#sevens give us strength for the rest of chapter 7

[r1-jw-lover]

Official John Wick Major Arcana tarot cards featuring Chapter 4 characters

Art by Julien Rico Jr, in collaboration with Lionsgate.

Sources: nerdsloveart, behance

Image descriptions below the cut:

[Start ID: 22 images featuring characters and locations from the movie "John Wick: Chapter 4" as Major Arcana tarot cards. The drawings are in black and white against a sandy beige background, and has plenty of circle motives. Roman numerals are at the top, their corresponding card title at the bottom, and the movie title "John Wick: Chapter 4" on the bottom left margin.

0: The number zero, or unnumbered, tarot card features Killa Harkan played by Scott Adkins as "The Fool". Killa is holding a 2 of spades between two fingers while giving a smug smile that shows off his set of golden teeth. He wears a ring on his right hand and the other hand is holding a stack of cards. Behind Killa is a minimalistic design resembling a casino token with details such as the diamond and clover symbols, as well as the numbers on the dice. In front of Killa is a table with two piling stacks of casino tokens, a gun, and the shadow of John Wick's head looming over a large portion of the table.

1: The number one tarot card features The Tracker or Mr. Nobody played by Shamier Anderson as "The Magician". Mr. Nobody has a smug expression on his face and is holding his rifle in a way that lets it rest slung over his shoulder. By his side is Mr. Nobody's Belgian Malinois. The backdrop consists of simplistic, grayish graphics of map vectors cropped into several circles of different sizes. There is a white-coloured infinity symbol on top of Mr. Nobody's head.

2: The number two tarot card features Rooney, aka The Ballerina, who first appeared in "John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum", as "The High Priestess". Rooney's back is facing towards us as she's performing a ballet move on a circular stage. Rooney is wearing a white crown and a dress that shows the cross tattoo on her back. In the backdrop, where Rooney's face is looking towards, are curtains with the initials "JW" written on the far ends of the frame.

3: The number three tarot card features Katia played by Natalia Tena as "The Empress". With a cool expression on her face, Katia is leaning forward against a set of railings, giving off a domineering aura. Katia is wearing a metallic necklace and a cross on her neck. Behind Katia is the crest of the Ruska Roma and a line in Russian circling around it.

4: The number four tarot card features The Bowery King played by Laurence Fishburne as "The Emperor". The Bowery King is sitting on a throne, but behind him is a pair of eyes staring menacingly at us. In front of him is a logo design with the same pair of eyes, though rendered smaller and appear less menacing, with an X crossed in between and a horizontal line capping the top of the X. At the Bowery King's feet, a few pigeons are shown in the foreground while the Brooklyn Bridge appear in the background.

5: The number five tarot card features The Elder as "The Hierophant". Behind the Elder is an Islamic floral design which extends into a more geometrical pattern. Standing in the background are two of the Elder's men.

6: The number six tarot card features John and Helen Wick, played by Keanu Reeves and Bridget Moynahan, as "The Lovers". John and Helen are smiling brightly towards each other in front of a New York night cityscape backdrop, with the Empire States building separating them at the centre. Above John and Helen is a silhouette of them pressed against each other about to kiss in front of a bright sun with the Brooklyn bridge in the background.

7: The number seven tarot card features John Wick driving his 1971 Plymouth Barracuda as "The Chariot". There is a bullet mark on the front glass pane of John Wick's car. On top is a closeup of John Wick surrounded by a circle of road markings and bullet marks.

8: The number eight tarot card features Charon played by Lance Reddick as "Strength". On top of Charon's head is the infinity symbol, and behind is a design reminiscent of a timepiece neatly decorated with knives, guns and bullets in a circle. Further behind is a faded image of the reverse side of the Gold Coin. Filling the bottom of the frame is the New York cityscape backdrop illuminated by the sun.

9: The number nine tarot card features Caine played by Donnie Yen as "The Hermit". Caine wears sunglasses and is holding a cane in his left hand and a pistol in his right. Caine's head is illuminated by a circle of bright light, which is surrounded by a dimmer, slightly bigger circle with Japanese wave patterns and then large protruding rays of black. In the backdrop are two winding trees along with a city landscape of Osaka, but they are overshadowed by Caine's black rays.

10: The number ten tarot card features L’Arc de Triomphe as "The Wheel of Fortune". The location is illustrated in such a way that looks like a clock, with the monument at the centre and twelve roads leading towards it. Surrounding the Arc de Triomphe are the letters from John Wick's name arranged in the exact order of north-west, north-east, south-west, south-east, west, north, east and south directions.

11: The number eleven tarot card features The Harbinger played by Clancy Brown as "Justice". The whole illustration is framed as if the Harbinger is contained inside an hourglass, with a half-body portrait of the Harbinger at the top and a full-body silhouette of him forming at the bottom from the sand flowing downwards. Behind the Harbinger's portrait is the Latin quote, "si vis pacem, para bellum", whereas next to the Harbinger's silhouette is a crescent moon. Along the sides of the hourglass outside are two duel pistols facing opposite directions on each side.

12: The number twelve tarot card features Koji Shimazu played by Hiroyuki Sanada as "The Hanged Man". Except for his feet, Koji is portrayed as an vertically-inverted reflection of himself on a pool of water. Koji is holding a katana and his head is surrounded by a circle of dim light and a brighter, slightly larger circle made of Japanese wave patterns. As seen in the reflection, behind him are cherry blossom trees and the Osaka city landscape.

13: The number thirteen tarot card features John Wick, aka the Baba Yaga, played by Keanu Reeves as "Death". John Wick is holding a pair of nunchucks in his right hand. Behind John Wick is a city landscape of Osaka lighted by the moon while his head is surrounded by a row of skull pictograms and two rows of bullets. There is also an faded image of the reverse side of the Gold Coin behind John Wick.

14: The number fourteen tarot card features Winston played by Ian McShane as "Temperance". Winston is holding up a wine glass with a capital C labelled on it, and there are multiple swords projecting from his back like wings. Behind Winston is the hotel name "Continental" and numerous halos of various fonts and patterns, along with the cityscape of New York, with the Statue of Liberty and the Empire States building in sight.

15: The number fifteen tarot card features The Marquis, Vincent Bisset de Gramont, played by Bill Skarsgård as "The Devil". Behind the Marquis is his signature emblem with two black knives crossed behind his head. The emblem is surrounded by two rows of knives. In the background is the night cityscape of Paris with the Eiffel Tower in view, illuminated by a moon that is surrounded by a snake or serpent that's chasing its own tail.

16: The number sixteen tarot card features the New York Continental Hotel as "The Tower". The top floors of the Continental Hotel are being set on fire as the small dark silhouette of John Wick and the debris carried along fall from its rooftop.

17: The number seventeen tarot card features Akira played by Rina Sawayama as "The Star". Illuminating behind Akira is a star resembling a six-pointed shuriken with two Japanese stork paintings on its left and right, which is further surrounded by a circle of alternating arrow fletchings and four-pointed shuriken. Akira is holding a bow and arrow and standing tall as the bodies of two men lie dead around her. In the background are the branches of cherry blossom trees and the sun or moon shining behind Akira.

18: The number eighteen tarot card features John Wick's and Mr. Nobody's dogs as "The Moon". The two dogs are staring up at the crescent moon, which is shaped as if John Wick's head is covering portions of the full moon. Surrounding the crescent moon are small stars and a illustration of the cycle of the moon phases. The two dogs are sitting on a road leading into an ambiguous city landscape in the background.

19: The number nineteen tarot card features the Sacré-Coeur as "The Sun". The rays of the sun spread out far and wide as wisps of clouds drifts behind the giant church. A dark silhouette of John Wick can be seen on the top open window of the Sacré-Coeur.

20: The number twenty tarot card features Chidi played by Marko Zaror as "Judgement". Behind Chidi is the emblem of the Marquis with a black knife cutting across behind his head. Below Chidi are the High Table's heavily armoured soldiers who are backdropped by a big splatter of sandy beige.

21: The number twenty-one tarot card features John Wick as "The World". John Wick's back is facing towards us with his head glancing back, showing us his face. Overlayed on top of him is his surname "Wick" with the "I" replaced by a bright silhouette of a walking John Wick. A circle of bullets surrounds John Wick and bullet marks scatter around him as the emblems of the High Table, the Marquis, the Adjudicator, and the Gold Coin fill all four corners of the frame.

./End ID]

#john wick #john wick 4 #jw4 #john wick chapter 4 #keanu reeves #tarot cards #official art #not my art #images #image description #baba yaga #mr nobody #shamier anderson #helen wick #john and helen #caine #caine john wick #donnie yen #koji shimazu #hiroyuki sanada #marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont #bill skarsgård #akira john wick #rina sawayama #scott adkins #ian mcshane #lance reddick #laurence fishburne #clancy brown

[bloodylullaby]

Give Me Something Beautiful

Summary: Morrigan's ordinary life takes an extraordinary turn when Noah Sebastian, the lead singer of Bad Omens, stumbles upon her quaint little shop adorned with her captivating photography. Intrigued by her talent and drawn to her genuine spirit, Noah invites Morrigan to capture the essence of his band's concert through her lens. Their initial friendship blossoms into a deep and meaningful connection as they spend time together, fueled by their shared love for art and music. Despite their challenges as their worlds collide, Morrigan and Noah navigate the complexities of fame and intimacy, ultimately finding solace and strength in each other's arms. Through their journey from strangers to lovers, they discover that amidst life's chaos, true beauty lies in the simple moments shared between two souls destined to be together.

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x OC

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 3280

MasterList

Tag List: @thescarlettvvitch @malerieee @lookwhatitcost @herbhuntress @thatgirlforever5 @xxkittenkissesxx @lma1986

Chapter Seven

I groggily rub my eyes as a soft knock on my door pulls me from my slumber. With a yawn, I reach the door, feeling the weight of sleep still lingering in my limbs. Opening it, I'm greeted by Noah's equally groggy expression, but his smile instantly brightens my morning.

"Good morning," he greets me warmly before heading down the hall to wake the others. I can't help but smile back. I take a minute to stretch and clear away the lingering drowsiness. With a deep breath, I start getting ready for the day ahead, feeling a sense of anticipation building within me. Excited about my first day on the tour and eager to make a good impression on everyone I am meeting, I put extra effort into my appearance. I carefully select an outfit that perfectly balances casual and chic.

 I opt for a short black skirt paired with a cropped black turtleneck, creating a sleek and sophisticated silhouette. To add a touch of flair to my ensemble, I cinch my waist with my trusty corset belt, adorned with O-rings in the shape of a heart. As I slip into my favorite pair of platforms and accessorize with a few carefully chosen pieces of jewelry, I can't help but feel a surge of excitement for the day ahead. Stepping out of my room, I'm greeted by Noah and the rest of the group. 

Together, we go to a nearby Denny's for breakfast, ready to energize for the day. Sitting across from Noah and next to Jolly, a soothing sense of fulfillment washes over me. Joining their conversation, I find myself drawn into their lively discussion. As we continue chatting over breakfast, our conversation flows effortlessly from one topic to the next. Noah shares funny stories from past tours while Jolly adds witty remarks, keeping us all entertained.

After finishing our meal, we linger a bit longer, hesitating to start the day. Eventually, we gather our belongings and head out, reluctant to leave. “What’s our first stop?” I inquired, eager to gain insight into our itinerary for the day. 

"We have a series of interviews lined up, kicking off at 8," Folio informs me with a smile. Glancing at my phone, I notice that it's already 7:30. With a nod of understanding, I join them as we head towards the waiting van while Bryan heads off to prepare for his tasks, leaving me one of his cameras. The twenty-minute drive passes swiftly, and as we enter the building for our first round of interviews, I'm immediately struck by the bustling activity and organized chaos accompanying such events. People rush around, and the boys are quickly whisked away to ensure they look their best and have everything they need.

Standing awkwardly by the cameras, another photographer approached me. "Hey, you look new around here. I don't think I've seen you with them before,” she stated. “ I'm Kristina, by the way. What's your name?" she asked with a friendly smile. I returned the smile, my awkwardness slowly melting away.

“I’m Morrigan, and today is my first official day. I am extremely nervous,” I replied with a chuckle. 

"Nice to meet you, Morrigan!" Kristina responds warmly. "Don't worry; feeling nervous on your first day is totally normal. You'll do great!" she assures me with an encouraging smile. Her words help ease my nerves, and I feel more confident as we prepare for the interviews. As she walks away, I notice Noah walking towards me with a goofy smile. 

"How are you doing? Are you feeling okay?" Noah asks me eagerly, excitement shining in his eyes. I nod and give him a thumbs up, trying to match his energy. Noah gives me a quick yet reassuring hug before leading me over to where they'll be sitting for the interview. He pats the space beside him, indicating that I should sit there. I settle in, waiting for the others to gather before the interview begins.

As we wait for the others to join us, Noah engages me in casual conversation, helping to ease any lingering nerves. We share lighthearted jokes, laughing together as we anticipate the upcoming interviews. Soon, Nick, Folio, and Jolly join us, taking their seats as I get up and move by the cameras to take my position. As I adjust the camera, Noah flashes me an encouraging smile, which fills me with a sense of reassurance and confidence.

The interview is going exceptionally well. The boys exude their passion for their craft through their articulate words and expressive body language, captivating everyone present. Snapping candid shots of them relaxed on the couch infuses the photographs with a charming authenticity, especially when they playfully make subtle, amusing faces in my direction. Noah proves to be the main instigator; whenever I point the camera at him, he never fails to offer a small, lighthearted gesture, ensuring my comfort behind the lens.

From time to time, Kristina strolls to my side to check on me and ensure I'm still doing okay. During these moments, I take the opportunity to share some of the pictures I've been capturing, and she never fails to offer kind compliments on my photography skills. I noticed Noah would tense a little whenever she came around me and discreetly stared in our direction. His behavior left me puzzled, prompting me to cast him a questioning glance. However, each time I attempted to address the issue, he would brush me off, pretending nothing had changed in his demeanor.

As my confusion about Noah's behavior continued to gnaw at me, I became increasingly preoccupied during the rest of the interview. Even as I focused on capturing photographs and engaging with the group, Noah's unusual reactions lingered in the back of my mind. After the interview wrapped up and the group dispersed, I approached Noah, determined to address the elephant in the room. "Hey, Noah," I began tentatively, "I couldn't help but notice that you seemed a bit... off whenever Kristina was around. Is everything okay?"

Noah's initial reaction was one of surprise, quickly masked by a forced smile. "Yeah, everything's fine," he responded a bit too hastily, his gaze flickering away. With a brief excuse, he moved toward Nick, pulling him aside for a private conversation. Feeling increasingly perplexed, I scanned the room for Kristina and made my way over to her.

"Hey, Kristina, do you have a moment?" I asked, offering her a warm but slightly strained smile. She returned the gesture kindly and nodded. Together, we made our way to a quiet corner of the room.

"What's up?" Kristina asked, her expression filled with concern. "You seem a little nervous and out of it." I let out an awkward laugh before responding.

"Every time we're together, Noah has been acting strange. Do you have any idea why? I tried to ask him about it, but he quickly brushed me off and then ran off," I explained, confused and frustrated.

Her eyes lit up, and she let out a chuckle. "Oh, that," she said. "I'm best friends with one of his exes. We occasionally run into each other in the entertainment industry, but usually, he's more composed than this. He must really hold an attachment to you," she explained, offering a knowing smile. My cheeks instantly turned pink, and I attempted to hide them, but to no avail, as Kristina noticed and let out a small laugh.

"It's not like that," I murmured shyly. Kristina raised an eyebrow at me, clearly skeptical of my protest. I doubled down. “We’re just friends. You can ask any of the boys. There is nothing between us.” 

She playfully rolls her eyes and lightly laughs. "Whatever you say, hun. Rest assured, though, it wouldn't bother me if you guys had something going on. Just be careful," Kristina replied with a reassuring smile, her tone conveying genuine concern. 

Nervousness suddenly struck me. "Are you going to tell her about me?" I asked, feeling a knot of apprehension tighten in my stomach. Kristina raised her eyebrow again and gave me a sympathetic smile.

"I'm not sure. It's still a tough subject for her," she said, sensing my worry. I gave her a concerned look. “Nothing too bad happened between them. Honestly, they just weren't a good fit. They were great people separately, but together, they were just toxic with one another. It happens," she explained reassuringly, trying to ease my concerns.

Feeling relieved by Kristina's explanation, I nodded slowly, grateful for her honesty and understanding. "Thanks for telling me," I said sincerely.

With a reassuring smile, Kristina nodded back. "Of course, anytime," she replied warmly.

Suddenly, a rush of words spilled out of me before I could stop them. "What does she look like?" I blurted out, the words tumbling from my lips hurriedly.

She stood there, momentarily caught off guard, before letting out a short, loud laugh that drew the attention of Noah and Nick. Noah glanced over, a hint of concern and annoyance in his expression. "Sorry," Kristina said with a smile, appreciating my candid question. "Give me a second." With a swift movement, she pulled out her phone and, within the next moment, turned it around to show me.

As soon as I saw her picture, my heart stopped. She was gorgeous—gothic like me, but somehow even better. She embodied everything I aspired to be, and that realization stung a little. The fact that Noah was with someone so stunning left me feeling disheartened. What chance did I ever have if he was with a goddess like her? Kristina's suggestion that there could be something more between Noah and me suddenly felt like a distant dream, overshadowed by the stark reality of his previous relationship.

I cleared my throat, summoning a smile to cover up my insecurity. "Wow, she's extremely beautiful," I stated, maintaining a cheerful tone. My comment did the trick, as Kristina responded with a big smile and an agreeing nod. We exchanged a few more words before parting ways, and I returned to join the boys. Jolly lit up when he saw me and warmly draped a friendly arm around my shoulder.

"Having fun?" Jolly asks with a big smile, unaware of the slight tension going on with Noah. As Jolly's question hangs in the air, I glance at Noah, who looks at me with a strained smile. Sensing the underlying tension, I quickly redirect the conversation, responding to Jolly with a forced smile of my own.

 "Yeah, it's been great," I reply, hoping to keep the atmosphere light and cheerful. Jolly seems satisfied with my answer and continues chatting animatedly, oblivious to the unspoken tension coming off from Noah. 

Nick approaches my side and gently replaces Jolly's arm with his own, leaning slightly to whisper in my ear. I notice Noah discreetly trying to catch a glimpse of our conversation. "Hey, are you actually okay?" Nick asks, his tone friendly and concerned. "I know Noah's been acting a little weird, but I promise it has nothing to do with you." His words offer some reassurance, and I nod gratefully, appreciating his gesture of support.

Suddenly, Nick unwraps his arms from around me and gently nudges me in Noah's direction. However, due to his sheer strength and perhaps a lack of awareness of how easily I can be pushed over, I stumble and begin to fall. Thankfully, Noah quickly reacts, reaching out to catch me just in time, his arms wrapping securely around me to steady my fall. Jolly playfully hits Nick on the side of the head as they sneak off, leaving Noah and me momentarily alone. I look up and meet Noah's gaze, feeling embarrassment and gratitude.

"Hey," Noah said softly, his arms still gently balancing me before reluctantly letting go.

"Hey," I replied with a small smile, feeling warm and comfortable in his presence.

Noah clears his throat and looks past me, presumably towards Kristina. "I know that I've been acting slightly weird," he begins, his tone earnest. "But I wanted to let you know that Kristina is a close friend of a recent ex. I value you and our friendship a lot, and I was just nervous that she might say or do things that would make you look at me differently." 

I stare at Noah with admiration, appreciating his vulnerability. Without hesitation, I reach out and give him a sudden hug, catching him off guard. It only takes a second before he wraps his arms around me, sighing in relief. "First off, nothing would make me view you differently in a negative light," I murmured into his chest. "Secondly, she said nothing bad about you. She only mentioned the relationship because I asked why you were brushing me off and acting so strangely." I then lift my head and look at him, slightly caught off guard by the close proximity of our faces. With him looking down at me, our lips are at a close distance, and it makes me slightly dizzy.

I take a reluctant step back, trying to rub away the blush on my cheeks. "I did see a picture of her," I admit bashfully. "She is gorgeous," I add, glancing in every direction except Noah's.

"Hey," he says softly, gently placing his hands on my face and guiding my gaze back to his. You're gorgeous, too." My breath catches in my throat as I stare into his sincere eyes, feeling my heart race. He then kisses me gently on the forehead before squeezing my shoulders in reassurance. The warmth of his touch and the tenderness of the gesture fill me with a sense of calm and security.

“Thank you,” I say with a shy smile, feeling a mix of gratitude and bashfulness.

Noah returns my smile, his eyes full of warmth. "Anytime," he replies softly. Before we can say more, Jolly and Nick return, their playful energy breaking the moment.

"Hey, are you ready to get back to work?" Jolly asks with a mischievous grin on his face. Noah and I nodded and returned to the couch for another round of interviews. The rest of the interviews went smoothly, the boys' infectious energy lifting everyone's spirits. Noah stays close, occasionally glancing my way with a reassuring smile. Capturing more candid shots makes me feel more at ease, knowing supportive friends surround me.

As this part of the day wraps up, Kristina approaches me again. "You did a great job today, Morrigan. Those photos will turn out fantastic," she says, her smile genuine.

"Thanks, Kristina. It means a lot," I reply, feeling accomplished. After the interviews are over, we all start to pack up. Noah comes over, his arm casually draping over my shoulder. 

"Ready to head out?" he asks. "Our next stop is sound check."

"Yes," I answered excitedly. This will be my first time at a sound check, and I can't wait to take pictures of it. We gather our things and head to the van, the air buzzing with anticipation. The drive is filled with light chatter and laughter, and everyone is in high spirits. Noah's hand occasionally brushes against mine, a silent reminder of the connection we shared earlier.

When we arrive at the venue, the scene is a flurry of activity. Crew members hustle around, setting up equipment and making final adjustments. The boys quickly get into their groove, checking instruments and microphones. I stand back, camera in hand, ready to capture every moment.

Noah catches my eye and gives me a reassuring smile before joining the others on stage. As they begin their sound check, the empty venue fills with the powerful energy of their music. It's a raw, behind-the-scenes glimpse that feels intimate and exhilarating. I move around, snapping photos from different angles. The guys look so focused and passionate, and I can't help but feel proud. This is their element, and being able to document it feels like an honor.

After a while, Noah jumps down from the stage and walks over to me. "How are you feeling?" he asks, his eyes full of warmth.

"I'm Excited," I say, genuinely smiling. I can't wait to see you guys perform again."

"Good," he replies, squeezing my arm. "We'll make sure it's a show to remember."

We head backstage, where the boys continue preparing for the evening's concert and get ready for round two of the sound check. I find a quiet corner to review my photos, my heart light with the promise of the night ahead. The energy in the room is infectious, and everyone is focused and excited for the performance.

Eventually, Bryan shows up, immediately adding to the lively atmosphere. "Hey! How's it going?" he asks, grinning widely.

"Great! I'm just going through some of the photos I've taken," I reply, holding up my camera. He asked to take a look, and I gladly obliged. 

"These are kick-ass! You’ve really captured the vibe," he compliments, returning the camera. I thanked him, feeling good about everything. We spend a few minutes catching up, discussing the interviews, and sharing laughs. The second sound check is about to start, and the boys head to the stage, with me following eagerly, ready to capture every moment. As I step onto the stage, my eyes widen in amazement at the vast, empty venue, the lights casting a magical glow.

Noah looks over at me and smiles, motioning for me to stand by him. "Pretty cool, huh?" he says, his voice filled with pride and excitement.

"Yeah, it's incredible," I reply, my voice barely a whisper as I take it all in. The atmosphere is electric, even with no audience, and I can feel the anticipation building. The boys start their sound check, and I move around, snapping pictures of them as they play. Each shot captures their dedication and passion, and the intensity of their performance is evident even in this private rehearsal. Noah's presence next to me is comforting, and I find myself drawn to his every move and note.

As the sound check progresses, I catch glimpses of their friendships and playful interactions, adding a layer of authenticity to my photos. They laugh and joke; their bond as a band is evident in every exchange. Noah glances at me frequently, his eyes lighting up whenever he sees my reaction to their music. His smile is infectious, and I can't help but smile back, feeling a deep connection with him in these moments.

When the sound check ends, Noah walks over to me. "What do you think?" he asks, his eyes searching mine for approval.

"It was amazing," I say sincerely. "You guys are incredible."

He grins, looking both relieved and pleased. "I'm glad you think so. Are you ready for the real show tonight?"

"Absolutely," I reply, my excitement bubbling over. "I can't wait."

As we prepare to leave the stage, Noah gives me a quick, reassuring hug. "Thanks for being here," he whispers in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. I nodded, hoping my face wasn’t as red as it felt. With everything in place, the boys get ready for their big performance. As the concert time draws nearer, the venue starts to fill with fans. The anticipation is palpable, and I can feel the collective excitement of everyone present. I take a moment to soak it all in, knowing this will be a night to remember. As I take a final deep breath, I turn on my heels and follow the guys backstage, eager to see what the night has in store fo

#bad omens band #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #fanfic #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fluff #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian fluff #bad omens cult

[mrs-sharp]

The Eyes of Graphorns

tw: mention of death, loss, pain, alcohol

I finally did it! I translated my first piece of fanfiction. Since English isn't my first language and I don't have much time, I had to use the help of ChatGPT, and it's still not perfect, but I hope it's good enough and you still like it. Please enjoy!

You can also find it on Wattpad and Ao3.

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f! Adult mc

Summary: After the battle of Hogwarts against Ranrok and his followers was won, nothing is the same for Elaine Hopkins. Her mentor is dead, and she finds herself with a new responsibility as the guardian of the last repository. She finds support in Aesop Sharp, who escorts her after Fig's death and slowly gains her trust.

After her graduation, she disappears for seven years and eventually returns to Hogwarts, where after a long search and wait, she was finally reunited with her former potions professor. She and Sharp grow closer to each other, but soon, they discover that their destinies are interwined more deeply than expected.

-> Chapter 1 - The Battle of Hogwarts (see below)

-> Chapter 2 - Goodbyes

-> Chapter 3 - A Reunion

-> Chapter 4 - The Renegades

-> Chapter 5 - Elaine's Laughter

-> Chapter 6 - Elaine's Secret

-> Chapter 7 - Firewhisky and Despair

-> Chapter 8 - Intuition

-> Chapter 9 - The Prophecy

Chapter 1 - The Battle of Hogwarts

A pained sound escaped her lips, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her body curling forward as if someone had cast the Cruciatus curse on her, which she would have preferred now if given a choice. Elaine couldn't remember the last time she had a choice. Knowing that Fig was dead was almost unbearable. Just like that. Her own voice sounded like that of a stranger as she whimpered "No-no-no-no-no-".

Elaine Hopkins knelt in front of Professor Fig's lifeless body. She couldn't believe she had lost him. Just moments ago, he had fought side by side with her to defend Hogwarts and the entire wizarding world, and now he lay there, his gaze empty. Dead. She had unconsciously held herself together as he directed his final words to her, to give him reassurance in the moments before his death. She felt the control over her emotions gradually slipping away as she realized what had just happened. She had lost her mentor and watched him die.

Suddenly, a hand and some calm, reassuring words rested on her shoulder. Elaine flinched but couldn't move.

"There's nothing more you can do for him."

As she heard the gentle sound of the familiar voice beside her, her stiffness melted away. She turned around and looked into a pair of alert eyes that seemed to convey an understanding of what she was going through. Professor Sharp stood next to her, leaning forward towards her.

"It's alright, I'm here. Please. Don't torment yourself more than necessary," Sharp's voice sounded almost pleading. There was a tone in his voice that burned through Elaine's chest, indicating that while it was important to say goodbye, to honor that one last moment, she shouldn't give in too much to the pain - at least for now. It was suddenly noticeably quiet in the cave under Hogwarts, as the battle had subsided and everyone realized what had happened. Sharp had immediately sensed that something had gone wrong, that something terrible had happened, that something was no longer as it should be. He was the first to correctly assess the situation. He had apparated instantly to the scene of the accident. To his student who had just suffered a great loss. "Come, you need to get out of here."

Elaine reached for his hand, and he pulled her up. His grip was firm, allowing her to find the stability she had just lost. Sharp wrapped his arm around her trembling shoulders. Elaine was surprised by the strength and ease with which the Potions professor had helped her up. On the way up to the Map Room, the other teachers watched them in silence - full of sorrow and horror. Elaine caught herself thinking that she was surprised by the smoothness with which Sharp moved at her side, interrupted only slightly by the limp that always accompanied the former Auror.

All sorts of accusations crossed Elaine's mind. If only Fig hadn't accompanied her on her journey to explore Ancient Magic and protect it from falling into the wrong hands. If only she had worked alone. If only she hadn't demanded so much from him.

Sharp led Elaine into his office and asked her to sit down. Like a statue, she sank into a chair in front of her Potions professor's desk and stared blankly into space. Sharp sat across from Elaine Hopkins on the other side of the table and looked at her patiently. He recognized that look. In his years as an Auror, he had seen many colleagues come and go, leaving their mark on the survivors. For some reason, seeing his student in pain hurt him a little more. Perhaps, he thought, it was because of her age and the idea that she had already endured a kind of suffering during her school years that was still difficult to bear even when one had learned to cope with it.

He could have asked her why she and Fig hadn't informed him and the other teachers earlier, why they hadn't given them a chance to support them, but he didn't. He was aware of the accusations Elaine must now face and didn't want to make it worse.

"If you'd like to talk about it, you can come to me anytime," he said instead, albeit somewhat awkwardly. Until now, he had always sat on the other side of such tables and been the one who had lost someone. Elaine was grateful that he didn't ask about what she and Fig had been working on over the last year; the tears that she had held back until this moment suddenly ran down her face. She buried her face in her hands. It tore Sharp apart to see her like this. No one should be subjected to this kind of pain. But weren't those his own words? None of us has a guarantee of survival? If he had known how soon Elaine would experience this firsthand, he might have chosen his words more carefully.

-

Sharp lay awake for a long time that night. What a day it had been. In the morning, he had been busy explaining the difference between bezoars and Ashwinder eggs to third-year students without realizing what was happening deep beneath the school at that moment. Even less could he have imagined that Matilda would rush through the school hours later in distress, talking about an emergency to gather all professors together to defend Hogwarts against trolls and goblins.

Sharp hadn't fought since the ambush where he lost his partner. Of course, he was always ready to defend himself and others, but he was sure that due to his injury, he had lost some of his abilities. Nevertheless, his senses were sharper than ever as he disapparated that evening to secure the school and, above all, support the student who was currently trying to protect whatever it was that goblins wanted.

Sharp sat on the edge of his bed and wrapped a cloak around his shoulders.

"Lumos!"

He walked over to the fireplace in his bedroom, lit it with "Incendio", and sat in one of two chairs in front of the fire.

The warmth relaxed him a bit. Since arriving at Hogwarts, the second chair in front of the fireplace had always remained empty. He didn't often receive visitors in his private quarters anyway, not least because he didn't want anyone to discover either his cane or wheelchair.

During battle, he hardly noticed his leg; he had been too focused on defensive spells and attacks while keeping an eye on what was happening on the battlefield. He had felt filled with passion during the battle - a feeling almost forgotten since his time as an Auror. It was a kind of passion only felt when one put their life on line for something significant beyond their own existence. Adrenaline surged through his body; the tension of not being allowed to make any mistake had given him the certainty that what he did mattered.

However, they suffered losses. Sharp gazed into the fire. Thinking about Fig made him sad; even sadder was remembering his student. Sharp's thoughts kept returning to her over these past few hours. She not only lost her mentor but also her trust - if it hadn’t already been lost before today. Who besides Fig knew what she had already gone through up until this day? At Fig's request back then, Sharp conducted investigations into Ranrok and goblins at Ministry but only now did complexity of situation gradually became clear to him.

Otherwise Sharp didn’t know much about Elaine Hopkins; until now his interest in her had been limited to her academic achievements which undoubtedly surprised him. Beyond that, all he knew were the rumors that she was caught hunting dark wizards outside school or rescuing lost Nifflers from poachers more than once.

This way to Chapter 2

#professor aesop sharp #aesop sharp #professor sharp #aesop sharp x mc #sharp #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy screenshots #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts oc #wizarding world #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter franchise #harry potter fandom #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic #professor sharp x mc #aesop sharp fanfiction #professor sharp fanfiction

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev || AO3 || My website

Chapter 81: June 2017

[CLICK]

[HEAVY BREATHING, SLIGHT WHIMPER]

[SOUND OF A BODY DRAGGING ITSELF ACROSS A FLOOR]

[WHISPERS BEGIN, OVERLAPPING ONE ANOTHER, JUST LOUD ENOUGH TO BE AUDIBLE, ECHOING SLIGHTLY]

GHOST 1

—hurt me, please don’t hurt me, I won’t tell—

GHOST 2

—have any money, I swear, it all went into—

GHOST 3

—think you’re doing with that, you little—

GHOST 4

—away from me, you crazy witch, I’ll have the law on—

GHOST 5

—Bookmaster, she who holds the Keys—

GHOST 6

—feeling better, I promise I am, you can—

GHOST 7

—hurts, it hurts, please make it stop, I’ll do—

GHOST 8

—me say goodbye to Martin—Martin?

[Louder] Martin! Martin—my God, is that you?

ARCHIVIST

Aah! Wh-what—how—o-oh, God.

GHOST 8

I can’t believe…

Oi! Shut up, you lot, he’s not—just—just give us a minute.

[WHISPERS FALL SILENT]

Bloody hell. Like looking in a mirror…not sure where you got those eyes, though. Don’t think mine are that bright, are they?

ARCHIVIST

Who…what are you?

GHOST 8

[Broken laugh] You’re telling me you don’t recognize your old man?

ARCHIVIST

What?!

KIERAN

Look at you. You’ve…(heh) you’ve grown since I saw you last.

[ARCHIVIST GIVES A SOFT GROAN OF PAIN]

ARCHIVIST

I was seven years old…d-did you think I…was going to shrink?

[KIERAN GIVES A GENUINE LAUGH AT THAT]

KIERAN

I see you got my temper as well as my face. That must make your mother happy.

ARCHIVIST

Explains why she…hates me so much.

KIERAN

She doesn’t hate you.

ARCHIVIST

How would you know? You were—nngh—never there.

KIERAN

Are you—you’re bleeding. You’re hurt.

ARCHIVIST

[Through gritted teeth] Brilliant deduction, Sherlock.

KIERAN

Did they do this to you?

…

I’ll kill them. By God, I don’t know how, but I’ll kill them for this.

ARCHIVIST

Don’t pretend to c-care to justify—

[HISS OF PAIN, A COUPLE OF RAGGED BREATHS]

If you want to kill them…f-fine. Fine. Just don’t pretend it’s on my account.

KIERAN

What…Martin.

Of course I care. What makes you think I don’t?

ARCHIVIST

What do you think? You left.

KIERAN

For work. I was—you’re, you’re right, I was never there, not like I should have been, but it was because I was working.

ARCHIVIST

Mum—[gasps] Mum t-told me you…weren’t coming back.

KIERAN

[Deep breath] I won’t deny I…said some things I regret. But I didn’t mean them. I was coming back.

I asked your grandfather to make sure you knew you weren’t why I left early. Didn’t he?

ARCHIVIST

…

Well…yeah, he did, but…I, I always assumed…he was just trying to buck me up.

I mean, I f-figured if, if you really c-cared about me, you…wouldn’t have left me with…her.

KIERAN

Martin. Son, I…

Jesus, that’s bad. Let me see it.

…

Ah. Aye, I probably should’ve expected that.

ARCHIVIST

I-it’s…it’s not that bad.

KIERAN

Not that bad?!    You look like a Halloween decoration!

ARCHIVIST

T-trust me, I’ve had worse. (heh) Kind of sucks that—that it’s my…dominant hand, but…I’ll live. I think.

If…if I can g-get out of here, I can…there, there must be a hospital nearby. I just…[deep breath] I d-dont have the…energy.

KIERAN

That tends to be a side effect of major blood loss.

ARCHIVIST

[Faint laugh] I think that’s…the least of my problems right now, actually.

I was…already tired. Used too much of…m-myself in there. If I…had the strength…

KIERAN

[Anguished] What do you need? I—damn it, Martin, I haven’t been able to do anything for you. Tell me—

Oh, fuck.

ARCHIVIST

[Calmly] Okay, that’s…probably not good.

KIERAN

Don’t you dare die on me, you hear me, boyo? I love you, but—

ARCHIVIST

[With a sudden burst of energy] You don’t get to say that. Not yet.

KIERAN

[Sighs] My temper, all right. And every ounce of stubbornness from both sides.

Here, if I can…I can help you. I can—

Okay, maybe I can’t rip up a pillowcase and tie that hand up for you. Wouldn’t trust that bedding anyway. She bathes more often than he does, but I still don’t know what’s on those…

Tell me what to do. Tell me how to help.

ARCHIVIST

I…

Tell me what happened.

KIERAN

What?

[FAINT GROAN FROM THE ARCHIVIST]

[FABRIC RUSTLES, THE BED CREAKS FAINTLY AS THE ARCHIVIST LEANS AGAINST IT]

ARCHIVIST

I’m…it’s, it’s a thing I’m…becoming. It’s…a long story. But when people—when they t-tell me their, things that have happened, their…(heh) their deepest, darkest secrets…I, they kind of…fuel me.

Tell me…why you left. How you…got here.

You’re, you’re dead. I didn’t—

[Realizes] F-fuck! Fuck, he—he was right. You—you were in the Book.

KIERAN

You knew about that?

ARCHIVIST

Aunt M-Mary…showed all three of us. The Book, I mean. To, to scare us into line.

Gerry…Gerry told me that…he thought you m-might have…been in it. But I didn’t…

KIERAN

Gerry?

Wait—not the Gerard those two are always going on about?

ARCHIVIST

Yeah. Gerard Keay. We…we call him Gerry.

What—how did you…

KIERAN

It’s not a nice story.

And I’m not sure—you don’t need to know that. You don’t need to…

ARCHIVIST

Hate Mum?

KIERAN

I didn’t say that.

ARCHIVIST

You didn’t have to.

[A PAUSE, BROKEN BY THE ARCHIVIST’S RAGGED BREATHING]

I work for the Magnus Institute. Taking statements is…kind of what we do. I’m…in the Archives and…I have, the-there are things I can do. Not…nice things. Not really.

KIERAN

…Will it really help you?

ARCHIVIST

Yeah. Fear…I sort of…eat it. That’s a bit of an understatement, but…so-something like that.

And…it might…connect us. Dunno. Never…never taken a statement from a ghost before. But…

Sometimes I dream about them. The, the statements. The live ones, anyway.

Do you…still dream?

KIERAN

I don’t quite know if it’s properly dreaming.

But I remember. Sometimes. When I’m not…fully here.

ARCHIVIST

M-maybe if…you remember…I’ll be there next time. Watching.

KIERAN

I don’t want that. Not for you.

…

But I’m not letting you die, either.

So. Where do you want me to start?

ARCHIVIST

At…at the beginning. I guess.

[Deep breath] Statement of…Kieran Blackwood, regarding his life and death. Statement taken direct from subject, twenty-fifth July, 2017. Recording by Martin Blackwood, Archivist, the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

KIERAN (Statement)

I didn’t know what I wanted as a kid, except that I wanted to be important.

My birthday was—is, I suppose—the second of June, and every year my parents would tell the story, tossing the parts back and forth like a well-rehearsed script until I could practically recite the lines myself—how Mum had tried to ignore the contractions so she and Da could enjoy the procession and the festivities, how it had finally got so bad that they tried to leave their spot watching and barely made it through the crowd, how no taxis were available, how Da tried to carry her himself but didn’t know where he was going because they were only visiting London for the coronation. How I was born right there on the street. Da always laughed and said I was so impatient to see the new queen myself that I couldn’t wait even another hour. I always hated that story, not because it was embarrassing but because it wasn’t really about me. It was about them, and about the coronation. I told Da once that if I’d been able to pick when I was born I’d have picked a day that nothing else was happening so that I was what people would remember, but he just laughed.

I don’t think he got it.

Once I started school, I went out for everything I could, trying to find something I would be the best at and make a name for myself. None of it really stuck. Looking back, I had bought into the idea that if I wasn’t a prodigy and immediately good at something, I never would be—or at least, that I would never be great. Of course everyone eventually improved with practice, but I rather had it in my head that I’d never reach the top if I didn’t start off halfway up the hill. So I would try something for a week or two, then abandon it as soon as I got my first critique. The only thing I was decent at, not even good, but had some talent with, was swimming—and even then it wasn’t necessarily speed or form. I wasn’t winning races or anything. But I could last longer than anyone in my class—even the teacher. Not just floating, either. I could swim for ages and not get tired.

I had a bit of skill with rowing, too, but the problem was that I was bigger and stronger than most of my mates, so in the end I wound up the coxswain for the school team. We won more often than not, but there was a part of me that was dissatisfied, no matter how loud Da cheered or how proudly Mum displayed the ribbons on the walls. I mean, how many famous rowing teams can you name?

I actually wanted to be a politician. I had dreams of being the next Winston Churchill or summat. But I had my heart set on Christ’s College at Cambridge, and my grades weren’t near good enough to get me in without some kind of advantage. And between the fact that Da was a dockworker and I never managed to successfully cover up the Geordie when I talked, I knew I’d never be taken seriously if I didn’t have a really good university degree, so I gave that up. For the first summer after I left school, I worked with Da on the docks.

That’s how I met Mikaele Salesa.

If you work for the Magnus Institute, I’m sure you’ve heard his name, you know what he does. Did, maybe, he might    be retired by now, I dunno. Back then, though, he was just starting out. Walked away from some library job, so he told me, assistant to a stuck-up old fool who could afford to indulge a weird hobby. He’d done it with a tidy nest egg, though, and was looking to set up his own business, dealing in antiques. Thought trading by sea was the way to go; it’d be cheaper, after all, and easier to evade customs if need be, although he didn’t say that part out loud. Trouble was, he was a foreigner, in a time when being foreign in England wasn’t the greatest opportunity. And I won’t pretend the sort of lad that hung about docks those days were the most open-minded of fellows.

Me, I never had a problem with them. Partly it was that having wanted to be in politics, where I figured being diplomatic and able to get along with anyone might give me an edge, but partly, well, with my background—not just being in the North, near the docks, where people expected you to be slow and stupid, but also the fact that Mum was from Belfast originally—I had a bit of sympathy for anyone seen as “other”. So when I got off shift and found him being avoided in the local, I sat down next to him and bought him a pint.

He wasn’t much older than I was, maybe ten years at best, and since he’d been born during the second World War, he had some of the same experiences I did about his birthday being overshadowed by historic events. I was fascinated by the stories I told. He was intrigued when I mentioned what skills I’d picked up, said that being able to row if we were becalmed or swim if we capsized were good things for a sailor to know. And after I told off one of my da’s mates for saying something racist, he offered me a job on his crew. Told me he needed a first mate, and if I could help him find a good boat, the post was mine.

We found her, all right, and since it was me doing the talking, we got a good rate on her too. Signed on a crew for the first voyage, provisioned her up, and the Demeter was ready to set sail.

For the first few years, it was…exactly what I’d expected. Finding artifacts, buying them, selling them to rich idiots with more money than sense. The pay was decent, definitely better than I’d have got anywhere else—a kid with no experience, I’d expected to hire on as a seaman, nothing more, and certainly not as first mate—but for me it was about the clout. See, Mikaele—he was Captain Salesa, or just Captain, in front of the crew, but in private he told me to keep calling him Mikaele—tended to treat the crew the way the old sailors did: you signed on for a voyage, you got paid off, and then he’d sign on a whole new crew when he was ready to ship out again. I think it was a way to keep anyone from really knowing what he was doing with some of those artifacts. But I was his partner, so I stayed on. And since I was the only one who’d ever sailed more than one voyage in a row with him, the men in the pubs thought I had something special.

It was what I’d wanted, so I ran with it.

They were just ordinary objects back then, nothing special—well, maybe except for the fact that some of them probably shouldn’t have left the country, if you catch my drift. But one day, maybe eight or nine years after I met him, I came to talk to him about something and found him staring at a sack full of Morgan silver dollars. I knew how rare those were, but after a moment, he looked up at me with the most serious expression I’d ever seen on the man and told me not to touch them, or to let anyone else on the crew near them. If he sold them, he promised, he’d explain everything, but until then it wasn’t safe.

I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that they were radioactive or something? But when we got back to England about six months later, after he’d sold everything and paid off the crew, he asked me to come up to his rooms and discuss “the truth”. That night he laid out everything.

I…I assume from what you said that you know about the Fourteen. That was the first I’d ever heard of them. Mikaele told me the silver dollars he’d been sold belonged to the one called the Slaughter, and that he’d been lucky to be rid of them without it sticking…but it looked like we might have a new avenue of sales. Swore me to secrecy on that front, but promised that if I kept the crew from getting too involved in the…special artifacts, he’d do right by me.

He never let me handle those objects. Said he cared too much about my safety to put me through that. I thought he was just being dramatic until he told me some about what had happened to the other people who’d worked for Jurgen Leitner, and how he’d sworn he would never be that careless with the lives of people who depended on him. Eventually, we worked it out so I handled the men and he handled the purchasing and…acquiring, and that worked well. I got good at spotting the men who’d been touched by the sorts of things that made those objects, too, and would refuse to sign them on. It was a good way to protect the artifacts, or so I thought.

It must’ve been fourteen years later that I met Liliana Koskiewicz. I remember her because she seemed so out of place with the other people that were picking over the cargo, but fit in better with the cargo itself—she looked like a Gibson girl frozen in time. Turned out she was studying archeology at Oxford—there, I bet you didn’t know that about your mum—and had come to see the cargo because she’d heard rumors Mikaele had something that was in her field of study. He had, but it was “special” cargo, so he’d already sold it. I felt bad for her, so I offered to buy her dinner as a consolation prize, and for a wonder, she accepted.

It was a whirlwind romance, which I know must come as a bit of a shock to you, but I tell you I fell head over heels for that woman the moment I met her, and she swore it was the same. Mikaele was a bit disappointed at first, it seemed to me, but after a bit he encouraged it. Said the more connections you had, the safer you were from…certain things. I was willing to take any excuse to keep courting her, and just before we set sail, I asked her to marry me. She said she’d think about it and let me know when I got back.

We were gone nine months that go-round, and when I went to her da’s farm to see her after we made port and sold off the last of the cargo, the first thing she said to me was that she accepted. She wanted a spring wedding, and Mikaele would’ve delayed sailing for it, but I talked her into a late December wedding instead on the grounds that I’d be more likely to be home for our anniversary that way.

If I’m honest, the only reason I went through with it was because of what Mikaele said about needing connections to fight back against the Fourteen. After all, I’d had nine months to think about it too, and I didn’t know her that well. But, well, I reckoned we’d get to know each other well enough, and if it didn’t work out great, at least I wouldn’t be home that much. I bought her a little house, near enough that she could go visit her da when I was out to sea but far enough that we were independent, and I made sure she had everything she might need before we set to sea again.

We’d been married two years when she told me she was pregnant. She…she wanted me to stay, but Mikaele needed me. I was still chasing that sense of being important, so I went. Promised I’d be back before you were born, but…well, you were early. We were in Malta when Alastair called—long distance and all—to tell me Lily’d been taken to hospital and it wasn’t looking good. Mikaele bought me a plane ticket and told me to get home to my family. Before I left, he gave me a talisman, some little thing made of bone and silver. He told me he didn’t think it was one of those, but that it had a bit of power in it and might…make a difference.

We—we almost lost both of you. You were a breech, and when I got there, it turned out the umbilical cord had got wrapped around your neck. Between that and the fact that you were so early they weren’t sure your lungs had developed all the way, they weren’t sure you were going to make it. And Lily…they had to do a C-section on you in the end, and she had a bad reaction to the anesthesia or summat like that. She was in a coma and they didn’t think she was going to ever come out of it.

I looked at the thing Mikaele had given me. There was a notch in it, and I thought if I…maybe it would help you both. So I snapped it in half. Put one side on your incubator and the other tucked under Lily’s pillow and hoped.

You recovered, obviously. Both of you. You were actually fine less than four hours later, and I got to hold you for the first time…I’d, I’d never felt anything like that. I was thirty-five years old and it was like I was living for the first time. Lily took a bit longer, but she eventually came round, and all was well, or so I thought.

Lily never completely recovered. It was gradual, so her da didn’t notice and neither did she—or at least she said she didn’t—but, well, I went out again when you were six months old, soon as the winter storms had passed, like always, and when I got back I could see she not only wasn’t better, she was…getting worse. At the time, I put it down to the fact that you were cutting teeth, and you were prone to ear infections back then too, so you cried unless you were being held most of the time. Your grandfather was a godsend, but he had the farm to take care of, and so most of it fell on Lily. I took over while I was home, but…well, I had to go back out again eventually.

That’s when we started fighting. She wanted me to give up sailing and get a job closer to home. I argued we needed the money—now more than ever, between you getting bigger every day and her getting sicker every week. She said if she was so sick, why wasn’t I there to help her? Round and round we went, and it always ended the same, with her going to bed early with a headache and me stomping out the door and going down the pub.

And through it all, there you were. Staring up at me with those big green eyes of yours—they weren’t so bright back then, but they were always so full of love and wonder and trust. I’d have done anything for you.

Except stay.

The final straw came just after the new year when you were seven. Mikaele had suggested we all, as a family, go out on the water and watch the fireworks on the shore to welcome in 1996. You were…so excited. It was all you’d been talking about for a week, getting to see the Demeter and see what I did for a living and finally meet “Uncle Kay”—that’s what you called him, you had trouble with “Mikaele”. And then, just as we were getting ready to go, Lily said she wasn’t feeling well. I was all set to get her settled on the couch or in bed and offer to spend the night on the boat so we wouldn’t disturb her when she told you to hang up your coat and go make her a cup of tea—the oolong, not the bagged kind. I said I’d do it and for you to go wait by the car, but Lily snapped that she’d told you to do it and you needed to learn responsibility.

I wasn’t being funny when I said you had my temper. I blew up on her, said more than a few things I’d been holding back longer than I knew. I accused her of faking her symptoms for sympathy, or to punish the rest of us, or to manipulate us—hell, I didn’t know why, and I didn’t care. Told her she could be as miserable as she wanted but she had no right to make the rest of us miserable too. She gave as good as she got, saying I’d never loved her, I didn’t have any sympathy for her, I obviously hadn’t meant it when I said “in sickness and in health”, on and on and on. We wound up shouting at one another, and then I saw you standing in the doorway with her cup of tea and tears in your eyes, and I made myself stop. I told you we could go, but you just very quietly said no, thank you, that you would stay and take care of your mother, but for me to tell Uncle Kay you said hello.

I didn’t go to the ship that night. I went over to Alastair’s, and I must’ve ranted at him for an hour. He just sat there and listened—you know what he was like—and at the end of it, suggested I take a short break away from Lily, that things might look better after we’d both had a rest. And I agreed. At first I was going to…I don’t know, stay in town for a bit maybe…but Mikaele got a line on something that, if it panned out, would have let us retire for life after the next voyage, and there was a calm spell, so we got a crew together sharpish and sailed out.

It didn’t. Pan out, that is—someone beat us to it, we never did find out who. And of course the winter storms came back with a vengeance, so we wound up in Gibraltar for six weeks waiting for an opportunity to sail again. During that time, I talked things over with Mikaele, and he agreed with Alastair that a break wouldn’t be a bad thing.

I also talked to him about Lily’s illness. I’d never really mentioned it to him; there was a sort of silent sense that anything that happened on land—well, except you—stayed there, and vice versa. But I laid it all out for him, every symptom and surge, everything that had happened back to your birth. He listened with a curious sort of look on his face, and then he asked the question I’d never thought about. He asked what happened to the talisman he’d given me. I explained what I’d done, and he nodded, said I’d done exactly what I was supposed to, but he wanted to know what had happened after that.

It wasn’t until…later that I found out the answer. Lily found the half I’d tucked under her pillow, recognized it was broken, and…I don’t know. Maybe she’d heard something of the Fourteen before. Her da worked for the Institute himself, you know, so he might have given her a bit of warning. Anyway, she asked the nurses if they’d seen the other half, and they eventually found it and gave it to her.

From what Mikaele told me, what he’d eventually learned or figured out—I never did ask how—was that it was meant to separate and spare two lives. It wasn’t…exactly one use only, but it had an odd sort of catch to it. You weren’t meant to keep it, and once you’d used it, you were supposed to bury the halves together in the earth, where they would…reform? I don’t know. It was all a bit bizarre to me. Obviously Lily hadn’t done that, but…well, we’ll get there.

Anyway, we were out to sea for eighteen months that go-round. I felt bad about missing your birthday that year—I wrote you a letter, sent you a gift, but I don’t know if you ever got it—and worse about missing Christmas, but we’d done well enough by the end of it that I could have retired, and I was considering it. I told Mikaele when we pulled into port that I was going to give it one last go talking to Lily, see if we could reconcile, because I did still love her, just not the same way I had at the beginning. And I never wanted to leave you.

Obviously, you know that when I went back to Devon, there was someone else in the house I’d bought for Lily, and they told me they’d paid cash for it from a lady who’d taken her son to London. I thought that seemed a bit odd, but at the same time, I was hoping there was a specialist she was seeing regularly and she was doing better, so I got her address and headed down. I was looking forward to seeing both of you, so much.

Somehow, she knew I was coming. There was a note on her door addressed to me when I got into town, and when I opened it, it had an address and said she’d be there all afternoon. I assumed the family who’d bought the house had called her, so I went to where it said. Turned out to be a shop—a place called Pinhole Books. The door was unlocked, so I went in.

And Lily was waiting for me. Pretty as a picture, sweet as sugar. With an antique razor in one hand and a cane in the other.

I won’t go into details, but I will say she didn’t do it alone. There was another woman, old enough to be her mother, holding her steady and coaching her through it. Everything went black, and for a while I thought that was it.

If you know about the Book, you know what she did after that. She used to summon me from time to time. Talk to me, taunt me. Tell me what she was up to. That’s how I found out what she’d done with the talisman. She’d figured out how to join it back together, and thought it would protect her from sickness, but…that wasn’t its purpose. And because she tried to keep it, instead of give it away, it was corrupting her. I begged her to get rid of it, and eventually she finally admitted that she’d already destroyed it, after she met Roger, and it hadn’t helped. Mary—who I assumed was the woman who helped her kill me—had ideas that would help her, she said, but she wouldn’t really tell me what they were. Sometimes she’d summon me and just…leave me there. It hurt, and she knew it hurt, and she said she wanted me to feel a little of what she was feeling.

And no matter how much I pleaded, she wouldn’t let me see you.

The last time I saw her was eight years after she killed me, which I only know because I told her fifty looked good on her and I thought she was going to kill me again when she told me, very sharply, that she’d only just turned forty. She looked closer to sixty, but, well, you don’t need me to tell you that. She recovered fast, though, and told me that the next time we spoke, I’d never know how old she was. She had found a way to stay young and beautiful forever, and, she said, when the Bookmaster took the lead, I would know everything. Then she wished me luck, said she would see me soon, and dismissed me.

I can’t tell from looking at you how long it’s been since then, but I reckon that didn’t work out so well for her.

ARCHIVIST

And how are you…here? I thought the Book got burned.

KIERAN

It did. I think.

I don’t know too much about how all this works, but as near as I can tell, all of us who were in those pages—the ones who weren’t summoned, anyway, since I think your Gerard was involved, from what I’ve heard those two say—were set free when it burned, but not all the way. We’re loose in the world again, but we can’t go very far from the Bookmasters.

ARCHIVIST

The Bookmasters?

KIERAN

Those two bastards in the other room. Don’t ask me why, I just…knew that’s what they were when I saw them.

ARCHIVIST

It…it makes sense. I think.

…

Twelve years.

KIERAN

Eh?

ARCHIVIST

Since she—it’s been twenty years since she killed you. She tried to do…whatever it was, I still don’t know…twelve years ago.

And you’re right. It didn’t work. That was when she started needing round-the-clock care, couldn’t leave the house except to see her doctors, the whole nine yards. I dropped out of school and…well, that’s when I went to work for the Institute. Roger got fired around the same time—he had early onset dementia, it was just starting to get bad about then—and Melanie couldn’t fake being an adult like I could back then.

KIERAN

I wish you hadn’t felt like you had to do that.

ARCHIVIST

Me, too, but…I think I needed to be there. Eventually.

KIERAN

Twenty years…so you’re twenty-eight then? No, twenty-nine.

ARCHIVIST

I will be in August. If I live that long. If the world doesn’t end.

KIERAN

[Fiercely] You’re not dying.

ARCHIVIST

Yes, sir.

[More seriously] I’m okay. That…thank you. For, for giving me the statement. It…helped. A lot.

KIERAN

Good. Now you can get that hand—

…Oh.

Blimey, how long was I talking?

ARCHIVIST

Not nearly that long.

Yeah, that’s, um, probably not a good sign, but…[sighs] you know what, at this point, I don’t really have time to worry about it.

KIERAN

What’s your next move, then?

ARCHIVIST

I need to get back to London. Hopefully without the Van Helsings in there sending me back in pieces, or calling Gerry—or Jon.

KIERAN

…Okay, you told me who Gerry is, and Lily mentioned Roger’s girl Melanie, but who’s Jon?

ARCHIVIST

My b—

…

Um…he’s my…boyfriend.

KIERAN

(heh) Does Roger approve?

ARCHIVIST

He died five years ago.

But…you know, I think he would have liked him.

I think you’d like him. If you met him.

…

Maybe you’ll get the chance.

KIERAN

I doubt that, boyo.

ARCHIVIST

I’ll come back. When, when I figure out how to set you all free.

I will figure it out. What’s the good of working for the embodiment of fearful knowledge if I can’t occasionally learn something to my advantage?

[KIERAN LAUGHS. AFTER A MOMENT, THE ARCHIVIST JOINS IN]

KIERAN

Aye, maybe there’s something to that.

Let me rally the others. We can distract the Bookmasters, maybe keep them busy for a while, so you can get away. Do you—no, that window’s a bit small—ah, no offense.

ARCHIVIST

None taken. But believe me, I’ve forced my way through much smaller spaces than that.

…Thank you.

KIERAN

I’m just glad I can help.

And I’m glad to know that I finally became something important after all.

ARCHIVIST

What’s that?

KIERAN

Martin Blackwood’s father.

ARCHIVIST

…

You know…it’s a good thing Mum is the way she is.

KIERAN

Eh? Why is that?

ARCHIVIST

It long ago disabused me of the notion that parents have to love and be proud of their kids no matter what.

Otherwise I might not have believed you meant that.

KIERAN

Martin.

[FAINT FABRIC RUSTLES]

There has not been one single moment since the nurse put you in my arms that I have not been proud of you.

I love you, son.

ARCHIVIST

…

I love you, too, Papa.

[CLICK]

#ollie writes fanfic #tma fanfic #to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest) #martin blackwood #death #unreality #injury #bleeding #arguments #mention of murder #implied/referenced emotional abuse #the formatting is better on AO3 #or my website

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for February 22, 2023 (Ash Wednesday)

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Provbuilt1-5:(KJV):

1 Wisdom hath built her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars:

2 She hath killed her beasts; she hath mingled her wine; she hath also furnished her table.

3 She hath sent forth her maidens: she crieth upon the highest places of the city,

4 Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither: as for him that wanteth understanding, she saith to him,

5 Come, eat of my bread, and drink of the wine which I have mingled.

Thought for the Day

These verses contain a powerful message. Wisdom, personified as a woman, calls us to her banquet of "best things," in contrast to the foolish woman mentioned later in chapter 9, who calls the simple to drink "stolen waters." Here, as in chapter 8, wisdom is more than a trait or quality. It is a symbol of Jesus, who is also referred to as the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valleys, the One who brings us to His banqueting table (Song of Solomon 2:4).

Wisdom has built a house; Jesus tells us how to build ours. These "houses" do not mean our physical residences, but our spiritual houses (Matthew 7:24-27). The storms of life come against the houses of both the wise and foolish, but only those of the wise remain standing after being battered. The wise are those who obey God's Word, putting into practice what they learn. The foolish hear His Word, but do not act on what they hear. If we desire our "financial houses," "career houses," and families to withstand life's storms, we about the commandments of God about each.

Verse 1 - In Scripture, numbers are not simply digits used in arithmetic; as all Hebrew names and numbers have meanings. What does it mean when it says that Wisdom has "hewn out her seven pillars?" A carpenter k that the pillars in a house are the support beams. The seven pillars in Wisdom's house symbolize that the house has perfect support because symbolically the number seven stands for perfection or completeness. When the structure of our lives rests upon Biblical principles, our building is not in vain. "Exceplabor LORD builds the house, they labor in vain that build it..." (Psalm 127:1).

Verses 2-5 - The remainder of these verses describe the banquet that Wisdom has prepared. She has butchered her meat and set her table with wine. She invites those who will listen to "come and dine." This is a picture of Jesus' invitation to come and eat His bread (understand His Word) and drink His wine (receive the Holy Spirit). This invitation is still going out from the Master today.

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, how grateful we are that You have made such wonderful things for us to feast on, at Your table. It is so wonderful to understand Your Word and to know the presence of the Holy Spirit. We do need Your help in building and setting in order the things in our life. Give us Your wisdom for the task. We also need Your love and Your strength to carry out those things, that You have spoken to us to do. Lord, we want to be a blessing today, as we labor in Your Kingdom. Help us to represent You well, and to be good and kind to all of those in our homes and offices, and all that we meet, as well. Thank you for Your love and watching care over us and all of our families and loved ones. Bless and protect Your people all over the world from those things sight unseen. I ask in the name of Jesus. Amen.

From: Elder Steven P. Miller

Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups

Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA.

Twitter: @GatekeeperWatchman1, @ParkermillerQ,

@StevenPMiller6; #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller, #Eldermiller1981

Instagram: steven_parker_miller_1956

[email protected]

URL: linkedin.com/in/steven-miller-b1ab212From

[thenewdeadseascrolls]

Judges 7: 1-7. "The Young Sprout."

Gideon, "the Hewer" becomes Jerub Baal "walking in Baal's socks." Contrary to most commentaries this does not mean "contending with Baal". Rather Gideon is but a few steps ahead of the newbies he just convinced God is real in the former frame. I know I'm right because the Midianites, strifers, live north of a place called Moreh, "the early rain of the teacher" ="Early reign of the teacher."

No guide to the Jewish Self would be proper without an explanation for how the chain works. We are all in a state of Ephesus ahead of someone in their Jewishness and also behind. This point is made below.

As in the former frame, there are two tests involving the way one imbibes the water. Water is a concept unique to Judaism and to the Jew. Water is freedom. It is the specific kind that comes from being as smart, as fit, as educated, as hot, handsome, sexy, witty, brilliant, pretty, and talented at as many things as possible. Although more than a few of these things hint at something artificial, they are all like Barbie- the vestments of a person who is happy and exceedingly clever in the ways they invest in their happiness. In order to save Israel, every Jew must embrace what this means. Nothing is more Jewish than this.

Gideon Defeats the Midianites

7 Early in the morning, Jerub-Baal (that is, Gideon) and all his men camped at the spring of Harod. The camp of Midian was north of them in the valley near the hill of Moreh. 

2 The Lord said to Gideon, “You have too many men. I cannot deliver Midian into their hands, or Israel would boast against me, ‘My own strength has saved me.’ 

3 Now announce to the army, ‘Anyone who trembles with fear may turn back and leave Mount Gilead.’” So twenty-two thousand men left, while ten thousand remained.

4 But the Lord said to Gideon, “There are still too many men. Take them down to the water, and I will thin them out for you there. If I say, ‘This one shall go with you,’ he shall go; but if I say, ‘This one shall not go with you,’ he shall not go.”

5 So Gideon took the men down to the water. There the Lord told him, “Separate those who lap the water with their tongues as a dog laps from those who kneel down to drink.” 

6 Three hundred of them drank from cupped hands, lapping like dogs. All the rest got down on their knees to drink.

7 The Lord said to Gideon, “With the three hundred men that lapped I will save you and give the Midianites into your hands. Let all the others go home.” 8 So Gideon sent the rest of the Israelites home but kept the three hundred, who took over the provisions and trumpets of the others.

A note on the use of Gematria: words in Hebrew are connected to other words and letters through the Numbers as intricately as two porcupines who are having sex. I have found clustering the words together ekes out the best meaning for a Torah study. Splicing out individual terms is interesting but it is also a distraction from the overall meaning of the phrase.

ie, "three hundred men" will turn out to be different than "three hundred men drank" vs. "three hundred men ate" so it is best to use all the words in a verse at once and analyze their fully conjugated meanings.

This section of chapter 7 starts with "early in the morning" indicating we are to follow a course of Seven Days in order to get the meaning of the section overall:

v. 1. Early in the morning, Jerub-Baal (that is, Gideon) and all his men camped at the spring of Harod. The camp of Midian was north of them in the valley near the hill of Moreh. 

Jerub-Baal= "Walking in Baal's socks" = Baal's husband.

Gideon= the Hewer.

The verb גדע (gada'), meaning to hew down or cut off, usually shows up when conflicting convictions slug it out, and one party destroys the regalia of the other (Ezekiel 6:6). Or when a person, or a body gets expelled from the mother group (Judges 21:6) or gets cut down a size (Isaiah 10:33).

Midian= strife

Meaning Strife, Place Of Judgment Etymology. From the noun מדון (madon), strife, which derives from the verb דין (din), to judge or govern.

Moreh=

Meaning Early Rain, Teacher Etymology. From the verb ירה (yara), to cast or shoot.

=Early In the morning the teacher rains on those who need to learn better judgement.

The Value in Gematria is 6985, ו‎טחה, "find the range and hit."

v. 2: You have too many men. Israel would brag.

The Value in Gematria is 9268, טב‎ו‎ח‎ "it would be a massacre."

To brag is to attempt to overshadow one's faults. As was stated above a Jew never brags, he is just awfully good at what he does and it shows. Show, do not tell.

Massacres, overwhelming the odds another person or group might feel loved and if they belong is likened by the Rab to terrorism. There is a Jewish way to be proud that does not make others feel shame. As soon as we know what it is we will say. But for now, no se.

v. 3: Those who tremble with fear may leave. To experience fear is to undress one's perceptions and get to know their underlying cause.

= Experienced Jews need to identify with the lingering utter total terror they felt their first day in the synagogue and understand why other people want to pee in a cup during theirs. Failing to make someone feel welcome is as bad as attempting to scare them away.

The Value in Gematria is 12375, אבגזה, "or I will be racist."

v. 4: The Lord said to Gideon: The Value in Gematria is 11269, אאבו‎ט‎, "abbott" "the patriachs."

Certain men are chosen by God before birth to be Jewish, others are not. The secret is in the ability to drink the water, and to do it properly.

v. 5: So Gideon took the men down to the water. The Value in Gematria is 11294, "holiness."

= One has to be as a separate entity in order to survive. God sent every patriarch of Israel out to seek his fortunes on his own, all but Moses met with success because Moses cannot be completely known.

To understand this we need to define Day 5. From Bereshit:

And God said, “Let the water teem with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the vault of the sky.” 21 So God created the great creatures of the sea and every living thing with which the water teems and that moves about in it, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. 22 God blessed them and said, “Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the water in the seas, and let the birds increase on the earth.” 23 And there was evening, and there was morning—the fifth day.

= "Make a Tabernacle and inside each of you, I will dwell."

v. 6. Three hundred of them drank from cupped hands, lapping like dogs. All the rest got down on their knees to drink. The Value in Gematria is 4221, Baba, "come, young shoot to daddy."

= Day Six.

24 And God said, “Let the land produce living creatures according to their kinds: the livestock, the creatures that move along the ground, and the wild animals, each according to its kind.” And it was so. 25 God made the wild animals according to their kinds, the livestock according to their kinds, and all the creatures that move along the ground according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good. 26 Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals,[a] and over all the creatures that move along the ground.” 27 So God created mankind in his own image,     in the image of God he created them;     male and female he created them. 28 God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.” 29 Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. 30 And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.” And it was so. 31 God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day.

v. 7: Gideon kept the three hundred= Day 7, Shabbat!

The Value in Gematria is 9702, טזאֶפֶסב‎‎, tzapesb, "makes the good times come back."

[adventures-of-the-creeping-bam]

NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM,  BOOK FOUR: THE HUNT - CHAPTER 7

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Boof 4 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT:  Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER SEVEN:  KESLA

“Oh my … what the fuck … Kesla, what the FUCK?!!!  What did you just do?”  Shay rounds on me now, looking ready to reach out and start shaking me, while Tulen’s clearly too stunned to even try and speak now.  I just look down, turning Hefdred over in my hand now as I inspect the condition of the now conspicuously cold and inert blade.

“He’s fine.”  It’s a strange thing, I would’ve expected carving all those things apart would’ve put a whole lot of nasty unpleasant shit all over my blade, not just dead blood but … gods, I don’t really wanna think about what they were actually made of.  But the steel is surprisingly clean, making me suspect the heat of Corvina’s fire blazing through the blade must’ve been enough to just burn most of it off.  So I simply turn the sword around, find the throat of the scabbard, and slide it home again into its sheath.  “Look for yourself.”

While Tulen’s just rooted to the spot, clearly still too alarmed to do anything, Shay gives me a really sharp look before stepping to the window to frown out into the night … then lets a long, relieved breath loose as her shoulders fall immediately as she starts to relax.  “Oh.  Okay, I just …”  Her frown still deepens as she turns back to me.  “That was a bit much, though.  Don’t you think?”

“Maybe.”  I know exactly what she’s just seen, of course – Driver 8’s right outside, stood just a little way below the window, likely straightening up again after having lowered a very startled dwarf to the ground after catching him.  Probably with the creature Shay booted through the glass still thoroughly crushed under one foot.  Now he’ll be waiting for the rest of us, patient and implacable as ever.

“You mean … is he not … what happened?”  Tulen blinks now as she takes a very tentative step that way too, clearly a good deal more reluctant in the face of her shock.  “Is he okay?”

Stooping to drag Dumoli’s warhammer up from the floor, I have to brace both mylegs firmly to work up the strength to heft it up in one hand now.  “Oof … he’s fine.  All things considered, anyway.”  Frowning down at it for a beat, I realise there ain’t nothing else I can really do with it, so I just pitch it through the hole too.  Then I look back down the corridor again.

Gods, there’s more of ‘em, it makes we wonder how the hell they could’ve got so much meat and bone and metal together so quick.  Or maybe it’s all the dead in this place, now.  I shudder a little at that thought.  “Yeah, you gotta go.”

“What?”  Tulen don’t seem anything like so shaken now as she starts to protest, instead looking at me like I’m daft.  “But what about –”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Tu.”  I reach back over my shoulder now, working on shrugging the corresponding axe free from its harness, but it takes more’n one try to work it loose.  “There’s no time.”

“No, I can still fight –”  She’s fishing through her components bag again, frowning deeper now.

“Shay, do me a favour, will you?”

For a moment the half-orc just frowns at me, like she won’t actually do what I ask after all, then she lets a short, bitter hiss of a sigh out and turns quick to smash her elbow into glass still left beside her, repeating the process a few times to knock the hole through a bit wider.  Then she turns back and grabs hold of Tulen from behind by both arms and immediately starting to steer her forcefully towards the window.

“What?  Wait!  No … no, no no wait!  Hold on, I can still help!”

I’m already stepping toward the quickly advancing wave of horrors, giving my axe a little flourish as I prepare myself to give my friends cover, so I guess I must miss when she starts rubbing her palms desperately together.  Not so much the scratchy little catching sound that I’ve learned to recognise from my time spent with Gael, though, accompanied by a little bloom of heat at my back that goes with it enough to give me warning enough as Shay shouts:  “What are you … oh shit!  Kesla, duck!”

Yeah, I’m already with her, so I duck aside fast as Tulen must throw the freshly lit flame-blast while Shay’s still trying to move her towards the window.  Meaning her aim’s more’n a little off, so I just chuck myself into the wall and crouch low, hoping for the best as I feel the terrifying arc of angry hot flames sail through the air directly over my head.  Fuck … that was a little too close …

It flies further than I’d have expected, but I was still right, the angle’s definitely a little off, so when the stray wave hits it first bounces off the wall before tumbling down into the midst of the incoming wave.  It misses at least four as they manage to dodge, which in itself surprises me some, really.  The ones behind go up in a great screaming mess as the flames flare, the fire spreading quickly as the whole corridor starts to burn, and one of the ones that she initially missed is caught in the resulting conflagration too.   But there are still three on this side of the impact itself, and the catching heat at their backs lends them extra speed.

“Shit …”  I growl it under my breath as I turn just enough to look over my shoulder.  “You gotta go!  NOW!!!”

“But what about –”  Tulen tries to protest as Shay gives up trying to steer her and instead wraps both arms round her from behind and just picks her up.  The fact they’re both about the same height makes it look a little hilarious, more so that they must be about as strong as each other, but the dragonhalf wizard just lets her.  Or maybe she just realises too late what’s happening as Shay twists round and pitches her through the enlarged hole, taking her enough by surprise the next thing out her mouth is a wordless cry of profound shock.  Then the half-orc looks back at me.

“Come on then.”

“Just go.  I’m right behind you.”

She frowns at that, but I don’t wait to see if she listens or not, instead just running forward now as I lose what little gap there is left between us and the threat.  Which turns out to be less than a handful of long, sprinting steps, actually …

As the first one comes at me, already throwing one of its flailing tendrils towards me as I approach, I don’t even bother ducking aside, instead just dropping into a foot-first slide to its side, and as it hits empty air I’m already reacting to it.  My shield batters it aside while I bring my axe round to dig it deep into the main mass, and I let my momentum tear rather than chop so in the end it opens up a deep gouge in it as I skid underneath its defences.  Once I’m past I kick off from the wall with one foot and, as I slew round on my armoured back I lash out with the other foot, aiming for the next one in line.

My sabaton makes contact with what feels more like a solid chunk of wood than the butchered side of ribs I was expecting, and it almost hurts me, but I power through enough that it unbalances it instead.  So I manage to tip it into a clumsy somersaulting flip that just sends it careening into its predecessor, and as they go down in a mutual tangle that just leaves me one immediate threat to take care off.

Except now I’m down on my back …shit, I didn’t actually think this out half so well as it seemed on the way in.  It’s well aware that I’m here, and as it rounds on me now I realise I have, at best, one solid second of peace to get up and respond before I’m overwhelmed.  So I try the only real option open to me in the time I got, I kick my legs up in front of me as I shove off from my back in the same motion, intending to snap my feet down under myself as I flip over.  A move I have, at best, only managed to effectively pull off maybe three times out of ten in the past.  The rest of the time it just brough me crashing right back down on my back and knocked the wind right outta me in the process …

So it’s enough of a surprise when I actually manage to find my feet this time that I almost freeze on the spot, which would lead me to either overbalance again and drop backwards after all, or just leave me open for the attack after all.  The sudden, unpleasantly bitter but nonetheless vitalising surge of adrenaline that shoots through me is the only reason I respond in time after all, turning my shield to block the attacking whip of twisted flesh as it shoots at my face.  I follow through fast, turning the force of the hit that makes me take into momentum as I hack deep into the middle of the main trunk of this makeshift creature, and I tear again, twisting it aside in a roughly diagonal line to rip it wide open.  Then I push back, finding the wall at my back and using it to boost off of as I shove myself sideways, narrowly avoiding getting cut down as it responds with another wild haymaker that I hear shattering wood and plaster where I was a blink before.

As I round on it I feel the blooming flare of heat behind me and it’s enough to tell me the fire’s almost on top of us.  My time here’s numbered in minutes, or likely significantly less.

Charging again, I hold my breath until the last possible moment before letting my snarling growl go, not wanting to let it know I’m coming again while it’s still turning towards me, but it surprises me this time, twisting aside in such a way I only manage to land a glancing blow.  The manner of its motion reminds me much too late that this thing ain’t actually built like a conventional living thing, built without an actual front, back or sides, any more’n it has a conventional head.  So as I chop into it the whole mass of it twists hard, and this time my blade’s caught a little too fast, so it drags me hard along with it as I stubbornly refuse to let go of my weapon.  For a beat I’m unbalanced, just towed along after it, but I adapt quick, giving the butt of the handle a hefty tap with the rim of my shield at the same time that I give the shaft and sharp twist, and it shucks free with a wet pop while I’m set free.

Recovering quick, I swing with a good deal more force on the backswing and bite deep enough for the hard, heavy swing to tear right through that first blow I landed on the other side, and while it don’t quite carve it in two, it’s enough to leave it suddenly lolling wide open.  It drops fast, losing most of its structural integrity all at once, and I’m already stepping back fast as the quivering mess splatters down at my feet and writhes.  I ignore it for now, instead jumping over it to take on the other two as the closer one seems to be recovering now, clearly ready to come for me again.

Then the one right behind it’s suddenly jerked hard to the side and it almost distracts me.  ‘Least until I realise it’s cuz Shay’s just cut it down with her sword, slicing clean through while it was still righting itself, and part o’ me wants to admonish her for not listening to me, but instead I got more pressing concerns.

I hear the torn but still sort-of alive creature behind me start to scream the same time I feel another bloom in the heat at my back, and it’s enough to warn me that the fire’s spreading fast now.  In the same moment my current opponent twists at my side as if trying a feint, but I react to it after all, and when it attacks after all from that angle I’m already swinging my axe to deflect the blow.  I don’t cut through this tendril, though, instead my blade prangs hard on a piece of shredded steel it clearly intended to carve into me with, and instead I just slap it away.  Shit … damn it, I really am missing Krakka’s god magic right now, that was so handy before …

Not wanting to give it a chance to recover, I instead batter it with my shield and put both feet into the shove, charging hard while the construct folds around it and driving it into the nearer wall.  I put a little extra spur into the last step, really crushing it into the plaster, and there’s a substantial cracking sound as it buckles some from the force, not quite trapping the creature but at least pinning it enough to slow it down.  I back off fast and round on Shay as she cuts two more swift slices through her target, and her eyes are wild enough I’m not sure she actually sees me for right away.

“Oh!”  She blinks, focusing on me now, at least, and her frown deepens.  “Yeah, look, I am an not going to apologise for –”

“No time!”  I don’t give her a chance to react as I just tighten my grip on my axe and charge right at her, and as I open my arms while jumping over the still squirming dismembered pieces settling at her feet her eyes widen as she barely catches what I’m about to do.  Certainly she has no time to actually do anything …

When I slam into her I keep moving forward, wrapping my shield-arm around as I charge straight for the window, and as I throw us both forward I hear her bite down on a protest and just take a deep, rattled breath instead.  Then she wraps her free arm round my torso in return and we hit the glass and it gives instantly in a loud, glittering explosion and we’re in the air with all the worryingly sharp pieces raining down round us.  I don’t even know if Big Man’s had a chance to move, I barely even knew I was gonna do this until I actually did, for all I know we’re about to get really badly hurt … or worse.  I may have just killed my friend.

Then we both slam into something painfully solid after all and while my shield bears the brunt of the hit Shay still gasps as all the air’s knocked right out of her, and I feel the great crushing hit of the impact not even a beat after.  It crushes my chest hard, driving the wind straight out of my lungs too, and my head snaps forward with such sudden force it’s a miracle I don’t butt Shay right in the face.  Instead my chin hits her armoured shoulder with significant force and I feel the crack as a bright white light goes off in my head, and I’m just gone for … well I don’t know how long, really.

The next thing I’m aware of is the painful aching in my chin and much of my jaw, while my head’s swimming and my thoughts are scary slow, my head stuffed with cotton wool despite the throb.  I can sort of feel myself getting shifted about, but my limbs themselves won’t respond any as I try to react in kind, more’n a little alarmed now even in my deeply rattled state.  I try to speak but all I manage is a low, toneless grunt, and I don’t really hear it anyway, mostly just picking up on a vague buzzing vibration in my skull.  Fuck, I am a mess.

Finally I seem to settle and the movements stop, and I try opening my eyes now, very slow realising I ain’t done it already.  The light’s low enough I don’t get blinded at least, but it’s so fuzzy … yeah, I can’t see much of anything, just a big blur.  There are vague colours shifting in front of my eyes, but I can’t make anything out, and the sounds are as muffled and indistinct as my own voice was before.  “What’s … hey, I’m here, what’s going on?”  I try to say that, but I doubt it actually comes out of my mouth.

Something very blurry shifts into my vision and I try squinting a little, and there’s maybe some vague recognition in my head now seeing ‘em, whoever it is … then they shift again as another, less familiar shape ducks in close and I only very vaguely feel contact on either side of my face, a gentle probing, maybe fingers.  And a low, barely perceptible note to the sounds now, a repetitive thrumming, something I suspect might not strictly be sound anyway …

My head starts to clear slowly, until it’s not, my vision clearing and the fuzz shifting, and then, suddenly, it’s like my brain just pops and everything comes rushing back at once.  It’s Shul knelt over me, her face close and earnest, clearly worried eyes locked on me as she checks me over, while I realise the other is one of the clerics from the temple, still muttering quiet prayers under his breath.  I start working my jaw, I can’t help it, there’s still pressure in my head like my ears are full of water, but it fades by increments.  And now I can see others around me, similarly crouched and kneeling over me.

“Fucking hell … Kesla, what were you thinking?”  Shul finally mutters as the healer, a middle-aged halfling, it looks like, lets go of my face.  I can sort of feel now, as much as my vision and hearing have come back, at least, and I seem to be lying on the ground, outside the house.  I can see brightening firelight close by on the left, the pluming smoke largely indistinguishable from the night’s sky even as it blots out many of the stars.

“Thorin … I just wanted to get us both outta there …”  I wheeze, growing uncomfortably aware that my jaw’s still throbbing substantially, despite my head starting to clear.  I can move, too, but I still feel all kinds of wobbly, my limbs extremely watery right now.

Tulen hovers into view above me, her eyes very wide and a look equal parts shock and sheepishness writ large across her face as she takes a beat to shift her robes a little before dropping into a crouch.  Dumoli’s on one knee on my other side, Zuldrad too, while Lady Naru’s stood close by, leaning into her staff, mostly just looking relieved as she looks down at me.

“Oh …”  I grunt with real discomfort as I start to push myself up into a seated position, finding my arms ain’t much good for this but struggling through all the same.  “Wait … Shay!  Shit … is she –”

“I am spectacularly pissed off at you right now.”

Big Man takes a few very tentative steps closer on my right now, and when I look up it don’t take me long to work out why he’s moving so gingerly.  He’s got Deriel’s shrouded body clutched over one shoulder, while Shay’s cradled in his other arm, propped up into a languid reclining position with her head against his shoulder, and she’s glaring daggers at me right now.  “My back is killing me.”

“My most heartfelt apologies.”  the golem rumbles, and while it’s just the same monotone, something about his posture alone is enough to lend it an air of profound regret.  “I was able to catch you both well before you hit the ground, but … I am afraid I am not built for soft landings.”

“Ah … shit.”  I wince, as much in rueful sympathy as due to my own discomfort.  “Reckon you got a point.  You’re all … hard and stuff.”

“You didn’t help matters though, did you?”  Shay growls, and I realise now that, while she’s found her own voice, there’s a bit of a slur to her words now, and the way her arms are just dangling slack and her head’s lolling makes it clear she’s pretty out of it too.  Crap …

“Yeah, okay, I am sorry.”  I sit forward and reach up the best I can, but it still takes me some real effort to manage to find my face with my hands to check it over.  Oof … fuck, my jaw is killing me, maybe much as Shay’s back.  I’m a little amazed I can even speak right now, never mind how fuzzy my own words sound in my head.  As it is, I’m more’n a little surprised when I realise I still got my fully-extended shield strapped to my arm.  “Shit … can somebody gimme a hand up?”

Driver 8 does actually start to move, which takes me a little by surprise, but then there’s an immediate hesitation which makes me think he’s feeling a bit sheepish about Shay already being in his care.  Besides, Shul’s already on her feet now, leaning forward to offer up her hand, and I gratefully offer my right hand up to her so she can pulling me up as I work on trying to get my legs to start responding too.  “What are … oh, hell … I’m sorry, Shul.  I just wasn’t expecting to see you and … um …”

“Fenn.”  she breathes as she takes hold of my wrist with her other hand and starts to put her back into it.  She really is much stronger than she looks like she should be, but then she is a half-hob.  “Lady Naru ported back to collect us both when she saw the state you were in after Driver 8 caught you.”

“Someone’s coming!”  I’m a little surprised to hear Yeslee’s voice right now, especially quite close by behind the group, and it’s almost enough to make my very rubbery legs give out under me as Shul finally has me on my feet.  Thankfully she’s got a good enough hold o’ me by now she just squeezes a little tighter on my arm, and by then Tulen’s got herself into order too, ducking in to take over.  It’s a good thing too, she’s closer to my own height so when she drags my arm round her shoulders to hold me up, her other quickly snaking round my back to get a good tight grip on my waist, I can just settle against her without having to worry I might overwhelm us both.

The Fir Bolg ranger comes jogging out of the relative gloom with her bow in hand, clutching an arrow along with it like she’s really to nock already.  Her face is still typically calm, but there’s enough of an edge in her all the same for me to still pick up on.  Brung scurries up behind her, moving on all fours until he gets close before finally reverting to just two feet again as he slows to a walk.  He looks about as indifferent as he always does.

“Looks official, too.”  she adds as she arrives, frowning a little deeper as she takes in my rumpled, unsteady condition, and Shay sprawled out in Driver 8’s massive arms.  “There’s townsguard, but they have Tektehran troopers with them.  Might be time to make ourselves scarce.”

“No shit.”  I frown now myself, turning back to look the others over.  “Anybody seen my axe?”

“Here.”  Dumoli plods forward and holds it out now, his tired smile letting me know he don’t seem to be holding any particular grudge about me throwing him out the window.

Taking hold of it, I turn back to Yeslee.  “How close are they?”

“Making their way up the drive.  They’re being cautious about it, I’d imagine because of the bodies.  But they’ll be here soon enough.  A few minutes, perhaps?”

“Great.”  Letting out a very tired sigh that I don’t even try to stifle, I look to Lady Naru, then Tulen.  “I know it’s asking a lot, but … given there ain’t time for a teleportation circle …”

The young wizard blinks in surprise.  “You don’t mean –”

“She does.”  Lady Naru sighs, and it sounds almost heavy as mine.  “Porting everyone at once, especially with Driver 8 … that’s going to be a lot.  Between us I don’t see any reason why not, but …”  Another sigh.

“I’m sorry.”  I hate doing this, but I got no choice.  Nothing good can come from us getting found here right now, not by the townsguard, and definitely not the Terrors.  ‘Specially not when I’m dressed up like I am.  They’re liable to kill me soon as they see me.  We don’t have Madame Daste to pull us outta the shit now.  Which might’ve been Vandryss’ point all along.  “I really wouldn’t ask if there was any other choice.”

“No, you’re right.”  Tulen reaches up now and brushes her free hand back through her hair, looking pretty fretful now as she steps forward, then offers it up to Yeslee while adjusting her hold on me.  “We have to.  Best just to do it now, before I chicken out, maybe?”

Frowning deeper now, Yeslee considers her hand for a moment, then slings her bow and takes hold of it.  The others move forward quickly, the group clustering around us, with Lady Naru finally taking hold of Big Man’s elbow before turning to Tulen.  The two mages seem to consider for a long beat, the younger licking her lips as her nerves clearly betray her some, then the elder nods and they both speak the spell into being pretty much as one.

Honestly, I barely have a chance to close my eyes in time, and I forget to hold my breath, but honestly I’m not sure it actually would’ve made a huge amount of difference overall.  The transition is a lot rougher than usual, I notice, not so much an internal tugging sensation this time as something close to tearing, it genuinely feels like I might be getting ripped open, not painful but forceful and distressing all the same.  And when we drop this time it’s like we’re falling from a great height first, even though we touch down pretty much instantly.  My legs fold up straight away, but even so I didn’t really expect to drop anyway.  Not like we do.

Tulen’s collapsing along with me, I realise as I open my eyes, and as we drop I see her eyes are rolling over white while there’s blood already starting to run from her nostrils.  My legs don’t hold me up at all, we both drop like a couple o’ stones.  From the sound of it we ain’t the only ones, particularly as the whole chamber round us shakes to indicate that the golem has toppled too.

At least we’re in the lobby of the Temple, like we planned on.  I roll over the second we’re down and reach over the best I can, ignoring the blooming pain in my back and wrenched left shoulder now as I try to pull Tulen towards me.  Her head lolls as I paw at her with worryingly numb, limp hands, and I genuinely can’t tell if she’s actually breathing now.  But worst is … fuck me, that’s an awful lot of blood coming out her nose.

So I just start yelling at the top o’ my lungs.  “HELP!!!  ANYBODY THERE?!!!  WE NEED HELP!!!  RIGHT NOW!!!”

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #The Creeping Bam #the adventures of the creeping bam #book 4 chapter 7 #original fiction #fantasy fiction #original fantasy fiction

[torahtantra]

Parsha 12. Vayechi. AKA "The Successor", Conclusion to the Book of Genesis.

Va= I appeared

Vay= hook or stake, to secure

Ech= the one

Echi= My Brother, Benjamen, Son of the Right.

Va= I appeared

Vay= hook or stake, to secure

Ech= the one

Echi= My Brother, Benjamen, Son of the Right.

From the Book of Genesis, Chapter 47-48:

28 Jacob lived in Egypt seventeen years, and the years of his life were a hundred and forty-seven. 29 When the time drew near for Israel to die, he called for his son Joseph and said to him, “If I have found favor in your eyes, put your hand under my thigh and promise that you will show me kindness and faithfulness. Do not bury me in Egypt, 30 but when I rest with my fathers, carry me out of Egypt and bury me where they are buried.”

“I will do as you say,” he said.

31 “Swear to me,” he said. Then Joseph swore to him, and Israel worshiped as he leaned on the top of his staff.[d]

-> The Staff is the penis. It turns water into blood. It is also the bringer of death, as in the Third Plague, which coincides with the Third Commandment:

"Thou shalt not misuse the name of the Lord." The name of God was being misplaced in Egypt. It was being used by a man called the Pharaoh. Only God can turn water into life. Aaron's demonstration of the power of God's Staff illustrated something Pharaoh, a petty instrument could not do.

-> Jacob was 17 when he left Egypt, the Land of Distress and became Israel...and overcame.

When it came time for Israel, a stage of life laden with contemplation and stress associated with youngmanhood, to pass on and give way to Dominion, he warns, "Do not bury the annals of my struggle in the Land of Darkness."

Under the thigh means, something else...you see, there's this thing there....you take a hold of it, not necessarily on someone 147 years old...but you take the bringer of life in hand, and eggschtracht all that knowledge, experience, humor, all the climactic moments and...

Manasseh and Ephraim "Forget and Forge Ahead."

48 Some time later Joseph was told, “Your father is ill.” So he took his two sons Manasseh and Ephraim along with him. 2 When Jacob was told, “Your son Joseph has come to you,” Israel rallied his strength and sat up on the bed.

-> When the promise of the future is beheld, the Feeble Follower Overcomes.

3 Jacob said to Joseph, “God Almighty[a] appeared to me at Luz (the light) in the land of Canaan (that which humbles) , and there he blessed me 4 and said to me, ‘I am going to make you fruitful and increase your numbers. I will make you a community of peoples, and I will give this land as an everlasting possession to your descendants after you.’

5 “Now then, your two sons born to you in Egypt before I came to you here will be reckoned as mine; Ephraim (to be fruitful) and Manasseh (to reform) will be mine, just as Reuben (behold, a son!)  and Simeon (to be heard) are mine. 6 Any children born to you after them will be yours; in the territory they inherit they will be reckoned under the names of their brothers. 

7 As I was returning from Paddan, (the field) [b] to my sorrow Rachel (the ewe) died in the land of Canaan while we were still on the way, a little distance from Ephrath (also means fruitful). So I buried her there beside the road to Ephrath” (that is, Bethlehem).

8 When Israel saw the sons of Joseph, he asked, “Who are these?”

9 “They are the sons God has given me here,” Joseph said to his father.

Then Israel said, “Bring them to me so I may bless them.”

= "God Almighty is found in the Light of Awakening, where Israeli Royals are made. Be humble before him and he will make of them a community of people and provide life everlasting to the land.

The past and the future belong to me as do the forthcoming. Butc listen to to Me and they will be yours too. I will give birth to them continuously via the same Field of those who followed the road of prosperity which leads to the House of Civilization.

10 Now Israel’s eyes were failing because of old age, and he could hardly see. So Joseph brought his sons close to him, and his father kissed them and embraced them.

11 Israel said to Joseph, “I never expected to see your face again, and now God has allowed me to see your children too.”

-> This is pessimistic. The Torah was written at time(s) when civilization seemed to be cresting and it is obvious Moses and Maimonedes were clenching their sacks over how long it would last.

12 Then Joseph removed them from Israel’s knees and bowed down with his face to the ground. 13 And Joseph took both of them, Ephraim on his right toward Israel’s left hand and Manasseh on his left toward Israel’s right hand, and brought them close to him. 

14 But Israel reached out his right hand and put it on Ephraim’s head, though he was the younger, and crossing his arms, he put his left hand on Manasseh’s head, even though Manasseh [the past] was the firstborn.

-> Prosperity comes from a connection between the earth and its fruits and the People. The rueful past must be left behind, the future continually invested in.

15 Then he blessed Joseph and said,

“May the God before whom my fathers     Abraham and Isaac walked faithfully, the God who has been my shepherd     all my life to this day, 16 the Angel who has delivered me from all harm     —may he bless these boys. May they be called by my name     and the names of my fathers Abraham and Isaac, and may they increase greatly     on the earth.”

17 When Joseph saw his father placing his right hand on Ephraim’s head he was displeased; so he took hold of his father’s hand to move it from Ephraim’s head to Manasseh’s head. 18 Joseph said to him, “No, my father, this one is the firstborn; put your right hand on his head.”

19 But his father refused and said, “I know, my son, I know. He too will become a people, and he too will become great. Nevertheless, his younger brother will be greater than he, and his descendants will become a group of nations.” 20 He blessed them that day and said,

“In your[c] name will Israel pronounce this blessing:     ‘May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh.’”

So he put Ephraim ahead of Manasseh.

21 Then Israel said to Joseph, “I am about to die, but God will be with you[d] and take you[e] back to the land of your[f] fathers. 22 And to you I give one more ridge of land[g] than to your brothers, the ridge I took from the Amorites with my sword and my bow.”

The Amorites are the best of the best Hezron Hamul [darts of joy that are merciful]that huff and ruff it up the mountain to the highest ground in the Land of Canaan, to Paddan-aram, the Ultimate Substitute.

Thus the Book of Genesis and a Golden Age end. It lasts a little while longer but not before envy from afar causes its demise.

From Exodus 1:

6 Now Joseph and all his brothers and all that generation died, 7 but the Israelites were exceedingly fruitful; they multiplied greatly, increased in numbers and became so numerous that the land was filled with them.

8 Then a new king, to whom Joseph meant nothing, came to power in Egypt. 9 “Look,” he said to his people, “the Israelites have become far too numerous for us. 10 Come, we must deal shrewdly with them or they will become even more numerous and, if war breaks out, will join our enemies, fight against us and leave the country.”

This is something we have seen before. We rescued ourselves from WWI and WW2, historians and statesmen have studied their abominable phenomena over and over, all the causes and all the effects and here we go again.

Salvation really doesn't matter to us does it? We say it does, but we do the most damnable things in its wake, don't we?

I believe we are exiting a kind of tin age, one President Obama did his best to polish up and sell to a weakly enthused world.

All the gold it could have purchased ended the day the the Mormons cheated in the 2016 Election and Donald Trump and his regime took over, ruined the modern ecological and political landscape. Joe Biden is bandaging it like one wraps a mummy, one roll of gauze at a time. Meanwhile civilization tumbles.

Something new has to happen. Something new and improved must always happen.

Here ends Parsha 12, Vayechi, "the Successor," and the Book of Genesis, contained in the Holy Torah, which explains Right to Left, how things are supposed to work.

שי אלף בא

[spxllcxstxr]

Yellow Sticky Notes • R.L

(Gif not mine)

Request: maybe an imagine where the reader is dating remus and puts sweet love notes into his books to constantly remind him how loved he is 🥺 — anon

Summary: Remus finds your lovely paper trail in his books while in the hospital wing

Warnings: mention of food, mentions of injuries, mention of full moon, Remus being a bit insecure, fluff

Word Count: ~1k

A.N: Do me a favor? Disregard the fact that Post It Notes were invented in 1980. Let’s just push that date back a tad...I honestly don’t know how I feel about this one? I love Remus so much so maybe that’s why I can’t seem to love the things I write about him because I feel I don’t do him justice. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

****

Remus sits alone in the hospital wing, all his friends stuck in class, while he’s forced to suffer in the all too familiar scratchy bed.

The full moon the night before gave him deep purple bruises all along his abdomen, a foot facing the entirely wrong way, and a brand new inflamed scar running from the bottom of his left earlobe all the way to the corner of his left eye.

When Madam Pomfrey reluctantly held up a mirror in front of him earlier in the morning, he almost snatched it out of her hands in a fit of rage and threw it across the room. He would’ve, if he wasn’t too weak to even lift up a finger.

But that was before James made his way down with a plate of breakfast, Sirius with an armful of jumpers, and Peter with a fluffy pillow from Remus’ very own bed.

You had come running down with his school bag filled to the brim with his favorite Muggle novels.

Just seeing them gave him the strength he needed to get through the rest of the day.

The four of them stayed as long as possible, but Slughorn made it very clear the last time they were late to class that detentions would be the least of your problems. He was threatening to write home, and no one wanted that.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before dashing out, his eyes trailing after your retreating form.

He sighs before picking up the novel closest to him on the nightstand. It’s one he’s almost done with, only a chapter or two left.

Remus opens to the dog-eared page, but notices something different about the paper.

Smack dab in the center of the page sits a pale yellow square, your elegant scrawl resting on top of it. Bringing the book closer to his face, he reads out your note.

Dear Remus,

Over the summer, Lily sent me a pack of these Muggle things called sticky notes. I think they’re absolutely fascinating, don’t you? There’s this sticky stuff on the back and that’s what makes it stick onto stuff. Sometimes I think these Muggles are geniuses! There’s one hundred in a pack and I’ve decided to use them all. Let’s see if you can find the other ninety-nine.

Love forever,

(Y/n)

Narrowing his eyes, he turns his head to look at the other books you brought down for him.

Slowly, he closes the book in his hands and grabs another one from his bag.

Sure enough, on the first page, there’s another pale yellow sticky note with your handwriting.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#46. You’re extremely kind and willing to help everyone. From helping first years with Herbology homework to quizzing me on History of Magic revolts because Merlin there are too many, you’re always happy to help. I don’t know how much you hear it, so thank you.

His thumb traces over the dried ink, soaking in the words. His heart swells as he bites his lip.

He repeats the process with another book.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#96. You never complain when I fall asleep after begging you to read to me in bed.

Remus snorts, remembering all the times you’ve begged him to read to you while cuddled up underneath a mountain of blankets and then hearing your light snores in the middle of the chapter. You liked to tell him it was because his voice was so calming, but he never really believed it until now.

There were four more books in his bag and he lifts the rest of them onto his bed as fast as possible. His body groans in pain, but that doesn’t matter to him.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#29. You are so strong. So much stronger than you believe. And your strength gives me hope every single day.

A blush runs up his neck, painting his face pink. Maybe because his emotions are running rampant, but he feels tears welling up in his eyes.

He swallows roughly, picking up the next book, it’s spine cracked from use.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#7. Your smile. The way it lights up the room. I know you don’t like it so much because your canines are tinted a bit yellow and your front tooth is crooked, but honestly, love, it’s beautiful. Every time it makes its way across your face I forget how to breathe and my heart skips a few beats.

Instinctively, said smiles grows wide. He must look crazy, sitting all alone, smiling maniacally at some novel but he couldn’t care less.

Excitedly, he grabs another.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#15. How on my bad days you’ll curl up in bed next to me and just hold me close to your chest. You’ll let me cry and make a snotty mess on your jumper. I swear I’m an ugly crier and yet you still look at me like I’m the most stunning person in the castle.

This note has a little heart scribbled in the corner, something he finds extremely cute.

He quickly flips open the cover of the last novel.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#78. Would it be shallow of me to say that you’re extremely attractive? Because Godric, Rem, you are so fucking amazing to look at. Like a work of art. And I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about your scars. Well guess what Lupin, those are beautiful too. It’s my mission to kiss every single one of those scars and I’m no quitter.

He brings his hand up to trace over the new scar, wincing. Before, he was feeling insecure about another white monstrosity ripping through his skin, but knowing that soon enough your soft lips were going to trace over said line, he felt a little bit better about it.

Though his smile has turned into a goofy grin, he’s saddened by the fact he has no more notes to look at. It’s probably for the best, so he can save them for another time.

You don’t get around to visiting your boyfriend in the hospital wing until after classes.

James and Sirius had Quidditch practice, so they dragged Peter with them so you could have some alone time with Remus.

You open the large oak doors quietly, hoping not to disturb him.

You push your way through the white curtains surrounding his bed, greeted by the sight of him surrounded by the books you brought down for him.

“How was class, love?” Remus asks, patting the spot next to him.

You take your seat, pressing your shoulder to his own.

“Quite boring, honestly—“

You’re cut off by Remus’ chapped lips connecting to your cheek. He repeats his actions, peppering seven kisses all around your face.

“What was that for, Rem?” You ask, your fingertips hovering over the spots he kissed.

“One kiss for every lovely note.” He replies, flashing you that bright smile that just makes your knees weak.

“Well in that case,” You smirk, gazing into his honey brown eyes. “I can’t wait for the other ninety-three.”

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #the marauders x reader

[animepopheart]

Wonder Egg Priority, Episode 7: The Scars to Prove It (or, Love for the Moms, the Cutters, and the Drunks)

Wonder Egg Priority (WEP) has felt like the successor to Puella Magi Madoka Magica in many ways throughout its run, but in episode seven, it almost went full Madomagi by driving the stakes to their utmost height—to the death of one of the main characters. But as has been consistent with WEP, what it did instead, after some moments of true worry, is to instead deliver hope in the face of pain, resolve against overwhelming circumstances, and strength in weakness.

The series returns to Rika Kawai’s story in this episode, which starts with her turning 14. And on her 14th birthday, after leaving her hungover mother halfway asleep at the bar she works at and which they call home, Rika opens up to the rest of the girls, explaining that she doesn’t know her father (it could be any of five possibilities, or even more) and her mom won’t reveal any further information about him. As she trashes her mom, Neiru and Momoe are incredulous, which only drives Rika away from them. And though Ai goes to comfort her, Rika is in a terrible state of mind as she enters her next fight.

This was a difficult episode to watch. They’ve all been somewhat hard since the series never shies away from brutal and violent situations impacting young people, but I found myself squirming especially here as Rika’s cutting takes center stage. At one point, she decides to cut herself and it seems certain she will, before her turtle-like partner, Mannen, prevents it from happening.

Challenging, also, is how strained Rika’s relationship is with her mother, who’s life revolves around drink—alcohol both pays the bills and helps her forget how miserable her existence is. And in the midst of all the bad behavior in this episode—the usual Rika talk, her mom’s alcoholism and neglect, and the selfishness all around, one begins to feel deeply sorrowful for the Kawai women. Yes, Rika is often obnoxious, but her family life is in shambles, and she still exhibits goodness, including a curiously gentle relationship with Mannen. And Rika’s mother is a tragic figure, used by men and quite on the road to an early death, it would seem, unable to lift herself out of the gutter as she tries, in her own sloppy way, to protect and reach out to her daughter.

It’s in this hopelessness that Rika turns again to cutting, and then finds herself tempted by something even more dangerous. Her foe this time is a religious leader who led the egg, a follower who continues to believe in him, to commit suicide as a way of “connecting” with the universe (Heaven’s Gate, anyone?). Rika decries the ghoul as a charlatan, but is confronted with her own weakness when the egg shows her own scarred arm to Rika, revealing that she can tell that the latter cuts just like she did. And then she explains that Rika can be released from this pain.

The scars, evidence of what Rika does to cope with her pain, now become the weakness that they truly are, revealing how hopeless she feels, and how powerless she is against the mechanizations of her family life. And defeated, she’s about to allow herself to be killed when a surprising savior comes along—a turtle. Mannen attacks the spiritual leader, to Rika’s surprise as well, until she remembers that he has imprinted on her. Rika is Mannen’s mom, and as he did when he prevented her from cutting, Mannen is again protecting his mother.

The conclusion that Rika reaches is unusual but inspiring. She understands, in this moment, the need to protect one’s mom, finally admitting to herself in a de facto way that maybe her mother is in need of love, too. It’s funny to consider the need that mothers have for love since culturally and socially, they’re always seen as the providers of it. But of course, they need it in return, especially when they falter. My own mother is sick right now, and I think of the support I need to give her and the lack of that I’ve provided through the years.

Warning: Screenshot involving cutting after the jump.

My mother was a good one, however. Rika’s, on the other hand, has struggled with the charge, which reminds me of a story from one of my favorite books, The Ragamuffin Gospel, about another bad parent—a far worse one, in fact, and a real one. I’ll quote part of the passage from chapter seven:

“‘Our daughter Debbie wanted a pair of earth shoes for her Christmas present. On the afternoon of December 24, my husband drove her downtown, gave her sixty dollars, and told her to buy the best pair of shoes in the store. That is exactly what she did. When she climbed back into the pickup truck her father was driving, she kissed him on the cheek and told him he was the best daddy in the whole world. Max was preening himself like a peacock and decided to celebrate on the way home. He stopped at the Cork ‘n’ Bottle–that’s a tavern a few miles from our house and told Debbie he would be right out. It was a clear and extremely cold day, about twelve degrees above zero, so Max left the motor running and locked both doors from the outside so no one could get in. It was a little after three in the afternoon and…’

Silence.

‘Yes?’

The sound of heavy breathing crossed the recreation room. Her voice grew faint. She was crying. ‘My husband met some old Army buddies in the tavern. Swept up in euphoria over the reunion, he lost track of time, purpose, and everything else. He came out of the Cork ‘n’ Bottle at midnight . He was drunk. The motor had stopped running and the car windows were frozen shut. Debbie was badly frostbitten on both ears and on her fingers. When we got her to the hospital, the doctors had to operate. They amputated the thumb and forefinger on her right hand. She will be deaf for the rest of her life.'”

Max—a real person, mind you—was a successful, well-liked man, but his drinking problem led to an unconscionable decision and profound failure as a parent. And yet, this book is about grace, an idea which to humans feels unjust, but  which has the power to change hearts and tear down walls, sometimes literally.

Could Max be given grace? Could Rika’s mother? If not directly, she’s done her own physical damage to her daughter in the form of those cutting scars (difficult and perhaps triggering images below). As mentioned earlier, the egg that she’s helping knows her pain and insists that letting go of everything, including life itself, is the way to peace. After all, to a young, suffering girl, what else could these scars mean?

But in the midst of giving up, in the moment that she actually capitulates (and this episode takes you 99% to the edge, both in the cutting scene and in the apparent death scene), Rika experiences something powerful. She experiences grace.

Have you ever been challenged to forgive someone when you don’t want to, when you feel completely in the right? Maybe it’s easy for you, but perhaps it isn’t. The girls surrounding Rika experience differing degrees of this with her sometimes maniacal and often hurtful behavior. Ai forgives easily. Momoe gets fired up and then equally seeks to make peace. And Neiru…well, Neiru holds onto “justice” more than love (setting up what I imagine will be the most powerful transformation in the series of all, in true Homura fashion). But in the moment that Rika is about to give her life, the girls yell out their love for her, even Neiru, and then more profoundly, without any hesitation, Mannen puts his own life on the line to stop the death from occurring. Rika has already given up, but this turtle hasn’t—not for his mother, whom he loves very much.

And experiencing that love from a different angle, Rika is changed just a bit. She begins to see her weakness as a “mother,” failing her turtle-child, and thinks of her own mom who is overwhelmed by hurt and a failure as well. And if just a little—for as the final scenes indicate, it is just a little—the path toward forgiveness begins.

But a little bit of grace is like a little bit of a flood—its power overwhelms, and it defeats the enemy, whether that means bitterness, a physical person (or manifestation of one), or the devil himself.

When Rika returns from the event, having killed the cult leader monster, it’s interesting to note that she isn’t a wholly different person. She’s changing little by little. And her scars remain. In fact, as she admits, she probably will cut herself again. But strangely enough, those scars now represent something different. They show someone trying—failing, yes, sometimes considerably and maybe very often—but trying, and only able to try because love was shown her, and through that, she is now able to show love as well.

You may have such scars in your life, physical or emotional, battered by the world and by people. I hope that you can develop relationships that help you heal as well, and that you’ll also remember that there are other scars which are meaningful to you, but which you cannot see on your person, scars that were borne out of a desire to heal you. Christ took the piercings, on his head, hands, feet, and side, so that while your heart and flesh may be cut, your soul need not be. And through his wounds, you may be healed.

The grace offered through Christ is one that, as he explains about everlasting water at the well to the Samaritan, for now and through eternity. The egg seeks peace forever by dying, but Jesus, unlike the cult leader, died for us so that we may not have to. He took the nails, the cross, and the spear so that we don’t have to inflict pain on ourselves and receive the punishment of our actions against him and others. He is our scar.

That’s grace. That’s the power that it has. And it can reach anyone—even a terrible dad, an alcoholic mom, a tempestuous child, and, and most significantly and personally—you.

If you’re suffering and in pain, maybe self-inflicted, we encourage you to explain such to a parent or trusted adult and ask for help. It’s a difficult first step, but one that will help you begin recovering. And we also advise that you turn to Christ for help—in prayer, community, and scripture. He provides people to us that will aid us in our times of need, as well as himself and the Holy Spirit if we are believers.

Additionally, there’s a scene in this episode where triumphant, Rika concludes that cutting is okay. That’s said in the context of her moving forward bit by bit and forgiving herself for her failures, even the upcoming ones. That’s an important lesson, though we must certainly be careful not to let it be a license to continue cutting with impunity.

Wonder Egg Priority can be streamed through Funimation. Read more of our articles by signing up for our weekly newsletter.

#wonder egg priority #rika kawai #wep #pmmm #Christianity #tw cutting #blog

[practicalmagicintuitions]

HC reading

DISCLAIMER: If you will send me an Anon, I will answer the same tone as your ask, opinion is written.

All information and statements made in this reading or any other post of mine are all alleged until proven to be fact and for entertainment purposes & usage only. All information stated is based on my intuition and my tarot cards. Opinion only. The readings have no intention to cause any harm to the individuals, people featured in it.

Cards pulled on 19th September

I barely thought about the question The Moon and the 2 of Pentacles felt out. I was thinking a little because I haven’t thought about that question deeply yet, but I decided to keep that 2 cards as a summary of the reading and go back to it if I don’t understand something and the very end of the reading.

My question was how his next few weeks will look like.

Queen of Cups rx, Death rx,( clarified by the King of Cups and the Devil rx - both fell out so I kept both) 5 of Swords, 3 of Swords rx, 10 of Swords rx, Knight of cups rx

What I see is a lot of balancing, wanting something but resisting the change at the same time. Inner and outer battles.

Death rx could be many things one of it is resisting to change, something couldn’t come to its end. For example, a relationship is over but they cannot move on, stuck in. And I think they cannot really move on because they have some codependency between them (QofCrx). If this card represents a person, they are someone who cannot control their emotions, mood swings, hypersensitive to criticism etc. This also could mean heartbreak. I think the truth is the blend of this. There is this emotional insecurity and neediness that is not let something reach its end. Denying your own feeling to make someone else happy. New energies, new impulses don’t reach him and he is operating on those old ones that should be let go. He is somewhat lying to himself that he can juggle between new and old, that he can grow but can remain the same. On a physical level that could mean depression, sleep deprivation.

However, these two-card is facing each other like in a battle when the oppositions are ready to attack. So I think before he can move on or he can battle for some change he has to face the forces that don’t let him choose or move on (QofCrx. It could be another person or one part of himself) The next card is the 5 of Swords. 5 of S is a change, a battle, a battle coming to an end card and top of that his card suggests very strongly a bulling person or situation. Ungraceful win or mental suffering. With this card is very important that who you identified yourself with on the picture. The bigger figure, who won, who has a smug smile, who probably a bully and won unfairly, or the 2 little figures, who are defeated, humiliated, bullied. 

5ofS is losing the moral compass and integrity and I feel this could be a realization of his that he reached that point. He lost those things, his moral values and wants to break free (Devil rx) but he is stuck. Maybe he has to balance between his own mood swing or someone else’s. 

With those conflicting emotions, thoughts, I feel he is in an early phase of transition. This King (King of Cups) is emotionally responsible and with the Devil rx maybe he wants to break free from some emotional attachments. The King of C is the pleaser, the father figure, the dominant one so maybe somehow his father is playing some role in it.

Death rx is a very interesting card because if we think the upright is about rebirth the reverse should be about being stuck, not remain the same but Mary K Greer is saying this card could mean “emerging from the death” coming out from a stagnant period. (keep this meaning in your mind it will be important at the end!)  And I think the Devil rx is supporting this meaning but those cards as a whole suggest for me such an inner conflict, battling with yourself, what to do, what to decide. As the song says “ Should I stay or should I go”? 

5 of Sw, 3 of Sw rx, 10 of Sw rx, Knight of C rx

In this whole spread, there are cups and swords. Heart vs mind, emotions vs logic and a clear head

Both 3 and 10 of Sw rx means healing, escaping from something fatal (NOT necessarily in a death-life situation!! more like on an emotional, metaphysical level as Death card doesn’t mean physical death ), the swords are falling out. But that doesn’t mean the experiences or the process is not painful. Oh boy… it is, it is painful. but instead of the light end of the tunnel is a train it’s like…. we can still have hope it’s not a train. 

What a little worries me is the Knight of Cups rx because this is again, juggling, mood swings between seeing the positive aspect of this or feeling sulky and moody. With this RX  knight the problem is that he is overly romantic, daydreaming or the opposite, he feels everyone is leaving him and reject him. He is in emotional turmoil. And I feel even he won his inner battles and start to heal he will check back to the past. Not necessarily reconnect with an old flame but starting to live in the past and asking “what if…?” and starting to replay the past decisions, emotions and those are not healthy.  I think all of those will leave him emotionally insecure and confused. 

The relationship now (at the time of the reading)

2 cards felt out face down and when I flipped the first it was the Lovers. And I was WOW that is something new, how exciting, second was the World rx. I pulled 2 clarifications on the Lovers: the Empress rx and the Strength. First, let’s see these 4 cards. 

When I was thinking about the Lovers card’s sudden appearance after 6 months in the first time I felt (because of the other cards) that some seducing going on like they were doing it when I pulled the cards or some other games were going on like she was trying to convince him about something and she was seducing him to get what she wants.

The World rx is unfinished business, no closure, something is not finished yet, unfulfillment. 

I think she (because Emprx is always her in my readings) feels that this relationship is not dead yet or she is not ready to give up. Look at the Strength card. There is a woman, taming a lion, a beast with her, kindness, will, determination etc. This card is also the first card in the second set of sevens we can separate the Major arcana (1-7, 8-14, 15-21), so it could mean a new chapter too. I feel this is what she wants very badly. However, in this situation, the question is who has the real strength? Maybe she is on her way to use convincing tactics but in real life, she wants something HC has or something that she cannot get if he doesn’t want to give. And I think this is the relationship itself or some aspect of it.  

The World rx  is still not a bad card could mean success but that success is not what you wanted or how you imagines it. There is a serious anticlimax here. And it’s a very short-lived success, if at all. So no matter what female tactics she uses for keeping alive the relationship if HC doesn’t want to give the relationship another round, she can do anything, she won’t succeed.

On a very direct level, it could mean that the whole world is watching them and she feels the pressure of it “the world’s burden on her shoulders” Maybe there is a lost connection and she wants to make up this with sex or being physical. 

With the Emp rx and the Strength, I see a serious manipulation going on. 

The rest of this spread is The High Priestess, 2 of Swords rx, Ace of wands rx. If you want to imagine the “spread” it’s 5 cards, HP in the middle, on the left the Lovers ( without signifiers) and the World rx, on the right the 2ofSrx, AceofWrx .

Why is this important? I am studying the HP atm because for me this is the most fascinating card, I always have a hard time interpreting. Many people saying this is a secretive woman, someone with secrets etc...I think this is such a simplifying way to handle this card. HP is not secretive in a gossipy, mean girl way or someone who is cheating etc. She doesn’t share her knowledge because we are not ready, not because she is enjoying that she knows something we don’t. She is a gatekeeper. On the card, she is sitting before a veil (veil between the worlds), she has some sacred text in her lap. In the RWS deck, this is the Tora, in my personal deck, this is the Book of Shadows. She is aware of those deep truths, ancient knowledge. This is not some simple secret or gossip.The High Priestess wisdom in the light in the Hermit’s lamp that separates him from the complete darkness and shows him the path he has to choose.  On the veil, there are pomegranates that link her to Persephone whose faith was living between two worlds. She keeps those worlds apart.  (this was my short essay on The High Priestess for you,welcome :D )

So what is the significance of all of this? That I think in the spread THP separates the thing NV wants to achieve and the truth or the thing she wants to avoid. On the left there is the manipulation, the seducing, trying to tame the beast, trying to make it sexual again on the right distance in a relationship, cold heart, love cannot come through because of the crossed swords, no sexual desire (Ace of Wrx). A of Wrx is infertility, impotency or not wanting the other sexually anymore. This card upright is a phallic symbol that’s why it is connected to sexuality, fertility, pregnancy, in reverse not just the lack of this but a thumb down too. It’s like giving a thumb down to the relationship and this is not just an “ I don’t like something”.In ancient times that means a death sentence to gladiators. It’s like the death sentence of this relationship. And I feel very symbolic that the first card was the Lovers and the last is this in this spread. A polar opposite in meaning that is separated by THP. The HP is not passive, he is the epitome of eternal stillness, the boundaries between two extremes. I feel this relationship like the whole reading is about duality ( 2ofPent, 2ofSw, THP, Judgment) as the first row of this reading, swords vs cups, mind vs emotions. These two things are battling in him.

The outcome of this relationship

Judgment, 3 of cups rx.

Numerologically the Judgment (XX 20=2+0=2)

On the Judgment card, an angel blows her trumpet and people rise up from their coffins. Do you remember what I said about the Death rx?  That one meaning of this is “emerging from the death”. Clarity, decision made, realization, powerful understanding. Also means huge transformation. In a relationship could be a Karmic connection. With the 3ofC rx is the realisation that the relationship is no fun anymore. More work than joy. I don’t mean “it’s a pr “, I mean their time together is less fun more work in the relationship. Or no matter how much they try the fun is just lost.( for example they can have sex, the real desire is gone) Also, this is the drinking card so maybe the realisation they over partied and drank way too much in this relationship and they don’t like each other that much if they are sober. Also could mean infidelity or a third weel in not necessarily a cheating sense, for example, one of them has a friend/parent etc and that person is so involved and present in the relationship that the other feels it’s a third party in this. This card also means no reconnection, mistrust.

I think the theme of this relationship and his next few weeks is balancing and trying to conquer himself. Battling between mind and heart, logic reason and emotions. 

This reading has a 2nd part, I pulled some cards on 30th.

For now, I will only reveal from that reading one thing. I asked about timing and breakup. I got the 5 of Swords. So this card means October 3 times. How is this possible? 

1.Methond - days, weeks, months, years

Swords are weeks, so this card means 5 weeks from 19th September

2.Method Seasons

Swords means Autumn. October is Autumn.

3.Method Astrological corresponds

Swords : Air signs. Gemini, Libra, Aquarius. 

Libra is September 23 – October 22. 

However, I felt I need a 2nd card, a clarification. It was the Hanged Man. This means, delays, no time period available. I interpret this as the break up will happen in October but we won’t know about it for a while. And yes, I am prepared that she or someone maybe reading this and they will organize something in October, but this doesn’t change the fact that I am getting October SINCE April. That’s why I said in a previous ask that, this is a joke from Universe if they won’t break up in October. 

I hope you enjoyed this reading.

Be blessed. :) 

#pmitarotreadings #tarot reading #tarot #celebrity tarot #alleged #opinion

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH54

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 54: Purgatory Reunion (VI)

At this moment, the world was silent.

Qi Leren stood on a black rock in the middle of the lake of fire, staring at Ning Zhou, who had become a dragon. The dragon also stared at him. The slender and horrible vertical pupils of cold-blooded animals showed the gentleness of recognition.

The fire and rain falling from the sky stopped, and the magma erupting angrily because of the force of destruction also stopped. This dark underground world was immersed in the warm sunshine pouring in from the gap and the holy light from the Prophet's Heart.

For a moment, Qi Leren couldn't say anything, because there were too many words choked in his throat. When he opened his mouth, the words that could be said and could not be said were about to slip away before his eyes.

He held out his hand and wanted to touch the dragon that he was so close to. Even in purgatory, its head was head high rather, not low. But the dragon in front of him gently lowered its head and stopped in front of his eyes.

Qi Leren stroked the dragon’s cold scales, and then hugged him. He didn't even dare to put pressure into it. He just put his face on the cold dragon scales and choked:

"Ning Zhou, I’m back."

This sentence was like a spell. Qi Leren’s tears that had been building finally flowed down. These tears were full of love and joy. He was thankful that he wasn’t too late, and that the tragedy in his nightmares hadn’t taken place. He finally came to Ning Zhou before everything was irreversible.

As long as Ning Zhou was still alive, there was still hope for everything.

It was also with this sentence that the dragon standing in the lake of fire slowly changed back to its human form—a thin, gaunt, but still alive Ning Zhou. When he stared at him with his blue eyes that held too much emotion, Qi Leren suddenly felt that Ning Zhou knew everything, and he understood everything.

Whether it was misunderstanding, deep guilt, or love, when they met again in this hot lake, a pair of loving souls embraced everything.

　　&&&

"Is this who you were talking about, His Majesty's dead lover?" The Witch of Nothingness turned her head. Although she never opened her eyes, she "stared" at the Devil of Evil, waiting for his answer.

All the demons sitting around the long table looked at him. This oppressive gaze made the Devil of Evil feel pressured. He spread his hands: "According to intelligence, he is indeed dead, but the truth of the matter doesn’t seem so simple. I’m afraid even our Majesty thinks he’s dead."

"Whose side is he from?" The Witch of Desperation only cared about this problem.

"The Holy See?" the Witch of Resentment murmured, staring at Qi Leren who was shrouded by the power of a holy angel.

"No, the intelligence said that he’s a foreigner. He came here from another world, and he had no faith. However, his strength is biased towards the Holy See. Which master in their camp gave him an item to borrow strength?" the Devil of Evil mused.

The Witch of Desperation waved her hand, and the magic mirror’s perspective pulled away, overlooking the lake of fire from a distance. The paradise reflected in the holy light covering the sky had the divine beauty of dusk, just as it had been repeatedly described in the Canon, the home of God.

"It’s the Village of Dusk’s Prophet!" The Witch of Nothingness recognized the characteristics of this miracle and revealed it in the same breath.

"It seems that His Majesty's little lover is a man favored by the Prophet. If he doesn't know what his original strength is, he’ll never become a 'guardian' like Maria, right?" The Devil of Evil touched his chin and showed innocent cruelty in his eyes. "Oh, I don't want to see the tragedy of that year repeat itself."

The Witch of Desperation looked at the magic mirror silently and said after a long time, "It's a pity... It’s almost too similar."

The Witch of Nothingness comforted: "There’s no rush for a while."

"Haha, aren't you going to rush out and stop them now? Even if you say yes, I won't go, I still want to keep this life for a long time." The Devil of Evil put his hands behind his head and leaned lazily against the back of the chair.

"Wait and see. It's not time for us to show up yet," said the Witch of Desperation, drawing a pause symbol on the attempted operation.

　　&&&

The two people didn't go far. Ning Zhou was tired when Qi Leren found him, as if he hadn't slept for several days, and he forced him to have a rest. They settled down in a secret cave not too far from the lake of fire, and Ning Zhou set up a barrier to prevent harassment from lower demons.

There were fluorescent fungi and luminous moths like butterflies in this cave, and Qi Leren took out a lantern to make the dim light illuminate their surroundings.

Qi Leren leaned against the cave wall, and Ning Zhou rested on his leg, his body covered with a blanket.

The warm light of the lantern allowed the two exhausted people to briefly escape from this Nightmare World and take a nap in a pure peaceful land. The scarred soul wrapped in its scarred body finally found rest here.

Ning Zhou quietly looked at Qi Leren, but he couldn't close his eyes for even a moment until Qi Leren secretly hooked his hand under the blanket, and their two hands clasped each other. Then, his nervous look eased slightly.

"Can't sleep?" Qi Leren asked softly.

Ning Zhou shook his head gently, holding Qi Leren's hand tightly, as if when he let go, the warmth in his hand would slip away quietly.

"Then let's talk for a while?" Their old estrangement had long since disappeared. At this time, Qi Leren simply had endless questions and endless words. He was curious about everything about Ning Zhou, his childhood, his past, his mood, and he also had a lot of things to tell him, such as how worried he was... He can talk about forever on his own.

Qi Leren couldn't help but talk about it. From the beginning when he had found love at first sight, he talked about his inner struggle and suffering.

"...I'm not afraid to love someone of the same sex, but I'm afraid my feelings will hurt you. At that time, I even thought… if I choose to be patient to let you live better, I would rather… be patient my whole life. But... but, in the end, my love has become your burden. I'm sorry, Ning Zhou... I'm sorry..."

Just as tears fell from his eyes, Ning Zhou wiped them away with his fingers.

"At that time, I wrote a 7 to tell you that I would be resurrected in seven days, but the moment I wrote it, I regretted it. Because... I shouldn't have said this... I never knew it would be so painful to tell the truth. If I hadn't said it, maybe you wouldn't be here now, you'd still be living in Neverland, and you wouldn't suffer so much..."

When Qi Leren had learned of Ning Zhou’s end in that game, besides his great fear, his heart had been filled with endless guilt and remorse.

He instinctively blamed himself for everything, and decided that his existence had made Ning Zhou embark on a road full of thorns, which was indeed the case. Without his existence, Ning Zhou's identity would still be an exorcist in Neverland, instead of... a descendant of the Destroyer.

"Then you would spend your whole life deceiving yourself?" Ning Zhou asked gently.

Qi Leren was silent.

"Calm pain is better than hypocrisy. I should pay for it all my life, but I shouldn't cheat it all my life... I’ve never regretted my choice." Even at the moment when he was determined to end himself, his heart was filled with endless sadness and despair, but there was no resentment or regret.

Even when he sank into the abyss of despair at that moment, he was illuminated by a beam of light, and he had been redeemed.

God gave him a miracle to embrace the light at the end of Hell.

He had courage and determination again. He wanted to give it a try and see if he could control the raging destruction, not sink into the power and become a slave to it. He was willing to try for the person he loved, even if it was an almost impossible challenge.

He was willing to die for this world, but he was willing to live for his lover.

Sometimes it was harder to live than to die.

"Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Those who can endure and overcome temptation will be rewarded." Ning Zhou gently recited the words in the Canon and looked at Qi Leren. "God has rewarded me and he sent you back to me."

Qi Leren could no longer speak. He felt another person's heat on his skin, so warm and pleasant.

He read another person's soul from his eyes, so pure and calm.

He was glad again that he had not missed Ning Zhou.

Qi Leren took out the Canon and said with a smile: "Chen Baiqi gave it to me. I’ll read it to you. If you’re tired, just sleep."

So in the dim light, he read from the first page: "After the destruction of the ancient world, everything was chaotic and asleep. There was no past, no future, no center, no margin, only endless darkness. The gods came from outside, each sowing a seed. Some seeds died before they germinated, while others were swallowed up as soon as they sprouted. Only the seeds of Father God were born within light and darkness, sky and earth, sun, moon, and stars. Father God was happy, for he wanted to bring life into the seed and make it become its own world..."

Ning Zhou closed his eyes and seemed to be asleep.

Qi Leren closed his book carefully and gently stared at Ning Zhou. At this moment, his heart was full of both sourness and sweetness. He was glad that he had arrived here in time, and pulled him out when Ning Zhou was at his most helpless and vulnerable, so that he didn't fall into the abyss of death.

At first, he thought that Ning Zhou's death would be at the hands of others, but when he came to the lake of fire and watched the black dragon roar in despair, he suddenly understood.

What would kill Ning Zhou was not the devils hidden in this underground world, but the devil inside Ning Zhou.

At that time, Ning Zhou's heart was so desperate that he would rather die of guilt than live in the world... This thought made Qi Leren feel sourness in his eyes.

A fluorescent moth, which had stopped on the cave wall, came down lightly and stopped on the blanket that covered Ning Zhou, emitting blue-green light. Qi Leren moved his fingers and drove it away.

"I believe that power has nothing to do with good and evil. You have never fallen," Qi Leren whispered, tracing Ning Zhou's sleeping face with his eyes.

Ning Zhou didn't open his eyes, but he held his hand tightly.

A teardrop trickled down from the corner of his eye and sank into the shadows.

In this dark world where only a lantern shone faintly, they devoutly delivered trust and love, and then received redemption from each other.

The long night road that they had once thought they would never be able to see the end of, all of a sudden, had already revealed the tiny lights between the distant mountains.

Qi Leren suddenly felt deeply touched. When he was trained hellishly by Chen Baiqi, he had rationally understood that all this was for his own good, so deep down, he had no hesitation or complaints. But when he held Ning Zhou's hand at this moment, he suddenly understood everything, and everything he had endured, whether it was hard training or life and death tests, had taught him to grow with every step. He had to keep growing.

What he shouldered was no longer his own life.

To the world, he was only a trivial person, but to the one who loved him, he was his whole world.

——I am willing to create a paradise on earth for you, and I am willing to hold your wandering and painful soul here.

——At this moment, I only wish that you have a good dream.

-----

Editor’s Notes: After nearly two hundred chapters, we finally get to see some sweetness between them :’)

[Here] is some fanart of their reuinion.

-----

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[therealvinelle]

Maybe this is bold of me to ask, but are there any deleted scenes from your fics, or scenes you had consideted writing but didn't? And if yes, would you be willing to share them someday?

Oh no problem!

Usually when a scene is deleted it stays deleted, so I don't have a lot to give you. There are a few things that were cut in betaing for various reasons, I can put a few of them below a readmore in this post.

There's the prologue that never was to Nebuchadnezzar's Dream, from back when the fic was supposed to be told alternately from Bella and Carlisle's respective points of view. In the prologue we saw how Bella, Alice, and Edward came to the point where they decided to overthrow the Volturi. Or, we would have, except I didn't actually like that prologue, and found myself jumping straight to writing chapter 2, the "Carlisle is at a party and gets attacked by a werewolf" chapter instead. My good beta @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin asked why I didn't simply make the whole fic from Carlisle's point of view, I realized she had an excellent point, now here we are.

For that matter, this is nowhere near the only significant change that happened to this fic during writing. One example, in the original outline I never brought up Carlisle's gift. Two significant things in the last chapter were not planned until after I published chapters twelve and thirteen, respectively (Luckily for me it'll look like I plotted them all along, so yay for that). For a tightly plotted fic, this one has had a lot of leeway.

Slight caveat, as I’m self-conscious: with most of these you will probably be able to tell why they’re deleted scenes. Especially the prologue. God, that prologue.

(Also, for the record yes I do write other things, but due to 1. being betaed, and 2. being long, I really only have examples for Nebuchadnezzar's Dream.)

The prologue that never was. Apologies for the fluff saturation:

The Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II once had a dream.

There was a statue that was gold on top, then silver, then copper, then iron, then clay and iron. As he watched, a rock struck its feet, and soon the whole statue crumbled, leaving nothing but rubble. The rock then grew into a great mountain that covered all the world.

This, the prophet Daniel told the king, was a message from Jehovah.

The statue represented five great human empires, the golden head being the Babylonian Empire, and the following three being those who would come after. The last would be both iron and clay, a divided kingdom. It will fall, and then the kingdom of Heaven will come, crushing those empires in its path.

Thousands of years later, in 1453, the Byzantine Empire fell. The last of the Roman Empire, a divided kingdom, had fallen.

The Christian world trembled, because reckoning was surely near. With the fall of this last, great human empire, all the world would fall to rubble.

-

Fifteen years had passed.

The Cullens had left Forks behind, settling in the small town of Grafton, Idaho. Carlisle had quickly settled into the new hospital, and Esme had designed a beautiful new home for them while the rest attended the new school. Jasper and Rosalie were Carlisle’s younger siblings while Bella, Edward, Renesmée and Esme comprised another set of siblings. Alice and Emmett were the fosters.

Jacob wasn’t far, he still lived with his old .

«Did you hear they all scored an A on Mr Rosen’s test? Seriously, all of them!»

The words were uttered by Jenna Gilbert, a blonde sophomore who reminded Bella very much of Jessica Stanley. She was sitting on the opposite end of the cafeteria from Bella and her family, though

«Jen, it’s the Cullens, that’s just what they do. You should stop comparing yourself…» her friend said soothingly.

Bella ducked her face into her hand to hide her smile, and winked at Alice, who grinned back at her.

It was Bella and Renesmée’s first time going to high school as a vampire. It was exactly what Edward and Alice had said it would be, for better and for worse.

For the worse, because she spent her days pretending to be a human girl, never using her strength or speed, pretending Edward wasn’t her husband and Renesmée wasn’t her daughter.

For the better, because she got to spend every day with Edward, Renesmée, and the rest of her new family. The others had done the high school routine too many times to see things the way she did, and Renesmée had never known a life without the Cullens, but to Bella, attending high school as one of Dr. Cullen’s adoptive kids felt like she had truly come full circle since that first day she spotted Edward in the cafeteria. She was one of them, truly, irrevocably, and high school was nothing if not a promise of the countless years to come surrounded by the people she loved.

Edward caught her eye, and she smiled back at him. She lowered her shield briefly to show him how happy she was to be with her family.

His face softened into that beautiful, lop-sided smile of his, and he leaned in to whisper into her ear, «You’ll be less happy when you’ve been through English 101,» he said.

«Hey, hey,» Jasper said quickly. «Don’t you dare, Edward, I need all the happiness I can get in this place.» He locked eyes with Bella. «Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.»

Bella laughed, and rested her head on Edward’s shoulder. He placed his hand above hers on the table, and she smiled. «Not a problem, Jazz.»

Jenna’s voice caught her notice again. «Look at how they’re sitting! Try and tell me they’re not incestuous, Cam. Just try.»

Her friend didn’t reply to that one, although a quick glance informed Bella that the girl was staring at the Cullen table with a frown on her face.

Bella and Alice caught each others’ eye again, and this time they couldn’t hold back the giggles.

***********

Later in the day, Alice’s eyes lit up. «You’ll receive a letter from Stefan and Vladimir a week from now,» she chirped.

«Oh!» Bella exclaimed. «What does it say?»

«The usual,» Alice replied, her eyes slightly distant as she concentrated. «They hope we’re all doing well, and they included a new story of how things used to be before the Volturi. It’s the story of how they once built an entire temple for themselves in just one day. Oh, and they have a new phone number. O-seven nine six five nine six.»

Bella’s eyes widened as Alice talked. She hoped they had included drawings of that temple, it sounded incredible.

Bella hadn’t expected the Romanians to stay in touch, when they left after the thwarted battle with the Volturi she thought they would slink back into the old European shadows they had cloaked themselves in for that past several thousand few years, not to be heard from until some new threat to the Volturi loomed.

But no, that very next Christmas Bella had received a gift from them. It was an old, if flaked painting of Ivan the Terrible looking a lot like Vladimir, and a note from Vladimir explaining how he fooled all of Russia into believing he was their ruler for decades, all right beneath Aro’s nose. Carlisle had broken into a fit of uncharacteristic giggles when he heard that, and even agreed to put the painting in the hallway. To this day, he’d huff with silent laughter whenever he walked past it.

After that, Bella and the two Romanians had been in touch. They’d send her gifts, stories, and their own observations about the Volturi, and she’d respond fondly.

It was a very unlikely friendship, but she was was eternally grateful to all those who had stood with her family when the Volturi came. The Romanians were no exception,

«Are you going to call them?» Alice inquired.

Bella nodded. «They were going to tell me about their visit to Thebes.»

(Outline: Prologue of sorts. Status quo update, everyone’s happy except for the part where the Volturi are waiting to kill them. Alice, Bella, and Edward form their plan. Alice sees that she’s going to have to send Carlisle away, and coincidentally his hospital colleagues are having their Christmas weekend in Montana. PERFECT. She talks to him.)

***********

Heavily altered scene from chapter 7

Carlisle makes more jokes than he did in the final product, they're unfunny to the point where my beta said "you can't publish this", the plague joke in particular is a bit too dark for him so I gave it to Jane instead. More importantly, the chapter itself has a very weird, clunky start:

«Is it the gift of being profoundly unimpressed by ridiculous claims?» Carlisle deadpanned. «Because if so, Aro, I think you might be on to something.»

Several seconds had passed since Aro made his ridiculous claim. At first, Carlisle had burst out laughing. Then, as he realized he was the only person in the room laughing and Aro was staring at him in full seriousness, his laughter had trailed off and he’d been left to stare dully at Aro for several long seconds, waiting for Aro to crack up and say «gotcha!».

Aro never cracked up.

Carlisle had absolutely no idea what Aro was playing at, especially not immediately after Carlisle had very reluctantly decided against shutting him out of his life.

«You can’t be serious,» he’d said.

Aro had sighed. «I’m afraid I am.»

And now, at Carlisle’s deadpan guess, Aro only shook his head. «Not quite.»

Carlisle stared at him for another second, before he ventured another, scathing guess. «Are you hoping it’s the power of being highly suggestible? Because I definitely don’t have that, or I would have abandoned my diet centuries centuries ago.»

Aro just looked at him. «If you would let me explain-» he began, but Carlisle cut him off.

«No, no, you want to try and convince me I have some sort of gift, then I want to guess at what you’re going for,» he said, crossing his legs at the knee and propping his chin up on his knuckle in a faux-pensive look.

«Now,» he continued, even as Aro gave him the world’s most unimpressed glare, as if Carlisle was the one who was being ridiculous, «I’m pretty sure I would have noticed the power to throw fireballs by now, so it can’t be that,» he mused aloud. «Same goes for the power of…» he searched his mind, «turning into a bat. That one would definitely have come up at some point. Or maybe I should suspend myself upside down in a cave. See if it triggers anything. Just to be sure.»

«Carlisle,» Aro murmured, but Carlisle wasn’t done.

«Maybe I spread disease. My father certainly thought demons did. Maybe that’s why I get so many interesting patients. Those brain fungi,» he nodded towards Renata, who was still sitting with the book open in her lap, «I’ve had two in one year. That’s a lot.»

«Carlisle-» Aro tried again, but Carlisle held up a finger, a wide grin spreading across his face.

«The power to change my eye color. You see, yesterday they were black-»

Aro actually rolled his eyes at that. Of course, he made the insolent gesture look like a fluid, enchanting movement.

«Yes, quite funny, now if you would let me explain…» Aro tried again while Carlisle tried not to snicker at his own joke.

***********

Two deleted paragraphs from chapter 9. The alteration was made because it was a bit on the nose about what Renesmée does.

Humans were mammals, and mammals were hardwired to protect their young. This extended across species, making mother cats care for puppies and humans care for anything that was small and cute. The instinct to love and cherish anything cute and helpless was an evolutionary necessity, and had to run deeper than anything if a species wanted to survive.

Enter Jane, who was the smallest, cutest thing Carlisle had ever seen, but from a species humans instinctively knew to fear. Maybe the very fact that she was something that humans knew they should want to care for made their fear exponential, made it impossible to deny that something was very wrong about her, that they were looking at a predator.

Perhaps too there was something to vampires having retained some of that human instinct to protect their young, if the countless stories of covens dying to protect their immortal children was anything to go by. Carlisle himself had been no exception when the Volturi came for Renesmée, even as he found himself risking the lives of countless friends.

How far things had come, he thought, from preparing to die along with his loved ones at the hands of the Volturi to sitting across a café table with Jane and pitching costume ideas.

***********

Chapter 9 was heavily altered, mainly as it was too funny the first (and second!) time around and I kept having to return to insert more existential dread. A side effect of this is that Carlisle in the original draft was still undecided on whether he had a gift up until the very end of the chapter, whereas it's proven beyond a doubt much earlier in the published version.

Jane was looking a bit daunted, though it was nothing compared to how Carlisle felt.

Silently, they went to stand in front of one of the many sports stores that Whitefish had to offer.

«This could still be confirmation bias,» Carlisle whispered, and leaned against the wall. For all the human blood that was in his system, his knees felt oddly weak.

Jane let out a startled laugh. «You’re seriously still in denial?»

Carlisle shook his head quietly. «They reacted pretty reasonably, just because they didn’t run away screaming…»

«Reasonably?» Jane echoed dully. «Carlisle, you can’t actually…» she shook her head. «Remember that bubble we talked about?»

Carlisle put his head in his hands, and let his fingers move up, under the wig, pulling it off in one neat motion.

Jane shook her head at him. «You look even more glamorous with your real hair.»

Carlisle still said nothing, balling the wig together in his hands.

Could it be he actually had a gift?

***********

The chapter 11 outline originally had Renata and Carlisle failing to communicate like normal people because they've spent too much time with Aro, and unintentional innuendo keeps ruining their attempts to make polite small talk. Sadly (or happily) this is a lot easier to conceptualize than carry out in actual writing, and their conversation wound up being far too serious for that, so it was cut. Luckily for you I did pen Carlisle flashbacking to a time his foot got in his mouth:

The moment after the words were out her face scrunched up.

Carlisle snorted. «Aro is a horrible influence on us all.»

He remembered one of his first talks with Jasper, when they were still getting to know each other.

Jasper had been a little starstruck when he learned Carlisle’s friends in Italy were those Italians.

He’d asked Carlisle a lot of questions once he got past a misplaced sense of awe, wanting to put a face to the eternal, petrified, leaders of the vampire world.

During a hunt with just the two of them, Jasper had been asking about Aro’s gift.

«What do you even think about when you’re with him?» Jasper had marvelled aloud, and he would later explain that the way he say it, this was like the way the Egyptian gods supposedly measured souls.

Place your heart upon the balancing scale against the weight of a feather, and if your heart weighs heavier it is devoured by the demon Ammit.

Place your hand in Aro’s, and if he deems you guilty of breaking his law, you will be torn to pieces in the space of a second.

Being friends with the man sounded unbearably stressful to Jasper.

Unfortunately, Carlisle’s mind had gone in the opposite direction, and what came out of his mouth before he could stop himself was, «England.»

He’d covered well enough for that, or he hoped he had. Jasper never asked.

***********

Chapter 11 was also supposed to have Renata being brave enough to ask for a selfie with Carlisle when they're both in black robes, this because I just really want Edward to sift through the Volturi group chat after all this and finding that. Alas, I couldn't work it in there. (Determined to not lose the joke, I had Aro take the photos in chapter 12 instead.)

***********

Chapter 12, the fandom ghost requested I include another butt slap and offered me fanart if I fulfilled her wish.

And so:

He held up a hand, presumably to touch Carlisle’s arm in comfort, but just then Alec started retching.

«He ate human food,» Jane deadpanned to Demetri, Felix, and Renata. Shaking her head, she brushed Alec’s hair out of his face as he hurled into the river.

Aro grimaced slightly, his hand hovering in the air.

Carlisle felt all the bread, corn flakes, and water that he’d swallowed press uncomfortably against his esophagus. «I’ll do you one better, Alec,» he choked, before he span around, fell to his knees and started retching, much like a cat.

Aro, evidently not sure what to do with his arm but not about to let it drop purposelessly, gave Carlisle a supportive pat on the bum before kneeling beside him to hold his hair as he hurled.

It was funny, but simply didn't fit the tone considering what happened after. It had to go. But hey, I got the art.

#there's more but these are the things that came to mind #my fic #nebuchadnezzar's dream #fic spoilers #of sorts kinda #doktrajediscovery

[pinkhairedlily]

[Open Your Mouth] Chapter 3 - O

See previous chapters here: AO3 | Tumblr

Summary: She downs her mimosa in one long drink and snaps her fingers. The television shuts blank, and she sashays her way to a room. It looks just like any other wall partition but it opens to an expansive study. It has a day bed on the side, a long table, and her most comfortable swivel chair. Metallic chairs are folded on the side for her clients.Taking up the rest of the space are shelves filled with her favorite books. In the middle, sandwiched by volumes of Crime and Punishment and Les Miserables are jars of teeth submerged in liquid, white, sparkly, well-maintained. On the other end of the wall is a chest box which also functions like a wide ottoman. Except that it isn’t. It’s a freezer for the meat she has yet to eat.

-xxxxxxx-

March 7, 2021, 12:03 PM

“Open your mouth please.” Her bright emerald irises pop out from her mask as she probes the inside of his mouth. Sasuke feels the metal tool scrape against his tooth on the lower left. His tongue is on the edge of making a clucking sound, but he winces from a sharp pain when she moves his tooth from front to back.

“It’s loose,” she confirms for him. He recognizes notes of jasmine in her proximity. “I can extract it for you now. You’ll just have to spend the rest of the day under pain killers.”

He dropped by her clinic during his lunch break, intending to take up her offer in the off chance that she accepts walk-ins.

Of course, it was situated on the 25th floor of one of Senju’s high rise buildings which houses their offshoot businesses in the medical field; one floor for every niche – a chiropractor on the tenth, a hair transplant on the 17th, herbal practitioners on the 20th.

Of course, the brunette receptionist with a very sharp eyeliner sent him away, and looked at him pointedly with visible annoyance when he brought up that the dentist offered the appointment herself. People often tell him he’s handsome, and he gets to use this pretty privilege during the conduct of cases sometimes. But people here are immune to his so-called stoic charm.

Of course, it’s probably because there are far richer, far more aristocratic clients than him that would have naturally made a beeline towards the beautiful dentist.

He clucks nonetheless, his tongue grazing against the cold metal. “Can you do it under thirty?”

“Rushing for an appointment?” She gets the syringe from her assistant and taps it on her delicate wrist.

“Vying if I could get ten more minutes for an ice cream.” Her hands are light and quick to inject the anesthesia in the surrounding gums. He hears her soft chuckle against her mask.

“Not the first time that someone did that move.” She hands him his cone with one scoop of mint chocolate.

“I’m not a fan of sweets if you should know,” he says. “Is strong arm strength needed for a dentist?” Two big bites from the top.

Sakura blushes with an intensity, he notes, and in contrast her actions – she shies away her gaze from his stare with her fingers devoid of any jewelry. “You’re as direct as everyone in your lot goes, huh?”

“Is the topic too morbid for you, Dr. Haruno?”

“I’m keeping tabs with the news but I forego the specifics.” She fiddles with her two scoops of double dutch in a small cup. “But to answer your question, you only need to have the right leverage, an accurate position, and a good angle to ease out the naughtiest of teeth. However, it’s really an advantage to have great arm strength. It can get tiring after the twelve noon patient.”

Sasuke finishes his ice cream in the next three bites, feeling nothing in his mouth, the anesthesia still kicking, but he can taste the blood mingle with the freshness of mint, a tinge of rust in the sweetness on his tongue. “You’re not as bothersome as everyone in your lot.”

She raises both of her eyebrows, not sure if she understands his underlying implications.

“Dr. Tsunade Senju and Dan Haruno, top billing general surgeons of the medical world.”

Her mouth opens to form a small and soundless oh. “Ah I’m sure you already snuffed most information about me – it goes that way, right? Ah? Not at all? – So the thing is….I’m not their legitimate daughter. I’m adopted.”

He didn’t have to snuff, these are all open information in the playground of the rich. “A stroke of luck to land on a high end and well managed orphanage.” Her immense wealth does not translate to jewelry, face jobs, and fancy lash lifts. On her breast pocket are three pilot coletos, an apple watch on her wrist, mid-budget choice of clothes, and comfortable white Nike sneakers to be later replaced with a good fit of block heels. When summed up, they barely make a dent out of her daily worth. The rest of the money must have been channeled to her clinic’s state of the art facilities.

“You could say that I struck gold with my circumstances since then.” She spoons out a big chunk of her ice cream.

“But not prior.” The sugar brown cone also disappears in his mouth, all the chewing done by only one side.

“Amnesia. I reportedly had a traumatic head injury when they found me.” Her pink locks drift to the side, her head tilted in expectation of his further prodding.

Sasuke twists the line to another direction, and he captures the quick change of her microexpression from subtle guarding to surprise. “Would it be possible to inject one strong dose of anesthesia to the full mouth and extract all teeth?”

“Enough to knock them unconscious,” she confirms.

And kill them without sound, Sasuke surmises. He stands up and taps his wristwatch. “My ten minutes with you is up. I take it my extraction procedure is free?”

“I’m sure you’ll afford the next one.” She continues to fiddle with her cup as she watches him go.

Sasuke halts in his exiting steps and looks back at Sakura like it’s an afterthought. “If you’d like a payment, a dinner wouldn’t be so bad.” He turns on his heels and doesn’t stop, he can hear a faint laughter behind his back.

-x-

March 10, 2021, 7:16 PM

“Did I keep you waiting?” He slides on the seat across her and takes in her body language as well as their milieu.

They agreed to meet at seven sharp but Kakashi had asked for another briefing from him so he was held back. Her soft expression, in all its exuding naivety, gives nothing away. “This place doesn’t have no reservations, Detective.”

“Just Sasuke,” he remarks. He clucks his tongue in appreciation. “A hole in the wall noodle place. You frequent this area?”

“A reminder that you gave me the green light to choose.” She’s dressed today in an olive sweatshirt tucked into a neat pair of trousers and velvet loafers – a right mix of classy and casual. “It’s my assistant’s go-to. He would always bring me the best-selling set after a grueling work day so I asked for an address.”

“Thanks for the consideration, Dr. Haruno,” he says. Their order arrives minutes after, and she flashes an apologetic smile. For ordering beforehand Frankly speaking, he expected her to bring him into a Michelin restaurant – one to boost her reputation and second to blanket her in safety of familiar breeds. Or maybe safety is much better in company of anonymity.

“Just Sakura.”

They finish two plates of dimsum and almost empty out the small bottle of chili oil, garlic, sesame, and soy sauce concoction. Sipping a glass of soy milk after a bounty feast, Sasuke reviews the facts again in his mind.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Sakura asks, finished with her drink.

“Give me a hundred bucks then.”

“How many coffee orders would those be worth?”

Sasuke smirks in spite of himself. He changes topics again, on to the mundane life of a Senju-Haruno heir.

“How is the case progressing by the way?”

He glances up and notes the curiosity and fear in her eyes. “Classified information.”

She leans, plates with crumbles and half-empty glasses in between, and tilts her head, her rose locks spilling from her back. “Will they come for me?”

An alarm ticks off somewhere in his mind. “What makes you think so?” They’ve only had one body so far with no other indication of a succeeding death.

He sees that she bites the inside of her mouth, and she fiddles again with the cutlery in front of her. “Maybe I’m just overthinking.”

About ten minutes later, he ushers her outside the rather dingy restaurant but when no car arrives to escort her back to her place, he encourages her to place an uber. He could ask her to ride with him but the mere implications are layered, and he’s not ready for that quite yet. She gives him a look when he opens the door to her uber, an unspoken question she is yet to articulate. When he gets nothing within seconds, he waves goodbye.

“Give me a text when you’re home,” he says although he shouldn’t have.

“It has been an interesting night,” she replies. “Detective.”

The car finally drives away, and he remains with the remnants of her jasmine scent.

-x-

March 13, 2021, 5:49 PM, The second body

“You are not going to release that profile,” the wife of Haru Kagoshi says. She also stands as the chief overseas director of Haru Light, Inc. “Are you insinuating that my husband fucked a gay man?”

“Fuck is a callous word. Watch your tone,” the CEO of Mingwa Industries warn. “Are you sure you’re on the right track?”

“With all due respect, Captain Yamato is the best we have in the country in the field of criminal profiling. He knows what he’s doing,” Asuma assures everyone.

“And are your detectives doing the proper work? Are you covering all fields?” the Mingwa COO pointedly looks at Sasuke. “Because as far as performance goes, you’re allowing that killer to cripple our economy by snuffing out the next best minds.”

Kakashi’s eyes roll in sync with Sasuke’s at the cripple our economy.

Yamato stands up and offers a cup of coffee at the recently widowed which she explicitly ignores. “We will not be identifying the gender of the killer, but we need to narrow it down to males. Of course, it’s up to the public how they will presume it is connected to the genital mutilation.”

“Fuck you,” the widow says. “You know we can cut off your institutional funding, right?”

Kakashi has started massaging his forehead, a sign that he is nearing his bullshit tolerance level. “Yes you can, but we have an annual appropriation from the government. And cutting off our resources won’t solve this case any faster.”

“-with your due respect,” Asuma adds, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

The grandfather CEO of Mingwa Industries scoffs. “We’ll just have to launch our individual investigation then. In case you might be intentionally sabotaging the progress of this case, isn’t that right, Uchiha Sasuke?”

The disdain in his voice when Uchiha rolls off his tongue is jarring and pointed. Sasuke smirks in defiance, willing to push these elites further to the edge of self-destruction. Years in a gray cubicle and thousands of meters walked in company to a reviewing mind, he found that money could get you somewhere – just not the finish line. “You’d better keep an eye out on me then.”

“What the fuck was that about?” Asuma sneers at the detective department after the white collars scampered off. “They are strong lobbyists backing powerful politicians. We shouldn’t be picking a fight with them.”

“He started it,” Sasuke points to Kakashi who shrugs.

“Anyway, Yamato and I will prepare to announce the profile to the media, just a vague description, and then we’ll work on a composite sketch based on these assumptions,” Kakashi pats Asuma’s shoulders. “Ease up. I’m sure Sasuke and his team are doing their best.”

“I’m not doubting an Uchiha, but I’m doubting the way your petty behaviors get in the process of investigation. Now get out and do your jobs.” The Chief Police retrieves a half-emptied pack of cigarettes and lights up a stick. “This job is giving me cancer.”

11:13 PM

She sips her third glass of mimosa as her eyes drift to the sound of her television. A big banner of breaking news is placed below with the caption authorities release a profile: a serial killer at hand?

She chuckles, almost spilling the cocktail on her fingers. She drifts closer to the screen and her nails stick on the necks of the silver-haired man and the man who she assumes is the criminal profiler.

“Authorities confirm that Armando Mingwa and Haru Kagoshi have been killed by the same person. Renowned profiler Captain Yamato reveals the breakdown of the suspect – male with a minimum height of 5’7, age from late 20s to early 30s, and frequents the high-end districts. When asked if we have a serial killer at large, the chief detective and the profiler neither confirmed nor deny.”

She downs her mimosa in one long drink and snaps her fingers. The television shuts blank, and she sashays her way to a room. It looks just like any other wall partition but it opens to an expansive study. It has a day bed on the side, a long table, and her most comfortable swivel chair. Metallic chairs are folded on the side for her clients.Taking up the rest of the space are shelves filled with her favorite books. In the middle, sandwiched by volumes of Crime and Punsihment and Les Miserables are jars of teeth submerged in liquid, white, sparkly, well-maintained.

On the other end of the wall is a chest box which also functions like a wide ottoman. Except that it isn’t. It’s a freezer for the meat she has yet to eat.

March 24, 2021, 1:10 PM

“So what was the dentist’s alibi?” Neji asks the sullen detective.

“He had a meditation class for each date – January 29 and February 27 – which runs for five hours. They time it with the moon cycles. I also called his teacher – she prefers to be called witch ­– and confirmed his attendance.” Sasuke clucks his tongue. “However, they are a class of 100. He can easily slip out when everyone else is closing their eyes and saying humbda dumda.”

He glances at the map on the wall, pins already on the dumpsites, and he zeroes in on the address smack in the middle. “And he can dump the body with his nondescript car and go back in again. Did you know he has three cars – a Tesla, Mercedes, and a black pick-up?”

Tenten carries a fresh pot of coffee to the table and stares at their evidence board. “I’m guessing it’s the same truck with the garbage ones – those going through the suburbs?”

Sasuke nods. “He says it’s for farming. He has a land on the rural side of the district.”

Jugo raises a brow. “That ends my snooping in with the golden spoons.”

“Not quite Jugo.” Neji fills himself a cup. “These people socialize in the same circles you know.”

Someone knocks on the open door of the room and raises a box of cake. “Delivery for you, Detective Uchiha.” The staff attempts to enter but Jugo raises a finger to stop her.

“Who’s it from?” Jugo asks. “It might be the killer.”

The staff scratches the back of her head. “I don’t think the killer is a beautiful pink-haired lady with green eyes.”

All heads turn curiously to Sasuke who gets the cake from the staff. “It’s my punishment.”

Tenten’s eyes narrow at the name on the card. Haruno Sakura. “How is it a punishment? She brought you – us – sweets.”

“She knows I hate sweets. Help yourself though.”

“So you’re dating?” Neji says it with disbelief. “How? You’re barely in the office and – oh my god, you’re skipping hours aren’t you!”

Jugo repeats the name over and over. “Fuck. You’re seeing the Haruno Sakura? She’s as recluse as the oddball heirs go, but I’ve only heard good things from her. I heard she’s very skilled with her hands. Experienced it yet, Uchiha?”

Sasuke kicks him in the shin as soon as he’s done talking. “Firsthand. A tooth on the lower left. Now shut up and get back to work.”

-x-

April 12, 2021, 6:17 AM, The third body

The team congregates in the morgue. Another body. Only this time, it was found on a ravine, some parts already devoured by wild animals.

“It’s Fugashi Imamu, current overseas director of Imamu Holdings,” the medical examiner tells them. “Same methods done but there’s more clotting on the crotch area, indicating his genital was mutilated while he was still alive.”

Jugo and Neji both groan inwardly.

“He has an eight-year old.” Tenten crosses her arms in front of her. “A math wizard.”

Sasuke closes his eyes, fending off the initial signs of a migraine. The cases kept piling, and they were nowhere close to a lead. “Can you estimate the date of death?”

“I wouldn’t know just yet with all the rigor mortis and animal attacks. But if we pattern this with the recent killings, and the body was dumped within the last two weeks, the killing must have taken place on the last week of March.”

11:13 AM

March 29, Sasuke thinks about the ME’s latest message. There must be a pattern for the dates of killings. And if there was, they are up against an intelligent killer, a methodical one. He must have a list of targets with a step by step process on how to approach and kill each one. He plans weeks ahead with several contingencies.

“Captain Yamato confirms the ME’s assumption. There really is a pattern,” Tenten tells the team. “Unfortunately, the information already reached the golden spoon team.”

Neji comes in with stacks of folders and notebooks. “Got all his stuff from his secretary. Seems like the bastard slept around or may have been just a bad boss, said she couldn’t be more than happy to live in a world rid of such filthy lolita creep – her words, not mine.”

They go through each page, jotting down relevant information. Sasuke, on the other hand, flips through a small wallet-sized planner. Jotted down on March 26 is veneers with Dr. Akugawa. He seems like the go-to dentist of the big shots. He goes further up the dates and there on March 6 is a name he doesn’t expect. Haruno Sakura.

“It’s true. His daughter had an appointment with me,” Sakura confirms over the phone. “But he also dropped by last year for a tooth extraction dislodged by a punch from his grandfather. Old money can be quite controlling.”

“Ah. Doesn’t he have a family dentist?” He taps his pen on his desk, tens of gears running through his mind.

“Told me his dentist was unavailable for an emergency procedure so he dropped by the one nearest his office.”

Sasuke looks at the time on his watch. “Did you have lunch yet?”

“I have an 11:30. But I can see you in 12.”

He gets there fifteen minutes before, and he flashes his badge to Laura who has grown accustomed to his lunch break visits. Nonetheless, her countenance makes apparent her dislike.

“Your cctv records please,” Sasuke tells her. It isn’t a request, Laura knows, so she leads him to the administrative room on the floor and instructs the staff to show the dates he mentions.

Kiyoko Imamu went there on March 6 with her mother and a helper. They backtrack until they find the date when Fugashi had an appointment. A 30-minute visit and he was quickly out.

“Does Dr. Haruno have other clinics? A private location for a niche clientele?” Sasuke asks.

Laura shakes her head. “Only this one, and she doesn’t accept house calls. She likes to concentrate her work in one place.”

He tells the staff to rewind the records on January 29, February 27, and March 29. Nothing was peculiar about Sakura’s body language, Sasuke notes. He commits all records in his memory and allows himself to be ushered out by Laura. They arrive to Sakura waiting at the receptionist’s desk.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” She asks him with a tilt in her head.

“Just right about now.” He offers an open arm to her which she links with hers. Her face immediately blooms in shades of red.

“We have mussel soup today and grilled mackerel. On the other hand, we also serve bolognese. Or do you have any other location in mind?”

“Your cafeteria’s menu sounds nice.”

They’re interrupted by Sasuke’s phone.

“Where are you?” Kakashi’s voice borders on the edge of frustration.

“Lunch,” Sasuke replies.

“Come back asap. The families had Jugo come in and take Akugawa for questioning.”

#open your mouth #sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #pinkhairedlily #crime and mystery au #thriller au #am i even doing this right lmao

[romance-addict]

me: *sees Tadaai week is happening the first week of August* Oh my god! This is so amazing and exciting! 😍🥰🤗

my brain: *sees the prompts* I like this one... and this one... oh, you could write this with this one. Yo, let’s participate!

me: Should I make a one shot for each day?😇

my brain: You could, but guess what would be even better than seven separate stories?

me: What?

my brain: One big story involving most of the prompts you want to write about!😎

me: How big? 😅

my brain: A trilogy! 😈

me: 😨😰😱😵🤯🥴💀 I won’t be able to write the entire trilogy in time! And does it have to be a trilogy, can’t I just do a duology? Why are you doing this to me?! 😭😭😭

my brain: If you can’t write the entire thing, just write the first part and you can take it more easy with the rest of it. Also, it doesn’t really matter whether it’s a duology or trilogy as long as the story is about Tadashi and Ainosuke having their well-deserved love story with some compelling OC characters that the readers don’t hate, and you better inlcude Mpreg, bitch, because those two gorgeous men deserve to have a kid with their genes, okay? Not to mention that you should definitely ruin Ainosuke’s paternal family.

me: *frantically takes notes, uses her brain meat, comes up with characters and a plot for 8 chapters, starts writing* I can do this! 

Two days until 1 August 

me: *ugly sobbing* 😭😭😭😭😭I CAN’T DO THIS! There’s no way I can do this by 7 August! I’m so fucking slow! I’m not even done with chapter 4! I also completely messed up the timeline and events before and during canon by giving Ainosuke a friend and a roommate during his stay in America, who studies psychology and is a native from Spain, including Ainosuke’s mama and making her into the “badass boss bitch mama bear” that she is (because Ainosuke definitely takes after his mother), there are supernatural elements that will probably sound like a cheap plot device, and there’s no “S”. 

I swear, with how I set up things, the anime doesn’t happen at all, because it wouldn’t fit with the character arcs I’ve created for Tadashi and Ainosuke, but I still found a way for Ainosuke to interact with the rest of the main cast and still be his eccentric, kinky, dramatic, over-the-top and violent self, who doesn’t give a shit about reputation and just wants to be himself, but like he isn’t violent with Reki or Cherry or any skater, but rather he’s violent with corrupt politicians and he’s a beast and a savage in politics and every corrupt politician is afraid of him, because he will destroy them to protect his people, as well as advance himself in the political hierarchy until he’s the Prime Minister because the people of Japan absolutely adore him and vote for him every fucking time.🥺🥺🥺

my brain: What are you so worried about? From what you’re telling me, you’re doing wonderful, darling. Everything sounds great so far. At the end of the day... it’s fiction. Fan fiction. And you’re allowed to write fan fiction of your favourite shows and even your own fan fiction, because it’s fun. 🥰 

me: Yeah, but what if nobody likes the story? What if the characters end up being too out of character? 😭

my brain: There’s no way nobody will not like your story. You’re just showing love to your favourite characters by helping Ainosuke find the strength to fight back his aunts, have friends, a lover and be the best version of himself that he can be without sacrificing aspects that make him him and by giving Ainosuke and Tadashi a happily ever after they deserve. 

And people who love these two will appreciate you for that.

(Hopefully.😅)

#tadaai #aitada #shindo ainosuke #kikuchi tadashi #sk8

[wrienne]

My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 7: Reconnaissance

You stared at him. “You must be freaking kidding me.”

“I’m afraid not,” replied Sejin as he reluctantly sipped his cup of coffee. “I’ll help you in any way I can, but it’s mostly up to you.”

“I… I’m...”

“You’re doubtful?”

“That wouldn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling,” you admitted and nervously scratched your arm. “I… I’ll try my best, I really will. But...”

You stopped yourself right then and there. You had merely promised Jungkook you would help him through the amnesia. It wasn’t necessary for you to get him back on top of the music industry again. But you knew he had suffered and worked and spent too much of his life to lose it all just because he was stupid and impulsive enough to drunkenly run out on the street at the wrong time. Also, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. Even though he was - or should you rather say had been - an absolute scumbag, if you would have never made him so upset, he might not be in the devastating situation he was in right now.

And he had changed. You felt it. Somehow, however little. Jeon Jungkook relied on you for the first time in your life.

You had a chance to help him. And although that was good enough morally speaking, what would be the point of all your efforts if he couldn’t perform again? The concert had clearly proven to you that Jungkook belonged up there, on stage, singing and dancing with his hyungs. Having a deadline of slightly more than three months would only mean you and Jungkook would have to work harder.

A lot harder.

“I’ll make it happen,” you said finally. “Jungkook will be able to perform in Japan by the end of May.”

You surprised yourself with how confident you sounded. Perhaps even Sejin, too, for he raised a surprised eyebrow before nodding in approval.

“I believe you can do this,” he told you. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just tell me.”

“Actually,” you began, “I need to get Jungkook some new clothes. Could you give me an address to where he lives and perhaps the numbers of his group members? Yours, too, if you don't mind.”

After exchanging numbers, you realized you could probably make a fortune selling the information to fanatic fans. Though, as Jungkook had stated yesterday, you didn’t really need any more money.

You parted ways with Sejin and found your parents’ private chauffeur, Kwon Jong-Yeol, waiting impatiently outside the entrance door to the hospital. While driving you home, he held a long lecture for you where he talked about the dangers of young women wandering around alone during the night. He didn’t even care about the emergency part, but then again, he had never been particularly fond of Jungkook.

You were done drying your hair after a much-needed shower when you decided to call your parents to tell them about your decision to break the engagement. As you stood in the hallway of your apartment, your heart pounding against your ribcage, you realized very quickly that nobody would reply. You weren’t particularly surprised, knowing your parents' habits of exercising early in the morning before work, and made a mental note to call them later in the day when they were free.

Frankly, you felt a bit relieved. You didn’t know how they would react upon hearing the news - nor did you want to know.

Before you zipped your phone into your jacket pocket, you spotted, to your great horror, that the seven numbers Sejin had given you were names you had never heard before, of course with the singular exception being him.

Jung Hoseok.

Kim Namjoon.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Taehyung.

Min Yoongi.

Park Jimin.

Six names. You guessed Jin, the guy who had blown a kiss at Se-Eun and her friends, was Kim Seokjin, but you hadn’t even the slightest idea regarding the remaining five. You barely remembered what their stage names - since that’s what they must have introduced themselves as at the beginning of the concert - had been.

You didn’t have the chance to stress over it much, since you were getting late to school and you had forgotten to read a chapter for the day’s first presentation. You planned to read during the drive, but you were so tired you fell asleep during the usual, boring road to Korea University Business School. Yes, you were enrolled in one of the prestigious SKY universities. But as the granddaughter of one of the most prominent businessmen in the world and the alleged heiress of his company, this surprised nobody.

It hadn’t really been much of a choice for you, since you had known, ever since you were four years old, that you would one day become the owner and CEO of Phoenix Inc. Even if your parents were to have birthed a hundred children after you, none of them would have become a candidate for the post. Because your grandfather had chosen you in particular, stated your name explicitly in his will, to become his successor as soon as you had finished college. Your dad was merely a placeholder - your placeholder - until that day.

You didn’t know why, though.

Se-Eun was waiting outside the main auditorium together with the other students when she spotted you approaching. She darted toward you, greeted you happily with a hug and took you a bit off to the side, so no one could overhear.

“You have to tell me what happened,” she blurted, her brown eyes glinting with curiosity. “We only have three minutes ‘til class, so you’d best keep it snappy.”

Thinking back on the last twelve hours, it wasn’t difficult for you to deduce that you could say nothing. Not even to your best friend.

“I… I can’t really talk about it,” you said truthfully. “But I promise, it wasn’t anything sensational.”

“I thought you were going to snap someone’s neck when you returned,” she said skeptically. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that upset. Were you embarrassed because they kicked you out? You didn’t have to let us wait for half an hour just to make it seem you had gotten backstage.”

“I was neither upset nor embarrassed,” you protested. “And if I wouldn’t have gotten backstage, I would have been only half as angry as I was yesterday.”

“I knew it!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “You are the quickest, craftiest person I know, (Y/F/N) - now spill the details! What’s there to be so on the down-low for anyways?”

“You know your dialect always spills through when you’re overexcited?” You gave her a teasing smile, pleasantly surprised with her compliment.

“Don’t try to change the subject,” she said stubbornly as she folded her arms across her chest. “Why are you so secretive about it?”

You shook your head. “I really can’t talk about it, I’m sorry.”

Se-Eun sighed, but she gave in. “Well, what did you think about the concert? Wasn’t it-- every one of them amazing? Especially Jungkook?”

When you didn’t immediately give her an annoyed eye roll, sigh or a directly opposed comment as you had the last couple of years whenever she brought up the subject of Jungkook, she whistled in surprise. “You must have really been floored,” she noted.

“Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. You recalled Jungkook’s presence on stage and almost shivered. His hair, darkened with sweat; his large eyes, filled with an intensity you had never before witnessed; his body language, purposeful and practiced, yet fluid and wild, like liquid mercury; and his voice, soft yet steady, controlled yet gentle.

Beautiful.

But then you remembered his face when he had spotted Kim Sejin. You remembered the creeping anguish in his voice when he had spoken to you and the desperate strength of his grip when he had held your hand. He had been a whole different person. Fearful and brittle. So near his dream yet suspicious, confused and alone.

Now he trusted only you. Of course, you couldn't forget his eyes on Park Yi-Jae, either.

Se-Eun had been discussing which solo performance had been her favorite while you reminisced, when she said something that caught your attention.

“‘Taehyung’?” you repeated. “Who is he?”

“Are you serious?” exclaimed Se-Eun. “I’ve been talking about BTS for years and you only now pay attention?”

“Sorry,” you said unapologetically as you checked the time on your phone. Class would begin anytime now. “You never listen to me when I talk about my interests.”

“Oh, I don’t? I’ll remember this, (Y/N).”

“Come on, I’ll buy you lunch. Now tell me.”

“You would have gotten in so much trouble without your family’s money,” she replied while giggling. “Whenever your tongue and stubbornness get you in trouble, you have an easy way out.”

“Please, Se-Eun,” you said impatiently as you spotted movement over your friend's shoulder. “Professor Kang has already begun letting people inside.”

“Make it free lunch for the whole week.”

You gave her a sharp look but knowing the time-crunch you were in, you also nodded. “Deal.”

Se-Eun began toward the door as she spoke, signaling for you to follow. “Kim Taehyung is V’s real name,” she told you. “Do you want to know the rest of their real names as well?”

You greeted Professor Kang while passing her, then nodded again.

“Rap Monster’s real name is in fact Kim Namjoon,” said Se-Eun as she followed you on your search for two available seats next to one another. She folded a finger for each member - and name in your contact list - as she continued. “Jin’s real name is Kim Seokjin. J-hope’s real name is surprisingly not J-hope but Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin is Jimin and Min Yoongi is Suga. You probably know Jungkook’s real name.”

Suga. Min Yoongi. He was the one who hadn’t spoken even once when you first had stumbled upon the group. With slim dark eyes and a solo performance that had left you feeling physically wounded.

There was something about him.

“Jimin is the shortest one, right? With the light voice?” you asked as you found two seats and sank down into one of them.

“He’s taller than you.”

“In comparison with the whole group,” you said as you rolled your eyes at her instant defense. “And it wasn’t an attack, merely an observation.”

Se-Eun sat down next to you. “I’m just saying. Now, what’s the reason you want to know about their names? Are you becoming a fan?”

“Not really,” you said nonchalantly. “I just thought it would be good to know the names of the seven guys my best friend plans to marry by the end of her twenties.”

“Well, that will be easy. I only intend to marry one of them. Can you guess who?”

You swallowed. Hard.

“I can’t believe you’re still shameless enough to fantasize about things like that,” you said in an attempt to change the subject, immediately regretting the path your joke had taken. “Aren’t you too old to be a fangirl?”

“You’re never too old to be a fangirl,” she said defiantly. “I have a whole scenario in the back of my mind for the time we first meet. Jungkook will have spotted me in the audience and fallen in love with me just like that. I just need to be seen by him, that’s all.”

“You’re absolutely mad,” you told her as you laughed in disbelief. “Love doesn’t work like that. He doesn’t work like that.”

“Right, I forgot you and him are childhood friends and have known each other for centuries.”

You regarded her closely. “You’re actually getting irritated, aren’t you?” you asked.

When she didn’t directly reply, you almost burst out in laughter again. Fortunately, you were mindful of your surroundings: people were quieting as they trickled in slower through the door where Professor Kang still waited, her one hand rubbing the face of her wristwatch.

“I would never let a guy get between our friendship,” she said instead of directly addressing the question.

“Not even Jeon Jungkook?”

She shook her head as Professor Kang shut the door and began toward the lectern. “Not even him,” she whispered.

Se-Eun could never get hold of the knowledge that you and Jungkook had once been engaged, you realized as soon as the professor began her lecture. It would mean the end of your relationship. Even though you were tempted to talk with her about you and Jungkook and the situation overall, you couldn’t.

During the rest of the school day, you surprised yourself by almost constantly thinking about Jungkook. Which ways you could help him, what type of reintroduction would most likely help him and so on and so forth. You looked back at your and Jungkook’s time as younger, when and how he would express himself regarding music. You even listened to Se-Eun’s obsessive rambling over the group, hoping you could snatch any type of idea or information that might be of use - which didn’t prove as fruitless as you initially had predicted. For example, you never knew Rap Monster, or rather, Kim Namjoon, was the reason Jungkook had chosen BigHit when he had numerous other options. By the end of last class, you had actually gotten somewhat of a battle plan against Jungkook’s amnesia. Though you seriously doubted anything less than a miracle would be absolutely crucial for you to succeed by May 30th, you were determined.

You were in good spirits by the time Jong-Yeol dropped you off outside what Kim Sejin had told you was BTS’ apartment. The sun had already sunken beneath the upraised, jagged horizon of other apartment buildings, and your breath was escaping in white wisps. Fortunately, you had had the foresight to dress properly - unlike when you darted out to see Jungkook at the hospital - so you weren’t feeling too uncomfortable. Still, even though most of the snow had melted, Seoul was a chilly city during the winter months.

The apartment Kim Sejin had given you the address to didn’t look any different from a typical, middle-class apartment building. But then, you were used to living very affluently and had no idea if this was considered a good buy or not. Jong-Yeol had been unwilling to let you walk around all on your own, forcing you to remind him you weren’t seven years old any longer. Perhaps he had meant that the neighborhood wasn’t the best.

You were too nervous to call any of the six new contacts in your phone, so you stalled a bit by trying to find out where seven guys could live by checking the mailboxes in the entrance hall. However, none of the names stuck out as particularly “largest K-pop group in Korea”-esque, and you understood to your dismay that you would have to call one of them.

You were just about to dial Kim Seokjin - since he was the only one you had managed to fully identify on your own, he felt the least awkward to talk to - when someone called you.

#MCAF #wrienne #ao3 #bts fanfiction #bts x reader