#I’m very out of it if you can’t tell by my complete lack of worldly understanding rn

[springypaws]

There’s so much in Malevolent to be devastated over so why am I the most sad about the way things turned out with Yellow

Like, Yellow is John’s other half— the half that had been the main villain, threat, and danger for so many episodes now. And then, one day, POOF!! His memories were gone, and he was put into the same situation that John was in when he first met Arthur. I know it would have taken so extremely long, and may never have happened, but I keep imagining what it would have been like if Arthur helped Yellow feel some humanity, too. What would have happened if both Yellow AND John were changed for the better? Would the King in Yellow as a whole no longer be some evil Erdrich god, torturing souls for the heck of it?

Them beating Yellow in the finale of season 4 is one of the saddest parts to me, because it’s made very clear that Yellow wants to be cared for; he wants the bond and change that John had. Yellow goes so far as to ask John how he had made it so that Arthur would love John and care for him as much as he did, and what made John more lovable than himself. But he never receives it. Perhaps he simply can’t.

I just find it so sad— like this man is definitely not great, very far into the dark grey area of the moral spectrum, but he had so much opportunity to be good, even if it was taken away in the end. And I mean, perhaps he never could have changed, since John explained that Arthur cared for him because John cared for Arthur, which implies that Yellow couldn’t do the same, but the thought that he, once, might have been able to… he at least deserved someone to care about him, instead of trying to use him like Larson :(((

[katindeed]

writing and transness my two favorite worldly desires.

I don’t know why I always gravitate back to writing about being trans. On one hand it is quite the unique and different experience and I would add it’s fair to say it’s pretty all encompassing in my life whether I like it or not but it’s not like I don’t have anything else in my life to write about. I could write about my weird need to be independent or how differently I act by myself versus with even my closest companions. I do try to write about those things but then I get distracted and before I know it a week has passed but something weird happens when I write about being part of this strange little group. I’m able to let the words just flow out and almost nothing could distract me from finishing. If I had to guess why this happens I would presume it’s because of how inescapable it has felt in this point of life. I’ve barely just completely grasped my transness about a year ago (though I've been questioning since 10) and I’ve only really toyed with my name which didn’t take long considering I’ve always been weirdly drawn to the name Katherine. Recently for the first time I've had good enough friends I can tell and they’ve been wildly helpful yet still I feel as if I haven’t had enough initiative in a year of fully accepting myself. For make-up I’ve tried lip-stick once when my family were somewhere for a few days and I’ve been doing my nails more frequently but that's about it. I shave my face almost everyday to keep it at bay, but I don’t really have the tools for shaving anywhere else. And for clothes I have done zilch. It’s not like I haven’t done these things out of lack of effort, it's just hard to do them when in a packed house, when in constant fear, and having a lack of expendable income in a slew of more important expenses. With all this writing is my way to express these feelings I can’t in daily life. I’ve never been adequate at drawing and while I have been doodling more, I don’t think I care to really put a ton of work into it. So with the physical medium out of the way that leaves words. I’ve always been very creative with a lot of thoughts yet I’ve never had a great way to express it. I always thought I hated writing. Always forced to write a long drawl of something I truly feel passionless for. The odd free writes were always fun but the piles of essays and grammar mistakes were always there to make sure I always hated writing. Thank the stars, that recently for the first time I had a teacher who made me realize the joy that can come from writing when you care. Sadly that was last year's teacher but the essays don’t feel as grueling to get through and when we’re doing a paragraph on occasion they feel fun. Now with both these discoveries of late, both from last year interesting enough, I have been going through a bit of a change in how i am. For the first time in my life there is a very clear goal to why I should keep going to get out of this house. 1) so I can be who I want to be 2) so I can write. I've promised myself at the very least I’ll try to get myself there. No matter the obstacle no matter the strife I have to try because in the end memento mori.

[dfroza]

let us not be tricked.

let us not be deceived.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 11th chapter of the letter of 2nd Corinthians:

Please endure a little foolishness on my part; you have come so far with me already. To be completely honest, I am extremely jealous for you; but it’s the same kind of jealousy God has for you. You see, like an attentive father, I have pledged your hand in marriage and promised to present you as a pure virgin to the One who would be your husband, the Anointed One. But now I’m afraid that as that serpent tricked Eve with his wiles, so your hearts and minds will be tricked and you will stray from the single-minded love and pure devotion to Him. So then, if someone comes along and presents you with a Jesus different from the one we told you about, or if you receive a spirit different from the one gifted through our Lord Jesus, or even if you hear a gospel different from the one you heard through us; then you’re ready to go with it.

I consider myself in league with the so-called great emissaries; I lack nothing. Even if I’m not the greatest speaker, I make up for it by what I know of God and have proved it time and again to you. Was it a sin to humble myself and serve you so that you might be lifted up? Did I wrong you somehow by instructing you in the good news of God without charge? In a sense, I robbed other churches by accepting their support just so I could serve you. If any need arose while I was with you, I didn’t trouble anyone. When the brothers and sisters arrived from Macedonia, they covered all my needs so that I didn’t become a burden to any of you; and I plan on keeping it that way. For I tell you, as the truth of the Anointed One lives in me, I will continue to boast about this all throughout Achaia. Why am I doing this? It’s not because I don’t love you—God knows I do— but I will continue doing what I am doing to cut off any opportunity—clearly some are looking for one—for these false emissaries, these low-down, untrustworthy preachers, these posers who act as emissaries of the Anointed, to claim that they work under the same terms that we do. No wonder they are so good at it. Satan himself poses as a messenger of heavenly light, so why should we expect less from his servants—plodding over the earth, pretending to be ministers of righteousness—but in the end, they’ll get what’s coming to them.

So as I said before, please don’t mark me a fool; but if you must, then please accept me even as that and give me a little more room to boast. What I am saying now is not in character with our Lord but is the bragging of a self-assured fool. Just as other fools brag according to their worldly accomplishments, so I, too, will have to boast; meanwhile, you—so wise, so tolerant—gladly bear this kind of foolishness. How easily you tolerate becoming another’s slave, having them consume you, letting them rob you blind, or allowing them to edge their way past you or slap you in the face. Embarrassingly I admit that next to them we must look very weak!

But in whatever way they dare to boast—remember, I’m speaking in character as a fool—I dare to boast even more! Are they Hebrews, God’s chosen? So am I. Are they true Israelites? So am I. Are they descendants of Abraham? So am I. Are they servants to the Anointed One, the Liberating King? I am even more so! (I can’t believe how foolish I sound.) I have worked harder for God’s kingdom, taken more beatings, been dragged in and out of prisons, and have been eye-to-eye with death. Five times I have withstood thirty-nine lashes from Jewish authorities, three times I was battered with rods, once I was almost stoned to death, three times I was shipwrecked, and I spent one day and night adrift on the sea. I have been on many journeys and faced the most extreme circumstances: perilous rivers, violent thieves, and threats by my own people and by the Gentile outsiders alike. I have faced dangers in the city, in the wilderness, and at sea; and danger from spies among our brothers and sisters. I have survived toil and hardships, sleepless nights, hunger and thirst without a crumb in sight, bare to the cold. As if these external trials weren’t enough, there is the daily stress I feel and anxiety I carry for all the churches under my care. Who is weak without this arousing my empathy? Who gets hurt and offended without this inciting my burning anger?

So as you can see, if I have to boast, I will, but only in my own weaknesses. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus, He who is worthy of eternal blessing, can confirm that I am telling you the truth. Once, in Damascus, the governor under King Aretas had his people in the city looking for me in order to arrest me. But I crouched in a basket and was lowered out of a window in the city wall, and I narrowly escaped his tight grip.

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 11 (The Voice)

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 14th chapter of the book of Leviticus:

The Eternal One spoke to Moses.

Eternal One: These are the instructions for determining when an infected person has recovered from a skin disease and should be pronounced clean. The priest must go outside the camp and examine the infected person. If the priest determines the skin disease has been healed, then he will prescribe that two healthy birds—both ritually pure—some cedar wood, scarlet string, and hyssop be brought for the cleansing ritual. The priest will direct that one of the birds be killed in a clay jar over running water. He will then take the living bird along with the cedar, the scarlet string, and the hyssop and dip them in the blood of the first bird killed over running water. Then the priest will sprinkle the one who is being cleansed from his skin disease seven times with the blood, pronounce that he is once again clean, and set the living bird free in a wide, open field. The person who is presented for cleansing will wash his clothes, shave all the hair from his body, and wash himself with water; then he will be clean. After all this is done, he is permitted to enter the community but he must remain outside of his tent for seven days. When the seventh day arrives, he must shave all the hair from his body again—his head, beard, and eyebrows—and he has to wash his clothes again and bathe in water. This is how he is to be made clean.

On the eighth day, the person must bring two unblemished male lambs, an unblemished year-old ewe lamb, six quarts of the finest flour mixed with oil to act as a grain offering, and ⅔ pint of oil. The priest who pronounces the person clean will bring the man and his offering into My presence at the entrance of the congregation tent. The priest is then to take one male lamb as the guilt offering, along with the ⅔ pint of oil, and lift them up as a wave offering in My presence. Then he must slaughter the lamb in the same area of the sanctuary where they kill the purification offering for sin and the burnt offering. The guilt offering, like the purification offering, belongs to the priest. They are most sacred. The priest will then collect some of the blood of the guilt offering and place it on the right ear lobe, the right thumb, and the right big toe of the person who is being cleansed. The priest will take some of the ⅔ pint of oil and pour it into the palm of his own left hand, and then he will dip his right finger into the oil in his left hand and sprinkle drops of it with his finger seven times before Me. He will then take some of the oil from his left hand and place it on the right ear lobe, the right thumb, and the right big toe of the person being cleansed and on top of the blood of the guilt offering. The priest should take any remaining oil from his left hand and put it on the head of the person being cleansed. Then the priest must perform the atoning sacrifice before Me to cover the person’s sins. The priest is to offer the purification offering to cover the sin of the one being cleansed. After this, the priest must present the sacrifice for the burnt offering along with the grain offering on the altar. This is how the priest will cover the sin, guilt, and uncleanness of the person seeking to be cleansed; this person must be considered clean once again.

If the person who comes for cleansing is poor and cannot afford the prescribed offerings, then he may be covered by bringing one male lamb as a guilt offering to be lifted up as a wave offering. He should also present four pints of the finest flour mixed with oil for a grain offering, along with ⅔ pint of oil. He should also bring two turtledoves or two young pigeons, whichever he can afford. One of the birds will be for the purification offering and the other one will be for the burnt offering. When the eighth day arrives (which is the day after he shaves the second time), the person must present them for his cleansing to the priest at the entrance of the congregation tent in My presence. The priest will receive the lamb for the guilt offering and the ⅔ pint of oil, and lift them as a wave offering before Me. Afterward, he will kill the lamb for the guilt offering, collect some of its blood, and place it on the right ear lobe, the right thumb, and the right big toe of the person being cleansed. The priest is to pour some of the oil into the palm of his own left hand and sprinkle drops of it with his right finger seven times in My presence. The priest will then take some of the oil from his left hand and place it on the right ear lobe, the right thumb, and the right big toe of the person being cleansed and on top of the blood from the guilt offering. The priest should take any remaining oil from his left hand and put it on the head of the person being cleansed to cover him before Me. He will then present one of the turtledoves or young pigeons—whichever he can afford—one for the purification offering and the other for the burnt offering that accompanies the grain offering. The priest will cover the sin, guilt, and uncleanness before Me of the person seeking to be cleansed. These instructions explain what to do when someone with a serious skin disease cannot afford all the items for his cleansing.

The Eternal One spoke to Moses and Aaron.

Eternal One: When you go into the land of Canaan—the land which I am giving you as your own—and I contaminate or infect one of the houses in your land, the owner of the house must go inform the priest, “I have just noticed a spot in my house.” The priest must then order the person to remove all the contents from the house before he comes to examine the spot. This saves the person from possibly having everything in the house declared unclean. After this is done, the priest can go inside and inspect the spot. If he sees that the spot has greenish or reddish depressions and appears to go deep beneath the surface of the wall, then the priest will exit the house through the door and quarantine the house for seven days. When the seventh day arrives, the priest will go back into the house and inspect it again. If the discolored spot has shown up on other places on the walls, the priest will direct them to remove all the stones that have any suspicious spots on them and discard them in the impure refuse pile outside the camp. They are also to scrape off any suspicious-looking plaster and discard it in the impure refuse pile outside the camp. Then they are to go out and find other stones to replace the ones they removed and then replaster the walls.

If there is another outbreak after they have removed all the suspicious-looking stones and plaster and then replastered the walls, the priest must enter the house and inspect it once again. If he finds that the spots have reappeared, then the house has a chronic outbreak and is unclean. The owner must demolish the house and take all its stones, wood, and plaster to the impure refuse pile outside the camp. Whoever enters the house while the house is quarantined by the priest will become unclean until dusk. Also anyone who sleeps or eats inside the house must wash their clothes.

If the priest enters the house to inspect it and the spot has not reappeared after the walls have been rebuilt and replastered, the priest will declare the house clean because the spot has not returned. To cleanse the house from its contamination, the priest must take two birds, some cedar wood, scarlet string, and hyssop, and slaughter one bird in a clay jar over running water. He will then dip the cedar wood, hyssop, scarlet string, and the living bird in the blood of the first bird and in running water and sprinkle the house seven times. This is how the priest will cleanse the house from the outbreak using the blood of the sacrificed bird, running water, the living bird, cedar wood, hyssop, and scarlet string. He will set the living bird free over a wide, open field outside the camp. In this way, the priest will cover over the impurity of the house, and the house will be declared clean.

These are God’s instructions for how to deal with suspicious-looking spots: for scaly areas, swelling, rashes, and discolored spots on the skin and for discolored spots on clothing or in a house. With these instructions, priests are able to determine whether they are clean or unclean.

The Book of Leviticus, Chapter 14 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, june 14 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New Covenant) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons:

What is more important than finding the “path of life?”

Consciously or not, every day billions of people all over the world are seeking that which will satisfy their heart’s deepest longings for unending life, unbounded joy, and abiding pleasure. As C.S. Lewis pointed out, this ultimate longing is a “message” from another world.

Many people are seduced from heeding this message. Some believe that life consists of a series of sensual pleasures – eating, drinking, romance, sexual relations, etc., while others attempt to “lose themselves” in various kinds of entertainment. However, such fleeting moments of pleasure invariably cause an inward fragmentation of the soul, thereby weakening the will and inducing a state of forgetfulness regarding the deepest needs of life.

Others are deluded into attempting to find life by means of creating a “legacy” for themselves. To earn respect, to experience fame, or to be heroically remembered is considered the path of life. However, as Shakespeare poignantly reminds us, human history is at best a “tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

Still others hope to find life through various placating religious rituals and practices. In Orthodox Judaism, for example, the "Orach Chayim" is a handbook that meticulously provides a set of rules and regulations (halakhah) regarding sleeping, waking, wearing clothes, reciting blessings, observing Sabbath and the holidays, and so on. The path of life, according to the religionist, is the performance of various ritual acts in order to attain God’s approval and blessing.

In Psalm 16:11 we read: "You will show me the path of life; in your presence is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore." The Hebrew verb translated "you will show me" is a hiphil (i.e., causative) form of yada’ (to know) and could better be translated “you will cause me to know,” indicating that God is active in the knowing process. Here King David, despite the anxiety he felt regarding death, voiced his trust that God’s love would personally intervene to deliver him from the prospect of physical corruption in the grave (v10).

From the New Testament, we know that this verse ultimately refers not to David (who eventually died), but to Yeshua the Messiah, the greater Son of David (Mark 12:35-6, Psalm 110:1). The apostle Peter cited this verse on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:25-28), as did Paul at Antioch (Acts 13:35-37). Despite the grisly prospect of the crucifixion, Yeshua trusted that God, by raising him from the dead, would not allow him to suffer corruption (Matt. 16:21).

Interestingly, the word netzach (“forevermore”) denotes both “victory” and “eternity,” and reveals that Yeshua's resurrection provides the everlasting victory over the sting of death itself. Yeshua is forever enthroned at the very side of the Majesty on High as the "Key Holder" to life and death (see Rev. 1:18).

The ultimate longing we have in our hearts is really a message from God – to come to Him to have our deepest needs met. The true "orach chayim" is only found in a personal, trusting relationship with the resurrected Savior - Yeshua the Messiah (John 14:6). When we receive the message of His gracious love, our heart’s deepest longings will be truly satisfied. We will experience fullness of joy in God’s loving presence, and we will enjoy abiding pleasures in our communion with God. Amen.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 16:11 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm16-11-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm16-11-lesson.pdf

PDF version of post:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Meditations/Orach_Chayim/psa16-11.pdf

6.14.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

[thinkingofausername]

Jinnie Rozik. 

Much like me or is she actually me and I her? Can I be her just because I wish to be? Why do I cast so much misery on the person I wish to be?

Jinnie’s looks are almost completely like mine, aside from a few things. She carries and uses her face and body with more skill and confidence than I do. She teaches me that you don’t have to look extraordinary or otherworldly to charm. Our skin and bones differ very little, yet the hearts behind the skin make entirely different people. 

She is charming and fun, clever and quick, brave and persistent, protective and vengeful. She’s loyal, hard-working, resilient, affectionate, intimidating, brutal and spiteful. 

I am afraid of everything. 

I am afraid of myself, of other people, of challenges, of life, of expectations, of affection, of rotting and wasting away whilst aware of the potential I’ve had all along. I’m hurting and I’m tired and I’m angry and I don’t fully know why; I don’t know how to get out. I wait for it to pass but it never does. I live in my head and chase my daydreams and hope to be ready to start living once I achieve them. I dream of being wanted when I can’t stand myself. I hesitate and judge and avoid and time goes by without me. I hate the characters I write because they resemble me. I can’t give them love because I can’t give it to myself. 

Jinnie is extremely intelligent. It was obvious since she was a kid. 

She always fought and protected and endured. She was an angry teen. Rebellious and suspicious but so very soft inside. She was ready to endure all the worldly pain for those she loved. 

She didn’t have a happy childhood; didn’t experience familial love. She had her one great love which ended in gruesome tragedy and she never got over it. She associated love with one person and felt she could never give it to someone else.

She doesn’t settle down, doesn’t let herself lean on loyalty or belonging. She feels she has no place in the world. She watches others with a painful adoration and affection and admiration but she doesn’t reach out. I guess that’s where she and I meet.

She nears a puddle of vengeance, violence, bitterness and pain and she can’t avoid it – she steps right into it and lets it soak her boots and jeans. 

She never hurts innocent people. She doesn’t let the hate be all-consuming and blinding, no matter how desperately she holds onto it. Most of the time it’s all she has. A hate born out of grief, injustice and helplessness. 

She’s been a witch, a sidekick, a hero, a villain, a soldier and more. Not much changes. She’s always skilled but self-doubting, protective but mourning, altruistic but alone, admired but judged. 

She’s all I wish to be and that’s the irony. She’s flawed and she’s in pain and alone and yet I feel I still can’t reach her. I can’t be that great. Time won’t be enough to turn me into that. 

Is that me telling myself I won’t be happy no matter how well I craft myself? Is that me telling myself perfectionism won’t fix me? Why do I say “Look how close we are, she’s practically me and yet I dream of her and I’m in pain when I think of me”? Is that me putting myself in worlds and stories I enjoy, next to characters I adore, only to realize that not even the perfect version of me fits?

Is that me realizing this lack of belonging is forever? 

[donutloverxo]

Want you back

Note - this is for @holylulusworlds 10k follower challenge! My trope was hurt/comfort Congrats I hope you like it😘

Beautiful mood board by my girl @ballyhoobarnes

Summary - You want Steve to be more than just your sugar daddy. He breaks your heart. Will he be able to make it upto?

Themes - CEO au, sugar daddy/baby relationship, implied age gap, smut, unprotect sex, loss of virginity, daddy kink

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - almost 4k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You squealed as you grabbed the deep red box from Steve’s hand, the words ‘cartier' written on it in golden cursive. You could see Steve watching in amazement from the corner of your eye. You gasped as you opened it, the prettiest and shiniest diamonds you had ever seen. “For me?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes. If he said no it would break your heart.

“Who else would it be for?” He chuckled and you gave him a smile embarrassed at your own silly thoughts. “Let me” He said pulling you by your hips to place you on his lap, taking the necklace out of the box and clasping it around your neck.

Such an act shouldn’t feel so intimate, but it really did. Steve was the most generous man you had ever met. He met you in a very difficult time in your life. Paying off your student loans, buying you a new very comfortable apartment, and so many gifts all the while never expecting anything in return.

All he wanted was quality time with you and complete honestly. He reserved a lot of disdain for dishonest people. Which is why maybe he liked having you around. You were the most honest person you knew, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, never having a filter. You understood now what Steve meant when he said ‘you're a breathe of fresh air' having met his friends. You didn’t know who to trust, all those parties seemed so glitzy on the surface but you did feel a certain darkness lingering underneath on some level.

You looked down at your new diamond necklace. Since your little arrangement with Steve started, over six months ago now, this would be the tenth diamond necklace he gave you, among a few diamond pendants and bracelets. “It’s so pretty” you said in awe of it to which he replied “It looks pretty because it’s on you doll”

“You didn’t have to daddy” You shifted on his lap to get comfortable putting your arms around his neck to look into his cerulean blue eyes, the prettiest eyes in the whole wide world.

“I just felt like spoiling my princess. It’s been a while since I got you anything. Jarvis told me you haven’t used the platinum card in weeks” He quirked a brow at you.

Well you hadn’t. You weren’t surprised Steve’s secretary Jarvis noticed. He always delivered messages, gifts to you whenever Steve wasn’t available. You started a part time job at a library just so you wouldn’t have to use it. “I’ve been thinking a lot” You murmur looking down at your lap to avoid his intense gaze. If you did look at his face you wouldn’t be able to articulate your thoughts “and I don’t want your money daddy. I just want you. I don’t want you to feel like that’s all I’m looking for”

“Hey look at me” He said propping your chin up to make you look at his face. He looked so worried you wanted to kiss away his frown. “I have a lot of money. What I do with it is up to me. And I want to take care of my princess. I don’t feel like you take advantage of me. In fact you do a lot more for me than I for you” He placed a couple of soft kisses on your knuckles while maintaining eye contact with you.

You scoffed at that. You didn’t really do anything for Steve. Not in the way women did for men. When Steve asked to be your sugar daddy, you were more than nervous. How would someone as inexperienced as you please a man like him? But until now you had only had few heavy make out sessions. Steve would feel your breasts through your shirt, and you were sure you felt his hard on that one time, but other than that you hadn’t really done anything together. “I want – “ you trailed off. What if you did tell him how you felt, that you loved him more than the word love can say it, and he rejects you, breaks your heart. You could probably take rejection from anyone else, but if it came from Steve you’d never recover.

“What is it?” He probed.

“I want you. All of you. Why can’t – I don’t know how to say this” You shook your head trying think of the best words. “Why can’t we be boyfriend and girlfriend like most people are? I –“ you paused as he stared at you intently “I love you. I know I’m not the best girl out there but I try my best” You inwardly cringed at your pathetic-ness. Not really the best way to ask to be someone’s girlfriend.

He took a deep breathe “I was afraid of this. I don’t do that doll. If I wanted a girlfriend I would have one. I don’t have space for that.”

You felt as if he stabbed you in your heart. You quickly got up, abandoning the comfort of his lap. You took the necklace off putting it on the abandoned open box. “I want more. I can’t ignore my feelings. I can live without diamonds or bags but I can’t live without –“ you choked a sob. “I think I’ll go home now”

You collected your chanel bag, which he gave you, you grimaced as you looked at it, when he got it for you were over the moon but now it just gives you pain, just like every gift he got for you would. You put on your shoes somewhat leisurely expecting him to get up try to talk you out of leaving, compromise, something! But he just sat there staring at the necklace you rejected. “Goodbye” you said and left.

You had never been to a ball. Any party you ever attended were frat parties that were well trashy for the lack of a better word. You were so amazed at the tall champagne flutes passing through, the exotic hors doers, people dressed in the most lavish gowns and suits. Everything was so pretty you knew you didn’t fit in here.

But Steve was so considerate with you. His hand never left your side the whole night. He kept you close to him, including you in any conversation he had with others. It was that kindness that you fell in love with.

But then she approached you both. She looked really talk in her sleek stilletos, her sharp cheek bones were complimented by her short brown curls. You felt a tinge of jealousy when she hugged Steve kissing his cheek as if she had known him forever. “This is Margaret” He introduced her.

You were later told that she was Steve’s ex girlfriend.

She had a posh British accent. With her classic black dress, she looked like she belonged here. You hurt yourself by thinking about how Steve and her looked so good together. They looked like they were meant to be standing next to one another. You had to try really hard to hold back tears when she touched Steve’s bicep, laughing at something he said.

You had been ‘together' for over two months at that point. You knew Steve was gorgeous. You didn’t however realise how much other women noticed his that. That night you felt as if everyone had their eyes on him. If you left for even a second to use the ladies room, Steve would be surrounded by women, all so gorgeous they looked other worldly.

You asked to spend the night at his home. He had turned his queen suite into a room for you. Complete with baby pink walls, silk sheets and the softest of stuffies. He told you he would be happy to have you. After kissing you goodbye Steve went back to his room.

You had other plans. You knocked on his door, entering without his permission. You almost considered leaving when you looked at the sight in front of you. He was only sporting his grey sweats. The dim yellow light from the lamp made his skin and hair look golden as if he was a god. He certainly looked like he was carved out by gods. His muscles so taut and his shoulders so broad. He looked like he was photo shopped.

You whimpered when you got a good look at his abs as he sat up straight. You were wearing your satin pale blue nightie, adorned with white lace on the edges. Something you bought when you were out shopping with him. You knew you didn’t look nearly as good as the women at the party.

“You can’t sleep princess?” He asked sitting back against the headboard.

“Hm” You hummed remembering your diabolical plan “I just felt so alone. Can I sleep with you?” You fluttered your lashes at him.

“Of course” He gave you a small smile shifting to his side to make room for you. You quickly skipped over to him and got under the covers with him. Nestling against his chest you nuzzled his neck. “Is everything alright with you?” He asked propping your chin up to look at him.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” You draped a leg over his hip and started grinding against his thigh. You didn’t know much about seducing but you could only hope you were doing it right.

“Well you were quiet the whole ride home.” He pressed his palm against your hip, firmly but also gently at the same time, to stop your grinding. “What’s going on?”

“I just really really want to make you feel good.” You tried your best to sound classy and sultry at the same time, just like Peggy did.

You didn’t want him to find out just how amazing he was, and how he could do better than you. He was nice to her. Was he too nice? Did he still have feelings for her? Why did you find out from someone else that they were together. You needed to give him everything.

He didn’t try to stop when you rubbed him through his sweats. Gulping down your anxiety you looked up to see him staring at you curiously. He quickly sat back up and leaned against his pillows as you took his cock out of his briefs and sweats. He looked big. Much bigger than normal men probably. How were you supposed to take him?

You tried to recall whatever you had seen in porn or had heard from friends and stroked his length. He seemed to like it since he moaned grabbing a handful of your breast and squeezing it. You stared in awe as the creamy gooey liquid seeped out of his tip. You leaned down taking him in your mouth and going as far as you could until he hit the back of your throat. You moaned around him and swallowed your spit so you wouldn’t make too much of a mess. You were about to bob your up and down as one is supposed to do when giving a blow job but he abruptly pulled you off of him by grabbing the back of your head.

He brought you close to him and crashed his lips onto yours in a kiss which was all teeth and carnal need.

He flipped you over so you were under him and worked on taking off your panties. “I think I should tell you...” You trailed off not being able to concentrate with his lips on your neck. “I’ve never.. done this before.” You whimpered as he sucked a bruise into the crook of your neck.

He immediately stopped looking down at you. “What?” He asked and you felt ashamed and guilty that you ruined the moment. “What did you say?”

“I’ve never-” You curled in on yourself so you were as small as your voice was “I’ve never done this before you know.” You sniffles tears trailing down your cheeks.

“Hey” He shushed you. Collecting you in his arms and rocking you back and forth. You cried into him for a while. His steady heartbeat lulled you and calmed you. “We don’t have to do that any time soon. Your first time should be special. With someone you love.”

Maybe he said those words to comfort you. But he had no idea just how they broke your heart. He never saw you as anyone he could have a serious future with. You weren’t a serious put together girl. Sure he may say he prefers your innocence over the cunning and self absorbed people in his world. But he was one of them.

“Is it because I’m not her.” You spat but you weren’t brave enough to look at him.

“Who are you talking about?” He spoke into your hair.

“Margaret or Peggy. Whatever you call her.” You mumbled afraid that you had let your true feelings be known.

“Is that what this is about?” He shook his head and when you didn’t look at him he sternly called out your name which made you whip your head up. “There’s nothing between me and Peggy. We had our time but it’s over now.” He tried reassuring you.

Even if your arrangement was supposed to be purely financial you were more or less unofficially exclusive. “Then why did I have to find out from Natasha that you were both engaged?” You pouted wiping your nose with the back with the back of your finger.

“I only asked her to marry me because I thought that was how it was supposed to be. That’s what everyone had told us since we were kids. That we were to grow up and get married. But then I realized that I didn’t love her like that. Neither did she. We’re just friends now. I promise.” He kissed your forehead.

You were hurt from being rejected by the only man you ever tried to seduce. He cuddled you and coddled you. Reassuring you again and again that you’re perfect. There’s nothing wrong with you.

Just not perfect enough to actually be his apparently.

Days turned into weeks. You were just drifting through the motions. Steve insisted that you keep your apartment.

‘I gave it to you. It’s yours.’ He said.

And really beggars can’t be choosers. Before being his sugar baby, you cringed at that label now, you were just an intern in his company. But you didn’t last in that harsh environment for even a month. After that you didn’t really need to get another job since he promised to take care of you in exchange for your company.

You had no idea your company was worth that much.

You always had a crush on him. He was this stylish, smart, kind yet distant older man who was your dream guy of sorts. As in you could dream about him, but you can’t actually have him.

Of course you said yes to his proposal. And were more than happy to accompany him to exotic places in first class and private jets for over six months. To wear breath taking dresses which cost more than your tuition. To cuddle with him and make out with him. It didn’t really go far than that.

Yet it wasn’t hard to trick yourself into thinking that it was more. That you could convince him to want more with you. What a dumbass you were.

You applied to at least ten jobs, although you didn’t hear back from a single one. You were determined to get back on your feet and get yourself a new apartment. You’ll have to move back to queens or even New Jersey. There was no way you could afford a home in Manhattan. But you didn’t want Steve to get the idea that he’s any less cruel to you just because he let’s you stay in the condo he brought you.

For now you were happy wallowing in your sadness. Eating tubs of Ben and Jerry’s and watching the notebook. Thinking about how love is a lie fed to people since childhood so they don’t realise just how meaningless life is.

You were half sleep when you jerked awake to your intercom harshly buzzing. Grumbling you walked over to your door and pressed the button “Who is it?” You asked your irritation evident in your tone.

“It’s me.” Said the voice that was all too familiar to you. “Let me in please?” He requested desperately.

You let out a sigh pressing the little buzzer to let him in. As much as you loathed you, you loved him even more. It had been over a month, you were longing to see his voice, to talk to him, to smell him, to even just be around him.

You opened the door and let him into your, or his, home. You tried your best to not let him see just how happy you were that he’s in front of you. Instead you filled your eyes and drawled your voice feigning annoyance. “What do you want?”

“I want you back” He stated stalking towards you. “Please. I made a mistake” You had never seen him beg. This was so uncharacteristic of him. And you were going to thoroughly revel in it. You held his gaze, done being a coward.

“No” You simply said. “It’s too little too late”

“Don’t say that” He bent down invading your personal space. “It’s never too late. I – I love you” your jaw dropped as he stammered over the words leaving you shocked. “I’ve loved you for so long. I thought that I could pretend that I didn’t”

“Why?” You wanted to know.

“Because I’ve lost everyone I ever loved. I can’t lose you.” He kissed your knuckles.

“You already have.” But your body betrayed you as you leaned into his touch. You could already feel your resolve crumbling. “I don’t believe you.” You snatched your hands out of his hold. “You’ll change your mind tomorrow.”

“No no I won’t. I swear.” He scrambled to hold your hands again but you moved them out of his reach. It was almost satisfying to have the upper hand. To have him be the vulnerable one. “I’ll show you how serious I am.” He said removing a little red box from his pocket.

“Is that...”

“Yeah” He gave you a small smile. “This isn’t a spur of the moment thing. I’ve thought about this.” He said kneeling in front of you. He opened the box to reveal a solitaire diamond ring adorned by little diamonds on the band. It was simple enough to be classy but flashy enough to be special. “I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. You’ve always held my heart y/n. Will you marry me?” He asked. His voice slightly shaky.

You didn’t need to think about it. You forgave him as soon as you heard his voice. “Yes” You whimpered. You didn’t even know that you had started crying. He stood up on his feet and slid the ring on your ring finger.

You smiled as he kissed you. After so long. It was just a month but it felt like a thousand years. It was as if he was parched and so needy for you. His hands wandering all over your body. He swooped you up in his arms and carried you over to your bedroom. He made quick work of taking off his sweater his jeans and his underwear.

He pulled your long sleep shirt over your head. You tried to hide your breasts from him. Having never been naked in front of anyone you were shy and felt so exposed. “You’re going to be my wife now.” He purred removing your hands and taking you in. He was awestruck. “You’re so beautiful.” He stated mater of factly.

He trailed kisses down your body. Settling between your legs he stared at your heat. You couldn’t tell if he was unsatisfied or not. You gasped as you felt his hot tongue against your warm folds. You squirmed and thrashed. It was so different from when you played with yourself. So much more intense. You whimpered punching the mattress when he pulled away, you instantly missed his mouth. You gasped as you felt his fingers invade your warmth.

He moved up looming over you pushing his fingers in and out of you. “I want to watch you fall apart” He said. His voice laced with lust.

You came all over them screaming as he captured your lips into a bruising kiss. Swallowing your moans and cries.

You were still coming down from your high when he pushed his tip inside you. You gasped. “Shh it’s okay” He cooed kissing your hair “It’ll be okay. Daddy always care of you. You know that right.” He whispered kissing your tears away “I’ll never hurt you again.” He let out a muffled grunt as he completely sheathed himself into you.

He let you get accustomed to his length for a minute before moving. Thrusting leisurely into you. You closed your eyes, holding onto your shoulders. Giving out little hums and mewls, only focusing on the weight of his cock in you, his tip hitting your cervix, and how he brushed against your pussy every time he slid out halfway, only to slid back in again.

“You’re so tight shit.” He cursed against your lips. “I can’t believe. I. Get. to. have. you. forever.” He grunted each word punctuated with a snap of his hips.

He snaked a hand between your bodies and stroked your clit before ruthlessly rolling it in his fingers. It was already so overworked and sensitive. You came clenching around his cock in no time.

Your orgasm set him off. He quickly pulled out, jerking himself off over your stomach you watched through hooded eyes as spurts of his cum painted your stomach. He slumped next to you. His face and neck flushed. “Have to be careful. I’ll use a rubber next time. I’m not ready to share you with anyone just yet” he muttered wiping his shiny forehead with the back of his hand.

He draped his arm across your stomach nuzzling your neck as you stared at your new rock. “You like it?” He asked kissing your throat.

“I love it. I can’t wait to tell my mom” You replied pecking his forehead. “We have to set a date. When do you want it to be? The theme? So many things.”

He hushed you “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll just hire a wedding planner.”

“What about your father? What if he doesn’t approve of me?” You worried.

“I don’t give two shits about his opinion.” He grumbled.

And you couldn’t help but giggle at that. It was rare to hear him curse. You couldn’t wait to plan your wedding and your life together.

Tags will be in the reblog. If you want in on the taglist shoot me an ask or click the link in the bio!

me thinks there must be a part two. what do you say?

cute pink dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Please note that my work is NOT to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account. Reblogs are most welcome though.

[revalise]

After the Sun [M] | 02

Pairing: Chrollo Lucilfer x Fem. OC

Genre: Romance and eventual smut

Rating: M

Words: 3730

Notes: Huge thanks to Rissa @bnha-aesthetic​ or beta reading this chapter!

I’m laughing at Astra’s future scenes, and I can’t wait to write it. THE BOLDNESS AND AUDACITY PLEASE.

Masterlist | Prologue | 03

Chrollo Lucilfer gets everything he wants, when he wants—even if it means undergoing extreme measures. Nothing bothered him, until an aphrodite, Astra Gerber, appeared one night and stole from the infamous thief. In return that Chrollo doesn't report her, he strikes a deal. But it could be more than what Astra bargained for.

CONSEQUENCES

There are three times Astra remembers disappointing her father.

Sure, she’d been doing that for a lot longer but those three times were the ones etched in her memory to never be forgotten.

The first time, Astra decided to take up Interior Design instead of Engineering, which her father had chosen for her beforehand.

They were aligned with law, politics, medicine, and studies that make their name. And to be a Gerber is to follow the rules set for them by their father; to be of use and bring praise to the family. It ran along their lineage, and no one deviated from it.

A family stays with you through tough times. Rooting for you and cheering you on to go further and take on the world as they guide you and keep you from falling. But not this family.

There is no room for failure. And it certainly meant no room for her.

Astra did not fancy making buildings upon buildings. The thought of having to toast her brains out with bricks, cement, and the hammering of nails did not feel suitable for her. Though she’s been told it wasn’t exactly necessary, she just couldn’t fathom the thought.

If it didn’t allow her to wear her killer heels for the rest of the day, she’s out of it.

However, she did fancy making a life out of establishments. The beauty inside, as she dramatically called it. She thought it’d be better to pursue something she likes, instead of something that did not appeal to her.

Unfortunately, her father thinks otherwise.

The second time, she told him that she’s going to try show business.

Martin lashed out then and gave her a reprimanding. To even think of joining that world, where everyone stepped on each other, interacted with hypocrisy, and filled with scandalous issues would be such a shame for the family. A disgrace.

Many wouldn’t know the reason why elites are so against show business. But then again, not many knew how much of a whorehouse it could be.

Young ones, coaxed by the industry, think of it as how they regard the night stars in the sky. But they forget their feet that’s stuck in the sewer. Only when they’ve fallen hard do they realize how deep they’ve sunk. Or how they couldn’t take those times back.

Ignoring her father’s comments and great disapproval, she continued anyway.

Despite her rising popularity, she didn’t realize the weight of the responsibilities it required. Thankfully, she was popular enough to only settle for modeling. Occasionally, she pairs up with a few girls from her agency to sing and dance to an original song. It wasn’t exactly an official group and was only meant for publicity, so it didn’t require too much work. The jobs she took with her big paychecks would be enough to sustain her personal, lifestyle, and social ‘needs.’

Lastly, when she refused to marry the man her father chose for her. Martin thought, if he couldn’t get anything from Astra because of her stubbornness, it’d be better to marry her off to some man who’d be of use to him.

All that ended to an embarrassment between both families when Astra decided not to show up, too hungover to even move. Not that she planned on meeting with the man anyway.

Three disappointments, and it caused their already tarnished relationship to rift further.

To Astra, it was absurd that her father thought he had complete control over her.

Who was he anyway? He was just some man who screwed her mother and left her pregnant until his mistake blew up in his face. He was just some man who slapped her with counselling with strangers when it hadn’t occurred to him that maybe his daughter wanted to talk to him instead.

She didn’t have the perfect role models to look up to. But she certainly was not a fool to obey someone just like that. She was sure to never take the path someone else had decided for her.

Astra Beatriz Gerber only belongs to Astra Beatriz Gerber.

Yes, she felt bold after all the times she went along with her wishes, rejecting her father’s commands. But she knew that after all that, she’d never get her father’s approval for anything again.

Martin, despite all the sunken wrinkles on his face and silver streaks against his raven hair, stands tall right in front of her, mocking her very existence.

And Astra felt small.

“What are you doing here?” Martin asked gruffly. The simple question sounding as if a question of mockery.

A chill snaked down her spine. She snickered inwardly, laughing at herself that her father still had that effect on her.

That his approval is still something she yearns for even after all these years.

She felt the need to clench her first to calm herself down. There was something about her father’s atmosphere that makes her crumble every time. There was something about his demeanor that felt icy cold and biting against the skin, taking all the warmth she longed for.

Perhaps it was the way he spoke in such a manner, so formal that no trace of familiarity could have alluded. But it wasn’t as if he’d treated her like one.

She teetered inside in stillness. He wasn’t always that way. He wasn’t always as distant as he was. Yes, there was always a gap between them, but it wasn’t as bad as it was now. She didn’t need to ask to know why. It was due to all her repeated disobedience.

Clicking heels sounded against the marble floors, its veins illuminated by the golden, luxurious chandeliers above. Their gaze shifted to the source.

Margaux Gerber, her older sister.

While Margaux looked elegant and sophisticated clad in all white, Astra looked rather odd in the picture with her bold choice of colors.

Margaux had an elegant aura about her. It’s in every piece of clothing she wears and every word she says. Whatever she did, she always looked superbly classy and luxurious.

It translated into the suit dress she wore, accessorized with golden buttons and chains, stopping until her mid-thighs and paired with matching white platform pumps. Her tone is a lovely sound, gentle, and calming as rain.

Her long, black, silky, and straight hair was side-parted with a pearl clip, giving her a look of femininity. A dainty necklace surrounded her smooth neckline and the matching earrings dangled from her ears.

In contrast, Astra looked odd against Margaux with her off-shoulder black mini dress with see-through balloon long sleeves and red ankle-strap platforms.

Everyone who knew the two sisters would see the vast difference between them. While Margaux received all respect from her peers and colleagues, and even strangers she passed by, Astra was only paid admiration - worldly admiration.

It was clear as day she lacked the gifts her sister possessed.

Astra tried hard to hide her feelings, the pounding of her heart pounding against her ears and the rushing of her blood against her veins.

She hadn’t seen her family in two years. Hadn’t heard from them in two years. Never even received an invitation to family dinners since the last time she disobeyed her father.

Her father’s presence was enough to melt her, turn her into dust to be taken by a gust of wind, and the addition of her sister made it even worse.

The sister that ignored her very existence and only looked at her with distaste.

She felt dizzy, nauseated, too small, and too large at once.

Astra tried to contain herself. She took slow and deep breaths, calming her fast-beating heart.

But anxiousness was mixed with perplexity when she watched as Margaux sauntered alongside with a familiar face she knew. The familiar face she was only conversing with earlier. From the looks of it, they were acquainted.

Anger boiled within her blood, and it perplexed her why.

“Dad,” Margaux elegantly greeted her father with a smile that showed off her perfectly white teeth, ignoring her sister’s presence even as she watched her.

Margaux's gaze shifted from her father to the man beside her, Chrollo Lucilfer. Her hand made its way to Chrollo’s arm, locking it with hers, her fingers tightening around his biceps. “This is the one I was telling you about.”

Astra’s brow raised upwards. A grin spread across Martin’s lips as he formally extended his hand with a deep, old chuckle, “I see. I see.”

Chrollo reached forward to shake Martin’s hand, in the process untangling Margaux’s arm with his.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from my daughter,” Martin’s voice was deep and formal, different from the icy tone he used with his daughter.

“Oh, please,” Margaux chuckled and rolled her eyes but with a smile on her face. Astra wanted to vomit at what she witnessed. She mouthed the same words from Margaux’s mouth with a face and roll of her eyes.

“Likewise, sir,” Chrollo politely replied with a last shake before shifting his gaze to Astra, who put no effort in hiding both her curiosity and displeasure, standing beside Martin. And though they were close in space, the invisible barrier between the father and daughter couldn’t be avoided.

“Will you join us for dinner?” Martin followed with a question.

The way Martin spoke to Chrollo, with all his fake politeness, made it evident to Astra that this was more than just a casual talk. She knew nothing about business and the way connections worked and how it was built, but she could tell that her father was up to something with Chrollo. She just couldn’t quite put her hand on it.

However, Astra hadn’t exactly been stellar with all her guesses in the past. That mere fact was enough to make her drop all her doubts.

“I would’ve loved to. But I’m afraid I’ve already had dinner with Astra,” Chrollo replied. No ounce of fear or intimidation etched on his face.

That only made Astra wonder more.

Most would fall into her father’s intimidation and end up embarrassing themselves, especially young ones like Chrollo who’d done nothing to prove themselves just yet - or as she thought.

Like Margaux, Martin also had an aura about him. A very intimidating one at that. One could say that it came from their father’s influence.

“Astra?” Martin didn’t try to hide the undercurrent of curiosity as his brow shot up.

“Astra, sir,” Chrollo found his way towards Astra before casually slipping his hand around her waist, “is a very good friend of mine.”

“Oh?” Martin narrowed his eyes, his wrinkles creating lined dimples across his face.

If he was shocked at the revelation, it didn’t show. And Astra knew better than anyone how controlled her father’s poise was.

Margaux, on the other hand, raised her brow and her blood throbbed. Darkness flitted across her eyes as she stared at his arm around Astra.

Astra couldn’t help but savor the perplexed faces of the two. The way Martin’s brow furrowed and the way Margaux’s disposition suddenly braced for defense, like she’d been exposed to something she shouldn’t have.

“You know each other?” Margaux's voice was hushed but marked by vehemence. She forced the corner of her lip to twitch upwards.

A wolfish smile tugged on Astra’s mouth and she prepared whatever lie she could muster to annoy her sister. A long list of lies clouded her mind.

The best lies were always mixed with the truth.

But before words could come out of her mouth, Margaux spoke yet again to finish her sentence, “Chrollo?”

It hadn’t been her who Margaux had been directing her question to. Astra rolled her eyes in irritation.

‘You evil witch,’ Astra hissed and cursed her sister in her mind.

If Margaux did it on purpose to embarrass her, she wouldn’t put it past her.

Chrollo glimpsed at Astra, who had her gaze in the opposite direction with a frown, before shifting it towards Margaux to reply with a vague answer, “We met under certain circumstances.”

But Chrollo’s answer wasn’t enough to quell her curiosity, and Martin interceded before she could ask again, “Margaux,” he said calmly, stopping her.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” Martin said.

“The pleasure is mine, sir,” Chrollo flashed a smile.

“Please,” Martin chuckled, “call me Martin. I have a feeling we’d be well acquainted.”

Chrollo laughed from beside Astra, “I sure hope so.”

Martin’s gaze shifted towards Astra, to her surprise, “Astra,” he said acknowledging, his eyes lingering on hers.

Margaux turned to examine her as they strode past before shifting away to look at the lobby ahead.

“Now about the deal,” Chrollo started once the two disappeared completely from their sight, his index wiping the corner of his mouth.

“About that,” Astra started. The feeling of what had just happened still rushing to her veins. “How about we do it next time?”

Chrollo’s brow shot upward, “Why?”

She turned her head to him, flashing an impish grin, “I have something better in mind.”

“No,” he replied flatly, making her frown.

“Then leave me alone,” the impish tone from earlier had gone missing from her voice. “Threaten me. Say whatever you want to say to ruin me. I don’t care. People are always going to talk shit about me. There’s always another version of me in someone else’s mind. So I’d rather listen to the people who know me best instead of someone who has only seen me twice. It won’t hurt me.”

With that, she stalked past Chrollo, who’d been dumbfounded at her sudden outburst.

Had she gone mad? Had she forgotten what Chrollo held against her?

Chrollo dashed to walk alongside her. His gaze didn’t bother shifting to her, only to the vast length of the lobby before them, “Fine. What is it you want?”

Astra ignored him but a smirk played on her lips. Of course, she won again. She quickened her pace to the elevator, eager to dash to the room she rented until she could go back to her place.

Once she’d gone inside the elevator alone and pressed the button to her floor, she watched as the elevator doors slowly blocked her view of the golden majority of furniture and red carpets in the lobby, until a quick hand stopped it from closing.

Chrollo fixed his blazer with a tug before sauntering inside, settling on the opposite corner from where Astra stood.

“I want to go out tonight,” Astra said.

“Okay,” Chrollo replied impassively.

The elevator then started moving up, up, and up. Though Astra found it odd that Chrollo had been quiet beside her and didn’t shoot him a glance.

Why hasn’t he been talking?

“What is it with you?” She asked sharply, crossing her arms as she turned her body to him, who stood perfectly still in calmness.

Chrollo didn’t answer.

“Wow.” She prolonged the word with amusement before rolling her eyes as she flipped her hair, “You followed me, stalked me. And for what?”

Chrollo furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing yet again.

Astra scoffed. She moved forward, each step with screaming arrogance, “Yes, I’m Astra Gerber. What do you want? A picture?” she mocked.

Chrollo didn’t reply, irking Astra even more.

Not only did she have a confusing reunion with her father and sister, but she had also been entangled with this mad lad right in front of her.

“Aren’t you going to answer?” Astra poked Chrollo’s arm again and again before she yelled so loudly, “Hey!”

With the timing of her yell came the ringing sound of the elevator before it opened. The color on their face paled as they were greeted by Astra’s… questioning manner.

Astra’s head whipped towards the door as she saw the horrified faces of those waiting outside.

She cleared her throat and slunk away, making sure to confine herself in the corner, while Chrollo stayed on the other.

Her fingers reached for the sunglasses in her bag, which she donned as she hid her head sidewards as a throng trickled in, blocking her access to Chrollo. And she made sure to keep her head down to avoid locking gazes with anyone.

The elevator went up, up, and up, until Chrollo and Astra were left alone together with another passenger who caught the situation with Chrollo. An elderly woman turned to glare at her, a look of disapproval written on her face. She was all too aware of the sharpness the lady was giving her; she could see it in the mirror on the sides of the elevator, which is why she made an effort never to turn away from the corner. Let the others think she’d been admiring herself all along.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw a glimpse of Chrollo’s reflection in the mirror behind the lady. And she could have sworn she saw a ghost of a smile across his lips. But before she could relish in the sight, the elevator bell rang and giggles from the opposite side seeped in the enclosed space. The elderly woman stepped out.

The titters were from a body of personnel, who made an effort to even bow their heads slightly at the sight of Chrollo. Their voices blended against one another, “Good evening, sir.”

Astra rolled her eyes, ‘Why only greet him? I’m a guest too.’

Chrollo dismissively waved his hand as he flashed a smile, “Good evening.”

Astra’s eyes narrowed as she caught a glimpse of a blonde-haired girl who smiled maliciously and batted her eyelashes at the man. She didn’t try to be discreet when she scoffed, making them shift their heads in her direction. Not even when Chrollo stepped out of the elevator with her as she wrapped her arm around his, giving a snakelike smile to the women who seemed interested in him.

To her surprise, Chrollo didn’t have the intention of inviting himself to Astra's room. She tilted her head to the side to ask why, only to be given a smile and a polite gesture to escort her in her chamber before he parted, promising to return in a few hours.

Astra couldn’t quite contain herself when she slumped on her bed with a wide grin on her face, her hands spread upwards just like her legs. The sudden warmth in her chest hadn’t worn off yet.

It took her a few good hours to get herself ready. She picked a dress plucked out of the stars. And she’d twirled enough in the mirror to know how it looked good on her, accentuating her strong features and her molten eyes.

Only when she heard the soft knocking did she step out of her dream. The warm sensation from her chest traveled to her stomach as she met with the man she’d been expecting.

When Astra mentioned that she wanted to celebrate tonight, Chrollo didn’t think twice about accompanying her. But it seemed that Astra shrugged off his kindness when she decided to stray away, leaving him for himself to look for her.

The flashing and the quick changing of lights illuminated the darkened club. A throng of strangers danced and flocked around Astra. She swayed her hips, closing her eyes as she felt the rhythm of the music pulse within her senses. The alcohol's effect sinking deep inside her veins.

“For someone who relies on my good graces, you’re certainly bold,” Chrollo’s deep, raspy voice whispered in her ear as a large hand snaked around her thigh, pressing the thin material of her dress so harshly against her skin.

“You’re very selfish, aren’t you?” Chrollo hissed, his breath brushed against the crook of her neck as he held her from behind.

An impish grin flashed across Astra’s lips as she let out a sultry chuckle. She whipped her head to the side and her nose touched Chrollo’s, a hair’s breadth separated their lips. “The world is wide open. And mine for the taking.”

A hush fell between the two and the world went mute around them as the crowd faded into the background. She was all too aware of how close their faces were, but she couldn’t bring herself to shift away.

Chrollo’s black eyes glowed with want as he watched her. She was something out of a dream.

He felt a pang of desire through him so strong it took all his self-control to keep himself from taking her. But he didn’t want to give her a night she could regret. Not when she’s in her high.

Astra felt a palm press against her stomach, feeling the warmth it deigned before it slid upwards gradually. It passed in between her breasts, and she fought the urge to bite her lip. She felt the warmth wrap around her neck softly. Soft enough to avoid entirely disrupting her breathing.

He wanted her so bad, it hurt. But he didn’t want it to stop.

Chrollo tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She breathed, so softly that her lips barely moved.

He found himself closing the short gap between them, turning her chin in his direction with the hand he used around her neck. He looked at her once more as if asking for permission. Astra’s starlit eyes found his, making his blood thrum in his veins.

She slowly closed her eyes, and he took in her beauty once more. Her long lashes, red lips, and straight nose.

Chrollo’s sudden appearance. Chrollo’s bargain. Chrollo’s relationship with her family.

She didn’t have the faintest idea of what any of it meant and how it happened.

And why was he treating her like a damsel? Had he noticed how her father and sister ignored her? Had he been acquainted with Margaux even before her? Is this a plan?

Questions like that should’ve been clouding her mind. But she was too indulged with the fact that standing before her, was the most beautiful man she'd ever met.

Astra turned to twine her arms around his neck and his eyes blazed with hunger. Though she was tall, her neck ached as she matched Chrollo’s gaze with his height, but it abated once Chrollo’s hand found its way to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him.

Never mind the crowd around them. Never mind the questions that’ll follow after. Never mind the sharp gazes Margaux sent her. Never mind the mysteries surrounding Chrollo.

Consequences be damned.

[banana-with-a-bow-tie]

"The gist of it is what many people call “social anxiety” the Bible calls “fear of man” which is really just plain old pride. We want the people around us to think as highly of us as we think of ourselves." - To an extent, I'm going to have to respectfully disagree, at least for my case. I'm not afraid people aren't going to think as highly of me as I think of myself because, I don't think highly of myself at all, I have very low self-esteem most of the time. ***

*** My problem is that I lack confidence; I don't love myself as much as God and everybody else loves me, and I don't feel like I'm worthy of being the child of God that he wants me to be, especially because I am still struggling with my own sinful habits and worldly desires despite having been saved. Sometimes I feel like I am completely unhelpable (if that's even a real word), even though I know I don't deserve to be helped.

This is exactly what Satan wants you to think and it’s entirely backwards. The world tells you that you need other people and even God to meet your love needs and that you also need to love yourself in order to accept their love. But all of this centers your attention entirely on you. Self becomes the center of the universe, and the Bible condemns that way of thinking. Selfish ambition, the pursuit to satisfy all your own feelings and desires, always leads to wickedness and judgment (Phil 3:16, Rom 2:8). You say you don’t love yourself, but think about it, when you love someone, you care about them, you desire good things for them, you want to help and serve them. When you hate someone, you desire their harm and want to avoid them rather than help them. Do you really desire bad things to happen to you? Do you go out of your way to make sure you don’t get the things you want? You may have some unrealistic expectations or unhealthy desires for yourself or some ineffective methods in reaching your goals, but no one has any issue in loving themselves and giving themselves what they want. That’s the problem. Our selfish desires rule us so that we have to obey them to find satisfaction that will never come. God wants us to do away with our fleshly desires and desire his will alone. When we love Him instead of our sinful desires, He will rule us instead of our pursuit for other people’s approval. Seriously, before you do anything else, go make an Internet Archive account and check out When People Are Big and God Is Small for free. It will really change your perspective on things (though I should offer a disclaimer that it is a photocopy of someone’s personal copy in which they wrote notes I can’t necessarily endorse).

[dark0angel13]

LYHC Chapter five

How long has it been? How many days have passed? How much longer does he have? The questions echo within his mind like a mantra he can’t shut off, and he feels the nausea rise again. It comes faster now, giving him less than a week at full strength before the fatigue sets in once more, and he can’t think of any other word for the feeling that washes over him, other than infuriating. What a fool he’s been, thinking he could control it. He’s nothing but a puppet to the demon that hungers just beneath the surface, waiting for the perfect opportunity to snuff out his existence. It’s terrifying.  

“Sorry I’m late Natsu!” Her voice shatters the chaos within him and his body stiffens. “The train got held up due to maintenance,” she continues and he feels his heart skip into overdrive. “I almost missed our date.” Her smile is bright enough to light up the sky and Natsu finds himself at a loss for words when she’s around.  

Play it cool, he thinks as a sheen of sweat breaks out across his brow. He offers a smile and waves, “don’t worry about it, I haven’t been waiting long.” He leans against the wall to seem relaxed, but deep down he’s holding on for dear life, fighting the dizziness that’s washing over him in waves. He needs to feed. If he doesn’t soon, the shits gonna hit the fan.  

“How was your day?” A simple question that leaves him lost in so many ways. How does he answer that? He doesn’t even know what he does all day. He has no place to call home, no job, no money. His lack of worldly possessions turns his cheeks red with embarrassment. There is no good way for him to answer so he goes for the vague response.  

“Oh, it was okay, I couldn’t wait for our date tonight so I didn’t get much done.” He chuckles and hopes it satisfies her.  

“You know,” she begins, marching up to him with purpose in her stride, “one of these days I’m going to uncover everything about you. What you do, where you live. I want to know everything. We’ve been dating for a week now so it’s only fair I get to know you better.” Though she doesn’t sound mad, the determination ringing in the air has unease overtaking him.  

Where has the time gone? He can’t fathom it’s been a week already. It seems like yesterday he was saving her from the assault. Then he would find himself over her place every chance he got. He loved her company, Hell he loved everything about her. The twinkle in her eyes when she would talk about her work, the giggle she would let out when he pretends to know anything about language and literature. Her very existence made the outside world melt away for the short time they were together; during that time, he was normal. He was human.  

She is his best friend, his tether to reality; his safe haven when his inner demons become too much to bear. They’ve known each other for only a month, but Natsu feels as if he’s known her his entire life. It’s only fair that he opens up to her. A relationship was a two-way street, his sister would say and up until now he didn’t know what she meant. But standing there, staring into the hazel eyes before him, he finally gets it. If he wants to keep her, he needs to meet her half way.  

“If I tell you about myself, you’ll have to promise me one thing.” His lopsided grin distracts her from her probing enough and she raises a brow.  

“Depends on the promise.” She counters effectively. Making a deal with a lawyer was not a smart thing to do by any means, but when had he ever claimed to be just that?  

“You have to promise not to fall in love with me.” The words were out before he had a chance to take them back and his body stiffens. Did he really just say that? Of all the stupid things to say at a moment like that, he chooses the worst one possible. What a fucking idiot.  

His words take her off guard and she freezes, her eyes going wide in what looks like a mixture of shock and confusion before all emotion leaves her face.  

“What makes you think I’ll fall in love with you?” Of all the things she could respond with, she chooses that? Natsu feels a ball of tension in the pit of his stomach. She’s playing hard ball and he’s losing. He’s already said it, he’s got to follow through now.  

Come on Natsu, don’t be a pussy.  

“Because once you get to know me, you’ll realize you can’t live without me.” He’s really digging his own grave but continues before she has a chance to counter, “and in order for you to be happy, you need to live without me.” And there’s the nail in the coffin. If he could smack the shit out of himself right then, he would do so without hesitation. It’s like his lips are moving before consulting his brain and the results are on par with walking into school naked.

Lucy’s silent for what feels like an eternity and he feels his heart race in his chest. This is it, she’s going to dump him right here and now and it will devastate him. He would understand completely, but it would devastate him none the less. After all, why would she want anything to do with him after the cryptic shit that just spewed from his mouth?  

“Who knows,” she begins and he steels himself for the worst. “Maybe the more I find out, the more I’ll love.” Did he really just hear that right? This woman was a god send. “But maybe it will be the other way around. Maybe once you get to know me, you’ll realize that you can’t live without me.” She winks and he sees the corners of her lips curl up into a smile. This woman was something else.  

How naïve she is to assume that he can live without her now. Since he first laid eyes on her, he’s wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his time on earth with her. He wants it more than his body needs blood. But he knows, deep down, that a fairy tale ending is not something that is in his future. If she were smart, she would walk away from him right now. Hell, if he were smart, he never would have saved her. He should have killed her when he had the opportunity. Before he saw her face, heard her voice. It would have been so much easier. Now he has to live knowing that one day, she will find out and the uncertainty of her reaction to his deep dark secret, has fear clutching at his heart.  

“That’s still a ways off though,” her words bring him from his thoughts and he looks to her, loving the smile she wears. “Let’s get through our date first. You promised me a fun evening remember?” Her ability to change the subject so fluidly, makes him realize just how good a lawyer she really is. Her sense of observation is out of this world and if he’s not careful, his dream of being with her will be shattered before his very eyes.  

“I did indeed promise you a date,” Natsu holds out his arm for her to take and when she doesn’t hesitate, his heart skips a beat. “Where would you like to go for dinner my lady?” Being a gentleman doesn’t suit him very well when he kills people on a regular basis, but for her, he would be anything.  

“I’m feeling sushi,” she looks to him, “is that alright with you?” Like he would ever deny her what she wanted?  

“Sushi it is!” He throws his fist into the air and she laughs.  

“Perfect, I know the best place. It’s a little pricy- “  

“Don’t you worry about that. I got you covered.” He cuts her off with an assuring smirk and lets her lead the way. Truth be told, he only has money because he takes it from the people he’s killed. Never their credit cards though. He’s not stupid enough to risk getting caught with someone else’s card in his hand.  

He can hear her talking but it feels like she’s far away. His thoughts are taking over and he’s trying make sure he has enough to pay for dinner. One hundred should be plenty right? He won’t eat much anyway because he needs to feed. He clenches his teeth and silently asks why it couldn’t just let him have tonight. Just let him have his damn date and he can feed tomorrow.  

A wave of dizziness washes over him and he stumbles, but warm hands keep him upright.  

“Are you okay? You’ve been looking really pale since I got here. We don’t have to have dinner tonight if you’re sick.” Though her words sound assuring to him, he can see the disappointment shinning in her eyes. She wants this as much as he does. He’s not going to let her down.  

“I’ll be alright but I gotta run home to get some medicine real fast. You wanna go on ahead and I’ll meet you there?” She doesn’t believe his words and he knows it.  

“If you’re sick, we can reschedule…” her voice fades, almost as if she’s giving him an out and it only serves to piss him off.  

“I want this date more than anything Luce, I’ll be right behind you I promise.” He holds her hand in his and smiles his best smile and that seems to give her the security she needed. Her warmth gives him energy and her presence makes him feel safe. Like he can be himself. He dares not test those waters though.  

“I’ll hold you to that, you have fifteen minutes. If you’re any later I’m making you pay for dessert too.” Her voice is light and they both chuckle before he bows and takes off, doing his best to stay upright until he’s out of eye shot.  

There is no time to be picky, he decides as his eyes lock onto the closest victim to him. An older gentleman, judging by the cane in his hand. His form was shaky and his body frail and Natsu knows this is the best option for quick. He wastes no time in walking up the man, a smile plastered on his face.  

“Hello sir, would you like some help?” The closer he gets, Natsu realizes the man is blind. This couldn’t get any better.  

“Could you turn me in the direction to the park?” His voice sounded warm and a small part of him felt bad for what he’s about to do, but the other part, the part of him that required the kill to survive, urges him on saying it's for the best. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Natsu’s not really sure, but he does know that if he doesn’t feed, his sickness is only going to get worse. If he wants to spend more time with Lucy, he’ll kill anyone in order to make that a reality.  

“Would you like to me take you there? It’s about four blocks from where we are now.” Keep your voice calm and light. Lure him in with your charm, he thinks, offering his arm to the man.  

“That would be much appreciated,” the man replies with a smile. “Thank you for helping an old man like me.”  

No, thank you for helping a monster like me, he wants to say back but holds his thoughts in.

“It’s no problem at all, I was just on my way back home and the park is on my way there.” Which isn’t exactly a lie but the old man doesn’t need to know that.  

“Well thank you- “he pauses and turns to Natsu. “What’s your name? I feel bad calling you ‘boy’.” The sincerity in his tone has Natsu rethinking his plan to kill him.  

“Natsu.” Is all he responds with. There was no point in giving too much away when this man didn’t have much longer to live. The less strings attached, the easier it will be.  

“A nice name to match a nice young man.” Natsu feels his heart clench in his chest. This wasn’t going to be easy by any means.  

The closer they got to the park, the less sure he was of killing this old man. He lived through a large war, lost his wife to cancer two years ago, and is on the outs with his only son. How was Natsu supposed to snuff out the life of someone like that?  

“Stop right there,” a strong voice sounds from behind them and they both freeze, “give me all your cash and your phones. If you turn around, I’ll put a bullet in the old man’s head.” So violent, so menacing; so annoying, Natsu thinks as he raises his arms.  

“Don’t hurt him, my grandfather is blind.” Lying was beginning to come easier to him these days. His entire existence is a lie after all.  

“Do as I say and nothing will happen to him.” The voice says again, closer this time and Natsu feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  

“You’re really going to rob and old blind man and a young man riddled with cancer?” The old man speaks and Natsu feels his blood run cold. He didn’t say anything about having cancer.  

The man curses and silence falls for what feels like eternity before he speaks again, “You’re not worth it anyway.” Seconds later the sound of footsteps retreating echoes in his ears and Natsu visibly relaxes.  

“Looks like he still had a heart underneath his bad decisions.” The man’s voice is light.  

“How did you know I have cancer?” Might as well get right to the point.  

“I’ve been blind since I fought in the war Natsu. Losing my sight allowed my other senses to kick in. I may be blind but I see better than most people.” His words are strong, confident even and Natsu wonders if this old man knew his intentions from the start.  

“Why did you accept my help? You could have gotten here on your own.”

“You seemed like you had an internal battle going on. I thought maybe walking with me would help you figure things out.” God damn this old man and his ability to know things.  

“You’re very intuitive,” Natsu replies, “what’s your name old man?”  

“Ryosuke,” The man chuckles, “Ryosuke Kojima.”  

“Why weren’t you afraid when that guy threatened to kill you?” He’s genuinely curious at this point and enjoying the conversation.  

“Because I had you with me.” His words make Natsu’s heart skip a beat.  

“What could I do. It’s as you said, I have cancer.”  

“Aye, but you also have something no one else does.”  

“And what’s that?” Surely he can’t mean…

“You have the will to survive. I knew your intentions from the moment you walked up to me. You would have protected me so you could kill me yourself. You need it to survive.”  

Natsu is at a complete loss for words and his knees are no longer able to support him. He hits the ground hard and can’t stop the tears that escape him.  

“I’m sorry…” he can’t think of anything else to say. He’s not sure he has the strength to even if he could.  

“No need to apologize my boy, you’re not the first I’ve come across.” His words resonate within him so deep that Natsu finds air hard to come by all of a sudden. How is this possible?  

“Calm down Natsu,” a hand rubs his back, “you’re strong, you can handle this burden.”  

“How can you say that knowing I had every intention of killing you?” He replies through tears.  

The man is silent for a moment before responding, “Because you don’t want to kill me. You hate that you have to, and that was the defining reason behind why I trusted you. You fight the monster within even though you know it will kill you. That’s admirable.”  

“I lose the fight so much…I don’t want to kill people, but if I don’t, I won’t be able to see her…” he’s sobbing at this point but the hand never wavers on his back. Instead the pressure of the touch intensified and it makes him feel a little better.  

“You love her.” It wasn’t a question.  

“Yes. She’s the reason why I continue to kill. If I can stay alive, I’ll get to see her more.” Natsu doesn’t know why, but he feels like he can talk about anything to this man. He feels safe around him. Like he’s able to be himself and it’s such a breath of fresh air he sobs harder  

“Then do whatever it takes to keep her.” Shock races through him. Did he really just hear this man right? He must be imagining it.  

“I don’t understand.”  

“My home is just across the street, come with me.” The man walks away, leaving Natsu to stare after him like an idiot for too long before he’s up and running after him. He doesn’t know why, but Natsu wants to spend more time with Ryosuke.  

The building itself looks ordinary, brick exterior with fire escapes at every level, but the inside makes him feel at home immediately. Ground floor apartment with more space than his grandfather’s entire house. Natsu looks around, his jaw slack, as he takes in his surroundings.  

The floor to ceiling windows are what catch his eye first and he spends a moment just admiring the view, saddened that the old man can’t see it too. The place itself is cozy, the main area being a living and kitchen combo.  Natsu nods absently. Yes, he thinks, this is a nice place and it feels welcoming to him. The only other thing he notices, is that there isn’t a single thing on the floor that Ryosuke can trip on and he wonders how the man keeps such a tidy house. Oh well, a question for another day.

“It’s not much but it’s home.” Ryosuke smiles and sits in one of the chairs.  

Not much? Natsu thinks enviously, you have a home. You have a place to call your own. That’s more than I have.  

“You have a very nice home.” What else is he supposed to say to that? Gee I wish I had a home like this. Hell, I wish I had a home period.  

“In the freezer, you’ll find what you need. Place it in the microwave for five minutes and you’ll be good to go.” What the fuck was he talking about? Natsu follows his orders, confusion on his face but when his eyes land on a bag of frozen O neg, everything clicks into place.  

“Will this work? Will I be able to survive without killing people?”  

“No, your body will always need fresh blood, this is just a stop gap until you find a better victim.” Ryosuke talks like it’s no big deal, like it’s a normal everyday thing for someone to have to kill people to survive.  

“You make it sound so easy.” Natsu deadpans.  

“If you know where to look, it’s easier than taking candy from a baby.”  

“Where should I look then?”  

“We will talk about that later,” he pauses when the microwave beeps and Natsu downs the glass like it was the last glass of water on earth and he was dying from dehydration. It was warm, thick, and filled him with satisfaction. “That will hold you for now. You need to get back to her right? You said you had fifteen minutes and we’ve used up ten already.”

“Oh, shit my date!” Natsu has completely lost track of time with the events that just unfolded. He has to keep his word to her, but he also wants to stay here and talk to Ryosuke.  

“I have a spare room that I don’t use. You’re welcome to stay with me if you don’t have a place.” This man was a gift from God, Natsu thinks, and as if his body moves on its own, he’s on his knees before him.  

“Thank you so much for your kindness sir! I will never be able to repay this debt.”  

“Get up and go to your date. We will talk more when you return. I’ll leave the key under the mat.”  

“Thank you Ryosuke sir!”  

“Call me Happy. That was my nickname during the war.”  

Natsu leaves after voicing another thank you and he makes a mental note to ask him about the nickname later.  

His body feels lighter, his mind isn’t as clouded and his hunger has subsided along with the nausea and dizziness. Right this moment, Natsu is normal once more and looking forward to his date with Lucy.  

When he fed for the first time, he would test to see how long he could go before he absolutely needed blood again. His max was ten days. By day seven he would get nauseous and dizzy, and by day ten the hallucinations would start again.  

As he’s learned more about himself, he’s come to understand that the more he drinks, the longer he could do between feedings. Slowly but surely, he’s learning to see the signs of when he needs to feed. He needs to be strong for her.

-

-

-

“Did you miss me beautiful?” He opens with a smile as he sits down beside her.  

“Cutting it close I see,” she chuckles and looks at her watch, “you were down to the two-minute mark.”  

“Luckily I made it on time. You might make me read a dictionary as punishment.” He laughs harder when she glares at him.  

“In your case you could stand to learn a few new words.” She retorts easily and he smiles.  

“For you babe, I’d read every dictionary out there.”  

“Awe how sweet,” she returns his smile and sips her drink, “that’s not going to get you out of dessert though.”  

“Fair enough, now let’s eat I’m starving!” Which wasn’t totally wrong, but he’s satisfied one hunger already, now it’s time to satisfy the other hunger within him.  

This was an ‘All You Can Eat’ place so Natsu of course has no problem knocking back five plates of food while Lucy on the other hand was full after two.  

“Hey don’t be down about that, you ate like a champ.”  

“I’m a lady Natsu, I can’t eat so much, I’ll get fat.”  

“I’m a lucky guy,” he wipes his mouth and holds his drink out to her, “I have a smart, beautiful woman who can also eat like no other. You’re special Luce and you’re nowhere near fat. I like a woman who can pack it away. Most girls eat a damn almond and say they’re full. It gets kind of annoying to be honest. You’re a breath of fresh air.”  

The look on her face has his heart going into overdrive. She’s turned a soft shade of red and her hazel eyes are glistening like diamonds. Her look of shock mixed with embarrassment makes him smile at her.  

“Did I say something wrong?”  

“No, it’s just- “she pauses as if she’s thinking, “no one has ever said that to me. Thank you Natsu.”  

The rest of the meal goes by in the blink of an eye and before he knows it, they’re walking back to her place and he’s trying to talk himself into actually kissing her this time. The first date they went on to the fair, ended with him chickening out at her doorstep and running off embarrassed. Not this time, he thinks with resolve. This time he’s gonna kiss her.  

“That was delicious, man I’m so full!” Lucy stretches and rubs her stomach and Natsu chuckles.  

“Got a food baby going on?”  

“Hell yeah. Look at this, I look like I’m four months pregnant! I could totally park in the expectant mother spot if I wanted to!” Her laugh is infectious and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him while she rubs her belly. Not a second later though, she stops mid step and Natsu looks to her confused.

“You okay Luce?”  

“Yeah I’m fine I just…I’ve never said that before.” She looks to him and laughs almost nervous, “I’m so comfortable around you I just can’t help but relax.”  

“That’s a good thing then!” He smiles, “I’m glad you can be comfortable around me Lucy, I want you to be happy.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” They both laugh before he stops and grabs her arm.  

“This is our final stop; they have the best gelato in the city.”  

“Natsu you just ate five plates of food. And I ate two! How can you possibly want dessert?”  

“I promised you dessert, didn’t I?”  

“That was before we ate our weight in sushi.” She counters with a sigh, “and we shared the gyoza.”  

“Yeah but that was dinner. There’s always room for dessert, just like there’s always room for pizza.”  

“I love the way your mind works Natsu.” She laughs but motions to the door, “fine let’s have some gelato.”  

“That’s my girl, pushing through a food baby like a champ.”  

“My stomach is going to explode…” she groans but doesn’t fight the issue.  

They take their sweets to go and eat as they walk and Natsu nods in agreement when Lucy mentions it being the best gelato she’s ever had.  

“I told you so! My sister used to take me there every time she got back from a deployment. It was a reunion of ours.”  

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a sister, that’s such a sweet ritual you two have.”  

Natsu pauses for only a second but it’s long enough for her to notice.  

“Why does it sound like you don’t do it anymore?”  

“Because we don’t…” his words cause her smile to fade and he sees she wants to probe for more information but she remains silent, save for the expected ‘I’m sorry’. The rest of the walk is silent and Natsu kicks himself for even bringing his sister up. It’s not like she was dead or anything. In fact, she was very much alive. It would take an entire army to beat Erza. No, it was Natsu who was ‘dead’. He even went to his own funeral and watched her sob into his closed casket. Closed because when the police found his drivers body, they couldn’t find his. Nothing has ever shaken him to his core like seeing her cry.  

“Thank you.” He says out of the blue and she looks to him confused.  

“For?”  

“For not prying.” He stops outside the building and turns to her, “It still hurts to talk about, so be patient with me.”  

“No need to apologize Natsu, I’ll be here to talk when you want to. There’s no rush.” She smiles and places her hand on his cheek, “I want you to be comfortable with me as well.”  

He smiles and leans into her touch, loving the warmth she radiates. A moment passes before he concedes to the end of their date and opens the door for her. “After you, my lady.”  

“Such a gentleman you are.” She jokes and stops at the door to her unit, “thank you for walking me home.” Her smile is genuine and Natsu feels his palms get sweaty. This is it, he thinks to himself. Don’t be a pussy this time.  

“Would you want to go out again next Friday?” He’s nervous when he speaks now and she laughs.  

“I’d love to. There’s a cosmic bowling place about twenty minutes from here that I think you would like. Come by here around eight Friday night and I’ll drive us.”  

“That sounds like a lot of fun I can’t wait!”  

“You always sound so nervous when you ask me out. You did on our first date and you do tonight. Don’t be nervous Natsu, I’m not going anywhere.” She takes the initiative and leans up on her toes to place a soft kiss on his lips.  

He’s taken aback at first, his body stiffening automatically before he closes his eyes and leans into her, his arms wrapping around her to hold her close. He’s on cloud nine. She’s so soft against him, so warm and comforting. He wants to stay there forever. The kiss is tender, hesitant even and she’s pulling back far sooner than he would like, but seeing the blush on her face and the lust in her eyes, is almost too perfect to ignore. She is beautiful and he is a very lucky man.  

“Have a good night Lucy. I’ll see you for our date next Friday.” He bows but casts her a wink as he’s walking away and he swears he hears a squeal of joy from her.  

“Get home sage Natsu,” she calls to him, “and remember, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be there to listen when you want to talk.”  

He nods and watches the door close and all he wants to do is cry.  

It’s not you not being there that I’m worried about…it’s me not being there. He wants to stay with her for the night. But he wants to make sure they’re both ready for that. And in order for him to be ready, he needed to talk to Happy.  

Get home safe. The words are repeating in his brain like a mantra and he smiles. Yes, he finally has a home.  

END

there you go guys! chapter five is FINALLY out. Sorry for the late update but I do hope you all enjoy it! if you’re new to Loving You Has Consequences, you can find the first four chapters on my AO3 account Here

As always, comments are much appreciated and stay tuned for the next chaprter, coming......uh....eventually!

[dfroza]

A pure Church Body

A pure Queen

(A new Eve)

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 11th chapter of the letter of 2nd Corinthians:

Please endure a little foolishness on my part; you have come so far with me already. To be completely honest, I am extremely jealous for you; but it’s the same kind of jealousy God has for you. You see, like an attentive father, I have pledged your hand in marriage and promised to present you as a pure virgin to the One who would be your husband, the Anointed One. But now I’m afraid that as that serpent tricked Eve with his wiles, so your hearts and minds will be tricked and you will stray from the single-minded love and pure devotion to Him. So then, if someone comes along and presents you with a Jesus different from the one we told you about, or if you receive a spirit different from the one gifted through our Lord Jesus, or even if you hear a gospel different from the one you heard through us; then you’re ready to go with it.

I consider myself in league with the so-called great emissaries; I lack nothing. Even if I’m not the greatest speaker, I make up for it by what I know of God and have proved it time and again to you. Was it a sin to humble myself and serve you so that you might be lifted up? Did I wrong you somehow by instructing you in the good news of God without charge? In a sense, I robbed other churches by accepting their support just so I could serve you. If any need arose while I was with you, I didn’t trouble anyone. When the brothers and sisters arrived from Macedonia, they covered all my needs so that I didn’t become a burden to any of you; and I plan on keeping it that way. For I tell you, as the truth of the Anointed One lives in me, I will continue to boast about this all throughout Achaia. Why am I doing this? It’s not because I don’t love you—God knows I do— but I will continue doing what I am doing to cut off any opportunity—clearly some are looking for one—for these false emissaries, these low-down, untrustworthy preachers, these posers who act as emissaries of the Anointed, to claim that they work under the same terms that we do. No wonder they are so good at it. Satan himself poses as a messenger of heavenly light, so why should we expect less from his servants—plodding over the earth, pretending to be ministers of righteousness—but in the end, they’ll get what’s coming to them.

So as I said before, please don’t mark me a fool; but if you must, then please accept me even as that and give me a little more room to boast. What I am saying now is not in character with our Lord but is the bragging of a self-assured fool. Just as other fools brag according to their worldly accomplishments, so I, too, will have to boast; meanwhile, you—so wise, so tolerant—gladly bear this kind of foolishness. How easily you tolerate becoming another’s slave, having them consume you, letting them rob you blind, or allowing them to edge their way past you or slap you in the face. Embarrassingly I admit that next to them we must look very weak!

But in whatever way they dare to boast—remember, I’m speaking in character as a fool—I dare to boast even more! Are they Hebrews, God’s chosen? So am I. Are they true Israelites? So am I. Are they descendants of Abraham? So am I. Are they servants to the Anointed One, the Liberating King? I am even more so! (I can’t believe how foolish I sound.) I have worked harder for God’s kingdom, taken more beatings, been dragged in and out of prisons, and have been eye-to-eye with death. Five times I have withstood thirty-nine lashes from Jewish authorities, three times I was battered with rods, once I was almost stoned to death, three times I was shipwrecked, and I spent one day and night adrift on the sea. I have been on many journeys and faced the most extreme circumstances: perilous rivers, violent thieves, and threats by my own people and by the Gentile outsiders alike. I have faced dangers in the city, in the wilderness, and at sea; and danger from spies among our brothers and sisters. I have survived toil and hardships, sleepless nights, hunger and thirst without a crumb in sight, bare to the cold. As if these external trials weren’t enough, there is the daily stress I feel and anxiety I carry for all the churches under my care. Who is weak without this arousing my empathy? Who gets hurt and offended without this inciting my burning anger?

So as you can see, if I have to boast, I will, but only in my own weaknesses. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus, He who is worthy of eternal blessing, can confirm that I am telling you the truth. Once, in Damascus, the governor under King Aretas had his people in the city looking for me in order to arrest me. But I crouched in a basket and was lowered out of a window in the city wall, and I narrowly escaped his tight grip.

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 11 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Paul’s tone changes. Some believe chapters 10–13 may be from his second letter “covered with tears” (2:4). His rebuke and strong warning are meant to lead the Corinthians lovingly to repentance.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 28th chapter of the book of Jeremiah:

One day in the fifth month of the same year (this was early in the reign of King Zedekiah of Judah, the fourth year), a prophet from Gibeon named Hananiah (son of Azzur) contradicted me in front of the priests and all the people who had come to worship in the temple of the Eternal.

Hananiah: This is what the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies and God of Israel, says: “I will break the yoke Babylon’s king has placed upon you. Within two years, I will bring back the items King Nebuchadnezzar took from My temple and carried away to Babylon. I will also bring back Jeconiah (son of Jehoiakim), king of Judah, and all the exiles from Judah taken with him to Babylon. This is what I, the Eternal One, declare: ‘I will break the yoke that Babylon’s king has placed upon you!’”

Then Jeremiah the prophet addressed Hananiah the prophet in front of the priests and all the people who had come to worship in the temple of the Eternal.

Jeremiah: May it be so! May the Eternal do just as you said. May He confirm that your prophecy is true by bringing back the items stolen from the temple. Better yet, may He bring all of the exiles home from Babylon.

But now hear what I have to say to you and to all these people listening to us: Long before either of us was here, in the days of old, there were prophets who spoke strong words against many nations and kingdoms. They, too, predicted war, famine, and disease; and they have been proven right. Now, as for the prophet who prophecies peace, how are we to know whether he is a true prophet sent by the Eternal? Only when that prediction comes true.

At this point, the prophet Hananiah grabbed the yoke from around Jeremiah’s neck and broke it. He then turned to the people and said:

Hananiah: This is what the Eternal says: “This is how I will break the yoke King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon forced you and all the nations to wear. I will remove it from your neck within two years.”

And with that, the prophet Jeremiah walked away.

Not long after Hananiah had broken the yoke off Jeremiah’s neck, the word of the Eternal came to Jeremiah.

Eternal One: Go to Hananiah and tell him, “This is what the Eternal says: ‘You may have broken a wooden yoke, but now you will get a yoke of iron that you could never break.’ For this is what the Eternal, the Commander of heavenly armies and God of Israel, declares: ‘I have put an iron yoke on the necks of all these nations, and they will serve King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon. Even the wild animals of the field will obey Him.’”

Jeremiah (to Hananiah): Listen, Hananiah! The Eternal has not sent you, but still the people of this nation have believed your lies. So the Eternal now says this to you: “Pay attention. I am about to wipe you from the face of the earth. Because you have stirred up rebellion against Me with your words, you will die this year.”

Later that year, in the seventh month, Hananiah the prophet died.

The Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 28 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, September 28 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about being “lost” in a world that isn’t our True “Home”:

There is a great danger today of fearing the wrong things, and despairing over that which trivial in light of eternity. However honest despair is a gift from God, if it is received as a message to take heed of what is most important.

“And this is the simple truth - that to live is to feel oneself lost. He who accepts it has already begun to find himself, to be on firm ground. Instinctively, as do the shipwrecked, he will look around for something to which to cling, and that tragic, ruthless glance, absolutely sincere, because it is a question of his salvation, will cause him to bring order into the chaos of his life. These are the only genuine ideas; the ideas of the shipwrecked. All the rest is rhetoric, posturing, farce” (Kierkegaard).

Like Jonah we first must be "swallowed up" in consciousness of our own hopelessness before we realize that we are without remedy apart from God's intervention and deliverance. We start there - in the "belly of the fish" - and later are brought forth by God's mercy and grace.

This is the place of the cross, the “narrow gate” that leads to life. As we look to Yeshua, as we lean on him, he reveals more of himself to us.

Hillel the Elder had said, "If I am not for myself then who will be for me? (אם אין אני לי מי לי); But if I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?" (Avot 1:14). Hillel points out here that the language of "I am" (אָנִי) and "for me" (לִי) reveals that we have a relationship with ourselves that must be sanctified and ordered before God.

And as Kierkegaard perceived, the self is “a relation which relates itself to its own self,” that is, the self is always in a state of dialog. A healed self relates itself to God as the Ground of existence, since otherwise irremediable despair will result, eternal lostness within, and everlasting sickness of soul...

The remedy for being a lost self, relating only to itself without any center or ground, is to turn to God and to find your place in God’s love and blessing. As we come to believe that we are accepted and loved despite our many imperfections, inadequacies, and character defects, we find courage to accept ourselves, to “let go” in trust. As Yeshua said, “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it" (Luke 18:17).

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 86:13 Hebrew audio:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm86-13-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page pdf:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm86-13-lesson.pdf

9.27.23 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel 365:

The message is simple and powerful. Obedience to the word of God is not for God’s benefit but for ours. “Go forth for yourself.” God does not need us. We need Him. It is we, not God, who benefit from our obedience to Him.

At the same time, the journey of faith leads us to our true identities; obedience to the word of God allows us to discover who we truly are. “Go forth to yourself”; this journey would lead Abram and his followers to discover their own true selves. It is a journey of self-discovery and an understanding of our purpose and identity.

from an email by Glenn Jackson:

September 28th

THE PURPOSE OF TESTING

...."Until the time came to fulfill his dreams, the Lord tested Joseph's character".... Psalm 105:19

* The more impactful the fulfillment of a dream will be the more intense the testing of our character will become as God moves us forward toward a time and place of fulfillment. The Lord uses the testing of our character to prepare us to be able to handle the duties we will be assigned once we are in a place where we are living out the fulfillment of a dream.

Before Joseph could be used by God to save Israel from a devastating famine he would be abandoned by his brothers, sold to slave traders, and eventually bought by Potiphar to serve in his household. Only by keeping his heart focused on God, not the hardships of his journey or the enticements of life, would he be able to take the next steps toward the fulfillment of the dream he was given. When it seemed all was good and well and on track, Potiphar's wife shows up to test Joseph. His response was to run from temptation. The successful test of Joseph's character landed him in prison. Passing the tests of our character do not always take us to comfortable destinations.

The fulfillment of a dream God gives us is not for us alone. The fulfillment will affect our friends, families, and in some cases, entire nations. No dream is fulfilled without a testing process. At some point, we may find ourselves in what feels like a prison because we chose to do the right thing. In that dark place the dream is still alive for those who choose to believe.

Like it was for Joseph and will be for us, the turnaround event will take place in our personal prison cell, whatever that prison cell might be. Because Joseph remained faithful to the Lord and continued to pass the tests of his integrity, God would be faithful to call Joseph from the prison at just the right time to promote him and use him as a faithful instrument in His hands to save the nation of Israel.

The tests of our character are doorways into the future fulfillment of God's purpose for our lives - doorways that can only be opened when our character has passed the test and we have been proven trustworthy.

•

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

September 28, 2023

The Seven Pillars of Wisdom

“Wisdom hath builded her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars.” (Proverbs 9:1)

The foundation of the house of wisdom is “the fear of the LORD...the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10). One does not finally reach the Lord through much study and the acquisition of much wisdom. The fear of the Lord is the very “beginning of wisdom.” Without a reverent trust in the God of creation and redemption, there can be no true wisdom. “For other foundation can no man lay than...Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11).

Then, erected upon this foundation and supporting all the superstructure of the “house of wisdom” are seven mighty pillars or columns. But what are these? The answer seems to be found in that New Testament book of wisdom, the book of James, where it is said that “if any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God” (James 1:5). Then, “a wise man and endued with knowledge...[will] show out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom” (James 3:13).

Finally, the seven great pillars seem to be listed in James 3:17: “But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy.” The first in the list or central column, carrying more weight than any of the other columns in the structure, is purity. Then there are six outside pillars. One is peaceableness; the next is gentleness; then comes reasonableness (“easy to be entreated”). The next phrase, “full of mercy and good fruits,” connotes helpfulness. The term for “without partiality” actually means humility, and then the final pillar is sincerity.

Thus, a life of genuine wisdom is a life founded upon the fear of the Lord and supported by genuine purity, peaceableness, gentleness, reasonableness, helpfulness, humility, and sincerity. Such a house will never fall! HMM

[halcyon-travesty-blog]

I HAVE SEEN THE NEW DRAGONS MOVIE!!!

I’ve just seen what might be the best movie ever (I don’t live in the States so earlier release!!) and need to process my emotions and discuss discussable points through this rant post, so fairly obvious warning: 

SPOILER WARNING SPOILER WARNING SPOILER WARNING SPOILER WARNING SPOILER WARNING

Alright, you have been warned. 

PS: an edited, spoiler-free version may be posted later

THE HIDDEN WORLD IS AMAZING! Such a beautiful story, a more-than-fitting conclusion to the epic tale of dragons, vikings, love, loss, leadership, growing up, acceptance, strength, becoming who you were always meant to be, and, perhaps most importantly, learning to let go and stand on your own.

I’ll try and sort aspects of the movie by paragraph but this is pretty much just a therapeutic emotional outpouring so here we go. 

First cab off the rank (although it may be obvious), the animation was incredible. The village, the Hidden World, every island and ship and dragon and outfit enriched with vivid colour and intricate detail. The outfits were a particular highlight for me (a la my post a few months ago about their battle suits - they look even better on the big screen); even the updates for characters like Valka and Eret were great. The obvious question I guess is: was the Hidden World itself worth it? A HUGE YES. I thought maybe it would remind me of another other-worldly movie (e.g. James Cameron’s Avatar), but it didn’t; all I could think about was how beautiful the world’s design was, with all the colours and lights, waterfalls and chasms and crystals and, of course, dragons. 

Grimmel was a good villain, nothing ridiculously ground-breaking or whatever, but not a bad bad guy by any means in my opinion. There were also three warlords who had employed him whose roles were very minor and pretty much just a way for him to discover that (prank!) he hadn’t killed all the Night Furies after all. The movie isn’t really about the villain though, he’s more of a plot advancer, a catalyst if you will. 

The Stoick and lil baby Hiccup flashbacks are gorgeous and serve almost as a form of conscience and inspiration for Hiccup: a monologue on love (sparked by a cute “are you gonna get us a new mom?”) that Hiccup recalls when considering letting Toothless go be with his love, the Light Fury, is particularly poignant. 

The Dragon Riders are wonderful and hilarious once again, and a particular highlight of the movie for me was how they were learning to work together more, a la Race to the Edge, especially (sobs) without their dragons. Astrid and Hiccup have many great moments together once again. For those wondering who won between Rufflout and Rufflegs: Ruffnut says she can’t choose between Snotlout’s ego (“I don’t know if he’ll ever love me more than he’ll love himself) and Fishlegs’s meek nerdiness, but at the Hiccstrid wedding says (or maybe jokes) that she chooses Fishlegs because she “likes sensitive guys.” The replacement of TJ Miller is nothing to worry about: it’s noticeable if you listen closely, but definitely not a problem. Ruffnut’s prisoner monologue is a comedic highlight, Tuffnut’s “boy talks” in regard to marriage! (more on that later) are also great, Fishlegs is pretty much just Fishlegs and Snotlout’s banter with Eret and Valka are fun. Our teenage adventurers have grown up, and with growing up comes responsibility, something I’ll explore more in...

Mature Chief Issues (TM)! Hiccup is a young chief with many balls to juggle: raiding trapper ships and rescuing dragons, a dragon overpopulation crisis on Berk, managing viking and dragon priorities, his relationship with Astrid (and the possibility of marriage), threats from enemies across the seas (and the target he has inadvertently made Berk), the legacy of his father (considered one of the greatest chiefs of all time), and (perhaps most importantly) his own self-esteem, acceptance and self-worth, fundamentally the question of his worth without Toothless. This is one of the reasons why I (and many others I suspect) love this franchise so: it deals with mature issues like responsibility and leadership in a meaningful and realistic way. When Hiccup says they’re all going to pack up and leave in search of the Hidden World, he faces opposition and doubt, and as the film progresses he must further contend with the conflict with Grimmel (and events such as Ruffnut getting left behind at the base) and Toothless’s budding relationship with the Light Fury. 

A lot of people have been complaining that the Light Fury has been ‘feminised’, and that she shouldn’t look like she does from a zoological standpoint. I read a particularly good post a while ago by a tumblr user who was a zoologist or something like that (no disrespect intended, just can’t remember exactly); if you can find it I recommend the read. I agree with the points made in those arguments, but can’t help thinking that her design is beautiful, and her personality is definitely not weakened. She glistens in the moonlight and fights with incredible strength and can turn invisible at will for goodness sake. Their love is sweet and wholesome and makes for a breathtaking flight sequence and a funny scene reminiscent of the Hiccup-Toothless bonding and drawing scene in HTTYD1. The dragon babies are cute (although I don’t understand why they’re each blotchy black and white when Night and Light Furies are apparently the same species, so therefore based on gender the kids should be one or the other, but anyway) and the Light Fury provides Toothless with someone to spend his life with in the Hidden World when the dragons go away.

Yes, it happens. We knew it would. “There were dragons when I was a boy” sent me into a flurry of tears, and Hiccup and Toothless’s reunion with their kids at the end of the movie was...I don’t really know what to say. But I’m getting ahead of myself here. The dragons go because, as Hiccup says, “The world doesn’t deserve you”. More enemies would rise to fill Grimmel’s place, and dragons will never be truly safe unless they disappear. I think most movie-goers will know deep down that humans and dragons aren’t going to end up living in the Hidden World together like Hiccup suggests; it is, quite simply, not meant to be. Toothless leaving allows him to complete his journey of becoming, in terms of being an alpha and literally standing (flying) on his own (with a self-functioning prosthetic tail). Toothless leaving is also the final step in Hiccup’s becoming, as he learns that he is strong, can stand on his own and lead, even without his faithful dragon by his side. It is hard, as Astrid says, but he can do it, because he has always been a great viking, and has the support of his friends and family. Letting go takes courage and maturity, but can sometimes be the only way you can become who you are meant to be. Hiccup and Toothless’s parallel journeys are truly something to behold. There is a lot more I would like to say on this, but at the current moment I believe I lack the eloquence to do so. In summary, the moment is beautiful and everything you don’t want it to be. 

On a happier note, THERE’S A HICCSTRID WEDDING!!!!!!! Following much jest and uncertainty (aka foreshadowing) throughout the film, Hiccup and Astrid have a beautiful winter wedding with the whole village present. Gobber cries, Snotlout cries, Fishlegs cries, I cry, you cry, everyone cries. Astrid’s hair is left down, the bride and groom wear white (don’t think vikings actually did wear white but they look awesome so whatever), there’s a couple of traditional viking things and then comes love then comes marriage then comes BABY IN A BABY CARRIAGE!!!!

The auburn-haired girl, perhaps 7 or 8 years old, and the blond-haired boy, maybe 5 or 6, joined their mother and (bearded!) father on an unexplained boat journey to the entrance to the Hidden World, where they meet up with Toothless, the Light Fury and their children and we come full circle, with the kids holding out their hands and Toothless leaning in, an image we know and love all too well. They fly together, we the audience are promised that dragons did exist and may return someday when the world is worthy of them, and the movie ends. 

One of my favourite things about this franchise will always be its maturity and the beauty in simplicity (aka a story of growing up and letting go). I can tell you from the bottom of my heart that this is one of the most beautiful movies I have ever seen and I literally feel privileged to have experienced this story. I cannot recommend it enough and intend to see it again sometime in the next week. More posts and analysis and etcetera will come (apologies for the hiatus - exams and Christmas and yes hectic), especially after it is released in more countries, and I hope everyone loves this film as much as I did. 

[musical-chick-13]

People talk a lot about how judgmental and patronizing people are to single people, how not being part of a romantic or sexual relationship doesn’t make you less than, that being single is a perfectly valid life choice, that people are tired of feeling like they have to be forced into relationships when they’d rather be romantically unattached.

But what happens when you’re single but still want to be in a relationship? When you are trying and wish to date someone, but just can’t find anyone.

I don’t really see anyone talking about that. So, since this is what I do with my blog regarding any topic no one else has written about the way I want, I’m going to.

Sometimes, the feeling of being alone really sucks. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a huge introvert, and I LOVE reading alone in my room at 2am and coming home from rehearsal, making tea, and locking my door, never to speak to another human until I have to do my job the next day.

But sometimes, I want someone to hold me, to kiss me, to go on dates with me and tell me I’m beautiful and loved and who gets me in a way no one else does. It’s not for lack of trying. I crush hard and relatively frequently, and it’s always been on good, reliable, single people I’m compatible with. And I have always made a habit to tell whomever I’m interested in that I have feelings for them (barring a few exceptions, like if said person gets into a new relationship before I have the chance to say anything). I’ve given the “nice guys” a chance because they were there and, well, even if I didn’t like them, I couldn’t find anything wrong with them. (Sidebar, you don’t actually owe anyone anything, you’re never under any obligation to go out with someone.) Dating websites really aren’t for me, though this revelation was achieved through a great deal of deliberate consideration. I meet a lot of different people of various opinions, life experiences, and sexualities through theatre, which is my job, but there still hasn’t been...well, anyone.

It’s not my fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. Circumstances have just not lined up. It isn’t because I’m overly selfish or incompetent or too jealous or not talented enough or because people suck or are shallow and no one could ever find me attractive. A romantic relationship, as much as I want one, has simply never happened. And I would love, and I mean LOVE, to believe that isn’t a reflection on me, that it doesn’t mean anything, that it doesn’t affect my life in any significant way, but...well, it does.

Because on one side, I have all the people telling me that wanting to be paired up is buying into an idealized version of love, and that I am a so-called “bad feminist” for wanting to be in a romantic relationship, instead of being singularly focused on my career or friends. That wanting love outside of myself makes me weak or buys into the patriarchy or is a sign that I have been brainwashed by society and its archaic views.

And then I have the other side that gives me a pitiful look, an insincere and patronizing “Well, you’re still rather young, you’ll find someone,” a glare of poorly-disguised judgment. There is a subtle but distinct divide put up between them and me, the people who are “worldly,” who know their way around a relationship, who have experienced the feeling of wanting and being wanted back. A feeling which, apparently, makes it harder for them to meaningfully relate to me, having not personally experienced it. I am cut out of conversations at parties and while getting ready in dressing rooms because I have nothing to offer in regard to relationship gossip. It is automatically assumed during discussions of being an adult or dealing with mature topics that I cannot possibly know what I’m talking about because the lack of having had a romantic relationship somehow makes me completely naive and unable to offer advice or worthwhile personal anecdotes. I try to talk about the struggles of dating, and no one can relate to me because they all have experience that I, for a variety of reasons, simply lack.

And this...can easily take its toll on a person. Sometimes, I feel very lonely, not because I need someone with me at all times or think that being romantically involved is Super Important Above All Else, but simply because I am cut off from a part of life and personal experience (or conversely, enlightened singlehood and active rejection of that experience) most people seem to have.

I do not personally know one single person with any capacity for romantic attraction who has also never been in a relationship, and while I would, ideally, take the opportunity to celebrate my uniqueness among my circle of friends and acquaintances because my uniquenesses are, by definition, what make me me, all it has done is make me feel isolated, pathetic, and alone.

I don’t think I deserve to feel like that. I don’t think any single person deserves to feel like that. Who I am as a person isn’t defined by whether or not someone’s brain produces the same happy love chemicals at the same time mine does. I am not my relationship status (or lack thereof). I am simply me. A musician, a loyal friend, an advocate of mental health reform, a proud member of the bisexual community, a lover of flawed fantasy TV and obscure musical comedies, a curious woman on a quest for knowledge who does calculus for fun and reads too much Good Omens fanfiction. Just to name a few things. And although other people’s opinions don’t really matter, I still wish they would see that instead of Poor Area Single Who Needs Help.

I don’t have any answers. I...don’t really know how to deal with this or what I hoped to accomplish by writing this out. But I do know that I haven’t really seen this particular experience described in a way I could relate to, and, well, I’ve found that discussing my feelings through writing helps me to better deal with them. And if I can help anyone also feeling these things to feel less alone, then all the better. I do think we tend to commodify romantic love, and I think sometimes we can lose sight of just how much that can hurt people. Even people actively seeking it.

And there is nothing wrong with seeking it. Just as there is nothing wrong with not having it. My heart is my own and doesn’t rely on someone else’s feelings or proximity to keep beating. That’s not how human anatomy works. And as we reevaluate our ideals and what things like self-love and feminism and happiness truly mean, I hope we can all collectively realize that.

[xmagicxshopx]

The Magicians - Chapter 1

BTS Fanfic Series

Genre: Fantasy Adventure with a hint of Romance, some Comedy in there too Rating: PG-13 Warnings: None at the moment Pairing: OT7 x reader (but will eventually become Jungkook x reader) Notes: magicians!bts au. They are not the idols we all know and love. Single quote marks ‘ ‘ are for thoughts and double “ “ are for talking. Additional Notes: This is raw, not proofread content you’re reading. My eyes are shot so I’ll proofread it once my eyes don’t feel like they’re going to burst out of their sockets. XD

SERIES MASTERLIST

Aimless. Pointless. You were walking around aimlessly with no particular point of direction in mind. A crossroads of sorts. That’s where you found yourself in this very moment. Both literally and figuratively. One path would lead you back to your apartment. Back to your normal, boring life. A boring nine to five job that barely paid the bills and gave you enough food to eat. Not really anyone you could call a friend. And your family? Well.....yeah. That’s another story for another day.

Purpose. You lacked purpose in your life. There was nothing exciting going on in your life but you knew deep down that was at least partly your own fault. Closing yourself off from others. Never opening your heart for fear of getting hurt. But closing yourself off......what was the point of existing if you weren’t going to live your life? It was all much too deep for you and every time you tried to think about it, it just made your mood worse.

“What’s the point? No one’s waiting at home for me anyway.”

And so you took the opposite path. The path that would lead you farther away from the only place you could remotely call home. Wasn’t like there was much there to miss. You lived on the shadier part of town anyhow. There wasn’t even much in your apartment worth stealing. Nothing you were going to miss, anyhow.

Pulling your thin jacket tighter around yourself, you noticed something up ahead. A building. And.....it was on fire??? Fight or Flight mode tried to kick in but your feet were figuratively frozen to the ground. Muscles tensed in panic and stress but never once made a move to carry your body away from the heated mess. There was a small voice in the back of your head telling you to......go inside? To check it out?

‘There could be someone in there. They could be in trouble.’

Well that certainly weighed on your conscience. Finding your ability to breathe, you took a deep breath and started running towards the burning building. What did you have to lose, right? It wasn’t like you had anyone to miss you. By the time you made it to what appeared to be the back of the building, you were already huffing and puffing. Exercise. Maybe you could take up exercising as a hobby? Yeah. Right. Funny.

Anyhow, it was hard to catch your breath properly thanks to all the smoke that was billowing out of the doors. One door had been flung nearly clean off its hinges as it was hanging by a thread. Meanwhile, there was another entrance where the door had apparently disappeared completely. Next to it there was a poster board sign that had THIS WAY written on it along with an arrow directing to the door itself. Well now......

The fire looked pretty bad and while she couldn’t hear any screaming or shouting, that didn’t mean that someone wasn’t in trouble or hurt inside. The real question was, why did she care so much? Why was she putting in all this effort and risking her life for someone who may not even exist? It was as if the building had called out to her; telling her to come and investigate. Weird. Really really weird. With a shrug, you took a careful deep breath and said a bit lazily,

“Well, here goes nothing. It’s been fun.”

Okay. Things just went from weird to weirder. Perhaps you were back in your apartment and just having a really crazy freaky dream and you’d wake up any second now? Nah. Something told you that was just wishful thinking. Instead of flames eating away at your flesh like you anticipated, there was......nothing? Yes. Absolutely nothing.

“What the----”

The flames.....they were just......gone. Had you not seen the damage the building was taking outside only seconds ago, you would have never known there was anything wrong with the place. Sure it looked and smelled dusty and musty but still. There wasn’t a trace of heat coming from any corner of the room. Speaking of room.....the place was kind of creepy.

‘Come forward, my child and claim what you so desperately seek.’

A small sound that....well you weren’t quite sure if you had uttered a squeak, squeal, or yelp. Heck, maybe it was a mixture of the three. Whatever sound it was, you nearly choked on it as you stumbled back a bit. Was that a voice inside your head? It certainly wasn’t your voice. And then you saw it. Or what you thought might be an it. Could have been a him or a her, you supposed.

Masked and menacing looking, sat a figure in what looked like some kind of....ticket booth? Okay. This had to be a dream. A really vivid and realistic appearing dream. And any second now, you were going to wake up and everything would be normal and boring again.....Right?

‘Did I stutter, child? Come forward.’

As if your body had a mind of it’s own, your feet started to shuffle forward towards the ticket booth. What on earth were you doing? This had trouble written all over it. But then again.....you were okay with dying and risking your life for someone only seconds ago, right? So why were you suddenly so scared to approach this masked weirdo? Squaring your shoulders a bit, you walked on your own this time and at a much more confident stride.

‘That’s a good girl. Here. Have this. It’s what you’ve been seeking after all these months. Your biggest wish has been granted. Congratulations.’

What the? Wish? What wish could you possibly have that he would be talking about? Yes, from what you could hear of the masked figure’s voice, it sounded male. By this point, you were standing in front of the ticket booth with your hand subconsciously stretched out and dragging the item closer towards you.

Wow. It was an actual ticket. Inspecting the piece of paper, you could see some strange writing on it. Looked harmless enough. But there was something odd about it. This wasn’t a ticket to any particular form of transportation or location. In fact, the location didn’t even register in your memory and you knew most of the city pretty well.

“The Magic Shop? Where’s that at? The other side of tow---nnn--? Huh???”

And just like that, the ticket booth had vanished before your very eyes. You had looked up from the ticket and everything was gone. The room stayed the same but there was absolutely no trace of a booth or a masked figure. Okay. Things were going from weird to downright creepy at this point. You needed to get the hell out of here and fast. Especially if this was not a dream which you were still feebly wishing it was.

Turning around so fast that the room spun, you started making a mad dash for what you had figured was the door you came through. However, all you were met with was.....nothing. Pitch black nothingness. No doorway, let alone no door. Just.....nothing. Great. You were trapped here.

“Okay. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. I’m going to wake up any second now and it’ll be fine.”

Just then, you could hear laughter. But not the warm, comforting kind of laughter. No. This was that classic sinister laugh that made the hairs on your neck stand up. Wonderful. Great. Fantastic. Just peachy.

‘Be careful what you wish for, child.’

And so there you were. Stuck in a room---a building with no way out and a creepy masked figure’s laughter fading into the darkest corners of said room. What the hell were you supposed to do now? If this wasn’t a dream......and you didn’t have anything to drink while being out......then something extremely weird was going on here. Something.....other worldly.

And that was when you felt a blow to the back of your head and your whole other worldly world went black.

Ouch. That was gonna hurt later.

Silence. That’s what you woke up to as you slowly regained use of your senses. Sense of smell, your sight and your hearing. Granted it was quite bright wherever the hell you were. Wait.....wherever you were........Whoa!

“Easy there. We don’t want you falling over and hitting your head again.”

“Says the guy who nearly cracked her skull open mere hours ago.”

“I didn’t hit her that hard, hyung. Besides. Look at her. She’s right as rain now. Right, gorgeous?”

Insane. You had to be. That’s what it was. Your life had become so bland and boring that you had officially gone insane and this was all just a figment of your imagination to make things interesting. Right? That had to be it. There was no way in Hades this could all be real. Not even close.

However, as your eyes adjusted to the bright, natural light of the room, which you happened to notice was quite different from the dark and musty room you found yourself in earlier, you noticed.....one, two, three, four.......seven??? Seven masked figures were standing in front of you?! Your heart sunk.

“There’s more than one of you!?!? Oh my god! Please! Just kill me! I can’t take this strange dream any more!”

“Hey, whoa whoa. Slow down there, babe. No need to be such a drama queen.”

This made your blood boil. Perhaps you really had lost it. Maybe you weren’t getting good night’s sleep. Well you knew that much. But perhaps it was really starting to get to you. The stresses of life having slowly picked away at you and now here you were, finally cracking under all that pressure. Letting out a bark of laughter, you looked up at the masked figures and bit back in bubbling frustration,

“Drama queen? I’ll show you drama queen. Do you have any idea what my last 24 hours have been like? All I wanted to do was try and save someone from a burning building and now I’m sitting here tied to a freaking cha----Huh???”

Looking down at yourself, you weren’t completely wrong. Yes. You were indeed tied to a chair but......where were the ropes? Or chains? Something? Anything? It was as if you were tied with something.....invisible? Good lord. Was the weirdness ever going to end?

“Jimin, would you like to do the honors?”

“Certainly, hyung.”

This was it, they were finally going to put you out of your misery. One of the masked figures lifted what appeared to be an umbrella. What? What’s with the umbrella? Was he going to stab you to death with it or something? Not exactly the way you pictured dying but you supposed it was better than nothing. Maybe he’d just beat you to death instead.

However, none of that came to pass. There was no stabbing or beating. Instead, you watched the masked figure named Jimin lifting his umbrella and pointing the tip directly at you. Before you knew it, those invisible bounds were falling off of you like actual invisible ropes. What???

“Allow us to introduce ourselves.”

As you sat there feeling almost numb with confusion along with a pounding headache, the seven masked figures slowly removed said masks and.....wow. That wasn’t what you had expected. Not at all. Dang. You could practically hear your own slow whistle in your head.

Seven men stood in front of you. Every single one of them young and freakishly attractive. Had they been sculptured by the gods or something? You honestly had expected them all to look like some kind of creepy looking goblins or perhaps the spawn of the devil himself. But definitely had you never envisioned they’d look so......wow.

“We are Bangtan. The Bangtan Boys. Otherwise known as Bulletproof Boy Scouts. My name is RM.”

“I’m Jhope! Nice to meet you!”

“My name is Jin and I’m the most handsome one here. Just to let you know.”

Some of the males rolled their eyes and if the situation hadn’t been so freaky and weird, you honestly would have laughed at his antics.

“Hmm. Name’s Suga.”

“Oh hyung don’t be such a sourpuss. Hi! My name’s Jimin. Sorry we had to knock you out. I told V not to hit so hard but he didn’t listen.”

“Yah! I was protecting us from witchcraft! You should be thanking me!”

“Oh now look who’s being the drama queen.”

“Guys guys. Just finish introducing yourselves.”

The two males known as Jimin and who you were guessing must have been V, both looked over at the taller male who if you recalled right, was named RM. Both sporting pouts, they nodded and said at the same time,

“Yes, hyung.”

“Anyway, the name’s V. Sorry I had to hit you with a frying pan but I had to make sure you weren’t a witch out to get us or something.”

“A frying pan?! You hit me over the head with a frying pan?! Couldn’t you have picked something a little less----violent!?!?”

“Yah yah. Calm down. We’ll take a look at the damage here in a minute. But we still have one more of us to introduce. Jungkookie?”

The male you had come to remember as Jimin face palmed at the young male next to him while V motioned for the male on the other side of him. Wow....he was kind of.....cute. Unsure eyes stared back at you and you found yourself blushing a little.

“My name is Jungkook. As V had mentioned.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling as if asking why was he stuck with someone as blonde as V. Which that was exactly what he was doing. You would have laughed had it not been for the sudden pounding in your head. The pain taking you by surprise, the whimper slipped past your chapped lips before you could swallow it.

And just like that, the seven young men were all over you; fussing like seven mother hens. You were pretty sure Jimin was the one pulling back and apart your hair to try and inspect the damage while V was desperately trying to defend himself and his actions.

The one you were pretty sure was named Jhope dragged Suga with him; mumbling frantically about finding a wash bin along with a wash cloth. You could have sworn you heard the grumpy shorter male grumble something about......conjuring it up themselves? Huh? Whatever. Must have been from the headache you were struggling to deal with. Must be making you hear things.

Meanwhile, Jin (at least you were pretty sure it was Jin) told the male who you knew to be RM that he was going to be in the kitchen making dinner. Was it really dinner time? Huh. Apparently you had lost all sense of time while being stuck in this weird, crazy, creepy place.

It was then that you felt a hand take yours and you nearly jumped out of your seat. The jerk reaction caused the crown of your head to bump into Jimin’s gentle hands and you both made a sound of surprise. Blinking, you realized it had been RM who took one of your hands in his. After flashing you a warm and what he had hoped was a soothing, reassuring smile, he turned to the last male who had yet to make a move and said softly,

“Jungkook, you have the most accommodating space between all of us, the place seems to like you most, go make up a spot for the young lady here to lay down and rest will you.”

Silently nodding, the young male known as Jungkook spared you one last glance with those soft but hollow eyes of uncertainty and made his way for what you could only conclude must have been his room. After careful inspection by Jimin and V, they had determined that you would be fine and didn’t need stitches. Well at least you had that going for you.

Meanwhile, Jhope was treating you with extra care as he used a warm wet wash cloth to help get rid of the caked blood that had coated some of your hair around the crown of your head. To which V felt the need to vigorously defend himself again; claiming that it wasn’t a lot of blood. You were actually starting to find his desperate attempts to defend himself pretty comical.

“The spot is ready for her, hyung.”

“Excellent, Jungkook. How about you help her to your room, eh?”

“But wait----I have so many questions. What is this place? Why are there no doors to get out? And who are all of you? Why are we here? I don’t understand----”

Soft shushing reached your ears as the tanned male took your hand once again; offering you that same soft and warm reassuring smile.

“I know you have a lot of questions. Heck, we have questions ourselves. But now isn’t the time for that. Despite V’s heart being in the right place, you took a pretty nasty blow to the head. You were out for quite a while. Jin’s cooking dinner. How about you take a nap and when dinner is ready, we can all sit down and ask our questions and see what kind of answers we can get, okay? Jungkook, if you would, please.”

And before you could protest, you were being lifted out of the chair to stand on your own two feet and being passed off onto the young male known as Jungkook. His hand was a little calloused but otherwise gentle as he took your hand in his and started leading the way to where you guessed must have been his room. So it seems like they all have their own room. Were there no more rooms available for them to just dump you in? Why did you have to sleep in a male’s room? More specifically, a male who was a complete stranger to you.

“In here, please.”

You were taken out of your thoughts at Jungkook’s soft voice asking you to step inside first while he held the door open for you. After giving a soft, shy thanks, you stepped inside and was surprised with how roomy it really was. It was almost like a whole apartment. You could see what looked like a connecting bathroom suite and a king sized bed. There was a lounge area with a couple couches and an arm chair. It was nice. Cozy, even.

Stepping in with you, the male made his way casually over to the beanbag chair that he had placed near the foot of the bed and picked up the book that was resting in said chair. After making himself comfortable in the bean filled piece of furniture with book in hand, he glanced up at you as you remained rooted in place near the doorway.

“Well?”

“Um......huh?”

“Wow. V hyung must have really did a number on you. Do you need help getting into bed?”

Flustered. That’s exactly what you had become. Flustered. Feeling the heat rush to your face, you quickly shook your head which of course only made your pounding head ache worse. Your heart was trying to beat in your throat as you watched him raise a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow in curiosity. Finally finding your voice, or what was left of it, you managed to reply weakly,

“A-Ani. I can get in the bed just fine. I guess the headache is making it a bit hard to think straight.”

“He probably gave you a concussion. The pabo. V hyung never really has known his own strength.”

By this time, you had manged to close the distance between yourself and the bed. This was his bed. He had been laying in it and now he was just going to.....give it to you? Glancing over at him, you noticed he had since then put his full attention on the book he was reading; looking perfectly comfortable in the beanbag chair.

“The pills on the nightstand are for you. They’re just normal painkillers. Figured it would help with your headache. I wasn’t sure if you were a water or milk drinker, so I got you a glass of each. I have juice if you’d prefer something sweeter.”

Gosh you were grateful that he had his back to you at the foot of the bed. You were blushing like crazy. But why? He was just being....nice. Right? After stuttering out a soft thanks, you took the glass of water and the two small pills and popped them into your mouth. Swallowing them both in one go, you carefully set the glass of water back down on the night stand and tried to lay down to get comfortable.

It was probably no more than 10 minutes but to you it felt like 20 or even 25 minutes. You just couldn’t sleep. And who could blame you? The last 24 hours had been quite the adventure. Especially since you could now determine that this wasn’t some crazy dream. Your head was spinning with questions and flashbacks of the creepy masked figure. With a heavy sigh, you mumbled shyly in defeat,

“Jungkook?”

“Hmm?”

“Could.......Could you read to me what you’re reading?”

He had been in the middle of turning a page when he suddenly paused like a statue. What felt like several minutes passing of nothing but silence, he finally turned the page and glanced over his shoulder at you; looking quite perplexed.

“You mean like......tell you a bedtime story?”

“Yah. Don’t make me sound like a big baby.”

Letting out a soft snort of amusement, the male smiled and stood up from his seat. You couldn’t help but notice his smile. He looked like a happy bunny rabbit whenever he smiled. Again, he was cute. It made you blush as you tried to fight off this weird sensation of giddiness. Perhaps you really were losing it. Watching him walk over to sit down on the edge of the bed, he rose one of those perfectly shaped eyebrows in a challenge as he asked you as much,

“What if you don’t like what I’m reading?”

“I’ll gladly take a cookbook if that’s what you’ve got.”

With another snort and a couple soft chuckles, Jungkook shook his head in amusement and replied casually,

“Ani ani. Not quite as dry as a cookbook. It’s.....well.....It’s actually my journal.”

“Oh---Oh I mean---You don’t have to read it. I’m sure that’s very personal and---”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind reading it to you. It’s basically a log I’ve made of my time here with the hyungs. I often look back on it for self reflecting purposes.”

Wow. Sounds like he’s been here awhile. You wondered just how long these boys have been stuck in this godforsaken place. And here you were complaining and whining about a mere 24 hours. Heck, probably not even that long. Timidly getting more comfortable, you courageously patted the empty space next to you and spoke shyly in a small voice,

“There’s plenty of room for the both of us if you wanted to lay down too.”

“I prefer reading sitting up. But I suppose I could at least sit next to you. You don’t have cooties or anything, right?”

“Yah, pabo. Shut up and read.”

After the both of your laughter mingled a little, you got settled in deeper into the covers while he himself carefully climbed up onto the bed and in a sitting upright position with his back against the headboard. After clearing his throat a little, you noticed he was starting from the very beginning of the book.

“June 13th,.....”

Wow......they really had been stuck here for a long time. For years. You couldn’t imagine being stuck in this creepy place for so long. And yet here they were. These seven young men trying to live their lives while being stuck in a building with no way out. How had they managed to survive for so long and not lost their sanity? Or even their humanity? Jhope had seemed really nice. Like a ray of sunshine. And Jimin and V were pretty funny when put together in the same room. RM, he had been so kind and gentle with you.

“I searched and searched and searched but couldn’t find a single door. I felt myself going mad. Insane. There had to be a way out. There just had to be, I told myself.”

If you had learned anything from this crazy day, it was that you liked Jungkook’s voice. He made a great storyteller. In fact, it was the very sound of his voice that finally helped lull you to sleep; your pounding headache having dulled tremendously with the help of the painkillers he gave you.

Maybe being stuck here wasn’t so bad after all.

You could learn to make the most of it.

[vaguely-concerned]

empire of ivory here we go!

previous temeraire let’s read here

- um excuuuuse me I have waited two books for us to come back home to britain to see everyone again and now everything is awful and shitty and scary and my fave is leaving and nothing’s how it should be??? no??? this is unfair??????

- tharkay NO please don’t go everything provably goes to hell whenever you leave D:D:D:

(to be fair to him I guess it’s understandable to want some time alone to process the absolute outrageous bullshit he just pulled for a guy he’s known for like four months)

he used his page time well tho; instantly convincing roland of his worth and making her laugh... giving laurence his cup of tea b/c he looked like he needed it more... telling laurence that he’s leaving because he promised to do that much at least... truly the best boy, off to fetch more dragons apparently because it wasn’t quite crazy enough the first time

- god I love jane roland, I’m so glad my two faves got along instantly, between them they could... maybe protect laurence from himself? at least a little??? I can but dream

- I think this is the most emotionally invested I’ve been in a piece of media since that time I spent a few months completely incoherent over uncharted, and naughty dog very kindly held my heart in their hands and chose to be gentle with it in the end but I am not so sure that is how it’s going to be for this series and I am Not Prepared for the suffering

- I love whenever laurence thinks uncomfortably about one of the various and sundry atrocities committed by the government he’s still pledged all his loyalty to. yes william maybe the british empire... is in fact not good and has enough blood on their hands to dye the ocean red. I can’t wait until he connects the dots here (and presumably has a pretty intense crisis if faith about it because it seems like one of the loadbearing structures of his character... actually no wait I’m not ready to see this D:D:D:)

- the little details like the fact that he just calls bb!roland ‘emily’ and harcourt becomes ‘catherine’ so easily in his narration now are so so sweet  

- lord allendale is one of those dudes who have good politics but is a shitheel to his family and I want to smack him

laurence being the mortified poster boy of this party, though? priceless, imagine coming up with a protagonist this effortlessly involuntarily hilarious, it’s the mark of true genius

- I don’t usually quibble over things like this, but I think the edit for this fourth book specifically is a bit lacking? I’ve come across a lot of mistakes even my dumb ass can pick up on already, and I’m only a hundred pages or so in

- caught between crying and cackling at this part b/c like laurence I’m  d e v a s t a t e d  at the thought of temeraire getting sick but also temeraire is just like cheerfully getting laid the whole time

also how did none of the aviators think to give laurence The Talk about giving his dragon The Talk, you all know what he’s like

- oh thank god

- I have spent half of today crying about dragons coughing, how are you this fine evening good reader

- btw this series fills a hole in my soul left by jkr giving me all those tantalizing hints of different types of dragons in ‘fantastic beasts’ and never following up on it

- tharkay may not be here but laurence just mentioned him like once in his narration so let’s take the excuse to reminisce about the good old days (when tharkay was here)... remember that time when the one of his own jokes he laughed openly at was about lawyers and laurence frankly should have responded better b/c it was kind of funny and sadly temeraire doesn’t have the worldly experience to know it yet.... aaah precious, he truly is a sardonic blessing to my heart and deserves the world

okay back to our regularly scheduled content   

- riley why u gotta b such a bitch about this

(I love how laurence is constantly doubting himself over this tho, as if he’s done something wrong in this situation... like honey baby if there’s one thing worth breaking a friendship over it’s probably them being cool with slavery lol. it shows how much laurence has grown, considering that this disagreement has always existed between them but he used to be willing to just overlook it... I’m so proud of you laurence)

also lol @ berkely coming in to tell them everyone can hear them, I have a desperately soft spot for him and maximus. just the image of both of them turning to him ‘united in appalled indignation’ like ‘excuse you???’ and him giving exactly zero fucks... *chef kiss emoji*

- most important information revealed in this book: a) dragons are not widely considered to have committed original sin, thank you reverend erasmus and b) laurence has taken time out of his day at some point to worry about it b/c he’s a dork

(this is the sort of world building I am hopelessly weak to lol)

- gong su tricking temeraire into eating in the most melodramatic way possible... god bless you chef

- fkjhsadkjfhsdkjalhfaskjldhf laurence judging chenery for what he’s wearing while going out into the jungle in full uniform hat included himself... I caaaaan’t

- demane has only appeared on three pages so far but if anything happens to him I’ll kill everyone in this book and then myself

- ‘average dragon speaks one million languages’ factoid actualy statistical error. Temeraire Linguist Georg, who wants a pavilion thank you very much & learns over 10,000 languages each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted <3<3<3

(I love that temeraire is like... a nerd dragon with a hopelessly jock captain)

- laurence effortlessly rating the relative hotness of the other male aviators to try to suss out who harcourt has slept with fjsaldfhsdkljafh do you ever hear yourself think william

like this is the thing about him it’s so easy to headcanon him as bi b/c he can be so mindbogglingly oblivious it’s entirely possible he literally wouldn’t even have noticed until someone smacked him over the head with it

- see I’m very happy they found the cure but I don’t fucking trust it b/c the pattern of these books tends to be to give you one moment of ‘oh phew everything is going to be okay’ about 2/3 into the story and THEN everything goes to hell and fifty pages later laurence is dissociating and napoleon has conquered prussia 

- THERE WE GO RIGHT ON SCHEDULE

temeraire is never going to let laurence go anywhere without him again and rightly so

- hasn’t mrs erasmus been through enough. can’t she just be allowed to chill 

- this is really cool world building but I’m too stressed out to appreciate it

really enjoy the description of architecture tho this sounds so awesome

- sfahdfklsahdfksjda laurence making sure his clothes are as washed and presentable as possible... I can’t with you you beautiful idiot

- TEMERAIRE OH MY GOD IS HE HERE IS LAURENCE HALLUCINATING PLS SAY HE’S ACTUALLY HERE

- ...well I mean if anyone has a freudian excuse for being kind of dickish I guess it would be these guys? it’s actually pretty chill of them to only flog one of them (laurence, because he just can’t play it any way but stupid lawful good at every turn) and not just killing them all I guess, they kept them fed and stuff

- oh thank god

- temeraire you are the most darling dragon boy and I love you

I was really really worried for a moment there that the reference to the Colosseum was a not-so-subtle hint they would have to gladiator fight to the death but thankfully they were basically just calling in a parliament

- DID THIS MOTHERFUCKER JUST STAB A CHILD IN THE STOMACH?? I HOPE HE ACCIDENTALLY SHOOTS HIMSELF IN THE DICK AND DIES pls say demane is going to be okay

- aw okay finally something good for mrs erasmus I will take it

- laurence you useless fool of a narrator is demane okay?? 

- god roland is just so cool naomi novik really gave us a jovial butch silver fox aviator lady huh... she did that for us and I for one am full of gratitude

- oh thank GOD (hm I sense a running theme here lol) the kid is going to be okay I can breathe again

- iskierka the pirate captain + temeraire’s reaction... perfect

- ;____________; I would lay down my life for temeraire and also that’s a gutpunch of a moodswing... the perfect hilarity of ‘that is an ugly hill’ immediately followed by That... jesus

- awww every time volly shows up again is a joy (temrer!!!)

- laurence... laurence you need to stop asking people to marry you because you never actually really fucking mean it!!!!! have you learned nothing about yourself since book 1, trust your goddamn instincts for once in your life you and roland have been doing perfectly okay thus far as like... affectionate fuckbuddies right? 

(her reaction was priceless tho god bless)

- aaaah there we go the british government is looking more like itself... welcome to the world of realpolitik laurence I’m really sorry :(

- “It is only dragons, you know” JANE ROLAND WTF DID YOU JUST SAY

- “This government is not of my party; my king is ill and mad; but still I am his subject. You have sworn no oath, but I have.” He paused. “I have given my word.”

:) this is... fine

(like. I know this is necessary character growth and he’s basically been a waste of a good man in service to a government like this the whole time and the writing’s been on the wall since book 1 but I don’t want this to be happening to hiiiiim)

- tfw... ur dragon boi is so good... that being anything less than good for him in turn is unthinkable...................... b o i

- ...jane doesn’t really know him very well if she didn’t see this coming from a mile off tho does she

I mean I guess she has other stuff to think about but this shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone

- remember when he thought the entire corps was weird and now he’s finally at home there... and has to leave it behind :):):) super extra fine is what this is

- yeah okay laurence definitely has a crush on ol’ bonaparte noting that down lol he’s all but blushing after that kiss on the cheek 

also... if you just overlook the dictator thing for a moment is napoleon wrong about what he’s saying tho. (no and not even laurence is prepared to say so he’s just going to go back there and get murdered anyway b/c idk lawful good is dumb as fuck sometimes I guess)

It’s really cool how the author shows that napoleon has a better handle on laurence’s psychology after barely meeting him than a lot of people he’s known for years now, though, really adds to his menace and appeal as a character

- wow uh that’s one way to end a book... it’s actually tipped over from tragedy into a strange sort of hilarity for me now: he literally got sued out of his life’s earnings for being a decent human being, committed treason for the same reason and is about to be hanged for thinking genocide might have been a step too far -- in the span of thirty pages. I believe ‘that escalated quickly’ is not too much of an exaggeration here

- SIPHO IS GONNA WRITE BOOKS ONE DAY YOU GUYS!!!! I PROUDLY WELCOME OUR SECOND NERD TO THE CREW

 - I think this one might be my least favorite so far? not that I disliked it, it’s just the one that’s hit the worst by the fact that there’s not always that much time spent with the cultures central to the book; tswana seems really interesting but because of the way the plot played out and our limited perspective though laurence it just didn’t work for me? the cool shit comes in sipho’s book at the end, like how thoroughly they kicked the europeans out of the coast of africa, which is very cathartic (I will say that most of the second book being set on the ship and then only a sliver of it is actually in china annoyed me too haha) 

I have the distinct feeling this book is setting up for some Misery and breaking of the pattern a bit in the next one though, which will be interesting! ONWARDS TO MORE PAIN AND LAURENCE IS ALREADY PASSIVELY SUICIDAL FROM THE OUTSET SO LIKE... I’M SURE THIS WILL BE REAL FUN :)

maybe my boy will be back tho? silver linings silver linings clinging to some silver linings

[nikxation]

Their End

Summary: An alternate ending for @whatwouldteslado in which Ford still goes into the portal, Stan takes on much more than he can handle, and the people sending asks maybe don’t realize one very important fact until it’s too late..

Don’t even think for a second that you’re getting a happy ending. I’m not that nice.

Warnings: A healthy dose of panic, a pinch of semi-torture, and sprinkle of some not-quite-gonna-live implications.

(Link to AO3)

“im done arguing”

“im getitng my brother back”

Stan slams the device down on the desk, ignoring the couple of papers that slip off the edge of the table with the impact and land on the dirt floor underfoot. The portal, already apparently in the later stages of the charging process if the intensity of the rotating symbols is anything to go by, hums from the next room over, filling in the white noise between the beeps and clicks in the control room. The ground shudders underfoot almost imperceptibly, as if waiting to toss him back in the air again with another gravity any-who what’s-it-called (he can’t remember what they called it). But now he’s ready for it, a long rope securing him to the bolted desk.

Based on Ford’s notes, the portal should be ready any minute now.

Ford…

It’s hard to believe it’s been three whole weeks since he lost him, since he pushed him, since he…

Somehow, it simultaneously feels like it was just yesterday and over thirty years ago, lingering in his mind and burning in the same way that the cold concrete felt under his trembling hands ten years ago.

No man should ever have to live through hearing his brother scream for help like that…

He’d spent almost two weeks trying and failing to get the portal back up and running, feeling beyond out of his element when faced with the other-worldly triangular behemoth the next room other. He spent two weeks knowing that what he was doing was essentially hopeless, only having the benefit of the first of his brother’s journals, the one that he should’ve just taken and left with like Ford wanted.

It was beyond-a-doubt the worst two weeks of his life.

And that was saying something.

But then he’d found Ford’s weird little device, partially hidden under mounds of paper on the dining room table, probably from when Ford had been moving stuff around before showing him downstairs.

A little dot in the corner of the screen had been blinking.

He wasn’t sure what to think of the thing, but once he managed to turn it on, there was suddenly a barrage of messages. Questions and concerns and so many No-Names and so much fear and worry and so many people asking for Ford.

He typed the first thing he could figure to say.

“what the hell is this?”

They were much more supportive than he thought they would be, all things considered. They explained everything, in as much detail as they could, giving him answers to questions he never thought to ask, telling him almost exactly where to find the other two journals, that those barrels on the porch were the fuel he needed, what had happened to his brother.

The majority of them were an alright bunch, barring the fact that he knew for sure they all had some ulterior motive, some secrets they never really divulged.

How did they know so much?

But he’d take any help he can get.

He spent that night reading, pouring over all of Ford’s entries and answers and questions and…

Some of it… Some of it was a little hard to stomach.

He tries not to think about it.

He doesn’t want to think about it.

But he was able to piece together some semblance of a story, even if it reeked of insanity on Ford’s part.

He’s not sure what would be worse to believe: Ford losing his mind, or demons really existing.

The people (No-Names, he began calling the users that hid behind anonymity) gave him the information he needed, and what should have taken him decades to complete only wound up taking him a week.

And now it’s ready.

He’s finally ready to open it, to fix his mistake (finally… finally he fixes something for once).

And then they… they tried to tell him not to?

It doesn’t make any sense to him, why half of them all of a sudden decided to jump ship and begged him to stop.

It doesn’t make any sense.

Why would they tell him where the Journals are? What the passwords should be? What to use the chained barrels on the front porch for? What Sixer’s ridiculous codes said?

Why would they help him and then turn on him out of the blue?

He doesn’t see the end game, doesn’t see the over-arching idea. Sure, not everyone flipped on him, a few of the No-Names still sending him help and codes and locations and information. But the device’s mailbox slowly filled with more and more warnings, cryptic messages, outlandish stories, guesses, and nonsense. He knows there’s a group of them working together somehow. He knows it’s the ones trying to ask him to stop because they sometimes turn off the mask, as if he’ll trust a fake name over a lack of one. As if “aniXXXXrose” or “XXXXtato” or any of them actually mean something.

He’s so close.

The light on the phone screen blinks, letting him know that there are new messages to ignore.

He finds he’s a million times more interested in the light coming from the other room.

Just a little—

There’s a flash, a blinding white light, every hair on his body standing on end as the portal shrieks awake, like a beast brought back to life, his whole body going completely weightless for a fraction of a second.

When the spots clear from his eyes, the first thing he realizes is that what used to be bluish light shining from the hole in the triangular structure is now an inky blackness that seems to reach for miles through the ten-foot-tall hole, the darkness itself shifting and unstable deep within.

He rushes into the other room, practically tripping over his own feet to get there faster, stretching as far as the rope will allow him to go through the doorway.

For some reason, he grabs the device as he goes.

The portal is still humming, low and constant, the twin beams of light on either side pulsing and radiating enough heat to make him immediately break out into a sweat. But his attention is completely on the darkness, searching it for a sign, anything, any shred of Ford’s existence in the turmoil.

“The Nightmare Realm” they had called it.

He doesn’t see what all the fuss is abou—

There’s a sound.

He… he can’t immediately place it, not from underneath the thrum of the portal.

But there’s something.

“Ford!” he screams. “Ford! Can you hear me? Sixer!”

He waits a moment, but he doesn’t get an answer.

The sound gets a little louder.

Almost subconsciously, he pulls out the device and types.

“portals open. so much for the “end of the world” yall were worried about”

He doesn’t know why he types it out. Maybe to rub it in their faces.

“Ford! You there, buddy?”

Still nothing.

The black space inside the portal ripples and folds in waves.

He quickly unknots the rope, stepping closer to the portal.

“Ford! Can you hear me?”

They had promised he wasn’t dead, that they weren’t just guessing, but that they knew. It was the hardest and easiest part to believe, that he hadn’t accidentally killed his own brother.

They swore to him that Ford wasn’t dead. Does it even mean anything coming from complete strangers?

But that was also around the time when they all started to turn on him too.

That sound…

It almost sounds like…

Laughter?

“Ford?”

No, not Ford. Much too high-pitched, too nasally. This is someone else. Something else.

They had warned him of something else being over there. Something dangerous.

Maybe this was a bad id—

He shakes the thought, cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling as loud as his voice can manage.

“Ford! It’s open! Come on!”

Still nothing.

Just that same, unnerving laugh, slowly getting louder, as if moving towards him from some far away distance, the black bending and folding and flowing around itself inside the triangle’s eye.

It makes something cold run down his spine.

He glances down at the device screen and pulls up the most recent message.

“ZKHQ JUDYLWB IDOOV DQG HDUWK EHFRPHV VNB”

Did the screen just flicker yellow or was that a reflection?

He ignores it and turns back to the portal, the eerie laughter plainly audible now, filling the room as it continues its crescendo. He calls for Ford again, his words getting caught up and lost in the whirlwind of noise around him, the dark abyss inside the portal’s door roiling, frothing, like a pot of boiling water seconds from overflowing.

He… he doesn’t get it.

He was supposed to be here.

This was supposed to work.

He was supposed to get him back.

Where’s Ford?

They said he already left weeks ago—

No! He didn’t do all this for nothing!

He turns back to the device.

“any idea why this thing is laughing at me?”

He’s trying to be light-hearted about it, trying to make it all seem less unnerving that it actually is.

Trying to make it seem like he’s not panicking more and more with each passing second.

It’s still getting louder…

Getting closer…

The darkness overflows, drips down the side of the portal…

The response is almost instant, the device flashing a million messages per second.

“SHUT IT DOWN NOW!”

“—before it’s too late!”

“He’s coming you need to kill the power—”

“Why didn’t you listen to us Ford’s already—”

“—he’s long gone Stan you need to close it before—"

“…you just caused the apocalypse”

“We’ll meet again. Don’t know where—”

“Stan he’s GONE you need to shut it—"

“If Bill makes it through that’s it—”

“Please for the love of god SHUT IT DOWN.”

“—a completely different DIMENSION by now—"

“���find another way this is just going to get you and the whole town killed.”

“Please Stan.”

“Please—”

“FORD’S NOT THERE WE TRIED TO TELL YOU—”

“—will destroy everything and everyone—”

“CLOSE IT!”

The laughter is louder, echoing around the room from the circle of oozing and bubbling tar inside the portal.

Ford’s not there.

There’s nothing there.

There’s just…

Nothing.

They’re right, and suddenly he knows it with startling clarity.

They warned me and I ignored them.

He hates that he let himself get carried away in this fantasy for so long.

He hates that he believed there was actually a chance that he could fix—

He hates what he has to do.

Hates it.

“how do i shut it down”

The answer takes less than a second, and he’s dashing over to the opposite side of the room.

Three keys, of course.

He, by some miracle, manages to turn them all, using his teeth on the middle one even though it hurts his jaw.

The top of the lever in front of the portal pops open, the red button inside blinking harshly at him. He’s there in a moment, but something in him keeps his hands weighted to his sides, like someone tied lead around them. Something heavy and painful coils inside his stomach at the sight of that button, at the notion that he’s about to ruin Ford’s only chance of coming back home.

That Ford will be gone and it’ll be all his fault.

He’s long gone, Stan. They said so. He’s not there—

But why do you believe them?

The laughter fills the room now, bouncing around the walls in a dreadful cacophony of sound that assaults his ears and drowns out everything else. It’s everywhere, seeming too impossibly loud, the noise pressing inside his head and threatening to tear apart his skull.

It doesn’t take a genius to know that anything that sounds like that can’t be good news.

He hates himself for what he has to do.

He glances back at the portal one last time in vain, putting his back to it once the last drop of hope drains away, the black seeming to take some kind of shape, reaching out towards him—

“I’m sorry Sixer,” he says to the shutdown button, to himself. He closes his eyes. Never could keep you eyes open when you pulled the trigger, huh Pines? “I’ll find another way.”

And he raises his hand over his head and brings it down hard—

But then the laughter stops, the room going deathly silent.

His hand freezes a hair’s width above the button, the red flashing against his skin.

He pauses, listening.

All he hears is the whirring of the portal and his own panicked breathing, his head buzzing from the sudden relative silence.

When did his heart start pounding so fast?

He turns back to the portal.

It’s perfectly normal.

Well, normal in the relative sense.

Whatever he had been seeing, the blackness dripping down the sides, whatever that had been, it’s gone now, no trace of it even existing in the first place on the pristine metal surface. The inside of the portal is still dark, but now it’s… still. Blacker than the darkest night, yes, but there’s no movement, no roiling deep within like he swears he saw moments ago.

He breathes, taking a step back away from the shutdown button, facing the portal full on again.

Whatever it was, it’s gone.

Was there even something there in the first place?

He breathes, trying to bring his pounding heart back to a normal rhythm.

“Got yourself a little worked up there, huh?” he says to himself, snorting. His heart is still thrumming too fast. “Must be something in the water. Makes your head a little crazy. That’s it. Let’s give Ford another minute.”

He knows he sounds crazy, talking to himself. But there’s something about actually saying it out-loud, something more convincing and substantial to it. Maybe whatever made Ford so skittish is starting to get to him too. Maybe it’s something simple like something in the water.

Maybe the laughing and the tar-like boiling inside the portal and the fear were all just in his head.

His sleep-deprived head that’s been filled to the brim with the No-Faces’ crazy stories and ideas.

He takes another step back from the caution line, looking deep into the dark circle, alert but still searching, still hoping.

Give Ford another minute.

He pulls the device out again, fingers faintly shaking as he types.

“false alarm. notihng there. think it’ll be alrihgt if i give it another mi”

BANG!

He jumps, the device falling from his hands as his feet stumble backwards over uneven ground and he loses his footing completely, falling backwards.

He looks up at the portal.

There’s…

There’s a hand.

Huge, almost half the size of the hole itself, materializing out of the black and grabbing onto the edge of the circle, darkness dripping off it like hot tar, hitting the ground and smoking. The metal structure of the portal bends and groans under its fingers, the darkness burning into the metal structure. Another hand stretches out, long tendrils of black clinging to it as it reaches out and takes shape, crashing its grip onto the other side of the circle, black pooling around its fingers and dripping down the gleaming metal structure.

Stan scrambles backwards, his feet not cooperating as he drags himself back away from that thing, unable to look away out of some fascinating sense of dawning horror as it pulls itself through, the ink oozing off in thick globs of pitch and splashing puddles the size of his entire body onto the floor, the thing (triangular in shape, somehow impossibly bigger than the portal itself, getting bigger) finally pulling itself free.

What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?

He watches, frozen with his back pressed flat against the back wall, his chest heaving in and out breaths that he tries to silence but that thing is just floating there and it’s huge and I should have listened to them all when I had the chance I should have hit the button I should have I should have and what did I do—

A bright white eye opens in the middle of the thing’s body, and Stan swears his breathing stops altogether when it instantly fixes its gaze on him, the black covering it bleeding away and revealing sickly yellow underneath—

“WHY IF IT ISN’T GOOD OLE RELIABLE STANLEY PINES!”

The voice, high-pitched and nasally and loud rings through the air, through his head, somehow louder than anything he’s ever heard even though the sound came from nowhere.

They warned him.

The No-Faces warned him, but he didn’t believe them.

A dream demon from another world that has one eye and a triangular body and a top hat and bow tie.

As ridiculous as it sounds, it’s right here.

The thing that’s responsible for this machine.

The thing that’s been terrorizing his brother.

“You’re Bill?” he manages to say, mustering whatever ounce of bravado he has left and pressing his hands flat to the ground to stop them from trembling. The puddle beneath the demon grows, the black seeming to writhe and contort within itself.

“THE ONE AND ONLY!”

The smoke smells like burning flesh, rot and death slowly filling the air and making him feel sick to his stomach.

The demon tips his hat. A goddamn top hat of all things.

“Thought you’d be a lot bigger.”

He braces himself against the wall, pushes himself to his feet, his eyes never once leaving the gigantic being just a few yards in front of him. As he stands, he vaguely realizes he feels lighter somehow, like gravity isn’t entirely working.

Might even be able to jump and get enough height to knock this bastard right in the eye, knock him back into the—

“AND HERE I WAS HOPING YOU’D BE THE ONE STAN PINES OUT THERE WITH SOME SENSE OF SELF-PRESERVATION. YET HERE YOU ARE! STILL FIGHTING YOUR BROTHER’S LOSING BATTLES FOR HIM.” Something appears out of thin air next to Bill. A giant cane, one that he twirls around in his hand, the action generating enough wind to blow at Stan’s hair, before he dramatically plants the end of it into the ground with a loud thunk and casually leans against it. Stan almost thinks he must have stumbled into the Twilight Zone or something, the fear just barely out-weighing the confusion. “THOUGH I MUST SAY, I GUESS I OWE YOU ONE, PINES. OPENING THE DOOR FOR ME. ENDING YOUR OWN WORLD. I COULDN’T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOU! I’M FEELING GENEROUS. HOW ABOUT I DO YOU A FAVOR IN RETURN? WHAT’LL IT BE? MONEY, POWER, YOUR OWN GALAXY? YOU NAME IT.”

“I don’t want your favors. I just want my brother back,” Stan says, digging for any bit of confidence he can get his hands on, not wanting this bastard to see how shaken his is. “So why don’t you take your little favor, shove it where the sun don’t shine, and just go back to whatever Hell you came from.”

“OUCH,” Bill deadpans, rolling his lone eye. “YOU KNOW, FOR A LOSER LIVING ON THE STREETS, YOU’RE QUICK TO DISMISS A POSSIBLE ALLY, STANLEY PINES. YOU WANT FORDSY BACK? WELL, HE HOPPED DIMENSIONS WEEKS AGO. HE’S LONG GONE BY NOW. YOU’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO FIND HIM. NOT ON YOUR OWN.”

“And what? You wanna help me?”

“SURE! I WANT TO SEE HIM AGAIN JUST AS MUCH AS YOU DO, TOUGH GUY. GOT SOME UNFINISHED BUSINESS, STUFF BETWEEN OLD PALS, YOU KNOW HOW IT GOES. I COULD HELP YOU FIND HIM. I’VE GOT GUYS IN EVERY CORNER OF THE MULTIVERSE. YOU JUST POP THROUGH THE PORTAL, I’LL HAVE SOME OF MY GUYS HELP YOU OUT—"

“I’ll stop you right there,” Stan says, and he’s surprised when Bill actually stops talking, the eye squinting in annoyance at having been cut off. Stan takes it as a challenge, plants himself wide, trying to make himself as imposing as he can in front of a literal demon that’s at least 10 times his size. “I can smell a scam from a mile off, and you reek pal.”

His hands are still shaking.

“I don’t want your deals or your favors. I just want you gone. So, you’re gonna get the fuck off my planet and never come back. That’s my deal. And you can either leave the easy way,” Stan reaches into his pocket, fingers sliding comfortably into cool brass, “or my way. Take your pick.”

There’s a pregnant pause, Stan poised and ready for the retaliation, for the anger, for a fight.

But Bill just… laughs.

It’s not even the same as before; no sinister undertones, nothing like before when he could have been playing the maniacal villain in a superhero comic. The demon is just… laughing, the sound jammed into Stan’s head, the triangle wheeling backwards, the cane still stuck standing in the ground as Bill kicks his feet like a little child as he floats and rotates back, the last bits of dark sludge finally dripping off.

“OH NO I’M PRACTICALLY SHAKING IN MY NON-EXISTENT BOOTS!” Bill snorts, and Stan finds himself clenching his fists at that, his teeth grinding together hard. Bill finally rights himself, wiping what looks like a tear from his eye. “WHAT’RE YA GONNA DO, TOUGH GUY? PUNCH ME? BECAUSE LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING. ONE OF YOU STANS TRIED IT ONCE.” Bill flashes forward, in his face for a split second, burning red and something angry. “DIDN’T T̶̢̤̯̳͚̲̞́͆͊͂̍͜͝A̶̧̛̯͇̗̠̘͖̝͈͆̐̇́̕͠͝K̴̢̲̙͙̈̌̂̚͘͢͜ͅE̵̢̮͙̭̮͕̺͈̿̈̐͌͑͂.”

But then the vision is gone, Bill once again just leaning back on his cane, still snorting out the last of his hysterics as if nothing even happened even though Stan knows it happened because now he’s stumbled backwards, his back almost against the wall.

The bastard’s toying with him.

Stan wills himself to stand his ground, lock his knees so they don’t wobble and look Bill in the eye and tell himself he stands a chance.

He thinks he’s already won. He’s cocky, and he thinks he’s already won. That’s what I have to take advantage of. That’s my shot.

All the words of the No-Faces rise to his mind unbidden, claiming unlimited power and no chance of survival or winning should Bill get through.

Stan knows something about long odds.

They’re the only reason he’s alive at this rate.

A knife just missing any vital organs.

A prison break right before Rico’s gang planned to off him.

A throw-away bet that cashes in big and lets him eat something not out of a dumpster for the first time in weeks.

Call it fate, luck, skill, personality, whatever it is; it’s saved his ass more than once.

He prays to whatever god is out there that it’ll save him this time too.

This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

“Well maybe I’m not the first to try it,” he says, his voice steadier than it has any right to be. “But I bet none of them were as good of a shot as me!” He jumps, throwing himself upwards with every ounce of strength he has and letting the lack of gravity carry him to eye-level with the triangle, his momentum carrying him forward as he whips the knuckledusters out, brass gleaming under the fluorescent lights overhead.

It’s all a split-second, really.

A split-second during which he thinks maybe he got the drop on him, maybe he stands a—

It’s like he hits a wall, the way his entire body jolts to a hard stop mid-air with his fist just inches away from Bill’s eye, hovering frozen as if something reached up and grabbed him even though he knows nothing did.

The eye squints in amusement, something akin to a tsk tsk filling his ears, his head.

He… he can’t move.

Bill looks about as amused as a triangle with one eye possibly could, and Stan can’t move. The only plan he had, his only way out, it didn’t work.

He’s… stuck.

Stall for time. Figure out another plan. You’ve gotten out of worse. Haven’t you?

He realizes the full extent of how vulnerable he is right now. How there’s nothing he can do, no matter how hard he strains, no matter how he tries.

He’s completely at Bill’s mercy.

Everyone is.

Think think think.

I didn’t mean for this to happen.

There has to be another way out.

I screwed everything up again.

Ford, I’m sorry.

“YOU STANS, ALL THE SAME. ALWAYS PUNCHING. NEVER TRYING ANYTHING ORIGINAL FOR ONCE IN YOUR STUPID LITTLE LIVES.”

Keep him talking. Stall for… something. Anything.

“Well why don’t you square up then? Even the odds a little.” Bill’s right in his face, his eye squinting slightly.

“OR I COULD JUST END YOUR INSIGNIFICANT LITTLE LIFE NICE AND QUICKLY AND PAINFULLY, JUST FOR GOOD MEASURE SINCE SIXER DECIDED TO SKIP TOWN, AND THEN GO DO WHAT I ACTUALLY CAME HERE FOR.”

“And what’s that? What do you even want?”

“THEY DIDN’T TELL YOU?” he raises his hand, something rising from the dirt off behind him and floating towards them, gleaming in the light of the portal.

The device.

Under the glare of the light, Stan realizes its screen is cracked.

Two lone cracks that begin joined at the middle of the top of the screen and then split as they make their way down, each ending in a bottom corner.

“ACTUALLY, I BET THEY TOLD YOU. YOU JUST DIDN’T LISTEN TO THEM, DID YOU SMART GUY? WELL, TOO LATE NOW.” His fist closes fast and hard, something inside Stan twisting painfully as the device crumbles simultaneously with it, a loud crack followed by the crunch of grinding metal as the entire thing smashes into itself with one last dying spark of electricity. “YOU SHOULD’VE TAKE MY OFFER WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE. BUT, EH, NO SKIN OFF MY BONES. HA! BONES! I’VE GOT SOME OF THOSE NOW, I THINK.”

Gravity suddenly grabs him again, Stan plummeting back down to the ground, the hit knocking the wind out of him, his arm landing in a puddle of the thick black tar. It immediately burns through his jacket and scorches his skin like a hot iron, ripping a scream out of him as he scrambles to swat it off, the stuff sticking to his arm and burning and he can’t get it off why won’t it come o—

“YOU SEE, LITTLE FISH, HERE’S WHERE YOU’RE WRONG. I DON’T WANT SOMETHING.”

“I WANT Ẽ̴͇͖̹̞̔͋̈́͜͡V̧̰̪͙̬̭̈̉͌̅̽͡É̢̨̞̟̺͗̆͂̍͆̕͟͠R̸̨͈̱̬̫̼͌͆̈́̍̏̚͡Y̟̤̪̣̺͗̒͌̓͞͠Ţ̬̙͚̥̣̘͍͗̐̍̓̓̅͜H̘̞̞͔̯̲͊̃̇̏̾̚ͅͅI̶͙̱͈͍̺̔̉͋́͆̚Ṇ͈̱͔̰̥̼̄̓̌̊̈̇̏̚̚G̞̳͖̙̥̹̖͂̂͗̊́͂̍͞.”

He’s still trying to tear the stuff off his arm, clawing at it, tears burning rivulets of pain down his cheeks. A shadow slowly looms over top of him, blocking out the last of the light emanating from the portal, but he’s too consumed by the excruciating pain to notice, the black substance clinging to his arm, now almost starting to spread outwards, reaching down to his wrist and up to his elbow, the mass growing and shifting and burning no matter how he screams.

I can’t—

“WELCOME TO WEIRDMAGEDDON, STANLEY PINES.”

He looks up just to meet the demon’s eye, everything blurry and unfocussed and dark but he can see the eye, bright white and slitted and piercing right into his skull—

Ǐ̛̝̰͍̹̣̼̦͍̊̉͒̇̃̇͟ͅT̹̪̻͍͙͖͖̻̓̑̏̐̎̆̀͛̓͜’̷̢̰͈̗͍̥̩́̆͐̐͛͟͝͡S̩̘͕̯̻͇͓̙̮̀̈̐̄͋ T̴̘̝̹̪͖̟͈̽̄͑̓̐̾͘͝O̳̼̼̘̳̹̎̍̀̑͋O̷̞̗̘̙͔̖͊̄͗̒̋̆́͜͢ B̗̖̟͔̤̻̭̓́̐̀̉͆̏͢͠A̙͚̯̱̩̓͋̽̍͌͡ͅḌ̸͎̮̤̺̙̬͋̌̀́̌̊͗͋̀̕ Y̸̛̺̫͓̗̳̐̔͋̔͟ͅȮ̷̧̯̬̖̮̇̅͡͠͡Ŭ̧̘̞̲͊̌̍͑̾̚͠͠ͅ W̸͓̹̳͔̗̭͙̐͆̊̎͘Ơ̤̼̳͕̫̈́̍̀̓̚͘͝͠Ņ̶͕̣̣̦̱̌͗͐̑̒’̶̧̨̯̪̪͙̦̙̿̓̈͆̂́͆̕Ṫ̴͍̹͎̲͉̭̝͎͆̌̒͆́͊̍̐͟͡ B̹̯̺̳̖̮̫̜̆̄̇̏̓̐͋Ë̞̤͙̬̬̽͗̀̆͂̒͝ A̶̼̫̭̘̞̠̯̖̖̺̓̃̌́͆̎͋̑͡͡R̸̢̛͇̠͕̼͖͎͌̓͂͒̾͊̒̏͗͢͟O̸̡̬͙͕̯̹͉̮̓͊̈̓̕͟ͅǓ̴̯̟̰̪͛̅̇̏̓̈̿͗͆͟N̵̲̭̙̝͓̮̑̆̎̂͢͠D̡͔̘͚̣̼̮̤̼́͛͛̒̇́̕͡͞ L̸̤̲͈̺̥̲̞͂̐́́͊̉̿́͘ͅƠ̸̜͓͉̙̖̞̪̂̑͋̏͠N̡̝̣͇̘̫͍̞̗̎̊̆̓͒̐̌̈̕͢͡G̮̠͎̲̣͊̑̃́̏̑̉͢͞ Ę̰͕̰̞̍̾͋̂̾̐N̪͇͈͇͎̳̽̃̐̈̏͂͗́̾́Ò̵̧̮͖̥̲́̆̊̓̆͛̌̾U̧͍̖͕̲̯͆͑̊̋͑͊͌̚͝͞G̨͕͖̤̼̥̙̔͋̃̐̉̐͢͡͠H̘̻̜̪͔͓̟͓̋̊̇̾̓̚͟͝͠ T̷͈͍̗̰̪̳̫̏́̂͆́͆́̕͞Ǫ̨̮̦̱̼̯͗͌̇͌̅͟ S̶̡̨̯͙̯̺̤̞̑̎̌̆͗̏E͓͙̣͇͕̗̻̎̍̀̈́̓͂̓̽͂̆͟͜E̷͎̝͍̦͔̻͎̫̿̇̏̽̄͜͝ͅ I̢̘͉̼̞͌̅͊̓̽̎̌̔͘Ț̶̡̨̧̠̣̻͚̆̂͊͞͡ͅ

“false alarm. notihng there. think it’ll be alrihgt if i give it another mi”

And then a few minutes later.

“Ford, I’m sorry.”

The chaos that ensues in the dimension where the Askers and Watchers reside is quick and confused, people rushing for answers, for solutions, for any piece of information they can get their hands on.

They were right, and they know it.

They hope not, but deep down, they know.

It’s a madhouse.

So lost are they in their scramble that no one is even watching the webpage.

Only a select few see the blog when it happens.

They each tell a different story.

One says the words “YOU LOSE” were posted before immediately being deleted.

Another says that all text on the screen flickered, going from Latin to code to some alien symbolic language and hundreds of others in a matter of seconds.

One or two claim that an imagine of Bill himself flashed on-screen, clear as day.

Whether they’re all telling the truth about it, no one really knows for sure. But they all share a common thread.

They all say that, for a moment, the blog flashed a too-bright yellow, a short burst of color that was almost blinding, much too bright for their screens to have produced.

And then the image cut to static, something loud and horrible blaring through their speakers for a long too long second—

Before the page went completely blank.

The page, the blog, the archive, whatever they each decided to call it.

It was gone.

Completely and utterly gone.

Leaving nothing but an error screen in its wake.

Every post and ask had disappeared.

Every screenshot somehow got corrupted.

All the fan art and pictures were erased or scribbled over.

Even the server archives and note documents were undecipherable or altogether deleted.

It was all gone.

In the end, one thing alone survived.

A constant reminder of the end that they created, that they couldn’t stop.

A lesson on why you should never play with fate and hope to win.

A requiem to the world that they ended.

A broken url.

All that was left was a broken url.

That and, for those that were unfortunate enough to hear it, a distant, echoing laugh that blared through their speakers before it all died.

That was all.

That was their end.

[roadjanus]

Heading to the Dead Sea...lucky we’re not dead...

A Muslim woman’s bathing suit next to a bikini! Border crossing and our YMCA lobby . So beautiful!

First glimpse of Israel...from Jordan height of land.

Heading to the Dead Sea

We thought we had that covered...just a short drive from Aqaba to the north end of the Dead Sea. There we would take a look at that oddity (400 m below sea level). Stay overnight and the next day...over the border to Israel. But of course, 5 hours later we arrive. How did that happen? Well, I’m using that new app — maps.me. It is a wonderful little app that works like google maps but offline. But we’re not too good at operating it as yet. So we set the route but didn’t press start, so it was showing where we were going rather than where we should go. So we ended up on this little road heading out of Wadi Musa, past Little Petra (who knew) and the road got smaller, and twister, and then smaller, and we were climbing up and up and up. And the road got smaller and narrower. An occasional donkey cart. Bedouin settlement. Then nothing. Just that narrow, serpentine road. We eventually came to the height of land. What a view. I think it was our first sighting of Israel. Fabulous. Then we had to come down from that height of land. I closed my eyes.

We came along the Western Jordanian border. There were a lot of very poor people living along this border. Looked like market gardening was the main industry. Until we got to the potash mines at the south end of the Dead Sea. This whole area was poor and extremely ugly. People were living in shacks that used some sort of poly to keep out the wind. This was in great contrast to the beautiful farms in the Jordan Valley. Towns were as poor as anything we ever saw in Africa. Even when we got to what the map said was a resort area we were taken aback by the lack of resort infrastructure. There didn’t seem to be any resorts that were close to the sea. We can see Israel across the sea. This land is so poor that we can’t understand why anyone is fighting over it. Lots of times we’ve said this. The land is so rocky and mountainous. Desert, rock fields.

When we finally reached the north of the sea we drove in circles for quite a time to find the hotel. No signage. Then when we finally reached the hotel we find a fairly new Ramada, with a fence and gate...and a man who checks for bombs. So we passed that test. We got checked in and then discovered that all our worldly goods would have to be handed over in order to eat at the hotel. What a price! Crazy. Who are they feeding at that price. By that time we were pretty tired and a little Hangry. So off we went to a little restaurant that was on the main road. So I go in to check out the menu and while I’m there, Bestie’s Man discovers he can’t open the car door. He’s locked in! Haha. A man steps up to help. Eventually it’s fixed. He’s out! So the restaurant doesn’t have hummus. The man who helped said, “Just go next door to the convenience store and buy some. You can bring it to the restaurant.” And that is what we did. We ordered fried chicken and grilled chicken (the best we’ve had so far this trip— and that is saying something) and brought hummus from next door and had wonderful bread. All for a pittance. And a cat came in from outside and shared our leftovers. Don’t you just love this country! People were so friendly and helpful. The food was so good. The cat was friendly. No more Hangry!

In the morning Bestie and I headed down to the sea. We only had about an hour as the man from the car company was coming to pick up the car and drop us at King Hussein Bridge (Allenby Bridge). I rubbed the mud on, then went into the ocean. A couple who were already there told me to walk in and then sit. so I did. And I floated. It was next to impossible to push my legs down. I know that sounds crazy. So I had to turn and propel myself backwards with my arms until I got to shallow water. It felt unnatural. I’d been warned not to get the water in my eyes or even on my face as it would burn. The mud came off, sort of oily. It stuck to my cuticles and under my nails. It was a ‘sperience!

And off to the crossing. We’d been warned that trouble could be had at this bridge. It is the only crossing for the Palestinians coming from the West Bank. They can cross into Jordan and fly out of their airport or continue into the Middle East. Of course the Israelis are touchy about the Palestinians. The Jordanians are touchy about the Israelis that are coming into their country or going out. So everyone is on edge. The men at the crossing were grim. Uniforms and guns. Not the friendly Jordanians that we’d been encountering incountry. Not that they were unpleasant. Just serious. But we were dropped off and walked into Jordan customs, paid our exit fee and then boarded a shuttle bus that would take us to the Israel border. The system they have set up seems to me to be awkward in the extreme. They take our passports when we pay, (10 Dinars) then we wait, then we go out and put our luggage on the bus, board the bus...all without any instruction. A very nice Chinese man helped us. And a priest also offered assurances that we were doing the right thing and that our passports would be returned. And sure enough, a man came on with a pack of passports and matched them up with the faces on the bus. We paid him the fee to ride the bus. 8.5 Dinars each. What they were doing with those passports I can’t imagine.

We drove awhile, waited awhile. A Jordanian policeman came on and checked a passport or two, looked us over. We drove some more. Checkpoint. Then we were at Israeli customs. Another lineup. Luggage goes through a big scanner. We waited quite a while for it. Took a long time for the luggage to come through. But I had some time to look around. There were women working there. I hadn’t realized how much I missed them. They were, generally, smiling and cheerful, helpful. The men were friendly, although I noticed there were several men just watching. They had security tags on and were just leaning on the wall, watching. Many soldiers with big guns stood around but did not appear threatening to us.

I have to say that the magic word is “Canadian”. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve said this and been fast tracked through security lines, scanner lines. Welcome, Welcome! It’s wonderful to be Canadian.

We got through Israeli customs. So from start to finish, about 3 hours. Not bad. No problems, just waiting.

And we’re in Israel. It is immediately more organized, more European. Everything is done quickly and completely. We get a taxi and we’re off to Jerusalem. The country is neat and tidy. Great road. It is obvious we have left Jordan. It’s 45 minutes to our hotel. So glad to be here

[unexpectedreylo]

Spoilerific Thoughts On “Solo”

Rosé All Day In The GFFA!

As of writing, I’ve seen the movie twice and I really enjoyed it both times.   Forget those tales of a troubled production; Ron Howard made a solidly entertaining, fun film with lots of goodies and surprises for fans of most stripes.

“Solo” is basically a heist movie and a Marvel-esque origin story at the same time.  When we meet Everyone’s Favorite Smuggler, he’s a runaway living in Corellia’s dark and filthy underworld hoping for the big score to get him and his girlfriend Qi’ra away from their Fagin-like “master.”   We march through Han’s escape from Corellia, how he ended up with his last name, his abrupt and necessary decision to go to the Imperial Academy, his time as an Imperial officer, his first meeting with Chewbacca, and his re-entry into the galaxy’s underworld with his mentor, Tobias Beckett.  We witness his first meeting with Lando Calrissian and finding the love of his life, at least the one that isn’t a breathing person, the Millennium Falcon.  The famous sabacc game?  It’s there.  So’s the legendary Kessel Run.  All of the while, Han’s penchant for trouble and not listening to anyone but himself puts him in danger over and over.  It’s all great character development and enjoyable to watch.  But there’s more!  In “Solo,” we see the gray and topsy-turvy world of the galaxy’s criminal class.  Sometimes it appears glamorous and beautiful, sometimes it looks just like what it is:  dirty and awful.  The good turns out to be bad and the bad turns out to be good.  All of the while, Beckett reminds Han never to trust anyone.

So, you might ask, what did you think of Alden Ehrenreich?  Alden was in the same crappy position that Chris Pine was in while playing Captain Kirk in the more recent Star Trek films; it’s very difficult to step into a very famous role played by a very famous actor.  Ewan McGregor had a similar problem but because he played Obi-Wan decades younger, it gave him a lot more wiggle room to define the character himself while making it credible he and Alec Guinness were playing the same guy.  Ehrenreich and Pine were playing their respective roles less than 20 years younger than their more legendary incarnations.  That’s tough.  I’m certain some people are blowing off this film simply because they can’t accept someone else playing Han Solo.  The other side of that coin is it’s precarious in HOW you play the character.  Take on too much of Ford’s affectations, it looks like an impersonation, one that could descend into parody fast.  Completely ignore them and people won’t connect that it’s Han Solo at all.  Now, Ehrenreich doesn’t really look much like Ford.  He’s shorter, his nose is smaller, the whole shape of his face is different.  There’s only a bit of resemblance around the eyes and the makeup people thoughtfully added Ford’s chin scar.  It’s a little jarring when you realize that eventual son Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) really does look related to Ford while Ehrenreich looks like neither one of them.  My mom the movie critic, who saw the movie with me and my brother the first time, thought Ehrenreich is actually better-looking than Ford.  But (and there’s always a but) attitude can make up for a lack of resemblance.  More on that in a second.  For what it’s worth, Ehrenreich does have the right attitude.  It’s like seeing a more boyish Han, one who gets by on b.s. and bluster, who’s a tiny bit full of himself, and who hasn’t experienced a decade’s worth of betrayals yet to come and other things that made him far more world-weary in ANH.  This Han is charming and self-assured, a cinnamon roll whose circumstances define him but won’t defeat him and turn him into well, Qi’ra.  From this movie, it’s easy to see why he was drawn to Rey in TFA.  He saw a lot of himself in her.

Everyone does a pretty bang up job in the film performance-wise.  I have to say Donald Glover absolutely kills it as Lando.  Glover doesn’t really look like Billy Dee Williams but he’s got the Lando-ness down perfectly:  the smoothness, the vague sleaziness, the flair for fashion, and all around cool.  He even nailed Williams’s way of speaking without making it an impersonation.  Glover has so much charisma in the part, I really wouldn’t mind seeing him again in his own adventure.  Woody Harrelson was an excellent fit as Beckett.  Harrelson brings his own charisma and worldliness as the father figure who initiates Han into the life that as prophesized, he never got out of.  Casting him was a great idea.  Also worthy of mention is Phoebe Waller-Bridge as L3-37, or simply “L3.”  Funny and sassy, you’ll be touched by her short time onscreen.  And the mysterious Enfys Nest (Erin Kellyman) who turns out to be not quite what we thought.

The surprise in this turned out to be Emilia Clarke as Qi’ra.  Of all the new characters, she’s easily the most fascinating.  She’s beautiful, smart, resourceful, and tough but also a bit of a femme fatale.  She has a heart but she’s also hungry and hell bent on not ending up a Corellian street rat again.   She is what Han could have been with a few degrees of difference in his personality or more time spent a virtual slave on Corellia, what Rey could have been had she decided to trade on her looks and feminine wiles for material security from crime bosses.  The interesting thing about her is she clearly cares about Han.  I don’t know if she loves him per se but she does care about him enough to know she has to protect him from her.  She’s sort of like that old Amy Winehouse song, “You Know I’m No Good.” Paul Bettany’s character and Beckett both warn Han that he doesn’t know her as well as he thinks he does and that she’s done some pretty bad things.  We know for sure she allied herself with a crime syndicate that has committed atrocities and well, we find out toward the end how far her darkness extends.  She accepts Han’s affections but to a point.  Why?  She knows they can’t get attached.  At the end, when she splits in the mobile Crimson Dawn HQ, it seems to parallel the last Force bond seen in TLJ.  In TLJ, Rey has to do it for her own sake as well as Kylo’s.  In this movie, Qi’ra does it for Han’s own good.  The more he’s kept away from this stuff the better, not so much IMO she fears that lifestyle would destroy him as she realizes at some point her knife has to go between Han’s shoulder blades if he keeps hanging around.

Poor Han.  Not only can the guy never escape trouble, he’s constantly faced with betrayal throughout his life, which it is easy to see why he leans so much on Chewie.  Say what you will about Chewbacca, but he’s the one of the very few beings who never lets Han down.  Sadder yet are the implications of Han’s upbringing and his relationships with authority/father figures.  In one conversation with Lando, Han mentions his blue collar dad that he wasn’t close to.  Who knows what THAT relationship was like?  Han tells his Imperial recruitment officer that he “has no people,” so the officer christens him Solo.  (For all we know, Han’s real last name is Wallbanger or Horowitz or Seymour-Butts.)  Why Han was on the streets is still a mystery.  Did Han simply run away from home?  Was it disagreement and butting heads or was there severe dysfunction, i.e. addiction, abuse, neglect?  Did Han do something to the old man?  We don’t know and it’s not like Han to tell.  Han takes to Beckett as a surrogate father figure who of course betrays him.  Another fascinating and tragic parallel takes place near the end of the movie.  Most people pay attention more to the “Han shot first” aspect of it rather than how this scene predicts Han’s eventual fate in TFA.  Han kills his father figure just as his own son will eventually kill him.  Han of course was acting in self-defense but it’s tragic all the same.  Han’s family situation also predicts the struggles he has in his relationship with Ben Solo.  In this context it makes sense that a man who had no idea what a dad is like would struggle to be one himself, especially since he’s almost or at middle age when it finally happens.

Another thing to love about “Solo” is its careful attention to the mythos.  The film has the style and feel of Brian Daley’s novels from back in the day, while much of Han’s backstory, known to Star Wars lore fans for decades, is in here.  Moreover, elements from the expanded universe, video games, The Clone Wars, and the prequels are brought in to great effect.  Teras Kasi?  Glee Anselm?  The Maw?  Carrida?  Aurra Sing’s fate? Colo claw fish roe as an appetizer?  It’s all in here!

I will say this:  DARTH MAUL’S SHOCK CAMEO GIVES ME LIFE!!!

I blurted out, “What the hell?!”  when he turned up at the end of the film.  (I also had to explain to my brother, who had never seen The Clone Wars or Rebels, why Maul was still alive.)  A surprise to be sure, but a welcome one.  That Qi’ra is working for him has a whole host of implications for her and possibilities for Maul to return in other Star Wars canon.  And yes, that’s Ray Park reprising his role and Sam Witwer voicing him.

“Solo”’s score is pretty good, a mix of original and unique music and John Williams’s classic scores.  Listen for some fun callbacks like “Asteroid Chase” from TESB.

Like “Rogue One,” “Solo” is a smaller movie than the bigger, sweeping main saga flicks.  It doesn’t have TLJ’s artistic ambitions or haunting quality.  But there’s room for a movie that’s pure fun with a few more layers than expected.