#who’s objectively not that good at her job but charmed the prince with her silly antics and earnestness

[lesbianfakir]

With rue’s possessiveness and mytho’s exhaustion at being expected to love everyone they would have a closed marriage HOWEVER they have a codified rule that it’s not cheating as long as it’s with Duck

[chudleycanonficfest]

The Soul Truth

Day 2, Story #1 is by @honouraryweasley12

Title: The Soul Truth

Author: honouraryweasley12

Pairing: Ron x Hermione

Prompt: Soulmates

Rating: K+

TW: none

The ornate doors slid open and Hermione stepped out of the lift, her shoes clacking on the stone floor as she walked forward, head held high but movements stiff. She quickly found that it was best to give off a strong, confident air as she met with various ministries in her new capacity. 

She hadn't been in this part of the Ministry often and it was quite unfamiliar to her. All the more reason to keep her guard up.

"Greetings, Minister Granger-Weasley. Congratulations on your victory."

A wizened old man in heavy, dark robes welcomed her, limping forward and holding out a shaky gnarled hand. She took it and met his eyes, which were still sharp—despite his advanced age. A playful twinkle shone out from them, reminding her immediately of Dumbledore.

"Thank you."

He gave her a smile. "Welcome to Archive floor of the Department of Mysteries."

She looked around the cavernous space, taking everything in. She could practically feel the hum of ancient magic reverberating around the walls.

"And you are?"

"I am the Archivist."

"Oh, I meant your name."

He chuckled. "We don't use our given names in this department, just our titles. There is great power in names, as you no doubt know, and we don't want that to interfere with the work we are doing here."

"What should I call you?"

He thought for a moment, before looking up at her. "For today, you can call me… Dave."

She immediately relaxed and shook her head, her face incredulous. "Why Dave?"

"Ah, you see, the power of names. By picking something so simple and informal, your posture and tone changed completely. Had I picked something more formal, you would have responded in kind."

She smiled, immediately taking a liking to the mysterious old man. "Lead the way, Dave. I was told I would be receiving the grand tour."

The two walked slowly through the vast archives, the various rooms and chambers full of different experiments, mystical objects, and parchments.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione stopped to ask, noticing that they hadn't seen a single person, Unspeakable or otherwise, as she was shown around.

"Some of our greatest breakthroughs happen in the early morning or late evening. We encourage our members to work when it best suits them." He squinted at a battered gold watch that seemed to weigh heavily on his wrist. "Yes, 3:00 PM is usually the quietest time of the day down here."

"I see. I do some of my best work at odd times as well."

He nodded sagely. "The quiet mind is often the clearest."

They continued touring through, until they came to a small door tucked behind several suits of armour. It was so old and dark that Hermione wouldn't have even noticed it, had Dave not mentioned it.

"Most Ministers of Magic I've worked with seem to be worried about other objects down here that might help them, but I have something interesting which I think you'll appreciate."

He fished out a small key from within the folds in his robes and turned it in the lock. The heavy door creaked open to reveal a closet-sized space with a single pedestal. On top of it sat a thin, aged book.

"It's my understanding that you are an avid reader, Minister."

"Yes, how did you know?"

"It's my job to know," he added gravely, watching her eyes narrow. He waved his hand dismissively, grinning again. "No, no, I'm only joking. I happened to share a lift with Auror Weasley one Monday morning, and while I didn't mean to eavesdrop, he was complaining quite loudly to Auror Potter that he missed you, because you had your nose stuck in a book all weekend. I mean no offense, of course."

She blushed and rolled her eyes affectionately. "That sounds like Ron alright."

"That's why I thought this might be of interest to you," he continued, gesturing to the pedestal.

She couldn't help but be intrigued as she stared down at the frail old book, her voice dipping down to a whisper of reverence. "What is it?"

"It's called The Book of Souls—though it's just a single parchment. Yet, it's the most dangerous object down here."

Hermione stared at it, her face a mask of awe. "How so?"

"Legend has it that the parchment was created by a powerful young witch, who was being courted by a prince. She wasn't sure if he was her soulmate, for she sensed a darkness in him, so she invoked some very ancient magic to help reveal the truth."

"It worked?"

"Indeed, it did. The parchment was charmed to reveal a small note, riddle, and sometimes even a name to the reader, one that would help them understand who their soulmate was. Unfortunately for that witch, her soulmate was most decidedly not the prince. She rejected his proposal, and as was the case back then, disappeared under mysterious circumstances soon after."

"That's terrible. Then what happened?"

"As the story goes, rumour spread about the witch's parchment, and as with most powerful objects, the lure of it drew out many seekers. Though the object was made with good intentions, it soon led to a trail of darkness and bloodshed. Broken families, obsessions, blackmail, jealousy, and even death. Knowing that kind of unshakeable truth proved to be a valuable commodity, or a lifetime of heartbreak for those unable to meet their soulmate."

Hermione nodded. It sounded very much like the Elder Wand, but more subtle and insidious. One thing was puzzling her though. "I've never heard of this before, and I've studied many books about souls, both ancient and dark."

"Once the Ministry recovered it, they deemed it was too dangerous for this information to be out there, so they've removed all known references to it. Those who had known of it died off, and it was forgotten from memory."

"When was this?"

"Centuries ago. However, as Minister, you are privileged to learn certain pieces of information that the general population is not privy to."

"Fascinating," Hermione replied. She watched as he slowly reached a hand toward the weathered book. "Wait! What are you doing?"

"Every so often I check to make sure it's still under the cover, and since we're already in here, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. Does… does that mean you've looked at it?"

"Oh no, never. I always look away, as should you."

He lifted the corner for a second, and try as she might, Hermione couldn't help but open her eyes to see a word of blazing red ink, before he shut the cover again. Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, unable to comprehend the word she saw so very briefly.

"No, it couldn't be."

"What was that Minister? Did you say something?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Everything seems to be in order here. Shall we continue?"

Hermione nodded mutely, the word still burned in her thoughts.

~*~

She cancelled the rest of her meetings and went straight home after finishing with Dave, or whatever his real name was, needing time to collect her thoughts. How could she tell Ron, the love of her life, what she had seen?

She sat at their dining table, absentmindedly stirring a soothing cup of tea when he walked in.

"Hermione, I'm home."

He came bounding into the kitchen, a piece of parchment in each hand and a wide smile on his face. "Look, the kids wrote. Hugo promises he's already started studying for O.W.L.s, and Rosie is nervous, but excited, to captain her first match against Ravenclaw next week."

"That's great," she replied, her voice a dull monotone.

"They even said their classmates think it's cool that you were elected as the youngest Minister of Magic in history."

"Hmm."

Ron looked at her and frowned. "What's wrong? Tough day?"

Hermione pulled out the chair next to her and patted it. "Come sit down."

Ron scrutinized her again. "The last time you did that, it was to tell me you were pregnant with Hugo. Are you pregnant?"

She sighed. "No, please just come here, I need to tell you something, and I don't think you're going to like it."

He sat down, unsure of what was coming. She quickly told him about the Archivist, the tour, and the Book of Souls, before swearing him to secrecy.

"You saw something when he lifted the cover, didn't you?"

She nodded sadly. "I saw a word."

"What did it say?"

"I-I don't want to tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not true. Whatever it says, it's not true."

"C'mon Hermione, please tell me."

"It said… Krum."

Ron let out a laugh. "Oh, is that all?"

"What do you mean? Viktor Krum is my soulmate, and that's all you have to say!?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"That you're upset, that you care that I was destined to be with Viktor."

"Destined? We have two beautiful kids, an amazing family, and great careers. I don't care what some ruddy old book says, the charms are probably wonky anyway." He pointed to his chest. "I know that I love you with all of my heart, and you feel the same."

She slid into his lap and threw her arms around his neck. "I do, you know I do… but…but…"

"What?"

She suddenly burst into tears, burying her head in his neck as she sobbed. "I-I always had this idea in my head that we were real soulmates, if such a thing existed. We met when we were so young, and I've only truly ever loved you. I know it's silly, but I hate that it's not true. I didn't even like Viktor that much."

Ron ran his fingers through her hair and rubbed her back comfortingly. "Maybe it was a mistake or something. You said yourself you only saw one word."

Her breathing started calming down. "I-I suppose that's true."

"We know what happens when a charm or prophecy is misinterpreted."

She sniffled. "It would be nice to know."

Ron gave her a squeeze. "Maybe we should sneak in there tomorrow and take a look."

"We can't just sneak in there! I'm the Minister of Magic! Besides, there was a key to get into the room. I don't know how we're going to get it from the Archivist."

"You're the Minister of Magic. I'm sure you could come up with some reason to be there."

She gave him a dirty look. "I'm not abusing my position like that."

"I don't mind abusing my position, as you put it. Maybe I can say I'm researching something for a case."

"No, Ron. What if you get in trouble?"

"Who am I going to get in trouble with? Harry? You?"

"That's not the point. We swore we'd never take advantage of our roles for our own gain."

He sighed. "Fine, you're right. Sneaking in it is, then. It'll be like the good old days! A secret mission, breaking into places we have no business being in. An ill-formed plan. It'll be fun."

She smacked him on the arm. "Those days were terrible."

"Aren't you curious though, to find out the truth?"

"Of course I want to know the truth! I don't want to go through the rest of my life thinking Viktor was my soulmate, when it's clearly you."

"As sweet as that is, we clearly only have one choice."

Hermione shook her head. "Fine."

"Good, things like this are much easier when you're agreeable to them," he smirked, nudging her playfully. "You said 3:00 PM was when it was empty, right? Meet me in my office tomorrow at 2:55 PM, and we'll head down there. I'll just tell Harry we're going to a broom closet or something."

"Ron!" Hermione screeched. "You'll do no such thing."

"It's perfectly plausible. It's not like we haven't done that before."

She blushed, unable to count the number of times they'd had fun at the Ministry. "Alright, fine. 2:55PM at your office."

"Good. Now, I'm starving. I'll whip up one of your favourites. I bet I'm a better cook than ol' Vicky. What do Bulgarians even eat?"

"Not funny, Ron."

~*~

The next afternoon, Hermione was found pacing in front of Ron and Harry's office, much to the fear of the recruits who were stationed outside the door. It wasn't often the Minister of Magic would show up unannounced, muttering under their breath.

The door swung open and Ron sauntered out, his lips upturned in a smug smile. Harry's face had gone a shade of green from what he'd just heard from his best mate.

"Hi, er, Hermione," Harry greeted her awkwardly. "You two… um… have fun."

Mortified, Hermione could only return a quick wave before grabbing Ron's arm, hauling him toward the lifts before she was forced into any further interactions with Harry.

"I honestly can't believe you told him we were going to go shag."

"I literally told you I was going to say that."

"I didn't think you actually meant it." She let out an exasperated snort and pinched the bridge of her nose as they entered the lift. "What's the plan?"

"Plan?"

"You are the Head Strategist of the Auror department. Surely you must have thought of something!"

Ron shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "We'll make it up as we go. Seems to work best for us."

"I don't like this one bit."

The ding of the bell signalled they had arrived.

Ron clasped her hand, their fingers entwining. "Let's do this."

The doors opened and they were greeted with utter silence. It was as if the entire floor was abandoned, which it likely was.

They crept forward, trying to make as little noise as possible before finally reaching the same spot she had been the previous day.

Hermione turned the handle of the door, and to her surprise, it was unlocked.

"Hey, look at that!" Ron exclaimed loudly.

"Ron," she hissed. "Keep on the lookout."

He nodded and stood in front of the armour blocking the door, ensuring that Hermione couldn't be seen, in case they were interrupted.

Hermione took a deep breath, her heart pounding. Whatever it said under the cover wouldn't change anything between herself and Ron, but she needed to know for sure.

Her fingers paused for a second, lightly gripping the frail corner, her body tense. She delicately opened the book, the bright red ink bursting into view, almost glowing in the small, dark chamber.

Her greedy eyes flew over the words that were revealed.

"I knew it," she whispered.

Ron suddenly poked his head in. "Everything alright?"

"Perfect. Everything's perfect and wonderful!" Her giddiness couldn't be contained as she closed the ancient text.

"I guess this means you aren't going to chuck me?"

"Never."

"What's it say?"

Her pink cheeks were starting to hurt from her wide grin. "Your soulmate will first love, then hate, a Mr. Viktor Krum."

"That confirms it. See, nothing to worry about."

"Oh Ron, I'm so relieved. I knew it couldn't be true. This whole thing is ridiculous, but I'm still glad to know it's always been you."

Ron nodded. "Me too."

"We should leave before we get caught."

"Not so fast, it's my turn now."

"What?" Hermione asked sharply. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Might as well take a look while I'm here."

Hermione stepped back, biting at her bottom lip—a sure sign of anxiety. "But… but… what if—"

Ron cupped her cheeks in his large hands and gently kissed her. "It doesn't matter what it says, I love you and only you. Trust me."

She nodded, before resuming his place as the lookout.

After a moment, she heard him chuckle and close the door behind him.

Hermione whispered urgently. "What did it say?"

"It said my soulmate will be a nightmare."

Hermione let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Thank goodness. I don't think I would've been able to handle it if it wasn't me."

"It's always been you. I thought you'd have learned by now."

"I know, I never should have doubted it."

"Can you imagine if we'd learned this information when we were younger? We might have been able to get together much sooner," Ron remarked.

"Or we'd have made an even bigger mess of things."

"True. It doesn't matter in the end though, does it? We figured it out and we've done pretty damn well for ourselves."

"We have, Ron. I love you."

"Love you, too. We'd better get out of here before someone sees us."

The two quickly retreated to the lift, having successfully completed their mission. A minute after the doors had shut on the snogging couple, an old man slowly made his way toward the chamber and pulled a small key out of his robes, locking the heavy door.

As it's appointed guardian, he had vowed to never look in the book, and he had kept that oath. That didn't mean he couldn't use it's power in other ways. Past Ministers, those inquisitive few who had the intelligence to understand the book's worth, often revealed something in that moment when he checked the parchment, for good or ill. Usually it mattered little to him, but not in this case.

He paused for a moment, before extracting a small glass sphere from the same pocket as the key. A sphere he'd kept with him for many years, since he was a young man working with prophecies in the Department of Mysteries. Knowing Minister Granger-Weasley was coming to take a tour was the perfect opportunity to solve a mystery he'd been researching for the better part of seven decades.

He held it up to the light, the familiar swirls of mist dancing in the globe. He had long since memorized the prophecy, which had been made by a seer almost a hundred years earlier. His colleagues at the time had dismissed it, because like many visions, it was almost impossible to determine what the seer was referring to.

He had kept this one, for it always gave him hope. He never thought he'd actually solve it. Yet here he was, still alive and able to record this last surviving prophecy in the annals of history.

He turned it over in his hands, the glass still unblemished.

"Magic," he whispered, "such a wonderful tool."

He stared at it again, reciting for the last time the fates encompassed within.

"Two soulmates, brown and orange, will form a triangle with black to defeat evil. Through many trials the two will forge a love so strong it will be unbreakable, and their strength will reshape the world."

He let out a final chuckle, his long-held desire now confirmed by the soulmates themselves. He lifted the glass to his lips, his breath fogging up the shiny surface.

"Prophecy fulfilled."

The sphere melted away into nothing, the outcome recorded somewhere else in the archives. He shuffled away back to his office, his eyes sparkling, and his heart lifted with hope.

[honorable-wanderings]

Word of Honor - Episode 2 Part 1 - Stalking, but in like. A  sexy way

(Sorry! For some reason the “readmore” isn’t working right!)

WE JOIN OUR “HEROES”....

exactly where we left them.

ZZS looks confused, offended, and slightly intrigued by the new person added into Smash Bros.

Look at him. Tryin to be all cool. Make a good first impression.

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I’m not really sure what kind of a power move it is wrapping up her whip and pulling her closer in a chastising way in front of the man you have already decided to try to seduce but it is a power move none the less.

And it seems to be working! :o

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There’s more pouting in this show than I originally anticipated.

“A-Xiang, stop attacking random people on the street. At least wait until your martial arts don’t suck ass first.”

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And so the dance begins.

Look at that smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

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Waste not your honored thanks on me, kind gentleman. I am but a lowly drunkard lying dirty and prone on the street. The error, therefore, must have been my own!

---------------------

I got my eyes on you!!!!

To quote a kind young lady that I met quite recently. “I don’t give a FUCK”

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Oh wait, you’re still here?

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Best boy alert is going crazy!!!

We may have just met ChenLing, but I would die for him. That also seems to be the general consensus with the other characters as well.

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“It is dangerous outside the town walls, so I cannot allow a child like you to... ...A sword? My apologies, sir. It was wrong of me to treat you like a child. “

What? That’s not what he said?

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“Are you injured or ill?”

*looks into the camera like it’s the office*

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ZZS out here looking like a tragic renaissance painting.

“Young master can we go now? He smells D:”

“Sure just a sec! Let me just leave him my house keys!!”

“What??? Nooooo”

“What was that phrase I learned today? I don’t give a fuck?”

(On a side note I am trying to learn French atm and deadass almost wrote “fraise” instead of “phrase” even though it means “strawberry” and doesn’t have anything to do with the conversation at hand.)

----------

I came out here to enjoy the sun and some peace and quiet and some good alcohol. The peace and quiet is gone. And so is the sun. Now this dickwad’s saying I might be bad because I dress like shit? I was the nicest dressed royal assassin ever and now that I’m a hobo I’ve never been more upstanding! I haven’t even killed a single person in like a year and a half (other than myself).

At least I still have you, alcohol.

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Meanwhile back with these two,

A-Xiang is still mad that she lost a random fight she picked with someone who looked like a pushover.

More pouting ensues

--------------

“Get good”

Master KeXing reveals he knows more than he revealed to know previously when he was pretending not to know what he has now revealed he knows.

A-Xiang wants to know if he’s making shit up again.

-----------

The plot is driven forward by the playful rhyming chants of children. Honestly that’s top tier horror movie quality plot beat right there. Add a sense of foreboding to your story even though we’re still in ‘lighthearted silly time”

Good job!

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Zhou Zishu wonders, surely not for the last time, why everyone in the martial arts world can’t just calm the fuck down.

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ZZS then decides that after being accosted by random people on the street while he was snoozing and minding his own damn business that that seems like a lot of fun and decides to accost some random person on the street who was snoozing and minding their own business.

---------

Why doesn’t anyone ever believe that I’m fucking loaded? I’ve got like 2 years left and I’m gonna blow my life’s savings before I go muthafucka. You want 3 mace of silver for a half-mile boat ride? Done motherfucker did I stutter?

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“Hello. I’m totally not stalking you. :D”

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“You wanna ride my boat? ;)” he asks, shouting it across the river so that he could be heard. “What?” Zhou Zishu replies, not able to understand him over the babbling of the water.

“I said! Do! You! Want! To! Ride! My! Boat? Winky Face!”

“Did you just say “winky face??”

“Yeah I was worried you couldn’t see it from there!”

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Somehow today has turned out much more interesting than I had anticipatd

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“We’ll meet again if fated!”

“Challenge accepted”

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Yes I am only keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t fuck with my plans. And that is the only reason. Yes. that’s why I’m going to follow him. Just this. Only that. No other reason.

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This place is pretty! I think this would be a great place to die!

Hun, you still have a couple years. You can always come back to die here later but like chilling in a field of flowering trees for 2 years will kinda lose its novelty if you don’t do other things too.

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GIVE ME YO’ FUCKIN’ MONEY!!

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You said I’ve already ridden and dashed so what’s the point in my paying you now? Toodles!

-----------

This place is pretty but I love how people never walk anywhere. Like the trees would look prettier if you were in them you know.

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HOly fuck! Being rude as shit is so fun! How have I never tried this before? 

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Uh.. question: How did this get here? It’s clearly dry docked but it’s no where near the water. Why is it here???

Ah well. It’s free real estate

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WHY IS THE RUM GONE?

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Do I have “attack me” written on my face or something? For the love of fuck! I’m not drunk enough for this!

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“Meh”

“Meh? I think not good sir.”

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Would you believe that this wasn’t even rehearsed?

-----------

For someone who does not want people to see his chest, this is certainly a lot of chest exposed???

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Not sure that’s how fans work, but hell maybe I’ve just been using ‘em wrong all this time

Holy fuck is it heat seeking???

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Surprise!!!

-----------

Pff. Okay. Like I will ALWAYS love it when some not sharp object flies into something and sticks like it’s made of razor sharp blades. And I know TECHNICALLY it’s possible - what with a tornado being able to slam a single piece of straw through cinder block. But it will always make me smile.

(And while that is a smile at how ridiculous it is, it is with 100% legit affection and charm. I legit love it)

Just. “Thunk”

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Who is attacking me? Were they sent by the prince? Do they know who I am? Do I need to get serious?

Oh... It’s just that random guy again.

Well that’s okay then.

--------

I apologize for once again attacking you randomly and completely unprovoked in the middle of nowhere. My bad.

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“My footwork has godlike elegance huh? You shoulda seen me when I wasn’t dying.”

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I came here to check out dat ass again and I was not disappointed. ;)

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Don’t stand so- Don’t stand so- Don’t stand so close to me ♪

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“Why don’t we drink on my boat?“ “I don’t want to sleep with you!“ “Yet ;)”

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Why the fuck are you following me? Just say what you want from me already!

Bitch you invited me

-------

“He’s so good at kissing ass”

Oh just you wait.

--------

Still gonna stalk you btw! ♥♥♥

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 13: The Oscars

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which they attend the Oscars and Y/N almost misses it.

Word count: 5k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Song in the kitchen scene: A Million Times - Alice Kristiansen ft. Julian Lamadrid 

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

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.

.

“And the Oscar goes toooooooo...HARRY STYLES!”

“Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not!” Y/N plumped down on to the treehouse floor, sitting with her legs crossed as she shook Harry’s arm gently. “Come on. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I’m not being hard on myself. I’m being realistic,” he replied, toying with a yellow leaf he’d found on the floor just to avoid making eye contact as they spoke. Y/N didn’t get why he was embarrassed and so doubtful of himself. She had seen him on stage when he’d been Romeo last year. He was one of the best kid actors and no one could convince her otherwise.

“Your new drama teacher was a meanie,” she huffed, arms folded across her chest.

Harry finally cast her a glance as the corners of his mouth turned up. “You’re not being objective. Mrs Berry was.”

“You’re a kid! Kids are allowed to make mistakes. That’s the only way they can learn and improve. My writing sucks but you don’t see me giving up.”

“Has anyone ever told you your writing sucks?”

“Celine’s brother.”

“He’s an arsehole.”

“Harry!”

“Sorry,” Harry chuckled, lifting both hands. “He’s a bum.”

Y/N didn’t laugh when he did. If her mum and dad knew he cursed all the time, they wouldn’t let her hang out with him anymore. “Well,” she exhaled. “I feel sorry for your teacher. She probably has nothing better to do with her life than crushing kids’ dreams because her dreams had died with her talent when she became a teacher instead of an actress.”

“Are you sure you’re ten years old?” Harry smiled, giving her a look that could be interpreted as either amazed or amused or both.

She’d never told him, but he had one of the best smiles she’d ever seen, which was why she was sure he would become successful. Having a great smile was a great quality for every actor. At least that was what her best friend Celine had told her.

“Are you sure you’re older than me?” she rebutted.

He lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug. “I’m gonna listen to you because you’re a know-it-all.”

She said nothing and launched herself to her feet, clearing her throat. He watched with a confused look on his face when she picked up his water bottle and held it with both hands like the way an actor would hold the Oscar statue.

“Harry is too shy to come on stage and accept this Academy Award,” she said, “so I’m gonna accept it on his behalf. He’d like to thank his family, his drama teacher Mrs Berry, and his biggest fan Y/N aka Bambi. These are the people who helped shape his career.” Harry doubled over laughing as she lifted the water bottle above her head. “Thank you so much for this award. Have a good night, Los Angeles!”

.

.

.

Y/N contemplated her reflection in the full-length mirror while Harry was watching her from the couch on the side. She cast him a sideways glance, to which he responded with a thumbs-up and a grin.

She sucked in a breath, looking back at herself. She looked different. She felt different. She had worn plenty of expensive gowns that didn’t belong to her and attended countless exclusive events with Harry before. But this. This was the Academy Awards. And she was wearing the kind of dress that was meant to turn heads on the red carpet, the kind of dress that models wore on the runway. She used to watch award shows with her best friends all the time, and could never imagine herself pulling off such elegant outfits. But now, she almost looked like she belonged at the Oscars.

She wasn’t wearing any make-up and her hair was in a simple low ponytail, so she knew the dress had done all the work to make her look desirable. Harry’s designer had taken the inspiration from the iconic silver dress in The Little Mermaid, when Ariel returned from the sea and reunited with Prince Eric. Harry had joked that Y/N resembled a fawn more than a princess, and she had smacked him hard on the arm, proving that she was neither.

“Is it too tight?” asked Meili – the designer. She was so kind that Y/N felt like they’d been friends forever. But on second thought, being a professional, it was Meili’s job to make her clients feel most comfortable in and out of her designs.

“No, this is perfect,” Y/N said.

“Are you sure?” She confirmed with a nod. “All right.” Meili patted her gently on the back. “How about we try walking?”

And so Y/N descended the steps and sauntered about the fitting area to make sure she was comfortable and able to breathe normally. Harry had risen from the sofa and come to stand beside Meili, his eyes dancing with amusement as he watched Y/N strike a silly pose.

“What do you think?” she asked him.

Instead of answering the question, he turned to Meili. “Can you show me how to take it off?”

Meili had quite a good laugh watching Harry with his hands up in defence as Y/N tried to hit him without hurting the dress. It was then that the sound of her ringtone from her bag came for his rescue.

He pecked her cheek and stayed to chat with Meili about his outfit while Y/N answered the call from her agent.

“Y/N!” Laura said before Y/N could speak. “What are you doing, babe?”

“I’m at the fitting for the Oscars.”

There was a pause followed by a dramatic sigh. “Oh, I nearly forgot that you’re attending the Oscars. Are you nervous?”

“Kind of.” Y/N giggled. “But I suppose you’re not calling me to ask what I’m doing, are you, Laura?”

“Of course not! I’d like to remind you that we’re having a party next Saturday!”

“Right, right, party–No!”

Both Harry and Meili whipped their heads back to gape at Y/N.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “I thought it was a brilliant idea–”

Y/N shushed her boyfriend as she indicated the phone to let him know she wasn’t talking to him.

“Hi, Laura!” he shouted, and Laura, who obviously had heard it, squealed like a schoolgirl and demanded to be put on speaker.

Y/N tapped the speaker icon as she slumped into the couch where Harry soon joined her, sitting with an arm around her shoulders. “Hi, Laura,” he repeated.

Laura laughed excitedly. “Hi, Harry! We’ve never met before but I’ve heard so much about you!”

“And I’ve heard so much about you!”

“I’m your client, Laura. Not him,” Y/N snorted as Harry kissed her temple.

“Oh, yes, right.” Laura cleared her throat to compose herself. “So what’s the matter? I thought–”

“The Oscars is next Sunday night, Laura. I have to catch the plane on Saturday morning. I can’t go to your party.”

“Your party, Y/N.”

“What party?” Harry asked.

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but Laura was faster. “To celebrate your girl’s debut novel! It hasn’t come out yet, but everything is settled. It’s a tradition. I always throw this party for my client. Everyone at the agency will be there and there will be some guests from the publishing house and some published authors. It’ll be grand.”

Y/N sucked in a breath and pinched her temple, her eyes met Harry’s. His expression was unreadable. To Laura, she asked, “Can we push it back a few days?”

“Absolutely not! I’ve sent out the invitations. You told me any date this month would do!”

Y/N had. And she kind of regretted it now. She’d been chatting with Gemma when Laura asked her about the date. Gemma had been devastated by what had happened with Winton, so Y/N had been busy comforting her and told Laura to just pick any date she’d like. It was all her fault; she should have reminded Laura about the Oscars.

Y/N glanced back at Harry, hoping he didn’t think she’d purposely prioritized her success over his. Because why would she think her first novel was a better reason to celebrate than his first-ever Oscar nomination?

But Harry didn’t seem vexed. His dimples appeared as he traced his fingertips along the strap of her sparkling dress. “It’s okay, Laura,” he said to the phone. “You don’t have to change the date.”

Y/N’s eyes went round as Laura hissed, “Yes!”

“Baby–”

“You’ll go to your party,” he said, “and I’ll send my ride to pick you up and take you to the airport. They won’t leave without you, silly.”

Right. She’d be travelling on his private jet.

“But...I’ll be late.”

“So?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I can manage the first few hours without you. Why should your career be any less important than mine?”

“He’s right, Y/N,” Laura said.

Y/N swivelled in her seat to face him as she took his hand. “I’ll just come to say hello to the guests–”

“And give a speech!” Laura interjected, making Y/N roll her eyes and Harry chuckle.

“Fine, I’ll come to say hello and give a speech and then I’ll come to you.”

“Deal?” His lips twitched as he gave her his pinkie.

“Deal,” she said, hooking her pinkie with his.

.

.

.

The party was insane.

Y/N had specifically asked Laura not to overdo this, but the agent had insisted on throwing her favourite client the most Gasby party she could pull off. Y/N didn’t even know half of the faces who’d shaken her hand and congratulated her on her debut novel which hadn’t been released yet. She felt like a fraud. What if these people ended up hating her book? What if this party made her seem like a show-off? She was already dating an Oscar nominee; she didn’t want to be branded as any more privileged than that.

She kept the speech she’d promised Laura as short and simple as possible, then returned polite smiles to the guests as she made her way to the back of the room. She wouldn’t be surprised if these folks thought that she had zero personality. When it came to self-branding, she needed all the help she could get. How did Harry do it? How did he charm people into liking him before they even viewed his work? As much as she loved him, she couldn’t help but envy him sometimes.

She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress before getting another glass of champagne and finishing it a second before Laura came up to check on her.

“You okay? You look a bit pale,” Laura said.

“Well, I tend to get anxious at formal events,” Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “I usually attend these kinds of parties with Harry. He’d do all the talking and help me get involved in the conversation. He’s very charismatic.”

“I’m charismatic!” Laura said with a hand on her chest. Y/N responded with a smile. Laura wascharismatic. The problem was, Y/N was more comfortable with Harry. Or maybe she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she’d miss the red carpet walk with him. She hated to be the one to break a promise.

“You need to stop checking your watch like modern Cinderella at the royal ball.”

Y/N dropped her arm back to her side. “I’m so nervous, Laura.”

“About this party? People love you!”

“About...everything.” This party. Her 2 AM flight. The Oscars. Showing up late. Missing Harry’s category. Her book release. The likelihood of having people roast her book unforgivingly on the internet.

She had the tendency of freaking out over insignificant matters whenever good things kept happening to her. Because, as usual, bad luck would come for her when she was most defenceless and took away her joy. This time, she could feel it in her stomach.

Laura gripped her shoulders and squeezed them tight. “You are my superstar, Y/N. You are the shit. You are the most brilliant–”

“Okay, I get it, I get it,” she laughed, pulling Laura into a hug. “Thank you for tonight. I owe you so much, Laura.”

“Don’t be stupid. You saved my life. Literally,” Laura smirked and gently patted Y/N’s cheek. “Now, let’s go say goodbye to the guests. It’s almost time for you to go.”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She’d been waiting for this moment since she’d arrived. People might wonder why she seemed more energetic saying goodbye to them than when she’d welcomed them to the party. But she was just happy that she could finally leave. The last thing she wanted was to show up late for her flight (Harry had said the plane wouldn’t leave without her but she hated delays anyway) and missed more of the Oscar ceremony tomorrow than she’d allowed herself to.

The journey to LA happened in a rush. She’d slept for most of her twelve-hour flight because she’d been so exhausted. Harry’s bodyguard only woke her up when they were about to land. The next thing she knew, she was taken to his LA house. She had never been there before. It was much bigger than the one in London, but less homely, perhaps because she’d known every corner of the place that was supposed to be theirs. This one just seemed like a resort.

The hair and makeup team and Harry’s stylist were waiting upstairs to make her Oscars-ready. She’d eaten quite a lot on the plane before it took off, so she feared she wouldn’t fit in the dress. Magically, she did. And she felt so silly for feeling like she might burst into tears.

When the makeup artist asked how she’d like to have her makeup done, she told them to make her recognizable. They didn’t ask her to elaborate on that, so she hoped they knew what she meant. She didn’t want to be the centre of attention tonight, especially when she was going to show up late. The only attention she craved for was Harry’s and she was going to get it anyway, with or without this glamorous costume.

Fortunately, the makeup artist did a fantastic job. They gave her simple eye makeup and red lips and put her hair up into a classic high bun. It wasn’t until tonight that she couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror. Harry would be so impressed.

As Harry’s team did some final touches on her face, one girl showed her some clips and pictures of Harry on the red carpet. He looked dashingly handsome and comfortable, and when being interviewed, he said he loved her and couldn’t wait to see her later. The part of her that had been feeling guilty could finally let go of that breath she’d been holding. She thanked the makeup team for everything and came downstairs when her car arrived.

The chauffeur was a middle-aged man with greyish hair and a kind face. He was talking on the phone and ended the call as soon as he saw her. He looked rather tired, but before she could ask for his name and if he was feeling well, she remembered that she’d left her clutch upstairs, and so she asked him to wait while she went back to get it. He told her to take her time.

When she came downstairs for the second time, the man was on the phone again. He didn’t see her return so he didn’t hang up. Y/N couldn’t help but overhear the last part of the conversation where he told whoever he was speaking to that he would be at the hospital as soon as he finished his job.

“Is everything okay, sir?” she asked once he’d finished the call. He whipped around, seemingly startled to see her there. “You can tell me if something is wrong. I might be able to help,” she said.

The chauffeur looked hesitant at first. He worked his jaw for a moment before he could tell her, “My daughter...is sick. She’s just been taken to the hospital. I’ll go see her as soon as I take you to–”

“No! You’re going to see her now!” cried Y/N.

He squinted his eyes at her as if he thought she was testing him. “Are you...are you sure, Miss? Mr Styles told me–”

“I’ll talk to Harry for you. Don’t worry.”

Telling someone not to worry never seemed to work. The man screwed up his face as he shoved a hand in his hair. “Should I send you another car, Miss? Mr Styles said...he said that you couldn’t drive.”

“Of course I can!” Y/N blurted, then realized how defensive she’d sounded.

She could drive. However, she was afraid to sit behind the wheel.

Ever since her accident, she’d been using public transport and let Harry drive her around instead of doing it herself. He knew it wasn’t just her anxiety of getting into another accident. Her mother had died in a car crash, and Harry had seen how scared she’d been when he’d crashed his motorcycle. Those final thirty seconds after the collision and before she’d gone unconscious, Y/N had felt it all at once. Her mother’s death, her almost losing Harry, her head cracking open and the numbness when she lay on broken glass and her vision faded to black. She could only hope she would get through her fear this time.

“I’ll take one of his cars,” she reassured the man. “Don’t worry about me, sir. Your daughter needs you.”

The man thanked Y/N repeatedly and hurried back to the car parked in the drive. Y/N waited until he was gone, checked the time to make sure she’d make it, then she sucked in a deep breath and headed to the garage.

.

.

.

Harry was a bundle of nerves trying to act composed while the other nominations were being presented. There were cameras everywhere and they could zoom into his face at any moment so he could not look like he might throw up. He was here for his Best Actor nomination; it’d be so embarrassing if he couldn’t act like he was having the best time of his life.

Y/N should have been here a long time ago. Where the fuck was she? She’d texted him that she’d drive here by herself. He didn’t want to be pessimistic, but the last time she’d sat behind the wheel, she’d ended up in the hospital.

It’d been half a year since, but he couldn’t forget that feeling when he got the call. He was praying to God that the next time his phone buzzed, it would be her telling him she’d arrived safely. If something unpleasant was going to happen (as it always did), he would accept anything as long as she was safe.

The moment his phone sounded, he jolted so hard he might have startled the lady sitting beside him. Jeff’s words swivelled in his head: Do not check your phone during someone’s acceptance speech.Well, screw that. His girl wasn’t here and the last thing he would worry about was looking like an asshole on live television.

➣ I’m here.

When he saw those words, the lump in his throat dissolved and his body relaxed into the cushion. His fake smile had been replaced with a genuine one, so at least people who saw him texting during Brad Pitt’s speech would just assume he was texting his girlfriend, who was supposed to fill the vacancy next to him.

Good. I saved you a seat, he typed and sent.

➣ I’m staying backstage. I can’t go out there.

Harry’s smile dropped as he squirmed in his chair. Why? Are you okay?

She took a bit longer to reply.

➣ Yes, don’t worry. There’s a screen here. I can watch you.

Harry muttered a curse as he put his phone back into his pocket. After a moment of leg bouncing and lip biting, he decided to go check on her.

.

.

.

Y/N splashed water on her face, which was now clean of makeup and checked her pathetic reflection in the mirror one last time before she left the bathroom. She’d been sweating so hard on the way here that by the time she’d arrived, Harry’s beauty team’s two-hour of hard work had been ruined. She’d even ripped her dress by accident when she’d nearly fallen headfirst in the car park, so going out there to sit beside Harry would do so much damage to his reputation.

Besides, she was fatigued after the long flight and hadn’t rested since she got off the plane. She’d thrown up as soon as she’d texted him and found the bathroom. So it was for the best if she didn’t make an appearance tonight. It was less intimidating here backstage. She could just watch him on the screen and–

Where the fuck was he?

Her eyes frantically searched on the screen for her boyfriend.

Where had he gone?

No, he couldn’t–

“Bambi!”

She smacked him with her clutch as he rushed in for a hug. The backstage security and a few others couldn’t help the amusement as they watched them. Y/N flashed the strangers a smile before turning back to her boyfriend, who looked so stupidly happy it should be illegal. “Jeff would kill you! Go back out there!”

“But you’re here,” he said.

“I’m not nominated, you idiot!”

“I’m the idiot? You drove here!”

“I have a fucking license!”

“Then you’re an idiot with a fucking license!”

He didn’t wait for her to rebut and locked her in his arms, squeezing the air out of her like he hadn’t seen her in years. She held him back, for a second forgetting that she was sweating like a pig, her hair had fallen loose and her face weary from jetlag. She didn’t feel any less desirable, though. She knew he loved her anyway.

“Go out there with me,” he said, cupping her cheeks and kissing her nose.

“Are you crazy? Look at me!”

He pulled back to consider her appearance, his eyebrow arched. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

She glared at him as he grinned. “The world doesn’t wear rose-coloured glasses like you do.”

His face grew serious. “You’re right. Maybe I see a princess and they see a frog.”

Too familiar with his teasing, she snorted, “Your ability to go from Prince Charming to an arsehole never fails to amaze me.”

“My pleasure.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers just in time his phone chimed in his pocket. “Shit, that must be Jeff. I must go before he finds me here.” He let out a long heavy breath and then stroked her hair like she was a child. “Can you stay here by yourself, baby?”

“Keep talking like that and people might think you’re my dad,” she said.

“Daddy.” He smirked.

She hit him again, shaking with laughter. “Go!”

“Okay, love you, idiot.”

“Love you, too, idiot.”

He kissed her on the cheek and then he was gone.

.

.

.

Harry didn’t win.

Even though he’d said he wasn’t disappointed, and he didn’t seem disappointed at all, Y/N still suspected that he might be faking it. It wasn’t such a big loss since he’d been up against some big contenders. He was young, so there was a bigger chance for him to get an Oscar in the future. However, she knew the feeling of not expecting anything but still feeling awful when you didn’t get it. She’d known his chance was flimsy, and yet she had hoped he’d win somehow. She might have to wait until next year to hear his acceptance speech.

Exhausted (Y/N more than Harry), they skipped the after-party to have one at home by themselves. They drank champagne and danced barefoot around the kitchen in their nice clothes. The house which Y/N had compared to a resort soon became familiar with his presence.

Streetlights, stumbling home

To our very own, after party

Won't lie, when we're alone

You're my favourite poem to recite

Harry turned down the volume of the song playing on the speaker. As Y/N poured some more champagne, he climbed onto a chair, standing on one foot, the other foot resting on the kitchen island.

She watched him with lazy eyes and took another sip. “If you fall, I’ll let you fall.”

He chuckled. “I’m overwhelmed by your love, Bambi.” Then he shook his head and pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. It took her two seconds to figure out that it was his acceptance speech. She slid into a chair and gazed up at him with her chin on her knuckles.

He cleared his throat extravagantly and began by thanking the Academy, the cast and crew and the director of his movie, then his family and his team. It must be the wine that made every word he said in that posh accent extremely funny. She laughed so hard she almost fell off the chair.

Then, he took the longest pause to consider her, and the room sank to silence as he worked his jaw before he proceeded. “There’s this girl I love. She used to be my little secret but now she’s here watching me accept my first Academy Award. She’s the reason I’m here today, so I owe this one to her.”

Then he raised his glass as if it was the award and hopped off the chair. Before she could applaud, he’d pulled her to her feet and pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her as if she was the only thing he wanted. She kissed him back just as hard, hands in his hair, on his neck, his chest, his back, his face. Her whole body was on fire. It must be the wine. She needed to get out of this dress and get him out of his suit.

Went to bed without you (While you were sleeping)

Felt colder it used to (I crossed an ocean)

And I can't wait (And I can't wait)

'Till I get back to you

“It sounded better when I first wrote it. I’m kind of glad I didn’t win,” he said against her lips as he picked her up and sat her on the edge of the kitchen island.

She tipped her head back and laughed. “At least you weren’t going to propose to me on the stage.”

Suddenly, he stopped. She blinked as he pulled away, his mouth red and glossy from kissing her. She hadn’t even got a chance to feel bad for making that joke and he’d already stepped back. The next thing she knew, he was on one knee on the floor.

She slapped a hand over her open mouth. Her mind went blank, and the music in the background faded to white noise. The thundering beats in her chest made it hard for her to breathe. He wasn’t going to, was he? But if he was, was she going to say yes?

“My beautiful mermaid, frog, little deer,” he began with a straight face, and she choked out an unexpected laugh muffled by her hand. “I love you,” he said. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Then he sucked in a breath. The suspense was killing her. “But...I don’t want to marry you–”

“Excuse me?!”

“–right now.”

She could tell he was trying his best not to guffaw at her reaction. She was confused and amused at the same time. What was going on? Was he really that drunk? He didn’t seem that drunk. She would kick his arse if he thought this was funny!

“I just want to let you know,” he went on despite the look on her face, “that I will ask you to marry me. I know you hate surprises and if I asked you unexpectedly, the chances of you saying no would be much higher. So let’s consider this as a proposal for a bigger proposal.” He wetted his lips, his eyes fixed on hers. “Y/N, my darling, will you allow me to ask you to marry me someday?”

She laughed out loud though her eyes were already filled with tears. She didn’t know why she was crying but she couldn’t stop. She blamed the wine and him and his stupid speech and whatever the fuck he thought he was doing right now. “I hate you.” She laughed through her tears. “I hate you so much.”

He got up, his eyes wide. “You hate me after I told you I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you?”

“Yes.”

He closed the distance between them, standing between her legs with his hands on her hips. “Yes, I can ask you to marry me in the future, or yes, you hate me for what I said?”

“Both.” She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth against his. “I love you. I hate you. I love you,” she said in between kisses. “I love you so much I hate you.”

“Tonight is the best night of my life,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I didn’t want to win. I just wanted you to be there with me.”

“I’ll be there with you next time.” She rested her forehead against his. “And next time, and next time, and forever...”

You don't fall in love once but a million times

Waking up each morning with you by my side

When I drift away, I'll come back with the tide

I'm falling in and out again

Falling in and out again

[phoebus-de-chateaupers-blog]

The Winter’s Ball ... [Duchebus]

In which Duchess and Phoebus attend the Order’s Winter Ball in London. [takes place: December 29th]

@the-duchess-lablanc

[tw -- phoebus being phoebus which means like objectification and plotting murder,,]

PHOEBUS: Ah, the Winter’s Ball.

The tradition. The glam. The frivolity.

It was everything that the Order of the Prince wanted to emulate.

Phoebus normally found it dreadfully boring. Sure, he liked a good party, but he knew these were the types of events where even he had to be on his best behavior. When he’d been younger, he’d tripped over himself like an overgrown pup, excited to meet all the pretty girls and feel them up in corridors...erm, dance with them…

Anyway, as he had gotten older, everyone had paired off and it had led to a rather boring procession. Of course, he danced with his mother and his sister and his little niece. Occasionally, he managed a dance with Olivia. (That was always the highlight of the night.)

But now, he was here with Duchess on his arm. Who looked more beautiful than any of the Order women. Was smarter too. Independent. And looked absolutely gorgeous in her dress, which he was sure would be the talk of the ball, if they weren’t the talk of the ball themselves.

See, you weren’t supposed to bring someone who wasn’t your betrothed with you to one of these, if they were outside the Order. Phoebus didn’t really care. He trusted Duchess and that was all that mattered to him. Also...he hadn’t exactly told his family. Which was going to be hilarious, for they were going to have to just grin and bare it. It would be unseemly to yell at their only adult son, the only remaining male heir of age, in front of the whole Order.

They stood outside of the Guild Hall doors now, people sweeping in and out around them. Though located in the theatre district of London, no one paid them a passing glance in their formal wear. Hiding in plain sight, as the Order was wont to do.

Phoebus turned to Duchess before entering and smiled lightly at her. “Are you ready? I’ve got to find my mother first and say hello. Tradition,” he explained with a little roll of his eyes.

DUCHESS: She had been surprised when Phoebus had invited her to the Winter’s Ball. There was still so little she knew about the Order of the Prince. Just what Phoebus had told her. She’d tried to do her own research but there hadn’t been much. Just stories that changed and twisted and contradicted with every other source. It was infuriating.

Added to that the new status of her and Phoebus’ relationship and it was very safe to say that the normally very well put together designer was in a state of panic. Not that that could be seen if you looked at her. As usual she was a picture of confidence. Inside, her mind was a tornado of thought. So many questions that she felt she couldn’t ask, situations that could happen, and what if’s twirled around mind. Sooner or later it would quiet down; more than likely once they were in the midst of mingling and more in her element.

She watched as people milled about, amazed how not one single passerby stopped to question the people standing around in such attire. Her own dress, while simple and understated, was not one that would be seen just out on the streets of London; even if they were in the theatre district.

Phoebus easily and quickly brought her out of her thoughts, his voice causing her gaze to return to him. His mother. Duchess had not yet gotten that far in her spiralling thought process but now that it was there she couldn’t help the way her stomach clenched. Very rarely had she ever had to meet parents as a significant other. Most of her relationships either fizzled before that point or she already knew the parents.

“Who am I to argue tradition,” she returned his smile easily. “Shall we?”

PHOEBUS: This was a very big deal.

Which meant that Phoebus was acting like it was not a big deal at all. In fact, he didn’t think it was, not really. The Order was who made it into a big deal. They were the ones with the rules that said so. Phoebus just happened to...follow those rules. Which was why he thought the same way. He had never done this before. Taken someone to meet his parents. Well, when he had been younger and a rapscallion, he had brought girls to these events just to be scandalous.

He had never done it seriously.

But, here they were.

It was a good thing if Duchess was nervous that she was doing a good job masking it. Her nerves would certainly make his own worse. She was calm, however, and it calmed him.

“We shall,” he said, offering his elbow to her before stepping forwards into the building that had been owned by the Order for generations.

It opened into a hallway, people mingling, but Phoebus ignored them--heading right for the ballroom at the end of the hall. He knew that his mother would be more likely to be mingling inside, as she always arrived to these events promptly. Unlike him.

“That is the King of the Order. Not a real king. Title only. This year is the melee to change the family. I will be fighting for my family and I have a very good feeling about it,” he murmured to her as they walked, his eyes still scanning the crowd.

“Ah! My little far-darter,” came a cooing voice and Phoebus turned just before his mother reached up to tug him down by the shirt and kiss both of his cheeks. “And who is this, you rascal?” His mother said, pushing him away and zeroing in on Duchess. “Could it be that LaBlanc woman I’ve heard so much about?” Her expression was assessing, but not negative nor positive.

“Duchess, meet my mother--Lady Sorcha de Chateaupers. Mother, this is Duchess. My date.”

DUCHESS: This was a daunting feat that left Duchess feeling so out of her depth. While she was known to be charming and alluring, it was all a facade for the public. A way to keep her life as private as possible.  But this was her private life. She was very much smitten with Phoebus and after the rather frank discussion about his dalliances with other women, she was sure he felt completely the same. Being allowed to see this part of his life, to actively participate in it, was surreal and terrifying. Too far out of the unknown.

She took his arm without pause, gliding along beside him. Inside the building she could see the heads turn towards them, hear the whispers. This must be as new to them as it was to her. At least she was making an entrance. Her head was held a bit higher, her gaze staying ahead of them. It only faltered when Phoebus pointed out the ‘King’ of the Order and even then she assessed the man quickly before turning back to look at Phoebus. “Winning would make you king, non?” She asked with a raised brow. The term sounded almost silly on her tongue. Though she couldn’t deny that Phoebus already held a somewhat regal air that would allow that title to fit him quite nicely. (And if there was a part of her that wondered if that would make her Queen, she didn’t speak of it. Simply squashed it down with the other questions she had.)

In what felt like no time at all, they were approached and as Duchess had turned to admire the great ballroom she couldn’t help but feel a small chill. There was absolutely no turning back now.

A small smile tucked itself into the corner of her lips as his mother greeted him. For the briefest of moments she wished her family was the same, but just like her previous thoughts it was whisked away to the farthest reaches of her mind. All too quickly, however, the attention was turned to her.

Duchess knew the look the woman wore well. She was being appraised much like she had done to various runway shows before. To be the object of that appraisal was nerve wracking. Her heart beat out a staccato sort of sound in her chest, rattling her rib cage as she held her breath. Said breath wasn’t released until her name fell from Phoebus’ lips.

“A pleasure, Lady Sorcha,” Duchess bowed her head towards the woman, her nerves skillfully hidden away. Mothers were like predators. They could smell fear and Duchess refused to give that to the woman. “I do hope all you have heard has been good things.”

PHOEBUS: Well, she’d used his mother’s title. That was sure to earn her some points. Though, Phoebus had a feeling his mother was simply putting on a show. She had been wanting him to settle down for a very long time now. And with someone as beautiful and accomplished as Duchess? With so many connections and influence?

She really was the complete package, and his mother should know that.

Still, Phoebus reached over to give Duchess’ hand in the crook of his elbow a little squeeze, though to the outside it would look as if Phoebus was simply resting it there.

“Oh, of course, my dear. I don’t know what there would be bad to say!” His mother smiled then, looking much more warm. “We will have lots to talk about, I’m a bit of an artist myself.”

“Duchess is also a businesswoman, mother,” interjected Phoebus.

“Ach, I know. Beauty and brains? I wouldn’t have any less for my Phoebus. I don’t think he’d have any less for himself, though the last girl he’d brought was a bimbo if she was anything.”

“Mother, that was eight years ago,” Phoebus protested, his cheeks coloring a bit.

“Well, you shouldn’t have brought her at all.” She sniffed and her expression turned a little harder towards Duchess. “I am sure this one has a proper head on her shoulders, though, don’t you, my dear?”

DUCHESS: Phoebus’ mother turned to her fully and Duchess would have wilted under that assessing gaze if she were a lesser woman. As it was, she didn’t feel the need to. Instead met it with a smile of her own as she gave a soft laugh. It was a quiet relief that the woman had not heard bad things about her. After all, the rumor mill was always churning against her. Tabloids trying to do anything they could to dig up dirt on the elusive Duchess LaBlanc.

Still, she was grateful for Phoebus’ gentle touch.

“Oui,” she spoke quickly, interest painting it’s way onto her words. She hadn’t known that his mother had an interest in art. In fact there was not much that she knew about his mother. Nothing at all could have prepared her for this meeting. Something she would have to chide Phoebus about later in private. “Do you paint?” She found herself asking, wanting to know more about her. The Order was still a confusing thing to her. It’s purpose was clear but the role of each member was still something unknown to her. Were the women of the Order simply there for decoration? Or was there more to it? She had a feeling that if she was able to please Lady Sorcha she would have a better in on everything to do with The Order.

As Lady Sorcha continued, Duchess couldn’t help but chuckle oh so softly.

“I can assure you, I am no bimbo.” Duchess sobered quickly as that harsh gaze was once again turned towards her. The fact that she needed to assert that was almost an insult. Duchess kept her remark to herself only because she knew that his mother was feeling her out. “And I do not mean to brag but if my business is anything to go by, I can also assure you that I have quite the head on my shoulders. Good enough to keep Phoebus in line, should he need it. Though, I can safely say that he has been nothing but a perfect gentleman since I’ve known him.”

PHOEBUS: “Of course he has been.” Sorcha reached out to pat her son’s chest fondly. “But, I’m sure you could handle him otherwise,” she added, giving Duchess an appraising glance.

“I’m standing right here,” Phoebus said with a little huff--if only to make his mother chuckle at him.

His father appeared through the crowd just then, weaving his way towards his wife and son--whom he had not seen in several months.

“Phoebus!” his father greeted in a gruff voice, reaching out to shake his son’s hand. “And who might this lovely woman be? Surely not our Phoebus’ date!” It was said jovially but Phoebus heard the words beneath: that better not be Phoebus’ date.

“Silas, stop it. This is Duchess LaBlanc,” Sorcha introduced, “Duchess--this is my husband, Silas.”

“A pleasure.” Silas’ blue eyes twinkled but Phoebus knew better. There was a calculation to his gaze. Not that Phoebus cared, he would be with Duchess either way, because that was the kind of person Phoebus was. He didn’t care to listen to an old man’s opinions about who he should or should not be with. The Order had always been stifling that way. Phoebus agreed with their mission, but he did not agree with their traditions.

“And how are you finding our little gathering, then?” Phoebus’ father asked, but Phoebus knew what he was really asking: how do you feel about the Order?

DUCHESS: For a moment, as Phoebus’ father approached, Duchess was speechless. The man was, in a word, handsome. Of course it went much deeper than that. There was something about his presence. It demanded to be noticed, commanded Duchess’ attention even as she hung off of his son’s arm. Maybe that was what Phoebus would look like when he was older. The hair that he’d clearly gotten from his mother would turn a lovely shade of white and he’d grow some black in there for that lovely salt and pepper look. He’d be so dashing; even more dashing than he was at the moment.

Not long after he announced his presence, Sorcha introduced her to him and Duchess had the good sense to at least incline her head at him as she offered a kind smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Silas.” Even his name felt handsome rolling of her tongue. Rich and decadent. And she only hoped that she could make as good an impression on him as she did with Lady Sorcha.

His question caught her off guard just a bit. If anyone were to ask that question, Duchess thought it would be his mother. After all, it was a question Duchess would have asked because that sort of thing was important to her. What people thought of her events often reflected what they thought of her and— oh. There it was. The secret question hidden within the other question.

“Well,” she started slowly as she looked around at the people that were beginning to mill about more. “From what I have seen this is all very lovely. While the events in Swynlake are nice. It’s more satisfying to be in a more familiar space.” She gave him a smile as she leaned into Phoebus just slightly. “This is the type of soirée I would prefer to associate myself with.”

PHOEBUS: Silas chuckled heartily at Duchess’ answer, his eyes twinkling.

“Yes, well, you fit in wonderfully, my darling,” Silas complimented, his eyes trailing up and down Duchess’ frame.

“Silas,” Sorcha said with a smile of her own, leaning in to take his elbow. “Let’s leave the children alone to have their fun.”

“Yes, dear.” Silas smiled at his wife, touching her cheek for a moment before turning back to Phoebus and Duchess. “Have a good time. Duchess, I hope we will be seeing more of you in the future. Phoebus needs a woman like you to keep him in order.”

Phoebus rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Good-bye, Da.”

With another chuckle, Phoebus’ parents moved off. They were still getting curious glances from other members of the Order, though Phoebus knew that a few of them were jealous women--Phoebus now taken and Duchess looking ever so beautiful He put a hand on the small of her back. “Well, that went much better than last time. Not that I am surprised.”

And he wasn’t. Before, Phoebus had been trying to get under his father’s skin. Show him that if he did not think him better than Clemens, then Phoebus really would be the worst son imaginable. Now that Clemens was gone, Phoebus was trying to temper his ways. Also, he did find this life suited Duchess. He wanted to shower her in gifts of jewels and smithery. She would look beautiful against the wild sea of Denmark, where he hoped they could make a home.

“Would you like to dance, my love? Show off that beautiful dress of yours?”

DUCHESS: Duchess caught the look that Silas gave her but she ignored it purely in favor of basking in his approval. It had seemed that she had gained the approval of both of his parents and it was a good feeling. One that made her feel light and airy; giddy even. “Thank you, Silas,” she smiled at him, nodding her head at him. “I hope to come to more of these. They are certainly enjoyable.”

And it was all true. So far from what she had seen Duchess was very much enjoying herself. The Order was not some stuffy institution to be trapped in. From what she had seen it was a place where like minded people could come together and celebrate beautiful things, all while making the world they lived in a safer place. It was a place she would be able to find her place in easily.

She was stuck in her thoughts, watching as people danced and mingled and interacted. So much so that when Phoebus addressed her again she nearly startled. Instead, though, she turned towards him with somewhat of a smirk on her lips. Oh did she love the chance to show off. And from the looks she had garnered from some of the women (and their counterparts) there was already some jealousy in the room.

“Mmm, maybe show off the woman on your arm. Have I snagged the most eligible bachelor?” She smirked as they moved towards the dance floor.

PHOEBUS: Phoebus hoped that Duchess could attend more of these as well. His mind spun with all the possibilities. It spooled out a thread--

One day, soon, Phoebus as King, Duchess by his side.

A year from now, perhaps, a wedding (the Order had very specific courtship rituals and whilst Phoebus had never been interested in marrying within the Order (besides one), he would want to honor those rituals.)

A year after that, a baby. A boy first, and then a girl--and after that, as many as Duchess would want. He had always wanted a big family. Duchess would be a wonderful mother and they would raise strong sons who would keep their seat as King for longer than any family that had come before him.

Years from now, he and Duchess would retire by the seaside--their children grown, the castle theirs. Duchess would still do her fashion. Phoebus would write his demon encyclopedia for young hunters.

It would be a good life.

But first, a dance.

Phoebus pulled Duchess onto the dance floor and spun her once. “Perhaps, but it doesn’t matter, because I found a woman smarter and more beautiful than any of them could ever hope to be.”

[bee-careful]

Witch Au Fic Rec

The Sweetest Incantation 40k

Harry has been alive for decades, and yet he’s never been as confused and dumbfounded. He’s a witch, for God’s sake. Can’t get much weirder than all the magical things he’s experienced throughout his lifetime. Never in a million years, however, would he have expected to be mere inches away from a hybrid.

Or: Harry is a witch who’s still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.

love is divine 25k

Being a witch doesn’t help when it comes to unrequited love.

you’ve got this spell on me (everything you do is magic) ˜3k

Harry accidentally turns Louis into a cat. He doesn’t know how he’s going to fix it, but he does know he’d better do so before he has to deal with Louis’s wrath.

come on, jump out at me 7k

(first one of the domestic monsters series)

Harry is a witch from a long line of power, an ancient line that’s one of the strongest left alive in their hemisphere. He can cast spells without a word if need be, fly on a broomstick, and has a black cat (a kitten, really) named Felix that is his animal familiar. He can shape galaxies in his cupped hands and can destroy them just as easily. He can choose exactly how to use his power, for encouragement and support, or for more nefarious causes if he wishes to.

And as fate would have it, he’s scared of haunted houses.

(Harry is a witch who carries around a stuffed pumpkin, Louis is a vampire with too much time on his hands, and their best mates Zayn & Niall aren’t exactly what they seem…)

wherever you are is the place i belong 10k

(second one of the domestic monsters series)

So a witch, a vampire, a werewolf, and a siren all move into a house together… It’s not a joke, it’s Harry Styles’ life, but sometimes it feels that way.

(Niall and Zayn get jobs, Harry cleans out his feelings, and Louis learns some very interesting things about one of his new flatmates…)

spaces between us hold all our secrets ˜20k

(third one of the domestic monsters series)

The house in Greater Gloomingshire just gets stranger and stranger: Mysterious comings and goings, sneaky glances, and secrets that nobody seems willing to share. Yet.

(Zayn threatens Louis with bodily harm, Niall wolfs out, and when it comes to investigating his flatmates, Detective Harry is on the case!)

i wanna reach out for you (i wanna break these walls) 31k

(fourth one of the domestic monsters series)

The wolf’s out of the bag, the witch is out of the broom closet, the siren’s out of the ocean, and the vampire’s out of the…coffin? Everybody knows about everybody now, but it’s not always so easy, rooming with the supernatural.

(the household shifts and changes, Detective Harry is on the case again, and Louis has to come to terms with who he wants to be.)

if i didn’t have you, i’d never see the sun 16k

(fifth one of the domestic monsters series)

Everything changes when you have a roommate who doesn’t Get It.

(Liam has trouble with inanimate objects, Harry blows things up, Niall is a brat, and Louis finally talks about his life B.V. - Before Vampirism.)

you will find me in places that we’ve never been 12k

(sixth one of the domestic monsters series)

1313 Willow Wisp Lane has seen many things over the course of its long life as a house, but never has it seen a surprise party consisting of an undead king, a witch who can conjure sunlight, a werewolf who doubles as a pastry chef, and a mystery.

(Louis reveals more about his past, Harry makes it rain, Niall makes food, and everyone wonders about Liam.)

i’ll make this feel like home 42k

(seventh one of the domestic monsters series)

It’s St. Patrick’s Day at the house in Greater Gloomingshire….in September.

(Liam’s “secret” is revealed, Zayn returns, Niall eats some cupcakes, while Harry and Louis both have to face the past - and the future.)

when the wolves come out 62k

(eighth one of the domestic monsters series)

Halloween is swiftly approaching; now, if only they could enjoy it.

(Gemma comes to visit, the crows may or may not be spies, and a spirit is laid to rest.)

we will find a way through the dark 31k (wip)

(ninth one of the domestic monsters series)

Louis is tired of running and Harry’s got his back.

(Harry sort-of exorcises a ghost, a Mustang is destroyed, and Louis discovers travel by mirror is not at all what it’s cracked up to be.

Far Afield 11k 

(part 1)

Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.

Suited for You 4k

(part 2)

“Louis Tomlinson, you have had that suit for almost ten years. It is time to get a new one, and it is time to get a good one.” Unfortunately, he could tell his mother wouldn’t budge. The discussion was over. They said goodbye, and Louis immediately dialed his sister Lottie.

She picked up straight away, “You have to get the suit, Lou.”                          

“Argh!” Louis yelled, hanging up on her. He missed his old flip phone, hanging up on someone was so much more satisfying.                                   

Louis’ family convinces him that he needs a new suit for some upcoming special events in his life.

It’s All Been Done (Before) 17k

Lilo 

Zayn isn’t normal for two reasons. One, he’s a warlock. Two, he’s Crown Prince of said warlocks. Witches too, actually. Not Wizards though. Those imbeciles give magic a bad name. Especially the one named Liam. He’s particularly awful. It’s too bad that they end up falling in love.

Through centuries of war, revolution, art and innovation; Zayn tries to stay away from Liam, until he can’t

Bewitched 160k

“So what’s your problem, mister?”

“I’m married to a witch.” says Louis, disbelievingly, shaking his head slightly, swirling the ice around in his shot glass. “My spouse is a witch.”

“Cheer up.“ says the Bartender "You should see my wife.”

Louis doubts that his wife is a real spell-casting, cloak-wearing, cauldron stirring, witch, like his new husband, Harry.

But, Louis suspects that nothing could surprise him anymore. Not Harry’s magical friends, not his literally disappearing sister or even the way that Harry’s able to clean a kitchen in 2 seconds.

Louis had always thought that Harry was charming, he just didn’t know how much.

Adaption of the hysterical and wonderful 1960’s tv show, starring, of course, 1D; each chapter is self contained within the universe.

Spellbound 62k (wip)

Louis Tomlinson leads a charmed life. Not because of his good job, nice house or the fact that he’s happily married; despite all those things being true.

No, Louis lives a charmed life because of the fact that his best friends, in laws and (perfect) husband all happen to be magical beings.

And just as he’s getting used to things like his sister in law literally popping in unannounced, or watching his husband turn people into animals, a new bundle of joy arrives and throws a wrench into the works.

But, you know what? Louis wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sequel to Bewitched

a long way down (to the bottom of the river) 24k

“ Most people would call Harry silly for believing in curses. Childish would also be a probable insult thrown his way. In their little town full of little people, Harry’s whimsical nature and beliefs mean that he’s subjected to frequent judgemental looks and whispers. It doesn’t usually bother him. Most people don’t know about the magic thrumming through his veins or about how powerful words can truly be. Most people don’t carry around their ancestors grief like a burden. They don’t have to pay for deeds hundreds of years old like Harry and his family have. They get to love freely without fear.

Harry and his kin aren’t so lucky.”

a practical magic au in which Harry and his sister accidentally kill her abusive boyfriend with magic and Louis is the D.I working the case.

wash him deep where the tides are turning 3k

"When Harry finally tells Louis about his family’s curse and the true love spell that broke it, they’ve been dating for seven months, nineteen days and about twelve hours and Louis’ cock is buried deep inside his arse.”

Part two of a practical magic au.

taken by the wind 8k

When he decided to move to London with his sister, Harry thought he would finally get to learn how to control his magic. He couldn’t possibly have predicted that he would fall for her neighbour.

Or the one where Harry is a clumsy witch and Louis is making everything worse just by existing.

baby, we could be enough 3k

ot5

A few weeks later, they’ve finally begun to settle in, and it’s time for Liam’s first in-home transformation.

He’s dreading it.

Keep Me In Your Pocket 3k

Louis has been living in a teapot since he was miniaturised by a witch, but Harry is determined to break the curse.

take a sip from my secret potion (falling in love) 6k

After running away to Pendle, Louis is being haunted by some angry spirits, and so he seeks solace in Worst Witch Harry Styles. Louis is looking for a potion to fix his problems, but the answer may be a bit simpler than that.

Nocturnal Creatures Are Not So Prudent 24k

Witch!Louis

Louis spins a finger in midair, like he’s indicating someone to turn around, staring pointedly at Liam as the faucet turns itself on and the can rinses itself in the sink behind him. Liam, moon burn him, doesn’t rise to the bait, choosing instead to lean back on his stool and wrapping his hands around his own mug.

“Anyway, like I was saying and that you were ignoring, there’s this new club near my school and I want you to go with me. Could do you some good, getting out once in awhile.”

Louis is a white witch with a little black cat named Hemlock and a best human friend Liam (they’re a lot like Samantha Stephens and Louise Tate). When he’s dragged out to a new club Liam’s heard about from a friend and classmate, Louis comes face to face with that which witches do not touch: a charming vampire by the name of Harry.

Everything You Do Is Magic 5k

October is a month of magic. Most carry on with their lives thinking that leaves change color from science and that the pumpkins no one has seen growing all year actually came from the ground. But others know the truth. That some possess the power to create life and take it away. Harry was one of those people.

(or the one where Harry and Zayn are witches, Liam and Louis are new in town, Niall may or may not be magic, and Harry thinks nothings better than the feeling of magic, till something is)

Try Refusing A Million Times (But You’re in Love) 16k

Harry’s a witch selling tea and sweets in The Umbrella, a shop he and his best mate Niall have just opened. But on ‘Official Opening Day’ he runs into Louis, and there the chaos ensues when Harry’s magic trickles into Louis. With Niall and Zayn at his side, it’s a regular quest for love: either Harry gets his magic back from the forbidden Louis whose dating Liam, or he performs a dark ritual on himself to save himself from Louis’ madness that he most certainly will not survive

[meetmeatthecoda]

OMG PLEASE: “Here, take my coat. This rain isn’t going to do you any favors, you’re barely over being sick.” + “Whoa there, snot monster! Just where do you think you’re going??”

Sick Prompts

Thunder booms, lightning flashes, and Liz rolls hereyes.

It figures that she would get caught in a spontaneousApril thunderstorm today, of all days. She’s been home sick for the last twodays with a nasty cold, she woke up late this morning thanks to her“non-drowsy” sinus medication, spilled yogurt on herself on the way to work,and stubbed her toe on her desk. And then, without any preamble from Cooper,she was sent to drive thirty minutes out of the way to meet Red in somegodforsaken nature reserve where the only shelter from, say, unexpectedmonsoons, is a single gazebo that Red is currently standing under, nice anddry.

Liz sighs. What a ridiculous day. She can’t wait to gethome, dry off, take a warm shower, dry off again, get in some comfortablepajamas, and just sleep, really, she can’t –

But what’s that she sees? Red is coming out from underthe gazebo? Yes, yes he is. The unyielding droplets of rain don’t take long todarken the light fabric of his tan suit. But he’s still jogging out to meet her,completely ignoring it.

“Red, what are you – “ she tries to yell to him.

But he waves her off and keeps coming. She quickensher pace towards him to at least try to meet him halfway. They don’t both needto get wet, after all. This is her bad day, not his.

Finally, after some jogging, her shoes squishing unpleasantlyinto the softening ground, they meet in the middle, rain dripping from the edgeof Red’s fedora and Liz’s hair drenched and sticking to her face.

“Red,” she starts, quieter now that he’s near. “Whatthe hell are you doing out here in the rain? You’re gonna ruin your suit and Isure as hell can’t pay that dry-cleaning bill so just – “

“Here,” he talks smoothly over her. “Take my coat.This rain isn’t going to do you any favors, you’re barely over being sick.”

Liz blinks in astonishment as Red quickly sheds hisblue windbreaker and, seeing no objection from her, drapes it around hershoulders, adjusting it so it covers her as much as possible.

Of course, Red would know that she’s been sick. Theyhave been in between cases so she hasn’t been in contact with him but sheshould know by now that nothing as trivial as missed calls will stop Red from checkingup on her. Liz knows that she should be at least a little bothered that Red wasaware of her days spent in bed with nothing but misery, pillows, and dirty tissuesbut she isn’t. Instead, she feels only a rush of warmth.

She has forgotten what it feels like to be cared for.

There is another clap of thunder and Red, to Liz’sfurther surprise, wraps an arm around her shoulders and tucks her into hisside, jogging them both back towards the gazebo.

They make it there in one piece, Liz a little drierthan she would have been and Red a little wetter than he should be. Liz turns tolook at him.

“Why did you do that?” she asks in something likewonder. When was the last time someone did something like that for her?

(She forces Tom and his meaningless, fake promisesfrom her mind.)

Red nonchalantly takes off his fedora and tips thecollected rainwater off into the grass.

“Why wouldn’t I do that, Lizzie?” he asks, frowning. “Youwere really quite sick and you’re by no means back up to one hundred percent yet.”He places his damp hat back on his head and turns to look at her. “If you’renot careful, you could catch pneumonia. I’m not about to let that happen bywatching you walk through a rainstorm while I’m standing right here with aperfectly good jacket.” He shakes his head at her, smiling a little. “Don’t besilly, Lizzie.”

Liz stares at him for a minute. He says this as ifit’s obvious, that someone would do this for her. Despite the thin shield ofdry humor, she can see the sincerity in his eyes. And despite the cloud ofeverything she doesn’t know about him that constantly hovers in between them,she can be sure of one thing.

Red cares about her.

Even with the rain currently creating a puddle at herfeet on the gazebo floor, she feels another surge of that odd warmth fill heras she looks at Red, who is standing there, smiling at her, rocking a little onthe balls of his feet.

“Well then,” she says, quietly. “You’re quite thePrince Charming.”

Red scoffs. “I hardly think so.”

“Oh, I disagree.” Liz says earnestly. “I was certainlyin distress and you came to the rescue and saved me from a relentless enemy.”

“And who might that be?”

“Mother Nature.” Liz says seriously.

Red chuckles and smiles at her. A low rumble ofreceding thunder sounds in the background of their little gazebo. Red suddenly leansforward and adjusts the lapel of his jacket around her shoulders, needlesslystraightening the edge. Liz can’t help but notice that his fingers brush hercheek very slightly.

In a surge of bravery, Liz reaches up and takes hishand, bringing it slowly down in between them and squeezing his fingers.

“So, do you think my Prince Charming would be willing totake me out for something warm to drink?”

Red beams, his thumb running across her knuckles.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Wonderful,” Liz chirps. “Let’s go.”

And she pulls on his hand, tugging him out into thenow drizzling rain, giggling as he stumbles clumsily after her.

Maybe this day isn’t so bad with Red by her side.

Liz knocks on the door, tapping her foot impatiently.If Red would just pick up the damn phone, then she wouldn’t have to make thesespecial trips out to his safe house every damn day. But nothing is ever thatsimple with Red, is it?

She knocks again, preparing to burst through and startyelling if need-be, when suddenly the door is wrenched open from under herfist. Dembe stands there staring at her, looking strangely flustered.

“Hello, Agent Keen. Raymond is indisposed right now.”

Liz frowns. “Indisposed? What do you mean? Issomething wrong?”

Dembe sighs, suddenly looking tired. “He is…feelingunder the weather.”

Liz blinks. Has Red ever been anything less thanhealthy and full of energy? “He’s sick?” If that’s true, she certainly feelsbad for nearly breaking down the door. “Well, maybe I can help.”

“No, I don’t think – “

“Dembe?” Dembe is suddenly interrupted by a familiar butnasally voice calling from deeper in the house. “Who’s there?”

Dembe gives a long-suffering sigh and Liz suddenlyunderstands that he must be playing the role of caregiver to a sick Red.

“It is Elizabeth, Raymond.” He calls over hisshoulder.

“Lizzie’s here? Oh, hello, Lizzie! Do come back,please!”

Liz raises her eyebrow at Dembe and he just shrugs,moving aside to let her pass. “He’s in the second room on the right.”

“Thanks.”

Liz wanders back to the appropriate room and, peeringthrough the open door, is met with a startling sight.

Red is propped up in bed dressed in a wrinkled whitedress shirt and rumpled slacks, discarded tissues littering the floor andbedside table. As he sees her, Red tosses the newspaper he was perusing to thebed and beams at her.

“Lizzie!”

But Liz can do little more than gape at him. She hasnever seen Red in a state quite like this before and it is very disconcerting.Her gaze is stuck somewhere between his one out-turned pocket lining and his strangelymesmerizing sock-feet.

“Everything all right, Lizzie?”

Liz snaps out of her stupor with a blink. “Me? Yeah,of course, I’m fine. You, on the other hand…” She waves her hand unnecessarily athis sniffling form.

“Me? Oh, nonsense, Lizzie, I’m perfectly fine. Just alittle cold. It’s nothing, really.”

His claim is only slightly undermined by the hugesneeze that then racks his whole body. Liz raises her eyebrows. “Um, sure.Well, look, I was here to talk about the case but you’re obviously not in anycondition to do that. So, is there anything I can get you?”  

She is suddenly worried, looking at his red-rimmedeyes, flushed cheeks, and runny nose. Has Dembe been taking his temperature?What if he has a fever? Did he just shiver?

“Are you cold? I’ll get you a blanket…”

“No, Lizzie, really – “

She ignores him – not intentionally, really, it’s justthose stupid sock feet are giving her the insane urge to coddle him – and goesto ask Dembe where the blankets are.

By the time she has a nice thick quilt and arrivesback in Red’s room, she is met with yet another surprising sight: Red leaningover the bed trying to put his shoes on.

“Whoa there, snot monster! Just where do you thinkyou’re going?”

Red looks up and frowns at the unsavory nickname. “Ifyou must know, I have a meeting to attend.”

Dembe breezes in the room. “No, Raymond, I cancelledthat meeting. You’re unwell. Take your shoes off and go back to bed.” he orderseasily.

“Oh, Dembe! You’re no fun! I’m perfectly well.” Redgrumbles even as he kicks off his shoes and grabs another tissue to blow hisnose.

Liz sighs. Somehow, this whole new side of Red seemscompletely typical. Part drama queen, part selfless martyr. No wonder Dembe isflustered. Caring for Red seems to be a full-time job. Perhaps she should tryto lighten the load.

“Here Red, I got you a blanket. How about I cover youup and you take a nap? You need rest.”

He mumbles something unflattering about mother hens thatLiz chooses to ignore because she thinks she spies a little grin on his face asshe throws the quilt over him and tucks the edges in around his body, makingsure to cover his silly sock feet. She sits on the edge of the bed and smooths thequilt over his shoulder.

“You gonna be okay, Red?”

“Of course, Lizzie, of course. You’re right, a littlenap will make me right as rain…” And he’s already drifting off to sleep and Lizcan’t help but think that he’s really quite adorable, all stuffy nosed andcuddly like this. Perhaps she’ll help Dembe with that chicken noodle soup shecan smell cooking and stay until Red wakes up.

Her little snot monster could use some loving.

[absoluteabsolem]

I have seen Beauty and the Beast and I have a lot of things to say so.. here I come (spoilers, spoilers everywhere).

I won't lie, I went to the cinema with a lot of skepticism and apprehension because I legit thought it was going to be average at best. See I've always loved the animated version and it holds a sacred place in my Disney-fan small heart, so I was a bit scared they'd ruin it because well, what if the Beast is horrible, what if Lumière and Cogsworth and the whole family are completely messed-up, what if everything goes wrong, what if Emma Watson isn't a good choice for Belle after all, what if Be Our Guest is terrible, what if all the songs lose their magic even though Alan Menken is back for the soundtrack, what if what if what if.

My experience was a bit different than it would've been if I had seen the film in my regular cinema. You see, Beauty and the Beast was my very first IMAX experience (and my eyes took their time to adjust to the incredible visuals). It was amazingly beautiful, especially during a few scenes I'll mention later. Mind you, I didn't love everything in this live-action, but my global impression is more than positive. My expectations were low to say the least, and gods was I wonderfully surprised.

I got chills the moment I heard the first notes of the prologue, mostly because of the nostalgia. I think Alan Menken adapted the soundtrack as best as could be done, but some parts lacked a bit of the original magic in my opinion. The prologue has always been my favourite instrumental part, and the beginning of it wasn't as powerful as the original one (once we get to the enchantress, the instruments take you somewhere else entirely though). The introduction is narrated by Emma Thompson, and that was a wonderful idea. I've always loved her voice and damn she does the job. Everyone needs to know that.

A song was written for the film to present the arrogant and empty Prince as well as the people who lived with him; I disliked it, very much. There are two songs I always skip while listening to the soundtrack, and it's one of them. It made me feel nauseous at the very sight of the Prince, the whole scene was incredibly disgusting to my eyes and ears. Not because the actors and the song were terrible, but because of the toxic atmosphere coming from all these people.

Then the Enchantress showed up. She had some Galadriel vibes, she was mesmerizing. It was my « oh, I guess it won't be so bad » moment, that's when I decided I would stop living in fear of every single scene. The Enchantress my dudes, the Enchantress was perfect. Something I loved in this version is that they covered every narrative error (there might be new ones but I didn't see them); the Prince hasn't been a Beast for 10 years so he wasn't 11 at the time but already a grown-ass bitch; the Enchantress erased everyone's memories of the castle and the people who lived in it, thus why no one ever looked for them. Also, every time a petal falls, the dishes lose a bit of their humanity (until they turn into litteral objects once the rose has died) and the castle crumbles a little. I think it makes the whole thing a bit more adult, it adds a dark side to an already quite gloomy story (when you think about it).

I loved the way Belle's song was filmed, the choregraphy was incredible, and my heart melted when Emma Watson sang the part about the book she's reading. Of course it's also the time we get introduced to Gaston. LeFou and Gaston's dynamic is amazing, they're both far more fabulous in the live-action. Their dialogues never failed to make me laugh, and a few scenes with Maurice were just perfect.

Since I'm talking about Maurice, another moment created for this film was a short song sang by him once Belle comes back home, and I loved it. Maurice has a real personnality here, you get attached to him quite quickly, Kevin Kline did a wonderful job. You learn a lot of things about Belle's mother. Every single character has a real backstory here and it was interesting to discover all these new things (even the Enchantress is a more or less regular character). Even Philippe is still a mighty hero.

The first time Belle and Beast meet was great, they changed it a bit because her father doesn't want to leave so she throws him out of his cell and locks herself in it. Also it's Lumière who opens the door to show Belle her new room, so it clearly shows than the Beast does not give a single fuck about Belle at the time when he was a bit more polite in the animated.

Once we go back to the village, it is of course, time for Gaston's song, and it's beautiful, though less exaggerated as could be anticipated (animation has no limits right). LeFou steals the show here (and he's totally gay for Gaston). There's an instrumental part in the song where everyone is dancing on the tables and all and it was so cool you guys. I was waiting for this scene to come and I was not disappointed.

I didn't rly mention Lumière & Co before please forgive me; Ewan McGregor's completely failed French accent is the best thing I've ever heard, everyone is perfect in their roles but what can I say Lumière has always been my fave. The design of everyone in the castle in so on point my dudes ! I gotta say I have a bit of a problem with the permanent duck-face of the Beast but hey they did their best (plus you only notice it when he's not moving and the camera is focused on his face).

But now my dear friends, now is the time to talk about the very best thing in this film. The song we all waited for (nO I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT EVERMORE YOU LITTLE SHITS), the song that made me wish I could visit that bloody castle when I was a kid..

Be. Our. Guest.

You guys. Fellow bros. You all need to see and listen to Be Our Guest. It's perfect, it's a magical experience, Ewan McGregor is wonderful, the choregraphy is so mind-blowing the special effects team probably had a few nervous breakdowns while doing Be Our Guest and it was worth all the struggle. IT WAS SO FUCKING GORGEOUS ALL THESE COLOURS *coughs* srsly watch this film in IMAX if you can. I couldn't stop smiling during the whole scene (also I cried a little because I loved it so much but shhhh). There are no words to truly express how I felt during that moment, I wanted to sing along and annoy everyone in the cinema but I didn't 'cause I'm a nice person. It was flawless.

The way the Beast and Belle slowly discover each other is still lovely af, especially when he shows her the library (in a different way than he does in the animated and I gotta say I prefer this version, it was funnier but still in character). They spend a lot of time together reading lots of books and you can feel time passing by where it could seem like the story took 3 days to happen in the animated (and thus giving assholes a reason to shout WOW STOCKHOLM SYNDROME WOW WOW)

And while we see a romance blossoming we can also observe Gaston revealing his rotten core, his charming mask falling to show us what a monster he is. Luke Evans is absolutely terrifying in this film. He just seems kinda dumb at the beginning but then LeFou fails to calm him and the real beast of the film is released. We see it when Gaston tries to kill Maurice by leaving him unconscious in the woods after failing to find the castle, but in the Mob Song it's truly terrifying. I've read a few reviews and everyone agrees that the Mob Song in the live-action is far, far better than the animated one. The only complain I have is that the camera doesn't focuse on Gaston during the whole thing, and it's not a very important detail so yeah, the Mob Song slays (also Luke Evans sings divinely and LeFou has a great line in the song you need to listen to it just for that tbh).

(if you've seen the film you'll notice I didn't talk about Evermore because I hate that song even if the idea of the Beast climbing his castle to see Belle leaving breaks my heart, I think it was ridiculous. Sorry guys)

OH ALSO I FORGOT but there's a new song taking place after Belle enters her room for the first time, and everybody sings in it, it's kind of a different version of Human Again but better in my opinion. It's so lovely, the lyrics are simply beautiful.

aNYWAY this is getting quite long so I'll try to make it quick. The battle between Lumière & Co and the villagers is really cool, it's also the moment Gaston betrays LeFou so he decides to join the good guys, because LeFou actually is a nice person.

I'm kinda disappointed Gaston's hair isn't loose when he fights the Beast in this version because I just really love long hair and it made him look even more insane. He also uses a gun instead of a knife and shoots the Beast four times if I recall well. His eyes are cold af while he does it but I think killing someone with a knife is more personal and shows more hatred than using a gun, so I was a tiny bit « meh » during that part, but it was still breath-taking. Gaston telling the Beast he's there to kill him because Belle sent him, then the last spark of hope leaving the Beast's eyes THEN BELLE SHOWS UP AND GASTON GETS FUCKING REKT BY THIS GIGANTIC ANGRY LION anyway it was great I just like to rant about details no one else notices.

But then !! shit happens !!! the Beast dies before Belle tells him she loves him, the last petal falls, Lumière & Co turn into objects, despair and sorrow is everywhere, tHE CURSE IS NOT BROKEN BUT DO NOT FEAR MY DUDES THE ENCHANTRESS ENTERED THE CASTLE WITH ALL THE OTHER VILLAGERS AND SHE SAW THAT BELLE LOVED HIM SO SHE BREAKS THE CURSE HE COMES BACK TO LIFE AND HE TRANSFORMS

THE RIDICULOUS FIREWORKS ARE NOT THERE IN THE LIVE-ACTION

DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I WAITED FOR THOSE SILLY THINGS TO GO AWAY ???

HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW LONG I WAITED ?

TWELVE YEARS

IN AZKA- wait a second

anyway

I absolutely loved the transformation, the music was beautiful and there was a golden mist and petals around the Beast it was so, so perfect. THEN BELLE SEES HIS EYES AND SHE'S LIKE « IT IS YOU » AND I'M LIKE YES IT'S HIM YOU FUCKING IDIOT DIDN'T YOU SEE HIS PORTRAIT IN THE FORBIDDEN WEST WING THAT DOESN'T EXIST okay no I didn't think that but I could have

Then everyone becomes human again and we see Cogsworth trying to run away from his newly-returned wife, Lumière and Plumette discreetly leaving because they're horny af, Mrs Potts hugging Chip and everyone's happy and Gaston's corpse is rotting somewhere and LeFou has a new boyfriend and people sing and everything's fine now, and I'm so happy I saw this film in IMAX it was absolutely worth it and you should all give it a try even if you're an annoying purist motherfucker like me (jfc this is a very long review I'm so sorry).

[comebeforegod]

Love Arranged by God Is Truly Perfect

By Xiaoyu

Yun, an ordinary country girl, had average looks and lived an inconspicuous life. However, unlike most people, she was a perfectionist since childhood. In study, work, association with others, and demands on herself, she always pursued perfection.

And so did she in her marriage. She imagined owning the love described in Qiongyao’s novels, so she was unwilling to follow parents’ arrangement like her peers, but instead wanted to have a perfect romance. Every time when she thought of her future Prince Charming, her heart would be filled with anticipation.

Since Yun was a perfectionist, she stood out in every work she did, which attracted many suitors. But she didn’t pay them any mind. Until one day, when Ming, her long-lost classmate in middle school, came to work in her company, Yun began to have feelings for him, for she had been impressed with him in junior school. But during that period she was too young to understand love. Now Ming already turned into a real handsome man, which allowed Yun to fall in love with him immediately. Meanwhile, due to Yun’s outstanding performance in the company, Ming began to pursue her. Then they fell in love.

It is often said every person is thoughtless when he is in love. Yun was no exception. She believed in every word Ming said. One time her best friend Juan told her that Ming was dating a girl of a big fortune once and that it was uncertain whether they had broken up. Juan also told Yun to beware of Ming. However, bewitched by Ming’s sweet words, Yun believed he was serious about her and she even put their wage cards together. Ming just came to work in the company and didn’t have many performance figures, and his daily expenses were all supported by Yun. Therefore, he was very obedient to Yun. For the sake of gaining footing in the company quickly, Ming always asked Yun to bring him to see their boss to get a closer relationship with the boss. For their promotion, Yun bustled about tirelessly.

Just when Yun was immersed in love, a sudden change of her company—the discontinuance of the business—overturned her life. And at that moment, Ming’s father, a village secretary, fixed Ming up with a good job in a public institution at their hometown. Before Ming left, Yun bought him a suit and gave him the last 700 yuan she had and a new-bought mobile phone (At that time, mobile phone first became popular), thinking that he need to be decent when facing new colleagues and leaders.

Later, the company went into bankruptcy. Yun also came back and told Ming to pick her up at the station. Yun had thought Ming would be very happy when seeing her; however, he was very calm and expressionless. When Yun asked Ming to go to visit her parents, he put her off hesitatingly. Yun felt something wrong, but she immediately denied her thoughts, thinking she loved him so much that he couldn’t betray her and maybe he just had some difficulties.

Several days had passed since Yun came back, but Ming had no contact with her. Yun felt something must have gone wrong. One day, Yun went to see Juan, a friend they both knew. Seeing Yun so helpless, Juan asked, “What’s your relationship with Ming?” Yun said, “He may be busy with his work these days. We haven’t been in touch.” Juan said, “Yun, don’t be silly! I went to Ming’s with my friends before you came back. His parents told us he was getting married to another girl. We also saw many photos of them at his house. Break up with him! I felt it right from the start that he had designs on you. Since you had good performance in the company, he wanted to use you to achieve his desires. He is not a reliable person and not worthy of your love.”

Yun didn’t know how she went back home that day. She was disintegrating for she never expected her first love would end up in this way. She was not resigned to the result and her love toward Ming turned to hate. She wanted to bring back the things belonging to her, so she went settle things with Ming; however, to her surprise, Ming was completely out of character, saying, “I don’t owe you anything.” Yun was at a loss for words. Later, Yun’s friend told her that Ming, such a mean person, wasn’t worth her tears. And she also advised Yun against having anything to do with him so that he would carry his guilt throughout his life. Thus, Yun broke it off with Ming. For that period of time after they departed, Yun’s life was in the grays and she always sang a song, the lyrics of which were “Love story is so perfect, but devastates me today….”

Later, through a matchmaker, Yun married Shuai, an honest and upright boy from the neighboring village. At that time Yun had lost hope in life and thought whomever she married, she would live muddling along. However, she never knew Shuai was very kind-hearted. Even though Yun was a most insistent person, he tolerated all her failings and never annoyed her for he thought Yun was perfect, which moved Yun so much. Yun began to open herself up to Shuai and they lived a peaceful and happy life. Now they had two daughters and the four of them lived happily together. Yun knew this was the real life.

Afterward, Yun learned from a friend that Ming was trying every possible means to ask for her contact details. But their classmates all told him that Yun was living a happy life now and that fortunately she didn’t marry him at that time. Though her friend said that Ming was constantly feeling he owed her too much, in Yun’s heart, it was water under the bridge and she thanked Ming for giving her such a vivid lesson. Her hatred had vanished long ago, for hatred came from love but she already had no love for him. She thanked God for bestowing Shuai upon her. She felt very satisfied.

Afterward, she saw God’s words saying, “One encounters many people in one’s life, but no one knows who will become one’s partner in marriage. Though everyone has their own ideas and personal stances on the subject of marriage, no one can foresee who will finally become their true other half, and one’s own notions count for little. After meeting a person you like, you can pursue that person; but whether he or she is interested in you, whether he or she is able to become your partner, is not yours to decide. The object of your affections is not necessarily the person with whom you will be able to share your life; and meanwhile someone you never expected quietly enters your life and becomes your partner, becomes the most important element in your fate, your other half, to whom your fate is inextricably bound. And so, though there are millions of marriages in the world, every one is different: How many marriages are unsatisfactory, how many are happy; how many span East and West, how many North and South; how many are perfect matches, how many are of equal rank; how many are happy and harmonious, how many painful and sorrowful; how many are the envy of others, how many are misunderstood and frowned upon; how many are full of joy, how many are awash of tears and cause despair….” (“God Himself, the Unique III”).

“I am well acquainted with the thoughts of man’s mind and the wishes of man’s heart: Who has never looked for a way out for themselves? Who has never thought of their own prospects? Yet even though man is possessed of a rich and prismatic intellect, who was able to predict that, following the ages, the present would turn out as it has? Is this really the fruit of your own subjective efforts? Is this the payment for your tireless industry? Is this the beautiful tableau envisaged by your mind? If I did not guide all mankind, who would be able to separate themselves from My arrangements and find another way out? Is it the thoughts and wishes of man that have brought him to today? Many people go their whole lives without having their wishes fulfilled. Is this really because of a fault in their thinking? Many people’s lives are filled with unexpected happiness and satisfaction. Is this really because they expect too little? Who of the whole of mankind is not cared for in the eyes of the Almighty? Who does not live in the midst of the Almighty’s predestination? Whose birth and death come from their own choices? Does man control his own fate?” (“The Eleventh Utterance” of God’s Utterances to the Entire Universe).

Yun sighed: Man can’t control his own fate. Marriage is not decided by man himself but depends on the predestination of the Creator. Only when one submits to the Creator’s arrangements, can he obtain the true perfection.

Just as God says, “Wherever one is, whatever one’s job is, one’s means of living and the pursuit of one’s goals bring one nothing but endless heartbreak and irrelievable suffering, such that one cannot bear to look back. Only when one accepts the Creator’s sovereignty, submits to His orchestrations and arrangements, and seeks true human life, will one gradually break free from all heartbreak and suffering, shake off all the emptiness of life” (“God Himself, the Unique III”). From God’s words, Yun understood the reason why she experienced so many misfortunes and pains was that she didn’t have the knowledge of the Creator’s sovereignty and predestination. She always wanted to seek a perfect life according to her own imaginations, only to get the reverse result. Now Yun finally understood that only when she submitted to God’s orchestrations and arrangements, would she break free from the suffering.

Yun felt thankful that she had found the source of perfection—the Creator.