#and maybe find a way to love Kingsley despite those memories

[residentinsomniacartist]

Thinking about Caleb and how so much of his story ends with him finding meaning in the temporary.

He spent so long chasing a way to bring his parents back, but in the end he had to accept that they were gone. They were temporary. He has his memories of them now, but that’s all. And he has to find peace with that and find a way to remember them fondly, even though they’re gone now, truly and completely.

He and Essek love each other dearly, but there will come a day when he will have lived his life and grown old and Essek will still be Essek. But even so, every moment they spend together is still meaningful. Even if it ends, it means something.

Just. Caleb and loving things even when they won’t last. Maybe because they won’t last.

#Even Caleb and Molly/Kingsley too #cause I can never stop with my Widomauk bullshit I love them So Much #Molly lived his life on borrowed time and he knew it #and King was Molly’s second chance at life #and Caleb only has memories of Molly now and he has to be ok with that #and maybe find a way to love Kingsley despite those memories #I’m So Normal about them can you tell #caleb widogast #critical role #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 2 spoilers #cr campaign two #essek thelyss #shadowgast #widomauk in the tags

[essekknits]

Kingsley Tealeaf, waking up confused in a garden, surrounded by people who allude him, but he knows they are safe and so he is safe.

Kingsley Tealeaf, who was not the person those people wanted and expected, he was someone else, a stranger, and yet they treated him with kindness nonetheless.

Kingsley Tealeaf, hearing from these people about the friend they lost, the friend they expected to return, the friend whose place he took, after all the struggles they went through to bring him back. He’s odd, and an asshole, and interesting, and kind. And Kingsley decides to honour him as a brother. For these people he never met before, and maybe for himself too. He was only just born in the garden, it would feel good to have some family.

Kingsley taking off to sea, trying to run away from the two men who had his body before, from the sad eyes of these people who loved his brother and now love him, people whose feelings for he doesn’t know. Does he love them, or are these remains of the brother whose body became his?

Slowly but surely, he embraces it. His feelings and memories both. He remembers Molly. He is Molly. Except he also isn’t. He is different, so far from that walking, broken fragment his friends knew before. Mollymauk truly was a fragment, a shard of a person trying to fill the void with pain and pleasure alike. Sacrificing himself in every fight, with every rite, because he’s living on borrowed time either way. Living every day to the fullest because every day could be his last.

He remembers being born in a shallow grave. How different was Mollymauk’s birth, all alone in the night, having to claw his way out of the earth and stumble away, unable to speak or understand. How sad and painful. How scary. How different from how he himself was born, to love and sunlight and familiarity he couldn’t place.

He pities Mollymauk for his pain. For the terrifying hollowness he was fighting every day.

He admires Mollymauk for his kindness. For how despite the pain, he found the heart to care for his loved ones. It was only this kindness that allowed Kingsley to be born.

He comes back ashore, and makes sure to visit his friends. He teases Veth playfully, bringing little Luc gifts from overseas, small trinkets from his travels.

He smiled at Jester and Fjord whenever they manage to cross paths, jokingly salutes at captain Tusktooth and bows to the Sapphire of the Sea, regaling them with tales, some even true.

He gives Yasha the biggest hugs he can manage, gifting her with flowers and jewellery in all different shades, bringing her seeds to plant in her garden.

Beau he pokes and prods at, bringing her interesting booze or a book he found somewhere, playing cards together.

He flirts with Caleb and Essek, gifting them with whatever magic he runs across in his journeys, but more often than not with gentle earrings for the elf, and whatever funny little trinket he could find for the magic man he remembered so differently. The smile on his face was never this bright before, and he wanted to see it more.

He gifts Caduceus with stories and company and interesting musical instruments, building a relationship with the one he didn’t know. Someone who apparently made the earth remember him. Remember them. Someone who called out to his goddess to put him back, to return a stranger home, because his friends were hurting and he wanted them to be happy. Because he thought they deserved a second chance.

Lucien could only accept love in obsession. Mollymauk treated it like a drug to escape the emptiness. But Kingsley was born out of love, and he lived his life full of it.

#critical role #the mighty nein #kingsley tealeaf #mollymauk tealeaf #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #beauregard lionett #caduceus clay #cr fjord #jester lavorre #veth brenatto #yasha nydoorin

[out-there-so-it-isnt-just-me]

Hey guys...I have an idea if you aren't sad enough yet. I was struck by a painful comparison sort of crossover idea. It would never be canon, but  I'm mourning the end of Campaign Two, and I want to be sad and over-dramatic. Essek, but as Eliza from Hamilton in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” But, it’s for the entire Mighty Nien. Some of the lyrics are so on point for a poor Essek who will probably outlive all of his friends (Elves still generally live longer than Firbolgs by a good 200 years). Anyway, enjoy.

MN

Every other founding father's story gets told

It occurs to Essek, during one of the many periods without one of the Mighty Nein (the time that he dwells on them the most), how unfair their whole situation is. They saved all of Exandria, and no one knows. They are amazing, and odd, and frustrating, and no one knows. They will die loved deeply, but not widely. He knows they prefer it that way, all things considered. But, everyone else who saves all of Exandria becomes legends, while the people he loves best will be forgotten, remembered only by him.

And that. That sounds unbearable. 

So, in-between the times he sees the Mighty Nein, he begins to gather accounts. He writes down stories from those they helped, or simply left an impression on.  The people who have met the Mighty Nein have an air about them that he gets good at detecting. They attracted the oddballs and the outcasts. And if they're entirely normal (whatever that means), then they usually get a certain twitch if you ask for stories about interesting strangers. About half the time, a certain blue tiefling pops up in them. He almost has a heart attack when he hears  “go fuck yourself,” in Jester’s cheerful voice, when he knows Jester isn’t anywhere near there. He ends up getting the kenku’s story, and the voices of his friends are weaved into it. Essek thinks the Mighty Nein are the best people in the world, in their own rambunctious way. Part of him wants the world to love them as he does, or at least have the option to. Everyone should have a chance to get to know them, even if it's just through tales. The world would be a better place for it.

...And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame? 

Who tells your story?

Who tells your story?

Who tells your story?

Once there is only him and Caduceus left, this becomes a more prominent part of how he spends his time. After...after a long, long period of mourning. He has so much life left to live without most of the people who made it worth living.

I put myself back in the narrative

I stop wasting time on tears

I live another 50(0) years

He stops hiding his past and bears his sins and his story to the world. Essek tells his story so their story can be appreciated to the fullest; his part in their story emphasizes the depth of their compassion and chaos. He tells his story, but not as himself. Essek continues to drift from town to town under a vast number of aliases. Everywhere he goes, he spreads his stories of his friends, some serious, most silly. He disguises himself so he can stay alive to do a little more good, tell a few more stories, to truly live the life his friends wanted for him.

...I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings

You really do write like you're running out of time.

Eventually, he gets his hands on some of Beau’s journals, Jester’s diaries, and Caleb’s research. Well, he always had the research, but he gets to the point where he can share it with the world. He slowly begins to share and explain their thoughts and personalities with excerpts from those. Maybe he also has letters that he shares parts of (though most of those, those words specifically for him, he keeps to himself, for himself). He wonders if they'd be angry at him for spilling their private thoughts. But neither Beau nor Jester filtered their thoughts very much in the first place, and he keeps anything truly painful out of the public eye. Caleb, well, Caleb was always about sharing his knowledge and research, provided it wasn't dangerous. And they were all dead anyway.  One of the last things they told him was to be happy. And talking about his friends, learning more about his friends even after they were long dead, that made him the happiest he'd been in a while. So he hoped they wouldn’t begrudge him this small joy he’d managed to grasp and forgive him, should it be necessary.

I rely on Angelica

While she's alive, we tell your story

She is buried in Trinity Church near you

When I needed her most, she was right on time

Caduceus isn’t particularly interested in being well known or famous, but he never shies away from telling a story about any of his friends. Plus, he thinks it’s a good project for Essek. It's a way to continue to show his love for them and keep them alive in the only way they can be now. When Caduceus eventually passes away, he joins the eight other graves (Veth refused to be buried apart from Yeza) that lay in a tucked-away corner of the Blooming Grove. There is one space left, nestled between where Caleb and Jester lay, but it will be empty for a long time yet.

And I'm still not through

I ask myself, what would you do if you had more time...

...You could have done so much more if you only had time

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

He keeps adding to his tale; he stretches it longer and longer with every shred he can remember. But, even his memory, as long as it is, runs out eventually. And their story finally ends, but he doesn't. He throws himself into activities that remind him of them. He does a lot of gardening ( mostly tea, poisonous plants, and flowers). He teaches children some rudimentary dunamancy in his spare time, for Caleb. He messes around with alchemy a little. Eventually, he publishes the last of the research that he and Caleb worked on together; ones that took him decades to solve by himself. He even finds himself drawing a surprising amount of dicks on random surfaces near the very end.

Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?

...I help to raise hundreds of children

I get to see them growing up

The time that doesn’t go towards his now worrying amount of hobbies, he spends doing what he has done since the beginning: caring for the Mighty Nien’s true legacy. He looks after and visits their children. He takes care of descendants of Luc, of Jester and Fjord, of the random teenager that Beau and Yasha seemed to adopt completely on accident, of TJ, of the Clays, and of a lovechild of Kingsley’s that found out who his father was and then somehow found Essek himself to learn about him. In an embarrassing show of sentimentality, Essek always keeps at least one offspring of Caleb's very first cat. There is a very funny story about Caleb thinking the animal was spayed when it was, in fact, not. He visits the different generations every couple of years or so (he has a schedule). The drow makes sure they know the stories of their ancestors, the adventures of the Mighty Nien; he tells them it's all real. He gives them ways to contact him if they’re in danger, or need any kind of help really ( he has funds to spare at this point). Every once in a while, a few of them will get it in their heads to write him yearly updates. It’s nice.

In their eyes, I see you, Alexander

I see you every time

And when my time is up

Have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

It is strange and painful to see the attitude and mannerisms of the Nein in the descendants who have never met them. It is wonderful too. His stories of the Mighty Nein have become well-known tales that no one can decide how much is truth and how much is fiction (it’s true, it’s all somehow, hilariously true). He preserved them in his own way, in the right way (time travel is something he thinks of with a growing hunger the more years pass between when he last laid eyes on his friends). But in these men, these women, these children, they are truly alive.

One little half-orc girl has Jester’s mischievous eyes and infectious joy. Another halfling man squints just like Veth when she's trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her. There’s a boy who charmingly bumbles his way through most social encounters, as Fjord did. A firbolg woman who has Caduceus gentle smile. A tiefling girl with all the audacious bravado of Kingsley. A man with eyes just as piercing as Beau’s, and a tongue just as sharp. Even Yasha’s kind and gentle demeanor somehow shines through in one small boy, despite her having no direct descendants. He gets to see these flashes of his friends in those who survive them, and it thrills him as much as it cuts him. (Sometimes, when the current cat has ruined some item of his, the pleased look it wears resembles the quiet glee Caleb exuded after he pulled a successful prank, but he’s pretty sure that’s just fanciful thinking.)

One of the last things Essek does before he dies is fully publish, in print, the entire tale of the Mighty Nein. How they came together, every person they helped along the way. The love, the loss, the kindness, the chaos, every moment he could recall or record was put into this one account (necessarily stretched out into several separate books). There is only one set, and he hands it over to the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. Then he goes on his lonely way.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again

It's only a matter of time

There are now ten graves, each one as unique as its owner, nestled in a small corner of the Blooming Grove. One grave has the dirt still fresh around it. And somewhere, beyond the Divine Gate, there are cheers and laughs and cries of joy as the Mighty Nien become the Mighty Nine once more.

fin.

MN

It’s my head-canon that by the time Essek dies he’s practically a mythical figure among the select families he looks after. It's  to the point that in certain locations ( that have a lot of Nein remnants) he becomes a local legend, the guardian angel of nien (no spelling specified and with no real distinction of what that means), with skin like the night sky who drifts (literally) through towns and helps those who meet a certain requirement, unknown to the general populus. There are rumors that certain people have bestowed upon them a token they could use to call upon the angel’s aid. Of course, the people who have the tokens (sending stones or something similar. IDK how he would get that many wondrous items, but I focus on satisfying narrative not, like, plausibility) know Essek and know that he has died and that the tokens no longer work, but for a while they keep them as heirlooms, to show the love of one drow wizard for the friends he had long, long ago. Eventually, one of Veth’s descendants sells off their set because sending stones are worth A LOT, and the money seemed more practical. They have their stories; those are enough. 

And before anyone complains about the Kingsley bit, I felt compelled to add a smidgen of Kingsley content because Essek loves Jester and Jester’s with Fjord and Kingsley is with both of them for years. I’m sure they get to know each other well enough that seeing traits of Kingsley is vaguely nostalgic and warming, even if it lacks the depth and love he feels for everyone else. Also, there’s no convincing me that Molly/Kingsley doesn’t have at least one illegitimate child running around from various trysts, he was basically the Scanlan of this campaign. It goes with the hedonistic vibe he gives off.

Also, is it normal that I completely designed the Nein’s burial site in my head because I did? Like I imagine they’re all spaced out in a circle. It’s almost like a stone gazebo but there’s not really a roof; it’s just a group of nine pillars that support a stone circle. The entrance is the Traveler’s door with dicks around the edge, and each of the nine pillars/supports is designed to look the knowing mistresses staff. The stone circle is covered in carvings of storm clouds and lightning. Wires are strung across the center of the stone circle to form the symbol of the Cobalt Soul. Not that you can see the wires, because vines have been grown all around them. Once you step through the Traveler’s gate, you’ll find yourself on some kind of rough mosaic floor, with depictions of a peacock, a pyramid, a snake, a sun, a moon, and (oddly) a pirate ship. The mosaic is made up of buttons of various materials and shapes. In the center is a saltwater pool/spring (depending on how magical we can get idk) and floating above it is an eternal flame encased in some sort of dunamancy magic that doesn’t  actually exist that keeps it floating and eternal. Look I'm running out of ideas.

I can’t imagine what everyone’s grave marker would be, but I’m pretty sure Yasha’s is a simple stone that says "YASHA NYDOORIN: wife of Zuella and Beauregard Lionette," and the place where’s she’s buried is just covered in wildflowers that spread outside of the gazebo to encircle the structure entirely up to the gate. Also, everyone has a stone tarot card by their grave with the picture and designation that Molly gave them. Beyond that grows a weirdly dense thicket of trees and bushes that make finding the Nein's resting place rather hard. It’s said only the descendants of the Nein’s family or those favored by the Wildmother (or Traveler, Or Ioun, or Storm Lord) can find their way to them. And one tree, directly behind Yasha, is dead, struck by lightning who knows how long ago. 

And they’re buried in this order: Yeza/Veth, Caleb, Essek, Jester, Ford, Kingsley, Yasha, Beau, Cad. I know there’s a good chance that a) Kingsley would just eff off and die somewhere unknown and b) Cad would probably want to be buried with the rest of his family, but shhh let me dream.

#critical role #the mighty nein #essek thelyss #caduceus clay #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #Essek staring as Eliza #sad boi #who lives who dies who tells your story #as done by floaty hot boi #major character death mentioned #post campaign 2 #a mighty burial ground #did anyone of you want an in-depth imagined version of the M9's final resting place #because it's in the after notes #the story ends and then i found more story #but its less pretty #hamilton crossover #sort of #mostly the sentiment #idk #someone validate my effort please #or let me hug essek #or matthew mercer #he looked so sad #angst with a happy ending #the ending is death #but they're all dead #so it's nice

[ikingsley]

Ina x MC: Post New Year’s

Ina x MC: Post New Year’s

Summary: Ina and Luna talk about their New Year’s celebrations and future holiday plans.

Warnings: Fluff, some angst.

Tag: @samanthadalton

Author’s Note: A little fic that’s been in my drafts. It’s actually the first fic I’d ever written, but I just decided to publish it (after changing the holidays lol). For context, Ina and Luna are close but professionalism!!!

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

Ina sat at her desk staring blankly at the stack of essays she had left to grade. Despite the fact that she had much to accomplish, she couldn’t seem to focus. Her mind wandered freely; she remembered the lively discussion in her Anthro 101 class, her fabulous New Year’s celebration with Lilian and Charlotte...

Her face fell when she realized that her publishing deadline was for the following day. “Crap! Simon’s going to be livid,” she said as she ran a hand through her hair, a manifestation of her stress.

“Good morning Prof!” Luna said cheerily as she entered the office, bringing Ina to the present. The professor looked up quickly, grunted in reply, and continued to pretend to read essays.

Luna pulled out the chair and sat across from Ina, placing two cups of coffee on the desk. “What’s got you so indifferent towards me all of a sudden?” Luna asked. “That’s assuming I was interested in you in the first place,” Ina quipped. “Hilarious. Seriously though. Talk to me, Ina,” Luna replied as she looked straight into Ina’s eyes. She’s drop dead gorgeous, Luna thought silently.

Meanwhile, Ina froze momentarily at the use of her first name. Instinctively, she broke eye contact with Luna and looked around, only to realize that she was accompanied only by her TA in her office. It still amazed her how one night altered her life forever; how could she be so paranoid because of someone yet still be attracted to them?

Ina rose out of her chair and walked across the room. She paced around the bookcase, absentmindedly reading the titles of her collection of books. Luna looked over at Kingsley, noticing her changed form since before break. “You still haven’t answered my question,” Luna reminded her.

Luna was beginning to lose patience with Ina. As much as she tried to get Ina to open up to her, she still felt shut out from Ina’s life. Sure she knew a lot more about Lilian and Charlotte than most students at Belvoire, but then again, she was Ina’s TA. Even though Zoey pleaded with Luna to ask Ina about the status of their ‘relationship,’ Luna couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t want to further strain their, for a lack of a better term, connection. Did Ina want to be with me or not, Luna thought for the umpteenth time.

Luna was lost in her own thoughts when Ina’s voice brought her back into reality. “I just have so many deadlines to meet,” Ina said wistfully. Her tired eyes stared wearily into Luna’s sympathetic ones. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. You amaze me sometimes, you know,” Luna said with a smile. “Only sometimes?” Ina shot back quickly. Luna chucked softly. “Come on, let’s get through these essays so you can stop giving me sad puppy eyes.”

The two worked in comfortable silence as Kingsley graded the essays and handed them to Luna to put into the grading software. When there ceased to be essays left in the stack, Luna appropriately broke the silence.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice your, uh, new figure,” Luna joked. “Hey! I had a good, satisfying break,” Ina replied defensively. Luna smirked but dropped the topic; she always thought Ina always looked great.

“Well, what’d you do for New Year’s, Professor?” she asked as she made small talk. “It was quite lovely. I was able to see Lilian and Charlotte.” “So what you’re saying is, you entertained Charlotte while Lilian had to do all the New Year’s cooking?” Luna retorted. Even though Kingsley rolled her eyes at her TA, she still had a grin on her face.

“I admit, cooking is a weak spot for me. Either way, I had a wonderful time. Charlotte and I read a lot together,” Ina remembered fondly. That kid’s gonna be the next Marie Curie, Luna thought. Though she admired Ina and swooned over her skills with children, Luna replied cleverly. “Did you make Charlotte suffer through one of your ‘anthropology dictates human life’ tangents?” “Given the fact that you wanted to be my TA so desperately, I wouldn’t complain about my anthropology tangents,” Ina said smugly. Luna could only hold her poker face for a few seconds, but quickly burst into laughter. Ina followed, and their full laughter filled the office.

“Anyway, enough about me. How was your break?” Ina asked. Luna laughed to herself before replying. “Well, I went back to the farm. And it was, well, exhausting. I was home for maybe three seconds before Papa told me I had to go clean the stable.” Ina had to cover her mouth as she cackled. “Talk about a crappy start to the holiday,” Ina remarked. “Stop it,” Luna said rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Luna,” Ina replied innocently. “The dad jokes. They’ve gotta go, Professor,” Luna said. “Never,” Ina said laughing heartily. 

Desperately trying to find another conversation topic, Luna blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “I don’t think I could ever imagine you doing manual labor,” Luna said as she poked at Ina’s pride. Ina’s next reply shocked Luna. “Actually, my uncle had a farm in Upstate New York. We’d visit every summer and he’d put Lilian and I to work,” Ina remembered nostalgically. “It’d be nice to see what farm chores I remember from those days.”

Luna and Ina gazed at each other, lost in their own thoughts and frankly, each other’s eyes. Luna loved how open and warm Ina could be if she wanted to. It was one of the main features that attracted her to Ina when they met; she loved how free and light-weight their conversations could be. Luna hated the protective walls Ina put up in the name of ‘professionalism.’ She could only imagine what Ina was thinking at the time, but she knew that Ina couldn’t deny their connection and how much they just clicked with each other.

“Anyways, I’m going back to the farm for the Epiphany soon,” Luna said after their prolonged period of silence. “Oh, that sounds wonderful, Luna,” Ina replied dryly, still lost in her memories.

Luna struggled with her next question to keep the conversation alive. Her brain fought against itself. Should she ask? Should she just leave it as they were? I mean, they did make progress today, did they not? Luna decided to jump in with both feet and shoot her shot. She knew she’d regret it if she didn’t at least ask. Not to mention the fact that Zoey would berate her if she didn’t.

“Ina,” Luna said sternly. “Look at me for a second, seriously.”

Ina sucked in a breath and looked deeply into Luna’s eyes. She had an inclination as to what Luna would ask, but this time, she tried to force herself to not let her walls up. She could hear Lilian’s voice ringing in her head. If what you’re telling me is true, you're falling for her, Ina. You’ll regret it if you lose her, she won’t stick around forever.

Ina trembled with anticipation, and Luna finally spoke up. “I know we’re in a bit of a...umm...confusing place right now. Well honestly, I don’t even know if there’s an us right now.” Luna chuckled as she reached forward and clasped Ina’s hands. “Either way, I’d love for you to come to the farm. For the Epiphany. So you can see how many farm chores you remember from your childhood, of course.” The women smiled at each other fondly. “Really though, we’ve got something I can’t explain, but I know you feel it too.” Ina’s heart throbbed in her chest. Whatever they were, they did have something magical. “I’d love to, Luna,” Ina said tenderly. Luna’s heart filled with joy.

Both women got up from their chairs and met at the halfway distance. Ina’s eyes bore into Luna’s. Luna cupped Ina’s cheek and Ina could no longer hold back. She pulled Luna closer and kissed her passionately. Ina could taste the sweet coffee Luna had just consumed, while Luna tasted Ina’s bitter coffee on her tongue. The two were almost out of breath when Ina’s phone rang. Damn, they both thought, especially Luna.

Just when Luna had finally got through to Ina, she was interrupted. She angrily stole a glance at Ina’s phone, but it was face down.

Ina looked at the caller and shot Luna an apologetic look. “Sorry, I have to take this,” she muttered.

Even though Ina wasn’t whispering, Luna couldn’t focus on the words Ina was saying. Who could’ve interrupted their special moment? she thought fully irritated. It was only when Ina softly touched her should that Luna came back to awareness.

“Luna?” Ina asked as she placed a hand on Luna’s shoulder. “Sorry. Zoned Out. Who was that anyways?” Luna asked inquisitively. She wanted to know who had the audacity to ruin their moment.

“Just Lexi,” Ina replied. UGH, of course, Luna thought. How. DARE. She. “What did she want?” Luna asked. She couldn’t even try to hide her annoyance. “She was just asking about my upcoming paper,” Ina said evenly. “That and trying to flirt with you?” Luna mocked. “Well, I suppose. But she's got nothing on you,” Ina jumped in quickly.

Both women were surprised with Ina’s words. “I-” Ina began but failed to finish her sentence. A flash of recognition passed through Ina’s eyes, and from that moment, Luna knew the answer to her previous question had changed.

“I’m sorry Luna, I cannot accompany you to your home. I just...I can’t,” Ina replied, backing away from Luna, enough so that she could no longer feel the heat radiating from Luna’s body.

“I figured,” Luna said both irately but also heartbroken. Luna began to pick up her belongings, and on her way out of the office, she grabbed what remained of her now-cold coffee and threw it in Ina’s face.

Ina stepped back instinctively, but she agreed that she had fully deserved it. “Wait- Luna!,” Ina sighed. Despite the shock, Ina tried to follow after Luna to explain, but it was futile. Luna stormed out of the office and slammed the door shut.

Ina raked a hand through her hair and kicked her desk angrily. She’d done it again, just like Lilian had told her not to. Why don’t I ever take Lilian’s advice to heart, she thought falling into the armchair, letting out a sob.

#ina kingsley #ina x mc #luna garcia

[milas-imaginarium]

The kindest thing

Language: English

Rate: G

Pairing: Lancelot Kingsley x MC

Note:  @styletters​  there you go dear. I proofread this but it may contain mistakes, sorry in advance, this is long as hell. 

Should I create a masterlist? I have not too much writings after all. I hope you like it. 

Her eyes opened in slow motion as her lashes fluttered heavily, the bright sun blinded her for a second but shortly she was able to look where she was.

"Young Lady, are you okay?" she didn't recognize the pleasing voice but the tone of it soothed her, seconds after she realized her body was resting peacefully on a stretcher, no pain, no blood.

"Where I'm?" the girl uttered lighter than usual, her eyes finally focused on the person taking care of her; a doctor from the red army. He was not Kyle, he seemed older. A prick of worry made her head spin.

"I see, you don't remember anything" what was that man talking about? She tried to sit down but the red-haired doctor didn't allow her "I'll tell you everything but please stay still" what happened? Thousand of possibilities crossed her mind as her heart raced almost jumping out of her chest.

"Last night a soldier found you on the royal garden. You were unconscious but using a gown also a tiara so we assume you're from a royal family out of this country" the doctor kept quiet for a moment trying to find the words to clarify the situation avoiding a panic state "What we don't understand is why you're here. His majesty asked me to take good care of you."

Lancelot was the king, Lancelot Kingsley was her fiancé, why the impersonal behavior? "I don't know what happened to you young lady, but the red army is going to help you as much as we can" and then it hit her as a fiery wave "Oh, no..." her hands encased her face "Please let me see the king. I beg you."

Her legs were shaking as her stomach felt sick. It couldn't be and the only way to prove her suspicions was to see the king, however a bad feeling crept in her mind. The mere idea of something like this happening was ridiculous but not impossible...Oliveira guessed.

°°°

It was the celebration of the "Stargazing" festival in Cradle, as the two armies signed a truce the festival felt different. Happiness and peace were floating around the citizens and authorities, it was a dream to assist to a festival in her new home one week before the wedding, but something was off.

"I see, Oliveira" the Queen of spades spoke solemnly when the bride to be concluded the story. Last night she showed Lancelot a picture of himself in his childhood sleeping peacefully, the picture was inside a book in the old part of the library. Lancelot was taken aback and avoided the topic, his blue eyes full of sorrow "Lance was a lonely kid. He was born to fulfill his place as the future king. I shouldn't be telling you this, Lance sooner than you think will be ready to tell you by himself, after all, a man can't keep secrets from his wife"

"Having fun without me?" a deep voice made both, Queen and bride to be, turning around their heads only to find Lancelot looking sober.  Oliveira smiled subtly, that's the face of a jealous King "Never. I see you around, Mrs. Kingsley."

As Sirius walked away smiling nonchalantly Lancelot spoke: "I admit it sounded good, isn't it?" the young lady nodded embracing herself to her lover's chest "I love you, Mrs. Kingsley. Let's go...we need to initiate the festival." with a kiss on his fiancee's forehead both went to the dancefloor, as the official royal couple they were in charge of the first dance. Everything was unreal except for the awkward sensation in her chest, she would never forget the baby boy in the photo living a life where loneliness was constant.

After dancing and eating all kind of typical Cradle's food people was ready to make their wishes. Every two years the festival was celebrated thanks to a meteor shower, as Cradle was a magical country people kept the tradition to ask favors to the stars, that's what the festival was about.

"I want to make Lancelot happy in all the stages of his life, I want to fill his heart with joy and his days with light"

°°°

"This must be a dream" Oliveira murmured while marching behind a guard, the King was ready to talk to her.

"After lunch, you'll attend the second part of your classes, Prince Lancelot" the woman stood silently, her desperate eyes looking for Lancelot and there he was, a six or seven years old boy, blue eyes, messy blond hair, the expression she knew so well. The floor melted under her feet, it was too real to be a dream.

"Are you okay, Lady?" the guard questioned giving her a confused gaze "The king is waiting for you" Lancelot and his instructors walked down the hall until his small figure disappeared, there was no need to see the king...But still, it was inevitable. Trying to compose herself and not to cry or be in commotion, Oliveira got into the King's office. Being in Cradle for more than a year taught her a lesson: in terms of magic, it was better to let it flow.

"Welcome young Lady. I'm the King of hearts" the man was blond but his eyes were not blue, perhaps Lancelot was more like his mother, though her father-in-law was a handsome mature man. Oliveira lost herself thinking about how Lancelot would look like in his late 40's "The royal doctor told me you don't remember more than your name, I'm deeply sorry for that, however, your tiara indicates you're a royal and you're going to be treated as one until you remember where you belong to."

"Of course it indicates royalty, it's your army's tiara and I'm your son's future wife." Oliveira thought at the same time her hand touched the fine piece of jewelry, they provided another dress for her to be comfortable but the tiara remained in her head "If you're a royal you must use it with pride" said the doctor when she denied to use it with the casual outfit.

The meeting with the King ceased too soon thanks to the Queen of hearts, for god's sake...that man was incredibly gorgeous. "Lady Oliveira, you'll have food and your room. What you do in your free time is up to you, I recommend to rest and try to remember something."

Despite the King's words were polite and almost kind she was not stupid. They considered Oliveira a threat but as they knew the young lady was a royal they had to treat her well enough to avoid a war with another country.

°°°

The next week consisted in her reading every book about magic in the library, nothing related to the "stargazing" festival or even magic to travel through time but something caught her eye "meaningful magic" or magic with purpose, it was the type of natural magic that had a specific purpose, sometimes it was as simple as a coincidence but in other cases, it was powerful and unpredictable, the point behind this kind of magic was to accomplish a mission or objective in the person's life.  

Oliveira had to options: to believe in meaningful magic or to forget about her previous life, the answer was easy.  What her purpose could be? another easy question. Her eyes darted the library's window, right in the garden a little kid was practicing fencing as disciplined and serious as a grown-up man "Make you happy is my mission, my Prince".

Oliveira decided to go out to take a sunbath and maybe have the chance to get close to the blond Prince that melted her heart; he was cute, pretty as a doll, small, soft, sweet "Do our kids would look like him?"

"Your kids with who, Lady Oliveira?" a feminine voice asked, oh shit. Oliveira tried to form a coherent excuse in her mind, then she remembered her wedding. Grinning she raised her hand and kept on playing the lady with no memory facing Lancelot's mother. Yes, Lancelot resembled her mother, even in that cold expression.

"Mrs. Kingsley" she bowed to show respect "I don't remember more than my name but this ring is an engagement one. I guess someone is waiting for me" it was not a lie, Lancelot was waiting for her, worried as hell but it was better not to think about that, her lover was strong "And I want to have beautiful and talented kids, just like Prince Lancelot, with that person." Lancelot's mother looked at her kid, no changes in her expression.

"I see you're quite fond of my son, I presumed you were plotting against the heir but now I know you're just mesmerized by the idea of having kids." the stunning woman dressed in fine materials spoke again "I'm too busy to pay attention to Lancelot but you have plenty of time, don't you?" with that she parted to an unknown place. The King's wife has duties but how cold-hearted you needed to be to ignore your kid?

That day Oliveira had dinner with Lancelot, it reminded her the first days in Cradle. The conversation didn't flow until she spoke about animals, a little nerd of tigers he was and see him with those big blue eyes shinning was everything "I know you're pretty busy but if you don't mind I would like to accompany you"

"Do as you please, Lady Oliveira" his soft voice echoed into the dining room. Deep down his cold expression, a marvelous heart remained untouched, some things never change.

°°°

Another week had passed and Oliveira was almost Lancelot's nanny.  Sure, it was not easy but she handled adult Lancelot, nothing on earth could be more difficult than that. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, the royal chefs where not in charge of his foods anymore, she prepared fun and nutritive meals. Slowly the walls that kept Lancelot isolated from the world started crumbling; by the third day of the week she started reading stories for him before sleep, by the fifth day both were practicing fencing, Jonah's lessons were quite useful and by the seventh day, Lancelot smiled to her kindly.

A smile from the ice prince. It was better than gold, was she making him happy? She missed her old life, she missed her boyfriend, her friends but kid Lancelot...needed to be loved for the time the meaningful magic determined.

"Lady Oliveira, are you going to practice today?" approaching Lancelot was a hard task but his child version was more easy-going than his adult self for obvious reasons.

"Of course, this time I'll win." was it humiliating to lost in front of a kid? Yes, but that kid was incredibly good with the sword, so it was understandable.  Nor the King or his wife went to the training field to look for their kid if she needed to think about there were days where Lancelot was left alone with his instructors and maids. If it was painful for her...how painful could it be for a little kid?

After a hard swordplay practice with the prince, she asked for a break while Lancelot glanced at her with that cheeky smile he displayed sometimes "You're mean, you now that? Let me win at least once"

"If I let you win once...how could you learn to be better?" and there he was, Lancelot being Lancelot. It was cute to see him saying serious things being just a baby, Oliveira's heart was under regular attack.

"Touché. I'm going to make your dinner, my dear Prince. Wait for me, okay?" she found herself enjoying cooking for Lancelot back in the past when she attempted to make him eat something. Food is necessary but also could be heart fulfilling. The little Prince fidgeted wanting to say something, his instructor remained quiet as always.

"What is it, Prince Lancelot? Do you want to request a special dish?" Lancelot eluded her sight, his cheeks blushing "Do you mind if I help, Lady Oliveira?"

And that was the beginning of a delightful routine for them, under the astounded eyes of the army staff members Prince Lancelot was smiling again, being the kid he was. His mother paid some visits sometimes and the King checked the prince's training but nothing more, they ignored his other activities and likings.

°°°

"Tomorrow I'll go to town, do you need something Prince Lancelot?" Oliveira said while preparing to read a story that night, Lancelot didn't need anything so shook his head. She has been living in the red army for three weeks, she kept on acting as the lady without memory but anybody seemed to be annoyed by that, it was quite the opposite; the King seemed pleased of how Oliveira treated the Prince.

Taking the big red book in her hands Oliveira noticed something opening her eyes in realization, it was the same book where she found Lancelot's picture. How silly of her not to notice that before.  "Is there a problem, Lady Oliveira?"

"No, no prince." she smiled at him with her eyes full of tender love. The boy using red pajamas made himself comfortable.

°°°

Cradle was different from the past or the present or whatever, Oliveira got easily confused with all that time traveling thing, nevertheless, the city remained charming preserving the mystic air that made Cradle...well, Cradle. The real intention behind going to the city was to find a present for the Prince, it was weird not to see toys in a boy's room but it was Lancelot's room after all.

The maids were busy gathering the food for the next week so Oliveira walked by herself around Cradle looking for the perfect present, the options were almost infinite but nothing so special, not at least for her beloved little prince, anyway she was far to give up. Of course, love was so much more than a present but something was true, a simple gift can be like the magic that brought her back in the past: meaningful.

After a whole day in the civic center, she was ready, the gift was perfectly wrapped on a golden box with a huge ribbon on top. Lancelot and Oliveira were the main attraction in the red army headquarters, perhaps soulmates no matter their age, were bright when they were together.

For the bride-to-be, that day felt different, was it the anticipation for Lancelot's gift, or was it something more? however, she shook her head and after a wonderful homemade diner for two, both walked to Lancelot's room where the gift was awaiting over his bed. The expression of his round pretty face was memorable "I hope you like it"

Oliveira expected that adorable expression in his face after seeing the giant albino tiger plush, but never expected the kid's answer was a hug, his eyes were closed as his hair was messier than usual, Oliveira couldn't resist and kneeled before him hugging the little prince too "Did you like it?"  Lancelot just nodded, he was warm, soft, and smelled like a baby if that made sense. Time stopped in that instant, nothing else matters than the feelings contained in that innocent hug "Prince Lancelot, you deserve happiness and infinite amounts of love. Never forget that."

Lancelot didn't say anything else before went to bed, his sleepy face showed a smile while his body embraced the fluff copy of Shine. It was love what Oliveira felt for that kid, she wanted to treasure the moment, she wanted to keep in her memory his voice, his smile, the expression when they were together practicing fencing or cooking.

"You don't know how much I love you, my little Prince. You're the kindest thing that ever happened to me."

That night Oliveira slept thinking about Lancelot, the prince, the king, the lonely man, the serious kid, the shattered person, her lover, her world, her reason to be strong, her reason to give it all to immerse him in eternal love.

°°°

"She's waking up! Call the King"  her eyelids were heavy and she recognized the feeling back when she traveled to the past, was everything all right? "Oliveira, are you okay? Do you feel good?"

"K-Kyle?" There, looking at her with a worried expression was the royal doctor, her friend "What happened?" the dizziness in her head made everything blurry.

"You fainted after the dance with Lance. Have you been overworking yourself again?" Oliveira shooked her head slowly, she was in a strange house resting in a comfortable bed. Her dress the same she was using in the festival "I came back..." the girl murmured closing her eyes again just to see a perfect picture of Prince Lancelot.

"Was everything a dream?" She thought with a hefty sigh.

"Yes, that's it. You came back and Lance will be happy. The poor man almost faint with you..." Kyle said with a relaxed smile. When Oliveira fell unconscious Lancelot was startled, a citizen offered her house for Kyle to check on the girl, there was no explanation, perhaps Oliveira was just tired or her corset was too tight.

"Kyle..."

The young doctor stopped in his tracks when Lancelot spoke, the King's eyes full of expectation "Fine, fine...I'll leave you two alone. Don't overwhelm her, Lance." He just remained quiet and approached to his fiancee in a graceful motion, his slender cold fingers traced a line in Oliveira's jaw until reaching her soft hair, Lancelot took a seat close to her "How are you fee-" Oliveira interrupted him with a needy kiss "I'm okay my love, don't worry...Don't worry".

°°°

It was dreamlike, all eyes were on them waiting for the great King of hearts' vows. It seemed like he couldn't believe his eyes, Lancelot Kingsley getting married. Oliveira's knees were shaking slightly and her eyes were on the verge of dropping tears, both holding hands.

Never in his wildest dreams something like that happened, was it reality or mere fantasy? Oliveira smiled containing her tears of happiness, Lancelot cleared his voice and the words emerged almost like a love song.

"You're the kindest thing that ever happened to me. Now my lips have your taste in them, my skin has your caress tattoed and my heart beats at your voice's tempo.

You're like the rain on a drought, rain falling over buds making them flourish. Oliveira, I promise to make you immortal in the land of my memory if you love me until my last breath."

And that was all, Oliveira was crying gracefully during the rest of the ceremony, luckily for her, the makeup was waterproof. The exchange of rings took place and a round of applause filled the church.

"You can kiss your wife, King Lancelot."  and he did so as if that kiss was his last.

"Cheers for the couple", "Congratulations King", "Take care of Alice", "Have a life full of happiness", "We're expecting a little prince soon", "Don't let him go, Oliveira".

People from both armies were happy, the day was full of light and love "I'll make you happy forever, my King." Oliveira said walking hand to hand going right to the wedding party.

°°°

In the silence of the night the couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley made it to their shared bedroom. Lancelot left the room to prepare the bath, the plan was to relax taking a long romantic bath together and getting ready...For the wedding night.

Oliveira crossed the room after seeing the red big book over the nightstand "was it a dream?" she bit her lip opening the book to see the beautiful picture inside, Lancelot and his plush. Delicately she took the picture in her hand but then the picture fell off to the floor on its backside.

"You're the kindest thing that ever happened to him"  Was written in perfect cursive handwriting. Oliveira took the photo in her hands wondering who would have written that.

"Is everything all right Oliveira?" asked Lancelot before running to hug his wife from the back "Oh, the picture. That's my father's handwriting" Lancelot paused "My childhood was not perfect, I hardly remember my mother or father being there for me...but this picture is special." He was opening to her, Sirius was right "I don't even remind her face or her name...but a Lady gave that plush to me, for the first time someone loved me, showed me a hint of what happiness is."

"Lance..." and more tears rolled down Oliveira's face before a gentle warm kiss took place "Don't cry my love," said the King of hearts "Come with me, I'll make you...cry for a different reason" using an insinuating tone Lancelot undressed his wife caressing her naked figure and downing her mouth with wet kisses. It was just the beginning of a life together.

#Lancelot Kingsley #king of hearts #Ikemen #Ikemen fanfic #Ikerev #ikemen revolution #Ikerev lancelot #Lancelot x MC

[gunkyengines]

4, 7, and 9, for the s/i questions if you're still taking them!

Ohhhh my gods @jetsetspy I’m so sorry for answering this question so late ;-; My answers are under the cut!

4. Does your insert have a backstory? Tell us about it! How does their backstory, if any, define who they are? How does it reflect their relationships now? Their hopes and dreams?

Bellamy Amplexus – Final Fantasy XV SI

Bellamy doesn’t have much of a backstory just yet, but I do know this:

·         Their family isn’t a huge part of their life, aside from a younger sibling, who, to this day, I have not yet named.

·         They want a sense of belonging somewhere, and have a number of self-image complications (it’s not really a set of “issues” to them, because they’ve found comfort in their body and self over time, but they still have wishes about what they could be seen as—androgyny is a tough line to straddle).

·         They hate the nickname “Bella”.

·         Bells, as far as I’m concerned right now, finds their sense of belonging amongst the ‘Bros ever since they just sorta started… tagging along, I guess? It was just an act of good will from the prince and his guards and a bit of hitchhiking on Bells’ end that got them where they are now.

·         They were originally a bit of a vagabond prior to meeting up with the guys. Hitchhiking, walking absurdly long distances, camping out often, all that jazz.

Junko Hisayo – Persona 5 SI

Junko is a character who I largely based off of my late-high school self for both self insertion and coping reasons, but a few things do set her apart from me. As in, she’s a pretty close approximation, but by no means is she a direct, direct copy of me.

She’s a student at Kosei Academy, simply due to the fact that I read on the wiki that it’s speculated to be a catholic school (I was brought up in the catholic education system, so, I could find some accuracy and likeness in that), and attended meetings at both the drama and art club there. She has bitter memories of the two clubs, as she was betrayed by the one major figure in both: her childhood friend Hideo Sunjaya. Since then, she’s taken to expressing her creative outlets in circles outside of her student life, and finds her passion in writing. At the time of Persona 5 canon, she’s set on becoming an editor. In the future canon, she does in fact achieve this goal. In this way Junko’s less of a model of who I was, and instead she’s what I hope to be.

She comes from a somewhat broken home, but has a strong relationship with her mother. Despite her current disconnect, Junko feels that she owes it to her parents that she has such a good understanding of her own identity, as they were supportive when she first came out as sapphic, and continued their support when she decided to be GNC and soon after came into her identity as a demigirl.

Elizabeth Beaufort – Red Dead Redemption 2 SI

Lizzie is a pretty lighthearted simulacrum of a more feminine version of me, translated loosely into the scope of the year 1899. I’m by no means a historian, but here’s Lizzie’s life.

Elizabeth Beaufort is a born and raised resident of the town of Valentine. Her mother is whatever the RDR2 universe’s equivalent of Quebecois French is, having moved to Saint Denis due to a family matter down there, and subsequently met her father. A Valentine resident himself, he beguiled her mother and convinced her to move to Valentine and live as the wife of a livestock owner (he comes from some blue blood ‘round those parts—as mentioned by the VDL in Chapter 2, the town is a goldmine of trade).

As a lady of relative privilege, life was… well, it was what a privileged life is. Sheltered, simple, and for the most part pretty damned easy. However, her naivete wasn’t something that her mother would stand to see Elizabeth keep, as she wanted a strong daughter who wouldn’t simply bend to the hand of tradition. Would I say that Lizzie would’ve most certainly rallied with those girls in Rhodes? YES. I’d rather die than portray any iteration of myself as complacent rather than progressive lmao. Elizabeth Beaufort flows in the vein of RDR2’s… I guess, progressive* writing? More** on that below, I guess???

*I don’t actually know how well it was received by everyone else, and honestly, I’m not even gonna try to speak on anyone else’s behalf but my own—I found that RDR2, despite some shortcomings, made itself a relatively hospitable environment for me as a white queer.

** Lizzie does struggle a lot with her internalized homophobia? Like… she had a lot of difficulty when she was younger coming to terms with the fact that she’s bisexual. This is less prevalent in her backstory considering it only ever surfaces post-canon. Yes, my SI and her FO came out to each other at random after being married to him for approximately 3 months. And it went fuckin’ great cos guess what!! Theyre both bi!! WLW/MLM solidarity!!! Don’t @ me.

Gillian Wright – Red Dead Redemption 2 SI

·         Gilley was brought up amongst a gang of outlaws, and her being born a woman changed nothing about the things she was taught by said gunslingers. She left the group she once called family because of the leadership turning sour. From that point forward she went it alone, shifting in and out of her identity as Gilley Wright and her masculine persona (a pseudonym-turned-identity) Giles Kingsley, to keep herself straddling notoriety and anonymity.

·         Gilley only started wearing her hair short because of an encounter in which her longer hair was used as a means to pull her back into harm’s way. She lopped it off shortly after out of the feeling that it was a necessity, but soon found that she preferred it that way.

·         Thaddeus, her large draft horse, once pulled carts. She took him during a robbery so that she’d have an adequate mount for her getaway. The connection was instant between them.

Taeko Atou – Tokyo Ghoul OC

Taeko went by another name before her time in the 20th ward. She had another face, another life. But that was a self she had to leave far, far behind. Before “Taeko”, she was a reckless twentysomething ghoul living off of her father’s money, basking in the upper echelons of society, indulging in Scrapper shows and seeing humanity as nothing but an unprepared buffet. The danger ranking on her CCG profile demonstrated as much.

One night, however, her cushy life changed drastically. She went out drinking after a Scrapper show with one of her friends and decided to go hunting with her. Things were as usual, they stayed in their territory, but ended up getting apprehended by a group of Doves. During the getaway, her and her friend were separated, and she had no way of knowing whether her friend was alive. Drunk, desperate, and rather terrified, she decided to abandon all else and ripped her mask off to taunt the officers. They deserved to see her face, covered in gore and as ghoulish as they came! Nothing mattered to her at that point and she wanted to give them a scare…!

That is, until the next morning, when she recovered from her hangover and realized what she’d done. One of those Doves got a picture of her. In a panic, she called her father to ask for some sort of mercy money to clear the issue up. He’s frustrated with her constantly getting into increasingly worse trouble and tells her this: he’s going to pay for her to completely change her identity and her face so that she can move elsewhere, completely out of the way of harm. After that, he’d be cutting her off, leaving her with only the savings that she had prior to the cut-off. No more handouts.

This is when she became Taeko Atou, a pseudonym based off of her Scrapper show guest alias, “Miss AT”, and moved to the 20th ward. She has to adjust to average life a la Schitt’s Creek or Arrested Development.

7. What kind of clothing style do they like? What would they never be caught dead wearing? What’s likely in their closet right now?

Bellamy Amplexus – Final Fantasy XV SI

·         Bells LOVES anything that’ll make them look cute and androgynous. They’re super partial to a femme prince aesthetic. Blouses and linens and vests and suspenders and a bunch of that cute shit. (Yes, this is my preferred fashion style and I wish I could look like that all the time.) They’re also into stuff like your average sundresses and such when it’s too hot for “princey” attire because hell yeah.

·         They’d hate to wear… hm… short party dresses? Cocktail dresses n shit. (No shade to those tho theyre cute. Just not Bellamy’s style.)

Junko Hisayo – Persona 5 SI

·         Junko’s super masc and butch in her presentation, binds her chest, does the simple graphic tee + jeans thing a lot. Think “Kanji Tatsumi but a lesbian”.

·         She lowkey doesn’t like wearing overly feminine clothes, like, she does not vibe with dresses.

Elizabeth Beaufort – Red Dead Redemption 2 SI

·         Lizzie is pretty standard when it comes to clothes: blouses and skirts, dresses, all just… really basic stuff. She likes simple and solid colours, maybe simple patterns. She’s also like… very cottagecore. Probably likes overalls if she ever wears ‘em?? I’m not a frickin’ historian and I’m not gonna google early 1900s clothes styles at this hour don’t @ me.

·         This is literally just because I’m basic as all fuck and I like a skirt/blouse or sundress style outfit. I don’t wear it often but that’s my jazz y’know?

Gillian Wright – Red Dead Redemption 2 SI

·         Gilley’s another one of my more boyish characters. She doesn’t deliberately go out of her way to look like a man unless she’s under the guise of her male persona Giles Kingsley. But let me tell you—she goes all out for those occasions, even electing to simulate stubble on her face with cosmetics. Think “cowboy drag king” and you’ll hit the mark.

·         Other than that, she just wears whatever’s convenient and comfortable.

 9. Their favorite foods? Colors? Activities? What do they enjoy in life? How do they express their joy for things they like?

As dumb as this sounds I completely burnt out after writing only 2 self insert likes/interests profiles, forgive me lol.

Bellamy Amplexus – Final Fantasy XV SI

·         Favourite Food: Bells is indecisive, but they will gladly eat anything Ignis puts in front of them. They’re thoroughly convinced he uses magic in his cooking. (They’re only half joking about that—it’s so good!) If they were made to decide a top three, it’d likely be Garden Curry, Broiled King on a Stick, and Moogle Mousse with Kupoberry Sauce. Honorable mention being Gyashi Chips (yes, they like what’s effectively Eosian kale chips).

·         Favourite Colours: ANYTHING PASTEL will win Bellamy over, along with any colour considered light and airy. White, silver, pale green, soft gold, baby blue, lavender, and also whatever the sky has going on at any given time of the day—they’re an aesthetic little shit.

·         Favourite Activities: Travelling, leisure shopping when funds allow it (if given the means, Bellamy will 100% engage in excessive retail therapy, no joke), swimming, loving their friends, talking about books and music, gardening, and (I know this sounds vain but bear with me) preening. Yes, they’d be a vlogger in another life. Don’t @ me

·         Bells loves to talk in excess about what they like, and on occasion, when words fail, they tend to express it through squealing, jumping, etc. If someone points out how passionate Bells is about these things, they’ll end up flustered and ask the person if they could continue. I guess you could say Bellamy stims? I’m not diagnosed with anything, so take this with a grain of salt, but I do have stimming habits.

Junko Hisayo – Persona 5 SI

·         Favourite Food: Junko’s pretty partial to miso soup. It’s one of her weaknesses. Total comfort food. (Bro I fuckin’ love miso soup.) As well as baked goods like cupcakes.

·         Favourite Colours: Red, black, silver, pink, blue, purple.

·         Favourite Activities: drawing (sketches, scribbles, doodles, colouring, etc., singing, baking/cooking, writing, and she learned to love gardening after getting close to Haru.

·         Junko tends to show her happiness through verbal and artistic expression, she’s also the type that tends to crack jokes (mostly shitty puns followed up by finger guns).

Again, thank you so much for asking, thank you so much for asking! QwQ Asks are still open, everyone.

#ocs #oc #oc/canon #oc x canon #self shipping #shut up gunky #self insert #f/o #fictional other #FFXV #RDR2 #P5 #P5tR #Self Insert Development Ask Game #Self Insert Development Ask Meme #GK #Golden Kamuy #Final Fantasy XV #Persona 5 #Persona 5 the Royal #P5R #selfshipping #self shipping community #MHA #My Hero Academia #Tokyo Ghoul #TG #TG:RE

[alternislatronemhq]

Congrats, Beth, you have been accepted to AL for the role of Kingsley Shacklebolt (FC: Aldis Hodge). Beth!! Way to go in breaking the ice on picking up your second character! I know that you’ve been thinking and dreaming about Kingsley since the beginning, and the way that you’ve brought a familiar but mysterious character to life while keeping that mystery alive is incredible! There’s so much tension within Kingsley that even he isn’t really aware of in his need to please in following in his father’s footsteps, and I can’t wait to see how that comes into play as the war begins to heat up again. Fantastic job! Please send in your blog (no sideblogs for first characters, please) in the next 24 hours and be sure to take a look at our new player checklist. Welcome home (once again), we’re so excited to have you join the family!

OOC

name — Beth age — 24 pronouns — She/Her timezone — CST

IC Overview

name — Kingsley Shacklebolt

age — 34 (Birthday: March 2, 1952)

gender — Cis Male

sexuality — Asexual, Biromantic: Kingsley hasn’t put much focus in relationships, and it’s left him feeling a bit lonely. Straight out of school, he began training to be an auror and was shortly after inducted into the Order. Even after the war ended, Kingsley has focused his attention on work things, like making sure Voldemort isn’t coming back. Still, he can’t help feeling like it would be nice to have someone to come home to—someone he could kiss good morning, make dinner for, and fall asleep with at night. Kingsley isn’t sex-repulsed and will have it with a partner he feels highly committed to, but he doesn’t seek it out or find inherent pleasure in the act itself so much as the intimacy with someone he loves and trusts. He hasn’t technically shared a bed with anyone since Hogwarts when he was still figuring himself out, and Kingsely has only had one romantic relationship as a full-fledged adult. He misses having someone he can be romantically close to. He feels alone and wonders at this point if that will be his lot in life.

hogwarts house — Hufflepuff, and it would be difficult to find one more likely to work hard than Kingsley. He probably trusts too easily, but his years as an auror have taught him to rely less on that instinct. Despite his experience, he has a hard time believing that anyone is ever truly without good. People can be redeemed, and Kingsley is pretty sure the moment he stops thinking that is the moment he stops being a good auror.

blood status — Pureblood (Though his non-English mother doesn’t exactly have his family in high standing with the “truly” pure English elite.)

patronus — Lynx, both because it’s canon and because that aloof individualism + steadfast loyalty thing feels fitting for Kingsley.

boggart — In school, his boggart was his father scoffing and yelling at him for failing out of school and being a disappointment. It was counteracted by imagining his mother coming in and laughing that his father was reading too many puff news publications and that no such thing was true of her well-achieving little boy. As an adult, it became a Death Eater slowly moving toward him. If he gives it long enough, it eventually takes off the mask to reveal his own face. The only time he’s been faced one in front of other people, Kingsley quickly cast the spell, imagining the figure tripping over his own robes and dropping his wand before the mask could come off. The explanation was a conversation Kingsley didn’t want to have.

IC In Depth

personality traits —

Kingsley is an incredibly driven individual, although he may have been accused of being obsessive a time or too. That drive has always worked out for him since he’s so goal-oriented, and both his job and his, well, other job have benefited from his methodical approach. Occasionally Kingsley has been called naïve because he desperately wants to see the best in people; however, he sees no problem with being trusting and giving people the benefit of the doubt. He has a big heart and doesn’t try to hide that from the people he’s closest to, perhaps even making him a romantic. His whole life was grooming him for a position as an auror, so Kingsley does well under pressure. He comes off cool and collected. A person would be hard pressed to consider him callous for this lack of emotion, but The Prophet has made the claim in respond to Kingsley’s ability to keep his emotions hidden during stressful interviews. Still, that power to remain calm and not let his feelings get the best of him are part of what makes him good at his job.

character biography —

The Shacklebolts are a longstanding pureblood family, and while Kingsley has some halfblood cousins, his immediate family could still claim their Sacred 28 title if they wanted.  His mother was born Esi Caron and attended Beauxbatons Academy before beginning her career as a seer. Her parents had immigrated from Libya to French when she was a small child, but Esi never fully felt comfortable there. It wasn’t difficult for her to give up those new roots when Cypress Shacklebolt entered her life while abroad on a Ministry mission. Although it was another three years before they married, Esi moved to the UK almost immediately.

The two were lovely together, even if they weren’t always the most cohesive. They loved each other and never had a harmful household, but when they didn’t agree, it was certainly a tense one for Kingsley and his siblings. Two headstrong parents meant that an argument could stew unsettled for the better part of a week. Still, his parents worked at their communication and always tried to create a loving environment for their kids.

As the oldest, Kingsley had a certain responsibility to look out for his younger siblings. Irma, Hendrick, and Rosetta had plenty of responsibilities too, but it was Kingsley who grew up constantly trying to meet Cypress’ expectations and always felt like he never truly got there. Cypress’ approval was hard won, and occasionally Kingsley wondered how his father would react if Kingsley hadn’t wanted to become an auror. It was family legacy at this point, but because of Kingsley, his siblings didn’t have the same expectations. The option was there if they wanted it, but it was Kingsley who had Cypress’ attention.

The weight of his father’s expectations wasn’t easy to live with, especially when Cypress was killed by a cursed object when Kingsley was sixteen. Kingsley was a fifth year studying for his O.W.L.S. Momentarily his indecision paralyzed him, but the thought that he’d never have his father’s full approval made Kingsley throw himself even harder into his studies. Maybe he couldn’t ever have his father’s praise, but he could follow the steps that would have made his father proud.

Kingsley came of age and joined in aurors right as long brewing tensions and whispers finally broke out into war. At first, he was convinced that the Ministry could handle it and that the aurors would be the front lines working toward stopping Lord Voldemort and his Death Eater followers. Instead he saw firsthand the Ministry’s corruption as higherups looked the other way or stalled searching on ‘important families.’ Kingsley grew more frustrated by the day as they barely reacted to something that had already spiraled beyond the Ministry’s control.

Alastor Moody saw this frustration. After some small testing of Kingsley’s loyalty and conviction, he invited Kingsley into the Order of the Phoenix. Despite its technically illegal nature, Kingsley never hesitated when faced with the opportunity to make lasting impact. Almost ten years of his life was devoted to that cause, but when the war ended, Kingsley couldn’t wrap it up quite like everyone else. Between the Ministry and the Order, he’s kept himself fairly busy in the time since then.

Kingsley has watched two of his siblings find happy partnerships and one have children. In his father’s absence, he hasn’t ever tried to be that figure, but he has certainly tried to help out his mother as much as possible, especially with Rosie. The gap between them is large enough that she literally has no memories of him before Hogwarts, so they’ve always been a little different than the other sibling relationships in their family. Every once in a while, Esi gently inquires about Kingsley’s love life, but she accepts his no with just a small nudging reminder that she wants to see him happy. Kingsley is happy. At least, that’s what he’s told himself.

With rumors of Voldemort returning and Death Eaters beginning to shift, Kingsley isn’t so sure he found the happiness and stability he was looking for. This has been his life for about fifteen years now. He’d hoped they were on the tail end of cleaning up that mess, but apparently that might not be the case. When he can see the rebuilding around him, Kingsley has a hard time accepting that everything could shift again in an instance, but he knows how easily it could happen. He’s hoping to be part of the force that can keep that shift from ever coming.

plot ideas —

The Order: Obviously certain members of the Order have never really stopped looking to cement that Voldemort doesn’t return. People like Alastor and Sirius are among Kingsley’s closest confidants. Surely they don’t always agree about how to move forward, though, especially right now when there are so many whispers about Voldemort’s potential return.

The old Order: Some members of the Order have “retired” so to speak in light of Voldemort’s disappearance. I’d love to see the tense interactions of people like Kingsley trying to convince them there’s still a threat—or on the flip side, Kingsley trying to mislead them against it for their own good.

Known Death Eaters: Plenty of Death Eaters escaped justice, some with fairly sizable evidence or gut instincts betraying them. Even if he wants to see the best in people, Kingsley won’t trust them.

Siblings: This is more character than plot, but it could be interesting to eventually see some of Kingsley’s siblings or in-laws in play. How do they react to their workaholic big brother? How do they feel on the matter of blood status? Family dynamics are always interesting, and the range for the Shacklebolts could be fun.

Potential romance: As I said above, Kingsley is asexual, but he’s still a romantic soul. In fact, he’s quite lonely and wouldn’t mind a relationship if he had more time to meet someone. It could be fun to play out a potential relationship forming, whether it works out or fails dramatically. I could also see fun potential for an ex where things didn’t go well (I mentioned above one particular one in his adult life, and that could be interesting to play with). Another connection off this idea is a well-meaning friend trying to set Kingsley up on dates that don’t really work out because his friend doesn’t really know much about his type (although to be fair, Kingsley isn’t always sure either).

Whistleblower: Eventually something is going to happen which cannot be denied any longer. While Kingsley wouldn’t probably be the person to go, “He’s back,” or, “The situation is worse than you’ve all feared,” I could see him potentially supporting the person who is, depending on how they go about it. Regardless of his beliefs, it would be interesting to see how everyone reacted and who the surprise denialists are.

extra —  

Family tree: https://narcissaamaryllis.tumblr.com/private/621468809324380160/tumblr_3GKGHoSROIWvKhxY7

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/myrpboards/kingsley-shacklebolt/

#harry potter rp #hp rp #marauders rp #kingsley shacklebolt #al:accepted

[the-cashewpeia]

Deafening Silence (Lancelot x Deaf Alice/MC) pt. 1

Title: Deafening Silence (pt.1)

Pairing: Lancelot Kingsley x Deaf Alice/MC

Genre: Hurt, angst

Word count: 1667

Note: Modern AU

Warning: -

Another fics here!

❤❤❤❤❤

Lancelot could picturing her wide smile when they started dating.

He could imagine her tear-stained face when they finally vowed to be together for eternity and promised to be there when they needed each other's presence.

And he still remembered the current nights when he returned home, when his wife curled up on the couch, accidentally fell asleep while waiting for him from his overextended job or business trips. The clock already struck past twelve, too late for him to stay anywhere far away from his warm home, but she was still waiting for him. Even he could reminisced the mouthwatering scent that wafted from the piping hot dinner, from healthy chicken soup to a home-made tender steak.

Maybe she was staying up all night just to saw him came home, welcoming him with her heartfelt smile and the warmth of her body as she enveloped his muscular figure into a hug. And maybe she even heaten the meal for numerous times, he didn't know how many, so that he could savor the meal when they were still hot, as if they were prepared right before he set his foot in the house.

But he didn't know. He was too busy to be concerned about her.

It wasn't because they were in an argument, no. They were never put themselves in a verbal fight, as one party wasn't able to communicate with her voice. But it wasn't because he couldn't hear her maybe melodious words, that he chose to stay far away.

It happened because he was a selfish man.

Actually, what did he wanted her to improve or had something she didn't have? She had almost everything he couldn't count it with his fingers.

His wife, was a goddess from the heavens, a gift he got even though he didn't deserve her. A beautiful woman by her looks and heart and was a prodigy in her school, as she was praised by many on account of those reasons.

She was a soft-hearted, contrary to his tough and stubborn one.

She could vision the world widely with her other senses, far beyond normal people would. He even learned so many things from her, to identify that his life was so much brighter and have another color other than black and white. To feel her feathery touches in this rough world. To savor the fragrance of blooming flowers, when they were on a date on a random occasion, or the scent of the damp soil as the aftertaste of last night's pouring rain. To satisfy his palate with luscious treats and big feast, when he couldn't remember the last time he enjoyed his food back then.

And her lack of awareness to any other sound turned to be a good thing for them. The way their hands moved to string up some unspoken words and cracked up for some silent jokes without anyone knowing or even understood, and that always be one of their secrets.

The blond man drew a thin curved-up line, as their honeyed sweet memory flashed up. It reminded him, how...

How he missed her. So much.

So much it hurt. So much it fractured the unbreakable walls he built within his steely heart.

He couldn't imagine himself yearning for someone so bad, like he did for her.

He needed her right now, to relieve this bundle of uneasiness in his heart. But who was him? Her husband? Who could have said that he was her long-life partner when he was absent from her side, when she needed him the most? Who? Even himself was too ashamed to acknowledge it, because the sin he committed was unforgivable.

Lancelot clumped himself on the couch, just like she did before. Her flowery scent wafted, tickled his senses. How long she waited for him? Could he did the same till she came home to him, smiling as if nothing bad ever happened between them. He could and he would, but would she?

Unable to hold the sadness that set a flame in his chest, Lancelot moved to their room. Their former shared room.

Cold air enveloped him, as the door opened. He could barely remember the last time they laid on the bed together, killing time with just cuddling and playing with each other's hair. The last time he slept in this room was the last time he saw her, with back facing his, avoiding herself to throw her arms around his body, even though that was the thing she wanted to do when finally they met each other.

He felt empty. He did feel empty. Just like their closet, as her clothes already disappeared from it, reminding him when he kicked her out from their home, from his heart.

The unfilled closet was almost empty, actually. He found an azure swallow-folded paper in a shelf. He cradled it in his hand, just as he did back then to her hands when she fell down. A scribble in black was visible to his sea-blue eyes and he realized that it was no ordinary folded paper. It was a letter.

From her.

With shaky hands, he unfolded it. More and more the paper been spread out, he could feel the thin material crinkled at some point, showing him how hard she tried to write him a letter with tears pouring her delicate face like a blizzard.

When he finally recognized her handwriting on the opened letter, he felt his chest being squeezed by an invisible hand. Her neat handwriting strung some poetic lines of words, full of apologies of the incorrect things she didn't do at all.

'Dear the love of my life, Lancelot...'

Just reading the first line brought him into sobbing mess. After all the bad things he did to her, she still thought him as her eternal partner. She still loved him despite the cold hands he gave to her.

'I'm sorry....'

Some paragraph in the opening was full of sorries, from her usual poetic atonements to the things she felt she lacked. The things she thought that they were all burdens to him and she chose to blame all to herself, loaded the heavy weights to her fragile and scared shoulders.

His eyes brimmed, unable to read her apologies anymore. He sniffed, pressed the letter tightly on his chest, as if it was her body.

After a while, he peeked through the brimming tears, trying to know the rest of the letter but skipped the previous part.

You don't need to say sorry, when you aren't in the fault side. He whispered from the bottom of his broken heart.

After all, she did nothing wrong to be apologized for.

'I wish to stay, but you don't have any room for me in your heart.'

Her wish, the one dream that was natural for her as his wife to have, tortured the person who wished itself. As if a knife was stabbing her body, left the wound open without anyone to take care of it.

Anyone, and even him.

All the words written on the crinkled paper were so kind. She was so kind, in the first place. The woman once he cared deeply never doubting him, as her positive mind always praised him. No matter how awful man he could be.

He regretted it.

He was afflicted, as if the world would collapse, would crack a giant hole and swallowed him up and left him to a deep pit of hopelessness.

The blue paper slipped from his hand, landed soundlessly on the floor, as his heart already fallen on the same spot as his feet, or even lower, deep in the earth's core.

As he eyed the paper, he found another one, a white one. It was creased rather hastily and slipped beneath the shared cupboard. Lancelot unfolded the single sheet, his eyes landed on some certain explanation about her health, as the insignia of a nearby hospital bared itself for him to see.

So, she was sick and won't let him to worry about her. And what kind of sickness....

His eyes wavered, as a conclusion he never thought written under a large table of examination's result.

She was carrying his child. Their child.

Lancelot never run so hasty in his life before. He raced past the door, past the spacious hallway of his luxurious house, as his mind only screaming his loved one's name, praying so he could find her, no matter how long it would take.

As he scrambled to grab his car key, his phone dropped. The device was vibrating, blinked rapidly and lit the whole carport with it's dim radiance. He tried to ignore his phone, but her name popped up on the screen, as he realized that she was calling him.

Why? Did something happen?

She never called him before and he couldn't stop a million questions from lunging his mind.

Lancelot slid the receive button, only to hear a commotion from the other side. He couldn't really make any guess out since it was her first time calling him. But he knew something was off.

"Hello?" He reluctantly let his voice came out, hoping to get some answers for the confusion running wild in his mind.

"Oh!" A shocked gasp could be heard, but it added fuel to the blurring thought of his. It definitely wasn't his wife's voice, as the baritone was ringing in his ear, "I'm sorry for bothering you, sir. I'm a police and I have tried to reach you several times...."

Before the caller finished his explanation, Lancelot cut off the man's words.

"My wife... where is my wife?" His voice quivered, as if there was a quake shaking his whole body.

Please don't... Please don't tell me any kind of bad news....

He could hear a huff of depressed sigh from the caller's side. It jangled his nerves, as the police took his time to deliver whatever message he wanted the blond man to know.

"Well, sir. I want to inform you that--"

#lancelot kingsley #lancelot x alice #ikerev #ikemen revolution #ikerev lancelot #ikemen kakumei #ikerev fanfiction #chie fics

[writingwitchly]

A matter of… toe?

Can I ask for a oneshot with Sirius with the convo: B: You got a new lip balm? A: Yeah. It smells like strawberries too! Want to smell? B: Sure! *walks closer to kiss her/him* A: *just as B is few inches away* *pulls out the balm in front, making it cover B's nose* Please!! Love you😘 ~ @miss-nerd0905

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Word count: 4,1k 

AU: Where the biggest concern sare late Xmas shopping and love. So no war, but still wizards. 

A/N: I will not rant about my writing bc it’s Xmas… Vase Darling, I hope you like it!! I wanted this to be vv Christmassy for you!! tbh, I didn’t fully stick to the prompt (this might be veryyy different from what you expected), but the lip balm’s there lol. Have a jolly holiday!

***

Like every December 23rd, you type Lily’s number on the phone, and hum a jolly tune as the dial tone echoes in your ear.

Ever since you’ve moved on your own in London, going late Christmas shopping with your best friend has become a tradition. Together, you go from shop to shop, searching even the most unknown and hidden ones, to get the most perfect gifts for your friends. And, modestly, you nail every single one, to the point where everyone in your circle of Christmas guests call you the “jingle bell rocking team.”

You let your eyes wander on the gray sky outside through the window, and make a mental note of bringing your scarf along, right as a click announces that someone has picked up the call.

“Hello?”

You were going to scream at your friend in excitement to hurry up, but something in the voice that answered makes it… not hers. It’s deep and raucous.

“Lily?”

A crack, then a pause. Some air faintly blows in the mike, and you perceive that the phone must be moving.

“Y/N?” Now, you do recognize Lily’s voice. Although it still sounds off. And nasal.

“Lily!”

“Y/N…” A cough echoes in the background, so the owner of the other voice must still be in proximity.

“Um… Are you okay?” You risk the stupid question, dreading the obvious answer.

“Well,” She tries to laugh, but her lungs seem to resist the act. “Not really. I… James managed to pass me his flu, this year. But don’t worry, I’ll wear some additional coat and we’ll still go, I’ll be there in-”

Her boyfriend protests in the back, but is stopped by another wave of coughing.

An “oh” escapes your throat, longer than you wanted it. “It wouldn’t be wise to go shopping, if you’re in that state, Lils.” For a moment, she seems to hesitate, so you add, “We want to have you guys whole and in perfect shape for the Christmas Eve party.”

You hope your regret isn’t too evident in your tone.

“James wants to make it alive until then, he’s planned a little fly dressed all in red and whi-”

The raucous voice resounds in the background, clearly irritated, and Lily laughs again, “Seems like I’ve ruined the surprise. Don’t tell anyone,” She giggles again. “Um- Sorry to leave you alone on that.”

“Uh?” Imagining James flying, dressed as Santa Claus, has made you forget anything else for a couple of seconds. “Oh, you mean the shopping. Don’t worry,” You’re not sure the last two words sounded very convincing, but you still continue, “I’ll ask someone else to come. Maybe Dorcas.”

“Er- Her and Mary have choir rehearsal for the fundraising,” Lily reminds you.

The sky outside seems to become a little darker.

“Shoot. Remus then.”

“You know that today-”

“He works until late. And Marlene’s at her family’s until tomorrow.” You bite your lip, “Peter?”

“Is it grocery shopping you plan to do?”

Peter and his love for Christmas sweets… He’d stop you at every corner to get a new type of candy.

“Kingsley?”

But you erase that possibility on your own: he isn’t one to walk the whole day around looking for funny socks or the perfect make up set.

You sight in exasperation. This is why it’s always Lily and you who take care of the holiday shopping.

Half as a joke, half out of desperation, you suggest, “Dumbledore?”

There is a loud snort -- which sounded more like a snore -- surely from James, and then Lily mutters something that you can’t hear.

“Lily?”

Shuffling in the background.

“I- James says- He says that you should probably ask Sirius to come.”

“Sirius?” you repeat, not convinced to have heard right. You hope you haven’t.

You’re not 100% sure, but you heard James repeat his mate’s name at the same time as you, and in the exact same surprised tone.

After a second, the man’s laughter is muffled by Lily’s hand on the mike. She tells him something, and he answers back between two sneezes, but you can’t understand anything except for ‘-toe.’

“Toe?”

Lily’s voice comes back, “What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, this time convinced that you have heard wrong. “So, you guys say, Sirius?”

No, no, no.

“Well, yeah. Usually, he can’t go because he takes care of James’ seasonal flu, but now I can do that…”

“Mmmm…”

“Call him, Y/N, he’s your last hope. I’ll manage to take care of my boyfriend and resist the urge to hex him.”

“Are you sure that Sirius is the right guy to give advice on Muggle shopping?”

And that I won’t make a fool of myself around him?

“I- Uh…” Lily stutters, and pauses a second to hear what James has to say. “Well, if you say so, Potter.” She focuses back on you, “James is positive about it, Y/N,” Which one? The shopping thing, or the fool thing? You’d like to be sure about the latter. “And- I left some soup on the stove,  so- we don’t want the house burning down, do we. Gotta go!”

Is it you, or does her voice sound much healthier than before? “Wait, Lily-!”

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Before she hangs up, James’ voice reaches you, but very confusedly.

Again, did he say toe?

***

Getting Sirius to come shopping with you was easier than you thought. A call, and he apparated on the front step before you had a chance to put your boots on. Even keeping your composure in his presence is revealing itself quite easy, despite the fact that you’re alone with him for the first occasion in a very long time.

The tough stuff is making him follow you through Muggle London without losing him in the crowd.

“What about that?” you ask, eyeing a novel with a bright blue cover. It reads ‘In Love With an Idiot’, and Lily would absolutely wheeze only at the title. “Do you think that James would be offe- Sirius?” You shoot a glance behind your shoulder, only to discover that the man has disappeared again. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

Struggling to hold the multiple packs under your arms, you move to the side of the pedestrian street, and climb on a bench, under the glare of an old lady. Feeling dizzy because of the bright passing scarves and hats, you lose one good minute in finding the mane of black locks that towers above the surrounding passerbys.

Completely obvious of the world around him, the boy’s observing the vitrine of a toy shop, whose sign’s colorful light reflects on his recently shaved cheeks.

“Sirius!” Your cry of frustration scares the glaring old lady away, but at least it’s successful in making your friend come back to reality.

Smirking, Sirius makes his way back to you, pushing people aside with the dozens of bags he carries, and attracting himself many dark looks.

“Afraid I’d leave you, Y/N?”

“No,” you sigh, wondering at what age Sirius has stopped growing up mentally, “Afraid to lose half of the gifts. What were you looking at?”

“Crazy how the Muggles manage to make things move without magic. There was a small train riding on its own!” His grin widens, and you have to tilt your head up to have a good sight of his childish expression.

Godric, he’s so tall. And so handsome.

Shut up, Y/N.

“But it looked quite unrealistic,” he continues, unaware of your internal dialogue, “There was no smoke.”

“It’s normal,” you say, “It works with batteries, a clever way of producing energy without-”

But Sirius craning his neck in direction of another shop stops you mid-sentence. It won’t be long until he goes off your sight again.

Merlin, he’s worse than Peter.

“No, Black, no such thing again. We’re almost done, I don’t plan on spending the night here.”

To prevent him from going away again, and prevent the lost of the dozen of bags he carries, you link an arm with his. And immediately feel your cheeks lighting up.

Thankfully, he looks away. And you badly hope it’s not because he saw you blushing.

“Nice weather,” he mutters, right as you say, “It’s freezing cold.”

Had it happened earlier, you would have laughed and argued, but now a strange tension seems to have fallen on the two of you.

“So er- those… baggeries,” he says hesitantly. “Do Muggles use them only for tiny trains or-”

You smile shyly, relieved by his clumsy attempt at building a conversation, but suddenly find yourself unable to explain anything about bagge- batteries. So you just correct his pronunciation and laugh the question away.

Something in the way Sirius looks and behaves has changed since your Hogwarts years. He is much more mature, and much less of a troublemaker. He hasn’t lost his mischievous sparkle, of course -- not even after death will he --, but he uses it more consciously.

The last time you two have been alone together before today was… three years and a half ago?

During the graduation party, you had found yourself sitting alongside the dance floor, immersed in nostalgic flashes of your school years, when Sirius had come to ask you for a dance. He saw it as only another moment of fun, but something clicked in your head when he grabbed you by the waist.

You saw memories of how you had started liking him in first year, how his sarcastic remarks were actually something you looked forward to get angry at everyday, how his lousy humor and deep sense of loyalty were his most attracting traits, how his hair falling on his eyes made you daydream.

You also saw the fact that you were about to step in the adults’ world, and maybe part ways.

So, drunk in melancholy and honeywine, you were about to tell him what you had hid for seven years in a row.

But, right at that moment, a group of girls passed by, eyeing him shamelessly and giggling like three-years-olds. It was already hard to swallow the fact that you were infatuated with the most popular guy in a range of ten kilometers, but when he asked you, in the middle of the song, if you’d mind if he invited one of them to dance, you lost your breath.

“Of course not,” you answered, surprising yourself at how easy the lie had come out of your mouth.

He had paused, looked at you for a second, and left you alone in the middle of the room to join the group of girls.

At that moment, lost in your feelings, you had seen through his: you were nothing more than a friend to him.

Some heavy darkness had engulfed you, and that had been the last time you’d accepted to be alone with him. Until today.

You have spent three years muffling your heart’s complaints under tons of good will, in the name of your friendship, and in respect for his opinion.

Caught in the worry of not being able to buy your friends their gifts, you did not think twice about it, earlier, but now…

It seems dangerous to walk next to him.

Around you, the street is getting busier of other people who, like you, have opted for a last-minute gift-search. Fake Santas shake their bells, making teens giggle, and women with babies look in adoration at them. A couple of parents hold their children by the hand, dragging them toward a house shop, while the kids clearly feel like stopping in front of a cozy bar. There is a Frank Sinatra song playing somewhere near the place at the end of the way, and the crispy notes of his deep voice fill every corner of the jolly atmosphere.

A draught of winter air caresses your face, making you shiver.

“About time to go, don’t you think?” you suggests, tightening the scarf around your neck.

“Well- De we have everything we need?” Sirius hesitates, so you start recounting the bags,

“We’ve got Marlene’s sweater, Alice’s scented candles, Kingsley’s sock set-”

“A complete,” Sirius interrupts you “collection of Queen’s best hits for James - that sucker better repay me later, this costed like one of my eyes - a maxi sized pot of skittles for Dumbledore, a horrible pair of socks for Frank, and some catnip for Minnie. Remus’-”

“Catnip?” you raise an eyebrow. “Oh please, don’t tell me you’ve-”

“No, I haven’t left the tea behind, we have that too. I just thought it’d be nice to add some catnip,” he finishes, with a big grin stamped across his face, and you roll your eyes.

“I checked everything on the  list that Lily and I have made, so we have everything. I think we can stop.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius asks, and you think you discern some deception in his words. Is it really possible that-

But your running imagination must be tricking you.

“Quite sure, I-” You slap a hand on your forehead, attracting a curious look from a seven-years-old passing by.  “I was forgetting, as always!” you claim, “We’re not done yet.”

Sirius eyes you, and you see a reflection of the little boy’s expression on his face. And maybe a brighter twinkle in his stare.

“We were forgetting about our own gifts,” you explain, to which he breaks into a snort.

“What’s the plan, then? We choose our gift, and we’ll act as if it’s a surprise on Eve’s dinner?” he asks.

You shake your head. “You choose something for me, I’ll pick something for you. No right to show the other, so-” You realize what you’re going to say, and regret it a bit. “So- It’s better if we part ways now, anyway. I have- I have to meet Mary and Dorcas for a trip to the library,” you say, raising your stare from the floor to look at him straight in the eyes.

Sirius’ lips purse in a thin line, and he nods in understanding.

You slow your pace down, and come to a halt. After a second of uncomfortable pause, you unlink your arm from his, and, for a moment, you face each other, unsure of how to say goodbye.

“See you tomorrow, then,” Sirius half-heartedly says.

“Yeah,” you respond.

The crazy thought of a hug crosses your mind, but you turn on your heels before giving in to the temptation. 

You’re already a good fifteen meters away, when his voice flies to you, “It was a nice shopping session, Y/N! Thank you!”

You swing around, and smile before the crowd swallows him.

***

“You tricked me.”

Zipping her golden top, Lily doesn’t deign you of a look. “I don’t see what you’re talking about, darling.”

“Spare me your terrible lying capacity, Lily. Just- Let’s set aside the fact that you’ve broken our tradition, and that I felt treasoned, but-” You run a hand on your face, looking for proper words to make you sound less lame than what you are. “You know that it’s hard for me to be in the same room as him, and you made it more awkward by setting this up.”

“I didn’t s-”

“Oh come on!” you cry, frustrated. “He was ready when I called! And you do sound like you healed very quickly.”

The decorations on the walls and the snow falling outside make Lily and James’ living room look like a gigantic snowball.

“I- Ok, I’m not as sick as I was yesterday morning, but… I th-”

“You have no right to play the matchmaker, Lily... You know very well how much I struggled to make the pain go away!”

“The both of your are so much more mature recently.”

“So? I can’t make him fancy me, if he doesn’t want to! No matter if he gets as mature as Remus.”

“You’re so stubborn, Y/N! If you don’t try, you’ll never get anything!”

From the doorframe, James chuckles, “Take me as an example: I managed to date my fierce redhead after seven years of-”

“James!” you both scream, and the man raises his hands in defence, going back to drinking his medicinal tea. He can barely stand up, wrapped in the tons of coverts that are supposed to protect his fragile health from yet another cold, but he wouldn’t miss your discussion if he got paid for it: you get better than his favorite telenovellas, when you’re in that mood.

“If you ever tell him any of this-” you look at him, menacing.

With his mouth full of the infusion, James mimics somebody promising, and then walks out of the room, in look of a more peaceful environment. He does that every time he senses the storm going toward him.

“All I want is you to be happy, Y/N. I swear you need to be blind not to notice that Sirius likes you.”

“I’m- Please, don’t make it harder, Lily. I appreciate your encouragements, but I worked hard on making these feelings disappear, and-”

“We both know you still like him, Y/N. How many times will I have to tell you.” She rolls her eyes. “I am going to get you two together before this New Year, or I’ll rename myself Gertrudis. And you can’t change my mind.”

With nothing to answer to that, you sigh, only waiting for the moment when you’ll get to call your best friend Gertrudis.

***

“Nothing better than a sweet gathering with friends for Christmas,” Remus says as he pops the bottle of honeywine open. Behind him, the fire cracks in the chimney.

From across the living room, Frank, his arm around Alice’s shoulders, laughs, “You say that every year, Rems.”

Kingsley comes in the scarred boy’s defence, “It’s worth repeating, Longbottom. Anyway, I’d rather hear Remus say it a thousand more times than to have to listen to James’ drunk jokes at the end of the meal.”

The mentioned boy fakes a pout, and Sirius, who’s lying on the floor at his feet, plays with a red cap, that will be useless this year: Flying Santa Potter Show has been moved to next year, because of ‘health issues’, to Peter’s great regret.

“I wonder how you’re still sneezing enough to make that whole building fall down, James, while Lily’s wearing a mini skirt.” The bitterness in your voice can only be understood by James, and by his girlfriend. “From how she sounded on the phone yesterday, she was about to die.”

At those words, Lily gets out of the kitchen, followed by Dorcas, and shoots you a smile, “Onion soup does miracles on me,” she winks, and turns toward the man spread on the carpet, “Sirius, please be a sweetheart, and give Y/N a hand to bring the rest of the starters on the table.”

And here we go again.

Noticing your annoyed groan, Marlene slightly smiles.

“I hope the floor’s clean,” she murmurs to Lily, “Because I have that feeling that we’ll have to pick the starters up from the tiles. What did you do to piss her off?”

“Just wait,” the redhead whispers back, “And you’ll see.”

***

In the background, Celestina Warbeck threatens to drown you all in a cauldron full of hot love.

Sirius is handing you some plastic plates, on which you lay tiny canapes. The only reason that prevents you from dropping them on the floor in vengeance is their very appetizing look. And the fact that you’ve spent hours dressing them.

The soft buzzing of conversation coming from the living room warms your heart: having friends like yours is the highlight of your life. Ruining the mood by confronting romantical feelings to just friendship would be… awfully wrong.

“Any plans for New Year’s Eve, Y/N?”

“Uh?”

Sirius smiles at you from the other side of the table, a plate full of mini croissants in each hand. “Do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

You tilt your head. “Just- our usual gathering. Why?”

The man shrugs. “Maybe you wanted to do something different, I don’t know.” And he grins again. “You tell me, if you want some change, okay?”

“Sure.”

Perplex because of his strange request, you come back in the core room of the party a little distracted, sensing that something is weird.

You scan your friends’ faces, but don’t notice anything out of place, so give up  your strange presentment.

***

Soon, it’s time to unwrap.

As everyone discovers their gifts -- and shares drunk jokes, much to Kingsley’s dismay -- you step in a corner, holding a pink package in the palm of your hand. The ribbon itself is bigger than the box.

“What is it?” Sirius’ sudden presence behind your back makes you start.

“What do you mean, what is it?” From the corner of your eye, you notice Lily staring at you, and then whispering something in James’ ear. “Didn’t you buy it?”

The man scratches his neck. “I’m not the best at choosing Muggle gifts, let along for a girl. So I asked the salesgirl to give me the cutest item she had and-” He points to the half-unwrapped box in your hands. “I’m about to discover what it is at the same time as you.”

His breath on your neck makes your fingers tremble, but you rip the remnants of colorful paper off the present, and reveal a-

“Lip balm?” you ask, surprised.

Sirius only nods, with half a smile. “Looks like it.”

Carefully, you extract the round container from the wrapping, grinning at how cute it is, indeed. You delicately brush a finger on the surface, and press it to your lips.

“Mmm… It smells like strawberries!”

“Really?” Sirius casually steps closer to you.

“Uh- Want to smell?” you ask, trying to remain composed.

“Sure!”

You were about to pass him the container. You were about to. 

But, under your unbelieving stare, Sirius leans forward, until he’s only inches apart from your mouth, and closes his eyes.

A little lamp lights up in your head: that something that was wrong when you exited the kitchen, James’ repeated mention of a ‘toe’ during yesterday’s call… Right above your head, you see it.

It happens all so fast, that you can barely register your own movements.

***

“You what?”

Lily, shivering in her skirt, is gaping at you. She ran after you as soon as you left the apartment in a hurry, and managed to catch you right as you were exiting the building.

“I panicked” You cry, still shocked yourself, and starting to feel like the dumbest person ever, ever, ever.

Your best friend blinks very slowly. “You- Are you doing this to make me lose the bet? Because that’s the only explanation I will accept, Y/N!”

The scene repeats itself endlessly in your mind as the snowflakes sprinkle your hair. Sirius, centimeters away from your lips. The balm suddenly put in front of him, covering his nose. His surprised look. Your run away.

“I don’t know, I-”

“You don’t know?” Her eyes clearly say ‘I’m about to kill you if you don’t give me a good reason for leaving the perfect romantical scene out of the blue’.

“Listen! If I wasn’t sure that he now thinks I’m the most idiotic fool in this world, I’d run back upstairs and kiss him right where I left him!” you scream.

You hope that none of the neighbors had planned to go to bed early.

“Glad you would-” A voice comes from an open window, three floors above. A pair of large glasses is looking down at you, surrounded by all your friend’s faces.

“James! Fucking get inside, don’t make your flu even worse!” shouts Lily.

“- because,” her boyfriend ignores her, “I doubt he’d be happy to have ran down the stairs for nothing!”

Right as he finishes his sentence, the building’s door opens, and lets out a very confused Sirius. Quickly, Lily disappears inside.

The world stops spinning, and you lose the capacity to breathe. Your knees threaten to give up under the weight of the tension that installs itself on your shoulders.

Merlin, if I could die right on the spot.

“I’m sorry if I-” Sirius takes a step forward, but stops right away, and lowers his head. “It was stupid of me, I’m very sorry.”

Seemingly unable to distinguish between what happens in your head, and what you’re actually doing in this moment, you walk toward him.

“What do you mean, you’re sorry?” The temperature of your cheeks climbs up vertiginously, and it costs you an incredible effort to articulate. “I’m the one who ran away.”

And you’re standing in front of him, close enough to see the grey of his eyes reflecting the streetlamp light.

“I like you a lot, you know.” His soft whisper knocks the air out of you. “I think I’ve liked you since Hogwarts, but I was too busy being a jerk to notice it.”

Before the moment has a chance to vanish, like a dream, you reach for his lips with yours, standing on your tiptoes.

As Sirius wraps his arms around your waist and deepens the kiss, you can hear the dance of the snowflakes, chorusing with the beating of your hearts. Your breaths become the same mist, and your bodies tell the same story. The story of two young people in love.

Above your heads, a green branch has been fixed with some tape from a windowsill of the third floor, and is gently being hugged by the breeze.

“Look at those two,” Winter seems to whisper, “Finally kissing under the mistletoe.”

***

Permanent tag list: @miss-nerd0905 @funnymrspotter @daytodayfun @electraheart-isdead @laurenslines @rochelle-the-ravenclaw @wildfire-whizbangs @beaubcxton @reggieblck

Sirius tag list: @glitteryfreakslimeegg @janhvi11

#sirius blacksirius x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black x reader #hp fic #reader insert #marauders #***writingr #VAN. THIS IS ALSO A LIL FOR YOU... THE MISTLETOE MOST OF ALL #can y'all believe i'm even posting this mess #scheduled #kill me bc of that title

[crescentmoon223]

Two Worlds Collide Chapter 6

Read it on AO3 | Rated: NC-17 | Stella x Scully

As promised, here’s chapter 6 of my Stella/Scully fic, Two Worlds Collide. 7 and 8 will be along very soon! Oh, and if you’d like a little visual inspiration for Stella’s boss-turned-friend Fran, she was very much inspired by the fabulous Fiona Shaw as Carolyn on Killing Eve.

Chapter 6

May 2012

Scully arrived in London on a brilliantly sunny day, so different from the heavy, gray days she’d spent here fourteen years ago. Hopefully, it was an omen, a sign she’d made the right decision in coming here. Back then, she’d been hunting a vampire. Now, she was searching for a new version of herself, or something like that anyway.

She sat on the bed in her new apartment, bouncing slightly to test the mattress. It squeaked beneath her weight, and a smirk tugged at her lips as she imagined the noise it might make if it saw any action. She’d shipped several boxes of her belongings, but they hadn’t arrived yet—it took longer to clear customs than she’d realized—so all she had was the suitcase she’d flown over with. Thank goodness the rental came furnished.

She picked up her cell phone and dialed, listening as the line crackled across the Atlantic.

“Hello?”

She smiled involuntarily at the sound of Maggie’s voice. “Hi, Mom.”

“Dana,” her mom said, relief palpable in her voice.

“Just letting you know I got in safely, and I’m all settled in my new apartment.”

“And how is it?” Maggie asked. “Does it look okay in person? Clean? Safe?”

“It looks pretty much like it did in the pictures.” She glanced around the loft bedroom, open to her left with a low railing that overlooked the living room and kitchen below. A blue quilt covered the full-sized bed, with matching curtains on the windows. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“I can’t either,” Maggie said.

Scully would only be here for two months, and she’d insisted Maggie come for a visit before Scully started her fellowship next week. They were long overdue for a mother-daughter vacation together. The sad truth was, Scully was overdue for any kind of bonding time with another human being.

“I’m so lonely,” she’d whispered to Mulder one night as she lay beside him in their unremarkable house in the middle of nowhere. She’d breathed desperately past the tears clogging her throat, wondering how she could feel so alone when she shared her bed every night with the man she’d loved for most of her adult life, the man she’d thought she would spend the rest of her life with.

But as she’d lain there, waiting for a response that never came, she’d felt the truth of her situation. The man holding her wasn’t the same man she’d fallen in love with. He’d become a shell of the man he’d once been, retreating inside their house, inside his office, inside himself. Nothing, it seemed, could fulfill him the way the X Files once had, not even his love for her or the life they’d created together after they left the FBI. They’d become isolated in their little house, and despite her job at Our Lady of Sorrows, she was lonely. So achingly lonely.

What she hadn’t expected was that once she’d left him, once she’d gotten an apartment in Annapolis closer to work and her mom, she’d felt even lonelier, so lonely that when she lay in bed at night, she could hardly breathe past the emptiness inside her. Sometimes she felt like her chest might collapse in on itself.

Every morning, she got up and went to work. She fought for other people’s children, tried to fix them, tried to make them whole again. Sometimes, she succeeded. Sometimes, she failed. Never as greatly as she’d failed her own son. William’s absence felt like a missing piece of her soul, and losing Mulder only seemed to intensify it, until she felt like she was only a shell of herself too.

When she’d first heard about the opportunity here in London, she’d applied without thinking, desperate for a change. But when she received the call that she’d been chosen to study under Dr. Linenburger at The Royal London Hospital, she’d panicked. She was forty-eight years old. What the hell was she doing, considering yet another career switch and traveling halfway across the world to set it in motion? Was she having a midlife crisis?

In the end, she’d decided to go with the momentum she’d already set in motion. A few months in London might shake her out of the stagnant slump her life had fallen into. Maybe she’d find something here she’d been unable to find at home.

Once, a very long time ago, she’d found something here, someone here, who’d shaken her out of a similar—if milder—slump. Those two nights with Stella were a sparkling memory she’d carried in her heart all these years, a shining moment when she’d grabbed hold of what she wanted, when she’d shared something special, something wonderful with another human.

For two memorable nights, she hadn’t been lonely.

Smiling at the memory, she finished up her conversation with her mom and walked downstairs to the living room. Having already unpacked her only suitcase, she found herself at a loss for how to spend the rest of her first afternoon in London. She needed to grocery shop. And she should familiarize herself with her new neighborhood.

Deciding that was as good a place as any to start, she shrugged into a thin jacket, tucked her phone into her back pocket, and headed out. The sun still shone brightly overhead, and she squinted as she walked, taking in the buildings on her street, rows of two and three-story dwellings in aged stone. There was a sense of history etched into each elaborately carved façade that she’d missed since the last time she’d been here.

Spotting a café at the end of the block, she headed for it. A coffee might help clear the jetlag-induced fog from her brain. Tea, perhaps. She wasn’t a big tea drinker, but when in London…

What was Stella up to these days? Scully had hardly let herself think about her over the years, had semi-successfully convinced herself that her decision to accept a fellowship in London had nothing to do with the detective who’d once turned her world upside down.

She and Stella had kept in touch, albeit barely. Stella had indeed emailed to tell her when Ronnie Strickland was convicted and again after he mysteriously died in prison a few months later, having apparently starved to death despite receiving three meals a day. He’d been severely anemic at the time of his death, a fact Mulder had celebrated as proof Ronnie had indeed been a vampire, deprived of his usual diet of blood.

But a handful of emails and phone calls spanning more than a decade hadn’t given them any real insight into each other’s lives. She knew Stella still worked here in London, that she had climbed the ranks of the Metropolitan Police like Scully had known she would. But would she want to hear from Scully now? Would she want to see her?

And did Scully want to see Stella? That yearning deep in her gut said yes, desperately so. But after all these years, she could hardly expect them to share the same connection they’d shared then. It might be awkward. What if it somehow tainted the perfect memory Scully harbored of their time together? She couldn’t bear for anything to tarnish those moments.

Anyway, she had time to decide. She certainly wasn’t going to contact Stella on her first day in London. Scully entered the café and ordered a latte, figuring she’d been British enough for one day. She sat at a table by the window and sipped her drink, scanning local headlines on her phone. It grounded her somehow to know there was just as much murder and mayhem here as there was on her side of the Atlantic. Some things were the same no matter where you lived.

“Met Officer Attacked by Belfast Strangler”

The headline jumped out at her, although it took her a moment to realize why, and it wasn’t the headline at all. It was the photo below it, the photo of Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson. Scully quit breathing, nearly dropped her coffee, as she registered what she was seeing.

Attacked.

A sick feeling spread through her belly, and she gripped the edge of the table as she read the article, which told her little other than that Stella and another officer had been attacked by a serial killer while in police custody. Both had been treated at the hospital and released. It had happened almost a week ago.

Was Stella okay? Was she still in Belfast? Was she here in London? Is she okay?

Scully pulled up Stella’s email address on her phone and composed a message. They didn’t know each other well enough for Scully to ask the most burning question in her mind, so instead she stuck to the facts. She told Stella she was here in London for a few months studying pathology from a respected doctor at The Royal London Hospital and asked if she’d like to get together sometime to catch up.

Safe. Straight forward.

So much for not contacting Stella right away, but Scully wasn’t worried about protecting her feelings or her pride anymore. She just needed to know Stella was okay.

Before she could second guess herself, she hit Send.

***

“Are you sure you don’t something more to eat?”

Stella sipped from her tea. “I’m sure.”

Fran made a sound of disbelief as she bit into her steak sandwich, eyeing the empty soup bowl in front of Stella. She’d known Stella long enough to know soup wasn’t her lunch of choice and also not to question it, not to make her explain the soft diet that had her longing for the satisfaction of sinking her teeth into something, literally anything at this point, a hunger that grew steadily stronger with each passing day.

“Soup,” Fran muttered, eyes searching Stella’s for an explanation she knew she wouldn’t receive. Many years ago, Fran Kingsley had given Stella her start at the Met. She’d been Stella’s boss, had given her a leg up in a male-dominated world, and along the way had become one of her dearest friends. About ten years ago, Fran had been recruited into MI5, leaving the Met behind. Her short brown hair was shot through with silver now, but it only seemed to intensify the power of her presence. “So, how long until this bullshit inquiry is resolved?”

“Hopefully no more than a week.” Stella’s phone dinged with a new email, and she glanced at it instinctively, hoping irrationally that the inquiry into her handling of the Belfast Strangler case had been dropped and she might be allowed to return to the office this week after all. She swiped her finger across the screen, calling up the message.

Dana Scully, the sender’s name announced itself, and Stella inhaled sharply. There was a name she hadn’t seen in years, a name that stirred something warm deep inside her soul whenever she saw it. They rarely emailed, and when they did, it usually involved a case one of them was working on, but just knowing Scully was out there had always brought Stella a strange sense of comfort.

Today, it brought the opposite. Stella’s name had been in the news a lot over the last few weeks, for reasons she’d rather leave solidly in her past. She couldn’t tolerate the thought of any kind of “are you all right” message from Scully now.

So, she set her phone aside, returning her attention to Fran, who was watching her out of gray eyes as sharp as knives, ready to peel back Stella’s protective layers, an “are you all right” of her own. “You should at least drink something stronger than tea with that soup.”

Stella’s lips twitched. “Bit early in the day for that, don’t you think?”

“Never too early,” Fran said with a meaningful lift of her eyebrows. “Not in our line of work. Have you seen someone?”

Stella swallowed the question with another sip of tea. “I have an appointment on Friday.” A mandatory condition of her return to work.

“Good. Well, I’ve got to dash, but give me a ring if you need someone to have that drink with.” Fran was offering more than her company, and they both knew it.

“Thank you,” Stella told her quietly.

“Take care.” Fran’s hand rested briefly on Stella’s shoulder, and then she was off, striding toward the door as other customers in the café stepped to the side to let her pass. She was a force of nature, all right, and Stella was fiercely glad for her presence in her life.

She sat for a few minutes to finish her tea, fighting the growing sense of emptiness inside her that had nothing to do with the pitiful bowl of soup she’d eaten for lunch and everything to do with the week ahead. Without the prospect of work, it loomed impossibly long before her, almost overwhelmingly so.

Eventually, she left the café, stopping at the market on her way home to pick up a few things, including a fresh sleeve of flowers since the ones she’d bought at the airport two days ago had already begun to wilt. At home, she took Fran’s advice and poured herself a tumbler of whiskey, then set about putting away her groceries. She stocked her fridge and wiped down the counter before clipping the stems on the fresh flowers she’d bought and arranging them in a vase, a splash of red and purple against the otherwise muted tones of her kitchen.

She bent her head and inhaled deeply, eyes shut, lost for a moment in the intoxicating scent of fresh roses, until her cracked ribs spasmed, shooting bolts of fire through her chest. She froze, not daring even to exhale, one hand braced against the counter as she cursed furiously inside her head, waiting for the pain to subside.

Then she eased herself onto a barstool at the counter and took a hearty gulp of her whiskey. She reached absently for her phone, searching for a distraction, almost having forgotten the email waiting for her there. Dana Scully. Really, what was one more “are you all right” at this point? Stella had already fielded dozens of them. Even her mother had called, and they spoke about as often as she spoke to Scully.

I’m fine. Thanks for thinking of me. Just biding my time until I can get back into the office. She mentally composed her reply as she clicked on the message.

And then her breath caught in her throat again, but this time it had nothing to do with her cracked ribs. Scully’s email wasn’t an “are you all right” at all. She was here in London, and she wanted to meet. Stella set her phone on the countertop, taking measured breaths as she considered how to respond. This was the worst time to re-introduce herself to someone from her past, while she was bruised, physically and mentally.

Once upon a time, she and Scully had shared something incredibly intense and meaningful together, maybe the most intimate moment of Stella’s life. She’d been young then, so fucking young. But it wasn’t as if it would happen again. Scully had been with Mulder almost since she’d left London the first time, and while that wasn’t necessarily a hindrance for Stella, it certainly was for Scully. So, this would be dinner with an old friend, nothing more.

Stella desperately needed an escape from her flat, from the chaos in her brain, from the reality awaiting her at the inquiry next week. And right now, her escape had arrived in the form of Dana Scully.

***

Scully fidgeted in front of the mirror in the bathroom. What did you wear to have dinner with someone you’d once shared two of the most passionate nights of your life with? Someone you hadn’t seen in over a decade? She’d never been one for dresses. To wear one tonight felt disingenuous, like she was trying too hard to impress Stella. Instead, she put on dark wash skinny jeans and a black top, leaving her hair loose down her back. She touched up her makeup, adding a bit more eyeliner than she would usually wear.

And then she left the bathroom before she started overthinking things or second guessing herself. She headed downstairs, picked up her jacket, and set out. The restaurant Stella had suggested was only a few blocks away, so she decided to walk. She needed the fresh air to clear her head, because she had no idea what the etiquette for a night like this was.

Outside, dusk purpled the sky over the rowhouses on her street. The air was cool and refreshing, just what she needed. She started walking, heels clicking against the sidewalk, the knot in her stomach loosening with each step until it unraveled completely. Seeing Stella again tonight would be a good thing. She was almost sure of it.

She could use a friend here in London, and while she and Stella had never exactly been friends in the past, maybe they could be now. Maybe they could be more than friends. Warmth spread through her belly as she remembered the nights they’d spent together in their youth. Scully had been a single woman for over a year now. Whether or not she and Stella rekindled things, she was overdue to put herself back in the dating game.

It was intimidating at her age, especially after having spent over a decade with Mulder. It had been so long, so very long since she’d been on a date. Not since Stella, fourteen years ago. And here she was, on her way to meet Stella again. Maybe a date. Maybe just dinner with a friend.

That knot in her stomach tightened again, pinching at her ribs. She rubbed at it as she walked. What if she froze completely when she saw her? What if they’d changed too much to rekindle even a friendship? What if they were just two strangers trying awkwardly to generate enough conversation to make it through a meal together?

Scully huffed a breath, casting her eyes skyward. She was being ridiculous. She knew it but was powerless to stop herself. There was a reason she’d buried herself in work for most of her life, why it had taken seven years for her and Mulder to take their relationship to the next level. She wasn’t very good at this, at putting herself out there, at making romantic connections with people. She never had been.

Which was all the more reason for her and Stella to keep things platonic this time. A friendship would be more likely to last the duration of Scully’s time in London than any kind of romantic relationship, after all, and Scully was pitifully short on friends. After her case in Belfast, Stella might need a friend too.

Scully forced herself to keep walking as the restaurant came into view, not allowing her footsteps to slow until she was reaching for the handle to the heavy-looking wooden door. Inside, the restaurant bustled with activity, snippets of conversation in British accents drifting past her ears, but her gaze was locked on a figure standing to the left of the hostess desk.

Stella’s back was to her, but she’d know that stance anywhere. Her hair was shorter now, reaching just past her shoulders in perfectly coiffed waves. She wore a black pencil skirt with a blouse the color of a shiny penny, glistening beneath the restaurant’s track lighting. Scully sucked in air, heart racing, heat spreading through her like a wildfire, an instantaneous, almost overwhelming physical reaction she hadn’t experienced in, well…in fourteen years.

As if sensing her presence, Stella turned. Their eyes met, but the fresh-faced detective who’d swept Scully off her feet way-back-when was nowhere in sight. The detective superintendent who faced her now was older, hardened in a way that made Scully stand a little taller, her spine straightening almost involuntarily.

Stella still retained every bit of her ethereal beauty, azure eyes coolly assessing Scully as she toyed with the curve of her hair, fluffing it between her fingers before tossing it over her shoulder. Scully was so taken with the sight of her that it took several long seconds for her to register the bruising and stitches at Stella’s left brow, the discoloration over her cheekbone and her chin, carefully concealed with makeup but still visible to a doctor’s eye.

Scully’s stomach dipped, lust mixing with concern and the completely flustering experience of seeing her again for the first time in so long. The intervening years had strengthened Stella’s armor, her expression unreadable behind that icy stare. Scully hesitated for another moment before stepping forward, wrapping one arm around Stella in a brief hug.

“It’s so good to see you,” she breathed against her neck. She smelled the same, something fresh and feminine and uniquely Stella that had Scully’s head spinning through a whirlwind of memories, Stella’s bare skin pressed against hers, lips and teeth and more pleasure than she’d known possible.

Stella was stiff against her now, one hand tangling in Scully’s hair as she hugged her back before pulling free. “It’s good to see you too.”

Scully stood there, smiling nervously, hoping Stella hadn’t felt the frantic beating of her heart. They were older now, so much older, toughened and scarred by life. Scully felt a crushing pressure in her chest as she imagined herself trying to explain everything that had happened since she last saw Stella. And what things did Stella need to confess in return?

“Shall we get a table, then?” Stella asked, breaking Scully out of her spiraling thoughts.

She nodded, falling into step beside her as they approached the hostess. They were shown to a quiet table near the back of the restaurant, and Scully felt somewhat calmer once they were sitting across from each other with a bottle of wine between them. She sipped from her glass gratefully, watching as Stella seemed to settle as well, eyes softening as she looked across the table at Scully.

“So,” Scully said with a hesitant smile. I read all about Paul Spector this afternoon, and I’m so fucking sorry. But she knew better than to broach such an uncomfortable subject before they’d gotten reacquainted.

“So,” Stella repeated, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “Did you fly in today?”

Scully nodded. “This morning.”

“The redeye?” Stella’s eyes were sympathetic.

“Yeah. I got a few hours of sleep on the plane, but I’ll be glad to crash tonight.”

“I bet.” Stella sipped from her wine, eyes never leaving Scully’s. “And you’re here for work?”

Scully had forgotten the magic of her accent, that smooth, smoky voice, the way it crawled over her, melting her from the inside out. Stella’s voice was lower now than she remembered, somewhat scratchier. Scully found herself leaning in every time she spoke. “Yes. I’ll be working with Dr. Linenburger at The Royal London Hospital. He’s a noted forensic pathologist whose done some really interesting work in digital imaging that I’m excited to try my hand at.”

“You’re interested in pathology, then?”

She knew Stella was just making conversation, trying to get to know modern-day Scully, but the questions felt almost like an interrogation beneath her intense stare. She nodded. “I’ve been practicing medicine for the last decade, but lately, I’ve started to realize I miss being involved in the investigative side of things. So, yes, I’m considering a move into pathology.”

“Dr. Scully,” Stella said, tongue darting out to wet her lips. “I like it.”

Scully reached for her wine to cover the blush she felt rising to her cheeks. “A lot has changed since the last time I saw you.”

“Probably too much to cover during one meal,” Stella said, arching an eyebrow. She was playing coy, but also saving them both from diving too deep into personal territory tonight, and Scully was thankful for that.

“Yes. My life has been…I’m not sure there’s a word for it, really.”

Stella reached across the table, covering Scully’s hand in her own. “I’m so sorry about your son. I can’t even imagine.”

Scully felt the hot press of tears behind her eyes, her skin gone warm and prickly. She had foolishly mentioned her pregnancy during one of those occasional emails she’d exchanged with Stella, which meant she’d later had to explain William’s absence. She’d never had the words to describe that time in her life. Whenever possible, she tried not to speak about it at all. She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

Stella’s brow wrinkled. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry.”

Scully shook her head, swiping beneath her eyes. “No, it’s okay.”

“Thoughtless of me,” Stella said quietly, staring into the ruby depths of her wineglass.

And Scully couldn’t bear her guilt, not over this, not over anything. She couldn’t let their evening turn sour because of her own sad history, barely ten minutes after they’d been reunited. “No, really. It’s…it’s gotten better.”

Stella met her gaze, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Scully was torn between the urge to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of it. Here they were, stumbling through the personal territory they’d both wanted to avoid tonight. Maybe the only way around it was to go through.

“I’ve seen pictures of him,” she told Stella, her voice hoarse from the lump of emotion lodged in her throat.

Stella’s eyes widened. “William?”

She nodded, willing herself to get the words out. “Once the charges against Mulder were dropped, things finally settled down. His life wasn’t in danger anymore, and neither was William’s. Last year, his adoptive parents reached out to us through Agent Doggett, the agent who’d helped me coordinate the adoption. They sent us pictures.” She closed her eyes, feeling the tears splash over her cheeks. “He’s happy. He’s growing up on a farm in Wyoming. He rides horses.”

Stella’s chin quivered slightly as she reached forward, brushing the tears from Scully’s cheeks. “I’m glad things have gotten better…that you have some peace.”

“I do.” Scully nodded as she blinked back more tears. “Not knowing was a living hell. Every day, I worried. I imagined awful things. But now…now, I know he’s okay.”

“And Mulder?” she asked.

“He’s still Mulder.” A wry smile curved her lips. “Actually, no, he’s not. He lost his purpose after we left the FBI. I went to work at the hospital, and he…he closed himself up in his office.”

“His purpose wasn’t loving you?” There was that arched brow again.

Scully dropped her gaze to her wineglass. She took another long sip. “He loved me. I think he still does. But the X Files were always his true passion. He didn’t know what to do with himself once he’d lost them.”

“It sounds like things have been very difficult for you both.”

“We broke up.” She glanced at Stella. “I moved out about a year and a half ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” If Stella had any reaction to learning Scully was single, she didn’t show it.

Scully blew out a breath, grateful to have it all out in the open. “Thank you.”

“Do you still love him?” Stella asked gently, eyes locked on Scully’s.

“I’ll always love him,” she said, “but I’m not in love with him. Not anymore.”

“I see,” Stella said, and Scully wondered if she did. As far as she knew, Stella had never loved anyone the way she’d loved Mulder, had never spent a decade living with someone she’d thought she would spend her whole life with.

Their waitress interrupted them to bring their meals, and they fell to lighter topics as they ate, Scully’s upcoming fellowship, her new apartment—flat, Stella called it, and Scully immediately embraced the term—things she should do and see while she was in London. Stella deflected Scully’s casual attempts at shifting the conversation in her direction.

This was hardly surprising. In fourteen years, Scully had barely learned more about her than her last name. But she knew parts of Stella few others had seen, understood her in ways she doubted many other people ever had or would.

It didn’t stop her from worrying about how Stella was handling the aftermath of the case in Belfast. Did she have someone in her life to confide in? A friend? A therapist? Anyone at all to share the emotional burden? Those weren’t questions she could ask, not tonight, anyway.

Still, they had to address the elephant in the room, so after they’d settled the check, she decided to just do it. “I read about what happened in Belfast.”

Stella went unnaturally still on the other side of the table, turning her head slightly to stare over Scully’s shoulder[RB1] . “I assumed you had.”

She touched Stella’s arm, offering comfort the same way Stella had done for her earlier. “I’m one of the few people in the world who can honestly say I’ve been there. I know what it feels like, and I’m here for you if you need a friend.”

Stella did meet her eyes then, just for a moment, gratitude gleaming in their crystalline depths. “Thank you.”

“Also, it’s not why I emailed you.” Scully sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as a smile threatened. “Or, it’s not the only reason, anyway.”

“No?”

She shook her head. “I had been thinking about you since I took this position, wondering…”

“Wondering?”

She shrugged, trying to keep things light. “Haven’t you ever wondered?”

Stella stood from the table, brushing a hand against Scully’s waist as she led the way toward the front of the restaurant. “Once or twice.”

 [RB1]A shadow flashes in her eyes that makes Scully’s worries intensify. She’s afraid Stella’s keeping it all bottled up, and no one’s armor can be that tough all the time. It has to come out sooner or later.

#fanfic #Two Worlds Collide #stella and scully #stella x scully

[louisdungo]

FILM BLOG

...

Here are eight (8) films I have recently watched...

...

Maynila sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag (1975)

This film is directed by Lino Brocka and stars Bembol Rocco, Linda Koronel, and Tommy Yap. The film revolves around Julio Madiaga (played by Bembol Rocco), a young adult from the province who went to Manila to find a job and eventually found himself into a society in which he becomes hopeless while learning that his old flame, Ligaya Paraiso (played by Linda Koronel), is also within the city. The movie as a whole was engaging right from the start until the end and it is really a must-watch. I, for one, started to appreciate more of the local films after watching this movie, even the vintage ones before my time like the film Batch 81 by Mike de Leon. I think its good to see such original narratives from local films nowadays, considering the amount of film festivals that we have as of now -- but if you would think about it, there's no local film like any other when compared with Maynila. There were actually no characters from the film that you would not be interested in. I symphatized with the main characters especially with Julio, since every situation he comes across in the film was very harsh that he can't seem to do anything about them but instead, he would often run from it. The main protagonist, Ah Tek (played by Tommy Yap), was very subtle throughout the film because you wouldnt expect him to have such a big turning point to the story and for Julio as a character later in the final act of the film. I saw the film only with its restored version which was made possible by Mike de Leon, who is also the cinematographer of this film, and they did a pretty good job on remastering its cinematography. The audio was a little blown out even with its restored version but I was able to understand most of the dialogue anyway. Overall, Maynila sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag gets more and more intense every after scene and I think it deserves to be recognized by everyone.

  The Birth of a Nation (1915)

This film is directed by D. W. Griffith and stars Henry B. Walthall, Lillian Gish, and Ralph Lewis. The film is centered around a family from the north and south of america during the civil war period and how they eventually became at war with each other that results with the birth of a racist and aggressive nation, hence the title of the film. This is an important part of the history of film since it is the very first feature length film with a narrative. However, the film was unessecarily three hours long, at least for me, and it is also a silent film as a whole in which I wouldnt blame the filmmakers for it, given the time it was made. The film eventually shows the main protagonist's descent into madness as is explicitly shows how the birth of the Ku Klux Klan came to be. I think it's not that controversial enough, based from some people who have watched the film, since it is somehow for the viewers to be aware not only of the history of the KKK but also to be aware of the impact on racism and how it is still relevant until now. The final act might be the most brutal part of the film since it shows how we, humans, can do something unimaginable. I think The Birth of a Nation, as a whole, doesnt fear to show the dark truth in which the society could possess towards people of color and it would be rather recommended for people who are interested in what the first feature film was like.

  The Jazz Singer (1927)

This film is directed by Alan Crosland and stars Al Jolson, May McAvoy, and Yossele Rosenblatt. The story revolves around a boy named Jackie Rabinowitz who is interested in jazz and wants to become a jazz singer but his father (played by Yossele Rosenblatt) whom, is a cantor, is keeping him from doing so since tradition must be passed on to him. Years later, Jackie (played by Al Jolson) grew up and was able to follow his passion whilst finding love along the way and must decide whether to keep on being a singer or to stick with his tradition and stay with his father. The Jazz Singer is known as the first "talkie" film in which dialogue can be heard in the film, except there wasnt much scenes with actual speaking voice on it and can only be heard whenever there are scenes in which Jackie is finished singing. What I like about this film is the narrative and the acting. The story was simple yet well executed as a drama movie and Al Jolson steals every scene that he is on. The final act might be my favorite part of the film because it was riveting and sad at the same time which ended on a perfect note. In Jazz Singer, I learned how you can follow your passion wherever you see yourself fit despite what others tell you to be what they want you to be, and there's nothing wrong about it.

Citizen Kane (1941)

This film is directed and written by Orson Welles and stars also himself as the lead role, along with Joseph Cotten and Dorothy Comingore. The film focuses on the mysterious death of Charles Foster Kane (played by Orson Welles) in which a reporter is assigned to unravel the truth behind Kane's mystifying last words. I have to say, this film is far ahead of its time when referring to itsediting and cinematography. The story and especially its atmosphere is what I liked the most since I am more into the noir type of films, like Sunset Boulevard (1952). Every scene gets more engaging as you progress through its narrative. All the actors who took part did a brilliant job, but Welles made himself stand out among the rest of the cast. His portrayal of a man who was able to get everything he wanted, and wasnt really satisfied after all -- is beyond phenomenal.

Pink Floyd: The Wall (1982)

This film is directed by Alan Parker and Gerald Scafe and was written by one of the band members of Pink Floyd itself, Roger Waters. It stars Bob Geldof and it is a visual representation of the band's album of the same name. The story revolves around a man named Pink, a musician scarred for life who pondered on his childhood memories inside a hotel room and isolating himself from the society in which he symbolizes as a wall. This is actually the first album I have heard from the band and I started to appreciate more of their songs after watching the movie. It was captivating until the end since it is visually hypnotizing with all its twisted animations throughout the film, all thanks to Scafe's vision of the album. The way I see it, I think it shows how some people who happen to have a depressing upbringing could actually be forced into isolation and absolute madness all because of its noxious society that's surrounding them.

Hugo (2011)

This film is directed by Martin Scorsese and stars Asa Butterfield, Chloe Graze Moretz, Sasha Baron Cohen, with Ben Kingsley. The film is centered around an orphan named Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) who is living inside a clock beyond the walls of the train station, and yet no one had any knowledge of who he is and where he lives. Hugo constantly works on an automaton in which his late father (played by Jude Law) had left him, not knowing that there is a secret message hidden within the automaton. Out of all the films Scorsese had made, this might be the only light-hearted one since most of his works are brooding and grounded. The film, as a whole, is well-directed. The story, the cinematography, the editing, every element evokes a youthful bliss. Hugo’s connection with the other characters is what simply made the film entertaining. The film also pays tribute to the first pioneers of film which can be quite educational in some way. I think every aspiring filmmakers should witness one of Scorsese’s masterpiece since it will make them appreciate and learn more of the filmmaking industry. Perhaps this film might be one of those reasons why I love filmmaking.

  YIELD (2018)

This documentary is directed by Toshihiko Uriu and Victor Tagaro. It mainly documents the lives of nine (9) children namely Essam, Jason, Omar, Alex, Edralen, Glady Mae, Rommel, Ariel, and April as they endure child labor under the third-world conditions. Yield was somehow sad to watch since we get to witness some of the children’s deprivation of dignity which harms both their physical and mental state. This was not one of those typical documentary films since it is more observational – immersive, and no interview of some kind. Despite their hardships in life, some of them never yielded until they have reached their goals and some of them unfortunately never made it along the way. Yield was interestingly made in a span of five (5) years. I never really was interested in watching documentaries and maybe it depends on the subject matter, but this made me appreciate more of the alternative styles or modes in documentary filmmaking.

  Batch 81 (1982)

This film is directed by Mike de Leon and stars Mark Gil as Sid Lucero in a brutal and grounded depiction of what newfound members of a fraternity has to undergo in order to become one of them. Basically the whole story revolves around Sid Lucero with six (6) of his other friends that decided to join a fraternity called the Alpha Kappa Omega (AKΩ) since they find it advantageous throughout their lives. As the film progresses, it gets more and more intense since their fate and friendship is immensely tested as there’s no turning back when joining the said fraternity. This is also one of the many Mike de Leon films in which it deals with the psyche of the Filipino people during the Martial Law years. It may not feel like a blockbuster-budget film but the story was powerful, all throughout. Batch 81 showcases how fascism has affected our human nature and captures our hunger for power wherein some people would tend to see themselves above everything else, and in that, it was a strong movie as a whole.

[mythicalbelle]

Sins of Trust

Diagon Alley had been the introduction to the world of magic and all that it entailed. Every shop held a memory to me and I had kept a record of them all within the confines of leather- bound journals. Even upsetting memories such as those that involved a younger Draco and myself. Lucius Malfoy had manipulated Draco into being the arrogant brattish boy I had first known at Hogwarts and I was so happy to find out that the man Draco had become during our eighth year was one whom it was all too easy to love. Now, as I lay on the vast bed listening to the clientele of The Leaky Cauldron as they went about their evening; I wished I could go back to that last year of school and tell Draco the truth of how I had fallen in love with the man he was... I remembered lying in his arms as we hid away in his bed the morning of our final NEWT exam just as I lay now, and I'd been so close to uttering those words that would have set me.. us free. Of course, I now knew that I was merely a distraction for Draco - and Ron's taunting words came back to haunt me. He had warned me that I would be used and thrown aside, and the bastard had been right. Draco Malfoy had lulled me into a false sense of security in his home and perhaps I had been foolish in me feeling that the Malfoy estate was my home. I had stayed far longer than I should have done and gotten too comfortable in a place that had been warded to keep Muggle-borns like myself away. Cursing my foolish and vulnerable heart for allowing myself to feel something for Draco, I felt tears slip down my cheeks and soak into my pillows. I had something sad that I would write into my diary - a first for me in regards to Draco and I. Draco Malfoy had made me cry. Curling up under the covers clutching hold of my blankets I thought about both Ron and Draco. Both men had sworn to protect me, and then left me hurting. In Ron's case; both physically and emotionally to the degree I really should have been admitted into St Mungo's on several occasions. Draco had broken my heart once and for all. Astoria Greengrass was originally supposed to marry Draco, it had been front-page of the Prophet when we'd been in Hogwarts. He had succeeded in challenging the betrothal in a private meeting with the Wizengamort and succeeded in having the agreement annulled and like a fool, I had thought then he would choose me to be become the newest Lady Malfoy. When we'd left school without becoming the couple I had naïvely hoped us to be and I'd begun to build a relationship with Ron. It had lacked the fire and passion Draco had experienced. I became trapped and felt that somehow, I deserved to assaults that Ron inflicted on me and the cruelty of his words were down to him grieving for his brother. Every excuse I could think of, I used to survive every day. Crying till I was nothing but a trembling wreck in a blanket fort, I barely heard the pop of the house elf as it apparated into my room, and was unaware as to who she was, although I could guess by the small dress she was wearing that she had come from Malfoy Manor. Surely the Draco I knew now wouldn't rub salt into my wounds and have a house elf follow me no doubt to return my meagre belonging to me. "I can see you elf. Tell me your name and then I must ask you a second question and I need you to be honest." The small creature froze and began fidgeting with the hem of her dress whilst avoiding looking at me. Clearly, she was torn between what I had asked of her and the orders she had received from Draco. Sighing softly, I pulled myself up to sit in the bed, fingers moving automatically to run through my curls and guide them away from my tear-streaked face. "Melly. Missy Hermy, my name is Melly and I tend the vegetable gardens that the late Lady Malfoy created. Master Draco was going to have me aide Missy Hermy in whatever she wishes in the walled gardens Master Draco took Missy Hermy on Hallows Eve." This Melly looked like she had witnessed such horrors as Nagini eating a victim whole. (Although there was a good chance she had given that the Dark Lord had punished Lucius by having the Manor be his main settlement for all those loyal to him...) Nodding softly, I pointedly ignored the sound of an argument taking place further down the hall between Hannah Longbottom and someone who sounded suspiciously like Ron. Whomever it was, sounded just like Ron when he had drunk too many Ogden's finest and become a vicious drunk. Ronald was at work selling jokes and tricks to a flurry of customers down the road at Weasley Wizarding Wheezes... Melly did as I did and looked towards the locked bedroom door and bit her lip thoughtfully. Without a shadow of doubt, the elf was frightened by the disturbance as well as breaking a vow between herself and her Master, because I was sure Draco wouldn't want me to know he was maintaining a watchful eye on me. Or, perhaps I was wrong and Draco was wishing to see where I was so that he could move on with a clear conscious with Astoria. That thought, had me shiver and a feeling of misery consume me.. I loved Draco Malfoy - I knew that now and I felt lost. Returning my attention to the the window, I kept my eyes off Melly so that whatever request she had to follow out could be done without her feeling fear of punishment from a man I knew to be kind to all now... "Melly. I shall return to my book and I won't say a word for I fear my acknowledgement of you has you fearing what Master Draco shall do. Please however, know that I am grateful for your kindness and those of your friends and family at the Manor. I shall miss you all." Those final five words were uttered through a new fit of tears as I wept for something that had never been and never would. I didn't belong really, not here in the hubbub of Diagon Alley, or the tranquillity of Wiltshire with Draco. The pop of Melly's departure had me think of the future, intertwined with the recollections of the visions I had experienced with Draco - none of it now seemed to make sense. I had seen myself with a babe in my arms... I had for the briefest moment thought it meant a family - a child born of love perhaps with Draco though that notion seemed insane now I thought of it. He'd no more permit a child of his to be born a half-blood than Ron suddenly turn his back on the Cannons. Maybe it had been something different indeed; like a new beginning away from magic. Muggle England wasn't completely alien to me and I could survive. No - I would survive after all, I had survived far worse at the hands of enemies and friends alike. Retrieving my favourite quill from my bag along with some parchment and began letters to Harry and Ginny, Ron and Draco. Each one short but to the point - that I would trouble them no more and wished them to let me go and live their lives to the full. The letter to my best friend and his wife was smudged only once where I told them both that they were my kin despite no blood between us. After all, it had been Harry who never strayed on the hardest of days when on the run unlike Ron whom had broken my heart and mind repeatedly with his temper tantrums. I moved from them to Draco. A man whose loyalty and morality had been questionable during the war; but I had kept up my vow to clear Draco’s name and I'd done so although the official notice from the Ministry wouldn't be sent to the Malfoy estate till the following morning; Kingsley had sent a note to me to give me the good news. so that I could leave with my conscience clear. My Mother had always told me that one should be honest with things that mattered to me and those I cared for. I ensured that the note from Shacklebolt was sealed so that it may be enclosed within my own of which I had confessed my heart when I went to my Maker, I would know that Draco would know that he had been loved truly by one who saw him as something more than his name or fortune. Not that it would matter much now, a marriage between Draco and Astoria would have many pure-blooded families believe there to be hope of the 'Lord's ways' returning. His letter was filled with smudges and I was half-tempted to begin again so that my sorrow be disguised from Draco.. As I reached for fresh parchment, I heard the sound of one man approaching whom I had thought not to encounter alone again... The fury in Ron’s voice was one I was accustomed too when he was drunk, something I feared him to be now and I froze with my fresh parchment discarded to the table in a mess as ink from the well spilt over the wood leaving parts of the important notes impossible to read. Nonetheless, I thrust the two letters to the young owl I had been loaned by Hannah and Neville. "Forgive me for not having treats or time to bind these well.. One to Harry Potter and the other, Draco Malfoy. Hurry please." The letters slid into the holsters on each leg and the owl was gone through the window as Ron’s voice echoed through the doorway and I wondered just what had brought him here when I had hoped to find Ginny instead. "WEASLEY! Get the Hell away from that door and leave Ms Granger alone!" Pulling the door open with a bang, I stared at the scene before me - Ron was restrained by an irate Minister. Snood... I should have felt relieved but the same chill I had felt in the moments before the three of us were captured and brought before Bellatrix. Something was wrong - I just had no idea what. Arcturus Snood wasn't one to frequent the Leaky, and yet? When I had fled to here, here I found him. The Minister who had clearly not believed Ron had been the source of my injuries weeks before was the one to come my rescue now. Yet, I felt truly afraid as Arcturus and mine eyes met, and longed for the sanctuary of Wiltshire..

#Sins of Trust #MythicalBelle #Dramione #draco x hermione #AnguisMalificus #RP #SL #PestilentGinger

[fractal-fourcube]

1. Your first OC ever?

Gosh, not sure. I don’t think I’ve had as many as most people, but it’s still possible I forgot. I remember making quite a few of them when I got into forum RP back when I was 14...only a few of them developed in any significant way, most of them were just versions of me with more exciting lives, as you can expect. Most of them were connected to fandoms. I think the first one I made at that point was Mooneyes the Warrior Cats character. (Yup--read those, did that.) She was a black cat with yellow orange eyes (”harvest moon”, heh), one of which couldn’t fully open because of a snakebite she inexplicably survived. She got bitten, fell unconscious, and woke up the next day completely fine. “What near-death experience? Time to go be a warrior!” She was in ThunderClan, naturally.

2. Do you have a personal favorite among your OCs?

I’d say so. 

3. Have you ever adopted a character or gotten a character from someone else?

No. I wouldn’t be opposed to it though. I’d only hope I could treat them right.

4. A character you rarely talk about?

That goes for pretty much all of them, although I’m working on changing that because I think it would be better for me on a personal level if I talked about them more--at least the ones I care about developing the most. One past character that comes to mind is Eric Martin, from the forum RP days I mentioned. (I did that for about 3-4 years.) His last name happened because my computer used to sit next to the bookshelf and the Redwall books were right at eye-level with me. 

He was a Harry Potter OC, an Auror. Middle aged, cynical, estranged from his family--I kind of miss him sometimes, actually. I was starting to get to know him as a person aside from me, before the Ministry of Magic group I was in sort of drifted apart and I voluntarily stopped playing him. He interacted most often with a pardoned Death Eater whose writer became a friend of mine. We lost touch eventually, but playing with her made most of the good memories I have about Martin and those times in general. (If you’re reading this, McKenzie, thank you for everything. I’m sorry we don’t talk any more. I want you to know that I grew a lot as a writer because of you.)

I remember I drew a “group photo” of our group’s characters once. I wasn’t drawing from any celebrity’s appearance at the time, but thinking back, he kind of ended up looking like Ben Kingsley. So there you go. That’s his faceclaim, I guess.

Sometimes I think that if I polished him up a bit and cut his ties with the Harry Potter universe, he could maybe have a story of his own.

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be?

Hm...that’s tough. Probably Sawyer. I haven’t found out his complete story yet, but I’m convinced he has one in a way I can’t quite explain. He was an “accidental” creation originally, but...he just loves people so deeply. I was so surprised to find that out about him. And I think it’s enough to carry him very, very far.

I know that might sound pretentious or something, but that is, sincerely, what he’s all about as a character.

6. Two OCs of yours that look alike despite not being related?

I have a character, who I mostly call the Birdman, who travels with a man named David who can jump between worlds and timelines. He has a variety of ways but this most often involves literally jumping off of things. He’s been travelling in search of his niece, Amber. At this point I’ve decided that David and Sawyer are some kind of dimensional dopplegangers. They have different life experiences, and David is a handful of years older (plus he was created on purpose), but they share at least one basic core motivation, and overall it just seems to make sense. I can’t help put picture them having physical similarities. Wouldn’t it be wild if the two of them met?

#my ocs #yetanotherocmeme #i'm basically sending these asks to myself because i can do that

[weekendwarriorblog]

WHAT TO WATCH THIS WEEKEND 8/31/18: Labor Day Weekend!

It’s Labor Day weekend, the last weekend of the summer box office season and usually a slower holiday than Memorial Day or July 4th, mainly because many schools are already in session. Also, for many, it’s the last chance for a vacation. In the past, it’s been a weekend used for genre films and prestige films wanting to get an early lead on the fall awards season (which starts officially at the Telluride Film Festival over the weekend). In the past few years, it’s also seen a lot of new movies outright bombing in favor of higher-profile returning films, and this weekend could see some of all the above. (Just for comparison, last Labor Day, there wasn’t a single new movie in the top 10 with none of them opening in over 1,000 theaters. At least this year, we have a few opening in more than 1,800 theaters, which wasn’t the case last Labor Day.

OPERATION FINALE (MGM)

Likely to be one of the weekend’s more high-profile releases, despite this not being a great time for new releases, is this new political thriller from director Chris Weitz, that looks at the 1960 search and capture of the Nazi mastermind of the “Final Solution” Adolph Eichmann by a group of Mossad agents. It opens on Wednesday in hopes of building up word-of-mouth for the longer holiday weekend.

It’s another vehicle for Oscar Isaac, an actor who STILL hasn’t gotten an Oscar nomination despite always doing excellent work in a number of great dramas. At this point, he’s probably best known for playing the role of Poe Dameron in the latest Star Wars trilogy.  Besides those movies, Isaac appeared in the Terry George drama The Promise, which was about the Armenian genocide, and that opened with around $4.1 million in 2,251 theaters and grossed a piddling $8 million. Granted, the Armenian genocide is not as well-known as the Holocaust, which is a shame since more people really should know about the million and a half Armenians killed in 1905. His anticipated take on the X-Men villain Apocalypse might not have been received as well by critics or fans, but as long as he keeps balancing the movies with ones like this one, he should have a long and thriving career.

Older moviegoers may be more interested in Oscar winner Sir Ben Kingsley, who plays Eichmann, and seems to be playing another awards-worthy role after a few missteps like last year’s long-delayed Collide, the Focus film Self/Less with Ryan Reynolds and Ridley Scott’s Exodus: Gods and Kings. Kingsley has also appeared in a number of family films including Jon Favreau’s The Jungle Book and the last Night at the Museum movie, but he always seems to recover even after appearing in the worst movies. (On the flip side, he’s far too often ignored in some of his better recent movies, as well.)

Prestige films have often done well over Labor Day, maybe because they’re targeting adults over 30 with George Clooney’s The American and The Constant Gardener being two of the breakouts with $16.6 million and $10.9 respectively. If that doesn’t sound like a lot, just look at the last few Labor Days when movies like The Light Between Oceans barely grazed $6 million in 2016. Another good comparison for this one might be the 2011 Focus Features release The Debt, starring Helen Mirren and Jessica Chastain, which opened with $12.5 million over the four-day Labor Day holiday and grossed $31.2 million total. It’s a similar mix of new and old generation of actors, but that also got a much bigger push by Focus with Mirren being more of a proven draw than Kingsley, by far.

What Operation Finale has going for it is its intriguing premise, and although reviews are mixed, there’s enough positive ones that older adults with few options will give this a look-see.  Opening in around 1,850 theaters, I could see Operation Finalemaking close to $6 million or slightly moreover the four-day weekend (plus another $1 or 2 million on Weds and Thursday), and that should be good for $15 to 20 million total.

Mini-Review: It’s not too surprising Chris Weitz would take on serious historical subject matter like this as he continues his attempts to be taken seriously as a filmmaker after walking away from the world of studio franchises. It may be surprising (to some) that he’s actually really good at this sort of genre film, creating a tense and infinitely interesting film in the bargain.

Oscar Isaac plays the f*ck-up Mossad agent Peter Malkin who is sent to Buenos Aires to retrieve the evil Nazi mastermind Adolph Eichmann (Ben Kingsley) and bring him back to Israel to try for his crimes. Along with a team of fellow agents, they plot out a scheme that involves nabbing Eichmann when he returns from his job, and it mostly goes as planned until they have to figure out a way to get him to the airport with the airline balking at taking part in a potentially troublesome international incidence.

Working from a fantastic script by Matthew Orton, Weitz creates a great deal of tension during the second and third acts, as the Mossad needs to keep Eichmann hidden away from the Argentine forces who are trying to rescue him. (Unfortunately, there’s a fairly large Nazi faction forming in Buenos Aires who are trying to protect Eichmann.)

This section features some of the best scenes, particularly between Isaac and Kingsley, who are so good together, they deliver some of the finest dramatic moments in any movie this year. Both actors are as great as always, but you can tell that they each pushed the other one to be even better than usual. I’d love to see either or both get awards recognition.

The results are a political thriller that’s relevant to the times without hitting the viewer over the head with that fact (ala BlacKkKlansman), but also a fairly entertaining film in the vein of Argo and others.

Rating: 8.5/10

KIN (Lionsgate)

The other new release being given a moderately wide release is the feature directorial debut from Jonathan and Josh Baker, who previously made a 15-minute short called “Bag Man,” on which this sci-fi crime thriller was based. In fact, you can watch the short below without worrying about spoilers because it’s somewhat of a prequel:

The short was seen by producer Shawn Levy who produced the feature with his 21 Laps Entertainment production company. If that sounds familiar, it might be because Levy produced the Amy Adams sci-fi thriller Arrival, as well as the hit Netflix show Stranger Things from the Duffer Brothers.

Newcomer Myles Truitt, who has appeared on Queen Sugarand Black Lightning, plays Eli, a 14-year-old boy from Detroit who finds an alien blaster in a deserted warehouse, and when his adopted brother Jimmy (Jack Reynor from Sing Street) gets into trouble with local criminals, they go on the run with Eli using the blaster for them to get money from other corrupt individuals.

The cast is rounded out by Dennis Quaid, whose last movies were the faith-based hit I Can Only Imagine and the canine drama A Dog’s Story, James Franco as one of the baddies and Zoë Kravitz as a stripper they meet along the way.  Oh, yeah, and the movie is PG-13, so you don’t have to worry about nudity or blood and gore, cause there’s none of that.

In fact, this is a fairly bland genre film, a bit like Sleight, which was released last year after making waves at Sundance and being picked up by WWE Films and BH Tilt for distribution. That only opened in 565 theaters and made $1.7 million opening weekend and less than $4 million total. We also have to look at another sci-fi film opened over Labor Day two years ago, Fox’s Morgan, which bombed with $2 million in 2,020 theaters despite much bigger names. A month earlier, Lionsgate opened Nerve, a high-concept thriller involving the internet which did far better with $38.5 million.

One has to assume this won’t do nearly as badly as Morgan or Sleight, but it’s unsure whether it can make more than $5 million over the long weekend with no real draw besides the cool visuals. (Quaid is long past being a draw and Franco might still be a little taboo after his #TimesUp faux pas last year.) Expect Kin to end up somewhere near the bottom of the top 10 and mostly be forgotten by the handful of people who do go to see it.

Mini-Review: There are so many science fiction movies that take what might have been a decent premise but can’t find a good way to use it, and that’s certainly the case with this feature expansion on Jonathan and Josh Baker’s “Bag Man” short (which you can watch above).

Myles Truitt is Eli, who we watch finding a high-tech weapon in an abandoned warehouse near a couple bodies. We’ll learn much later that this a gun from another race/planet, but before that, we learn that his brother Jimmy (Jack Reynor) has gotten out of jail and his father (and Eli’s adopted father) Hal (Dennis Quaid) warns Eli to watch out for Jimmy. Sure enough, Jimmy owe a lot of money to James Franco’s Taylor, who tells Jimmy to get the money from his father’s work safe. This sets up the main storyline where Taylor and Jimmy clash while stealing the money and Taylor heads out with Eli to run away from Taylor and his goons. At the same time, a couple alien military types show up where Eli found the gun, wanting it back.

The plot seems fine and if Kin was just a family drama, it might be okay but kind of bland. Most of the movie just follows Eli and Jimmy on the road, getting into trouble with the money, but when they get to a strip club and meet Zoe Kravitz as a stripper, Eli’s high-tech gun gets them out of that trouble.

I think the biggest drag about Kin is by how bad Dennis Quaid is in the movie, and Jack Reynor (who was amazing in Sing Street) is even worse, and then you have James Franco chewing the scenery in every scene. Basically, you have a movie that isn’t well-written to  begin with being dragged down by lopsided performances.

The movie’s best parts are the moments between Zoe Kravitz and first-timer Myles Truitt, but that’s not good  enough for a movie that seems to struggle to stay interesting outside of the sci-fi elements, which seem to be shoehorned into what is essentially a family drama.

It’s just disappointing to discover the Bakers just don’t have the skill or talent to make a movie like this work. If nothing else, Kin is proof positive that people who play too many video games shouldn’t be allowed to make feature-length films. Rating: 5/10

SEARCHING (Screen Gems)

After opening in nine theaters last weekend and grossing roughly $360,000 (~$40k per theater), Aneesh Chaganty’s directorial debut, the talk of Sundance, will expand moderately wide into around 1,100 to 1,200 theaters across the nation, hoping that strong word-of-mouth from opening weekend will spread.

The movie stars John Cho from Star Trek and Harold and Kumar fame as a father whose teen daughter mysteriously vanishes, and his search for her is told entirely on a computer screen. It’s something that was used recently for Unfriended: Dark Web (also produced by Russian blockbuster filmmaker Timur Bekmembatov) although this one has the added benefit of actually being good.

Cho is a great actor who is really coming into his own, and the movie should benefit from the backing of Crazy Rich Asians director Jon M. Chu who wanted to keep the love for Asian leads going, at least until next week’s The Nun (which is at least produced by Asian James Wan).

This is a really intense movie with a number of great twists, and of course Cho is fantastic, so do try to check it out this weekend. It should be good for around $5 million this weekend, more or less.

After that, we get to a few more moderately-released films opening in less than 600 theaters, neither of which I’ve seen,  unfortunately:

THE LITTLE STRANGER (Focus Features)

This historic thriller based on Sarah Waters’ book brings together Lucinda Coxon, the writer of The Danish Girl, with Room director Lenny Abrahamson, and unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to see this beforehand, so I have no idea if it’s as good as the trailer. The Little Stranger stars Domhnall Gleeson (another Star Wars vet) and Ruth Wilson from The Affair (which I’ve also never seen), and both of them have done a fair share of promotion for the film. Focus is opening it in 475 theaters on Thursday night, which is fairly moderate, but I don’t think this movie will make more than $1.5 or maybe $2 million over the four-day weekend with stronger adult fare like Operation Finale.

YA VEREMOS (Pantelion/Lionsgate)

The latest film from Pantelion is Pedro Pablo Ibarra’s Mexican drama about a young  boy named Santi who has to deal with the separation of his parents (as opposed to being separated from his parents by ICE), who also has to get surgery to save his sight. It’s obviously going to be trying to bring in Mexican audiences over the holiday weekend, opening in 350 theaters across the country. This is another one of Pantelion’s Spanish-language releases similar to La Boda de Valentina, which opened in 331 theaters right before Valentine’s Day, and it grossed less than $3 million.  The previous year, Pantelion opened Un Padre No Tan Padre in 312 theaters with similar results, so there’s probably no reason to think this one might do much better. Maybe it’ll make a little more than a million, but less than $3 million total.

On top of that, Roadside Attractions is supposed to expand Jesse Peretz’s adaptation of Nick Hornby’s JULIET, NAKED, starring Rose Byrne, Ethan Hawke and Chris O’Dowd nationwide into an unknown number of theaters, so definitely check that out ‘cause it’s great! Chances are that all three of these movies will end up outside the Top 10 with less than $2 million, though.

This week’s top 10 should look something like this… (and please note that these are all for the four-day weekend.)

1. Crazy Rich Asians  (New Line) - $28 million +12% 2. The Meg  (Warner Bros.) - $9.5 million -26% 3. Operation Finale  (MGM) - $6.8 million N/A 4. Mission: Impossible – Fallout  (Paramount) - $6.5 million -19% 5. The Happytime Murders  (STXfilms) - $5.6 million -44% 6. Christopher Robin  (Disney) - $5.1 million -20% 7. Searching  (Screen Gems) - $4.8 million +1333% 8. Kin  (Lionsgate) - $4.5 million N/A 9. Alpha  (Sony) - $4.2 million -25% 10.  BlacKkKlansman  (Focus Features) - $4 million -25%

LIMITED RELEASES

A fun movie for fans of ‘80s movies is Victor Levin’s DESTINATION WEDDING (Regatta), which stars Keanu Reeves and Winona Ryder as two strangers who meet on the way to his brother’s destination wedding in California wine country. It’s the epitome of “meet cutes” as the two of them hate each other at first (Ryder plays his brother’s ex-fiancé) but over the course of time, they bond over their snarky feelings on love, marriage and everything else. It’s a hilarious dark comedy with a great script by Levin, one of the producers of the hit show Mad about You, and it will open in New York and L.A. on Friday. This could be an amazing date movie, or it could be a date deal-breaker, but that depends on who you take to see the movie. 

My Interview with Victor Levin at NextBestPicture.com

A couple docs worth checking out this weekend:  

Don Hardy Jr. and Dana Nachman’s PICK OF THE LITTER (Sundance Selects) is a doc that follows five puppies from birth as they’re raised and trained by Guide Dogs for the Blind to become, well, guide dogs for the blind. Nachman previously directed Batman Begins, which was a favorite of mine a few years back, and this film does a similarly thorough job following the five dogs as they’re paired with families for raising and then work with trainers to pass the rigorous training and testing process before the dogs are paired with a blind person.

I wasn’t as big a fan of Laura Nix’s INVENTING TOMORROW, which opens at the IFC Center in NYC and L.A.’s Arclight Hollywood, but I did like it quite a bit. The first half of the film involves a lot of scientific stuff as it follows four groups of teenagers from Hawaii, India, Indonesia and Mexico, who are working on ecological solutions for local environmental issues that could theoretically be used on a global scale. I was really impressed with these teenagers and their path to a global Science Fair to show their work. My heart was beaming with pride that there are young people out there interested in science and improving the environment.

I wish I could say that I liked the Belgian film LET THE CORPSES TAN (Kino Lorber) from directors Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani, but there was something about the movie that really annoyed me. It’s a very stylish, quickly-cut crime-thriller that involves a group of armed robbers converging on a desolate Mediterranean villa where a painter lives. This could have been like a cool Quentin Tarantino movie with lots of nods to great genre flicks, but instead comes across like the directors were saying “Look how cool we are” throughout the movie with so many close-ups and cutaways that it boggles the mind. 

Regardless, Let the Corpses Tan opens at the Quad Cinema on Friday with the directors in person.  The Quad is also doing a companion repertory series called Origin Stories: Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani’s Footnotes to Let the Corpses Tan for those who like it. Me? I was kind of disappointed because the trailer is so cool:

Then there’s a bunch of movies I haven’t seen, so I won’t take up too much time on them.

These include a new Donnie Yen action film called Big Brother (Well Go USA) in which he plays a soldier who has to teach a group of kids.  From France comes Jean Paul Civeyrac’s A Paris Education (Kino Lorber) about a young cinephile who leaves his girlfriend behind to study film in Paris… so basically like every French coming-of-age film. Blood Fest (Cinedigm) – not to be confused with Herschl Gordon Lewis’ Blood Feast or next month’s Hell Fest—about a group of teen horror enthusiasts who attend a horror movie festival that starts killing them off. Frank Grillo and Bruce Willis star in Brian Miller’s Reprisal (Lionsgate Premiere) about a bank manager who teams up with an ex-cop to take down a violent bank robber, while Orlando Bloom and Simon Yam star in Charles Martin’s Shanghai-based film S.M.A.R.T. Chase (Universal Pictures Content Group)about a security agent sent to protect a Chinese antique.

Jack Bryan’s doc Active Measures (Super Ltd) is a timely movie about the Russian involvement in the 2016 Presidential election with new interviews with Sen. John McCain, Hillary Clinton and many more. (It also opens at the IFC Center.)

Not much on the repertory front except that the Metrograph will be playing a 30thanniversary revival run of the classic anime film Akira by Katsuhiro Otomo, which starts today. The Quad is also doing an Alain Delon series for the next two weeks.

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