#especially not one that stripped it of it’s atmosphere and made it ugly

[icequeen-07]

With the Until Dawn remaster showing stuff I would like to reiterate what the original looked like

[sturrpz-hme-weekly]

Week 2 - What is graceful?

I chose graceful because gracefulness is such a fascinating expression, and I love everything that is smooth and flowy, especially when it comes to music.

It was really exciting trying to demonstrate the gracefulness of my examples. I experienced and saw details that I had never noticed before, and that further showed me how exquisite and beautiful these paintings were.

Each week I will try to read an article from Course Resources, then note down what stuck with me and give my thoughts on the article. Emphasis on try.

I took some notes in class. We watched a video of a woman in distress today, and that scared the hell out of me. It felt so real.

In the first part, I noticed that she was in a really small space, with the wall literally falling apart, with nothing but herself and a small phone, which gave me the sense of stuck, confinement, dead end. The lights turned red as she spoke louder, signifying mental distress. There were screeching noises in the background, but as soon as the phone hung up, it stopped. To me, it felt like the noises in her head had literally got shut down. She was going through really intense moodswings.

In the second part, the desaturated purpleish background just intensifies the bruises on her body and evoked a very uncanny feeling. Similarly to the first part, there were screeching noises when she was screaming, but this time, the lights were flashing, creating an extremely intense atmosphere. It's almost like the lights were flashing in accordance to her heartbeats, and as she calmed down, the lights stopped flashing and the noises stopped.

In the last part, she went from raging to acceptance. Raging is probably not the right word, it's more like desperation. Her desperation is so strong that it just exploded, however, followed by immediate acceptance. It was like she forced that desperation down, because she felt like she was stuck, and the settings became similar to the beginning of the video, which made me feel like it is going to be a cycle: from desperation, trauma to acceptance, and repeat.

In Praises of Shadow (Junichiro Tanizaki)

For so accustomed are we to electric lights that the sight of a naked bulb beneath an ordinary mild glass shade seems simpler and more natural than any attempt to hide it. An insignificant little piece of equipment, when one thinks of it, has had a vast, almost boundless, influence on our culture. Modern man, in his well-lit house, knows nothing of the beauty of gold; but those who lived in the dark houses of the past were not merely captivated by its beauty, they also knew its practical value; for gold, in these dim rooms, must have served the function of a reflector. We find beauty not in the thing itself but in the patterns of shadows, the light and the darkness, that one thing against another creates. A phosphorescent jewel gives off its glow and colour in the dark and loses its beauty in the light of day. Were it not for shadows, there would be no beauty. The curveless body may, by comparison with Western women, be ugly. But our thoughts do not travel to what we cannot see. The unseen for us does not exist. The person who insists upon seeing her ugliness, like the person who would shine a hundred-candlepower light upon the picture alcove, drives away whatever beauty may reside there. I would push back into the shadows the things that come forward too clearly, I would strip away the useless decoration … perhaps we may be allowing at least one mansion where we can turn off the electric lights and see what it is like without them.

My thoughts

While reading, I can’t help but feel a general theme of bias throughout the book. It is clear that the author has deep love and respect for his Japanese culture, but it also seems like he regards Western culture as something very superficial and flashy yet insipid, which in my opinion is not necessary. Both have their own kind of beauty. Regardless, I am fascinated by how the author describes the subtle yet mesmerising beauty of Japanese culture. He has such a beautiful way with words and portrays such a detailed picture of Japanese architecture.

After doing some more research, apparently Junichiro was very fascinated with Western culture when he was young but returned to his Japanese origin as he got older. He saw how the influence from the West was slowly deteriorating the Japanese tradition, and this was one of his essays expressing this issue.

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 5

 - more myth than man... or not? the mortality of tom riddle and the anatomy of a villain-

That leaves us with Ralph Fiennes’ portrayal of adult Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort in movies 4-8.

I generally find adult Tom Riddle disappointing, even in the books, in terms of character depth. Instead of delving into his motivations and the inner psychology of a villain, we get... slight body horror? And in the movies, it’s even more egregious. 

If a story is as good as its villain, adult Tom Riddle is a bit of a let-down, especially on-screen.

“I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost . . . but still, I was alive.”

Perhaps the very first time I watched it, I found this scary, but I must confess that nowadays, Voldemort’s resurrection is more funny to me than anything else. The forked tongue and the nose slits, yes, are supposed to allude to Tom Riddle’s loss of humanity, but I don’t think it...worked out that way in practice.

I know that’s how it is in the books, but ugly equals evil (and vice versa) is a tired trope. not only that, but under the CGI, Lord Voldemort is so difficult to relate to, so inhuman, that it’s hard to (1) see his true depravity (2) connect with him emotionally (3) at least for me, not laugh at him flapping around the graveyard in GOF like an oversized crow. 

Now, the reason I’m going on about this is not (just) me being petty. Lord Voldemort is the Boggart for most of the characters in the HP universe, meaning their greatest fear is Lord Voldemort. He represents Fear; as such, he should be utterly terrifying. Now, I don’t mean horrifying in that sense, but Voldemort’s grand entrance should at least feel somewhat unsettling, have some sort of a Gothic atmosphere...

"But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron."

Visually, this looks great. But it’s not scary. And I’m not a purist by any means, but the words are scarier than the book. Darkness induces fear. 

“The lack of any kind of visual stimuli increases anxiety, uncertainty, and tension.”

So, having Voldemort’s pale body materialize isn’t as scary as it could be.

Furthermore, I think Fiennes’ overexaggerated expressions would actually come across as properly horrifying/threatening rather than funny if they just left his face alone. Yes, Fiennes does manage to emote the fear and the anger through the CGI, but it’s like he’s too alien to be scary, at least to me. The amount of memes with Voldemort suggest I’m not the only one this way inclined.

I think there’s probably a problem going on with the uncanny valley. (Images from the Mori essay linked).

[When things are still]

[Creepy things are creepier when moving]

Now, I assume Voldemort is meant to be zombie-creepy, or at least that how Harry describes him in the books.

"The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry...and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's but with slits for nostrils...."

Now, we can’t get Harry’s experience of being haunted by Voldemort in his dreams, because what I think makes Voldemort’s countenance so truly frightening to the other characters isn’t his snake-like nose or his red eyes, but the potential. Voldemort is, in essence, the Grim Reaper. You are at his mercy, and you’re probably going to be dead. 

“This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.“

And yes, Voldemort can be quite funny and witty, but..

“I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many of my followers will give their right hands to perform.” (To Peter Pettigrew)

...it’s still incredibly dark, sadistic humour. Whereas the teenage Tom Riddle we’ve been discussing has just barely dipped his toes into evil, Voldemort is, well... swimming in it. At this point, he think he undeniably enjoys causing pain.

And much of what makes Voldemort scary is subtle. 

For example, what I personally consider haunting is the fact that he’s got a cave full of Inferi. A cave full of reanimated dead bodies. 

Either he dug them up, which is unlikely... or perhaps, a twenty-seven-or-so-year-old Tom Riddle would lie in wait like a bird of prey, very quietly and patiently, perhaps reading a book, waiting for an unsuspecting Muggle to wander past. Maybe killing is a game to him at this point, when it’s not so personal as killing Harry Potter. Maybe it’s a whispered Avada Kedavra, and then he carries the dead body away to his cave. Maybe he Imperiuses them to walk off the cliff. Maybe he tortures them first.

Shudder.

And I don’t think you can show that kind of horror through any CGI or make-up, so...

You know what is terrifying? Revolting? True crime; real-life people who do unspeakably horrible things. And I think a lot was missed out on, in stripping Tom Riddle physically of his humanity. Yes, Riddle is a monster...

But, as we’ve seen, he’s a human monster, not some eldritch horror from the seventh level of hell or something.

I just think it would be interesting to have this perfectly normal-looking human do all the horrific things Voldemort does. I want to see that sick joy in a human face and feel disgusted. I want to see fear make his bottom lip tremble, and feel a misplaced sense of empathy. (Think President Snow from the Hunger Games -- now, that’s a sick, twisted villain who we can relate to as a human being, but still love to hate -- or what about The Joker?).

And out of everything they chose to CGI, why on earth did they not make his eyes scarlet? That might have made him look at least somewhat menacing, rather than a failed lab experiment.

(Don’t even get me started on his and Bellatrix’s death scenes in the movies-)

Here’s President Snow. He’s got a cute little granddaughter, he sends kiddies to kill each other Battle Royale-style every year, and he poisons all his political opponents. He’s also a master manipulator and has a penchant for white roses. They cover up the smell of the sores in his mouth from eating the poison too, to conceal his treachery.

Heath Ledger as the Joker in Dark Knight (2008), who is, according to NYT (which I totally agree with), the best Joker. Now this is a villain done right, with many Voldemort-like traits. On a scale of one-to-ten, he’s absolutely terrifying. Why? He’s (unlike Voldemort in the movies) incredibly intelligent, shows young-Tom-Riddle-like skills for charm and manipulation, plays with humans like they’re his own personal psychology experiment (and to hell with the Institutional Review Board), and has one, single, very clear goal -- chaos. Like Voldemort, he wears an inhuman mask that’s not horrifying in its own right; but unlike Voldemort, the human is all there -- terrifying, real, and with a bottomless, obsessive desire to destroy. His disordered thinking is all out there for the audience to see. The Joker’s motivation is to enjoy himself; whereas Voldemort seems to lack drive. Why does he want to take over the world -- who knows, with Voldemort? The Joker wants to see it burn.

Let’s try to do the same with Lord Voldemort:

[SLIGHT FLASH WARNING]

I had to go with this because Voldemort isn’t legitimately terrifying in many scenes. And yes, this unrefined anger somewhat speaks to Tom’s immaturity

By this point, seventy-one year old Tom Riddle is a hollowed-out shell of a human being. After decades of building his power, he was defeated by a one-year-old, and ended up slumming it as a spirit for a decade, got defeated again, was a shrivelled-up baby for a year, then finally got his body back.

He’s angry, okay! And Fiennes does a great job of portraying the sheer, destructive, unbridled rage of this character.

The body language. again, since his face is inhuman, this is super important. and Fiennes’ body language is great. Voldemort/Riddle commits to his actions. He is very emotionally-driven.

But yet, he doesn’t feel capable, in the way that the Joker or President Snow do. Yeah, we know anecdotally that he’s incredibly evil, sadistic, and second only to Dumbledore in terms of power, but he loses to a baby, and then that same baby as a teenager. So, we really could have done with seeing Voldemort’s power, cruelty, and evil firsthand a lot more often.

Voldemort is not well-characterized. I don’t understand his motives, and the ones that I do understand are not compelling.

Not to die? Well, he’s already made several Horcruxes. Why not sit back and relax? Why start a war and risk himself?

JKR said that Voldemort’s great desire was to become all-powerful and eternal. But that’s... boring! It does little to tell us about Voldemort, other than that he’s a villain and a wannabe dictator. 

Furthermore, the charm, manipulation, and cunning that are hallmarks of younger Tom Riddle’s personality are gone.

Is Voldemort (to return to Jungian terms) all shadow? An empty creature of simple creation and destruction, perhaps? We’ll discuss this further down...

And this isn’t a problem of having a fantastical world with magic and the like. Grindelwald’s quiet, self-possessed, almost coy “So you think you can hold me?” was infinitely scarier than anything that has ever come out of Voldemort’s mouth. It was chilling. 

OOTP is my favorite book, and the Ministry sequence is one of my favourite in the films. 

This scene where he psyches out Harry, talking so quietly that he could just be a little voice inside his head (and again, during the possession scene)? Absolute perfection. 

Why? Because this showcases what’s truly scary about him. Voldemort can get into your head. He can make you do things. And perhaps, if we had seen that more often, we’d understand how scary he is.

I wish this had been his grand entrance, and not whatever that scene in GOF was. Somehow, him screeching “I WANT TO SEE THE LIGHT LEAVE YOUR EYES!” is not menacing. At all. 

But, I can’t help but think how much greater the emotional affect would be if he had more human features (think the burned-and-blurred, waxy features from Dumbledore’s memory). 

Just imagine these scenes if Voldemort looked human, and spoke as quietly as he did in this one.

Because of the reason that I have little to go on in terms of characterization that I haven’t already covered, we’ll discuss the myth and legend of Lord Voldemort.

I can’t decide if the statue in the films is supposed to be the Angel of Death or the Grim Reaper. He has a skeleton and carries a scythe, but he also has wings. There are so many different interpretations, attitudes towards, and personifications of Death across the world that I don’t want to draw any one conclusion. But I must wonder if Lord Voldemort, with his yew-and-phoenix wand (which carries heavy symbolism of immortality and rebirth) and almost deified figure is meant to be a personification of Death himself? His name, Lord Voldemort, is a shade close to Lord Death.

For years, it has stumped me that wizards and witches are afraid to utter Voldemort’s name, especially since we only see the Taboo in the middle of the last book. It didn’t make sense just based on fear; in the real world, we don’t circumvent Hitler’s name, for example.

Perhaps this may have been obvious to others, but it wasn’t to me.

Here’s a counterargument to myself; why Voldemort shouldn’t look human.

Voldemort, in the Wizarding World, is seen as a literal deity.

I promised to attempt to answer this question in Part 3: 

And so, I can’t help but wonder if the opposite is true… if Tom Riddle creates Horcruxes, would that grant him additional magic powers?

In Part 3, I likened Tom Riddle to a sorcerer in Russian folklore, Koschei the Deathless, also famous for sequestering his soul in objects. This source suggests that Koschei was considered not an ordinary magician, but a representative of the ‘other’ world, the world of death.

So, what if... creating Horcruxes makes you... more than human? Now, I could definitely see god-like status being appealing to sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle. Perhaps, even appealing enough to kill for. Now, his proclivity for Avada Kedavra makes sense. We know it’s an incredibly sinister spell, but at the same time, it’s a very humane way to kill. Why might it be so horrifying?

Here’s a weird theory.

To the best of my knowledge, no one but Voldemort is seen using the Killing Curse more than once or twice. 

Perhaps, ordinary mortals can only cast Avada Kedavra a few times, but Tom, having split his soul and having become in some way a non-human instrument of Death, can cast it however many times as he likes, and that is part of what serves to make him so terrifying.

This makes the idea of Voldemort tossing around Avada Kedavras actually incredibly terrifying, if you take into account what that might mean.

The collective cultural fear of speaking Voldemort’s name supports this theory.

Take the chthonic (underworld) deities of Greek mythology; most notably, Hades and Persephone, the king and queen of the underworld.

Hades, the god of the dead, was feared. 

So feared that the word ‘Hades’ (”the unseen one”) was so frightening, that people came up with all sorts of euphemisms to circumvent actually saying it and he was rarely even depicted in art. For example, they would refer to him as Pluto (”the rich one”), Clymenus ("notorious"), Polydegmon ("who receives many"), and perhaps Eubuleus ("good counsel" or "well-intentioned"), amongst many other names. 

However, he was not seen as evil; just stern, cruel, and fair. Like most Greek gods, he had an associated cult (the Death Eaters, anyone?)

Another interesting connection between Hades and Voldemort is that Hades was associated with snakes.

Persephone (suggested to have a pre-Greek origin and probably pre-dates Hades), who was also a vegetation/fertility/spring goddess, similarly, was referred to as Despoina (”the mistress”), Kore (”the maiden”), etc, because as the terrible Queen of the Dead, it was considered unsafe to speak her name aloud. In mythology and literature, she is sometimes referred to as ‘dread Persephone.’

--Just like how Lord Voldemort is referred to as The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who... (and if you’re Dumbledore, ‘Tom’.)

Her central myth served as the context for the secret rites of regeneration at Eleusis (which was basically a mystery cult devoted to her and her mother, Demeter), which promised immortality to initiates.

We don’t know for certain what exactly went on, because, mystery cult -- the members were sworn to secrecy -- but it revolved around immortality and rebirth and possibly psychoactive drugs. 

Perhaps ironically, in comparison to the Death Eaters, anyone could join, as long as they could speak Greek and had never committed murder.

And that concludes my assessment!

[introloves]

Moments of Love.

A collection of hybrid Yoongi drabbles.

Drabble no. 3

1 2 

Pairing: Hybrid! Yoongi x Reader (Ft. Best Friend Hybrid! JK.)

Word Count: 2k

Genre: fluff, just straight fluff

Warnings: a little bit of miscommunication, mentions of prejudices against hybrids, mention of self hatred

Summary: You hadn’t gone on a date in years, due to your insecurities and workload and now you felt comfortable with staying lonely, your best and childhood friend Jeongguk however, tries his hand at being a matchmaker. 

The newborn breeze of coming fall nipped at your nose, in attempt to shield yourself from the chilling air you brought your sweater closer to you. Your shoes crunching along the pavement, your anxiety rising to a ten as you checked the time once more. You were supposed to be at the café twenty minutes ago (twenty five was standard to be polite) for your date but thanks to your coworker having to go home early, you had to stay and close up shop by yourself.

You could feel your face burn hot at the thought, this was your first date in… a long time. School and work were the only constant in your life and had been for a while, romance and any attempt to woo anyone was pretty much the last thing on your mind. Well, that and your insecurities... but it was easier to blame it on your work load.

Your friend Jeongguk however, decided that he was going to play matchmaker after a miserable night you had. You had cried into his chest while you told him that you found yourself utterly unloveable and that the person you saw in the mirror was nothing but an ugly amalgamation of everything you hated. The day after, he proudly proclaimed that you had a date with one of his older friends. He thought you two would make perfect company, you apparently had already met him multiple times, but it was hard to recall, anytime you hung out with him and his friends it was hard to keep track of the six other individuals that were always in his orbit. He proudly boasted about how it was a genius idea, his excitement was always infectious and since you knew you were in good hands with him you agreed to, it was time for a change in your life.

Jeongguk knew in his heart that this was probably his most brilliant idea. Both your personalities would mix well, and maybe just maybe, the offhanded comment about your nice smile that Yoongi had once made after seeing a picture of the two of you together had been a big factor in this set up. Jeongguk then told you about his friend, a producer from what you could recall, and this immediately piqued your interest. You were studying music and it was basically your lifeline, finding someone with your shared interest would be fun. Even if nothing romantic spawned from this outing, it was always good to make friends, and you desperately needed some. Jeongguk didn’t count, he was practically family anyways. So you decided to trust him and he planned everything for this ‘blind’ date with vigor.

You neared the coffee shop, it was small and cozy. Bulbs of lights shinning softly against the sunset, the small breeze now picking up strength. The scent of caffeine did nothing but heighten the nausea you were experiencing thanks to your nervousness...

You could back out, you thought to yourself. You could make up some excuse, you were already this late. But you decided to take the leap of faith and follow through with this. Giving yourself a mini pep talk, you whipped your shaky and sweaty hands against your jeans and tugged the door open.

The shop was close to empty, there was only a couple sitting to the corner of the store, settled comfortably against each other and one more person sitting with their back faced to you. A fuzzy, bright blue beanie adorning their head. He was dressed in jeans and a black and white stripped top. Seeing no one else who could be this elusive friend you walked towards him. You tentatively made your way to them, hoping this was actually Jeongguk’s friend.

“Y-Yoongi, uh Min Yoongi?” You questioned, hands fiddling with the hem of your sweater as you stood there.

The man with the beanie turned to look at you and your heart all but stopped beating. He was beautiful, the soft light of the café complimented his shiny skin, his eyes even softer with the atmosphere the glowing lights casting a warm hue to his eyes, a pretty shade of pink tinged his lips that were currently pursed, you gulped as you looked upon his beauty.

As he looked at you, he wasn’t faring any better. The cold tinged your cheeks and nose, he sighed in relief at the sight of you, dread and embarrassment was chewing at him at the thought of you standing him up. From the few times he had seen you around Jeongguk, he remembered your sweet smile and soft eyes. He had told him about your eyes and how cutely they twinkled when you laughed which made Yoongi all that excited to meet you formerly.

When Jeon offered to set a date with you, the cartwheels his heart was doing was a testament to how much he was looking forward to this. He had arrived ten minutes early, making sure to grab a good spot for the both of you, but as time went on and five minutes turned into almost half an hour, Yoongi had all but given up. He was kicking himself in the ass for not grabbing your phone number from his classmate. But now that you were in-front of him and his beating heart was pounding against his rib cage he really thought you looked much more beautiful up close and not stuck to Jeongguk’s side, you and him were almost always glued to each other, his bigger frame always dwarfing yours. For a bunny hybrid Jeon was surprisingly built like a tank, Yoongi had always teased him, asking him if he was sure he was a regular lop eared bunny and not from the giant lop lineage. He thought he would ease up on the teasing after seeing you nervously wring your hands and he thought it was the cutest thing ever.

“Hm, you must be Y/N.” He smiled, the corner of his lips curled ever so slightly. He looked tired, a drowsiness that was almost tangible clung to him, you wanted to die at the fact that he had waited for you here for so long. He stood up, his height shocking you, with a face as doll-like as his, the way he towered over you brought a hot chill to creep all over your face and neck this time.

You bowed immediately as he reached his full height, your eyes looking down at your shoes. He was nothing short of the most pretty man you had ever seen, but his eyes held an intense and predatory gaze. You had only encountered this aura from hybrids, especially from the feline lineage.

“I’m so sorry. I had to close up by myself, a coworker got sick and she had to leave early. I really tried getting here on time but I got lost along the way and-“ his chuckle disrupted your rant.

“Hey it’s fine, I’m glad you showed up.” His voice was like pure honey and you noticed he had a small purr to it.

He tilted his head down as a greeting, the large beanie that was placed on top of his head twitched, your eyebrows furrowed as you caught sight of the movement, the action was quick before you met his eyes again. His sharp eyes caught the look of confusion however and he guarded himself. Of course Jeongguk would forget to include a rather crucial thing about him to you.

While Hybrids weren’t all that different from those who weren’t the prejudice around them was still there. Just like anything different, some accepted them for who they were, and some didn’t.

“Ah, the kid forgot to tell you huh.” He laughed dryly. He didn’t want to be an asshole, but with past experiences, just because someone looked kind and soft on the outside, didn’t mean it stopped them from being horrible people. You looked up at him, confusion still present.

“Tell me what?” You asked, he simply grabbed the beanie he was wearing and tugged it off. His fluffy hair beautiful and black and tumbled down to his forehead. Sitting atop his head were two equally inky ears, very similar to those of a domestic cat. You then also realized that the top he was wearing was oversized, presumably to hide a tail that accompanied his beautiful ears.

“Oh.” You said. You being the painfully awkward person you were didn’t know how to progress beyond this or how to pick up on the fact that Yoongi looked extremely uncomfortable so you just looked up at him, quite dumbstruck. Now noticing the very obvious feline features he had.

“Yeah, oh.” He stated, just waiting for you to walk out of the café, but as you stared on at him with a small smile and big round eyes he figured that he had misread the situation.

A beat of silence passed until he finally sighed out,

“I’m getting the feeling that you’re okay with me being a hybrid.”

“Well yeah of course I am, am I not supposed to be?” You asked, now grabbing a chair to sit directly across from where he was sat, you were also tired from your shift after all.

Yoongi felt quite dumb at that moment, something he didn’t feel quite often. He always prided himself on being a self proclaimed genius and of course he could back up said claims but the fact that he couldn’t quite read you stunned him.

“No it’s not that it’s just that… well never mind.” He sat down as well, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. You both settled down and you once again began nervously playing with the hem of your sweater, using it to keep yourself preoccupied and so you wouldn’t openly drool at the beautiful hybrid sitting directly across from you. You laughed a bit at his reaction to you having none to his “reveal”.

“Yoongi, Jeongguk’s a hybrid isn’t he?” You questioned, of course this situation could take a turn, you knew he was being guarded due to the abuse hybrids often experienced but that’s not who you were.

“Yeah he is.” Your fingers bravely took a hold of the little pamphlet with the drinks they offered and began looking for the tea section. He simply looked on at you.

“We grew up together, his parents adopted me when I was little. His parents… two hybrids raised me. I know that doesn’t mean I can’t be a disgusting person... but that’s not who I am.” You simply stated, wanting him to know you didn’t pose any malice.

He seemed to visibly relax at your words, the iciness between the two of you slowly melting. He didn’t know how else to react but decided that two words were sufficient in how he felt,

“Thank you.” He whispered and you just smiled.

“It’s starting to get colder isn’t it.” Yoongi spoke, his hand coming up to scratch at his ears, after being tucked into his beanie all day it felt nice to have them out in the open.

“Yeah it is, the colder weather’s my favorite. I cant wait for shorter days-” You said, taking a look from the menu to the cup of coffee he had been drinking before you got there. It was already down halfway and you still felt super guilty for making him wait that long.

“I can buy you another one.” You offered, motioning down at his drink, “for making you wait.” You added sheepishly. Yoongi was a sucker for coffee and he certainly wasn’t going to decline an offer from someone as pretty as you.

The rest of the date was spent talking about each others interests and career choices, you had learned that he was producing his own music and that he had already built quite a following and connections with artists, you sat there completely in awe as he spoke about his music. He was trying to make it big in the industry and he was dead set on being the biggest producer in Korea. You hadn’t listened to any of his tracks, but the way he talked about music you knew he was in love with the art, you knew he would make it big.

The both of you were surprised with how easily you talked to one another, the conversation was never stagnant nor awkward.

Towards the end, you began yawning more and more and while you both didn’t want to end the date you knew that you had to go back into the normal world once again. But it was easy once you two realized that this wasn’t going to be the last date. And after a swapping of phone numbers, a hug that had you dizzy and two Uber’s later, you and Yoongi were both recollecting the date with hot cheeks and a smile on your faces.

That night as you fell asleep, you couldn’t help but feeling more loved than you had in a long, long time. His smile playing over and over again in your mind. He had looked at you like he thought you were the most beautiful person in the world, his eyes never left yours... even as you spoke with a small stutter and sweaty palms. He looked intrigued by you, and you felt safe with him, whatever imperfections you thought you had didnt matter, they weren’t at the forefront of your mind, he was.

You sent him a goodnight text, signaling that you would be more than open to having another date with him, you were the most brave in that moment than you had been in a while, the thought of seeing him again helped you as your thumb hovered over the ‘send’ button for a second. And before you completely knocked out, you sent a thank you text to Jeongguk.

Yoongi still couldn’t calm his racing heart, the way you looked at him while he was shyly talking about his music engraved into his eyelids. His already trembling heart once again jumped as his phone screen lit up, seeing you send him a goodnight message and knowing you were willing to go on another date with him put a smile so big it hurt on his face. He typed out, ‘I’ll be counting down the minutes till I see you again doll x” and called it a night. He knew you had stolen his whole heart and he was willing to give it to you on a silver platter.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “To learn.”

My brain wanted to write something in first person present tense today. I have no idea why, but I let it go wild. I hope you all like it :) A little bit different than my usual style :)

I just needed some time.

You ever tried putting yourself back together after war, it isn’t easy, or at least I don’t find it to be. I don’t know, call me a sissy, but I don’t actually like war., I don’t take pleasure from killing, but it is part of my job, a big part of it and if the universe continues the way it is, I am going to see war a lot more often.

I wish it didn’t affect me so much.

I wish I had a better way of handling it.

People think I’m a strong person, but they’re wrong. There are plenty of people who could take up my mantle and do a more badass job. They wouldn’t grow sick as the sight of carnage, and they wouldn’t hesitate to put the armor back on.

I’m not like that ….

I’m a coward.

If my friends knew…. Well I have no idea what they would think of me.

But that’s why I had to take some time. Since my first injury, I have never been totally alone. There was always someone there to check on me, there was always someone there to help me deal with my issues. I don’t think I ever figured out how to take care of myself, which is why I decided to take this trip, alone.

The others didn’t understand it…. well , one of them did but he still didn’t like it, but If I am being honest it will be good for them….. Especially her…. The last thing I want to do is make it so we can’t function alone.

I think its called…. Codependency or something.

I don’t know sounds like the sort of thing I’d get caught up in.

I suppose it's for all those reasons that I ended up here. 

Looking out the window, I can see Anum suspended against the sky glassy in shades of blue purple and green like a lucky marble. It almost feels as if I can reach out and touch it.

The last time I saw this place, it was receding into the distance,.

I lost a lot here, my leg, and my mind for a short time.

Now it kind of makes me laugh to think that a piece of me was left behind to fertilize some of the plant matter. Of course, it looks a bit different now that the dark season has abated. I had only ever seen the place when it was covered in ash, but it's actually quite beautiful. 

The pilot of the shuttle is pretty average, and I only feel like tightening my hands on the seatbelts just a little as we enter the atmosphere.

Fire rolls up around us as friction begins to heat up the outer hull.

Around me men and aliens alike rock in their seats.

Most of them are miners, come here to work on extracting the precious metals from below Anum’s surface.

Personally, I prefer asteroid mining, but statistics say that is more dangerous and expensive so of course corporations like it a lot less, and besides, all of this was sort of just a massive pissing contest with the GA forcing the Drev to pay for the damages caused during war. I don’t think they should, but who am I to give my opinion.

I’m just a soldier.

It doesn't take us long to leave the atmosphere, and it isn’t long before we are looking down at a massive open mining operation. The face of Anum has been scoured with a massive terraced hole overrun by machines and workers cutting into the stone. Volcanoes pipe smoke in the distance.

The scars of industry really are ugly sometimes.

I’ve seen pictures of anum during the bright season, without the machinery.

It's honestly very beautiful, but maybe I'm a bit biased. It’s the one part of home that Sunny misses, and I’ve always wanted to see it for myself. With all the times we’ve gone to earth, you think we'd have visited her home planet too, but I guess the cosmos have ust never taken us this way.

Red lights blink above the doors, and I unbuckle my harness pulling on my bag and gear with the rest of the miners, though I’m not here for the same reason they are. Boots clatter loudly on the ramp below our feet, and I head outside.

It smells clean and cool, though for a distant tang of sulfur.

You barely notice it though, less bad than visiting the hot springs at yellowstone, so your nose adjusts quickly.

The sky overhead is blue, just like on earth, though the ground beyond the launch pad is an amalgamation of rainbow color. I have to blink a few times to adjust my vision, pulling up the eyepatch to take a look from my mechanical eye and its UV filter.

“Holy shit.”

It's beautiful, the sheer amount of color is astonishing like the Lucky Charms leprechaun had some sort of horrific accident. T

he miners ignore me and continue on their way towards the docking pad. 

I don’t plan on following.

I am not here for them. I drop the patch back over my eye, and adjust the bag over my shoulder striking it out into the bush, barely looking back. No one notices, or cares, and it isn’t long before the launch field and the mining operation disappears over the horizon. Anum’s circumference is just a little smaller than that of earth with the horizon eating up anything beyond that around three miles.

Gravity is somewhat lessened too, which makes it easier as I walk.

My boots are silent against the multicolored moss at my feet, this stuff teal in color. Little white flowers spring up from the surface like clover back home. A light gust of wind rolls past me causing the flowers to ripple. I lift my head closing my eyes and allowing the wind to carry with it distant smells.

This is the same wind that Sunny would have known growing up, the same feeling under her feet.

I decide to stop a couple miles out under the meager shade of a coiltree. I have never actually seen one before now, and I can see why it’s called a coiltree. Honestly it looks like something straight out of a Dr. Seus book striped up the trunk and with branches that curl into spirals. More little whit blossoms erupt from the trunk, and between those are little white berries. 

I seem to recall those being edible.

Reaching up, I pluck one or two down from the branches and pop them into my mouth. Though the skin is white, the berries juice stains my hands purple. One of them is horrifically sour, but the other is pleasantly sweet, probably more ripe than the other, though I can’t yet tell the difference between them. 

I sit there under the tree for a little while looking out across the lonely landscape. Something is moving on the distant horizon, though I can't exactly tell what they are, a herd of some sort of animal or another. They are very tall as far as I can tell, just a little shorter than the coiltree.

As a last moment decision, I kick off my boots, and strip my socks tying them to my bag before standing.

The moss is very soft under my feet erupting upwards between my toes like a shag carpet, but you know much less hideous.

My footsteps are even softer now, though the prosthetic clatters sometimes when metal hits stone.

Sweat runs down my back,sides, and front.

I have no idea where I am going, but I know they will see me soon enough.

They have patroll parties out here, and if they aren’t watching me already, then they will be soon enough.

I keep walking heading parallel to the volcanic chain.

For the most part, my hike is uneventful, except for that time that I stepped on something slimy and wriggly. I hate to admit it but I squealed like an idiot and nearly fell over, only made worse when I looked down and saw the giant pale maggot burrowing into the moss and underground.

I nearly gagged, and my skin crawled.

Sunny had mentioned those, though I forgot their names.

THey lived primarily off of decomposing plant and animal material, very common in areas where war had continued.

I didn’t like it, but it was probably one of those nasty suckers that ate my leg.

Ew…

Gross.

I contemplated putting my boots back on, but kept walking instead. 

A group of unknown flying critters appear overhead. They have two sets of membranous wings, kind of like those of a bat, no tail though, just a long rail of fur like the streamer of a kite.

These ones are bright colors like pink and yellow.

Pretty cool.

Its nice to walk in the silence, though after a while my brain devolves into humming the star wars theme, and then singing stupid songs dancing around and hopping about from one foot to another as I badly sing the choruses to all the songs I know.

My eye of the tiger rendition probably left something to be desired, though I doubt anyone out here would know the difference.

Then comes the stupid dialogs with myself as I try to imagine what Krill Conn and Sunny would say about all this.

“Commander, I will have you know that you behavior is highly disquieting, I insist we get an MRI on your brain to make sure you have not developed a severe case of bilateral goop disease.”

“What kind of dumbass just goes wandering around with no idea where he’s going. The dumbass kind of dumbass.”

“Adam, I need you to understand that Anum is a dangerous place. I know you grew up on earth, but there are still things that can go wrong on Anum. Do you know how common surprise hot springs are. What if you fell in and died.”

Speaking of which, “Thanks imaginary Sunny, I totally forgot about that.”

Other than that, what can go wrong, it is a bright shiny day, the temperature is perfect, nothing someone like me can’t handle. Oh and is that a crunchy pink orb I see. I fucking love those, they taste so good.

I hop over the rocks, my feet warm on the moss, and reach down to pluck one of the spheres from it’s short stumpy stem.

And that's when the spear appears at my throat.

Shit.

I drop my hand back and look up to see a drev that is at least three feet taller than me, holding his massive spear orange eyes narrowed. Holy shit, I didn’t even hear her/him coming. Honestly I should have seen them coming long before anything else bright fuschia as they were.

“Lod tsa ee nin tsa daeen darish.”  They jab the spear at my neck, and the obsidian lined head cuts through my sin like butter. 

Oh shit, uh, my translator is not picking up shit. Guess these guys have a different accent than we’re used to. I rack my brains trying to remember how to speak what little I know, but it seems that it has all fled me when I needed it the most.

“Lod tsa ee nin tsa daeen darish!” I stumble backwards onto my butt and hands. Shit shit.

I hold up a hand.

“Cheeyat neahasan!” Shit I forgot to conjugate the verb. Damn I must look like an idiot yelling ‘to speak slow!’ at the top of my lungs 

However, my botched attempt at speaking seems to work, and they pull back. “Tsa dzhal Cheeyish.” 

Oh I understood that one, “Yid zhe cheeyi dzhal.” yes, yes I speak Drev, “neahasan.” Slolwy anyway. 

They pull back. I don't know why, but I’m getting a female vibe off this one. I can't tell though, Drev voices all tend to be rather deep.

“Lod tsa ee nin tsa daeen darish” She says it slower this time, and all around her I watch as a small group of other Drev move to flank me from the sides. They are listening very intently.

I think I understand this time, the rough translation being who are you and what are you doing.

I want to speak with your leader, “Zhe zhegingi s tsak eeda cheeyat.” My voice is halting and I am butchering the pronunciation, but they seem to get my request.

She trusts the spear at me, “Tsaee!”

I hold up my hands, “Woah woah, easy easy…. I uh.” Shit what was the word to learn, “zhe….zhengingi hak tsa…. “ Damn it… I can’t remember,  “um….. Rekazat nin dzhal….. Rekazazh.”

Oh wow, that sounds really intelligent. I wanted to learn from them but instead apparently I ‘want to know what they know.’ riveting conversationalist that I am.

She stares at me confused.

In frustration I point at her spear, “Zhe zhengingi…..zheengat?” 

Uh this was going poorly. I clearly did not know as much of their language as I thought I did.

I want to know to fight.

Wow excellent work their commander that will convince them.

They look back and forth at each other, and fire off some quick shot dialogue that leaves my head spinning.

She turns to me and lowers her spear, “s jya Hajish.”

Come with us.

Great a sentence I understood.

It was in the next few hours that I was either going to live, or I was going to die horribly. 

A pretty exciting time in my life.

And I followed.

Not like I had a choice at this point. 

[uglyducklingpresse]

Backlist Bulletin #4: Staying Alive

“A boat with no one on it brought

A startling, sharp joy: behold

The searchlights’

Lustrous

Fugitive

Humanity” (p. 15)

The task of staying alive is an obvious one we regularly mediate and reconcile with. The haptics aren’t always obvious, but yes, we do it. Of course, the possibilities of how to do it are endlessly stratified, especially when the dislocation of life hinges on inequity with its causal powers of control/domination. The severity of catastrophic endings rely on such stratifications. Still, the scale of crisis varies, sometimes there is no scale — it’s all around us, it’s been happening — and an apocalypse, and it’s resulting dystopia, won’t be something that strikes everyone in a singular moment. Survival isn’t renouncing death, nor is it an eager anticipation for a terrestrial end, a deliverance to alternative realities; thankfully, finality is not what Laura Sims came for in her post-apocalypse collection. A book like Staying Alive does fit seamlessly among others in end-of the-world discourse (from visions of doomsday visitations to theorizing life/dying in the Anthropocene) but, in her three-part collection, Sims distances us from the litany of obsolete apocalyptic speculations and brings us to a different, surging twilight that we witness while we sustain and are suspended to drown in our humanity.

“The place rocked

With that beating thud and it

Rained down darkness as we made out

Miserable

Skedaddle” (p. 22)

Darkness is anticipated — indeed, expected — in ‘the apocalypse.’ In Sims’ landscape it’s not always dark, and when it is it’s “[colorless]” (29), stripped and wrung out. “There was only: a pale pink glow / Above pink was yellow / Above yellow was blue / Above blue was no / Color at all” (55). Sometimes there is a brighter light, one that “came from underneath — inside the earth — ” (12); it was always there, but was it waiting? What pressured the pin to release it? It’s not the kind that ignites hope, but one that has some satisfying retributive intentions in the name of our dearly departed and fallen: “We’ll flatten from hunger and light the whole earth / With our comrades’ debris” (45). The guidance the light provides is undulating, its presence is liminal, and there is no arrival, just like surviving: “The eye must follow / The polestar, bright / Out of twilight. It seems to rise, to move” (53). It’s like the hue of a light of a future that passed, one we waved at while it zoomed over our heads and sprayed us with a dysphoria that we synthesized ourselves: “When the culture passed over / We bathed in its light in its fear in its / Mountain stream. We left mountains / Of carts full of junk behind” (36).

We really don’t seem to be in the immediate wake of any singular catastrophe; in the afterword, Sims mentions “the wake of whatever may come” — no, we’re definitely in a maelstrom (albeit one with enough benevolence to allow us to reflect) that keeps throwing up “machines,” the obsolete machinations of previous survivals. The sense of longing for the past or future is muted at times, and what we keep running into is a “torn” apparatus, demanding an apology or sitting on the vacant lawn of reality, begging:

“What stood in our yard were like demons

outside of time. One had a rock in its mouth,

another a tree branch” (p. 42)

What infrastructure remains after “smoke pours through the universe,” after evacuations, after “the world is soaked” and “the last beast dies?” Sims give us a reminder that our joy in excess represented the maintenance of a bleak termination: “Down a wide staircase of marble is / Nothing but waste.” (49) “And the last / Chandeliers / Suspend” (52). The metropoles we flock to are ruinous salvation: “The city teems. Above / It isn’t heaven; it’s / The ruin / Where / You shine” (28). The abandonment that we (the reader, the narrator, or whoever is left in Sims’ landscape) sense isn’t met with a weird cognitive dissonance about power-driven crisis, instead it forces a surrender from tacit self-preservation: “As long as / Your body / As brief as your body, it / Sputters / And gasps until / Oil runs over the bones” (59). For the moments when the narrator can squint enough to imagine a bustling city or can conjure someone by calling their name, a confused mourning overlaps with that muted sense of longing — while whomever is “staying alive” (us, or the narrator). There is that “startling, sharp joy” again, but still the “lustrous, fugitive, humanity” makes “the air full of sound” (38), there are “wailings” and “ululations” that overwhelm the atmosphere.

Staying Alive is sometimes survivalist — Sims notes in interviews and the afterword that she draws upon apocalyptic locations/events (Chernobyl, Katrina, earthquakes, The Winter Garden Atrium) and writings (H.G. Wells, Rebecca Solnit, even Little House on the Prairie) that inspired the collection. Staying Alive also reads as nostalgic for a purer past, and hopeful for an optimistic future. Life isn’t shaped by just surviving devastation. The terrain of Staying Alive is a vestibule for reorienting to a new type of living and for resolving what’s to come.

—Neelufar Franklin

Staying Alive is available directly through Ugly Duckling Presse (here), through our Partner Bookstores (here), and through Small Press Distribution (here). Purchases made directly through Ugly Duckling Presse on October 31 are 50% off, use discount code DYSTOPIA at checkout.

The backlist bulletin is a weekly column on titles from UDP’s back catalogue, curated and written by Apprentices.

[aqlemonade]

It’s Not Christmas Without You - Biadore

AN: I’m a few days off for a Christmas fic, but we’re rolling with it! A quick story based on Danny buying Roy his Christmas decorations.

Summary: Roy doesn’t want Danny to work through the Christmas holiday.

“I wanna do this for you, Roy. You’re my priority.”

Danny bounced around Roy’s living room not doing anything in particular; He just couldn’t stay still. “When are you putting the tree up?” He bugged Roy as he floated around the room. Christmas was closer than it seemed, and in Roy’s undecorated apartment it felt even farther away.

“Why would you think I’m putting up a tree?” Roy asked from the couch, his eyes not looking up from the book they were glued to.

Danny stopped in his tracks. “It’s Christmas! You had that gorgeous tree last year.”

Roy shrugged. “Last year you were here,” his tone faltered. “Besides, we have a tree at your place. We don’t need one in mine.”

Danny was not going to accept that. While he wasn’t a huge fan of the material part of the holidays, he loved the spirit of them. He loved spending time with his friends and family. To take the time to really appreciate and show gratitude for their presence in his life. He loved how light and comfy the atmosphere felt when the Christmas lights were on and stockings were hung. It was always like pulling teeth with Roy to get him to embrace any holiday, but Danny managed to do it every time.

“C’mon, Roy,” Danny cuddled up next to him on the couch, wrapping his arms around Roy’s neck. A small pout appeared on Danny’s lips. “What harm would a tree and a few decorations do?” He batted his long eyelashes at Roy, still pouting his lips.

“I told you no,” Roy got up from the couch and away from Danny’s embrace. He was strong, but he knew he’d give in to Danny’s tactics if exposed to them for long enough. He put his book down on the kitchen counter along with his reading glasses. Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. “It just doesn’t feel like Christmas,” he admitted. “And when the only person I care about spending the holiday with isn’t going to be here, I don’t see much of a point in decorating the place.”

Danny’s expression fell. “Roy, I...I didn’t know you felt that way. You said it was okay if I worked through Christmas. I asked you.” Danny was dumbfounded. On one hand he felt awful that his absence was ruining the holiday for Roy. On the other hand he was infuriated that Roy told him it was fine when he knew it wasn’t.

“I changed my mind! People do that sometimes,” Roy snapped at Danny, throwing his hands in the air. This was his own fault for being stubborn, Roy knew that. He couldn’t swallow down his pride for five seconds to tell Danny that he wanted him home for the holiday.

“I can’t cancel any more gigs, Roy! Nobody’s gonna wanna work with me if I keep doing that shit! If you told me sooner I could’ve had an entire week freed up for us!”

“I’m not asking you to cancel anything!” Roy raised his voice. He hated yelling at Danny, and he hated the look of fear and confusion on Danny’s face when he did. Roy took a breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

Danny nodded his head, “It’s okay.”

Roy’s shoulders slumped as he padded back to the couch to sit next to Danny. “I don’t want you to cancel any shows because of me. I should have told you how I felt in the first place,” Roy sighed. He looked so sad it broke Danny’s heart. Danny laced their fingers together, using his other hand to cup their intertwined one. “When you’re gone all those decorations are gonna do is remind me that you’re not here.”

Danny blinked back tears. He didn’t want to leave Roy alone on Christmas, especially not when he was the only person Roy was looking forward to being with. “I know it’s not the same, but I’ll FaceTime you for as much of the day as I can. We can eat and watch movies together. I’ll just be on your phone screen instead of at the table.” As much as Roy appreciated Danny trying to band-aid the situation, his solution wasn’t an appealing one. He was tired of the only way to see Danny being through FaceTime. Of course it was better than nothing. This was his fault after all. Danny was just trying his best to fix Roy’s mistake.

Roy flashed him a small smile, “I’d like that.”

“And we can celebrate as soon as I get back! I’m talking Christmas movies, my mom’s leftovers, ugly sweaters. The whole nine! I promise,” Danny squeezed his hand. Roy nodded. Danny was so sweet to him it made Roy’s chest ache. The older man re-positioned himself; Nuzzling his face into Danny’s neck while hugging his body. Half of Roy was on top of Danny while the other half was on the couch.

Danny kissed Roy’s forehead. A rush of affection towards Roy coming over him. Secretly adorable still described his best friend perfectly.

—— Danny had snuck into Roy’s apartment the next afternoon. Well, as much as a person with a key to the front door could sneak in. The first thing he did was go to Sammy and Dede’s playpen. “Hi, Babies!” He spoke to them like toddlers. Danny stepped over the small gate that kept them inside, lowering himself to the ground so he could pet and kiss the pups. The dogs loved their aunt Adore. They jumped all over him, licking his face and hands. “I bet you guys wanna get outta here,” Danny cooed to them. He reached over to unlatch the hook. Sammy bolted as soon as it swung open. Dede hung around for a few more ear scratches before trotting out.

Sammy had run into Roy’s room to curl up on his bed. Dede on the other hand quietly followed Danny around the house. He had made his way back into the living room, throwing down a plastic rite aid bag he had on his shoulder. Danny was admiring the gift he purchased Roy when the doorknob began to jiggle.

Danny panicked. He wasn’t expecting Roy to be home for another hour or two. Of course when he needed Roy out of the house the man’s shopping trip time somehow cut in half. The rite aid bag was shoved under a couch cushion. The present placed on Roy’s table. Danny stepped in front of it so Roy wouldn’t see it  immediately after walking in.

Danny stood there with a nervous grin on his face and his hands clasped together in front of him, waiting for Roy to come in.

“Shit, stupid fucking bags,” Roy cursed under his breath as he struggled to keep the door open and carry all them in it at once. He plopped them down on the floor, slamming the door shut. Roy tossed his keys on the kitchen counter, fumbling with something Danny couldn’t see.

“If I was a murderer you would be dead by now,” the youngers voice in an otherwise silent apartment made Roy jump. With a hand over his rapidly beating heart he turned around. His favorite human stood in his living room unannounced, and apparently let the dogs out as Dede was sat next to Danny’s feet.

“Have you made yourself at home?” Roy chuckled. It wasn’t anything new coming home to see Danny already there, planned visit or not. He spent most of his time at Roy’s house. They lived there together for a short while, but decided separate houses within walking distance worked best for their relationship.

“I have,” Danny moved to the side so Roy could see what he had gotten him. “Tada!” His arms spread out to show off the present: A small, clear, plastic Christmas tree. Danny grinned from to ear to ear. “And look!” A button on the front with the words Try Me above it made the tree light up different colors and play music. “I thought that you needed at least one decoration. This isn’t too much, but it’s something! If it makes you sad looking at it when I‘m gone you can press the button and it’ll get all pretty! Who can be sad with pretty lights and music playing?” Danny smiled happily at him.

Roy’s demeanor was unreadable for a moment before cracking. “I love it.” It wasn’t exactly the toy itself that he loved, but the thought that Danny had put into it. To get something that was bright and loud to not only remind him of his love, but to cheer him up as well. Roy walked towards Danny, pulling him in for a sweltering kiss.

“That’s not all,” Danny announced against Roy’s lips. With a smirk on his face Danny took Roy’s hand into his own. “Follow me.” Roy followed behind Danny until being brought to the master bathroom. There were rose pedals leading to an oversized tub. Upon getting closer Roy noticed bubbles and pink water. “Calming bath salts, a cool ass pink bath bomb that had flowers in it, and so much bubble bath,” Danny rattled off all things he added to their bath.

Roy thought it was beautiful, but, “I’m not really in the mood to fuck like aquaman, Dan.”

“It’s not a sex thing!” Danny was almost offended at the assumption. “I wanna help  you relax. You deserve it—Or you did before you called me a whore,” he chuckled.

“My whore,” Roy pecked Danny’s cheek.

The couple stripped down to nothing. Danny got into the tub first, playfully throwing bubbles at Roy as he climbed in after him. Roy sat in front of Danny with his back towards him. His body stiffened at first. He barely made any contact with Danny. “It’s me,” Danny reminded Roy, moving himself closer to massage Roy’s shoulders.

Roy’s eyes fluttered shut. The reality check that he was with Danny allowed his mind to relax. He had nothing to feel awkward about or ashamed of in Danny’s presence. Sometimes he forgot that.

Roy’s back laid against Danny’s chest. His head fell to the youngers shoulder. Danny’s heart felt warm as he ran his fingers through Roy’s hair. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, his arms wrapping around Roy’s waist as he rested his head on top of his.

They stayed like that for a while. Enjoying each other’s embrace and the comfortable silence.

“I love you,” Roy whispered.

“I love you, too.”

Eventually Danny grabbed for the shampoo. He squeezed a small amount into his palm before working it into Roy’s scalp. It was things like this that Roy loved. These extremely intimate moments where he realized how comfortable he was with Danny. Roy had never taken a bath or shower with another person when sex wasn’t the ultimate goal, nevermind letting someone wash him. A content smile spread on Roy’s lips.

Danny repeated the process with conditioner. When that was done he moved on to Roy’s body. Gentle kisses were pressed against Roy’s shoulder before Danny scrubbed the skin with a loofah. He got all of Roy’s back. Their eyes met for a sweet gaze when Danny washed his chest. “Stand up,” he asked of Roy. Danny ran the sponge up Roy’s legs. “Turn around.” He gently rubbed over Roy’s butt. The older man couldn’t help but to chuckle.

“I’m ticklish.”

“I know. It’s cute.”

“Your turn,” Roy said as he dipped back into the water. Danny laid against him this time as Roy massaged shampoo into his hair. The younger moaned at the sensation, his head lulling back in Roy’s hands. “Don’t fall asleep,” Roy warned when he noticed his loves eyes closing. His fingers combed conditioner through the long locks. Danny had actually dozed off a few times in the process. Roy rinsed Danny’s hair out, the water dripping on his forehead caused him to wake up.

Danny groaned, turning around to look at Roy. “I gotta tell you something,” he yawned.

“Tell me.”

Danny stuck his pinky out, “You can’t get mad and go all mom on me, though.”

Roy laced his brows together in confusion, but hooked his pinky with Danny’s anyway.  

Danny swallowed roughly. He swished around a pile of bubbles with a stray flower on top. “I canceled all my gigs for the week so I could spend Christmas with you.”

Roy sighed. He pushed a piece of wet hair out of Danny’s face and behind his ear. “Are you ready to handle the backlash from that? What about everything you said yesterday?” Roy inquired with a delicate voice. He wouldn’t get mad at Danny, he promised so. Besides, Danny did this for him—because of him. If he had told Danny he wanted him home the first time he asked Danny wouldn’t have had to do this.

The younger man shrugged with a pout on his face, his attention still on the floating bubbles and flowers. “Not really,” Danny answered his first question, prompting Roy to caress his cheek. “I know what I said—It’s probably true, but you’re more important to me than any of that. I was thinking, Roy. You’re always there for me. You always want me to feel good, and try your best to make sure that I do. You care about me. You take care of me. My fans are gonna grow up. I’m gonna be so irrelevant one day that I won’t be able to pay someone to book me...But you’ll still be here. You deserve all my time and energy. You never ask for it. This is the one time you have. I wanna do this for you, Roy. You’re my priority.”

Roy’s heart swelled as Danny spoke. He smiled at him, tilting his chin up to catch his lips in a kiss. “I love you, Danny.” Roy mumbled with his lips pressed against his. “I love you so much,” he cupped Danny’s face, deepening their kiss. “Thank you for this,” Roy took a break from attacking Danny’s lips to press their foreheads together. “I know what you’re sacrificing to be here, and I appreciate it so much.”

Danny knew the consequences to this: A handful of promoters who wouldn’t want to work with him anymore, disappointed fans, and the loss of at least a few colleagues respect. But he had made Roy happy. He would be spending the holidays with his mom and brothers; his friends and the love of his life. Right now, Danny was content in his decision. He leaned in to kiss Roy’s lips again, a laugh lingering on his smile.

AN: I said this in a previous post, but to reiterate: I had already written in the bit about Danny canceling gigs before he had done so. It’s not my intention to upset anyone who missed out on their chance to see Adore, or make it seem like I don’t believe her reasons for canceling.

[imagine-loki]

Monsters and Magic

TITLE: Monsters and Magic CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 8/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a vampire who helps the Avengers defeat an evil seethe of other vampires, and Loki befriends you after you end up in their custody RATING: T (so far) NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

     You ducked into your own room and to your bathroom to wash your face and run a brush through your hair before you tied it out of your way, not feeling like dealing with it anymore. You checked your tank top and realized you’d gotten blood on it when Thor had distracted you, so you stripped it off and threw a t-shirt on instead. You spent the time trying to convince yourself that things would be ok. They wouldn’t think you a monster if you were careful to stick to animal blood. Thor would forgive you. You just had to be more careful. And not listen to silver-tongued gods.

    A minute later, you stepped into the hallway to find both Asgardians waiting for you. Loki was dressed again, but you could see the bite mark on his neck, his shirt wasn’t high enough to cover it, since like most normal people he wasn’t wearing a turtleneck. You rushed over to him and reached up a hand to touch it. The wound was closed, not bleeding anymore since you’d sealed it before Thor had tackled you, but it was still angry and obvious. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It doesn’t hurt,” he told you warmly and leaned down to kiss you.

    “But-”

    He pressed a finger to your lips. “No buts. I told you I was ok with it, and I’m not changing my mind on that. My idiot brother hurting your feelings doesn’t change anything except how many daggers he currently has sticking out of his body,” you glanced at Thor who currently had zero daggers sticking out of his body. That seemed impressive, considering Loki’s track record on stabbing his brother. Loki caught your glance. “We came to an agreement. This time,”

    “Do I even want to know?” you asked the silly trickster warily. His arrangements could be… creative and not in a good way.

    “Probably not,” he admitted and took your hand.

    You reached your free hand back up to his neck. “I can put an illusion over that-” you started.

    He laughed aloud, and loudly, thouroughly amused by that suggestions. “Darling, if I cared at all about who saw it, I could place the illusion myself,” he told you, still laughing. That was a fair point. Illusions were one of his specialities.

    “At least let me heal it better? I was kinda rushed for time…”

    He huffed. “It’s fine, sweetheart, stop fretting over me,” he told you, then sighed. “At least you’re feeling better,” he added warmly, assuming correctly that if you were up to fretting this much over him that you were doing better after the blood donation.

    “Come along, children, it’s time for dinner,” Thor reminded you kindly. Loki rolled his eyes dramatically. You flushed, unsure of Thor after his hurtful words, hell, unsure of yourself after his hurtful words.

    “We aren’t children, oaf,” he replied grumpily.

    Thor looked you over and had a sad look on his face. “What’s wrong?” you asked, concerned for the sad-puppy-dog look.

    “Your throat. Lady, I-” he started to apologize.

    He was being unhelpful and spluttering, so you looked at Loki. “What’s he talking about?” you asked him instead.

    Loki laughed. “Do you not own a mirror?” he teased.

    You glared. “I got out of the habit of looking in them over the last four years. The old vampires banned them from the lair,” you reminded him sourly. “Is he calling me ugly, because even I’ll kick his ass for that. Or let you stab him,” you corrected. Loki chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

    “Easy, pixie,” he teased. You’d made him watch the Tinkerbell movie when Tony wouldn’t stop calling you that. He’d wanted to understand the nickname. Loki had decided he liked it too, but wouldn’t use the same nickname, so you were occasionally ‘pixie’ especially when someone actually got you riled. “You have a massive purple bruise on your neck from my idiot brother holding you against the wall by it,” he explained before you could stomp off to go find a mirror. A little hand-mirror appeared in Loki’s hand and he handed it to you so you could look. There was a large purple hand-shaped bruise around your neck. Great.

    Thor babbled off more apologies. “Don’t worry, Thor. It’ll heal by tomorrow,” you told him, cutting off the babbles of apologies. “C’mon boys, you both get cranky when you’re hungry,” you took Loki’s hand and reached to grab Thor’s wrist to haul them both to the elevator and dinner, but stopped, unsure. He had been so enraged. He saw your hesitation, though, saw your uncertainty, and you saw his face fall again that his harsh words had cut so deeply. You tentatively grabbed his wrist, timid, shy, but he didn’t pull away or yell, in fact, they both relaxed and laughed at the tiny pixie of a vampire dragging their god-like-asses to dinner. You dropped Thor’s wrist in the elevator, but kept hold of Loki’s hand and the three of you walked together to the dining room.

    “Took you long enough, Point Break,” Tony teased. Natasha was bringing in a pot of some Russian dish for dinner. Thor took his place and Loki pulled your chair out for you and kissed your cheek when you were seated. “Tinkerbell, I know you’re just a kid, but that’s not the proper way to ‘neck’ boyfriend,” Tony teased you too when he saw the bite mark on Loki’s neck. You flushed and stared down at your plate while you tried to think of a witty comeback or anything to say that would make you appear like anything other than a monster, but it was hard when you knew you shouldn’t have bitten Loki…

    “Ooh, so you two are finally official then?” Nat jumped in to the embarrassing, catching your expression. Her question was happy and excited, she liked you and wanted you happy. Clint was applauding the development too. You flushed even redder and nodded.

    “Stark, you’re being an ass,” Loki informed Tony calmly. “My lady was weakened by walking through the noon sun to meet the sorcerer on the team’s request. The least I could do was make sure she recovered quickly from it,”

    “I thought-” Cap started, obviously on a line of how you didn’t eat people and survived on animal blood.

    “Enough,” Thor protested firmly before anyone else got started on this. “We have all the explanation we need. Lady Y/N was wounded on a mission for us. Asgardian blood restored her faster than animal would have. No one was hurt and nothing has changed,”

    Ah, that was the arrangement. Loki got Thor to agree to stick up for you in exchange for not getting stabbed. The team would agree with Thor faster than they’d agree with Loki. It didn’t change that you were a monster.

    “And how exactly did you get that hand-shaped wound on your neck?” Clint demanded, glaring at Loki. He was overprotective of you since you’d saved his life. He’d taken a liking to you after that, vampire or no.

    “It wasn’t Loki!” you told him quickly. “I swear!” you added before he could try to say you were lying to defend your new boyfriend. You weren’t inclined to tell him what really happened, though. The team kept glaring, demanding an answer.

    “There was a misunderstanding…” Thor started. “I thought she was harming Loki when…” he gestured to the mark on Loki’s neck and you stared down at your plate again, tears in your eyes.

    “I shouldn’t have-” you started to apologize again.

    “Please stop apologizing just because my idiot brother said some stupid hurtful things. You’re not a monster. I consented and practically made you take my blood so you would recover. You haven’t hurt me, or anyone here. I care for you sweetheart, as do the others…admittedly,” Loki said, adding the last with a hint of a smirk. He kissed your cheek. “So please don’t cry. I’d hate to have to kill Thor. Mother would be so upset,” you laughed a little at that. Nat and Clint both threw dinner rolls at Thor and called him a stupid oaf.

    “So how did the meeting with the sorcerer go?” Cap asked while he dodged more dinner rolls being thrown over his head.

    “He said we can count him as an ally,” you started and explained your meeting with the sorcerer and how you and Loki were allowed to visit to use his shiny magic books to study from. Loki looked sheepish. “Is that clone of yours still there?” you asked accusingly. He tried to look innocent.

    “There is a man named Wong who is currently quite annoyed that I am there sitting on his desk reading,” Loki replied with a smirk. You laughed at that image and the atmosphere finally cleared and lightened.

    *

    “Tinkerbell, can you get Point Break? I need to move this suit,” Tony asked later when you were working together on a suit in the lab.

    You huffed and rolled your eyes. “Where do you want it?” you asked. He gestured to the empty table, obviously thinking you were going to get Thor and give him directions. Instead, you lifted the suit yourself and placed it on the table while he stared.

    “Vampire,” you reminded him.

    “But you’re so little,” he protested. You shrugged and went back to the designs you’d been working on, hopping up on one of the tables to sit and work on about three different screens suspended in the air in front of you.

    “Vampires have superhuman strength,” you reminded him as you worked.

    He nodded and then seemed to remember something. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. There’s a press conference tomorrow night to announce Reindeer Games as part of the team. Don’t worry, we’re not announcing you as part of the team too, though you are, we know you’re not a fighter,” he added quickly at your concern. “We think it’d be a good idea for you to be there though. You have a great effect on Loki’s temper. And of course he wants to show off his girlfriend,” he teased a little. You stuck your tongue out at him. “Also, if you want it, there’s a job waiting for you at Stark Industries. We always need help in the labs and R&D. And no one cares if you want to work in the middle of the night. Hell, I’ve been there at 3am already…”

    “That sounds wonderful!” You told him. It was one of your options for after graduation to begin with. Your future hadn’t been decided, but working at Stark Industries had been one of your ideal jobs. “Wait! Does that mean I’m off house-arrest?” you asked him. He smirked.

    “You and boyfriend both,” he replied.

    “How long are you going to tease about us dating?” you grumped as you returned your attention to the screens in front of you.

    “Until it stops being funny. Blueberry?” he asked, holding the packet out to you. You took one and popped it in your mouth.

    *

    You smirked at Tony passed out over one of the work tables at 3am and lifted him over your shoulder. He didn’t stir even as you carried him from the lab. “Jarvis, lock up?” you asked as you left.

    “Yes, Miss,” the AI replied.

    You carried the unconscious Tony over your shoulder all the way up to the penthouse floor where he and Pepper lived. You knocked on the door and Pepper opened it in her pajamas. “I think this belongs to you,” you told her, indicating the unconscious Tony over your shoulder.

    She smiled brightly and stepped back from the door, opening it wider. “Yes, it does. Can you put him on the bed? He’s hard for me to handle when he’s in that state,” she admitted, gesturing to the Tony draped over your shoulder. You were way more effective at carrying him than she was.

    You hesitated. “Um… I would, but… I need a bit more of an invitation…” you admitted softly. “I can call one of the boys up to help with Tony, instead,” you offered quickly, flushing in embarrassment. You couldn’t enter without an invitation and you didn’t blame her if she didn’t want to invite you in. Stupid vampire rules.

    “Nonsense, I just didn’t know. Come in,” she told you kindly. You stepped over the threshold and followed Pepper to the bed where she wanted Tony. You dumped him on the bed. “He was so happy to find out you weren’t dead. Most people wouldn’t believe it of him, but he had actually kept track of your academic career. He said you were one of the brightest minds to cross his path in years and he took your death hard,”

    “I didn’t know he was keeping track besides your paying my tuition,” you admitted. You’d only seen him the once when he had officially given you the scholarship, and you knew Pepper paid the bills because that’s what she did.

    “There’s not many 14 year olds who apply for the Dreamer’s Scholarship,” she reminded you kindly. You smiled, remembering Tony’s shocked confused expression. He’d read your application obviously, but still hadn’t seemed to want to believe. “He was curious to see what you would make of yourself with that big brain of yours. Are you going to come work at Stark Industries? Tony said he was going to ask you,” she added at your shocked expression.

    You nodded. “I am, though not tomorrow night because of the press conference,”

    “I look forward to seeing you there. Thanks for bringing him home,” she told you warmly. You nodded and said goodbye so she could get back to sleep.

    You wandered back to the main floor and found Loki on your usual couch with a book. “Why are you still awake?” you asked him by way of greeting. It was late. Everyone besides the vampire should be asleep. He smiled warmly at you.

    “I took a nap while you were playing in the lab with Stark,” he admitted and stood to kiss you. “Come with me, I wanted to show you something,” he told you with a grin and took your hand to lead you to the elevator.

    “What are you up to, silly trickster?” you asked with a giggle.

    “You’ll see,” he told you with a smile as you rode up to the roof of the tower at 3am. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close and kissed the top of your head. He was adorable with his little surprise. He took your hand and dragged you out of the elevator like an excited child and you couldn’t help being happy with his infectious joy.

    He led you to the middle of the roof/launch pad where a picnic blanket had been set out. There were candles around it, both on the ground and floating in the air as well as a picnic basket, two glasses of wine and a couple pillows and blankets. “Surprise!” he told you warmly.

    “Loki, it’s wonderful,” you told him. He summoned a zippered hoodie and draped it over your shoulders after you had sat down for your surprise picnic. You looked up at him confused, but pleased by his gallant action.

    “It’s chilly out here,” he explained as you slipped the hoodie on. “The chill doesn’t bother me, perks of being a frost giant,” he added before you could question why he was out here in short sleeves.

    Your picnic was nothing but desserts, but that just made it all the more perfect, sitting under the stars and the full moon, chatting with Loki over deserts and wine. Your wine was spiked, and though you didn’t need the extra blood after having Loki’s earlier, it was still thoughtful of him. You talked for a long time, just enjoying his company and the impromptu surprise picnic. He laid back on the blanket one of the pillows under his head and you laid your head on him as you joined him. He pulled one of the blankets up around you. His fingers ran through your hair as you watched the stars and planes across the night sky.

    You sat up just before dawn. Loki had fallen asleep and was adorable and peaceful. You stroked his long hair and he smiled, automatically cuddling better with you. “Wake up, Loki,” you told him softly and kissed him. You didn’t want to wake him, but it was nearly dawn and you needed to get back inside, or at least under cover.

    “Hmm?” he asked softly.

    “I know it’s early, but you need to wake up,” you told him gently and kissed him again.

    His eyes finally opened and he actually looked a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he told you quickly. You smiled and kissed him yet again.

    “It’s alright. I fall asleep on you often enough,” you reminded him, teasing. He smiled at that. “I wouldn’t have woken you, but it’s almost dawn…”

    “Of course,” he agreed automatically, understanding that vampires shouldn’t play with the sun.

    “We can still watch the sunrise,” you told him quickly as you both stood and he used magic to clear your picnic. “Just from over there,” you pointed to the awning next to the entrance back into the tower. There would be enough cover until you could duck back inside.

    “Are you sure? We can go inside,” Loki reminded you, worried. You stood up on your toes to kiss him.

    “It’ll be fine. There’s enough coverage,” you reassured him. “I’ve watched the sunrise quite a few mornings,” you added at his concern. You took his hand and led him over to the awning. You stood there with his arm around your shoulders, watching the beautiful sunrise. “It’s beautiful,” you told him as you watched the sky change colors.

    “Yes, my darling, you are,” Loki told you warmly. You looked up at him and saw that he had been watching your joy at the gorgeous view of the sun rising over the city. He leaned down to kiss you in the growing light. You shut your eyes when the light got too bright and hid your face against Loki’s chest. “I’ve got you, you’re safe,” he told you gently, his arm around you to lead you back inside.

    “Thank you, Loki. This was perfect,” you told him, not having the words for just how adorable and perfect your impromptu picnic date had been.

    “It was a wonderful evening indeed, sweetheart,”

    Loki kissed you again when you were safely inside, still bathed in the light of the sun coming through the big windows, but able to open your eyes again since all the windows in the tower had been replaced. It was perfect indeed.

[genomynt]

Reunion...

A SanPu HC for @puddingwars

It's been a while since the Straw Hats left the Whole Cake Island off to Wano and Pudding finally escaped from Big Mama's hands. Pudding has been tailing the Straw Hats ever since she heard that they are in danger, especially when thean she loves is involved. She sailed to Wano as well, getting information about the Straw Hats day by day from the gossips of the townspeople and from the newspapers as well.

Pudding was hiding in an alley and in was undercover in her hooded cloak as she saw Sanji is being chased by some Samurai men as she tries to get his attention.

"Psst! Sanji....san, over here!"

"Huh?" A lady just called me? Sanji exhales hot puffs from his nose as he makes a turn and runs fast as he can, loosing the men that was chasing him.

"AH, MELLORI—Eh..." Sanji's jaw dropped on his sight as the hooded figure reveals her identity.

"It's been a long time, Jerk!" says the teary-eyed-yet-looks-annoyed-Pudding. "P-Pudding-chan, what are you doing here? It's dangerous!" Sanji pushed her back in the corner of the alley.

"I-I've been watching over you, jerk head! I come over here as soon as I heard your careless crew!" She said.

Sanji paused and smiled, looks around and turns to Pudding, "You know, this atmosphere kind of remind me of something." He said and sat on one of the fruit boxes stacked on the side.

"Eh? What is?"

"It's like the day when we part, remember? We were both in an alley at that time and... And you said a particular request which I don't remember if I granted to you or not." He sighed and smiled.

Pudding gripped something inside her dress pocket, it was a small box containing the film strip of that memory.

"Oh, and I think you have, Ji—Sanji-san. You've finally reunited with your friends at that time when as I run away after I told you to stop smoking and put away your cigarette—"

"Wait, you put away my cigarette at that time?"

"H-Huh?" Oh shit, he found out.

"You said you put away my cigarette, I was confused at that time why my cigarette was put off on the floor and said you had this last request which I don't remember." He stood up and turns to her, "You... You altered my memories, don't you?"

"H-Huh? Why would I even do that?" She puts back her hood on and turned her back on Sanji and attempts on running away.

"Hey, Pudding! Answer me!" He stopped her by grabbing her hand, which is still attached on her dress pocket and her hand reveals a box. "Eh, what's this?" He asked, "I-it's nothing important!" Pudding pulls her hand away and puts the small box on her chest. "It's nothing, really. YOU REMEMBERED NOTHING ON THAT DAY!"

"Oy! Pudding-chan! At least, let me hear that request again, it is rude for a gentleman not to grant a lady's request." Sanji still holding her hand looks at her with determination. Pudding squirmed and grips on the box to Sanji.

"I-it's... Your memory on that day." She opens it and put the film inside his head.

It was the day when she made her final request, he remembers Pudding run towards him, pulls the cigarette away from his mouth and kissed him. He remembers the taste of nicotine and the sweetness of her lips combined during the kiss. He remembers her last parting words with tears in her eyes saying,

"Jiji...Thanks for everything! Goodbye..."

"P-Pudding-chan..."

"It was a lame request," she cried and wiped her tears. "I knew you don't love me after all I've done to you, your friends and your sister. I wanted you to remember me as your good-actor-fiancé. Besides, you wouldn't love me, I'm still an ugly three-eyed monst—"

Pudding was stopped from her sentence as Sanji suddenly kisses her, and wraps his arms around her. Pudding can tell he hadn't smoked in a while as he kisses him back and pulls him closer to her. "That's not true, you look beautiful just the way you are, Pudding-chan." He caresses her face and tucks her bangs aside to see the view of her eye. "I'm even not kidding on our wedding day." Sanji smiled at her.

Pudding looks at him sincerely, she still can't believe a man, this man would tell these words to her again.

"I-I'm happy, Jiji," she giggles with tears in her eyes.

[rickfallsforgravity]

Heart of the Storm

(Older Dipper x Reader // Trigger warnings: violence and some swearing) Foreword: Not a 100%  sure I’m happy with this but here it is anyway. The monster is kind of base of Sirens…? Anyway, hope you enjoy!

The morning haze drifted through the trees as I listened to Dipper’s heavy footsteps along the dirt path. Everything was still, stagnant, silent other than us and the sleepy morning mist. I looked towards him, the ragged journal tucked into the crook of his arm, the sunlight breaking through the canopy in rays that turned his hair a brilliant golden. I took a deep breath; the air was so heavily laced with moisture it was almost suffocating. I glanced through the leaves and noticed the clouds gathering, clustering…

“A storms brewing,” I said breaking the silence. Dipper’s head turned slightly, glancing at me, “and it’s a big one. Whatever you’re planning to do you better make it fast.”

A small smile entwined into his lips as he nodded but didn’t say anything.

 It wasn’t normal for him to be this quiet. Yeah sure, he was shy and adorably awkward in most social situations however, just like his sister, he was a talker. Especially with close friend. Normally, he would be babbling on about something science related or a new monster he discovered. I felt my heart rate increase a little, anxiety setting in. It just wasn’t like him to be this… quiet.

Suddenly he stopped and opened the journal, flicking through the pages until he found what he was looking for. I twisted myself to face him, to see whether I could guess what he was thinking but his eyes where hidden under his cap, shadowed and dark. I couldn’t read a thing.

“Dipper… what exactly are we out here to do?” I asked cautiously. It was stupid for me to even get worked up like this, I mean this was Dipper! And it wasn’t like this was the first time going on walks with him… But, it was just me and him, deep in the woods, alone…

He had changed over the last year too; grew a lot taller, put on a little muscle, became rather cute- I shook my head vigorously. What was I thinking, I’ve known Dipper for years! Being in a relationship with him would be wrong (no matter how many time Mabel tried to set us up together). It would never be ideal.

Plus, there was no way he liked me back. He’s obsessed with Wendy, always has been…

“You’ll see,” a wry smile on his lips. It was almost like he was mocking me… My anxiety rose like a mountain lion waking from a deep slumber as we started to walk again. I fell silent, trying to tame my heart, coaxing it into submission. Maybe it was the atmosphere. The air heavy with water molecules, so much so that it clung to my skin. It was claustrophobic. It was unbreathable. And it seemed to get worse the deeper we went into the forest but maybe it just my anxiety building and building and building-

Suddenly there was a break in the trees. I gasped, partly from amazement, partly because my lungs were on fire. As we edged into the clearing the mist parted to reveal a lake. Crystalline. Tranquil. So still and undisturbed that it reflected the sky, it’s water shimmering silver. The air here was so dense it was almost like I was drowning. The oxygen deprivation made my head spin and I clasped onto Dipper to steady myself. But it didn’t take away its beauty.

Without the leaf canopy hiding the sun, its light rained down, reflecting off the water dense mist to create fragments of rainbows in every direction I looked. Millions of colours. Everywhere.

“Dipper…” I breathed, my voice hardly audible. I felt his hand slip into mine and I realised that he too was struggling to breath. “What is this place?”

“I found it, once. A few months back. And I thought it was beautiful… I’ve been trying to look for it ever since; almost obsessively. It appears in various parts of the forest before the biggest storm of every month and then complete disappears.” He muttered, “I’ve not told anyone else about this yet, I- I wanted you to be the first one I showed it too.” But as I look out over the lake again… there wasn’t a single breath of life. Not a breath of wind. Not a single minuscule ripple of the water. Not a sound. It was like everything was drowned, dead and wilting; an uneasiness settled into my gut. Everything about this place was… off.

“Dipper… let’s leave” I glanced to the clouds, they had gone a grey so dark they were almost black. This couldn’t be good. I tugged at Dipper’s hand but he only stiffened, unmoving as his eyes locked onto metallic pool. As the dark clouds rolled over the edge of the trees into the clearing, the fragmented colours started to fade, shadowing us in the grim. In the oncoming dark, the perfectly circler lake started to glow. I watched, intrigued, as ripples broke the surface of the mirror and a body started to emerge from the middle of the lake.

Dipper took a step forward, mesmerised, nearing the water’s edge.

Then it started to rain. The storm unfurled, blossoming from a light English drizzle into an Asian monsoon. The droplet so heavy they bruised my skin like hail. The body unfolded into a beautiful lady, her eyes closed, perfect and still. Her skin the colour of death, pale and fragile. Her dark wet hair slicked to her back. Her blue dress clinging to her wet body, the water making it practically transparent, revealing… everything.

But she was beautiful.

Dippers hand slipped from mine, my fumbling fingers unable to grasp any friction with his. He fell onto his knees as if in prayer. Like he was seeing god-

Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open and I wanted to scream… but only silence was granted by my terror. Her eyes were abysses of oblivion- for she had no eyes, only a blackness that engulfed where they should have been. No iris, no pupil, no whites of the eyes- only nothingness.

And then she started to sing…

I felt my conscience dance to the hymns. Entrapped by its beauty. My mind was compelled towards her, making me want to throw myself into the lake, to give her all of me. My mind flooded for the sudden desire to become one with her. Suddenly, I was just another string on her harp of souls, just waiting for her to use me and my body for whatever she craved. The whole universe now revolved around her, silent and waiting.

I staggered lake wards, squinting through the pelting rain. Water stinging my eyes, everything turning into blurry visions. Suddenly, my foot caught on a rock and I tumbled forward, catching myself moments away from plunging head first into the dark murky depths of the lake. I froze, staring into the water, my face inches away from its surface.

Thousands of black eyes stared up at me, their faces ugly and deformed, contorted into looks of hunger and desire. Their skin wrinkled and grey. Their hair sparse and thinning.

And as they saw me they started to surge towards me, claws outstretched, yellow with age. Their mouths opened in anguish, showing rotting fangs. I threw myself backwards in a mad panic. This was a trap! All of it! I looked towards the maiden and what I saw horrified me. She was the worst of them all once the facade had fallen, spell broken. She was a rotting carcass, her skin grey and decaying, broken by maggots that had stripped the flesh to the bone. Her mouth agape, no longer singing but screaming…

Animals of all sorts were now emerging from the bushes, completely enraptured by the spell. Like zombies they stepped into the water, their eyes never leaving the maiden. Violently, they were dragged into the depths of the lake. The army of monstrosities tearing the poor things apart. Claws ripping apart flesh and fur. Teeth sinking into helpless throats. The blood of the deer, squirrels and foxes tainting the pure lake, the horror living on as the animals thrashed, calling and squealing as they were literally torn apart alive, the fear glinting in their eyes as the witchcraft fractured all too late.

Everything just a blur of red and silver; screaming bodies thrashing, drowning, dying in front of me. The silence before the storm now long gone as I found myself caught in its craze, the rain crashing down so loud, so brutal- this was the epicentre. This was what lurked at the heart of the storm…  

Suddenly I remembered Dipper and my eyes darted franticly. Momentary relief flooding through my veins as he was still on the grass. But I fell back into terror’s hold as I remembered that he was still trapped in the magic-

With eyes still glued to the woman, he carelessly casted the journal aside and started to strip, slowly pulling off his hoodie. He was falling for it! I needed to pull him out of the enchantment, I needed to find a way to bring his mind back into reality-

He tugged off his shirt, revealing his bare chest, his skin illuminating in the darkness. He stood up, moments away from meeting the water…

I lunged at him, pulling him onto the grass, sending us both tumbling away from the lake. I straddled him, my weight pinning him down as he squirmed underneath me. His pupils still dilated; searching for her, the maiden of the lake. He should have snapped out of it by now, why did he-

An abrupt snarl escaped his lips, the enchantment turning him into an animal, a wild thing, making him mad with desire. His nails dug into my skin, drawing blood as he tried to get me off him.

“Dipper…” I whimpered, struggling to keep hold of his slippery body. Why was their effect so strong on him? Why didn’t he just snap out of it when he broke eye contact like I did?

Suddenly, an outburst of shock escaped my lungs as a white-hot throbbing bloomed across my face. I was violently thrown to the side as Dipper’s fist connected with my cheekbone, the blood rushing to my face as it already started to swell red. My hand gingerly lingered over my cheek, the initial shock subsiding as the realisation hit home… Dipper had never hit me before.

As quick as lighting, he was on his feet again. My existence completely erased from his mind as he solely concentrated on her, stumbling forward, slipping in the mud, muttering something under his breath. He was blinded by his craving for her, who was in his mind was more beautiful than I ever could be… it made my stomach twist in jealousy. It hurt to see him like this…

Gritting my teeth, I staggered into a standing position. Hurt turned into hatred faster than a flutter of butterfly wings, igniting a fire within me that I didn’t realise I had. I advanced towards him, every scrape of my bones sparking new anger, new envy, new loathing. This was going to stop. NOW.

My hand clawed his shoulder as I spun him around to face me. His feral eyes darkened with insanity, his body preparing for a fight he knew he was going to win. A fight that would leave one of us dead. Preparing to end me. I growled, returning the hostility, returning the aggression- Then I did something that neither of us expected…

I kissed him.

I felt him stiffen with shock as my lips met his. He was soft, gentle, a scared animal lost within layers of incantations created by evil. I wrapped my arms around his torso, his skin electric against mine-

Then I felt him kiss me back.

His hands caressing my waist as he pulled me into him, deepening the kiss. The fire within me exploded with passion, taking over whatever sense I had. All dangers forgotten as we were lost in the heat of our bodies in union. My finger entwined into his wet, curly, locks of hair; never letting go, never stopping, never going to let him slip through my fingers like that again…

We finally pulled away, our lungs screaming for oxygen. Our pants releasing wisps of steam into the atmosphere. I glanced around us, noticing the stillness that had again overcome the forest, only fragmented by the rusting leaves in the wind. The rain had stopped…

“(Y-y/n),” Dipper stammered, his eyes large and curious, his fringe pulled back to reveal his birthmark. He was back to his normal self, good old dipping sauce. I brought a finger to his lips, hushing him gently as my own lips went to rested on his collarbone. I looked past him, into the clearing and saw that the lake was gone… like it never existed. Just grass and undergrowth.  

I sighed, relieved and finally let Dipper go, laughing when I saw how ridiculous we looked. Dipper’s clothes scattered on the floor, both of us covered in bruises, dirt and scratches, soaked in rain.

“Ford is going to throw a hissy fit when he sees us like this,” My laugh echoing through the trees, a deep blush blossoming on his cheeks as he looked around. I could just imagine it: Ford’s deep, steady, logical voice telling Dipper that we ‘were not kids children anymore’ and that we really should not go fooling about in the forest alone. Especially not during a storm. Stan would be standing behind him, adding on that he was a young man once and knew what it was like. When asked if anything did happen, Dipper would give everything away with a stuttered denial and the blood rushing to his cheeks. Mabel would then lose it; squealing ‘I KNEW IT’ before running off screaming ‘OTP’ or ‘Omgomgomgomg’. Ford would come to the conclusion that we were into some really kinky shit, judging by the state of ourselves, and Stan would pretend to be disappointed but secretly wink at Dipper, letting him know that he was totally onboard with the whole situation…

And I would get up from where every I was sitting, walk up to Dipper as I take his hand and plant a deep sensual kiss on his throat. Then continue in a flirty tone, ‘I’m going to take a shower, I’ll be waiting for you so don’t be too long…’ before winking at him and walking off. Probably escalating the situation by 1000% to then leave him to deal with the aftermath.

I grinned and turned to Dipper who had finished putting his soggy clothes back on. I cocked my head to one side and gave my most innocent smile.

Today was going to be interesting.

Written by M.S.T

[irezine]

New Post has been published on Home Decor Trends

New Post has been published on http://www.uhozz.com/paint-ceiling-panels-tips-ideas-choosing-right-color.html

Paint Ceiling Panels - Tips and Ideas for Choosing the Right Color

The ceiling cladding is very popular, especially if it consists of wooden panels. Unfortunately, it does not fit in with the new stoneware tiles or furniture or the old ceiling lights have left their mark. Then a renewal or new painting comes into question. The first one costs a lot of money, time and waste. On the other hand, it is relatively easy to delete the unsightly ceiling panels. Depending on the material you should proceed differently – unfortunately, some panels can not be painted. You will find important tips in the article.

Paint ceiling panels – Which material to treat as

Ceiling panels contribute to a cozy atmosphere and can change the overall effect of the room. The ceiling panels are not only sound and heat insulating, they can also make a room appear higher. Under the general term – wood panels, these are made of solid wood and veneered wood fiber boards. Plastic panels emulate the popular wood look perfectly; professionals recommend a coat of paint. Above all, it should firstly be clear what material you are dealing with and to test the coating. A paint coat, for example, should be carefully sanded beforehand.

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Paint ceiling panels – plastic and polystyrene panels

There is a risk with the plastic panels that they do not absorb any color at all. In contrast, polystyrene panels can even be painted over with conventional wall paint. Emulsion paint and latex paint are also very suitable for the polystyrene panels. These are characterized by a pore-open surface and after thorough cleaning are already set for new painting. There is even the option to make the ceiling even two-colored – to color joints and panels differently. It is important to mention that the structure of the Styrofoam is a very careful treatment – ornaments and characteristic structure can be damaged when roughened.

Ceiling panels and wall cladding in wood look

As a popular material for ceiling panels MDF is used. It basically consists of pressed wood fibers covered with cover foil or veneer. These are characterized by relatively smooth surface that absorbs heavy paint. Roughen the substrate with fine sandpaper by hand or with the aid of a sander. The already treated ceiling can be painted over with any solvent-free acrylic or latex paint. Do not forget to roast the MDF panels before painting.

Ceiling panels made of real wood in classic white

Real wood panels need a special coat of paint. Because of the paint coating, if one is detected, the surface is completely sanded off. Since this treatment is extremely expensive, you renounce in the future of the paint. For interior rooms suitable glaze, wood wax or wood oil will surprise with excellent results.

Paint ceiling panels – make dark

According to a basic rule of Profimaler, only a previously primed white background allows successful result in exactly selected shade or light color. If you want to prime the ceiling panels with a lighter shade, prime them completely white.

Paint ceiling panels – five important tips

Before you paint the ceiling panels, you must not disregard the pretreatment. Do not paint the ceiling panels without the necessary preparation. Nicotine residues can be deposited on the surface, so you need to thoroughly treat this surface with soapy water – tedious work that will guarantee flawless results.

Paint the ceiling panels and cover the room and furniture with construction foil

For painting panels you need the following materials:

lye

primer

Sandpaper in different grain sizes

Paint in the desired color

duct tape

Paint or polyester putty

Grease and silicone cleaner

Before proceeding with the renovation work, clean up the room in question, cover all windows and doors with building film and get a dust mask and goggles.

The following tools will serve you well when painting:

paint bucket

brush

paint rollers

Edger

Angle or orbital sander

Prepare the ceiling panel before painting

The first step in the preparation of the ceiling panels is grinding. If the panel has already been painted, you must completely remove the old paint. For ceiling panels, the angle or orbital sander are excellent helpers. If veneered panels are used, do not sand too deeply on the edges, as the thickness of the veneer may be between 0.3 and 5 mm.

Fill holes and blemishes on the wooden panels and sand

Existing cracks and holes should be filled after the first coat and then sanded off again. Otherwise, all bumps on the freshly painted surface will be clearly visible. Use putty exactly suited for the material. The plastic polystyrene panels can melt an unsuitable leveling compound. If it is a small damage, you can use paint spatula. With polyester putty you can, for example, smooth veneer surfaces.

Provide a good foundation for successful results

Glue residue is difficult to remove, but an ugly surface will definitely not produce excellent results. Clean the surface with grease and silicone cleaner and allow the cleaning agent to dry. With a dust-binding cloth, you can then wipe the panels. Cover edges and strips with masking tape.

Priming the ceiling panels

Depending on which color system you have selected, you may also want to prime before painting. Some paints include both base coat and top coat. For example, a final topcoat layer has the waterborne acrylic finish. The primer must be evenly applied and allowed to dry.

Paint ceiling panels – insert brush and paint roller

With the wooden panels, you catch the area of tongue and groove. Carefully apply the new coat in small gaps. For the rest of the area use a paint roller. Depending on the color coverage you should apply two to three layers, so that the color can develop its luminosity. If you scratch the panels several times, you must make sure that one layer of paint has already dried before you apply the next one. Apply the clearcoat as soon as the basecoat has dried. If you are not satisfied with the topcoat in some places, you can carefully remove it and paint again. When applying the paint, always brush in the grain of the wood. Paint that you apply across the grain is not evenly distributed. Also, avoid applying too much paint at once.

Paint ceiling panels – ideas for color selection

Ceiling panels give you the opportunity to put the whole room in scene. Old ceiling panels can be redesigned in an intense color. Good condition to the room ultimately not appear cramped, would be a high ceiling. This offers great scope, looks brighter and more spacious. So that the color accents do not appear too striking and irritate the eye, nuances of the same color should find themselves in the room. A colored blanket creates a warm living ambience and the room instantly gets a more modern look. When choosing colors, you can orientate yourself to the ceiling height and your interior. If the furniture is rather dark, a light color will help to visually open the room. The same applies to a low ceiling height. In a light-filled room with high ceilings, even stronger colors fit.

Paint ceiling panels or renew completely – cover laminate

Styrofoam panels have a light wood design and may look better than a white ceiling. The trend is gray wood-like ceiling paneling, which gives the room a slight vintage look. If you want to paint laminate ceiling panels, you need special materials. That is why you should be advised best by the competent specialist staff.

Paint ceiling panels and redesign

However, glazes are only suitable for untreated wood and not for already painted surfaces. The rule here is that the panels can be colored darker, but not brighter. Before overcoating with opaque colors is always a pre-varnish to be applied.

Paper ceiling panels instead of painting

Before painting, the panels should be clean and free of grease. Finally, the sandpaper, recommended a coronation 220, is needed to roughen the blanket. Wood panels can also be wallpapered well. As with painting, it also applies here that old paintings have to be removed first. For improved adhesion, they should roughen the surface and close grooves before wallpapering. After careful preparation, you can paste the wallpaper and attach it to the ceiling. Smooth out any air bubbles with the wallpapering brush. Prevent drafting while wallpapering, otherwise the seams will open.

[fresh-princess-is-here]

Nalu Week: Prompt 4

Body Language

Prompt #4

Rating: M+ (sexual innuendo, indecent words)

Words: 1,689

“I’m telling you, she wants me.” Loki stated, eyeing a woman across the bar who short brown hair and a heated look on her features. Natsu flicked his eyes up from his phone, then back down, fighting an eye-roll.

“No, what she wants is her ex-boyfriend to stop talking to the redhead.” He informed helpfully.

Loki turned to him, giving him a sharp, interested glare, “How do you know that?”

“Because she walked past thirty minutes ago, talking to her friend about how it wasn’t technically stalking since it’s an open area and it’s purely by coincidence she’s in the same bar as he is,” Natsu began, taking a long sip of his drink, the alcohol burning down his throat in that familiar way, before continuing, “And for the last fifteen minutes she’s been downing shots of tequila, probably to work up the courage she needs to confront him.”

“It’s weird how you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Read people… And listen into their private conversations.”

“Nothing is a private conversation these days,” Natsu replied, bored out of his mind, before giving something for Loki to chew on, “But, since she’s obviously still hung up on him, maybe you can take one for the team and make the ex jealous.”

“That would still leave me high and dry.”

“Not if you play your cards right. Her friend is cute. She’ll either pity you for trying or think you’re a creep.”

“I’m still not following your logic.”

“He’s trying to tell you that even though she might perceive you as a creep, you can change her mind. Besides, if all the creeps in the world didn’t get sex, than we wouldn’t be suffering overpopulation in this bar.” A sweet voice slid over to them as the woman on the other side of Loki crossed her legs, flicking her blonde, long hair over her shoulder.

Hot, Natsu thought, eyes moving over her body slowly in a look of appreciation.

Warm brown eyes flickered over Loki, a considering long look before she returned to her cocktail, dressed in a tight red dress, that slid up her thighs when she shifted, revealing creamy skin and toned muscles. She lifted the stemmed glass to her pink lips, taking a swift sip.

“It has a chance of working. Odds are six to ten. Depending on factors like her type, inebriation and whether she’s in the mood.” She commented afterwards, staring at her drink thoughtfully.

Loki slid closer to her, obviously recognizing her as a stunning member of the opposite sex, “And what are the chances of us working out?”

“Negative zero. But the attempt will be amusing.” She replied back without missing a beat and the arousal Natsu felt mixed with amusement, as he turned back to his glass, motioning the busy bartender for another.

Loki took the message - for once, Natsu noticed - slapping Natsu on the back, with a parting open farewell (just in case he struck out) and then walked over to the two women. Natsu watched with a small amount of interest before thanking the bartender who refilled him.

“Are you psychologist?” The woman’s curious question voice caused made Natsu to glance over at her, getting lost in the curve of her tits and the twist of her lips.

“No. I’m a mechanic. I’m just good with people.”

One perfectly plucked eyebrow arched up, “Define ‘good with people’. Because your friend made it seem like you analyse people or something..””

Natsu chuckled lowly, turning to her person slightly more fully, as she leaned over the seat separating them, a curious expression on her face.

“I notice things that other people mostly don’t. Little things, like dialect, tell-signs, body language for example.I didn’t take a course or train for it, it’s just something I do.”

“That must make you one hell of a poker player.” She smiled a little, as Natsu laughed, giving a modest shrug even though yes, he used his peculiar talent of attention to detail to assist in swindling his friends out of hundreds.

“You offering a match because the buy-in has to be large to keep me interested.” He joked.

“I don’t play a lot of money-based gambling games. Strip poker is more my speed.” She admitted, and Natsu saw the truth there, the way her cheeks burnt, and how her body leaned in closed. His blood boiled in excited arousal at what he saw there.

She was interested.

It had been a while since a woman showed anything of the sort to Natsu, he had a been experiencing it of a dry streak and work had swallowed any attempt of a social life.

He carefully thought about how to proceed and decided a woman like the one beside him deserved every ounce of charm he could offer.

Admittedly it wasn’t much.

“Not a big risk taker?” Natsu asked, still struggling how to work this to his advantage, when she laughed, the noise husky and sweet.

“One would say baring yourself to another being is a bigger risk than money.”

Now Natsu was thinking about her bare, and his dick stiffened at the imaginary image floating through his mind. The words left his lips before he could stop them.

“Depends on the confidence of the person. Would you say you are confident when it comes to baring yourself?”

She pursed her lips playfully, but Natsu could tell she was only being coy and not truly thinking about his question. Then she leant in, resting her hand on the seat between them, tilting her head to whisper to him. Natsu found himself crowding in also, letting her lips brush his ear in a soft intimate confession.

“I like to think I’m quite confident on how good my body looks naked. How about you?”

Lust simmered inside of Natsu, making his gut tight and his pants tighter as he leaned back, eyes flicking down purposely to her full pink lips. Her tongue peaked out, licking along her bottom lip, obviously catching his attention there.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

Lucy, as she had dutifully informed him, placed her hand on his arm and laughed along to something he said, her touch soft and warm against his bare forearm. Natsu felt her lean in, talking over the loud music blaring now that the ‘party’ atmosphere had awakened.

But to Natsu, it could have just felt like it was him and Lucy, sharing bedroom eyes and stories about their lives. What he had learnt so far is Lucy was a financial advisor, had a puppy golden retriever who was overly fond of her shoes and didn’t have any family left that were worth mentioning.

”So, you really think that in a few years, science and technology will allow us to go onto another planet and start over?” She smiled, looking at his as if he was crazy and honestly, Natsu didn’t mind. As long as she was looking at him.

“Yes.” Natsu grinned, “You telling me that you wouldn’t like to live on Mars or something?”

“I suppose, but to Martians I’d be really ugly… and I don’t know if I could handle that.” She winked, finishing off her cocktail and Natsu chuckled softly, also finishing his, while tracking the bartender down for another. It took a few times to grab his attention but he managed before turning back to Lucy, looking deep into her warm brown eyes.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you’re stunning. Martian beauty standards and all.”

Lucy bit down on her lip, a pleased flush sprinkling her cheeks, making her skin glow even more under the light. She leaned closer, ignoring the bartender who was quietly refilling his drink and making her another.

Whatever she was about to say - something Natsu had been awaiting eagerly for - was cut off when Loki appeared, apparently haven struck out.

“No good buddy?” Natsu asked, despite his annoyance of being interrupted as Loki sat down beside him, waving at the bartender and ordering a rather strong drink.

“It was going so well too, but the minute I mentioned how desperate for a good time she looked, she shot me down.”

Natsu shook his head at his friends stupidity before feeling Lucy slowly slide her hand down from his arm, and place it on his thigh. He glanced at her through the corner of his eyes, head still tilted towards Loki as she smiled up at him, arching her eyebrow and biting her lower lip.

Heat filled him, making his cock twitch in his jeans, and he turned back to Loki, “That’s tough man.”

“It happens.” Loki shrugged, “The good news is that now we can turn this into a guys night. Especially since I’m not getting some.”

Natsu cleared his throat softly, leaning into Lucy’s grip on his thigh as her fingers trailed down his jeans, trying to ignore the fact that Loki assumed that if he wasn’t getting any, Natsu wasn’t either.

Lucy reciprocated this situation for him, by peeking over his shoulder, “I’m sorry, but Natsu is getting some. If he wants it that is.”

Loki’s eyes widened as Natsu smothered his smile, leaning down to brush his lips against her ear, “I want.”

Lucy’s smile was beautiful, sweet and filthy all at the same time as she tilted her body towards him, tucking her hair behind her ear with a heat in her eye that threatened to melt him alive.

“Want to get out of here?”

“I want that too.”

Lucy set about finishing her drink in one smooth gulp, and gathering her purse, pulling her black coat on around that sinfully tight dress of hers.

Natsu turned to Loki, climbing out of his seat, giving him a firm slap on the back, “Sorry man but… sorry.”

Loki gaped at him, squawking in an indignant tone, “What sort of friendship is this?”

“Take one for the team,” Natsu grinned, shrugging on his jacket also as Lucy slipped her hand against his, lacing their fingers together. Loki watched him with a look of outrage but Natsu was slowly being lured away, by the vixen in the tight red dress.

“Come on.” Lucy giggled, as Natsu threw a definite farewell over his shoulder, following her through the night-life of the bar. She glanced over her shoulder at him once or twice, sending him a naughty little smile, her hips swaying, fingers tightening around hers and he stopped them just outside the entrance.

He drew her close, unable to control himself when it came to her body language.

This is part one of a three part process for Nalu Week 2017. All the stories will be linked.

Hope you enjoyed!

Stay fresh!

xo freshprincess

[shadowphoenixrider]

Killing Kil’jaeden once and for all and finally closing the Legion’s gateway into the Tomb of Sargeras was a victory that felt like it should have been celebrated.

But it wasn’t.

Draggka gazed up into the darkening night sky, and the ugly, swollen, sundered blot that was the planet Argus hanging in the middle of it. She appreciated that Illidan’s idea had stopped her and her companions from being smashed across the planet’s surface like goblin roadkill, but now it was a sinister reminder of the Legion that had moved from being a distant threat to one that was practically on their doorstep.

"Any chance that it’s gone?” Draggka glanced over her shoulder to see Khadgar sitting on the bed, having seemingly given up halfway through stripping off his battle-robes, her raptor laying nearby. The weak glibness in his voice made her ears droop, especially when Spike laid his head on the mage’s feet in comfort.

“No,” she said softly. “It still be dere.”

“I figured as much.” Khadgar sighed, rubbing his face. He, like the rest of them who’d fought through the Tomb, were more than exhausted after it all. And the potential doom lingering above their heads had sapped any sliver of themselves that could have rallied for a celebration. “Fuck.”

Draggka glanced out of the window to Argus, almost spitefully placed to stare directly at her lover, and she pulled the curtains closed before she went to sit beside him. Spike shifted to stretch himself across both their feet.

“Ya worried someting will happen,” she said.

“He’s opened a pathway from the Legion homeworld to Azeroth.” Khadgar grumbled. “We might as well written arcane messages into the sky: ‘we are here, please destroy us’.” He sighed again, dragging his hands down his face, and the troll noted he looked every year of his cursed age, if not more. “It’s not that I’m not grateful that he saved us, essentially.” He reached out, taking her hand and squeezing it tight. “I’m glad we’re here, and I’m glad neither of us died. I just...”

“Ya thought ya were getting to de end of one battle, an’ another be starting.” Draggka spoke, her thumb tracing over his knuckles.

“Yeah. Exactly that. I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Draggka. I’ve given almost everything I have. I’m so tired...”

“I know.” The hunter shifted closer, wrapping her arm around him, and Spike uttered a soft, warbling rumble. “I know. I be tired too. Sometimes I wish we could be runnin’ away like we be doing during Love in Da Air, an’ just...take a break.” She tried for a lopsided smile. “Unfortunately, some assholes thought it be a good idea to be giving us responsibility.”

“Oh, yeah, like that goes well.” A small smile tugged at his lips for a moment. “When this is all over, take me back to Pandaria. Take me somewhere private, like you did last time. I want to be someone other than Archmage Khadgar, Leader of the Kirin Tor, Guardian of Azeroth.” He leaned over, resting his head against hers. “Let me just be Khadgar. Khadgar and his mate Draggka.”

She felt a smile grow around her tusks, and she nuzzled into him.

“Me an’ you...Dat sounds nice. I could be doing wit some peace, for once.”

“Yeah.”

A silence settled between them, and Draggka felt fatigue drag her muscles down, her back aching. And she could still feel the morose atmosphere sitting on them, and sense that Khadgar was trying not to look for the sickly green light Argus emanated sneaking its way under the curtains to remind him of his duties and potential nightmares.

“We should be getting to bed,” she said softly, gently tracing a kiss onto his cheek. “We be exhausted.”

“Yes. But part of me doesn’t want tomorrow to come.” Khadgar admitted, starting to take off his clothing again. “I don’t want to deal with explaining how Argus is now next door, or wording it in a way that doesn’t scare everyone else witless, or our next move or-”

“Shh.” Draggka pressed her finger over his lips. “No more talkin’ about work tonight. Worry about it tomorrow. Tonight, we be resting as best we can.”

“Yes. Yes I suppose so.” Khadgar nodded.

They readied themselves for bed in silence, Draggka sighing in relief to get out of her bra and into the sleeping shirt Khadgar had ‘provided’ for her several weeks back. He’d worried that if an emergency occurred, she’d just sprint into action in just her underwear, and he’d felt better if she wore something on her upper half. Even if it was an old shirt of his and would no doubt raise questions in the aftermath.

The thought did raise a smile as she slid under the covers, more so when she felt the archmage’s arms wrap themselves around her, his large, soft body nestling close to hers.

“Draggka?"

“Yeah?” She turned to look him in the eye, barely seen in the gloom of his quarters.

“I don’t know how I’d keep going through all of this if it weren’t for you.” He murmured. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Khadgar.” Draggka leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips. “No matter what be happenin’ next, I be here for ya."

Her heart fluttered to feel him smile against her pointed ear, and more when he whispered to her:

“Lok’tar ogar, my darling.”

[swfanficbyjz]

SW AU - Fate of the Master Chapter 19

<- Previous Chapter

The twins disappeared into bunks to go back to sleep since they'd all been up most of the night. Ahsoka primed the engines and once out of the atmosphere, set the nav computer to make the first of three jumps. Once in hyperspace the ship was pretty much on auto pilot and they had time to focus on other things.

"Thank you," Anakin said, from the co-pilot seat.

"You're welcome." She replied simply. She didn't say anything else. She preferred to let him decide whether or not he was ready to talk about something. He'd always been that way. Though back when he was her master, there were a lot of things that just went unsaid. It was a shame how little he'd felt like he could share. She understood much of what he never said aloud. She could feel them. He'd always felt things more deeply than anyone else she had spent time with. At first it had overwhelmed her, because she hadn't been prepared for that kind of intensity; emotions and feelings pouring off him in waves. It was truly amazing that he hid anything from anyone considering how easy it was to read him. But she supposed everyone else had had too many other things to worry about than what he was feeling at any given time. Not her, however. She'd had studies to attend to and trying not to die or get him killed, but her world pretty much had revolved around him. So naturally, his mental state was very important to her.

Because of all the Jedi rules of attachment, they'd been forced to learn to communicate the 'forbidden' stuff through the force. The other masters always frowned at outward displays of affection or concern. It was never really appropriate in the middle of missions or battles to ask each other if they were okay. But a lot of that was also saving face in front of the clones. You can't be a good leader if the people under you think you can't handle it. For those reasons, the true depth of their relationship and bond came out during their meditation sessions. They'd get together in a quiet room to meditate and talk about the day. It had always been one of her favorite things. She had looked forward to it every time.

It was the only opportunity she really had to understand him. Even though he didn't like to talk about himself, he didn't try very hard to restrain himself around her either. And even though he was, in many ways, the total opposite of what she'd been taught to be, she never really minded. He was a warmer person than the rest of the Jedi, and she'd clung to him. Not because she couldn't survive without him but because she didn't want to be anywhere else. He let her be herself, and she let him be himself, and because of that, they were able to have a really deep friendship. Yet another thing for the Jedi to frown on.

But for all their snobbery, they were not so perfect either. Master Kenobi, who touted constantly the importance of not having attachments, was just as attached to people as her and Anakin had been. And for all his expressed displeasure at outward shows of affection, she could feel the unrestrained joy that came from him whenever anyone showed him love. Other Jedi, like Taria had been more affectionate. And no one had criticized her for it. Master Plo had been the father figure to many younglings and even his clone troopers. So they'd always seemed to be particularly hard on Anakin. And in many ways, their fear of him is ultimately what drove him to turn on them. It didn't excuse what he had done, but it did explain it. If they'd been warmer to him like he had been to her, he might not have been so inclined to distrust them when chancellor Palpatine made his final play to win him over. It never ceased to amaze her what a little love could do.

Anakin had his head resting back against the chair. Since they'd taken the suit off him, his skin had become much less pale. He still had ugly scars across his body and head but otherwise he was starting to look like a healthy human again; even those were beginning to heal some. It was less obvious that he had mechanical legs, they worked like real ones and he wore long pants with boots over them. He wore long sleeves on the top, but didn't glove his hands like he used to. Though he'd said the main reason he'd done that was to hold onto the lightsaber better. His tunic went up around his neck to his chin where there were a couple buttons. It had been strange getting used to seeing him without hair, he'd always had pretty long hair since she'd known him. But whatever had caused the bad burns had apparently singed his scalp so bad it wouldn't regrow without help.

"Obi wan," he said.

"What?" She asked.

"Obi wan did this. Not Sidious." He replied.

"Oh..." was all she could say in response. She'd been wondering for awhile now what had gotten him into such an awful physical state, and now she knew. She never would have guessed it. Now she felt foolish for telling him back on Bail's ship that Obi wan had loved him. She wanted so badly to ask how it had come to that, but she didn't dare. It was probably another one of those things that would come out eventually. She was surprised at how calmly he'd said it though, as if losing all your limbs and nearly being burned to death, especially by someone you loved, was perfectly normal.

"Don't hate him for it like I did." He murmured. He sounded so tired.

–-

They came out of hyperspace near Ilum, seven days after leaving Naboo. It had been a long and tiring trip for everyone, but at least they were all still getting along. The akul was the most unhappy, they'd had very few chances to let it out to hunt and stretch its legs. And now they were about to land on an ice planet with a climate very different from Shili. She'd thought about stopping there on the way to let it off, but they needed to keep moving as much as possible.

Just as Ahsoka had planned, the ghost crew appeared about an hour after they did. Ilum was a sacred planet to the Jedi; home of the majority of the kyber crystals. But the empire had been strip mining the planet for years, and with the Jedi order in tatters, no one had the need to fight for it. She'd asked Hera and Kanan to meet them there to keep the empire occupied while they went down to the surface. She had no more need for kyber crystals, but she believed it was time for the three Skywalkers to get theirs. Anakin had two lightsabers out there already, but both had been left on the millennium falcon when she'd rescued them off that imperial ship. So she wasn't sure if he'd find another here. Luke and Leia deserved to have their own.

After leaving Naboo, they'd both expressed interest in more training in the force and so most of the trip had been spent with Anakin and Ahsoka taking turns teaching them. Luke was doing incredibly well. Leia was struggling because she had a hard time letting go and trusting the force. Bail had done a good job of teaching her self confidence and intention, but she struggled with faith in bigger things and other people. Ahsoka often found Luke coaching her later when they'd finished official training for the day. He seemed to be having a better time getting through to her. Or perhaps she simply trusted him more.

Ahsoka usually didn't wonder how others experienced the force, but she had found herself imagining what kind of trials each of them would face in the Jedi temple. She was certain that Leia's would involve both trust, and overcoming her preconceived notions about her father. Luke's would probably be confidence and patience. And Anakin, if tested... would probably be the hardest of all, because he had the most demons to face. His attitude about everything he went through; his downfall, the broken relationships, the guilt and even his kids, had slowly been shifting. She still felt him freeze in response to certain memories, but overall he'd been slowly opening up and recognize that even though they may have been terrible, it wasn't too late to learn from them. She was incredibly proud of his progress, she knew it wasn't easy. He'd told her at one point that it felt like the bandages were being ripped off but there was less and less blood. She had been pleased to hear that.

The ghost went to work distracting the ships orbiting the planet after a quick holoconference. She'd told them to keep them busy long enough to mask their signal and land, then they were to jump out of there and wait until they were ready to leave. The plan had worked surprisingly well, and their ship managed to land on the surface without being detected. The Jedi temple had been the first place the empire had stripped, so there were no longer troops in its vicinity. There was still a chance they could find crystals here because they sometimes manifested by the will of the force. Only those they call to, can find them. So the empire could only take the few that didn't have all the qualities that make them perfect lightsaber crystals.

They all dressed up in warmer clothes and she led the way to the ice covered entrance of the temple. Anakin let her prepare them for their journey and after using the force to move the mirror so the sun would melt the door, she sent them all on their way. They had twelve hours to pass their trials, find their crystals and exit the temple, otherwise they'd be stuck in there for one rotation, which on Ilum was 28 days. Thousands of Jedi had managed this, she knew they would too. Anakin had done it once, she had done it twice.

She knelt outside the entrance and began meditating.

–-

They all entered the caverns, but at the first crossroads they decided to split up.

"What are we looking for?" His sister asked.

"Nothing and everything," Their father replied.

"Seriously?" Leia asked. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"I can't tell you what you'll find, because I don't know. Jedi temples are tricky, they respond to each person's energy. All I can tell you is to trust yourself and you'll know it when you find it." He replied.

Luke saw Leia shake her head, then put up the hood of her coat and stroll confidently down the middle hallway. He exchanged glances with his father and then he took the left path and his father took the right.

He was walking for a long time before he heard his aunt's voice. "Luke? Luke!" It called, just like the hundreds of times before on Tatooine.

"I'm coming Aunt Beru!" He called jogging across the sand to the little hut they called home. But when he got there, the house was empty. "Aunt Beru? Uncle Owen?" He yelled. Where were they? He searched the hut again but didn't find them, so he started scouring the rest of the property. Nothing. Not even a sign of them. Nothing was out of place, they were just gone. But if they weren't here, how had she called to him? He yelled for them again, but got no answer. So he shrugged and went back inside.

He said hello to his father in the workshop as he passed through and then found his mother in the kitchen cooking. He kissed her on the cheek and rolled up his sleeves to help. He listened to her talk about their shopping trip to Anchorhead. She told the best stories. "Where's Leia?" He asked.

"She went to get something out of the barn, she'll be back in a moment." His mother replied. Then she shooed him off to set the table.

"Ani, please!" He heard his mom cry desperately and he spun around. His father was manipulating the force so she couldn't breathe.

"Stop!" He yelled and ran forward. "What are you doing? Stop!" He begged. His father let go but his mom crumpled to the ground. "Why would you do that?" He demanded.

"She doesn't love me!" His father yelled. "She never has! You turned her against me!"

"What?" Luke was confused, but ran to his mother's side. She was still alive, just unconscious.

"You did that yourself!" Came another voice from behind him. It was old Ben! Except... he looked younger. And sad.

"What's going on?" Luke asked, he was terrified. But the specters ignored him.

"I hate you!" He heard his father scream. He was on fire, precariously close to sliding into the river of lava below. He was missing all his limbs except for one robotic arm.

"You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you!" Ben said and then turned his back to walk away. Luke heard his father wail behind him as the flames consumed him. He covered his eyes, he couldn't watch.

When he looked up again, he saw his father struggling to be breathe. He was badly burned, he had to be in terrible pain. He just laid there in the ash, staring at the sky. Luke rushed to his side. "Father?" He asked. His father's face turned slowly in his direction, yellow eyes unfocused, jaw set to overcome the pain.

"Vader." A cloaked figure approached. The stranger stood over him, Luke could tell he was weighing options. This must be the emperor; and he appeared to be deciding whether or not to save his father.

"You must save him! Please!" Luke begged him. The figure didn't answer.

"You've only been my apprentice for a short time, and you've already failed me." The figure said. "I needed you to stand by my side as the Jedi that remained loyal to the Republic in the face of the others who betrayed me."

"Master," Anakin choked out, "please save me. Let me... let me save my wife! And our child!" He coughed, convulsing. He was dying. The cloaked figure paced back and forth. "Please..." he croaked. "I will do whatever you ask." The emperor seemed to come to a decision and summoned some droids to help carry his father away.

Luke watched them go, knees in the ash. The scene around him changed.

"Lost, your father was." Came an old voice behind him.

"Who are you?" Luke asked the little green creature that had appeared.

"A master I once was. Old I now am."

"You were a Jedi?"

"Yes." The creature replied. "What are you?"

"I want to be a Jedi too. Like my father before me."

"Fear I sense in you. Your father had it too. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering."

"Is that what happened to him?"

"Let go, he could not. Used against him, it was."

"You said he was lost... but maybe he wasn't! Maybe you were the one that gave up on him! You and Ben! Why didn't you help him? Why didn't you help my mother?" Luke demanded.

"Know, we did not." The creature replied.

"You had to know! Jedi know everything! They can feel things, sense them! That's how I knew my sister was in trouble!"

"Clouded, the force was. See things clearly, we could not."

Luke barely stopped himself before he said something mean. He wasn't convinced. How could the force be clouded? How could they not see something right in front of them?

"If a Jedi, you wish to be, patience you must have. Choose which side, you must." The green creature then disappeared.

He reached over and touched his mechanical arm. "I may never understand what happened to you, father. But I will love you anyways." He said aloud in the empty room. "We might never get to be a normal family, like I always hoped, but I won't leave you."

Luke heard a song coming from the tunnel to his right. He felt compelled to follow it.

–-

As Leia explored the icy caverns, she started getting more and more nervous. She'd heard about the Jedi growing up, though Senator Organa had been careful how much he said because of how dangerous it was to be one. She'd always been able to do things others couldn't, but she'd never expected to be one. After a week of training and extra sessions with Luke, it was clear she was. But she'd always been taught to think on her feet. To focus more on quick wit and negotiations than to fight or trust her instincts. Her adoptive father had taught her how to handle a blaster, so she found the lightsaber unwieldy. Ahsoka had said that when they each get their own it would feel like an extension of your own arm.

What she didn't understand was why peacekeepers even needed to carry weapons. Or more than that, why they were destined to have them. A crystal just calls to you? So you can be granted one of the most powerful weapons? But then once you get it, you're not really supposed to use it? And the force, same thing. It's this powerful entity that binds all living things but it too can be used for attack and destruction. She didn't know a lot about Jedi philosophy, but it seemed kind of twisted to her. Especially why so much of being a Jedi seemed to revolve around a weapon. “This weapon is your life,” her father had said to her.

Was it the power of the weapon that corrupted Jedi, like her father? She understood that her father had deeply loved her mother, and that that was the reason he fell to the dark side. But she hadn't had an acceptable explanation as to how the dark side could completely change you from hero to villain. How could it completely erase your personality, your ideals and your morals? In her opinion, none of those could have been that strong if it was so easy to twist you. Part of her wanted to forgive her father for the mistakes he'd made, but she had grown up seeing the damage and destruction he created and caused. Why should she love him after all of that? Why did anyone think he deserved it? She may be his child by blood, but as far as she was concerned, she wasn't going to be anything like him. If she became a Jedi too, would she be tempted by the dark side? Would she fall too? How did she know he wasn't already brainwashing them?

And where did Ahsoka fit into all of this? Luke had told her that their father had been her master. Did that make her evil too? Senator Organa seemed to trust her, but was it safe to? She was definitely in love with her father. That had been easy to discern. She'd also discovered that Ahsoka had left the Jedi order of her own accord, before their fall. It seemed suspicious to her. She just happened to not be around when Vader slaughtered all of them. Perhaps he'd planned it that way. Perhaps he'd spared her as a tool to use later to convince everyone else he was good again.

But he wasn't! Not really. He cut off Luke's arm! And even though her brother claimed it had been an accident, she didn't buy it one bit.

Her head was spinning as she wandered the icy temple. This is stupid! They'd given her no idea what she was supposed to even be looking for; all she was managing to do was get lost.

"Leia!" She snapped to attention at the sound of her brother's voice. "Help me! Leia! Help!"

"Where are you? I'm coming!" She cried out, sliding a little as she burst into a run. Her heart was racing as she frantically followed the voice. It seemed to be moving too. What would she find when she caught up to it? She knew her father couldn't be trusted! She heard malicious laughter echo around the chambers. Luke's cries were getting more and more painful.

After running around in what seemed like circles for a long time she paused to take a breath. "I can't find you!" She wailed. But the place had gone silent. "Luke!" She called out, but there was no response. Was she too late?

"Why do you hate me so much?" Came a raspy voice behind her. She spun around, losing her footing and falling to the ground. She tried not to tremble as the towering figure of Darth Vader stood over her.

"Because you're a monster!" She spat back at him. "And monsters don't deserve love!"

"Not even if that monster is your father?" The voice wheezed in response and stepped towards her. She stumbled backwards into the wall.

"You may be my father by blood, but you will never be by title!" She reached for a rock to throw at him.

He reached up to take off the helmet, underneath was a handsome face. Nothing like what he'd been like before. He had long honey colored curls. He smiled at her, one scar down his right eye. "Do I look like a monster to you?" He asked.

She hesitated. It wasn't possible. It had to be a trick. She looked up into his soft blue eyes. Was this the person he'd once been? It surprised her to realize he was no longer wearing the evil black suit, but rather a long maroon robe with matching leggings and a dark leather sash over each shoulder, a belt around his thin waist, and shoulder and neck guards. He reached a gloved hand down to her to help her up.

"You look just like your mother," he whispered proudly. "She was my whole world. The light in the darkness. I wish you could have known her."

She pressed herself further back. She wasn't going to fall for it. She couldn't look at him and think all was right with the world! Even if he still looked like that. "You killed her!" She accused him, scrambling to her feet and running away before he could respond.

"I didn't! I would never!" She heard him say from behind her. But he didn't seem to be following her. She stopped after a few minutes to catch her breath.

"Leia," she heard a softer female voice and looked up in surprise. It was her mother, it had to be. She was beautiful. She had long curly brown hair, and pretty brown eyes. She was wearing a very elegant dress, that wasn't real appropriate for the temperature.

"You're dead!" She said, her head spinning. "You're not real, you can't be!"

"I'm one with the force," her mother replied, kneeling in front of where she fell. "But I still live in you. I still live in your brother and your father and my friends." Leia started crying as she looked up at her mother. Padmé reached her hand out to wipe the tears from her face. "Do not be afraid, my child." She whispered, her voice was musical. Leia threw her arms around her mother and sobbed. Padmé patted her head and then held her tightly.

"What am I supposed to do?" She cried.

"Give him another chance. There's still good in him." Her mother replied comfortingly.

"But how? He's done terrible things!" Leia wailed.

"Perhaps, but if we withhold our love, we're no better than them." her mother said.

Leia looked up only to find that she was clinging to her father as he looked now. Her instinct was to pull away, but instead, she buried her face in his chest and wept. He held her close.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, hiccuping slightly as she tried to calm herself down. He squeezed her reassuringly on the shoulder but said nothing. Once she managed to control her sobs, she sat back and looked up at him. She could see the man he'd once been as if it shined out from inside. "I don't hate you," she said. "I'm just scared."

He tilted his head to the side just a little, reminding her of the akul, "of me or becoming like me?" He asked quietly.

"I don't know," she said, looking down. "Maybe, both." A glint caught her eye and she glanced up. He was gone, but where'd he'd been sitting was a little crystal. It hummed and she reached for it. In her hand it felt warm. She could feel the energy radiate from it and it felt as though it was meant just for her.

"Only you can decide what you become." She heard him say in the air around her. She stood up feeling calmer. For the first time, she let herself relax and trust her instincts.

–-

Anakin came to a big open room and decided to sit down and meditate. Ahsoka had been insistent that he needed to go in too, but he hardly felt worthy of not only a third crystal, but also of being a Jedi again. He was beginning to understand that many of the things he’d blamed on them were not really their fault. It was things like the holonet news and traveler’s tales that make you believe Jedi are invincible and can do no wrong, until suddenly they can. Or you become one and discover it’s nothing like what you imagined. He had long believed that the Jedi purposely chose not to end conflicts because their ideals would get in the way of victory. As a strategist himself, it was why he’d come to admire people like Grand Moff Tarkin. But now being on the other side of what he helped create, he could see the Republic as the people had once seen it; flawed and greedy and not caring about the individuals of the galaxy or planets with no strategic value. He’d often been furious with the Jedi for refusing to act to stop horrible tragedies or to end slavery, when in reality, they were beholden to the senate. It was the senate that refused to act. And it still refuses to this day. The few good senators could not outweigh the ones that were in it for their own gains. Often leading business to a stand still and prolonging the war.

When he’d found out that Chancellor Palpatine had been manipulating both sides of the war and that he’d had his hand in everything, he began to see how useless democracy really was. If one person, Sith or not, could make both sides do whatever he desired simply by pulling the right strings, the will of the people would never prevail. And as much as he was ashamed to admit it, he’d truly felt it was better that way. Now that he’d looked in the eyes of the rebels, the pirates, Ahsoka, and even his children, he could finally see that a life that was dictated was not worth living. That true peace may never be an actual possibility, but maybe there was meant to be a certain amount of chaos. And that all you could do was find your place in it and try not to make it worse for people.

Padmé had believed wholeheartedly in democracy. She’d sacrificed so much for it. She’d fought for it every day of her life. And he’d admired her resolve, believing that he was fighting for the same thing, when in reality, he’d been fighting for the person that had undermined it all.

“I’m so sorry Padmé,” he whispered to the empty chamber. “I was blinded by my passion, I couldn’t see what was really going on.”

“How long are you going to keep making excuses?” he looked up to see Ahsoka standing there.

“Ahsoka? I thought you were waiting outside.” He replied.

“Where are Luke and Leia? I can’t find any sign of them. I was worried so I came looking for them.” She said, looking around nervously. “I can’t even feel them.”

He stood up quickly and closed his eyes reaching out his senses. He couldn’t feel them either. Panic rose up in his throat. “We split up shortly after coming in the temple. They might have run into trouble. Come on, we need to find them!” he started running down a hallway, Ahsoka on his heels.

“Anakin, wait!” Ahsoka called up from behind. He skidded to a stop, heart racing. “I think I hear something! This way!” she turned and ran down a passage to the left. He backtracked the short distance to follow her. But she was gone.

“Ahsoka?” he yelled. There was no response. He heard someone fighting and he followed the sound. He came into a small room just in time to see her thrown into a protruding icicle, impaling her. “No!” he screamed trying to run to her. He barely made three steps towards her before he went flying backwards himself.

“Anakin…” he heard her cough weakly. “I.. I… love…” and then she fell silent. He was on his feet again reaching for his lightsaber. But even if he’d had it, there was nothing there to fight. Just her limp body stuck where she’d been thrown. Tears streamed down his face and he ran to her side, carefully pulling her off so he could hold her. She was gone.

“Why?!” he screamed at the universe. He slowly became aware of bodies all around him. He was afraid to look. Even with his eyes shut, he could feel them. He knew who they were. His mother, Padmé, Luke, Leia, Obi wan, Qui-Gon, Rex… and everyone else he’s ever loved. He sobbed. “No…” he cried, his own voice fading in despair.

“You did this.” He heard Darth Sidious hiss from behind him. “Their blood is on your hands! All that you’ve fought for has fallen. And now it’s your turn! Fight me!”

Anakin gently set Ahsoka’s body to the side, closing her eyes with his hands. He stood up, looking around at all the death. His heart ached like he had never known. Seeing Padmé’s lifeless body. Obi wan’s… the twins… he wanted to be angry, but he couldn’t. There was nothing left to be angry about. He slowly turned to face Sidious.

“Fight me!” his cloaked master yelled again.

“No.” Anakin said.

“Then you will join them in the afterlife.” Sidious ranted.

Anakin knelt down again and closed his eyes in meditation. “I’ve spent my entire life afraid. Afraid to let go, afraid to fail, afraid to disappoint. But I was never afraid to die. I was afraid to live. Afraid to live without all the people that mattered to me. I see now that people you love will die. People you love will suffer. People you love will leave. And life goes on. There are still things worth fighting for, even if they’re not there anymore. And fight for those things, I will.” Sidious raised his lightsaber as Anakin looked up at him defiantly. He didn’t even flinch as the weapon passed through him.

–-

Ahsoka stood outside the temple with Luke, watching as the door continued to slowly freeze close. Time was running out but Luke was the only one that had returned. She had to practically restrain him so that he wouldn’t run back inside after his sister and Anakin.

“You have to have patience.” She said for at least the hundredth time.

“But what if they need help?” he whined. “I don’t like just standing around doing nothing.” She shook her head. He was just like his father; always on the move. She’d been like that once too. But years of being on the run had taught her how to slow down and not jump into everything she came across. It had been hard to adjust, but necessary. Now when she had to fight, she could do it calmly and deliberately.

“The only thing dangerous in there is your own fears.” She said trying to calm him down. “This is something they have to complete. It’s admirable to want to help, but it’s their trial. Have faith in them.” She’d been helping younglings complete the trials for years. But even she had to admit this was the hardest one to wait for. She hadn’t been surprised Luke had returned first. He was the one most open and eager to learn and the most driven to exemplify what it meant to be a Jedi. Leia had so many doubts. Understandable really. Even though Senator Organa had been a friend of the Jedi order, he probably didn’t know enough about how it all worked or what the younglings were actually taught to give her any kind of real answers as to what they did and what they believed. And to be fair, neither she nor Anakin had really taught either of them much about Jedi philosophy. Just different forms of lightsaber techniques and how to use the force. They were hoping to leave the how to be a Jedi stuff to Obi wan. Especially if they did help bring the order back to life.

When the door was about a foot off the ground, Leia slid out underneath it. Luke finally breathed a sigh of relief. As they compared notes about their adventures, Ahsoka watched the entrance anxiously. She was worried about Anakin. He had so many demons. So much pain. No trial would be easy on him. Would he give in to his anger? Would he lose sight of reality as the visions overwhelmed him? Would he be strong enough in who he was capable of being?

The three of them held their breath in silence as the last few inches of the door closed with no sign of him. She could feel Luke and Leia’s sadness. Whatever had happened to them in there had changed their attitude about their father. But did it even matter now?

She felt a tickle of awareness and force shielded them just as the ice over the entrance shattered. Anakin walked out tall and confident. She released after the shards fell around them and looked up at him. He smiled at each of them. He was radiating love. She was impressed. She returned the smile. With his long arms he swept them all into a group hug. The twins had tensed in surprise but then relaxed into him and hugged him back. Ahsoka snuck a kiss on his cheek over their heads, hoping they hadn’t seen.

“Whatever the future holds,” he said at last. “We’re a family, in every sense of the word. Come what may.” He let them go. “Now show me your crystals.” They each held out a gloved hand with their crystals, he extended his as well.

“Today,” Ahsoka said, “you have completed the gathering. You have each learned a valuable lesson that will help you find your way. Remember it and let it guide you as you decide your paths. Whatever they be, may the light guide you and the force be with you.”

Next Chapter ->

[thesportinglife]

07/29/2017 UFC 214: Jon Jones vs Daniel Cormier 2

UFC, in my eyes, was on a downward trend. To some, that may sound a bit harsh and maybe they’re right. But, comparing the PPV’s and viewership of 2016 to 2017; my argument makes sense. In 2016, I attended 196, FN 90, TUF 23 finale, 200, 202, 205, & UFC on FOX 22 in a span of 9 months. In 2017, my first event is in July and by this time last year, I had four events underneath my belt. It was easy for me to watch the almost weekley events and keep up with news. Part of me was starting to realize what the UFC has been trying to sell and how they’ve been going about it’s business. All the talk at the moment is Mayweather vs McGregor, but can we get some love for the other fighters? I started to believe I wouldn’t attend a UFC event in 2017. And that’s the moment you heard the news and rumors circulating. Jon Jones vs DC 2, Woodley vs Maia, Cyborg vs Anderson (later replaced by Tonya Evinger), Lawler vs Cowboy, and the list continued. UFC 214 turned into a “must attend” event in front of my eyes. Since the PPV was being held at the Honda Center in Anaheim, I decided to make it a day trip just like my last event. I’m use to these day trips, but sometimes hate the fact that I’m even embarking on such a journey. What made this trip different from the other sporting events I’ve attended in Southern California is the fact I flew into the Long Beach airport. I’ve heard of the airport, but have never had the pleasure of visiting. My overall impression was that the size was similar to Burbank and reminded me of the airport in Dayton, Ohio. I can’t remember if the hotel offered a shuttle or if we decided on taking an Uber. Regardless, during a daycation you always elect for the fastest option; Uber it is! Arriving at the hotel and checking-in, the room was available. It’s always a blessing when early check-in is possible. There’s no bigger buzz kill besides having no room at all. WIth some time to kill and knowing myself, I recommend the liquor store being the first stop. Whenever I travel south of Oakland, I expect heat and Anaheim was no different. Besides the beers, I grabbed two large jugs of water. I drink an abnormal amount of water, especially when I’m day drinking. I can for sure finish one before the event and have one for after to help with the loss of voice or the impending hangover. Getting back to the hotel, it was time to start drinking and head to the pool. Normally, I’d jump in but I was satisfied with sunbathing and chugging my michelada. When it became time to get ready, my focus shifted to the impending matches and title fights. I particularly had my sights set on Cyborg vs Evinger while the entire focus of the promotion was the return of Jon Jones and his attempt at reclaiming his life. Jones’ career has been filled with the highest of the high’s and the lowest of the low’s. During his absense, Daniel Cormier contiuned his reign, while retiring Rumble Johnson in the process. They were on a collision course, which was more climactic than their first encounter. Per usual, I arrived before the door’s opened and took the opportunity to check out the fanfest. I wasn’t expecting much and fortunatnely, I didn’t because I’m not into autographs, merchandise, or photo ops. I did go get a free Monster energy drink. Who doesn’t like free? Plus, it was warm and in mid-complaint the doors opened. Darting inside to seek air conditioning and my sourvenior shirt, I took the chance to explore the Honda Center. It’s also a major venue for concerts and the home of the Anaheim Ducks (Boo!) You could see the hommage to former players, coaches, and the Stanley Cup😒 When I purchased the tickets, I was a little nervous about sitting in the 400 sections. The great thing about hockey venues, like the Honda Center and the T-Mobile Arena, is that the entire bowl is shaped like an oval. It essentially guarentees a decent view from every seat. I was pleased with my view and it was aisle, which is a plus for me. A negative was the excessively long lines at concessions, but I did learn a trick from a very friendly and drunk local. Rather than just waiting in the regular line, each concession had an express window. Normally, theses venus do, but the Honda Center didn’t bother with signage. This insider trick helped me not only beat the intermission rush, but also ensure I do not miss a second of the action. I saw Ricardo Lamas’ absolute destroy Jason Knight in my seat. I witnessed Volkan Oezdemir silence the talks of a Jimi Manuwa vs David Haye in 40 seconds while eating fresh nachos. I slammed two beers and grabbed two more without missing Robbie Lawler and Donald Cerrone. The secret didn’t last long and by the Cris Cyborg vs Tonya Evinger, everyline was long. I wasn’t worried cause I still had another round of nachos & beer under my seat. If we’re talking P4P greatest, I have Cyborg in my top 5 and I’m not talking women only. Her only downfall is that she’s a featherweight and it’s taking longer than usual for the division to develop in the UFC. She had two catch-weight fights at 140, but the weight cut was too costly for her. Out of the blue, the UFC crowned Germaine de Randamie as the new featherweight champ after she defeated Holly Holm at 208. UFC stripped her of the title after she declined to face Cyborg at 214. Her entire career has been leading up to this moment and Evinger is a tough opponent. It surprised me that it lasted till the third round, which was ironically when Cyborg finished her to keep the TKO/KO streak alive. I went from riding on cloud 9 to crashing back down to earth. You could thank the sold-out crowd for that. In all honesty, I found the matchup between Tyron Woodley and Demain Maia as a very technical, yet entertaining fight. It reminded me of a great pitcher’s duel in professional baseball. But, the majority of the audience disagreed so much that they began chanting and heckling. “This is boring” and “buuuullshit” rained down on the octagon turning the atmosphere to one you’d see at a WWE event. Part of me was a little stunned, but not entirely surpried. When the fight was over, a few sarcastic cheers and boo’s drowned out Woodley’s post-fight speech after his unanimous decision win. The crowd settled down and was eager to see the rematch. Once again, I had a different opinion than most. I believe it was DC’s time to shine and Jones’ career hanged in the balance. It was an ugly and grueling fight for both fighters. Nothing but hard shots, knees, elbows, and clinching. In the 3rd round, Jones was able to see DC’s defense and set a trap. By fainting, Jones was able to get DC to ducked his head and that’s when the leg kick landed. DC was caught leaning the same direction the kick came from and it was all over. JOnes had him stunned and went for the kill. The referee had no other option than to stop the fight. While fans celebrated, I found myself wondering what does this mean for Cormier’s reign, will he retire, and what about a possible trilogy? I was deep into thought until Jone’s calls out Brock Lesnar. REALLY? That’s who you want? Well, the UFC is all about money fights and judging by the crowds reaction, Jones vs Lesnar is a big money fight. “I’ve become so numb, I can’t feel you there🎶” -Me singing along with Chester Bennington out of respect.

[pyre-prism]

LONG POST ‘CAUSE BIO!! (I’m still a n00b with tumblr formatting... halp...)

I finally got his details down in a way that I'm happy enough to share them. I do know that some of the stuff I've got with him may be a little... is it cliche? I don't really know and I don't particularly care. As it is, I like him as I've made him, but I'm more than willing to have discussions if anyone has an idea that may make things even better.

Critiques are welcome~!

~*~

Real Name – Lonán [approximately pronounced “loo-nan”]

Alias – ‘Cat-Eyes’

Age – Believed to be 500+ but he’s not sure

Birthday – September 22

Gender – Male

Species – Cursed ‘Human’/Cambion

Ethnicity – European

Place of Origin – Ireland

Languages Spoken – Irish Gaelic, English, and Latin, although he can puzzle his way through Italian, as well due to its lingering similarities to its parent language, and he can also apply this –to a lesser extent– to the other ‘romance languages’

Eyes – Usually light aquamarine but tend to become much more vivid when using his racial abilities, vertically-slit pupils, always has black marks akin to eyeliner all around the eye

Hair – Black, strip of red in the middle of his goatee (if he didn’t shave, he would also have patches of red on both cheeks just below the ridge of his cheekbones)

Skin – Pale, almost translucent

Build – Lean, almost perfectly-defined musculature for his build, extremely flexible, 6’0”

Typical Outfit – Lonán doesn’t like to weigh his body down with unnecessary cloth, and so tends to underdress. He’s usually found wearing the following ensemble: • Teal hooded zip-up sweatshirt with thumbholes in the cuffs of the slightly-elongated sleeves, frequently worn completely unzipped • Grey wifebeater shirt if it’s actually cold enough that most other people would wear two or three layers of clothing • Indigo sweatpants • Black thongs/flip-flops, which he has no particular care for whether he loses them or not as he actually prefers going barefoot

Personality – Usually fairly aloof and secretive, viciously vindictive, arrogant, driven, cunning and conniving, highly-curious, can be playful when in a good enough mood, ‘I meant to do that’, fickle, showy when he believes he has the time to be, will manipulate others until the cows come home (especially if it means he gets to keep his own hands clean), wants to ‘shape humanity up’ and gets increasingly frustrated when people seem to repeat old mistakes, becomes an absolute hot-head when he actually loses his temper, technically has a rather flexible personality so as to present the ‘correct version of himself’ to those he approaches, prone to snuggling if he gives in and gets a ‘sexy fix’ (once he wakes up again, he either leaves them or kills them)

Likes – Being warm, being touchy-feely with people, sleeping, learning and reading, dishes that involve rabbit meat, classical and folk music (it calms him down), snowflakes and ice crystals, watching fire

Dislikes – ‘Normal people’ (calls them ‘the unenlightened’), having to prove himself in any way, times when information is actively kept from him, music that relies on electronics to be able to be played ‘correctly’

Orientation – Bisexual, and bi-romantic… but he will have intermittent bouts of either particular leanings or ‘literally anything works’

Fears – Losing all complex thoughts and becoming nothing more than a beast, deep or rough water, drowning

Voice – Smooth, ‘svelte’, tends to be mildly amused and playful, gains a low and almost-constant growl or hiss when irritated or otherwise losing his cool

Strengths: • Stemming from his inhuman parentage, Lonán has the ability to hypnotise and ‘bewitch’ other people into doing his bidding. By using a particular tone of voice or by keeping their gaze on his eyes for long enough, he can begin to influence his targets to do almost anything he requests of them. Alongside this, he has phenomenal skill with words and mental manipulation, even without utilising this power.

• Also thanks to his parentage, he is capable of a form of mind-reading, with two distinct levels of potency. By simply being in the general area –within eyesight range– he can get a reasonably-clear impression of a person’s ‘self’ and the general style of their surface thoughts, but when he instigates some kind of skin-to-skin contact, he is actually able to read more clearly into their surface thoughts and even –to a much lesser degree– their memories.

• Lonán has the ability to replenish his energy reserves by absorbing sexual energy, whether directly or by ‘soaking in the atmosphere’ in a sexually-charged space. If he makes use of it, he can essentially live without ever resting.

• His body is extremely flexible, enabling him to manoeuvre himself through and into spaces that he doesn’t appear to be able to, according only to his size and stature.

• He was taught various magic spells and the like, which he could feasibly use to do any number of things that a more ‘normal’ individual could never dream of. Thanks to a tendency to improvise and improve upon what he actually does, this versatile set of potential capabilities has the chance to expand exponentially.

• Lonán regularly brews and drinks a potion that allows him to survive up to eight fatal injuries in quick succession. After beginning to use it, his nails became retractable cat-like claws and his eye-teeth both sharpened and lengthened.

Weaknesses: • For all of his innate skill with it, Lonán’s hypnotic power isn’t infallible. He cannot use it to make people completely bypass their moral code, not to mention the fact that some people are simply more resistant to being hypnotised –unlike ‘regular hypnosis’, however, he is able to affect anyone. The effects aren’t permanent, either, and the victim can be broken out of it by being knocked out… and some can even shake it off themselves, particularly in the appropriate circumstances as determined by the individual in question.

• Lonán can make various missteps with his choice of words and actions while trying to manipulate someone. If he makes a small mistake, he gets a bit flustered… which often leads into more and more being made as he gets more and more frustrated with himself.

• While ‘getting a basic read on someone’ is practically instinctual for him, it is more than possible for him to get even that wrong, let alone the more complex contact-based forms of reading people’s minds. Truthfully, he tries his hardest to avoid using it, and as such is very inexperienced in its use.

• Lonán’s hesitance to indulge in his hereditary nature doesn’t only leave him lacking in practice with his mind-reading, but also in ‘metabolising’ any sexual energy that he absorbs. Not processing it properly tends to wind up with him acting as if he was drunk or even high, along with all of the downsides of such states.

• A lot of what he was taught about magic has since been forgotten due to a lack of use upon learning about the more subtle technicalities regarding the potion. With how magic has changed in the eyes of the world, refreshing his memory is difficult at best and almost impossible at worst. With that being said, he still tries to recall what he learned; these almost invariably have unpredictable results, not all of which being remotely pleasant for him, let alone useful.

• Using the potion that he does has definite downsides to it, and he needs to drink some every couple of days to keep its effect from being interrupted. In the event of going through a period of time where he doesn’t take any, however, the withdrawal symptoms quickly rear their rather ugly heads; to begin with, his temper takes a definite turn for the worst, but then he starts to grow increasingly restless with no apparent method of easing it –aside from the potion itself. Once that has begun to sink in, Lonán’s demeanour and even his way of thinking turns into something more bestial, with the last symptoms that he’s ever experienced being the early stages of a physical transformation into some sort of monstrous feline biped. He has deduced that, should he ever allow these symptoms to progress any further than that, then it would become permanent. Unfortunately for him, each instance of withdrawal progresses at a quicker rate than the previous one, and he has even noticed some of these occasionally popping up when he loses his temper.

How They Can Die – Lonán is just as susceptible to injury and other forms of damage as any normal human, but his heritage has granted him an indefinite lifespan and the potion he takes has given him the ability to essentially ‘shrug off’ up to eight instances of ‘fatal damage’ in the –typically short– time between taking the potion.

Physiological Conditions – Withdrawal symptoms (intermittent and wildly-varying in effect)

Psychological Conditions – Nymphomania (barely ever fully indulges, but is incapable of completely neglecting his urges); Sociopathy; Antisocial Personality Disorder (to some degree)

Quotes – “You people never learn…” “This immortality thing… it’s very high-maintenance.”

Primary Reasons for Killing – Resources and Proving a Point

Weapon of Choice – Although Lonán possesses sharp claws, he prefers to restrict their use as much as he can. Instead, his favoured weapon –when he actually expects the potential of running into trouble– is a kopis ‘machete’, with a lancet for any more precise cuts for gathering ingredients.

Primary Targets – Those with seemingly-healthy bodies, regardless of age

Avoids Targeting – Anyone who is obviously-unwell, regardless of age

Preferred Method of Killing – Convincing the victim to attack either themselves or another victim by way of hypnotic suggestion, and if that fails then he will ultimately aim to knock them out and slice their throat open nearly to the point of decapitation. After the target is dead, he removes a number of body parts from the carcass, most of which are then either preserved in ethanol for later use or are quickly put into the next batch of his potion.

Details of the Potion – Crafted from a plethora of ingredients, ranging from a salad of mint and various other plants, to a black cat’s tail, paws, and ears, to human body parts. The ingredients used in the recipe that Lonán originally learned are the heart, lungs, liver, stomach, and both large and small intestines; he has, however, adapted the recipe over the years in an attempt to limit the symptoms of withdrawal and to increase the maximum gap between doses, and these newer components are the eyes, ears, tongue, and hands. Once properly brewed, it is strained and boiled once again, before he actually drinks it.

Taking ingredients from human bodies actually has a number of requirements that need to be met. For starters, it is best if he is able to take them from a willing victim, although knowing what they’re agreeing to is not necessary –he is able to twist the will of his victims using his hypnotic ability to make them more amenable to the possibility. Other than that, these body parts also need to be reasonably ‘fresh’ –with no more than a couple of days passing between being harvested and being ‘put into the pot’, unless he manages to preserve them; however, this does some strange things to the potion, in and of itself, due to the nature of the substances used to preserve body parts. Another detail that Lonán has to bear in mind is that no amount of ‘perfect preparation’ will make the batch succeed if he’s a complete stranger to the individual in question.

Despite what he believes it to be, the potion is not meant for inducing any form of ‘immortality’. It is meant to ascribe traits believed to belong to an animal to a person –in this case, the ‘nine lives’ folkloric property of cats is the primary focus, using black cats in particular due to their believed connections to not only witches and the fey but also to magic in general. Each time he takes a dose, these ‘nine lives’ are replenished, but it also further cements his reliance on it as well as his addiction to it.

Family – Lonán doesn’t know anything about any relatives he might have in the modern day, and he never particularly discusses the family that raised him. • Father – Asmodeus Both father and son barely know anything about each other, to the point that Lonán doesn’t even know for certain who his father even is –let alone anything about the ‘Lord of Lust’. It’s possible that, via Lonán’s occasional interactions with the ‘prime demonic real estate’ that is Lucy Blumenthal, Asmodeus may come to actually meet his son at some point in the future.

• Mother – [Unknown, deceased] She met Asmodeus while she was running away from her family and the makings of an arranged marriage, and saw the demon as a way of escaping her parents’ plans. However, he left shortly after impregnating her (unknowing of the actual success of the act). She found a couple who owned an inn in the next township over, and was given a place to stay in return for working for them. Lonán’s mother took care of him there for the first two years of his life, before dumping him in the care of the innkeeper and his wife and disappearing.

• Adopted Family – Paidin and Elyn O Cleirigh [deceased] Until they met Lonán’s mother, nothing of particular interest had happened in their lives. Elyn took pity on the pregnant woman when she showed up on their doorstep, and Paidin readily offered her a job at their inn. When Lonán was two years old, his mother disappeared from the inn and never returned, leaving the child entirely in the care of the couple who had effectively become his godparents.

Being left to care for him, however, was something they came to resent to some degree, especially considering the boy’s strange traits which became more obvious as he grew older. Once Paidin deemed him to be old enough, Lonán was given various chores around the inn; he particularly took to kitchen tasks and to chores in the stables, although he also had a knack for convincing customers to stay another night or to order more expensive food and drink.

During his childhood, Lonán cared a lot about them both, but as he grew into adolescence, this started to twist into a form of grudging resentment regarding their hesitance to talk about his birth-family beyond ‘his mother left him in their care’.

• Other Family – …Various… It’s practically a given that he has at least some half-siblings, courtesy of his father’s activities, just as there is a definite possibility of some other relatives on his mother’s side surviving to the modern-day.

Friendly Interactions – Lucy Blumenthal/Ghostly Ripper (reasonably friendly) [OC]

Neutral Interactions – Generally neutral and even aloof to everyone and everything, with one clear distinction…

Antagonistic Interactions – Lucy’s demonic passengers (especially his former teacher), and then there’s normal people –the ‘unenlightened’– who he almost always treats with either cold aloofness or outright hostility

History – Before Lonán was even born, his life had already been derailed from the norm for the time and place. His mother –whose name he still doesn’t know– had run away from her family, seeking ‘true love’ instead of the arranged marriage that her father expected her to go along with. Two weeks into her escape, she met a foreign man who she fell in love with. Unbeknownst to her, however, this man was the current host of a demon by the name of Asmodeus –all he was after was a fleeting sexual ‘fix’… and he left her after a few months once he’d had his fill.

Lonán’s mother took another month to realise that she was pregnant and that’s when she started to panic. With winter already on the doorstep, finding somewhere that she could live in safety was her first priority, but she was terrified of returning to her family –pregnant and unmarried– but she also knew that almost no-one would marry a woman who was already carrying a child.

When she reached the next town along the vague path through the country that she’d been following, she was able to get a room at the inn for a week. The innkeeper’s wife noticed her growing belly and darkening mood; after pressuring her for her story, Elyn set about persuading her husband to consider allowing her to stay for longer than she’s originally paid for. Paidin agreed to let her, for as long as she was willing to work at their inn.

This arrangement stayed in-place for months, and Lonán was even born in one of the inn’s rooms with Elyn acting as a midwife. In fact, the young mother stayed and worked at the inn until her son was two years old, at which point she left and never returned, leaving him behind. Initially, neither Paidin nor Elyn were sure what to do with the toddler, but having grown somewhat attached to him, they took Lonán in.

As he grew older, Paidin noticed that Lonán had an almost bewitching effect on their customers –he was somehow able to convince them to stay longer or to buy more expensive meals. However, despite that capability, when they started to get the boy to pitch in around the inn, he took especially to the kitchen and to the stables. In this manner, their lives were reasonably comfortable for years. Paidin and Elyn raised Lonán as if he was their own, and he loved them in return.

Not long after he turned 13, something happened which prompted Paidin to keep Lonán out of customer interactions. A family stayed at the O Cleirigh inn –father, mother, and two daughters– and upon seeing the young teen, they requested that Lonán be their primary service-provider during their stay; it wasn’t the first time that such a request had been made and so it was readily agreed to, especially with the additional money the father offered for the ‘privilege’. Things stayed normal for the first couple of days… the daughters seemed to be enamoured with him, and the father was particularly prone to calling on Lonán for the tiniest of tasks. On the fourth night, however, a series of screams woke the entire building.

The daughters had called for Lonán late that night, and each dragged him into their beds in quick succession. Trying to keep a sense of ‘professionalism’, not least of which being because of the sizeable profit the family’s stay presented, he rejected their blatant advances and attempted to leave. Their mother arrived upon hearing her daughter’s raised voices, followed shortly after by the father. Both daughters launched themselves at their mother, crying and accusing Lonán of trying to take advantage of them; while the mother was occupied with comforting the girls, their father turned his attention to the accused teen.

Lonán found himself being attacked by the man, eventually winding up pinned –bruised and bloodied– to the floor by the father’s full weight. It was when his clothes were being torn from his body that Lonán finally started to realise just how much trouble he was in. At that point, he began to struggle even more to escape, running more on instinct than coherent thought… Then, at long last, the father released him and stood, swaying on his feet for a few moments before attacking his own wife and daughters.

The resultant screaming brought both O Cleirighs, along with a number of the other guests, rushing into the room. The sight that greeted them was grisly; the father had practically mauled his family to death before apparently tearing his own throat out. Lonán had pressed himself into the corner furthest from the gore, but wasted no time in trying to bury himself into Elyn’s shocked but ready embrace.

Lonán never told anyone what happened, not even his adoptive parents, although the horrific event did significantly lessen the number of guests they received for another few years. In that time, Lonán was finally specifically told that he wasn’t actually related to the O Cleirighs by blood, leading him to ask question after question about his birth-family. By the time he had turned 17, he’d grown more than a little impatient with the lack of answers they gave him, and even somewhat resentful about the apparent secrecy –not realising that it was largely due to the fact that neither Paidin nor Elyn actually knew that much about his mother’s family… and nothing about his father.

One night, around a month after turning 18, he was woken by the sound of music in the nearby woods. Curious, he slipped out to investigate, eventually coming across a wealthy-looking man sitting on a fallen tree and playing a pipe. The man finished his song before urging Lonán to join him, introducing himself as Faolan.

They talked for a while, each trying to get a decent impression of the other’s nature, and Lonán was shocked to discover that the strange man was the easiest person to simply chat with that he’d ever met. In turn, Faolan –truly the current host of the demon named Belial– had noticed something ‘off’ about his young visitor that he wanted to investigate further. Eventually, talk turned to the teenager’s dreams for the future, and Lonán told his new friend something that he’d never brought up to anyone else; he wanted to change the world, to make it better than it currently was, but he had no idea as to how to acquire the power to do so.

This was the opening that Belial had been waiting for. He regaled Lonán with tales of influential and wealthy people who lived far longer than seemed natural, people who began life with nothing and ended it with everything… Unsurprisingly, the young man begged to learn more and Belial gleefully agreed. They sealed the agreement with a handshake, at which point the demon finally understood who and what Lonán was –a cambion child of the ‘Lord of Lust’, whom Belial had been in a steady disagreement with for years, making the boy a prime candidate for some good old-fashioned revenge.

Over the next several months, ‘Faolan’ taught his new student how to read and write, as well as basic mathematics. Once he was comfortable with what Lonán had learned –coupled with how ready he was to listen to the demon– he began to introduce the youngster to the topic of magic… a topic that the cambion took to like a fish to water. Another month was spent building up Lonán’s knowledge in the topic before Belial finally brought up the potion that he said was designed to grant immortality to whoever drank it. Feeling like he was finally getting to what he was truly after, Lonán dove headlong into this particular series of lessons without a second thought and, eventually, student and teacher brewed up a batch together –the fact that some of the ingredients had been procured from Paidin was something that Belial kept to himself, along with the truth of exactly what those particular body parts were from in the first place.

At that point, ‘Faolan’ left the town on what he described as ‘important business’, returning again a week later to see the result of his handiwork…

Lonán, having been deliberately kept in the dark about any side-effects of the potion, as well as the truth about some of the critical ingredients, was in the midst of his very first bout of withdrawal symptoms. Over the course of the week that Belial had been gone, Lonán had grown increasingly irritable and violent as the ‘beast-like nature’ the potion had imbued into him started to take hold. The inn was in shambles, the guests and their horses had either fled or died before they could, the few staff members had done the same… and Elyn –while trying to calm her adopted son down– had been killed.

Belial was delighted, and after securely tying his student up, brewed another batch of the potion and forced him to drink it. The next day, Lonán finally come down from the manic ‘high’ with no memory of what had truly transpired; this is when the demon finally told him everything –from the truth of the potion’s ingredients, to being a demon, to tricking him, to even the fact that Lonán himself was never entirely human to begin with. With that said and done, ‘Faolan’ vanished, leaving the teen to free himself and escape before anyone could pin the blame for the events on him.

The next primary note in Lonán’s history was much later. In an effort to try to find ways of altering the recipe of the potion that he was now functionally dependant on, he had managed to get work as an undertaker. However, not only did trying to use parts from the deceased not really work, but he was also discovered and run out of town for mutilating the bodies.

~*~

Story is on the back-burner for the time being, but I will write one for him.