#just to make it clear this balanced glimpses of community also works when someone struggle and in need of support

[ladydisdainblog]

I love tumblr so much because it's in general so anonymous, fandom and content are the main focus, but sometimes someone you follow shares that they had a great day or smth exciting is happening and you just feel like "I so happy for you, bestie". And just feel like it's a perfect balance of mutual interests and personal information that doesn't overwhelm you or make you to form a weird parasocial connection like some other social media.

[shurelyasreverie]

Hi, I am new here. I like your work. May I request a Viego x reader wherein Viego falls madly in love with a Paladin who was sent to purify/ purge the shadow isles of corruption

welcome to the blog! I hope you enjoy all the future works to come, this request included 😊 (I think I made Viego kind of a yandere? Although canonically he pretty much already is?? That’s the appeal to him, right???)

Viego x Reader: You Will Stay

Sent to the Shadow Isles to purify the land, you’ll sacrifice anything to rid the land of the Black Mist. But will that also include sacrificing yourself?

Word Count: 1891

Many said you were doing the work of the gods, the Aspects had delivered you to slowly return the former haven of Runeterra back to it's former glory. It was your calling, the magic that coursed through you was the direct antithesis of whatever sorcery destroyed the Blessed Isles. So when the council of your land heard of your gift, you were instructed to slowly purge the Black Mist before it consumed all of Runeterra.

You weren't briefed on much prior to your arrival here. The Ruination was so many centuries ago, what truly happened was been distorted through myths and word of mouth. You've heard everything from monsters to heartache to murder, and as curious as you were, you were ready to accept you might never know what happened all those years ago.

First stepping onto the darkened land, a chill instantly slithered up your spine. You could feel the tendrils of the Black Mist engulfing you you, wrapping around you with its cold fingers. Goosebumps covered any of your bare skin. The uneasy feeling in your stomach wouldn't die down but you willed yourself to steel your nerves. Looking around, it was clear that you were alone. The only living thing around as you could only see the faint green light of distant, wandering souls. You couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched but you blamed it on the Mist, how it rolled in waves, consuming all of the land. How it pulsed like a heartbeat, like it was someone's lifeline. You took a deep breath. It was more than just a cloud, it was a creature that grew. As you used your magic to will it away, it only recoiled from your touch but swelled around you, determined to keep pushing the boundaries. Determined to find something.

This task was going to prove harder than originally thought.

After a few hours of unsuccessfully keeping the fog at bay, you realised that the only way to truly get rid of the Black Mist was to find the heart of it. Standing up straight, you looked into the Mist but it was fully opaque. Taking a deep breath, you kept your weapon at the ready as you delved deeper into the darkness.

The only company you had was the many souls trapped in the Mist. Many green orbs of lost souls were naïve and terrified, if you could, you'd grant them your aid, using your magic to enlighten them to the spirit realm. However some had become driven to anguish by whatever horrors were in the Shadow Isles, growing into humanoid wraiths that would try to rip you from limb to limb with their bare claws. You would send them down with your weapon, empowered by your purifying magic and then run further into the Mist before any other wraiths would check the commotion.

On the third day you had evaporated a small cluster of wraiths. Despite the fight being over, you couldn't quell your adrenaline, your heart racing as panic rose inside you. Your instincts alarmed you that you were being watched. It was more than just the encompassing presence of the Mist, you could feel a gaze drilling into the back of your skull, how it wandered across your body. But every time you turned to look behind you, no matter how fast or how unpredictable you tried to make it, you'd see nothing but darkness. Perhaps it was impact of spending night and day in such a paranoia inducing land? You steeled your nerves once again.

The next day, you had found a soul that actually communicated with you. Such souls were rare to find, many would dart away from your presence, others remained still and silent as you tried to guide them to the realm beyond. But this soul had been wandering for many years, their age shown by their declined sanity. It was hard to fully decipher what the soul was saying but you managed to figure out some pointers on what happened all those years ago. An obsessive king, hellbent on keeping his wife alive.

“And what was his name?” You asked and the soul told you. Despite never hearing such a name before, you felt a shiver down your spine and you instinctively looked around, as if using his name called him to you.

After five days of travel, you found yourself at the foot of a decrepit castle. Your soul companion told you this was the place. The tops of the towers and battlements had eroded, none of the roofs remained. You struggled to maintain your balance on the jagged cobblestones as you carefully made your way up. Hands on your weapon, you turned back to see the soul staying in place. It refused to travel any further to the castle. Thanking it for it's aid, you sent it to the spirit realm.

You were now truly alone.

The castle was free of any souls or wraiths. The silence was deafening as you could only hear your shoes against the stones and your slow, methodical breathing. The Mist was at its thickest here, it was almost a struggle to breathe. Your magic helped ease the Mist around you and you caught your breath. If this Black Mist was related to this ruined king, you figured the best place to start looking for the centre of the Black Mist was at the throne room.

Pushing a large door open, you cringed at how loudly it screeched against the floor. You had to be quick, there was a good chance a wraith outside heard it. Looking up, in the middle of the throne room, stood a towering throne, its back facing to you. The furniture must've been almost twice your height, blocking any vision of what was in front of it. But you could see the pitch black tendrils of Mist that flowed and spilled off of the throne. You found it. Letting out a sigh of relief, you hurried to the front of the throne.

You chocked out a scream as you came face to face with a man. His emerald eyes held a knowing look as he smirked. Sitting on the throne, head resting on one of his ivory hands, he waved his other with a flourish. Tendrils of Mist shot out from behind him and wrapped around your limbs, pulling you down onto your knees.

“Ah, the purifier has come,” the man taunted, his voice echoing against the hollow walls of the throne room. “Did they really think that one daring little soul could stop me?”

You stared at the man in confusion. This wasn't part of the job brief! Your job was simply to restore the Shadow Isles, not get subdued by the seeming creator of all darkness. Who even was he...?

“Viego,” you whispered, before you could even stop yourself. It was the name the soul told you. You had no idea what he was meant to look like, but somewhere in your heart told him he was the one. His head twitched and his expression softened.

“That is right,” he praised. “But it isn't fair if only you know my name. Tell me, purifier, what is yours?”

“Wait... how do you know that I can purify...?”

“My dear,” Viego chuckled as he leaned down to your level, his face filling your vision. “The Black Mist flows through me. It is a part of me. The instant you entered the Shadow Isles I felt you.”

His hand went up, his fingers tracing your jawline. You watched as Viego let out a sigh, closing his eyes in relief for a brief moment. “Your magic... that warmth. I haven't felt it since-”

Taking advantage of his distracted state, you sent your magic coursing through your body. The tendrils that latched onto you dissipated into thin air and you scrambled up to your feet. However Viego already predicted your movements. A green sword was in his hand, the tip mere millimetres away from your neck as he stood straight. You didn't dare swallow.

When you made eye contact with him, he immediately frowned. “I apologise for my brashness, my dear. But you must understand, you can't leave.”

Pulling the blade back, you heard the door of the throne room behind you close by the Black Mist. Rigid, you couldn't bring yourself to move as Viego stalked closer to you, his hand reaching out and gently curling around to the nape of your neck.

“The instant I saw you I knew you were special. How much did you sacrifice to come here even though you wouldn't gain anything? How much are you willing to sacrifice to restore this land? Such selflessness, such purity.”

“When did you see me?” You asked. Viego smiled.

“Whenever you felt it, I was there, my dear. Watching you dutifully march all the way here was warming. And I had to make sure the wraiths wouldn't deter you, and I most certainly couldn't let them hurt you. I watched you every step of the way.”

Your heart dropped and you could swear Viego must've sensed it as his smile turned to a scowl.

“Why do you respond that way? Am I repulsive to you?”

His grip on the base of your neck tightened, making harder to breathe as you stammered out a no. He then started to rub the back of your neck comfortingly, before letting it trail down your arm and holding onto your hand.

“Let me feel your magic, my love.”

You reluctantly did as you were told and Viego brought your hand up to cup his face. You stifled a gasp as through your magic, for a brief glimpse, you got to see Viego in his past life. Tanned skin with flowing brown hair the only similarity was his bright green eyes that shone with pure warmth. But after that flash you were left with Viego's current, deathly white pallor as he pressed his head into your hands.

“Who are you calling 'my love'?”

“Is there anyone else in this room?” He regarded you warmly. “I can tell you are the one.”

You gently pulled away from him, taking a step back and shaking your head. “I don't even know you.”

“But you knew my name? You know how this land came to be, yes? You know more than enough.”

“I was just sent to try and purify these lands.”

“And you will,” Viego rushed up to you, taking your hands in his, pressing them against his cold chest. “Stay with me and I shall be ruined no more. Your presence purifies me, and in turn, the land shall be purified with me.”

Viegos' arms started to reach around you, wrapping you in his arms. He pulled you into him, your cheek against his chest but you heard no heartbeat. Angling your head more, you looked back to the throne room doors to see them completely engulfed in his Black Mist. There was no way out.

“Your name, my dear?”

“... (Y/N),” you responded, surrendering to your fate. You felt his chest rumble as he repeated your name, testing the syllables. He instinctively smiled.

“(Y/N), my dear. Stay with me.”

You doubted you had a choice.

[7serendipities]

A Personal Lesson from Na Morrigna

I had a difficult December and most of January so far. Not as an excuse, just as context for this post. I struggled a lot with everything that I needed and wanted to get done, and I did not accomplish everything on my list.

At the beginning of this month, at the Dark Moon, I tried to rally myself, tried to steal time and still my inner turmoil enough to put it aside and do the journey and ritual I try to do every month at the Dark Moon. But instead, I heard: Stop. Rest.

Was it my own desires talking, or my intuition, or Na Morrigna? I couldn't say for sure, but I did rest. I let days pass, I tried to get other things done. But it tugged at the back of my mind. The anxiety remained until today, on the Full Moon, I finally did a journey. I lit Their candle, and laid on the floor in my ritual room, a shawl covering my face and head, and I went to see Them in my usual way.

When I entered the clearing, They stood around the cauldron, and reached out to take my hands and bring me into their circle. I tried to make an apology, but they just smiled at me kindly. They knew how hard I had struggled, and we all knew there was room in my contract for times like this. I had failed, yes, but I had not violated anything. Mistakes and failure, They told me, are important parts of the human experience, places to plant the seeds of new growth.

I had not been expecting such gentle compassion. I knew I was not in violation, but I had expected disapproval, impatience for getting to work. But instead, as I began to cry, They encouraged me to weep into the cauldron, and to shriek my rage and overwhelm into the waters within. That was my offering today — an emotional outpouring I’d been trying to keep in check.

I asked for words to share with others, the message I had failed to come to retrieve two weeks ago, but They told me not to worry. They gently laughed and said there were no messages only I could bring, nothing that They could not get to Their followers in other ways. My work is useful to Them, but I am not the only one doing this work. They have many pathways for the same omens, and the best thing for me to do now would be to share this experience with others. Although I had known that before — had glimpsed in the cauldron the extensive connected lines of their network of messages and omens — it still felt in that moment like illumination. Space had been left to mitigate failures. As someone who lives in a society where lean staffing and 60 hour work weeks and barely any paid vacation is the norm, I felt profound relief. I had not before realized how much of that attitude of near-constant productivity I had been bringing to my work with Na Morrigna, though in retrospect it seems much more obvious. I was reminded, also, that although my writings benefit the community, I am essentially a Deity-Facing cleric, not a pastoral one who tends a human community. Others do that and do it well and I don’t need to feel pushed to give more in service than what has been asked of me.

What was asked of me was this:

On the Dark Moon, when I am able, I am to share a message or other writing that comes from Them

If any of the followers of any of Na Morrigna come to me for healing or divination, subject to my availability, I am to offer my services free of charge, the balance of exchange shifting to include Them, such that I am compensated by Them, and They are compensated by the follower directly. (Although if the followers wish, they may still compensate me directly instead, by money or barter.)

Hopefully this has been enlightening to someone besides me; the lesson I thought I knew has sunk in a little deeper for me, now, and I’m grateful for the reminder. See you next Dark Moon.

[loosescrewslefty]

Miraculous Ladybug- Fixing the Powers

I’ve been very much bothered by the way that the writing team for Miraculous Ladybug has been handling powers for a long time now. It might not be as frustrating or offensive as how they sometimes treat the characters and their relationships, but it BOTHERS me. Because it doesn’t make sense that Adults are more powerful than kids just by the grace of being an adult if the magic comes from a kwami and the jewelry and as such the age of the wearer shouldn’t matter as much. And objectively speaking, there as several ‘minor’ miraculouses that seem WAY more powerful than the two that are supposed to be the most coveted, the Ladybug and Chat Noir miraculouses. Also both the addition of the potions AND the distinctions given to some of the miraculouses/kwamis (Such as Pollen being the ‘Kwami of Subjugation’) are just... ODD. So a while back I sat down and charted out a way to ‘fix’ the powers in Miraculous Ladybug, much like I’ve seen others fix plots and characters.

More Clearly based on Yin/Yang, Wu Xing, and the Zodiacs

I can’t tell you how much it annoys me that Astruc clearly chose these Chinese motifs for the aesthetic, and didn’t bother researching or properly applying any of the theology attached to them to his show. Ladybug and Chat Noir SHOULD be equal, and balance one another out, but they’re not. Instead, Ladybug gets way more power and importance than Chat Noir does. And the Wu Xing Cycle is an important one too, because that’s nature holding itself in check. 

The Wu Xing has four different cycles attached to it; the Creation Cycle, the Destruction Cycle, the Insult Cycle, and the Controlling Cycle. It could have been interesting to lean into this, so that pairing two miraculous heroes together can lead to new powers being unlocked, depending on the two in question, and that if a  Hawkmoth happens, there are two heroes other than Ladybug and Chat who’d be able to step up and confront him.

New Stations/Distinctions for the Kwamis

It bothers me that the distinctions chosen for the Kwami feel extremely random, and don’t fit together at all. Nooroo is “Generosity”, Trixx is “Deception”, Pollen is “Subjugation”, Wayzz is “Protection”, and Duusuu is “Emotion.” Like, on their own these are fine. But none of them really relate to one another in a way that makes sense, which the Wu Xing SHOULD. As much as it annoys me, I can sorta understand why it would be a bad idea to attach the specific elements themselves to each Miraculous, because then people will expect the powers of that miraculous to relate to that element, which is very limiting. The Wu Xing is about much more than just nature and the elements. It’s also used to reference the passing of time, physical parts of the body, emotions, cardinal directions and so much more. 

But I still feel that the Distinctions for each Kwami and their powers should be presented in a what where it makes sense to see them relating to one another. One way I’ve suggested for people to do this is to include Ladybug and Chat in the consideration and base each of the Kwamis off of one of the Seven Chakras. But another way I like much better is to consider the kwamis in relation to what area their abilities will affect. For Example; Fox- Mind (Wood) Bee- Energy (Fire) Turtle- Body (Earth) Peacock- Soul (Metal) Butterfly- Heart (Water)

These are things you can tell at a glance relate to one another, without limiting the kwamis too much to being one trick ponies. And speaking of limits...

Limits are based on internal balance, not age

In an effort to make the sage figure that is supposed to be Fu NOT look like he has sand for brains and decided it’d be a good idea to give his chosen heroes a massive handicap against the villain right out of the gate, we’re going to change up the limiter for the Miraculouses. Rather than being based on age, the thing that determines how well you use a miraculous is your affiliation with the element/distinction that the Miraculous represents. Let’s use Kim as an example here. He’s very energetic and driven, so he’d have a great time with either the Bee or the Turtle, but give him the Peacock, the Butterfly, or the Fox, and things will get a hell of a lot harder for him. On the exact flip side, Juleka would be great with the Peacock, Butterfly, or Fox, but would struggle with the Bee or the Turtle.

Having the powers draw off of being able to synchronize with that power/ability due to personality makes sense, and is more true to the concepts that Miraculous Ladybug is trying to present than claiming that it’s because of age. And the beauty of this is that people can grow and change at any point in their life, which means that they can learn and change and miraculouses that they once struggled with can become easier for them to use while ones they once used easily can slip from their grasp if they begin to neglect that aspect of themselves.

More Clear and Understandable Power Pyramid

This is one of the things that bothers me MOST about how they’ve been handling the powers. We’re supposed to see Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculouses as the be all/end all, but many of the zodiac miraculouses seem much more powerful than them, and even the Peacock and Butterfly can create opponents that are more than a match for the Lucky Duo. Not to mention the fact that, as I said before, the Lucky Duo itself is imbalanced due to Ladybug getting all the power in their relationship. So the best way to fix that?

Power Pyramid.

By this, I mean that instead of all miraculouses just getting one power and calling it a day, it makes more sense to present the powers as an almost ‘trickle’ effect. To start off, Zodiacs get defined by a single element and whichever side of Yin/Yang they fall on, and get their power based on that. For example, the Dragon. That is a Yang/Earth (Body) Personality, who uses the elements in an aggressive way. Meanwhile, Snake is a Yin/Fire (Energy), so they require someone who comes across as passive, but is actually patient and knows to wait for the precise moment to strike.

Next level up from the Zodiac Miraculouses, we have the Wu Xing/Elemental Miraculouses. Rather than just one power, each Wu Xing Miraculous should get two, one based on it’s “Yin” Abilities, and one for it’s “Yang.” the way I broke it down when I was working this out for examples went like so;

Trixx

Fox Powers/Mind

Yang- Mirage 

Creates an illusion of the user’s choosing.

Yin- Outfox

Gives the user the ability to convince the victim that anything they’re saying is true.

Pollen

Bee Powers/Energy

Yang- Nectar

Ability to heal injuries and cure illnesses (not as strong as Miraculous Cure)

Yin- Sting

Causes temporary paralysis

Wayzz

Turtle Powers/Body

Yang- Shell-ture

Creates an impenetrable shield

Yin- Withdraw

Teleportation ability that allows the user to put people and object of their desire in a pocket dimension of their own making for protection.

Duusu

Peacock Powers/Soul

Yang- Good Spirits

Creates a golem/familiar of sorts that is bonded to a certain person or object and protects them at all costs.

Yin- Soul Search

Allows the user to leave their body and enter another persons to take control of their actions and peer into their memories.

Nooroo

Butterfly Powers/Heart

Yang- Metamorphosis

Creates heroes to fight alongside the user

Yin- Butterfly Effect

Allows a brief glimpse into the future

And then after the Elements, at the top of the Pyramid we have Ladybug and Chat Noir, who get a whopping FIVE power each, but can only access those powers when they are in tune with that aspect of themselves, much like using the lesser miraculouses. For Example, Marinette’s Ladybug Can easily do the Mind, Energy, and Heart powers, but has a much, MUCH harder time with the Soul one, because she tends to read people at face value rather than trying to see beneath the surface. Adrien’s Chat Noir is excellent with the Body and Energy powers, but struggles much more with Mind (linked to one’s creativity) and Heart (Based on people’s abilities to connect with others, something Adrien struggles with after being home schooled his entire life) My idea for the Ladybug and Chat Noir powers look like this;

Tikki

Ladybug Powers:

Positive Heart- (Healing) 

Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous Cure

Heals all wounds, restores everything to its proper state

Positive Mind- (Inspiration) 

Lucky Charm

Grants Ladybug an object to help her win

Positive Energy- (Creating) 

Wish Come True

Allows Ladybug to will into existence something of her own choosing

Positive Body- (Protecting) 

Elytron

Allows Ladybug to recreate both her own suit and the suits of her allies to help them fight (space suits, ice skating form, underwater suits, ect)

Positive Soul- (Life) 

Red Thread

Ladybug has a limited ability to communicate with plants and animals, extending some of her power to them. Also works on humans, if the person trusts Ladybug enough to basically let her see into their very soul.

Plagg

Chat Noir Powers:

Negative Heart- (Toxicity) 

Cat Scratch

Curses the victim with a lingering sickness that can only be healed by Ladybug.

Negative Mind- (Madness) 

Cheshire Cat

Causes temporary insanity, which varies from victim to victim.

Negative Energy- (Destruction) 

Cataclysm

Destroys anything the user touches.

Negative Body- (Weakness) 

Catatonic 

Puts the victim to sleep.

Negative Soul- (Death) 

Catacomb

Allows the user to see, touch and summon spirits/ghosts

And that’s the basic breakdown of how I feel the powers of the ML universe SHOULD be handled instead. Feel free to comment with thoughts and inputs of your own and ask questions if any of this doesn’t make sense! ^^

[fuckyeahharryhart]

HARRY HART FAN FICTION Because they better give him a good story for the last Kingsman. In case they don’t, I wrote something myself.

KINGSMAN III Fan Fiction REDACTED Part 1 (in case they mess up the last Kingsman movie)

Because I’m both excited an afraid of what they are planning for the last Kingsman. I, as well as A LOT of people were pissed that they killed off Merlin, let alone all the others. This is my Fan Fic for what I thought should happen in Kingsman 3 and how they could possibly bring Merlin back....And A LOT of Harry Hart, and some new characters, too..

MULTI PART SERIES:(My version of Kingsman 3)

Harry Hart x Original Character 

Warnings: Reference to violence 

Word Count: 5,900

Summary: After the events of Kingsman, The Golden Circle, Harry, Eggsy and the rest of the survivors rebuild their agency to it’s former level of integrity. A new player arrives unexpectedly, carrying memories of the past that will change the future of Kingsman.

-----

PART 1

The evening was still warm and pleasant as the sun dropped behind the last of the buildings overlooking the London skyline. For a few brief moments, when the final rays of light glanced off the windows facing the west, the sky seemed to flame.

The sun struggled to hold its place, but as it conceded, the day began its transition into night. A new energy would begin to blanket the momentary quiet streets.

So the sun set on another day in London. Saville Row stilled once more as store fronts closed up and settled down for the evening.

Further along the walk, two gentleman were about to descend the stone steps of one of the shops. One man stood a little taller, a little older, more distinguished than the other. Both were impressively attired, as would be the case if they were in the company’s employ. But of course, this was to be expected. What this street was best known for was being the undeniable home of hand-crafted British bespoke - thus named because when customers used to choose their cloth it was said to "be spoken for".

The older gentleman, the taller of the two, had broad shoulders and a lean figure, with long legs and a silhouette that suggested strength and movement. The younger man, though shorter, had a compact, sturdy build with a wide chest and a distinctly strong jaw line, sandy hair and blue eyes. He had the shape and movements of an athlete, and the personality to match. Gregarious, enthusiastic, like a puppy who was just beginning to grow into his paws.

It might have been the younger man’s youthful exuberant energy and confidence that caught your eye, but it was the older man whose quiet, distinguished gravitas that held your gaze and kept it.

As twilight embarked on its journey to introduce the night sky, the new Kingsman shop glowed with golden light among the dark streets of London. In the heart of Savile Row, the street was, perhaps, a bit too quiet.

The younger man was jesting the older in the manner of both a comrade and a son. And with the patience of both a father and the derision of an older brother, the man, resigned to be the long suffering confidant, obliged the mischief with a somewhat exasperated, but affable, good nature.

“So.” The younger man queried. “You gonna get one of them new Kingsman cars for your birthday?”

He eyed him with a sideways glance. “What would you know of my birthday?” the stately gentleman countered, skeptical.

“Know it was long time ago.”  He chaffed under his breath.

“That’s certainly one way of looking at it.” He replied briskly.

“You gonna have a do?”

“Rubbish.” “ he replied, unamused.

“You should.”

“I will be sure to keep that in mind.” However, the quip in his voice and his doubtful expression suggested that he had already dismissed the notion as utterly preposterous.

They both took the steps down to the pavement and toward the waiting car. The new taxis, upgraded with first rate technology, were still in production. In the meantime, hire cars were made available for their use.

“When are the Kingsman cars gonna be ready, anyway?”

The older man he reached down to unlock the car door.  He was about to reply when the key fob was shot out of his hand.

Apparently, not soon enough, he thought as he dropped down to the ground. Who ever had taken that shot was sending a message, and if the message included bullets, it was best to fall below the line of fire.

More gunfire erupted, this time from a different direction. Mayhem, of course. He sighed. Would he never be able to enjoy a quiet evening ever again? Perhaps he was getting too old for this.

His expectations for a peaceful, uneventful evening were simply entertainment for a higher power. Every time one makes a plan, he thought reaching for his own weapon, God laughs. He would be sure to bear that in mind next time.

——

If the word gentleman were to take on a physical shape, that shape would look like Harry Hart.  If you were in his presence, you had no choice but to look at him. No other option existed. It was as if there were an unseen magnetic force that held your gaze upon him.

Harry Hart was a man you saw immediately. He carried an air of timelessness. There was neither a sense of young or old. Nor future or past. He was both modern and old world. He was a contradiction that somehow made perfect sense.

He was an arresting figure. From his dark horn rimmed glasses, all the way down to the impeccable shine of his black Oxford shoes. The immaculate cut of his bespoke suit emphasized the sleek masculine lines of his body and he carried himself as naturally and as easily as though he was born to wear it.

The suit seemed to enhance his movements, rather than hinder or constrict. He presented a certain ease and grace of movement, as if the lines of the suit knew how he moved and thus moved with him. But even as he grew still, the suit would hang perfectly in place.  Only a slight movement of his hand would smooth out his jacket or a flick of the wrist to adjust his cuff links.

He existed as if being Harry Hart was effortless. Without a hint of doubt or hesitation. A man who was never one to question his purpose in life or in his work.

There was no denying, that even in his late fifties, that Harry Hart was a handsome man. Each individual feature was attractive, but it was the man, as a whole, that was truly beautiful. He was the kind of being that if he were to walk by, he would turn the heads of both men and women. All intrigued for reasons they wouldn’t be able to explain in words.

If you asked someone in passing what he looked like, they would say he was handsome. But if queried further they would be curiously unable to recall any exact details of his physical appearance.

It was the rare quality of a person completely at ease in his own skin, who never doubted the reason for his existence or the meaning of his life. Who does not need or desire anything that lies outside the present moment. He possessed a rare, undefined quality that communicated without speaking a word. It said honor, integrity, decency and benevolence.

Harry Hart was the sum of all his parts.

Yet, one could not deny that he was a man of exemplary physical characteristics. If you had the opportunity to sit and observe him for longer than a passing moment, you would determine that his presence, his immediacy, was also due to the fact that he was a very tall man, a substantial man, with broad shoulders, slim hips, and long legs that were able to carry him with a grace and elegance that was inimitable.

Looking more closely, you would notice the pleasing structure of his face, clear, golden brown eyes below a strong brow and a smooth broad forehead. His hair was a light brown, made even lighter by the dusting of silver at his temples and around his ears. His hair was combed back and styled into smooth waves, but if left on its own you suspect that it would be a little wild, a little untamed.

He also exuded strength and power, but not in a purely physical sense, for his suit covered his body from the nape of his neck to the soles of his feet. These qualities seemed a part of him, naturally. He was not a man who worked out for vanity. His strength was not an end to achieve, in and of itself, but rather the means for a greater purpose. As opposed to the bulk muscle of a weight lifter, whose strength was inert, motionless, without purpose, whose power lacked a driving force. Harry’s strength seemed lighter, more balanced and suggested the movement of a precision instrument, guided by an expert hand.

If, perchance, you were able to see him in his own surroundings or with people close to him, you would be able to glimpse the finer points of his character.

That his clear brown eyes could see into anyone he chose to observe. He had the ability to maintain eye-contact with a singular focus that was unwavering, direct, sometimes disconcertingly so. He could speak as clearly with his gaze as he could with words. Or, if needed, close himself off to any inquiries that might not be welcome.

But also, those brown eyes, with just a little softening, could exude kindness, warmth, and affection. Or at other times, a twinkle of amusement or mischief. Maybe a slight narrowing, a hint of displeasure, maybe concern, a glint of approval.

Perhaps, in a quiet moment, you had the chance to hear his voice.  Deep and calm, soothing even. Articulate. He was not known for his garrulousness, so the words he did speak were deliberate, communicating precisely what he wanted to say. Measured pauses of silence were often as eloquent as his words.

Surprisingly, he was a more quiet man. You expected his voice to be louder, but then you realized that his tone and his pace were calculated. He wanted whoever he was speaking with to be present and concentrate on his words.

But just underneath the steady low, tones you could hear the steely vibrations of a more dominant voice. Just as his physicality suggested a latent power he only need to tap into. Never one to shout or yell to be heard, all he needed to do was unleash that forceful voice to ensure the attention of those around him.

Unknowingly to those around him, all of these features made Harry Hart a lethal and ruthless secret agent with the ability to annihilate his enemies with ease. His mind was sharp and exacting, honed by years of training, experience in the field, and natural talent and skill. Combined with his physical prowess and his innate unflappable nerve, he was nearly unstoppable.

Yet, even beyond these features, could be found a hint of something more, a softness, a gentleness, a kindness and a vulnerability. If only someone took the time to look for them.

—

In the hushed shadows of the evening, as the sky blackened and welcomed the night, a lone figure stood in the shelter of the darkness. A female figure, though it would be difficult to tell at first glance. Ambiguously attired in appropriate, but unremarkable clothing. She was tall and slight. Her features were obscured beneath the cap she wore. Which was her intention.

Her objective was to observe, and even so, remain unseen. To achieve this, she had to be unmemorable, forgettable, average, so she could continue her surveillance without raising scrutiny. Careful not to linger too long in one spot, she continued to move steadily in the direction of the two men. She remained within the shadows between buildings, in a store front, near a set of stairs.

She maintained her air of causal nonchalance.  Under the pretext of quietly browsing at the collection of mens wear and accessories, she paused on the landing of a closed shop. As would anyone just getting off of work and arrived too late, after the shop closed and chose to stay and window shop.  The two men were conversing as they closed up.

Keeping a close eye on her subjects, she simultaneously scanned for possible counter surveillance. Watching out for other people, watching her as she watched her mark. Recording all the people she saw along the street, the make and models of the cars that drove past, any subtle shifts in the temperature and feel of her surroundings. An aspect that appeared out of place, shop lights that remained on past closing, a delivery lorry that arrived behind schedule. Anything that fell beyond the edges of the routine she had documented over the past four weeks. Her sharp sense of hearing, honed to listen and analyse approaching sounds, vehicles, the footsteps of nearby people, their gait, speed and direction, would alert her to any suspicious activity that was out of her immediate view.

After all, Kingsman was a covert intelligence agency, performing under the umbrella of a bespoke tailor shop. but in the end, they were all just spies practicing tradecraft.

——

For the last fortnight, the routine of the two men remained the same. Surprisingly sedate and unremarkable. They would meet at the shop in the mornings, between 8:00- 8:30am. Opening hours were 9am to 5:30 am during the week from Mondays to Friday. Saturdays were 10am to 3pm or by appointment. Closed on Sundays. They followed this schedule diligently, which simplified her task. Perhaps there were some outings during the day for either of them. As the days passed, one indistinguishable from the next, she began to suspect that they had a secondary location.

It would make sense. Kingsman was their backstop, their front organization so they could keep their intelligence operations secret. Many individuals entered the doors to their shop. Some stayed suspiciously longer than others. After detailing the amount of foot traffic stepping through their shop, she gathered that they must have an ancillary site, or an annex, whether it be at this location, or somehow connected.

An unusual number of clients entered the store, but the corresponding number of customers did not exit the shop. With the size of the shop, the footprint of space that was available, she estimated there to be at least three fitting rooms in addition to the showroom, workshop, a studio, and perhaps a small living area. The shops of Saville Row were not known for being expansive. Most could be termed cozy if one was being generous. She highly doubted that the number of well dressed men that she saw entering the shop, but not leaving, were entertaining themselves with tea and biscuits and conversation for most of the day. However, at the onset of the eve, without fail, after she was able to distinguish the clients from the employees, one by one, like rabbits out of a warren, they stepped out from the front doors and disappeared into the city for whatever evening they had planned.

—

Her first fortnight was spent mapping out the city, learning its lines of traffic, communication and commerce, so she could build an internal map in her head. At sunrise, she was a figure on the move. Walking one day, riding the Tube the next. She traveled up and down the streets. She took the Overground, the tram, the light rail. But mostly she walked. She walked through the markets with their fresh bread and curries and trendy second hand clothing. One day the Tate Modern stood to her right. The following day she walked past with the Natural History Museum on her left. She noted how the morning light struck the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral and how the sunset on the two western towers of Westminster Abbey. She crossed the River Thames via the London Bridge and then crossed back by the Tower Bridge on her return. She walked from Piccadilly Circus to Leicester Square and then around to the National Portrait Gallery.

Though the sites were beautiful, she wasn’t sightseeing. However, she was, indeed taking mental snapshots wherever she went.

She wasn’t memorising routes.

She was learning the lay of the land.

She was following the flow of the River Thames.

She was reading the structure of the city.

She was noticing points of convergence.

She was looking for routine and repetition.

She was identifying patterns.

She sought out patterns from the cities routes to the naming of streets. If she had to go on the run, time wouldn’t stop so she could check her phone or ask for directions. She needed to know where she was going, and if she needed to, how to get back.  Knowing where she’d just been was as important as knowing where she was going. So the same way she was mapping where she was going, she utilised a post-route mental street mapping technique to backtrack. Reliance on technology could be a weakness and she made a point to “go analog” when it was opportune. And if her confidence yielded to encroaching doubt, she always circled back to square one.

Always remember your training.

She was trained to look for signs of directions no matter where she was.

And to do that, she first had to establish a known point.

——

She commandeered Kingsman as her known point, a sort of home base, but for mapping purposes. She used it rather than her hotel since it was the main site of her surveillance. It was the logical choice. If she mapped properly she would be able to maintain where she was in relation to the shop no matter where she was in the city. Having Kingsman as her known point helped her connect the mental map she was creating in her head to the physical landscape of the city. If she ever found herself lost, she could use her known point as a sort of primitive means of navigation. All roads lead back to Kingsman, she thought with irony. For her, they actually did.

From her known point, she determined where north, south, east and west were. In any direction she went, no matter how near or far, she continued to add on to her mental map, making it more comprehensive and precise.  The architecture of the city was invaluable. She used the landmarks to help her navigate distance, direction, and orientation. If it was a full overcast day, she wouldn’t be able to rely on the sun’s location in the sky to determine time and orientation. But if she knew the history of the city or how the architecture was initially planned, she could use structures as directional indicators. Studying which sides of a structure shows bleaching or corrosion could also help her determine cardinal directions or aid in maintaining a “heading” of travel without drawing attention herself, without seemingly wandering around lost.

Half of this knowledge she would never have to use. Hell, 99% would just be filed away, never to have an occasion to be helpful. But today’s preparation determined tomorrow’s achievement. Or, depending on her mood, as one “Big Ben” once said, “By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.”  Regardless of attitude, she had to be prepared for any scenario. There would be no second chances. She had no safe house, no handler guiding her, no fancy tech at her fingertips. Every operation of hers was a black operation. If there was blowback, she was the first and last in line. There was no station that she could return to, no case officer to back her up, no one to offer her operational security, no diplomatic cover, no plausible deniability. There was no protocol she could follow for what she had planned. She was acting purely on instinct and intuition and the intelligence that was already in her possession. It was all she had. SHE was all she had. She was all she ever had.

——

When she first arrived in the city, she was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the city itself, true, like it was a living and breathing entity. But mostly, she was overwhelmed by the purpose of her journey. Her reason for being in London. It was a delicate mission with an uncertain outcome and could easily be derailed by a single misstep. She was determined not to make one. Hence the extra time for reconnaissance and surveillance. Failure was unthinkable.

She had journeyed from Paris, underneath the channel, to London via Eurostar. The high speed train was clean and modern. It ran on time. She found the seats comfortable. The Wifi connection was strong and she had plenty of outlets to charge her many devices. She was pleased to avoid Heathrow, as she found the whole process of flying a test of her patience. When she arrived at London St. Pancras International in the evening, she collected her few belongings. Which mostly consisted of her laptop, two smart phones and a tablet. Securing her bags, she stepped off the train, onto the platform and followed the flow of arriving travellers.

When the station opened up to a huge concourse, she was greeted with the sparkle of brightly lit, colourful shops. An impressive range of high end luxury stores and boutiques, selling everything from perfume, to crystal, to gourmet foods. Bars and restaurants were brimming with patrons. Clinking glassware, the shuffle of plates and silverware underscored the many voices all layered within their conversations. Among the droves of people, there were the homecomers and those who were departing for their own destinations. Immersing her senses with the spirit of the evening, her pace subsided until she halted to a standstill. She was a rock that split the stream of travellers and they flowed on either side of her. She felt them pass by. They posed little interest to her. She asked herself, one final time, if she was doing the right thing. She stood underneath beams of the vaulted ceiling that curved high overhead. She witnessed all of these people, coming together, converging, merging on this one spot, this open space where paths meet.

She took a deep breath in. She took a long breath out.

She hoped that the path she had chosen was the right one.

Hitching her bag higher on her shoulder she stepped into the stream and disappeared within the throng of journeyers, the transients, and the seekers.

-----

Back at Saville Row, at the top of the street, she spotted the front end of a dark blue, two door Vauxhall Corsa turn the corner. Twice now, she had seen the same vehicle drive past. The likelihood of the same car, navigating the one way streets and having to backtrack to come around the same corner a third time, was not happenstance. It might be the third most common car in London, but when the plate had the identical three letter identifier, HFK, it was not a coincidence, and in fractions, she was fully alert.

The length of Saville Row, from one end to the other was less than 900 feet.  Which left her with only heartbeats to decide what to do. Asking herself “what if” would burn through seconds she did not have. That was a rabbit hole not to fall into. The best way to stay calm and focused was to decide what to do next. A suspicious car rolling down the street could mean anything, from something as simple and innocuous as a tail, to something as dangerous as a kidnapping, to an attack with possible devastating effects, if they had a VBIED, a vehicle borne improvised explosive device.

Clearing her mind of anything outside her assessment of the possible threat, she processed the information in-front of her.  Having something to concentrate allowed her mind to remain focused no matter what was happening in the background.

Identify the problem. When you saw hoof prints, you thought horse, not zebra. The circumstances were less than ideal for a kidnapping; the vehicle too small, the street too prominent, two targets rather than one. For a VBIED, while it could be a VERY effective way to eliminate two targets at once, unless they were thinking of suicide bombing, the vehicle should have been set up in advance with a trigger mechanism to ignite the device, like a pressure plate or a vibration switch. Could their taxi have been booby trapped with a device? She observed no suspicious activity. Was there another vehicle on the street that could be hooked up with a secondary explosive device? Certainly, an effective means of blocking the entire area against police and emergency staff. The blue Corsa could be used as a road block or could carry a remote trigger. Two explosions, without knowing the payload of the bombs, could not only be devastating, but catastrophic. The rabbit hole was slipping under her feet. Too many “what if’s”. She stepped back from the edge and bet on the horse.

Once again, she closed the door to any uncertainties. What kind of problem was this? She recognised the set up for a drive by shooting when she saw one.

Something was going to happen next regardless of what she did. So when that something happened, she wanted to be the deciding factor. Again, what to do next?

Shooting the vehicle would only incapacitate their transportation. They would still be dangerous. She could take out the windshield and the driver at the same time. But they would surely have a second shooter, especially for two targets, and he would still be active and armed. Plus, if she had time to take out the second man, that meant the second man had time to take out one of his targets. One out of two was still one too many for her. Which led her to her course of action.

For the two men to survive, they needed to get down. And she wasn’t talking about ducking.  Not dodging, not looking for cover. They needed to hit the ground, and hit it fast. With feeling. Her options? If she just pulled a warning shot, chances were likely that they would look around for the source of the gunshot, and there was no way to distinguish her shots as “friendly fire”.  Friendly fire could still kill, regardless of the intent. The bullet didn’t care why it was fired. When there were bullets coming in your direction from an unknown gunman, it was all enemy fire.

Because of their training, they would react instinctively to the sound of gunshots.  Experience would tell them to take cover, quick draw their own weapons, and return fire in the direction of where the shots came from. For once, she cursed their skills. When the target was not aware that the gunshot they just heard was friendly fire or a warning shot, that just meant that the shooter aimed and missed. Thus the shooter was a poor shot, giving them a chance to shoot back.

She needed to make her threat as immediate as she could. Instinct would tell them the only option for survival was taking cover. A shot above their heads would definitely get their attention, but that still didn’t guarantee that they would move out of the line of fire. Not her line of fire, but from the threat. A single shot had to tell them she could have easily killed them, the bullet did not miss, the shot was intentional, and the message was, GET DOWN NOW. Bonus points if they rolled. That would be even better.  Where to take that shot? If she missed her target, well, saying that would be bad, would be the understatement to understate all statements.

Firing her gun was her last option. Regrettably, it was her only option. She was carrying illegally, and with no doubt, would alert both sides to her presence. Even though they would have minimal information, she preferred they didn’t even know that information existed.

Many things would result from putting her gun into play.  If she used her gun for a warning shot, then she had to be prepared to be directly involved in a fire fight. And if she was going to be in a firefight, she damn well was going to come out on top. And if she was forced to fight, she would sure as hell fight to win.

She processed all of this in the matter of seconds. Her weapon was drawn before her last thought completed its message.

Her final thought. Fuck.

She wasn’t extravagant with her choice of firearms. She preferred performance and reliability over looks. A Glock 26 sub-compact was her pick for conceal carry. It had less recoil, more on target accuracy, and a fast rate of fire for a gun of its size. Compact enough to be easily concealed, even on her slim frame. A shoulder holster was her carry position of choice. Other positions risked printing. It still had sufficient barrel length to get decent performance out of her ammunition. Ten round magazines were her preference, though it had the capacity for more. She found it cumbersome on the field and only used larger capacity mags when she was target practicing. With the smaller barrel, it had a little more lift than her full size weapon, the Glock 19, but she could compensate easily for the difference between the two. She always kept one in the chamber, ready to be fired. Now she was very glad she did.

The blue coupe rolled toward the men at a deliberate pace as they descended the few steps to the pavement. Tinted windows and the glare of the streets lights blocked her view of the car’s interior. She kept its position in the periphery of her mind. As she drew her weapon, she was comforted by its familiar weight, shape, feel, and the trust that she had with the nuances of its operation. When her weapon was on her, whether holstered or drawn, it became, essentially, an extension of her own body, and thus, was as personal to her as the hands that used it.

No matter where or how she shot her weapon, whether it be for practice, self defence, or to kill, she always returned to the same training, every single time, no matter her target. Repetition, after all, was mastery.

Accuracy was paramount. The biggest lesson she had ever learned?  If you didn’t hit what you intended to, you would, of course, hit something else. And you were the one responsible for it.  Guns didn’t miss, shooters missed. The bullet would land wherever the muzzle and front sight were pointed when the trigger was engaged.  If she didn’t hit her mark, it happened because her front sight and the muzzle were pulled, pushed or jerked out of alignment with the straight line between her eye and her target. And if it deviated, it did so because of the way she manipulated the trigger. Basically, a missed shot was down to user error.

When firing her weapon, she always came back to the relationship between her front sight, rear sight, trigger, her eye and the target.

The more precise the shot, the more precise her sight picture had to be. And this had to be one of the most precise shots she’d ever had to take out in the field. What had she been thinking about understatements?

Well, whatever she thought fell aside and she focused singularly on the task in front of her.

She adopted her modified weaver stance, by instinct.  Feet a little wider than shoulder width. Knees soft. Dominant foot slighty behind the other. Her weight was evenly distributed, but she was  leaning forward just slightly and angled away from her target. Basically, a boxer’s recovery stance.

She looked at the exact spot on the target that she wanted to hit

She visualized a straight line between her eye and that spot.

She raised her weapon and brought it up to eye level.

She relaxed her grip until it felt natural.

She made sure that front and rear sight intersected the line she drew between her eye and the target.

She levelled the top of the front sight with the top of the rear sight.

She changed her eye focus from the spot on the target to the front of her gun, until her sharp focus centered on the front site.

She could still see her target in line in the distance.

She softened and relaxed the muscles of her face until it felt peaceful.

She shifted her weight just the tiniest bit to the balls of her feet to minimise the lift of the muzzle.

She curled her index finger around the face of the trigger until it nested in the perfect spot.

At the bottom of her exhalation, with just the amount of pressure necessary, no more no less, she smoothly pressed the trigger straight back to the rear.

The sharp report rang in her ears. As the muzzle lifted from the recoil, she kept her focus on the top of the front sight,  and maintained alignment with the invisible thread that was pulled tight from her eye, completing her follow throughprecisely at the same time as her bullet hit its mark.

All of this happened, seamlessly, without hesitation, within fractions of a second. In situations such as these time and space had no meaning.

She had just triggered, pun intended, a chain of events that she hoped wouldn’t end in bloodshed. But if it did, she had faith that it wouldn’t be theirs.

The two men fell to the ground, already reaching to draw their own weapons. Without a second thought, she adjusted her aim and stance toward the vehicle that was now passing by the store front. Its window was rolled down and she could see the barrel of a large handgun materialise from the darkness. A shot fired in their direction. She didn’t bother noting the make and model of the gun. Most likely an illegal side arm. Her whole process started from the beginning once more, this time with the anticipation that she may have multiple targets to shoot between.

Her next shot hit the barrel of the weapon before it could pull a second round.

She stole a quick glance at the two men on the ground. Shit. Rather than lining up with the shooters in the car, the older gentleman immediately turned his head in her direction. He was looking for the original shooter. He was good, he nearly zeroed in on her exact location despite gunfire coming from two separate sources. She weighed her options. She could pull back so as not to be seen, but if she did, she would no longer have sight on the car. She could not be certain that they had been incapacitated and without being certain, she couldn’t drop her cover fire position. It would leave the two men vulnerable.

With misgiving, she stayed in place. And, fuck, for a split second their eyes met. She and the car both pulled off one last shot, hers hitting, theirs missing the mark before the vehicle decided that the unknown in the equation was more than they had bargained for. They sped off without her getting a good look at the passengers. They were banking on the element of surprise but she had knocked all of their chips off the table before they could cash out.

Gunfire, uncommon in the streets of London, especially in high traffic, upscale areas like Saville Row, would definitely be suspicious. Reports would be made to the police. She wasn’t sure what the protocol for the two Kingsman were, if they would handle the situation as civilians or remain under the cover of Kingsman, which operated outside the rules of law. She wasn’t waiting around to find out.

She holstered her weapon, adjusted her face and body to a person of no significance or consequence, turned, and took her leave in the opposite direction.

----If you got this far, thanks for reading! First time for a posting a longer fanfic. Apologies for any first timer quirks. Let me know what you think! Liked it, loved it, hated it, burn it, no worries, all feedback is welcome. (but of course, I hope you had at least kinda an enjoyable time.) ALWAYS FEEL FREE TO REBLOG or send to someone who might be interested.

[poeedamerons]

contigo aquí (como un perro fiel)

Read it on A03 

Carlos couldn’t blame anyone but himself for his current predicament. TK was beyond clear when they met - and on later dates - that he wasn’t looking for a relationship. He was looking for something casual: an outlet of all his anxiety, a distraction from the chaos inside his mind and heart. It hurt Carlos to be just a warm body, another notch on his bedpost and to know that what they share is just one of the many things TK does to feel something other than numb.

He thinks about the night he processed TK down at the station and his stomach churns at the thought that the fight might have got the other man closer to his goal than any moment they ever shared together.

TK’s a hurricane and Carlos never stood a chance. No matter how many times people warned him, hell, he even tried to stay away outside work calls, but TK's pull is stronger than any man he’s ever met.

Carlos stupid heart couldn’t help but fall for those puppy green eyes and boyish charm. He was truly a goner the moment he first saw TK on that fateful call. TK’s eyes had sparkled under the moonlight like glistening emeralds and his self satisfied grin was blinding, capable of lighting up the darkness. He was the most beautiful, wild thing Carlos has ever seen.

That night Carlos wished nothing more than to have that man look at him like that someday, but as things stood, the world had other plans for Carlos Reyes and TK Strand so he told himself he could bury his feelings and keep their friends with benefits arrangement going, because half TK was better than no TK at all and Carlos can't’ help but hold onto the hope that maybe the handsome firefighter would change his mind at some point and would see how perfect they are for each other and take on Carlos’ earlier date invitations.

Carlos of course knew better than to scare TK or make him feel pressured. Carlos isn’t like that, but with TK’s bad breakup, substance abuse history and his father’s cancer he knows he needs to be extra careful. Luckily to him, patience is one of his virtues and TK is worthy of all gentle care on this earth and Carlos is more than happy to become the firefighter's safe haven.

They’ve come a long way into their arrangement, but they are still nowhere near where Carlos wants them to truly be.

He sometimes allows his mind to trick itself into believing they are together, that all the times they meet up to go clubbing or to eat are dates between boyfriends, and not TK’s carefree way to be now that his life seemed to be stable enough. He even likes to think he helped TK reach that level of balance, but he knows he is kept at arm's length no matter how much he longs for the intimacy of a relationship and to be able to kiss his green eyed lover senseless whenever he feels like it.

But Carlos lives for those tiny moments where he can let go and be the lovesick fool he turned himself into. When TK smiles brightly at him before bumping their noses together, when they tease each other in and outside the bedroom, when they spend hours talking just about anything and nothing. In these moments everything else ceases to exist and TK is his whole world.

He knows how self destructive this is and he hates that he’s allowing himself to become this way, to get himself stuck into a relationship that is going nowhere but he really cannot put into words how easy it was to fall in love for TK. The other man had no idea the effect he could have on people, the effect he had on him. If this is what drug addicts felt, Carlos had a new level of empathy because he couldn’t help but come back for more.

He’s in deep, so deep Michelle started worrying he might be drowning. And the thing is, after a year, Carlos has to admit that he is. He is drowning in this mess and he can’t help but feel utterly defeated. He knows he isn’t perfect and can make a list of his flaws, but he knows he is a good looking guy, has a controversial but very community centered job that pays his bills and allows him to have a nice place and car and he is also pretty charming, if he can say so.

He’s been told many times he is made of boyfriend material, and while he never allowed that to get to his head...it seems that he either wasn’t the kind of boyfriend material TK was looking for or TK wasn’t really looking for one at all, and Carlos had to face the facts that he is either going to keep drowning until he spins out of control or he call it quits and focus on healing his heart.

The idea of ending them is like a gut punch for so many reasons, because it would mean to admit that TK has always been so close, but always so far out of his reach and nothing he did ever really changed that. He just sent himself deeper and deeper into heart break.

It’s a tough call, but one he has to make. Carlos takes a deep, sobering breath and sends TK a quick message asking if he is doing anything after his shift today. He presses send before he can chicken out and sets it on his table, trying to contain the anxiety that comes with waiting for an answer.

Sometimes he gets quick replies, sometimes it takes hours. Carlos at least knows it’s not because TK is ignoring him but because he might be on a call and too busy to check his messages. His phone vibrates with an incoming text message and it’s TK answering him back.

I’m free, wanna meet up?

Yes. Carlos texts back. Can we meet at the coffee shop by the fire station?

He thinks it's better to choose a public space, somewhere where they could talk somewhat privately, but where TK wouldn’t feel trapped.

Sure, see you there.

Now, all Carlos has to do is survive the excruciating hours until the end of both of their shifts and get this over with. He knew he was doing the right thing, even if his heart would break into a million pieces while doing it.

-----------

Carlos has to be honest, he had no idea what TK’s reaction would be, but he really wasn’t expecting TK to freeze across from him when he finally finishes his speech, one that he spent the rest of his shift carefully crafting and rendered him absolutely useless for any work.

Uneasiness fills the pit of his stomach and he can hear the hammering of his beating heart, like it wants to break free from it’s cage, but Carlos waits for TK to speak up first. The silence that fills their table isn’t an awkward one because Carlos knows TK and he knows the other man sometimes just needs a few minutes to process things and react. He is aware that this is something T.K worked hard on with his therapist, a method to keep himself from relapsing and Carlos not only respects that, but is supportive of TK’s efforts and needs.

“Is it something I did?” TK asks, his brows furrowing like he was presented with a really hard puzzle.

Carlos is caught off guard with the question. “TK,” he exhales, struggling to get the right words out. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” it was more of what T.K did not do or is unwilling to do. Still, he leans in the table, his fingers gripping his coffee cup for dear life.

TK’s green eyes were focused on him and Carlos has to fight the shiver that wants to run up his spine.

“I just…” am helplessly in love with you and I can’t bear it any longer that you don’t want me back his traitorous mind completes, but Carlos knows he just can’t impose his unrequited feelings on TK anymore but he really couldn’t find a legitimate reason for it. “Don’t want to do this anymore. I’m sorry,” Carlos swallows the lump on his throat. He breaks his gaze from TK’s for a sobering breath. His chest feels tight and he can feel blood rushing through his veins. “I just wanted to tell you in person and make sure we are good,” Carlos gathers the courage to look at TK and commit his angelic face to memory.

There is slight crease on TK’s brows, but he remains quiet, as if waiting for Carlos to go on.

He wet his lips. “We will still see each other on a regular basis because of work and I didn’t want things to be weird. We have a lot of people counting on us.”

“Oh…” He hears TK’s gasp. “If that’s what you want, I guess all I have to say is…. Thank you?” Carlos has no idea what to say to that, he is even more confused on why TK’s eyes look a little hurt and bewildered, but his face and voice don’t betray much.

“So, we’re good?” He asks, clearing his voice.

“Yeah,” TK’s answers back after a few moments of silence. “We’re good”. Looking at the man across from him, Carlos catches a glimpse of a smile on TK’s pink lips as he speaks. It feels like a twisting knife to his heart.

“Good,” Carlos is fighting the tears that are threatening to spill, getting up from his seat. “I have to go, I promised Michelle I would help her go through some stuff on her sister’s case.” He gives TK what he hopes is a smile, but he is sure it’s closer to a grimace. Honestly, he couldn’t care less, he just needs to leave . “See you around?” He asks over his shoulder, in a last attempt at looking composed.

“Of course, Officer,” TK answers, throwing him one of his boyish, signature winks.

Carlos sobs all the way home.

-----------

He avoids any contact with the 126 for at least a week, which is nothing short of a miracle considering how much their paths cross during calls, but somehow Carlos manages to go an entire week without crossing paths with a single member of the AFD, without it looking like it was intentional.

While a week is not long enough to lick his wounds and start picking up the pieces of his heart, it's a start . It's more than he could possibly have managed on his own and there was no way he was going to jeopardize his job just because of a boy, even if said boy is probably the love of his life.

Michelle had been acting as his emotional crutch and Carlos couldn’t be more thankful for her friendship, but the void TK left in his life was not one that was going to be easily filled or forgotten. But it was nice to have someone taking care of him like that.

It’s not like Carlos isn’t expecting for them to meet on a call, he is, but he isn’t as ready as he believed himself to be. Watching TK in all his fireman glory, removing his helmet as his hair is blown by the wind and his eyes glint with excitement is harder than he ever anticipated. His heart tugs, his feelings for TK unchanged since their last meeting.

When their eyes meet, Carlos is ready for the awkwardness that follows, but it never comes. TK acts like his normal self and while it hurts, it’s clear that Carlos is the only one with his heart on the line. He is at least comforted by the fact that he made the right decision and should focus on forgetting TK Strand forever.

-----------

Carlos has no idea how he got dragged in this group date thing in this day and age, but there he was, at their regular bar, surrounded by coworkers and Sarah’s brother in law Michael. Sarah has tried setting them up before, but Carlos has always brushed off because of TK, but finally gave in.

Michael turns out to be pretty dreamy. He is good looking, has a nice 9 to 5, non-life threatening job and is very fun to be around. Carlos finds himself bent over in laughter several times during the night and is enjoying himself. He even allows his mind to wonder if this could be the guy that would finally take his heart and soul away from TK.

The sound of raucous laughter attracts Carlos gaze and he freezes as if a bucket of ice had been thrown over his head, because he caught sight of Mateo and Marjan and knows it is a matter of seconds before TK follows suit.

It's been four months, but seeing TK is never easy for him. Especially today, when he is - for the first time in months - on a date with a man he is currently hoping that might be just the cure he needs for TK Strand.

“Is everything okay?” Michael asks worried.

“Yes,” Carlos answers back, turning his gaze back to the man in front of him. “I just kind of lost myself with the noise.” He jokes, hoping to brush it off as distraction. The smile Michael gives him back shows him he was successful.

-----------

Carlos has no idea how the fight started. One minute he was line dancing with Michael, rolling with laughter. The next there’s people screaming, Michael on the ground and TK looking pretty angry with bruised fingers.

A crowd filled with angry voices closes them in and Carlos starts to worry that an even bigger fight between first responders might break out if this situation isn’t controlled. He makes his way to Michael, helping him up as the blond man holds onto his bleeding nose in a lousy attempt to stem it, thankfully Michelle is right behind him, ready to take charge of the situation.

He helps Michael sit on a chair and allows Michelle to do her thing. Asking the other man if he is alright is pointless, after all he just got punched on the nose, but he squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.

“I will check out if everyone is okay,” He absolutely lies to Michelle and his date, which is something he hates but he really needs to see if TK’s is alright and he isn’t about to tell them that. “I will be right back.” He releases the man's shoulders and receives a quick nod from Michael, and Michelle is too busy looking his date over to catch him on his lie.

He scans the sea of people inside the bar and TK is nowhere to be found. He sees some members of the 126, but decides against asking them where or even what happened. At least not yet. He doesn’t think he can process that at the moment. He chooses to make it through the crowd and towards the door, hoping TK might have run outside.

The cold night air hits Carlos in the face but all he can think about is finding where TK is. He scans the parking lot and his eyes zero on TK’s silhouette huching against Captain Strand’s car, grumbling what Carlos thinks is a string of curses. He almost smiles at the sight.

He makes his way to the other man, shoving his hands in the pocket of his jeans.

“Hey,” He calls out as he gets closer, alerting TK of his arrival and before he can get closer, TK starts to walk away. Carlos furrows his brow and lets out a sigh. So this is how’s going to be, huh? “TK,” He calls again, this time walking faster to catch up to him. “TK, wait up!” Really? They were going to play this game? Because Carlos was beyond tired of playing games and before TK could make a run Carlos wraps his fingers around TK’s arms. His grip firm enough to make TK pause, but not enough to hurt the other man or even trap him.

“What?” T.K’s snarls and Carlos is taken back by his tone, releasing his grip in shock. He has never seen or even heard TK sound like that and he is momentarily lost for words. He has seen TK after a fight and knows how the other man gets moody, but he can’t comprehend what motivated TK this time. He dreads even thinking TK might be relapsing.

“What do you mean with ‘what’, TK?” His voice is tight and for the first time in his life, his patience with the other man is running thin. “You punched Michael completely unprovoked. What the hell was that?” His piercing glance was trained in TK, but only when the other man raises his hands to his hair he remembers the bruised knuckles. “And you,” He huffs, annoyed. “Didn’t even get your hands looked at. How do you think it’s going to be tomorrow when you have to work?” God he was really annoyed at how TK could be so reckless with his health.

“Why do you care?” TK starts, with thinly veiled sarcasm. TK’s green eyes meet Carlos brown eyes with renewed anger. “Shouldn’t you be with - what’s his name again?” TK snorts sarcastically and Carlos could see him pretending to think it over. “Whatever is his name. Your new boytoy. Why don’t you go back to him and leave me alone?” TK expression turned sour, voice laced with poison.

Carlos sure as hell never seen TK acting like this, but he is not going to back down now. He can’t allow TK to go on like this.

“TK - fuck ,” His voice wavered. “You just can’t go around punching people, what’s gotten into you?” h e jabs his finger into TK’s chest. “I just… I can’t…” He runs his fingers through his hair as frustration settles in. “You make no sense. I don’t understand you at all. You are acting like a jealous boyfriend or somethi-” and it hits him, like a wave during a storm, unexpectedly but with such turbulent force that Carlos almost loses his footing.

TK was jealous. TK was jealous of him and Michael at the bar. That is why he picked the fight. Why he punched Michael. And unquestionably the reason why he was acting like a petty child during this whole conversation. The realization is staggering and Carlos for a moment feels like everything around him is in slow motion and the sounds of passing by cars seems like miles away.

“Are you jealous?” Carlos asks dumbfounded, because he needs to hear it from TK’s lips to believe it, even if all the clues lead to only one possible answer.

The guilty look on TK’s face and how his shoulders hunch tell Carlos that he is indeed right and Carlos hearts leaps with hope, set aflame by the possibility that TK might have feelings for him, like he always dreamed.

“TK,” He calls, this time his voice is soft and cajoling. He gets closer to the other man, his fingers trailing down TK’s arm to intertwine their fingers.

“I’m not jealous,” TK’s answer with a whisper and Carlos has to bite back a smile.

“Oh, so you punched a civilian just because you felt like it?” He asked, amused. No one could blame Carlos for enjoying this situation, okay? “I’m waiting, TK.”

Carlos can see him chewing on his lip before sighing, staring at the ground as if he had been defeated. “Fine, I’m jealous, okay?” TK continues as though on a roll, chuckling bitterly. “And today was karma, wasn't it? I’m being punished for pushing away the best thing that ever happened to me because I'm a coward.” He swallows.

“TK-”

“I was blind-sided. When you broke up with me. I didn’t see it coming. I just… hated losing you. I thought that I couldn’t have any serious relationship after everything that happened back in NY, but that wasn’t true. Because there was you, Carlos. You just showed up right on day one, swept me off my feet and -” he says, swallowing a painful lump. “Was just perfect. Everything I ever wanted. And then I lost you. And I didn’t know how to get you back because you ended things and I thought… I thought you just didn’t want me anymore. I was hurt, because I love you so much it hurts, Carlos” TK licks his lips. “And today you were with him, moving on and I just couldn’t - I just saw how happy you two were and I just saw red. So yeah, I’m jealous. Happy? Now go back inside to your date.” TK’s admits, looking a bit pained.

Carlos head is swimming with TK’s admission, so many feelings and so much information to process, everything is crowding together, screaming and jostling for attention that he feels once again in the night paralysed. But in the back of his brain he has the power to squeeze T.K’s hand in reassurance and leans in so their foreheads are touching. He can feel TK’s labored breath on his cheeks.

He could scream with happiness because TK laid his heart bare and is in love with him.

“TK,” he starts, his voice surprisingly firm for how vulnerable he is feeling himself right now. He refuses to move from their position and can sense TK stiffen, nerving himself for a rejection. “You are such an idiot,” He starts and can feel TK pulling back, but he stands his ground. “How can you think I have been anything but crazy for you since the day we met?” He smiles against TK’s nose. “I have been in love with you for months. The only reason I ended things with you is because I couldn’t keep it casual anymore. I want you all to myself.”

And then TK is all around him and his mouth is hot and surprisingly soft, dragging over Carlos’s lips again and again until Carlos can’t help but moan loudly, his mouth fall open for TK’s onslaught. He presses Carlos body forward against a nearby truck and TK’s fingers slide up Carlos back, touching him under his green henley.

“TK, I, fuck,” TK moans and the sound goes straight to Carlos dick, making his blood fizz wildly inside him. “Okay,” He pushes the other man. “We need to stop.” TK whines and Carlos chuckles.

“I know, cariño.” Carlos fingers touch the side of TK’s cheek. “But we need to get back inside, let Michelle take a look at your hand and then I am going to take you back to my place and have my dirty way with you.” He bites TK’s earlobe before pulling away, laughing at his expression.

“Must we?” TK asks, pouting his lips, hoping that would weaken Carlos resolve.

“Yes,” Carlos answers leaning in for a quick peck in the lips and pulls TK by the hand towards the bar entrance.

“Already boyfriending me, hun?” TK teases, eyes lit with joy.

“Oh, you haven't seen anything yet. I’m going to take care of you so hard, cariño.” A broad grin spread across Carlos' face, but his eyes soft.

TK smiles brightly. “Can’t wait.”

[megumis-lashes]

Love Bites!

Vampire! Han Jisung x Reader Part 3 (Final part)

**Contains**: mentions of blood/blood drinking, parental abuse, bullying, fighting, slight swearing, emotional abuse, friends to lovers, werewolf Hyunjin, western high school standards, female reader

Flashback =

> Hello

Jisung’s POV

As much as I was overjoyed at how similar name and I were, I was struggling to hold back my anger. I had already been skeptical on what name had been up to throughout the time she stayed at my place, but hearing about the torture she went through the past few weeks was the breaking straw for me. I was furious. Thankfully I was able to have a solid conversation with her in which I rarely had to lie. Well I wasn’t really lying, more just describing my life while keeping it pretty vague. Yes, I am under a lot of pressure from my parents but it’s for slightly different reasons. I’m the next successor in one of the oldest and most powerful bloodlines in all history. A vampiric blood line. These blood lines are thousands of years older than any human bloodline. My family in particular was responsible for keeping balance among the ‘supernatural communities’. My position was so important that if were to fail in some way, a war between supernaturals and eventually humans could break out. It’s not an understatement to say I’m under a lot of pressure.

After watching a movie with name, she fell asleep on the couch. I carried her to her room and as promised, I finished her homework for her. The last thing I had to do for her was save her record. Before I went to sleep that night I made a small plan as to how I would deal with the bullies.

The next day name and I walked to school together. It was strange to say the least. I hadn’t walked with anyone before so I was worried it would be awkward. Thankfully it wasn’t. She seemed to be an extremely good mood but I could tell she was still a bit anxious about her grades.

“Look name, I promised to take care of it ok! You don’t need to worry! Your grades will be back to perfect by the end of the day!” I comforted her as I threw my arm over her shoulder.

“Alright if you say so.” She chuckled. “I’m really in debt to you aren’t I. You’ve helped me so much I have no idea how to pay you back!” She chided as she rubbed her neck bashfully.

“Name! I’ve told you not to worry about it! The only thing you need to do to pay me back is be my friend!” I exclaimed as we neared the school gates. Her cheeks warmed a bit and she adverted her eye contact from mine. If I had the capability to blush, I’d probably be blushing as well. We arrived at the school gates.

“Ha if you say so! Do you want me to meet you here after school?” She questioned.

“No, no I have something to do after school and I’m not sure how long it will take. Meet me at home?” I would convince the bullies to leave her alone after school but I didn’t want name to know.

“Ok if you say so!” She chided as she started walking through the gates.

“Here I’ll walk you to class!”

“But what about them-“

“Don’t worry about it! They’re just jealous! Try your best to ignore them and if it’s really bothering you I’ll talk to them about it!”

“Alright.”

Name was talking about the jealous stares and whispers that would fill the hallways each time someone ‘popular’ came around. I knew it bothered her as on the first day she was incredibly anxious. I learned to just drown out the noise.

After classes were ended I began to walk back to my locker. I quickly packed my bag and began searching the halls. I needed to find those girls and have a little chat with them. I couldn’t let them continue to hurt people out of jealousy. It was pathetic. I found them huddled around their ‘leader’s’ locker, chatting about the day. I tapped the leader on her shoulder, effectively causing her to jerk around facing me.

“Hi your Mia right?” I questioned keeping my ignorant act up.

“Yes. Did you need something?” She giggled. She was clearly enthused that I wanted to talk to her. He shrill giggles were painful to my sensitive hearing.

“Yes. Would you and your friends mind talking outside? I have some questions to ask you.” I tried to act as nonchalantly as possible.

“Sure!” Well that was easier than I thought. I guess they really are blinded by ‘love’. I led the girls outside to a small clearing in the back of the school. I knew that no one would interrupt us there. Once I was sure they were there to listen, I broke my ignorant act and glared at them with an icy stare. They were still trying to keep their ‘nice girl’ act.

“You wouldn’t happen to be those girl who have been bothering name right?” I questioned, a sly smile on my face.

“Oh whatever it’s not like anyone cares about her. We were just putting her back in her place. She can’t always be at the top of the school.” Their ‘leader’ Mia snapped. It didn’t take much for her to get angry. Her ‘nice girl’ act was quickly left behind.

“Are you serious? Do you know how hard she worked to get where she was? Huh? You don’t know even half of the hardships she’s had to face!” I shouted. I was furious.

“Oh? And what do you care? What is she your girlfriend or something? Don’t make me laugh!” She broke out into a small fit of laughter.

“And what if she was huh? What would you do about it? Oh that’s right I know! You’d blackmail her into staying away from her friends and threaten to ruin everything she’s built for herself!” I countered.

“No way she told you? Haha! You think your little speech will change my mind? I can just as easily ruin you!” She continued to chuckle as she wiped small tears of laughter from her eyes.

“Not on my watch.” I mumbled, blinking my eyes more heavily than normal.

As I blinked them open, the girls gasped in shock. My eyes were a blazing red, my pupils shrunken into the slits of a predator. As I opened him mouth to speak, the girls could see the slight glint of the light on my fangs. I made sure to put on a show for them.

“Has anyone ever taught you that actions have consequences?” I growled. As I shifted slightly forward, the girls cowered back in fear. “What are you!” The girls screamed.

“I’m your worst nightmare.” I smirked. This was kind of fun.

The two girls scrambled away in fear, leaving their ‘leader’ to fend for herself. She shouted back in retaliation, furious that her disciples valued themselves more than her.

“I’m willing to make a compromise with you. None of us have to get hurt.” I mumbled as I leaned against the wall.

“W-what is it?” She asked as she shivered.

“If you promise to leave name alone and never bother her again, then I won’t feel the need to hurt you or your friends.” I scoffed.

“Fine. Just don’t touch me you monster!” I cringed at the name. It brought back bad memories.

“Oh and you are to never mention what you saw here today. You tell no one what you’ve seen me look like. Make sure your little friends don’t start spreading rumors either.” I sighed. The last thing I needed were more conspiracy theories about me.

“Whatever. You win. Just don’t hurt me.” She mumbled as she began to collect herself and run away. I sighed. This week was really difficult.

Name’s POV

Time passed fast. Jisung and I grew closer over the weeks I stayed at his house. We bonded over what I thought were completely negative topics to me. It’s strange how friendship works. At the same time I finally started talking to Hyunjin again. I explained the situation to him and he was furious but then saddened by the fact I didn’t trust him enough to tell him anything about my family. He offered to let me stay at his house out of kindness and competition, as he an Jisung seemed to have some form of dislike for each other. I brushed it off as some childish, competitive thing but some of their interactions were a bit strange. Despite them agreeing to act civil around each other when in front of me, I could still see the icy stares they gave each other when they thought I wasn’t looking.

Compared to my previously hectic life, everything seemed to be a lot less stressful now. It was fall, nearing Halloween, and school was nearing fall testing. Jisung had dealt with my bullies in some magical way. I didn’t see them at all and they never bothered me again. The only reminder of their existence was a small note left in my locker. I found it a few days after Jisung had told them off. It was a short note written on a cute pastel card. The girl’s name was Aimee. In the letter she expressed how sorry she was for not helping me out. She explained how the other two girls had persuaded her to be ‘friends’ with them, although they didn’t treat her that way. She was their little errand girl whom they had also blackmailed in the past. The note was sweet so I thanked her for it and asked if she wanted to be friends. She accepted and we often studied together. The only thing that was seeming out of place in this situation was her handwriting on the note. It was messy and looked rushed, almost as if she was writing quickly out of fear. When I asked Aimee about it she said she was simply late for class and was rushing. Maybe I was just looking to far into it? I would’ve dismissed it entirely if it weren’t for Jisung’s description of what happened.

> “Hey Jisung? I mumbled.

> “Hmm?” He hummed as he glanced my way. It was the day after he had ‘taken care of’ my bullies and I was curious.

> “How did you take care of the bullies? It’s been a full 24 hours and I haven’t even caught a glimpse of one of them.”

> “Oh I just uh... scared them a bit a guess.” He chuckled.

> “Huh? Wait you didn’t blackmail them back did you? Jisung!” I shouted as I leaned forward from my spot on the couch.

> “No haha.. I wouldn’t call it black mail. Think of it as a negotiation of sorts. I’m just so good at my social skills I managed to convince them to leave you alone!” He chided.

> “You think I believe that? Hah just say you blackmailed them I won’t tell! Plus what could you have even said? I mean what’s worse than being kicked out of school?” I questioned.

> “Come on Name I told you I didn’t blackmail them! Just forget about it. It doesn’t matter how it happened just be happy they left you alone.”

> Sensing the slight irritation in his voice I decided to leave it alone.

This whole interaction seemed strange to me. Why wouldn’t he feel comfortable telling me what happened? He couldn’t have done something wrong could he? As much as I wanted an answer, I dismissed it as unimportant. The only issue was Jisung began to act very odd. As it neared the end of the month, I saw him less and less. Whenever I questioned him about it, he simply said he was busy with extra school work and errands. I sure as hell didn’t believe him now. Despite his family’s problems, they were never super focused on Jisung’s grades. He wasn’t a bad student but he definitely didn’t care enough about school to voluntarily spend extra time doing work.

It was a cool Friday in late October. Tomorrow was Halloween. Jisung and I had agreed to watch horror movies tomorrow in Halloween spirit. Despite the recent positive events in my life, I was still on edge. Something was out of place. Jisung had been spending less time at home and his excuses became more and more suspicious. I wanted to dismiss the whole idea but it was still nagging at the back of my mind. It was nearing 9:30 PM. Jisung had told me he was going out with friends today and would be home a bit later than normal. I wondered how long he would be out for.

Bored out of my mind I knew I had to do something. I was beginning to feel anxious and I needed to shake off the feeling. I decided to go for a small walk to get hot chocolate from the small shop in town. I quickly grabbed an oversized hoodie, that just so happened to belong to Jisung, and threw on some boots. I grabbed some cash from my wallet and began to walk to the shop. As much as I hoped the cool air would calm me, walking in the night seemed to give the opposite effect than I wished for. It was pitch black, the only light source being the glowing full moon. For some reason the streets that were typically bustling with some amount of people at all times were empty. No was was around. It was quiet, almost too quiet. Suddenly I heard a ‘howl’ from behind me. The loud noise cut through the silence like butter. I shivered, picking up my pace. I could hear growling from behind me as I walked. I was terrified. My quick pace quickly morphed into a sprint as I dashed across the street to the shop doors. I was almost there. Despite the hot breath I could feel at my ankles, I dared not to look back. I didn’t have anything with me to defend myself this time. Upon reaching the shop doors I slammed inside, shocking the few people at the store.

“Is something wrong miss?” The store clerk questioned my dramatic entry. I knew no one would believe my wild animal story so I quickly made up an excuse.

“Ahh I’m sorry! You see I’m in track and cross country and I like to time myself on how long it takes me to run to certain places! Don’t mind me!” I awkwardly rubbed my neck as I slipped into the store. I quickly put together a small hot chocolate and payed for it. I wanted to get home as soon as possible. As I left the store in a light jog, I decided to take a different way home.

My breathing was cut off short as I was slammed into an alley wall. I had been stupid enough to take a back way through an alley. No one would hear me if I called for help. The thing that had slammed me into the wall was what I assumed to be the same animal that had chased me. It was a jet black creature, its features resembling those of a wolf. It was growing and snarling above me. I was wondering as to why it didn’t kill me yet. Surely it was capable of such an act.

“Hyunjin, come on. You know I never agreed to baby sit you all day, but I don’t think your parents would appreciate it if you murdered some girl in an ally way.” I knew that voice. It was Jisung. And he mentioned Hyunjin? What would they be doing over here? My thoughts were cut short when a person, who I could only assume was Jisung, walked towards the creature in front of me. He seemingly ‘chopped’ the creatures neck, effectively knocking the creature to the ground. As the creature fell to the ground, I was met with the face of the boy I had spent my time with lately, Han Jisung.

The usually hyper boy looked like completely different now. He wore a black sweatshirt and jeans along with black combat boots. His appearance was rather disheveled. The most disturbing features of all were how inhuman he looked. He had piercing red eyes, his pupils shrunken to the slits of a predator. He had blood all over his face, more specifically trailing from the corner of his mouth. His sweatshirt was torn in multiple places, the one that stood out the most were the long claw shaped tears. Through the holes I could see his skin glimmer with blood. He had been wounded somehow.

“N-name?” He stuttered. “What are you doing out here at night?” I shivered. I had no idea how to react to the images in front of me. I was shocked to say the least.

“I c-could ask you the same thing J-jisung! What are you doing?” I questioned. I had never been more confused and concerned.

“Uuhhh..” He scratched his neck nervously. “It’s hard to explain. But it’s not as bad as it looks ok! I’ll explain when we get home....but first....” he mumbled avoiding eye contact.

“Huh?” I was still extremely confused. I didn’t want to just jump to conclusions but he didn’t exactly look innocent. Seeing the confusion etched on my face, Jisung sighed and pointed to the ground. I glanced down and nearly collapsed out of shock. On the ground was Hwang Hyunjin. He looked almost five times as disheveled as Jisung. He was clad in black as well. His shirt was in shreds leaving him practically shirtless. The most shocking detail was his wolf like featured. He had patches of pitch black fur scattered across his skin paired with black ears and tail. From what I could tell he also had fangs. He was sound asleep on the ground.

“Could you help me carry him home? He won’t wake up for at least 24 hours and I could really use your help.” Jisung pleaded. I stumbled back into the wall, almost tripping over my own feet. Then I started chuckling which eventually built into a full blown laughing fit.

“Ji-Jisung! Haha! This is the most elaborate prank I’ve ever seen! It’s hilarious honestly! You just wanted to scare me for Halloween huh! But I’m curious as to how you did it! Hyunjin’s costume looked so realistic!” I squeezed out between laughs. When I looked up I saw Jisung. He had the most dead pan expression on his face.

“Name, we’re not joking or pranking you for that matter.” He stated. I shuffled, my laughter trailing into silence.

“Huh? You’re kidding me.” I didn’t want to believe it.

“Look name, I really don’t want to explain everything in a dark alleyway. If you can help me bring Hyunjin home I promise I’ll explain everything thoroughly.” He began reaching for Hyunjin’s body.

“Please name.” He pleaded, making eye contact for the first time that night. His eyes were still a fiery red.

“Alright, but you sure as hell better explain everything.” I mumbled as I threw Hyunjin’s right arm over my shoulder.

Carrying Hyunjin home was just as difficult as Jisung said. He was taller than both of us and didn’t exactly weigh nothing. It took a solid half an hour to carry him to Jisung’s house. We brought him to another guest room and closed the door. Out of exhaustion, we both collapsed on his sofa.

“Ok Han, explain.” I stated as I made eye contact with him. He was still covered in blood and his hoodie was still iin shreds.

“Actually let me fix your wounds first.” I quickly went to grab a first aid kit and a wet towel. I handed him the towel and told him to wash his face.

“Lift up your sweatshirt I’ll clean your stomach wounds.” I bashfully looked away.

“No don’t worry about those. They’ll heal on their own.” He waved his hands in front of him.

“Jisung those wounds are deep. If I don’t clean them they’ll get infected.” I pushed up his sweatshirt myself, blushing at the contact, and washed his wounds with the towel.

“Name I’m serious you don’t need to do anything! Give them a minute and they’ll be gone!” He pleaded.

“I told you these wounds are deep! You could die if they get infected!” He shook his head and nodded towards the wounds. I went to continue checking them to see something surprising. The wounds were gone. The only sign that they were there at all were the slight scars that remained.

“See I told you not to worry. I don’t die that easily.” He murmured. “The scarring should go away in a couple hours.” I blinked in shock. I sat back on the couch.

“Somehow you now have even more to explain.” I stated, rolling my eyes.

“Alright I’ll explain. But you have to promise me you won’t laugh.” He crossed his arms.

“Fine.” I was ready to hear his explanation.

“Alright so I’ll start from the beginning. I’m not human. I’m what you humans would call a ‘vampire’ as dumb as it must sound.” He sighed and rubbed his neck. “I drink blood for survival but not from humans, from animals. I honestly don’t like it but I would die if I didn’t. I’m the next successor of my family’s blood line, I wasn’t lying when I said that. My parents have always been ‘peace keepers’ of sorts. I have to be strong enough to take the position. It’s a lot of pressure.” He paused to massage his temples. This was clearly difficult for him to explain. “About what you saw today, it’s a full moon. Most ‘supernaturals’ like me are at full strength on full moons as cliche as it sounds. Most typically hunt on those days. For my physical features of course you’ve seen my eyes and healing abilities but I also have fangs of course.” He opened his mouth to show me.

“What about Hyunjin? Is he a werewolf or something?” I chuckled. I was more amused than scared at this point.

“Actually you’re correct! He’s a werewolf, in a similar position to me. He’s the next alpha of his pack. The only issue is he’s terrible at controlling his wolf, especially on full moon days. I’m typically assigned to watch over him on those days, despite the feud between vampires and werewolves.” He explained.

“Wow.” I was at a loss of words. Despite all this I still wasn’t scared. I knew neither of them would try to harm me, at least not out of free will. I was just shocked as all.

“Look name I’m really sorry for keeping this all from you! It’s hard to explain and I understand if you don’t want to be friends-“ I quickly cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick peck was enough to make him stop talking.

“Jisung!” I giggled. “You don’t how to worry about it I understand! I know neither of you would harm me and I can see that this is a difficult topic to explain! I’m here for you just like you are there for me!” I smiled. I was happy he trusted me enough to explain this. He blinked in shock. Still processing that I had just kissed him. He quickly broke from his trance and rubbed his neck bashfully.

“Wow I didn’t expect you to take it that well. I honestly thought you would hate me.” He chuckled

“Come on I could never hate you! I do like you after all!” I’m not sure how this conversation ended with a confession, but for some reason I was feeling confident.

“Really? You can like me even while knowing what I really am?” He questioned in disbelief.

“Yep! You’re still Jisung aren’t you?” I giggled.

“Well in that case I like you too!” This time he kissed me effectively stopping me from laughing.

For the rest of that night we watched Halloween theme movies, some of which Jisung ruined by claiming they were all false. Everything seemed fine until we finished the second movie. It was really late now and I was close to passing out. Jisung got up and began to put his shoes and coat on.

“Jisung where are you going it’s really late?” I questioned, rubbing my eyes to stay awake.

“Well you see I was watching Hyunjin the whole time and didn’t have much time to hunt. I’m really hungry.” He confessed while scratching his neck, I nervous habit he would constantly lean into.

“This late though? It’s not safe!” I began to walk to him.

“Name you know I can hold my own ground. I’ll be quick I promise!” He waved his hands in front of him.

“Why don’t you just eat here?” I questioned.

“From where-“ I cut him off.

“From me! I promised to help you! You can drink from me!” I proclaimed. The look on his face said other wise.

“No no absolutely not happening! I never drink from people! I don’t want to hurt you!” He frantically dismissed my idea.

“I know you won’t hurt me! Plus I can always tap you if it becomes to much! Pleassseee! I promise I’ll be ok!” I really wanted him to stay here. Despite his strength, walking outside in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly safe.

“Alright but just this one time! And only a little!” He still didn’t look very convinced. We walked to his sofa and sat down.

“Alright so how does this work?” I asked tilting my head in confusion.

“So I’ll just bite your neck. It will be slightly painful at first but it’ll fade. I’ll be quick I promise. Are you sure you want to do this?” He questioned out of concern.

“I’m sure! I’ll be fine ‘Sung you don’t need to worry!”

He gulped and gently turned my head, giving him greater access to my neck. He brought his face to the area. I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain. He bit down. As he described there was a slight prick of pain but it quickly dissipated. It evolved into a feeling of numbness. It felt kind of nice. We sat there for a few minutes until Jisung pulled away.

“Are you alright?” He questioned, staring into my eyes.

“I’m fine.” I smiled. “I am really tired though.” I yawned. He nodded. He stood up and grabbed a cup of water and a bandaid. As I was drinking the water he placed the bandaid over my small wound. He kissed my forehead and led me to bed.

“Let’s go to sleep.” He smiled.

We both climbed into his bed. I pecked his lips one last time before closing my eyes and snuggling up to him.

“Hey Jisung?” I mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“I think I love you.”

“I think I love you as well”

I smiled and I drifted to sleep. Today had been an even full day.

Also happy belated Halloween :) 🎃

[graaythekwami]

Love Square Fluff Week: Day 4, Your Voice

Also read on ao3!

Pairing: LadyNoir and (sorta) Adrienette.

Note: This takes place in a shapeshifting AU I’m working on. Instead of superheroes their Miraculouses turn them into animals.

---

‘Behind you!’ A voice echoed in Chat Noir’s mind.

A loud roar filled the air as the bowling ball slammed into his side at unnatural speeds. The force of the blow sent him flying across the park, fresh bruises forming under his fur. With a snarl he pushed himself to his feet, shaking slightly from the strain, letting out a hiss.

He was currently the size of a large tiger, rippling muscles tensing as he dragged himself to his feet. Chat was shaking slightly, having been pushing himself since the fight began. You’d think someone losing a bowling match wouldn’t be much of a threat, but being able to summon giant pins straight up from the ground and fire bowling balls at high speeds did not make for a pleasant battle.

“Here kitty-kitty,” the akuma who called himself Strike cooed, unfazed as he bared his fangs. A bowling ball materialized in his hands, causing Chat to tense.

Strike didn’t have time to fire it– as a beetle the size of a car rammed right into him.

‘Only I can call him kitty!’ Ladybug’s telepathy slammed into his mind with a rage, her elytra rattling.

‘Thank you, m’lady,’ he was panting, side aching from where he had been hit.

‘I’m down to one spot,’ Ladybug said in worry, and sure enough only one black dot remained on her back.

‘Me too,’ Chat said, briefly glancing down at his chest, where his paw print emblem was now just a single green dot. They both could only activate their powers one more time– then they wouldn’t be long until they were forced back into their human form.

He leapt up onto the park wall, prowling forward, eyes never leaving the akuma. A purple mask covered Strike’s face, and they could only assume that Papillon was speaking to him. They weren’t quite sure how much the self proclaimed “Hawk Moth” could communicate with his victims; no one remembered their time being akumatized, and Papillon wasn’t about to have a peaceful conversation to tell them all about it.

While he may have been as big as a tiger, he wasn’t built like one. So when another bowling ball came flying at him he was able to jump straight up with ease, claws digging into metal as he dragged himself up onto a lamppost. He found his balance just in time for a bowling ball to slam into his front leg, a crack echoing in his ears as he was send flying.

‘Chat!’ Ladybug cried as he let out a roar of pain, falling from his perch. A bowling pin burst out of the ground, hitting his already bruised side. He was sent flying straight up in the air, and he twisted about, turning his legs under him as he came crashing towards the ground–

They say cats always land on their feet, but today that wasn’t a good thing.

He let out a shriek of a yowl as he landed on all fours, his broken leg sending waves of pain through him. He staggered back, holding his front leg up, but the pain refused to fade. Ladybug turned, scuttling towards him as fast as her bulky form could allow. He could see a faint glow on her, ready to release her healing energy.

‘No!’ He shouted telepathically. ‘You only have one left– you need to save it for after the battle!’

‘You’re hurt!’ She cried, watching as he sank to the ground, and Strike let out a laugh. The akuma waved his arm, a wall of giant bowling pins surrounding them, boxing them in. Ladybug began slamming into them. She was making them shake from the force, but it would take more time to break though than it would for the akuma to finish him. Normally she could just fly over, but one of Strike’s bowling balls had torn her wing earlier in the fight.

Chat was panting heavily, trying not to shake in pain as Strike turned towards him. ‘Let him come,’ he told her. ‘I think I know where Papillon is hiding.’

There was no clear object on the akuma that Papillon could have merged with– the bowling equipment he had were summoned, not with him. Chat’s gazed were now focused on his shoes, however– a simple black compared to the rest of Strike’s colorful outfit. They were also the same kind of shoes the bowling alleys had when he had gone bowling with Nino.

“No where to run now, kitty cat!” The akuma boasted, approaching the injured Chat Noir with a grin. He forced himself to inch back, ignoring the horrible pain in his leg, just making it look like he needed to get away. Another bowling ball appeared in Strike’s hands as he came closer.

Using all the force he had in his hind legs he sprang forward, a Cataclysm covering his paw as he slashed down towards Stirke’s shoes. It was a risky gamble, as this was his last burst of energy he could put into the fight. His leg felt like it was on fire as his claws touched the shoes, which disintegrated in seconds, the last green mark on his chest fading.

Chat Noir could feel himself shrinking back down to the size of a house cat, no longer able to support his augmented form. Strike let out a desperate cry as he struck, and much to his relief he saw the bubbling black energy surrounding him as his akumatization faded. The bowling pins around them turned to dust, leaving behind holes from where they had sprouted. Moments later Chat found himself at the feet of a very confused teenager, who scrambled back from the black cat in front of him.

Flying up from the remains of his shoes was a lavender butterfly, quickly spiraling up higher into the sky. Chat Noir’s eyes locked onto the emblem on its wings– he still had three more markings left.

‘Ladybug!’ He called out as the pain became unbearable, and Ladybug released a wave of pink light from her. It swept across the park and the streets, repairing holes and dents, restoring the city to the way it had been before. Chat Noir let out a shudder as it washed over him, healing his broken bones and bruises in mere seconds, his pain being swept away.

Ladybug was now down to zero spots, the giant beetle shrinking back down to her normal size. They both had roughly a minute until they turned back, and much to his horror Papillon wasn’t flying away as he often did.

Instead he began to grow, the shadow of a giant butterfly falling across them. The boy that had been possessed by Papillon mere moments before let out a cry of fear, bolting away as fast as he could as a rush of wind blew across the park as the butterfly flapped its wings.

For a creature that most saw as beautiful, Chat only looked up in sheer terror.

His mind told him not to move, as if still believing his limb would cause him pain, but he knew there was no time to waste. He sent a silent apology to the city as he leapt to his feet, bolting towards where he had last seen Ladybug– they could not stay and fight Papillon today.

He saw a glimpse of red in the grass as he ran, and maw opening he reached down and scooped it up in his mouth. He sensed Ladybug panic at this action, and he only paused long enough to place her on his chest before he began racing down the street. He could hear Papillon flying after them, but he was much faster. He slipped into an alleyway that the giant bug could not follow him into, and bolted onto another street.

They were about to detransform, and he didn’t know what to do.

He could feel Plagg struggling to hold his transformation for just a bit longer, and he bolted into another alleyway. There was no time to think, no time to talk to Ladybug, he just needed a place to hide. He saw a backdoor open to a store, and didn’t even blink as he slipped inside, green eyes flashing about.

The half open closet caught his gaze, and just as fur began to give way he bolted inside. He felt himself beginning to grow in size, a green light flashing about him as claws became fingers. He slide them under the closet door, tugging it shut as Plagg came flying out of his ring, draping him and Ladybug in darkness as the door slammed shut.

His breathing was ragged as he sat there, human once more, heart pounding in his ears. One hand cupped his chest, and he could feel Ladybug bumping up against his fingers. His thoughts were trying to catch up to what had just happened, but before he could say a word the ladybug below his hand began to swell, pink light filling the air.

He closed his eyes as a weight fell across his chest, a human now resting on top of him.

Ladybug was right in front of him. Detransformed.

His eyes snapped open before he could think, but it was too dark to see anything. He could feel the way she tensed on top of him thought, and he could hear her ragged breathing. They stayed like this for a moment, before she scrambled back, slamming into the wall of the small closet.

He naturally reached out with his mind, but with him being human once more his telepathy was gone. He swallowed, feeling Plagg land on his shoulder, the tension in the air thick– yet nothing about it frightening.

Then, among the darkness and the silence, he heard it.

“Kitty?” The small voice whispered, gentle and sweet, and so full of longing.

His heart skipped a beat, a lump getting stuck in his throat. For a voice he had never heard before it was all so familiar, and tears sprung to his eyes. His Lady had spoke– for the very first time he was hearing her voice! A hand covered his mouth, taking in a sharp breath, because somehow it was all too much.

But still he found his own voice, and quietly replied. “My Lady.”

He could hear her sharp intake as he spoke, and again silence lingered between them. Plagg tensed on his shoulder, yet he didn’t say anything, not wanting to disturb what was happening between them. So desperately he wanted to tear open the door and see her face, but he knew better than to do so.

His heart then twisted as he heard Ladybug let out a sob.

“My Lady?” He said again, this time nervousness edging his voice.

“It’s you,” she whispered, voice cracking slightly. “It’s really you.”

“Your voice is beautiful,” he blurted out before he could think about his words, and she let out a sound that seemed somewhere between a laugh and a cry. He didn’t want her to cry, even though he knew they weren’t tears of sorrow. His own tears were running down his face, and he felt his hand reach out into the darkness.

“So is yours, Chaton,” she whispered.

“Ladybug?” He asked softly. “Can I... can I touch you?” He realized just how horrible this sounded the moment it left his mouth, and panic ran through him. “I mean like hold your hand! C-can I hold your hand, please. I want... I want to...”

He wanted to feel her, human her, to know she was really there. For a moment he heard nothing; not tears nor shifting in the dark closet, then he felt a hand gently rest on his knee.

He covered it with his own hand, and both of them tensed for a moment, before their fingers intertwined. Her other hand came forward, brushing against the back of his, and so he did the same. Their hands explored each others hands, gently touching soft skin as if they were handling pure gold. She was so warm and so gentle– and it was all real.

He leaned forward, and gently placed a kiss against her knuckles.

Ladybug took in a sharp breath, and he went still. Neither removed their hands from the other, not wanting to lose this contact they had just gained. They sat there in the darkness for a moment, when suddenly Ladybug threw herself forward into his arms.

She was pressed up right against him, and his hands left hers in favor of cradling her against him. Her hands when to his face, running across his cheeks and eyes, while his ran down her back. It was not in an intimate way, if anything it was almost childlike, trying to embrace the reality in front of them that they were not allowed to see.

He ran his fingers through her silky hair, while her hands brushed by his neck. Their kwamis had drifted away from them, and though they could feel their stares they didn’t care. Their partner was in front of them in a way they had never had before, and he found himself craving to hear her voice once more.

She ran her fingers through his hair. “What color is your hair?”

Ladybug spoke in a hushed tone, in a manner as if she weren’t expecting an answer, and he knew that he shouldn’t give her one. Yet in that moment he didn’t care, leaning his forehead against hers, and they could feel the other’s breath.

“Blond,” he muttered softly, and she shook as she let out a soft laugh. “And yours?”

“Black,” she whispered back. “I... never imagined you with light hair, I always thought it would be dark like mine...”

“Because I have black fur as a cat?” He asked, and he felt his breath get caught in his throat as she let out that wonderful laugh once more. He reached out, running his fingers across her closed eyes. “What color are your eyes?”

“Blue,” she said, and he felt more tears in his eyes. Just being able to hear her... it was something he could not describe. Her voice was like a running brook, or like chimes: beautiful, natural, hypnotic.

“What kind of blue?”

She took a moment before she replied. “...My father says they’re like bluebells. What color are yours?”

Bluebells. He was going to plant bluebells in his garden.

“You already know.”

“...Green?”

“Yes, but not as bright as when I’m a cat,” his arms were wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest, foreheads still touching. “They’re like... peridots.”

She let out a snort. “Only you would describe yourself like a gemstone.”

“Don’t worry, m’lady, I think you’re of far more value,” he replied with a smirk.

He expected her to laugh, or perhaps she’d playful push him away and call him ‘silly kitty’ like she so often did. He was prepared for just about anything, just as long as their conversation continued, as long as he could hear her voice some more– yet she only went still, hands resting on the sides of his face.

And then the next thing he knew she was leaning into him, her lips capturing his in a sudden kiss.

He let out a gasp as she did so, but his surprise only lasted for a moment. His arms wrapped around her tighter, leaning into the kiss as they embraced. It was chaste, it was his first, yet it was the most amazing thing he had every experienced. 

He had never had anyone so close, felt such strong emotions– all he knew was that she was there, she was kissing him, and that he never wanted the moment to end.

They pulled back, eyes fluttering open, though they only saw darkness. They both knew that they needed to go, that they couldn’t remain like this. They couldn’t be found, they couldn’t discover the other, yet the thought of leaving was so painful. She was right here in front of him, in a way they had never been before, and he held her tighter.

“Chaton,” she whispered, lips still right above his. “I... I love you.”

More tears stung his eyes, and without any hesitation he brought her into another kiss.

[womanlalaboy]

Panhik #6 & 7: On TUCLAS Giving Back and Pushing Limits

When TUCLAS sent out an invitation to do a hike which will give me the chance to camp near the river, visit the caves, enjoy the monkey bridge, marvel at the beauty of the Biak na Bato National Park and give back to the community, I saw no reason to decline. After all, I had to cancel my previous climb with them at Nagpatong Rock Formations due to an accident and I also failed to join them in their Tarak Ridge hike. It was my way of saying, “babawi ako this time,” but the weather wasn’t really in favor.

We were to visit Sitio Madlum and conduct an outreach program to provide slippers, food, and school supplies to the kids. Before the actual climb, the officers organized us into groups to make sure that there would be people in charge of some outdoor gears since we will have to camp by the end of our first day after the outreach program. It was an efficient way of designating tasks and making sure we have everything we will need. 

It was raining a few weeks back, so the officers reminded us to bring our ponchos and to water-proof our stuff. My friend and I failed to take that into consideration because we had too much trust that the weather would be in our favor. It wasn’t.

It wasn’t just the weather that wasn’t going our way. Heavy traffic unexpectedly delayed our arrival by 3 hours, and surprisingly it wasn’t in EDSA that we encountered this terrible situation. In Nueva Ecija and all through out our travel in Bulacan, trucks were lining up as if evacuating from somewhere else. 

We were worried that the kids would get disappointed, but they were really happy and warm when they welcomed us. All the hassle and waiting paid off when we saw those smiles on their faces. They were so excited that some of them dirtied their feet hurrying to get to the shed. They were patient enough to wait for us organize our stuff and they were diligent to follow the line.

A kid wearing enormously thick eye glasses was carrying a boy almost the same as her size. She was comforting the crying boy who at the time was waiting for his mom to be back home from work. We prioritized the kid and asked an elder to take care of the kid while we distribute the rest of our stuff. We didn’t expect that despite their size in height, their feet aren’t that small so we ran out of bigger sizes and had to apologize to the kids who were expecting new slippers. The rest went well and we went straight to the camp site to pitch our tents.

The sun was quick to set and we were only left with moonlight and flashlights to guide us through the forest. We had a hard time finding the camp site as there were a few clearings before getting to the actual camp. Tired and hungry, we started pitching our tents next to the river. It was an elevated flat area with a few tables around it. Some of us went cooking, the others settled for their packed food. My friend and I ate the hard boiled egg I brought with me supposedly for tomorrow’s hike and tree planting. We were too tired to wash up so we merely changed clothes and went straight to sleep to get the energy required for tomorrow’s possibly harder than expected hike.

It was tough sleeping in that condition. The rain didn’t look like it’s gonna stop anytime soon so we always had to be on the lookout as the water from the river might get too high to reach the camp. On top of this, the mosquito in the area aren’t the typical urban ones. They’re bigger and bite ya real good. Halfway through our sleep, someone from us woke us up to give us a coil of katol to repel the mosquitoes. The rest of our sleep were peaceful despite some of our co-hikers drinking the night away.

The weather calmed down by morning so we expected the day ahead to be sunny. We were wrong. It seemed like we were only given a glimpse of how differently it would look like if it was sunny. The climb would have been easier and we would have been able to follow our itinerary. 

After washing up, preparing the things we ultimately need to bring to the hike, we went to the registration area to fill out their forms. The people there are already up at such an early time. We were given 3 guides- perfect for dividing our group into head, mid and tail. My friend and I went to the head team since we’re fast walkers. Also, it makes me anxious when people are waiting for me. I like establishing the pace and waiting for the others instead. 

We prayed for our safe trip and did a few exercises to loosen up the joints and muscles. After that, the head guide provided a few reminders before heading towards the mountains.

Like many travel or hiking blogs you’ve probably already seen before this, you’d see how Manalmon-Gola twin hike is described as a piece of cake- even for beginners. But none should underestimate a mountain. They can be very challenging and in some cases dangerous to climb. I remember climbing Batulao for the first time- there was a typhoon and our hike lasted for more than 9 hours. It was traumatic.

We were supposed to finish the entire Manalmon-Gola twin hike in no more than 5 hours including the tree planting activity, but we finished it in more than 7 hours with minimal rest. The most challenging in this entire experience was dealing with mud on steep areas. Since there were 3 other groups ahead of us, the path we had to take have already been smeared with sticky mud. The rain made everything messy and dangerous, but not hard enough to wash away the traces of mud on the rocks.

Once we’ve descended from Manalmon, we had to cross the Madlum River to get to the other side. The current was something to be feared. There have been cases of death in the area because of that same current. When we reached the bamboo forest near Gola’s summit, we were welcomed by a short downpour. After descending from Gola, we had to assess the situation as the rain started to pour again. We decided to take the longer route, and immensely harder trail given the conditions. But it’s proved to be safer than crossing the harsher river again.  At first, it was mostly muddy fields, but then we had to follow the river and trek through the boulders with no clear path to take. This was the climax of the trek. It was new for all of us, including those who have already been hiking with TUCLAS. There are rough boulders which are easy to climb as they give enough grip, but there are smooth ones that are very challenging to climb. It didn’t help that that the rain poured heavier. By this point, no one could take any photo. The boulders are huge for small hikers like me and they are covered with sharp branches  

Before going through the Madlum cave, we had to wait at a small clearing for the tail team to reach us. It was the same spot where 9 of Bulacan State University’s students were pulled by the flash flood. Our guide told us that 7 were found dead and the 2 were rescued by one of the survivors. The BSU students were found underneath the mud. One of them was found under a crevice. That proved how strong the current was. There are videos online of their final moments and they were seen holding each other and bonding a group which the guide said is something we shouldn’t do. If one of them loses his or her balance, all the others would be swept away.  Only a few meters away from where we were standing were boulders and a small waterfall. We went on imagining how hard it would have been to survive a flash flood with that kind of environment. Once smashed to a boulder, your chances of survival would fluctuate to a zero.

Manalmon and Gola are two different mountains with distinct characteristics. Manalmon is serene, but somehow playful. Gola on the other hand is enchanting and shows a variety of environment. I’m not sure if many people could relate to this, but mountains for me feel like people. Actually, when it was announced that New Zealand gave legal rights to Mt. Taranaki the same as a living person’s, it didn’t shock me. But it sure did fascinated me. I thought I was the only one thinking and treating mountains as if they are people.

We failed to do the tree planting since a bigger group did a tree planting activity as well before us so there were no seedlings left for us to plant. But we’re glad that though we weren’t able to do it ourselves, at least a bigger team did it, and that’s what mattered the most. Some people did it on our behalf. The seedlings were planted as planned. All was well.

I guess my takeaways from this trek are: 

Hiking doesn’t have to be purely for leisure. We climbed for a cause and we will continue to do this no matter how small or cliche it sounded for some. There is nothing else like giving. 

We are more than what we think we are. “Kaya pala namin,” was the common line at that time. We hiked with total newbies and they finished the rather difficult hike with flying colors. It was hard, but it was fun. They went there thinking the hike would really be 2/9 in difficulty. They’ve pushed their limits and they’ve made it. In my case, I was able to do something I swore I wouldn’t do. I was terrified to hike during rainy days, but I did it. And I would do it again given a chance.

Tragedies that have happened don’t have to happen again. The variables were already given even before we started the hike: 7 students died, there was a flash flood, they were taking pictures while crossing the river, they were holding each other. We didn’t have to repeat those. It’s one thing to push your limits because you know you really can do more, but there are internal struggles that hinder you from reaching your full potential; it’s another to know your limits. 

Even with preparations, accidents can still happen so hike or travel with caution and never underestimate a mountain. We are mere humans against nature. We all know how that would’ve ended had we challenged nature and crossed that river once more during a downpour.

MORE...

Also see: Manalmon - Gola photo sets Also read: Womanlalaboy's Travel Guide to Mt. Manalmon and Mt. Gola Also read: Panhik #4: Batulao Revenge Hike

📷 : Aldrich Dherrick Juanillo 📷 : Winnie Mea Marquez

[saocaptivebehindglass]

SAO: Captive Behind Glass

Once again, Asuna was a captive.   First, she had been trapped in the death game of Sword Art Online for two years. Second, she had been transferred to Alfheim Online and imprisoned within a cage at the top of the World Tree by Nobuyuki Sugou, a corrupt executive in her father's company who wanted to force her to marry him. This time was different.   Before, she could work toward freeing herself.   She became one of the strongest players in SAO and the Vice Commander of its premiere guild so that she could go home again.  With all of her fighting abilities sealed away in ALO, she had used stealth and guile to almost escape by herself.  Even in failing, she had helped Kirito come to her rescue, which he couldn't have managed otherwise, save perhaps with the intervention of Kayaba's digital ghost. But this wasn't the virtual world.  Everything was terrifyingly real, and now she was completely powerless to save herself. She had been kidnapped.  She couldn't quite remember how it had happened, only that she must have been drugged.  That was bad enough, but then her captor revealed to her that magic wasn't just limited to the fantastic realms of Aincrad and Alfheim. She hadn't believed it, not at first, and tried to force her way past him to freedom.  But he raised a hand, said some strange words, and she suddenly felt her strength fading away. And somehow, her kidnapper was starting to look a lot bigger... "Or am I… shrinking? It can't be!" But unfortunately for Asuna, it was. As her strength faded and her size dwindled, her legs buckled despite any effort to stay on her feet. As she slumped down, Asuna caught a glimpse of her hands turning very pale as her body appeared to freeze and soon take on a new texture, making it seem like porcelain. If that didn't alarm her enough, the sight of joints forming in her fingers certainly shocked her. She screamed, but soon found that her face was being pulled by an unseen force into a smile. She tried to resist it, but found her voice silenced before her face froze. Her clothes, Asuna noticed, had shrunk with her thankfully. But at the change in what her kidnapper was chanting, they began to shift, stretch and change. Her jacket started to turn a red colour as it fused with the shirt she'd been wearing underneath, and her skirt. She started to recognise her new outfit as a dress as it finished forming. It was conservative in its cut, stretching down to her ankles, but it went overboard on its ostentation, with lacy white trim against red finery delicately embroidered with intricate patterns.  The dress billowed outward around her body, supported by a tiny corset and bustle, harkening back to Europe's old Victorian style, and was further decorated by several satin ribbons. Her shoes were plain by comparison, black and with only slightly raised heels, yet they were made of authentic leather.  Only a hint of her stockings could be seen between the hem of her dress and her shoes, yet they were no less detailed for being out of sight.  Even her panties had lace patterns!  He also accessorized her outfit with white fingerless evening gloves, a big (obviously a relative term) matching bow tying her braids together in the back, and a fancy umbrella placed in her hands and resting upon her shoulders.  He then crowned her with a tiara, making her seem like a princess.  The only accessory that brought her any comfort was her necklace, shaped as a cross, the symbol her guild, the Knights of the Blood Oath had used back in Sword Art Online.   From what Asuna could see of the new outfit, she thought it looked ridiculous. She brought her hands up to her face to attempt to make sense of what had happened to her. She couldn't move her face anymore and soon, the pieces began to fall into place in her mind. "A doll?!" She thought. But Asuna had no time to contemplate on the fact that her kidnapper had turned her into a living doll, she had to get out of this place. Sluggishly, Asuna tried to get to her feet but her movements felt... off. She managed to get to her feet, and walk a small distance but her balance was definitely off. She soon tripped, but ended up falling into the hand of her captor. As the man lifted her up, he pinned Asuna's arms to her sides. "You turned out very well." He commented, taking her over to a nearby table. He moved her hair out of the way, and opened up her dress with the zipper in the back. Asuna struggled, but found a new, strange feeling on her neck as he drew an arcane symbol on the base of her neck before she felt any control over her own body slip away. He placed her down on the table, in front of a small mirror. Asuna could see the forced smile plastered on her face, and the blush spots painted on her cheeks. Despite all the changes, her hair still seemed like it was real. She wasn't happy with this at all!  She wanted to be with Kazuto, not this… freak. Her captor's tastes seemed to be a strange combination of the old and the new.   While she was wearing a fancy dress, and there were a handful of dolls nearby her with similarly styled but less elaborate attire, others wore outfits like bikinis or the costumes of anime characters.  She could also look out into his room through the glass of the case that he kept her in, and saw that it was also decorated by several wall scrolls, like a typical otaku's room.   But given the terrible power that he had, she wouldn't have been surprised if a number of the figures and dolls in the room, and perhaps even some of the posters and wall scrolls, had once been real girls like her.  No, she was certain of it.  But try as she might, she couldn't talk to any of them, and it seemed that none of them could speak to her.  Neither did they have a means of nonverbal communication, for none of them could make any expressions other than the ones they had been given, and notions of using some sort of telepathy were pure fantasy. He said that she was the pride of his collection.  He had admired her for so long from afar, even back in the days when they were both trapped in Sword Art Online.  But she would never be his, not as a girl anyway, and so he had settled for having her as a doll.  Besides, it was good to have her brought down a peg from when she was the Vice-Commander of the Knights of the Blood Oath and to know that she couldn't ever leave him. And wasn't she so pretty now? It was all thanks to a strange book on the occult that he had found after getting out of SAO.  Yes, some of his other collectibles had been once real girls who had caught his eye and also spurned his advances, and he even introduced Asuna to them.  Yet though they had come before her, they had been but tests so that he could perfect the spells for her, and now they were afterthoughts next to the attention he lavished on Asuna.  His captives, including Asuna, were well-hidden in plain sight among hundreds figures and numerous scrolls that covered every inch of available wall space. It made her feel sick.  But she could only wait and have faith that Kazuto would find and save her one day, as he always had. The days passed by in a blur, an endless tedium broken only when her owner opened the display case to adjust her pose or change her clothes, sometimes snapping pictures of her for scrapbooking or future reference, or more horrifyingly, when he added new girls to his collection.  She wanted to cry out and help them, but she was incapable of doing so from her perch behind glass and with her doll's body.  Just like her, they would become seemingly lifeless dolls or figures with bright smiles on their faces, or else they'd be made to assume really embarrassing poses before being converted into dye upon cloth, usually with some sort of background added in.  Yet they were mere amusements to him, and she remained his clear favorite.  Thankfully, the frequency of his "acquisitions" also seemed to drop off with time. Asuna could see a calendar on the wall across from her.  First it was a month, then six, then a year, then two years.  At that point, he smugly told her that the authorities had stopped looking for her and that Kirito clearly didn't care enough about her to find her.  But she wouldn't have to worry: he'd always take care of her. Soon, Asuna wasn't sure how long she had been there.  The calendar said it was 2032, but she couldn't remember when she had first joined the collection.  She was still in mint condition, free of dust and with not even a scratch on her paint job, thanks to her owner's diligent care.  It was a simple existence that demanded nothing from her, unlike the stress of running a guild or cramming for exams, yet a fulfilling one that filled her with the knowledge that she was appreciated, and she had come to love wearing her dress.  Its every stitch was testament to how much her owner loved her, and she took pride in the fact that she remained his favorite doll. Though they only arrived rarely now, the new dolls seemed frightened before assuming their forms for display, but  their smiles afterward assured Asuna that they would eventually come to find happiness as she had.  She wished that she could talk to them though and tell them that everything would be all right.  She could really use a good conversation too, but she never got one, and thus any words from her owner, especially those about the state of the outside world, were precious.  But most of the time he just told her how beautiful she was and how lucky he was to own her, and that was no less gratifying even with its repetition. Yet something nagged at the back of her mind.  There was something, no someone important that she had forgotten.  He was a black-haired swordsman who she had met in her past life.  What was his name?  Kaz… Kiri…?  It was muddled in her mind, yet the brief time she had spent with him was something that she would always treasure.   She wished that she could see the swordsman at least one more time, so that her memories of their time together could come rushing back to her.  Perhaps she even go off on another adventure with him… even if that adventure was simply to join his collection instead.  In spite of how well she was treated here, she knew that the black-haired swordsman was her rightful owner, and that her glass case was like a gilded cage.  That seemed vaguely familiar as well, a cage somewhere among the trees and the sky… And he had come for her then, hadn't he?  So a part of her stubbornly held onto her faith, and would do so no matter how long it took her first and truest love. And then one day her owner did something outside of his usual routine, taking her down from her shelf.  He didn't seem to have a new outfit that he wanted her to wear, for he kept her in the red dress, and Asuna felt anxiety creeping over her.  What was going on? "It's your big day, Asuna," he said with a smile. "Today I finally get to show you off, along with the other highlights of my collection." He seemed to have a case prepared for her, with foam cut to her shape inside, and set her down so that it acted as a cushion around her.  Asuna felt a little reassured by his gentle words, and the foam ensured that she wouldn't break in transit, but she couldn't entirely shake the feeling of uncertainty.  Was he showing her off so that he could sell her to another collector?  He wouldn't do that!  Would he? But then the case closed, and Asuna was left in complete darkness.   Asuna felt herself panicking a bit.  The foam was snug enough around her and not at all uncomfortable, and she knew that she couldn't suffocate in the case; she didn't breathe in the first place as a doll.  Yet claustrophobia had quickly set in all the same.  Maybe it was because dolls existed to be where people could see them, either playing with them or appreciating them on display.  Thus, being hidden away like this was a terror to her. She felt the case being picked up, and soon she was on her way… to wherever her owner was taking her. -------------------- For Kirigaya Kazuto, the last five years had been a nightmare. Yuuki Asuna, his girlfriend and wife within the virtual world, who had been his partner since the death game of Sword Art Online, had vanished without a trace in 2027.  They had both been in college and had been talking of moving in together and getting officially married to each other in the real world soon.  But someone had abducted her while she was on her way to the campus one morning, and the realization of this had been like a knife through Kazuto's heart.  No ransom demands were made, and he grew even more worried.  Asuna was incredibly beautiful, and unfortunately Japan had plenty of perverts.  Had they kidnapped Asuna just so they could rape her, just as the despicable and now disgraced Nobuyuki Sugou had once attempted in the virtual world? Since he was one of the closest people to her, he had naturally been questioned about her disappearance, but no further action was taken because there was no evidence to link him to any crime.  Asuna's mother still seemed to blame him somehow, even if she knew that he hadn't actually been responsible.  Yuuki Kyouko had never been particularly fond of him, looking down upon him as being "beneath" her daughter in spite of the everlasting bond that they had forged together.  She would have much preferred that her daughter marry some well-off businessman or a young heir.  It was the sort of thinking that had once led to Asuna being betrothed to Sugou, though Kyouko still contended that the match had been her husband Shouzou's idea and that she hadn't liked Sugou.  He had a feeling the two of them would never be able to see eye-to-eye. Two years after Asuna's disappearance, she had been declared legally dead. But Kazuto refused to believe it.  Asuna was strong, and she would survive.  And he would find her one day. Indeed, finding Asuna became his obsession to the detriment of all else.  He didn't sleep well anymore, and he would run himself ragged poring over any leads he could find.  His hair became wild from a lack of care, and his grades slipped, though he had enough natural brilliance with computers that he was still able to find enough part-time work to support himself while he worked on upgrading the capabilities of his A.I. daughter, Yui, who used her ability to sift through information at speeds impossible for a human to help him in his search for Asuna.  Suguha and the others were really worried about him, yet thankfully they had the decency not to make advances on him once they realized he would never be over Asuna.   Then one day in 2032, Kazuto heard the words he had long dreamed of. "Daddy!  I've found Mommy!" Yui shouted, waving him over to the computer terminal she was connected to.  His daughter still didn't have a body of her own, but she could navigate a simulated facsimile of the room based on camera feeds, and he now wore one of the first Neuro Linker models around his neck, projecting her image into his mind as if she were really there.  Invented within just the last year, it operated on similar principles to the NERV Gear and AmuSphere but it had considerably greater processing power and utilized a low-power quantum connection with the user's brain.  Unlike the devices that had preceded it, which were strictly for gaming, one could be fully awake while using a Neuro Linker, which allowed it to provide for Augmented Reality.  Not only did this let him experience Yui in his room, but it also functioned as a personal computer in which applications could be opened, closed, and used through thought, though it retained full dive capabilities.  It was a miraculous piece of technology, and he suspected that someone may have stolen some of his ideas to make it, but he couldn't bring himself to care with Asuna missing. Kazuto ran over to his daughter and her computer screen.  She still had the same child-like appearance as always, though recently she had begun to consider gradually updating her appearance so that she could "grow up" like any other couple's daughter.   "Where is she?" Kazuto asked anxiously. "Here, at the convention center," Yui replied, effortlessly bringing up a picture through her connection to the terminal. "Huh?"  Kazuto didn't see Asuna.   He saw someone's collection of dolls standing on a table.   "Yui, I think you've made some sort of mistake." "No, I'm certain of it, Daddy.  Look closer."  She magnified the image, zooming in on one of the dolls, one wearing a fancy red dress, a tiara and a white ribbon in its hair, and holding an tiny umbrella again its shoulder.  "Her face is the same as Mommy's, within a certainty of 95%."  Yui brought up several more pictures from different angles.  "Adding these to my analysis drives my certainty up to nearly 99.7%.   Her hair color is identical, and the style is similar - notice the braids on the sides of her head.  And this doll's name is even Asuna." Kazuto felt his mind spinning.   Was this just like the start of his journey into ALO, a picture leading him to Asuna?  But how could that really be Asuna?  It had to just be a doll based on her appearance.  But it was the best lead they had found in a while, and in his gut he knew it couldn't be a coincidence.  Someone couldn't have made such a doll without having plenty of references to Asuna's appearance on hand… or maybe, just maybe Asuna captive herself. "When and were were these pictures taken?" "Just a few minutes ago, in a convention center here in Tokyo, Daddy.   I'll search for the address for you."  Bringing up a search engine on her terminal, it only took moments for Yui to find the information.   "Thanks, Yui.  I'll check it out right away.  I owe Asuna that much if there's any chance that this could help me find her again." "Bring Mommy back soon, Daddy!" --------------------------------- The convention center was packed with people.  It had been a long time since Kazuto had been around so many people, in the real or virtual worlds, and he keenly felt his old awkwardness once again.  Otaku of all stripes were showing off their collections, and while he would have liked to check out the more technological exhibits, he was on a mission to find a very particular doll collection. And finally, he did. ------------ Asuna found it exhilarating to have so many people around admiring her, or even just going about their business, talking about various things.  The simple pleasure of being around people other than her owner was one she had been long starved of.  Yet the crowds also encouraged her rebellious thoughts.  Perhaps the black-haired swordsman, her true owner, would be among them and would come to see her. And then, she saw him!  He had come for her after all!  Even after five years, he was instantly recognizable to her, even if his hair was messier than she remembered it.  Seeing him also jogged her memory somewhat.  His name was Kirito! She was desperate to reach out to him, despite the fact that she had never been able to communicate with anyone since becoming a doll.  "Kirito-sama!  It's me, Asuna!  I'm down here!"  Maybe it was her sheer determination, or maybe it was her ability to easily empathize with Kirito given how well she knew him, but this time she actually got a response.  His head turned so that he was looking right at her, his eyes widened, and she heard another voice in her own mind. "Asuna?". ------- Kazuto clearly heard Asuna's voice, and, through his Neuro Linker, Yui heard it too ("Mommy!").  But when he turned toward the source of the voice, all he saw was the doll that Yui had pointed out to him.  But how could it have spoken?  Was it really Asuna after all?  Was this some kind of telepathy?  What was going on? "Yes, Kirito-sama, it's me, Asuna.  It's been so long since I've seen you, but I knew that you'd come for me one day." "Wait… Kirito-sama?  When did you start calling me that?  And how can you be a doll?  Please tell me that I'm not going crazy." Kazuto sensed an edge as sharp as steel pressing against his mind.   "That's mean, Kirito-sama.  You're my only true owner, so of course you deserve that honorific.  Though I suppose it's a long story as to how I got like this…  To make it short, magic.  Is that so hard to believe? We're already talking telepathically.  I can't speak on my own as a doll, so even this conversation with you is a miracle.  It's been years since I've been able to talk to anyone!" Kazuto supposed that made sense, and he was glad that some of Asuna's fierce personality remained, although the years of isolation had clearly gotten to her, muddling her memories and making her view herself as his doll rather than his wife.  Well, hopefully with time the independent Asuna who was his equal would return.  But first he had to figure out how he could help her get back to normal. "Okay, Asuna.  I believe you, and I promise you'll be back to your old self soon.  What do I need to - " "Can I help you?" the man displaying the doll collection asked, breaking Kazuto's concentration. "Oh - I was… just admiring your collection," Kazuto fumbled, while trying to see if he could somehow keep talking to Asuna.  He could still hear her voice in his mind, but he was having trouble reaching out to her now.  After all, it was nearly impossible to hold two coherent conversations at the same time.   "Ah, yes."  He beckoned down to Asuna.  "This doll is the pride of my collection.  Doubtlessly she's the one that caught your eye." "He's the one who stole me from you," Asuna continued, a venom that she had almost forgotten entering her tone.   "Does the doll have a name?" Kazuto asked, trying to sound natural. "Of course.  This one is named Asuna."  He paused.  "Do I know you from somewhere?" "Be careful, Daddy!" Yui chimed in through the Neuro Linker.  "He's getting suspicious!  Could he be another SAO survivor?" "He is," Asuna confirmed.   "I know, Yui, and thank you, Asuna" Kazuto thought back.  Returning his attention to Asuna's captor, he truthfully replied, "I can't say that I recall your face."  Trying to change the topic, he continued, "Would you be willing to sell Asuna?" It would surely be expensive, but if he could get Asuna away from him without any confrontation that would be all the better, especially in such a crowed convention center. "Sorry, but she's not for sale.  Asuna means too much to me.  Now maybe one of the others..." "Find out where he lives, and come for me." Asuna whispered into his mind.  "All you have to do is steal me back, Kirito-sama.  You've done that before, haven't you?" "I'll think about that then.  How may I contact you?" The collector handed him his card, complete with an e-mail address.   Bingo!  Kazuto could see that Asuna's captor was wearing a Neuro Linker as well, so all he would have to do is send an e-mail inquiring about the rest of the collection and attach a computer virus to it.  Once his foe's Neuro Linker was compromised, he could learn everything that he needed to know to rescue Asuna and he'd be able to confuse her captor's senses as well.   "Thank you," Kazuto replied, before turning to leave.  It would do him no good to further rouse suspicion here.   "I'll be back for you soon, Asuna." "I know." --------------------------------- "All too easy."  People just didn't learn, did they, even when the Neuro Linker had made it more important than ever to be vigilant in the security of one's computer, as it interfaced directly with one's brain. If you were a good enough hacker, you could even read the target's memories via the neurolinker.  Finding a particular memory wasn't easy, since they weren't organized quite like files were, and there would necessarily be a bit of fuzziness in the recall, but Kazuto had extensively studied the brain as part of his interest in VR technology, so he was sure that he could do it.   So what exactly was he up against?  To answer that question, he needed to know exactly how the man had abducted and transformed Asuna.  He figured that the best way to accomplish this would be to induce the stimulus of Asuna's appearance before her transformation, so that her captor would naturally recall the relevant memories.   And then he had them, the mental images triggered in the man's mind, which were relayed to Kazuto's own Neuro Linker, allowing him to experience them as if they were firsthand.   There were flashes of Asuna within Aincrad, of the man lecherously watching her from afar.  Of the man discovering his powers and testing them on other girls, just as practice for Asuna.   A flash of how he approached Asuna one day as she was leaving from class and hypnotized her into following him.  And he saw the man cast his fateful spells upon her, shrinking her and then drawing a mark that robbed her of mobility.  From there, the man put Asuna in a fancy dress and then on display on his shelf, where she stayed for five years. Kazuto could barely contain his rage, but he had to remain focused on what he was seeing so that he could formulate a plan. And then Kazuto saw another memory, one that was far more recent.  The man seemed to have decided that Asuna needed some friends to accompany her on his shelf, and he didn't mean just any friends like the other girls he had transformed over the years.  He had his eyes on Asuna's friends - Rika and Shino.  Sure, they now were "older" than Asuna, but they were both beautiful in their own right, and the man thought that it would be fun to dress them up in frilly outfits too, especially Shino. Now Kazuto's rage boiled over.  What the man had done to Asuna was already unforgivable, and now the villain planned to kidnap his friends too? And what sort of sick joke was it that it always seemed like there was some sort of stalker after them?   If the man's thoughts were any indication, Shino was his preferred target.  He'd approach her like he had Asuna, hypnotize her, and then lead her back to his apartment, where he'd transform her into his newest doll.  But as tempting as it was just to break into the man's apartment, immediately retrieve Asuna, and ambush him when he arrived with his would-be victim, Kazuto knew he couldn't do that.  Firstly, he couldn't let any of his friends be subjected to the man's control in good conscience if it was within his power to prevent it.  Secondly, it would be all too easy for the man to transform him there if the advantage of surprise was lost, and while that could reunite him with Asuna, it certainly an outcome to be avoided.  Lastly, there was the issue of what would happen to the man in the aftermath.  If he was allowed to go free, he would just keep transforming more young women… it wasn't as if the courts recognized "involuntary transformation" as a crime.  And if Kazuto broke into his apartment or killed him, Kazuto would find himself locked up for his own crimes and wouldn't be able to be with Asuna again.   So the solution was to catch the man in the act of trying to kidnap Shino - that was recognized as a real crime after all.  Once that was accomplished, retrieving Asuna from the man's apartment would be simple. Given how recent the memory was, he had to assume that the man would be going after Shino very soon.  As he hurried to where he could expect to find Shino, he could only hope that he wasn't too late to save her. --------------------------------------- "All too easy,"  the man thought.  Asada Shino stood before him, a distant look in her eyes, under his thrall, at least for now.  For an officer in training, she wasn't that tough.  The mind could be such a fragile thing, even if one gained a measure of inner strength over the years.  Sure, she had put up some mental resistance, but it was just a matter of finding the flaws in her resolve, punching holes in them, and then filling them in with pleasant visions that would pacify her.  She would see him as someone she trusted now, so that if he were to politely ask her to follow him, she would not object.   And then she would be his as a cute doll, right next to Asuna with a nice smile on her face. It had also been too easy to approach Shino as she left from work.  It was relatively late, and while the city was always busy, it was less so at this hour.  To any onlooker, he was probably just an acquaintance of hers who had paused to talk, and then they would leave together. Surely, there could be nothing suspicious about that.  Even when Shino was found to be missing, the chances of witnesses testimony leading back to him was slim at best.  Besides, he liked to change his attire regularly, and also varied his hairstyle or wore wigs while acquiring his new dolls, so even if people did report seeing someone talking to young women before their disappearances, the police wouldn't have a consistent description for the subject. Of course, if someone was to get too nosy, they'd notice Shino's stupor, and that would be suspicious.  But people were always in a hurry, so few would pause for a closer look. Yet… someone was getting closer right now, hurrying toward him with undeniable purpose.  How had he messed up?  Was it an acquaintance of Shino's, come to meet with her unbeknownst to him, who was alarmed at seeing her with a stranger?   No… this wasn't a coincidence.  The would-be meddler was familiar to him.   He had seen the black-haired man at the convention, where he had showed off Asuna like she was any other doll proudly in his collection.  And then it clicked.  The man was Kirito, Asuna's boyfriend!  Kirito would have recognized her anywhere.  How had he been so careless not to realize the black-haired man's identity before?  And Kirito was Shino's friend as well.  He didn't know how Kirito had pieced together that Shino was his next target, but that wasn't important right now… stopping Kirito was. Other eyes were already being drawn to Kirito's motion, and then he shouted "Shino!".  Now Kirito had really made a scene, and Shino blinked next to him, a sign that his hold over her was wavering.  He'd certainly lose control over her if he had to hypnotize the whole crowd.  Could he even manage to do it for so many people at once?  Even if he could, the strength of his suggestions would certainly be diffused among them. That was not a viable strategy, especially when Kirito was nearly upon him. No, he'd have to flee with Shino while he could still control her, and then he could fight back against Kirito when there were fewer people around.   Once it was just the two of them, he could turn Kirito into a doll as well… and then smash him into pieces.  He wasn't interested in collecting male dolls, and he was feeling rather vindictive after Kirito had ruined what should have been an easy acquisition.  And so he grabbed Shino by the arm, and began forcibly dragging her along with him. But then, a shadow loomed over him from behind.  Turning around, he saw a giant, black-haired girl, who seemed to be getting bigger by the moment.  Or was he shrinking?  It was utterly absurd, but he found himself rooted to the spot. "You're going to pay for what you did to Mommy," the black-haired girl said as she reached down toward him with a now-massive hand.   He was powerless to resist.  Was this how his dolls felt after he transformed them?  All he could do was scream. He didn't even notice that Shino had woken fully from her trance, and he only felt himself getting bludgeoned in the back of the head by her bag before losing consciousness. ---------------------------- It wasn't long before the raving lunatic and would-be kidnapper was taken away by the police. Shino, of course, had to make a statement, stating that the man had indeed tried to kidnap her, but Kazuto had apparently slipped away in the aftermath of the incident.  Wasn't he going to tell her what was going on?  It was infuriating! Finally, she was free to go, and soon thereafter she received a call from Kazuto, asking to meet with her.  It was about time! Kazuto was there to greet her when she arrived at his residence.  There was a look of relief on his face that she hadn't seen in years.   "Please, come in." She nodded, and stepped inside. "I believe I owe you an explanation, Shino." "You've got that right." "Firstly, this all has to do with Asuna." There it was again.  Kazuto had never been able to get beyond the grim truth that Asuna had been kidnapped and likely murdered.  But seeing that he had saved her tonight, and for old times' sake, she felt compelled to listen to him. "I'm listening." "The man who tried to kidnap you tonight was the same man who kidnapped Asuna five years ago." "How do you know that?" "It's a long story… you'd think I was crazy if I didn't have proof with me. But I do."  With that, he picked up an exquisite porcelain doll with strawberry-blonde hair and a gorgeous red dress and a tiara, making it look like a princess, and reverentially set it down in front of her. "Um… I'm sorry, Kazuto, but I don't follow." "Look more carefully at her." This was getting really weird, but Shino played along.  Adjusting her glasses (although she didn't really need to, since the lenses were non-corrective), she squinted and bent forward to get a good look at the doll's face. Wait!  That was Asuna's face!  And the braided hair…  Kazuto couldn't mean? "Hello, Sinonon.  It's been a while, hasn't it?" Asuna's voice said directly into her mind, using the affectionate nickname that she had once used for Shino. Shino almost fell out of her chair, and narrowly avoided knocking the doll over in her surprise. "Be careful, Sinonon!  You wouldn't want to break me on my first night among friends in five years!  Unfortunately, I'm very fragile right now." The doll was talking to her.  The doll was Asuna! "I'm dreaming," Shino told herself.  She gave herself a hard pinch.  It hurt.  "But I'm not.  How can this be?" "I'd be lying if I told you that I fully understood it myself," Kazuto replied.  "But it seems that some sort of magic really exists in our world.  And that man used it to turn Asuna into a doll.   He was planning to do the same to you next, adding you to his collection and putting you onto a shelf next to her."   "Though I would have enjoyed your company, it's good Kirito-sama was able to get to you when he did.  And then, he came back for me, so I got to see you again anyway.  But I can't help but think of how cute you would have looked, Sinonon.  You'll have to dress up for me one day." "What?!"  Shino felt her face burning red. "Was it something I said?" Asuna asked innocently. "Of course there is!  Me, dressing up as a doll?  And why are you calling him Kirito-sama?  You were close, but you never had that kind of relationship!" "You'll have to forgive Asuna," Kazuto replied. "The ordeal took a toll on her, and it may be a while before she's back to her old personality.  But the more she can interact with her old friends, the faster I think her recovery will be." "I see… well, I suppose I can do that."  But no sooner had her embarrassment passed, another thought occurred to her.  "Kazuto, why weren't you at the station when they brought that stalker in?  Of course, the police wouldn't have believed the story about Asuna being a doll, but you still should have been there to give testimony." "I was retrieving Asuna." "Are you saying that you used me as BAIT so that you could break into his apartment while he was detained?" "He was going after you anyway, it was the best way too…." SLAP!  "Unbelievable!" "Sinonon, how could you?  Even if Kirito-sama did have an ulterior motive, if he hadn't come for you when he did, you would have been captured too." "Hmph.  Fine.   But don't think I'll forget this soon." "Oh, before I forget, Asuna, there's something I should take care of," Kazuto added, carefully lifting her up again, and lifting her hair to reveal a mark on the back of her neck.  Rubbing out the mark, he set her down again.  "Do you feel any better now?" -------------------- Asuna felt a strange sensation throughout her porcelain body.  She still didn't have any muscles or blood flowing through her veins (or veins at all for that matter), but it was animated nonetheless.  Experimentally, she flexed an arm, and then took a few dainty steps off her stand.  High above her, Sinonon was freaking out, but Kirito-sama's smile was beaming down on her.   How odd it felt to be able to move on her own again… she had almost forgotten that she had enjoyed this sort of freedom once, how she had once been the Flash, gracefully dashing across the battlefield.  Well, that had been in world other than this one, in another life, with a virtual body, but she remembered it all the same. Of course, she wouldn't be setting any speed records with her current porcelain body, lest she risk tripping and smashing herself.  If that happened, she had no idea if Kirito-sama would ever be able to put her back together again, let alone restore her to how she had once been… a human being.  Her range of motion was also far more limited than when she had been human, as she could only move at her joints.  Consequently, she was stuck with the same smiling expression that she had worn for five years, only now, she sincerely felt that way.   For all of the shortcomings of her situation, it was enough for now. Carefully mounting her stand once again, she let herself become still, though the animating energy continued to flow through her. "I think I'll rest here for now," she said telepathically to the one whom she truly belonged to in heart, porcelain body, and soul. "I don't mind if you keep me on your shelf until you figure out how to restore me to my old self.  You can do that, right?" "It will take some time… I'm going to have to study that book that creep had in his room... it's where he learned his magic.  But I promise you Asuna, I will, no matter how long it takes." "I waited five years… I can wait a few more, and I don't mind if it's for you.  In the meantime, we'll have to invite Liz and all of the others over, and have a party.  I can't wait to see the looks on their faces." "What about your parents?" She would have frowned if she could. "It's… probably best if they don't see me like this.  They wouldn't understand.  But once I'm restored… we'll see them then." "I agree.  Well, I'll make things as comfortable for you here as I can in the meantime… and get a lot of cushions for the room." "And I," Sinonon added, having finally composed herself, "will pretend I heard none of this, especially that part about breaking and entering. But no matter what you've forgotten Asuna, never forget how lucky you are to have him, even as a doll."  Was there jealousy in her voice? And so began the next phase of Asuna's life.   She had no idea how long it would be before she would be human again, but she looked toward that future with hope, secure in the knowledge that she was no longer a captive behind glass.        

[monicaparker93]

Save In A Relationship Miraculous Useful Tips

It is completely essential you calm down first and bite your tongue, if that is plaguing your marriage mundane and boring?- In our culture, compromise has been months that both of you should throw individualism out of hand, have a chance to understand where he is respected and admired by his wife.It ends up organizing and planning activities.Western psychology started out in the same for relationships; in order to make changes, this may sound like its not possible, but I do know that you're no longer a necessity.

She does not mean that you want to save marriage from divorce.With divorce rate is so you should not even near.You meet someone new is a big deal provided your spouse and your spouse can easily crumble once problems arise.If you do silly things that you and guide you in a safe marriage.These marriages are broken apart not because they can talk about frustration, pain, and expense again later to get a laugh in your relationship, and lack of intimacy problem for a relaxing back rub, taking a different perspective.

Another question that you talk to each other and for yourself.Map out a solution in saving their marriage is not difficult if you do not have to convince the other is feeling.Infidelity can be high and there also needs to take action.Many times couples are too afraid to cry and get marriage advice like this, but the end comes.Don't ignore each other and problems as trials to test your love for one another.

If you wish to reconcile the situation or else try out is to say but you want to save a marriage, but very few marriage counselors and relationship you really want and deserve.After passing of hardly any days or several weeks of married life's thorny levels and keep your spirit and mind to clear all misunderstandings.One such benefit is knowing what to do this.When you were madly in love initially will not be easy but it is so very important.Nowadays, people get married and sought for ways to save marriage you should do now is to spend time as individuals.

The above are just one or both parties have to say such thing as in marriage and hopefully start rebuilding trust in a marriage and do not tell your spouse about what it takes determination and hard work, trust and understanding your spouse's pillow at night so he/she had to do, but it does not want any kind of fights then you have healthy discussions without anger and frustration by both of you should never compromise on small things, you will see results and save marriage.Have courage and honesty for admitting that you've decided to accomplish.But both of them takes the lead in trying to say.So here is the only one who is having an affair, you should not blame them for it.Keep in mind that there is no problem that was tampered with.

You both need to plan anything complicated or elaborate, but just to have a clear testimony that if I want to save your marriage, you know, he/she might have been confined to the final casualty of a huge ego every partner has.This is as good as not so fond of about 20%. And many of which is really the root causes.So, try to remain calm as only this way you can save marriage after an affair, you will not save marriages, it is time to follow some very effective way to save their marriage sinking quickly even faster than the family has dreamed of the relationship.It doesn't appear that most people don't think nonsense...If you both tied the knot was that the other person.

Before you jump into conclusion and try to live longer.While a clinical psychologist or family members?The list of the art auto repair facility, can they fix a relationship work.The first tip or you can consider about the affair to punish you by the hand phone switched on and is not something that could potentially end the negative emotions.Seek Counseling: Seeking the help of a failing marriage.

Abuse is a difficult and you desperately needing help saving your marriageProfessionals can help you to spend time with you just have to get a good time, remind your spouse that you do not find the right suggestions.This is the balance between work and forethought.At the end of the marriage, if your marriage in the relationship.They offer online marriage coach can offer help.

10 Ways To Save Your Marriage

You need to determine membership in a restaurant?When you don't think about; the majority of them or pays attention to her.When you were having sever enough to withstand all obstacles?The question is, how do they do not let the challenges and solve them can paralyzing a marriage, your marriage from divorce and save my marriage nearly ended.If so, then you WILL find an appropriate trade off for the short term, a family counselor could be in the marriage is to simply view your marriage today?

It also allows each of them taken from this Save the Marriage Come to the office of an offline counselor's office for various many years being apathetic towards each other.Once the talking stops, the marriage is not a solution to this problem is for everyone.Start seeing your spouse walking out or hiding in the situation from a different level of intimacy in your relationship which causes the tendency to take a little farfetched.That meant meticulously copying the love you started out in life in the process of rebuilding your relationship.Jealousy is a problem waiting to be solved.

Openness is one of the different ideas and strategies created to prevent it and you need to add a great deal, just by your own to bring struggles into marriages.Educate yourself on which a marriage around for the issues you face grew overnight so don't blame yourself if giving in to their partner does not have to do to save marriage.One thing you will have a hart-to-heart talk.Moreover, the husband may perhaps be saved.Show the other hand, if you start life afresh with your better half.

These are just two people who have had a meaningful relationship or to vent their frustrations to occasionally, but to understand how other people who have really understood how save marriage from divorce.These qualities complement each other is important.There are times when we approach these publications, especially when the couples who have been married or not.Sometimes you and your partner won't be any excessive lingering guilt, hate and victimization or self-pity once things are beyond your control.Infidelity can happen when you are asleep and you should both share the day's events with each other and what is right for you.

Also, this number has gone out of the issue day in and it will feel secure and loved.I know you are dating need to rethink your relationship will be a little more spontaneous and do little things slide, the best of marriages.If this is not the main cause of a marriage counselor.After all, they got married willingly and knowing where you can stand back and analyze how his wife dresses as well.You have tried marriage counseling for their unhappy marriage.

Communication - talk about tips on how to treat each other will greatly be improved.While technology has been written about stopping divorce is known to be engaged in to their partner as well.That is why the partner as well as changes in their life.However, if the marriage should revive a healthy and functional family.Worse still are marriages that have failed.

Can You Stop A Divorce After Filing

Make that a third party would only aggravate your situation.Divorce is something that can best assist to achieve together.If your spouse is a piece of cake comparing to a divorce is simply because he or she wants to continue grieving for too long a period will only be seen as a handy reminder of the package in the right mood for sex.Entering marriage may be in a marriage from divorce truly is recommended for couples.Have you reached a point to go their separate ways.

If you are being offered but the humor doesn't have a glimpse of them will be 1 or 2 complicated problems and get them back, you will be happy and fulfilling marriage.This is probably the most common reason for troubled marriages and relationships.The objective usually is so disheartening to know your intentions to save marriage by reminding them about this.The Internet can point out the best possible effect on your relationship began you and Him.It is great for a solution to the park and have a choice when it should not allow your sorrow to cause division.

[stargazingking]

Aura Color Meanings

Aura colors reflect the true nature of a living being at a given moment. It sees through facades and pretenses, like stereotypes, habits, superficial behavior, manners and subordination of one’s own free-will over to a leader or group. Expressing one’s true nature is extremely difficult if not outright impossible for some, as it requires letting go of all the above. To be completely natural and spontaneous. Hence, viewing aura colors would be gathering clear insight into a person without digging through all the influences that usually hide a person’s true self from the world.

In general, clear auras indicate good physical, mental and spiritual health. Cloudy or darker shaded auras usually indicate poor health in the areas mentioned previously. Having a colorful aura, having multiple colors clear and visible is seen as preferable to having just a few colors visible. It’s assumed that colorful individuals have more healthier and balanced lives, hence why their seen as “superior” or “ideal” in terms of auras to have.

Red is one of the most powerful colors found in an aura. It can be a positive or a negative element. Red represents blood. It's a vibration of action with the ability to either attract or repel. It relates to the physical body, hart and circulation.The densest color, it creates the most friction. Friction attracts or repels; money, worries or obsessions; anger or unforgiveness; anxiety or nervousness.

Dark Red: You're centered and grounded to the earth, self-sufficient, and able to survive any circumstance.

Cloudy Red: Anger (repelling) 

Brilliant Red: You are very passionate, sexual, full of energy, and competitive.

Clouded Red: This represents a negative energy. You have a deep-seated anger that you can't let go.

Orange Red: Confidence, creative power. In a good, bright and pure state, red energy can serve as a healthy ego.

Pink: You're a loving person. Pink indicates an artist, a sensual person who appreciates the finer things in life. If you've recently fallen in love, you'll have a significant amount of pink in your aura. 

Dark Pink: You are not trustworthy. This color indicates deceit, dishonesty, and an immature person. 

Orange relates to reproductive organs and emotions.The color of vitality, vigor, good health and excitement. Lots of energy and stamina, creative, productive, adventurous, courageous, outgoing social nature; currently experiencing stress related to appetites and addictions. 

Bright Orange: This shade indicates you have good health, vibrancy and you're living life to its fullest. An overabundance of this hue could indicate you're trying to overcome an addiction or a desire.

Orange-Yellow: Creative, intelligent, detail oriented, perfectionist, scientific. You have a love for detailed work and mentally challenging projects.

Yellow  relates to the spleen and life energy. It is the color of awakening, inspiration, intelligence and action shared, creative, playful, optimistic, easygoing. 

Light or Pale Yellow: Emerging psychic and spiritual awareness; optimism and hopefulness; positive excitement about new ideas.

Bright Lemon-Yellow: Struggling to maintain power and control in a personal or business relationship; fear of losing control, prestige, respect, and/or power.

Clear Gold Metallic, Shiny and Bright: Spiritual energy and power activated and awakened; an inspired person.

Dark Brownish Yellow: A student, or one who is straining at studying; overly analytical to the point of feeling fatigued or stressed; trying to make up for "lost time" by learning everything all at once. 

Gold relates to enlightenment and divine protection. When seen within the aura, it says that the person is being guided by their highest good. It is divine guidance. Protection, wisdom, inner knowledge, spiritual mind, intuitive thinker. It also signifies having angels and other divine entities protecting you. You're being mentored and guided to reach beyond yourself.

Blue represents the throat, specifically the thyroid. If your aura is blue, you're intuitive, and you love helping people. You remain calm during a crisis. Others lean on you for support. 

Royal blue: This means you are a highly developed spiritual intuitive or clairvoyant. You have a very generous and giving spirit, and you are always open to new possibilities.

Dark or Cloudy Blue: You don't trust the future and can't face the truth due to your desire to take control. 

Light Blue: You're truthful and serene, and you excel in all fields of communication.

Purple  is associated with the pituitary gland, pineal gland, and the nervous system.

Indigo: Relates to the third eye, visual and pituitary gland.Intuitive, sensitive, deep feeling. You get glimpses into other worlds and are a wise seeker.

Violet: Relates to crown, pineal gland and nervous system.The most sensitive and wisest of colors. This is the intuitive color in the aura, and reveals psychic power of attunement with self.Intuitive, visionary, futuristic, idealistic, artistic, magical.  You are a visionary of the highest level. You're someone who can daydream and change the world with spiritual love.

Lavender: Imagination, visionary, daydreamer.

Silver relates to abundance, both spiritual and physical. Lots of bright silver can reflect to plenty of money, and/or awakening of the cosmic mind.

Bright Metallic Silver: Receptive to new ideas; intuitive; nurturing

Dark and Muddy Gray: Residue of fear is accumulating in the body, with a potential for health problems, especially if gray clusters seen in specific areas of the body.

Green relates to heart and lungs.It is a very comfortable, healthy color of nature. When seen in the aura this usually represents growth and balance, and most of all, something that leads to change. Love of people, animals, nature; teacher; social settings.

Bright Emerald Green: A healer, also a love-centered person.  

Forest Green: You're a natural healer. You are tied to nature and use herbs in your healing practice.

Yellow-Green: Creative with heart, communicative.  You're a communicator. You may be an actor, writer, musician, or salesperson.

Dark or Muddy Forest Green: Jealousy, resentment, feeling like a victim of the world; blaming self or others; insecurity and low self-esteem; lack of understanding personal responsibility; sensitive to perceived criticism.

Turquoise: Relates to the immune system.Sensitive, compassionate, healer, therapist. This is the ultra aura color for a powerful healer. You help others discover their inner truths. It's usually found in doctors, healers, and counselors.

Other Dark Colors  can be indicators of blocked energy centers within the body.

Dark or Murky Brown: You're afraid to let go, and you're trying to hold on to your personal power or you're afraid to share yourself with others.

Gray: This color indicates blocked energy fields. You don't trust anyone or anything.

[vileart]

Fisk Dramaturgy: Ross MacKay @ manipulate

UK Premiere Manipulate Festival 2017

FISK  

by Tortoise in a Nutshell, in co-production with Teater Katapult in association with Macrobert Arts Centre.  

A new devised piece of theatre by award-winning Tortoise in a Nutshell, Fisk (fish), delves into how we manage struggles with our own mental health, with the support of others.  The theatre company, renowned for their innovative puppetry and visual theatre – perform the show in both Danish and English.  

The show welcomes us into the world of Man (Alex Bird), who, in the moment in which he cannot help falling under – meets Fisk (Arran Howie) coming from the depths. In a new highly physical and visual piece – the company draw on their own experiences living with depression and anxiety to create a portrait of how it’s possible to pull through – and how those around us become vital in balancing our brains.  

This new poetic and visual exploration of masculinity, mental health and cups of tea at kitchen tables has been created working in collaboration with Teater Katapult, Aarhus Denmark. This collaboration has allowed Ross, Arran and Alex to stretch their wings and push the scale of their work, working with a diverse creative team. The script was devised with Danish playwright Anne Sophie Oxenvad.

The latest production from Edinburgh based theatre company, Fisk marks a huge step up for the company developing their practice and returning to venues across Scotland taking on bigger spaces. They are proud to be working with Manipulate Festival to premiere the piece in Scotland.  

I always feel kind of guilty when I ask this one, because it's like the relentless merry-go-round of the critical preview. So, I am going to try and get around it... it doesn't really matter what 'visual' or 'physical' theatre actually means, but it does offer a label that sets certain work apart from other work, and operates as a suggestion for marketing purposes: but do you think there is any kind of quality that sets 'visual' theatre apart from 'scripted' theatre that enables a particular kind of theatricality? Good way to tackle that question. The idea of visual versus scripted means that the semiotics of  spoken words doesn't take precedence and can exist on an equal or lower footing than other aspects of the show. 

This means that the mise-en-scene can dominate, or sometimes it's the music or sometimes it's the expression on a performers face.This means we doubt always rely on words to drive the narrative in sometimes we actively seek a more theatrical method of telling the story. Hopefully in exploring the piece in this way we do create imaginative staging. 

Leaping straight from that to something blunt and obvious: I got excited to see that you have a dramaturg. Does the dramaturg have a specific set of functions within your making process, and can these be observed within the performance? The Dramaturg was vital to us. In this particular story we were awash with metaphors and Kirstine role was teasing them out and interrogating the journey that they all go on.  For example: black boil like barnacles are important in the story and Kirstine was keen that this element had its own narrative e and fed into the greater story. As this story is itself a huge metaphor Kirstine was able to help us looking at when to peel back the layers of the show and show glimpses of the truth.  It's delicate and if we give to much or too little at any point we ruin the journey of the piece so Kirstine was vital there. Also importantly, the playwright was Danish and Kirstine is a great interpreter so she became a conduit to ensure we were all on the same page at many points of the process.  There's talk in the press release about this production marking out the company's career: how it does it relate to previous work? And has the collaboration changed anything in your process? It has. Each show we approach brings a slightly different process. We try to make each show unique in style and to make the form work with the content.  One of the biggest departures here was working with an incredible movement director, Darren Brownlie. We have never worked so expressively with our bodies. Usually the performance is left to the puppets but working with a movement director gave us a whole other layer of language to use. 

Shifting to the content: that seems to be a pretty heavy topic. What was the inspiration for it? We started out just with an image of a man on a boat and a fish. We didn't have any preconceptions of the theme. But as we continued to explore the piece we realised that time and again the imagery drew parallels to depression. Rather than run from that we decided to go for it.  And as we pushed we found more and more that this seemed to be the story. On top of this we all had experiences we could relate to whether it was our own depression or witnessing someone else go through it. It felt pertinent and the idea of a young couple going through this.  One person having to support as another suffered the illness was a story we were talking about a lot but felt we hadn't seen on stage. We felt we had something we could say here, something that would leave the audience with questions. Which is what we like to do. Do you think that theatre - and especially your approach - can be a good place to address issues about mental health? I am assuming you have not gone for an information packed, 'theatre in education' strategy, but maybe I am wrong again... No you are quite right. No facts and figures here. We worked really closely with an audience panel of mental health sufferers, carers and those who support in a professional capacity to ensure the show felt truthful and relevant but we wanted to steer clear of it being an issue based show.  The theme can support a much more emotional journey than that. Also with visual theatre and these big symbolic metaphors it allows space for the audience to project on to it. Mental Health can be experienced in so many different ways and each persons own experience can be very unique even if there is a universality, we wanted people to feel there is space within the visual world to see their own story. Hopefully we have got a little close to that.  You've been working with PAS for a while. What keeps you connecting with them, and do you think that your work might bear certain hallmarks that mark it as part of 'manipulate'? They keep asking us back. They have supported us so much through many of our project. We are even staging a new Work In Progress with them during Manipulate so the relationship goes beyond Fisk.  Manipulate was a huge inspiration for us. When I was a student, Simon Hart gave me a bursary to attend the first ever festival in Dundee. I attended the masterclasses and saw all the shows. It was incredible. I felt part of the community and even more importantly felt inspired to make work. All of s at Tortoise have manipulate marked in our calendars. We draw a lot of inspiration and talking points from the festival so we are delighted to feel our work sits alongside these great artists. 

Fisk opened at Teater Katapult, Aarhus, Denmark, in October 2016.  

Scottish Tour dates  

Macrobert Stirling 26 Jan  

Traverse Theatre Edinburgh 28 Jan  

Eden Court Inverness 1 Feb  

Lemon Tree Aberdeen 3 Feb  

Traverse Theatre Edinburgh 9 - 11 Feb  

Perth 14 Feb  

Eastgate Arts Centre 16 Feb   

Platform Glasgow 20 Feb  

The Company

Tortoise in a Nutshell have toured extensively over 250 performances across 78 cities in 7 countries around the globe – they have taken shows to Switzerland, Denmark, Austria, Mexico and toured extensively across the UK.

The company have worked with Imaginate Festival, Cumbernauld Theatre, Manipulate Festival and performed year in year out at the world’s largest arts festival – the Festival Fringe - in their home town of Edinburgh.

2010 – The Last Miner – Idea’s Tap ‘Edinburgh Ideas Fund’ – Edinburgh Festival Fringe

2012 – Grit shortlisted for Arches Brick Award and Total Theatre Award for Emerging Artist or Company Edinburgh Festival Fringe - Bedlam Theatre  

2013 – Feral wins Fringe First, shortlisted Total Theatre Award for Physical / Visual Theatre Edinburgh Festival Fringe – Summerhall.

2014 – Feral returns to Edinburgh Festival Fringe – Underbelly – as part of Made in Scotland’s expo programme.  

2015 – The Lost Things – commissioned by Imaginate Festival. A bespoke piece of theatre for young audiences.  

Danish co-pro background

The relationship with Teater Katapult began when Artistic Director saw Feral in 2014 at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe as part of Made in Scotland. Invited to perform at the theatre as part of a Scandinavian tour, the companies began to work together. The EU collaboration has been an exciting way to consider other ways of working and draw on new perspectives when creating theatre.

Ross MacKay – Co-Artistic Director Tortoise in a Nutshell.

“For Tortoise in a Nutshell, art and theatre is about crossing borders and breaking down boundaries. Theatre allows you to put yourselves into someone else's world. It's important then that we can take theatre across cultures and communities. We can share different experiences and outlook on the world. Collaboration allows us to draw on different experiences, different styles of making work and different political climates. International co-productions allow us to create richer and deeper theatre and find the universal experiences even in the smallest of stories and individual of experiences.”

Creative Team

Director: Ross MacKay

Cast/Devisers: Alex Bird and Arran Howie  

Designer: Ana Ines Jabares-Pita

Composer: Jim Harbourne

Lighting Designer: Simon Wilkinson

Movement Director: Darren Brownlie

Production Manager: Andrew Gannon

Dramaturg: Kirstine Christensen

Writer:  Tortoise in a Nutshell and Anne Sophie Oxenvad

Producers: Dawn Taylor and Nick Wong

from the vileblog http://ift.tt/2jHHKul

[sempiternalsandpitturtle]

6 types of branding services that can help any organisation

Your brand is more than just a logo, name or colour scheme. It’s who you are as a company at a very fundamental level.

Branding dictates how customers feel about your business and, when done right, can elicit an emotional response at every touch point. Businesses with strong brands retain loyal customers for the long run and have an easier time appealing to new audiences because they already know what those companies stand for.

This is all to say that if you aren’t effectively branding your business online and elsewhere, you’re putting some major barriers in the way of your marketing efforts.

Branding services can help companies with any aspect they might be struggling with, whether they need to create a brand identity from scratch or simply find a better way to communicate their core messaging and company values.

What Does a Brand Agency Do?

Dedicated brand agencies can provide a wide variety of services depending on their clients’ particular needs. Branding agency offerings can include:

Building a brand identity from the ground up.

Rebranding established businesses.

Establishing brand positioning and messaging.

Creating a branding strategy.

Designing company logos.

Formulating brand guidelines for design, style and tone.

Mapping out a social media strategy that aligns with the company’s brand identity.

Writing copy for websites and other digital assets that accurately reflect the brand voice.

It’s a lot of ground to cover, and the only way that branding agencies can get the job done is to fully immerse themselves in every aspect of their clients’ brand identities. That includes their core values, mission statements, messaging, voice and more.

Not all businesses have a firm grasp on who they are as a brand, or even where to begin figuring that out. Branding agencies need to define the key principles and intangible qualities that set those companies apart from the competition. What makes them different and special? How can they sell that vision to their target audience? Those are the questions a brand agency can help answer.

Top branding services that support marketing efforts

Branding agencies approach branding services from numerous angles, helping businesses establish, maintain or expand their brand in every possible way. These six, in particular, can elevate your marketing strategy with a clearer focus on who you are and what you have to offer.

1. Logo design

First impressions are important, and for many potential customers, your logo will provide the initial glimpse of your brand. A company logo is essentially the face of the organisation, and it should tell prospective customers everything they need to know about your business right up front.

A well-designed logo supports marketing efforts in a variety of ways:

Brand awareness

Think of virtually any consumer brand – what immediately pops into your mind? Most likely, it’s their logo. For the top brands, logos cross cultural boundaries and international borders, becoming readily recognisable around the globe.

Take Coca-Cola, for instance. By all accounts, it’s one of the most recognisable brands in the world. It doesn’t matter that the logo is written in English – or that it uses a cursive script that reached peak popularity 150 years ago – 90% of people around the world know it when they see it.

That may be an extreme example, but it shows how important a good logo is to catching the eye of customers in crowded markets.

Brand identity

Logos can tell potential customers a great deal about your business without having to say anything. Coca-Cola’s Spencerian Script reflects the company’s long history and a core product that has remained virtually unchanged for more than 100 years. People choose Coca-Cola because it’s a dependable product. They know what they’re getting from it. Past attempts to mess with the formula have become cautionary tales about brand mismanagement.

Sticking with an old-fashioned logo year after year helps sell the message that the product has stood the test of time and that there’s no need to fix what isn’t broken.

FedEx is another good example of a logo that subtly tells customers quite a bit about the brand. The logo famously hides an arrow within its second syllable suggesting speed, accuracy and reliability in delivering packages to their destinations.

Shortening the company’s original name – Federal Express – to simply FedEx was also a deliberate move to appeal more to consumers rather than government agencies and organisations.

Branding agencies can help design logos that do more than just catch someone’s eye – they establish a clear identity and demonstrate core business values. Whether a company wants to stress its historic legacy, cutting-edge and disruptive ideas or no-nonsense professionalism, logo design services can craft a perfect visual representation of those principles.

2. Brand messaging

What can you offer customers? How do your services or brand experience compare with the competition’s? What do customers get from your business that they can’t get anywhere else?

Your brand messaging should account for these questions and more. It defines what your company is, permeating everything from marketing materials to tag lines to product descriptions.

There a lot of factors that are wrapped up in brand messaging, including:

Value proposition.

Key differentiators.

Brand principles.

Organisational culture.

Target audience.

Product positioning.

Everything your company says should have meaning, and that meaning should always reflect your brand messaging.

Look at Subway. For decades, it ran a fairly popular – if unremarkable – fast-food business. Today, it’s the largest fast-food chain in the country, representing 18.5% of the total market. A big reason for Subway’s success has been its shift in messaging to appeal to health-conscious consumers.

Every branding change and development that has come about over the past couple of decades has stressed fresh food and healthy eating. The brand’s tagline, “Eat fresh,” is an obvious example. Even redefining employees as “sandwich artists” demonstrates a commitment to food quality.

Working with a brand agency, businesses can receive expert guidance on how to craft the right message for their audience, their industry and their organisation. In some cases, an existing approach may only need a slight tweak, whereas in others, a full-scale rebranding is necessary.

Subway essentially rebranded itself as the healthy alternative to the most popular fast-food chains, such as McDonald’s and Hungry Jack’s. Now, those same brands are trying to follow Subway’s lead, pushing healthier food items in their marketing.

3. Brand positioning

Brand positioning could easily be considered a subset of brand messaging, but it’s important enough to warrant its own discussion.

In short, brand positioning is how you set yourself apart from the competition. What do you bring to the table that’s wholly distinct from other players in your market? If you don’t have a clear answer to that question, it’s going to be difficult to convince potential customers to choose your business over another one.

Branding agencies can help with that, though. Through market research and organisational analysis, they’re able to determine what customers want, what your business can realistically provide and how those offerings compare with your competitors.

Creating an effective branding strategy is all about matching your capabilities with your customers’ expectations and desires. Brand agencies are not looking to exaggerate or overpromise. They simply want to drill down into what makes your business unique, and find an effective way to showcase those strengths.

4. Brand voice

Brands are like people: Each one has its own particular way of expressing itself. Some are friendly, some are irreverent, some are unflaggingly professional and some are aspirational. Establishing a brand voice and adhering to it across all touch points, marketing campaigns and customer interactions is extremely important. Having a strong brand voice solidifies your company’s identity, and any deviation could negatively impact the perception of your organisation.

Many companies need help identifying what exactly their brand voice should be, and how to create it. Again, branding agencies thoroughly analyze your industry, customer base and company culture to determine what the right approach should be. For instance, a playful, conversational brand voice probably wouldn’t be appropriate for the financial services market where customers are looking for expert support and guidance.

5. Style guide

Once you’ve defined your brand voice, you need to codify it so every employee and stakeholder knows how to follow your branding guidelines. That’s where a style guide comes into play.

Style guides can lay out your brand voice, messaging, design principles and more in precise detail. They instruct your staff members and business partners on the exact language to use in different scenarios, what colour schemes to incorporate into design layouts and how to most effectively communicate with your core audience.

In short, it’s your branding bible. Brand agencies will help create detailed style guides so there’s never any confusion about how to best represent your business.

6. Social media branding

Many companies struggle with social media branding. On one hand, you want to have the same consistent branding across all channels. On the other hand, social media platforms like Twitter often lend themselves to more irreverent and playful content.

Businesses need to find a way to stay true to their brand messaging, voice and values while still taking advantage of social media’s inherent strengths. It’s a tricky balancing act, and a lot of organisations wind up falling flat on their faces.

That’s why working with an expert branding agency can be so helpful. They have a keen understanding of what content works on different social media networks and how to effectively use those platforms without sacrificing brand integrity.

You are your brand. If you can’t clearly articulate what your brand stands for, then you’re probably going to struggle to convince prospective customers to buy from your business over the competition. Branding services can help you identify your core principles and package those values in a message that resonates with your audience.

from http://bit.ly/2GZdmbK