#pure iron bangle

[onlinesikhstore]

Sarbloh Kara Meditation Praying Beads Sikh Singh Kaur Khalsa Simran Bangle DD2 Sarbloh Meditation Praying Beads (Solid Beads) Hindu Budh Sikh Singh Kaur Simrana Kara. Kara Ref: DD2 Size of each bead is approx 8mm, separator Bead/Big Bead is approx 1.1cm 28 Beads Simarana Sarbloh Sikh Kara - Meditation Beads Please note 28 beads are only in Kara over size 6cm, Kara less than 6cm has 25 and 24 beads. Number of beads will vary (either 27 + 1 beads or 25 beads or 24 beads) in each bracelet. If you are after particular number of beads please let us know in order notes (Subject to availability) Every one should own one of these. "This Masterpiece, a Pleasure to own, a delight to receive" Will be a beautiful gift on Christmas or on some other occasions. Made with Pure Sarbloh - Loha (Iron) - this is a premium quality product  - excellent beads  for removing negativity and negative energy of any kind and  transforming them to positive energy. It is also a very protective and grounding stone.   Sarbloh Beads helps with creativity, prioritising needs and wants, and wisdom. In addition, Sarbloh beads are beads that brings abundance, prosperity, good luck and good for meditation. Why use the Meditation Beads? Meditation can be quite a tricky practice because the mind is like a naughty child. By its very nature, the mind tends to wander off during the meditation practice. If ones energy is low at the time of meditation, falling asleep can result. If the energy is too high, fantasy and distraction become the barriers.  At such times, the mala provides the much needed anchor. The mala beads are moved in rhythm with the breath and the mantra, so that both-sleep as well as excessive mental distraction-are prevented by this action upon the beads. For wearing: A personal mala is a wonderful accessory to meditation, which when used regularly with a personal mantra, absorbs the vibrations of the practice.  It becomes like a close friend or a comfortable piece of clothing! How to Use?  The mala is traditionally held in the right hand and used in two ways - in one method; the mala is hanging between the thumb and the ring (third) finger.  The thumb is used to rotate the mala by one bead towards oneself with each repetition of the mantra. In the other method, the mala is hanging on any finger. Hand Held Meditation Beads SIMARNA KARA/Bracelet  Ideal Meditation Mala for Sikhs, Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists, Yogis & many more. Sarbloh Beads Stunning Kara, also used as: ·  Mala · Praying Beads · Meditation Beads Please note Rust is characteristic of pure iron/sarbloh and you will notice these on beads. On wearing these beads acquire blackish taint and won't rust. These only rust when these are taken off for few weeks due to oxidation process. These can be easily cleaned with sharp sand or soap. Singhs use coconut oil to keep these rust free.                                                                              Brilliant finish and very decorative. Ideal gift item for loved ones on any Occasion. We provide funky looking Gift Bag with our all Kara. Please follow us on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter @OnlineSikhStore #OnlineSikhStore Free Royal Mail Postage in UK.  Postage discounts will be given to International buyers for multi-buys. Any questions please do not hesitate to contact us. P.S. Colour of item may slightly vary due to camera flash and light conditions. Size is approximate it and may differ by few mm from Kara to Kara or because of Digital Vernier Calliper errors.

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Prince Malleus Draconia vs Human Pettiness

So we’ve all heard about the trope of angry humans doing petty stuff to avoid their supernatural s/o’s. Like dating a werewolf and wearing silver, or dating a vampire and eating Italian (or entering a house that they haven’t been invited to) or dating a demon sitting in a salt circle or even dating a fairy and wearing iron.

So let’s say you’ve had an argument with your unfairly handsome fae boyfriend and later, being the stubborn-as-a-mule human you are, realise that even though you’ve somewhat calmed down, you’re still very cross with him so you decide to get back in your own way. You may have come into Twisted Wonderland with no magic but you did possess the stories and folklore of your non-magical world. You grew up with the tales of the men and women of yore that whispered horror stories of curses, kidnappings and enchantments, fairy rings and changeling children - and it’s time to put your childhood fascination of the once-fictional-but-now-part-of-your-reality to shine.

Of course, you started with the iron jewellery; any type of bijouterie in your possession that you could possibly wear, you did. Rings, necklaces, bangles, anklets, earrings, chains, studs on your clothing, the prong of your belt, even the clips in your hair - all made out of pure iron (most of them a gift from Leona for reasons you weren’t too sure you wanted to know). You even managed to replace the buttons of your school blazer for shiny new metallic ones.

Next, you fortified your stronghold to ensure that any pesky fairies wouldn’t be able to enter. You hung up an iron horseshoe onto the door of Ramshackle and sprinkled salt all around its perimeter. You found some of your old clothes that were no longer in use and turned them inside out before placing them both inside Ramshackle and outside. Next you hung up bells and deep-toned wind chimes on as many places on Ramshackle’s exterior you could find. Then, after marvelling at your handiwork, you went to your bedroom and relaxed.

*Insert a pouting Malleus sulking ten feet away from you, physically unable to come closer, mentally debating whether or not he should be impressed by your commitment*

[luimnigh]

So I stumbled onto an interesting Wikipedia page today.

In the aftermath of 9/11, iHeartRadio (then Clear Channel Communications), circulated a list among it's radio stations of songs they were advised against playing.

And a lot of these do make sense. Songs about airplanes, explosions, violence, falling... yeah, no, I get that stuff. Completely understandable to avoid them.

However, there's also plenty of stuff on the list that's questionable.

For some, I just have no idea what the connection is. Green Day's Brain Stew (a song about insomnia), Metallica's Enter Sandman, The Hollies' He Ain't Heavy He's My Brother, Alanis Morrisette's Ironic... All of those seem like they shouldn't have anything objectionable.

There also seemed to be a ban on mentioning New York? Like, okay, AC/DC's Safe In New York City would be in poor taste, but Frank Sinatra's New York, New York is practically the city's anthem. Feels weird to ban that.

But there's also some stuff that, looking back, is absolutely a political choice.

To begin with, they banned the entire discography of Rage Against The Machine. Which, yeah, that's a choice.

They also banned The Bangles' Walk Like An Egyptian, and The Clash's Rock The Casbah, which appear to have been excluded purely based on their references to the Middle East. The banning of Neil Diamond's America (a pro-immigration song) also feels incredibly suspect.

But the reason I ended up on this Wikipedia page in the first place is that I was looking up a song, and it's page mentioned it was one of the banned songs:

War, by Edwin Starr.

You know the one:

War! Hoo! Yeah!

What is it good for?

Absolutely nothing!

Telling stations not to play one of the most famous anti-war songs at a time where America's leadership, and a large chunk of the American populace, was chomping at the bit to illegally invade multiple countries and destabilise the entire region based on flimsy evidence?

Absolutely a politically motivated choice. And an act of moral cowardice.

[edenspetals]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ꒰🥀꒱ rhyraël ៸៸

ଓ.° “ oh aren't you just the sweetest little dream. . . ’

·⊰ species: mana spirit

·⊰ sex: male

·⊰ age: unknown

·⊰ hair colour: black

·⊰ eye colour: deep purple

·⊰ mbti: ENTJ

·⊰ about: the literal boogeyman but with a twist, rhyraël is the creature that many will tell their children of. however, his main target is in fact adults as their fear grants him far more power. at a staggering height of 7’5’’ and a pale skin tone, he maintains this in both his human form and ‘nightmarish form’. in his nightmarish form, he has a head of long, ebony black hair which extends past his waist and dark purple eyes with the whites of his eyes being black while his irises are slitted. sharp canines with generally sharp teeth which are paired with his elongated tongue that bears a simple piercing at the middle. at the centre of his forehead a small red gem forms some sort of vermilion mark and is encrusted in. from his temples extend two sets of black horns which he often adorns in jewellery, typically gold or silver chains with amethyst gems dangling from them. his ears are long and pointed and he wears a variety of piercings, typically hoops along his helixes. however, he also has chain earrings which connect to the hoops and join at a stud on his lobe which then extends a smaller chain with a gem attached to it. his fingers extend long, sharp, claw-like nails that are often black. this dark colour also bleeds onto the tips of his fingers. his lips often bear black lipstick, solely on his top lip while he also wears eyeliner around his lids but also extends them into wings on his lids. in his human form his horns are hidden and his ears are that of a human along with all his other monster features. his hair remains the same and his eyes mimic human eyes with his same eye colour. his outfits range from robes such as this to more modernised black suits, dress-shirts and suit pants — this goes for both of his forms. He also wears dark bangles around his wrists along with dark rings on his fingers.

as stated earlier. rhyraël is, quite literally, the boogeyman. he’s been around for an indefinite amount of time but his story isn't exactly what humans have adapted it out to be. known as a 'mana spirit', his very being centres around the universe and it's life essence. as such it's only natural that he draws his energy from the world's creatures, particularly — fear. while he also draws energy from sin ( greed, lust, deceit, violence ) and corruption, fear is what strengthens him the most. he is a rather cunning individual with a great amount of pride but an equal deal of witt. he takes his reputation with pride although ironically has some distaste towards 'the boogeyman' name and leans more towards 'the shadowman' if not his actual name. while he does have quite a short fuse this isn't particularly evident as he masks this anger with sadistic slyness and feigned amusement. on the topic of his humour he tends to have a rather ( pun intended ) dark humour. he's smug, sarcastic and overall ruthless, especially when it comes to his line of work. he's also considered to have quite the charm and charisma towards other people — not to mention, he is a bit of a flirt.

at the onset of his creation, rhyraël was born alongside a twin brother whom he loved deeply. the two were promised greatness and were tasked with the duty of maintaining order in the physical world and protecting its inhabitants. however, he found it difficult in using the pure tactics and powers that were said to be the 'only way' and often fell short of his brother. as they grew older, rhyraël discovers that he was in fact never destined to rise to greatness and was in fact, determined to fall into corruption so that "balance" could be maintained with his brother being the "inherently good force" whilst rhyraël was meant to be the "inherently evil force." in a fit of rage, he commits patricide ( as it is his father who determined his downfall and ultimately picked his brother over him ) and engages in a horrendous duel with his brother as a result. in the end, neither of them win and rhyraël flees. it is now that he learns he is far more talented in the darkness and discovers his true powers. from that day forth, he vows to end his brother and take back his birthright.

he is a businessman by trade, a leader by right and a mercenary by skill. seeing as though he quite literally gains strength through the corruption, sins and fear of others, what better occupation in the modern world than that of the leader to one of the most renowned underground crime guilds? this guild, known as talon, has their hands in both mercenary work and mob networks in both the mortal and supernatural world. a wide array of dark creatures operate in this guild, some of which are his own creations whilst others are not. rhyraël states, "the fear in someone's eyes just before they pass on tastes almost as divine as one's fear of the unknown. with that being said, he also enjoys the traditional approach of spooking someone with paranormal occurrences as it is the way in which he first started off after his turn to the darker side. he frequently has run-ins with his brother who leads an intelligence and national security agency in the modern world ( it also doubles over to handle supernatural issues ) that directly opposes talon. he and his brother are in competition now.

with a lover, rhyraël is still quite cunning although it is watered down to a playful sort of malice as he enjoys eliciting reactions out of you. especially that of embarrassment and fluster. he's quite the shameless individual who says what's on his mind especially when it comes to you ( most of which serve to fluster you. ) as stated earlier he can be a bit of a flirt which is only amplified around you — he especially adores teasing you. with all that being said rhyraël is also quite protective and might be borderline possessive over you. he's had what was supposed to be his taken before and he refuses to let it happen again. while you might not be aware, he almost always has one of his henchman giving him full reports regarding you when he isn't around for the sake of your safety. he is very aware that he's made a lot of enemies and thus cannot bear the thought of you being hurt as a result. he is also a very passionate lover and extends his affection in both physical and verbal methods. sometimes he'll spin you around whilst you're busy with who knows what and kiss you until your breathless. other times he'll wrap his arms around you — maybe while you're waiting in line for a coffee and simply hold you in his embrace or press kisses down your neck. apart from all of this, rhyraël would need someone to break through the barriers he's set up for himself. he may not be entirely good at this love thing but damn will he try for you.

·⊰ strengths:

ଓ.° fear detection and manipulation — the ability to sense one's fears. he can see all their fears and depending on how weak a person is mentally, he can induce terror into them. fear is his ultimate source of power. this includes nightmares, he can both induce and manipulate them

ଓ.° dark mana — he has control over dark mana and can create, shape and manipulate it into physical projections. he draws this mana from living beings and thus actively harms them in the process

ଓ.° shadow teleportation — the ability to travel and teleport through shadows

ଓ.° shadow animation — be it temporary or actual living beings, he can draw dark mana and negative energy to create aparations of creatures. this is also how his makes his underlings

ଓ.° shapeshifting — the ability to change his appearance

·⊰ weaknesses:

ଓ.° white mana — the complete opposite to his dark mana which prides itself on positive and pure energy. this can harm and weaken him. if the is user his on his level ( his brother ) it can be fatal

ଓ.°courage inducement — a trait of his brother's side. depending on the strength of the wielder with this ability it can counter his fear inducement

ଓ.°daytime — while he is not affected too harshly he does become only a tad bit weaker in daytime. nothing too extreme but it does limit his shadow teleportation

ଓ.°light-based powers — any of these abilities outright counter his and weaken him. they can cause injury

[samaya11]

The Godess Awakens

In my room

For my Grandmother Deviben born 1923-2001

As Amba Patel in Limbe, Malawi

4 am - London

In my room

The Goddess awakens

me with Her singing

I have been holding her hand as I sleep

Her thin long bony fingers

The only protection I need from

the shifting shadows on the wall

The monsters under the bed

At 6am

The six year old me watches

from under thick tartan blankets

as she performs her holy ablutions

After her own morning rituals

Combing silver strands into

Thin tight helix braid

Fraying at the ends

Mimicking the DNA strands

That bind us

Decontaminating

Is her holy ritual

She is elbows

She is force

Carving at the decay

And grime the world brings

Shakti

There is Dettol and Vicks and incense

To cleanse the body and the spirit according to her methods

Dressed in white head to toe

Mostly white hair in a bun

Pure sari on an impossibly long thin frame whit

Thick white wooly socks that once wore toe rings

She is not delicate

Never that

She is firm and flattens us all smooth like a hot iron with nothing but her sharp tongue

And expectations

Pressing out all the creases

I inherited from my mother

with their unforgiving steam

She is brittle and hard like iron

Yet even kyphosis is elegant on her

If you can make her laugh and smile

You can rewind the years to see

Her warm joy before it was stolen

By customs, tragedy, migration

She is a misplaced bird

With wings she can never use

locked away in this cage of duty

Within invisible parameters

Society calls love

From under the bed covers I watch

as she bathes her murtis by dawn light

Then proceeds to greet them and divide the entire universe evenly into 18 sacred sections

Gita Ganga Gayatri

Sita Satya Sarasvati

Brahmavidya …

20 years later

Long after the clearest memories of her gold bangles are gone

The sweet fragrance of Vibhuti, Bhasma, Chandan and kumkum fade

I search for the Hindu Gods In the periodic table

Particularly Shani

Nilanjan Samabhasam

Ravi Putra Yama Ganjam…

As my way of communion with her spirit of intellectual curiosity mixed with childlike wonder and faith. My attempt of reaching back through time to bridge the ionic bonds

That tore her family apart

If she had been born in any other era she would have manifested her true power

And ruled the world firmly but compassionately and changed it for the better.

Now

As I study my microbiology notes and antiseptic techniques

There She is again

Her teachings her blessings

Acting as the phospholipids

In my spiritual membrane

Her Hygiene OCDs justified

Open tap

Wash hands

Wash taps

Wash hands again

In scalding soapy water

Open cabinet door

Wash hands

Her methodology

For reverence

Godliness next to

Cleanliness

If only if I could have told her about Lister & Louis Pasteur

I’m sure she would have smiled and agreed

They were worthy of Murtis too

But I am done collecting old Gods & New

Decades later I realise

While I was searching for the wrong God in all the cliched places

All I need to remember

Is DeviMa of my youth

X /18= 108

4am - Houston

In My room

The Goddess awakens

Within Me.

Priya Ramesh Desai, 2023 @Samaya11

[spell-cleaver]

Whumptober No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding

Read it on AO3 or on FFN instead!

“You must be kidding me.”

The Twi’lek woman offering her the costume apparently didn’t speak Basic. She just tilted her head and gave Leia an unimpressed look. The sequined headdress she wore around her lekku and her ear cones had bells dangling around her forehead, into her eyes, which jangled with the motion. The heaps of bangles at her wrists clinked together musically as well, a thousand shades of gold and silver and every gem known to the galaxy set into them. Leia wondered how much only one of those was worth, and if it would be enough to buy this slave woman’s freedom.

Wondered what the punishment for theft was, if she hadn’t already tried that.

Clearly thinking her look had been enough to cow Princess Leia Organa, she held out the costume again. Another slave—a Rodian man, this time—stepped forwards and unzipped her bounty hunter disguise, tearing it off her shoulder without bothering to be gentle; Leia whirled around and smacked him, hard.

“I can undress myself,” she bit out.

He just gave her that look as well. “Can you?” he asked in heavily accented Basic. He muttered in Huttese, “Arrogant princess.”

“I am a princess. And I am arrogant. And I will not stand for this.” But she gasped with pain when the Twi’lek woman closed her hand around Leia’s now-exposed shoulder. With how tightly she clutched it, her long, painted nails were sharp enough to almost draw blood.

Almost.

“Are you going to put this on or not?” she murmured in Leia’s ear in Huttese. Leia’s blood boiled.

She glanced back at the costume. It was gold. Likely not pure gold—that was a cruel, tasteless extravagance even in the household of a cruel, tasteless Hutt. But it was all metal, in the anticipation that whatever slave girl forced into it would have to make her skeleton fit its contours, not the other way around. When she touched it, it seemed cold as ice despite the sweltering heat.

The Twi’lek woman was wearing a bikini of precisely the same make, though it had some more embellishments, and actually looked made to fit her body. More bells dangled from that, and she seemed to have earned some fabric or padding on the inside to make it comfier. She tilted her head again at Leia’s silence.

“You don’t have many choices, princess,” she said again in Huttese.

“I won’t be here long,” Leia assured her, though she tried to keep the bite out of her voice. The woman wasn’t cruel. She was just pragmatic, she could tell. Pragmatic and scared—even a little bit scared for her.

“I was in the throne room. If your Jedi friend is real, he can’t help you. Even if he does, you’re still stuck here until then. Do not make this more difficult for yourself,” her face softened, “and you will make it bearable.”

“That’s the last thing I want to do,” Leia informed her.

The Rodian man scoffed. “Stop coddling her!” he snapped. “Bring the whip. She doesn’t have a choice—”

The Twi’lek’s hand, still on Leia’s shoulder, tightened painfully. “If you whip her,” she said delicately, “the injuries will show. You know you do not whip the dancing girls.”

“You won’t get me to dance for him,” Leia bit out.

“There are plenty of ways to dance, princess. Your job covers several.”

“She can start work tomorrow,” he said irritably. “But if she does not obey—”

“Whip that man she loves instead, then,” the Twi’lek woman said, bored. “She brought him off the wall. You have access to the cells.”

Leia started forwards, but the Twi’lek’s grip was like iron. “Leave him out of this—”

The man’s grin was more like a sneer. “You do have some good ideas, then, Irdina.”

Irdina said nothing. Even when he left, and Leia yanked herself around to glare, she said nothing.

“You bastard. Why have you—”

“Jabba doesn’t like his girls injured in places he can see,” she said simply. “If you’ll cooperate no other way…”

“Leave him alone!”

“He may not be allowed access to the cells.” She shrugged. “And Karrd may not even do it. He’s bloodthirsty, but—”

“But what?”

Irdina gestured to the bikini again. “You can stop resisting.”

Leia was proud, but she was still sensible. She put on the bikini, watching anxiously for Karrd’s return. It took long enough that he was starting to hope it would not come, until—

Grunting. Swearing. And, into this cellar where pleasure slaves dolled themselves up, Karrd dragged Han through.

Leia schooled her expression like she was back in the Senate and watched. Han was still blind from the carbonite, she could tell; he stared wildly around, spitting on Karrd where he could and getting cuffed across the face for his troubles. She swallowed at the sight of it.

Karrd, his hand fisted in the back of Han’s shirt, looked up and smirked at Leia. “Good. She put it on. The hair?”

“About to do that,” Irdina said, then reached for the clasp in her bun. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, long and sticky with sweat. Irdina didn’t hesitate to reach for it, but Leia backed away.

“Not my hair,” she insisted. Her hair was sacred. It was far too intimate, far too much of a violation, to let someone else touch it. She wouldn’t put it into a style for someone else.

Karrd rolled his eyes and reached for a whip. “Alright, then.”

“Leia?” Han rasped. “Is that you? Don’t give them anything—”

The whip cracked. In a flash, it had left a long line of blood down Han’s back, splitting his shirt and skin alike. He screamed. Leia screamed too.

“Han! Stop! I’ll let you do my hair!”

“Good,” Irdina said, grimacing as she turned away from the horrid display and taking Leia’s hair in her hands. “Quickly, now—”

But Karrd didn’t move to put down the whip. “Han?” he asked. “I didn’t know that. You’re Han Solo?”

Han spat, “What’s it to you?”

He leaned in close, his needle-like teeth bared. “Greedo was my brother,” he said, and cracked the whip again. Han shouted, his back bucking, head wrenching back.

“Stop! Stop it, I’ll cooperate!”

“It’s not about you anymore, princess.”

Leia pulled forwards, but Irdina didn’t let go of her hair. She was still plaiting it, her strong hands slowly but methodically weaving the strands together. When Leia pulled, it just pulled the line taut.

“Stop this,” Leia begged. “Get him to—”

“I can’t,” Irdina said, and the genuine pain in her voice made Leia hate her all the more.

“Leia,” Han got out in thumping, stinging breaths, spitting blood onto the ground. “Are you—alright?” Every word seemed to enrage Karrd more: the whip strokes were faster, weaker, messier now, splattering Han’s back like shrapnel.

“I’m fine, Han, you—”

The whip caught around Han’s throat and bit in deep. Han choked and clawed at it, but the recoil nearly took his fingers off. When he fell to his knees, Karrd did not stop: he kept beating, and beating, and beating…

Blood dripped into the sand at their feet. It drained into them, absorbed, like Han had never been there at all. He was losing far too much of it.

“Stop,” Leia whispered. She stared at the whip, glaring, wishing—

It did not stop moving, but it missed. Karrd cursed, reoriented himself. Struck again. Missed.

Even if he kept missing—and he did—Han was on the ground, half-conscious. His back was a waterfall of blood. He needed it to heal. Stitches—they were outdated, but surely…

“You must have stitches,” she murmured to Irdina. “Can you save him?”

Irdina shook her head.

That wouldn’t do. Leia pulled away again, but Irdina did not let go. She stared at Han’s back, feeling her fury build inside her, staring at Karrd with enough hatred to put out the suns.

Han jerked back, crying. She gasped, but Karrd was just as confused. He cracked the whip again, but aborted the motion halfway when Han flopped onto his front, exposing his red, raw back for them all to see.

It was… bumpy.

She peered at it in the dim light of the underground hall. The violent red marks were still there, but they were subsumed by flesh—pieces of skin, tissue, cells that had twisted into ropes and bridged the gaps where the skin had split over muscle. She reached out a hand, though he wasn’t near enough to touch. His back was an unnatural tapestry of flesh, blood, and bone. Veins were used in the thread of those stitches as well: she could see them pulsing, where the flesh was thin and spindly, betraying his racing heart. Sweat bled from his pores to slowly cut through the drying blood, beading on his macabre embroidery.

Stitches.

Something dark awoke inside her as she stared at that mess of flesh. It was absurd, but the truth was clear. She had done that.

What else could she do?

Karrd snarled and threw all his strength into one last stroke. It cleaved through her handiwork. Leia watched them break apart, as fragile as chains of mountain daisies, and then, when she willed it so hard that her teeth hurt from clenching, she watched them wriggle in mid-air like bisected worms, reach across the fresh canyon of flesh and blood, and reconnect with their other half.

“What the hell is this?” Karrd demanded.

Han laughed. He couldn’t see his back. He had no idea how kriffed this was. “What’s the matter? Can’t even see straight enough to hit me?”

Karrd lashed out, seizing Han’s hair. “There are other ways to kill you,” he swore, and dragged Han back.

She hadn’t bothered noticing it before. In the corner of the cellar that they were in were stacked barrels, three high and many deep. Karrd dragged Han to the nearest column, tipped one over, and sent them crashing to the sand. Then, with one foot on Han’s back to keep him down, he unscrewed the lid.

Water. Fresh water. A luxury.

Irdina realised what Karrd was about to do before Leia did. “Karrd! Stop! We’ll all get in trouble!”

“Worth it, for this bastard.”

“That’s such a waste—”

“Han, hold your breath!” Leia shrieked.

Han didn’t question her, thank the stars. He sucked in a breath half a second before Karrd seized his hair, dragged him upright, and shoved his head into the water.

Leia’s mouth dropped open. He held Han under there for seconds, long seconds, minutes—she found herself holding her breath alongside him. Her pulse thundered in her head. Her chest swelled and burned from strain.

Karrd yanked him back out.

Han gasped for air; Karrd spat in his face. Leia gasped for air. Irdina kept plaiting Leia’s hair.

While Han was still gasping, Karrd shoved him back under. Leia bucked in Irdina’s grip, feeling the cold, stagnant water flood her mouth like she was there too. Still, she held her breath alongside him.

What was this? She stared at him and shook, his pain as acute to her as if it were her own. Like Luke had described the Force felt like. She couldn’t stitch this up. She couldn’t save him here. Humans could heal wounds, but humans couldn’t breathe underwater—

He dragged Han back up. Han breathed. Leia breathed. And the oxygen seemed to light a fire in her brain pathways, raging all the way to her heart. Han went under again, but not before the white skin of his neck grew very, very red.

Humans couldn’t breathe underwater. Han was human—so painfully, thoroughly human that it made her smile. But he didn’t have to be.

Something—that assurance deep inside her—told Leia that she wasn’t exactly fully human, either.

She reached out in her mind’s eye, seized Han’s fragile neck in her tiny hands, and cut. Blood seeped into the clear water, permanently corrupting that source of life Irdina wanted to leave untouched, but it vanished soon after. She wrung his neck, changing, changing…

Karrd kept him underwater for a long, long time. Leia held her breath for the first half of it. But when Han started breathing, she did too.

Ripples touched the surface of the water. Han was very still. Very calm. She could feel their breaths synchronising: she ordered him to breathe with her, despite the novelty of it.

When Karrd grinned in her and Irdina’s direction, she kept her face blank. But when he turned back, dragged Han out of the water, and gaped at him, she smirked.

Han’s neck had unfolded into gleaming slits. They fluttered awkwardly in the air after he was dragged out, before he got his mouth open and sucked in a breath through there. The slits in his neck—his gills—folded closed again, only thin lines of skin indicating they were still there at all.

“Is that your best shot, pal?” he gasped out. The gills twitched with every exhale. “Didn’t your brother tell you I’m hard to kill?”

“What is wrong with you?” Karrd spat, shaking him.

Han shrugged his lazy shrug and—like the brief connection she’d forged between them meant he could seek her unerringly, blind or incapacitated—he turned towards her. And winked. “I dunno. I’ve got people who love me anyway.”

“So did my brother,” Karrd choked out around a sob that wrenched his shoulders back. He grabbed a knife from his belt and drove it through Han’s torso.

Irdina let go of Leia’s hair. It was in a neat, perfect plait that hung down her back, pinned up with a golden clasp that matched her bikini. Leia stood up, stepped forwards, reached out her hands, and pushed them apart gently.

Han’s flesh was like clay in her hands. It gathered up into two rolls and let her peel it back as the knife drove through, to the broad daylight on the other side. His internal organs jostled for space, but with a flick of her hand she rearranged them until they were comfortable. The knife and the hand that held it drove straight through Han’s belly, meeting no resistance, doing no damage.

When it pulled back, she closed the hole anew.

Irdina was staring at her in terror. Karrd turned to look at her too, her still-outstretched hands. She schooled her expression into one of dead-eyed, unflinching determination.

“Step away from him,” she ordered. “Before I open a hole in your head.”

He stepped away from him.

“Drop the knife.”

He dropped it.

She nodded, baring her teeth. “Good.”

Han was feeling around his stomach, where the hole had been. It was gone—almost. A narrow tunnel remained, right the way from his belly button through to his spine, light peeking through. He found it by touch, then flickered up to touch his gills, their fragile flapping out of water. The artistic bumps on his back, a composition of love and hate.

She had saved him. She had redesigned him in order to do it.

It was too much to bear. She stepped forwards; his gaze followed her motions. Even blind, even if he never got his vision back again, she knew he would always be able to see her. But when she reached for his hands, he grasped them strongly, and pulled her against his chest, holding her tight.

She ran her hands down his back. She felt proud of it—of him. Her masterpiece.

“Glad he didn’t shoot me in the head,” he quipped in her ear. There didn’t seem to be any question in his mind how she had done it. She wondered if she had always been magical to him. “Wouldn’t want you digging around in there. A lot of stuff in my brain you shouldn’t have to see.”

“I wouldn’t have bothered,” she muttered back. “You’re brainless anyway.”

He kissed her, the briefest and most chaste kiss they’d had so far, in response.

She stepped back, still holding his hands, and glared at Karrd. Did not spare a look for Irdina that wasn’t one of pity.

“My Jedi friend is real,” she told her instead, who did not seem to doubt her anymore. “And he has training.”

Irdina swallowed. Karrd backed away.

“You’d better run while you can,” Leia told Irdina. But to Karrd, she said: “Not you. There will be no escape for you.”

The stench of urine emanated from him. She just kept smiling, showing all her teeth.

She glanced at Han. Her Han. Human or not. He was still with her; she could do anything.

Once all of them were here, she would bring about a reckoning.

[whimsicalworldofme]

Saving Grace: Chapter Nineteen

Some father-daughter bonding time leaves Grace feeling a little guilty about keeping secrets.

“Oh good, you’re home.”

Tony only glanced up long enough to register that it was his daughter who had walked through the door to the workshop. They had been settled back in New York for months now and though her dad had begun going to therapy, he still spent excessive amounts of time working on Iron Man tech. Granted, with Pepper running all day-to-day operations at Stark Industries, he really didn’t have much else to do. S.H.I.E.L.D. tried to tap him for Avengers projects now and again, and he did go on some, but others he declined.

“Come here and try these on,” he waved her over to the workbench he was currently stationed at, not taking his eyes off the blue projection of the schematic for whatever it was he was building.

“Hello to you too, Dad,” she laughed as she headed his way, an overnight bag slung over one shoulder since she had just gotten in from an overnight trip to D.C.

A project S.H.I.E.L.D. had her working on required frequent in-person troubleshooting sessions, so whenever necessary she booked a quick flight or a train and headed down there, fixed whatever had gone wrong in about five minutes, then got to spend the rest of her time with Steve, provided he was in town and not running missions. Even if he was out of town, she stayed at his apartment. He made sure that her favorite snacks were always tucked away on a cabinet shelf she could reach and had begun making cold brew coffee that tasted every bit as good as the stuff from the stovetop, so there was always a jug in the fridge. This time he had been home though and she was still in a blissful haze.

“Have you moved since yesterday when I said goodbye?” She realized her father was still in the same clothes from the previous morning and it was now about seven at night the next day.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed and waved for her to come closer. “I’ve made several trips to the bathroom.”

Grace grabbed her usual stool and carried it over, setting it next to him, and plopped to a seat, her bag sliding off her shoulder and onto the floor.

“Have you eaten anything other than chocolate covered almonds, blueberries, and canned coffee?”

“What are you, my mom?” He said with a sarcastic, scoffing laugh as he raised a brow and looked at her. “Put these on.”

He handed her a pair of metal bangle style bracelets, the kind on a hinge that snapped shut. They were simple and unadorned so Grace had a feeling they weren’t just jewelry he’d picked up for her, but some sort of new tech. She placed one on each wrist and realized he had designed them specifically to fit her. They felt heavier than they looked, but not like weights, just more substantial than expected.

“Ok,” Tony turned them on her wrists and adjusted them so they were in the same spot on each arm and made sure they were securely in place. “Perfect fit,” he looked up at her with a grin. “Stay here.”

He hopped up from his seat and hurried across the room, setting a stool about fifteen feet away from her and constructing a pyramid of his empty coffee cans on top of it.

Good lord he’s running off pure caffeine right now, isn’t he? Grace shook her head.

Hurrying back over to Grace, he checked the bracelets one more time before shifting back over to the blue schematic and swiping through a few diagrams and pulling up a keyboard to type in some notes.

“Jarvis, start recording,” he commanded.

“Of course, sir,” the British voice answered.

“All right, this is the first practical test of the Grace project, mark one, recording for future reference and development,” he stated as typed in another note. Turning to his daughter, he rubbed his hands together, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Ok, Gracie, I want you to tap those bracelets together twice, it doesn’t have to be hard just—”

Grace did what he said, the metal clinking together pleasantly before humming to life, a band of blue light illuminating down the middle, the exact same light that emanated from an arc reactor.

“Whoa, hey,” Tony grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her away from him to face the pyramid of cans on the stool across the room. “Watch where you’re pointing those things.”

“These are so cool,” she examined the glowing band in each bracelet, lifting her wrists to eye level. There were wires and tubes running through each one, the components of an arc reactor, shaped into a band that could fit on her wrists.

“I’m glad you think so but they are dangerous, so be careful,” he stated.

“Got it,” Grace nodded.

“I’m going to give you instructions, listen to the end before you start doing anything, ok?”

“Yep,” she grinned, bouncing a little in her seat and Tony lit up, seeing her so delighted by his work.

“So, you’re going to tap them together one more time and then hold your wrists about an inch apart. A ball of energy will start building, like when I fire a blast from my repulsors in my suit.”

“Uh huh,” Grace didn’t know if she liked the sound of that.

“You should only hold it a few seconds, pulling your wrists slowly apart as it builds. But don’t let it get bigger than a basketball,” he cautioned. “At least not in the house. I don’t want to put holes in the wall that we’ll have to explain to Pepper. I don’t know what will happen if it gets bigger than that so let’s not find out, ok?”

“Ok, so grow the energy ball then what?”

“Then you push it out, like a tai chi sort of thrusting motion,” he mimicked what he wanted her to do. “It’ll go out, just like the shots from the gauntlets in my suits. You ready to try it?”

“I think so?” Grace thought it sounded really cool but despite playing around with her dad’s gauntlets, she wasn’t keen on weaponry, didn’t like the idea that she could accidently hurt anyone, let alone intentionally do so.

“Do you think your old man would let you do something dangerous? Uh, well, deadly dangerous?” He noted her hesitation and leaned all his weight to one side, his palm flat against his work bench, the other hand on his hip. “You’ll be fine, you’re my kid, it’ll come naturally. I’ve got a first aid kit around here somewhere,” he glanced around, half-heartedly looking for it. “And just in case, I’ve got Dum-E on standby.”

He nodded over to the arm robot he and her mom and constructed, the only tech that he’d managed to pull out of the wreckage of their home in California. The bot had a fire extinguisher attached to it.  

“Ok, well,” she sucked in a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” she followed his instructions, tapping her wrists together. A ball of white radiant light sprung to life, hovering between the bracelets, at first no bigger than a pea, then growing to the size of a quarter. She waited, watching intently until it got close to the size of a tennis ball before pushing it out with a little exclamation of “ha!” in the direction of the coffee cans. The ball of energy blew a hole through the center, scattering what remained of the metal in twisted, smoldering scraps.

“Yes!” Tony clapped his hands together forcefully as he admired his handiwork. “Perfect shot. Perfect test.” In his enthusiasm he grabbed Grace and kissed the top of her head. “But I shouldn’t expect anything less from my perfect daughter.”

“I’m not perfect, Dad,” she laughed to cover the gnawing guilt she felt over hiding her relationship with Steve. “But I appreciate the sentiment.” She glanced down at her wrists again. “How do I turn these off? Tap twice?”

“Yep,” he nodded. “They worked exactly as they should. I’ve been developing these for weeks, but that’s just one feature, the rest are still in progress. I want you to have something to keep yourself safe since you’re in D.C. all the time.”

“They’re great,” Grace nodded, more guilt eating at her. She turned the bracelets off and focused on taking them off.

“What’s the matter, kid?” Tony asked, taking the bracelets from her once she got them off. “You’re usually a lot more excited about blowing stuff up. And you’re usually happy when you’ve had time with your bestie,” he tried not to put mocking derision on the word, but didn’t succeed. Not entirely.

“I…” she looked at her father, contemplating telling him the truth. She had straight up lied to him about whether or not she’d been sleeping with Steve and he’d believed her. He took her at her word and while she was an adult who could make her own decisions about her romantic life, he was still her dad and she didn’t like keeping secrets from him. “I just worry when you call me perfect that eventually I’m going to let you down,” she offered a half truth. “Like, catastrophically. It’s a lot of pressure.”

“Oh,” he frowned, his eyes falling to his hands as he tinkered with the bracelets. “I know you’re not perfect,” he said off-handedly, glancing up at her with a soft smile. “You’re half me, so I’m aware there are issues that come with that. I see the best of me and the best of your mom in you, you’re better than either of us alone, so to me, you’re as close to perfect as it gets. I never thought any of my genes could make a kid that would turn out so well,” he shrugged. “In fact, I was pretty convinced of the opposite. And of course, I credit the Turners for the amazing job they did raising, you, I would’ve just mucked it all up. You would’ve turned into a raging narcissist left in my care as a baby. But you’re amazing, you’re intelligent, driven, compassionate, and kind. I’m constantly in awe that you’re my kid. And even if you do eventually do something that lets me down catastrophically, I’m still going to love you more than anything in this world.”

Grace got up from her stool and wrapped her arms around her dad’s waist in a hug, resting her head on his chest and shutting her eyes. She felt him wrap his arms around her and squeeze her snugly to him, kissing the top of her head.

“Thanks, Dad,” she sighed contently. “I love you more than anything in the world too.” She meant it.

“Good,” he said. “All right, kid, enough sentimental stuff. I need actual food. What do you say we go out for dinner somewhere?”

“I want Italian,” she agreed. “There is a void in my soul that can only be filled by garlic bread.”

Chapter Eighteen

Masterlist

Chapter Twenty

[bcklink]

Satran Women's Embroidery Work Poly Silk Saree with Unstitched Blouse Piece  

Draping Styles: Saris are traditionally draped in different styles based on regional and cultural preferences in India. Satriani's rinted poly silk sarees for women can be draped in many ways, including her Nivi style, which is the most common and popular drape style. Other regional styles include Bengali style, Gujarati style, and Maharashtrian style. Each style of drape creates its own look and enhances the overall look of the saree. 

Fringe and Palu: A saree usually has a decorative fringe along its entire length and a contrasting or complementary Pallu, which is the loose end of the saree that is worn over the shoulder. Fringes and pals feature intricate patterns, embellishments, or contrasting colors that add visual interest and elegance to the saree. 

ACCESSORIES: When wearing a Satran print Poly silk saree for women, you can accessorize it to enhance the overall look. Traditional accessories such as bangles, earrings, necklaces and anklets are often paired with the saree. Additionally, you can choose a matching or contrasting blouse design, style your hair in a traditional or modern way, and wear matching shoes to complete the ensemble. 

Opportunity and Cultural Significance: Saris have significant cultural and traditional value in India. It is often worn during festive occasions such as Diwali, Durga Puja, weddings, religious ceremonies and cultural events. Considered an elegant and graceful garment, the saree represents the rich traditions and diversity of Indian culture. 

Saree Care and Maintenance: To ensure the longevity of Satran women's printed Poly silk sarees, it is important to follow proper care instructions. It is usually recommended to dry clean these sarees to preserve the color and quality of the fabric. If you prefer to hand wash, use a mild detergent to gently wash the saree. Avoid squeezing or twisting, and let it dry naturally in the shade. Iron on low or fabric-friendly setting. 

Availability: Satran printed Poly silk sarees for women without sewn blouse portion are available through various channels including online retail platforms, traditional saree shops and authorized Satran retailers. Online platforms often offer a wide range of colors, designs and sizes. 

Polysilk, rayon, chiffon, georgette, and other fabrics that are smooth, light, highly absorbent, and beautifully designed are ideal. But the main reason is that they don't stay the same all day long like cotton sarees. 

Cotton is the most preferred fabric, but it is also very difficult to care for. It looks clean and fresh, but wrinkles quickly. You can always prefer to wear soft cotton sarees, guncotton sarees for regular office use. The advantage of wearing soft or mulled cotton is that it does not wrinkle as easily as pure cotton. Pure cotton should always be washed. But with soft cotton and mulberry cotton, it's easy to wear all day, even when traveling, and you don't even have to start. 

Cotton is always preferred for formal wear. The reason is that cotton can work wonders in business meetings, but it doesn't. please visit here https://amzn.to/3Qyli8Q for more details. 

[onlinesikhstore]

Sikh Sarbloh Kara Smooth Design Singh Kaur Khalsa Kada Bangle Kakaar 5Ks New DD3 Sikh Sarbloh CHAKRI Kara Smooth Design Singh Kaur Khalsa Kada Bangle Kakaar 5Ks New. Kara Ref: DD3 Width is approx 8.3mm Thickness from inner side of Chakri to the edge of Chakri is approx. 12.3mm Weight Approx 110-155g (Variable due to size) Handmade design - therefore each kara is a Unique design Please note these Pure Sarbloh Kara are very hard to find and is a customised design exclusive to OnlineKaraStore  These karas are from the Holy City of Amritsar (Golden Temple/Darbar Sahib).  KARA Size is the internal diameter of Karas measured in CMs.  There may be little bit rust present which is seen commonly in all SARBLOH KARAS due to purity of the metal/wrought iron. Cuts, dings and scruff Mark's may present as these kara are hand made and transported in Jumble in Jute bags. However, our kara will be near to perfection as we get these manufactured on demand and use bubble wraps to transport these.  Please read below more Information about Sikh Kara:  A kara (Punjabi: ਕੜਾ (Gurmukhi), کڑا (Shahmukhi) कड़ा (Devanagari)), is a steel or iron (sarb loh) bracelet, worn by all initiated Sikhs. It is one of the five kakars or 5Ks — external articles of faith — that identify a Sikh as dedicated to their religious order. The kara was instituted by the tenth Sikh guru Gobind Singh at the Baisakhi Amrit Sanskar in 1699. Guru Gobind Singh Ji explained:  He does not recognise anyone else except me, not even the bestowal of charities, performance of merciful acts, austerities and restraint on pilgrim-stations; the perfect light of the Lord illuminates his heart, then consider him as the immaculate Khalsa.  The kara is to constantly remind the Sikh disciple to do God's work, a constant reminder of the Sikh's mission on this earth and that he or she must carry out righteous and true deeds and actions, keeping with the advice given by the Guru. The Kara is a symbol of unbreakable attachment and commitment to God. It is in the shape of a circle which has no beginning and no end, like the eternal nature of God. It is also a symbol of the Sikh brotherhood. As the Sikhs' holy text the Guru Granth Sahib says "In the tenth month, you were made into a human being, O my merchant friend, and you were given your allotted time to perform good deeds." Similarly, Bhagat Kabir reminds the Sikh to always keep one's consciousness with God: "With your hands and feet, do all your work, but let your consciousness remain with the Immaculate Lord." The basic kara is a simple unadorned steel bracelet, but other forms exist. It was historically used like a knuckle-dusterfor hand-to-hand combat. Battlefield variations include kara with spikes or sharp edges. Sikh soldiers of the British Indian army would settle disputes by competing in a form of boxing known as loh-musti (lit. iron fist) with a kara on one hand.  PLEASE NOTE: Please measure/check size of your kara/bracelet first while ordering to avoid any hassle or posting it back to us and paying extra for p&p for exchange and swap of karas with other desired sizes.  There will be charge of £5 p&p towards exchange/swap of Kara for any size issues for UK buyers and £12 p&p for international buyers that needs to be paid by PayPal in advance or interested buyer can send us pa repaid self addressed envelope for any exchange/swap along with the original item in its original packaging and buyer should also return us the gift item/bags sent along with the item for appreciation of purchase. We may post back gift items/bags along with the swapped item.  P.S. Colour of item may slightly vary due to camera flash and light conditions. Some Karas may have negligible small black grinding mark on the kara joint. This is always seen on all karas as most of the Kara making/shaping work is done by hands. However, this do not affect the quality/look of Kara. #Kara #KaraforLife #SikhKara #SarblohKara #Sarbloh #5Ks #SinghKara #SikhBracelet #KhalsaKada #Kada #SinghisKing Brilliant finish and very decorative. Ideal gift item for loved ones on any Occasion. Please follow us on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter @OnlineSikhStore #OnlineSikhStore Free Royal Mail Postage in UK.  Postage discounts will be given to International buyers for multi-buys. Any questions please do not hesitate to contact us. P.S. Colour of item may slightly vary due to camera flash and light conditions. Size is approximate it and may differ by few mm from Kara to Kara or because of Digital Vernier Calliper errors. There may be rust present or marks of rust present as rust is natural characteristic of pure iron/sarbloh. These kara do require cleaning with Sharp Sand or Brasso Polish. These are usually treated with coconut oil to maintain shine after cleaning.

[lightdancer1]

An excerpt from the upcoming chapter of A Far Green Country:

Azula mused on the things Hoelun had told her last night and this morning as she walked to talk with Kiyi. This time she not so quietly ensured that Hoelun would be hanging out with Toph Beifong, who greeted her with an enthusiastic shout and the two did that weird punching thing Toph did for bonding. Azula returned it herself more half-heartedly than anything else.

Kiyi idolized her, Hoelun said. In Hoelun's view maybe too much. She couldn't disagree with that, her sister might look like her, they might share the same unfortunate coincidence of bloodline descent, though Ikem at least was one of the few people in the Palace she didn't feel entirely wary around. And she was raised by *Ursa.* The same Ursa who thought she was a monter.

None of this made sense, at no point could Azula even begin to formulate the many, many questions she wanted to ask. So she didn't even try.

Instead she sat, not at the turtleduck pond as her mother might have done (after all, the usual wisdom she'd followed was that if her parents did it it probably wasn't the wisest idea as a general rule). She sat near the training room, in the meditation room Uncle Iroh had used so much.

Kiyi met her there and Azula saw a mirror of herself at sixteen, though the smile was something she had never worn and there was a sense of a deep inner awareness that she had love and was valued by people. There was none of the iron wall around herself that hid insecurities, none of the furtive looking. A part of Azula felt a blend of relief and further bemusement at this recognition. Kiyi was loved by someone, but.....

"So, what did you want to talk about?' Her sister's voice was warm, in a way hers had not been at that age, even in Karakorum, even with her healing.

"Why do you..." she pointed to her own bangs.

"It's a long story," Kiyi said with a wry grin.

"But before I get there, do you know anything at all about just what our mother did when she fled the whole Azulon thing?"

Azula blinked.

"No, and I can't really say after meeting Berke and Borte that I give a shit, either."

Kiyi giggled at that.

"You love them, don't you?"

Azula nodded.

"Good. I'm glad."

"Well, you see, I want to explain that as it'll make a lot of..." she tapped her own bangles "this make sense, hopefully."

And then Kiyi began to tell Azula a tale that had her leaning forward and then staring wide eyed. She paused her at a moment.

"Wait, you mean to tell me after all of that, after the whole thing where she went to talk to Zuko on that last day and gave him that wonderful syrupy speech she went and forgot both of us?" Her voice was a marvel of incomprehension.

Kiyi nodded, as Azula made a low whistle.

"If that was a twist in a story it'd seem remarkably ham-handed and like a convenient excuse for a writer to throw out any established characterization of a person purely to get them out of the way and not justify their absence."

Kiyi's nose twitched. "Yeah...." her laugh was awkward.

[lord-kiwi-the-wizard]

Today I learnt a little about the sikhi religion.

Sikhi's in my country wear bangles on their wrists made from precious metals as apposed to the traditional pure iron spiked crowns that is normally worn on their turbans.

Sikhism has nothing to do with Islam or Hinduism and is from the Punjab part of India, modern day Pakistan.

I am welcome meet a traditional Sikhi holyman complete with iron crown at their temple nearby if I want.

[jasthelazyelf]

Everything is fine

I think we can all agree that the angelic event made everyone uncomfortable. But weirdly it gave me inspiration to try and write something, making a little twist to the whole event. I am a beginner writer, so please keep that in mind. ^^;

GN MC Word count: 2800-ish Angst-y with a good ending WARNINGS: none that I know of outside of somewhat following the angelic event. Let me know if I should state something.

At first it felt like it was supposed to be like any other student council meeting. No one knew what it was about, the notification having been sent only a few minutes sooner. But Solomon has also been called over. That was rather unusual. After a bit of usual bickering among all the brothers, the door into the room opened and Diavolo entered the room alongside the two angel students.

'Huh, I wonder what this is all about, this doesn’t happen often…‘ MC thought to themself.

„I’m happy that you all could join me here,“ greeted Diavolo everyone in his cheery voice as he always did.

Diavolo took his usual seat above everyone else, looked at Simeon and gave him a little nod. The angel explained the situation with audible excitement in his voice. The angels wanted to host a party for the exchange students and the brothers. They felt like everyone deserved a celebration after their hard work.

The reactions… varied, to say the least. Mammon already had his doubts, but Beel was obviously happy to have the opportunity to eat Celestial food again. MC was looking forward to getting to know the angels better.

Belphie groaned. „What a pain… We don’t have to dress formally, do we?“

Asmo, on the other hand, was extremely excited about this. „I’ve got an idea! While we’re at it, why don’t we all dress up like angels?“

„Asmo, I am not really sure that is a good idea,“ complained MC.

„And that’s precisely why I’m rejecting that idea now,“ agreed Lucifer with MC immediately.

„Aw, come on, it doesn’t have to be anything complex! A pair of cute angel wings would do!“ exclaimed Asmo.

„No,“ entered Diavolo the conversation. „If you’re dressing up, you’re going all out.“

Before anyone could further complain, Diavolo quickly cast a spell and all the brothers’ clothes transformed into magnificent Celestial clothes. MC was shocked how fast everything happened and didn’t really know how to react. Diavolo was obviously in awe, he hasn’t seen the brothers in these clothes for such a long time.

„Wow! You all still look as beautiful as ever! Seeing you all like this sure brings back memories… What do you think of their angel forms, MC?“ Simeon turned to MC with an expectant look in his eyes.

„This… this doesn’t seem right…“ they answered, worried.

„That’s because there’s nothing right about this… I never imagined myself living another day in this form…“ added Lucifer. The only one who didn’t really seem to care was obviously Asmodeus.

„Oh, that’s right, I almost forgot. Michael sent you all presents as thanks for taking such good care of us angels,“ remembered Simeon. For some reason, MC started to feel extremely anxious. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, why would they be forced into opening old wounds? Was there a way to stop this mess? They didn’t want to be seen as rude, though, so they kept quiet.

The presents happened to be small nicely ornamented bangles. Even with their simple design they looked quite fancy.

„Whoa, this is pure gold!“

„And they’re so pretty!“

One by one, each brother put on one of the bangles. Once everyone got theirs on, the air around started to feel a little different and the bangles shone brightly. A cracking sound was heard, and the light of the bangles went out again.

„What just happened?“ wondered MC loudly.

„Well, this is a rare occurrence. It seems that whatever spell Michael put on the bangles reacted to my magic, meaning the spells combined into something new!“ exclaimed Diavolo. If nothing else, he seemed rather excited about how things were unfolding.

„… Meaning?“

„It has some sort of effect now, but we still don’t know what it is.“

Since no one knew what they were dealing with, all the brothers collectively decided to get out of these clothes once and for all. They all found they were unable to. MC furrowed their brows. This situation was getting weirder by the minute.

„Oh, I forgot to mention that the bangles have a special spell cast on them,“ said Simeon somewhat guilty. „The bangle makes the wearer behave in a more… righteous manner, if you will… Your hearts will be overflowing with kindness and purity!“

Lucifer got visibly uneasy by the words of his former brother.

„Why would he do such a thing?“ asked he.

„It’s so our party will be full of elegance and grace!“ cheered Simeon, guilt suddenly completely gone out of his voice. This wasn’t very typical of the angel. This wasn’t the angel MC knew.

„We will need some time to find a way to get rid of the spell, until then, you will have to stay like this,“ explained Diavolo quickly and that seemed to be the end of that conversation. So, MC went home to the House of Lamentation with their new angelic demons squad.

They decided to help the brothers however they could. After processing what just happened, they made the plan to check on Lucifer first. He seemed to be… not that much different at first. He let MC know he didn’t have many happy memories from when he was an angel. And how he felt so much better as a demon. MC could understand him, even if maybe a bit distantly.

Lucifer suddenly grabbed MC by their waist and pulled them harshly to the mattress of his bed. In that same moment something seemed to click in him. As fast as he surprised them by his action, he got slowly up and apologised profusely for what he just did.

‚Okay, that is different, he wouldn’t suddenly pull back like that. Maybe the bangle finally had an effect on him?‘ thought MC. Lucifer advised them to leave the room, he wanted to find a way to break that spell as fast as he could.

As they stepped out, they immediately ran into Satan. He invited them to the library and MC decided to follow him there.

As they made themselves comfortable, Satan described his unease with this situation. The one thing that gave the initial spark to his very being was now… gone. All that wrath he felt all the time has vanished. He was left only with peace. An inner peace, that was so foreign to him, he didn’t know at all how to react now. MC tried to calm him down. And he just stood up, apologized himself and left to his room in embarrassment.

At that same moment MC got a text from Levi to meet him in his room. Already feeling sick but wondering how he was doing, they cautiously opened the door to his room. As soon as they did so, they had him around their neck.

He was so energetic. And his room was completely spotless. MC gulped. This wasn’t their Levi. This wasn’t the adorable otaku who was slowly coming out of his shell. This wasn’t the sweet Levi who always invited them to play games together or binge watch a new anime.

„Levi, this isn’t like you at all! What happened to our resident otaku?“ cried MC out as he handed them one of his most precious Ruri-chan figurines.

„What? Did my whole personality resolve solely on being a shut in otaku? There’s no need for that now! I don’t have to endlessly hide anymore. I can finally properly express my feelings towards you, MC! I love you so much, MC, you’re the best thing I stumbled upon in my entire life!“

MC stared at him, shocked. Tears made their way into his eyes. As much as they wanted him to admit his true feelings toward them, this was not the way they wanted it to happen. This was all too sudden, and Levi wasn’t his true self. They clutched the figurine tightly yet carefully to their chest and ran out of his room to their own as fast as they could. They made sure to place it somewhere safe so that she could return the figurine to him once he was back to his old self.

Their D.D.D. pinged again. They were all supposed to meet in the dining room.

Once they got there, they were met with quite few dishes that looked delicious. Simeon, who was there among the brothers with Solomon and Luke, announced that these were dishes to be given at the party and if it was okay to leave it like that or if there were things to be changed. As Solomon saw MC, he discretely made his way towards them.

„Hey Sol,“ they greeted sorrowfully.

„My, my, this doesn’t feel right, does it? This isn’t the true House of Lamentation without all the bickering…“ Solomon sighed. This conversation made MC ironically feel a little better. At least someone had all their senses together.

„They don’t even realize it…“

„They sure don’t and it’s making me uneasy.“ At the same time, Mammon appeared before the two of them with an excited expectant smile. „Oh, that’s right, Mammon, we’re supposed to go shopping for the party now, aren’t we?“ asked Solomon and already started to make his way towards the door, giving MC one last worried look once Mammon got in front of him.

Everyone went to do their own thing and MC visited Beel in the kitchen. He was happy MC was there with him.

„I’ve got something for you,“ he said as he showed them a plate of what he cooked.

„For me? Let’s share it together!“ they were touched by this gesture. And they wanted to share with him like they always did. Maybe the bangle didn’t have an effect on him after all? It would make sense; he has always been so nice to them.

„No, I want you to have all of this. I realized it’s much better to make stuff for others than just eating everything myself. When I’m hungry, I want to think of other people and make them happy with my food!“ He smiled with that big puppy smile of his.

MC dropped their fork. It affected him after all. And it was clearly making him suffer, making him not eat.

They ran out of the kitchen and went for the attic immediately. They hoped they could hide there until this nightmare of a day was finally over. Only they found Belphie there. Surprisingly awake. And surprisingly active. It looked like he was cleaning the attic on his own.

„Oh, hey MC! Look, doesn’t it look so much better now?“ he asked excitedly. MC stopped in their tracks right by the door to the room and couldn’t believe their eyes. „I am not going to waste another eternity sleeping. There’re so many things to see, so many people to meet, I don’t even know how I could just sleep all of the time! But I finally found my motivation. And I will start by properly spending time with my family.“ He smiled brightly.

MC quickly apologized to him and ran away again. It almost looked like they couldn’t hide anywhere. But they knew who was always good when they were feeling stressed. Yes, Asmo was always willing to spend time with them and making them relaxed by a spa day.

As they entered his room, they saw him standing by the table with all his different beauty products on it. As he heard his door opened, he turned around. Seeing MC, his eyes sparkled up as he sat them on the chair by his table.

„There you are, sweetie! I’ve been waiting for you! Here, this is for you!“ he said as he shoved almost everything into their hands.

„Asmo, what are you doing?“ they could barely fight the tears falling down, but somehow they still managed. Asmodeus didn’t seem to notice the state they were in at all.

„I have no need for these products anymore! I realized that it doesn’t really matter how I look like on the outside!“ explained Asmo.

„… Because it’s what’s on the inside that truly counts,“ added MC. This was Asmodeus, though. The demon who always took extremely good care of himself. Even though it was sometimes hard to see through it, MC knew there was so much more to him than just his looks. Under that seemingly confident face was a fragile soul that needed someone to love him for who he truly was.

And MC loved him for everything he came with. This was unnecessary.

„Exactly. Oh dear, look at your hands! They’re so dry! Wait a moment, I have a cream that will work wonders on your skin type.“ He found the cream and they let him massage it into their hands.

MC couldn’t respond anymore. To not upset Asmodeus, they quickly took all his things, thanked him and hurriedly exited the room. Once they took his stuff to their room, they had one more brother to check up on.

They entered Mammon’s room and saw a lot of boxes full of expensive and valuable things on the floor. They looked up and saw Mammon going down the stairs with another box.

„What is this all about?“ MC asked, practically emotionless by now. The light has gone out of their eyes by now, depression setting deep in their heart. Mammon didn’t seem to notice, though.

„I don’t really need all of this stuff. There are people way less fortunate than us and I want to help them. So, I decided to sell my stuff and donate to the people in the human realm to help those less unfortunate ones. I can’t live anymore knowing I do nothing for them.“

This was finally their breaking point. MC turned on their heels and headed towards their room, head low, tears falling freely before they could hide in their last only place of peace. They decided to wait there until it was time for the party. They decided to take a nap for now, hoping it’d make them feel a bit better.

It did not, but they decided to attend the party anyway. They decided to stick with Solomon and Luke who were standing more on the side of this whole event.

„They’re so nice to each other, it’s making me uncomfortable,“ Luke broke the silence first.

„Yes, it is making me physically sick to look at them like this,“ added Solomon. You were glad there were at least two other people who stayed sane.

Diavolo soon joined them and enthusiastically watched the six demon brothers feast, as Lucifer joined Diavolo a few seconds later.

„It is quite a sight, isn’t it?“ said Lucifer, with a rather sad look on his face.

„Oh, Lucifer? You’re not with them? I take it you managed to break the spell?“ asked Diavolo curiously.

The demon, still stuck in his angel costume, sighed. „Yes, but I still can’t take off these clothes on my own.“ He suddenly smiled sadistically. „Let’s bring them to their old selves, but let’s first watch them for a little bit more.“

Their vision suddenly went blank and they jolted awake. They gasped for air, panicking about what just happened. As they realized where they were, they eventually managed to calm down, realizing it was all just a bad dream. But what a dream it was.

It felt both so real and unreal at the same time, as dreams often do. They looked at their D.D.D. to see what time it was and saw that it was time for breakfast already. Even though it was Saturday, they learned very soon during their stay that even on weekends it was a tradition to eat breakfast together.

MC slipped slowly out of their bed and headed towards the bathroom. They were pleased that the breakfast already smelled in the hallway. Once they splashed some cold water on their face to properly wake up, changed their clothes into something comfortable and brushed their hair, they headed downstairs to eat.

As they entered the room, they saw that the usual chaos ruled the whole room. Mammon and Levi were arguing over Mammon owing him yet more money, Satan was giggling with Belphie while provocatively eyeing Lucifer, Asmodeus was trying to take a selfie with his breakfast and yelling at Beel, who just stole the very good-looking sandwich right out of his plate and Lucifer was just trying to enjoy his morning coffee and newspaper, while his usual headache was slowly settling in.

They couldn’t help but smile as they entered the room and took their usual seat by the table. They sighed in relief. Everything was fine.

[clawingbackthepast]

Music Videos

Ace of Base

--- All That She Wants

Alanis Morisette

--- Hand in My Pocket

--- Ironic

--- Thank U

Alannah Myles

--- Black Velvet

All Saints

--- Black Coffee

--- I Know Where It’s At

--- Lady Marmalade

--- Never Ever

--- Pure Shores

--- Under the Bridge

Anastacia

--- I’m Outta Love

Annie Lennox

--- No More ‘I Love You’s

--- Walking on Broken Glass

--- Why

Aqua

--- Barbie Girl

Artful Dodger

--- Movin’ Too Fast

Babylon Zoo

--- Spaceman

Backstreet Boys

--- Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)

Baddiel, Skinner and the Lightning Seeds

--- Three Lions (Football’s Coming Home)

The Bangles

--- Eternal Flame

Barenaked Ladies

--- One Week

The Beautiful South

--- A Little Time

Bloodhound Gang

--- The Bad Touch

Britney Spears

--- Baby One More Time

Bryan Adams 

--- When You’re Gone (Feat. Mel C) 

Bus Stop Feat. Carl Douglas

--- Kung Fu Fighting

B*Witched

--- C’est la Vie

The Cardigans

--- Erase/Rewind

--- Lovefool

--- My Favourite Game

Catatonia

--- Mulder and Scully

--- Road Rage

Charles and Eddie

--- Would I Lie to You

Chris Isaak

--- Wicked Game

Christina Aguilera

--- Genie in a Bottle

Chumbawamba

--- Amnesia

--- Tubthumping

Coldplay

--- Trouble

Coolio

--- Gangsta’s Paradise

Cornershop

--- Brimful of Asha

Cyndi Lauper

--- Hey Now (Girls Just Want to Have Fun)

Deep Blue Something

--- Breakfast at Tiffanys

Des’ree

--- Life

--- You Gotta Be

Dido

--- Here with Me

--- Thank You

Eminem

--- Stan

Enigma

--- Return to Innocence

--- Sadeness

Enya

--- Anywhere Is

--- Only If

Eurythmics

--- There Must Be an Angel (Playing with My Heart)

Everything But the Girl

--- Missing

Fatboy Slim

--- Praise You

Fat Les

--- Vindaloo

Five

--- Everybody Get Up

--- Keep on Movin’

--- We Will Rock You

Fugees

--- Killing Me Softly with His Song

--- Ready or Not

Gabrielle

--- Dreams

--- Out of Reach

--- Rise

--- Sunshine

George Michael

--- As (Feat. Mary J Blige)

--- Fast Love

--- Jesus to a Child

--- Outside

Gina G

--- Ooh Aah Just a Little Bit 

Gorillaz

--- Clint Eastwood

--- Dirty Harry

--- Feel Good Inc.

Hanson

--- MMMBop

Jamiroquai

--- Canned Heat

--- Cosmic Girl

--- Deeper Underground

--- Virtual Insanity

Jennifer Page

--- Crush

Kaoma

--- Lambada

LeeAnn Rimes

--- How Do I Live

Lene Marlin

--- Sitting Down Here

Lenny Kravitz

--- American Woman

--- Fly Away

Lisa Stansfield

--- All Around the World

Lou Bega

--- Mambo No. 5

Macy Gray

--- I Try

--- Still

--- Why Didn’t You Call Me

Michael Jackson

--- Heal the World

--- Thriller

Moloko

--- Sing It Back

--- The Time Is Now

M People

--- Search for the Hero

Muse

--- Bliss

--- New Born

--- Plug In Baby

Natalie Imbruglia

--- Torn

Nelly Furtado

--- I’m Like a Bird

--- Turn Off the Light

No Doubt

--- Don’t Speak

Oasis

--- Don’t Look Back in Anger

--- Little By Little

--- Stand By Me

--- Whatever

--- Wonderwall

The Offspring

--- Pretty Fly for a White Guy

--- Why Don’t You Get a Job

OutKast

--- Ms Jackson

Red Hot Chili Peppers

--- Californication

--- Scar Tissue

Ricky Martin

--- Livin’ La Vida Loca

Right Said Fred

--- Deeply Dippy

Robbie Williams

--- Angels

--- Rock DJ

Run DMC vs Jason Nevins

--- It’s Like That

Santana

--- Smooth

Savage Garden

--- To the Moon and Back

--- Truly Madly Deeply

Scatman John

--- Scatman (Ski Ba Bop Ba Dop Bop)

S Club 7

--- Bring It All Back

--- S Club Party

Seal

--- Crazy

--- Killer (Feat. Adamski)

--- Kiss from a Rose

Shania Twain

--- Man! I Feel Like a Woman

--- That Don’t Impress Me Much

--- You’re Still the One

Shanks and Bigfoot

--- Sweet Like Chocolate

Sheryl Crow

--- All I Wanna Do

Simply Red

--- The Air That I Breathe

--- Say You Love Me

--- Stars

Sisqo

--- Thong Song

Sixpence None the Richer

--- Kiss Me

Spice Girls

--- 2 Become 1

--- Mama

--- Spice Up Your Life

--- Stop

--- Viva Forever

--- Wannabe

--- Who Do You Think You Are

Spiller

--- Groovejet (If This Ain’t Love)

Steps

--- 5, 6, 7, 8

--- Tragedy

Take That

--- Could It Be Magic

T.A.T.U.

--- All the Things She Said

Texas

--- Black Eyed Boy

--- Inner Smile

--- In Our Lifetime

--- Say What You Want

--- Summer Son

Tin Tin Out

--- Here’s Where the Story Ends (Feat. Shelly Nelson)

--- What I Am (Feat. Emma Bunton)

Toni Braxton

--- Un-Break My Heart

Toploader

--- Dancing in the Moonlight

Vanessa Williams

--- Save the Best for Last

Vengaboys

--- Up and Down

--- We Like to Party!

The Verve

--- Bitter Sweet Symphony

--- The Drugs Don’t Work

--- Lucky Man

--- Sonnet

Wet Wet Wet

--- Goodnight Girl

--- Love Is All Around

Wheatus

--- Teenage Dirtbag

Whigfield

--- Saturday Night

Will Smith

--- Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It

--- Men in Black

Yazz

--- The Only Way Is Up

Youssou N’Dour

--- 7 Seconds

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Polysilk, rayon, chiffon, georgette, and other fabrics that are smooth, light, highly absorbent, and beautifully designed are ideal. But the main reason is that they don't stay the same all day long like cotton sarees. 

Cotton is the most preferred fabric, but it is also very difficult to care for. It looks clean and fresh, but wrinkles quickly. You can always prefer to wear soft cotton sarees, guncotton sarees for regular office use. The advantage of wearing soft or mulled cotton is that it does not wrinkle as easily as pure cotton. Pure cotton should always be washed. But with soft cotton and mulberry cotton, it's easy to wear all day, even when traveling, and you don't even have to start. 

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[copperbracelet]

Copper Magnetic Bracelets - 5 Health Benefits Of Wearing Copper Bracelets

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Healthier immune system: Copper, when worn on the wrist or finger, gets absorbed in very small and negligible quantities into the bloodstream. This process creates a physiological balance in the body.

Anti-aging: Copper possesses anti-oxidant properties which prevent free ions and radicals from raising the toxicity within the body. Anti-aging properties of copper are as well-known and historically renowned as the copper ring benefits astrology.

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[essays-for-breakfast]

One False Hope

Melizabeth Week Day 5: Death/Rebirth/Meetings

Warning: This piece includes blood, violence, and character death.

The city was burning. Smoke and ash hung in the air and made it impossible to breathe, much less see in the cauldron of hellfire. Screams rung through the canyons between the high rising marble facades, screams of cornered foot soldiers, of children crying for their parents. The attackers had long overtaken the king’s residence in the city center; all that held them here was the thrill of destruction and murder.

Meliodas fought for each step forward with gritted teeth, and the feeble piece of metal in his left hand trembled along with his heartbeat. He could barely hold onto Elizbeth’s hand as he dragged her along. It had never been this bad.

A stray arrow whistled past his head, and he dove for cover in the dust of a house corner. Elizabeth stumbled and fell, but Meliodas pushed her deeper into the shadows, on the lookout for the marksmen. He spotted the masked soldier of Malachia on the top of a building not too far but paid for the information with another almost-hit. For a human, the marksmen controlled his bow with remarkable precision.

Meliodas slipped into his dead angle and studied the arrow buried to the shaft in the wall across the alleyway. The silver crane feathers of its fletching brimmed with the remains of magical energy. Thank heavens. Had the marksmen solely relied on the force of his arrows, Meliodas would have had far worse odds to struggle against.

Elizabeth quivered next to him, her eyes hazy with the images of her past lives raining down on her; she hadn’t even had the time to process the extent of her curse. A few strands had escaped her carefully woven braid, and the beige of her leather doublet had lost its pure color to the ashes of Ys. Even now she looked beautiful. Meliodas had to make sure she would make it out alive, make up for the past times he had failed her.

With the taste of acerbic smoke on his tongue, Meliodas jumped out into the open, and his shoes crashed on the paving stone loud enough to be heard above the roaring flames nearby. But the noise proved unnecessary as the enemy had only waited for his prey to rear its head in panic. In less than a heartbeat, another projectile shot through the black smoke aimed at Meliodas’ chest. Meliodas squinted against the cinders burning in his eyes and raised his sword. Even the advanced eyesight of his Demon blood couldn’t track down the arrow in the dark, but he could hear it, a high-pitched buzzing that raced closer.

Then the arrow reappeared, and Meliodas flicked his wrist at the last second. The red lines of magical energy enwrapping the projectile were flung backwards, reflected by Meliodas’ «Full Counter». On its own, the magic the marksmen had used didn’t offer enough force to kill a man, but doubled in strength, the red bolt did the trick; the marksmen tumbled from the rooftop into the obscurity of the street below.

Meliodas coughed, and blood splashed into a growing puddle at his feet. Swaying from dizziness, he looked down and broke into a humorless grin. How stupid of him to forget the arrow itself. The iron head had buried itself into his chest, and blood poured out of the wound to add to the red stains in his tunic. Another heart gone. Meliodas had stopped counting how many of them had ceased beating, but he had taken at least two fatal strokes when he had fought back the invaders threatening to burn Elizabeth’s house, and a few more might have given in under the constant flood of lethal smoke he pulled into his lungs.

“Meliodas!” Elizabeth had escaped her shell shock and rushed to his side just as the pathetic sword he had taken from a dead soldier escaped his numb fingers.

“No worries, I can still stand,” Meliodas coughed up despite the tremor in his left arm.

“Stop lying, you’re not well. This is all my fault. Ys is being destroyed because of me.” Elizabeth’s broken words of self-blame faded as she held her hands over the arrow wound, deep in concentration and desperate for a spark of Goddess magic to heal him. But there was nothing she could reach out to; her powers had yet to awaken, and her memories of when she had wielded this magic couldn’t spring the flow to life at will.

“Don’t bother, it’ll only slow us down,” Meliodas said between haggard breaths and took a shaky step. His legs could still carry him. At least that.

Hand in hand, Meliodas and Elizabeth stumbled through what had once been the great alley of the city of Ys, the golden kingdom in the far south of Britannia. Like a fever dream, the images of the street’s prosperous days hurried before Meliodas’ inner eye. Here he had laid eyes on this incarnation of Elizabeth for the first time, clad in the white attire of a priestess, a sight of shock and awe between the market stalls teeming with customers from all corners of the land. Here he had bought her the slim golden bangle she had worn ever since. And yesterday, the basket filled with apples and oranges had slipped out of Elizabeth’s hands when Meliodas had declared his love in front of the tailor shop right over there.

Yesterday, all had been well. Today, hell had come to burn Meliodas’ hopes with one swift attack.

Dazed by blood loss and only on his feet because Elizabeth’s hand kept him sane, Meliodas told himself that Ys would have fallen anyway, would have burned to the foundation stones even if he hadn’t uttered the words ‘I will love you forever’ to the woman by his side and triggered her memories. The kingdom of Malachia had long planned this strike, had long eyed the wealth of Ys with envy. He told himself Ys would have joined the ranks of fallen cities regardless of his actions. Another Belialuin.

But Elizabeth remembered now, the curse had awoken, and if Meliodas didn’t give his all, her hours would tick down with brutal certainty.

The massive archway of Ys emerged from the smoke screens in front of them, its gold ornamentations dull in the absence of sunlight. Beyond the marble structure, the plains of winter wheat awaited them where they would be safe from the massacre. Elizabeth would leave behind all the people who mattered to her in this life, but she would live. Only a handful of steps separated them from safety.

Two invaders emerged from the shadows of a doorway, loaded with silver trinkets and sacks of coins from the household they had robbed; the owners had either refused to put up a fight or had long been silenced. And by the time Meliodas became aware of the hooded figures in his periphery, they had dropped their loot, their bloodlust stronger than their greed.

“Run!” Meliodas yelled and shoved Elizabeth forward before he spun to face his adversaries. Blood dripped from the ridges of their daggers, and one of them made the mistake to go after Elizabeth instead of the bigger threat.

Even without a weapon at hand and with a hazy vision, Meliodas could rip any human apart, and one punch square to the chest sent the soldier of Malachia into the wall across the street. The other one rushed at him, but his loud feet betrayed his move, and Meliodas caught his wrist before the dagger could do more than graze him. The man screamed as Meliodas crushed his bones and dropped limp to the ground. He wouldn’t raise a weapon against anyone any time soon.

In the incarnation of stupid defiance, Elizabeth waited for him in the middle of the road with no cover in sight; she had always refused to listen when he told her to run. But she was still standing, fate hadn’t ceased the opportunity to strike her down while he had been distracted, and nothing else mattered.

He staggered towards her, and his view swayed like a ship in a raging sea intent to pull him underwater. Smoke ate its way into his lungs as he gasped for air. But Meliodas pushed forward, despite the blood running down his side. He could still breathe, he still had a heartbeat left, so he could still protect Elizabeth.

They dragged themselves into the shadows under the grand archway that had marked the borders of the city for countless generations. Today it marked to gateway to safety, to a life beyond this hell. Meliodas clung to the stone wall, barely aware of the detailed reliefs under his hand, and pushed himself forward and into the open. The wide road of well-trodden dirt stretched into the far distance, skirted by the high corn that would cover their escape. On the horizon, a thin blue line hugged the ridges of a mountain range, a sliver of sky against the black clouds of death hanging over Ys. All would be well. Meliodas would make sure Elizabeth would live.

She reached the edge of the field faster than he did, and her fingers had almost brushed the surface of the outer leaves when she turned on her heels to shoot him a concerned look. The blue ribbon with which she kept her hair in check had loosened and her silver locks waved around her slim shoulders in the breeze. For a second, the triskelion of the Goddess Clan flashed in her blue eyes as she made sure he was right behind her, as well as could be given the situation.

Then the buzz of a bowstring cut through the silence, and this time Meliodas spotted the arrow emerging from the dark and racing towards them. To Elizabeth. He had no weapon to deflect the projectile, no strength to catch it midair, all he had was his own life to give. He didn’t hesitate.

Meliodas’ gaze clouded with blackness when he stared at the hole in his chest. That was a first. For once he would leave this world before he saw her death, felt her fingers grow cold, watched the light disappear from her eyes. He gurgled when he tried to pull in a lungful of air, his throat filled with blood.

The same sound recurred behind him. Meliodas turned. Elizabeth had fallen to her knees and clutched her abdomen where the arrow Meliodas had meant to shield her from was buried in her flesh. Horror washed over him, and his muscles froze to ice.

No, no, no, not her, not again, not this time. They had been so close, the walls lay behind them, and yet Elizabeth bleed to death all the same, regardless of his efforts. He couldn’t hold himself upright and dropped to the dust beside her, his fingers stretched halfway towards her.

He could barely see the lovely features of her face as she placed a cold hand on his cheek to wipe away the tears that kept streaming. I failed you, he wanted to say but only managed a blood-filled gargle. If only he hadn’t admitted his love, if only he had taken her for a trip outside the city today, if only he had been stronger, better…

“I’ll see you in the next life… Meliodas,” Elizabeth whispered. Her hand still on his cheek, she sounded her last breath, and her soul fled her body to enter the cycle of reincarnation anew, to be reborn in some other place in this world for him to fall in love with her all over again.

The city of Ys burned down behind him.

Meliodas’ last heart sounded its final weak beats before it succumbed to the smoke poisoning his body.

 When he opened his eyes, Meliodas was greeted by blinding rays of sunlight and the smell of summer grass. All he could do was stare into the endless blue of the sky as the memories dripped into his mind, memories of fire and failure. Elizabeth, love of his life, priestess of Ys, admirer of fruit buffets and harp-playing was dead.

The giggles of a child tore him from his trance, and the young girl he was faced with when he sat himself up clapped her tiny hands in excitement.  “You’re awake!” she said with a grin and stroked his hair as if he were a pet her parents had presented her with for her birthday. “Happy day!”

Meliodas’ mind slowly assembled itself back together, and the more he remembered the more bitter he became. Elizabeth was dead because he had failed to protect her; not even his own life as sacrifice had broken her curse, and his own curse of Eternal Life had brought him back to the land of the living all the same. The field of wheat where he had died had become nothing but a faint dream, and wild grass and clover covered the plain in its stead. Only a few yards to the west, ruins dotted the scenery, covered in ivy and scorch marks from the fire that had eaten the city whole. Marble pillars, the remains of an archway, reached for the heavens like people in desperate prayer; the last citizens of Ys.

“Come home. Mommy makes stew,” the girl said and took Meliodas’ hands to drag him to her village across the hillside. With a heavy heart and one last look at the ruins glistering in the sun, he followed the girl barely old enough to walk.

Her eyes were blue, her short locks silver.