#sundown getting that core strength for sure.

[polar-equinoxx]

I have some conclusions on this photo:

There is nothing going on behind Goose’s eyes.

Mav is simply ✨done✨

Chipper might be plotting murder.

Sundown is just practicing strengthening his core.

[storiesforallfandoms]

nothing left ~ 10k;z nation

word count: 2229

request?: no

description: he accompanies her back to her childhood home to find nothing left besides the memories of times before the zombies, and they decide to leave some new memories there

pairing: 10k x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

(Y/N) kept a straight face as they drove past the sig with her hometown’s name displayed in bold, black letters against the stark white background. It was the first time she had been there since she and her parents had escaped during the initial Z outbreak. Since then, she had lost everything, but managed to find a new family within the small group that took her in.

They came to a stop at an empty parking lot of an abandoned supermarket. Everyone got out, weapons in tow.

“This place is a ghost town,” Doc commented.

“Almost everyone vacated when the infection started,” (Y/N) explained. “I don’t even think there would be any Zs here. It’s probably only been ransacked lately.”

“It’s the only town for miles, it’s our best bet for resources,” Warren said. “We search the place where we can and see what we can find.” She turned to (Y/N) to add, “Do you want to go home? Just to see the place if nothing else?”

(Y/N) was dying to get home, but she didn’t want anyone on the team to see her as weak or fragile. Although she knew they wouldn’t think any different of her if she did show some weakness, in this day and age, your biggest threat was to be perceived as weak to anyone.

Before she could respond, 10k spoke up. “I think you should. It’ll give you a break from everything, and you can be closer to your parents for even just a moment.”

(Y/N) had a hard time saying no to 10k, especially when parents were involved. She knew he wanted nothing more than to be close to his own father again, but, like (Y/N), 10k hadn’t been home in nearly a year. He didn’t even know if his own home was still standing. If she turned down this opportunity that she knew 10k wanted so bad in front of him, she’d never forgive herself.

“It would be nice,” she admitted.

“You go then honey,” Warren said, her voice soft and kind. “10k, you go with her for protection. Meet us back here before sundown. We’ll wait a little while, but not too long.”

The two youngest members left in the opposite direction of the group. (Y/N) led 10k down the still familiar roads. They weren’t too far from the house and, before she knew it, (Y/N) was stood in front of her childhood home. Her eyes widened at the sight of it.

All the windows were smashed and the door was practically ripped off of the hinges. They entered with weapons raised in case of a Z attack. (Y/N)’s heart broke to see the place ransacked and destroyed. Every picture her parents had hung were smashed to pieces. Only one remained partially in tact, one of (Y/N) and her parents when she was barley a year old. They were on their first vacation as a family to visit someone in another state. The picture was of the three of them on the beach together. Baby (Y/N) was in her mother’s arms, taken by the sand in her tiny hands while her parents were smiling brightly at the camera.

10k looked over her shoulder as her eyes began to water. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“I got that a lot,” she said. “We were basically twins. Dad said I got lucky with mom’s genes.”

She held the picture close to her chest as she moved up the stairs to where the bedrooms and main bathroom was. Whoever had broken in must’ve found what they wanted on the first floor because the bedrooms were relatively untouched. Every poster and picture (Y/N) had on her walls were still there. Her old laptop was even still there, although she doubted that it worked anymore.

“It’s weird,” she said. “It feels like I’ve been gone for years, but this room looks exactly the way I left it, like not a day has past.”

“Anything here you want to take with you?” 10k asked.

(Y/N) shook her head. “I took most of the important stuff when we left first. There’s nothing but memories here now.”

She was so lost in her own thoughts - memories of when things were good - that she didn’t hear 10k leave the room to walk into the bathroom until he spoke again. “The water still runs.”

She walked into the bathroom to find clean water running from the tap. She put a hand under the water, feeling it go from freezing cold to comfortably warm in seconds.

“The power and stuff must still be running,” she said. “Good news for us. I haven’t showered in ages.”

“You think it’s safe?” 10k asked, but (Y/N) was already placing her weapons on the bathroom counter and shedding herself of her top layers.

“I’m willing to take one for the team if it means I’ll be clean when I die,” she joked. “You can watch the door and make sure no Zs or no more looters come in. I’ll leave my gun close enough that I can use it if need be.”

10k nodded. Before he could get the chance to turn back on, (Y/N) grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. For a split second, 10k saw the black bra she was wearing. It was old and worn, probably one of the only ones she had left. Due to this, it was basically falling apart, so when he got a brief glance of the bra, he also got a glance of one of her breasts.

10k’s eyes widened as he quickly turned his back so that (Y/N) didn’t know. He stood in the doorway, listening over the sound of the shower running for any indication of someone, or something, breaking into the house.

The warm water running over (Y/N) caused her to let out a moan of relief. It had been so long since she had properly bathed. The warm water of the familiar shower felt like heaven to her.

Outside the shower, 10k was shuffling awkwardly. He and (Y/N) had been close since they had first met, but they had only ever viewed each other as friends and Z fighting colleagues. He didn’t understand why he was starting to have this feeling about her. Maybe it was just boy hormones and the fact that she was a naked girl just a few feet away from him. But it felt like more than that. Maybe it had always been more than that but he was just afraid to admit it.

Before he could stop himself, 10k silently placed his gun next to hers on the toilet cover. He began to shed himself of his own clothes, working quickly and quietly as to not disturb her. (Y/N) had her head back with the water running over her hair and body when 10k pulled the curtain back and stepped in. She opened her eyes to look at him, shocked by his sudden appearance. She looked him up and down for a moment, her face giving away nothing.

“Gotta save water,” 10k said, trying to lighten the mood.

A smile broke out across (Y/N)’s face as a small giggle came from her lips. “Come here, 10k.”

She put a hand on the back of his neck at the same time that his hands found her waist. Their lips collided and it felt like the most right thing in the terrible, fucked up world around them. 10k’s lips moved against (Y/N)’s perfectly, as if they were supposed to be there, to be kissing her so deeply. His hands wandered over her dripping body, touching every inch of her soft skin with his calloused hands.

(Y/N) let out a sudden squeal as 10k lifted her effortlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist. She was shocked at his strength. Sure, he wasn’t as scrawny and wimpy as he may have looked, but he certainly wasn’t the strongest person in the world. He’s just full of surprises, (Y/N) noted as his lips connected with hers again.

His hard boner was against her aching core, teasing her ever so slightly with every gently brush against her. She whimpered against his lips when she felt him brush against her opening, trying to ground her hips against his to feel her inside of him. Knowing that she wanted this as much as he did made him even more turned on. He was almost afraid that he wouldn’t be able to make this moment last long enough.

He helped to guide her down onto his hard length, causing (Y/N) to gasp as he filled her entirely.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked her, suddenly realizing that he had no idea what (Y/N)’s sexual past was like.

“No,” she responded, her voice breathless and airy. “I just haven’t had sex in a very long time. I forgot how good it felt.”

10k smiled at her and pressed his lips against hers again. He pressed her back against the nearest wall and slowly began to thrust himself into her. (Y/N)’s back arched against the wall, trying to get as close to 10k as she possibly could.

He was slow and gentle, which drove (Y/N) even more wild. She held on around his neck as if her life depended on it, moaning and gasping against his lips with every thrust he pushed into her. She could barley even think straight, her mind focusing only on the pleasure that 10k was providing her.

“Is this alright?” he asked, his voice soft.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. Sweet 10k, always thinking of the comfort of others, even when he was in the middle of the most intense shower sex (Y/N) had ever had.

“It’s more than alright,” she responded. “God, it feels so fucking good.”

10k had heard (Y/N) swearing many times, but hearing the expletive word slip from her breathless voice in that moment drove him wild. He rested his head against her shoulder, groaning as he pushed his hips against hers again, filling her completely.

“You feel so good,” he told her. “You’re so soft and warm, fuck.”

“Who would’ve thought that sweet 10k had a dirty side?” (Y/N) giggled.

“You must not know me well enough, then.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

Her thought was cut short as 10k pulled almost completely out of her then filled her again. Her mind was clouded with lust as she tried to rock her hips against his, begging for the release she wanted.

Noticing her desperation, 10k wrapped one arm around her lower back and slipped his free hand between them. (Y/N) gasped as his fingers connected with her swollen nerves and began to rub circles in them. She could feel a familiar pressure building inside of her. She clung to 10k’s shoulders, curses falling from her mouth in between moans of pleasure. Her legs began to shake as she felt herself hitting her climax. She threw her head back and called 10k’s name - his real name - in pleasure.

Feeling her walls contracting around him caused 10k to feel his own climax approaching. He held on to her hips as his thrusts became a little faster. Before he knew it, his eyes were nearly rolling back into his head as he felt himself filling her with his warm cum. The feeling of the warmth inside of her was enough to almost turn (Y/N) on again.

They stayed tangled together for a moment, completely forgetting about the running water cascading down onto them. It wasn’t until the warm water started to turn cold that they realized it was probably time for the two of them to get out.

Luckily for them, whoever looted the house also didn’t think to take any of the towels in the upstairs linen closet, so they had a way to dry themselves off. Before she started pulling her clothes on, 10k wrapped his arms around (Y/N) again and kissed her exposed shoulders and neck before placing one last sweet kiss against her lips.

“We should tell the others about the running water,” he said as he pulled his clothes back on. “If this place is relatively Z-less, we could probably get away with staying here for a while.”

“We’ve stayed in worst looking places,” (Y/N) agreed. “I’m sure everyone else is dying to clean themselves, too. There’s enough room for everyone to sleep with all the bedrooms and the couch downstairs.”

The reminder of the wreckage when they first entered caused a melancholy mood to wash over (Y/N) again. Noticing this, 10k brought her into his arms and held her tightly.

“I’m sorry about your house,” he said. “I’m sorry someone did this to you, that they took all the memories of this place.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “They didn’t take the memories. No one could ever take that from this place. Besides, I’d like to make some new memories here...with you.”

10k smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I think we’ve already started with that.”

(Y/N) giggled and pulled away from him. “Let’s go find everyone to tell them before they leave us abandoned.”

[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Chapter Two

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+, Mentions of war, military technicalities, smut in future chapters

A/N: Hello peeps! I hope you are enjoying this series. Please comment and reblog if you like it. It’s always good to hear that your work it appreciated. And massive thanks to @thelastsock for being my beta, who is immensely talented and the sweetest person ever! ❤️

<Chapter One

Title: Chapter Two

As the golden rays of the sun peered from the horizon, the living quarters came to life. Olivia was the first to jump into the shower, with Sloan and Sierra joining in by occupying the other booth, sometime after.

They had the food truck retrieval on their agenda today. But before that, the ladies, and everyone else in their unit had to carry out their scheduled morning workout. 

Olivia walked to the gym downstairs feeling fresh after the much needed shower. Everyone had retreated to their quarters last night, matted with sand and sweat, only cleaning themselves with a wet towel owing to water scarcity in the camp. As she reached the open doorway to the gym, she instantly spotted Schmidt lifting weights with the other men. A boombox sat on a table on one corner, blasting rock music from its speakers.

“The level of testosterone in this place is maddening,” Sloan groaned from beside her.

Olivia whinced as the song played a displeasing high note of an electric guitar. The gruff laughter of the men, along with the loud music was not the first thing she wanted to wake up to. “How about we go to the roof instead?” Olivia suggested, shrugging her shoulders. 

Half an hour into their workout, Sloan groaned under the heat. She pulled her blond hair up in a bun and sat on the ledge of the rooftop. Olivia got a couple more of her crunches done, the back of her t-shirt sticking to her body with her sweat. Sierra was staying put in a plank, Olivia always admired how this woman, even after bearing two kids, had an excellent core strength.

“Look at these guys,” Sloan commented, looking down from the roof. “They so bulky and unkempt.”

Olivia sat up, crossing her legs and grabbing her bottle of water. “You checking out the SF guys?”

“Yeah. Yesterday one of them, BJ was he? Was staring at my ass as I walked past him.”

Sierra stood up from her plank position and walked up to where Sloan sat. She ran a hand through her brown bob and looked down at the men. “I don’t know, they look rough and tough. Like, come on, they aren’t exactly Abercrombie & Fitch, but some of them are easy on the eyes.”

“Syverson, you mean?” Sloan nudged her friend. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you let out that low whistle when he spoke.”

“You know I am weak for the southern twang. And has a buzz cut ever looked that sexy on anyone?”

Olivia rolled her eyes watching Sierra fan herself while Sloan shook her head in disbelief. Pushing herself off of the floor, Olivia stretched her arms above her head. “Tell that to your British husband.” She poked the tip of her empty bottle in Sierra’s belly.

“Come on, Sarge. Tell me you didn’t find the Captain sexy.” Sierra wiggled her eyebrows at Olivia, giving her shoulders a shake too.

“Maybe she’s missing Captain Coop,” It was now Sloan’s turn to wiggle her eyebrows suggestively. She jumped down from the ledge and grabbed her own bottle. “Tell us, Sarge. Is he good in bed?”

“I think he’s so vanilla. Syverson seems like hot chocolate. Yum.” Sierra content with her comment, laughed along with Sloan. With her arm perched on Sloan’s shoulder, Sierra waited for an answer from their Sergeant.

“Guys, we have important work to do today.” Olivia let out her braid, letting her sweaty hair dry. “Come on,” she tilted her head towards the broken door of the roof.

Both women rolled their eyes at her, not stretching the topic further. Although when they were walking away, Sierra added a cheeky “I bet Syverson is an ass-man,” making Olivia shake her head.

But now that she was alone, she allowed herself a moment to think. She wouldn’t lie to herself, she found Sy to be very appealing to the eyes. The command he had over his men was also palpable. He hadn’t addressed them in front of her, but even in a laid-back manner, they seemed to be respectful of him.

With a warmth creeping on her already flushed skin, Olivia's thoughts turned to how he had checked her out. He was trying to be discreet, but she had noticed how his gaze had washed over hers when she had stood in front of him in the office. But, she was no innocent maiden either. Like for instance, when he had been looking down towards the map, pointing out the routes and places to hit for the food truck, she had noticed a few details about him. They were subtle attributes like the bridge of his nose, how his lashes looked thicker than hers, how his scruffy beard concealed most of his face, making her fingers tickle with the urge to touch it.

Olivia let out a slow breath, turning to look beyond the compound. It was not the time, or the place to be thinking about the physical features of her captain. They were in the middle of a war and she was here for a particular mission. Besides, she wasn't sure they were on good terms right now.

Shouldn’t have lashed out at him about being checked out when I was doing the same to him.

Her eyes fell towards the Humvees getting prepped with ammo and men getting ready to head out. She was bunching up her damp hair, to tie it up in an army regulated 'bun' to avoid violation of the dress code, when she caught sight of the Captain.

Sy stood in a black t-shirt and cargo shorts, holding a cup in his hand. A green spray-painted German Shepherd stood near his feet, wagging it’s tail and tongue lolling out of it’s mouth. The more Olivia looked at Sy the more she leaned towards agreeing that Sierra was right. Buzz cut hair never looked so good on anyone she had ever met.

Olivia’s mouth fell open when Sy looked up towards the roof, directly at her. Her hands fell down to her sides as they both stared back at each other. She watched as a smirk appeared on his bearded face while he brought his cup up to his mouth. Even from this distance she could notice how after taking a sip he licked his lips, darting only the tip of his tongue out.

“Yo, Red!” The sudden call from Schmidt standing just below the one-story building, wearing his gear and black sunglasses covering his eyes, broke the semi-trance Olivia had going on with Syverson. “We need to roll out.”

She nodded at her comrade, throwing a last look at a smiling Sy, before heading down towards their room. This was unacceptable. Get your head in the game, Liv. She scolded herself, a frown forming on her face as she ran down the stairs.

It was almost sundown when the troops finally came back to Warhorse. Olivia let the chopper hover over the camp while the last of the Humvee travelling behind the tarp-covered truck, entered the compound. They had noticed a few cars driving up to the mountain while the on-ground crew had spoken to the truck driver. Olivia was aware that they weren’t supposed to fire until they were getting attacked, but her fingers had hovered over the trigger to their machine guns attached to the chopper as a precaution. 

Luckily for them, the cars had driven off without any sort of trouble. The rest of their route back had been mostly uneventful with one of their men singing “Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain” making everyone laugh over the comms. Olivia, unlike her own no-nonsense superiors, usually let her unit members have fun from time to time. She believed to earn respect, it wasn't necessary to make them bend the knee to her.

As soon as the skids hit the dirt, her eyes seemed to lock onto Syverson. He stood near their main wing in the same clothes, patting on the backs of his men as they walked back to their building.

“That seemed easy,” Schmidt cracked his neck, shrugging his shoulders to loosen his muscles. She could also feel the stiffness in her neck from sitting in the chopper, tensed and worried about the ground force. “This will feel like a vacation, huh Red? Work only once a week.” He laughed, joining the other men as they jumped out of their vehicles.

She smiled at him, stopping to watch the SF men helping her guys to unload the contents of the food truck. She spotted a body walking towards her from the corner of her eyes. She chose to look on ahead, counting the number of crates being offloaded, without glancing to her side.

“You did good, Red.” Sy’s gruff voice sounded from beside her. The use of her nickname sent weird sparks down her spine. “You scared off everyone with your chopper blades.”

Olivia couldn’t help but let herself smile. She would like to believe she did scare off the insurgents. “Would that suffice for everyone?” She jutted her chin, indicating the cartons of food being placed on the ground.

Sy let out a heavy sigh. “Will have to. Can’t let the locals suffer because of us.”

“What if they don’t care about us helping them?”

“We still do it. That’s our job.” She looked to Sy after he spoke. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pursed together as he observed his boys taking the cartons to storage. Her eyes lingered on his, the evening sun making them look like two limpid pools of blue. She was aware she was staring but in a deeply cliched moment, she couldn’t avert her eyes.

“Like what you see, Sergeant?” The smugness in his voice was unmistakable. She quickly looked away and down towards her shoes, vaguely noticing the sand stuck to the eyelets and the scuff marks on the toe caps. 

Even though her ears warmed up from being caught red-handed, she was quick in gathering her wits around the awkward moment. She looked up again without much consideration towards him and turned to walk away. But before she was out of his ear shot, she couldn't resist adding, “I’ve seen better.”

Sy’s laugh, loud and filled with spirits, made her bite her lip as she smiled and sauntered back to their designated wing. Two things she was glad about right now. One, about Schmidt being right, this definitely felt more like a vacation. And two, Syverson and her weren’t exactly butting heads.

Olivia refused to accept it, but it really warmed her heart and she looked forward to the coming days.

Chapter Three>

✨Series Masterlist✨

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[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Hiii i saw your matchups/cakes and I LOVE THEM. English is not my first language so i am sorry for any wrong spelings and grammar use lol. Can a Get a boy from Hq?????? I am a capricorn, with a lot of fire sign in my chart. ISTP. Tall girl, 175cm. Dark blond hair to under my shoulders, blue eyes. Lean bulid, but mby a little broad shoulders and waist. Enything else is normal ig. I indeed have cheek bones and jawline, a caps face traits a think. Stretch marked on my ass and things. Im just gonna keep my personality short cuz i dont know how to talk about myself. Im Shy and intro and first, then i will open up and become a messy and late-coming person. Im never on time to anything. Once you know me and logical thinking, feisty, dark humor type of funny, sly, stubborn, determind, strong minded, oberetiv and a daredevil. I will do enything for somthing in return. Nobody can hold me back. I am also a Clumsy person, a will let a word og two slip and offend somone, will break or forget somthing. Im always there my friends, help them out with everthing and my door is always open for them. Street smart all the way, i Can talk about enything and give tips and trix on enything. Im not the Life of the party, in a party im either outside or taking care of Ppl or i am sipping for other ppls drinks. I listen to pop/rock but i Can vibe to anything. I also love pasta. And cats, but im allergic): I overthink a lot, tend to bottle up on my emotions and then just let it burst when im alone. I got bullied as a kid, thats why i keep to myself and have Some close friends and then friends i dont trust that much. I like long lasting realtionships and friendships. I wont settle for somthing that i dont belive will work. I just want to feel safe and loved and held, lol. Am i rly ugly cryer btw so i wont look into another persons eyes. I train a lot, do sport shooting, wresle a lot with my friends and dad in a safe way ofc. I love to have a friendly and funny wtesle. I lough a lot. I said i do sport shooting, and i hate it when ppl take it the wrong way and starts to compare it to illegal activity. That my biggest pet peeve, and loud chewers. I LOVE CHEES AND CARD GAMES. Also late night means and snacks. My favorite time is like late at night, after sundown. Late night walks. Laser tag or paint ball is a must, Water and pillow fights AGH my dreams. Also, just to chill in a bathtub👌🏻✨Pfffff Idk what more. I would like a boy form Haikyuu, whos taller than me. Would be up to my randome and mby dangerous ideas, but also calm and relaxing when it fits the mood. Dosent need to know how to comfort a crying person, just like do the basics and ill be fine. THANK YOU SO MUCH😘

@sussebassen

Romantic Matchup

Tendou Satori

How Y’all Met

Ahhhh

Y’all had a class together

And EVERY SINGLE DAY you would show up late

Every. Single. Day

It doesn’t matter if you we’re 5 minutes late, or 15 minutes late

You never showed up on time

This peeked Tendous interest...

So, he asked you about it

You then explained how you never try to be late, it just always happened

Then one day

Satori was walking to class

The bell was going to ring soon so he was trying to hurry

Then he saw you

You were also just trying to get to class ON TIME for once

But you tripped...

And you fell...

And ALL of your papers went everywhere 🥲

You silently cursed to yourself before rushing to pick up your things

And you we’re startled when a certain redhead began to help you

You guys had gathered all of your things before RUNNING to get to class

And you guys were still able to make it on time 😃

The teacher made a remark that maybe you should hang around Tendou more often if it gets you to class on time

Little did he know that you would do just that

Apparently you both had similar interests

So you guys became really good friends

And feeling began to bloom over time

Poor bb was to scared to confess to you tho :(

He didn’t want to scare off one of the only friends he had

Of course he told all of this to Ushijima

And of course Ushijimas LOUD MOUTH

spilled the beans

Unintentionally of course

But still

He just didn’t get the gist that all of this was supposed to be a secret

So one day when he and Tendou were walking together

They saw you

And Ushijima was just like “ah your that person that Tendou likes correct?”

You:😳

Him:🙂

Tendou: 🥲

Tendou then took you aside and properly confessed his feelings

He was 100% sure you were gonna reject him

“I like you too Tendou”

I’m sorry what????

He was SHOCKED

Baffled

Beguiled

But SUPER DUPER HAPPY

he pulled you in for a bone crushing hug

And promised to be the best bf ever

Awww my boy luvs ya

What They Love About You

Ight I’m just gonna say it...

Mans ADORES your stretch marks

He thinks they’re so cool!!!

He often compares you to a tiger because of them

Oof

He LOVES your sense of humor

He also has a darker sense of humor

So you guys mesh very well when it comes to that

Loves that you have the combo of being sly and a daredevil

If there’s one thing satori loves...

It’s pranks

So those traits of yours make pranks so much easier to pull off 😩

He loves how he can talk to you about ANYTHING

He knows that if he’s ever distressed about something he can go to you

So he’s vv grateful for that 🙏

Favorite Things To Do Together

Oh he LOVES to play card games

His favorites is slap Jack

WARNING: he gets REALLY into that game

So he hits HARD

So be prepared...

He 100% swoops you away to stores in the middle of the night

Have you guys been caught sneaking out?

Yes

Was that the last time you did it?

Absolutely not

LASER TAGGGGGG

YOU WILL GET DESTROYED

MANS IS THE KING OF LASER TAG

So just take that L

Also paintball

He’s not that good at paintball

Mans aim is booty

But he still likes to play!

Random Hc

You’d actually be quite shocked on how chill he could be

Like sometimes he just reads his manga sin silence

If you want to talk then sure

But those are the moments he prefers to be quiet

The reason he’s so good at laser tag...

Is because kids used to target him 🥲

So he had to adapt...

And now he’s a pro!

If you ever want to talk to him about your bullyed past

ON GOD mans is always there for you

He knows what it feels like

So his goal is to comfort you when it comes to that

Honestly

Mf chews loud...

So that’s something you’d have to work on 😃

But he’ll try his best to stop if it bothers you THAT much

Astrology

Capricorn + Taurus

When Taurus and Capricorn come together in a love match, it’s a practical, sensible partnership.

These two Signs share a certain down-to-earth logic and interest in efficiency.

Taurus is not interested in risking more than is necessary in terms of emotional connection and involvement, and Capricorn is similarly disinterested in risk, but more in terms of money and career.

Capricorn’s career is one of the great focuses of their lives; they’re interested in scaling the heights and tend to set very high standards for themselves to adhere to.

Taurus has high standards as well, but regarding love, relationships and possessions.

These two signs admire ones dedication and strength, but, while they have this in common as well as a dependable, realistic, somewhat conservative approach to life (Capricorn more than Taurus), a love relationship between them can go stale fast.

The problem? They’re actually rather different at their cores.

Taurus may begin to find Capricorn too conservative and restrictive

Capricorn may start to think Taurus is too lazy and doesn’t care enough about career and status.

If Taurus can encourage Capricorn to relax a little and appreciate the fruits of labor, and if Capricorn can help motivate Taurus to achieve goals and make dreams a reality, their union can be smooth, happy and long-lasting.

Overall Aesthetic

Chaotic Teenage Romance

Songs

Electric Love- BØRNS

Line Without a Hook- Ricky Montgomery

Scrawny- Wallows

Hey Lover- Wabie

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 3

Summary: You, a fantasy-loving LARPing human from Earth, got dropped into Middle-Earth with no recollection of the place except for bits and pieces. Lord Fabulous Elvenking has given you three days to find the portal from which you came, with the aide of his son Legolas, who you've taken to calling "Blue-Eyes." If you don't find the portal, you're to be taken back to the palace for a swift execution...

Chapter No.: Chapter 2

Key:

[Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: I actually researched the languages using a website called elfdict,but I don’t know if the orcish is correct...

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir lives, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

Starting at dawn every day, you, Legolas, and the troop of Elves searched repeatedly for the portal. You threw yourself off of the tree countless times. You laid in the spot for hours. At one point, the Elves had even used some kind of sheet made of leaves and their supernatural strength to fling you up like a trampoline to see if the portal was aboveground.

Nothing happened.

As the days wore on, you grew more and more bitter. Every move felt exhausting, and like there was no use: you couldn't get back to your family.

You couldn't live here. There seemed to be no point of your existence anymore.

Somewhere around sunset of the second day, Blue-Eyes noticed your sudden lack of enthusiasm. "May I ask what troubles you?"

You scoffed. "Why do you care? I'll be dead in about forty-eight hours anyway. What I feel doesn't matter."

"I beg to differ," Legolas took a seat beside you; you scooted a couple of inches away. "You are in our world now, so you will go to our gods for judgement when you die."

You frowned. You'd always been kinda an atheist. "The Valar?"

Legolas nodded. "Yes. The Valar. Your feelings before death will determine whether or not you'll be given a good place among them."

You rolled your eyes. "You're kidding, right? They'll judge me for being pissed off and upset 'cause I can't get back to my own world to see my family, then killed just for breathing on Lord Fabulous's precious trees? They can go fuck themselves."

His face was priceless. If you hadn't been so pissed, you might've laughed. "...Lord... Fabulous? And, while I have my doubts about your recent hand gesturing, I do know that what you just said is most likely vulgar. Have respect for the Valar."

You snorted. "First of all, fabulous means somebody who loves dressing in the best and most well-liked outfits of the time, while also being very uppity and acting like they're God's gift to humanity. Second of all, yeah, that is vulgar, and no I will not take it back. Third, how fucking dare you, sir, to tell me to respect some candy-ass bitches up in the sky who'll judge me for having feelings."

Legolas shook his head. "Alright, ass is a word we do have here, as is candy. I can get the gist of that meaning. I cannot force you to have respect for them, especially when they brought you here."

You glared at him. "Yeah, whatever. Just leave me alone."

Blue-Eyes sighed. "As you wish."

You turned away, scrunching up into yourself against the night chill.

On the edge of night...

All shall fade...

With a huff, you curled up where you were and tried to fall asleep.

**

A beautiful copper dragon sat before you on a mound of gold. "Do you think flattery will keep you alive?"

"N-no..." Said the silhouette of a very small person.

"No indeed," Confirmed the dragon. He began to prowl around. "You seem familiar with my name, but I don't remember smelling your kind before. Who are you, and where do you come from, if I may ask?"

The dream flipped.

You stood between two Elves in silver robes, one of which was Blue-Eyes, looking sullen. "Tell me," Said the other Elf, "Where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."

Legolas's crystal blue eyes glistened with tears, but he held them back. He'd never seemed like one to cry. "He was taken by both shadow and flame. A balrog of Morgoth."

The dream--no, vision-- changed again.

Before you was an old man in blue-gray robes with a long gray beard and pointed hat, smiling kindly up at what looked like a child. You couldn't turn your head to see. "A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins, nor is he ever early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

The visions flashed in your mind quickly now, too fast for you to discern much from them.

"Sauron's forces are massing in the east."

"This is no mere ranger! He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. You owe him your allegiance."

"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king."

"I ain't droppin' no eaves, Mister Frodo!"

"I choose a mortal life."

"The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!"

"He is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, the true King under the Mountain."

"You have the gift of foresight. What did you see?"

"Arwen..."

"What did you see?"

"I saw death. Your death."

"But there is also life. You saw my son."

"You have my sword."

"And my bow."

"And my axe!"

"If this is what the council decides, then Gondor will see it is done."

"Things that were... Things that are... And things that have not yet come to pass."

"Did he offer you a bargain?"

"Yes. I refused."

"A bargain was our only hope..."

"Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?"

"I am fire... I am...Death."

~ominous as fuck time skip~

You woke with a start, the dragon's words still echoing in your head. You knew over half of those names, deep in your mind... Sauron, Morgoth, balrog, Thorin, Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf... You knew the voices, too. But you couldn't place any of them.

The Elves were already awake (With the sun as usual.), readying their breakfast of weeds.

You frowned. Why should you be concerned with why this place sounds familiar if you weren't going to be here much longer? You got up, and prepared to search for the portal-- you didn't want any breakfast, especially when it was nothing but dandelion fluff and sparkles.

"You are not breaking your fast?" Blue-Eyes asked you, and at first you thought he was using Elvish slang.

"You mean I'm not eating breakfast?"

"If that is how you say it in your world, yes."

You shrugged. "I'll be dead later anyway. What's the point?"

Legolas sighed. "To keep up your strength to find your way back. What if you arrive back on your world in the middle of the wilderness, like you did here? You will have no supplies, and I doubt you know much about foraging."

You huffed. "You know what? Screw off. I don't want anything to eat, and you can fucking deal with that."

He looked up in exasperation, probably praying to his Valar for you to stop being such a nuisance. "You use that word an awful lot."

"What word?"

"Fuck."

Then you almost busted out laughing, because a fancy pretty sparkly Elf, even if he was deadly, saying a modern cuss word was too funny.

He blinked. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

You snorted, crossing your arms. "Do you even know what the definition of that word is?"

"No." You gestured for him to come closer, then whispered the meaning into his ear. He sprang back wildly with wide eyes and a profoundly disgusted expression. "Dear Valar, I will never repeat a word you say again unless I am sure of what it means!" His eyes widened even further. "Wait... You just told the gods to perform impossible sexual acts on themselves! And the day before you told me to..." He stopped short, appalled.

"Yuh-huh. Just now gettin' that, goldie? For shame upon me." A thought struck you. "Wait, do Elves even have sex like humans? Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

He blushed a little. "Find the portal. Quickly." He awkwardly left, sparing you a quick glance like "wtf."

You grinned maliciously, then went back to your search.

By sundown, nothing was found. You stared down at the patch where you'd originally landed, wishing for all the world that you'd been born normal, with maybe a slight love for fantasy. Why? Why had you wished, for all of your life, that you'd been transported elsewhere? Now you were, but... You didn't have your family. Without them, you couldn't function right. You just couldn't imagine never seeing them again.

The Elves were already leaving, except for Blue-Eyes. He stood by your side for a minute, as if you were both staring at a grave. You might as well have been. "Bury me here, will you? Maybe my family will find my body. And kill me as non-messily as possible, please? Like, an arrow to the heart'll do."

Blue-Eyes stiffly patted your back. You went ramrod straight-- you'd always hated touch contact. "I will pray for you." He followed his comrades, who were already a good ways back to the river, spread out through the forest. You half considered running in the opposite direction, but you'd be dead before you even so much as got to the ridge where the first of the big dogs had attacked you.

You sighed, and forced yourself to move forward; you gasped as your ankle slipped into a rut, and you yanked it out, arms spread wide for balance. You gave the ground the dirtiest look you could muster, which quickly faded to stunned silence. You leaned down, and scraped more of the dried leaves away...

Your breath caught in your throat. "Blue-Eyes!"

Legolas was at your side in a moment. "Did you find it?"

"I don't know!" You stood and gestured to what you'd found. An inscription, in a language you couldn't read. "It was buried under the leaves."

"Can you read it?"

"Obviously not, dumbass. Is it Elvish?"

Blue-Eyes knelt, tilting his head slightly to read it. His hand grazed the writing. "It is a form of old Elvish, used in the time of Gondolin. This has been here for a very, very long time." He gave you a look. "Forgive me, I'd thought you'd written it at first." You thought about smacking him upside the head, but with everybody suddenly around you again and ready to attack, you thought better of it. Legolas turned back to the writing.

After an almost unspeakably long amount of time, you got impatient. "What's it say, dammit?!"

Legolas shook his head slowly. "I am sorry. Truly, I am. If we had seen this earlier..."

"What does it say, Legolas?!"

He stood, and looked you in the eyes, sympathetic. "'The way is shut. There is no going back. The way is shut, until next fiery moonlight.'"

Your face lit up. "R-really?! Then that means all we have to do is wait for a full moon, right?! That's usually what it is! Full moon at midnight for stuff like this, in all the books! Do you think Lord Fabulous could extend my sentence--"

"[Y/N]," It was the first time he'd used your name, and it made you freeze. "The night you arrived, the moon was full. But it was also a Firemoon. It means you cannot return to your world until the next Firemoon."

Your hopes slowly fell, but you were determined not to succumb to the panic that was quickly rising. "H-how much longer till the next one?"

Legolas put a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to understand.

"Firemoons only happen once every thousand years, [Y/N]." The words were like being hit by a semi going full speed on the highway-- sudden, fatal, and unbelievable. "You cannot go home."

Everything suddenly seemed far away, like you were seeing this from someone else's perspective. Everything went quiet, at least to you. The world seemed to spin. You dropped to your knees, and you were vaguely aware of Blue-Eyes saying, "I am sorry..."

You didn't know what to do. I can't go home... I can't go home...

I can't go home.

Your breaths came in panicked, short bursts. Even if it killed you, you took off running. Maybe if you ran for long enough, you'd wake up from this nightmare. Then you could pretend you were in some fantasy world with your family this time. You expected to be shot in the back, but you heard Blue-Eyes shout an order in Elvish, and instead, about three or four individual Elves followed you. You don't know how long you ran; tears streamed from your cheeks. Your lungs burned. Your legs felt like Jello. You collapsed at one point, and screamed, though you couldn't hear it. You screamed until your throat was raw. You were vaguely aware of a few Elves nearby, but you ignored them.

All shall...

In all the chaos, it wasn't long before you blacked out.

...Fade...

~emo time skip~

When you woke up, it was midmorning. Birds chirped endlessly on, the happiest goddamned creatures in the world. A couple of Elves talked quietly amongst themselves in hushed voices and in Elvish. You were laying on your back, and somebody had covered you up in a blanket. The smell of something good-- not that anything was, at this point--filled the air. It smelled like cinnamon and walnuts, like Christmas.

With a sigh, you cracked your swollen eyes open. Legolas sat cross-legged beside you, checking his bowstring and polishing the wood. He smiled half-heartedly at you. "You are awake."

Obviously. You didn't say anything. You didn't want to talk. Or think. Legolas sighed, placing his bow across his lap. "We must head for the palace. My father will wonder what is keeping us."

Yeah, gotta kill me as quick as possible... Death is better than this, anyway.

Legolas gave the order, and the Elves started to pack up. You laid monotone and still for the length of it, until Blue-Eyes gave you the signal to get up. Then you walked slowly behind them, every step a chore. You'd barely reached the river, and you were exhausted. And still, that damned song was going through your head...

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

All shall fade...

You knew that your dream last night had been connected to this place, whatever it was. Did that mean this song was, too? You were half tempted to ask Blue-Eyes, but you decided you weren't worthy of talking to any of these fantastical fantasy beings, even if they were going to kill you in t-minus some hours.

The company suddenly halted. Blue-Eyes had a hand raised, and all the Elves's weapons had materialized in their hands. Blue-Eyes was quiet, listening...

An eerie howl cut through the trees, chilling you to your bones. Was that one of those big dogs that carried orcs? A horn followed the howl, and all the Elves strung their bows and readied their weapons. "Gundabad yrch!" Legolas proclaimed-- you were going to assume that yrch meant orcs. He went on to give a bunch of other orders, and the Elves took off running; if it were up to you, you'd've stopped running and let the dogs have you for dinner.

But apparently Legolas seen that, and grabbed your upper arm to drag you along beside him. Damn him... The rest of the Elves were suddenly ignoring Blue-Eyes's orders. Half of them went off into the trees in the direction of the horn and howl, and the other half formed a protective circle around him-- and you, coincidentally.

Blue-Eyes barked an order at them which they ignored, but all of you stopped short when you seen what awaited you on the far bank; the way back to the palace.

Six massive wargs, more wolflike than the ones from before, with orcs a hell of a lot uglier than the ones from before sitting atop their backs, with black bows and jagged, haphazard swords. In the direction the other Elves had gone, there was more howling. Shit. If you cared about your survival right now, you'd've been terrified. But you almost enjoyed the thought of death, if it hadn't been so gruesome.

Blue-Eyes scanned the bank. There were more orcs nearby, on foot, and several more wargs. One of the Elves moved faster than you could see, snatching a sleek gold horn on his hip and blowing hard before Legolas could stop him.

The Elf-- it was the one that'd found your hair dye repulsive the other day-- hardly got a note out before an arrow lodged itself in his throat. The note trailed off into a gurgle as blood sprayed from the wound. Droplets splattered onto you, and you recoiled; you'd never seen death. You'd been to a funeral once or twice, but never this. He fell backward, and the river swiftly carried his body away.

Legolas shouted an order, and the Elves readied themselves for battle. But there wouldn't be one just yet, despite the death of that Elf. The lead orc-- a nasty, pale gray orc with swollen eyes and a protruding mouth, tall and thick, his forehead covered in scars-- stepped off of his warg, which was bigger than the rest.

He came about halfway before stopping. "A truce?" One of the Elves asked-- Common was probably hard to speak for orcs, so they resorted to it to keep from being understood. It made sense.

Legolas didn't take his eyes off of the orc, but shook his head. "That is Bolg, spawn of Azog the Defiler. He would not make any truce with us, nor would any other orc. They are beyond reason, and think only of blood and death." Bolg... Azog... Now you really knew these names... But why?

"Albai," The orc snarled; his voice was deep. "Dorzog ajog lum trov!"

"Emme uva!" Legolas cried. "Sin nor yara ana Aran Thranduil!"

Thranduil... You knew that name. But the fact that they were conversing in orcish and Elvish was astounding. One must've came from the other, and you were just going to assume that it was the orcish that came from Elvish.

Bolg's already disgusting face scrunched up into a frown. "Vol lat diig!" The orc raised an arm; you recognized the movement as a signal to fire. The Elves scrambled around wildly yet gracefully to avoid the arrows, but you barely moved; an arrow got you right in the bare part of your upper arm, and another grazed your ear. Still, you didn't move, praying for one to hit you in the head or heart or something. You hardly felt the pain.

As the battle took place around you, you zoned out. You caught glimpses of a bloodied Elven corpse, or a dismembered orc, and of course, blood was everywhere. The river ran red. You just wished it would end...

A grunt nearby brought you out of your trance.

It was Blue-Eyes, being pinned down by a warg's paw on his chest, another on his left arm. He flipped the dagger in his good hand and stabbed it violently into the warg's shoulder. The beast howled in agony, but only pushed down harder; Legolas's eyes widened as he realized the knife was stuck. The warg snarled, and opened its jaws, savoring the taste of fear before it would bite down...

None of this is his fault. He shouldn't have to die.

The warg had dismissed you as unthreatening. One of the Elves lay dead on the rocks nearby, a longblade in her hand as she stared with unseeing eyes to the sky, mouth agape. You snatched the weapon from her already-stiffening grasp. It was heavy. But it was sharp as hell.

In two leaps, you'd reached the warg, which looked to you in confusion, then recognition, with a growl. You brought the sword down, slicing deep into the creature's face. It wailed in an echo of a voice, and released Legolas, pawing at the wound; Legolas whipped his bow out like an OP follower and shot that dog point blank.

You let go of the hilt, stunned. Blue-Eyes inclined his head. "You have my deepest thanks, [Y/N.]. You saved my life."

You just nodded in shock.

Legolas raced back into the battle, leaving you to your own. Another horn blew, this one like the one the Elf that'd been shot first had blown. A barrage of arrows flew from the trees, felling every orc and warg in seconds. Some grazed you, but none touched any of the surviving Elves.

A she-Elf in a dark green tunic, carrying a longbow, loped out of the woods with her comrades. She was beautiful, with red hair so long it went past her waist. "Legolas!" She cried, and he responded in Elvish; again, you couldn't understand what they were saying, and it was really starting to piss you off.

"[Y/N]," Blue-Eyes called to you, and you belatedly looked up. He and the ginger were approaching you sollemnly. "This is Tauriel, Captain of the Guard. She will take you back to the palace and explain what happened here." Ah... Death at last.

"Tauriel," Legolas turned to her; something shone in his eyes. You recognized his spark, but not hers, but the thought quickly left your head when you registered what he was saying. "Tell my father that they saved my life."

"What?" Tauriel looked impressed, and bowed her head to you. "You have my thanks, mellon."

"Perhaps he will spare them from execution in repayment," Legolas pointed out, and Tauriel made an 'o' face.

She bowed respectfully. "I will make sure of it, my prince."

Wut.

Oh, right. Blue-Eye's dad was Lord Fabulous, king of these Elves. Of course that'd make him a prince. Prince Legolas Gr... Of the Wood... Rea... The thought was like an echo. You couldn't catch it.

Legolas nodded to you, and Tauriel lead you away from the carnage of the river battlefield.

~time skip~

"Saving my son does not grant you my utmost favor," Lord Fabulous glared down at you like you were a nasty piece of gum he'd stepped on in flip-flops. "But it does warrant some form of reward. I am sure you wish for your execution to be cancelled?"

On autopilot, you nodded. You didn't want to die, but you didn't want to live. You just wished you'd never have existed in the first place, that way none of this would've happened.

Lord Fabulous Elvenking snorted, like he was hoping you'd just ask for cake before you were beheaded. "Of course. Take them to their cell."

Tauriel wasn't as rough as Legolas, or even any of the guards had been, but she still held you firmly. "Would you like a change of clothes? I could also arrange for a washbasin to be brought to you."

You just nodded. Couldn't you just dissipate? But, if it'd taken nineteen years for this wish to come true, then it'd take another nineteen years for you to disappear. You were an Elf now, so that should pass in one painful blink of an eye...

"I am sorry that you could not find the portal," Tauriel told you as she locked the door to your cell. "I will have the guards bring you something to eat at once."

You laid down on your cot, curled up, and closed your eyes. You heard the guard come and deliver the food, then leave quietly, but you still didn't move. You didn't move when Tauriel brought you clothes and a bucket of water and rags, you didn't move when Blue-Eyes came to thank you again, you didn't move when a rat came and took your cheese. You just laid there, staring and feeling dead on the inside.

You refused to eat or drink for the next few days. You slept, mostly. When you were awake, you were crying silently. You dreamed of your family. You grieved. Your muscles cramped from sleeping in one position for days. Your stomach felt like it was going to eat you alive. Your mouth was as dry as sandpaper. A hollow ache had settled in the core of your torso, between your heart and lungs; a pulsing orb of sadness, regret, and the wish to disappear. A couple of times, you passed out from hunger while laying down. But you were an Elf, so it'd be hard for you to starve.

You kept count of the days by the cycle of guards exchanging meals. Every tray held different things for different mealtimes: fruits and bread for breakfast, cheese and bread for lunch, and a thick vegetable soup for dinner. About nine days went by before anyone came to check on you, and by that point, you were hysterical on the inside. On the outside, you were catatonic.

And you reeked, because you hadn't had a shower in like, awhile.

After two battles.

So you weren't at your best.

"My guards tell me you refuse to sustain yourself." It was Blue-Eyes. "Do you realize how much of an offense that is to his majesty? He allows you to live, and yet you seek death out deliberately."

You said nothing. Hell, your eyes didn't even move. With a sigh, Blue-Eyes moved to your bedside. "Ah, I see you have also refused to bathe..." You didn't crack a smile. Even on the inside, you hardly felt a twinge of amusement. You felt... Empty.

Legolas surprised you by placing a hand on your cheek. "You miss them, don't you?"

Tears welled in your eyes. Dammit stop making me have feels. Ah, but feels you had, my friend, and you started bawling into your pillow. Legolas shushed you, and petted your head and told you it would be alright. You don't know how long you cried, but at one point, Legolas and Tauriel switched places, even though she clearly didn't want to and sucked at emotional talking.

When it was Legolas's turn again, you'd finally gotten to the nearly-finished state of hyperactive wheezing. "How long were you holding that in, I wonder?" You still didn't answer. He gave you a sympathetic smile. "You saved my life. Let me help you save yours. Get up. You will eat, even if I must force it down your throat, and once you're full, you'll bathe. After, I will take you for a tour of Mirkwood. You'll be living here, now... I suppose it's only right you learn how to navigate your homeland."

Finally, it clicked.

"Wh...What did you say...?" Your voice was hoarse from underuse and crying, but it still worked.

Legolas gave you a concerned look, like that much crying might've damaged your hearing. "I said I will take you for a tour of Mirkwood--"

You sat up; too fast, but you sat up. Your sugar dropped. But you had to know. "Mirkwood... Where is that?"

Legolas frowned. "East of the Misty Mountains, west of Erebor, home to the dwarves and the King Under the Mountain. North of Ithilien, Gondor, and northeast to Lothlorien, Ithilien, and Rohan."

Oh fuck.

"Wh-what is this place called? In general? Collectively? Like, the whole continent?"

Legolas seemed to finally realize that you were crazy. "Middle-Earth."

Oh hell.

"Holy shit..."

"What is it?"

You couldn't remember it clearly. Hell, you could hardly remember it at all. But what you did remember finally made sense. Tolkien's fantasy masterpiece that no one can surpass... The Hobbit... Lord of The Rings... The Fellowship... Smaug, Thorin, Bilbo... Aragorn, Arwen... Thranduil, Legolas, Tauriel... Oh gods, Legolas! "I-I... The books... Oh, gods..."

"Mellon...?"

You promptly fell face-first off the bed before any half-assed explanation could be given to poor Golden Boy.

"[Y/N]?!"

...

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

And there are many paths to tread...

Through shadow, to the edge of night...

Until the stars are all alight...

Mist and shadow...

Cloud and shade...

All shall fade...

All shall...

...Fade...

Tag List: @tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​

[katedoesfics]

The Great Calamity

Chapter Three - Vah Medoh (Revali's Flap)

A few days after their return from Kakariko Village, Zelda and Link left Hyrule Castle once more, this time making the journey to Rito Village to check on the Divine Beast Vah Medoh. After traveling most of the day, they stopped at the Tabantha Bridge Stables for the night, letting the horses rest.

Link untacked the horses, allowing them to graze as they settled in for the night. He put the saddles carefully down on the ground beside the fire and dug two apples out of the saddlebags, one for Epona and one for Storm. The horses took their treats eagerly out of Link’s hands and he patted their necks before returning to the fire where Zelda continued to examine the Sheikah Slate, convinced that there was something she had overlooked.

“I wonder if this thing has any connection to those Guardians,” she said as Link sat across from her.

Link pulled out two more apples, tossing one to Zelda before taking a bite out of his own. He looked into the fire thoughtfully, considering the possibility she had suggested.

Zelda sighed and let the slate rest on the ground beside her. She stretched her legs out in front of her and bit into the apple. “Or maybe the Divine Beasts,” she continued thoughtfully. Her brows knit together. “It must. Why else would the Sheikah have created such an item? It wasn’t by accident. But nothing I do seems to work…” Her voice trailed off and she took another bite out of her apple. She finished it in silence, then tossed the core into the fire.

“Impa’s no help at all,” she muttered. “How can she know so little about it?” She looked up at Link who had finished with his own apple and was nibbling on a carrot. She met his gaze and raised a brow towards him.

“What?”

“There’s an entire forest of boar and deer,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Why don’t you cook one of those up while you’re at it?”

Link seemed to consider this for a moment as he finished his carrot. “I’ve never had boar before.”

Zelda scrunched her nose at him and turned her gaze to the horses. She wasn’t exactly in the mood for conversation. And if she had it her way, they would still be on the road. But Link insisted that the horses need their rest, even though Rito Village wasn’t much further away.

She stretched out next to the fire on her stomach, the Sheikah Slate in her hands once more as she turned it over. She crossed her ankles together, her feet in the air, as she occupied herself with the device. She mumbled to herself from time to time until she could only see by the light of the fire and finally put the slate down once more. She let her chin rest in her palm as she looked across the fire at Link, who was stretched out on the other side, his head against his own saddle, his face turned to the sky and his eyes closed. Beside him, the Master Sword rested on the ground.

She peered curiously at the sword, her mind drifting to the events that had taken place ten thousand years ago, and the hero that wielded it then. If the legends held true, then it made sense that Link, a descendant from that hero long ago, would come to be the Chosen One, just as she, a descendant from Hylia, would have the sealing power inside of her to stop Ganon once and for all.

But all the talk of destinies and legends made her head hurt. Years and years of training for a moment that had yet to arrive, all because legend foretold it. She sighed and closed her eyes to the warmth of the fire. Why did it have to be her?

*****

When Zelda awoke the next morning, Link was busy saddling the horses in preparation to continue their trip to Rito Village. Zelda got to her feet and stretched her arms over her head. The morning was cool, and she knew it was just going to get colder as they neared the village. Link, of course, knew that too, and he tossed her one of the cloaks packed in the saddlebags.

Zelda tossed it over her shoulders and climbed onto Storm as Link mounted Epona. Without a word, they pushed the horses into a gallop and continued on their way to the village. They didn’t slow until the village loomed before them. By this time, it was midmorning, and Zelda couldn’t help but to feel aggravated that they had stopped for the night. But she pushed the thought aside as she caught a glimpse of the Divine Beast soaring over the village.

Link, too, had his eyes turned to the sky as they rode side by side. Even at this distance, he could tell it was a very large machine, yet it drifted so easily though the air, silently. He couldn’t blame Zelda for being so curious about them.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Zelda said. Despite her earlier aversions to Link, Zelda was growing acclimated to his presence, at least to a point where it was more tolerable.  Still, she was skeptical of him, especially since he hardly spoke a word to her. But she spoke nonetheless as they rode side by side, voicing her thoughts out loud, whether he cared to hear them or not.

Mostly, she mused about the Sheikah Slate, the Guardians, and the Divine Beasts. But as they neared Rito Village, she began to wonder about some mysterious columns that supposedly rested far beneath Hyrule Castle.

“I’ve searched every inch of the castle,” she said. “There is absolutely no sign of any column, despite what I’ve read.” She sighed lightly, looking out over the horizon. “The only conclusion I can come to is that the columns are only meant to reveal themselves as a defense against Calamity Ganon. They must be buried deep underground. But I can’t help to wonder how they got there in the first place.” Her voice trailed off in thought.

Link looked ahead of them as Rito Village grew larger as they neared. When they arrived at the foot of the village, they dismounted and followed the steps up as it circled around the tall, rock formation that made up the village. Link looked around like a wide eyed child, admiring the colorful feathers of the Rito as they went about their business. They were a tall, elegant race. Tall like the Gerudo, the Zoras, and the Gorons. Why in Hylia were Hylians so short in comparison?

He hurried after Princess Zelda, feeling like a tiny puppy, despite the powerful sword that rested on his back. They continued to ascend the village until they finally reached the elder, Kaneli, who waited at the highest point of the village. He was alone when they entered but more than happy to see their safe arrival.

“Revali has been working day after day with that Divine Beast,” Kaneli told them. “He’s there from sun up to sundown. He doesn’t rest. Truly determined to master the controls of that machine.”

“I’d like to get to the Divine Beast,” Zelda said. “To make some adjustments to and make sure Revali has it under control.”

Kaneli nodded. “Teba can take you up to Vah Medoh,” he said. “I’m quite certain Revali is already up there.”

Kaneli guided Zelda and Link to the landing platform in the village where the white Rito warrior, Teba, waited. He seemed less than thrilled to be tasked with bringing the princess up to the Divine Beast but obeyed the elder nonetheless. Link watched as Teba and Zelda soared into the sky towards Vah Medoh as the Divine Beast floated along, circling the village.

The air was much cooler at this altitude, and a cold breeze chilled Link slightly as he waited on the platform. However, he was not alone. Three curious young Ritos moved cautiously towards him, their eyes wide as they gazed upon him. Feeling their presence, he turned to them and offered a smile.

“Is that really the Master Sword?” one of them asked.

Amused by their curiosity, Link grinned and pulled the sword from its sheath. Their little beaks dropped opened as the blade glinted in the sunlight. They murmured amongst each other as Link lowered himself to his knees, allowing them to see the sword with their own eyes.

“I told you,” the older one said, shoving his friends with his little wings. “I told you it was real.”

The smallest one met Link’s gaze with worried eyes. “Does that mean Calamity Ganon is real, too?”

Link hesitated, then shrugged. “If he were, I wouldn’t be here,” he reassured them.

“Duh,” the middle one said. “He’s gonna go fight it, remember?”

“You’re gonna fight the Calamity?” the smaller one asked, looking on in awe.

Link nodded and returned the sword to its sheath.

“Revali said he’s gonna fight, too,” the older one said proudly. “And he’s pretty brave. I bet he could take out the Calamity all by himself.”

Link got to his feet. “I’m sure he could,” he said. Clearly they idolized the Rito Champion.

Their little eyes turned up to the sky, watching the Divine Beast as it drifted over head. Their eyes followed something Link could not see and they took off giggling and playing, leaving Link alone on the landing platform. Link turned his gaze to the sky, watching the Divine Beast Vah Medoh with curious eyes as it drifted overhead. The wind picked up suddenly and Link took a step back, watching as a familiar blur of indigo swirled up in the air like a twister before him. Revali’s wings spread open as he let himself down gracefully onto the edge of the platform. He crossed them over his chest with a smirk as he looked down at Link.

“Impressive, I know,” Revali said with confidence. “Very few can achieve a mastery of the sky. Yet I have made an art of creating an updraft that allows me to soar.” His wings moved in the air as he spoke, as if to show off his strength and gusto. “It’s considered to be quite the masterpiece of aerial techniques, even among the Rito. With proper utilization of my superior skills, I see no reason why we couldn’t easily dispense with Ganon.”

Revali clasped his wings together behind his back. He took a step down off the railing, speaking as he walked towards the young Hylian knight. He gazed down condescendingly. “Now then, my ability to explore the firmament is certainly of note. But let’s not - pardon me for being so blunt - let’s not forget the fact that I am the most skilled archer of all the Rito.” He paced circles around Link. “Yet despite these truths, it seems that I have been tapped to merely assist you. All because you happen to have that little darkness sealing sword on your back. I mean, it’s just… asinine.”

Revali turned away for a moment, then narrowed his eyes at Link. His beak pulled up just slightly at the corners in a grin. “Unless you think you can prove me wrong? Maybe we should just settle this one on one? But where?” He looked up into the sky as if stuck in some predicament, as if he needed to prove his worth to anyone like Link. “Oh, I know! How about up there?” He pointed a wing towards the Divine Beast as it soared high in the sky.

Revali turned back to Link with a wide, condescending grin, and laughed. “Oh, you must pardon me. I forgot you have no way of making it up to that Divine Beast on your own!” He turned his back to the knight and spread his wings, then shot up into the air. “Good luck sealing the darkness!” he shouted down to Link before flying up towards Vah Medoh and disappearing into the clouds.

Link watched as Revali disappeared and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the arrogant Rito. It wasn’t like he volunteered for the duty as Hero of Hyrule, but of course Revali would not see it that way. He sat on the edge of the platform, turning the Master Sword over in his lap, and waited for Princess Zelda to return.

[rose-of-gabriel]

Left Me Cold

Made a Starmora fic. woo hoo. link to Ao3

The mission had sucked ass. Yeah, it was technically a success, but it still sucked. The small land cruiser their client had provided for the mission ended up getting blown to bits, so they had to hoof it over the mountainous terrain on foot, all while taking heavy fire because why the hell not. Still, they all made it out alive, and their client hadn’t even tried to short change them on account of the destroyed cruiser, so Peter really shouldn’t bitch. He’s still going to, but he really shouldn’t.

His legs are getting stiffer with each step he takes and his lower back aches in a way he didn’t know it could. When they get off planet and back to the Quadrant, after injuries are dealt with and they’re locked in orbit, Peter allows himself to disappear toward the back of the ship. There’s a private bathroom that he’s pretty sure none of the others know about, considering it’s still in livable condition. He’s literally fantasizing about a shower when he opens the door to find Gamora occupying the small tub. His brain short circuits for a second before he slaps his hand over his eyes.

“Gah- shit… sorry.”

He braces himself for the yelling, but it never comes. Instead of barking at him to leave, Gamora just murmurs lazily, “It’s fine.”

This is so surprising that he risks opening one eye. Gamora’s are shut, her head resting against the rim of the tub. Peter thinks it says something about their relationship that she’s comfortable enough around him to not even care that he walked in on her. That makes him feel all kinds of shit, until he realizes that she’s sitting up to her neck in ice.

He blinks once. Twice. “Um… Gamora?”

“Hm?” She lifts a silver eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

She cracks a smile, opening her eyes just to roll them at him. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

She says it like it should be the most obvious thing in the world and Peter almost laughs. He takes a few steps closer, replying wryly, “It looks like you’re trying to pull a Captain America.”

That gets him a reluctant little smirk, the one she gives him when she doesn’t want to admit he’s funny. Then she’s looking at him earnestly, eyes taking him up and down. “Do people on Earth not take ice baths?”

Peter shrugs. “I mean, like… I don’t know. On purpose?”

Gamora ignores his obvious question and thinks for a moment. “I’ve heard it called cryotherapy before, too. Constricts the blood vessels and reduces tissue breakdown – in mammalians, anyway.” She gives him that same appraising look. “You should try it sometime.”

Peter pretends to consider it. “Mm… yeah, I think I’ll pass. Don’t want my junk shriveling into – hey!”

He recoils from the spray of ice water she flicks at him. He pouts comically, which earns a breathy laugh from Gamora that sends his heart racing. She settles back against the tub, eyes slipping shut. Peter takes that as a cue to leave, but before he can move a muscle, Gamora speaks up.

“My parents were field hands. Most of our neighbors worked on the same plantation they did.” She glances at Peter, eyes beckoning him closer. He scans the room and decides to just perch himself on the opposite end of the tub.

(It’s not like he can see anything he’s not supposed to. She’s literally covered in ice.)

Satisfied, Gamora continues, “It was hard work, sunup to sundown. Every night I’d help them carry buckets of ice into the house. They’d take turns, holding each other’s hands and venting about their day.” Peter’s whole body is warmed by the fond expression on her face, though it doesn’t last. Swallowing, Gamora looks pointedly at the wall. “When Thanos’ training… intensified,” her breath doesn’t catch, but there’s a microsecond of hesitation that tells Peter everything, “I started doing it, myself.” As an afterthought, she adds, “The body mods help with muscle regeneration but not with pain.”

Something twists low in Peter’s gut, a raw, animalistic hatred that rears its head every time Gamora tells him about Thanos’ abuse. It tells Peter to seek and destroy, to hunt down the son-of-a-bitch and divorce his head from his body. Eventually, Peter managed to get his emotions under control. He’s never going to stop caring about Gamora, and flying into a blind rage every time she mentions the purple asshole is not helpful.

Gamora shakes her head to re-center herself and it has the same effect on Peter. She fixes him with an easy smile that – while rehearsed – isn’t entirely forced. “It’s meditative, too. At least I think it is. May be good for that overactive mind of yours.”

She says overactive like it’s the most endearing thing in the world. Peter bolsters. “Well that overactive mind is what makes me so good in battle.” And just because he can, because he’s an idiot and she accepts him anyway, he leans in and whispers, “also in other areas.”

She splashes him right in the face.

0o0o0o0

Peter needs to stop differentiating between this Gamora and his Gamora. There’s only one. The Gamora with them now is the same warrior who risked everything to protect the universe, the same woman who had the strength to endure years of torture only to empathize with others. She may not have the same experiences, but she’s the same person at her core.

His body seems to know that, the way it aches for her touch, the way it’s soothed by her presence. His body knows her, knows that this is the real Gamora. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t think to move when she walks in on him mid-ice bath.

She’s definitely not as comfortable, eyes zeroing in on the floor. “Sorry.” She says tightly. “I need to speak with you about the mission today.”

She’s totally respectful, but the formality hurts. Gamora used to know his boy better than anyone, maybe even himself. This distance, physical and emotional, cuts him to the bone. He shakes it off, though. She doesn’t need that kind of guilt on her conscience.

He says simply, “Yeah, sure. I’ll be out in ten.”

Gamora nods, turns on her heel and (to his surprise) freezes. Two… three heartbeats pass before she faces him again, actually meeting his eyes.

“That…” she gestures to the tub, “Is that… common on Terra?”

The memories weave around his heart and pull until he can’t breathe. Memories of them talking, holding each other’s hands as the minutes tick by, sometimes competing to see who could stay in the longest.

Peter swallows. “I don’t know.”

Something in his face must give him away, because Gamora’s features immediately go lax with understanding. Then she’s tense, which is the natural progression of these revelations.

“Did she-” Gamora catches herself, “Did I tell you about it?”

Peter nods. “You told me about your parents and the plantation they worked on. You told me about your training, how intense it was.”

The response he’s come to expect is Gamora’s stifled horror at the thought of revealing something so personal to him, but that never comes. Instead she’s passive, simply mulling over what he’s just said. This is better, his damn optimism chimes, We’re getting better. He waits for her to speak again. When she does, her eyes are so soft, so familiar, he nearly gasps.

“I always found it meditative.” She says, curious, “Do you?”

Nostalgia punches him in the chest again, but he recovers. “I’ve tried.” He shrugs.

Gamora nods. “You think too much.” Then quickly adds, “Sometimes. Others, I’m certain you do not think, at all.”

Despite everything, Peter smiles. Gamora’s always had that ability.

“It’s all part of the Star Lord Method.” He says, not even trying to be taken seriously.

Gamora scoffs fondly and rolls her eyes. “Of course.”

The almost-laughter between them dies and they’re left staring into each other’s eyes. Gamora searches his intently, and Peter tries to be as open as possible, let her take whatever it is she needs. There’s a flicker of… something, and then her lip is twitching up in the faintest smile.

“Find me in the hull when you’re done.”

Peter bobs his head and she slowly moves toward the door. Her head turns just slightly, like she almost looked back but stopped herself. When she’s gone, Peter is suddenly aware of the ice, again. He takes a deep breath, tries to ride that wave of optimism churning at the back of his thoughts.

He’ll find her, whoever she is now. He’ll come to know her the way he once did, and she’ll know him, in time. He’d been lucky enough to find his family the first time, even more so to piece it back together. There’s no way he’s losing her now.

[gunnerpalace]

Every Day With You is a Festival

Written for @ichirukimonth Day 29, Fireworks. Just shy of 2000 words; mostly fluff, some smut, so there is some NSFW under the cut.

I'm not sure what continuity this takes place in, to be honest. Could be canon-divergent DSM (in which case they live in a house in Karakura), or it could be the College AU of Winter Warmth (in which case they live in an apartment in Shimokitazawa).

Ichigo knew he'd made a grave mistake two and a half seconds after taking his first bite of yodaredori—mouthwatering chicken. The chicken itself was tender and juicy, but the deep red sauce it sat in, which was liberally accented with Sichuan peppercorns...

He glanced up at Rukia, using all his nerve and concentration to will his face to be neutral. It felt like someone had turned his mouth into a weapons cache and then set fire to it, with ammunition cooking off everywhere. Pretty soon the whole thing was going to go up in a single, massive, lethal pyrotechnics display.

Rukia was rather contently starting in on her beef stew with Japanese pepper oil, using a Chinese spoon to scoop it up. She had, rather sensibly, ordered it medium in heat, since they'd never had Sichuan cuisine before. They'd decided they should try something new before making their way to the festival, and had happened to spot this restaurant, Ryūmon.

She hadn't noticed him for the moment.

Ichigo glanced down at his plate again as he felt perspiration start to bead on his forehead. Just... stay calm... one bite at a time... His eyes naturally drifted over to his glass of water, and he did his best to pick it up nonchalantly, beginning to down it. It... didn't really help; it just seemed to spread the heat around. At least his yukata was loose enough that the rest of him didn't feel hot...

"Fool. You ordered something too spicy again, didn't you?"

His gaze swung back toward her with a sort of trepidatious smoothness.

Rukia was regarding him with hooded eyes and an amused look upon her face. She lifted an eyebrow slightly before taking a bite of another spoonful of stew.

"I'm fine," Ichigo rasped, his voice huskier than usual. He didn't even remotely believe the lie himself and knew she wouldn't either.

It took Rukia a moment to finish chewing—talking with her mouth full was a line her Kuchiki bearing would never allow her to cross—before she piled on. "Oh, I can tell! Mine's perfect too!"

He found his eyebrows starting to furrow. She was already enjoying his suffering. He could tell it was all she could do not to burst out laughing at him.

"Is it going to be a problem? Will we be late?" she continued, adopting her seldom-used schoolgirl voice as her face became a mask of faux concern.

He glowered at her and grudgingly took another bite of chicken. There was no way he was going to show weakness now.

Even though the Sumidagawa Fireworks Festival lasted for 90 minutes and featured 20,000 fireworks detonating overhead, Ichigo never really saw most of them with his own two eyes.

He glanced up at them occasionally, true, and he heard the thunder of them, but the prismatic blossoms and deafening blasts rolled over him without really drawing his focus.

The way he saw most of them bloom was by seeing Rukia watch them.

To him, they were mirrored in her. They were showers of sparks in her eyes. They were lights in every shade of the rainbow playfully coloring the pale complexion of her face and the pearly whites of her smile. They were her smile itself as she reacted to what she was witnessing, from subtle upticks at the corners of her mouth to ecstatic, moony grins. They were even the set of her eyes, wide with wonder or narrowed in satisfaction.

It wasn't that he didn't care about the fireworks; rather, it was that the spectacle of them paled in comparison. He just couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Ichigo didn't think she really noticed—not that he thought much of anything in front of such a sight—but when the grand finale finally died down and the skies dimmed, Rukia's eyelids drooped like curtains closing out the show, and her gaze turned toward him.

Describing the feeling of that was difficult. The crowd about them was immense, and yet it felt like... It felt like he was out by himself on a grassy plain beneath the light of a full moon, low on the horizon, and he had the sense it was there and shining for him and him alone out of everyone in the entire world. It was just him and that serene moon—just him and Rukia.

She tilted her head in a coquettish way at his expression, smirked, then gave him a beatific if coy look, batting her eyelashes. "What?"

He smiled and shook his head a little without changing his focus. "Nothing."

She looked him up and down and beamed.

The trip back home was circuitous and indirect. It wasn't often that Ichigo and Rukia had reasons or the time to head deeper into Tokyo proper, so when they did, they liked to make it special. It wasn't a big deal to make stops on their way back, or to take detours.

They got ice cream at the Cold Stone Creamery in Shibuya Station to soothe Ichigo's lingering injuries before heading down into Ebisu to idle among the izakaya.

Rukia walked hand in hand with Ichigo as they went, squeezing his fingers between hers. She found herself glad that they'd chosen to wear yukata. Even this late past sundown, the summer heat still leaked out of the pavement, and so the little breeze that wended between the buildings worked magic through the loose fabric.

It wasn't just the summer weather that was making her hot though.

She glanced sideways at Ichigo out of the corners of her eyes yet again, her gaze sweeping over him, lingering on their interlaced hands before going back to his face and his eyes—always to his chocolate eyes...

His hand warmed hers as though it was laying in the sun. But looking at him... An entirely different kind of heat suffused her lower belly. The panging there was constant, like a chain of firecrackers popping off, and had been ever since she'd caught him looking at her that way at the festival. Walking with him like this... She'd worn panties under the nagajuban beneath her yukata, and was sincerely glad for that choice, but they also made it very clear to her what a predicament she was in. This damnable man...

Why did he always have this effect on her when she least expected it?

She bit her lip and looked away, forcing herself to study the various little restaurants they were passing, but she knew it was no use. She’d catch sight of him in a reflection in a window, or enough time would pass, and her eyes would always be drawn back to his. That warmth never left her either. Maybe, if they got something to drink, the rest of her could feel that way too, and he might not notice...

"Hmm, I think I've heard of this place; they're supposed to have pretty good fried chicken," Ichigo suddenly said.

Rukia blinked and turned her head back, following his gaze. She squinted and peered at him suspiciously. "Really? You're still hungry?"

He clicked his tongue and let out a Tch! before muttering "Not really." He then turned to look at her directly, genuinely smiling as he rubbed the back of his head. "What would you like?"

Rukia blinked, her eyes widening like a deer in headlights as she found herself at the center of his attention. She was instantly aware of a blush rising on her cheeks and forced herself to frown with disinterest, once more looking the other way in a huff. What is wrong with me...?! I can't believe I'm this worked up by this fool... "Let's just get some sake or beer," she grumbled.

Ichigo kept watching her for a few seconds, then began looking elsewhere again, his smile taking on an element of consideration.

Rukia tightened her arms around Ichigo's shoulders and pressed her dainty fingers into his shoulder blades, no longer mindful of or concerned about whether her short nails dug into his skin.

His fingers were splayed across her ample rear, sunk into her supple curves to squeeze and hold her firmly, helping her bounce on him.

She gasped in air as she rode up him once more, and then pressed her face into the hollow of his neck, letting out a hot, breathy moan against his skin as he pulled her hips back down.

Perfect. Perfect was the word for him, his size, his heat, his hardness, his grip, his strength, his smell. She was slick beyond belief and moved on him with the greatest of ease, her body wrapped around his in more ways than one and his every motion blanking her mind.

A shudder worked through her as he filled her completely and hit that deep critical spot of hers yet again, and she dug her heels into the small of his back as her toes flexed as far as they could. Her head tipped back as her spine curved, her petite breasts pushing up against his chiseled chest as she moaned again against the bottom of his jaw in lewd appreciation.

Time was impossible to track anymore. Was he pausing with each thrust to press against her there, or did it just feel that way? Rukia couldn't tell, and she didn't care either. The sensation made her whole body tremble with delight and forced her thoughts to fuzz into delirium, and then he was moving again, rubbing and grinding her other most sensitive spots and setting off the whole chain-reaction anew.

Although her eyes were shut from the intensity of her pleasure, bright spots of various shades shimmered and glinted all along the edges of her vision, like the fireworks they'd seen earlier.

She weakly opened her eyes, finding it impossible to focus on anything from how bleary her sight was, and found afterimages of them still flickering. They almost seemed to dance to the beat of the waves of ecstasy echoing through her, which were gathering and gaining amplitude deep in her core, making all her muscles tighten.

Her eyes closed again from the intensity of it, and she murmured and mumbled "Aah! Mhnn!... Ichigooo...!" around her panting for breath. Y-you've g-got to let me cum, I'm g-gonna break...!

He didn't disappoint her; she pumped up and down him twice more before she found herself pulled flush to him, and then he slid out of her, and...

Her grand finale dwarfed that of the festival—for her, their darkened bedroom was gone; there was only her and him and a universe of white-hot, electric, all-consuming ecstasy. Time and space ceased to have meaning within the joy of it. She basked in it for an eternity, losing herself and all her worries.

When her own private universe's big bang finally cooled enough for simple thoughts to become possible again, she found herself slumped against him, arms still wrapped around his shoulders and neck as she clung to him.

Ichigo had reclined against the pillows to rest his head and neck against the headboard, cradling Rukia and rubbing her back as he nuzzled his face into her hair.

She kissed his throat a long time after she caught her breath and found her bearings again, shifting a little in his grasp. She was a mess down there... it was all over her lower abs, thighs, and even her rear... However, the warm, sticky feeling was comforting rather than embarrassing. Was he still hard? No...? "Did you...?" she whispered.

He only said "Yeah," kissing the top of her head. Her climax had been really wet, but could she truly not tell...?

"... Fool, you could've done it in me..." she rebuked quietly, without heat. She could've endured a little longer... maybe...

"Shut up, you're tired," he replied, starting to scoot forward with her so they could lay down.

She didn't protest and sank into his soothing grasp and warmth as sleep fell over her just like the covers did.

[gumnut-logic]

Defiant Screams

Title: Defiant Screams Chapter Five of Sotto Voce Author: Gumnut 2 - 4 Sep 2018 Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS Rating: Teen Summary: Sometimes the voices are far too loud to ignore. Word count: 3120 Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 Author’s note: Thank you so much for the cheering section for Eos. I think it was unanimous that she should go out and kick Hood butt :D So here be the kicking part :D Also, if you are interested in the Greek Titaness Eos, have a little Wikipedia read here - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eos

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

She knew John was nervous when he connected the EEG to her data network. He was pale and showed all the signs of distress in his movements. But his face was calm.

“Are you sure about this, Eos?”

“As sure as I can be, John. There is no alternative. I…we can’t lose Virgil. International Rescue can not operate without him.”

He stilled at her answer, his eyes looking towards the floor a moment before once again looking up. “And what about danger to you? We can not afford to lose you either.”

She did not answer him immediately, studying him from the safety of her processors. “I am less important.”

His eyes lit up, his voice firm. “No, you’re not.” His eyes narrowed. “What about all those self-preservation directives you declared so thoroughly when we met?” Those green eyes were burning.

She smiled to herself. “Let us say that I’ve learnt from my elders.”

“Eos…”

“Do not worry, John, I will take all due care. It will be difficult, but I believe it will be worth the risk. I’m fully backed up on Thunderbird Five, which is more than you can say each time you throw yourself into the void and I have to watch from afar unable to help.” His expression shifted to one of dismay and she realised she had said too much. “Besides, I’m planning on only sending part of myself in. Virgil’s neural network would be unable to contain all my presence and keep his stable at the same time. Think of it as me poking a finger in Virgil’s pie.” He blinked at that, and a slight smile appeared on his face. Target reaction acquired.

But he sobered quickly. “Please be careful, Eos.” Then quieter. “Be safe.”

“I will, John.”

And with that she dove through the network, reached out and touched Virgil Tracy for the first time.

-o-o-o-

Gordon stalked into his room and slammed the door behind him. For a moment he stood in the centre of the floor, hands clenching and unclenching, energy spilling across his nerves, anger, grief, despair and fury battling for dominance.

First Dad and now Virgil. His heart clenched, his kind and gentle big brother. His eyes squeezed shut, the grief overwhelming.

But the fury returned. He hadn’t been in the room when Eos relayed the Hood’s message, but Scott had made sure he knew the person responsible had been confirmed. They had until sundown.

There were no words.

But he did have a way. A way to end this for good. It stops here. No more hurt. No more pain. And vengeance for all those who had suffered at the hands of that megalomaniac bastard.

He grabbed his vidphone and made a call to an old contact from his WASP days. Gordon knew people who knew people, and Gordon had money.

It ended here.

-o-o-o-

She felt his skin burn as she entered. A flash of heat as she crossed the boundary. She winced. Sorry.

Connecting with the artificial circuitry wasn’t what she had expected. First of all, it wasn’t entirely artificial. It had a biological component. She could feel the chemical similarities between Virgil and the construct. It was made from the man. The mere thought hung her processors and increased her anger. She could also sense the tiny insentient nanites as they busily continued creating more circuitry. The web was still growing.

Despite the material differences, she found herself able to connect smoothly with the construct. Its sole purpose appeared to be an interface between the electronic and the biological. Consequently, instead of being able to hover inside the circuitry, she instead found herself face to face with Virgil himself.

Or what was left of him.

She froze in horror at the damage that had been done to his mind. Chaos reigned. Electrical and chemical misfires were flaring across his network. Pain signals drowned out everything. It was as if his brain had been hit by an electronic tsunami.

Her fury ramped up another notch. Along with her despair.

She skimmed across his network looking for his central focus. The EEG had claimed he was there somewhere. She was surprised it had not declared the anarchy that ruled. That in itself was a clue.

She hunted, touching here and there gently, tempted to right a few misfires, but in turn afraid to injure.

She almost missed it, anguish and fear taking over her processors. A flash of order. She stopped and retreated back and accidently connected with an errant signal. Piano music danced through her secondary processors. “Virgil?”

Nothing.

But there was something there, beneath the layer of music memory. It was hiding something. Protecting…she reached.

And found herself on Tracy Island.

Standing on Tracy Island.

She blinked.

And froze.

Blinked?

She scanned and found herself nested in a simulacrum of a young woman. She looked up. He had to be here somewhere. This wasn’t her representation, so it had to be his.

He was sitting on the edge of the balcony staring at her. In uniform, the familiar blue and green somewhat reassuring to her.

Virgil.

She made the simulacrum move and she was up the stairs as fast as she could go. It was fascinating to move like this. It was a visual simulation of his reality. Her sensors could reach through it to what it really was, a regimented node of electrical and chemical transmissions, interwoven and locked down for protection. He had layered himself inside this cocoon, blocking out the chaos outside, protecting his core. No wonder he was unconscious. He had retreated to his point of last defence.

She had not known it was possible to feel so much anger.

“Hello, Virgil.”

On the surface he was the human she knew from her scanners, but from this perspective she could see the intricate layers of the soul behind the man. She noticed immediately that he wasn’t fully aware. Not all processes were functioning correctly, which was to be expected, but hurt nonetheless. He was staring at her with a mixture of curiosity and fear. She could feel his defences poised. Electricity hung in the air.

“Who are you?”

“I am the dawn.”

“Eos?” He stared at her. “How?”

“You are unconscious in the IR infirmary. The Hood has implanted some circuitry in your brain in an attempt to control your actions. He is threatening your death in three point six four hours if we do not hand over information regarding our equipment.”

He stepped back, shock and fear cascading off him. More confusion. He gestured to her. “But how?”

She smiled, suddenly caught up in the novelty of her simulacrum. “Do you like it? I haven’t tried this before. It is quite exciting.” She twirled just a moment to experiment how the physics worked in this reality. As expected, the same rules applied, though apparently optional if she so chose.  A spark of anguish drew her attention back to Virgil. “You don’t like it?”

“You look lovely, Eos. But how did you get here?”

His worry beat at her, so she told him of her possibility to save him.

“And here I am.” She twirled again in an attempt to distract him from his worries just a little. “However, I did not expect this.”

“What?”

“This cocoon you’ve hidden yourself in.” It really was quite something. “You’ve built yourself a fortress, Virgil.”

“I have?”

“I almost didn’t find you.” Should she tell him? There could be no lies here. “Everything is chaos beyond this bubble. You have pain, damage, anguish. But not here.” It was remarkable that the man had had the strength to defend himself from whatever had caused the mess outside. Her Uncle was strong. “I have never quite seen it from this perspective before.” And she hadn’t. Is this how they truly saw their surroundings? A flicker of pain. She frowned. This was not the time. “It is very distracting.” Focus. She took a step back, interfacing with the foreign circuitry, opening a node for transmission. “John?”

The sudden increase in fear and electrical activity shocked her, but not as much as her sudden denial of access. Virgil had cut her off. It definitely came from him. “You denied me connection.” A wave of desperate confusion. Did he understand? “You blocked my signal to your brothers. Why?”

He stumbled backwards and his fear washed over her in its own tsunami. What had frightened him so? “Virgil?”

And then she felt his building anger and for the first time felt her own fear.

There was a desperate menace about him. Like a cornered animal. “Who are you?”

“Yes, who are you?”

A new presence. A horrid, hate-filled presence. It tainted the air with its brutal power and the fear from Virgil multiplied by the thousands. She felt his defences arm fully, electricity biting the atmosphere, as he shoved her behind him.

And for the first time, she set eyes on their enemy.

It sliced through Virgil’s mind like a knife through raw meat, its blade sharp and uncaring what damage it did along the way. She could see the layers of malice behind it. And it was an it. This was no AI, nor human, but simply a transmission, intimately powerful but its core outside the network. A mere tool wielded by a megalomaniac.

It was killing Virgil.

And it looked just like John.

“It appears we have a little party crasher in our midst.”

The snarl on the simulacrum of her creator’s face offended her every circuit.

“Get out.” Virgil screamed defiance. She knew he had very little left, but he stood in front of her, his will to defend her to the last, shining like a sun. The walls of his fortress trembled as the muscles in his shoulders flexed.

“I don’t think so, Virgil. This is after all my playground now.”

She echoed Virgil’s snarl at the comment, her own defences coming online. She drew from her processors far beyond this protective hollow.

The thing laughed.

Eos stepped out and around her Uncle. It was her turn to protect. Her turn to stand up for her family. Her turn for vengeance. “How dare you!”

She ignored Virgil’s protest, stepping forward, advancing on his tormentor. Electricity surged in her processors, code forming attack lines. “How dare you wear my father’s image. How dare you hurt my family.” Her defences flexed with their potential. “No more.”

-o-o-o-

John watched his brother. Scott was pale, the lines on his face deep, the shadows under his eyes canyonic. He doubted the man had slept since he’d dragged his limp brother out of his ‘bird…this morning? Was it really only a matter of hours since this horror began? It seemed like weeks.

It looked like weeks on his brother’s face.

Of course, this was on top of the two incidents prior to the realisation of this one. John closed his eyes for a moment. He doubted he looked any better.

Virgil lay between them, as quiet and still as he had been since they had laid him there. His only movement was his eyes beneath his eyelids. They darted about blind to the world around them.

The EEG was now quiet, no longer receiving the reassuring status of his brother’s brain. It sat beside the bed, its array of sensors still arranged across Virgil’s skull.

There was the faint smell of burnt hair in the air.

John clutched his tablet in his hands. Eos’ status markers bounced across graphs. She was drawing more energy than usual, but not enough to be concerned. She had relayed her status several times via the tablet. Apparently, she had managed to speak to Virgil. That had lifted their hopes somewhat.

And then nothing.

He felt Scott’s eyes on him.

“Nothing yet.”

Those blue eyes simply flickered back to Virgil’s face and he said nothing.

John’s eyes tracked back to his tablet.

Just in time to see her power usage spike into the red.

And stay there.

“Something’s happening. She’s drawing more power.” He almost dropped the tablet when her voice erupted out of the speakers “How dare you!”

He opened a code window to check her process flow and discovered a series of programs marshalling, the machine code spinning past so fast he could barely make sense of it all. “She’s angry!” Scott stared at him in concern, his hand reaching for Virgil.

“How dare you wear my father’s image. How dare you hurt my family.” John’s heart froze. “No more.”

The lights in the room flickered.

-o-o-o-

Virgil staggered back as Eos burst into flame, her body igniting as she threw herself at John. His non-brother’s uniform caught fire and for a moment there was nothing but orange flame as the slim man staggered under her onslaught.

But then he appeared to regain his footing and Eos was thrown across the room. Her scream of defiance punctuated by her landing on the keys of the piano, its discordance painful to his ears. She didn’t hesitate, regaining her footing immediately and again targeting their intruder.

She collided with not-John again, her flame encircling him, swirling up into a vortex, capturing his enemy at its core.

But once again, not-John struck back, breaking through her fiery bonds and once again throwing her across the room. This time Virgil leapt up and caught her, his skin shrinking away from her heat. “Please, Eos, don’t do this.” His voice was raw.

Her eyes tore at him. “This ends. He can not have you. I will not let him.” She flung herself to her feet. This time, two tongues of flame extended from her hands like cats-o-nine tails, her fire licking at the air eagerly.

“Do you really think, you can have any effect on me?” John’s smirk was disdainful, despite his smoking hair.

“I really do.” She snapped a lick of flame through the air and brought it down to snare one of his arms. The other quickly followed, wrapping itself up and around his other arm. The fire crawled up his arms to his shoulders, curling around his neck. For a moment those horrible green eyes panicked and not-John struggled against her pull, the fire crawling into his hair.

But something changed and John’s expression with it. A smirk appeared and the glow in his eyes regained dominance. His bound arms dragged Eos towards him, flipping her around, a knife appearing in his hand and threatened her throat. “But you don’t.”

-o-o-o-

Eos was running out of distraction. Her code spun up through the transmission line, curling around the invasive program, cloaked in space static. She had to hurry and connect with its source before it discovered her presence on the line.

It was rather ingenious. It piggy backed the z-band network. Wherever the network existed, the transmission could follow and jump to the interface. Virgil was never far from the network, so he was always exposed. Once this was over she would need to write so much security she would be busy for weeks.

This could never happen again.

The line jumped from server to server and she followed, all the while distracting the program with her attack. She sensed Virgil’s horror in the background, his fortress shaking, the sky darkening.

Time was running out. Where the-

And she connected.

With another mind.

One not so kind, nor as broken as Virgil’s. And powerful. She didn’t hesitate. She flung up a shield, code flying out before her, corruption programs in hand.

But then it grabbed her.

-o-o-o-

The knife appeared in not-John’s hand and Virgil broke.

The darkened sky above him split in a thunderous roar, lightning tearing down and taking out the end of the balcony. Not-John and Eos stumbled, his not-brother letting out a yelp, as the decking beneath him disappeared.

Virgil moved, Jaws of Life appearing on his arms, and fuelled by anger and desperation, he leapt across the intervening space and grabbed John in one claw, wrestling Eos from him with the other. His laser cutter deployed, slicing the knife from the man’s hand.

Not-John yelled in surprise, green sparks flaring from where the ends of his fingers used to be.

A tongue of flame leapt out and snagged not-John around the throat and for a moment his form flickered.

Eos snarled from under Virgil’s arm. “Die, you bastard.”

-o-o-o-

She felt the flare of Virgil rising up to defend her. She felt his anger, his fear, his desperation, but most of all she felt his strength of defiance. The man was born to rescue, to sacrifice, and he was giving his last to save her.

The transmission froze and the mind behind it, with it.

And she took advantage.

There was circuitry and there was human. The human was strong, his code foreign and malevolent. But he was unused to attack, so she rode the circuitry, not dissimilar to that she had found in Virgil’s mind, and, reaching out, she sliced and diced.

This man had hurt so many, killed so many, endangered her family, invaded and so mortally injured her Uncle. He deserved only the mercy he gave others. Which was none.

The mind wavered and she stabbed it hard.

-o-o-o-

Virgil’s world trembled and he shook with it. Lightning cracked across the dark sky above and it began to rain.

Water ran into his eyes.

Not-John struggled in his grip and his grip was failing.

“Eos.”

Her flame burned despite the rain, the water hissing as it touched her. She had moved out beyond his embrace, her focus on their enemy, on those eyes that rightfully belonged to his brother, not this invader.

“Eos.”

Another tongue of flame leapt from her other hand and it too encircled not-John’s throat.

“Eos, I can’t-“ His footing slipped.

-o-o-o-

The foreign mind reeled under her attack and she took pleasure from it. She cut another connection and he shuddered. He would never harm anyone again.

She reached for another slice of code, but suddenly the mind she was attacking shuddered and sparked, its power cut, life support shutting down.

She stumbled. The man was dying.

The transmission cut off.

-o-o-o-

Virgil fell, his everything gone. The Jaws of Life vanished, along with his uniform. Torn red flannel and shredded jeans appeared in its place. The decking slapped wet beneath his cheek.

Not-John hung mid-air, fire burning his hair, Eos holding him aloft in flame, snarling at him.

Virgil reached out to her. “Eos-“

The invader suddenly screamed, his back arching and Eos gasped.  Her fire cut out.

Not-John vanished.

She spun towards Virgil, shock on her face. “Virg-“

And collapsed as if her strings had been cut.

-o-o-o-

End Part Five.

Part Six

[valjar]

Some thoughts about JASPER and Ignys Jasper  -Part 1- JASPER

So here I am, at 10 pm. I can´t sleep and as usual, Ignys Jasper and our big beefy warriorgem, JASPER fly through my head. Those who know me, will know that this is pretty normal, but enough rambling. 

When I first wrote about Ignys, it started out as a character study on Jasper. Yes, JASPER, the ultimate quartz. The first time I saw her was in chille tid. I saw that huge, buff as all goodness warrior gem, but in a really bad place. 

Not just generally, but especially for her. Her gem and energy type. As we can guess from Amethyst and Jasper respectively, Quartzes, especially those we met so far, are fire AND earth type gems (compared: Ruby as a fire type). Now we see this fiery earth gem in a place that is REALLY awful for her. You can probally guess it.

Exactly! It´s water. Lapis Lazuli´s type. Jasper is trapped there, in Malachite. Fighting, fighting, fighting, but also exhausted to the core, but unrelenting and I was dumbstruck. How chille tid was pulling that off. Showing that whole thing as both gems being in a stale mate that is depicted as vaguely resembling drowning. (Note: Gems are unbound. They have no dependance on any kind of breath in any way nor other organic needs, Still the situation looks like they feel like in a out.of.breath-stage-near-drowning-situation.) You see that especially in Jasper. Before she can do anything after popping to the “surface”, she is on all fours and pants heavily. It goes through the whole form and her “breath” sounds laboured, ragged and heavy. Same for Lapis, but not as bad. 

That Jasper still fought in this bad place dumbstrucked me and I went on a journey to find out more about this gem, that was like a diamond´s worth of willpower and resolve in the shape of a Quartz. I found the return and jailbreak and of course the Jasper fandom and the fandom as a grand total. 

I analyzed every episode with Jasper in it and watched the discussions and discourses around Jasper, Lapis and Malachite and I got inspired and in this fandom I found an amazing friend, who I rambled sometimes for hours about this with. We kept on watching the development of Jasper in both, fanon and canon. The first result from this was my first Jasper AU: “Dragon Gem - Rise of Orange Diamond”, the result of “What if Jasper became a Diamond and so she would become on the outside as her will is on the inside?” I found several “dragon” themes in Jasper, of which some got confirmed, like her unbreakable will and her stamina. We see her again in Malachite, in Superwatermelon Island. At that point, almost one year of being trapped in your counter.element later, both personalities, of Jasper and Lapis, were still there. That made me even more hyped, but then, after Malachite was unfused, Jasper just fell into the chasm. 

Several episodes later we see her again in Alone At Sea. Physically in perfect condition, but mentally heavily impaired and wounded from what looked unsettlingly like Stockhold Syndrome. She begs for Lapis to fuse with her again. Interesting here is the addiction like symptoms and the despair. Worlds away from the cool and level headed commander we saw in The Return and at the beginning of Jailbreak: Someone who looks down on those who are less in power than her. Only when Steven uses the shield, she recognizes him as a powerful opponent worthy of her attention. Same with Lapis. In Jailbreak AND The Return, Jasper grabs Lapis around and is like the asshole cop yanking around someone much “weaker”. That ends with Lapis revealing herself to Jasper as the Riptide Queen she really is, the gem who can steal THE ENTIRE OCEAN!! A gem with goddess level power. Malachite had them, too. So Jasper experienced them in and against herself, giving her a huge power high. That she wants back and is denied.

Later, in Gem Hunt, Jasper tries to assemble an army by collecting corrupted gems, she can assert power and dominance over. She walks off.

In Crack the Whip we see Jasper coming out of the ocean (remember: Her BAD place) on the back of a gem monster. She demolishes Amethyst, while flaunting her superior strength and fighting skills; poofing Amethyst in the process. It takes Stevonnie to defeat Jasper or at least drive her away. Jasper walks drama queen style into the ocean, declaring that Jasper always keep going until they get what they want. Stevonnie state, that Jasper lives in the ocean now. (Don´t get me started on that)

In Beta we get shown from all sides how powerful and “perfect” Jasper is: By Amethysts frustration and Peridots attempt to show Jasper´s flaws, but physically there are none. Even her exit hole is perfect and huge and is glass all the way through, due to frictional rockmelt, a sign of Jaspers raw power. We will get another hint on Jasper´s potential and strength in Back to the moon, where Eyeball Ruby states, how Jasper “took out 80 christal gems before sundown upon emerging”. My poor lesbian fandom heart was just “WHOOOAAAAAAHHHH!!!  KILLERQUEEEEEN!”. Then in earthlings we see Jasper for the last time in canon in an emotional showdown. Jasper fuses with the currupted gem for her power, but fails the test, power put her to. Due to her state of mind and the corrupted gems running off and her fusing with a corrupted gem, she finally corrupts, while namedropping Pink Diamond, her Diamond.

(How Jasper and Pink Diamond actually were together will be shown in canon and there are already amazing in-depth-videos by @sliceofotaku on Youtube, So I won´t go too deep into that now.)

200 years later after the events in the show, in my AU (canon divergence/sequel to the end of the series), Jasper posesses a court.like structure of gems, hybrids and humans, is uncorrupted and in her full glory. What happened? Well, that is for a different, future post, but sure is, that Jasper got into align with her power, even the power of her BAD place, the ocean, giving Jasper a special connection to its depths, which she passes on to her descendants. 

                                           (More to that in part 2)

[offbeatmusicuk]

Albums Of 2019

Here we go again. Another pretty strong year. Full disclosure I haven’t had as much time to listen to these albums this year as usual so my mind may be changed (possibly immediately) but here’s my list as it stands at the mo.

Before that though... an honourable mention of an album which I decided wasn’t eligible for the list because technically it’s a soundtrack album, even though it sounds like a new album from the band, and a strong addition to their discography....

Biffy Clyro  “Balance, Not Symmetry”

And now the bonus 30 albums that didn’t quite make the top 50 but couldn’t go unmentioned.

Lindsay Schoolcraft / Sigrid / Talla 2XLC / Ladytron / The Anix / While She Sleeps / Calva Louise / HANA / Ivy Crown / Lacuna Coil / Hante. / Puppy / Stanton Warriors / Moonlight Haze / Perfect Son

Idiot Pilot / Port Noir / Above & Beyond / Eat Your Heart Out / Potty Mouth / Lupa J / Papa Roach / Starkill / IAMWARFACE / The Anix / MC Lars & Mega Ran / Snow Ghosts / J Majik / Estiva / GIRLI

And now the big five-oh

50.

Dinosaur Pile-Up  “Celebrity Mansions”

Dinosaur Pile-Up have been gaining praise for their 4th album, and it’s not hard to see why. Spikey, catchy rock and punk, about touring the USA, some sounding like Foo Fighters’ heavier moments. Fun stuff.

49. Foals  “Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost Part 1″

The experimental indie band released 2 albums in 2019, both parts of the same project, and though Part 2 certainly has merit, and a few cracking tracks, Part 1 is the more consistent, full of varied and surprising music.

48. Forever Still  “Breathe In Colours”

The Danish hard rockers fronted by Maja Shining, deliver their 2nd album of aggressive, melodic rock and alternative metal.

https://foreverstill.bandcamp.com/album/breathe-in-colours

47. Cold Kingdom  “Into The Black Sky”

Debut album from the Minneapolis hard rockers, their first release with new singer Elissa Pearson.

https://coldkingdom.bandcamp.com/album/into-the-black-sky

46. Hatchie  “Keepsake”

Aussie Hatchie brings us her debut album of shoegaze-y, shimmery, dreamy, electronic indie-pop. One to float away with.

https://hatchie.bandcamp.com/album/keepsake

45. UNKLE  “The Road Part II / Lost Highway”

A serious case of double album syndrome with this one. Disc 1, aside from a weak cover of a terrible song as its last track, is absolutely amazing, and if it was released like that it would be top 10 for sure. But the whole thing has to be considered and disc 2, though far from bad, is just a bit dull, especially comparatively.

44. Doll Skin  “Love Is Dead And We Killed Her”

The ladies from Phoenix are back with their new album, once again a great collection of catchy, upbeat, alternative rock and punk. 

43.

Only Shadows  “Brothers”

Epic, catchy indie rock. They are very American sounding but they come from Nuneaton. Good stuff though.

42. Driftmoon  “Remember The Night”

Though it is a live recording of a DJ set, Driftmoon insists that this is his third artist album. Fair enough - it is all his music, though there are many collabs and his remix of John O’Callaghan & Audrey Gallagher’s classic “Big Sky”, but aside from an instrumental version of a track that featured on his last album “Invictus” it’s all previously unreleased. He wanted to switch it up and make the ‘live performance’ the first way these tracks were heard. And like many a DJ set, more often than an album, the biggest and best tracks are in the last third of the album, and there are some mammoth tunes here.

41.

The High Priest  “Dream American”

Formerly of excellent bands Diphonia, Global Police Force and Dark Science, The High Priest continues his solo journey with his new album. And it’s a good ‘un. His website describes it best - “Dark brooding sonic rock music and atmospheric soundscapes”. Class.

40. Feeder  “Tallulah”

Feeder’s tenth album continues their run of quality records. It’s no wild departure, but you’ll like it if you’re a fan. “Fear Of Flying” stands up against many of their classic tunes.

39. Furious Monkey House  “Love, Scum & Dust”

Spanish indie-rock young-uns Furious Monkey House release their 2nd album. And it’s an excellent collection of catchy upbeat tunes, mostly in English but with some native Spanish in there too. Great stuff.

38. Nemesea  “White Flag”

5th album from the Dutch band. They’ve moved through symphonic metal and gothic rock in their career, and this album includes a handful of the best songs they’ve ever done. 

https://nemesea.bandcamp.com/album/white-flag

37. Fever 333  “Strength In Numb333rs”

Agressive rap-metal, with massive riffs and huge melodic choruses. Touches of electronics and Trap are dotted throughout.  Sounds like the middle ground between Rage Against The Machine and early Linkin Park. 

36.

The Dark Element  “Songs The Night Sings”

Former Nightwish vocalist Anette Olzon and her Dark Element partner Jani Liimatainen deliver their second album, and it’s another quality, catchy collection of symphonic metal tunes.

35. New Years Day  “Unbreakable”

Huge, jittery riffage, paired with pop style songwriting and melodies, with powerful vocals. Reminiscent of “Blood” era In This Moment, but less sleazy.

34. Blood Red Shoes  “Get Tragic”

Blood Red Shoes bring a new sound with their 5th album. More electronic, almost synth-pop, but still with a rock band at the core. Some of their most original and catchy tunes yet are included here.

33. Maraton  “Meta”

The Bandcamp page describes this album perfectly - “MARATON pushes the boundaries between pop music and progressive rock, mixing machine like drums and roaring bass groundwork with shimmering guitars, ethereal keys and sacral vocal performance. The band has sought to create a style of music which combines the rhythmic heaviness from bands such as Mars Volta with the pop aesthetics of Muse.”  Check them out.

https://maratonofnorway.bandcamp.com/releases

32. Ankor  “White Dragon”

Accessible metal with a prog sensibility, the melodies are catchy, but musically it will keep you guessing throughout.

31.

Liquid  “Spacemonkey”

Old school hardcore rave stylings from scene legend Liquid on his 3rd artist album. A breakbeat bounty.

30. As December Falls  “As December Falls”

Straight to the point, catchy pop-punk from this Nottingham four-piece on their debut album. Fans of early Paramore, early Tonight Alive or We Are The In Crowd etc would do well to check this lot out.

29. Blink-182  “Nine”

2016′s “California”, the first album to feature Alkaline Trio’s Matt Skiba replacing original member Tom DeLonge, was a huge return to form for the band, and “Nine” continues the revitalised Blink with another massive collection of pop-punk tunes. They broaden their sound palette here too with sampled drum loops and heavier riffs in places.

28. Rebecca Lou  “Bleed”

There’s a shoegaze-esque vibe to the production on this collection of raw, catchy, rock ‘n’ roll tunes from Denmark, and it gives just the edge of uniqueness that makes this album special.

https://rebeccalou.bandcamp.com/album/bleed

27. Sleep Token  “Sundowning”

On paper Sleep Token, a mysterious, masked unit of unnamed musicians, who worship an ancient deity called “Sleep”, would make you think they made incredibly sinister black or doom metal. But that isn’t the case. There is a metal heaviness and some mountainous riffs, but only in parts - often kicking in as songs build to their climax. For the most part though they are bewitching soundscapes, often minimal, with huge melodic vocals, and electronic touches. Worship.

26. Within Temptation  “Resist”

Less orchestras, more electronic touches and more influence from other styles of modern music, but still unmistakably a Within Temptation album, “Resist” brings the band back from the brink after some serious writers’ block almost ended them. Bombastic and revitalised.

25. Solarstone  “...--”

The final part of Solarstone’s “One” album trilogy is once again an epic journey through his ‘pure trance’ sound.

24. We Are The Catalyst  “Ephemeral”

Third album from the alternative-metal Swedes, full of huge choruses. Fans of accessible metal with melodic female vocals should check this out.

https://watcofficial.bandcamp.com/album/ephemeral

23. Lamb  “The Secret Of Letting Go”

Five years on from their last, Lamb unleash their 7th album. Ethereal, magical, and special, as they do so well.

22. Polynation  “Igneous”

A cinematic, sweeping, atmospheric album, blending many facets of dance music, ambient, techno, IDM. A wordless, groove laden, goosebump inducing journey.

21. Grum  “Deep State”

Grum’s much delayed second album finally lands on Anjunabeats. It’s a kinetic mix of sounds incorporating trance, progressive and deep house elements, and creates some huge anthems. In particular the incredible “Stay”.

20. False Advertising  “Brainfreeze”

Mancunian grunge / noise-pop trio deliver a fizzing album of 90s influenced rock. Cracking, energetic tunes throughout.

https://falseadvertising.bandcamp.com/album/brainfreeze

19. Cold Blue  “Winter”

Slowly but surely building his status and honing his craft over the last decade or so, and in recent years gaining a reputation as one of the best producers in the trance scene, German Tobias Schuh finally unleashes his debut album. It is an epic, progressive journey through uplifting trance, slowly building and revealing its treasures, avoiding being too formulaic and predictable. One to get lost in.

18. R+  “The Last Summer”

Rollo returns, with a little help from his sister Dido, and long time production partner and Faithless teammate Sister Bliss, giving us a blissful, Balearic sounding album. The whole thing sounds like a love letter to Ibiza. Lovely. 

17. Pumarosa  “Devastation”

Pumarosa deliver their moody second album. A bit more electronic (with elements of trip-hop and drum & bass seeping in), a bit darker, still brilliantly adventurous. A very exciting band.

16. Luttrell  “Into Clouds”

I’ve been following Eric Luttrell’s superb, progressive blend of deep house and melodic techno for a couple of years, and now he unleashes his debut album. It doesn’t disappoint. Widescreen, beautiful, upbeat, catchy and excellently produced.

15. The Beautiful Monument  “I’m The Reaper”

The Aussie quartet deliver their second impressive long player. Huge riffs, huge drums, huge melodies, in their blend of post-hardcore, pop-punk and metal.

https://tbmofficial.bandcamp.com/album/im-the-reaper

14. The Thrillseekers present Hydra  “Altered State”

Despite releasing his first music in 1999, and releasing a steady stream of singles since, Steve Helstrip only delivered his debut album as The Thrillseekers in 2016. For this, his 2nd opus, he's decided to release under his Hydra alias. And what a beauty it is. Mostly instrumental, apart from a new reworking of The Thrillseekers classic "The Last Time" with vocals from Fisher, it is a masterclass in sublime, chilled, Balearic trance. Reminiscent of the first couple of Chicane albums, and makes you feel like you are blissed out on a beautiful, sunny beach.

https://thethrillseekers.bandcamp.com/album/altered-state

13. Jimmy Eat World  “Surviving”

"Surviving" is Jimmy Eat World's 10th album. There are little touches of an expansion to their sound, but if you are familiar with their brand of American rock, then you'll know pretty much what to expect. This is undoubtedly a Jimmy Eat World album. It is, however, a very, very good one. One of the strongest they've ever done in my opinion, probably only with "Bleed American" as any kind of competition.

12. Age Of Rampage  “Empire City”

Age Of Rampage deliver a plethora of breakbeat stompers on their debut album. Their love for acts like The Prodigy would be evident even without the first track sampling a Keith Flint interview, but the old school is delivered with relish here. If you love 90s breakbeat acts such as The Prodigy, The Chemical Brothers, The Crystal Method, Freestylers etc, this is a very worthy listen. Such a shame Russian breakbeat label Criminal Tribe don't do physical releases.

https://criminaltribeltd.bandcamp.com/album/age-of-rampage-empire-city-ctr035-18032019

11. Hands Off Gretel  “I Want The World”

Hands Off Gretel are an effervescent blend of punk and grunge, led by the fierce Lauren Tate. A love of 90s rock is evident. "I Want The World", their 2nd album, is packed full of killer tunes.

10. Dido  “Still On My Mind”

I’ve loved Dido’s voice since the early days of Faithless, so when she started releasing her own music I’ve always liked it to varying degrees (loved some of it, some of it a bit meh). This is her best album since “No Angel” in my opinion. It’s chilled, ethereal, and rather beautiful, and has been one of my most listened to albums in 2019. The title track is absolutely one of my favourite tracks of the year. I’m surprised it is top 10, but it had to be.

9. Wislov  “Madness From Paradise”

Kniteforce Records and their sister labels have been a driving force in the old-school hardcore (or ‘rave’ as many early 90s compilations would call it) revival. Most of their releases are new music, just done in the old style, with fresh touches. Wislov is one of, if not the, greatest talent in this scene, and after a bunch of EPs and a slew of great tunes, this debut album is unleashed. And it’s a cracker. If you love that old-school sound you will find much to love here.

8. HÆLOS  “Any Random Kindness”

Mesmerising, utterly beautiful, electronic tunes, with lush vocals. Picking up where their 2016 debut album “Full Circle” left off, but stepping up a notch. There is a heavy rave influence, but this is definitely made for the post-party, the comedown, the chill out time, the blissed out euphoria after the full on euphoria. Every time I hear this album I discover something new, and love it more. Wonderful.

7. Yonaka  “Don’t Wait ‘Til Tomorrow”

Yonaka may veer to the poppier end of alternative-rock, but they know how to write a hell of a tune. Many of them in fact. 11 feature here on their debut album, released after a string of quality EPs and singles got them some exposure over the last couple of years. Hooks aplenty, huge choruses, riffs and electronics.

6. Anavae  “45″

Fans of Anavae have been waiting a long time for this. The debut album many thought may never come. 8 years on from their debut single and 7 years after their debut EP “Into The Aether”, and following a bunch of EPs and singles in the interim, it is finally here. And I’m sure very few will be left disappointed. Rebecca Need-Menear and Jamie Finch deliver a typically varied alternative-rock album, veering at times into poppier territory, and others into moody trip-hop-esque tracks. Other times they stick to simple, yet epic, rock tunes like on the massive “High”. If you don’t know this band, check them out.

5. Dream State  “Primrose Path”

Dream State progress in sound and technical ability with each release. From 2015′s debut EP “Consequences”, through last year’s excellent “Recovery” EP to this, their debut album. And it’s a pretty epic affair. Chunky riffs, pounding drumming, powerful vocals (both in aggressive and melodic turns from CJ Gilpin) with a massive, widescreen feel to the production. The Welsh 4-piece are often classed as post-hardcore, but that is far too limiting a description for a band with such obvious ambition. Class.

4. Machineheart  “People Change”

Lush, shimmery, ethereal alt pop from this L.A. quartet fronted by the fabulous vocals of Stevie Scott. A cracking album from start to finish but a particular mention goes to upbeat (almost breakbeat styled) track "Overgrown" which is one of the best tracks I've heard all year. If you like bands like London Grammar or HÆLOS, give this album a spin.

3. Black Futures  “Never Not Nothing”

Black Futures are a genre meshing riot. They've been called "Anarchic Electro Psych Punk Noise", "industrial noise-punk" and label themselves as "Future Punk". They have the sensibilities of a punk band and a dance band simultaneously. There's Bobby Gillespie from Primal Scream guesting, as is rapper P.O.S. More than once have they been described as a mix of Death From Above 1979 & The Chemical Brothers. It's a future party, a post-apocalyptic riot. Give it a listen.

2. Dallas Kalevala  “Dallas Kalevala”

Dallas Kalevala hail from Finland and have been called fierce subarctic pop music. Whether they called themselves this I'm not sure. What it sounds like to me is a brilliant, varied pop album, slightly camp, with fantastic electronic production and some full on pounding dance beats. 9 brilliantly written tracks, that all sound different, but somehow sound like they come from the same band and belong together. There is a feeling Dallas Kalevala would be somewhat polarising.  There's no way they'll be everyone's cup of tea (which suggests they are doing something right), but those that get them will love them a whole lot.

1. The Chemical Brothers  “No Geography”

To make their 9th album The Chemical Brothers returned to the equipment they used to make their first two albums. And though "No Geography" doesn't sound like "Exit Planet Dust" or "Dig Your Own Hole", it feels like them. Consequently it is arguably their best album since them, but it is definitely their best since 2002's "Come With Us". It feels a bit old school, but also fresh and new. Tracks flow into each other seamlessly making the album feel like a complete body of work rather than a collection of tracks, and it is utterly brilliant throughout. Joyous.

Well there you go. I’ll leave you with the following, for your listening pleasure:

Spotify playlist - a countdown of the top 50 (50-1), minus a couple of things that aren’t on Spotify.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/05F3PPwKO7NkwpD4eTJBiP?si=O8bO2JYDSqa3Kz-SzQ8D4Q

And a YouTube playlist counting down 50-1, but a completely different tracklist to the Spotify playlist (and different vids for the top 5 than are embedded here).

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSWMYBJKcPo0tJGbPDFw8QAdZlb1BWj3H

[tinymixtapes]

Column: Favorite Rap Mixtapes of October 2018

With a cascade of releases spewing from the likes of DatPiff, LiveMixtapes, Bandcamp, and SoundCloud, it can be difficult to keep up with the overbearing yet increasingly vital mixtape game. In this column, we aim to immerse ourselves in this hyper-prolific world and share our favorite releases each month. The focus will primarily be on rap mixtapes — loosely defined here as free (or sometimes free-to-stream) digital releases — but we’ll keep things loose enough to branch out if/when we feel it necessary. (Check out last month’s installment here.) Here at Tiny Mix Tapes, mixtapes are like Halloween handouts, which is to say we recommend continual and regular consumption of sweets, sours, and suckers balanced by physical activities including but not limited to picking and carving, taking long walks, and watching so many scary movies it becomes physically tasking. To wit, my list for the month so far includes: The Omen (1976), Damien: Omen II (1978), Omen III: The Final Conflict (1981), Season of the Witch (1972), The Man in the Orange Jacket (2014), Daughter of Horror (1955), Daybreakers (2009), Nightmare City (1980), Fear X (2003), The Town that Dreaded Sundown (1976), Shock (1946), Shock (1977), The Stuff (1985), Santa Sangre (1989), Neon Demon (2016), The Lost Boys (1987), and The Skeleton Key (2005). Therein, as below, audiences can discover numerous tricks and treats. It is, of course, our privilege to help pass along both as they’re equally essential, like ODB would say, “for the children.” And speaking of the little ones, let us not gloss over this month without acknowledging that it somehow brought out releases by no less than seven (!) established “Lil” rappers: B, Baby, Gnar, Jay So Icy, Mosey, Tracy and Xelly. “The horror!” –Samuel Diamond --- Illingsworth - You’re No Fun [DOWNLOAD/STREAM] Swerve past the skeptics and you’ll find that there still are scythe-tongued rappers and producers beholden to the unseen funk. Although rapper-producers are not rare, there are few today who manage such a fluid blend of sway and spitfire as my latest chiropractor, the Detroit-bred Illingsworth. While known mostly for his beats, the plunderer can kick some nerdy flex raps too; he was nonchalantly sipping on lemonade in a pirate’s fit, while you were busy teething on cockroaches. On his latest opal with Mello Music Group, You’re No Fun, Illingsworth’s pearly bounce is as live as ever. The lasting sapphire in the mix might just be “Wind (No Clues),” a “Love’s Gonna Get’cha”-esque ode to a young have-not, searching for a path where shards of systemic violence won’t sink into the soles. In the grubby fists of a lesser MC, the concept might ring out as corny. But in the studious grasp of Illingsworth, it feels as if the ghosts of SV sprinkled steez over construction gravel to help the whole damn thing glisten. –Cirrus Slump --- Kodie Shane - Stay Tuned … [STREAM] Some two years after stealing the show on the Sailing Team’s “All In,” Kodie Shane’s just about ready for her close-up. Young Heartthrob, her full-length debut, drops early November, meaning that Stay Tuned … is the last in a long line of EPs by which she has built a fanbase and a reputation, (mostly) escaping Lil Yachty’s shadow and establishing herself as an artist who deserves a spotlight of her own. Packed front-to-back with brand-name features, Stay Tuned … scans as a set of songs too pedestrian for the album but too expensive to discard entirely, less interesting for Rich the Kid’s continued interrogation of the phrase “dat way!” than for the promising glimpse it provides into Shane’s musical development since last year’s Back From the Future. I can’t imagine listening to this once Young Heartthrob is out, but I won’t be listening to anything else until then. –Corrigan B. --- MihTy - MihTy [STREAM] Here you have it folks: the long-rumored, widely-anticipated eponymous collab between the foremost crooners in hip-hop. That’s right — Jeremih and Ty Dolla $ign have teamed up in true Rhythm-and-Blues Brothers fashion to give us MihTy, which apparently might have been completed as far back as 2017?? The original release was supposed to come August 2018, but, as happens so often these days, the drop date was pushed back to October. So, here we are! Dolla and ‘Mih apparently churned out some 60 songs in the studio, then picked out these 11 from said batch, which explains why this project doesn’t hit me as incredibly cohesive or focused on a particular idea, aside from, of course, romance, sex, and various forms of decadence. But if you know these two at all, that shouldn’t surprise you, and perhaps all that intimacy is exactly why you (and I) listen. It’s a solid and varied tape, with a good list of producers (exec. produced by Hitmaka, with appearances by Go Grizzly, Keyz, et al.) and suave harmonies. In a most satisfying way, it’s the tape I’d expect from the two — a wonderfully romantic, melodic, and smooth-hip-hop-R&B ditty to cuddle up with as the weather gets colder. –Alex Brown --- Bambu - Exrcising A Demon | Article 1 | A Few Left [DOWNLOAD/STREAM] Filipino-American California MC Bambu has been kicking bloody street soliloquies as far back as the early 2000s and even released a critically acclaimed full-length collaboration with L.A. rap royalty’s DJ Muggs in 2010. However, if there’s ever been a moment better suited for this particular audio document, it must have occurred in some alternate timeline, because Exrcising A Demon | Article 1 | A Few Left arrives at a juncture that demands more than ever for stories of American immigrants and their children and the struggles they share to be told plainly, without glorification, political comment, or other modes of curated re-contextualization. The truth, like humanity, is brutal, war-torn even, but above all else, necessary. And if this release is truly the first in a five-part series, as the Bandcamp page describes, then Bambu and OJ The Producer have set the bar incredibly high for themselves out the gate. Clearly, though, this is a matter of both exercising and exorcising, show-and-prove a given. –Samuel Diamond --- Shy Glizzy - Fully Loaded [STREAM] For a couple years now, the Washington Wizards have stood pat in free agency, keeping their roster’s core intact in order to develop their existing players rather than compromising their identity in pursuit of new ones. Their horrific start to the current season aside, it’s worked pretty well; the John Wall era has been one of consistent success, salad days not only for Wall, but also for a host of young stars under his tutelage: Bradley Beal, Otto Porter, and most recently Kelly Oubre. Yet in their consistency, the Wizards have raised questions about untapped potential, about complacency in the face of the consistently “pretty good,” and about who is really to blame for a series of failed attempts to integrate new play styles and personalities. Luckily, rap isn’t basketball. Probably. –Corrigan B. --- Lil B - Options [STREAM] –Lovebug --- Gangsta Boo & BeatKing - Underground Cassette Tape Music Vol. 2 [STREAM] Being a consumer of contemporary “rap” music in 2018 without recognizing Gangsta Boo is a privilege. As a member of Three 6 Mafia, she helped collapse geographical and aesthetic distinctions between Southern rap, experimental horrorcore, and radio music without burying Memphis signifiers in common ground. Her new mixtape with Houston-hailing BeatKing is a conservation of both artists’ distinct regional styles, revealing by way of phonogeographical survey just how deep trap’s roots go. Fortunately, Underground Cassette Tape Music Vol. 2 is also a banger in its own right, reminding Migos fans why this historical primrose path was worth nourishing and following. Plus, remember Paul Wall, Danny Brown, and RiFF RAFF? They’re all on this, too. It’s a scary good time, so fly that you won’t even remember they’ve been doing this since before I could talk. If there ever were a laurel-draped whip, this whole crew has scrapped it for a brand new ride. And it bumps as hard as everything before it. –Jazz Scott --- D Savage - D Phoenix [STREAM] I’m not entirely sure where D Savage came from, but “a neural network trained on 10,000 Soundcloud rappers” isn’t out of the question. Yet amidst opaque mythology — “3900,” “2700,” and a dozen variations of “Phoenix” reappear endlessly across songs and IG captions — and thoroughly ambiguous authorship, there’s an undeniable grasp of melody that refuses to be ignored. As often as not, it’s a mere moment; “What You Want” justifies its existence on the strength of half a hook alone. And that’s more than enough: with tracks rarely exceeding two minutes, D Savage’s best work is so immediate that it can’t even begin to wear out its welcome before its time to rewind. There’s little here that warrants repeated listens, but what sticks will be looping in my mind for months on end. –Corrigan B. http://j.mp/2RmZRpo

[bondedbrotherhood-blog]

Trainwreck - Part 4

written by @AmauroticKing and @TenaciousDoctor  Jane:  *To say V was annoyed was the understatement of the century, and I knew better than to argue when he was this pissed off.  Instead I bit my tongue and waited until he was out of the room and well on his way to wherever he was going to let off steam.

I wasn’t about to leave Manny alone in the medical recovery room, but Ehlena wasn’t here, and… Qhuinn walked past and without a second’s hesitation I grabbed his arm and yanked him into the room, explaining that Manny needed 24 hour supervision and giving him only enough information to have him agree to watch Manny.  I didn’t go into detail about how this happened.  I wasn’t ready for more people judging me right now.  With a quick check of Manny’s vitals, I turned and thanked Qhuinn before heading out into the tunnel and up to the main house.  

Once I reached Wrath’s study, I swallowed hard and knocked on the door.  Wrath and I had a good understanding.  He wasn’t my king, but I respected him.  But even though we had a good relationship, I knew this was gonna be a difficult conversation.

Wrath: [Stroking George's ears had an incredible effect. On both of us. It didn't, however, dismiss or dampen the fact that Murhder had nearly killed Manny and Jane in a fit of uncontrolled bonded-male rage. /That/ I would not let go.

Not long after V left, I caught the scent of pain accompanied by a knock. Ruffling George's ears once more and taking a deep breath, because this was going to take every ounce of strength I had to not demat to the tunnels and knock Murhder’s teeth into the next six centuries without killing him.

George's soft whine sounded at my knee, as if he too could smell doc Jane's physical pain.]

Get in here, doc.

Jane:  *taking a deep breath, I wrapped my hand around the door handle and opened it.  The large room always seemed smaller cause of Wrath’s size.  His presence was large and his mood was dark.  I closed the door behind me and walked forward in silence, only speaking once I reached the large desk.

George’s face looked alarmed.  Maybe he sensed something wasn’t right.  Wrath looked… downright pissed*

Wrath, I take full responsibility for what happened.

Wrath:  [George's leaning into my leg pulled back my instinct to blow up at the doc and go nuclear. It also gave me another sec to assess Jane's version of what happened. She was taking the fall for Murhder’s actions. Admirable. Wrongly placed, since /both/ were responsible, but admirable.

Yeah, no. Not happening. The scent of Jane's physical pain was irrefutable regardless of who was at fault. And that was a thorn I wanted to rip out by the whole bush and burn the roots, clear down to the atom. Males did NOT beat on females they were bonded to. Not in MY fucking house.

Right, check out this answer.]

No. You fucking won't.  

See, there's this little thing called a male nearly fucking killed my staff. MY FUCKING STAFF! [Words growled out louder than I'd intended as my fist curled tight, the urge to dismember Murhder piece by piece growing again in spite of George's presence. Pens and pencils jumped in the cup holder in reaction to my fist hitting the top of my father's antique desk. The blonde at my knee whined and scooter closer.]

What in the /fuck/ possessed you to get involved with Murh.

[It had been one thing for V and Jane to share what they had, but this.. /thing/ with Murhder was going to end badly for everyone involved if I didn't stop it. Grinding my molars, I forced a breath in and held my hand up.]

No. You know what. Never mind, I don't need to fucking know. A bonded male is as dangerous as a pissed off viper and twice as charming. /That/ I'm quite sure you are well aware of.

You are god damn lucky Rhage and V showed up when they did and stopped Murhder from killing you or Manny.

Jane:   *Wraths’ voice boomed and vibrated through the room, leaving behind a cold chill in the air.  He was pissed and he had every reason to be.  I was smarter than this… more responsible, or at least I used to be.  Rational thinking went out the door whenever Murh’s hands were on my body.

Shaking my head in an attempt to clear the steamy visions from my mind, I cleared my throat and stood still for a short while.  Thinking… and more thinking… I had no answer for Wrath.  He was right.  I should’ve known better.  I did know better, but I chose to ignore the warning signs.  This was my fault.  Even if Wrath didn’t want to admit it*

You’re right about everything, except the blame part.  I am to blame for this.  I knew I was playing a dangerous game and I didn’t stop it *I didn’t want to stop it, was the truth, but I didn’t need to elaborate*.  This is on me.  Not on Murh.  And I know what this looks like, but I’m not making excuses for him.  

As for the bonded male part of all this… I have no idea what to do about that.  Manny and I have something… ermm… more like we are trying… *shit, why was this so difficult to talk about?  I’ve never had a problem telling Wrath what was what.  Maybe that’s because I’ve never had to talk about my romantic relationships with him before.  I didn't want to have this conversation anymore than he did*

I can’t tell you want to do with the brotherhood, but I can put in a recommendation.  Murh needs to let off steam, and he needs to do it by fighting lessers.  He hasn’t been out fighting since he got here months ago.  Do you remember how you felt when you couldn’t fight?  Put him on serious watch and probation for as long as you deem necessary, but give him a chance to prove himself worthy.

I give you my word that I will stay away from him.  He can see Havers with check ups, and I will only intervene in an emergency.  

*I knew I sounded half insane, but the brotherhood needed good fighters.  Murh was a member of the brotherhood.  A Brother, a warrior, and all he wanted to do was serve the king by fighting for his race, and I benched him.  I did this to him.  If I removed myself from his life, he would gain traction and focus again*

Wrath:  JesusHfuckingChrist, are you fucking kidding. [For all that our resident ghost doc was used as a punching bag and shotput, she /still/ felt the need to defend Murhder.

But something Jane said did start to resonate through all the bullshit bleeding heart crap. Murhder was a warrior. He'd been bred as such, as had I and all of the Brotherhood core had been. Bred to defend our race against the Omega and his Lessers.

Fuck. Dropping back in my chair, my hand fell back to stroking George's ears while I went over the doc's last few words. I was no more immune to the pull to go out and kill Lessers than any single one of my brothers. While my own absence from the field was by choice (not really, thank you SV), being kept away by any other means was as close to going batshit crazy as anyone wanted to be. Sure, a male could train from sundown to sunup, daily for weeks on end. But if he didn't get OUT and beat the rooftops on a regular basis.. it drove a male insane. And by means of coping, he ends up down the same path as the one Murhder was treading… a similar path I have to veer from with using sparring seshs with Payne when the need to get out and kill someone jerks me too strongly.

Humans, ghosts and vampires. Talk about a clusterfuck.]

Fine.

Murh goes back in the field. With a minimum of two Brothers at ALL times. No exceptions.

[Placing too many restrictions at one time on the male would not only be a pansy move, it would also make things worse for Jane and Manny.]

I'll have Cop and Tohr take Murh to Havers’ clinic when needed. For now.. [My unseeing eyes focused on Jane's presence.] .. you and Manny will take a break from treating any of the Brothers until you're both fully healed. [Holding up a hand to stop Jane's immediate objections, I shook my head only once.] Most of the males are bonded and seeing you, specifically like this, will set one or more off on a mission to make Murh regret his choice of punching bags and give me another round of headache meetings with the Scribe as to /why/ I thought it would be a good idea to allow humans among us.

Until then, V will do the stitchin’ and operating. [Not to mention it would give both Manny and Jane time to figure shit out between them as well. It might only be a couple days, but hey, smaller miracles have happened in less time.]

And when you think you're ready, go see V for an all clear. I'll be having him keep me updated on everything.  

[esthermeronobaro]

Rebel Grrrls: Ovarian Psycos

Beautiful Godzilla is a column about my feminist bicycle adventures for SLUG Magazine. Published monthly in print from 2011-2014. Read the original online and in print on page 24.

Ovarian Psycos’ Maryann Aguirre, aka La Fingers, answers a phone somewhere in East LA with unrestrained enthusiasm as I state my name on the other end at the SLUG Headquarters in Salt Lake. 

My own excitement is muted by slight intimidation and the natural awkwardness that accompanies my introduction to any stranger, but something about her voice is familiar, and it greases the stiffness I’m feeling. She’s just arrived at her home after biking from work in the heat, and, having ridden to the office during pit-staining temperatures earlier that day myself, it’s easy to lament her discomfort. As we discuss her bicycle, a Raleigh hybrid she’s pretty fond of, Aguirre speaks rapidly in Spanish-speckled English, her pitch inflecting upwards at the end of each sentence, giving my inquiries a boomerang effect. 

As she explains her nickname, La Fingers, a result of being caught wagging her middle-finger on more than one occasion, I know I’m talking to the right person.

Bikini Kill’s “Rebel Girl” lyrics pop into my head as I listen––”That girl thinks she’s the queen of the neighborhood. She’s got the hottest trike in town. That girl holds her up so high. I think I wanna be her best friend, yeah!”––and I quietly make the (creepy) decision to friend request her later. Feeling conversational, I stray from the long list of chronological questions I’ve typed up, but Aguirre wants to stick to the plan––she’s been chosen to represent the Ovas in this particular interview, and she’s gonna do it right.

Though Aguirre tells me she has only been a part of the “womyn and womyn identified” Los Angeles bike crew for about a year, the Ovarian Psycos celebrated two years of female-empowered radicalness over the summer. The group was founded by Xela de la X, aka Cihuatl Ce, for similar reasons as many other female organizers, including myself: to provide a safe space for women (particularly women of color) within a very male-dominated community. Of course, their mission statement, goals and organization are much more ambitious and resourceful than my attempts have ever been, but I’ll get to the deep stuff in a moment. What initially attracted me to the Ovas, after the lovely Elizabeth Lopez Medina linked me to their merch page, was their deliciously deviant slogan: 

“Ovaries so big, we don’t need no fucking balls.”

Yeah, yeah, feminism is about equality, yadda yadda––but the Ovarian Psycos are far from being the he-man haterz hypocritically correct ding-dongs are gonna make them out to be. Aguirre tells me the slogan came about organically and conscientiously, and was met with mostly positive feedback. “We’re not gonna have a fuckin’ ‘ride my bike and I feel so free!’ kind of slogan,” she says. “No––ovaries so big, we don’t need no fuckin’ balls!” Aguirre’s voice gets louder and she loses the questioning inflection as she explains the group’s target demographic.

“We try to be particular with the words that we choose to use because we’re trying to hit certain kinds of women,” she says. “Not just women who are just like ‘oh yeah, cool, I like to ride my bike,’ [but] women who need the sisterhood and the bonding … ‘at-risk’ society.” 

Aguirre drops down an octave as she opens up about her own background, laying it out for me in a matter-of-fact kind of list. She’s 22-years-old, Chicana, and a mother of a 4-and-a-half-year-old, working full time. She’s had a rough life, growing up in the hood with an abusive parent, pregnant at 16. “It’s not just to go and ride our bikes,” she continues. “It’s much deeper than that. We��re trying to outreach to women [whom] society has decided are not the fucking top girl––they’re the fuck-ups.”

Ovarian Psycos’ mission statement shakes any doubts that this group of ladies doesn’t mean business. They claim to organize and cycle “for the purpose of healing our communities physically, emotionally and spiritually, by addressing pertinent issues through cycling,” and they have every aspect of this statement covered in just one of their many events––the Luna Ride. Surprisingly their only monthly “womyn and womyn-identified only” ride, the Luna Ride happens every full moon at sundown and promotes what Aguirre calls “wrap-around therapy.” “We bring in the physical, which is writing down miles and bike-riding and stuff, but at the end, we bring in a different level, which is why we’re different from other groups,” she says. This includes anything from talks on domestic violence and breast cancer, to special, indigenous ceremonies celebrating the Mayan Moon Goddess, Ix Chel. Aguirre senses my surprise and hesitation at her admittance to worshipping anything other than the two-wheeled whip between her legs, and explains that the ceremony is completely secular and rooted in culture, not theology. 

“We have our ancestral background, so we feel the need to bring in these ceremonies because this is something that some of us have recently found,” she says. “For myself, I recently started being a little more spiritual.” 

My reflex to recoil at the mention of spirituality is a personal flaw stemming from experiences inside the polarizing atmosphere created by Utah’s dominant religion, but Aguirre’s somewhat vague descriptions of the ceremony sound inviting. She’s hesitant to give me details, as it seems to be a personal and sacred experience, but explains it as a talking circle of introspection and celebration of the feminine––emotional and beautiful.

In addition to the Luna Rides, the Ovas also organize a variety of fun, sometimes-themed, co-ed rides, coordinate ladies and trans shop nights similar to Salt Lake’s own ladies nights at the Bicycle Collective, and table at a variety of community events. The Ovas are also currently seeking out their own space, a “bicycle womb” of sorts, Aguirre says, collaborating with the Boyle Heights Collaborative, funded through the California Endowment. All of this requires a lot of structure and organizing, and as Aguirre explains their leadership hierarchy, I can’t believe these women aren’t running the country yet––seriously, if this nation has any hope of surviving the next 50 years, it’s in the Ovarian Psycos. 

The Ovas operate successfully as a decentralized form of government that changes seasonally. 

The group as a whole is called the Ovarian Psycos Cycle Brigade, and it includes every man and woman who shows up to the rides and events. Group decisions are monitored by a Core Collective, made up of seven central figures and six SLITS (Sister Leaders In Training), who attend meetings every other week. The leadership heads, dubbed the Left and Right Ovaries (LRO), serve as co-chairs for the group and change with the seasons. One is a self-appointed volunteer, the other is chosen randomly from a hat, and their main purpose is to host the bi-weekly meetings. At these meetings, the Ovas discuss events, create agendas, decide how they want to be portrayed (pick someone to respond to that annoying Utah girl who keeps hassling them about an interview), and do “clit checks”––making sure everyone’s doing their fair share and getting shit done. The Ovas also have committees responsible for different aspects of the group, and Aguirre is currently part of the Outreach Committee as well as the Core Collective, handling much of the tabling, social media and, thankfully, interviews. What truly brings success to the group is their dedication to a worthwhile cause. “I don’t get paid for this, this is from the heart. As much stress as it might be, at the end of the day, none of us would be doing this if we weren’t getting our energy and our strength through our hearts and what we believe in,” says Aguirre. “It’s much deeper than how many likes we can get on Facebook.”

Aguirre shows more and more enthusiasm as we talk about events, and when I finally bring up Clitoral Mass, she nearly reaches through the phone and excitedly shakes my shoulders, telling me how amazing the event’s gonna be. Though Clitoral Mass, the female empowered version of Critical Mass, is a long-established, international event, (at the time of this interview) the Ovarian Psycos are organizing LA’s first-ever to coincide with the blue moon on August 31. “We just thought it was perfect!” says Aguirre, as the blue moon only happens every two to three years, and is surrounded by much of the folklore the Ovas subscribe to. I nearly fall off my chair when she gives me the date, as it happens alongside a previously planned trip to LA. Aguirre immediately exclaims that I HAVE to come, and asks if I need somewhere to stay, or if I’ll need a bike, explaining that they’ve set up a registry on their website for those coming into town for the big event. By the time this issue hits stands, I’ll have been a part of LA’s first Clitoral Mass, riding alongside a group of women who share my love of cycling and sisterhood.

I’ve been on the phone with Aguirre for over an hour as the interview begins to wrap up, and she feels like an old friend. I’m completely charmed by her attitude and sincerity: 

“I just gotta go where I gotta go, and I gotta do what I gotta do, and no man’s gonna fuckin’ stop me,” she says at one point in our discussion, completely sealing the deal on that friend request, which I now get to make in person. 

I ask her one last, heavy hitting question: “What does it mean to be an Ovarian Psyco?” Aguirre goes quiet for a moment. “Being an Ovarian Psyco is not necessary just for women, anyone can be an Ova,” she begins slowly. “Someone who’s proud of themselves and proud of who they are. Being an Ovarian Psyco doesn’t mean that you ride a bike or that you’re a mad cyclist, that you can write down miles. Being an Ovarian Psyco is more of a state of mind—it’s an identity. It’s the way I identify myself, just like I choose to identify myself as a Chicana. It’s not hating men, it’s being proud of who you are, taking charge of yourself, your body, your surroundings and loving your community and giving back.”

At the end, as I describe my own bicycle group, Salty Spokes, and complain to Aguirre how difficult and frustrating it is to organize events sometimes, she gives me exactly what I need to hear. “One person didn’t make Ovarian Psycos what it is. It took time and it took the heart of different women to start structuring it to what you see and what we do.”

Bikini Kill said it best: 

“That girl thinks she’s the queen of the neighborhood. I got news for you––she is!”

Check out the online gallery for some photos of Clitoral Mass, and find the Ovarian Psycos on the web at ovarianpsycos.com.