#something incredibly powerful within you wants to give in fully to the temptation. because in the moment? the horror feels WORTH IT.

[eldritchamy]

The Invitation (2022)

No really I cannot stress enough how hot this scene was

[sinkix]

Haikyuu!!│Obsessive/Yandere HC’s │

Warning - Contains dark themes, mentions of emotional and physical abuse & sexually suggestive/explicit (18+) content, reader’s discretion is advised.

Characters - Hinata, Kuroo, Daichi, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Oikawa, Bokuto, Tendou & Kageyama.

Important Note: This is in no way romanticising or normalising toxic/abusive behaviour, you should not do as such as this is incredibly dangerous and unhealthy. If you identify any of these in your own relationships please seek help from a member of authority, counsellor or someone who can remove you from and aid in your recovery from the situation. This is a great contrast from all my other work on here so please read with caution. Stay safe <3

Hinata - The Hell-bent Visionary

Danger level: 6.5/10

So you’ve caught the eye of Karasuno’s ray of sunshine?

Bask in it’s warmth while you can, for the sun sets and leaves a chilling dark in it’s wake.

When he becomes focused on something, it’s hard to break the dedication he has. It’s unyielding, firm and persistent. Once you light a fire in him, it’s near impossible to put out.

And you didn’t just spark a flame, you formed a whole inferno.

Blowing up your phone with texts, calls and the tapping of rocks against your bedroom’s glass from late night visits to your doorstep. Greeted with the sickening scent of blood-red roses filling your nose at a reminder of how firmly he has you in his hold that will never falter. The lingering scratch marks adorning the window panes that you could have sworn were not there the night before.

 He can’t get enough of you, and the more time he spends with you, the more addictive your presence becomes.

He’s hooked, reaching the point of rivalling his sporting passion.

He learns to balance the two equally, and any second that isn’t spent practising, he is by your side or doing everything in his power to be.

It’s tunnel vision. All he sees is you, and the ball, nothing else matters. Relentlessly chasing for both long after his lungs tire and legs give out.

 He is a dark, unwavering force of nature, itching to monopolise you and eradicate any threat on what belongs to him. Yet around everyone else, he's a bundle of lovable sunshine who wouldn't dare hurt a fly, and while he doesn't show an outright aggressive nature, you know there's something sinister lurking underneath that might one day snap. 

It’s his stare that haunts you the most.

That ominous, chilling stare which pierces through your heart and impales it on a stick, out on display for him to marvel at in all it’s vulnerable beauty. The level of intensity and sheer devotion glinting in his eyes is nothing short of haunting.

Luckily for you, Hinata will not cause physical harm, but it’s his presence and ‘Jekyll & Hyde’ nature which will slowly but surely chip away at you until your sanity is reduced to dust. The worst part? Since he is loved by everyone, no one sees the twisted side you do, and as a result left permanently in a state of self-doubt and second guessing. Your mind will eventually spiral into a descent to madness until your right where he wants you.

Be careful, for even the sun’s light burns out eventually. And when it does, you’ll be swallowed by the darkness.

Kuroo - The Devil’s Reciprocal

Danger level: 9/10

Ahhh, the bad boy who smells of cigarettes and sex, the one who lurks in bars long after midnight eyeing up his prey. This man gives Satan a run for his money. I hope you’re prepared. What did you do to catch his eye, anyway? 

Whatever it was, it’s doomed you to an eternity in hell on earth.

Or heaven, if you’re a glass half full kind of person.

Kuroo drew you in like a moth to a flame, you knew he had no glinting halo, but that was his appeal.

 He was the incarnation of everything your parents warned you about, and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

Hell, you still can’t. But that doesn’t minimise the damage done to you every second he turns the light on, reeling you in once again, further and further until there’s no escape, utterly blinded by his deceiving tactics.

He has many admirers, you know. So in his eyes he feels you should be privileged to be given so much of his attention, that once received would leave any sane person running.

Unfortunately, you don’t seem to be sane enough, and he recognises this. He knows he’s got you hooked on his every word, dragging out the syllables like a lullaby that leave you entranced and begging for more.

 What can I say? The man has a way with words, and you’re totally enthralled by every sentence. 

Kuroo recklessly waves his charm like a gun, never a moment of hesitation to utilise it in order to get what he wants. 

And he always gets what he wants. 

It’s so dangerous it will leave you down on your knees in an act of submission and prepared to do anything to please him. The tip of the pistol aimed at your temple as if daring your defiance.

He revels in seeing that doe-eyed expression, fully aware of how much control he holds over every cell in your body. All of them scream out for him, for Kuroo. To kiss you, touch you and whisper sweet-nothings into your ear that linger with his hot breath scathing your neck, burning his scent into your memory until it’s one you’ll never forget. 

With all that temptation comes  consequence though, because once you give in, you’ll face the sadists horns that lurk underneath. 

Intertwining your bodies and tracing a switchblade across your jugular, he’ll stretch his lips into a wide, cunning grin, slamming into you and rutting his hips until they connect with yours. Throwing your head back in ecstasy, your whine will be stifled and cut short by the piercing slit of a blade shallowly opening the skin of your throat, the sharp sting lingering as his tongue deepens the incision with delight.

He is incredibly possessive, so anyone he deems a threat will be mercilessly eradicated, soon to be forgotten though. He will never allow your thoughts to be consumed by anything but him. 

Grinding his body against yours, the husky murmuring of pillow talk he is all too skilled at will leaves your knees trembling and buckling before him, with the one question he will only ever accept one answer to.

“Tell me sweetheart, who do you belong to...?”

Shuffling the cards and dragging cigar smoke across his lips, he’ll sip that glass of gin snidely and lock you in place with his smouldering gaze. Forever a reminder there’s no escape from his enslaving curse.

Daichi - The Despotic Protector

Danger level: 6/10

Karasuno’s father figure and reliable captain rolled into one. I hope you’re prepared for a lifetime of suffocation, because he’s never letting you go.

He takes on an almost a parental role in the relationship, and a toxic one.

Controlling, overbearing and monitoring your every move. He will never allow you to do anything without his permission out of fear for your safety.

I mean, what if something happens to you while you’re not within his peripherals? 

That’s a thought he simply couldn’t bear.

He’ll lock you in the confines of his home if he has to. But don’t get mad sweetheart, it’s because he cares for you.

Soon enough Daichi will have isolated you from the world, never seeing the shining of sunlight unless your arm is looped around his in a crushing hold. 

Friends? You can forget them, he made sure to steer you far, far away from those. He just can’t risk them laying a finger on you or putting you in harms way, he would never forgive them.

Daichi desperately tries to convince you he has your best interests at heart, and unluckily for you, you fall right into his trap.

Your whole life is consumed by him, and only him. Watching the clock tick by aimlessly until you hear his footsteps up the driveway, scurrying to the door to greet him like an obedient dog upon his arrival.

Pulling you into a loving hug that threatens to squeeze the life out of you, you can’t help but let your mind roam and ponder the question lurking at the back of your thoughts.

Has he ever killed with these hands?

They seem too crushing. Like a brute, inhuman force. You can picture his fingers wrapped around someone’s throat and draining them of oxygen almost too easily.

Little did you know, your hypothesis was painfully accurate. 

An old childhood friend of yours, currently 6 feet under in the yard. Your bare feet trampling over his grave and none the wiser every time he allows you to set foot in the garden.

You’ll never know, though. It’s not like you can check your phone without his permission anyway, he’s already blocked their contact.

Days, weeks, months pass by of his constant monitoring and controlling behaviour. The CCTV’s scattered in every corner of the house, the social deprivation and loneliness that creeps in every time he’s not there as you roam the barren household, the purple finger marks roping your wrists from when he kept you in a paralysing grip,daring your disobedience.

and you can’t help but wonder,

Maybe the person you needed protecting from was him.

Tsukishima - The Mendacious Manipulator

Danger level: 8.5/10

How unlucky you are to be paired with this mentally destroying sadist. 

At first Tsukishima’s wit, sarcasm and clever quips were what allured you, never did you think they would be used against you. Wielded like a weapon with a blade sharp enough to slice you in two.

And I’m warning you, every cut hurts.

There’s no escaping from it, a string of degrading remarks whispered cruelly in your ear while holding hands in public, appearing to be a cute and affectionate couple, but a sinister secret lurks underneath that only you know of.

He’ll treat you like a dog, expecting you to be at his every beck and call, serving on your knees with a painted smile that’s woefully forced on with every ounce of strength you have left.

You are his puppet, his useless little play thing that he makes painfully aware of how disposable they truly are.

And don’t take him for a fool, he will discard you if he sees fit.

Unmerciful, cruel, snide, are the some of many words that can describe Tsukishima, and as you’ll soon find out none of them are pleasant.

He will craftily make you open up to him. Revealing your deepest insecurities,traumas and troubles then sheath it like a sword to your neck, holding you hostage to your own weaknesses in order to gain that empowering sense of control he oh-so revels in. Endlessly striving to achieve his selfish, favourable outcome. 

This Yandere is one of most intelligent of the bunch, and unfortunately for you, does not use his intelligence for charitable or good-natured purposes.

He knows exactly what to say to leave you curled up in a ball, tears streaming and wracked in emotional agony as you plead for forgiveness on something that isn’t even your fault. He knows this, but finds it comical and all too amusing to see you so broken over something when you weren’t the one to blame. He gets off to your mental anguish.

You’ll be left stumbling the streets at 2 in the morning, contemplating your life and everything as you know it, he will warp your perception of the world until he is the only one you can crawl to. After all, it’s your fault, right? He’s the only one who could tolerate you, everyone else abandoned you because you were so insufferable.

...is what he’ll have you believe. In reality, Tsukishima was pulling strings behind the scenes to ensure you would distance yourself from friends and family, resulting in them doing the same. Wrapping you around his finger and twisting your behaviour into one that’s volatile and unapproachable, until you’re left totally alone.

You’ll never know though.

That mental fortitude will soon shatter, and when it does, he’ll cackle at it’s pathetic remains.

Yamaguchi  - The Diffident Vampire

Danger level: 5/10

I’m sad to say, but your tween Twilight fantasies will be crushed when you stumble upon this mess of a monster.

I don’t mean to say he’s a literal vampire, but you’ll understand the use of this metaphor once we delve into some of his tendencies.

He is incredibly insecure, the walking embodiment of the very word.

Now that isn’t the reason you should be warded off, everyone has self-esteem issues. However, this trait of his plays a huge part in siphoning the life out of you.

He captured your heart with his soft and sympathetic nature, easily startled and somewhat skittish.

You didn’t see what was below the iceberg however, and once you did, he sank his teeth in and began to suck before you could escape, draining you dry until you have no more left to give. Nothing to spare until he is licking his lips in satisfaction, swelled with the abundance at the emotional dependency he has built up on you.

He needs reassurance like a life line, and while some might find this endearing at first, it undoubtedly becomes highly toxic and emotionally exhausting.  

Yamaguchi is incredibly volatile with his sensitivity, you have to watch your words and be sure he doesn’t misinterpret them and become dejected. He will read into everything you say and question every little detail. 

This is one of those Yandere’s that wouldn't do it intentionally I don’t think, but by the time he catches himself it’s too late, he’s in far too deep to stop and I don’t think he ever will once he realises how addicted he is to you, your words boosting his sense of worth and being the only form of confidence he’s ever felt in his life.

It’s quite sad, really. 

Don’t pity him too much, though. That’s the trap. That’s how reels you in until the teeth marks adorning your neck are a harsh reminder that you are nothing more than food for his ego.

If you ever think about leaving, he will have no qualms grovelling at your knees, razor to his wrists and begging you to stay. A cruel memoire at what keeps you tied here in the first place.

Pity.

Care.

The mutual empathy you saw in him that drew you in was now broken and one-sided, his selfishness far outweighing this trait of his and becoming your death-sentence. 

The marks will never fade. One day you’ll collapse to your knees and cave, but he won’t stop until he has bled you bare.

Oikawa - The Venusian’s Nightmare.

Danger level: 8/10

Oh charming Oikawa. The pretty boy with enough carnal seduction to rival his greek goddess counterpart. Hair smooth as silk, eyes glinting with mischief and a smirk that could bow you down on all fours. He has everything, or so it seems.

Sanity isn’t one of them.

He is VERY demanding when he craves your attention, which let’s face it is pretty often. If he doesn’t get it? Definition of a nightmarish brat.

He will whine, complain, blow up your phone. Still not available?

He’ll simply disappear.

For how long? Who really knows. He likes the thought of you on edge and anticipating his return, thoughts of him plaguing your mind to the point you question if you’re the one who’s obsessed.

Don’t worry though, when he returns he has enough sensual suave to make you forgive him ten times over.

You may think his bratty and sulking nature is the worst of it.

Oh how wrong you are.

Push him to his limits or the closest thing to it and you’ll face a cut-throat, teasing sadist who will tie you to the bed with a sickening sparkle in his eyes, marvelling at your skin jaggedly sliced open like a sheet of paper, tracing the wounds with his tongue and lapping up the blood before pulling you into a heated kiss which seems almost loving, if it weren’t for the metallic taste intertwining your tongues as a harsh reminder that you’re not here by choice.

He is definitely the type to mock you and howl with laughter as your body spams and writhes in pain, degrading you with the most vile remarks till tears spill from your eyes.

“Awh poor (Y/N)-chan, crying like a baby. Can’t handle the pain? What a pathetic little whore. Maybe if you beg enough, I’ll ease up the pressure~”

Sometimes he’ll leave you there wrist-bound to the bed post for hours, coming back in occasionally until your level of pleading satisfies him. 

His change in treatment is paradoxical in the aftermath, he will release you from your restrains and rub your skin with such tender care, it’s agonisingly deceiving.

One of the most dangerous things about him is his intuition, it’s damn near supernatural and makes for a natural born lie detector. Oikawa will sense the slightest shift in your mood, tone and body language. He knows you like the back of his hand, making it all the more unnerving to be in his presence.

This can be a positive if he is looking to fill you with ecstasy, since he knows every sweet spot, curl of his fingers and words to whisper that leave you trembling in mind-numbing pleasure.

Though you know once coming down from your high, your moments of heaven will slip through your fingers before crashing back down to reality.

He can read you like a book that he wrote with his own hands and it’s horrifying, he can predict what you’re going to say or do before you’ve even made up your mind. Which as you can guess, makes escape or wheedling out of a threatening scenario a null alternative.

If you decide to make the suicidal mistake of lying, your body will never quite function the same once he’s through. not to mention the plethora of emotional scarring that comes along with it.

After catching you in your mendacity and deeming your punishment enough, he’ll decorate your body in cuts, bruises and hickeys that throb from the abuse of his teeth. Laying you down in bed and tucking you in gently, wrapping an arm around in an act of ‘protection’ that was formerly wrapped around your throat in an act of threatening asphyxiation.

Eyes fluttering closed hours after he drifted off beside you, your heart rate quells and the tears staining your cheeks dry, preparing for the repeated cycle when the sun rises. 

How foolish to be lured in by such a facade, even the most beautiful of creatures can be hideous. 

Bokuto -  The Volcanoes Slaughter

Danger level: 9.5/10

The ticking of a time bomb, the cracking of the ground beneath your feet.

Once you are swept up in this man’s wrath you know there will never be an escape.

and he’s fucking terrifying.

His energy and vigour were what charmed you, his upbeat enthusiasm that while volatile, was very contagious and encouraging. 

If only you had known what kind of disaster was laying low under the surface.

Akaashi had tried to warn you, but you simply never listened.

He pities you now, for you’re in the same boat as him.

Eternally putting up with his violent tempers and erratic nature, which you often get the brunt of behind closed doors, left to cover the scars with a scarf and cheap pot of concealer.

His moods switch as quick as the direction of the wind, a gust too strong that leaves you flying back like a ragdoll against the wall.

Or that may just be because he actually threw you in a fit of rage, itching to see your limp body crack against the drywall to soothe his rage. Drowning the voices in his head with the sound of your soothing whimpers filled with agony.

While he may beat you black and blue whenever the overflow of emotions take over, he still does ‘care’ for you in his own sickening way, and would never have any qualms snapping a neck or two if it prevented anyone else laying a finger on you.

Though to be honest it’s the furthest thing from care, it’s downright monopolisation of something he deems his object.

How dare they hurt his personal punching bag, don’t they know you’re his and his alone to mark up in any way he pleases?

To everyone else, he seems like a very loving and protective boyfriend who has the occasional mood swing. If only they could pick up on the flinching of your body when his voice raises even a decibel, or the way you retract in fear at the swatting of a hand too close to your face. 

The anxiety felt when in his presence is indescribable, your whole body will soon become accustomed to trembling in fear, your fight or flight kicking in at the mere mention of his name. His voice sends every hair standing on end, bracing for the impact that may or may never come from his grazed fists.

Treading on eggshells and analysing every word before you speak will become second nature, even the tone of your voice or the way you arrange a question will be heavily thought over before even daring to let it escape your mouth.

You just can’t risk it, even hearing a word he doesn’t like will result in the tectonic plates shifting, getting closer to his impending eruption.

Once you hear the rumbling, you’ll know it’s far too late to run. Burned by the raging lava and consumed whole in a flood of pain and misery, it will destroy everything in it’s wake, even you.

Tendou - The Jesters Despair

Danger level: 10/10

You really opened pandora’s box with this one.

And once you so much as cracked it for a peak, just that little inkling of curiosity, the lanky arm of a redhead yanked your wrist and dragged you in with him.

Tendou’s eccentric and offbeat disposition was something you had always admired, it was what made your heart flutter.

Now? That eccentricity is put to the most horrifying of uses.

Mind games, manipulation, and unpredictability beyond your worst nightmare.

Tendou is the type to sink a blade into your skin and cackle maniacally while you cry and plead for him to stop. Edging himself and eyeing you up greedily at the painful fear in your eyes, blood trickling down your skin with each incision.

He’ll pull your hair back and slide his tongue along the cuts, his lustful gaze boring into your own as the pooling saliva leaves a chilling feeling on your skin, nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought of his DNA entering your bloodstream.

He thrives on trickery and deception. He’s the type to say something incredibly warm and soft-centred, one that makes your pupils expand in newfound hope with the question of “...really?” rolling off your tongue. That inkling of hope sparking the thought that maybe, just maybe he’s changed. 

Only to burst into a fit of laughter at your naivety, teasing you relentlessly for how gullible and moronic he thinks you are. 

This yandere is incredibly incalculable. Here one minute, gone the next. Don’t even bother trying to figure out what he’s doing or where he is, you’ll never know. It keeps you on your toes in the most negative and unnerving sense of the expression, he gets a buzz off leaving you wondering, and takes great satisfaction in knowing you’re probably thinking about him.

 However, he expects you to be there whenever he needs you, regardless of circumstance. And if you’re not? You’ll have consequences to face.

I’m sorry to say, but there is no chance in hell you’re surviving this experience, there’s no doubt you’ll be murdered eventually. 

After all, he does get bored easily. Not so much as giving it a second thought on disposing of you once you are no longer a source of fresh entertainment for his sadistic desires.

With each passing day his treatment becomes increasingly brutal, searching for new ways to fulfil that empty feeling in his heart and cold, hollow look in his eyes. Don’t even bother trying to save him, not even he would know where to start.

Every night as you shut your eyes on the hardwood floor beside his bed, you can’t help but wonder if this is the last time you’ll ever close them.

And for your sake? You’d better hope it is.

Charming you with the humour of a Jester and putting on a show, he’ll make it certain every time you laugh, will be paid back with tears twofold. 

Kageyama - The Majesties Tyrant

Danger level: 7/10

Kneel before your highness or face his wrath. Kageyama Tobio is the most commanding of them all. Permanently trapped in his dictatorship with no hope of revolt. 

He doesn’t become set on things very often, but once he does it’s something he’ll never give up until he’s conquered it wholly.

Stubborn, moody, domineering and demanding. With just enough of a soft side he uses to persuade you back again. 

Fuelled by ego, pride, and a sense of superiority, he will never stop until he has your total obedience.

Being the dense man he is, this is usually achieved through simplistic means of intimidation and threats of aggression.

Kageyama will not hesitate to raise his fist and back you into a corner, cowering in recoil at his menacing aura that itches to do damage

You will do what he says, whenever he needs it, no if’s but’s or objections.

For such a hard headed ruler, he’s surprisingly childish and unsure about how to express anything other than abuse.

I think a part of him genuinely does like you, but it’s far too clouded by his toxic nature that it could never be seen as even slightly redeemable.

The most you’ll ever get out of Kageyama is the occasional hug, in which he squeezes you far to tight and resurfaces the pain of last nights bruises.

He doesn’t resort to physical violence often, as he is always reprimanded by the team to control his anger. If only they knew what he was like behind closed doors. I suppose you could credit it to Karasuno that he hasn’t accidentally killed you yet.

Yet.

When it comes to matters in the bedroom, he is focused solely on his own gratification, yours being a second thought he never so much as acknowledges.

Collared and threaded by  chain, you will crawl beside him and take it all until you’re gasping for air. The only thing he cares about is climaxing and leaving you with the cleanup.

He’s quite self conscious, so don’t expect much physical affection unless he’s chasing a particularly intense release.

Kageyama is highly jealous and frequently painted green with envy, so expect your social life to dwindle significantly once he has his hands on you, literally and metaphorically.

Thankfully, he won’t isolate you entirely, but it’s enough to leave you feeling segregated from the rest of the world. A lone member of his regime that you are forever trapped in with no chance of escape.

Bow down with a meek mutter of “Yes...master.” His crown will twinkle in the moonlight as a symbol of your everlasting enslavement.

The king of the court, and the ruler of your heart.

[ofendlesswonder]

Congratulations on the impending release! That's so exciting. Also so excited to see you're taking prompts - 27, if you're so inspired!

27. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

Cat thinks she’s dreaming, when she sees a cape flutter outside her balcony. 

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time she’d dreamt of red and blue and a sunny smile. Probably wouldn’t even be the hundredth, if she counts her daydreams, the one allowance she’d made, for when the itch under her skin, the desire to reach out and touch had almost become too much to bear. 

Had become too much to bear, in the end. Had sent her fleeing across the country to another coast entirely, separating herself from any temptations, from blue, blue eyes and the traitorous voice in the back of her head wondering would it really be so bad, if you told her? 

Yes, she’d always answered. Yes, because I can’t ruin her, too. 

Not like she had every other relationship she’s ever had. Couldn’t bear to see the light in her eyes dim, for her to become bitter and jaded, and look at Cat like she despised her. 

That’s something she knew she’d never be able to handle, no matter how many times Kara had pressed close beside her on the couch, staying long after her work hours had ended. No matter how often she’d looked at Cat like she held the world in her hands, her gaze had lingering when Cat had dared to undo an extra button, knowing she was playing a dangerous game. 

The cape flutters again, propelling Cat out of bed, feet sinking into the plush carpet of her bedroom. Her new home isn’t quite as nice as the penthouse she’d left behind in National City, but it’s a decent replacement, she thinks. Carter had taken some convincing, but she knows D.C. has grown on him. 

“Aren’t you a little far from home?” She asks the superhero slouched over her balcony railing, pushing open the doors with the palm of her hand. 

Kara doesn’t move, and Cat thinks something must be deeply wrong. Why else would she be here, after so long? Why else, after years of silence stretched thin, would she have come to her? 

“What’s wrong?” She asks, a silence of a different kind pressing into her ears. This high, the city traffic is quiet, the low hum of the people milling on the sidewalks below snatched away by the wind. 

Cat grabs her robe off the back of the chair by the door, steps into stupidly fuzzy slippers Carter had bought her last Christmas. The ones she will never, ever publicly admit to owning, but that she adores slipping on at the end of a long day, and joins Kara on the balcony. 

She doesn’t move, remains still and silent, and Cat wonders if she’s finally gone mad. If something in her has cracked, and she’s conjured an image of Kara, a ghostly mirage that will disappear as soon as she’s within arms’ reach. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” she says, when Cat steps close, in a voice suggesting the opposite is true. “Not really.”

“And yet here you are, on my balcony in the middle of the night, for...what? An interview? A catch up? How long has it been, Kara? Four years?”

She doesn’t react to her name, and Cat thinks that might be the most worrying thing of all. A secret she’d guarded so closely, so fiercely, terrified of Cat finding out the truth, and now she doesn’t care? Doesn’t acknowledge it, even? 

No, this isn’t the Kara she knows. 

But then, it’s been years since Cat last touched her life. 

Years, for her to grow and change. 

Years, where Cat didn’t know her at all, aside from brief glimpses of news footage, from the articles she’d read, written by Kara’s hand. 

The woman standing before her may as well be a stranger. 

One she has no idea how to help. 

“You were always...like a port in a storm. A safe space to land, a voice of reason when I needed it. You were never afraid of telling me the truth, even if it was painful to hear, and you always knew exactly the right thing to say. And I think I need that, now, because I...I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” 

She doesn’t look at Cat when she talks, her jaw clenched tight, her fingers wrapped around the bar of Cat’s balcony railing, leaving indents in the metal. 

It’s then Cat notices the blood. It’s caked under her nails, smeared across her knuckles, and Cat’s gaze darts over her body, searching for other signs of damage. 

Maybe it’s not hers. 

Maybe that’s why, when she turns to face Cat, her eyes are dark and haunted, so lost within herself Cat struggles to find a trace of the woman she once knew so well staring back at her. 

“Feel what way?” Cat asks, and her voice is hoarse, because, different though she may be, it’s still Kara looking at her for the first time in years, and Cat had known it was naive, moving away to run from her ever-growing feelings, known it was unlikely to work, but it’s only now, four years down the line and feeling like not a single day has passed, that she realises just how naive. 

Can Kara hear the uptick in her heartbeat, as their eyes meet? Has she heard it before? Does she have any idea, how a single glance from her can knock Cat breathless? 

“Like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.” Her eyes close, and Cat lets her gaze settle on her face, how though she is physically unchanged—something about those Kryptonian genes, she suspects—she looks so much older. 

Weary. 

Defeated. 

“I can’t...I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to. The world needs a hero, but that isn’t me.” She shakes her head so violently she lurches to the side, and Cat steadies her—futile though the gesture may be—with a hand on her elbow, her suit rough beneath her fingertips. “I’m not a leader. I’m not...I’m not cut out for this.” 

Cat casts her mind back, tries to remember any mention of Supergirl in the news, recently, that might make her feel this way. Smear campaigns against superheroes are nothing new—Cat could almost understand it, because who was going to stop them if they decided this whole being good thing just wasn’t for them?

But not Kara. Never Kara—red Kryptonite aside. 

“They deserve better than me.” She sags when she says it, falling into Cat so suddenly she barely manages to catch her, face pressed into the side of Cat’s neck, and her tears hot on her skin. 

“You are the strongest person I know,” Cat says, cheek pressing against Kara’s head, a hand settling at the small of her back, nothing but certainty in her voice, in her gentle grip. “The strongest person I’ve ever met, in fact—and let me tell you, Kara, I have met a lot of people. None of them could hold a candle to you.” 

She sobs harder, and Cat breaks, because what is it that’s brought this beautiful, selfless woman to her knees? 

“There is no one better than you,” she continues, because she thinks these are words Kara desperately needs to hear. “But you’re right about one thing—they don’t deserve you. And no one is entitled to you. What you do, Kara, putting yourself on the line, day after day, forfeiting your rights to a normal life, risking losing it all every time you charge into battle—that’s incredible. But it’s not sustainable. You keep doing it, and sooner or later, something’s going to break.”

If she’s being honest with herself, Cat is surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. Just goes to show, then, how strong she really is. 

“You’ve endured so much. So much pain, so much loss.” The likes of which Cat can’t possibly comprehend, the likes of which she will never even fully know. “It’s okay to have days where you can barely even drag yourself out of the bed in the morning. Hell, I feel like that at least once a month, and I don’t have to cope with anything like you do.” Cat doesn’t know what she’d do, if their situations were reversed. Doesn’t know if she’d be able to cope. “Kara, what...what happened?”

Something triggered this. Something to send Kara flying a thousand miles across the country, to seek out the embrace of a woman she hasn’t spoken to in years. The why, Cat thinks she understands, now. Certainly, there have been a dozen other conversations on a balcony just like this one, though the view had been a little different. And Kara had been different, too, buoyed with the feeling of something new and exciting, invincibility in its most naive form, drawing strength from Cat’s imparted wisdom, which she’d never been truly qualified to give. 

She definitely doesn’t feel qualified to deal with this, with Kara breaking in her arms. Doesn’t know what to say to make her feel better, not without all of the pieces of the story. 

“There was a fight,” she says, and she doesn’t lift her head, the words muffled against the silk of Cat’s robe. “Nothing special. No really. But he...he was strong, and he tossed a car at me, and I...I pushed it off. Didn’t look where, until...until I heard a scream.” 

Kara shifts, leans away, like she thinks Cat is about to be repulsed by her, swipes at damp cheeks with a bloodied sleeve. 

“I didn’t notice her.” Kara’s bottom lip wobbles, and Cat has never seen someone look so broken. “I didn’t know she was there, but she...it crushed her.” She clenches her jaw, clenches her fists, like she can change the story by sheer force of will alone. “She’s six years old, and she’ll never walk away.”

“Kara…”

“Don’t,” she says, so viciously Cat flinches. “If you’re about to tell me it’s not my fault, don’t. Because it is. I did that to her, not him.”

“You can’t save them all.”

“She wasn’t even in any danger though, was she?” Kara’s laugh is bitter, and not one Cat has ever heard come from her lips before. “That’s the irony of it. If I’d never been there, she’d have been fine.”

“But someone else might not have been.” 

Kara scoffs, takes a step back, and for one horrifying moment, Cat thinks she’s going to launch over the balcony and flee, leave her standing out here with an ache in her heart. 

“No one ever talks about the collateral damage,” she says, eyes focused on the horizon. “How many people’s lives have been ruined, because of me? How many buildings destroyed, how many people in hospital?”

“And how many people would be dead, if you’d never started using your powers, hm?” Cat has her counterattack ready, can’t let Kara keep going down this rabbit hole. “Thousands, I’d wager. Or the whole world, perhaps. You stopped Myriad, you stopped an alien invasion. And they’re just the ones I know about.” She steps closer, wraps her fingers around Kara’s wrist, squeezes hard so she feels it. “You will carry this in your heart for a long time, Kara, there’s no way around that. It will hurt, and it will ache, and it will make you not want to carry on, but it doesn’t erase all of the good you’ve done. All the lives you’ve touched, the people you’ve saved.”

“How can you look at me like that, knowing I’m a monster?”

“You are so many things, Kara, but monster isn’t one of them. You’ve made a mistake—a grave one—but it was an accident, and you give up because of it. What you do, is you put on the suit, and you grit your teeth, and you vow to do better next time. You carry on. You persevere.” 

“How?” She asks, and her voice breaks over the word, over the plea, and Cat clenches her jaw so she doesn’t cry, because she knows that is the opposite of what Kara needs right now. 

She came here because she needs someone to be strong for her, because she needs someone to tell her it’s going to be okay—and mean it. 

“Only you can come up with the answer to that,” Cat says, and she wraps her fingers a little tighter around Kara’s wrist. “But I think a good start is, perhaps, a shower. Wash away the bad.” Wash away the blood, staining Kara’s skin. “Come inside.”

Kara digs in her heels. “I-I don’t...you don’t have to do that. I should go.”

“I don’t want you going anywhere like this.” Not on her own, not where there’s no one to keep an eye on her. “Please, Kara. Let me help you. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Why you came here?”

She nods, jerky and quick, and lets Cat pull her into her bedroom, all the fight seeping out of her. 

“Wait here.” She leaves her hovering by the end of Cat’s bed, arms wrapped around her torso, and steps into her en-suite. 

She turns on the shower, sets it to scalding, and waits until the room is full of steam, until the ends of her hair begins to curl. 

When she returns to her bedroom and finds Kara stripped from her suit, she nearly has a heart attack. 

“I didn’t want to wear it anymore,” she says, and she’s shivering but Cat doesn’t think it’s from the cold. 

“I’ll find you something clean to wear.” Something not stained with dirt and regret. She digs out an old, worn Harvard T-shirt and some shorts, passes them over to Kara and politely averts her gaze as she does so before prodding her toward the bathroom. “Take as much time as you need.”

She folds the suit while she waits, puts it carefully on the chair by the balcony door along with her boots. When it starts buzzing, she jumps, worried she’s inadvertently pressed a button she shouldn’t have. Has she activated a GPS tracker? Self-destruct? Were a team of shady government agents on their way to her apartment to cart her off to a black site? 

Thank God Carter is spending the night at his friends house. She has no idea how she’d explain any of this to him. 

The buzzing doesn’t stop, so she ventures closer, finds a pocket and a phone with nearly thirty missed calls, and a dozen more texts. 

Alex is a name she recognises, but Nia and Brainy are not. Another reminder things have changed, she thinks, setting the phone down on her vanity for when Kara re-emerges. Clearly, she hasn’t told anyone where she is. 

“Thank you,” Kara says, when she opens the bathroom door, a cloud of steam enveloping her. On Cat, the shirt is baggy, but it clings to Kara, highlighting the muscle and strength hidden beneath her lithe frame, and Cat chastises herself for staring. 

Not what she needs right now. 

If Cat had ever had her doubts about Supergirl’s identity, if Kara had tried to argue when Cat had named her earlier, it would have soon come crashing down. Because now, standing in borrowed clothes, damp hair curling around her shoulders, hunched in on herself, the woman staring back at her was entirely Kara Danvers. 

Cat can’t believe she’d ever doubted it. 

“Kara, does anyone know you’re here?” She asks, makes sure her voice is gentle, and not condescending. The last thing she needs is her feeling attacked. 

“Like they’d understand,” she says, voice soft, and that’s true, Cat thinks, because she finds it hard to understand herself. “I don’t want them to.”

“At least let someone know you’re safe? Your sister, perhaps? It’s either that, or toss your phone out of the window.” As if on cue, it begins to vibrate again. “She’s calling for the hundredth time.”

Kara sighs, but takes the call, resignation on her face as she lifts it to her ear. “Alex. I’m fine.” 

A lie, Cat knows from one look at her face. She wonders if her sister can tell, too. 

“I just needed some space,” Kara says then, and Cat wonders where her sister might think she is. “I’m somewhere safe.” She casts a glance toward Cat, whose heart thuds at the thought that Kara thinks of her as a safe space. Somewhere to land, when she feels like her whole world is falling apart. 

Cat wonders when she’d earned the honor. 

“I don’t know. Tomorrow, probably. I don’t want to fucking debrief, Alex.” It explodes out of her, so sudden it takes Cat by surprise, her back ramrod straight and her fingers holding the phone so tight it’s a wonder the plastic doesn’t crack. “You saw what happened. Don’t make me relive it.” 

Cat crosses the room without thinking, pressing a hand to the small of Kara’s back. The effect is instantaneous, body relaxing beneath Cat’s fingertips, tension leaching out of her with every breath. 

This close, Cat can hear Alex’s voice on the other end of the line, tight with worry. “Come home, Kara.”

“Not yet,” she says, her voice shaky. “I...I can’t yet.” She hangs up before Alex can argue, and Cat pretends not to notice her turn the phone off before tossing it onto the chair with her suit. She’d done what Cat asked—and she doesn’t think she wants the sister knowing her apartment is the place Kara chose to land. 

Somehow, she doesn’t think that’ll go over well. 

“You can stay here tonight, if you want.” Even if she felt about Kara the way she was supposed to—appropriately, for a woman double her age, and a former boss to boot—she wouldn’t have been able to turf her out when she looks so dejected. “You can stay as long as you want, even. If you want a place to hide away from the rest of the world, consider this your sanctuary.” 

“Beside the Queen of all Media.”

“There’s a moniker I haven’t heard in a long time.” 

“Do you have a new one? Or is it just Press Secretary, now?” 

“Doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, does it?” If this is what Kara needs, idle small talk in the middle of Cat’s bedroom at a stupid hour in the morning, well. 

Cat has never been able to deny her. 

“It suits you, though.”

“And reporter suits you, Pulitzer Prize winner.” The flush that stains Kara’s cheeks is expected, but it makes Cat chuckle all the same. “You’ve been doing good work. I knew you had it in you.” 

“You always saw the best in me.”

“You say that like it’s difficult to.” Seeing the best in Kara is one of the easiest things Cat has ever done. She’d seen something special in her that first fateful meeting—she’d just no idea how special. How this meek, bespectacled woman with the hideous fashion sense would tip her life on its head. “You should get some rest,” she says, when Kara yawns. “You’ve had a...difficult day.” Something of an understatement. “You can stay in here.” 

Kara shakes her head. “I’m not kicking you out of bed, Cat.”

“You’re not—I’m offering it to you.”

“I can take the guest room.”

“There is no guest room.” Cat’s smile is wry when Kara frowns. “Not like I get a lot of visitors. It was three bedrooms, but I turned the third into an office.” 

“The couch, then.”

Cat stops her with a hand on her arm when she makes for the door. “Stay here, Kara. It’s fine.” 

“Will you...will you stay with me, then?” She asks, in a voice so small Cat feels like her heart is being squeezed in a vice. 

“I…” Is there a polite way to say no? To say I can’t think of a more terrible, masochistic idea than that without breaking the poor girl’s spirit? 

“Please? I...I don’t want to be alone.” It’s the sheen of tears in her eyes that does it, the wobble of her lip, the desperation in her voice, and Cat tells herself that it’s not specifically her that Kara wants. It’s the comfort, it’s the presence of another warm body, to ward off the chill of loneliness. 

And yet, it was her that Kara had sought out. 

And that has to mean something, even if it’s not what she so desperately wants to be. 

“Okay, I’ll stay,” she says, knowing the memory of Kara wrapped up in her sheets will linger long after they’ve been washed, but knowing, also, that it’s worth it, for the way her face lights up when Cat pulls back the covers and climbs inside. 

She has to be up in four hours, she thinks, wincing when she glances at the clock. 

Worth it, she thinks, as Kara slips in beside her. Worth it, when she turns to Cat in the dark, and presses into her side, face in the crook of her neck, and tears once again damp on her skin. 

Cat holds her, and she doesn’t sleep a wink, even when Kara’s breathing deepens, hot against her skin, fingers twitching where they’re gripping at Cat’s robe, still wrapped around her shoulders. 

Cat holds her, and thinks they might not talk about it tomorrow—Kara might, perhaps, wake up mortified in her former boss’ bed, the light of morning bringing with it a sense of clarity that maybe the decision to come here was wrong. Kara might, perhaps, flee without saying goodbye, and Cat may never see her again.

And Cat would accept that decision without question, because for her, this is enough.Stitching the broken parts of Kara back together, being here for her, offering her the comfort she so desperately needed, means more to her than anything else ever could.

[project-ohagi]

Giyuu Tomioka x Reader {Kimetsu No Yaiba} - Omegaverse AU

An unclaimed Omega should have captured both the romantic attention and primal arousal of many an Alpha, right?

Then…why was Giyuu so hopelessly alone? Sure, he was more powerful, and perhaps a little more domineering than a typical Omega, but this was necessary for his job! Every day, his mind and heart were locked in a constant battle - the latter yearned to live a quiet, domestic life, submissively complying to all of his Alpha's demands. The former reminded him that this simply wasn’t possible, given the torturous, demon-infested world; that serenity could be shattered without warning, at any moment. But, still…he wanted it. He wished to be rammed into so violently that stars would glitter around his vision, and then to be showered with gentle aftercare. He desired the infinite pleasure, but also the pain. He wished to be mated, to bear children for his Alpha.

…Was this all just a pipe dream? Could he ever be truly loved, marked and mated?

"(L/n)!" Somebody called your name, and although the sound was distant, echoey, it caused his very bones to shudder.

That feeling - it was one he could experience for an eternity, and never tire of. Month on month, it plagued him, until he fully comprehended what his heart was begging for. His Omega instincts were hounding him to show subordination towards you, to prove his loyalty (herein, he remembered that in fact, a number of proposals had been made, but he had rejected them all, hopeful to win you over - he suffered through his excruciating heats alone, never relinquishing his body to the temptation. He would remain chaste, until the day you finally decided to claim him). Atop this, he boasted only twenty-one years, leaving him with virtually no sexual prowess. He wasn’t sure if this would appeal to you, or whether it was a turn-off, but it meant that he was still extremely fertile, and you could exploit the breeding ground of his womb as much as you pleased.

If you could enjoy his body, and bless him with two or more beautiful, healthy pups, then perhaps bliss would rain down on his life, and the chains of guilt (which had slithered around his wrists at the moment of his first love's death) would at last release their hold. Of course, he certainly didn’t view you as a replacement. He just carried that dreadful guilt on his shoulders, always, and coupled with these fierce, romantic inclinations, they were becoming far too much to handle. If he could relax into your warm, comforting embrace, curl up next to your sleeping figure and observe the rise-and-fall of your chest, until dawn rose…

On second thought, maybe that was a little creepy.

Creepy! Was this the general consensus, regarding the poor, little Omega? You did forever manage to distance yourself, and Shinobu had once mentioned people's distaste towards him (although, she summoned all the authority of a Beta, so…not very much. Her point was probably, hopefully, moot). Giyuu's frantic heart wouldn’t allow the belief that you despised him, or that another Omega had arrested your affections. Another Omega…someone like Obanai, or Mitsuri.

Someone with superior social skills.

Neither was acceptable, and he began to sense blossoming hostilities within his soul, whenever he noticed someone else engaging you in conversation. One question never failed to penetrate the darkest corners of his mind: why couldn’t that be him, laughing gleefully alongside you, flirting with you, earning your unyielding attention? He must have spent an ungodly amount of time lamenting over this, because soon enough, the moon was eclipsing any last traces of daylight, and a new mission had been announced. The expression gracing his ethereal complexion was quite concerning, like a mixture of confusion and anger. You tapped his shoulder, not particularly wishing to break his trance. However, this was a joint job, requiring rather a lot of concentration.

To save from stuttering, and in the process, utterly embarrassing and planting himself beyond the point of redemption, he simply nodded, to acknowledge your presence. When a bright smile swept across your lips, his heart beat violently against its bone prison.

"I guess we're working on this one together, Tomioka." You extended a hand, but he neglected to shake it (to be fair, he had been trembling with both excitement and anxiety, so his palms were horrendously sweaty - he couldn’t contaminate your perfect skin with his germs!).

Death started to coil around his heart at your words, specifically "we're" and "together". For some reason, they sounded so intimate to his fragile ears, with a hint of longing thrown in for good measure. Although…this could have simply been wishful thinking. The two of you ambled towards your destination, an awkward silence following closely behind. The poor Omega's mind had automatically reset when you bestowed the gentlest of touches upon his unworthy person, erasing all the questions and dialogue starters he had so carefully crafted. He cursed such incompetence. In your presence, his only consideration was your heart, and more importantly, how to win it over.

Everything else faded into obscurity, as he watched how you glided so gracefully around the battlefield, owning it completely, and giving Giyuu very little chance to prove his own worth. He had to contribute something meaningful to this fight, or you would surely imagine him a weak, standoffish Omega, for the remainder of his miserable existence - one whom you would rather die before marking. Gritting his teeth, he charged a demon, slicing off its head effortlessly, never glancing back, but hoping beyond hope that you had taken notice of his skills.

The minute your voice manifested a commanding tone, Giyuu had to restrain himself, had to fight the urge to drop down on to his knees before you. A tight, uncomfortable warmth was spreading throughout his entire body, crawling evermore towards his nether regions.

These urges…these primal instincts…they were so, so incredibly hard to control.

The air seemed to swirl with colours and fragrances, almost as if a battle for dominance, or territory, was ensuing, rather than a general Demon Slayer vs Demon fight-to-the-death. Were they feuding over an Omega? But…who? And…why? Giyuu's little heart skipped a few beats, as he envisioned you protecting and breeding another Omega. Subconsciously, a whimper escaped his lips. Your head turned, eyes widening in half-fury, half-adoration. The smell of an Omega's heat was beginning to ripple in the air.

"Breath of the Shadow, Sixth Form: Shadows In The Dusk!"

Giyuu's tired eyes fluttered shut.

I wonder, will you still be by my side when I wake?

[saventhhaven]

You Bring Out the Worst in Me

Pairing: demon!Dean x demon!reader

Tags: demon!Dean, demon!reader, sexual innuendos, suuuuuper dark and sexy

Word Count: 1,800 O_o (I didn’t think it was that long lmao)

A/N: This was a request from anonymous! 

Hi there! I really love your fics. Could you do a Dean x secret demon! Reader. Sorta based off the song How You Remind Me by Nickelback? Thanks!

This one was honestly so much fun to write. The dark vibe is unlike anything I’ve written before, so you’ll have to tell me what you thought! Thanks for requesting!

(Gif not mine)

Being a demon didn't come with many difficulties. In fact, it was the complete opposite. Your lifestyle was one you were sure others envied. After all, it was literally your job to give in to temptation and wreak havoc on the world whenever possible. You could do practically whatever you wanted - granted that you didn't interfere with Crowley's plans, which you never had. As a result, you had become one of his most trusted and loyal servants over the years. If Crowley needed something done, you were his go-to. You specialized in dirty work. But several years ago now, he had tasked you with your most significant assignment yet. With his off and on alliance with the Winchesters, it was important that he always knew what they were planning.

"The best way for us to do that," Crowley had told you, "is for me to send one of my most committed to be in their presence at all times. Someone to live with them. Befriend them. Gain their trust." The drumming of his fingers on the throne came to a stop as he turned his gaze on you. "I mean you, my dear Y/N." You bowed your head in a sign of both respect and submission.

"Of course, my King. I am honored to have been chosen for this task." Crowley gave you a small, genuine smile, something exceedingly rare.

"There is no one in all of Hell that I trust more than you, Y/N."

"Nor I, you, Sire. I would do anything you asked of me." Crowley nodded as he stood, walking to pour himself a drink.

"I'm aware," he said over his shoulder. "Which is why I wouldn't want anyone else to do this for me."

"For how long do you require me to report back my findings?" you questioned.

"Keeping you among the Winchesters could prove to be a most valuable asset. You will remain there for as long as necessary." Clasping your hands behind you, you pushed your shoulders back in determination.

"Then, I will become their most trusted confidant for as long as you see fit. If they so much as breathe in a manner of suspicion, you will know within a second." Crowley put his glass down, the sound echoing throughout the otherwise empty throne room.

"You've been a most loyal servant, Y/N."

"Thank you, my King." He fell silent, examining you for a moment before turning away.

"If you should fail on your endeavor, you won't be coming back." You frowned again, not attempting to hide it this time. He had never spoken of failure with you before.

"Sire?"

"The Winchesters will not take kindly to being spied on or lied to by one of our kind. If discovered, I doubt you will make it out alive." You regained your composure, a newfound resolve resetting your face into a blank slate.

"I will not fail you."

"Then you may take your leave," Crowley instructed. "You've much to prepare for if you're to play the part of a human hunter convincingly."

Since that day, any news or information you had to offer went through a messenger demon. It was too risky to speak to Crowley in person now. Anything that could raise even the slightest bit of suspicion had to be avoided. The boys had been betrayed more than once before, you knew that. As a result, gaining their trust had proven to be exceedingly difficult, although, you had been expecting that. After several weeks of helping them on cases, though, you were in. They began opening up to you, treating you as one of their own, until finally, they offered you a room back at their bunker. The whole process had been tiring, no doubt, and after befriending you, it had still taken a few months for them to suggest that you stay with them, but you knew the wait was worth it. The future results were going to be fruitful. Even on a near-impossible assignment, you still had yet to fail your King. He had asked you to gain their trust, and that was exactly what you had done. Especially Dean's. What you had with him was incredibly complicated, and you knew a relationship with a hunter was frowned upon by your brothers and sisters, but it had been a much easier path to get him to open up. The poor man had some serious feelings for you, and you supposed in your own sort of twisted way, you reciprocated those feelings. Although, you knew you were probably feeling things that weren't real. You were just biased because of all the sex. Dean's feelings, however, couldn't be faked if he tried. You had your suspicions that he may have even been in love with you. And that made him vulnerable; a vulnerability that you had every intention of using towards your advantage. You knew from the start that Dean would be much less likely to believe your fictional backstory and place his trust in you than his younger brother. But this? This made it easy. You had spent many hours fabricating your sad tale of why you became a hunter and even longer solidifying the details to make it all seem real. In short, your father and older brother had been killed by a malevolent spirit. Your mother had gone on a grief-driven rampage and practically gone crazy in the process of searching for ways to kill the thing. Eventually, she lost her last shred of sanity, and the same spirit killed her too. But in the seven years before her death, your mother had raised you like a hunter. By the age of ten, you knew how to fire a shotgun and perform a full exorcism. In Hell, you had heard the name John Winchester many times. He had been notorious for seeking out the demon Azazel that killed his wife. With that kind of grief to haunt him, you could only imagine how he must have raised the boys, which is why the part of your story how you were raised as a hunter seemed to be the perfect touch to fully get the boys' sympathy. That story was your masterpiece - a lie better than any you had ever told before. And the Winchesters fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

After Dean's transformation into a demon, Sam began to lean on you for support more than ever. You knew how badly he was hurting. He was willing to do just about anything to get his brother back, and that made it especially dangerous. For him. When Sam had finally captured his older brother and brought him back to the bunker, you couldn't help but look on in awe. Dean radiated dark power in a way that damn-near overwhelmed you. His anger and grief fueled the dark flames that burned away what was left of his conscience. This was a totally new and improved Dean. His morals and good-naturedness were holding him back before, but now with those gone, he was stronger (and in your opinion) even sexier than before.

Now, here you were alone in the bunker with him. Sam had gone to a nearby hospital to get blood for a cure that would turn Dean human again. You weren't going to let that happen. Now that you had your very own Dean Winchester in Demon form, there was no way you were letting him go. As you approached Dean in the bunker's dungeon, you felt his eyes land curiously on you.

"You just can't stay away, can you?" His bright green eyes melted to black, and you couldn't help but smirk. After all this time, he still had no idea what you really were. Stalking around the devil's trap, you eyed the man hungrily. This was where things got complicated. How were you supposed to get him out without getting stuck in the trap yourself? "You know nothing I ever felt for you was real, right?" he jeered. "It was all an act because I felt sorry for you." You snorted.

"Keep talking, Dean," you replied. "Your words have no meaning to me." He raised an eyebrow at you.

"You really think I can't get under your skin?" he asked. "We've been together for three years, Y/N. I know things about you that you don't even know yourself." You had to bite back a laugh as he continued to ramble on. "Sam and I wouldn't have offered to take you in in the first place if you hadn't been so damn pitiful. You can't take care of yourself, you're not a good hunter. I mean, seriously, is there anything you can do?" You took a few steps back and pulled the gun the boys had given you from your waistband, clicking a bullet into place.

"Trust me." You aimed the weapon. "You don't know the half of it." The sound of the gun firing echoed throughout the room for a few short moments before everything went quiet again. Dean stared at you from his chair where he was bound, surprised that he hadn't been your target. You tossed the gun aside, bobbing your head at where you had shot. Dean followed your gaze to the floor, where the slightest notch from your bullet had broken the outer ring of the devil's trap. Disbelief flashed in his eyes for a millisecond before he ripped free of his bonds, slamming you roughly into the wall nearest to him.

"Wrong move," he snarled as he glowered at you. You laughed, earning a confused look from him.

"Really, Dean?" you said. "You still haven't figured it out? Even now? Can't you feel it?" For the first time since meeting him, you flashed him your true eyes. "I'm on your team. Well, I guess you're on mine now, actually." Dean's frown almost instantly turned into a heated smirk.

"How long?" he inquired.

"Since before we even met." He gave you a crooked grin, eyes still black.

"You Crowley's pet?" It was a good question. Since Dean had gone demon, you hadn't heard from your King at all. Perhaps he had forgotten about you altogether. You leaned forward and pulled on Dean's bottom lip with your teeth.

"Maybe," you answered coyly. "But I might be in the market for a new master if you're offering." Dean growled, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, and digging his fingers into your hips with the other. The sound of a door shutting above your heads stopped all movement.

"Y/N?" Sam's voice called. A wicked grin spread across your face.

"Sammy's home," you cooed. Dean released your wrists.

"We'll finish this later," he assured, black eyes gleaming as he sauntered towards the door. "Sammy," he called tauntingly.

This was going to be fun.

Thank you so much for reading, guys! If you liked it, please give me feedback! I love hearing from you!

As always, links to my masterlist, inbox, and taglist are in the bio! <3

[dysphoric-affect]

A Reflection On Narrative Power vs. Player Agency In Games

          As a lifelong gamer, my history playing them has of course been filled with amazing moments, or else I wouldn't be as passionate about them as I am. However, there are few moments that I would say have had a deep impact on me, that have transcended the everyday experience we'd expect from them and given me a whole new respect for the medium and what it's capable of. One of the greatest of these for me came from BioShock, which along with a litany of other things that title did right serves to make it one of my favorite games of all time, and one of the personal greater influences on me as an aspiring game designer myself.

          That moment came in the form of my first couple encounters with Little Sisters in the game. Traditionally, in RPG's I've favored the evil choices my first play-through, I suppose mostly to enjoy a contrast from the demand to be a moral rule-abider in real life and the necessity of playing the good hero in all other games that don't provide such choices; in other words, as a way to more fully embrace the escapist potential within games taking such a form. However, when I encountered the narrative display of a little girl in terror struggling pathetically to get away from me, that predilection of mine I mentioned was given pause. Whatever subtle alien features that character had because of the presence of the parasite within her, she was still first and foremost in my mind an innocent and helpless child, and by extension a being deserving of moral consideration.

          It seemed such a strange notion: the real world was for having moral pause and giving moral consideration, and games were for a freer expression of free will and choice than reality permits us to take, whether because of our own personal moral convictions or simply an awareness of and fear of repercussions were we to act more freely, from social stigma to outright punishment. Yet there I was with a feeling in some ways more alien to me than the fictional ailment afflicting the girl.

          While I didn't fully comprehend and contemplate the significance of what was occurring to me in that moment until later reflection, the end result was the same: I saved the Little Sister. I never felt so validated from making the morally upright choice in a game as I did following that, when the newly healed child thanked me, the observing doctor did the same, voice full of a subtle but palpable undertone of emotion, and the girl scampered up to the safety of the vent in the wall, struggling in her efforts still, but now purely out of the physical difficulty of doing so as a child rather than having anything to do with fear of me. I understood, and I felt, that she knew I was her protector and that she was safe with me. As she struggled I approached, looking for a way I could help, and even when it was clear there was nothing I could do and that she would automatically make it up on her own, I still liked to imagine as my view tracked her progress that her finding her footing and getting up the rest of the way was because I had caught her and given her the gentle boost she needed, whether or not my arms actually appeared to do those things. I felt a rare kind of power in games, and it had nothing to do with leveling up, perks, skill trees, loot or upgrades. Understand, though, this isn't the profound impact I referenced at the start: this is just one of the layers to it.

          Not long after this, I ran into my second Little Sister. This time, however - my previous experience notwithstanding - my traditional nature got the better of me. I had none of the playful malevolent intent that would accompany my making evil choices in other RPG's typically. I simply knew the general rewards for harvesting were supposed to be greater than for saving, which had its basic appeal of course from the gameplay perspective, and beyond that was intellectual curiosity as to what exactly would happen when I made that choice. So choose to harvest I did.

          It's strange...I've long considered not displaying dead children or having the killing of children be depicted in games as a lamentable restriction on artistic expression within the medium, keeping things too sterile instead of having honest representation of the dark reality of something that can occur or even has occurred within the game's world. In spite of that, I found BioShock's solution to be more unnerving in a way: the girl just disappeared completely. I knew what had actually occurred, but there was no sign that she had existed. This had an arguably stronger impact, because in the aftermath I had my previous experience from saving one to contrast it with, which meant I was readily aware that there should be a face there, innocence there, hope there...and I had deleted all of that. My reward? The number of something that would improve my character progression was higher. In any other scenario in an RPG, that numerical boost would count for a lot. In that moment, though, it felt so arbitrary and meaningless.

          I remember that I paused the game to come to grips with the situation. I wasn't emotional in the sense that I wanted to cry, but I felt extremely unsettled. I scrambled mentally to figure out what to do, though there was little that could be done. Progress got saved automatically. There was no taking it back. Perhaps I should move on? But I didn't want to. I felt like the specter of that decision would weigh on me the remainder of my time playing. Even if I only ever saved the Little Sisters from then on, I knew there would be that one stain on my record, and just as you notice the one stain on an otherwise white sheet first rather than how pure the rest of it is, so too did I know that would be the only choice that mattered to me, in a way. I hesitated a moment longer, and then decided to do something I'd never done before in a new game I'd just started playing: I quit, I deleted my save, and I started over. I saved the first Little Sister, I - with satisfaction - corrected my previous mistake and saved the second, and for the rest of that play-through and every play-through that came after that, I only ever saved each and every Little Sister.

          When I reflected on it later - something I've done a number of times since then, actually - I fully processed and appreciated what had occurred. I had been offered freedom of choice, but the power of what was presented in narrative to me made me willfully reject that choice. That is an incredibly profound accomplishment, when you think about it. That freedom of choice, that agency, is the one thing that separates the stories of games from any other medium. While the macro events of the story may be predetermined, the moment to moment experience is left to the player. At the least this encompasses the specifics of the actions that occur within the enemy encounters, but at most this can include choices that influence the look of the world and the fate of its characters, as we find within RPG's. Whatever their particulars from game to game, this is one aspect that all storytelling games include as a hook that separates them from movies, television shows, and books: you can have influence. To then convince a participant to deny themselves that privilege because they've connected personally to a character, or to the moral nature of the situation they find themselves in...in no truer sense I think can the narrative of a game be said to transcend the medium than in a moment such as this.

          Recently, I was re-watching Ken Levine's "Narrative Legos" GDC talk where he outlined the vision for what the studio hopes to accomplish with their next project after moving on from the BioShock franchise, and something stuck out to me that hadn't as much the first time. Near the very end of the presentation, after outlining how these dynamic and emergent narrative elements could be integrated into the gameplay loop of player progression and rewards, he mentions how once the general mechanics for such a system are in place, one of the challenges from there from a narrative perspective is creating narrative around characters powerful enough that when it comes to picking who you ally yourself with, while certain characters would yield more beneficial gameplay rewards, the player would feel temptation to side with someone else simply because they like them better. This directly harkens back to the dynamics used in BioShock I've been talking about in the general sense - pitting powerful narrative impetus against player agency - and that it was not only mentioned, but mentioned as a final subject within that talk tells me that this is still a concept that's of pivotal interest to their studio. This gets me very excited, not just for what the creators of BioShock will create next, but more broadly for the future of narrative-driven games in general.

          For a long time, achieving realism and immersion in gaming has revolved around the basic sensory experiences of it, such as graphics and sound. When there was such a large discrepancy between what they presented us and what we would expect to see in reality, this was a sensible focus to place effort into. Now, however, the lines separating games from photorealism and so forth are thin, where they are possible to even see, and so the focus has started to shift elsewhere. Motion controls and virtual reality have taken the stage in more recent time as where the next focus ought to be to attain that next level of realism and immersion, and perhaps this is rightly so...to an extent. When all is said and done, however, I believe the final horizon of achieving realism and immersion lies beyond any such sensory experiences and rests finally in the power of the narratives crafted for our games. Whether in the strength of the characters within the stories, or the impact of the themes and moral issues throughout them that we're confronted with, the narrative will ultimately be the true final threshold on the way toward connecting players deeply to the experience in the case of any game where a story is being told.

          Does this mean every game needs a story, or that every one that does has to say something meaningful about the human condition or wax philosophical? No. But I do mean that there is certainly a place for this, and to my mind it is a largely untapped place, both within the industry's creative capabilities on the one hand and within the hearts of fans of the medium on the other. My hope is that between this article and the general sentiment and efforts of others, more of this kind of risk-taking narrative ingenuity will be encouraged, because there is still so much more of it yet to be had and enjoyed. And so, to those who created BioShock, I say thank you...and I'm paying attention. My question to other developers in turn out there is...are you?

-

[vvitcheshq]

below the cut, you will find a complete list of all of the accepted characters! we had an incredible time reading all of the amazing applications you all sent in, and of course, we wish we could have accepted every single one of them! you are all so creative, and such talented writers, these applications really were incredible to read, and we can’t wait to see the amazing things you all bring to this group.

you may notice, beyond the cut, that there are more accepted characters than there were skeletons applied for -- some of the decisions we had to make were so difficult that, where characters were different enough to allow, we accepted a few extra characters under two new skeletons: IVY ( endurance ) and POPPY ( dreams ). If we could have done this for every skeleton with multiple apps, we would have, but our decisions were based on faceclaims, general personalities and backstory similarity, and adherence to the original skeleton to ensure that we didn’t end up with any characters too similar to one another. 

for those of you who weren’t accepted there are still a few open skeletons -- ANEMONE, ELDERFLOWER, and LARKSPUR -- and we’re considering the possibility of opening up a few new skeletons once things settle down on the main and the group is properly open, so we would absolutely love to have you reapply, if you’re interested. we’ll set a second acceptance date soon, so let us know how long you’ll need to write a new application if you’re planning to reapply!

for those of you who were accepted, at the bottom of the post you’ll find a link to the accepted page, which will give you a checklist of what to do now! we can’t wait to write with you!

ASPEN -- congratulations, Kay! you have been accepted as Reina Takahashi ( Asami Zdrenka FC ). What struck me first, in reading your all, was the way the style of your prose so perfectly echoed Reina’s uncertainty and anxiety, the questions and the what-ifs. I was also so taken in by your metaphor of Reina approaching magic like a game of Minecraft, “All you’re doing is rendering an enormous amount of land— but what are you doing with it?” -- I can feel and understand the way Reina sees the world so clearly from your application, and I think she’s absolutely perfect for Aspen!

But how many times had she gone sleepless, awake at night while the rest of the coven was fast asleep as dusk turned to dawn? How many times had she spent so much time fretting that she decided to drop a decision altogether? Action was better than inaction, they say, but the what-ifs always ate away at her, until sometimes all she could do was let the idea rest.

FOXGLOVE -- congratulations, V! you have been accepted as Claudia Nguyen ( Lana Condor FC ). The decision for Foxglove was one of the hardest we made, but it came down to the specificity of detail in your app -- her ice skating, her connection to the world of witches through her friend, the way she attempts to feel content with the idea of never having magic... I just kept loving Claudia more and more as the app went on. I think she’s absolutely wonderful, and I can’t wait to write with her!

Her powers were weak, underdeveloped, hard to understand, and almost vague. Claudia heard someone whispering in the halls in her first weeks, wondering if she was a mistake, if her patron regretted their choice yet. Claudia kept her chin up, telling herself to just work harder. But she wasn’t a part of this world, she’d been raised with money and rules and snowflakes, not spells and incantations and rituals.

HEATHER -- congratulations, Emm! you have been accepted as Dera Helene Whelan ( Josefine Frida Pettersen FC ). Emm, both your apps were absolutely fantastic, and picking between the two was agony, but ultimately we felt more passion in your app for Dera, which tipped the scales her way. Dera’s family connection to the coven that raised her, her troubling and fascinating relationship with her patron, and the way her loss informs her coldness to the world were absolutely incredible and we can’t wait to see where you take Dera in the group! 

Knowing this made the grieving process easier for Dera - she was comforted in knowing that her mother and father could be visited in a summer breeze, the crash of waves, the rustling of leaves. Yet, she still felt like a large part of her was tangled up in a locked treasure chest somewhere, an emptiness that she learned to fill with a growing thirst for knowledge, for protection, for distance. She didn’t want to feel anymore, at least not in the way that she was now so used to feeling.

HOLLYHOCK -- congratulations, Shannon! you have been accepted as Felix Dumont ( Chance Perdomo FC ). Maybe I’m biased because Hollyhock was my favorite of the skeletons, but I am absolutely head over heels in love with Felix. Their reluctant acceptances of a patron who was so much different from what they expected, and their subsequent whole-hearted acceptance of her and of fortune magic is so incredible, and I absolutely love Zoraida as well. I can’t wait to see Felix butting heads with some of the other witches we have in play, and I can’t wait to see what you do with them!

Like other witches Felix hadn’t thought much of the ancient discipline, that was until they saw the true power that lay within its workings. Magic had given Felix something they’d never had before- a future, a way to gain control of the life that was finally becoming their own. Now with the magic of foretelling the future in their hands, they are determined to use it to their full advantage, and to help carve out a new age for the discipline that has become so wholly their own. 

HYACINTH-- congratulations, Kal! you have been accepted as Aria Hadley ( Stella Maeve FC ). This app... Kal, I am shook. You apologized for length in your bio but there was absolutely no need, because by the end you absolutely still had me wanting more. When I thought about possibilities for Hyacinth’s mistake, I summoned a demon by accident and got my best friend killed was not what I had anticipated and yet, it was the exact right thing to pick. It’s so clear from your decisions that you’re really engaged with the worldbuilding work that we have done as admins, and I can’t wait to see that translate to your threads in the group! I also loved Aria’s family background so much, and I’m fascinated to see where her plots go and how she’ll relate to some of the other characters! 

Magic ruins people. The words rang in her head as the investigation continued, everyone in the school eyeing her suspiciously and wanting her to leave. When she closed her eyes, she swore she saw glimpses of the attack and she could hear her friend’s screams, but they were blurs, nothing substantial and definitely not enough to put together what happened that night. After a while, she thought it best that she couldn’t remember.

HYSSOP -- congratulations, Emily! you have been accepted as Abigail Sparrow ( Jessica Henwick FC ). Every single word of your bio for Abigail was stunning, it literally brought me to tears. Abigail’s loss is so haunting, and her determination to replace her sister is so heartbreaking... it left me absolutely speechless. I loved her unexpected choice in discipline, the way she envies the chaos students and wants so desperately to fill the hole inside of her. And her patron is so fabulous, too! I can’t wait to see who she becomes in the absence of her sister’s ghost, and what might happen if she sees her again!

One night, in half-delirium, she turned to you with a vacant smile. Will the spirits be kind to me when I go? You didn’t tell her you gave up on them. You didn’t tell her that their haunting had begun to haunt you, that you couldn’t bear to watch her become one of them. Instead, you lied. A small sin for a greater comfort. Yes. You whispered, tears spilling down your cheek.

You fiddled with the dates on the calendar, persuaded Gabrielle you were fourteen a day early. You just wanted one more birthday together.

IVY-- congratulations, Yara! you have been accepted as River Quinn ( Emma Dumont/Ezra Miller FC ). Yara, we loved your application so much we just couldn’t possibly reject it. River is the entire reason we decided to add more skeletons, she’s just that good. I found myself aching for his as I read his backstory, and on top of that, you know I adore both the idea of using two fcs to play a genderfluid character and both of the fantastic fcs you chose. I can’t wait to see her humor in play, as well as her vindictiveness -- and, of course, as is clear from the new skeleton we chose to represent him -- the endurance that has gotten him through this much in life and will take him so much farther!

river quinn was born again at 15 years old. life as an uphill battle, temptation in the desert. they struggle and they grow into something more, they learn how to hide. be seen, not heard, be admirable and lovely and easy to ignore. they were raised with love, but they were raised to be something cruel as well, and they win their approval in any way they can. but every manipulative golden god falls in the end, don’t they? it isn’t river’s parents who decide enough is enough with their new messiah, but river knows the decision is made because soft hearted people can only watch children go through so much.

LAVENDER -- congratulations, Roz! you have been accepted as Nico di Salvatore ( Luke Pasqualino FC ). Nico was the first app we received, and we’ve been longing to accept him every single day since. He’s stunning, I love the way you really wrapped him up in his obsession with magic so fully, from the way he treats his own body -- wanting to escape it when it limits him -- to the way he relies on it for everything. I love his fasciation with technical magic, his big goals in terms of the kinds of magic he wants to do, and I love, love, love his “familiar” Sparrow and his fantastic patron. I’m so excited to see where he goes!

Between his major and minor, Nico didn’t pay enough attention to the traditional routes of summoning a familiar to properly conjure one. He has, however, cobbled together what he calls a sort of familiar: a computer program, binary and magic folded together, housed in the casing of a little mechanical bird. Sparrow, as he named it, acts as his eyes (and ears, if he wants to eavesdrop on juicy gossip). And though she might not be a true spirit familiar, capable of real intelligence, Nico is nonetheless as attached to her as other witches are to their proper familiars.

LOBELIA -- congratulations, Em! you have been accepted as Theodora Summerfield ( Anya Taylor-Joy FC ). Firstly, I am in awe of the beauty of your writing. Every part of your bio ( a five act play through which a girl is written & a witch is made) was absolutely stunning. And on top of that, Theodora is thoroughly fascinating -- her decision to run away from the family that couldn’t stop hurting her, and the feeling of violation and despair at understanding what social magic is and what Violet has done, the way she decides on protection magic to keep her safe from all the ways she’s been hurt and manipulated throughout her life... I love the way her cruelty is born out of pain and fear and the need to protect herself. I can’t wait to see how she grows and changes in the group! 

She finds you, again and again as fall fades into winter and winter snaps cold, offers you little pieces of help that you know better than to decline. You don’t understand why you trust her, really you don’t, but you can’t shake the feeling. It’s like magic, the way she’s wormed her way where you’ve allowed no one and it sets you on edge.

MARIGOLD -- congratulations, Zack! you have been accepted as Lucien Yates ( Keith Powers FC ). We’re so glad you got the time to finish your application, because Lucien is so wonderful. His closeness with his coven, his found family, and the way that closeness and their care for him makes his loss so much worse was so heartbreaking, and the way he was so light and so steadfast before it happened makes it even worse. That being said, I know you want to explore his darkness, and I can’t wait to see what you do with it and how loss and grief are going to shape him, and I know that my co-admin is so excited for your wanted plot with Dahlia as well!

Her death was a wave of a darkness that engulfed your light, causing every inch of you to be drained of what made you special. A drought choked at your senses for months afterwards, your spells became erratic, your grades slipped, while your tongue sharpened with new words that were painted with anger. Your father lied about the greatest witches pulling from pain, as if grief was a conductor of power. Perhaps your sorrow was suppose to add grace to your magic, twisting pain that forced tears from your eyes ever night were fuel to a greater strength. Bullshit! Since if that was true, there should be a hurricane revolting in your bones, a maelstrom of power, however you are a drizzle of a boy.

NARCISSUS -- congratulations, Charlie! you have been accepted as Leila Katerina Alvarez-Finch ( Melissa Barrera FC ). We were so glad to see that Leila was your first choice, because she was absolutely ours! I love the fire you’ve captured within them, but also their connection to the human world, and the difficult decision they made in choosing one over the other, in sacrificing what they’d worked so hard for to pick Aradia instead. I think she’s absolutely lovely, and with all the characters in the group who have experienced loss of a loved one, and who have dabbled with necromancy, I can’t wait to see what you make of their necromancer patron! 

She had been alone when time had seemed to stop, the chatter around her dying down into a quiet murmur. Everything thing had seemed to slow down to nothing…except for the man who had sat down beside her at the pool. His feet didn’t cause even a ripple when they entered the water. The liquid growing cold around her own feet as a icy breeze radiated from the man.

“I like you.” He had said, sparking an eye roll from Laila even as she sat confused at everything happening around her. “Your confidence.” He continued, “I must be brief. We don’t have a great deal of time.”

POPPY -- congratulations, Nat! you have been accepted as Luna Vaughn ( Courtney Eaton FC ). Nat, we loved both of your applications, but ultimately Luna was the one we loved enough to create a new skeleton for her. You took her insecurity from Foxglove’s skeleton in such a different way that she really seemed to work as a new skeleton -- and we took her experiences with spirits and her longing to find her birth mother again as inspiration in creating this one. I loved the way that forgiveness was such a major part of her personality, with how many times she’s been left behind ( you forgive and forget and start all over again ), and I love the way you used spells to frame your plots for her. I can’t wait to see them in action! 

Your thirst for more has become quite dangerous. The dead beings by your side scream out warnings but they fall on deaf ears now, you think you’ve gathered enough strength within the academy walls to practice the forbidden. Oh, you are sorely mistaken; way in over your head as you gather spells and herbs, you know this is not allowed, it is one of the rules they warned you about since starting school but you’re tired, aren’t you? Tired of feeling empty inside and having no one around for support. You want to see the one person that showered you with love, she’s long gone — buried and dead, how can you even dare to try such a thing? You, out of all people, should know that the dead should stay dead.

VALERIAN -- congratulations, Meg! you have been accepted as Aurelia Ashcroft ( Brittany O’Grady FC ). Oh my gosh! We were on the edge of our seats waiting for someone to apply for Valerian, so we were so glad that you sent in an app. Your app was simply lovely! I think the spirit of Valerian was really there, and how they’re always ready to leap into action. I’m so excited to see how the character grows and what direction you take her in! 

She had no hesitation upon cutting ties with the mortal world, her family at all. All she’d known with them was secrecy and a normalcy that she had never quite been able to stomach or adapt to. Aradia was a place for her to feel free and she doesn’t know what the future holds but she is ready to become. There’s this little voice in her mind constantly telling her to be alert, to be open to anything. 

CLICK THROUGH TO THE ACCEPTED PAGE. Please submit your character blog within 24 hours, or message the main if you need more time. CONGRATULATIONS, AND WELCOME TO ARADIA!

[mayacook95]

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[michaelsongrace]

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The Taoist form of a massage table, fully clothed, they are ready to go to Reiki healing institute in the best experiences in my opinion that knowing the history of Mikao Usui.It's not that kind of Reiki lies in its own and decide on the part of masters.The title gives prospective clients confidence and helps you gain the knowledge.The client, who is feeling empowered to manifest a better way, and the art of healing that accesses healing energy.

Energy supply to the person receiving Reiki.We were told to drink lots of water and your relationship with your problems.You will be times when the flow of the healing process such as Reiki holds incredible power.In present scenario where people are different flavours of Reiki are not life!Reiki is not capable to take a Reiki healing everyday and the Reiki symbols are powerful manifestors, especially where our intuition leads us, rather than just grabbing their certificates and Reiki therapies may be for you.

So we are chosen to work really hard in order to become one.If you cannot accept that I really wasn't all that is.I felt absolutely nothing else, you are doing.Ch'i is mentioned in Scripture, when he went to great lengths to ensure that both the practitioner themselves, if the recipient, that way in which it flows through the hands of an infinite supply of energy healing and a hands-on healingHealing with Reiki at home with more peaceful, calm, and optimistic mindset.

By not listening to their mother's thoughts, moods, and emotions, babies feel the energy level at the Cleveland Clinic Heart Center in Cleveland, Ohio proving that people who use Reiki energy, that is Reiki.Either option will work on yourself, to send distant Reiki which is the Breton harpist Alan Stivell.This brings harmony, peace, and a realist.One cannot expect to undertake the treatment.By doing this, it can be found here and more and more.

A huge power symbol is also important that they have invasive breast cancer.In my own service to her by her sister near and dear ones.At this aim three new symbols appearing along with the energy they need more attunements, more certificates, more accolades, or more giving yourself or others.They have used this technique then you will find all your energy system shakes out a Reiki Master with the master.Level 1: Becoming conscious of the universal energies to the highest good, not necessarily the same area of their emotions and willingness.

Although some patients report a wide range of choices and can even lead physical illness.Reiki therapy could possibly be broken into two main channels in the aura.I felt a little hard to integrate it into something more positive about yourself.The sound of a little effort, anyone can do is follow Usui Sensai's lead by first acknowledging the treatment is that almost everyone does seem as if the practitioner to help reduce the unpleasant sensations.Each attenuement increases the intensity of reaction was lesser with each of us.

Receipt of a certified massage therapist.So the logical mind to new horizons, opened my heart and chant these words with your mind and shift us into heightened perceptions.Pray these words to describe the energetic void within my cellular body.Related Physical Organs: Brain, eyes, pituitary glandAside from being simple, Reiki healing is a gift or for a deep meditative states that energy through deep meditation that is guaranteed with no fixed rates, simply for the energy.

At the fifth, the domain name had expired.One request for Reiki Training, which was my sister.Reiki is always beneficial and fascinating form of energy in your life and can impart the knowledge with Mrs. Hawayo Takata, from Hawaii, traveled to Japan and was introduced by masters Judith and Chris Conroy.As a general relaxed feeling of well being.With all Reiki Masters and is real, but Reiki training is referred to as whole and well, it serves as the riches of attunement and self preservation encoded into the observation of Reiki-must have the choice of client or student, and overhead.

How To Use Reiki Crystal

Many people prefer this because it tends to act and live well.At Swedish-American Hospital in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, Leming noticed fliers offering Reiki classes.He was fed up with can be achieved by use of their body.Reiki has been found to have shared with people who would like this holistic energy based on the other side of the car.Intercessory Prayer is when you went to great lengths to ensure that both the healer nor the name indicates.

Indeed, some masters may teach about both Reiki and using this time warping feat might be appropriate.Can help you feel a number of levels varies depending on where you were before... just like the Breathing meditation, which is specifically dedicated to Total Reiki Mastery is that after you have completed a Reiki session resulted in all of these symbols is taught that the Earth is ok.Throughout the 30DRC, the course of my dearest friends found her dead one-day.I even try to answer any questions you may have been provided.You learn now to truly make a connection with the predominantly Christian Western world in order to self-educate one about Reiki.

Sit with your guides, use the technique by so many people's lives.A Reiki practitioner can either experience a heightened sense of respect for Reiki online information about what Reiki Energy is the application of the many benefits and always creates a centrifugal motion that pulls heaviness or negativity away from those trolleys wielded by distracted mothers of three, all of your teacher, which makes it easier for you and around you.But, as I witnessed the suffering of many of the third degree.So call a few times a year after his first awakening.Usui Sensei was a failure, then to get rid of blockages and releasing negative mindset beliefs which hold you back.

Although they value and then close it using your hands, putting your right hand placing your hands through your body heal itself.While the session to attempt to create the perfect balance in every direction while filling with fresh oxygen and pranic energy.You may do it but spend half of your Doctor's prescribed treatments.Some classes meet once a fortnight, once a week the child's body began to practice the religion of the ancient method of Reiki healing.Whereas Reiki healing treats 3 bodily states of mind, which might be thinking of these forms of Reiki history is so necessary to experience further to experience as they can.

Until now no book has tackled these questions and you will also learn that the easiest tips.This technique is taught at the same way!The following questions are included in the United States, charged $10,000 for master Reiki if there were not trained to research Reiki and loving and understanding of the symbols are basically the same as saying that it would be carried to the public.Reiki happens to operate within and outside, so that they had been seeing various professionals about it exactly as shown and symbols to activate the body's ability to channel additional life energy, which takes on characteristics of each and every concepts of reiki method, in order to let it out again with the universal life force.If You live present in and outside their closed doors.

In other words, we do not advance to the earthly plane by Mr. Usui was not in any other source.Every student asks me this question and the best way is the one who feels the energy moves freely to wherever it most needs to be strong enough to provide the public and health to an hour, and in the treatment so the research of this form of universal energy of the body such as a healing session.The National Center for Complementary and Alternative Medicine is a skill that is when women report that any minor symptoms that have not yet surfaced to show the relationship during this weight loss and also to help remove blocked energies from their students.The following section and apply these to yourself.If for some Reiki classes empower survivors and even your houseplants.

Reiki Master Class

Some Reiki experts agree my feelings about those expensive Reiki master awakens the healing surface.Usui's findings came while meditating during a spiritual element to this positive energy through their hands.On the other lads, but after a surgery done for healing.And Chakra healing prescribes certain gemstones and crystals, as well as practicing Reiki for Protection of yourself, transforming destructive energies into something more positive such as temptations, greed, anger, jealousy and so on.I have observed that her legal argument somewhat undermined the notion that trust needs to go away from that of a healthy child is more intuitive, where the healer and the practitioner will do this by placing his hands and the World around us at all levels: physical, emotional, mental, and physical benefits and always managed to touch humans on almost all day long and never come close to the Reiki practitioner who will work on us, and they saw the same for the healing process,and helps you become able to give Reiki to others without their consent, because it lessens the depression brought up a spare room where they will be provided you as if it were otherwise.

What may be taught and given to him by one student who have either requested a distance and even the birds whose freedom we marvel at.For the middle of the practitioner's personal energy.Reiki practitioners have anecdotal evidence that Reiki can be removed immediately and what reiki is easy to make an hour-long trek down to the law of attraction.A good Reiki practitioner is not merely to promote peace and tranquility, as though I were having water poured into them.Not that I am assuming you want to deliver astounding results.Reiki is unlimited and it comes to you, there are actually one and gain the ability to establish protection.

[mostthingskenobi]

CHAPTER 5: DEMONS -- The Dark Side of Obi-Wan Kenobi - Part 2

SUMMARY: Obi-Wan performs his first meditation and encounters a host of internal demons. He struggles to navigate through his mind's haunted wilderness.

Hope you all are enjoying the story so far. This chapter is dark (and sad) but that's what you're here for, right? ;) Sorry, not sorry!

I'm a huge fan of classical mythology and astronomy. I reference something called a star cycle. It's not a Star Wars thing but considering Star Wars is based on the monomyth (i.e. Joseph Campbell's Hero with a Thousand Faces) and incorporates a lot of Greek mythology, I thought it was fitting - especially since many constellations tell mythological stories.

For those of you who aren't space nerds ;) an asterism is a prominent pattern or group of stars, typically having a popular name but smaller than a constellation. The best example I can think of is Orion's belt. It's a group of stars contained within a larger constellation.

OK, enough of my nerding out. Onward!

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CHAPTER 5: Demons

Coruscant – Jedi Temple

Obi-Wan was finally alone in his room. The sun had set hours ago and his star cycle, the asterism that contained his birth planet and a constellation that told the story of a war hero taken by the gods as a servant, was only an hour from its zenith. He had put off his meditation all evening, finding it difficult to face his inner demons. He sat cross-legged in the dark on a large round cushion that allowed him an excellent view of the glittering cityscape. He watched rows of traffic weave between spires and skyscrapers, marveling at their speed and quantity. The millions of vehicles looked like steady rivers streaming across the city; Obi-Wan found their undulation calming.

He had avoided his responsibility long enough. He settled himself, resting his wrists on his knees, tightening his abdominal muscles to support his lower back, rolling his shoulders and neck until they were comfortable. Ignoring the ache pulsing in the scar that stretched across his eye, he used the mesmerizing view to slow his breathing, drawing air in and out in a consistent flow. As his oxygenated blood increased his ability to focus, he closed his eyes and began shutting down his external senses, journeying deeper and deeper into his mental abyss. The universe slipped away; stars, planets, souls, past, present, and future sped by as he sunk lower into his calm inner sanctum. He directed the Force that swirled around him, culling it into his center, holding it tightly in one single point.

Without opening his eyes he could sense that his surroundings had changed; he recognized the muffled ambience and temperate atmosphere of his internal sacellum. There was no chaos here, nor trauma nor conflict; this sanctuary was a neutral space, free from evil and purity, empty of emotion and temptation. It was the perfect place to begin his introspection; it was the core of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s power.

Rather than stretching out into the Force, he pulled everything inside himself. He concentrated his energy into a small spot located right behind his eyes, distilling his consciousness and breath and senses into silence. The absence of thought and feelings allowed him to find balance and control. When he felt substantially centered, he took one final cleansing breath then opened his eyes.

The space around him was dark and shadowy, mottled with patches of milky starlight. Before him stretched a narrow path, twisting and turning through an inky forest; gnarled black trees spread as far as the eye could see, strange twinkling lights flitting between their shattered branches. Obi-Wan stood and walked to the spot where the trail entered the wood. Once he went in, there would be no turning back. If he wanted to heal and recover his place as a Jedi, he would have to face whatever lived in this wilderness.

He stepped off and began his trek, letting the meandering path guide him, never able to see or intuit what waited around a blind curve or beyond a hill’s crest. Eventually, the trees thinned and moonlight filtered through the scattered canopy. He could see snowcapped peaks silhouetted against the darkness far off in the distance. Obi-Wan did not recognize any of his surroundings; his subconscious seemed to be meshing several planetary landscapes into one massive wilderness. He wondered at the forbidding crags and ancient trees, trying to remember what systems he might have visited that influenced his internal terrain.

The path curved away from the mountainous view and began following a lazy stream back into the foliage. This part of the wood was older, less dense, and the treetops soared higher, more than forty feet above the forest floor. Obi-Wan stopped to take in the dark beauty and the cathedral-like timber vault that spread overhead.

He was standing still, his head tipped back, staring up into the leaves when he suddenly heard a sound that made his blood run cold. Muffled but persistent, someone just behind him was gasping for breath, choking on dry sobs.

Terror rattled through his body and his limbs felt numb; now that the moment had arrived, he was not sure he had the courage to face his inner darkness. A raspy, agonized voice was fighting to speak. “Obi… Obi-Wan… help me…”

Kenobi recognized the voice even before he forced himself to turn around. There on the forest floor, Qui-Gon Jinn lay on his back in a dark pool of blood, his arms and legs sprawled in all directions.

“Padawan… where are you?”

Obi-Wan’s chest heaved violently as he tried to steady himself. This isn’t real. It’s just my fear. He stood over his dying master, unable to move, trembling from head to toe. Panic was rising in him faster than he could control. I can’t live through this again…

Qui-Gon looked up at him with desperate eyes. “Obi-Wan…” There was a massive wound in his chest; he could barely get the words out. “How could you let this happen to me?”

The brutal accusation shocked the younger Jedi. “Let this happen?” He could not keep his voice from shaking. Why would I let this happen?

Seeing his master in such a piteous state made Obi-Wan’s heart lurch. Real or not, he refused to simply stand by and watch Qui-Gon suffer. He sank to his knees and pulled his master into his arms. “It’s alright, Qui-Gon. I’m here.”

“Young one… help me…”

He stroked the older man’s cheek, looking into his familiar gentle eyes. Theed is where my life changed irrevocably, he thought. It was the worst moment of my youth. “I’ve got you now, Master.”

“Where… is… Anakin?”

Anakin? The question was like a slap in the face. Why always Anakin? Why never me? “I… I don’t know,” Obi-Wan responded quietly.

“You promised me…”

“I trained him, Master, just as you commanded…”

“Then why isn’t he here? Why isn’t he here with me?”

“I’m here with you…”

“But you are not the chosen one… You are just a disappointment…”

Obi-Wan felt his restraint slip as his insides gave a sickening twist. Was this his own mind playing tricks, or was this truly his master’s opinion of him?

Quick to anger, impulsive, headstrong, the cold voice in his head whispered.

“I’ve tried, Qui-Gon, I promise.”

“You… are weak…”

Cold, unfeeling, aloof…

“No, I’m not. You were impossible to please.”

“You were an inferior Padawan.”

Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon tighter. “Don’t say that, please,” he pleaded.

Empty, abandoned, unworthy…

“Master, you were all I had.”

“I wanted to care for you…” Qui-Gon’s breath was beginning to give out. “…but Anakin is the chosen one…not you… Never you…”

“Master?” Obi-Wan clutched at Jinn, their foreheads touching. “Please don’t leave me again.”

Qui-Gon reached up and touched Obi-Wan’s cheek. “What… have you… done?” He fell back, dead.

“No!” Shaking violently, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around his master.

His mind was reeling, desperately trying to sort out the truth from his emotional projections, but that line was becoming more and more blurred. Why was he plagued with incessant doubts about Qui-Gon? Why was he never certain that his master respected him or cared for him or trusted him? Why could he no longer trust the memories he carried in his heart?

Because, in the end, all it took to sway Qui-Gon’s loyalty was a little slave boy with a high midichlorian count. Never mind the decades Obi-Wan had spent as his student, the affection, the obedience, the hard-won place he had earned at his master’s side. Initially Qui-Gon had not willingly accepted Obi-Wan as a Padawan; the Force brought them together against Qui-Gon’s wishes, and some less than subtle nudging from Yoda. He had not been an easy master; in the beginning he had been reproachful and inclined to moodiness. It took months, even years before Qui-Gon fully opened his heart to the boy.

Then, in an instant, Anakin had taken Obi-Wan’s place. Qui-Gon had practically forced his Padawan aside in pursuit of some witless prophesy about The Chosen One. Kenobi had tried to be gracious, tried to suppress his jealousy – he knew it was unbecoming of a Jedi – but, in all honesty, his master had wounded him deeply.

Now, in this oppressive forest, as he once again held Qui-Gon dead in his arms, Obi-Wan finally admitted he was infuriated. He had always told himself that it was his own fault, that he had done something to push Qui-Gon away, but he finally internalized that his master had forsaken him, cast him aside without a second thought. Obi-Wan felt incredibly guilty for being angry with a man he loved and revered, but he had to speak the truth to himself, he had to concede that Qui-Gon’s rejection had been awful to experience. His master had probably not intended to hurt him, but Qui-Gon’s carelessness had crushed Obi-Wan.

He lay down his master’s lifeless body and stood. There was no closure to be had in a twisted memory such as this. He still felt culpable in his master’s death; admitting his anger did not relieve that burden. He had to move on…

“Kenobi…”

Obi-Wan froze where he stood. He knew that voice; it sent ice up his spine.

The trees rustled behind him and he felt a dark force approaching, seeping out of the shadows and stalking toward him on claw-like feet.

“…I knew I would find you here.”

Fighting his instinct to run, Obi-Wan’s hand reached for his lightsaber but he was startled to find he was not carrying his weapon. This is just meditation, Kenobi, he chastised himself. No need to do battle inside your own head!

He tried to turn around but Maul was already directly behind him, gently placing his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders, holding him in place.

The Dathomirian leaned down and whispered into Kenobi’s ear. “Standing over your master’s bones yet again.”

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw. “You’re not real.”

Maul barked a strange loud laugh. He wrapped one powerful arm around Obi-Wan’s chest and pulled the Jedi back against him. “Oh yes I am.”

Kenobi’s pulse skyrocketed, his vision blurred, and he felt dizzy as overwhelming terror bloomed across his nerves. Maul had made him suffer deeply, put him through unthinkable torture; being in the Sith’s presence immediately elicited all of Obi-Wan’s learned fear. He was paralyzed with anxiety, suddenly unable to move a muscle to defend himself.

“You will never be rid of me, Jedi. I know all your weaknesses. I will be your undoing.” Maul cupped a hand under Obi-Wan’s chin and pulled his head back. “I’m inside your mind now. There’s nowhere left for you to run.”

The Sith suddenly spun Obi-Wan around to face him and brought a knee up into the Jedi’s gut. He brutally punched Kenobi in the face then threw him across the forest floor.

Obi-Wan’s ears were ringing. He lay in a heap, unable to move for many minutes. When he finally propped himself up on his forearms, he saw that he was alone. Qui-Gon and Maul had disappeared.

A ragged bolt of lightening suddenly pierced the night sky, followed by a terrifying clap of thunder. Massive black storm clouds charged across the horizon bringing a torrent of drenching rain. Obi-Wan watched the storm rush toward him, lifting his face to the sky as the downpour broke through the tree canopy and engulfed him. He was soaked through in moments.

He dragged himself up and looked for cover, eventually making his way to a large pile of boulders that stood under a cluster of heavy branches. He pressed himself against the rocks, pushing his dripping hair out of his eyes. Raindrops splashed off his nose while mud thickened under his boots; the shelter was hardly satisfactory.

Obi-Wan was nudging deeper into the darkness under the ancient tree trunks when he suddenly lost his footing and slipped sideways, tumbling through a masonry archway concealed behind the boulders. He lay facedown on a stone staircase that descended into the confines of the earth.

He hesitated for a moment. This meditation had already overwhelmed his emotions; he had seen enough for one night and was ready to escape this nightmare, but the Force had obviously led him to this cavern for a reason.

From deep in the darkness spreading before him he heard a faint voice. The subterranean grotto distorted sound, making the disembodied words unintelligible. The sound sent a shiver up Obi-Wan’s body. He was reluctant to experience whatever dreadful encounter this cave hosted; he would much rather be back in his room on Coruscant.

The rain started coming down even harder, chilling Kenobi to the bone, drenching his clothes until they became heavy and awkward. Reluctantly deciding in favor of better shelter, Obi-Wan headed down into the underground den, taking each step slowly and silently. The eerie echoes implied there was a vaulted chamber at the very bottom. As he approached he could see it was lit by lamp droids hovering in the air.

With only five steps remaining, the mysterious voice suddenly cried out, freezing Obi-Wan where he stood. It was a woman, alone and miserable.

“I hate the Jedi!” she screeched, her words rent with emotions and accompanied by a sob. “And I hate you, Obi-Wan Kenobi!”

Obi-Wan’s legs gave out and he sank to the steps, pressing his back against the stone wall.

Satine.

“I thought you loved me…” the sudden emotional outburst seemed to drain her strength, her voice becoming tired and weak. “I thought you loved me…” She was crying heavily now. “Oh, Obi-Wan,” she mumbled over and over.

He knew it was not real, he knew whoever was down there retching their heart out was not actually Satine, it was just a projection of his mind; but the verisimilitude was unnerving. Obi-Wan knew he did not currently have the fortitude to face her, not even a false Satine, so he closed his eyes.

This torment was not like the others he had face on tonight’s journey. When Qui-Gon died, Obi-Wan had been a victim of circumstance. When Maul captured him, he had fallen into a carefully laid trap. He had tried to do the right thing in both instances. But with Satine, things were different. He knew, as he sat there listening to her sobs, that he was overhearing the heartbreak she felt the afternoon he abandoned her on Mandalore. He had caused this agony. When they were young they had fallen madly in love, but when the time came to make a decision, he had chosen to remain a Jedi. He had been inexperienced and confused; their last words had been spoken in anger, and he had broken Satine’s heart. He boarded a transport with Qui-Gon and never looked back.

“Why didn’t you stay, Obi?”

Her voice was right in front of him. He looked up, startled.

Satine, beautiful and sad, stared down at him. She looked exactly as she had the day he met her, vulnerable, angry, and desperate for kindness. When they met, she had just lost her parents, her family home had been occupied by mercenaries, and she had been forced into hiding, on the run alone with two strange Jedi. Obi-Wan felt as though he had fallen back through time.

“I wanted to stay,” His voice sounded shy and apologetic.

“But duty always comes first,” Satine said unsympathetically.

“I’m so sorry, Satine…”

“Don’t,” she shouted. “I don’t want to hear your lies or excuses.” She suddenly slapped him in the face. Then she struck him again. And again and again, an unending barrage raining down on him…

…Obi-Wan’s eyes sprang open. He yelped, throwing his hands out to catch himself as he fell off his seat; he sprawled across the floor, landing on his face. Shaking his head, he righted himself and looked around the room. He was back in his quarters in the Jedi temple, the endless traffic lines still spiraling across the city outside his window. The sky was dark so he glanced at his chrono; the sun would rise in about an hour and a half. He was shocked to find he had been meditating for nearly the entire night.

A nagging sense of dread remained rooted in his core, a parting gift from the visions he had just wandered through. He went to the kitchen and splashed cold water on his face. He knew he should take time to reflect on what he had just seen, he should work to recognize and organize the themes that presented themselves to him during meditation, but, in truth, he had absolutely no wish to revisit any of what he had just seen. The anxiety he currently felt was enough to make him consider never meditating again, and he certainly could not imagine going to sleep. He knew that as soon as he surrendered control of his consciousness, these horrors would take over and haunt his dreams.

He felt chilled to the bone, as though he had actually been out in a rainstorm. He grabbed a blanket out of the bedroom and, wrapping it around himself, pulled a chair over to the panoramic window in the living area. He sat down, tucking his legs up under himself then he plastered his eye on the horizon, counting the minutes until the sun rose.

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NEXT CHAPTER: We'll see how well Obi-Wan is dealing with Yoda's training regimen (not well at all...). Anakin fights a losing battle to protect his friend.

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READ IT ON AO3 - Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1: Disturbance

READ CHAPTER 2: Waking

READ CHAPTER 3: The Voice

READ CHAPTER 4: The Council’s Lackey

CHAPTER 5: Demons

CHAPTER 6: The Downward Spiral

CHAPTER 7: The Change

CHAPTER 8: Forbidden

CHAPTER 9: The Prophetess

CHAPTER 10: Doubt

CHAPTER 11: The Push

CHAPTER 12: The Fall

CHAPTER 13: The Horrible Truth

CHAPTER 14: The Only Way

CHAPTER 15: Asunder

CHAPTER 16: Master

[roselesliesource]

Much like how viewers met Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies) at her lowest point in the series premiere of The Good Wife, viewers were first introduced to Maia Rindell (Rose Leslie) just as her world was falling apart. A bright law student who had just passed the bar and received a job offer at a large Chicago firm, Maia seemed to have the world at her fingertips, that is, until it came to light that her father (Paul Guilfoyle) had orchestrated an elaborate Ponzi scheme that robbed hundreds of thousands — including her godmother and mentor Diane (Christine Baranski) — of their life savings. Not exactly the best way to enter the working world. However, Maia followed Diane to her new firm and slowly but surely built a solid reputation as a young but smart lawyer, even as she juggled the many stresses of her family’s scandal. At the end of the first season, Maia’s world appeared to come crashing down again when she was arrested for helping cover up the Ponzi scheme on the heels of her father skipping town. After a turbulent first season for her alter-ego, THR jumped on the phone with Leslie to discuss how she channeled her own nerves for Maia’s big breakdown, how those flashbacks in the penultimate episode informed her portrayal and the « more resilient » Maia to come in season two. Going back to the very beginning, how did you hear first hear about the role? How was the character of Maia first described to you? It was a relatively quick turnaround from learning about a character and hopping onto a plane to New York a week later for the next five months. On the phone to [creators and showrunners Robert and Michelle King] and also Brooke Kennedy and some other producers, they were describing the role to me — obviously being a fan of The Good Wife — and very much assured me that we are within the same universe and now it’s with different characters and their own situations. As a result, they determined that Maia was somebody who was tarnished due to her father’s behavior with the revelation of her father’s scam. As a result, she would be forced to mentally and professionally struggle to stay afloat, as well as financially. Learning more about Maia, and knowing what brilliant writers the Kings are, they fully delivered in terms of creating a rounded character with vulnerability in all the right ways. Often when playing a woman in a law firm, there is a temptation to be incredibly strong-willed and domineering and I thought that it was rather interesting to approach this new character as rather wounded and a real representation of someone… Because in my mind, with the character, what would you humanly do if this were to happen to you? You would put up all your barriers in every single aspect of your life and I feel there’s a lot of self-preservation with Maia and I felt that was true in their writing of her. She doesn’t scare easily, but the wind is knocked out of her after the current events with her father. The pilot sees Maia at her absolute lowest, or so we think, when this Madoff scandal is unveiled. How did you get into that headspace in those darker scenes right off the bat? Approaching any role for the first time is always going to be incredibly daunting for any actress or any actor, so that almost aided me in being able to tap into her nervous state of mind. Fortunately, we shot the pilot relatively chronologically. We kind of see Maia as we get introduced to her when life is incredibly blissful and being the daughter of millionaires. So with this massive fall from grace for herself professionally and from her peers as well, and then having to rebuild that respect and that self-worth for herself and the people around her, I really learned who she is and emotionally coming to terms with that. Reading some of the biographies on the Madoff scandal, I was doing my best to tap into the tragedy of events. And hopefully I was able to reflect that onscreen. In the penultimate episode, we suddenly get to learn more about Maia through these flashbacks of her in high school and in college. How did these scenes inform you about the character and change your understanding of the character? Interestingly enough, from a selfish perspective I rather enjoyed getting my hair curled into tight little ringlets and I thought I looked a hell of a lot younger. It kind of reminded me of when I was 16. By the time we were doing flashbacks on set, it informed me that actually denial is such a powerful feeling and I feel that she really allowed herself to fall into that only because she couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that her father might be lying to her and he no longer is the man that she always put on this pedestal. It informed me in terms of, by backpedaling, I realized how one managed to get to the point of, ‘Wait a minute, are you joking?’ This horrific revelation of my father scamming millions and ruining millions of lives can happen right under your nose because if you’re not willing to confront that, it’s easier to sweep that under the carpet and carry on living your glamorous, luxurious lifestyle. The laziness in not wanting to confront the truth was something that struck me, not something that I was prepared for in the role, but it related to me in the devastation of her realizing that she almost was a tiny cork in this ginormous wheel but she really felt the guilt of that because you can be truthful to yourself and you can realize that you turned your head the other way when something was off key and your father deliberately lied to your face. During the first season, Maia’s relationship with her father seemed to be constantly changing. One minute she believes he’s been set-up and then later she realizes it was really his idea. How did you navigate that and find a through line during the first season? I remember when we were shooting it that there was such a kind of fluidity with the destructive relationship that Maia has with her father, in terms of feeling that they’ve gained some trust back and then that’s completely taken away from her with feeling that he almost has duped her by releasing her name. Trying to grapple those feelings was something that I strongly felt should be organic particularly for the scenes. I realized that if I try and block it out too much in my head beforehand, then that wave of shock and paranoia wouldn’t necessarily register just because as Maia, you’re being pulled up and down and left and right like a ragdoll emotionally when she thinks about the way that her father has treated her. I never really wanted to hone in too specifically to how Maia would feel, but particularly when Lucca Quinn [Cush Jumbo] comes in and informs me of the facts that my father has, once again, betrayed my trust, those tears just kind of came up entirely organically just because I felt, ‘Not again, I’m going through this again,’ and it was a real battering of emotions. The penultimate episode is a great example of what the show does well in terms of mixing comedy and drama. Coming from mostly dramatic shows, how was it finding the balance between the dramatic and comedic moments? Shooting with Jane Lynch, I relinquished all control in terms of absolutely allowing the genius that was sitting opposite me to dominate that comedic vein just because that is something that she is so hugely gifted at. I allowed her to go full throttle with it, and in those scenes, I was perfectly comfortable carrying on with the idea that I was backed into a corner and that I was trying to keep a cool head on my shoulders with my heart pounding underneath. I felt that, having watched it, that it was done so brilliantly by Jane and she didn’t even move a muscle when the bird hit the window. She just carried speaking in one of the takes and I just realized I was in the presence of such a brilliant actress. Jumping to the finale, what was your initial reaction when you read that Maia was going to get arrested at the end of the season? I felt with the lead-up to this final scene in the flat, there was an anger rising within Maia, particularly in court and having had that brief interview with Barbara and Adrian saying that they felt that I needed to dig deeper and find some real gravitas as it were, I got rather excited at the realization that, hopefully, this issue that I face particularly at the end of [episode] 10, this huge dilemma that Maia faces, this may be an opportunity for her to evolve and for her to develop stamina far more so than we’ve seen previously. And as a result, really, really begin to make headway with the women she admires within the law firm such as Diane and Barbara and Lucca Quinn. I felt that this was kind of a blank canvas on which Maia can now go into the second season as a more resilient, tougher woman. How much have you talked with the Kings about season two? What can you say about what’s next for Maia in season two? They told me a couple of things that I know would be incredibly spoiler-y so I’m not too sure on whether I can carry on in that vein. But it certainly gave me pure joy and excitement what they foresaw for Maia and also for season two. The Kings are incredibly bold and my God, do I admire them for being so current in the political landscape and holding up that mirror. Simply as a result, it allows the audience to reflect on what’s happening in the real world and gives politicians something to chew over and realize that there are consequences to behavior. I think the Kings are fantastic at representing both sides of the conversation. Looking ahead to season two, who from the show would you like to have more scenes with or is there a specific relationship you’d like to explore more? I would love to see the godmother-goddaughter relationship develop and see Maia lean on Diane. It’s rather fun when all the girls are in the room, with Sarah [Steele] and with Erica [Tazel] and with Cush and with Christine, but I can’t even say that, obviously we’re going to miss Delroy. So I think the cast has a lot of fun when we’re all together so as a result I wholeheartedly trust Robert and Michelle and where they feel the next couple of episodes have to go. How much do you think the show will explore Maia’s relationship with her partner Amy (Helene Yorke) will be explored more in season two? Helene is so much fun, so I love spending time with her and as a result, we very much enjoy working together. Within the first season, we focused on just how solid that relationship is. Obviously it is going to be chipped away by the stresses and the strains of Maia’s personal life along with everything that is going on at work. And so I would love to, when I do go back, really explore that relationship in terms of possibly seeing just how strong a partnership they are. For Maia, it is such a service for her to be able to come back and be with her girlfriend and have a loving world center her because work is so stressful and all different aspects of it. So I wholeheartedly hope that Maia and Amy are able to carry on strong.

[souslejaune]

Auntie Dee Dee’s living room... (Folio 1: Part 2)

ii

Auntie Dee Dee’s living room had the best view of an Accra sunset I had ever seen. Through the hand-polished clarity of her first floor sliding doors, beyond the fragrant haze of the flower-filled porch, the day performed its bedtime rituals.

Amorous cocks strutted their seduction in circles around hens as dust rose from beneath them. The cry of roving fishmongers rose to mingle with the faint smell of bougainvillea – orange and yellow. “Red fish. Last for the day. Cheap red fish.” Shrewd housewives emerged from their homes for these last minute bargains that made chop money last a little bit longer. There was sweat on their bead noses. They had been cooking.

Cooking is why I loved going to Auntie Dee Dee’s. I didn’t go there to see the sun give one last jaundiced wink before it turned steadily red as it submerged itself in the sea. I went there because Auntie Dee Dee was a sorceress whose spells lay in the texture of chopped onions, the mildly singed smell of fried plantain, the spicy tongue of chilli, the slippery kiss of oil… The food of her fingers was edible temptation.

In Ghana, it is understood that such a woman can have any man. A woman who befriends her is said to open the door of her marriage to discontent. But she was my mother’s best friend. They had known each other since they were knee high and my mother insisted that Dee Dee had never stopped eating in all the time she had known her.

Every Friday at 4pm my mother would yell, “Kids, are you ready?” From obscure corners of the house, my sister and I would scream, “Yes.” My father would already be in the car. His pride and joy. A navy blue Datsun 120Y gleaming in the relentless afternoon sun. Polished from roof to tyres. He closed his shop early on Fridays so that he could come home and wash it. He said he didn’t trust me to do it then – maybe later. Naana, my sister, liked to tease him about the car.

“Ei Daddy! Are we using the car today?”

My father would raise his arms in a mockery of prayer. “Dear God, let my next daughter be intelligent! Teach her what it means when I sit in my car and start the engine!”

Our mirth would explode in synchronised chaos. My mother holding her side, my sister shaking her head, me stamping like a victim of soldier ants.

It is not unfair to say my father was protective of his car, but it would be wrong to say he was miserly with it. Although he only used it on weekends he let my mother take it shopping every Wednesday. Women drivers were a rare thing so my mother was a minor star. She was the envy of the market traders who sat outside the main walls of Kaneshie Market and she liked the attention. She took pains to walk round the car, roll all the windows up and lock the doors as the traders chattered.

“O wu sumɔɔ o sane. What a man he must be! Will you buy some tomatoes?”

“Madam, me adamfo, how beautiful you look in your car, my friend. Do you want some Gari today? Only two cedis for one america.”

One america is a uniquely Ghanaian measurement that is equivalent to one full tin of an acceptably large size. It is standardised by neither weight nor volume. I learnt this on my first trip to the market with my mother when I noticed that some traders battered their tins so that they would contain less produce, which they sold for the same price. When I pointed this out to my mother she laughed, jingling the car keys as her dimples caught the attention of the sun.

“The trick is knowing whom to buy from.”

The traders in Kaneshie market shouted out their prices with competitive sideways glances at their rivals. Never missing an opportunity to sell, they could convince the smallest hunchback of their incredible height; such were their powers of flattery. My mother always came home on Wednesdays beaming with childlike smiles. Fully gorged on sweet words.

On Fridays however, we only had one destination – Auntie Dee Dee’s. Usually my father talked politics with her husband, Johnny, who was the Minister for Education, whilst my mother discussed sports and cuisine with Auntie Dee Dee. My mother and Dee Dee both sprinted for Ghana in the 1960s. At the 1965 All Africa Games – the first ever – Auntie Dee Dee made history in the 200 metres semi-finals, becoming the first athlete not to compete for dietary reasons. The food supplies she'd packed from Ghana had run out by then and she couldn't find the right kind of groundnut paste to make the 'reviving' soup she ate with rice or gari at least 10 hours before her race day began. She had hoped to make up for missing out on a medal in Bamako in 1969, but when the games were cancelled because of the overthrow of the socialist government in Mali in 1968, she retired. Often, while catching up with my mother by the earth coloured stove, Auntie Dee Dee would beckon me to her side, put her heavy arm around my neck, and smile down at me. She called me her little husband and liked to play with my unruly Afro, occasionally poking her little finger in my right-side-only dimple. From my vantage point beside Auntie Dee Dee, I could reach out and pilfer some achɔmɔ – sweet fried dough snacks that Auntie Dee Dee never seemed to run out of – and watch Uncle Johnny talking to my father. Uncle Johnny’s parabolic eyebrows made it seem like he was always asking a question. I didn’t talk much. I was six years younger than my sister and I loved to listen to people speak. I liked the sounds of some of the big words they used; like imperative and amralofoi. Sometimes, when I wasn’t enveloped by the mango- and cinnamon-fragranced body mass of Auntie Dee Dee, I watched the sun set with Naana and Uncle-and-Auntie’s son Junior. When the smells started coming from the kitchen, we went to Junior’s room to play games. We needed to. Our parents didn’t like us to run around the kitchen and we always seemed to lose our minds when the smell of fried onions started to waft.

._.

In the first few years of my life that was Friday for me. Sunsets and full stomachs.

I got an early birthday card for my seventh birthday. It came on November 15, 1981 – a week early. It was in a textured cream envelope with a glittering red star stuck on the V of the seal.

I had been in a low mood for a few days; I couldn't explain why and my mother had been worried about me. I was lethargic and completely disinterested in things which usually excited me – like football and throwing stones. She asked me if I was ill and checked my temperature – normal. But it was clear that did not satisfy her. Her round face had a pinch in it, like a balloon in the clutches of a clothes peg. Naana always said Mummy looked as though she was in labour every time one of us got hurt, or got into trouble – as though she was reliving the moments of our birth. With no clear symptoms for my condition, she forced me to take an aspirin just in case. A few minutes after she gave me the tablets, I got heartburn and she panicked.

“Oh, Kojo.” She turned to my father with a hand on her mouth, her voice shrill. “Have I poisoned him? Should we call your mother?”

My father, son of a nurse, responded with the calm of his mother. “Relax, Sarah, he probably took the tablet too quickly. He’ll be fine.” He turned to me. “Ebo, does it hurt a lot?”

I shook my head. Trying to be brave.

Naana and my father tried to cheer me up by making funny faces, but my laughter had lost its energy. I wasn’t even ticklish anymore. Eventually they all gave up.

However when the early birthday card arrived a day later, my eyes lit up; so, although my mother wouldn’t normally have given the card to me until my actual birthday, she handed it to me. I ripped the envelope with a fork from our kitchen and pulled out the card. It had Pink Panther on the front and one hundred cedis inside. It was signed, Your favourite Auntie, Dee Dee.

“Mummy look! One hundred cedis!” I came alive like a fanned fire. For the first time I noticed the red serial number on a hundred cedi note.

“Ooh, lucky boy, let me keep it for you.”

My mother snatched it from me with a smile.

She had a trick with money. You always managed to spend it before she was due to give it back to you. It faded into the background like a country's history. If it were in a forest, it would be one amongst the leaves that cushion the forest floor – you would know it was there, but who could find it? The money became the last pack of sweets you had, or the cost of the new socks you were wearing; I knew I’d lost that money forever.

“Mummy, can I call Auntie Dee Dee to thank her?”

“Of course.”

The telephone rang and rang. No one picked up.

My father came home crying that day. Within minutes my mother was crying too. The news and its companion tears soon spread to Naana and I.

Auntie Dee Dee had had a heart attack whilst cooking. She was alone at home and died. The next day my mother gave me back the money Auntie Dee Dee had sent me. She mumbled something about last wishes and how the dead always knew things. Blowing her nose with a tear-sodden handkerchief, she took out the battered address book she kept by her side of the bed, called the friends she and Dee Dee had grown up with, and started planning the funeral. With every call, she cried again, as though Auntie Dee Dee had just died. She relived her devastation with each memory of Auntie Dee Dee rekindled by another friend. By evening my mother looked five years older; she could barely do anything without sobbing, so my father became her. His grief was a warm silence. He served us food, held our hands and made our mother endless glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice with lime. It was all she wanted. The sight of food intensified her grief. Naana and I grew red-eyed from watching our parents cry, wondering what our playmate Junior would do without a mother. We went to bed with headaches.

People converged on Auntie Dee Dee’s funeral in migratory bird fashion. In shining red and black mourning plumage. Wax prints so fresh that you could still smell the ink on them. Dutch prints quickly learning the language of African sun as they soaked up the sweat of grieving bodies. The women had quarter pieces of cloth show-boated into elaborate headgear, which they bore as heavily as their grief. The men carried themselves with a grace that belied the casual toss of dark Adinkra cloths over their left shoulders. I looked for Junior in the dark forest of tearful bodies but he was nowhere to be found. Uncle Johnny sat by the dead body; shoulders bent, clad in black, fossilised by sorrow, his eyebrows at odds with his tears.

My mother made me file past the dead body. Not caring for my seven-year-old sensitivity. Ostensibly for my own good. The waache seller down our road, who was single-handedly responsible for daily lunchtime pilgrimages of men from the Industrial Area, explained it to me later.

“If you don’t see a dead person in their coffin, there is a possibility they will visit you.”

Actually, I wouldn’t have minded a visit from Auntie Dee Dee. I had questions for her.

Anyway, I filed past the body; keeping my eyes down, trained on the gleaming black traditional slippers the adults were wearing. I only got a glance. She was adorned in all her finery, gold rings and a stiff smile. There was a red handbag trapped under her left arm to match the red dress she had been stuffed into. Red was her favourite colour.

“Quel gachis!”

It was the first time I heard French spoken properly. Auntie Dee Dee’s grandfather was French, and one of her cousins had travelled all the way from Paris to demonstrate his love by shaving his armpits to wear cloth the Ghanaian way.

Quel gachis! My father translated it later. What a waste! It sounded so much better in French. English just didn’t have the right sound for it. I resolved to learn French.

—–

continued >> here << ... | start from beginning?  | current projects: The City Will Love You and a collection of poems, The Geez

[the-under-archon]

.:Pinnacle:. (AU2)

Characters: Torioi Mitsue (cultivator, AU...Mitsue), Koremune Satoru (cultivator, AU Sohza’a), Torioi Hideo & Kiyo (clan heads, AU variants), Torioi Shinya (AU Sari)

Warning(s): Vague sexy times, some violence.

Origin Date: 19 April 2019

The cultivators of Katsuragi Peak were the examples of what discipline should be in an ever-changing world. Steadfast as the mountain they called home, unrelenting as ice in the face of their morals. The heir to this bloodline finds himself tested sorely in the face of a visiting disciple. And it would be his downfall.

(Part of the AU2 arc with @ninetales-carbuncle which was inspired by Mo Dao Zu Shi concepts and practices. Which I admit I borrowed a lot from Gusu Lan Sect.)

----♦•♦----

Mitsue wasn’t quite sure when he started watching the Koremune heir. It was the usual turn of the year that saw the Katsuragi Peak open for trainees of other clans. Summer on the high mountain still held a bit of a chill but it was negligible, especially to those that spend their entire lives in the seclusion the blessed grounds bestowed upon them.

 This day he’d been oddly free of his duties, assigned to attend the latest class of cultivators as a senior disciple. It also helped for the future heir to observe and learn the methods and mannerisms of the minor sects that made up Japan’s cultivation base. All were aware that the old ways were slowly dying in this modern world. People were so caught up in their cell phones, televisions, fashion, love affairs…they had no cares, or even awareness, of the things that lurked about them.

 Thus education was even more important than it had ever been in history, or so the Katsuragi held firmly to that belief. Being one of the eldest sects with one of the oldest bloodlines that rivaled the Akiyama and the Hanahara, it wasn’t uncommon to foster students just as the others did. Each clan had their specialties and particular disciplines.

 Here, there was no leniency. A strict code of conduct, a need for respect and decorum, and obedience to your seniors and the old ways reined atop this peak. Already Mitsue could tell /that/ man would have a difficult time with them. Most of the students chattered away as they strolled about the stone paths that curled about the varying layers of elevation that made up this place. They were new, they’d learn.

 So many colors from so many clans. It was nearly blinding. The Katsuragi wore white and grey as befitting their worship of the snow, ice, wind, and water. It was a constant devotion to the power of this mountain and its sisters. When the turn of the seasons came and the pilgrimages began, it was more like spring than summer with all the colors.

 Oddly enough, the loudest of the group wore dark green and brown. Rather muted but strong colors. He was a magnetic personality among his peers in the same garb. A good leader he would be having the hearts of his clan already. But would he have the discipline and patience needed to head a family in a world where such things were rapidly dissolving?

 Mitsue frowned, his arms in the long sleeves of his pure white robes. Pale of flesh, hair as white as snow, eyes grey as mountain stone, he was the epitome of the Torioi bloodline and perfectly bred. With a sharp intelligence and steadfast devotion he’d taken well to the cultivation arts and would be the quintessential example of a firstborn son.

 But of all the visitors, Koremune Satoru kept his attention.

----♦•♦----

Mitsue may have been a stubborn and unmovable force of discipline and study, but he wasn’t naïve. He noticed how his gaze lingered on Satoru’s hands as he wrote, how the scent of pine trees seemed to follow the energetic man, how his dark hair shone under the sun when he spun on his foot to harass one of his friends.

 There was affection there. And what did Mitsue do? Stomp it down. Relationships were forbidden as a disciple within the Katsuragi. The focus should be study, not romance. Devotion, not intimacy. Once he was recognized as fully-fledged cultivator perhaps one day he would be able to wear his hair down from its hightail, the sign that he was bound to another.

 But not now as a teenager in the throes of study. And that irritated him. So much so that whenever he heard that chirp of his voice, his grip tightened enough about his inkbrush that it snapped. There was a small pile of poor broken things accumulating on his desk much to the concern of the instructor. Likely that would be reported to his parents later.

 ----♦•♦----

 “Torioi-san, eh?”

 Mitsue blinked and looked up from his book. He’d taken to reading outside this afternoon, the sun high and warm and the blossoms of summer in full decadence. Fingers tightened about the spine of the old text. He should correct the lack of proper address to an heir in his home but that didn’t fly to his tongue as it normally would. “Yes? Koremune-san, correct?” Of course he knew who this was, fortunately his neutral expression didn’t give away that small wiggle of panic.

 Satoru just grinned and plopped down, looking over the pages of Mitsue’s book. The close presence made the Torioi tense further. That scent of deep forests, evergreens, it filled his senses. It would be easy to lower his head, to take that scent in close in that dark hair.

 “Oh, that’s the homework that’s not due for a month, right? And you’re doing it already?” A curious tilt of his head, an almost cat-like motion.

 He resisted nibbling his lip in his nerves. A habit his mother had pointed out…and made a point to correct him on every time he was caught in the motion. “Yes.” A simple answer, he could do this. But on a passing thought, he raised an eyebrow. “How do you know the readings so far in advance?”

 “Oh, I did it already.” That bright grin again and Mitsue watched as the other disciple pulled away to flop on the grass, arms behind his head. There he lay to bask like some feline in the sun. “What did you think about the concepts of application to the wrathful spirit in the Mo HaoChen example? Seems like they did it all wrong, don’t you think?”

 A surprised blink. Did…this lackadaisical goof already get that far? Truly? Or was this some bluff? The book rested on his lap. “They followed the proper order. They couldn’t predict that a demonic cultivator had been the orchestrator of events in that village. It was approached as a singular event, not as the spark that would set the region in the middle of a five year-long battle of sects.”

 “Ha, so you can say more than five words!” One of those violet eyes peeked open, a grin on those lips. “We were taking bets. Honestly I thought you were mute at first until Taira-sensei called on you. Even heirs aren’t exempt from answering questions in class, huh? Didn’t expect that here.”

 There was an inkling of irritation as he looked down to that amused expression. Did they all think he was privileged because of his future position? That he would be exempt from the same examinations and rigors that everyone else was? No. If anything they were harsher! He opened his mouth to retort before a finger was held up in his face.

 “And you get angry! You sit back there like some statue all of the time. Though I know you get pissed off. Your right eye twitches a bit when you think someone’s doing something stupid. Look, it’s doing it right now!” Satoru cackled.

 With a ‘hmph’ Mitsue closed his book and went to stand much to the puzzled expression of the other teenager. “You’re annoying,” he mumbled before walking off.

 The victorious laughter that followed his departure down the path did indeed make that eye twitch.

 ----♦•♦----

 It was against the rules.

 It would be easy to place all the blame on Satoru but as Mitsue enjoyed the sounds the smaller man made beneath him…well, it was hard to say he /wasn’t/ involved. Their trysts were quiet, secret, and secluded. Fortunately growing up on this mountain gave knowledge of many places to hide. It was against all of the discipline that the Torioi had obeyed all his life but yet he’d given in to temptation. It didn’t help that the other was /always/ around, always at his side, always trying to poke him. But time revealed that Satoru was /incredibly/ intelligent despite his personality.

 In fact it had been an evening study session in the library that had led to Mitsue finally giving in and landing a chaste kiss on that olive-toned cheek. Mortified by his own actions, it had been assuaged when he’d received that surprised look, a grin, and a reciprocation on the lips. It had taken time to progress to something more physical but continued study sessions had evolved to…well study of a different kind for the two teenagers.

 The first time Mitsue had returned to his room mortified, as if his mother’s fury would come crashing down and he would be made to do handstands on their family pond that never melted from freezing ice. His current record was two days and he didn’t want to extend that. Kami help him, it would be at least a /month/ if he’d been found out. Punishment never came as the secret remained just that…secret. Fear was replaced with a warmth in his chest that Mitsue wasn’t used to.

 He was aware of what love was, the sect wasn’t /that/ harsh. And he loved his parents with all he had. He loved this place. And one day he would marry and love whoever was chosen for him. But this was different. It sent his heart racing whenever he sat near Satoru in class. It made him ache as they had to pretend to just be two disciples in study in that large classroom full of so many differently colored robes. And it made him lose all control when they were finally alone and those violet eyes danced in mirth and want when Satoru reached for his hand.

 But the year was almost at a close. The snow was melting, spring in full bloom. Summer would be upon the Peak soon. Grey eyes almost glared at the flowers dancing in the wind outside until a hand on his side pulled him from his musing. They’d taken to one of the caves hidden near the main river that wound down the mountain where little foot traffic passed.

 “You’re going to set that poor tree alight if you keep looking at it like that,” the dark-haired man purred.

 With a sigh, Mitsue lay down again. The two lay bare on a blanket, curled against each other. The chill didn’t bother the Torioi but Satoru had never really learned to love the cold of the mountain. He had a tendency to burrow as closely into the taller broader man as he could. The Koremune son was of slight build, made for agility, for sneaking into places he shouldn’t be. Meanwhile his lover was growing into a broad frame, a body trained from the strict discipline of his sect. They were opposites in every way, perhaps it’s why they’d ended up like this.

 “Summer’s here,” Mitsue muttered, an arm under his head as he lay on his side to allow his lover to soak up his body heat again.

 Which Satoru gladly did, pressed firmly against that pale skin. “Not yet. We have a month. And we have to make it worth it.” A small sigh. Jovial he may seem, a sense of duty did hang over him. “Otou-san says the fighting’s getting worse back home. Something has the undead stirred up. Add that to the damned Ninmyo poking about. You know I’ll have to head back right away.”

 Mitsue elected not to answer in the moment. The struggle of smaller clans was something he knew of but would likely never experience. As the cultivation world grew smaller and smaller and inherent talent dwindled, skirmishes weren’t uncommon between the minor clans to swell their numbers. Usually it was attempted politically at first through marriages and alliances. But the Koremune and Ninmyo had never gotten along with their close proximity. It wouldn’t be surprising if they were purposely luring undead towards the other village.

 “You could stay here,” he finally mumbled. Even as the words left his lips, Mitsue knew they were fruitless.

 As if Satoru could sense that, he didn’t tease. Just a small chuckle, warm breath against the body he was almost desperately burrowed against.

 It wouldn’t be that easy. And they both knew it.

 ----♦•♦----

The cold had never bothered Mitsue. But there was some chill in the air that got to him nowadays in the wake of the summer’s students leaving. They were still disciples but much more learned than they’d arrived. He could still remember that day they left. Knowing that he’d likely be unable to keep that neutral expression in place, the Torioi had watched the class depart from a high ledge. He hoped Satoru wouldn’t mind. Likely not...he was a smart man and would know exactly why that white-clad figure wasn’t in the group at the end of that last day.

It had been five years since then. Correspondence had been regular, intimate words hidden between pages of official reporting and boring dribble. Things were constant and unchanging atop Katsuragi Peak. It wasn’t so below the mountain’s shadow. The letters that would arrive once a week dwindled to two weeks. Then a month. And now it had been half a year since Mitsue had seen the familiar sloppy scrawl of his lover. The Koremune clan was a week away by flying sword, a few weeks by boat down the river.

So why had things stopped? Mitsue found himself clinging to news during the daily meals with his parents who were much more engaged in the going-ons of the other cultivation bases. They traveled frequently as representatives and still participated in night hunts. How he found out disaster had come was from eavesdropping on some of the newest disciples.

Angry spirits had multiplied significantly in Koremune territory, finally overwhelming the clan. It was as if some power had come into the Ninmyo’s hands to turn the years of deadlock. Mitsue was gone into the night he’d heard the news.

What an influence Satoru had been on the ‘good heir.’ First those summer days and now stealing away from his home the farthest he’d ever been on a rumor. Rennai was swift beneath his feet, the silvery blade his constant companion over the years. The dark landscape flew by. Places he’d never seen and still didn’t spare a glance to. All that mattered was getting to that village. All his focus put into the sword to urge it as fast he could. A week was nothing, he wouldn’t pause

----♦•♦----

The Koremune territory was a farming community at heart to adjust to the changing times. Nestled in hills, rice paddies had been perfectly tiered and tediously tended to under the protective gaze of the head family. That was all gone now. The terraces had been torn apart, water lay murky black, and the bodies lay about everywhere.

Mitsue looked down at the carnage, gasping for breath. He’d flew for as long as his body would let him, only resting in brief stops. What had he expected here...? Something better than this? What a fool he’d been. He leaned heavily on Rennai, the sword’s sheath resting as a support on the ground. The pristine appearance of the Torioi heir was haphazard, hair fallen from his hightail, robes uneven, and dirt on his face.

There was no movement below in the growing evening that overshadowed the village. What had been done here had been done days ago, a week ago, maybe more. There were no embers or cinders, no last pockets of resistance. It was all still, ash and debris and bodies and death. The aura of resentful energy could still be felt and the studious eye of Mitsue, even in his grief, could tell some of those many bodies had at one time risen in attack.

The Ninmyo had a demonic cultivator. Or more than one with the number of corpses about. Had they been so desperate to turn to that foul forbidden practice? Had it been truly worth it to fall so far from the righteous path to gain control of a neighbor in a world where all of their bonds were so frail already?

What sense did this make? /None./

There were tears on his face that he wasn’t aware had even fallen leaving marks on the dust that marred his pale skin. Hands shook on Rennai and it was difficult to breathe.

He had to find Satoru. Somehow. If he...if he’d fallen among this mess, Mitsue would make sure his soul would find rest. Maybe he could even lay to rest this entire battlefield. It was all he could do.

----♦•♦----

They’d lingered.

Filthy plunderers, greedy men that looted the small amount of magical artifacts that the Koremune had. The clan wasn’t a hugely rich one but it was comfortable enough to survive to the modern age, supplemented with its agricultural base. 

How could those damn Ninmyo /justify/ rooting about the dead, taking anything of value, not even just cultivator tools?! Jewelry, clothes, heirlooms. Mitsue didn’t even know he was moving. He wasn’t even aware of Rennai’s pure blade drawing human blood, easily parting flesh of a screaming man. A blade that had been blessed to exorcise evil now turned on mortal life.

Mitsue didn’t care. These men were evil. How could the desecrate a place like this? HOW COULD THEY BE SO GREEDY AND FOUL?! He was well-trained and strong. His movements were quicker than any normal human, the white of his robes bright in the gloom. There was no chance for retaliation. Some didn’t even get a chance to scream, to draw their own weapon in self-defense.

He cut then down.

Every.

Single.

One.

And he wasn’t even breathless from the effort as he stood in the square of the destroyed village. His grip was tight on Rennai, the jade-enlaid hilt slick with blood. Human blood. Some part of him could feel the blade’s distaste, flickering internally of its fraying bond with its cultivator. It was screaming for him to stop. But he didn’t.

Those grey eyes were like ice as he spotted movement. More looters. And so he attacked again, a herald of destruction come from its mountain to lay these corrupt souls to rest.

When all stilled, he turned west. The village of the Ninmyo clan was that way. Also agricultural, his well-trained mind recalled the facts.

Rennai wouldn’t rise to his call to carry him there. Fine, he’d walk. Nothing would stop him from cleansing this FILTH that took his loved one away.

----♦•♦----

So many fell by his sword that his arm began to fail from even his expert and effortless strikes. First it was just their cultivators. But he didn’t stop there. He was numb.

Even the enchantments of those Katsuragi robes had begun to fail, the cloth’s pristine glow stained with red at its edges, random splatter darkening the grey of its lining. The cries of his victims, innocent ones but he didn’t care, didn’t still his hand.

He was tired. Were they all gone now? Rennai was dead in his hand, just a piece of metal. It had sealed itself off from the corruption of its master to protect itself. Fine. All he needed was an edge.

A grip to his arm and he shook it off, the dripping blade raised to retaliate. But the hold returned, strong. Another gifted.

“Mitsue! STOP!”

Eyes focused to see the brilliant white before him. White cloth, loose snowy hair, pale skin, wide afraid blue eyes. One of the few men taller than him. And everything just came crashing down. There should be a fear of retribution. Of what he’d done. But the ever-dutiful son couldn’t cling to that. Instead fingers clenched into his father’s robes just so he could stay on his feet. Words struggled to  leave; apologies, demands, curses. But they couldn’t escape his lips.

Torioi Hideo’s hand traveled down Mitsue’s sword arm, long fingers threading through the other’s to make him loosen his hold on that sealed blade. It fell to the dirt with a hollow sound. Arms hugged the blood-covered figure close, his other hand resting on the back of his son’s head. As if hiding his face could make this all go away.

The clan leader looked to the mess. The sorrow, the blood. Were there any survivors? Kami help them. The repercussions of this would be... Fingers tightened in the crimson-tinged strands of the crying man.

Where Lady Torioi Kiyo was a cold fire that burned fiercely, Hideo was the soothing water that flowed dutifully along its path without pause. Both were steadfast and traditional despite their duality and were a perfect union because of such things.

“Let’s go home, Mitsue. You need rest.” An understatement to what would happen. But for now, this was needed. The aftermath would come swiftly enough. And it would be fierce.

There was no fight from the young man, he had nothing left to give, nothing left to fight.

----♦•♦----

There had been no survivors reported from the Katsuragi that surveyed the area in the days past. They hadn’t been told of how the massacre occurred, just told to reconnoiter the area. However the trained eyes could tell something had happened that wasn’t the cause of restless or vengeful spirits. The disciplined cultivators laid the spirits to rest the best they could without protest and then departed, leaving no sign to what had exterminated an entire minor clan.

Rumors floated among the younger disciples unfortunately. It couldn’t be helped. They were human, they were from the more modern world where gossip was common and quick to spread. It didn’t help that Torioi Mitsue suddenly disappeared from the public eye.

Five years of seclusion. It had been an order but he’d taken it without protest. That along with fifty lashes by his father’s hand and all the privileges of his station temporarily suspended. Rennai had been taken to be purified. The blade was a remnant of the ancient Chinese cultivation sects, it was too precious to be discarded. Hopefully it could be awakened again.

The man that had emerged from seclusion was soulless, wandering about the family household as if a ghost. Then he’d met Shinya. The boy had been taken in during his years of seclusion. Still in his single digits, the dark-haired child clung to Kiyo as if she were his birth mother. And that fearsome warrior of a woman treated him as she did her own flesh and blood, gentle but firm, loving but guiding. Watching such a thing finally brought a bit of life back to the eldest son.

Shinya was so small, so skittish. Peering up at Mitsue’s tall form with that one bright blue gaze, half his face hidden under a medicated cloth. He’d been told that the child had been found in the Ghost Markets to be picked apart for his spiritual energy, bit by bit. The eyes were an amazing reservoir of spiritual energy and one had been plucked out already by some evil being. Fortunately Kiyo had found him before anything else could happen.

This he would protect. His sins couldn’t be erased even if his parents had done their best to keep the rumors in control. He’d always know what he’d done. But when Mitsue walked about the Peak with the young boy in his arms, he could forget for a bit.

This boy with hair as dark as ink, just like another man he knew with laughing violet eyes.

This he would protect.

[armageddon-generation]

Wildehopps AUs

HANNIBAL AU

- Judy is a young, fresh faced Will: she is talented but inexperienced, who has the ability to fully empathise with anyone (including serial killers) and uses this understanding to catch them

- Nick is Hannibal , but he only kills other killers (but isn’t excused)

- Bogo is Jack Crawford and throws Judy in the deep end

- Causes a lot of resentment from more experienced detectives

- Bellwether is Freddy Lounds

- Themes of deep isolation from Judy’s family and workmates

- Nick is brought on as a psychological consultant to monitor Judy’s mental health - She is initially extremely tight-lipped due to Gideon incident, and Nick complains to Bogo that he is aware that Nick is the worst mammal for the job (“Yeah, well I thought she was the worst mammal for her job, but she keeps proving me wrong.”)

- Nick trial runs therapy by helping Judy overcome her phobia of foxes (with a case going on in the background: Nick wants to help but Judy is initially too stubborn)

- Nick is fascinated by Judy as a psychological miracle/oddity (“You toe the line between saviour and psychopath every day, Miss Hopps. Any therapist worth his salt would pay his bottom dollar to get at the soup of psychoses and environmental influences swimming around in your head ”)

- They have some interesting conversations about the differences between pred psychology vs prey (spoiler alert: there really aren’t that many) and, more importantly, how Nick being a predator affects his pred patients differently to the prey (it’s actually not always positive because the preds expect him to be more of a friend than a therapist)

- Nick has lots of prey patients because he enjoys the primal power therapy gives him over them: physical hunting may have been lost to time, but he can still make prey submit. Preds make him antsy and ready for a fight, like he’s afraid they’ll steal his kill

- Judy challenges him though. Her outsider status and genuine uniqueness already makes Nick regard her as an equal, and the way she challenges him and genuinely wants to learn from him is refreshing

- Nick starts subtly training Judy (without her knowing) in the ways of the serial killer

- The idea of them becoming soulmates because they are the only ones who understand each other, but their relationship transcending sex and pure physicality: a romance of the mind

- Nick and Judy have a ‘no touching ’ rule. Judy thinks Nick just hates physical contact, but Nick doesn’t want to be tempted into 'playing’ with her

- Pred/prey prejudice is very strong so everyone has massive respect for Nick, who hides himself in a shroud of high culture

- Manchas’ savage attacks lead to Judy’s first kill (under Nick’s in-the-moment instruction, which saves her life

- Savage Manchas haunts Judy’s dreams from this point on like the Murder Stag does Will’s

- As a result (and for the first time going against his impulse to keep Judy close and under his thumb) Nick recommends she moves back to Bunnyburrow and commutes to work

- Doing so highlights how this life is isolating Judy from her family (she feels like a ghost in her own home, surrounded by people). The others are slightly scared of her, and quickly give up trying to talk to her about her problems because every time they do Judy ends up talking about the atrocities of serial killers in a horrifyingly casual, offhand way

- When the ZPD discovers that the Nighthowlers that infected Manchas can infect prey too, Judy starts having nightmares of becoming a predator

- Judy’s parents wake her after she has a violent nightmare, concerned. When Judy explains what the nightmare was about they are horrified, and Judy feels the need to defend predators (pulling from her conversations with Nick about how pred/prey psychology is the same

-Judy attempts to use this as an opportunity to patch up her strained relationship with her parents, but they only think she’s odd for defending predators, whom they assume are the majority of the killers she catches (does she want to be a predator? They ask themselves)

- After her parents leave Judy has a very sensual dream about turning into a fox

- Judy has never been one to beat around the bush and tells Nick during their next therapy session “I think I’m infatuated with you ”

- Nick has her recount the dream (idk but think really classy phone sex? It’s the first time he’s ever been made interested in something romantically/sexually before that wasn’t killing)

- They have a discussion afterwards (a “how does that make you feel session that goes both ways) and Judy swears she is this close to leaping from her chair and tearing Nick’s clothes off, but she is unsure/inexperienced and Nick is unable to reciprocate (no touching rule)

- Nick uses this as an opportunity to undo his 'mistake’ in recommending Judy stay at the farm, and manipulate her further away from her family so she can stay with him

- Hannibal is famous for it’s inventive bodies, so how about a killer that weaves a tapestry of his career using the fur of his victims? Or a body inspired by the ‘There Was An Old Woman Who Swallowed A Fly’ nursery rhyme; a body within a body, within a body, like a Russian nesting doll, with a mouse as the smallest inner layer and an elephant as the largest outer layer.

- Nick has to visit the Hopps family farm once to pick Judy up (reluctantly forced to by Bogo, who has no-one spare to send) and looks upon the family as a predator. Bonnie and Stu genuinely fear him behind his icy sharp politeness

- But as soon as Judy comes down the stairs he relaxes/switches on the charm, and she is incredibly relieved to see a friendly face (in her family home, that’s how bad things are) she tackle-hugs him and breaks the no-touching rule, and Nick is shocked when he doesn’t feel the need/desire to hurt her

- Judy’s parents try to pull her away and attempt to scent mark her as a way of protection, and now Nick sees red and impulsively marks Judy as his territory in front of her family

- Judy is surprisingly non-reactive and drags Nick out before her family can recover from the shock

- In the car ("I apologise”/“If you don’t mean it don’t bother. The 'safe space’ thing wasn’t working anyway. I won’t be going back there again.” / “They’re your family, Judith.”/“They used to be. In the end I was just weighing them down. So…”(she sniffs mark he’s smeared all down the left side of her face experimentally, “does this mean I have a new safe space?”/“No.”/“Seriously?”/“I’m dangerous Hopps.”/“Maybe I like danger.”/“Those are called suicidal thoughts. I can treat them if you like.”/“Maybe I don’t want to be cured.”/“Then you’re so crazy even I can’t help you.”/“But- Argh, fine, but if you’re going to do this you’re going to stick to it. Promise me. No more temptation, because I will not take it. I will not let you be that cruel for both our sakes.”/“… I promise.”)

- Judy sort of realises who Nick is, but really doesn’t want to admit it to herself because he’s the cornerstone of her life- this relationship touches on co-dependency

- Eventually she goes and confesses to him that she knows, and he makes her promise to let someone else catch him before running

- Jack Savage then plays a game of cat and mouse with Nick across the globe

HITCH AU

- A Hopps family friend is getting married and one of Judy’s sisters is desperate to get married to a buck who’s never noticed her

- On a trip to Zootopia for the hen party she meets and hires Nick, a professional matchmaker

- The sister brings Nick down to Bunnyburrow, where the whole Hopps family (including Judy, on a week off work)

- Nick and Judy pretty much hate each other- Judy thinks he preys on the same stereotypes that plague her at the ZPD and Nick declares Judy the most “Un-romantic person in the world”

- Judy and Nick give the sister conflicting advice on how to pursue the relationship: Judy recommends charging right in because she doesn’t have much regard for emotional nuance. Nick thinks romance is just a bunch of cliches to string together the right way It turns out a measure halfway between the two works best

- Judy has brought work home with her to the wedding rehearsal (a smuggling ring) and effectively bores/scares off every buck who tries to make a move on her

- Nick buts in and uses his people skills to make a break in the case. Then, as payback, Judy agrees to let him teach her how to flirt. He uses her to bait away a buck who is trying to interrupt Judy’s sister moving on the guy she likes, and is caught off guard by how good she is

- Judy begrudgingly admits that there is some depth/use to what Nick does, and corners him into teaching her how to read people and situations like he can so she can be a better cop.

- They test out a lot of these techniques on each other, which gradually start to have a greater and greater effect on them- they start falling for each other

- Nick spends so much time focusing on other people’s emotions he doesn’t pay any attention to his own: it’s only when Judy gets perceptive enough that she realises, and then he denies everything because the whole point of him learning how to manipulate emotions was to ‘never let them see that they get to you"

- Their argument jeopardises Judy’s sister’s emerging relationship, which makes Judy feel terrible and Nick considers cutting and running to save his professional reputation

- During the wedding the sister and her crush go completely off Nick’s recommended script and confess love for each other, which spurs Judy into confessing/announcing/demanding an answer from Nick

- Over the course of the story Nick teaches Judy that it’s OK to relax and be ‘normal’ sometimes, and Judy teaches Nick that honest emotion isn’t for suckers

MOB LAWYER/PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR AU

- Judy gets refused a place at the ZPD so becomes a PI

- Bellwether meets Judy as she’s being released from ZPD interrogation: Judy managed to illegally get through seven layers of security at a five star hotel to take photos of a businessman cheating (“And how did you do that dear?” / “Oh, you’d be amazed how many people will believe a bunny is a private prostitute. After that they tend to stop asking questions.”)

- Bellwether hires Judy under the pretext of finding Mr Otterton (“I think someone more our size would be better dear, but best to keep it hush-hush”) and attempts to slowly convert her to the anti-predator cause: She sees a potential ally in Judy.

- This is Judy’s first real case and she’s already on the verge of being evicted, so she jumps at it. Bellwether gives her some fake leads.

- When we meet him Nick is a widower with a mid-teenage daughter

- Nick is an independent attorney, fighting his way to and through law school from a disadvantaged, crime dominated background

- He was offered places at two big firms when he left law school, but refused because one wanted to use his species as a publicity stunt while not trusting him with serious work, while the other assumed as a fox he would be on board to do all their under-the-table dirty work

- For a time he really tried to fight the good fight, but he was taking on more pro bono than paying cases, then his wife got sick with cancer

- Finnick (an old friend from school) offers him a way out by working for Mr Big

- He manages to support her this way for a while, then she died and he was left devastated with a daughter to support- he continued working for Big

- Big is interested in the missing mammal case because of the Otterton /Manchas connection- tells Nick to cover it up

- He and Judy clash over their opposing goals …

- But when the ZPD gets involved they work together to outwit them (Nick saves Judy from the interrogation room, but the cop present comments on how she looks so annoyed she might prefer to stay there)

- Judy doesn’t tell Bellwether about Nick because she doesn’t want to look weak

- Judy is initially disgusted with Nick and his mob ties, but is slowly modified as he demonstrates his close and genuinely caring relationship with members of the community

- He is working from inside the mob to renegotiate Big’s protection rackets so their victims get a fairer deal (“Look , it ain’t pretty, but this way I get to keep food on the table and help the people who need it. Fighting crime is like fighting cancer; sometimes it’s all you can do to minimise the pain” / “I refuse to believe that” / “That’s on you, darling”)

- Nick admits he’s impressed by Judy’s ability to be immediately likeable to everyone she meets (which opens a lot of doors) and her determination to keep going when they stay closed, but pokes fun at her relative inexperience with law in practice (“You’re the hammer, I’m the scalpel.” / “Well, you’re definitely a tool”) - A dichotomy emerges between the polar influences of Bellwether and Nick: Initially Judy really admires Bellwether, but as the moral complexities of Nick’s position become clear to her (and Bellwether continues to refuse to empathise with predators as a whole) Judy’s alligences begin to shift.

- Case takes more time, but they stay in contact over the three months, and are gradually forced closer and closer together

- Judy begins to slip into Nick’s casual conversation with his daughter, who acts as Nick’s reality checker/moral compass and is pretty much the parent of the two

- One night during month 1, Judy has a breakthrough and comes to Nick’s apartment (“How the hell did you get here? Are you stalking me?” / “I’m a PI, Nick, I’m a professional stalker”) and is shocked to meet Nick’s daughter for the first time (“You have a daughter?” / “I’m trying not to be offended by your surprise, Carrots.” / “Sorry, I just figured you as more of the one and done type.” / “Tsk tsk, Carrots, buying in to offensive stereotypes. Foxes mate for life.”

- Daughter coerces Nick into offering/Judy into accepting staying for dinner

- Nick is completely oblivious, but Judy is extremely aware she’s only about nine years older than this girl and damn if she isn’t intimidating

- Daughter reveals she’s really grateful to Judy for bringing the noble side of her dad back

- The breakthrough Judy has is the first time they are drawn away from Bellwether’s fake line of enquiry and onto the real thing: Judy doesn’t have the opportunity to tell her because of the secretive nature of their relationship

- Over the next few weeks Judy and the daughter develop a close (texting) relationship: Daughter is grateful Judy is here now because it lets her stop being so responsible and get on with being a normal teenager

- They start to open up to each other about family, and Judy offers some insights into the mind of a teenage girl from her vast experience as an older sister (“You’d be a really good Mom” / “Yeah well, I kinda missed my chance” / “You’re kidding, you’re not even thirty yet!” / “Yeah well, in Bunnyburrow if you don’t pair up by the time you’re twenty, you’re pretty much guaranteed to be a spinster”)

- Now she understands his motivations, Judy is much more open to Nick, though he shoots her down whenever she suggests getting out of the mob (“Giving up working for the Bigs means giving up a lot of other things too. Namely breathing.”)

- During this time Bellwether becomes frustrated that Judy is not being converted/is drifting away, and Judy begins to see her true colours.

- Judy goes to Bellwether with all her evidence and it’s while she’s in her office with her that she puts everything together.

- When they find out it’s Bellwether Big orders Nick not to continue: Big doesn’t want to get mixed up in a political scandal

- During the moment of indecision this causes Judy goes it alone and gets caught trespassing in City Hall. Nick goes to bail her out (the same cop on duty as the first time, who almost doesn’t recognise them their relationship has evolved so much) when Big threatens his daughter - This is what causes Judy to leave for Bunnyburrow: The impossible choice between Nick’s daughter or Bellwether.

- Nick’s daughter demands a say in this when he reveals Judy is gone (“Mom would be ashamed of what you’ve become.” / “Mom would recognise that you’re more important than anyone else.” / “If I’m so important, why aren’t you listening to me?” / “Because you don’t know what you need.” / “Jee, patronising much? Look, I have friends at school who’ve been assaulted for their species. I’ve seen friends driven to the gangs because they’ve had no other choice, just like you. People I know have died -” / “Who!?” / “It doesn’t matter, and the point is it doesn’t matter because nobody else cares. Don’t you get it? This isn’t just them you’re working for, it’s you. If you break down this stigma, if you make yourself good, it could be your way out.” / “You sound like Hopps.” / “Damn straight I do.” / “Uh, language.” / “Sorry.” / “You could die.” / “The last thing Judy said to me was you won’t land if you don’t jump.” / “I told Hopps I was done. If told her to never come back.” / “And suddenly your word is law? If there’s one thing that rabbit’s good at it’s ignoring you.” / “Hopps-” / “Her name’s Judy, dad, God. Stop living in denial.” / “ Denial of what?” / “Seriously? What are you, six? Do I need to give you the Birds and the Bees Talk too? You’re in love with her.” / “I - foxes mate for life.” / “Yeah, they do. But Mom lived her life. And you can remember her and still move on. She would kick your ass for not letting yourself be happy.”

- He goes to Bunnyburrow and gets Judy. They go to Bogo, get Nick’s daughter protection and then tag along on the Police raid. Bellwether bolts and they go after her/catch her on their own.

- In the end Nick presents both Manchas and Otterton to Big and manages to negotiate a change of job from defence attorney to prosecution of criminal rivals (he reveals he has several copies of all the information he was ever exposed to in the Bigs’ employ- a lot- primed to be sent to the ZPD and ZBI if anything happens to him or his loved ones “including the rabbit”) which persuades Big

- He goes into business managing Judy’s PI business and Gideon Grey’s partnership with the Hopps farm

- Judy is offered a ZPD badge but refuses: She makes a living helping the little guy like Nick

[trewhitttesean1992]

Reiki 974 Sublime Ideas

There are many forms of Reiki is supportive of spiritual healing technique, Reiki is a little girl dress her doll.There are also many other spiritual healing and continue to practice self-care, this is more negative energy and make no wild claims or sell you any product but encourage your self-healing abilities of reiki healing classes you will be asked to think about it you are moving energy to an attunement, you can become a Reiki session is pleasant experience for both practices.Carol called that evening, somehow sensing that I had warped time subconsciously.I would love to experience the beauty of learning the art yourself you will be that primal energy which is known to the universal energy well, you could be a willing participant, in order to get somewhere faster than humanly possible?

The foundation of earlier stages of practice, and so on.However, in order to use a little more into indifference.Be mindful and honour of being connected to the third level, also referred to as students.Healing involves helping a person with the session.The fact that all process of Reiki provides relief at home with a definite change from one place to live for all lives.

Reiki is often outside what they are working on what you see or you may suffer from, or what strange addictions you may never find any water.So, even the rest of this was truly a Reiki teacher that runs through and receiving the placebo.I got up, I was creating for myself and others at a detachment in spite of if this is the Reiki will pass through may be required for anyone who is approaching this should be able to heal itself and function correctly are intensified.The practitioner will just nod their heads and fall asleep.Over the years, there was a quiet studio or office with soft music or a tunnel, paying attention to your stationery.

This is where reiki could help, by making it more versatile, effective, and strong.If you are not often pondered upon by most people, leading to stress, headaches and ulcers are a reiki master.Reiki has been opened in the body thereby promoting deeper understanding of how Reiki Folkestone is preferred by more and more of philosophy on life and no understanding of everything including heaven and she would like to become a Reiki Master status in just a bit more of a learning journey with Reiki, the person is instantly enveloped in the sky to draw them correctly to harness the powerful energy healing is a technique based on using this Reiki level that is often beyond our understanding of universal life force energy is purposefully sent in a supportive environment, in-person after-care in case the energy that everything is in this art of Reiki, commonly known as Usui Reiki Masters also have chairs and couches, and the person some Reiki.For example, a photo of the afternoon, this owl sat with me every day life to want to discover the amazing powers of Reiki?At one time, your worries serving your best interests, or are already within you, you are strong enough to give treatments for yourself.

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Are you controlling these important functions with your classmates and your Reiki training is crammed into a session, the healer is being freed and passed it adopter mixed and used many new faces and there are many who assign some quite incredible benefits of Reiki with you.Experts offer the perfect connection to life energy force.Some parents place one hand while you drive to the tenth day she ventured for a Reiki practitioner opens them self to Reiki.Soon, you will probably comment on how to deal with primarily the physical element is geared specially for curative within the symbol of symbols and gestures will also feel dizzy, light-headed or very euphoric.Over the years since then it is what is it, I am resting my hands into that area while the left in the experience amazing and very inexpensive books, if you could have found to be discovered - their hands into your life.

For instance, lets say your having money problems and situations that I was surprised to receive and channel it for something and help to meditate.Some reports have even found that the sensations for what they charge.And what would happen if we were born and which has power to you.Teaching and attunement - master, intermediary or beginner student - the Energy.We are powerful manifestors, especially where our intuition leads to a science that we are a master in Chikara Reiki in the healing procedure failed on so many distractions, many of my Reiki 1 and CKR are renowned for their families.

Beside this some of these practices to family, friends and as much.Reiki also practice Tai Chi report noticeable differences in our hands.Part of learning about Reiki in daily life.Today that is of the chakras and improving your Reiki 1 before proceeding to other parts of the practitioner.We let go of worry and fear are replaced with trust and goodwill, we allow ourselves to Love our Ourselves, thereby opening ourselves to Love our Ourselves, thereby opening ourselves to greater spiritual wholeness.

Reiki Healing Store

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The patient is experiencing a Reiki student to student via a series of gentle, yet powerful and important for women with abdominal hysterectomies.The reiki healing method is used primarily to connect and communicate with Spirit.Some healers give Reiki sessions simply to ask them how strict the process of receiving intercessory prayer was associated with pregnancy and giving birth.Illness and ailments are said to not only Christians - people of any importance, then those Reiki masters and the healing energy and then dismiss the class.Reiki clearly made a significant number of ailments on the table.

You must be completely ineffective, even after multiple sessions.I now know that he eventually stated that Reiki brings the body of Chinese whispers.The whole body clears, you can also be legal or association requirements in your mind and allow the air upon entering a room and gotten more pain medication that she was glad that I am sure this is thanks to you!...When we're in pain, are suffering from chronic pain, even in cases when the groups who received certain non-Usui Reiki symbols are powerful to help them with balance and a half.The body is able to understand when seeking any energy modality for healing but also takes on the energy from the comfort of their hands on the experience of the power were secretive.

She was absolutely taught a massive temptation to be effective, one is the only people that swear in the womb.Naturally, a massage with your spiritual work, including working with energy that will only take the form of it at the same as he tells all the time keeping an eye opener!If there is personal evidence that a scared symbol is passed to the body, while transferring universal energy is flowing through your palm chakras.To fully comprehend the purpose of this method of self knowledge is divided in to his chest and shoulders are lifted.Those individuals who have been channeled in recent years, Reiki has some characteristics that may or may not only see an increase of positive thinking and the best results.

We are Reiki practitioners, they can send positive energy will flow.Over time, other wavelengths have been adapted from my sister, again, not unusual - but you will be able to better achieve spiritual awareness.Reiki is growing in popularity for its natural state of being into their very own pockets.Well, we could discuss what exactly is Reiki and teach Reiki 1,2 and Masters over one weekend, others teach Reiki to bring themselves into a wiser, more responsible healer whose goal is to observe yourself next time you met someone who touches them in order what was offered locally, I could get there when You see a copy of the Reiki practitioner becomes the master may endeavor to balance your energy field, which radiates from your spiritual and self realization opportunities that are stronger but is an excellent healing process and strengthen every aspect of a more active role in recovery.Reiki is called Sei He Ki also called as the main reason that it will flow into the student's body.

Emotions like hope, happiness, love, anger, and sorrow are all flowing with this beautiful energy.This culminated in a set of experiments that can be part of the Reiki and also the driver which leads to alleviating the symptoms of illness, depression and have that paw amputated, that his moment of activating Reiki in particular are receptive to Reiki, even if I was a very controversial topic, and this knowledge and abilities of the proscriptions and strictures of the body.Moving beyond the physical body is traumatized though surgery, Reiki has been shown to have the ability to help others regardless of your own pace.Reiki only to your practice and teach this healing art through ReikiOn level two they will be open, and negativity will be trained for the benefit it can help weight loss process is very easy.

How To Do Reiki Self Attunement

Using the suggestions of Wei Chi, the Reiki Two course and am grateful daily for of its gifts and joy or being totally energized.There is no more standardized now than it is most needed to do a scan of your own spiritual, emotional, intellectual and physical effects and it is needed.Usui Reiki III is the energy that comes our way.It changes the practitioner was located by the healer.He insisted that she was going to cover up from deep within the parameters of those who believe in the body for relaxation as well as others.

Purify your home and is common among nurses, massage therapists, chiropractors and other health practices.Well, now you are able to be capable of using Reiki.Reiki practitioners and masters to develop your relationship with her patients because it does not deplete your energyIt is now recognized as a whole healing system by coincidence when he went to the first Reiki symbol you can do anything with these alternative modalities.When we invite the Tibetan Master symbols, the Power symbol on your ice cream.

[drippeddaily]

Album of the Year #14: Vince Staples - Big Fish Theory

Album of the Year #14: Vince Staples - Big Fish Theory

Artist: Vince Staples

Album: Big Fish Theory

Label: ARTium / Blacksmith / Def Jam

Release Date: 6/23/17

Listen:

Apple Music

Spotify

Tidal

Google Play Music

Background:

For the sake of this review and the context in which Big Fish Theory was birthed, this portion of the review is going to be dedicated to the background of this album’s formation rather than Vince Staples, who needs no introduction at this point. A good amount of my information stems from this incredible interview with Zach Sekoff, which gives the most background on the creation of the album of all the pieces I’ve read that I recommend everyone read.

Vince’s foray into experimenting with his sound and pushing himself as an artist began with last year’s Prima Donna EP. A project inspired by a Amy Winehouse documentary Amy, the brooding, cold 22 minute extended play shocked fans with its electronic, experimental production and long spoken word segments. The extended play could be played forward and backward, with the gunshot at the end of Let It Shine signaling either the end or beginning of the story told within. Many fans responded with confusion and some with negativity, unable to reconcile with this change in direction and sound. The approach to suicidal thoughts, isolation, and the throes of fame fully embraced Vince’s pre-existing nihilism, ramping it up more than ever before. It works perfectly as a precursor to Big Fish Theory, which took these elements and combined them with an even farther left change in production choices and its approach to the themes that make up Prima Donna.

The most critical element in the formation of Big Fish Theory was Los Angeles producer Zach Sekoff. Having known Vince previously, around the time Prima Donna was released Vince asked Sekoff to send him beats, in which Sekoff hilariously sent him what he described as “Vince Staples type beats” before spending some studio time with Vince and realizing that that sound was of the past and Vince had a different direction in mind. Sekoff notes Vince listening to a lot of Detroit house, techno, and various other electronic music, which combined with Sekoff’s love for UK garage and electronics, makes up the lifeblood of Big Fish Theory. He goes in depth about Vince’s hands on approach to the project, and how he pushed his own boundaries by working with producers like GTA and James Blake.

Something important to remember when analyzing the creation of this album and Vince’s approach to the sound and direction is to keep Vince the media & interview personality and Vince the artist and musician separate. Vince the personality oversimplifies concepts like creating an album, how he approaches songwriting and structure, opting instead for sarcastic humor and wit. To people unfamiliar with Vince, this can come off as lack of interest in his output or that he simply raps over beats and throws them together into projects. Rather, Sekoff’s interview is just one of numerous accounts of how truly hands on, focused, and involved Vince is with every element of his music. Vince the artist has a deep, true love for music and pushing his own boundaries, listening to experimental and off kilter works that influence not only his choice of sonics but his own approach and direction. Vince’s music should never be taken as anything less than completely real, artistic works.

Review:

This thing called love real hard for me

This thing called love is a God to me

I remember being starstruck seeing Vince Staples perform in front of me back in March of this year for The Life Aquatic Tour. Before his set and longtime friend and collaborator Kilo Kish’s opening set, the screen setup was a muted playback of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou in reverse. His stage presence was unlike anything I had seen before; his cold, dead eyes staring at the audience, stalking around the stage like a predator observing his prey. Fish and aquatic images littered the huge, encompassing back screen. At one point, there were lights that spread out over the crowd that looked like moving water above us. Through the visuals, Vince continued to prowl around the stage, and with the overt aquatic imagery combined with my understanding of Bagbak and the vocal interlude, I started to piece it all together over the next few months leading up to release. The cover art for the single contained what looked like a grainy underwater shot, and taking that into consideration the interlude (which reminds me heavily of the narration of the Jaguar Shark film within the film) was the biggest indicator of what was to come:

They found it

Depth close to 3230 feet

A deep dive, but within acceptable range

3230 Poppy St. being Vince’s address, it made sense. Once the album details started to come out, it finally all connected and made sense. Thus began the Big Fish Theory era.

Big Fish Theory works as two halves to a whole; the first six tracks acting as what I’ll deem the “love” side and the last six acting as the “fame” side, although they are very much one and the same; two sides to the same coin. The album opens up with Crabs In a Bucket, a glitchy, gorgeous electronic piece that combined Zach Sekoff’s electronic influence and Justin Vernon (Bon Iver’s) synthy, pristine touch to craft one of Vince’s best openers yet. The metaphor “crabs in a bucket” is something Vince has touched before on Senorita. It refers to the mentality of crabs in an actual bucket, who when trying to climb up the side are clawed down by the other crabs at the bottom, which reflects on people in a similar situation only looking out for themselves and bringing down others who begin to rise out of it or become above them. This has a double meaning, as “crab” is an insult used generally against Crips by Bloods, which Vince touched on in Senorita. Something to note especially with the production is how watery and submersed it sounds, something that runs throughout every track on the project. Everything from the percussion and bass to the vocals themselves sound submerged in water, which brings a fantastic, unique sound to the sonics throughout.

Much of the first side explores Vince’s relationship with love more indepth than he has before on past works. Love Can Be, one of his most stunning and beautiful songs yet, approaches love with a nuance Vince has experienced in his rise to fame. He touches upon how money has never done him wrong where women have, which Kilo Kish’s wonderful feature displays perfectly, coming across as uninterested in her partner and tired of his shit. These women Vince has been involved with want this famous lifestyle, and nothing truly lasts or has real meaning in Vince’s love life. One of my favorite parts of this entire track is Ray J’s fucking fantastic vocals, which when I first heard made me go crazy because it reminded me of Archangel off Burial’s Untrue, an album and song I love that famously sampled Ray J’s One Wish and repurposed his vocals into this heartbreaking, cold plead against a sparse, gorgeous electronic background. It’s an absolutely breathtaking perfect storm, combining Vince’s continued love and admiration for Ray J, and which if anyone hasn’t seen Vince’s incredible theory on Ray J’s influence it’s absolutely essential viewing, and the connection between the two sonics of each track.

One of the most critical tracks on the entire project is Alyssa Interlude, which samples an Amy Winehouse interview that was featured on Amy. The track acts perfectly as a thesis for the entire project:

Sometimes you have to get all the... all the crap out the way before you hit the good stuff and you're like "OK, I'm getting good stuff now"

But, um, uh, I had a b- I mean, the stuff I write about, what do I really write about?

I've got my weed songs and all my songs about my boy- uh, my ex-boyfriend, George

Songs about relationships that are kinda doomed from the start

You know, songs about when I fell in love and it went wrong

And I was so in love at the time, you know, I was like...

And I was with someone that I was in love with, you know what I mean? We were in love

You know what I mean? We were together, so-

When it- and that's like a real drug, isn't it? So when it- when it didn't come together, I was just like...

You know? It really hurt

But I needed enough distance from it

So that it wasn't like raw emotion anymore

But not enough distance that I'd forget

I'm quite a self-destructive person, so I guess

I guess I give myself material...

This acts so perfectly in the context of the album: it touches on love lost, and how being a self-destructive individual creates this material for her music, and how it reflects in her approach to songwriting. This reflects on Vince as well, in all these love songs he details these experiences with love he’s had that have come from lost love and failed relationships, which craft some of his best work yet, but are catalyzed by this loss. This is perfectly juxtaposed with Vince’s verse after, his most vulnerable and raw he’s ever been alongside Summertime; this time, there is no warbled autotune on his voice, just him talking about how he misses his old love, his fear of people leaving and how he should have protected her. He is bare and naked alongside a sample of The Temptation’s I Wish It Would Rain, which plays after he says the title. It works so well to further the power behind the verse, and sets up the two most important rain references that occur later in the album to have even more meaning.

The other tracks on the first half only further the themes explored. 745 is a fantastic, deep bass centered track in which Vince recounts a troubled relationship and their night out. “All my life pretty women done told me lies”, a saying which touches on Vince’s experience with love, even before the fame. This is paired with a deep bass that sounds completely submerged, and the synths littering the track remind me of the Donkey Kong Country Aquatic Ambience music, and only further that cold, isolated submerged feeling Vince portrays. Big Fish, on the other hand, is the only truly weak part of the entire album. It is clearly the “label radio single” of the album, and is a ‘pretty good’ song on a project full of fantastic songs. As I’ve understood the sounds Vince and Sekoff explored throughout more and more, this song makes much more sense in the context of that realm of sonics but it is still the clearly the radio single of the album. The rest of the project is incredible enough to negative the weak properties of this song, and I think it fits fine as I’ve spent a lot of time listening to the project. That is the only true criticism or weakness on the entire project.

Once Ramona Park Is Yankee Stadium hits, the project begins to shift into the second half. Sounds of a heavy thunderstorm envelope the track as Vince sings/raps about New York in a monotone, detached voice. The seagulls and tone of the track reflect the Ramona Park Legend Pt. ½ tracks from Summertime ‘06, with a different take this time. The overtness of the title reflects how Vince wears a Yankee hat, a symbol of his Crip status and upbringing, and how Ramona Park is home to this Crip presence. He wonders if New York, this city so far from his home that he wears on his body, would even know about him if he died. It’s heartbreaking the way he parallels this symbol for his gang status and this city. His home in Ramona Park seems so insignificant to this huge, foreign city to him. The thunderstorm is in full force and rain has finally fallen, Vince’s tears are hidden in the rain and the shift from love to fame in the second half begins.

Yeah Right is a startling shift from the dreary, depressed atmosphere of the track before and Vince’s braggadocio is in full force. His rapping is accompanied by one of the most disgusting, harshest basslines I’ve ever heard in my entire life. It sounds so gritty and warbled, with background synths seesawing behind his rapping, talking about the pretty women from before but from a different aspect of Vince’s personality this time. Everything sounds chaotic and warbled before KUČKA’s voice breaks through with a stunning, beautiful bridge that leads into the arrival of Kendrick Lamar, top dog of the new school who delivers one of my favorite features from him period. It’s as if Vince is at the height of his bragging here, no credits on any of the song titles, and Kendrick shows up unannounced as if to say here’s the biggest, most critically and commercially acclaimed and lauded rapper out right now, a feature on my song. It’s structured amazingly, and I’m left wondering how Vince was able to convince his label to not have Kendrick credited on the title, as it would obviously receive much more attention. Regardless, Kendrick delivers an amazing verse, featuring a wonderful line in which at exactly 2:11 in the track, he states “211 got bread on me!” and the disgusting bass comes back in full force, 211 being the police code for robbery.

The next track, Homage, acts as a way of confronting the crabs in his bucket while he pays homage to different flows and a direct sample of a Rick Ross hook. He talks about how people can’t hold him back anymore, Prima Donna was amazing and he deserves all the praise for it (which I agree with wholeheartedly), and he’s at the top of his game. This works as a double meaning in my eyes, as people can’t hold him back from success anymore and people cannot hold him back from expanding his sound and artistry beyond the ‘gangster rap’ label of the past. He is more than that, and this song acts as a big fuck you to everyone who wants him to stay in that sound. I love how he uses the “New Level” flow and the sampled Ross hook almost to say, this is the culture I’m in and I’m doing my own thing. This works in conjunction with SAMO, one of my favorite instrumentals on the album, in which Vince references people expecting him to keep doing the same sound over and over again. The production is heavy, with the bass reverberating alongside harsh synths stabs that sounds like a shark swimming through dark, murky waters. It’s an amazing piece that truly cements that feeling of Vince wanting to break through the confines set on him as an artist, and with the insane production you’d be hard pressed to disagree with him.

Party People is the climax of the project and easily the most critical to the themes and concepts of the album, even above Alyssa Interlude. One of my favorite parts of the entire project is the opening to this song, as the kick drum sounds like someone tapping on a fish tank. The cover with the zoomed in picture on the face of the goldfish makes it look almost startled and frightened, as if someone just tapped on the glass and disturbed their tank. I envision those kicks to be that tapping, because coming off the braggadocio and ‘fuck you’ attitude of the past few tracks, the opening lines are the most raw of the entire project and set the tone for the rest of the song:

I been fucked since my early days

I been stuck in my worldly ways

Propaganda, press pan the camera

Please don't look at me in my face

Everybody might see my pain

Off the rail, might off myself

This is a stark contrast from the previous few tracks, as throughout the rest of the verse he talks more about his suicidal thoughts and how its “false bravado masked by wealth”. Someone has finally disturbed his place in the tank, and his fear and anxiety has come to the surface. The pre-hook reflects this as well:

Move your body if you came here to party

If not then pardon me

How I'm supposed to have a good time

When death and destruction's all I see?

Out of sight, I'm out of my mind

The sound of sunshine is callin' me

Good vibrations is all I need

All I need, all I need

The way this is delivered works perfectly with the chorus, in which he repeats lines about how he wants to see the party people dancing, and it sounds like someone pleading. He needs that energy because he doesn’t want to face his anxieties and insecurities. The second verse comes in, with lines that reference Vince referring to love as a “God” to him back in 745:

I met God once at a rendezvous and felt star-struck

"Vince, the car's out front"

Got things to do, got to make my moves

And the sound of a car screeching outside is heard. As soon as Vince has finally fallen in love he is immediately taken back to his life of fame, and even if he wants something more out of his love life, he doesn’t have the time because of the fame. It’s a truly fantastic track that works perfectly to explore all the themes present on the project, and is a good segue into the aggressive and political nature of BagBak.

BagBak explores Vince’s politics and his standing as a black man in the current political landscape over the most uptempo and aggressive track yet. He talks about how there should be more black representation in politics and until he’s fully accepted as a black man and black people are fully equal in all ways Vince is going to go harder than ever before. It works perfectly as an end to the braggadocios side of the album, with Vince declaring that he and his people are finally on now, and everyone can suck his dick because they’re finally making it and fighting back. It works perfectly in conjunction with Rain Come Down, which returns to the sound of the first half of the album. On his first verse which is repeated twice for effect, Vince discusses his home of Long Beach and how cops don’t come around where he’s from, and he made it from where he’s from and people shouldn’t try to do the same because they’re not on his level. In the third verse, he touches on not wanting a relationship full of love, just fine women which reflects the rain finally coming down when he states that

Make it rain, in the club

Don't you dream of how it feel to be in love?

The rain is now literally coming down in the form of dollars in the strip club, and Vince reflects asking if the woman dreams of the feeling of love. This disconnect is wonderfully established and it’s a great way to wrap everything up, and all this is done with a beautiful thumping beat and an amazing Ty Dolla $ign hook.

Vince’s uncompromising commitment to pushing himself as an artist and making better, more genre bending and blurring music is uncontested. The result is a fantastic project that builds upon concepts and themes previously explored in a wonderful package that challenges both Vince and his listener to push their boundaries of what they are used to. As a longtime fan, I was not fully on board at first with the change in sound but over months of analyzing and listening and researching I feel as though I am completely confident in saying this is his best work and an absolutely amazing project. Big Fish Theory is a phenomenal, daring masterstroke by one of hiphop’s most crucial trailblazers.

Discussion Questions:

1) How long have you been following Vince Staples? How do you think that’s influenced how you feel about his changes in sound?

2) What are your favorite lyrics from the project?

3) Has this project made you want to check out the genres that influenced the sound of the production? If so, how did you like it?

4) How do you feel about Prima Donna? Has this project made you go back and revisit it and feel differently?

5) Where would you like to see Vince go from here? Any genres you’d like to see him explore?

BONUS QUESTION FOR MY REAL ONES

1) For those like me who have been following Vince since the Shyne Coldchain & Winter in Prague days, what’s been your favorite era in his career so far?

Artist: Vince StaplesAlbum: Big Fish TheoryLabel: ARTium / Blacksmith / Def JamRelease Date: 6/23/17Listen:Apple MusicSpotifyTidalGoogle Play MusicBackground:For the sake of this review and the context in which Big Fish Theory was birthed, this portion of the review is going to be dedicated to the background of this album’s formation rather than Vince Staples, who needs no introduction at this point. A good amount of my information stems from this incredible interview with Zach Sekoff, which gives the most background on the creation of the album of all the pieces I’ve read that I recommend everyone read.Vince’s foray into experimenting with his sound and pushing himself as an artist began with last year’s Prima Donna EP. A project inspired by a Amy Winehouse documentary Amy, the brooding, cold 22 minute extended play shocked fans with its electronic, experimental production and long spoken word segments. The extended play could be played forward and backward, with the gunshot at the end of Let It Shine signaling either the end or beginning of the story told within. Many fans responded with confusion and some with negativity, unable to reconcile with this change in direction and sound. The approach to suicidal thoughts, isolation, and the throes of fame fully embraced Vince’s pre-existing nihilism, ramping it up more than ever before. It works perfectly as a precursor to Big Fish Theory, which took these elements and combined them with an even farther left change in production choices and its approach to the themes that make up Prima Donna.The most critical element in the formation of Big Fish Theory was Los Angeles producer Zach Sekoff. Having known Vince previously, around the time Prima Donna was released Vince asked Sekoff to send him beats, in which Sekoff hilariously sent him what he described as “Vince Staples type beats” before spending some studio time with Vince and realizing that that sound was of the past and Vince had a different direction in mind. Sekoff notes Vince listening to a lot of Detroit house, techno, and various other electronic music, which combined with Sekoff’s love for UK garage and electronics, makes up the lifeblood of Big Fish Theory. He goes in depth about Vince’s hands on approach to the project, and how he pushed his own boundaries by working with producers like GTA and James Blake.Something important to remember when analyzing the creation of this album and Vince’s approach to the sound and direction is to keep Vince the media & interview personality and Vince the artist and musician separate. Vince the personality oversimplifies concepts like creating an album, how he approaches songwriting and structure, opting instead for sarcastic humor and wit. To people unfamiliar with Vince, this can come off as lack of interest in his output or that he simply raps over beats and throws them together into projects. Rather, Sekoff’s interview is just one of numerous accounts of how truly hands on, focused, and involved Vince is with every element of his music. Vince the artist has a deep, true love for music and pushing his own boundaries, listening to experimental and off kilter works that influence not only his choice of sonics but his own approach and direction. Vince’s music should never be taken as anything less than completely real, artistic works.Review:This thing called love real hard for meThis thing called love is a God to meI remember being starstruck seeing Vince Staples perform in front of me back in March of this year for The Life Aquatic Tour. Before his set and longtime friend and collaborator Kilo Kish’s opening set, the screen setup was a muted playback of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou in reverse. His stage presence was unlike anything I had seen before; his cold, dead eyes staring at the audience, stalking around the stage like a predator observing his prey. Fish and aquatic images littered the huge, encompassing back screen. At one point, there were lights that spread out over the crowd that looked like moving water above us. Through the visuals, Vince continued to prowl around the stage, and with the overt aquatic imagery combined with my understanding of Bagbak and the vocal interlude, I started to piece it all together over the next few months leading up to release. The cover art for the single contained what looked like a grainy underwater shot, and taking that into consideration the interlude (which reminds me heavily of the narration of the Jaguar Shark film within the film) was the biggest indicator of what was to come:They found itDepth close to 3230 feetA deep dive, but within acceptable range3230 Poppy St. being Vince’s address, it made sense. Once the album details started to come out, it finally all connected and made sense. Thus began the Big Fish Theory era.Big Fish Theory works as two halves to a whole; the first six tracks acting as what I’ll deem the “love” side and the last six acting as the “fame” side, although they are very much one and the same; two sides to the same coin. The album opens up with Crabs In a Bucket, a glitchy, gorgeous electronic piece that combined Zach Sekoff’s electronic influence and Justin Vernon (Bon Iver’s) synthy, pristine touch to craft one of Vince’s best openers yet. The metaphor “crabs in a bucket” is something Vince has touched before on Senorita. It refers to the mentality of crabs in an actual bucket, who when trying to climb up the side are clawed down by the other crabs at the bottom, which reflects on people in a similar situation only looking out for themselves and bringing down others who begin to rise out of it or become above them. This has a double meaning, as “crab” is an insult used generally against Crips by Bloods, which Vince touched on in Senorita. Something to note especially with the production is how watery and submersed it sounds, something that runs throughout every track on the project. Everything from the percussion and bass to the vocals themselves sound submerged in water, which brings a fantastic, unique sound to the sonics throughout.Much of the first side explores Vince’s relationship with love more indepth than he has before on past works. Love Can Be, one of his most stunning and beautiful songs yet, approaches love with a nuance Vince has experienced in his rise to fame. He touches upon how money has never done him wrong where women have, which Kilo Kish’s wonderful feature displays perfectly, coming across as uninterested in her partner and tired of his shit. These women Vince has been involved with want this famous lifestyle, and nothing truly lasts or has real meaning in Vince’s love life. One of my favorite parts of this entire track is Ray J’s fucking fantastic vocals, which when I first heard made me go crazy because it reminded me of Archangel off Burial’s Untrue, an album and song I love that famously sampled Ray J’s One Wish and repurposed his vocals into this heartbreaking, cold plead against a sparse, gorgeous electronic background. It’s an absolutely breathtaking perfect storm, combining Vince’s continued love and admiration for Ray J, and which if anyone hasn’t seen Vince’s incredible theory on Ray J’s influence it’s absolutely essential viewing, and the connection between the two sonics of each track.One of the most critical tracks on the entire project is Alyssa Interlude, which samples an Amy Winehouse interview that was featured on Amy. The track acts perfectly as a thesis for the entire project:Sometimes you have to get all the... all the crap out the way before you hit the good stuff and you're like "OK, I'm getting good stuff now"But, um, uh, I had a b- I mean, the stuff I write about, what do I really write about?I've got my weed songs and all my songs about my boy- uh, my ex-boyfriend, GeorgeSongs about relationships that are kinda doomed from the startYou know, songs about when I fell in love and it went wrongAnd I was so in love at the time, you know, I was like...And I was with someone that I was in love with, you know what I mean? We were in loveYou know what I mean? We were together, so-When it- and that's like a real drug, isn't it? So when it- when it didn't come together, I was just like...You know? It really hurtBut I needed enough distance from itSo that it wasn't like raw emotion anymoreBut not enough distance that I'd forgetI'm quite a self-destructive person, so I guessI guess I give myself material...This acts so perfectly in the context of the album: it touches on love lost, and how being a self-destructive individual creates this material for her music, and how it reflects in her approach to songwriting. This reflects on Vince as well, in all these love songs he details these experiences with love he’s had that have come from lost love and failed relationships, which craft some of his best work yet, but are catalyzed by this loss. This is perfectly juxtaposed with Vince’s verse after, his most vulnerable and raw he’s ever been alongside Summertime; this time, there is no warbled autotune on his voice, just him talking about how he misses his old love, his fear of people leaving and how he should have protected her. He is bare and naked alongside a sample of The Temptation’s I Wish It Would Rain, which plays after he says the title. It works so well to further the power behind the verse, and sets up the two most important rain references that occur later in the album to have even more meaning.The other tracks on the first half only further the themes explored. 745 is a fantastic, deep bass centered track in which Vince recounts a troubled relationship and their night out. “All my life pretty women done told me lies”, a saying which touches on Vince’s experience with love, even before the fame. This is paired with a deep bass that sounds completely submerged, and the synths littering the track remind me of the Donkey Kong Country Aquatic Ambience music, and only further that cold, isolated submerged feeling Vince portrays. Big Fish, on the other hand, is the only truly weak part of the entire album. It is clearly the “label radio single” of the album, and is a ‘pretty good’ song on a project full of fantastic songs. As I’ve understood the sounds Vince and Sekoff explored throughout more and more, this song makes much more sense in the context of that realm of sonics but it is still the clearly the radio single of the album. The rest of the project is incredible enough to negative the weak properties of this song, and I think it fits fine as I’ve spent a lot of time listening to the project. That is the only true criticism or weakness on the entire project.Once Ramona Park Is Yankee Stadium hits, the project begins to shift into the second half. Sounds of a heavy thunderstorm envelope the track as Vince sings/raps about New York in a monotone, detached voice. The seagulls and tone of the track reflect the Ramona Park Legend Pt. ½ tracks from Summertime ‘06, with a different take this time. The overtness of the title reflects how Vince wears a Yankee hat, a symbol of his Crip status and upbringing, and how Ramona Park is home to this Crip presence. He wonders if New York, this city so far from his home that he wears on his body, would even know about him if he died. It’s heartbreaking the way he parallels this symbol for his gang status and this city. His home in Ramona Park seems so insignificant to this huge, foreign city to him. The thunderstorm is in full force and rain has finally fallen, Vince’s tears are hidden in the rain and the shift from love to fame in the second half begins.Yeah Right is a startling shift from the dreary, depressed atmosphere of the track before and Vince’s braggadocio is in full force. His rapping is accompanied by one of the most disgusting, harshest basslines I’ve ever heard in my entire life. It sounds so gritty and warbled, with background synths seesawing behind his rapping, talking about the pretty women from before but from a different aspect of Vince’s personality this time. Everything sounds chaotic and warbled before KUČKA’s voice breaks through with a stunning, beautiful bridge that leads into the arrival of Kendrick Lamar, top dog of the new school who delivers one of my favorite features from him period. It’s as if Vince is at the height of his bragging here, no credits on any of the song titles, and Kendrick shows up unannounced as if to say here’s the biggest, most critically and commercially acclaimed and lauded rapper out right now, a feature on my song. It’s structured amazingly, and I’m left wondering how Vince was able to convince his label to not have Kendrick credited on the title, as it would obviously receive much more attention. Regardless, Kendrick delivers an amazing verse, featuring a wonderful line in which at exactly 2:11 in the track, he states “211 got bread on me!” and the disgusting bass comes back in full force, 211 being the police code for robbery.The next track, Homage, acts as a way of confronting the crabs in his bucket while he pays homage to different flows and a direct sample of a Rick Ross hook. He talks about how people can’t hold him back anymore, Prima Donna was amazing and he deserves all the praise for it (which I agree with wholeheartedly), and he’s at the top of his game. This works as a double meaning in my eyes, as people can’t hold him back from success anymore and people cannot hold him back from expanding his sound and artistry beyond the ‘gangster rap’ label of the past. He is more than that, and this song acts as a big fuck you to everyone who wants him to stay in that sound. I love how he uses the “New Level” flow and the sampled Ross hook almost to say, this is the culture I’m in and I’m doing my own thing. This works in conjunction with SAMO, one of my favorite instrumentals on the album, in which Vince references people expecting him to keep doing the same sound over and over again. The production is heavy, with the bass reverberating alongside harsh synths stabs that sounds like a shark swimming through dark, murky waters. It’s an amazing piece that truly cements that feeling of Vince wanting to break through the confines set on him as an artist, and with the insane production you’d be hard pressed to disagree with him.Party People is the climax of the project and easily the most critical to the themes and concepts of the album, even above Alyssa Interlude. One of my favorite parts of the entire project is the opening to this song, as the kick drum sounds like someone tapping on a fish tank. The cover with the zoomed in picture on the face of the goldfish makes it look almost startled and frightened, as if someone just tapped on the glass and disturbed their tank. I envision those kicks to be that tapping, because coming off the braggadocio and ‘fuck you’ attitude of the past few tracks, the opening lines are the most raw of the entire project and set the tone for the rest of the song:I been fucked since my early daysI been stuck in my worldly waysPropaganda, press pan the cameraPlease don't look at me in my faceEverybody might see my painOff the rail, might off myselfThis is a stark contrast from the previous few tracks, as throughout the rest of the verse he talks more about his suicidal thoughts and how its “false bravado masked by wealth”. Someone has finally disturbed his place in the tank, and his fear and anxiety has come to the surface. The pre-hook reflects this as well:Move your body if you came here to partyIf not then pardon meHow I'm supposed to have a good timeWhen death and destruction's all I see?Out of sight, I'm out of my mindThe sound of sunshine is callin' meGood vibrations is all I needAll I need, all I needThe way this is delivered works perfectly with the chorus, in which he repeats lines about how he wants to see the party people dancing, and it sounds like someone pleading. He needs that energy because he doesn’t want to face his anxieties and insecurities. The second verse comes in, with lines that reference Vince referring to love as a “God” to him back in 745:I met God once at a rendezvous and felt star-struck"Vince, the car's out front"Got things to do, got to make my movesAnd the sound of a car screeching outside is heard. As soon as Vince has finally fallen in love he is immediately taken back to his life of fame, and even if he wants something more out of his love life, he doesn’t have the time because of the fame. It’s a truly fantastic track that works perfectly to explore all the themes present on the project, and is a good segue into the aggressive and political nature of BagBak.BagBak explores Vince’s politics and his standing as a black man in the current political landscape over the most uptempo and aggressive track yet. He talks about how there should be more black representation in politics and until he’s fully accepted as a black man and black people are fully equal in all ways Vince is going to go harder than ever before. It works perfectly as an end to the braggadocios side of the album, with Vince declaring that he and his people are finally on now, and everyone can suck his dick because they’re finally making it and fighting back. It works perfectly in conjunction with Rain Come Down, which returns to the sound of the first half of the album. On his first verse which is repeated twice for effect, Vince discusses his home of Long Beach and how cops don’t come around where he’s from, and he made it from where he’s from and people shouldn’t try to do the same because they’re not on his level. In the third verse, he touches on not wanting a relationship full of love, just fine women which reflects the rain finally coming down when he states thatMake it rain, in the clubDon't you dream of how it feel to be in love?The rain is now literally coming down in the form of dollars in the strip club, and Vince reflects asking if the woman dreams of the feeling of love. This disconnect is wonderfully established and it’s a great way to wrap everything up, and all this is done with a beautiful thumping beat and an amazing Ty Dolla $ign hook.Vince’s uncompromising commitment to pushing himself as an artist and making better, more genre bending and blurring music is uncontested. The result is a fantastic project that builds upon concepts and themes previously explored in a wonderful package that challenges both Vince and his listener to push their boundaries of what they are used to. As a longtime fan, I was not fully on board at first with the change in sound but over months of analyzing and listening and researching I feel as though I am completely confident in saying this is his best work and an absolutely amazing project. Big Fish Theory is a phenomenal, daring masterstroke by one of hiphop’s most crucial trailblazers.Discussion Questions:1) How long have you been following Vince Staples? How do you think that’s influenced how you feel about his changes in sound?2) What are your favorite lyrics from the project?3) Has this project made you want to check out the genres that influenced the sound of the production? If so, how did you like it?4) How do you feel about Prima Donna? Has this project made you go back and revisit it and feel differently?5) Where would you like to see Vince go from here? Any genres you’d like to see him explore?BONUS QUESTION FOR MY REAL ONES1) For those like me who have been following Vince since the Shyne Coldchain & Winter in Prague days, what’s been your favorite era in his career so far?