#resin and other gears are… somewhere

[melmac78]

For the first time in a month and a half I’ve actually made art.

The left is found pieces with a vintage key.

The right is a rainbow druzy with oroborus style addition. Not sure if it needs anything else or is fine on its own.

I have two more druzy drops, one truer to the term like a broken geode, but not sure yet what I’m going to do minus knowing they won’t be put in resin.

[davycoquette]

the interview 2/3

PART ONE

Gingerly stepping over Robert Barclay's stiffening corpse, I cross the kitchen to pick up the phone hanging on the wall. The dial tone buzzes, filling my ear like the droning of flies. Bile gurgles into my throat, and I hang up so I can swallow it back down.

I sink to my haunches, dropping my notebook and recorder. My fingers claw through my hair and I curl into myself. My mantra goes, "Oh, God. Jesus. Fuck."

A deep groan answers from behind me.

My heart launches into my mouth and I pirouette out of my crouch. I only manage to twist and land on my ass, then crab-walk a few paces from Robert Barclay’s corpse. This is the first good look I’ve gotten at his face. He looks like one of those wax figures in a museum, but on a day when the AC’s busted. His eyes stand wide open and his mouth is agape, resin teeth slanted like they're ready to drop out. One hand is stretched out toward me and the other is curled into his chest.

"Rob? Rob, are you…" Still in there?

It's gas escaping. Some crime scene investigator I talked to a couple years back mentioned this happened when we were gearing up for the interview. It always stuck with me, popping into my conscience intermittently. Death is embarrassing. It's always embarrassed me. I don't know why.

His body gives a little squeak and I gag.

I guess someday this is gonna be me. Maybe someday soon. This is why my momma calls all the time. She thinks I'm gonna overdose, and some jackass is gonna walk in on me stiff on a floor somewhere.

R. Barclay's sounds have attracted his little terrier, and it's sniffing around his face. I summon it away with a click of my tongue and put my hand out. It scurries over with its nubby tail going fast and licks at my fingers, and I scrub its saliva over the crown of its head before picking myself up off the floor.

Robert Barclay is one of those writers who’ll remain a household name. They already make you read one of his books when you're in high school. He's a 'great American' author, and I'll be the forgotten asshole who missed the chance to do his last interview.

If I just got here yesterday, I think. Or did he kick it yesterday?

I look at his little dog, and it sort of looks back at me with its beady eyes that skew in opposite directions.

"Where's your food at, baby?" I ask, and it turns in a tight circle. "Ready to eat? You want breakfast?"

More circles.

I start going through cabinets, but I'm met with leaning towers of pots and pans and plastic containers in each one. He can't have used any of this shit in years. Poor old guy's probably been living on crackers and buffet cafeterias. He never had kids. Never married.

Up until now, he'd been driving himself — I saw his Buick out front where I parked my Amigo. It was like any other geezer's car: beat up around the bumper. Grey, enormous.

The little dog tires of my searching and tap-dances over to a plastic bin near the sliding door where Robert Barclay has his breakfast nook. There's hard bread crumbs on the glass-top table, a few little ants scurrying up and down the wall.

I scoop some kibble out of the bin and deposit it in the dog's food bowl. It lets me check the tag on its collar while it's scarfing the little cardboard flavored nuggets down. Raisin. The name is familiar, I realize; the little author biography blurb I read when I took the job mentioned something about R. Barclay living alone with his dog, Raisin.

While Raisin crunches kibbles, I stand and lean against the counter.

"I was gonna ask if you were working on anything," I tell Rob's body. "And if you ever thought your books were gonna be required reading for schoolkids."

Raisin dislodges a kibble with a wet sounding cough.

"I was gonna ask who you like reading these days."

I scrub my hand over my forehead, rake my fingers through my hair. My hand drops and I stare down at him. "Who do you like reading these days, Rob?"

A clock above the sink ticks as I stand over him. I haven't done much else since breaking in apart from feeding his dog. When he didn't come to the door, I'd stepped down off the concrete slab of his porch to shield my eyes and peer through his living room window, and I could see his silhouette on the kitchen floor from the front of the house. His place is situated out in the countryside, not a neighbor in sight. He doesn't lock his windows, so I let myself in so I could use his phone to call the ambulance.

But there's no hurry. It's not like I want to spend more time than I have to with this unexpectedly stiff and cold version of Robert Barclay, but there's a little part of me that's irrationally concerned I'll be blamed for his death. I have to talk myself down from that ledge: you had an appointment. He's been dead for hours, at least. What motive could you have possibly had? I guess I'm already anxious about what Jason's gonna say; it makes everything feel like one grand conspiracy to ruin me.

I've got some pills in my Isuzu Amigo parked outside. Standing there with my hip leaned against R. Barclay's kitchen counter, I think I better go pop one or four. I'll seem more collected, less suspicious, when the cops get here.

…Will they send cops?

PART THREE

[joshuadunshua]

There’s an online seller who makes customized crochet hooks and like, the sculpts are dope, they look fresh as hell, definitely cool art pieces to have and use if you’re into them! But they’re virtually all listed as “ergonomic” (it’s the FIRST WORD in the item name, it’s not even like tucked in somewhere for SEO or anything, they’re MARKETED as ergonomic) and reader, they are not ergonomically designed. They flood the page when you search “ergonomic crochet” and even worse, they also show up if you look for “disabled crochet” or similar.

Almost all of them look very painful for me to use for more than a few minutes-- they have all kinds of rough or raised textures, hard corners and edges, awkward shapes to hold, etc. A light saber crochet hook looks very cool! So does a crochet hook with a bird skull as the handle! They are decidedly not ergonomic though, especially since they are hard resin!

I doubt the seller will ever see this, and I mean no ill will by writing it. Again, their hooks look super rad! But speaking as a disabled person who has, among other things, moderate joint pain in my knuckles which impacts how long and how often I can use a crochet hook, I really wish they would stop marketing their hooks as “ergonomic.” They have a heftier and girthier handle than your typical basic metal hook, sure, which will make them perhaps a bit more comfortable for some (most likely people who don’t currently have any hand pain outside of maybe crocheting with a metal hook), but they are not ergonomically designed. That word means something. There is no way in hell a stack of skulls for a handle is more comfortable for me than a clover amour handle. I’m trying to look for ergonomically designed crochet gear to ease the strain I put on my knuckles when I crochet. Not cool art pieces with a bit of heft (maybe even too much heft for me!) that are more likely to give me new problems than ease my current ones.

[sunmarketing]

Best of Vermont

Welcome to Dr. Mary Travelbest:

In this episode: FAQ is how to deal with trouble in the streets when you are on the road:   Destination is Vermont, and who doesn’t like fall colors? The mistake and lessons learned is about poison ivy and the travel tip is about blood clots while traveling, especially on long plane trips.

  FAQ If I run into “trouble” like a strike, police in the streets, angry shouting mobs, what should I do?

My advice is to steer clear of this type of trouble. You are not geared for this as a traveler, so stay out of it. There is going to be unrest somewhere you go, sometime, but if you expect any trouble, get as far away as you can, quickly. 

As an outsider, you’re not prepared to deal with the cause or the results. Stay away and be safe. This summer, while traveling in Minnesota, I purposefully went away from the areas where there was civil unrest in the area around Minneapolis. I would recommend the same for you. You want to stay aware of this by listening to local radio and reading about the news in the area. Overall, be prepared for unexpected delays and have a plan so you can be safe.

  Today’s Destination- Vermont

  https://www.vermontvacation.com/

Air travel is more expensive and less convenient, with smaller airports and fewer direct flights. No McDonalds or Burger Kings here. The Green Mountain National Forest in the southern part of the state has some wonderful hiking.

It’s a state that is between New York and New Hampshire, and to the North is Canada. To the south is Massachusetts. During Corona Virus, there may be some restrictions on your travel in the region, so our show notes will have websites where you can check the latest on this. 

https://accd.vermont.gov/covid-19/restart/cross-state-travel

They do have the University of Vermont, in Burlington is rated one of the best college towns in the country. No public transportation, you need a car.

Life is mellow. In winter, shorter days and home cooking indoors. In summer longer nights and fireflies. Hobbies. People are older.

Work remotely from NYC.

251 cities and towns in 11 different regions. Skiing in winter, fall colors, bike in summer, hike in spring. 

https://www.foliage-vermont.com/

Killington, Manchester, Stratton Mountain Resort, Lake Champlain Valley, Stowe, Bed and Breakfasts, Vermont Inns, short distance to Boston, Montreal, etc. The fall colors is a great time of year to visit.

  Today’s Mistake- Poison Ivy

Poison Ivy is a mistake and I’ve finally learned my lesson. I got it bad. I was hiking in a National Forest in the middle of a sunny day in the summer. Little did I know that I had the oils on my hands and was spreading that all over my body. 

  Poison ivy rash is a type of allergic contact dermatitis caused by an oily resin called urushiol. It's found in the leaves, stems and roots of poison ivy, poison oak and poison sumac. This resin is very sticky, so it easily attaches to your skin, clothing, tools, equipment and pet's fur.

  48 hours later, my neck was full of red clusters, and I thought it was a heat rash. By the next morning, I had some terrible rashes all over my chest and back. So that was a big mistake. Further, I think that I had an allergic reaction that was not something good for me.

The next time I went hiking, I wore long sleeves, long pants, tucked in my pants and made certain not to touch anything that looked like poison ivy or other plant on the BAD list. 

Today’s Travel Advice-Avoid Blood Clots

  If you have or think you may have blood clots, you should see your doctor for advice. Here are some other things that are good, even if you don’t have blood clots. Get up and walk around often when you travel. On a plane, you can be sure to stretch your muscles, get up and walk around every few hours, and hydrate. Some people say you can wear special socks. 

https://www.hematology.org/education/patients/blood-clots/travel

https://columbiasurgery.org/news/2019/02/27/how-avoid-blood-clots-when-flying-advice-vascular-surgeon

Website

Drmarytravelbest.com

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  Check out this Dr Travelbest episode!

[waterfiltergurus]

Why is My Water Softener Making Noise? (12 Possible Causes)

Water softeners are technical systems, so you might be concerned if you hear your softener making a noise that you've never heard before. Luckily, it's not always a cause for concern - but it's still handy to know why your water softener may be making noise, and in what situations a noise from your softener is normal. We've answered the question, "Why is my water softener making noise?" in this guide. 📌 Key Takeaways: - Normal regeneration, failing motors, warning alarms, and worn valves are just some of the reasons why your water softener might be making noise. - The sound of rushing water during a regeneration cycle is normal, but constant rushing water, clicks, bangs, alarms, or other noises suggest there's a problem. - You may need to replace a worn or faulty part in the softener. 🔊 12 Possible Reasons Why a Water Softener is Making Noise Below, we've highlighted the 12 most common noises in a water softener, and their likely causes. Flowing Water (Not Constant): Regeneration Process The occasional sound of rushing water in your softener is a sign of regeneration. The water softener regeneration sound is flowing water. This is the backwash cycle noise, as water flows through the resin tank and down the drain pipe. You'll also hear the humming of the water softener motor and the clicking of the moving gears inside the water softener valve. The average water softener regeneration cycle frequency is once every 1-2 weeks. Most water softeners perform a regeneration cycle overnight, so you won't usually hear the process. Flowing Water (Constant): Water Softener Stuck In Regeneration The sound of constant flowing water in your water softener is most likely down to the system being stuck in regeneration mode. There are a few reasons why the regeneration process may be continuous, including control head failure, a faulty or broken circuit switch, a clogged brine tank assembly, clogged water lines, or low water pressure. Trickling Water: Valves Not Sealing Properly Not all unusual water softener noises are super loud or obvious. If you can hear a quiet trickling noise from your water softener, it might be a sign that a valve isn't sealing properly, causing excess water to trickle down the drain pipe. As with any mechanical part, it's normal for valves to become worn over time, decreasing their ability to form a seal and causing small amounts of water to leave the system when it shouldn't. You might not discover this issue for several weeks or months because it's quiet enough to go unnoticed. Hissing Noise: Crack In Drain Or Brine Line If your water softener is making a hissing noise, the most common cause is a crack in the tubing - usually the brine line, but sometimes also the drain line. The role of the brine line, which connects the softener to the brine tank, is to send the brine solution into the resin tank during regeneration. After years of operation, this tube will eventually become cracked, worn, and brittle, especially if it's exposed to sunlight or temperature changes. 👨‍🔧 A cracked brine line will allow air into the line. So, when the water softener tries to draw brine into the resin tank, the sound of air being drawn into the pipe will cause a hissing noise. You might also hear the same hissing noise when brine is sent back into the brine tank. This hissing noise won't necessarily be accompanied by a leak to begin with. The crack may be too small to leak brine solution, but big enough for air to escape. A water softener's drain line is designed to withstand damage, but it's not impossible for a crack to form somewhere along the line, especially if a kink or a clog in the line causes back pressure. This is another cause of a hissing noise in your water softener. You'll probably see water spraying out of the line, along with hearing a hissing noise, if the drain pipe is cracked. Clicking Noise: Worn Gear Or Broken Gear Tooth If your water softener is making an unusual clicking noise, you may be dealing with a worn gear or broken gear tooth. Water softeners are mechanical units that rely on motors, gears, valves, and other moving components to keep the system in operation. Motors have multiple points of contact and are most susceptible to damage and wear and tear over time, leading to wear and tear. The teeth gears may also break due to unusually strong resistance against another part, such as a stuck piston. If the gear teeth break or become worn, they may struggle to make secure contact with other working parts, causing them to slip. The noise produced by this action usually sounds like clicking. The best way to resolve this issue is simply to replace the worn gears. If the gear isn't written off, you can try removing and cleaning the piston, then lubricating the gear and piston. This might be enough to extend its lifespan for another few months or years. Squeaking Noise: A Sticking Valve A squeaking or squealing noise in a soft water system may be caused by a sticking valve that's only allowing a small amount of water to flow through. The noise might sound similar to the squealing or hissing noise you hear if you put your finger over a garden hose while it's running. The noise is the sound echoing from the water chamber, which is deep within the softener's valve. For short-term relief, you should be able to resolve this noisy water softener issue by cleaning the seals on the valve and applying lubricant. The best long-term solution is to replace the sticking valve. Banging Noise: A Sticking Valve A valve inside a water softener that sticks completely before opening suddenly may cause banging and/or squealing. A valve that sticks will prevent water from passing through the softener. Eventually, when the valve comes unstuck and opens, it'll send water rushing into the other side of the valve, changing the pressure and causing the moving components to suddenly shift with a "bang". You won't hear this noise all the time - only when the stuck valve becomes unstuck. Again, you can resolve a sticking valve issue by lubricating or replacing the valve. Whining Or Clunking Noise: Not Enough Water Pressure Most soft water systems need a minimum water pressure of 15 PSI to send enough water through the system during the regeneration process. If your water pressure is lower than this, or a clogged pre-filter has significantly reduced water's flow rate, you may hear clunking or banging due to your softener's parts banging against each other. A whining noise may also be caused by your water softener drawing air into the tanks, making a noise like wind, but higher-pitched. Prevent water pressure losses by replacing the water filtration cartridge on time and ensuring that your pressure tank can deliver enough water to your softener (for homes with private wells). If your water pressure is too low, you may need to install a pressure booster pump at your home's point of entry. Ticking Or Clicking Noise: Water Softener Timer Electric water softeners that are timer-based regenerate according to a pre-set timer. When you installed the softener, you will have programmed a time into the timer (or simply allowed the softener to regenerate according to the factory-set time). A water softener needs to know what time it is in order to regenerate, and for that reason, the softener should have a timer motor. You'll hear the motor slowly turning if you get close to the water softener. Listen for a ticking or clicking noise, which indicates that the gears inside the timer are turning. A quiet ticking or clicking noise near the softener timer is very normal and doesn't usually suggest that there's a problem. Water Softener Alarm: Low Salt Or Another Issue A noisy water softener caused by an alarm is especially concerning since it usually indicates an issue that requires your immediate attention. Many water softeners have an alarm that will sound if you need to top up the salt tank. Other softeners may sound an alarm if a leak or another problem is detected in the water softener tank. Some softeners even issue alarms to remind you of annual service tasks. 📌 An alarm might sound like a beeping, wailing, buzzing, or blaring noise, and it should be loud enough to hear from another room. Don't get your water softener's alarm confused with another alarm, like a smoke alarm that needs new batteries, or other appliances in the vicinity. Banging And Spraying: Hardness Mineral Buildup In Control Valve A common problem in water softeners is for hard mineral deposits to build up in gaps inside the softener control valve. Even the smallest amount of scale can provide the ideal conditions for more scale to accumulate over the following weeks and months. Eventually, the limescale will become thick enough to reduce the flow of water through the system, so the pressure inside the water softener is significantly lower than the incoming pressure. An imbalance in these water pressures causes the plumbing to move, which may cause water softener noises like bumping and banging. The restricted water flow through the water softener's inlet might also cause the valve to malfunction, allowing water to escape through the seals with a spraying or hissing noise. Squeaking Or Moaning Noise: Cracked Fittings The fittings on a water softener hold the various components together. Over time, it's normal for these fittings to become cracked or worn. A cracked fitting will cause the components in a water softener valve to move against one another, emitting a moaning or squeaking noise. This noise will typically only be noticeable when you're near the water softener. It won't be loud enough to hear from another room. 🪛 How To Fix A Noisy Water Softener To fix a noisy water softener, follow these steps: - Check for immediate issues. If the unusual noise is accompanied by a leak or flooding, switch off the softener and engage the bypass valve as soon as possible. - Determine the cause of the noise. For instance, a hissing noise is likely caused by escaping air, and a rushing water noise suggests the softener is stuck in regeneration. - Contact the manufacturer. If you're not sure whether or not a noise is normal, send a video recording of the noise to the manufacturer and ask if they can help troubleshoot the problem. - Hire a professional plumber. You could also hire a plumber to look at your water treatment system and determine the cause of the noise. - Replace or repair the part. If you discover that the noise is caused by a worn, broken, or malfunctioning part, replace or repair the part as soon as possible. ❔ Why Is My Water Softener Making Noise? FAQ How should a water softener sound when it's regenerating? When a water softener is regenerating, you should hear the sound of rushing water as the resin bed is replenished in the brine draw cycle and brine is flushed from the tank during the rinse cycle. You'll also hear a whirring or clicking noise, which is the motor. Different stages of the regeneration process have slightly different sounds. How do I know whether or not my water softener noises are normal? You'll know whether your water softener's noises are normal if you only hear them during regeneration cycles, and they're the "typical" noises you'd expect to hear during regeneration (the whirring of a motor, rushing water, etc.). If you hear noises around regeneration cycles, or the noises are unusual (a squeaking, banging, or hissing noise, for example), there's a good chance that the noises are a sign that something is wrong. Why does my water softener sound like water is running? Your water softener will sound like water is running if the system is regenerating. A running water noise may also indicate normal soft water production, or the constant sound of gushing water may indicate that the water softener is stuck in a regeneration cycle due to a system malfunction. Read the full article

[copperbadge]

Prowly has finally found the perfect costume...he’s dressed as the Goddess of Industry! 

It’s been difficult to set up little Prowly tableaux these past few weeks -- hard to get out of the house, and also my energy’s been low, because of the broken ankle. But I did get out to run an errand or two today, and it was foggy and misty so I wanted to take Prowly out and photograph him somewhere eldritch and spooky. Alas, the mist had pretty much burned off and it’s tough to come off cool when you’re toting around a small resin owl, so we stopped off at the Goddesses and did a shoot there. 

Thanks to everyone who comes along on Prowly’s journey every October! Hopefully next October will bring more dramatic images and fewer broken bones.

[ID: A photograph of a statue of the Goddess of Industry, located on the plaza east of the Board of Trade in Chicago; she is a larger-than-life woman in a Greek chiton and decorative drapery, grasping the prow of a ship in one hand, a tool held to her chest in the other. Behind her is an anvil with a large gear leaning up against it. Next to her foot is Prowly, barely visible, sitting on the edge of her pedestal.]

[a-shrieking-cloud-of-bats]

talking disjointedly about committing the sin of genshin impact for a paragraph or four (it’s four)

I started playing genshin impact and I wanted to talk about it a bit; in short Game Good I Think though the standard warnings for gacha games apply, and also if you play this game like you’re trying to pass your finals it’s going to send you to hell

first observation; people talk about genshin impact like it’s the horniest game in the world but honestly I didn’t find it particularly horny compared to other gacha games? Which is to say there’s like one character that is attracted to the MC for nebulous reasons and a chunk of the female designs in the game are missing parts of their clothes seemingly at random. I didn’t really find it exceptionally horny but maybe I’m dulled to it and at any rate it’s really not that big a deal even if it is, I think the genre at this point is pretty firmly in Horny Territory so who cares honestly.

and to get the monetization out of the way; You have something called Resin which is used to perform a variety of high yield activities; these aren’t the only high yield activities you can do (which is good! most gacha games require stamina; or Resin in GI lingo; for everything), but they are the only renewable daily activities you can do. Once you’re out of quests you’re leaning on resin pretty hard. Which brings us to Non Resin Activities; which mostly consist of you roaming around the world mining ores and finding chests which give you stuff to level up your gear, something you’ve got to do to ascend characters and weapons (which require mats from the resin activities from before). These activities are generally not a huge deal, and are more of something to fill time with, if you want to. There’s also spiral hell which is apparently big rewards, but I haven’t done so I can’t speak on it at all. Getting to it this weekend.

There’s sorta this distaste for non resin activities in the community, and this brings me to a point that I think is key to enjoying F2P (or F2P adjacent) genshin impact; which is you have to enjoy the overworld wandering; if not you’re probably going to get more frustrated with the game then it’s worth. I’ve heard that as adventure rank goes up the overworld gets harder and the game gets more miserable as a result, and I’ve only hit a single world rank so maybe I’ll be eating my words later but right now it seems pretty reasonable honestly!

and as for the gacha; no character seems to be so bad they’re not worth using at all (quite a feat), and even 4*’s are more then capable of performing well if you invest in them enough. Additionally the fact that there’s non resin activities at all means you don’t have to worry about how using your favorite character will drag down your Resin Efficiency or whatever so that’s nice. Weapons are a bigger deal, but you get a range of weapons just playing the game F2P and some are quite good. I’ve heard Xiangling is a particularly good F2P unit for instance, with you getting a free copy from spiral hell, and getting her almost BiS weapon free from somewhere as well. She (who is a 4*, by the way) is an extremely high damage hyper carry if you play her right apparently; I’ve not gotten around to spiral hell so I can’t verify. Overall I’d say the gacha is reasonable though I can already tell you I’m sort’ve dreading the weapon gacha if it’s as influential as people make it out to be. You really can’t roll a lot on F2P and I can definitely see a situation where I just don’t have the gear to do stuff comfortably if it gets as bad as people say.

I guess ultimately I’m enjoying myself (and have had to pace myself in fact; I’m trying to play fewer Free Infinity Content Games like genshin lately) but there’s some minor anxieties moving forward. We’ll see if they end up being validated I guess!

[kmalexander]

The 2020 Cosmic Horror Holiday Gift Guide

The phrase “Black Friday” has a more menacing tone in 2020—especially here in the United States. Hopefully, you’re following the advice of the experts, staying home, laying low, wearing masks, and washing your hands. But a pandemic shouldn’t stop gift giving! So, once again, I took some time and assembled my List of Lists for 2020. In it, you’ll find a plethora of paraphernalia for the weird-fiction fanatic, cosmic-horror connoisseur, or mythos maniac in your life. As with previous years, I’ve worked to assemble a list of exceptional items for all ages and budgets.

There’s a few changes this year. First, I’m now linking to IndieBound for all books. Please do what you can to support your local bookshops and small businesses. Odds are they can get you anything Amazon can, and it’ll help out your community. Secondly, where possible, I’m also linking to the author’s personal webpages. Check them out. Follow them. It’s a nice way to stay current with what’s happening in the world of weird fiction. Please remember, while I’ve ordered these by price, the prices and availability are subject to change. I don’t have any control over that. Happy shopping!

 QUICK LINKS 

• Books • Music • Apparel • Games • • Housewares • Miskatonic •

Books

Mother Hydra’s Mythos Rhymes by Jarred W. Wallace $9.95 + Shipping (Paperback)

This mock children’s book features twenty-one sinister nursery rhymes twisted with a Cthulhu Mythos bent and illustrated by the incredible Heather Hudson. Also included is a complete Edward Gorey-style alphabet. Every budding cultist should learn their ABCs after all.

The Worm And His Kings by Hailey Piper $13.00 + Shipping (Paperback) $6.99 (eBook)

This arrived only a few weeks ago, and I can’t wait to dive in. Set in New York City in 1990, the story follows Monique as she hunts for her missing girlfriend. But the trail goes much deeper than she realizes, sending Monique into a subterranean world of enigmatic cultists and shadowy creatures.

The Stars Were Right by K. M. Alexander $14.00 + Shipping (Paperback) $2.99 (eBook)

I’m nearly finished with Book Four’s edits. So, if you haven’t, now is the perfect time to start reading my Bell Forging Cycle. Follow Waldo Bell as he is sent careening through the multi-level megalopolis of Lovat, fighting to clear his name as a bloodthirsty killer stalks him. It’s mystery and monsters, chases and cults, and an ancient evil in a world that is similar but not quite like our own.

RADIO by J. Rushing $15.99 + Shipping (Paperback) $3.99 (eBook)

A jazz-infused, opium-soaked, historical fantasy with a transgressive edge that explodes from the opening chapter and never relents until its final pages—a welcome addition to modern fantasy literature and weird enough that it earned a place on this list.

Murder Ballads And Other Horrific Tales by John Hornor Jacobs $16.95 + Shipping (Paperback) $7.95 (eBook)

Seems like it’s becoming a tradition to see a new book from John Hornor Jacobs on this list every year, and it’s no surprise. He’s arguably one of the best mythos writers working today. This collection of recent horror and crime short stories takes you through tales involving old gods to malevolent artificial intelligences, plus it includes the sequel to his 2011 novel, Southern Gods.

The Cipher by Kathe Koja $17.95 + Shipping (Paperback) $3.99 (eBook)

Part haunted house story, part body horror, part descent-into-madness tale all told in the style of Transgressive Literature. The Cipher is one of those stories I was shocked I hadn’t read until this year. Koja writes stunningly physical characters and knotted complex relationships that feel eerily familiar to anyone who’s spent time in artist circles. Enjoy the Fun Hole. (One of my 2020 Three Great Horror Reads for Halloween.)

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones $26.99 + Shipping (Hardcover) $9.99 (eBook)

At its heart, this is a horror novel about growing up poor and native in western Montana. But The Only Good Indians also a novel about revenge, mistakes, and their extended consequences. I blew through it. I grew up not too far from where this novel is set, and I have yet to find a recent author that captures the behavior and actions of the people in that area quite as well as Jones. You’ll never look at elk the same way again. (One of my 2020 Three Great Horror Reads for Halloween.)

The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin $28.00 + Shipping (Hardcover) $14.99 (eBook)

The first of the Great Cities series focuses on a roiling, ancient evil that stirs beneath the streets of New York City and threatens to destroy the city. New York must go on, and it will take five protectors scattered across the boroughs coming together to stop it. An allegorical response to Lovecraft’s work and a love letter to the city.

The Dark Brotherhood and Other Pieces by H.P. Lovecraft $650.00 + Shipping (One Copy Available—Sold via AbeBooks)

This rare late-60s first edition copy from Arkham House is in fine condition with a fine dustwrapper. It also comes with an inscription by the publisher and editor of this work: “for Herb Arnold from the compiler – August Derleth.” An extremely unique find and a unique piece of weird fiction history.

No book catches your interest? Check out the books featured in one of the previous guides. • 2014 Books • 2015 Books • 2016 Books • 2017 Books • 2018 Books • 2019 Books •

Music & Audio

Tribute To H.P. Lovecraft by Epsilon Eridani Free (Digital Download)

This atmospheric and somber dark ambient album is the third project from Mexican electronic artist Juan Pablo Valle. Blending instrumental tracks, spoken words performances, and recitations of parts of Lovecraft’s stories, this tribute serves as an excellent horror soundtrack.

The Yellow Sign $6.99 (Digital Download)

While Lovecraftian music often skews towards dark ambient or metal performances, The Yellow Sign goes takes a more orchestral approach. Composer Graham Plowman has created a fantastic classical soundtrack putting this album on par with any feature film—brooding, menacing, and wonderfully enjoyable.

Beyond Madness by Aklo $9.00 (Digital Download)

Erich Zann would be jealous. Aklo, like its madness-inducing namesake, is hard to pin down. But this album captures “the beyond” in ways not often heard in modern music. Part noise, part experimental, Beyond Madness is an excellent addition to any Lovecraft fan’s collection.

Live from Stockholm by Ogham Waite $12.00 (Digital Download)

Ogham Waite, one of Innsmouth’s Deep One inhabitants, and the Amphibian Jazz Band are the mythos’ answer to the lounge stylings of early Tom Waits. Bluesy and moody, this seductively smokey album drips with saltwater. Waite’s performance and delivery are melodious as they are melodic, a great addition to mythos music.

Ambrose Bierce’s The Boarded Window $20.00 + Shipping (Vinyl)

This limited vinyl pressing of Bierce’s unsettling perspective-shifting tale is read by Anthony D. P. Mann and scored by Chris Bozzone. Cadabra Records always goes the extra mile with their products, and it’s clear from the hand-poured red and white splattered vinyl to the incredible art by Jeremy Hush.

Deities by Tortuga €22.50 ($26.68) + Shipping (Vinyl) €5.00 ($5.93) (Digital Download)

This one showed up randomly on a playlist, and I found myself intrigued. Once I listened to it, I became a fan. Tortuga is a Polish doom metal band whose work is loaded down with intricate and heavy driving riffs inspired by Lovecraft’s writings. It’s good stuff.

Not finding any music or audio that interests you? Check out one of the previous guides. • 2014 Music • 2015 Music • 2016 Music • 2017 Music • 2018 Music • 2019 Music •

Apparel

Tiki Cthulhu Embroidered Patch $9.00 + Shipping

I see many patches as I search for new cosmic horror gear throughout the year, and occasionally I find one that rises to the top. This sew-on tiki-styled Ctuhulu is 3″ x 2.5″ and was created for the 2018 H. P. Lovecraft Film Festival. If you want a mythos inspired adornment for your bag or jacket that’s a bit outside the norm, look no further.

Cthulhu Socks $18.00 + Shipping

It’s winter in the northern hemisphere, that means you need to keep your appendages warm. Also, socks-for-Christmas is a right of passage. Why not consider getting these Cthulhu Socks from PutYourSocksOn featuring tentacles up the side and an illustration of the dead and dreaming Cthulhu on the ankle.

Sourpuss Tropicthulhu Rosie Dress $29.00 + Shipping

When you are associated with the ocean, you generally get associated with the tropics regardless of where your sunken city dwells. This 40’s style Rosie Dress allows you to show your appreciation of R’lyeh’s favorite son in a subtle but delightful manner.

Amulet of Azathoth £23.95 ($34.42) + Shipping

It’s the grandpappy of the mythos deities in amulet form! Well, kinda. A representation of the nuclear chaos beyond angled space himself. This antique amulet is a little over an inch and a half long and is cold cast in a mixture of resin and brass—a stunning little pendant.

Mother & Father Statuary Set $85.00 + Free Shipping

These handmade and hand-painted resin figures of Dagon and Hydra would work perfectly as bookends or garden statues. Aged in a way to evoke feelings of lost treasure salvaged from the seafloor or perhaps a dank and forgotten chamber somewhere beneath Innsmouth. Kinda cute to boot.

Cara Mater Silvae Shub-Niggurath Woodcut Print $187.50 + Free Shipping (Limited Edition)

Liv Rainey-Smith’s fantastic woodcut work has long been a fixture in the weird lit community. This limited-edition print is done in the style of a sacred icon and features a great rendition of Shub-Niggurath, The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young, or as my readers will know her, “Cybill.”

Keeper of the Nightmare Mask $331.53 + Free Shipping (Made to Order)

Plague doctors always cut a fearsome figure in humanity’s historical memory, but what lies beneath that leather mask and shielded eyes? This custom made-to-order mask twists tentacles to form that familiar (and terrifying) plague-doctor shape adding an extra level of menace to an already menacing form.

Not finding apparel you like? Check out the apparel on one of the previous guides. • 2014 Apparel • 2015 Apparel • 2016 Apparel • 2017 Apparel • 2018 Apparel • 2019 Apparel •

Games

No Players Online Name Your Own Price (Windows/Linux)

What starts as a simple old demo of a capture-the-flag 3D shooter found on a discarded tape eventually twists and turns becoming something else entirely. I’m a sucker for the 80s glitch aesthetic, and it’s used here in masterfully unsettling ways—multiple endings, interesting game world, very much worth your time.

Kadath $5.99 (Digital Download, Early Access)

This first chapter of a first-person cosmic-horror adventure has you following the case of a World War II Nazi train that vanished only to reappear in a cave in the Himalayas 75 years later. Dripping with atmosphere and filled with brilliant puzzles, this first chapter left me excited for Kadath and wanting more.

Fate of Cthulhu $20.00 (Downloadable PDF) $35.00 + Shipping (Book + PDF)

In this tabletop roleplaying game from Fred Hicks and Evil Hat Productions, you and your friends will find yourself sent into the past on a mission to prevent the future. It’s a race against time as you try to stop the stars from being right and prevent Cthulhu’s foretold return, all before you and yours are transformed into something monstrous.

Elder Sign Dice – Blue Aether $24.99 + Shipping

Infinite Black has been making some wonderful cosmic-horror-themed gaming products for a few years. They’ve finally gotten easy enough to nab for holiday gifts. These Blue Aether Elder Sign Dice stood out to me, but they have a robust catalog making it easy to find the right gift for the dicing Lovecraft fan in your life. (Or yourself.)

Fate of the Elder Gods $63.99 + Shipping

Cults battle cults in this race to summon your ancient order’s elder god of choice! But it’s not just the other conniving worshippers and cult leaders you need to worry about, crafty investigators are on the prowl, and they’re working to subvert everyone’s goals as well. Hasten the earth’s doom in this competitive area-control game for two to four players.

Hastur $274.99 + Shipping (Two Shipments)

I’m a big fan of the Mysterious Package Company, the quality of their products always impresses. This latest journey into the realm of Hastur is no exception. Taking place over several mailings, Hastur invites the recipient into the world of the King in Yellow, the play with the same name, and the utter madness that dwells within those words.

Not finding a game you’d enjoy? Check out the games on one of the previous guides. • 2014 Games • 2015 Games • 2016 Games • 2017 Games • 2018 Games • 2019 Games •

Housewares & Collectables

Cedric’s Eatery 11oz. Mug $16.00 + Shipping

It’s cold out, and you need a new mug. Why not pick one up from Lovat’s own Cedric’s Eatery located in the entresol between Levels Three and Four. An in-between place for in-between folks. Waldo Bell’s latest hangout. Fill your mug with 11 oz. of bad coffee, your favorite tea, or something stronger. [From the pages of the Bell Forging Cycle.]

Cthulhu Clay Idol & Letter $29.80 + Free Shipping

Alternative takes on the Cthulhu idol are rare. More often than not, we see the same shape repeated over and over. Because of that, this rawer, more original piece stood out to me. It feels more realistic in many ways, reminding me of the sort of thing one would find on an archeological dig. Plus, with the attached letter, you get a little mini-experience here.

Sea Monster Shower Curtain $32.00 + Shipping

There be dragons. And there. And there. And… well, all over the place! If you love weird old sea monsters and old maps, then this curtain will be perfect for you. Decorate your shower with this fantastic curtain featuring beasts that look lifted from early Renaissance maps. 70″ x 72″. Liner recommended.

Cthulhu Lovecraft Blanket $59.99 + Shipping

As cooler air moves into the northern hemisphere, we can all celebrate the arrival of the cozy season. To stay warm, why not cuddle up beneath this cotton and acrylic Jacquard Knit blanket featuring the squatting visage of The Great Dreamer himself? He might be cold but you don’t have to be.

Anxious Blob Original Sculpture $325.00 + Shipping (Supplies are limited.)

This weird little one-off sculpture of a nervous little entity is made with polymer clay and hand-painted. The eye sits beneath a glass dome giving this piece a unique character. Who among us hasn’t wanted an anxious blob with hundreds of teeth and a single staring eye decorating our walls?

Not finding a houseware item you like? Check out the housewares from one of the previous guides. • 2016 Housewares • 2017 Housewares • 2018 Housewares • 2019 Housewares •

Miskatonic University

Miskatonic University Pennant $15.99 + Shipping

I love seeing all the different takes for Miskatonic University collegiate gear. Here you can show your support for “Ole Misk” with a felt pennant from H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society and cheer on the “mighty Miskatonic Myrmidons” to another victory. Wave that banner proudly!

Miskatonic University Real Leather Notebook $41.40 + Shipping

Journaler? Artist? Writer? Mathematician? Norwegian sea captain? Random idea generator? If you’re one of these, odds are you need a notebook. This 8″x6″ Miskatonic-themed journal features 100 sheets of thick handmade Khadda paper and is durable enough for the dig site while still being elegant enough for the classroom.

Miskatonic University Wax Seal $48.07 + Shipping

Secure your correspondence with old friends from bygones eras who seek answers using this classic and exquisite seal. It might not stop prying eyes, but at least your old colleagues will know if someone’s been tampering with their mail. (Wax sold separately.)

Miskatonic University Hockey Sweater $109.00 + Shipping (Supplies are limited.)

Every sports fan needs a jersey. Miskatonic students are no different. It’s why when I came across this Hockey Sweater from Geeky Jerseys I knew it’d be perfect for the cosmic horror student in your life. (While this one is great, I’m hoping the superior Miskatonic 2.0 sweater becomes available once again.)

Not finding any Miskatonic University gear you like? Check out the Miskatonic University items from one of the previous guides. • 2014 Miskatonic • 2015 Miskatonic • 2016 Miskatonic • 2017 Miskatonic • • 2018 Miskatonic • 2019 Miskatonic •

  Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays!

So that wraps up the seventh annual List of Lists. Let’s all keep wearing our masks, socially distancing, and washing our hands so we can all do this again next year. Big thank you to everyone who has suggested items in the past to help me pad out this list. Y’all rule. If I didn’t get to your submission, fret not. There are many more holidays ahead. I appreciate the help.

Do you have a book, game, album, or other weird fiction-related items I should feature in 2021’s Cosmic Horror Holiday Gift Guide? Leave a comment below with links to your favorite goodies for others to see, or send me an email as a potential submission for next year!

Want to stay in touch with me? Sign up for Dead Drop, my rare and elusive newsletter. Subscribers get news, previews, and notices on my books before anyone else delivered directly to their inbox. I work hard to make sure it’s not spammy and full of interesting and relevant information. Sign Up Today→

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[spoon-writes]

Ends of the Earth | Chapter 20

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse, and soon they travel across the galaxy looking for her missing husband.

A/N: Hello guys! I literally just finished watching chapter 13 and hooooo boy. Hoo boy. No spoilers here but … boyWould love to hear your thoughts both on the chapter and well, the chapter.

Chapter index

Chapter 20 - Back on Track

When Din woke the next morning, it took a couple of seconds for his brain to reboot and a couple more for sensation to return to his body. It had always been like this when he slept in his armor, but he didn't remember it feeling like he had gone three rounds with a Mudhorn when he was younger.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, and a breeze blew in through the partially opened door that smelled of resin and clean earth. Somewhere, a bird was chirping.

His eyes landed on Sinead kneeling before the cold fireplace where the remaining wood had been arranged in a precarious pyramid. A thin wisp of smoke curled into the air as she tried to light it with his firestarter, her stare so intense that it looked like she was trying to light it with concentration alone. Her hair hung loosely down her back in the same soft waves as the night before, and she had rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, revealing toned forearms.

The flame caught for a second before winking out.

With a huff, she looked up at the ceiling before getting to her feet. "Who needs fire anyway," she said in a whisper.

For one staggering moment, Din thought she was talking to him. Did she know he was watching her?

Before he could respond, there came a cooing from the end of the bed, and Din finally noticed the child sitting in a beam of sunlight, watching Sinead just as intently as Din was.

"That's right." She turned and rifled through the pack, where she pulled out some bantha jerky and two ration bars. The kid held his hands out in a grabbing motion, and she gave him the jerky, which he wasted no time ripping through. "You're hungry, huh?" She smiled down at him.

The mattress barely dipped as the child crawled up toward Din's head, trilling what almost sounded like a melody.

"Oh no, you don't," Sinead said as she grabbed the kid and pulled him away. "Your old man needs all the rest he can get."

Old man?

His stomach clenched with guilt, doubt, regret, every emotion that came to him when he had a moment alone. The look Sinead had given him when she heard of his plan to leave the child had shaken him more than he wanted to admit.

Holding the kid with one arm, Sinead leaned over the bed and waved a hand in front of his helmeted face,  an unreadable look in her eyes. Din almost laughed out loud when suddenly she moved closer until she was all he could see, staring into his helmet with narrowed eyes. His mouth went dry, and his muscles flexed as if he was gearing up to run.

With a slight shake of the head she stood, and Din let himself relax. She placed one of the ration bars on the musty bed and left the cabin, leaving the door ajar behind her.

When he was sure she wouldn't come back, Din sat up in the bed and winced as his back cramped. Slipping off his helmet, he allowed himself a moment to feel the fresh air on his face.

The wood Sinead had left in the fireplace had been stacked in such a way that ensured it would never catch fire.

He quickly ate the ration bar and slipped the helmet back on, gearing up to stand. When he finally moved, his tendons twanged with discomfort. He couldn't wait until all this was over and they were back in the Crest.

Grabbing the pack, he went outside. Faint wisps of mist still clung to the shadow, but otherwise, there were no signs of the rain from the day before. The little clearing was awash with sunlight.

Sinead and the child were in sight of the hut, standing beside a scummy pond Din had missed in the darkness and rain the day before. The child moved through the tall grass that lined the pond while Sinead watched him with an amused look on her face. She turned her head when he neared. "Sleep well?"

Din shrugged and kept his eyes on the kid. "Fine." Even if he tried, he couldn’t look directly at her.

"The bed wasn't half bad. You should get one for the ship, you know, instead of a bunk that would be too short for an Ugnaught."

He ignored her. "You're ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said and stretched her arms above her head. "How long to the settlement?"

"About five hours. If it keeps dry."

"I'm really starting to regret this excursion. I should've just stayed in the ship with the kid."

"Told you." Din stopped the child just moments before he stumbled into the pond, gathering him into his arms.

Sinead rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth quirking up in a smile. "You did."

The cabin had only just disappeared when they found a path leading in the direction of the settlement. It was narrow and barely noticeable between tufts of coarse grass and anthills, but it was too direct to be made by animals, and as they walked, Din noticed small signs of sentient life; a burnt-out torch tossed to the side, a cairn where the path divided.

“What do we do,” Sinead said, shifting the kid to her other arm, “if we get to the settlement and there’s no mechanic? Or if there is one who knows shit-all about starships?”

“Hm.” Din looked up at the blue sky visible between the leaves. “Go to the next place, I guess.”

“And how far is that?”

“About five days.”

Sinead sighed theatrically.

“Not a fan of hiking?”

“Let’s just say I get why my parents never took me camping.”

“With any luck we’ll be on our way soon.”

“Yeah.”

He glanced at her, unsure of what to say. An unreadable emotion flitted across her face before she cleared her throat. “What kind of freak weather phenomenon do you think is gonna happen today? I’m thinking giant waterspout.”

“There isn’t a big enough body of water near here.”

She flashed him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure it’ll find a way.”

… … … … …

Sinead was just about ready to give up and lie down flat on her face when the first house finally came into view. Her body ached after the walk through the wilderness, and the thought of a hot meal – not ration bars or flavorless jerky – was the only thing propelling her forward.

Now they just needed a mechanic who knew their way around a starship, and they were good to go.

Back on the trail of Kyen the Pirate.

There was no real defining boundary between the forest and the village; gradually, houses started popping up between the trees, getting closer and closer together until the path became a dirt road that led to the heart of the settlement. The houses themselves were squat and thatched with dark straw, making them look like overgrown mushrooms. The inhabitants, a mix of different species, stopped in their tracks and stared as Sinead and Mando walked by.

“You’d think they’d never seen an outsider before,” Sinead whispered to Mando.

“Stay on guard.”

She gave him a look. "Relax. I doubt these people know how to hold a blaster, much less shoot one."

Mando grunted a reply, keeping his eyes on a group of men standing around a workbench that was piled high with bits of wood.

As they walked, a flock of villagers gathered to trail behind at a safe distance, murmuring amongst themselves. Mando kept looking back at their impromptu tail, hand inching closer to his blaster every time.

Sinead smiled at a young Zabrak child sitting on the curb in front of a house. "Just remember I'll never forgive you if you get us thrown out before the ship's repaired."

"At least you'll be alive to hold a grudge."

"Look, I’m all for healthy paranoia, but this is weird, not dangerous.”

He made a noise and scanned the gathering crowd, but at least he didn’t draw his blaster.

The center of the settlement turned out to be a small square with a well in the center. It seemed like the entire village was there, pushing each other to get a better view of the strangers. Worry crept up Sinead's spine as it became clear just how outnumbered they were.

“What now?” Mando said tightly.

She took a deep breath and addressed the crowd. "Our ship crashed a day's travel from here. We're looking for a capable mechanic or someone willing to haul it to one. Pay's in New Republic credits."

An ancient Ithorian shuffled through the crowd, leaning heavily on a walking stick, and the onlookers moved out of the way for him. The Ithorian had a translator fixed over both mouths, and when he warbled in Ithorese, there was a slight delay before the translator garbled in a scratchy voice: "Welcome, strangers, to our village. It is not often we see new faces here."

That was obvious.

Sinead stepped forward. "We're honored by such a warm welcome." Strange welcome, anyway. "As I said, our ship is in need of repair. It's about a day's travel north of here."

"Do not tell me you were caught in the storm last night." The Ithorian stopped his slow shuffle and peered at them. Even bent low with age, he was a head taller than Sinead.

"We managed not to be swept away."

"Not everyone can say that. Fand-Dala storms are not to be trifled with." It was hard to gauge on such an alien face, but if she were to guess, he was being friendly.

"Well, yeah. Barely managed," said Sinead. "I don't suppose there's a mechanic 'round here who can fix the ship? It doesn't look like you have much need for starships."

The Ithorian made a noise that sounded like it came from deep in his chest, and it took a moment for Sinead to realize that he was laughing. "We have one of those, yes. She mostly works on hovercarts now, but I am sure she can repair your ship."

Sinead and Mando exchanged a glance; hovercarts and starships were very different when it came to the finer workings, and just because she could fix one didn’t mean she could fix the other.

"Follow me, please." The Ithorian led them through the parted crowd and down a winding street, his steps slow and careful. Sinead walked beside him while Mando took up the rear.

The Ithorian told them his name that sounded like a deep trilling moan spoken with both his mouths which the translator didn't even bother trying to parse. He laughed when he saw Sinead's frozen smile. "But you can call me Dibs."

"Pleased to meet you, Dibs. I'm Jesha, and this is ..." she looked back at Mando. "Uh, the Mandalorian."

"Yes, I can see that. What are you doing all the way out here? This system seldom sees a lot of travelers."

"We were on our way to Neth when the ship started to die. It was lucky we made it to the planet, or else we'd still be floating in space."

"Lucky indeed. Let us hope that Zlii can get you up and away before the next storm hits."

Dibs stopped outside a small house close to the edge of the settlement. Loud music came from the other side. "She must be in her workshop, then." He led them down a dirt path between two houses and into the backyard, where the music was much louder, bouncing between the walls until it was an unintelligible wail. A shack stood against the back of the house, not much more than some branches and a tarp to keep the rain out. One side was open, and Sinead saw a workbench overflowing with mechanical parts, tools, and schematics. Open crates spilled their content across the ground. If Peli Motto's workshop had been chaotic, this was an outright calamity.

A hovercart stood on supports in the middle of the courtyard, and two legs stuck out beneath it, clad in a dark jumpsuit. Dibs walked over and prodded them with his cane. There was no point in trying to talk over the music.

Green hands shot out from under the hovercart, and a small, angry-looking Rodian emerged, oil smeared across her hands and face. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Sinead and Mando.

Knocking the walking stick to the side, she got up and leaned into the hovercart to shut off the music. A deafening silence followed.

"All right," the mechanic said, her constellation eyes cold. "What'd you want?" She stared unblinkingly at Mando.

Dibs didn't seem perturbed in the least, but maybe Ithorians just showed it differently. "They are strangers-"

"You don't say. And here I thought we'd always had a Mandalorian."

Dibs laughed and looked at Sinead. "Do not be discouraged by her words, she means well. I am sure she can help you on your way."

She narrowed her eyes. "Help with what, exactly?"

Sinead stifled a sigh. This was going to be an ordeal. "Our ship crashed in the forest north of here."

"Too bad."

"Zlii ..." Dibs said. "I told them you can help. Let it not be known that we do not extend our assistance when needed. And they will pay." He shot a look at Sinead, who nodded.

Zlii sighed with her whole body. "What makes you think I can help?"

Dibs leaned on his walking stick. "Did you not work in a spaceport? I am sure you will enjoy the challenge."

"Starting to regret telling you that," she mumbled. 

Mando cleared his throat impatiently, and Sinead stepped in before Zlii had a chance to respond. “Will you give it a look? That’s all I’m asking.”

“How many credits d’you got?”

Mango pulled out a pouch. “600 to look at it, 200 more to fix it.”

Zlii took a moment to consider. “Exactly how crashed is it?”

“The energy cycler and cooling unit are fried,” Mando said.

“Okay.” Zlii pushed off the hovercraft. “Seems pretty straightforward.” She went into the shack where there was a loud bang as she shifted through the piles of junk.

“Guess that means she’ll help.” Sinead looked at Mando, who shrugged.

“Zlii has always been a prickly one,” Dibs said, his translator pronouncing every word slow and clear. “She came to us not many cycles ago. She is a capable mechanic, but I am afraid her skills are not being put to their full use.”

The young Rodian in question came out of the makeshift workshop carrying a large pack overflowing with tools and spare parts. “I can hear you, you know.” She glanced at the kid and made an unimpressed harumph. “Well, are we going then? You better find a speeder bike that can take us because I’m not walking a day lugging this.”

“I believe I can help you with that,” said Dibs.

… … … … …

The trip back to the ship only took a couple of hours thanks to an old human and his landspeeder that could move through the forest quickly, levitating above every hole or treacherous root. It would have been a pleasant ride if it hadn't been for Zlii's sullen silence and Mando's short and reluctant answers to even the most mundane questions. In the end, Sinead had sat back and stewed in silence while the shadows grew longer. If Zlii was as good as Dibs had implied, they wouldn't be stuck on the planet for much longer.

The kid sat beside Mando, and the settlement was barely out of sight before he crawled up onto the rim of the landspeeder, ears flapping in the wind. The only thing keeping him from flying out was the death grip Mando had on the back of the kid’s robe. He giggled whenever the landspeeder swerved between the trees.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Sinead saw Zlii watch the kid with something akin to interest; She could see the question forming on the Rodian’s lips before Zlii noticed Sinead watching and her face fell into the usual scowl.

At last, they made it to the ship, and everyone got out. The Razor Crest sat where they'd left it, dark and out of place in the middle of the forest. A bird had started building a nest in the crook of one of the turbines.

"This it?" Zlii jumped down, throwing the big pack over her shoulder. "You sure it's worth it? Could probably get more selling it for scrap."

"Just see what you can do." Mando pushed a button, and the ship came to life, the cargo door opening with a hiss.

Sinead stayed in the landspeeder while Zlii worked, and Mando watched her silently. Her legs were still sore from all the walking, and the kid had found his way into her lap, where he dozed on and off, sometimes awoken by Zlii's snippy questions or Mando's curt answers. Their driver had reclined in the front seat and pulled his hat down over his eyes, effectively shutting out the entire circus.

Zlii went back and forth between her pack where she pulled out more and more complicated tools that Sinead didn't know the names of. When she wasn't busy snarking at Mando, she was muttering to herself and banging on various parts of the ship, listening to the sound with concentration.

The sun had gone down when Zlii stepped back, wiping a hand across her forehead that left a streak of oil. "Done all I can for her. She just needed a bit of convincing, is all,"

"And we won’t fall out of the sky again?" Sinead struggled to her feet.

"Not right away. The energy cycler is back on, but the cooling unit needs replacing as soon as possible. For whatever shit you put her through, she runs pretty well.” That was the first positive thing Sinead had heard her say.

Mando handed over the rest of the credits, and Zlii carefully counted them, glaring at Mando now and then. "It’s all here." She sounded disappointed.

"You think we'd cheat you?" Sinead said.

"Wouldn't be the first to try. Hey, Onaas!"

The driver lurched into a sitting position and lifted his hat off with a finger. "Yeh?"

"We're leaving." The pack landed heavily on the speeder, and Zlii soon followed.

"What if it breaks down again?" Sinead leaned against the speeder. 

"Guess that means you’ll suffocate in space," Zlii spat.

"Is that really any way to talk to your customers?" She didn't know why she was needling her, just that it had been a long day, and Zlii seemed like someone easy to needle.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, princess. Next time feel free to choose any of the other mechanics."

Sinead opened her mouth, but Mando broke in before she had the chance to reply. “Thank you for coming all the way out here.”

“If it means getting you off the planet.” Zlii leaned back in her seat. “Ready to go?”

Onaas grunted and touched his hat in a brief goodbye before the landspeeder came to life and sped off into the darkness, leaving Mando and Sinead to board the ship.

Back on Kyen's trail.

<- Previous chapter - Next chapter ->

[minsyal]

Mutual Feelings Pt. 14, [Revali x Reader]

Summary: No. 

Despite Revali’s best efforts, your catatonic state of late nights and spending every waking moment in your room doing research persisted. You continually worked into the early hours of the morning until exhaustion hit and the world spiraled into a fit of eerily calm darkness. Sometimes you’d wake on your bed, tucked beneath the many blankets Revali had sourced from the village, but most of the time you were left to wake with flushed skin against your hard-wooden desk. The bags below your eyes snuck back into your life and your skin grew duller and duller as the days passed.

Visiting the Champions was your getaway. Gerudo was quite beautiful and one of the more peaceful places lately, despite the Yiga Clan who always greeted you between the Bazaar and the City. At night, the sounds of a bustling city grew quiet, only leaving behind the graceful wind as it moved and shaped the vast desert. Urbosa was pleased to see you, gladly leading you to the Divine Beast where you installed what you believed to be your final updates. The Calamity was growing close and a final battle was soon to happen whether you wanted it to or not.

“What will this thing do?” Urbosa brushed her hand on the top of your new installation, her fingers delicately scraped against the metal. “I was surprised when this arrived at my doorstep.” She laughed. “I knew it had to be another one of your plans when I saw how detailed the instructions were.” A piece of paper slipped from her hand as she held it up to catch the light. You had sent out your plans to the Champions but hadn’t exactly told them what your plans were supposed to do.

“It’s going to make sure you stay safe…” your breath hitched in your throat, “when the battle happens.”

“Do you plan on moving to the Lab? Your safety is just as important as ours. The castle will surely be Calamity Ganon’s first target.” She moved around the module; her attention drawn away from the blueprints.

“There’s no room for me there, Urbosa.”

“Well, you can always stay here in the City… but I do suppose that would ruffle Revali’s feathers.” She let out a light airy laugh as a calm smile rested upon her face. “He needs that every-so-often. It’s good for him.”

Having just suffered through a nasty thunderstorm, the Domain was rather cold today. An angry breeze ran down the canyon walls, racing the droplets of water it threw up as it went. Many Zora were enjoying it, though. They were happily swimming up and down the river, greeting you as they passed.

Stepping foot into the Domain, your eye immediately caught the bright red scales Mipha and her younger brother Sidon dawned. They stood together just below the throne room, laughing playfully at something one of Sidon’s friends said. You approached, a content smile on your face despite your physical appearance. Mipha took note.

“[Name.]” She met you halfway up the steps in a warm, friendly embrace. Her arms locked together at your shoulders, giving a slight squeeze. “Are you alright?” She whispered, only letting loose enough to examine your physical status. Her cringe wasn’t hidden well as her brows laced together. “Come, let me take care of that for you.”

Ruta was growing impatient lately. The Beast could sense the unrest beneath Hyrule as the Calamity geared up for its final battle against all that is good.

“More upgrades?” Daruk groaned. “Poor Rudania ‘sgot to be tired by now.”

“Good to see you too, Daruk.” You strolled into the city, clutching the few materials you could carry on your own.

“N-not that I didn’t want ‘ta see you!” He gave you a goofy smile. “Aren’t ‘cha workin’ a bit too much, kiddo?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I moved all that stuff ‘ya had delivered up to Rudania. Lots’sa metal! Doing more upgrades?”

When you arrived in Rito Village, you stayed as far away from Seoi or Junil as you could. Nobody could pay you enough to face them after Keumi passed away. Nobody greeted you on the bridge, nobody walked you up the steps jumping up and down excitedly as you explained why you were there, and nobody spoke to you as you ascended the steps up toward Revali.

“Ah,” he turned from his desk and quickly collected something from a hook, “you’re early.”

Medoh’s installments were the easiest of them all. Medoh knew you well by now. Everything went smoothly, each nut and bolt that went into Medoh was accepted and adjusted. Before you knew it, the updates were finished.

Revali’s home was quite small, only a few square feet. His prized bow rest against one of the support beams near the back of the room. A large hammock hung from the rafters with a blanket lazily hanging from it. Unlike a majority of the homes, you spotted a desk where a journal laid open with Revali’s signature cursive inscribed inside. Who knew he kept a journal?

“People can see us.” You pointed out, head turning awkwardly away from the Elder’s home that sat no further than ten feet away. The Elder could clearly be seen inside, his nose buried in a book.

“Unlike you Hylians,” Revali tugged you closer to him, “us Rito aren’t nosey.”

Returning your gaze to the Elder, you noted that he really hadn’t turned to see what was going on inside Revali’s home once. He was happily doing his own thing; almost unaware you were even in the village.

“Anyway,” he leaned back against a pillow he had moved to the floor, “you look better.”

Thinking back to your recent endeavors, you were reminded that your health wasn’t your own doing. Mipha was a blessing, and she was responsible for it. “Yeah.” You mumbled, relaxing a bit into him.

“I got you something.” A hand brushed the hair from your shoulders as a chain was lightly strung around your neck. You heard a small snap as he connected the two ends.

Proudly, he pulled his neck pack to get a better view, eyeing the necklace. “Look for yourself. I quite like it.”

The necklace was light weight, clear, with two feathers encased in a thick layer of resin. The contrast between the two colors was stark, but somehow worked nicely together. A larger Prussian blue feather that faded to white was laid behind a small one that was fiery orange.

“Is this…?” You examined the piece. “When did you get this?”

“It was commissioned a few weeks ago. I thought it would be a nice gesture to remind you that,” he moved closer, “that we’re always by your side.”

“Where’d you get hers?”

“It would have been much easier if you hadn’t such a messy room.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “It was on your tunic.”

“Why do you do this to yourself?” He whispered. The night had deepened, the Elder had long since gone to sleep, and the Village had quieted. Lanterns were extinguished and soft snores filled the air from each and every home. Every home but Revali’s.

“Do what?” You mumbled; eyes closed. Your head lay softly against Revali’s chest, listening to the soothing repetition of his beating heart.

“Never take time for yourself. Relax a bit.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You grumbled, turning to ruffle his feathers further. He brought the blanket up around your shoulders, tucking it under your chin. “When Zelda found you to ask if you’d help, you were practically killing yourself.”

“I was practicing, mind you.” He sighed. “I wanted to be the Village’s finest warrior and in order to do so I had to work for it.”

“So, think of it like that. I want to be the best scientist, but I have to work for it.”

“You already are the best scientist Hyrule has to offer. I’ve yet to see the one with the nasal voice or the other one with the large spectacles. They’ve not worked on Medoh once.”

“We’ve gone over this – Purah and Robbie. Nice people. They’re getting all the recognition, though.”

“From who?”

“The King.”

Revali scoffed, nuzzling closer as the wind knocked on the door and entered without permission. The room chilled, the surface of your skin frosted in the crisp air. “And who says the King’s recognition is important?”

“Once again, rich coming from someone who already has that.”

“I can never win with you, can I?” He chuckled, his chest rumbling as he did. “Once this is all over, I think we should take some time to ourselves.”

“But we aren’t dating.” You reminded him.

“I beg to differ. Have you seen your current state? Perched upon my chest for the hundredth time this month and you truly believe we aren’t dating?” He scoffed, throwing his head back to let out a laugh.  “You’re far too modest to admit you’re one of my adoring fans, aren’t you? You must feel like you’ve won the lottery! To be with me, of course.”

“Where will we go?”

Revali stopped rambling and adjusted himself beneath you, his grip tightened around your shoulders. “Wherever we want.” A smile crept its way upon his lips as he listened to your breathing slow and become steady. “Perhaps somewhere outside of Hyrule.” There were vast unexplored lands beyond the seas, past the mountains, and further into the desert. Adventure was waiting beyond the borders you had set up for yourself.

“I think that would be fun.”

The two of you grew quiet as Revali assumed you had drifted to sleep. Medoh creaked above, the gears rubbed against one another as the Beast patrolled the open skies. Crickets chirped in the distance, the river flowed loudly, winds whipped and swirled up from the updrafts, and the crack from a far-off avalanche filled the night with an orchestra of sound. He swallowed as he thought back to the last time you visited the Village. He felt a pang in his chest as he was reminded of the friendship and family you lost. He felt his heart beat faster as he pondered whether it was the right time.

“[Name]?” Revali called, catching you off guard. He had never called you by your name before. You had become so attuned to the array of nicknames.

“Hmm?” You hummed; your eyes were still closed as you awaited his response. His heart rate audibly picked up.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[darkredehmption]

From This Life To The Next

#SL - From This Life To The Next

Written by @DamagedBrother and @OfFeatherNFang 

*~*~*~*

Zsadist: 

This was it. Today was the day that I was going to be officially mated to my angel. I still couldn’t believe it. Like somehow, this was all a dream that I was going to sadly wake up from. But it wasn’t. He was mine and would be mine until we went into the fade. 

Quietly, I slipped out of bed and left him to rest while I moved to our closet. Finding the ceremonial robes in the back as well as something special I had Vishous make for me as a gift to my male. With my arms full, I give the angel one more glance before I head out to get ready in another room. 

My head lifts to see Phury already waiting in the hallway, a huge grin on his face. “Figured I could lend a hand.” Chuckling as I made my way over to my twin, turning to watch as Rhage came up from the stairs with four donuts in his hands and one shoved in his mouth. 

“You. Go help him get ready and make sure he doesn’t sleep through it.” Hollywood flashed a bright smile that would make hundreds of women swoon. 

“You got it chief!” He replied with his mouth full, practically skipping off towards our bedroom where I just left my male. 

“Crazy.” I mutter, gazing at my Brother. “Rhage might send Malachi running for the hills.”

“The angel isn’t going anywhere, he loves you too much.” My twin replied as we made our way to one of the guest rooms on the other side of the stairs. 

“You say that, but somehow I feel like I’m gonna fuck up.” As I reached for the door, I felt his heavy hand on my shoulder. 

“Hey...He loves you, and you love him. Matings...are wonderful...and yes you will fight, but the love doesn’t go away. And if his does...so help me I will-”

I cut him off with a laugh. “Okay. Easy now. Please don’t scare him away.” Phury smiled at me as we moved inside the guest room to prepare for the ceremony. 

Mal:

I felt the soft rustle of sheets as Zsadist slipped from the bed. Half asleep, I didn’t bother trying to follow straight away, not until I heard the soft click of the door as it closed. There was a murmur of voices beyond it, and with a slow blink I opened my eyes. 

A lull, brief enough that I barely got to feel the anxious thrill as I thought of what the day held, before the door burst in and I started up. Rhage stood on the threshold, grinning around a donut then sauntering in as he shut the door.

“Rise n’ shine princess! It’s the big day! Gotta get you up and ready!”

I actually rolled my eyes and groaned as I flopped back to the sheets. I was glad my wings weren’t out, but then again, keeping them retracted seemed the better idea when I was going to have a name carved into my back. 

Zsadist’s name.

The thought earned a smile as I extracted myself from the sheets without any prompt from Rhage and rose, stretching with a yawn and a pleasant smile. Moving past the Hollywood-worthy male, I snagged a donut amidst protest, and entered the closet. Rhage followed, grinning at the robes I ran one hand down.

“Can’t believe this is actually happening for me.”

Somewhere in the manse, my mahmen was with the females, helping prepare for the day. The Brothers had no doubt set up whatever else happened in a mating ceremony, and Z had no doubt gone to get ready with Phury. My heart gave a nervous flutter as my stomach backflipped.

“Hey, you n’ Z? I’ve never seen him happier. N’ you look a lot different than the first time I saw you,” he added thoughtfully. 

Surprised at his words, I glanced back to him.

“How did I look?”

Rhage shrugged, taking a bite of his last donut. “Lonely. Cold. Real quick on the defence, y’know? Like you were used to always fighting to survive. To live. But since you’ve been here?” His smile, unfairly, could’ve stopped traffic in Times Square. “You’re lighter. All bright n’ shiny. You laugh. Did you laugh a lot before?”

The question stunned me for its accuracy. For all the talk that Rhage was a pretty face, the dude was damn insightful. Maybe Mary was rubbing off on him.

“Not really…”

A nod, a grin, and the last of the donut vanished. “Well, now you get a new family. A new life. N’ a new reason to laugh and be happy or whatever. So c’mon. Let’s do this! You need me to step out while you drop drawers or you want help arranging the robes?”

Zsadist:

I moved into the closet to slide on the ceremonial robes, while Phury changed in the bathroom. “I can’t believe this is happening…” I call out. “Like whoever thought I’d be getting mated.” Snorts.

“Oh I knew you would.” Phury chimes in. “I didn’t know when it would be, but I knew it would happen sooner or later.”

I hear shuffling around then a deep breath. Pausing as I look in the full length mirror only to see my twin standing behind me. “Well…?” I murmur as my hands smooth down the robes. 

“Perfect.” His golden eyes shine bright as he stares at me through the mirror, turning to meet his gaze. 

“Let me show you what Vishous helped me out with.” Phury perks up as I move to grab the black velvet pouch off of the bed. Slowly I pull out two twin silver daggers. They were so light that they almost looked white, and at the hilt were black wings on each side that V carved himself into the metal 

Phury’s jaw drops. “Whoa. Okay he’s going to love those, and can I get a set?” He chuckles, landing a hand on my shoulder. “They look amazing.” 

Nodding as my fingers move over the blades. “Let’s go down and make sure everything is ready, true?” My twin nods as I secure the daggers back into the bag, heading out of the guest room, and making my way down the grand staircase to find my family already waiting. 

Mal:

The robes almost remind me of the Chosen, and then of angels. Not sure why. It’s not like I ever met my father to know how he dressed, and Lassiter has clearly got to be the exception to the rule of the whole ‘angelic presence’ thing. Nothing ‘angelic’ about his presence. Staring at myself in the mirror though, I can’t help but think of the father I never met. The angel blood in my veins. 

Would he have approved of this? Would he have come? Would he care?

“You clean up nice,” Rhage complimented, slapping my shoulder in that brotherly way as he examines me in the mirror too. “Y’ready to head down? Need anything else? If you need to puke now’s the time.”

I elbowed him with a faint smirk. His words had the desired effect though; thoughts of my father faded into the background. And while I didn’t need to upchuck, my stomach definitely had a bad case of the butterflies going on.

“Fuck off. Y’know I still don’t remember half of the ceremonial stuff. I can recite a latin incantation to exorcise a demon but I can’t fucking remember how my own mating ceremony is supposed to go,” I mutter, glancing down and fiddling with the lining of the robe.

Rhage waved off my concern like it was an insect he was swatting.

“S’just nerves my man. You’ll be fine n’ everything’ll be great. You n’ Z being happy are all that matters, so if the day ends with that it was a success, right?”

My smile’s lopsided in the mirror. “Right.”

“Then let’s go!” He declared, grinning as he backed his massive frame out of the walk in and moved to the door. 

Before leaving, I moved to my weapons shelf - mine being the one that housed demonic tools in addition to Lesser fighting gear - and opened the small box I’d tucked in amongst the others. Something I knew Zsadist wouldn’t notice. 

Nestled amongst the velvet cushions inside was a pendant, the silver chain that looped through it long and pooling in the bottom of the box. The pendant itself was perfectly smooth, clear resin, and within it, in an almost gentle curve, was one of my feathers. It was small, glossy dark, and came from that sensitive spot right by my back. The spot only Zsadist got to touch. 

Swallowing a fresh hit of nerves, I closed the lid and spirited the box in amongst the robes. Then, squaring my shoulders, I followed Rhage out into the hall and downstairs, having zero idea what to expect, but ready for it anyway.

Zsadist:

I was gathered with my family in the foyer. Everyone was there, even most of the Doggen. They all had these big smiles on their faces, and I swear a few of them were crying. Like yeah, the big bad scarred one is getting mated. As if this day would never come.

Though honestly, I never thought it would. I thought that I was doomed to spend a life by myself, and I’d accepted that long ago. But things have changed; I have changed for the better. That’s the thing about finding your other half, they make you a better person. 

“Z man, you gonna puke?” Butch chimes in and I swear I saw Fritz giving him a dirty look. 

“He does look as green as the field in Fenway Park,” Vishous replies back with a smirk. 

“Everyone shut up, and no mention of the Soxs at my mating ceremony,” I growled out, hearing both Brothers crack up. Then one throat clear from Wrath had them both silenced. At a quick glance, I saw them still smirking at me, but a heartbeat later, all amusement left their faces as their heads snapped up towards the stairs. 

And there he was. My male.

I watched with light in my eyes as he descended the grand staircase with Rhage trailing close behind. He looked so handsome in the ceremonial robes that I couldn’t wait to peel off later. Biting back a growl as they reach us, nodding off Rhage as I take Mal’s hand. 

Lassiter soon appeared beside us, asking if I would basically do anything for my mate. Which of course, I replied that I would, but I couldn’t help but get lost in Mal’s eyes. He was finally going to officially be mine. 

After Mal is asked much of the same, I tug him into my arms to share a passionate kiss with him. Trying not to get too crazy as everyone erupts with joy. The clapping dies down as I pull back to begin the carving. Tugging free the shash, the robe falls to reveal my bare chest, scars and all. I give my male one final look before I move down onto my knees. 

Wrath steps forward first with George close behind. His hand blindly reaches out until it makes contact with my back. “What is the name of your Hellren?” The King’s booming voice echoes in the foyer. 

“Malachi.” I say proudly. 

In a quick swift movement, I felt Wrath dig the tip of the dagger into my flesh to form an M in the old language. I didn’t doubt for one second that he couldn’t do it properly. Blind or not, the male still could slice up anything with a blade. 

One by one each Brother stepped forward to mark a letter, when it was finally Phury’s turn, I couldn’t help but stare into his eyes that matched my own. 

With unshed tears in his eyes he mouthed ‘I’m so proud of you’.

I nod in return, feeling him at my back to dig in the final letter. Once it was all said and done Fritz stepped forward with a pitcher of water and a bowl of salt. This was one wound that I didn’t mind scarring my flesh. 

After the water is mixed with the salt, Phury dumps the thick, briny liquid down my back. But I don’t cry out. I just accept the pain as I stare into the eyes of the one I loved, my Brothers growling in approval. 

Soon after Phury bent down and opened the lacquer box, taking out a pristine white cloth. He dried the wounds then rolled the material up and put it back inside. 

“Rise my twin.” He spoke.

Slowly I got up. Across my shoulders, in an arch of Old English letters, was the angel’s name in my skin. 

My twin handed over the box with a big smile on his face. “Take this to your Hellren as a symbol of your strength, so he will know that you are worthy of him and that your body, your heart, and your soul are now his to command.”

Slowly I turned around to face the angel and I quickly dropped to my knees, lifting the box to present it to him. “Will you take me as your own?” I asked as my eyes just stared deeply into his.

Mal:

Standing aside to watch Zsadist have my name carved first was a test of willpower. I’d never actively stood by and watched another make my mate bleed, and I swallowed every growl and every snarl that rose in my throat as the scent of his blood stained the air.

My mahmen stepped in beside me, the only female here that truly knew me, and I gratefully accepted the grip of her hand as she held on and squeezed. She was smiling though, the look on her face one that could only be described as proud and happy. Because I’d found someone that made me happy. 

Bending down, I brushed my lips to her cheek, earning a gentle pat to my chest in response. Then I was focusing on Zsadist again, watching as the blades made every line of my stupidly long name. Should’ve just gone with ‘Mal’. 

As Phury placed the clothe in the box, and Zsadist came to me, kneeling, I somehow kept my hands from trembling as I accepted it, instead of spinning him and examining the wound like I wanted. Later, I would pin him to the mattress and examine every line, every etching, to make sure he was alright.

“I take you as my own. From this life to the next,” I whisper back, my heart ‘aching’ with raw affection and love. 

As soon as he was back on his feet I stepped in, pressing my lips to his in a further affirmation of that vow. Vampires believed in the Fade, but reincarnation wasn’t out of the picture. If I didn’t get forever in the afterlife with Zsadist I would find him again, in another life, another time. I would always find him.

Managing a smile and a wink, I carefully set aside the box and unfastened my own robes to reveal my back. Glancing amongst the Brothers, I then took a knee, sensing as Wrath approached again. His voice rang with approval. 

“What is the name of your Hellren?”

I smiled. At the word. At this moment. At what my life had become after so long being alone.

“Zsadist.”

The sharpness of the blade made the first cut almost painless, though with each additional mark, the sting deepened. I didn’t flinch though, didn’t move as one after another the Brothers approached and sliced into my flesh. The muscles that supported my wings shuddered, and I fought the need to summon them, keeping my back smooth and feather-limb free. Though the idea of a Brother accidentally touching my wing and Zsadist ‘accidentally’ flipping a table during our mating earned a small smile. 

When they finished, and the salt water etched my mate’s name forever into my skin, it was Rhage who approached with the box. I flashed him a grin, which he returned, and then I was facing Zsadist, kneeling as he had, and lifting the box to him. 

“Will you take me as your own?”

Zsadist:

Watching Mal get carved up was harder than I thought it was going to be. I mean, I knew my Brother's weren’t hurting him. This was the ceremony, but I couldn’t help the bonded male in me that wanted to tear everyone off of him. 

“Easy now…” Phury said in my ear.

I turned to meet my twin’s gaze with a raised brow. 

“I can smell your bonding scent, it’s telling me to back the fuck off right now.” He chuckled quietly, eyes shining bright as they gaze into mine before focusing on my male. “It’s almost over, enjoy this moment.” He breathed.

Slowly my head moves to gaze back at my angel on the floor. He was really doing this, becoming mine. Fuck. What did I do to deserve him? 

Suddenly I felt an unfamiliar hand at my back, causing me to stiffen. Jerking my head to the side to watch Mal’s Mahmen retreat her hand carefully. 

“I’m sorry to startle you.” She whispers. I could feel Phury’s eyes burning at the back of my skull. 

“No need. I uh...you just caught me off guard.” I grunt.

She smiles softly then murmurs. “It’s okay, big day for you two. I’m so proud and happy to have...another son.” 

I stare, dumbfounded for a moment. Another son? Me? Suddenly I felt my chest tighten, wishing somehow I got to spend more time with my real Mahmen. Clearing my throat after I realized I was taking too long to answer. 

“Of course, Elieanora,” I replied, watching as she smiled at me before we both turned our attention back to her son on the floor. 

Moments later he was up, heading over towards me with a box, just like the one I presented to him moments ago. 

“I will take you as my own, from this life to the next,” I replied calmly as I reached for the box, handing it off to my twin so I could pull my male up and into my arms. When my lips met his, a loud roar from the family filled the foyer. But I didn’t even bother to look up, I just continued to kiss the male that was officially mine. 

Soon as we break the kiss, the chanting starts, followed by a song in the old language. My angelic voice breaks through all the others in the foyer as I join in. My eyes on the angel, like he was the only one in the room, and I was singing for him. 

Mal:

My shoulders ached in a way I savoured, but nothing was better than Zsadist’s lips as he pulled me to him. The kiss seared through me, turning my blood to liquid fire as I clung to the male, /my/ male, and relished in this moment. The cacophony around us was a nice backdrop, but more than anything I wanted to taste him. Hold him. Drown in the bliss that he was mine, and I was his. 

Easing back from the kiss, my heart ached as he lifted his voice with the others, the pure melody bringing tears to the eyes of the females and rendering me utterly speechless as I watched him. He was a gift. 

As the song came to a beautiful end, I didn’t hesitate in claiming that perfect mouth again, as if I could taste the music, the melody on his tongue. There was wolf-whistling from the males and ‘awwwwwws’ from the females, and then the smell of food and delicious things that weren’t Zsadist.  

When I finally stepped back my mahmen approached, placing one hand over my heart, and the other over Z’s. The message was clear, and as she smiled up at me I finally let go of my male to sweep her into my arms. My mahmen, who’d raised me all alone, who’d found us a life and a purpose and done everything in her power to make sure I was safe. And now she blessed me, my union with this male I loved. Took him as her own. 

“Thank you,” I whispered to her, not trusting myself to let go yet, feeling the lump in my throat. “Thank you for being my mahmen.”

Her hands stroked at my back, reassuring as she laughed gently. “I don’t think either of us had a say in it,” she replied softly, “but I wouldn’t change anything. My beautiful boy. My angel.” She leaned back to cradle my face, then pressed a kiss to my brow. 

Around us, the first family and every other occupant of the house had begun to chatter and drift toward the food, celebrating with Zsadist. Elieanora nudged me.

“Did you like it? Was it how you wanted it?”

I blinked then reached for the box amongst my robes, withdrawing it with a relieved smile and a nod.

“It was perfect. Thank you.” Between my mahmen and the doggen, they’d found the right jeweller to make what I’d asked for. Looking to Zsadist, another gentle nudge was all it took for me to cross the distance, holding out the box. When his golden gaze alighted on it, my heart skipped.

“I… I wanted to get you something else. You have my name… but I wanted you to have a piece of me too. With you always.”

Zsadist:

As Mal and his Mahmen had a private moment, I took it upon myself to receive some hugs and handshakes from my Brothers. Even from afar, I saw Hadrian had joined in on this celebration. He stood off to the side with Lassiter as they shared some drinks. Raising my head as I gave him a nod, implying that I was grateful he was here and celebrating with us today. When I received one back, I turned my attention back towards my male. 

When he pulled away from Elieanora, I watched with a curious stare as he handed me a box. What in the world could he have gotten me? Slowly I open the lid. My golden eyes go wide as I see a single feather, his feather, attached to a silver chain that I could wear around my neck. 

Holy shit.

I’m speechless as I stand there gazing at it, my fingers dragging over the coated feather that I almost didn’t notice Phury nudging me. 

“Z...the daggers.” He whispers in my ear. 

“Shit, right.” I grabbed the black velvet bag from my twin and handed it off to my mate. Watching with amusement as he opened the gift I had made for him. 

“You are one of us now.” I say as he pulls the blades out and inspects them. “So you need something epic to carry when you are on rotation.” I grin.

“Yeah, and you better not lose them.” Vishous calls out from across the room.

Snorting at my Brother as I clasp the chain around my neck, dipping my head to watch the black feather rest upon my chest. I wore a part of him around my throat, his name on my back, and together we were one. 

So I reached out to grab his hand and shared one more kiss before we moved to enjoy this night filled with food, laughter, family, and friends. 

#EndSL #FromThisLifeToTheNext

[metaphortunes]

Howdy friends, I’ve written a few short stories that I wanted to throw out into the ether. And I went back and tagged all my previous writing posts with the tag “metaphortune writes” for easy finding!

Here’s a short story about small towns, the priorities of young people, the sweetness of summer, and siblings. I didn’t edit it at all so my apologies in advance for any grammar failures!

The Big Slush machine went out on Sunday, April 14th, 2005. If we’re being honest here, it was the only reason my sister and I went to Johnson’s Fuel Mart. Their soda fountain tasted like it dumped about as much plastic into every cup as it did soda syrup. Their candy was tremendously overpriced, they had 1 brand of chips, Big Harold’s, and they cleaned the floors about once every 2 years. But the Big Slushes were heaven.

Suffice to say, April 14th was the end of an era for us. Each passing week we drifted farther and farther from knowing those floors like the back of our hands. Our ability to use the Big Slush machine with surgical precision faded and we reverted to slushie peasants. Mona, the main evening clerk slowly forgot our names, and our allowances stayed in our pockets more than ever.

One Tuesday, July 14th, I walked to Frantz Park down on Alpine Road. The benches were covered in droplets of a syrupy, sappy resin from a tree I’d never learned the name of. After sitting on the 40-year-old swings for a while, rusty chains and all, I walked through the outfield of the baseball diamond.

There was a windstorm that blew through town on July 12th, so it was no surprise when, deep into center-field, I saw a few pieces of trash had blown into the grass. A 3ft long Walgreens receipt, a fast food wrapper, and the item that caught my attention. A full two months after the Big Slush machine went out, there it was. In pristine condition, a clear plastic Big Slush cup. 34 fluid ounces with a flared rim. No lid, no straw, just the cup.

Obviously, I was elated. I picked up the cup and started fast-walking home. Throughout the walk my mind was fixated on what I believed to be the one possible explanation for how the pristine Big Slush cup came to be there: somewhere in our 15 stoplight town, there was a new Big Slush machine.

Nora shared my enthusiasm for the cup, but was more skeptical of my hypothesis. Realistically speaking, there weren’t many other places that would’ve had the machine. Not to mention, would they have the good flavors? Blue Raspberry, White Cherry, and Cola? Would it even be worth it if the machine had the disappointment of Grape or the medicine taste of Strawberry? It was purely speculation, but our teenage minds raced.

The next day, geared up with a list of all the businesses we thought could have a Big Slush machine, we set out to find it. First, we walked up State Route 117 to the small grocery, Three Bear Market. No luck there, but they were having a sale on gum. Blowing giant, sticky bubbles, we walked to the next business. Cutting across the alley between State Route 117 and Terrence Street, we made it to McAllen’s Bakery. No luck there, but the owner was very nice and complimented our backpacks.

We took Terrence Street to Alpine Road and stopped for a short break at Frantz Park. The benches were still sappy, the swings were still rusty. Funny how things don’t change overnight. We walked the outfield of the baseball diamond looking for any other pieces of evidence, but alas, there was no trash to be found. That’s probably good in the grand scheme of things, but we were disappointed.

Walking through the streets with Nora was a slightly blissful experience. Not quite a full on sort of bliss where everything in the world is great and nothing ever hurts; but a soft, warm filter on everything. That’s the benefit of having a good relationship with your older sibling, having them around is like a blanket of security. Nothing can ever go THAT wrong when they’re with you.

We’d taken Alpine to First, then First to Reagan. On Reagan was the first gas station built in town, the Marathon, formerly known as the Brachston Pump Station. Marathon bought it up in 1996, installed all new pumps, remodeled the inside, and removed any character the building had had. Oh, and they didn’t have a Big Slush machine. Probably worth mentioning that.

From the Marathon on Reagan, we walked a block or so down the Walgreens. Walgreens having a slushie was a long shot, but didn’t pharmacies used to have soda fountains back in the day? It wasn’t THAT absurd. We wandered around the building to find exactly zero Big Slush machines. The clerks, disenchanted college dropouts, paid exactly zero attention to us.

The last place we tried was the only other gas station in town, Stop-N-Go. We had to walk the entire rest of the way down Reagan to where it dead-ended into Marshall Street and walk Marshall Street until it dead-ended into Montgomery Avenue. That all ends up being about a mile’s walk, but we were determined. We entered through the oddly heavy steel and glass door and asked the clerk. They didn’t have one.

However, the clerk, Henry, was also a fan. Or at least pretended to like them. As a favor to the owner, Henry worked one night at the other Stop-N-Go, about 4 miles away in Hallston back in 2003. He remembered them having a slushie machine, but couldn’t remember what type. We figured that even if it was there in 2003, it probably wasn’t there today, and slunk out of the store. But Henry came out after us and said “let me call the other store and ask them for you, alright?”

The clerk on the other end seemed very confused, but eventually was able to confirm the news we were so adamant on receiving: they had a Big Slush machine in working order! We expressed our joy and gratitude to Henry after he hung of the phone, he said he was “stoked it worked out for you.” We were stoked too, Henry.

We took Montgomery down to Fourth and ended up back home. Our parents wouldn’t be home from work for a few hours, which gave us time to plot exactly how we’d ask them to drive us 4 miles to go to a gas station. The plotting was all for naught, as they were tremendously unimpressed. “Next time we’re out that way, we’ll go” they said. But the reality of the situation was that we’d only been to Hallston a few times. It was in the opposite direction of Wrexham, the small city we’d go to from time to time.

Luckily, Nora remembered a fact that I had failed to remember. The rails-to-trails bike path that went through our town also went through Hallston. Neither of us were really that interested in biking, but if it meant getting a Big Slush? We’d have biked 20 miles one way. We got our bikes out for the first time in weeks that day, inflated the tires, tested our helmets, and set off.

Four miles is a hell of a bike ride when you haven’t biked in weeks. It was all flat land surrounded by farmer’s fields, but it was still 4 miles in the heat of July. Luckily, we had a frosty goal to keep our minds set on. Whenever we faltered or slowed down, the other would just say “Big Slush!!!” in a sort of TV commercial announcer voice. After a half an hour or so, we made it to the Hallston. Neither of us really knew where the Stop-N-Go was, but we fortune favored us. A Stop-N-Go fuel truck was stopping-n-going at the the traffic light near the bike path. We sped to follow it.

The truck took a left onto the state route and turned into the Stop-N-Go. Success! We found ourselves in the parking lot, shouting “Big Slush!!!” at each other in the aforementioned voice. We opened the surprisingly light (or just well maintained) steel and glass door and saw a large sign hanging from the ceiling that said “DRINKS” in Comic Sans. We walked towards the sign and found our holy grail. The Big Slush machine.

There it sat on a red counter, humming away and constantly rotating the slush inside. Condensation sat on the plastic windows to view each of the three flavors churning, and we parsed the flavor selection. Strawberry (aka medicine), Grape (aka disappointment), and White Cherry. As Meatloaf didn’t say: 1 out of 3 ain’t bad. But as we approached the machine, our hearts sunk. The White Cherry flavor was out of order.

We literally ran to the counter to ask the incredibly confused clerk what was happening and when it would be fixed. There was an error with the ratios of the newest White Cherry syrup batches which made the slushies too hard to fit through a straw. We begged the clerk to just turn it on and let us have some, we didn’t care that they’d be hard, we didn’t care how long it’d take, and we’d wait around; but the clerk refused.

Ultimately, we’d come too far for this to happen. We were going to drink a Big Slush and that was going to be the end of it. We swallowed our unhappiness and decided to get the flavors of medicine and disappointment. I got the Grape, Nora got the Strawberry. Honestly, they were not great. The Grape still tasted like the inside of a shoe, and the Strawberry still tasted like it was a slushie version of children’s liquid ibuprofen. But they still quenched a primal desire in us. Can you call a desire for a slushie a primal desire? Sure, why not.

The rest of the summer break, we’d bike to Hallston two or three times a week. Biking got easier each time we went, the rides got quicker, we had to shout “Big Slush!!!” at each other less. The White Cherry flavor never came back, but we learned to appreciate the Grape and Strawberry flavors. If we mixed the two, it almost tasted good for some reason. Grape and Strawberry isn’t exactly a combination you’d expect to taste cohesive and fulfilling, and yet, here we were.

Eventually the school year and extra-curriculars caught up with us and we were lucky to make it to the Hallston Stop-N-Go once a week. Our enthusiasm never waned, though. Each time, we hoped that they’d have finally gotten another flavor to replace the White Cherry, and yet, even a year after, they hadn’t. Strawberry and Grape. Medicine and Disappointment. Nora and Jamie.

[maryclaires1]

For just $18.00 A silver pendant with an odd assortment of mechanical parts: steampunk gears, springs, and little wings on this dog tag pendant. It began life as a blank and I filled it with bits from my collection of tiny things and recycled bits. There are 8 springs, several gears, and knobs, screws and a few other things you have to look closely to see. While it looks like a standard dog tag, it catches the light and shows off the unique composition. It is made by filling the blank with two-part epoxy resin and then adding the carefully selected small design items. Then it is brushed all over with permanent iridescent silver powder. There is even a tiny brass key in there somewhere! The pendant is hung from a wolven black cord and finished off with a little heart clasp. Can be made shorter if you like. See more like this at https://etsy.me/2O7zpDk The pendant weighs 2 oz and measures 3 in by 1.5 in. Free next-day shipping.

[tilecleaningtoday]

How To: Apply Epoxy Floor Paint

Give your dingy old garage floor a gleaming, long-lasting finish with epoxy paint.

You lavish attention on the bedroom and living room, bathroom and kitchen, but what about the unsung hero of many smoothly functioning households, the garage? If you’ve always been underwhelmed by the bland gray of the concrete slab, there’s a great way to give it a literally lustrous new look: epoxy paint. No, regular paint isn’t a terrible idea, particularly if you rarely set foot in the garage. But if yours tends to get busy, either with foot traffic or comings and goings of at least one car, opt for epoxy paint. This stuff is tough and resistant to grease, oil, various chemicals and all manner of scuffs—in other words, the litany of challenges that would ruin a regular paint job. Plus, epoxy paint boasts a distinctive, gleaming appearance. Best of all, it’s easy to apply. Here’s how it’s done.

First things first: Check the weather report. More important than the air temperature, however, is the temperature of the concrete you are painting. Its surface should be at least 55 degrees Fahrenheit. Assuming conditions are prime, proceed to strip off any old paint that exists on the surface, and remove any oil or grease stains that would compromise the epoxy finish. For those stubborn stains, I recommend using the forceful combination of a degreaser and scrub brush.

Once you’ve gotten the slab pretty clean, wet down the whole floor with a mixture of water and degreaser. Follow up with an electric floor scrubber, continuing until you see a healthy head of suds. That’s a sign that you’ve really gotten somewhere. Now, plug in a wet/dry vac and suck up as much of the moisture as possible. (Don’t empty the vacuum bucket, which now contains degreaser, in your yard. Check the product label and heed its advice for proper disposal.)

Epoxy adheres best to an etched concrete surface. That being the case, you must take the time to prepare the slab before you can begin applying the coating. Cover the floor with a 10-to-1 mixture of water and muriatic acid, then go over it a second time with the electric scrubber. Caution: Muriatic acid is dangerous. Closely follow the printed instructions, and be sure to wear all suitable protective gear.

Next, hose off the floor thoroughly. Allow the concrete to dry overnight. In the morning, it should have a slightly rough surface, with a consistency similar to that of sandpaper. It’s now ready for paint.

Epoxy comes in several varieties, the most common being solvent-based or water-based. Many commercial outfits choose solvent-based epoxies, because they are especially strong. The downside is that their fumes are highly toxic. Water-based epoxies are almost as good and produce no toxic fumes. So in residential use, it’s really best to stick with the latter. But note that if you opt for a solvent-based epoxy, it’s of paramount importance that you wear a respirator when working with the product.

Whether solvent- or water-based, epoxy paint usually requires the mixing of two components—resin and hardener—prior to painting. Mix thoroughly, using an electric drill chucked with a stirring bit. Once the epoxy is ready, you can finally begin to paint the floor, much in the same way you’d paint other surfaces.

Brush paint around the perimeter, then use a roller to cover the rest of the floor, section by section. In the interest of tidiness, keep a collection of rags handy. Use them to remove any misapplied paint. Epoxy thinner must be used with a solvent-based product; otherwise, water does a fine job. Let the first coat dry for at least a day before applying the second, final coat. You’re very close to finished now.

To dry out completely and cure, epoxy needs to sit undisturbed for as long as a week (confirm this with the printed instructions on the container of your chosen epoxy paint product). Only after the recommended amount of time has elapsed should you haul your stuff back into the garage. Yes, that’s inconvenient. But when you pull in the car, you’ll love how it looks parked—like a model in a showroom!

Source: www.BobVila.com

[robindluzenwriting]

Review: Mike Rea and Casey Whittier at Cleaner Gallery in Visual Art Source

No Body: New Work by Mike Rea and Casey Whittier by Robin Dluzen

Casey Whittier, “Proof: We,” 2022, cast glass, 8 x 8 x 8”. Photo Credit: T. Maxwell Wagner

Cleaner Gallery, Chicago, Illinois Continuing through February 19, 2022

In “No Body,” Kansas City artist Casey Whittier and Chicagoan Mike Rea realize an unlikely pairing of absurdity and serious craft. Here, woodworking (Rea’s) and ceramic and glass (Whittier’s) are the materials for objects and imagery of a very personal nature. While in the past both sculptors have created highly realistic facsimiles of vernacular objects, in “No Body” both Whittier and Rea have shrugged off hyper-realism. The intentionally unpolished finish of these pieces underscores the process of their fabrication, and the relationship between the artist’s hand and the intimate nature of that which is depicted.

Mike Rea, "Garter Harness/The Doors, Fan," 2021, wood, paper, ink, epoxy resin, spray paint, interior oil paint, 64 x 52"

Whittier’s pieces represent the kinds of things that are worn often, and close to the body. Baseball caps and eyeglasses are rendered in dense, cast glass, capturing the textural nuances of that which they index: tiny bolts at the hinges of the temples, the folds of mesh backs, the relief stitching of a John Deere logo. A t-shirt hangs from a steel post in the wall, the garment — with “All Vintage Guitars go to Heaven” emblazoned across the chest — is crafted from delicate, interlocking loops of clay. These objects feel fragile, as if the preciousness of someone’s well-worn items has been transferred into, and even accentuated by the fineness of the media into which they have been cast. Whittier’s shirt, glasses and hats seem uniquely specific to someone, although it’s her cast glass sets of teeth that have singular auras. In “Proof: We” and “I and You,” sets of top and bottom teeth are stacked upon each other, suggesting an orthodontic retainer or a mouthguard as a potential mold for the cast. In Whittier’s hands, what is essentially a dental record is also a profoundly poetic gesture of intimacy.

Whittier’s sentimentality is counterbalanced by Rea’s sublime absurdity. Several large-scale works on paper are rendered using a mosaic-like method, with tiny squares of wood scrap adhered to gessoed paper. In “Coda Chrome Away” and other works the wooden pieces are colored in with squares of ink. Up close, these works have an earthy, timeless quality, the rough, gessoed paper contrasting the geometry of the wooden tiles and their velvety smooth surfaces. They feel like studies in material and abstraction, enough to lose yourself in their seriousness before realizing what it is you’re looking at. These are not abstractions, after all, but images of strappy leather gear binding up invisible bodies of negative space. “Garter Harness / The Doors, Fan,” and “Back View / Venus of Somewhere in Germany” feel campy and playful. They are triple-framed in wood of various tones, as if to “triple down” on the seriousness of Rea’s craftsmanship.

“No Body” is a lot of fun, with its unexpected dualities of high and low, the vernacular and the refined, earnestness and absurdity. However, there is a palpable melancholy surrounding it all. The leather in Rea’s images is wrapped around empty space; the hats and glasses of Whittier’s castings reverberate with the energy of the body that had, at one time, worn them. The fact that there are no bodies here, consistent with the exhibition’s title, makes one wonder whether, in non-pandemic times, this absence would feel so acute as it does right now.

Casey Whittier, “Tractor Time,” 2022, cast glass scraps, 6 x 7 x 11 1/2”. Photo Credit: T. Maxwell Wagner

[marshmallowmalfoy]

Bumps and Bruises // Draco Malfoy

Type: Fluff X Slytherin Reader

A/N: Cardi B got me feeling bad ass but since I can’t fight anybody I can write it.

Summary: You’re being suspicious, constantly covered in bruises. Draco and Pansy decide to figure our whats going on.

Warnings: Physical and verbal fights. Swearing.

Lmk if you want a part 2?

Draco’s POV:

There she was again. There she was, bruised... again. I leaned back into my seat as she approached, her cheek bruised.

“Hey Malfoy.” She plopped down on the couch next to him, splaying her legs over mine. I raised an eyebrow.

“Where were you last night?” I gestured to her cheek. She just shook her head, chuckling a little.

“I ran into my dorm room door.” She rolled her eyes, “I’m an idiot.” She chuckled again as she tucked her hands into her pockets. Pansy came and joined us, Y/N lifted her head so Pansy could sit there, when she sat, Y/N rested her head back on Pansy’s legs.

“What happened Bubbles?” Pansy poked her cheek, using her nickname. She just laughed.

“I’m fine.” She cracked that charming Y/L/N smile. I couldn’t look away, but I also couldn’t help but worry. She constantly came into the common room after disappearing for hours on end in the evenings, lip cut or face bruised, always blaming it on your clumsiness. “I’m exhausted.” She spoke, raising from where she laid, “I’m gonna go sleep.” She stood up, placing a loving kiss on Pansy’s forehead and tussled my hair. I watched her leave the room, holding her side subtly.

“She’s lying.” Pansy said when Y/N was out of sight. “I know she is.” I nodded.

“I know.” I spoke softly. “But what can we do about it?” I laid back farther into the couch, staring up at the ceiling. There was silence for a moment.

“We could follow her.” The suggestion seemed preposterous and I told her so. But as she reasoned with me, telling me how she’s a friend and if she’s getting herself into trouble that we need to be there for her. I nodded, finally agreeing to her plan. Then we worked out the details.

Y/N’s POV:

I did what I did every night or so. I threw me gear into my school bag, and took off through the motionless hallways. My pace was fast, as though I was hurrying off to be somewhere I was late to. No one stops a girl in a hurry.

I get to the fireplace in the great hall. I scoop up a bit of floo powder from its hiding place between two stones in the fire place’s structure.

“Diagon Ally.” I exclaimed, throwing it to my feet. I appeared right where I needed to be.

I walked across the main alley, off into a back alley. Left, right, right left. I appeared in front of the back door to the illegal establishment, twisting my key and stepping through the door.

I could hear them all. It made my blood rush. Their shouts and cheers. I wrapped my hands, chalked them up, changed into my gear, and started warming up.

Pansy’s POV:

“The door is locked Draco!” I exclaimed as Malfoy tugged at the door Y/N had just disappeared into. “There has to be another way in.” I began walking around the oblong building. Just around the far corner was a large man standing before a ramshackle door. “Draco!” I hissed catching his attention. He walked over and peered around the corner too.

“Follow my lead.” He stepped out, and walked over shoulders back, chin high. He attempted to walk past the large man, but a hand was placed on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“No one underage can view.” The man’s voice was low, he removed his hand from Draco’s shoulder, stroking it down his long beard. Draco sighed, I watched carefully, stepping father behind Malfoy, the way the bouncer was eyeing me made me uncomfortable. The boy pulled a small sack out of his pocket, dangling it for the bouncer. The older man snatched it from him, examining what it contained. Galleons, no doubt. “I didn’t see you.” He grumbled, pushing the door open for us.

Past the door, the cheers and shouts erupted in my ears. Mens voices, chanting and hollering. Draco held my head as he pushed his way through the crowd.

“400 Galleons on Fire Cracker.” A man shouted at a man behind a tellers booth. There was a long list of names on the wall behind the man accepting money, though none of them sounded like birth names. I exchanged a glance with Draco, holding onto his arm.

“And now,” A bellowing voice came from across the room. Draco dragged me towards the voice. We encountered a fenced off pit before we saw the source of the voice. A well dressed, plump man with a top hat had his wand to his neck, amplifying his voice. “The Skull Crusher!” The man exclaimed, gesturing down into the ring, where a curtain parted, and a man stepped through. He was brutish, and his head was shaved down so close I questioned if he even had hair in the first place. He let out a battle cry as he turned around, showing off to all the men in the crowd. He must have been in his 30′s. His torso was bare, and he wore white pants that tightened around the calfs.

“Draco?” I caught his attention, “What is going on?” He looked at me concern and just shook his head. He was as clueless as I was.

“Up against,” The man announced, “Fiiireeeee Craaackkkkerrr!” He elongated the name. The other curtains parted and it was like the world was moving in slow motion. She had no shoes on, only wrapped in white cloth. She wore tight black shorts, and a sports bra. Her knuckles were wrapped in that same white cloth, and her hair was pulled back in french braids. She had a mouth guard in, and she looked angry as ever.

“Y/N.” I heard my best friends name fall out of Draco’s mouth as no more than a whisper. Any color he held in his skin had drained, and his eyes suddenly seemed sunken in his head. The man announcing exclaimed one word that made my heart hit the floor.

“Fight!”

Draco’s POV:

I watched her as she dodged the large man’s attack, using his body weight against him and shoving his into the wall with her shoulder, never taking her hands from their defensive position.

“You little cunt!” He shouted angrily, turning back to face her. She was bouncing on her toes, staying moving. She flashed him a mouth-guard clad smile. He circled around her, but she didn’t seem scared at all. She continued like this for a while, dodging out of the way and dancing around the brutish man. Fire cracker. Rang through my head. Why that name? I learned soon enough. The room went quiet when he got a solid hit on her jaw. Even he stopped when he realized what he had done. She touched her jaw, and it was so quiet everyone in the room heard her scoff.

“You fucked up.” She mumbled, still audible through the silence. The large man began backing up. She rolled her shoulders, walking towards the man, hands at her side. He took another swing at her, but she dodged to the side, grabbing his fisted hand, twisting it effortlessly in a way it shouldn’t go. The crowd started shouting again. He fell to his knees for a moment before trying to get out. He turned his back to her, and she ran up behind him, jumping up on the wall, pushing off it and wrapping her arms around his neck. From there, I watched in awe as she pulled a front flip, taking the large man with her.

He landed hard on his side and hurriedly tried crawling away as she dusted off her hands. She walked over him. She stood on his back, placing one foot on his neck, pinning him to the ground. She looked up at the announcer, who nodded at her. With that she walked out the way she came out.

“Come on.” I grabbed a horrified Pansy’s arm, and dragged her back to Hogwarts, to the Slytherin common room.

“I’ve heard of illegal dueling...” Pansy spoke, “But I’ve never head of anything like that.” She shook her head, trying to get the image out of her head.

Y/N’s POV:

I walked back towards the Slytherin dorms, happy at how significantly much more my bag weighed compared to on my way there. I get 30% of the galleons that people wager against me, and 10% of the galleons from the people that bet for me. I pushed into the Slytherin common room, it being nearly 2 in the morning, I was surprised to see Draco sitting awake and in silence as I walked in. Upon noticing my entrance, Draco shot up from his seat.

“Where have you been?” His voice was resinating with anger. I smiled.

“I fell asleep studying in the library.” I walked over to him, hoping the loose galleons in my bag weren’t jingling. His expression was pure anger. There was no other word to explain it. He cocked an eyebrow.

“What’s that then?” He went to touch my jaw. I flinched away.

“A book fell down... It hit me. It was my fault.” I shrugged, walking over to the fire, which blazed a beautiful green.

“Oh bullshit!” He shouted. I turned around, shocked by his reaction. He was looking at me sternly. His hands were dug into his suit pockets and the fire light flickered over his face. God. He’s beautiful. I thought to myself. No. Stop. He’s your best friend. 

“What?” I falsified a shocked look. My heart was pounding, worrying about what he knew.

“I know. Y/N. I. FUCKING. KNOW.” He shouted at me, taking steps towards me, pointing his finger at the ground with each word. I sighed, and sat down in a chair just by the fire. He came and sat in the chair across from me. I leaned back into my chair, and he leaned forward onto his elbows. “Why.” It wasn’t a question. I sighed and let my bag fall to the ground, it jingled.

“I’m pureblood Malfoy, just like you.” I leaned father back into my chair, “But not all pureblood families have as much money as yours does.” I stared into the fire, not bringing myself to look at him. “My father is gone. He left. My mother fell sick. She can’t work.” I choked down my pride and looked at him. “This is the fastest money I can make without disgracing myself. It disappears just as fast as I can send it. The healers are doing all they can but it’s galleons on galleons going into nothing. She’s not getting better Malfoy.” I tossed my bag at him, it slammed into his chest. He opened it and looked inside.

“Y/N.” He sighed, letting the messenger bag fall to the ground. “This isn’t the way t-”

“It’s the best way. It’s the only option I have!” I stood up, raising my voice. “There is nothing else I can do!” He stood up too, his face angry again.

“You are getting yourself hurt!” He shouted back at me. “I could have helped you!” Taking a step closer.

“And be in debt to the Malfoy’s until I die? No thanks!” I exclaimed back, “What do you care anyway!?”

“Because I fucking love you Y/N!” We both fell silent, realizing what just happened. There was only inches between us. My breath was shaky, my heart was fluttering and beating so quickly. He stared at me, waiting. I connected our lips.