#i am not engineered to survive in public light

[ilovemylawyer]

i think what is happening is people see the E rating and click for just that and then are offput but the weird bad sex. the sex is supposed to be weird and bad. it’s sex as murder. what i was trying to do with pt3 was to write doyoung’s death as sex. kind of. but it’s sex as murder. i don’t like spelling things out (i do sometimes but not here) but i just don’t know how clear my vision is. i am also just awful at writing sex scenes maybe that’s why. but the sex itself is not the important part and it isn’t meant to be hot or sexy like At All. i am facing difficulties.

[ladymacabrebeth]

8 Struggles of Being a Small Musician by Lady Macabre Beth

Going a bit off brand today, but I wanted to shed some light on some struggles I experience as a small/starting musician. This is not universal, but may apply to some who can relate and who are struggling, whether you’re a small musician, artist, business owner, etc. 

This isn’t a rant per se but something I need to get off my chest and bring awareness to. So most of you know me for my nom de plume, Lady Macabre Beth, here on Tumblr and I do appreciate you all for being so supportive and finding comfort with my random reflections about life and my yet to improve short horror stories. But apart from that, I am also a musician under a different name. I’m not gonna reveal what my musician name is—that’s another public persona I don’t wish to disclose here since I want to keep my identity strictly confidential. Anyhow, here are 8 struggles I face as a small musician:

1. Paying more for the production of my song but only getting less in return. Imagine, I spend about $250 for quality mixing & mastering, $179 for my album cover & visualizers, and around $50 for renting a recording studio. And guess how much I earn in return as a musician? For instance, I only have 2k streams on Spotify. Do you know how much I earn for 2k streams? $2 only. I’m not joking. That’s how bad it is. I’ll even show you a screenshot via DMs if you like. And that’s why being a musician isn’t my full-time job. I work an 8-5 corporate job on the side just to make ends meet and live a stable life.

2. You might be thinking—well, but to be an artist is to struggle and starve. No. I don’t buy into that BS. Sure, I get the whole struggling artist trope maybe when it comes to experiencing emotional pain and using that to fuel our art but definitely NOT the starving artist. I think that is so toxic and we should stop romanticizing it. We are humans—we need to eat and use that as fuel to become better artists and create. The more people push that artists should starve and struggle all the more reinforces the idea that artists aren’t deserving to be as respected as lawyers, doctors, engineers, and whatnot. It’s further pushing the agenda that being an artist is not a regular job and below what is considered a job in conventional standards. 

3. You might be thinking—well, why not ask your collaborators to mix & master, etc. your song for free? That’s not easy when the ones you’re collaborating with aren’t people you’re necessarily close with. Have you considered those who don’t have connections? Where else do they reach out? Of course, to strangers who have a price range. And sometimes, we spend because we want the best quality for our music and we pay because the people we’re collaborating with are artists that have families to feed to. But I guess the frustrating part here is that I pay more than what I get. That’s the painful truth that sends me into crippling depression, especially since I need to work a corporate job I’m not into.

4. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate my job per se. In fact, I’m grateful because that job feeds me, gives me a comfortable life, and afford luxuries, but it’s not my passion. Sure thing, the financial stability makes me happy, but it’s soul-sucking to repetitively do something you’re not passionate about and doesn’t suit your personality, but then you need to keep working because you haven’t made it as a musician. You need to sacrifice because you’re doing this for yourself to survive even if it’s so soul-sucking. 

5. You might be thinking—well then do some networking so you can collaborate with people who can work with you for free and endorse you. Another thing is that not all artists or musicians are good at networking. Some have crippling social anxiety. Truthfully, I may sound confident as I’m writing this, but I suffer from terrible social anxiety. I can fake my confidence irl—yes, but my social anxiety is so bad inside tbh. And the weird thing is that even if I’m so loud here on Tumblr, I don’t know how to network online either. I know what to say and start the convo, but in the long-term, I fail in sustaining relationships online and irl because I don’t want to sound ingenuine or as if I just need something from people. Another thing is that when I meet people online, I die to meet them in person and become part of my tribe only to find out they’re in the other side of the world. That part frustrates me because I hate video calls that feel fake. I’d rather meet people in person and form genuine connections and collaborate and be a pack of wolves that just vibes together and create music.

6. I have supportive friends, families, and strangers of course. I’m beyond grateful for them, but if I were to be honest with you, most of them are doing that to motivate you as a starting artist and musician. Some will genuinely love your music, but others don’t but I don’t blame them for it because everyone has their own cup of tea. So expect most of them to support you just to get motivated but if they don’t memorize the lyrics to your song, don’t get surprised. Not that I’m ungrateful. It’s just some brutally honest thing I want to share and of course, I don’t want to coerce my loved ones to share my music and be a solid fan. That’s up to them. I announce to them my latest work. Sure thing. But I don’t want to force people to appreciate something they don’t genuinely like. The right people will like it, and to have a few genuine ones that do appreciate it is worth it than millions who don’t really like it.

7. I’m not the best musician out there. I don’t have an extraordinary voice nor do I have Ariana Grande’s ability to belt. If I were to be truthful, I find myself to be a mediocre singer who can’t belt. I’m nothing special, but this is what I love doing. But what frustrates me the most is that I suck at what I love doing most. Of course, torturing myself with that thought is an excuse. The only way to get out of that mediocrity is of course to keep practicing to improve my singing voice, even though my pipes, vocal range, and style isn’t what most appreciate by conventional standards. 

8. I still have a long way to go and I won’t give up ‘til the day I die. I am in love with music and it’s always been the first love of my life. I’ll do whatever it takes to get where I want to be as a musician and inspire the world with my songs the way my random reflections and quotes are inspiring a multitude of you here on Tumblr. Even if it means to still work an 8-5 corporate job and sneak music during my free time for my sanity. 

Dang it sucks to be a small artist with no connections and building from scratch up. 

If you’ve reached this point, thanks for giving time to read my semi-rant. I hope it brought some awareness too about the struggles of some small musicians. I’m pretty sure this is not new to most of you but I find that it’s important to reiterate that the hierarchy in the music industry is no different from the exploitative one we face in our world. Bigger artists getting more revenue while those below continue to grind but get nothing much in return. The struggle is real. Anyhow, do feel free to DM me if you agree/disagree/if you have special insights about this. Would love to hear them!

xx

Lady Macabre Beth

[exploringmonsters]

the theory is:

a kinky dungeon crawler

moon shot for my current skill set which is a basic understanding of javascript and a bit of research into a few different IF engines

but

the game would be a dungeon crawler sort of set up where you wander around different rooms and there are different monsters

the combat is super simple - i'm imagining something more prose/text based than a fully animated engine

but each time you lose, you get fucked and each time you get fucked it adds to a variable that makes it harder to win next time. like the chance of making your attacks land is inversely correlated to how many times you've already been fucked

I've been looking at twine and inky but this would work better with a physical space - so probably Inform would be the best engine for it.

Maybe the inciting incident that the game starts from is some sort of aphrodisiac.

The goal is to make it to day light which will neutralize the effects.

So the endings range from getting to day light and surviving to getting fucked to death by something horrifying.

I am 10000% sure this has been done but so far most of my investigations into this medium have been on more public forums that aren't specifically porn hosts and I haven't actually played any porn games yet.

I should go looking for some specifically. I wonder if the national-net-nanny would let me just google that shit or if I'm going to need to dig hard on reddit.

I want to learn how to make interactive fiction.

Writing weird porn is the obvious way in. Like just write some weird porn to learn the engine and how to code shit.

I am way too analytical right now but I'll get there.

[juusauce]

The Day I Met You Ft. Oikawa Tooru

HISTORICAL AU

Disclaimer:

This is a fictional story. Names, characters, locations, and incidents are all made up by the author and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The mentioned characters are not mine, credits to Furudate Haruichi.

Oikawa was moving along the crowded street as the lights and music were dancing together. He holds onto the crumpled piece of paper that announces his impending conscription before the month ends. Because of his service in the military, his dream of becoming an engineer was destroyed since the war won't guarantee survival. As he busied himself looking for something, someone attracted his eye. He noticed a pretty girl wearing a red floral dress and a red ribbon as a headband. He assumed she was with her friends because she was happy and playing the piano. He was amazed by her music and...perhaps her beauty. She looked harmless, carefree, and gentle. When their eyes met, he felt a sudden unfamiliar emotion. He gulped. His heart began to beat faster when she gave him a timid smile.

He was sleepy when he arrived at the firm where he was working as an apprentice. He had a hard time falling asleep as he had been thinking about her the entire night. His head almost fell on the counter, but he suddenly woke up when he heard a lovely voice. He was startled by her unexpected appearance, which caused his eyes to widen. He was too nervous to speak, his palms were sweating, and he couldn't even smile. His heart raced when he saw her sweetest smile again.

Throughout the week, he couldn't take his smile off his lips. He believed that was their final encounter, but perhaps heaven wanted them to run into each other once more. They met in a dancing hall. He watched her playing the piano. He couldn't believe he had been in love with her from the moment he saw her. He plucked up the courage to ask her to dance. She laughed when she noticed his trembling hands. Shame caused heat to spread on his cheeks. He was fixated on her the entire time they were dancing. He thought he was the luckiest boy in the hall since he was dancing with the most attractive girl that night.

He wasn't expecting love to show up at the worst possible time. He would get ready for himself after this evening, as he would be sent into a perilous and unfamiliar place. Fear crept inside him, afraid to die. He had never before experienced fear until that moment. He was back in his reverie as she patted his shoulder. She asked him what his problem was since he looked so gloomy after they danced.

As the day goes by, the day of his conscription is drawing near. He was so uneasy and unsure of what would happen to him after being sent there. He missed her touch and her warmth. He wished he could stay by her side, but he had to go to the battleground.

He came to a halt when he heard someone sobbing. His eyes widen when he saw her crying in the middle of the street. It was a cold evening in December and the ground was covered with snow. She nearly slipped, but he caught her. When their gazes met, a flush spread across his cheeks, and his heart raced.

"Why you didn't tell me about the conscription?" She said sullenly. He looked away before telling her the reason.

"It has nothing to do with you-"

"Nothing to do with me?" Tears flowed from her eyes. She looked so mad. Mad at him. "How can you say that? Am I not important to you?"

"You are important to me," she whispered, too enough to hear.

His lips parted. He couldn't utter a word. He was surprised by what she said.

She tip-toed and kissed his cheek. The sudden touch of her lips made his heart race.

"By any chance, do you..," he looked into her eyes. "Do you like me?" he whispered.

He locked his gaze on hers. Their faces were about an inch apart. He was tempted to kiss her, but as he leaned closer, someone cleared their throat.

"Kids, stop kissing in public."

The flush over her cheeks was just too noticeable. He cleared his throat as they stepped back. They were filled with embarrassment. They continue to avoid eye contact and even physical contact.

She wanted to say good night to him, but the atmosphere was still too embarrassing. She bit her lower lip as she looked at him, but when their gazes met, she swiftly diverted her gaze.

He sighed, breaking the silence between them.

"I think,..." He wasn't sure what to say for he didn't want the night to end and he wished to spend more time with her. He'd probably miss her after this.

"I...I need to say good night,..my lady."

Part 2

Edited Note: Hello! I'm done with the part 2. Yay! Anyway, this was inspired by Julie Berry's Lovely War. Because this is a historical au, I have made some changes. I believe people in the nineteenth century were conservative, hence NO KISSES ON THE LIPS IN PUBLIC. Thank you for reading!

Ⓒjuusauce - do not copy, paste, or translate my works anywhere.

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 10: A Weapon

Warnings: injury, yearning, softness, violence. Karga bleeds a little. The child saves the day… as always lol

Author’s Note: We are over halfway! This experience has been incredible so far, and thank you for all the support!

(I can’t remember where I got this gif from so if it is yours please lmk so I can credit you!!)

The rest of that morning went surprisingly smoothly.

The blurrgs were placed in the Razor Crest’s cargo hold and the three of you were now preparing to meet Karga.

From what you had gathered, he seemed very untrustworthy. To be fair, you would see yourself as pretty untrustworthy if you were looking from an outside perspective, so you were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Just protect and survive. That’s the only way you can prove yourself to Mando and Cara.

Cara, Kuiil, and IG-11 (who Mando surprisingly didn’t kill overnight) were all settled in the ship with the blurrgs.

You put out the fire from breakfast earlier and were getting the child settled in his pram, when you saw Mando walking towards you in your peripheral vision.

Is he holding… a weapon?

He walks to you and hands you what looks like a big stick with a pointy end. You hold it in your dominant hand, standing awkwardly with a curious look on your face.

“This is a longspear,” Mando says. “I tried to find something with a structure you would be familiar with to protect yourself, but I don’t really have anything like yours,” he says, referring to your lightsaber.

“This is the best I have,” he says, and he begins to walk away.

Where do you even begin? Mando handed you a weapon, hours after finding out you had been lying to him for weeks. Hours after finding out you aided in destroying the galaxy. Hours after learning you could have been feeding his information to the Empire this whole time.

For all he knew, you could plan to stab him in the back (literally) as soon as you had the right moment too.

You feel yourself choking up again.

I am so sick of crying over this man, you think to yourself. And he hasn’t even made me sad cry!!

“Mando,” you say, which causes him to stop in his tracks.

He turns to look at you, and you wish you could express your gratitude in any other way than stupid words. They are never enough.

“Thank you. I will use this with honor,” you say. “And I will not let you down.”

You try to steady your breathing, because you honestly feel lightheaded. You hope he responds with something. It doesn’t really matter though, he has already proven he trusts you. If you’re being honest with yourself, you just like hearing his voice.

“I know,” he says, and you hope you have as much confidence in yourself as he does.

He has given so much to you. Now, it was your turn.

~~*~~

The journey to Karga from Kuiil’s home planet wasn’t long, but it just felt tense.

You tried to give Cara as much space as possible. She deserves her boundaries. You had hurt her enough. She probably feels like she’s been betrayed by two friends today.

When you finally make it to Greef, he has a trio of bounty hunters at his side.

You rode on a blurrg with Mando, while Cara and Kuiil had their own. Your eyes were on the child floating in his pram the whole time, and you held up your longspear to make it known you were ready.

Greef proceeded to make awkward conversation, which you didn’t really pay attention to, but when he asked where the “little one” was, your senses went up in flames.

Not today buddy, you thought to yourself. Not today.

You turned around to look at Mando, silently asking him what to do.

“It’s ok,” he mumbled, and you nodded apprehensively.

You pressed a button on your wrist gauntlet (which was brilliantly engineered by Kuiil by the way) and the child was revealed to Greef in all his glory.

You honestly didn’t even hear what he was saying your ears were ringing so bad. He picked up the child, and your chest puffed while the grip on your longspear was causing the metal to almost bend.

If he even scratches the child, he’s dead.

Luckily, he doesn’t, and this unlikely crew is on their way again.

~~*~~

The team traveled for a while on Nevaro, but you didn’t mind the quiet. The silence was actually quite calming. Karga hadn’t tried any funny business yet, but you were still not convinced.

The sun set quickly, and so you all gathered around a campfire.

You helped Kuiil feed scraps of meat to the child, who was obviously pretty hungry.

“I guess the little bugger’s a carnivore,” Karga chuckled. “Never seen anything like it.”

He leaned in a bit closer to take a look at the child, which also meant he leaned closer to you. You felt his energy surrounding you, and you felt pretty uncomfortable.

“They were ready to pay a king’s ransom for that thing,” he said, but it almost sounded like a whisper in your ear. His closeness was starting to freak you out more, and you just wanted him away from you.

“Let’s go over the plan again,” Mando said, and you gave him a light smile in gratitude. He could see you were uncomfortable, and he got Karga distracted. You wondered if Karga’s closeness to you made Mando uncomfortable too?

Karga proceeded to sketch out the steps. The plan itself wasn’t bad at all. The team would go to the public house with the child as bait, while you stayed with Kuiil and the blurrgs to ensure their safety, and to make sure the Empire didn’t double cross you. You also didn’t want to get recognized, but Mando didn’t mention that to Karga. Mando would kill the client, and if there were any complications, Cara and Karga’s hunters would take care of it.

“Trust me,” Karga said, “nothing can go wrong.”

But of course, they could go wrong. Very very wrong.

As if on queue, a huge winged creature came flying out from the dark sky and Karga screamed in pain. He lurched backwards, and utter chaos ensued.

Blaster fire erupted all around you, and you immediately shut the child in his pram. You turned around with your longspear in hand, and you allowed your training to flow back through you.

You swung at any creature that came your way and cut through their skin if they came too close. Mando and Cara were doing some good damage too, but nothing seemed to make the creatures want to go away.

You heard a blurrg screech in pain and Kuiil yelled “drop her!”

You turned to your right and saw one of the creatures flying away with the blurrg. You took aim, and threw your spear directly into the creature’s neck.

It screeched and dropped the blurrg as it felt to the ground, dead. This was good, but you were left without a weapon. Lucky for you, Mando raised his arm and torched the creatures until they finally gave up.

Silence came over the camp, and it felt strange and eerie. The only thing you could hear were the sounds of pain Karga was making, and the tiny whimpers of the child.

You opened the pram and took the child in your arms, comforting him and stroking his head.

You looked up to see Cara and Mando rushing to Karga, and the wound in his arm looked bad.

“Hold still,” Cara said while sitting down and breaking open a medpac. “They got you good.”

“How bad?” Mando asked.

“Bad,” she said, “the poison is spreading fast. This isn’t working!” she yelled in frustration.

The child in your arms was squirming to be free, so you set him on the ground, and he immediately booked it to Karga.

You trailed behind him, and Cara gave you a glare.

“Get this thing out of here,” she said, and you went to reach for the child again.

“Wait,” Kuiil said, and you backed away. You had no idea when Kuiil was thinking, but he had some years on you, so you trusted his experience.

“He’s trying to eat me,” Karga moaned while looking at the child, whose hand was pressed directly on Karga’s wound.

Karga’s groans of pain were slowly becoming quieter, and he stared at the child in disbelief. The wound was slowly healing, until soon enough, it completely disappeared.

The child collapsed on the ground and you scooped him into your arms.

In all your training, all your pain, and all your hard work, you had never seen something like that. The shocked look on your face said it all.

Mando tilted his head up to you and said, “Have you ever seen something like this?”

“No…” you said, shaking your head in utter disbelief. “Never.”

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @pinkninja200 @farfromjustordinary @bookloverfilmoholic @440mxs-wife

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello Steph 😊 Do you have any BAMF Molly or just some good fics that feature Molly? I need some Molly love at the moment because I just read a fic where she "turns to the drak side" so to speak, and my heart 😭😭😭

Hey Nonny!

Ah I did a few comm. recs lists recently with Molly, but here are what I can offer you from memory, LOL. PLEASE add your fave Molly fics, guys! PLEASE NOTE these are fics I’ve read, and please check the sub-headings for a TONNE of stuff I haven’t read!! Big title so I can find it later LOL.

MOLLY PLAYS A ROLE

See also:

COMM RECS: Coming Out To Molly

COMM RECS: Molly with Women

COMM RECS: Molly and Greg Push John and Sherlock Together

COMM RECS: Molly as a Villain

Santa Knows by Itsallfine (T, 1,719 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Party, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Matchmaking, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock and John both get exactly what they want from the Yard's secret Santa exchange. Pure holiday fluff.

What John Doesn't Know (Won't Hurt Him) by blueink3 (NR [T], 4,392 w., 1 Ch, || S3 Fix It, Pining Sherlock, Snippets of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Fluff and Angst, Five and One, Hopeful Ending, POV Sherlock) – Five people who see Sherlock's scars before John Watson. But Sherlock's secrets were never something he could keep from his blogger for long.

Thirty Three Hours Without John Watson by Bookaholic, mybrotherharry (M, 6,232 w. || First Kiss / Time, Pining Idiots, BG Mystrade, Crackish) – Sherlock can SO TOTALLY survive without John Watson. It should be a piece of cake. AKA the time when Sherlock braved grocery store lines for milk, purchased and gave away a box of tampons and figured out what the X-Factor is. Greg and Mycroft didn’t sign up for this shit. Next time, they are going to the Bahamas.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

Insanity in the Middle by DotyTakeThisDown (E, 28,010 w., 8 Ch. || Equestrian Sports AU || Alternate First Meeting, POV John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Clueless Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Passionate Kisses, Hand Holding, Caught Making Out, Bed Sharing, Spooning, Blow Job) – John is a world-class eventing rider with a gold medal and several four-star wins to his credit, but he's never won at Rolex. Sherlock is an up-and-coming rider taking the sport by storm.

Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein (T, 31,987 w., 11 Ch. || College/Uni AU || Professor John, Ph.D Student Sherlock, Pining John, Poetry, Falling in Love / Slow Burn, Light Angst, Happy Ending) – John is an English professor who specializes in War and Post-War Literature and Sherlock is the brilliant yet impossible Ph.D. student assigned to be his TA because no one in the Chemistry Department is willing to put up with him. And - somewhere between Waugh and Plath, e-mails and takeaway, novels and villanelles - they fall in love.

The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm (E, 35,663 w., 20 Ch. || Alternating POV, Molly/  John [Molly pines for John], Public Sex, Casual Sex, Obliviousness, BAMF!John, Awkwardness, Angst & Humour, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) – Molly sees John in a new light and realises that she may have hitched her horse to the wrong wagon...or something like that. John pines for Sherlock and worries what he will think if he ever finds out. And Sherlock doesn't know what Molly's up to...but he knows he doesn't like it.

The Pieces That Fall to Earth by Itsallfine (M, 49,513 w., 84 Ch. || S4 Fix-It, Epistolary, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Parentlock, Past Abuse, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, Questioning Sexuality, Mental Health Issues / Therapy, Angst, Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock have hit rock bottom, but with all their armor stripped away, they can finally speak honestly, seek healing, and find the truths that matter most. An epistolary post-s4 fix-it fic. Now complete. (This fic is rated T except for one very clearly marked and easily skippable chapter, which is rated M.) Part 1 of The Pieces that Fall to Earth

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w., 15 Ch. || Notting Hill AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant -- but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

This Thing All Things Devours by cypress_tree (E, 63,844 w., 15 Ch. || In Time AU || Science Fiction, Dystopian Universe, First Meetings, Action / Adventure, Romance) – In 2169, time is money—literally. Humans are genetically engineered to stop aging at 25, when the numbers on their arm start counting down from one year. When that time is up, they die. The only way to get more time is to earn it, borrow it, or steal it.John Watson lives day-to-day in the crowded slums of Zone 13. He never imagined living any differently—until he meets the practically-immortal Sherlock, and helps him on a case to track a local time-thief...

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Stars Move Still by BeautifulFiction (E, 96,022 w., 5 Ch. || Magical Realism, Demons, Slash to Pre-Slash, AU, Happy Ending, Souls) – "What could I want so desperately that would make me sell my soul? What could possibly compel me to surrender the part of myself that makes me who I am: the source of my magic, my self-control, everything?”

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles, Girl’s Night, Texting, Virgin Sherlock, Drunk Sherlock, Background Mollstrade, Hair Petting, Laying on Lap) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

between each beat are words unsaid by darcylindbergh, hudders-and-hiddles (T, 107,998 w., 215 Ch. || Epistolary, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Happy Ending) – On their wedding night, John and Sherlock gift each other with the things they each said when the other could not hear, the things they each put down where the other could not see: a collection of writings that illustrate the way their love for one another has grown over the years. Part 1 of between each beat

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

[lalmohanpatnaik]

Vandals Of The British Kind

It may seem bizarre, but it’s true. The British East India Company had dismantled the Barabati Fort, and sold its stones to moneyed men of the town at 5 to 6 paisa each.

When the Barabati Fort was taken over by the British force from the Marhattas in 1803 the citadel had impenetrable double stone walls built of laterite and sandstone. They were defended by square slopping bastions with openings for canons. There were two gateways behind the main gateway which was flanked by lofty towers. 

But by the last quarter of the 19th century only the moat around the fort and the gateway survived a demolition rampage. In fact, there is no dearth of documentary evidence cited by historians which indicate that the Fort was pulled down to pieces and the purchasers of stones were reportedly asked to bear the expenses.

Many of the dismantled stones were used for repairing the 11th century flood protection wall that extended from Chahata up to Gadgadia on the right bank of Mahanadi River on the north side and south side from Chahata up to Purighat via Satichaura along the left bank of Kathajodi. Broken stones were used for making public roads. The stones were also used for construction of the Light House at False Point, a low headland in Bay of Bengal nearly 90 kms from Cuttack.

The story of systematic destruction of history began in 1828 when the flood protection wall which had by then become more than seven centuries old required repair and some British officers suggested use of stones from the Fort for the purpose. Then followed suggestion for removal of the stones from the Fort for construction of roads. The rationale behind the suggestions of the officers was the abundance of stones in the Fort. 

Responding to the suggestions the Fort Williams in Calcutta authorised use of the Barabati Fort stones for the repair of the flood protection wall and the public roads. The Military Board reportedly gave a free hand to the officers to sell the surplus stones as there was more than enough for the purpose. Subsequently, hundred stones of all sizes reportedly fetched from Rs 5 to Rs 6.

By 1856, the dismantling of the Barabati Fort ramparts and other structures within it reached such a situation that the Public Works Department Government of Bengal ordered for halt to the destruction of the fort and the excavations in the interior to be filled up.

In a letter written to the Magistrate Cuttack on August 11, 1956, Commissioner G F Cockburn observed: “The injury done to the old fort is irreparable and it is a most discreditable circumstance that one of the finest remains of antiquity in the province of Orissa should have been destroyed in the way it has been for the sake of stones for the use in roads and other public works”.

But removal of the stones from the old structures continued with officers reportedly coming up with fresh suggestions for bringing down of the ruined walls running round the fort and regular excavations parallel to the moat. 

On December 20, 1856, Cockburn wrote to the Chief Engineer Fort Williams: “There has been irreparable injury already committed on the old fort and I am most unwilling to approve of any further destruction. It was one of the finest architectural memorials in the province of the former native governments. It is now a matter of discredit to us and spoken of as such by all men who visit the ruin”. 

But the chief engineer insisted that further excavations should be allowed, ‘filling up hollows with earth and sand’. On April 1, 1857 Cockburn unwillingly approved of the proposed systematic excavation. Subsequently, demolition of the remains of the walls of the fort was undertaken, according to noted historian P Mukherjee.

 In 1873, historian George Toynbee found the Fort converted into “an unsightly series of earthen mounds” and the precincts within it into “wilderness of stone pits”.

Records attribute the ugly state of then to a treasure hunt by a British officer who believed that a hidden treasure was left behind by the Maharatas who they left hastily when the Barabati Fort fell to the British forces on the afternoon of October 14, 1803. 

The outcome of the treasure hunt remains a mystery.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 128

This is another chapter that I started with one intention and it kind of dragged me the other way. I started with what Miys says at the beginning as a kernel, and...

Yeah, avoiding spoilers, you get...*waves frantically* this.  Which I am excited about seeing where it goes.

Kudos to @baelpenrose​ and @mustachebatarts​ for this chapter. You’ll both understand when you read it :)

Tyche nodded sleepily as Alistair handed her a cup of coffee, mirroring my own struggle to wake up.  It was the beginning of Alpha shift - roughly 6:30am Terran Pacific NorthAm time - and we were starting our week with an extremely rare mission brief. Parvati and Hannah seemed either anxious or excited - possibly a combination - as the last brief they had received was ship-wide when we announced the lighting changes. Neither of them had ever been in one of the Council-only meetings that preceded such announcements.

Due to the growth on the Council - both among administrators and among Mentees - it wasn’t feasible to hold this meeting face to face in the room ordinarily used for such things. As a result, each Councilor was joining from their respective office, along with auxiliary staff who needed to be privy to the information discussed. For someone like Grey, that would be themself, Antoine, and their current admin, Nora. In my case, it was everyone who reported to my office.

“Has everyone joined?” I asked in my role as Parliamentarian for this meeting.  No one liked the position, so it rotated.

“Still waiting on Huynh, Charly, and Ivan,” Eino replied.

“We’re here!” an entirely-too-awake voice greeted.

Ignoring the laugh that Alistair and Hannah were suppressing, I forged ahead. “That’s everyone then. Good Morning, Council. Today is January 23rd, 2051 Terran-relative time, 45th day of Von cold season Year four Pre-Colony. We are currently two Terran years from Von. Miys has requested that we gather this morning for an important mission update so that we can prepare. Miys, you have the floor.”

“Thank you, Wisdom. Good day, Human Council.” I couldn’t tell if Miys had practiced or was operating on multiple minds, but the resemblance to a human public-speaker was startling. “As stated by Councilor Wisdom, the Yjq is currently two Terran years from your destination. We requested to address you in order to advise that navigational adjustments will be necessary within one Terran year of the planet you call Von.”

Murmurs erupted on the conference, but no one actually interrupted, so Miys continued. “Due to the density of systems in this portion of the Galaxy, the final Terran year of the journey cannot be made at our current speed.  The Yjq will need to drop out of relativistic space and complete the remaining leg in realspace.”

“How does this immediately impact the human population?” Grey asked first, hardly letting Miys finish their statement.

“With the sensors operational, there should be no noticeable difference in the transition,” came the answer. “However, there will be the introduction of potential physical hazards once we are in realspace.”

After a pause of silence, Xiomara spoke up. “Are you talking about the potential of being attacked?”

“Galactic law prohibits acts of violence against aide or rescue vessels.”

I heard an explosive snort before an extremely dry voice joined in. “Miys, that is the opposite of an answer,” Evania argued. “And we all know that criminals are famous for their adherence to the letter of the law.”

An alert chirped on my data band, and I almost choked when I saw Arthur’s message: “Oh, I LIKE her…”

“Once we are no longer in relativistic space, the Yjq is due to rendezvous with an Ekomari escort within thirty Terran days.”

“And what is the tactical benefit of that escort?” Evan pushed.

Rather than Miys, Charly responded. “Ekomari are very aggressive, but even more bound by a code of honor.  They view preying on the weak - including rescue and aide vessels - the most disgusting behavior imaginable.  This extends to the point of stopping their own attacks once the enemy is considered defeated.”

“Only an extremely overconfident or suicidal crew would try to go up against an Ekomari squadron that is escorting us,” Arthur finished.

“That is satisfactory. No objections.”

Approval in her tone, Xiomara launched the next question. “What about the thirty days we won’t have an escort? What is normally done on that leg of the journey?”

“Optimally, there is no such period during such a relocation.” I heard every person in my office inhale with dread at that statement. “During this time, there is always an increased concern that pirates and scavengers will attack in an attempt to be the first beings with artifacts from the newly present species.”

“Souvenirs… They want us for souvenirs…” Tyche muttered.

“We will discuss our options once we have all the information,” I stated loudly, trying to keep the meeting going before everyone panicked. “Miys, what other information do we need to know about the final year of the journey?”

“Once we are in realspace, long distance scans and data mining operations will begin for more accurate information regarding Von.  This information will be communicated to the entire Council so that any changes or updates to colony plans may be adjusted and finalized.  That is all for now.”

“Thank you Miys. You may remain in the meeting, as we may need your input regarding Galactic regulations, statistics, or laws.”

“Of course, Wisdom.”

I nodded and took a deep breath. “Xiomara, I’m pretty sure that you and Evan have a lot to say on the matter at hand.  Are there any objections to Health and Safety taking the floor?”

After a round of negatives, I conceded the floor. “Thank you, Sophia. Council, clearly there is a pressing matter in our future, here at the end of a tumultuous era, just as our goal is in sight. We cannot allow thirty days of risk to derail us now. For all that we have striven to show humanity as capable of peace and change, we now need to reach down to the roots of our very existence and ensure that we will not be undefended in that month.”

“Miys, the Ark is equipped with scouting probes and evacuation shuttles,” Evan followed. “What are the chances that we can repurpose those into our own small squadron for defensive purposes.”

“Doing such would invalidate the protection the Yjq is afforded by Galactic Law.”

“Excuse me, what!?” I sputtered, completely caught off guard.

“Hospital ships are only protected so long as they are incapable of defense, to prevent opposing forces from attacking each other under the guise of aide,” Charly explained in a mournful tone.

Evan and I groaned heavily. “At least tell me that the odds of any attackers completely blowing up the ship are low?”

“They would only be able to do so by detonating our drives from the inside.  To do so from the exterior would require more force than a coronal ejection from a white dwarf star.”

That was reassuring at least.

“So we would be safe as long as they don’t board the ship,” Arthur acknowledged.  I could see where his next question was going, but Evan beat him to it by a mile.

“Since we are not Hujylsogox, and are only the cargo of the Ark, there are no prohibitions against us defending ourselves in the event of a forced boarding, correct? Only you, yourself, would not be able to fight back.”

“This is correct, Commander Josue. I am not allowed to interfere in such a matter.”

Interesting wording.  Noah was telling us, as officially as allowed, that it would not fight the intruders, but also would not stop us from any actions we took. I smiled as I felt a confirming nudge in the back of my mind.

“Well, those weapons demonstrations were certainly not just for fun,” Huynh growled.  I could hear Charly cackling in the background before he confirmed to her that, yes, she can play with the construction exos.

“Let’s be organized about this,” Xiomara insisted. “For those comfortable with helping defend, we need to set up anti-boarding drills to start six months out at the latest. For those on the ship who are against violence, sort them into who can provide medical aid and who needs to do evacuation drills.  Eino, Arthur - can you assist Sophia’s team with that?”

“We can,” Eino confirmed, echoed by Arthur.

Parvati and Hannah glanced at each other silently before the former jumped in. “I recommend that at least one person with weapons training is assigned to each evacuation group, as a worst case defense.”

“I second that,” Xiomara agreed in a clipped tone. “Any objections?” A brief, silent pause. “Good. Add that to the strategy.”

“Miys, we need a list of what species are most likely to be found on pirate vessels.  Knowing their biology will go a long way to developing defense strategies,” Arthur requested.

“I like it,” Evan approved. “Ekomari may be honorable, but humanity has survived this long because we aren’t ashamed of taking cheap shots.”

“It is safe to assume that boarding parties will not have electromagnetic vision, as it has been advised that it is quite rare in the galaxy,” Grey pointed out. “We can use this to our advantage, most likely.”

“If we’re lucky to be in the light part of the cycle…” Tyche muttered.

“Administrator Reid has a point,” Pranav admitted, startling her. “If we are in the dark part of the cycle, we will be at a distinct disadvantage.”

“The lights are artificial,” Huynh sighed. “We can turn them on.”

“If I may interject,” Miys responded. “It is not as simple as you seem to believe to increase the light emitters on the entire Ark, Councilor Huynh.  The drain on the ship engines could permanently damage them.”

I could feel Charly’s eyes rolling in my soul when she picked up from there. “We can try to make some plans for that contingency. Pranav does have a point.”

“So that’s anti-boarding drills, evacuation drills, aid teams, threat assessment, and at least a start on evaluating where we stand from a defensive perspective. Once Sophia, Eino, and their offices coordinate who is which group, we’ll pull back up to determine who will be leading which initiatives,” Xiomara recapped. “Sophia, anything else we need to cover?”

“I think that’s the priorities right now,” I confirmed, effectively ending the meeting.  Once I closed out the channel, I turned to those in my office. “So, how do we feel about this?”

“Like you are going to be in one of the evacuation groups, stuffed as far back in the ship as possible,” Tyche stated drily.

“If we get boarded,” I pointed out. “It may not happen.”

“Madam Reid, you are on this ship.”

I scowled at Alistair before turning to Parvati and Hannah. “Reach out to Arthur and Eino to schedule that meeting.”

Hannah looked unsure. “Why are they being loaned to us for this? Eino’s a Councillor.”

The door of my office hissed open and the rhythmic thud of boots walked in. “Because your office, specifically Tyche, handles all ship staffing, while I am being used for physical ability assessments, and Eino literally has nothing to do as head of Education in all this.” Arthur nodded his head in thanks when Alistair handed him tea.

I just pointed at him and nodded. “Besides, this way Xiomara is indirectly involved.” I glanced at Parvati before winking. “It was a clever move, I have to admit.”

Parvati smiled and shook her head. “I can’t even say you’re wrong. That’s exactly why she did it, honestly, on all counts.”

“And that is part of it, too.” Tyche waved. “Work more closely with your fellow future Councillors, and you learn to read what they aren’t saying.  Our office works very closely with Xio’s and Grey’s, so we have to know how best to keep that going.”

Arthur just held his arms wide and shrugged. “I have to respect Xiomara’s tendency to keep her fingers on all pulses.  She’s almost as bad as Sophia that way.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true,” Alistair sighed. “You are profoundly nosy.”

Hannah groaned and threw her head back. “We are never going to be on the Council at this rate.”

“Excuse me?? That’s the point of all this!” I gestured around my office energetically.

“Yes, because you will totally retire,” Hannah said slowly, nodding her head like I was a toddler. “Of course you will, Sophia. We all know it…”

Parvati snickered, covering it badly. Arthur gave me a pointed look, and I could hear him repeating ‘obsessive, compulsive perfectionist’.

I was saved, for certain, weird values of salvation, by Tyche.  She just glanced down at her nails, studying them, before calmly glancing at me. “Charly is dangerously close to getting approval from Sebastian for her proposal of kink night at the Undine.  Think really hard if you want to be on the Council for that, Sophia.  It would be an event, meaning it would come to this office.”

“Yep, retiring soon,” I squeaked.  Laughter erupted around me as my face heated up. “I’m all for sex positivity, but I just can’t fathom the logistics of that. Nope. Not gonna be me. Y’all have fun. Enjoy. All yours.”

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[greatworldwar2]

• Hanna Reitsch

Hanna Reitsch was a German aviator and test pilot. Along with Melitta von Stauffenberg, she flight tested many of Germany's new aircraft during World War II and received many honors. She set more than 40 flight altitude records and women's endurance records in gliding and unpowered flight, before and after World War II.

Reitsch was born in Hirschberg, Silesia (today Jelenia Góra in Poland) on March 29th, 1912 to an upper-middle-class family. She was daughter of Dr. Wilhelm Willy Reitsch, who was ophthalmology clinic manager, and his wife Emy Helff-Hibler von Alpenheim, who was a member of the Catholic Austrian nobility. Hanna grew up with two siblings, her brother Kurt, a Frigate captain, and her younger sister Heidi. She began flight training in 1932 at the School of Gliding in Grunau. While a medical student in Berlin she enrolled in a German Air Mail amateur flying school for powered aircraft at Staaken, in a Klemm Kl 25. In 1933, Reitsch left medical school at the University of Kiel to become, at the invitation of Wolf Hirth, a full-time glider pilot/instructor at Hornberg in Baden-Württemberg. Reitsch contracted with the Ufa Film Company as a stunt pilot and set an unofficial endurance record for women of eleven hours and twenty minutes. In January 1934, she joined a South America expedition to study thermal conditions, along with Wolf Hirth, Peter Riedel and Heini Dittmar. While in Argentina, she became the first woman to earn the Silver C Badge, the 25th to do so among world glider pilots. In June 1934, Reitsch became a member of the Deutsche Forschungsanstalt für Segelflug (DFS) and became a test pilot in 1935. Reitsch enrolled in the Civil Airways Training School in Stettin, where she flew a twin-engine on a cross country flight and aerobatics in a Focke-Wulf Fw 44. At the DFS she test flew transport and troop-carrying gliders, including the DFS 230 used at the Battle of Fort Eben-Emael.

In September 1937, Reitsch was posted to the Luftwaffe testing centre at Rechlin-Lärz Airfield by Ernst Udet. Her flying skill, desire for publicity, and photogenic qualities made her a star of Nazi propaganda. Physically she was petite in stature, very slender with blonde hair, blue eyes and a "ready smile". She appeared in Nazi propaganda throughout the late 1930s and early 1940s. Reitsch was the first female helicopter pilot and one of the few pilots to fly the Focke-Achgelis Fa 61, the first fully controllable helicopter, for which she received the Military Flying Medal. In 1938, during the three weeks of the International Automobile Exhibition in Berlin, she made daily flights of the Fa 61 helicopter inside the Deutschlandhalle. In September 1938, Reitsch flew the DFS Habicht in the Cleveland National Air Races. Reitsch was a test pilot on the Junkers Ju 87 Stuka dive bomber and Dornier Do 17 light/fast bomber projects, for which she received the Iron Cross, Second Class, from Hitler on March 28th, 1941. Reitsch was asked to fly many of Germany's latest designs, among them the rocket-propelled Messerschmitt Me 163 Komet in 1942. A crash landing on her fifth Me 163 flight badly injured Reitsch; she spent five months in a hospital recovering. Reitsch received the Iron Cross First Class following the accident, one of only three women to do so.

In February 1943 after news of the defeat in the Battle of Stalingrad she accepted an invitation from Generaloberst Robert Ritter von Greim to visit the Eastern Front. She spent three weeks visiting Luftwaffe units, flying a Fieseler Fi 156 Storch. On February 28th, 1944, she presented the idea of Operation Suicide to Hitler at Berchtesgaden, which "would require men who were ready to sacrifice themselves in the conviction that only by this means could their country be saved." Although Hitler "did not consider the war situation sufficiently serious to warrant them...and...this was not the right psychological moment", he gave his approval. The project was assigned to Gen. Günther Korten. There were about seventy volunteers who enrolled in the Suicide Group as pilots for the human glider-bomb. By April 1944, Reitsch and Heinz Kensche finished tests of the Me 328, carried aloft by a Dornier Do 217. By then, she was approached by SS-Obersturmbannführer Otto Skorzeny, a founding member of the SS-Selbstopferkommando Leonidas (Leonidas Squadron). They adapted the V-1 flying bomb into the Fieseler Fi 103R Reichenberg including a two-seater and a single-seater with and without the mechanisms to land. The plan was never implemented operationally, "the decisive moment had been missed."

In her autobiography Fliegen, mein Leben Reitsch recalled that after two initial crashes with the Fi 103R she and Heinz Kensche took over tests of the prototype Fi 103R. She made several successful test flights before training the instructors. "Though an average pilot could fly the V1 without difficulty once it was in the air, to land it called for exceptional skill, in that it had a very high landing speed and, moreover, in training it was the glider model, without engine, that was usually employed." In October 1944, Reitsch claims she was shown a booklet by Peter Riedel which he'd obtained while in the German Embassy in Stockholm, concerning the gas chambers. She further claims that while believing it to be enemy propaganda, she agreed to inform Heinrich Himmler about it. Upon doing so, Himmler is said to have asked whether she believed it, and she replied, "No, of course not. But you must do something to counter it. You can't let them shoulder this onto Germany." "You are right," Himmler replied. During the last days of the war, Hitler dismissed Hermann Göring as head of the Luftwaffe and appointed Reitsch's lover, von Greim, to replace him. Von Greim and Reitsch flew from Gatow Airport into embattled Berlin to meet Hitler in the Führerbunker, arriving on April 26th, as the Red Army troops were already in the central area of Berlin. Reitsch and von Greim had flown from Rechlin–Lärz Airfield to Gatow Airfield in a Focke Wulf 190, escorted by twelve other Fw 190s from Jagdgeschwader 26 under the command of Hauptmann Hans Dortenmann. In Berlin, Reitsch landed a Fi 156 Storch on an improvised airstrip in the Tiergarten near the Brandenburg Gate. Hitler gave Reitsch two capsules of poison for herself and von Greim. She accepted the capsule.

During the evening of April 28th, Reitsch flew von Greim out of Berlin in an Arado Ar 96 from the same improvised airstrip. This was the last plane out of Berlin. Von Greim was ordered to get the Luftwaffe to attack the Soviet forces that had just reached Potsdamer Platz and to make sure Heinrich Himmler was punished for his treachery in making unauthorised contact with the Western Allies so as to surrender. Troops of the Soviet 3rd Shock Army, which was fighting its way through the Tiergarten from the north, tried to shoot the plane down fearing that Hitler was escaping in it, but it took off successfully. Reitsch was soon captured along with von Greim and the two were interviewed together by U.S. military intelligence officers. When asked about being ordered to leave the Führerbunker on April 28th, 1945, Reitsch and von Greim reportedly repeated the same answer: "It was the blackest day when we could not die at our Führer's side." Reitsch also said: "We should all kneel down in reverence and prayer before the altar of the Fatherland." When the interviewers asked what she meant by "Altar of the Fatherland" she answered, "Why, the Führer's bunker in Berlin ..." She was held for eighteen months. Von Greim killed himself on May 24th, 1945. Evacuated from Silesia ahead of the Soviet troops, Reitsch's family took refuge in Salzburg. During the night of May 3rd, 1945, after hearing a rumour that all refugees were to be taken back to their original homes in the Soviet occupation zone, Reitsch's father shot and killed her mother and sister and her sister's three children before killing himself.

After her release Reitsch settled in Frankfurt am Main. After the war, German citizens were barred from flying powered aircraft, but within a few years gliding was allowed, which she took up again. In 1952, Reitsch won a bronze medal in the World Gliding Championships in Spain; she was the first woman to compete. In 1955 she became German champion. She continued to break records, including the women's altitude record (6,848 m (22,467 ft)) in 1957 and her first diamond of the Gold-C badge. During the mid-1950s, Reitsch was interviewed on film and talked about her wartime flight tests of the Fa 61, Me 262 and Me 163. In 1959, Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru invited Reitsch, who spoke fluent English, to start a gliding centre, and she flew with him over New Delhi. In 1961, United States President John F. Kennedy invited her to the White House. From 1962 to 1966, she lived in Ghana. The then Ghanaian President, Kwame Nkrumah invited Reitsch to Ghana after reading of her work in India. At Afienya she founded the first black African national gliding school, working closely with the government and the armed forces. The West German government supported her as technical adviser. Reitsch's attitudes to race underwent a change. "Earlier in my life, it would never have occurred to me to treat a black person as a friend or partner ..." She now experienced guilt at her earlier "presumptuousness and arrogance". She became close to Nkrumah. The details of their relationship are now unclear due to the destruction of documents, but some surviving letters are intimate in tone. In Ghana, some Africans were disturbed by the prominence of a person with Reitsch's past, but Shirley Graham Du Bois, a noted African-American writer who had emigrated to Ghana and was friendly towards Reitsch, agreed with Nkrumah that Reitsch was extremely naive politically. Throughout the 1970s, Reitsch broke gliding records in many categories, including the "Women's Out and Return World Record" twice, once in 1976 (715 km (444 mi)) and again, in 1979 (802 km (498 mi)), flying along the Appalachian Ridges in the United States. During this time, she also finished first in the women's section of the first world helicopter championships. Reitsch was interviewed and photographed several times in the 1970s, towards the end of her life, by Jewish-American photo-journalist Ron Laytner.

Reitsch died of a heart attack in Frankfurt at the age of 67, on August 24th, 1979. She had never married. She is buried in the Reitsch family grave in Salzburger Kommunalfriedhof. Former British test pilot and Royal Navy officer Eric Brown said he received a letter from Reitsch in early August 1979 in which she said, "It began in the bunker, there it shall end." Within weeks she was dead. Brown speculated that Reitsch had taken the cyanide capsule Hitler had given her in the bunker, and that she had taken it as part of a suicide pact with Greim. No autopsy was performed, or at least no such report is available.

[speedygal]

Now I know the header tank is in the nosecone, the flaps, the common domes, forward domes, the name of the Veloci(Raptor) engine, the Rvacs (Raptor Vacuum), the booster---but that just comes from me lurking in lounge, nasaspaceflight, and watching the construction every day of each Starship model either through livestream, by photos, or information from spacexlounge. Something I didn’t know a year ago. Why am I so interested? Because one day, Starship Superheavy will be my ride to Mars.

SPPPAAAAACCEEEE.

MAAAAAAARRSS.

One starship that I will be watching in the future will be my own ride being built long after the prototypes. Watching the progress it takes to become safe and reliable for the public to trust has been a roller coaster, being stuck between “Scrub!” and “Launch!” and “RUD!” as it stands on the launch mount during each test is a moment of anxiety but historical one at best.

In a way it’s like watching a vehicle of necessities being built in real time with a eye on it and doing something else knowing what stage of development it is in, what the parts are for the ship, and how long it is going to take to be finished. A aspect of this change that people didn’t get to do while waiting for their vehicles, let it be trucks, cars, vans, minivans, to be made in a way like Starship is. It’s a amazing luxury to have. I’ll know on the spot when it is ready to launch me and other passengers.

Pinned against the chair as Starship Superheavy departs the planet, by gravity, by the sheer force of the flight, my hands on the arm rests, watching through the window of the ship pass through various layers of the atmosphere until being in space and waiting for the booster to come back with fuel for the flight to Mars. It’ll be my first and only flight and it’ll count.  I’ll know the name of my Starship by heart by then, the flight number as well, ingrained in my psyche. Floating along in space headed toward a new planet, among the stardust, among the space dust, among the stars, under the cloak of space for hours, days, weeks!  Watching the stars stand out against the dark canvas outside in the vacuum of space.

Then to step foot on Mars in a spacesuit would be incredible and so thrilling and vindicating and groundbreaking all at once and so exciting I am on MARS. The PLANET. The PLANET that has had tons of movies made about it and will have a lot more about colonizing it, including television shows set on it about life on it, all about a barren lifeless a planet which is so far away from Earth.

Mars is a planet that people have dreamed about, something that was so impossible and only could be something that would happen in 22nd century only twenty years ago! It’s only a distant light in the night sky but it will be a full on feasible place for most people once colonization begins with videos from Starships that landed there. No climate change going to kill the planet in the future and make it a unlivable planet. Just a existence of living in a protected area for the remainder of my life and go out occasionally and be so happy that I am there, maybe scream, cheer, jump. "I LOVE MARS!" UNDER MICROGRAVITY

It’s just incredible. Right now, we cannot go to Mars and it is a unknown frontier that seems still so impossible and not of this century to happen at all but it will be of this century and it will be a known frontier in a few years. For me, it will be odd, arriving to Mars because it is a planet far away from Earth, a planet in space, a planet that I have never been to before but had only seen in photos and in movies. It will be even odd because I am on a entirely different planet that isn’t Earth. A planet that was once a star in the sky and now Earth would be the very same. Mars by then, would not feel like place that was known as a destination but too far away and felt like it didn’t exist.

That moment being there be a profound one of being there. Perhaps a moment of relief initially that whatever weather anomaly happens on Earth won't impact me. It's one of many signs that we're in the future. I recall reading my social studies book and seeing a  picture with "here, a miner doing some mining in a tight space" and I went, "hey, we're in the 21st century!" inwardly and boggled me that we were still mining and not using solar energy.

I also recall reading a article in school about old solar panels that were losing watts and the owner is like, “It still works Just the amount that I need.” and the articles arguing against using solar panels for day to day power usage. I very much recall while reading, “Why don’t they buy new solar panels?” I don’t know what happened to that person but I hope they got new panels and are happy with them giving them the energy that they need just like future colonists getting what they need from solar panels on Mars and only needing to replace them every few decades, scheduled, paid for by SpaceX.

Being on Mars would mean to me that we are firmly in the 21st century, ironed out that nobody would die on the way to Mars by accident, progressed as a civilization, gone where no person has gone before (well, asides to the people before me who arrived to Mars) and departed their cradle.  The day mass numbers of people go to Mars will be the day that is marked in Earth’s calendar as the day the baby left the cradle and didn’t come back after a few short hours that date will be known in History books, historical videos, historical digital pages, what not, the date that humanity got out of the cradle, hovered above ground then got a silo with wheels and buzzed off to other rooms, to other cradles, to other places.

Musk will be a fully renowned historical figure, highly flawed, but someone so instrumental along with other engineers and welders in bringing humanity to Mars but he will be known as the man who cut down the length of history making it would take to get to Mars, he may be revered, despised, but remembered all the same.  Being on Mars means the future is here, it is now, it is going to be tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that and so will humanity.

It’s insurance for our very survival even for the memory of humanity to linger on for eternity with dreams that came true for those who wanted to be the first round of people to be there. And someday, living on Mars won’t be amazing for a generation born and raised there, someday other planets will be in the spot of ‘I want to go there in Starship’ and that’s beautiful.

[ghostdummieideas]

A Grave Mistake 1/?

I wanted to write a comedic series involving a graveyard worker and Mary Goore. I don’t know how long this will be, but enjoy. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a desperate need to pick up a job before your last semester, you committed to any PM shift available on the posting. Your previous supervisor refused to adjust your shift to your school schedule. Thus, you had to part ways to prioritize your education. The only problem was the fact that you require money to survive, and out of the ten work postings you applied for, one replied: A position in maintaining and watching over the local cemetery. 

Your first impression of your boss isn’t outstanding, either. An unwelcoming, scowling man with a cue ball head and stained uniform. He didn’t even look up at you from his security monitors, just jabbed his thumb over this shoulder.

“Even out the gravel, kid,” he grunted. Your eyes followed his gesture to locate a rusty rake and a headlamp hanging from one of the many hooks. You shuffled over to the corner and snagged the headband, then grasped the rough handle of the appliance and took the tool off the hook. 

“Wear the jacket before you go.” 

You turned back towards your new boss to see him now pointing to the coat hanger next to the office door, bearing a crusty-looking trench coat. Without another word, you grabbed the article of clothing and ventured out into the chilly outdoors.

The extra layer of the trench coat provided little to no aid into blocking the frigid winds swirling around you. You stuffed your free hand into the pocket, pausing when your hand met with plastic. You grasped the unknown item in your hand and brought it in front of you. A plastic bag with draw strings attached to the lip of the liner. “That’s nice of him,” you mumbled to yourself. ‘This will make the disposal process easier.’

Buzzing from the ancient lamps that flanked the gravel walkway illuminated with a pale glow. Rustles of dead leaves created a lullaby people could only find during this time of year. A sigh escaped your lips as you contemplated your options.

‘I’ll start around the outer perimeter, then work my way in towards the mausoleums,’ you thought.

You took your time to walk to the entryway of the burial ground, pushing aside piles of wilted leaves from the main path. The buzz of electricity and faint noise of the city beyond the iron gates provided the perfect white noise. Another gust of wind swept past you.

‘There are worse jobs out there, right?’ became your mantra, and you repeated it in your head whenever you felt a little spooked.

  Your efforts in clearing the property quickly become visible. The once-obscured trail was now in sight after just a few hours’ worth of work. Without warning, a crash interrupted your work to push through the decaying fauna. You stopped your labor to find the source of the mysterious noise.

Shing

Pssh

Fump

With a glance around the area, you searched for any source of the ruckus. With no luck, you cautiously moved forward through the cemetery, trying to find whatever’s making that weird noise. There’s no mistake, you weren’t the only one in the gravesite. No way would a possum or a racoon cause that much of a disturbance.

‘What the hell is that?’ you wonder, anxiety spiking your pulse. You raise the rake from the crumbling earth to follow the commotion, deviating from the path and proceeding into the dark. The closer you stepped into the graveyard, the louder the sound of metal scraping mud became. You stopped for a moment to shut off your head lamp. The light would only alert the source of the noise to your location. Your steps eclipsed by the shadows, you steal deeper into the cemetery. The moonlight assisted your journey to the mystery that lies ahead. 

‘Am I in a cliché horror movie? Ha, good one, me. I’ll run into some kind of murder and scream myself to death!’

The self-deprecating humor failed to extinguish the knot that had formed in your gut. As you looked up from your path, a moving shape caught your attention. In the near darkness, you can barely make out the silhouette of a male with fitted clothes hugging his outline, the handle of a shovel in his grasp. The cadence of the shovel’s blade meeting the moist terrain echoed with his motions.

With grace, you noiselessly crouch behind a gravestone without alerting the stranger of your presence. You gently put the equipment right next to you so it won’t appear in his view. 

With a better vantage point, you can make the stranger’s features in the moonlight. Leather cuffs adorned his lean arms. A grime-covered shirt and torn jeans hugged his frame. Raven black hair draped to the front of his face. 

‘I-is that blood??’ you asked yourself as you spy the specs of maroon painted on the side of the unknown figure’s skin.

‘Why is he digging at a gravesite in this hour? Is he graverobbing? Fuck, boss never gave me a protocol for this problem.’ Your mind filled with the plausible solution to this problem. Should you dash to the office and tell that prune what’s happening? Wouldn’t he have seen this guy trespassing on the security feed?

With your knees aching from crouching to remain hidden, you went to adjust your footing to find a comfortable position. 

CrACK

‘Oh, fuck’ you internally screamed at yourself as your foot breaks a rogue stick. 

The man halted his movement. Lifting himself upright from his excavation, he patrolled his surroundings. As he scanned the cemetery, you ducked to get out of his sight. In a state of frenzy, you didn’t know what the best choice was. Run? Wait for him to dig again so he’s too distracted to witness you scurrying away?

The sound of crunching leaves was getting closer and pulled you out of your thoughts. You pressed yourself against the icy marble and prayed that he doesn't catch you stumbling onto his grim activity. His footsteps stopped and you couldn't breathe. 'Please turn back, please turn back, please turn back,' you pleaded over and over again in your mind. From the corner of your eye, you saw a scrawny hand reach over the block of stone that hid your body.

The silhouette of the unwanted guest’s shadow loomed over you. Glancing to your right, you could see mud-caked boots. You scanned up to see the enigmatic man glowering down at your petrified figure. His devilish grin complemented the crimson fluid flowing from his forehead. The moonlight cast a haunting look on his sunken cheeks and hollow eyes. He looks like a walking corpse. The living dead. His manic looking face came closer to yours. 

“Boo.”

Using whatever strength you have, your nails dug into the pile of leaves and threw the concoction of dirt, pebbles, and sticks at the man. A distressed grunt and the sound of shuffling let you know you had your chance. You scrambled to your feet and made a mad dash from the walking corpse, your shrieks of distress echoing through the silent field. One hand held down the first layer of coating while the other dug  to find the lanyard containing your assortment of keys.

With a goal in mind, you ran past the iron gates, rushing out of the cemetery and into the parking lot. With your beat up Toyota in view, you slowed your dash to a jog. You did a double take to figure if they followed you. You couldn't see him, but you could hear the crunching of leaves from the direction you came. Yanking your lanyard out of the pocket of your coat, you arrived at the driver’s side of the vehicle. Pressing the unlock button, the sound of your door unlocking never sounded so sweet until this moment. Ripping open the door, you slide in and close it right behind you. You scanned the entrance to see any signs of the chaser. On cue, the man collided with the cemetery gate, gripping the bars as he tried to catch his breath.

When the key aligned with the slot, you revved the engine to life. Without looking back, you threw the car in reverse and sped towards the parking entrance. You drove until you found the first public parking space. You maneuver into the spot closest to the illuminated building. Setting the gear to park, you allowed your body to release the tension in your shoulders. The adrenaline started to wear off, and the dam broke. A whimper grew into a sob. Your palms covered your eyes as you crashed from the anxiety-inducing event.

‘Who was that guy?’

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 22: Futuristic

In a world where cybernetic enhancements have reached the point of genetic inheritance and only those without them are seen as ‘pure,’ Logan is a mechanic attempting to hide his cybernetic status. He somehow catches the eye of Prince Roman, a human who has an interesting view of the Enhanced.

Logan POV, Logince

TW: Racism against cyborgs, brief mentions of oppression and public beatings/killings

Day 21 | Masterlist | Day 23

Logan sighed as he attempted to weld the two pieces of metal together. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but Logan wanted to get this done as soon as possible. The client had promised to pay him extremely well if he had it done in under 24 hours. And if there were two things that Logan would admit to being, it would be determined and dirt poor.

“Ah!” Logan hissed as his right hand was burned through the glove. He winced, fully removing his right glove before moving to the back room, away from any potential prying eyes. He used his teeth to remove his gloves, not wanting to get anything on his burn. His navy blue metal hand gleamed softly in the light, and Logan resisted the urge to scowl at it. He grabbed some burn cream and bandages from a nearby table and started to wrap his right hand up. The sharp contrast between his hands drew in Logan’s attention. Right and Left. Weak and Strong. Flesh and Metal. Pure and Enhanced.

Logan scowled. A little over 300 years ago, people first began obtaining cybernetic enhancements to make up for missing limbs. Soon, there were entire generations that used cybernetic enhancements to create ‘perfect’ children. Around 80 years later, science had evolved to where cybernetic enhancements could be applied down to the cellular levels. Any inhuman enhancements could now be chosen before birth, and could even be genetically inherited. After 200 years of cybernetic enhancements, the ‘Enhanced’ took up over 40% of the population. That’s when people began to discriminate against the Enhanced, saying that their enhancements made them ‘less than human.’ It didn’t help that by that point, 90% of the Enhanced were born with their enhancements. It was soon seen as wrong for Enhanced to hold positions of power, or have any children. The people without cybernetic enhancements were seen as ‘the Pure.’

Logan sighed. While there weren’t any legal ramifications to being an Enhanced, there was still major discrimination against them. If anyone saw his external enhancement, he’d be fired within the week. Most people had obvious external enhancements, such as metal eyes and limbs. Very few were born with internal enhancements, such as multiple sex organs or a cybernetic immune system. Logan had a few internal enhancements, but his only external enhancement was his left hand, which he tended to cover up with his gloves.

Logan sighed as he finished wrapping up his human hand. He quickly put back on the gloves before heading back to the front of the repair shop. He was surprised to see someone there, staring at the metal pieces he had been working on. Logan cleared his throat. “Excuse me, can I help you?”

The person jumped, turning to face Logan. Most of their face was obscured by their hood, but Logan could vaguely make out their tan skin and reddish-brown hair. “Hello! I’m looking for Logan Croft; is he here today?”

Logan adjusted his glasses while staring down at the stranger. Not for the first time in his life, Logan was thankful for the glasses. Most Enhanced had perfect hearing and eyesight, so he was usually assumed to be one of the Pure. “My name is Logan Croft; what do you need today?”

The stranger looked through the window towards the street, where the entire street was empty. He then turned back and pulled down his hood. Logan felt his heart stop. The stranger was extremely attractive, with big green eyes and plump pink lips. The stranger smiled. “Greetings, my name is Roman. I was told that you are the best mechanic in the kingdom.”

Logan felt a small amount of recognition at the name, but he couldn’t remember where he had heard it. He then blushed at the compliment. “Nonsense, I’m sure there are plenty of mechanics in the area that surpass me in terms of skill.” Besides, even if Roman was being truthful, people didn’t hire Logan that often. Especially since he didn’t discriminate against the Enhanced.

Roman shook his head. “Even if they are skillful, it is rumored that there is no problem that you cannot find the solution to. Even when you are physically incapable of fixing it, you can easily discover and explain what the issue is and how to fix it. That is deeply admirable.” He turned towards the metal he had been observing previously. “What is this supposed to be? I’m afraid I’m not well-versed with machines, and it’s been bugging me since I got here.”

Logan quickly answered, grateful to no longer be under Roman’s praise. “It’s a compact engine for a replacement eye. My client suffered from minor head trauma, and one of the wires snapped. Since the engine is so small, I had to completely take it apart before I could repair the wire. I am currently piecing it back together. With any luck, the engine should be fully repaired before noon.”

Roman turned to stare at Logan. “You have enhanced clients?”

Logan immediately became defensive. “Do you have an issue with that?”

Roman shook his head. “No! It’s just not often that I get to meet mechanics that work on Enhanced. It’s a dying field, sadly.” He sighed. “The world’s prejudice against Enhanced is pathetic, really. It’s not like the Pure are any better biologically. Actually, most Enhanced people are better than the Pure, both biologically and as people in general.”

Logan raised his eyebrows in shock. “That’s a very bold claim.”

Roman scowled. “And what’s wrong with that?”

Logan shrugged, moving to collect the metal pieces around him. “I didn’t say there was anything incorrect with your claim. You’re quite correct, actually. But I’m one of the few people in this area that actually believes that. And the Pure tend to get violent when opposed.”

Roman gasped. “I didn’t realize that things were that bad.”

Logan nodded, not turning to look at him. “If an Enhanced has any visible enhancements, it’s nearly impossible to walk down the street without getting harassed. And if one is getting beaten or even killed, people have learned that it’s best to turn a blind eye. Even if you’re also Pure, if you try and defend the Enhanced you’ll find yourself beaten within an inch of your life. And the royals don’t bat an eye at the loss of a few hundred Enhanced.” He held up the motor he was working on, nearly complete. “That’s why I do this. Even if I can’t stop the Enhanced from getting harmed, at least I can help them back up if they survive.”

Roman stayed silent for a long moment. Logan turned to look at him, and nearly flinched at the cold expression on Roman’s face. Logan was slightly shocked at the fact that Roman knew nothing about the violence against the enhanced. How sheltered would a child have to be to not even know about the people that are beaten out on the street?

Roman suddenly smiled. "Thank you for telling me that. It is quite apparent that I have much to learn." He then pulled an envelope out of his jacket. "The Enhanced are actually what I wished to discuss with you. My dear friend's leg was injured a few days ago. I was wondering if you could examine these photos and see if it is repairable. He's severely wounded in other areas from the attack, so he is currently on bed rest. I will pay any price, I just wish for him to walk again."

Logan took the envelope and grimaced when he opened it. It was filled with photos of the patient's leg. The leg was violet in color, with a giant gash running from the Achilles heel to the knee. Several wires were sticking out, and Logan noticed some serious dents around the ankle. "I'm afraid these photos do not provide enough detail. I will have to view the patient in person. If you could arrive tomorrow at sunrise, I will have everything ready for a thorough examination. I will not ask for any money until I have determined the extent of the damage. Does this sound acceptable?"

Roman nodded. "That sounds perfect! I will be here tomorrow to escort you to him." He bowed his head slightly. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Logan."

Logan smiled, bowing his head in return. "The pleasure was mine, Roman."

------------------------------------------------------------

Logan sighed as he popped the eye into its socket. "Janus, you need to stop antagonizing people."

Janus snorted as he moved his eye around. "Honestly, you make such a big deal out of things."

Logan frowned "One day you'll go out there and they won't let you come back alive. Being rich won't protect you forever."

Janus rolled his eyes. The mechanical eye glowed a little as he spoke. "Right, and pretending to be Pure will definitely protect you forever. Especially when you do nothing to hide your sympathy towards fellow Enhanced."

Logan winced. Janus had an internal enhancement that allowed him to taste lies and see when someone was hiding something. Janus had known since the first day he came in here that Logan was Enhanced. "Even so, at least I keep my head down. You need to be more careful."

Janus suddenly froze. Logan was about to ask what was wrong when Janus whispered. "You're lying."

Logan blinked. "What?"

Janus frowned. "Every time we talk, you say that you keep your head down. And every time before now, you've been telling the truth. But today you lied." His eyes widened. "What did you do?"

Logan blushed. "A Pure man walked in here asking for assistance in fixing his Enhanced friend's leg. I'm going with him to visit his friend tomorrow. His ideals were very similar to mine, and I will admit he was rather handsome."

Janus smirked. "So, what's his name? And should I be ready for a wedding anytime soon?"

Logan's blush grew. "We only met today. He's just my client, nothing more." He looked down at his glove, a sense of shame filling him. "I didn't even have the courage to tell him that I'm not Pure."

Janus scoffed. "You just told me that he sees the Enhanced and Pure as equals. And I'm sure he'll understand why you kept it a secret." He moved to lean over the worktable, resting his chin on his hand. "So, what's his name?"

Logan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "His name is Roman. He's very kind and charming. He also seemed to come from nobility or wealth, since he was essentially oblivious to the street violence."

Janus started staring at him again. Logan tried to figure out what he'd lied about before Janus turned towards the monitor on the workbench. He typed something too fast for Logan to read before the screen showed a head-only picture of Roman. "Is this your Roman?" Logan nodded, confused. Janus pressed a button and the image expanded to show Roman standing in front of a crowd. He wore a white suit with red and gold accents. A sword was sheathed on his side. But what grabbed Logan's attention was that crown on his head. "That is Prince Roman, first in line for the throne." He turned back to Logan. "And not only do you have a crush on him, you also promised to see him tomorrow."

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

Raise Your Voice Against Liars

By BeeTeeDubya14 & Naruwitch On Archive of Our Own

@thebigpapilio asked me if I accepted submissions and I do! This is a Miraculous + Persona 5 crossover, that they have been working on with their friend! While I don't actually know Persona 5, I read over the first chapter and found it very interesting! I thought for sure you'd all enjoy it as much as I did! So here is the first chapter! If you like it please go on to Archive of Our Own and give them some love!!

"We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin."

-Andre Berthiaume

Chapter 1: L'Interrogatoire

Sae leaned back, puzzled by what the prisoner just said, “So the Phantom Thieves only stole the heart of Futaba Sakura…? And Medjed was in turn defeated by her real-world hacking abilities…? Well, this does correlate to the facts as we know them…” 

Sae grew quiet, and her next sentence was mostly to herself, though she said it aloud. “If he’s telling the truth, then Wakaba Isshiki didn’t commit suicide… did a third party target her life with the goal of destroying her research? Wakaba’s death was two years ago… that also coincides with when the incidents started occurring… does this other Metaverse user that Madarame and Kaneshiro mentioned… really exist…?”

With a frown, she shook her head before turning her attention back to the captive, “Earlier I mentioned those psychotic breakdown incidents that have alarmed the public. All of a sudden, people will lose consciousness, or become violent… A situation as incomprehensible as that can’t be explained away as ‘troubled social conditions.’ I suspect that these cases are all connected to a larger, man-made plot. The method involved always muddled the explanation, but your story has virtually confirmed its viability. Although, I wouldn’t have expected a new criminal to come to light from your testimony…” Sae leaned closer to the prisoner, “What did your group think of this other Metaverse user?”

“You mean the true criminal?” he questioned.

Sae scoffed, “How self-centered of you. The Phantom Thieves tamper with people’s hearts without asking consent. How is that different?”

Sighing, Sae then continued to focus on the prisoner. “Well… no matter how you thought of them, there can be no doubting your resolve. Are those incidents because of you or someone else…? Either way, I will get to the bottom of this.”

Sae shook her head, and pulled out her briefcase again, “Now let’s move on to your next crime.” She pulled out a folder, just as she had the last four times and laid it in front of the teenager, “Lila Nikenna Rossi. An Italian student who was studying at Collège Françoise Dupont in Paris, France. This is the first known report of the Phantom Thieves targeting someone outside of Japan. Your testimony regarding this incident will be serious. I’m sure you understand why. Not only is she your first foreign target, but also the youngest target out of all that the Phantom Thieves have changed the heart of. Answer me carefully. Why did you go after her?”

Despite all the grogginess afflicting him, Akira Kurusu managed to faintly grin.

“We owed some good people a favor.”

Chapter 2: Wake up, Get up, Get Out (Of) There

"Are you sure you're going to be okay in Hawaii, Marinette?"

"Yes, Luka, I'll be fine," Marinette smiled as she pulled her luggage off the security belt.

"Remember, if you need to talk, at any time, please do it, okay? I don't care if it's 2 AM over here. If you need-"

"Luka, you're treating me like a child," Marinette said bluntly, but no heat was behind it.

The guitarist gasped on the other line, "No, no! That's not what I was implying, I just-"

Marinette giggled. That's one of the things she really liked about Luka. "That overprotective attitude isn't going to change anytime soon, is it?" That said, although there were times where he went a little overboard, he usually knew Marinette's limits. It seemed that he needed a small reminder before she departed for her flight, though.

Ever since Chloe's stunt as Miracle Queen, she and Luka had been dating steadily for several months. After Adrien had made it official with Kagami, Marinette struggled to move on and accept that it was better to simply be friends with the model. She, of course, didn't want to use the older Couffaine as a fallback guy, and she had made that clear to him shortly before they made it official too, but… Luka had been there for her when no one else was. She had been in a dark place, and there seemed to be no way out. But Luka provided the light she needed to find the exit.

As for Chloe herself? Well… once word got out about Hawkmoth's near victory, and Chloe's involvement with it, many citizens and even government officials spoke out against the mayor and other members of his staff for action to be taken. The incident with the metro tunnel was also brought up, as Chloe was never adequately punished for intentionally endangering so many people. Mayor Bourgeois, to appease the masses, was forced to send Chloe away to a boarding school in Sweden, at least until Hawkmoth was finally dealt with. That's where she'd been for the past five months, and Marinette hadn't heard from the blonde since.

She shook her head, ridding herself of such thoughts before they could fester. She was going to Hawaii for crying out loud! And she was going to have a blast! Nothing was going to change that. Not Hawkmoth, not Lila, and her lies, nothing would get in her way of having a fun time.

The thought of Hawkmoth had her hand subconsciously wander to her purse, where Tikki and Kaalki were situated. She was so lucky (heh, that would garner a laugh from Chat) that Kwamis didn't show up on cameras, much less on airport security x-rays machines. She would have had a field day trying to explain that to a security guard.

Luka gave a breathy laugh over the phone, "Sorry, a force of habit. Sorry I couldn't be there to see you or Jules off personally."

Marinette smiled. That had been the original plan, but as luck would have it, Luka got called in for an emergency shift by his boss at the very last minute, and there were no other people who could fill in.

"No problem, sometimes life happens like that. Although, even on vacation, Hawkmoth's Akumas always have the worst timing."

She could see Luka wincing on the other line, "Yeah, considering that Hawaii is practically on the opposite side of the world, it looks like you're in for some long nights. So sorry, babe."

She had the news app on high alert at all times, so the second an Akuma alert went up, she'd teleport back to Paris to deal with the Akuma as quickly as possible. She was grateful that Luka would be on standby with Sass as well, especially when Chat Noir alerted her that he would be out of town for the weekend as well.

"Yeah…"

"Marinette! We're about to board! Please come and join the class!" Mme. Bustier called from the boarding gate.

"Gotta go, Luka, I'll text you when we land in Tokyo!"

"Okay, be safe! Love you!"

"Love you too!"

There were, fortunately, no accidents or disruptions as Marinette boarded the plane and found her seat. After buckling up, Tikki and Kaalki poked their heads out of her little purse. The bag was small enough that Marinette wasn't required to put it under the seat, so long as it stayed flung over her shoulder. The little red Kwami winked at her holder, and Kaalki nodded. Marinette smiled at her little companions and pretended to listen to the flight attendant give the safety instructions.

It wasn't long before she watched from her window seat the plane take off from the tarmac. Once the pilot said they were at cruising altitude, Marinette pulled out her MP3 player and headphones and leaned back with a smile, the soft melody of Luka's guitar strings lulling her to sleep.

o~o

Marinette was awakened by the thump of the plane landing.

As she traversed the airport "with" her classmates (they were all hanging around Lila and leaving her alone), she noticed a pattern in the dress of many passersby, most of which were likely Japanese locals given that they were in Japan at the moment. Black & red seemed to be a common staple at this airport, more than occasionally accompanied by the words "Take Your Heart" and a weird logo of a domino mask and top hat. The words "Phantom Thieves" were sprawled across many of the logos too.

Marinette wanted to ask around as to what it all meant, but she didn't know a lick of Japanese and had places to be, so she moved on. She'd just look it up at the hotel.

She sent a quick text to Luka to let him know she'd arrived safely and was on her way to the hotel they'd be staying at for the night. Then she switched to the web, typing "Phantom Thieves" into the search engine. She found quite a few interesting things in a place called the "Phan-Site." There was apparently a group of vigilantes out there in Japan - Tokyo, specifically - calling themselves "The Phantom Thieves" with the power to "change people's hearts" (which seemed to mean making said people confess their crimes. How that worked, Marinette had no idea). So far, the Phantom Thieves had only taken down four major targets, their names, and information listed on the site. Marinette didn't recognize any of them, but when she typed up the names, she was immediately glad that these people had had "a change of heart."

The first, theorized to be the Thieves' very first target, was a man Suguru Kamoshida. He was apparently an Olympic volleyball medalist that taught at a high school called Shujin Academy. The Thieves targeted him because it was revealed that he was physically abusing and even sexually assaulting several students at the school. One of them even tried to commit suicide right in front of the student body because of it. Thankfully, this student survived their attempt. According to separate reports, the school was well aware of the abuse but didn't do a thing to stop it. Then, about a week after the suicide attempt, Kamoshida confessed to everything! The abuse, the assaults, everything.According to reports, it was like he was a completely different person, almost like his personality had changed entirely. He was now being held on bail and awaiting trial. Marinette hoped he went away forever!

The second person was a former artist named Ichiryusai Madarame. (Now that she thought about it, she could have sworn she saw his name on some art pieces at the Louvre for a limited time Japanese exhibit). He cultivated his own fame and fortune by sacrificing the livelihood of children. He took young artists into his home, a tiny shack, and then stole and plagiarized their work, passing it off as his own. Apparently, one of his victims was his own foster son. Just like with Kamoshida, Madarame, shortly after one of his exhibits closed, confessed to these crimes, his personality having shifted completely. Even though he seemed to show remorse, Marinette hoped he got what he deserved. This man reminded her too much of Bob Roth, especially when he stole Kitty Section's music and her costume designs.

Next was Junya Kaneshiro. This target was apparently what really allowed the Phantom Thieves' popularity to take off. He was a mafia boss that even the local authorities were struggling to arrest, even though his crimes were common knowledge in the Shibuya area. Then suddenly, he one day turned himself into the police. This one didn't have as much information. The police apparently tried to keep the arrest on the down-low due to the circumstances. The only reason the public found out the Phantom Thieves were involved was because of an abundance of calling cards that were scattered all over Shibuya. Kamoshida and Madarame had received similar cards before they confessed as well.

Finally, and this happened about a week ago, a group of international hackers, under the name Medjed, attempted a cyberwar against the Phantom Thieves and Japan itself. They threatened to ruin Japan's economy through a cyber attack unless the Phantom Thieves surrendered and revealed their identities to the public. They had set a deadline and everything. Then, the day before the deadline would have expired, the Phantom Thieves apparently stopped them, as Medjed's website was hacked with the Phantom Thief logo all over the webpage. Whether that was done by the Phantom Thieves themselves, or an avid supporter, no one knew, but Medjed was stopped, and Japan's economy remained stable.

Despite being vigilantes, Marinette genuinely believed the Phantom Thieves were helping the public overall by exposing corruption like this. Who knew what would still be happening if these people were still allowed to roam free? She didn't know how the Thieves convinced these people to confess their crimes and had no clue what "steal your heart" meant, though she had a feeling it wasn't something natural. Their actions seemed to be non-violent, though. None of their victims showed signs of physical injury or torture when they confessed. That was likely another reason the Phantom Thieves were receiving so much public support.

Marinette had learned a lot about destiny from Fu (it still hurt a little bit not referring to him as Master, even in her head), and the fact she was temporarily in the place where something this momentous, something this clearly magical was going on… she needed to look into this. But how? Nobody knew who the Phantom Thieves were, much less what they looked like! You could supposedly communicate with them via a proxy on the Phan-site, but no one has officially met any of them face-to-face. They seemed to be masters of blending into the crowd, not to mention the police weren't getting solid leads either.

What was even more confusing was that Tikki and Kaalki didn't know anything about this whole thing either.

"I've never heard of "changing people's hearts" in the way it's described here," Tikki admitted, referring to the Phan-Site.

"Hmm… maybe Ziggy knows something? She's the kwami of Imagination, so she's the one most connected to the mind," Kaalki suggested.

"Alright, I'll talk to Ziggy when we get back to Paris," Marinette nodded. She hoped the Goat Kwami had a possible answer.

"Hmmm… I wonder if Kagami knows anything about them," Marinette wondered aloud, glancing over at Alix, who was snoring in the bed next to hers. Surprisingly, Alix had volunteered to room with Marinette, which shocked her. She and Alix were friends, but not like how she and Alya used to be. Now that she thought about it, though, Alix may still listen to Lila's stories, but it seemed to be more out of politeness than actual interest now. If anything, for the last month or so, when Alix and Lila interacted, the skater just looked bored with the Italian. Could it be that the skater was catching onto Lie-la's lies?

Deciding to check if her theory had merit, Marinette sent a text to the fencer, asking if she had heard of the Phantom Thieves or not. She got a reply a few minutes later. Kagami had heard of them, but she didn't know much about them either. She and her mother had been living in Paris for about a year and a half, and the Phantom Thieves had only surfaced only a few months ago, so she didn't have much information apart from a few Japanese news articles and some online searches.

Marinette sighed and began to put her phone away when an Akuma alert blew up her screen.

"Perfect timing, Hawkmoth," she muttered sarcastically as she got up and tiptoed to the bathroom. She turned on the light to make it look like she was simply using the toilet before letting the two kwamis slip out of her purse, "Let's deal with this quickly! Tikki, spots on!"

One magical transformation later, Ladybug stood in all her glory in the tiny Tokyo bathroom. She quickly pulled out Kaalki's glasses and slipped them on. "Tikki, Kaalki, unify!"

o~o

It was about thirty minutes later that Ladybug (Lady Horseshoe with both Miraculous active) stepped back into the hotel bathroom. By the time that she had gotten to the actual fight, Luka, clothed as his new hero alias Kobra, had managed to corner the Akuma and figure out where the item was. One Lucky Charm later, and two shots of Second Chance, according to the snake hero, the Akuma was purified, and everything returned to normal in Paris.

She was also equally grateful that Kobra seemed calm after the fight ended. There had been fights in the past that had left the hero shaking, eyes wide with barely masked horror. One fight had him clinging to Ladybug afterward for about two minutes before she convinced him to let go of her. Even after that, it had taken the night being alone, lots of tears, and cuddling for Luka to finally calm down and accept that everything was okay.

During these moments was when Marinette was reminded that the Snake Miraculous was sometimes considered the most dangerous of the Miraculous. Not only did it make the holder a problematic opponent in combat, but the mental load it carried for the holder itself could take its toll over time. Luka had seen some things as both Viperion and Kobra, some that took more time to process and work through than others.

It had taken Luka a while to understand that he could talk to someone about what was going on. Due to his own family dynamics, and his selfless nature, Luka wasn't used to talking about his own problems, and usually preferred to work through them on his own. Over time though, this wore the guitarist down, to the point that he couldn't hide it anymore. This was one of the factors that convinced Marinette, as the Guardian, to make Luka a permanent holder. Sass had been an excellent help for Luka to process the many 'bad endings' he was forced to witness as part of his power. However, there were sometimes days where talking to the little kwami wasn't enough, which was why the couple had the rule of calling the other whenever they needed to speak. Even if it was in the middle of the night.

Other factors contributed to this decision too, but Marinette was too exhausted to dwell on them for now as she snuck out of the bathroom. To her relief, Alix was still asleep and seemed oblivious to what had happened.

After grabbing a macaroon for Tikki and a sugar cube for Kaalki (both of which she picked up in Paris), Marinette quickly climbed into her own bed and was asleep within seconds.

[matsumi101]

For the promts, maybe 367 with Maria Reynolds, modern au?

367. “I didn’t think love existed until I started loving you”

Notes:

> Reader x Maria Reynolds Modern AU

> Anon i love u for this do u know how giddy i am when i wrote the last part hnngh

> Fem!Reader I hope u guys don’t mind some (not so) wholesome lesbeans

> WIFI ANG GOOGLE DOCS HAS BEEN AN ASS IVE BEEN TRYING TO FIX THE ONESHOT BC IT KEPT GETTING PASTED OUT OF ORDER HNNGH

Type: fluff

Warnings: domestic abuse mention, implied sex

-------------------

“Your Honor, the members of the jury find the defendant... guilty.”

You gave a low whistle while the Judge gave the final words, putting up a hand to return your co-counsel’s high-five without even having to look at him. Your smug grin never left your face even after the court was adjourned, only breaking into a more hyper celebration once you were out of the building.

“Fuck yeah, we deserve to celebrate!”

You laughed in agreement. “I couldn’t have pulled this off without you, Alex,” you sighed. Alexander simpered, taking the compliment very well. “Well, what can I say? I’m always up for the challenging ones.” He shrugged his shoulders, pride oozing out of his presence. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were an excellent public attorney par with even Alexander Hamilton himself, but this case had you on your toes for months, even with Alexander’s help, and the outcome was well worth the sleepless nights you shared with your friend.

The topic returned to the celebration. “We should invite everyone to me and Eliza’s place and throw a party because damn we deserve it,” Alexander suggested. You hummed thoughtfully at his offer for a bit before responding. “I’d love that, but can we move that a little later? I wanna celebrate alone with Maria, first,” you pointed out. Alexander pulled an all too knowing smirk, to which you rolled your eyes at.

“I haven’t given her much attention ever since this case came, and I’m sure Eliza’s in the same situation. Our own partners deserve to be pampered after all of this, don’t you think?”

“My Eliza’s fine-”

“Hamilton.”

You crossed your arms and raised a brow at your friend. “Let Eliza share the victory with you, I’m sure she’d be thrilled to listen about how your hard work paid off,” you reasoned out. “And besides, it’s the closest I’ll get to apologizing for stealing you away from her for months.” Alexander laughed at that, getting your point. He pulled out his phone, most likely to share the great news to his fiancé.

“Let’s have the big celebration next weekend, yeah?”

You could tell from the eagerness in his voice that he was excited to come home and spend time with Eliza. “Perfect,” you agreed. You were about to bid farewell, but Alexander was already in call with Eliza and chatting away with unprecedented joy. You chuckled at him and went to your car, dialing a number while you started the engine. It rang a few times before it was picked up.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Washington! Is Maria Reynolds still at work?”

“Oh, Miss Y/N! It’s always a pleasure to talk to you.”

You smiled at this. Martha had always been a caring boss, which is why you recommended Maria to her business when she was looking for a new job. You placed your phone on the holder at the dashboard and set it to speaker while you pulled out of the parking lot. “Maria’s still here, why’d you ask?” Martha asked sweetly. Your smile grew into a more excited one, your plans already playing out in your mind.

“Well you see, I plan to surprise her tonight with her favorite food because I won what probably is my biggest case to date.” Martha gasped and gave you a quick congratulations. “But I still have to buy the things I need. Can you stall her for me? I just need an extra two hours.”

There was a thoughtful pause at the other end of the line. You took your eyes off the road for a split second to check if the call was still ongoing, which it was. “Dear, as romantic as your plan sounds, I don’t think Maria would like being cooped up here for so long,” Martha sighed. “She’s been stressed for the past months, and I don’t think she’s taking your disappearance so well lately, to top off the work she needs to finish today...” Your heart sank at the information. Yes, you were more than aware that you’d been neglecting Maria over the case, more than you’d like, and even if she was understanding enough that you needed to prioritize your slowly rising career, you knew there were unavoidable insecurities that followed her wake.

“I’m going to make it up to her,” you replied, voice steady. “I’m going to smother her with attention for the weeks to come ‘til she gets sick of me.”

Martha laughed heartily at your determination. “So please, can you help me out and give me two hours? I promise It’ll all be worth it,” you pleaded. It didn’t take as long for Martha to answer. “Okay, but I want to see Maria coming to work next Tuesday with an honest smile. I miss seeing her so positive.” You beamed gratefully, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re giving her a long weekend off?” you asked almost too happily.

“Aside from letting her spend time with her favorite woman, I’m sure she deserves the rest for working so hard the past months.”

“Oh Martha, thank you so much! I owe you a lot.”

Any semblance of formalities melted away. “Oh dear, you know I’m a sucker for romantic gestures! I’ll make sure she tells me everything about your night when she gets back to work,” she teased. You giggled, excitement crawling up your body by the minute. You ended the call and finished your groceries as fast as you could, and by the time you got back to your shared apartment the sun was just starting to set. Perfect, you thought. You had more time than anticipated, but you were sure to utilize every second and got to work.

After a dragging day at work, Maria finally found her way back home. She was stuck in the office for a good two hours past her supposed time out due to Martha’s unexpected request to finish some extra paperwork. She would’ve declined it, but the offer of getting a paid day off in return was too good to miss out that even an extra hour long traffic didn’t stop her. She was far too exhausted, both mental and physical, to think of anything else but to crash into the soft sheets of her bed despite her empty stomach begging to be filled up. When she got to her apartment’s door, however, she couldn’t help but stop and look at it.

She didn’t know that today was the day you’d bring the case to the court one last time for a verdict, so all she expected was to come home to an empty apartment, and despite everything still in the same place it felt more barren the past few months. And yet, as she unlocked the door and flicked the lights on, she was greeted with not only a noticeably cleaner living room but also a delectable smell wafting through her nose. It caused her stomach to growl again, and with the new smell filling the place she dropped her bag and headed to the kitchen.

“You’re home!”

Maria’s eyes popped out at the sight. There you were in your sweatpants and loose shirt, sitting across the table with your hand resting atop your intertwined fingers. A large grin splayed across your face, which grew even wider at the sight of her. The table was set up with two plates, a bottle of wine and whiskey (a strange combo, Maria thought), about three dishes, and a bowl of soup accompanied by a smaller bowl of croutons. The food before her was definitely made presentable, and if Maria wasn’t too occupied gawking (and maybe drooling a little) she would’ve pointed out how your outfit didn’t even match up to the setting.

“We won the case,” you told her, your voice laced with softness and excitement.

Maria had to compose herself just enough to answer. “Really?” she squeaked out. She was happy beyond words, both for your success and you finally being there to greet her home for once and having done this seemingly large dinner after months of surviving on leftovers in the fridge and take-outs. You nodded, watching her expression with a smile, but it quickly dropped when you saw her starting to cry. Alarmed, you got off your seat and pulled her to a tight embrace, to which she eagerly returned, taking in the faint scent of the soap you used for your bath. You planted a long kiss on the crown of her head, and the gesture only seemed to make her cry more.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

And there she poured everything out. She missed coming home to your arms every night, but ever since the case you were always either gone in the office at work or holed up in the one at home. The thought made her disappointed, and maybe with a twinge of anger and paranoia, but she had to hold it back. She knew how much work meant to you, and she admired how passionate you were for it. She tried her best not to think too much of it, but the fear of you growing cold towards her scared her to no end, admitting that the effects of her past relationship with James was still affecting her.

You didn’t speak the whole time and let Maria vent it out until she reduced into quiet sobs. You kissed her forehead before pulling away from the hug so you could meet her eye to eye. “I know I’ve been so busy, which is why I’m going to make up for it,” you whispered soothingly. You cupped her face and gently wiped the tears away with your thumbs, and you could see a smile slowly grace her lips that made your heart melt. You then peppered her with short, sweet kisses all over her face, which made her giggle and squirm.

“I missed you so much, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, but I’m not going to let you have dinner with such an uncomfortable outfit.”

Maria followed your eyes to her office attire. “I drew you a hot bath just a few minutes ago, with lots of lavender from our mini garden,” you told her softly, pulling her by the waist and kissing her cheek. Gosh, you missed her so much. Maria sighed as you nuzzled your face on the crook of her neck, already imagining the beautiful smell of the bathroom awaiting her. Unfortunately, she had to pull away from the hug so she could actually get there.

After Maria took her time in a relaxing bath and changed to her own comfortable clothes, you two spent the night together, savoring the full course dinner you made with both of your favorite foods and hers, then surprising her with strawberry mousse, her favorite, for dessert. After that, and an empty bottle of wine, you two went to the couch to cuddle and watch a movie together. Though the film on the television was soon forgotten when you kept on showering Maria with kisses and compliments. Even if she asked you to stop since she genuinely wanted to watch the movie, you only replied to her with,

“Nah, I’m going to spoil you the whole weekend, and for the following weeks to come.”

And you did just that. Your attention was all on Maria day and night, and her heart could never feel so full at the sight of you. You took care of her and she took care of you, too. Of course you respected her boundaries and remained gentle with how you held her, but she knew that with you she was safe. Her initial fears of abandonment were soon thrown out the window. Maria trusted you more than ever, and you made sure to show her that she would never regret that choice.

Maria sighed wistfully, stroking your hair as she stared at the wall. The heavy drapes were drawn shut, preventing the moonlight from entering the dark bedroom. You were nestled on her bare chest, sleeping soundly while you had your arms wrapped protectively around her waist. A smile adorned your lips, and Maria took notice of it when she looked down at you.

You were at peace, contrast to the tired and frustrated expression you constantly seemed to wear while you were working the past months. Your breaths were slow and relaxed, making Maria hold a smile of her own as she studied your features. She brought a hand to your face, and you subconsciously leaned against her touch. She caressed your cheek with a thumb, her gaze trailing over to the bags under your eyes. Without your makeup, it looked much worse, but Maria didn’t care. She loved everything about you, even those eyebags that carried all the success you worked for, and she never felt luckier for having such a caring and passionate girlfriend as you.

“Oh Y/N,” Maria sighed for the nth time that night. “I didn’t think love existed until I started loving you.”

You barely stifled your amused chuckle, making Maria jump slightly at the vibration. “I’m glad to be the one to make you realize that,” you murmured, opening your eyes and ignoring the noise of surprise that she made when you let it be known that you were still awake. You shifted so that you could fully look at Maria. It was dark, but you could still make out her wide eyes that slowly softened. Her hand was still pressed to your face, so you put your own on top of it and moved to gently kiss her palm.

“And you deserve every bit of love, sweetheart.”

The way you said it so sincerely just made Maria absolutely melt, even more so when you pulled up to give her a long, tender kiss. Her hands wandered you, fingers trailing the marks she left on your skin before a hand made its way to your bare back while the other tangled on your already messy hair. When you backed away to breathe, you gave Maria one last peck on the lips before lying on her side and pulling her close.

“You know babe, seeing you like this makes me want to look forward to more of your difficult cases.” Maria laughed when you tiredly groaned in annoyance.

“No. If the next one is anything like the last I’m shoving it to either Alexander or Jefferson. I missed you too much.”

[captainkurosolaire]

金 LFRP - Captain Kuro Solaire (Updated 5/2/21)

NAME: Captain Kuro Solaire AGE: 37 (Appears 29) - (’Relic Cursed’ Immortal, not Invincible.) RACE: Seeker of the Sun, Miqo’te GENDER: Male SEXUALITY: Gynephilla, Dom MARITAL STATUS: Poly SERVER: Crystal

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ––––

HAIR: A slick jet black texture, Kuro’s hair is majority of the time unkempt with downward spikes often cascading across sometimes when grown-out it’s placed in a bandana and combed on the sides. Under rare occurrences the length of his hair can be lower then his shoulders and without being straightened leaving a shaggy and feral look. Often sporting an accompanied goatee through more veteran experience and grizzly age has extended that further with a stubble to boot and long sideburns.

EYES: One eye is often left visible with an amber tint. (Typically while the other eye lays remained behind an eye-patch for a particular reason that is usually left in speculation to other onlookers.)

HEIGHT: 6 fulms, 0 ilms. 

BUILD: (Trains and adjusts his mass depending on situation or if injured.) Typically built like an ultimate fighter (ref) 

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Scattered scars from a gash hidden underneath a leather collar from his first defeat and near end. To followed historical injuries to dragon claws swiped across his hip to rib nearing his chiseled abs, to lance wounds on his pec, bite-mark from a fanged creature adorned on his shoulder. Scratch marks from passion on his back. To matching fiendish talons shredding the opposing side of his rib-cage. With a gashed-cut draped across his right-eye. Lastly an X incision on his chest crossing over his upper-torso and halting near his shoulders to his pecs. -- Additionally donned the cheek scar of his first that he had cast away due to old insecurity and trauma which was resolved. He’s got a tattoo on his forearm of runic engravings with summoner lettering’s that seem to be serving as a seal. Compass on his left-hand to prevent him losing memories of being a sailor that points in all four-directions. The south-seas etched above crossing over his bicep. Behind his back is a Goldbrand Crest a forgotten ritual that has since been lost among the GB Crew as little carry it left but two-survivors. He’s often shirtless for all to see. (Gives him that unrestricted feeling Miqo’tes like plus has meaning to him.)

COMMON ACCESSORIES: Talisman across his neck that has several link-pearls attached to a string with a condor feather which represents ‘freedom’, the pearls mainly allow him to keep in-contact with crew-mates and a bundle of criminal orientated allies or business associates. A combat satchel attached to his belt that allows him quick accessibility and utility. Owns a signature tricorne hat that is leather matching his often outfit of black leather which serves to highlight his seen mysterious and imposing scoundrel aesthetic.

PERSONAL –––-

PROFESSION: Captain of the Goldbrand, navigation, commanding, claiming panties all over Eorzea and providing pleasure where others need the lesson or reminder. Along with a thief, smuggler, diplomat and a veteran sailor. He’s also a chaser of treasure from old relics to folktales passed on in Legends through very little evidence of the existences but scrolls & charts that he reads and plans out accordingly before attempting his plunder for fortune.

HOBBIES: Drinking, Ocarina, Women, Pleasure, More Pleasure, Even more Pleasure, Entertainment (Former Pleasure Dome worker as a Dancer and Escort.) Juggling, Acrobatics, Jury-rigging, Swimming, Teaching, Training, Mentor, Fighting, Fishing, Brawling, Working out. Exploring. Adventuring. Landing into dangerous situations.

LANGUAGES:  Fluent (Mostly) Eorzean, Xaelic, and Hingan, Pirate Tongue. (Working on venturing past his horizon to open trades and communications with beast-tribes for business escapades or other relationships.)

RESIDENCE: Ul’dah

FEARS: None. (Backstory behind that) He’s not immune to psychological attacks and is prone to them.

RELATIONSHIPS –––-

SPOUSES: Failed many.

CHILDREN: Bastard children all around who knows you might be one. He’s often out there being ever the man-whore and shameless about the fact.

PARENTS: Hoku Solaire (Father - Alive) - (PC) Rokeia Solaire (Mother - Deceased giving birth to Kuro Solaire)

SIBLINGS: Unknown but Father was a former Nunh of a branch in the Coeurl Tribe, there’s more room to make some. (Has ancestors in an upcoming arc been polishing.)

OTHER RELATIVES: Many unknown. Though Sol Akagane / Founding GB Captain Gark would be considered along with his OG Crew as Family in a more surrogate / adoption style way. Wild Crew.

PETS: Which kind you wondering?

TRAITS –––-

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganized / organized / in between

close minded / open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic / unemphatic / in between

optimistic / pessimistic / in between

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between

faithful / unfaithful / in between

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION –––-

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

@mooglemeet @crystal-rp-ffxiv​ @balmungrp​ @ffxiv-crystal-rp​ @balmungroleplayers-blog​

HOOKS + OOCLY, I AM –––– (Below cut)

HOOKS –––-

◘  Mystical Journey - Meet Captain who’s rebuilding towards something on a scale higher than the skies that’s far beyond himself. Whether friendships forged, romantic, rival, or outright enemy. Open to plot about just anything whether one-shot, or slice of life. Each confrontation and connection is impactful and holds weight that determines and shapes him, his source of power by himself is extremely low but the wind and orbit of who he’s surrounded swells and creates upon him alongside them or with that fact, he may overcame the impossible multiple times, even his goal of deemed ultimus. He’s lustful, prideful, sinful. Though there’s good in his scoundrel ways and also freely can be interpreted as evil against the pure heart. From descendants to nearly wherever sea’s may touch he can be found voyaging too or from. Depending on the City-State there’s more mystery surrounding him due to him trying to remain under the radar but he’s also pretty brash, open, which can net him in infinite chaos and trouble. This dark and often cursed seemingly lifestyle he’s thrown under sometimes he also needs to be in the company of innocent and light, peaceful individuals. To remain humane and stay on track of him straying from being the problem. Many lives have died under his company, many lessons and time’s he’s ‘wrecked’’ the smallest and few encounters overall tally and aid him with building his compassionate side to see those people again. ◘  Scourges - The worst of the worst pirate crew’s. They command various levels of commandment, control, conquering all that is blue and water-bound. Each hold their own vendetta and thoughts on what being a pirate or their own treasure ‘sake’ they wish to lay ownership. Ongoing and tackling these threats with Captain holds mighty risk. (Subject to your comfort) In this case it can result in injuries, mental trauma, or many afflictions that may provide more experience to your character or layers. - There are no clear solutions on how to defeat, overcome, or maybe it’s just an encounter with a band of Crewmates from the varying Crews, that’ll overall build steps closer to final battles or all-out Warfare or cripple these Crew’s to make him able to defeat them with his Wild Crew. ◘  Ulterior - (Mystery/+18Dark ) - A cultist crew held from marshy swamped seas, polluted and tainted. They blur webs of confusion alongside deceit. Operating in the blends of guises that shadowy walk in public crowds they don’t distinguish themselves. The pressure of this arc will be dark, twisted, and every foreboding, never certain what’s reality. Vastly in concern, they’ve begun becoming more bold and manipulating brave pirate’s, adventures, would-be sea goers who get reported missing soon afterwards. Only to be converted and abducted into this Cultist crew as nearly every encounter with them as they eat and feast off your fears turn’s their targets into belief of a high power, a mad god under all fleshing skin. Visited during nightmares. ◘  OMONGA - (Bloody/Violent +18 Extremely Dark) - This Scourge crew is one of the most dangerous altogether. They’re primitive freaks, viking pirates of sorts. Who outright raid, pillage, slaughter anything that moves approaching their territory. A force unlike any other, a dominating and deathly, blight of a Giant who strike’s fear just mentioned by pirate’s of old, stays clear from him and often plays nice to prevent gaining his wrath or detection, better to submit. YORE of the Gorey Seas is their Captain who destructively holds gatekeeper and one force that Maelstrom even cannot overcome their brute waters as they stay stationary and defensive, he’s not too mobile beyond his ‘Nation’  but his crew are savages and they operate like the fiercest warmongers, also they’ve got berserkers. Used to be known wanted but after many bounty hunters and foolish adventurers tried taking his life and the failures stacked up, using the defeated and weak for soil for harvesting their crops, and even their own fleets could bypass their engineering he remained untouchable. Sort of a necessary bridge from one individual owning all the seas altogether. They’ve a whole hierarchy, torture system, culture, that is ultra barbaric. He’ll need additional power to help him have a chance to survive and maintain more importantly the lives of his Crew. This is his last chance to get it all right. (There’s more too but I’ll save them unless asked or somehow the other’s become dealt with or too full.) ◘  Wanted: Deadman - (Suspenseful / Thriller / Mystery) - Recently Captain had resurfaced from death making advancements and pursuits only identifiable as his motives. Maelstrom and other officials, detectives, could be working alongside a set of Law characters that I’ve created also trying to seize and capture him for not just a hefty bounty it’s an instant hanging to death and gallows if he’s caught this time. Or a huge payout. He’s stacked multiplied crimes of indecencies, broken peace, slandered Maelstrom, stolen, scammed, rebelled for Freedom, liberated and uncovered crimes against city-state laws, he’s an outright menace to society. Though Captain and his Crew are crafty and now alongside his First Crewmate are covering his tracks desperately to prevent him from being heard again. Though if Captain succeeds in claiming or ‘Goldbrand’’ regains recognition and infamy again over the high-seas whether by gaining influence, relics, or defeating Scourges and creating more noise. He’ll be even more on the run. His Crew are accessories so capturing them may be enough to draw him out or still provide information and payouts. If he’s noted to still be breathing a full on world bounty can be placed to only increase the odds stacked against his time. (Also wanted by Voidals and anything relating to a Scourge. His enemies are highly stacked but he’s got some incredible reach and allies, people he genuinely loves and cannot be anything without them.) ◘  Isle RP - (High Fantasy / Evolving) - Various Isle’s can be visited, linked and tether to a Crewmate’s personal quest. Or maybe Fables. Each Isle has its own unique dangers and is creatively open to any adapting once the base concept is thought out. I have multiple in mind. Some of them have treasures, others have temporary treasures once the threat on each Isle is dealt with the treasure may be spent. Those things might be non useful, so the experience and journey alone may be the only reward. Or surviving and wreckage etc can also occur, it's all open to free-form.

◘  Relic Hunt - (High Fantasy / Evolving ) - (Reference) - Captain’s crew and trade is being a professional treasure hunter diver. Searching and uncovering ancient tablets and thing’s long forgotten past time itself from allagan, mhachi, amdapori and other mythological natures. From Voidal Relics to the series of Deity Relic’s there remains ruins and dungeons, trials, labyrinths, that possess unique items with governed power imbued from primals, high aetherial beings, or prototypes to strange works of magic and science. Depending on the Relic often determines how desperately Captain seeks to net it under his awareness than allow another to uncover as rival band’s of Scourges and pirate crew also would chase for such and want to use it for dominion and nefarious reasonings. Sometimes they’ll already possess said Relic’s and be threats to battle for the property. Which in that case it’s plundering.time. Depending what Relic is conversed around it could be difficult puzzles, or trials, or something more tame to fetch. If another Historian or someone he believes would preserve the item, safer than within his stead, he’ll only aid in retrieving and less on acquiring. Better the relic stay’s far from his lurking dangers that already pursue his waters.

◘  Crew / No Crew - (Optional Addon) - Can choose whether you wish me to RP the other Crewmates and have them interact with your character / characters or bring multi-muses too. Each Crewmate or the main 13 have their own quests, narratives, their own motives of why they’re even following Captain, but they can betray, be broken, all them will act very realistic and lifelike, so they can be romanced etc too. Captain would go to world’s end for them. Make no mistake, this is his Last Crew and shot, he’s on the thinnest surface of water. Soon the mightiest tides will crash and collide against him and his Worldly Finder, his ship, if he’s unable to reign them or lead them to aid their own morale's then he’ll have no chance in getting to the end of his own quest, goal. Each scourge, relic, everything is an obstacle and aiming for something grand.

Alternatively, I can just RP Captain himself and vaguely mention anything else regarding. Might also gain allies, other crewmates, other things that’ll play parts depending on the arc.

Writing is my lifeblood I enjoy stories.

Overly chill and outspoken along with communication my prime focus. I human so I break down and have to recuperate my energy and health sometimes. Not into drama outside RP.

I Para-RP but do nearly ever format and style.

I’m open to plot within any genre.

24/7 Nerd. +18 year RP experience all around from LARPing, Dungeon Master /  Former event runner /  Former Owner / Leader for Discords and Linkshells / Tabletop Creator. There’s nothing I cannot do.

I’m CST. Though chronic-deteriorating health makes my hours rando. I prefer Discord RP. (Tumblr too sometimes if have an idea.) In-game I can be swayed. ◘  ~ This all long but trying to be communicative and thorough upfront. A necessary evil, I fear.

YOU CAN CONTACT ME VIA ––

Twitter - Captain Kuro Solaire

Tumblr - I try to follow everyone in FFXIV Community so should be able to DM me.

Discord: Kuro Solaire#0508

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[bopinion]

Book of the month / 2020 / 12 December

I love books. Even though I hardly read any. Because my library is more like a collection of tomes, coffee-table books, limited editions... in short: books in which not "only" the content counts, but also the editorial performance, the presentation, the curating of the topic - the book as a total work of art itself.

Formula 1 - The golden age & The roaring 70s

Rainer W. Schlegelmilch

Photo documentary / 2010 & 2011 / Teneues publishing house

"Gentlemen, please start your engines!". There is women's boxing, girl's football and a female wrestling association. Only where it smells of gasoline, rubber and sweat are the men still largely among themselves: in motor sports. With the exception of the successful rally driver Michèle Mouton at the beginning of the 1980s, it remained with episodes and PR stunts; an entire sports segment was and is apparently a male domain. And in it, Formula 1 is considered the supreme discipline.

The heroes of the scene are known even to most people who have no interest whatsoever in fast cars: Juan Manuel Fangio, Jackie Stewart, Graham Hill, Emerson Fitipaldi.... Later James Hunt, Niki Lauda, Alain Prost, Nigel Mansell, Nelson Piquet, Ayrton Senna... Then Michael Schuhmacher, Mika Häkkinen, David Coulthard, Juan Pablo Montoya... And lastly Fernando Alonso, Kimi Raikkonen, Sebastian Vettel, Lewis Hamilton.... And then, of course, the racetracks: The street circuit in Monaco, the green hell of the Nürburgring in the Eifel, Le Mans, Monza, Silverstone - everyone knows them. On the other hand, have you ever heard of Bahrain or Baku before Formula 1 stopped there?

Since the early 1980s, Bernie Ecclestone has been "professionalizing" Formula 1. Some say he created above all a money-printing machine and subjugated everything to (his own) economic goals. But already in the 60s and 70s there was the "racing circus", the Grands Prix became more present in the media, the fan base bigger and more passionate, hundreds of thousands made pilgrimages to the races and millions to the newsstand.

This was also the beginning of the great era of Rainer W. Schlegelmilch. What Neil Leifer was to boxing at that time, Schlegelmilch was to Formula 1: the documentarian with the camera, the outsider who knew the scene inside out, the archivist of the industry. He was present at over 600 Grands Prix around the world - and meticulously documented them. With around 470,000 slides or digital color photos (since 2004) and around 15,000 black-and-white photos, he has one of the largest archives on Formula 1.

Rainer W. Schlegelmilch was born in Suhl (Thuringia) in 1941. After graduating from high school in Frankfurt am Main, he went to Munich and learned the photographic basics at the Bavarian Institute for Photography. In his final exam in 1962, he already portrayed various racing drivers who took part in the 1000 km race at the Nürburgring. Shortly thereafter, he attended his first Formula 1 Grand Prix in Spa-Francorchamps (Belgium). The beginning of a passion. Example: Since 1975 he visited the Monaco Grand Prix every year and always photographed at the same spot as well as from the same angle. The spot is called by insiders ″Schlegelmilch curve″. Deservedly so.

The TeNeues publishing group from Kempen in North Rhine-Westphalia was founded in 1931 and is now in its third generation of family management. In addition to stationery products, the company specialized in picture calendars at an early stage and thus almost automatically ended up with art and photography. Industry giants such as Bruce Weber, Michael Poliza and Robert Mapplethorpe published magnificent works with the publishing house - as did Schlegelmilch with his two illustrated books "The Golden Age of Formula 1" and "Formula 1 - The Roaring 70s".

The first volume "The Golden Age of Formula 1" brings the wild years back to life. Smoking drivers, smoking tires, smoking burnt-out race cars - 50 years ago, Formula 1 was not a clinically pure high-tech business, but a risky full-gas spectacle. And this book brings those wild years back to life. What was actually different about Formula 1 in the sixties than it is today? Everything. Schlegelmilch's photos document the birth of a sport that today thrills millions worldwide. Daredevil heroes in their speeding crates - actually, that's what you'd have to say about Formula 1 in the 1960s. The early heroes of Formula 1 were always (or usually) on the road with a guardian angel, today's safety measures pure utopia. Heroes were born, tragedies survived, legends established. Schlegelmilch sets up nothing less than a monument to these foolhardy days of motorsport. This homage to gasoline is a book that not only documents. Beyond pure sports photography, it shows the zeitgeist of this era.

With the second volume, "Formula 1 - The Roaring 70s," Schlegelmilch continues his mission. The style changes slightly - clearly: the pictures are now in color. The ambition remains, the atmosphere is captured perfectly. And the master lives up to the bar he has set himself. The colorful pictures also have a mysterious and exciting patina, transporting the viewer to a time that was still light years away from the professionalism of the current Formula 1, yet has its own charm. Autobild Sportscars wrote about it after the publication in 2011: "The legendary photographer beams the viewer into an exciting world full of great guys, beautiful women and brutal bolides. Not only for nostalgics to kneel down beautiful." There's nothing left to add to that.

"His unique style of documenting racing and Formula 1 for over 55 years has made him the top reference in the business," says Zak Brown. As head of McLaren Racing and managing director of the Motorsport Network, the man knows what he's talking about. In 2011, Schlegelmilch was honored at Monza with a lifetime press photographer's pass. From the hands of Bernie Ecclestone - a handshake over decades.

P.S.: When my nephew drove a few years ago in cart races and was ultimately successful in the German championship, the most serious competition was - of course - a young lady. Times are changing. For good.

Here is the link to the website of Rainer W. Schlegelmilch

https://www.schlegelmilch.com

And here a clip announcing the inclusion of Schlegelmilch's archive at Getty Images

https://youtu.be/kArck9BwTRE