#slash gorgeous crow

[crimsonbloomss]

aha ahah ahahahahahhaa WHY THE FUCK DO I HAVE TO WORK

[darethshirl]

Arranged Marriage AU, Lucanis & Illario angst

The cravat choked at him.

It shouldn't have; it was made from top-of-the-line antivan silk, Lucanis well knew, the fabric breezy and smooth against the skin. He'd touched it before. Weeks ago, in the mansion's cavernous antechamber, with the merchant obsequiously sweating under Caterina's crow-sharp gaze. A rainbow parade of swatches spread out for Lucanis's perusal, from velvety black to sentimental lilac. He was supposed to pick the colour.

Such an inconsequential choice, a mean and pointless allowance of freedom. Lucanis, self-hating, had grasped at it like a man drowning.

Now that same sky-blue cloth swirled over Illario's fingers, his dexterous movements tying up the knot like the most delicate of nooses. Lucanis stared at his cousin's face, so close to his he could map each tiny mole doting the man's left cheek. Illario ignored him—or perhaps was simply focused on his task. His gaze was downcast, his eyelashes dark and delicate against his cheekbones.

"There," Illario said, finishing up with a flourish. "The perfect groom." He looked up at Lucanis, his mouth curling up in a teasing smirk. "Now all we need to fix is his attitude."

"Hm."

"Smile, Lucanis. It's not that hard. See?" Illario gestured at his face, and all at once the mask was on: pearly white teeth on a wide slash of a smile, a warm, coy light dancing in his eyes. A smile that enticed, rejoiced, invited one to join in the joke. Even his crow's feet crinkled, for added sincerity. Lucanis stared, expressionless and a little helpless, unable as always to figure out the magic behind the trick.

"I don't need to smile," Lucanis said instead, too gruff. "It's not like either of us have a choice in the matter."

Illario sighed. "You're acting like you're marrying an ogre. I've seen your bride-to-be, you know." He smoothed the thin fabric of Lucanis's shirt like a fussy mother, tweaking golden buttons that didn't need any straightening. "Quite the beauty. Full cheeks, full lips. Rich black hair down to her waist. Gorgeous, really."

"You marry her then."

"Oh, I would."

And it was said as a joke—it was always said as a joke, the rhythm of their childhood rivalry, their benign competition—but the more they grew the more the undercurrent deepened, grew sharp edges. Turned treacherous. Lucanis met Illario's eyes and felt the weight of all they left unsaid, the mutual understanding forged through their common, if parallel, life path. Then Illario's expression turned opaque, his eyes shuttering behind the mask, and Lucanis could no longer read him.

Illario turned away. "Come on. The First Talon can't be late to his own wedding."

But Lucanis stayed rooted to the spot, struggling with his thoughts, with an elusive emotion that would have made his eyes smart if he'd let it. "Illario—if I could—"

"Stop."

Tension wracked their silence, the muscles on Illario's back. Lucanis waited, and clenched his fists, and couldn't breathe.

Then Illario exhaled—Lucanis felt it in his own lungs, like a taut line suddenly cut—and just like that the world made sense again. Illario looked over his shoulder, and this time he had his real smile on, small and playful and a little bit mean. "Look, if you need an exit strategy, just give the signal and I'll plunge a dagger in her heart. I'm not even kidding, I'd do it."

Lucanis laughed despite himself, a quiet huff that warmed him up from the inside out. "Thanks," he said, and meant it.

[minkdelovely]

🗣️ EVEN HIS BONES WERE BETTER THAN OTHER PEOPLE’S.

Oh my gosh Hazel… I can feel how close we’re getting to the BIG WORD and I thought I’d be more prepared but I’m really not… This chapter was the sugar we needed after the last one (even though Ephi is… abrasive, to say the least lmao). Which only makes my love for Ruth more fierce! I loved seeing Autumn just gab with a friend 🥹♥️

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

A deep sigh from her, “Still last to be picked by the fellas, sis?” Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, “The ugly duckling was always your favorite story.”

damn is EVERYTHING out of this girl’s mouth backhanded?? my older sister dominance is itching to draw the line lmao

Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty.

this hit me like a fucking train oh my godddd

Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.

Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself. 

OHHH FUCK I’M TEARING UP 🥲♥️

You’d tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again.

LMAOOO yeah I’d wanna avoid Brenda if I could, too

A random memory flashed behind your eyes,  washing Alastor’s hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value. 

HAZEL OH MY GOD 🥲

Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed.

THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT. DAAAAMNNN 😂❤️‍🔥

She nodded enthusiastically,’“Yes! Of course. Don’t forget a name like his. Or face.” She whistled like a crude man trying to get a woman’s attention in the most annoying way.

Is Ruth one of us, or are we Ruth? Or the “secret” third option: we’re all the ouroboros of desire for Alastor

An abrupt laugh, “That string bean couldn’t open a heavy window. He didn’t do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.”

RUTH!! 😂💖 Don’t judge a book by its cover, huh?

The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.

you need to stop it with this (please don’t stop)

“And he’s terribly kind. He’s always,” how to say it delicately, “going out of his way to help others solve their problems.” That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, “His face lights up so bright when he’s talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul shining through his eyes and suddenly I’m just as interested in whatever he’s talking about as he is.” You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, “What?”

THIS ENTIRE THING IS JUST PURE, CONCENTRATED DREAMYYY

Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didn’t hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?

ONE FEAR! ONE FEAR!! ONE FEAR!!!

“Is that all men are to you? Sex?” She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth. 

sighhh I love Ruth 😭✨

But — he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.

ain’t that the fucking truth 😮‍💨

Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him. 

THIS GORGEOUS, HEART-WRENCHING TEE UP

A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.

AND THE KNOCK OUT OF THE PARK. GOD DAMNNN

You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing you’d ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had …. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.

I’m trying so hard to hold myself together but you’re making it very difficult my dear 🫠♥️

As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would leave, that’d be….nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love? 

WHAT DID I LITERALLY JUST SAY?? 🥲🫠

When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. What were you doing in this man’s car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?

TEARS ARE BURNING MY EYES AS I TYPE THIS FUUUCKKKK

You’d have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.

I AM SO FUCKING WEAK… SOOO FUCKING WEAK FOR THIS MAN

“Kind of funny, you chased me down, didn’t you?” Alastor’s comment pulled you back to him.

“Oh yes. That makes you my doe.” Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. “Reminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.”

“My mighty buck!” He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. “Well given the chance, I’d chase you for miles.” His hand flexed on your leg.

…you already know this whole thing is too powerful. I don’t even have to say it. Not a single thing…

“There is no limit. I’d … run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.” He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession. 

Your melodrama matches my melodrama, Alastor 😭♥️ ughh the baby steps toward confession are agonizing, so thank god for my masochistic streak 💅🏻

“Nope! That’d make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.” A wink. “Why run from such a catch like me?”

THE WAY HE’S NOT WRONG THOOO

You hadn’t made him run after all for you, but instead seemed to just….rest your neck between his canines. And trust. 

you are really tapping into some of my deep-seeded needs, JESUS CHRISTTT

Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him. 

I REALLY FUCKING CAN’T WITH YOU HAZEL — I AM A MESS

But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, he’d be a richer man in hell than he’d ever been on earth. It’d be enough. He’d just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.

to quote an icon: I’LL REMEMBER YOU ALL IN THERAPY

A Doe in Fall (Part 9)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵

Part 9 - Shiny Things

Ephi moves in, and Ruth reads you like an open book.

「Warnings/Promises: HumanAlastor x Fem! BurlesqueReader, Reference to domestic abuse of non-reader character, fucks, crows, swans, emotions be emotioning, so many birds, I don’t think reader is Aromantic I think she’s just stubborn, Cliff diving is just a joke do not follow people off cliffs, everyone is kicking reader’s ass in some way, my apologies to parts of Texas but not Texas as a whole」

Long time no see ! My head wasn’t in the right space for this story, and my head was also literally not doing well. But! Reading glasses helped since I’m writing on my phone like 7 inches from my face. the goal is Wednesday updates~ there’s about four parts already written so we’ve got a month of runway 👌�� Wednesday mornings are ‘God, That’s Good’ by @macabr3-barbi3 and nights are ADIF!

🎶 last time on A Doe In Fall 🎶 : you came home from your first week staying officially at Alastor’s to find our estranged sister waiting on your stoop.

this isn’t sexy but just like minors come on, MDNI? This blog is a sex shop

It’s not that you hated your sister, it’s that you resented her. You could love someone and not like them an ounce… but unfortunately when she left so did your familial love. Which meant all that held you together now was distrust and an obligation to a dead woman. 

“So things didn’t pan out up north?” You waved her into your apartment, agitation apparent in even the gesture of your arm. 

“It’s peachy! Just need to lay low a bit.” She said it with a chipper voice while looking around your apartment like she paid for it. “Wow you weren’t lying about the no money, huh? Talk about a shoebox.”

Charming. 

“Well, Ephi, you’re welcome to leave.” While you didn’t understand the name it wasn’t your business to question what someone asked to be called. Especially considering your own dual identity. You may have disliked the woman but human decency still hung to the bones of the relationship you called your sisterhood.

An obnoxious chuckle, “Nah it’ll do! Just the one single bed?”

“Why would I have more than one bed?”

A deep sigh from her, “Still last to be picked by the fellas, sis?” Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, “The ugly duckling was always your favorite story.”

The fine hairs rose on the back of your neck, a cat’s hackles moving as the anger bristled through your body. You opened your mouth to shout all the ways you were not the ugly one in the room, hand already in the air to direct her attention to the dried, hanging flowers covering the far wall. How many people threw flowers at her feet? How many proposals were shouted to her? Wedding rings slipped off fingers and into pockets for her? 

The air in your lungs went flat as a small fire of embarrassment rose in your gut.

How could she so quickly reduce you to a little girl again? Taking the bait for a fight you couldn’t win, because she wasn’t listening to anything but her own voice. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hand fell back to your side.

“You can take it. I’ll just be by for clothes now and then. Been staying with a friend closer to work.” Flipping through your mind you tried to catalog your valuables. What did you absolutely need to not turn up missing?

Ephi sat on the bed and crossed her legs in her best imitation of a lady. “Staying with Mister Fancy Pants?” A smile that reminded you of your childhood. A smile that said, “I won’t tell mom!” Right before turning and running to your mother’s ear.

“No.” 

A giggle two octaves above her usual tone, “Sure, okay! No skin off my back.”

You took your time to gather the items you had forgotten first, then the items you didn’t want her to have. Unsure how exactly to tell Alastor why a week into sharing his home officially you were already redecorating, you left that for your future self to figure out. The first item was obvious.

An angel statue your mother kept on her nightstand. You wrapped it in some newspaper, trying not to look in her direction. 

Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty. Something she shared with your mother. Which was her right, but it rubbed you the wrong way how she would always forget everyone else in her life when she had a man to call her own. A fair weather friend, at that. 

“How’s Howard?” The dick that took her away so many years ago.

She abandoned the lady act and rummaged through your cabinets, “Who’s that?”

Right.

A gold coin on a necklace. You slipped it inside a sock. 

“So, then, who is the man of the hour?”

Ephi began opening the dresser drawers, poking here and there. “Whaddya mean! I am an independent woman.”

You weren’t sure that had ever been true. While your mother had drilled it into your skull to never place yourself in the need of a man, she always seemed to throw her heart (and house keys and purse strings…) at the feet of any man willing to love her. 

“Love” her. 

There was no love in any of that. A common problem of confusing love with any and all intense emotions affected your mother and many others.

Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.

Your hands ran down the bag’s shapeless sides. Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself. 

Secrets you didn’t need slipping out. Secrets your sister couldn’t hold to save her life, or yours for that matter. You hurried around the room grabbing knick-knacks and photos and jewelry. Alastor would be at work soon, you wondered if you should call to warn him. This time not about a hot headed flatfoot but a nosey sibling.

You’d tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again. Quickly your leather bag got full and heavy. What was supposed to be a casual foray into sharing a home already turning into a full on move. 

Everything you needed and a few things no one ever would, because damn would Ephi pawn them the very second she needed something, were safely zipped away. Any plans to relax at home before work were abandoned and you just marched to the door. 

A random memory flashed behind your eyes,  washing Alastor’s hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value. 

“Hey, if any men come by looking for me you just don’t answer, okay?” You forced your face to relax, to show the sincerity you worked so hard to keep to yourself, “Please, Ephi.”

Her smile widened past unnaturally white teeth, no money for a room but clearly cash for peroxide tooth gel, “Ooh, why? Little sister make some enemies?”

Why couldn’t she just fucking agree?

“My job sometimes attracts crazies. I don’t tell them where I live but occasionally they figure it out. They’ve gotten violent before so…just don’t answer the buzzer. They’ll say they’re damn near anyone to get you to let them up.” You stopped the nervous twisting of your bag’s handle, “Boyfriend, boss, detective. They've tried it all.”

“Aww, sis. Look at you.” She leaned her full figure against the open door frame, arm raised up like a pin up. Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed. “Stalkers? Mama would be so proud. Finally learning how to catch a man’s attention.”

The tears that stung your eyes were inspired partly by anger and partly by pain. They came so suddenly you could only laugh in response. 

“Lovely to see your new name hasn’t changed you, Ephi. I’ll be back occasionally. Don’t steal anything, no strangers over. Spare key is in the bowl by the door.” 

“Oh hey!” 

You turned back.

“I do need some cash. Until I find work.”

The numbness blanketed you with a chill. 

“I’ve got like, three bucks. Is that fine?”

Why did you ask that? You knew she could very well say it wasn’t fine and you’d be obligated to offer to get more. Atleast, that’s what you’d have done when you were younger. How easily you both slipped into old roles. Or perhaps she never grew out of hers. 

She mulled it over, “Yeah that’ll be fine.” Her hand came out and waited for the bills.

An open palm waiting for your money.

You pulled the folded bills from your wallet and set them in her hand without touching her skin. 

“Thanks sis!” She turned and closed the door before you could reply.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The other dancers shot you a look when your bag jingled and clanked as it hit the floor, you wincing as you remembered the ceramic figurine.

“You…. going somewhere, hun? The detective got you on something?”

A quick shake of your head. You hadn’t considered the optics. Luckily it was early enough the room wasn’t very busy. A few select missing women would have pried for more information. Your hands fidgeted, unsure what to do. On the way in you saw some newer talent getting their feet on stage, maybe watch them? Too early for make up. 

A loving voice from Ruth, always a savior, “Cigarette?”

You melted at the offer. Alastor wasn’t a fan of the smell so you were slyly cutting back. 

She popped a sun bleached folding chair open and set it in between you both as a footrest. So many broken and ruined chairs littered the sides of the dingy roof, you were shocked she found a good one on her first try.

“Alright, tell me what happened with that detective. Do I need to go rough up a city employee?” Ruth leaned back and settled into her chair with a creak and a whine of the wood.

You needed a second, eyes flitting around as she handed her cigarette for you to take a drag. What could you say? What did she already know? You’d not spoken about it since she helped shoo him away but the appearance of half your belongings haphazardly stuffed into a bag clearly had her alarms going off. 

“So remember the guy who came by for me? Tall handsome one.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Of course. Don’t forget a name like his. Or face.” She whistled like a crude man trying to get a woman’s attention in the most annoying way.

“The detective thinks he did something to Tommy. That he was jealous. Which is ridiculous-,” you felt a nervous energy slip down your arms. 

An abrupt laugh, “That string bean couldn’t open a heavy window. He didn’t do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.”

Did she notice how much you’d been holding your breath? A deep sigh as you let it go. “Exactly! He doesn’t even know about what happened that night with that guy and Tommy’s arrangement; it’s too mortifying. Anyway, the detective has been hounding me about it. I don’t wanna cause trouble.” You ashed the cigarette and held it out for her, “Stuff is still new with him and me, so I didn’t tell the detective his details or work anything. Why would I? So he can harass him too?” The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.

“Fair.” A few passes back and forth in what you hoped was a comfortable silence and not an indication she was piecing together things you needed to remain unlinked. Finally, “Didn’t realize you two were still seeing each other. Longest one you’ve kept for awhile now.”

Looking up, you marveled at the view of the open sky. Not a cloud in sight. A smile crept across your face, the heat of the sun warming you from the inside out. The slightest chill to the air warning you of Fall. “Yeah.”

She asked what made him so special and you didn’t know where to start. “The obvious,” you began. “He’s so-,”

“Clever.” “Handsome.”

You’d spoken at the same time, her attempt at soothsaying failing miserably.

“Clever, Ruth. He’s very clever. Handsome men are a dime a dozen. But he’s sharp as a tack.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand around for you to go on. You let your mind toss out the shiniest examples. “He’s so skilled. He knows how to hunt and take apart animals. He can fish. Cooks like a dream. He knows how to clean clothes well and how to use a washing board.” 

“Useful.” She mused. That isn’t what you meant. You weren’t trying to list off his features like a new appliance. It was just— impressive. He was well rounded.

“And he’s terribly kind. He’s always,” how to say it delicately, “going out of his way to help others solve their problems.” That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, “His face lights up so bright when he’s talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul glittering behind his eyes and suddenly I’m just as interested in whatever he’s talking about as he is.” You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, “What?”

“You’re in looooove,” her foot kicked yours, “I know that look. Head over heels already. Talking about him like he made the fucking stars.”

Wide eyed and stunned, was it written on your face so plainly? “Oh don’t say that. It makes me so uncomfortable. We’re just enjoying each other's company.” When she moved to give you the cigarette again you didn’t take it. “All I was saying was—,” fuck, what were you saying? That he was special? “He’s a very nice person to spend my limited time with. It’s a finite resource and all.”

With a shrug she took another puff, “What’s to be uncomfortable about? Falling in love is a wonderful thing, hun.”

Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didn’t hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?

“Cheesy. And kind of creepy. Falling? How do I get back up if things go south?”

You’d successfully avoided emotional attachment to nearly every lover you’d taken. The way women seemed to get struck down dumb by any old John or Jane just wasn’t appealing. Love was for fools. The weak. The dependent.

Or, so you had whispered to yourself as you pretended to not be home when suitors came knocking, as you avoided ringing phones, as you apologized and slid out of restaurant seats after awkward dinners. 

“If you fall hard enough, you don’t get back up.” She said it like it was a good thing. “You’ll love them forever, even if you hate em.”

That was the problem, too. How could she not hear that as she said it? All loss of control of your own heart and emotions was simply bad. People do irrational things for love.

You shivered, “That sounds absolutely horrid, Ruth.”

“Aah,” she dismissed you with a raspberry blown between her lips, “For the right man, you’ll find yourself enjoying the trip down!” 

“Nah, I’m not fan of heights. No dick is worth that.”

“Is that all men are to you? Sex?” She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth. 

But, Yes.

Well. No . But — he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.

Or, fine. 

Yes, he was a man. 

No, you didn’t see them as just sex. It was easier to say people were just pleasure and not stop to think about life any other way. Things got complicated when you added another person. Life became sloppy and uncontainable. If you stopped and considered the lives behind the people you used to lead on and let go before things got too difficult, you’d just wound yourself. It was easier to stop at sex.

When you could. Which you could, before. When sex was a token you traded back and forth with someone. But Alastor didn’t accept that currency. You couldn’t hand him your body and get brief but lovely companionship back. Your value had to lie elsewhere, the things you set before him and the wonders he had to offer were much richer in their worth than what you’d ever had before. 

Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him. 

A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.

“You really don’t think you’re falling for him?” Ruth put out the cigarette in the coffee can beside her. As you turned to argue with her you saw her face full of amusement and incredulousness. It was rhetorical.

The argument withered and you could only pout, everyone that day seeming to catch your tongue, “I don’t wanna think about it. I’ll get scared and run away. He’ll figure out how little I have to give eventually. If anything more is gonna happen, it’ll happen. I’ll just… let it. Why ruin it with… saying childish things.”

“You’re naive but that’s okay. Enjoy the honeymoon stage while you can.”

Your eyes rolled, “What if he doesn’t feel the same? Why embarrass myself.” When you sighed the weight of just how heavy and true that sentiment was resonated in your stomach. Telling him you were falling in love? Alastor was a killer. His passion was singular. What good was a dame to him? No, worse than worthless. A liability. A witness. A weak point in the walls he so carefully crafted. If he knew you were in love with him he’d just end things sooner than they would have naturally.

“Dontcha wanna know if he’s a waste of that precious time, then?”

You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing you’d ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had …. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.

You could only shake your head, “Wait, Ruth, didn’t you get divorced?”

“Shhh that doesn’t count!” She rose and stretched her long arms up to the sun and then out to the horizon, “Plus that’s how I know what I’m talking about! After the honeymoon phase? You’ll be arguing about laundry and wishing you were strangers again. Fighting about children and lawncare.”

As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would simply leave, that’d be….nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love? 

And did that matter at all? 

You’d thought earlier you knew the answers but now, when someone else said it, you got scared of those words. 

Ruth must have put a spell on you. As you and a bevy of others danced in line on stage, arms over shoulders and legs kicking high enough to show cheek and jiggle the soft skin of your thighs and stomach, you felt butterflies in your gut. Alastor would be picking you up in a matter of hours. 

A few men sent you drinks, which you repaid with a wink and a kiss blown across the bar before downing the liquor. It was the usual routine. You hadn’t felt nerves to see Alastor quite like that since sheepishly picking out “comfortable” shoes.

Alastor’s eyes widened when he took the bag from you, not noticing your attempts to avoid making eye contact. He let out a chuckle, his best attempt at stifling the joking question, “Already moving in?”

He realized quickly enough that wasn’t a good joke. Not when he finally looked up and saw your stare was distant. 

“Everything okay, dear?” He walked to open your door for you, and you nodded a thank you and an affirmative.

Should you rip off the band aid? Should you just say it and see what happens? 

When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. Even his bones were better than other people’s. What were you doing in this man’s car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?

No, in the books you read, confessions were always grande affairs. Fireworks and dinner parties and passionate kisses in rain storms.

You’d have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.

He deserved something much better than whatever you had to offer. Something unlike yourself entirely. 

The drive home, and yes you let yourself linger on the word instead of shoo it away, you watched a deer jump across the dirt road just past the bridge. 

“The bucks chase the does. It’s part of their mating ritual. I guess it’s not unlike the ‘playing hard to get’ some women like. The longer the chase, the prouder the buck to snag his prize.”

You laughed, “Women don’t like it, I don’t think. Well, some do I am sure but… If we don’t do that then people think we’re easy. We need plausible deniability. If people learn we put out we can claim we didn’t really want to and save some face.”

Alastor grimaced, “Gross.”

Unseen, you nodded and turned to watch the buck leap after its doe. 

“Kind of funny, you chased me down, didn’t you?” Alastor’s comment pulled you back to him.

“Oh yes. That makes you my doe.” Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. “Reminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.”

“My mighty buck!” He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. “Well given the chance, I’d chase you for miles.” His hand flexed on your leg.

“To Texas?” You asked. Your usual end point.

“Further.”

“How far?”

“There is no limit. I’d … run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.” He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession. 

The idea of you making Alastor chase you was ridiculous. You enjoyed the games you played with others, but you were never meant to be caught. If you wanted that, you’d just…give yourself. As you had done with him. Only him. The first and last person you ever wanted to give yourself over to in any sense. “And if I just… lied down and let you catch me? Would that make me a poorly earned prize?”

“Nope! That’d make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.” A wink. “Why run from such a catch like me?”

You landed a smack on his arm, light and playful. 

A truly comfortable silence settled in, just the sound of the car trembling over the rough road. The newest model Ford was still as loud as the last, but luckily you were far from others. 

The words had lingered like smoke, and you felt the need to address them.  

“Don’t actually do that though. If I run off a cliff or something stupid, don’t you dare follow me.”

Alastor just laughed, wasn’t that what you were doing for him already? Diving into hell for some inexplicable reason after Alastor. He wasn’t expressing some lack of self preservation, he was merely letting you know he’d reciprocate the fall. You hadn’t made him run after you, but instead seemed to just….rest your neck between his canines. And trust. 

If you were to go to heaven, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. It was too late to redeem his soul now. How far was heaven from hell, anyways? If the devil survived the plummet perhaps he could scale the walls of his enclosure and breach the gates.

Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him. 

Maybe he could make a plea. To just be able to see you from below. 

But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, he’d be a richer man in hell than he’d ever been on earth. It’d be enough. 

He’d just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[stray-kaz]

A Murder of Crows : a Kaz Brekker x f!reader FF mini : Part One

Summary: Modern au in which Kaz Brekker and his Crows are in the rescue business. They run an underground anti-trafficking mob. The only thing Kaz hates more than liars are powerful people who take advantage of others and the Diamondbacks are the worst of the lot.

A/N: I sincerely hope I have the impetus to keep this going. Thank you to everybody who showed interest.

Warnings: Evidence of abuse, fear of men. (Kaz thinks you are only falling for him because he saved you. Kaz is a very smart idiot).

He was covered in blood the first time you saw him, a grim reaper, dark clothed and limping. But he was far from lame.

"Demjin" you gasped.

He grinned then, a white slash in a bloody mask.

"If you like."

He extended a gloved hand towards you and you took it gingerly, rising from the dirty floor in a cloud of chiffon and expensive perfume. He glanced at your clothes with distaste, a wrathful sneer curling at his mouth. You glanced down, ashamed, and tried to cover the tattooed snake that writhed down your forearm, white diamonds patterning its back. But he shook his head, gripped your chin between gloved finger and thumb and lifted your gaze to his bitter one.

“This is not your fault” he said stonily. “Life bit you. Now you get to bite back.”

He let you go and limped through the exit, expecting you to follow and not looking back to check.

Light blinded you the second you stepped outside of the dark compound you’d been existing in for months. You kept your eyes fixed hard on the back and shoulders of the man who had let you out. Curious how, after everything you had suffered at the hands of men, you were capable of trusting this one. He was walking arrogance, pure as coal, but you believed he might just hate the men who took you and used you as much as you did.

“Your name?” you asked, reaching for his sleeve.

Your fingers had barely brushed it when he turned to look down at you with eyes like ice, the same moment someone else called to him and his head snapped away, his name ringing in your ears.

“Kaz!”

You looked up to see a tall, lanky man bounding towards you, a gleaming gun strapped to each hip, barely hidden beneath the folds of his coat. Instinct bolted and you ducked behind Kaz, hiding in his shadow. He glanced behind him, irritation melting into something else, something strange and cloying, when he glimpsed your wide eyes and the ring of dark finger bruises painted around your throat. He hadn’t been able to see them in the dark building.

He held up a hand to stop the young man in his tracks; warm brown eyes tried to find you around the wall that was Kaz Brekker, but Kaz shifted his stance on his bad leg every time he moved, so eventually he gave up and stood back, hands spread wide.

“Jesper” Kaz said quietly. “Bring me Nina and Inej.”

“But, can’t I even say -”

“No” Kaz interrupted. “You can’t. Bring me Nina and Inej.”

Jesper sighed and loped off, broad shoulders bunching under the fabric of his coat.

“Thank you” you mumbled.

He didn’t say you’re welcome, nothing like that.

“Jesper is good” Kaz told you instead. “One day you’ll see it. He is everything I’m not.”

That was your first warning.

You were driven to a place they fondly called the Slat, but you were not expecting a well kept, well lit apartment building, three levels high and packed to the roof with small luxurious one and two bedroom apartments. The two young women Kaz had sent Jesper to find for you, Nina and Inej, hustled you inside and into the waiting elevator, leaving Kaz and Jesper to find their own way up.

Inej was Suli, dark eyed and beautiful, still carrying the ghosts of a similar past to your own; you could see it in her eyes and in her sad smile when she looked at you. Nina had the wide hipped, strong look of the working class Kaelish, but turned out to be Ravkan, a top of her class heartrender and gorgeous to boot.

She held your hand in hers as she led you back out of the elevator on the second storey, producing a delicate key from inside her sleeve and unlocking the door to usher you inside, handing you the key as soon as you had stepped across the threshold.

“This is yours” Inej said, gesturing at the room. “One bedroom, one bathroom, and a small kitchen. You now hold the only key.”

You stared at her and Nina, surprised. You turned the key over and over between your fingers.

“The only key?” you asked softly. “Truthfully?”

Inej nodded.

“Truthfully.”

“What about Kaz? He owns this, doesn’t he?”

Inej glanced at Nina and you followed the look, waiting.

“Kaz will leave you alone, but if there’s an emergency, he doesn’t need keys” Nina said diplomatically. “Now, sugar, there are fresh clothes in the wardrobe. I’m sure something will fit, but if not, let Kaz know and he’ll fix it. He might look and sound like a demjin, but you can trust him. He’s wicked for all the right reasons.”

She squeezed your hand and Inej gave you another fleeting smile before they turned and left through the still open door. You closed it slowly behind them, locked it, then turned to face your room. Yours.

You sank down onto the fluffy carpet and closed your eyes, thanking the Saints for the demjin who had saved your life, right as the first tear fell.

Tagging: @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r​

[lumosatnight]

22 FIC RECS 2022!

There have been some fantastic fics this year. Out of the hundreds that I've read (yes, hundreds) here are some of my favorites! These are all fics that I've read and loved in 2022, although some of them are quite a few years older. Here's to another year in the wonderful HP fandom! 22 fics ordered by ship!

🌼 - fluff | 💔 - angst | 🔥 - smut

—

💫 Drarry 💫

1. help yourself and refuse to be buried by Ingi [Drarry, G, 3k] 💔 🍰 A heartfelt story about food and magical cooking! Master of Death Harry connects with his family and his Indian heritage after the war (and also with Draco ahem).

2. Romp and Circumstance by @wolfpants [Drarry, E, 36k] 🌼 🔥 If you enjoy slag Harry with a heart of gold trying to woo his way into Draco's pants, then this fic is for you. Did I mention it's regency era?

3. facedown on my bed (thinking of you) by @onbeinganangel [fem!Drarry, M, 10k] 🌼 💅 A super sweet college AU fic in which Drarry end up being unlikely roommates. They still remain in character while being genderswapped!

4. Good Boy by @lqtraintracks [Drarry, E, 15k] 🔥 🐺 HOT WEREWOLF SMUT!!! Everything you could possibly want with a fic like this. Size kink, breeding kink, scenting, knotting.... um, hell yeah!!

5. An Emerald In The Sky by @corvuscrowned [Drarry, M, 7k] 💔 ⏳ Gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous. Time travel fuck buddies to lovers with Unspeakable Harry. A love story for the ages. Crow, you continue to amaze me with your fics.

—

💫 Common Ships 💫

6. Industry by charlolwut [Wolfstar, G, 22k] 🌼 📷 Sirius Black is a Muggle TV producer. Remus is his editor. Secrets, misunderstandings, and hilarity ensue!

7. oops I did it again by Anonymous [Jily, E, 16k] 🌼 🔥 College AU where James and Lily are accidental fuck buddies and Lily is confused about it. Their dynamic is flirty and combative! I love James so much in this.

8. The funny thing about grief and time by @etalice [Snarry, E, 44k] 💔 🫂 This fic is flipping fantastic! The angst is glorious, the setting is gorgeous, the interactions are beautiful. Time travel and loneliness wrapped into one amazing story!

9. a mass of fools and knaves by @displayheartcode [slash!Romione, T, 2.6k] 🌼 📖 Short but sweet. Male Hermione is instantly drawn to Ron and how they grow together throughout the years. You'll be rooting for them the whole time!

—

💫 Rare Pairs 💫

10. Growing Teeth by @earlybloomingparentheses [Flonks, E, 2.6k] 💔 🔥 This is a story about growth and recovery and fucking. This is also a story about hair and cutting it all off to finally feel free. Fantastic characterization!

11. Crown Enterprises by @storyof-eden [Cissamione, E, 3k] 💔 🔥 I cannot get over this fic!! Mob boss Narcissa and assassin Hermione are the murder lesbians of my dreams.

12. Little Old Witch by @anxiousgoat-blog [Aragusta, G, 12k] 🌼 👶 This is an AU I can get behind 1000%! Augusta Longbottom finds out Harry is being abused and raises him herself. With the help of the friendly neighborhood squib :)

13. Extraordinarily Ordinary by starstruck1986 [Sirron, E, 9k] 💔 🔥 This ship came out of nowhere, but once I read this fic I couldn't unsee it. Ron is just the right amount of innocent and insecure to be taken in by Sirius's charms.

14. Courtship Rituals by @impishtubist [Cedrarry, T, 4k] 🌼 🌹 Cedric tries to court Harry, but of course he's oblivious. This is cute and hilarious!

15. Yes, Minister by iamisaac [Kingco, E, 1.5k] 🔥 👔 This is pure filthy smut between Draco and his minister boyfriend. Hop aboard the Kingsley/Draco ship where there's mind-blowing sex and that sweet sweet age difference!

16. Gyre and Gimble by eldritcher [Drarity, M, 3k] 💔 ☀️ A stunning fic from one of my hands-down favorite authors! Draco is drawn to the prisoner in the manor's basement. Charity is perhaps a little mad.

—

💫 Poly Ships 💫

17. A Life Worth Remembering by @writcraft [Snarryaco, E, 23k] 💔 🔥 Memory loss, de-aged Severus Snape, and established Drarry pulling him into the fold. This fic is such a wonderful dive into polyamory and relationships.

18. Terms and Conditions by @maraudersaffair [Linnansy, E, 8k] 🌼 🔥 Pansy can't get over her ex (Ginny) and is stuck on a trip with Ginny's new girlfriend (Luna). This fic made me laugh, swear, and sweat all in one sitting.

19. Slice of Pleasure by @misdemeanor1331 [Bleonsy, E, 5k] 🔥 🔪 Theo is obsessed with knives, Pansy is obsessed with Theo, and Blaise is just there for a good time. Knife kink and hot smut. Like very hot. Very very hot. But also sweet.

—

💫 Gen 💫

20. Nine Hundred and Twelve by @cannibalschism [Fred & George, T, 5k] 💔 🧑‍🤝‍🧑 This fic is filled to the brim with metaphors, friendship, and life lessons. I absolutely loved this take on time travel and the journey that George takes. Percy is the real MVP!

21. Where You Belong by blue_string_pudding [Severus, T, 6k] 💔 🐀 This is probably the creepiest, most unsettling thing I've ever read. I completely ADORE it. But I was definitely checking around corners after reading it.

22. Family Legacy by @thistlecatfics [The Tonks, T, 2k] 🌼 💔 Following Ted, Nymphadora, and Teddy as they navigate life and queer identity. This is a fic that is so wonderfully poignant, it leaves you in awe of all that it accomplished.

—

💫 Bonus fics! 💫

Here's a WIP I'm excited about for 2023!

One More to Love by @krethes, @theresthesnitch [Wolfstarbucks, E, 94k, WIP] 🌼 🔥 Omegaverse and surprise pregnancy! The sexual chemistry between the three is off the charts! I'm not usually into WIPs, but for this I am (im)patiently waiting for every update.

Also a cheeky self-rec because why not?

What is this, fucking Jeopardy? by @lumosatnight [Drarry, E, 20k] 🌼 ❓Cursed Draco meets Curse-Breaker Harry. Lots of misunderstandings, humor, oblivious boys in love, and talking in circles. Will Draco ever be cured? Was the author in hysterics while writing this?

—

Want more fics to read?

Try my rec tag: #lumosinthelibrary

My 2021 list, b-day oneshots, WLW Library

[courtof-storms]

The Way Home, part 1

Cagliostro grabbed the torch by the door the second her feet hit ground on the outside and waited until Ral and Alexandrea joined her to start walking the same path they took to the tavern. She walked faster than the other two and soon left them in on the back end of the torch’s light. Alexandrea slowly got more and more anxious the faster Cagliostro walked and they clung tighter to Ral.

“Cagliostro, would you mind slowing down a bit?” Ral asked as he did his best to comfort his sibling. Cagliostro remembered why the torch was out the second she heard Ral’s voice and she turned around, going back to the two and wrapping an arm around Alexandrea.

“Sorry about that, just...a bit annoyed I guess.” She apologized as she lead them out of the Darkwild, holding Alexandrea’s hand as the group walked.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

“No, if I talk about it it makes it real and I don’t want to deal with it being real right now.”

“That’s fair...why don’t you tell us what you see in here? You said it was gorgeous, I’d like to know what I’m walking through.” He said, trying to make his tone sound a bit worried.

“Well, it’s great, a lot of it looks like how everywhere else in the realm looks. Lot of trees and foliage but everything has a slight blue tint to it. The leaves are a kind of teal and the fruit growing on the trees is purple. Purple apples and green peaches dance with the wind along black vines with violet and crimson flowers in bloom along the ground. Oh there are also many crows and robins sitting in the branches and watching us.” Cagliostro described. Ral smiled at that description as he followed her and Alexandrea slowly hummed a small tune to try and keep themself calm.

The group walked on for about a minute like that until Cagliostro suddenly stopped, causing Ral and Alexandrea to run into her and cause her to drop the torch.

“What’s wrong?” Alexandrea asked her as they leaned down and picked up the torch from the ground.

“There’s someone standing in the middle of the path, with a weird smile and...it looks like he’s waving us over.” She said, gripping Alexandrea’s hand tight. Ral’s spine stiffened and he slowly summoned some blood from his belt into a dagger and gripped it tight, wanting to get closer but was stopped by his own lack of ability to see in the absolute darkness that surrounded him. He let out a sigh and looked to Cagliostro.

“What do you think we should do?” He asked her coldly.

“That’s one of the main paths back to the main city. We have wolves to our left and abominations in the water to our right. Much as I hate to say it, we have to just go forward.” She told him, almost on cue came the roar of a wolf pierced the air when she was done talking.

“What if he means no trouble? What if he’s lost and just can’t see in here like me and Ral?” Alexandrea asked, looking up to Cagliostro who just sighed and took the torch from their hand.

“For now it’s best if we just be on guard, if he’s truly harmless then we have nothing to worry…” Cagliostro started, her voice trailing off near the end as she saw the man slowly approached them.

“What’s up?” Ral asked, picking up on Cagliostro’s hesitation.

“He’s getting closer.” She said just barely loud enough to be heard by the others who instantly froze.

Alexandrea was the first to act at the slight hint of danger, drawing their sword and dagger from their belt and rushing forward, not paying any mind to the fact that they couldn’t see or were in the dark. They attacked once they thought they were in range of the other person, swinging their sword in an arc that went in front of them from right to left followed by their dagger which managed to collide with a knife the other person had on him. Alexandrea’s face contorted into a gleefully sadistic smile at the noise and let out a crazed yell before slashing in front of them with their dagger and sword, not caring about any kind of training or technique. They just swung wildly and without a thought of trying to analyze their opponent, not that they’d be able to do that when they could hardly see their opponent.

Ral and Cagliostro heard the clash of metal and Alexandrea’s yell and they quickly rushed in to help them. Cagliostro handed the torch to Ral as she looked through the basket and pulled a glass jar out of it. She closed her eyes and threw it on the ground in front of her. When the small jar broke a bright light erupted from the point of impact and sent out many small flames on the ground in front of her before they expanded into a ring of fire encompassing the group and giving off some much needed light in the darkness.

They saw the person Alexandrea was fighting and he looked horrendous with patches of skin missing from the arms, face, and legs. There were patches of hair missing from the top of his head and the clothes he wore were covered in dirt, mud, and blood. Ral stopped in his tracks as he recognized the kind of person his sibling was fighting was one of them. The Risen was keeping Alexandrea on their toes in their fight, seemingly having the upper hand on them with only a rusted dagger as he effortlessly spun around and dodged every swipe and stab from the paladin, causing Alexandrea to get angry and swing their weapons harder and faster. After a few seconds of that the positions were reversed and his back was to Ral and Cagliostro who both stopped as they saw Alexandrea’s twisted smile. They looked happy, moreso they looked like they enjoyed it as their sword finally managed to find the man’s flesh and landed a cut on his inner thigh, causing him to crumple to the ground with a bloodcurdling scream.

Cagliostro gasped as she started running again and Ral went after her. Alexandrea’s expression morphed into one of pleasure at the sound of his pained scream as they raised their sword to cut him down and end his existence. They brought the blade down and he put his arm up to try and protect himself and a second later their face was covered in black blood as the man wailed in pain again, his hand now separated from his arm and laying on the ground beside him. Alexandrea didn’t want to stop, they wanted more bloodshed as they pointed the tip of their sword at one of the Risen’s eyes and raised it, their grin only growing as they quickly brought their sword into his eye and through the back of his head.

“Alexandrea!” Ral shouted as he finally got to his sibling’s side. Quickly their attention shifted to their brother, pointing the dagger at his sternum as they looked at him with the same sadistic grin they had when they fought the Risen. Ral paused, dropping the blood dagger to the ground and letting it go back to a liquid form before having it travel along the ground to Alexandrea’s feet. 

Cagliostro put a hand in front of her mouth to try and stifle a gasp at what she saw and to try and keep herself from throwing up at the sight of what had just happened. She slowly took a step back and tried to calm herself, eventually kneeling on the ground as she tried to keep her breathing steady.

“Alexandrea calm down, the threat’s passed, there’s no reason for you to keep fighting.” Ral told his sibling in a calm and even tone, his hands raised as he summoned more blood from the phials on his belt and it flowed across the ground to Alexandrea.

Without thinking they lunged at their brother with the dagger, Ral avoided the swipe at his chest as he jumped back and almost instantly called forth the blood on the ground to grab Alexandrea’s wrist tightly and restrain it. Alexandrea reacted to their wrist being restrained as he expected and they grabbed their sword from the Risen they had just killed and tried to stab at Ral. Ral used the blood coming from the Risen’s wounds and summoned it forth to restrain Alexandrea’s other arm tightly before they could do any damage to him with the sword. He smirked for a second before shaking his head and approaching them.

“I’m so sorry for this Alexandrea.” He apologized before balling up his left hand into a fist and punching them clean across the jaw. Alexandrea recoiled from the blow and growled at their brother, gnashing their teeth at him, and trying to bite him as they struggled against their blood restraints. After a few seconds of thrashing around violently, Ral and Cagliostro heard a pop come from Alexandrea, then another as they dislocated both of their shoulders in their struggle. Ral just sighed and continued punching his sibling until they were out cold and their growling stopped.

[butterflies-dragons]

Sansa Stark and The Exile Prince

You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seeing you out (...) I'm not your problem anymore So who am I offending now? You were my crown, now I'm in exile, seeing you out

—Exile ~ Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver (*)

***

At the end of Game of Thrones, the TV Show, Jon Snow is a prince, but he is exiled from his homeland. Sansa fought for Jon's release after Daenerys’ murder, but he was sent to the Night's Watch. 

Then at their farewell, Sansa regrets she was unable to gain Jon’s release, but he comforts her by saying the North will be in good hands under her guidance. 

That’s why the new Taylor Swift’s Folklore song: Exile, featuring Bon Iver, is making all our wounded jonsa hearts bleed again... 

[Let’s cry together while watching this beautiful Exile Jonsa fanvideo...]

Last year, Sansa’s fight for Jon to be released reminded me very much of her pleadings for Ned’s freedom:

The king! Sansa blinked back her tears. Joffrey was the king now, she thought. Her gallant prince would never hurt her father, no matter what he might have done. If she went to him and pleaded for mercy, she was certain he’d listen. He had to listen, he loved her, even the queen said so. Joff would need to punish Father, the lords would expect it, but perhaps he could send him back to Winterfell, or exile him to one of the Free Cities across the narrow sea. It would only have to be for a few years. By then she and Joffrey would be married. Once she was queen, she could persuade Joff to bring Father back and grant him a pardon.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

GRRM has said that the major players’ endings will be similar in the Books, and yes, he has also called Sansa a major player, so Sansa Stark being Queen of an independent North opens the possibility that she could grant Jon a pardon, so he could go back to Winterfell.

Asoiaf Books are full of exiled characters, especially Targaryen ones, like Maegor, Daemon, Viserys, Daenerys, all of them obsessed to claim the Iron Throne for themselves, and that’s the big difference with Jon Snow and the reason to be hopeful for some kind of pardon, reconciliation and returning home to, at last, enjoy some peaceful time at home, a true Dream of Spring.   

But Sansa Stark has already crossed paths with an Exile Prince. Let’s see: 

Back in AGOT Sansa introduced us to a very particular courtier of the Red Keep: Jalabhar Xho.  

Jalabhar Xho is the exiled Prince of the Red Flower Vale, likely exiled for losing a highly ritualized war as per the tradition of the Summer Isles. Following his exile, Jalabhar came to King's Landing in the Seven Kingdoms to request gold and swords from King Robert I Baratheon to help him regain the Red Flower Vale. Robert always entertained the notion of conquering the Summer Isles, but continuously told Jalabhar and put it off until the next year. Although Robert always put off Jalabhar's request for help, he never firmly declined him, telling him "Next year" instead of "No".

Jalabar Xho has a strong bird imagery that connects him with Sansa, since she is mockingly called a bird of the Summer Isles: 

Flowers of a thousand different sorts bloom in profusion on the Summer Isles, filling the air with their perfume. The trees are heavy with exotic fruits, and a myriad of brightly colored birds flitter through the skies. From their plumage the Summer Islanders make their fabulous feathered cloaks. 

—The World of Ice & Fire

Sandor Clegane stopped suddenly in the middle of a dark and empty field. She had no choice but to stop beside him. "Some septa trained you well. You're like one of those birds from the Summer Isles, aren't you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

The denizens of Joffrey's court had striven to outdo each other today. Jalabhar Xho was all in feathers, a plumage so fantastic and extravagant that he seemed like to take flight. 

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VIII

Sansa is the POV where this Prince of the Summer Isles is most mentioned. Out of the 22 mentions of Jalabar Xho in the Books, 8 of those mentions are in Sansa’s chapters, followed by the 7 mentions of the exile prince in Cercei’s chapters. But what is really curious and very interesting is the fact that most of those mentions are in a romantic context linked with love and weddings:  

Jeyne Poole confessed herself frightened by the look of Jalabhar Xho, an exile prince from the Summer Isles who wore a cape of green and scarlet feathers over skin as dark as night, but when she saw young Lord Beric Dondarrion, with his hair like red gold and his black shield slashed by lightning, she pronounced herself willing to marry him on the instant.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

He was one of the few spectators at Joffrey’s Name Day Tourney:  

Most of the spectators were guardsmen in the gold cloaks of the City Watch or the crimson of House Lannister; of lords and ladies there were but a paltry few, the handful that remained at court. Grey-faced Lord Gyles Rosby was coughing into a square of pink silk. Lady Tanda was bracketed by her daughters, placid dull Lollys and acid-tongued Falyse. Ebon-skinned Jalabhar Xho was an exile who had no other refuge, Lady Ermesande a babe seated on her wet nurse's lap. The talk was she would soon be wed to one of the queen's cousins, so the Lannisters might claim her lands.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

Jalabar Xho was present at Sansa’s wedding with Tyrion Lanniters, he said something to her in the Summer Tongue while they danced together:

Merry Crane took the floor with the exile prince Jalabhar Xho, gorgeous in his feathered finery. 

(...)

The music spun them apart before Sansa could think of a reply. It was Mace Tyrell opposite her, red-faced and sweaty, and then Lord Merryweather, and then Prince Tommen. "I want to be married too," said the plump little princeling, who was all of nine. "I'm taller than my uncle!"

"I know you are," said Sansa, before the partners changed again. Ser Kevan told her she was beautiful, Jalabhar Xho said something she did not understand in the Summer Tongue, and Lord Redwyne wished her many fat children and long years of joy. 

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III 

[Here you can find a fanart of Sansa and Jalabar Xho dancing together]

Jalabar Xho and Sansa met again during The Purple Wedding and they talked about the Wedding Customs of the Summer Isles:

Tyrion led Sansa around the yard, to perform the necessary courtesies.

She is good at this, he thought, as he watched her tell Lord Gyles that his cough was sounding better, compliment Elinor Tyrell on her gown, and question Jalabhar Xho about wedding customs in the Summer Isles. His cousin Ser Lancel had been brought down by Ser Kevan, the first time he'd left his sickbed since the battle. He looks ghastly. Lancel's hair had turned white and brittle, and he was thin as a stick. Without his father beside him holding him up, he would surely have collapsed. Yet when Sansa praised his valor and said how good it was to see him getting strong again, both Lancel and Ser Kevan beamed. She would have made Joffrey a good queen and a better wife if he'd had the sense to love her. He wondered if his nephew was capable of loving anyone.

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

The last we know about this particular character is that he is falsely accused by the Blue Bard to be one of Queen Margaery’s lovers and Cersei would be willing to send him to the Night’s Watch if he confesses:  

Behind Margaery came a long tail of courtiers, guards, and servants, many of them laden with baskets of fresh flowers. Each of her cousins had an admirer in thrall; the gangly squire Alyn Ambrose rode with Elinor, to whom he was betrothed, Ser Tallad with shy Alla, one-armed Mark Mullendore with Megga, plump and laughing. The Redwyne twins were escorting two of Margaery's other ladies, Meredyth Crane and Janna Fossoway. The women all wore flowers in their hair. Jalabhar Xho had attached himself to the party too, as had Ser Lambert Turnberry with his eye patch, and the handsome singer known as the Blue Bard.

—A Feast for Crows - Cersei VI

"I prefer this song to the other." Leave the great lords out of it, that was for the best. The others, though . . . Ser Tallad had been a hedge knight, Jalabhar Xho was an exile and a beggar, Clifton was the only one of the little queen's guardsman. And Osney is the plum that makes the pudding. "I know you feel better for having told the truth. You will want to remember that when Margaery comes to trial. If you were to start lying again . . .

(...)

Alone, the Blue Bard's confession would never suffice. Singers lied for their living, after all. Alla Tyrell would be of great help, if Taena could deliver her. "Ser Osney shall confess as well. The others must be made to understand that only through confession can they earn the king's forgiveness, and the Wall." Jalabhar Xho would find the truth attractive. About the rest she was less certain, but Qyburn was persuasive . . .

—A Feast for Crows - Cersei IX

Does the Exile Prince Jalabhar Xho reminds you of someone? Maybe of another Prince, that will probably be exiled from his homeland after some succession dispute, that is surrounded by bird imagery because he wears a black cloak, that is called ‘crow’ and knows an actual crow that repeats everything it hears, that is linked with Sansa Stark, that once imagined himself dancing with a creature that talked to him in a foreign tongue, and that once organized a foreign custom wedding of a Lady with whom he once danced? Do I need to say it? 

Damn it, George! What are you doing?

(*) This post was written while listening Exile over and over and over again...     

[inikavulpixelreviews]

Let’s Talk About Pokemon - Gen 8 Retrospective

This Generational recap itself might be a bit on the shorter side, since I already said my peace on the games themselves and their less than stellar impact on the fandom before I even started them. (Not that there isn’t a lot I’m talking about here today though, hoo boy.) Though just know between a repeat playthrough and my opinion on the Pokemon dropping as I've analyzed them more, I'd say my final verdict is that they're a decent enough swan song to the way Pokemon games used to be that made Gym battles feel special again but lacked in a lot of other areas. 6/10 overall.

Though obviously Gen 8 isn't done yet. Since DLC is on the way, as I've said several times already. My general thoughts on the concept of Pokemon DLC replacing the traditional “Third Version” is good. For one thing I'd much rather pay $30 for access to new content immediately over paying another $60 for a “Pokemon Armor” version that had most of its new content back-loaded in the postgame. $30 is still steep... but it's better. And of course, the prospect of releasing more new Pokemon via DLC is a good one too. Hopefully releasing DLC rather than a full game every year will relinquish some of the workload off Gamefreak... so perhaps we can get smaller batches of new Pokemon released mid-generation to help mitigate just how many Pokemon felt like they didn't get finished in time. But also hopefully it'll mean Gen 9 will be all the better when we get there... Gamefreak has stated they're really challenging themselves with the next major Pokemon games so hopefully they're taking the more level-headed criticism to heart and it's not all talk but we'll have to see.

Yeah, that's about all I have to say about the state of Pokemon as of right now, neverminding my multiple rants and tangents since I've already gone to great lengths to state that Gen 8 isn't as good as I might've initially thought. I still like it overall, and it's probably still not my least favorite Gen... but it's very much like Gen 4 with an EXTREMELY mixed bag. Certainly felt like for every excellently designed Pokemon they had below-average flunky that feels like it should've gone back to the drawing board once or twice. But even all that aside, one of my more annoying sticking points with Gen 8 is the severe lack of new animals.

So in place of my usual ramblings on my thoughts on a generation as a whole, let's do a little Compare and Contrast. Let's look at the past few Generations and see just how noticeable this flood of species redo's is. Green checks are significantly new enough animals, Red crosses are for animal origins that have been done before, Yellow slashes for Pokemon with vague or heavily mixed taxonomic origins, and Grey circles for Pokemon that are disqualified for being Objectmon, since we've yet to get repeats of those. (Also disqualifying Gen 8's regional evos other than Obstagoon since it's not necessarily their fault that they're repeats.)

Are there arbitration in places? Probably. But I feel like the point still stands that Gen 8 was waaaaay too reliant on touching up on animals already covered in Pokemon before. Especially when there's still so many animals that have yet to get a Pokemon to their name. The one plus Gen 8 does have in this regard is that it has a few more “taxonomically vague” Pokemon than usual. But repeating animals in and of itself isn't all that bad, if you make the repeat different enough to be interesting in its own right. The one thing you could do wrong in that regard is to just make your monster notably more “normal” compared to the Pokemon it's repeating. So how does that hold up?

As much as I've established that one's a crow and the other's a raven, the two animals are still very much similar creatures. But I do feel like Murkrow and Corviknight are differentiated enough while both still being a “fantasy” creature in their own way. Murkrow is very much a gangly, cartoony crow while Corviknight covers the more majestic side of corvids.

Another one that's pretty blatant is that we now have two regions with a Ladybird as the common bug. Orbeetle does however get to be more accurate to the Ladybird life cycle, starting out with a larvae and ending with the beetle. Again, Ledian and Orbeetle are very different flavors of the same creature, Orbeetle not skimping out on any outlandish elements. In fact, it's more visibly outlandish than Ledian was.

This is where things start to get hazy. I've stated that Nickit and Thievul are sadly my least favorite fox Pokemon to date, simply because it has the least to offer imaginatively than all the other foxes that accompany it. Ninetales has the kitsune thing going on, while its Alolan variant covers Arctic Foxes. Zorua is a fantastical take on the tricky nature of foxes by combining aspects of shapeshifting kitsunes or tanookies while throwing in a bit of Kabuki. And Fennekin grows up to be more of a wizard. Thievul is very much a stereotypical red fox while having the trickster nature of foxes that's not only been done by Zorua before, but also in a much more stereotypical thieving way like a Swiper the Fox sort of thing.

Wooloo always struck me as odd ever since it turned out it wasn't the region's common Normal-type. I can excuse plainness in the common woodland animal since they're rather uniformly not terribly interesting (and arguably are like that by design). So it turns out it's more of a common early-game fodder just like Mareep is, but Mareep is just a smidge more interesting by being elemental, and also it turns into Ampharos, a weird little bipedal lamb with little flippers for some reason. Which is reasonably more imaginative than a Pokemon that's mostly just a sheep.

Sandaconda is another one that feels significantly fantastical and unique compared to its previous serpentine cousins. The only snake Pokemon beforehand that was hugely different from the template of what a snake usually is was Snivy. Sandaconda is even unique as far as cobra monsters go, with its “hood” being a big ol' sac that it keeps its projectile Anakin-repelent in.

Centiskorch is a little iffy. It's cool that they turned a real centipede's grappling maneuver and turned it into an even more effective weapon via its heat spots. But in terms of body shape it's significantly more normal looking for a centipede than Scolipede's almost horse-like proportions, isn't it?

Another iffy comparison since they're both fairly “regular” looking Octopus monsters. But even so, I'd count it as a point against Gen 8 since there's been more than plenty of time to come up with a cool and unique body type for an octopus.

That's better! Eiscue, while normal-looking if you only count the penguin body, is still a funny and imaginative take on a penguin monster that is a completely different flavor from Empoleon's stern look to boot.

Another dodgy one to justify. There's neat theming in there, but there's hardly any denying that an elephant that rolls up into a wheel and rolls around is notably a much weirder take on an elephant that Copperajah going by an elephant's body shape to a T.

Had they gone for a look more purposefully weirdly geometric like they SEEM to be going for, I probably would've given it a hand-wave, but even with that in mind, Copperajah is pretty vanilla in terms of Elephant monsters. Especially compared to Donphan.

...So even then, it's pretty mixed in that regard. Some Pokemon feel like worthwhile additions to the biodiversity, but others I can't help but wonder what the point was. Did Wooloo really need to exist in a series that already had Mareep? Couldn't they push Copperajah's concept further to better contrast with Donphan? Having repeats isn’t BAD, pretty sure every Gen past the 2nd has done them. But it’s hard to find sticking points on Gen 6 and 7′s repeats. Aurorus is totally different from Meganium. Vikavolt, while being much more close to realism in body structure compared to Pinsir, is still a vastly different fantasy creature just on account of having a gun for a face. And the whole Goomy line is almost nothing like Magcargo. And all that is WHILE still bringing in plenty of new animals to play with.

So yeah, I hope all that can help with understanding why I was a little harsh on Gen 8. It's still not my least favorite, cause we still got a ton of good out of it, and I would much rather have a mixed Gen of “Some Really Good, Some Not So Great” over Gen 2 and 4's “Some are good but the rest are really plain and boring.” But of course, as per usual, we gotta do the lists...

Top 10 Favorites of Gen 8:

Like I said, the new Pokemon that are good are REALLY good. Still struggled to make a Top 10, for good reason!

Top 10 Favorites Overall:

That said, there wasn’t a ton of impact on my Top 10. Top 50 maybe, but not here.

Bottom 10 Least Favorites of Gen 8:

Sadly there was plenty I was just plain not a fan of. Has there ever been a Gen where I just straight up dislike the whole Bottom 10? Hmm...

Bottom 10 Least Favorites Overall:

And tragically, this Gen did make a pretty deep cut into my least favorites, oof. It is an unholy image to not see Gallade be all the way to the left up there.

The Cutest:

The Coolest:

The Prettiest:

Corviknight and Eternatus aren’t just there because I ran out of traditionally pretty ones, just so you know. There’s something about a sleek, nearly all-black design that is genuinely gorgeous-looking to me.

The Spookiest:

Most Creative:

Weirdest/Most Unique:

Most Forgettable:

Most Personality:

At least there were still plenty of personality-driven designs! Look at all these adorable little charmers and smug little shits.

Most Under-Appreciated:

Best Regional Variants:

I’ve probably said it already but I am legitimately ecstatic with Regional Variation being a mainstay feature now. There is INFINITE potential with the concept and totally didn’t deserve to get ditched after a single use just in Alola. In fact I think it’d be rad if they do any more remakes they retroactively made “Sinnohan” or “Hoenn” forms of Pokemon. I thought they might’ve made some “Kantonian” forms for Pokemon in Let’s Go and redesigned a few modern Pokemon to look a bit like they were designed back in the 90s... but sadly that didn’t happen. Despite how cool it would’ve been. But Kanto is sacred ground that cannot ever be changed, I guess...

Best Ultra Beasts: (????????????????)

h

Best G-Maxes:

I still love the concept of G-Maxes, and we’ll probably get a few more before Gen 8 is done entirely. But it does stink that the concept in the end felt a little half-baked. Speaking of which...

Pokemon That SHOULD'VE Gotten G-Maxes:

Because G-Maxes wound up being locked to only be for Gen 1 or 8 Pokemon, with only a handful of exceptions. MAYBE they’ll stretch into other Gens in the DLC, but until then lemme just make a personal wishlist of SQUANDERED potential. Though I’ll limit myself to Pokemon that are only in the current Galardex as to not be here all day.

I’m sure if you pay attention to the Fakemon scene at all, you’ve already seen a few G-Max Dhelmises where the seaweed has grown so massive that it’s now able to possess an entire haunted ship. And they are CORRECT to make such a thing because GOD what were they thinking NOT doing that?!? It’s right there under your noses!!!

Still bummed there was never a Mega Vanilluxe... but this could easily make up for it! A towering snowing mountain of ice cream is a super cool idea for a kaiju-size ice cream monster, maybe even ditching the icicle shaped cone in favor of having it rest in a “bowl” of ice!

Like??? Hello????? Are you telling me you’re making Kaijumon over here and you’re NOT gonna make a giant mecha?????????????????

Because a giant living beehive deploying swarms upon swarms of Combee is a badass concept just by itself.

Like c’mon this one was REALLY staring you in the face. A region set in Poke-England and you’re not gonna make a funny giant Zeppelin?

Just trying to imagine a colossal haunted chandelier is giving me chills by itself. Especially if you were to make it look elaborately regal and all that.

I’ve not got a specific idea, you’d just think they’d compensate for the lack of a Mega form.

G-Max Rillaboom has me feeling like this one’s likely to not happen, since I imagined a cool idea for a G-Max Trevenant was to make it a giant Deku-Tree looking haunted tree with a colossal trunk and even bigger canopy.

I guess Butterfree already had the spot taken for “Mothra stand-in”, but I feel like Frosmoth has just as much cool potential for a G-Max form as Butterfree did. Especially with the powdery snow scales it has.

Perfect opportunity to give Goodra a giant, more monstrous slug-like form. But no dice there either. Maybe next form gimmick...

Okay, C’MON. We KNOW they weren’t that bothered about giving G-Max forms out to Pokemon that already had Megas. This is the most obvious one of all! ESPECIALLY since its defacto-Mecha Godzilla got a G-Max but it didn’t.

Most “Unfinished” Feeling:

Since “least favorite” doesn't necessarily meant “unfinished.” (As much as I dislike Toxel, it doesn't really strike me as “not done.”) Not that I have clairvoyance on Gamefreak's internal workings, but some of these Pokemon definitely feel like they're not up to scratch with the series's usual quality standard.

My Disappointment is Immeasurable and My Day is Ruined:

To pick on Gen 8 one last time... and since it was a running gag anyway, here's the Pokemon that just crush my dreams the most. Except Appletun, mostly. It's good enough to be let off the hook. The rest? They were things that were on my wishlist of things and animals I would've LOVED to see get turned into Pokemon, only for my hopes and dreams to sink faster than the Titanic. Considering a majority of concepts within Pokemon don't come back, if not for a very long time, these Pokemon mean that I have to reluctantly strike a cake monster, a snowman, a coal monster, a train monster, a sea urchin, a pie monster, and some fresh Lapras attention off my wishlist. Sigh.

With two rounds of DLC coming, the main Pokemon review series probably won't be back until the tail end of this year shortly after Crowned Tundra is released. I am excited to get to talk about some of what they've shown so far, but I'd rather wait until the content is released and we know everything about the new Pokemon and Regionals. There will however be at least one more little bonus article about Gen 8 and the future of the series, but I wouldn't expect it to be out for a while. Before the DLC is out probably, but still a long ways off.

[Archive]

[letterboxd]

Empathy Machine: The Value of Film.

Kambole Campbell surveys the rapid rise in films our members are watching to deepen their understanding of racism, and recommends some deeper cuts once you’ve finished with the ‘first five’: 13th, Do The Right Thing, I Am Not Your Negro, Malcolm X and Selma.

As worldwide action against police violence (as well as a normalization of state-sponsored racism and armed-citizen violence) continues in the wake of George Floyd’s murder, it can feel strange and perhaps inappropriate to be talking about film, or even considering it.

But although the act of engaging with film is far from activism, there is still value to be found. These events are cyclical, and painful, and exhausting; you shouldn’t insist that your Black friends help you understand, you should be doing the work yourself. One easy way to start: with the many creative and galvanizing works by Black filmmakers. The likes of Spike Lee, Ava DuVernay, Cheryl Dunye and so many others have already done the job, all you have to do is watch.*

And, as clichéd as it feels to invoke, the simplest reasoning comes from Roger Ebert, who said: “Movies are the most powerful empathy machine in all the arts. When I go to a great movie I can live somebody else’s life for a while. I can walk in somebody else’s shoes.”

A lot of Letterboxd members feel the same way. Just as cinephiles flocked to Steven Soderbergh’s Contagion as the coronavirus pandemic began to spread, viewings of the likes of Ava DuVernary’s documentary 13th, Spike Lee’s magnum opus Do the Right Thing and Raoul Peck’s elegiac James Baldwin essay film I Am Not Your Negro—along with more films focused on Black experience, history and protest—have spiked in viewing and review numbers in the past fortnight.

Malcolm X, Selma, Daughters of the Dust, The Hate U Give, If Beale Street Could Talk, Just Mercy, Fruitvale Station, and more are all enjoying an undeniable surge of viewership—in some cases, an increase of a thousand percent over their historical viewership numbers. And a matching rise in the number of reviews gives us insight into the feelings, or sense of catharsis, people are seeking from these films. Here, we take a survey of recent reactions to the top five—followed by suggestions for digging deeper.

Activist and scholar Angela Davis in ‘13th’.

13th (2016) Directed by Ava DuVernay

At the time of writing, 13th was the current most popular film by volume of activity on Letterboxd. (Within 24 hours of its release, Spike Lee’s Da 5 Bloods jumped into the top spot, with 13th now in second place.) It’s easy to see why Letterboxd members gravitated to the film—Ava DuVernay’s 2016 documentary on the loophole of the 13th Amendment to the Constitution, which effectively allows slavery in the modern day, is comprehensive and convincing.

Built around interviews with a number of Black academics and a thorough history of Jim Crow laws through to modern-day mass incarceration in the US, it’s an important and effective primer for anyone looking for a basic comprehension of new methods of oppression from the state. Part of the film’s power comes from, as member and film critic Josh Lewis puts it, “the way DuVernay sequences this, the way she moves us through the major events, records and timelines with passion and anger, allowing Black voices and art to naturally narrate”.

As with a number of films from the last decade that examine Black protest, there’s a juxtaposition between modern imagery and rhetoric, and systemic racism from a history that America too often insists it has left behind. It makes clear the repetition of this history of oppression for Black Americans with powerful editing, as DuVernay organizes archive footage from the past through to the present day to emphasise this point.

Spike Lee on the set of ‘Do the Right Thing’ (1989).

Do The Right Thing (1989) Directed by Spike Lee

It could be said that the recognition of this repetition is part of why these particular films have proven so popular in recent weeks. Perhaps the most significant part of the engagement with older work like Spike Lee’s (arguably best) film Do The Right Thing, is that the imagery hasn’t aged. As Ashley Clark says in a recent piece for Time on films about Black history and protest, “…it’s amazing to see those patterns repeat now, specifically in the discourse of people focusing more on the destruction of property than on lives that are lost”. Do The Right Thing’s palpable anger and unending relevance make it one of the best fictional films to watch right now, if not for understanding and empathy (“I have a lot of empathizing to do,” Letterboxd member Ted agrees), then for some kind of catharsis.

Denzel Washington as Malcolm X in Spike Lee’s 1992 biopic.

Malcolm X (1992) Directed by Spike Lee

It’s not just Do The Right Thing either—even just going off the numbers, Spike Lee is a go-to name when it comes to engaging with Black people’s history in America and in American film. He’s been engaging with these subjects of protest and anguish for the longest time, and there are few such prolific directors in the way he broaches the subject, crossing the line back and forth between fiction and non-fiction, readily blending the two together in many cases.

That status feels evident in the corresponding surges of popularity for Malcolm X, one of his most acclaimed works, and BlacKkKlansman, one of his most recent. His latest work, the excellent, galvanizing war drama Da 5 Bloods (streaming on Netflix now), acts as a reminder that institutional racism is not just a symptom of the current establishment, but something deeply embedded in American ideology. It’s a multimedia examination of the overlap of racism and imperialism, its arguments backed up by clips of Angela Davis, Kwame Ture, Muhammad Ali and of course Malcolm X.

Malcolm X is a valuable watch in that it provides a loving and complex portrait of a man often vilified by white liberals as much as white conservatives, an example of the ‘wrong’ way to protest or take action. It’s a counterpoint to the reductive and often-held perspective of the man, who is often presumed to have stood in opposition to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It’s a humanist portrait of a man constantly changing, one brought to life by, as Jaime Rebenal writes, “one of cinema’s very finest performances” from Denzel Washington (whom, I must reinforce, was truly robbed of that Oscar). A long film, but not a minute wasted.

David Oyelowo is Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in Ava DuVernay’s ‘Selma’ (2014).

Selma (2014) Directed by Ava DuVernay

On the flip-side of this is Ava DuVernay’s Selma, which paints an equally complicated portrait of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., focusing on the organized action that lead to the Voting Rights Act of 1965. “As sobering as it is galvanizing” writes Letterboxd member and correspondent Ella Kemp. Selma’s vision of MLK was of a complicated man, one steadfast in his commitment to peaceful resistance and protest for civil rights, but still a man as opposed to a saint.

I could talk at length about that supposed saintliness being thrown back in the faces of Black people, as well as the gossip compounded by American institutions to discredit the man’s work—DuVernay and David Oyelowo’s interpretation of MLK saves me that time.

All beautifully lensed by the—at that point—upcoming cinematographer Bradford Young (whose subsequent credits include Arrival and Solo: A Star Wars Story), and with typically gorgeous costume design from Black Panther Oscar-winner Ruth E. Carter (a long-time associate of Spike Lee), it’s a visual treat as well.

Novelist, poet, playwright, essayist and activist James Baldwin.

I Am Not Your Negro (2016) Directed by Raoul Peck

I Am Not Your Negro, Raoul Peck’s documentary-slash-adaptation of the unpublished James Baldwin memoir, provides a similar juxtaposition between America’s past racism and its present. Narrated by Samuel L. Jackson, words from Baldwin’s unfinished manuscript ‘Remember This House’ explore American anti-Blackness through a mixture of archival footage and anecdotes from Baldwin, as he recounts the lives of his civil rights leader friends Malcolm X, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Medgar Evers and others.

As with many other Letterboxd reviews, Daisoujou reflects on the persistence of state-sponsored racism, writing that it’s “a movie that feels like it was made yesterday, based on writings from roughly the 80s, which also feel written yesterday, in the most depressing way”. A lot of identifying with films detailing Black protest is to recognize this cycle, the seeming neverending-ness of it all; that engagement with racism is not just something occurring in the present moment but something that carries the weight of history, at all times.

A scene from Cheryl Dunye’s ‘The Watermelon Woman’ (1996).

These are all strong starting points for the beginning of an empathy with Black protest, struggle, history and art on film. But it’s just scratching the surface. The five films above mostly skew towards the recent, when there’s a long and exceptional history of Black cinema.

It’s important to consider the expansiveness of Black art, that not all of it is about our tragedies, there’s more to witness than our pain, and this deserves attention after crisis as well. K. Austin Collins’ introduction for his Vanity Fair list says it best: “Black defiance on-screen is bigger than Do the Right Thing, however. Black defiance (including but not limited to outright protest), Black anger, Black art: These are vast territories.” As Collins’ excellent two-part list states, the history of our representation and the self-determination of our on-screen legacies of course goes far beyond just the work of Spike Lee and Ava DuVernay.

You could watch Cheryl Dunye’s The Watermelon Woman for a film examining just that: how the narrow idea of ‘representation’ has failed so many, that their own histories have to be invented, and how Black people often have to deal with art’s frequent rejection of their own image.

You could watch the work of Kathleen Collins, you could watch Paris is Burning for a history of New York City ballrooms and drag culture (and here’s K. Austin Collins again with a recent re-reading of that film, in conversation with its white director). The history of Black Britishness also often gets left at the wayside—both Collins and Clark recommend Handsworth Songs and Blacks Britannica for pictures of Black thought and struggle in the context of Thatcher’s Britain (and many more in their aforementioned lists, both well worth checking out).

The protests have also, naturally, lead to conversations around representation of Black people across media, in front of and behind the camera. Such discovery is both vital and easier than ever, as the protests have inspired artists and streaming sites to make their library of work more accessible—among those, the Criterion Channel, having dropped the paywall for much of its collection focusing on Black lives.

Related content

Black Life on Film: a master list, and broken down into sub-genres, by Adam Davie (he discussed the list, a three-year labor of love, on episode 6 of The Letterboxd Show podcast).

Black Saint’s list of Films by Black Directors You Should Watch.

Queer, Black, 21st Century: a list of 21st-century films featuring queer, Black experiences, by Black filmmakers (directors and/or writers), for Pride 2020.

Letterboxd’s official top 100 narrative feature films by Black directors

*It’s important to remember amongst all this that just watching these films isn’t activism; action is also required. Educating yourself is just the first step. Ways you can help, tangibly.

[cinaminho]

Stray Mafia: They get jealous realizing they love their S/O

I'm pretty sure these were two different requests that I just combined, so...

╰ Group: Straykids ft. NCT

╰ Genre: Fluff

╰ Warnings: Poisoning, Swearing, mild violence

Request:Hii, I love your Stray kids mafia series and I was wondering if in the future you could do one where they get kinda jealous or something, too 💕

Plot - During a dinner party that celebrates the merging of StrayxNCT mafia held in your homes ballroom your Fiancee/Husband is all smiles as you look gorgeous and he is handsome, you find yourself surprisingly having a great time with them , they feel the same about you, as the night progresses they indulge in conversation with you enjoying every moment because their heart is doing happy flips, they realize they're no longer just tolerating you, you aren't just someone they live with, you're more than that and they love you, they're in love with you, that's exciting for them.. But what isn't is the attention you attract of others making a bitter knot form in their body at the sight. Approaching the gentlemen that has taken your attention away from him he uses the first method that comes to mind.

.*•°♡

// Chan //

Chan was quietly chatting over future weapon trades with Hyunjin outside the full room that held two now merged organizations plus other business partners that contributed to Different supplies for SKM, a tap on his shoulder from behind got his attention, It was Mark Lee, Taeyong's Right hand man in NCT's mafia.

"It seems that your wife to be is being kept cozy near the fire place by an unknown specimen, he isn't shy about skinship either, she doesn't seem too comfortable with it may I add."

Hearing those words whispered lowly in his ear from one of his new colleagues made his eye twitch. You were finally treating him like the husband he was soon to be as he'd always treated you like his future wife, nobody was going to take that away. Chan looked over his shoulder at the young male, a scowl evident.

"I'll handle it."

Chan exused himself away from his conversation with Hyunjin and Mark, confidently strolling into the ballroom, eyes peeled looking for you, he spotted you half way across the room. His eyes held a murderous glare as he seen the man carress your hand before gently kissing it, but his glare was not towards you as he trudged over to you both, catching your attention first.

"Chan hey..." You words faded as you studied Chan's cold expression. Before you coulf ask what was wrong, Chan's foot collided with the man's chest that sat beside you and out of the chair the man went, Chan gripped the back his neck tighlty so you could evidently see his pale knuckles.

You could hear the man slightly heave and gag as Chan whispered in his ear, he knew you were able to hear as he spoke ,though, you smiled at his words.

"Did you see that woman you were shamelessly flirting with, hm?" He seethed as the man nodded his head the best he could while in Chan's grip.

"That is my wife, not yours or anyone else's, I love her and you shall not blind her from seeing that, now for the sake of your life I suggest you exit the premises before I throw you into the fire place."

Chan snatched his hand away giving the male a chance to get up a scurry off watching him closely before looking to you with a soft smile as if nothing had just happened.

"You look beautiful, Angel."

You smiled gracefully "Thank you, hubby."

..

// Woojin //

As Woojin and Johnny talked in the billard room the doors bursted open as Changbin appeared, Woojin knew something was up since Changbin never interrupted anyone. Woojin put his pool stick down before approaching his fellow member.

"Any trouble?" Woojin already knew the answer but still asked.

"There is a group of drug cartel shippers from your fathers old team surrounding your fiancee out in the garden, I warned them to take off but they insisted on not leaving, I figured you'd rather do the real damage rather than me." Changbin spoke vaguely.

"I fired them and they still have the ordasity to show the likes of themselves around my base, my home?" Woojin laughed amused at just how clueless and bold these men were, they were older than Woojin but no where near as cunning or dangerous .

Woojin quickly headed to the Garden with Changbin and Johhny behind noticing the old creeps blocking his S/O from leaving.

"And just how the hell did you think you'd trespass on my property, harass my Financee without consequences?" Woojin growled causing all eyes to face him including yours.

"Step aside and let Y/n walk through and if I even so much as think you touched them I promise there is a sniper waiting to shoot your eyes to the back of head." Woojin's words were calmly said but still you all knew they held power.

Each man looked at one another contemplating their next move, it should've been a no brainer.

"Y/n, you can move, they won't hurt a splint of hair on your head, I promise you that sweetheart." Woojin held out his hand to you, the smile on his face was so hypnotizing. You took your chance and ran into his embrace as he held you tightly.

Woojin held you close as you snuggled your face into his shoulder, you could feel the vibrations of his voice when he spoke.

"You shouldn't have even thought about it, when I told you to release them you should have done it right then without hesitation. Now I won't hesitate to do what I have to."

In that moment you felt so much love from Woojin and he couldn't hide it you already knew it that moment. You loved him and he loved you by how he spoke. You relaxed under his touch. Your relaxation dispersed as you quickly were brought to the ground by Woojin, he was sheilding you and you soon knew why, shots of a Machine gun were heard making your body instantly react with your voice in toe screaming while protecting your ears from the sound. Woojin seemed unphased, you knew what'd just happened.

..

// Changbin //

He couldn't believe he'd walked into the party with Doyoung by his side chatting instantly noticing a male Trapping you between a wall and his arms as you moved your face to avoid anymore unnecessary contact with him Changbin's lip twitched as his eyes mirrored the scene.

"Are you alright Bin?" Doyoung spoke.

Changbin's vision focused on you and the male as he knew you were trying to be polite in the uncomfortable situation.

"Walk over here with me, business is needed to be handled." Was all he mumbled as the two walked over to the scene.

Your arms were forced to your sides as the male gripped your wrist to prevent you from stopping his advances but the tables quickly turned because before he could process it, his face collided with the cool marble wall, his right arm was being held behind his back raising higher painfully, he was sure his shoulder would pop out of place anytime.

You stepped to the side seeing Doyoung grab your harasser, Changbin soon appeared beside you kissing your temple which startled you at first.

"Are you okay?"

All you could do was nod as he carrassed your cheek gazing at you , something had definitely flipped in him emotionally wise.

"Gather some of these other's and take him to the warehouse near thr port." Changbin ordered clearly speaking to Doyoung but didn't Dare break eye contact with you.

..

// Minho //

Noticing a man spike your drink from afar was something Minho wouldn't imagine happening tonight especially when everyone knew just how many dangerous members of SKM and NCT were here. He'd been watching you both the whole time seeing how you handled the man's attention. He didn't like just sitting there but he wanted to see how loyal you were, he wanted to walk over to that bar and break a glass bottle before slashing the male who dared come on to his Fiancee throat. Seeing him spike your drink gave him the motive to do so. Minho snapped his fingers and Yuta quickly appeared at his side.

"Trouble in paradise I sense?" Yuta chuckled sarcastically as he knew exactly where Minho's glare landed.

"I've got someone treading dangerously on sacred grounds." minho sighed ashamed that he would now have to make a scene.

"No worries my friend, I seen the events just moments ago with my own eyes, I decided to step in they both became distracted by my presence so I switched their drinks, it was purely an extacy pill. Buddy is in for a surprise himself little does he know." Yuta proclaimed.

Minho glanced at him knowingly , as Yuta was known as A silent killer who specialized in poisoned weapons and much more in his mafia.

"Just sit back and watch." Yuta added as they both turned to the scene, You took a sip of your drink gulping it down slowly, your bar friend did the same only after a minute and a half he was gasping for air and clutching his throat.

..

// Hyunjin //

The unfortunate event also happened at the bar except a man came butting into yours and his conversation, rookie mistake number one. Hyunjin was very forgiving at time and even gave his enemies chances to correct their actions so the guy the approached you would be no different. Seeing that the man had only intrest in chattering with you and not necessarily saying things that were polite to Hyunjin's or your ears he knew you were all but okay with this mans comments towards you.

Hyunjin's creased eye smile vanished as he had finally had enough of pretending this guy didn't get on his nerves, it was time to do something. He gently kissed your cheek while looking at the man.

"Honey, do me a favor and go find Jaehyun along with Han ,send them my way, after that go find somewhere comfortable to sit then I'll come and find you." He whispered in your ear lightly before kissing it. You looked at him Thanking him with your eyes as he simply nodded before letting you go.

Once you disappeared in the crowed Hyunjin whipped out his pistol holding it to the man's groin, leaning foward to the man who now was stiff as a board. Hyunjin smirked.

"It appears you think with the wrong parts of your body." His glare was sinister as he pressed the gun farther into the mans reserved area. "I could blow your nuts off right here and now, but I'll allow you to simply to enjoy your drink I've ordered for you."

"I'm not drinking anything." The man retorted, Hyunjin was amused. The clicking of his safety being released off the gun was heard, the male's eyes grew 100x bigger.

"Do as I say or suffer the agonizing pain of me blowing your nuts off."

Hyunjin was fine with either choice but watching the man drink down the slow tranquilizer was better. "Good, you may go now." He smiled. Soon Han and Jaehyun appeared.

"May we help you, Brother?" Han asked.

Hyunjin looked at them. "Follow him around, soon you'll have to disposal him." Hyunjin grinned at the man but there was still a hint of maniac in his eye.

"Enjoy your last few minutes breathing that drink is slowly eating at your insides, at least you'll go quickly."

..

// Jisung //

You guys were in the middle of the dance floor dancing to slow classical music enjoying each other's warmth and sents. You guys were having a great time until the music switched indicating it was time to get new partners, Jisung quickly pecked your lips before you letting you go, you guys watched each other as you graced the arms of strangers, as more people glided across the floor you lost sight of each other.

The man who's arm's were around your waist reaked of alcohol. You tried not to inhale the mess but it was strong, his breath hit your forehead as you didn't look anywhere but at your moving feet wishing the music would switch already. The man let out an uncomfortable hum as he pressed his body to yours caressing your back, you pressed against him you acting against his actions but he was stronger.

"Don't fight against it just enjoy it baby." The male chuckled darkly. You gasped before kneeing him in the balls, the guy clutched his precious area as he fell to his knees soon a fist collided with his face that wasn't yours. You looked to see it was Jisung and he didn't look happy.

"Jisung did you-" he quickly nodded before taking your hand in his and leading you away without a word. Without him even having to say anything The new combined mafia charged towards the man that caused the altercation, you heard pained moans and yelps. You wanted to look back so badly.

"Don't look back." Jisung ordered as if he had read your mind.

..

// Felix //

It was honestly hilarious for him to watch this unknowing individual try his luck with you, he laughed as you shut him down everytime, but, now boundaries were being crossed when the man forcefully dragged you by your forearm towards the balcony since you refused his invitation the first four times. Jeno was next to him also watching the scene.

"Should we move now?" He asked but Felix simply shook his head, "wait til he they're closer." His low voice spoke. His eyes were cut on you and his prey.

Soon you were being dragged towards the balcony with much refuse using all your force you let out a pained cry, Felix's ears practically perked up at the sound.

"Move now." Was all he said.

Soon he and Jeno were hot on your trails Jeno stepped in front of you both as Felix stood behind you. While he was distracted you snatched your arm away from the weirdo's grasp. From over your shoulder Felix seem the print of his naild where they were dug into your arm, the sight made him bite the inside of his cheek. Jeno slammed the Male's back into the near by wall preventing much of his breathing by blocking his airway with an arm.

Felix Cleared his throat catching your attention but you didn't speak as you knew he was angry, though, it wasn't at you, you were going to let him handle his business. Felix walked towards Jeno and the male he held beneath his arm.

"What do you want me to do now?" Jeno questioned. Felix looked the disgusting human up and down smuggly before shrugging.

"Do as you please with him , mate, just make sure he doesn't bother my flower again."

Jeno took that as an invitation, he threw the man towards the open balcony soon following, he looked at the both of you Bowing before closing the balcony door so no one could hear the events that would take place.

[kenzie-kitty]

Part 3 of Crazy Couple -Masquerade x Joker

Part 1 || Part 2

This is the third and final part of Crazy Couple. This part definitely has NSFW, you’ve been warned.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had just set as Mask and Joker sat atop a rooftop in the midst of the city. They watched as the Gothamites rushed home from work, disgruntled and as serious as heart attacks. Mask flung two wrappers from her pieces of gum over the edge and watched boredly as they floated to the ground. She then fiddled with the twin pistols strapped onto each hip on the large belt of her black skirt, impatient for them to begin their mischief.

Joker giggled once before giving Mask the signal, and she pressed the button on the detonator he was holding out to her. Suddenly, all speakers in the vicinity began playing “Killer Klowns from Outer Space” by The Dickies and a building a street away erupted, and Mask and Joker began laughing hysterically. Mask jumped down to the sidewalk where a group of scared people had stopped to huddle and stare. She landed amongst them and grinned madly at them. She flipped out her blade and slashed at the closest two people, severing both of their jugulars in one sweep. Joker came out of the alleyway beside the building and began shooting a machine gun into the crowd, killing a number of people.

Civilians started running and screaming, trying to avoid Mask and Joker, who both were made up to look like two different clowns; both were laughing maniacally as they killed as many people as possible. Before long, the sound of sirens blaring came closer and the song began to repeat as they arrived on scene and tried shooting the duo. They held two people in front of them to cover from the bullets from the police. Mask grabbed the second machine gun that was across Joker’s chest and shot a spray of bullets at the police cars, killing two thirds of them.

Another building behind them exploded with an array of fireworks, illuminating the shape of a large bat flying above the scene and coming in for a landing. Joker motioned to Mask, who quickly ran down the alley and grabbed their two bags which were filled with more weapons. She handed one to Joker and pulled the other’s strap over her head and pulled out a crow bar.

Batman landed behind them, opposite the cops, and Mask pressed another button, this time changing the song that was playing to “Pretty Little Psycho” by Porcelain Black. Batman lunged forward at her and she dodged by cartwheeling out of the way. She spun the crowbar with one hand and grinned at him. He rushed her, and she countered by spin-kicking him in the chest, sending him flying back. The police stopped shooting and Joker dropped his shield to join her; he flipped out his switchblade and jumped onto Batman’s back, cutting into his shoulder as Mask hit Batman’s stomach and chest to the end of the crowbar repeatedly. Joker jumped down from Batman and spun around to grab his gun, but was knocked over by Batman’s hard kick to his side. Mask hit Batman in the side of the head with the crowbar, knocking him to the ground next to where Joker had landed, and straddled his chest, still grinning ear to ear now giggling.

Batman tried to kick her off, but she began beating him with the crowbar, striking so fast he could barely breathe. Joker fell back onto his back in whooping laughter laughter as Batman’s blood was splattered on the pavement and Mask. She stopped and pressed the crowbar across his shoulders, leaning onto them and smiling into his cowled face.

“Nice ta meetchya, Batboy,” she giggled. “I’ve been waiting to meet the ‘Great Bat’! Unfortunately, J and I have to be somewhere now. Toodles!” She shouted, quickly jumping off of him and pulling Joker to his feet. The two grabbed their bags and ran into the alley, leaving both the police and Batman stunned.

~~~~~~~~~

Mask jumped into the passenger seat of Joker’s van just as he was about to drive away; the majority of their men were in the back seat, holding a machine gun each, in case they had to fight. Mask and Joker were laughing madly as he sped down the street toward the apartment building. They both jumped out of the van as soon as it stopped and whooped along with Joker and a few of the men. They all piled inside, with Joker and Mask entering last, and began to have a small celebration of their success.

The large kitchen area for the staff had packs of beer, bottles of alcohol and an assortment of foods. Mask grabbed a beer and an enchilada and sat on top of one of the long tables with her fishnet-clad legs swinging over the edge; Joker was with a small group of his favorite men, each of them with a bottle in their hands, though Joker had a bottle of vodka. Mask finished her enchilada and sipped her beer, watching the muted TV playing a report over their attack from that evening. Someone turned on a radio in the corner and Mask smirked when it was set on a classic rock station, playing a song by AC/DC.

Joker walked over and stood in between Mask’s legs with one hand on her thigh and the other holding the half-empty vodka bottle. “I’m thinking your insanity matches mine,” he said with a slight slur.

Mask giggled. “Or maybe we’re just the same type of insane.”

“Maybe we do,” Joker said quietly, slowly rubbing her thigh with his hand. “We should take our party away from these oafs.”

Mask smirked and shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

They went up the stairs to Joker’s apartment and he sat heavily in his chair, making his spin around slowly as Mask giggled and sat on the edge of the bed. Joker stopped spinning and giggled with her, the sound making it obvious that the vodka, which was now almost empty, had gotten to his head.

“Well, someone’s a bit drunk,” Mask said, smirking.

Joker shrugged half-heartedly. “It’s called a party for a reason, gorgeous. Don’t like hard liquor?” he asked, nodding toward her second bottle of beer.

She shrugged, taking a sip. “Meh, I just prefer beer. It’s what I started with, and it’s what I’ve grown used to. I mean, wine coolers are pretty good, too.”

He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at her suddenly. “How old are you?”

“I’m 23. Why?”

“Checking to see if you’re of age,” he replied, standing and walking to her. He cupped her cheek roughly, though she wasn’t hurt, and pressed his lips against hers in a rough kiss. Mask stilled and waited a heartbeat before relaxing and lightly putting her hands on his chest, kissing him back with a matched roughness.

He leaned forward more, causing her to fall backwards onto the bed; he was over her, leaning on one hand, and he positioned himself so he was straddling her legs. She sighed lightly as he tongue slid into her mouth and she sucked on it slightly, bringing out a moan from him. They paused to breathe and Joker chuckled lowly.

“I wasn’t, uh, sure that you’d let me do that,” he said quietly, almost seeming bashful.

Mask wiped some of the residue of her dark red lipstick from his bottom lip and smirked. “I happen to have a thing for psychotic clowns. Er, well, just one actually,” she giggled.

He grinned at her and ducked his head to nibble along her neck; she squirmed from the feeling of his teeth scratching along her sensitive skin and moaned into his ear. He shifted his weight to his other leg and Mask smiled when she felt his hard manhood pressed against her leg.

“Well, no one can accuse the alcohol of going to your cock,” she joked lightly.

He chuckled against her neck and kissed wetly along her jaw until he returned to her lips. “I haven’t had that much.”

She chuckled back before flipping them so she was now straddling him. “But you’ve still had a whole bottle.”

He gave her a false offended look. “I’m perfectly fiiine, honey.”

“Don’t call me honey,” she said, pretending to be offended back but unable to stop from grinning as she snapped her hips forward, making him gasp sharply and buck up into her. “Aw, does Mistah J want more? Well, he’s gonna have to beg for it,” she taunted sliding her hands up his chest, pushing his shirt with them and unbuttoning it at the same time. She kissed and licked up his stomach and chest to his neck where she bit down just enough to cause a slight sting but not enough to draw blood or bruise. Joker moaned with every move she made.

“M-more… Please, more. Mask!” he shouted when she suddenly grabbed his crotch and squeezed, making his hips lift so he could try to grind into her hand. Mask giggled and slowly unbuttoned his purple slacks before kissing just above the waistband of his boxers. “Mask, fuck! I’m not the most patient of men.”

“As you wish, Mistah J,” she chimed, pulling his cock free from his underwear and licking slowly from the base to the tip.

Joker moaned loudly and his hips bucked toward her mouth, and she avoided being choked by sitting back up. She crawled slowly up his body so she was on her hands and knees above him; she pulled her corseted top off and threw it to the side, giggling when his hands immediately began fondling her large breasts.

“M-Mask…,” he growled, one hand going to her hip as she grinded into his. “Fuck! Ma-Ah!”

Mask giggled when she felt his already leaking cock twitch under her ass. “You’ll have to tell me what it is you want, doll, because I wouldn’t want to do anything wrong,” she said, feigning innocence.

Joker growled lowly and glare at her with heated eyes and smeared makeup. “Just fuck me already you little sl-Ah, fuck!”

Mask cut off his sentence by lowering herself quickly onto his cock and twisting her hips slightly as she rocked forward with her hands on his shoulders. She leaned down and licked up his throat, feeling the vibrations from his long moan on her tongue, making her smile. “What was that, Mistah J?”

“Mask, you sexy, insane, dirty little vixen. Just fucking fuck me already!”

“As you wish, handsome,” she drawled, sitting up and beginning to rock her hips in a fast rhythm that made Joker grunt and moan loudly, his lips never closing even as he swiped his tongue across them every now and then. Mask joined him in the noises, though that made his louder and nearly drowned her own out; after only minutes they were both panting heavily and sweating as he met her downward thrusts with upward thrusts.

Suddenly, Joker flipped them so he was on top and her legs were wrapped around his waist; he thrust deeper inside her in an even faster rhythm that seemed almost inhuman. Mast tangled her fingers through his bright green hair and tugged, making his growl at her and attack her lips in a messy kiss. They fought for dominance in the kiss, but Joker won by slipping a hand down and rolling a finger over her clit, which made her back arch up as she yelped in pleasure.

“Fuck, J! K-keep doing-ng that!” she moaned, rolling her hips for more friction. “Please!”

“As you wish, Masquerade,” he purred in her ear, speeding up his finger and curving his thrusts upward. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“M-me, too,” she replied, breathless, as she felt the warm tingling in the pit of her stomach.

Joker’s thrusts became more wild, and he lasted only three thrusts more. Mask moaned and gasped as her climax rolled over her, and Joker came with one final thrust into her warm depths. He breathlessly flopped down on the bed next to her, one arm snaking under her neck as she whimpered through the last of her climax. After a few minutes of calming down, they looked at each other’s makeup-covered faces and laughed; Mask had lipstick smeared around her mouth and on her neck and chest, and Joker’s makeup was half off of his face and smeared on various parts of his body.

“That… was great,” he said, grinning madly.

“Indeed,” she replied with a giggle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An explosion sounded and the brick building of Gotham City High School crashed down into burning rubble. Mask and Joker stood on the roof of a neighboring building with their fingers entwined, laughing together at their destruction.

Batman flew overhead and landed behind them silently and stood behind the building’s roof maintenance closet, watching as they play fought each other. ‘Two years together and neither has changed one bit. It’s as if they were made in the other’s image,’ he thought to himself, remembering the past two years he had put up with them. ‘I suppose it’s charming in their own sick way.’

He stepped out from the shadows and immediately caught their eyes.

“Hello, Batsy!” They both cheered viciously.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End!

I hope y’all enjoyed the story!

Stick around for more of my fanfictions, I’m thinking of adding a more recent one soon here.

Love y’all for sticking around this far!

[luckyladybug16]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba (Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kamado Tanjirou/Shinazugawa Genya, Kamado Tanjirou & Shinazugawa Genya Characters: Kamado Tanjirou, Shinazugawa Genya Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Shinazugawa Genya Swears A Lot, no really this is rated just for his potty mouth, Tanjiro's gay panic deserves its own tag, lowkey pining, How Do I Tag, Why Did I Write This?, i spent two hours finding the name of tanjiro's crow, so of course i'm gonna use it, Not Beta Read, Vaguely Post-Canon Summary:

"Genya is kneeling, hunched over his low desk with a haphazard spread of papers in front of him and a hand buried in his hair, thick framed glasses starting to slip down his nose. He looks tired, like he hasn’t slept in days—the evidence etched in bruises under his eyes and the irritated tic of his jaw.

He’s gorgeous, in the way that a raw gem is gorgeous, rough and unrefined, sparkling with potential. It’s the scariest thought that Tanjiro has had in all his eighteen years."

(or: sometimes your friend suddenly wears glasses and turns the whole world on its end, no big deal.)

[eddycurrents]

For the week of 24 June 2019

Quick Bits:

Action Comics #1012 keeps a number of plates spinning with the Invisible Mafia, Leviathan, and tying in events in Superman, while bringing back a character who we’ve not seen for some time in the DCU. Some great layouts and art from Szymon Kudranski and Brad Anderson.

| Published by DC Comics

Age of X-Man: X-Tremists #5 is the explosive conclusion to this mini from Leah Williams, Georges Jeanty, Roberto Poggi, Jim Charalampidis, and Clayton Cowles. We get Jubilee’s perspective on the end, as they all collectively remember what came before, what was taken from them, and the nightmare that they’ve been placed in and forced to participate. Damn good stuff.

| Published by Marvel

Amazing Spider-Man #24 is a lot of Peter avoiding dealing with things in a rational adult manner and some weird stuff with Mysterio and the new villain who has been haunting the series for a while. My guess is that it’s Ned Leeds, but his true identity is still hidden for the moment. Pretty good for a buffer issue.

| Published by Marvel

Angel #2 is another entertaining issue from Bryan Edward Hill, Gleb Melnikov, Gabriel Cassata, and Ed Dukeshire. There’s another nice split as we see a bit of Angel’s past as he reforges a slayer as his “axe” and then a dive into the current evil plaguing the kids in social media. Wonderful reveal of Lilith’s “true form” as well, great design by Melnikov.

| Published by BOOM! Studios

Ascender #3 is harrowing and breathtaking. While Andy and Mila try to run in the present, we get more information on what happened with them and Effie in the time between Descender and now. Gorgeous, stunning artwork from Dustin Nguyen.

| Published by Image

Bad Luck Chuck #4 concludes what has been a fun, but weird, series from Lela Gwenn, Matthew Dow Smith, Kelly Fitzpatrick, and Frank Cvetkovic. And it ends with a pretty epic battle between cops and nuns.

| Published by Dark Horse

Black Panther #13 begins the next arc of “Two Thousand Suns” and T’Challa’s attempts to contact anyone back on Earth. Daniel Acuña returns to provide the art and it is beautiful. The effects as T’Challa attempts to calculate a communication path to Earth with the various planets and such are amazing.

| Published by Marvel

Detective Comics #1006 begins a new arc guest-starring the Spectre, with art from Kyle Hotz and David Baron. The Corrigan/Spectre joining sure works different than it used to. Interesting mystery with the Spectre cult and great art.

| Published by DC Comics

Ghost Tree #3 takes a few nice moments of quiet introspection and reflection from Brandt and Arami, as well as exploring more of Brandt’s grandparents life, before ramping up the tension with the demon. Beautiful artwork from Simon Gane, Ian Herring, and Becka Kinzie.

| Published by IDW

Justice League Dark #12 has huge ramifications as “Lords of Order” rages on. Stunning artwork from Alvaro Martínez Bueno, Raul Fernandez, and Brad Anderson. Also Tynion gives us a fascinating rumination on magic between Batman and Wonder Woman.

| Published by DC Comics

Killer Groove #2 continues this excellent crime drama. The little pieces of interaction and tiny character stories throughout this issue are wonderful. Ollie Masters’ approach to the narrative reminds me a lot of Robert Altman. 

| Published by AfterShock

Road of Bones #2 leans hard into the brutal survival aspect of travelling across Russia in winter, without much idea or sense of where you’re going. Wonderful art from Alex Cormack.

| Published by IDW

The Silencer #18 concludes this series with a kind of stock-taking story from Dan Abnett, V. Ken Marion, Sandu Florea, Mike Spicer, and Tom Napolitano. There’s some bits about the reconciliation between Blake and Honor, but a large portion of this is Honor trying to find out information on what’s happening with Leviathan. 

| Published by DC Comics

Stranger Things: Six #2 continues to flesh out the time before the first season at Hawkins Labs as we continue to follow Francine through her past and experiences there. There’s a wonderful feeling of dread with the glimpses of the Upside Down.

| Published by Dark Horse

Thor #14 builds on events in War of the Realms #6 with a story that is concurrent with what happens in that book diving into the younger Thor’s perspective. Great art from Scott Hepburn and Matthew Wilson.

| Published by Marvel

Transformers/Ghostbusters #1 is a great debut from Erik Burnham, Dan Schoening, Luis Antonio Delgado, and Tom B. Long beautifully integrating the two properties here. Cybertron as destroyed by Gozer is just wonderful, and there’s a nice bit of humour that fits well with Burnham and Schoening’s other Ghostbusters work.

| Published by IDW

War of the Realms #6 is the conclusion to this event with Jason Aaron, Russell Dauterman, Matthew Wilson, and Joe Sabino giving us a “storm of Thors”. It’s fairly epic as Thor and Malekith meet in the final confrontation, capping off one of the longest narrative arcs in Marvel that began back in Thor: God of Thunder #1 years ago. There’s more to come, but this is a very satisfying end.

| Published by Marvel

The Weatherman #1 is a welcome return for the second volume of this series from Jody LeHeup, Nathan Fox, Moreno Dinisio, and Steve Wands. The story shifts as the team search for the clue to unlocking Bright’s memories on the one place we thought previously was all dead...Earth. Great stuff.

| Published by Image

Wolverine: Exit Wounds #1 is another of Marvel’s 80th Anniversary one-shots, this one presenting three stories from some of the luminary creators that have worked on Wolverine before. The standout for me is the Wolverine/Venom story from Sam Kieth and Ronda Pattison. It’s a simple Vs. story, but the artwork is gorgeous. Larry Hama, Scot Eaton, Sean Parsons, and Matt Milla & Chris Claremont, Salvador Larroca, and Val Staples provide the other two stories giving a glimpse into other stages in Logan’s past. Joe Sabino provides letters for all three stories and it’s nice to see how he adapts for the tone and style of each tale.

| Published by Marvel

Wonder Woman #73 is a fill-in from Steve Orlando, Aaron Lopresti, Matt Ryan, Romulo Fajardo Jr., and Pat Brosseau giving us a story of Diana’s past in an alternate reality. It’s a decent tale on its own, giving a hint at something important for the ongoing story.

| Published by DC Comics

Other Highlights: Avengers #20, Battlestar Galactica: Twilight Command #5, The Beauty #27, Bone Parish #10, Books of Magic #9, Canto #1, Conan the Barbarian #7, The Crow/Hack/Slash #1, Dark Red #4, Deadly Class #39, Diabolical Summer, Dial H for Hero #4, Dick Tracy Forever #3, Doctor Strange #15, Eve Stranger #2, Fantastic Four #11, Fight Club 3 #6, The Flash #73, Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #8, GLOW #3, The Goon #3, Head Lopper #12, High Level #5, Invader Zim #44, Isola #8, Kick-Ass #15, KISS: The End #3, Magnificent Ms. Marvel #4, Major X #5, Marilyn Manor #1, Martian Manhunter #6, Marvel Comics Presents #6, Mighty Morphin Power Rangers #40, Mr. & Mrs. X #12, Punk Mambo #3, Punks Not Dead: London Calling #5, Redneck #21, Rick & Morty #51, Runaways #22, Spawn #298, Spider-Man Annual #1, Star Wars: Age of Rebellion - Darth Vader #1, Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge #3, Steel Cage #1, Stone Star #4, Summit #15, Superior Spider-Man #8, Teen Titans: Raven, Thanos #3, Thief of Thieves #43, War of the Realms: New Agents of Atlas #4, War of the Realms: The Punisher #3, War of the Realms: Uncanny X-Men #3, X-Men: Grand Design - X-Tinction #2

Recommended Collections: Breakneck, Coda - Volume 2, Fearscape - Volume 1, Hardcore - Volume 1, HP Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness - Volume 1, Interceptor - Volume 1, Joe Golem: Occult Detective - Volume 3: The Drowning City, Man of Steel, Old Lady Harley, Outcast - Book 3, Relay - Volume 1, Shock - Volume 2, Star Wars: Doctor Aphra - Volume 5: Worst Among Equals, Starjammers, Tony Stark: Iron Man - Volume 2: Stark Realities, Usagi Yojimbo - Volume 33: The Hidden, Wasted Space - Volume 1, West Coast Avengers - Volume 2: City of Evils

d. emerson eddy enjoys frozen cheesecake bites.

[recentanimenews]

Demon Slayer the Movie: Mugen Train – All Aboard

In 2020, and what I believe to be the first time ever, the highest grossing film of the year wasn’t American. It wasn’t Chinese, either, which one could reasonably expect to be the first non-American film to take the crown. No, it was Demon Slayer the Movie: Mugen Train. That’s an achievement that may never be matched. It also broke the record for home box office gross, now reigning over both Spirited Away and Your Name.

$500 million gross is a lot of cash to rake in, especially during a global pandemic. But after finally getting around to watch Mugen Train, which is essentially “Season 1.5” of the series, I totally understand why: it is an absolute crowd pleaser stuffed with action, comedy, and drama. I laughed; I cried; I may have pumped my fist and shouted “Fuck yeah!” once or twice.

But! Mugen Train is merely a very good movie. It is certainly a very good movie watching experience. What it is definitely not is a great film, and falls far short of the masterpiece status of the anime films whose records it broke. There is no single big reason for that, but several smaller ones which become evident throughout its prestigious 117-minute runtime.

* * * * *

First, as we know from the end of the first season (yes, you really should watch it), a Kasugai crow ordered Tanjirou (with Nezuko on his back), Zenitsu, and Inosuke to join Flame Hashira Rengoku Kyoujurou aboard the titular Mugen Train, which has a demon problem. Rengoku is, as most high-ranking warriors in these kinds of shows, a bit of an eccentric, but has heard about Tanjirou and Nezuko and is even willing to train him.

Their demon opponent is Enmu, a member of the Lower Six and the group’s resident “gross body horror” niche occupied by the likes of Bleach’s 12th Captain, Kurotsuchi Mayuri (or more recently, Jujutsu Kaisen’s Mahito). Enmu spends much of the movie standing atop the front of the train, talking about how much he’s looking forward to devouring its 200 passengers but never actually doing so despite having ample opportunity. Ya know, typical big bad behavior.

Enmu’s preferred way of rendering his prey helpless is by putting them to sleep. He has made four regular human passengers plus the conductor into his minions: the tickets the conductor punches contain a bit of his blood which is used to put the slayers to sleep along with everyone else. In exchange, the minions are promised wonderful dreams in which to lose themselves.

With all the demon slayers asleep, we take a look into the dreams they’re having, none of which come as much of a surprise. Tanjirou’s is a very happy dream in which he’s reunited with his family, who act like they were never slaughtered by a demon. Suffice it to say, it’s an easy dream to get lost in.

Zenitsu’s dream involves frolicking through forests and fields with Nezuko, which would be touching were his relationship with her in the show not so easily boiled down to “one-sided obsession” or simply “toxic.” Inosuke’s dream is aggressively weird and surreal, like him, but like Zenitsu and Tanjirou’s doesn’t offer any further insight into the character.

Rengoku’s does, but only because aside from a couple of brief scenes last season, we don’t really know who the guy is. What we do get is pure hero boilerplate: following in the footsteps of a former Hashira father who gave up the life and doesn’t care anymore, while having to be both big brother and father figure to his younger brother to keep him from falling into despair. Also, their sainted mom is dead.

Ultimately the dreams aren’t supposed to be particularly enlightening to us, as long as they keep the dreamers occupied and distracted. The minions then go in, find the edges of their dreams, tear them open with what look like icepicks provided by Enmu, and pass into the subconscious where their spiritual cores lie. Obviously, none of the minions succeeds.

Tanjirou already has an inkling he’s in a world of illusion, since his default thoughts are that his family is dead and Nezuko is a demon, so his senses must be wrong. His subconscious actually reaches out to him through a reflection in the water, telling him he needs to wake up, even if it’s being made very difficult to do so because it means running away from his confused and upset family.

His minion, by the way, sought relief in his dreams because in the waking world he was wasting away from Tuberculosis. When he reaches Tanjirou’s gorgeous (and very Spirited Away-esque!) subconscious, he doesn’t have the heart to go through with destroying his core. Tanjirou ends up waking up by slashing his neck with his own sword—call it the equivalent of the “kicks” in Inception that wake you up from dreams (or dreams within dreams).

Tanjirou is the first to wake up. Rengoku’s survival instinct kicks in and he chokes his minion before she can destroy his core (a very graphic depiction of violence against a woman that’s very oddly scored as triumphant) but he remains asleep. Tanjirou sees that Nezuko burned away the rope connecting him to his minion, and asks her to burn away the others’ ropes while he goes topside to meet the boss.

After exchanging some standard big-bad/hero dialogue, Tanjirou manages to behead Enmu, but of course his head isn’t really his head, nor his body his real body. Turns out he’s merged with the train, meaning the entire train his his body, with his head hidden…somewhere (the head of the train).

Enmu then continues to put Tanjirou to sleep, taking the same route as the Farscape masterpiece “Won’t Get Fooled Again”, turning the dreams into increasingly disturbing nightmares to throw the hero off his game. Tanjirou counters this by continuously slashing his neck as soon as he enters his dream.

With every surface of the train suddenly erupting with reddish-purple goo, suddenly all 200 passengers have to be protected at once. Fortunately, thanks to Nezuko burning their ropes the others start waking up, starting with Inousuke, who is ready to rumble. Nezuko slashes at the tentacles attacking passengers, but is quickly overwhelmed and restrained.

Enter Zenitsu, who gets to have a seriously badass moment with his thunder breathing assault, rescuing her from her doom. Let it be said this film does nothing to make Nezuko more of the bit character/mascot she devolved into in the anime, and outside of Tanjirou and Zenitsu’s dreams, she never speaks, which remains odd as there are plenty of demons who can talk.

All the commotion caused by Zenitsu’s thunder and lightning finally wakes up Rengoku, who has does his whole “how have I been sleeping through all this” line, and fills the cars with tentacle-burning flames (which naturally don’t affect the passengers). He orders Tanjirou and Inousuke to find Enmu’s head while he protects the passengers in five of the eight cars and Zenitsu and Nezuko handles the remaining three.

When his best water breathing technique can only tear away the flesh of Enmu’s “neck” to reveal the bone, Tanjirou employs his dad’s Hinokami Kagura breathing, which does the trick. Enmu’s real head is separated from his body (the train) and in his death throes, the train is derailed and crashes…which really should kill a lot of the passengers, yet doesn’t.

During his struggle with Enmu the minion conductor stabbed Tanjirou in the abdomen, but Rengoku quickly teaches Tanjirou how to use Total Concentration, Constant to staunch his broken blood vessel. Even so, Tanjirou is in no condition to fight anymore, with more than forty minutes left in the film. Enmu slowly disintegrates after lots of whining, including about how he was never able to enjoy his meal (which was all his fault) or rise to the ranks of the Upper Ten.

Right on cue, one of the members of that Upper Ten shows up completely out of the blue: the Upper Three, Akaza, covered in tatts and slightly resembling an evil Tanjirou with his short-cropped red hair. And while the ensuing duel between Akaza and Rengoku is pretty cool, the combat animation isn’t appreciably better than that of the TV show. More importantly, Akaza and the battle feel tacked on rather than a natural escalation of the conflict.

It also begs the question of if an even bigger demon big bad could show up willy-nilly, why couldn’t the same be true of other Hashira? The answer is, because the movie needs Rengoku to die, even though he was being set up as Tanjirou’s new mentor and big brother figure. At the end of the day, Akaza can regenerate almost instantly, while Rengoku is a mortal human of flesh and blood, and the wounds he suffers prove fatal.

The climax of the film also plays with the timing of the rising of the sun, which begins to light Akaza’s face as Rengoku tries to hold him in place so he’ll disintegrate. Instead, he flees into the forest to fight another day and provide Tanjirou with a future opponent with whom to avenge Rengoku. Like Demon Slayer reinforcements, the sun doesn’t show up when you’d think it should.

The final act consists of Rengoku providing Tanjirou the same encouragement as his little brother in his dream (and presumably in real life), as well as meeting his force ghost sainted mother, who tells him she’s proud of him (he did reject Akaza’s repeated offers to turn him into a demon, after all). Tanjirou is naturally very upset over losing another important person in his life.

As for the impact it had on me…the film just didn’t do the adequate legwork to make him anything more than a passing guest star. He had a few goofy moments, a few badass moments, and a very long death scene, and was suddenly gone, seemingly as soon as he arrived.

So as much of a funny, thrilling and sometimes genuinely moving crowd-pleaser as Mugen Train was, as a sequel to the series it fulfilled a fairly utilitarian role, establishing how tough the Hashira can be, while establishing that the most powerful demons are even tougher, on the biggest screen possible.

It also gave Tanjirou both further motivation to fight the demons, though considering what he’s lost so far, I’d say he already had plenty, as well as the direction to the next nugget of info about his pop’s Kagura, which he’ll surely pursue in the second season. Mugen Train had no shortage of faults to go with its merits, but one thing at which it unassailably succeeded was making me excited for the second season, for which my ticket is already punched.

By: braverade

[aion-rsa]

Xbox Game Pass: New Games for November 2020 Revealed

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Xbox Game Pass is Microsoft’s subscription service for Xbox One owners. It’s designed to be like a “Netflix for games,” where you pay a simple monthly rate and get access to loads of games for download. It’s not to be confused with the Xbox Live Gold membership, which gives users a selection of free games each month.

There was a huge surge in popularity and profile for Xbox Game Pass in 2018, mainly due to Microsoft unveiling a strategy that puts brand new games on the service. Sea of Thieves was the first example of this, followed by State of Decay 2. Crackdown 3 launched on Feb. 15. Since then, the service has seen the Day 1 launch of several Xbox exclusives, including Gears 5, The Outer Worlds, and Halo: Reach on the Halo: The Master Chief Collection.

Membership to Xbox Game Pass will set you back $9.99 per month. You can now also get an Xbox Game Pass Ultimate subscription for $1 for the first month and $14.99 a month after that. The subscription includes an Xbox Live Gold membership as well as all of the games offered on Xbox Game Pass and Xbox Game Pass for PC. Plus, with cloud support, you can play a selection of Xbox Game Pass titles on your Android phone!

New games are added each month to Xbox Game Pass. Here are the games coming in November (with descriptions courtesy of the Xbox team):

Xbox Game Pass: Games for November 2020

Celeste (Android, Console & PC) – November 5

Help Madeline survive her inner demons on her journey to the top of Celeste Mountain, in this super-tight platformer from the creators of TowerFall. Brave hundreds of hand-crafted challenges, uncover devious secrets, and piece together the mystery of the mountain.

Comanche (PC) – November 5

Comanche is a modern helicopter shooter set in the near future. You have the choice to delve into the evolving single-player campaign and make a difference in a conflict of global proportions or compete with other Comanche players from all around the world in the explosive, team-based multiplayer modes.

Deep Rock Galactic (Android, Console & PC) – November 5

A 1 to 4 player co-op FPS featuring badass space Dwarves, 100% destructible environments, procedurally-generated caves, and endless hordes of alien monsters. It’s a one-of-a-kind co-op experience with four specialized classes, a plethora of heavy weaponry and high-tech gadgets, and next-level space mining to collect gold, gems, and other precious minerals for your corporate overlords.

Eastshade (Android, Console & PC) – November 5

You are a travelling painter, exploring the island of Eastshade. Capture the world on canvas using your artist’s easel. Talk to the inhabitants to learn about their lives. Make friends and help those in need. Discover mysteries and uncover secrets about the land. Surmount natural impasses to reach forgotten places. Experience how your actions impact the world around you.

Knights and Bikes (Console & PC) – November 5

Knights and Bikes is a hand-painted action-adventure for 1 or 2 players, set on a British Island in the 1980s. It’s a coming-of-age story starring Nessa & Demelza, exploring the coasts of Penfurzy on their trusty bikes, looking for a legendary lost treasure in a Goonies-inspired tale of excitement, danger, fun and friendship.

Ark: Survival Evolved: Explorer’s Edition (Android, Console & PC) – November 17

Combining the base game (already available with Xbox Game Pass) with 3 massive Expansion Packs, Ark: Survival Evolved Explorer’s Edition is an ultimate way to get even more dinosaur action! The Explorer’s Edition gives you access to the mega hit Ark: Survival Evolved as well as the Scorched Earth, Aberration, and Extinction expansion packs, adding nearly 900 hours of gameplay! Each DLC is available for individual download as well.

Xbox Game Pass: Games for October 2020

Doom Eternal (Android & Console) – October 1

One of the best shooters of 2020 is coming to Xbox Game Pass. Hell’s armies have invaded Earth and now you must become the Slayer in an epic single-player campaign to conquer demons across dimensions and stop the final destruction of humanity. Experience the ultimate combination of speed and power in Doom Eternal – the next leap in push-forward, first-person combat. The only thing they fear… is you.

Drake Hollow (PC) – October 1

Drake Hollow is a cooperative action village-building game set in The Hollow – a blighted mirror of our world – in which players build and defend villages of Drakes, the lovable, local vegetable folk. Whether solo or with friends, players follow the guidance of a mysterious crow to explore a dynamically generated world of islands trapped in poisonous aether and help the Drakes restore their camp.

Brütal Legend (Console) – October 8

Double Fine Productions cult classic action-comedy Brütal Legend is coming to Xbox Game Pass. Follow the unlikely adventure of Eddie Riggs, a humble roadie (voiced by Jack Black!) drawn into an alternate world of gnarly demons, fire-breathing beasts, and heavy metal music. Brütal Legend mixes hack and slash mayhem with huge strategy battles as Eddie and a band of stalwart heroes fight to free the world from a demonic overlord. Featuring a vibrant voice cast and cameo appearances from some of the world’s biggest rock musicians, Brütal Legend is a celebration of all things heavy and metal.

Forza Motorsport 7 (Android, Console, & PC) – October 8

Experience the thrill of motorsport at the limit with the most comprehensive, beautiful, and authentic racing game ever made. Forza Motorsport 7 is where racers, drifters, drag racers, tuners, and creators come together in a community devoted to everything automotive. Drive the cars of your dreams, with more than 700 amazing vehicles to choose from including the largest collection of Ferraris, Porsches, and Lamborghinis ever. Challenge yourself across 30 famous destinations and 200 ribbons, where race conditions change every time you return to the track. Experience it all in gorgeous 60fps and native 4K resolution in HDR!

Ikenfell (Console & PC) – October 8

A turn-based-tactical RPG about a group of troublesome magic students. Use time-based combat mechanics to power your spells and block attacks, explore the twisted halls of a vast magic school, fight challenging monsters and bosses, find tons of hidden treasure, and uncover dark secrets never meant to be found.

Age of Empires III: Definitive Edition (PC) – October 15

Age of Empires III: Definitive Edition completes the celebration of one of the most beloved real-time strategy franchises in definitive form. Command mighty civilizations from across Europe and the Americas or jump to the battlefields of Asia in stunning 4K Ultra HD graphics and with a fully remastered soundtrack. Experience two new game modes: including all previously released expansions and 14 civilizations, plus two brand new civilizations – the Swedes and Inca. Return to adventure with this final chapter in the Age of Empires: Definitive Edition journey.

Heave Ho (PC) – October 15

Grab one another’s hands, climb across dangling bodies, and swing your pals to safety in a wobbly, dangly mass of limbs. Heave Ho tasks up to four players with a simple goal: don’t fall to your death! Players will use their own two hands and the outstretched grip of their friends to grapple across each level on their way to victory. Customize your character with stylish accessories in a vain attempt to remember which of your hands is the only thing between you and the plummet of doom.

Katana Zero (Android, Console & PC) – October 15

A stylish neo-noir, action-platformer featuring breakneck action and instant-death combat. Slash, dash, and manipulate time to unravel your past in a beautifully brutal acrobatic display. Each level is uniquely designed for countless methods of completion. Defeat foes creatively, using spontaneous approaches to eliminate your enemy as you see fit.

Tales of Vesperia: Definitive Edition (Console & PC) – October 15

The fate of two friends will collide in an epic journey that threatens the existence of the world in Tales of Vesperia: Definitive Edition! A power struggle begins with a civilization dependent on an ancient technology, the Blastia, and the Empire that controls it. Relive the most beloved “Tales of” title beautifully remastered in HD with new playable characters, new stories, and more special attacks!

The Swords of Ditto: Mormo’s Curse (PC) – October 15

A compact action RPG that creates a unique adventure for each new hero of legend in the relentless fight against the evil Mormo. Explore a delightful but dangerous overworld, brave menacing dungeons, and improve your hero in a charming village, during your quest to overcome the evil that plagues the island. Grab a co-op friend for an unforgettable adventure filled with delightful characters, extraordinary loot, and heroic battles!

ScourgeBringer (Console) – October 21

From the developers of NeuroVoider, ScourgeBringer is a fast-paced free-moving roguelite platformer, much like a crossbreed between Dead Cells and Celeste. Set in a post-apocalyptic world where a mysterious entity wreaked havoc on all humanity, ScourgeBringer puts you in the shoes of the deadliest warrior of her clan: Kyhra. Help her explore the unknown and slash her way through ancient machines guarding the seal of her past, and maybe the redemption of humanity.

Cricket 19 (Console) – October 22

The official game of the 2019 Ashes Championship is the complete cricket simulation. Featuring a suite of exciting all-new features that add even greater depth and rich new content to Big Ant Studios’ acclaimed cricket engine. Tackle historical scenarios for classic matches through the ages, develop the career of a junior right through to national captaincy. Participate in the fully-licensed Ashes Cricket mode, or lead your nation to the greatest world championship in the classic 50-over one-day mode.

Supraland (Console) – October 22

Save the red-stick figure village in this hit first-person, open-world, action-puzzle platformer. Roam and explore a grand interconnected world, unlock new versatile abilities, and combine them to overcome imaginative puzzles or uncover shrouded secrets. Defeat charging hordes in fast, frenetic first-person combat as you battle your way for an audience with the Blue King. Supraland is the ultimate “sandbox” adventure game and offers players of all ages a unique take on puzzles, exploration, and adventure!

Rainbow Six Siege (Console & Android) – October 22

With a thriving professional esports scene and a community of over 60 million registered players, Tom Clancy’s Rainbow Six Siege puts players in the middle of a fast-paced, ever-evolving multiplayer experience grounded in the selection of unique operators.

Using the right mix of tactics and destruction, Rainbow Six teams engage their enemies in sieges, where both sides have exclusive skills and gadgets at their disposal. Defenders prepare by transforming the environments around them into modern strongholds, while attackers use recon drones to gain intel for carefully planning their assault. Creativity and competition are at the heart of this game.

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Carto (Console & PC) – October 27

Separated from her Granny during a storm, young Carto must use her innate cartography powers to map and manipulate the world around her on her quest to be reunited. As she discovers new “pieces” of the game map, players can rearrange them to shape the levels themselves – unlocking new paths, puzzles, and story moments.

Day of the Tentacle Remastered (Console & PC) – October 29

Released by LucasArts in 1993 as a sequel to Ron Gilbert’s groundbreaking Maniac Mansion, Day of the Tentacle is a mind-bending, time travel, cartoon puzzle adventure game in which three unlikely friends work together to prevent an evil mutated purple tentacle from taking over the world! Double Fine’s remastered version is a perfectly preserved piece of puzzle and adventure, and it’s now available with Game Pass! Travel through time and enjoy revamped artwork (or swap back and forth between classic and remastered modes) as you solve puzzles across multiple eras. Day of the Tentacle is an all-time comedy classic and this special edition has been lovingly restored and remade with the care and attention that can only come from involving the game’s original creators.

Five Nights at Freddy’s (Android, Console & PC) – October 29

The Freddy Fazbear animatronics beloved by thousands of children have always been quirky, especially after hours…  Many previous night guards have reported they act almost “possessed”, but that can’t be, they are just machines, right? There is nothing for you to worry about. Play through the original four titles and discover for yourself. Just show up for your night shift and do the job well and everything will be alright. Or will it…

Full Throttle Remastered (Console & PC) – October 29

Originally released by LucasArts in 1995, Full Throttle is a classic graphic adventure game from industry legend Tim Schafer, telling the story of Ben Throttle, a butt-kicking biker caught up in a tale of motorcycles and mayhem. Remastered by the mischievous folks at Double Fine Productions, Full Throttle Remastered features all new hand-drawn artwork and fresh audio. There’s never been a better way to experience this classic piece of adventure game history!

Grim Fandango Remastered (Console & PC) – October 29

One of the most acclaimed adventure games of all time arrives on Xbox Game Pass! Manny Calavera is a travel agent at the Department of Death, selling luxury packages to recently departed souls on their four-year journey to eternal rest. But there’s trouble in paradise: a conspiracy that threatens Manny’s very salvation and the afterlife itself. Originally released by LucasArts in 1998, Grim Fandango’s remastered edition comes care of Double Fine Productions and brings revamped visuals and sounds (including fully orchestrated music) to a beloved classic.

PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds (Android) – October 29

Land, loot and outwit your opponents to become the last player left standing in a thrilling game experience full of unexpected, adrenaline-pumping moments. PUBG’s new Season 9 is dropping on October 29 with a new map called Paramo. Cradled hidden among the clouds in the highlands of South America lies Paramo, an ancient land with ancient secrets. Paramo is a 3×3 map with a dynamic world new to PUBG. This dynamic world system alters locations between matches, making every trip to Paramo a unique experience. Take on the Battlegrounds like never before with cloud gaming (Beta) with Xbox Game Pass Ultimate.

ScourgeBringer (Android) – October 29

From the developers of NeuroVoider, ScourgeBringer is a fast-paced free-moving roguelite platformer, much like a crossbreed between Dead Cells and Celeste. Set in a post-apocalyptic world where a mysterious entity wreaked havoc on all humanity, ScourgeBringer puts you in the shoes of the deadliest warrior of her clan: Kyhra. Help her explore the unknown and slash her way through ancient machines guarding the seal of her past, and maybe the redemption of humanity.

Unruly Heroes (Android, Console & PC) – October 29

Grab your controller and set out on an epic adventure of intrigue and discovery inspired by the timeless 16th century Chinese novel “Journey to the West.” With its simple to pick up, hard to master combat system across 4 playable characters, evolving gameplay and surprises galore, Unruly Heroes is not your run-of-the-mill action-platformer. Take on the roles of Wukong the Monkey King, Sanzang the Sleepy Monk, Kihong the Greedy Pig and Sandmonk the Sensitive Brute as they travel westward in search of the scattered remnants of the Sacred Scroll. Along the way, whether it be solo or in local co-op, master the combined strength of the heroes and kung-fu fight a diverse lineup of creatures and demons within a colorful hand-drawn fantasy world.

The post Xbox Game Pass: New Games for November 2020 Revealed appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[pocket-anon]

The Long Way Home (4/10)

On to Chapter 4! I'm so pleased that so many of you seem to be enjoying this story, and I deeply appreciate the time you've taken to reblog it, leave comments, and tell your friends about it! This really isn't half the fun without you. Hugs.

As always, thanks to my beta, @captainstudmuffin, and to @lifeinahole27, @clockadile, and @ladyciaramiggles for their additional feedback.  Additional thanks to my wonderful CSBB artists, @waiting-for-autumn and @giraffes-ride-swordfishes for providing some gorgeous artwork to accompany this fic!  Links to their illustrations of certain scenes (*) will be in the text - go show them some love!

Find it on AO3.  Nautical term glossary here.

Missed a chapter?  Get caught up here.

Summary:  After an unnaturally long life fraught with personal tragedy, Killian Jones has become known throughout the realms as the infamous Captain Hook, an opportunistic ne’er-do-well and one of the most formidable pirates to ride the waves.  When he crosses paths with a mysterious young woman with no memory of who she is or how she arrived there, he recognizes the chance to claim a monetary reward that will constitute his biggest score yet.  But a journey across the world to get her home leads to a series of adventures that reveal that her value lies in far more than gold and jewels.  A Captain Swan Anastasia AU - sort of.  (Captain Swan Enchanted Forest AU.  Romance, Adventure, & Eventual Smut.  Rated E.)

Warning: Brief but graphic depictions of violence, peripheral character death, and smut.

Steel whispers as Emma pulls a cutlass from a rack of swords in the Jolly’s armory and draws it from the scabbard to examine it with a narrowed eye aimed down the edge of the blade.

Hook watches her with amusement, leaned against one wall with his arms and legs crossed.  She’s wearing her hair up for the first time today, woven with a few thick braids and pulled back into a ponytail that’s already been touched by humidity and the morning breeze, and there’s something very wild and pretty about it.  “I assure you they’re all good swords, Swan,” he promises.  “I select them myself.”  

“Who says I’m not more discerning than you?” she quips, the corner of her lips pulling upward until one of her dimples appears.  She meets his incredulous grin with a chuckle.  “Kidding.”

He laughs richly.  Glorious creature.  

She moves on to a different, slightly more slender sword and looks it over before rotating it with a few turns of her wrist, the blade arcing gracefully through the air.  Emma hums with satisfaction, admiring the clean lines of the wire-wrapped grip.  “I like this one.”  

Hook nods.  “Very well.”

The blade hisses back into its sheath, and she flashes him an appreciative smile as he hands over a spare sword belt.  Standing back, he watches her thread the belt through the scabbard’s leather suspension and loop it around her waist.  Emma experiments with the best angle at which to let the sword hang for a minute before electing to just cinch the buckle snug to her middle.  The belt is overlong, but it only takes her a moment to formulate a solution, tying the remaining length off so that it hangs neatly downward and then pulling her hands back so she can survey her work.  “Does that look right?”

He hums the affirmative as she practices yanking the cutlass from the scabbard, the easy rhythm with which she slides the blade out and back home again making it seem as if she were old hand at this.  “It suits you, lass.”  He scratches behind his ear.  “As does your hair,” he adds shyly.

Emma blushes. “Thanks.”  She fingers a golden lock over the back of her ear.  “It, uh, it beats pushing it out of my eyes every other minute.”

He rumbles his agreement. “Indeed.”

Her eyes glint, and she grins, turning her attention back to her new sword.  A thoughtful look crosses her face, and she chews on her lip.

Hook eyes her knowingly. “What is it, Swan?”

Her gaze turns hopeful. “Do you have a spare a knife or a dagger?  Something small for my boot?”

His face brightens, and he cackles with approval.  “Now you’re thinking like a pirate.”  He pulls open a locker and retrieves a bound leather bundle, which he unties and lays open across the nearest bench to reveal a dozen smaller blades in various styles.  He gestures.  “Lady’s choice.”

Emma comes to his side and studies the collection.  She selects the slightest of them, a simple blade with an unadorned grip and no guard, and pulls it from the sheath, testing the weight and giving it a simple flip. “Thanks,” she says, slipping the blade back into the sheath and bending down to tuck it into her boot.

“You’re very welcome.” Hook grins with admiration.  He proceeds to bind up the remaining daggers and put them away.  “And now that you’re armed, we must be sure that you can wield that cutlass properly,” he says, pointing to her scabbard.  “It’s no longsword.  Come.”

He leads her above, throwing his crewmen cool looks of warning to behave as they make their way starboard, the shadow from the main-mast providing them some shelter from the late morning sun.  He takes the time to review the basics, making adjustments to her grip and stance and running her through a few principal cuts to let her familiarize herself with the weight of her new blade and its greater maneuverability compared to what she seems used to.

Emma proves herself to be an apt pupil despite having to take her lessons under the observation of seasoned pirates.  Her bearing is indeed noble as she forces her eyes away from them and focuses on her weapon and his words, and her face is so set with concentration he’s left with little doubt that he can turn her into a good swordsman.  

By midday, he’s completed his introduction, and he squints in the overhead sun.  “Feel up to a quick spar before lunch, Swan?”

Indecision flashes briefly over her face as she glances at her cutlass and then at men scattered around them, most of whom are doing a poor job of pretending they aren’t watching, but, true to form, the decision not to back down takes hold and she straightens and tosses her head, planting her free hand on her hip defiantly..  “If you want.”

Hook smiles and positions himself across from her.  “Aye. Let’s see what you’ve learned, shall we?”  They stare at each other for a moment, swords at the ready, and though they both know she’s no match for him, her eyes shine with a determination to try to best him that sends a thrill through his chest nonetheless.  He licks his lips with anticipation.  “Begin.”

Work around the ship halts as the clash of steel grants the crew unspoken permission to give up their ruse and gather round.  There are the expected cheers for the Captain, but he also hears a few calls of encouragement for the Lady Swan, and he hums as he parries Emma’s eighth strike. “Seems you have some admirers, love.”

Her beautifully flushed cheeks turn even rosier.  “Yeah,” she pants, grunting as their blades slice against each other again and they both spring back.

“Can’t say I blame them,” he adds with a devilish grin.  The tip of his sword traces a few lazy circles in the air, his steps mirroring hers as they circle.  “You are a far sight prettier than I.”

This earns him a little chuckle, and she feints high and slashes low, forcing him to jump back a few inches.

A ripple of excited cheers and jeers erupt from the men, and Hook crows. “Excellent!”  

He begins a light offensive, jabbing mainly toward her sides to give her a chance to practice deflecting, and when she appears to have gotten the hang of that, he follows up with a quick spin ending in a more aggressive slash.  She reverts to a two-handed grip to block it and proceeds to keep both hands on the hilt as she tries to return the assault.  

Hook tuts.  “Drop your other hand, Swan.  It’s not a longsword.”

She colors a little and complies.  A minute later, however, she falls back to her old ways.

“The hand, Swan,” he says patiently.

Emma corrects herself again, looking chagrined as she whips her blade around for another strike.  She grunts when he blocks her blow, the steel clanging hard.  “Sorry.”

They exchange a few more attacks before he finally deigns to end it, pressing her sword off to the side and twisting his blade around to force her to lose her grip.  Emma yelps indignantly as her cutlass clatters to the deck, but the men cheer, and she shakes her head and gives him a conciliatory grin.  “One of these days, you’re going to show me how to do that.”

Hook chuckles, sheathing his sword and reaching down retrieve hers.  “I suppose I could be persuaded.”  He offers the hilt up to her in gentlemanly fashion, a smirk playing on his lips.  “Very good, love.  Excellent progress today.  But keep your other hand in check,” he teases, arching a brow and gesturing toward her left arm, “or I may have to tie it behind your back.”

“Hmm.”  Emma narrows her eyes at him knowingly.  “No doubt something you would enjoy,” she comments, her face still glowing as she accepts her weapon and puts it away.

He laughs and gives her a wink as his men disperse.  “No doubt.” He motions for her to lead the way toward his quarters.  “Lunch?”

 *             *             *

 As apprehensive as Swan was about it, having the rest of the crew witness her sword fighting lesson with their Captain seems to go a long way toward earning their respect, and she notices that the men become more open to letting her observe them at their duties, even engaging her and indulging her questions as she learns more about the ship with each passing day.

She’s standing at the base of the main-mast and peering skyward one morning when Thomas swings down from the rigging to land beside her.  

“Help you, milady?”

Swan bites her lip, studying the complicated network of ropes that extend in various directions overhead.  “What’s it like up there?”

He laughs.  “Depends on how you feel about heights, I s’pose. Made my heart race the first hundred times I went up there and still does when the weather’s foul.”  He rubs the back of his neck.  “But the view from the top on a clear day?  Aye, it’s hard to beat.”

Her eyes trail along the thick lines of the shroud which arches above them.  “Can I go up?”

“Oh.”  Thomas blinks, surprised.  “Well, beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but I don’t know if that’s wise. Cap’n says our top priority is to keep you safe,” he replies apologetically.

She rolls her eyes, remembering the royal reward money, and cranes her head up again wistfully. “Well, what if I just go up there?” she asks, pointing to the main yard.  “I don’t have to climb to the very top.  I just want to see what it’s like.”  She glances sideways at him with a hopeful expression.  “Please?”

The poor lad looks conflicted.  “I…”  His eyes dart helplessly to Roberts, who approaches from the bow.  “Sir? The Lady would like to climb the mast.”

The older pirate’s step slows, lines of disapproval and confusion creasing his face.  “What on earth for?” he demands.  “…Ma’am.”

“Just getting to know the ship, Mr. Roberts,” Swan explains.  “The Captain’s encouraged me to learn a little about sailing while I’m here, and this can’t be any riskier than sparring with him,” she reasons, glancing back up at the yard.

Roberts makes a dubious sound low in his throat.  “All due respect, milady, but the Captain’s an expert swordsman who knows how to spar without hurting you.”

“And you’re an expert sailor,” she counters sweetly.  “I’m sure you can find a safe way for me to climb the rigging.  Every member of this crew had a first time, didn’t they?”

He huffs, running a hand down his face.  “The rigging’s no place for a Lady.”

She chuckles dryly. “Yes, well, I’m already on a pirate ship, sir.  I'm pretty sure we’re past the point of arguing where I do and don’t belong.”  She fixes him with one last long look of entreaty, and her chest swells with triumph as she watches the last of the man’s resolve finally bleed away.  

His shoulders slump with a heavy sigh.  “Fine,” he grits.  “But you’ll wear a tether or else the Captain’ll have my head.”

Swan beams.  “Thank you, Mr. Roberts.”

Roberts grumbles. “Get up there and get a line around the yard for ‘er,” he growls at Thomas.  “Be quick about it.”

Thomas gulps and scrambles away.

 *             *             *

 Hook emerges on deck for his morning inspection, squinting into the easterly sun and breathing the temperate air.

“’Morning, sir.”  Smee greets him with a nervous half-bow of his head.

His first mate’s tone is an immediate red flag, and Hook aims a questioning glance over his shoulder.  “What’s the problem, Smee?”

“Um, no problem, Captain.”

He raises an eyebrow before looking around for signs of Emma.  “Where’s the Lady this morning?” he asks.  “Still below?”

“Uh...  n-no.”

Hook turns his head curiously to see Smee wearing an anxious expression and pointing.  His eyes travel upward, growing round when he glimpses the telltale green skirts and blonde ponytail whipping on the wind high above them. “Bloody hell,” he breathes.  His forehead furrows, and he bellows indignantly. “Swan?!”

Perched atop the main yard and hugging the mast with one arm while she looks aft, Emma’s face comes into view as she leans forward a bit and flashes him a breathless smile.  “Hi!” she calls back.

He backs up a few paces in order to see her better, mouth agape.  “What the devil are you doing up there?”

She laughs, her face shining.  “Flying.”

“Fly—”  He clamps his mouth shut and charges forward, veritably leaping down the ladder to the middle deck.  His frustrated glare lands on Roberts and a contrite-looking Thomas, who stand watching her at the foot of the port shroud.  “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Apologies, Captain.” Roberts holds his palms up to mollify him.  “She said you wanted ‘er to learn something of sailing and fairly begged to be allowed up, so we tied a tether to ‘er and I let Thomas show ‘er a bit about managing the sails.  We’re just letting ‘er enjoy the view a while longer ‘fore she comes back down.”  

Hook blinks at him and Thomas dumbly, the quartermaster’s words taking the sting out of his displeasure, and the anger fades from his expression as he glances upward again.

“For what it’s worth, she seems right at home up in the rigging,” Roberts notes with a rare gleam in his eye.  “Never would’ve guessed it, but the girl can climb.”

“I’ll fetch her down, Cap’n,” Thomas offers hastily.

Hook huffs and waves the younger crewman off.  “No, lad. I’ll do it.  Back to your duties.”  He reaches for the shroud and swings himself up easily as Thomas looks relieved and scuttles away.

“Will you be needing anything then?” Roberts asks, risking the barest of knowing grins.

Hook shakes his head. “Never thought you’d be the first to fall for her charms, Old Man,” he chides, narrowing his eyes.

Roberts snorts. “Fairly sure I wasn’t,” he shoots back, his expression turning droll.  He clears his throat with a shrug.  “She’ll do well enough.  She’s got guts, I’ll give ‘er that.”

Hook concedes with a hum, trying to ignore the little surge of pride in his chest as he begins his ascent.

Emma is looking down at him with amusement when he draws near.  “Coming to check on me?” she teases.

“Coming to make sure you don’t break your pretty neck,” he retorts, affecting a scowl.  He pulls himself up onto the yard beside her, taking half a second to ensure a steady footing and a good grip on one of the lines.

She smiles, seeing through his feigned gruffness.  “I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.  In their defense, your men did insist on taking good care of me.”  She pulls one hand away from the mast to pluck at the improvised rope harness that girds her torso.

He huffs.  “As well they should.”  He relishes the way the morning sun plays upon her face, even as he forces his features to remain stern.  “You are not to come up here without supervision.  Understand?”

She nods agreeably. “It was trickier getting up here in a petticoat than I thought it would be,” she admits, wrinkling her nose.  “And not just because I have to worry about being exposed by every stiff breeze.”  Her cheeks turn crimson, and she smoothes the fabric down over her backside self-consciously.

Hook forgets his pretense and breaks out in a deep laugh, quite certain his men below would be more than happy to see a gale blow her skirt aloft.  “Aye.  Lovely as you might be in that dress, it may not be the most practical choice for climbing about.”  He juts his lower lip out thoughtfully.  “We’ll make port in about a week to shore up supplies.  Perhaps you could find something else to wear that would be better suited,” he muses.

Emma chuckles.  “No, it’s alright.  I’ll make do.  I don’t have any money anyway.”

“Consider it a gift then.”

She blinks over at him with big eyes before her expression softens and she shakes her head.  “You don’t have to do that.”

“Aye,” he concurs cheerfully, “but there’s no bringing out the sailor in you without the proper clothes, Swan.”

She looks conflicted for a moment, but at last she gives a grateful nod.  “It would be nice not to have to wear a corset,” she supposes, grimacing and arching her back slightly.

The motion causes Hook’s pulse to quicken as he eyes her gorgeous curves in profile.  He swallows and plasters on a cheeky grin.  “Then again, perhaps I should rescind the offer.”

She rolls her eyes and straightens, her cheeks flushing again, but he doesn’t miss the tiny, smug smile that hints at the corner of her mouth.  

He chuckles.  “Very well, darling.  As you like.”

“Hmph.”  Emma gives him a reproving side-eye before turning her gaze back out over the southern horizon.  They stand there enjoying the view for a few long minutes, surrounded by the sound of the wind buffeting the sails and the soft groans of the ship.  From somewhere below, the distant voices of some crewmen singing a shanty also rises to meet their ears.

“So what do you think of it?” he asks, watching a loose tendril of her hair curl backward over her brow.

She inhales the salty air contentedly.  “It’s amazing,” she murmurs.  “I’m starting to understand the appeal of a life at sea.”

Hook smiles, eyeing the endless blue expanse.  “Aye. The ocean’s an unpredictable mistress sometimes, but there’s nothing like standing on the deck of your own ship and knowing that she can take you almost anywhere.  Where else can you see so much of the world without ever leaving home?”  He taps his hook against the mast.

“How long have you lived on the water?”

“Nearly all my life,” he replies.  “Since I was a lad.  I was ten when my brother and I boarded our first ship.”

“Ten?”  Her mouth falls open.  “And you never returned to live on land?”

He looks away. “No.”  He hesitates when she waits for him to continue.  “We… we were traveling with our father.  He disappeared one night,” he explains quietly, steeling himself against his emotions and choosing the words carefully.  “Left us in the service of the ship’s captain.”

Emma squints, looking horrified.  “He left you,” she repeats.

A cheerless smile ghosts over his lips.  “Aye. Turns out he was a thief fleeing capture.  He went off the ship in a dinghy shortly after putting me to bed, I’m told.  We never saw him again.”

He doesn’t have to see her face to feel the quiet sadness that settles over her.  “And your mother?” she murmurs, clearly braced for another unpleasant revelation.

Hook dares to meet her gaze again, his expression becoming more drawn.  “Died the year before.  She’d been sick a long time.  One day she fainted.  Liam and I waited and waited for her to wake up.  She never did.”  He glances briefly at Emma’s now heartbroken face before redirecting his eyes to the tail end of their wake, staring numbly as it’s swallowed by the passing waves.  

“You’ve lost so many people,” she observes softly.

“It was a hundred and fifty years ago, Swan.”

“Does that make it easier?”

He sucks in a breath, deciding whether to acknowledge what she seems to know already, and bows his head. “No.”  He chuffs.  “Wounds that are made when we’re young tend to linger.”  Hook lifts his chin again and glowers out toward the waves.

Emma angles her head. “How have you lived so long, exactly?”

He hums, grateful for the change of topic, and his shoulders relax a hair.  “I spent a very long time in Neverland,” he says simply.  “The magic of the island makes it impossible to age there.”

Her brow wrinkles. “You went back to Neverland?  Even after what happened with your brother?”

He nods.

“Why?”  

He feels her eyes on him as he contemplates the most benign way he can describe the wrath and overwhelming desire for vengeance that fueled his decision to return to that accursed place.  “I needed information,” he answers, trying to sound nonchalant.

She arcs an eyebrow. “You spent over a hundred years looking for information?”

Hook shifts restlessly. “I spent over a hundred years in the reluctant employ of Peter Pan, who rules the island.  He was, shall we say, disinclined to let us leave.”

Emma frowns prettily as she considers this, a dozen questions writing themselves on her face.  “What kind of information were you looking for?”

He’s quiet for a beat. “The way to kill the demon who took my hand.”  His eyes dart away, and he swallows tightly, unsure why, for the first time, he feels less than comfortable telling someone about his quest to destroy the Dark One. For decades it’s been integral to his identity, as much a part of him as his hook, but now… now something about revealing himself to her as a man hell-bent on revenge makes him feel less than proud of who he is.

Silence falls between them, and he wonders whether he’s lowered her estimation of him.  Not that it should matter, he reminds himself hastily, sneaking a glance at the unreadable expression on her face as she, too, stares wordlessly out over the ocean.

At last she clears her throat.  “So, did you get the information you needed?”  Her head rotates back toward him.

Hook nods soberly, a knot forming in his stomach at the bitter memory of learning about the Dark One’s dagger – the only weapon capable of killing its malevolent owner – from Milah’s son, Baelfire, during their ill-fated encounter in Neverland.

“Have you had the chance to act on it?” she asks softly.

His gaze remains fixed on the water.  “Not yet.”

Emma bobs her head slowly and licks her lips.  “And what will you do after it’s done?”

A wrinkle appears between his eyes.  “I don’t know,” he admits.

She opens her mouth but falters, as if debating whether to say something.  “Maybe…” she starts, “if you find yourself back in the north… you could come say hello to a friend.”

He blinks, his heart leaping in his chest as she glances back at him with a solemn smile.  Friend. “Aye,” he agrees, flushing with pleasure and enjoying the hint of color that rises in her cheeks as he grins back at her.  “I’d like that.”

 *             *             *

 “Come on, Swan.  Let’s get a look.” Hook’s voice is slightly dampened by the curtain covering the doorway of the clothier’s dressing room.

A week has passed since Emma’s first climb up to the yard, and the, true to his word, Hook has put finding a more suitable set of clothes for her on the agenda for their two-night stop in this, the largest port in the Southern Isles.  And thus she finds herself in the back of this shop, half-naked, with him but a stone’s throw away.

Swan huffs as she appreciates the lightweight cotton shirt in her hands, the fabric covered in matching white embroidery that gives it a lacy, feminine quality.  “As many years as you’ve been alive,” she admonishes, slipping it on and beginning to do up the buttons leading up to the V-shaped neckline, “you’d think you’d have learned how to wait by now.”

Her ears catch his chuckle. “You need a hand, love?”

She smirks to herself. “Is that a joke?”

“No, I’m quite serious,” he calls back airily.  “I’m rather good with fastenings.”

It’s her turn to laugh. “I’m sure you are.”  Swan finishes buttoning the shirt and sweeps her ponytail free of the collar before examining her reflection in the clothier’s mirror. She smoothes the hem of the shirt down over her hips, turning this way and that to survey her appearance.  Her eyes fall to the dark blue leather trousers the clothier had chosen for her.  She may have had to suffer the mild indignity of being eyeballed and prodded and measured by the excitable wisp of a man while Hook looked on with a beguiled grin, but the result was definitely worth it, she thinks with a quirk of her lips. The trousers fit like a second skin, and while they’ll take a little getting used to, she has to admit that she loves the look of them as much as she loves the idea of no longer having her movement hindered by the voluminous fabric of a skirt.

Satisfied with her appearance, she reaches for the most indulgent piece of the ensemble – the thick cobalt jerkin with a high collar that the clothier had enthusiastically offered to go with the trousers.  She’d expressed reservations about the cost, but Hook had simply rolled his eyes and stepped forward, transferring the jerkin from the other man’s hands to hers and nudging her toward the dressing room.

“Believe me, you’ll be glad for something like this when we travel farther north,” he’d said.  “Go.”

Now that she wraps herself in the snug, buttery soft leather and links up the tiny, leaf-shaped clasps that run down one side, she can’t help but let her smile grow.  It’s perfect.

Swan tries to mute her pleased expression when she pulls aside the curtain and steps back out into the shop, her old clothes and shoes sandwiched between her hands and the soles of her new knee-high boots thumping quietly across the stone floor.  

Hook turns away from inspecting a dark red waistcoat and his jaw slackens at the sight of her, an appreciative sound sneaking past his parted lips.  “Now that’s much better,” he rumbles, his wide eyes sweeping up and down.

“You like it?” she asks coyly, giving the clothier a grateful smile when he beckons for her to hand him her old things in exchange for a pair of elbow-length leather gloves.

Hook’s face brightens with a slightly awed smile.  “You look stunning, Swan.”

Warmth creeps across her cheeks, and she allows herself to preen a little, experimentally wiggling her fingers as she finishes tugging the first glove on.  “And here I thought you’d miss the corset.”

“Well, that does have its own charms,” he chuckles, scratching behind his ear, “but I’d say this is a better fit for a woman who wields a sword and climbs the rigging.” He ducks his head a little. “Besides, you’d be lovely in anything.” His words leave her heart fluttering, and his grin widens.  He pulls out a purse heavy with coin and turns to the clothier.  “She’ll have all of it.”

They leave the shop behind a short while later, the paper-wrapped parcel containing Swan’s old clothes swinging on its twine from the Captain’s hook.  The sun shines, and the call of voices and the squawking of caged chickens greet them as they wander up the small side street and emerge back onto the port’s main thoroughfare.

“So now what?” she asks.

He hums.  “Normally I’d begin negotiating for new supplies,” he replies.  “But if you’d prefer I show you the town, I can leave the task to Roberts.  It’s usually a quartermaster’s job, anyway.”

“So why do you do it?” Swan looks up at him, puzzled.

Hook’s eyes twinkle. “Because I find merchants to be much more honest when they’re faced with this,” he says, lifting his hook, parcel and all.  He smiles mischievously, and she laughs.  “Most just want to make a decent profit, but there are always a few swindlers who need a little… inspiration.”

Swan nods, remembering the way her skin had crawled when a vintner had once tried to sell Maggie a case of wine for twice what it was worth.  A thought occurs, and she tilts her head.  “Could I come along?”

He arches a brow and gives her an amused sideways glance.  “Desperate to stay close to me, love?”

Her eyes roll skyward. “Or I could go explore the town on my own.”

“No, no.”  He grins and pulls a piece of paper from his pocket, handing it over so she can see the purchase list written on it in his neat, flowing hand.  “You’re quite welcome.  Just remember that not even I can make talk of salt pork and pickled vegetables very interesting.”

She chuckles at his hubris while she peruses the sheet.  “I’ll take my chances.”

The butcher that comes recommended to them has a very large shop and an excellent selection, but it becomes clear to Emma as she pretends to admire some hanging ham shanks and listens to him haggle with Hook over ten crates of cured meats that the burly, fast-talking man doesn’t have any qualms about charging whatever he wants, even after the Captain drops the pleasantries and pointedly sets his hook on the counter between them with a dull thunk.

Hook makes a dissatisfied noise in his chest as he eyes the new figure the butcher scribbles on a scrap of paper in lead pencil.  “Thirty-two silver.  That’s your best price?” he asks, his voice heavy with skepticism.

The man shrugs. “Afraid so, Captain.”

It’s hardly the truth. The telltale crawl of her skin makes Swan lick her lips.  She rapidly considers her options for convincing the man to be more cooperative, briefly wishing she were still wearing something that left a little more cleavage on display.  “Please?” she purrs, stepping forward to stand at Hook’s elbow and perching her fingertips on the counter.  “You can afford to do a little better.”  She looks the butcher straight in the eye.  “I know you can.”

He blinks.  “I… I really would love to, miss.  But that has me barely breaking even as it is.”

Lie.  She folds her lips in a tight smile.  “That’s a shame.  We can only spare twenty-six.  Guess we’ll have to look elsewhere.”  She slips her hands around the crook of Hook’s arm and gently pulls him toward the door.  “Sorry to waste your time.”

“You’re not going to find a better price than that!” he protests.

Lie.  Swan arcs an eyebrow over her shoulder at him.  “I don’t know.  I think we might.”

“Silly girl.  Captain, please.”  The butcher waves a doughy hand at Swan with frustration.  “You and I understand business.  Talk some sense into her.”

Much to her delight, Hook embraces her charade, canting his head to one side and allowing his eyes to flash murderously.  “I’m sorry, did you just insult my Lady’s intelligence?” he snaps, whirling so fast she loses her grip on him.  His hand finds the hilt of his cutlass.  “You must have misspoken.  Surely a smart man like you knows how unwise that would be.”  He makes a show of stubbornly refusing to move even as Emma lays a hand on his shoulder and urges him to stand down.

The butcher glances at the sword and the blood drains from his face.  He swallows hard.  “Of… of course, Captain.  My mistake, ma’am.”

Swan accepts his apologetic bow with a gracious nod, biting her tongue and doing her best to keep a straight face.

“Come, love,” Hook growls, giving the man another prize-winning glare before wrapping his hook arm around her back and reaching for the door knob.  “If he won’t do twenty-six, he won’t do twenty-six.”

“I could do twenty-nine!”

They pause, shooting him identical dry expressions before daring to look at one another, and she can’t be sure whether the thrill she’s feeling right now comes from having the man right where they want him or from the way Hook’s eyes laugh and his arm tightens around her as they silently agree to continue out the door.  

“Fine, then!  Twenty-six, twenty-six…” the butcher grouses.  He slaps a new slip of parchment on the counter. “Bleeding highway robbery,” he mutters, dashing off a purchase agreement.

Hook gives Swan the barest of winks and wanders back over to the counter, a little extra swagger in his step.  “Take it from someone who knows, mate,” he says, snatching up the slip of paper between outstretched fingers.  “If this were actual highway robbery, you’d be a lot worse for wear.”

  *             *             *

 “How did you know he’d do it?”  Hook admires the purchase agreement one more time before tucking it into the breast pocket of his coat.

Emma allows herself a self-satisfied smile as they walk down the road together.  “I just have a good feel for these things, I guess.”

“Perhaps I should make you the quartermaster.”  He throws her a grin before checking their surroundings and nodding in the direction of the grocer.

Emma follows gamely. “And where would that leave Mr. Roberts?”

Hook snorts.  “Knowing him, he’s got a secret fortune somewhere. He could take an early retirement or hire on a crew and find his own ship to captain,” he muses.  “The Dread Pirate Roberts.  Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”  He savors Emma’s dimpled cheek and dancing eyes and invites her to go first as they wander beneath the shade of the grocer’s enormous tent.  “Now, love, care to work your magic again?”

By day’s end, he and Emma manage to secure agreements for enough victuals and supplies to sustain the Jolly the rest of the voyage to Misthaven if need be.  Hook mentally tallies the sums while they sit in a local tavern awaiting the arrival of their evening meal.  He shakes his head in amazement.  “Don’t look now, Swan, but I think we make quite the team,” he informs her jovially. “This is the least it’s cost us to outfit the ship in years.”

“What is?”

They look up to see Roberts, a fresh flagon in his hand, halted on his way to rejoin some of the men at another table a few feet away.

Hook gathers the little sheaf of purchase agreements and hands them over, looking smug.

The quartermaster sets his drink down and shuffles through the papers, his bushy eyebrows leaping upward. “I’ll be,” he drawls with a toothy grin. “Those’re some pretty numbers.”

“Turns out the Lady knows how to drive a hard bargain,” Hook explains, gesturing toward Emma with his own ale and beaming.  “You should see her do it.”  He catches her eye and smiles.  “It’s a thing of beauty.”

Emma blushes hard, and Hook chuckles as Roberts hands the papers back.  

“It’s very impressive, ma’am.  You’ll have to tell us your secret.”

She lifts her cup up to her demure smile.  “It’s nothing, Mr. Roberts,” she replies, taking a sip.  “The Captain bought some things for me today, and I was just returning the favor.”

Roberts raises his flagon to her.  “Well, my hat’s off to you.  And…” The normally-gruff man eyes her new clothes and hesitates a moment, as if the words are awkward on his tongue. “You… you look very nice.”

Hook swivels his head toward his crewman in surprise, and Emma rewards Roberts with a brilliant smile before the quartermaster wanders off with his cheeks as ruddy as a schoolboy’s.

 *             *             *

 Foamy waves lap gently at the stretch of white sand that runs north of the docks, the entire landscape saturated in shades of indigo and dark blue beneath the light of an enormous full moon.  The dull roar of the ocean mixes in their ears with the intermittent rush of the evening wind that whispers along the coast, and the warm air smells faintly of brine.  Swan surveys the scene with a happy sigh as she and Hook elect to make a detour on their way back to the ship.  Behind them, the town is dotted with the glimmering light of a hundred lanterns, and the sounds of late-night merriments grow fainter as they hike several hundred yards off the path to the beach.  The ground softens beneath their feet, and Swan stops for a moment to bend over.  

Hook turns to watch as she pulls off her new boots and hitches the legs of her trousers halfway up her calves. “What are you doing?”  Even in the relative dark, the white of his amused grin is evident.

“Enjoying the sand,” she says simply, snatching up her boots and straightening.  “You said the shores up north are rocky.  Who knows when I’ll be someplace like this again?”  She shrugs and flashes him a little smile as she resumes their course, relishing the way her bare feet sink ankle-deep in the cool, dry grains.

They stroll up to the water’s edge, their parallel lines of footprints growing more distinct in the damp terrain, and she sighs happily as the perfectly tepid sea washes over her feet with every lazy surge.  Swan cranes her head upward to admire the stars which twinkle in the inky void beyond the moon’s halo.  “Does the night sky look the same in all the realms?” she wonders aloud.  She glances over to see Hook smile and nod.

“Aye.  The constellations move with location and season, but yes, it’s the same stars in every place I’ve encountered.  It’s what allows me to navigate no matter where I go.” His gaze sweeps the heavens, and he slows, turning about-face and pointing.  “See those four bright ones there?  The Southern Cross?”  He traces the perpendicular lines in the air with his finger.

Swan steps closer, squinting to try and see what he sees.  “There?”  Her voice is uncertain as she shifts her boots to her left hand and points with her right.

Hook steps around to her right side and hunches down a bit, all but lowering his chin onto her shoulder to try to approximate her line of sight.  He reaches for her outstretched hand, and her heart begins to beat erratically at the sensation of his breath on her cheek and the warmth of his palm around her wrist as he adjusts her angle.  “There.” He slowly moves her arm in a similar crisscross pattern, pausing briefly on each individual point of light.  “One, two, three, four,” he counts quietly in her ear.  “See it?”

Her lashes flutter, and she manages to nod despite the sudden fullness in her throat and the gooseflesh that seems to have erupted across her back and arms.

“Now follow the long axis,” he coaxes, drawing her hand toward the horizon at a slight angle, “about four-and-a-half lengths down.  That’s south.”  He seems to catch himself and pulls away, clearing his throat.  “Um, see?  It’s simple.” He scratches behind his ear.

Her breath feels stilted, as though none of the air around them can find its way to her lungs.  “Yeah,” she croaks, tucking a stray curl back away from her face and forcing a nervous little laugh.  “I’ll have to remember that.”

Hook diverts his gaze almost shyly and looks toward the ocean as he turns to resume their walk. Something a few paces ahead catches his eye, and he strides forward to investigate, reaching down to pluck an object from ground.  “Ah! Look at this,” he calls.

Swan trots to his side, watching curiously as he straightens, cradling a flat, round disc in his palm. “What is that?”

“A sand dollar.”  His thumb swipes across the surface a few times to clear the thin layer of wet sand that clings to it, allowing her to see the pretty, flower-like imprint in the center and the odd pattern of slits that surround it.  He motions for her to take it.  “Some people think they’re good luck.”

She chuffs and accepts, admiring the hard, milky white artifact in the moonlight as she gently brushes the last of the beach off it.  “Guess I can use all the luck I can get,” she says with a rueful smile.

He chuckles.  “Somehow I get the feeling you make your own luck, Swan.”

“Right.  Because waking up on the wrong side of the world with no memories was so lucky,” she shoots back wryly, tucking the sand dollar into her jerkin.

“Well, if you hadn’t, you might never have met me,” he points out, shrugging amiably. “I’d call that a stroke of luck, wouldn’t you?”  He offers her his arm and an impish grin.

She can’t help but laugh, and she acknowledges his point with a bob of her head, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow and trying to ignore the pleasant quiver of her stomach as they turn to keep wandering.  “I guess so.”

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