#I am so blessed to have been part of this magma

[leilanising]

Here are some doodles from @tmnt-fandom-family-reunion 's magma! <3

@allyheart707 (right) and @yourlocaltiredartist (left) made these beautiful artworks for me!!

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

I was going to actually post this before asks closed (didn’t get the chance), but Teddy Bear Anon, you are one of my favorite people and a magnificent creature. You get my vibe. 

About Bad canonically being Sapnap’s dad I feel like that has so much extra angst potential when we consider the rest of the found family. Like. Sapnap, Tommy, and Fundy all have dads who started with the best of intentions but for one reason or another ended up slowly becoming a danger to them. I imagine Tommy and Fundy one day showing up with a cake and telling Sapnap “We regretfully welcome you to the shit dad club” and Sapnap is torn between being upset still and laughing over the absurdity of the situation.

Bonus points if Tommy made the cake using a recipe book that Niki gave him, the last gift Niki ever gave to Tommy. Tommy was originally a really bad cook/baker but after the egg really started to take over he went full survivalist. Leaning to cook was necessary but learning to bake was something he did as a way to raise everyone’s spirits. He’s never gotten the flavor quite to match with Niki’s perfectly but everyone agrees he’s gotten pretty decent in terms of skills. He and Fundy in particular will sometimes just spend an entire day in silence baking and then quietly eat their creations while reflecting on the friends they’ve made and lost over the course of L'manberg’s lifetime. When the group got back to the past and Niki made cookies for Tommy and Fundy the pair very nearly started crying.

Tommy is in an interesting position as a character since he did commit a lot of minor crimes and acted as a general nuisance but he was also still a child. (A very traumatized one considering I canonize SMP Earth with its unlimited lives but even more wars. Including against God. Tommy fought God just let me have this.) He acknowledges the moments when he went over the line and has tried to apologize. In particular at some point before the egg fully takes over he pulls aside Jack and tells him that he’s sorry for the way he acted when he was still in exile, taking one of Jack’s lives and all. Jack and Niki in particular are an interesting subject to address and a painful one for immune!Tommy to think about when he sees younger Niki because the three never fully tossed out the hatchet but it was obvious in the eyes of someone like Sam that both of them were growing more and more hesitant to hurt Tommy. It was made worse by the fact neither were even marginally immune, and it didn’t take long for the egg to get to them.

He never stopped being chaotic. Tommy at his core is just that kind of person. He did, however, grow up enough to act in a more mature manner. Started to recognize what’s too much. In particular he became a lot less violent and willing to lash out after Sam Nook in essence reparented him. He’s still an absolute wild card of a person, which in the eyes of Sam and Sapnap is a good thing. For this au I think we should actually address Tommy having severe ptsd and during the building of his hotel/the early days of the egg before it becomes a noticeable threat it shows. He’s a lot more subdued. Shows of aggression all carry a kind of desperation and his typical jokes feel flat. Lashing out at people slowly becomes more of a defense mechanism to see if someone’s going to leave or betray him, to test the limits of how nice they’re willing to be. After all, nice people have only ever been nice to Tommy when they wanted something from him. His eyes, especially after L'manberg is blow sky high, are well and truly gray. The first time Tommy genuinely laughs after filling Sapnap’s room with chickens is considered celebration worthy to them. His pranks take on a more hermitcraft-esque feel to them which honestly makes them more funny.

By the time they get to the past Tommy has recovered, but he still carries the kind of maturity that like Teddy Bear mentioned is reminiscent of age swap Tommy. When he gets especially stressed though, Immune!Tommy will slip into moments where he acts as tired and done with the world as age swap Tommy. With that said, most of the time he just acts like a more mature Tommy. Nothing could ever completely erase his unique vibe which Ranboo has gone on record as describing “Willing to fight God deaf, blind, and backwards just to prove a point." 

Immune Fundy and Tommy get on really well once Fundy manages to catch up with the rest of the group. It gets to the point where everyone from the past is kinda shocked since smp Fundy and Tommy do not get along. At all. Literally the first night Fundy’s back someone goes to wake them up and they find Fundy asleep on top of Tommy which is a wild experience since this Tommy is a goliath who often refuses to take off his full Netherite max enchant armor. He really becomes a "looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll” kinda mans.

Also, yeah, this is Dream’s retirement arc. He is literally just sitting in the corner watching Tommy dote on his younger self and Tubbo before completely pile driving two of the most powerful people on the server straight into the dirt. At some point Tommy sits down with past Punz. He tells this Punz that their Punz died protecting him and Tubbo and that Tommy never got to properly thank their Punz so he’s going to thank this Punz. Tommy then gives Punz an entire stack of Netherite. If we’re gonna go ahead and agree on Phoenix Tommy then Tommy is fire proof, meaning he probably spent a large amount of time in the nether to avoid the egg crew and get rare supplies. Meaning he also probably did a lot of mining just to distract himself and it resulted in him being loaded. Tommy used to have a fear of tnt and explosives but he seems like the type of mad lad to say “exposure therapy” and make a massive cavern in the underbelly of the nether.

I think it would also be really interesting to dedicate like, a couple of chapters to other people’s perspectives. I kind of want to set the time they arrive in the past partway through the Pogtopia arc since I like mildly unhinged but not completely gone Wilbur. Plus then it also makes more sense for Techno to be there. Just prefer the aesthetic really. I want to have Wilbur see this version of Tommy and come to a sudden “oh” moment. I want to have a moment where Tubbo looks between his Tommy and this new Tommy, seeing himself nowhere to be found, and has enough what the fuck moments to become aggressively protective of his own Tommy. Especially if immune!Tommy ever admits to the past Tubbo why he is the way he is, what he faced under the thumb of the people he trusted. Which, out of everyone on the server, Tubbo would be the first one from the past to actively learn. 

I am fully on board with Tommy knowing how to sew. That should just automatically be canon in literally ever AU. Tommy for all intents and purposes is still Phil’s child for me. Survival runs in the family the same way that chaos does, so he’s got a ton of basic survival skills that he just doesn’t show off because it’s still Tommy. He would have been completely fine in exile if it wasn’t for Dream. Whenever someone ruins their clothes in the Immune group they automatically go to Tommy and at first the past versions are very confused (except for past Tommy and Tubbo obviously) and then Tommy’s just “Sapnap this is beyond ruined it can’t be saved, let me make you something new” and within a couple days he makes Sapnap a completely new outfit. Like maybe Sapnap fell into a lava pool because Blaze Sapnap Supremacy and his clothes are beyond saving and everyone is beyond baffled when Tommy just acts like this is a weekly occurrence. He’s memorized Sapnap’s measurements and style tastes and already had a new outfit in the works for him that Sapnap immediately adores upon it being presented to him. It takes about a week for past Eret to learn that Tommy stress sews new clothing and he cannot think of a better model. Eret has never had such a full closet. Eret has everything from three piece suits to ball gowns now. Eret lives in terror of the days where Tommy disappears god knows where with Fundy and the two reappear with a new wardrobe for the entire god damn server. 

Speaking of disappearing I really like the idea of part phoenix and part tanuki Tommy for a couple reasons. Being a Tanuki he’d have access to enough magic to hide his hybrid traits, which if they’ve been present for long enough would be a necessity to him. Additionally think about Fundy and Tommy building a den under Church Prime that slowly turns into a maze. Think about it. It starts off simple and then they both start digging more and it gets deeper and deeper and more complicate and the two just refer to it as their den and the only ones who are fully aware of the connotations of that word are Sam, Sapnap, and Ranboo who remember the absolute hell that was trying to navigate the original. Just Fundy and Tommy bonding over the fact they are literally the only creatures on this server that have this catacomb memorized and at the end of the catacomb is their saferoom which connects to rail way that the two spent a month straight on. It goes at least 25k blocks from spawn and it’s a final emergency resort in case they can’t stop the egg and the Immunes needs to regroup and essentially try again (if they keep bringing their younger selves with them then hopefully they’ll finally get an army large enough to stop this, but everyone really hopes it doesn’t come to that.)

I’m working on the first chapter of my fic right now actually if I’m gonna be honest and phoenix Tommy is absolutely without question canon to it but I’ve still been going back and forth on if I want him to be part tanuki as well or just blessed/favored by one like Teddy Bear mentioned. I’m also tucking away the whole thing about the magma blood for later use. Phoenix Tommy just makes sense. They used to call him Zombie Kid for a reason back on SMP Earth, he just literally does not die ever unless he decides he does.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I’m not sure if a bunch of you will be interested in this, but I’m making a second book of Embers that’s set in Lara’s childhood. So... There’ll be very, very, very little CC content in it (if any), which makes me wonder if it even counts as ‘fanfic’ despite being set in the BC universe. But meh. Canon is a sandbox for me, and all of us, to play in. 

Do tell if you want to be tagged ^-^

This book will be safe to read, but might include depictions of eternity, violence and such themes, although at a canon typical level, it might be disturbing to some readers. I’ll try to tag accordingly, but proceed with caution. 

Length: 1k

Part 0: I have many crowns, but I am no queen

It’s getting dark. It’s that time of the year again, but it’s beautiful. And I don’t mind the dark. My flames will keep me warm, and the world outside of home, it’s vast and distant… All those hills and valleys, they stretch as far as I can see.

I like it here.

People come and go occasionally. Much like myself I suppose. But people, they never stay. They always leave, for more reasons than one. That’s how they are and they’re not to be blamed for it. Their lives are blessed to be as short as they are. Or cursed. I wonder which it is. Or if it just is.

Hmm…

I suppose it just is. It is, and it always has been. They are as they are, and I am as I am. Even if it gets tedious at times. Same issues with different names, and minor twists that supposedly make all the difference. It’s all the same. Always the same. And people…

What’s that?

Hmmm…

Ah, it was nothing. Just someone passing by. A little speck of light in the darkness. Under the blanket of stars. That’s one of the things why I’m so fond of this place. It’s peaceful, quiet, and the stars are so bright in here.

But it’s nice to go see the kids. They remind me of someone else. Or perhaps so many before them. Especially the oldest. She’s bright, and she’s warm. As long as she remembers that no matter what path she takes, it will have a consequence. And the consequences, they’ll have a bigger impact on her life than mine. I can wait it out. Come here and wait it out, if it comes to that. If that’s the resort I’m forced to take, and it’ll make no difference to me. I’ve lived long, and I’ll still live long. I’ll live long enough. I’ve lived long enough. But there are still things to see, even if it gets tedious.

I wonder if Asgareia has gotten there yet. To the point where it feels tedious. And dull. So very monotone.

It’s just like magma, floating deep beneath the earth. It always stays in motion, and it is beautiful. But at times the steady flow, the turn of those tides as well, it gets tedious. Then it’s refreshing to look at the flickering of the stars above.

The flickering of stars. And the bright sun in the sky.

I wonder how they’re doing. It’s been a while since I’ve last seen them. Though it’s always pleasant to visit Thea. It’s warm and comforting, the lull of the earth. The flow of mana. And all those who are there. Too crowded for living long term, despite what some might say.

I prefer this.

This is home. It might be mostly hills, rocks, valleys and the molten rock deep beneath the earth. Even if only nearby. This is my solitude. And I like it here.

The air… It’s fresh. And the lights are so bright. The glittering all around that hides my archives. My collections, and the bits and pieces that people have left behind. I wonder why. Once they treasured them so much, but then they were just left in the dust; in the ashes of time. Just left behind. But then again, once I die, my collection will become that as well. There won’t be anyone to treasure it, anyone to admire it. The crowns, the broken and the intact; the manuscripts, the finished and the unfinished. Perhaps even the inks.

Though Lara might take the inks. Once she has grown up. And Lena might like some of the manuscripts. But then they won’t be in my collection anymore.

Such a shame.

But. I like them. And they seem promising.

Solar magic… Yet again. Seems strong in the lineage, but perhaps, this time around it’ll work out. The affinity… I hope she nurtures it. Arctie chooses to take more after me. And he is fire, more than light. He is fire, high up in the sky. But Lara… I wonder what she is.

Though… I suppose I should say that she’s human. She is a child. She is small, and naïve. She is uneducated. Her thinking patterns are too straight forward. They are too much in the present. They are… They’re that of a child.

But. She is a child. She is observant, and witty. She is resourceful. And she thinks. But she’s a child. With promise.

She is a child, but she will grow up. And that’s when it gets interesting. Though it’ll be intriguing to see her growing up as well; to see how that light will begin to shine, and the fire will flicker, how it’ll flow and crackle. I hope she explores it. Because so many have fallen to the stale thoughts of how it should be. Solar is fire. Solar is light. It burns. It illuminates. It weighs. It breaks and scorches.

… Yes… and no.

There’s always a no.

And it’s all been seen and done before. It starts by seeming so promising. I hope this isn’t that as well.

I wonder if she likes the inks. The curious things in the world. The long forgotten, curious things. For all but me.

I’ve been called that, haven’t I? The herald of inks? What was that about anyhow? I’ve just collected them, that’s all. I collected it when it all fell down. And it was only then that they became interesting. The crown, studded with jewels from the crowns of others called me that. But the kingdom crumbled. Like they all do. It’s all nothing but ashes.

Dust to dust.

And yet, there is light. The sky above doesn’t care about the ashes of earth. But light, it shines above it all. The flicker of those small stars, almost too far to see… They still cast light. And the world bathes in it. The world bathes in light, cradled by it.

It’s so bright. The light. It’s always there.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH132

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

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Chapter 132: The Dream of the Holy Nun (XXII)

To be or not to be?

This is really a simple choice.

But at that moment, this choice was extremely difficult.

Qi Leren slowly closed his eyes. He couldn't reveal his emotions. At this moment, his heart was beating so fast that an emotion that could be called ecstasy surged in his mind.

He had a great opportunity.

Originally he didn't even have one in ten thousand possibilities, but now, he did.

He needed acting ability, 200% acting ability, just like when he played Red.

Qi Leren took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes.

Those brown eyes revealed the human struggle. He moved his lips, as if he wanted to question Su He about why he did this, but in the end the bitter accusations all turned into a trembling in his eyes. His eyes, his expression, and his shaking fingertips were filled with the desire to live.

For a moment, Su He almost thought he was going to give in, but he shivered suddenly, took a step back, and looked at the closed stone door. He seemed ashamed of his weak will, so he wanted to look in the direction he had come, wanted to escape and ask for help, but he knew that he couldn’t escape his fate. Finally, he only turned around in despair, shame, and helplessness, and looked at Su He again.

They stared at each other for a long time. The Devil's scarlet eyes were only interested in observing the human, while the observed humans had too many emotions, from resistance to struggle, from hesitation to compromise, and finally it turned into deep despair and he began to cry.

Those beautiful brown eyes closed, and when they opened again there was only an empty desire to live.

The Devil smiled and looked at him with encouragement, but he stopped looking at the Devil. He was still suffering for his weakness, so he didn't dare to look at him.

Trembling, he took the first step towards his journey.

Descent begins with this small step.

After this step, there was numbness, compromise, and submission.

He had come to the Devil King, quietly looking at the goblet filled with the Devil’s blood in his hand. If he drank this cup of the Devil's blood he could gain great power, but at the same time would degenerate into a demon.

The human being lured by the Devil King took the goblet with both hands. The blood in the goblet was like wine. He stared at the red liquid his Adam's apple rolled.

The Devil smiled.

The goblet tilted, the glass pressed on his lips, and the bright red liquid was about to catch his lips, but another transparent liquid rolled down from his eyes first. The humble man’s brown eyes gazed at the Devil, wept silently, and silently swallowed the temptation from hell.

The moment the blood flowed into his mouth, the transformation had already started. His brown eyes became scarlet and the devil sigil climbed over his cheek from his earlobe, leaving a thorn-like mark. Black wings sprouted from his back and pierced his clothes. They were as beautiful as a black swan’s, like an angel who had fallen from heaven.

The new demon held the empty goblet in his hand and his blood-red lips parted slightly, looking at his master.

"You look like an naive and innocent lover, beautiful but so enjoyable to see destroyed." The Devil King leaned down, kissed the forehead of his beloved demon in reward, and whispered softly, "From today on, your name is 'Depravity'."

The devil's blood slipped from the new "fallen’s" lips, and the viscous scarlet liquid flowed down his chin and fell to the earth.

At the moment when the blood fell to the ground, a violent explosion engulfed the two people who stood opposite each other, and they vanished in an instant.

　　&&&

In the scenes where reality and illusion were interweaved, countless illusions passed by the two people pitted in combat -�� demons crawling in the lava of hell growled, blazing angels falling from heaven prayed, and the holy light and the demonic energy intertwined together, overturning large areas of trees and even distorting this space, making the two people fighting seem to be in another time and space.

The land under the Witch of Jealousy's feet had turned into a burning hell where countless demons hatched from evil and were shot through by the unreal blazing angels one by one. The witch looked at Ning Zhou with red eyes hidden behind he black veiled hat, with a smile on her mouth: "Are you in a hurry? Are you worried? Is it for Qi Leren? I remember him. He gave me my sister's things in the underground palace. He is really a kind and good man. I should thank him..."

"He has a pair of beautiful eyes, brown, but my Lord thinks red eyes are more suitable for him." The Witch of Jealousy’s scarlet eyes flashed, maliciousness pouring out from her painted red lips, "As long as they drink the blood given by my Lord, ordinary human beings can easily become demons just like me and get unimaginable power. You see, you’ve been studying hard in the Holy See for so many years, but I’m tied with you. No one can refuse the temptation of strength, no one.

"He’s going to betray you, poor knight, he’s going to betray you!" The witch laughed madly, shrill laughter with hysteria.

Ning Zhou, who was intercepted by another demon, waved off the giant demon and landed lightly on a rock in the hellish lava. He said coldly to the witch, "You’re jealous."

The witch's laughter came to an abrupt end and the smile that died on her mouth slowly turned into anger: "What do you know?"

At this moment, the Witch of Jealousy perfectly interpreted the appearance of jealousy. She stepped forward on the lava and said sharply in a distorted voice: "You don't know anything! I was so careful, so I walked on the edge of the cliff with every step and climbed out of hell little by little, just to see him again. I tried my best to reach what I am today, but it happened that some people are so lucky that they could easily ascend to heaven. He likes him, praises him, seduces him... Why, why is my Lord so fond of him?!”

The witch's anger triggered the illusion of hell and the lava turned into flames and shot at Ning Zhou. The two knives in Ning Zhou's hands crossed and he stood in front of her, but he rushed past regardless - the magma was split by holy light and his sharp knives passed through the furious lava and appeared in front of Isabel.

The angry witch smiled grimly and raised her sword to stab him.

The angels and demons in the false image collided together and a magnificent disillusionment broke out from them.

Suddenly the boiling magma died down, the shaking earth died down, and even the surging night wind died down.

Among the hills where the Vatican was located, there were only sacred songs and music coming as if from nowhere under the bright starry sky, compassionate and holy.

Blood flowed down the tip of the thin sword, trickling into the fertile soil, and the two people who were so close that there was almost no distance between them stood motionless, then suddenly separated.

The thin sword had pierced Ning Zhou's abdomen, but the short knives had penetrated the witch's chest.

More and more blood flowed down.

Isabel's black veiled hat had fallen to the ground, revealing her dim scarlet eyes. Covering her chest, blood streaming through her fingertips from her beating heart.

She seemed shocked, but the surprise gradually turned into self-mockery and loneliness. A gust of wind blew and she slowly fell down, looking at the night sky with her eyes empty.

"It's too late..." the Witch of Jealousy murmured. "Even if you go there, it's too late. He doesn't belong to you... You’ve lost him..."

Ning Zhou stepped forward and came to her. Blood flowed out from his abdominal wound, but he didn't feel it.

Blood was trickling from Isabel’s mouth. She looked him in the eye and asked dreamily, "Do you know the taste of jealousy?"

The bloody knife hung over her head, and the blood trickled down the blade and fell on her forehead.

The witch looked into his eyes and showed an understanding smile: "Ah, that’s the taste."

The knife fell and pierced the witch's head, and her demon crystal was broken in the holy light.

The demons condensed from rocks disintegrated, and the illusion of the dying demons screamed silently and dissipated in the night sky. The space dominated by the witch was gradually restored to be in line with reality. The ghostly angels stayed in the void for a while, bowed to the broken church on the top of the hill, and then disappeared into the night of the new moon.

Ning Zhou coughed softly, but the movement of the lungs disturbed his abdominal wound, making the blood flow faster. He leaned partially against a half-fallen tree, took a deep breath, and bandaged himself with a straight face.

After only doing the simplest medical treatment, and even having no time to clean up the demon energy that had infected his body through the wound, Ning Zhou hastily put on his clothes and ran towards the church on the top of the hill.

White gauze was quickly dyed red, but Ning Zhou’s training had accustomed him to being injured and he numbly adapted to this degree of pain. He had to go quickly, quickly…

There was an earth-shattering noise and the church on the top of the hill began crumbling.

Ningzhou's footsteps stopped, and his heartbeat seemed to stop with the explosion.

As his chest stuttered, blood gas rolled up from the depths of the throat and Ning Zhou spat out one mouthful of stagnated blood. The pain that he should have been used to was overpowered by the feeling of his heart breaking. He wiped the blood from his mouth, dyeing the silver cross embroidery on his gloves red with blood.

God, if I am guilty, please let all the harsh punishments come on me, even if I have to pay for it in hell for all eternity.

Please, bless him and let him be safe.

-----

The author has something to say:

Although the author thinks that the plot is quite clear, there are still many girls who don't understand it. Simply put: Su He is the Devil of Fraud, male (three years ago, he appeared in the appearance of a woman during the Witchcraft Sacrifice). His status has changed from before, but he was originally a player. There are witches and demons like Isabel under his hand, and there will be other devils/witches acting under others outside. The master of the Witch of Nightmares (the little girl who was like Maria) is not the Devil of Fraud, but the old Devil.

The Nightmare World is equivalent to another real alien world. It is not surprising for either NPCs or human beings to become Devil Kings. For example, it is also possible for someone to aspire to the Holy See and become the Pope after decades of hard work (provided that they are not dead).

At the same level as Su He, there are also the Devil King of Power and the Devil King of Slaughter. The relationship between these three people is not peaceful, and we will talk about it later; It was not them who were killed by Maria, Ning Zhou's mother. It was the old Devil who led the demons to invade the underworld for the first time more than 20 years ago. After he died, it was peaceful for more than 10 years. Three years ago, the text began, and three new Devil Kings led the demons to invade the human world for the second time.

Is it clear =v=

-----

Editor’s Notes: To take this opportunity to clear some things up a bit more, so far “Devil”, “Devil King”, and occasionally “Lord” have been used interchangably, though some devils who are of lower rank will appear in part 2. So among the Devil Kings we have the Devil of Fraud aka Su He, the Devil of Slaughter who was worshipped by the secret society in the previous arc, and the Devil of Power who has yet to appear in any notable capacity. All three of them are currently at the same level but are vying for supremacy, which was why Su He wanted the old Devil’s demon crystal. I would like to also clarify that despite being called Kings, not all of them are men.

Details about the old Devil will become much more clear in part 2, but for now all you need to know is that he was the former supreme ruler of the demons who was killed by Maria. :)

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[rainbowpacifiers]

Twin Kingdoms (A3! Event story) - Chapter 5

Haruto is distracted during rehearsals. Tasuku worries. Yuki pays a visit. Azami is impressed by Tsumugi’s and Juza’s passion for acting. They spotted who practicing out in the cold?!?

Chapter 4 | Index | Chapter 6

Tasuku: Morning. Tsumugi: Good morning. You've got rehearsals today too, right? Tasuku: Yeah. From morning, all day long. Tsumugi: What's practice like? Tasuku: Once again, a stimulating environment. Tasuku: The way they're unified, including those working behind the scenes, is the way it used to be, but Reni-san's influence or the atmosphere within the troupe have changed immensely. Tasuku: Discussions are livelier than in the past, and despite the nervousness towards Reni-san, everyone has come to relax and express their opinions. Tsumugi: The current top, Shift-kun, has an air of frankness too. He's a good kid with a relaxed manner, right? Tasuku: Yeah. I believe the top's personality had a certain influence too. Tasuku: (But Haruto is... Even though he's the lead this time, it feels like he's the only one not used to GOD Troupe's atmosphere.) Tsumugi: What about the lead, Haruto-kun? Tasuku: ...Sure enough, I think he's the one who understands GOD Troupe's plays better than anyone. Tasuku: Only Haruto can perfectly anticipate and grasp the points Reni-san might ask for. Tasuku: He has enough ability to play the lead.  Tsumugi: As you'd expect. Tasuku: (But maybe precisely because he understands Reni-san better than anyone else, he's also most upset about that change.) Tasuku: (It may be difficult for him to change because he's done his best just to embody Reni-san's ideals so far.) Tasuku: (It'd good if he doesn't find himself at an impasse...)

Reni: We will operate the projector video image here. Izumi: That's GOD Troupe for you. Your theatre has a variety of equipment. Reni: All sorts of things should be applicable at MANKAI Theatre too. Since it was selected rather carefully within the budget. Izumi: That's certainly helpful! Reni: This time, I was thinking of dividing the stage in two, into ice country and flame country. Izumi: I see. The ice country, pictured on top of a freezing mountain, and the flame country in the magma underground... Izumi: If it's well divided, it might be easier to visualise them. Reni: Heaven and earth, huh... Reni: An outlandish idea is similar to him. Izumi: Eh? You mean dad? Reni: Let's consider that direction for a moment. Izumi: Okay! Izumi: (I've never talked about directing with other people like this, so this is really illuminating.)

Yuki: Good work. Azami: Thank you. So you came. Yuki: They let me observe since I was already in the meeting for the costume plan. Azami: How was the meeting? Yuki: I proposed some high-cost fabric that would definitely get rejected if we were dealing with the money-grubbing yakuza, but it passed easily. Yuki: They said that it was common for GOD Troupe. I got excited for a moment, but you can just feel the gap, right? Azami: I got jealous when I saw the makeup staffs' tools too. Yuki: I want a bigger budget. Azami: That. Being poor is hard. Yuki: How is practice going? Azami: Hm, I'd heard lots of rumours about Reni-san, so I was considerably prepared, but he's not harsh and actually feels rather gentle. It was anticlimactic. Azami: Also, I've never been with Tasuku-san together for so long, so sometimes I feel disconcerted. Azami: Even during breaks, he's so into his role that he sometimes doesn't come back. Yuki: Yeah. That's the theatre idiot for you. What are the GOD Troupe members like? Azami: Seeing Shift performing all seriously in the practice room is really refreshing and fun. Totally different from his usual self. Yuki: Isn't he probably thinking the same? Azami: Maybe. The lead, Haruto-san's... Yuki: What? Azami: Nah, it's nothin'. Azami: (The way Haruto-san seems... it kind of reminds me of someone.)

Reni: Haruto, Cain's interpretation is shallow. That way, it appears as if he's just taking action while being swept away. Reni: Shift as well; you're still not quite conveying Lutz' feelings for Cain. Reni: Restructure the relationship between the two of them some more. Haruto: Yes. Shift: Okay. Reni: As for Tasuku and Izumida, the relation of master to servant has pretty much come to completion. Reni: I think it would be alright if you brought out more of the affable parts in one another, but that route is generally fine. Haruto: ...... Haruto: (That's right. When Tasuku was in GOD Troupe, he was always complimented, and I was the only one who got criticised...) Haruto: (Each time, I would commit everything I was told to memory and exerted myself to meet all of Reni-san's demands...) Reni: ...Haruto. Haruto? Shift: Haruto-san! Haruto: Ye, yes!? Reni: I was telling you to consult with Tasuku regarding your scene together in the 2nd act... Were you not listening? Haruto: ...I'm sorry! Haruto: (Me, doing something like failing to hear Reni-san's words--) Reni: Never mind. We will be taking a 20-minute break now. After that, we will begin with act 2. Haruto: ...Understood.

Haruto: ....Haah. Haruto: (Reni-san wasn't even mad.... Maybe that means he was completely disappointed.) Haruto: (Up until now, there were so many times where I got severely scolded... And each time, I'd practice like mad.) Haruto: (Without missing what the other troupe members were told, I'd do my best so that he wouldn't take notice of me for the same thing.) Haruto: (I don't have the physique that Tasuku was blessed with, nor the kind of focus where I'm so completely lost in my acting that I forget to sleep and eat.) Haruto: (Rather than getting into my role, I end up being more worried over how I am being seen.) Haruto: (Is my intonation alright? Or do I look like a person with the right quality for GOD Troupe? ... I have always overcome it with effort.) Haruto: (In the end, I have no choice but to do do everything in my power regardless of appearances.) Haruto: (It will work out. It's always been that way. From now on too--)

Haruto: --huh? Haruto: (It's unlocked?) Haruto: ......

Tasuku: "Tch, that pighead! His brains are fossilising with old age." Haruto: Tasuku... Tasuku: Oh, Haruto, are you here to practice on your own too? I wanted to do a bit more too, so I asked the staff to keep it open for me for a while longer. Haruto: Doesn't your troupe have their own practice room? Tasuku: But here, I can do it in the same area as the actual performance. That makes grasping the feeling easier. Haruto: Hmm. Tasuku: Since you're here, let's try that scene Reni-san wanted us to discuss today-- Haruto: I just came to get something I forgot. Tasuku: .....Come to think of it, this has happened before. Haruto: Is that right? Well, I'm leaving first. Tasuku: ......

Azami: Phew.... Azami: (I took a bath, so all that's left is sleep... ah, before I go to bed, maybe I should read the script and go over what I was told today.) Tsumugi: You don't have to put that in the fridge? Juza: 'cause I'm eatin' it right away. Tsumugi: Oh. Azami: ....Hey, show me what's in that grocery bag. Azami: It's all sweet stuff. Don't tell me you're thinking of eating this now? Tsumugi: We got caught by the person who wasn't supposed to find us. Juza: .....That reminds me, we saw that guy while on our way back. Azami: Even if you try to evade the subject-- Tsumugi: No, really. I was thinking of telling Tasuku too. Azami: Who do you mean? Juza: Was it Yamada? [1] Tsumugi: No, it's Asuka Haruto. From GOD Troupe. Juza: We only saw him from afar, but it looked like he was practicing on the river bed with the script in one hand. Azami: Why would he do that on the river bed in this cold? He's definitely going to catch a cold. When he could just use GOD Troupe's practice rooms. Juza: While on the way home, he probably had the sudden urge for individual practice? Azami: Suddenly, while walking home? Does that happen? Tsumugi: It does, usually. Juza: Yeah. Like when you want to try something that you suddenly thought of. Tsumugi: What happens often is when you think of a performance plan while you're walking, right? Azami: Seriously? Azami: (....You guys are the real deal.)

_________________

[1] If you recall, Haruto’s real name is Yamada Genta. 

Chapter 4 | Index | Chapter 6

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 20 (NSFW)

Read on AO3. Part 19 here. Part 21 here.

Summary: You wonder where Ren got his teaching license. His education strategies are unorthodox.

Words: 4800

Warnings: snowballing, Commander Ren’s a Nasty Boi (tm)

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hi and welcome to Anna makes herself Sad. I love y'all so much--so happy to hear you enjoy Ren in this fic. I love writing him! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too. I'm deeply appreciative of any and all feedback.

(p.s. sorry but snowballing is hot, deal with it)

You pushed open the two curtained French doors and walked into the den, easing them shut behind you. The lamps in the room were out--the only light spilling from a blazing fire at the hearth. A warm orange glow filtered through, an incandescent film, the room transformed into a sunset. Tall shadows stretched across cherry hardwood, now bubbling with a magma aurora, grazing the ivory wallpaper, revealing the tiny golden threads woven through its curling pattern. Gold-trim paintings gleamed at the sides of heavy maroon curtains, their inlaid marble settings flickering with the fire’s breath. Its heat crawled through your toes, up your ankles, inspiring sweat at the backs of your knees. 

Or maybe what was making you sweat was at the opposite end of the room--your Commander, Kylo Ren, seated behind a large, chestnut desk, its thick Cabriole legs appearing delicate against the background of his enormous frame. In front of the desk was a single Chesterfield chair, upholstered in a luscious blue velvet. Ren, impassive, met your gaze, focus dipping over your figure before he straightened, directing you to sit with his eyes.

Throat dry, you obliged. 

Under the pressure of his presence, even the scratching rustle of your dress as you sat seemed ear-splintering. You focused on the desk--across it was the Bible, open to Samuel. More notations in the margins in that loopy, lovely handwriting. Only one word was identifiable, underlined at the bottom of the page. 

Obedience.

Ren’s stare lingered in the silence. You weren’t willing to break it. It was a rush of relief when he finally spoke.

“You’re not happy here.”

You raised a brow, studying the folds in your gloves. “No. I’m not.”

“That needs to change.”

“You’re saying you care about my happiness?” You still refused to meet his eyes.

“No.” He sat forward. “Your willingness. Your compliance.”

“My obedience?” You held back the snark in your voice.

Ren shifted again, thumbing the page in front of him. “It’s not enough to be obedient,” he said. “We strive for acceptance. Understanding. The end result is happiness.” He paused. “Tell me what needs rectifying.”

The words floated like buoys in your mind. He was, in his own bizarre way, asking your opinion--but what you wanted to say was never going to be what he wanted to hear. Finn’s words, distant, echoed: You’d have to get on his good side. Here now was an open opportunity to endear yourself to Ren, to bathe yourself in pliant understanding, to assuage his concerns and, with any hope, use your increased proximity for your own gain. All you needed to do was lie. You glanced at your hands again, tracing the seams of your gloves.

“I’m not sure if anything needs rectifying,” you said. “Some Handmaids are just… defective.”

“Defective.” The word shriveled on his tongue. “Is that how you classify yourself?”

You shrugged. “Maybe. I can’t really seem to get this stuff through my head, you know? I don’t think that means there’s anything wrong with the system.”

“You believe that the fault lies within your own shortcomings.”

“I do.” Your tone was even. Cool. And, hopefully, convincing. “There are plenty of Handmaids who don’t do the things I’ve done.” You sighed, as if frustrated with yourself. “You have to leave room for human error. The problem is with me. Gilead… I mean, what else could you do? There’s been a lot of thought put into it as it is.”

Ren sat, considering you, your heart a timpani in your temples, the distant echo of your concussion rapping the edge of your skull. Silent, he snapped to his feet, circling the desk. Then circling you. Every breath drawn into your lungs wilted in the silence of the den, his attention a laser, searing the perimeter of your skin. He stopped--you felt his powerful grip at the back of your chair.

“That’s not what you believe.”

You swallowed. “I’m sorry?”

“You don’t believe you’re defective. Or that Gilead is errorless.”

Clearing your throat, you shrugged again. “How would you know that, sir?”

Ren swooped and pinched your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I’ve told you to use my name.”

His eyes, live coals glittering with the fire’s reflection, disintegrated the oxygen in your chest. Warmth licked a line up your spine to your nape.

“Kylo,” you corrected. You kept your neck straight. “How would you know that?”

He released you. “Because it’s not what I believe.”

“What?”

He returned to the head of the desk, looming over it, palms planted on either side of the Bible. His eyes roamed, searching for something either intangible or invisible, before looking at you. 

“You’re not defective,” he said. “It’s precisely because you’re not like the others that I want to know what you think.” His jaw tightened. “I want to know what you want.”

You blinked. “What I…”

“If Gilead was errorless,” he said, “then you would accept your role. You would want for nothing.” 

“You want me to want for nothing.”

A pause as he held you, briefly, in silence. “Yes.” His eye twitched. His lips trembled. “I want that.”

Your palate was more arid than a desert. His admission battered your guard. How could it be that both of you could sit, drenched in your desire for the other, each attempting to justify it through your politics? Here you were, pretending that you craved a connection to him only for the benefit of the Resistance. And here he was, using Gilead as an excuse to secure your safety, your happiness. 

Perhaps he’d been right. You and Ren were separated by a mirror’s edge--one and the same, both bound by shame and fear. Honesty could be your only respite from this misery. Whether he was ready for it or not.

“I want you, Kylo.” To speak the words into existence, acknowledge their truth with your tongue felt more dangerous than anything you’d done since entering his home. “I want you in ways I can’t have you. To know you in ways I can’t, ever.” An ache throbbed its way to your skin, pulsing raw and red from your belly. “And all of that is Gilead’s fault.”

Ren watched you, chest swelling with air, his shirt buttons straining with each breath, his shoulders crowding. The tendons in his hands tensed like violin strings tightened to the tune of his conflict, the tips of his fingers paling as they scraped the desk. His lips parted, his tongue darting to wet them. He’d caged an animal behind his flesh--an animal that, having heard its name, wanted nothing more now than to ravage you.

“I was right.” His mind pared you, an apple, sinking teeth into your tender core. “You are me.”

“I am,” you breathed. “God forgive me.”

Kylo Ren rose to his full height. “Oh, little bird,” he said, meandering toward you. “Forgiveness isn’t our lesson, tonight.”

Lust grew a thick knot in your throat. The question of whether or not you were going to fuck him didn’t even enter your mind--now that this forbidden longing, the one beyond pure lust had been named, it burst, a storm surge, washing you both in its riptide. So you swallowed.

“And how will any of this engender obedience toward Gilead?” you asked, only half-serious.

He sniffed in amusement. “We’ve said it ourselves. Gilead is flawed.” A large hand encircled your wrist, tugged you from the chair and against his solid frame. “I want you obedient to me.”

“Oh…” If breath were steam, your eyes would’ve fogged. “Fuck.”

Ren leaned forward, hot exhale whispering over your ear, his palms gliding along your sides, snagging the fabric of your dress--you shivered, a familiar burn kindling between your thighs. His teeth grazed the helix of your ear, and a whimper escaped you as you inched closer to him, grasping the lapels of his jacket to remain steady.

“I can’t stop thinking about your body,” he murmured. “I can’t stop thinking about how you taste…”

You nestled into his chest, heat streaming into your face. “How I--”

“Mm.” He nipped your ear. “Since I had your cunt last night, it’s all that’s been on my mind...” Ren pressed his lips to yours in a firm kiss and tore off your bonnet, your hair rolling free. “Take off your clothes, and get on my desk.”

Stilling your lungs, you nodded. It was a process--first your gloves, your shoes, your socks, then your dress, then the slip underneath that, your undergarments--but from the corner of your vision you saw Ren studying you, mesmerized, the entire time. You hadn’t the courage to look at him while you stripped, the reality of your red uniform still chaining your boldness, but when you stepped out of your underwear (hardly sexy enough to be called panties), you met his gaze--and suffocated under the gravity of it.

In Ren’s eyes, you could see nothing but complete and utter worship, as if your body was an altar, and he’d arrived for his blessing--or, maybe, his flagellation. This was a benefit of Gilead, you thought, the starvation for connection so intense that your nakedness had the power to bring Commander Kylo Ren to his figurative knees. And his hunger resonated--your pussy twinged with need.

You only basked in his admiration for a moment before you hoisted yourself onto his desk, the cool wood pimpling the backs of your thighs, and in seconds, a large hand seized your hip, another coiling itself in your hair as Ren pressed his mouth against you, plush lips smothering yours. Whimpering, you scooted forward, pinning your knees together to put pressure on the growing ache between your legs.

He drove his tongue in your mouth, slipping it over yours, the hand on your hip skimming your skin and finding your breasts. The feeling of flesh on flesh drew a moan from his throat, his grip greedy, possessive, kneading your tits while his kiss turned primal. Ren pinched your nipple, rolled it between his fingers, mouth moving to attack your neck, tongue tracing heat as he nipped at the sensitive skin, another shiver rippling through you.

“No--” If he left a hickey, you’d be dead. “Please--”

“Quiet.”

Grunting, he moved lower, licking a long line across your collarbone before lancing you with lust-addled eyes. Holding you in his stare, he teased the tip of his tongue across the tender tissue--and then growled, drawing it up between his teeth and sucking a harsh, dark mark into the skin. You whined, fighting the urge to let your head fall back; instead, you dipped forward, gripping his shoulders, burying your face in the thick waves of his hair. His smell--smoky and wooden and wintry--scrambled your brain. Taking in a long breath through your nose, you held it there, stupefying yourself in his scent.

Ren’s greed grew--he dug his teeth into your clavicle, breaking blood vessels, birthing a network of bruises across your upper torso. Electricity crackled in your veins, hips bucking toward him, clit growing stiffer with his aggression--in response, his hand left your hair, wrenching your thighs apart and smoothing over the soft, exposed flesh. 

Your mind spun with how quickly this had escalated--mere moments had passed and now you were naked, on your Commander’s desk, body screaming for him--but the fact that you’d both charged forth, possessed with passion and unashamed, was liberating. Within this tiny prism of space-time, Gilead’s hold had vanquished, its roles banished to irrelevance, the raw nerves of instinct exploding to the surface like cicadas--a hungry, blind swarm. 

“I need to taste every part of you…” His mouth drifted again, pressing kisses across your sternum until he reached your breasts, gazing at them in awe. “You’re beautiful...”

This dunked your brain in desire, left it to swim--you crumbled in his grasp, shuddering with want. Ren flicked your nipple with his tongue, relishing your full-body squeal before sucking it past his lips, a lewd, desperate moan escaping him. Pleasure buzzed over you, and you inched closer, your sex seeking any scraps of his touch it could manage, core throbbing wildly. He laved your peak, his other hand skating over the lips of your pussy, two digits testing you, peeling you apart by millimeters.

“Fuck.” Fingers foraged his mane, seeking purchase while he suckled at your tits. “Fuck, yes…”

Ren snickered, releasing your bud, trailing his mouth lower still, strong hands prying your thighs wide as he littered hot, furious kisses down the roll of your belly, streaks of saliva in his wake. Your blood pulsed with an insistence that dizzied you--or maybe it was the fact that Kylo Ren, your fucking Commander, was growing dangerously close to putting that beautiful fucking mouth on your cunt.

His two digits opened you wide, a third feathersoft on your clit, and you gasped, limbs jerking, nails biting into his scalp. He growled and snatched your wrists, tacking them to the desk, gazing at you from between your legs, a mask of deviancy on his face. It occurred to you then--Ren, not only figuratively, but literally on his knees. 

“Is this what you wanted, little bird?” He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath through his nose, brushing the tip over your folds before his lids fluttered open. “For me to make your pussy cum on my tongue?”

Face hot, you could do nothing but nod. 

“Say it.”

You groaned, tucking your chin to your chest. For all of this egregiously illegal intimacy, he hadn’t lost his desire to humiliate you, it seemed. “Please,” you said, “please… um, please make me… um...”

“Go on.”

“But--”

Ren pinched your clit in reprimand, and you squeaked. “Go on.”

“Please…” Embarrassment scalded you, flesh in flames. “Pleasemakemecumonyourtongue.”

The corner of his lip curled in the slightest acknowledgement. “Almost.”

Kylo Ren purred in anticipation and pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh, leaving soft, slow kisses there, warmth flooding you as he worked his way toward your wet, pulsing heat. Stuck under his control, you squirmed when his lips grazed your cunt, ghosting your folds, moving to your other thigh, nuzzling it and nipping the skin. Your walls clenched, and you whined, desperate, strained to snapping in your need for him.

“Please,” you gasped, “please make me cum on your tongue--God!”

He huffed. “No need to deify me.” He licked a flat stripe over your slit, and you snuffed a scream. “Desperate little thing.”

With that, Ren placed a deep, vulgar kiss to your pussy, tongue delving into your slit, a trembling groan echoing in his throat when he swallowed your wetness. His eyes, in the pits of perversion, watched you, soaking in your speechless delight while he explored each tiny crevice of your cunt. Bliss built inside of you, blocks of white hot energy, stacking with every second those velvety, full lips massaged your folds. Your mouth fell in an open pant, your hips rocking into his face--his hands moved, sticking your wrists to your hips as he gripped you there.

Your mind attempted to flash to the last time a man had his face in your cunt; the memory was hazy, forgettable. But this--the heat from the fire stoking sweat down your back, your breathless, wanton whimpers, the tickle of Ren’s hair at your thighs and the soft, urgent pressure of his tongue exploring your sex, the waves of pleasure cresting over you as you strained in his grasp--this was, would be, indelible. Resistance and its sacrifices be damned, you could die with this memory being your last, satisfied that you’d had the most beautiful man you’d ever seen place his lips to your pussy.

It was as you thought this that a spear of infatuation pierced your heart, and you gazed at Ren, chest tight with the distant reality that your temporary tryst could never flourish outside of these four walls, that beyond them, Johana was sleeping--or maybe sobbing--beyond them, Poe was dead and the Resistance was waiting. Beyond them, you were his Handmaid, a womb in his service, and your life, infinitely expendable, laid in his hands.

Thankfully, his tongue, expert enough to interrupt your exi-sexual crisis, fluttered over your clit, effectively wiping your brain blank, and you released a whining breath, hips jolting into his face when he drew the stiff nub into his mouth. Your head tipped back, pleasure crashing over you, tiny moans leaving you while he sucked slowly on your clit, engorged and throbbing at his lips.

Your core thumped with a demand to cum--Ren was reining you to a cliff, your desire a wild animal, bucking with abandon and ecstasy. His tongue swirled over your nub, slipping wet circles around it before he groaned and sucked it hard between his teeth. You wailed, calves wrapping around him, tugging him closer, your lungs emptying rapidly. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck--” 

Biting your lip, you fought yourself, your walls clenching with your impending climax. Ren slicked your folds again, pressing another greedy, rough kiss to your swollen pussy, gathering the cum at your core and gulping it down. Your clit twitched, screamed for him--he soothed it with the hot cavern of his mouth, the beating of his tongue--you almost cracked, hands fisting at your sides.

“That’s right,” he muttered into your flesh. “You know what I want to hear…”

“Kylo...” It left your lips without hesitation. “Yes, fuck, Kylo--”

Ren sucked fast at your clit, so deep in your pussy his nose flattened against you--and you broke, orgasm gushing through you, a geyser, a cascade of ecstasy that left you quaking, your walls spasming at his chin. He swallowed it hungrily, clutching your hips to his head, as if the evidence of your pleasure sustained him, laving at you until you squeaked and jerked from sensitivity. 

With a satisfied gasp, he released you, still stroking the sides of your hips, mouth glossy with your juices, watching with tethered emotion while you descended from your high. “As perfect as I thought you’d be.”

The cycle of anxious air in your chest slowed, and you allowed yourself to sigh, internally panicking at the level of tenderness that was trying to settle into your heart like a tired puppy. A tremor crept over you, evidence of the dangerous game your mind wanted to play. You ignored it. How horrific your desire to nurture feelings for this man, this murderer, manipulator, misogynist--how horrific that in this moment, you didn’t care. And how horrific that he’d guided you here, with his soft mouth and terrified eyes and need to hear his name.

Fuck, you hated him. And you wanted all of him, from the bottom of your accursed, wretched soul.

Ren rose, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before cupping your head, pulling you to his lips. Humming, you allowed his tongue--still coated with your cum--in your mouth, the tingling of your post-orgasm skin lapping up the physical comfort. Your legs wound around him again, your palms resting at his chest while he kissed you, his other hand petting your side before pushing your pelvis toward him, the steel urgency of his clothed erection grating your sensitive cunt.

You broke the kiss with a whine. “Kylo--”

His digits gouged your flesh, and he tensed, back swelling. “Needy thing, aren’t you?” He squeezed your ass, shoving you to his body. “We can fix that.”

Ren stepped back, keeping you attached as he moved to his chair and sat, leaving you naked, on his lap, covered cock grinding into your heat. It was automatic--you dropped your hips, seeking friction, and his hands seized your face, your fingers finding his hair. Your mouths met like magnets, your bodies writhing in rhythm, his tongue wrestling with yours as you groaned, smearing your cunt over his slacks.

His kiss was rabid, almost angry, teeth clacking, hands groping your ass, your thighs. The memory of his body from the night before blinked in your brain--you fumbled at his neck as you loosened his tie, pulling the ends apart and tossing it to the side. A moan escaped him, muffled by your mouth while you then worked at the buttons on his shirt, popping them free.

The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it, skin-on-skin sending a clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory--the strength of his breast, his firm, powerful abdomen, all of it hot with need--breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms. Your touch sent a quake through him, and he released you, trapping you in his stare while he grappled with his belt, face flush with relief when his cock sprung free. 

It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, ribcage still as he split you wide. God, you couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe you were in your Commander’s den, riding him at his desk; you’d ask to be pinched if he hadn’t done it already. You felt shameless, naked but not exposed, only exalted, only desired. 

Your fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, seeking air, and he snarled, setting a brutal pace from the very first thrust. Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs from the force of his hips, and Ren consumed you, sucking at your tits, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment--pain ripped through you, pleasure hot in its wake, foaming in your veins, an effervescent euphoria. 

“Oh, Kylo…” Now his name spilled from your lips unbidden.

He seethed, muscles rigid for only a moment. “Fuck--” 

Ren buried his face in your tits, biting the bouncing flesh, decorating you with desire. His cock pumped into you, summoning another orgasm from the bottom of your brain, and his hand wiggled between your legs, teasing your over-sensitive clit. Squealing, you squirmed on top of him. 

“Mm, I want you to cum again,” he muttered. “I want to make you cum over and over…”

“Jesus Christ…” Lava flowed through your bloodstream, scorching you from the inside.

“This is what obedient girls get...” Ren’s voice was ragged, shorn with lust. “Have you learned enough, little bird?”

You smirked. “I don’t think I have.”

With a growl, he stood, holding you on his cock with one arm as the other swept across his desk. The Bible, pens, wooden organizers stacked with paper clattered to the floor--and he slammed you on the open surface, crushing you with his weight and fucking you hard. You wailed, nails scraping his chest--this drove him wilder, and he grunted, tearing into your shoulder with his teeth. The wail became a scream, and you curled around him, cunt clamping his pulsing length as it slammed you, the rest of the world whittling to waste. You and Ren were the only extant beings on the planet, both enthralled by the unspeakable, terrible force between you.  

His fingers went to your clit again, toying with it. Ecstasy splashed at your toes, a tsunami at the horizon. “Filthy thing,” he muttered. “You love this.”

“I--I do.” Your words came out strangled through your hiccuping breath. “But y-you knew I’d love it the m-moment you met me…”

“Fuck…” The head of his dick smacked you deep, and you yelped. “That’s right--you were begging for it in your sleep.” His hips moved faster, length plunging into you. “And you’re still not satisfied.”

Satisfaction seemed foreign in the world of Gilead. But that’s not where you were, right now. You were in some other world, a world where getting fucked on a desk by a married man wasn’t the result of months of suppressed emotion.

Well, maybe that particular world didn’t exist.

“Oh--Maybe I’ll n-never be satisfied…”

“We’ll see.”

Ren threw the heft of his frame into you, pounding your pussy, sucking at your neck, his hair brushing your face. His digits rubbed at your sore, swollen clit, pleasure ricocheting through you like lightning, overriding whichever system was pleading for pause. Your face screwed in bliss, and you sobbed, witless, a body broken by the ruthless ramming of his dick. Another breath, another, heat flashed your flesh--you quailed, so fucking close--

“Do it,” he hissed. “Cum.”

A violent orgasm ruptured through your thighs, and you quailed, submitting to it, cunt convulsing, tightening around his cock. Ren choked, cursed, his hair spilling over your throat as his hips stuttered, desk creaking across the floor with the throes of his orgasm. The room itself seemed to shudder, a tremor rumbling in the hardwood until he had finished and collapsed--a spent, sated beast. 

You stared into the ceiling, lungs heaving, skin veiled with sweat and sparks. Wood snapped in the background, a shower of light cast over the room as embers sprayed into the hearth. Ren returned to reality, peeling his sticky chest from yours, glancing at himself as he rose and slipped out of you--half naked, painted in pleasure, a shining example of the results of oppression: furious, exhilarated rebellion.

Two large digits dug into your cunt, scooping out the concoction of your cum--you winced, but raised your neck, watching while he guided it into his own mouth, sucking his fingers clean. Heat raced over you, and before you could respond, he tugged you forward, catching your head and pulling you into a deep, slow, kiss. The viscous, salty mix, blended with his spit, spilled into your mouth. It was repulsive, delicious--you moaned, rolling it over your tongue before you passed it back, threading your hands through his hair. Ren sucked in a breath through his nose, swirling it a final time before forcing it over your lips, a demand for your obedience. Grateful, you swished it from your teeth and swallowed.

He pulled away, lips gleaming. Silence settled in the separation of your bodies, each staring into the other, processing the connection. Your chest constricted--shame. Yearning. Despair. His face was wiped clean of emotion, the only hint of his confusion a flicker in the shadows of his eyes. Then Ren broke away, adjusting himself back to decency. Sound returned to your ears. You could move.

“This is insane.” You weren’t sure if you were convincing him, or yourself. After all--you still had to expose him to the Resistance. “We’re going to get killed.”

Ren’s face was stone. He’d moved to buttoning his shirt. “No.”

Deciding you needed to redress, too, you eased off the desk, searching for your clothes. “No?” Underwear first. Socks. “Easy for you to say. Johana knows.” Dress, now. “Why are we doing this?”

“Why?”

You threw your hands in the air. “We can’t be together like this, Kylo.” Where the hell was your bonnet? “And the reason we can’t is by your design.”

He sniffed. “Not mine alone.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said. “Is your design to destroy Gilead?”

A pause--he glimpsed you before pulling his tie from the floor, measuring it under his collar. “No.” With practiced ease, he flipped the fabric around itself. “My design is to perfect it.”

“You can’t perfect what’s inherently broken.” You found your bonnet, started to wrap your hair and tuck it onto your head. Ren was gathering the items from the floor, replacing them on the desk. “What’s your goal, then? To--to what, have me and Johana and a baby? To fill your home with resentment?”

His jaw tensed. He pulled the tie tight, dusting off his jacket.  “My goal is to have you,” he said. “And you alone.”

You swallowed, heart clenching. “What?”

“As we agreed.” Ren turned, stalking toward you. “The system is broken. And I will correct it.” He reached out, fingers grazing your chin--you flinched. “Johana is irrelevant. You will belong to me.”

The fire seemed to have incinerated all of the oxygen in the air. You shook your head, imperceptibly. “I don’t want to belong to anybody.” 

His gaze passed over you, assessing, before he plucked the Bible from the floor, flipping through it. “Hm.” His eyes met yours. “We’ll see how you feel when our lessons are complete.” 

Ren’s hand enveloped the back of your skull as he pressed his lips to the lump at your hairline, igniting a shock of pain. “I trust you can get yourself to bed,” he murmured against your skin. “Goodnight, little bird.”

Tucking the Bible under his arm, he stopped at the fire, shuttering it to its death, then opened the doors to the home. The air of Gilead rushed in, stiff and cold, stealing the warmth from the room, extinguishing the lingering joy in your belly. You stood, listening to Ren’s footsteps down the hall, a statue until the flames in the hearth guttered, drowning you in darkness.

[beyond-the-mirror]

Red Riding Hood and the Red Devil - Dante x Reader (200 Followers Special)

Just recently I was navigating tumblr when I realized that my current follower account was already above 200 and I was like “… whaaat?”

I want to take this chance to thank you all for your support and the positive reception of my beloved works Nocturnal Encounters and Music of the Night. Your feedback DOES MEAN A LOT to me and I want to encourage you to leave as many comments as you want so I know how to keep improving myself and my writing skills. And also thank you for reading my random, spontaneous headcanons that I know you didn’t ask for but I still provided just ‘cause.

Anyways, I dedicate this story to all of you. It will be divided in three parts and let me warn you now that part two and three will be quite spicy. 👀

WIthout further ado, let’s head into this story! 

Part Two - Part Three

……….

Part One

When your neighbors entered your bistro that morning, you definitely weren’t expecting the news they were about to deliver you.

Your grandmother was shopping at the market, going on her daily routine as always, when she suddenly collapsed in the middle of the crowd. Luckily the doctors managed to give a proper diagnosis, nothing than couldn’t be cured  normally with the proper treatment and a lot of rest. The problem laid on the advanced age of your dear grandma, her weak complexion being a potential catalyst for the illness to worsen shall she not receive extensive care and attention.

She was the only family you had left, your parents died during your teenage years and she had no other children beside your mother. Hiring a personal nurse was out of question, with the medicines already taking much of your modest income. With no other option available, if someone had to step up to this task, it had to be you.

As soon as the apple pie you had baked cooled down a bit, you packed it in your basket along several other home-cooked meals and the elixir bottles the doctors prescribed. With everything properly packed, the only thing left was waiting for the carriage to arrive.

A knock on the door signaled the coachman’s arrival. Before heading out, you quickly put on your favorite cape to protect you from the chilly air outside. You had acquired it years ago as a present from your grandma, a handmade cape colored in the most vibrant and dazzling crimson you had ever seen, only the richest roses gardened with the utmost care could compare to the beautiful garment in any way. You would always wear it during fall and winter, always making sure it never got damaged or torn. Because of it, everyone you knew in the little city you lived lovingly nicknamed you ‘Red Riding Hood’.

Thanking sincerely the short staff that worked by your side, you hugged each one of them before departing, may heaven bless them for their unconditional support during this hard time of yours. As soon as they heard the news, they immediately stepped up without question, offering their total help to keep the bistro running in your place so you could focus completely in your grandmother’s treatment. They were amazing and trustworthy people, your business was indeed in rather good hands.

With one last goodbye, you climbed onto the carriage. The plan was very simple: you would stay at your grandma’s as much as she required, only returning to the city for supplies and her prescribed elixir when needed. She lived not too far away by foot, her house being at the outskirts of the neighboring village, but considering you were carrying a basket full of food and a suitcase, going by carriage was definitely the better choice.

“Everything will be fine.” You assured yourself, grasping the front of your cape as if holding on to that sense of security.

……….

“I’m sorry Miss but we can’t keep going. The road is blocked.”

“Blocked? What happened?”

You were wondering why the carriage stopped so suddenly. As you got out, the answer laid clearly right in front of you.

A rockslide was blocking the ample road ahead and stopping all travelers from going any further. It was such an odd sight, there had been no storms or earthquakes recently for the steep to be weakened to such length. Everyone present was utterly baffled, just what exactly happened here?

“I’m afraid it will take a few weeks to fix the road.” Added the coachman, his tone full of sorrow since this incident was definitely going to affect his job. “There’s nothing we can do to keep going. We must go back.”

No. You were not going back. Your grandma needed you and there’s no way you were going back. “What about the forest? If this passage surrounds it, then by walking straight from here we should eventually make it to the road again, am I correct?”

A worried expression took over the coachman. “You are indeed correct Miss, but please don’t go there. The forest is too dangerous, many people have gone missing and the locals always warn not to enter under any circumstance.”

“You are very kind sir, but my family needs me. You don’t need to come with me.” You handed him the accorded payment for his service. “Thank you for your service, you may go back to your family now.”

The old man gulped “In that case Miss, there’s something you must know if you insist on continuing.” Reaching into his leather bag, he fished out a small compass as well as a map, which he proceeded to unroll. “According to this map, the portion of the forest you need to cross is actually quite short, which means you should be able to get out in no time as long as you walk in a straight line. Please, I beg you to take this compass with you, it has a small charm embedded on the back for protection.”

The look the man was giving made it impossible for you to refuse, not to mention that the compass would definitely come in handy. After he unloaded your stuff and climbed unto his seat, you thanked the kind man once again. “Please take care Miss. I will pray for your safe return.” With those words, he bid you farewell and returned home.

……….

Red Grave Woods was quite an enigmatic and feared forest to everyone who knew about it. It may appear silent and peaceful to those who didn’t know any better, and that misjudgment almost always lead to rather tragic consequences.

You walked in a hurry across the woods, hood over your head and never once looking back. One of your hands tightly clutched the front of your cape, once in a while letting go to briefly check the compass encapsulated within its grasp. You did your best to keep a cool mind, just like the coachman mentioned ‘the portion you need to cross is actually quite short’.

‘Just a little more. Just a little more.’ You repeated mentally over and over. It would be over soon. Sooner than you thought. However, you couldn’t help but feel as if something could happen to you at any time, you knew just how vulnerable you were by going all alone into the woods.

And the pair of glowing red eyes watching over you knew it too.

In just an instant, the temperature drastically dropped, making you stop dead in your tracks. Your heart pounded in your chest so loudly that you thought it was going to explode.

Clutching your cape and the minute compass, you whispered a short prayer to try and calm yourself down. You reminded yourself ‘Don’t turn back. Whatever you do, don’t turn back.��

“You know it’s quite rude to turn your back on someone, don’t you?”

A deep distorted masculine voice had just called you from right behind, leaving a deadly silence taking over the ominous woods. Not even the wind dared howl any longer.

You stood frozen in place, refusing to look back or even acknowledge the mysterious presence behind.

“Not to mention it is straight up an offense to trespass into another’s home without an invitation. Aren’t you quite the naughty girl?”

‘Don’t look back, (Y/N). Under any circumstance, do not look back.’

“Come on little red lady. Let me see your pretty face.” His warm breath tickled the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine. Well, whoever this creature was, you might as well face him. Whatever fate you were about to meet, at least you would do it upfront.

Very slowly did you turn. “Ahhh there she is!”

You kept your eyes closed as you faced him, until you finished gathering enough courage to finally flutter them open. Before you stood a tall anthropomorphic creature, a man covered head to toe in a dark scaly armor with a burst of red energy on the center of his chest, magma rivers traveling along the cracks between the many scales and ridges of his body. He had a set of thick red wings curled down and bellow his arms, resembling a coat of sorts. Four red horns protruded from his head backwards, accompanied by a set of short white spikes on top of his head and another bellow his chin. His blood red eyes were fixated on you, and his lips formed a smirk that revealed two rows of sharp fangs.

This demon towered over you, he could easily toy with you and crush you like an ant whenever and however he wanted, yet he simply stood there staring at your form.

“What do you want?” you inquired the beast, trying your best not to show any weakness or hint of fear.

The demon chuckled at your false bravado. “I should be the one making that question. Didn’t your parents teach you not to play in the scary woods? A big bad wolf could attack and gobble you up in one single bite, or should I say a big bad devil?”

Was he being playful? By his mocking tone you concluded that he was merely toying with you like a cat would a mouse, and oh how that infuriated you so.

“I’m afraid I do not have time to humor a stranger. I have an urgent matter to attend to, so whatever it is that you want with me you will tell me right now.”

“Oooh a feisty one.” Truth be told, he was impressed with your attitude. No wonder you had caught his eye, you were definitely entertaining him. “But sadly that won’t do you much help, oh no.”

The demon circled you, scrutinizing you with his glaring eyes. “And what is that supposed to mean?” You followed him with yours, not trusting him enough with your back towards him.

The creature hummed “This forest consumes, my little red lady. Many, many horrors have made this place their home; shadows who love preying on the innocent, especially on little innocent girls playing in the woods. Oh, how they love those in particular.”

“And let me guess. You are one of those horrors.”

His chest rumbled with laughter “Actually, this is your lucky day little one. For it turns out, I may just be the kindest demon you will ever encounter in this cruel world.” The devil gave a dramatic bow to you, his ruby eyes staring at you before giving you a charming wink.

You huffed at the devil’s strange demeanor. There was nothing trustworthy about him, but it’s not like you could run away easily. The best course of action would be indulging him in this game of his, only then perhaps you’ll find a small chance to survive.

The red devil took notice on the way you kept your basket close to you, and he wondered the reason why. A short breeze blew, and the red devil was no longer in front of you.

“Now I’m curious to know what do you keep in this thing of yours. Whatever it is, it smells delicious!” His voice was now behind you, and in his hands he held… your basket! But how? When did he-?

The demon sniffed as he held your basket to his face. He could make out the rich aroma of fruits, herbs and spices; his mouth watering at the positively delicious food inside.

“Hey! Give that back right now!” You immediately tried snatching it back, only for him to lift it beyond your arms reach thanks to his incredible height. He simply ignored your struggling form and opened the lid, and sure there were several kinds of prepared meals that looked utterly delightful. Herb-crusted pork loin, sweet apple pie, homemade pizza (his favorite human food, and with no olives! ) and… suspicious-looking purple bottles? He picked one of those with a clawed hand to examine it up close.

“Huh. What do you keep in this weird bottles eh? They smell kinda funny.”

Before he could possibly break them, you managed to snag the one he was holding. “Those are elixirs! Now unhand that basket this exact moment!”

“An elixir… What do you need this medicine for?”

He watched the way you frowned, eyes now with a hint of worry. “My grandmother… she’s terribly ill. She’s the only family I have left. I need to take care of her, otherwise she…” No. Now was not the time for tears. Show no weakness in the presence of a demon.

To your surprise, the red devil actually returned your basket, with him now knowing the reason why you were walking so hurriedly before.

“Why are you holding your tears, little one?”

By the time you realized, the mysterious creature was now kneeling before you, one of his claws gently catching a stray tear that managed to escape your eye. Despite being an entity of fire, brimstone and flames, the warmth he emitted wasn’t scorching, on the contrary, it was inviting and comforting.

“Because sitting and crying won’t make a difference, it won’t save my grandma. I must stay strong and keep moving forward.” It was hard, but you managed to keep your composure.

The red devil hummed, his chest rumbling and purring. “Let me offer you a deal then.” He got back on his feet before continuing. “I shall be your guide and guardian in this forest so you can make it to your grandma’s house unscathed and with no unsolicited attacks from the local demons. How’s that?”

You quirked an eyebrow towards him. He was willing to what now? “What? You’re giving me your protection just like that? Surely there’s something you want in return considering how cunning and deceiving your kind is.” He may seem nice, but there was no way he would offer something without expecting an exchange for another, it’s how demons were and always will be.

“And you are absolutely correct about that, little red lady, very insightful indeed. Now now, what could I possibly ask from you? Mmm…” with a finger on his lips, the creature made a show of pondering his request. A snap of his fingers signaled that he had made up his mind. “Got it! Actually it’s something really simple, but very fun.”

He came closer to you, hooking a clawed finger under your chin and tilting your head upwards so you could meet his gaze. “How about…” he leaned down, his breath fanning over your lips. “… a kiss?”

You immediately pulled away, a crimson blush bright on your cheeks and nose tip. How dare he make advances on you? And during the dire situation you were going through?

The demon simply laughed at your reaction, amused by the indignant scowl you were giving him. “C’mon little one, it’s only a tiny peck I’ll be giving you. It could be on your cheek, if you are feeling unsure about it.” Another wink from him. Was this creature for real?

“Ugh! You sly devil.” Such insolence! It seemed that this little game of his would not stop… yet you remembered what you told yourself before, the best course of action is to indulge this demon for better chances at survival. “… Fine. Just go ahead.”

His smirk evolved into a full wolfish grin and once again, he towered over you while you did your best to avoid his eyes. First he leaned down, taking his time to smell your scent. It was sweet, intoxicatingly so, with floral hints then and there. After a few seconds of silence, you felt his lips press against the flushed skin of your cheek. They were surprisingly soft and plump, staying there for what felt like an eternity. When he pulled away, you almost missed his warmth and proximity.

“There. It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Your blush deepened. No, it definitely wasn’t so bad after all.

“So. If we are about to continue together, I think it’s only fair you give me your name. I want to know who is my traveling companion this nice morning.”

This time it was you who smirked. “Only if you tell me yours first. Since I’m obviously at a disadvantage, if I give you my name now, it would only grant you even more power over me. You go first.”

“Not bad, little red lady. Not bad at all.” Oh you were incredibly smart, the oldest tricks in the demon book would definitely not work with you. He had just met you and he already liked you, his intuition was right when he witnessed you entering the forest with determination in your steps.

“You may call me Dante.” He took one of your hands, lifting it to his lips and placing a soft kiss at your knuckles. “How should I call you, little red riding hood?”

You smiled at him, this time it was a sincere genuine smile “You may call me (Y/N).”

[volganic]

Song of the Dragon

big shoutout to liz for giving me this idea since we were talking about whether or not volga would play an instrument because boy do we love some dragon sirens

obv this is part 1 of however many i feel like writing which i am unsure of but!!! its a start and slowly building to volink i promise

song is based on this because im uncreative and i dont know how to write in hylian im sorry

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

The word of the usually docile lizard tribes rampaging across the villages near the base of the mountain spread like wildfire, which is how Link found himself within the darkest caverns of Eldin Caves.  He was appointed by the princess herself to find the cause of why the lizaflos and dinolfos were terrorizing the villages on the borders of Hyrule; they were practically defenseless against the onslaught from the reptiles, and losing their allegiance was not an option.  Going off the rumors and stories he had heard from the townspeople affected by the attacks -- and even members of his own army who have had prior experiences -- it seemed like his chance to prove himself to the army of earning not only the title "Captain", but "Hero".

He didn't quite feel like a hero right in this moment. Something was off.

"They're scary, but the lizards are nothing compared to their largest and in charge, the red one!" "With a single roar, the red dragon could cause a landslide -- no -- an earthquake!  It can shake the whole mountain!" "What if wakes the dormant volcano of Death Mountain?  What happens to the village then?"

Link wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand as he reminded himself there was a good reason to brave the heat.  It wasn't just hot in the caves -- it was boiling.  The hero realized he wasn't as well equipped to venture into the caves as he believed he was.  Sadly he had left his companion fairy (and his only voice of reason) back at camp.  Proxi wouldn't have fared any better than he was right now.

Luckily for him, there weren't as many of the lizard foes straggling about inside the caves as he had imagined compared to the few he had seen at the entrance.  Or was it that he had missed them?  The first few were probably there to prevent intruders, seeing as no one (except a hero) would be foolish to enter the caves.  The entry opened into several tunnels, which seemed to open like a hellish labyrinth.  He couldn't really be lost already, right? "The caves are mostly undocumented, as no one has returned to accurately map out their paths for the scholarly archives," Impa warned him.  The princess laid a hand on his shoulder in support, a small smile pulling at the end of her lips. "You will be going in blind, but with the blessings of the goddesses at your disposal, we believe you can bring peace to the villages below." "Some blessings,"  he thought to himself as he made another turn around from a long corridor. He had silently prayed he had made some sort of progress for heading deeper into the caverns and away from the heat, but he was only met with the same pools of lava he had seen before countless times.  He paled as the unforgiving heat radiating from it only confirmed his worst fears -- he was definitely, and thoroughly, lost. The Hylian was sure the scream that bubbled in his throat would have rivaled the supposed dragon's if he had the strength to let it escape from his lips.  He kicked the earth underneath his boots in a fit of frustration before lowering himself into a crouch, pulling his knees to his chest.  It was futile task with all of his luck turned against him.  Without so much as a decent map or an indicator of how much time has passed, Link wasn't sure how long he had been battling against the heat; all he knows is that it was slowly starting to break him.  Even another dead end would have been better than staring at the endless pit in front of him. The bubbling magma seemed to taunt him while he pulled the sticky scarf from around his neck.  It was only a few meters away, but temperature was unrelenting and making the tunic he wore slowly stick to him uncomfortably like a new layer of skin.  He squeezed his eyes shut to prevent the beads of sweat trickling down his brow from blurring his vision as he dug his fingers into his hair.  This wasn't the time to panic.  Leaders, captains, heroes don't panic!  He urged himself to breathe slowly; inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth in an attempt to calm himself.   "The goddesses are on my side," he reminded himself quietly, flexing the fingers on his left hand.  "They aren't cruel enough to let me die in a cave.  They chose me!  They've given me this chance to save others for the greater good.  I just need a sign!"

æ d   ɪ d ə m   æ d   ɪ n f ɪ n ɪ t ə m

The goddesses must have heard the captain's prayer.  As if on cue, a low sound ripped through the silence of the bubbling rivers of lava.  Link stilled to listen closely while the sound reverberated off the walls.  It sent a shiver up his spine.

"As I've heard it from generations past, there's a dragon that lives in the Caves of Eldin that possesses the tongue of man.  It still roars like a beast, but capable of speech, and even song!"  The soldiers laughed at their fellow knight.  Another soldier joined in.  "I remember this! I heard that it lures those who get lost in the caves to their deaths with its song." He nodded in agreement with the knight while the others' laughter became silent.  "It's got to be a cunning predator to lure even the bravest of men with a false sense of security.  If the lizards don't get you, it will!"

The goddesses are surely playing a sick joke on him.  Link's blood ran cold as his ears strained to listen for the sound as it had gone silent again.  This couldn't be the dragon that he had heard many fables about, could it?  He could only hear the sound of his heart thrumming in his ears as he tried to convince himself that it wasn't the same dragon.  With the little knowledge he did have of them, Link was sure they weren't very fond of sharing the same territory together, much less a labyrinth of caves.

æ d   ɪ n f ɪ n ɪ t ə m ɪ n   m e m ɔ: r ɪə m  

After finally taking a minute to collect himself (when was he holding his breath?), Link willed himself to bring himself to stand despite his limbs protesting, fighting him to stay frozen in place.  He had asked for a sign; this was no doubt his only chance of getting closer to finding out why the villages were being targeted.  He swallowed thickly as he trudged back along one of the tunnels leading out of the central chamber.  The adrenaline was running coldly in his veins, but the back of his left hand burned as he ran his fingers over the walls of rock.  

k   ʌ n ʌ m  

The heat slowly was starting to melt away as the scenery changed around him; sheets of bright red rock slowly turned cool to the touch, colored obsidian.  Stalagmites turned to stalactites, hanging low from the ceiling and nearly grazing the top of his head.  It had gotten a lot darker he soon realized he wasn't staring at searing lava.  Instead, the soft luminous glow of blue crystal formations provided him with an odd sense of comfort.  The cavern was at least a tolerable temperature now, but his hand still burned with an intensity that kept pushing him forward.  

v aɪ   i: t   ɑ: m ɪ s

The song was becoming less of an echo and more of a clearer sound.  It was chilling to the bone with the ghostly whispers filling his ears.  He would have believed there were many voices than just one if he were none the wiser.  The haunting notes rivaled the beautiful sound.

Link paused as the ominous tune came to another stop. The tunnel looked to open into another large cavern of crystals that shone brighter than the ones pressed against his back.  The Hylian listened closely for any sort of sound.  He was only gifted with a few seconds of peace before the screech of sharpened metal scraped against the earth.  The Triforce began to burn through the leather of his gauntlet as Link quickly rounded the corner, drawing his blade to take down the beast.

Another pause.

This was no beast.  It was a man.  No other ordinary human could have survived the heat for this long, he mused. His brows knit together in concern as he kept the blade drawn and pointed at the stranger, whose back was turned to him.  

v eɪ l 

A low chuckled filled the room as the Hylian faltered a bit as realization struck through him.  The man turned, pike in hand, and stared him down from underneath the brim of his helmet.  He grinned with too many pointed teeth.

"Have you come to strike me down, boy?"

[toasttz]

From the Tabletop #9

Welcome back. Let's talk about Exalted again! Last time, our new team had assembled and-- oh, right, I totally forgot we had a fifth Exalt. We have Zatch. Zatch is basically if you fused Albin and Rakis, I guess? But due to a change in work schedule, he's barely gotten to play with us. So, maybe we'll get to talk more about him later. He's Volkenstein's successor character, and it seems like his player has a good beat on him. Just real-life issues is all. Right, so, we were in need of some traveling funds, so we took on a job that was perfect for us - hunting a wild beast! No moral ambiguity or broken kneecaps required! So, we set out into the fields to find this dinosaur-like monster we needed to take down. En route, we discuss if there were any last-minute actions or supplies required. Doran: I could use a drink, frankly. Albin (OoC): I roll introduce fact. There are, in fact, large lizard creatures who naturally produce a form of booze in their stomach from the fermented fruit they eat. GM: Yeah. Okay. They're called Keggers. They are barrel-chested lizard creatures. You eat one, you're definitely getting drink. Doran: Glorious. Proceed the circle of three Solars and a Lunar all repeatedly failing their perception checks. GM: Guys, I think you're hunting an Indominus Rex, since its stealth rolls... well, let's just say you guys shouldn't be having this hard of a time of it. Suddenly, a big-ass dinosaur was upon us and we scattered around to combat it. Each of us defaulted to our usual combat tactics: Rakis mounted Wormsworth, Doran readied his sword, Albin prepped his Prayer Piece rifle, and Kharas... immediately mounted it. This created a little, brief, inter-party tension as Albin readied his flame-thrower rifle at the dinosaur. Kharas: Hey, wait a sec! You might hit me! Albin: I never miss. Kharas: I'M STILL UP HERE! GM: Roll attack. Albin: *Rolls freakishly well.* GM: Congrats, you don't hit Kharas. Kharas: You singed off my eyebrows! GM: You're in warform. You don't currently have those. Kharas: ... IF I DID, YOU'D HAVE BURNED MY EYEBROWS OFF! Ultimately, with a little coordination, the dino went down. We then proceeded to carve it up for its hide, meat, and a couple of us even took trophies. We even made "metric craptons" of dino-jerky, which we sold for a tidy profit, insofar as we couldn't bring it all back ALA Oregon Trail. But the dino hunt went well all-in-all. Afterwards, we realized we need to head towards Great Forks, but then had to find a way to cross a river. The ferry was our best bet, but money had gotten tight and we had to have a way to bring Wormsworth. Kharas attempted a rather clever gambit of disguising himself as a noble and forcing the issue, but the captain of the vessel was stern. Ultimately, we agreed to pay a price once we had arrived, which settled things, as Albin had done business previously with one Master of the Eternal Golden Paradise - a young philanthropist and patron of the arts and sciences. And Kharas, using Twin-Faced Hero, managed to "persuade" Master to paying their way, if you get my drift. Later, Kharas would use this as leverage against Albin, demanding a cool leather jacket. Albin and Doran worked together to make a badass leather coat for him, under the proviso it would have enough belts, pouches, and zippers to qualify him for a modern-day Squeenix character. Kharas happily agreed. Arrival at Great Forks more or less went off without a hitch (barring a gang of roving youths who attempted to sell Albin and Doran cutlery. I legit have no idea what to say on that and thus, will just move on). We even got to meet Teddy, one of the Giakell triplets (of which Albin is one member). Teddy is a huge, mountain of a man, quick to laugh, but became concerned when Albin mentioned that what they were doing was effectively hunting down serial killers. Teddy advised Albin to be careful in this pursuit, and Kharas, Rakis, and Doran played with the many, many nephews and nieces Albin had been blessed with due to his brother's undying love of his wife. Eventually, a lead with the guild took the circle down to the docks - whereupon I missed a good part of the conversation due to going to make popcorn and grab a soda. I return to hear Rakis explaining, at great length, how plan to BURN DOWN THE ENTIRE DOCK so we could investigate a ship belonging to a rich, now MIA, man who may well be tied to the mob of killers we've been after this whole time. Albin quickly shoots this plan down, insisting that there's no need to set fire to his hometown for something as straight-forward as this. Eventually, we also realize we could just have Kharas transform into a crane and inspect the ship anyway, as he did when he investigated the man's house as a cat. Let it be said - Rakis doesn't do things by halves. Eventually, clues began taking us north, so we bid farewell to Albin's hometown in order to cross the Yellow River. Albin then explains that there's an underground road they could use, leading to a trading town, partway across - called Yellow Shower - because I was really abusing "Introduce Fact" rolls this game and I am, in fact, 13 years old at heart. There, we even got to meet Albin's sister, Simone, who married a nobleman of the town, and we got to bum a free meal off them before we departed. We did fart around in Yellow Shower a while, but honestly, not much came of it. I also introduced facts about a local booze, Sewer Brue, a potent concoction sure to put you on the toilet for some time after drinking it, and that Yellow Shower was plagued by platypi, native to the region. Kharas took the chance to hunt one, in order to add it to his heart's blood. The platypus, not the drink. On the other side, however, all sorts of Hell broke loose, as Kharas, once more, became a bird and attempted to survey the above-ground scene, just in time to be fired upon by local hunters. He zipped back to the ground and transformed into a platypus in order to hide. Kharas: *SCARED PLATYPUS NOISES* We then asked the hunters for some advice as to where to go next, which ultimately sent us in the direction of a cave, which we spent... entirely too long standing outside of, debating if this was some "Cave of Wonders" shit and would slam down and kill us all if we ventured in. But ultimately, we headed in, and were immediately beset upon by a lesser fairy, who Albin and Rakis straight up merc'd without much hesitation. Afterward, we ventured further down, whereupon we found a cleft in the rock. And this happened: Doran: I guess I'll have a look and see what's down there. I have a merit where I naturally resist hot environments. GM: Yes, but if it's magma, you'll still suffer environmental damage. ... Hey, wait, didn't you write that Doran will die in boiling magma last time? Albin: Oh, crap. Doran: ... Okay, I'm going to have a look, but you're going to hold onto me and at the first sign of trouble, you're going to pull me back from it. Albin: Can do. Thankfully, Doran did NOT die in boiling magma and I was forced to sign a blood oath that I would not erroneously clickbait again. However, legit clickbaiting is A-OK! Moving on, eventually, we found a ways down, deeper into the cave. Rakis and Kharas both had ways of getting down, but the less-athletics-based Doran and Albin did not. And they also met a spirit flame serpent thing that apparently brews really good tea. Rakis then returned to try to help the others down, leaping up and easily getting Albin down safely. However, his return trip was a little less successful, as he ultimately dropped Doran on his face. On the upside, I finally got to roll those medicine dots I've had since I started this campaign. So there's that. Afterwards, we moved further in and found a colossal forge and its guardian - a four-armed giant creature who was quite talkative, but spoke in riddles. Doran and Albin questioned him for a while, and deduced he was no threat. He also helpfully proposed that Moonsilver could be used to bind the cursed aspects of Doran's artifact blade. We also disposed of the cursed Soulsteel garrot wire with help from the giant and his forge to completely destroy it. Doran: Well, I guess that's one cursed artifact down now. After tiring of bothering the giant (who was definitely talking about the Alchemicals and Autochthon, but I only knew that in the meta-sense and, thus, couldn't act on it in-character), we opted to try the last doorway available to us. Whereupon, all four of our circlemates throw lousy strength rolls, barely budging the door. Rakis then summoned Wormsworth, who easily threw the doors open on our behalf. Albin: I think it says something when a circle of Exalts failed to budge the door, but Wormsworth just did it no sweat. Kharas: Shut up. So, we went down into the mines whereupon we realized, Sol dammit, we HAD Moonsilver the entire time - the hammer Albin bought for Rakis back in session 2 was a Moonsilver weapon! So, we decide to do what you should never do in a party and split the party. Albin and Doran returned with the hammer to the giant's forge to ask for his assistance while Rakis and Kharas moved deeper into the mines in order to find what was down there. Albin and Doran use a crap-ton of craft charms and bond over their mutual tasks together over the last few sessions (moving each other up from Minor to Major intimacies as close friends), while Kharas and Rakis get ambushed by brigands deep in the mine and they proceed to kill the shit out of a lot of dudes. Kharas, at the end of the battle, began interrogating one of their number and the following happens. Kharas: Alright, you told me what I need to know. Get out of my sight. Random Baddie: *Gets up, flees* Rakis: By the way, Wormsworth just burrows out of the ground and eats the fleeing guy. Kharas: DUDE! I was actually going to let him live! Rakis: *SHRUG*. So, don't mess with Rakis, I suppose is the lesson here. Join me next time for D&D, because I currently have no more Exalted to talk about for a while! We're all caught up. Next time, in D&D: we meet dwarves! We meet demon cultists! We kill kobolds! See you there!

[opalgelance]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT BATTLE OF HEART AND MIND WAS A LITERAL MIND FUCK

- WHITE DECOLORING GEMS

- THE DIAMOND FAMILY WAS REALLY FUCKED UP

- WHITE FUCKING BROKE STEVEN AND PINK LOST HER FUCKING MIND

- ROSE CAN NEVER COME BACK

- EVERY CRYSTAL GEM HAS A NEW OUTFIT I HAVE NO FAVORITE BECAUSE I LOVED THEM ALL

- EVERY CG + STEVEN FUSION WAS STUFFED IN HERE AS WELL AS MY TIED FOR FAVORITE WITH OPAL FUSION, OBSIDIAN

- FUCKING LAVA FUSION I LOVE HER SO MUCH THE CRACKS IN HER HAIR AND HER MAGMA SPIT THAT BECAME A FUCKING SWORD KILLED ME

- RAINBOW FEELS VERY FAMILIAR WHO VOICES THEM???

- SUNSHINE IS LEGIT A LOVE YOURSELF COMMERCIAL FROM THE 90S IN A CORPOREAL FORM

- FUCKING PINK STEVEN STILL SCARES THE EVER LOVING SHIT OUT OF ME HOLY FUCK

- WHITE HAS A WHOLE CHARACTER ARC IN 5 MINUTES

- SO DO BLUE AND YELLOW

- JASPER NEVER FUCKING TALKS BUT

- WE SEE A WHOLE FUCK TON OF GEM DESIGNS INCLUDING JASPER, BIGGS, CENTIPEEDLE, THE BEETLES, THE PUFFERFISH, AND A LOT MORE

- IM STILL NOT OVER THE PINK STEVEN THING IT WILL LEGITAMaTELY HAUNT ME FOREVER

- EDIT: I forgot to add how mindblowing the animation is in the Pink Steven scene?!?! I was just so stunned by the scene itself that I didn’t mention that the lines are SO clean and crisp, and the animation literally looks 3D, and that seems to be because the legendary James Baxter did it, and from what I saw from his work on the Adventure Time episode, he’s an absolute master in the art of animation, and I feel like I’ve been blessed seeing that animation with my own damn eyes

Ok, now that I’ve calmed down a bit, I have to say it felt really REALLY rushed but I still enjoyed it a lot! I do have a few gripes with it though:

- I wish we could have seen Sunstone, Rainbow 2.0, and Obsidian before this, or at the very least seen Sun and Rainbow before, with Obsidian being this big stressful event because as we’ve seen 4+ Gem fusions like Alexandrite can be very hard to keep stable, and they had one chance to fuse and keep it together

- Steven said one sentence to Pink Pearl, and White didn’t recognize CG Pearl, which is really weird. Pink didn’t even react to Steven, or realize that he had Pink’s Gem. We don’t learn what happened to Pink Pearl either. Steven seems to already have connected that White’s Pearl was once Pink’s, and when talking to White, it seems like he is understanding what his Pink dreams really meant, which is weird bc it seemed like he didn’t understand that they were memories before.

- I felt like with the exception of the Pink Steven scene, the Diamond fight at the very beginning and the confrontation between all 4 Diamonds, it didn’t really feel like the characters were reacting as much as they should have? Like, it takes a second for Pearl to figure out that she and Steven fused, and her reaction is kind of cut off, but Garnet doesn’t really react to fusing with Steven? I also feel like Obsidian should have been a bigger deal to everyone, but it felt like Garnet was like “ok, lets form obsidian then” like they’ve done it a thousand times?? Yeah, they’ve fused with Rose before, but Steven? And Alexandrite has always been a big deal, since she’s so unstable, while on multiple occasions in season 1 the Gems were pretty clear that fusion was for emergencies only. Obsidian is literally a White Diamond only level emergency, but while it was a big deal for the audience, the CGs (including Connie, Bismuth, Lapis, and Peridot)  weren’t as shocked by this as I would have thought? Peridot says “they’re huge!” or smth like that, but not much else. For me it was really frustrating when Blue and Yellow, and ESPECIALLY Amethyst, Garnet, and Pearl, were drained of their color, it felt like it SHOULD have been a Keeping It Together level of horror, but it wasn’t on the characters’ faces, which was disappointing. It took me out of the action on my first viewing because it looked like the CGs weren’t that bothered by it. WHITE IS LITERALLY MIND CONTROLLING THE DIAMONDS AND YOUR FAMILY STEVEN WHAT THE FUCK I have to say that the Pink Steven scene was legitimately disturbing, and I applaud the storyboarders for that, I just wish it could’ve continued throughout all of the horrifying scenes.

- Steven didn’t tell anyone about his Gem being ripped out, possibly because there wasn’t any time left in the episode, and that was really weird to me. Like, you got HALF OF YOUR SOUL RIPPED OUT STEVEN. Like, White and Connie HAD to have said something, right? Was it just not shown?

- That brings me to how ridiculously rushed the ending was, because here’s what happens in the last 5 or so minutes (seriously, I’m looking at the time the ending starts)

      - Steven gets home while Sadie’s having a concert on the beach

     - WITH THE FUCKING DIAMONDS

    - Lars also gets home with the Off Colors

    - Sadie and Lars say hi for an awkward amount of screentime

    - THE DIAMONDS HEAL THE CORRUPTED GEMS INCLUDING JASPER, CENTIPEEDLE AND A LOT OF THE GEMS WE’VE SEEN OVER THE SERIES AND THERES NO DIALOGUE BC STEVEN IS SINGING A SONG OVER THIS WHOLE PART

     - The Diamonds leave, seriously, after less than a minute of screentime on Earth

    - The CGs are on the beach, with NO recently cured corrupted Gems to be seen, and it’s kind of like the theme song, with Greg grilling hot dogs, and the CGs sit on the beach with Steven (just Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl now) and Steven sings a song. The End.

It just felt really rushed? So were the Diamonds’ “redemptions”, but this was insane. Every plot line in the whole series is supposed to be solved in 5 minutes? I mean, there’s a lot left unanswered, but it felt like they were trying to tie everything up with a nice bow, and it was rushed. Also, you know how everyone said that the Gem designs at the ball were lazy and that we only saw a few new Gem types because the crew didn’t have time to design new Gems? (I personally really liked the cog Gems bc I love gear designs but I know a lot of people didn’t like them and that’s valid) BULLSHIT LOOK AT ALL OF THE UNCORRUPTED GEM DESIGNS THEY LOOK AWESOME. But why could they not have done that before? They designed at least 10 new Gems for a minute or two long scene. Yeah, they were based on the already done corrupted Gem designs, but that’s fine! We could have easily seen Ocean and Biggs Jaspers at the ball, or even at the Zoo, in a flashback (like We’re Only Falling Apart, the war scene in Single Pale Rose, Your Mother and Mine), the ending of Legs From Here to Homeworld, but we didn’t, and I can’t understand why. Now it’s strange that we didn’t see any uncorrupted counterparts on Homeworld. What, is every single corrupted Gem part of a super rare Gem type? Yes, we’ve SEEN Jaspers before, and we HEARD about Nephrites, but even at the start of this episode we had some cool silhouettes of Gems, just like in The Answer, and they were never fleshed out into actual Gems. It’s just kind of strange that they had all of these templates but never used them. Plenty of fans have used the silhouettes and corrupted Gem designs to make Gemsonas, but the crew couldn’t? Just paste the color palette of Biggs or Ocean onto a Jasper base and you’re good! That’s essentially what happened this episode but I STILL LOVE THEM SO MUCH I will protect Ocean, the Beetle, the Centipeedles and the waterbear Gem with my life, BUT they could have appeared MUCH sooner as background Homeworld Gems

- EDIT: Since I’m always criticizing the animation and character models, I feel like I have to note how impressed I am with a majority of the animation in this episode. I felt like during the Blue vs. Yellow scene in particular though, Yellow’s expressions felt... odd. LET ME EXPLAIN FIRST PLEASE. See, for me, while I don’t like exaggerated facial expressions most of the time, I can get past them as long as it’s for comedy relief or to express raw emotion. The problem for me was that Yellow’s expressions were drawn as if she was supposed to be in a comedic scene instead of a heartwrenching, emotional outbreak uncharacteristic of Yellow, where you are supposed to feel with her, to feel her pain. But for me, it felt like she was pulling faces like she was trying to make a crying baby laugh, and I felt like Patti Lupone’s expressive, heart-wrenching voice acting didn’t match up with what I was seeing on the screen. 

  - As I said above, James Baxter’s Pink Steven animation slayed me, I’m still dying haaa

   - OBSIDIAN WAS THE BOMB/COM THO her hair is so amazingly detailed, it had to be hard to animate that.

  - Most of the lines were crisp. One of my main criticisms is how starting in season 3, while the animation and art quality went down, both were hindered further by the blurry lines, which I KNOW is because they resized the art. When I’m resizing an arm, or the head when it’s out of proportion, the resized lines become blurry whether you’re shrinking or expanding a section of a piece. But in this episode the lines were pretty crisp for probably 80% percent of the episode? And I’m counting all 44 minutes, and considering how bad it usually is, I’m very pleased.

tl;dr I LOVE THESE EPISODES TO HOMEWORLD AND BACK but there are a few issues I just can’t see past and some of these issues just threw me out of a great episode to ask myself why??? But also I’ve rekindled my love for Steven Universe and FOR ONCE I can see past some of the bad character models and animation because this episode was just so good!!! 

[danfanciesphil]

omg i missed prompts evening IF U STILL WANT ONE THEN i am dying for a dan pov version of his bday when phil is flirting with adam and then cat turns up and then phil falling asleep beside him thank

true fame is when u get anons requesting fanfiction of your own fanfic lmfao

BLESS YOU AND ALL OF YOUR WORLDLY POSSESSIONS FOR THIS PROMPT ILYSM

Context: For this to make any sense you need to have read chapter 5 of my fic Birthday Sex

Got a prompt for me? Click here! (Please be aware that due to an abundance of prompts, your prompt may take a few days to complete - but thank you all for submitting so far!)

This is the worst one yet. 

Their birthdays, whilst exciting, are typically turbulent in nature nowadays. Dan can never quite predict what will happen each time, or how bad the aftermath will be.

He swallows, one hand still clasped in between both of Phil’s, their heads on the same pillow. 

This is, by far, the worst it’s been since they began this whole mad affair, and it isn’t even morning yet. The fallout of this birthday - Dan’s 22nd - is likely to be catastrophic. No pun intended. 

He shuts his eyes against this thought, not wanting to think about the girl lying on the other side of this wall, oblivious and sound asleep. Ignorant of the terrible thing Dan has just done. 

It started out okay, this time. Phil’s twenty-sixth back in January had aged them both in a way their accumulating birthdays have failed to do thus far. Phil had been so angry. Dan had been so stupid, so blind, to think that he wouldn’t be. 

But they’d apologised and moved on, trying to forget the whole thing, and Dan had foolishly believed that this time, it would be better. That it would be a happier event. They have their safeword now, and their rules have expanded. 

What could go wrong?

It turns out, a lot can go wrong, and rather quickly. It just seemed to spiral out of control. Dan had kicked off the party with high spirits, laughing and joking about with his close friends. 

He’d forgotten about the monster inside of him. He hasn’t seen it in a while, after all. It had hidden itself deep in the cavern of Dan’s insecurity a few years back, keeping quiet whilst Dan insisted he didn’t care about Phil, about romance, about anything. 

Honestly, Dan thought the monster may have died of starvation. He wasn’t exactly keeping it well-fed. Besides, it never showed its face when guys flirted with Cat, which they did - do - often. Dan just doesn’t care. She’d never do anything with anyone else anyway, he knows, but it’s not even really about that. 

He just doesn’t mind it the way he used to. 

The monster doesn’t bother him in situations involving her. Not like it used to do, when people would try and steal Phil’s attention. 

He should’ve known. He should’ve forseen it. He should have realised that the jealousy-monster wasn’t dead. It was dormant. And it was starving. 

It doesn’t make sense, even to him, that he hung Adam of all people out to dry. 

Adam was here, staying in this flat, for three months last autumn, and the idea of him eyeing up Phil barely even crossed Dan’s mind. 

Well... perhaps the thought may have struck him occasionally. Usually when he watched the two of them talk like old friends, the way they are perfectly entitled to do - because they are old friends. 

Phil shifts in his slumber, sighing. Dan holds his breath, praying Phil doesn’t wake up again. He can still see the tear tracks on Phil’s cheeks, illuminated by the light of the moon streaming in through the window. 

Poor Adam, Dan thinks, guilt washing over his body. He didn’t have a clue what he was getting himself into tonight. None of it was deserved. It’s Dan who has created this horror show. He and Phil, really. Nobody else should be forced to be a part of it. 

That’s not even the worst part, though. 

Sure, Phil had been angry about the Adam thing. Of course he was. It was absurd, wild, crazy behaviour that Dan exhibited tonight. He could even see how insane it was as he was doing it. He could feel the monster choking him with its long claws, coiling itself around each of his limbs, wrapping itself around his tongue until it walked for him, spoke for him, shouted for him, acted for him. 

Dan - the sane, intelligent Dan - was locked at the back of his mind, hammering on the bars of the cage in which the monster had sealed him, pleading with it to stop, to be rational, to just think. 

But despite all of this, Phil had been prepared to forgive him. Dan had said terrible things to him all night long. He’d accused Phil of actively attempting to hurt him. He’d blamed Phil for the arguing, for the pain, for all the negative emotions attached to their broken relationship, and he’d taken it all without complaint. 

After Dan had said those unspeakable, unfair things to Adam, Phil had walked right into his room, as calm as ever, and told him it was all okay. Dan had screamed and hit him, he’d wanted to choke Phil for dangling Adam in front of him so cruelly, despite the hypocrisy of it. 

And Phil had just kissed him, gentle and slow. 

It had been torturous, because it was so, so exactly what Dan needed. How could he possibly have known? How can he be so in tune with Dan’s emotions that he sees right through the barricades, straight into Dan’s soul? 

In a more perfect world - maybe a world where Dan’s karmic retribution was a little more positive - the night might have ended here. He and Phil might have made love, passionately, desperately, indulging in one another the way they’re supposed to on these nights, releasing their pent-up angst into each other’s bodies, until they get the opportunity to do it again in six months time. 

And then Cat arrived. 

If you asked Dan what heartbreak looked like, he’d say the look on Phil’s face when he said goodnight earlier. The way his eyes dragged over the sight of Dan’s arm draped across her shoulder. The clench of his fist as he walked out the door, struggling to keep himself together until he was alone. 

He can’t imagine anything crueller than what he’s done to Phil this evening. He is a wicked, selfish brat. He loathes himself for it. He hates every cell of his stupid, weak body for being so predictably terrible. 

And he knows, he knows, that he’ll do it again. 

He’ll keep doing it until Phil can’t anymore. Until he’s too broken apart to fix himself. Dan will take and take and take, because giving is much too hard. He doesn’t know how anymore. There are massive, gaping holes inside of him, stretching across the islands of what little emotion he has left. 

Phil has so much warmth. He fills Dan’s gaps. He smooths Dan’s edges. He makes him feel whole. 

Dan felt it tonight, as Phil slipped inside of him. He felt it as Phil poured the love over him, warm and thick, like magma, crawling under Dan’s skin and flooding his empty, cavernous body. 

Phil cried, but that’s nothing new. Dan cried too, but later. After Phil fell asleep. 

He’s going to have to leave this bed soon, Dan thinks, despising his own thoughts. Cat might be a little ditzy, but she’s not completely stupid. She’ll notice if he’s not there, beside her, when the sun finally emerges over the horizon, putting this day to rest at last. 

Dan pulls his hand from Phil’s gently, eyes fixed on him, watching for any tremor of movement. Nothing comes, luckily. He swallows, looking down at his palm, reddened from where Phil has clasped it so tightly. 

He slips out of the bed, forcing himself not to look back. 

Cat is asleep, thankfully, when he crawls in beside her. He’s naked, of course, still, but he can pretend it was intentional. He’ll have sex with her tomorrow, in the morning, as she wakes, and then she won’t see anything amiss. 

Phil will wake up alone, next door, when this happens. The walls are thin, and there’s no way Cat will know to be quiet unless Dan tells her. The indent of Dan’s head will still be pressed into Phil’s pillow as he moves over Cat’s body right next door. 

Phil will roll away from it, from the smell of Dan still lingering in the sheets. He will stare out of his window, watching the morning glimmer into existence. 

And he will listen, Dan knows. 

[thesinglesjukebox]

SEIKO OOMORI - DOGMA MAGMA [7.10] This certainly touched our yes.

Ryo Miyauchi: This relentless firestorm of a rock song musically compacts her entire kitixxxgaia album into a 5-minute pop single, so Seiko Oomori understandably had to cut a good portion of it for a late-night TV performance. Out went the year's best opening gag: "Moshi moshi, it's me, God. Wait, you don't know who I am? Proof? Hm..." But curiously, she also had to censor out "fuck you." A petty edit, not just because this aired on Japanese TV, but also every other lyric is far more radical for a frankly conservative public to hear. "Dogma Magma" follows Oomori, a deity who wakes up in the mortal form of a Japanese woman and discovers this society won't take her seriously without following certain rules. She shreds apart those rules in regards to gender, marriage, labor, beauty standards and any other societal pressures unabashedly as she blitzes through her sprawling rock music. Hearing a musician who vaguely looks like me (at least from a foreigner's eye) scream things like "I can't even go outside in this body without putting on make up," "I don't really want to get married, I'm content, so don't mind me," or "ugly or just a piece of shit, I want to change the world" in my first language shattered my world. Now, watching her do the same but for a live audience? It's a miracle any part of "Dogma Magma" was even allowed for broadcast in the first place. [10]

Katherine St Asaph: Like elevator music for the malfunctioning Tower of Terror that was 2017. It's better as song. [7]

Edward Okulicz: "Dogma Magma" has ambition oozing out of every corner of it, but at five minutes long it kind of feels like ten. The opening verse sounds suspiciously like "Itsy Bitsy Spider" and Oomori squeaks large portions of the song, struggling to be heard above musical theatre armageddon. Ambition not fully realised for mine, but an impressive racket anyway. [5]

Juana Giaimo: Probably not the right song to listen to after a yoga class. The desperation of Seiko Oomori is out of control and by the end, the sweet beginning is completely overshadow by the hellish end. "Dogma Magma" is a song that I can find musically interesting but hard to relate to. [5]

Will Adams: Given how much Seiko Oomori's voice sells the bombastic arrangement, the additional flourishes via phone chatter, whole tone dream runs, accordion waltz and blockbuster explosion feel unnecessary. Still, "Dogma Magma" is a rush to listen to no matter how up for the pyrotechnics you are. [6]

Josh Langhoff: This volcanic spew of ideas couldn't have been made by '70s Tubes or '80s John Zorn, but it seems like something they'd dig. The song opens with a gong. Other items of note include abrupt tempo shifts and mixed meters, catchy hooks, a drummer who's exceptionally proud of her cymbals, a double-time DDR hardcore bit for a bridge, two seconds of French cafe waltz, and the English command "touch my yes," which pretty much sums up the aesthetic here. [7]

Alfred Soto: Tour de forces impress and exhaust -- that's the point of them. This mishmash of the show tunes ethos, the wilder bits of Coltrane, and J-pop shouldn't be consumed at a single sitting. Play one section, pause, grab a glass of water, return, pause. [5]

Maxwell Cavaseno: Sometimes, life feels like a giant parody of a parody no matter how hard you try to point out its absurdities. Nothing's too special in pointing out the mundanity of life, and inevitably in trying to point out how the world's a fool, you look like a fool. So sometimes, the best way to go about is to mock yourself and the world all at once, so nobody's safe! JOKE'S ON YOU BUDDY, Seiko Oomori's in on the joke! She is the joke! You're the joke! It's all jokes! And the best way Seiko lands all of her punchlines is the scrape of sincerity with a will to disprove both, undermining herself thematically and sonically to make those bursts of seeming earnestness so dizzy; they could easily be real or yet another joke in themselves. When you spend enough time proving that everything bad is good and what's good is bad, you're never quite sure. [8]

Iain Mew: It's a big musical number, and there's one woman at a piano playing a brisk showtune, but the curtains are moving and there are all kinds of horrors and wonders hiding in the shadows, waiting on hidden cues to each pounce out for their moment. By the end the piano is probably on fire too. But the real trick is that, even amidst the ludicrous spectacle, it's impossible to turn attention away from her voice. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: A propulsive, energetic, brilliant pop song that skews between pillowy piano, simple, humming bass, scalpel sharp guitar and thick, gushy and solid drums and raspy, sparkling guitar, grim, unflinching bass and rapid, viscous drums.The singing is.../I gotta./Do it for the culture./////////#Blessed. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[mazmisc]

The Poetry of Michael Dolce

Links to Michael’s books can be found at the bottom of the page.

Michael Dolce

A Universe to Come   8/19/08

I imagine the smell of earth in the mist of the sweet jungle’s humidity, Caressing my dry face, Bringing sweet and powerful tears to my cheeks, Half of my own making and half not. I can taste the water of this sacred savannah on my tongue With the gracious passion of a man too long denied its sustenance, Lost in a wilderness of wind and unfertile sand. I cool my overheated fingers in the damp mud of Mother Earth’s wet soil, And when I return them to my face, I smell a perfume that brings peace to my restless spirit And inspiration to all parts of my being. Then with the posture of a god atop Gaea’s highest peak, Bedecked in naught but the flesh that carried me from the ocean to this land And bathed in the light of Helios on high, She comes to me, A muse and a dark prophecy of sublime promise; An angel and a harlot, A song of terrible ardor and a whisper of confident purpose. She descends upon my skin as hot rain, Falling in surprising softness upon me, Flowing from my head to my toes in sanguine rivers of joy That speak to me like tongues of fire In a forgotten language no mortal mind ever had a name for. Upon my right and pure propitiation to her, Infusing her with consecrated heat, She rewards me by taking the world off of my back and smiling at me; A girl and a whore, A wife and a courtesan, A daughter and a mother. Her hands draw from my being every last ounce of poison Corrupting the sanctity of my immortal temple, Wrought from the wars of the civilized world. She finds the seat of my power, Where this deity’s machinations are seeded, The indomitable, indefatigable throne of my kingdom. She takes her seat as my queen, Radiant and magnificent, A goddess in these moments, Even unto other goddesses, Who can scarce contain their own adoration of her. As I worship. She holds a place of mystic guardianship atop the watch tower of my domain, And for all of its stolid solemnity, She makes it a beacon that lights the way for the Divine light to bless my great reign. As the sea meets the shore, we collide. She makes the earth from magma at my core, Pushing it to the surface in delightful chaos that replenishes the fertile realm. In the following calm, In the grace of profound silence. The ancient ritual is accomplished. The universe is reborn.

  Join Me           05-26-04

Anyone could blame it on the mushrooms, Especially the people who’ve never taken them And see merely the incomprehensible chaos it brings to people, Causing them to laugh uncontrollably And express leaps of child-like logic that their aging minds have long forgotten.

But it was beyond psilocybin, Beyond the mind, And beyond the flesh and bone that serve as my conveyance.

My soul spoke. My Great soul.

I sat on a dirt hill beside my best friend. We’d joked all night And had howled with hilarity; Two intelligent innocences struggling to cope with the illusory trappings of the Age of Pisces, The iron age of tyranny, political correctness, violence and abject humorlessness.

I remembered having a religion imposed upon me. I remembered the indoctrinational practices of my schooling. I imagined Jews and Palestinians killing each other over who had the best invisible friend, Busily fighting the great unknowns of human mortality. I imagined a world in which the followers of Elwood P. Dowd Committed acts of rape and murder out of an outrageously enflamed belief in an intangible six-foot tall rabbit named Harvey, And this made as much sense to me as the Crusades, the witch burnings & the jihads.

It struck me then.

It was like looking all around the house for a misplaced wallet And finding it finally in your back pocket.

Love is the thing.

Love is everything.

I could send it from my heart through my hands and heal this planet if I really meant it.

I gazed in immaculate awe up at the stars And gratefully into the eyes of my friend, And I spoke words that had come from a source beyond me; A memory of lessons learned, A prophecy of learning yet to come.

“I just want to love.”

My mind was a cool breeze. My heart was a gentle blaze. My spirit was a calm, healing stream. My body lay serenely prostrate upon the soil.

“I just want to love.”

I knew it was the truth of my existence, My destiny, My road less traveled.

I was absolutely myself, In all worlds, When I said it.

An eternity thrived in the scant seconds of my uttering, And I knew myself for the first time.

Decades have since passed.

Fear, greed & anger have come to fight a last battle for supremacy on earth. Confusion, apathy and disillusionment hold humanity from its inherent greatness, And, Imperfect vessel that I am, I understand it now.

I had spoken words that had come to me from a source beyond me; A memory of lessons learned, A prophecy of learning yet to come.

“I just want to love.”

Join me.

Death and resurrection.

Join me.

  I Met Your Girl           

I met your daughter at a Motel 6. She was calling herself Candy. I didn’t ask her for her real name. She never asked for mine.

A box of Huggies was visible Behind the closet door, Left inadvertently ajar. What was she, 18? 19? Already a mouth to feed.

She had a scar under her right eye. Did you give her that When you came home drunk And angry because You couldn’t be accountable For why you earned minimum wage?

What was she, 18? 19? She looked 30. The shadows under her eyes Were as deep as those cast by trees and buildings At sundown.

Maybe it was lack of sleep. Maybe it was drugs.

Did she roll her first joint for you? Did she have her first swallow of rotgut from your bottle? Did monkey see and monkey do?

She took it like a champ, And to the untrained heart, She feigned sincerity with practiced efficiency.

Did she learn that from you too?

The tattoo on her lower back Featured a skull and cross bones And read “here to go”. What was she, 18? 19? And here to go?

Well, I’m no saint obviously, Or I’d never have been in that hotel room With your daughter, Whose name I’ll never know, But by absent god, I’d never have enjoyed her company For that indecent half hour If you’d been a real man to your girl, Instead of …

…Well… Instead of whatever it was you were to her.

The River

The river swallows what it wishes. Water is potent beyond words. Walking beside the river is the purview of the bold, Because if the river wishes, it commands, And the hero, Regardless of imagined quests, Is drawn into unknown, unknowable currents Into which compassionate resolve sinks or swims. Every call to adventure is a call to love, And the manner of the challenge is a bizarre surprise Born of strange occurrence.

It must be so. For if the hero could choose the battles, They would all be encounters the hero was certain to win.

Heroism is the ability to be instructed by such as a river, Flowing with it as it dictates So that one’s formulas may be disproven, False faiths may be rent asunder And one’s own agnostic kindness may be given the breath of true life.

The river calls you. Fall willingly into it, To be bathed and purified, To have this ego drowned in sacred remembrance of universal unity, To rise a perpetually transformed spirit.

God is the river, The lake, The sea, The ocean.

You are a drop in the water, And you surrender So that you may move as the water moves, And in this submission, Your temporal being with a temporary name Is given the grace and force To perform feats of magic in a sterile atmosphere And to wield a candle’s flame Dispelling darkness.

The river calls. Answer.   Allow. Act.

  Boundless Love Sometimes I curse this flesh and bone because The limitations brought are hard to face, And what this damned trapped ego does Can never seem to stretch beyond its place. The truth of love is not the same as fact, Because this ego’s litany of fears Demands at least the semblance of contract, Imposing boundaries so we fend off tears. Would that this were not so, and we were free From form, from terror and from consequence, To say that you are yours, but you’re with me. Both come with some collateral expense.           I wish we had the minds of gods above,           For then we might enjoy a boundless love.

Michael’s books can be purchased here:

Zero the Clown: and a Lovely Garden of Flowering Weeds Desire and Dust Slap & Tickle Magic & Malarkey 69 Sonnets

from WordPress http://bizarredatanoise.com/?p=3981

[hasansonsuzceliktas]

Building a Temple...

Love = God The Anatolian Jam is over. Things are rocking, but nothing's happening. It's such a mess in my head that I just want to hide. I saw photos on Facebook. Some people built something called Topak in Cappadocia, and it's maybe the most beautiful settlement I've ever seen. It's like a mother's womb, and the people there, who smile pleasantly and look beautiful, are called the Obaruhu (the spirit of nomads). Then my life changed. I encountered a beautiful yet tough life after love. I had no energy left for anything else. But the Obaruhu then decided to come near us and help us. Bilge was also coming over, my dearest friend from senior high. Whenever Bilge is there, I laugh. I'm relaxed, and I can be as I am. I see, and I am seen. What's more, Bilge was going to see me in my new life, in my new home and my natural habitat. We were going to play with both the Obaruhu and Bilge, but it didn't happen. I had to leave, so we couldn't play. A year passed before I saw it on Facebook, and Bilge pushed me too. The Obaruhu had decided to build a temple for Topak. It was the most amazing production combination possible in this country. Melodi was coming as well, another darling from high school with the most incredible brain. She's the answer to the question of whether aliens exists, because they do, and Melodi is proof of it. Melodi cannot help but goof around, but I don't mind because of her positive attitude (which is every alien being's right) and her wonderful heart. Çağım might also come over. If Çağım is there, I will feel great, safe, and supported. I feel understood. In my opinion, Çağım is a cross between a squirrel and a mountain.

I was bedridden for a year, and every part of me ached from the immobility. I was creating new records for laziness and fixity. I longed to play with the Obaruhu, Bilge, Melodi, and Çağım, and this weighed on me more than anything else, so I enrolled weeks in advance. I went to Badem Han, where we would build the temple, the day before just so I could chat with my friends. We were reunited. We then sat with Burcu and did not shut up for at least five hours. If it were up to me, I would have talked for five million hours. On the day of the meeting, all the marvelous colors began to pour in. It was just as I had dreamed it: a parade of beautiful people, all unique to themselves and completing each other. We sat in a circle to introduce ourselves, and everyone first expressed their wishes before making small drawings with the colors and elements they wanted. I said the building was merely a vehicle. I was there to play, and I would endeavor to see the beauty in everyone rather than their flaws. I intended to share everything that I had learned, saw, and become. When I said I didn't like to work much, it triggered a few giggles. I drew my volcano, naturally in red where the fiery magma was, and sat back down. I wanted to say much nicer things, but I was so excited that this was all I could manage. Following the circle, we retrieved Bilge's tent, which the strong wind had blown away, and Melodi, Bilge, and I squeezed in it, compensating for the lost time with laughter. In the middle of the night, the only wish that I and Züriye held came true: Çağım, who everybody thought wouldn't be able to make it, joined us. Many people woke up and ran towards Çağım half-sleeping, some fell down as they ran and some hugged him, me among them. Every wise being loves Çağım immensely. It was like a festival itself in the middle of the night. I said to myself, “Okay, now we can truly build a temple of love and unity. You're going to work your ass off, Baraniko.” We woke up at six, Ernie's favorite number and a time I’m more used to going to bed at rather than waking up. Why? We were to play the earth game. The weather is so cold, and my ass felt like it would freeze off. We went to a cemetery shivering, and they covered our eyes. We began to walk in silence, holding on to the person before us. We walked barefoot among pine needles and pebbles on the ground. With the cold things stabbing at my feet, I decided to raise my arms and shout, “Dad! Why did you leave me?” but stopped myself rather than ruin the game. My disdain for being a spoilsport surpassed my urge to schmooze, and once this sweet agony had passed, they placed some earth in our palms. We said one word and put it in the bucket for later use when building the temple. When Burcu said, “Unity,” I leisurely said, “Let there be love.” Maybe you're a bit tired of hearing this, but I have no other issues. Let there be love, and the rest will be easy.

The first day was a warm up, and the building process went very slow. The next day we were flying, though. People were sieving soil, wheeling sand and earth in barrows, and mixing them with water. Others passed mixture-filled buckets from hand to hand in a human chain. Some emptied buckets into bags, while others took measurements or ferried water. A few even just shared their music. It was just like the movie Fight Club. The next day, we went to the shore to play the water game. We first listened to our story from the voice of beauties before heading into the sea and making a circle. We began to play our game of singing songs, all among the surprised but sweet looks of the dear inhabitants of Keşan. Lots of kids were in the sea laughing, playing, and singing. I don't know how to swim, so I wouldn't normally go in the cold sea. What kind of magicians were these Obaruhu? Yet I found myself laughing hysterically, splashing water, repeatedly jumping into the middle of the circle, and singing at the top of my voice. Scorpio–Cancer Baraniko seemed to be slowly finding his self. We continued raising our temple, helping each other out, listening to the stories, tolerating flaws, and sharing our food, drink, and tobacco. We worked in four shifts every day: before breakfast, after breakfast, under the midday sun, and until the sun went down. After lunch, people would offer gifts. Melodi explained sacred geometry one day, for instance. She's been telling me this stuff constantly for 15 years, and I always loved it, although I never really understood it. Until this workshop, I thought my primitive two-dimensional brain was to blame. But then I saw how Merve and Burcu also listened to her with eager eyes and open mouths. At one point, she was talking about something like rombotiko, and we lost a few people to brain hemorrhages. I thought, “Okay, it's not just me. Us mere mortals can only understand about a half of what our dear friend is saying.” One evening, we played the fire game. We first paired up and filled each other's plates with food. Without talking, we then fed each other in turn. Çağım and I, two hairy guys, fed each other in such elegance. My inner voice at first said, “We are so tired. Screw this stupid idea,” but I loved how it all flowed, and we laughed our heads off about it. They then lit the fire, and we all played around it for a while. Then, Aslı, a wonderful and genuine person who had spent a lot of time at Badem Han, began to play with fire and dance. Every time I watched the fire, I wanted to become the fire. As the temple rose up, we began to benefit from its shadow during the daytime, and we used it for shelter at night. Volkan also organized ceremonies inside at night, with many of us smirking in our sleeping bags. Of course, I wasn't active in any of the bedtime stories. I slept approximately three hours throughout the whole workshop. Finally, we played the air game, which involved closing your eyes and letting go of your body in one piece. The main objective was to learn to trust that the people around you would catch you. This was difficult for me. I bent my knees and so on, but I couldn't entirely let go of my body. Then Mukund, a boy from Bombay with a beautiful gaze, saw this Anatolian boy. Organizing the entire group into one circle, he then placed me in the middle. At first I thought, “Shit! I’m so exposed.” Then I said, “Screw it!” and completely let go of myself. To the left and right, to the front and back, I didn't bend any part of my body even a morsel. I didn't hesitate whatsoever. They caught me every time, no matter how many times I did it.

This is how we built the temple. We placed the hexagonal hood and the glass on the roof as well. We couldn't get enough hugs as we parted. We said farewell to everyone, but alas, the final coating was not complete yet. We stayed one more night as the Obaruhu and our high school threesome completed most of the coating. We embraced each and every one of Badem Han staff, especially Aykut, for feeding us, welcoming us as their guests, opening up their hearts to us, and even working alongside us. They finished the remainder of the coating after we left. Bless them. Our temple has two triangular doors, one symbolizing the female and the other the male. Each one of us came through those doors and transformed into something beautiful. From earth, sand, and water, we built something great, but we also built actual temples in each other's hearts, falling, laughing, playing, and crying in unity and in love. Let there be Love. And there is Love. Thank goodness. (For Obaruhu visit: www.obaruhu.org) Read the full article

[darkmoonvale-thac0hno]

Player Journal: Ulthaniel Ravengost, Part 2

5 Rova, 4717 AR: A Pilgrim’s musings

Our day began firstly with the scampering of kobolds which was expected, and quickly became far more eventful as fate brought a most curious event into our predicament in the form of someone from our past. A bumbling human wizard that our fiery friend Char had spared the life of, someone I’d encountered from afar, and unfortunately another human that seemed destined to meet an early end by entering domains (again) he had no respect, understanding, or business being in. Luckily, the wyvern hunting him was lost his trail when he hid within the temple. In an almost comical fashion, he nearly perished to the deadly mold spores growing on the books of the library. Alerted to the presence of an intrude coughing and choking to death in an adjacent room, we found him before he ignorance took his life and the druid was able to brew him a concoction to ease his suffering (from the cough that plagued him, not buffoonery).

Still within the cursed temple of Torag, we realized that the darkness deeper within than we’d thought and began to scour the lower level of the holy forge. Finding the trappings of the vile Dwarven deity whose treachery corrupted this place has brought us to a place that seems our very souls’ mettle is to be tested, should the diary we found hold more than mad ramblings in it. A magma filled pit of boiling souls, a room where I believe you can hear the anguish of the dead, suicide, kobolds, and the mystery of how to lift the darkness from this place is certainly weighing upon my mind, but not nearly so much as the fate of my companions.

While many would wax poetically about the bravery and heroism of their companions, I am amazed at the sheer, blind faith they place in luck. It is inspiring that while they are fools and do so without intent, they are so devoted to the very goddess I serve they couldn’t even begin to understand how almost their every action is the result of her blessing. A century would mark the passing of generations to my peers, though is simply a reminder of how naive with so much to learn I am as an elf. Pondering on what designs might have crossed my path with the likes of this bad I had faith it would eventually become clear. Seemingly driven to meet whatever maker my newfound companions bend knee to, I feared that my ability to guide them simply couldn't save them from themselves. Thankfully, The Tender of Dreams shines her light upon those eager to do her will and has provided me with guidance.

My role is naturally to guide them, though that is not my purpose in this company as I suspected at all! While travel is certainly one of the primary domains Desna blesses upon us, I see now that it has been all encompassing in my eyes and that she wishes me to take part in her greater mysteries. I am with these people to guide as well as be guided, as I now see they are inadvertently and blindly devoted to the very my soul is committed. As the patron of fortune, the Lady of Luck clearly blessed these fools for their every step relies more on luck and chance then I’m certain they could understand. While I do not truly believe they will take up worshiping the North Star as I do, I am determined to make them realize her role in their lives and the value of her blessings upon them as travelers, adventurers, and as lucky fools.

[cbacofficial]

Connected by a Cable [Chapter Five]

"...With hours upon hours of content, it's no wonder why Law of Mahna is the hottest game this year! Sign up now and get five free Experience Boosters!" - Commercial

   As time went on, and gear was acquired, Hioshi and Yukara thought it would be a good time to finally start up the quest for the Artifact Weapon they had in their inventory. Upon using it, a quest appeared before Hioshi in text but a voice narrated it to Yukara. A voice that was cast upon the staff like a message and by using her own magical knowledge, Hioshi could hear it too.    "To whomever picks up my staff, know that my time has come to an end. What you hold is but one of twelve weapons blessed by Mahna herself. Arcanium has tremendous power that none can match. Able to alter the flow of time, whether it be slowing down or turning the clock back, it was a force that no one could stop. Alas, by the time someone finds it...the staff will be all but worn out. I task you to rebuild what would of been lost within time, and take up the mantle of Timebender..."    The quest log Hioshi would see, already explained in more detail what to do. He then said to Yukara "Well it looks like we will be needing a few items. Vials of Timesand, Obsidian plates and... Ten Elementium Bars!?" that last one caused Hioshi to panic. He scrounged around for his phone, looking on the internet and learning the materials required to making the Elementium bars. Already he felt a crushing weight on his virtual wallet. Yukara took notes down as he listed the items for Elementium Bars.    "One Essence of Water, One Essence of Fire, One Essence of Earth, One Essence of Wind and Ten Tears of Mahna...for each bar." Hioshi looked more into the Tears of Mahna and his heart sank further. They were rare nodes that appeared randomly at any given time. Each one only giving somewhere between two to five each one. It would be a nightmare to farm. Yukara had a different outlook. She saw this as a challenge and a way to better bond with Hioshi.    "We can do it, Master! I have faith in you." Yukara happily said through the monitor to Hioshi. The optimistic voice, cheery tone and her smile brought back some faint memories of when Hioshi had fun playing video games. Hioshi agreed. "Alright then. Let's start with the Timesand. It says in the hint log that Timesand is refined, processed and aged in special constructs that cannot be killed by mortal means and the sand can only be obtained while the creature is alive." This made Yukara figure out a location. "Salium Desert! I think I heard of some kind of unkillable monster from the others."     ---    The travel time to the desert wasn't fairly long and unlike previous days, there were more players running around. Clearly the big level rush was calming down finally and the zones will be inhabited by a variety of players rather than one location being a big place. "Wow...So many players..." The usual reaction of Yukara as she spotted players traveling to and from, gathering rare shards and crystals or hunting animals in small parties. Following the clues, they headed to the southern location from what a few players have been messaging on about. Yet it seemed barren and empty...    Then Hioshi noticed a small group gathering around a pile of rocks. Perhaps this was the golem? As Yukara rode up on top of her turtle, she asked them "Hey, what is happening here?" Then one of the Dwarves turned around to talk to her.    "Careful. Rumor has it this unkillable golem has top tier items!" though that was proven false with database files since this monster had no loot. Yet it was the fun and excitement of figuring things out. Hioshi thought this was the best chance they got to getting the sands easily. She then asked before Hioshi had time to send a whisper to another player, "Can I join the group? It sounds exciting!"    With an invite to the group, Hioshi could see the interface display roughly twenty three other players at this location. A rag tag assemble. They waited for everyone to prepare just as a torrent of sand swirled around the golem. The rock parts forming limbs and a head. The core swirled like razor sharp sand but there was a coloration change inside it. A gleam of gold sand among all the brown. That was the Timesand they were looking for!   The tanks whispered to each other who would strike first and hold the boss. Yet while they did, Yukara and Hioshi heard the broken staff's voice explain something.    "Steel yourself, young mage. The elemental before you is blessed by Garu, the God of Earth. To obtain the sand, you must extract it from it's roaring heart when it's exausted it's attacks. Then and only then the Sand can be taken..."    This hint made things easier but the act of taking the sand was the hard part. For they had already engaged the golem! "Ah! W-wait up!" Yukara hurried with the rest, casting spells and striking the golem. The damage they did wasn't harming it like much but each time the Golem used a sand spell, the sand around the core started to dissipate. A frontal blast of sand, rocks rising from pools and slamming it's fists into the group, the Golem was relentless and still unharmed. But Hioshi knew something from watching.    "Yukara, on my command...run to the Golem." she thought he was nuts at first. Running at the Golem? She might as well take a death penalty! Yet she felt confident. Her controller was clearly looking out for her on top of bettering her. To Yukara, this was trust for both of them. Then it happened, Hioshi held down a key to make Yukara run forward as the Golem started to cast his last spell. She closed her eyes, fearing for the pain but then he called out to her. "GRAB IT!" she shot her eyes open. Yukara was in the air and already avoiding the large blast of the golem. Before her was the prize. A glass sphere containing the golden Timesand! Yukara stretched her hand out to grab the orb, missing it once but her other hand knocking it out of place for her to bring it into her arms.    Yukara tumbled across the sand, scuffing herself and leaving sand on her clothes and hair. A dirty deed for her but the prize was definitely worth it. The sand ebb and flowed like an hourglass in the sphere. It shined radiantly to Yukara and Hioshi. They had obtained one part of the staff's restoration. Meanwhile, the group tried looking for loot but sadly there was none to be had. They didn't exactly question why Yukara did what she did and merely disbanded the group. "It's so pretty..." Yukara commented on the sand that failed to stop moving. It was refined beyond anything she had seen. ---    After obtaining the Timesand, the two headed off to the central mountain region known as 'Hellburn Mountains'. The clues they had on hand pointed to this location to obtaining the Obsidian Plates. The interior of the mountain was really hot, but manageable with supplies. Yukara could see the rare few people mining the nuggets to make new materials along the walls of the mountain. The center of the whole mountain held a shrine suspended in air by magic but inaccessible by normal means. The staff then started to resonate.    "Halt! The plates you seek belong to a massive lava serpent. You must be careful of it's magma balls or it will surely turn you into roast beef."    Yukara stopped for a moment to take a look around once more. Hioshi panned his camera behind, trying to spot the creature. Though it didn't seem to emerge yet. "Hioshi...Did it say how to summon the beast?" she asked, sitting on the bank of the lava river. The heated coals shockingly didn't burn her clothes but it was a video game and some things had to be broken to make the fantasy real. As she sat idly and Hioshi started looking on his phone for the answers. Still nothing on the database.    The large magma worm emerged from the lava river. It's entire body was a dark shade of red with glowing cracks in it's armor. It's mandibles dripping with fresh lava as it shrieked a high pitch scream. Loud enough to force Hioshi to turn the volume down and Yukara to cover her ears. "Ow! That is loud!" she soon regained her focus as the magma worm noticed Yukara finally. It's maw clicking and clattering at her like a hungry animal.    Hioshi brought his hands up and ready to assist Yukara...but already she was running away from it. She screamed at how gross it looked while trying to avoid the creature's body being thrashed about onto her. Rocks falling around and forcing Yukara to fight in the corner. Hioshi couldn't really tell what he could do to help her fight this beast. Ice spells were the only thing that would harm this creature, right? So in her haste, Yukara conjured an ice spear to fire onto the creature's body. It dented the armor but otherwise it annoyed him.    "HIOSHI! It's not working! HELP!" Yukara screamed as she tried avoiding a lava lob. The heatwave starting to hit her. Hioshi was honestly unable to truly figure out what to do. Then, all of a sudden from above, a gleam of a weapon came down onto the worm's armored hide, cracking it further before the person landed beside Yukara. He looked to Yukara-    "Y-yukara? What are you doing here?" It was Kael. His armor looked a bit worn from fighting. Yukara then shouted her question to him "What are YOU doing here!?" to which he then parried the gaping maw of the worm away from her. "I...am farming these creatures for their carapaces. Need to craft a few rings from them. You have to use blunt weapons and spells first before you can harm them." This shocked Hioshi. He had never really met anyone else that was quick to figuring bosses out. Hioshi wondered if Rei would be open to talk with in public sometime.    Kael and Yukara bombarded the lava worm's plates, cracking it hit by hit until it shattered into fragments. Exposing it's soft body underneath. "There! Now we can kill it!" Kael announced with a following downward strike infused with light enery as Yukara soon conjured a spike of ice to impale the creature though it's skull. It would take a few more strikes from each before the elite monster fell before them. Curling on the bank of the lava. Prompting Yukara to loot out a few plates. In her moment, she turned to Kael with a wide smile. "Thank you, Kael! I couldn't of done it without you."    Kael blushed gently at the generous and kind words he gave her before the two set off in opposite direction. Hioshi inspect the contents of their inventory to see what else they would require. "...We are missing a few elements of fire. Think you are up to farming a few more elemental creatures in the mountain?" Hioshi asked. Yukara merely nodded in glee. "Of course!" she replied back. "I really want to see how this weapon looks." ---    With the day slowly setting for them, Hioshi bid Yukara a good night. Yukara took this time to relax with her guildmates in the tavern. Kael was quick to greet her with a glass of Manaberry Juice. "You were out a long time. You two grinding items all day?" Nini asked Yukara as she sat down at the table. "Oh...just collecting reagents for raid time. I can't wait to see what secrets lay inside the temple. Maybe there's some awesome rare mount, or enhancement gems or-"    The sound of glass shattering and a frightful scream emanated from a table across. A young Raptear woman, mid level thirties was slowly vanishing before them. From her feet and up, her body slowly fragmented from existence. Everyone in the tavern watched with horror and shock, frozen in place. They could do nothing as they saw her tears fall from her scaled face onto the floor. Everything vanished before her and she vanished before them. Nothing remained. Her weapons, gone. Her backpack, gone. The room was dead silent for ten minutes. Everyone's eyes shifted around and examined the atmosphere.    Then Yukara broke the silence. With tears of fright she asked in a horrified way.   "W-what happened to her?"