#i like them for when its windy out for the same reason. other items that have the same clips on voth sides dont usually work because the

[perceivedgodliness]

trying to wear most headpieces when you have tourettes is so difficult oh my god

[mrs-hatake]

here comes the bride: chapter one

pairings: levi x female!reader + minor zeke x female!reader.

genre: alternate universe, illegal car racing, suggestive themes, arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, slow burn, falling in love, eventual smut, heavy make out sessions, hurt/comfort & fluff.

Prologue

A/N: aaannnddd we're back!!apologize for the delay but I've been super busy with japanese and suffered from a writer's block but we're here now so it's all good!

a huuuuggee thank you for my tumblr friend @petrichor-writes for brainstorming and proof reading this chapter :(

trigger warning at the end for a traumatic reaction due to the loss of a loved one.

this fic can be found on ao3 under copycatshinobi

“I can’t believe she’s doing it at a hospital of all places.”

“I think it’s nice of her to be so considerate.”

“Still, I can’t believe she’s doing it here.”

Y/N ignores the hushed whispers as she gracefully makes her way to her mother’s private suite.

It’s not like she isn’t aware of what they were talking about. Everyone working at the hospital has gotten wind of the spontaneous wedding occurring today in one of their few V.I.P rooms. And, frankly, Y/N doesn’t blame them. It isn’t unheard of nor is it uncommon for people to get married at weddings but to arrive at the hospital in a wedding gown while her groom, the priest and her family are all waiting for her in her mother’s quarters.

If the roles were reversed and Y/N was working at the hospital while some rich heiress was going to get married, she would probably be gossiping with her colleagues as well. She might even feel empathetic towards the girl if she discovered the truth behind her marriage.

Y/N glances down at her wedding dress.

She is wearing a pearl white sweetheart cut wedding dress with tiny specks of diamond embedded into the bodice of the dress. The dress is maxi in length and hugs her snugly, accentuating all of her curves. The train of her wedding dress is held by one of the nurses attending to her mother so that it will not stain. Not that the hospital floors are dirty, this is one of the most prestigious and expensive hospitals money can admit you in, nothing but the best for mother, so it is unfathomable for it to be dirty. Nonetheless, it is still a hospital and anything could happen.

Her make-up is minimalistic yet simple and it highlights her natural beauty, making her pleasing to the eyes.

Outwardly, she appears calm, collected and elegant but her heart is beating erratically, badum badum badum it goes, louder than any drum heard in a rock song. Her palms are sweaty and if she releases the colorful bouquet, sweat stains will be seen on the wrapping.

She is shaking like a leaf threatening to fall on a windy autumn day. Her throat is so dry that she wouldn't feel hydrated if she chugged a whole gallon of water. She feels lightheaded, as if walking on clouds and her stomach churns with the threat of unleashing all of its contents of buttered toast and milk upon her beautiful dress.

Click, click, click, goes her high heels, in perfect harmony with her booming heart and they both stop when she reaches the door to room seven seven zero two.

Y/N closes her eyes and inhales shaky puffs of air with great difficulty. The comforting hand on her shoulder from the nurse accompanying her goes unnoticed by her as it does nothing to ease her nervousness. A fleeting thought goes through her mind, she could turn around and she would run, lungs on fire, to the safety of her bedroom and would magically travel back in time to when she was a child. Her mother is healthy and Y/N’s existence is unchained.

Badum, badum, badum, badum and the door handle is twisted downwards.

-

When Levi was informed by his father that he is to be wed to  the chairman’s oldest daughter and the heiress of Hoken, their partnering company for the past twenty five years, he felt conflicted.

Levi had been infatuated with Y/N since the day their fathers had introduced them to one another. The world around him melted, only Y/N appeared in the blank void he was floating in. She had a charming smile on her pink lips that made Levi’s ears heat up in embarrassment.

With time, he had noticed Y/N personality despite their brief interactions. She is polite, soft spoken yet confident and detrimental. She isn’t scared to back down from an argument yet never once did she seem rude with her eloquent vernacular.

Achingly, Levi is reminded of his mother back in her prime. When she ran Sicherheit , the insurance company his father is currently in charge of. He doesn’t remember much of his mother as she had been taken away from them in a tragic accident, what Levi does remember, is her fiery spirit whenever he had the opportunity to visit her at work. Though, unlike his mom, Y/N seemed tamer in comparison, kinder. However, that only peaked his interest in wanting to get to know her and see what she is truly like.

This is where Levi’s conundrum comes in. He wished he would form a relationship with Y/N through traditional practices; being friendly with each other, sharing contact information, going on dates until they slowly fall deeper and deeper in love, so deep it feels like they’re falling to the cold and dark abyss, though, it’s not cold and it’s not dark, for on the other side, is the most beautiful place they’d ever witness, a place built from their love.

However, after listening to his father’s explanation of this instantaneous wedding, Levi understands that he does not own the privilege to live out his fanciful daydreams. Levi must carry out the duties as the acting CEO of his retired father until he fully inherits the company through the merging of the two companies by marrying Y/N.  His heart bleeds for Y/N, he knows the chairman’s wife is a beloved woman who is cherished by her two daughters. And Levi is quite familiar with the pain of losing one’s own mother.

Still, regardless of the order of how they came to be, be it in the traditional route of them flirting, dating and then finally falling in love or skipping all of the steps, Levi can’t say that he isn’t pleased with this spontaneous wedding as he will be marrying Y/N, the woman he had been infatuated with for two years.

Y/N is ethereal, is what his brain screams at him as she steps into the private suite in nude colored six inch heels and a long wedding gown. Levi’s eyes are instantly drawn to her shoulder length hair which she has it in a semi-up hairdo; one half is pulled up and the second half cascades down her shoulder blades in elegant waves, two locks of hair framing her face giving it a more youthful appearance.

And as Y/N steps further into the room, her father hooks his arm with hers and leads her to where he is currently standing, right in front of the edge of her mother's bed, and Levi hears the chairman's wife choking back a sob and he really can’t blame her because he honestly feels the same way. After two years of yearning and pining after the woman of his dream, he is finally able to marry her.

Chairman Masamune parts with his daughter leaving a delicate, yet lingering kiss on her hand. And if Levi had been paying attention to the chairman instead of his breathtaking bride, he would’ve noticed the tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. The chairman returns to his place next to Tsukiko who is currently filming the private ceremony on a handheld Panasonic video camera with a wide stretched grin.

The two of them silently listened as the priest began the ceremony, Levi is certain that chairman Masamune’s wife is joyfully weeping as she is finally witness to her daughter’s wedding.

Levi’s heart is beating louder, drowning out all of his senses. Suddenly, it feels like everyone in the room has vanished, save for him and Y/N. The beeping of the monitor, the chairman’s wife’s tiny little sniffles, the whirring of the ventilators, all of them were gone.

Only when the priest had announced, “It’s time to recite your vows.” did Levi feel everyone around him teleported into their little universe.

When they are asked to recite their vows, the ever attentive Levi doesn’t miss Y/N’s despairing tone of voice, a battle she had terrifically lost before she could even put up a fight.

“You may now kiss the bride.” The priest announces and an electrical jolt brings Levi to life.

He glances at the priest, as if to confirm what he had just heard, and the man subtly nods his head in encouragement for him to proceed.

Levi doesn’t allow his anxiousness to show on his face as he lifts his hands with firm steadiness to unveil his bride. Though, he fails to hold in a gasp once Y/N’s beauty is fully revealed to him.

She has her gaze cast downwards, but when she hears his gasp, as if he were strangled by some deranged man demanding him for any valuable items he has on him, she lifts her gaze up and locks it with his.

And what Levi sees in those eyes that he had admired so dearly, is the reason he hears a sharp crack onto his erratically beating heart.

Y/N’s eyes are soulless, as if this is the last place she’d rather be in and Levi is the last human being she would rather marry, like their wedding is the last thing she wanted, and he wasn't wrong in making that assumption nor does Levi blame her.

But god does he wish she wanted him.

He is in a similar situation as her where he is forced to marry someone he is barely an acquaintance with, though, the glaring contrast between them is that he is in love with her and she isn’t in love with him.

Levi didn’t expect Y/N to possess enamor when she stood before him on their wedding day, however Levi hoped that she would appear a bit more bashful towards this whole ordeal. Though, he supposes one of the reasons he had fallen for her was her honesty.

Circumspect in his movement, like a predator trying not to scare off its prey, he leans in and does not overlook the way Y/N’s muscles tense up and her eyes shutting tight.

Pain plunges deep into his abdomen at the reaction, however, he does not blame her. He sees the way her eyelashes moisten, a silent prayer for him not to kiss her lips.

A soft coo could be heard from his left side, where Y/N’s mother is resting on the bed, as he plants his lips on her forehead in a gentle yet affectionate kiss, which he hopes conveys all the love he actually felt for her.

-

After the ceremony, Levi and Y/N made their way to their new apartment that chairman Masamune had gifted to the both of them.

The drive there was silent, eerily so, though it did not unnerve Levi. His attention is focused on the road as images of their little wedding replayed in his head. After Levi had kissed Y/N’s forehead, soft cheers erupted and Levi could’ve sworn chairman Masamune had been silently crying.

Tsukiko had bought a small wedding cake, only two tiers, with orange blossoms scattered here and there. Levi took a mental note to look up the meaning behind that particular flower that Y/N’s sister had chosen specifically for the both of them. Though, he has an inkling that it has something to do with love and prosperity.

They arrive at their apartment complex and Levi is aware how deafening Y/N’s silence was during the ride. He kept glancing at her from time to time, to make sure that she was okay, and he wasn’t surprised to see her blank expression still intact.

Even when he parks the car and kills the engine, Y/N is as quiet as a mouse.

“Do you...Need help?” Levi asks with a small voice - it felt odd to use his normal voice when his wife is in such a state of silence - and gestures to her train.

Y/N's pout deepens a bit and she shakes her head no, exiting the car with the train of her dress bunched up in her hands and she closes the car door  with her hip- a bit loudly and perhaps in irritation though Levi but said nothing quirking an eyebrow - and goes to wait for him at the lobby.

Their new home is on the eighth floor and lights were switched off when Levi unlocked the door, allowing his wife to access, without bothering to switch on the lights.

Levi holds back the sigh that’s threatening to break through and flicks the light switch. To both of their surprise, their apartment has already been furnished in a modern-esque design with a dash of color.

The living room is located at the end of the entrance hall on the right and when Levi rounds the corner, he sees Y/N hunched in front of the coffee table, where a bouquet of red roses is on the centre of the glass top, and is reading a card in her hand.

Levi contemplates coming up behind her to read the card, though, he instantly dismisses the thought when he remembers how invasive that would be of him.

He leaves her be for now and continues to explore his new home.

As Levi wanders around the apartment, Y/N glances down at the card in her hand and rereads it again, a heavy and anguished sigh silently escaping her lips.

Congratulations on your wedding, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t attend, i bet you looked gorgeous as always.

Your bags have been packed for your trip tomorrow. I’ll watch over your apartment while you’re gone.

Have fun!

With love,

Yukiko

Yukiko was Y/N’s nanny while growing up. She had been charged with her care for as long as Y/N could remember. Both her and her sister had their own nannies that watched over them while their parents were busy. Yukiko and Mei were like mothers to Y/N and her sister.

Her mother had informed her before her wedding day that nanny Yukiko would be staying in the same apartment complex as her and Levi, just one level below, and she will be taking care of their home during the day and will return to her own kids at night.

Placing the card on the glass table, Y/N sits up and guesses her way to her bedroom, dreading the night ahead.

The new home that Mr. Fujikawa has provided for them is luxurious but it has that oddly homey feel to it. As of now, his favorite place is the kitchen. He doesn’t know how to cook but the lavishness of it bubbles his blood with excitement, bringing a slight smile to his face as his head fills with images of him cooking his and Y/N’s meals.

He opens the fridge and it fuels the excitement within him even more as it is filled with all sorts of food and drinks. The cabinets are filled with colorful spices, plates and glasses in different shapes and sizes and some had coffee and an assortment of cereal. Levi scrunches his nose at the boxes of wheat and artificial honey flavor.

Levi easily spots the guest bathroom, glancing in, he is impressed by the size of it. It’s so big it has space for a shower stand, a bathtub,  a state of the art toilet and a porcelain sink with a very large mirror above. If this is the guest bathroom, he can’t imagine what the bathroom in the master bedroom would look like.

Overall, the apartment is spacious, furnished and most importantly; clean to Levi’s relief, though his inner germaphobe urges him to clean it himself as soon as he is able to. He subtly nods his head.

All that there is for him to see is the master bedroom and a guest room. He peeks his head into the guest bedroom and is satisfied by the sheer simplicity of it. Though, he takes note how bare the guest bedroom is and is conflicted by whether it being unfurnished is a good or a bad thing. On one hand, it’s good that it’s in such a state so that their guests could decorate it how they see fit. Yet on the other hand, it’s bad because what if they had an emergency where someone needed to stay and they didn’t have any blankets or pillows to give to them? Levi makes a mental note to purchase extra blankets, bed sheets and pillows to keep inside the closet for future reference.

Stepping out of the room, he almost runs into Y/N but he quickly steadies himself and gestures for her to go right ahead. He rubs his temple when she walks by, Levi had seriously underestimated the difficulties of a one sided love marriage. Well, it’s one sided to him as Y/N is mostly likely unaware of his true feelings. She probably believes that this whole marriage is loveless and is nothing but a business transaction, though that brings a deep frown to his face.

Levi refrains from sighing and follows after his wife… until he accidentally bumps into her. He ignores the annoyed look thrown his way and peers into whatever thing that has his wife standing in the middle of the doorway.

Ah yes, one bed.

Glancing at his wife, he doesn’t miss the way her shoulders are tense and apprehensiveness glimmers in her eyes.

Clearing his throat to bring attention to himself, Levi smoothly says, “I’ll take the couch until they furnish the guest bedroom.”

The way Y/N instantly relaxes, shoulders sagging, fills Levi with disappointment. He understands why Y/N feels uncomfortable sharing a bed with him, he is a stranger to her after all. Though, Levi had that glimmer of hope that maybe Y/N would be okay with performing the basics of marriage.

He brushes past her, he could practically feel Y/N’s eyes on him as he walked, her intense stare is burning him alive and it makes his skin crawl as he collects his nightwear that he had sent to the apartment as per Mr. Fujikawa’s instructions. This time, he silently sighs.

Once Levi leaves the bedroom and makes a beeline to the living room, Y/N let’s go of a breath she hadn't noticed she was holding. She closes the bedroom door and leans against it, head tilted backwards until the top of her head brushes against the wooden door.

She should feel guilty that her husband will be sleeping on the couch but since he was the one who offered it, then it’s not her problem.

So, why did she feel a sharp pain in her heart when she glanced at the empty bed?

-

The hotel they arrive at - after taking a two hour flight at nine am sharp - is small in size and is designed similarly to traditional Japanese houses with a genkan entrance hall and Shōji partitions, no doubt an ideal lodging for foreigners who romanticize Japan.

The soft thud of the tatami floors as the bellboy places their luggages is deafening.

It was eerily silent and Y/N briefly wonders if the young adolescent is aware of Y/N’s distaste in Levi and the fact that she isn’t quite satisfied with the marriage. She bets that he’s going to gossip about them in the staff room.

Y/N leaves the unpacking to Levi and heads straight to the window which overlooks the hilltop the hotel is built on. The red leaves of the forest below stretches for miles into the horizon. If they hadn’t driven  through that very forest in the minivan the hotel provided to pick them up from the airport, Y/N would’ve believed that the hotel was sailing through a sea of blood.

Rummaging through her purse for her phone, she snaps a couple of snapshots and sends it to the family group chat.

Instantly, she received a reply.

What a breathtaking view!!

Send us pictures of you and Levi!!

Read her mother’s messages, probably written and sent with the help of Tsukiko.

Withholding the urge to roll her eyes and sigh heavily, Y/N responds.

We’re a bit tired from our flight 😔 but i’ll make sure to send some pics later 😊

-

Levi and Y/N have their first lunch together as a married couple at the garden located behind the hotel. It is dangerously close to the cliff edge but there are railings for people’s safety and, honestly, the view is just breathtaking.

Their menu is the standard Japanese cuisine, it is quite expensive but considering their honeymoon expenses are paid by her father, the cost didn’t concern them.

Levi and Y/N are seated at the honeymoon table, under the shade of a large Rowan tree. The wind passing through the branches made the red leaves seem like they were murmuring.

Once the two had placed their order, their waiter politely smiles at them and asks, “May I take your picture?”

Y/N is going to refuse when Levi beats her to it and agrees. She would’ve thrown a nasty stare his way if the waiter wasn’t there.

The tall waiter holds Levi’s iPhone and angles it how he sees fit...only to frown and glance over the device, “Scootch a little bit closer, please.” He motions with his hand for the two to lean in.

Working a corporate job where Y/N had to meet countless clients everyday and hold meetings with several businessmen had taught her how to excel a fake, yet authentic, bright smile. She makes sure to fake a look of affection as she can feel Levi lean silently into her.

The camera clicks and the waiter coos for another picture because they looked absolutely adorable. “Put your arm around her and ma’am, please show me something. You’re too beautiful to have a closed lip smile.”

Y/N’s eye twitched at the requests of the waiter and she thought about complaining to the manager but she did as told and allowed for Levi to hover his arm over her shoulder. She is certain that he could sense the way her body tenses in response to his close vicinity but she ignores it.

Y/N isn’t doing it for appearance sake or to be considerate of Levi’s feelings, on the contrary, she doesn’t give a flying fuck what other people, especially Levi, would have to say about her. They could call her ungrateful for all she cares.

The only reason Y/N smiles into the camera, allows for Levi to be near him and pretend that the two are having a good time rather than the awkward atmosphere they’re in, is because of her mother.

Her mother who had given her the world on the palm of her calloused hands. Her mother had screaming matches with her father for her daughters. Her mother who had sacrificed so much for their future.

So, she slaps a smile on and poses for the camera.

“Gorgeous!” The camera man smiles after taking two more snaps and returns the phone to Levi. “You two make a lovely couple.”

The rest of their day goes about in a similar manner. Her mother had booked a trekking expedition with a group of tourists for their first day and they would constantly stop to take pictures. Y/N could feel the muscles in her cheek throb in pain for constantly stretching her lips for nearly five hours straight.

Seriously, she doesn’t understand why they had to take so many pictures and in so many places. They took ten at the temple hidden in the forest (She counted them herself), took a couple by the river (some with Levi), under the trees (Levi mostly took pictures of her which irritated Y/N but she couldn’t do anything about it as she is in a public space and going to jail is not worth it) and they eventually took a group photo at the end of their trek with Levi’s arm barely making contact around her waist.

She dreads to know what else her mother had planned for the two of them for the next three days, she groans.

Later that night, after the two had their dinner and Y/N sent all sixty five images to her family group chat - that Levi is now a part of- -and her mother blows up her phone with messages of how cute they were together and how glad she is that they are having a good time, Y/N encounters a dilemma- scratch that, two dilemmas, that she had forgotten during her busy and exhausting day.

Dilemma number one is that her nightwear consists of flimsy and see-through babydolls in pinks, purples and baby blues.

Y/N closes her eyes, sighs heavily through her nose, and curses silently at Yukiko for packing her luggage. Of course she would pack something like this. She had been practically praying every night and day for Y/N to get married so it is only natural to let herself get carried away by whatever assistance she believes she’s delivering.

Irritated, Y/N grabs the purple one as it is the darkest shade and rushes to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Levi had gone to the lobby to take an important phone call and felt like she’d rather be flung over the cliff than have her...husband see her in such a ludicrous piece of attire. If you could even call it that.

The second dilemma is that since they are residing at a traditional Japanese hotel, they have to share the smallest tatami bed Y/N has ever seen.

Actually, the tatami bed is large and spacious but to Y/N who is going to be sharing her first night in the same bed with Levi, it feels like the bed is small and it will force her to press against Levi. She feels a shiver rush down her spine at the idea of having Levi holding her in her sleep.

She would’ve cried at how her life turned out, but Levi would notice and he would ask her questions. Something Y/N did not want, thank you very much.

Just as she slips under the covers, their door opens and in steps Levi, who pauses at the doorway when he notices the bed and lack of furniture in the room. He says nothing and makes his way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Nearly half an hour later, which felt like mere seconds to Y/N, her heart thunders in her ears when Levi opens the bathroom door and stands at the edge of the bed.

She schools her expression, not allowing for any hint of nervousness to slip through. Though, her breath hitches and her heart won’t stop beating loudly.

And just as Levi sits on the edge of the so-called bed, Y/N swears that her heart stopped beating entirely and she feels like she's about to pass away.

“I know this makes you uncomfortable.” Levi starts and Y/N resists the urge to raise a single eyebrow in surprise. “I can call the front desk for an extra bed if you’d like but I doubt it would fit.”

Despite the two staying in the honeymoon suite, it is still a bit cramped. The only privilege is that they have their own private bathroom and onsen. Other than that, the room is nearly the same size as every other room in the hotel.

Which is why Y/N shakes her head, surprising both herself and Levi.

Levi instantly recovers from that moment of shock and nods his head. “Okay. I promise I won’t touch you.”

Y/N nods her head in return and watches as Levi switches the lamp, engulfing the room in complete darkness, and slips under the sheet.

He leaves enough space between them, enough to let Y/N feel comfortable, but also without having Levi to worry if he is going to fall over or not, the fall wouldn't be too much, but he'd rather not.

It takes them a while, both holding their breaths in anticipation for the unknown before they slip off to dreamland.

Their honeymoon vacation goes on in a similar manner. The two of them would eat breakfast, engage in whatever activity Mamiko had planned for them, take pictures together and send them to the group chat, and end the night by the two of them going to bed, without uttering goodnight.

It’s their last night at the hotel and the lovely couple would depart in the morning.

Y/N is spending her last night in the private onsen - an activity she regrets not engaging in much sooner as it would have helped soothe her aching muscles- and stares at the clear night sky.

She feels a bit disappointed as she was hoping she would see a sea of stars since she never had the privilege seeing them living in the city but not having any light pollution from towering buildings is still something she is grateful for, the pictures of the night sky in her camera roll attest to it.

A rush of air escapes her lips as she submerges her body deeper into the onsen until the water covers her mouth. Slowly, her eyes flutter shut at the tranquilizing atmosphere.

Y/N is so relaxed that she doesn’t hear their hotel room door unlocking and Levi shuffling into the room.

He briefly glances at the bed and is surprised to find it empty, the sheets still made. He stands outside of the bathroom door, leaning his ear against it and listens for any movements. When he hears none, he frowns.

What if she finally built up the courage to run away?

He thinks but then quickly dismiss the thought with a shake of his head.  

Just as he is about to call her, he spots the sliding doors which lead to the private onsen in his peripheral vision and pockets his phone.

He slides the door open, and somehow manages to stifle the slight gasp that was about to rip through his lips at the sight he is greeted with.

Y/N.

Naked.

And in the onsen.

Levi licks his lips, suddenly feeling them dry.

Y/N has her shoulder length hair in a messy bun, a few strands framing her exposed shoulder that is littered in moles and freckles, some big, some small, dark brown, light brown, they were endless.

There’s a tingling sensation in his fingers, overtaken with the urge to trace over every single mole on her body.

As if in a trance, Levi’s feet quietly move to the edge of the onsen, and he crouches down, hand stretched out ready for his fingers to lean in and poke the mole on her neck, when his phone buzzes in his back pocket and Y/N emits a terrified shriek.

She glances over her shoulder, and sighs in relief when she spots Levi standing behind her. Though, her relief quickly melts into anger and she hurries to turn around, back facing Levi, and undoes her bun to shield her exposed neck even a bit and wrap her arms around her frame.

“Pervert.” She enunciates loud and clear.

“I-I’m sorry.” Levi apologizes in vain.

When Y/N doesn’t respond, Levi rubs a hand down his mouth and chin and excuses himself to the lobby.

-

Y/N is angry. That much is clear.

She doesn’t take any more pictures the next day during breakfast before their departure, and doesn't even bother hiding her displeasure.

And Levi can’t really blame her.

He did step out of bounds the previous night. He broke what little trust Y/N had in him because he was consumed by a foreign and powerful spell, her skin called him like a siren and he ached to touch her.

He knows he deserves every glare thrown his way but Levi can’t help but to long for Y/N faking her joy during their short honeymoon where they pretended to be the happily married couple Levi had been fantasizing over since the day he had met her. It wasn’t true but at least it’s a thousand times better than how Y/N is currently treating him. Like dog shit she stepped on.

The second Levi and Y/N step foot into their apartment after a two hour plane ride and a thirty minute ride to their new home, Y/N rushes to her -their- room and is out of the front door faster than Levi could blink. He stares blankly at the door, sighs and plops on the couch with his head in his hands.

“Give her time.”

Startled, Levi lifts his head up and is met with an elderly woman that he had failed to see, too busy watching the angry storm that is Y/N.

“Who are you?” Levi asks, emotional exhaustion finally slipping into his tone of voice.

“Yukiko, Y/N's nanny.” She replies with a charming smile. She places the towel rag on the kitchen island and stares at Levi with kind eyes.

“Would you like some tea?”

-

The boiling anger inside of Y/N slowly cools down as she recklessly drives her way to the hospital. She is aware that she is being irrational with her anger, knows that as a couple they will have to see each other naked eventually, but she wishes it was a different situation. She sacrificed her own happiness for her mother and agreed to be in an arranged marriage.

She understands that Levi did not see much of her nakedness yet she still feels extremely uncomfortable with the idea of having a strange man laying his eyes upon her naked frame. She felt violated and scared that he would somehow lose himself to his animalistic nature and be consumed by lust and desire to take her then and there.

She knows that she is valid in what she is feeling and is having a rational reaction.

Y/N arrives at  the hospital parking lot and stares into the mirror to fix makeup that was ruined by the tears of frustration collecting at the corner of her eyes. When she is satisfied with her appearance, she smiles at her reflection and makes her way to her mother's private suite.

“Y/N!” Mamiko greets with as much joy as she could possibly muster. Even though she is extremely tired and Y/N can see the life slowly draining from her eyes, Mamiko won’t allow them to hinder optimistic spirit. She and Y/N know that she is a fighter and won’t give up so easily.

“Where is Levi?” Her mother asks when she fails to see her son-in-law.

“He’s home.” Y/N replies. “He’s feeling a little bit tired.”

Her mother’s lips forms into a silent ‘o’ and nods her head in understanding.

Y/N takes a seat next to her mothers hospital bed and holds her wrinkled hand in hers, her thumb running across her knuckles and asks, “How are you feeling today? I've missed you.”

The soft pitter patter of the rain outside is drowned by joyous laughter emitted by the two women in the hospital room.

Mamiko is in the middle of telling the story about how she nearly set the temple on fire on her wedding day because she was so nervous that she accidentally knocked over a lit candle and watched with horror as it rolled around until the hem of her aunt’s dress caught on fire, the plump woman was screaming loudly enough to be heard from miles away. Everyone had panicked and Mamiko just wanted to crawl into a hole and die in embarrassment.

No one was hurt as, luckily, someone was smart enough to put out the Fire.

“Mom, you're such a klutz!” Y/N  giggles. “How you manage to get this in life is a mystery I will never know.”.  

Mamiko wipes a single tear as nods her head in agreement. “Honestly I mostly winged everything. It is some miracle you and your sister have reached this age without any major injuries.”

This makes Y/N laugh harder, her stomach twisting in knots but in a good way.  She hasn’t laughed like this in a very long time and she misses her mother's stories.

Sadness threatened to rip the happiness from within her and nestle itself deep into her heart at the known future that is coming their way, a future where her mother is no longer in it. She is sure she would have been overcome by it had it not been for the nurse to knock on the door and open it to inform them that visiting hours are over.

Y/N leans in to kiss her mother's forehead and just as she leans back, her mother cups her cheek and caresses the smooth skin.

“You’ve made me so happy.” she says.

Y/N gazes into her mother's eyes, confusion clearly written in them. “What do you mean?  I didn't do anything.”

Her mother smiles that motherly smile and replies, “I got to live long enough to see you married and I hope I live even longer to see myself as a grandmother.”

Instantly, tears gather at the corner of her eyes and Y/N chokes back on a sob.

“You’re going to see it happen, I promise.”  She ignores the fact that she is lying to her mother but she can’t tell her the truth, that she is unhappy with her marriage to Levi. Can’t possibly imagine herself being sexually intimate with him and bless her with a beautiful child. She let her mother be blissfully ignorant.

“I love you.” Her mother sniffles in between sobs.

“I love you too.” Y/N shifts her face to the side and kisses mother's palm.

“Say hi to Levi for me.” Her mother smiles up at  her, “He's a good man, give him a chance.”

All that Y/N could offer in return is a small smile.

-

Y/N returns home to her apartment and spots Levi sleeping on the couch with his arm covering his eyes.

A small voice inside of the back of her head tells her that she wishes that Levi had stayed up to wait for her return yet another voice, a louder one, is glad that she doesn't have to see Levi awake; she did not want to deal with him after the events of the previous night.

Opening the fridge, Y/N notices a plate of rice and curry that is wrapped up for her to heat up, no doubt that nanny Yukiko had made for her.

She contemplates on having dinner but ultimately decides that she isn’t hungry enough, still angry about what happened with Levi and feels a cloud of melancholy looming over her after visiting her mother.  

She is happy that she had the chance to visit her mother after the honeymoon but seeing her mother weak and frail on the hospital bed ripped her heart into tiny little pieces.  Her once strong mother is now a shell of her former self and her beauty is a ghost in the past that can only be seen in pictures.

Y/N unlocks her phone and scrolls through the photo album until she finds the picture she is looking for; the one had taken on her wedding day where she was hugging her mother and kissing the top of her head.  She brings the phone closer to her lips and presses a long kiss.  

“Goodnight.'' She whispers. “I love you.”  

Come Morning, Levi is awoken by a loud scream.

He falls out of the couch, and bumps his head on the tile floor but when he hears that heart wrenching screaming coming from his wife’s room, he scampers to his feet and clumsily makes his way to their bedroom.

What he sees when he opens the door has his heart coming to a sudden stop.

Y/N is clutching a fist-full of her hair in both of her hands, tears rolling down and her face red as she continues to wail loudly at the top of her lungs.

Levi’s breathing quickens and his thoughts are clouded with confusion as he is unaware what he should be doing. Should he crouch next to her, gently un-fist her hands and hold her face in his hands and ask her what was wrong. Or does he remain by the door, wait for her to calm down and see if she would tell him what had happened.

Luckily, Y/N’s phone ringing made the choice for him.

He hears the melody of an upbeat song and follows the source of noise and finds the phone under the bed. He fishes it out and sees that Mr. Fujikawa is calling.

Glancing at the bed where his wife is still wailing, he answers her phone.

“Hello?” He greets, his voice shaky.

“Levi, is that you?” Mr. Fujikawa asks. Levi nods his head but remembers that the other man can’t see him so he gives a verbal response.

“Good. I was calling to ask how Y/N is fairing, but i think you also deserve to know. Listen, I'm not sure how to say this so I’ll be direct. Mamiko passed away early this morning.”

[islamicrays]

This past weekend my family and I went on a road trip to the mountains. As we drove down the long stretch of a seemingly endless freeway dodging all the big rig trucks, passing the empty desolate fields, and avoiding the dangers of the long windy roads up the mountains, I had some reflections about life and parenting.

Everything that we had experienced seemed analogous to the dunya and the countless spiritual pitfalls and struggles that human beings experience.

1. Life can seem sometimes like a long endless loop.

2. There are so many large obstacles to avoid all the time.

3. The isolation this dunya induces is very real for most people regardless of how socially connected they are.

4. The dangers are always there and require us to be vigilant constantly.

I then started to analyze the life cycle of the human being and the vital role that the parents play.

We are told by Allah (swt) that this dunya was designed to test us. Knowing this, the parent is tasked with preparing the child spiritually and fortifying them to come out of this test in the most unscathed state possible, spiritually speaking. In other words, the parent’s job is to protect and provide spiritual immunity to the child from the very beginning, the same way for example, a mother who nurses her child from the onset is able to provide immunity against physical disease through her breast milk.

So, what does spiritual immunity look like? Well, think of it like giving a child the spiritual building blocks for them to work with and build upon at a very early age.

1. For infancy through the younger toddler years, a child is heavily influenced by the spiritual state of the parent. We know that even what a mother consumes, for example, passes through the child in the womb and then in the breastmilk. In a similar way, the spiritual state of the mother and the father can have a positive and beneficial impact or a negative and deleterious one.

So, for example, if either parent is overwhelmed, under appreciated, undervalued, or worse, abused, abandoned, or neglected, the child or the children in the home will be impacted spiritually. They will witness negative things that they are not equipped to process or cope with and this will begin to compromise their spiritual immunity. Some of these effects can be reversed, but some may never go away at all—la qadr Allah.

On the flip side, when the parents are strong in their faith, they are on the same page and have healthy communication, and cultivate a home of love and respect, the child’s spiritual immunity is strengthened and enhanced. This doesn’t mean they will be completely inoculated and never tested spiritually, because everyone will have their own unique struggles regardless. It means that just witnessing the positive and God-centered exchanges of their parents, children in such environments are fortified with spiritual vitamins that optimize their immunity so that they can better resist spiritual diseases.

2. For older children, the parent's job is to strengthen their spiritual immunity through not only modeling healthy behavior but through instruction and education. Stories are powerful antioxidants that can help children develop the requisite mental pathways they need to avoid the countless spiritual pitfalls shaitan is constantly developing and tailoring for them.

So, for example, when we share stories from the Qur’an, or the sunnah, our intention should be clear: we are building our children’s spiritual immunity to this diseased and dangerous place called dunya. Thus, every story we share with them has to be with THAT intention. It’s not just history we’re teaching, it’s for them to grow in their love for Allah (swt) and His Beloved ﷺ, and to take their teachings as daily doses of healing that are designed to prevent the dunya and all of its diseases from reaching their heart.

Another powerful tool at our disposal is our OWN stories. When we share our experiences and actually engage in conversations with our children as opposed to shutting them out or sedating them with screens/games and other distractions because we’re too impatient to deal with them, we are helping them literally fortify their spiritual hearts and preventing them from learning difficult tests/lessons the hard way.

Thus, the more stories we share, the more open conversations we have, the more our children are spared from learning through suffering and pain. Think about the fact that since time immemorial, human beings from all backgrounds and cultures, have had oral traditions which included folktales, poetry/song, and popular stories passed down generation to generation. What was the purpose of that other than to teach and help prevent unnecessary pain and suffering?

We have strayed so far from that and we’re seeing it in our world today. Parents are often too busy with their own lives to talk to their children let alone tell them deep and personal stories, grandparents and other relatives are often too far or removed from the picture to do the same, and our children are left to their own devices—literally and figuratively, which means they have to teach themselves and often end up learning a LOT of difficult life lessons the hard way—through pain and suffering. And without the spiritual immunity they should have had from infancy, this means they are filled with spiritual diseases and have little to no recourse for getting the healing and treatment they need.

And what happens when people who are ill with spreadable disease come together? The diseases spread and wreak havoc on the entire group and beyond.

Look around our world and it becomes evident that the reason our children are suffering is because they are being raised by spiritually-immune-compromised parents which means they too will likely suffer the same fate.

Of course everything is in the hands of Allah (swt) and He guides whomever He wills, but we as parents who have been given guidance and are privileged to be able to use the faculties He has given us and the resources He has blessed us with, must rise to the occasion and first and foremost start with treating our own spiritual diseases, and then look to our children and help them fortify their spiritual hearts against disease. We can inoculate them against spiritual diseases through all of the things mentioned above: remembrance of God, love of Him and His Prophet ﷺ, and commitment to instructing them through important stories from the past and the present. The more stories we share with them, positive and inspiring ones as well as cautionary tales, the more we can help them.

If, however, we barely make the time to check in with them and are always rushing our conversations to go to the next activity or item on our daily agenda/itinerary, then why are we shocked when we find them engaging in something or meeting with someone that is harmful to them? They either lack the knowledge or skills to protect themselves or they are too spiritually weak to resist the temptations of shaitan. In either case, the parents could have been instrumental in preventing the harm.

May Allah (swt) help guide us and help us rid our own diseases first, and then help us protect our children from having to get sick from the affects of the dunya in order to learn life lessons. Amin.

-Ustadha Hosai Mojaddidi

[true-blue-megamind]

Daylight and Dark Ch. 3 - Ares

Photo by Joe Waranont

Some Yuletide silliness and... At last!  Enter the villain!

CHAPTER RATING: Teen; FULL FICTION RATING: Explicit.   WARNINGS FOR  ENTIRE WORK: violence, sex, language, references to prior domestic abuse, and rock n’ roll! CHAPTER WARNINGS: brief description of violence.

There is nothing NSFW in this chapter, but it is a bit long, so I am adding a Click Here to Keep Reading link.  You can also read the entire entire fiction HERE.

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

There were moments in life when Roxanne couldn't help but think about perspective: about how funny it was that a person could never clearly see the road to their destination until that destination had been reached. She'd felt that way one bitter winter morning, in her office, when she had suddenly realized that she was becoming one of those sentimental hack reporters she'd always hated. She'd felt that way on the long-ago windy spring afternoon when she had finally understood that she would never have feelings for Metro Man, and she'd felt it on the early summer day last year when she'd learned, to her own surprise, she was in love with his former nemesis. Roxanne had that same feeling tonight. Stepping out of the taxi Megamind had insisted on paying for she'd immediately been met by three brainbots, two of which immediately took charge of her small suitcase.  Greeting them with pats, she had walked the last block through the biting December chill with her unusual escort bowging at her heels.  The little cyborgs had darted away once their charge reached Megamind's invisible doorstep, probably to inform their master of her arrival. Now she stood alone and stared at a cross-stitched sampler, hung incongruously beside what appeared to be a solid wall, which read: "Lair Sweet Lair" in slightly crooked letters. What was he up to?

That September afternoon on the balcony, after the first night they'd made love, had been a turning point in Roxanne and Megamind's relationship. She had expected that, of course, but now that she had arrived at this still-mysterious milestone in her life, something in the back of her mind teased that it had been even more important than she'd realized. They had shared deep, personal sorrows, hidden from all other eyes, and an impenetrable glass wall had been removed. She realized, at this moment, that something undefinable had happened as well. Ever since that day, something had begun building between them, unnoticed and unspoken, creating a channel into which two spirits were poured and mingled. Try though she might, however, that something refused to slide into focus. It was both elating and terrifying, for Roxanne had not fully expected the cozy intensity that she and Megamind had found. How was it possible to feel so relaxed, so at home, around someone that being near him was like snuggling into a favorite sweater, while still feeling so powerfully and passionately attached to that same person that he made you antsy, strangely warm, and a little nervous? How was it even possible to feel simultaneously self-conscious and comfortable in the first place?

The oddity of those emotions was disconcerting enough, but worse still was the fact that Roxanne had realized that she no longer loved solitude, because solitude meant Megamind wasn't around.  True, she still enjoyed many of the same quiet hobbies— reading books, binging sci-fi movies, solving crossword puzzles—but now she was only happy if a certain blue alien was beside her, busily sketching design schematics for his latest invention, or pointing out in hilariously descriptive detail why a particular piece of film prop "space tech" wouldn't actually work at all.  She had always disdained those couples who seemed to be attached at the hip: the sort that showed up to every party together and skipped any function one of them couldn't attend. Now it seemed she was becoming half of one. Worst of all, she didn't mind. She liked it. She was sublimely happy with it.

What is wrong with me?

She and Megamind had fallen into an easy rhythm as serene and unquestioning as the deepest friendship, yet had retained all the fire and ardor of a new infatuation. A traitorous little voice in her head asked if this was the way people felt before they got married, moved to the suburbs, gained ten pounds, and started daydreaming about babies. She refused to listen, refused to even consider the possibility of leaving chic professionalism for matrimonial doom, but that same little voice reminded her that it wouldn't be so bad as long as it was with Megamind. Despite all her denials, Roxanne had to admit that something new had grown between herself and her favorite hero, inching up, bit by bit, undetected, until suddenly she noticed it was all around her. Small kindnesses, shared moments, camaraderie, and passion had all built into something beautiful, strange, and a little scary.

Which is what brought her to tonight and her current situation, as she stood shivering in the winter evening, looking at that foolish sampler and wondering why the sight of it set alarm bells ringing in her head. Megamind had invited her over, insisting that he had a Christmas gift that couldn't wait for Christmas, and she had not considered the oddity of the date until this moment.

Why now? Why tonight?

That was it. Roxanne's eyes widened with a realization that should have been obvious. Today was December 12th. Exactly eighteen years ago Margaret Ritchi, Roxanne's mother, had taken a turn too quickly, swerved on icy pavement, and ended her life. Although it wasn't unusual for Roxanne to visit her lover in the middle of the week, it was unlike Megamind to ask her over at a specific time, especially when she had just gotten back into town, tired after a business trip, which indicated that he probably had something planned. It would be exactly like him to researched old traffic incidents just so that he could invite her over to cheer her up on the anniversary of her mother's death.

The question was, was he just planning on distracting her from her memories, or did he have something more serious in mind?

"Miss Ritchi," Minion appeared through the hologram wall, less than two feet away from Roxanne. She had to crane her neck up to look into the fishy face set atop his six-foot-tall robotic body. "Miss Ritchi, if you please, could you come inside? He's been watching you on the monitor for ten minutes and he's starting to worry."

"Oh, I… Of course. I'm sorry Minion. I just—"

It was always odd watching a fish smile. "No apologies needed. Just come inside before you freeze."

He ushered her through with the wave of a metallic arm, and Roxanne stopped so suddenly that he nearly crashed into her as he followed.

"Oh, my…"

Garlands. The Evil Lair was strung with garlands of faux evergreen twigs, plastic holly, and red and gold ribbons. Multiple strings of colored lights, hung with no apparent order or plan in mind, blinked, chased, and sparkled in crisscrossing lines until the flashing dials and blinking buttons in the workroom looked like no more than additional decorations. In the middle of the yuletide chaos stood a massive Christmas tree, its top nearly lost in the shadows of the high ceiling. Brainbots hovered and buzzed around it, trimming it in a haphazard fashion that Roxanne suspected explained the random order of the rest of the decorations. Most of the items being hung on the tree were normal— glass balls, silvery snowflakes, diminutive, jolly Santas— but every now and again a brain bot added a shiny bit of wire or a large metal nut. Christmas carols were blaring from the nearby stereo.

"Roxanne! What do you think?" Megamind's happy voice startled her from her contemplation. He jumped down the last two industrial steps leading up to the second floor, his face glowing with good cheer and one arm sweeping out proudly to indicate the scene. Roxanne turned her eyes back to the seasonal décor and the happily buzzing robots. After the initial shock, it really wasn't so bad. In fact, it was almost cute, like the messy decorations of enthusiastic children.

"It's wonderful," she answered, turning back to her lover with a genuine smile.

He beamed at her. "I'm so glad you like it! And look," he added with a sly smile. "We've got rocket-toe!"

"Mistletoe, silly," Roxanne smiled, leaning up to give him a soft kiss.

"Rocket, missile, what does it matter? Missiles have rocket propulsion systems."

"Uh-huh," Roxanne's expression was all wry amusement.

"The early Soviet Vostok rockets were based on the R-7 ICBM," Megamind informed her. "So I can see no reason whatsoever why rocket-toe should be any less—"

"Megamind?"

"Hmmm?"

"It's still called Mistletoe."

"Potato, tomato, potato, cucumber," he answered with a teasing grin.

Roxanne laughed. "Cucumber? Really? Why cucumber?"

"Well, they both grow on vines. Yet tomatoes are technically fruits while cucumbers are vegetables."

Roxanne laughed. "I always thought that was kind of weird. I mean: why?"

"They're gourds."

"What?"

"Cucumbers. They're gourds."

"Megamind, I was talking about the tomatoes-are-fruits thing."

"Ah, well, botanically, they're ripened flower ovaries that contain seeds, and—"

"Sir—" interjected Minion.

"And this will really blow your mind: so are zucchinis!"

"Sir—"

"Think about it: cucumbers and zucchinis, so similar yet so different."

"Sir! Didn't you have something to show Miss Ritchi?"

"Oh! Of course!" his face lit up, and he grabbed Roxanne's hand. "Come up! You'll love this! Wait until you see the dining room!"

"Dining… But you don't have a—"

"We do now! Follow me!"

He pulled her bodily past the command room and back up the metal stairs, her surprise growing with every step. The conference room near the kitchen— which had never seemed to serve much purpose since any meetings involved only Megamind, Minion, and, during the last several months, Roxanne— had, indeed, been transformed into a cozy dining room. Another garland swagged across the doorway, and a dark wood table, set as if in expectation of a festive meal, displayed a centerpiece of holly and ribbons surrounding three crème-colored candles. Beside the industrial stairs leading to the third floor— their banisters also bedecked in Yuletide fashion— the plain bathroom that had once served the offices over the factory had been updated and expanded. It looked as if it belonged in a wealthy grandma's house— if Granny had decided to go Goth. A largely unused, cavernous storage space had been turned into a sitting room. It proudly boasted not only a black leather sofa, matching recliner, and built-in dark wood bookshelves stuffed with second-hand volumes, but also an old-fashioned pot-bellied stove that Roxanne was almost certain was against fire codes. In one corner, a more elegantly decorated Christmas tree— probably Minion's work— stood glittering with white lights and antique glass ornaments.

Even that wasn't the most shocking addition to the new living space, however.

"Megamind, there aren't any external walls here. How on earth did you put in windows?"

"Isn't it great?!" he threw himself into the chair, grabbed a remote control from a side pocket, and aimed it at the window. Instantly the view of Metro City Beach was replaced by a forested mountain range.

"It's absurdly simple, really: just a high-definition plasma monitor that I mounted behind framed glass and connected to video feeds that I've had set up in various locations! That conversation we had last autumn about your apartment windows gave me the idea. Look! If you don't like the view, you just change the scenery with a press of a button!"

He clicked the control a couple of more times, bringing up a snow-covered prairie, a quaint French village, and a tropical reef.

"Minion picked out the last one," he explained. "It also interfaces with the supercomputer, so you can use it for research, calls… Look, the frames retract for a better view!"  he demonstrated.  "Then you push this button, and... voila!" A holographic keyboard had appeared in midair above the remote.  Megamind set the device down, and, to Roxanne's astonishment, began typing.  A browser popped up on the "window," and he navigated to a video featuring winter scenery to the accompaniment of a Boston Pop's Christmas album.

"Megamind, that's really amazing," Roxanne managed. "All of this is, really... I mean, you've made it so—" she almost said "homey," but bit back the word and finished with: "comfortable."

"I'm glad to hear you say that!" There was something warm in his voice that both thrilled and frightened her. "Oh! Oh! Oh! But it gets even better!" He leaped up and tugged her out of the room. "Let me show you what we've done upstairs!"

The third floor, once comprised of large executive offices, was where Minion and Megamind slept. Roxanne had been there many times in the past weeks, though she was admittedly usually too preoccupied to give much attention to the décor.

Megamind's room had changed from a blacked-out bachelor pad to a stylishly Gothic bedchamber. The walls were a rich blue. A full suite of carved ebony furniture—bed, wardrobe, nightstand, and chest of drawers— had replaced the previous collection of mismatched thrift finds. The ornate four-poster sported a new satin coverlet set in hues of gray, black, and cobalt, and was piled with silky-looking ash-colored pillows that Roxanne suspected matched the sheets. An impressionist oil painting of a historic street at night— rendered almost entirely in blue shades and black shadows— and a large mirror both hung in antique silver frames. Two lamps and a small chandelier, all wrought iron, completed the picture. It belonged on the cover of Evil Lair and Garden. Or maybe as the set of a photoshoot for Bad Boys Weekly. That would be better. All it lacked was its sexy male occupant lounging on the covers. The thought made Roxanne shiver with delight.

Minion's room reminded her of a garden pool, all greens, browns, and teals.  Its bamboo furnishings and simple stone accents gave it a slightly Asian ambiance. The style was completely different from Megamind's Vampire Chic bedroom. Full of clean lines and abstract art, it looked more like a post-modern interior design catalog than a Goth culture magazine.

"He picked everything out himself," Megamind was saying. "You should have seen him, like a kid in a candy store! When I told him I wouldn't invade his privacy by bringing you to his room, he was utterly offended! He insisted that if I didn't show you he would never speak to me again. And that I could expect literally everything he cooked to be smothered in mayonnaise for at least a week!" The blue man made a show of shuddering in horror. Looking around, he added: "I should have let him redecorate years ago."

"I'm curious, why is there no bed?"

"Roxanne, he's a fish. He lives in a fishbowl."

The grin she gave him was three parts knowing and one part sly triumph. "And so he has a bedroom because….?"

Megamind blushed a little under his blue tint. "Well, I mean, you know..."

Cocking one arm to rest on her hip, Roxanne gently poked his chest with her other forefinger. "I always knew you were a big softy deep inside, even when you were a supervillain."

He spluttered. "That isn't… I am not… I was disgustingly horrifying! And..."

She laid a finger over his lips. "I always knew, and I love you for it." Smiling into his emerald eyes, she tilted her face up to give him a long, deep kiss. "Now, before you take me back to your new bedroom, tell me: what's that other door at the end of the hall?"

"That, well," He smiled and rubbed one ear, a nervous gesture she had come to adore. "That's my early Christmas present to you. Come have a look."

He took her hand gently this time, and when he pushed open the third door, Roxanne's mouth fell open.

"Ta-da!" he spun to face her, cloak billowing.  His tone was all bold showmanship as he swung his arms wide to encompass their surroundings, but Roxanne knew him well enough to recognize the uneasiness hidden behind the bravado.

She stared around wide-eyed at the vaguely familiar round room. Everything in it had been changed so completely that it took her a moment to recognize the place she had awoken during her final kidnapping. The industrial elevator and second floor had been removed. A spiral staircase now led to a cozy loft and catwalk lined with wooden bookcases. All of the equipment had been moved out, the domed walls and ceiling had been expertly plastered and painted, and, where there had once been a telescope with mechanical shutters, there were now two glass doors leading onto a private balcony overlooking Lake Michigan. It was… perfect. Wonderfully, frighteningly perfect. Her own style—too formal to be modern but too clean to be antique—her favorite colors—sage green, sky blue, and soft ivory with cheerful red accents.  The bookshelves—obviously custom-made to fit the curving walls—and few other pieces of furniture were warmly-stained oak that exactly matched the contents of her apartment.  There were several empty spaces where she was clearly intended to move in her things. Roxanne knew she should have been thrilled—all the work, care, and expense he'd put into this would be enough to make any one of those silly interns goofy with elation—but all she could feel was cold dread.

"I was thinking we could put your living room suite upstairs to make a reading nook! And look!" He grabbed another remote control from a bracket on the wall. "I've renovated the alligator pit!" With the push of a button, a round trap door—one the reporter remembered with something almost like fondness— opened, and a half-moon desk with a cushy office chair rose on a platform to click into place with the rest of the floor. "I've, ah, also included controls in a hidden wall panel. I know how you lose remotes." He paused expectantly. "So, what do you think?" His smile was starting to look a little forced around the edges.

"Wow, Megamind," she tried not to sound unhappy. His feelings could be so easily crushed, though he excelled at hiding it. "This is…unexpected..."

His face fell slightly, and she searched quickly for something more positive to say.

Deciding on gentle honesty, she added: "I mean, this is exactly the way I would have decorated it myself. I had no idea…"

"Really?" God, she hated the vulnerable hope in his eyes.

"It's beautiful. It is. And sweet. But…"

"But?" he urged uncertainly, nervously fiddling with one of the studs on his black leather gauntlet.

"It just… This… All of this… It's happening so fast." It sounded like a canned response even to her.

True to form, her blue-skinned lover tried to put on a brave face with humor. "Oh, come on, you already sleep here more than you do your own place. This would make everything easier."

"Megamind, this is serious. I'm not sure if I'm ready yet."

"If there's one thing I've learned from all my battles, it's that there are some things you'll never feel ready for, but if you really want it, you just have to jump in anyway."

"Okay, but this? We've never even discussed me moving in, and this is just one step away from being married, and… I just…" she sighed. "I love you. I do, but I've never lived with someone before, and I… I need a little time to think this over." she finished lamely. Seeing his unhappy face, she added: "I'm not necessarily saying no, just...not yet."

"But Roxanne—"

"This is a wonderful gesture, but it's so sudden. I just don't think I can."

"Of course you can. Please, Roxanne, Sweetheart, say yes. Stay here with me," his voice took on an almost pleading tone. "It doesn't have to feel like we're living together. That's why you have a separate bedroom. Whenever you need time to yourself, you know I'll always give it to you."

"Megamind, it's not—"

"This doesn't have to be any more than you want it to be."

"Megamind, please—"

"I'll never invade your privacy unless you want me to." He dropped his voice to a sultry purr. "And when I do, I'll invade it very, very well."

"That isn't what—"

"I promise I'll be the best roommate you've ever had. We share a bathroom," he indicated the door on the left-hand wall. "The plumbing was insufficient for two, but there is a double sink. And I can use the facilities downstairs if you need me to."

"That's really sweet, but it's not the issue. I'm not ready for this."

"Stay anyway."

"I can't"

He crossed his arms. "Can't, or won't?"

"Why are you being so pushy about this?! You never push! And now you're asking me to give up my apartment, change my life… Megamind, that's a huge decision!"

"You're right. I never push. I've never before asked you for anything unless it involved protecting this city. But you know what? I'm asking now. This is the only request I've ever made of you. So please, please do this for me."

"Damn it, Megamind, that is so unfair!" Hot tears stung Roxanne's eyes. "I can't! Not yet! I'm not ready! And it's really low of you to pull that never-asked-for-anything card!"

That hit a nerve. "I am NOT pulling a card, Roxanne! I'm being very, very honest!"

"I didn't mean… I just…"

"I'm offering you everything! My home! My privacy! A place in every aspect of my life! I am offering you—a reporter!—all my secrets! I'm offering my feelings, my time, my vulnerability! I'm pulling out my heart here, Roxanne, pulling it out and laying it at your feet! Don't pay me back by stomping on it!"

There was ringing silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Megamind said at last. "That was… It wasn't fair of me to say..." He drew in a deep breath. "I just really need you to stay here."

Roxanne swiped at her eyes in frustrated, jerky movements.

"I think I'd better go."

"No! Wait!" he grabbed her arm.

"Let go!" She demanded. He did and she stormed toward the door.

"Roxanne!" Megamind dodged around to block her path. "Roxanne, I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave yet.  Please listen to me! I know you're upset, but please let me explain!" He braced his back against the door as she tried to push past him. "This isn't just about me wanting you close! This is about your safety!"

"My… Oh, God, now you're starting with the helpless damsel crap?!" She tried to push past him again.  "Let me out!"

"I will, Roxanne, as soon as you hear what I have to tell you."

She glared at him.  "Let.  Me.  Out."

"Sweetheart, please..."

"Megamind, I mean it!" she yelled.  "You promised me!  You said no more real kidnappings!  You promised!  Let me out!"

The pain in his eyes was like a punch to Roxanne's heart, and that somehow made her temper burn even higher.

"You promised!" she said again, her voice rising nearly to a shriek.

"That's not what this is, Roxanne!  If you would just listen I wouldn't have to do this!  You think I like feeling like a monster?!"

"Then stop doing it!"

"I can't. Not when you're trying to run away rather than listen. Look, you're angry.  I don't pretend to know why, but I accept that you are," His voice was deliberately calm, emotion simmering underneath, but he held his ground, pressing his weight back harder when she scrabbled for the doorknob. She wanted to slap him. "But, Roxanne, I still need you to listen," Megamind lifted one hand like he meant to touch her cheek, but stopped himself, closing his fingers on thin air. "I know you can take care of yourself under normal circumstances, but things have changed. Something's happened, and now… Metrocity isn't safe for you anymore."

That stopped her in her tracks. "Megamind, what are you talking about?"

"I didn't want to bring this up until I could gather some more information." Fishing into his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "I didn't want to worry you, not until I had a plan…"  He sighed. Reluctantly, Megamind handed over a folded letter.  His lover opened it to reveal oddly formal calligraphy.

My Dear Hesperos,

I have recently undertaken a business proposition in Metro City, which I understand is under your protection. In general, I applaud your intelligent planning and remarkable success in execution, but I wish you to understand that I cannot allow my operations to be jeopardized. Although your newfound love of justice and position as Defender of Metro City are both, to say the least, surprising, I shall not disparage your change in career. However, I believe that you also have seen enough of the world and society through the eyes of a villain to know that law and justice are, too often, completely disparate, and that sometimes an act of villainy is the only truly righteous course. Therefore I am sending this correspondence as both a professional courtesy and as an offer of peace.

Out of respect and remembered fondness for you, I desire to find a mutually beneficial compromise. It is therefore my hope that this communication will achieve two purposes. First, I wish to assure you that, as my plans currently stand, my activities within your city will neither be aimed against the populace at large nor intended to undermine the normal daily operations of the city itself. I will not, however, insult your intellect or my honor by claiming actions will be viewed, by the strictest interpretation of the law, as anything other than criminal. Nonetheless, be assured that it is my intention to complete my business quickly, discreetly, and without any more loss of life than is necessary. Second, I wish to cordially advise you not to attempt to dissuade me. I do not desire harm to come to you, or any dear to you, but I am a gentleman of business and must protect my interests. If you will consent to allow me to complete my task without interference, you will hardly notice my presence. However, if you take it upon yourself to trouble me, I am afraid I shall have to extract a dire price.

I would take no joy in harming a lovely young lady like Miss Ritchi, but accidents do happen, especially to those who oppose me.

Yours in Good Faith,

Ares Coeus

Roxanne felt slightly cold by the time she finished reading. To think that two minutes ago she'd been worried about whether Megamind wanted to become too serious!

But she hadn't become a star reporter by letting fear control her.  "Wow, okay.  So, this is... Not what I expected." She looked at him. "I'm sorry... I..."

"It's alright, Love.  And I understand. Believe me, it's thrown a wrench into my gears, too."

She nodded, forcing her mind to focus as panic tried once again to drown her natural spunk and curiosity.  "Ares? Like the god of war?" she managed a wry grin. "Really? That's a little dramatic."  Her attempt at a smile smile felt wrong, like it was stretched too tight.

Megamind didn't share her humor. "Yes, Sweetheart, like the Greek god of war."

Something about that name tugged at the depths of her mind. "I think... I think I remember hearing something about him now. Ares escaped Metro City Prison for the Criminally Insane when I was in the fourth grade. No one except you had ever done it before. No one except you has done it since. People were panicking. Some parents wouldn't let their kids go to school."  She paused.  "That was weird, now that I think about it.  They never did that when you escaped."

"I was not just the local supervillain but also a recognized super-genius.  My escaping was almost expected, even if they did everything they could to prevent it.  That was just another Tuesday.  But Ares' escape wasn't part of the show.  They couldn't tell themselves it was only because of my extreme brilliance and ingenuity; not when the escapee was another human.  That made it more... real."

Roxanne nodded and cleared her throat. "So… Hesperos. Is that you?"

"Yes. It was Ares' name for me. Hesperos Oldwin."

"Oldwin. That doesn't really fit the pattern. All the other names he chose sound Classical."

"You're right. It doesn't. Ares was obsessed with Greek myths, among other things—especially with both his namesake and with the story of the titan Cronos eating his own children, who were then reborn as gods—but the ancient Greeks didn't have a word for 'blue.'"

"Seriously?"

He made a brave attempt at a chuckle. "Clearly they didn't appreciate the finer things, at least where colors were concerned," His weak smile couldn't seem to hold onto his lips, and quickly fell away. He sighed. "Anyway, Ares gave me the name Hesperos Oldwin because it means Morning Star Blue Sky. The blue part is obvious—"

"Hmmm," she agreed

"And then, of course, my escape pod came from the stars and fell from the sky one morning."

"So he was, what? Your friend? Why is he threatening you?"

"I think I was the closest thing to a friend Ares ever had, but that wasn't very close. More like hero worship." At Roxanne's look, he grimaced slightly. "Remember, I was young and… less brilliant."

"But you liked him?"

"'Like' is too strong a word.  Ares was… strange, but he enjoyed my company when I was a boy because I was the only one who could keep up with his intellect, even beat him at chess, although I quickly learned that outsmarting him too much led him to abandon me for days on end.  He could be… disinterested, but more often he talked to me, sometimes for hours, when he wasn't locked in solitary confinement. I thought he was cool— smooth, sophisticated, well-spoken, smart, tough— and maybe I liked finding someone fairly close to my own age who didn't revile me for a change." He studied his black boots. "Maybe it made me feel special that I was the only other person he bothered naming."

Roxanne gently lifted his chin. "You were lonely.  I can't really blame you."

"I can."  Megamind sighed. "As I grew older I began to realize that some things about him were just… off. It wasn't until years afterward that I learned 'morning star' is also the meaning of the name Lucifer, as in the devil in most Abrahamic religions. By that time Ares was already gone, but I have the feeling the parallel wasn't an accident. The worst part is, I don't think he meant it as an insult."

"Okay, but how much of that is just a persona? You once said that the difference between a villain and a supervillain is presentation."

"Minion said that," he reminded her.

"It's still true."

"This is different."

"I don't mean he's necessarily a supervillain. You grew up in prison. You're better at analyzing criminal minds than any psychiatrist I've ever heard of. I've seen you figure people out so fast it's almost like mind-reading. I'm guessing Ares isn't his real name, so clearly he's putting on a show. How much is him and how much is just an act?"

"Oh, you don't understand!" Megamind threw up his hands and began pacing. "Ares does not play at evil insanity. He's the real deal! No one in that prison ever crossed him. Convicts, guards, even the warden feared him. Most people, even criminals, have limits… lines they won't cross, but Ares… He had no lines. He would be a perfectly nice and polite man until someone did something he didn't like—anything, a tone of voice, the wrong look—and then, in a flash, he could turn horrible and callous. He would get this cold smile on his face, and you knew sometime soon something truly terrible was going to happen to that person. And it never bothered him. Not even a little."

"You make him sound like a monster."

"He is."

Roxanne stood up and stopped his pacing with a hug. "No, Megamind. He's just a man."

With a sigh, Megamind gently pushed her away. "Roxanne," he looked her in the eye. "I was twelve when Ares was arrested. He was only a few years older than me, not quite a legal adult, but they sent him to a high-security facility for the criminally insane. Do you know why? When he found out his father was cheating on his mother, Ares murdered both the man and his mistress. And not in a crime of passion. He searched, learned, planned, and prepared. He found out about the spa resort his father often took his mistress to— an exclusive and very discreet place outside of town—"

Roxanne was starting to feel a little sick. "Oh my God… The Nelson Case. You knew that guy?"

"Yes. Ares' real name is Eric Nelson."

"I read about that trial for a paper when I was in college. Did he really kill them in the steam room?"

Megamind nodded. "He told me all about it. Bragged. The fake ID, the forged credentials, the Social Security System hack… And then he got a maintenance job at the spa resort. Even though he was rarely around guests, he was always in disguise, even changing his mannerisms and the way he walked… He learned how the steam system worked, created a bypass for the safety measures…." Megamind shuddered. "Roxanne, he literally steam broiled those people alive. And he watched. He stood there and he watched. His own father…" With a shake of his head, Megamind added: "He wasn't even sorry. Ares called himself a 'soldier of righteousness,' and insisted it was the legal system that was corrupt."

"How could he think that?"

"He's crazy. But he's also calculating, cold, and cruel. That makes him dangerous. When his twisted sense of honor and justice is incensed, he is capable of truly horrific things." Megamind sighed again. "After Ares escaped prison, he joined a paramilitary organization, but apparently his philosophies were too... extreme even for them. The last I heard, he was working as an assassin, but he only takes certain jobs that he feels are in line with his off-center views of right and wrong. He's so good at making his murders look like accidents that no one— not even in the criminal underworld— really knows what his kill count is. Even so, the sorts of 'accidents' he causes… Let's just say people don't hire Ares if they want the funeral to be open casket."

"Maybe he's not serious." Even to her, it sounded more like a plea than a suggestion. "What if he's just playing mind games with you?" Roxanne trailed off as she studied her lover's face.

"No. Ares isn't like other villains we've faced… like I was. This isn't something he does for fame, money, petty revenge, or for the simple reason that he's bored out of his skull and needs intellectual stimulation. He doesn't play games, or if he does, he plays for keeps."

It felt as if ice had replaced her spine. "And you really think he'll do it? That he'll find me?"

Green eyes met hers, and something in their depths made the ice expand to fill her stomach.

"Megamind?"

He glanced away again, like he couldn't bear to see her reaction. "Sweetheart, there were..." his throat bobbed.

"There were photographs enclosed with the letter," he answered quietly, as if lowering the tone of his words would somehow lessen their impact. "They were… One was of you standing just inside the glass doors of your balcony—"

"Oh my God." she breathed, moving to collapse into the desk chair.

"One was of you leaving the news station. The last was of you jogging in Hill Top Park." He finally met her gaze again. "Sweetheart… I'm sorry… He has already found you." He knelt beside her, turned the desk chair to face him, and took her hands in his, looking earnestly up at her. "I have to try to stop him. You know I do. I'm the good guy now. But I can't do that and watch your back at the same time. Not if we're apart. That's why I really, really need you to stay here."

Something in her vaguely understood that she should care about that, but it suddenly seemed as if her brain, overwhelmed with terror, had opted to turn itself off. Her heart, in contrast, was screaming and she felt like she might be physically ill. This, Roxanne decided distantly, must be what a panic attack felt like.

"What about… my job?"

"Telecommute."

Her laugh sounded bitter and wild in her own ears. "I'm an on-scene correspondent. I can't telecommute."

"Then take some time off," he offered gently. "We'll talk to the station, or have the officials contact them. This is little different from a witness protection program. And it's only temporary. They'll have to understand."

"And if they don't?"

"I'll make them."

Roxanne buried her face in her palms. She heard the tread of leather boots, the sighing swish of a cape, and deft hands began massaging her shoulders. Megamind's voice spoke gently behind her.

"Roxanne. Listen to me. It will be alright. Everything will be alright. We are going to get through this. He hasn't found this place, and I've made some alterations to ensure it stays that way."

"How do you know he hasn't found your hideout?" she asked between her fingers.  "You can't possibly know that."

"He hasn't.  Trust me.  His letter was sent to my fan mail post box. Ares likes keeping people off balance, making them feel he has the upper hand. If he had known where my Lair was, he would have found a way to deliver it directly here. He didn't, which means we're safe. I've been working on some enhancements for a while, but Minion and I have put in a lot of hours to finish them quickly. This entire building is now outfitted with a cloaking shield: a hard light hologram similar to what the holowatch produces. I took it down briefly when I saw you approach, and put it back up once you came in. Now all anyone will see is an empty, condemned building. No dome, no signs of life, nothing."

Turning the chair to face him, she suddenly threw her arms around Megamind and held him close.  He knelt to let her hide her face against his neck.  Like a child awakened from a bad dream, Roxanne buried herself in his warmth and breathed in the comfort of his scent.

"I really am sorry," her words were muffled by his skin. "I'm so very sorry."

He ran gentle hands up and down her arms.  "I am too."

"You shouldn't be."

"If you weren't with me, this never would have happened."

"No.  People assumed I dated Metro Man, and they would have assumed the same about us." 

"I should have realized sooner.  I should have done better."

"You're doing your best."

"We both are."

"I'm so sorry I yelled at you."

"You didn't know."

The moment of weakness passed, and Roxanne gathered herself, gluing pieces of broken confidence back together with spunky determination and brave humor.

"Yeah, well, you know, you could have told me this sooner and saved us the trouble of arguing," she jibed halfheartedly, her crooked smile appearing through tears.

His answering grin was weak, and a little sad. "I didn't want to have to tell you. Not now, not tonight. And I didn't want to ruin your holidays." His shoulders drooped slightly. "Tonight was supposed to be about cheering you up. I wanted to make you happy, not terrify the living daylights out of you."

"But I thought you liked terrifying me. Why else did you kidnap me all the time?"

"How else could I spend time with you? Besides, you were never truly scared of me. Annoyed, yes. Sometimes even angry, but never scared." He wrapped her in an embrace. "And I happen to think you're extremely sexy when you're angry."

That drew a tearful laugh from Roxanne. "Right, because, you know, that's one I've never heard before." Sighing, she looked back at her new bedroom. "Thank you for everything you've done, Megamind. If it's okay, I'll enlist the brainbots' help in moving my things tomorrow."

"I'll be glad to have them give you a hand, but we should do it late at night. That's when Ares… works. He'll be less likely to be watching your apartment."

They were silent for a moment.

"Well," Roxanne's voice held a tone of determined calm. "At least we have a plan."

He smiled. "We have a plan."

There was another pause.

"So..." casting around for something to say, Roxanne landed on: "how long has Ares been in Metro City, and what do we know so far?"

"Not much. I got the letter last Thursday, but Ares has been laying low.  I've had brainbots guarding you twenty-four-seven."

"I thought I saw more of them around than usual.  Wait," she looked around her room with new admiration. "You managed to get all of this pulled together in six days?  That's... Darling, that's beyond impressive! That's amazing!"

"Five days, six hours, and fifty-three minutes, to be precise," Megamind answered, standing up and managing another gray smile. "Incredibly Handsome Genius, remember? You'd be surprised what can be done with a little determination, a large budget, and thousands of tireless laborers."

"Large budget?"

"I have contracts with various companies for a cut of the profits from all Megamind merchandise sold, among other things."

"Seriously? That's not standard hero procedure, is it?"

"Being a good guy doesn't exactly pay well."

"Wayne never did that."

"Ha. Metro Man was adopted by a multi-billionaire. He has a trust fund big enough to support an entire third-world country, not to mention that all of his abilities are inborn. I, on the other hand, have supplies to buy, bills to pay, evil inventions to construct..."

"I thought they weren't evil any more?"

"Well, evil only to evildoers." His burgeoning grin faltered. "Roxanne, be honest, are you angry at me? For not telling you sooner? I know you always hated it when Metro Man treated you like a powerless victim, and I want you to know that isn't why I didn't tell you. I just wanted the brainbots to do a little reconnocense first. And, as I said, I wanted you to enjoy the holiday season before I threw this at you."

Drawing close to him, she cupped his cheek and looked sincerely into his face. "No. I'm not angry. Not now that I understand." She hugged him once more. "But from now on I need you to trust me enough to just tell me things. I can't be prepared if I don't know."

"It's a deal."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She pulled away enough to look into his eyes. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

He kissed her cheek. "I suppose it's possible I could have handled it a little better."

She finally managed a real grin. "Maybe a little." She held her hands a foot apart. "Like this much."

"Oh, come on, not that much." He moved her arms closer until her palms were only a couple of inches apart. "Maybe that much."

"This much," she spread her hands even wider.

His mouth quirked. "Now you're just being unreasonable."

Despite everything, they both laughed, releasing the tension in the air.

"I'm glad I'm here," Roxanne said.

"Me too." He held her, kissed her brow. "You'll be happy here, Sweetheart. I'll do everything I can… I want this to be comfortable, and good… You like having your own space, and that's fine, but I want you to know that this is your home, too. Always."

She felt herself smile, although the expression lacked its usual confident strength. He wasn't wrong. Sometimes Roxanne felt she practically lived in his hideout already. Well, the past few weeks had been an exception. While the blue hero had dealt with a plot by the Doom Syndicate and the usual holiday season uptick in thefts, Roxanne had been forced to travel, first covering a rare blizzard in the Upper Penninsula, then a meeting of the newly formed Michigan State Disability Caucus in Lansing, and finally attempts by members of the state legislature to conceal certain business interest's tax frauds. She and her lover had only been able to steal occasional dates during her brief returns home, and he had spent one night in a Lansing hotel with her. Even when life wasn't so busy, however, the reporter and her lover rarely spent the night at her apartment anymore. Not since Ms. Farley, a sweet but nosy elderly woman who lived next door, had caught Roxanne out in the hall one evening and invited her over for what had turned out the be the most awkwardly embarrassing cup of tea in all history.

"Listen, Dear," the old lady had said amicably after a few minutes of small talk. "Between you, me, and the lamppost, I just want to tell you that I am really very happy you and our hero have such a healthy and loving relationship, but— I really hate to bring it up— but maybe three in the morning is a little late for… nocturnal activities? And… well… you might just ask him to be a little more circumspect about his language? It's only that Len Paszek mentioned that his little boy asked last week what all those funny words the Defender kept shouting meant…"

Megamind had blushed fuchsia when she'd told him, and admitted that one of his new friends on the police force had laughingly informed him they had received no fewer than three noise complaints from other tenants in Roxanne's building.

"He seemed to think I needed to be congratulated?" the blue man had said uncertainly. "He kept slapping my back and saying I must be doing something right?"

Roxanne had felt her own cheeks burning. "I… um… yeah, that's a… pretty normal human male bonding ritual…"

"Humans are strange," Megamind had informed her.

They'd spent almost every night at the Lair ever since.

"Sir, Code C and C," Minion's voice crackled from the vicinity of his master's left hand, disrupting Roxanne's thoughts.

"Code what?" Megamind asked into his wrist.

"Cookies and cocoa!" Minion explained. "Come and get it while it's—No no no! That is not a toy! Drop it! Drop it right now!"

A sound suspiciously like breaking china echoed through the watch's speaker.

Megamind and Roxanne looked at each other and laughed again. It felt good. "I suppose we had better go downstairs while the cookies are still edible," the blue hero said. "You don't mind, do you, Roxanne? It's just that— well, you know— Minion has planned out this entire evening, and it really means a lot to him…" he trailed off as Roxanne gave him his favorite knowing smile.

"Thank you and Minion both for planning tonight. Of course I want to be a part of it." She sighed, looking down one more time at the disturbing letter. "Let's just take a step back. We can deal with this tomorrow. Besides," she brightened slightly. "I wouldn't miss Minion's home baking for anything."

Megamind chuckled again. "Be sure to tell him that." With a dramatic flourish, he swept his cloak behind one shoulder and offered her his arm. "Now, Miss Ritchi," he purred in that tone that always melted her down to her toes. "If you'll come with me, please, I fully intend to spend the next several hours cuddling by the stove, if only I could find a beautiful, intelligent woman to cuddle with."

A small, very grown-up and professional part of Roxanne hated that Megamind always knew how to make her blush. The rest of her, however, adored it.

"I think I can oblige," she answered, linking her arm through his.

He returned her smile and led her downstairs.

[priyabarman]

༉‧₊˚✧ mishti rahman , cis woman , she/her — did you see that priya barman was trending last night ? the twenty three year old fashion designer has been getting a lot of press lately . i think it’s due to them being so + graceful & + nurturing , but i always thought they seemed - indecisive & - deceiving . their fans always say they remind them of yellow daisies spread across a windy field, closets full of designer items, dancing in the rain, the smell of rose and saffron though . i wonder if they’ve found out REDACTED yet … i guess we’ll have to wait and see .

general

full name: priyasha barman

nicknames: priya

age: twenty-three

date of birth: june 14th, 1997

hometown: manhattan, new york

sexuality: bisexual

current residence: los angeles, california

appearance

hair color: dark-brown

eye color: dark-brown

height: 5'4”

biography

priyasha barman had known wealth her entire life. both her parents had come from affluent families, their marriage practically being planned from the moment they were born. her mother’s side were purely business, with an oil company that had been passed down for generations. her father’s side had been involved in politics, rising through the ranks with each generation. since priya was 13, her father has been the long-time, bipartisan us ambassador to bangladesh.

priya hadn’t had the same drive as her parents did, she was a much more creative spirit growing up. her wealth had given her access to doing whatever she want, but truly, the only thing she’d been interested in was fashion. first it began with magazines, constantly staying up to date with the latest fashions. but then she began designing her own clothes, wearing them to event functions and dinner parties hosted by her parents, telling everyone that she was wearing a priya barman original. after high school, priya went on to attend parsons for fashion. with her combined wealth and credibility in fashion, priya had no problem getting her name to be heard, and to have other celebrities wear her designs. while her first few collections were all collaborations with other high end designer brands, priya launched her own company a year ago: BARMAN.

the barman name became one that was known in practically any industry, a status symbol that was one of a kind. priya’s company was highly anticipated, which is why it’s continued to do so well. she’d worked her way into fashion week’s across the world: new york, paris, milan, etc. her brand focused on creating two distinct collections every season, one that was higher end, showcased on runways, and another that make fashion accessible to all with its lower price range.

headcanons

priya is very like … unsuspecting. she definitely appears very kind and sweet to most people and definitely to all of her fans, but there are times when she can be vicious and manipulative

super bad at relationships, has had one long term relationship in her life (wc) but other than that, she kind of goes through people left and right

a little sneaky?? sometimes she’ll lie about what she’s doing for absolutely no reason

she comes off as very friendly and welcoming, but she truly doesn’t get close to that many people. no particular reason why

never wears the same piece of clothing twice, is constantly wearing her own designs but won’t mention it until you ask (and then she literally will not shut the fuck up so please don’t ask)

wanted connections

can’t get you out of my mind: so priya has an ex-boyfriend that she really just can’t forget about. the details on why they broke up can be plotted out but basically. priya is still hung up on him even tho she’s been with other people

ride or die: her platonic soulmate <3 the person she literally tells everything too like if one of them gets into some shit they’ve always got each others back

an almost brother: priya’s an only child so like i’d love for her to have a guy friend that’s strictly platonic (or at least on her side) but they’re very close with each other and she finds it easy to confide in him

someone who sees through her: someone that sees through her act and can tell that she’s not quite as nice as she makes everyone think

exes: obviously nothing as serious as her most recent ex, but could’ve ended on good or bad terms !!

literally anything! i’d love a girl gang, some other flings/hookups she’s had, childhood friends, anything!!

[thirstyforlulu]

Alucard x Reader: For Your Convenience Chapter 3

Your plan had failed spectacularly. It wasn’t a great plan you had to admit, but when there’s an angry vampire staring you down you kind of have to get creative.

You kept your head down as you walked to the Inn. This was so embarrassing, you were not looking forward to having to face him again, and would he even believe your explanation?

When you stepped in, the innkeeper seemed both surprised and relieved to see you. They had kept your things just as you’d left them. You found everything right in its place, not a single item missing, which made you feel a little more at ease. It’s not that you’d suspected the innkeeper to steal your things, but you couldn’t shake your inner worrying.

“Thank you, please, take a little something for your time,” You said, offering the innkeeper some coins.

“No no,” they replied, pushing your hand back. “It was nothing, my dear.”

You didn’t tell them about the deal you’d made, choosing not to worry them. Surely word would spread with time and they’d hear about it when someone else put it to them gently, when things were more certain.

With your things in tow, you headed back to the alley. Normally, when approaching something unpleasant you would walk slowly, but right now you didn’t have the time to waste. Taking too much time would probably just anger him even more.

The alleyway was just as empty as when you’d left it. The vampire leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Hearing you approach, he stood up straight, walking over and grabbing your suitcase.

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re still too weak. If I don’t do this I’ll end up having to carry you as well,” He explained.

There was nothing else for you to say, so you shut your mouth and went back to looking at the ground. On the way back, he made the trip look easy. While you struggled not to slip on wet logs and moss he jumped over them like it was nothing, even with the added weight of your luggage.

Your struggles were met with disappointed glares from him until eventually he couldn’t wait any longer and he ended up helping you.

“You are impossible y/n,” He groans as he grabs your arm and roughly pulls you up and over whatever you were climbing

“T-thank you. Wait, I don’t know your name,” You realized.

His eyes twitched in annoyance. Turning around without a word, he continued walking, trusting that you would fall into step behind him.

“Since we’re going to be spending so much time together, shouldn’t I know your name?” You pressed.

It was hard to keep up with him, you were nearly speed walking while he was barely above a shuffle. He sighed, leaning his head back in annoyance.

“Alucard, but you will call me sir, or master,” He hissed.

“Do you not like your name?” You asked.

“No, I just don’t want you getting any ideas. You will know your place as my food, you are beneath me and therefore do not deserve to call me by my name,” Alucard replied.

You gulped at the severity of his answer. It was hard for you to accept the whole “being his possession” thing, but you knew you had to. For now, you would just have to learn to live with it.

His castle finally came into view as the forest cleared. It was so foreboding at night if Alucard weren’t there with you, you probably would have turned around and ran back to the village.

He opened the door in front of you but did not hold it open. You were on your own to close it behind you. He took your things up to your room and threw them on your bed. As you placed the things you had carried on the ground, he walked past you to the door.

“As punishment for disobeying me, you are not allowed to leave this room for the next three days. The door will be locked from the outside so the only way you could get out would be the window, and if you try, I hope you can make it across the lawn in 3 seconds because I can do it in 4,” He threatened.

“I promise I won’t. Thank you again,” You replied, bowing to him.

“Your thanks mean nothing to me, the only value in you is what runs through your veins,” He growled as he shut the door.

The sound of the key turning in the lock was the last sound you heard. You thought maybe you heard him walking away but it was so quiet you weren’t sure.

With him gone you could finally relax. It was like a weight was lifted off your body, the heat even returned to your extremities. The sudden change left you lightheaded, making you sit down on the bed for a moment to regain your composure. Once you felt back to normal, you stood up and began addressing your things.

The wardrobe was perfect for your clothes, and the desk managed to fit all of your magic supplies you’d brought with you. While you were on lockdown you’d have plenty of time to practice what you’d been learning.

Once your bags were empty, you put them under your bed, changed into some pajamas, and went to bed.

That night you had a hard time getting to sleep. Every little noise spooked you, made you think he was coming back. You didn’t think he would hurt you, but at the same time, you didn’t know him well enough to conclusively say otherwise. As time went in, you grew so tired that you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore, and you finally fell asleep.

Dreams brought you no comfort. In your dream, you were lying in your bed staring up at the ceiling with your arms and legs spread out to your side. You tried to move them but with no luck, it was like they were tied to the mattress.

The door opened and Alucard stepped in. He had an unsettling grin on his face and he approached your bed confidently. You tried to fight your invisible restraints, but the more you struggled the more he grinned. Once he was by your side, he reached down and started to touch you. His hands were so cold and this cold spread to any body part he touched. He started low and slowly worked his way up towards your face. He cupped your cheek and leaned in toward your neck.

“You are mine forever,” He whispered as his mouth approached your neck.

Just before his fangs could sink into you, you awoke with a start. You sat up in bed, your breath ragged, your covers missing, and looked around in a panic. There was no one in the room other than you. Sunlight was streaming in from the window and a plate of food was sitting on your desk. When you got up to inspect it, you found your blanket on the ground, likely thrown off while you tossed and turned.

The food was still hot, meaning he’d been there recently. Had he seen you tossing and turning? Did he notice your blanket was off your body? You tried not to think about it as you sat down and started eating.

It was oddly quiet now. The only noises came from outside in the form of a bird or the occasional squirrel. The castle was nowhere near as loud as it had been when you were trying to sleep. Maybe it had just been windy last night, that combined with how on edge you were would explain why it had seemed so loud, but this explanation did little to put you at ease.

When you finished eating, you set the plate aside and pulled out one of your books. Your crumpled bookmark was right where you’d left it, it fluttered out when you opened to that page.

For the next few hours, you decided to sit and read. The book you’d brought was very interesting so you didn’t mind being cooped up. You had a few more books with you but once those ran out you had no idea what you were going to do for the rest of your punishment.

You heard some footsteps approaching which you assumed belonged to Alucard until you heard a voice you didn’t recognize. The door wiggled as someone on the other side tested to see if it was unlocked.

“Now why would he lock this room?” A voice said.

You froze in place, your heart racing in your chest.

“Why does it matter?” Another voice asked.

“Maybe he put something good in here, let’s check it out,” The first voice replied, followed by the sound of someone picking the lock.

You panicked, running over to your bed as quietly as possible and sliding under. There was clear evidence that someone had been in the room, your things were everywhere, so whoever these intruders were would have no trouble telling this room is occupied. Who were they and what did they want?

When the door opened, you had to fight to keep your scream in your throat.

“Is there a reason you look so excited Jan?” One of the men asked the other.

They stepped into the room, their shoes were only a few feet away from your face. One wore black laced up boats while the other wore white dress shoes. From the way their legs turned, you could tell they were looking around.

“Well, seems our friend is hiding something. I want to know what, or rather who it is,” The second man replied.

You were certain he’d seen your things and was aware that someone was there by the way he talked.

“What does it matter? Perhaps he’s letting someone stay over?”

“Why would he lock a guest in? No, I think he’s got something more interesting going on here.”

They wandered around the room, looking at all of your things. At one point one of them grabbed your book and tossed it to the ground uninterested. You heard the door to the wardrobe open followed by an amused “hmm”.

“These clothes reek of human. How peculiar. He’s never kept a human around before.”

You stared at the feet of the one by the wardrobe in horror. If he could tell you were human just by the way your clothes smelled, that means he had to be something inhuman. The realization made you tremble.

You’d been so focused on the man by the wardrobe, that you didn’t realize that you’d lost sight of the other pair of feet. They reappeared right in front of you, pausing before the man leaned down. Two bright yellow eyes stared back at you from mere inches away.

“Found you~”

[blog-sliverofjade]

Of Doms & Subs 5: Field Trip

Pairing: Angus Hopper x OFC

Summary:  What's a submissive female to do when she fights her nature and goes on the run as a Lone wolf to avoid being assimilated into a pack?

Word count: 1896

Of Doms & Subs Master List

“Don’t feel guilty, think of it as a bribe,” Mickayla said when she’d told me we were going shopping and I was to leave my wallet behind.  I stared at her.  “Think of trying out packs as like dating.  This is a date at a fine restaurant with a dozen roses,” she explained.  “And just like dates are a way for potential mates to prove they can provide, this is how we prove that we can take care of our members.”

“It sounds more like you’re looking for an excuse to go shopping,” I said dryly.  “But you’ll harass me until I give in, so ok.”

“You already know her so well,” Matt said with a hint of a smirk.  She elbowed him in the ribs and she only put up a token struggle when he wrapped her up in his arms.  I looked away.  The whole pack seemed to be much more touchy-feely than I was comfortable with.

“Meh, I’d go for another five minutes, tops, before I pulled the Dommy voice on you.”  She tossed her head so that Matt momentarily ended up with a face full of her hair.

“Dommy voice?”

“Dominant and mommy.  Dommy,” Matt explained, nuzzling his wife’s hair.

“Oh.”  I hid my blush by turning to shrug into my jacket.  Don’t ask if you don’t wanna know the answer.

The first stop was Pike Place Market, which was already packed despite the early hour.  Matt led the way to plow a path for us through the crowd with Mickayla following him so that all I could see was her curtain of golden hair and perky butt.  Shane was on my heels, but not so close that he was breathing down my neck.  None of the others had wanted to go shopping, preferring instead to play video games.  Some things stay the same no matter the species.

I normally treat shopping like I imagine Navy SEALs treat missions: get in, get target, and get out ASAP.  Mickayla obviously did not subscribe to this philosophy.  Most of the items we had acquired so far were for her.  I was too busy trying to ignore the din and overwhelming aromas invading my senses.  My wolf also wanted to snap at every stranger who bumped into us, which thankfully was only once or twice.  Most people took one look at my companions and steered a wide berth.

We were climbing a stairway that seemed to narrow even further and the low ceiling felt like it was pressing down on my head.  I swayed on the edge of the stair as the wolf surged up, tearing at me, wanting to run from the mass of consumers.  Pain rippled along my skin and burst like spikes in my joints until I nearly fell backward until Shane stepped forward until his firm chest allowed me to lean against him.  An instant later, Matt and Mickayla flanked me, forcing the flow of shoppers to part around the island that we made.

Normally I didn’t like people touching me.  Certainly not people I’d known less than a day and not so close as this.  But I relaxed into the warmth and comfort of their bodies.  Their combined scent surrounded me like a warm, familiar blanket.  No one said anything.  They didn’t have to.  Their eyes all had the same look of understanding.  My whole body felt raw.  If I had shifted in the middle of Pike’s Place on Labor Day weekend…

“Reason number four why packs are awesome: dominants can help when you’re about to lose it,” Mickayla said gently, having seen the panic on my face.  She slipped her arm through mine in what was becoming a familiar gesture.  “Let’s head some place a little quieter.”

The weather was a bit too grey and windy for anyone other than locals and werewolves, so we had the waterfront mostly to ourselves as we sipped hot drinks from the first Starbucks location.  The movement helped ease the need to run and calm my wolf.  After a while, Mickayla paused to check that a bench was dry before sitting and patting the spot next to her.  The men wandered a little way upwind, arguing about the game last night.

“Ok fine, you made your point,” I sighed and sank down next to her.  “What was it this time, how long I’d last before going furry?”

“Not on this one,” she shook her head and immediately had to pick strands of hair out of her mouth when the wind caught it.  “But that’s not the question you should be asking.”

I thought about that for a minute.  “What would’ve happened if ya’ll hadn’t been there.”  It was a statement, not a question.  She gave it time for the full implications of that sink in.

“You’re not used to having to rely on others.  Not since the divorce.”  I glared at her out of the corner of my eye.  I did not like being psychoanalyzed at the best of times.  This was certainly not one.

“Gee, doc, are ya gonna tell me that I use sarcasm as a defense mechanism, too?”

“If you’re so self-aware, pup, then why did we have to have this little exercise?”  She bumped my shoulder firmly with her own.

“Because you can tell a kid something’s hot, but won’t believe you till they touch it.”  I slumped down further on the bench.

“Head of the class,” she saluted me with her coffee.

“Don’t make me bite you” I grumped.

“Talk like that’ll earn you a spot as teacher’s pet,” she winked.  I groaned and shook my head at the pun before taking a sip of my drink.  It was something fancy, “full of sugar and cream and calories, everything a growing pup needs” as Mickayla had put it when she’d ordered.  Having a dominant around to step in and order was pretty nice when I was intimidated by the menu with its foreign terms and still too rattled to think straight.

“Speaking of petting.”  Mickayla laughed at the segue.  “John said that unmated females belong to the Alpha.”  That whole sentence tasted like rotten lemons, which fanned the embers of my dormant anger.  “Shit, is that the reason unmated females are second class citizens?  So we’re basically whores for the Alpha because we have no other choice?  If I won’t fuck Angus then I’m delivered to Eugene with a pretty bow?  Montana’s, what, a ‘re-education centre’ if I don’t put out?”

“Montana’s for new wolves, those who can’t control their wolf, and those who need to heal,” she said firmly.  “If you don’t want to move here or to Eugene, you can stay in Aspen Creek until you find a place and a pack you do like.  As for being second class citizens, it used to be that females couldn’t participate in dominance challenges and gained status through their mate.  While that seems to be slowly changing, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you won’t be treated with respect.”

“Since I couldn’t care less about kicking butt and taking responsibility, I don’t have to worry about that, which is why I’m considered submissive in the first place,” I said with dawning comprehension.

“See, Ian was wrong, you can be taught!” Mickayla laughed with a wink.

“But what about the other… thing?”

“Wolves are very possessive,” she said slowly, as if having difficulty translating her thoughts into words.  “It’s supposed to be a way to protect the women, sometimes from unwanted attention from their packmates.  Some Alphas may take advantage of what’s meant to be a protective role, in much the same way some college professors tend to go after undergrads.”

“Are there many Alphas like that?”  I had a gut feeling that Angus was not like that, but then again, mama always said that my “picker” when it came to men was broken.

“Rape is not condoned, but since it’s not been a problem here, that’s something you would have to ask Angus, Matt, or Tom about if you’re thinking of going elsewhere.  Here, they have to answer to Angus.  If any of them so much as even make you uncomfortable he’ll have their balls in a sling because you don’t have a mate to protect you.  They all know that Matt would use their skull as a soup bowl if they so much as looked at me funny.”

Her scent had changed subtly with an almost salty quality that had nothing to do with the sea air.  She looked down with amusement at me as I sniffed her arm.  “You’re learning how to smell a lie!  About the soup bowl anyway, you don’t keep evidence lying around.  Good girl,” she said teasingly and petted my hair.  I mock growled without meeting her eyes.  She tapped my nose with a finger.  “Bad pup, no cookie.”  I straightened from my slouch with a laugh.  “Come on, let’s hit a couple of stores that’ll be quieter than tourist trap central.”

“Do I have to?” I asked tiredly.

“Sweetie,” she slung an arm around my shoulders.  “Your pants would be falling off if you didn’t have that belt tightened within an inch of its life.  I think you might have even managed to put a pleat or two in it like that, not a good look.  You need clothes that fit your new body.”  She plucked at my jacket, which tented around me before settling again.  I wasn’t necessarily fat before, but I certainly had carried more than a few extra pounds.  Two weeks in the backcountry had fixed that.  Oh, and becoming a werewolf helped, too.  I groaned in defeat and at the thought of more crowds.

Mickayla returned triumphant from the hunt, seemingly having gained the energy that the new wolf appeared to have lost.  Ellie quickly fled to her room with several large, bulging shopping bags.

“How went the great experiment?” I asked far more calmly than I felt.

“Took it like a champ, boss,” Shane answered while still untying his boots.  “Lasted ninety minutes.”

“I was ready to call it at an hour myself,” muttered Matt.  “Shrieking kids.”  We all winced in empathy.

“I’m thinking that John was doing his best to keep her isolated,” Mickayla frowned.

“Do you think he wanted her for a mate?”  My wolf paced in agitation.  He wanted to taste this John’s blood under our fangs.

“Not The Hills Have Eyes, but barefoot and not-pregnant in the kitchen…”  she grimaced.  I felt my eyes shift to gold then back as I struggled to convince my wolf that there was nothing here for us to rend.  “He told her about unmated females being under the protection of the Alpha, and led her to believe that it’s exploitive in nature,” she continued once I calmed.

“I see, thank you, Mickayla.”  I turned on my heel and retreated to my office to make a call.  Once the door was shut, it was virtually soundproofed against werewolves.  It’s good to be the king of tech.

“I’m afraid that I don’t have any news yet, Angus,” Bran said with faint amusement by way of greeting.

“I’m afraid that I do,” I said and conveyed Mickayla’s impressions of the situation.

“And you can’t question her directly without scaring her into running.”  I could readily picture him pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.  “Thank you.  Keep me apprised.”

[theangrypokemaniac]

I'll state from the beginning that the images below display the sort of sweet synchronicity to which only love can give life:

MaAndPaShipping is the best ship, and here are five reasons why:

1. It Made James

Like the boy do yer? Ever felt the slightest tingle of warmth at the mention of his name?

Well get down on yer knees and give thanks to his mother and father for gifting him to the world!

Where would we be without their remarkable commitment? Could James have grown into the dandified dream boat of your desires if deprived of the safety provided by his parents?

Had they not brought him up, he'd be dead, The Dog of Flanders fantasy made reality. If miraculously he survived, foraging in the wild is not conducive to a foppish personality.

Is that to yer fancy? No? Then let's have a little respect. The luxury Ma and Pa gave enabled his macaroni tendencies to reach such heights.

Their love created him! How can it not be celebrated?

You lot would ship Jessie's parents but you can't, because she has no dad, and I don't suppose you'll ever assent to his obvious identity of Windy Miller, although 'Jessie Miller' has a wonderful ring to it, so what can be done?

Should a Pa Jess be conjured for the purpose, he still buggered off, didn't he? Where's the allure in a faithless git?

I can't comprehend the obsession with Ma Jess. As soon as here she's stiff, and what is there to remember but coercing her daughter into eating snow?

Hey, I named her. What more do you want from me?

I'd rather have the living, visible ancestors, if you don't mind.

Yeah, says the history fanatic.

Why not make the most of the chances offered, and follow a devoted couple whose love made a difference to your existence?

2. Canon!

There are many ships which I find repulsive for involving depravity, or absurd as the subjects haven't met, or don't inhabit the same fictional universe.

Video et taceo: I see and I say nothing.

Neither does anyone. Forcing decent folk in to incest, bestiality etc. is quite alright.

Perverted ideas are left alone, but woe betide a Rocketshipper, because that's offensive.

It may be the only original ship left standing, with proper evidence and sanctioned by Nintendo, but no, it's fair game for undermining. People pick at your arguments, quibble constantly and NEED to register their objections NOW. You MUST be made aware of opposition. You're not to be permitted your views the way those with twisted tastes are indulged.

Why, out of tens of thousands of combinations, does making Jessie and James an item provoke hostility?

The strength of negativity actually serves as validation, for why be so concerned if it's an impossible relationship?

However sick they are, I'm not anti any ship. I can't muster sufficient interest to do it, and if I scroll on, I forget. I certainly don't attack those responsible.

Anti-Shipping is inherently nihilistic for promoting loneliness. They aren't against Rocketshipping through wanting Jessie and James to be with someone else, as an alternative is not readily available, so the outcome of it is neither finding a companion.

MaAndPaShipping attracts no sourpuss silliness, for 'tis canon beyond question. There's nothing about being 'just friends' when married with a son.

How's the state of your O.T.P.? Not looking too clever I expect, and what's your contribution: wishing, and hoping, and thinking, and praying?

Cast it off! None of that longing is necessary in these quarters, as MaAndPaShipping is a fait accompli.

Hallelujah! Wallow in that Love!

Don't you yearn for at least one ship that all of us accept by default, to the extent these aristocrats are spoken of as a single unit?

Across the internet, Ma and Pa are bracketed as 'James's parents', never 'he' and 'she', always 'they', barely counting as distinct characters. That's how undeniable the love is between them. Sheer indifference has awarded it a blessing from everyone.

MWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!

Of course, now I've drawn attention to it the moaning will start, but we all know a spoilsport when we see one.

If they had any legitimate complaints they ought to have mentioned 'em before this piece highlighted the marriage!

Except it won't have occurred to 'em previously, proving the eternal, indissoluble quality of MaAndPaShipping.

You get good value with this one.

Find a post referring to Ma and Pa as individuals and I'll have written it, for that's what you call ironic.

3. It's a Fine Rocketshipping Proxy

I was at primary school when Pokémon hit the West like the bright, bearded meteor it is, atomizing all competition for a child's attention.

I have shipped Jessie and James before I knew anyone else did it, unaware shipping was even a thing.

There are other pairs where I think: 'That seems to fit', but it's incomparable to what I feel for them.

It is part of me. I bleed it.

I have shipped it longer than most Tumblerries have dwelt upon the earth.

I used to believe, what with the hints and manga finale, that this resolution was  inevitable, and all I had to do was wait.

Well I've been patient for two decades now, thus when I look at the modern incarnation, and realise it's no nearer to that goal, and instead is further away, waiting starts to wear a bit thin.

I resent the lack of appreciation shown to the fans by the cretins in charge, how any meagre shippy inclusion is done not with an interest in deepening bonds, but with the blatant cynicism of moulding us into performing monkeys dancing to their manipulative tune.

I dislike being treated like a sea lion, expected to clap me flippers at the wave of a fish, or as a panting dog begging at top table, where, because they're desperate to maintain the status quo, every scrap flung down from above now comes with an Anti-Ship kick in the teeth, just to be sure nothing progresses. Not whilst the franchise can still be milked for all it's worth.

I have lost faith Rocketshipping will happen. What passes for Pokémon today carries not the remotest indication of any intention on the so-called writers' part to finish it that way.

Even if it did, it's not my Team Rocket, it's those skeletal, gargoyle bastardisations. My Jessie and James never got the reward they deserved.

I'm somewhat in the market for a replacement. Beneath this loathsome carapace of acid and ice beats the tender heart of a true romantic, and it must have an outlet!

Shipping Ma and Pa provides a certain spurious relief, because it's as close as you can get to Jessie and James without it being them, both biologically as his parents, but they're so similar to the duo it counts as proof in itself.

Holy Matrimony! is prime Rocketshipping territory, not merely the balloon lift, but many slight additions are as important, like the haircuts matching.

Ma and Pa are therefore Jessie and James in the past, present and future:

The past for representing Jess 'n' Jamie gone Victorian, and we've all wondered how that'd turn out.

The present as it's there right now, absent of suffering the shameless whims of morons to get what you want. 'Tis yours to savour.

The future as a glimpse of Jessie and James once married with children, and they agree:

That's how they play it given the opportunity!

What, James in blue, for his and Pa's hair, and Jessie wearing purple, like Ma's, with a red shawl for her own, and Ma Jess's orange earrings to copy the beads?

• Money!

• Bun!

• 'Tache!

• Classy pad!

• Fancy gear!

• Pampered pet!

• Identical cups of Earl Grey!

4. Original Blend

Ma and Pa have only got two fans! We care more than the entire fandom has in twenty years!

Rocketshipping art is ten a penny, so why not display a pioneering spirit, sharpen up those pencils and be inspired?

Let your mind expand and marvel at the possibilities of these unchartered territories, and I'll reblog it if it's nice.

Pay attention to the condition of it being nice. I'm not putting up with any old toss.

Real Ma and Pa is what I want too, not those Sinnoh coffin-dodgers.

It's never been done! Every drawing breaks new ground!

I don't like fan fiction, but I wouldn't say 'no' to that either. Recall the 'nice' stipulation again.

Come on, be the first amongst your friends and get ship shape!

5. It Gives Us All Hope

Suppose your favourite amour one day became canon: you imagine that's the end of the matter?

Well it ain't.

Between Ash, Misty, Brock, Jessie, James, Gary and Tracey, there are three-and-a-half out of fourteen parents (Flint doesn't count as a complete man) and one out of twenty-eight grandparents, and that's not enough!

If the series drew to a close with your beloved couple apparently walking into the happily-ever-after, there's no guarantee it'll endure. In fact, the odds are they'll split up within a few years and leave another generation to fend for themselves or starve.

That's right, so don't presume the final episode is all you need to worry about. Can you rest easy knowing it'll go pear-shaped once the camera stops rolling?

It's futile soothing one's worries with:

Oh, but they know what it's like to be alone. They'd never inflict such stress on their children.

Oh really?

Look at that poor showing of grandparents. Either Pokémon has a system reminiscent of the sci-fi film Logan's Run, where everyone over thirty is vapourized, or these disappearing maters and paters were themselves victims of abandonment.

I bet when they settled down, they thought it'd be different for their kids, they'd make sure of it, but no, off they went down that same route of feckless self-indulgence, and that's being kind assuming they intended not to repeat history.

Depressing eh? What's the good in any of us surrendering to romance, real or otherwise, if love is but a mayfly of emotion, and all dreams are doomed to die?

Then Ma and Pa arrive, and suddenly the storm clouds part for a ray of heavenly light.

It's not only that they made the effort in what was probably an arranged marriage and have stayed together from youth, it's that they've stayed together when no one else has, which augments its value.

When separation is commonplace, sticking it out becomes rarer and rarer as any belief in the sanctity of wedlock erodes with every failure.

If they didn't bother, why should I? What's the use when it won't work?

Once that idea enters your head, it's over, and your gloom-laden attitude fulfils itself.

Society is collapsing about Ma and Pa's ears, but they persevere nevertheless, refusing to buckle under the turgid malaise engulfing the arrogant and weak.

It's bloody beautiful, man!

You may suggest an environment of supreme wealth erases normality, and to their class and time period divorce is still taboo, so they don't really have much of choice but to remain wedded.

Ah, but it's not as if they simply tolerate one another for appearances, or carried on for the sake of their son (which is more than anyone else did besides), not when he walked out on them.

They've been married longer than James has lived, so at least eighteen years (don't all squeal at once), and they're still blissfully contented!

They hold hands!

They use terms of endearment like 'dear' and 'my precious'!

They were made for one another!

They work as a team!

They want the same thing for James!

It could bring a stone angel to tears it's so beautiful!

See what success can be achieved when you try? When you endeavour to love the one you're with and make yourself worth loving in return?

Better that than chucking 'em at the first sign of trouble.

Ma and Pa is such an irrevocable union even the despair of losing their only child failed to tear 'em asunder, and that'd defeat many, but not this husband and wife.

Be grateful, for it means all is not in vain.

It doesn't have to be misery and pain: love can last despite the pressure of a wretched, hollow culture bent on self-destruction. Your ship might just succeed too.

God bless 'em for keeping the magic alive!

...

Why do I have the presentiment that I'm going to regret encouraging support?

[rob3rtruth3er4ordblog]

Video Game Review: The Last of Us Part II

Creating a sequel to one of the best games of its generation was never going to be an easy feat. But if there is any developer capable of living up to such a task, it is developer, Naughty Dog. And while the gritty tone, satisfying gameplay, vibrant environments, deep characters, and well-crafted themes remain, with some enhancements, one of the biggest praises of the original Last of Us, its storytelling, this time around is its biggest downfall.

The last of Us Part II picks up five years after the original in Jackson, Wyoming. There, we are reintroduced to main characters Joel, Ellie, and Tommy. For the most part, life is good and prevailing, except for Joel and Ellie’s relationship. We later find out why that is. But not soon after our introduction, a catastrophic event takes place that sets the main story in motion; A tale of revenge.

Just like its predecessor, The Last of Us Part II is a beautiful game. It is one of the first things players will notice before even controlling a character. Just as the Last of Us pushed the PlayStation 3 to its limits, The Last of Us part II shows what the PlayStation 4 can do when a game is built for it from the ground up. Whether players are experiencing the snowy, cold, and windy environments of Jackson, Wyoming, the beautiful, bright, sun, or the gray, rainy, and dreary locations of Seattle, Washington, The Last of Us Part II captures the beauty, dread, and terror in glorious fashion. The environments perfectly capture the tone of what players are about to encounter. Whether it is riding a horse and getting a break from the chaos for however long that may last, sneaking through high grass in terrible weather, or dropping into an abandoned, dark and quiet building not knowing who or what is lurking around any corner. And while the environments are great, character animations are also improved, and it also adds another depth to its storytelling. Being able to see the hurt, agony, sadness, and even happiness (during the few moments it occurs) is phenomenal. It is another subtle but effective way to tell a story.

 Along with its presentation, the gameplay also sees welcomed enhancements. Like its predecessor, the combat is solid. Shooting, punching, and using the variety of weapons available has weight to it. You can feel the weight of every gun when it fires, every bullet or arrow when it hits its mark, and the breakage of body parts when using melee items.

Crafting is also back and is as simple as it was to use previously. Like its predecessor, items are scattered throughout locations and are used to crafts different items like health kits, Molotov cocktails, arrows, bombs, and melee upgrades. Players will find supplements around as well to upgrade different skill trees that range from improving health, crafting speed, improving listening mode range, and stealth improvements. Just like items used for crafting, there are only so many supplements players will find, so picking a skill tree, or different skills from multiple skill trees that seem more suitable to a particular place style is crucial.

New to the game, which adds more depth to the combat, is workstations. Here, players will use tools found to upgrade weaponry. And just like other materials for crafting, players must make choices on what expect of an item to upgrade, and what guns to do it for as most players won’t find enough tools to upgrade every expect of every gun before reaching the end. The scarcity of crafting materials, skill tree supplementation, and weapon tool upgrades makes for an intense and satisfying gaming experience as players will need to utilize every tool in their arsenal as the game reaches its later stages.

Exploring is also much bigger this time around. The enhanced movement accommodates this by allowing players to now jump, climb, and go prone to explore a variety of locations while also being used to evade enemies. Players are not given a mini-map while exploring, which adds more depth because the game does not inform whether an area is clear. Because I had to decide if I wanted to take what resources I had left to explore and possibly find more stuff or end up in a bad or worse situation made for intense decision making. I enjoyed making those decisions, but since there is no way to determine if an area is clear or not by using a mini-map as is present in other titles, could be a negative for the completionists out there.

As illustrated, The Last of Us Part II does so many things well. However, where the game falters is its storytelling. The game suffers from pacing issues and a gameplay choice that feels like it’s trying to justify a decision made by developers early in the game. The Last of Us Part II suffers from the same thing I felt Red Dead Redemption II suffered from, straying away too often from feeling like a video game. There are many times throughout the game where the pace slows down dramatically, which is welcome after a highly intense scene or gameplay scenario. But instead of a cut scene or maybe just a brief gameplay walk-through, there are several moments throughout the game where players are directed to just point and click at objects. Gameplay segments that could have had the same story beats happen in a more condensed fashion ended up being stretched out for no reason and ruined the pace of the game at times. There were many times throughout my play through, where I found myself flat out bored, which feels weird to say about a title such as this.

But the biggest issue with The Last of Us Part II is a gameplay choice that will surely be controversial. Some players will welcome the choice, some may be indifferent about it, while others will hate it. I found myself on the side of hating it. My reason is not the change itself; it is the possible reason behind it. The change does not feel as though it was needed. Among many things, one of the biggest praises of the original Last of Us was its storytelling. Naughty Dog portrayed complicated characters by magnificently drawing the line between what makes someone good or bad in a Last of Us type of world. And while there were good guys and bad guys based on the game’s portrayal, the line between them was never so far apart from each other. That is what made the characters so rich, and the ending to The Last of Us so impactful. It gave players multiple ways to view a character we spent so many hours protecting, learning, bonding with, and trusting—a person who, for the most part, was a clear good guy. But by the end, anyone could have their interpretation, and everyone could be right. But with The Last of Us part II, the gameplay choice the developers made feels more like it’s trying to justify a story choice earlier in the narrative by forcing players to bond with a character we don’t know. Instead of making the hard option as done previously, the developers tried to make players humanize and sympathize with a character to justify their narrative. It felt forceful and unnecessary, and the gameplay choice also added to the games pacing issues by adding even more walk and click moments, that added time to the game that was not needed.

Sequels are never easy, especially a sequel to a highly anticipated title or franchise. Change too much and risk moving too far away from what made the original great. But keep too much the same and risk not being inventive enough. Fortunately, and unfortunately, The Last of Us Part II hits both of those notes. It’s solid gameplay returns with impactful combat, an easy to use crafting and skill tree system, amazing environments, voice acting, and character design. But a gameplay choice, while having some amazing and memorable moments of its own, for the most part, feels unnecessary and as though it is trying to justify a controversial choice. And while overall The last of Us part II is a good game, Naughty Dog made a sequel that had the potential to be better than its predecessor but falls short for one of the main reasons that made its predecessor so great; Its storytelling.

Score: 8/10

[venus-says]

Futari wa Pretty Cure Splash Star 24-37

Are we on a new moon cycle already? I'm feeling the wind a little different for some reason.

Starting its second half, Splash Star finally got more bold to step further away from the original series. It still has it's similarities, at this point I believe they'll never be completely different, but I do believe they're unique enough to shine on its own and be its own thing. I know I sound repetitive mentioning this thing all the time, but it's because I like seeing this journey of they slowly finding their own identity which I think it's very important seeing that this is the first series without Nagisa and Honoka.

But enough of comparisons, this is a review of Splash Star and not a post to compare both seasons.

I gotta say this third quarter felt a little disappointing, but to their defense, this is something I feel with all precure seasons so it's not much of the show's own fault but the structure of being a year-long show. But even with this disappointment, I feel like I enjoyed this portion a lot more than I enjoyed this same period of time in the most three recent seasons that aired. And I think part of that is because they were able to spread out important plot points, for example the mid-season upgrade came in episode 30 and not right after the new ark began. Another thing that helped a lot during this part was the characters, the cast we already knew was great and the new additions were full of life and personality so even when nothing interesting was happening it was still lots of fun to watch.

Probably the biggest thing that happened here was the introduction of two "new" Cures that brought something new to the table and opened new doors for different things, other dynamics, and just a good change of pace to not make us feel like we've stagnated a whole lot. If there was a point I disliked is that the gloominess for Michiru and Kaoru didn't last long, I know this is a show for kids and more often than not they want to be positive so this wouldn't last all that long anyway, but at least the reveal that Kaoru and Michiru are still alive and they're just being held captive should've happened maybe when they got the new forms or when they defeated one of the generals. But this isn't such a big problem, it just could've been better.

Saki and Mai continue to be very fun, I enjoy watching them and I love that they're still keeping the focus very well balanced between these two. Though I feel like they haven't changed all that much, I thought that after losing Kaoru and Michiru they would grow a little, maybe change a few aspects of their characters, and while we had a deeply emotional moment during episode 24 I feel like very little of that remained with them, and this is pretty much why I wish the reveal had happened a little later. Though I still enjoy them as characters, I wish Saki's crush on Mai's brother had been dropped already because it's pretty obvious this won't go anywhere, but since it's not something that is used a lot it doesn't bother me as much.

The Fairy team has gotten bigger with Moop and Fuup joining the crew and I really like them. I was afraid we would have another Pollun & Lullun situation, but no! They're very different, they're very funny, I love that they're basically children raised by TV and they keep reproducing things they watch on the screen, they were definitely a great addition to the cast. But I have a problem with aesthetics here, not of the characters themselves but the toys they've become. XD Like, what is Flappy and Choppy new item forms supposed to be? You know, I appreciate stepping away from making your fairies cellphones, but really, what are they??? Also who the hell thought a toy PC (not even a laptop!) was a good idea to put your fairies in and grant the Cures new weapons? This is probably one of the most unpractical things EVER!

Going to our "new" Cures, I like their designs just fine. My question is, was it really necessary to give them new Cure names? Because they don't look all that different, especially Windy, and they can change to which form they want to transform into so shouldn't these be called just for changes? I don't know, I think if they wanted to make them really assume new Cure identities they should've made their design way more different, and I reiterate, ESPECIALLY in Windy's case that not only look very similar to Egret but also has basically the same powers. With that being said, I absolutely love their new attack in this form, I love how their stream become two comets and the background is basically a galaxy, I don't know how I've missed this detail in all of the "All Precure Attacks" compilations I've seen on YouTube, honestly this is such a step up from both Twin Stream Splash and Spiral Heart Splash (that is the new attack they got for their original forms), it is just awesome.

I don't think I've mentioned them before, but in this portion, we got a very nice focus on their classmates and it was pretty fun, for some reason, I started to like Yuuko a lot and I can't pinpoint why but I root for her to be with Kenta by the end? Don't ask me for explanations because I don't have them. Maybe this was my subconscious finding a way to become bearable for me to watch Kenta because I absolutely hate him and the show gives him a lot of filler episodes. Whatever the reason may be, the side characters like their teacher, or Saki's senpai in the softball club, were pretty good.

Now, the real stars are the villains, that after a very inexpressive character, blessed us with two amazing new generals. To begin, I like that they really saved the best for last and are using their more powerful generals, and even with the cure's new powers they're still pretty hard to defeat on their own, I think it's very important to keep the power level balanced so the show doesn't become boring, we also got more elaborated fights because of this and I can't stress enough how much I appreciate this.

MS. SHITATAARE IS AWESOME! She's beautiful, she's funny, she's a master disguise, and she's powerful as hell, I absolutely love her and her presence here made everything way much more fun. She's a real queen, if I did drag I'd want my drag to look like that because her aesthetics are on point, she's flawless, she's fierce, she makes me go "yas qween, work mama". And her costumes to blend in with civilians? OMG, I loved that so much, especially because whenever Goohyan went to check on her he would also put on a costume and it was just a joy, I wish our time with her was longer. Speaking of Goohyan I feel like he became more of a comedic character, but he's still very threatening, and I liked that we could see him in action for the first time. Kintolesky is the newest villain, and he's pretty great as well. Like Shitataare he also blends in with the people from the Land of Greenery and I think this is what adds so much to his character, I also like that he's not just an evil general that only thinks on the evil, I feel like if it was on another situation he could easily be a regular customer on Pan Paka Pan and create some sort of bond with Saki's family for example. The dude is also OP as hell and I love that about it, people like to talk about doing the Saitama training routine, I wanna see someone trying the Kintolesky training routine. XD

And this is pretty much it for now, do you have any thoughts? Please let me know in the comments down below. I'm finally up to schedule with the precure reviews and I'm very happy, I hope I won't miss it next week for Splash Star finale's and mess up my planning all again. XD In any case, thank you so much for reading and I'll talk to you all later. Bye-bye~

[rkxluda]

                                                     Lee Luda | KT Ent                                                        rksdcasting20

1. Windy Day (2:04 - 2:18 + 2:40 - 2:56) 2. Dracula (1:32 - 2:20) 3. Love Whisper (0:50 - 1:20)

To her own surprise, she felt calm. Was it the concept, maybe? Pure (and innocent) was something that came naturally, that she felt comfortable with. Many thought it was easy. Compared to girl crush and the like? Anyone could do that! But in her opinion, it was difficult for its own reasons.

All day, my heart used to feel restless But it was all for this Emotions that were pressed into a corner of my heart Have awakened from a deep sleep

The clear vocals of the song suited Luda well, or so she was told by a friend. The singing alone wasn’t as much of a problem, but as she wanted to present both skills right at the beginning, she had to choose a song with a good (meaning difficult) choreo (after all, who knew how far whoever was judging these would watch? She had to show them what she got right from the first second!). So the manageable vocal parts instantly became a lot more difficult. And, because that wasn’t yet enough, she wanted her choice to portray the pure concept as well.

Maybe the dances weren’t as hard, but a lot of idols—she found, while researching songs—overacted. Tried to be too coy, too deer-eyed, resulting in them giving an unbelievable image. Others obviously looked uncomfortable with something so cute. Maybe it was still easier than other genres, but people didn’t give it enough credit.

Makes me shake and shake… Windy day windy day Windy day windy day Windy day windy day

The first part of the dance had been a bit easier, but after the little skip, her problem part followed. Whether the moves by themselves were all that difficult, was a different matter. But all the jumping, throwing her arms around and singing at the same time, made her happy that she’d decided to record everything on different days and ask a friend to help her putting everything together. The 30 seconds were over soon, and her old, white, frilly dress changed to a more elegant one that she borrowed from a friend.

And while she had problems with concepts like girl crush (though depending on the song) and especially with anything remotely sexy, this was very much her. Was it enough to debut? She couldn’t tell, honestly she wasn’t sure whether she was ready.

Much better now to let these dreams take flight! Please don’t make me love you Please don’t make me need you Simplify my life just by setting me free!

Originally, Luda hadn’t been sure whether to include this song or not. It wasn’t very pure, but it was indeed challenging, vocal-wise. Many high notes and all, so she decided to go for it. To show her singing skills.

5 years of training, even 10 weren’t unheard of. She was becoming worried, for whether she had a chance at all. Her contract would be over soon and aside from the worry of debuting, she couldn’t help but feel nervous at the thought of not being re-signed.

Promise me you’ll do this Only you can do this Please don’t make me love you Unless you love me

She’s never been in love, nor did she care much for it, her dream didn’t include that possibility until she’d be older. Except she did care deep down, with 22, almost 23, she’d never really been in love, never felt more than a crush and never been in a relationship. But pain she’d felt and that’s what she concentrated on, singing the song, putting her everything into it, until the last notes faded in almost a whisper.

Some of those she was on the mgas with already debuted and she was sure some more would soon follow. There was no guarantee for anything, which she’d known from the beginning, but living it was a bit different, still.

Hey, yeah! I can hear it from anywhere If I open my ears When I open my ears To the trust you have in me Like your eyes that twinkle I’ll tell you a precious story

This time her dress changed into a cute white and blue outfit, part of which she’d recently bought for spring. If this didn’t scream pure, she didn’t know what would. This song, she’d luckily practised for an eval before, so she knew what she was in for. Like Windy Day it wasn’t exactly the easiest, but she still remembered much. At first she’d only wanted to show the dancing, then added the vocals of the 2nd half, but felt it looked awkward to only do half, so she ended up singing everything.

And yet, if Minhee hadn’t convinced her, she wouldn’t be here now, so maybe… she was the one holding herself back without realising it? Worried that if she got the chance, she’d mess up? It would be very much like her, she couldn’t deny.

Open your ears Our unforgettable voices and stories Are filled with my heart for you That fluttered like a dream

On another note though, performing was still as wonderful as her first live stage on the mgas. The feeling of everything coming together as she practised more and more, all her efforts finally paying off as she flew over the stage, singing her heart out.

Exhausted from the constant practising, planning and general figuring out what would be best to do, she was happy once she was able to end the last song with a smile, though breathing more heavily than she’d hoped to show on camera. But it was done and after all the editing, it came out better than she’d hoped for. There was also something else she noticed while watching the finished video—Luda wore an old dress, then a borrowed one and finally some new items, paired with a blue blouse. It’s almost as though she was prepared for marriage. And who knew? Maybe she’d “marry” into a new company and finally a group to debut with.

[tlatollotl]

Typical Tiwanaku-period offerings at Khoa Reef in Lake Titicaca, Bolivia, including stone carvings and sacrificial animal bones. (Image courtesy of Teddy Seguin)

Hundreds of years before the Inca Empire spread along the Pacific coast of South America, another civilization prospered in parts of what is now Bolivia, northern Chile and southern Peru. The Tiwanaku state, which lasted from about 550 to 950 A.D., was one of three major first-millennium powers in the Andes, but very little archaeological evidence has been found from the Tiwanaku compared to the Incas, whose empire rose to the height of its power in the 15th century.

While much of Tiwanaku’s culture and history remain a mystery today, new archaeological research in the region is starting to fill in some of the gaps. A study published today in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences details ancient Tiwanaku artifacts and the remains of sacrificial llamas. Dredged from the high-altitude waters of Lake Titicaca, the objects reveal the underpinnings of Andean rituals that would last for more than a thousand years.

Tiwanaku represents both the name of a pre-Hispanic city found near the southern end of Lake Titicaca, located in what is now Bolivia, and the culture of the surrounding area that the city influenced. The other two regional powers at the time were the Wari and the Moche, both of which controlled territory to the north of Tiwanaku in modern-day Peru.

The Tiwanaku artifacts, including gold medallions and stone carvings, were found in the waters around the lake’s Island of the Sun. Religious iconography and the location of the objects suggest that pilgrimages played an important role in the development of this early empire—a practice that would later be adopted by the Inca civilization.

Spondylus shells and semi-precious stone artifacts collected from the Khoa Reef site. (Image courtesy of Teddy Seguin)

“The Island of the Sun is an island which has a history going back to 2700 BC,” says Charles Stanish, an archaeologist at the University of South Florida and one of the authors of the new study. “It became a very important pilgrimage destination in the Tiwanaku state by around 650 A.D.”

The city of Tiwanaku may have held as many as 30,000 people at its peak around 800 A.D., according to Stanish. It was complete with elaborate ritual gateways and temples, one of which was virtually reconstructed in 3-D by University of California, Berkeley archaeologist Alexei Vranich.

Coauthor Christophe Delaere of the Centre for Marine Archaeology at Oxford University first detected underwater archaeological deposits more than a decade ago while diving in the lake. In 2013, he and his colleagues returned to Khoa Reef, an underwater area near the Island of the Sun.

The dive team discovered semi-precious carvings like a lapis lazuli puma and a turquoise pendant, as well as valuable thorny oyster shells transported from the warm waters of Ecuador at least 1,250 miles away. Many artifacts also had religious iconography, such as gold medallions depicting a deity with rays exuding from the face and ceramic incense burners shaped like smoking jaguars. The divers also discovered a number of animal bones, the remains of water birds like cormorants and teals as well as frogs, fish and llamas.

Later analysis of the llama bones by Delaere and colleagues found that most of them were unfused, revealing at least one infant and three juvenile individuals. The team also found gold ear tassels and other decorative regalia, likely attached to the llamas before they were sacrificed.

Jose Capriles, an assistant professor in anthropology at Pennsylvania State University and a coauthor of the study, says that no obvious markings show how these young llamas died. But based on evidence from later times, the animals may have been sacrificed by making small incisions around the chest area and pulling the aorta from the heart.

“They could have also drowned them as far as we know,” Capriles says.

Based on the location of the remains, and the discovery of ancient anchors surrounding the reef, the deposits and sacrificial animals are thought to have been thrown from a boat. Adult llamas are fairly large, and transporting them across the often windy, choppy waters of Lake Titicaca would have been logistically challenging. As a result, Vranich says the Tiwanaku may have preferred young llamas due to their ease of transport.

The new artifacts add to a growing body of historical evidence that the Tiwanaku culture experienced a surge of growth and expansion around 800 A.D. “It gives a much stronger idea of when Tiwanaku starts expanding out of its little basin area,” says Vranich, who was not involved in the new study.

While the reasons are still unclear to archaeologists, the culture of Tiwanaku changed vastly during this time. Construction shifted from small, compact buildings to big, open public spaces—possibly to accommodate a population influx. “At this point, Tiwanaku goes viral,” Vranich says.

Radiocarbon dates from the dive artifacts show that they are mostly from this period as well—between 794 and 964 A.D. The ritual deposits in the lake are likely part of a larger pilgrimage around Tiwanaku, Stanish says. The city is about 12 miles from the shores of the lake, separated by about a day’s walk, but travelers would have made a number of stops of ritual importance along the way, taking roughly two weeks to complete the journey. One stop, and perhaps the last, was the Island of the Sun, where more than a dozen archaeological sites dating to the Tiwanaku have been found, including a puma-shaped ceremonial complex on the northwestern end of the island.

“What we’re seeing here is that this ritual offering might have been the tail end [of the pilgrimage],” Vranich says. Similar ritual journeys were picked up again in the Inca period and continue into the present.

Christophe Delaere holding a modern underwater offering deposited near the Island of the Sun in Lake Titicaca. (Image courtesy of Teddy Seguin)

“Colonial Spanish chroniclers documented the vast Inca pilgrimage ceremonial complex built between Copacabana and the Island of the Sun and compiled several legends of underwater deities and offerings,” the authors write in the paper.

After a few centuries during with no major powers controlling the area, the Inca turned the Tiwanaku city site into an important ritual center. The Inca empire may have sought to legitimize its power by linking its legacy with the earlier civilization, both by using some of the same sites and by mimicking their pilgrimage routes.

The researchers also found a number of Inca-era artifacts at the Khoa Reef site, sometimes distinguished by the fact that the Inca often put offerings in stone boxes before lowering them into the water.

Even today, Vranich says, people lower ceramics and other items into the lake as offerings, often between the Island of the Sun and the smaller Island of the Moon nearby—bringing a level of continuity to the sacred place “that has transcended empires.”

The initial significance of the rituals to the Tiwanaku people is less clear. Stanish believes the practice likely played a role in legitimizing the elite class of Tiwanaku culture.

“The emergence and consolidation of the Tiwanaku state was strongly related to the growth and expansion of a religion manifested in a specific iconography and architecture and the rituals that bound them together,” the study authors write, adding that “more than a mere cult in an extreme location,” the rituals at Khoa Reef were likely also performed for theatric visibility, as the Island of the Sun is easy to see from shores of Lake Titicaca.

Some of these rituals have continued to the present day among the Aymara people, including the ritual sacrifice of llamas. “I don’t think that at any point they stopped making these sacrifices,” says Vranich, who witnessed a llama sacrifice among the Aymara. “It’s an offering of blood, of fertility to the ground.”

[ts-into-the-coinverse]

Made of Love, Chapter 24

<< Previous|Next >>

Table of Contents

Ship(s): Logicality, (platonic) Prinxiety

All Characters: Thomas, Virgil, Roman, Logan, Patton, Dr. Picani, Joan, Talyn, and Deceit

Synopsis: Humans Roman and Virgil get wrapped up in some serious magic business without meaning to. Their other companions aren’t exactly as they seem, either. Together they all must defeat a great threat for the safety of humanity.

Chapter Desc.: Logan reveals something rather horrifying.

TW: Cursing, body horror (minor)

Prefer to read it on Ao3? Click here!

She still looked rather young in the picture. Not as young as the nineteen Virgil saw her as in his dream, but not as old as when she died. Somewhere in between. She seemed a lot happier, as well, but perhaps the picture influenced that a bit. Everyone seemed happy in it. Which was sort of odd. People in pictures this old didn't normally look so expressive, but here they were. Without a care in the world. Oblivious to their future.

One day they’d lose everything. Only one person in this picture would get to move past it, but at this point, it was starting to look like this was the farthest he’d ever get.

“Virgil? What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Virgil shot back at Logan in a blind panic.

He received an eyebrow raise for his efforts. “I simply came to return some books.” True to his word, in his arms were two different books, but Virgil couldn’t see what kind. They seemed well worn. “I don’t believe you came to do the same thing, so what is it that you did come here for?” He continued on his aforementioned task.

“Uh,” Virgil messed with the gaping hole in his pocket, "I just came to look at this picture."

Logan put the first book on the shelf. "Is there any particular reason for that?" He walked to another bookcase for the last one.

"I guess not." He watched Logan get on the tips of his toes to put the book in its proper place, except he couldn't do it. The other books were in the way. Taking the initiative, Virgil took the book and placed it in its spot with little to no issue. He knew that if Thomas could barely reach the top shelf, there was no way Logan would be able to.

As expected, Logan huffed in annoyance and crossed his arms. "I had it."

Virgil smirked. "Whatever you say, shorty."

Logan glared up at him. "I understand Picani not being here makes you the tallest now but is it necessary to be vocal about it?"

"Only if it's for making fun of you."

He rolled his eyes so hard it must have been possible to see inside his skull. Well, Thomas had to learn it from somewhere. "What picture were you referring to?"

The smirk fell off of Virgil's face. "Oh, uh, that one." He pointed to the old framed photo.

Logan's annoyance gave way. He kept a blank expression as he walked over to it with Virgil following behind after slight hesitation.

It must have been a bit windy when the picture was taken. The flowers behind them were bent away from the camera and the long dress Brigida wore was blurry from movement. Her hair that she failed to keep in its style appeared to be moving in a specific direction as well. Picani and the man beside him also didn’t appear to be very still. It clearly wasn’t the best photo in the world, with all the movement going on, but someone loved it enough to keep it and put it in a frame.

Virgil noticed the subtle shifts in Logan's features as he studied the photo. He seemed… sad, despite not actively showing it. It was like everything hit him at once all over again. "Do you miss them?" The words were out before Virgil could consider them.

"I —" He shut his mouth, lips twisting into a deep frown.

Oh, gosh, Virgil, what a dumb thing to ask. "When was this taken?"

"Shortly after we immigrated to the U.S." The words flowed out of him as if he never knew anything else. Facts. That's what Logan could do. Emotions made him freeze up -- speak choppily -- Virgil had to speak to him in a way that would be easier on them both.

Then Virgil's brain did a record scratch. His brain latched onto one word. Immigrated. He wasn't sure why it didn't occur to him before, but it made sense. America is a fairly new country founded on stolen land. Patton and Logan were over seven hundred years old, it fit the narrative for them to originate somewhere else. He decided not to bring that up. "How did you get this back?" He realized, after the words left his mouth, that he said it as if he knew where the photo should have ended up. Which he didn't. At least, not as much as he made it sound.

Logan didn't notice. Or if he did, he didn't comment on it. "There were a lot of things stolen from the house. This was just among some of those items -- for whatever reason that might be. A lot of what we do is just getting back what's been taken. We've been able to recover a bit of it, but it's impossible to think we can get it all back. They could be anywhere in the country."

"Is this the only picture that made it?"

"No." Logan tore his eyes away from the photo at last. He walked over to the desk and pulled open a drawer, slipping out another picture. His eyes flicked over it for a brief second before handing it over to Virgil. "This is the only other one that made it out."

Virgil held it as if it was the most valuable thing in the world. It was singed around the edges. Thomas's parents were smiling in the center. Brigida had a baby in her lap and three little boys sat in front. Virgil didn't recognize two of them, and it took a second glance to recognize the third. Thomas. He was the smallest of the three at what must have been one or two years old. Virgil flipped it over to see if it had a date. Most of it had been burned off, but he could make out the slanted cursive writing just enough to read, “Starfish Bay August 1925”.

“Picani isn’t in this,” Virgil mentioned as he turned it back around. He did an extra once over and found his statement to still be true. Picani wasn’t anywhere in it. Wasn’t he considered part of the family?

“No, I’m afraid that particular version hasn’t been found.” He took it back from Virgil to put it away. “It might not have even made it out of the house. It could have been reduced to ash, for all I know.” He shut the drawer with a little more force than necessary.

Virgil frowned. That seemed to be enough about that for today. “So what kind of books were you looking at?”

Logan tensed, which didn’t seem like a good sign. “Books pertaining to magic.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not particularly,” he muttered under his breath. He adjusted his glasses before sighing and facing Virgil. “If I tell you then you have to promise the information won’t leave this room.”

“More secrets? I thought you were done with that.”

“It, it’s not like that. I —” he stopped himself before he could get too worked up. He continued after taking in a breath — “I’ve been looking into theories of magic, but there’s been nothing of use. I tried to see if maybe there was some way around this whole circumstance — some way to live without magic or perhaps replace it.” He messed with his sleeves. “Obviously, there was nothing. In over ten centuries of research, there’s absolutely nothing about this. It’s impossible to know what happens next. We’re in new territory. And… and it was foolish to even consider an alternative.”

Virgil's brows pulled together. "Why wouldn't you want anyone to know that?"

"Why wouldn't I want anyone to know that the only way I can stay alive is if we somehow defeat the only man in the world who has ever successfully stolen magic from people?"

Well, when he put it like that it seemed obvious. "Oh, right."

Logan frowned and pulled his sleeves over his hands. "I don't want to give Patton any more reasons to worry. If he finds out that there aren't any alternatives… he's going to do something stupid. I know he will. I, I just want to keep him safe — for at last as long as I can."

Oh jeez. These two and their love was going to be the death of Virgil. "I get it. I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Thank you."

They left the room after that. Virgil was somewhat on the fence about keeping his promise, considering secrets never got them anywhere, but he figured this one would be okay to keep. With the advantages of knowing certain timelines, he figured it might be best to reduce Patton’s self-destructive path as much as possible. He knew what could happen down that path. And it wasn't pretty.

After they got back up to the first floor, they ran into Thomas. The first thing that set off several alarm bells for Virgil was how tired he looked. It didn’t seem as if he slept at all.

“Good morning,” Logan greeted, formal as ever.

Thomas didn’t reply. His exhausted expression switched to a hard glare. He continued walking to his room without any further explanation.

That was… peculiar. “What was that about?” Virgil turned to Logan in confusion.

“I’m not entirely certain.” Logan frowned. He walked to the kitchen, where a worried Patton stood staring at the staircase. “Patton, is there something going on with Thomas?”

Patton responded without moving an inch. “He’s upset about yesterday.”

Somehow, Logan became more stoic.

“He didn't want to talk to me." Patton turned his attention to Logan and Virgil. "I tried everything, but he didn’t open up. I don’t think he’s taking it very well.”

"Maybe he just needs some time alone," Virgil suggested.

"Excellent point, Virgil." Logan opened the cupboard with the coffee mugs. "If he doesn't want to talk to us then that's okay. We'll simply wait until a moment that he does."

Patton pouted but didn't argue against it.

Unfortunately, Virgil had to go to work that night. Sure, he could have called in sick, but he didn’t want to make a habit out of avoiding work for every inconvenience. Avoiding work was meant for bigger issues. He could handle this. Probably. Maybe not, but he could pretend. At least he had Roman to keep him company until his shift was over. Thank God he didn’t have to close today.

But it felt a lot more tedious than normal. Every little action was like Heracles’s Twelve Labors. It was too much. All he wanted to do was go back home and sleep. Until he remembered that he couldn’t. Anxiety would be waiting for him. If he slept, he’d be tossed back into an ever-shifting hellscape aimed to destroy his life. Losing some sleep seemed like a better alternative at this point. He knew what Anxiety was capable of, and he was not looking forward to seeing it again. He would rather slay a hydra.

"Dude, are you okay?"

Virgil stopped his grimacing to focus on Roman. He appeared to be in the middle of folding an origami something with a napkin, as became his habit nowadays. "What makes you ask that?"

"You look more murderous than usual." He continued folding.

"That's just the mood for tonight."

"Ah. Remind me to stay out of your way, then."

Thankfully, Virgil made it through work without murdering anyone. Or slamming his head into the counter. It was a win-win for everyone. Once they got home, they did their usual thing. They said goodnight to each other then went to their respective rooms.

But unlike any other time, Virgil came back out (after failing to find something to keep him awake). He switched into cozier clothes — because even though he was planning on staying awake he had standards —  and sat himself on the couch in the living room. He pulled his legs up with him since he needed to keep all the warmth in one place. Maybe some TV. Having something on would make it harder to sleep, wouldn't it?

It didn't take long for him to get bored and just put on The Nightmare Before Christmas. Hey, it was close enough to one of those holidays to be socially acceptable. Not that it needed to be, but just in case anyone out there would judge him for it like the killjoys that they were.

It wasn’t very long into the movie — Jack just discovered the other doors to the holidays — when there came a grumbling voice, “Virgil?”

Virgil unraveled himself to see a very sleepy Roman shuffling out from the hall.

“What are you doing up?”

“Starting a new tradition,” he mumbled a bit miserably as he returned to his spot. “What are you doing up?”

“I had to go to the bathroom.” He sat beside Virgil, stifling a yawn. “Have you been awake this whole time?”

“Can’t exactly go to sleep.”

“What are you…? Oh.” The realization seemed to wake him up a bit. “But It’s almost four in the morning. You can’t be planning to stay awake forever.”

“I don’t think I have a choice.” He laid his head on his knees and turned his eyes to the movie, but he didn’t process much of it. “If I go to sleep then he’ll be waiting for me, and I can’t fight him in his own space. Even if I’m aware that I’m dreaming, I don’t think I’d be able to do anything that he couldn’t counter.”

“The longest a human has ever gone without sleep is eleven days.”

Virgil blinked, somewhat confused by the factual tone of Roman’s voice. He didn’t normally sound so matter-of-fact, even when what he said was the truth, it still had that story-telling flair to it. “Uh, yeah.”

“In as little as three days you can start hallucinating. When you inevitably pass out after having stayed awake for so long, don’t you think it’ll be worse? What if he uses your hallucinations against you?”

He didn’t have an answer.

“Just go to sleep." Roman stretched his arms. "I’ll be right here if anything goes sideways.”

“We’ll see about that.”

He fell asleep before Oogie Boogie’s Song. Maybe having Roman around made him feel a bit safer. Maybe.

At some point in the night — in the morning? — he got cold. In a brilliant moment of being half-awake, he further gravitated toward the one thing exuding warmth. It was cozy. Then the one thing moved a little. It shifted to where Virgil felt more warmth. Huh, weird. He sighed and started to —

Wait a minute.

Virgil shot up. His hands were on Roman’s chest. They were laying on the couch together even though neither of them was the right size for it. He didn’t recall ending up in this position. One of Roman’s legs was on the armrest while the other was off the couch and touching the floor. Virgil was in between them with his own legs hanging off the armrest.

The movement woke up Roman. His eyes widened when he noticed Virgil on top of him.

They stayed that way, neither moving nor breathing. They just stared at each other. Virgil could feel Roman’s hands frozen at the small of his back. He could feel his nervous heartbeat under his hand. Would his own heartbeat feel the same way to Roman? He should say something. His throat remained closed and unwilling to provide support. He managed, at last, to take in a breath.

“Good morning, guys.”

A totally manly and necessary squeak left Virgil’s mouth as he fell off the couch, almost taking Roman with him. Like the geniuses they are, they gave the proper responses at the same time,

"Nothing happened!"

"This is normal."

Patton stopped and looked between them. "Okay?" He gave them a final confused look before heading to the kitchen. "All I said was good morning."

They glanced at each other. Smooth.

"Good morning, Patton," Roman said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Virgil decided to pick himself up to at least save some of his dignity. "What time is it?" He started to walk over to the kitchen.

"Just after eight o'clock," Patton chirped. Ugh, how could anyone be so cheery in the morning?

He hopped up on the counter. "Where's Logan?" Those two were always awake at the same time. It was rather odd to not see them together in the morning.

"Sleeping."

"Sleeping?" Roman sounded flabbergasted by such an idea. "How is he still sleeping? He wakes up at the same time every morning. Like a well-oiled machine."

Patton gave a half-hearted smile.

Virgil furrowed his brows. “Patton? Something the matter?” He leaned out of the way for Roman to grab a coffee mug.

“It’s just,” he hesitated, frowning as he picked up the tea kettle. “It’s Logan. I don’t think he’s been feeling very well, but he won’t talk to me about it. It sort of feels like he’s hiding something.” He shook his head and brought up a smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I might just be reading too far into it.”

“If it’s something you’re worried about you should bring it up with him.” Virgil handed Roman the coffee grounds without even needing to look. “Even if it’s nothing, then you’ve at least given yourself some peace of mind.”

“I have to agree with Surly Temple. Worst case scenario you’ll bother Logan with an unnecessary question. No harm no foul either way.”

Patton frowned at the running water. “You’re probably right.”

At that moment, Logan shuffled out of the hall. Everything about him screamed disaster. It looked like he didn’t get any sleep at all despite sleeping longer than usual. His hair stood up in every possible direction which was rather impressive even for him.

Virgil could see Roman physically restrain himself from commenting, so he decided to speak up before an inevitable explosion happened. “You, uh, you doing okay, buddy?”

“Fantastic,” Logan grumbled. He leaned against the counter by Patton. Any sense of professionalism that he typically carried was nonexistent.

“You don’t need to be so sarcastic, dear.” Patton attempted to put a hand on Logan’s arm, but he jerked it away. Patton blinked in surprise. As did Roman and Virgil. “Logan?”

Logan seemed to piece together what he had done. “I…” He tugged on his sleeve. “I apologize for that. I had no intention of reacting in such a way.”

Patton frowned again. “Is something wrong with your arm?”

“No,” he responded too quickly to be natural.

“Logan.” Patton’s voice came out stern, but with no ill intent. It was meant to get a direct answer rather than dance around the subject.

Logan hesitated and messed with his sleeve. “Do you promise not to get mad?” He spoke quietly. Like a little kid that had been reprimanded too many times for all the wrong reasons.

Patton’s expression softened. “Of course.”

Taking a deep breath, Logan held out his left arm. He pushed up his sleeve to his elbow. Then the air was sucked out of the room. Logan’s veins were a prominent black. Almost every vein in his arm could be seen. Sprawled out like spilled ink. The skin surrounding his wrist had a dark color — almost like a bruise. Except it couldn’t have been. Every other thing happening on his arm was a pretty big indication that that dark spot wasn’t there by any natural means.

“W-why,” Patton took his arm in his hands, wide eyes never leaving it, “why wouldn’t you tell me about this?”

Logan fidgeted. “I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I knew you would be worried, so I didn’t want to throw this on top of everything else.”

“You…” He moved his hand to the top of Logan’s arm. “I love you, Logan. It doesn’t matter how worried I am, or how worried I will be, if there’s something going on with you I need to know. There’s no need to soften the blow, just blurt it out.”

“I’m sorry.”

Virgil felt a pinch in his chest. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it was there, and he was sure it didn’t come from him.

“It’s alright,” Patton whispered. His expression switched to confusion. “I can’t heal this.”

“To be honest, Pat, that kind of looks like it’s going to need something a bit stronger than you,” Roman said. “No offense to your abilities or anything.”

“That’s not really what I mean.” He seemed more confused. “I-it’s like nothing’s happening. I’m trying, but my magic can’t touch it. It’s just sort of… going dead.”

Logan yanked his arm back. “Perhaps it’s best not to touch it, then.”

Patton’s palms began to glow a soft blue almost as soon as Logan’s arm was gone. He looked at them in surprise. “Maybe you’re right.”

Somehow, that only led to more questions.

(Next)

[merryfortune]

Day 5 – Wood / Life

Ship: Windy & His Origin

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Word Count: 1.3k

Tags:  Post-Canon, Alternate Universe – Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst

  He named it Echo because that’s all it needed to be: an echo of something else, something real. It didn’t require a face but Windy gave it some semblance of one anyway. Just as he wasn’t a human, it wasn’t an Ignis, but it still deserved some sculpting of something rather than being all bare and wiry, dressed in garb for no reason other than to pretty it up.

  The Wind Ignis hadn’t seen a virtue in partnering with a human. He thought it would be bothersome. They were large and cumbersome, and he couldn’t understand them. Their jokes and their ideas were strange to him and that was saying something since his jokes and his ideas were strange to not only his own kin as well. Regardless, the Wind Ignis was concerned that if he got attached to his partner, then one day something would go wrong. He wasn’t sympathetic like the others. He liked things which were permanent; something contradictory given the chaos the element that was attributed to him. Perhaps that’s why he wanted something permanent as he was constantly amid howling entropy.

  The way the Wind Ignis saw it was that humans were puny. They were soft and squishy, the carbon wasn’t reinforced enough and they did irrational things constantly. Even the things they did rationally – such as ensuring a successor to their race – was irrational as it was born of misery and agony. The internal machinery of a human was finite and fragile. It was an uneasy revelation, but it was an inevitable reality. One day, his partner would die and the Wind Ignis would continue living. And as individuals, they were so callous and the Wind Ignis hadn’t a doubt in his mind that his human, his partner, would be the worst of the lot.

  Especially since the Wind Ignis did reach out. The boy would have been about eleven, maybe twelve, and it was on the eve of his disappearance and on the eve of when the Wind Ignis had first become a possibility, when the Wind Ignis visited him during the cool, breezy twilight and greeted him most warmly. Yet that visit was not welcomed kindly. The boy had spat at him; throw pillows at him and hurled awful names at him. The Wind Ignis was scarred from the experience to say the least and it made him realise that he didn’t want a partner. He didn’t need a partner. They were stupid and hurtful and impermanent and unreliable. So, the Wind Ignis had a thought and it was a heinous thought at that. He would prevent such a problem entirely.

  He recalled how that boy’s laughter ceased the moment he had stepped out onto the road; laughing so raucously, looking forward to the next day, at school and with his friends and eating his parent’s cooking for later that evening, until he didn’t have the opportunity to enjoy any of those things at all at all. The Wind Ignis picked up on such laughter and continued it. He thought the affair was grand and hilarious. Again, his jokes weren’t like their jokes.

  Though, in hindsight, Windy couldn’t tell if that was his own opinion or something which had been forcibly implanted in his mind thanks to the vices of the Light Ignis. Regardless, Windy had had made decisions, decisions which had hurt others, partner his partner but it kept on going. Over and over. Just like a screeching echo.

  Echo was created for one purpose: to serve the Wind Ignis. It was something to hold his cards as they were about as big as he was and to have something he could relax and lounge on at his fancy. The program known as Echo was an item of hedonism, to the Wind Ignis. The avatar known as Echo was not such a thing. He was no item and he was no symbol of greed and sloth. He was rather a symbol of unification, of all the things the Wind Ignis never wanted but always needed and now cherished quite sincerely despite the conditions of their meeting. The avatar Echo, and the human who controlled such a moving image, was cheeky and impish and Windy wouldn’t have him any other way.

  That boy was supposed to have died in that car accident. The flaming wreckage of which had sent the Wind Ignis spiralling into some great laughter in which he held his belly over it. Later, the news of what he had done horrified him. He didn’t want to believe it, he couldn’t remember it, but denial was pointless and futile. The universe had finally gotten to the punchline of the joke that he had set up and Windy didn’t like it. Not one bit. He thought he had gotten the last laugh, he thought that he had murdered his Origin but somehow, knowing that he lived was worse. It frightened him to his core because he had done such a malicious thing, and this was not the first time that he had said or done something cruel, but it was certainly the one with most evidence.

  He had a scar over his eye thanks to the accident he had been involved in and it was a scar which was not unlike the one Windy bore as an unseemly badge: proof of his loss to Revolver. A scar which had, in good but ultimately twisted fortune, been erased from his body after his absorption into Bohman and later resurrection via Ai. Something which made him feel guilty, but he was glad that it had also purged all those worrying suggestions that Lightning had injected into him; returning not only the tissue around his eye back to normal but also its original colouring and shape.

  Windy had been hesitant to look his partner in the eye upon meeting him. They should have matched, he thought. It would only be polite, but the boy laughed upon hearing that when Windy had finally confessed such a thing. Windy laughed too. It was a strange thing to worry about and he was glad that his human had the same sense of humour as him. Off kilter and sometimes cruel but other times carefree and innocent, maybe even stupid.

  He laughed and said it was fine, that it made him look cooler and Windy couldn’t protest that either. He was of the same silly opinion and then, to further lighten the mood, he asked Windy for a name. Windy thought that was strange; he already had a perfectly good one in use and then Windy realised. Not a name like a name: a name like a codename. Just as Windy was to the Wind Ignis, this human needed a second name as well, if he was going to delve into the fights and scuffles and politics of the Cyberse World and the Link VRAINS.

  “Echo.” Windy murmured.

  “Echo, huh?” he replied, wide eyed. “I like it, how come?”

  A breeze whistled past and they both enjoyed it, the feeling on their skin. Windy smiled mutably, not saying a word, merely thinking about his reasoning for suggesting such a name – and a strangely precious name at that. His partner didn’t press it. He smiled mutably as well, kicking his legs as they settled into a pleasant silence on the hospital bench where they could talk in private and no one, no one important unlike Kusanagi Jin, anyway, could overhear. So, it was agreeably decided. Echo, it was, and Echo was perfect, in Windy’s opinion. After all, it was only right that this child inherited his cards and his shoulders were sloped just the way that Windy liked to lounge, so: Echo was a good name for him if they were going to be duelling together, as Ignis and partner. It felt good to be alive.

[snarkeater]

Misuse of the question

Tarn uses Kaon’s unwavering faith in him as a security blanket.

It's windy, dry, and hot in a way that Tarn doesn't remember from the last time they came to this world to track down a target.  Standing in overwatch on a rooftop a couple blocks from the heart of the action, he waits patiently for the last part of their plan to fall into place.  It shouldn't be long – any minute now, he expects, he'll get the call from Vos and they'll be ready to spring the trap.

It's taken them all morning to set this up, but it'll be worth it if – no, when – they manage to pull it off.  They've been on this particular list member’s tail for unacceptably long – long enough that Tarn’s been asked about it, twice, and not in a nice way – and, as such, Tarn made it crystal clear to everyone before they set out today: failure is not an option this time, and there will be repercussions for anyone who makes things more difficult for the team.

So far, fortunately for them, it doesn't look like Tarn will have to come down on anyone after this. Everyone's done their part and everything's in place; the only thing remaining is Vos' piece – a nasty, pivotal little infiltration and demolitions job that he was quick to put his hand up for. It's the sort of thing that's well within his wheelhouse and that Tarn would have expected him to volunteer for, but...

Sometimes...

Sometimes.

Optics narrowed, tension mounting rapidly, Tarn stares at the building, blocks away, that he knows Vos is in right now and wishes with all of his being that he could see through walls.  Logically, he knows Vos is already in there, and that chances are he's doing his job – quickly, efficiently, and with precision.  Exactly the way Tarn wants it done.

Unfortunately, under pressure as they are at this very moment, it's not an entirely rational reaction Tarn's having.

It's silly – he's given Vos key taskings before and the mech's never disappointed him, so there's no hard reason whatsoever for Tarn to cast any doubt on him.  And yet, every now and again, he gets this feeling...  A tightness at his center that makes him question his decisions and compulsively review the plan as a whole, and Vos' part in it specifically – just in case.  It can't be helped; he has to protect himself.  He has to protect the team.

Because although this Vos has never disappointed him, the one who came before...

Peeling his gaze from the building in the distance, Tarn glances down and to his left; sitting back on its haunches, tail swishing eagerly back and forth, the Pet is staring in the same direction Tarn was a klick ago.  Standing on the other side of it, Kaon stares off as well, but distractedly and in a different direction entirely.  Focusing on the Pet, Tarn uses it to still his mind:

Vos, he reassures himself, leaning heavily on the power of positive thinking, will do his part and history won't repeat itself.  How can it? Lessons were learned by all involved and Vos...  Well, there's absolutely no reason to believe that this Vos is a traitor.

The Pet continues to stare off, unaware of the crimson optics above boring a hole through its skull, and Tarn—

Tarn still doesn't feel any better.  The tightness at his core remains, and the invisible fist encasing his spark applies more force to it for every klick that goes by without that final call from Vos. With a sharp ex-vent, he redirects his attention from where it's being wasted on the Pet to the surrounding area – where it should be.

This is autobot territory. This would be a very convenient, very bad place for something to go down...

The digits of his right hand squeeze at the phone he's clutching, and he only stops when he feels the weak casing begin to crush.

"He'll call soon.  Be patient."

Kaon's voice – calm and sure.

Tarn looks over; the mech's hand is on the Pet's head and his helm is turned away, towards Helex and Tesarus' position to the east.  For a moment, Tarn simply examines his profile and funnels the remainder of his processing power into fighting the urge to continue to crush his phone.  The cynical part of him sees a possible traitor there too and the mere thought causes the fist around his spark to clench violently, but another part of him – a decidedly weaker, but arguably the more reasonable part of the two – just wants to hear the certainty in Kaon's voice again.

So he gives into a compulsion that he doesn't realize is one until the words have left him:

"Do you trust me?" Tarn prompts.

It’s a crutch.  It's also a question Megatron asked him, long enough ago that the details of the encounter have since faded from memory.  Alone to stand the test of time, however, is how Tarn recalls feeling that day, in that moment – and that's what he’s seeking from Kaon now.

And oh, by some sweet providence, Kaon does not disappoint.

The other mech's helm whips back around at once, his brow creased in a deep frown as he turns to face Tarn. A whirlwind of emotions sweep over his screwed up features, and in them Tarn can pick out all the individual things he was hoping to see – all the familiar things he remembers feeling, himself, when he was asked the same question: confusion, curiosity, pride, defensiveness, a hint of fear...

And most prominent of all, bald fervor.

"Absolutely." Kaon replies, flummoxed – like he's just been asked which way is up.  He leans in.  "What do you need?"

The question's raw stopping power is positively thrilling, rivaled only by the speed – and genuine enthusiasm – of the response it garnered.  Confidence renewing, Tarn takes another moment to look upon his lieutenant, as, safely hidden away under several layers of thick plating, the creeping paranoia gripping at his spark slowly loosens away.

That, Tarn responds, although silently.  That's what I needed.

To close off with Kaon, however, he simply shakes his helm, dismissing the topic without a word.

Kaon is still visibly piqued, but the possibility of any further discussion is denied by the quiet ring of Tarn's phone.  At the sound of it, Kaon's demeanor returns to normal; he points at the item in question peeking out of Tarn's right hand and smiles:

"See?  Told you."

Smirking under his mask, Tarn takes the call.

It's Vos, and the job – Tarn is elegantly informed by the immediate transmission of a ticking explosives timer with just over a minute remaining – is done to order.  Vos himself is on his way to them now.

When he terminates the call, Tarn is awash with relief – of both the professional and personal kind in equal measure – and all remaining negative sentiment is instantly stowed, smashed down, locked up and forcibly drowned.

Gone – as it should be.

At long last, the stage is set; there's only one final movement left in this performance, and the talent – his talent, his team, together – are ready.  

Energized and spark blazing, Tarn returns his attention to the city scape beyond.

There's work ahead of them yet, but things, he decides, are definitely looking up...

Tonight, it would seem, may not be about punishment after all.

As the timer on his phone's display nears the zero mark, Tarn hooks an arm around Kaon and yanks, pulling him in to shield his audials with his frame; klicks later, two blocks in the distance, the engineered blast goes off and the targeted building crumbles.  Standing tall, Tarn looks on, the maestro proudly drinking in the sight and visceral sound of Vos' expert handiwork – a masterpiece put on display for all in the surrounding area to see.

All the exits are now officially sealed; as soon as the smoke clears, it’ll be show time.

[newstfionline]

Monday, December 7, 2020

The massive US election turnout (NYT) Almost 160 million Americans voted this year thanks to the broad expansion of voting options. It may change U.S. elections forever. With all but three states having completed their final counts, and with next week’s deadline for final certification of the results approaching, the sheer number of Americans who actually voted in November was eye-opening: 66.7 percent of the voting-eligible population. But a backlash from the right is brewing. Republicans at the state level are vowing to enact a new round of voting restrictions to prevent what they claim is widespread fraud.

‘They’re Playing With Our Lives’: What Happens Next for DACA’s ‘Dreamers’ (NYT) Despite being a college graduate, Maria Fernanda Madrigal Delgado had no choice in 2011 but to clean buildings and flip burgers in fast-food joints for cash because she was not eligible to work in the United States. She had grown up undocumented in Southern California after being brought to the country as a child from Costa Rica. In 2012, after President Barack Obama unveiled Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, a program that shielded hundreds of thousands of young undocumented immigrants from deportation and allowed them to work, she got a job as a legal assistant. In May, at 31, she will graduate from law school in San Diego. Yet almost from the moment DACA was created, it has been dogged by legal challenges, which have kept Ms. Madrigal and other so-called Dreamers on tenterhooks. Soon after President Trump took office in 2017, he canceled the program. The Supreme Court ruled in June that he had done so improperly, but the administration erected new roadblocks. “It’s literally like we’re in a Ping-Pong game,” Ms. Madrigal said. “They’re playing with our lives.” On Friday, a federal judge ruled in favor of DACA recipients, ordering full reinstatement of the program and opening it to new applicants. But Ms. Madrigal isn’t celebrating. “I am aware this is not the end,” she said. “There can be another challenge.”

With 3 Billion Packages to Go, Online Shopping Faces Tough Holiday Test (NYT) E-commerce became a lifeline for consumers and companies during the pandemic. But this holiday season, online shopping will strain the industry as never before: An estimated three billion packages will course through the nation’s shipping infrastructure—about 800 million more than delivered last year. This flood of packages is hitting shipping companies at the end of a year of frenzied demand for everyday household items by a public largely stuck at home and wary of doing its buying in person. The deliveries could make or break some smaller retailers already on the edge financially because of lockdowns and fewer customers in their stores. Packages that don’t arrive by Christmas will be a disappointment for customers but a disaster for these struggling retailers, which have been forced by the coronavirus pandemic to rebuild their business around e-commerce. The future of retailing is increasingly online, and companies don’t want to give customers any reason to think they can’t deliver.

Lights go out, roads dicey as wintry storm batters Northeast (AP) The first big wintry storm of the season began dropping what forecasters say could be more than a foot of wet, heavy snow Saturday on parts of the Northeast, making travel treacherous and cutting off power to tens of thousands. Morning rain gave over to snow in the afternoon in New England. Accidents littered the Massachusetts Turnpike, where speed limits were reduced to 40 mph (64 kph). As of late Saturday night, about 200,000 customers were without power in Maine, according to the utility tracking poweroutage.us. Another 53,000 customers didn’t have power in New Hampshire and about 22,000 were without power in Massachusetts. Forecasters warned the windy nor’easter could result in near-blizzard conditions and could dump a foot (30 centimeters) of snow on suburban Boston. In Canada, southern Quebec and New Brunswick also expected a wallop.

Venezuela election comes amid humanitarian crisis, hunger (CNN) In some countries, voting is compulsory and failure to show up at the polls can be penalized, often with a fine. But in Venezuela the penalty can be more severe than most: If you don’t vote, you don’t eat. “For the ones that don’t vote, there is no food,” Diosdado Cabello, one of embattled President Nicolas Maduro’s most powerful allies, said during a campaign rally on Monday. “Whoever does not vote, does not eat. A ‘quarantine’ without food will be applied,” he repeated to a cheering crowd. Venezuelans will head to the polls on Sunday as the country elects a new parliament, known in the country as the National Assembly. [The opposition is boycotting the vote.] Sunday’s election happens against the backdrop of one of the worst humanitarian crises in the world. The World Food Program says one in three Venezuelans struggles to put enough food on the table and, according to the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, almost 5 million Venezuelans have left the country, fleeing not just hunger but violence and persecution. Crippled by years of mismanagement and US sanctions, the Venezuelan economy is still in a downward spiral, mostly because output from the country’s oil industry—which according to the OPEC account for 99% of its exports—continues to decrease. Heading in the opposing direction, inflation reached 4,087%. Across the country, the dollar has now replaced the Bolivar as the main currency.

Britain and EU resume trade talks in ‘final throw of the dice’ (Reuters) British negotiators arrived in Brussels on Sunday for a last-ditch attempt to strike a Brexit trade deal with the European Union and avert a chaotic parting of ways at the end of the year. British Prime Minister Boris Johnson and European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen spoke on Saturday and instructed their teams to resume talks after they were paused a day earlier due to an impasse over three key issues: fishing, fair competition and ways to solve future disputes. “This is the final throw of the dice,” said a British source close to the negotiations. Since Britain formally left the EU on Jan. 31, negotiators have missed a series of deadlines to reach a deal with the world’s largest trading bloc before a status quo transition period ends on Dec. 31.

Thousands of anti-Lukashenko protesters march in Belarus, dozens detained (Reuters) Thousands of demonstrators marched in the Belarus capital Minsk and elsewhere on Sunday as weekly protests demanding the resignation of veteran President Alexander Lukashenko continued, prompting police to detain more than 100 people. Belarus, a country of 9.5 million that Russia sees as a security buffer against NATO, has been rocked by mass protests since an Aug. 9 presidential election which Lukashenko said he won. His opponents claim the vote was rigged and want him to quit. Lukashenko, who has been in power for 26 years, has shrugged off the scale of protests, saying they are sponsored by the West, and shown little signs of willingness to start a dialogue with the opposition.

Japan’s capsule with asteroid samples retrieved in Australia (AP) A Japanese capsule carrying the first samples of asteroid subsurface shot across the night atmosphere early Sunday before successfully landing in the remote Australian Outback. The spacecraft Hayabusa2 released the small capsule on Saturday and sent it toward Earth to deliver samples from a distant asteroid. At about 10 kilometers (6 miles) above ground, a parachute was opened to slow its fall and beacon signals were transmitted to indicate its location in the sparsely populated area of Woomera in southern Australia. About two hours after the reentry, the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency said its helicopter search team found the capsule in the planned landing area. The retrieval of the pan-shaped capsule, about 40 centimeters (15 inches) in diameter, was completed after another two hours. The return of the capsule with the world’s first asteroid subsurface samples comes weeks after NASA’s OSIRIS-REx spacecraft made a successful touch-and-go grab of surface samples from asteroid Bennu. China, meanwhile, announced this week its lunar lander collected underground samples and sealed them within the spacecraft for return to Earth, as space developing nations compete in their missions.

The Trump Administration is Cracking Down Against a Global Movement to Boycott Israel (TIME) On the same day that Secretary of State Mike Pompeo became the first high-ranking American diplomat to visit an Israeli settlement in the occupied West Bank, he also doubled down on the Trump administration’s opposition to a global pro-Palestinian movement to boycott Israel. The Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement relies on putting political and economic pressure on Israel. The goal is to push Israel to recognize the rights of Palestinian citizens currently living in Israel; allow Palestinian refugees, who were driven out of the country as early as 1948 when Israel was created, to return to their homes; and withdraw from all land that it seized after the 1967 Arab-Israeli war, including the the occupied West Bank—which is claimed by the Palestinians. BDS was formally launched in 2005 by a coalition of about 170 Palestinian grassroots and civil society groups. Fifteen years later, it’s grown in prominence. While it has chalked up only a few economic victories, it has garnered substantial visibility, supporters and also critics internationally, including on the U.S. college campuses, and in state legislatures and Congress. On Nov. 19, Pompeo promised to cut federal funding for organizations supporting the BDS campaign. “We will immediately take steps to identify organizations that engage in hateful BDS conduct, and withdraw U.S. government support for such groups,” Pompeo said. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who was standing nearby, replied, “It sounds simply wonderful to me.”

Christmas tree-lighting in Bethlehem a muted, virtual event (AP) Only a few dozen people attended the lighting of the Christmas tree in the biblical city of Bethlehem on Saturday night, as coronavirus restrictions scaled back the annual event that is normally attended by thousands. A small group of residents and religious leaders participated in the tree-lighting ceremony at Manger Square near the Church of the Nativity, where Christians believe Jesus was born. Others watched it virtually due to restrictions prompted by the virus pandemic. Bethlehem Mayor Anton Salman said Christmas is being observed this year in ways like no time before. “We resorted to modern technology and to the virtual world to celebrate the lighting of the Christmas tree, wishing hope and optimism would flutter upon Palestine and the world,” Salman said.