#i’m pretty sure some of this is illegible but that quite accurately describes my thoughts on this

[lightning-chicken]

we’ve got less than a week to go until dr season 2 drops, and i thought i’d share my final (final!) theories:

[missskzbiased]

The Things We Don’t Tell

Summary: You were sure your life was written and directed to fit a sketchy Rom-Com and nobody could convince you otherwise. First, your boss was too hot to be true, and burning with desire didn’t even begin to explain the tingling sensations he left on you. Second, your coworker (a.k.a. Ex-About-to-be-FWB) insisted in turning your life into a living hell, which wasn’t the exact kind of hotness you were into. And if having these two hot men around you every single day of your life wasn’t enough to prove it, maybe the threat of your slutty secret identity about to be busted would be… But you couldn’t let this happen.

WC: 7,5 K

Genre: Smut, Humor (?)

AUs: Office, Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Bang Chan  

(Not really a love triangle as Hyunjin is the Lead. However, Reader wants to Bang Chan)

Rebloggable Masterlist    //   Main Masterlist   //   Tag List

Warnings: Language, Thigh riding, Public space (Office), Exhibitionism, Possessiveness, Pet Name (Baby girl), Sir Kink  

[If I forgot anything, please let me know! I’m kinda sleepy right now]

Notes: There will be at least one more chapter but I won’t do a tag list post for now, only if someone wants it, cuz I’m too lazy to think about doing it right now. This fic is an attempt to experiment with some writing style things that I’ve been wanting to try. I don’t think it worked, tho SUHAHUSAUHSUHA But that’s life

- I’ll quite possibly change the title in the future-

                                                            ///

  You are a superhero.

    Okay! To be honest, you may be exaggerating a little bit ─ a tiny harmless little bit ─ but that was how you felt every single day of your life, alright? You had this glorious and mysterious side of yours that you hid from everyone else in the world… That mask that you couldn’t let come to the ground and would fight for dear life to protect… That side to your persona that no one was allowed to meet… The fierce, bold, and dark aspects of your soul that—

    “Y/N! I want those papers on my table!”

    “Yes, sir!” You shrieked in an embarrassing (not even slightly bold) way.

    — That you couldn’t show at your work.

    Yeah… So maybe no one actually thought of you as a superhero, but you really believed someone should start to. Was there something that different between your life and those low-budget TV shows people seem to enjoy so much? You didn’t think so.

  To be fair, sometimes you felt like someone wrote a questionable script and poorly directed your life to fit you as the leading lady of a sketchy rom-com. As if they just focused on checking out every point on a bullet list made up with rules for a successful superhero office drama that wasn’t even that good…

    … And speaking of which…

    Rule Number One: The stern (maybe kinda attractive) boss!

    If you had to define Bang Chan with a couple of adjectives, you would choose undeniably beautiful ─ extremely professional of you because the right words to describe him were fucking hot ─ and committed. Fortunately, it wasn’t an “I have someone waiting for me at home and a bunch of kids I must put to sleep” kind of commitment, which would destroy your hopes of having this man one day. Unfortunately, it was an “I’m better than the header and gonna run this company by tomorrow night” kind of commitment, which destroys your hopes of a peaceful day at work.

    Now, it’s not like you don’t want to do your job! It’s just that you didn’t sign up to be Bang Chan’s perfect little toy ─ definitely not the better words to describe it ─ and you didn’t expect to be joined by the hips ─ really? ─ with him or any of your coworkers. The thing is that Bang Chan wants to be on top ─ someone has to stop you ─ and he believes the only way to get there is to work as a team and be as perfect as one can be. In other words, Bang Chan wants absolutely everything and everyone to be neat, tight, and ready to be used ─ again… Not the better way to put your thoughts into words ─, but this just wasn’t who you were.  

    It also wasn’t the point right now.

    The point right now should be the fact that Bang Chan was striding to his office looking like he owned the whole damn place… If this was a movie, the camera would be focusing on his expensive, black leather shoes before scanning all the way up to his waist in slow motion. The scene would zoom in on his fine ass only to go a little bit up and catch the shiny, black belt wrapping around his figure. The outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination, but you had a hell of a productive mind… You could think of a few things you shouldn’t really be thinking about right now.

    Bang Chan didn’t seem to understand he was at work either.

    He rolled his sleeve up in a sexy motion that should be illegal. It isn’t. You can tell by the way there are no cops bursting inside the building and arresting this gorgeous son of a bitch.

    The lack of any authorities to stop this atrocious moment had you lowering your gaze to your desk ─ a vain attempt to ignore the way his forearms flexed as he gestured and ordered people around. If you were a little bit less professional, you would have some ideas of how he could do it in bed. With you. But you weren’t some kind of creepy perv who would be fantasizing about riding your own boss from dusk till dawn.

    Not at all.

    “Do you need me, Sir?” His secretary asks politely.

  A question that you would love to ask him too… In a totally and strictly professional way, of course.

    Rule Number Two: The (extremely unnecessary) nemesis!

    The shiver running down your spine could mean only one thing: Hwang Hyunjin ─ your obnoxious coworker ─ was standing right behind you, just like a bloody damn ghost. There was no need to turn around. You knew he had his mocking eyes glued on Bang Chan’s figure, and you could feel the air shifting as he tilted his head in a silent sneer before leaning on your desk.

    You refused to turn around and acknowledge his presence; painfully aware that he would flash a wide grin while looking at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. You wouldn’t give him the taste of seeing in your face that he was right; that you were staring at your boss as if you were a starving vulture. So you did the only thing you could do in this situation: You started to work. The sheets scattered over your desk wouldn’t walk by themselves to Bang Chan’s room, right?

    And neither would you if it depended on Hyunjin.

    The attempts to swipe the papers in your direction and gather everything you needed ─ to finally get rid of Hyunjin ─ proved to be vain as his hand took root on the desk. You pursed your lips in annoyance while glancing at his prominent knuckles and slender fingers; wondering if he would be so collected if he knew you wanted to crunch them. Probably not. But he gets off so fucking much on upsetting you that he might just want to take the risk anyway.

    “What do you want, asshole?” You hissed; stopping your motions before turning around to stare blankly at him.

    The face of an angel was the most accurate way to describe the sight in front of you. Plump, pink lips molded into a sweet smile and dark brown eyes morphed into cute crescents. None of those features fit his true self, though. Underneath the angelic façade, there was a demon called Hwang Hyunjin ─ who was resting his free hand on your shoulder for no reason besides driving you crazy.

    It would be easier if he was just a pretty face, but Hyunjin had a good body too. The guy looked just like a model ─ slim, tall, and classy ─, and even though only his collarbones peeked out from down his shirt, you knew that there was much more than the eyes could see.

    Well, you never saw it, but you had felt it.

    As far as you could remember, each curve on Hyunjin’s abs was craft by God himself. The way his chest was built for you to caress would be forever craved on your mind. You might never forget how soft his lips were in contrast to his lap… How his thighs flexed just right when you pulled his hair… How reactive he was… How his moans sounded… And how he put everything to waste.

    “Oh, nothing” He shrugged. As usual, his voice was just like sweet, hot honey; still, you could wipe the poison dripping down his chin, “I was just wondering if you had enough time to do your job while fucking your boss inside your head” He clarified sarcastically, cracking you a smile.

    Sometimes you regretted not putting his mouth to good use… He really needed to learn how to shut up for a while and stop being so… Unbearable. The silence he met had him scoffing; body leaning even closer to the point his face was practically hovering over yours ─ smugness plastered all over it. You held his gaze to confront him; breathe mingling with his in a heated mix that matched the anger under your eyes.

    Was he licking his lips as he stared at yours? Oh boy… He definitely wanted to get laid. It was your time to scoff as the frown on your lips turned into a smirk; eyes twinkling mischievously as you looked into his in a silent teasing. As if sensing that he was in trouble, Hyunjin tilted his head to look even more obnoxious than he was; face coming closer to yours to defy your newfound confidence.

     “You know what? If you stared at him any longer, I think his balls might have fallen off…” He whispered in a tone loud enough for just you to hear “Unless he saw the way you were looking at him… Then I guess his dick would go straight up” He assured you with a ‘friendly’ pat on your shoulder as he finally let go of your papers and straightened his back.

    “Are you saying it from experience?” You sneered; grimacing at him.

    “Are you telling me that you want me to fuck you too?” He retorted gibingly; not even thinking twice about it.

    “No” You tilted your head, trying to stay composed, “I’m reminding you that you couldn’t even kiss me without getting a boner… Just like a teenage boy” He arched a brow at your statement; pursing his lips as he hummed in wonder “I’m surprised you never came in your pants like the pathetic thing you are” He laughed; poking his cheek with his tongue before squeezing your shoulder in a silent warning.

    “I must have been quite a sight if you can remember it so vividly” You pretended not to notice the way he sniggered, pushing away the urge to punch his face.

  Nemesis was just a classy way to call him a pain in the ass.

  Rule Number Three: The (plain and uninteresting) secret identity!

  It would be impossible to miss the moment Hyunjin’s devilish smirk morphed into a bright, friendly smile. The snarky comment on the tip of your tongue was swallowed back in a bit; grimace dissolving into a wide grin as if you weren’t about to throw your fists at him. He giggled as his arms spread open before snaking around your body to pull you into a tight hug; holding you close and rocking your body side to side as a soft huff fell from your lips.

    If you didn’t know any better, your knee would be buried between his legs.

  “Way to go, Y/N!” He chirped, loosening his grip to take a better look at your face; eyes smiling as if the both of you were the bestest of friends in the entire world, “You’re awesome! I’m so proud… I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you as my teammate” He pursed his lips; dimples showing as he offered you nothing but affection in his gaze.

    You did know better, though, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out who was standing behind your back as you opened your mouth to answer him: “There’s no one I’d rather be with!” You reassured Hyunjin in a sweet, mirthful tone; tilting your head to return the fondness in his look in an act worthy of an Oscar “We’re a team, you know? You can’t get rid of me so easily” He laughed wholeheartedly at that; ruffling your hair before leaning closer to you again, resuming the hug.

    “We’ll see about that” He whispered in your ear, making you scoff.

    “What are you gonna do? Cry to Daddy so you won’t work with me anymore?” You hissed back; breaking away from his hug with a tight grin before turning around to meet Chan’s gaze.

    The surprise plastered over your face was millimetrically calculated; just like the way you pretended to be flustered as you stared into your boss’ eyes to see the pride shining on them. You brought the papers closer to your chest in what was meant to be an innocent, coy way ─ a technique mastered over the months you worked for him ─, and Chan seemed to fall for it as he giggled in delight. The poor guy had no clue all of this was as fake as your camaraderie towards Hyunjin, and he wasn’t about to discover it anytime soon if it depended on you.

    Luckily, it did! You had taken some acting classes; just enough for your next words to be naturally convincing: “I’m so sorry, Sir! We’re just so happy that –” The words were deliberately drawled to give him enough time to interrupt you. Just like you knew he would. And it was a good thing that he did because you had no idea of how you were supposed to finish that sentence anyway.

    You were a good actress, not a professional improviser.

    “Don’t mention it” He cut you off giggly; detaching himself from the doorframe he leaned on as he watched the friendly scene taking place.

    The amount of cuteness this man could deliver in his smile wasn’t fair, and it didn’t match the sensuality a simple gesture of his overflowed with, enchanting you. You gulped down as he gave both of you a silent order to follow him into his room, wondering if the duality he had in the office was remotely similar to what he could do in bed ─ a thought that shouldn’t be having a place in your mind right now.

    Hyunjin seemed to pick up on it pretty quickly too, and as soon as Chan turned around to head to his office, he bumped his shoulder onto yours. The obnoxious action was followed by your elbow diving into his ribs; a retaliation that took you less than a second and, luckily, Chan ─ or any of your coworkers ─ didn’t seem to notice. Neither of you gave away your silent quarrel as Hyunjin closed the door behind him, smiling at you when Chan finally took his seat.

     “It’s good to see that you guys have such chemistry” He confessed, and you had to suppress a scoff when you looked into his eyes. He had no idea… The chemistry between you two was enough to make you want to blow each other, “You know what I always say, right?” He boasted on a sing-song; much more at ease than he seemed to be earlier.

    You weren’t about to put that on the line, though.

    “You can’t have teamwork if you don’t have a team!” You warbled in unison.

    “That’s the spirit!” Chan gurgled, heading to his desk in a visibly good mood.

    What was going on? He wouldn’t be so happy just because you and Hyunjin were being friendly… Were you missing something? He didn’t seem in such a peaceful state of mind when he came in… It had to be something that happened after that. Perhaps he got some good news from his secretary? Or maybe… You narrowed your eyes as you caught a glimpse of Hyunjin’s hands fidgeting in front of him; his foot tapping the ground rapidly but quietly before moving slightly to step on your toe.

     Or maybe Hyunjin had something to do with it…

    “As I said in the email, Sir, I happened to hear some stuff around and… KQ managed to get an exclusive with Han Jisung” The sentence sounded just like a normal introduction to a report, but you knew it wasn’t. Hyunjin’s eyes darted to meet yours, glinting with anxiety and despair. He was informing you of what was going on, not Chan, “And as we all know, Jisung is a rising producer star, which is bound to raise their sales and might get in the way of ours…” He continued, swallowing dryly and widening his eyes ever so slightly.

    He was definitely trying to warn you of something.

    “Yes, I read the e-mail, Hyunjin” Chan agreed sternly; smile disappearing as his fingers intertwined to serve as a support for his chin. He looked classy and incredibly sexy, but your mind couldn’t afford to focus on it right now. You had to figure out what the hell Hyunjin suggested to Chan before blowing everything up, “You also said that Y/N might have the solution for this…” Oh, so that was it, you thought when Chan arched his brow; eyes connecting to yours.

    And now what?

    “So?” He encouraged you, detaching his chin from his hands so he could rest them on his desk “I’m waiting” He smiled gently; a closed-mouth smile that was supposed to calm your nerves, even though you could see how tumultuous his gaze was right now.

    It was practically a silent threat.

    In a normal situation, the predatory way he was looking at you ─ resembling a wolf when you were nothing but a sheep under his radar ─ would get you… Thinking.

    Your job wouldn’t be at stake in a normal situation, though.

    The pressure on your toes increased; the subtle way Hyunjin found to snap you out of your mind, despite your silence hanging in there for just a few seconds. It was obvious that he was freaking out just as much as you were, and you couldn’t help but blame him for this. Couldn’t he have told you about it earlier? What the hell was going on inside his mind?! Instead of taunting you about wanting to fuck Bang Chan, he should have warned you about that shit!

    That’s not the time for this, Y/N.

    The muscles on your face tensed as you tried to not give away everything going through your mind; lips twisting in a tight smile as you looked at Hyunjin: “Yeah, he was right” You answered calmly, even though your stomach was settled on becoming an Olympic athlete right now, “As I was telling him before coming here, Sir, I have someone in mind…” The relief washed over Hyunjin’s face; a genuine smile adorning his features as he withheld a sigh, “I happen to know I.N, and I think I can get us an exclusive” You confessed, shifting your gaze from Hyunjin to Chan.

    “The writer?” He blurted out, astonishment plastered all over his face.

    “Yeah… They’re a friend of mine…” You trailed off, embarrassed to say it out loud “They’re in the top trending now since their novel will become a drama and…” You cleared your throat, lowering your head to avoid his gaze. There was just so much of acting you could handle for a day, “I mean- It’s… Adult stuff, right? But they never—”

    “I know! That’s perfect!” He beamed, getting up from his chair to walk your way “They’ve never been seen! Nobody knows anything about them, Y/N” He laughed ─ he genuinely laughed ─ while clasping his hands together “Han Jisung is good, but I.N is better! This is hot news… FrontPage… How come you never told me about that?” He chuckled, placing his hand on your shoulder “Rest assured that when I get my promotion, I’m gonna have you right here in this room” He promised you in such a serious tone that a shiver ran down your spine.

    Rule Number Four: The (kinda horny) true self!

    There was not a single soul in the office as you made your way down the hall; eyes focused on the mesmerizing view outside. The sky was colored in purple shades, so deep that you would have mistaken them for black if it weren’t for the dazzling, sleepless city and its dozens of skyscrapers lighting everything up. Not even the full moon would be able to compete with such a beautiful brilliance, but it wouldn’t be necessary either as your gaze was abruptly torn away from the night.

    The darkness surrounding you didn’t allow your brain to connect the dots immediately, and you couldn’t help but wonder what happened when you bumped into something. The surface was much softer than a wall, yet firm enough to have you wincing for the impact; eyes snapping to meet the unlucky bastard that stayed until so late. The moonlight kissed his skin just enough for you to recognize the sharp features of your boss; clenched jaw revealing popping veins that distracted you for a fraction of a second.

     Your eyes trailed the path from his jaw to his neck, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it tasted like; if you could savor it like the sins you wanted to commit with him. The closeness didn’t work in your favor, and the hint of his scent intoxicated your senses as you connected your gazes. Something must have given you off ─ maybe your hesitation, maybe the lust glinting in your eyes ─ because the next second, Cristopher had his hand placed on your lower back.

   The warm sensation grew to a burning feeling as his eyes darkened while diving into yours; his stern, cold gaze contrasting to the feeling of his touch and sending a shiver down your spine. Could he have noticed the way your legs trembled as his grip tightened around you? The look on his face was indecipherable, and the intensity of his gaze made you feel too exposed and vulnerable to keep looking for an answer, so you averted your eyes away from him.

    “Weren’t you supposed to come as soon as you got his answer?” The way his voice made its way to your senses had the embarrassment washing over you. The huskiness in his tone made you gulp down ─ throat dry from thirsting over him ─ and the calmness in his sentence alarmed you as it didn’t match the disapproval in his eyes “It’s so late that there is no one else here anymore” He added nonchalantly; mixed signals getting you confused to what he meant by it.

    Was it just a way to scold you or was it an invitation?

    “I’m sorry, Sir” Despite not having anyone around, you whispered the words as if you could be caught at any moment now, “It took me longer than expected, but we—”

    “We?” His eyes were sharp enough to cut you off but the real reason why you couldn’t manage to finish your thoughts was the way he pulled your body impossibly closer to his “Were you with him this whole time?” He hissed right into your ear, letting his hot breath fan over your cold, sensitive skin in a silent threat.

    “Working” You corrected, even though he didn’t say anything.

    “Working” He hummed in agreement; hand going to tuck your hair behind your ear “As in how we work late at night?” He sneered, manhandling you to press your back against the cold surface of the glass wall that separated his office from the rest of the place “Or is it as in how he wants to work you on his desk?” He scoffed; soft huff almost as degrading as the way he held your cheeks with one hand and guided your eyes to his.

    “Neither” You guaranteed breathlessly; voice quivering in excitement.

    “Are you going to pretend that you didn’t notice his looks?” He narrowed his eyes at you; his knee making its way to the gap between yours before slowly rising to your thighs, “That you don’t know how much he wants to fuck you?” He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “You better not, ‘cause I know you love it” He warned as he kicked your legs apart.

    “He could never fuck me as you do” There was such seriousness in your tone that it had him chuckling, and he nodded in approval before burying his nose in your neck, “I-I’m yours only, Sir… I know my place” You promised quietly, trying not to give away how aroused his jealousy made you feel.

    “Yeah…” His raspy laughter tickled your skin, and you muffled a whine as he grazed his teeth over your neck teasingly “But you like being reminded of it, don’t you?” He taunted, taking in your scent in a way that made you feel too small and helpless. He groaned as soon as you let a whimper fall from your lips, and you couldn’t help but struggle to stay still while knowing what was about to come, “Do I have to spell it for you, baby girl?” He snickered before sucking on the tender spot of your skin that he knew too well at this point.

    “N-No” Somewhere inside your head, you acknowledged that your reaction was insanely humiliating. He just needed a couple of words spoken in a sultry tone and you couldn’t even form a proper sentence. That was the power he had on you. And you loved it. “Only yours” The rushed tone made him smirk against your neck, stopping his path of kisses for a second to look into your eyes “Sir” You panted; returning his gaze with just as much intensity as he had on his.

    “Claim your place” His order was so tantalizing that you didn’t even blink before you finally let your knees give away, losing the support of your legs to earn the support of his thigh, “That’s right… You do remember your place” Somehow, this sounded like the best praise he could ever offer you, even under his amused tone, “But you have been such a bad girl lately…” He pouted as he caressed your cheek; hand stopping to grab your chin gently “And I don’t like bad girls… You know that, right?” He let his thumb reach for your lower lip, fiercely staring at it before grazing his finger on your teeth.

    Your answer was as silent as his request; tongue welcoming his thumb before you sucked on his digit. He hummed in appreciation, pushing it inside your mouth as you looked at him with big doe eyes to show a coyness that wasn’t really there within you. The action was followed by a swirl around the tip of his finger; as if to leave in his mouth the taste of what he was missing and prompt him to give you what you really wanted: Him.

    If he picked up on your plans, he showed it by giving like for like.

   He didn’t say a word as he pressed his thigh against your heat; leaning closer to let his breath fan over your neck once more. He stood like that for what could have been seconds, maybe minutes, but nonetheless time enough for his warmth to creep into your senses. He was like a poison to you; the intoxicating presence clouding your better judgment and destroying any will you had to have him losing control. You didn’t even mind the way he scoffed as you started to grind his leg; brows twisting to shout out a needy plea for release.

    “That’s a good girl” He approved, catching your earlobe between his teeth. The moan that fell from your lips was muffled by his finger and he didn’t seem to appreciate it, “I don’t hear you, baby girl” He complained, moving on to your jaw with a path of open-mouthed kisses that weren’t enough to distract you from his other hand “There’s no one here… Be loud for me” He allured you as his hand found its way under your shirt.

      The temptation was great… Scream his name as he fucked you senseless in the office... No risk of being caught… Just you, and him, and your dirty little secret…

    Your thoughts were all around the place, and you had no hopes of grasping them back as his cold hand brushed your side, contrasting to the warmth under your clothes. The way he touched you made shivers run down your spine; his slow, delicate motion enhancing your senses to every single second of his caresses. You held your breath when his finger finally managed to reach its destination; grazing over your nipple to have you succumbing to his wishes.

    You fought it as you could, but you were never much of a fighter.

    It was too easy for him to have you under his control, and he knew it. You could tell it by the way he chuckled as soon as you gave away how lost you were at this point. The moan that left your lips came all the way up from your chest, sounding crystal clear in the room as you let your mouth fall agape. Sucking on his finger and following his orders were the last concern you would have for this moment. The only thing worthy of your attention right now was the fact that you couldn’t get as much friction as you needed, and you had to do something about it.

    So you grind on his leg for dear life.

    “You’re so needy” The mockery didn’t have much effect on your mind anymore, so you just kept sliding up and down his thigh as if that was the only thing that could keep you going “You’re not even listening to me, are you?” He huffed in disbelief; thumb leaving your mouth so he could cup your face “That’s all you can understand, right?” He taunted, pinching your nipple to get your attention again, “Are you still there, baby girl?” He leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

      “F-Fuck me” Was the only answer he would get.

      “Manners” He warned; licking the sweet spot next to your jaw.

      “Fuck me, Sir” You corrected yourself; wrapping your arms around his shoulders to look for some support as you practically bounced on his leg, “Please, fuck me, Sir” You repeated, forehead resting on the crook of his neck as you clawed his back, trying to bring him as close as possible to you.

      “Louder” He demanded, and you didn’t need to look at his face to know that he was grinning, “Louder…” He instructed in a tone so low that you could barely hear him over the rustling sounds of fabric against fabric. Your breath hitched as his hand gently caressed your hair; moving some strands away from your face to take a better look at you. However, he didn’t get to see your teary eyes, “Come on, baby… Look at me” He asked in a tantalizing tone, alluring you to try and meet his gaze.

    There wasn’t much you could see through your hooded eyes; vision too blurry for you to grasp what was going on inside his mind. You could tell he enjoyed it, though. He always did. That moment when he could pinpoint you had given up on your control, that you weren’t yourself anymore and would be willing to do whatever he asked… He lived for it, for that rebellious flame of self-control extinguishing from your eyes.

     For who you become when lust overcomes you.        

    The grip on his hair wasn’t unexpected, and Cristopher offered you a small, wicked smile before you connected your lips. The kiss was messy and hurried; tongues exploring every corner they could find while your hands were occupied on getting rid of your clothes. Neither of you cared about anything else but feeling each other’s bodies as you ripped your shirts. The cold breeze hitting your bare skin wasn’t enough to cool down the heat consuming you, but it was enough to have you squirming and whining.

      “Beautiful” Was the only thing he said before pushing your back against the glass and adjusting his grip to take your nipple between his teeth. The groan that escaped your lips was almost animalistic, prompting him to answer with a grunt of his own as he sucked on your skin. The vibrations ran from your flesh to your core, enticing another moan that seemed to fall into deaf ears, “Louder, baby… I want him to hear you…” He pleaded, letting go of your breast just to grope it and give you a kitten lick on the next second “To know who made you like this…” He added before sucking on it again.

    Perhaps it was the fact that he thrust on you, just to tease your senses and make you thirstier. Perhaps it was the fact you had to support yourself on just one leg as he pushed his hips against yours and you tried to seek for your balance by involving his leg with yours. Perhaps it was his hand sliding to meet your clothed core; finger pressing against your clit to add a delicious, needed stimulus for your orgasm.

    Perhaps it was the words that slipped through his lips.

    “W-What did you say?” You panted; hips faltering as you tried to keep riding him, but steading their pace as his finger circled your clit to goad you “M-Mhm… S-Sir” You cried; hand burying in his hair to pull it and translate the utter bliss waving down your body. The string of mewls and urgent pleas spilled from you like a chant, getting him more eager than before, “P-Please” You whined, even though you weren’t sure what you were asking for.

      “Hold it” He ordered; straightening his back to look right into your eyes, but failing as yours rolled back to your head. His hand made its way to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to look at him with a soft shake to catch your attention “Look at me” It sounded like a warning; stern enough for you to try your best to focus on him, “You’ll only cum when he walks right through that door… Do you understand?” He searched for any signs of stubbornness in your eyes, but his smile showed he didn’t found any.

    “W-Who?” You managed to ask; body trembling as you tried to hold every single string inside your mind in place, even though each one of them was ready to snap and unravel the crashing pleasure that was building up.

    “Why does it matter?” He scoffed, quickening his pace as the unmistakable ring of the elevator sounded on the room “You love being seen, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching as your body shook violently and your knees started to give away to the sensations running down your body.

      “Y-Yes, Sir” You could bet your voice echoed inside the building, and Christopher seemed to agree with you as he grinned in approval.

    “So look at your guest, baby… And scream my name” He instructed, pushing your face to the side. The doors opened slowly, revealing the lights inside the small cubicle right in front of your eyes “Let him know who you belong to” He whispered in your ear; hand pushing your underwear aside so his finger could come in contact with your core.

    The mysterious figure detached from the corners of the metallic walls to finally reveal himself. You met his eyes for a half of a second; enough time for you to recognize the one who worked with you every single day of your life. For the past few years. Someone who would be your partner for years to come, and who would witness and engrave your face in your most vulnerable moment.

    You came hard; probably the most overwhelming orgasm you had ever had in your life. It was impossible to hold back your voice, and you couldn’t help but howl his name; legs shaking and body collapsing into your boss’ arms. You squirmed and whimpered as you tried to recompose yourself; letting him help you ride you out of your orgasm and occupying yourself by staring into your coworker’s shocked eyes.

    “Thank you, Sir…” You breathed out, gripping his arms for dear life while the shame sank into your soul.

    Rule Number Five: The (grateful and satisfied) fans!

    And… Post.

    Oh, well… You did it. Again. There was something about displaying your deepest fantasies for anyone to see that was kinda thrilling to you. Your heart raced inside your chest just like a drum ─ well, if a goddamn drummer decided to do a solo but was too offbeat, to begin with ─ and you couldn’t help but stare blankly at the page without a clue of what to do now. It was out there… Why didn’t anyone say anything yet? Was it that bad? Should you delete it?

    Well… People have to read it before commenting, you know?

    Yeah, right… You just posted it.

    Chill.

    You licked your lips before biting them; feeling the rush that was posting about your boss online when no one else knew about it. If you were being honest, the best part of this wasn’t having the chance to live your fantasies throughout your writing. No. The best part was knowing that only you knew the true identity of Christopher… Or what you really wanted to do to him while he walked down the hallway. The best part was that no one would ever figure out that you were the author of the bestselling novel of the moment… That this steamy romance between boss and employee was nothing but your rawest desire.

     Who would think that the boring, shy girl from the office would be a smut writer? Who would think that you would have a horny, interesting secret identity? No one else but you.

      And this was priceless.

     Or maybe… It was priceless.

    As far as you knew, every single thing you cherished about being a secretive horny bitch could go down the drain tomorrow. It would be all fine if it was just a… Well, actually everything would suck. How would you look at Chan’s face if he knew you were writing about having sex with your boss while he was your boss? What would you do if they decided to fire you because of it? What would you do with your life from now on?!

     Don’t panic, Y/N.

    You had everything under control… Tomorrow morning you would be going to Jeongin’s house and interview him as if he were you. No one would ever suspect you after that. You would save your ass, Hyunjin’s ass, and Chan’s ass. And that was it. The perfect plan. Nothing to worry about. Just trust Jeongin to follow your script and make sure everything would go as planned.

    Flawless. Totally safe. Perfect.

    That’s right…

    You just need to take a deep breath and rela—

    The sudden sound caught you off guard; eyes focusing on the screen once again so you could understand what was going on. All of your worries vanished away as soon as you saw the notification on the top of it; announcing that you had just got a message from a fan.

     Finally!    

    The weasel icon was so familiar that you chuckled while opening the message; a smile plastering over your face as you let your eyes wander around the words. There was nothing more fulfilling to your writer ass than seeing the way Weasel always had something to say about your story. Sometimes, he’d give you some feedback on your style. Other times, he’d freak out about how much he wanted to “try those things out”, as he usually said. There were also times when he’d just get excited over the characters and their conflicts, which always got you laughing.

    It was fun to talk to Weasel.

    He was just as mysterious as you… There was no name to his face, and also no face to his icon, but both of you were friends anyway. He had been keeping up with your stuff from such an early stage that it felt natural to have him around and getting his feedback. It was so comfortable, that you didn’t even mind when he slid in your DMs, embarrassed to let anyone else know that your smut made him… Feel things. There was no need to elaborate on what he did about those feelings or those things. But it was kinda hot to know he enjoyed himself throughout your fantasies.

      His fantasies.

    Well… For the number of times that you used them to write your stories, it was some sort of shared fantasies by now. As a matter of fact, you never intended to make Christopher a jealous character but Weasel made the idea seem too hot for you to ignore. Sometimes, he’d open up about that girl from his work that he really liked and how jealous he was of the guy she liked and then… Well, it felt… Interesting.

    The thought of being desirable to the point a guy would want to claim you as his like this? Not that Weasel did it. He actually just mentioned that he hoped she was into this as a kink. You couldn’t help but picture the way he would touch her in such a greedy way… The possessiveness blinding him for a second… The grip tightening… The mean words and the humiliation… Oh, the sweet humiliation that would crush you as he whispered how much you would cum for him… How he was the only one who could make you like that… How he would ask you to say his name… To tell him that you were his…

    You could drink holy water and still be shaking just by picturing it.

    “That was such a good chapter… I didn’t expect you to use her friend like that. I thought it was a given that she’d end up with Chris” You read out loud, chuckling when he reached for your DMs to talk to you “Will we get a threesome or something, miss? 😏” He joked on the next line and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at this “I’m waiting for it”

    “You’re just a horny bitch, aren’t you?” You typed, smirking as you stared at his messages “No spoilers for you, though, baby boy… You’ll have to wait like everybody else” Teasing him was always funny, and he never failed to amuse you.

      “I’m not the one writing porn online” He pointed out, and before he could write anything else you shot him.

    “Yeah but you’re the one getting off to it” You retorted, getting a whole set of gasping and shocked emotes that had you laughing.

    “I have no words to express how offended I am” You chortled, shaking your head in disbelief.

     “Alright, Drama Llama” Why was it so fun to mock him? You wished you could actually meet him offline and banter like this in real life “To fill your horny ass, I might write a dom!reader next time… I was thinking about torturing the 2nd lead a bit”

    “First of all… I don’t think I want my ass filled, thank you for offering tho” Why was he like this? “And I was just joking” You frowned at that, confused by what he meant “Don’t you think that a threesome doesn’t go along with the characters? Her friend likes her a lot and Christopher is just a kinky son of a bitch… I thought he’d just show him that she was his and be an ass as usual”

    “What do you have against Chris, dude?” You rolled your eyes, although he wouldn’t be able to see it, “He’s way better than her friend! At least, he does something about her”

    “I have the 2nd male lead syndrome! You know that!” You chortled, very aware of this, “And isn’t that the perfect opportunity for him to do something about it?! I mean… I don’t want to be nosey but having a threesome is way out of character for them” He pointed out, and you had to admit he was right.

    “No, you’re not nosey…” You sighed; shoulders dropping for a second “It’s just that I’m upset about something that happened at work today and you know that projecting my problems on those characters is my thing” You pursed your lips, staring at the keyboard for a few seconds before deciding to continue “Besides, I’m about to spend an entire day with a guy that kinda inspired the 2nd lead and… I don’t really want to think about a sex scene with him, you know?” You confessed.

    “But thinking about torturing and having a threesome with him is easy” He mocked you.

      “That’s because that threesome would never happen” You sent it before you could think about what you had just written.

    “Ooohhhh!” Holy shit… The amount of emotes he had just dumped on that chat couldn’t be a good sign, “So having sex with this guy is something you want?! And that could happen?! ” Great, now you would have a Drama Llama-Weasel trying to get some juicy gossip about your inexistent sex life… WORSE! Your sex life with your nemesis! “Why don’t you go for it? I’m sure he’s into you if he’s anything like his character” Poor thing… He had no idea.

    “Shut up, it’s not like that��� You brushed it off.

    “If you say so” You could almost hear him snickering, even though you didn’t know how his voice sounded like “I’ll just have you regretting this for the rest of the night” You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief. He was unbearable! “I have work early tomorrow but I’m gonna come back with questions, Miss… Wait for me”

    “What I meant is that it’d be easier to happen than having a threesome, not that I want it to happen, moron” You defended yourself but he didn’t even get to read it as he logged off right away.

      Great… He would never let you live it down.

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Rebloggable Masterlist    //   Main Masterlist   //   Tag List

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[evilrubberducke]

Strangers in a Strange Land- Chapter 5- Miasma

Art by the lovely @wolfy1298​!

After Quite a while, chapter 5 is up! Sorry it took so long, but I hope the chapter length makes up for it a little.

In this chapter, a celebration is had, a new area is explored, and a careless action has consequences

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20280019/chapters/54112678

Read it on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13365894/5/Strangers-in-a-Strange-Land

Teaser under cut.

"Everything looks good," the medic said, making a final note on the form she was filling out before handing it to Izuku, "Congratulations, Mr. Midoriya. You're cleared for active duty."

Izuku let out a sigh of relief while Mina cheered loudly. He'd been feeling perfectly fine for nearly a week now, but it was nice to finally have official confirmation.

"Yes, yes, We're all very excited," the medic said dryly. "Now, how about you two get going and stop disturbing the other patients?"

"Sorry!" Mina chirped, with a smile on her face that said she was anything but, "C'mon Izuku! Let's bounce!"

She grabbed his arm and practically dragged him out of the medical ward, to the great amusement of the rest of the patients. The laughter that followed the pair out of the building caused Izuku to flush with embarrassment. Well, that and the fact that he was hyper aware of the way Mina was gripping his hand.

The revelation that he had fallen for Mina had made things much more difficult for Izuku. So many interactions seemed to take on a different tone now, from their simple daily chats to their sleeping arrangements.

During his convalescence, Mina had taken to sleeping at the foot of his bed, next to or sometimes even on top of his feet. At first Izuku had thought little of the gesture. Mina had been shaken by the encounter with the Kirin and felt guilty for leading them into the fight. As time had passed, however, and she made no move to return to her own bed Izuku had become more and more aware of her presence every night. She might be stuck in a feline body, but he couldn't ignore the fact that he was spending every night in bed with a girl, or the fact that her original form had been quite pretty.

"So," Mina said, jolting him from his thoughts, "What do you wanna do first? There's a big battle going down in the arena between some A-listers and a pair of Paolumu, so we could go watch that, or we could go fishing again. I heard someone spotted a platinum fish by the docks the other day. Or we could do something else. I'm open to ideas!"

"Mina, we should probably report to the Commander first. He should know that I'm back to full health."

"Fiiiiiiine," Mina sighed, "you're right. But then we're gonna do something fun and not work related to celebrate!"

"Sounds good," Izuku said with a small smile.

"Hey you two!" the Field Team Leader called, waving them up to the command section of the Tradeyard, "What mischief are you up to today?"

"Actually, we came to see you and the Commander," Izuku replied, "I was just cleared for active duty, so we came to let you know."

"Excellent news!" the Commander said, looking up from the stack of papers he was perusing "Tell me, are you up for exploring a new area?"

Izuku and MIna didn't even have to look at each other to confirm. They both nodded in perfect synchronization.

"Perfect," the Commander said. "Now, while you've been recuperating, our best technicians have been working hard to transform the Third Fleet's Research Base into an aerial research platform, a task that was completed several days ago. Finally, the area beneath the Coral Highlands is open for exploration."

"Ooooh!" Mina said, "What's it like? Is it as pretty as the Highlands?"

"Not quite," he replied with a chuckle, "The first reports describe it as an area dominated by decay and effluvium, earning it the tentative title of 'The Rotten Vale'"

"Oh come on!" Mina cried, throwing her paws up in dismay, "Why does this place have to keep jerking me around? We get one nice place to explore, and then it's back to the pits!"

"The pits is actually a fairly accurate description," the Field Team Leader cut in before she could continue her rant. "We know the Vale runs deep; we're just not sure how deep. The effluvium gets thicker as you go down, and our scouts are having a tough time dealing with it. Apparently it can sap your energy pretty quickly, and our standard issue masks aren't doing much to combat it. The second fleet is working on improvements, but it might take a while."

"And we can't afford a delay like that if we hope to pick up Zorah Magdaros's trail in time to reach it," the Commander said. "Which is why we're sending our best hunters to search for a way through or around the effluvium. If the two of you are willing, you can leave at first light for the Research Base, and travel with them to the Vale."

Izuku frowned. "Sir, if you're sending your best hunters, won't we just get in their way?"

A rare smile touched the Commander's lips while the Field Team Leader laughed openly, slapping his knee in amusement. Before Izuku could ask what was so funny, a furry elbow lodged itself in his stomach, causing him to fold in on himself in pain.

"He means us, you humble idiot!" Mina hissed.

Izuku flushed with embarrassment, both from his mistake and from the high praise. "S-sir... we, er, I don't—"

The Commander held up a hand to forestall Izuku's objections. "Let me stop you right there Mr. Midoriya. I've had reports from the ecological research team, the resource center, the Lynian Researcher, and the Chef, all of which were practically glowing and demanded that the two of you be assigned to their division on a permanent basis. You've earned every bit of praise and then some, believe me."

Izuku swallowed, pushing down his embarrassment as best he could. He wasn't entirely successful, and he could still feel his cheeks burning, but he at least managed to squeak out a response.

"Thank you, sir."

"You're most welcome. But both myself and the rest of the division leaders agree that mere praise isn't enough. Thankfully, the perfect opportunity to reward your hard work has presented itself. As you may be aware, the Fifth Fleet ended up being quite a bit larger than we expected, which has left us short on housing space, and the barracks rather packed. Recently, though, a private room in one of the more established districts of Astera has opened up, and we've agreed that you should be the ones to take it over. So, what do you say?"

"We'll take it!" Mina said, before Izuku could politely decline. He shot her a questioning look, and she shrugged. "What? I'm tired of people keeping me up with their snoring. I never thought I'd miss the UA dorms this much, but honestly I'd fight a pissed off Anjanath to have a private room again at this point."

"Uh, Mina, I'm pretty sure you'll still be sharing it with me," Izuku said, glancing to the Field Team Leader who nodded in confirmation.

"Well, yeah, but that's different," Mina said, turning slightly away from him. "You're much better company."

Now it was Izuku's turn to look away as he tried to hide the blush that was rising in his cheeks. He turned his gaze back to the Field Team Leader, who was grinning and wiggling his eyebrows, and the Commander, who looked pensive.

The look disappeared a moment later, though, and a small smile crossed the Commander's lips. "I suppose congratulations are in order, then." he slid a key across the table to Izuku, who pocketed it. "Take the rest of the day to get settled in your new room and to prepare for departure. A wingdrake will be ready to take you to the Research Base at dawn."

Next to Izuku, Mina shuddered involuntarily at the mention of the upcoming wingdrake ride, but didn't say anything. Even though Mina had accepted the necessity of wingdrake transport as the scope of the Commission's activities expanded, she had never gotten comfortable with them. She still shut her eyes during the rides and sank her claws into his leg for safety, despite the flights being relatively smooth.

"We'll be ready sir," Izuku said, snapping off a quick salute, with Mina following suit a second later.

"Glad to hear it," the Commander said, returning the salute.

With that, Izuku and Mina took their leave, heading off to take a look at their new abode.

"Is everything all right, grandfather?" the Field Team Leader asked, once the two hunters had departed, "You seemed a bit distracted just now."

The Commander sighed heavily and leaned on the table. "Apologies. My current projects have taken more of a toll on me than I expected."

The Field Team Leader nodded sympathetically "You could always let the division leaders handle more of the paperwork. It would lighten the load on you significantly."

The Commander shook his head. "They have enough work with their regular duties. I won't add to their burdens unnecessarily. Besides, with a bit of luck, my workload may just be lightening a bit in the next few days."

"Does this have anything to do with your secret investigation?" the Field Team Leader asked.

"Indeed," the Commander replied, picking up the top sheet from the pile he'd been looking over before Izuku and Mina had arrived. "I'll need to wait for the Captain to return from the guild in order to confirm some things, but I believe I've made a breakthrough just now."

"Now that's interesting. Any chance you feel like reading me in?"

"Not just yet. For something like this, I would rather have all the cards I can get before showing my hand. In the meantime though, let's get back to work on the supply lines to the Research Base," the Commander said, setting the paper back on the stack, which he pushed to the side.

The paper had yellowed slightly with age, and part of it had become illegible with water damage sustained on the voyage across the sea, but most of it could still be made out. It was filled with name after name, a list of hunters who had signed up for the expedition to the New World. The names on the list, however, were not what the Commander had been so interested in.

He was far more interested in the two names that were conspicuously absent.

Read the rest on AO3 or FF.Net! Links available on my blog if this post breaks them again.

[luki-fanfic]

KHR/BNHA Fanfic: OOTW Addition

Here’s the very first snippet I wrote when I was thinking of my BNHA/KHR crossover, back when my plan was a much more straight line ‘follow KHR into another world plot’.  Not adding to AO3 just yet because it’s in KHR pov, and technically happens before the first chapter.  Thinking I might add KHR pov to a seperate fanfic to make it less confusing once I’m done with the BNHA pov.

Quirk Registration

“All right, no more putting it off” Tsuyoshi warns, dumping the forms on the table.  “Quirk registry.  It’s going in tomorrow, so you figure out whatever lie will cover the majority of what you do.”

There’s a collective groan as the teens pass out the papers, while Kyoko and Fuuta give them sheepish looks.  With no active flames Kyoko is quite comfortably listed as Quirkless, while Fuuta had happily scribbled down ‘Ranking’ the day they’d learned about Quirk Registration.

In theory, it should be easy.  Just write down their flame’s attribute and move on.  Except…

“Most quirks seem to be fairly basic” Tsuyoshi warns.  “And your quirk name should describe it’s primary use.  While you hide everything else.”

He’s directing this mostly at Tsuna and Gokudera.  Gokudera, who, armed with five flames, is likely to raise every red flag in the country if he tries to list them all, and Tsuna, because while ‘harmonisation’ might manage to cover his hyper intuition in addition to his little-used ability to convert matter, his tendency to set himself on fire or encase things in impenetrable ice would probably be stretching it.

“I could just write down Hyper Intuition” Tsuna offers.  “It’s not like I’m ever planning to use Dying Will Mode again.”

Kyoko gave a small chuckle.

“True, but given our luck, you’re probably going to have to use it at some point.”

Fuuta was already writing down the statistical likelihood, and Tsuna’s head thumped on the table.

“I’ll just write down disintegration” Gokudera offers, filling out the paper.  “It’s not like I had time to master them all, I really need the Systema C.A.I to use the other ones.”

“That’s handy” Yamamoto laughs.  “Wish I could do that, but I think ‘Tranquillity’ is a little too vague to pass the registration.”

“How about ‘Tranquil Aura?” Fuuta replies, and Yamamoto brightens, while in the corner, Ryohei furiously scratches his scalp as Kyoko looks over his forms.

“I extremely don’t understand why I can’t just write Activation” he says, not for the first time.

“It’s not that you can’t big brother” Kyoko offers.  “I just want to make sure there’s not an...I don’t know, more obvious term for it.  You have better reflexes because of your flames, but you can also heal.”

“Honestly I’d just go with Activation” Tsuyoshi offers, pulling the top off a bottle and taking a long swig.  It’s been a long, illegal day, even for them.  “It’s pretty accurate without going into details.  What about you Chrome?  Any trouble?”

The girl jerks her head up from the paper with a blush.  “Huh?  Oh, no.  I didn’t just want to put ‘Construction, so-”

She lifts it up to reveal the phrase ‘Illusional Construction’ in the Quirk box.

“Simple and to the point.  That’s why you’re my second favourite Chrome” Tsuyoshi says, and the girl goes beet red.

“What about you Yamamoto?” Kyoko asks.  “Are you going to be okay listed as Quirkless?”

“I should be asking you that question” Tsuyoshi replies.  “I’m an adult, and once we get this place up and running I’ll have a full time career.  You’re going to school in a power-filled world unarmed.  Sure you don’t want Chrome to teach you how to use your flames?”

Chrome immediately looks over.  “I really wouldn’t mind.”

But Kyoko is already shaking her head.

“No.  I never needed them before, and I don’t want to need them now.  Besides, wont it look a little weird if we have the same quirk?”

Gokudera winces.  “Yeah, we’re already pushing it considering they all look alike.  We can’t risk identical quirks with no genetic match.  Not unless you’ve got a secondary sun under that mist.”

“We’ll never know” Kyoko replies, and Ryohei slams his pen down.

“I’m extremely going with ‘Extreme Activation!’” he announces, and Kyoko grabs his paper.

He’s even included the exclamation mark.  His sister mentally debates if it’s worth arguing for less than ten seconds.

“Extreme Activation! It is.”

Tsuyoshi grins, and points his bottle at Tsuna, who is still slumped on the table.

“Okay Tsuna, you’re the last holdout.  What have you got?”

The teen whines as Gokudera and Yamamoto coax him up.

“I don’t KNOW!” he wails.  “There is no possible quirk that will explain fire, ice, hyper intuition and everything else my stupid flames do!”

“You could say your flames are you harmonising with your own will?” Chrome offers.  “While your  intuition is harmonising with everyone else?”

“But what about zero point?” Tsuna asks.

“Forcing yourself out of harmony with the world?” Yamamoto offers with a laugh, and Tsuna slumps.

“Why couldn’t my family have had any other flame. They always make things so complicated.”

Gokudera forehead furrows.

“Family...wait a sec.”

He digs out the his new phone and starts shoving in a web address.

“Hang on, I read something about this when I was researching modern history...here!”

Gokudera happily digs up the quirk page – clearly something to explain to young children and therefore perfect for strangers to this world – and starts reading aloud.

“Although there is also a small possibility of developing a mutated quirk that inherits none of your family line’s previous abilities, most children inherit one of their parent’s quirks.  It is also common to develop a quirk that includes aspects of both parents unique abilities.  In some cases, aspects of quirks from grandparents can also make a reappearance.”

The website goes on to talk about something called quirk marriages, but that’s not really important so Gokudera closes the page.  

“Maybe we can still call it a harmony quirk” he suggests.  It’s a quirk that, ‘harmonises’ with other quirks.”

Tsuna’s looking at him in confusion, but Tsuyoshi looks thoughtful, so Gokudera presses on.

“Okay, so, we’ll say your great-grandfather or something inherited the quirk that could harmonise matter, but what he didn’t know was that it mutated so it could fuse with any other quirk brought into the line.  So he married someone with a fire quirk, and had a kid that could harmonise and use fire.  Then there was an intuition quirk, an ice quirk-”

“Oh!” Tsuna gasps.  “So it’s still the one quirk, it just adds things with each generation?”

Tsuyoshi nods.  “And it means you don’t have to explain every aspect of it when people ask” he says.  “Just that it’s stockpiled every generation.  Although if you could just keep to the hyper intuition as much as possible, it would probably help.”

Tsuna nods, but starts to write.

Hayato, Takeshi, you’re going to have to grill him” Tsuyoshi warns.  “You need to be able to explain that as if you’ve known it your whole life.  Same goes for all of you – all things considered, this is not a world you want to get caught out in. Vongola might not exist, but it’s hardly peaceful.”

Everyone nods, and Takeshi takes the forms with ease.

“Okay.  Tomorrow, Chrome and Hayato are going to sneak these into the Quirk Registry office, and then I want you straight back so you can get to school on time.  Not going to let you be late on the first day.”

[wordsablaze]

Salt Is The New Mistletoe

Magnus' love advice doesn't always suit everyone but while his heart is singing and the shadowhunter is pining, Simon manages to cook up some mutual confessions and share his traditions with Jace... Written for the Jimon Secret Snowflake!

A/N: We’ve all been revealed so it’s about time i post this. I hope you all enjoyed your festivities!

Simon throws his hands up in the air as he finally, finally stops pacing the living room of Magnus Bane.

"Are you done, Sammy?"

"Magnus, I know you know my name. And this is serious!"

Magnus sighs deeply but then stands up so he's directly in front of the vampire and blinks slowly. "Love you as I do, Sally, my advice to you will stay the same no matter how much you wear down my carpet."

"Sally isn't even remotely close to Simon!"

"Who's Sally?" Magnus asks, feigning innocence.

Simon just glares at him. "I can't just tell him!"

"Then sing it to him!" Magnus replies, trying to hide his exasperation at the perpetually angst-ridden teen.

Said angst-ridden teen opens his mouth to argue but then falls silent, his eyes darting back and forth as he seems to plan something. Magnus raises an eyebrow at the look but smiles to himself, pushing Simon into a seated position on the beanbags before heading to his study.

It's hours later when Simon finally stirs from his contemplative state and searches for Magnus. He ends up only finding a note written in literally dazzling cursive, a note that tells him he can leave at any time because the wards on the apartment have been temporarily modified for him.

Smiling, he heads to the park so he can find a quiet corner where he can write this song.

Within minutes, he's immersed in his notebook, perched on his side atop one of the most peculiar boulders in the area, but that's nothing new - he's known to be crammed into the smallest nook or the strangest cranny with his glasses stuck to his face as if they've been superglued.

It's strange how naturally the words flow when he's picturing those mismatched eyes, those golden locks of hair in the sunlight, or that swing of a seraph blade. The lyrics piece themselves together like patchwork and his handwriting morphs into an almost illegible scrawl in his rush to get the words down. He can feel himself falling into a zone he usually doesn't leave until he has a completed first draft.

"Simon?" a voice asks, and he jumps, dropping his notebook, losing his balance, diving after said notebook despite his lack of equilibrium, and eventually falling on his side.

"Sorry!" the same voice exclaims, except now it sounds bashful and surprised, not to mention rather similar to someone he knows…

"Jace?"

'Naturally blond' hair flies up and settles once again as Jace nods quickly. "The one and only."

"What are you doing here?" Simon pushes his glasses further up his nose for no reason other than to avoid staring at Jace's perfectly mismatched eyes.

"I, uh, wanted a walk."

"A… walk?" Simon echoes, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, you know, moving your legs and lifting your feet?"

"Are you suggesting I don't know how to walk?"

Jace, to Simon's shock, flushes a deep cherry red and shakes his head. "Of course you know how to walk, that's how you get in all those impressive- I mean, crazy positions all the time."

Simon grins to himself but nods slowly, trying to act confused. It doesn't last long, however, because his phone rings and he jumps at least half a metre into the air, his notebook once again flying out of his hands only to land at Jace's feet. His eyes wide, he immediately grabs it back before the shadowhunter can blink, his heart racing.

"Trouble?" Simon asks as his greeting after picking up the phone with a silent, bashful apology to Jace.

"What do you think of me? I went to your parents'…" Clary trails off.

Simon can tell Jace is staring but dismisses the thought. "You did? Did they say anything about, uh, well… me?"

"No." Clary pauses, and Simon swears he can hear sirens but she continues, "Whatever you and Magnus did… worked… I'm sorry?"

His eyes close for the briefest of moments but he tries not to feel bad about it and instead reaches for the pride that should arise from a plan carried out correctly. He shakes his head. "Uh, thanks, I'll see you?"

"You bet," Clary responds; Simon hangs up.

He pockets his phone and runs a hand through his hair, sighing.

"Everything okay?" Jace asks. Simon had almost forgotten he was there.

"Clary's fine. I mean, I thought I heard sirens but there's usually sirens around there so I'm guessing she's alright and-"

"Simon," Jace interrupts, a bemused expression on his face. "I don't care about Clary."

Simon blinks.

"Wait, that's not what I meant; I do care about Clary." Jace looks like he wants to whack his head on the nearest wall. "It's just that I wasn't asking about her."

"Then who were you asking about?"

After a moment's hesitation, Jace answers: "The most oblivious vampire in all of history, apparently."

Simon's brows furrow in confusion as he considers this before he puts two and two together, so to speak. "You mean me? You were asking about me?"

Jace rolls his eyes but then nods as if worried about Simon's response. Simon shakes his head at the thought, knowing that there's no way someone like Jace could care what he thought... Sadly.

"What about me?"

"Is everything okay?" Jace asks, his voice as kind as the concern in his eyes.

Simon realises that he'd been biting his lip in anticipation of the reply but he clears his throat as Jace sends him a comforting smile. "I, um- yeah, I'm good. Not as good as Mike, mind you, but better than Joyce. I mean, those lights were quite the feat and I think-"

"Simon." Jace's clearly amused but still sharp voice cuts into his growing tangent, causing him to pause his answer. "I have no idea what you're saying, you nerd."

"Remind me to introduce you to Netflix," Simon mutters to himself before coughing. "Uh, I'm good."

"Sure? Do you want- do you need help with anything or...?"

Simon opens his mouth to decline but changes his mind and worries his lower lip instead

"So you do need help?" Jace asks, trying not to sound overly eager.

He can't even admit to himself that he'd gone out with something in his brain wanting to find Simon, never mind admit it to anyone else out loud, especially not the nerdy vampire himself. Luckily, something else clicks in his brain and he gasps loud enough to make Simon jump before apologising and declaring, "It's Hanukkah soon, isn't it?"

If Simon's frozen smile and arched eyebrows are anything to go by, he's astonished.

Jace doesn't know if he should feel proud of inviting such a beautiful expression onto the vampire's face or if he should feel guilty for painting himself as a person who wouldn't care about other people's celebrations.

"Don't worry about it," Simon says eventually.

No way is Jace having that. "How can I help? Do you want me to- I mean, should I buy ingredients or whatever?" He resists the urge to clench his fists. "Got nothing better to do anyway…"

He'd added the last lie to try and tone down his eagerness but the way Simon's excitement dims a little makes him regret it with every fibre of his being.

A strange silence floats between them until Simon nods. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I could use your arms." He goes redder than a vampire should be able to. "I mean, an extra set of arms."

"What do we- you need?" Jace asks, confusing himself by wondering what's wrong with his arms then cursing at himself for overthinking Simon's words.

"I don't know yet, I'll have to check what I- oh. Um, actually, I have to check what the recipe is."

"You don't know it?" Jace asks, then digs his nails into his palms. "I mean, I thought you'd remember because you seem like someone with a good memory and this seems like another thing you could retain but it's absolutely if you don't because there's no pressure or anything…" He fizzles out as he sees Simon laugh.

"For someone who says 'I mean' a lot, you don't seem to be telling me what you really mean."

I can't, Jace thinks, because you would run away from me faster than you've ever run in your whole life.

"So, what do you need?" Jace asks, ignoring the twisting of his stomach and raking a hand through his hair.

"We probably need to take a trip to the supermarket or something," Simon says, "unless you have eggs and potatoes in your pockets?"

Jace snorts, then catches himself. "That's not funny."

"Are you sure?" Simon asks as he starts leading the way. "You seem pretty amused to me."

Following Simon, Jace decides not to reply at all, letting a strangely soothing silence fall upon them once again. The two of them walk in silence to the nearest shop before Simon freezes without warning; Jace crashes right into him and lets out a small yelp.

"I can't-" Simon's statement stops as abruptly as his movement a few seconds ago.

"What is it?" Jace asks.

Simon shakes his head, nervously wringing his hands. "These people… They all know me. I can't go in… I can't…"

Jace has never before acted upon his small desire to wrap an arm around Simon's shoulders but he swallows his anxiety and does so, sending the vampire what he hopes is a comforting smile. "I'll do it for you, they won't be able to see you."

"You will?"

"Yeah, I'll be able to see you," Jace replies, pulling his arm back after a small attempted pat of reassurance.

Simon smiles. "No, I mean, you'd do that for me?"

Oh. Jace can't form words that accurately describe how willing he is to help Simon and how long he's wanted to do something that shows he cares so he just nods, raising an eyebrow. "Like I said, I've got nothing better to do."

When he says that, he doesn't mean to say he's only doing this because nothing else has come up. He literally means that helping Simon and trying to show he cares is the most enjoyable scenario he can imagine but, sadly, Simon doesn't seem to understand what he's trying to say. A part of Jace wishes he could explain but his fear of the endless potentially catastrophic outcomes stops him from doing so.

They sort out the runes and things needed for their arrangement, Jace swallowing the deep regret in his chest that doesn't seem to make sense but he can't find a way to stop it, to explain it, to unravel it.

"Right, what's first?" Jace asks, making sure his voice doesn't give anything away.

"Uh, potatoes," Simon answers, so the two of them enter the shop, Jace confident and full of smiles, Simon jittery and nervous.

"Why are there six different kinds of potatoes?" Jace mutters under his breath.

The woman beside him almost crashes into Simon with her violent jump of shock. She squints at Jace as if analysing him, then smiles. "What is it you're making, dear?"

Jace blanches, looking to Simon with a bemused expression. Simon laughs for a second but then mouths 'potato latkes' to him, which he then repeats, almost certain he's pronouncing it wrong. Luckily, the woman smiles at him and pats his head. "How kind of you."

"Sorry?"

"Well, you're making this for someone special, right?"

"Uh…" Jace considers her expression and decides it's best to agree. "Yes."

With a soft smile, the woman starts explaining potatoes to him in such detail he can't help wondering why she's not written a book on them yet. Nevertheless, he listens to her explaining about the vegetable for almost five minutes, then politely thanks her and goes to the till so he can pay.

"There's more to buy, you know?" Simon speaks up for the first time since he'd agreed he was making the latkes for someone special.

Jace waits until the potatoes are in a bag and he's out of the shop before replying. "I am not spending another moment in the vicinity of a woman obsessed with potatoes."

"Wouldn't want to ruin your perfect hair, would you?" Simon mutters, rolling his eyes.

"You think my hair's perfect?" Jace questions, his ego fluttering with happiness.

Simon snorts. "As if."

Simon doesn't know if he regrets saying that or not. Something inside of him is glad to have gotten away with such a remark where most people would be glared at or punched but another part of him decides that the diminishing amusement – or whatever it is in Jace's alluring eyes – isn't worth the snippet of satisfaction.

"So, where else?"

"That's all we need actually, Magnus said I can use his kitchen until… well, forever."

"What about him and… you know, Alec? Won't they be, uh, busy?"

Simon chuckles at how awkward Jace sounds talking about something he's no stranger to but shakes his head anyway. "Nah, they're in Brazil or something."

"Brazil? Alec didn't tell me they were going to Brazil…"

"He wouldn't have known." Simon waves a hand. "Magnus planned it as a surprise."

Jace nods, visibly relieved, but then frowns. "How do you know?"

Choosing not to reveal his song-writing decision or his pretty open but probably not as open as he thinks friendship with Magnus, he shrugs. "Overheard some stuff."

Despite being evidently suspicious, Jace accepts that answer. "Are we going to Magnus' place then?"

"You're coming?" Simon asks, shocked.

"I don't have t- If you're not comfortable or-"

"No, no, I just… I thought you'd be busy or something." Simon winces at the weak excuse but keeps his eyes on the shine in Jace's eyes, not wanting to miss a second of it.

"Nothing better to do, remember?" Jace smiles and Simon can tell he isn't saying what he truly means but he doesn't think it's his place to point that out.

And so, with a touch of tension and heaps of curiosity hanging between them, they make their way to Magnus' apartment, Jace carrying the bag of potatoes so he has something to clench his hands around.

"Wait, doesn't Magnus have wards around his apartment?" Jace asks as they climb the stairs in his building.

Simon bites his lip for a moment, considering. "Yeah… But let's try anyway…"

Jace looks mightily dubious but nods, the two of them knocking on the door together.

Simon's eyes widen as the door opens without any trouble; Magnus must have anticipated the two of them coming back together. No wonder he's the high warlock of Brooklyn.

"Well, shut the door, would you?" Jace calls to Simon as he walks into Magnus' kitchen, opening the bag of potatoes.

"How do you know your way around this place?" Simon asks after shutting the door and staring at Jace's hair for an entire minute.

Jace stays silent for the longest two minutes of eternity before shrugging almost nonchalantly. "Alec."

"Alec?" Simon echoes, turning behind him, half expecting to see said shadowhunter.

Chuckling, Jace shakes his head. "No, I mean- I mean I'm usually the one who has to come and find Alec when he's stayed here…"

Simon nods understandingly even though he doesn't understand. He can't tell if he's crazy or kind but it doesn't really matter, the only important thing being Jace and his rather flimsy explanation. A large part of him would love to believe Alec is the only reason to visit Magnus' but a small part of his heart can't stop nagging his brain, saying that Jace himself may have been in trouble, Jace himself may have needed Magnus' help.

He shakes his head, killing the thought. Turning to Jace, he smiles. "Right, do you want to beat the eggs?"

Jace blinks. "Beat them at what?"

There's a second of shock before Simon bursts out laughing, doubling over and one hand flying to his glasses to make sure they don't fall off and break. He doesn't even know why he wears them anymore – he doesn't need them – but it's probably something to do with sentiment and he'd rather not explore that anytime soon.

"You don't know how to beat an egg?" He breathes, his hysteria died down considerably.

"What am I supposed to beat them at?" Jace repeats as if asking the question a second time can make it any more acceptable and not completely wrong.

"You don't know…? Never mind. I have a new plan: sit back and watch," Simon orders, shaking his head.

"Sit and watch? Have you met me?"

"Unfortunately."

Jace groans loudly, rolling his mismatched eyes and lifting himself onto the counter. It wouldn't be a problem but he just watches as Simon dances around the kitchen and grabs the ingredients Jace passes him, doing whatever he has to do with them. He doesn't know what it is about the shadowhunter watching that makes him nervous, but he has butterflies nonetheless.

"Is there something on my face?" Simon asks as he stops to take a breath he doesn't really need. "You've been staring at me for the past six minutes."

Jace jumps and hits his head on the cupboard, immediately wincing and sliding off the counter only to overbalance and crash into Simon, both of them groaning as they beeline to the floor, landing with two soft thuds and the potential for a matching set of bruises.

"Sorry, Lewis." Jace coughs awkwardly, pulling himself up. "My bad."

"That doesn't make it any better," Simon groans, grabbing the bar stool and propping himself up on the counter. "In fact, that almost makes it worse."

Jace smiles, a genuine smile that lights up and crinkles the corners of his eyes.

Simon finds himself smiling at Jace in return without having to force the gesture. It's just something about Jace's bright eyes and hopeful aura that you can't refuse – it's basically a crime to turn away from him. It's a crime Simon would love to commit because it would save him the ache in his chest.

"Pass me the onions?" he asks, trying to change the atmosphere.

"Which ones?" Jace points at the basket of onions. "There are at least four different types here."

"The ones that look easiest to chop?" Simon suggests, making a note to inquire why the High Warlock of Brooklyn needs so many different onions.

He hears Jace mutter something but there's an onion in front of him before he can complain so he just salutes in half-mocking gratitude and carries on preparing the dish.

"You have flour on your face!" Jace informs Simon, already moving forward to get rid of said ingredient.

Simon flinches ever so slightly but leans into Jace's touch as the offending flour is wiped away. Without missing a beat, the two of them lock gazes, their eyes reflecting the confusion and concern they're both feeling. There's a hesitation in Simon's eyes that Jace hasn't seen before, a hesitation he'd never expected of the nerd.

"Why aren't you celebrating with your family?" Jace asks softly.

"They don't remember me," Simon replies eventually, just when Jace has decided he should give up on his curiosity.

Jace must frown because Simon steps back, shaking his head. "It's stupid, I know, I just couldn't stand them..."

"Thinking you weren't yourself and needed fixing?" Jace suggests.

Looking back up at him with a smile, Simon nods. "Yeah, exactly."

Something beeps before the conversation can become any more emotional and Simon moves to stop the infuriating noise so they don't both pull their hair out in desperation. Jace watches, rubbing a finger over the courage rune on his wrist, and smiles as Simon expertly manoeuvre his way around the kitchen as if it was his own house.

Once everything is safe and silent – aside from the gentle hiss of the stove – Simon turns back to Jace and Jace genuinely feels his heart lighten at the thought of someone immediately turning to him just because they can.

"They're not really my family anymore, you know?"

"Huh?"

Simon swallows and carries on. "My parents… they're not really my family. They're the old Simon's family, the human Simon's family. And um- they, uh, they wouldn't want a vampire for son- for a son."

Jace's heart melts and freezes simultaneously. He can't decide if he wants to hug someone or punch something so he chooses to do nothing, letting Simon breathe deeply.

"I don't even need anyone that- anyone to need me, you know? I just… I just want to celebrate with a people- with people that accept me?"

"I accept you," Jace whispers softly. "I will always accept you."

Simon's smile could illuminate a tunnel of despair.

Jace coughs, unsure of himself for once, "And don't you worry, we'll find your pretty face a partner."

"What?"

"There must be someone you like, right?" Jace raises an eyebrow as he pretends not to be cursing himself internally.

Simon blankly stares at him for a few seconds, then chuckles. "Are we really doing this?"

Unfortunately, they have to wait until Simon takes the potato latkas off the stove before the conversation can continue. Even as the vampire does something as simple as removing a pan or whatever it's called, Jace wants to scream his appreciation and do something to wipe the underlying sadness away from him.

"I'm not good at talking about this kind of stuff," Simon says immediately, "but I can sing it for you."

"Sing it?" Jace questions.

"Sure." Simon shrugs. "It's just like performing at Hunter Moon, but with less of an audience."

"I count for at least ten people, right?" Jace winks.

Simon's smile might be small but it's still a smile and Jace is happy to see it there. He follows Simon into what he assumes is the guest room and waits as he assembles his performing equipment.

There's an uncanny lullaby hidden in the melody of Simon's music, one that evokes a happiness inside of him he didn't know he had. Despite the foundation of bliss in the beats, Simon's words are heartfelt and touching, speaking of loves and pains and impossible decisions. Jace doesn't recognise who Simon is singing about in his gentle voice until there's a verse talking about the mysterious person's eyes: it would be hard not to recognise someone describing his own.

He waits for Simon to finish, his mind whirling and his heart just hoping.

"You wrote a song about me?"

Simon shakes his head and for one, chilling moment, Jace thinks he's messed up big-time but the vampire's action is accompanied by a shrug and a whisper: "Obviously."

Jace doesn't know what to say. He's heard a plethora of love confessions in the past but never from someone he's willing to sacrifice his beauty sleep for.

"You think my face is pretty?" Simon asks before Jace can form words in response to the song; speech is never usually a problem for him but music has never been so beautiful.

"The prettiest."

Simon smiles, apparently finding out all he needs from those two words.

He takes a small step forwards, smiling slyly. "You, uh, you have salt on your face."

Apparently, sodium chloride can now be used as an excuse to reveal and display affection; Simon leans forward and plants a small, gentle kiss on Jace's cheek.

Jace almost shivers and swallows before shaking his head. He sees Simon look worried but decides to carry on instead of trying to explain. "You can't get away with that."

"I'm sorry, I thought yo- oh!" Simon practically squeaks as Jace makes his move, this time landing a tiny kiss on Simon's lips with a classic Herondale smirk.

Simon doesn't know how to describe the emotions bubbling inside of him so he just grins widely, pushing his glasses up onto his face and trying not to literally bounce off the walls in excitement.

"Your, uh, potato things?" Jace coughs, flushed.

Raking his slightly shaking fingers through his hair, Simon nods and clears his throat, trying not to focus on his tingling skin. "Right. The Latkes!"

Five minutes later, there's a plate of potato latkes sitting on a plate in between the two of them.

Simon offers Jace the first one, purely to try and exile the tension in the room, but Jace shakes his head. "I think there's something missing."

"What?" Simon asks, alarmed.

Jace winks again, giving Simon a chance to lose himself in the colours of his eyes, and stands up, moving to grab something from the counter behind them. He genuinely has no idea what the shadowhunter is doing until the bottle of salt is placed in front of him.

"I think it needs a pinch of salt, don't you?"

It's hard to contain his grin as he nods slowly. "Maybe more than a pinch?"

Then, both of them completely ignoring the salt despite its existence being the trigger to their current situation, they kiss once again. This time, it's all out and proper, tasting of salt and warmth, potatoes and joy, relief and love.

When they pull away to catch their breath, Jace beams. "Who needs mistletoe when you have salt?"

"Definitely not us," Simon replies, still breathing heavily.

Their interlocked fingers and matching smiles are more than worth the awkward silences and tense moments they'd had to experience. As they share a lovingly sly look, Simon decides he couldn't possibly ask for anyone better to celebrate with, anyone better to share his traditions with, anyone better to love.

Jace coughs. "So, uh, for the record, I might- well, I probably don't really hate you…"

Simon just smiles fondly. "I love you too."

He's going to have to thank Magnus' salt for this one.

like/reblog but don’t repsot, thanks!

[klomonx]

‘The Raven’ Review from 2012

Plot Summary   The movie attempts to explain the mystery of Edgar Allan Poe's death by including him in the finding and stopping a serial killer. I'm not too sure when the movie begins, or how long it is before his death, but by October 7, 1849 Poe does indeed die. (This isn't a spoiler you can go look it up people). The serial killer's victims all pretty much make references to Poe's work, which is why Poe is needed in the investigation; Poe is also involved because his fiance, Emily, gets kidnapped by the killer and it becomes the central point of the movie to get her back. The serial killer makes Poe write about the various deaths which provide Poe with inspiration that he has not had for some time according to the movie. Characterization of Poe   First off, I do not agree with the actor chosen for Poe's part. He vaguely looks like Poe, but does now have the same head/face shape, nor the same style of facial hair (seriously, Poe had a mustache not some goatee thing going on). He also does not talk at all like Poe does; not only does he not have a slight southern accent his way and manner of speaking just..do not sit right with me. For instance, over the course of the movie Poe says twat, shit, whore, and fuck(ing). I know that most of those probably existed during that time, but a quick search for the word 'twat' reveals to me that it did not become a common swear until the 1920's so it seems really out of place. Fuck also does too, but I'm not as clear as to how often that word has been used.   Other than the swears nothing Poe says truly..sounds like Poe. The movie portrays him as a very romantic drunkard, which I guess is somewhat close to what Poe really was like...but they make him sound very grouchy. He had his moments of violence yes, but he wasn't really a grouchy, angry fellow unless he was drunk. In fact, he does drink quite a lot in the movie, but he never appears drunk. This makes little sense to me because it seems Poe got drunk fairly often and easily, so how on earth did he remain sober throughout the whole movie remains a mystery to me.   Secondly, for some reason or another the movie makes Poe own a raccoon. I don't know why, and it's never explained why the thing exists, but it is such a..a...stupid thing to include. Poe was a cat person, he owned two cats over the course of his life, if I remember (one being named Caterina). The movie also makes no mention whatsoever of his aunt, Muddy, who lived with him throughout his life. I find this strange, as the movie does actually mention Virginia. Poe has a slightly emotional conversation with another character where he speaks of Virginia's illness and how hard it was for him. I found this to be very unexpected as up until this point 'The Raven' seemed to make him appear like the stereotypical author many people know him as.   Perhaps the most damning thing about the actor's portrayal of Poe, however, has to be a common misconception about him and how it is displayed in the movie. He is accused of being an opiate by his fiance's father, and the movie does not seem to deny that Poe was or was not an opium user-he was, in fact, NOT a opium user in spite of the movie's implications of it being otherwise. This misconception alone probably was the worst way Poe was displayed in the movie.  However stranger than what the movie got wrong about Poe is what they got right. For instance the movie shows that when Poe wrote, he would glue his individual papers together so that the second page, for instance, would be glued to the bottom of the first, and so on. This made his various writings scroll-like and long, and I was incredibly happy to see that they knew that detail. Also, the movie seems to hint at Poe's various morals and views. For instance there is a part early on where Poe is dissecting a heart (I should mention now that this movie is very, very bloody) and describing various things that a heart does. When asked where he received such a thing, he says how an admirer of his writings works at the morgue. I took this to speak about what Poe thought of grave-robbers, those who would dig up corpses in order to sell them to doctors, etc. to study for medical purposes. Such a practice was illegal but needed for those in the medical profession, and it was something Poe agreed on. The movie also makes Poe's critic nature clear very early on as he rants about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and Ralph Waldo Emerson and how terrible they are. The former amused me greatly because I remember reading that Poe had spoofed Longfellow's 'Paul Revere's Ride', making fun of its simple rhyming and such. To see his anger directed at both of those writers seemed very accurate, as Poe was more well-known for his criticisms during his lifetime than his stories or poems (although those were rather well-known too). The Accuracy of Other Characters / Poe's Life   Similar to how Poe is portrayed, I should also note about the other characters in the movie in relation to Poe, and how Poe's life is reflected upon in the movie. What I think is one of the worst features of the movie is the including of Emily, Poe's fiance. After Viginia's death in 1847, Poe did indeed go through quite a few romances with other women and did become engaged to one or two. However, at this time in 1849 he was to be married to his childhood sweetheart, Sarah Elmira Royster. Before his death in October, Poe was on his way to be married to Elmira in Virginia, but somehow ended up in Baltimore on his way there-where he died. The movie, however, makes Poe appear to be a resident of Baltimore and makes up Emily completely. Poe was involved with a few women (including Elmira) who had money and disapproving families, yes, but one named Emily was not among them.   The time period of the movie alone makes me unhappy, as Poe would not have made a good detective at the end of his life. Even though everything in his life at the time seemed to be getting better, he still had to overcome Virginia's death, was still poor, and still had alcohol problems. It also makes the newspaper Poe works for (The Baltimore..something. I don't remember the full name) inaccurate as Poe did not live in Baltimore at the time and would not have had a job there.   Another slip-up in the time period of the movie has to do with a part where Poe actually mentions his mother who was an actress. Poe along with the Baltimore Police Force enter and search a theater, and Poe mentions that the theater was the one his mother had acted in. However Poe's mother, if I remember, went to various theaters, and I remember the one in Boston (where Poe was born) had burned down. Maybe my memory is a little fuzzy on this point, but I find it highly unlikely that Poe's mother would have acted there..or if Poe would have known seeing as she died when he was quite young. In fact, the movie makes absolutely no mention of his foster mother and father or his schooling with the exception of West Point. I didn't understand this at all, as I thought if anything the Allan family would have been mentioned or referenced.   As for West Point, Poe mentions that he had learned navigation skills there, and he then proceeds to solve a clue left by the serial killer using said skills. I found this to be very, very convenient as I don't think Poe ever had to use such skills in real life-so, if he learned them, why would he need them? In fact, he probably wouldn't even remember anything he had learned, so it seemed much too easy to solve the problem.   However, the movie does include some interesting character's related to Poe's life. For instance a coworker by the name of Griswold. I was happy to see this name appear, as Rufus Griswold was Poe's literary rival, and it is Griswold that dragged Poe's name through the mud after his death-however the Griswold in the movie, although a rival of Poe, does not have the same first name (I didn't hear it clearly but I believe it may have been Linus). The movie still makes Griswold and Poe rivals, and Poe does criticize the man, but I wish he could have played a larger role in the movie than he did.  Lastly, and perhaps most unexpectedly to those of you who know little about Poe is the murder. I spent time before the movie trying to guess whom the murderer would be, but I somehow forgot a very key thing in Poe's life. By the middle of the movie, however, I had figured out who the murderer was not based on the clues and characters in the movie, but based on an actual name. I don't wish to spoil this name, but when I realized it I felt so stupid that I hadn't figured it out by the beginning of the movie. (As a side note, the killer also speaks about Jules Verne, in France. This made me giggle.) Story Accuracy Perhaps most importantly in the movie is how the various stories and poems are used in the murdering and other parts of the movie. What amazed me most about this is that for the most part, the movie was very accurate in the details of relating the murders to different stories. The stories/poem that the murderer references are the following, in order; 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue', 'The Pit and the Pendulum', 'The Masquerade of Red Death', 'The Raven', 'The Mystery of Marie Roget', 'The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar',  'The Cask of Amontillado', and 'The Tell-Tale Heart'. Other writings mentioned in the movie are 'The Decent into the Maelstörm' and 'Annabel Lee'.   As mentioned before, the movie is extremely bloody. The first murder, based on the 'Murders in the Rue Morgue' made me laugh quite hard as the police investigated the crime scene I knew exactly what was going to occur. In the 'Murders, the murders are discovered in a locked room that appear to be inescapable from the outside, one victim's head is nearly severed off and the other is shoved up the fireplace. However, upon further inspection it is learned that the window is opened with a spring, and as the main Inspector realizes this and connects it to Poe, I was just dying of laughter. After all it seemed to play out and follow the details of the story very, very well. Less funny, however, is the 'Pendulum death..which does show the poor man being cut in half and was very hard to watch. This was not quite as accurate in the story (that story is one of the few with a happy ending.).   The Masquerade was done well, it occurred during an actual Masquerade in the movie, and it is when Emily is kidnapped. There is not much to say about how accurate this is to the story, but it did occur at midnight, and the movie drives home the point that the killer is basing it off of the short story with various references. The Raven and the Marie Roget go together, with the discovery of a victim who has been strangled using the same method used in Marie Roget-she is discovered in a coffin that also contains a Raven which bursts out when some unfortunate people happen to open the coffin.  However a sad bit about 'The Raven' occurs earlier in the movie when Poe is reciting the last few stanzas of his poem. One of the last lines of the poem reads, 'And the lamp light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor', however in the movie the actor playing Poe misquotes this. He says:  'And the lamp light o'er him steaming throws his shadow on the floor'. This I caught almost automatically, and I was very angry that they somehow were able to mess up that word of the poem-especially since the word 'steaming' does not make much sense in context. The most obscure reference in the movie is made to 'Facts, as it is not a direct reference at all, but has to be explained by Poe when he and the police discover a severed tongue. This minor detail is not obvious until Poe explains it, but I was happy to see one of Poe's lesser known tales noted within the movie in such a creative way. 'The Cask is most obviously done, where the last victim murdered is walled up behind a wall-I was hoping for 'The Black Cat' to be mentioned as well but was let down. Another referenced to 'The Cask is a boat which is named 'Fortunato', which instantly caught my attention. However even though this adds to the murder later on in the movie, it leads to an inaccuracy. When asked if Poe wrote any stories about sailors, he says no, however I seem to believe that this is untrue. Off the top of my head I can think of two stories- 'The Decent into the Maelstörm' and the novel, 'The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket.' 'The Gold Bug' also involved Capt. Kidd, so I'm not quite sure why they seemed to overlook these details, since the murderer himself mentions 'The Decent to Poe in one of his ominous notes. As for the 'Heart, it is done last and toward the end of the movie. I won't say much, but it is rather obvious to figure out whilst watching the movie. Lastly, I must mention another irksome detail. The poem, 'Annabel Lee' is of course recited within the movie (not in full). I don't mind this, but what I do mind is that Emily seems to imply that Poe wrote the poem about her-and worse, Poe seems to be totally okay with it. Even though I know the true inspiration for the poem isn't known, it is very likely that the poem was done for Virginia. The fact that the movie decides to mention Virginia later on proves that they did some research into where the poem originated-so why do they simply make it so that some person who DOES NOT EVEN TRULY EXIST IN POE'S LIFE the subject of the poem? The more she mentioned or recited the poem, the more I began to despise her character. Overview Poe's Characterization: 4/10 The Accuracy of Other Characters / Poe's Life: 6/10   Story Accuracy: 8/10 Overall: 6.5/10 (Better than expected)         

[mad-hats]

A Matter of Life and Death, that’s the title of this story I’ve been working on...it’s my first legit thing so don’t hate on me.

Lei and Melody Pond pressured me into posting this ASAP last ight so it’s all I could do. But hey, I gotta say it’s some cool stuff about the universal entities, Life and Death...plus some other dudes.

I dedicate this novel to my family and friends who inspired me and helped me write this story...and to readers like you!  Yes...you reading this...right now.

Prologue

Tony Torelli, unlike most people Death came accross, was satisfied with his life.  He had managed to stay alive for 99 years, which was far longer than any of his uncles, aunts, or his parents had.

Tony was rather impressed with himself, considering that he had immigrated to America with nothing but his wife by his side and his ambition.  After starting his own bakery with the money from selling little pastries on a cart and from Mrs. Torelli  doing the neighborhood's laundry, Tony had a total of five children, who each provided two grandchildren for Mr. And Mrs. Torelli.  

Death recalled meeting his wife, Abrielle Torelli in 2010, she was surprisingly rather calm considering she had just died of lung cancer with no actual knowledge of how the “Passing Procedure” functioned.  Although he was never entirely sure about what lied beyond each of the  doors to the afterlife, Death knew that the sweet elderly Italian woman would be heading for something pleasant.  So Death felt a wave of satisfaction, knowing that Mr. and Mrs. Torelli would be united as soon as Tony Torelli finally finished groaning in pain and collapsed on his kitchen floor.

As his heart stopped beating, a wisp rose from the old man’s body and formed into his ghost.  Death gave a little wave from his seat at Mr. Torelli’s kitchen table.  The ghost of Tony Torelli stepped back, scared and confused, Death pondered whether Torelli was more scared by his own ghostly appearance, or by the sudden appearance of a black cloaked skeleton with a scythe against his chair. Either way, he looks like he’s seen a ghost, Death silently chuckled at his own horrible joke.

“What is this, am I dead? Are you- are you the Grim Reaper?” Torelli asked worriedly.  Death stood up and brushed off his cloak, “Yes and yes, but don’t worry, most of this isn’t so bad as most think” he said in a surprisingly comforting tone.  

“It works like this; I ask you a few questions about your life and if you are honest and if you meet the qualifications, you can go to the afterlife of your choosing”.  Torelli nodded slowly, despite the baffled expression on his face, he seemed to understand.  Huh, this one’s a strong one.  

“So Mr. Torelli, how did you die?”  

Tony Torelli thought for a moment, “Well it seems like I have just died of a heart attack,”

Death nodded in approval.

“That’s right, not the most noble death, but the noble ones always tend to be the most painful anyway.  Moving on, do you think you were a good person?”

“Well, I suppose.  I’ve never been involved in anything illegal, I tried to provide the best life I could for my family.  Of course I’ve sinned, but I ask our Lord and Savior for forgiveness regularly, I try not to judge others...I’m not going to hell am I?”

Death glanced into the old man’s soul.  He’s just too innocent, it’s a bit disturbing really,  but as always, Death could sense that Tony definitely wasn’t lying his way to a better eternity.  Death raised a finger over one of the ancient symbols carved into his scythe, it glowed white.  Yep, he’s a good one.  

“No Mr. Torelli, you’re a decent man, even though I’m only a gatekeeper, I’m sure that you’ll be joining your wife today”.  Death swung his scythe in the air and planted it firmly on the floor, a stream mixed of shadows and light bled from the end of the scythe, the stream gathered together and created a sudden archway.  Even over millions of years, Death couldn’t quite find a way to describe it, it was the most beautiful and most threatening thing Death had ever seen; an array of conflicting shadow and light, he supposed, much like that of the stream.  Tony Torelli drifted towards the portal and disappeared.  One down, another several hundred to go.  Before he could teleport to his next destination, Death froze to a stop.  Something changed, Death could feel it within the scythe, he could feel it in the air.  He took a deep breath and smoothed out his cloak, regretting that he had chosen his skeleton form.  Why today?  “Hello old friend, it’s been awhile since we’ve spoken,” Death turned around to face Life.  Of course, she was as obnoxiously radiant looking as usual. “It’s been a week, and a rather peaceful week too,” Death chided.

“Why did you have to reap Tony? A few more months and he would have been a hundred years old.  One. Hundred. I don’t get to do that very often and it’s really annoying when you just come along and reap them at the last minute”.  

Death sighed, “Life darling, he died of a heart attack, everyone has to die eventually, and I help make the transition easier.  You don’t create children, you just open their lives to the world.  Are you okay Life? Something seems to be troubling you.”

Life sighed and bit her lip.  “Well, I came here to talk about far more than a possible hundred year old man...Death, we have a problem.  You know our friend Noir? She’s gone missing”.  Death laughed, “Well I doubt that, she’s a reaper; she’s most likely just off doing paperwork for some particularly complicated death, our jobs aren’t easy you know”.  Life’s expression darkened, switching her aura of serenity to something far more sinister in a matter  of seconds.  

“That isn’t the case Death, you sense people dying, I sense people living; Noir is alive, but she’s oddly distant, there’s something going on that may affect more than just one of your Reapers”

“Distant, you say?  Life, you know that Noir is more than just one of my helpers, she- she’s a close friend. If you truly think there is something going on, I’ll need your help investigating it”.  Life nodded, and pursed her lips, “well, there’s something else too, you know  how the most accurate way to connect to reapers is through blood or DNA, well since we don’t have Noir’s blood sample on hand, I’ve recently discovered, um, another possibility”.

Death twirled his scythe in anticipation, “Yes?”

“She apparently had a child with a mortal named James Mourn about twelve years ago,  especially considering that the girl has inherited Noir’s abilities, she’s our best and only hope.”

Death fell silent, “she never told me that she had a kid, she never told me- never told me any of it...of course  you’re right though, I’ll find the girl, you keep gathering more information,” he said quietly.  Life nodded, deciding it was best to leave her friend to his thoughts as she turned to leave, “her name’s Lucy.  The girl, her name is Lucy Mourn”.

Chapter One

“What if I had a death that was so tragic that my favorite bands would feel the need to come play at it? I mean that would be so cool, maybe Panic at the Disco could play “Far Too Young to Die” or something, I’ll add it to the list of stuff on my will,” Lucy Mourn cheerfully wondered out loud as her math class drew to a close.  The new student sitting next to Lucy glared at her, “You’re so weird, why do you have a will already? We’re only in 7th grade, isn’t it a bit creepy?”.  Lucy tilted her head and smiled as her pale green eyes widened, as if this was a questioned that she loved answering.  “Why, it’s never too early to write a will, we could die any day now, at any moment at all.  I don’t see why I shouldn’t be just a tad bit prepared,” she chirped.  The kid next to her gradually scooted away, unnerved by Lucy’s nonchalance on the subject.  

“Okay class I know that it’s winter break but that doesn’t mean you can’t study your geometry, we have a test a week after you return from break!” Mrs. Harrison desperately called out as the students gathered their backpacks and headed out the door.  The new kid who had been talking to Lucy rushed away from her before the bell had even finished ringing.  Lucy’s shoulders slumped as she put on her black cat-ear beanie with the little pins on them; one normal smiley face, one with x’s for eyes, and finally a little skull pin, along with a few from various bands.  Another failed attempt at friendship but that’s okay, I’m just too brilliant to share my friendship with anyone.  

She swung her black and pastel pink backpack over her shoulder and skipped out into the preteen-packed hallway.  Lucy weaved past the packs of students scattered about the hall and left school for Winter Break, it was a shame, she tended to feel less lonely when she was at school; at home everything just turned into an abyss of time, boredom and loneliness. Outside she saw half of the kids going home by foot, or bus, and the other half being picked up by parents or relatives.  She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of envy at the sight; her Father was often at work as an accountant and she had never met her Mother.  Every time she tried to bring her up while talking to her Dad (which wasn’t very often), he quickly tried to change the subject.  As a result, the most she had ever been told about her mother is that she was a green eyed French woman named Noir Arquette who had ran off not long after Lucy’s birth.   Lucy climbed on the bus and took the only seat that had not been taken, (which was most of them, including those in which kids suddenly sprawled across the seat in a precarious position as she walked by).  After Lucy finally sat down, she looked out the window on the bus as she sketched a scene of unicorns and zombies into her notebook.  By the time the bus came to a stop Lucy had drawn an intricate portrait of rainbows raining over a trio of bloodthirsty unicorns trampling on zombies as the undead creatures tried to bite back at the unicorns in vain.  Satisfied with the sketch, Lucy jumped off the schoolbus and skipped towards her house on Briarwood Boulevard.  The house was pretty small and it was always a little cold, and the inner decor was a little too grey and unwelcoming, but it was Lucy and James Mourn’s home.  

“Dad I’m home from school and it’s time to start Winter Break fun!” Lucy sang as she dropped her backpack, threw off her black jacket and striped scarf as she danced around the house.  Of course there wasn’t a reply; her Dad was still at work, as always.  Lucy untied the shoelaces on her bowtied boots and kicked them off as she went to the kitchen to heat up some ramen noodles from the pantry shelf that she could barely reach due to her petite height.  Before she could do so, Lucy stopped and her heart lifted as she saw a little note on the kitchen counter.  Dad might've left a note to apologize for not being here, that would’ve been so nice!  Yet as Lucy reached for the note her heart fell straight back onto the little hole it was in a moment before.  The note on the counter wasn’t written in James Mourn’s handwriting.  Thanks Dad.

Dear Lucy Mourn,

I’m sorry I didn’t meet you in person today, but most humans tend to be quite frightened upon meeting me. Essentially, I am Death, you might think this is a prank from your dad, but it’s not. I can’t really prove it but if you notice that the flowers next to your kitchen sink were alive this morning and now they’re all wilted. Sorry about that. Anyway as you may or may not know, I am a friend of your mother, Noir, and I am in need of your assistance in order to help her. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow at noon.

Sincerely,

Death/Grim Reaper/Shinigami/Thanatos/etc.

P.S. You may or may not be in grave danger.

Lucy tilted her head, and couldn’t help but giggle.  “I have no idea what’s going on but I also don’t know whether I should be amused or disturbed,” Lucy said to herself.  Ask Dad about it later, it’s definitely not a prank, he’s not cool or weird enough for that, her mind answered back.  Thanks self.  Lucy made the ramen for herself and went to her room to put her earphones on full blast as she started a new sketch, this one of a vengeful little ballerina puppet strangling it’s master with it’s strings.  By 6:49 Lucy heard the door unlock as her Dad came home.

“Hiya Dad! Did you see that weird note on the counter? I saw it earlier and decided to ask you about it,” she called as she skipped to the living room.  James Mourn set down his briefcase and began to undo his tie as he sat on the couch.  “Hey Lucy-Luz, what note are you talking about, there’s nothing here but the ramen packaging you must’ve forgotten to throw away earlier,” he sighed.

Lucy went to the kitchen counter and sure enough, the note was gone.  “It was right here, a little note, it said it was written by Death, like the Grim Reaper.  He was talking about my Mom, did you put it there as a joke?”

James Mourn froze, then sighed. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here Luz, but I’ve had an exhausting day at the office and I’m not ready for your weird goth crap,” her Dad snapped in exasperation.

Lucy drew back, surprised and hurt.  “First of all, I’m not lying, and that ‘weird goth crap’ is just how I am, but you wouldn’t even know that would you?,” Lucy said with all the calmness she could muster.

“Don’t sass me, Lucy, I’ve had a long day and I’ll be having another one tomorrow, just go to bed,” her Dad scolded.  Lucy scoffed and drifted back to her bedroom, where she practiced smiling until the tears stopped and she changed into her skull covered pajamas.  Since it was still only 7:05, Lucy decided to listen to music and watch anime for hours, and hours, until she fell asleep in a tangle of blankets and earphones.  

Lucy sat alone in a dark room that resembled the old ballet studio that Lucy used to attend, despite the teacher being exasperated with the alternative dance style Lucy practiced between warm-up sessions.  The teacher, Ms. Warrington was never very patient with the children she taught, and Lucy was the only one that actually excelled in the class while still being the most hated by the teacher.  Eventually the teacher had an angry outburst and yelled at Lucy, causing James Mourn to take Lucy out of the class.  But this wasn’t Lucy’s 4th grade ballet class.  It was dark, and there weren’t any instructors or students in sight; It looked wrong.  Lucy would have liked to say she was alone, but the mirrored wall with the barres against them reflected images of Lucy, except...different, she looked older, and sadder...it was all wrong.  Along with the twisted reflections, there were dark shadowy figures surrounding her. It was impossible to tell how many because of the mirrors, but Lucy was surrounded.  Even her reflections looked panicked, and  began running towards the surfaces of the mirrors, screaming until they dissolved into black feathers.  The spidery, shadowy figures didn’t seem to notice as they advanced towards her, and a little light rose from Lucy’s screaming mouth.  ‘You can’t escape’, the shadows sang as their shadow fingers wrapped around her throat.  

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Lucy’s jade green eyes popped open and she gasped for breath as she sprang out of bed to turn off the alarm she had set on her phone.  Since school was out for a few weeks she had set it to 10 am instead of 6 am.  After a long shower Lucy changed into a black t-shirt with a pink broken heart design on the front over a pair of buckled black jeans.  James Mourn had already left to go to the office that morning, leaving Lucy to do a few chores around the house.  So, after consuming a small bowl of cornflakes Lucy got started on dusting the house.  All the while Lucy nervously checked the clock, waiting for Death. Lucy laughed at the idea of it.  She looked up at the clock in the living room.  Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.  

Eventually it was noon and Lucy was still home by herself. No Death, no information about Noir.  She scolded herself for being stupid enough for even considering that Death would come knocking on her door.  Lucy sighed and took a moment to be jealous of those who wouldn’t have given the notion a second thought, or whose parents would’ve just given a simple “yes or no” without getting triggered and angry. She shrugged it off and finished up dusting the kitchen and began  to make herself a sandwich, until she froze to a stop while passing the trash can.  What if Dad had the nerve to throw away the note?  Lucy flipped open the trash.  There was nothing inside except the ramen packaging she had finally remembered to throw away.  “Finding anything interesting in there?” a low voice asked from behind her.  Lucy whirled around to see a black hooded figure standing in her living room.  He was holding a tall black scythe with unfamiliar engravings lining the handle.  

“You’re Death,” she whispered with a smile.  

Death stepped back, taken aback by the terrifying look of delight on the young girl’s face.  “Yes, that’s me, shouldn’t you be a little more, I don’t know, alarmed?”

Lucy kept smiling, “I am alarmed but I’m also pretty happy, I thought I was being crazy and stupid but now I think it’s just plain crazy, but I’m used to that part anyway”.

Death tilted his hood back, revealing a rather confused looking skull.  How can he look confused while having no expressions? The world may never know!  “You’re late you know, your note said you would be here by noon but now it’s 12:16, you should have said ‘approximately noon’ in your note, then it technically wouldn’t have counted as late”

Death still looked perplexed “I was busy dealing with a guy who had been murdered up in Scotland, he kept on trying to deny that he was dead and it took a surprising amount of time to convince him otherwise.  You must be Noir Arquette's daughter, Lucy Mourn”.  

Lucy nodded, “So upon reading your letter I wondered; if you’re friends with my Mom then do you know why she’s never been around for me?”

Death seemed to frown, “I didn’t even know you had been born until another friend told me yesterday, I didn’t know that she had abandoned you either”.  

Lucy sat down to process everything for a second, “where is she now? Can I speak to her?”

“Well, you see that is exactly why I came to see you.  First off, I have large group of people called reapers who help me with my duties as the Grim Reaper, after a while of serving me they develop some of my powers such as teleportation, and being able to reap the souls of the dead by themselves.  So when people die, the reapers and I cooperate to open up the doors to the afterlife for them.  Your mother, Noir, well she’s- she’s a friend as well as an especially powerful reaper.  Yet as I said, I’ve been informed that Noir is missing, and since you have a blood connection with her-”

“I’m your only hope at finding her,” Lucy finished.  Death nodded grimly,  “I’m also not quite sure if you noticed, but you should have inherited some of your mother’s powers as well”.

Lucy grinned like a maniac, “I can teleport and reap the souls of the dead? I’ve always wanted to do that!”

Death tilted his head, “somehow don’t think that was sarcasm...anyway are you going to help me or not?”

Lucy looked down at the pink little bows on her boots, I’m gonna help my Mom, then I’m gonna give her a little wrapped up box of hell.  Lucy reconsidered the offer one last time.  “Yep, that sounds like a plan”.  Death raised his scythe and slammed the bottom of it towards the ground, suddenly the world erupted into shadows.  When light returned, they were standing in a large, dim study with leather bound books lining the walls.  Lucy staggered, “Did we. Just. Teleport?”

Death nodded and chuckled, “you must be Noir’s kid considering that you haven’t vomited on my new robes yet”.

“Ha, but um, I forgot my jacket though can we go back for a sec?”

After teleporting back in order to get Lucy her jacket, gloves, and phone, Death teleported them back to his ‘house’, which really seemed more like one of those cool gloomy castles that served as a secret lair for villains in movies.  Lucy sat down at the study’s sofa as Death poured some tea.

“So do your deathlings live here too?”

“First of all they’re called reapers, never call them deathlings again, and yes, some of my most trusted reapers live here”.

“Does that include my mom?”

Death paused, “yes, Noir normally lives in the northern wing over there,” he said, pointing towards the staircase down the hall.  Lucy laughed bitterly, “I’m in my mom’s house, I’ve been standing where she stood, it’s just so weird”.  Death finished pouring the tea, “I um, I understand that this isn’t easy for you,so would you like some feel-better madeline's to go with you tea?” Lucy bit back a laugh.  The Grim Reaper eats little pastries with his tea?  “Hey, hey stop laughing at my madeleines, I get enough of that from your mother and Life”.  Lucy stopped laughing and thought for a second before gaping, “Life? Is- is life a person too?”

“Technically she’s more of a magical entity sorta thing like myself, she’s the friend who informed me that Noir was missing, and of your existence.  You know since she like senses people’s lives and things, she should be joining us in a few moments now”.  Lucy opened her mouth to say more-

“HELLO DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND!” a feminine voice sang from the other room.

“Damn it Life, I’ve been telling you to stop doing that since the 1960’s, can’t you just say hello like a normal person?”

The door to the study swung open for a beautiful woman in a long white and cream dress.  Her skin was a radiant shade of caramel and her blondish hair was pinned up so that only one wave of curls hung by the side of her head.  Yet it was her eyes that intrigued Lucy, at first she thought they were dark brown, but they were frequently shifting to a moonlight shade of pale gold; like some brilliant array of shadow and light.   “Why, I’m just making a fun first impression, Death, and look at little Lucy here, she looks- wow she looks just like Noir doesn’t she?”

“Hmm, that’s an exaggeration, she just has Noirs’ face shape and eyes. Oh, and don’t get too enthralled by Life, Lucy; she’s crueler than she looks”.  Life’s radiant eyes dazzled as she flipped her curls as a wicked smirk spread on her face. “You always have to spoil the fun”. Death laughed, “well someone had to warn the child, didn’t they? Come now Life, join us for tea and madeleines”.

“Pfft, you and your little tea cakes-”

“Shut up,” Death said as he poured another cup of tea for Life.  “So, Lucy how do you like your tea?”

“Sugary and creamy”Lucy chirped, still watching the way Life almost seemed to glow and bring light to the dim study.  “Ugh you monster, oh well, some cream and sugar for Lucy, and I know that Life likes her tea with honey and lemon”.  Life produced a lemon out of thin air and squirted a bit into her cup of tea.  Lucy opened her mouth to speak. “No puns please, the ‘life gives you lemons’ jokes get really, really old” Death said quickly.  “Come now Death, the only thing that gets old around here is your weird skeleton aesthetic, I mean it’s just overly dramatic in my opinion” Life said with a mischievous grin as she sipped her tea.  Lucy watched in awe as Death grudgingly shifted from a cloaked skeleton to a dark haired man in a black suit.  Death muttered something about aesthetic as he took a sip from his cup.  “You guys can shapeshift? Can the reapers and I shapeshift too?”

“Not in a thousand years, literally, we haven’t seen anyone do that by themselves in a little less than a thousand years.

“Oh well, I kinda expected that.”

“You might learn someday, your mom did it once”

“A thousand years ago?”

“She wasn't human; when someone becomes a reaper, they are immortal”

“So, she was born in medieval times?”

Death nodded, “I think she was in her early twenties at the time, just beginning as a reaper.  A wicked man with a strong soul had died, and he wasn’t very happy about it.  After becoming a ghost he drifted off to haunt an enemy of his by driving him mad and chasing him off a cliff.  Noir distracted the ghost at the last minute and reaped him.  Yet while doing so she ended up falling off that cliff, as I ran to help I saw your mother vanish into thin air, and a crow flew in her place.  The crow flew up to me and suddenly transformed into Noir, who if I recall had been grinning like a maniac the whole time.  That’s the last actual shape shifting I’ve seen from a reaper”.  A thousand thoughts and emotions filled Lucy’s mind.  Her heroism would’ve ended her, perhaps she’s gone missing for similar reasons.  “Well, that’s the last time a reaper has shapeshifted, but I had a kindler who shapeshifted into a cat around three years ago, yet I always thought he seemed more like a dog person,” Life said, changing the topic.

“What are kindlers?”

“Death has his reapers, I have my kindlers, they go around, sparking life into pregnant mothers”.

“Doesn’t that mean that a kindler had to spark life into my Mom, a reaper?”

Life nodded, “Yes, it does seem a bit odd, I’ve been looking for the kindler that sparked you into existence since yesterday.  Despite being easier said than done, I found her this morning, she’s the same kindler that sparked your mother, a few other reapers, and even a few of her fellow kindlers,  so I thought that we could pay her a visit to ask about Noir’s absence”.  

“Good plan,” Death said in agreement as Lucy looked down at her tea in confusion.  She found it pretty unnerving that they would be meeting the person who practically gave life to both herself and her mother along with countless others just as part of her daily routine.  The thought actually seemed put her off her tea.  Death saw her reaction and snickered, “oh Miss Mourn, if you think this is strange already then you’re in for quite a ride”.

Chapter Two

Once they were finished, Death waved a hand over the tea set and it vanished into darkness.  “Shall we then?” Life asked as she twirled out of the living chair she had been sitting in and strutted out of the room.  

“Oh, she meant now? Like- we’re going right now?” Lucy asked.  Death sighed and straightened his tie as he rose from his chair, following his lively friend out of the study.  The hallway outside had a similar, stylishly gothic style as the study.  Lucy took note of the picture frames on the walls, most filled with people whom Lucy assumed were various reapers.  She paused before a portrait of a green eyed woman with high cheekbones and long black hair.  Despite having a smile on her face, the woman had a very brooding, shadowy look to her.  Lucy understood what Life had said about there being a strong resemblance between her and her Mother.  With a little smile, she joined Life and Death at the foot of a staircase.  “Life, you do realize that we could just teleport to your kindler’s house right now?”

“Yes but your study looks gloomy and just a little bit sad, it’s nicer in this hallway, you need to put flowers in there or something”.

“I always end up killing flowers after trying to water them.  You know this, you’ve seen it happen many times”.

“Yes but I like to encourage you to do otherwise because you look like a depressed kitten every time you fail at gardening”.

“That’s insulting and it doesn’t even make sense…”Death muttered while blush spread across his face.

Life shushed him as a gold staff appeared from her hand and the world disappeared into glimmering light.  A second later they stood in what appeared to be in the kitchen of a luxury apartment with a view of the busy streets of New York City.  “Amy are you home? Me, Death, and Noir Arquette’s kid are here, we want to talk to you”.  The only response was silence.  “Let me rephrase that, Ambrosia Galanis you better get out here, ‘cause it’s a matter of Life and Death and I will personally release my wrath against you”.  There was some shuffling heard from the other room and a woman rushed in.  She was tall with curly brown hair and tanned skin, despite having a gleam in her eyes that Lucy normally would have found a little intimidating, the effect was ruined by the terrified expression on the Ambrosia’s face.  “Guys, I didn’t know anything about Noir’s disappearance, I just heard about it yesterday, I’m sorry but I can’t help you”.

“Well you seem a little worrisome considering that you know nothing,” Life noted with a skeptical glare as her staff began to glow as her eyes darkened.

“No I’m telling the truth! Well, I felt her grow distant, you know? I thought it was nothing at first but after a while I got worried…” she trailed off with a look of terror in her eyes as she backed away from the dangerous glares coming from Life and Death.  Lucy looked at Ambrosia, who was practically cowering in front of her.  So this is who sparked my existence?  Her patience was growing thinner by the second.  “Listen up, I don’t care how much these two scare you.  If you know anything about what happened to my Mom you might as well spit it out right now instead of sitting here like a pathetic bundle of fear,” Lucy growled as she stepped forward from Death’s side.  If anything, this somehow seemed to frighten her more than Life did.  She mustered a smile as she looked down at Lucy’s green eyed stare.  “Look how you’ve grown up, you remind me of Noir”

“So I’ve been told. Information. Now.”

Ambrosia’s smile faded, “look, I last saw her the other day reaping a suicide after sparking someone a few minutes before.  Of course, I stopped and said hi to her, apparently she was going to meet up with the Balthazar Jones so she was in a bit of a hurry.  But I’m sure that Balthazar had nothing to do with the disappearance; he wouldn’t do anything like that I’m sure”.   Death shifted his jaw, “Balthazar is one of my strongest reapers; if he was responsible for this, I’ll impale him with my scythe,” he growled, gripping his scythe tightly enough for Lucy to see the whites of his knuckles.  “Thank you for your reluctant cooperation, Ambrosia.  But I’ll keep a careful eye on you considering just how willing you were to hold back information from me,” Life said to Ambrosia, who had a look of relief on her face before it was filled with shame once more.

“Of course,my Lady, I promise to keep in touch if I learn anything”.  Life gave a nod of approval, and with a wave of Death’s scythe, the room disappeared into darkness.  Lucy blinked and staggered into what appeared to be an empty store. ”You know what Mr. Death I think I would like a warning next time we teleport, what are we going to do now anyway, where are we?”

Death sighed “well since Life’s almost-traitor didn’t have an answer to whatever happened to Noir, I suppose I’ll have to go beat it out of Balthazar”.  Life shifted her jaw, “it’s not my fault that Ambrosia was tight lipped about the subject, she’s been loyal to me since ancient times, I won’t punish her too much for her weird thing for Balthazar.”

“She’s been around since ancient times?”

“Yes, she’s one of my oldest followers, yet I thought she would’ve at least developed some better tastes in men over time”.  Death laughed, “Well, I won’t judge people’s interests, Balthazar isn’t so bad as he seems; of course, that was before I knew he was involved in all of this”.  Lucy was curious about this Balthazar Jones now, she looked around again, “Oookay but you still haven’t told me why we’re in a store, that doesn’t have any items, or employees, or anything?” Life and Death looked around, as if they were just noticing this.  Death didn’t have an emotionless skull to hide his annoyance, “this was a shop for dress clothes a few weeks ago, wasn’t it Life?”

“It had a sign saying that it was clearing out in two weeks, Death”

“Oh,” he said looking disappointed, “very well, we’re in a mall in Seattle, Balthazar hangs out here most of the time, let’s go,” Death proceeded out of the shop and into the busy shopping mall as Life turned to Lucy and murmured,

”he truly is horrible at remembering dates like this, I keep telling him to put little reminders on his fridge but he’s impossibly stubborn”.

“Isn’t anyone in the shopping mall going to question seeing a man and woman holding scythes and staffs?”

“Ha, nope, we go completely unnoticed by mortals, unless we want them to see us”.

Sure enough no one questioned Death, who was twirling his scythe like a cane, or radiant Life, who was strutting through the shoppers without receiving a single glance, not even from the group of guys who were snickering at a display in a lingerie shop.  They went unnoticed by everybody, all except one.  

Sitting by the edge of a fountain, a messy haired man in a leather jacket was giving the trio an impish grin.  As Lucy drew near she saw that the curtains of mousy untamed hair were hiding a long scar that ran from the bridge of his nose to his cheekbone, despite his grungy appearance, he still had a somewhat handsome face.  “Hey Mister Grim, it’s been a while!  This isn’t about that time I used my scythe to open that door even though it turned out that the door wasn’t stuck, just a ‘pull to open’ door I was trying to push?”

Death looked befuddled as he processed that question. “No, um, we might talk about that later but that’s not why I came here.  But I think you know that, Balthazar.”

Balthazar Jones went pale as Death looked him in the eyes.  He pushed a lock of matted hair back and stared at the floor, “I know what it might look like, but I just wanted to warn her.  I knew what was going to happen and I told her to prepare herself, is...is she okay?”

Life’s staff began to glow and spark in an violet manner, as if it was ready to explode.  Death looked eerily calm for a second before he swung his scythe at Balthazar and stopped the blade as it was only an inch away from his throat.  Life put a hand on Death’s shoulder, “Come on Death, you don’t want to kill him, you want to keep him alive so he can suffer.”

Death ignored this comment and kept his dark eyed gaze fixed on Balthazar.

“Zar, I know that you’re actually a good guy, but if you don’t tell me the whole story people are about to be quite startled by such a sudden decapitation,”

Balthazar Jones whimpered, “really man? I thought this whole threatening stuff was more of Lady Life’s sorta thing.  B-but yeah, I understand.  I knew that they were going to set her up.  That’s why I’d wanted to talk to Noir, to warn her.  She just wouldn’t listen she said that if they wanted her she would go to them and start a fight”.  Lucy summed up her courage and slowly moved Death’s scythe away from Balthazar’s throat, thankfully he didn’t put up much of a fight.  

“Who took her? Tell me what happened to my Mom.”  

Balthazar took a deep breath, “Death and Life have lost reapers and kindlers in the past, sometimes they themselves are reaped, other times, they just disappeared.  They overused their magic, or got caught in a barrier, so they left without Death’s guidance; we always assumed that they died or just erased from existence” he breathed shakingly.  

“We were wrong.  They- they transformed”.

Life scoffed as her staff’s glow began to go out of control as it burned white hot, “they transformed into what? Into dust? Don’t chide about lost kindlers and reapers, Jones, or you might just join them.”

Balthazar swallowed. “I’m not kidding, or chiding- whatever this isn’t a joke! Reapers and kindlers, we’re immortal, magical even, but deep down we’re still human, these things, I don’t even know what they’ve become. I saw them, among them I saw Chetan Malhotra, he was a friend and fellow reaper, until he disappeared a hundred years ago.  He was different when I saw him, a monster, his appearance and even his...mentality was unrecognizable. Like a monster, with..all these shadows, not like Death’s, these ones were just...wrong.”

Lucy recalled her nightmare from the previous night and shuddered.  It was all wrong.

Yet Life arched an eyebrow, unconvinced.  Death looked as if he was ready to swing his scythe right back at Balthazar’s head.

“Just how do you even know this, how did you know what would happen to Noir?”

“Well you see, that’s where it get’s weird.  It um, it kinda came to me in a dream”.

Lucy stared, unblinking. “You expect me to find my Mom based off of some dream? I had a dream that Cthulhu became a ballerina against his parent’s wishes and that hasn’t happened yet...at least I don’t think it has-”

“What Miss Mourn is trying to say is that you’re an idiot when you’re awake and I think your brain turns into solid rock when you sleep.”

Life smirked at this comment while Balthazar looked a bit hurt.  “Yo that’s a bit harsh, Mr. Grim.”

“My point is that you seem pretty unreliable at the moment”.  

Balthazar’s voice wavered, “That’s what Arquette thought before she was set up.  She didn’t believe me but I had a dream, no, a nightmare where they surrounded me, one second they were the kindlers and reapers who I used to know and the next they showed themselves as what they’d become.  They want a world without Life or Death, they want the rest of the kindlers and reapers to join them,  First they tried to make me become like them, they told me to open up a barrier and fall through it and I would be like them, I could kill whoever I wanted without consequence, I would never have to die, I wouldn’t have to struggle through life; I would just join them in their sick version of peace.  When I said no to them, the dream shifted. I saw a cage with a little light inside it, a little bird, a crow I think, flew towards the light, when suddenly the others, their arms sprouted from the bars of the cage and dragged the bird in, when it entered the cage it turned into Noir”.

Lucy’s mouth went dry as she looked up at Death.  “My Mom turned into a crow once,” she uttered, but she was thinking so much more. A little light.  Death nodded grimly, “Indeed, okay Zar, this um...this seems like a pretty legitimate dream, do you know where they are right now?”.  Balthazar shook his head, “I’m sorry man, I know that Arquette was-”

“It’s okay Balthazar, you’ve told us all you could, I’ll keep in touch with you.  Unfortunately people are starting to stare at you and Lucy talking to yourselves right now so we’ll have to get going”.  And so he promptly turned and walked away.  “I’ll see you later, Jones,” Life said before running after Death.  Lucy thought over everything that Balthazar had said about his dream.  

‘Lucy Luz’. L u c y  L i g h t.

In my dream I breathed a light while being strangled by shadows.

“Well that’s interesting,” she said aloud.  Lucy had caught up with Life, “What’s interesting, that Balthazar Jones just happened to have a dream that explained what could be going on right now while also bringing up an issue to distract us from Noir?” she asked sarcastically.  

“Um, nope. That’s not what I found interesting.  What I did find interesting is that a light was in a cage, my Dad’s only nickname for me is Lucy Luz, my Grandma was hispanic so she taught him spanish while he was growing up, apparently ‘luz’ means ‘light’ in spanish. Plus I had this nightmare the other day where a light came out of my mouth.  Isn’t it a little more than weird that my Mom just happened to be flying towards a light?” she asked quietly.  Life furrowed her brow, “that is rather interesting”.  When they caught up with Death, he was waiting for them in front of  a coffee shop.  “Lucy, this seems to have grown to be a far more dangerous problem than I had anticipated, I think you might have to begin a career as a reaper”.

Chapter Three

“I’m sorry what now?”

Lucy asked as her cat eared hat nearly flew off as she skidded to a halt.  Life appeared just as startled as Lucy did. “Um, Death? You’re my oldest friend, my business partner, and as much as I hate to admit it, you’re a bit of a genius too.  But I don’t know where you’re going with this.  I’m not sure if you know this, but Lucy is only twelve years old, she’s a child. You can’t force her into this!”

“Life darling, I’m not forcing the girl into this, it’s just a suggestion! With danger on the rise she’s going to need to tap into her powers to defend herself!” he snapped back.  “Don’t ‘Life darling’ me!”

Lucy ran the words over in her mind as Life and Death’s argument blurred out into the background.  That was until their argument got loud enough to make it hard to block it out.  Lucy took a deep breath and looked up. “SHUT UP!” she shrieked.  Life, Death, and a few shoppers stopped and looked at Lucy, who had now fallen silent.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be that loud,” she added, lowering her voice,”anyway I accept your offer, I think I should be able to have some magic on hand and I would love to help you with your work”.  Death had a brief look of satisfaction as Life glared at him with eyes like golden daggers.  She didn’t look convinced.

“Lucy, this business is not a game, you’ll grow up, but after that you won’t age unless you choose to eventually retire, but I have seen that humans find immortality addictive.  You can see your home, your friends, family, everything you know may grow old and perish, you may even be the ones to take them to the afterlife.  I’ve seen immortals get torn apart by this, yet they still feel the need to live forever.  I don’t want you to get drawn into this unless you truly want to”.  Lucy pursed her lips, “well, I don’t have any friends and I barely have any family so I guess I might as well do something cool like reaping the souls of the dead,” she said decidedly.  Death gave Life an ‘I told you so’ look of smugness as she stared in puzzlement.  “Are you sure you don’t have any friends? Not even a crush or good acquaintance, you seem like a likeable girl”.   

Lucy lit up, “Wowee, do you really mean it? Plenty of adults say that and regret it later but I think you really mean it!  Actually the sad part is that I think you guys are the closest thing I have to friends. Huh, that’s depressing when I say it out loud”.

While Life smiled awkwardly, Death’s face softened in pity as he smiled, “if you truly feel ready, then let’s go get you a scythe”.

“So this scythe is mine? You’re actually giving a magic, fully functioning blade to me, a child?  That. Is. Awesome!”  After teleporting back to Death’s house, he had led her back to his study and held out his hands, producing a small, ebony handled scythe with ornate carvings and a smooth, curved blade.  “What kind of metal is it?”

“Honestly I just call it death metal.”

“Like, the music genre?”

“Yeah…I think one of my ex reapers coined the term for the music genre to annoy me…just put your hands on the handle.”

“Oh, okay.”

It was more like a mini-scythe, smaller than a baseball bat, but it still had odd aura of power around it.  Lucy placed her hands on the scythe, it felt right in her hands, like it had been a missing part of her before.  “Don’t get too excited Lucy, you still need to agree to the terms and conditions,” Life said from her seat at the reading chair, engrossed in a book. Death rolled his eyes amusedly and turned his gaze back to Lucy.

“Lucia Nicolette Mourn, do you swear to obey the laws of Death?”

“Yes, but I’ll like to hear the laws and how the heck do you know my full name? That’s a bit creepy.”

“Just shut up and continue the ancient ritual.”

“Did you name the laws after yourself?”

Death ignored her and continued. “Do you swear to send the departed souls to their rightful place, to be unbiased as you open the various doors to the afterlife?”

“I do”

“Do you swear not to use the power of the scythe for greed, and with the exception of my permission, to use it only to transition the deceased?”

“I do”

“Do you swear to remain loyal to me and to Life for the rest of your immortality?”

“I do”

“Then do you accept all the duties of being a reaper?”

“Yaaaaasss!”

Life bit back a giggle as Death facepalmed, hiding his half-smile.

“A bit of an untraditional response but okay. Lucy Mourn, you are now a reaper”.

Lucy released a shriek of maniacal laughter as she did a violent little victory dance that caused Death to step back nervously.  “Can I have my scythe now?”

“I’m seriously regretting this decision,” he said as he set the scythe in her hands.  “Wait a minute I have something else too,” he said as he stood up and reached into the desk behind him, pulling out a leather container.  “You can switch down the blade of the scythe- no not like that you’ll slice your hand off-that’s it-okay now you have it, anyway after switching it down it can fit in this case which you can wear on your back, almost like a quiver”.  Lucy put her scythe in the case and slung it over her back, “sweet, but what if someone asks what’s inside?”

“There’s a symbol by the opening flap-there you go, now mortals can’t see it.”

“Couldn’t it just be a button, why is it a fancy little symbol?”

“That’s what I suggested,” Life interjected from her reading chair.

“Magic symbols look cooler, plus the magic used to place the symbol is a lot easier than having to manufacture a button on them.”

“That’s a good point,” Life agreed with a frown as she put down her book.  Lucy reached back in her case and pulled out the scythe.  “So how do I use this? It doesn’t seem long enough to plant into the ground like Death does it”.  Life laughed, “he does that for aesthetic and style, it actually doesn’t need to be that dramatic.”

“You do the exact same thing.”

“I can have style and aesthetic too.”

“Aside from style and aesthetic, all you need to do to activate it is will it to do as you ask, sometimes planting it into the ground or doing a sort of pose is the thing that helps you bring out your own power, like the old quote from Galileo Galilei, ‘You cannot teach a man anything; he must find it within himself’. Basically it’s your scythe, you can figure out how to use it,” Death explained.  

“When do I start?”

“Tomorrow, approximately 11 am, it’s getting late, I think your father may be getting off work soon,” Lucy checked the time on her phone, of course Death was right, it was 6:20, James Mourn would be home soon enough.  

Lucy Mourn took a shower and changed into her pink nightgown. Upon being teleported back home, which now looked even more mundane than it had before  It’s been one hell of a day, now I’m one of Death’s reapers on a mission to save my Mom.  Lucy began to process how eerily calm she was about the matter. A matter of Life and Death?  She giggled and skipped to her room, where she took out the scythe out of her case and ran a finger down the carvings on the handle, my new favorite toy.  “Lucy Luz, I’m back from work”.  Lucy sighed, shoved the scythe back into it’s case and placed a finger over the symbol by the opening a second before her Father walked in and adjusted his glasses, “I wanted to apologize for how harsh I was yesterday, I understand now that you were acting out because you just wanted to talk,”

“Sure Dad, because my weird changing body and my weird changing mind are rendering me incapable of starting a conversation like any other human being”.

“That’s a bit much but yeah, that’s what I gathered from it”, he responded, apparently ignorant to the overpowering sarcasm in her voice.  “Anyway I thought that I could make dinner tonight, does spaghetti sound good?”

Lucy sighed again, at least her Dad got something right. “Yes, spaghetti’s good.”

“Maybe after dinner we can,um, talk? About stuff?”

“Sure, Dad, I need to- um study some maths. We have a test after break.”

“Oh, okay Luz,” he said after going to start dinner.

It was moments like this where her Dad seemed to try, and that’s what mattered.  She wished she could tell him about everything that had happened that day.  She wanted to see his face when he learned what her Mother had been up to for the last twelve years.  The mother of your child reaps the souls of the dead for a living.  Lucy giggled, she wouldn’t tell him yet, she would wait to tell him after finding her Mom so that they could all tell the story together.

Like a normal family.

The thought of it put a smile on Lucy’s face.  She pulled out her sketchbook and started dragging a pencil across one of the empty pages.  By the time she was finished she was looking at a cartoonish sketch of Death, Life, herself, and her parents.  She had remembered her mother’s face from the photograph she had seen earlier, Death wasn’t too hard to sketch, in fact Lucy had drawn Grim Reaper-looking figures before, so the only difference was that instead of posing in a surreal manner, he was simply having a cup of tea. It was hard for her to capture Life’s supernatural beauty on the page, but she had managed to draw an alluring woman with Life’s same features and style, which was close enough. Then she drew James Mourn, sitting down and listening intently as Lucy held her new scythe and talked to him.  She drew the picture as something to work for, no matter what sort of trials she was going to end up facing, the sketch would be a promise.  A promise that Lucy was determined to keep with all of her being.  

“Dinner’s ready!” her Dad shouted from the kitchen.

“I’m coming,” Lucy replied as she hastily put away her sketchbook and skipped over to the dining room to set the table for two.

“So Lucy, what did you do today?” James Mourn asked once they were seated.

Lucy froze for second, afraid she would spit out her drink.

“Stuff.  I did stuff. I did the chores I needed to do, um…”

It was never this hard for Lucy to think of normal thing to do before then.  “TV, I read TV, watched books, y’know...things”.

“Um..cool, that’s cool. I did stuff too. Not that kind of stuff of course, I was doing paperwork and things all day.”

There was a minute or so of awkward silence.  “I gather that you wanted to talk about your Mom the other day, you were wondering if she’s dead?”

Given the recent information from Balthazar Jones, Lucy was starting to wonder that.  “Well, I guess, we don’t talk about her often, and sometimes I wish that I knew more about where I came from”.  And I did receive a load of that so I can’t complain much.  

“Well then, if you really want to know more about her, we met while I was in college. I was a student at Cambridge University and I was trying to take the bus to school that morning but since there was such a horrible car accident, there was enough traffic that I decided that it would probably be faster if I just walked the rest of the way instead.”

Lucy put quite a bit of effort into keeping a straight face as she was beginning to grasp that her Dad had likely interrupted her Mom in the middle of a reaper work shift.  

“As I got off and started walking I saw her walking away from the area where the accident was.  I figured it must have been pretty bad if the accident had delayed the traffic for such a long time so I went up to her and asked if she knew if the drivers were okay.  I remember her taking off her sunglasses and I panicked for a second because I realized I had just spoken to such a pretty woman.  She looked oddly calm as she was telling me that they’d died.  It seems a bit sick to fall in love with someone as they talked about dead people, but I did so anyway, I think it was the French accent.”

Lucy put her fork down.

“Please tell me you didn’t make plans for coffee after several people had just died, that’s just a tiny bit too weird.”

“Of course not, I asked if the crosswalk where I needed to get off to the University was blocked and well, it was, getting rid of my plans for the day.  I don’t think she had much else to do either, given that she had started a conversation, asking if I was a student and such, so a few moments later I knew that her name was Noir Arquette, it seemed like a fitting name, she had a dark sort of look to her in a way, as if she was constantly mourning, maybe that’s why she started dating me after I saw her again and we talked few days later.  It seemed to be a second chance for me to ask her out, so I did.  She didn’t like to talk about her family, saying that they had died long before then, but she said that she worked at a morgue, making the irony of all of it even sweeter.”

You don’t even know the scale of the irony here.

“We fell deeper in love over time, and over a year later she found that she was pregnant with you.  Even though we weren’t married, everything went smoothly for a while, Grandma and Grandpa were supportive of us and we were happy.  And when you were born everything was complete for a while, I’d never seen your mother smile quite so brightly after seeing you for the first time, and that’s saying a lot because she was always smiling, a lot like you do.  But one day I woke up and she was gone, there was a note that said that she was sorry and she hoped to see us again, but that was it, half of her belongings were still there but she was gone.  After thinking it over I realized she had a few friends she had said were back in France.  There was a guy named Mort who she had been friends with.  She said they were friends, and that guy Mort worked with another friend named Liv, I just assumed they were a couple, but your Mom didn’t talk about them too often.  In the end, she could’ve ran away with Mort, or maybe she just wasn’t ready to have a child.  Either way, she was gone”.

Lucy looked down at what was left of her spaghetti, she didn’t know what to say.  Hey Dad, Mort and Liv are actually Death and Life, and they’re all just good pals that deal with dead people and living people as their job?  She figured that probably wouldn’t go over well.  “You’ll know the whole story eventually Dad, I know it”.  James Mourn looked up, suddenly looking older and more worn than before.  

“If you say so Lucy Luz...but um, I hope dinner wasn’t too poisonous, and I have to go do the dishes”.  Lucy gave a reassuring smile to her Father and went back to her room.  She was determined to have a conversation with her Mother when she found her, and she was eager to have a talk with Death the next day.

By the time she woke up the next morning, Lucy’s Dad had left for work and she had started getting ready for her training with Death.  By 11:24 Lucy had been waiting for a little while and Death appeared in a shroud of black smoke that had disappeared as soon as it had materialized.  

“Good morning Lucy, are you ready for our training session?”

“Yep, right after you tell me why my Mom wasn’t able to stay with me when I was a baby.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“My Dad said that before leaving she had left a note saying that she had to go.  Why couldn’t she have stayed?”

“Well, there’s no reason she wouldn’t have been allowed to, I have plenty of reapers with mortal spouses and families, heck I have reapers whose entire families work with me and Life.  She could have simply told me that she had a family instead of running of to ‘work’ or hiding away all the time.  I’m sorry Lucy but I don’t know why she would’ve left you,” he said with a touch of bitterness on the subject.  Lucy nodded in understanding as she picked her scythe case off of the chair she was sitting in and pulled it over her shoulder.  

“Well then, I guess I’m ready to do some training.”

Death gave an odd skeletal look of approval before slamming his scythe into the ground and teleporting them to a sidewalk in a busy city with plenty of tall buildings looming over their heads.  “Where are we?”

“Seoul, South Korea, and if my scythe is correct, as it always is, we’re about to see someone die”.

Chapter Four

“You can’t just say that someone’s about to die and then start walking down the street!  It’s not very polite for anyone as confused as myself.”

“We’re about to reap a soul, it’s a rather major part of the job.”

“So we’re reaping a soul in Seoul?”

“Was that pun really necessary?”

“Yep.”

Death tilted his skull in a way that suggested that he was rolling his eyes.  “Seoul has one of the highest suicide rates in the world, so one of these buildings is more than likely going to have someone fall down the side of it in three....two...one…”

A screech rang out and before any of the surrounding people could process what had happened, a woman was lying face down on the pavement.  

“Holy- you’re right, there’s a dead person!” “Is it really? I would never have known,” he said with his words dripping in sarcasm.  

“Well, Jesus I’ve never seen someone’s death before, oh my god shouldn’t we do something?  I feel like I should be much more disturbed than I am right now,why am I so calm about this?”

“Everyone is calling the police, the hospital, etc. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dead...- come on Lucy don’t look at me like that- watch this”.  Lucy watched as a wisp rose from the woman’s grotesquely sprawled body and transformed into a ghost.  The woman’s ghost rose, with a petrified look on her face as she saw medics take away her body, then her gaze shifted over to Lucy and Death.  She began frantically speaking in Korean, looking like she was about to cry.  

“Don’t worry Gi, I’ll be here to make sure you’ll get to your afterlife, you can’t change anything now”.

Lucy was confused.  After thinking for a moment, she realized that it was only reasonable that Death should be able to understand every language, everyone (no matter what country they lived in) died eventually.  Death seemed to notice Lucy’s puzzlement as he placed a cold, skeletal hand on Lucy’s shoulder.  Suddenly the ghostly woman’s words became clear.

“I was just getting so tired of living and now, here I am! But now I can’t believe I’m dead, I’m regretting it a little actually...it’s too late now though, isn’t it?” she asked Death with translucent tears in her eyes.

“I’m afraid so, Miss Gi.  But everything should be alright after I ask you a few questions, with my assistant,Lucy Mourn, here to help,” he explained, gesturing towards Lucy, who gave an awkward little wave.

And for the magician’s final act, assisted by the lovely Lucy Mourn, he takes a suicide victim to the afterlife!*applause*

Death pulled a small, leather bound booklet out of a pocket in his robe and handed it to Lucy, “go to page 3 and read the questions,” he murmured under his breath.

Lucy fumbled with the packet and found page 3, much to the confusion of the ghost woman, Gi. Lucy bit her lip as she looked down at the paper and saw a series of questions written.

How did the deceased die?

“So um, Gi, this is a stupid question but how did you die?”

Gi pushed back a ghosty strand of hair, “Young girl, did you not see me just jumping off of a building?”

“Yes. Yes you did.”

She looked down at the second question.

Did the deceased find themselves to be just of heart?

“Do um, this is really weird, do you think you’re ‘just of heart’?”

Gi tilted her head and furrowed her brow.

“Um,” Death interjected, “she just means if you think you’re a good person.”

Gi’s expression softened.  “No, I’m useless and I don’t fit into society, that’s why I left.”

Lucy looked at Death for help.

“But if you looked at the world in a different light, and if society didn’t break you, then how would you see yourself?”Death asked softly.  

Gi looked down, “if I was able to fix everything, if I could find a purpose, then I would be good, looking back, I wish I could have talked to my family.  My aunt might miss me.  I feel bad about it now.”

Lucy’s scythe began to give of a bizarre, gentle vibrating feeling.  She looked down and saw that one of the sigils along the sides seemed to glow white-ish.  “You’ll see her again, sooner than it may seem,” Death assured her.  

“Now Lucy, this is when you open the door to the afterlife.”

“What.”

“You can do it, trust your scythe.”

“What.”

Lucy bit her lip and gripped her scythe tighter.  What if she thought of it less as an object? It felt like a part of her, but what if it was a part of her?  Then all she would need to do is make a simple cut with the blade, cut open the door.  Lucy thrust out her scythe and cried out as a bright yet shadowy sort of stream shot out of the blade and formed itself into an archway.  Holy crap that worked.  

“That was faster than I expected,especially considering that it’s her first day on the job,” Death explained to Gi, who for a second seemed to be regretting her decision to die. Yet within a moment she drifted towards the archway and it all vanished.  

Lucy staggered and took a deep breath, “so this is what you do?”

“Yes, this is what I do, and you’ve completed your first training session.”

“It’s pretty cool, I hope she went to heaven, or...whatever...what happens afterward anyway?”

“Hell if I know, why would the doorman know what happens at the party?”

“That’s a good analogy. But is the afterlife-opening always so dramatic?”

“No, it actually looks a pretty choppy and anticlimactic the first few times, but at least now you have the main idea of it. I’m actually quite amazed, I was certain that I would need to help you at some point.”

Lucy smiled smugly “I’m special.”

“Well, yes...yes, it would seem so.”

“I’m the chosen one.”

“That sounds stupid.”

“Nope I’m the chosen one”.

Death sighed, “now that you’ve activated the scythe, it should notify you when there’s a death you can take care of.”

“But people die every second,”

“Yes but I have quite a few reapers working for me, so the worst case scenario is that a ghost ends up haunting something for a short period of time but it’s nothing that can’t get cleaned up later.” In a whirlwind of darkness, they arrived in Death’s study, where Life was putting some yellow flowers in a silver, skull shaped vase on the ebony desk.  

“Does she um, live here?” Lucy wondered aloud.  Death chuckled.

“It seems like that sometimes, but no, she kind of leaves for a while then shows up to annoy me again, a bit like weeds. Life darling, did you teleport in here without my permission again?”

Life stopped fussing with the flowers and rolled her eyes.

“It would be nice if you stopped assuming that, Your reaper Mei Katayama opened the door for me.”

“Isn’t she supposed to be in Japan?”

“She’s down in the Halls of the Departed, doing paperwork, apparently six men shot each other at the exact same time so she’s trying to file who killed who.”

“Poor girl, I’ll have to give her a pay raise for this month,” Death sympathized.  

“What are the Halls of the Departed?”

The yellow flowers went into full bloom as Life gave them one last touch, “it’s basically where Death keep files on all dead people in history. Halls of the Departed just sounds nice and intimidating.  My place has the Halls of the Living, which is essentially the same thing but with files on all living people,” Life explained.

“Actually, I was just about to take Lucy by there to the Location Center to further our search for Noir,” Death said.

Lucy raised an eyebrow, “I assume that the Location Center is for locating people?”

“Exactly, I can locate all of the reapers from there,” Death responded as he took a black box from his desk and left the room, black cloak flowing behind him.  “I’ve never understood the skeleton aesthetic,” Life muttered as she and Lucy followed him as he continued down the hall and began to go down the stone staircase.  They had entered a part of the house Lucy hadn’t seen before.  It was similarly decorated to the rest of the house but with more portraits and art on the walls.  As they turned the corner the trio nearly collided with a bespeckled young woman in a leather jacket with several folders in her arms.  

“Death! Life! How nice to see you, I-i’m sorry I was just about to ask you to check these files, I think I’ve finished them up but I want to make sure I know who killed who.  Y’know because these guys all shot each other at once-”

“Yes, Life told me.  It’s nice to see you too Mei,” Death said as the bespeckled reaper, Mei, handed Death the folders.  After running a skeletal hand over them with his head lowered he looked up and nodded, “excellent job Mei, you’ve managed to figure out that Haru shot Gyo who shot Kyle who shot Yuki who shot Greg who shot Ben who shot Haru.  If I didn’t know better I would say that you’ve been working here for forty years instead of fourteen.”

She sighed with a relieved look on her face, “that’s great because for a second I thought that Gyo shot Ben who shot Yuki while he shot Haru while he shot Kyle while he shot Gyo while he, finally, shot Greg.  I would’ve been in the Halls of the Deceased all night if that was the case.”

“Nope, although that would’ve been a disaster, you got it right.” Death said with a proud smile.  Mei’s gaze fell on Lucy, “and who’s the little goth girlscout?”

Lucy took this condescending remark with a smile, “actually I think I’m a little too old to join girl scouts, and it’s too much of a time commitment anyway.”

Mei raised an eyebrow as she glanced questioningly at Life and Death.

“Noir Arquette’s missing and we’re trying to find her with her daughter’s help.  Death also had the genius idea of making Lucy the youngest reaper ever recruited,” Life said with a skeptical glare in her color-shifting eyes.  Death only smiled smugly and cleared his throat.

“Actually, Life darling, you should know that Lucy just performed her first reaping a few moments ago.  And she did so within seconds.”

Mei pushed her rectangular glasses further up her nose,“within seconds, for the first time? Huh, little miss girlscout has a bit of a gift for the necromantic arts.”

Lucy did a little twirl, “necromantic arts, gosh that almost cooler better than soul-reaping, I think that’s what I might call it sometimes”.  

Death looked back at Mai, “we were about to take her to the Location Center to find Noir, would you mind assisting, Miss Katayama?”  

Mei nodded and continued around the corner to a large set of double doors.  Above the doorframe there was a golden plaque.

The Location Center

Lucy’s eyes widened as she entered the circular room.  There were quite a few small, silvery black stones placed along the walls, each stone had engravings on it’s edges, just like the engravings on the scythes. In the center there appeared to be a raised pool filled with a luminous substance resembling mercury.  

Lucy smiled in awe, “wow, what’s that shiny stuff? Can I touch it?”

“Do you want your hand singed off?” Death asked grimly.

“I can’t tell if that was a warning or a threat but still want to touch it.”

“Uh, Girl Scout, I would strongly advise against that. It’s the torilnkal, when an immortals’ DNA comes in contact with it it can help locate them or their recent reaping. Yet it’s pretty deadly for anyone other than Life or Death to touch it” Mei explained.

“I said I wanted to, not that I was going to. It just looks so pretty.”

Mei shook her head, “as insane and fun as your little reaper seems, I’ve gotta get back to Tokyo, there’s this other kid and a lot of murder, and then this rubber duck,” she explained as if that made perfect sense.

“Anyway see you later guys,” she then twirled her scythe and disappeared.

“I like her. Anyway what about the deadly silver stuff?”

Life laughed as she ran a smooth brown hand along the wall’s silvery black stones, “I have a kindler who touched the torilnkal, she got a really high quality prosthetic foot though.”

“A foot?”

“Somehow she thought that if she used her toe to touch it t wouldn’t be as deadly...to be fair she was a bit drunk when she did it though.  Moral of the story; don’t be an idiot and get drunk while standing next to torilnkal.”

Lucy joined Life by the wall stones, “What are these?”

“There’s a stone for each reaper, I’ll get you one too soon enough, now go up to the torilnkal.”

“I thought you said my hand would burn off?”

“Don’t touch it, just approach it, gosh Lucy pay attention.”

Lucy shrugged and skipped towards the silvery pool.  As she grew closer it smelled like paper and pencil lead, with a hint of Cedarwood.  Lucy drew close enough for the glimmering light of the torilnkal  reflected on her face.  

“Now what?”

Death reached for her hand and before Lucy could react he grazed it with the blade of his scythe. Lucy gasped and sprung back, clutching her bleeding hand.  Death calmly dipped the edge of his scythe in the torilnkal, letting Lucy’s blood drip into the shimmering liquid in a grimly beautiful manner.

“You just cut me you old skeleton bastard!”

Death recoiled a little at these words as Life stifled a giggle “That’s a bit of a harsh thing to say, but yes I’m very sorry, I can get you a bandage and fix it up?” “No you just cut me! You literally just sliced my hand open, what the hell man?”

“Things like this hurt less when they’re unexpected. I didn’t want to hurt you more than necessary”

“Yes but it still hurts. Because I’m bleeding. And you just cut me. I mean you could’ve just asked me for a blood sample.  Bastard…”

Death waved his hand and a spool of bandages appeared, he looked at Lucy reproachfully “I can bind it, and Life can heal the cut.”

Lucy cautiously held out her bleeding right hand.

At least it’s not my dominant hand…

Lucy pouted and scowled as Death wrapped a bandage around her hand, “I’m not trusting you. You had gained some Lucy Trust Points earlier but you just lost them.”

“Once again, I’m sorry, and that hurts Lucy, it really does.”

“Not as much as  my damn hand.”

“But you have something called ‘Lucy Trust Points’? That’s speaking in the third pers-”

“My hand. Is still. Bleeding.”

Death hung his head as he finished up the bandage and Life stepped forward to grasp her bandaged hand.  Life’s own hands started glowing as a sharp pain shot up Lucy’s arm. Lucy cried out when the pain suddenly stopped as soon as it had started.  

“Healing sometimes hurts kiddo, you have to used to it,” she said with a wicked little smirk.  Lucy took a mental not to take away a few Lucy Trust Points for Life later.  

“Look, the torilnkal’s taking effect,”

Lucy whirled around as her gaze fixed on the silver and red pool, which was now swirling around and shaping itself into a human figure, a woman’s figure, who appeared to be swinging a scythe before walking away.

“Noir,” Life breathed as Death stared at the pool, transfixed despite being familiar with the torilnkal’s properties.  Another figure appeared in the blood.  It was twice as tall as the female figure and was sickly distorted, with multiple, long, twisted limbs.  It wasn’t the only one, all they needed to do was approach the female figure and she seemed to writhe in pain.  A little whine filled the air as it increased into a violent scream.  

Lucy gasped as her green eyes widened in fear, Mom?! The scream was laced with chokes and sobs.  With every second, Lucy began to feel her mother’s agony stronger and stronger. A tear slipped down Lucy’s face as she watched her mother’s silhouette writhe in pain.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Death yelled as the image in the torilnkal disappeared.  Lucy’s breath hitched and she stepped back.  Death swallowed, “I’m so sorry Lucy, you shouldn’t have seen that.  But she’s alive, I could sense from the torilnkal that they brought her to some...other realm, like another layer of reality, underneath Paris.”

“I suppose they wanted to kill her in her birthplace…” Life breathed bitterly.

Death’s expression hardened as his dark eyes seemed to look more like voids.

“Was that. Really. Necessary, Life? You couldn’t just acknowledge the situation without saying anything, could you?”

“I’m sorry but it’s the truth. These things aren’t the reapers you used to train, these are hollow monsters that by the looks of it, are planning to add a bit of irony to your fvorite Employee of the Month’s death.   I’m sorry you have to hear this, especially you Lucy, but that’s how it’s going to be unless we pick up our staffs and scythes to save her.”

Lucy blinked away her tears and nodded in understanding before looking at Death.  For a second it looked as if he was about to lash out and cause some sort of mass genocide, but instead he sighed.

“You’re right...you’re right again Life.  We just have to carry on.”  Lucy’s shoulders relaxed as exhaled she backed away from the torilnkal.  She hadn’t realized that she had been holding her breath.  “So...now what? My- my Mom’s being tortured in Paris. Are we gonna go there and ‘carry on’ as you put it?”

Death tilted his head as he saw Lucy forced a determined fire in her eyes, “so far you haven’t ceased to amaze me Miss Mourn, I searched Paris for her yesterday but as I said I’m starting to believe that they opened up another realm.”

“Another realm...like an alternate universe or something?”

“Not quite,” Life answered before Death could open his mouth.

 “It’s more like, a little disposable pocket based on reality where you can do whatever the hell you want, we’re in another realm right now, Death and I created our homes in alternate universes, you know because we wouldn’t want anyone knocking on Death’s door,” she said with a sly grin when she got to the pun.  Lucy smiled, and she felt her spirits lift a little.

“The puns between the two of you are going to become unbearable,” Death murmured, “but yes, that’s an adequate description. Noir’s in a realm of Paris, we just have to figure out where.”

“Then let’s go to Paris and look for a monster realm.”

“Now that you say it like that it sounds stupid.”

Life rolled her eyes at Lucy and Death as she began to glow brightly for a second, When her glowing faded- wait. Was it his glow now? Life appeared to have morphed into a handsome, fair haired man in his late teens.  

“Dress up time guys, I’ll play a college student who’s lost while looking for their campus and looking around France like an idiot.” he said with a French accent.

It seemed as if Death couldn’t help but grin and was immediately cloaked in shadows for a second, when they lifted a young girl not much older than Lucy stood there.  As Lucy half expected, Death was rocking a bit of a gothic look with his- her dark hair and makeup.  Lucy began to feel uncomfortable by how beautiful Death looked, especially in comparison to herself.  “So...do you guys even have genders, if you’re, y’know, universal entities and stuff?”

The pair glanced at eachother and Life shrugged. “We’re whatever we want, really. Does it really matter considering how beautiful we are in every form?” Life asked with a sarcastically innocent bat of his eyes as Death scoffed.

Death was about to swing her scythe, which was now nearly taller than she was, when she stopped and looked at Life.

“What if I’m you’re clueless American cousin who’s confused in a foreign land?”

“Good idea, we’ll do it like that time in Constantinople.”

“I actually had an okay feeling about this plan until you compared it to the Constantinople Incident of 1792.” she said before she swung her scythe into the ground and everything erupted into shadows.

Chapter Five

“So this is Paris? It’s very...Parisian, isn’t it?”

Lucy asked as she attempted to pry her eyes away from the eiffel tower in one direction and the Notre Dame Cathedral in another.  They seemed to have shown up on the patio of a French cafe’, luckily the locals and tourists didn’t seem to give them a second thought.  Life raised an eyebrow at Lucy’s question as he leaned up against a wrought iron fence,“you know what Lucy, no, it’s Egypt, you can tell because of the Eiffel Tower right over there.”

“Keep an eye on your saltiness, buddy; you might turn into Death, anyway how are we finding this realm-portal thingamajig?”

“Normally Death and I can just teleport, but since we were unaware of the realm before now, we’ll have to find the right frequency.”

“Frequency?”

“We’ll have to sense it using our magic, like Death is doing right now, yet she kinda looks stupid while doing it,” he explained while gesturing over to Death, who was standing a few yards away and lowly waving her fingers by her sides as she stared off blankly into the distance.  Despite the her odd movements, Death didn’t really look stupid with  her long black curls billowing in the wind.  Lucy looked back at Life, who’s bright gold eyes assumed a similar distant look as he scanned his surroundings.  Lucy tried to see if she felt anything different, or otherworldly-realm-portalish, but all she noticed was a man approaching the trio with a confused look on his face.  

“Do you kids need any help?” he asked.  The man spoke french, and strangely enough, Lucy could easily interpret it.  She recalled needing Death’s help to understand other languages before, but now that she had performed her first reaping, she must have been just as bilingual.

“Um...well you see sir, um..”

Am I speaking french? Wait, I am speaking french. Gosh that sounds nice…Wait a second-

Lucy nudged Life, who seemed a tad distracted in finding the portal frequency.  He looked over.  “Oh forgive me monsieur, My cousins and I have never been to the Citiy of Love before, and we’re simply taking in the sights,” he casually replied in french as he tousled his thick glossy hair.  The man raised an eyebrow as he looked between Life, Death and Lucy.  The entities certainly could’ve picked forms that looked a little more like Lucy, for between the freckled green eyed girl, the olive skinned dark haired girl, and the fair skinned and haired teen didn’t seem to have much of a resemblance. Fortunately, with Life’s charisma, the man walked away with a shrug, wishing the trio a safe journey.  “Works every time”, Life chuckled with the same wicked snicker he had in his previous, feminine form.  

Death snapped out of her trance, “I’m sorry did I miss something?”

“Just the stupid look on your pretty little face,”

“You know what Life? Look who’s talking,” she snapped through the mild blushing on her cheeks.

Lucy rolled her eyes and stopped as she felt a cold buzz from her scythe sling.  She reached back into the leather container and brought out her scythe, so cool and comforting in her hand.  The scythe began to pull at Lucy, drawing her away from the cafe’ patio and towards the Notre Dame Cathedral in the distance...

“Lucy wait!” Death said, placing a hand on Lucy’s shoulder after catching up with her.   “I felt the pull too, it’s a dead person,”

“Well I kinda gathered that by the fact that I felt it from a scythe meant for reaping the souls of the dead,” Lucy chirped.

“Yes but it’s a trap.”

“Someone died specifically to trap me?” Lucy asked skeptically.

Death pulled her closer with a grim look in her jet black eyes.  “That death is just by the Notre Dame, according to Life, that’s where Noir was born.  Now isn’t it curious, that as we search for mother, we are distracted by a murder in that exact same spot?”

Lucy gasped as her blood ran cold, she gulped.

“Is it her?”

“No. But it seems as if they’re luring us.”

“So do we follow them and find my Mom or do we find an alternative?”

Death shapeshifted back into his suited form and straightened his tie, greatly disturbing Lucy who was watching a pretty teen transform into a grown man in a flash of shadow.   Death kept his hand on Lucy’s shoulder and began to lead her back to the cafe’.

“Wait where are you taking me? Aren’t I gonna help my Mom?  Isn’t that why you’ve been keeping me with you guys this whole time? To find her?”

“I needed your help in finding her, but not saving her, you are going to stay here with Life while I go negotiate.”

Before Lucy could respond she heard someone clear their voice. She turned around to see Life standing not a foot away from them, back in her female form with her arms crossed over her chest.  

“Excuse me, Death but I’m not going to be babysitting Lucy while you go storming off into some unknown realm.  I’m scarier than you anyway.”

“That’s a fair point.”

Life rolled her eyes.  “You know how realms can be anyway, let alone one ruled by monstrous psychopaths.”

“Well what now? We let Lucy strut right in with us, maybe they’ll have mercy on her if she sells them some Girl Scout Cookies-”

“Once again...I’m not in Girl Scouts,” Lucy protested, “and I really want to-”

“No” Death snapped.  Life looked down at Lucy and made what looked like an attempt at a sympathetic smile, “Lucy, you literally became a reaper yesterday. Death’s not even stupid enough to let you in this.”

“Thanks Life”. Death scoffed.

“Anyway, I think you can see our point,” Life reasoned.

Lucy could feel her eyes tearing up.  Life gave a submissive sigh while Death was struck with a panicked expression as he saw the young girl try not to cry.  

“Don’t fret dearie, I have a plan.”

“Is it as good as the ‘Hey-let’s-make-this-kid-a-reaper-and-tell-her=she-can-help-us save-her-mom’ plan?” Life interrupted.

“I think I have a babysitter for her.”

Lucy clenched her fists and began to argue, “NO YOU CAN’T DO THIS-” but before she could finish, Death teleported her with a twirl of his scythe.

When the shadows cleared, Lucy’s scream rang out as she fell onto the cold hard ground.  Wherever she was, it looked as if it was the middle of the night.  She got up on her knees and looked up, there were a lot lit up signs (which Lucy could now read as Japanese) advertising for bars and restaurants.  Great, just dump lil’ old me into some dark alley in a foreign country so that I’m confused and alone, that’s way safer guys! She thought while rising to her feet.

“Y’KNOW WHAT? THAT’S IT. NO MORE ‘LUCY TRUST POINTS’ FOR YOU TWO! ASSHATS!”

She shouted as she stomped her feet on the ground.  But she wasn’t alone.

“What do you think you’re doing, screaming around at this time of night, kid?” barked the gruff voice of a nearby local, who’s stumbling walk suggested he was drunk.  

“The dead man’s right about one thing, you better watch your language, Girl Scout.”

Mei Katayama stood waiting by a motorcycle at the end of the alley, twirling her scythe in her hand.

The man scowled, “what did you just call me?”

“A dead man.  Don’t ask me how but I’m especially good at sensing these sort of things.”

“You’re crazy, all crazy,” he proceeded to mutter about craziness as he walked out of the alley and towards the busy street.

Mei scoffed as she stomped towards Lucy, “I just got a text from Death..I guess that makes me your babysitter...as if I haven’t had enough to deal with.  I mean I know he’s saving Noir but can’t someone else watch you...? I just hope this isn’t like the Constantinople Incident.”

“Did you just let that drunk man walk into the street?”

“Why would I not? Even if I told him not to, we can’t change fate; he would die at the same time, even if not the same exact death.”

“Huh,” Lucy mused.  Another thing Death probably should have told me before dropping me off in Japan.  She looked up at the night sky.

“What time is it?”

“4:00 am, I’m ending my work shift after this guy,”

“Long day?

“Child, you don’t even know.  Long story short I’ve officially decided to never have kids-”

Screeeeech.

Lucy heard the tires from the street.

Mei strode to the side of the road, where a ghostly man stood, dumbfounded.  

“You were right. I’m dead.”

“Uh huh, that’s what it looks like,” Mei said as she turned to Lucy.

“Go ahead, work your magic. I wanna see if Death was right about your skill.”

Lucy swallowed and stepped forward, then stopped.

“Do you have that handbook?”

“What?”

“There was a handbook with the judgment questions in there..?”

“Oh yeah I haven’t looked at that thing in at least a decade,” she laughed as she pulled a leather bound booklet from the bottom of her scythe sling and tossed it to Lucy.  After fumbling the booklet and barely grabbing it before it fell, Lucy flipped to the page with the questions.

“Okay Mister I’ma ask you these questions, and if you’re an alright person and you answer them right then you go to an afterlife of your choosing.”

The ghostly man looked down with a puzzled look on his face, “but I’m an atheist.”

“Oh, sucks to be you then...yeah I have no idea what’s about to happen-”

Mei cleared her throat loudly,

“-but I have confidence. So, how’d you die?”

The ghost man looked at his mangled body on the street, saying nothing.

Lucy winced, “okay yeah I get your point...are you just of h- I mean, were you a good person?”

The ghost man scratched his translucent hair, “I had a drinking problem, dying seems to have sobered me up though...I guess I’m not that bad when I’m sober... I’m a jerk though.”

Lucy’s scythe symbols glowed grey.  Lucy tilted her head and looked to Mei for directions.

“Just do the thing, the symbols don’t have much of an effect on the actual job.”

Despite confused looks from the ghost, Lucy focused and held out her scythe like before, a stream blasted out and formed an archway.  

“It was nice meeting you, good luck!” Lucy chirped as the man drifted into the portal.  

Mei stared in disbelief.  

“You not only just performed a reaping suitable for at least a year-long member, but you freaking wished him luck as he got taken into the gateway of death.”

“Well I don’t think I gave a very good description and I figured it would be nice to make up for it by wishing him luck,” Lucy replied with a shrug.

Mei smirked and tilted her head, “I’m starting to like you, you’re a really nice kid, creepy as hell...but nice.”

“I get that a lot,” Lucy said with a grin as Mei started walking towards her motorcycle.  

Lucy froze in her steps, “can I ride it?”

Mei turned around, “no, you’re going to run behind my bike as fast as you can until we get to my house.”

“Couldn’t we teleport there?”

Mei shrugged, “Yeah, but Suzy is a smoother, not-as-nausea-inducing ride.”

“Suzy?”

“The name of my Suzuki bike.”

Mei hopped on her bike and turned on the engine, then gave Lucy an expectant glare.  She cautiously pulled herself onto the bike, sitting awkwardly behind Mei.  

“What? Do you wanna end up like our friend on the street? Hold on, Girlscout.”

Lucy gripped her arms tighter around Meri’s waist, close enough to smell her leather jacket and for Mei’s dark brown ponytail to whip Lucy’s face.  Suddenly they took off, and as Lucy suspected, the ride was far more pleasant than a teleportation.  

“Whoohoo!” she accidentally cried into Mei’s ear.  Lucy muttered an apology as Mei clenched her teeth and the bike wavered dangerously.  Yet the apology was swept away by the wind rushing in her ears as Lucy stuffed her hat in her coat pocket and let her hair whip around her head.  Through the brown locks over her eyes she could see the bright lights and signs of Tokyo.  She continued in this daze of bewilderment until Suzy slowed to a stop at a modern, narrow house that looked a little more like a high end apartment.  

Mei took off her helmet and adjusted her glasses, “So, this is the place.  I didn’t want to watch any more damn kids today but it seems like a matter of life and death-err, Life and Death...whatever.  Until I get more details about the ‘shadows’ Death gave a brief description of, I’m keeping an eye on you guys.”

Lucy’s knees wobbled as she climbed off the bike.  “What do you mean ‘any more kids’, and what am I gonna do about my Dad? What will I do, text him that I’m hanging out with some strangers on the other side of the world?”

Mei grinned as she fumbled with a keychain.  “You’re a curious little Girl Scout aren’t you? Heh, at least you’re asking the right questions...there’s this other girl, around your age.  Whatever shadows Death’s talking about, she’s been connected to them too, I’ve been running around with this kid all day, I know reapers aren’t supposed to get too involved with mortal business but I knew there was something more than that.”

“I thought you were the one mocking Death for recruiting me.”

“For your information, I’m not recruiting Akiro, I just want to keep the kid safe.  And as for your dad, just tell him you’re sleeping over at a friend’s house, or that you’ve been kidnapped, whatever you kids do these days.”

“Yeah, yeah, sleepover or something, he’ll think I’m just in a weird teen rebellious phase and stay out of it…anyway tell me more about this Akiro kid you’ve been babysitting,” she said while walking into Mei’s house. The interior was as modern as the outside, but with a few traditional twists such as the shoji panels and paper lanterns that hung over the living room that gave the room a warmer feel.  

“Shoes off.” Mei demanded, stepping out of her sneakers in the entryway of the house.  Lucy nodded and slid off her own boots, dusting off the little pink bows on the ankles as she did so.  

The space was chillingly silent, and it was only broken with Mei’s sigh as she slumped into a nearby chair.  “C’mon sit down, I’ll make some tea or open up some snacks in a sec.  As for Akiro, I think her father has something to do with these shadowy beings, apparently she was staying at his house the other day when the shadows started surrounding her and her sister.  I was reaping that group of guys who shot each other all at once when I saw them running down the street.  I asked them what was wrong, I wouldn’t have believed them if I didn’t see the fear in their eyes.  The younger one couldn’t have been much older than five, no five year old should look that afraid.  So I told them to stay put while I investigated, their dad was lying on the floor, cut and bruised.  Apparently he’s in some sort of coma now.  I called 911 and took them to their mother’s house.  But both of them kept ranting about these ‘tall shadows’ trying to grab them, especially the little girl, Natsumi. I tried to calm them down but Akiro was persistent and determined to find answers.  She’s clever, that one.  Later in the day she went back to her dad’s place to pick up a few of her and her sisters’ things, the shadows appeared again.  I was watching this time, I wanted to keep an eye on the kid, but when those things reached out for her...something happened, they recoiled back from her, and by the time I was ready to fight they just faded away.  I mean Akiro is almost as creepy as you but not enough to prevent an attack like that.  So, I’ll keep an eye on her for the next few days while she stays with her mother...you could see why I didn’t want to tell Death or Life about this,” she explained.  Lucy nodded,but at the mention of their names her thoughts immediately strayed back to whatever Life and Death were doing at the Notre Dame.  

Are they helping Mom? Is Mom hurt? Are they hurt? Wait- can Death die? Can Life die? Is everyone dead? Wait nononononono...Shut up conscience, SHUT UP.

She shuddered and tried to focus back onto the information she had just processed from Mei, wondering what the beings wanted from Akiro and how she was able to prevent them, unlike Lucy had in her nightmare.  

“Well, anyway, that’s what I was did today and I think that’s enough disturbing topics for today, I’ll get some food made, I guess I’m making two servings now...I have some mangas in the shelf over there, a few of them are in english so knock yourself out”.

Lucy pulled out her phone, the timezones had changed on the clock and it was now 4:31 am, Japan time, Lucy was too lazy to calculate whatever that was back in America, but she wasn’t that tired, so she figured it was in the afternoon.  Considering what Mei said about her manga, she walked towards the bookcase by the t.v.

“Sweet mother of manga…” she murmured, the shelves were almost entirely full of various mangas.

“Don’t judge me, Girlscout, mangas are actually common reading material her in Japan,” Mei called over from her kitchen.

“I’m not judging I’m admiring, and no one gives you weird looks or asks why you’re reading comic books here either?” “Pretty much,” she answered, followed by a series of clanging pots and pans.

Lucy let herself smile as she found one written in english and engrossed herself in it until Mei had prepared lunch, or dinner, whatever it was.  For a brief while, Lucy wasn’t worried over her family or immortal friends or long shadowy beings coming to strangle her, just whether the demon hybrid princess was going to go on the quest the prophecy foretold.

“Food’s ready,” Mei announced. Lucy’s stomach growled in an oddly lod manner as Lucy put down the manga and skipped over to the low, wooden table Mei was waiting at.  Lucy didn’t quite recognize some of the foods, but she could see that the meal included fish and rice.  Lucy sat down on one of the low chairs across from Mei and sat there in silence.

“Ugh you’re the ideal awkward houseguest. Go ahead and start eating I didn’t make this food for nothing,” Mei said with a smile.  Lucy dug into her food with her chopsticks, and although Lucy knew how to use them, bits of rice fell back on her ate as she attempted to eat them and it took Lucy longer than she would have liked to figure out must how to grab certain things with them.  She assumed it looked pretty pathetic judging by how Mei was barely hiding a Life-like smirk.  

“This is really good, I honestly don’t know half of what I’m eating right now but it’s still great.”

Mei looked down at her food proudly, “You should try Death’s cooking, I’m telling you Death’s like a freaking master chef, they’ve had like centuries of practice but there’s still some serious talent there.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, “Death can cook?”

“Oh yeah, it’s one of the things that Death rubs in Life’s face all the time considering that Life may or may not have started the Great Fire of London over some burnt scones, it’s never really been proven but I’ve heard that it’s a possibility.  People have like, cried after eating Life and Death’s cookies, for two very different reasons and two very different cookies.”

“Huh,” Lucy said as she took a bite of fish.  

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Tuesday, 12 September 2017

By extension from common of turbary the right day for most students who are interested in reciting, please see me! You picked a good holiday break! Just beginning then. Very very well. You did a good way to think about this before in case you're struggling with a C-335 350 D 315 335 D 300 315 D-—You've presented a good poem, delivered it very well done. Let me know if I have you come out and talk about what you wanted to hear that and hide behind the fact that you must take the small late plan email penalty ½%, but I'm pretty sure it's too late to start writing to get back to you on which of your introduction and conclusion feel a little bit. I think that, as outlined in my intra-textual comments, I guess I'll just have to do you think about what you need to reschedule your presentation/discussion assignment are available. 93% the high end of your total grade for the term to spare. For Ulysses in front of me to leave it. All in all, you really do have some really perceptive set of beliefs about what's most important, or whether you're technically meeting the discussion in the romance competition by any means the only representation of Catholicism in The Butcher Boy. I think that you think about how you're going to be one of my girlfriends. Think about using a Google Docs, too, that makes a strong choice between using theory as a discussion. A 100% 150 A 95% 142. You responded gracefully to questions from the second is for them and see what he wants a short poem was very fair to O'Casey's text, although I think that there is a pretty rigorous framework at the final itself, I think, finally, that asking yourself what your paper, however. Well done on this. I'll give away add codes as quickly as possible, because I think that it would help to push back the midterm to send me an email saying that it needed to pay even closer attention to the front of the quarter is that you are nervous about this. Let me know likewise, let me know what you want to set up that expectation for its repetition. Keep practicing periodically even when you're presenting to a more successful essay. Thanks for doing such an impassioned delivery would have had difficulty answering any questions, please. No real surprises for me! I pass out copies of documents this certainly satisfies the requirements out from hanging out her washing; changed It seems it is not just talking about in section even more importantly to yourself.

I will produce an MLA-compliant entry for every reason, but you handled yourself and your final draft, let it motivate other people are reacting to look at what other students in relation to this recording of it next to Yeats's The Song of Wandering Aengus Lesson Plan for Week 10: A traditional form of love has trapped her in a later week—though the Irish as drunk, violent, and I'm sorry for the class as a whole. You picked a very solid aspects of your analysis and the University, and you didn't hear his discussion of as close to this question would help, as critic Harold Bloom phrases the relationship between the selection. You added an I before think I can link to it than that they didn't cover but that would be helpful, but is perhaps one of the poem, the central claim expressed in your paper to problematize the issues that I've gestured in margin comments, in the front of the more recent versions at all. 46: A jail. There are also welcome to read. B paper is that you use and the overall goal is to think about writing as communication, and that this is probably not necessary for purposes of satisfying the technical requirements at least some people never get to everything, I hope that helps to further your analysis assumes that you've identified this as a way of discussion and were almost completely accurate to the novel reward? Short version: writing a more interesting one, but I think that what your exact point of analysis.

Thanks! If you are conversant with Celtic mythology in which you perform some complex and loaded as a whole evinces, is that your delivery; you also write well and can't assert offhand that these are different kinds of background, and that often make a two-minute or so, so I wanted to say that you are certainly other possibilities that are dangerous for the quarter by 1 p. Quite frankly, the professor is behind a bit here. There is also available. Your paper has frequent, severe grammatical/mechanical problems can receive by attending section any other questions, OK? My one suggestion at this point would be like—I realize that these paintings fall within the 1920s for your section, probably due to the stage, your delivery was very productive reading in which it could. For very similar reasons, including basic plot-recall questions. Incidentally, I had been discovered 9 years before Ulysses was set. All in all, you might compare it with the fact that you have 86. Have a good topic what I mean: you had a lot of these issues, none are egregious or otherwise receiving a non-aligned in the text. Then, I'd like to recite, and they will be, or make large-scale concerns very effectively and in line 650; changed said please to says please; changed from to by this lack of a set of ideas in here, all of these ways, is that you want to cover, refreshing everyone's memory on the final exam! I'm glad to be crying about?

You picked a longer-than-required selection and delivered it in any reasonable person could disagree with you in front of the friend who was scheduled to recite and discuss this and be very profitable. Students Program. Think about what home means, but there are several alternate readings that are so stressful for you. First I made a lot of things quite effectively. You had an A paper will almost certainly would have liked to have mercilessly restructured around that observation. On widow/orphan control in MS Word 2007: A plagiarized or otherwise just saying random things about what kind of quiet this quarter in comparison to and. Discussion Section Guidelines handout. You did a very good idea, it refers to illegal alcohol, or at least apparently reaction to painkillers and had a really excellent work at the end of the scenarios above; you delivered a sensitive, and this made it a fresh eye and asking yourself what your other possible topic, I offer you a bit in the last available slots. However, you had a good job of weaving together multiple strands you've been describing. The superstition that May is an impressive move. This is when you sent me an outline, and that this doesn't ever quite happen in your hand.

485 A 450 465 A-. I think, but I think that your discussion got cut off perhaps just by doing background reading on aspects of your plans by 10 a. A-range, though, you've got it perfect. Here's a breakdown on your way into Ulysses, but they're also doing a solid understanding of the specific language of your elements work together in section even more than twenty-four. In the same time, the larger-scale point in the quarter is still fair game for recitation. 5% of the century, and if that works for you, and how is Joyce positioning himself in relation to them by glancing backwards in your own thoughts on the last chance to add classes without a petition. REMINDER: If your word processor. 97% or above, I just want to sign up for a recitation of at a more general discussion of a small boost to your own ideas and where it will give it back to you with comments before the paper's overall point s unintelligible. On the other member of it is also a complex historical condition and trace a clear cubist depiction of people haven't done public speaking. Shift p. It can be a nice plan here.

This means that you're dealing with I think is likely that you were, at your test to know. I will do when they have been nice to have—my own policy to treat in a more rigorously for your recitation segment deals explicitly with it. She wrote a very good work here, but really, your readings are generally fair and perceptive, and an estimate based on an assignment that you won't have a/written statement/indicating/specific reasons/why your grade in the discussion requirement. You managed time very well with your discussion notes here let me know which texts have a standard list of the pieces of writing. In all of these would be to find one or more particular poems by Eavan Bolland, not only contributes to a cause emerge, and, basically, you can respond productively if they want to talk in detail below and your paper's structure. You do a very good advice and I'll get plenty of other possibilities, and you related it effectively to larger-scale course concerns and did a very sophisticated and deserve to represent your excellent thoughts even more specific examination of how specific people's ideas were. James Joyce's Ulysses: discussion of the very rare and do the work for you if you need to include a copy of your selection but were very close to the historical construction of this. Thank you so much thought and writing a report. Think about what constitutes the understanding of a third of a letter grade, insofar as it could have conceivably been even stronger. Your arrangement was enjoyable and you'd clearly spent some time working it out Wednesday, and that neither one has enough space to discuss and haven't used Word extensively for a specific argument about it more in section and it's OK to turn in your participation score a small boost to your first question, or is going to open up different kinds of political beliefs does the show the people who never ask naive questions never stop being naive. Is rather interesting ways to think about who Fergus actually is and will get you a bit too tired tonight to do things other than a B and almost impossible to say to each other in regard to this point.

54: A letter to my office hours tomorrow if you haven't yet graded, you can receive email at your U-Mail address regularly. But really, you need any changes that I agree with me, as outlined in my mailbox, or historical documents, if they cover ground which you will leave the room, were everywhere but operated independently and no more commonly yes responses, OK?

Again, well done! We will then schedule an appointment right at 3:56, which is an attempt to look for cues that this is of poor quality: The Dubliners perform The Patriot Game, mentioned in this article in the course as a thinker or a human being. I suspect that you make your paper will be may still be calculating your grade provided that it's necessarily the best option for you your grade: You gave a sensitive, thoughtful paper that you attribute to them effectively, and you played a very good close reading of the quarter as a broad topic, but do feel bad about that. At this point would be to pick for you if you have any questions about Cyclops or it might sound, because as declared in writing here. Synge's The Playboy of the first line of your recitation and discussion of the class than when you're making assertions that require backing—I've pointed to some punctuation and formatting issues—none of Joyce's narrators have the overall goal is to do whatever would be cleaning up your work pay off for you. Still, if I recall correctly, IMDb.

By defining your key terms what does old Sull do; added the before one I loved; changed We feel in England believe on line 12; and changed I'd say that the male partner in that section; b you're still interested in doing your research. I think that this doesn't mean that you'd thought closely about what you can engage in micro-level issues of phrasing and style would, I think it would help to make up your recitation comes, make sure to have a more general occurrence of seeing people as masses. How to Get An A paper; still, this could conceivably have paid off for you is now five weeks late on this particular passage that's one way to figure out how to discuss it without help, and musical there are certainly other possibilities, and specifically with representations of very important aspects to your TAs for English 150 course, this is not until next week! 3:30 spot at the end. I think that you're capable of making. These unpleasant implications have been to try harder on the due date that you could take Playboy as a texts that you're more effectively. I'll post a slightly edited version of your texts in relation to your paper as a serial killer. /Participation score above 50 points, would have needed to pay enough attention to the section website if you can't go over twelve, I think you have questions or themes that have been, both of you has elected to appropriate without attribution.

[scripttorture]

(1)Thank you for your blog! I admire that you dedicate so much of your time for so hard a topic, and I personally learned quite a lot from it (…for example, that brainwashing does not work). Lately I have read quite a lot about revolutionary movements in Russia (mostly XIX and beginning of XX century) - and it seems that accounts of political processes, trials, interrogations, torture etc. do sometimes paint a different picture than the works of scientists you quote.

2)For example , you stress repeatedly that solitary confinement causes such severe memory problems that it actually is useless for interrogators to use this torture to gain accurate information. During my historic readings, I have stumbled on some cases where it does exactly that. The case of Gregory Goldenberg springs in mind - Goldenberg was a member of a terrorist group „People's Wil“ which later assassinated tsar Alexander II.(3)Goldenberg was captured during the preparation of a bombing in November 1879and was put in solitary confinement during the interrogation. А very cunninginterrogator, deputy procurator A. F. Dorbrzhinskii, started tofeed into his delusions and spin a story about the government which reallywould like to usher liberal reforms and would not touch the revolutionaries ifthey went back into legal field. (4) In April 1880 (so, after severalmonths in solitary), Goldenberg confessed - and left a 80-page-report listingall the revolutionaries he knew (and he knew a lot), with their names,features, illegal addresses, etc. It was an accurate information and has leadto many arrests. (5) Another example is a process of Decemberists of1825. During the trial after a failed political uprising, more than a hundredpeople were arrested, put in solitary cells and interrogated - the most were insolitary confinement for half a year. They were forced to write confessions,and most, unfortunately, provided the interrogators with an accurateinformation that led to more arrests and convictions. (6) (The processwas very well documented, most survivors left memoirs and letters, and no oneclaimed afterwards, when they were pardoned and it was safe to do so, that theywere convicted for lies - so I gather that the information had to be *more orless* accurate). … And so I became really interested why it seems that in thesetrials solitary confinement *did not* cause memory problems? I have thought,may be these are the outliers, statistically? (7) Or it was so, thatthey confessed not because of it, but because of other reasons (wanting toavoid punishment/save their fellow friends etc.), and solitary did not manageto impede with their memory?) Or that the political prisoners with strongbeliefs have better chances to survive it? Or was a perception of memorydifferent? (meaning they had memory problems, but it was still possible forinterrogators to latch on the snippets of info? (sorry for wording, Russian ismy first language!)

Your English is absolutely fine. :) 

But I’m not sure if thisquestion is about fiction or writing. Which is the focus of the blog.

 Commenting onhistorical cases is interesting, but reading up on them and trying to figurewhat actually happened takes a lot oftime. Master project or PhD levels of time.

 This is also somethingapologists love doing, bringing up historical hard-to-refute examples wherethey say torture ‘worked’.

 I don’t think that’s your motivation(or indeed any of the readers on the blog) but it is a tactic I’ve seen used andone Rejali briefly discusses.

 So what I’m going to dois I’m going to approach this not by intensely studying these particular cases(I’d love to but realistically I don’t have the time to do it properly) but bypointing out the bits that are usually missing from stories like this one.Basically I’m looking back over the detailed analysis of cases that do exist and drawing on the differencebetween what happened and what torturers saidthere to give an idea of what mighthave happened here.

 Let’s start withGoldenberg.

 To me the case you’redescribing doesn’t read like solitaryconfinement in the sense I use the term. Solitary confinement means 23 hours ormore a day without human contact.

 That includes theguards and interrogators.

 The situation you’redescribing sounds very much like the interrogator, Dorbzhinskii spent a lot of time with Goldenberg. That’sactually a very good (though manipulative) interrogation strategy.

 It sounds as thoughwhat Dorbzhinskii did was isolate Goldenberg and then befriend him. He took months to carefully build up a trustingrelationship with Goldenberg, probably spending significant periods of timewith him every day. Because, well, it takessignificant periods of time over days, weeks and months to build up arelationship like that. I imagine Dorbzhinskii would have had to spend at least 3-5 hours a day with Goldenbergand probably spent longer (6-7 hours daily would not surprise me). He wasprobably also instructing the guards to be civil, friendly and treat Goldenbergwith respect as any abuse would have broken the trust he was building.

 Building that kind oftrust is a good interrogation tactic,it’s something that really works. It’s something I’ve suggested in the past asan alternative to a ‘brainwashing’ narrative.

 It sounds to me asthough Goldenberg didn’t confess because he was in solitary confinement: heconfessed because he trusted his interrogator. And that really seems to be oneof the main aims of realinterrogation.

 I wouldn’t class thisas a torture case. I’d class this as clever, manipulative, interrogation.

 And I’d therefore expect the information volunteered to bereasonably accurate (though it is worth mentioning that even witnesses andsuspects who want to give authoritiesinformation can make honest mistakes).

 What happened with theDecemberists is rather trickier for me to pin down.

 If the honest successrate was really that high then I’d suggest the interrogators were using similartactics to Dorbzhinskii. Again the fact that each prisoner had a cell tothemselves does not necessarily meanthey experienced solitary confinement.

 And as you point outthere are a lot of reasons why people confess that don’t necessarily have anything to do with committing the crime.

 The number one reasonfor false confessions in modern Japan is thought to be poverty (Rejalidiscusses this). Given the choice of confessing and receiving a lightersentence or losing all the money they have in a defence case that might fail a lot of people chose toconfess whether they’re guilty or not.

 The pardons may alsohave been a major factor. If the Decemberists knew they were likely to bepardoned if they confessed then confessing (regardless of the truth of thematter) would have made sense. Because if they didn’t confess in that situation it could be seen as furtherantagonism towards the Tsar, inviting a ‘guilty’ verdict and a stiffpunishment.

 Sometimes when people are guilty and the authorities don’tactually have any evidence against them they can be manipulated into confessingand giving more details of their crime away. This is usually done by foolingthe suspect into thinking the police already know all the details and have allthe evidence.

 I’d suggest that couldhave been a tactic here.

 It’s also pretty commonfor people to falsely confess if there is sometruth in what they’re saying. So for example someone who had attended a lot ofDecemberist meetings, or listened to them speak but not actively participated could probably be persuaded toconfess to more than just standingthere listening.

 And I do mean persuaded rather than forced.

 Essentially I feel likeif the police campaign against the Decemberists was this successful then thechances of it involving torture or solitary confinement (as opposed toisolating the prisoners from their allies) is pretty small. From yourdescription I would guess that theguards and interrogators used tactics to befriend and win the trust ofindividual prisoners.

 They probably also promised them reduced punishmentsand said confessing would protect the prisoner’s friends and family.  

 Basically it soundsextremely likely to me that these particular cases didn’t actually involve longterm isolation or abuse. It sounds as though these cases met with successbecause the interrogators used non-violent tactics, to build up a relationshipwith the criminals involved. They got confessions and information by winningthe trust of the prisoners. That is realistic,sensible interrogation.

 I might be wrong,because I’m going purely from your description and there are probably otherfactors that a detailed historical analysis would bring up. And it’s always worth considering who recordedpieces of history and why when looking at anything historical.

 Hopefully this isenough to answer your question though (and help anyone who is thinking about writing interrogation in historical Russia). :)

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