#it was also an instant dual-boot

[foxghost]

Back in 2009, Samsung sold these netbooks that shipped with win7 starter that could boot to something called "phoenix hyperspace". This is fascinating if you're a nerd.

[amywritesthings]

dating on airplane mode. | part one.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.9k Summary: So you're dating your neighbor who also happens to be a sex hotline dom named Levi Ackerman. Stranger things have happened, right?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), slow burn, eventual smut, sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, dual pov, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics submitted for @levievent 's #levimonth24 / day 22: neighbors

part two. | masterlist

“I'm seeing someone.”

Tea goes flying — metaphorically and physically.

When he confessed a new (and very unexpected) development in his (borderline nonexistent) dating life, Levi hadn’t anticipated Hange Zoe turning directly towards Erwin Smith to unleash a devastating spit-take attack to the face.

It’s a direct hit.

Erwin heroically takes the brunt of the damage, so at least his furniture is spared.

(Levi didn’t need to spend the rest of the afternoon scrubbing down the already scrubbed-down living room.)

Hange’s shout is shrill, the realization hitting them like a full-throttle freight train.

“You’re what?”

“He said he’s seeing someone,” Erwin answers in monotone before Levi can even try. 

The tall blonde extends a hand to leisurely grab the napkin cradling the bottom of his tea saucer. In true Erwin fashion, he doesn’t even blink at Hange’s dramatics — or their consequences unto him.

He raises the napkin to blot the side of his face sprinkled with a mixture of freshly-brewed lavender tea and Hange’s saliva.

(Then again, Hange could abruptly bang pots and pans in the middle of the night and Erwin would merely call it a minor inconvenience to his sleep routine.)

“No, no, I heard what he said,” Hange recovers with a crack to their voice, “but I can’t tell if he’s messing with us.”

“I’m not,” Levi flatly states.

“Okay, but how do we know?”

“Hange—”

Except it’s Erwin intercepting once more. “Because he would never pretend to have a significant other when one of his closest friends happens to be you.”

Hange squints, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose.

“Why? ‘Cause I joked that I’d stalk him the next time he finally found a date? That was one time, Erwin.”

Erwin rolls his neck to the right, offering Hange a pair of thick, disbelieving eyebrows.

“Technically speaking, Zoe, you threatened to stalk either of us if you caught even a sniff that we could be in the midst of a romantic pursuit. Plus, we’re well aware of the disguise kit collecting dust in the trunk of Moblit’s car.”

An instant shit-eating grin passes across their lips.

“Ha. Fair.”

If Levi’s eyeballs could roll any further into the back of his skull, they’d get stuck.

“However,” Erwin adds, those bold blue eyes flickering back towards Levi, “it doesn’t explain why we were in the dark until now. At the very least, we should hope you would feel safe enough to confide in us about someone you are serious about dating.”

Yeah. 

Out of his two friends sitting across from him, Levi figured Erwin would be the most suspicious of the surprise announcement.

Now that it’s been a few days since That Fateful Night, he doesn’t feel as self-conscious to confess his new reality.

It was as good of a time as any to rip the proverbial band-aid off.

(Besides, it was only a matter of mistakes before his friends learned the truth for themselves.)

Hange, Erwin, Moblit — they’re his only remaining connections tying him to this city. The others from his gym days have all found offers in other towns, returned to their old homes—

Moved on.

Meeting Erwin Smith in boot camp changed the trajectory of his life, for better or worse. 

Levi had known the man longer than he knew anyone else — but only by a few days and some change, considering he was destined (Hange’s words, not his) to meet the hyper scientist and their subdued partner, Moblit, in the army as well.

Then, as if attached to the hip, all four of them agreed to work at Erwin’s gym.

When that fell through, Erwin found the Scout Services Hotline.

.

.

— —

.

.

    The announcement came to him one summer evening with a printed job description and a six pack of beer.

Levi assumed Erwin’s confession on taking a sex hotline job had been one weird, shitty joke.

Picturing stoic, pragmatic Erwin Smith telling people how to fuck themselves in their bedrooms late at night for the almighty dollar felt obscene. 

Hell, it was obscene.

Levi didn’t want to consider his oldest friend in such a compromising position, but there it was laid before him without shame or fear of judgment.

Becoming a part-time sex worker for Erwin was as noncommittal as taking up a fleeting niche interest — like exotic bird watching or crocheting sweaters for fucking cats.

“At the gym, we improved upon people’s lives,” Erwin had told him while sipping his beer, staring out to the city sightline from Levi’s balcony. “Who has the authority to say this job isn’t doing something similar to those who may be lonely?”

“You would make yapping on a damn sex hotline prophetic,” Levi scoffed in return. “Selling some shitty porn script a dozen times a night sounds like the closest you could get to Hell.”

“I disagree,” Erwin argued without heat. “When I interviewed, they stated every employee is given the ability to do as they please. To show their strengths and make it their own.”

“Bullshit.”

“It isn’t.” 

Erwin rested the beer bottle on the knee of his trousers. 

“Flexible work hours give me the ability to find another place the gym can call home. The pay would certainly cover any initial costs after several years.”

“Several years?”

Levi frowned, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Erwin… c’mon. Just take a second to listen to yourself.”

“I’m only offering a chance for you to do the same. You may not be fond of people, Levi, but you’re loyal to a stubborn fault.”

Erwin gave him a sidelong glance.

“I know you won’t put in applications to go to any other gym.”

“Tch.”

A dismissive sound was all he could muster at the time.

He always hated how Erwin could open the cavity of his chest and put his damn bleeding heart on display.

“Who says I haven’t been window shopping to pass the damn unemployment time?”

“I wish you would,” Erwin replied with a heavy sigh. “Your skills are better when in use, not lying waste with the rest of us.”

“Hange and Moblit’re doing just fine.”

Hange, a self-proclaimed babbler, returned to Paradis University to make headway on some fascinating research projects side by side with Moblit. 

It was where they belonged, really.

“Fine, then lying waste with me.”

After a beat, Erwin slid his hand across the space between their chairs and held out a slip of paper.

"Look it over. Really sit down and think about what you did for our fighters and see where I’m coming from. You have a knack for leading. Of making people believe in themselves at their lowest."

He made it a point to stop. Stare.

Levi bit his tongue, meeting his friend's stern gaze.

"Conventional or not, you would still be helping people. Even if it’s a job for a month, at least you’ll be putting a hell of a lot of money in your pocket. It's better than waiting for my signal to move on.”

.

.

— —

.

.

    The bastard was always great at a rousing speech.

That night was the night Levi plugged in the damn website and read the job description.

By morning, he had submitted his application for a part-time hotline employee that included an .mp3 file auditioning his voice.

Erwin must have told his boss that he had a life-long friend possibly interested in the position, because by that night?

Levi Ackerman had a job.

A night turned into a month.

A month turned into six. 

Six to a year.

Suddenly denying begging, pleading people from their chased orgasms became as second nature as completing an Excel sheet.

Yet nothing else changed.

Levi still kept to himself.

Considering the friend group worked odd hours — Erwin with his own clientele, Moblit working towards his Masters, and Hange testing the scientific project of the week at the same university when unsupervised — it was easy to.

Wake up. Work out. Eat. Run errands. Clock in for work. Clock out. Eat. Sleep. 

Repeat.

Routine.

Hell, a lot of his life worked like a well-oiled machine until you showed up.

Now his world is slightly spinning off-axis, and he knows:

Without talking to his friends about his (uncharacteristically selfish and) impulsive decision, everything could very well go up in flames.

(Because when it comes to sticking matters of the heart and Levi Ackerman in one room, the former never walks out.)

After a pregnant pause in this three-way stand-off, Hange leans in, pressing both hands onto the tops of their thighs. 

“So when you say you’re seeing someone, you mean like… romantically?”

“As opposed to what?” Levi flatly asks.

“Well, seeing someone could mean anything, especially for you,” Hange reasons. Levi’s eyes narrow when Erwin gives that short huff of air through his nose like he’s stifling a laugh. “You could be seeing someone about finally fixing your dryer.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m just saying, romantically isn’t the first idea that comes to mind!”

“I have to agree with Zoe,” Erwin finally states, shifting his blue eyes to Levi’s. “You never mentioned that you had met someone in our group chat, and you haven’t made any changes in your schedule that suggest otherwise.”

Levi can’t help but scoff.

“Oh, so now you’re following Hange’s goddamn Google calendar?”

That fucking calendar.

The ‘we’re so busy but we can’t lose touch just because the gym went under’ calendar hastily made at two in the morning and sent with a declaration of war if no one accepted the invite.

All four of them did.

(Then again, Moblit didn’t have much of a choice.)

“I check on occasion,” is Erwin’s short rebuttal, before sitting up straighter. “But the former argument stands: you didn’t tell us that you were dabbling in the dating scene.”

“Wouldn’t really call it dabbling, Erwin,” Levi huffs, picking up his tea cup by clawing the rim of the ceramic. “Shit just kind of happened.”

“Uh-uh,” Hange interrupts. “We’re not playing coy right now, Levi. I want details: name, height—”

“Occupation,” Erwin agrees.

“Where they’re from.”

“If they have siblings.”

“Do they live near here?”

“If they’re allergic to cats.”

An involuntary grimace passes over Levi’s face.

“Ooh! We also need to know if they like tennis,” Hange adds excitedly. “Don’t trust someone who likes tennis, spectator or player. They’re always too put together with an underlying layer of batshit crazy.”

Erwin halts mid-sip of his tea. 

“...I like tennis.”

Hange���s thumb and middle finger sharply snap. “Exactly.”

Enough.

Levi hastily pushes his black fringe out of his eyes with his free hand. “I— No, Jesus, can we stop speculating about her?”

“Why?” Erwin challenges.

“Because I told you what you needed to know,” Levi challenges without tripping over his words. “And I’d prefer to keep the rest of myself.”

“Ah, her.”

When he turns his attention to Hange, there’s a wicked glimmer in their eye.

Well, fuck him.

Too much has already been said.

Hange whistles low. 

“So how recently was this fair maiden introduced into thy friend’s life?”

“Don’t start talking like a freak, Four Eyes,” he warns them while they suppress a cackle between pressed lips. “And — fuck, fine. If no one is going to let it go—”

“We aren’t.”'

Erwin interrupts, making it two against one.

With a set glare at his blonde friend, the smaller man sinks further into his chair and sighs with reluctant resolve. 

“I… met her a few days ago. It...”

Trailing off, he sets his tea cup down to rub at his temples with one hand.

This is going to bring on a headache. 

He really doesn’t need it on a work night.

“You’re both going to have an opinion on the how, and trust me, so do I.”

Hange’s face screws up in confusion, but he sees it out of the corner of his eye.

Erwin grows still. Contemplative.

Yeah, he knew this was going to go terribly.

“Huh?” Hange whips their ponytail back and forth to look between both men, smacking themself on the sides of their face. “Why wouldn’t we approve of how? Is it one of the old fighters?”

Levi scoffs, dropping to sit back in his chair. “I’d rather choke.”

“Then I’m not following. You don’t even talk to cashiers at the grocery store.”

“When did she call the hotline?” Erwin asks, cutting straight through the bush instead of beating around it.

His stare is almost indiscernible. Stern.

(Protective.)

The lightbulb clicks. Hange finally settles their attention on him. 

“Whoa — wait, she’s a…”

“Former client,” Levi confesses after Hange trails off. “Emphasis on the former part.”

The room grows silent.

Levi doesn’t have the capacity to see Hange’s true reaction, because he’s keeping eye contact with Erwin.

Their own telepathic argument bounces back and forth like that very proverbial tennis ball Hange had so teasingly laid down.

The ethics of it all;

The logistics of what it could mean for the future;

The gravity of this choice and knowing its weight is crushing him.

Erwin’s gaze softens a fraction.

Levi’s shoulders relax, if only a little.

“And how did that opportunity come to pass?” the taller blonde finally asks, but it isn’t as harsh as Levi anticipated. 

Hell, it’s curious.

Willing — to not judge; to hear him out.

“Accidentally stumbled into her at the bar down the street,” Levi confesses.

Stumbled is an understatement.

.

.

— —

.

.

    “So then — what does this mean?”

He doesn’t know.

God, he has no fucking clue.

Just like he had no fucking clue you’d be at this bar tonight; that you not only lived in the area, but in the same goddamn building just a few floors south.

You were meant to be a fluke thing.

A moment of weakness.

An anomaly he could solve like every other problem in his life, one he could reason to death and move on from once you realized that this hotline is a slippery slope to financial debt.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t meant to be real.

The calls, the laughter, the exchange of stories felt real, but that’s the selling point.

Imagining idealism.

He could send as many discounted invoices as he could to management to ease the cost of your calls, but there was only so much he could do from his position.

Still—

That being said, he wanted this.

For the first time in a long time, he wanted something.

Ever since Erwin’s gym went under and the staff were forced to find something else in the interim, Levi Ackerman turned off his emotions. His passion.

Money was tight. 

Bills were bills. 

But there are worse things to do than apply to a remote-working sex hotline with the promise of flexible hours, medical insurance, and the opportunity to get away from people for a while.

Maybe he hadn’t realized he was simply going through the motions of buying a morning tea at the coffee shop down the street. 

Maybe he hadn’t noticed that his drive to push himself to the brink of exhaustion at the gym all but disappeared.

Maybe he existed to simply exist.

Then you called.

Petra had pinged him to let him know that there was someone looking for a deep voice — not surprising — with a tendency to overtalk and overthink.

Easy.

Those types always cave the second you call them a pet name or sprinkle a little praise.

Yet you burst into his life like a damn firework to the face and he’s never recovered since.

Being nervous is a staple on these calls. He’s heard every justification in the book just as he’s witnessed people use the hotline like they’re robots.

You wanted to talk.

Petra doesn’t send people to him if they want to talk.

(Did she know, somehow, that he needed this?)

Conspiracies aside, the last two weeks became some of the best of his life.

Now you knew his face, and he knew yours.

And Christ, you were beautiful. 

Your voice was one thing — like a soothing balm to his insomnia — but your face nearly took him right the hell out.

Even in the mirror backsplash of the bar, he couldn’t stop staring. Didn’t want to, not when he finally saw what he wanted right in the palm of his hand.

So he was honest.

Honest about his life, his job, his black hole of an existence — maybe to scare you away so you’d choose better than a guy like him.

That he was the first to break the rules.

That he was sorry, because you weren’t looking for more baggage after a shit breakup with a shithead of a guy.

You didn’t care.

So he decided to rip a page out of his goddamn advice book:

Be selfish.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

Autopilot.

Everything is on autopilot when he picks up that damn pen and starts to scribble on a napkin, allowing his nervous system to suckerpunch his logic right out the damn window.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow—”

Bail.

Bail, bail, bail, before you make a damn fool of yourself, Levi Ackerman.

He doesn’t.

He straightens his spine, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand. 

The heat of it almost makes his stomach clench.

If he were bolder, then maybe he’d steal you away from your friends. Keep asking questions to make you talk more. Watch as your eyes light up about your favorite things—

He can’t. Won’t.

You’re with your friends. He’s already taken enough time away from them for you.

“—give me a call.”

Maybe he’s chickenshit for running, but at least there’s a part of him brave enough to leave him his personal cell number in the palm of your hand.

Before you can say anything, he drops some money on the counter to pay for both drinks and a tip and leaves to walk home.

To contemplate.

(Assuming you likely won’t call. He wouldn’t blame you.)

The night air leaves a sobering sting on his cheeks as he steps outside.

It’s considerably quieter than the cramped space of the bar, but cabs bustle in the street.

His pocket vibrates not once but twice.

(So not a text.)

Fishing his phone out, Levi squints at the ‘Unknown Caller’ ID staring up at him.

He swipes right to accept said call, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

His heart falls out of his ass.

Whipping back around to the tinted windows of the bar, Levi can’t help but look for that now-familiar face.

You’re blocked by an endless sea of conversations and bodies, but he still searches.

“My schedule just opened up,” you tell him from the other side of the line, your voice airy like you hold a secret. “I know it’s a little late for some coffee, but — are you free for some tea now?”

Shit.

Maybe he should be giving the headset for the hotline over to you.

“Depends,” Levi exhales. “Any shop worth a damn is closed at this hour.”

“Shit, you’re right.”

He liked it when you cursed. 

Hell, he liked it when you weren’t afraid to be yourself around him the most.

“There’s a pop-up shop about six floors above yours,” Levi reasons with a shrug he assumes you can’t see; autopilot, “if you don’t mind walking a neighbor home.”

.

.

— —

.

.

    “You said that?”

Hange, now at the brink of teetering off of their chair, gawks.

Levi blinks twice, realizing he’s given more of the story than he wanted to.

That they know it’s serious — dead fucking serious for him, actually — and that you’re his neighbor.

Yeah, he didn’t believe it either until you said yes.

“What?” Levi asks. “Something wrong?”

“No, that was just fucking smooth, dude,” Hange whistles low, impressed. “Pop-a-button-and-open-a-window kinda smooth. Holy shit.” They thumb towards Erwin. “You teach him to talk like that!?”

“Self-taught, I’m afraid,” Erwin hums. “Can’t take the credit.”

Hange flops back into their chair unceremoniously. “Jeeeez.”

“Six floors down, then?”

There’s a rare tint of pride in Erwin’s tone, like there’s a joke somewhere in that question he isn’t saying. 

Levi immediately narrows his eyes.

“Yeah. She’s been my fuckin’ neighbor all this time, if you can believe that.”

He sure as hell can’t. The fact that you’re six floors away — have been — has kept him up at night.

He could run down there right now and show you off to his friends.

He could leave you home-cooked meals if you’re running behind at your office job.

He could do a lot of things, but—

“Is she requesting you to end your time at Scout Services?” Erwin asks, interrupting his trailing thoughts.

Levi’s stormy eyes meet a contemplative, oceanic stare.

“...no.”

A beat passes.

Despite his trepidation, he explains himself.

“She’s not asking me to quit it. Says she gets it, a job’s a job, but I don’t know how true that’ll be in the long run.”

“And you believe her?”

He knows Erwin’s skepticism isn’t unfounded, but it sets a fire in his belly.

Questioning you, the newfound gravity keeping him grounded on planet earth.

(You're just a stranger to him, too, at the end of the day, but you don't feel like one. Not really.)

“I can’t expect anyone to stay neutral about what the fuck it is we do, Erwin," he reasons diplomatically. "I can say everything on my mind and put it on paper, but I’m sure the doubt will still creep in. Everything’s too new to tell. It won’t be easy, but it…”

He sighs, running his hand once more through his straight-and-narrow black hair. 

“I just need you two dumbasses to keep me in check. I can’t—”

Hange frowns, and he hates the sympathetic tone they take when they say his name. 

“Levi—”

“Four Eyes,” Levi interrupts stronger yet weaker in resolve, effectively shutting down their protest, “I can’t fuck this up. So don’t let me.”

The air grows thick, like winding vines corrupting the foundation of a tree.

Levi glances between the two of them, nostrils flaring with unspoken difficulty.

Erwin is the first to nod. Wordlessly, but he does.

Hange sighs with conclusion not a second after and nods, too.

“Am I at least allowed to ask one thing?” they chirp, holding out one slender finger to the sky. “Just one teeny, tiny thing — yes or no.”

A part of him really wants to say no.

A part of him really wants to say this conversation is over before he gives them anymore concrete information about you as he navigates these uncharted waters of being a not-so-normal boyfriend to a very-normal-ass person.

He fights.

Fails.

“...fine,” he grumbles. “The fuck’s the question?”

Hange perks up, all too smug.

“Did the pop-up shop six floors up line work?”

The memory blossoms in the back of his skull.

His body warms as if trapped under an electric blanket, heat setting cranked a little too high. 

Instinctively his eyes flicker to the front door of his apartment.

Like you’ll burst in at any moment with your work bags and stress and the hope that he’ll have the same soothing balm you’ve gifted him, hands at the ready to fix your problems for you.

He hasn’t wanted much.

He’s never wanted much, but—

Shit, if he doesn’t want to be good to you.

“...something like that.”

.

Author's Note:

AHHHH HI EVERYONE! WE'RE AT IT AGAIN WITH MODERN!LEVI SHENANIGANS! How are we feeling to be back?

I seriously cannot believe we're here. I've never done a sequel before, but the demand was overwhelming and I couldn't help but agree: we could do with learning what happens after the final call.

And we will, in this seven (maybe more?) part series. I had to actually break up part one because it got way too large of a chapter, so I promise we'll be picking up right where we left off in P4 -- like, quite literally That Fateful Night in part two.

[niuttuc]

New “budget” Commander cards: Lord of the Rings: Blue

You know these by now, we'll go color by color, mixing main set and commander set. Reprints can be included if they brought the price down under our bar. All the cards presented here are under $2 at time of writing. Cards will be evaluated as part of the 99, even legendary creatures.

Cantrips are neat, and always useful somewhere. Birthday escape giving you a bit of evasion for one mana will make it playable somewhere, and Borne Upon a Wind allowing to flash in not only sorceries or creatures but enchantments along with cantripping means it'll likely be a decent cantrip in a few decks. Nothing groundbreaking here however.

The one mana landcyclers this set are in general very good. A lot of their power comes from the fact they can fetch typed nonbasics, which these days is a huge upside even on a budget. This is a better, instant-speed Lay of the Land that in the late game turns into a bad harmonize, which is perfectly serviceable to refill a hand. Just make sure to include a couple typed duals in your deck, or if you have access to them, triomes, in your deck.

Not all decks will want Ioreth, but any deck that wants untappers will, she's a very good blocker to boot. The floor on her is ramp, as she can untap lands (double ramp if you got a bounceland laying around), and untapping two legends makes it easier than usual for an untapper to go infinite. Oh, and she doesn't have to target your own stuff, so you can make deals.

It's worse than a Castle Vantress because of all the conditions, but hey, every deck in commander should have a legendary creature on hand, and scrying never hurt anyone. With that said, I would only play this as one of my utility lands in mono-blue, the upside is just not big enough for me to play it in any deck with more colors (unless I'm specifically scry-themed, like Eligeth or Galadriel).

Usual spiel about loving sagas. This one doesn't do anything flashy, but for three mana, it does a lot of work, grabbing you a sol ring or a pair of boots for a couple turns, and drawing you at least a couple cards, while also toning down the aggression a bit. It'll be decent in any deck, though not very exciting in most, and sometimes the board will get wiped before the last chapter and you'll cry.

However, if you can manipulate counters to either keep it around forever (and keep stealing artifacts or drawing cards) and possibly also proliferate those stun counters repeatedly, it becomes pretty exciting, it's a very versatile saga to toy around with in those decks because it does a bit of everything and is pretty cheap to deploy.

And we close things off with Goldberry, who's... Alright, I mostly included her because I like this kind of design on legends, most decks won't want her, but for those decks built around counter shenanigans, she's a great enabler as a two-drop. Also the art is gorgeous!

[muizin]

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[digitaloshop]

Acer Aspire 5 15.6" FHD IPS Slim Laptop, Intel Core i3 (2023)

How to switch s mode to windows 11. On your PC running Windows 11 in S mode, open Settings > Update & Security > Activation.2. In the Switch to Windows 11 Home or Switch to Windows 11 Pro section, select Go to the Store. (If you also see an "Upgrade your edition of Windows" section, be careful not to click the "Go to the Store" link that appears there.)3. On the Switch out of S mode (or similar) page that appears in the Microsoft Store, select the Get button. After you see a confirmation message on the page, you'll be able to install apps from outside of the Microsoft Store. Specifications Processor Intel Core i3-1115G4 (Base 3 GHz, up to 4.1 GHz with Intel Turbo Boost Technology, 6 MB L3 cache, 2 cores) Operating System Windows 11 Home in S mode Display 15.6" Full HD (1920 x 1080) Widescreen LED-backlit IPS ComfyView Anti-glare Memory Upgraded to 20GB DDR4 Memory Storage Upgraded to 1TB PCI NVMe SSD Graphics Intel UHD Graphics Keyboard Non-Backlight Keyboard Front Camera 720p HD Webcam Audio Built-in 2 digital Microphones, Acer TrueHarmony, Compatible with Alexa Communication Intel Wireless Wi-Fi 6 AX201 802.11ax Interfaces/Ports · 1x USB-C 3.1 Gen 1 (up to 5 Gbps) · 2x USB-A 3.1 Gen 1 (one with Power-off Charging) · 1x USB-A 2.0 · 1x HDMI Port with HDCP Support · 1x Ethernet port Memory Card Reader No Optical Drive Type No Battery 3-cell, Up to 8.5 hours Battery life, 45 W Power Supply . Dimensions 14.31" x 9.39" x 0.70” Weight (Approximate) 3.64 lb Color Pure Silver Bundle with Ghost Manta 3 in 1 Accessories.

Acer 2023 Newest Aspire 5 15.6" FHD IPS Slim Laptop, Intel Core i3-1115G4(Up to 4.1GHz), 20GB RAM, 1TB NVMe SSD, WiFi 6, USB, RJ-45, Webcam, Amazon Alexa, Windows 11 S, w/GM Accessories

- 3 GHz base frequency, up to 4.1 GHz with Intel Turbo Boost Technology, The 11th gen dual-core laptop brings the perfect combination of features to make you unstoppable. This is an ideal home office laptop to get things done fast with high performance, instant responsiveness & best-in-class connectivity. - Original Seal is opened for upgrade ONLY. Substantial high-bandwidth RAM to smoothly run multiple applications & browser tabs all at once. Boot up in seconds, get to files faster, & have room for loads of files with the lightning-quick solid state drive. - Experience sharp details & crisp colors on the 15.6'' Full HD display with 82.58% screen-to-body, 16:9 aspect ratio & narrow bezels. Energy-efficient LED backlight. HD 720p front facing camera. - USB 3.2 Type-C, 2 USB 3.2 Gen 1 (1 Power-off Charging), USB 2.0, HDMI 2.0 with HDCP support, headphone, speaker, line-out jack, Ethernet (RJ-45), DC-in for AC adapter - You may switch win 11 S mode to the regular win 11: Update Microsoft App Store to the  version. Press ''Start button'' bottom left of the screen; Select ''Settings'' icon above ''power'' icon; Select Update & Security & Activation, then Go to Store; Select ''Get'' option under ''Switch out of S mode''; Hit Install. - System ram type: ddr4_sdram   Read the full article

[anantradingpvtltd]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] From the manufacturer Runs smooth. Looks sharp Power up: The latest 11th Generation Intel Core processors deliver incredible responsiveness and smooth, seamless multitasking. Enjoy the extra power of optional NVIDIA GeForce MX450 discrete graphics with up to 2GB GDDR6 graphics memory. Keeps its cool: A redesigned thermal system unleashes the power of your device while also preserving its thin design. Dual heat pipes move heat away from your CPU and GPU, more fan blades move more air and a drop-hinge allows air to circulate underneath your laptop. A does-it-all port: Available on configurations with an i5 processor, a Thunderbolt 4 port over USB Type-C supports DisplayPort and Power Delivery, meaning the one port can charge the laptop, connect to peripherals, and supply monitors with a display signal. Strength meets style: Crafted with aluminum on the top cover and palmrest, your device feels luxurious without sacrificing durability Upgraded design View content in style: Your laptop’s all-around narrow borders and compact size result in an expansive screen-to-body ratio and delightful viewing experience. Keep your privacy: Our all-new mechanical camera shutter protects against anyone invading your privacy or accidental embarrassments on video calls; so you can read, watch, or chat all day with peace of mind*. Nice and roomy: Enjoy plenty of space for navigation with a full-size pitch, keycaps that are 6.4% larger than the prior generation*, and a spacious touchpad. Just your type: 1.3mm key travel provides a satisfying typing experience while keeping your device slim and trim Recycled packaging The packaging tray for all Inspiron laptops are made from 100% recycled paper, while other packaging components* are comprised of up to 90% recycled materials. Real smart Ready to go: Your always-ready experience starts as soon as you open your device. Turn on, boot-up, and log-in quickly. A lid-open sensor gets the laptop started when opened, even if completely off or hibernating, and a fingerprint reader will verify identity quickly for login using Windows Hello. On call: Staying connected with up-to-date applications has never been easier thanks to Adaptive Connected Modern Standby. Now your device stays ready, even when asleep, so you can quickly access files and applications whenever needed for an instant-on experience. Fast charge:ExpressCharge minimizes the time you spend tethered to an outlet and will recharge your battery in a flash (up to 80% in 60 minutes*) Designed for the real world — because that's where life happens Turn up the heat: From locker rooms to locked cars, we test Inspiron laptops for survival in harsh short-term heat conditions of up to 65°C/149°F. Everything hinges

on it: We test Inspiron laptop hinges to ensure they still feel tight, even after opening and closing the lid 20,000 times. Keys to success: We test commonly used keys for 10 million keystrokes and touch pad buttons 1 million times with no failure. So go ahead, finish your novel. RAM & Storage: 16GB DDR4 (2 DIMM Slots) & 512GB SSD Graphics: NVIDIA GeForce MX450 2GB GDDR5 Software: Win 11 + Office H&S 2021 Display: 15.6" FHD WVA AG Narrow Border 250 nits & Backlit Keyboard + Fingerprint Reader Ports: HDMI 1.4b, (1) USB 3.2 Gen 2x2 Type-C (DP/PowerDelivery) – i3/i5, (2) USB 3.2 Gen 1 Type-A, SD card reader, (1) Headphone & Microphone Audio Jack WiFu & BT: Intel Wi-Fi 6 2x2 (Gig+) and Bluetooth 5.1 [ad_2]

[callsign-marlie]

Prologue. Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV. Part V. Part VI. Part VII. Part VIII. Part IX. Part X. Story Content Warning: Rate M for mature content (minors DNI!!!) including but not limited to: mentions of drug use/smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit sexual scenarios, angst that will make your head spin and more to add a/n: (undedited, as per usual because i'm a meSS) it's time for Misha's first day of TOPGUN. How will the others respond? I've been really inspired with this story lately and will be writing more at a faster pace. I'm really enjoying fleshing out my girl and soon to be her wingman. Hope you enjoy this section!<3 x marlie Table of Contents

Part IV: Resurrection

“Your instructor is also a TOPGUN graduate. He has real-world experience in every part of the mission you are expected to master. His achievements are legendary. He is widely regarded as one of the best pilots this program has ever produced. What he teaches you may be the difference between your life… and your death. Introducing Captain Pete Mitchell, call sign Maverick.”

Misha watched Maverick from behind a door as he strode down the aisle, head held high and proud during the admiral’s monologue. The wash of white that pinged off of Hangman and Coyote’s skin during his introduction, their hushed whispers and their exasperated hands running across their mouths made Misha question if the two had met her famed uncle in the past. A mop of curly brown hair on tall shoulders sat a little straighter, their shoulders slumped forward with their elbows on their knees. Their large hands were absentmindedly spinning a pen at warp speed. 

An anxiety response. He was nervous.

Bradley. Or rather now, Rooster.

“... yet I won’t be the only one who will be teaching you. I’m more of a hands-on teacher, you see. I was never really proficient in the bookish part of things. That’s where my partner comes in.”

Well, that was her queue.

Misha grabbed tightly at Moose’s leash, nerves electric to the neurons in her hands. Her newly polished boots scuffed against the linoleum floor of the hanger as she strode into the Miramar heat. Just look ahead, Misha, she encouraged herself. Don’t let them see you sweat. You’re Hotshot. You’re Hotshot. Moose glanced at her with every few feet of movement, ensuring that all attention was focused on his master as her personal shadow.

“They may be a familiar face to some of you. A dual certified weapons systems officer and driver, they have extensive studies of in-air combat, aeronautic and physical sciences as well as strategic and tactical prowess that has been unmatched in their time in the Navy. Although honorably discharged, they are still to be addressed by their title of Lieutenant during their service for this mission. Introducing Lieutenant Misha Kazansky, callsign Hotshot, and her service partner, Moose.”

She had reached the front of the pedestal before Mav had finished his speech. She did not look to either side of the aisle to gauge her friends', now students’, reactions. Her eyes rose up to the backdrop of the larger than life American flag in front of her, the weight of the symbol pressing on her chest. Of duty. Of freedom. Of her father. With a last deep breath, closed her eyes, and turned at the announcement of her name.

The reprisal was instant.

“Bullshit.”

Hangman.

His mouth was open, his signature toothpick deftly fell to his boots, the room so quiet the wood clicked against the floor. He looked more disheveled at her appearance than at Maverick’s. His eyes were widened in disbelief and his knees were half bent to stand. Coyote had a hand on his shoulder, forcing him down in his seat with a grimace. Phoenix held her emotions better, but they couldn’t stop a hand from slowly slipping to her lips. And Rooster… Rooster was standing completely straight, looking at a ghost of his long dead past, fully alive and standing.

Misha’s fingers leapt to her hearing aids the instant Jake opened his mouth. She knew he would have a rebuttal. She knew the instant she saw that he was assigned to this mission. The buzz of tinnitus flung through her brain as his mouth moved at warp speed. Words could not hurt you if they weren’t heard to begin with.

She let her eyes drift over the other stone stricken pilots. Payback and Fanboy were looking at each other in astonishment, whispering amongst themselves at the sight of the bartender, or rather lieutenant, before them. Payback’s forehead went to his fingers to wipe the sheen sweat away while Fanboy slumped back in his chair in realization, smacking his driver across the chest. 

Bob’s eyes were locked on her face, mouth slightly agape with his brows scrunched together looking over her extensive scars. He had this look of familiarity on his features; as if he had seen her before but couldn’t place it. After all, he was the only person within the active squad that didn’t get the chance to introduce themselves to her at the bar nights ago. It was only natural. Phoenix, sensing his confusion, put her lips to his ears in secret. His eyes widened further than Misha imagined they could have gone, staring between Phoenix and the lieutenant before him. She locked eyes with him, a challenge. That a problem with you? He looked away, a flush on his face, embarrassed at being caught by his “superior”. Bob was tame; Misha wouldn’t have to worry about him

But Hangman? Oh, Hangman was enraged. 

His eyebrows were viciously downturned during his rant, his teeth gritting, hands flying like wasps, yet she stood straight ahead at attention during the tantrum. Maverick had stepped in front of her after a few beats to ease separation from the onslaught of unheard words. Moose padded the dais with the front of his paws, clearly agitated at the aggression her former wingman was showing towards his master. She let a hand drop to the top of his head, mowing her fingers over his ears to comfort him. I’m ok. I can’t hear.

Maverick looked back at her for a moment, doing a double take at her staring straight ahead, gaze far away amongst the other pilots. He waved his hands in front of her eyes, motioning to his ears. She quickly averted her attention back to him, a sheepish smile overcoming herself.

“Sorry, my ears were off while Hangman was blowing his lid. What was that?” Totally angelic. Totally innocent.

Warlock chuckled next to her. She could nearly hear the roll of Cyclone’s eyes from behind her.

Hangman partially bowled Rooster over with the force of his chair tipping over. He stalked to the back of the hangar. Not even Coyote could hold him back any longer. 

“Let him go,” Pete stated coolly, unfazed, before turning back to the class to let them know they were going to be flying as soon as they left the hangar.

“Let him go.” Her hands were wrapped around the lapels of his flight suit, shaking his shoulders. Wake up. Her hands were hot and sticky, covered in dark red. Iron was in her nose. It was too loud, the thrum of the engine stuck in her ear. Hands, what felt like hundreds, grabbed at her shoulders to pull her away. The body slipped away from her grip, her garbled, gagged scream shattering from her throat as it sank beneath her to the dark.

What was his name? WHAT WAS HIS NAME? 

“Hotshot.”

Misha’s head whipped behind her to lock eyes with Lieutenant Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. She did her best to conceal the cold sweat at the nape of her neck. “Rooster. Long time no see.”

“It should have stayed that way, but I guess nepotism does rule all in the Navy, doesn’t it.” His eyes were steely as he dipped his chin to get a better look at her. He was sizing her up.

Misha scrunched her eyes towards him. “Believe me when I say I don’t want to be here nearly as much as you don’t want me here.”

“Then why show up?”

“You think I had a choice?”

Misha broke his gaze, a spark of heat coming alive in her chest. The panic to anger pipeline was dizzying. Her feet tingled in her boots. “I was ordered. There was no choice, Lieutenant. But my discomfort doesn’t mean I won’t do my job, though. Be assured of that.”

“You could leave. Just run away again.” His voice was venomous as he crossed into her vision. He was tanned, well groomed, but new stress wrinkles were born between his brows. There were a few more scratches than she remembered lining the front of his face. The ringing in her ears was overwhelming now. “You’ve been really good at that.”

“Why should I go? Maybe it’s your turn to run,” she retorted, her arms crossing against her chest. A shield. If she didn’t show restraint, she knew she’d be landing an uppercut straight to his stupid chin.

“But, then again, you’re so damn slow you’d get caught if you even tried. I have a feeling you’ll be too slow here, too. Too careful. Precise, but an easy target. These guys’ll eat you alive if you don’t take initiative and lead for once in your life.” 

It was a low blow, sure, but it certainly got her point across. Rooster wasn’t the only person with claws. Bradley’s jaw tightened against her words. She was right. He knew it. Misha noticed his fists balling beside his hip, knuckles white. A flush rose to the top of his ears. 

He stepped forward. Moose instantly jumped in front of his charge, hair raised and teeth flashing in warning. Rooster’s gaze broke as he backed off.

“Moosey, chhh,” Misha chastised loudly, flicking her right middle and index finger to the side. Stand down. He queued on command, his hackles still raised at the larger man, but sauntered to a seated position beside her leg. 

Rooster’s hard eyes were suddenly glazed, flattened to something far away. Disbelief? Shock? “Moosey? Like Músi? Music Man?”

The ringing in her ears suddenly disappeared and her world flipped. 

“...Who?”

For the first time in a long time, a sudden jolt of lightning split between her ears. A migraine formed like a storm behind her eyes.  She stuck the palm of her hand to her forehead, willing the accompanying, inevitable nausea away long enough to make it to a trash can. 

It was too much. Misha’s senses were completely overloaded. The anxiety, the flash of memory, the anger. “D-don’t know ‘em. Ah fuck, excuse me.”

Misha shoved past Rooster, speeding her way to the nearest restroom. He stared dumbly after her. He was the only one left in the hangar. The silence was oppressive, while he let his gaze tip up to the ceiling.

“Manny. You’d kill her, man. You’d absolutely kill her if you saw her now.”

—

Training did not go well.

Misha was busy in the control room with the ever-watchful Warlock, screening monitor after monitor and tracking each jet’s individual performance against Maverick’s. Knowing that Pete was the pinnacle of Naval Aviation, using him as a starting point would be in her best interest. They needed to make pilots as good, no, greater, than Pete “Maverick” Mitchell if they wanted this mission to be anywhere near successful.

Every single one of the aviators fell short. Not just by a few inches. No no, it might as well have been miles. 

Hotshot leaned back in her chair, her hands behind her head and let out a deep sigh. This was going to be harder than she thought. “Well? What do we have, Lieutenant,” Warlock questioned. Misha shook her head side to side, eyeing the man contemplatively. “How to put this couthly, sir: not good. Bottom line.”

Warlock let his hands rub his temples, a sigh leaving his lips. “We have some work to do, huh?”

“To put it lightly,” she murmured, spinning back to her monitor to show him the results of her evaluation. The top line, Maverick’s, was stacked in greens across the board. Every single jet beneath had glaring red on each of their numbers. Hangman had one small yellow box for his speed, but even so, his statistics were overwhelmingly lackluster.

“Based on everyone’s movements compared to Maverick’s, they’re all extremely shaky at best. They may have looked like they put up good fights in the air, but the numbers don’t lie: they might as well have been babies with finger paint trying to copy the Mona Lisa.” Misha stood to stretch, reaching her arms above her head. 

“The real work is going to be their cohesion. Listening to their comms was painful, Admiral. They don’t know anything about each other other than that they’re all the best of the best. But why they’re the best of the best is still unknown. ”

“So what are you suggesting, Kazansky? Kumbaya and a fire pit?”

“If that’s what it takes,” she chortled. “But truly? I think just introducing themselves to each other would do wonders. What are you good at? What can I rely on you for? Can I trust you?”

Warlock nodded in understanding. “Lieutenant, print these out for me and leave them on my desk. I’ll send them over to Cyclone and Maverick both for review.” He stood to leave through the command door, but stopped at the door frame, looking back over his shoulder. “And, good work today. Truly. Kazansky, I’m impressed with how natural it was for you to swing back into this role. I’m sure it wasn’t easy. Keep it up.” Warlock proceeded to glide out of the room with a magic that left Misha stunned.

He complimented her.

Maybe she wasn’t such a fuck up.

taglist: @alanadetigy @luckyladycreator2 @alldaysdreamers @blue-aconite

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Dark Shenanigans - Nandor x (f)reader

Summary: It’s Nadja’s something hundredth birthday, with that said, you’re on a mission to make it great.

Warning: fluff, general vampire nonsense

Masterlist

“Yeah being a half vampire half human does have its perks. I mean for one I can do all that cool vampire shit and I can go out in the sunlight...so that helps for when they’re all being really annoying.” You admit with a casual shrug to one of the documentary cameras before turning to an isle of party supplies. “So anyways we’re at this store.”

The camera shifts to the multiple arras of supplies and materials at the local supermarket in Staten Island that you and your vampire lover’s human familiar, Guillermo, currently are. Specifically on the hunt for birthday decorations for Nadja and ghost Nadja who’s possessed a strange looking doll for the time being.

Since the other four actual full vampires can’t shop for themselves at this time of day or really in general, you and Guillermo have been given such an honorable task in making Nadja’s birthday the best one yet. Considering she’s the most well balanced in the head out of the four of them and is the only other lady of the manor.

“Hey Y/N, how’s this look?” Wonders Guillermo as he holds up a bunch of Mardi Gras beads of yellows, purples, and greens. “Comments, questions, concerns?” He adds with a small smile.

Eyeing up the beads, your head shifts over to the other various colors, “Hrmm, G I’m feeling the vibe you’re going for this year and I like it, but let’s go with Nadja colors.”

Guillermo’s dark eyes light up at your positive suggestion, “Right! So the red and black ones then?”

“Yup. She’ll love that shit.” You state with a satisfied nod of approval, “Let’s get some black and gold confetti from over there and oh, those masquerade masks look cool as fuck.”

You pick up and test out various masks in the background as Guillermo adds some bits of dialogue for the documentary crew, “Um yeah she’s really cool isn’t she.” He says with a smile while glancing at you then back to the camera, “Which is kind of odd since Y/N’s been with Nandor since 1793 so you’d think she’d be a little more like them but no, she’s super chill and really nice.” Suddenly his face goes a bit serious as he leans in to whisper, “But she did kill a whole street gang once when they threw a slur at me so I wouldn’t mess with her. For your safety.”

The camera pans back over to an oblivious you who’s put on a masquerade mask and is swinging a plastic light saber around with a whole lot more accuracy and grace then would a normal person. The camera then pans back to Gullimero, “Um, I’m just gonna....make sure she doesn’t smack anyone.”

——

Arms full of groceries of food for you and Gullimero, as well as random party decorations for Nadja’s birthday tomorrow night, you use the bottom of your boot to skillfully open the door as the documentary crew and Guillermo follows suit. Guillermo now on the verge of falling over with the large heart shaped pillow in his arms that’s covering most of his body.

You don’t feel tired in the slightest due to your half vampiric abilities so this is nothing to you, “Alright.” You state, turning on your heel to face the crew and Guillermo, “They’re asleep so we gotta be extra sneaky now, I don’t want Nadja catching us with all this cool spooky birthday shit. Everyone to the attic!” You whisper yell before leading the charge to the attic.

They all follow as quietly and as quickly as they can and then soon enough in no time are you and Guillermo back outside in the sunny garden trying to figure out if you should blow up the giant sea monster pool floaty.

“I mean it would look cool as hell and no doubt out-do whatever the fuck boring thing Lazlo probably has planned.” You quip with a shrug while the two of you stare thoughtfully at the small gloomy dark pond. “He’s got no chance with us. I’ve won best decorator and card maker for two hundred years in a row.”

Guillermo side eyes you in honest amazement, “Wow that’s a lot of years. And cards.”

“I know. I was an artist in the 12th century but my no good terrible good for nothing piece of garbage trash sexist human husband, who I was forced to marry when I was only sixteen, took all the credit for my artwork in that era.” You confirm with a growl, “But it stings less because once I finally grew into my powers and strength at eighteen I simply made his untimely demise look like an accident.” You add with a smirk.

“Oh, wow.” Mutters the intrigued familiar.

“Precisely. The old fool was thrown off his horse because I told Philip, the horse, to throw him off. And he did. Which killed the idiot so I got the house and all of his money.”

“That’s......neat.” Mutters Guillermo as he shoots the camera crew from behind you and him a nervous look. “Uh the suns going down so I should probably help Nandor out of his coffin.”

Raising your head to the sky you immediately see how the sun has begun to paint the clouds in beautiful colors of oranges, reds, light pinks, and darkening purples. “Oh, how bout that. Yeah alright let’s get inside.” You nod to Guillermo before turning to walk towards the manor’s giant mahogany doors.

——

Turning the handle and walking a couple feet into the large main room that holds itself as a sort of crossroads for all the other various connecting hallways and staircases. You don’t make it even three more steps towards the left ascending staircase before you hear the highly recognizable voice of your one and only.

“Y/N! My lovely wife and favorite person still ever so lovely!” Announces Nandor loudly with a grand smile showing off his pearly white fangs, “How I have missed you and your morning kisses. Where have you been off to?” He wonders softly as you smile a big dumb love-struck grin right back up at him, you’d absolutely die to hear that accent one last time.

“I can’t tell you right now it’s a secret!” You whisper yell back, causing his thick dark brows to scrunch up in confusion.

“But I am your lovely strong puff dragon Y/N.” Whines Nandor adorably as you roll your eyes at the cameras before looking back up at him.

“Fine. Come here then.”

In an instant he’s at your side, excitedly awaiting what secretive news you will tell him, “Okay, so we know it’s Nadja’s birthday tomorrow right?”

“Yes. I remember because she hasn’t shut up about it.”

“Right. So me and Gullimero got some fun surprise birthday party decorations and they’re in the attic and we can’t tell Nadja.”

Nandor gives you a knowing look of affirmation as he leans in closer to you, his demeanor suddenly shifting into a more saddened one, “You went shopping without me?” He says quietly.

Leaning up to give him a quick peck on the cheek your hands instantly find his, “Just for a little while, but I still need to find more stuff so....you wanna come?”

Nandor’s big dark eyes light up with joy as you hand him a kind smile, “Yes! Let us go in search of unknown treasures for our lady friend Nadja so she will not be mad at us for terrible dull gifts of friendship.”

Laughing you give his hands a playful squeeze, “Come on I’ll race you to Party City!” You say before leading him past the camera crew and Guillermo who simply watches the two of you leave, glad to have an hour of peace.

“There’s a whole city for partying? Y/N why have we never been to this place?”

——

“Y/N there are no people partying here.” Whines your vampire lover in puzzlement as he follows you from the entrance to a side isle. “You said this was a city for partying.”

“That’s just the name of the store Nans.” You retort with a small chuckle as he looks from right to left at all the color coded party plates and napkins galore.

“Well the title is very misleading.”

“Agreed.”

Turning to the right you guide him towards the decretory pirate themed isle in search of something that will peak his interest. Also you wanted so badly to make it to this spot but Gullimero was a man on a mission so your intention was thwarted for when you had Nandor with you.

Speed walking down the pirate themed isle you quickly halt all movement as Nandor’s large body stops within less than an inch from your back. Smiling brightly you snatch the desired object in front of you and as swift as a cat turn to face him.

“Have you come for a dual my old enemy?” You speak slyly, eyes narrowed as you hold the foam sword right in front of his face. “I sense a nervousness about you. Tell me, are you ready to face your inevitable bloody end?”

Staring at the pointy foam, his dark puppy eyes shift over to you as an adorable fangy grin breaks out across his pale face, “Seems you have come prepared, oh radiant and alluring seductress. Well, so have I!” Shouts Nandor before grabbing two foam swords from off the rack and swinging them in both hands like a mad man.

Taking a cautious step back you hold your pathetic five dollar sword in both hands like a true warrior ready for battle, “Only one shall leave this place alive.” You affirm with a smirk, “And it’s not going to be you.”

“Arrrrrggg.” Bellows your lover as he charges you like the true conqueror that he once was. But all to soon do you swiftly duck under his arms and swat him over his stomach with a confident thwack sound.

He makes a puny little “oww” as you turn around to face him once again, “Y/N you hit me kind of hard.” He complains, looking rather defeated and genuinely hurt that you could have intentionally injured him on purpose.

Bringing the plastic weapon down to your side once again, your face suddenly softens as you walk over to him, “Come here you big baby.” You quip sincerely as he leans down so you can give his cheek a quick kiss.

Rising back to his full height, Nandor almost blushes as the corners of his eyes crinkle into a happy smile, “Actually it didn’t hurt at all I just wanted you to kiss me.” Reveals the vampire with a proud grin as you simply roll your eyes.

“Should have known.” You add before turning and snatching up four more plastic foam pirate swords for the others. “Alright let’s get outta here, follow me my love, to the checkout line we shall purchase our weapons of war and partying on the high seas.” You announce with gusto as Nandor stands proudly at your side, ready to follow you anywhere.

“Yes. To check out.”

——

Kicking open the unlocked door, Nandor bursts into the vampire residence with bags full of goodies for Nadja’s birthday party. You right behind him but less dramatically, “We’re back!” You shout to no one in particular as Colin Robinson suddenly appears from out of nowhere, looking ready to leave with his funny little hat and usual beige jacket.

“Oh hey guys,” He starts with a friendly nod, “I’m just heading out on the town tonight. I guess there’s a fair or something in the park and I wanted to test my skill at the ball toss. I’ve been reading up on the body mechanics and how the game is set up which seems pretty basic all in all. Also I really want to win a stuffed bear this time, it might add a little pizazz to my room. Welp see ya’round.” Adds Colin before walking past the two of you without another word and out into the night he goes with some of the camera crew following close behind.

Nandor turns to you with a look of annoyance, “Jeesh I thought he would never leave. Let’s go to your room I want to kiss you some more now.”

“Why my room?”

“Because since you are half vampire you get to sleep in a bed and because I am a full vampire I sleep in a coffin.” Inquires Nandor while looking at you with those big beautiful dark eyes of his, “And my coffin is too small for cuddles so your room will suffice.”

“Yeah that’s a fair point.” You shrug before following him to your room.

After many cuddles leading to other more rated R type activities that lasted until just about sunrise, you finally got some well needed rest while the sun shone high in the sky until she began her dramatic descend back into oblivion. Opening your eyes you slowly rise from out of your comfy bed, already missing the presence of your obsidian eyed lover.

He gets too nervous about your closed windows for fear that the sun might burn him which would be impossible because you black out the glass. But alas, he’s very cautious about these types of things and won’t risk it for anything, though he feels bad about leaving you in the morning, you understand.

Suddenly it dawns on you that today or perhaps tonight, is Nadja’s birthday and you completely forgot to set up any decorations. Shit, how stupid. Throwing the blankets off of you, your feet move quick as you speedily change yesterday’s outfit for something a bit nicer and more clean.

Racing out of your room and into the dimly lit manor hallway, you make a bee line for the attic but before you’re able to reach the steps, Guillermo runs into you, just about knocking you into a wall of various stolen ancient weapons. Sharp ones at that.

That was close.

“Y/N are you okay!” Worries the familiar as you quickly gather your bearings.

“Guillermo! The decorations! Nadja’s birthday!” You whisper yell as the human man simply smiles. “Why are you smiling, this situation does not call for smiles.”

“Don’t worry. While you were sleeping I set up all the decorations.” He replies with a shrug, “No problem.”

“What? But that must have taken you all day, you could have asked me for help. I would have come.” Your brows furrow as he shakes his head, though you still feel bad for not helping with anything.

“Well I did try, but um,” Gullimero awkwardly clears his throat, giving the camera a quick glance, “Nandor was with you and last time I asked for you while you and him where having alone time he threatened to carve out my eyeballs and force feed them to me.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance you take a deep breath, “Sounds like him. Very creative when he wants to be, alright, well....where’s everyone?”

“Oh, they’re not up yet. I was actually on my way to get you. I made blood popsicles and the pool floaty is all done and in the pond.” He says with a sense of pride for his decorating skills. “I think she’ll like what we’ve come up with this year.”

-

Standing in the living room with your three fellow immortals you search a dresser for her card, “Oh shit where’s my card? I could have sworn I had it yesterday on my dresser but I don’t remember seeing it there in the morning. Maybe it’s in this one?”

“Witches!” Hisses Nadja as you huff in frustration, where the hell did you put that damn card?

“Oh, Y/N my love,” Intervenes Nandor with a gentle tug of your sleeve, “I took it with me when I left your room before sunrise because I wanted to put my name on it too so she would know it’s from us.”

“What?” Replies Lazlo dramatically, “Now hold on just a damn minute, this card competition is individually scored so I won’t be having any of this nonsense. I worked really hard on mine this year.”

“Oh lick a donkey’s arse, look here,” You retort with, quickly holding up the card for Nadja, “there are two separate drawings on ours so either way if one of us wins she gets both our pictures. So you better hope your drawing doesn’t resemble a night clubs bathroom wall.”

“Yeah.” Mutters Nandor, who’s hiding behind you while resting both hands on either one of your shoulders as you glare at Lazlo.

“Fine.” Agrees Lazlo begrudgingly, “And mine will be amazing, this bitch of paper took me a whole six months to plan and produce. Can’t get quality this good anywhere else I guarantee it.” Adds Lazlo with a firm nod of self approval as you glance at the nearby camera.

“Right, okay everyone sit it’s time for presents. I want to know what you all got me.” Beams Nadja excitedly as she smiles a fangy grin in delight, plopping herself down in one of the arm chairs. Lazlo quickly finding the other one while you and Nandor seat yourself on the large couch. Colin and Guillermo finding somewhere to sit close by respectfully.

“Well, all I can say is hold onto your socks my dear cause this is going to blow you away.” Smirks Lazlo as he pulls a small box from out of his jacket pocket.

“If it’s a self made business card that says invitation to sexy town I will puke.” You deadpan while Nandor laughs from beside you, causing Lazlo to lose his smirk as Nadja hides her amusement the best she can manage.

“He he, sexy town, nice one Y/N.” Mutters Nandor with a proud grin as you raise a brow at Lazlo who’s giving you a hard glare.

“Oh, my dear pumpkin pie love, don’t listen to Y/N I will love anything you gift me.” Encourages Nadja with a bright welcoming smile, no doubt immediately boosting Lazlo’s once irked mood.

Rolling your eyes you shift a bit to find yourself leaning into Nandor’s body as Nadja opens up the rest of the vampire residents various gifts. A joyous fangy smile gracing her pale features every single time, revealing this birthday party was a thrilling success.

After much more fun that just about lasts throughout the whole night, and some rare but hilarious attempts at dancing between the five of you vampiric individuals. You’re feeling rather sleepy and you can tell Nandor is ready for a trip to dreamland as well.

Swaying to the lowly playing record instrumental, you hold Nandor tight while simultaneously enjoying the feeling of him so close, him doing just the same as he keeps you firmly pressed against his chest. His long dark hair tickles your face as he presses his head to your cheek, doing his absolute best to keep the flow without tripping up.

Sensing his growing fatigue, you gently squeeze his hand, “My love the sun will be up soon, let’s get you to bed, yes?”

A small lazy smile tugs at the corners of his lips while he looks down to meet your gaze, “But my dark angel I’m not tired. I want to dance with you a little longer.” He whines adorably before failing to conceal a big yawn.

Giggling, you lean back to slowly lead him towards the door, “That yawn says otherwise.”

“That wasn’t a yawn Y/N, I was just smiling really big.” He protests, though he still follows your lead to the door.

“I’ve never seen anyone smile like that.” You add with a raised brow.

“Well maybe that’s just how I smile.”

Letting out a breathy snort, you pull away from him to at last take his one hand, “Come. I can’t have a single ray of that dreaded sun to get a taste of your precious skin. Not on my watch.”

Glancing at the closed front door, Nandor squeezes your hand, “Well um, now since you’ve mentioned the sun...I think I’d like to go to my crypt now.” He says, the flash of worry crossing over his face for only a brief moment.

“You sure? I mean a sunrise is pretty beautiful if I’m being honest and I know you never get to see them...”

“Not funny Y/N. And not fair, you know I can’t because I am full vampire.”

“And you’re missing out.”

“And I’d like to stay alive Y/N.”

“Aren’t you dead?”

“Yes and I am your only husband so I need to stay not burnt to a crisp.”

Chuckling, you follow him down the hallway, “Oh really? Don’t want me finding myself with another vampiric lover? Some new beast to sweep me off my feet and take me away into the night.” You tease.

Side eyeing you, he frowns, “No. Don’t I sweep you off your feet?”

Stepping into his crypt you stop him with your hand against his bicep, “Always.” You whisper sincerely with a quick wink, causing him to break out into a big fangy grin.

“Good. And if anyone would try and whoo you I would make sure there would be no more whooing again!” Exclaims Nandor, making the candles rise in flame for only a short second at his rise in emotion for how much he loves you.

“I don’t doubt they would fall by your blade. Not for a second.”

[kinglarrykoopadx]

Ranking the bosses of Origami King

I have stated many many MANY times that Origami King is my favorite Paper Mario, hell, one of my favorite games of all time. And if some lunatic waltzes into my house and gives me a choice of either liking TTYD or die, I’d rather be dead. But what’s the worst and best boss in the game? Today, we’re gonna rank all the bosses in Origami King. Also, it is recommended that you finish the game to view this post, cause this is a spoiler zone.

17. The Shifty Sticker, Tape

The most annoying and unfun boss to cap off a great tribute to Wind Waker fans, all the positives Tape got was having a bopping as hell music and a really great 1st phase. But that’s where the positives end, cause the 2nd phase is where it all goes downhill. Tape glues parts of the ring meaning you can’t slide panels and some parts of the rings are connected together. And when a lot of tapes are in the ring at once, it’s pretty annoying. And this may just be me, but when there’s too much tape in the arena, Tape straight up gobbles up the tape in the arena to restore HP and it is annoying as fudge. Oh and did I mention that to damage this boss, you’re forced to use the 1000 fold arms? And did I mention that any other form of offense is next to useless? Needless to say, this is one of the worst bosses I’ve had the pain to endure.

16. The Freezing Finisher, Ice Vellumental

The first phase of Snowy The Bear over here is surrounded by an icy forcefield and you must use the Fire Vellumental to melt down his barrier which is, pretty alright for a first phase (I mean your sliding is not locked this time so that’s a plus), but then, there’s Ice Maze to make up for all that fun. For those of you unknowing fools out there, Ice Maze is an ability of this guy where large parts of the arena are covered in ice, and the only way to get through it is find a way to the Action Panel or an active Fire Vellumental Magic Circle without being frozen so you (kinda) won’t have to endure his greatest attack, Ice Age. Problem is, that even for me, who has a strong memory, I can’t seem to solve it. Why this is less dreaded than Tape for me despite the monotony is that you can kinda cheese it without Fire Vellumental. By collecting coins, you can stock on Shiny Fire Flowers and basically fireball this boss to death (and they said coins are useless). Even so fuck this fight man.

15. The Blazing Bird, Fire Vellumental

This phoenix right here is possibly the smartest of the Vellumentals. Why is that, you ask? Easy. He lets you damage yourself. Using his special move, Hot Wings, he basically spreads his own wings (which takes a chunk of his health) and lets you damage yourself until you reach an Action Panel. Once you’re in the Action Panel, use your Iron Boots and jump the shit outta him until his feathers are all/almost gone. Then, use Water Vellumental to shower it to its doom, and lastly, for the coup de grace, pull off his hair and humiliate him in front of a bunch of Toads. The only reason this chicken wing is higher is because jumping him with Iron Boots is as fun, if not more fun than using the Fireballs to cheese the Ice Vellumental.

14. The Apocalyptic Abomination, Paper Mistake Buzzy Beetle

By far the most gruesome thing in Paper Mario franchise, it starts off with you hammering the Dry Bone heads it spews out using Kamek’s magic. Then, after enough heads were smashed, Kamek reveals himself and you have to pull him outta the beetle’s nose which is more satisfying than it should be. And then after that, you smash him in the gut 4 times to win. Needless to say, it had its moments.

13. The Elastic Entertainer, Rubber Band

4 numbers later and we are back to the Legion Of Stationary. This time, it’s Rubber Band. While I can see why people like this boss, keep in mind I’m doing all these on a no Game Over run, which makes the boss less fun for me. The Bumper Bands are a mere nuisance, but get caught in Rubber Bind and kiss your health goodbye. Solo Snapback isn’t much better either, for that attack, pray you have a 1 Up left or at the very least can endure that attack or say goodbye to your health. However, despite doing this on a no Game Over run is hell, why is it this high though? you may ask, well, simply put, the Rubber Bands are better projectiles than the Hot Wings, Icicles, and Tape combined.

12. The Chaotic Cactus, Mega Paper Macho Pokey

Tower Power Pokey is back, but this time, he’s made some changes to the battlefield. Now, instead of fighting in some egyptian temple, you fight him inside of a tornado. This segmented spiky monstrosity has 3 attacks. Creating tornadoes, stalking you from underground, and trying to squash you with its body. This time, to defeat him, instead of using some Baseball Bat sticker bullshit, you must wait until his glow fades and approach him with the Boot Car so you can deliver the smackdown. And, pro tip : if I were you, I wouldn’t get caught in the twisters.

11. The Groundshaking Gut-Slammer, Earth Vellumental

God to all Koopas, the Earth Vellumental is pretty fun for a tutorial boss. You use your hammers to smash its limbs till eventually you hit its tender tail, and it’s more fun than it had any right to be. Once the tail is pounded to perfection, flip it with your 1000 fold arms and smack the living daylights out of it.

10. The Trial Of Toughness, Scuffle Island Boss Rush

An optional boss accessible in Chapter 4, the Scuffle Island Boss Rush is fun for a miniboss rush. You get 7 tough Paper Macho opponents ; Goomba, Shy Guy, Koopa, Boo, Paratroopa, Stone Spike, and Buzzy Beetle, each bearing 2 more hitpoints than the ordinary Paper Macho enemies and having a large attack boost. It’s a test of learning the patterns of the Paper Machos and is way more fun than it has any right to be. Although the Paratroopa did gave me some troubles, like, seriously, if you beat this guy’s 1st phase without a guide, you’re a pro.

9. The Stormy Guardian, Boss Sumo Bro

A clever reference to NSMBU and Super Mario World, Boss Sumo Bro stands on his mighty thundercloud at first, until you take out his goonies. Then, once you’re done with his goons, he’ll charge up his unblockable Mega Thunder attack and to stop it, you must use the Fire Vellumental to take him down. It’s admittedly pretty fun.

8. The Missile Maestro, Colored Pencils

One of the most fun tutorial bosses, Colored Pencils has a simple but really fun 1st phase. You have to close its lid to pull off a Fire Vellumental, and on the 2nd phase, it gets better. You have to use his Rainbow Roll against him and smack the living daylights out of him. It’s a great boss, buut problem is, it’s a tutorial boss. It had not much of a chance to make it to the top 5. 

7. The Final Destination, Paper Plane Strike Force

This game consists of you shooting a bunch of Bob Ombs to pave the way to the final level of the game Origami Castle, which is, much sadder than it may seem. It’s fun as heck shooting down the paper planes, and the Squadron where you have to shoot like a million Bob Ombs to its face is by far personally the most fun part of the game. Why it’s this low is that it’s one of the 2 non-rematchable bosses. Once you’ve gotten to Origami Castle, this minigame won’t be accessible anymore.

6. The Submarine Sinker, Water Vellumental

This overhydrated water dragon is one of the more strategic bosses. You must take note of the water twisters and prevent them from getting in your way of making it to the Action panel to jump him and hit him with the hammer. And then, once he’s gonna blow, make your way to the Earth Vellumental Magic Circle to dodge his Mega Wave attack, which is pretty powerful. It’s personally one of the more fun bosses this game had to offer. It’s not in the top 5 since the water twisters can be pretty annoying though I never had a problem with them personally.

5. The Disco Devil, Hole Punch

The groovy lobotomiser’s 1st phase is pretty annoying, you have to find his tender spot to deal decent damage to him, while having a reduction in health,  but slamming the ever loving shit outta him when he tried to pull off his special attack is fun as hell. It makes up for the horrid 1st phase. And pulling off the rubber case as the finisher is waaayyy more fun than it needs to be. Also the music is a freaking jam.

4. The Tentacley Terror, Paper Macho Gooper Blooper

This Mario Sunshine nostalgia fest is hella fun. The 1st phase has you hammering his tentacles which is way more fun than it should be, and the 2nd phase has you hammering his eye, which is, again, way more fun than it should be. This boss is just really, REALLY fun.

3. The Dual Bladed Duelist, Scissors

One of the harder and more intense bosses, Scissors’ first phase is putting on a case for his blades for the sake of a fair fight, but once that’s done, it’s all intense, bloodpumping action from here. Scissors will use his unblockable special attack, Final Cut, and you must time your jumps to prevent an instant KO. I felt a strong urge of satisfaction when jumping over Scissors’ special attack countless times, it’s not even a laughing matter.

2. The Roshamboa, Handaconda

The first phase has you hammering him to get Olivia out of its grasp, and then, the 2nd phase is where the true fun begins. The Magic Circles are swapped with panels with images of Rock, Paper and Scissors and you must observe his hand patterns to get a chance to rush attack him with the 1000 fold arms. It feels so satisfying when you beat him in Roshambo and smash the living daylights out of him.

1. The Royal Rebel, King Olly

One of the best final bosses of all time, Olly is a culmination of what you have learned throughout your journey. The 1st phase consist of you retracing the weaknesses of the Vellumentals and using it against them, the 2nd phase consists of you slamming the ground to give Origami Bowser a helping hand in dealing the semi finishing blow towards Duraludon Olly, and the final phase has you fixing a jumbled up Giant Magic Circle while Olly bombards you with attacks that lead to quicktime events that are way more fun and dramatic than they had any right to be. Needless to say, Olly is the best boss in the Origami King.

[accidentalharrie]

Harry Styles: A Crush for the Zeitgeist

At Harry Styles’s “SOLD OUT ONE NIGHT ONLY” celebration in Los Angeles for his new album, Fine Line, a black Lab puppy with a big soft face and chubby paws is the official security dog. As I wait in line and stare at him, he’s staring at his chaperone, pure love in his eyes. The puppy’s training kicks in when the well-manicured probable model ahead of me drops a bag of gourmet cupcakes. The puppy tries to run toward the cupcakes and is eventually taken on a walk to cool off. He could be a mascot here. The demographic of the Harry Styles’s tour kickoff is urgent, excitable sweet tooth.

At the Forum, approximately 17,000 chirpy fans, mostly femme and seemingly circa Styles’s age (25), prance into the stadium with birthday-girl energy and new shirts. The shirt with an impressive plurality here is sold at the merch table outside. (“Where are your regular shirts?” I ask two friends who’ve been on tour with Harry and they laugh and tell me, “In a bag under our seat.” Obviously.) Fifteen minutes before his set time, the merch booths have been picked almost clean. Another probable model is wearing eight gold rings across her fingers that spell F I N E L I N E like brass knuckles.

Instead of wearing Styles concert T-shirts, some of his fans are just dressed like him. If you were wondering where all the bright, high-waisted trousers disappeared to on Friday night, they were with me at the Forum. Like the most consuming of crushes, there is a dual impulse to both be and be with. I count at least five imitations of his Gucci huge-leg sailor-pants look from his album cover. A leopard suit from his last tour; the “Sex” shirt he wore on SNL. For the life of me I can’t keep a Styles song in my head, but the outfits are emblazoned on my cortex. I was at that SNL taping actually, a fact I forgot until I wrote that down. I am a receptive sieve when it comes to this handsome scamp.

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To decode Harry Styles to my date (their cultural interests run more to Björk, 1997–2004, plus 2015), I tell them Styles describes Fine Line as “all about having sex and feeling sad.” My date looks at sea for a second and then asks: “At the same time?”

I can’t wait to know the answer. I’ve heard that Fine Line is testing: Can Styles make soulful and patient ’70s psych-rock and still make fan hearts’ skip a beat in 2019? Styles’s fans have flocked tightly around him since his days in confection-pop band One Direction and they stuck close through his eponymous first solo album two years ago: a moody work in the genre of “nonthreatening bad boy.” This year, things got freakier. In a Rolling Stone profile, he told a story about biting his tongue while recording and high on mushrooms, so blood came out of his mouth as he sang. Intense, animal, and daring. In honor of Styles’s new artistic voyage, my date and I split a mushroom.

The lights shoot up, Styles emerges onto the stage, and there’s a collective intake of breath. Actually, the person next to me gasp-shouts “HIS CHEST!” the millisecond before the screams avalanche.

Styles frisks around the stage singing about sex and candy, “Watermelon Sugar,” and a mandate of radical softness and euphoria. He moves like a tickle: intended to make you feel giddy and impulsive. And it’s felt. Being inside the stadium is like being inside the radiating pink heat of a crush feeling. There’s no hesitancy. Fans have come from Brazil and North Carolina. I meet a coven of teens sneaking vodka out of a water bottle in the bathroom, and they tell me they saw him in 2013 with One Direction: “It’s full circle.” Someone at the front of the pit keeps hoisting flowers up toward Styles, little white, sad carnations. The devotion here is as uncomplicated as I have ever seen devotion. I envy that. The Forum, the entire venue, changes its Instagram bio to “Harry Styles stan account [multiple stars emoji]” in an instant.

The metabolism is also immeasurably fast. As my date put it: “Everyone knows everything in here.” His fans know every song in their bones, from an album that was released that day. They shout the words to prove it. On Instagram, I saw a clip of a fan outside saying she hadn’t listened yet [AUDIBLE GASPS], and then she explains this will be a special opportunity to hear the album for the first time live [DIFFERENT GASPS, ADMIRING GASPS]. It’s a sentimentalist’s scene.

People scream the whole time, in addition to bobbling on command and filming. Until Styles, I tacitly agreed that it was a confusing irony that fans screamed over music they wanted to hear. I realize now that he’s made music to scream over. This is a universe of their mutual creation, the soundtrack is just the mood cue.

It can be alienating: This is the music that launched a million zillion hearts? But I realize that a crush should not be judged on talent. And Styles is a perfect crush. Slinking around in the drama of big pants and a Mick Jagger femme blouse. He looks like a rascal androgyne, he acts like a romantic, he’s all chin scruff and nonthreatening sex appeal.

Because of the pants, he dances in a way that Katharine Hepburn might. There’s a feline backward skip that seems to accentuate the knee caps. And other times, in louche-adjacent but ultimately weightless seduction, it seems as if there are string held to the stop of his hip bones. I was thrilled when I read an interview with one of Styles’s favored designers, Harris Reed, who said some clothes were specifically flared so Styles could “dance and do his pelvic thrusting, which he loves to do.” The creature is a perfect crush.

There’s a photo opportunity to stand in Styles’s place: a dark-green screen that will become the Tim Walker–photographed Fine Line album cover (floating hand included). People try to imitate Styles’s stance, but it’s surprisingly tough. I think most people don’t put their hips forward enough. No one quite achieves the lightness of the hand on his waist. And the casual point is rendered as finger gun. Styles is a master craftsman of the fluid choreography.

Can you forgive me for waiting until now to tell you that Stevie Nicks descended onto the stage like an archangel? They Landslid together. (Brief history: Harry Styles paid official tribute to Nicks at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Ceremony by saying, “She’s always there for you. She knows what you need: advice, a little wisdom, a blouse, a shawl”; Nicks mistakenly referred to Styles’s former band as “’N Sync.”) Nicks — dusky voice even duskier, in high beige boots — sways in front of a mic stand with a thousand sparkling scarves on it. Styles approaches his half of the duet with clarity and practice and he does a worshipful dance at her. This whole place is a devotional practice. I remember that I’m on mushrooms and feel religious about it. When they sing, “I’ve been afraid of changing because I’ve built my life around you,” I think about Styles and the fans and their adoring fealty.

So the night’s heating up. Glitter drops from the ceiling (metaphorically “snow” as Styles is singing “Wonderful Christmas Time”). This is nice. Styles says, “The album is yours; I am yours,” so I think it’s a Christmas present. I should write a thank-you note.

The Fine Line’s tour comes with a take-home message: “Treat People With Kindness,” which is incidentally the name of a bombastic choral-influenced song on Fine Line. It’s inscribed on shirts and on handwritten signs, helpfully summarized as “TPWK,” which is incidentally the sound of someone being punched in the stomach.

With three minutes left of the night, Styles launches into “Kiwi,” a song from his first solo album that’s famous for making big floors shake. Before the song breaks, I see a pack of girls in sneakers and skirts and jumpsuits carefully clear a wide circle in the pit and then hurtle into it. Will they be able to thrash with kindness and consideration? Of course, they’ve been studying Fine Line and how to walk it. And when Styles asks them, “Will you dance with me like you’ve never danced before?” I’ve never seen such obedience.

[sadjediamira]

A Battle of Two

Holding Out for a Hero Pt. 5/?

Amira and Cal battle each other, while Amira faces the truth of the meanings behind her dreams.

Read Ch.’s 1, 2, 3, & 4. Also on AO3! “An abandoned Republic base...really Cal…?” Amira calls out, her voice echoing back in the massive space. 

Dusty crates littered the floor, and the ceiling beams hid in the dark rocks above her. She slowly stalked toward the massive blast doors, waiting. 

The Inquisitor removes her face mask, tossing it to the ground next to her. Her braid falls out of her hood as she lowers it. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Amira taunts, a grin pulling at her painted lips. 

At a faint noise above, she spins on her heel, pulling her saber from her belt. 

“Aw. Come on, Cal. I didn’t fly all the way here for you to tease me! I know you're here.” She could feel his presence, as if it was surrounding her. 

All the lights suddenly go out, leaving her in pitch blackness. The area around her is bathed in red when she turns on her lightsaber. 

“I would have words with you, Jedi.” The Inquisitor begins quietly, knowing her voice would carry. “Do you practice mind manipulation, Cal? Can you affect the dreams of others?” 

A pair of boots land on the ground behind her, she turns slowly. 

“And what makes you think I can do that, Amira?” Cal asks curiously, his saber bathing him in blue when he activates it. 

It felt strange, battling him again, ever since they’re last meeting. They were normal people then, back in the market, now they were enemies. 

“I’ve had strange dreams.” She began as the two of them began moving in a sort of circle, waiting for the other to strike. 

Cal chuckles, “Have you been dreaming about me, Inquisitor?”

“Don’t patronize me!” Amira threatens, raising her saber to eye level. “I just want you out of my head.” She mutters. 

“Well I have some bad news for you…” Cal performs a flourish with his saber, smile still very evident on his face, “I cannot manipulate the mind or dreams. Though I’ve always excelled with the force, I’ve never been that good.” 

Did he just wink?

“I guess I’ll just have to get rid of you right here, then.” Amira shrugs. 

He grinned, “Let’s get to it.” 

Amira closes her eyes briefly, gathering the force. She raises her arm and slams it towards the ground, violently pushing crates and debris away from her in all directions. The floor surrounding her was destroyed,  but Cal dodged easily. 

She charges, he blocks a few hits before delivering his own. He was powerful, but the Inquisitor had improved since they last fought.

He attempts to freeze her but she blocks with a powerful push just in time, sending the Jedi flying. 

She dashed forward but he blocks just as he flips up onto his feet. 

Plasma and sparks fly as their weapons meet, “What did you need in this old base, Cal?” Amira asks, breath heavy. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He retorts before shoving her back and quickly evading her. 

Amira turns on her heel, “What are the rebels after, Cal? I know you’ve been assisting them…” the two begin circling each other again, “They won’t win, you know. You can’t destroy the Empire!”

“Oh, I know I can’t. But I don’t need to destroy the Empire.” Cal says easily, jerking his saber once as he activates his dual blade. “I just need to cause a bit of chaos...a little...confusion.” His smirk was directed at her.

Amira pulls her saber in front of her, activating her own dual blade with a spin. 

They lunge simultaneously. Hit, hit, hit, block, hit. Amira enjoyed this challenge. She could let go, lose control a little. 

Apparently so could Cal. They both became lost in the fight, becoming almost hypnotized by the flashing of blue and red, the push and pull of the force all around them. 

They danced across the warehouse, trying to distract each other with nearby boxes and chairs. Each object being obliterated with the force. 

Amira notices Cal’s fighting shift, he was losing speed and resorting to powerful hits. Amira never faltered, using her smaller stature against him, ducking and jumping, draining his energy. 

“You’re getting sloppy, Cal.” She notes loudly between swings. “You can’t do anything if your dead.”

Amira smirks as she jumps, using his back as an anchor to flip over him. The Inquisitor’s saber was inches from the back of his neck within seconds. 

Cal stiffened, his shoulders moving with each heavy breath. “I have already finished what I set out to do, Inquisitor.”

In an instant Amira was frozen, Cal had escaped her reach and turned to face her. She broke free, but just in time to quickly duck out of the way as he split his saber into two, forcing her to land on the ground with a loud huff. 

The Inquisitor was stunned at his skill, she’d never heard of a dual wielding Jedi.

“Why do you think you’re dreaming of me, Amira?” Cal breathed, sabers ready for any resistance. 

The ground around them vibrated with her anger, “Get out of my head!”

“I didn’t put myself in your head!” Cal began, his voice raised. “The reason you can’t get me out of your head is because you don’t want me out of your head!” 

Amira growls and lunges, force pushing the Jedi backwards as she easily finds her footing. 

 Her saber would’ve pierced his chest had it not been for the lights coming back on and the rumble of a ship quickly approaching above the massive rock ceiling. 

Cal’s small droid comes speeding across the floor from a vent in the wall, beeping loudly. The droid placed himself on his master's shoulder as the Jedi slowly stood. His sabers still ready for an attack. 

Amira glared at him, still turning over his words in her head. 

Their eyes met, “You deserve so much more, Amira.” Cal says slowly, making sure he had her attention. “You’ve been through awful, terrible things. I want to help you heal.” His voice was nothing but sincere. 

After a moment he slowly reattached his sabers and held out a hand to her. 

“Don’t…” she whispered. 

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He switched off his lightsaber. 

Amira felt a familiar sting in her eyes. 

So much for showing him my strength, she thought sarcastically to herself.

“You don’t know my past...” The Inquisitor spoke but her voice broke. “And If I...if I f-fail again…”

Her fate would be the same as Trilla’s. 

She lowered her lightsaber some, briefly giving in to the peace that was enveloping her, no doubt Cal’s aura. 

The Jedi stepped closer to her, hand still outstretched. Amira looked at his hand but stepped back, leaving the cloud of comfort surrounding them. 

Though she craved peace, she was much too terrified of the consequences. 

“No.” She warned, meeting his eyes. “I can not fail. Not this time. I will not be another failed Inquisitor!”

Cal’s face fell, but he understood. “We will meet once more, ‘Mira. That-” he paused, voice heavy, “That will be your last chance.”

The Inquisitor’s brow furrowed, but before she could protest the large rocks above began cracking loudly. The pair looked up simultaneously, but suddenly she was flying backwards, she hit the wall behind her hard enough to cause black spots in her vision. 

Did he just push me out of the way? 

The last thing she heard was the sound of hundreds of tons of rocks falling around her, no doubt the rest of the ceiling caving in. 

She was unsure of whether it was Cal’s doing or the Empire’s, but she let the pounding in her head and exhaustion take her away into a deep sleep. 

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it! More coming soon! <3 Keep checking AO3 if you’re liking the story!

[curly-bangtan]

21 Questions Tag :)

tagged by @taeken-my-heart​ (´｡• ◡ •｡`) thank you

1. nickname: kris, kwis, chunder thunder (because i’m a vomit machine since i overdrink), ketty kristy, ketamine warrior (plz don’t do drugs), PEACH

2. zodiac: leo

3. height: 160cm 

4. hogwarts: Slytherin

5. last thing i googled: dyskerin (nerdy science, don’t mind me...)

6. favorite musicians: besides BTS cos that’s just the obvious answer, I listen to such a wide range of music. I love indie artists and bands, I love BANKS, Halsey, the neighbourhood, Cigarettes after Sex, keshi, joji etc. But I also love Travis Scott and Ariana Grande and HER and Frank Ocean and Brockhampton...

7. songs stuck in my head: this song i woke up with a song stuck in my head but i’ve forgotten it now... haha but best of me jikook verse is always stuck in my head, or feel special, or graveyard by halsey

8. following: 99, i’m still kinda new to tumblr so everyone I follow is just writers that I read, it’s to keep track of what I wanna read. but if you wanna be mutuals, literally just dm me :D

9. followers: 2,740 i have no perspective of whether thats little or a lot, neither does it matter to me

10. do you get asks: i currently have 50 requests in my ask for the drabble game which I completely brought upon myself... hahaha other than that, i answer all my asks about my writing!! unless it’s asking me to add u to a taglist which i do do but i just don’t always reply cos I forget lol

11. amount of sleep: the hours of sleep don’t rly matter to me cos I have a really shit quality of sleep, my neighbours wake me up when they leave the house in the morning cos that’s how light of a sleeper i am

12. what are you wearing: a nude knitted choker sweater and black denim skirt with doc martens-like boots

13. dream job: medical researcher, but i grew up loving art and writing so i wish i could make a living out of painting/design or writing but i know i won’t so ._. but curing diseases is also great! lol

14. dream trip: some Mediterranean island, bora bora, maldives, exuma, etc. I love south korea but i’ve been before and am going next summer so i’m choosing somewhere i’ve never been before

15. instruments: piano, guitar, farting, burping, off-key singing

16. languages: english, cantonese, semi-fluent mandarin, conversational french, used to know japanese but now all i remember is “what time is it?”, am doing a korean course in uni on the side

17. favorite songs: outro: tear will always be my favourite bts song, second is probs ddaeng. if you like indie/alt music, listen to sugar by beach fossils. contaminated by banks. belong to you by sabrina claudio. yellow box by the nbhd

18. if you were an animal what would you be: my spirit animal is some sort of feline, but i also love octopuses so that too.

19. favorite food: instant ramen lol i’m asian, pizza, fruits, strawberry milk, jajangmyeon (cough blizzard cough), kimchi fried rice, pad thai, just asian food in general

20. random fact: i have such a dual contradicting personality. i’m such a stone cold bitch to some people, but if i like you i’m so affectionate and soft. i’m a nerd, but i’m a party animal etc.

21. my aesthetic: i guess i’m kinda artsy, love that retro vintage quirky vibe, but depending on my mood, i wear a lot of streetwear, or preppy gingham. hoops and funky earrings, gold jewellery. i have a lot of things in pastel blue, purple and pink as well. idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Tagging: @taexxxiiaa​ @re-sugance​ @bangtanfancamp​ @bangtandimples​ (these are the only ppl i rly talk to on this app lol sad times) so imma tag my fav writers too @prolixitae​ @kinktae​ @gukyi​ (oh wait i haven’t even rly been reading all that much recently either so ... ._. thats it lol)

u don’t have to do the tag if u don’t want to!!

[tommyoboe]

FINAL YEAR - WEEKS 29 & 30.

Oh, Birmingham. 

Oh. Birmingham.

Being back here after what has been quite a blast of a two weeks away is not fun. Stress is taking over my being and today has just been lovely. Not.

I was all ready to go in this morning for an audition for an exciting orchestral opportunity in September, and just as I was heading out the door I received a message from a colleague about a rehearsal I was supposed to be in.

Shiiiiiiiit. I knew there was something I had forgotten this weekend, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it, as I had this audition today. Like, it’s not a huge deal, but I really don’t want to be that person who is flakey and unreliable. I’m constantly having a go at those sorts of people, so there is no way I’m going to become one.

Then I spilt yoghurt inside my bag, so I had to go round smelling like strawberry flavouring all day. How lovely.

But I suppose things improved: I had a good first rehearsal with my string group for one of my recital pieces and I’m now enjoying treats with Cameron to close the week.

Now to talk about something much more exciting than being here in cold miserable Birmingham.

I went to Texas! TEXAS! 

On the second Monday of the Easter break, at a rather ghastly 4:30am, quintet and I set off from Mark’s house in Hertfordshire to Heathrow Airport to get the plane to Dallas/Fort Worth and then to the nearby suburb of Southlake, where we were to be based for the next ten days.

After the nine hour flight, having to put our clocks back to lunchtime was not pleasant, and as much as I wanted to be, I was not hungry for instant Mexican food with tonnes of Texan queso.

It was a lovely welcome though, and set the tone for the next week and a half of concerts, travels and crazy adventures.

This began with a rehearsal at what would be 1am UK time with the Southlake Community Band for a commission piece we would perform with them on the Saturday.

With this in mind, tea and rest was well deserved afterwards.

Waking up at 9 the next day realising it was 3pm in the UK felt bizarre, as if I had spent a hungover day in bed. But no, I had the rest of the day to come yet, and no, I was not hungover.

I had the ambition of selling some of our CDs at our first concert on Tuesday, but realised I did not have a large enough pot for potential cash, so I nicked a tiny bowl from my hosts’ house. To our pleasant surprise and amusement, on the night we sold ten CDs, which meant the bowl was overflowing and I resorted to combining our general donations with this money to share with the others. It was a great feeling, properly earning that money for ourselves.

It also meant that we didn’t have to busk whilst we were out there, quite a relief.

The next two days were free, so we filled the first morning with bowling, which for me started off well before things dramatically declined, rather like a bowling ball crashing to the floor.

Luckily my day was redeemed with a large chocolate covered cherry milkshake. That alone was enough to make up for the rest of the day, and then with wine at tea back at my hosts’ place, I was back feeling *the opening of Love Affair’s Everlasting Love*.

Visiting the ranch and cosmopolitan areas of Fort Worth on Thursday provided some real holiday vibes as we roamed in shirts and shorts in the strong Texan sunshine as if it was summer. We watched the cattle drive (ten seconds of cows with horns) before exploring what people might associate more as ‘traditional Texas’. We ventured into places selling Stetson hats and cowboy boots for $5000 (craaaaaaaazy) and thankfully did not have to dual at high noon in chaps, which I really wanted to find so I could joke to my mum about wearing them as I did as a child out of mine and my brother’s costume box.

Not even embarrassed about that.

Cosmopolitan Fort Worth brought a slice of me to the trip, with high buildings a plenty and cool places for tasty food in a cute open square. The toasted sandwich I had was simply excellent. I am thoroughly missing it now, as I am most of the food.

This included the beautiful brisket we enjoyed at one of our hosts’ houses that evening, before indulging in too many brownies, as well as beer and wine. The effects of that lethal combination weren’t felt until after the laughs in the swimming pool and hot tub and gazing at the beautiful husky puppy brought by a family friend. Almost falling into the swimming pool at one point and cutting my finger on a bottle opener made for some literal sore moments, but overall it was a wonderful night in company as such.

Once the lethal effects of that night did pass through me (unfortunately a bit too literally), I was ready for our first day giving a school performance and workshop. This provided many laughs and even a great moment of tension as we played our classic workshop game ‘21′. With the idea between the group to get to 21 without multiple people saying the same number, the moment two people synced ‘21′ was explosive as the room erupted into meltdown and laughter. It definitely made a change to nodding off in some of the workshops I’ve experienced as an audience member!

Following this was a mammoth of a dinner (not literally, obvs), as I had a super large portion of pesto pasta with a gigantic brownie to follow. Some of the others had huge slabs of cake, easily four times the size of portions here in the UK. Food comas ensued.

Said food coma did not stop us from visiting a beautiful place that evening called Velvet Taco, containing the best taco I’ve ever had. No regrets.

Dallas that evening was also superb. As we drove in and saw the skyline emerge, my eyes lit up as we found a place I would happily live in. I just love the excitement and buzz of big cities, and in its architecture alone Dallas had this in abundance. The contrast with a park right in the middle of the city with a cinema made for another lovely evening.

Saturday brought our partaking in a local festival. The sun deceived us, as despite having pegs for the outdoors setting, this was not enough to prevent the wind behind us blowing our music all over the place. However, our missing entries here and there as a result (or sections in some cases!) didn’t prevent us from enjoying our slot at the popular Southlake festival and with a few accent jokes and our supportive hosts as audience, we got through a tricky couple of hours.

Later that day we returned to the gazebo stage with the Southlake Community Band to give a premiere performance of our commission piece, titled ‘The Yellow Rose of Texas’. It was a fabulous piece, full of traditional American tunes and fun little quirks. Having the band play it so well enhanced our playing also, and even with a couple of hairy moments we performed our best and embraced the great opportunity we had been given.

Delicious Phillipino food at another of our wonderful hosts’ followed, sending me into yet another food coma. Can’t complain though, with salmon it was so worth it.

The next day we took part in a church service, which contained lots of terminology that went over my head, like ‘offertory’ and ‘postlude’. I just did what I was told and appropriately walked out between playing when I had forgotten some music (as you do) and listened to a passionate sermon involving the pastor bashing the table and crying (again, as you do). I just sat there like, well, we’re just here to play the nice music and eat the nice food, thank you, bye bye.

We were indeed treated to food afterwards though so my heart’s desires were fulfilled.

Abi, Henry and I ventured into Dallas again that afternoon to watch the Dallas Symphony Orchestra’s stunning rendition of Stravinksy’s Firebird. It was thrilling, after a slightly lacklustre programming for the first half. I just hope all I remember isn’t Abi and I laughing at some of the captions of the story that came with the music, including the antagonist’s soul living in an egg.

Spoiler: it got smashed.

In the next days more school concerts and workshops took place and we expanded our group knowledge and skills whilst meeting some lovely young people. My favourite person by far was the girl who had a mutual love for The Beach Boys; we took great pleasure in discussing best songs afterwards.

We embraced culture on Tuesday, with a trip to Dallas’ Sixth Floor Museum, an insightful exhibit on the assassination of John F. Kennedy, giving interesting details and making me theorise with my colleagues over what may have happened on that historic day.

This was followed by a trip to TGI Fridays, where history was made in the fact that I indulged in yet another massive meal, along with a VERY fruity cocktail.

Before we knew it it was our final day in the vast state, and after a full morning of performances and masterclasses, we treated ourselves to ice cream and I mean ICE CREAM.

I enjoyed two enormous scoops: one of Oreos and caramel and the other rocky road. It was divine. The others revelled in the fact that I finished so speedily. I don’t mess around, you see.

And then it was our last meal and drinks as a whole group. We enjoyed a final night of interesting conversations, fun laughs and lots of pictures, as well as a coffee stout that literally changed my life, before heading back to rest in preparation for the next day’s flight back.

Saying goodbye to everyone was genuinely emotional in places, and with my hosts having been so great to me, I almost didn’t want to leave. The level of accommodation there was nothing like I’d seen before. Such great people.

The flight back, on the other hand, was not great. Due to waiting in a holding bay for almost an hour at Chicago Airport, we missed our connecting flight, which was to be a huge double decker luxurious plane where we could all sit together.

So we were automatically booked on to the next direct flight home where we were unable to sit next to each other, I hardly got any sleep because I felt uncomfortable and as a result of me misinterpreting the air steward’s question of me wanting a ‘special meal’, I got some horrible vegan shit for my tea, whilst everyone else got chicken entrées and pasta. Abi said they weren’t that nice though so that admittedly did make me feel better #notspoiltatall.

Oh and then because we were told our luggage would be transferred over to this new flight, we believed them and were somewhat surprised to not find our luggage on arrival back in London. It turns out they were put on the next flight after ours, so Mark had to come back in the evening and pick everything up to have delivered to us the next day.

We’ll know which airline we shall NOT be flying with next time...

So despite a sour note to end our fantastic trip on, the experience has been that and more, with so many memories made. I have serious holiday blues now being back in Birmingham, and at the moment seeing Cameron and knowing I can be productive again are the only things getting me through.

Now for a gruelling two weeks and then I will have finished final year! Mental! And then the real world, which tonight seems less horrible as I’ve just got some work for the summer, but after that, who knows...

Back to reality this week, wish us luck!

T

(https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipNgt2j9ypNMB3m1d0u8bBzs8naSTuc3kyJ-eBz8CJgfVnUg6Ok16C8W1Gt4dTRbLg?key=UjdtUmNqYTNUU1E0Q0lYcDF5NzEyLUpmMXRpYkl3 - pictures from Texas: there are just too many for one blog post!)

[sp-aceagecrystals]

Divine Oasis (part 1)

There is a certain sense of unreality that comes with walking through a room of thousands of quietly seated student, their matching uniforms blurring together near the edges. This feeling comes with knowing that against almost absurd odds, your name was picked from the ornate glass bowl sitting on a marble pedestal before the crowd of your peers. It comes with the sudden realization that you will die very, very soon.

Word count: 1785

Warnings: death (by drowning)

Author notes: this is my first finished long creative writing piece, and I’m really proud of having finished it! This is going to be the first part of probably a 6 part series, as it’s the origin for all my Reborn OCs! (Also, the character uses multiple sets of pronouns, so I shifted between them throughout the piece)

———————————————————————--------------------------------------

As Joan sat on a bench at the edge of the expansive room, her eyes focused on a small knick in the hard stone floor. Her caretakers flanked her on either side, two lovely old ladies who had treated her like the little daughter they never had. She had never been interested in these ceremonies; it was always the same speech, the same crushing silence as a name is drawn, and the same somber-yet-anticlimactic finish of some kid getting sent to their own special deathbed. Not to say they didn’t find the process itself interesting, this was just always the most boring part. She was almost entirely zoned out when they felt Ms. Heather lean towards her. She didn’t really process what the woman said, but she quickly noticed the silence that had fallen over the room. The administrator on the podium shifted on her feet slightly, the wait for some sort of response was now getting uncomfortable. One of the four Reborn lined up beside her - an older boy with curly gray hair - reaches over and plucks the name that had been drawn straight from her hand. He clears his throat before repeating it, his tone growing a bit impatient.

“Joseph Harper, please come to the stage.“

Maybe because of the name they called, or the fact that she had missed the name getting picked, but something doesn’t click for a moment. She feels stuck, like all her bones and joints were suddenly concrete, nailed to her seat. Eventually, though, she finds the will to stand. The loud clack-clacking of her formal shoes seems to echo through the entire room as she makes her way to the stage. To ignore the thousands of eyes trained on her, she focused in on the details of the Reborn. The aforementioned boy, a chubby black-haired girl with a warm smile, a red-haired kid who seemed to be shivering, and a younger skinny boy with borderline iridescent eyes. They all looked happy, bored, or some combination of the two. As she comes up the steps, the gray-haired boy helps them up, an indecipherable look of concern in his eyes.

She forces herself to sit still on the stage, simply turning to face the crowd and folding their hands behind their back. The administrator has started droning on again, and soon enough she’s being lead out of the room. Everything feels numb, like all the sound and movement is on another plane, physically close but mentally distant. Someone tells her to sit, and someone says the wait won’t be too long. She listens obediently, trying to drag her mind back to the present. They look towards the closest Reborn, the older boy. Joan notices the way hair seems peppered with a darker gray at the tips; this soot-covering followed throughout his outfit, most notably on the dense black coating on his leather boots. He must notice her assessment, as he glances over to her. With a readjustment of his position to face them, he offers out his hand. She smiles blankly and shakes it, only vaguely processing being informed that his name is Mirror. “A bit of an odd name?” She wills herself to say, though it comes out quiet and empty. He grins slightly and chuckles, “Well, my power is smoke control, so that might help it make a bit more sense? You know, like ‘smoke and mirrors’?”

“Ah, that... works.”

“Yeah.”

And like that, the conversation is just as dead as she will be. He opens his mouth to say something, but the loud slam of the old office doors cuts him off. The two turn towards the source, where three figures cloaked in pure white robes approach. On the top of each hood is dual sets of wings, silky blue embroidered in silver. Their steps are silent, making their very presence seem ethereal and unnatural. Of course, that is fitting for the Holy Hands.

One holds out a pale manila envelope in their hand. Joan takes it, easily prying open the weak adhesive. Unfolding the paper inside, a message is clearly printed inside:

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SACRIFICE FOR MADARIS

YOUR DESIGNATED METHOD IS DROWNING

She stares unthinkingly at the letter, unable to process it, until one of the cloaks’ lowered voices cuts through her thoughts.

“Whenever you are ready…?”

She nods, and the group parts to allow her out of the hall. Hesitantly, she makes her way through, until she turns the corner and freezes in awe. In the past, the main hall had always been surrounding a tall, circular wall, intermediately supported by ornate marble pillars. Now the pillars stand without walls, exposing a flourishing oasis of plants with a small lake (or a large pond, however you want to see it). The spaces once walled in now let soft daylight spill into the main hall, breathing a sort of life into the now empty space. Approaching the edge, even the smell of such untouched wildlife was almost suffocating. Taking a step in feels somehow invasive, as if this sanctuary will be corrupted by their presence. As Joan makes her way to the water’s edge, they spot a small pier nearby. Vines and moss fill the gaps between the sun-bleached boards, wood creaking so loudly she was honestly considering the chances of it snapping under her. The toes of her shoes poked out over the glittering blue-green ripples. They forced a few deep breaths in and out of their lungs, a pathological survival instinct screaming in her mind to reconsider.

Maybe a more dramatic end would have been more fitting; reeling back and taking a running jump, or diving in with the elegance of a natural-born swimmer. They were neither that brash nor that graceful, though, so instead she simply tilted on her toes further and further, until she could sense her weight shift. For a split moment, they processed the sensation of falling, a primal panic jolting through every nerve in her body. But just as quickly as they had started falling they had hit the surface, cold and oddly invigorating. Her clothes were immediately soaked, their too-tight shoes like leather bricks flailing blindly above them. The water stung their eyes and her lungs burned in her chest. Having never learned to swim, Joan was unusually relieved by their inability to save themself at this point. Finally, after battling against every instinct she had, she opened her mouth and took a desperate breath.

The pain was unimaginable. Her throat was being ripped open, shredded from the inside; or at least that’s how it felt. They couldn’t really comprehend whether they were breathing in or out now, not that it made much difference. The water seemed to fill her instantly, her stomach and lung convulsing in some last ditch effort to live. Vision doubling, the deep murky teal of the lake faded into a pure, divine white. Everything they ever knew flashed before them; names, places, colors, voices, sensations. Their final thought was a single statement. Not in a sense of hope or reflection, but a triumphant and bitter promise.

I’m going to live, dad.

•••

They didn’t know how long it’d been once they open their eyes. For a brief moment, she even wondered if she was dreaming. Silt from the spongy floor rises in plumes as they shifted, slightly at first, then attempting to sit up. The cerulean shade surrounding them seemed foggy, almost suffocating. It’s this thought that drew her into a startling awareness that she wasn’t breathing. Not that they were drowning either; no, she was long past that point. Her lungs expanded and deflated uselessly in her chest. They went through the motions to stand, balance practically nonexistent against the water’s pressure. The only interruption to the turquoise landscape was the dark silhouette of one of the pier’s support poles. Lost for a better way to reach the surface, she slowly made her way to it and began the climb up.

The journey was uneventful and seemingly endless. Beams of light cut through the liquid atmosphere, giving hope to a coming end. Finally, their hands gripped over the flat, splintered surface of the pier. Despite not necessarily needing oxygen by this point, the energy she exerted to bring herself atop the boards left her desperate to take a breather. Naturally, her first reflex was to cough up the water now entrenched in her body. This was about as painful as it had been earlier, a fiery hot pain cutting through their esophagus for what must have been forever, until they felt unnaturally empty. To her shock, there was no blood. She desperately wanted to lie down and sleep for the next hundred years. Somehow, though, they found the will to stand, legs so shaky she wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk. They only had to stumble for a moment before their body fell back into the rhythm of the living. Only at the edge of the oasis do they realize that the walls had resealed in the time they were underwater. Too drained (both literally and metaphorically) to try and find another way out, she simply pressed a hand to the ivory wall, leaning into the cold surface for support. In an instant, it began to shake and, with a loud groan, slide to the side. She jumped back in surprise, wrapping her arms around herself. Instead of the coarse fabric of the academy uniform, though, their hands met bare skin. A glance down showed them that they were now wearing some sort of dress, made of a smooth, water-resistant material. The front went down to right above their knees, while slits on the sides separated it from a longer back section that, while rounded, reached halfway down her shins. The dress was sleeveless, the top rounding off below her collarbone and connecting to a matching choker with a black fishnet. Besides the fishnet and matching black leggings, the whole outfit was a similar murky teal to the water they had died in. The cacophony of sound from the wall had stopped, bringing their attention back to what was in front of them.

All the other Reborn stood or sat idly in the main hall. Aside from the younger boy, who had fallen asleep, everyone’s attention had shifted to her. Mirror (was that what he said?) stepped up first, eyes silently taking them in. His gaze met theirs and, offering out a hand, a crooked grin came to his lips. “And who might be joining us?”

They hesitated briefly, mind racing to create a new identity. A single word repeated, again and again, in her head until she smiled back and shook his hand confidently.

“Maritime, at your service.”

[anantradingpvtltd]

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[gogomains]

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