#if we keep wasting energy fighting each other then we ignore the bigger enemy who wants anyone who’s not a rich white cishet male dead

[frommybedroom]

(this post is explicitly about those who didn’t vote for kamala/voted third party. if you voted for trump, fuck off. i have no grace for you.)

i know right now it feels easy to point fingers and place the blame on people for not voting for kamala/voting third party. it’s natural to want to look for a scapegoat. but the truth is, even if third-party voters voted for harris, that still wouldn’t have been enough. for example, at the time of writing (11/6), the total amount third-party votes in georgia adds up to only 0.7%. the margin is currently 2.2%.

the reality is that our system is deeply flawed. the democratic party kept insisting that biden was fit to run for a second term, and when they finally admitted he wasn’t capable, they left kamala just over 100 days to build a campaign. during those 100 days, she made choices that alienated voters who were looking to her to say simple things like “ceasefire now” or to not support fracking. she wasn’t able to do that, and any attempts at meaningful conversation—conversations that could’ve helped the democratic party’s positions accurately reflect its voters—was shut down.

i want to end with this: in-fighting will not help us. pointing fingers will not help us. what we need to do is come together as a united front. be allies to marginalized communities, protest, vote in local elections. most importantly, keep your empathy.

[ibijau]

gonna blame this on @robininthelabyrinth who suggested a dark AU where the Jin win, and Jin Zixuan has two pretty concubines as his prize. I ended up doing something a litte different, where instead the Jin side with the Wen at the start of the war, but hopefully it’s still fun :) 

also on AO3

Standing beside Wen Xu, Jin Zixuan tries to figure out where he's met the two young men they've just captured. A task made difficult by the weather (it has been raining for days now, and their new prisoners are caked in mud, especially after being pushed face first into the dirt road by Wen Xu) and the falling darkness (Wen Xu likes to attack at dusk or during the night, when others are tired and less wary). But Jin Zixuan knows them. He's almost sure he knows them. They certainly seem to know him. The tall one turned pale upon first spotting him, though that was his only reaction, and the shorter one won't stop glancing at him with barely restrained hatred. He looks almost familiar too, with his delicate face. They've met, Jin Zixuan knows they've met.

His attention is mostly on the tall man though. After all, even though their clothes are of equally poor quality, the taller young man is the one who showed some skill with martial art, and his speech betrays a higher level of education. He must be a rogue cultivator, and one of the good ones at that, since he managed to give them trouble without a spiritual weapon.

Where on earth has Jin Zixuan met him before?

“So, will you not join the glorious armies of Qishan Wen?” Wen Xu insists after his usually speech. “Hey, Zixuan, why don't you say something to convince them, hm? Earn your keep.”

Jin Zixuan flushes at being addresses this way. Normally, he hates how informal Wen Xu is with him, acting as if they were old friends, all because Jin Zixuan's father is a coward without morals. This time though, he lets it glide. Upon hearing his name, the taller prisoner looks up toward him and in that position, the rain washes off enough of the mud for Jin Zixuan to finally realise who it is in front of them. It knocks the breath out of him. This, definitely, could change the course of the war.

Jin Zixuan crosses his arms on his chest, and pretends to closely inspect the two men kneeling in the mud.

“If they don't join us, can I have that one to play with?” he asks, nodding toward the taller man. “He looks like he'd make a fun pet.”

The young man stares at him with disbelief, while Wen Xu, predictably, bursts out laughing.

“Zixuan, don't you already have a few whores with you? If you keep falling for every pretty face you see, your house if going to end up too full, and they'll start turning on each others.”

Jin Zixuan shrugs dismissively, the way he's seen his father do countless times. “If there's a fight, I'll get rid of both the winner and the loser, and replace them with someone prettier. But I like that one. He's got a face that's made to swallow cocks.”

Wen Xu laughs again. It's lucky that it's him with Jin Zixuan, and not his horrid little brother. Neither brothers are interested in men, but Wen Chao likes to be a pest who'd want his share of the fun before letting Jin Zixuan have what he wants. Wen Xu, by contrast, doesn't really care for the pleasures of the flesh, and has enough political awareness to give Jin Zixuan some face. He knows that if Jin Guangshan hadn't sided with the Wen so immediately after the destruction of the Lotus Piers, the Wen might be facing more opposition than they are at the moment.

“Zixuan, if you want him so much, then have him,” Wen Xu generously offers, gesturing toward the prisoners. “Or do you want both perhaps? Hm? The other one is somewhat pretty as well. If you don't grab him, I'm tempted of putting him in a dress and playing a prank on ChaoChao.”

Jin Zixuan shivers, and glances at the other young man. He knows he's seen him somewhere, but even now he can't figure out where. Is saving him worth the risk of ruining everything else? Is he important enough? If Jin Zixuan does nothing, if Wen Xu does play such a prank, that young man is sure to die. Wen Chao never takes well to being made a fool of, especially by his brother, and he tends to take out his anger on whoever is less susceptible to fight back. He also likes to make others bear witness to his fits of anger, especially Jin Zixuan who just doesn't do well with torture.

He can't save everyone. It'd be too dangerous. The Wens aren't stupid, and they don't trust him, not when Jin Zixuan sided against Wen Chao during the reeducation camp, before he went home to a father who'd taken the easy choice. And it is so important to save the taller man, Jin Zixuan knows, so he should take this small victory while he can and be satisfied with that.

But there's just something about the other one too. Jin Zixuan knows that face.

“You know, he would look pretty in a dress,” Jin Zixuan agrees, his heart beating so fast he feels as if he might be sick. “Too pretty to be wasted on your brother. He's not a cultivator anyway, is he?”

Wen Xu bends down and grabs they young man's wrist, inspecting his pulse for a moment before letting go and shaking his head.

“No, not at all. But aren't you scared to bring pretty faces into your home? Your whores might get tempted to do something stupid.”

“Heimei will keep them in check,” Jin Zixuan retorts. “She's too smart to mess around, and too mean to let others have fun if she can't.”

Heimei will also absolutely kick his ass about taking such a risk, if this turned out to have been a wrong move. At least, after getting over the sheer joy that should accompany the reveal of the taller prisoner. Hopefully, that should be enough to placate a little his moody concubine.

“Zixuan, you need to stop fucking people who could kill you in your sleep,” Wen Xu jokes. “Ah, I'm tired of this... sure, you can have them both, but tomorrow you're helping me interrogate those Lans we captured the other day.”

Clenching his teeth and forcing a smile, Jin Zixuan nods. He hates interrogations. He hates, also, that Wen Xu is convinced he's doing him a favour by making him help. Apparently, Wen Xu wants to help him become less sensitive, since he finds that Jin Zixuan has been too sheltered in his life, just because Jin Zixuan hasn't been watching his father torture people for fun since he was five.

Considering what other things Jin Zixuan has borne witness too, though... neither of them have great fathers, really.

With the matter of what to do with their prisoners settled, their group leaves the road. Jin Zixuan personally blocks the spiritual energy of the taller man who throws him a cold look for it, and they all head back to their headquarters in a nearby small town. Wen Xu chats the entire time, either to complain against the weather or to guess what their enemies' next move might be. It's a relief when they arrive in front of the house Jin Zixuan claimed for himself and they have to separate. Wen Xu's company is like poisoned wine: it's best to avoid it entirely, or only have a very small quantity otherwise.

Once inside, Jin Zixuan orders that a bath be drawn for himself in his personal quarters. Then, after a moment of reflection, he asks for a second one so that his new pets can get clean as well. The housekeeper offers to have them prepared for his pleasure and sent to him once they are more presentable, but Jin Zixuan refuses.

“It'll be fun to make them wash each other,” he says in the tone of voice his father uses sometimes, the one that always makes others uncomfortable. He's getting good at using it too. “But bring some clean clothes, and scented oils. I don't think Heimei will want to share. See if you can find a dress that could fit this one,” he adds, pointing at the smaller man whose face, under the mud, is black with restrained rage. “And make sure we aren't disturbed.”

The housekeeper bows to him and goes to give orders. While Jin Zixuan checks the news with other servants the Wens gave him, his prisoners are taken away to his quarters. Since there's no urgent business requiring his attention, Jin Zixuan is soon free to follow them.

The house he's living in used to belong to a rich merchant who ran away when the war broke so close to his home. Being abandoned, it was seized by the Wens and then offered to Jin Zixuan, while Wen Xu claimed for himself the local magistrate's manor. It was intended as an insult, a reminder of their sect's respective positions, maybe even a jab at Lanling Jin's inglorious origin. Jin Zixuan took it all in stride, because this house is bigger than the magistrate's, and his personal quarter well isolated from the servants' who are all loyal to the Wens.

It is an odd contrast to see those two muddy young men wearing robes of rough linen in the middle of Jin Zixuan's opulent room, where everything is gilded with gold or made of precious wood. Jin Zixuan pretends to ignore them while servants come in with bathtubs that get filled with hot water. He kicks off his shoes and lounges on a sofa to watch the proceeding, and waits.

He doesn't have to wait very long.

The first tub is only just filled up when someone wrapped in delicately embroidered silks storms into the room. Although the person's face is mostly hidden behind a veil, there's no hiding their anger.

“Are you trying to replace me?” Heimei shrieks in such a high voice that everyone present winces. “How many concubines do you need? Aren't I enough?”

“You are everything I could need, my little flower,” Jin Zixuan awkwardly replied. “I just thought it'd be fun to have new toys in the house. We captured those two men and since they're pretty enough, I figured it might be fun to watch them play with each other while my little summer fruit is seated on my lap. Don't you want that?”

“Don't presume to what I want!” Heimei explodes, before quickly glancing at the two men. Too quickly, in fact, to get a real look at their face. “They're dirty!” Heimei gasps. “They're going to ruin the floor! And you're ruining the sofa!”

“Then maybe my pretty little peach should help me out of these wet clothes,” Jin Zixuan suggests, as flirty as he can make himself to be. He's not very good at that, and can see the servants rolling their eyes, but the second tub is nearly full now. “Heimei, MeiMei, my sweet, my tender girl, be good and undress me.”

Heimei, of course, refuses, puts on a show about being unloved and discarded. Jin Zixuan is forced to rise from his seat to take Heimei in his arms, petting her hair, squeezing her waist, even letting his hands on her ass, all while professing that she is his one true love who he will marry as a second wife when the time comes. Heimei complains and whines but redirect his hands toward her chest so he can grope her there, and she's starting to untie his robes when the servants finally leave for good, careful to close the door behind them. There are silencing talismans engraved on the wood which only worked when the doors are fully closed, and nobody wants to hear what sometimes happens in this room.

As soon as they are alone, Jin Zixuan pushes Heimei away from himself, which Heimei understands to mean their usual comedy isn't needed anymore.

“Zixuan, what the fuck?” Heimei hisses in a deeper voice than before. “We agreed to lay low for a little bit!”

“I couldn't let them fall into Wen Xu's hands,” Jin Zixuan retorts, before walking to the two puzzled men, and bowing before the taller one. “Lan gongzi, please forgive me for speaking of you in such a manner before. I hope you understand the circumstances left me no choice.”

Lan Xichen's eyes open wide, as if he really hoped he hadn't been discovered. Truthfully, it was a close thing. Without his ribbon and his elegant white robes, Lan Xichen looks like a completely different person. Still, he's lucky that Wen Xu is somewhat bad with faces, or this could have gone bad.

“What do you mean, Lan gongzi?” Heimei gasps, rushing closer. After taking a longer look at Lan Xichen, Heimei gasps again, sobs, and falls into his arms. “Xichen-gege! You're alive, you're alive!”

More puzzled than before, Lan Xichen kindly allows this outburst of emotion from an apparent stranger. He awkwardly pats Heimei's back before trading a glance first with his companion who shrugs, then with Jin Zixuan who pinches Heimei's arm.

“You still have your veil on, remove it or you'll just creep him out.”

Heimei slaps away his hand, but pulls back enough to remove the tear drenched veil. It is Lan Xichen's turn to gasp in surprise.

“Huaisang? What are you doing here?”

Nie Huaisang nods grimly.

“Zixuan managed to find me before the Wen and helped me hide,” he explains, wiping away his tears. “I've been here with him since then, but we couldn't exactly let anyone know. We're on the wrong side of this war after all.”

Lan Xichen nods slowly, before turning his eyes to Jin Zixuan. His expression is a little less cold and disgusted now, though that's not saying much. Jin Zixuan knows how little liked he is by those on the other side of the Sunshot Campaign, and he cannot blame them. Without his father's support, the Qishan Wen might not be doing so well.

Without Lanling Jin's help, the Unclean Realm might not have fallen. Nie Mingjue might still be alive, leading this war the way everyone knows he's been preparing to do for years. Instead, what's left of Qinghe Nie is led by a far less talented cousin, and though the allied sects are doing their best, it's doubtful that they'll last much longer.

“I thought you were...” Lan Xichen starts saying, his voice trembling with emotion as he looks back at Nie Huaisang. He then catches himself, and gets back in control, speaking again with more calm. “Huaisang, you were assumed to have died in Qinghe. I am so glad this rumour was wrong. But I must wonder then... how much more lies have been spread about Jin gongzi?”

“It depends what you've heard,” Nie Huaisang says, coming closer to Lan Xichen and taking his arm the way he likes to do with friends. “We've been so busy trying to convince the Wen that he's really on their side, we haven't really had time to wonder what everyone else thinks of him.”

Lan Xichen nods, perhaps understanding how delicate their position has been these last three months. Or maybe it is just that Jin Zixuan's reputation is too awful to be mentioned by someone of the elegant Lan sect. Lan Xichen's companion ends up being the one to explain it, and it isn't pleasant to hear.

“People say that Jin gongzi is a murderer and a rapist,” the young man says quite bluntly. “They say he has killed many people even outside of battle, that he collects men and women as concubines. It is said that he even captured his former fiancée after she had already lost all her family, and refuses to give her to his mother who wishes to return her to her grandmother. Instead he uses her as a whore, and lets the Wen have their way with her in exchange for favours to him.”

The blood drains from Jin Zixuan's face at that accusation. He had expected something bad, but not to such a degree.

“Jiang Yanli's virtue is untouched!” he exclaims. “She's living here too, and I've convinced Wen Xu that she isn't to be touched because I want to use her as a tool to claim Yunmeng Jiang's territories when this is over. I would have preferred to let her return to her grandmother, but I'm half sure my father would have either claimed her for himself or sent her directly to Wen Ruohan to prove his good faith. You can meet her later, if you like, and see for yourself she's been treated as well as she could be, under the circumstances.”

After losing so much, Jiang Yanli is quite miserable these days, of course. She's the last survivor of her sect, of her family. Meishan Yu is taking part in the war, apparently, but they're not a particularly big clan, and Wen Chao has been targetting them particularly, in case they secretly harbour some Jiang survivors. Wen Xu once drunkenly told Jin Zixuan that although his brother swore to his father that he fulfilled his mission perfectly, he actually never found the corpse of Jiang Wanyin, so the young man could very well be still alive and plotting his revenge.

After hearing this, Jin Zixuan had hesitated to share the news with Jiang Yanli. In the end, he didn't. With the way the war is going, even if Jiang Cheng is still alive right now, he's unlikely to survive much longer, and Jiang Yanli would just end up having to grieve a second time.

“So you are on our side, Jin gongzi?” Lan Xichen asks.

“I would be if I could,” Jin Zixuan says. “I cannot go directly against my father, as I hope you will understand. But I do not like associating with evil people, so I try to act according to my convictions whenever possible. It has become harder lately. The Wen don't want to insult my father by pushing me to the side, for fear he'll change sides, but they've also figured out I am a rather poor general and never lead my troupes to any satisfying victories, so they don't involve me in anything important.”

It's not that he loses his battles. He can't afford that. But Wen Xu is always complaining that he's failing to capture enough prisoners, that so many escape while returning to their headquarters, that he's always picking too many to become his personal playthings. Nie Huaisang and him had just decided that he would try to be a little less obvious in his lack of cooperation, at least for a few weeks, if only because to continue like this would endanger the people he's already rescued. They still haven't figured out how to set these people free, but now, with Lan Xichen there, it becomes more urgent than ever. If he's discovered in Jin Zixuan's custody, it's all over.

“That you're trying at all is to your credit,” Lan Xichen says, more kindly that Jin Zixuan thinks he deserves when he's still had to kill people, where there are so many victims of the Wen he couldn't save. “I am grateful to you for helping me, Jin gongzi. I fear, though, that I must ask you to help me some more. Meng Yao and I really cannot be absent too long. Our side has lost too much already, if I appear to have disappeared again, I fear our allies will lose courage.”

The name Meng Yao startles Jin Zixuan who stares at Lan Xichen's companion with mild horror. He remembers a banquet for one of his birthdays, where his father was told a certain Meng Yao wanted to see him who carried a token. He remembers, also, his mother's anger, and later Jin Zixun laughing as he described that Meng Yao being thrown down some stairs like the bastard he was.

Jin Zixuan remembers all this. Judging by the barely contained heat in his eyes, so does his half-brother.

His father would be furious at him for having taken risks to save what he would consider one of his most shameful bastards, but Jin Zixuan has long stopped caring what his father thinks of him. He doesn't even read his letters anymore, since they're nothing but demands for Jiang Yanli to be sent to Lanling, and threats of punishment if he remains so incompetent as a general.

“It's going to be hard to release you,” Jin Zixuan says. “We'll think about it tomorrow, when Jiang Yanli joins us.” It was her, after all, who told him to disguised Nie Huaisang as a woman and present him as his capricious concubine, stating it would just seem like he's adopting the Wen's habits. “For now, please have a bath, eat something, and rest. You both look like you need it.”

“It has been a rough few days,” Lan Xichen confirms, bowing politely. “Thank you for your hospitality and your help, Jin gongzi.”

Jin Zixuan bows back, uncomfortable with a gratefulness he's really not sure he deserves. He then leaves that part of the room so Lan Xichen and Meng Yao can have a little privacy. Nie Huaisang looks as if he might stay and chat with them as they bathe, shameless as always, but Jin Zixuan drags him away.

Even if they've just been saved, even if they're grateful, he wouldn't be surprised if the two young men didn't fully trust them yet, not with the reputation he apparently has now. It's better to give them a chance to talk alone if they want, to show that he trusts them.

“This is going to be a mess,” Nie Huaisang remarks as they sit by a window to wait for their guests to be presentable. “You won't be able to stay neutral much longer, Zixuan.”

Jin Zixuan nods. If he's honest, it's a relief that he'll be forced to really pick a side after weeks of kissing ass and pretending the Wen siblings don't make him want to puke every time they say something.

He doesn't like the idea of going against his own father, but Jin Zixuan has betrayed his own values too long already.

And if he must die doing what's right... at least, he'll be in good company.

[spiritualgateway]

We are not impressed

wiritten by Steven Black:

Welcome.

This is mission control. We come with greetings from home and some thoughtful words. When we wrote you in the manual to act like natives on Earth and act just as narrow-minded, alarmist and ignorant as the majority of this planet lives, we did NOT mean this to be a permanent condition. It was only meant to allow you to pass as natives and be accepted as the same. We brought you, the troublemakers and rebels of the universe on board to kick the butts of the powerful on the planet hard, get things moving and wake up the sleeping majority rudely.

You've done a wonderful job of that. We are pleased about that. However, we are not impressed by the fact that a lot of you have been treading water ever since, doing nothing but creating more excitement and spreading some sensational information. No, folks. There was nothing about this in the manual and it wasn't planned that way. Seriously, we are not amused.

A few of you are running around proclaiming, "look, the end is near," and other participants in the cosmic plan suddenly desperately want to be Germans, Austrians, or whatever, and are indulging in national small-mindedness.

Hello, seriously now?

At the beginning some of us found it funny to observe beings, which were always known in the universe for expansion that they were suddenly occupied with shrinking and decreasing. Meanwhile, we don't find it so funny anymore. We find it quite exhausting. Like, by the way, some of the other things you fabricate there on Earth.

For the majority of the planet it is an accustomed, acceptable condition to see themselves only as receivers of information. You can just slap everything around their ears. And it is considered completely normal to simply pass on any information, no matter how negative and fearful it may be. They however should know that they are receiver AND transmitter of information. Please use your consciousness and your mind in the future, when you receive negative information again, before you simply pass it on. That is what a mind is for. You use it. Please be aware that any information should be checked for validity and sense first.

Further, make sure that what you want to pass on is really useful and helpful to other people. As a sender of information, you have a responsibility. Ask yourself, is this really the kind of energy I want to send into the world? It's not about not giving criticism. It's about examining that criticism for validity and usefulness. What is of no use to anyone is a waste of time - and energy.

Whether something is true or not cannot be evaluated by internet. None of you know the people behind who spread such information. You know neither their motives, nor the personal backgrounds to judge something like that. And the anonymous sources they refer to - well, the mainstream media work the same way. They know that, "close intelligence circles said, blah blah blah." Meanwhile, the "alternative media" is starting to work the same way.

Anyone can claim to care about humanity, the people or whatever. Most of the time other interests are at the forefront. Their predictable reaction when they believe this is fear, resistance, powerlessness, anger, hatred. It lowers their personal energy vibration to a little light that may just be blinking.

Did you know that there are more and more "social bots" in your so-called "social networks"? These are small programs that collect and spread information, especially used in political discussions, but also in sports and dating portals. Various political and economic interest groups use this tool to create the "right mood".

The postings are attributed to real people, but in fact various "News" are generated automatically and by machine. These social bots are so adaptable that it is almost impossible to distinguish between human and machine. At least not if you don't bother to check these "news".

Today, hate propaganda and xenophobia is often created by software and scattered on the Internet. There, this "fake news" meets people who, without checking, simply believe it because it seems to fit with their worldview - and off it goes, creating shitstorms. Be very clear about this. Just because something is possible doesn't mean it has to happen. But it can happen if you are not aware that your reaction serves the interests of power groups that are masters in creating enemy images and are very adept at turning people against each other.

There is a war going on on your planet for the information interpretation sovereignty, because "the power behind the throne" is fighting for its survival. Hereby it is tried to direct your attention and to areas which are far away from your personal life. Population management means arousing fears, reducing positive energies, injecting powerlessness and victim consciousness, and psychologically overwhelming the citizen in order to channel a reaction of anger, indignation, rejection. If consciousness has been successfully directed to a situation with a lot of information, some of it contradictory, and the individual is confused, the desired reaction occurs.

Stirring up trouble and waking up are only a tiny part of the multi-step plan, the main part is that you come back into your full power and demonstrate to the earthlings how to radiate from within. You seem to have completely skimmed over this chapter, or, knowing you, you didn't read it at all. This is bad. For us and for you. Not to mention the majority of the planet. All this 3 D actionism is starting to worry us. We get the strong impression that some of you are stuck in the middle of the process.

You are just repeating the information education that we started since the 1990s. All the information about the elite of this planet, mental manipulation, pharma, military, politics, wars, etc., served a purpose, but really should not be used for you to go here and point fingers at the supposed bad guys. Nor should you fight against them. We were hoping you would see the bigger picture in this. By processing the information given and really getting the point in what it's all about - which is you, personally - and realizing how the planet is controlled so YOU could stop falling for it and raise your personal vibration. Okay, didn't work so well, at least not for many of you. 

Please try to understand that the power behind the "official power", basically profits from hatred, anger, powerlessness, even if this hatred may be directed against them themselves, or various political, economic interests in which they have invested and are involved. Because anger, fear, rage, hatred, powerlessness, victim consciousness and helplessness are very low vibrating energy fields, the more people are stuck in it, the bigger the field and the easier it is to maintain the "status quo" and carry out their plans.

The fear of a world war and/or an irrational religious war of course works very much into their hands. This is how the old energy works, always has and it is now fighting for survive. Scattering fear, uncertainty and doubt are a powerful weapon in the hands of those who for millennia have power over the planet.

In the course of the further step ignition it comes now to the intensified dissolution of your energetic barriers, within their multi-dimensional bodies. You have probably already noticed that they are becoming more permeable. That is why these fear-inducing messages have such an impact on you. And if you do not make an effort to clear your emotional body, you may not succeed in overcoming the low vibrational fields. Because these go into resonance with repressed and hidden contents IN your own consciousness and your emotional field.

You are here to raise these fields. Since we cannot need energetic blockages, or various subtle constructs that block the energies we send to your material body and Mother Earth through YOU. Because if you are not free of these blockages, the soul parts and energies that we send to you for support keep coming back to us. We send in, it comes back. We send in, it comes back. We find this annoying, constantly operating in repeat mode without getting anywhere. So please, finally take care of it.

We are very aware that you are tired and very disillusioned. We told you at the beginning - going to Earth is one of the hardest jobs in the universe. But we also know you can still do it, and you will. Apart from that, unfortunately, there is no alternative. There is only you. You are all we have and we put all our trust in you - still, because we have no other choice.

While the denial of the facts staggers along its peak, the biosphere contains less and less oxygen, the food is enriched with more and more toxins and the ecological balance mutates to a term that mocks every serious description. However, there are no other special forces which we could send to mankind to hold it back from the abyss of self-destruction. They are on their own. You all knew this before and now we remind you again of the briefing that you found so boring.

They were so full of themselves and thought it would be a piece of cake to take care  and clean up on Earth. But the 3 D Matrix had them all under its spell. Unpleasant surprise, isn't it? In our experience, it takes a good 30-50 Earth years to fight your way through it. We gave you that time, but believe us - if you had paid more attention during the briefing and read the manual or at least just the emergency edition, you would have been spared a lot. Hopefully, that will teach you a lesson for the next time.

Please be aware, we need you! Mankind needs you, the earth needs you. And we have heard your personal calls for more help, which you sent to us on behalf of the people. But since this is probably a big misunderstanding on your part, we would like to remind you of another section of the briefing:

YOU are the help you are calling for! You and all other suicidal volunteers ARE the help we sent!

Pretending now that you are not in charge and hoping others will do the job will not look good on your leadership record. And demanding that God finally step in and fix this problem (yes, we heard that exactly) gives some of you an even less appealing report card. People caused the problems, people need to solve them too. Besides, God is at present fully occupied with the re - organization of universe and the creation of new codes and must not be disturbed (HE has given us personally to understand this).

You are on earth. You are responsible. You wanted the job and YOU also got it. So you make now obligingly something halfway reasonable from it.

Your present reality on earth looks honestly quite shitty. And that is actually good and wakes you up. There are truly more uplifting images we can imagine than watching a world afflicted by madness, whose social, economic and political world structure is falling apart, die. But that, of course, is what it's all about - dying. Your old, familiar, accustomed world is dying and there is nothing you can do about it. But many of you still try to stubbornly hold on to the old reality - and stop the dying process.

Things are changing, sometimes tremendously and in ways that none of you can oversee. However, you can help shape the way it happens. How chaotic it becomes is entirely in your hands. Some helpful points in this regard, for your kind attention:

    Keep a little distance from the free will of others and tame your spiritual ambition. Or best of all, direct the energy of your ambition toward the avoidance of spiritual ambition.

    If someone is desperate to spin the wheel, don't stop him. Cheer him on, because only a crash landing will bring him back to his senses.

    Please give up your remaining victim attitude and switch into the responsible creator mode. We certainly understand and know from our own earth experience how difficult it can be to discard cherished worries and various notions of how small and helpless you are. It's so terribly convenient to rant about everything and name culprits, there's no need to get off your own butt.

    Spread courage and optimism, no matter how little it may seem to be justified - but appearances are deceptive, they are always blinding. NOTHING is as it appears to be.

    Please stop trying to dissolve your ego. Instead, see to it that you get a reasonably sane ego that is at peace with itself. You cannot dissolve your ego, you can only split it off. And that is not something we would like to see in you. "The ego" is your vehicle through which you were able to have an experience in the first place.

    Please do not pretend that you are invulnerable and untouchable. What is happening here hurts, allow that pain. Meet the shadows inside you, integrate and digest these inner shadows. This will hurt, real shadow work breaks you open. This is a good thing and prevents the pain inside from forming into a weapon that turns against you.

    Stay with yourself even when the world around you seems to be going crazy. Sweep outside your own front door, there is plenty to do there.

    Rise above the low fields and try to wring something good out of your life.

Never forget that you are a star child who has successfully completed this task in many corners of the galaxy. Earth may be a particularly stubborn nut to crack, but you will crack that nut. In any case, giving up is not an option. Please pull yourself together and hold out, that would be even nicer.

Come on, impress yourself! Show us who you are and please stop playing the tourist!

 Written in the style of E.T. 101.

Nothing you read here is THE truth. It is my truth, my perception and how I see things – now, in this moment.

Until next time same station ..

THE INFORMATION SPACE

[thebiasrekkers]

Edge of Forever [BTS Space!AU]

BTS Space!AU [ ♧ ✪ ✿ ☆ ❂ ☾✘ ] “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.” The stage is set and the stars are the guide for the lost souls that have congregated to one point. A fixed constant in the universe for others to discover and fulfill their wishes but will it come to ruin for others?

Pairings: BTS X OC (s) Genre: BTS Space!AU Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language

AO3

AN: I’m so glad you all like this series! Graphics and all! There’s more to come so please be patient! Please give all of the works here love and feel free to message us!

Chapter 15- Before I Forget

I am a world before I am a man I was a creature before I could stand I will remember before I forget

The planet Izanami.

Kibeth was giving them the run-down on the planet, describing its atmosphere and environment as well as the history. From the outside, it looked very much like the Terran home world, very blue and green but was significantly larger than some of the gas giants that they’d seen on their travels. However, the planet was rich in minerals that stemmed from the volcanoes that were active on the planet. It was known as one of the Retreats, a classification of planets that could actively be visited but one had to go through all kinds of paperwork to even live there. 

Namjoon and Jin had already given the rest of the crew the news about the Bio-Android, something that had surprised most of them. Nyala had stayed silent on the issue, knowing that it would be hard to get her up and running again. However, the rest were very interested to know that there was another actual body that they had been carrying around with them all that time and never knew it. Yoongi had reached out with his network and found a few leads for them to explore while planet side, an idea already forming in his head. 

There were a few people there that owed him some favors, the rich that he had helped to get them where they were now. Izanami was a hard planet to settle on due to the natural resources that occurred there so he had helped a few of the residents to bypass some of those restrictions and even get some other cargo there too. He didn’t always help but when he did, there were some interesting stipulations that he would put on his deals to make them more interesting to follow up on.

Jin got the ship down to the planet side docking bay with very little disturbances along the way. It had been the first time he’d landed the ship so it had been a little harrowing for him but he didn’t let the others know that. He was still getting to know the ship and any altercations between him and the ship would have to be resolved by the time he made a second attempt at landing on another planet, should they get the chance to. 

There were several contacts that they could get in touch with while they were there about their issue. However, the time it would take for all of them to do so would extend their chances of having either side catch up to them. Even more so the Pirates since the area was protected by another group of them. There were multiple guilds other than the Demon Armada but since it was the biggest, they caused the most problems for everyone. Still, the ones protecting Izanami were more focused on the revenue that the place provided and since they had been out of most everyone’s area--the Federation helped them along, to an extent. As long as everyone scratched everyone’s back, then peace would reign supreme on the luxurious planet.  

They split up into two groups: Jungkook, Namjoon, Jin and Vairuit that would handle the contacts to the left side of the city while Jimin, Nyala and Yoongi were at the right of the city. They had Kibeth to link them to each other while on the ship, to monitor or intercept anything that was coming for them as it tied itself to some of the security systems for the port while docked there. 

Yoongi, Jimin and Nyala set out on their part of the city, Izanagi. It was the main capital of the planet and the largest port that they could access because the ship was much bigger than the ones that they had before. However, that meant more opportunities they could exploit while there as well. 

Regardless of how they were split up, Nyala found herself in the middle of a silent stand-off between Yoongi and Jimin. It was painfully obvious that the both of them still hadn’t squashed what it was between them and after the second person they found, she decided that enough was enough. 

Stopping the both of them and pulling them into a nice alleyway, she gathered some of her energy and created a binding that clasped around their wrists as a form of cuffs. Both of them let out starts of surprise but she held firm, even when Jimin pleaded with her to let him go. 

“Whatever it is between the both of you, it ends here. I understand the why but if the both of you continue to do this, then we will never get anything done. We don’t have time to fight with each other when the real enemy is on our tails as it is.” Nyala looked at Yoongi before continuing, “Look, I understand I’ve become a wedge in between what relationship you have with Jimin. But he is also someone who can make his own decisions too.” Not leaving the other out, Nyala then looked at Jimin before speaking to him as well. She had to ignore the look that he was giving her as she spoke to him. 

“Jimin, I understand that you feel restricted and resent Yoongi for what he did. But you have got to get over that as well because he was only looking out for you.”

She gave them both another look before walking away, still leaving them handcuffed to each other. They pulled at the restraints once she was out of sight and glared at each other. It continued like that for a couple of minutes before Jimin relented. He sighed and dropped his hands to his side, causing Yoongi to drop his hands as well. Neither of them spoke until Jimin leaned in and bumped his forehead with Yoongi’s. It wasn’t over between the both of them but they had come to an understanding, of sorts. 

When they exited the alleyway, Nyala was nowhere to be found and the cuffs started to lose their strength the further she got away from them. 

“Well he was a useless waste of time.”

Vairuit complained to the sky as they walked along the streets of Izanagi, headed in the opposite direction that the others went. The first guy only wanted to do everything at his own place but they ended up finding out that the guy only wanted to steal the technology that they had. Jin saw right through the man as he attempted to perform feats with the meager things that he had on his person while Namjoon dismantled the objects as they went along. They all started to feel a bit bored when they stopped because of Jungkook. He’d been out of sorts since the encounter with the Federation ship that held Namjoon and the feeling only gotten worse since landing on the planet.  

He turned around, looking intently at something as the others tried to figure out what was going on. Even Vairuit with her extrasensory senses couldn’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary--well, other than the person that had nearly run them over with their vehicle. 

“There’s something off about this area and it’s only getting worse the more we get closer to the edge of the city.”

That area is what the original residents call The Path of the Dead. It is an area that leads into a road that has been preserved since before the first settlers were here. That path leads to a series of caverns, once an ancient ruin. It is strongly advised that no one head down the path as many horrible things have happened there. The area is surrounded by hot springs and volcanic streams alike. 

Kibeth let them know of a little history for them since Jungkook mentioned it. He still gazed at the area, unsure about it all. However, that feeling of unease grew as Kibeth interrupted its own story telling to advise them of Pirate activity in the east where the other team had been spotted. It was unsure as to whom the sect belonged to, more than likely the group that controlled the area but the signal for the rest of them was being cut out. It made it difficult to triangulate where the three of them were since the dampening field was in effect. 

Jungkook pushed past Namjoon and Jin as he started to run towards the other team. The only one that could catch up to him was Vairuit, while Namjoon and Jin struggled to keep up with them. They weren’t as fit as the other two so they eventually gave up and signaled a vehicle to fetch them while the other two ran. 

Yoongi stopped, pulling Jimin along with him. He could have sworn he felt the mind of someone similar to Nyala, something that had been pulling him along. The cuffs had long disappeared and they both had been jogging to figure out where she had gone to. What he found, when he turned the corner, was someone hunched over a body and there had been several assailants there to surround them. 

The man was waving his jacket furiously at the ones that surrounded them like it would make them go away. At one point, Yoongi got a glimpse of who it was that was on the ground and he nearly collapsed when he realized that it was Nyala. Jimin had to hold Yoongi up and the action caused the thugs to look up at them, almost at once. The man turned around and saw them, a look of relief came across his sharp features but the look was short and fleeting as some attempted to go for Nyala. The other half of them started to go towards Yoongi and Jimin, the mark of a guild on their foreheads. Both of them knew, in that moment, that it wasn’t the Demon Armada that had tracked them down but another sect that had been in the area. 

If they had found them so easily then the Demon Armada wasn’t that far behind them. Yoongi thought, his mind racing as he came out with a plan of attack. Unfortunately for them, both of the main fighters had gone with Jin and Namjoon. Jimin bellowed out a yell before releasing his weapon, an electrified whip that was stored in his left arm. He normally would use it to disarm his opponents but once he had saw Nyala on the ground--a little bit of his self-control was lost. 

Yoongi pulled out a couple of Derringers, ones that he had modified to shoot energy bullets or blasts but they were hidden in his clothing and could only be used for about three shots per gun before being charged again. Taking aim, he took down two of the ones coming for him while Jimin rushed forward to defend the two. Yoongi alerted Kibeth of the developments, the latter advising him to hold on until the others arrived. 

[katedoesfics]

Shadows of Hyrule | Chapter 72

The city was overrun with monsters as they followed Ganondorf out of the darkness that enveloped the palace. Though most of Hyrule’s army was preoccupied elsewhere, defending the cities around the kingdom from the earlier attacks, the soldiers that remained to stand guard by the capital were quickly dispatched inside the city to defend against the newest threat.

The Champions were gathered together in the base just outside of the city, shouting at one another as they watched the battle unfold before the media outlets cut out completely. Each of them had their own idea of how to take on Ganondorf and his army.

“We can’t just dive in head first,” Urbosa said in a desperate attempt to rein them in. “We need a plan.”

“Urbosa’s right,” Revali said. “We know how rash and irresponsible Link can be.”

“When have I ever done anything rash or irresponsible?” Link said, crossing his arms.

“I have a list,” Mipha said dryly. “It’s alphabetized.”

���There isn’t much we can do,” Zelda said. “Link and I need to get in there and end this, sooner rather than later. You need to cover our asses while we do that.”

“Absolutely not,” Link said. “It’s not their job to cover us.”

“They’ll do a hell of a better job than our army,” Zelda said.

“No,” Link said sharply. “We go alone. End of story.”

“Then what the hell do you expect us to do?” Daruk said, his gaze narrowed on Link. “We’ve been a part of this since the beginning. You can’t expect us to back out now.”

“Yeah, get off your high horse, man,” Revali said. “We’re not sitting this out. Those soldiers don’t stand a damn chance. They need us.”

Link grit his teeth together. He knew he wasn’t going to win this. But at the very least, they would be out of the way of the bigger threat; Ganondorf. “Fine,” he muttered, his brows knit together. “But if shit goes south, get yourselves out. Understand?”

“Alright,” Zelda said with a nod, her gaze fierce on her friends. “Let’s end this."

Without a moment to lose, Hyrule’s Champions made their way back into the city with the next wave of troops. In the short amount of time since Ganondorf’s return, the city had transformed into a completely unrecognizable battlefield. Cars were strewn about the streets where people left them, fleeing in panic. Soldiers were either escorting the remaining citizens to safety, or were plunged deep in battle with Ganondorf’s army. On the edges of the city, medics had their hands full with soldiers and civilians alike, causing Mipha to hesitate as they hurried through the city. She could help them. She had to help them.

When she spoke up, Link didn’t think twice. He was unwilling to let her follow him and Zelda into the heart of the battle, and it seemed the safest place for her to be while still doing some good. Mipha didn’t waste a moment throwing herself into the chaos as the wounded were moved away from the battle, and she quickly disappeared.

“Look,” Zelda said quickly. “Link and I are going to find Ganondorf. Don’t follow us.”

“You’re insane,” Revali said.

“Our army needs help here,” she hissed. “Don’t get in our way.”

“Fine,” Revali said. “But the second Link drops the ball, we’re coming to save your asses.” He flashed Link a grin and a wink.

“Give him hell,” Urbosa said with a nod. “We’ll be here.”

“Crush ‘im!” Daruk called after them as they ran towards the palace.

They moved through the battle with relative ease, fighting through the occasional hoard of monsters that were not hindered by Hyrule’s army. To their dismay, however, Ganondorf seemed to be nowhere near the palace, despite the mysterious darkness that shrouded it. In fact, they were completely alone, not a soldier or other soul in the area. They looked out over the battle, their brows furrowed.

“Where is he?” Zelda hissed.

*****

Mipha dropped to her knees beside a Sheikah, working furiously to save a young woman who lay unconscious on the ground. She hadn’t been there more than twenty minutes, helping the other Sheikah and medics healing the injured, but it felt as if she had been there an eternity, and the wounded continued to come in quicker than they could heal.

“The boy,” the Sheikah said quickly, indicating with his chin. Mipha moved her gaze to a boy who stood just a couple of yards away, looking on with terrified eyes as the strange man worked at saving his mother. He had a deep gash in his head and it was bleeding profusely. Mipha hurried to him, and as she approached, the boy broke into tears. He trembled as she took him in her arms and placed a hand over the wound. Within moments, it was healed. The boy’s crying quieted as he patted his head where the gash had been. He looked at Mipha.

“Are you a Sheikah, too?” he asked.

Mipha smiled and shook her head. “No, not exactly.”

He frowned, but his attention was turned to his mother as she choked and coughed, catching her breath. He shouted for her and ran to her, throwing himself in her arms. Mipha stood, but she was immediately jerked backwards as Revali grabbed her wrist.

“Time to go,” he said.

Mipha pulled her arm out of his grasp. “What are you talking about?”

“Link will kill me if you die,” Revali spat. “And I’m not about to let that stupid asshole gut me with his stupid sword.”

She opened her mouth to argue further and question his motives, but she quickly got her answers. The ground began to tremble suddenly, and though she stumbled as she ran, Revali was quick to pull her up, keeping her on her feet as they continued to sprint through the busy city streets. Before she knew it, she was reunited with Daruk and Urbosa. The ground shook violently again, then exploded just yards ahead of them, splitting the ground and preventing them from moving further.

“What’s going on?” Mipha shouted as they slid to a stop. They turned on their heels, but they were completely cut off from the rest of the battle by the same strange cloud of darkness hat shrouded the palace. A wicked laugh seemed to come from the darkness. A cloaked figure stepped through. In one hand, he carried a large, deadly sword. He held his other hand up before him, and a piece of the Triforce glowed and pulsed. In his palm, the darkness swirled and moved as if it were being sucked into his hand. For a split second, the air fell silent, then the darkness burst forth in the form of a ball of energy that plunged towards them, only to bounce off of Daruk’s shield. Daruk yelped under the force of the attack and his shield quickly fell as the attack was diverted.

Ganondorf moved towards them, removing the hood of his cloak and smiling wickedly down at them as they stumbled backwards. Daruk and Revali pushed Urbosa and Mipha behind them, but Ganondorf pushed in closer still, raising his arm once more.

“Where are they?” he growled. When they didn’t answer him, his smile disappeared. “You cannot protect them from me,” he hissed. His fingers curled into his palm and once more, the ground began to tremble. He thrust his open palm toward them and in one final, desperate attempt to keep his friends alive, Daruk erected his shield around them and braced himself for impact.

But the impact did not come. Instead, the darkness that swirled in Ganondorf’s palm was quickly diminished by a warm, golden streak of light. It slammed into his palm, knocking him backwards and providing enough of a distraction as Link threw himself at Ganondorf, sword in hand. There was a loud clang as steel met steel and Ganondorf pushed back against Link’s surprise attack. But Link held his ground, grunting under the force until he found the strength to dislodge himself, jumping backwards as Ganondorf came at him with his sword.

“Let's go,” Daruk said with a grunt, pulling at Mipha's wrist, but Mipha pulled out of his grasp.

“No!” She tried to run to Link, but Daruk pulled her back once more and ran forward to catch up with Revali and Urbosa.

“We'll only get in the way,” he hissed back to her. “We agreed to stay out of the way.”

Mipha hesitated, looking over her shoulder once more before letting Daruk drag her away. She didn’t want to leave Link alone, but she knew Daruk was right. It was just as Urbosa had said to her only a week ago. She was too much of a distraction. She couldn’t be the reason for Link getting hurt.

The sound of clanging steel continued as Link lunged at Ganondorf, every attack met with a strong defense. As Ganondorf dislodged Link’s blade, he came at Link with his own. He was much stronger, however, and Link could not deflect the blows as he had hoped, leaving him to resort to jumping and dodging each swing. He had the advantage in speed however, which was just enough to allow him to spring forward immediately after he dodged Ganondorf’s attack, only to have his attack blocked again and again.

Ganondorf’s sword came down across Link’s once more, but this time, the block didn’t feel as forceful. He bared down against Link, but otherwise, showed no signs of continuing the battle. He grinned at Link, seemingly pleased with himself.

“How much more must we continue this, Chosen Hero?” Ganondorf said. “You know as well as I do that I get stronger and stronger, each and every time. And you have become more and more foolish.”

Link ignored his words as he put the weight of his body behind his sword, pushing Ganondorf backwards, but Ganondorf was quick to dislodge himself before Link could do so, and with a simple, all too easy swing of his blade, the Master Sword was flung from Link’s hands. Before Zelda had a chance to react, Ganondorf thrust his palm out toward her, and she immediately dropped to the ground.

Link shouted to her, his gaze moving from her, to Ganondorf, to the Master Sword, and back to his enemy. He stepped backwards as Ganondorf pressed forward, closer to him.

“Hyrule is mine,” he hissed. “The Triforce is mine!” He raised his arm, collecting another ball of dark energy, and threw it at Link. Link threw himself out of the path of the attack, rolling away as it burst upon impact with the ground beside him.

“Die!”

Mipha looked over her shoulder as they ran, stopping suddenly and yanking her arm out of Daruk's grasp. Daruk, shouting to Revali and Urbosa, slid to a stop, spinning on his heels to catch Mipha once more, but his attention moved beyond Mipha to the fight before them as Ganondorf's sword plunged into Link. Link looked down, horrified, at the sword that had pierced his gut, his vision quickly fading. Mipha's shrieks echoed through his quiet mind as his hands clutched at his stomach. He struggled to breathe, but his lungs could not fill themselves, and he could only gasp desperately as he dropped to his knees.

Mipha’s vision blurred as she tried to run to Link, ignoring everything else around her, but once more, someone pulled her backwards, and the force caused her to fall to her knees as she screamed for Link. She watched in horror as the darkness seemed to swarm in around them. But just before it had a chance to cut them off from the rest of the world, a bright, golden light burst forth, arching over them and dispelling the darkness completely.

Ganondorf’s booming shouts could be heard throughout the city as Zelda stood before him, her arm raised to the sky. The golden light enveloped them quickly, seemingly stopping Ganondorf in his tracks completely.

Mipha screamed Link’s name once more, but there was no sign of him. In the bright light that Zelda had created, she could no longer see where his body lay. The hands that had stopped her pulled her back to her feet, and she turned to sob into Rusl’s chest.

“I can heal him!” she shouted, pulling back, but Rusl’s hands were tight on her wrists. “Let me heal him!” She could barely see through the tears that welled in her eyes, but was still surprised to see Link’s father clutching her. At this realization, she fell against him once more and sobbed.

Rusl wrapped his arms around her. He looked passed her to where his son fell, to where Zelda stood tall, holding back Ganondorf as he continued to shout with rage. He looked up as Daruk’s shield erected around them, then over his shoulder through his blurred vision as Ganondorf’s troops hurried towards them.

“That fucking asshole,” Revali spat, but he, too, was just as distraught as his friends. “What the fuck are we supposed to do?”

“We can’t leave Zelda up there,” Urbosa said. Her cheeks were wet, but she turned her gaze to Zelda.

Rusl pushed Mipha away from him and reloaded his weapon. “Get out of here,” he barked at them. “Get out of the city, to the base. Dorian will be there waiting.”

Daruk opened his mouth to argue, but Rusl cut him off abruptly.

“If you all die, we’re fucked! Now move!”

Daruk pulled at Mipha, and once more, they were running through the city. They didn’t know what would happen next, for none of them had planned to lose the war. But if anyone would have an answer, surely it was the Sheikah. Surely the war could still be won...

[dewitty1]

Chapters: 47/47 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald (brief mentions), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (very brief mentions), Assorted background canonical pairings Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Most everyone who appeared in canon Additional Tags: Horcrux Hunting, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animagus, Dragons, References to Switching, super slow burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Brief scene of dubious consent (medicinal aphrodisiac), brief homophobic language, Minor Character Deaths, Patronuses, Mates/Mating, Sexual Content, Canon Rewrite Summary:

[Extensive re-telling of Deathly Hallows] ‘Kill Albus Dumbledore’ is less a challenging task and more a suicide mission, so when Draco Malfoy is presented with the option to either dispatch his Headmaster or suffer an excruciating and most ignominious death of his own, along with his parents, he reaches deep into his black little Slytherin heart and manages to scrape together enough courage to go with option C instead: Spend Sixth Year secretly studying Animagecraft in the hopes he’ll turn into something sufficiently imposing even the Dark Lord himself won’t be able to keep Draco under his thumb. But just his luck, his Animagus form turns out to be a dragon, and a rather randy juvenile at that, intent on finding its mate: one Harry James Potter.

Excerpt:

Malfoy really wasn’t helping anything; this was going to be difficult enough as it was, but with Malfoy griping and complaining the whole way, it was going to be downright dismal.

They were adults; surely they could be mature about this. Probably. “Well—think of it this way: you stopped fighting the urge to transform, and it didn’t turn out so bad, did it? Maybe this will work out the same.”

Malfoy sneered. “I’ve heard tell of your snogging prowess, Potter; trust my expectations are at the ground floor.”

And now Malfoy had bruised his ego. Harry’s patience could take quite a beating, but this was a bridge too far. “Oh, and you’re so much better at it? Felt like you were going to gnaw my face off earlier.” It wasn’t entirely the truth, but he took the swipe anyway.

“I’m at least the more experienced between us,” Malfoy said, studying his nails.

“Sure about that, are you? You’ve only ever seen me at school—but you know I’ve spent my summers with my Muggle relatives, and when I’m not with them, I’m with the Weasleys, who live near a lovely wizarding village of several hundred.” Harry could count the number of times he’d set foot in Ottery St. Catchpole on one hand, but Malfoy didn’t need to know that.

Malfoy’s expression darkened at the implication, and Harry felt a brief flicker of concern; perhaps it wasn’t the smartest of ideas to trigger what were likely deep veins of jealousy and possessiveness.

He took a steadying breath and paced out a circle, letting their tempers cool. “…Look, I know this isn’t ideal—” Malfoy snorted as if to say No, really? “But we’ve both got far bigger, more important issues to focus on now, so let’s just…do this, so we can move on?”

“Fine,” Malfoy ground out, wrinkling his nose. “…Try again, if you must. I’ll try to tamp down the urge to clock you this time.”

“Wh—now?” Harry blinked, thrown. He hadn’t realised Malfoy would expect them to just get right to it.

“Backing out, Potter?” Malfoy arched a brow, lips pressed into a thin, judging line. Like he’d known Harry would try and weasel out of the agreement. “What was all that talk for, then?”

“No, just—I mean, I thought…” Well obviously, whatever he’d thought, he’d thought wrong, and he should have seen this coming. Malfoy had been dancing on the edge of a breakdown for several days now, and with potential salvation so near at hand, the urge to claw back some of that reassurance and confidence would be nigh unbearable. “…All right.”

Malfoy swallowed, throat bobbing, and uncrossed his arms. He was holding himself stiff as a rail, and he looked terrified.

“Did you…want to close your eyes again?”

“No I did not. Just get it over with.”

Malfoy’s voice broke just on the end, and he seemed to bite his tongue in frustration. Harry took several measured steps forward until the toes of his trainers kissed the tips of Malfoy’s fancy leather loafers—where had he dug out all these spells for this ridiculously fashionable wardrobe?

Was he meant to touch Malfoy? They hadn’t discussed etiquette—and at this point, Harry didn’t really want to. Discussing it was nearly as bad as doing it, so he decided to play it by ear. Touch was something that he knew settled Malfoy, at least on a subconscious level. If Malfoy didn’t want Harry touching him, he would surely let Harry know.

He brought his hands up and let them rest just at the knobby joint of Malfoy’s elbows, steadying the both of them in the tentative embrace. 

He could feel the fine thread of tension racing through Malfoy’s sinewy body, stretched tight and taut and ready to snap in the next strong breeze. 

Slowly, so as not to spook, Harry traced the jut of bone, memorising it, like Malfoy had done to him after the close call in Godric’s Hollow. He felt the tension ease, though only a hair, and Malfoy released a soft, haggard breath.

Harry found himself suddenly over-conscious of his technique. His earlier boasts of experience had been pure bravado, and while Harry was not entirely ignorant of the dynamics of kissing someone, he was certainly no Casanova. He and Malfoy were the worst people in the world to be stuck doing this. They were both equally terrified of losing face in front of the other, and both able to cut each other particularly cruelly if they felt so inclined. When it came down to it, Harry thought he’d probably rather kiss Voldemort than Malfoy, if only because he didn’t really care what Voldemort thought of him.

He did care what Malfoy thought of him, though. It was curious to think, but true. He didn’t want to seem cruel, or insensitive. He had so much power over Malfoy right now, in so many respects, and he wanted to show Malfoy that this trust he was obliged to place in Harry—this trust he would never have freely offered—was not unappreciated and not something Harry took lightly. He wanted to show him he appreciated the efforts Malfoy was making—though the steps were small at times, and he backslid on occasion.

The larger battle they were embroiled in now, together, made these smaller ones seem so inconsequential, and he just wanted to stop wasting his energy on these pointless fights so they could focus on the more important ones.

Harry lifted his chin, tilting his head just to the side so that the tips of their noses brushed—and Malfoy inhaled sharply, holding his breath. Harry stole his moment, leaning forward to bring their lips together. They held there for a long beat, neither moving, with mouths clamped shut and lips pursed tight. It was nothing like the heat and bruising force Malfoy had used on Harry earlier, and Harry felt a bolt of panic spear through him. He hadn’t a clue where to go from here—when the other party was this unenthusiastic, generally it was good manners to stop—and any moment now, Malfoy was going to realise he’d been bluffing and storm off in a strop.

But then Malfoy let his mouth fall open, just a hair, and a breathy little sigh escaped. Harry gave a gentle tug on Malfoy’s elbows to draw him down, closer, and he deepened the kiss. Malfoy’s hands slid up to curve around the back of Harry’s shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt with an edge of desperation, and he let Harry nibble on the soft of his lip. He pressed forward, for more contact, and Malfoy met him, turning into the pressure and running his tongue over the seam of Harry’s lips, like he’d done before.

It was slick, and hot, and bloody brilliant. Another way to make Malfoy shut up, aside from the occasional little sigh or catch of breath, and if Harry just focused on the sensations, gave himself over to it, it was…really not bad. 

Not bad at all. 

Too easy, in fact, to forget who he was doing this with and why. Too easy to just let it happen, to do it.

Harry took an open-mouth breath, and Malfoy’s tongue slipped between his lips, brushing against Harry’s. It was alarmingly hot, but Harry struggled to find the will to break the kiss to address it. It probably wasn’t important. Probably. He nipped Malfoy’s lower lip, then laved his tongue over it in apology. “…Is your tongue getting hot because you’re about to puke fire, or…?”

“Dunno…” Malfoy’s pointy nose was digging into Harry’s cheek, and his lashes fluttered against Harry’s. “Should we stop, to be safe?”

“Nah…” Harry said, muzzily, and laid down a soft, insistent kiss at the corner of Malfoy’s mouth, encouraging him to turn into it at a lovely angle that let Harry cover Malfoy’s lips wholly with his own. They moved with a gentle, languid rhythm that Harry could get drunk on, and what had he been worried about? How had he thought he could screw this up? They fit perfectly, so warm and right, and it was like Malfoy read his mind—couldMalfoy read his mind? Oh, what if they used Legilimency and—

A hand came to rest on Harry’s hip, though, and Malfoy drew back, their noses brushing. Harry’s breath was coming in warm, short huffs, and he felt flushed all over. His lips tingled, plumped and full, and he tamped down a giddy little grin, tilting his head to press in again—but then Malfoy pulled back, properly, and glanced away, covering his mouth with his arm and clenching his eyes shut tight.

Harry tensed. “What? Wh—did I do—”

Malfoy just shook his head, taking a step back. With the distance came fresh air, and each breath cleared the haze from Harry’s mind just a bit more. He took a moment to put his head back on straight while Malfoy collected himself.

Fuck. He’d just been snogging—full on snogging—Draco Malfoy. And…and he’d kind of liked it. Granted, that had been the point of the whole exercise: human contact, intimacy, and that damned reassurance. 

The dragon had to be purring like a kitten after that display, surely. Harry could say, unequivocally, that he’d never done anything like that with…well, anyone.

 If Malfoy needed further reassurance that he was not someone Harry was going to dismiss so easily, that he was not someone Harry was disgusted to touch, Harry didn’t know how he could express it. 

He’d had Malfoy’s tongue halfway down his throat, for god’s sake.

[satisfaction-explorations]

Suppose that a bigger problem is made up of a million points. Each of these points is breaking through something hard (whether by 1 go or by 100 different pushes) to get to the final solution. And these points are ranked from the #1 hardest block to the millionth hardest block.

Because if there’s a million, it’s motivating that we move as many points as we can, isn’t it? At the end of the day, we didn’t just move 1, we moved 100 or 1000 or 10000 or 100,000. That’s motivating if you’re working on several things right (e.g. Venezuela and Yemen)?

The problem with the million points method is how to figure out which group of people should solve each group of points, because, well, there’s a million points.

Maybe you use the million points method to motivate yourself when you’re working on multiple problems (e.g. I’m going to focus on 20 this week- you might focus on 3 or 6- or 1,2,10- whatever motivates you),

And the 10,000 problems method is for figuring out what group of people should solve what types of problems (as it’s not overwhelming)

And it helps to always stretch yourself a bit- aim for the harder points, the harder #s, in a sustainable (i.e. motivating way)

Maybe the easier parts of the 1 million aren’t that hard, they’re pretty easy

 And in a more overall way, I wonder what the best worldwide methods could be for:

Effectiveness- 1 million best points

Safety- 1 million best points

Rewards/Motivations- 1 million best points

Self-care/Health/Take not aging much seriously Please- 1 million best points

Because it looks like there is a strong likelihood for the sanctions to continue on the PDVSA in Venezuela, how would you create 100 new ethical, safe income sources for the most vulnerable Venezuelan people? As in, what would some of them be, in a way that covered all or most of the most vulnerable people, income wise? 

They would need to be “incomes that cover all of a family/person’s needs, at the different levels going for- e.g. going for level 1, going for level 2, going for level 3”- e.g. a whole income/business/self-employed with low capital startup that employs a tonne of Venezuelans- especially those that bring in export money.

And how can Venezuelans (and foreigners- although treat this like a boost rather than any kind of dependency) intensively train Venezuela’s most at-risk and vulnerable to quickly get the skill level to do these?

For example, it seems like 4 potential income sources for Venezuelans are (1) contracts in ship parts, and anything to do with ships- how do you win contracts with these, (2) anything that makes the other Latin American countries better off with transportation- how do you win contracts with these, (3) manufacturing cleaning goods, (4) IT skills or app development- we don’t need computer science or IT degrees- we just need job tasks that need to be done, and we can export them and everyone can get enough money for food, gas and needs; and people who organize these (high value), (5) ethical ways to optimise your immune system and survive the coronavirus.

For people in Venezuela, it would be incredibly important to build (ethical) relationships with the outsiders who could help a lot and see them as potential boosts in the points up to solutions that cover everybody- but do not be dependent or sit around and wait for outsiders- in very, very, very safe ways, keep creating momentum yourselves too. 

Therefore, money comes into the country via these exported sources. Then the people working in these export businesses also spend some of their disposable income on local businesses. Then some of the local businesses support local businesses. That’s the idea. Money flowing in, with a % spent on internal businesses.

And what are the 5 structural things that most need to be done to support this- e.g. do people in more vulnerable areas have more access to

Because considering the recent report and what is happening with not allowing elections that genuinely reflect what the people need and want (as well as the drug and crime related risks to the international community), the sanctions might be there for another 4-8 years.

It is also worth all Venezuelan focusing 99% of their emotions and energy on the things that they Can Do, Control or Influence (currently existing and to be created/thought of), and avoiding thinking about things that they can’t Do, Control, or Influence (stoicism).

World help would also be greatly be appreciated as this is one of the world’s biggest humanitarian disasters.  

What are the hardest one million points that need to be solved and implemented for persuading the 150 most powerful and influential people in government to genuinely do what is best for the people?

The one million hardest bits that need to be solved and implemented?

What are the hardest one million points that need to be solved and implemented so that the most vulnerable 40% of Venezuelans- and especially the most vulnerable 5%/10%/15%- have enough to get by/ aren’t too stressed- and for real reasons, not false ones. 

I have given it about 20 goes so far, most reaching maybe 10-10,000 points each. But every time I reach something that creates huge points (e.g. 100,000) I’m feel really excited and happy. 

Work done in the spirit of service is the highest form of worship. Abdul Baha

The diversity in the human family should be the cause of love and harmony. Abdul Baha

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fbahaiteachings.org%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2018%2F08%2Fmona-jamali-love-is-a-light-wooden-piece.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fbahaiteachings.org%2Fhow-to-creatively-share-unifying-teachings-bahai-faith%2F&tbnid=9hCKur4-acOqVM&vet=12ahUKEwjouN68pq_sAhX-zXMBHX_cBUsQMygTegQIARA6..i&docid=Z5QdZVAQf0FUoM&w=900&h=900&q=baha%20quote%20if%20you%20meet%20those%20of%20a%20different%20race%20and%20colour%20from%20yourself&ved=2ahUKEwjouN68pq_sAhX-zXMBHX_cBUsQMygTegQIARA6

https://www.caracaschronicles.com/2020/10/02/venezuela-the-fourth-worst-alimentary-crisis-in-the-world/

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2020-06-25/a-fifth-of-food-output-is-wasted-in-famine-threatened-venezuela

https://www.infobae.com/america/venezuela/2020/10/10/los-metodos-de-censura-en-venezuela-tenemos-detenidos-hasta-por-sus-estados-de-whatsapp/

https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2019/2/23/venezuela-the-military-and-its-support-an-explainer

https://www.infobae.com/america/venezuela/2020/09/25/el-reclamo-de-un-militar-retirado-a-vladimir-padrino-lopez-no-recibimos-pension-sino-una-pequena-ayuda-que-no-cubre-el-5-de-la-canasta-basica/

https://reliefweb.int/report/venezuela-bolivarian-republic/venezuela-crisis-response-situation-report-september-2020

https://www.stabroeknews.com/2020/09/27/opinion/letters/guyana-will-only-support-a-democratic-change-that-brings-better-outcome-for-all-venezuelan-people/

https://www.peacepalacelibrary.nl/2016/01/essequibo-the-territorial-dispute-between-venezuela-and-guyana/

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2020/feb/24/venezuela-hungry-food-insecure-un-world-food-program

https://www.infobae.com/america/venezuela/2020/09/27/el-bid-destinara-8000-millones-de-dolares-para-reconstruir-venezuela-durante-la-transicion-democratica/

https://www.stabroeknews.com/2020/10/13/features/project-syndicate/taking-venezuelas-human-rights-crisis-seriously-2/

https://www.wsj.com/articles/venezuelas-food-chain-is-breaking-and-millions-go-hungry-11601544601

https://www.usnews.com/news/world/articles/2020-10-12/in-venezuelan-rural-heartland-angry-maduro-supporters-fuel-protest-wave

https://www.nationalheraldindia.com/opinion/we-are-judged-by-the-way-we-treat-the-weak

Act justly, love mercy, walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8

Let’s also all memorise that superficial appearances mean nothing. We are all individuals: all of us. 

Real liberty can exist only where exploitation has been abolished, where there is no oppression of some by others, where there is no unemployment and poverty, where a man is not haunted by the fear of being tomorrow deprived of work, of home and of bread. Only in such a society is real, and not paper, personal and every other liberty possible. Joseph Stalin

img.libquotes.com/pic-quotes/v3/j-stalin-quote-lba6o2y.jpg

quotes.thefamouspeople.com/images/quotes/joseph-stalin-79745.jpg

A true revolutionary is not one that demonstrates value in the period of the victorious uprising, but who knows how to fight not only at the time of the victorious advance but also at the retreat of the revolution; that demonstrates value in the period of the defeat of the proletariat, which does not lose the head, which does not abandon the road when the revolution suffers a defeat and the enemy records successes; which is not dominated by panic, or falls into despair in the retreat of the revolution period. Joseph Stalin

revolutions seem unsafe and scary

Quantity has a quality all it’s own. Joseph Stalin

quotes.thefamouspeople.com/images/quotes/joseph-stalin-61626.jpg

There needs to be a better way than sanctions though. If a country is a dictatorship, there is very little the people can do to remove it. Dictatorships frequently just don’t give a shit and ignore the worst suffering of their people. because they can. people dont have the power to change much in these contexts, other than help themselves and their communities. 

Rather than doubling down on cruel policies and draconian economic sanctions that squeeze the Venezuelan people -- but benefit the regime by giving them false excuses for economic failures (e.g. hyperinflation and the most at risk, not being able to diversify ethical industries, and public services) - a new US-Venezuela policy should seek to help the people. America's failed policies on Cuba should be a lesson, and Venezuela should not fall victim to a repeat of that approach. For decades, provided the Cuban regime with an excuse for failed local economic policies, and now doing the same for Venezuela. Never-ending sanctions on Cuba have not resulted in regime change. That tactic will not work in Venezuela either. Sweeping economic sanctions primarily hurt the people of these countries.

Targeted sanctions on specific individuals in the Maduro government, military, and security services would be more effective. By the end of 2019, and almost a year after the United States imposed broad economic and oil sanctions on Venezuela, 96% of households in Venezuela were living in poverty, and of that number, 79% in extreme poverty. Yet, Maduro remained in power. US sanctions should target Venezuelan nationals supporting and funding Maduro; those who commit human rights violations; those who undermine democratic processes and institutions like the National Electoral Council (CNE); and those who run drug trafficking and money laundering operations.

However- the PDVSA is (1) a huge source of tax- for public services and (2) a huge employer and a (3) a huge source of exports for the imports that Venezuela needs. Also, focusing only on not importing anything is a short term strategy but not a medium or long term strategy. The highest income and product value benefits come from exporting and importing, as most sea-based countries learn over time.

The blunt tool of general sanctions further degrades the poor economic conditions in which the majority of Venezuelans now live. We are deepening their suffering rather than providing leverage for a solution.

[quickwrites]

Papa Kitty: Red vs Blue

“Open up, it’s me,” Keith said, placing a hand on the shield between him and the red lion. Silence filled the hanger as he waited with a growing frown. “It’s me,” he repeated louder and slower. “Keeeeeith. I’m- I. AM. YOUR. PALADIN!” He took a step back as the shield remained stubbornly up and scowled. “Come on,” he shouted, punching the barrier. “I’m bonding with you here! Don’t ignore me! Bad enough I can’t bond with any other humans don’t add giant metal cats to the list.” He leaned against the shield, feeling it hum under his palm and closed his eyes. “Open up!”

Behind him the doors hissed and he spun on the spot, bringing up his shield just in time to block the bolt aimed at his chest.

“We have to go,” he shouted at the lion, activating his bayard into the slashing sword. The massive beast didn’t move and Keith felt his frustration rise. A roar tore through his throat as he ran at the sentries attacking him, making quick work of all three. Looking back he saw that the lion was still shielded but that there was something standing on top of it.

Was that a- he thought only to jump backwards as a blue bolt fired at his feet. 

“Red doesn’t seem to like you very much,” a high mocking voice called from the lion’s head. “You should probably turn over that bayard and run on home before you get hurt.”

“Impossible,” Keith breathed, seeing the blue armor as his lanky attacker leveled his weapon at him.

“Look, man,” Lance called down. “I’m being /reeeeally/ generous about this whole thing. Trust me you do not want Sendak to find you in here and be really happy the Emperor had to go back to base. Just set the bayard on the ground, turn around and walk out of here. I don’t know what lies you’ve been told but this whole thing is so much bigger than you think it is.”

“What are you talking about,” Keith shouted, keeping his shield between him and the blaster aimed down at him. “You are helping a military government that if given the chance would invade and destroy your entire planet and it’s people.”

“You- you don’t have all the information,” Lance replied, his voice tight. “Look just- quiznak,”

Keith heard the doors behind them and glanced quickly behind him to see half a dozen more sentries running in. He was aware of Lance shouting something but didn’t process it as he pushed off towards the control panel. 

“Wait,” Lance shouted, seeing Keith’s plan a second before the bay doors opened.

Keith’s helmet automatically closed around his mouth as the vacuum sucked him and the sentries out into open space. There was a roar for just a second as he was pulled backwards, fingertips just missing the console he had destroyed then silence saved for his own rapid breathing as he spun freely in the negative gravity. 

Okay, okay, he thought, struggling to breath regularly. Papa taught you about this. What did he say to do if thrown out of your spaceship? “Uhhh,” he said out loud, catching a glimpse of something blue blurring past him. Before he could think another blur, this time red, rushed towards him then blackness as gravity returned. The lion, he thought, gasping after hitting the ground. He wasted no time reaching the cockpit, sliding into his seat as the lights turned on.

“Good kitty,” he said, smiling to himself then looked out. In front of him was another lion, hovering in the air between him and the galra warship. 

“Lance,” Hunk’s voice shouted through their coms, the yellow lion flying around the corner to hover at a third point between Red and Blue. “Buddy! You’re alright!”

Blue was silent. Keith felt his lion vibrate under his hands, almost as if letting out a warning growl, and a cold sweat trickle down his neck.

“Surrender now,” Lance’s voice said over their comlinks. “Do so quietly and you will not be harmed.”

“Not going to happen,” Keith shot back and pushed the controls forward. 

A fight between two ships was referred to as a dogfight, Pidge would note later. But if the two ships are shaped like lions wouldn’t it be a cat fight?

Dog or cat, the fight between Lance and Keith in their lions was a violent but short one. Lance was more in tune to his lion and was using weapons that Keith couldn’t find in his controls but Keith’s lion and reflexes were faster. They could both hear Pidge and Hunk yelling at them to stop fighting but neither would back down. The Green and Yellow lions kept the fighters flying out of the warship at bay as Blue and Red struck then broke apart again and again.

Keith could feel the damage to his lion as if it was damage to himself but could also feel it’s stubbornness. The lion didn’t want to back down any more than he did and he used that drive to strike again and again, finding every opening Lance gave him. He didn’t know Lance but from the stories Pidge and Hunk had shared knew his behavior wasn’t normal. He did know the empire and their methods and could only imagine what they did to the Blue Paladin to turn him against the universe like this. He would not leave the Blue Lion or it’s Paladin in their hands.

The ground team was reporting in. Shiro’s voice cut through Keith’s com. “We have the castle,” he said, his voice calm and even. “Taking off now. Report in. Hunk, is that ion canon out of commission? Keith, do you have the Red Lion?”

“Y-yeah, Shiro but-”

“We have a bigger problem,” Pidge shouted over Hunk’s hesitation. “Lance is here and he and Keith are tearing each other apart! We can’t stop them!”

“What,” Allura’s voice shouted. “What do you mean Lance is there? Why are they fighting?”

“I’m taking Lance down,” Keith said, his voice surprisingly calm even to him. “He’s brainwashed or something. I’ll knock his lion out and we can bring him with us.”

“Keith,” Thace’s voice started.

“I’ve got this, Papa,” Keith said, throwing his lion forward to strike at Lance’s flank.

“...I know you do,” Thace replied. “You have thirty ticks. Get him and get to the castle before the wormhole opens. We will meet you in the hanger. Twenty-five ticks.”

“I only need ten,” Keith said, bringing the tail of the lion around and hitting Blue in the back of the neck.

“No,” Lance shouted, the eyes of his lion going dark as it hung in space.

Maneuvering his lion, Keith grabbed hold of the back of Blue’s neck and pushed the throttle to full power. Even with the added weight, he was able to out maneuver the remaining fighters, Pidge and Hunk on his flanks. Over their coms, Lance was screaming at them to stop and that they didn’t know what they were doing. Pidge and Hunk tried to calm him with their words but Keith remained silent as they came in sight of the castle.

“Pidge, Hunk,” Keith shouted over Lance. “Get those fighters away from the castle! We won’t be able to make the jump if we can’t get some distance.”

“Right,” the two said, speeding forward to engage the enemy.

“Fifteen ticks, Keith,” Thace said. Keith wondered if anyone else could hear the worry in his father’s voice as he aileron rolled past a fighter and darted inside the open doors waiting for his lion.

Red landed smoothly, almost without Keith’s assistance as if it was right at home inside the hanger. Over his com he heard Shiro telling the others to get inside the castle but couldn’t give it his attention. Blue was on the ground at Red’s feet and the Blades that had gone with his father were approaching from the doors. He ran out to intercept them, tossing his helmet away as he landed on the top of Blue’s head.

Bellow he saw the ramp lower and Lance step out with his weapon raised. Without taking a moment to think, Keith leaped from the head and landed on the other boy’s back. Both bayards went skittering down the ramp away from them as the two devolved into a wrestling match. Though Lance seemed rough and even uncoordinated to the Blades watching the two teens fight, Keith could tell the other had spent perhaps a life time wrestling bigger and stronger opponents but it was still no match from Keith’s specialized training under the watchful eyes of his parents and uncles. It took a dobosh but Keith managed to get the upperhand and pinned Lance down long enough for the Blades to restrain him.

“You’re making a mistake,” Lance shouted, still finding the energy to fight as he was dragged away by the rebel galra. “They’re lying! She lied about everything! Don’t be fooled!”

Keith sat on the ground under Blue and Red, breathing hard and a bit impressed by Lance’s stamina even as he was miffed by the entire encounter. He thought of Shiro and the damage the gladiator pits and druids had done to him. He thought about Pidge and the family she had lost at the hands of the Empire. He thought about his family and the members he never got to meet because of Zarkon. But mostly, he thought about Lance, a human boy who was dragged thousands of light years away from his home into a war he wasn’t ready for, and the lies he had been fed. 

Shiro approached him slowly and reached out with one hand that Keith took. “Come on,” he said, putting an arm around Keith’s shoulder once he was to his feet and leading him away. “We have a lot of work to do.”

---

Characters belong to Voltron Legendary Defenders

Ah the Papa Kitty AU. It has so much angst that I’ve barely touched yet hidden among the super fluff of Thace and Ulaz raising Keith! Such angst as Lance giving himself up to the Galra empire so the others could escape when they couldn’t get all the lions together because their weren’t enough people and being tricked into working for Zarkon by only being told his side of the story. You know the one where he was betrayed by Alfor and where his planet was destroyed by the people he believed to be his friends instead of the version where he went too power hungry with his wife and nearly destroyed the entire universe by letting in crazy shadow monsters from another dimension. Yeah that one!

I’m sorry that I’m writing pretty spurratically lately but I’ve been super busy this week and been super tired on top of that so it’s been hard to sit down to write. Yesterday and the day before I tried to write a cute little fic about all the teens being in the first grade together and Shiro being their teacher but never made it past the first paragraph. Hopefully I’ll be able to write that out soon but not sure when. My weekend is pretty busy with work, work, helping my fiance get my birthday party together (he’s sweet and wanted to try to throw it on his own but had no idea what he’s doing), having the birthday party and somewhere resting up to go back to work again but I’ll try to write a short something in between everything. If you want to help with that please send me little prompts that you’d like to see and I’ll write something short for them!

Side note, it was really fun rewriting Keith’s dialogue from the first scene with Red. I love it and it makes me laugh every time.

[mermaid20348209]

Character questions:

What is your full name? Benjamin Arthur Jacobs.

Do I have a pet or nickname? No. 

What do I like about my name? I like the warmth of it. I enjoy writing it down on paper; there’s a lovely combination of letters. 

What history does it have? I was named Benjamin after my grandfather. A military man whom my father respected highly and saw as his role model. I notice a lot of similarities between them. 

What is my age? 18. 

How does it relate to my spirit? I am relentlessly curious as young people are and have many questions related to life, most without answers. I am fearful and worried however, I lack security and feel uncertain about my future. I think too much for my age, mostly about my own existence; arguably I don’t have enough distractions for my age, I have too much time. 

How does it relate to my experience of life? I’ve served in the army which is normal for people of royalty. I deal with matters of importance on a daily basis and my opinion is valued highly. Considering I’m only eighteen, it’s strange how protected and restricted I am. I have access to luxury and money has always been readily available. I don’t have a job but feel responsible for the country, which I’m told relies on my authority. 

What is your placement in your family? I’m not noticed so much within my family. I’m loved but my mother  is awkward when expressing this, seeing it as something I should know and not mention. My father never tells me he loves me. I have a lot to learn being the future king, and so discipline and duty are what I focus on - these two qualities make my father proud of me. 

What is your present martial status? Single.

How does this affect or influence you? I’ve never had a girlfriend because of my identity as a prince; it’s hindered my social skills and I find it difficult to present myself naturally paranoid of tainting my families name. I’m indifferent to marriage, knowing that my mother will likely choose a wife for me. Hopefully she’ll be a good listener. 

What is your greatest responsibility? My duty to the army; as a soldier on the field, boosting morale and demonstrating patriotism. 

Where do I live? I live in Buckingham Palace. 

Do I consider it home? Why? I do consider the palace home. I have fond memories of playing in the garden and swimming in the lake. I used to have friends from nursery whom I grew up with and were often invited to the palace to keep me company. As I grew older however, my role as a prince took priority over fun and games. 

Do you enjoy social life? 

I find it tedious and predictable. There’s no satisfaction or emotional release anymore. I don’t gain any useful knowledge from the kinds of conversation people my age are used too; there’s no opinions or trivia that can lessen the burden of my heavy future.

What is my most comfortable social mix? I do find it peaceful to sit in the most favoured living room of the palace and listen to my mother and father chat; they use words I’ve not heard before, talk of situations in far away lands and how to solve them. They are proactive and make me as though I have a place among them, being a prince and all. 

What is your profession? I’m an officer in the army. 

How does it affect your social status? When I’m serving in the army, I’m just one of the guys. No one treats me any different. and that equality is extremely liberating. I get along with the guys I serve with, we’re both used to the anticipation the army places on you and so keeping alert naturally bonds people. I’m sometimes teased about being a prince, but I’d rather that than be taken seriously for every slight utterance. 

 How does it affect your mental health? I hate the contrast between the army and the palace. Fighting on the front lines, there’s never a dull moment. You have to be focused and adrenaline filled. I’m taken away from the safety and comfort I’ve been raised in and placed into situations where only primal instinct matters. This kind of simplicity is vanquished as soon as I’m home. I’m treated like a hero even though from my perspective it’s the friends that died, who sacrificed themselves who should be named so. I am back to pacing the garden grounds, eating expensive meals and having far too much time to think. 

How does it affect your physical being? I am athletic and fit thanks to the army. When I’m at home however it just feels unnatural to exercise. My mindset prioritises literature and the imagination over push-ups. 

What kind of education did I have? I was educated at Eden College. It’s a prestigious school with a high quality of learning. I was well provided for. 

Vocal qualities? I took fencing classes, and also I also developed a liking for climbing the school buildings - against the rules of course. I still do enjoy climbing around the palace at home. There’s a lot of secrets there that people would never find. 

Qualities of movement? I lead with my chest, confident and controlled. When I’m under stress however I tense up and start to press, like the effort action.

Humour? What kind? I’m quite witty but also childish and enthusiastic when I want to be, like when I play pretend with the mermaid. 

What is your laugh like? It’s warm and hearty. 

Energy and vitality? I’m energetic when the situation arises. If I want something, I’ll often raise my voice and gesture more freely, without care. 

Temperament? I’m used to getting what I want, although I don’t like feeling this way. If I can see an opportunity to intimidate someone, I’ll sometimes take it. I don’t have a temper however, patience is a great virtue. 

Intellectual thought process? My thought process is based off of the teachings my books have offered me. I question people and their actions morally, but I also ask myself whether I’d do the same thing - I hate being a hypocrite. I like to take control of conversations instead of listening. I have a slight fear of being controlled by people in conversation, just like I’m controlled in life. 

General efficiency? I’m efficient at most life skills; I can cook my own food, wash my own clothes, although rarely do people understand why I’d rather do these things myself. I don’t like being treated like I’m famous. I know I am but I want to be well equipped for life. “As if this life didn’t render one ill equipped for everything”.

State of health? I’m healthy physically, however I often get headaches from thinking and stressing too much. I also had Frostnip once from spending to much time in the lake and then returning to the warmth of the palace right after. 

How sexual, sensual? I don’t care for sex although I am curious about it. I’ve never had it. I also do not see why people waste time being sensual. It’s self indulgent. There’s bigger problems in the world and while I value love for the togetherness it brings, there’s so much romanticism to it that all ‘love’ really is these days is a commercial nightmare. People buy each other presents and talk on phones instead of sitting in the park completely vulnerable to the threat that is conversation. 

How sensitive/aware? I am aware of myself and others behaviour. I like to be as it keeps me in the moment. I like to observe anything of interest and unless I’m learning something, I often find it hard t ease my mind. I’m sensitive about my existence, often I cause myself misery late at night as I think of death and whether I’ll see anyone again when I die. I’m certainly not religious. 

State of confidence? I’m confident within the palace however, I don’t like going out too much plus it’s mostly a hassle getting permission to go beyond the square. I’m confident in from of those I know respect me, sometimes I’ll question why that is in my mind, halfway through a conversation. 

What physical impression do you give? I’m not imposing whatsoever, it’s my role as a prince which gives me prowess, and people are naturally weary of saying the wrong thing to me. I don’t like this and feel like I should lessen their worries so I’ll try and communicate in a casual way. My wit does sometimes get the better of me and in a horrible way I enjoy watching people squirm now and again.. 

Ambition - short, medium, long term? I want to learn as much as I can about the world before I’m forced into ruling a country. I want to be a great role model but first must become that role model. I want to be loved by all, feared by my enemies but I also want to be at peace deep down, I want to write books and live in an imaginary world where I’m not a prince. It’s difficult. 

Biggest fear? My biggest fear would be being responsible for another’s death. 

Belief in God? I don’t believe in God, even though I should do. My parents think that I do, but every time I pray for the well being of others, nothing has happened. I have rarely prayed for myself - I don’t deserve divine guidance. I’m already powerful and rich. 

What would I do if I inherited a fortune? I’d add it to the rest and ignore it. 

What would I do if I was £10,000 in debut? I would ask my parents to pay it off for me and make sure to never be in such a situation again. 

Worst thing you’ve ever done? I granted permission for children to be hung from a tree, simply because they asked us soldiers for sweets. I had been under huge pressure to show allegiance to the army and the children had broken a law. 

Best thing you’ve ever done? I saved up my pocket money over two years and ended up with £3000. I then donated it all to charity, the soldiers with PTSD foundation. 

Care over personal appearance? No, people care too much about that for me, I don’t have the effort to outmatch them. 

Are you vain? No, I hate vanity. I want to be equal. I had a dream once that I was homeless on the streets, but it wasn’t a nightmare. 

Which season best represents you? Autumn, for that is when the world slows down and encourages patience and thoughtfulness. We see death and deterioration in its splendour and unlike my mother, nature doesn’t seem to fear ageing; it’s appearance is shown off, not hidden under layers of makeup and insecurity. 

What would you compromise for the sake of an easy life? I’d risk it all, my life even. That’s why I enjoy the army. I relish simplicity. 

What would I do if I had the weekend to myself? I never have had that, but I suppose I’d take a train somewhere, in disguise, with a hoodie on. I’d go down o the beach and play on the arcades and swim in the sea - I’d watch children play and envy their freedom. I’d buy sweets and drink cheap coffee. I’d read in a park and savour the company of the general public, the ones I care for. 

Favourite topic of conversation, least favourite? Talking about existence, no matter what the view on it is, fascinates me. I see nothing as spiritually important as questioning our life on this earth. How did it come to be? Science or religion? Or maybe neither. From the topic of existence stems how we exist with each other, and from that thousands of countless discussions. I don’t have anyone to discuss these topics with unfortunately. My least favourite topic of conversation would be marriage. It’s just not important! I’m expected to be interested in woman I’ve never heard of, and when I am told about them, it’s not their personality my mother shows off but their family background and appearance. 

Would you like to be remembered after your death? Only if I’d done enough to deserve it. I’d want to feel satisfied with myself most of all, content. Whether I’m remembered for what I’ve done with myself or not, doesn’t matter, it’s what I’d have done to be remembered that matters. If it was something that saved thousands of lives, I’d be proud of myself. 

Most embarrassing circumstances to be found? Often I have to represent the king or queen when they are away. I meet different people of high esteem and I must put on a facade of politeness and courtesy. Then I have to engage in conversation with them when the majority of the time, I’ve not a clue what they’re yammering on about. 

Situations in life you find most boring/stimulating? I find small talk dull and irreverent. I also dislike so called important meetings that I find myself in, that I have to attend. The lack of passion people speak with disturbs me and makes me want to run away. The world needs passion. It needs imagination. I find being caught by the press quite exciting because it allows me the opportunity to give my opinion on a world or country issue. It gives me a voice. I don’t express my personal opinion however, just what I’ve been taught to say. But there’s the opportunity, and that’s what gives me the thrill. 

Secret dreams and desires? Sometimes I used to dream about being a cat. Cats just wander with no tension whatsoever, until its needed. They’re the opposite of me; I’m tense when I shouldn’t be, relaxed when I should be. I desire to be ‘normal’. But I don’t know what that is, I’ve never been exposed to such a word. It isn’t meant for me. The lifestyle of the general public, the lower class, it’s something I’d like to experience, get a taste of. However It’ll never be. 

Confidence in future experience/success? I’m confident that I’ll make a fine soldier if I am allowed to go back more often. I’m not confident that I’ll make a good ruler however. I don’t understand my own people. 

Happiness? I’m not happy. I’m never satisfied and always thinking about what’s right, what’s wrong. In short, I live physically secure but couldn’t be more the opposite mentally. 

What qualities/circumstances do I like/envy in my closest friend? There’s a man named William who I patrol with in the army. He doesn’t care about me being a prince. He’s the least judgemental person in the world. He doesn’t even care about good or evil! He pities out enemies and values them as brave - he thinks we’re just the same as them from their perspective. I don’t know how he manages to fire bullets at them with that attitude. He’s completely without hatred. I can’t say the same. I have to pretend that they’re inferior.