in frail attempts to take the boredom out by being an asshole, as the bitter aftertaste of forbidden fruit never tasted so good. You smile softly to him, to reassure him it's not his fault, because he can't control the actions of the other person. Rubbing small circles on the back of your friend to lift her ruined mood, while Seonghwa notices your gaze filled with adoration towards San, he smirks in a mockery, and you make a disgusted face, as Hongjoong giggles like a sweet kid at your exchanges, but you throw at Seonghwa a middle finger, at which he gaps offended. San's concerned face is what make you bashful of your previous poor actions, as he narrow his cat like eyes at you in order to search for a cause of your outbusrt.

Fuck, Seonghwa you are dead to me.

You hide shyly behind Yeji's small shoulders like a scaredy cat, who was caught at scratching the favourite furniture of his owners, the feeling of shame is creeping at your face, while avoiding his puzzling glare. "So he likes me, huh?" you whisper in a hush, trying to convince yourself once again about the sincerity of those significant words, which sound like sweet nothings in a romantic fairytale in your mouth. The tight grip of yours at the girl's pink blouse is a definition of your tiresome doubts, you wish to the vivid stars to save you from oppression of the snares of love.

You don’t know when you fell in love with him. You don’t even know if you fell for him at some point in life or if you’ve loved him from the beginning of your life, or maybe far before the two of you existed, but his declaration of love locks you in a cage of wonders, making you a helpless bird. 

Yeji is astonished, when she comprehend your remark, and she quirks her eyebrows at you. "Wait, hold on. (Y/N) is there someone interested in you or my delusional mind is playing tricks on me, because I heard that someone likes you."

The light shade of pink adorns your face like a spreading flu, the trembling of your hands and the dizziness in your head it's the effects of your disease, which San is the cause. Unlike the flu, it won't disappear, when you treat it with a care, the only way to get rid of the disease it's by hurting him right through with a piercing bullet, but you can't do it, when he looks at you with a smile, that can melt your heart. You quickly shake your head, don't knowing about the breath you were holding, when she ask you the question. "No, what do you mean." She wouldn't let you go so easily, she do know about your defensive position, as you like to run away without  giving a proper answer.

She sighs. "Okay, listen. Maybe I'm not the smartest kid in our school like you, but I can't ignore the way San is looking at you. He is eye fucking you everytime he sees you, it's fascinating to per say." she mocks you in a childish manner. "What the fuck? Yeji, shut up! It's embarrassing, while you say it like that." "I don't care, tell me what's between the two of you." 

To fight her in an unequal battle is hopeless, because the possibility of you winning is none, the victory is negligible, as you would never win an argument with her strong points. She is like a brave lioness who defends her children against the threats by other animals, she also have a soft spot, which is Jung Wooyoung, but you wouldn't dare to touch the burning subject of her love, as you could die in the agony, and there would be nothing left but ashes of your mistake. "Fine, you ass." you roll your eyes at her, maybe admitting to your obscure desires is a good step to believe in impossible. The weight of your insistent insecurity is tugging you down, but your desire to fly between the old friends, made in heaven where the clouds are the epitome of warm embrace is stronger. "I like San." you confess. "He said he likes me, when I was with him in the library, he confessed to me about his love, and the world suddenly started to overflow with it colors.  I want to try, but my insecurities are making it hard to believe, but we kissed-" Your voice is shakier and more broken than you’d ever thought it could be.

"Hey, don't. You need to understand that you are amazing." she cooes. "I'm not surprised he likes you, you have heart made of gold and personality who shines like the brightest gem in the world, everything about you screams perfect." her reassuring words, which soothe your strained nerves in pleasure of joy, as you nod in agreement are a reason behind your shy smile. Yeji is a great friend, you believe that the only reason you became best friends was the fact that you didn’t let her vanish into the sea of doubtness, when there was no one who would extend a helping hand to her lifeless body. "Give yourself some time and most importantly trust him, everyone deserve a chance."

Your romance is not like any other love story unless you consider painful longing to the point of self-destruction as normal occurrences, he demolishes your soul and paints the idea of spending more time with him into the world of unknown, because you are, once again, convinced that Choi San was born to mess with your heart. The idea of being devoted lovers, burns the unseen scars at the pit of your stomach, because it feels distant, but also so close within reach, it sounds unfeasible, but also so beautiful, as you think about his hot touches on your skin. You care for him deeply, he knows the struggle of being misjudged just based on the foolish decisions made in past, but everyone do mistakes, which leads to a irritating effects in the future, haunting us like the worst nightmare.

We need to understand that people aren't faultless. 

The longing picture of San's getting out of shackles of the rebel, sealed by his sins, drifts into the subconscious state of your mind like a dove of hope, letting you imagine to be the person, who is willing to help him and experience his transformation, it's fullfilling your senses. To dream about the future next to him, where kisses are laced with love, the passion and where fondly words of utter adoration are whispered in the deadly night is deadlier than anything else in this world. But you pray to God, promising to be a good cause of his wrongdoings, which will lead to his change, because no suffering like this would ever break him free. "You are right, thank you."

"We are friends, it's not a big deal. Now promise me, you will never doubt yourself again." 

"I promise." you smile.

You're deep lost in the meaningful conversation with Yeji to notice the flaming presence of San, whose delicate hand touches your fragile shoulder to get your attention on him, and you melt the moment his burning touch you. He smells like cotton candy, when he wasn't smoking, and his whole aura seems to brighten entirely at the prospect of your sparkling eyes on his, and you allow a giggle to slip past your, when his cherry lips grins at you in a toothy smile, the round cheeks after the meal makes him adorable, how can he be a personification of the devil. His red hair is styled back, showing perfectly his forehead and the intensity of his eyes, the charming dimples you grow to love don't ever disappoint to take away your breath. "Be at the library at 5PM, don't be late." His tone is soft and gentle and you decide, that you hate Choi San for making you fall so carelessly in love with him. He was gone, by the end of the bell sound, and his intoxicating scent also gone with him.

And the warmth, you are already missing.

"Good luck, (Y/N)." Yeji squeezes your arm, and make her way towards the next lecture.

The rest of the day went smoothly, sharing some classes with San doesn't help you with your studies, it's a poison to your grades, but an antidote for your lonliness, as the monotonous lecture with Mr. Kim is coming to an end soon. You chuckle at his little love letters, which he puts in your sweater pocket, most of them consists of a cheesy pickup lanes, like "For some reason, I was feeling a little off today. But when you came along, you definitely turned me on." and "Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?" His hot breath on your neck, makes you shiver in a pleasure, when you sit in front of him, as you decide to abandon your pet's teacher seat in the displeasure of the scolding look of the lecturer, but you couldn't care less. "Come meet me at your locker." the last letter says, and you are introduced the state of euphoria.

The bell once again rings, not only signaling the end of the lecture, but also the rapid beating of your heart.

You turn around, exited to see his beautiful face, but you are slightly late, as he are already nowhere to be seen in the class along with his table partner Yunho, who reminds you of a big polar bear. Packing your belongings, you got a message form an unknown number, which shocks you to the core, "Don't trust him, he is not worth it." those words are driving you mad crazy. What the hell. You don't think much of it, but there is an empty feeling in your chest, as if a dark force settled down your stomach to bug out your day. Choi San has turned your life upside down and has brought you onto an edge that you enjoyed more than you cared to admit, it was too late to take a step back.

"Fuck this." you curse under your breath, exciting the class to look for San.

You take the steps, needed to arrive next to his strong figure, Yunho nowhere to be seen, and you offer him the bestest smile you can, perhaps, filled with every emotion you can't hide. The air around you is suffocating, he radiates an angelic glow, uncommon to him, you can't help but place a gentle kiss on his cheek, when he leanded nonchalantly against your locker, his shoulder relaxes visibly at your loving presence. San sends you a sly grin and tugs at the end of your blue sweater to draw you into his arms, eyes focused onto the sweet source of his happiness. "What was that for?" he pats the top of your head and places his hand on the small of your back, his actions are enough to make your heart stop beating, because his beauty defined by high cheekbones and dark arched eyebrows are the defenition of perfection. 

"I don't know." you splutter. "I suddenly got an urge to do it or maybe I wanted to prove to you about the theory of meteorite impact to the ground, which would kill all of the dinosaurs. " 

"Oh, why did you make me aware of death of dinosaurs, it's sad. Can you kiss me again to make my pain go away?"

"Kiddo." his forehead presses against yours, as you lean into him and press your lips against his ear, hands intertwined tightly and the scent still overwhelming. You place a fond kiss at the hem of his ear, whispering about sweet nothings, the boldness of your actions are enough to make him stiff in place, as you take your time to look at him, to drink in his perfect features. He’s sun kissed, you notice, and his lips are red and curved into a small smile. Choi San has turned your life upside down and has brought you onto an edge that you enjoyed more than you care to admit. "No more kisses." you laugh.

You pull away from him, and his bottom lip pops out, forming a pout and you have a strong desire to trace it with your fingers and your mouth like you did back then on the balcony, where the bright sun embodied your serene emotions. "I can always steal it, princess." he teases, and you break out into an easy grin, as he placed a chaste kiss at your soft lips.

"Let's go. I'm not in the mood to study anymore." 

"There is still one lesson ahead of us, San."

"So what? I want to spend rest of the day with my girlfriend. Now come on baby, don't make me beg you." 

He promised to make you fall in a twisted snares of love with him, his burning touches which ignites the fire will be the answer to your hopeless eyes, and he will prove the sincerity of his intentions, when you decide to run away with the knight in laether jacket to find the source of your happiness. There is no place for deep reflections, you want him to degrade you with his dark life, and to be a part of his kingdom, because ruling without the queen was already hard for him. The world can burn in noxious agony, if it means he would be there with your connected soul, holding you closely in a affectionate embrace, as your trembling hands finds way to his sharp face adorned with the most attractive smile.

"Fine, let's go." you mutter under your breath, and San lets out a quiet and triumphant yes slip from his lips, as he eagerly grabs your hand in his warm one, to assure you about the correctness of this choice and leads you to the courtyard, where his black motorbike is parked. 

Choi San is the love of your life, you decide, as you watch him, hand held tightly by him. San is everything you want and more, he is fullfilling your senses with wholesome ecstasy, you drink up his presence in the gleaming sun, a view satisfying like the miracle oasis in the middle of tropical desert. You look at him and smile. 

He is beautiful.

He attentively puts a helmet on your head, his face scrunch in concentration, his tongue pokes out of his mouth, when he was focused on protecting you from inevitable, he flashes you a dimple grin, which you return. "It will protect you. I hope you aren't afraid of speed." The thrilling feeling of adrenaline kicks in, as San's motor roars in the air like a obsessed mantra, your heart beating abruptly in your chest at the frantic sound. You are terrified, but the look of pacification on his blissful face, you long to is enough for you to hop into the embrace of death, hugging his calming back from behind. "Good girl."

The fast ride through the city with San reminds you of playing with fire, it could be a lethal weapon in the wrong hands, taking away your reckless life, when you handle it without proper caution. Life isn't beautiful without taking a risk, perhaps it's easier to put your faith in devil's sharp claws, than look for the light in angel's halo, because San's calming presence is enough for you to endure the feeling of frighten. He is aware of your trembling hands, you can't control, the swift breaths you take to soothe your racing nerves, while you melt into his figure to gain the courage, as he speeds up down the road. The destination is unknown to you, he hasn't metioned where he wish to take you, kissing you with the burning passion, holding you close in his arms till your worries of unrequited love vanish into the void, leaving a space for an attachment.

You trust San with the remaining strength in you, it isn't difficult, but you can't resist fluttering shut your eyes to ease the throbbing of your heart, you know nothing awful will happend to you, if he is here to remind you of his close proximity. "Baby, we are here. Open your pretty eyes, you can't miss the view." The ride came to an end when his divine voice comes out of his throat, the moment his yearning palms touch your gentle face to reveal you from the helmet, it's devastating for him, he can't let go of your pure smiles and soft chuckles at his sugared praises about your bravery. He is mesmerized by your angelic purity, the taste of blissful heaven never tasted so delectable at his tongue, as he molds your lips in a heated adventure between clouds. His intoxicating scent make you lightheaded, teeth clashing together in a messy battle of dominance and you let his lustful desires win, the low whimper escapes from his mouth. Believing in God is unnecessary for him, but believing in the miracles of blue paradise is right, because he could meet you.

The mesmerizing view of ocean absorbs your attention, it's beautiful, the sun is near to set and the colors of orange and red are visible in the sky, interwined together in a fierce dance to create a gorgeous convolution of emotions, where the stray souls would find the answer for their longing questions. San's head falls down into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet perfume, the smell he craves, his warm embrace on your waist grow in strength, as the cold breeze hit his back. He place another chaste kiss down your neck, your delicate hand is gripping at the red hair on top of his head, when your lips tremble at the close inticimaty, but he pulls away completely and you feel cold and empty, as he flashes you a sly grin. 

"I thought it would be nice to enjoy the sunset, while we will be busy making out like horny teenegers." San's glowing eyes forms the crescents, his sharp features softens in the vivid twilight, when he teases you, as he ruffles your hair with a precious laugh. He is uterrly beutiful in every way, you think, from the reflection of luminescent stars in his eyes, the freckles on his neck made of stardust, you yearn to explore with your desirable touch, to his flawlessly shaped waist, as it fits perfectly in your arms. But he is brighter than all stars above. "It was a joke of course, but it doesn't sounds so bad in my opinion." He flashes you a mischievous grin, eyes flaming as he stared you down with an interest.

You giggle, subtly pressing harder against him, the heat rolling off his body, he will be the death of you, but the state of limerence is amazing, you can't restrain from his charms, the God had taken his time with him, so why he had to banish him to the gates of hell? "You're gross." you flicker his forehead, smiling with adoration, when his face pouts a disappointment, a little whine escapes his mouth. Then you realize the God is awful, maybe San isn't uninfected with sins, he never prayed, but he tries to be good in his own, unique way. 

Because Choi San is open minded, the heavy curtains of the cruel world aren't enough to fool his divine eyes, and maybe you're dancing with the devil, but it doesn't frighten you. Being partly good is better than being artificial pure. San laid his leather jacket that smells like his cologne on your shoulders, as he sees you shivering under the circumstance of cold wind, his arms now exposed fully to you, the antic makes you blush and you throw him a sheepish smile to hide the cherry like flush. "No, just madly in love with you, princess." he takes out the cigarette from the back pocket of his jeans, lighting it up immediately, with a cunning smirk, it's the sin he is addicted to, the smoke surrounding him seems to embrace him gracefully.

The motorcycle seat beneath you is like a safe home to you, when still in place without the danger of speed, it's comforting you in every possible way, and his godly presence makes it even better, it's like the best antidote for solitude. "Are you always this smooth with your words?" you ask, biting your trembling lips, as his intense stare is burning holes on your redden face. He hums in dismiss, heart beating faster and faster as the seconds passed by. "Can I have one?" your breath hitches in your throat, when his large palms clutches your chin in a gentle touch. 

Choi San is the cause of the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

"Can you be honest with me? Tell me, have you ever smoke?" he says, searching in your eyes for a genuine answer, but you can never lie to him, as the weight of the repulsiveun untruth is inordinately heavy, you couldn't carry it throught the life. 

"No."

"Then the answer is also no, angel." his delicate grip on you has loosened, as he lets go of your chin, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you whimper in his chest at the lose of his warmth. He doesn't fancy the idea of ​​you being addicted to the awful nicotine because of him, the deadly treat isn't worth losing your flawless purity, and for San you are a good girl made of pure porcelain, too fragile for this dark world. Good girls don't smoke. You clutch at his black shirt, as he lowers his head in order to move his lips to your cheek, while you inhale deeply his intoxicating scent and you’ve never felt more alive than you did then, in San's arms – the one boy who sets your heart in flames.

"But I want to try, please San. Let me, it will be my first and last time. I promise." you whine, the high hopes in your mind, because San can't resist your soft pleadings, as he is a slave of your angelic voice, but he doesn't mind as long, as you are his cause of rapid heartbeat. Truth to be told, both of you are too lost into the world of love, Choi San has committed to you, and you seal the deal with the devil itself, as you press an open mouthed kiss on his neck and then on his jaw, landing on his lips at the end. And yes, maybe it can bring the pain and sorrow, but the embrace of the devil is worth it.

He chuckles, and it’s low and throaty, his right hand ends up on your neck in a firm grip, leaving a trace of hell, which burns you alive. You aren't afraid of his crimes anymore, beacuse Choi San is the reason of the flowing sensation in your veins, as he pushes you harder into his body, taking a deep inxhale from the cigarette with the other hand. He molds together your plump lips in a sensual kiss, the other hand finds the way to your cheek, the metal cold rings on his fingers are sending you to overdive, as his mouth opens against yours and his tongue licks eagrly at the entrance of your lips. You give in to his burning touch, mouth feeling hot and a heavy, the sensation of fullness settles into the pit of your chest, as he kisses you harder and more urgent, exhaling the deathly smoke into your lungs. San is needy, but you don't mind, as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. There’s no reason to hold back, you desire his proximaty and he desires yours, it's the definition of selling your soul to the bad side.

Your fingers reach for his hair, feeling the fluffiness of his locks, as San breaks the kiss, when the overflow of smoke in your mouth chokes you, and your hazy eyes still fixated on his swollen lips, which forms a cocky grin. "I can't believe you said it was your last, when you are looking at me like this, sweetheart." You struggle to breathe, as his hands cup your face in between them, rough fingertips rubbing circles into the skin, and you blush harder than you thought possible, when a low and guttural moan leaves the back of his throat. "Fuck, it's hard for me to restrain."

"Sorry."

The overwhelming weight of the intense battle, filled with lustful touches and hot kisses, leaves you hot-blooded, and you wish it would last longer, because San is the reason of your mad addiction and sins, which pulls you down into the hole of thirst. You don't regret giving up, the pit in your stomach deepens and your thoughts swirl around in your head like sweet promises, because you can see the love oozing in his chestnut eyes, and you swear you fell in love with him once again. San rests his forehead against your heart, the sound of your rapid heartbeat is like a beloved lullaby for him, cooing him to fall into the marvellous dreamland, but the gates to the underworld of Hades are watching him, proud of his actions, because you sinned, and the God will never forgive you, but if that means rotting in hell together with San, then it's alright to do so. You are sure that you can endure it, because Choi San is your medicine for pain.

"Don't be, it's my fault. I got too carried away, but I can't help it, you are driving me crazy." his fingers brush at the strands falling into your eyes and he presses another quick kiss onto your longing mouth. There is no air left in your lungs, and they burn with need yet you neglect them. "Do you like the place?" he flashes you a gentle smile, pushing up the jacket on you, which had slip when you were too engaged in each other mouths, and he moves away completly from you to let you see the breattaking view, as he stands next to you. It eases your neglected pain.

The beautiful place pulled straight out of a fairy tale, reminds you of the place, where you had spend most of your childhood, but you can't recognize it, as your memories are blurry. "Yes, I do!" you answer, looking at the sunset in awe. "I feel like I was here before, but I can't remember it." you sigh. "I have a feeling that I used to spend a lot of time here, coll-" you say in a daze, but San interrupts you with a unreadable grin, when you look his way, to see how the sun is glowing at his honey like skin, making him a untouchable piece of art, the messy hair stand on all sides from the previous actions, but he still looks saintly.

"Collecting the colorful sheels and screaming about the invisible fishes in the water, which would scare you to the bones?" he finishes the sentence for you, and you, quite simply put, forget how to breathe. San smiles a bright smile, pearly whites on display, and you see the glimmer of the orbs in his eyes. You blink at him in confusion. "Yeah, something like that, but how did you know?" you ask bewildered by his words.

"I was the kid with the blonde streak at the top of his head. Girls swooned over me, and I only had my eyes for a girl, who would smooch my bruises on knees, from falling too many times on the hard rocks near the shore." he chuckles, finally looking at you with beaming eyes full of adoration, the late realization hit you like a bolt from the heaven.

The story of you and Choi San didn't start the moment the saviour Seonghwa introduced him to you, but it started at the very beginning of the hot summer holiday, both of you were still an small mere imitaions of your parents, made of nothing, but the blank pages, who later would be neglected by your bad words and poor choices. You met him at the age of 12, he wasn’t the tallest, but he was endearing, when he walked confidently into the blazing sand, in his hands toys and a happy smile on his face. San had one desire back then, the childish one, to defeat everyone in the competiton of building the highest sand castle, and the prize was a date with the most beautiful girl on the beach, and yes you were her.

He succesfuly won the first place, after many devastating for a kid failures, but his motivation to win was more powerful, just like him today. In this young age boys grossed you out, they were noisy and disgusting, and they were talking only about games, but he was different, a little mysterious. You were under some sort of aura that managed to take your breath away even back then, when he was nothing more than a boy, who was raised by his granparents, with a stupid name "Shiber Choi", but he soon turned to be your best friend and that's how your two months teeneger crush, filled with nervewrecking adventures and deep conversation started.

"What? That was you, no fucking way, San! You were my first love, you asshole!" You flush in delight and raise on your tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to his mellow cheek, putting your hand over his heart. "I love you, San." You whisper quietly into his shirt, sound muffled by the fabric and you hope he hears you, especially now, that you are held by him so tightly. He hugs you tighter and kisses the top of your head, fingers coming to comb through the hair at the nape of your neck. 

Choi San is your first love and you hope to also be your last.

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch2 Idea Forming

Subcon Forest was not a place for just anyone to enter and exit as they please. There was a reason these woods had such a feared reputation and was rumored to be haunted. Because it was. By the King Snatcher of Subcon(as he liked to refer to himself) and his ghastly assortment of minions and dwellers behind him as his undead army, anyone who went in NEVER came out which added to the entire fightfulness of it all!!...Well no one except two little giggling girls who were currently playing with toys and crayons. The dark sky and dead trees twisted with dangerous vines as the sun dared not shine here. If that won't convince you to stay away then maybe the giant chunk of the forest that always so dangerously cold will? Or perhaps the section that's always burning bright with enchanted flames? Or maybe the ghostly king who claimed trespassers' souls as his own or the rumor of a powerful witch? Either way, whatever helps to keep tresspassers out he was all for it. But he had no real responsibilities today. The brats could wonder around his woods as long as they didn't go near the frozen half or Vanessa, or they could go exploring on any other part of the planet for all he cared. As long as they were both back home and in bed by six he was fine with it. Right now he was sitting down enjoying his book of dark tales and legends as he relaxed in his home. The old book in his claws as glowing yellow eyes scanned over the story unfolding from it's yellow pages.

Down in the world unknown there laid a kingdom drab and dark. Where darkness and shadows collided and lived in fear and power. One would be mad to even think about stepping in a place like this. Where the dead are gone but still there, the shadows played and roamed and full of terror. A frightful place brace heros dare not venture unless they wish to meet a tragic fate. Yes. This one place was alone ruled by a power hungry spirit, spited by his love in life and now seeks vengeance on any mortal who dared be foolish enough to be beckoned into his awaiting claws-

SQUEAK!!

.....Snatcher slowly looked up from his book with a small frown. The small express owl plush slowly slid off his face and fell onto his lap with another small squeaky toy sound and he stared down at the little girl who threw it at him and frowning back up at the ghost, and he rolled his yellow eyes. The book in his claws closed and placed down as he gave the girl what she obviously wanted, his attention.

"What is it kiddo? You know it's rude to throw things at people and interrupt someone reading. I thought I taught you two better than that."

"Can you fix it?" She walked up to the edge of his chair and stood on her tiptoes, poking her head over the chair and placing her hands on his lap.

"Fix what?"

She pointed to the toy in his lap and he blinked down at it. A noticeable tear in it's backside was present to him. He rose a brow further before looking back to the small girl by the chair. Bow had come up to join her and now both were peeking over the chair at him, and he sighed picking up said toy with a squeak. "You couldn't fix the toy yourself?"

Both shook their heads before Hattie spoke back up, "You said we weren't aloud to touch any needles, and we don't know how to sew anything."

He still stared at them for a moment before he sighed and forced his floating body up and over to his bookshelf in the corner and the small sewing kit on top of it. It was soon in his hands and the girls climbed onto the giant chair to have a better look at the floating sewing kit and the ghost who started repairing the small toy in his claws. The needle floating easily through the soft fabric of the toy as the floating needle pulled the thread through the tear, before he flicked a clawed finger and pulled the thread tight and the hole was closed up and tied in a tight knot to secure it in place. As he turned back around with the newly fixed toy in his hand, he snapped with his free hand and the kit immediately put itself away as he floated back over and handed the toy back to the two which was grabbed by Bow. They thanked the enormous undead creature by hugging his hand and jumping off said chair. Running out the doorway and laughing their heads off as the two chased each other around. He sighed...a rare small smile coming over his face before he settled back down into the comfy chair. Kids. So full of energy and laughter. Now where was he? OH YES!! With another snap the book went back to it's master's awaiting claws and opened at his own leisure. Now let's pick up where he left off shall we?

The old dusty book crinkled in his hands when he turned the page and began reading the page he left off at. He always enjoyed reading, it helped pass the time and it was one thing he could do now more than ever now that he had no real responsibilities....He glanced back out side real quick where the girls were currently sitting on the ground and using a large mushroom near the ground as a table for them to draw their pictures on and be surrounded by their small toys. Hattie absolutely LOVED exploring and running and jumping from building and trees with her weird alien powers, something about the world she was from having denser gravity and her kind used to space traveling and having to travel in a similar situation on land. But Bow could do similar things but in a less energetic way....When asked Hattie proudly stated she taught her everything, but the smaller curly haired girl preferred to just draw and play with toys rather than adventure. It was kinda cute the way they'd just compromised about what to do everyday. But kids will be kids. With a small smile on his face and book in hands he looked back to the book.

The creature of vengeance was known as one of promises and dealings. Whether If one were to want something most dear to their heart and was determined and pure, or if their heart was filled with greed, envy, and lust he would grant your reply if you were brave or stupid enough to find him. It was when one day a child from a nearby village heard of this rumor that they were excited to find out if it was true or not. Against their parents and everyone else's wishes and warnings, the small child had snuck out to venture into the forbidden dark woods. The brambles scraped and left cuts on their body, the creatures chased after and threatened to eat them if they didn't turn back now, for darker and more sinister things slept in these woods, but bravely the child went on. On and on on their journey to really see this sinister ghost who granted wishes and promises that the mortal eye would repulse to believe. Until the sinister avenger had been found and the massive shadow beckoned the child closer with a boney rigged hand.

"You have traveled far and withstood the tests my forces forwarded. For that you have earned the right to one miracle granted to you. But a warning you have also earned. Be warned, with a pure and honest heart comes great rewards. With a heart who bleeds nothing but black with greed and jealousy, a foul end you shall meet. Think about the consequences greatly, for the repercussions shall be swift and tight. Think well, dear child."

The small child dared to smile at the creature and simply reply, "I have no need for any treasures or anything of preciousness near me. I solely only wished for to see myself if the avenger of shadows was a true sight. And now that I have seen you for what a true being you are, I will simply be leaving satisfied my wish was fulfilled."

The answer of the child amused the ancient spirit and he chuckled his hollow laugh at the very notion of it all.

"Wise answer to an otherwise difficult mortal choice. For that you shall still be granted a prize for your efforts. Name one and answer wisely."

The small child as said had no need for such items like treasure and fortune, but they knew that the child's hard working mother were in need of some fortune in her life. So with a kind heart, the child looked to the spirit and asked for their miracle. "My mother works oh so hard to take care of me. It would be so nice for her to have just a little more luck on her side. Oh spirit, let me repay her for all her kindness she has shown me."

"Your wish shall be granted. A selfless act is always it's own reward, but be wary of those who wish to use those fortunes to their own will."

The child was permitted a safe leave back to their home and as promised their selfless act of kindness was granted by the spirit of shadows. The child and their mother mysteriously found an old box in their pantry one day that they had never known of before and upon opening it discovered many, many priceless jewels. The likes of which they had never seen before. With this new found fortune, the mother and child were able to gain a plentiful farm with all the necessities they needed to have a plentiful life. Farther down in the years the mother even remarried one of the strongest most handsome men in the small village. But this man was nothing but green with want, and treated the mother and her child terribly-

SQUEAK!!

....He looked up again with a frown when another plush toy hit the side of his head. This time it was a Mafia man that fell down to rest in his open book and he looked at the two girls staring up at him again and sighed. "Ok. What now?"

Bow pointed to the toy. "The arm is falling off. Can you fix it please?"

He frowned down at both of them as they innocently stared back and he groaned. Beckoning a finger to the sewing kit on the shelf before putting down the book and picking up the second toy, and true to Bow's word, there was a tear in the left arm threatening to let the whole arm fall off if it wasn't fixed. The kit flew over to him and out came the same needle and thread, and again the same process repeated as he grumpily started sewing the small toy's arm back into place. Within two minutes it was as good as new and handed back to the excited little girls, and the kit back into it's own place.

"Here. But next time, don't throw it at my face ok?...And let me know you want something fixed before you interrupt me, it's so rude."

Both girls giggled and again ran back off as he groaned and repicked up his book from his noodle lap, and started reading again.

He was lazy, rude, and had a heart full of greed. Seeping of those who had better and helping him in life. But one fateful day everything changed. For one day he asked the child's mother a question.

"My dear wife. You know I love you dearly, but I must ask you. Where did you receive such wealth and fortune."

"Why, from a old wooden box in the pantry," she replied happily, "And inside the little wooden chest was gems and riches beyond our wildest dreams."

"Yes, yes! But where did it come from?"

"I know not how it got there or where it came from, but my child and I are oh so happy to have received such a delightful fortune. How we may live happily for a long while."

Her husband was displeased with such an answer and once again asked but this time to the child. The child happily told the man his venture into the woods and his encounter with the spirit of shadows, filling the man's heart with more greed. That very night when the family slept, the man snuck out and made his own way into the deep woods of shadows and fears. Brambles cut his clothing, he cursed those who dare chase him and snap at his hinds as he ran, but the greed and lust in his heart was strong. So strong he persisted his heart green with envy. Alas finally he arrived and looking as though some creature had mangled him with their claws. The spirit was beckoning him closer with a bony rigged hand and spoke.

"Oh one who's heart is sewn with greed and plight. You have sought me through danger and fright. Your actions of greed are inexcusable but like many before you have made it through the path of darkness. For that you have earned the right to one miracle, but also a warning. Be warned, with a pure and honest heart comes great rewards. With a heart who bleeds nothing but black with greed and jealousy, a foul end you shall meet. Think about the consequences greatly, for the repercussions shall be swift and tight. Oh one who comes to me with a black heart for his own wishes. I offer this to you so you may choose your wish wisely."

The man paid no attention to the wise words of the ghost nor did he think about any real consequences for his actions as he spoke what he oh so desired.

"Give me more riches than any man shall have!! Make my fortune one who will make me a fortunate man!! A bright castle and beautiful jewels is what I seek and most desire!!"

"A answer I foresaw and one your shall have for not heeding my warnings. Oh man of greed and selfishness, you shall indeed have your wish awaiting you home. But do not be surprised when your unfortunate fate you shall unevitably meet. Now be gone creature of greed. My domain is not fit for one of you."

The man left for his home and once his got there his had his miracle in the form of the purest black horse with a magnificent couch of ebony, inside the couch was boxes and jewels of every imagining. The man cared not for his wife or the young child that he had left behind, away in this marvelous new couch he received and off that horrid man went into the night with his shouts of greedy glee and pleasure as his family long forgotten. The mother and child awoken to no greedy man plaguing their lives and while the mother was quite saddened, she still had the child to watch after. As luck and fortune does benefit those with kind hearts, another man the mother sought and a kinder gentler man she got. With as much kindness to her and her child this man gave to combat the sorrows left behind by the other greed filled one. One day a message they did receive, about a much bigger estate of land and riches. The greedy man who had once left them behind without a second thought, was now no more as the spirits warnings he did not heed. As fate had decided he would be no more, a swift and tight end he did get. Leaving everything he valued behind of jewels and gold, to no man but a woman he did not care for. His wife and next of kin did receive, fame and fortune for kindness indeed. With kindness in their hearts the family did grow, and with it came all luck and fortune soon to glow.

For those with kind hearts and bright minds, often find themselves on the favorite end of fate's hands.

The old ghost hummed before turning the page of the book to read the next legend or dark tales of the book. It had plenty and so far this one had been the one with the most happiness in it. It was called The Spirit of Fortune and Fate. An oldie but goodie in his mind, he faintly remembered it from when he was younger, who knew someone would remember it enough after all this time to make a book with it, but I digress. He began to read the next legend-

SQUEAK!!

Something was thrown onto his lap and he looked down blinking to see a small cat plush on his lap, it's black fur and yellow eyes staring up at him and it looked a lot like those Nyakuza cats from the city....he rose a brow at it before moving the book and seeing the two cute children smiling up at him again. He groaned and picked up the toy...It didn't look damaged and he looked back to them with a raised brow or what could be considered an eyebrow on a ghost.

"What did I say about throwing toys at me? And what exactly do you want me to fix? " He turned the toy over in his claws. Seams were tight, no holes or tears, and it wasn't in no way word. It still had it's glow in the dark eyes painted on too. "There's no damage." The curly haired child held up a bow and he looked at it. "And? What's that for?"

"I can't get the bow around her neck to stay on, and it keeps looking wrinkled. Can you fix it please?"

Bow was always the more likely one of the two to use things like 'please' and her slightly higher voice made it cuter. He hated(loved it but would never admit it) it and groaned, taking the small bow from Bow and wrapping the long thin end of his tail around the cat toy's body to hold it still while his hands worked. He wasn't wasting magic energy on this, this time. But one downfall of not having knees he guessed. "You couldn't have done this yourself? I thought your name was Bow, kid?"

"That's the name everyone gave me because no one knew mine. Like how Hattie's....Hattie?"

"...I guess you got me there." His claws worked wonders in getting the small bow to stay and at least looked decent in his opinion. He guessed it must've looked good enough to the girls too because when his tail unwrapped around it, Bow gasped and held her arms out as it dropped into the child's awaiting arms and she giggled as the pretty pink bowed cat blankly stared back at her and he repicked up his book again. "There you go, now go play and let me have my peace-"

"Whatcha reading, BFF?" The ever mischevious Hated child reached her hands up and leaned against the chair to make grabby motions towards the book in his hands to which he pulled away and scowled.

"A grown up book you're not allowed to read."

"Why?," she asked climbing onto his chair and crawling into his lap.

He held it higher in one hand. "Because I said so."

SQUEAK!!

The toy was thrown back into his lap and Bow jumped up and latched a hold of the chair cushion, and was helped pull up the rest of the way by Hattie. "Why?," Bow asked as soon as she was sitting in his lap too regrabbing her toy in her arms, "What's it called?" Both were straining their necks up at the book in his hands and he growled. Not in a threatening way, in a way like an older brother would if their little siblings kept bothering him.

"It's Dark and Scary Legends and Stories by Ivanna Gitta Bat. And it's stories are too scary for you two." Their response was to giggle at him like regular children. He was a giant ghost and they played in a haunted forest of swamps with hands, fire spirits, dwellers, and a man trapped in the moon. Hattie had fought him and won, and had faced off against multiple enemies and other threats. How scary could his stories be?.....In a word. VERY. These stories had tales of old MEAN ghosts and gruesome fates, which was putting it lightly, and not fit for two seven year old kids. They couldn't even sleep without their space unicorn nightlight. So with a snap of his hand the book flew and hid itself in the tall shelf of books as the girls 'awwww'-ed in disappointment. "I mean it. NO!!...And what did I tell you two about throwing things at me?"

"You said not to throw it at your face. We threw Mr. Night-" Bow held up the cat teddy. "-at your lap."

Loopholes. They always used them. He sighed and leaned back into his chair while reaching up to rub his face. "Don't you kids have like a minion to play hide and seek with or toys you left outside to play with? You could at least learn how to tie a simple bow to keep yourselves entertained."

"But you fixed them. Don't you wanna play with us?"

He moved two clawed fingers to peer at the girls between them. "Not right now. You'll never understand being...endless aging kids, but grown ups sometimes want their own alone time. Like how you two like to have separate adventures, besides couldn't you just use those time pieces to rewind the damage or som-"

"NO!!" Both jumped at the sudden and loud tone the kid used and she scowled up at the lightly startled ghost. "I can't use them like that!! That's not how they work at all!"

....He blinked before leaning his head in one hand and frowning, "Then elighten me please. After all I-....I don't think you even told me how they work. Besides them keeping you,...you." He pointed to the fact that she was still permanently stuck as a kid. Not that he was complaining. More company for eternity right?

But she just shrugged. "I dunno exactly. I just know that you can't use them without something bad happening most of the time, that's why they're locked up."

"Wait. I thought you could use them."

She shook her head again. "Only reverse what they do, why do you think I use them to power my ship?" She stood in his lap and gave a salute. "The S.S. KIDDO!!" Then her form paused...and she looked down. "They also cut into the user's past and makes them go crazy with that kind of stuff. Like the evil witch in your story." That got a chuckle out of them....and it also made a lot of sense for the affects. He knew when he found one, he went full on crazy with the desire to keep them all. The power of something like THAT under his claws and more than one was appealing to him- "They kinda work like wishing stars." He snapped out of his rambling and blinked down at the little girl who plopped herself back down in her lap and blinked up at him. "Like how I made a wish on a shooting star last week for a whole plate of cookies and Cooking Cat gave me some for a surprise!! And Mustache wished to make all bad guys disappear and it gave her crazy powers to blast them away like in Timmy's video games." She scowled. "She's still a big meanie."

He huffed and smiled a bit....but paused at what she just said. '....Wished to make all bad guys disappear....' '....Gave her powers to blast them away...' How many times had he wished for a certain person to disappear? To get lost? How many times had he wished to never be able to see her again or even risk her being so close? All the trauma and bad memories and all the hurt Vanessa had ever caused could just...be whisked away. POOF!! Like it never even happened....WHY HADN'T HE EVER THOUGHT OF THIS SOONER!? Well, to be far he did have one or two little distractions that kept him on his toes-...Er. Tail so to speak. He slowly looked back to her with much greater interest now.

"Well that's just the cat....But what exactly do you mean they 'work like shooting stars'? You mean that they grant wishes like genies or something?"

She tilted her head confused and blinked. " I don't know what a genie is, but sorta? They make a alternate timeline that has your wants and collides in into your own timeline to make it happen. Why do you think I had to fix all those time rifts?"

.....He blinked, "So you know about time and alternate timelines but you don't know how to tie a bow?" She shrugged again and he sighed..before pausing...."You said they could make anything happen?"

She shrugged not paying attention now as she leaned back into his cool but soft body and pulled off her hat, reaching inside and pulling out a chocolate chip cookie and sticking it into her mouth. "I gueff so." She mumbled with her moth full. "But I don't mike dem mwilke dat."

"Don't eat with your mouth full," he mumbled have paying attention. His mind was elsewhere, or more specifically on SOMEONE. ...Have you ever wished someone would disappear? Yes. And the answer might be right in front of him-

"Snatcher?"

He hummed and looked down to Bow who tugged on his lowered arm. "Can you tell us a story? Please?"

.....He sighed. "Alright. Ill uh..Tell you the one I just finished reading, but after this I wanna be left alone for a little bit." Both girls snuggled down into his sides and he groaned again. This would be a while. "*AHEM* Down in the world unknown there laid a kingdom drab and dark. Where darkness and shadows collided and lived in fear and power. One would be mad to even think about stepping in a place like this-" Hat Kid raised her hand. ".....Yes?"

"What does 'drab' mean?"

He groaned. Yep. Gonna be a looooong day today.

[yet-another-greek-myth-gay]

Since I am currently very deeply invested in Hogwarts Mystery, I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time developing my version of Jacob’s Sibling in my mind. I’m kind of proud of the character I created, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to put her out there in the character universe of Hogwarts Mystery OCs.

Now, full disclosure, I’m not an artist. I don’t have any beautiful drawings attached to give you an idea of what I’m visualizing (at least, not any I drew). More or less, this is just going to be a bunch of word vomit about the character I’m crafted, and I’ll probably go back and edit it a bunch of times as I think of more details. If it isn’t too much trouble, I’d love to hear people’s opinions of her! Thank you to anyone who reads, and I hope you like her as much as I do!

BE WARNED THAT THIS CHARACTER SHEET CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR HOGWARTS MYSTERY.

FULL NAME: Helena Winifred Bancroft.

NICKNAME: Most people call her Nellie; only her mum calls her Helena. She also occasionally gets Nel, and Jacob used to call her Pip, short for Pipsqueak. Her and Rowan also had unique nicknames for each other, with Nellie calling Rowan “smart girl” and Rowan calling Nellie “sweet girl.”

DATE OF BIRTH: March 11th. She’s a Pisces.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood.

FAMILY: Nellie’s family consists of her mothers, a pureblooded Auror named Juliette and a muggle school teacher named Carolyn, and her half-brother Jacob. (Juliette is mum, Carolyn is mama.) Both her and Jacob’s respective fathers were muggle men that Juliette was involved with in the past, and neither are involved in their lives. The Bancroft bloodline is matrilineal, and while not necessarily famous, prides itself on producing particularly powerful witches.

BACKGROUND: She grew up in a small coastal community, where she was an avid swimmer, frequent visitor of the beach, and overall just a total water baby. Her family was comfortable financially, but chose to live fairly humbly, and Nellie was content with that. While she occasionally played with the local muggle children, most of Nellie’s time was spent either following Jacob around like a little shadow or playing with the fairies that lived in her mama’s garden. (She spent all her time telling them how pretty they were, so they tolerated her.) Unsurprisingly, she was a bit of a loner.

HOUSE: A proud Hufflepuff, just like Jacob.

DREAM: First and foremost, to find Jacob. However, in the long term, she’d really like to own a Hippogriff sanctuary and work as a breeder (with entirely moral methods, don’t worry). They’re by far her favorite creature, and she wants to spend the rest of her life working with them.

DEEPEST SECRET: That she wonders all the time if Jacob is worth saving. Growing up, he was her best friend and her hero, and there was no one she loved more. But watching how he changed in the last year or two prior to his disappearance, and hearing some of the stories at school, she honestly wonders if the loving brother she remembers exists anymore. And if he doesn’t, is the boy he left behind someone she wants to bring back? 

She’s also been hiding a growing resentment toward her mum. While Jacob’s disappearance took a toll on them all, she sometimes feels like her mum’s put so much of her emotional energy into missing Jacob that she doesn’t have enough left to love her anymore, and she secretly hates her mum nudging her to find Jacob, even if it’s at the cost of her own happiness and safety.

...sometimes she wishes it had been Ben.

MOST TREASURED OBJECT: For years, it was her seashell locket, a gift she’d gotten from Jacob for her sixth birthday, with the little sculpture Barnaby made her for their Valentines Day date coming in at a close second. Now, it’s a spare pair of Rowan’s glasses, which Nellie had kept on hand since their first year, given how often Rowan misplaced hers.

WAND: Nellie’s first wand is ten and a half inches long, made of pear wood with a unicorn hair core. Her second, which she purchases in her fifth year, is eleven and a quarter inches, with an alder wood base and a phoenix feather core. Lastly, her third, which she gets after she graduates and keeps for the rest of her life, is ten and two thirds inches long, built from beech wood, and possesses a unicorn hair core.

PATRONUS: An African Bush Elephant.

ANIMAGUS: A Kooikerhondje dog.

BOGGART: Jacob’s corpse, shambling towards her like a zombie, sobbing about how she failed to save him.

BEST MEMORY: Jacob trying to teach her spells when he came home for his first break in his first year of Hogwarts. She would’ve only been five—they’re six years apart—so it’s a faint memory and she couldn’t do any of them anyway, but it was still happy enough to stick with her.

WORST MEMORY: The year Jacob disappeared, their mum mandated that he come home for breaks. (He’d been staying at school the past few years, but with everything that was happening, their mothers wanted to keep an eye on him.) He was on edge the entire time, bitter and aloof, and when Nellie tentatively tried to get him to play, he exploded at her about wasting his time. In that moment, his face twisted and red with rage, his tall, lanky body looming over her, Nellie didn’t recognize her brother at all, and that scared her more than anything. For the longest time, that was her worst memory.

Now, her worst memory is being in that forest grove, staring down at Rowan’s unmoving body, her gaping mouth and empty eyes. Even decades later, Nellie has dreams about it. Certainly, no memory will ever be worse than that one.

QUIDDITCH: After being trained by Skye, Nellie played as a Chaser for two seasons and a Beater for one, before retiring to a reserve chaser. There just wasn’t enough time, and she didn’t really have the competitive spirit for it. However, she remained friends with Skye, Orion, McNully, and Erika, and still enjoyed training with them to keep her skills sharp.

GREATEST STRENGTHS: Nellie is an overwhelmingly compassionate person. Her mama likes to joke that Nellie could spend all day waiting for a scoop of her favorite ice cream, and she’d still offer it to the first gloomy person she saw on the street. (Basically, if there’s a little pink heart next to a choice, that’s the one she’s making. Empathy is definitely her highest stat.) She never fails to go out of her way to help people, even if it’s to her own detriment. She just has a very warm energy, which makes it easy for people to feel safe confiding in and depending on her.

GREATEST WEAKNESS: Unfortunately, Nellie’s compassion is a bit of a double edged sword, and she can be guilty of stretching herself too far trying to please everyone and, subsequently, letting herself fall to the wayside. She’s also embarrassingly naive (a negative consequence to her desperate belief in the inherent goodness of people), and has a tendency to get a little too emotionally invested in things. She also stakes a lot of her personal value in her ability to keep others happy—if she isn’t capable of keeping those she loves safe and content, she feels she has no value at all.

APPEARANCE: In short, Nellie is about as far from intimidating as any one person can get. She never surpasses five feet tall, nor does she develop past her scrawny adolescent physique. Her face is round, with a little button nose and big ocean blue eyes. She’s covered from head to toe in freckles, and has a slight case of buck teeth with a tiny tooth gap, though nothing she considered worth getting braces over. She also has a scar on her thumb from the time her mum tried to teach her how to whittle. It didn’t go well.

However, her most defining physical characteristic is her hair. Curly and sandy blonde, she grew it long for the first fifteen years of her life, only cutting off the occasional inch to keep it healthy. It was very carefully maintained, because although Nellie doesn’t consider herself a vain girl, she loved her hair, which grew to reach her thighs at its longest. It was the only feature of hers she considered genuinely and objectively beautiful, and she prided herself on it. In the summer after her fifth year of Hogwarts, she chopped all that treasured hair off into a bob, her only reasoning being that it was more practical. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Rakepick had grabbed her by her exceptionally long braid when she’d tried to run to Merula’s aid in the Buried Vault. 

STYLE: Nellie dresses exactly how you’d expect a stereotypical Hufflepuff to dress. She favors bright, pleasant colors, likes embroidery and floral print, and values comfort over anything. Her current favorite outfits both involve overalls, with one consisting of denim overalls with embroidered butterflies on the chest pocket and a white t-shirt, and the other being a pair of faded overalls that she personally painted with flowers, despite being an absolutely terrible artist, and a yellow turtleneck. She pretty much always wears a pair of light weight, embroidered boots, and is never seen without her seashell locket.

VOICE: I picture her sounding similar to AnnaPantsu. There’s a reason she was able to make the choir, after all! (Even if she ultimately surrendered her spot to Merula.)

BEST SUBJECT: Unsurprisingly, Care for Magical Creatures. Her kind nature and respect for all magical beings makes her a bit of a natural. She’s also proven herself to have a knack for Divination. She’s no Seer, but she’s pretty good at deciphering omens and swears that she does sometimes see visions in crystal balls. She’s also decent at Transfiguration.

WORST SUBJECT: Anyone would suck at Potions if Snape spent the entire class glowering at them the way he does at Nellie! It’s awfully hard to focus when your professor is breathing down your neck, staring dismissively into your cauldron like you’ve already made a mistake. She also just has a really poor memory, so any class that requires her to follow a sequence of meticulous steps is going to be one she struggles with. She also has difficulty in History of Magic for a similar reason—all of those dates and names just go in one ear and out the other.

BEST FRIEND(s): Rowan. Nellie loves every member of her eclectic group of friends dearly, but Rowan was her first friend, and will always, always be her dearest. For whatever reason, they just clicked perfectly, and completely got each other. Her death changed Nellie irreversibly. For at least a year after Rowan’s death, Nellie wore the spare pair of glasses she’d kept for her everywhere. Even once she stopped, they were almost always in her bag. Nellie was eventually able to manage again, but she never really moved on.

The runner up was undoubtedly Bill. He completely adopted her as (yet another) younger sibling, and they never quite lose that closeness, even when Jacob comes back into the picture. After all, Jacob can’t replicate the experiences Nellie had with Bill. While he was doing his part to protect Nellie as best he could, and that’s admirable, it wasn’t him that was by Nellie’s side throughout every trial she faced at Hogwarts. It was Bill, and Jacob would never be able to imitate the connection that gave Bill and Nellie.

In the wake of Rowan’s death, Nellie also develops a surprisingly close friendship with Erika Rath. They’d already been developing a friendship, but Rowan’s passing was the catalyst for them growing closer. During one of her training sessions with Erika (which Erika had told her she could sit out of, given the circumstances, but Nellie insisted), Rowan’s glasses fell off, and cracked. The damage was minor and entirely fixable, but Nellie had a complete breakdown, allowing herself to cry for the first time since Rowan had died. And Erika sat there with her, holding her tight, the entire time. While the rest of her friends were tiptoeing around her, not sure what she needed and scared of saying the wrong thing, uncomfortable in the face of such overwhelming grief, Erika took everything Nellie threw at her in stride. The fits where all Nellie could do was scream and cry, the anger that had her beating her fists against the ground and snarling threats brutal enough to make her sick, the guilt that left a hollow pit in her stomach and made her wish it had been her instead. Every ugly thought, every wave of emotion, Erika stuck with Nellie through them all, keeping her grounded her during a time where she felt she could completely drift away. It’s impossible to describe the sort of bond that gives people.

WORST ENEMY: For a while, it was Emily Tyler. With Merula, at least she has qualities that Nellie can respect—her ambition, her bravery, her fierce determination—and they’ve had a few moments where it feels like some genuine bonding has occurred. She may not approve of a lot of Merula’s behavior, but at least she can sort of understand her. But Emily Tyler is just so superficial and mean spirited, and Nellie simply can’t stand her. Now, though, it’s easily Patricia Rakepick.

LOVE INTEREST: Barnaby Lee, though not at first. Nellie housed an absolutely fierce crush on Skye Parkin for a while, but it quickly became apparent that Skye didn’t return her feelings. To Skye, Nellie was like the sister she never had, and Nellie didn’t want to jeopardize that. There was also some sort of tension going on between her and Merula in their fifth year, but nothing ever came of it. After the events that transpired in the Vault, Merula decided Nellie wasn’t worth the trouble. It’s one of her biggest regrets. 

Barnaby was actually crushing on Nellie long before she had any romantic feelings for him—ever since that first duel, actually, when she completely whooped his ass while apologizing after every blow. (A scene I actually explored here.) It took a little while, but Nellie eventually fell for Barnaby’s good heart and noble nature. He may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but he never fails to make her feel cared for. He can make her laugh when nobody else can, and although she’d loathe herself if he got hurt for her sake, it honestly feels a little nice to have someone trying to protect and take care of her for once, instead of the other way around. They also both love magical creatures, so a lot of their “dates” just consist of them hanging around the Care for Magical Creatures paddock and feeding whatever they find. Random little fun fact, Nellie’s pet name for Barnaby is just to say “Barnaby dear” as though it’s one word, and it never fails to make Barnaby feel super giddy.

PETS: Whoo boy, Nellie’s pets. First and foremost, there’s Astrid, her Lesser Sooty Owl. A remarkably intelligent bird, Astrid is usually found occupying the rafters above Nellie’s head, watching over her like a worrisome mother. She usually sleeps in Nellie’s dorm, rather than the owlery, and has a habit of picking at knots in Nellie’s hair (and, surprisingly, Rowan’s as well) with her beak as though she’s trying to straighten them out. 

While she adores Nellie, Astrid is notably less fond of Klepto, her mischievous Niffler. If Astrid is like Nellie’s mother, Klepto is like an obnoxious toddler, always causing trouble and fussing for her attention. He’s remarkably clingy, enough so that Nellie’s taken to hiding him in the dorm rather than keeping him in the grasslands. (She can’t help it! He throws a fit if he can’t sleep pressed against the soles of her feet!) 

Then there’s Flora, a particularly slothful fairy who has taken to riding in the pockets of Nellie’s robes, content to spend the rest of her life being carried around and lavished with compliments and sweets. Her and Astrid have a sort of tenuous truce, since they both have a bit of a fierce streak when it comes to defending Nellie. 

There’s also a Hippogriff and a Common Welsh Green on the grounds, both of which Nellie is determined to befriend, but that’s still a bit of a work in progress at the moment.

FUN FACTS:

• Nellie ends up going grey—or white, rather—fairly early. Her hair’s almost entirely white by the time she turns thirty. She’s insecure about it for a while, then decides to just embrace it. It looks elegant, and Merlin help the person who tries to tell her otherwise.

• Given how incredibly physically affectionate Nellie is and how much she adored Rowan, it’s no surprise that she almost always kissed Rowan on the top of the head when saying goodbye. Just like she did in the forest grove, chest tight with anguish but eyes painfully dry.

• Barnaby and Nellie are married by the time they’re twenty. Maybe it’s a result of almost dying young on multiple occasions, but Nellie wasn’t keen on waiting. She didn’t want to take the risk of never getting the opportunity.

• Nellie has always wanted a big family. After how fractured hers became when Jacob disappeared, that desperate desire only increased. Fortunately, Barnaby, with his tiny, miserable family, wanted to create a large, happy one just as badly.

• On that note, they end up having five daughters: Ivy (Ravenclaw), Jade (Ravenclaw), Miri (Hufflepuff), Aurora (Slytherin), and Rowan (Hufflepuff). Many were surprised Nellie waited until her last child to name one after Rowan, but the truth was, she just wasn’t ready. She’d always known she wanted to, but it always felt too soon.

• As a frequent visitor to the Burrow, Nellie grew close with all the Weasleys. She actually babysat Ron and Ginny a far bit after she graduated Hogwarts.

• Bill and Jacob never get along. Though Bill can logically understand that Jacob was trying to protect Nellie, he can never really forgive Jacob for the distress he put Nellie through. And while Jacob understands that Nellie needed support and he wasn’t there to provide it, some part of him resents that Bill stepped into his role as Nellie’s brother.

• Although they were once close as sisters, Nellie and Skye’s friendship definitely changed for the worse in their sixth year. The drama surrounding Nellie getting trained and befriended by Erika all occurred in the month leading up to Rowan’s demise. Having Skye—someone Nellie considered a close friend—be so caught up in her own grudges and jealousy that she called off their friendship in a fit of anger not even a week after Rowan had died, while Erika—a friend she had only just started to make—acted as her rock throughout the whole grieving process, really changed Nellie’s perspective on Skye. To be fair, Skye did eventually apologize, and they picked up the pieces as best they could, but things were never the same.

• While Nellie focused more on the changes her friends went through after the events in the Buried Vault, there’s no denying that she changed as well. She hardly slept her entire sixth year. She cut off all her hair, and she jumped with every loud noise. Her naivety, one of her defining traits, withered, and left only wariness behind. She went from trusting everyone, to trusting no one. Then Rowan’s death came, and she crumbled completely. For a long time after it, she couldn’t function at all.

Thank you to @treebels​, for the lovely artwork.

[kanene-yaaay]

Cloudy Day

Author’s Notes: Heeeyioooo, my lollipops! Okay, this is a gift for my Awesome Birthday Week Buddy: @august-anon!! (I still don’t beliving our birthdays are in the same week! XP) Yaaaay! Sparkles!! I’m know it was last week and I’m sorrey for being late dfghjhgfsdf. I hope you like it, dear (And all of you too, lollipops!).

Okay! Now let’s begin!! Yesh! I’m sorrey for any spelling mistakes, I just put this on Google Translator and corrected some setences X’”). Dfghjhghjuhgf. Sorreey! See ya! ~

Warnings: This is a Tickle Fanfic, if you don’t like, please, look for another storie in this site, there’s a plenty of wonderful arts here! Hmmm... Ah! There is Lee!Virgil and Ler!Logan. Something around 3.000 words. -w-)s2.

                                                    [~*~]

It was a cloudy day, and cloudy days were signs of foreboding.

Blackbeard died during a storm, many said. (Perhaps more for the bloody battle he fought during the natural phenomenon than for itself, but that was kind of a understanding that few really understood.) The Kraken awakens during the worst thunderstorms and windstorms that shakes him from his sleep as shake the deepest of the seas, a thousand and one poems recited. The ocean floor is filling with ships and the shattered treasures of those who couldn't escape the rains and their tides, they warned. Some older, more experienced pirates, also meaner, could not be left out, commenting between smiles and a few doses of rum: Beginner's ordeal.

But Virgil denied, not because he was novice or so experienced that he no longer saw it as a challenge, just thought it was unfair to ignore all the good things that cloudy days can bring. Often the clouds, the cold wind, and the faint appearances of the sun's warm rays were more signs of a change than a storm.

So he liked to enjoy them.

Preferably lying in the small, but comfortable, Mast cabin. The perfect resting place: high enough to close your eyes and get lost in the scent of saltwater brought by the cold wind; a place where nothing, not even a problem, could reach you, where you found yourself almost touching the sky at the same time it was low enough to hear each one of the crew on their tasks as a little reminder that there is always somewhere (and someone) to go back to.

He took a deep breath, taking advantage of the wave of inspiration to get back to his story. It was not one of his largest, only a little over than five pages, made just to quench the sudden, insistent, uncontrollable tickle desire that had practically woken up with him that day. He barely contained the uncontrollable smile that opened up on his face and the way he squirmed slightly as he described the protagonist (who was caught by his friends in the middle of his mission to steal the fridge and now 'suffered' the consequences) being attacked without mercy in all its ticklish spots: the sides, sensitive to the slightest squeeze and nudge, the belly full of laughter, the neck colored by the blush and all the scribbles, absolutely impossible to ignore, along with...

Virgil found himself letting out a series of giggles, blushing at no one in particular. He filled a few more lines until he began to imagine the pairs of hands coming out of the paper, their fingers wriggling playfully, making him realize his onwed fate when they tickled him.

- AAAAAAAH !! - Initially it was just one scream, quickly being doubled with the help of the on with purple bandana, who practically hurled his entire storie through the boat with the jump in the fright obtained. He quickly recompose himself, turning toward the kitchen, where a Roman (“How could he stand to be shirtless at this weather?”) gestured wildly. - It's cold! It's cold! COLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLD !! PAAAAAAAATTON! IT'S TOO COLD TO WASH THE DISH!

It was almost audible the stubborn expression in the other's tone. The one on the Mast tried to control his unrhythmic breathing, leaning against the half wall of the cubicle. 

Roman...

- Be cool, kiddo! You can do it, ‘cause you're hot!

Virgil didn't listen to the rest of the conversation, trying to slow the excitement of the euphoric butterflies fluttering in his stomach and the intense heat wich spreaded all over his face. His heart skipped a beat.

 He needed a glass of water. Maybe two.

He clipped the story sheets together and slipped down the loose strings of the sails, stopping on deck and heading toward the kitchen quickly.

- V! I heard you scream! Are you hurt? - The quartet's father figure did not wait for a response as he grasped his shoulders, his eyes at the same time scanning every square inch of his being for the slightest damage.

- N-no, I ... - And if those hands would go a little higher and scratch your neck ... VIRGIL! Focus! - I just freaked out about Roman's morning drama.

He looked away, a little ironic smile in the face. Well done, Virgil, he congratulated himself, acid teasing is always a good way and a safe ground.

By that movement he did not notice Patton's gaze, which frowned for a few silent seconds, suddenly seeming to notice something different in the other. A small detail that he couldn't really distinguish, just knowing it was there. His expression softened, sending to him a loving look.

“When will you tell, my kiddo?”

They both shook their heads slightly, trying to frighten, or perhaps shuffle and confuse, their thoughts. The eyes met shortly after. The pirate with glasses (it seemed like the beginning of a chronicle) laughed.

- Don't be mean to him. - Warned before hugging him. - We'll dock tonight, what do you think we leave tomorrow morning to get supplies and new spices? - The animation in his voice was practically palpable. The hug tightened a little more. If those hands changed to his ribs...

- Of course, Patton. - Virgil was the first to break the touch, a simple smile being the perfect mask for the huge search in his mind of every possible curse which he could use to curse his Lee Mood. - That would be great.

- Oh. And be careful with weather for not get a flu, you're already red.

 Correction: Scarlet. Patton gave one of his angelic smiles and left.

Okay, he decided, feeling his ears got hot, maybe three glasses of water. Cold water. Very cold.

He finished serving himself and returned to the deck, his mind already returning to a few increments in the plot of the story. He just had to go through Logan, which would not be difficult since he was concentrating on reading his papers, finding the pencil he had dropped on the floor with the earlier fright, returning to the Mast-

Hang on.

Logan. Reading some papers.

His body froze.

“Maybe it's not mine. - He tried to convince himself, the very thought sounding insecure. - Maybe it's ... it's from Roman! He loves to do things and show and ... and ... ”

His own body propelled him forward involuntarily. Wobbling, heavy, steps more noisy than he wanted, but to be honest, his desires were focused on something else right now.

Logan looked up, half flushed, half smiling. An expression that totally faded as met with the one wearing the purple bandana, replaced by one of guilt, like a child caught in the midst of his prank. Virgil stared at the papers, recognized the capital letters for laughter, the ideas written in the margins, the light wrinkled in the paper’s conner, his handwriting ...

His hands sweated cold.

- Virgil, it was not my intention ...

Virgil always had two strategies for every difficult situation he faced in life: Flight or Fight. So his muscles tensed, his hand closed with a strong grip, he flexed his legs.

And then dashed off to his room.

[~*~]

He first thought of tossing himself out of the window, then thought of tossing Logan out of the window, then thought of tossing the story out the window, and finally thought of tossing the window out the window, but none of these options seemed like could solve his problem.

He had already wondered what he was going to do when they found out, of course. Everyone who kept a secret had already taken some part of their lives to figure out what to would do when their secret stopped to be, well ... secret

But right now all the plans, the lines, the movements ... everything (everything!) was gone from his mind. It was blank, like a cloud crumbling with its hands up in the act of surrender. Virgil sat on the bed and buried his face in his hands, feeling how sweaty and trembling they were.

Logan. Where would he be now? What would you be doing? Was he telling everyone? Was he showing his stories? All? Had he found others on the Mast? Had he thrown them into the sea? Was he thinking of throwing he into the sea? No, wait, this is too extreme, it wouldn't happen. But he might find it weird, oh gosh, he could think that Virgil was a freak, that was easier than the ‘tossing in the ocean’ thing, but not better. He would look at him strange and-

The one in purple took his pillow and hid his face in it, hugging the object with all the strength he could muster. Stayed like that for a while.

When he finally stopped, he was panting, his heart pounding, however now he had something to focus beyond his own thoughts. He looked up and stared at himself in the small mirror on his desk. He was a mess. He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath.

One, two, three, four...five... six... seven...

Eight.

Expires.

Inspires.

One, two, three, four...five... six... seven...

Eight.

Expires.

He faced himself once more in the mirror.

- You are not a freak. - His voice was low and he stared at himself determinedly. - You're not a stranger and even less your likes. If it makes you, no, if makes me happy, then everything is fine. Everything is okay, ok?

A knock sounded on the door.

- Virgil? It's Logan. - Short break. - I'm coming in.

There was no time to hide under the bed so, yes, when the one who wear glasses opened the door Virgil was still there. Kind of weird pose and staring at the wall, but technically, he was there.

Logan hesitated a little, maybe he should have waited longer? Have waited for him to calm down or come talk about this with him or...? He shook his head. No. He was there now and the subject seemed to be of a great importance to Virgil, so they would talk about it.

He sat on the bed, still not receiving a look from the other, until a small sheaf of papers was handed to him, a little over than five pages long, with ideas written in the margins. The purple lover caught, staring at it because it was a little easier than facing the most rational of the group.

- First I would like to apologize. - Logan began, sounding like he'd trained his lines. - You hurried out of the Mast and these papers ended up falling, and I got them in the intention to return to you, however I was led by curiosity and ended up reading. I shouldn't have messed with your things, and ... it seems that this particular thing matters a lot to you. - 'Hot' was a euphemism, Virgil felt his face in embers. - But I would like to add that your writing is really very engaging! - The one who was listening widened his eyes. Ok. He definitely didn't expect that. His attention was captured enough to raise his gaze, something that excited the wearer of glasses. - You have a great grammar mastery along with a wide vocabulary and you know how to use it to your advantage, managing to turn a daily plot into a light and fun reading.

Virgil couldn't hide the little corner smile. Logan was not someone who gave unsubstantiated praise or just for speaking, when he said it, it was sincerely. Their eyes met and before they knew it ended up questioning:

- Did you like it?

- Indeed. It was a very nice read. You should not hide it or be afraid of what others will find. Of course, there is always the possibility that someone doesn't like it, but I assure you that would be exceptions.

Wait...

- Do you think I ran away because of this?

Now Logan seemed a little groundless, as if he had broken his train of thought. He blinked a few times. Was there ... Was there a point he didn't understand? Something that he didn't realize?? His answer came out with a slight tone of doubt.

- Yes.

Oh. Ooh.

Virgil didn't know where it came from, but he suddenly felt angry that Logan didn't realize the ‘thing’ yet, and before he could even think about that, his mouth dumped it all at once:

- No. That was not it! It was for the content, for the plot: tickling! - The word tasted different when it came out loud, not whispered in the silents night. - The whole story revolves around this: tickling. Because I like it and I like write about it. It's catchy! The laughter of the people, the feeling of security, the contact, the trust, the smiles ... It's ... it's ...

- Lovely? - It was a complement more than a suggestion, a smile spreading across Logan’s face without asking permission.

Virgil felt wich even his neck was dyed red, but he could not help but return the gesture. It was... well, a good relief to tell this to someone, especially Logan, someone who he had often trusted his life along the trip and the battles. His gaze walked over Logan's face for a moment, searching for any trace of bad feelings.

Did not find.

- Yes.

Silence.

- Don't you think it's weird?

- Not really. I can fully understand why you enjoy it so much. It's your liking, if it doesn't hurt anyone, there's no point in not enjoying it.

Silence. Virgil felt a strange urge to laugh. Maybe it was the relief.

- It’s, indeed, - Logan completed. - lovely.

- Don’t say it. - Virgil grunted, still smiling, hiding his face in his hands. A poke at his side almost made him fell off the bed, a squeal escaping his lips as he pushed away. The one who wore purple stared at the other, anticipation almost lighting the room as bright his gaze.

- Virgil. - The tone made a shiver run down his spine and a slightly more uncontrollable smile spread across his face. It only served to increase the certainty in Logan's voice. - I'll tickle you. Get ready.

And then he ‘attacked’.

Virgil was definitely not prepared. Not when his fingers met his ribs, kneading them into circular patterns that immediately spilled a waterfall of giggles and squeals through his mouth, the sensations making him feel about to jump from his skin. His hands broke to grasp Logan's, gripping his wrists but making no effort to move them.

- Nohohohohohoho! Wa-wahahahahahahahait! - His nose was wrinkled and his eyes closed tightly, as if he might lessen the sensation for not seeing them. Virgil fell back on the mattress and Logan took advantage of the moment of distraction to get straight to the new unprotected spot: the belly, wasting no time in scribbling its full length, eventually increasing the squirming and streams of laughter from the first.

- Did you know that tickling sensations are a way twich the human body warns the brain that some area with important organs is being attacked? - The bespectacled’s voice was calm and methodical as it began to loosen fast grips, one hand concentrating on the sides of the other, as if it were not turning one of the quietest of the group into a pool of squeaky giggles, and the other hand quietly moving toward his belly button, bringing out more hysterical laughter and causing him to shrink more and more into himself, stucking the fingers rather than actually protecting himself. - Laughter and involuntary muscle impulses, more known as squirming, are the brain's way of defending itself, the because still a mystery. However, one thing we know… - Logan changed his method, starting to make circular movements around Virgil’s belly (giggle) button, dragging his fingers with unbearably light tickles, getting closer and closer to the center.

- Lohohohohohohohohohohoho, stohohohohp! I´ll- I´ll ehehehehehehehehehend withihihihihihihihihihihi - The one with the glasses went down a few millimeters, attacking the waist a little more vigorously, seeking Virgil to unfold and achieving the desired result successfully. - NahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAhahaha !!

- ...is that, depending on the touch and the place, sounds other than laughter can be observed, such as...

The tickling stopped, Virgil still laughing helplessly on the bed, squirming with the tiniest gust of wind.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

It was a trap, he was sure of it, yet he dared to open his eyes, catching a glimpse of Logan's slightly mischievous grin before focusing on the finger that twitched a few inches away from his umbiculous.

- Logan! Loghahahahahahan.- Laughter simply floated without permission from his lips, much higher than usual, the writer could feel his belly quivering with anticipation. Attempting to bite his lower lip to cover the smile and perhaps stop the laughter.Logan moved the only (damn) finger closer. Virgil squeaked and failed on every attempt. - Ple-pleasehehehehehehehehehe, I-Ihihihihihihihihihihi-

The finger struck quickly against his navel, scratching, scribbling and poking without the slightest mercy and completely taking away his chance to finish the sentence.

Virgil snorted. Literally snorted.

His eyes widened and his hands made way to cover his mouth, but their attention was captured by the unbearable tickling, letting them sway from side to side, trying to stop the tickling but to no avail.

- LohohOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOGAH !!! NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHhahahahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !!! - The laughter came out shaking his whole body. Loud, carefree, frantic laughter. He flinched quickly, his head swaying from side to side as if to deny his fate, even though the huge, bright smile that seemed to light up the entire room, coupled with that warm, pleasant feeling in his chest, said the complete opposite. The remaining hand attacked his sides and ribs without any pattern or order, causing Virgil to practically jump with each touch, the laughter shifting from the high to the low tones.

- But, dear Virgil, I still have other sounds to show you! - His fingers drifted to his neck, pausing for a few sips of air, a pause filled with giggles. The ringing changed to the chin, pulling out a quick yelp. - Snorts, squeals, giggle, laugh, yelps…

The tickling lasted a few more minutes, until his laughter became breathless, so Logan ceased the attack. Virgil immediately rubbed his palms over his neck, trying to remove all the remaining sensations and to make sure that his face had not melted with all the blush nor broken with the size his smile was, I mean, is.

- Are you alright?

The one who wore purple opened one watery, twinkling eye, staring at him, his mouth pronouncing before he could think of the real weight of his words:

- J-just those sounds? I thought as an explorer you hated to be content with few results.

A different look passed and settled on the other's face, then expanding and taking over the Logan's, once kindly, expression. It caused a sudden electricity sensation in the air, his whole body crawling and laughter beginning to fill his throat with euphoria.

- I understand.

In the blink of an eye Logan's hands found his armpits. Virgil felt his breath and the world stop for a long second… and then his fingers twitched.

Virgil literally screamed.

- NononoNOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! LO-LOHOHOHOHOHO- I´M SORRAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAY. - His head was thrown back with the force of laughter, his body squirming for an escape route, even though no matter how much he moved, the sensations followed. His mind was blank, unable to really focus on anything but the poking, scratching, tickling that made eveen his nerves laugh and made him unable to form any words, coherent or not. His heels sank into the mattress, lifting his torso for a moment, until the tickles floated lightly at the base of his back, causing his body to fall back onto the bed. - NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAI-

It took a few minutes before the tears began to wash down his cheeks and the laughter became silent. Logan immediately stopped at this point.

- As you can see we also have as examples the scream and the belly laughte. r- The smile was noticeable in his tone. - I think these are enough examples.

- Yehehehes. You got ihihihihit.

- Did I go too far?

Virgil shook his head, wiping tears, the remaining laughter finally stopping. He heard the door slam shut and when he opened his eyes Logan was no longer there. Tried to replay his memories in order to have done something wrong or what else might have bothered the other as his breathing returned to normal frequency.

When he managed to sit on the bed, preparing to leave, Logan returned with a glass of water in his hand, handing it over to the other, who had not realized how thirsty he was until that moment. He took the glass and drank its contents in a few sips, the room surprised with the sudden silence.

For some people cloudy days, days that could mean a storm or a sunny day, were signs of foreboding, but Virgil didn't see them that way. Sometimes a cloudy day is just exactly what it is: a day for changes.

- Thank you. - They both knew what the thanks really meant.

And, perhaps, for others, those who did not live sailing and exploring the seven seas, cloudy days could mean something else. Perhaps it could be known as a day to enjoy a good hot drink, a comfortable and safe place, good company, or the warmth which human being can provide. The confidence this can bring.

- You could had kept your secret when I - Logan waved his hand, as if to ward off a fly or a slightly annoying memory - didn't realize it at first.

Virgil shrugged and looked away, tapping the empty space beside him on the mattress, an invitation that was not declined by the other. He grabbed a book under his bed, the one with pages that talked about the secrets after the End of the World and the stars, and offered it to the most racional of the crew.

- It's cloudy outside, we can catch the flu if we get in the evening wind. Want to read?

And so it was. Days of change, days of strengthening ties, days of sharing memories ...

- It's a good option. Thank you.

It was a cloudy day, pleasantly cloudy.

[aion-rsa]

Best Martial Arts Movies on Amazon Prime Right Now

https://ift.tt/3iGgPxj

Search ‘Martial Arts Movies’ on Amazon Prime and you’ll get over a thousand results ranging from the classics to the campy, to the critically acclaimed. It’s an overwhelming library for the uninitiated and the mother lode for stalwart fans of the genre. There are so many gems buried in Amazon Prime that digging out the favorites is dirty challenging work but extremely rewarding.

When it comes to martial arts, Amazon Prime has a killer Kung Fu collection. The ‘80s were the ‘Golden Era’ of Kung Fu films when Hong Kong film studios cranked out films faster than any grindhouse ever. Many Hong Kong filmmakers put out up to half a dozen films a year, and most have hundreds of credits on IMDb. This glut of Kung Fu films spread to every Chinatown ghetto theater on the planet. And like with horror, American networks broadcasted late night Kung Fu Theater shows because there was so much cheap content available.

Consequently, Amazon Prime’s Kung Fu film selection leans heavily that way, but we’d be remiss if we didn’t include some non-Chinese favorites too. Martial Arts movies cross over to all other genres and nations. There are comedies, romances, horror, fantasy, sci-fi, and art house films. From countless cheesy low-budget exploitations, many so funky that they’re totally awesome, to the brilliant ground-breaking works that are staggeringly sensational, here’s some classic jewels and hidden treasures currently included with Amazon Prime membership.

Fist of Fury (1972)

Despite his fame, Bruce Lee only lived to see three of his martial arts movies premiere because Enter the Dragon and Game of Death were released posthumously. His impersonators are innumerable, so many that Bruceploitation is its own genre.

But Fist of Fury is the real Bruce in all his nunchuck spinning glory. It’s loosely based on the history of the Chin Woo Athletic Association, which remains one of the largest international martial arts organizations to this day. When Bruce shattered the ‘No Dogs and Chinese Allowed’ sign with a soaring flying kick, it became a battle cry for the racially oppressed worldwide, firmly cementing Bruce as the world’s first Asian global superstar.

Come Drink with Me (1966)

Long before Charlize Theron went Atomic Blonde, Cheng Pei Pei blazed a path as Golden Swallow, the mysterious invincible swordswoman, and all female action heroines are in her wake. Fiercely independent and savagely lethal, Cheng delivers several sophisticated long-take fight scenes, the hallmark of real Kung Fu skill, with the poise and precision built upon her foundation in ballet. Cheng is remembered in Hollywood as Jade Fox from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon and played the matchmaker in Disney’s live-action Mulan. Note that Amazon Prime also has the sequel, Golden Swallow, but it’s not nearly as good.

Once Upon a Time in China (1991)

This tour de force from director Tsui Hark and Jet Li launched a six-film franchise and a TV series. Jet plays Wong Fei-hung, a real-life folk hero and Kung Fu master who has been depicted in well over a hundred films and TV shows. Set during the late 19th century, the film examines themes of Western colonization and Chinese cults, and while blatantly nationalistic, it captures Jet in his martial prime and contains some of his finest fights.

Read more

Movies

Wira Review: Meet the Next Martial Arts Movie Star

By Gene Ching

Games

The Forgotten Bruce Lee Video Game From the ’80s

By Craig Lines

Amazon Prime also has Once Upon a Time in China II, which is an excellent sequel, however the third installment (not on Amazon Prime) falls apart, allegedly due to disputes between Jet and Hark.

Ashes of Time Redux (2008)

This was internationally acclaimed director Wong Kar-wai’s first stab at the martial arts genre. It’s sumptuously artsy and laboriously dystopic, not one to see for the action but the art. Based on a classic wuxia (wuxia is Chinese for martial arts genre books and film) titled The Eagle Shooting Heroes, Wong simultaneously filmed a parody titled after the book with the same cast. Wong did the Redux after the original print was lost, salvaging what was left, reediting and re-scoring it. 

(Prime US only)

The Assassin (2015)

Director Hou Hsiao-hsien won Best Director at Cannes for this magnificent epic, which was also submitted as Taiwan’s Foreign Language entry at the Academy Awards. Starring the ever-glamorous Shu Qi, who made an early Hollywood crossover attempt with The Transporter, The Assassin is based on another wuxia tale that’s parallel to The Manchurian Candidate but instead of Korean brainwashing, it’s 9th century Chinese sorcery.

Read more

Movies

Best Horror Movies on Amazon Prime Right Now

By Alec Bojalad and 2 others

Movies

Ninjas All The Way Down: The Mysterious World of Godfrey Ho

By Craig Lines

The exquisite filmmaking makes this spectacular–panoramic landscapes, lavish costumes, intricately detailed sets, all gorgeous. Every shot is a stunning composition of light and shadow, and the camera lingers on each frame with ponderous and quiet respect, the kind that film students will gush over for years.

(Prime Video in the US, rent only in the UK)

Fearless Hyena (1979)

When people cite Rush Hour to reference Jackie Chan, it just goes to show they don’t know Jackie at all. Long before Jackie crossed over to Hollywood, he made dozens of films that truly captured his astounding Kung Fu skills, unrestricted by U.S. insurance liability. His late ‘70s period was particularly ripe because he was in peak physical shape and first creating his unique acrobatic comedies. Remember that chopstick dumpling training scene between Po and Shifu in Kung Fu Panda? In Fearless Hyena, Jackie and his shifu (James Tien) do it in live-action, no wires, no CGI, and the choreography is absolutely mind-blowing.

Wheels on Meals (1984)

Jackie Chan earned his Kung Fu prowess from being trained from childhood in traditional Chinese Opera. Many of his classmates also became stars in martial arts film. This is one of two collaborations between him and his two martial brothers, Sammo Hung and Yuen Biao (the other is Dragons Forever).

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Movies

Jackie Chan’s Project A Movies Are Spectacular

By Craig Lines

Movies

Jackie Chan’s Hard Road to Hollywood

By Craig Lines

A modern comedy shot in Barcelona, the chemistry between Jackie, Sammo and Yuen is magical as they bring the fastest three-person sparring scenes ever captured. On top of that, Jackie faces off against real-life kickboxing champion Benny ‘The Jet’ Urquidez in what is considered by many as the greatest fight scene ever filmed. 

(US only)

Knockabout (1979)

Knockabout is Yuen Biao’s first lead role after dozens of supporting roles. His acrobatic skills are unparalleled, stronger than Jackie’s because his body frame is built like a gymnast. Sammo Hung’s girth has typecast him as villains and buffoons. Nevertheless, he’s a leading director and choreographer and serves as both in this film, on top of playing a comic beggar who trains Yuen in jump rope monkey Kung Fu (that’s right–jump rop –you have to see it to understand).

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Movies

10 of the Weirdest Kung Fu Movies Ever

By Craig Lines

TV

Cobra Kai and the Legacy of The Karate Kid

By Gene Ching

It’s a slow build past some goofy comic hijinks, because Yuen’s skills improve over the course of the film. In a fight against Hoi Sang Lee, Yuen pummels so many goose-egg bruises into his noggin that he looks like the coronavirus. But once the training begins through to the final fight, Yuen and Sammo show why they are legends in the industry. 

(US only)

Dirty Ho (1979)

When this film came out, the title wasn’t as funny as it is now. But it still works in a way because this is one of the best Kung Fu slapstick comedies. Starring some of top talent from Shaw Brother studios, including Gordon Liu, Wang Yue, and Lo Lieh, it’s full of the stylish long-take choreography and blazing stunts using real fire long before CGI.

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Movies

King Boxer: The Enduring Legacy of a Martial Arts Classic

By Craig Lines

Movies

The Man From Hong Kong: A Genuinely Dangerous Action Movie

By Craig Lines

It’s a classic tale of hidden master, a punk student, and notorious villains, including hilarious absurdities like sex change tea, and wheelchair and crutch fighting. The discreet Kung Fu challenge while sampling rare wines out of crazy cups is ludicrous fun; the sort that only master fight choreographer Lau Kar-leung can deliver.

The Eight Diagram Pole Fighter (1984)

Here is another classic from Gordon Liu and Lau Kar-leung, but serious and somber. Alexander Fu Sheng, a prominent leading man, died in a tragic car crash during production, making this his final film. His character suffers PTSD after losing his family in a horrific opening ambush, but his storyline dangles unfinished.

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Movies

A Beginner’s Guide to Chinese Black Magic Movies

By Craig Lines

Culture

Ip Man: The Man, The Myth, The Movies

By Craig Lines

The film was rewritten to focus Gordon and Lau, as well as the always brilliant Kara Hui. The cast goes all out to honor their fallen comrade’s legacy, showcasing some of the finest weapon choreography ever shot. Based on the legend of the Yang family generals, the untimely death tugs hard on the heartstrings for anyone in the know. 

Return to the 36th Chamber (1980)

Just one more Gordon Liu and Lau Kar-leung project, this is the sequel to The 36th Chamber of Shaolin, which is also amazing and available on Amazon Prime. However, Return to the 36th Chamber has such an odd concept for a sequel that warrants special attention.

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Movies

The 36th Chamber Trilogy‏ – Essential Kung Fu Movie Viewing

By Craig Lines

Liu plays a swindler impersonating the Shaolin monk San Te, the character he played in the first film. When his clan is oppressed by the Manchus gang, Liu sneaks into Shaolin, only to be deceptively trained by the real San Te, then returns for vengeance. His clan are cloth dyers, which makes for colorful pools for villains to plunge.

Liu’s uproarious rooftop Kung Fu and his battle with Wang Lung-Wei’s bench-fighter gang are outstanding. Kara Hui has the best retort after Gordon tries to play off his lack of Kung Fu, claiming it’s only for “universal peace,” and not revenge. She claps back “Huh! That’s a stupid Kung Fu.”

The Lady is the Boss (1983)

Kara Hui (aka Kara Wai) is one of the greatest Kung Fu divas of all, yet she’s only known by true devotees of the genre. If you’ve never heard of her, here is one of her finest comedy vehicles. Set in modern-day Hong Kong, Hui plays an American master returning to save her father’s Kung Fu school after his passing. Lau Kar-leung is the eldest student in charge (also the choreographer) and he resists her attempts to modernize.

Long take fights are staged in a topless club, a disco, and finally, a gymnastic gym replete with rings, parallel bars, and a beam, perfect for the choreographic shenanigans only Lau can bring. Gordon Liu appears with hair, which feels wrong because he built his reputation on playing bald monks. 

Crippled Avengers (1978)

From director Chang Cheh, the “Godfather of Kung Fu Films,” Crippled Avengers stars four members of the Venoms crew, from Chang’s classic The Five Venoms (also available on Amazon Prime).

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Movies

The Five Deadly Venoms: An Essential Martial Arts Movie

By Craig Lines

It was repackaged as The Return of the Five Venoms (and also Mortal Combat), however it is its own standalone masterpiece and has nothing to do with the original beyond the cast.

Lu Feng (Centipede from the Venoms crew) gets his arms chopped off and replaced by iron arms (a plot device that RZA echoed The Man with the Iron Fists). Lu and his father, played by the rough and tumble Chan Kuan Tai, cripple the heroes, who must then walk the road of vengeance while handicapped. The portrayal of the disabilities is dated (arm tied behind the back for the amputee, eyes closed for the blinded) but the choreography is ingenious. 

Five Elements Ninjas (1982)

Another echo of The Five Venoms from the sanguineous Chang Cheh, Five Elements Ninjas showcases the director’s unique eye for fantasy. It’s an orgy of weird fantasy weapons and ultraviolence, bloody fight scene after bloody fight scene, a cult film of truly epic proportions. As the title says, the ninjas are based on the five elements.

The gold ninjas don gold lame suits and switchblade shield hats. The wood ninjas look like rejected apple trees in The Wizard of Oz. If you turn this film into a drinking game where you take a shot whenever blood is spilled, you won’t make it past the first half hour. 

The Web of Death (1976)

What is the ultimate Kung Fu WMD? It’s a tarantula that roars like an elephant and shoots acidic webs, sparks, and death rays, and it decimates the wuxia world. The Web of Death has everything a cult film requires: crazy weapons, cross dressing, romance, complex set-pieces, halls of traps, including acid pits, spiked poles and dragon-headed sparkler cannons, silly superheroes and villains in costumes that would make MCU heroes blush. Filled with jaw dropping WTF moments, it’s a real treat for anyone into cheesy over-the-top Kung Fu cinema.

The Bride with White Hair (1993)

Based on a wuxia novel, The Bride with White Hair is a surreal plunge into the Kung Fu subgenre of Fant-Asia which blossomed in the ‘90s. It’s a doomed romance between rival cult members set in a world of swords and sorcery that stars Brigette Lin in the spurned titular role and the dreamy heartthrob Leslie Cheung.

What makes this stand out was the visionary direction of Ronny Yu. His pre-CGI special effects hold up surprisingly well. Lin’s characterization of the bride was so compelling that it spawned an homage in The Forbidden Kingdom and a remake in The White Haired Witch. The Bride with White Hair II is also available on Amazon Prime which reunites Lin and Cheung, but without Yu’s direction it’s not nearly as special. 

(US only)

Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame (2010)

Fant-Asia has been revitalized with the advent of CGI. Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame marked a triumphant return to form for director Tsui Hark. Armed with quixotic special effects, Hark casts Andy Lau as the legendary detective Di Renjie, who is like a Tang Dynasty Sherlock Holmes. Wuxia films are akin to comic book movies, filled with glaringly overdone heroes and villains, super saturated color schemes, and a lot of flying about.

It’s high fantasy wirework in front of CG backgrounds with physics-defying fight choreography by Sammo Hung (Kung Fu physics are not subject to the laws of gravity). Most of all, it takes unexpected turns like the old Fant-Asia story arcs have always done. 

(US only)

Tai Chi Zero (2012)

Director Stephen Fung took Fant-Asia another step into an emergent subgenre of Shanghai Steampunk (Legend of Korra is another example). It’s an action comedy about the legendary forefather of Tai Chi, Yang Luchan, in what was meant to be the launch of a trilogy. However, it was filmed back-to-back with the second installment, Tai Chi Hero (not free on Amazon Prime), which was released only a month later and that proximity depleted their box office returns.

Nevertheless, Tai Chi Zero was an Official Selection at several notable international film festivals because it was so stylish and funny. Both films end on cliffhangers in anticipation of the next chapter, but Tai Chi Hero loses the momentum of its predecessor, except for the final cliffhanging tease. There’s been no further development on the final chapter Tai Chi Summit since Tai Chi Hero flopped. 

(US only)

JCVD (2012)

Jean-Claude Van Damme opens this French film with a remarkable long take fight, showing he still had it on the brink of turning 50, but it’s not really a martial arts film. He plays a self-deprecating caricature of himself, although not as comedic as his lampooning self-portrayal in the Amazon Original Series Jean-Claude Van Johnson.

There’s some top-notch cinematography including more complex long takes, remarkable displays of technical skill, and directorial timing. But it’s all about Van Damme’s confession scene when he breaks the fourth wall and discusses his filmmaking process in that weird recursive, artsy French film way. It’s a long-take monologue, and Van Damme nails it emotionally with a heartfelt confession that’s not so much amazing acting as it is brutally honest. He lays it out, bares his soul, and surprisingly, it’s a sympathetic soul. It’s a truly captivating scene, a dramatic triumph that no one ever saw coming, completely redefining Van Damme as an actor. 

(US only)

The Man from Nowhere (2010)

This was Korea’s highest grossing film that year. It’s a gritty and brutally bloody tale of a pawnshop owner, played by Won Bin, who unwittingly receives a camera bag filled with stolen heroin, attracting the attention of the drug ring gangsters.

However, he’s a retired special agent with fierce combat skills, tossed into a ghetto tale with exotic dancers, organ harvesting, an innocent child who needs protection, and gang wars. Won Bin won many dramatic accolades with the five films he made, including Taegukgi and Mother. This was his final one to date and he sells the ultraviolence with remarkable panache. 

(Prime Video in the US, rent only in UK)

Kundo: Age of the Rampant (2014)

This is another outstanding Korean martial arts film, set in the Joseon period. It echoes Robin Hood, complete with a fighting monk like Friar Tuck, a Maid Marian type, only she’s a keen archer, and a Little John character wielding a shot-put ball on a rope for brutal ultra violence. Ha Jung-woo stars as the lead, a butcher who wields butcher knives, which just adds to the bloodiness. The fight choreography is fun and sanguineous, and the characters were well fleshed out, even the villain. Like a lot of Korean cinema, it takes some surprising turns in the details, little scenes that feel fresh in their presentation. And the panoramic shots are visually epic. 

(US only)

Redeemer (2015)

Marko Zaror brings an exotic Chilean actioner full of fight choreography that’s merciless, witty, and precise. Zaror is cut and yoked like a beast. He can catch great flying kicks air, roll well for nods to MMA, and handle complex continuous fights. Redeemer includes several long take scenes with the camera aggressively circling around battle, showcasing a masterful command of action and cinematography.

Set in Chile’s cool seascapes and weather worn graffiti-covered ghettos, Redeemer has a strong Catholic theme, lots of crucifixes and pondering about divine justice, which totally works as atmosphere for this fascinating fight flick. 

The Octagon (1980)

Before Chuck Norris became an invincible meme, he churned out a handful of Hollywood martial arts feature films. His third effort, The Octagon, co-starring Lee Van Cleef, is one of his best. It’s a ninja tale, pitting Chuck against noted masters like Richard Norton, Tadashi Yamashita, and his brother Aaron Norris, fighting his way into a ninja terrorist camp where the central ring is “the Octagon.” It was this film that inspired Jason Cusson to design the trademarked Octagon used in the Ultimate Fighting Championships. 

Ninja III: The Domination (1984)

In the ‘80s, there was a proliferation of cheesy Ninja films and Sho Kosugi dominated the trend. This is one of those movies that is so horrible, it’s awesome. And it’s Sho’s masterpiece. Lucinda Dickey was a Solid Gold Dancer, who starred in the breakdancing films Breakin’ and Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo, which bookended Ninja III. While she wasn’t a martial artist in real life, she has the moves, adding to the huge stable of martial actors who started as dancers (even Bruce Lee was a cha cha champion).

It’s incredibly dated with references to video games, aerobics, and the most gawdawful soundtrack ever. The choreography is horrible; Sho overacts whenever it comes to selling a punch; it’s all about Lucinda who tries–really tries–to act her way through a ridiculously dumb story about being possessed by a ninja. But the final sword fight has a ninja zombie and it’s the funniest example of what we had to endure during the ‘80s ninja craze. 

(US only)

Shaolin Dolemite (1999)

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There was Oscar buzz about Eddie Murphy’s depiction of Rudy Ray Moore in the biopic Dolemite Is My Name, but if you haven’t seen a Dolemite film, you really don’t know. Moore played Dolemite half a dozen times, but ironically in this film, he plays Monk Ru-Dee instead, and this is the only one with any real martial arts in it.

Moore took the cuttings from a 1986 Taiwanese film titled Ninja: The Final Duel, and spliced himself in to create his own story, and it’s just so cray. Beyond Moore, there are bizarre characters like the drunken Sam the Spliff, the topless Ninja Ho, and the coonskin cap wearing Davy Crockett. The story barely makes a lick of sense, but who cares? It’s mother-effin Dolemite.

The post Best Martial Arts Movies on Amazon Prime Right Now appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch2 Idea Forming

Subcon Forest was not a place for just anyone to enter and exit as they please. There was a reason these woods had such a feared reputation and was rumored to be haunted. Because it was. By the King Snatcher of Subcon(as he liked to refer to himself) and his ghastly assortment of minions and dwellers behind him as his undead army, anyone who went in NEVER came out which added to the entire fightfulness of it all!!...Well no one except two little giggling girls who were currently playing with toys and crayons. The dark sky and dead trees twisted with dangerous vines as the sun dared not shine here. If that won't convince you to stay away then maybe the giant chunk of the forest that always so dangerously cold will? Or perhaps the section that's always burning bright with enchanted flames? Or maybe the ghostly king who claimed trespassers' souls as his own or the rumor of a powerful witch? Either way, whatever helps to keep tresspassers out he was all for it. But he had no real responsibilities today. The brats could wonder around his woods as long as they didn't go near the frozen half or Vanessa, or they could go exploring on any other part of the planet for all he cared. As long as they were both back home and in bed by six he was fine with it. Right now he was sitting down enjoying his book of dark tales and legends as he relaxed in his home. The old book in his claws as glowing yellow eyes scanned over the story unfolding from it's yellow pages. Down in the world unknown there laid a kingdom drab and dark. Where darkness and shadows collided and lived in fear and power. One would be mad to even think about stepping in a place like this. Where the dead are gone but still there, the shadows played and roamed and full of terror. A frightful place brace heros dare not venture unless they wish to meet a tragic fate. Yes. This one place was alone ruled by a power hungry spirit, spited by his love in life and now seeks vengeance on any mortal who dared be foolish enough to be beckoned into his awaiting claws- SQUEAK!! .....Snatcher slowly looked up from his book with a small frown. The small express owl plush slowly slid off his face and fell onto his lap with another small squeaky toy sound and he stared down at the little girl who threw it at him and frowning back up at the ghost, and he rolled his yellow eyes. The book in his claws closed and placed down as he gave the girl what she obviously wanted, his attention. "What is it kiddo? You know it's rude to throw things at people and interrupt someone reading. I thought I taught you two better than that." "Can you fix it?" She walked up to the edge of his chair and stood on her tiptoes, poking her head over the chair and placing her hands on his lap. "Fix what?" She pointed to the toy in his lap and he blinked down at it. A noticeable tear in it's backside was present to him. He rose a brow further before looking back to the small girl by the chair. Bow had come up to join her and now both were peeking over the chair at him, and he sighed picking up said toy with a squeak. "You couldn't fix the toy yourself?" Both shook their heads before Hattie spoke back up, "You said we weren't aloud to touch any needles, and we don't know how to sew anything." He still stared at them for a moment before he sighed and forced his floating body up and over to his bookshelf in the corner and the small sewing kit on top of it. It was soon in his hands and the girls climbed onto the giant chair to have a better look at the floating sewing kit and the ghost who started repairing the small toy in his claws. The needle floating easily through the soft fabric of the toy as the floating needle pulled the thread through the tear, before he flicked a clawed finger and pulled the thread tight and the hole was closed up and tied in a tight knot to secure it in place. As he turned back around with the newly fixed toy in his hand, he snapped with his free hand and the kit immediately put itself away as he floated back over and handed the toy back to the two which was grabbed by Bow. They thanked the enormous undead creature by hugging his hand and jumping off said chair. Running out the doorway and laughing their heads off as the two chased each other around. He sighed...a rare small smile coming over his face before he settled back down into the comfy chair. Kids. So full of energy and laughter. Now where was he? OH YES!! With another snap the book went back to it's master's awaiting claws and opened at his own leisure. Now let's pick up where he left off shall we? The old dusty book crinkled in his hands when he turned the page and began reading the page he left off at. He always enjoyed reading, it helped pass the time and it was one thing he could do now more than ever now that he had no real responsibilities....He glanced back out side real quick where the girls were currently sitting on the ground and using a large mushroom near the ground as a table for them to draw their pictures on and be surrounded by their small toys. Hattie absolutely LOVED exploring and running and jumping from building and trees with her weird alien powers, something about the world she was from having denser gravity and her kind used to space traveling and having to travel in a similar situation on land. But Bow could do similar things but in a less energetic way....When asked Hattie proudly stated she taught her everything, but the smaller curly haired girl preferred to just draw and play with toys rather than adventure. It was kinda cute the way they'd just compromised about what to do everyday. But kids will be kids. With a small smile on his face and book in hands he looked back to the book. The creature of vengeance was known as one of promises and dealings. Whether If one were to want something most dear to their heart and was determined and pure, or if their heart was filled with greed, envy, and lust he would grant your reply if you were brave or stupid enough to find him. It was when one day a child from a nearby village heard of this rumor that they were excited to find out if it was true or not. Against their parents and everyone else's wishes and warnings, the small child had snuck out to venture into the forbidden dark woods. The brambles scraped and left cuts on their body, the creatures chased after and threatened to eat them if they didn't turn back now, for darker and more sinister things slept in these woods, but bravely the child went on. On and on on their journey to really see this sinister ghost who granted wishes and promises that the mortal eye would repulse to believe. Until the sinister avenger had been found and the massive shadow beckoned the child closer with a boney rigged hand. "You have traveled far and withstood the tests my forces forwarded. For that you have earned the right to one miracle granted to you. But a warning you have also earned. Be warned, with a pure and honest heart comes great rewards. With a heart who bleeds nothing but black with greed and jealousy, a foul end you shall meet. Think about the consequences greatly, for the repercussions shall be swift and tight. Think well, dear child." The small child dared to smile at the creature and simply reply, "I have no need for any treasures or anything of preciousness near me. I solely only wished for to see myself if the avenger of shadows was a true sight. And now that I have seen you for what a true being you are, I will simply be leaving satisfied my wish was fulfilled." The answer of the child amused the ancient spirit and he chuckled his hollow laugh at the very notion of it all.  "Wise answer to an otherwise difficult mortal choice. For that you shall still be granted a prize for your efforts. Name one and answer wisely." The small child as said had no need for such items like treasure and fortune, but they knew that the child's hard working mother were in need of some fortune in her life. So with a kind heart, the child looked to the spirit and asked for their miracle. "My mother works oh so hard to take care of me. It would be so nice for her to have just a little more luck on her side. Oh spirit, let me repay her for all her kindness she has shown me." "Your wish shall be granted. A selfless act is always it's own reward, but be wary of those who wish to use those fortunes to their own will." The child was permitted a safe leave back to their home and as promised their selfless act of kindness was granted by the spirit of shadows. The child and their mother mysteriously found an old box in their pantry one day that they had never known of before and upon opening it discovered many, many priceless jewels. The likes of which they had never seen before. With this new found fortune, the mother and child were able to gain a plentiful farm with all the necessities they needed to have a plentiful life. Farther down in the years the mother even remarried one of the strongest most handsome men in the small village. But this man was nothing but green with want, and treated the mother and her child terribly- SQUEAK!! ....He looked up again with a frown when another plush toy hit the side of his head. This time it was a Mafia man that fell down to rest in his open book and he looked at the two girls staring up at him again and sighed. "Ok. What now?" Bow pointed to the toy. "The arm is falling off. Can you fix it please?" He frowned down at both of them as they innocently stared back and he groaned. Beckoning a finger to the sewing kit on the shelf before putting down the book and picking up the second toy, and true to Bow's word, there was a tear in the left arm threatening to let the whole arm fall off if it wasn't fixed. The kit flew over to him and out came the same needle and thread, and again the same process repeated as he grumpily started sewing the small toy's arm back into place. Within two minutes it was as good as new and handed back to the excited little girls, and the kit back into it's own place. "Here. But next time, don't throw it at my face ok?...And let me know you want something fixed before you interrupt me, it's so rude." Both girls giggled and again ran back off as he groaned and repicked up his book from his noodle lap, and started reading again.  He was lazy, rude, and had a heart full of greed. Seeping of those who had better and helping him in life. But one fateful day everything changed. For one day he asked the child's mother a question. "My dear wife. You know I love you dearly, but I must ask you. Where did you receive such wealth and fortune." "Why, from a old wooden box in the pantry," she replied happily, "And inside the little wooden chest was gems and riches beyond our wildest dreams." "Yes, yes! But where did it come from?" "I know not how it got there or where it came from, but my child and I are oh so happy to have received such a delightful fortune. How we may live happily for a long while." Her husband was displeased with such an answer and once again asked but this time to the child. The child happily told the man his venture into the woods and his encounter with the spirit of shadows, filling the man's heart with more greed. That very night when the family slept, the man snuck out and made his own way into the deep woods of shadows and fears. Brambles cut his clothing, he cursed those who dare chase him and snap at his hinds as he ran, but the greed and lust in his heart was strong. So strong he persisted his heart green with envy. Alas finally he arrived and looking as though some creature had mangled him with their claws. The spirit was beckoning him closer with a bony rigged hand and spoke. "Oh one who's heart is sewn with greed and plight. You have sought me through danger and fright. Your actions of greed are inexcusable but like many before you have made it through the path of darkness. For that you have earned the right to one miracle, but also a warning. Be warned, with a pure and honest heart comes great rewards. With a heart who bleeds nothing but black with greed and jealousy, a foul end you shall meet. Think about the consequences greatly, for the repercussions shall be swift and tight. Oh one who comes to me with a black heart for his own wishes. I offer this to you so you may choose your wish wisely." The man paid no attention to the wise words of the ghost nor did he think about any real consequences for his actions as he spoke what he oh so desired. "Give me more riches than any man shall have!! Make my fortune one who will make me a fortunate man!! A bright castle and beautiful jewels is what I seek and most desire!!" "A answer I foresaw and one your shall have for not heeding my warnings. Oh man of greed and selfishness, you shall indeed have your wish awaiting you home. But do not be surprised when your unfortunate fate you shall unevitably meet. Now be gone creature of greed. My domain is not fit for one of you." The man left for his home and once his got there his had his miracle in the form of the purest black horse with a magnificent couch of ebony, inside the couch was boxes and jewels of every imagining. The man cared not for his wife or the young child that he had left behind, away in this marvelous new couch he received and off that horrid man went into the night with his shouts of greedy glee and pleasure as his family long forgotten. The mother and child awoken to no greedy man plaguing their lives and while the mother was quite saddened, she still had the child to watch after. As luck and fortune does benefit those with kind hearts, another man the mother sought and a kinder gentler man she got. With as much kindness to her and her child this man gave to combat the sorrows left behind by the other greed filled one. One day a message they did receive, about a much bigger estate of land and riches. The greedy man who had once left them behind without a second thought, was now no more as the spirits warnings he did not heed. As fate had decided he would be no more, a swift and tight end he did get. Leaving everything he valued behind of jewels and gold, to no man but a woman he did not care for. His wife and next of kin did receive, fame and fortune for kindness indeed. With kindness in their hearts the family did grow, and with it came all luck and fortune soon to glow. For those with kind hearts and bright minds, often find themselves on the favorite end of fate's hands. The old ghost hummed before turning the page of the book to read the next legend or dark tales of the book. It had plenty and so far this one had been the one with the most happiness in it. It was called The Spirit of Fortune and Fate. An oldie but goodie in his mind, he faintly remembered it from when he was younger, who knew someone would remember it enough after all this time to make a book with it, but I digress. He began to read the next legend- SQUEAK!! Something was thrown onto his lap and he looked down blinking to see a small cat plush on his lap, it's black fur and yellow eyes staring up at him and it looked a lot like those Nyakuza cats from the city....he rose a brow at it before moving the book and seeing the two cute children smiling up at him again. He groaned and picked up the toy...It didn't look damaged and he looked back to them with a raised brow or what could be considered an eyebrow on a ghost. "What did I say about throwing toys at me? And what exactly do you want me to fix? " He turned the toy over in his claws. Seams were tight, no holes or tears, and it wasn't in no way word. It still had it's glow in the dark eyes painted on too. "There's no damage." The curly haired child held up a bow and he looked at it. "And? What's that for?" "I can't get the bow around her neck to stay on, and it keeps looking wrinkled. Can you fix it please?" Bow was always the more likely one of the two to use things like 'please' and her slightly higher voice made it cuter. He hated(loved it but would never admit it) it and groaned, taking the small bow from Bow and wrapping the long thin end of his tail around the cat toy's body to hold it still while his hands worked. He wasn't wasting magic energy on this, this time. But one downfall of not having knees he guessed. "You couldn't have done this yourself? I thought your name was Bow, kid?" "That's the name everyone gave me because no one knew mine. Like how Hattie's....Hattie?" "...I guess you got me there." His claws worked wonders in getting the small bow to stay and at least looked decent in his opinion. He guessed it must've looked good enough to the girls too because when his tail unwrapped around it, Bow gasped and held her arms out as it dropped into the child's awaiting arms and she giggled as the pretty pink bowed cat blankly stared back at her and he repicked up his book again. "There you go, now go play and let me have my peace-" "Whatcha reading, BFF?" The ever mischevious Hated child reached her hands up and leaned against the chair to make grabby motions towards the book in his hands to which he pulled away and scowled. "A grown up book you're not allowed to read." "Why?," she asked climbing onto his chair and crawling into his lap. He held it higher in one hand. "Because I said so." SQUEAK!! The toy was thrown back into his lap and Bow jumped up and latched a hold of the chair cushion, and was helped pull up the rest of the way by Hattie. "Why?," Bow asked as soon as she was sitting in his lap too regrabbing her toy in her arms, "What's it called?" Both were straining their necks up at the book in his hands and he growled. Not in a threatening way, in a way like an older brother would if their little siblings kept bothering him. "It's Dark and Scary Legends and Stories by Ivanna Gitta Bat. And it's stories are too scary for you two." Their response was to giggle at him like regular children. He was a giant ghost and they played in a haunted forest of swamps with hands, fire spirits, dwellers, and a man trapped in the moon. Hattie had fought him and won, and had faced off against multiple enemies and other threats. How scary could his stories be?.....In a word. VERY. These stories had tales of old MEAN ghosts and gruesome fates, which was putting it lightly, and not fit for two seven year old kids. They couldn't even sleep without their space unicorn nightlight. So with a snap of his hand the book flew and hid itself in the tall shelf of books as the girls 'awwww'-ed in disappointment. "I mean it. NO!!...And what did I tell you two about throwing things at me?" "You said not to throw it at your face. We threw Mr. Night-" Bow held up the cat teddy. "-at your lap." Loopholes. They always used them. He sighed and leaned back into his chair while reaching up to rub his face. "Don't you kids have like a minion to play hide and seek with or toys you left outside to play with? You could at least learn how to tie a simple bow to keep yourselves entertained." "But you fixed them. Don't you wanna play with us?" He moved two clawed fingers to peer at the girls between them. "Not right now. You'll never understand being...endless aging kids, but grown ups sometimes want their own alone time. Like how you two like to have separate adventures, besides couldn't you just use those time pieces to rewind the damage or som-" "NO!!" Both jumped at the sudden and loud tone the kid used and she scowled up at the lightly startled ghost. "I can't use them like that!! That's not how they work at all!" ....He blinked before leaning his head in one hand and frowning, "Then elighten me please. After all I-....I don't think you even told me how they work. Besides them keeping you,...you." He pointed to the fact that she was still permanently stuck as a kid. Not that he was complaining. More company for eternity right? But she just shrugged. "I dunno exactly. I just know that you can't use them without something bad happening most of the time, that's why they're locked up." "Wait. I thought you could use them." She shook her head again. "Only reverse what they do, why do you think I use them to power my ship?" She stood in his lap and gave a salute. "The S.S. KIDDO!!" Then her form paused...and she looked down. "They also cut into the user's past and makes them go crazy with that kind of stuff. Like the evil witch in your story." That got a chuckle out of them....and it also made a lot of sense for the affects. He knew when he found one, he went full on crazy with the desire to keep them all. The power of something like THAT under his claws and more than one was appealing to him- "They kinda work like wishing stars." He snapped out of his rambling and blinked down at the little girl who plopped herself back down in her lap and blinked up at him. "Like how I made a wish on a shooting star last week for a whole plate of cookies and Cooking Cat gave me some for a surprise!! And Mustache wished to make all bad guys disappear and it gave her crazy powers to blast them away like in Timmy's video games." She scowled. "She's still a big meanie."  He huffed and smiled a bit....but paused at what she just said. '....Wished to make all bad guys disappear....' '....Gave her powers to blast them away...' How many times had he wished for a certain person to disappear? To get lost? How many times had he wished to never be able to see her again or even risk her being so close? All the trauma and bad memories and all the hurt Vanessa had ever caused could just...be whisked away. POOF!! Like it never even happened....WHY HADN'T HE EVER THOUGHT OF THIS SOONER!? Well, to be far he did have one or two little distractions that kept him on his toes-...Er. Tail so to speak. He slowly looked back to her with much greater interest now. "Well that's just the cat....But what exactly do you mean they 'work like shooting stars'? You mean that they grant wishes like genies or something?" She tilted her head confused and blinked. " I don't know what a genie is, but sorta? They make a alternate timeline that has your wants and collides in into your own timeline to make it happen. Why do you think I had to fix all those time rifts?" .....He blinked, "So you know about time and alternate timelines but you don't know how to tie a bow?" She shrugged again and he sighed..before pausing...."You said they could make anything happen?" She shrugged not paying attention now as she leaned back into his cool but soft body and pulled off her hat, reaching inside and pulling out a chocolate chip cookie and sticking it into her mouth. "I gueff so." She mumbled with her moth full. "But I don't mike dem mwilke dat." "Don't eat with your mouth full," he mumbled have paying attention. His mind was elsewhere, or more specifically on SOMEONE. ...Have you ever wished someone would disappear? Yes. And the answer might be right in front of him-  "Snatcher?" He hummed and looked down to Bow who tugged on his lowered arm. "Can you tell us a story? Please?" .....He sighed. "Alright. Ill uh..Tell you the one I just finished reading, but after this I wanna be left alone for a little bit." Both girls snuggled down into his sides and he groaned again. This would be a while. "*AHEM* Down in the world unknown there laid a kingdom drab and dark. Where darkness and shadows collided and lived in fear and power. One would be mad to even think about stepping in a place like this-" Hat Kid raised her hand. ".....Yes?" "What does 'drab' mean?" He groaned. Yep. Gonna be a looooong day today. 

[chapitre7]

Lost & Found

Hotel Del Luna [ 호텔 델루나 ] & Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo [달의 연인-보보경심 려] fanfiction

Set in an apocryphal time in the first half of the HDL drama

Inspired by this post that compared HDL to animanga xxxHolic

Read on AO3

Happy third anniversary, Moon Lovers!

“Madam, the guest from room 704 left an item.”

 Jang Man Wol did not look up from her cellphone. Such was her concentration in whatever she was scrolling, brows slightly furrowed, lips slightly pursed, that you’d be sure she was studying an important document or even reading a curious article, but Gu Chan Seong, no ordinary man, had clearly seen a familiar glint in her eyes not ten seconds earlier, had promptly told her to stop looking at cars, and was swiftly ignored. The CEO gave manager Choi the same regard she gave her hotelier; a flick of her wrist and a displeased turn of her lips.

 “Put it with the others,” she said, the tip of her tongue suddenly rising to the corner of her mouth in obvious interest, causing Gu Chan Seong to let out an indignant “Hey!”, which was returned with a glare.

 “Oh! Me! I’ll take it!”

 The ever-cheerful receptionist waltzed in, eagerly holding out both hands to the rooms manager, and Gu Chan Seong, dedicated to his mission of saving money but accidentally distracted by the preppy offering, watched as manager Choi gave Hyun Joong a gold key-chain.

 “We keep lost items?” He asked Man Wol, eyebrows raised. “From the dead?”

 Man Wol sighed deeper than was absolutely necessary, harshly putting her phone down (he caught a glimpse of her screen and yes, he had to admit he too found the car color horrid so he couldn’t blame her for her annoyance, even if he did blame her for everything else).

 “Don’t go in there,” she said, inspecting her nails, missing the way Hyun Joong was motioning Gu Chan Seong to follow him exactly there. “You’re faint-hearted and I’m not letting you out early.”

 Faint-hearted.

 “As the hotelier of the Hotel del Luna, it is of upmost importance that I know every nook and cranny of the establishment,” Gu Chan Seong said with feeling, head held high. Man Wol, all teeth, let out a hearty, deep-throated laugh that almost made her sound all the thousand years that she truly possessed.

 “Oh, be my guest, then.”

 The man nodded, needlessly adjusting his suit jacket, and followed the receptionist through the brilliant halls of the Hotel del Luna.

 Gu Chan Seong was absolutely certain that he had been around those parts before, that he had checked every room on that floor. But every floor looked exactly the same, no matter day or night, and the higher the moon was in the sky, the more confusing the architecture became, and rooms he suspected were on higher floors could be found on lower floors instead, so he was intrigued but not surprised when Hyun Joong led him towards a door he had never seen before. The small, antique plaque above the door read Lost and Found.

 “Can the dead really leave things behind?”

 “They’re not real things,” Hyun Joong said, scratching his head. “Sometimes they’re holding something when they died but they forget it in the hotel before they board away. Or their family can give them offerings!” He added, pointing a finger in the air, but the words not real kept running through Chan Seong’s mind as the door opened.

 It was very much a storage room — but a storage room at the Hotel del Luna could hardly be called ordinary. The lights were flickering, sure, and dust rose once Gu Chan Seong stepped in, threatening to suffocate him with what could possibly be deadly bacteria (then again, there were places at Sanchez’s that had the very same effect), but the wallpaper shone like the rest of the Hotel, pearlescent, rich, speaking of glorious times long past. The shelves were littered with objects and ornate boxes, some glowing under the weak lights as if they were the most precious trophies, while here and there were empty spaces with nothing but ghosts of what once was someone’s treasure, just a clean shadow of memory speaking from its form in the dust.

 While Hyun Joong placed the key-chain on what could be only called a random place on a random shelf, Gu Chan Seong, carefully treading the room, noticed a big chest in a corner, covered with a tattered piece of red velvet cloth that failed to hide away the engraved crossed circle on the wood that he knew so well from his dreams — the symbol of the Full Moon.

 He took slow, somehow apprehensive steps towards it, bravery and fear fighting a burning fight in his blood, when his fingers — outstretched, as if he were walking on tightrope without even realizing — brushed against one of the tiny boxes on the shelves and a voice filled the room as if it came from everywhere, from the very core of the Hotel,

 “Don’t touch anything.”

 Chan Seong whipped around towards the entrance, to the omniscient image of Jang Man Wol. Arms crossed, hips tilted to the side, filling his vision, walking closer, heels against wood, loud, firm, long, purple dress scraping against the dirt like it was nothing, because everything inside was her and her own, and only her hand slapping against Chan Seong’s could break the trance he sometimes inevitably fell into when it came to the immortal CEO.

 “Ow,” was his smartest answer, retracting his hand and pressing it close to his chest, almost too dramatically; he ought to spend less time with her. “These aren’t even real things!”

 “Some of them are, Harvard,” she said, adjusting the box he had touched milliliters to the left. Chan Seong moved his lips in mute grumbling. “Mischievous objects we find and secure. Best to keep them safe from you and you from them.” To that, she added a pointed look that made him feel even more like a misbehaved child and, in turn, he cleared his throat, ready to regain the upper hand in their dynamic.

 “And what’s that?” He pointed to the center of the room.

 “Ah,” came out of Man Wol, and Chan Seong could have sworn she sounded delighted.

 The box itself looked rather simple, but its importance was betrayed by the glass case that protected it; there was no other box so meticulously kept.

 “This,” Man Wol spoke as she lifted the glass and pulled the box in her hands, the preciosity of it speaking in all of her movements, slow and deliberate, “is the oldest item in the room.”

 Gu Chan Seong would bet his entire fortune that the chest with the Full Moon symbol was the oldest thing in the room but said nothing, afraid of pushing her away and losing all the progress he had won so far. Saving that fight for another day, instead he glanced at the contents of the box she held, his eyes barely blinking.

 It looked simple enough, although not without its merits. The white jade of the flower still held its shine, the metal was purposefully faded, and none of the red berries had fallen off. It was a pretty hairpin and he nodded in approval, but nothing about it spoke of jewels of old and importance.

 “This,” Man Wol said, with blatant pride, “is the hairpin given to Gwangjong’s lover, tracing back to the 10th century.”

 “Gwangjong had a lover?” Chan Seong frowned. “Wasn’t he too busy killing his brothers?”

 “He was a pretty ruthless fellow,” Man Wol agreed with a nod. “But he was actually pretty, so I don’t doubt it. Sent his entire personal guard after me when he saw me at the palace, though, I still don’t know why.” She shrugged, as if it was of no consequence that one of the country’s most bloodthirsty emperors almost killed her (keyword being almost, he could hear in his head).

 “So... What’s keeping you from selling it?” He raised a perfectly skeptical brow.

 “It’s filled with spiritual energy,” Man Wol said simply as she put the box back in its rightful place under the glass.

 “Resentful energy?” He asked, frowning, having felt no discomfort before or after setting eyes on the hairpin.

 Jang Man Wol shook her head, turning around to face him.

 “Gu Chan Seong,” she said, enunciating every syllable of his name.

 He felt the urge to swallow, wet his lips, take a step back as Man Wol took one forward. She held his gaze as if it was her own possession, the room around them all but fading to black as she wordlessly commanded him to focus on her, her back straight, her chin lifted, her hands scheming behind her back.

 “Have you ever loved someone so much that it consumed you?” Her breath was on his face, and it smelled of wine. “Have you ever had someone be everything to you, so much that you could lose everything, even your life, as long as you still had their love?”

 His footsteps made no sound, but hers were like rumbling thunder.

 “Have you ever had someone you’d follow into the next life, and the next, and the next, that the heavens couldn’t break you apart even if it wanted to?”

 She tilted her head to the side, smiling a devil’s smile.

 “And have they ever loved you the same?”

 He said and signed nothing. The question that burned and turned to ash in his tongue was, Have you?

Hyun Joong sneezed. Chan Seong blinked and, inexplicably, Man Wol seemed to be several steps farther from him than she had been just a breath ago.

 “That kind of energy,” she concluded with a smirk.

 “Ah,” Hyun Joong called, sounding closer than Chan Seong had felt him to be. “Guests have arrived!”

 “Go greet the guests, Gu Chan Seong,” said Jang Man Wol, walking past him, the center of her gravity letting go of his peace of mind, moving away with her long, swishing hair.

 Gu Chan Seong dusted his clothes off, straightened his back and composure, and walked out of Lost and Found to greet the recently departed.

***

It was still dark when Jang Man Wol woke up and she was at a loss for a couple of seconds. Certain that she had not overslept, she held her silk robe tighter around herself and walked to the window, eyebrows rising in wonder at the solar eclipse that greeted her.

 “Is that what you had been waiting for?”

 There was no one in her room but that box. Polished, simple wood carrying a universe of lost love inside.

 “Which one is it?” She asked, a playful, lopsided smirk blossoming on her face as she opened the box and picked the hairpin up. “Is it her? Is it your master? Why today?”

 The hairpin, naturally, could not speak; it only shone in the dim light as she caressed it, lost in thought.

 “Ah,” she breathed, smiling to herself. “The homeless man, he should know. But I think I saw him walking perfectly fine the other day, organizing some sort of exhibit?”

 She tapped her lips as her eyes moved to her closet.

 “I wonder if paeha is a chaebol these days? Like in that drama?”

 She giggled, a sound that could chill Gu Chan Seong to the bone.

 “Come,” she said to herself or to the ancient love in the room, her hands pulling her hair into a bun in which she pinned the jade lotus hairpin, her companion. “Let’s see what future you’ll unfold in this lifetime.”

 And Jang Man Wol rummaged through her clothes, trying to find something befit of a queen.

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Safe with me (Epilogue)

Summary: When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.

Characters: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. Brief description of smut. Mentions of depression.

A/N: The end has arrived! This Epilogue is a complete homage to CHAPTER 1, so I suggest giving that a quick re-read before diving in. 

I am genuinely blown away at the reception this story has received - I never expected it and I’m SO grateful to each and every one of you. I’ve spent six months writing these characters and thinking daily about this story, and I’ll admit I’m feeling a little emotional about the end. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing.  

SAFE WITH ME MASTERLIST PREVIOUS CHAPTER

*****

NEW YORK TIMES SUNDAY EDITION Features Section

The measure of a man By Anonymous

James Buchanan Barnes sits primly before me, mismatched hands folded on the table. Pushing a cup of coffee toward him, he unlinks his fingers, clasping them gratefully around the steaming mug.

"I don't really do interviews," he confesses. "Not sure what to say."

"That's okay," I tell him. "This isn't about being perfect or saying the exact right thing. It's just about being yourself."

He makes a face at that. "I don't think myself is something people want to hear about."

Looking into his nervous blue eyes, I give him a reassuring smile. "They absolutely will. People want to know the man behind the mask."

He doesn't like talking about himself, has never been overly comfortable in the limelight. Rolling his shoulders back, he takes a deep breath and gives me a tentative nod.

Like any good story, context is important, so we begin down the familiar route.

"Let's start at the beginning."

******

Crisp morning air wafts through the small kiosk, fluttering the bright covers of the magazines and newspapers lining the shelves. Taking a long drink of coffee, Riz smacks his lips and leans over his front counter, watching Manhattan's morning routine play out around him.

From out of nowhere, a giant stack of newspapers is hurled onto the counter and Riz tumbles back in surprise.

"What the - "

Bucky Barnes stands before him, wearing an old leather jacket and a delighted grin.

"Morning Riz, I need them all today. Oh, and by the way," he digs into his back pocket and pulls out a crumpled sheet of paper, tossing it carelessly on the stack. "Got something to show you."

The black ink is smudged in places, but there it is, the numbered boxes filled with careful block letters.

Last Sunday's New York Times crossword.

Completed.

Riz stares at the paper in astonishment. Looking up, he begins to laugh at the smug triumph on Bucky's face.

"I fucking told you I'd finish one," Bucky says, slapping his hand on the puzzle once more to reinforce his success.

Still chuckling, Riz reaches below the counter and produces a dusty rectangle wrapped in tissue paper. Bucky peels away the layers, grinning happily when it reveals a black picture frame. Riz gives him a friendly slap on the arm.

"My friend, I never doubted you."

*****

He needs no real introduction.

Familiar to anyone who cracked a grade school history book in the last seventy years, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes is a quiet enigma. The American public first met him in 1943 as Sergeant Barnes, Howling Commando and right-hand man to Captain America. His lopsided smile became so well-loved, a comforting staple in the news cycle, the women on the home front declared it a national treasure. America swooned for him, cheered for him, prayed for him, and ultimately mourned him when the reports came home of his KIA status in 1945.

When he was resurrected in Washington DC, amid a whirlwind of gunfire and explosions, he was another figure entirely. Life ripped to pieces and commandeered for decades by Hydra's brutality, he bore only a faint resemblance to the grainy black and white pictures of America's charming hero.

The history books lean into war, into combat, into the tragedy of his service; it's where the facts are most prevalent, irrefutable and absolute. Barnes' first war was for his country and his second was against it, but both lead to an unfortunate truth – most of his life, has been death.

But, beneath that iron exterior lies something else. Focused on consolidating facts and figures, history so often forgets that war is comprised of a much more important number – the beating hearts and terrified souls of those on the battlefield. Soldiers are the flesh and bone reflection of a generation's ideals and Barnes is no different than the millions who came before and after him. Stretched across the burned-out fields and shattered cities of Europe, his first war was one who's consequences still reverberate decades later.

That was his first taste of battle. It was harsh and unforgiving, but in the grand scheme of things – it was blessedly brief.

His next experience would last a lifetime. As his world careened out of control, his moral compass was broken and recalibrated, setting a man full of soft smiles and boisterous laughter, down a path of unimaginable pain and torment.

Through the course of both his lives, he's been known by a million different names. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes. Sergeant Barnes. The Asset. The Winter Soldier. Before we go any further, I want to make something crystal clear.

The man you will meet, is more than a number stamped on a paper-thin set of dog tags, clinking loose around his neck. He is more than the shadowy name in a ledger of Hydra weaponry, carefully and perfectly aimed. He is more than a salacious headline, blazoned across gossip sites for the world to read.

He is more. He is much, much more.

I want everyone to know him, because Bucky Barnes is worth knowing.

*****

Walking through the Tower, Bucky's giant stack of papers grows smaller. Opening every page to the Features section, he leaves copies scattered in every room he visits.

The coffee table in the common room. One in Steve's bedroom. One in Wilson's bathroom. One in Natasha's mailbox, because no fucking way would he try to sneak in her room. A copy in the library. One on each treadmill in the gym. One on Bruce's desk. Pausing outside Tony's lab, he sends the online link to Pepper and asks if she can post it to the official Avengers social handles. She responds with a winky face telling him it's already been done.

"FRIDAY, did you see it?" he asks excitedly, waving his last copy as he plops down on the sofa.

"Yes, Sergeant Barnes," comes the Irish lilt and Bucky wonders for the millionth time, how an AI can sound amused. "I found it to be an inspiring piece. She's a lovely writer."

"Yeah," he agrees fervently. "She's fucking awesome." Rustling the pages, he finds the article and folds it open, swallowing the lump in his throat when he reads the headline. Even though he has your story memorized at this point, he sinks into the words one more time.

*****

"Talk to me about growing up with Steve," I say, turning my phone to record and setting it between us.

Barnes looks to the ceiling and gives a low whistle. "Jesus Mary and Joseph," he says, "that kid needed a leash. Stubborn ass little ball of piss and vinegar, always getting me in trouble."

The pair met in a baseball field behind their apartment complex, when Barnes was seven-years-old, kick starting the most famous friendship in modern history.

"First time I met him, he was getting his ass handed to him. When I tried to pull him away, he was so wound up he took a swing at me. Got an arm around him and the little punk bit me. Still got the scar." Barnes extends his right forearm with a grin, showing me a faint pair of half-moons on his skin. "I knocked him upside the head, and then he wipes his bloody nose on his shirt and apologizes. Been best friends ever since."

Rogers is well-known for diving head-first into any fray, a behaviour an exasperated Barnes maintains he hasn't changed since that sweaty summer day in 1925.

"Look, he's a reckless idiot," Barnes states. "My best damn friend in the world and I'd do anything for him, but he's still an idiot."

Barnes is a colorful storyteller, spinning tales about their adventures through the streets and alleys of pre-war Brooklyn. While he talks, I find myself picking up on a theme, the word future cropping up several times. He doesn't notice until I ask.

"When you were growing up, what did you see in your future? How did you picture your life?"

Barnes raises his eyebrows at the question, falling silent as he thinks. He scratches his fingernail on the edge of the table for a few minutes, trying to articulate his thoughts. When it comes, I'm surprised.

"Not as a soldier. I never wanted to be a soldier." He bites his lip and when he speaks again, his voice is soft. "Guess I wanted what everyone wanted then. Get a decent job, put food on the table, buy a house someday. Find a nice girl to settle down with, maybe raise a couple kids. Grow old together." He gives me a wistful smile. "Always liked learning, would've loved to go to college."

The simplicity of his response is all the more heart-breaking, considering the trajectory he would later be set upon.

"All I ever really wanted, was a quiet, ordinary life."

******

The bruises littering your skin have mostly faded, the rope markings around your neck nothing more than a faint rash. Unconsciously rubbing the scabs on your wrists, you find the pain is gone, leaving behind a dull ache.

It's been over a week since that night and the entire experience still seems like a bizarre dream. There will be plenty of time spent parsing apart the details with a professional, and in fact Steve already booked you several months of weekly appointments with an experienced trauma therapist he knows through the VA. It's a relief to have that on the horizon, someone to help you work through everything.

Behind the walls of your heart though, a strange feeling emerges, one that is deeply frustrating. After everything he did, it kills you to think the traitorous thought, but your brain refuses to cooperate and there it is – there's a tiny part of you mourning the loss of a man you thought you knew. Not the man he really was – Jack deserved his violently bloody ending and you would never take that from Bucky. But Jack was someone you trusted, a mentor and friend, and you're bitterly disappointed in your inability to see the real man until it was nearly too late.

Nearly too late.

"But it wasn't," you say out loud, irrationally proud of the steadiness in your voice.

At Bucky's insistence, you've been comfortably ensconced in the Brooklyn apartment since you came back. Away from the bustle of the city, it's been heaven to hide away, resting and recovering.

Well, and of course – spending every possible minute with the moody, uncontrollable, uncooperative bucket of sarcasm that is none other than James Buchanan Barnes.

Waiting for him to come home, you wander through the comfortable apartment. Picking up his well-worn copy of The Book Thief, you tuck it carefully into the empty slot on the bookcase, tracing your fingers over the lettering down the spine, smiling to yourself.

Stepping back, you scan the familiar artwork on the walls, marvelling again at the cracked and peeling photos, at the beauty of Steve's sketches. Right then, your eye pauses when you notice two new additions.

In a shiny green frame, is an adorably childish marker drawing of a smiling Bucky holding the hand of a little girl with dark pigtails. Everyone is dressed head to toe in pink and the bottom is signed 'Gracie' in bright purple letters. The sweetness of the statement, of Bucky going to the trouble of framing and hanging artwork an adoring kid drew for him, makes your heart flip.

Above the drawing, in a simple black frame, is the other new addition. Peering closer, you find the selfie you took the night of Stark's party. Swallowing hard, you reach to touch the frame, losing yourself in memories of that night. The smooth motion of Bucky swaying, the feel of sinking into his arms, his quiet hums of pleasure sending ripples down your back.

"I had Stark get it off your phone for me," the husky voice is unexpected and you let out a bloodcurdling shriek when strong arms wind around you. Bucky chuckles, holding you tight, mouthing at the soft skin behind your ear. "Sorry, thought you heard me. Least you didn't attack me with M&Ms this time."

"That's only because we're out of them," you grumble, turning in his arms. Bucky grins, rubbing his nose to yours, before catching your lips with a sweet kiss. When he presses you against the wall, you feel every delicious inch of his heavy body and you shiver at the promise behind his hard grip. Smiling into the kiss, you slide your tongue against his, feeling the heat pool in your belly, before reluctantly pulling away. He gives a soft whine at the loss of contact, full lips dropping into a pout.

"Pathetic, Barnes," you sigh and he pouts harder. "Fine, you giant fucking baby. Ravish me then."

"Hell yes," he breathes, lifting you easily and tugging your legs tight around his waist. "Hell fucking yes."

*****

Ordinary was a sweet word, but it wasn't meant to be. Unknown to him, the darkest day of his life was drawing closer, one that would spin him in an entirely new direction.

Searching for more context around that horrifying day, I went straight to the man who saw it first-hand. He sheds the mantle when he talks about this memory, no longer Captain America – here, he is only Steve Rogers, a helpless young man watching his best friend fall to his death.

"I couldn't do anything. Nothing. I just watched him slip away," Rogers says. His guilt is palpable, the musings of a man shouldering far too much. "It pisses him off when I say it, but it's the truth. Won't ever forgive myself."

Barnes shakes his head when I mention this, adamant in his refusal to assign a hint of blame.

"There was nothing he could have done," he states emphatically. "Absolutely nothing."

While Rogers can recount every horrifying detail of that day, in this small fact, Barnes is lucky. I ask him what he remembers.

"It's funny. I remember wondering how the hell my hands could be so sweaty when it was so damn cold outside." He flexes the fingers of his right hand, considering them. "I lost my grip on the bar and I heard Steve screaming. I don't remember the fall itself though, must've passed out on the way down. Next thing I know, I open my eyes and I'm half-buried in snow. There was – the snow was red. All around me, bright red. My arm wouldn't move and I couldn't feel anything from the waist down."

Most of Hydra's files from the start of the Winter Soldier project have been lost, either as they changed hands over the years or through the natural decay of time, but those recovered allude to Barnes suffering catastrophic injuries in the fall that should have left him dead. His left arm was found hanging by no more than a few strips of muscle, his spine was shattered, his lungs nearly collapsed. There was no possible reason he should have survived.

But – running through his veins was something unexpected.

"Knock-off Nazi trash serum," Barnes drily refers to it. During his weeks spent as a POW in Azzano (the Hydra work camp he was liberated from in 1943), Barnes was an unwilling participant in a number of experiments conducted by that same Arnim Zola he was chasing that day on the train.

Laying in the snow, Barnes admits he thought he'd reached the end of the line. Every soldier entertains the possibility they may never return home, and Barnes made peace with that fact.

"Here's the thing. I had a family waiting for me in Brooklyn. A baby sister I promised to give away at her wedding. A best friend I left hanging on a busted train miles above me. I was 27-years-old, lost in another country, and I sure as hell didn't want to die. I kept thinking I had so much damn living left in me, so much I wanted to do."

His words are tragic in their familiarity, a prayer to be repeated by thousands of voices in the decades that followed, from Korea to Vietnam, from Iraq to Afghanistan. Generations of young men and women just like Sergeant Barnes, left broken and bleeding on foreign soil.

He cracks the knuckles on his right hand while he thinks.

"It seemed inevitable though, so I tried to get myself ready. Remember it being dead silent in that canyon, so I had plenty of time to think. Plenty of time to cry. There were definitely tears. But the longer I laid there, I started to feel warm and things didn't hurt so much. So, I thought hell, if I gotta go, maybe this is better than taking a bullet and bleeding out in the middle of a firefight." Barnes gives a hollow smile. "But right as it got dark, I heard dogs barking. Next thing I know, I'm surrounded by men shouting in Russian. Couldn't move a damn finger, couldn't do anything but lay there and panic. Took a boot to the head and passed out."

Here, he gets a distant look in his eyes. "The next time I woke up, it was – I don't understand it, I don't know how, but I guess it was months later. I was strapped to a table and the whole left side of my body felt like I'd been hit by a train." His lip curls. "And there was Zola, looking down at me again. Thought I was having a flashback."

It wasn't a flashback. On that surgery table, was the start of a waking nightmare that would continue unabated for the next seventy years.

******

The first night you spent together was marked with heat and urgency, a clear desperation to feel each other before the moment was lost. When Bucky pushed you away the morning after, it broke your heart, but the night itself, before all hell broke loose – it was beautiful and perfect and right. You wouldn't trade it for anything.

Now, though.

Now.

Fuck.

All his tight control and fervent attention to detail is one thing when he shifts into work mode – but in bed, when he turns that intense focus directly on you, he is devastating. Every stroke of his fingers comes slow and purposeful, building the heat in your stomach. Every kiss drips with love against your sweaty skin, full of unspoken promise. Every move of his body in yours is deliberate, wringing every last drop of pleasure he can coax from your body.

He was the kind of lover you dreamed about, committed to pleasing you above all else, making you feel everything again and again and then once more for good measure.

Never breaking his steady rhythm, Bucky now pulls you to your knees, your back flush against his chest. Wrapping his arm tight across your breasts, his tongue drags a leisurely line up your neck, his other hand slipping between your legs.

Breathless little grunts fall from his lips, warm panting against your skin with each sharp snap of his hips. Closing your eyes, you mirror his movements, clinging to the cool metal at your chest, desire crawling up your spine when you reach down and feel his fingers rubbing quickly.

Murmuring filthy little comments in your ear as he pushes into you, his words spark some unknown part of you that apparently lives for the sound of Bucky Barnes telling you how good you make him feel, how much he loves fucking you. Breath suddenly wrenched from your lungs, you tumble headfirst over the edge with a low, satisfied moan.

"There you go, that's it," he whispers encouragingly, sucking the smooth skin on your shoulder as you tremble in his arms, spiraling further and further.

You hope you never stop falling.

*****

Memories are a strange thing.

Through his time with Hydra, Barnes had his brain repeatedly wiped, cleared and cleaned out again and again. Since his return to the land of the living, thanks to intensive therapy and a determined Captain Rogers, he has broad strokes and frames of reference back in his life, remembrances before the fall settled firmly in his brain. But vestiges of his past still linger, and his time with Hydra has resulted in a sort of shared mental capacity.

"There's another guy in your life," I begin hesitantly and I see Barnes' lips twitch.

"That's one way to put it," he says.

When Barnes speaks of the Winter Soldier, his expression grows grim. The lines of his life are irrevocably tied to this legendary presence, a ghost sitting on the fringes of his mind, something more myth than reality. It is a heavy burden to bear.

"For the longest time, I tried to keep us separate. The Soldier was one thing. I was another. It was easier to blame all the terrible things that happened on him, rather than admit I played any part in it." I remind him he didn't – that's the fundamental issue with brainwashing, and he gives me a patient smile. "In theory, I know. All those years, it wasn't me. I know. But I still did it."

On a personal level, I own a single memory of the Winter Soldier, one that is overwhelming in its complexity. He was everything you've imagined. Hard. Violent. Angry. But behind that mask, I found a man I never expected. Gentle. Confused. Protective. Kind. The Soldier was a kaleidoscope of emotions, neatly packaged in the mind of a man who spent his entire life at the mercy of others.

I will not condone his past and neither will Barnes, but I highlight this simply to signal the opportunity for redemption. Earning that redemption has been a long process, one Barnes started by first bringing back his memories of their shared past. He recalls the experience of remembering cautiously, the process itself a memory that makes him flinch.

"There were days when nothing would happen. Mind would just stay white, it wouldn't show me anything. That was frustrating, but also kind of a relief. If I couldn't remember, then I didn't have to face up to the things I'd done. But other days. God." He blows out a huge breath and leans back in his chair, raking his hands through his dark hair. "They came back with a vengeance."

Sometimes the memories were hazy, surreal fever dreams that felt confusing in their reality. Other times, they were shockingly vivid, nightmares from which he visibly shudders as he recalls.

Not everything was returned, which is both a blessing and a curse. Some things his brain refuses to allow in, a coping mechanism he doesn't try too hard to unravel. He knows there are some things better left forgotten.

But where he can, as much as he can, he is adamant about making amends. He understands it won't change the past. That's not the point.

When he breaks it down for me, I ask a loaded question. Is there a measure of peace that comes with remembering? His nose wrinkles as he thinks, playing with the coffee mug still in his hands. One thing about Bucky Barnes, is that he never delivers a half-baked response. When he finally answers, his words have a philosophical bend.

"Yes. I've come to grips with the fact that all those years weren't something I could control. I don't like to remember, but I think I owe it to people." He nods slowly while he speaks, as if convincing his own heart to get in line. "If remembering is my penance, if my suffering gives others peace, then I guess yeah – I'm happy to pay it."

*****

Sucking tiny hickeys down his neck, you laugh at the sound of his pleased little purrs. Leaving one last purpley-red bruise above his heart, you settle comfortably between his legs and fold your hands across his bare chest. Propping your chin on your knuckles, you study him.

"Do you know my first impression of you, the day we met?"

Bucky raises a lazy eyebrow and grins. "Shock at how devastatingly handsome I was?"

"Don't get cocky Barnes, you're not that good in bed."

"Yes, I am," he promptly replies.

Wiggling against him, you rub your cheek against the bristly hair on his chest. "Hmmm. True. Anyway, I remember that day, you were acting all pissy and annoyed, big shocker I know, and I was looking at your scruffy face – "

"I didn't have time to shave that morning," he interrupts.

"And all your fluffy hair – "

"I was having a great hair day," he confirms.

"And that old leather jacket – "

"It's my favorite jacket, makes me look sexy and intimidating," he says.

"Buck, I'm trying to tell a story here."

"Right. Sorry babe."

"Anyway. You were standing there with your scruffy face and fluffy hair and that leather jacket, and I kept thinking you were the kind of guy who'd screw a girl in a bar bathroom, slap her ass, and never call."

"That sounds very unsanitary," he whispers, tapping your nose lightly. "But if you really want to try, I'll give it a go."

"What a saint."

"I really am."

*****

Just thinking about everything Barnes has experienced is enough to make my brain ache. Imagining what it must have been like for him, is baffling.

"All those years, through everything – how did you cope with it all?"

"I fought it for a long time, until they figured out how to wipe it all out – my memories, who I was. The longer I was out of cryofreeze, the more random thoughts would come back, but it was so confusing. I'd end up trying to compartmentalise it all. Separate it out, put parts of my life and my memories into little boxes in my head. It was the only way I could deal with it.

His ability to compartmentalise and separate himself from the situation at hand, would prove to be useful, a common coping method for trauma survivors. "I'd kind of retreat into myself. I got very good at finding safe spaces in my head." He gives a nonchalant shrug. "Knew if I didn't, there'd be hell to pay."

He must have learned new things then, other ways of coping. What gets him through the days now?

"I guess – it's like, you just put one foot in front of the other. Every day, you get up and do it and at some point, it becomes second nature."

"What was it like in the beginning?"

Rubbing his jaw, he shakes his head. "It was terrible. There were weeks I didn't want to get out of bed. Was terrified of what I might do, who I might see. And everything just felt – heavy, I guess? Not sure that's the right word. It was like my brain wanted to give up, but my body wasn't done yet. I hid from real life for a long time."

Known during WW2 as Combat Stress Reaction, Barnes was familiar with his symptoms. It took no time at all to diagnose him with one of the most disturbingly common conditions affecting those in service: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

"It wasn't something we talked about back then," he says. "But we all knew what it was. People just tried to deal with it though, they didn't look for help."

The world has changed for the better and now discussions around this topic are no longer taboo. Even then, Barnes says he initially found it difficult, because the idea of it – of help – was such a foreign concept. Now though, he's an enthusiastic supporter.

"We don't talk about it enough," he says firmly. "It's better now, but we need to be more open and honest with each other, so we can figure out how to live." Tipping his mug back, he drains the last dregs of coffee. "Humans are weird, you know? We make things hard sometimes and we shouldn't. You can't be afraid to ask for help. You're not alone."

*****

Bucky picks up his phone and gives a cursory glance at the list of notifications. The screen lights up with message after message, line after line, and he scrolls through nervously, before he realizes what he's seeing.

"Jesus H Christ."

Feeling your heart lurch, you look at him in alarm. "What? What happened?"

Slowly, he turns his phone screen to face you, eyes comically wide, face bone white.

"I'm trending on Twitter."

*****

Part of me expected Barnes to have a limited knowledge of culture and history. He likes to feign confusion at times ("honestly, screwing with Sam Wilson is a highlight in my life"), but in reality, he's one of the sharpest people I've met. Spending so much of his life as an undercover operative, he was required to keep up to speed on the world, always assimilating into new environments.

Finding a work-life balance is key though, so what are the things he does for fun, just for himself?

"Netflix," he declares. "is the greatest thing ever invented. You know Stranger Things, right? I love Eleven, that kid's my hero."

Agreeing wholeheartedly, I push him to expand. What else?

"Um, I like to eat? Tacos, pizza. Snickers. Breakfast cereal. Damn, yeah. Breakfast cereal. I could eat Captain Crunch every single day of my life. Captain Crunch kicks Captain America's ass."

On that note, he has a famous relationship with Steve Rogers, but what about the rest of the Avengers?

"Took me awhile to fall in with the team," he says matter of fact. "Didn't trust them and they sure as hell didn't trust me. But now? I'd take a bullet for any of them. They're – we're family."

Time for our interview is winding down, and Barnes is finally relaxed. With my final set of questions, I struggle to keep the smile off my face, but I can't help myself.

"You know you've got quite the status as a moody broody heartthrob, right?"

His eyes go wide at the question, a red flush instantly staining his cheeks. "What? No. No, that's – no. No. I'm definitely not – no. God no."

The look of horror on his face is entertaining and I wait for him to finish spluttering before I continue. "So, are you saying you're single? A free agent?"

He looks taken aback for a moment, but when realization arrives, along with a sparkle in his eye, he relaxes. He knows what I'm doing.

"I didn't say that."

"So – there's a special someone then?"

Barnes gives me that trademark smile and ducks his head. "Well, there's this girl."

"Tell me about her."

"She's a real pistol," he enthuses. "Smart. Funny. A real ball-breaker. Swears more than anyone I've ever met."

"She sounds like fun."

"She is," he agrees. Tilting his head, he fixes me with an intense stare and his voice grows serious. "She's got my whole damn heart, right in the palm of her hand. It's all hers. I'll spend every day if I need to, making sure she knows that."

At his words, my heart leaps. When I try to respond, I hear my voice crack.

"She's a lucky girl."

"Nah," he replies, bashful at the compliment. Reaching across the table, he picks up my hands and holds them tight. "I'm the lucky one. She makes me feel safe."

*****

"We haven't left this bed for a couple days. Should we go do something?" Drawing random little patterns across his skin, you pause at his nipple and give it a pinch.

"Nope, we're staying put," he says, shoving your fingers away and giving you a stern look. "That tickles."

"Does it?" Tweaking his nipple again, he yelps.

"Woman, don't you listen?"

"Sorry, couldn't hear you over the sounds of someone being a whiny bitch."

With an outraged growl, he rolls you over, using his knee to shove your legs open and pinning your arms above your head.

"Wanna try again?"

Batting your eyelashes at him, you mirror his earlier pout. "I was just saying how devilishly handsome you were and how much I love you."

Bucky grunts his approval. "That's what I thought."

Stretching up, you leave a sloppy kiss on his chin. "So, are we leaving or what?"

"Hard no," he shakes his head. "Made myself a promise, I'm not breaking it."

"Did you now? And what was that?"

"That if I got you back, if I didn't fuck it up again, I was keeping you in my bed for at least a week. Minimum."

"Hmmm," you say, trying to keep your face serious. "Sounds like a solid plan, except what if I want to shower?"

"Excellent," Bucky breathes, eyes lighting up at the question. "Then I'll join you. Never know what kind of trouble you'll find in the shower, when you're all wet and slick and soapy – yep, that's it. You're a dirty, dirty girl. Shower time you hussy, move your ass."

Scrambling off the bed, he tosses you over his shoulder and palms your bare ass, squeezing a handful. Giving you a playful smack, he stalks toward the bathroom, the sound of his happy laughter echoing through the apartment.

******

Recently, there was news coverage around the Avengers taking down a Hydra sleeper cell in upstate New York. The mission was led by Sergeant Barnes and was deemed a success, with the threat being fully eradicated.

That mission, was put in motion to save someone.

That someone, was me.

Here's the thing. In journalism, you need to remain unbiased and when I'm reporting on news, I'll always strive to report the unbiased facts. But if you haven't guessed yet, I have a more personal stake in this story.

Combine everything you know about James Buchanan Barnes, from annals of history to the words I've shared today, and you have a fact-based portrait of this remarkable man.

But facts are not what make up the measure of any human being.

Here's what else I know.

When he gets nervous, his palm sweats. He's terrible at sharing food and shamelessly blames his super soldier metabolism for that fact. When he concentrates, his nose scrunches up and when he laughs you can find little wrinkles circling his eyes. Sometimes when he can't sleep, he wanders down to the local rest home to visit with Alzheimer's patients, because he knows what it's like to not remember. He always keeps a crossword in his pocket because it keeps his brain sharp. He loves Rocky Road ice cream and fuzzy blankets and his favourite colour is actually pink. Bitter black coffee is his drug of choice and he could watch 'I Love Lucy' all day long.

Even now, as I hand you these snippets of his life and let you paint your own picture of the man so many still scathingly refer to as the Soldier, it's only a rough sketch. Like every person on this planet, Bucky Barnes is comprised of more complex layers and subtle nuances than it is possible to describe, a man full of contrasts. Made of unbreakable metal and soft touches, at times frighteningly rough and astonishingly gentle, swathed in despair and brimming with light. He's seen the blackest horrors lurking in the chaos of war and experienced first-hand the depravity of humanity, yet he remains one of the most compassionate people I've ever known.

The first day we met, I contemptuously declared "I don't do soft human-interest stories."

How times have changed.

Here I am, pen in hand and heart on my sleeve, so soft for this man I feel it in my bones. We live in a world where good does not always triumph over evil and where far too often, love is not enough. I am lucky beyond measure to have found Bucky Barnes. So here, at the end of my story, I leave these words, for him and him alone.

If Death sees fit to grant me his heart, I'll offer my own in return. Unreservedly, now and always.

*****

Bucky watches the shadows lengthen through the apartment as the sun sets. Eventually he'll get up and turn on a lamp to chase the dark away, but for now he's content to lay here with you humming sleepily, twirling a finger around his damp hair.

Sprawled together on his bed, tangled up in each other, the word flits through his mind. Bucky understands what he has now, what you gave to him. What it means to be –

Safe.

*****

[seriouslyhooked]

Scoring Your Love (Part 17/18)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven,Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen. Story also onFF here and AO3 here. Banner by the wonderful@timetravelandfairytales

Modern AU where Killian is a world famous soccer star who has hit rock bottom and been sentenced to the place where ‘football’ legends go to die – America. While here he crosses paths with Emma, an up and coming musician and film scorer who challenges everything he thought he knew and makes him want more than the game he’s always loved. Will be filled with fluff for days. Rated M.

A/N: So at last I find myself at a chapter I have long been anticipating, and it has certainly taken long enough to get here. Between school and other fics, this has been a slower updating process than I expected, but I am hoping the next two chapters will be worth it. They are the last two chapters this fic will get for the time being (though I am planning an eventual epilogue, that I will hopefully write when I’m on winter break). That being said, you should all strap in for my usual dose of CS cuteness with this one! Thanks so much for reading, and hope you enjoy!

“All right, all right! I know you’re pleased with yourselves but I need you all to settle down, or I can’t say what needs to be said!”

Robin’s voice was raised as he addressed the team at the halfway point of their playoff game against New England, but the good humor of the moment shone through all the same. This was supposed to be a very competitive match. Their opponent was highly ranked, and they were in the semi-finals. The winner of this game would move on to the final round, and the victor of that game would win the MLS cup. But instead of it being a close call, this was turning into a blow out, much to the enjoyment of Killian’s teammates. The score was 3-0, and since Killian had played a part in each of those goals, he was rather pleased with himself, just as Robin knew he would be.

“So it turns out the first half has been a bit of a walk,” Robin said when the room had settled some. “But I don’t want any one of you pulling off the gas. We need to go out there and play just as hard as we did this half. For lack of a better phrase, we can’t go taking our eyes off the ball.”

The groan that emanated through the room at Robin’s cliché words would have been laughable in any other moment, but for Killian, his high production on the field today wasn’t the product of determination, but of anticipation. Right now, Emma was out there, watching in the stands as they played for a chance at the league’s title game, and he wanted to do her proud to be sure, but this wasn’t where the evening would end. After this game commenced, Killian had a night he hoped they would always remember planned out, and this waiting to get there was slowly eating away at him. To reassure himself he moved back to his allotted locker area, pulling from his jacket the little black box that held a token of his future.

The ring inside was one that meant more than money could buy. It was his grandmother’s ring, and it was one of the few mementos Killian had not only of her but of his mother as well. It had been her wish before she was sick that Killian should have it someday, and after keeping it safe for years, Liam had returned it a few weeks back when they’d made up again.

“I know now that doubting you was fruitless, brother,” Liam had said after meeting with Emma and apologizing for his part in their falling out. “You did as Mum always wanted. You let your heart lead you, and you found a good woman very worthy of your love.”

Killian could not possibly agree more, and with the Gold mess now behind them (the bastard had actually been denied bail, meaning he was sitting pretty in a jail cell) things with Emma had been at another level. The happiness he had known before seemed to eclipse itself, and though it was still soon – too soon by certain standards – Killian’s certainty in his love for Emma had only grown. This was an attachment and a bond that would not be going anywhere, and he felt a need to tell her this and to beg her to let them start their life together once and for all.

“Bet it feels like this game is taking forever,” David commented from beside Killian, pulling Killian from the reverie.

Killian noticed the team meeting was finished as his friend said the words. Robin had concluded whatever motivational speech he had in store while Killian was busy thinking of other things and his teammates were all preparing to return to the pitch. David, though, seemed just as unfazed by the game before them as Killian, instead turning his attention towards Killian’s plans, which he was already apprised of.

“Aye. I just want the blasted match to be done with.”

“I get that,” David said with a genuine tone before feigning a whisper. “But maybe don’t go yelling that in front of these guys. We haven’t all won world titles before.”

“Sorry, mate, I -,”

“No need to explain,” David said with a shake of his head. “You love her. I understand that more than you know.”

“So you and Mary Margaret then… it’s evolved to that so quickly?”

“Yup, and you better get on with proposing unless you want me to go first. I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

Killian laughed at David’s bombastic statement as they headed out of the team room and back down the hall towards the field once more. His friend’s tone was so decided, so absolute, and to many other men it would seem crazy, but Killian could totally relate. He himself had been in love with Emma for what felt like forever, and that was obvious in everything he did. Even now, as he walked back out into the arena, his eyes immediately searched for her in the spot he knew she was sitting in. Only when he found her did he find any sort of real comfort, and when he saw that she was looking at him too he was lost. Damn if that woman wasn’t the most remarkable thing the world over. She was a treasure, and he had every intention of squaring this game away so he could remind of her that fact.

Luckily for Killian and his team, the second half proved just as fortuitous as the first. It was a runaway in the end, not so unlike a few other games they’d had this season, but as they arrived back in the team room the celebration was immediate and rowdy. Everyone was in the best spirits, but Killian’s impatience remained. He wanted to get going. He knew he had to stay for Robin’s speech and eventual toasting, but he tried to calculate in his head how soon he could depart and at what time he could sneak out.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” The question came from Graham and Killian turned to look at his friend who had the same knowing grin on his face that David had had before him. Killian was going to respond that he did, but that it had to wait, but then their coach stepped in with a surprising announcement.

“Indeed he does. He’s off to get the girl, though a word to the wise, I’d suggest you hit the showers first. I don’t know how romantic a night it’ll be if you show up pitch-fresh.”

Killian stopped himself before he could ask if Robin was sure. Truth be told, Killian didn’t want to risk anyone changing their mind. If they were saying he could run off and clean up quickly before heading out without consequence, then he was damn well going to do that. Grabbing his things as quickly as he could Killian thanked them both and wished them a good celebration before heading on his own merry way.

Within ten more minutes Killian was showered and ready to find his Swan, and much to his delight she was waiting for him too. Tiny, it seemed, had found her again during this game and she was waiting for him in the same place she had been at the first game she came to. It made Killian think of just how far they’d come to see her here again, but when she saw him watching her, Emma didn’t hold back this go around. Instead she walked right up to him and pulled him in for a kiss that stole his breath away.

“You were something else tonight,” Emma murmured when they pulled back. Her eyes were darker than they had been a minute ago, giving away the heat and desire she was feeling. It made Killian crave more, and his hands held her close despite their being out here in the open. Hell if he cared who saw them. His hope was that the whole bloody world would know they belonged together in just a matter of time.

“So I did you proud then, love?” he teased and Emma bit her lip, drawing his attention to her mouth once more.

“You could say that. Mostly you just made me want you though, and honestly I’m a little sad you didn’t come out in your uniform. I spent a good chunk of the game thinking about how you look in it…”

“Fuck,” Killian groaned, his head totally spinning out of control as he faced his Swan in full effect. She was deliberately trying to get a rise out of him, but he knew she meant the words too and he made a mental note to create a space for her to live out those dirtier fantasies of hers soon. “We’ve got to go, love, or we’ll never get out of here.”

“Go? I didn’t realize we had plans.”

“Oh we have plans alright,” Killian stated with finality before bringing her hands up to kiss one by one. “You trust me, don’t you Emma?”

“Always,” Emma agreed and Killian beamed back down at her before leading her out into the LA evening and towards a key step in their story that he couldn’t wait to get to.

…………….

Staring out the window of Killian’s car as they cruised down the 101, Emma felt a sense that she was exactly where she most needed to be.

So far her day had been wonderful. She’d woken up with Killian and got to spend the morning with him before he had to head to the stadium to prep for the game, and then she had the chance to go and see him in action. Her friends were all there, including Mary Margaret and Ruby (who were cheering along for their own guys, having both committed to David and Graham respectively) and Belle and Elsa. Since Elsa was there, Liam had also made an appearance. He was prone to showing up wherever Elsa was these days, and Emma loved to see the two of them at the start of what she knew would be a long-term romance. They were both so smitten and cute as could be, but Emma tonight had been totally focused on Killian.

In the time she and Killian had known each other, Emma had learned so much about this sport. She knew that certain things took so much skill and finesse, and though she’d loved seeing him play that first game, she had so much more appreciation this go around. Seeing Killian out there playing his heart out was riveting and amazing, and it was like everyone in the stadium knew they were witnessing greatness. Four goals for the night and three assists was a crazy number, and the footwork and the rhythm that he had, and that he inspired for his team was breathtaking. For Emma though, greatness didn’t end with the game. In fact, it seemed it was only beginning.

“You realize that before I started dating you I was actually well known for hating surprises, right?”

Killian’s chuckle filled the space around them as his hand came to take hers. The feeling when they touched was still dazzling, and though time had made it a familiar thing, Emma still marveled at the buzz it sent humming through her.

“I do realize that, Swan. But I am also fully aware that you happen to like my surprises, and I’m hoping this one will prove my best yet.”

Emma jokingly mumbled something about him being over the top, but the sentiment faded away when she saw where they pulled up. They’d been driving up the coast to Malibu for some time, but Killian just pulled up in front of a gated home that was truly remarkable. It sent a shiver of recollection through her, since the gates and the grand façade made Emma think of their first date, but this home was more modern and in turn just a little more vibrant. In truth, it was probably the most beautiful house Emma had ever seen, and as Killian drove up the driveway, Emma could already tell it would have the most breathtaking views of the water and the coastline.

Without more than a few words shared between them, Killian parked and opened her door, taking her hand and leading her into the house. On the inside Emma felt that despite it’s extravagant size, this house still felt like a home. It was warm in here, inviting and open and the space filled with promise. The sound of the waves that could be heard ever so slightly in the background soothed Emma almost as much as the feel of Killian’s hand in hers, and she found herself sighing a little, loving the calm that came so quickly when they were alone. She ended up following Killian through the whole place, thinking to herself that the owner of this house had exceptional taste, and that it was crazy how perfect the ambiance was. It was a beautiful blend of what her place looked like and what Killian’s had going for it (though clearly done at a much more expensive rate), and though Emma knew it was likely just another friend of Killian’s making a beautiful date possible for them, Emma couldn’t help thinking that a house like this might be truly ideal.

“I was hoping I could tempt you into dinner with me here, love,” Killian said after they’d walked around the first floor, seeing all the home had to offer on this level while heading towards their real destination. “But then I reasoned dinner wouldn’t be enough. So perhaps we could start with a walk on the beach. I think we’re only a few minutes away from sunset.”

“That sounds perfect.”

The look of happiness that Killian shared with her at her words touched Emma’s heart. He was so invested in her enjoyment and he always looked for her approval and what she wanted. That thoughtfulness was indescribably wonderful in her mind, and it was a fundamental part of this man who she loved so dearly. He was romantic and sweet, even if he had a charming and sometimes roughish way about him, and as Emma looked out at the open sea and the vibrant sunset that set against it, she leaned into Killian, cherishing his warmth and strength and presence.

“How do you keep doing this?” Emma asked. “How do you keep giving me so much and making me feel…” Her words trailed off. There was so much she always felt with him, it was almost impossible to describe.

“How do I make you feel, Emma?” Killian asked, bringing her face back up to look at him as he held her close. She studied his handsome features, made all the more gorgeous in the dwindling light, and then she confessed everything that she held in her heart.

“You make me feel like love will always be here and like it’s more than enough. I feel braver with you, surer in myself and in my future. I feel like anything’s possible, and like the happiness we’ve found isn’t going anywhere. At least not any time soon.”

Killian’s brilliant blue eyes shone bright with his own joy at hearing her words, and it made him even more irresistible. To have someone be so open and candid in their adoration of her was intoxicating, and Emma didn’t think she’d ever get enough of the sensations that came with knowing Killian loved her so deeply and so truly.

“If I had my way that happiness would never leave, Emma,” he claimed as his hand ran up her side, gently sending tingles through her whole entire being. “Tell me, Swan. What do you think of this place?”

“I think its paradise,” Emma admitted as she looked back around at the ocean and the house and this private strip of beach that came with it. “It’s like a little slice of heaven. I can’t believe how close it is to home.”

“About that… what if it was home?” It took a second but realization dawned on Emma.

“Oh my god, did you buy this? Are you moving here?”

“Only if you’ll move with me,” he said. Emma’s jaw dropped from the shock, though in the back of her mind a little voice told her that she’d known this was coming. It was only a matter of time before Killian made this move, but she nearly fell over as he made another one, dropping down to one knee right there in the sand.

“Killian, what are you doing?” She asked, even though she knew. She watched him pull a small black box from his pocket and Emma was certain that a ring was inside of it, but still her breath caught when she saw the band (and diamonds) in person.

“Call me old fashioned, or perhaps just terribly impatient, but I can’t help it dreaming of us being here together while my ring is on your finger.”

Emma felt tears welling up in her eyes. The emotion of the moment was overtaking her, but it was all good, so very very good. There was no fear or anxiety in her heart at all. She wasn’t scared of this future, in fact she’d been hoping for it for so long she wondered if she hadn’t wished this into happening. Still it felt too good to be true – how could this really be her life? How could any one person be so lucky?

“Emma Swan, from the moment we met, I knew I was in trouble. I was at risk of falling completely and irrevocably in love with you, and low and behold I did. This wasn’t what I thought I would happen. I never imagined that I could feel this way or know with this much certainty that you are the key to damn near everything, but here I am, love. I look at you and I see forever. I see a life worth living, a love that will not end, and a hope unlike any I have ever known. You bring everything to life, Emma. You make anything possible, but the only wish I have – the only one I’ll ever have – is to spend the rest of my days loving you and showing you just how much you mean to me. So with that being said. Emma Swan, will you -,”

“Wait,” Emma said, closing her eyes for a moment and gathering her courage to ask one last question. When she opened her eyes again Killian looked concerned, and he’d risen to his feet, coming to hold her again. He looked so worried, and she hadn’t meant to do that – but she had to just hash this one thing out before she said yes, which she was absolutely going to do.

“Emma?”

“I want to marry you – I will be marrying you,” she said, prompting Killian to exhale a breath and pull her closer, but she kept talking, not wanting him to get ahead of himself. “But I want to be sure that this is what you want. We don’t have to stay here, Killian. If your heart is back in England, we can make it work. This house is gorgeous –honestly it’s beyond perfect – but we can find happiness wherever life takes us, whether it’s here or not.”

“My heart is wherever you are, Emma,” Killian promised her as his hand came to cup her cheek and his smile returned to full brightness again. “And I signed the final contracts today. I’ll be staying on with Galaxy. I’ll be staying right here. Nay, we’ll be staying right here.”

“We will?”

“Aye, love.”

Their excitement propelled them towards a kiss Emma was dying for. It felt so good and so happy and so right, but before she could totally get swept away into her husband, and whatever his other plans were this evening, she felt she had one last thing to say.

“I think I kind of messed this up.”

“Not possible, Emma. You are by definition perfect.” Emma rolled her eyes, causing her fiancé (her fiancé!) to laugh again.

“Could you maybe… ask me again?”

“As you wish, love.” Killian dropped down on bended knee once more, looking up at her with nothing short of elation as he took this final step. “Emma. You know everything now. You know my heart and my wants and all I wish for you and I together. Will you please make me the happiest of men and agree to be my wife?”

Emma laughed at the way he said it, but her answer was still the same. Yes. A million times yes.

Her answer was more than satisfactory this time, and as soon as Killian slipped the diamond ring on her finger, he surprised her by sweeping her up into his arms and marching her right back onside into the house. He moved past everything they’d seen before, and the dinner was, for the moment, forgotten. Instead, Emma’s soon to be husband was on a mission, and it entailed him climbing up the stairs with her and getting her into a bed – their bed – to have his wicked way with her.

“I had all these ideas in my head, Emma,” Killian said gruffly as he stripped clothes she was wearing from her body, causing her pulse to pick up and her breathing to hitch.

“You did?” She asked, dazedly as he started removing his own clothes, distracting her with his toned physique and lust-filled gaze.

“Aye. I was going to take my time with you, drive you wild, spend hours pleasing you and only you. But I think that will have to wait. I don’t think I can keep my self control.”

“I don’t want you to,” Emma said as her hands ran across his chest and down his abdomen, coming to unbutton his jeans only to shove them down and reveal all of him to her. “I just want to feel you. All of you. Right now.”

Emma heard him say something that sounded an awful lot like ‘bloody minx’ but she was too distracted from his ministrations to her body. He was everywhere all at once, his mouth, his hands, everything over took her senses. She’d give into a kiss, only to feel the rough but smooth texture of his fingers tracing down her body to where she wanted them most of all. He teased her ever so lightly, bringing her closer to the edge that she had already been wandering towards, but before she could fall he changed tactics, scattering her thoughts and sending shivers down her spine. She was wrapped up in Killian on all fronts, but it wasn’t enough. It was a tease of what she wanted, only a taste of what was coming, but then he thrust inside her, filling her up and making her see stars and feel totally complete.

She couldn’t say how long they lasted, but his pace was perfect and the rhythm was designed for bliss. She fell over the edge, but he held on, wringing her out a second time and then a third before finally giving over. But even after they were both spent and panting for breath, Killian never let up. He held her close, protecting and worshipping her at the same time, and making Emma feel like she was the most important thing in the whole wide world.

“God I love you, Emma. I love you more than words can ever say.”

“I love you too,” Emma whispered. “Thus the whole marrying you thing.”

“You should know I’ve used up pretty much all of my patience, love. I don’t think I can wait much longer to make you mine.”

“So we won’t wait,” Emma said easily, both surprising and delighting Killian with her agreement. “Well we have to wait a little bit. You have to win the cup first, and then we can talk about getting married. I think we can figure something out before next season starts.”

“If I win the cup, can we get married sooner?” Killian asked, sounding almost like an eager boy instead of a slow and measured man in that moment. His excitement was infectious and Emma pretended to consider before yielding.

“How soon are you talking?”

“One month?” Killian asked hopefully. “I’ll take care of everything, love. I know you’re busy with work and your friends and the like. But I’ll move mountains for this. You’ll see.”

“Okay. If you win the cup, you can pick the day. As long as my friends are all there, I’m good.”

“Oh, you’ll be better than good, love. I can guarantee you that.”

And for the rest of the night Killian showed Emma just how much better than good things would be from now on. Because now that they had each other, there was no stopping the happiness that would come. It was a given, just as their love would be for the next, oh, sixty years or so.

Post-Note: Ooh girl I gotta say it had been too long since I wrote a proposal for an AU and it was so fun to do that for this one! It’s also an interesting proposition because the chapter lengths are so short for this story, but I have to say I think it was the right dose of fluff (though I will let you guys be the judges of that). As I said before there is one more chapter left and it will be the wedding. I also imagine I will get around to a flash-forward epilogue, but as I said that’s going to take a long time to get to. Anyway, thanks so much to all of you for reading, commenting, reviewing, and sending me messages. You’re all awesome and I appreciate you more than I can say! Hope you have a great rest of your weekend!