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houseofripley · 1 month

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HII

Could you write a rhea x fem!reader where they are at a scare house with a bunch of friends and reader is a big scaredy-cat and clings onto rhea the whole time and all of them end up in a maze but rhea and reader get lost and separated from the group and reader is terrified so rhea tried to cheer her up with some make-out time and hugging and reassurance(maybe some smut there or when they get back home🤷‍♀️)

Scared?

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, Publix Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Mommy Kink

WORD COUNT: 1,613

A/N: I AM ALIVE SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING!!!! im on spring back so hopefully i'll actually have some freetime now

“No wait, I don’t think I can do it,” you jittered, your anxieties shaking through your body as you stood next in line to enter a dingy barn that was quite literally in the middle of nowhere.

After weeks of begging your partner Rhea to be the hugh hefner to your playboy bunny she agreed under one condition; that you’d go to the scare attraction she had been talking about non-stop. At first you were ready to scrap your matching costume idea altogether but after some reassurance from Rhea that your friends would be there you reluctantly agreed.

“You are not backing out on us now!” Your friends started throwing playful teases at you.

“Don’t be a wimp, it won’t even be that bad,”

Rhea wrapped her arm around your waist as she added to the taunts, “My little scaredy-cat,”

“I am not a scaredy-cat! I just don’t like having clowns chase me with machetes,” you attempted to defend yourself.

“That’s totally something a scaredy-cat would say,”

The attendant at the entrance signaled for your group to enter the building. You let a few of your friends enter before hesitantly entering, making sure you were in the middle of the group. Stepping inside a thick layer of faux fog clouded your vision while strobe lights beamed through the hazed air. “I wanna go home,” you raised your voice so your group could hear you over the loud ambiance and scream of others further down the path.

You braced your hands in front of you in self-defense as you made your way through a flashing corridor. Rounding the corner you were immediately jumpscared by a bloodied woman hopping through a curtain, making you back up into Rhea as you let out a scream.

Rhea let out a laugh as one of her hands took grip of your waist, giving the skin a light squeeze. “I got you,” Rhea chuckled as she spoke just loud enough for you to hear her.

Your group of friends continued through the scenes of the attraction with plenty of jumpscares and many more screams before eventually being chased out of the building into the second half of the attraction, a haunted corn maze.

You hesitantly followed your bunch of friends on the paths, your hand clinging to Rhea’s. It wasn’t long until your crowd was deep into the maze. By the time your eyes had hardly adjusted to the darkness you were soon caught off guard by a group of actors emerging from the corn stalks, causing you to dart further into the field.

“Oh my god I can’t see anything,” you yelled, too focused on running away from the bloodied men, you and Rhea wound up split from your group getting lost along the trail.

It had been fifteen minutes since the two of you last saw your friends and ten minutes since a scare actor popped up, your nerves were growing by the second knowing it was only a matter of time before another actor would find you. The grip you had on Rhea’s hand had to have been cutting off her circulation at that point.

“Look at me, pretty girl,” Rhea spoke, her tone of voice was soft, “you’ll always be safe with me, you know that I’d never let anyone touch you,” she assured. You couldn’t help but look up at her with a soft smile, her reassurance sending ease to your foggy mind.

Rhea’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug before she dropped her lips against yours. You melted into her embrace as you squeezed your hands around her stiffened biceps.

“As much as I’d love to kiss you forever, I’d love to get out of this damn maze as soon as possible,” you giggled, pulling back from her lips after a moment before continuing your way through the trails.

“We’re never making it out of here alive,” you pouted, throwing your head back realizing you were caught in yet another dead end. You were caught off guard by the feeling of a set of hands grabbing you from behind and pulling you back against their body, causing a shriek to leave your mouth..

“You’re so sexy when you’re scared, all tensed up,” Rhea quietly chuckled into your ear. “plus that little outfit making you all vulnerable isn’t helping your case,” she added, her teeth nipping at your earlobe while her arms pulling your back further against her chest.

“Not funny Rhe’,” you whined. Although your body relaxed knowing you were in the safety of Rhea’s arms, your heartbeat was still stuck in your throat, the thrill of Rhea’s sudden instigating had already begun forming a puddle in between your legs.

Rhea let out a breathy chuckle as she placed a kiss below your ear, “did you really think I’d be able to control myself when you look like that?” she murmured, her hands trailed to the bust of your strapless bodysuit.

“Mm- no but I assumed you’d have enough self control to wait till we got home,” your giggle soon turned into a quiet gasp as Rhea quickly flipped the bust of your outfit down, revealing your chest to the brisk air. Her hands glided to cup your breasts as her lips connected to the crook of your neck. Her fingers took hold of your nipple, rolling the flesh between her digits causing a hitched curse to leave your mouth.

Rhea soon guided your body face hers, a satisfied smirk painted across her lips as she bent down and took your nipple into her mouth. Her knee found itself separating your legs causing a whimper to escape your mouth as her knee pushed up against your needy heat.

“Rhe’, we might get caught,” you whispered, your hands reaching to grab Rhea’s face, a grin creeping onto her lips as you pulled her face up to yours.

“Oh baby,” Rhea murmured, trailing her hand down the length of your bodysuit, “that’s the fun part,” she added before quickly yanking the fabric covering your core to the side. You sucked in a harsh breath, a shiver running through your body as the bitter autumn air hit your slicked heat.

“No panties? Naughty girl,” Rhea clicked her tongue as her finger slipped across your wetness, gathering your juices on her finger, “look at you, all soaked for Mami,” she hummed before taking her finger into her mouth, sucking your juices from her skin.

Rhea brought herself to her knees before you, her cobalt eyes twinkling in the moonlight as they trailed up your body, silently asking for permission. Although a quickie in a corn maze was definitely not in your Halloween plans, Rhea's mouth was nearly always impossible to resist. Once you nodded your head in approval she began peppering soft kisses to your inner thighs, leaving you whining at the sensation of her warm lips against your chilled flesh.

“Such a brave girl for me,” Rhea quietly praised, tossing one of your legs onto her shoulder, “I think you deserve a treat,” locking eyes with you she flattened her tongue against your cunt. She licked a wide stripe up your wetness, humming at the taste of your arousal. Your hand found itself tangled in her hair, pulling at the jet-black strands as her pierced tongue began rounding your clit.

You chewed at the insides of your cheeks, hoping to stifle your whines when Rhea’s tongue sank into your heat. Quiet hums of approval escaped from Rhea as her tongue prodded with your entrance, her nose pressed against your clit.

Rhea’s mouth returned to lapping circles around your bundle of nerves while her pointer finger snuck into your hole. Your abdomen tensed in reaction to her finger rhythmically pumping into your tightness. Faint whines echoed from the back of your throat as Rhea’s tongue worked alongside her finger that toyed with your aching core.

It wasn’t long until a second finger dipped inside of you, resulting in a whined “Fuck,” to escape your throat. Rhea’s tongue stayed focused on tracing shapes over your clit, her eyes still gazing up at you, clearly enjoying the sight of you losing control over her touch.

The adrenaline of knowing there was a possibility of someone rounding the corner and catching the two of you only fueled Rhea’s gestures. Your eyelids squeezed shut at the sensation of her fastened pace,

“Mami,” you threw your free hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your moans, “oh- fuck Mami,” you whimpered, bucking your hips against Rhea’s face, your climax rapidly approaching.

The curling of Rhea’s digits as they pumped into you initiated your orgasm. Muffled moans left your mouth as your climax washed over you, releasing all the tension that sat inside your stomach onto Rhea’s fingers.

Rhea assisted you in riding out your peak before retracing her fingers from your insides. She brought herself back to her feet, licking her fingers clean, the remnants of your slick coating her chin. “Better than any Halloween candy I’ve had,” she praised under her breath.

“How sweet, but please get me out of here,” you giggled out of breath, playfully rolling your eyes as you adjusted your costume.

You hopped onto Rhea’s back after gladly accepting a piggyback ride from her. Rhea successfully guided the both of you through the rest of the maze, thankfully making it out with minimal scares.

“Jesus, what took you guys so long?” a friend questioned as Rhea carried you to your group of friends who were sat at a bench waiting for the pair of you to show up.

“It's a maze! We got lost!” you threw your hands up in self defense.

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley fanfiction #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley smut #wwe smut #wwe x reader #rhea ripley x you #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea

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spaceorphan18 · 1 year

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If you had the power to change the episodes after 6.08 what would you change? Isn't it strange Kurt and Blaine had no bigger plot, separately or individually, for several episodes? What do you think about their plots after they got married?

Oohh, this is a great question, Nonny!

So - I do see what they were doing, structurally, with the season. I can see the white board, and I can see how they got to episode 8 and had it be the climax of the Klaine and Brittana stories. And then I see that they had the last two episodes of the season be the finale, the one before that be the Sectionals competition, and they had two extras - so they decided, hey let's give one to the new characters and one to Sue. And then were done with their plotting for the afternoon.

So, on paper, I totally see how and why Season 6 ended up the way it did. Am I disappointed that we didn't get to see more of Kurt and Blaine interact at the end of the season? Yes, sure - I always want more. Am I surprised? In retrospect, not really.

There are a couple of layers to all of this though...

For one, the writers have had very poor follow up when it comes to their (Kurt and Blaine's) big moments on the show. After they get together in Original Song - they don't really have a conversation in a following episode reflecting on being boyfriends. The first time its dropped that they are boyfriends is in Rumours when Blaine isn't even around. And I'd argue that the following romantic moments in Born This Way, Prom Queen and New York are wrapping up Kurt's individual arc more than Kurt and Blaine as a couple.

The there's The First Time. Do they get to discuss what it was like for them after they've had sex for the first time? Nope. We get a deleted scene in the Christmas episode acknowledging that it happened, but no development for them, really, until Dance With Somebody.

And then there's Love Love Love - where they get engaged. And then.... nothing until we get into their couple dynamic in the NYC arc.

Really, the break up arcs are the most compelling because it lets both characters have reactions to what happened, have have character development spring out of it.

Coming back around to Season 6 - so, on that level, I'm not surprised the writers didn't really have them acknowledge that they're married.

Also - like Brittana, Kurt and Blaine don't have any individual story lines in Season 6. Their story is as a couple, and once they get married - their story is, effectively, done. But unlike Brittana - they're main characters on the show, and have to at least be in the background as the rest of the show wraps up. I do understand that they wanted to focus more on finishing Rachel's story line as well as getting the New Directions settled, because those are the two main plot lines of Season 6.

Did the newbies and Sue really need focused episodes? I don't necessarily think so (especially Sue) but the writers felt differently about the characters.

We do get a wrap up (and some what satisfyingly, even if it's scarce) to their story in the finale.

But yes - I do wish that we had gotten more for them in those final episodes. I'm glad that we got a few scraps - Kurt happy about his decision, Blaine going to NYC, but they don't have a single conversation from 6.8 to 6.13, and that's unfortunate.

But I always wish for more of their story.

Honestly, though, I'm not sure I'd add a whole lot more to what we have, if I want to keep the integrity of what the show was trying to do with them. I'd have liked the wedding episode to have been expanded - so they could touch just a little more on how moving forward they won't make the same mistakes as before. And I'd have liked a scene or two with just them -- getting to reflect on being married and what their plans are for the future. So, really, it's just a few more scenes in general that I'd want.

But I mean, in the long run of things - I think Klaine got lucky. What are Brittany and Santana doing with the rest of their lives? Where are they living? I'm sure not many people care - but are Puck and Quinn still together? How is Mike doing? Even Mercedes, Sam, Tina, and Artie - while having nods to their futures in the finale, don't have much closure either.

Glee always loved big moments and big things, but didn't do the details all that well. And at the end of the day - I always want more detail.

#that's how s.o. sees it #hopefully all that makes sense #great question - thanks for asking!#i forgot to expand on kurt and blaine as individual arcs - oops #maybe in another post

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safyresky · 10 months

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Crystal Springs Chapter 11: now on ao3!

Give it a read HERE!

Chapter 11: Ready or Not

Jacqueline's letter reaches home, making for some hard-hitting discussions for Mr. and Mrs. Frost. While waiting for their reply, Jacqueline sets her sights on convincing Jack that going home is the right move.

I may play with the summary a bit, but I think this about does it for now! Very exciting to finally have CS up to this point on ao3! The Frosts, my beloved blorbos 🥰🥰🥰

Here's a little excerpt for you all of my absolute favourite part (and probably one of my favourite blinter moments tbh):

Winter cupped her mug, gently hopping down from the desk and stopping in front of Blaise by the fireplace. "It doesn't necessarily mean you're still mad. The Jack look, that is," she said, taking another sip. She frowned, her lips a line of distaste. Blaise smiled, grabbed the mug and held it, only pressing it back into her cold hands when steam once again wafted off the top of the drink. Winter brightened, taking a much happier, warmer sip. "It's just a look you get when you think or talk about Jack," she said. Blaise frowned, resuming his pacing once more. "Even so, I'm still not sure where I stand! And do you know what's even worse?" he said, turning by the desk, hands once again up in the air. "What?" Winter asked, taking another sip. "I realized that I hadn't even asked you how you felt about all this last year!" he said, gesturing towards Winter with both of his open hands. "Let alone today!" he added, as his pacing led him back to the fireplace. “Oh Blaise,” Winter said fondly, placing her mug down on the mantle. Before Blaise had a chance to start pacing again, she grabbed his lapels and turned him around so he was facing her. “You’re always thinking of everyone but yourself,” she began, thumbs rubbing his collarbone gently. “Calm down, dear. It’s going to be okay,” she said with a soft smile. “I should be telling you that,” he said, lightly caressing her cheek. "You can do that in a moment, Blaise dear. I feel the same way, after all." "You do?" Blaise asked, surprised. "But you've been taking this all so well." "That's because the smaller picture isn't as complicated as you're making it out to be." "The smaller picture?" Blaise asked, head still bowed forward towards Winter, who had an iron clad grip on his lapels. Not that he minded, of course. "Yes dear, the smaller picture. You see," she said, with the slightest lift and slide of her right foot going completely unnoticed by him. "You're focusing on the bigger picture." A wind stirred in the office, blowing into their sides from her right. "Which is fair, but what we need to look at first," There was a thunk, and a long scrapping sound that was shortly muffled by the thick rug beneath their feet in front of the fireplace. "Is the smaller picture." Blaise felt the heavy wood of his chair knock into the backs of his knees mere milliseconds before Winter shoved him right down into the seat, her palms now flat on his chest. "Which is this," Winter finished, a cold gust blowing the worn paper right between them. She caught it between her index finger and middle finger with a completely unnecessary flourish. Blaise grinned, looking at his wife with a mix of pride and cockiness. "See, now that is the look look," Winter teased.

I was so torn between THAT scene, and one with Jack and Jacqueline being like YOU WANT TO DO WHAT NOW?! But this is still one of my top 5 favourite scenes in CS (if not the favourite), so it won out after a power nap lol.

Anyway! Enjoy! And of course:

You can start Crystal Springs from the top HERE on ao3, and HERE on ff.net! Story summary below the cut:

It’s been almost a year since Jack Frost thawed and things are looking…well, not so great. Jack’s powers are seemingly gone. Without them, the Dome that keeps the North Pole safe from the cold and its magic controlled is melting, putting everything and everyone magical at risk.

Unable to hide his power shortage any longer, Jack is forced to admit the truth. Thankfully, there is a solution: enacting the Legate Law, bringing Jack and the sister that he hurt so many centuries ago back together again. But when Jacqueline starts experiencing destructive blackouts, the pair are forced to head back home to Crystal Springs, bringing Jack face to face with the rest of the family.

Needless to say, between getting his powers back, helping his sister figure out what in the FROST those blackouts even were, reconciling with his parents, meeting the two even younger siblings he didn’t even KNOW he had, NOT TO MENTION the ancient threat that’s had it out for the ENTIRE Frost family finally making a move?

Saving Christmas (regrettably) is looking to be a little bit…complicated.

#the santa clause #the santa clause 3 #crystal springs #cs updates #cs on ao3 #fanfiction #ocs #jack frost #tsc jack frost #text #AND I ON THAT NOTE! WE ARE CAUGHT UP ON AO3 UPDATES FOR CS 🥳🥳#I have to double check when I originally posted #and back date updates like that #to see if chp 12 was this week or next or the week after #but it is a RELIEF to be caught up bc chapter 25 is CALLING MEEEEEE #long post #maybe? idk man!

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soldmysoultootomeboys · 3 years

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Hi! Can I request headcannons for the human brothers accidently summoning an angel mc instead of a demon and the angel mc insisting on sticking around and helping them?

The other brothers: :) Satan: >:)

This has been in the drafts for too long. I really love the absolute mood switch between Lucifers and Mammons. And just Satans in general ig.

Lucifer

After years of religious trauma at the hands of his father Lucifer finally thought he was free of any connection to the church. Summoning a flaming seraphim at 3 in the morning was not a pleasant way to find out that he was wrong.

As for you, being summoned for the first time in your long long life was an unwelcome surprise. You were a seraphim for heaven's sake. The cream of the crop, highest of the high, and that wasn’t pride speaking only facts. You were crucial to running the celestial realm.

But somehow you’re undeniably tied to his human. You could feel where his soul became intermeshed with your very essence. How wrong it felt to be tied to something so mortal, and delicate, and free.

Any attempts to leave would surely be met with disaster.

So you stay. Lucifer is cold. You can’t blame him. Being there reopens old wounds that he’d rather have remained closed. But just ignoring each other isn’t going to work.

He’s not interested in the celestial realm, and despises any blessing you try and give him, but a fresh cup of coffee during an all-nighter seems to make him brighter than any magic you could do and when you run your hands through his hair he looks at you with more fondness than you can comprehend.

You learn to be more human. He learns to let go of the past.

And one day you find that you don’t want to leave anymore.

For celestial sake that thought should as well be treason! But it’s true.

It’s a spring afternoon and Lucifer plays celestial lullabies on his piano and you want nothing more than for the beautiful night to come so you can sweep him in your arms and remind him how he glows.

You don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore, but you know that this human is yours and you are his. To rip off your wings would be to find solace in his arms. But you can not give him that. This he knows.

So you promise to protect him, in words he can’t hear but he understands. The spread of your wings shield him from the world and you press blessings to his skin in the shape of the crescents in his back and your lips on his neck. If nothing else you’ll keep him safe. When the world seems too big and the stress of his life gets him down you’ll always be here for him to crawl back to. You can give him that much.

Mammon

That was it

You had to have been assigned the stupidest human in the world

When you were promoted to guardian angel you kinda thought it would be more ‘protecting orphans’ and ‘guiding lost puppies back home’ NOT watching a grown man spend his last paycheck on his eighth Nigerian prince scam

Seriously mammon? Did the prophetic dreams you sent mean nothing? The visions of the future he coincidentally had after hitting his head on a light post, only simple illusions? What more could you try beyond simply marching down their and clocking him on the head yourself?

...unless

Raphael would have your wings if you went to the human world. But that would be a lot less painful that having to watch whatever Mammon was going to do with all the rubber cement he just bought.

The next morning you decide to sneak down. The city was amazing, all colored light and fun machines that whizzed by you on the streets

But you had to stay focused

You were an angel on a mission

You made your way towards central park. Mammon went there every morning to swindle tourists out of their wallets. If you were fast you’d get there before the first patrol office started chasing him.

Spotting the albino you marched straight towards him, readied yourself, and smacked him over the head.

Maybe not very angel-like but it worked.

One introduction later and you're officially a guardian angel

Mammon’s actually pretty nice once you get to know him. Sure he may be a bit too obsessed with lining his pockets but for all his talk he never hesitates to try and help you out.

Consistent affection and care is good for him. He never really knows how to react when you wrap your wings around him but even with his tsundere objections it's obvious he’s pleased.

He’ll take whatever scraps of affection you’ll give him and practically beams at every little gesture you do, no matter how small or insignificant.

You do have to be careful though.

At his request you had attempted to bless him with a bit of luck. An easy enough spell for an angel like you (even if you were 90% sure he planned to go gambling after). Whatever scheming he’s doing immediately stops the moment you cup his face. He seems to freeze when you lean in, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek

You were about to congratulate yourself on a spell well done when you noticed the condition he was in. He was like a living statue, a statue with a very very red face

Before you can ask what was wrong he flails pushing you away and darting off to his room

Any attempts to speak to him the rest of the day were met with incoherent shouting.

It might be best to withhold any magic until you can figure out how humans work

Levi

Once again Levi’s dedication to anime gets him into trouble

It started with his most recent obsession, a new anime that follows a group of angels, produced by the famous company, Dove. The plot, the animation, the soundtrack, all of it was amazing so when they came out with a new limited edition item featuring the very symbol that the main character wore he just had to have it

The moment it came he was setting it up on its own altar, a handmade replica just like in the show only for- Oh no

Before his eyes burst a shining visage of light and then you

You blink in surprise, whether it's from taking a human form for the first time in decades or the strange new room you were in, only you know

The scene may be foreign but the guy quivering on the floor was not

BE NOT AFRAID

Your booming voice echoes around the room

For some reason the guy begins to freak out even more

Didn’t he see your halo? You even told him to not be afraid. Were humans really so strange? :(

Oh well. You hum making your aura as comforting as possible and slowly the guy calms down enough for you to coax him into a seat as you begin to explain.

Which might not have been the best move.

The moment it sunk in he was bombarding you with questions

Yes you were an angel, no you didn’t know what anime was, yes you had wings, no you didn’t have any secret ultimate moves...whatever those were

He ranted and raved over this and that and you let him. He seemed like he needed someone to talk to. It also let you piece together what had happened.

He seemed to be a natural sorcerer, and a powerful one at that if he could someone an angel with no training or even knowledge that he could do magic

Just a few minutes in his presence made his self loathing obvious. Mix in a bit of anxiety and envy and you essentially have Levi in a nutshell

So you decide to stay

What kind of angel would you be if you just left him here? Michael would understand.

Or he wouldn't, it didn’t really matter because you already made up your mind.

Living with Levi is an experience for both of you.

He introduces you to so many new things. He had little boxes that could control light and screens containing actual people to talk to. It was all quite fanciful

In return you act as his friend, encouraging him to go out with you and attending cons with him, even if you still weren't exactly sure what cosplaying is

Slowly he begins to open up for you

He’s still nervous to go out in public, and a complete introvert at heart.

But that was fine. You could both figure out this new world together, at your own pace

Satan

Definitely was not trying to summon a demon to lay havoc on his enemies

Nope, not him he says all while trying to casually kick away vials of mysterious fluids

...Right

You’ve been down to the human world enough to know a demon summoner when you see one

Or in this case a failed summoner

He has no excuse for why he called you and instead seems more insistent that you leave

As much as you you might like to return to the celestial realm, you cannot in good conscience leave a man that you know is going to try and raise hell on earth the moment your gone

So you stay, and it's a good thing you do

This man has anger issues like no other

You thought Raphael was bad this guy is like a demon himself

However he seems willing to try and make the best of what he considers a bad situation

He asks you a lot of questions on the celestial realm

For a guy who knows so much about the devildom he seems to really be lacking on any knowledge on the other celestial beings

He mostly asks you questions on the celestial war, which is a touchy topic at best and downright upsetting at worst

He’s very interested in your opinions as your point of view is very different from his own, what with being a different species and everything

You learn things too, mostly about humans and cats but you suppose its a fair trade

Because of this you become close friends

You really win him over when he finds out your calming aura naturally attracts the stray kittens Satan's been trying to pet for the last few months

It’s not uncommon to head out to late night coffee shops and discuss the merits of different aspects of your lives

But maybe you’ve gotten a bit to close when he starts asking you to revise his summoning notes

Asmo

Apparently a lifetime of partying has prepared Asmo for some very weird discoveries

When you're sent down to the human world you have one job, find and keep an eye on the potentially dangerous summoner who's been in contact with multiple high level demons in the past few days.

Instead you end up meeting Asmo

You were prepared for a fight, not to be tackled into a hug the moment you revealed yourself

Asmo on the other hand is squealing with excitement

Sweetie, he's been waiting for this moment! This is his first time meeting an angel after all

He immediately begins talking about everything he wants to do

You quickly find out that he hasn’t made any pacts...yet, if only because he “couldn’t bear to damage his skin with such an ugly mark”

...Well you suppose that's a reason to not sell your soul

Even thoughts he's aware of the three realms it doesn’t make him any less enamoured with you

He’s never met an angel, he’s quick to mention. He’d love to get to know you, if you get what he means ;)

Are all humans so upfront?

If you decline he still wants to see your true form, even after you explain that no, if you transform you will not just be a beautiful angel with wings but instead a glowing mass of eyes and feathers and angelic light that will probably end up blinding him

Blinded because of your beauty ;) ;) ;)

That said he’s easily satisfied when you just bring out your wings.

He loves fussing with them and decorates them with jewelry and roses whenever you leave them out

He even starts an angel trend on insta after posting a photo as if they were coming from his back instead

Claims your glowing aura is great for his skin

You’re not sure if that’s a pick up line or if he’s serious but he definitely basks in your presence

Loves when you talk about the celestial realm, somewhere he desperately wants to go

I mean it's the only place that's fit for a beauty like him right? But of course he can’t die yet, his fans would be sooo upset

You agree to bring him up there one day, even if that sounds a little morbid

Of course he asks you to become his guardian angel

That may not be your actual job but you can’t resist his puppy dog eyes

You and him go pretty much everywhere together, bar some more xxx rated sites

He introduces you to parties and bars, and while you don’t indulge it's enjoyable to see humans in their natural element. They’re so fun and free spirited just like Asmo

Maybe that's what attracted you to him in the first place

He loves life for what it is, something so admirably human

But you don’t slack off either. You take your role as Official Guardian Angel seriously. You guard his drinks when he goes to the bathroom, and hum celestial lullabies when he’s sad and escort him down dark alleys when walking home. He has nothing to fear with you around.

You’ve become very fond of this human. Perhaps you’ll stick around a bit longer than you planned

Beel

It’s rare to be assigned to a human so...mundane

But that’s exactly what Beel is. He goes to the gym in the mornings, works a nine to five, and comes back home to his dog

He even has a good relationship with this family, do you know how hard that is to find in this day and age???

The only thing even slightly abnormal about this guy is his appetite

He could put a gluttony demon to shame with the way he eats

But the point is you really can’t figure out why you’ve been assigned to him or how your supposed to guide him

Eat a little less? Stop stealing your brother's lunch?

It’s the first time in a long while you’ve been so stumped

So you do what any sane angel would, go down to the human world to meet him yourself

He’s a likeable guy and it’s easy to get close to him, more so do to your angelic status

Although it’s surprising how well he takes the whole angel revelation

To be honest your pretty sure he forgets most of the time

He tends to follow you around, especially at night when he insists on walking you to wherever you need to be. It’s sweet even though there's little that can really harm you in the human realm

You quickly realize that he’s the type to have nightmares, usually calling out for one of his brothers or his sister

It’s become habit to wake up and head to his room

Just being there seems to calm him down

The first time he wakes up when your doing this he ends up asking you to stay

Isn’t shy about sharing the bed either.

He’s easy going so goes along with whatever idea you have

Especially when he starts finding snacks in his bag, each one blessed for a good day or to stay full or whatever little thing you thought of that day

Belphegor

Humans can’t see angels. Not unless they want to be seen, you remind yourself for what must be the tenth time.

But you’re almost certain that guy is looking right at you.

Step to the left, his head follows

To the right, his eyes narrow looking at you like your some puzzle he just hasn’t figured out yet

…this was fine

You turn around pretending to just not see him in hope that he’ll get distracted by something else

...you glance back. Why was he still looking at you? What is with this creep?

Enough is enough.

You march over there ready to ask what his problem is. Instead he beats you to it.

Eh? You’re an angel right? He asks before you can say anything.

???? Shouldn’t he sound more shocked.

The guy just sleepily blinks. He doesn’t look like a sorcerer or a witch, in fact you can’t feel any magic from him at all.

You go to ask only to realize he’s sound asleep. It’s not like you could just leave him here. And at the same time a human who can just see angels is an oddity of itself.

You decide to hang around for a while. Belphegor doesn't mind. He only says something about it being "too troublesome to drive you off," and "you'd look like you'd just come back anyways"

Belphie sticks to you like glue, if glue was absolutely insufferable and seemed to enjoy annoying you at every possible moment

You would think this would be easy. I mean he sleeps all day and when he’s not sleeping he’s napping. Simple enough right? Wrong

When he was awake he was committed to pushing every single button you have

If it seemed like it might inconvenience or annoy you he was already doing it. Trying to smack your halo, pounce on you, or even jump off the roof just to see you scramble to catch him. He was like some terrible terrible cat

Luckily he was never energetic for long. When he wore himself out he’d retreat to the roof of his crappy one bedroom and wait for you to join him

He liked to look at the stars and he’d point them out to you. Orion, Polaris, Sirius, he would mutter, bringing you back to the days when Michael, who was once so fond of you, would sneak you down to the human world just to show you the stars and darkness the celestial realm could not offer

When he finally got tired you would take over reciting Celestial names and marking the sky with your finger just to show him where they’d be.

Those times were pleasant. Even if they were brief.

“I’m gonna jump.”

“Do it.”

“You’re an angel. Aren’t you supposed to stop me before I do something stupid?”

“You won't.”

“Aight. Bet.” Belphie pitches forward and you just manage to catch him by the leg before he falls off the roof.

Brat.

Always ruining a good moment.

You can’t even be mad. The moment you pull him up he’s already resting his fluffy head in your lap waiting for you to pet him.

He may be the most troublesome human in the entire three realms, but he’s your human

#obey me #obey me hc #angel au #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me shall we date #obey me au #angels #obey me angels

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something-fanfiction-ie · 4 years

Text

Page Numbers

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Detailed descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of rape and sexual assault, murder. Just getting into the angst guys...

A/N: So I decided after like two people responded (thank you guys) to split the second part into two because it was so ridiculously long. You guys don’t even want to know how much I had to cut off this to end this at a place I felt comfortable. Rest assured, you’ll probably get the next part tomorrow. Remember to like, comment, reblog, message me, send me asks, and just do anything to feed my constant need for praise and attention from strangers. As always, thank you so much! I love you all and I hope you enjoy!

___

[Part One]

“I can never figure out if I like local cases more because I get to sleep in my own bed every night we work the case, or if they make me more uncomfortable because they’re so close to home.”

Rossi glanced at Morgan, who cast his eyes to the review mirror as he spoke. Reid sat in the back, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips as he read something on his phone.

The youngest member of the BAU team had been uncharacteristically chipper over the last three weeks, constantly taking calls or responding to texts. Even when he started to ramble about something no one was really interested in listening to, the topics were about things that were of a happier nature. Things like a single grain of rice having five times more DNA than an entire human being has in their whole body, or that the term ‘nerd’ first showed up in print in the book, If I Ran the Zoo, by Dr. Seuss published in 1951.

He shoved the cell back into his pocket, looking up into Morgan’s eyes in the mirror. He knew that they knew that something was up, but he didn’t want to say anything until it got a little more serious. And it was rapidly going that way. Spencer had spent nearly every second of his free time with you, doing things like getting coffee or going back to the bookstore that just so happened to be forty minutes out of his way.

In fact, just last week you had come over to his house to have dinner and watch a movie. You begged him to watch The Princess Bride instead of some very obscure French movie that no normal person would actually own.

“I love all the new and intelligent things you show me, Spencer, but I want to show you a new and slightly less intelligent thing. Let me rub off on you for a change.”

You quoted the entire thing, your lips silently moving with every word spoken during the movie. Afterward, you confessed that you had read the book even more than you’d seen the movie and could probably quote it just as easily. He picked up a copy from the library this morning before coming into work. While he hadn’t had the chance to read it yet, or either of your own published works, he was determined to finish it before he saw you again.

It was only 493 pages, so it shouldn’t take him that long.

“What?” He blinked, his brows dipping dangerously close to those impossibly long lashes of his. Morgan looked back to the road, his own amusement twitching at his cheeks.

The car bumped over a dip in the road just before they pulled into the already packed driveway of the crime scene. Rossi shut the car off and Morgan pulled his sunglasses on before getting out of the car, but not without a teasing comment.

“Get your head in the game long enough to solve this case and you can go back to whatever has had your attention these last couple of weeks. Okay, kid?” The blush that colored his cheeks was the same shade as when he realized you were staring at him in awe that first time you met.

Inside, the mood of teasing and distractedness changed. Everyone focused while crime scene techs circled the room taking pictures and gathering every bit of tangible evidence they could possibly find.

The first victim, or by the looks of things, the last victim, was a male in his early to mid-forties. His salt and pepper hair was combed back and styled, his beard perfectly trimmed. Even in death his clothes were unrumpled, only the pool of blood-soaked into his khaki pants and maroon shirt ruined the look of an otherwise very put-together man.

He was slouched in a wooden chair pulled into the living room from the dining room table, his hands bound behind his back with three blue zip ties, his ankles bound to the legs of the chair exactly the same way.

“The victim is forty-four year old, Joseph Kyle. He’s a lawyer with Kyle & Anderson. Cause of death appears to be two gunshot wounds to the chest.”

The next victim was a woman. She wasn’t as put together as her husband, laying in a pool of her own blood on the kitchen floor. Bruises and cuts littered her arms and legs, massive handprints still marred the skin around her biceps. It went without asking that she had been sexually assaulted, her underwear hanging on the knob of a drawer and her skirt bunched around the top of her thighs.

“Synthia Kyle, forty. Stay at home mom. She was stabbed sixty-one times in the abdomen, chest, and thighs.”

The last three victims were children. Each in their own rooms, each tucked into bed and shot in the head execution-style. One look around the room and anyone would know that they were happy kids, smart and well-rounded, and loved.

“James, Massey, and Devan Kyle. Seventeen, fifteen, and ten. All shot in the head.”

For all the evidence that could be seen with their eyes; the brutal attack against the mother, the cold killing of the father, and the remorseful executions of the children, it shouldn’t have been so hard to form a profile.

“And where is the number?” Reid turned his whole body away from the little boy's room, the image of him lying in bed with his eyes closed and a bullet hole in his head was enough to turn the pits of his stomach against him.

The lead detective, a slight man with inky black curls and piercing blue eyes, led them into the dining room. The number ‘302’ was smeared across a painting hanging on the wall, the blood so thickly layered over the Botecelli copy that is dripped down and over the golden frame.

“At first glance, it would appear to be a family annihilator. His primary goal being the rape and torture of Synthia Kyle, and the rest of the family simply casualties of his rage, but just like the last three crimes, there is nothing even remotely similar in victimology or the killings.” Reid’s lips skewed to the side, crossing his arms and combing over every detail.

“Alison Crane was sexually assaulted as well.” Morgan offered the information up with skepticism, aware that, besides the numbers at every crime scene, it was the only thing that could be pulled from the two. Rossi shook his head, his eyes scanning the air as he thought.

“Alison Crane was kidnapped and beaten before she was found three days later on the Chesapeake Bay. Her wrists slashed. She was staged with remorse, a-a cloth laid over her eyes and her arms crossed over her chest. That couldn’t have been done by the same unsub.” Rossi looked over at Morgan because even still, they knew that it was the same guy because cut into the top of Alison’s arm had been the number nineteen.

It had taken Reid all of two seconds to realize they were page numbers when he’d seen the piece of paper that had been pinned to the second victim’s chest. Obviously torn from a book, the triangle scrap of paper had only had the number 85 printed on it.

And just as difficult as it had been to pin down a book during the Fisher King case, it felt as if it was ten thousand times harder to find the book being used now. All they had were page numbers and murders. They’d narrowed the list to crime novels, but there were still so many books on the list that even with Reid, it would take years to sift through them all.

Garcia has been sad to watch the young doctor leave her office in disappointment when she revealed her ability to narrow down books was still no good. Not that it was her fault since the lack of a central database for every book known to man, made it very frustrating for anyone that tried to narrow down a book based only on crime scenes. And this was still given the assumption that this book was actually published and not a story the unsub had written himself.

This would be the third homicide in this case, the first one done since the FBI had been asked to assist the DCPD. The crossing of victimology and the numbers on the victims had been enough for unit chief, Hugh Lowe to pick up his phone and request for the BAU to stop this man.

Other than the book revelation, and the geographical profile that Reid had come up with, there wasn’t much progress. It had only been two weeks since the death of the first victim and now their unsub’s body count had gone from two to seven.

A young woman kidnapped outside her dorm in Georgetown, held hostage, beaten, and raped for three days, then staged at the Chesapeake Bay with her wrists slashed and clean clothes on.

An older man was beaten in his home while his wife is away on business overseas, killed with a tire iron to the back of his head, stripped of his clothes, which sat folded beside his splayed out body, his ring finger cut off. His wedding ring had been on the clothes beside him but they couldn’t find the finger.

And now a family of five.

It was frustrating, to say the least, each agent so annoyed by the case that none of them spoke on the ride back to the BAU.

“So I don’t have the book, mon ami, but I do have a possible connection in victimology and a shortlist of possible suspects, or at the very least persons of interest,” Garcia said excitedly when all three glowering men came through the clear doors of the BAU. They each lifted their heads and eyebrows with piqued curiosity.

“My link is Georgetown. Alison was going there for a major in political science, Mr. Walters had been a chemistry teacher there before the death of his first wife ten years ago, and I just found out that our newest victims, Synthia and Joseph, met there in the spring of ‘88 as a senior and a freshman.” Garcia had to admit that their minds were quick to gather the information, turning it over in the cogs that constantly spin inside their brains, but her mind was faster.

“Did you-“

“Cross-reference Georgetown alumni with a list of crime novelists? And then cross-reference that list with people who lived in Spence’s comfort zone? ‘How did you know to do that Garcia?’ you may ask. Because I’m a genius. Quick, boys, follow me.” Her heels click in rapid succession as she leads the men into her office of computers, colorful do-dads, and pictures. When she takes a seat, Morgan leans directly over her shoulder, Reid standing just behind her, and Rossi stands just to the side of him.

The list that pops up is only four names, the tension that has been in all of their shoulders relaxes a little at the first stride in the case that they’ve made sense they started working it. Reid’s shoulders tense up again when he notices a familiar name that sits at the bottom of the list.

“This one, click on it.” He points to the line at the end and watches as Garcia moves her mouse over to the area he was pointing to and clicks to reveal a face he knows too well.

You smile back at him in your freshman year Georgetown photo, a set of bangs cut that you don’t have anymore. In the picture you seem impossibly young, your eyes full of excitement, although he knows that you aren’t that much younger than he is. Even still, for some reason, he half expects your smile to be missing teeth you seem so young.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), graduated from Georgetown in 2000 with a master's in criminology. She’s published two crime novels in the last two years. She doesn’t have too much of an eventful life; she isn’t married, has no children, pays all of her bills on time, has no detectable significant other. Mom is a detective with the Atlanta PD, Dad walked out before she was born, no siblings, nothing more than a couple speeding tickets against her.” Rossi pulls one of his hands from his folded arms, pointing at the picture with squinted eyes.

“I met her last year, very briefly, at a publishing party. We couldn’t have talked for more than ten seconds, but she seemed like a good kid. You think she’s our unsub?” Everyone looks to Reid, his expression is stone cold and unreadable.

Garcia almost wishes she hadn’t made the connection in the first place as she watches the muscle in his jaw tick, his eyes flying across the screen several times before he turned away from the group’s prying eyes. Nerves of a whole other kind had exploded inside him, forcing his hands to open and close like fluttering butterfly wings at his sides.

“I’m not sure. Just call her in for questioning.” He wants to say he doesn’t think it’s you, mostly because he doesn’t want it to be you. The thought that he could have invited a serial killer of this magnitude into his life, into the life of his team, it makes him even more nauseated than he had been earlier standing in the middle of a messy crime scene.

But when he runs to the library and finds both copies of your books, flipping to pages nineteen, eighty-five, and three hundred and two, he almost cries. On each page reads a word for word, detailed description of every murder that had happened in this case so far. The first girl even had the same name as the first victim.

By the time you make it to the BAU and you are escorted to the interrogation room, he’s read both books cover to cover. He keeps telling himself that there’s a chance you weren’t doing this, that you weren’t the killer, but it’s so hard to believe when you were the mind behind every murder.

As he looks at you from behind the one-way window pane, a mixture of anger and, strangely, hope has begun to swirl around his chest.

“You sure you don’t want to come in with me?” Prentiss says, looking back at the doctor as she reaches for the door. Spencer shakes his head, lips pursed and heart racing. He couldn’t go in their unbiased, willing to accept that you could be the unsub he’d been chasing for the last two weeks.

“Hi, I’m SSA Emily Prentiss with the BAU, nice to meet you, (Y/N).” She stretches her hand across the table and you return in kind, your shy smile stabbing into Reid’s heart like a knife.

“I’d like to say it is nice to meet you too, but I wish it were under other circumstances.” The chair across from you screeches on the floor as Emily pulls it out to sit in. She absentmindedly flicks her slick black hair over her shoulder before laying the files in front of her.

“Unfortunately, I’m always under circumstances like these, working at the BAU.”

“‘Bad guys don’t take days off,’ that’s what my mom used to say,” You glance at the file on the table, chewing the inside of your cheek like you were trying to keep yourself from saying anything more, “I was told I was needed to give my opinion on a case? Although, I’m not sure how I could be of much help. I just write.”

Spencer watches you push a piece of your hair behind your ear with a small chuckle, glancing at the window like you could see him behind it.

“You’re a published author of two books, not just any writer.” Prentiss is relaxed, letting the case file sit between you like a hook dangling between a fish and a fisherman. You keep looking down at it, curiosity eating away at your nerves the way it used to when your mother came home with a new case.

“Tell that to my mom, she’s still holding out on me joining law enforcement.” It’s a joke, but every profiler watching reads into it. It isn’t hard to fit it into a working profile, the unsub feels unappreciated in her skills as an author with the apparent disapproval her mother has over her career. To both appease her mother and stake her claim as a serious author, the unsub is killing the same way she’s written in her books.

“Why didn’t you? Join law enforcement, I mean. You’re obviously very intelligent, you had a masters from Georgetown at just seventeen, and you seem to have a pretty good grasp on the politics and procedures of law enforcement careers.” For just a moment, you consider the question and your answer to it, but Spencer can see the exact moment that it clicks in your mind on what exactly is going on.

Your entire body language changes; your shoulders curling in toward your body, the chewing of your cheek intensifying, your hands pulling back from their relaxed position on the table and tangling themselves into your lap.

“I’m not here as a possible expert witness, am I, Agent Prentiss?”

Emily responds by opening the file, at last, pushing the pictures of the crime scenes across the table for you to have a look at. Seven pictures splay out in front of you and it doesn’t take you long to register the familiarity behind them all. You have to swallow the bile in your mouth before you speak again.

“I’m a suspect.”

“You’re the only suspect.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spence reid #dr spence reid #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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milkcartonbastard · 5 years

Text

You, Me, (Eddie Get Your Foot Out Of My Face!) and Huckleberry Finn Makes Three

Fandom- IT

Pairing- Richie/Eddie.

Warnings- Language warning- mostly because of Richie and Eddie. Fluff to make up for the IT: Chapter Two trauma I'm facing. Long title, I know. The only spoiler is the hammock, honestly.

~~~

Ms. Jeffords. The most annoying teacher in school- so of course Richie had been placed in her AP English class for the year. Ms. Jeffords, who was a short and round woman with the face of a horse, was going out of her way to load the "smart kids" down with homework. Read four chapters of this! Write an essay about that! I want your testicles on my desk tied neatly in a bow by the end of the class! All Richie wanted to do was hang out with the Losers- not do homework in the corner like a nerd.

But Richie cared about his grades, sadly, because they were his only hope of getting out of Derry. He needed good grades for a scholarship, just like the rest of his friends (except for Stan and Bill, who were riding on their baseball skills as well as their grades.) So Richie had the Huckleberry Finn book he was supposed to read when he got to the clubhouse. Beverly, Stan, and Ben were sitting in the clubhouse with music playing softly throughout their luxurious hideout.

The seven of them had worked all summer following Ben's directions and aspirations for their underground hangout. It was deep enough that their heads didn't touch the ceiling, but most of the boys were getting taller and that wouldn't last much longer.

The clubhouse had been made into a second home for the seven of them. Small things from their homes- the only good parts, in some of their cases- had been brought down into the Barrens to be placed on the shelves and the small tables in the squared hole. There was a portable stereo that Richie had bought, containers of snacks had been brought by Eddie, Ben had brought music as well as a few rugs for the ground, Bev had decorated with scraps of wallpaper and blankets, Mike had brought cushy seats- even though some springs were protruding from the cotton, they had made do-, and Stan had brought books to add to the small spaces on the shelfs. The best part was the hammock that Bill had snagged from his attic.

They had placed the hammock between two of the sturdiest parts of the clubhouse, which was extremely sturdy minus the one pole towards the middle, and would take turns relaxing on it. Taking turns meant that Richie hogged it until Bev or Stan would come by and throw him out of it. Which was often.

None of them were swinging in the navy blue hammock, just sitting around and talking. Richie dropped his backpack on the ground after descending the ladder and shedding his jacket. It was always warming in here than outside, which was an amazing thing in the fall. They hadn't faced a winter yet, but Richie had a space heater he was going to bring- if they could figure out how to get electricity down there.

The moment he sat back in the hammock, he felt his shoulders untense. This was a safe place to him, one to all of them. Unless you were part of their inner circle, you wouldn't be able to find this place. It was just theirs. Not anyone else's. It was theirs and Richie could feel- as sappy and dumb as it was to say- that this is his home. Not with Maggie and Wentworth Tozier. But with his friends in a hole in the ground. As long as he was with them- he'd be happy.

"Richie Tozier? Reading a book? My, my, how Ms. Bitchfords had changed you." Bev teased, but she had her math book open and in her lap. Ben was behind her, scribbling something that looked like more building plans. Stan was working on a puzzle in the corner, a flashlight dangling from the ceiling above him.

"You could say I've changed her. After all, I did bend her over he-"

"Beep, beep, Richie." Stan said it softly and pressed one of the jagged edges together. It made a soft click noise and Richie fought off a smile. He grabbed at the flashlight above him and turned it on, angling it to hit the words on his book.

It was The Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn. It was a banned book at the school, but Ms. Jeffords had talked the School Board into letting them read it. It wasn't too interesting, but only because Richie hadn't bothered to open the book yet. He wasn't too interested in much besides comics, but he had been known to read the occasional book. Gone With The Wind? Classic. Pet Sematary? Legendary. Cat In The Hat? Iconic.

Richie had barely gotten through the first lines of chapter one when someone else began to descend down the ladder. For a split second- which was always a fear- he was worried that maybe Henry Bowers or one of his goons had found their hideout, but that fear was squashed when he saw the familiar red and white striped socks.

Eddie Kaspbrak descended the ladder's rungs. His red fanny pack was fastened around his waist like a shitty Lifeguard. The fist thing he did was sling down his backpack and toss the pack on top of it. His eyes fell on the occupied hammock and he frowned. Richie tried not to stare at him, but it just wasn't going his way. The door to the clubhouse let light in and it was pouring in around Eddie. His brown hair looked golden in the light and the freckles on his face looked like dirt. Richie bit the inside of his cheek. Dirt? Since when was dirt pretty?

"No! You were the last one to be in the hammock last night. I want a turn!" Eddie toed his shoes off and kicked them towards his backpack. Richie rolled his eyes at the childish look on his friend's face. He looked like a grouchy toddler- which was Eddie in a nutshell. A cute, annoying, adorable, toddler.

"I just got here! I'm too comfortable to move. Looks like you're out of luck, Eds." Richie made a dramatic scene of turning the page in his book. He hadn't finished reading the page yet, but nobody needed to know that. It was for dramatic effect, after all.

"I hate it when you call me Eds. Let me on!" Eddie was tugging Richie's leg. He was trying to move him as little as possible, which was always what happened, but Richie never said anything. He knew that if Eddie really wanted the hammock to himself, he would flip Richie out of it like Stan and Bev did. Instead, Eddie usually wanted to sit with Richie.

Richie didn't understand why he wanted to, but he didn't mind at all. In made Richie feel warm, physically and not. Eddie was like a human space heater, which was surprising since he only wore shorts and t-shirts.

Eddie picked up Richie's legs and crawled into the navy blue hammock. He got comfortable and let one of his legs stretch out towards the curly haired teen and the other folded up under Richie's knee. Richie rolled his eyes again, biting the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't smile and let Eddie know how much he enjoyed it. It might have been a trick of the light, but he thought that behind that annoyed expression on his friend's face, that one of his cheeks had a little indention now.

Bev swore and crumbled up the piece of scrap-paper she had been working on. She chucked it toward the small trash can in the corner. It sunk into the basket effortlessly. She always had good aim, especially when it came to throwing rocks. Richie looked away from the corner and focused back on his book. He gently and subtly switched back to the first page. He read almost half of a sentence before Eddie's socked foot smacked him face.

"I didn't know you knew how to read." Eddie's big toe poked into Richie's ear and he squirmed. He smacked Eddie's foot away from him with the hard-backed book. Eddie yelped and retracted his limb from Richie's immediate reach. Richie opened the book again and tried to read.

Eddie hadn't said anything or moved around for a few seconds and Richie peeked up at him. He was pouting, looking off to the side. The Losers were split up into different classes during the day, so breakfast, lunch, and after school was the only times they got to spend together. Eddie must have been bored, because he was wanting attention and Richie wasn't giving it to him. Richie thought for a second about how to provoke his friend into a fight before deciding on something.

"Don't be sad. Cause sad spelled backwards is 'das' and das not good." Richie pinched Eddie's leg that his own was propped on top of. Eddie's head snapped around to Richie's with a dumbfounded look on his face. He sputtered before moving his hands around.

"What the fuck did you just say, Trashmouth?"

"I said das not good." Richie enunciated and pinched Eddie again for emphasize. Eddie smacked his hand away from the skin on his leg.

"That's not even a real word!" Eddie exclaimed. Richie fought back his smile and instead went to pinch Eddie again. Eddie wiggled away from him, the hammock singing back and forth a little.

"Yes, it is!"

"Oh, yeah? Use it in a word then!" Eddie challenged. Richie felt a grin spread across his face and Eddie's smile dropped. He knew what was coming. After all, most of their arguments ended up with Richie joking about his mother.

"Das not what your mom sai-"

"Beep, beep, Richie!" Eddie had launched forward and tried to hit Richie in the face, but something had gone wrong. Their legs had tangled up together and Eddie began to fall over the edge. One of Richie's hands shot out to grab him and the other grabbed the side of the hammock. Within the next few seconds, Eddie was pulled back on, grabbing onto Richie and somehow still managing to fall sideways.

Nobody had been paying attention to the two until the posts holding up the wood above them creaked. Ben, Bev, and Stan looked up, hoping that the ceiling wasn't about to fall down onto them. It was not, thankfully. But the hammock was looking more like a cocoon now.

The two teens had managed to twist the hammock around so they were wrapped up in the middle and being held upside down. They were tightly bound up and the ropes at the ends of the contraption were twisted up thickly, suggesting they had done a 360 degree spin more than once.

"What the fuck! I can't- breathe-" Eddie's words were muffled by the fabric and the laughter barreling out of his friends.

"I think I got motion sick..." Richie's words were strained and Eddie audibly gasped.

"What?"

"I think I'm about to vomit!" Richie's voice cracked and the blanket started bubbling with Eddie's frantic movement.

"Don't you fucking dare! Richie, don't you fucking dare!" Eddie was screeching, making the hammock sway like crazy. Stan howled with laughter and Beverly was clutching her stomach. Ben was red in the face, slapping his thigh and trying to breath. Soon enough, Richie started making gagging noises and Eddie's warning screeches turned into ones of horror.

With an ungraceful few flips, the two boys were tossed out of the hammock and sprawled on the dirt floor. There was no vomit, just Richie with tears streaming down his face and his chest shaking with laughter. Eddie still looked horrified, but his cheeks were turning rosy and he was trying to suppress his own giggles. Soon enough, the five of them were all howling with laughter, crying, and clutching their stomachs.

Eddie was smacking Richie gently, his laughter weakening his blows. Richie was trying to pinch Stan now, but he couldn't extend his arms without his stomach hurting from the laughter. They all calmed down soon though, and the hammock was once again underneath Richie. It wiggled a bit easier now, which was something Ben would have to fix.

A sobered up Eddie crawled onto Richie, this time his back was resting against the taller one's chest. Eddie's hips were resting the split of Richie's legs, their feet tangled together. If any of the other Losers noticed- they did, but they didn't mind either- they didn't comment. Eddie held the Huckleberry Finn book up and Richie cracked it open again.

"What's it about?" Eddie asked. Richie shrugged and found his place on the first page. He was one the second sentence, but he didn't remember what he'd read so far. His eyes flickered to the start of the paragraph, his brain trying to ignore the perfect way that Eddie's body fit with his. His chest felt like it would explode painfully any second, but that had nothing to do with Eddie's weight.

Richie rested his chin on top of Eddie's hair. Eddie's hand wormed around the book and found one of Richie's hands that were propping it up. This was something that had been happening recently- it had really been happening forever but the two of them were just beginning to notice how the felt about it- and would send jolts of electricity pulsing through Richie's veins. Eddie's fingers rested over Richie's, not quite holding hands, but close enough to make their hearts skip beats.

"How bout I just read it to you? Since you obviously won't let me read it myself." Richie talked softly, trying to spare Eddie's ears. Eddie made a sort of noise and Richie took that as yes. He looked at the top of the page and began to read aloud.

After about a chapter and a half, Richie spared a glance at Eddie's face. His eyes were closed peacefully and for a second Richie thought he'd fallen asleep. Then the long, dark, eyelashes fluttered like wings and those warm brown eyes were looking up at Richie. Richie felt his cheeks go rosy and watched as Eddie's eyes flickered to his cheeks.

"You quit annoying me, so I figured you fell asleep." Eddie grinned and shook his head.

"I was listening. Now, get back to the ransoming of the women. Tom's got a point with the wooing." Eddie repositioned his head and closed his eyes again.

"He's talking about Stockholm Syndrome, Eds."

"Yeah and I'm talking about the disappearance of the female species. No offense, Bev- we'd keep you." Eddie was grinning and Bev rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but we give them Stanley." Richie offered and Eddie giggled. Without looking up from his puzzle, Stan flipped them off. Eddie giggled harder, the vibrations from his chest making Richie feel like he was holding onto a- well never mind that.

"Alright, back to the ransoming then." Richie started reading the pages again. Soon enough though, he felt Eddie's breathing even out on top of him. He was asleep this time, but Richie didn't stop reading. He only curled his fingers around Eddie's palm, feeling smile overwhelm his face when Eddie curled his fingers around Richie's hand in response.

Yeah, Richie didn't mind this. In fact, he thought he loved it.

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #Stanley uris #stan uris #it chapter one #it chapter two #IT #the other losers are mentioned #losers club #reddie #Richie x eddie #fluff #fluff without plot #I threw this together quickly #more to come #toby writes

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ask-sincerely-sea · 4 years

Text

A rundown of the Mermaid AU

Here’s a bullet list of my Mermaid AU and most of the content I have imagined for it! These are taken from three different posts on my main blog, but for simplicity, I compiled them all here! It is long, but feel free to read and get a feel for this universe!

All the Murphys are sharks, but they’re all different types of sharks.

Science doesn’t exist in my world so don’t expect genetics and aquatic ancestry to be something that is strict. Most families tend to stay within the same family and/or genus.

Connor is a Shortfin Mako Shark.

Zoe is a Blue Shark (Fun fact: Blue Sharks are a species of Requiem Sharks).

Cynthia is a Whale Shark.

Larry is an Oceanic Whitetip Shark.

Evan and Heidi are both octopus.

Evan is a Coconut Octopus.

Heidi is a Mimic Octopus.

Alana is a Pacific White Sided Dolphin.

Jared is a White Spotted Pufferfish.

Although intelligent like humans, mermaids will exhibit behaviors akin to their aquatic ancestry.

Evan being a Coconut Octopus will hide within ocean debris as a form of camouflage. This is often triggered by spikes in anxiety, but he also uses it to avoid interaction.

Jared absolutely puffs up. It’s usually caused by elevated emotion. Sometimes he’ll puff up because he’s upset, other times he’ll accidentally cause himself to puff up just from laughing too hard.

The Murphy family is a family a predators. They all have an acute and accurate sense of smell. Larry, Connor, and Zoe are active hunters, and when they are in hunting mode it’s hard to break them out of it until they are satiated.

Merpeople do form societies and interact with each other. They don’t hunt each other and unlike their aquatic ancestors, they don’t all follow migration paths. Some merfamilies will migrate.

Now I’ll give you all the cute and fun and interesting stuff…

Connor loves to explore any wreckage he can find. He’s super fascinated by human life and loves finding shipwrecks, plane wrecks, and even leftover skeletons.

He frequents the wrecks of military vessels most often and collects dog tags from fallen soldiers. He refurbishes them as much as he can because he likes to see the names of the men and women lost.

He often spies on humans who are boating as well. Be it a wedding boat, fishermen, or just vacationers, he just loves watching them from afar. However, the moment they spot him (usually only his dorsal fin on his tail), he dives away

.Hes accidentally becomes and ocean cryptid when a group of divers got a photo of him, albeit it fuzzy/blurry.

He’s obviously not aware of human cryptid culture.

Redditors think his viral photo is photoshopped.

Zoe isn’t as curious about humans. She is curious of the sky above and loves to watch birds as they fly around and feed on fish.

She goes stargazing a lot against her parents wishes. It’s dangerous at night and her parents (and most merpeople) fear poachers.

Zoe collects starfish on her tailfins. Since they are living creatures, she always communicates with them and makes sure they are okay with it.

Connor will leave jewelry and funky human artifacts he finds in Zoe’s room. She doesn’t know Connor is the one that leaves her random items and just assumes it’s Cynthia.

Cynthia is fascinated with human artifacts and frequents a lot of merpeople who are traders for human trinkets.

However, she is terrified of humans and doesn’t dare go near them. When she was younger, she got tangled up I’m a fishing net that belonged to poachers.

Larry is also fascinated with human trinkets, but not as much as Cynthia. Being an Oceanic Whitetip, he loves the tale of the USS Indianapolis.

He and Connor used to search shipwrecks together, but they’ve since grown apart and haven’t hunted or scavenged together in a long time.

I already said a bit of this in my last post, but being a Coconut Octopus, Evan uses physical objects to hide in and behind as a form of camouflage.

Though camouflage isn’t really necessary for merpeople being that they are able to fend for themselves and create/use tools, weapons, utensils, etcetera.

Evan’s camo is more of a reflex with his anxiety. If he’s nervous, anxious, or embarrassed, he’ll find the nearest Evan-sized object and fold himself up to fit. His tentacles can fold together tightly, he just has to account for his upper body not being as flexible.

Heidi is a Mimic Octopus as uses her camo as more of a fun party tricks. Mimic Octopus are able to disguise with many backgrounds, but are also able to contort and arrange their tentacles to resemble other species.

When Evan was little, they would travel to shallow banks along islands where the sun shone through the water really brightly. She’d contort her tentacles and do little shadow puppets of other species for him on the sand.

So, Jared is a pufferfish and not a porcupine fish. He has spines, but they’re very small and thin. They usually only show up when he’s inflated.

He HATES being inflated but it’s happens a lot.

Basically any elevated emotion inflates him. He’s angry? Puff! He’s playful? Puff! He’s excited? Puff! He’s sad? Puff! He’s [redacted]? PUFF!

He doesn’t care too much about human culture, but he is aware of this cursed video. He was hanging around a boat with a bunch of spring breakers and slipped a phone for a few minutes, stumbling across Youtube. Connor thinks it’s the funniest thing ever.

Oh, yeah, so merpeople don’t have any sort of electronic technology, but some of the most curious ones will snatch devices from boats. They are aware they don’t work underwater, so it’s usually like a dramatic spy scene of mermaids hanging out by boats with phones and tablets and messing around as much as they can for five to ten minutes.

Alana is super social and during vacations from school she’ll travel with merpeople and regular aquatic life and migrate around the world.

She’s traveled literally everywhere and has been doing it since she was a child. Her whole family used to go, but now it’s just her. Her parents trust her to be alone.

Alana has come across Sea World and other marine parks with Orcas and it makes her incredibly angry. There have been a few instances where animals in captivity have… Mysteriously escaped back into the wild…

She does have a super playful side and is very curious of humans despite often having a negative judgement/attitude towards them. When she just wants to have fun or relax, she goes bow riding along the wake of boats. She’s clever enough to not be seen.

Yes, there is merpeople high school because why not.

Again, science doesn’t exist and this au honestly doesn’t have rules.So just go ham and make mermaids, y'all!

I’m still deciding on how I want to portray Miguel, but right now I’m thinking Red Lionfish or Pacific Seahorse.That boy is something very colorful and proud!

So previously I mentioned there being an education system for merpeople as they do form societies.

So all the teens (minus Miguel) go to school together.

Their school, as well as most of the buildings in their particular society, is made up of scrapped parts from shipwrecks and other human debris. There are also some buildings and landmarks carved out of the landscape, but they gotta keep it fresh, keep it interesting. They’re still discovering and learning technology, but in their own unique ways.

(Okay, you probably didn’t even care about that fact but as an enthusiast for a “rebuild from the remains” aesthetic, I have to sprinkle in my little funky twists.)

The particular “town” of merpeople they live in isn’t very large and is constantly changing size and population due to some mers moving in and out.

Evan broke his arm over summer break in a coastal accident.

Seeing that merpeople don’t fully abide by the living standards of their aquatic ancestors, they tend to mix, mingle, and migrate without too much structure. Obviously certain families with stay together and there are some pockets of merpeople who live by more strict cultural rules. But for the sake of au, Evan and the gang live in a more relaxed mer civilization.

So, over the summer Evan was working with a group of mers that focus on coastal wildlife. Evan in particular focused on coral health and how it was being affected by human activity.

But our boy is depressed and lonely, so one day he strays from his usual group of coworkers and ventured toward a cluster of fishing boats. The general rule is don’t go near humans, especially when on the job.

He noticed that some of the boats were anchored, so he grabbed one of them from the seabed, hoisted it up the surface, and launched it above water for his to come crashing down with force behind it.

His arm got pinned under the anchor, thus breaking it.

Now, the rest of the AU at the moment is more freeform and doesn’t follow the plot of the musical, but I did want to included how Evan broke his arm.

Connor is not dead in this particular version of the AU, but feel free to craft multiple storylines and arcs with different outcomes!

Connor does paint his nails!

As previously mentioned, he is very fascinated by human society and like to get a little too close.

So, one day he came across some spring breakers and watched as they went about their activities sunbathing and painting their nails. As soon as they looked away, he stole several bottles.

It’s rare for him to find nail polish, especially since he ruined his first bottle by opening it up under water and losing the contents. But whenever a party boat or a boat of spring breakers rolls by, especially with a bunch of girls, he always has to check.

He quickly learned that whenever he wants to do his nails he has to make a whole thing about hauling himself up to surface and propping on a rock or a beach for some time.

He’s collected his signature black as well as a metallic purple, glittery pink, and bright turquoise. He wears the black and purple the most. He loves the other two colors, but poor baby is insecure and wearing nail polish as a mer is already enough to cause stares.

Jared also thinks that human legs are hot.

When Jared is puffed up, other mers will bop him around like a volleyball. It’s an unfortunate thing for any and all puffers.

Evan’s dad is a Barracuda mer, which for a Barracuda and an Octopus to mate is incredibly rare. It’s a wonder that Evan didn’t come out a totally wack and new sea monster.

But like I said, science doesn’t really exist here! Anything goes! Be whatever mer you wanna be! Love whatever mer you wanna love!

#mermaid au #mer au #deh #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen au #evan hansen #connor murphy #jared kleinman #alana beck #zoe murphy #cynthia murphy #larry murphy #heidi hansen

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themuffinbee · 4 years

Text

Lore Olympus Novelized, Chapter 3

First Chapter - Previous Chapter

This chapter was a challenge for me since we see Persephone wake up three different times in chapters 4, 5, and 6. So, to keep at least some form of chronological sense, I'm taking parts of the chapter 6 scene and splicing them into chapters 4 and 5. Otherwise, the events would have been all out of order. Hope you all still enjoy it!

Again, this is merely an unofficial fan-adaptation. All plot and dialogue belong to the talented Rachel Smythe :)

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“I need to talk to her,” Hades announced as he straightened his cufflinks. However, his confidence faltered just as quickly as it had appeared. There was one problem with that plan. "But, she's with Artemis--"

"Who passionately hates you!" Poseidon laughed, clapping Hades on the back.

Hades glared at his brother. "Wow! Really, Poseidon? I hadn't noticed!"

Looking back into the crowd, he found the Goddesses of Spring and the Moon laughing and dancing out of time with the music. Somehow, Persephone looked even more radiant when she smiled, the sight of it almost enough for him to feel slightly less sour towards her surly companion. Almost. Two hundred years of Artemis' unjustified grudge had cemented his poor opinion of the Huntress. After all, the whole Orion thing wasn't his fault, he was just doing his job. If she wanted someone to blame, she should look to that asshole brother of hers. Of course, she hadn't taken it too well when he had raised that very valid point.

Yeah, she was going to be a problem.

"Okay, okay, okay.” Zeus sent a smirk in his direction. “I've got a plan."

Hades kept his eyes on the rosy goddess. "Hit me."

"I'll distract Artemis. While I'm doing that, you go talk to Persephone."

"Perfect."

Oh, that was right. There was a reason why he put up with his youngest brother. It was for times like these when Hades required a more…crafty...solution.

"What do I do?" Poseidon asked, pointing at himself.

Hades cast an uneasy glance at Zeus. Poseidon tended to have good intentions most of the time, but his help was often anything but helpful.

"Errrr…stay here and drink a beer?" Zeus suggested.

"I'm on it."

Oh, thank the gods.

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"... And so I punched him in the face, and that was that!" Artemis finished her story with a proud grin and Persephone hid a laugh behind her hand.

It had taken a while, but she was beginning to feel a little more at ease among the crowd. She was just another face in a massive swarm of people, which wasn't so bad. Back when she had that accident earlier with the guy and the drink and all that, no one had pointed or stared. Hardly anybody had even spared a glance at her. Everyone here was too focused on having a good time to take note of her, which, you know, made total sense at a party. It had been a relief at the time, but being invisible to everyone around her wasn't great either.

"Hello, Artemis. You're looking splendid, as always," said a voice smoother than silk.

Persephone looked up to see Zeus, King of the Gods, standing behind her friend with a hand on her shoulder and a smug smile on his face. Persephone nearly choked on her drink, she hadn’t expected to see him so soon.

Artemis smiled. "Hey, Zeus. Great party!"

'Zeus?' She called her father by his name? It wouldn't be entirely out of the ordinary with Artemis' personality, but Persephone wondered if it had more to do with Zeus' preferences over those of her friend.

Weird.

Zeus' smile became an irritating smirk. "Word on the street is your marksmanship is excellent, but your brother's is second to none."

"Says who?!" Artemis' eye twitched and she jabbed her father in the chest. "I want to settle this right now!"

Wow, Persephone had known the Goddess of the Hunt was competitive, but she had never seen her so fired up. Still, this didn't seem like a good venue for an archery competition. Persephone would just have to wait for Artemis to calm down and then...go back to not talking to anyone else, she guessed.

Just then, she felt a hand on her own shoulder as a voice said close to her ear, "Hey, kiddo. Wanna have some real fun?"

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Hades stalked back to the glassed-in suite, fingers fidgeting like mad with the scrap of paper in his pocket. He should have known. He should have known. The Fates must had decided this would be a shitty night no matter what he did, and for him to have tried to change it was a stupid move on his part.

What was even more stupid was how angry he felt about the whole damn thing. The red hue gathering around the edges of his vision and the bluish glow of his reflection told him his control was starting to slip. All those crystal-clear windows were liable to start cracking from here to Tartarus if he didn't get his shit together.

"Yeesh, that's a mood," Poseidon said as Hades pushed through the door. "Strike out already?"

Hades crossed his arms and glared down at his brother. "Worse! I couldn't even find her, it's as if she vanished into thin air!"

He had looked among the throngs of people for a good ten minutes for a glimpse of pink hair or skin, but she was nowhere to be found. The universe could have at least given him the chance to screw things up on his own. Then he would know what her voice sounded like, or if she were as stunning close up as she had been at a distance. Maybe he could have even found out how, in that one moment, she had managed to look even more miserable than him when she had been surrounded by so much merriment.

And now he might never know. The chances of running into the Goddess of Spring in the Underworld were below zero, and it wasn't like Artemis or Demeter would let him anywhere near her when he was topside on Olympus or in the mortal realm.

Gods, he needed a drink. Where had he put that scotch?

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Persephone's head felt…heavy. She leaned against the back of the couch, her empty champagne glass rolling out of her hand and onto the cushion. The darkened room seemed to spin around her, the music from the dance floor now somehow muffled, yet still pounding against the inside of her skull.

Where did Artemis go?

Persephone wasn't sure if she had said the words aloud…or even if she had meant to? Wait. Artemis…she had been with Zeus...and he had said something about…archery? And Artemis' brother? And then that was how she ended up here, with…with Eros. Because he was an archer too…and he was telling her about all the couples he had hooked up while she waited for Artemis. But it had been a while, wouldn't Artemis have finished whatever she was doing by now?

I guess I don't want to be clingy…

"Another drink?" Eros asked with a smile, holding up a glass. His hand seemed to shift from side to side without ever moving.

"I feel…I feel awful." Oh, she heard her voice that time, a dragging sound that was too rounded at the edges. That meant she had said something…right?

Parties were supposed to be fun, but this…this wasn't fun. Eros had seemed nice at first, but now Persephone wasn't so sure she liked him. She wasn't sure if she liked any of this. The crowds, the noise, getting ditched by her only friend...she had thought meeting new people and dancing and drinking would make her feel happier, but now…

Now she felt lonelier than ever.

Persephone shifted deeper into the couch, her foot knocking over one of the several glasses littering the floor. Maybe...maybe if she propped her head on the cushion and closed her eyes, the room would stop spinning. Better yet, maybe she could just take a nap until Artemis was ready to go home.

Home...

I want to go home.

But which one? The one on Olympus she had only lived in for two days? Or...or did she mean the one in the Mortal Realm? The one that was so safe it was suffocating?

She felt a gentle pressure behind her back and under her legs, and soon she was moving. Like, actually moving, which was even worse than sitting still and only feeling like she was moving. She was too nauseous to speak, too tired to open her eyes, too dizzy to--

"I'm very sorry about all of this," she heard Eros say into her ear, yet he sounded so far away. "But, as far as I'm concerned, Aphrodite's word is law."

After that, there was only blessed, lonely darkness.

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Petals sprang from Persephone’s hands as she splashed botanical colors across the hillsides. Roses, crocuses, narcissus, larkspur, lilies, all scattered in a beautiful, chaotic collage through endless fields of green.

“Persephone!” a familiar voice called. “Sweetheart, come here!”

“I’m just finishing up, Mama!” The last of the petals floated away on the wind, and Persephone wondered what would happen if she followed after them. Could she travel through the air like dandelion seeds, bury herself under the dark earth, and spring back up in a cluster of wildflowers? Over and over again? Drifting further away from everything she knew?

Persephone turned away from the hillsides and ran to her mother, a puffy laurel of dandelions forming on her head.

Demeter, tall and stately in her immaculate chiton, cupped Persephone’s cheeks and bestowed a warm smile on her daughter. “You’ve been working very hard, so I got you a present.”

“R-really?!” As strict and disciplined as her mother was, presents were a rare thing indeed.

Demeter put a hand on Persephone’s shoulder and turned her towards their home. “It’s this way.”

“Oh my!” Persephone brought her hands up to the sides of her face. Sitting next to their house was a massive, domed structure of curling wrought iron, whitewashed columns, and panels of gleaming glass. “Is this greenhouse really for me?”

“Absolutely, you’ve earned it.” Her mother leaned towards her with another smile, lilac strands of hair falling in elegant streams over her shoulders. “Don’t just stare at it. Have a look inside!”

Persephone giggled, unable to contain her overflowing joy, and ran through the doors. It was just as lovely on the inside with sunlight filtering into patterns on the ground and the familiar scent of damp earth filling her nose. She breathed in deep to savor the smell, then flung her hands up over her head in one swift motion. Vines of roses climbed up the carved columns, trees sprouted from carefully lined plots and pushed up against the inside of the dome, and blooming shrubs grew in every other free space in a crowd of colors.

Arms crossed in front of her chest, she cast an admiring eye over her work. There was nothing left to do, no more space for her plants to grow. She smiled. “I think I’m ready to leave now.”

She turned on her heel back towards the entrance and froze before she could even take a step. No…that couldn’t be right. Persephone glanced around as her joy transformed into dread. “There’s no door!”

A hot wind ripped through the greenhouse, bringing with it the smell of decay as the cheery, dappled sunlight turned crimson. Her mother stood at one of the windows, green skin bathed in scarlet, wringing her hands while dark shadows pooled under her eyes. She spoke, her tone coddling yet detached, “I took the doors away.”

“Mama, no!” Persephone ran to the window, fingers grappling for any catch or gap along the sill. She looked back to her mother, only to find she had grown to a titanous size, one giant eye peering in through the glass. Tears began running down Persephone’s cheeks as her knees buckled under her, hands going slack against the windowpane. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Persephone, I know this may seem cruel,” Demeter pressed her gargantuan finger opposite of her daughter’s hand, “but it’s for the best.”

“Don’t make me stay in here, I promise to be good!” Persephone’s plea ended in a strangled squeak as her mother’s irises turned dark, melding with her pupils in molten, shifting pools of black. Persephone took a step back, her hand clasped around her mouth so tight that it pushed int her teeth.

“When you’re in here…” Demeter’s voice came from everywhere and nowhere all at once as it echoed off of the greenhouse walls, reverberated through the dirt, beat from beneath Persephone’s ribcage. Oozing blackness spread to cover the entirety of her mother’s eyes, save for bright, glowing pinpricks of ruby light at their centers, “...no one can hurt you.”

The blackness snapped into vertical slits as her mother’s voice exploded through Persephone’s brain, “NO ONE!”

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A low noise droned in her ears, and it took a moment for Persephone to realize it was coming from her own throat. With another groan, this time intentional, she pulled the covers over her head. Gods, what a horrible dream. But that’s all it was, a dream. Just a dream. She wasn’t trapped in some inescapable greenhouse, her mother wasn’t a giantess, and she was safe and sound in her bed on Mt. Olympus. Everything was fine.

She curled her knees up to her chest and froze. No, everything was not, in fact, fine. Wrapped around her were not the comfy, worn covers she’d had for years, but sheets so smooth that they felt unused. She was also still wearing Artemis’ dress from the night before and not her soft cotton nightshirt. Afraid of what she might see, she peeked out underneath the blankets.

Oh no.

Persephone pushed herself upright and looked around with wild eyes. Shadows clung to every corner of the room, filled with dark, angular furniture and the occasional traditional jar or tapestry. The air smelled sharp and crisp like a clear winter’s morning, and the temperature felt almost as cold on her exposed skin.

She drew the covers up to her chest. “W-Where am I?!”

Next Chapter

#my fics #Lore Olympus #Lore Olympus Novelized #Persephone #Hades

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letterstothemidnightsociety · 3 years

Text

And I’m back from my midseason finale, continuing my journey to decipher how and why a show about two sexy brothers who hunt ghosts aired on television for over a decade. It’s Supernatural!

Back in 2009, when I rushed head long from “Salvation”/”Devil’s Trap straight into “In My Time of Dying” (Kripke, you’re being a real bitch with these titles), I was not the TV connoisseur who writes tumblr posts about ancient shows that you read before you. The cliffhanger at the end of “Devil’s Trap” is good enough that it didn’t matter that I’d just crossed the threshold from the first season into the second season. What mattered was that Dean was dying in the back seat and holy shiz, they crushed the Impala?? So I popped out one DVD disc and happily plugged in the next without stopping to think what a new season might mean.

Of course, I knew second seasons were precious. You watch Firefly ONCE and you know the fear of a Show Cancelled Too Soon. Supernatural, apparently, was on the edge of cancellation after season 1, but it’s renewal coincided with the birth of the brand new CW, a network built from the ashes of The WB and UPN respectively, that was in need of nightly programming to fill up the air. So Supernatural was saved (aha) from the Cancellation Bear and remained in it’s (primo) Thursday night time slot, 9pm warning label in-tact.

What do we say to the Cancellation Bear? Not Today!

That’s not to diminish the importance of it’s renewal for season 2! Depending on what network or cable channel (or year), only something like 20 - 30% of freshman shows get renewed for a season 2. To be fair, if every show that aired in the fall got renewed in the spring, there’d be no time slots left for new freshman shows the following fall, so something’s gotta give. SPN getting a season 2, even if the odds were a little more in their favor than they might want you to think, is still pretty miraculous, especially for 2006. Remember, this is pre-streaming services acquiring original content. In 2006, Netflix was a rental service that focused on mailing you DVDs. Via the U.S. Postal Service. And they wouldn’t officially start acquiring distribution licenses for broadcast shows (let alone their own content) until 2007 - two years after SPN started airing. In the early 2000′s, there were fewer opportunities for television shows to make it in front of an audience because there were fewer options for watching television. I’ll say it a hundred times - Supernatural is a DINOSAUR.

So what do you do when you’re gripped tight and raised from cancellation after your first season? Well if your Supernatural, you start off with one helluva bang.

Maybe more of a wallop.

As should be obvious by now, I watch a lot of supernatural and Supernatural-Adjacent television. I love a Season One, but very often those shows start to go downhill in Season 2. Why? For the simple fact that your characters are too good now. They’re too powerful. They’ll never be as vulnerable as they were in season 1, and if there’s no vulnerability, there’s less concern about their survivability. I’m not as invested in these characters because I’m not worried about them anymore. There’s not tension of will they/won’t they - you know they will, in the end, overcome. Of course, the solution to this conundrum is to level your villains up alongside your heroes. The trouble with that strategy is you end up with ludicrously, laughably super strong villains that lose their grounding in reality. This is a problem I foresee for SPN post season 5, but I haven’t gotten there yet, so I’ll leave that alone for right now.

So for me, what Supernatural does at the start of season 2 is genius. Think about the end of season 1 - our boys lose. They straight up failed. They had one goal - kill the demon that killed their women mom/wife and girlfriend - and they did not even remotely do that. They’re beaten, they’re bloody and now, just when we think they can’t lose any more, they lose some more.

I’m gonna be real honest here, this was a real turn on for me Sammy.

First it’s Baby. For two boys who hop from cheap motel to cheap motel, I think it’s safe to say that the Impala is basically their home. They lose the fight and then they lose their home. That’s rough.

Also, Bobby, I love you, but WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S SCRAP?!?!

Next, they almost lose Dean. Dean is the only thing that’s keeping this family together and he is donezo. He’s so gone, a Reaper is concocting an elaborate hallucination to get him to come to terms with his imminent demise. Which honestly, is a very nice thing for this Reaper to do, but also bb, don’t you do it!

You gotta hand it to this Reaper, she really knew allll the right buttons to push.

Next, we lose the Colt. They have one (1) weapon to use against the Yellow-Eyed-Demon and John gives it away. Is he also finally acknowledging that his children require his love and care? Yes. Is this the shittiest decision he’s ever made, even if it is to save the life of his firstborn? ALSO YES.

Pretty damn stupid, JOHN.

And finally, in the last 5 minutes of the episode, we lose John Winchester himself. And this bitch ain’t coming back. He’s gone. He’s gone for good. Sam and Dean spent months searching for their father, building up this legend of a man, and we as an audience spent months right along with them, only to watch him die in the first episode of season 2! Sam and Dean don’t start out season 2 back at square one, they’re back at square -10. Sure they know who the bad guy is now, but they don’t know how to find him, don’t know how to kill him, and the only person who did know can’t help them anymore! And to top it all off, they don’t even have a ride back from the hospital!

JK, we all know Bobby came and picked them up and took him back to his place, he’s the Real Hero of this show.

Also, I’m getting ahead of myself here but I’m on a roll - John’s last words to Dean are basically a threat that oh yeah, you have one more thing that this war on hell will steal from you. If you can’t save your brother, you’ll have to kill him. Sure John. Sure. Dean’s definitely gonna do that, John, you bitch.

And they don’t just write this loss off. Over the next three episodes we see how deep this failure goes. Sure, our guys are still out there, doing their thing, killing evil sonsabitches, but damn they are torn up and they are not handling it well.

Listen, I don’t know what your viewing experience is like, but the recaps on my dvd play this scene every episode for the next, like, five episodes.

“Everybody Loves a Clown” is a very clear attempt to get back to normal. So clear that they even say it in the episode somewhere, but they have a lot of climbing to do before they get anywhere near normal. They’re driving around in a minivan, they’re taking cases from strangers, they’re living as carnies - their whole world is upside down.

We get another low blow in “Bloodlust.” Dean learns that a) no one can replace his father and b) that Monster doesn’t necessarily mean Evil. So at the end of the episode, when he asks Sam, “What if we killed things that didn’t deserve killing,” you feel it like a gut punch. Dean doesn’t even get to keep his own faith that he’s doing the right thing anymore.

Hey buddy. While you’re down on the ground, we thought we’d kick ya a little bit, OK?

And then we round that out with “Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things,” a nice zombie episode that is definitely not about the zombies. Sam and Dean are still grieving the death of their father in a very real way and I actually think Sam’s idea to visit their mom’s grave is really nice. He obviously took several psych courses and is handling grief in a much healthier, mature way than Dean. That being said, when he starts to go all Psych Major on Dean, even I want to slap him in the face. And then that whole attitude really bites him in the ass when Dean finally does open up and he realizes he’s not qualified to therapize this shit.

Oh no, it OK, don’t be cry!

See, we as the audience know that John Winchester traded his own soul to save Dean’s life, but Dean was in a coma with a Reaper, so there’s no way to know what Dean knows. But that bitch is astute and he figures it out. The Colt gone, their dad gone, and that horrible wrong sensation when he woke up in the hospital all point to the fact that John’s final gift to his son was the crushing weight of guilt. Dean knows that John should be here with Sam, would be here with Sam, if it wasn’t for Dean. And since a demon was involved, Dean probably suspects where John is right now. And that is something that he is just gonna have to carry for the rest of forever. I mean, I love Dean and I’m glad he’s still here, but that’s a real dick move John.

John Winchester. Ruining Lives from Before and Beyond the Grave.

Notice the change in this season - with the exception of the Yellow Eyed Demon, these first few episodes are not about the monster. These are Feelings Episodes, ooey gooey Feelings Episodes, that just use the monster-of-the-week to get characters to deal with their inner traumas. This is SPN saying they’re not gonna stay on the surface of this show, they’re gonna dig deep and focus on Character Substance over the Horror FX Style. And in season 2, that still feels fun! As an audience member plowing through these episodes, I was thrilled that this was the direction the show was taking. I was also thrilled that all these episode end with Dean staring dramatically into the middle distance, just some A+ cinematography there gentlemen, great job.

In order, Ep 201, 202, 203, 204. I was not kidding.

I’m also noticing, having written all this down, that these are some very Dean-centric episodes. Like, it’s very heavy on the Dean. Which I’m not mad about, but I just think it’s real funny considering that Sam was definitely our lead protagonist/entry point into season 1.

Now though? This is honestly my biggest fear as I continue my quest to make it through the entire series. I know how it ends. I have a tumblr account and sometimes I like spoilers to prep me for what’s coming, so I know how this all shakes out. And I think the reason that I sort of gave up on the series was because at some point, these Feelings episodes get too heavy. If all your characters are always bogged down by grief and guilt and loss, at some point that’s not enjoyable to watch anymore. You’ve gotta give them a win at some point. A real win that doesn’t come with caveats like Dean sold his soul to the devil, or, Sam’s locked in a cage with the devil, or really anything involving the devil at all.

So while I’m enjoying season 2 still, I am worried that my enjoyment level is gonna sink as the series goes on. But that’s still a ways down the road, so in the meantime, have more of Dean staring dramatically into the middle distance.

#Supernatural Season 2 #Supernatural Rewatch #SPN #sam and dean #Sam Winchester #but mostly #dean winchester #In My Time of Dying #Everybody Loves a Clown #Bloodlust #Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things #Seriously Kripke #What the hell are these titles?#Dean staring dramatically into the middle distance appreciation post #To be fair #they knew what I wanted #television #CW

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stainandscribble · 5 years

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Mocha

Pairing: Jongdae (EXO Chen) X Reader feat. EXO

Genre: Coffee Shop AU, fluff, one shot,

Summary: Two years ago you published your first poetry anthology, and since then your publisher and editor have been pestering you for another one. Forced to work towards a deadline, you find a nice little coffee shop, and just as you set off to write your second masterpiece, a certain barista catches your eye, or rather the book he is reading does. Will inspiration find you among the coffee foam?

A/N: Excuse my poor attempts at poetry. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4426

You sat in front of the desk in the cluttered office, your editor’s work space littered with manuscripts and unsigned contracts.

The editor sat at the desk, looking through her computer, ready to whine about your lack of submissions recently.

The publishing company had asked for you to complete another anthology after the first one had turned out to be a hit. But that was two years ago, and they were rather impatient for your second book. You wanted to give them another anthology. Truly. But there was just one problem. You had no idea what to write about. You had finished your literature degree last year and proceeded to work full time as a journalist, reviewing books and reporting on other writers. Your name had faded from the spotlight shortly after the first book. Now you worked behind the scenes, pushing forward other writers, helping them to not fade the way you did.

But that was not satisfactory for your editor, who had encouraged you several times to pick up the pen. You just could not make yourself do it. No words spilled from your fingers. This time, the inkwell had run out, and you were in desperate need of inspiration and motivation.

Ironic, since you had spent every waking moment focused on writers and writing.

“Y/N,” Susan looked at you pointedly, “Just thirty poems.” She was practically begging, but you knew that she was your biggest support right now, so you kept quiet.

“Don’t you have anything at all?” She asked once more, and you cowered slightly under her intense gaze. The problem was not that you didn’t have anything, it was that you didn’t have anything that was appropriate for publication. Sure, poets are supposed to bare their soul for everyone to see in their work, but you wanted to be comfortable with what you put out. After two years, you wanted to come back like a breath of fresh air, the cool yet fragrant breeze of spring.

“I have a few.” You finally surrendered, thinking about the three poems that were acceptable enough to be made public.

“We can make those work. Just make up the number.” Susan’s mood instantly brightened at the news.

“How much time would you give me?” You asked, much more positive than when your editor was glaring daggers at you from the other side of the desk. Sometimes vising Susan’s office was on par with visiting the headmaster, if not worse.

“Four months. That is the most I can offer you.” The dark-haired woman looked at you over her specs, her whole body showing she was back to talking business.

“I can try.” You reassured her, but it felt more like reassuring yourself. It had been two years. You sincerely doubted any one who once liked your poetry had long since moved on and would not even recognise your name on the book cover.

“Fine. Go.” Susan stood up and urged you out of her office. “Go. Find some inspiration while you’re at it. Go out, get drunk. Do something.” She insisted, waving goodbye as you disappeared down the corridor.

“Can I get a cappuccino?” You asked the smiling barista, who happened to be incredibly handsome, with soft features, full cheeks and cat-like eyes. His eyes were shining brightly when he saw you.

“Sure.” He smiled a bright smile before he turned to his work station. The café was quiet, the only noises were the soft instrumental music in the background and the tinkering of the barista.

“Thanks.” You muttered when the barista set the coffee in front of you. You managed to get a look at his nametag and made the conscious effort to remember his name: Minseok.

You took it to an empty table and sat down in one of the plush sofas, surrounding yourself with the variety of cushions. Everything in this coffee shop had a beige-brown aesthetic going on, broken at times by the lush green of the plants the baristas were cultivating. You could see various ferns, a few Christmas cactuses were in fool bloom, as well as a couple of azaleas. Despite the cold and harsh winter outside, the flowering plants had made the inside of the quiet coffee shop feel like spring, and you felt right at home in the calm and inviting atmosphere. After sipping on some of the coffee you ordered, you got to work, bringing out your laptop and a scrap notebook you used for ideas.

Three coffees later, you had gotten about two poems in, and they weren’t even that good. Mostly, your time in Black Pearl had consisted of staring at a blank notebook and stealing glances at the other patron sitting in the coffee table next to yours.

“Are you okay? You have sat here for five hours now.” He turned to you, breaking you out of your own thoughts.

“Is that a problem?” You asked, and your voice held a little too much attitude.

“No. It’s just a little unusual.” He answered, smiling, the corners of his lips turning upwards. His straight brows accentuated the unwavering gaze that rested on you. This man looked like he could have sonnets silently calling out his name, whatever it was. His golden skin reminded you of all the poems you have read about the sun, golden and glistening.

“What is that, a thesis?” He pointed out the blank word file on your laptop, one of his eyebrows had risen to accentuate the question that fell from his lips.

“No. I’m not a student.” You answered, his voice cutting your thoughts short.

“Work?” The handsome stranger leaned a little closer towards you. To be quite honest, you were enjoying the break he was giving you from ogling at the blank screen in a feeble attempt to come up with some ideas.

“Yeah. Second job.” You told him, and his demeanour changed from playfulness to pity. He looked at you apologetically, probably thinking that this job was a nightmare, since you were sitting, working for a solid five hours on a Sunday. He would not be far off. With the deadline looming over you, it felt like you were a part of some thriller.

“Tough” He shook his head, looking at you in disbelief, with a hint of awe in his warm brown eyes, glistening in the soft light. All you could do is compare them to the bindings of old books, the kind you hold gently in your hands, the kind you run the tips of your fingers over, feeling the soft material that has preserved the words inside for far longer than you had been on this blue little planet.

“You have no idea.” You muttered, still lost in the depths of his eyes, found again only when he looked away.

He returned to his book, and as you turned to your coffee cup, you almost did a double take. There, this handsome man had hidden himself behind a book you were far too familiar with.

“Leaving and Returning” The tittle read, and your name screamed at you like a painful reminder of the blue ink that had once stained your fingers. Your first anthology.

“Hey Jongdae! Want another coffee?” You watch as Minseok calls out into the almost empty shop, and the man that had just spoken to you lifts his eyes from the pages and smiles brightly at the barista.

“Make me a mocha!” he calls out, and the two exchange smiles before returning to their tasks.

A few more hours pass by, and its has long since turned dark outside. You gather your things, ready to return to your home and call it quits for today.

“You’re leaving?” The man, Jongdae, has asked, rising one eyebrow in question.

“Yeah, I have to catch the bus home. Bye.” You give him a little wave and a small smile, which he reciprocates with a grin.

“Bye!” he calls out behind you just before the door closes.

Jongdae watches as you leave, smiling to himself. Today had been a nice day. There were very few customers that passed through the shop today, and he had the pleasure of reading his favourite book whilst sipping on Minseok’s coffee, which by all means could be called divine. There was only one thing that puzzled him about you; the way you had sneaked glances at the book he was reading, and the fact that he could swear he saw you scowl at it at one point. Did you really hate the poet so much? What did the poor college student do to you?

It has been about a week since you had visited the coffee shop, and within that time you had allowed your publishing company to announce that you were writing again.

“Fine. Announce that I am writing another one.” You had told Susan during one of your visits to her office. You were ten poems in, and you had scrutinised every word you had put down at least thrice. It was a good time to announce your come back into the poetry scene.

And so, your publishing had put out a statement saying you were coming out with a new anthology, and that more information would be announced at the beginning of April, still four months away. This meant that your deadline had shortened slightly, but that was good enough for you.

It was another slow day at the Black Pearl, and around lunch time the guys had gathered around the empty tables, huddling over steaming cups of tea and coffee with various snacks sprawled between them. Jongdae was checking his phone, smiling to himself.

“What are you so happy about?” Minseok asked, looking at him over his coffee cup.

“His favourite poet is writing another anthology.” Jongin answered for him, looking over Jongdae’s shoulder at his phone screen, where the publishing company had announced that Y/N is writing another anthology, and that more information should come out in early April. Jongdae himself was grinning from ear to ear at the news. He had read all the poems Y/N had put out, including the anthology, as well as the various poems that had been published as parts of collections and in writing magazines. He had kept all the excerpts safe in a notebook.

“That’s the big deal?” Chanyeol asked, his mouth full of food.

“This is her second anthology. And it took her two years to announce she is writing again.” Jongdae had answered, looking up from his phone, and reaching over to grab another handful of crisps.

“Why do you think she stopped?” Kyungsoo sips on his coffee, pulling the stained copy of the first anthology towards him. He flicks through the pages, stopping from time to time to scan over the black inky print.

“She wrote it in college.” Jongdae responds, and the guys nod in understanding, fully aware of how hard and demanding degrees are, and just how drained student can be. They used to be students themselves after all, and they had seen students in their café, sitting for hours on end, writing up assignments and essays and reports, fuelled only by coffee and desperation.

“She probably had other things to worry about than some rhymes.” Kyungsoo concludes, putting the book back on the table.

“So, I guess the Chalkboard will have poetry verses again.” Baekhyun mutters, shoving forkfuls of strawberry cake into his mouth, washing it all down with some sweet tea.

The next morning, Chanyeol and Junmyeon find Jongdae slouched over the blackboard with a chalk pen, making sure his calligraphy looks perfect.

“I will bloom,

In the most unexpected places,

My roots will break through into the soil

You cannot be rid of me.”

The white chalk read, and the guys leaned over Jongdae to see better.

“Nice.” Junmyeon commented, tying the black apron around his waist as Chanyeol started setting up for the day. Today just happened to be the day before new year’s, and many people had come to the town for the night life. This meant that soon their coffee shop would be busy again with people coming in for morning coffee.

“Let’s decorate the shop with some flowers while we are at it.” Chanyeol called out from behind the counter, holding up some vases that they had stashed away in a spare cupboard.

“Get Yixing to do it.” Jongdae tells them as he places the blackboard in its designated spot.

“I’ll call him.” Junmyeon pulls out his phone. It would be the most convenient to ask Yixing seeing as he was still on the way here and could get the flowers on the way.

“Make sure he gets at least three bouquets!” Chanyeol calls out before he disappears in the storage room.

“Oh No.” You muttered. It was nine thirty in the morning and you were already fed up.

“My youth still haunts me.” You mumbled bitterly at the chalkboard sign at the entrance of the Black Pearl, that had become like your second home over the last few weeks. There, written beautifully in white chalk, was your poem, glaring at you, silently judging you gawked at it.

“Do you know the poet?” The barista looks at you with a smile on his face, clearly happy that you had recognised the poem.

“Yeah. I’ve read a few of her poems.” You mutter, hoping that he will not try to continue this conversation. You were not in the mood to talk about your past writing. Especially not this early in the day.

“She recently announced she is writing again.” The barista continued, attempting to lure you into the conversation.

“Jongdae over here is having a breakdown over the announcement.” He pointed at another barista. And to your surprise, it just so happened to be the man that had silently accompanied you from a few seats away for the last few weeks you had been visiting the café. You smiled awkwardly, acknowledging them both, before the barista motioned for you to give him your order.

“One mocha please.” You told him, still a little awkward. Jongdae got to work, and after waiting a few minutes, you received your coffee. You thanked him, before going to sit in your usual spot, which was thankfully vacant. Since it was just before New Year’s, the town was bustling with people, and so was the café that had been practically empty for the few weeks you have been here. Once you were seated, you look at your coffee, and to your astonishment, the milk foam had a snowflake pattern on top. It looked very pretty, and you thanked Jongdae silently for drawing it for you.

The snowflake, jogs your memory, takes you back to the time when you were a child, and the snow was magic. You remember joy, and weightlessness, and your grandmother putting your clothes to dry on the radiator. You remember the simple joys of childhood, the ones that you pushed away when writing the first time. But this time, you won’t make the same mistake. So, you write, frantic not lose your thoughts to slow moving hands. You write about the softness of the snow, and you write about love, warm and gentle, taking you back into her arms again and again.

“Hello.” Jongdae broke you out of your frantic train of thought, smiling at you brightly, his teeth showing.

“Hi.” You told him, a soft smile spreading on your lips.

“How is the work going.” He asked, but instead of looking at your notebook, he looks over at your untouched coffee.

“It’s going well.” You told him, happy about the progress. He flashed you another smile, before it fades away.

“Do you not like the coffee?” he asked, concern thick in his voice. You wanted to laugh. You look over to the untouched cup, and know that it is probably strange to him, that you had not taken even a sip yet.

“It’s been an hour.” He informed you as you stared at the cup.

Sheepish, you gave him a little smile. “I got lost in my work.”

“I’ll make you a fresh one.” He smiled, before picking up the cup and walking behind the counter.

“Thank you.” You smiled when he brought you a fresh cup, Jongdae flashed you a grin in return, before settling at the table beside yours, and pick up his book. This time, it was not your anthology. The white cover read “The Sun and her Flowers” and you smiled excitedly. It was one of your favourite anthologies. Jongdae noticed and sat at your table, discussing it with you over fresh coffee. You stayed like that until it was time for you to catch the bus home.

The boys were closing up Black Pearl, sitting around the cleared tables, this time they had devoured a pumpkin pie, and only a slice remained for Junmyeon, who had left to sort out things with their accountant.

“The roast you brought is good.” Minseok complimented Yixing, who was making himself an americano.

“I want an affogato while you are at it.” Baekhyun called out, leaning back in his chair.

“You are a barista why can’t you make it yourself?” Jongdae told him without looking as he continued to water the plants.

“Because food tastes better when someone else makes it for you.” Baekhyun whined, and Jongdae smiled to himself, as an idea popped into his head.

Ten minutes later, him and Kyungsoo were hiding behind the counter, laughing.

“This will be hilarious.” Kyungsoo laughs, his shoulders shaking, as he looked down at the café affogato standing on the counter as Jongdae put a little tub into a cupboard.

Baekhyun picked up the coffee dessert and a spoon, oblivious to the eyes that follow him.

“What is this?” He whined, spitting the dessert into a napkin.

Kyungsoo and Jongdae burst out laughing.

“Shortening.” Jongdae exclaimed, informing his friend gleefully that he got it from Baekhyun’s girlfriend next door.

“The look on your face is worth wasting the coffee beans.” Kyungsoo told him, as the other guys laughed, Chanyeol going as far as to hit Jongin in the arm.

“You are so mean!” Baekhyun shouted.

You had come back to Black Pearl a week after New Year’s. This time Jongdae had drawn a tulip into your milk foam. It was a pretty little flower, complete with long leaves. When his shift finished, he had sat at your table, the coffee stained anthology under his arm, and throughout the rest of the day you had gotten lost in the scattered papers and various redrafts. That night, Jongdae and his co-workers had invited you to stay with them after closing and had even given you a slice of apple pie they had been given by Baekhyun’s girlfriend. You had stayed so late in fact, that you were about to miss the last bus home. In the rush of goodbyes, and putting your things away, you had lost track of what you had taken, and what had stayed behind on accident.

And fate just had it that you had left something very important.

When Jongdae returned home from work, he found that the copy of Leaving and Returning was not coffee stained like his was. The cover had its original colour, it was a little worn out, and the binding had gone soft after being bent too often. There was not a single stain on it. He did discover, when he had flicked through the pages, that they were not clean.

Jongdae knew this book was yours, since you were the one that stayed behind with them. You had become a regular, and Jongdae had taken a liking to you. You enjoyed the same books, you both liked flowers, and he thought you were lovely over all. So, when he got your book in his hands, he flicked through it, just out of curiosity. He didn’t really expect to find anything, initially. Plenty of pencil annotations littered every page. Some words and verses had been highlighted with a pastel highlighter. His warm brown eyes fell on a single line, at the very end of the book.

“I shall return to you like a spring breeze, and you will see me in the blooming flowers, as I, like all else, am born anew.”

That was when it hit him. You were Y/N. The author who wrote the anthology was Y/N Y/L/N.

Jongdae started laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. How could he not realise this before?

He had watched you stop and stare at the chalkboard, he had watched you for weeks as you drafted and redrafted work, writing your second anthology. With all this evidence before him, he had just never connected the dots. Who would?

The next morning Jongdae watched you walk into the shop, eyes searching frantically for something, until they fell on him. He didn’t know why his heart started beating, a little faster, a little stronger than he was used to, or why his usual easy going nature escaped him for a split second, but he did know that when you did walk up to him, a copy of his anthology in your hands and a sheepish smile on your lips, he was braver than when he woke up this morning.

“Sorry I took your book by accident.” You told him, passing him the worn, think book. He took it from you, smiling happily.

“I took yours, Y/N” He had reached over the counter to give you back your equally worn out copy. Jongdae gave you a knowing smile, his eyes glinting as they looked over your face.

Your eyes widened in realisation that he knew. Jongdae knew who you were. He knew that that book he has read time and time again, the one he stained with coffee and softened with use, was yours. You had written it.

“It’s okay, since we managed to return them to their rightful owners.” You told him, mimicking his knowing smile, noticing that over his shoulder, the other two baristas, Yixing and Chanyeol, were watching your interaction with curious gazes.

“It’s her.” Yixing mumbled.

“I told you!” Chanyeol exclaimed, a little too loudly, but you and Jongdae paid him no mind.

“I was right.” Chanyeol repeated, this time quieter, making the both of you laugh. Sheepish, Chanyeol and Yixing returned to their work, laughing quietly.

“All those scattered papers, they were poems, weren’t they?” Jongdae asked, sitting you both down at an empty table.

“Yes.” You answered quietly, apprehensive about what is to come next.

“Were any of them love poems?” He asked, and you smiled at the unexpected question. Of all the things you thought could be possible, that was not a question you were prepared for.

“A few.” You looked away from him, a light blush dusting your cheeks.

“Who did you write them to?” He asked, a playful smirk graced his lips, as his eyebrow rose, inviting you to answer.

“You’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” you replied, a smile playing on your lips.

Over the following months, you and Jongdae continued your usual routine. He read beside you, as you wrote. You two drank coffee together, and even went out for food a couple times. From time to time, the guys from Black Pearl invited you out to their get togethers, usually when Baekhyun’s girlfriend came with him. They were all lovely, and not to mention hilarious when left alone without supervision.

Soon enough, the weather warmed up, spring passed, and summer came in full glory, golden rays falling down from the sky as you sat outside of the café, enjoying the affogato without the burden of deadlines looming over your head.

Jongdae had just returned from somewhere, and he stopped by your table before entering the café.

“Here.” You handed him a little package wrapped in light pink paper “It’s a present.”

He smiled at you, unwrapping the gift, before looking back at you. wrapped in the pink paper was your second anthology – Love and Revelation. The off-white cover had an illustration of a bouquet on it, stylised to imitate art on milk foam.

“Turn to page 47” You told him, smiling at the expression of utter awe and adoration painted over his sharp features.

“The Love – Coffee stains” He read aloud, before losing his voice completely at the words, printed in black ink on the page.

“The smell of coffee surrounds me,

And I am reminded of you,

Of how your passion leaves physical stains on books,

I stand astonished

Of your warmth,

Of the colour of your hair,

And the hue of your eyes,

Sparkling amber,

Coffee boy,

Golden man,

Ask me again who the love poems are for.

- I have written all of them thinking of you. “

The warmth that spread through his whole body rivalled the summer heat, and he was set on fire in the gentlest way possible.

“Is that what it feels like to be loved by a poet?” Jongdae murmured, looking from the book to you. You stand up to match him, taking a careful step closer, before whispering against his lips.

“If you allow the poet to love you.”

“Depends.” He answers, his lips softly brushing yours as he speaks.

“Will she accept my love in return?” He wonders, looking you straight in the eyes, and you can see the confidence gleaming in them, warming you up from the inside as your cheeks turn red. You both laughed, and when you are done, you took the first step, confidence matching Jongdae’s as you kissed him, lips pressed firmly against his own. You were unwavering, sure of your love for him, and his love for you.

“Love and Revelation” Jongdae muttered against your lips and were left breathless when he kissed fully.

“What a good title.” He concluded, looking deep into your eyes, seeing the love they held for him, drinking the sight in the same way he drank coffee.

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grigori77 · 5 years

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Summer 2019′s Movies - My Top Ten Favourite Films (Part 2)

The Top Ten:

IMPORTANT NOTE: You WILL NOT find It Chapter 2 here, but that does not mean it isn’t awesome. I saw it AFTER I had sompleted this but while it was still editing., Technically it’s part of the Autumn/Winter period anyway, opening as it did in September. Undoubtedly look out for it at the end of the year when I post my Top 30 for the year.

10. CAPTIVE STATE – WAY back in 2011, Rupert Wyatt followed up his impressive directorial debut The Escapist with an even more astounding show helming sci-fi franchise reboot Rise of the Planet of the Apes, and I knew here was a talent it was definitely gonna be worth my while to watch in future. Then the years ticked by and he spectacularly failed to follow it up, and I began to think he might become one of those frustrating auteur talents that explode onto the scene, wow us with their wares and then just STOP, like Donnie Darko’s Ryan Kelly or Blade’s Stephen Norrington. I was just about to give up hope when Wyatt returned with this dark and troubling skewed take on the alien invasion trope, but now, perversely, this film’s failing fortunes make me think his career might just take a swan dive after all, and as far as I’m concerned, on the evidence of the final film, that would be a crying shame. Instead of telling the story of how the Earth falls to the conquering might of invading alien forces, Captive State concentrates on what happens after, focusing on a humanity stagnating under the thumb of an all-powerful occupying force, the collaborating police force that maintains discipline on the populace through tagging and intrusive surveillance, and the deep cover resistance movement that’s built up in the eight years since “The Legislators” took over. The main narrative focus of the story is Gabriel Drummond (Moonlight’s Ashton Sanders), a downtrodden Chicago youth working a menial job but dreaming of getting out with his pregnant girlfriend, who discovers a tentative connection to the underground resistance when his brother Rafe (White Boy Rick’s Jonathan Majors), whom he previously thought was dead, re-enters his life with a desperate request. Unfortunately Gabriel has also come to the attention of local cop Will Mulligan (John Goodman), who’s looking to use this connection to finally penetrate the “dangerous terrorist element” his office has been working for years to eradicate. This is about as far from the classical invasion action territory of films like Independence Day, Skyline or even Signs as you can get, playing out much more like a World War 2 occupation thriller, and this is, in my opinion, one of its great strengths – there’s a palpable, knife-edged tension throughout, Wyatt cranking up the suspense as each new plot development ups the stakes for all involved, and when that tension does eventually break it does so in suitably explosive style, leading to some taut and harrowing set-pieces, while the director and his co-writer Erica Beeney pull off some impressive twists and skilful rug-pulls that consistently surprise. Indeed, this is one of the most skilfully written pieces of science fiction I’ve come across for a good while, brimming with big ideas and asking some suitably challenging questions throughout, before finally paying off our patience with a suitably powerful climax. It’s also extremely well-performed by a uniformly impressive ensemble cast – Goodman offers a performance of cool subtlety that proves the equal to much of his showier work on hits like 10 Cloverfield Lane and The Big Lebowski, while Sanders and Majors are both exceptional in what should have been major breakthrough roles that really built on their already impressive debuts, and there’s quality support from the likes of Machine Gun Kelly, Vera Farmiga, Alan Ruck, Kevin Dunn and Madeline Brewer. This is DEFINITELY one of the most robust and challenging pieces of scif-fi cinema I’ve seen this decade, and it certainly does deserve a lot more attention and appreciation than it’s received – it essentially bombed on its long-delayed release and suffered from painfully mixed, sometimes quite negative reviews, and I genuinely don’t understand either. This is an EXCELLENT film, and it’s a strong indicator of just what a great talent Rupert Wyatt is – I just have to hope this hasn’t ruined his chances for the future, because I couldn’t bear seeing him pull an undeserved vanishing act like so many others …

9. GODZILLA: KING OF MONSTERS – back in 2014, rising star director Gareth Edwards (already one-to-watch thanks to the sleeper hit success of his debut Monsters) proved he wasn’t going to be a one-hit-wonder when he aced his first major studio gig, reinventing Japanese superstar property Godzilla for western audiences and EFFORTLESSLY wiping out the appalling stigma of Roland Emmerich’s underwhelming previous attempt (needless to say he was then a no-brainer to helm the first Star Wars spinoff movie, Rogue One, but that’s another, even more awesome story). Suffice to say, the Big G’s name was good in western cinema again, and Legendary Pictures swiftly put their planned Monsterverse franchise into action, building on this solid foundation with a similarly stylish “prequel” in 2017’s Kong: Skull Island, with a showdown between the two screen icons intended further down the line. The next major hurdle, however, was this super-important follow-up, intended to get all the gears turning – if THIS ONE flunked, the Monsterverse would take a massive nosedive. Did it pull it off? Not quite … turns out this one’s not looking likely to scrape even on its massive investment, never mind make a profit, but that sure ain’t for lack of trying. Sure, the plot’s a bit of a far-fetched muddle and, as with its predecessor, the human characters are drawn in broad strokes and somewhat lacking in real spark, but the spectacle’s still there in spades and besides, the REAL selling point of these movies has always been their more gigantic characters. Godzilla’s just as much of a colossal badass as he was in the first film, still a skyscraper-high bruiser with a moody mean streak and some suitably apocalyptic bad breath, but ultimately just the kind of monumental reptile you want on your side in a cataclysmic scrap, and he’s sure got his work cut out for him with one serious collection of similarly massive monsters crawling out of the woodwork (or, in this case, compromised secure black sites controlled by covert Titan management organisation Monarch) – they’re a colourful bunch, from returning nasty Muto to newcomers Rodan and, particularly memorable, the beautiful but deadly Mothra, and most of them are heeding the call of the film’s TRUE scene stealer, triple-headed rival alpha Titan King Ghidorah, who is in every way a genuinely viable nemesis for the Big G himself. Needless to say, the BIG stars are presented without compromise throughout, as gargantuan and terrifying as their reputations make them out to be, and whenever they’re on screen it just lights up, the visual effects budget working overtime and all the money’s up there on the screen, while the property damage quota shoots through the roof in suitably pulse-racing style … and yet again, the human story does kind of get buried in the fallout. Not that they’re a completely unmemorable lot – it’s great to see Ken Watanabe return as elegantly noble Monarch honcho Dr Ishiro Serazawa, along with his assistant Dr Vivienne Graham (another winning turn from Sally Hawkins), and the rest of Monarch gets much stronger representation this time round as we’re introduced to a crew that includes Bradley Whitford, Ice Cube’s son O’Shea Jackson Jr. (Straight Outta Compton) and Aisha Hinds, while there’s a typically classy bad guy turn from Charles Dance as Alan Jonah, the amoral ex-soldier leading an eco-terrorist group who (for baffling reasons) want to awaken all the Titans at once so they can fight for supremacy. The main narrative focus, however, is on the fractured family unit of former Monarch specialist Dr Mark Russell (Super 8’s Kyle Chandler) and his fellow scientist wife Emma and daughter Madison (Vera Farmiga and Stranger Things’ Millie Bobby Brown), who have both been kidnapped by Jonah, a story that’s contrived and clumsily written, shot through with plot-holes when the twists aren’t painfully telegraphed ahead of time, and Brown barely gets ANYTHING to do other than be scared or stubborn, but they still give it their all and, since they’re all great actors, they largely win out against the writing. This certainly isn’t the best movie released this year, definitely leaning more towards the guilty pleasure category, but there’s more than enough good here to outweigh the bad, so this is definitely one of those wonderful movies where you get PLENTY out of it if you just sit back and GO WITH IT. It’s certainly got a strong director and co-writer in Michael Dougherty, who cut his teeth working for Bryan Singer on X2 and Superman Returns (which was similarly flawed, but still enjoyable in its own right) before making his big break behind the camera on Krampus, and for all its clunkiness it wins you over with its big-wow factor, can-do attitude and industrial-sized bucket-loads of heart and emotional heft, as well as a particularly cracking score from Bear McCreary, one of the most deservedly well respected composers working on both the big and small screens today, so in spite of the flaws this still deserves to be counted as a pretty rousing success. Thankfully Godzilla Vs. King Kong is still greenlit and scheduled to arrive next spring, so there’s still life in the old lizards yet – long live the King indeed.

8. DARK PHOENIX – wow, this really has been a summer for mistreated sequels, hasn’t it? There’s a seriously stinky cloud of controversy surrounding what is now, in light of recent developments between Disney and Twentieth Century Fox, all but QUARANTEED to be the last true Singer-era X-Men movie, a film which saw two mooted release dates (first November 2018 then this February, before finally limping onto screens with very little fanfare in June, almost as if Fox wanted to bury it. Certainly rumours of its compromise were rife, particularly regarding supposed rushed reshoots because of clashing similarities with Marvel’s major tent-pole release Captain Marvel (and given the all-conquering nature of the MCU there was no way they were having that, was there?), so like many I was expecting a clunky mess, maybe even a true stinker to rival X-Men Origins: Wolverine. In truth, while it’s not perfect, the end result is nothing like the turd we all feared – the final film is, in fact, largely a success, worthy of favourable comparison with its stronger predecessors. It certainly makes much needed amends for the disappointing mismanagement of the source comics’ legendary Dark Phoenix saga in 2006’s decidedly compromised original X-Men trilogy capper The Last Stand, treating the story with the due reverence and respect it deserves as well as serving as a suitably powerful send-off for more than one beloved key character. Following the “rebooted” path of the post-Days of Future Past timeline, it’s now 1992, and after the world-changing events of Apocalypse the X-Men have now become a respected superhero team with legions of fans and their own personal line to the White House, while mutants at large have now mostly become accepted by the regular humans around them. Then a hastily planned mission into space takes a turn for the worst and Jean Grey (Game of Thrones’ Sophie Turner) winds up absorbing an immensely powerful, thoroughly inexplicable cosmic force that makes her go powers haywire while also knocking loose repressed childhood traumas Professor Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) would rather had stayed buried, sending her on a dangerous spiral out of control which leads to a destructive confrontation and the inadvertent death of a teammate. Needless to the situation soon becomes desperate as Jean goes on the run and the world starts to turn against them all once again … all in all, then, it’s business as usual for the cast and crew of one of Fox’s flagship franchises, and it SHOULD have gone off without a hitch. When Bryan Singer opted not to return this time around (instead setting his sights on Queen biopic Bohemian Rhapsody), key series writer Simon Kinberg stepped into the breach for his directorial debut, and it turns out he’s got a real talent for it, giving us just the kind of robust, pacy, thrilling action-packed epic his compatriot would have delivered, filled with the same thumping great set-pieces (the final act’s stirring, protracted train battle is the unequivocal highlight here), well-observed character beats and emotional resonance we’ve come to expect from the series as a whole (then again, he does know these movies back to frond having at least co-written his fair share). The cast, similarly, are all on top form – McAvoy and Michael Fassbender (as fan favourite Erik Lehnsherr, aka Magneto) know their roles so well now they can do this stuff in their sleep, but we still get to see them explore interesting new facets of their characters (particularly McAvoy, who gets to reveal an intriguing dark side to the Professor we’ve only ever seen hinted at before now), while Turner finally gets to really breathe in a role which felt a little stiff and underexplored in her series debut in Apocalypse (she EASILY forges the requisite connective tissue to Famke Janssen’s more mature and assured take in the earlier films); conversely Tye Sheridan (Cyclops), Alexandra Shipp (Storm), Kodi Smit-McPhee (Nightcrawler) and Evan Peters (Quicksilver) get somewhat short shrift but nonetheless do A LOT with what little they have, and at least Jennifer Lawrence and Nicholas Hoult still get to do plenty of dramatic heavy lifting as the last of Xavier’s original class, Raven (Mystique) and Hank McCoy (Beast); the only real weak link in the cast is the villain, Vuk, a shape-shifting alien whose quest to seize the power Jean’s appropriated is murkily defined at best, but at least Jessica Chastain manages to invest her with enough icy menace to keep things from getting boring. All in all, then, this is very much a case of business as usual, Kinberg and co keeping the action thundering along at a suitably cracking pace throughout (powered by a typically epic score from Hans Zimmer), and the film only really comes off the rails in its final moments, when that aforementioned train finally comes off its tracks and the reported reshoots must surely kick in – as a result this is, to me, most reminiscent of previous X-flick The Wolverine, which was a rousing success for the majority of its runtime, only coming apart in its finale thanks to that bloody ridiculous robot samurai. The climax is, therefore, a disappointment, too clunky and sudden and overly neat in its denouement (and we really could have done with a proper examination of the larger social impact of these events), but it’s little enough that it doesn’t spoil what came before … which just makes the film’s mismanagement and resulting failure, as well as its subsequent treatment from critics and fans alike, all the more frustrating. This film deserved much better, but ultimately looks set to be disowned and glossed over by most of the fanbase as the property as a whole goes through the inevitable overhaul now that Disney/Marvel owns Fox and plans to bring the X-Men and their fellow mutants into the MCU fold. I feel genuinely sorry for the one remaining X-film, The New Mutants, which is surely destined for spectacular failure after its similarly shoddy round of reschedules finally comes to an end next summer …

7. FAST COLOR – intriguingly, the most INTERESTING superhero movie I’ve encountered so far this year is NOT a major franchise property, or even a comic book adapted to the screen at all, but a wholly original indie which snuck in very much under the radar on its release but is surely destined for cult greatness in the future, not least due to some much-deserved critical acclaim. Set in an unspecified future where it hasn’t rained for years, a homeless vagabond named Ruth (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) is making her aimless way across a desolate American Midwest, tormented by violent seizures which cause strange localised earthquakes, and hunted by Bill (Argo’s Christopher Denham), a rogue scientist who wants to capture her so he can study her abilities. Ultimately she’s left with no other recourse than to run home, sheltering with her mother Bo (Middle of Nowhere and Orange is the New Black’s Lorraine Toussaint), and her young daughter Lila (The Passage’s Saniyya Sidney), both of whom also have weird and wondrous powers of their own. As the estranged family reconnect, Ruth finally learns to control her powers as she’s forced to confront her own troubled past, but as Bill closes in it looks like their idyll might be short-lived … this might only be the second feature of writer-director Julie Hart (who cut her teeth penning well-regarded indie western The Keeping Room before making her own debut helming South By Southwest Film Festival hit Miss Stevens), but it’s a blinding statement of intent for the future, a deceptively understated thing of beauty that eschews classic superhero cinema conventions of big spectacle and rousing action in favour of a quiet, introspective character-driven story where the unveiling and exploration of Ruth and her kin’s abilities are secondary to the examination of how their familial dynamics work (or often DON’T), while Hart and cinematographer Michael Fimognari (probably best known for his frequent work for Mike Flanagan, including forthcoming Stephen King horror Doctor Sleep) bring a ruined but bleakly beautiful future to life through inventively understated production design and sweeping, dramatic vistas largely devoid of visual effects. Subtlety is the watchword, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t fireworks here, it’s just that they’re generally performance-based – awards-darling Mbatha-Raw (Belle) gives a raw, heartfelt performance, painting Rith in vivid shades of grey, while Toussaint is restrained but powerfully memorable and Sidney builds on her already memorable work to deliver what might be her best turn to date, and there are strong supporting turns from Denham (who makes his nominal villain surprisingly sympathetic) and Hollywood great David Strathairn as gentle small town sheriff Ellis. Leisurely paced and understated it may be, but this is still an incendiary piece of work, sure to become a breakout sleeper hit for a filmmaking talent from whom I expect GREAT THINGS in the future, and since the story’s been picked up for expansion into a TV series with Hart at in charge that looks like a no-brainer. And it most assuredly IS a bona fide superhero movie, despite appearances to the contrary …

6. ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD – since his explosion onto the scene twenty-seven years ago with his runaway smash debut Reservoir Dogs, Quentin Tarantino has become one of the most important filmmakers of his generation, a true master of the cinematic art form who consistently delivers moving picture masterpieces that thrill, entertain, challenge and amuse audiences worldwide … at least those who can stomach his love of unswerving violence, naughty talk and morally bankrupt antiheroes and despicably brutal villains who are often little more than a shade different from one another. Time has moved on, though, and while he’s undoubtedly been one of the biggest influences on the way cinema has changed over the past quarter century, there are times now that it’s starting to feel like the scene is moving on in favour of younger, fresher blood with their own ideas. I think Tarantino can sense this himself, because he recently made a powerful statement – after he’s made his tenth film, he plans to retire. Given that OUATIH is his NINTH film, that deadline is already looming, and we unashamed FANS of his films are understandably aghast over this turn of events. Thankfully he remains as uncompromisingly awesome a writer-director as ever, delivering another gold standard five-star flick which is also most definitely his most PERSONAL work to date, quite simply down to the fact that it’s a film ABOUT film. Sure, it has a plot (of sorts, anyway), revolving around the slow decline of the career of former TV star Rick Dalton (Leonardo Dicaprio), who languishes in increasing anonymity in Hollywood circa 1969 as his former western hero image is being slowly eroded by an increasingly hacky workload guest-starring on various syndicated shows as a succession of punching-bag heavies for the hero to wale on, while his only real friend is his one-time stunt double, Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt), a former WW2 hero with a decidedly tarnished reputation of his own; meanwhile new neighbours have moved in next door to further distract him – hot-as-shit young director Roman Polanski (Rafal Zawierucha), riding high on the success of Rosemary’s Baby, and his new wife Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie). Certainly this all drives the film, along with real-life events that involving one of the darkest crimes in modern American history, but a lot of the time the plot is largely coincidental – Quentin uses it as a springboard to wax lyrical about his very favourite subject and pay loving (if sometimes irreverently satirical) tribute to the very business he’s been indulging in with such great success since 1992. Sure, it’s also about “Helter Skelter” and the long shadow cast by Charles Manson and his band of murderous misfits, but these are largely incidental, as we’re treated to long, entertaining interludes as we follow Rick on a shoot as the bad guy in the pilot for the Lancer TV series, visit the notorious Spahn Ranch with Cliff as he’s unwittingly drawn into the lion’s den of the deadly Manson Family, join Robbie’s Tate as she watches “herself” in The Wrecking Crew, and enjoy a brilliant montage in which we follow Rick’s adventures in Spaghetti westerns (and Eurospy cinema) after he’s offered a chance to change his flagging fortunes, before the film finally builds to a seemingly inevitable, fateful conclusion that Tarantino then, in sneakily OTT Inglourious Basterds style, mischievously turns on its head with a devilish game of “What If”. The results are a thoroughly engrossing and endlessly entertaining romp through the seedier side of Hollywood and a brilliant warts-and-all examination of the craft’s inner workings that, interestingly, reveals as much about the Business today as it does about how it was way back into Golden Age the film portrays, all while delivering bucket-loads of QT’s trademark cool, swagger, idiosyncratic genius and to-die-for dialogue and character-work, and, of course, a typically exceptional all-star cast firing on all cylinders. Dicaprio and Pitt are both spectacular (Brad is endearingly taciturn, playing it wonderfully close to the vest throughout, while Leo is simply ON FIRE, delivering a mercurial performance EASILY on a par with his work on Shutter Island and The Wolf of Wall Street – could this be good enough to snag him a second Oscar?), while Robbie consistently endears us to Tate as she EFFORTLESSLY brings the fallen star back to life, and there’s an incredible string of amazing supporting turns from established talent and up-and-comers alike, from Kurt Russell, Al Pacino and a very spiky Bruce Dern to Mike Moh (in a FLAWLESS take on Bruce Lee), Margaret Qualley, Austin Butler and in particular Julia Butters as precocious child star Trudi Fraser. Packed with winning references, homages, pastiches and ingenious little in-jokes, handled with UTMOST respect for the true life subjects at all times and shot all the way through with his characteristic flair and quirky, deliciously dark sense of humour, this is cinema very much of the Old School, and EVERY INCH a Tarantino flick. With only one more film to go the implied end of his career seems much too close, but if he delivers one more like this he’ll leave behind a legacy that ANY filmmaker would be proud of.

5. CRAWL – summer 2019’s runner-up horror offering marks a rousing return to form for a genre talent who’s FINALLY delivered on the impressive promise of his early work – Alexandre Aja made a startling debut with Switchblade Romance, which led to his big break helming the cracking remake of slasher stalwart The Hills Have Eyes, but then he went SPECTACULARLY off the rails when he made the truly abysmal Piranha 3D, which I wholeheartedly regard as one of THE VERY WORST FILMS EVER MADE IN ALL OF HISTORY. He took a big step back in the right direction with the admittedly flawed but ultimately enjoyable and evocative Horns (based on the novel by Stephen King’s son Joe Hill), but it’s with this stripped back, super-tight man-against-nature survival horror that the Aja of old has TRULY returned to us. IN SPADES. Seriously, I personally think this is his best film to date – there’s no fat on it at all, going from a simple set-up STRAIGHT into a precision-crafted exercise in sustained tension that relentlessly grips right up to the end credits. The film is largely just a two-hander – Maze Runner star Kaya Scodelario plays Haley Keller, a Florida college student and star swimmer who ventures into the heart of a Category 5 hurricane to make sure her estranged father, Dave (Saving Private Ryan’s Barry Pepper), is okay after he drops off the grid. Finding their old family home in a state of disrepair and slowly flooding, she does a last minute check of the crawl-space underneath, only to discover her father badly wounded and a couple of hungry alligators stalking the dark, cramped, claustrophobic confines. With the flood waters rising and communications cut off, Haley and Dave must use every reserve of strength, ingenuity and survival instinct to keep each other alive in the face of increasingly daunting odds … even with a premise this simple, there was plenty of potential for this to become an overblown, clunky mess in the wrong hands (a la Snakes On a Plane), so it’s a genuinely great thing that Aja really is back at the height of his powers, milking every fraught and suspenseful set-piece to its last drop of exquisite piano-wire tension and putting his actors through hell without a reprieve in sight. Thankfully it’s not JUST about scares and atmosphere, though – there’s a genuinely strong family drama at the heart of the story that helps us invest in these two, Scodelario delivering a phenomenally complex performance as she peels back Haley’s layers, from stubborn pedant, through vulnerable child of divorce, to ironclad born survivor, while reconnecting with her emotionally raw, repentantly open father, played with genuine naked intensity in a career best turn from Pepper. Their chemistry is INCREDIBLY strong, making every scene a joy even as it works your nerves and tugs on your heartstrings, and as a result you DESPERATELY want to see them make it out in one piece. Not that Aja makes it easy for them – the gators are an impressively palpable threat, proper scary beasties even if they are largely (admittedly impressively executed) digital effects, while the storm is almost a third character in itself, becoming as much of an elemental nemesis as its scaly co-stars. Blessedly brief (just 87 minutes!) and with every second wrung out for maximum impact, this is survival horror at its most brutally, simplistically effective, a deliciously vicious, primal chill-ride that thoroughly rewards from start to finish. Welcome back, Mr Aja. We’ve missed you.

4. BRIGHTBURN – torpedoing Crawl right out of the water is this refreshing, revisionist superhero movie that takes one of the most classic mythologies in the genre and turns it on its head with TERRIFYING results. The basic premise is an absolute blinder – what if, when he crashed in small-town America as a baby, Superman had turned out to be a bad seed? Unsurprising, then, that it came from James Gunn, who here produces a screenplay by his brother and cousin Brian and Mark (best known for penning the likes of Journey 2: the Mysterious Island, but nobody’s perfect) and the directorial big break of his old mate David Yarovesky (whose only previous feature is obscure sci-fi horror The Hive) – Gunn is, of course, an old pro at taking classic comic book tropes and creating something completely new with them, having previously done so with HUGE success on cult indie black comedy Super and, in particular, Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy movies, and his fingerprints are ALL OVER this one too. The Hunger Games’ Elizabeth Banks (who starred in Gunn’s own directorial debut Slither) and David Denman (The Office) are Tori and Kyle Breyer, a farming couple living in Brightburn, Kansas, who are trying for a baby when a mysterious pod falls from the sky onto their land, containing an infant boy. As you’d expect, they adopt him, determined to keep his origin a secret, and for the first twelve of his life all seems perfectly fine – Brandon’s growing up into an intelligent, artistic child who loves his family. Then his powers manifest and he starts to change – not just physically (he’s impervious to harm, incredibly strong, has laser eyes and the ability to disrupt electronic devices … oh, and he can fly, too), but also in personality, as he becomes cold, distant, even cruel as he begins to demonstrate some seriously sociopathic tendencies. As his parents begin to fear what he’s becoming, things begin to spiral out of control and people start to disappear or turn up brutally murdered, and it becomes clear that Brandon might actually be something out of a nightmare … needless to say this is superhero cinema as full-on horror, Brandon’s proclivities leading to some proper nasty moments once he really starts to cut loose, and there’s no mistaking this future super for one of the good guys – he pulverises bones, shatters faces and melts skulls with nary a twitch, just the tiniest hint of a smile. It’s an astonishing performance from newcomer Jackson A. Dunn, who perfectly captures the nuanced subtleties as Brandon goes from happy child to lethal psychopath, clearly demonstrating that he’s gonna be an incredible talent in future; the two grown leads, meanwhile, are both excellent, Denman growing increasingly haunted and exasperated as he tries to prove his own son is a wrong ‘un, while Banks has rarely been better, perfectly embodying a mother desperately clinging to the idea that her son is innocent no matter how compelling the evidence becomes, and there’s quality support from Breaking Bad’s Matt Jones and Search Party’s Meredith Hagner as Brandon’s aunt and uncle, Noah and Meredith, and Becky Wahlstrom the mother of one of his school-friends, who seems to see him for what he is right from the start. Dark, suspenseful and genuinely nasty, this is definitely not your typical superhero movie, often playing like Kick-Ass’ even more twisted cousin, and there are times when it displays some of the same edgy, black-hearted sense of humour, too. In other words, it’s all very James Gunn. It’s one sweet piece of work, everyone involved showing real skill and devotion, and Yarovesky in particular proves he’ll definitely be one-to-watch in the future. There are already plans for a potential sequel, and given where this particular little superhero universe seems to be heading I think it could be something pretty special, so fair to say I can’t wait.

3. FAST & FURIOUS PRESENTS HOBBS & SHAW – it’s official, this summer’s most OTT movie is THE MOST FUN I’ve had at the cinema so far this year, a genuinely batshit crazy, pure bonkers rollercoaster ride of a film I just couldn’t get enough of, truly the perfect sum of all its baffling parts. The Fast & Furious franchise has always revelled in its extremes, as subtle as a brick and very much playing to the blockbuster, popcorn movie crowd right from the start, but it wasn’t until Fate of the Furious (yup, ridiculous title, says it all) that it really started to play to the inherent ridiculousness of its overall setup, paving the way for this first crack at a new spin-off series for the post Vin Diesel years. Needless to say this one has fully embraced the sheer ludicrousness, and director David Leitch is the perfect choice to shepherd it into the future, having previously mastered OTT action through John Wick and Atomic Blonde before helming manic screwball comedy Deadpool 2, which certainly is the strongest comparison point here – Hobbs & Shaw is every bit as loud, violent, chaotic and thoroughly irreverent, definitely playing up the inherent comic potential at the core of the material as he cranks up the humour. Dwayne Johnson and Jason Statham take centre stage now as, respectively, DSS agent Luke Hobbs and former SAS black operative Deckard Shaw, the ultimate action movie odd couple once again forced to work together to foil the bad guy and save the world from a potentially cataclysmic disaster. Specifically Brixton Lore (Idris Elba), a self-proclaimed “black superman” enhanced with cybernetic implants and genetic manipulation to turn him into the ultimate warrior, who plans to use a lethal designer supervirus to eradicate half of humanity (as supervillains tend to do), but there’s one small flaw in his plan – the virus has been stolen by Hattie Shaw (Mission: Impossible – Fallout’s Vanessa Kirby), a rogue MI6 agent who also happens to be Deckard’s sister. Got all that? Yup, the movie really is as mad as it sounds, but that’s very much part of the charm – there’s an enormous amount of fun to be had in just giving in and going along with the madness of it all, as Hobbs and the two Shaws bounce from one over-the-top, ludicrously destructive set-piece to the next, kicking plenty of arse along the way when they’re not jumping out of tall buildings or driving fast cars at ludicrous speeds in heavy traffic, and when they’re not doing that they’re bickering with enthusiasm, each exchange crackling with exquisite hate-hate chemistry and liberally laced with hilarious dialogue delivered with gleeful, fervent venom (turns out there’s few things so enjoyable a watching Johnson and Statham verbally rip each other a new one), and the two action cinema heavyweights have never been better than they are here, each bringing the very best performances of their respective careers out of each other as they vacillate, while Kirby holds her own with consummate skill that goes to show she’s got a bright future of her own. As for Idris Elba, the one-time potential future Bond deserves to be remembered as one of the all-time great screen villains ever, investing Brixton with the perfect combination of arrogant swagger and lethal menace to steal every scene he’s in while simultaneously proving he can be just as big a badass in the action stakes; Leitch also scatters a selection of familiar faces from his previous movies throughout a solid supporting cast which also includes the likes of Fear the Walking Dead’s Cliff Curtis, From Dusk Till Dawn’s Eiza Gonzalez and Helen Mirren (who returns as Deckard and Hattie’s mum Queenie Shaw), while there’s more than one genuinely brilliant surprise cameo to enjoy. As we’ve come to expect, the action sequences are MASSIVE, powered by nitrous oxide and high octane as property is demolished and vehicles are driven with reckless abandon when our protagonists aren’t engaged bruising, bone-crunching fights choreographed with all the flawless skill you’d expect from a director who used to be a professional stuntman, but this time round the biggest fun comes from the downtime, as the aforementioned banter becomes king. It’s an interesting makeover for the franchise, going from heavyweight action stalwart to comedy gold, and it’s direction I hope they’ll maintain for the inevitable follow-up – barring Fast Five, this is the best Fast & Furious to date, and a strong indicator of how it should go to keep conquering multiplexes in future. Sign me up for more, please.

2. SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME – this summer’s been something of a decompression period for fans of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, with many of us recovering from the sheer emotional DEVASTATION of the grand finale of Phase 3, Avengers: Endgame, so the main Blockbuster Season’s entry really needed to be light and breezy, a blessed relief after all that angst and loss, much like Ant-Man & the Wasp was last year as it followed Infinity War. And it is, by and large – this is as light-hearted and irreverent as its predecessor, following much the same goofy teen comedy template as Homecoming, but there’s no denying that there’s a definite emotional through-line from Endgame that looms large here, a sense of loss the film fearlessly addresses right from the start, sometimes with a bittersweet sense of humour, sometimes straight. But whichever path the narrative chooses, the film stays true to this underlying truth – there have been great and painful changes in this world, and we can’t go back to how it was before, no matter how hard we try, but then perhaps we shouldn’t. This is certainly central to our young hero’s central arc – Peter Parker (Tom Holland) is in mourning, and not even the prospect of a trip around Europe with his newly returned classmates, together with the chance to finally get close to M.J. (Zendaya), maybe even start a relationship, can entirely distract him from the gaping hole in his life. Still, he’s gonna give it his best shot, but it looks like fate has other plans for our erstwhile Spider-Man as superspy extraordinaire Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) comes calling, basically hijacking his vacation with an Avengers-level threat to deal with, aided by enigmatic inter-dimensional superhero Quentin Beck, aka Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal), who has a personal stake in the mission, but as he’s drawn deeper into the fray Peter discovers that things may not be quite as they seem. Of course, giving anything more away would of course dumps HEINOUS spoilers on the precious few who haven’t yet seen the film – suffice to say that the narrative drops a MAJOR sea-change twist at the midpoint that’s EVERY BIT as fiendish as the one Shane Black gave us in Iron Man 3 (although the more knowledgeable fans of the comics will likely see it coming), and also provides Peter with JUST the push he needs to get his priorities straight and just GET OVER IT once and for all. Tom Holland again proves his character is the most endearing teenage geek in cinematic history, his spectacular super-powered abilities and winning underdog perseverance in the face of impossible odds still paradoxically tempered by the fact he’s as loveably hopeless as ever outside his suit; Mysterio himself, meanwhile, frequently steals the film out from under him, the strong bromance they develop certainly mirroring what Peter had with Tony Stark, and it’s a major credit to Gyllenhaal that he so perfectly captures the essential dualities of the character, investing Beck with a roguish but subtly self-deprecating charm that makes him EXTREMELY easy to like, but ultimately belying something much more complex hidden beneath it; it’s also nice to see so many beloved familiar faces returning, particularly the fantastically snarky and self-assured Zendaya, Jacob Batalon (once again pure comic gold as Peter’s adorably nerdy best friend Ned), Tony Revolori (as his self-important class rival Flash Thompson) and, of course, Marisa Tomei as beloved Aunt May, as well as Jackson and Cobie Smoulders as dynamite SHIELD duo Fury and his faithful lieutenant Maria Hill, and best of all Jon Favreau gets a MUCH bigger role this time round as Happy Hogan. Altogether this is very much business as usual for the MCU, the well-oiled machine unsurprisingly turning out another near-perfect gem of a superhero flick that ticks all the required boxes, but a big part of the film’s success should be attributed to returning director Jon Watts, effectively building on the granite-strong foundations of Homecoming with the help of fellow alumni Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers on screenplay duty, for a picture that feels both comfortingly familiar and rewardingly fresh, delivering on all the required counts with thrilling action and eye candy spectacle, endearingly quirky character-based charm and a typically winning sense of humour, and plenty of understandably powerful emotional heft. And, like always, there are plenty of fan-pleasing winks and nods and revelations, and the pre-requisite mid- and post-credit teasers too, both proving to be some proper game-changing corkers. The future of the property may be in doubt, but this is still another winner from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but then was there really ever any doubt?

1. JOHN WICK CHAPTER 3 – needless to say, those who know me should be in no doubt why THIS is at the top of my list for summer 2019 – this has EVERYTHING I love in movies and more. Keanu Reeves is back in the very best role he’s ever played, unstoppable, unbeatable, un-killable hitman John Wick, who, when we rejoin him mere moments after the end of 2017’s phenomenal Chapter 2, is in some SERIOUSLY deep shit, having been declared Incommunicado by the High Table (the all-powerful ruling elite who run this dark and deadly shadowy underworld) after circumstances forced him to gun down an enemy on the grounds of the New York Continental Hotel (the inviolable sanctuary safe-house for all denizens of the underworld), as his last remaining moments of peace tick away and he desperately tries to find somewhere safe to weather the initial storm. Needless to say the opening act of the film is ONE LONG ACTION SEQUENCE as John careers through the rain-slick backstreets of New York, fighting off attackers left and right with his signature brutal efficiency and unerring skill, perfectly setting up what’s to come – namely a head-spinning, exhausting parade of spectacular set pieces that each put EVERY OTHER offering in any other film this year to shame. Returning director Chad Stahelski again proves that he’s one of the very best helmsmen around for this kind of stuff, delivering FAR beyond the call on every count as he creates a third entry to a series that continues to go from strength to strength, while Keanu once again demonstrates what a phenomenal screen action GOD he is, gliding through each scenario with poise, precision and just the right balance of brooding charm and so-very-done-with-this-shit intensity and a thoroughly enviable athletic physicality that really does put him on the same genre footing as Tom Cruise. As with the first two chapters, what plot there is is largely an afterthought, a facility to fuel the endless wave of stylish, wince-inducing, thoroughly exhilarating violent bloodshed, as John cuts another bloody swathe through the underworld searching for a way to remove the lethal bounty from his head while an Adjudicator from the High Table (Orange Is the New Black’s Asia Kate Dillon) arrives in New York to settle affairs with Winston (Ian McShane), the manager of the New York Continental, and the Bowery King (Laurence Fishburne) for helping John create this mess in the first place. McShane and Fishburne are both HUGE entertainment in their fantastically nuanced large-than-life roles, effortlessly stealing each of their scenes, while the ever-brilliant Lance Reddick also makes a welcome return as Winston’s faithful right-hand Charon, the concierge of the Continental, who finally gets to show off his own hardcore action chops when trouble arrives at their doorstep, and there are plenty of franchise newcomers who make strong impressions here – Dillon is the epitome of icy imperiousness, perfectly capturing the haughty superiority you’d expect from a direct representative of the High Table, Halle Berry gets a frustratingly rare opportunity to show just how seriously badass she can be as former assassin Sofia, the manager of the Casablanca branch of the Continental and one of John’s only remaining allies, Game of Thrones’ Jerome Flynn is smarmy and entitled as her boss Berrada, and Anjelica Houston is typically classy as the Director, the ruthless head of New York’s Ruska Roma (John’s former “alma mater”, basically). The one that REALLY sticks in the memory, though, is Mark Dacascos, finally returning to the big time after frustrating years languishing in lurid straight-to-video action dreck and lowbrow TV hosting duties thanks to a BLISTERING turn as Zero, a truly brilliant semi-comic creation who routinely runs away with the film – he’s the Japanese master ninja the Adjudicator tasks with dispensing her will, a thoroughly lethal killer who may well be as skilled as our hero, but his deadliness is amusingly tempered by the fact that he’s also a total nerd who HERO WORSHIPS John Wick, adorably geeking out whenever their paths cross. Their long-gestating showdown provides a suitably magnificent climax to the action, but there’s plenty to enjoy in the meantime, as former stuntman Stahelski and co keep things interestingly fluid as they constantly change up the dynamics and add new elements, from John using kicking horses in a stable and knives torn out of display cases in a weaponry museum to dispatch foes on the fly, through Sofia’s use of attack dogs to make the Moroccan portion particularly nasty and a SPECTACULAR high octane sequence in which John fights katana-wielding assailants on speeding motorcycles, to the film’s UNDISPUTABLE highlight, an astounding fight in which John takes on Zero’s disciples (including two of the most impressive guys from The Raid movies, Cecep Arif Rahman and Yayan Ruhian) in (and through) an expansive chamber made up entirely of glass walls and floors. Altogether then, this is business as usual for a franchise that’s consistently set the bar for the genre as a whole, an intensely bruising, blissfully blood-drenched epic that cranks its action up to eleven, shot with delicious neon-drenched flair and glossy graphic novel visual excess, a consistently inspired exercise in fascinating world-building that genuinely makes you want to live among its deadly denizens (even though you probably wouldn’t live very long). The denouement sets things up for an inevitable sequel, and I’m not at all surprised – right from the first film I knew the concept had some serious legs, and it’s just too good to quit yet. Which is just how I like it …

#movies 2019 #captive state #godzilla king of the monsters #dark phoenix #fast color #once upon a time in hollywood #crawl #crawl movie #brightburn #hobbs and shaw #spider man far from home #John Wick Chapter 3 #awesome sauce

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untilthenextencore · 5 years

Text

Kashmir Pt.1

As usual forever editing~.

Enjoy~!

...

Wandering blithely through his castle Robert sighed. It was now just past teatime & Lord Kidderminster had exhausted just about every form of entertainment that he could think to occupy himself, his mind or his time with. His affairs were all but done for the day and yet the day itself was far from done. And since he had decided to extend his morning ride earlier that day, even that beloved pasttime was off the table for the time being.

He had spent the day with his old friend Jimmy, or as he was known in the public sphere Lord Heston of Middlesex. Yet the mercurial older gentleman was not much in the mood for sunny pleasantries - when was he ever~?! - certainly not after he & Robert took their conversation into the library where it was then cut short by the fellow Count picking up a hefty, rather ancient looking tome off of one shelf & becoming quickly invested. When Robert jokingly asked if Jimmy would like to be left alone with his "new precious little thing" he was surprised - only initially - to find that the answer was a yes. And so he left "Old Blackbeard" to his own ever mysterious devices.

Suffice to say that Lord Heston's company left a lot to be desired that day...

Gazing out his window for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, Robert was stunned to find that the light rain that had been falling for some time, had recently ceased, giving the surrounding fields an almost dreamy haze. Mystical. The light from the sun peeking through & refracting through the lingering haze, shattering into shards of color that reached out into the misty air.

Through the mists Robert saw movement by a nearby pond. Intruders! Hooligans! Drunkards! No... Wait... Women... Girls in fact!... Young girls at that!... Two of them... A blonde & a brunette... Both dressed in while brief slip dresses until all of a sudden one wasn't. "Oh!" Robert gasped at the sight. She slipped out of her slip dress, laying it on the grass nearby as she dipped into the pond squealing a bit at the cold & then motioning for her dark haired friend to do the same. Robert watched the scene with rapt attention unaware that his lips were parting with the rasped request. "Oh, please God, yes!"

Indeed, outside at the pond the young strawberry blonde Sibella or Sibby was indeed trying to get her young dark haired friend Charissa or Rissa to join her. "C'mon, Rissa!" She laughed, splashing about both to acclimate to the cold water & to tease her shyer friend. They had started the day in gauzy white dresses with crowns made of little pink and white flowers. Her dress had since been discarded after the freak midday shower, both of their flower crowns bleeding petals into their hair.

Rissa gazed warily at her bold young friend, now as naked as the day she was born. She folded her right arm across her midsection, hand braced against the crook of her elbow. "I don't know, Sibby... This is an awfully big place here... Whoever owns this place probably owns this little pond thing too. Get dressed. Maybe we should go?"

Sibby just scoffed." Oh my God! You're such a scaredy cat! You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?" Rissa gazed at Sibby in confusion, leading to another incredulous scoff from the older girl.

"This place is Wolverhampton Manor! A bit away from Wolverhampton true but it is so named due to that being a favored haunt of the owner of this manor, Count K also known as Count Robert Plant, Robert Anthony Plant Lord Kidderminster of Worcestershire. His dearest friends included a driver who came into a title from a distant relative Count John Henry Bonham, Lord Clewer of Berkshire. And the most notorious rakehell of his day Count James Patrick Page Lord Heston of Middlesex."

The list of names and titles and places made Rissa's head spin, prompting her to exclaim with an incredulous laugh. "How do you know these things?!"

Sibby just shrugged. "I read about it in study hall once. Fastest I've ever gone through a history book in my life! Shame they're all gone now. From what I've heard they were gorgeous men the lot of them. But a lot of rumors surround them all. Things you wouldn't believe!"

"I bet." Rissa laughed. "What else could get you to read a history book so fast?"

This made Sibby laugh. "Yeah. Well, c'mon! You don't even have to undress if you don't want to. Just hop in!"

"Oh, all right!" Rissa sighed through her laughter. At last the ever irrepressible Sibby had won!

At last Rissa dipped into the pond, inching in until it was at chest height, the same as dear Sibby. She shivered intermittently as she acclimated to the chilly water herself before casting a quick look at her surroundings, musing with a wry grin that she hoped veiled her still frazzled nerves. "I could swear I saw the curtains up in the manor shift a little. In a room or two. Not sure."

Sibby just grinned. "You just hit one of the rumors I've heard on the head!"

"What?" Rissa hushed.

"Well..." Sibby looked around herself as if she were sharing a secret in a crowded room & not the open field bereft of anyone but them that they were in. She then leant in & spoke also in a hush, this one a bit more excited. "They say that the Counts were all part of this thing called the Order of Kashmir..."

...

Back in the library Jimmy was laid down on the exquisite bearskin rug, the heavy, cracked, leather-bound volume beside him. His eyes were closed, all of his senses were focused on the room around him.

Shifting was a difficult skill to master, even with his centuries of experience in magick, & required full concentration, & full synchronisation with the magician’s environment. One had to taste, scent, touch, see & hear the magick in the air. See with the heart & the mind, see with internal eyes. The desired shape must appear as real before the magician as his own hands before his own eyes.

It was fiercely complicated, & shifting into the Hermit came with its own set of dangers. The spirit of the Hermit was notoriously possessive of magicians & querents, & if not approached respectfully, humbly, or honestly, could be killed trying to divine his wisdom.

He could feel the shift beginning, the air taking in true texture around him, wrapping him in, binding the consciousness of Lord Heston in place, allowing the rest of him to merge with the Hermit, physically & mentally.

When he next opened his eyes, he could feel the changes, the new form. The Hermit craved sunlight, needing to regenerate his form, leading him to the ceiling-length window, surveying the now-damp meadows sparkling in the sunlight.

A darting flash near the pond, a subsequent splash drew their eye. Two young ladies splashing about in the sun-warming water, their giggles echoing even to them in the library.

Golden faerie maidens. Theirs the purest of magicks, the strongest potential of the senses.

Both of them - the Hermit & Lord Heston - felt deep stirrings at the sight of the splashing maids, one stirring at the magickal pull of the girls, the other stirring at the more erotic potential of such youth & beauty.

...

Robert could hardly tear himself away from the window in his room as he watched the girls frolic & splash about. Both of them were finally in the water, laughing & talking, though he could not quite make out what was being said. Both young ladies were, he could tell, in the ripeness of health & youth, all curves & soft skin, reminding him of his own glowing memories of springtime swims in the pond, as well as the interludes that often followed such swims in later years.

He licked at his dry lips, considering how he might entice them to explore the grounds further. He wondered if they’d discovered his apple & lemon orchards yet... Both were in full bloom, both his apples & lemons deliciously ripe & sweet... The scents were legendary for perfuming the countryside in high spring & summer - if the girls had not found it, he knew they surely would soon. Perhaps then, he might introduce himself to them...

...

"Order of Kashmir?" Came the reply from Rissa along with another curious look.

"Yes. They called it the Order of Kashmir. A list of nobility at the time - a relatively small list but a list no less - all were said to have joined this secret order that gave them powers or something. Vampires. Immortal spirits or the like. They say people still spot them around the grounds and areas of their old Manors, Castles & Haunts. All around the world there are sightings of the Counts and others said to be in the Order. Kashmirites some call them. Kashmirite Sightings. They're in all the papers. Especially gossip rags though."

"The same ones that talk of UFOs, Big Foot & the Loch Ness Monster?" Charissa snickered.

"Seriously! Though I have to admit after reading about the Order I was kind of hoping that in making this trip that we could maybe have a chance at catching... At finding... At sighting a few Kashmirites... Look!" She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocketbook nearby. It had a picture - a collage - of the Kashmirites. Messrs. Lords. Page. Plant. Bonham. Jones. Coverdale. Beck. The list went on. Sibby then showed Charissa her latest books that she had been carrying on the subject. One was a rundown on the lives of the mysterious Lords. The other was on the Order of the Kashmir as a whole & Kashmirites as a subject. Charissa was nothing less than stunned. "Well! I'll be darned!"

"Mmm-hmm..." Sibby nodded. "They say the ringleader of sorts or at least the one the deepest into the order, higher up in the ranks or something, was Rakehell Page. He was said to be like a wizard or something!"

Charissa couldn't help but laugh at this now, prompting Sibby's squealed reply. "I'm serious! Seriously! Seriously, Rissa! He--..."

Whatever her next words were to be as a loud clap of thunder sounded, emanating seemingly from above the Manor as another sheet of rain began to fall over the grounds. This prompted the two young girls to shriek & scurry to climb out of the pond. Sibby hurried into her dress. Charissa helped Sibby gather her books. Sibby in return helped Rissa out of her dress so the two of them could wring it out, where she then began to help her friend back into it. She had only barely managed to get the dress to cover the peaks of Charissa's breasts when...

Just then...

A male voice called out to them...

"Well, well, well... What's all this now?..."

The two girls whipped their heads in the direction of the voice where they were met by the sight of a tall, regal looking gentleman all flowing blonde curls, turquoise jewelry & long flowing cape draped over his shoulders. Steel blue eyes pierced them both as dimples popped both near the corners of his upwardly curving mouth & in the center of his chin as he teased them with a wry Cheshire Cat grin. "To what do I owe this extreme pleasure?" His eyes raked over their bodies with those words. Sibby's with her dress clinging to her in places & Rissa with hers hardly on, barely over her nipples revealing the expanse of creamy curved flesh below. This she remedied quickly, hurriedly taking over from Sibby & pulling her dress back down in a huff, face burning with the heat of both his gaze & her subsequent blush.

When the girls couldn't manage to do more in response to his question than gape, stammer & stumble over their words, a great many of which were "Um... Uh... Well... I... We... You see... I, uh--... Ahem..." He just chuckled, holding two other capes out to them. "Come now, loves. It's frightful out here." He crossed over & draped the rich, warm fabrics over their trembling forms as he draped an arm around each of them, leading them ahead towards the door. "Let's go inside & see if we can't get you warmed up."

The girls nodded shyly, not sure of what to do past that. But as they neared the door to the Manor, Rissa turned towards Sibby & hushed one word where only she could hear, motioning almost imperceptibly to the tall, striking, dimpled blonde gentleman in between them. "Nessie~..."

...

The storm had come again, in earnest this time, the thunder drowning out the pained gurgling scream from the library. Both the Hermit & Lord Heston had been stirred by the sight of the girls, Lord Heston the most, & had summarily lost control of the shift, causing a physically painful, albeit temporary, rending of the shared consciousness.

The Hermit retreated further inward to maintain balance, as Lord Heston gathered himself in kind, the pain fading, but the memory keen.

The brunette had been worth such a blow, however. Lush, sweet softness beneath such a delicate frock... the unexpected surprise of her innocent nakedness stirring Heston to half-hardness...

And the wretched timing of the lord of the manner! Scooping up both maidens in one fell swoop, undoubtedly promising them sweet porridge & hot tea, promising to dry their frocks at his fireside, as the three of them romped & frolicked in his bed. No doubt that by nightfall, Robert would have two new beauties to count among his wives & lovers, fully turned & waiting for their own feasts.

He would have damned The Hermit himself, had he been able to do so easily. No, he had chosen to take this form today, this hour, not knowing the girls had been on the estate. No, if he desired one, he & Robert would simply have to share. And indeed the shyer, dark-haired beauty already haunted their mind, awakened a delicious need in Heston’s entire being, & intrigued the Hermit’s sensitive intuition. Both of them desired to see the girl, & they would do so, whether Robert liked it or not.

...

Robert led the girls through the door & into the palatial manor which was lit by a litany of candles in in little holders tucked into nooks carved in the wall, chandeliers, candelabras and candlesticks everywhere. It gave the whole place a warm, inviting glow along with a warmth that was only amplified by the fire roaring in the fireplace. He had large, fluffy towels laid out for them of which he grabbed two, handing one to each girl. "Here you are, loves. Care for a spot of tea? Might help you warm up after getting caught in such a dreadful storm."

"Thank you." Came the girl's response in unison. Both were standing still gazing around at their environs in complete shock. Charissa was the first to move slightly, only to pat herself dry with the towel. A slight moan fell from her lips at the feel of the softness of the fabric against her skin, followed by another from Sibby when she did the same.

Robert couldn't help but to grin at that, dimples popping as he laughed. "Feelin better already, eh? Well come, sit." He removed his cloak as well as those of the ladies, chuckling as they promptly covered themselves with their towels, draping them over their shoulders & carefully perching on more towels laid out on a settee opposite him & his large stately chair. He went about pouring their tea to their specifications which they mumbled out while still in a state of shock about it all. It was all very innocent, their surroundings very comforting & their host was nothing if not charming but they still couldn't help but stare at him openly, try as they might to hide it. It led Robert to perk an eyebrow at the two maidens as he handed them their cups. "Hmmm? What? What is it? Is there something on my face? I certainly hope not?" He teased with a smile, feeling around his cheeks, patting them playfully.

"No!" Again the response came in unison. Before they traded off every few words. Sibby first. "No, it's... It's not that... It's... It's just..." And then Charissa. "...She thinks you look like someone... Someone quite familiar..."

"Oh?" Robert tilted his head. "Someone you know?" And then his eyes fell to the books clutched in their little hands. Ah-ha!

"I see... Interested in the Kashmirites are you? Is that how you found yourselves here? Seeking things related to the Order? Counts? Count Kidderminster? Lord Kidderminster and all?"

The replies were now mixed. Sibby was seemingly contrite, ashamed at her inquisitive nature, her nosiness. She dropped her head & nodded, admitting in a small voice. "Yes..." Charissa was nothing if not firm however, shaking her head. "No!" Then taking her contrite friend's admission into account she relayed the following to the now snickering blonde man. "She was. I just came as a tagalong so she wouldn't be alone."

Robert nodded thoughtfully, still with a trace of the teasing smirk on his lips. "I see. And would that be who you think I resemble by any chance, dears? Ah! Now that I think of it... I've never even asked your name! How dreadfully rude of me! Please forgive me... Praytell what are your names, ladies?"

He finally got his answer as to who the maidens - who he was fighting the urge to lick his lips as he took in the sight of them in those damp, filmy white frocks which clung to them just so - were. It was only fair that he caught their names since he was currently contemplating them as prospective bed partners. He got a "Charissa." From the shy brunette. And a "Sibella." From the curious blonde. The brunette growing curious herself, only enough to ask the obvious. "And you are~?..."

Robert couldn't help but grin at that. As his grin peaked, another clap of thunder sounded startling the two girls into jumping into each other's arms with a shriek. Robert felt his urges rising. That was the cause of the thunder. His deep seated urges were awakening to them. Senses on high. He hungered for them. Both of them. Their innocence. Their energy. Their pureness. Pure energy. Purity both of heart & of spirit. It intoxicated him. He swore he could smell it.

He got a scent of peaches and cherries from them. Mingled with that was a hint of apples and lemons. Signs that they belonged here? Were meant to be here? He wasn't exactly sure. He'd worry about that later. Maybe he'd ask Pagey later.

But wait...

PAGEY!...

The storm...

The way it started...

Grew so intense so soon...

Centering over his house...

His castle...

High above the one tower in the center...

The one that contained the library...

The library that contained Pagey & that one mysterious tome of his...

The library which was now emitting strange energies to him...

Pagey always had a strange energy to him...

But this...

This here...

This...

This was different...

This was...

This was like Pagey but on a whole new level!

He couldn't put his finger on it but the vibrations that Pagey was now emitting were strange... Too strange...

Even for him...

And it all started with the arrival of these girls...

Thinking back he realized the window from the library also faced out towards the pond that the girls had frolicked in...

Had Pagey seen them too?

He found himself laughing internally at the question. A bittersweet laugh that turned into a low growl of a single word spoken under his breath as he grit his teeth & balled his fist up, sending back an energy of his own, protective, defensive & yes even a bit greedy towards his newfound houseguests.

The word. Simple. It was a place.

A place that he wished a certain dark haired friend of his were still residing in just then. Preferably locked away in a different tower in a different castle at that. Or even dungeon knowing his reputation.

"Heston..."

#jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #untilthenextencore #robert plant fanfic #robert plant fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfic

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troominmoll · 5 years

Note

"i feel like being bitter and listing off all the things that the 90s show changed about the original stories" as a relative newcomer to moomin-related stuff, i'm curious... what *did* the 90s show change??

*rubs hands because I love being insufferable*

(Minor disclaimer that this is mostly done in good nature. I understand almost every show that is adapted from existing content is gonna change stuff to suit their story-telling needs. But I am annoyed that some who praise the 90s anime think the new series is bad simply for doing things differently when that show, and nearly every one prior to it, has also put their own spin on things.)

There are 24 episodes of Tanoshii Moomin Ikka (plus a movie) based on the books by Tove Jansson, and I think 11 based on the comic strips she wrote. It would take a long time to cover every single detail in every single episode, so I am mainly going to discuss those that have changes I find more significant, disappointing, personally distressing, or just plain baffling.

(A second disclaimer: I have not read any entire comic stories past the point where Tove stopped working on them. There are some episodes based on strips created exclusively by her brother Lars, The Vampire and Artists in Moominvalley being two examples. I will be skipping those, as well as Bouken Nikki episodes, as I have yet to thoroughly watch each one on account of so few being based on Tove’s work and the headaches they induce lmao. Nitpicks from fans who have read Lars’ strips in full are welcome.)

Now without further ado, let the fussing begin~

01 Spring in Moominvalley: This follows the basic storyline from the first two chapters of Finn Family, but with some notable changes. Snufkin at this point woke up from hibernation along with the rest of the family, Little My had yet to be introduced, and Snork - a child like the rest of the main cast - lived with his sister and the rest of the kids in the Moominhouse. The entire subplot of him being an inventor is merely an invention of the anime.

Moomintroll, in the book, spends a lot more time in transformed body. As he believes his friends are playing a new game when they fail to recognize him, he makes up a story about being “The King of California”. He repeatedly pretends to insult Moomin (himself), and in a touching display of devotion his own friends beat him up to defend his honour.

02 The Magic Hat: Continuing on with a scene based on the later half of chapter 2, we see Moomin rescue Snorkmaiden from the Ant Lion, and along with Snufkin, decide to trap him in the magical hat. In the original story however, Moomin and Snork trap the him. This was rather unprovoked, though Moomin cites a moment from a previous book (read all about it in The Moomins and the Great Flood!) where the Ant Lion allegedly kicked sand in Mamma’s eyes. The gang then takes the hat back inside for more “experiments”, and after making a mess, the adults decide it best to dispose of the hat in the river.

Much like in the story, the hat is soon recovered by Moomin and Snufkin, though a chapter where they hide it in a cave and and end up frightening the Muskrat (who uses it as a shelf for his dentures) is absent. It then continues to the scene where Moominhouse is briefly overgrown with plants. Aside from this happening sooner than it did in the book, and the premature appearance of the Hobgoblin, and the missing Mameluke hunt, and the part where all the children play in the jungle, I think it’s pretty true to that chapter!

03 Discovery of a Wrecked Ship: First off, I wanna say I’m mostly including this episode on my list just to make it clear that Snufkin’s random sexist comments towards Snorkmaiden and Little My are missing from the book. There is a chapter where him and Moomin go ambling up some rocks, but “the girls” are thankfully absent from this scene.

So then they discover an abandoned boat and the rest of the episode is padded with scenes where they repair it. A charming spectacle, I’m sure, but also absent from the book as the boat they find is already in pristine condition. Shame that Snufkin never got to share his idea for the ship’s name, (it was Lurking Wolf aha ha ha) but that might be for the best.

07 The Suitcase: As seen in episode 06, Thingumy and Bob arrived in Moominvalley. They bring with them stolen goods and and the mother of Grimace, who seeks to recover said goods. Snufkin, once again letting everyone down, decides that a gentle female should speak to them about the contents of their suitcase and soon Snorkmaiden is assigned to the task. Instead the book features a trial sequence, which really helps hammer in the metaphor. Everyone takes part and Sniff acts as prosecutor of behalf of the Groke, who appears and is willing to trade the treasure in exchange for the magical top hat (NOT a pretty scallop).

08 The Hobgoblin’s Magic: Moomin hears that his wondrous wooden woman has washed up on the shores of Moominvalley. But when he rushes to the beach, he finds nothing but sand and disappointment waiting for him. This sends him spiraling into a brief yet no less deep depression which is cured only when Thingumy and Bob share their contents of their secret suitcase. The novel was much more reasonable however. He was saddened by the loss of Snufkin who had skipped the valley for the first time, promising (as we all know) to return on the first day of Spring.

And then there is a fabulous summer party thrown by the family after the recovery of Moominmamma’s handbag. This part is true to the story, at the very least. But the party in the book is much more fantastical, with dancing, music (from America of all places), punch served in darling sea shells, and everyone - right down to the tiniest forest critter - is invited, and gets to make a wish when the magic man arrives.

09 An Invisible Friend / 10 The Invisible Child: I wouldn’t say that these episodes, featuring the famous character from Tales of Moominvalley, have any life-ruining changes from the original story. But since no episode is complete without a bit of drama, or a pointless cameo from Snufkin, a scene where Stinky traps Ninny with the intention of having her assist in his robberies has been written in. And Little My’s comment regarding the aunt in the English dub, where she states “I hope you told her she hurt Ninny’s feelings!” seems uncharacteristically gentle in comparison to her asking if Too-Ticky “bashed her head in”.

13 The Last Dragon on Earth: As mentioned in the entry above, some episodes will include new subplots or elements for the sake of drama and action. This episode is another example of that, but otherwise it has only minor tweaks. Snufkin states that “the cards” have told him he should leave Moominvalley early if he catches x number of such-and-such a fish, but that storyline is exclusive to this show.

14 Our Neighbor is a Touch Teacher: This episode is based on snippets of the comic strip “Moominmamma’s Maid”, but scraps the storyline containing the titular character from the strip, which is nearly all of it. Instead, it is entirely focused on the Moomin’s new neighbor, Mrs Fillyjonk, a strict and uptight mother of three.

After the Moomin’s welcome party leaves Mrs Fillyjonk fearing for her life, she forbids her children from playing with the Moomin brood. They sneak away anyway. A bunch of death defying stunts happen, courtesy of Stinky. Mrs Fillyjonk plans to leave the valley, but the kids have none of that. This is almost an original story, save for the existence of a party.

16 A Close Encounter with Aliens: Once again we have an episode based on the comics. It follows the basic plotline of the Moomins caring for a stranded Martian child. But a lot of wackiness was cut for time, including invisible Moomins pranking valley residents, a flying fire brigade, and Moomin shrinking down with Mamma, who later bites a Fillyjonk child. Time used for an inserted chase scene with Stinky (one of many across the tv series) feels could’ve been better spent on some of the fun stuff mentioned in my previous sentence.

17 A Change of Air: And yet another comic-based episode, this one taken from “Moomin and Family Life”, which happens to be my personal favourite comic so this analysis may sound bitterer than others. The episode cuts the beginning of the strip, where we see a lonely parent-less Moomin contemplate suicide before being reunited with his long lost Moominmamma and Moominpappa. The comic is a completely different entity from the books and adjustments must be made, so this decision is understandable. But the following choice? Less so.

The episode instead starts with Pappa complaining that nothing exciting ever happens, and I won’t remind him of the events from episode 16 because everyone brings that up. Stinky overhears plans of doing something to entertain him, and during the night makes a set of giant footprints leading to the sea. Whereas in the comic strip, the “giant” prints are innocently left by Snufkin who was wearing boot too big for he gotdamn feet. He nearly perishes for this grave mistake.

Strips where Moominmamma and Moominpappa hang out in a cave, Moomin sheds a few tears tears, and Snufkin offers some half hearted words of comfort provide a basis for following scenes in the episode. But antics with Moomin and friends trying to foil Aunt Jane, who angrily travelled to the Moominhouse after being pranked by Pappa, are sadly missing.

24 Hurry Up Snufkin: The part where Snufkin meets and later names the forest creature Teetywoo, is based on the short story “The Spring Tune”. There are many potential gripes one can have about such a brief scene.

A lot of the dialogue between the two characters reflects what is said in the short story, but what the episode sorely lacks are Snufkin’s feelings. Gone are his shouts and snaps, his grumpiness about being disturbed, his regret when he lashes out, his desperation to find Teetywoo again. His famous line “I’ll come when it suits me” is “cried violently”, making me wonder how it ever became an inspirational quote (oh wait I know). In favour of portraying Snufkin as cool and chill, the anime sometimes ends up making him look more like an emotionless bump on a log.

The plotline of Snufkin being late to return because he is trying to compose a new song has been cut, on account of either his lack of talent or lack of music budgeting.

25 The Lighthouse / 26 The Day the Lighthouse Lit Up: These episodes actually combine elements of two different stories: the comic strip “Moomin and the Sea”, and the similarly titled novel “Moominpappa at Sea”. Lacking most of the typical shenanigans from the strips, or bleak themes from the book, these episodes feel more like a slightly above-average family outing.

The episodes seems to lean more towards the comic, where Moominpappa takes on the job of lighthouse keeper as inspiration for his writing, and Moomin is terrorised by an equally frightened ghost. Too-Ticky unfortunately is missing from the episodes, alone with the scenes where she shares some spooky suggestions with the spectre, and where Snorkmaiden fakes her own drowning to help Moomin feel brave.

Borrowing from the books, we meet both the former lighthouse keeper and a little boy named Toft, who apparently got very lost on his way to auditions for a “Moominvalley in November” episode. The episode scraps the element from the book of Moominpappa making the entire family miserable because he has some deluded fantasy about protecting and providing for them on his own, as well as a heart wrenching subplot involving the Groke, which I will not spoil for those considering reading it. But know this: there will be tears.

28 The Floating Theatre / 29 The Lost Children / 30 Midsummer: This three-parter is based on “Moominsummer Madness”, which is kind of an interesting book. Taking place smack dab in the middle of the series, we see it move away from the more lighthearted tones of the early stories, and begin the shift towards the less fantastical and more serious themes of the later books. But it isn’t quite there yet. And being written around the time Tove still worked on the comic series, some parts of the book would not seem out of place if drawn in her strips.

The most noticeably difference between the original story and anime episodes is the change of the cast. With the number of characters and subplots happening at once in the book, it was inevitable that some unlucky sod would get scrapped from the story - three sods in fact, by the names of Mymble, Misabel, and Whomper. Sniff is inserted into the story, and references to Mr Fillyjonk, the stage manager and Emma’s late husband, are removed.

Snufkin and My’s subplot is changed and cut quite short, beginning with the element of the two not knowing each other. His assault on the park keeper seems to be done for the sake of rescuing the children more or less imprisoned in the park, but book Snufkin simply took joy in breaking the law. The episode lacks great scenes of him trying to take care of the 24 little children; doing things like making silly noises, threatening to drown himself, and exposing them to second hand smoke.

With a small handful of characters missing, the plot of the play Moominpappa writes greatly differs from the book. And say goodbye to the ending chapter, where the reunited Moomin family flees the police and gets chased all the way back to Moominvalley.

45 Moomin Builds a House: This episode is based on the comic of the same title. Although it cuts the story quite short, what is left in is relatively close to the original. Except for the insertion of Snufkin, but I am not offended because that adorable laugh made his appearance worthwhile.

59, 63, 68 Adventures of Moominpappa: And here we get to the episodes based on “The Exploits of Moominpappa”. The first few changes I’d like to point out are a little less notable. As Mrs Fillyjonk was already more established in the show, the Hemulen aunt becomes a Fillyjonk. Edward is a silent character, the Nibling child that Pappa and co look after is absent, and everyone gets real ugly colour palettes.

Next, as you may know, the original books don’t really follow a solid timeline and canon changes in between stories. So in an attempt to make more sense, the young Mymble that Moomin meets is Little My’s mother, rather than her sister. But strangely, Moominpappa’s other friends are no longer the parents of Sniff and Snufkin. Why those two were still so enraptured by listening to his story is unclear.

Comet in Moominland: Finishing off the list is a movie based on the story of the same name. Being the first in what is considered the “main” book series, there are bound to be differences in how characters are written. But there is no difference here more worth talking about than Snufkin.

As I’ve already mentioned before, he is portrayed in the anime as more relaxed. He is the older and most mature member of Moomin’s group of friends, and tends to be reserved in expressing his emotions. For the sake of presenting Snufkin as a responsible figure, he never teaches the gang his favourite game: rolling boulders down cliffs, an activity which almost results in multiple casualties. We never hear his story about disrespecting a police officer, and his subsequent prison break.

But Snufkin in the earlier books is very much a child like the rest of the main cast. He is playful and talkative, being described as bringing “gaiety” to their adventure, and is always thrilling his friends with epic tales from his travels. He is not shy about expressing himself, he is shown to have some sadness about having no parents and cries his wee heart out upon sees the dried up ocean.

Other changes may seem more innocuous by comparison, snipping a party scene and river raft ride, and including Little My. But with the lack of a noticeable personality for a key character, and some of the action scenes, much of the movie just feels like a boring hike home.

In short, yeah. As you can see I’m pretty passionate on this subject, especially when it comes to Snufkin’s characterisation. Anyone who wishes to discourse Moomins with me is welcome.

#ok most of this was meant to be written funny and it was fun for me #but you can probably tell which points i got more carried away #there were a few episodes i wouldve covered ex aunt jane but i dont enjoy them as much and couldnt make their entries funny #moomin #mine #Anonymous

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lilyths-blog1 · 5 years

Note

♦ : ^ ). You can set this in our normal verse or write that lil scene I told you about that coulda happened in America.

Intimacy Meme. — (( @rinadealga

♦: Slow dancing.

The ear numbing cacophony of overzealous shouting, singing, and overall merriment echoed throughout the halls of the White House; sounding so strongly within the now mess hall that the walls quivered. The atmosphere was electrified with excitement and anticipation . . Only causing the crowd of celts to grow louder and more rowdy by the second as the aura gradually grew stronger.

They were celebrating; Celebrating the final approaching battles, completely assured that with the power of a grail, their beastly king, and his newfound magus that the said battles were already won. A grave mistake, perhaps, for any other battalion . . But even SHE knew that they were not overestimating themselves. It was entirely possible that they would win . . Against Chaldea, the savior of humanity, and likely every battle to come after that. They would win here, and the world she’d left behind would end in flames.

Rubied hues stare out, over hundreds of exclaiming, joyous heads . . Scanning the groups and crowds below her balcony perch as a realization hits her. It does not strike her with force as it should have . . It is not the mind shattering, gut wrenching thought that it should have been. It’s subtle, and simply put, and by the time it even becomes a true thought, she’s already accepted it.

Her mind had wandered for a moment, and now as it returns, she brushes her fingers along the balconies marble rails before walking from it; Leaving the bustling main hall behind her as she walks into the somewhat darkened presidential suite.

The heels upon her feet click softly as she moves to take a seat upon the side of the bed, reminding her of the dull ache they’ve caused upon her soles. With a sigh, she reaches down and removes them, bending down and placing the pair to the side . . As her head raises once again, a glint of silver catches her eyes, and she pauses.

Slowly sitting to her full height, a satin gloved hand reaches out, fingers gingerly curling about the chipped music box on the nightstand. Staring down at it for a moment, her free hand reaches for the small key about her neck . . It had never worked before. Clearly broken when they had found it during their excursion . . A peace of junk with no use to anyone any longer, left to ruin along with the building about it as the war raged on. Naught but fancy scrap metal now . . And she had only been allowed to keep it back then because she had promised to keep her mouth shut.

It had never worked before, just a small chunk of wood and metal that shouldn’t have been able to bring joy to anyone anymore; Completely useless. So . . There was no point in trying to play with it anymore. Her free hand drops back to her lap now, eyes dimming as she stares down at the music box, thumb idly pawing along its sides.

No . . No. She should try again. Maybe some sort of miracle would occur and this time it would work? Her hand once again reaches for the key, removing it from about her neck and sticking it into the music box’s keyhole. With a deep inhale, Selena twists the key slowly . . Around, and around, until she hears a soft ‘click,’ indicating that it could be turnt no further. Holding her breath, she slides the key from the hole . . Soft mechanical whirs come from within, and her eyes light up seeing the top of the box slowly lift open . . Revealing a miniature ballerina upon a spring. A singular musical note resounds from the box, and the ballerina begins to turn. Ah, was it actually going to—?

But no. It falls silent after that. Excitement immediately dissipating, Selena places the music box back down upon the nightstand with a defeated exhale.

The sound of the door opening behind her alarms the woman, though she knows by the sound of the footsteps that follow that she has no need to be startled. With her eyes glued upon the music box, she waits for him to speak.

‘It was your idea, remember? So . . Why aren’t you out there?’

It had been her idea; Some sort of get together . . One last, large shindig of sorts to raise morale . . And it had certainly worked judging by the ever present buzzing from the main hall. It was a party, and everyone was enjoying it, except her. So, why wasn’t she out there?

Sighing, Selena puts on a half-smile, glancing back at the mad king over her shoulder, “ . . And YOU’RE their king. Shouldn’t YOU be down there too?” When had she grown so bold? How could she sit there and speak to carnage made man with such cheek? She didn’t remember when the feelings had shifted . . But she did know, that had she been anyone else, she wouldn’t have been sitting there intact for much longer.

Meeting his gaze, they’re silent for a moment and the quiet fills the room, her eyes returning to the music box, “It was my idea, yeah. But, I’m not much for crowds, honestly. They make me queasy.” She was lying, partly. She had no problem with crowds, but . . She WAS feeling queasy. As for why? It was easier to know and accept than explain. This seemed to be the one time a fib of hers had actually been convincing judging by the berserkers tone (tinged with worry so faint it would be unnoticeable by most,) when next he spoke.

‘Then rest. You’re going to need your strength tomorrow. I’ll go get some water—’

He must’ve seen the way she was shaking her head because he paused there and waited, “No. I don’t need it.” Silence consumes the suite once again until, at last, the magus stands. Walking about the side of the bed, she makes her way to stand before the man before extending a hand . . A soft smile taking its place upon her lips.

“This is a party, isn’t it? I don’t know about you guys but, at OUR parties . . Theres usually dancing. And since I don’t see anyone else up here, I guess you’re just going to have to dance with me.”

She watches with slight amusement as a wave of confusion washes over his face . . Though it’s soon replaced with resignation before her hand is engulfed in the claws and scales adorning his own. Slowly raising her opposite hand, she moves closer so it can gently grasp his free hand and place it upon her hip before it trails its way up his arm to perch upon his shoulder.

And as the first step of their waltz is taken, just as her now bare toes land against the floor; The music box begins to play.

Eyes now fixated upon her partners, she grips his hand firmly as she leads them both about the room in gradual circles. The white noise of the main hall suddenly forgotten as she focuses in upon the gentle melody filling the room. It was strangely peaceful considering what was happening . . As if the world outside had gone and poofed away for the moment. No party, no celts, no war . . Just her, and him, and the music box.

And when at last the music stops, and feet along with it; She decides. No, she’d already decided, from the moment those command seals had appeared on her hand . .

Her eyes fall to the ground now, though she doesn’t let go of him just yet.

“ . . Tomorrow.” A pause as she inhales, “Tomorrow is it. Tomorrow is our last fight . . At least for now.” And now her gaze rises again, “We’re going to win. And when we do, you’re . . Really going to be king around here.” Theres blatant confusion on his face now . . And she understands why.

“I must sound really fucked up right now, right? After all, this was all a mistake. I was never supposed to be here to begin with . . And then you locked me up, forced me to make a pact with you . . Made me fight against the people I was supposed to be fighting to save. Not to mention you pretty much forced yourself on me multiple times—” She pauses, shaking her head, “Yeah . . I’ve gotta be screwed up in the head or something . . But that’s okay. I’ve already forgiven you.”

“ . . I’ve . . Never been able to do anything for anyone. Never once have I ever felt that I’ve been of use to anyone no matter how hard I tried. No matter how desperately I strived or how much I pushed myself . . I’ve never been useful, I’ve never been enough.”

“I poured years of my life into training . . To become a magus actually worth a damn. I gave up a normal life . . So that for once I could be useful to someone. And thats why I went to Chaldea . . Because surely they could make use of me there, right . . ?” A quiet, sorrowful laugh escapes her after this, “But, of course not. In the end, Fujimaru was the only one they cared about . . And I ended up being nothing but a bother they pushed grunt work on so they wouldn’t feel bad because I had nothing to do.”

“Then I come here, and I become your . . Master. And god I hated you. I should STILL hate you, you know? You’re my enemy . . You’re my WORLDS enemy at this point, you are what stands between a future of prosperity, and one that ends in fire. But . .”

“But you’re the only one who could make use of me . . you’re also the only person who’s ever NEEDED me. And after years . . And years of searching for that, to find it here of all places . .” Her voice gradually turns whisper like as she speaks . . She’s shaking now, it’s barely noticeable but . .

Selena lets go now, stepping back . . And when she raises her chin, tears have begun to stream down her face, “Please . . Just say that, after tomorrow, you’ll still need me. Even if it’s just as a mana source . . So long as you continue to need me . . “

“Then, I’m content staying here with you. Forever.”

#rinadealga #°【IC #°【Asks #❣【 ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀsɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ — CúLena #Long post #//Under a readmore for length #V: E Pluribus Unum

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