#As I was supposedly peacefully washing dishes

[13personalities]

do you ever have a time where you sit down and suddenly feel weirdly overwhelmed out of nowhere and a few seconds later you’re just sitting on the floor staring at your hands which are smeared with your tears and you just wonder why you’re crying for like no reason, or for some really small unimportant reason or is that just something weirdly insane that randomly happened to me? like I’m actually freaking out and I don’t know why I randomly started crying

[xmariiitamiiix]

A Fly caught in a Spider's Web: Suguru Geto x Reader: Chapter 2

Hey everyone here is the 2nd chapter (really just 2nd part but I will just call it chapter) for this fic

I really just kinda want to use this chapter to establish some of their rules that they follow while also adding a small part of tension but I promise next chapter is where we are going to really be building to get to the good stuff

You bend the blinds once more as your eyes scan the outside world below your small studio apartment on the third floor. Still, nothing but passersby walk the sidewalks, unaware of the day you had. The streetlights, along with the traffic lights, are the only things illuminating the street. You huff to yourself, jealous of the unbothered looks of the people living peacefully in their own little bubbles, unaware of the inner turmoil and fear that you felt just earlier today. They walk without turning and watching their backs, not fearful of a psychotic monk following after them.

You go back into the kitchen and take out your bowl of ramen noodles from the microwave, stirring it as you walk back into your bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you, just in case. You sit down at the edge of the bed, placing the bowl on your nightstand, as your hand runs against the small red marks on your body from earlier in the day. You look at one that was on your thigh as you begin thinking more and more.

These weren’t mosquito bites, were they? Your finger traces around the circular edge of the mark. This was something else... something sinister. You raise your head to look at your television, which is playing a random movie that you could care less about in the moment, as you go back to the ramblings of what Ume referred to as Geto-sama. But from lazy Google searches, you found his name to be Suguru Geto.

He was a man dedicated to helping those in need—at a price. You scoff once you read the part about helping, remembering the ugliness of his gaze on you. "What a weird way to say a money-hungry leech," you think. There were hundreds of Google reviews for him, praising his services.

“Came to Geto-sama because of feelings of being touched and deflowered in my sleep, and at every point of my day. After paying a rather ridiculous but worthwhile fee, Geto-sama was able to make me feel better in a flash!” One review read.

“I had feelings of being drained and tired. My shoulders and body ached. Eventually, I was desperate enough to search online and found forums talking about his service. What do you know? He was able to help me in a flash—he is truly something!” Another read.

Each review detailed the wonders that he supposedly performed. “Everyone is saying he is something miraculous,” you comment before looking over at your now somewhat cold ramen noodles. You reach for them and start eating mindlessly.

Feelings.

As you wash your dishes, you can’t help but feel strange, as if something is in your apartment with you. You turn your eyes, scanning the dark, vacant front room, finding nothing out of the ordinary. So, you turn back to washing your dishes, but the feeling persists as you scrub. Eventually, you sigh, walking into the living room. Once there, you turn on a lamp in the corner, then go back to washing the dishes. But merely turning on the lamp was a short-lived comfort, as eventually the strange feeling manifests again—this time toward the hallway leading to your bedroom. If there was any way to describe this feeling, it would be that sense of paranoia when you’re alone in the house for the first time, thinking about all the what-ifs.

You scrub faster, rinse faster, and dry the dishes with a towel faster so you don’t have to stand with your back to your apartment any longer. You place the last bowl down with a rather hard slam onto the counter, making yourself jolt as you inspect the bowl to make sure you didn’t break it.

"I have to relax," you say out loud. "I’m scaring myself." You turn off the kitchen light and head to the hallway, but despite yourself, your eyes loom over the hallway, looking for anything amiss. You enter your bedroom, pull out some clothing, and head into the bathroom. As you scrub yourself with soap in the shower, that’s when it begins.

Soft buzzing.

"Where is that coming from?" you ask as you turn down the water and look around. "What the fuck..." You turn up the water and resume washing your body. Your fingers glide against your skin, scrubbing all the contours and dips of it until it’s time for the shampoo. You place some shampoo onto your palm and rub it in with both hands, closing your eyes as the buzzing continues. This time, however, you feel something—a presence behind you—as your back starts to feel colder.

As you scrub in the shampoo, your mind starts conjuring images of a pale woman with long, stringy black hair that covers some of her face. She stares at you from behind with large, hollowed eyes, sunken into her face. The lips and eye bags are bruised purple, and her teeth chatter. A cold breeze hits your back, causing you to quickly wash the shampoo from your hair. You turn around, catching yourself before you fall, only to see nothing. Hesitantly, you reach for the conditioner bottle and start rubbing it into your hair. You close your eyes once more, trying to avoid getting soap bubbles in them, but the feeling of being watched from behind returns. You couldn’t have shampooed and conditioned your hair faster than you did that night—faster than ever in your whole life. As you finish showering, you dry off.

After drying off, you enter your bedroom, clothed in pajama shorts and a tank top. You sit in bed and go onto your phone. Your eyes linger on his name in your search bar for a little while before you return to mindless scrolling. Every once in a while, you look around your room. Everything looks untouched and exactly the way you left it, but still, you feel like you aren’t the only one in your apartment. You sit up from your bed and start walking around your apartment, checking each corner and drawer, even making sure the windows are locked—though you’re on the third floor. Finally, you ensure the door is locked. You never miss locking it. You return to your room and lie in bed, focusing on trying to go to sleep.

Silence.

The auditorium is silent as Geto walks through the aisle, but his mind and thoughts are loud as they race. His eyes stray to the very seat where you were once sitting. He takes a deep, shaky breath.

"Manami!" he yells out.

"Yes, sir," Manami says as she comes over.

Geto smiles. "Bring in the cleaners, will you?" he says.

"Why, of course," Manami says as she leaves. Cleaners begin to shuffle in one by one, all kneeling before him as he grimaces.

"Monkeys," he says as he walks past the cleaners, who part for him. "Recently, we had a very vile situation happen to us," he says, his lips curling with disgust. "Another one of you monkeys infiltrated my auditorium and tainted it with their lowly, disgusting presence." He turns and stands before them. "This auditorium needs to be cleansed of her presence, and while..." he pauses, his eyes scanning their faces, "I would rather not place this task on you all," he sneers, "I have no choice, as I would never wish for any of my family, who are truly worthy, to be on their knees scrubbing."

A cleaner steps forward. "So you're placing it on us, Geto-sama? Aren't we family too?"

His eyes narrow at them. "I am, and you are to do as you're told."

"But aren’t we your family as well? So why should we be—" Without a word, they are crushed by a cursed spirit.

"The audacity. Do you have any more questions?" he asks roughly, glaring at the group. Some cleaners let out gasps of surprise and fear, while those close to the crushed cleaner tremble, staring at their bloodied hands and clothing.

"Get to scrubbing," he says as he leaves the auditorium, flicking off a spatter of red fluid from the apple of his cheek. The cleaners immediately start scrubbing. "And don’t you dare ever forget your places, filth," his voice echoes in the auditorium.

Geto turns to Manami, who stands by the door frame outside the auditorium. "I will be changing into a new robe. Tell the family I’ll be in later," he says with a smile and light chuckle as he starts his walk to his chambers. Manami agrees and heads toward the dining hall. Geto closes the door and starts disrobing. He places his robe in the hamper for someone to wash, then dresses in another robe before heading to the dining hall, which is full of banter and the noise of his family.

"Hello, my family," he says, his ears perking at the greetings he receives. "Today we are joined together to enjoy another meal made by our kitchen staff." He sits at the head of the table. All eyes are on him as his gaze moves across the crowd, landing on Ume seated at the far end of the table. Unlike the others, she does not have a plate of food before her.

Geto sighs almost empathetically. "As some may notice, a member of our family does not have a plate of food," he says as the crowd shifts their attention to Ume. "I know it is not lost on any of us why she has no plate." The crowd murmurs in agreement.

"Let this be a lesson for everyone here," Geto says, looking at his plate. "This food is sacred and fuels you for the day. However, it is for the worthy and the most loyal to us." He pauses as the crowd rings out their own mantras of hate and disgust against non-sorcerers. "Now, let’s wish your fellow sister learns her lesson, so I don’t have to do this ever again." He frowns, and everyone goes silent in the dining room, giving their wishes.

"This may be hurting you," Geto says, breaking the silence, "but it hurts me more." Everyone looks to Geto at his saddened tone.

"We would never, Geto-sama!" another member says.

"Love to the strong, hate to the weak," someone else adds, referencing the scrolls. Geto’s eyes move to Ume, who is looking down at the table.

"Ume," Geto says, "why are you looking at the linen on the table? Shouldn’t your eyes be on the food?" he asks. Ume looks at him, then the food. "I said you couldn’t eat, not that you couldn’t look." Geto gives a light smile. "Maybe if you look hard enough, you’ll feel full." He chuckles, and the rest of the group mirrors his laughter toward Ume.

"Perhaps Geto-sama should remind you of when our quarters' sleeping time is," a member says to Ume, who bites back a sharp retort before replying.

"Our sleeping time is at 8:30 p.m.," Ume says.

Geto hums in approval. "And your wake time?"

"5:30 a.m.," Ume and the rest of the group reply in unison.

Geto nods. "And in the meantime, I expect things to be done, and that is...?"

"Beds to be made with new sheets and pillowcases, us to be changed into our clothing, mantras of the day done, and to be down for breakfast at 9:00 a.m.," Ume answers.

Geto nods in approval. "And if you are not following the right morning routine?"

"No breakfast," the crowd replies.

"And it’s only for?"

"Our own good," the crowd echoes.

"Very well, then," Geto says. "Let’s feast."

Maybe one day I will do my own little Suguru Geto Cult Rule Book lmaoooo

Did we ever get a name for the little group Geto has because I don't want to just have it as the Star Religious whatever but I want like a cool little cult name maybe I'll think one up for them something like "The Ascended Star Order"

[themoonispurple7]

We have been getting a lot of hints from Jikook lately and they all point in the same direction that they *cough (live together) cough*

1. Starting with the frequent car sharing( I thought they were just "leave work together mates" but they arrive as well as leave together for almost every shoot and event, the latest being the Pop Up house in Seoul).

2. Getting late for an important interview together( I mean, no other car was stuck in traffic and they were all supposedly coming from the same place, unless.....lol).

3. The whole "I was with Jungkook" at 4am on his birthday thingy.

4. "My favourite thing these days is waking up and seeing Jungkookie's face".

"I ride with him every morning and listen to him sing for 8 hours a day".

5. Jimin knowing and enacting how loudly Jungkook snores in ITS and how he imitated that Jungkook sleeps with his mouth open in the Lights mv behind the scenes.

6. Jimin knows Jungkook takes 50 minutes to complete his shower and that his alarm sound is that of a baby's cry.

7. Jungkook is Jimin's personal chef ( revealed by Jin. Bless him) and Jimin said that he is an expert in washing dishes in the Minimoni's dalgona coffee Vlive.

8. The way we got instances of them cuddling so peacefully as if it's second nature to them. ;_;

9. The Life Goes on mv basically shows us JK and JM in the same bedroom and they see each other the first thing in the morning.( Not to assume things but JK was basically the director of the MV and the whole point of this mv was to portray their real lives so.....🙃).

10. Them always stating that they are "all nighter friends" and their drunk playing at 3 am in ITS.

11. The blue bedroom Home performance where the lights were dimmed the moment the members left.👀

So idk but all of it sounds really sus 👁👄👁

(because normally "bros" don't know so much abt each other, unless....🙃)

Okay then Jikook we get it...

And ppl still have the audacity to say that all of this is fan service.

Wow, I’ve been trying to put together a list, but this is really detailed, thank you anon! I have absolutely nothing to add but - fanservice, shmanservice.

[vintyvanora]

||A Hard Decision||

So, I was trying to get back into writing and I thought “hey, why don’t you look up writing prompts?” Because I’m lazy and don’t want to think for myself. I found one that said, “write a scene or story that includes a character confronting the decision to make a big change in their life.” And I knew exactly what I wanted to write about. So I started and two days later I have this thing. 

I haven’t proofread it, I haven’t even really read it through start to finish. I just wrote. And I kinda liked it? It’s not perfect, it might not even be good, but hey. It got me writing and I was excited to finish it. So here. Have this almost obnoxiously long post about Vanora’s life. Letters, angst, and a bunch of First World Altus problems.

It’s early in the day when Vanora leaves her rooms. Although she had slept peacefully through the night she woke before sunrise. She had tried to fall back to sleep, curling up against Maretus under the blankets, but sleep eluded her. Carefully she’d slipped out of bed, Maretus still sleeping peacefully, and left the bedroom. For a while, she sat on the balcony, an embroidered dressing gown wrapped around one of Maretus’ tunics that she had worn to bed. It was early enough that the stars were still out, dimming slightly with the approach of dawn. The world was quiet, and for a while, she thought she might doze off on the chaise. Now, as the tiniest sliver of dawn begins to creep up to the horizon, she returns to her rooms to change into something more appropriate for the world beyond their suite. When she is finished dressing she peers back into the bedroom. Maretus is still fast asleep and she does her best to resist the urge to slip back into bed and try to sleep once again. Satisfied that her activities haven’t disturbed Maretus’ sleep she exits their suite and heads downstairs.

With dawn approaching, there are a few slaves roaming the halls, en route to the kitchens for breakfast or heading to start their tasks for the day. They acknowledge her with a bow as she passes through, headed for her formal study on the main floor of the estate. The room is dark when she arrives, the hints of sunrise not bright enough to illuminate the study. With a wave of her hand the candles light, bathing the room in a warm glow. There are letters stacked on her desk, a few stray ones near one of the comfortable reading chairs, and she sets to reading through those first. The first few letters are benign salutations welcoming her back to Tevinter. Nothing particularly exciting. Those are set aside to be discarded later. Towards the bottom of the small stack, however, is an invitation to tea from none other than Silvia.

Her reunion with Octavian, and Lavinia after him, had been a surprisingly emotional one. She had missed them terribly, but with so many things to do the longing for home and her friends had abated and faded into the background. It made her feel guilty not to think of them more, but she knows that they had not spent the last 10 years mourning her daily. Life went on and old hurts turned to aches. But when she’d finally seen them again the old hurt and the longing for her dearest friends hit her full force. Tears had not been expected, but there were plenty of them between the three of them.

Silvia, however, was another matter entirely.

They had never been particularly close. Silvia had been a part of their group of companions during their time in the Circle of Minrathos, but she had never been what Vanora would consider a friend. In all honesty, Silvia had been more of a burden to Vanora than anything else. It was a constant game with her. One day she was friendly, the next day she was gossiping about them. Vanora had learned early on not to trust her but always kept her near enough to keep an eye on.

Turning the letter over to look at the seals affixed, Vanora sets the invitation aside, separate from the pile of letters to be disposed of. She supposes that eventually, she’ll need to accept. It would be rude not to acknowledge Silvia. She was, after all, supposedly a friend. But for now, Vanora has no interest in entertaining the woman and dealing with feigned niceties and whatever mundane gossip she wished to share.

The sun has risen by the time she is finished reading through the pile of letters next to her armchair. Vanora blows out the candles and pulls open the curtains, allowing the sun to light the room. From her study, she can hear the voices of the slaves outside and the smell of baking bread in the kitchens wafting through the window. She expects that Julia will turn up soon with tea and something to eat once she discovers that Vanora had begun her day so early. Maretus too is bound to show up once he wakes up. It is, after all, a routine of theirs to check in with one another if the day has started early for one of them.

It is Julia who finds her first, and Vanora suspects that Maretus is still asleep, or only just getting ready for the day. Sure enough, she has breakfast in hand, a tray filled with food and tea for Vanora.

     “Good morning, domna,” she greets, the door closing behind her, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Vanora replies, moving her next stack of letters to the other side of the desk, “I woke early and thought it prudent to finish reading through my mail.”

Julia smiles, the gesture almost sarcastic, as if to say “of course you started working early.”

     “Don’t give me that look.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, domna.”

The tray is set down in the center of the desk, Julia gesturing to the food.

“The bread is fresh from the oven, so you better eat it while it’s still warm,” she informs Vanora, pouring a preemptive cup of tea.

“Shall I let the Captain of the Guard know where you are when he comes downstairs?”

Vanora settles into the chair at her desk and takes a sip of tea, one eyebrow raised at Julia’s question. The woman takes her meaning and laughs.

“Very well. Do let me know if you need anything else. I will return to take the dishes away when you finish.”

With a bow she heads from the room, leaving Vanora to her breakfast and letters. She isn’t alone for long, a knock on the door drawing her attention away from her tea.

     ��You know you don’t have to knock, love.”

The door opens, Maretus standing at the threshold with a hint of a smile on his lips. Vanora ushers him in, gesturing to one of the armchairs closest to the desk.

     “Julia brought breakfast. There’s an extra teacup for you.”

He sits down and pours himself a cup, eyeing the stack of letters at the corner of her desk.

     “Did you sleep well? I thought I heard you leaving before dawn.”

“I slept fine,” she assures him, tearing off a chunk of warm bread, “I woke early and couldn’t fall back to sleep, so I sat and watched the stars a while.”

     “And then decided to go downstairs do work?”

Vanora gives him a pointed look. They both know that he’d done the very same thing several times before. Why sit around and waste the day when you could get a head start on work and have more time to relax in the evening? He hides a guilty smile by taking a sip of tea. They chat while they eat, the tea finished off well before any of the food. Eventually, Maretus leaves to start his workday and Julia returns to take away the remnants of breakfast.

Alone once more, Vanora sets to work on the stack of letters waiting on her desk. They are, on the whole, somewhat more interesting than the letters she had read earlier in the morning. Only a few are set aside to be discarded, nothing more than a polite welcome home. The rest are invitations. Some to informal events, teas and the like, others are to larger formal events. A friend of Octavian is hosting a ball in a fortnight and she would hate to pass up a party of that scale.

Midway through her pile of letters she freezes, the familiar crest of House Valerius embossed into black wax. It was only a matter of time before Lucius managed to corner her into some social event. She had done all she could to dodge him in her first weeks back, a desperate attempt to avoid him leading to her first kiss with Maretus, but just like Silvia, she would need to deal with him sooner or later. And with his impatience and a well-concealed temper, it was better to deal with it sooner. Sighing, she sets it aside, unread, to deal with when she’s finished reading all her other letters.

Unfortunately, the next letter is no better than Lucius’. It takes a moment for Vanora to recognize the seal on the letter, that of House Darinus. When the seal finally registers in her mind, she leans back in her seat and stares at it. A quiet voice in the back of her mind whispers what she already knows what the letter is for, but she cannot bring herself to open it. Not yet.

So instead, she gets up from her desk and exits her study. The sun has fully risen now and the entire estate is awake and going about their day. Despite the hustle and bustle beyond Vanora’s study, the garden is quiet and peaceful. It’s too early for mid-day tea with Maretus, so he is doubtlessly hard at work doing...well, whatever it was he did on a daily basis. Writing reports or training or something of that ilk. For a while, she is completely alone, laying on a chaise in the sun, only just resisting the urge to fall asleep. The only thing that keeps her from dozing off is the threat of sunburn as it nears noontime. It would be a pity to have sunburnt skin with so many social engagements to attend.

Julia inevitably finds her in the garden with another tray of tea and fruit in hand. Setting the tray down on the nearest table, she sets to work pouring tea.

“Don’t you have something more interesting to do than track me down with tea?” Vanora asks, one brow arched as she straightens up in the chaise.

“You’re right...it would be much more interesting to wash that gown of yours from high tea with Lavinia yesterday.”

Her tone is sarcastic, she and Felix the only subordinates in the household that would dare talk like that to one of the Tiberius’, but Vanora laughs.

“A fair point. Why don’t you sit and have some tea with me? I’m tired of reading letters and invitations.”

“Such a burden you bear,” Julia teases, sitting down near Vanora, “I’ll sit a moment, but I do have to deal with that gown. Anyone else might ruin it.”

They chat for a few minutes before Julia leaves, Vanora alone in the gardens once more. She isn’t disturbed again until after the tea has gone cold. One of the slaves approaches her with a deep bow.

“Forgive the intrusion domna Tiberius,” he says, eyes cast downwards, “but the Captain of the Guard wished me to inform you that he has been held up by work and requests you do not wait for him to eat.”

It isn’t entirely surprising to hear that Maretus has gotten caught up in work, it’s happened to her plenty of times, but it means that she really should head back to her study and finish up her tasks before evening falls. Thanking the slave and sending him away, Vanora departs the gardens.

When she returns to her study she heads straight for her desk and the letters left unopened from that morning. The letter from Lucius begins as a welcome home but quickly turns into thinly veiled irritation that they have yet to spend time together. He has the decency to at least mention that he is married before inviting her to lunch with him at the Valerius estate. The response she writes out is polite, if not a little brief. An apology that she has been so terribly busy and not able to meet with everyone, followed by an acceptance of his invitation and a pointed declaration of how she is looking forward to meeting his lovely wife. Knowing Lucius, Vanora suspects that his wife will conveniently be away that afternoon. People could certainly change, but nobody changed that much.

With Lucius’ letter written and sealed Vanora can no longer avoid the correspondence from House Darinus. Taking a deep breath she breaks the seal and opens it up. It is, predictably, from Magnus, an Altus and magister, as well as the head of House Darinus. Theirs was an ancient house, older even than those of her friends. They could trace their ancestry back to the formal founding of the Tevinter Imperium. Even Lucius couldn’t deny the power and influence of their house. So when Aurelia had reached out to as many single men from worthy houses as possible Vanora had been shocked when Magnus had responded and come to the Tiberius estate.

There had been several men, or suitors as her mother like to call them, who had visited the Tiberius estate in the weeks following Vanora’s return. Though it had been awkward initially, knowing that Maretus was very likely not too far away and knew full well what Aurelia’s intentions were, it had turned into a source of amusement for the two of them. Maretus found the suitors’ peacocking distasteful but was equally prone to laugh at them with Vanora once they’d left.

She was grateful that on the day Magnus had come to visit Maretus had been too busy to see her until night had fallen and she was in bed. Even now she isn’t entirely sure what to make of the man. He is the epitome of what a Tevinter Altus should be, calm and composed, holding himself as if he owned the world. In some ways he did. There’s something beautiful about him with his high cheekbones and full lips, a far cry from the rugged handsomeness of Maretus. She decides later on, once he’s gone, that he is beautiful. Smooth skin, features that are somehow both masculine and feminine, and long, ink-black hair pulled out of his face with golden combs. It’s almost alarming.

The afternoon he had visited was mundane enough. They exchanged pleasantries over tea, Marcus even turning up to greet the young man. Aurelia had managed to, of course, slip in a few subtle references to marriage, which both Magnus and Vanora had both ignore. Though her mother was driven to get her married, Vanora found the whole ordeal rather distasteful. It made her feel more like a slave for sale in the markets than anything else.

Still, it had gone well enough that he had visited again a few days later, Aurelia conveniently forgetting she had plans and leaving the two of them alone. Despite feeling vaguely uncomfortable with the situation having her mother out of the picture proved to be something of a blessing. The conversation felt less restricted and overly polite. And then he’d brought up the topic of marriage. Vanora thought she’d be ill just thinking about it, but she’d smiled and answered his questions. The conversation turned to a different topic quickly and Vanora put the discomfort to rest.

But now he’s sent her a letter and based solely on appearance it looks like a long one. With her stomach in anxious knots and a heart heavy with no small measure of dread, she opens the letter. It is two pages long, front and back, written in immaculate, flowing script. Before she reads anything else she flips to the end, double-checking that it is in fact from Magnus and not some other member of House Darinus. Of course, it is and so, with a sigh, she starts reading.

Admittedly, it isn’t quite what she’d expected. Although it isn’t exactly a proposal it’s clear that he is inclined to marry her. Vanora’s stomach churns at the very sudden realness of the situation she finds herself in. It was all well and good to talk about the expectation of marriage, but it is another thing entirely to find herself in the thick of an almost-proposal. At the very least there is absolutely no talk of love or feelings, just the language of a business deal made between two powerful Altus.

She almost can’t believe it, that someone from such an ancient and powerful family would actually think of marrying her. Not that she was by any means unworthy but after a decades-long absence it made sense for people to be wary of how capable she was. And yet here she is, alone in her study with an almost-proposal sitting in front of her. At first, all she can do is stare at the letter, brain processing what exactly she’s just read. It’s surreal, and she almost pinches herself to make sure this isn’t some strange dream.

A hundred questions are swimming through her head. What would he expect of her if she did marry him? Beautiful as he is it still makes Vanora nauseous to think about consummating their marriage and having his children. Which is, of course, what would be expected. It was the entire point of marriage. Political alliances and perfect children.

It would get her family to leave her alone, to free her from the near-constant nagging of her mother. The fact that he was so powerful, so influential in society and politics, would instantly make reclaiming her station in life much easier. Nobody would dare turn away or snub the wife of Magnus Darinus. Every door would be open to her with a few simple words. If she was being brutally honest, there were a hundred reasons why she should marry him. Ten years ago it would have been a non-issue, she would have said yes immediately.

But now things are different.

At the end of the day, even with a hundred reasons to marry Magnus, there is one reason not to.

Maretus.

If their roles were reversed, if he married someone else, even if there were no feelings involved...well, Vanora would certainly be crestfallen at best. It already has to be hard, spending their spare time with one another, sharing her suite, and then pretending not to be romantically involved outside the estate.

     What if he left?

The thought sends a lance right through her heart and she drops her head into her hands. What if this engagement, this eventual marriage, political or otherwise, was the last straw. Maretus was resilient, level headed, logical. Things never seemed to get to him easily, but this very well might. Would he feel betrayed? Angry? Sad? Disgusted? Maybe it would prove to him just how far people in power would go to maintain that power. He’s always known that she intended to come back, to take back her place in Tevinter society and replace her father as a magister. But he’s never had a particularly favorable view of Altus, of the lengths they go to in order to climb the social ladder. He might have been able to get past those feelings with her, probably solely because he’d gotten to know her so far from home, but marrying someone solely for political gain and respite from her family might push him over the edge. Maybe it would prove to him that she wasn’t actually any different from people like Lucius, willing to do whatever it took to get what she wanted.

Maybe it would be just enough to make him stop loving her.

A lump forms in her throat and she can feel the telltale sting of tears in her eyes. Vanora takes a shaky breath and straightens up. She stares up at the ceiling, blinking several times until the feeling passes. Despite the fact that it would be much easier to force down all the feelings that have bubbled up due to the simple letter on her desk she resists. For once in her life she lets herself feel the anxiety, the sadness, the guilt.

Because, ultimately, she already knows what she has to do, what she’s going to do.

And so, heart heavy with all her fears, she picks up her quill and starts to write.

[shirewalker]

alarkling + 30 ≧ω≦

I haven’t proof-read this and I’m sick so I won’t do it because I won’t do anything lol but here ya go! :D I was a bit tricky but I hope you like it ;3

Rated T for suggestive stuff ;)

+ “You can call me whenever you want… Even if you don’t have a reason to.”

Alina watched snow lazily flutter to the ground, thankful for the builtof this house that kept the cold outside. She loved snow. She enjoyed coldweather quite a lot as well. But she also loved to cosy up under a thickblanket, sitting by the fireplace and watching winter unfold through a window.

It was one of the few pleasures of life she could still enjoy withoutworrying for her safety.

“All phone calls and uses of internet are to be done through theanonymous lines, Alina.” Aleksander Morozova, her handler, said from the deskas he finished setting up a laptop. He shut the lid and walked to the fireplaceto feed it another log. “Remember that, always.”

She nodded, a bit annoyed that her cosy fantasy had been invaded by thefact that she was supposed to be a ghost now. Her studies on solar energy hadraised the alarms in several high-profile and secret companies, all of whichwanted nothing more than to shut her down. She had found a way to harness solarpower in easy and cheap ways that would allow anyone in the world to survivejust by building their own solar panels and using a basic, general store boughtbattery. No one would have thought her study to be enemy-worthy, but soon Alinafound out that a few men out there were out to get her. Her situation only gotworse when she overheard a discussion on how to remove for good her and otherscientists that were also pro-renewable energy.

“Alina?” His smooth cool voice called.

Alina nodded once more, “I know. You parroted that to me at least tentimes in the last ten minutes. No phone calls unless it’s through youruntraceable phone and no internet unless it’s through that fancy laptop ofyours. And even then, I really shouldn’t contact anyone at all.” She cut him aglare, “I can’t call anyone. I can’t rant about having a bad day or ask how myfriends’ day was. I can’t do anything but hole up in here and hope your spiesfind enough evidence to put away all those goons and assassins that killed halfmy colleagues and are out to get me and the rest of the team.”

Agent Morozova set his jaw and looked away, “I know this is a toughsituation, Alina, but it’s the only way to keep you and your work alive.”

She scoffed and looked back at the wintry scenery as it slowly turnedwhite. It wouldn’t be fully covered until the next day, but did she haveanything better to do? “It’s always that, isn’t it? So long the work is safe,the people involved don’t really matter.”

“Stop that.” Agent Morozova uttered, his tone harsh, “Stop wallowing inyour misery. Your work is important just as much as you are. Even more. Withoutyou, it wouldn’t even exist.”

Alina kept her gaze on the falling snow, “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”She got up and walked to her room, tiny but with enough space for a scientistwith a love for arts to spend her free time. And Alina had plenty now…

A knock startled her away from her open and empty sketchbook. They’dbeen there for a week now and she had yet to put a pencil to its blank pages.“What?” She shot at the door.

Morozova’s voice came through, muffled by the thick wood, “I want you toknow that… You can call me. Whenever you need. Even if you don’t have anyreason to.”

Alina swallowed down a bitter remark, startled by the softness of hiswords, “Thank you…”

A pause, “Goodnight, Alina.”

–

Two months had passed since being assigned to this desolate location.Two months of being Anya Kuya during the rare outings she did with AgentMorozova to the nearest town. Two months of knowing nothing of her real life.

Two months of living in close quarters with a man that was nothing shortof handsome.

Alina’s bitterness over her situation had dwindled to just a few baddays once in a while. Every other day was either a blur in her memory or a daywhen she succeeded in doing some sketches or working on her project. Of course,with nothing else but what she remembered doing, the moments she spent workingon her project were… not as many as she’d liked.  And then there was Aleksander Morozova.

The man was supposedly the superior in whatever team had been in chargeof extracting and protecting her team. He had no business in simple witnessprotection. But he was here with her nevertheless. During the two months they’dbeen in this little house, Alina had grown to know him a little better. He wasrarely moody, but he was also rarely in a happy, all smiles mood. In fact, shehad yet to see him smile. Or saints forbid, laugh. He also enjoyed reading asmuch as she did. Half the content of the baggage he picked up from a secretlocation on their way here was full of books. Many were titles and genres sheenjoyed – which begged the question on how they knew this – and many othersended up being his. Blini was his preferred breakfast idea, which meant thatevery morning Alina would wake up to the smell of fresh blini, ready to beeaten.

He had a sweet tooth.

Alina discovered this during their first trip to the nearest town. She’dbeen dying to buy some cookies and had expected her protector to gloomthroughout the entire time she spent in the bakery picking all the sweets thatcaught her eye. Instead, Aleksander Morozova had helped with her choices. Hehad even insisted on purchasing a batch specifically for the ride home. Whichwas eaten mostly by him, witnessed by Alina’s own eyes.

Oh, and then there was the minor factor that he was probably the humanform of a Greek god. Hades, perhaps. Since he enjoyed black so much, was alwaysvery sombre but had a love for sweets and pops of colour here and there. Ascarf, an undershirt, socks. Well, what she always liked to think of Hadesanyway. Not that she had ever wondered if such god happened to have well-tonedmuscles under his robes. But Aleksander Morozova had made her wonder suchthing. And given her plenty of chances to gather facts.

Two months had passed. And Alina was very much attracted to agentMorozova.

–

White covered the sights until Alina couldn’t see anything else. Andoutside, Aleksander Morozova gathered more wood for their fireplace.

Alina bit her lip, already anticipating the moment he would walk in,sweat beading down his temples, only his undershirt covering his torso. Aftersetting down the logs, he would announce to need a quick shower and move to thebathroom. And Alina would steal a glance as he took off his shirt right beforeclosing the door behind him. This would be sweet fuel for her dreams later thatnight. Sweet, sweet fuel.

Just on cue, agent Morozova walked in, a pile of logs in his arms. Heshook his head and snow drifted off of him, “We should gather more tomorrowafter lunch. There’s a storm coming and we really don’t need wet wood.” He setdown the logs and took a deep breath.

I need a shower.

Alina could already hear those sweet words.

“I need a shower,” She barely could contain herself as he uttered thosewords, though she did keep her best poker face on. “But…” He hesitated, “Ialready had one this morning, we should save water.”

Alina almost cried foul at this. No shower? No sight of her protector’swonderful body? How was she supposed to sleep peacefully that night?

“Are you sure, agent? A quick shower won’t hurt.” She offered asnonchalantly as possible. She even went as far as to turn the page of her bookand yawn a bit.

Morozova chuckled, the sound send shivers tricking down her spine.“Please, Alina… Call me Aleksander. We’ve been here long enough to be on afirst name basis.”

She licked her lips once, “Okay… Aleksander.”

Aleksander visibly trembled at the sound. And for the first time Alinawondered if maybe, just maybe, he happened to be as attracted to her as she wasto him.

He walked towards her, stopping just a step away. Alina looked up andstared into those magnetic silver eyes. A maelstrom of emotions battled in hiseyes. Aleksander seemed to be at war with himself. But over what?

“Alina…” He rasped and she parted her lips in surprise. This was new. Anew and unexpected sound. And one that was far too… intimate for a casualconversation. Immediately, she was thrown into a fantasy of the two of themtangled in each other’s arms. Naked, breathless, bodies hot and thrumming withpent up desire. A moment passed in silence, Aleksander staring into her eyes,Alina waiting for his next words.

But then he shook his head and turned away, almost running back to hisroom. Leaving behind a breathless and very turned on Alina.

–

Two weeks had passed since that charged moment. And not a day, not anhour had passed without that charge being present. Every good morning seemed tohave something else dangling on it. Every stack of blini seemed to be an invitationto talk about that night. Every accidental touch was almost enough to killAlina on the spot.

And every time Aleksander went to take care of firewood… The tension wasgrowing too heavy. Alina needed a release soon or she would combust.

Another storm had hit their house. Winter was relentless this high upnorth. White surrounded them every day and Alina had yet to grow tired of thescenery. It offered a kind of peace and quiet that she hadn’t tasted yet. Andshe liked it. It almost made her situation not as crazy as it was.

Speaking of crazy…

It was two in the afternoon. And Alina was reading a book. Or rather,reading the same page for the tenth time in a row. Lunch had been a close call,with Aleksander’s hands brushing hers as she handled him their dishes. She’dlingered longer than needed and Aleksander had breathed her name in that waythat always had her eyes rolled in their sockets. The moment had been growingand growing… Until Aleksander looked away and continued washing the dishes.

Now they sat in the living room, each busy pretending nothing hadhappened.

It was getting crazy. This game of theirs. And it was unbearable, sounbearable that some days all Alina wanted to do was sit on Aleksander’s lapand make him face what was happening between the two.

She shut her book with a loud thud and stood up, “I can’t stand this.I’m going to my room.”

Aleksander looked up, startled with her bluntness, “What?”

“I said, I’m going to my room.” She was halfway to her door when a handcaught her elbow and twisted her back into Aleksander’s chest. She let out agasp as her body collided with his.

Aleksander looked down into her eyes, breathing heavily. He parted hislips, but it took him a long moment before uttering any sound, “Did I hurtyou?” She shook her head, mute with surprise, “Tell me.”

Two words. Just two words. Alina didn’t need any more to know what hemeant, “We’ve been here for weeks, months, spending time with no one else buteach other. There’s something between us and you keep evading it, making a foolout of me because of that!”

“Wanting makes fools out of us. Makes us weak.”

She grabbed handfuls of his shirt and hissed, “Then let’s be weak. Isthere anything else to do? We’re stuck here together. I want to be weak. I wantyou!” Aleksander held his silence, though Alina could feel the way he trembledunder her touch. His resolve was only this strong if she kept at bay. And todayshe was tired of doing just that. “You said I could call you whenever I wanted…Well, I’m calling you now, Aleksander.”

An earthquake took over his body, building up slowly until even his eyesseemed to shake with how hard he held himself back. Aleksander wanted herterribly and yet he held back. Alina took a bold move and pressed forward,closing the space between them.

“I’m calling you…” She whispered.

Aleksander swallowed down, his head bent towards her. Alina held herbreath as he slowly bent forward, his face growing closer with each heartbeatthat passed between them. Her eyes fluttered closed when his lips were just abreath away from hers, but a moment passed and she had yet to feel him.

His breath was scalding hot against the hollow below her ear, “Wantingmakes us weak…” He brushed his lips across her skin and Alina shudderedvisibly, holding fast to his shirt as her knees threatened to give in,“Wanting…” He kissed her jaw, “Makes us…” He pressed another kiss further alongher jaw, “So very…” His lips were on the corner of her thirsty mouth, “Weak.”And then he kissed her.

Alina dove into the kiss with weeks-worth of pent up desire. Hungry,thirsty, desperate to taste Aleksander. She met each pull and press and tug ofhis with her own pulls and presses and tugs and it still wasn’t enough. Hishands were deep in her hair, and she pulled hard on his. And still it wasn’tenough.

Aleksander pressed her against the wall and Alina let out a moan, hiships hard against hers. He picked her up in one swift movement. She locked herlegs around his waist. And it was almost enough.

“I want you so badly…” She moaned into the kiss, breaking apart just alittle, just to gather some air before quickly diving back in. Saints,Aleksander tasted like heaven laced with sinful activities.

His reply was a roll of his hips, silently showing her how badly he wanted her. Alina smiled, her lipsswollen but still hungry. Yes. Delicious. What a night they would have. What anight… “Alina…” Aleksander breathed against her lips, a hand snaking under hersweater and the layers under it.

She nodded, desperate for everything he had to offer, “Yes, please… Iwant you, all of you…” She arched her back as he played with her bra, “Make mescream… Make me scream your name…”

Aleksander unhooked her bra and nuzzled his face against her pulse. Amoment later he was teasing her skin, making Alina gasp for air and dig hernails deep into his scalp. “Scream my name? That sounds… interesting.”

He took her to her room.

And Alina did indeed scream his name. Several times.

[pelionhigh]

Starcrossed lovers Pt.1 (?)

„Welcome home, gorgeous.“, with those words he pulled her into his arms and straight into a deep, intoxicating kiss. She barely managed to get out of her shoes and close the door before Lotor reached out. It had been two weeks of pure bliss so far. Lotor’s kisses always left her weak, but it made no difference, because he held her tight to his chest and he loved to make out on the sofa, so she could lay on top of him and his hands were free to roam and explore all the curves he became so very fond of over and over again.

Usually she just gave in, refusing to think about what tomorrow might bring. But tonight was different. Taking a bracing breath between kisses she locked eyes with him. “We need to talk.” Lotor met her gaze head on. “What is it?” There was no concern in his voice. He was too confident to believe it had something to do with circumstances being what they were between them. “Did you watch the news today?” Her question made him frown. “Should I have?” “I guess so.” The remote was within reach and she turned on a news channel for outer space issues. “… not been seen since. The Paladin are adamant to find Emperor Lotor as soon as possible. It seems that various Galra opposed to their Emperor are already gathering forces to try and enthrone a new ruler, favorably a full-blood Galra from their own ranks. Emperor Lotor is only half Galra and was thus never fully supported by the entirety of the Galra race. Right now the Paladin ¾” Lotor had turned off the TV. His face was stern, hard even. He stared into space and closing her eyes she let her head drop on his chest, thinking about the day she met him.

Work had been the same as usual, nothing special, no drama. She was looking forward to going home after stopping by at the supermarket, where she had bought some treats to spoil herself. Thinking about how she’d enjoy a glass of wine while soaking in the bathtub made her sigh in anticipation. It’s just been a few moments and the hot water had just begun to ease up her muscles when there suddenly was a rumbling sound coming from her balcony. “Probably just the neighbor’s cat tipping over my plants again”, she thought to herself. Just when she went out later to check, it wasn’t a cat she found on her balcony. It was a rather tall, purple-skinned and silver-haired male with pointy ears and small fangs. He lay there unconscious and she was at a total loss of what to do. Call the police? An ambulance? Ignore him and hope he’d be gone the same way he came? Instead she stepped out to see if he was still alive. His breast lifted slightly and she felt a pulse on his throat. When she took her hand away he moaned all of a sudden and on impulse she jumped back inside, ready to shut the door. Breathing hard he sat up, holding his head in his hands, obviously in pain. When he opened his eyes and saw her, surprise took over and pain forgotten he looked around quickly before addressing her. “Who are you? Where am I? What is this place?” Before she was able to answer he moaned again loudly, grasping his head once again in agony. Without delay she stepped out, grabbing him by his shoulders to make him stand up and come inside, where she had him sit down on the sofa. From the kitchen she got some water and looking at him sitting there it hit her that this was Emperor Lotor of the Galra Empire. He had just been visiting earth as part of his mission to bring peace to the Universe and was seeking out her home planet in order to make more allies. It had been all over the news and two days ago he had left ¾ at least supposedly so. Knowing who she was dealing with, she felt nervous all of a sudden. “Excuse me, Imperial Majesty, I’ve brought some water.” Remembering the correct way to address an emperor from all the newscasts gave her some sense of being grounded, but the confused look she received in return threw her off balance easily. “Imperial Majesty?” In answer she couldn’t help but blurt out, “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but I think that is the correct way to speak to an emperor..?”. “Emperor? Who are you and where am I?” “I’m Y/N, and your Imperial Majesty is currently in my apartment, which is located on planet earth.” She felt like a total moron to talk like this. “Earth… You call me Imperial Majesty, but… who am I?”. “What?” Now it was her turn to be stunned. As it turned out he had lost all his memories. Only vague images and traces of emotion were left. So she told him all she could remember about him from the news. He seemed reluctant to believe it and didn’t want her to call any authorities. “If what you say is true and I am Emperor Lotor, then there must be a reason for why I lost all memories and me somehow ending up on your balcony. It could be dangerous for me to show myself at this point. I know I’m asking for a lot, but please, allow me to stay.” I’m so screwed, was all she was able to think when he looked at her with this earnest look in his eyes. He was honestly pleading with her and of course she couldn’t deny him. So she showed him around her small queendom, where everything was exactly as she wanted it to be and where no man had ever lived with her before permanently. “Well, that’s it. It’s not much, but it’s my home and I love it very much. I hope your Imperial Majesty won’t feel too confined.” She had gathered back her confidence, taking the reins. This was her home, her castle. Her rules. He was a guest who had come under the most dubious circumstances and she hadn’t made up your mind about what to do from here on yet, but then she was always exceeding at going with the flow and trusting her instincts, which told her right now to do as he asked. “Thank you Y/N, I appreciate it very much. And please call me Lotor. I have no recollection of being Emperor and I think we can save any formalities. I am intruding after all, but I want you to be as much at ease as possible.” The tenderness in his eyes and voice made her feel like she was melting. “Don’t mention it, I’m glad to be of help. Lotor.” She added his name with a smile and when he gave a smile in return the world stopped for a moment. It was terribly easy to slip into a new routine. He had insisted on sleeping on the sofa, which could be turned into a bed, but it was ways too small for him, but then even the bed wouldn’t have been sufficient for his tall frame. In the mornings she woke up, making breakfast for both of them before heading out to work. Lotor didn’t know how to cook, so she stocked up on instant food and showed him how to prepare a few simple things like sandwiches or pasta so he could make himself lunch while she was at work. When she came home in the evenings, Lotor was usually sitting in front of the laptop, surfing the internet and trying to figure out what had happened. Seeing all the evidence of what she had told him, made him believe, but he still couldn’t remember anything. On the third day she suggested over dinner “Why don’t we call the authorities? I’m sure they can help…” but before she had a chance to speak further Lotor interrupted, “There have been no news of Emperor Lotor being missing. That’s strange if I really am the true Emperor. Something must have happened, or do such news travel that slowly to earth?” With a sinking feeling you answered, “No, Emperor Lotor being missing would be very serious and big news in the entire Universe, especially on earth, since you had just left the planet. At least according to the news.” She looked down on your plate, when Lotor took her hand. “I’m truly sorry for imposing on you. I shall leave if you wish so. Just say a word and I’ll be gone.” “No!” She grabbed his hand tight in response. “No, I don’t mean to say that you should leave. You’re not imposing! But I feel that something must be terribly wrong and I don’t think that we will be able to get anywhere on our own here…”. Her voice trailed off and Lotor gave a sad smile. “I think you are right, but I also feel that I need a little more time. Will you grant me that?” His hand had started to gently stroke hers and all she could do was nod in response. “Thank you.” he said with a squeeze of her hand. “I shall take care of the dishes now.” With those words he stood up and started to clean the table and wash the dishes. It was a simple rule they had established right away. Whoever cooked was not to be in charge of cleaning the dishes, so since the cooking fell on her, the cleaning part was his duty. When she had brought it up he seemed slightly perplexed, but once he knew how to do it, he immediately agreed to the task. Generally he seemed very eager to learn about all earth’s customs and habits and kept asking lots of questions. After dinner they spent the evenings on the sofa, either watching TV, or her reading, while Lotor kept on researching all kinds of things about earth and its cultures. Sometimes he’d show her something that caught his interest and ask her opinion on it. Talking to him was so effortless, Lotor was an incredible listener, but an even more stunning speaker. Sometimes she wished he’d never stop talking, he was so eloquent and smart that it was heavenly to follow his voice. On Friday night they talked well into the wee hours and she fell asleep next to Lotor without realizing it. She slept so peacefully. He couldn’t bear the thought of waking her up. Instead he felt a sudden possessiveness coming over him, a strong urge to protect her at all costs. He wanted to embrace her, hold her and make sure that she was safe. But then there was no threat, was there? He honestly couldn’t tell. All she told him was in accordance with what he had read in the internet, all the pictures and videos were showing a male exactly looking and speaking like him. But he had no recollections of his past. There was only her and it felt so natural to be with her. He had no wish to leave at all. Instead he finally gave in to the desire to touch her. Holding her hand the other evening had made him crave so much more of her touch, but he didn’t dare until now. Right now she looked so vulnerable, all her guards down, only for him to see. Carefully he cupped her cheeks and brought their foreheads together, slightly stroking her nose with my own. She made a small sound, which immediately made him feel incredibly aroused, while he feared at the same time that she’d wake up, but although she melted into his touch, she didn’t. Emboldened he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in his lap, where she fit perfectly. As if she was made for being in his arms. He closed his eyes and drifted off.

Since Lotor came into her life she found herself fantasizing about him now and then. He was just so handsome and smart, how could she not. Once she even dreamed of him and how they gave into their primal urges and when she woke up she felt herself still throbbing and wet, but didn’t dare touch herself, knowing that Lotor slept just a few meters away in the other room, although the thought turned her on quite a lot too. Now she seemed to be in another kind of dream again, feeling his arms tightly wrapped around her. She snuggled deeper into his embrace, rubbing herself lusciously against him. In response she got a grumble from the depth of his throat and something very impressive started to rise against her thigh. She couldn’t hold back a moan, when Lotor pulled her even closer to him, suddenly biting her neck. The slight pain of his fangs entering her flesh made her realize that this wasn’t a dream, but very real. She closed her eyes and relished the feeling of Lotors embrace and his fangs at her pulse and couldn’t help but rub herself more against him. In an instant he turned them around, so she was pinned beneath him.

[please imagine the most amazing piece of smut to be written here]

From that day on they were inseparable. Lotor was always close, seeking her touch, caressing her and most of all he came to be a big fan of kissing. There were a few moments in which she asked herself where this might lead, but in the end she never thought it through. Life was now and now it felt as good as never before.

Until she checked the news on the way home this night and Lotor was reported to not having been seen since he left earth two weeks prior. It was time to return to reality. With a sinking feeling she arrived, Lotor greeted her as passionate as ever and for a few more moments she gave in and left it behind. But tonight was different after all. “We need to talk.”

After Lotor had turned off the TV everything fell silent. All she could hear was the strong beat of his heart beneath her ear.

[danjaley]

More Replies

Good question, Mira :( *sniff*

Emotionally, I‘m totally with Mira here, though I can also comprehend Ulva’s point of view.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “U: We already had the pleasure… Though I might have spoken a bit...”

What amorbid way of looking at it Mira! So sad - and also, did the raven dying kill Ulva?

I’d rather say it’s the other way round. I think Raven has a special connection with Grim Reaper, as he’s a death-themed dragon. After all he arranged for Ulva to become mysteriously pregnant. And the way the sequence of events turned out, it’s possible he allowed her to die peacefully rather than face a challenge she felt not equal to (you’re right, it’s getting ever more morbid!). Anyway, Raven just went with Grim and Ulva (supposedly in her inventory). On a technical level, it annoys me literally to no end that EA gave no thought to ending a dragon’s time with the family. They can’t even be sold!

acquiresimoleons replied to your photoset “Grim: Excuse me… Would you kindly step aside… Mira: I certainly won’t....”

Aww its all so sad

:( Ulva’s generation turned out more depressing than I thought. acquiresimoleons replied to your photo “U: We already had the pleasure… Though I might have spoken a bit...”

Say hi to daddy!

After all, Grim is practically family...

declarations-of-drama replied to your photoset  “J: Those pancakes are delicious! Let me wash the dishes, I can at...”

She has to go with him now. But maybe he will stay and not leave?

And there’s still this curse on him...

[kampa77-blog]

No one knows what tomorrow will bring, let alone what impacts today will have on tomorrow.  We, everyone and everything on this planet we ride on, are embroiled in the universes greatest experiment.  The very fact we, or anything exists on this planet is a result of a series of completely random events that have developed into what we call “the world” as we know it now.  But, this “world” is definitely not the same “world” we knew yesterday, and it wont be the same tomorrow.

Just a few years ago we passed the threshold of 400 parts per million particles of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, this is up from the mid 1800’s where the atmosphere contained just 280 parts per million.   This is a raise of 40% since the “Industrial Era”.  The reaction of the earths atmosphere as a result of this is what science is calling “The Green House Effect”.   Supposedly this is causing the atmosphere to heat up as a result, causing the weather channel to resemble something of a horror show !!.

Lets go back to the Industrial Era.  An era where factories, creating machines designed to make life easier, work less laborious and more output more efficient, spewed tonnes of carbon into the atmosphere.  People got sick, land got polluted and through the convection of heated air, pollution spread across the globe, through the oceans and eventually popped up on a dinner plate in the Salmon Johnny Adams just ate for dinner.  In all its glory, science is trying to show us something.  To teach us that every action has opposite reaction, sometimes though, this reaction isn’t as equal as we’d like to believe it should be.  Just now are we beginning to realise the effects of what we did 60 – 80 years ago.   We didn’t know back then.

I remember seeing adverts stating that “More doctors smoke Camels….” & “It’s just what the doctor ordered”.  Try telling people 60 years ago that smoking cigarettes would give them cancer.  The smoking experiment eventually showed us that nicotine and tar inhaled through a filter caused cancerous cells to make us unwell and eventually die.

How safe do you feel now, smearing sunscreen over yourself before heading out into the sun.  We really have no idea of the long-term effects of using sunscreen, it hasn’t been around long enough.  How about supplementing sugar with Equal, Stevia or one of a handful of chemical substitutes ?.  Butter comes from milk, but Margarine,  which is supposed to be just one ingredient away from plastic and has added coloring to turn it from its natural color of Gray to Yellow.  Whats that doing to us ?? Maybe in 20 years we’ll find out. !!

What I’m getting at is this.  No-one knows the results of anything.  We can guess, which is exactly what science is;  the best informed and educated prediction about something we can’t be 100% certain of.

Scientists usually have varying opinions on everything, but there’s one thing every scientist can agree on, and that is that our atmosphere has changed.  What this means is that every scientific model that’s ever been developed is obsolete.  They have no idea whats going to happen next !!  Weather reporting and predictions is now more than ever, a “just run with it and see what happens” type system.  We can see what coming a few days out, but beyond that is anyone’s guess.  With the development and advancement of technology, wouldn’t you believe that we should be able to predict what’s coming two or maybe three weeks away !?

Fracking has become a huge topic for environmentalists.  Fracking is where drilling occurs and high pressure water (among other chemicals) is forced into coal seams to force out gas, used in industry.   The long-term effects on the climate is unknown.  Fracking has been blamed for earthquakes,  flammable gas found present in towns drinking water supplies, and disastrous biological and ecological effects across hundreds of thousands of acres of land.   No-one can say with any determination what the long term effects of fracking will be.  Just like no-one can say what the long term effects of coal mining,  oil drilling or even tapping into the underground aquifers will be.   We just pushing ahead with hope that what we are doing now isn’t going to have to much of an effect on tomorrow.

Funnily enough, the knee jerk reactions of mankind see’s groups such as WWF to help protect the worlds endangered animals as a result of their habitats being diminished to feed organisations such as Ikea, that uses 1% of the world’s wood every year.  Remember the Kyoto

Does anyone remember this ?  “I am the one that is burdened with finding the balance between sound environment practice on one hand and jobs for the American people on the other” I wasn’t long after this statement was made that President Bush abandoned the Kyoto Accord favoring a stronger economy over a strained world environment – little did he know just over 15 years later America like the rest of the word suffered through a global financial crisis that damaged the very economy he was trying to protect, in turn this slowed down if not closed down many of the very same polluting industries,  in the same way that the Kyoto Accord would have.

Putting the environment aside, the experiment we are all participating in stretches far beyond the environment we live in.  An example of this is the additions that we have developed to seemingly make our lives better.  Lets take the mobile phone for example.  When the innocent mobile phone was first used back on the 3rd April 1973, Martin Cooper, a senior engineer at Motorola, didn’t call his rival and competitor company to boast about speaking to them on his mobile phone, believing that his invention would be the cause of many a car accident, the phrase “time poor” or that it would in fact become the platform of millions of “apps”, a camera/video camera or even phone banking.  He believed he was revolutionizing simple voice communication allowing someone to talk to someone else without having a spring wire connecting the hand-piece to the wall.  The phone experiment has morphed into something more than just a tool, a means of communicating.  It’s now a computer, GPS, ATM, Camera, shopping trolley, alarm, stopwatch, calendar among a million other things.  Psychologically a mobile phone is as addictive as a drug, it’s as dependable as a family member or friend.  Its missed when we leave it at home.  Its pined over, its cared for, its checked more frequently than a baby, and now, its become more important to us than the safety of ourselves and the people around us.   How should we mark the mobile phone experiment ?  Pass or fail ?

Some of histories greatest experiments have given us some of life’s most useful discoveries.  Plato said “Science is nothing but perception” and he was right when it comes to Penicillin.   Scottish Biologist Alexander Flemming while researching Staphylococcus went on holiday leaving his dirty dishes near his cultures, the fungi that grew on his dirty dished killed the Staphylococci dead in its tracks, which lead to the discovery of Penicillin.   Microwave Ovens came about after an engineer, Percy Spencer, working for Raytheon, walked in front of a magnetron and discovered the chocolate bar in his pocket had melted.  A few tweaks and several exploding eggs later, the microwave oven was invented.   Vaseline came from the oil fields – known then as “Rod Wax” it used to gum up the drilling equipment, a guy named Robert Chesebrough re-branded it as Vaseline, and its been treating cuts and abrasions since.  See oil drilling did give us something useful after all !!!  Apart from Oil, which is present in practically everything we touch, wear, spray on our skin, wash through our hair, rub on our lips, cook on, in and with, watch, listen through, to and on, etc etc etc

The religion experiment has seem world wars, terrorism, so-called witches burned on stakes and millions of people persecuted for something that can’t be seen by most as it’s a state of mind, a belief, a way of life.  Religion directs large populations to dress a certain way.  Pray to god known differently across the various religious groups in different ways, at different time, using different languages.  For the Atheists out there, they’re not understood.  The fear of the unknown, or misunderstood has created some of the worlds greatest, most atrocious events in history.   Fear of being different, misunderstood, or simply the fear that someone believes in something different to our own beliefs has caused us to turn on our own.  Human against human.  What are we thinking !!??  Extremists take things to the extreme, it’s as simple as that.  But the knowledge that we are all here in the atmosphere, on the same ball, in the same galaxy, doesn’t halt their need to fulfill their belief.  For this, the experiment continues, for all of us.  A great chunk of us live in hope that the experiment will conclude peacefully, and there are those that believe the opposite.  All we can really do is wait and see.

The one experiment I can think of that’s likely to affect us all at one point or another, is the one that see’s us leaving the earth.  Some say its to escape the planet due to its increasing failure to support long-term life, and some say it’s purely as a way to further discover places we haven’t been.

My opinion is this.  We are here for a reason.  Not as individuals, but as a species.   Until we can all come together and coexist as that,  will we then realise the gift we have under our feet isn’t doing so well.  We’re to distracted with what everyone else is doing.   The earth is a garden.  If we don’t care for it, it will die.  And Our garden is starting to die !!!

    The Earth Experiment No one knows what tomorrow will bring, let alone what impacts today will have on tomorrow.  We, everyone and everything on this planet we ride on, are embroiled in the universes greatest experiment.