#that chat was probably a barren wasteland

[riverashes]

Imagine going on Twitch dot com and thinking "ah I'm just in the mood to chill" and going to the Just Chatting tab, only to see John performing necromantic bullshit in the number one spot.

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

a new kind of warmth

Grian lept off of Monopoly Mountain, unsure what or where his next life would be, but knowing he couldn't stay here any longer. Not when the sand was red with blood. He ended up somewhere in the artic.

Part of the @extremetimedchallengeexchange which I had so much fun with!

Words: 1703

AO3 here

Grian is cold.

He hasn’t been cold in weeks. He’s used to the heat of the sun, the burn of the sand, the sweat dripping from his brows and the constant red tint to his skin. 

Now he’s cold. Now there’s a bone deep chill. Now he’s freezing and his muscles are stiff and sore from it. There’s wind ruffling his feathers and the sharp pain of ice against his cheek. He flexes his hand and grimaces as his fingers dig into snow, the burn familiar and yet so very different from sand. 

He lifts his head, attempting to open his eyes and meeting only the blinding reflection of snow for miles. He shut them again as he forced himself to his knees, shaking the frost from his wings. 

This must be death then. Some purgatory– or Hell. He’d think Hell would be the fire and brimstone, but that would have been too familiar. A wasteland of snow and ice and constant wind felt like Hell enough, would be a fitting punishment for the life he had lived. 

When he finally opened his eyes again, blinked away the brightness and let himself focus, he became a little less sure it was Hell. Not definite, but the landscape was less barren than at first glance. Most of it was ice– but behind him, when he finally stood to properly look around, was a spruce forest. Through the trees, if he squinted, he could see the warm light of torches and lamps. 

He started walking. 

Soon a cabin appeared in his view, with a large fenced yard that had wolves galloping about, foxes nicking the wolves’ toys out from under them, horses watching it all from a small stable, a big slumbering polar bear sitting at the steps of the door, and over a dozen crows sitting on the roof of the cabin. It was surrounded by a mountain range and he could just barely spot another home a couple meters away built into the stone. 

If this was life after death (and what else could be when his very last action was falling from the top of Monopoly Mountain, too grief stricken to open his wings with the blood staining his hands), then perhaps this was the home of Death itself– or an angel or a demon or someone that could explain to him what afterlife he had wound up in. At the very least it would be warmer than out here (if this afterlife was even a little kind and had insulated walls).

He stumbled past into the yard, closing the gate behind him. He flinched when the first wolf came galloping up, but it merely licked at his frozen fingers. A few of the wolves barked and howled and then several crows joined in with squawks and calls of their own, probably alerting whatever being inside the home that he was out here. The polar bear poked his head up, blinking sleepily at him. He had a golden name tag hanging from his neck and he didn’t move from his nap spot as Grian approached. 

There was movement in the window and then the door swung open– “What the fuck has gotten you so riled, chat?” The man standing at the door looked… surprisingly normal. For just a moment Grian thought he was a human, his blonde hair was pulled back by his hat and he was wearing dark green and black robes. The wings, he didn't see until they shifted and spread slightly behind him, big black things that stole all the light and almost looked like voids in space. He didn't have any other feathers on his face, or clawed hands, or taloned feet– Not like Grian. 

He was an Angel then, like Skizz was, or something like it. Skizz's wings were white; the inky black of this stranger was much more intimidating. Was this like– his Guardian Angel? He didn't think his Guardian Angel would have a potty mouth. Also he was a terrible guardian given the whole– everything he just went through. 

“Oh, hello there!” He called from the steps, waving at Grian, “Wasn’t expecting visitors. Would have cleaned up for you.” 

Grian numbly waved back, stopping in the middle of the yard as he watched the Angel come down the steps, easily sidestepping the polar bear and effortlessly ignoring the dogs that followed in his heels. A few crows swooped on him and he laughed and shouted at them. 

“Hiya, mate. You doing alright there?” He asked, stopping just sort of grabbing Grian's arm. His hand was outstretched as he looked Grian up and down, “I don't think we’ve met before. I haven't seen you around the server pretty sure. I’m Philza.” 

“Grian,” he replied, staring at Philza’s wings– one of them was messed up, the skin and tissue had so much scarring that feathers, his flight feathers, no longer grew. It was something a respawn or a few potions should have fixed, not something you let heal on its own. “Are you, like, my Guardian Angel?”

Philza laughed, “The fuck? No, mate, I’m not anyone's Guardian Angel. Especially not yours. I’ve never seen you in my life.”

“That's good, cause my Guardian Angel must suck at their job,” Grian grumbled. 

“I feel that, bud,” Philza agreed readily, stepping to the side, “Want to come inside, where it’s warm?” 

“Yes, please,” he whined, taking the biggest steps he could manage with his numb legs towards the house. 

Philza was quick to show him around. The place was small and quaint, even smaller than their sandcastle. It was crowded with sentimental items and cozy furniture. Grian was quick to sink into a plush chair and bundle his wings around himself. Philza bustled about, making tea and talking about his housemate, Techno, who was out at the moment, and his neighbor, Ranboo, who was also gone. It was just the two of them, and that was fine with Grian for now. He still wasn't sure what type of afterlife he’d wound up in and having more people in his afterlife sounded like too much right now. 

A hot mug was placed in his hand. He glared at it for a moment, the steam and heat not quite welcome despite him still warming up from the cold outside. It almost made him want to drop the mug as his fingers started to burn. 

He watched as Philza sat down across from him, a few birds perching on the back of the chair. They squawked a few times, Philza’s nose wrinkling in disgust.

“So, I don’t suppose you’re used to the cold yet, huh?” Philza remarked, lightly batting away a bird that nudged his cheek.

Grian hesitated at that, especially when the birds stopped moving to stare at him. It was unnerving with how they all looked at him, watching with an unblinking stare. “I– no not really. I’m used to warmer climates.”

“Oh, warmer climates… like deserts?”

Grian tensed at that, his wings folding up closer to his body. He glanced up at the birds, who’d started to disperse, moving to perch on other objects in the room, observing him from all angles. “I-yeah, like deserts I guess. How did you–”

“The sand,” Philza gestured to the grains that were slightly dusting the ground now, “It’s all in your wings mate. That can’t be comfortable.” 

“I’m used to it,” He replied slowly, ducking his head.

“I fucking bet,” Philza rolled his eyes. He slipped out of the chair and onto the carpet, patting the space in front of him, “Come on, up! Let’s get those fixed.” 

Grian blinked down at him, “What?” 

“You’re getting sand in my chair, mate. It’s a bitch to clean up when it gets into furniture. So, come sit, I can clean them for you.”

He stared at Philza for a long moment, not sure he was actually hearing him right. It had to be a misunderstanding on his part. Preening was intimate. At least, it was supposed to be. Sure he’s had a few hermits he was less than close to brush a feather back into place or pull a pinhead, but Mumbo was the only person he’d let sit down and run his fingers through them in ages. Him and, of course, Scar these last few weeks. The only other person he evenly remotely trusted in the games once the blood started spilling (and spilling and spilling until all that was left was Scar’s blood to spill). 

“It’s just getting the sand out, come on,” Phil waved him over again.

Slowly– ever so slowly– Grian slipped onto the floor with Philza. He had to set his mug down a second to stop it from spilling on the carpet as he turned his back to the other.

A part of him expected to feel the punch of a sword between his shoulder blades. He was tense as a bowstring, waiting for the impact. 

When the fingers slipped between primaries he flinched. 

Immediately the hands were gone. Neither of them said a thing for a second, then Philza went back to it. Grian was still tense, but he tried to stay still, hoping to make the process a bit quicker. 

Philza worked deftly and diligently. “My son was an avian too,” he muttered softly after a moment, “He had his mother’s eyes.” 

Grian hummed in response, not sure how to answer that and not sure if he was supposed to. Instead the quiet lingered, but the tension was loosening. He ruffled a few feathers, shaking out a bit of sand himself. Philza chuckled behind him before grabbing the crest of a wing to still it and returning to his work. 

After that, Philza would make idle chatter, commenting on his adventures and his sons. Grian slowly relaxed under it all. The hands in his wings, the comforting warmth of the cabin and the hot tea in a pretty red terracotta mug. 

It would be morning by the time Grian woke up again, a red wool blanket thrown over him. He’d have a million things to figure out and people to find, but until then he would fall asleep to the gentle help of a new friend. 

[thoughtsaladblog]

Sunset Purple Glasses Don't Look Good On You

It's been a blue and lavender haze these last couple of weeks. Imagine finding someone that's your mirror in so many ways and your flip side in so many others? It's a high. And that's what it's been for me with Mr. Morally Grey. My brain on overdrive, I keep wondering why I'm so attracted to him. I mean I know it's his intellect and wit- always the most attractive quality in someone... But also maybe it's knowing that this will go nowhere.

I've finally met my match. I've met the man who wants all the same things as I and shares very similar ideals and I can't have him. And if there's one thing I know I want- it's what I can't have. I mean, don't we all?

Everytime he talks I feel drawn to him- I just want to curl up on a couch, glass of wine in hand and just listen (probably not quite keeping my hands to myself, but either way). It's so erotic to find someone with so much knowledge to share and at the same time thinks like you; sexually liberal and kind. He comes off all secretive- and he is- but I have him figured for the most part.

I'm still trying to figure out if he genuinely cares or likes to control the situation in how he handles the Friday gang. It has a certain endearing quality to it- almost big brotherly and protective (something I feel for my monsters)- if he is in fact doing it out of concern for them. But there's also the possibility that it's because he is used to controlling situations- and I can't help but wonder if he is trying to protect them but also perhaps control the path their lives take with his influence. But to be fair I have on many occasions been the same- and it has taken a while to teach myself to take a backseat in my kids' lives and not to control the path they take- regardless of how good my intentions are. I'm still learning, when it comes to Dinuth. I have a lot of trouble letting him go make his own mistakes- I always feel like protecting him. So to see similar characteristics in Mr. Grey just feels like meeting a kindred spirit.

I also know that he is very self aware- he knows very well the effect he has on women and that's a thing with him... He needs power and control. He does it so seductively though- pretends to rescind control all in an effort to control the whole situation. He says all the right things- things I like to hear, and I know he does this becasue he knows very well what he stands to gain from it. He is always in control and always needs to be- but wants us to think that somehow we are the ones in control. His mind games are on the level of an advanced psychological thriller- but he always holds the power. Unfortunately as much as it turns me on to be dominated during sex, I'm not used to giving up control at any other time. But he certainly controls me at other times- because he decides when to text back/call and the direction our chat takes. He is a master manipulator...But still I'm drawn to him and his red flags. He's a giant Chinese flag and I'm like the Sri Lankan government at this point- just waving my white flag in surrender, asking to be invaded, pillaged and plundered. He always deflects when I try to make a conversation real or personal, so I'm constantly left obnubilated. But my clouded heart still wants to be his.

Logic and sanity have left the chat. My heart is at the helm now and I'm a tangled mess of emotions, meandering through whatever this is. Wishing it to turn into something it wouldn't- something that can only leave me in a similar state as I was in 2015. But what can I do when my head and heart play tug-o-war and my heart is winning?

So I live in this lavender haze, sunset purple glasses casting a seductive glow on this barren wasteland as I pray for rain in the time of lasting drought.

[nightingaelic]

Companions react to a Courier who is actually a child they just never noticed because they’re always wearing the Desert Ranger helmet (sorry I just can’t get this idea out of my head)

It had been a few days since the courier had taken up traveling with their companion, and though they still held their cards close to their chest, the formalities of a new partnership had softened somewhat. Sure, the courier was secretive, a little bit guarded, and surprisingly short, but they more than made up for their quirks when they charged into battle against whatever wasteland threats were feeling lucky that day. That's how their ever-present Desert Ranger combat helmet wound up with a smashed lens, after a particularly vicious attack from a group of feral ghouls.

"Goddammit," the courier swore passionately, before fumbling with the strap of their helmet. "These things don't grow on trees, the NCR doesn't hand these out to just anybody, I had to pull this from a corpse I found back in..."

They kept going as they pried the helmet off, revealing a face that held the unmistakable fullness of youth. As they picked shards of glass from the helmet's eye socket, their companion just stared at them.

Finally, the courier noticed the silence and looked up again. "What? Do I have glass in my face or something?"

Arcade Gannon: "How old are you?" Arcade demanded. "And don't give me some hedgy answer about not knowing your birth date or year, you have to have some idea."

"What does it matter?" the courier shot back, shaking their helmet out over the Mojave dirt. "I can shoot, I can run, I can track and fight and patch myself up afterwards-"

"That's not the point," Arcade said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't be older than 12, you should not be out here hunting down raiders and wandering around vaults-"

"Motherfucker, I am 13 years old, don't tell me I can't-"

"Oh my god, you're 13." Arcade stared up at the barren sky, questioning every decision he'd made in the past week. Several realizations struck him at once. "You're 13. Did Benny and the Khans know? Did House?"

The courier shrugged. "Hell if I know. If they did, they didn't care. Neither should you."

"The fact that I care is probably going to save your life," Arcade replied dryly. "Come on. We can wander around the desert taking NCR contracts after you've gone through puberty."

Craig Boone: "We shouldn't be out here," Boone said, suddenly angry.

The courier brushed some stray glass from their coat. "Well, we have to be. Someone's got to check out the REPCONN test site, and I need to find out where Benny went. If you want to go back, though, I guess we can-"

"You shouldn't be out here," Boone clarified. "Tracking down the person who sold my wife is one thing. Sending a kid into a war zone is another."

"War zone?" the courier scoffed. "Listen, I'm not a child soldier, I'm just trying to get by. Plus your buddy's extorting me, so it's not like you can argue that I'm doing this just for fun."

Rather than answer them, Boone swung his rifle around to his back and swept them up in a firefighter's carry. "Hey!" the courier cried, pounding on his shoulder and chest. "Put me down, you piece of- I can handle myself, you know I can- asshole, I've been a courier longer than you've been living in Novac!"

Boone ignored them and turned back toward the town they'd left. "We're going to have a chat with Manny about his practices when hiring outsiders to do security jobs."

Lily Bowen: "Oh, pumpkin," Lily said sadly. "You didn't tell me you weren't ready to be out wandering the wasteland, even if you brought Grandma along."

"Grandma, I was already wandering the wasteland when I came up to Jacobstown," the courier replied, picking some glass from beneath a fingernail. "And what makes you think I'm not ready? I just demolished those ferals."

"Leo killed the ferals," Lily argued.

"Okay, maybe you took out most of them," the courier admitted. "But I still managed to get three or four. You can't tell me I'm not ready to be out here when I've been out here for as long as I can remember."

"Where is your mama?" Lily demanded, clearly agitated. "She should be taking care of you. Or your father. I'm going to have a word with your parents, dearie."

"Good luck," the courier muttered. They finished clearing out the damaged glass and jammed the helmet back onto their head. The open socket left one of their eyes exposed, but it was better than nothing. "I've got business in Westside. Are you coming or not?"

Lily crossed her arms. "If your parents are busy, then you're staying with Grandma until they come back."

The courier sighed. "Fine."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Dios mío." Raul clapped a hand to his forehead in distress. "You're not old enough to be out here by yourself, boss."

"Well, I'm not," the courier pointed out, tossing a piece of glass over their shoulder. "By myself. Thanks to you."

"Well sure, now you're not, but what about before I came along?" Raul shook his head. "You need to be somewhere with more walls and fewer raiders."

The courier looked unconvinced. "Make me."

Raul wasn't in the mood to argue, and he strode forward, intending to seize them and drag them back to Goodsprings, or Primm, or any settlement where there was no longer a looming threat. "Ya estuvo suave, you're coming with me."

"Bájale dos rayitas," the courier advised him, backing away. "I've made it this far, haven't I?"

Raul reached out for them, and the courier ducked and took off. The string of Spanish curses that chased them was long and earnest, but it took some time before the pair ran out of energy and drew to a halt on the dry Mojave flats. "Are you done?" Raul asked, between deep breaths.

"Not... on your life," the courier answered, with a mischievous smile.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass raised her eyebrows and uncorked her canteen. "Nothing. Just figured you were a little older than 13, is all."

The courier smirked. "And what gave you that idea?"

"Mmm." Cass took a swig of water. "Dunno. Maybe it was the whole yarn about getting shot in the head and chasing the culprit all the way to New Vegas. Didn't seem like a kid's story, but now that I'm hearing it back, it does sound a little far-fetched."

"I didn't make it up!" the courier insisted angrily. "Look, right here."

They tilted their head to the side to show off a wicked bullet scar that had been stitched up over their ear. Cass moved in to examine it, and her expression became very grim. "So that part's true, at least. Damn shame."

"And I'm not letting that checkered fuck get away with it," the courier agreed. "You still want to help?"

Cass nodded. "More than I did before. Anyone who looks a preteen in the eyes and shoots them point blank is someone in need of a visit from the angel of death."

"Good." The courier put the helmet under their arm and jerked their head to the north. "Then let's go."

Veronica Santangelo: "Soooo..." Veronica smirked. "When were you planning on telling me you were just a baby?"

The courier frowned. "I am not a baby. There are plenty of couriers out there who are younger than me."

"Oh, sure, I can see the appeal." Veronica nodded. "Aside from the usual problems, it's easy work. Especially if you don't have any family... ties. Um."

She looked down, and the courier's eyebrows went up. "Question?"

"Nope." Veronica pursed her lips. "Maybe. Are you..?"

"On my own?" The courier smiled. "Well yeah, but don't feel bad about it. It's nothing I'm not used to. Plus people like you are usually jumping to come with me, so it's not as lonely as it used to be."

"Aww." Veronica met their eyes again with a smile. "Glad to hear it. And if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"Your hole in the ground?"

"My hole in the ground."

The courier laughed and chucked a piece of glass away into the brush. "Thanks. Don't get too sappy on me, though."

ED-E: The courier's eyebot beeped and tilted its speaker up and down, as if indicating interest in the courier's entire self.

"Oh, yeah." The courier smiled. "People take me more seriously if they think I'm older. It's a pain in the ass to keep the helmet on all the time, but it works. Hell, I've been served in bars without any questions since I started wearing it."

ED-E trilled and gave a few more suggestive blips. The courier laughed. "Well no, most bartenders don't give a shit how old you are anyway, but you get fewer judgmental looks if they think you're an adult. Still, it'll be a good day when I can start passing for grown. This thing can get really hot."

Rex: Rex barked. He'd known the courier was young. Seeing their face was nothing more than confirmation for the cyberdog, and he lolled his tongue and panted.

"Yeah, I'm okay, buddy," the courier reassured him. "And I know you'd like me better if I didn't wear this, but it's for my own safety... in more ways than one."

They finished poking out the broken glass and put the helmet back on. Rex growled half-heartedly, but he quit when the courier reached down to scratch the ruff of fur around his neck. "Still me, boy. Let's hit the road."

[jonspurpleskirt]

Down the Spiral

Tim Stoker & Jonathan Sims, hurt/comfort

Summary: Michael loves playing with the Archivist and so after Not-Sasha is taken care of and Jon is back at the Institute murder charge free it reveals that he has Sasha stashed "savely" in its halls. All Jon has to do to get her out is go through the yellow door. ____

Everything just kept getting worse. That thought hadn't left his mind since the confrontation with Elias. It kept him from his work, making him stare at the statement he had wanted to record hours ago. Something impatient within him tugged to finally get on with it, but his eyes just didn't see the words in front of him and the insides of his head kept resembling a barren wasteland.

There was nothing good in his life anymore. There was nothing good in any of their lives anymore. He had ruined everything. Dragged everyone into the cage with him and locked the door because he hadn't known any better.

If he had just known...

But he hadn't and now they were all trapped here. Nothing waiting for them outside and nothing but hostility meeting them inside. At least that was the case for Jon. He didn't know if Tim and Martin still spoke, still sometimes joked with each other. If Melanie had made friends with Basira perhaps, or god forbid even Daisy. The two of them shared a frightening amount of bloodlust.

He doubted it, though. Whenever he dared to emerge from his office these days the atmosphere in the shared space of the Archives was tense. One or more of them were always gone, Basira more often than not sitting somewhere reading.

Neither of them did much work these days, Jon mused. It was funny that once upon a time that thought would have made him angry.

Jon sighed, glancing over the statement for the upteenth time, saying to himself that now he would finally start and do some work, when loud cursing and several crashes made him jump out of his chair and run towards the door.

He ripped it open with the wrong hand, the burn left by Jude Perry sending a stab of pain through his arm.

Basira, Tim and Melanie were for once all there, and had taken on various defensive poses. They didn't grace Jons dramatic entrance with even the slightest of glances, but the being that called itself Michael grinned and cooed as though it didn't have a knife, an axe and a gun pointed at it.

"Archivist! Just whom I wanted to see~ It is quite hard to get a grip on you, you know. I've been meaning to have a little chat with you for a while now."

Jon squeezed his eyes together to ward of the headache Michaels multiple voices and impossible features always gave him. He breathed through the pain, before looking at the Distortion again, squinting to be able to make out something that resembled a coherent form.

The image still swam in front of him, Michaels smile literally blinding, teeth flashing with too many deeply saturated colours.

"Hello Michael. What do you want?"

"Awww you don't sound excited to see me at all! I've got more of a reaction from your assistants."

The thing pouted, but the grin reappeared fast when it heard the click of the safety of Basiras gun coming off.

"Aha I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The voice it used screeched like nails on a chalkboard and a microphone with its volume set too high. Weapons clattered to the floor as everyone scrambled to shield their ears from the sound. Jon felt a trickle of blood running down the side of his neck and winced.

"There. Better. You people are so rude." The laughter that followed was worse than the voices before, high pitched and low, aggressively amused.

"Michael." Jon hissed and it stopped.

"Yes dear Archivist?"

"Why are you here?"

"Ah." A misplaced chuckle, alltogether fake and a hungry grin. "I've heard you've dealt with Not-Sasha! Congratulations! Do you want the real one back now?"

"What?"

Tim had recovered fast and somehow had already taken up the axe again. He looked more than prepared to chop Michaels head off with it.

"Oh hello! I forgot you were here, too. How did you like my hallways?"

"Fuck you! What are you talking about?!"

Michael shrugged, or what could be perceived as a shrug. It was hard to tell when there seemed to be three sets of shoulders all in various places they shouldn't be.

"It is as I said. I took Sasha into my hallways so she could flee from the thing in the table. And now that Not-Sasha is gone I'm willing to trade her."

"Trade her for what?"

Jon had a bad feeling about this, but he let Tim lead the conversation. Better he ask the questions. Jon didn't want to accidently use compulsion and make Michael angry.

"Why for the Archivist of course! I'm terribly bored at the moment. No good prey out there. And I'd love to see how my hallways work against someone from the Eyes ilk."

"So it would be a game to you." Jon was careful to not word it as a question.

Michaels blinding smirk hit him square in the chest and left him heaving. "Yes, you could see it that way."

"Jon." Basira warned, inching toward him.

Melanies lips were pressed into a thin line, her eyes never strayed from the Distortion, even when tears started to run down her face from the strain. She kept quiet, but it was clear that she would attack if she felt it to be necessary.

"And that exchange."

"Yes." Michael dared him to ask.

"What would it look like."

"No static! My you are truly making an effort! It goes like this. You come here and step into my door and I let Sasha out."

"Jon we can't trust him." Basira hissed.

"I'm an it, actually." Michael purred.

"Whatever."

"I know. I want to see her. Melanie, you know what Sasha looks like. We'll both verify."

"Hmmm, sounds like a deal. Come here."

Jon scowled at the crooked finger beckoning him to come closer. Michaels horrible 8 bit laugh echoed through the Archive again.

"Don't be shy. I won't stab you this time, I promise!"

"What." Tim sounded about as done as Jon felt.

He'd rather not have to explain himself though. He was glad Tim wasn't directing his ire at him at the moment. So he quickly crossed the distance and came to stand stiffly beside Michael, tensing when the entity curled three of its impossible long fingers around his elbow.

"Marvelous!"

Another door that had appeared in on of the shelves banged open and out of it stumbled a woman with clammy tanned skin, big round trendy glasses and warm brown wavy hair, her grey eyes open wide.

Tim stumbled forward to catch her, trembling about as much as her. "Sasha?"

He looked to Jon for confirmation, who had to fight back his own tears. "Yes. Yes."

"That's her." Melanie whispered her own affirmation.

Before the smile on Jons lips had time to fully form he was yanked back, the yellow door slamming shut behind him. It felt like being dragged into a whirlpool while high on LSD and if Michaels realm would have permitted it Jon would have lost what little food he had eaten that day right then and there.

As it was he had to endure the minutes or hours he had to get used to the shift in reality, unsure if he was standing, laying down or sitting. When his head eventually stopped spinning and his eyes and other sensory input systems agreed to work again he found himself standing at a deadend. The door and Michael were gone, but the air was still filled with joyous laughter.

"Welcome to my humble abode little Archivist! I hope you like getting lost~"

Jon frowned at his surroundings that seemed to tilt and wobble under his every step. He was sure Michael was being extra distorting with the surroundings it had thrown Jon into. Jon didn't want to give it the satisfaction of knowing how much that bothered him. Although he doubted he could hide his terror from it.

Time didn't matter in the Distortions halls. It all melted together, turning and twisting into a bizarre fever dream. Jon relaxed as much as was possible with the horrible migraine that had formed behind his eyes. This actually wasn't so bad. He would probably just wander around aimlessly until he would either die from hunger or thirst, Michael would grow bored and kill him or he actually found the exit.

Jon very much doubted the latter. He had no real grasp of his supposed powers and the Beholding only opted to drop in a fact or two about the colours that normal humans shouldn't be able to see.

When he didn't grow tired nor hungry or thirsty in what he presumed was quite a while a new fear formed beside the pounding in his head. What if he was stuck in here forever?

But even that terror dulled over what didn't quite account for time. The hallways got tamer. They were still decorated with garish colours and wallpaper, bits of furniture strewn about here and there. But they had stopped being all wobbly and impossible.

Well they were less impossible. Jon thought as he walked through a wardrobe only to emerge from a mirror into a room with six walls, three doors, a window and a painting.

On and on it went until he felt deep in his bones a rhythm to it all. There was a spiral pattern to the twisting turns of the rooms and hallways. Inverted and containing a lot of deadends, but it was there and all Jon needed to do was follow it.

Down and down he went, even when the path lead him upward or turned him upside down. His head started to feel blissfully empty for once. No worry, no greater goal. He could just exist here in this weird home and wander. He might be as lost as he had been in the real world, but at least here he wasn't hurting anyone.

Electrical lights flickered on and off before turning to torches casting pink shadows across the chessboard walls. He startled out of his haze when he heard the clacking of heels somewhere to his right, a thought thundering into his mind, shattering all other not thoughts that hadn't resided in there.

"Helen!"

"Jon?"

"Helen! I'm here. Stay where you are!"

Jon skidded around the corner and there she was, still wearing her business dress and jacket, chin length brown hair curling around her ears. She was sobbing before he could even get to her and soon he had an armful of crying real estate agent in his arms.

They held each other tight and just weeped for what felt like an eternity, but was still too short.

"I was so scared." Helen sobbed as she drew back just enough to fix her gaze on Jon. "I thought I walked out of the Institute, but instead I found myself back in these horrible hallways and I couldn't find a way out this time, but I just couldn't stop walking, you know? I needed to find some way out. And Jon, Jon! There's an end here. It's close I just know it! You believe me right? That's why you're here? You're also looking for the end?"

Jon rubbed up and down her arms to calm her. "Yes. Yes Helen. I'm so sorry. Had I known-"

"It's alright." She gave him a watery impression of a smile. "It'll be all alright soon. I hear it whispering. Come."

"Now that was quite the show." Michael suddenly stood between them and they sprung apart. It had its arms crossed and a deep frown carved into what could have been its face.

Jon couldn't exactly make out its eyes. And yet he was sure there was a spark of fear there.

"It was nice to play with you." Michael adressed Helen. "But I feel you overstayed your welcome."

A door appeared behind her, standing in the middle of the hallway, no walls around it.

"There is the exit. Shoo."

She looked at Michael with wide, glassy eyes. "No. No I can't. I need-"

And with a sudden, horrible clarity Jon knew what would happen if she didn't leave now. A door locked from the outside. The body of Michael Shelley destroyed. Helen lost.

"Helen. Please believe me when I say that this is better. Don't heed the call. It will only cost you."

Her flitted between Jon and Michael, hesitating. "Why?"

"Michael was human once, too." Jon whispered and understanding bloomed behind her eyes.

"Oh. But can I be sure?"

"I can." Jon assured her. "You can open that door. It's save."

She swallowed. "Okay. Okay. Are you coming with?"

She reached for him, but Jon shook his head. "No. I don't believe my game is quite finished yet."

He looked over to Michael to make sure. The Distortion looked back at him, frown lightened by a pensive look. It didn't feel the need to correct him.

"Okay." Helen said again, sounding like it was everything but. "You'll be fine, though?"

Jon gave her the best smile he could manage at the moment, which wasn't much. "I think so, yes."

"Good then. I'll... see you around. Just. Not here, I guess."

"Yes. Take care Helen."

"You too."

The door clicked softly shut behind her, taking with it the swift breeze of fresh air and gentle midday sunlight.

Jon sighed. "That was... something. Thank you for letting her go."

"Hmmm."

Jon felt a deep satisfaction at how uncomfortable Michael seemed to be at the moment.

"I guess I shouldn't continue to walk down, then?"

"You were walking straight."

"It's all the same here, though, isn't it?"

"Stop that." Michael frowned harder, drawing itself up, terror apparent in the way it shook, after images pulsing off it in waves.

"What?"

"Knowing me."

"Sorry."

"You could just walk back up again, you know." Michael muttered, friendly facade all but forgotten. A near death experience would do that to you. Jon could sympathize.

He nodded, indulgent. "I guess I could."

Michael heaved a sigh that sounded more like the blare of an airhorn. "I'll show you out."

Jon didn't deem it necessary to tell it that it could just manifest a door like it had done with Helen. He got that Michael probably needed a hot minute to digest what had just happened. And for once Jon was more than content with providing some company.

It was Michael who talked first, essentially giving Jon its statement. Jon saw the fierce anger burn behind those multicoloured eyes and was reminded of Tim and his fury at Jons betrayal.

"How much of Michael is there in you, then?" Jon carefully asked, voice so soft it was barely there in order to keep any sort of compulsion out of it.

"That's not the right question to ask Archivist. Because there is no answer to that, that would stay definite. How much of you is in those tapes you record? It's your voice in there. How much of you is actually you? There's no meaningful distinction."

"That doesn't sound right."

"That's because you're too deep inside your head." Michael laughed. It wasn't as grating as usual.

"Thank you for keeping Sasha safe, by the way." Jon whispered into the screaming silence that had enveloped the two as they meandered through the endless expanse of hallway stretching out in front of them.

"You are no fun."

"Pardon?"

Slim fingers crawled like worms across his shoulder. His head spun with a sudden dizzying motion, feeling oddly light. His skin tingled with confused nerves at the points of contact. Unconsciously he leaned into the touch loosing himself in the sensations. The Distortion was less scary now that he knew it. It was actually kind of sad and he might have formed a small grudge against Gertrude for it.

Michael huffed beside him, caught between grinning and frowning. Jon wondered which emotion the Spiral wanted to portray and which one actually belonged to what was left of Michael Shelley.

"That's what I mean. You're not afraid at all! You're enjoying yourself. That just won't do."

It nudged him forward and oh, there was a yellow door there. Jon stepped up to hit and hesitated, hand hovering over the handle.

"What is it now?" Michael grumbled behind him, pout evident in its voice.

"I... I'm not sure if... I'm not sure if it's alright for me to get out."

Michael blinked at him in surprise. Jon shouldn't have been able to see it, but the motion was reflected in front of him.

"I just don't know if it's a good thing that I'm out there. Something is going on with me and at least in here I'm not hurting anyone."

"You... don't want to get out? You like it here?" Shrill, disbelieving laughter filled every nook and cranny of their space, drilling into Jons head and hollowing out his skull. Michael was bent over in a spine breaking way, arms wrapped twice around it and shaking with manic chuckles when Jon turned to frown at it.

"Two people in a row wanting to stay." It giggled, rightning itself. "I really need to redecorate this place." It shook its head, smile sharp yet soft. "No Archivist I will not drag you around as deadweight. Not when you aren't even making an effort of being afraid."

Jon squeaked as he was lifted, knife hands nicking the skin on his cheek and temple. With a heavy thump Michael kicked the door to the Archives open, startling Tim awake, who had been slumped over the desk, facing the door.

"We're baaack!" Michael crooned. "I'll leave you to decide if the Archivist should stay." He dumped Jon into Tims lap, who was barely awake enough to grab at Jon before he slid off.

"But Jon, when you next step into my door I will not let you back out again. See you around~"

Jon tried to identify the exact moment Michael had left the room. It was a futile attempt and not at all enough to distract from the fact that he was currently still inhabiting Tims lap.

"I'm sorry I'll-" Jon tried to stand up, but the arms around him tightened and he was squashed unceremonously against Tims body.

"Jon"

Oh no. What had he done now? He just got here why was Tim already so mad? Was he mad? Oh good lord he was crying. Jon awkwardly turned so he could sling unsteady arms around Tims neck, letting the man bury his head into his shoulder.

"Uhm hi?" He'd really rather go back to Michaels hallways now, please. This was already starting out to be a situation much more terrifying than wandering forever in a fever dream.

"You absolute bastard!"

"Sorry?"

Tim laughed and it was a strange sound. Too normal after who knew how long in Michaels domain.

"No you don't get to apologize. Not when you don't even know what you've done." Tim stood, Jon scrambling to get his feet under him so he wouldn't crash.

Standing on even, unmoving ground was like coming back on land after a year at sea. Tim shaking him did not help his coordination.

"You've been gone for over three months. Over three months, Jon! We had to blow up the circus without you. Elias was pissed! But Sasha managed to McGyver together a remote control for the C4 and it was amazing! Pressing that button was probably the best thing to happen in my life!"

"Wait slow down." Jon mumbled, trying to keep up with Tims flood of exposition while simultanously trying to get Tim to stop shaking him. He was going to be sick at this rate.

Tim didn't seem to hear him. "And then everything was over and Sasha was there, but you still weren't. And that bloody door stayed here all the while, mocking us. It wouldn't open. We tried everything minus blowing it up, figured you wouldn't have liked that. Tried to hunt down other Spiral locations, but no odd door would open to us."

Tim took a huge breath and stopped shaking Jon, his grip tightening when Jon tried to put some space between them.

"We didn't know what to do. And then about a week ago Helen came in to tell us about what happened in the hallways. She's fine by the way. Apologized for waiting so long before coming by. She was sad to see you still missing, left her contact details and wants you to call her when your feeling like the world makes sense again, whatever that means."

Jon knew exactly what it meant. He was sure it would take him a while to make sense of anything that wasn't strobe light effects, after images and nausea. He would have liked to elaborate on that and point out that he really should sit down oh my god everything was spinning.

"We figured if she was out you'd come back, too. And we didn't want you to stumble into an empty Archive so we took turns watching the door. Do you know how hard it was to keep Martin from hogging all the night shifts? The man hasn't slept more than a wink in months I tell you. He looks about as bad as you so if you don't let him hug you and fuss I will play the most embarrassing prank I can think of on you next April Fools day, you hear me?"

Tim shook him once and Jon had to cough and force the bile back down his throat before he could answer.

"Quite."

"Good."

There was another shaky exhale and a much more tentative hug. "You look like shit, come on you can crash at my place."

"I too have a flat, Tim." Jon felt the need to remind him, but let himself be led to the front doors and to Tims car, grateful to finally be allowed to sit again.

"You just came back. No way am I letting you out my sight and give you the opportunity to vanish again. Sasha and Martin would have my head."

Jon frowned down at his hands, flinching when the car sprung to life and grabbing for an empty take out bag, just in case. Tims behavior deeply confused him. The last time he had mother henned him like this was back in Research. Did Michael accidently drop him in a different dimension?

"We're there."

How did Tim get to the side of his door? When had they started to move? When had they gotten to Tims flat? Good lord time didn't make sense anymore.

Jon half stumbled out of the car and followed Tim into his apartment.

"Make yourself comfortable boss. I'll get you some tea, yeah? And food. Try not to fall asleep on me yet. And don't wander off."

Where would he even wander off to? Jon wanted to ask. He forgot about that as soon as his body hit the hard surface of the couch. At least the pillow was nice enough to cushion his fall. Letting out a pitiful groan he levelled himself up again to take his glasses off, rubbing at the spots where the plastic had dug into his skin.

He was glad that Tim seemed to have calmed down during the ride. Maybe doing something had helped. Tim had always been an action guy, needing an outlet for all the pent up energy.

It all felt so surreal. Here he was, out of the hallways, in Tims flat, with Tim being nice to him and the apocalypse over and done with. He would probably get an earful for missing out on that one later. Probably from Melanie. Maybe from Basira and Daisy.

Gods they were alright. He was gone for so long and they were all fine. Maybe a bit more traumatized, if Tims behavior was anything to go by, but alive. And in this economy that was probably the best outcome they could get.

"Sasha, how is she?" Jon asked as soon as Tim came back into the room.

A rainbow coloured mug and a bowl of instant noodle soup was placed on the coffee table in front of him before Tim answered.

"She's amazing. I mean she's doing well. She was in way better shape than you coming out of there. But I guess you didn't exactly go in at the heighth of your power. She said she was afraid for awhile, that Michael would keep her forever. But she was also curious how the hallways worked and she kinda got lost trying to figure them out? She chatted with Michael whenever it popped up to gloat. It kept her updated pretty well actually, which is kind of creepy. I think out of all of us she had it the easiest."

"That's... that's so good to hear." Jon breathed.

Tim chuckled. It sounded suspiciously wet. "Yeah. Come on sit up and eat your shitty soup."

Before Jon could move on his own an arm curled around his waist and hoisted him into a sitting position.

"I can move myself, Tim." Jon grumbled, leaning heavily into Tims side either way. Just for the contact, he told himself. He could totally sit upright if he wanted to.

"Of course boss."

Tim turned on the TV as Jon ate, the soothing chatter of news reporter talking about the weather filling the air. Jon was half dozing, unsure if he had eaten much at all when Tim moved him again.

"You want to clean up before going to bed?"

Jon took stock of his body, weighting his options. It was as if his muscles only now began to realize the amount of miles they had walked. His scars itched and pulled and the cut on his throat as well as the burn on his hand pounded against the confines of his mangled skin. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, a bit of vertigo still throbbing in the back of his skull, while his ears still echoed faintly with piercing, inhuman laughter.

"No?"

"Okay. Sit tight boss I'm gonna get you a blanket."

Sit tight... Where did Tim think he would go, if he wasn't even up for taking a shower?

"You got better, too." Jon said in lieu of a thank you when a heavy blanket got draped over him.

"Hm. Blowing up a building helped."

"Ah yes, arson. The best therapy of all."

Tim laughed at that. "You'd be surprised. But actually I did get a therapist at Sashas request. I blew up at her a few times in between and she didn't take it well. I wanted to be better for her."

"Good." Jon mumbled, half asleep. "That's good."

"Yeah. Sleep well."

"Hmhm."

He woke up in the middle of the night. Or was it day? It was dark, but the curtains were drawn so he couldn't be sure. It wasn't to a full body flinch like he was used to waking up with. Just a slow, disorientated blinking into wakefulness.

The flinching came later, followed by a yell when he made out a blurry shape sitting in the arm chair mere inches away from him.

"Good Lord, Tim! What are you doing?!"

"Making sure you're not getting kidnapped." Was the brightly given answer.

"That's creepy." Jon grumbled, rubbing his eyes and settling his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

"Well you're not the only one allowed to be spooky."

"M not spooky."

"Suuure. So Martin and Sasha will be by in a bit. Wanna tell me what all that about going back through Michaels door was about?"

Jon sighed. "He- it just threatened me."

"Really? Cause it kind of looked to me like it was kicking you out."

"I have it on good authority that I can be rather annoying, yes."

Tim crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at him. "Does that mean I and the others need to make sure you take the right doors from now on?"

"No?"

"That's not very reassuring, Jon."

"Why do you care all of a sudden?" It was said out of exhaustion and Jon immediately regretted it, seeing Tims face fall. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that."

"No." Tim took a shuddering breath, mussing up his hair with the hand that wasn't clutching at his own shirt. "No, that's fair. I've been an ass to you before... Fuck before you literally fed yourself to the Spiral in order to get Sasha back."

"You don't have to feel guilty about that."

"I do! But that's not just it. You've missed a lot. And I got better, but I'm still so angry most of the time. But when you were gone I was also fucking terrified. For Christs sake Jon we were friends once. And I just let you barter your life away like it was nothing. I was happy. When Sasha came back and you were gone I was even happy for a while."

Oh no he was crying again. They both were. He knew because Tim had gotten up to draw back the curtains before dropping onto the couch at Jons feet.

"I... it didn't last long. Call me selfish, but after a while all I wanted was for us to be complete again. You know the original four. It took me a bit to realize that I was mourning."

Tim barked out a broken laugh. "I've probably not slept about as much as Martin."

"You should then. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere at the moment."

"I can't. Every time I try I panic that you will be gone when I wake up."

Jon mulled that thought over in his head, an odd tingle flooding his body. "Lay down with me then?"

Tim stared at him for a moment, biting at his lip and barely stopping before drawing blood. "That... that sounds like an idea. Yeah. Let me draw the couch out first."

They could have just gone to bed, but Jon just about managed to drag himself to the armchair. And Tim hadn't offered so Jon wouldn't pry.

Tim collapsed on the couch and immediately reached out an arm and made grabby hands. Jon huffed out a small chuckle and obliged, trying not to seem too eager.

"We'll have to get up again when Sasha and Martin visit." Jon noted, snuggling into Tims chest with a sigh, whole body thrumming at the none violent contact.

"Sasha has a key." Tim muttered into his hair, spitting out some of the loose strands right after.

Jon shook his head. There seemed to be quite a lot he needed to be caught up on. And as they tangled their legs together Jon found that for once the future didn't look as threatening as it usually did.

[pvntherz]

The Beauty Of Death

A/N: if you find this concept/fic to be interesting. Ignore all the other fic under the tag "hades and persephone" because this is the first part of the rewrite. Also Hades is Anne, Persephone is Cathy P, and Hermes is Kitty. Just ignore the fact that my casting choices place them in weird relationships biologically 💀 Also props to Megan for helping me write this

Episkyros: A game for kids to play in Ancient Greece; which was something of a cross between rugby and American football.

Ostrakinda: A game in which a shell was painted black one side. The black side was “night,” and the unpainted side was “day.” Children divided into two teams, one for “night” and one for “day.” The shell was thrown and the team whose color came up had to chase the other team.

Part 1 Part 2

TW: uhh,, scars ig? I really don't know

💙💚💜

The underworld was a cold place. It was a barren wasteland filled with nothing but souls of the dead and desolate.

Or at least, that's what mortals told Persephone. They told her it was empty and that she'd die the second she stepped foot in the underworld. She'd been told of the horrible things Hades did to mortals who entered the underworld. Granted, Persephone was no mortal, she wasn't exactly the strongest of goddesses and most confused her for a simple forest nymph.

However that's not what Persephone saw.

She saw life, but something was off about it. Small children ran around, playing games like Ostrakinda and Episkyros, but the children were all bruised and cut. Women grouped together in circles, weaving baskets and chatting amongst themselves, but many of them were pale and sickly. Young women walked the streets with babies strapped to their backs and small children holding their hands, but the children had large bite marks and some babies having nubs where there should be fingers, feet, or hands.

The people Persephone looked at were dead, yet there was something about them that made them seem alive.

On top of the citizens lively appearances, the city's structural layout seemed no different compared to the few big cities Persephone had been allowed to visit. The buildings had all been laid out in a neatly organized manner, with the most important ones being placed on some kind of natural elevation, such as a hill or mountain top. The only difference being that for some reason, it wasn't a temple that was at the highest point, but a castle.

Persephone simply assumed it was for the more important government officials or maybe even Hades themself. Either way, she took note of the fact that if she wanted to hide out here, she'd best avoid going near it.

After staring for what felt like forever, Persephone stood up straight and began wandering the streets. She took a deep breath and inhaled the many scents of the underworld. It was strange. The aroma of freshly baked bread and fresh fruit filled the air, but was contrasted by the harsh smell of metals and silver. Persephone found a strange sense of comfort in it. The underworld was the one thing she craved the most.

Change.

The underworld wasn't perfect. Far from it, really. It showed the pain of society, it exposed everything about mortals that made them, well, mortals.

Persephone had wandered across a stadium. She expected to see lions and gladiators going at each other's throats. Instead she was met with a rather quiet, peaceful aura. Instead of bloodshed and gore, a play was taking place in the central ring. Which one she couldn't really tell, but it was interesting enough for her to sit down and watch the rest of it.

"Hey lady?"

Persephone tore her gaze from the play and looked to her left. She saw a small child with a face covered in cuts and scratches.

The young boy cleared his throat and held up a small wilted flower. "I saw you bring some grass back to life when you stepped on it and then flowers grew from it, so I wanted to see if you could do the same thing with this flower.." He looked away nervously.

Persephone chuckled softly and tapped her finger against the flower. "There you go, but you're gonna have to water it every day if you want to keep it alive." She ruffled the small boy's hair and stood up. "Our little secret, okay?"

The little boy nodded and ran back towards his seat leaving Persephone alone.

Persephone stood up and quickly left the arena, not wanting to cause more of possible ruckus than she probably just did.

She quickly ran down the pathway and turned whenever she possibly could. Until she couldn't. Persephone felt on edge. Every bone in her body screamed at her to run, but she couldn't. She knew what the feeling was, or at least, what it meant.

Something was coming and it was something entirely out of her domain. It was fast, faster than the poor girl could even think.

"Persephone?"

The young woman flinched and slowly turned around. "Oh...Hermes?" She let out a sigh of relief. "I thought there was some big dead thing coming for you or with you." She swallowed nervously.

Hermes looked over her shoulder and shook her head. "No, it's just me and Cerberus. Nothing you need to worry about."

Persephone tilted her head to the side and furrowed her eyebrows. "What is Cerberus?"

"You know, the big three headed dog at the other end of the beach." Hermes shook her head and grabbed Persephone's wrist. "Doesn't matter, I need to get you out of here before my aunt finds you."

Persephone tugged back. "No! I don't want to go back just yet! It's not like I've done anything wrong." She crossed her arms and looked up at Hermes.

"Well for starters, you're in the underworld despite being very much alive," Hermes poked at the smaller woman's shoulder. "Two, you brought life to the underworld which is a big no-no if you don't have clearance," She stepped closer to Persephone. "Lastly, you know how your mother gets when you go too far without her! I don't wanna be held responsible for you doing something stupid and dying!"

Persephone flinched and covered her ears. "Okay, okay! I'll leave, just don't tell mom! Please, I really don't wanna deal with another talking to." She looked up slowly and froze in place. "H-hello ma'am.."

Hermes knitted her eyebrows together and sighed. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not as stupid as Apollo and you can't-" She was suddenly aware of the presence of another person as she straightened her posture and gripped onto to the messenger bag and her caduceus. Hermes slowly turned around and looked up at the towering figure looking down at her. "Hey auntie." She stammered out.

Hades glared at her niece. "Go to the castle and stay in your room." She moved her hand and watched as Hermes sped off down the alleyway.

Persephone kept her eyes glued on the same path that Hermes had taken. She was nowhere near as fast as Hermes was, but there was a small chance she'd make it.

"Don't do it, you'll tear up your sandals," Hades said, eyes following Persephone's gaze. "Look, just follow me and don't try anything stupid. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

[cloudphillips]

Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Princess Joohyun gets kidnapped by a dragon just like one of those fairytale stories.

"Destroy the beast!"

Seungwan heard the call of vengeance from a mile away. Heard the metallic clanking of swords being unsheathed from their scabbards and spears being beaten against shields. Heard the war cry escape from mouths tainted with violence. Heard the rapid beating of hearts and numerous curses being thrown on the air.

What on earth? She pursed her lips and closed the book she was reading. She tentatively stood from her seat and silently walked towards the archway that led to the balcony. Who in the world is causing chaos at this ungodly hour? It was half past midnight. Surely, everyone in town was asleep by now.

Apparently, she was wrong because judging from the battalion of soldiers forming a blockade outside her lair and shoring up their defenses by sharpening their blades and pitchforks, it was evident that slumber was the least of their concerns as of this moment.

Her hands rested on the marbled stones molding the balcony and pretty much the entire abandoned castle she dwelled in. Even without the aid of her superior eyesight and enhanced senses, she could clearly tell that those soldiers were preparing an attack. She knew because she was observing from the highest room of the tallest tower. Besides, they were causing quite a racket. It was hard not to notice.

"With valor beating in our hearts and courage coursing through our blood, together we can finally vanquish the evil that has long infested our lands!"

A fair skinned man with dark hair and even darker eyes rallied the troops and gave them an impassioned speech. He looked like the leader of this rugged band of soldiers because he was fully adorned with armor and medals that signified his rank. His method of boosting morale proved to be effective because fiery determination now burned in their eyes.

Again? Seungwan sighed heavily. Seems like the king from the neighboring kingdom sent another batch of warriors to storm her lair. It was the fifth time this month. Why can't she catch a break?

It was not that Seungwan was ungrateful. She was and she appreciated their efforts of travelling such a long way just to visit this barren wasteland but she would've preferred if there weren't any attempts on her life at every given opportunity. Even immortals like her do get lonely and it was nice to have companionship sometimes. Had these soldiers arrive peacefully, she would've invited them over for a cup of tea and have a lovely little chat with them. Sadly, things don't always go the way she wants them to.

"The plan is simple. We must save the princess from the creature."

Oh, so they were after her all along. Seungwan guessed. She wouldn't lie and say that she was surprised. Ever since she made the mistake of kidnapping the princess, life became a little more stressful. Castle raids became a hobby soldiers engaged in these days and not a week goes by that there wasn't an attempted attack on her lair. It was hard to get a moment of peace. She couldn't even succumb to her yearly practice of hibernation without fear of being captured by her enemies.

"Now my brothers, join me as we destroy this demon!" The leader yelled and was joined by his comrades as their war cries echoed through the night. Seungwan could smell their aggression in the air as they boldly tackled the rickety wooden bridge that led to the entrance of the castle.

She winced when a soldier made the mistake of stepping on a wobbly plank that ultimately broke. He would've careened down the lake of fire that filled the moat of the castle if it weren't for his comrades pulling him to safety. Goodness, her castle was really crumbling apart. That old wooden bridge needed to be fixed. She didn't want the soldiers storming her lair fall to their deaths on that lake of lava.

"Wan?" Called out a lilting voice from the dimly lit room and the blonde immortal pursed her lips. The noise had woken her. Those racket caused by the soldiers had awoken her beloved and Seungwan didn't appreciate it. She was already exhausted enough as it is and she needed all the rest she can get.

She turned away from the spectacle outside and carefully walked back to her chambers, taking great effort not to make any more unnecessary noise. Seungwan quietly settled beside the elegant beauty still slumbering in her bed and enveloped their bodies in satin sheets. Her fingers brushed away stray locks of luscious raven hair and her lips placed featherlight kisses on smooth pale skin. "Yes Joohyun?"

Bae Joohyun, beauty personified, slowly stirred from her slumber to snuggle closer into her lover's embrace. She nestled onto Seungwan's neck and breathed in her scent before whispering "What are you doing up?" Exhaustion laced her voice and Seungwan couldn't help but sympathize. After a memorable night of endless lovemaking, tiredness crept on her bones which made her entire body sore. The blonde could only imagine how jaded Joohyun was, considering that her lover was still a human mortal and not a powerful being like her.

"There are soldiers currently storming the castle as we speak and they're being led by this general." Seungwan decided to inform her lover when her touch left trails of fire which ultimately chased away the coldness of Joohyun's skin.

"Oh." Joohyun replied casually as if castle raids were a normal everyday occurrence in their lives. As if being hunted down was another afternoon tea. "That must be Bogum. Why does he never take a hint?"

"They're looking for you princess." The blonde supplied, hoping to punctuate the gravity of the situation and make her lover realize that this was a serious matter.

"I'm well aware of that." She sought more of her lover's touch and pressed their bodies together. Her skin was already flushed with heat and she didn't bother hiding her arousal. Memories of last night lingered in her thoughts and judging by Seungwan's sharp intake of breath, Joohyun wasn't the only one aching to the core. "Should we make little baby dragonlings while they're at it?"

Despite the fact that they could literally die at any second, Seungwan couldn't help but laugh. Joohyun did have a way of making everything less serious as it seems. She shook her head and flashed her lover a fond smile. "You're incorrigible."

"Tell me something I don't know." With that, Joohyun pulled her close and their lips met in a searing kiss. All caution was thrown to the air and thoughts of self-preservation flew out the window. Nothing else mattered now. It was only her and Joohyun. Their bodies flushed against each other as both of them fought for dominance.

Seungwan always wondered how she got lucky. Fate had always been a thorn to her side but now, it seems like it's finally giving her reprieve after long years of spending her life in loneliness. You see, Seungwan was a dragon and ever since she made the mistake of kidnapping a princess, life became a little more stressful and every month, battalions of soldiers would raid her castle in the hopes of rescuing Joohyun. Peace was a foreign concept to her now and there was always an attempt to take her life but she wouldn't trade it for anything else.

For she'd rather live in strife than live without Joohyun.

The sound screaming and pillaging pulled the two lover's apart and eventually broke their kiss. Seungwan glanced worriedly at the wooden door that served as the only barrier between them and the rampaging soldiers. "I think I should go and deal with them."

"Yeah, you go do that, probably take out the leader first since the troops always lose morale if their head is beaten." Joohyun, sweet, beautiful and caring Joohyun, offered some cunning advice to her lover in the hopes of ending this minor inconvenience sooner so that she'd get to enjoy the lavish comfort offered by Seungwan's embrace. "Oh, please do leave one soldier alive so that he can go back to my father's kingdom and tell everyone that their princess doesn't want to be rescued."

"I don't know Hyun." Seungwan shrugged as hesitation crept up her gut. She never condoned violence and always avoided taking a life despite being an immortal dragon who was vicious in nature. "It would be a waste to kill Bogum. A handsome man like that should be allowed to live."

Something dangerous flashed in Joohyun's eyes when she regarded Seungwan with a steely glare. "I beg your pardon?" Judging by the cold tone of her voice, the immortal knew that she was in a lot of trouble. Damn it! She should've just kept her mouth shut. A jealous Joohyun was a deadly Joohyun. "Are you perhaps attracted to the king's trusted general? Should you have kidnapped him instead?"

"Oh no no no!" Seungwan was quick to placate her lover and professed words of love to reassure Joohyun that she was only dedicated to her. She took hold of Joohyun's delicate hands and gently placed featherlight kisses on each finger.

"I'm." A kiss. "Hopelessly" And a kiss. "Devoted" Another kiss. "To" And another kiss. "You."

"You speak of lies." Joohyun grumbled and rolled her eyes but there was a satisfied smile threatening to break her lips. "It's gonna take more than that to earn my forgiveness." She crossed her arms and acted like she wasn't enjoying all the attention Seungwan was giving her.

"I would do anything just to get into your good graces once again princess." And Seungwan would indulge her beloved princess for who was she to deny Joohyun of her affections.

"Hmmm." Joohyun tapped her chin and made a show of thinking a fitting punishment for Seungwan. She already had one in mind long ago but it wouldn't hurt to bask in her lover's ardor once in a while. "Deal with those soldiers first and give them a lesson."

"And then?" The immortal asked.

"Then come back here so that you can help me make those little dragon babies." The princess demanded and Seungwan couldn't help but smile. Oh Joohyun.

"As you wish, your Highness."

***

The screaming lasted for an hour before it eventually died down to a quiet stillness. Piles of unconscious bodies littered the abandoned castle and Bogum fell on the floor, quaking in fear, terrified at the sight of a large golden dragon with striking blue eyes advancing upon him like a predator prowling its prey. His back hit the wall and he closed his eyes and prayed for the end to come. He waited for a few seconds before he took a peak on the mighty beast and was surprised to find a striking angel with golden blonde staring back at him with a soft smile gracing her lips.

"Go." The angel spoke in the kindest tone ever. Her voice weaved like heavenly melody. "Go and don't ever come back."

The knight glanced at the carnage all around him and Seungwan answered the question running in his head. "They're not dead, just unsconscious. Now, go and tell the king not to send anymore troops to invade this castle."

"But the princess--" Bogum started to object but got interrupted.

"Doesn't want to be rescued." A soft smile graced the immortal's lips at the thought of her lover. "She has chosen to stay here and I suggest you respect her wishes."

"I can't fail my mission! I'm supposed to bring her back argh!" Bogum felt the sudden hit of deadly talons as it was embedded on his shoulder. He found himself staring at the woman's arm and realized with abject horror that the she was the enemy all along. Her smooth skin had morphed into golden scales that glinted under the sunlight and instead of having nails, she possessed razorsharp claws instead.

"My claws are not poisoned. They're only laced with concoctions designed to make you fall asleep." The angelic woman reassured him as the knight slowly stopped resisting. His breathing eventually turned shallow and his eyes became heavy as drowsiness settled in.

"You'll be okay." Was the last thing he heard before he drifted into a fitful sleep.

"So, did you destroy everyone?"

Joohyun curiously inquired when she caught sight of Seungwan safely return back to their shared chambers. Her lover looked quite ruffled after the battle but otherwise remained unscathed. Only her hair was dishevelled and clothes in disarray.

"Nope, merely put them to sleep before I transformed and carried them over then flew them back to the kingdom." Seungwan merely shrugged as she busied herself cleaning up the soot on her body. "You should've seen the king's face though! The sight of a mighty dragon landing on the plaza square and dropping off his unscious army was enough to render him speechless." She briefly chuckled at the memory.

The princess frowned. "You didn't have to go through such lengths. They could've travelled back on their own." Seungwan had such a soft heart. It was a cruel world and Joohyun was afraid everyone would take advantage of her lover's kindness.

"I know but I had make a good impression on your father if I ever want to become part of the family." Seungwan grinned cheekily as she finished cleaning herself up and settled beside the princess.

"That family sold me off like a rare commodity and almost forced me to marry a man I have never even met. Forgive me if I value them less." Joohyun was upset. Who wouldn't be? If Seungwan was subjected to a fate like that then she'd be upset too.

"Hey, it's okay. You're here now. No one can force you to do the things you don't want to do anymore." Seungwan cradled Joohyun's face and stared deeply into her eyes as she whispered. "You're free."

Tears clouded her eyes and the princess uttered the words she long kept held in her heart "Thank you."

For saving me.

Seungwan never did say anything back but her eyes declared the words I love you and that was enough for Joohyun. It was enough to last a lifetime.

Seungwan may have stolen Joohyun from her rightful kingdom that day.

But Joohyun had stolen her heart forevermore.

As they held each other in silence, Seungwan rested her head upon Joohyun's lap and closed her eyes. A small satisfied smile escaped her lips and she asked the princess for a rather odd request. "Tell me a story."

Joohyun merely ran her fingers through those golden locks of hair as her eyes traced every bit of the immortal's features and commiting them to memory.

"Once upon a time, there was a dragon who fell in love with a princess."

Her thumb gently caressed the soft valleys of Seungwan's lips.

"And the princess loved her back."

[whatnameshallitake]

I could’ve loved you

//to everyone i could’ve loved, but didn’t//

The non-chronological personal project of mine, as was requested by @writingonesdreams

This was written for everyone I could’ve kept falling fallen in love with, but ultimately did not.

I’m only posting the first two people on the list! Sorry~ Maybe someday, I might post the rest? Lmao ive fallen in love too many times

The whole work is below the cut~ I hope you enjoy ;D

•

 I | “Home is learning to forget”

 •

 Whenever I’m with you, logic escapes me.

You make me wonder.

You make me believe.

You made me hope.

 ~

 I remember a boy of happiness.

 —A boy who rose together with the sun, who accompanied the winds on whispering joy into my eardrums.

 His words trembled with laughter and merriment that it made me believe in magic in the world.

 I remember the warmth in his eyes as he stared into mine, heat filling my cheeks with every passing second.

 I remember his hands as they held mine in a comforting grip— calloused slightly, with long fingers. They removed every worry and regret etched on my palms.

 Do you remember? You smiled at me.

 It made me believe in wonder.

 ~

 Hope is a powerful thing—

 ~

 You told me you wanted to be an astronaut.

 It seemed fitting that you would want to escape this place.

 It seemed fitting that someone as otherworldly as you would want to come home again.

 I could almost hear the call of the cosmos, of the sun exclaiming, ‘My child, you belong here’

 After all, you were a child of the sun. The sea of people could never compare to the sea of stars. You didn’t need to be held abound by gravity.

 I could almost understand your heed to the universe.

 It called out to you, I know.

 But I could never understand why you couldn’t be home here.

  ~

 Once upon a time, you told me a secret.

 ‘I see the stars. I feel the sun. I hear the cosmos.’

 I know. I know enough. I know you.

 ‘I wouldn’t mind not coming back home

—if it meant coming back to you’

 I know the universe. I kno— What?

 ~

 In this small space of eternity that only held two people—

 You and Me

 —I understood two things:

 One, the familiar presence of your heat was overwhelming.

 In this infinite space between us, your warmth reached out to me. Your hand reached out to me and your laugh left me speechless when it finally reached me through the endless, empty, nothing, space between us.

 The sun probably granted you the flames to burn, but I didn’t mind much. I was happily ablaze, standing next to your dancing fire. It didn’t matter that I would burn, I wasn’t afraid of fire. I wasn’t afraid of you.

 I was afraid of losing you.

 Two, the familiar presence of your heat was overwhelming.

 In this infinite space between us, the emptiness stretched out until you were beyond reach. The cold suddenly struck me.

 It was suffocating.

 I didn’t realize how much I was accustomed to your warmth that I forgot you brought it with you.

 You brought with you the heat.

 ~

 this cold is unsettling where are you i need you

 i miss you

—you told me i could be your home

 ~

 Things you brought with you, on your voyage across the sea of stars:

 the wonder

the warmth

the joy

the light

the magic

 Things you forgot:

me

 ~

 Dusk settled and our long day ended.

 You were a child of the sun. You rose with him every morning.

 You left me to the cold night as it did.

 I rose with the moon in mourning.

 Maybe that was why the glamour of the dark was lost on me.

 I didn’t see the appeal of the moon and the stars.

—They weren’t you.

 And as shadows crept and settled against the eternal void you left within me, I learned how to forget the light you provided.

 I learned how to forget the warmth, and the wonder.

 I learned how to forget the joy and magic that you gave me.

 ~

 I now know one thing, from this empty space—

 Me

 —you left behind:

 The cold can’t embrace me like you did.

 ~

 —It’s hopeless.

 ~

 I could’ve loved you,

but I wasn’t the home you returned to.

 ~

 You, sun child.

 You, I know.

 I don’t need logic nor belief.

 I understand enough.

 You were the first of many

 ~

 I remember a boy of happiness.

 —The boy who rose together with the sun.

 I never could forget him.

 ~

 “welcome home...”

—the wind did not whisper back

 •

 II | “The day I left the Ghost of You”

 •

 The one left in rubble is not to be pitied

—he is to be respected and revered.

 ~

 It wasn’t as cold as I remembered.

 It wasn’t as broken as I thought.

 It wasn’t as empty as I’ve known.

 It wasn’t as lonely as it looked.

 ~

 Static noise only reached my ears even when the sea of people chatted away.

 I didn’t look to see the heavy words that floated around the atmosphere in a deceptively calm manner.

 All I could hear was the tap, tap, tap of my feet.

 My feet carried me to my place.

 My feet carried me to many places, and I’ve learned to know when and where I was needed.

 And right now, it seemed as if the universe needed me to drown in the sea of people.

 ‘Is it sure it needs me here?’

 I did not gain a reply; not that I expected any.

 The sea of people continued to spew out nonsense. At least, to me it was.

 The return of the tap, tap, tap accompanied me as I was led to a child.

 Curious.

 ~

 What makes a human mature?

 Is it to reach a certain age? To experience a certain event? To know certain information? To meet certain people?

 I don’t know.

 I don’t think I ever will

 ~

 I was still stuck in this barren wasteland.

 A handful of faceless people bump into me as I continue down the icy path.

 It was down a slope, into a new set of shadows that I’ve never encountered before.

 It really shouldn’t have surprised me; I had absolutely zero experience with the dark when I entered the empty space between.

 But now, as the path led on, it was quickly becoming second nature to walk this road.

 It has become familiar to the point of normalcy.

 Now that was dangerous.

 And for what?

 “You arrived earlier than expected.”

 I don’t really know.

 The universe led me to this boy, and I am but a servant to it’s whims.

 “Care for a match?”

 And the game began.

 ~

 Once I regained my bearings,

 Once I regained my logic,

 I became infatuated with problems.

 I quickly fell into the methodical process of solving, and thinking, and the systematical way of the numbers.

 “Your magic is useless here”

—silence

 ~

 You’ve lost the innocence of youth.

 It is evident in every empty smile you bear, with every haunting stare you send me.

 You have dead eyes.

 Then, I suppose you are…

 ~

 Chess is a favourite of mine.

 I’ve come to adore the thrill of the challenge it offers— every opponent with different techniques and strategies.

 It was easy to revel in the rush of things, to jump from one contingency plan to another.

 Device a strategy, watch it crumble, revise it.

 At least I had something to fall back on when everything else stumbled.

 I didn’t need to hope.

 I already knew.

 ~

 I remember thinking why the universe led me to you.

 I didn’t receive an answer.

 I remember you asking if I regret doing this to you.

 I d—

 ~

 Ah...

 Your face is annoying.

 Your voice is annoying.

 Your smile is annoying.

 You’re annoying.

  But I still listened to your idiotic nonsense.

 The shit that flow out of your mouth is astounding. Do you expect me to believe that you kiss your mother with that mouth?

 Hah. Disgusting.

 But still...

 Just finish your turn, it’s your move anyway.

 ~

 One day, the cosmos came to harvest a seed that I planted.

 I faintly remember the magic that used to keep it alive.

 The universe killed it, sadly.

 But never mind.

 A stronger, more vicious seed was cultivated to prevent it from happening again.

 This one had thorns now.

 ~

 An evil intention made itself known within the walls of my mind.

 I fell to the temptation of hatred.

 ~

 One plus one is two, as the mathematicians would say.

 Therefore, one thing led to another.

 From across this massive chessboard, the stares increased in duration.

 We played with the pieces, picked it up and put them away.

 That day, I found another thing to play with.

 ~

 You are but a shell of a child— so beaten and bruised.

 I was to be the new one you toyed with, as was penned by the threads of life.

 The tables have turned now

 ~

 Sometimes, on the rare occasion that I catch you peacefully asleep, I memorize every plane and lilting line that make up your face.

 You look so blissful that I can almost forget the feeling of emptiness your eyes hold.

 I can almost forget the pain and loneliness your exhales carry on into the dark.

 I can almost forget the weightless footsteps you impart upon this barren wasteland.

 I can almost forget that you’ve lost yourself in the eternal void in between.

 I can almost forget that you’re nothing but a gh—

 ~

 this is a dangerous game we’re playing.

 ‘i wasn’t aware that this was a game’

 we need to stop before i—

 ‘shush, no need to fret. i’m here’

 ~

 You fingertips draw small circles on the dip of my back.

 In the middle of this small piece of silence, an epiphany comes to me.

 ‘Your hands don’t feel like nothing, no more’

 I push down my dread and pretend to be unconscious

 ~

 It all fucking makes sense now.

 ~

 dear diary,

 today i found out what a villain must feel like all the time.

 it starts out with the thought of, “this will satisfy you”

 pushes you with the thought of, “you’ve already come this far”

 and it ends with, “what have i done”

 ...

 do you notice what’s different? what’s wrong?

 it never ends with a, “sorry, i’m so sorry”

 ~

 Your annoying face is now too sickeningly happy.

 Your annoying voice turned so sickeningly sweet.

 Your annoying smile became too sickeningly bright.

 And as your sweaty hands grab my cold ones,

As your poisonous lips touch mine,

As your tired mind race against mine—

 My thoughts are silenced with the mere weight your mouth places against my own.

 I close my eyes to avoid yours.

 ~

 You’re so sickeningly in love with me that it hurts.

 ~

 Deep in the shadows, you laid your heart bare to me.

 It was broken and dark, one that I really did not expect to belong to someone as young as you.

 But then, it did make sense. How could your eyes be so dark if it had not yet seen the light?

 No, only a battered and bruised and lost soul could condemn the path that led me to you with such sad shadows.

 Suddenly, all of the regret and pain and sadness and hate and hurt and—

 It all made sense now.

 Ah.

 This is annoying.

 But still, I listened.

 “This...”

 The words flowed out of your mouth easily enough, but why did the wind still strain to carry them? For a split-second, I wondered how such words felt so heavy.

 “I give this to you.”

 My throat dropped to the stone cold floor.

 “What?”

 I barely noticed my traitorous tongue move on its own accord. In my mind’s eye, I was still frozen in shock by what my ears have just picked up.

 “I love you.”

 Ah.

 “I love you so fucking much.”

 The slowed speed of the wind which carried the weight of your statements finally made sense. It was so heavy, it managed to break whatever was left of me.

 So fucking heavy that it made me wonder again.

 “Thank you.”

 nonoNoNonONoNonOnoNONON—

 I left.

 I stood up and raced up the dark path that’s become so familiar in the terrifyingly short amount of time.

 I left so quickly, hastily, I didn’t even notice the wilting flowers along the road.

 I failed to notice the tears that started to flow down your face.

 I didn’t notice pieces of your heart that lay there,

 broken, unmoving, silent,

 tragic—

 .

 Those were the pieces that I played with.

 ~

 I’m sorry. I’m so s—

 ~

 Although you were a child, you’ve seen a lot of dark things. Dark things that completely shrouded your life beneath the shadows.

 You didn’t even get to see the light again— even after your eyes stopped being so dead and started to fill up with joy at the mere sight of me I—

 I took it from you.

 ~

 I’m so so—

 ~

 What takes a human to mature?

 I may never know.

 I’ve forgotten how it was like to be human.

 ~

 I’m s—

 ~

 I never did go back to you;

 After I left...

 I heard that you died, but ghosts can’t really die a second time.

 ~

 I’m so sor—

 ~

 Years and years and years passed

—it’s only been days.

 You won the game.

 Checkmate.

 You won before it even started.

 You didn’t even have to do anything, I—

 Ah.

 I see.

 ...

 it took me a while to realize,

 no one really won,

 we both lost something the day i left.

 ~

 I’m—

 ~

 My feet carried me to places where I was needed.

 To this day, I’m still puzzled how I left you.

 You needed me, didn’t you?

 ~

 I’m so sorr—

 ~

 A child drowned in the middle of the sea.

 The sea of ghosts that whispered,

 “You

 You are dirty

 and You

 are worth nothing”

 He had no choice but to listen.

 Unknowingly, he became a ghost himself.

 ~

 I could’ve loved you,

but I didn’t want to lie.

 ~

 Yes, the universe led me to you.

 But I was the one who placed you second.

 And to your question

  My answer is,

 ...

..

.

 I don’t regret it.

 —but why does it hurt so much?

 ~

 Yes, it was nothing I ever imagined it would be.

 But I still left.

 ~

 I’m so sorry.

[fyrapartnersearch]

run to me, lover.

★　hi and welcome to my search! i’m saint/jude/thad/whatever variant of saint judas thaddaeus you wish to come up with. i’m lonely, i have cravings, and i’m looking for partners. specifically i’m looking for original roleplays and original characters in fandom settings. 　　A B O U T　! ★　female or neutral pronouns (she/her/they/them) ★　old enough to know better (20s) ★　existing alternately between this dimension and the next, but often in EST ★　lawful neutral with aspirations of chaotic neutral ★　breaker of chains, mother of cats 　　R E A D　M E　! ★　basically looking for active partners for casual word count rp’s and high emotional investment in characters and pairings. i roleplay over email and gdocs. i generally prefer to use discord for ooc chat/plot only, but if email and gdocs don’t work for you i will use it for posting as well. ★　i write multiple genders and prefer playing multiple characters (mains and otherwise) within a single rp. talk to me about your pairing and doubling prefs. i’m looking to play a lady in a m/f pair and happy to do whatever pairing my partner wants to double as. ★　 talk to me about faceclaims (real life only; i’ll probably use whoever you want if you’re someone who likes specific fc’s), playlists, aesthetics, headcanons, hypothetical scenarios, etc. i love nothing more than getting super invested in characters, couples, settings, and so on. ★　since i’m an adult i expect that the people i roleplay with will also be adults (over 18 and preferably over 20). while i’m fine with mature themes, please, please do not solicit me for pwp or roleplays in which the main conceit is kink-fulfilment. i’m more of a ftb person anyway because i’m old and tired and the thrill of trying to describe someone’s ding-dong has largely worn off for me. all main characters will be over 18 (most of my oc’s are in their late 20s or in their 30s, and no, i don’t do major age gaps). let me know if you have limits, triggers, squicks, or anything you would like to avoid in the roleplay or ooc. 　　O R I G I N A L S　! ★　detective/police drama: i’ve been on a big big detective show/true crime kick lately. and by lately i mean for my whole life. give me your grizzled, beaten-down detectives and police chiefs, your femme fatales, your wide-eyed rookies, your nosy journalists, your internal corruption, and your most aesthetic settings. wanna head to the cliffs of dorset like in broadchurch? let’s go. wanna head down to the deep south like true detective? i’m on it. wanna go somewhere new and weird? pack your bags, we’re headin’ out. for reasons i’m specifically craving something weird and grim set in iceland or scotland. have i been to either of those places? no. but the heart wants what it wants and my heart wants missing persons cases set in beautiful but challenging landscapes. ★　victorian paranormal/occult detectives: does what it says on the tin! basically like sherlock holmes but there’s ghosts and summonings. not super into vampires and werewolves, but i can be reasoned with. ★　i dunno how to describe this one aside from something along the lines of brideshead revisited? a bunch of attractive young people spending a summer at some beautiful country estate in the 1910s-50s, being privileged hedonists and adding a homoerotic flair to everything they do.  ★　i’m also happy to talk about less conceptualised shit. general interests include troubled relationships in interesting settings with melancholy soundtracks. i prefer settings that aren’t quite modern (ie. 1990s and before). i’m not interested in stuff like high school/college/apartment/neighbourhood/etc., however. ★　i’m always 100% down for a good historical roleplay. give me a nice medieval war of succession, some grey, barren, windswept brontëan landscapes, a pristine austenian parlour or the glitz and fast cars of fitzgerald’s 20s and the smoke and sparkle of the golden age of film and i’ll be a very happy gal. 　　F A N D O M S　! ★　ok here’s the thing. there are a few fandoms i’d be happy to play in, but i’m not super keen on playing canons at the moment or canon/oc. more interested in just using the setting/universe for our oc’s. however, if there is a canon in one of these fandoms you are dying for, i will almost certainly be happy to oblige. ★　marvel cinematic universe: i’m interested in exploring the post-snap/decimation era. obviously the avengers are a little shorthanded and with all that chaos it’s prime time™ for criminal activity. some new vigilantes fighting some new villains in this setting would be pretty sick. equally happy to go down less grim plot avenues. ★　fallout: pretty self-explanatory? just throw our oc’s into the wasteland of our choosing. i’m most familiar with new vegas and 4, but i’m acquainted with the capital wasteland and appalachia. i’d be down to use a setting that hasn’t been featured in the main series (fallout alaska fallout alaska fallout alaska). ★　spider-man: into the spider-verse: more spiderpersons. ★　pacific rim: kind of interested in playing around with the first-gen jaegers and rangers? like, pre-pacrim 1. everything is experimental, the world still hasn’t come to terms with the kaiju attacks, and rangers are dropping like flies. i haven’t seen the second movie but i’d be down to do something set after the first one, too. ★　mass effect: listen. all i want in this world is to throw together a motley crew of alliance and non-alliance, multi-species personnel doing random, non-shepard related missions during the reaper war. getting up to stupid shit and kicking ass, you know? something during the first contact war would be cool, too.  ★　dragon age: basically the same idea as mass effect except a crew of inquisition and non-inquisition, multi-species personnel doing random, non-inquisitor related missions during the events of inquisition OR non-hero of ferelden-related wardens doing warden shit literally anywhere, anytime, any day of the week. if you can’t tell, i fucking love wardens. 　　C O N T A C T　! ★　if you’ve gotten this far and think we can work something out, hit me up. send an email to ghvstbaby (at) gmail (dot) com. from there i can give you my discord tag, should you want it. please tell me a little about yourself and what you want to roleplay when you message me. emails that just say “are you still looking for partners?” or “hey i’m interested in rp” tend to get put in the trash.

[doomedandstoned]

Rise of the Wizard Union!

Part I: Seek & Ye Shall Find

By Billy Goate

Ceremonial Smoke by Wizard Union

After The Great Wizard Fight had scattered what was left of our clan to the four corners of this God-forsaken orb, it was believed that the Great Hoary Ones of Olde had all but disappeared from the land. Yet, in the progress of time, rumors passed by me -- whispers at first, faint as baby's breath, but slowly they crescendoed into a wyvern's roar. The Wizards were back, one traveler said feverishly before collapsing. His last words: "They have gone underground. Look to the barren wasteland of Michigan." Impossible, I muttered, as this region was long thought to be uninhabitable, cooked to a crisp after the nukes had done their worst.

Having heard good enough of these annoying anecdotes, my apprentice and I ventured forward into the vast unknown to find out whether this congress of baked mages was one of myth or of mischief. With cloak, staff, and Geiger counter in hand, we set out for the Forbidden Zone. As we crossed its borders, we begin to pick up on the trail of blunts and faint wi-fi signals. We did cross paths with Wild Savages and broke bread with Bubak, Blue Snaggletooth, and the Bison Machine. We did ride the Cavalcade to the dank steps of the Temple Of The Fuzz Witch, where we were compelled to partake in the bizarre Stone Ritual.

This unlikely fellowship with barbarian hordes led us ever closer to the fabled irradiated thaumaturges. It was said that after the blast, they had become both one and many and that these diviners could, through their strange alchemy, compel rocks to roll until they were transformed into an altogether different substance, something the smiths were wont to call "heavy metal." An enchanted guild had become responsible for crafting this heavy metal. They called themselves the WIZARD UNION.

Notes stealthily changed hands, leading us to close associates of this Wizard Union, both present and past. With care, I crossed the Laserbeams Of Boredom, walked over the husked remains of Lizerrd and Lord Centipede, followed the scent of Bladder and Verminous Scum. Nearer, still nearer, until my companion and I chanced upon the Wizard Union's lair.

There, my eyes could scarce believe, lay the very manuals of the Wizard Union containing the secrets of their magick. I tore eagerly through them, from 'Smoking Coffins' (2014) to 'Phantom Fury' (2016), finally partaking of the 'Ceremonial Smoke' (2017) itself. My eager apprentice could bear it no more and excitedly ventured forth into the cavernous dwelling of the Wizard Union in hopes of speaking with them. Meanwhile, I sent word to the skies by way of my trusty raven, declaring with a shriek: "Our brothers yet live in the frigid armpit of America!"

Art by Unexpected Spector

Part II: Knock & The Door Shall Be Opened

Interview by Shawn Gibson

Today, we're visiting with Samir Asfahani of the band Wizard Union from the Ann Arbor, Michigan area. Samir, maybe start by telling us who all is in Wizard Union and the album you just released, 'Ceremonial Smoke.'

Sure, sure. We have me on guitar and main vocals, Aaron (or "A Ron" as we like to call him) on bass and backup vocals, and there's Larry on drums. Though A Ron didn't record vocals on this particular record, we had special contribution from sound engineer JC and his girlfriend Lindsay, who recorded the special effects you hear in the album's title track.

You guys have a really good stoner-sludge sound -- vocals are harsh as hell.

Yeah, even though I run the Super Dank Metal Jams blog and my co-writer, Brandon, covers a lot of the doom and stoner stuff, I've kind of stuck with the sludge and now into more grindcore and death metal stuff. In Wizard Union's last album, Phantom Fury, we were experimenting more with hardcore-punk type vocals, and then things progressed from there. I approached the guys and said, "Hey, would you mind if I did it this way, to add something new to the mix? I'm not saying we need to tweak anything else at the moment, but this is kind of what I'm into." They said, "Yeah, go for it!" Anything to make us a little different or even just to be a little weird is good.

It's certainly refreshing for the genre, whether it's straight-up doom or some death, black, grind, or sludge combo. Really heavy, crazy shit turns me on! Go for different, go for unique, because far too many bands sound the same.

I don't really fault bands for that, though. When we started out, we definitely were just like, "Let's play slow and heavy music. This is the stuff we know and like." From there, we spent a lot of time exploring whatever we happened to be into at the time. I dropped the idea of having more of a collective, which is kind of developing into its own record label now. We're going to be dropping a lot of stuff that encompasses side projects, not being anything Wizard Union-related.

Going back to not faulting bands, you start out with what you like. It might be knocking off like, Electric Wizard, Sleep, or Sabbath. I think from there, you're there three or four albums in, you kind of have to make a choice and ask yourself if that's what you want to be, just a knock off band or do your own thing and find your own sound. We're still exploring that. Our last jam on Sunday, we were playing what sounded more along the lines of "Give Me That Amulet, You Witch!" I don't know if in the future we're going to have a regular release, then a companion release with more stuff like that to follow it up. You get two different sides of Wizard Union there, so we'll see!

I've been digging a lot of Konvent, Cavurn, and Spectral Voice, so it's awesome to hear what you've been doing with those Wizard Union vocals.

Yeah, I really like the death doom lately, definitely more old school sound, not anything super technical. On top of that, I'm not a technical player. I don't know too many bands that mix the death, doom, and sludge thing. That's something I wanted to explore more. There's definitely more bands out there that mix grind and sludge, I've been digging more of that. That's probably where many of my side projects will go once they've picked up steam.

Yeah, I'm really into Dragged Into Sunlight, Clinging To The Trees Of A Forest Fire, bands that like to blend grind and sludge, playing heavy and fast.

I don't think we'll get there with Wizard Union. I have Verminous Scum, a project with Clay, the drummer from Mutalatred out of Toledo. So there's a lot of blasts on that coming up, whenever we get our first recording mixed. It's a little like if Wizard Union had blast beats; it still has that core sound to it. That's what I've posted lately on my blog.

You've been involved in the heavy scene around Ann Arbor for a while now, haven't you?

We've been playing shows with bands from the Ann Arbor/Ypsilanti area. Ypsilanti, for people who aren't familiar with the area, is the next city over from Ann Arbor and that's where Eastern Michigan University is. It's kind of like a shared area almost. Because of Ann Arbor being gentrified, you're seeing the price of things going up and a lot of people are moving out of Ann Arbor to buy houses in Ypsilanti, especially artists. We usually play in Ypsi. I actually used to be in a band called Lord Centipede. We put out a vinyl called Centipede Up Your Ass. It's a kind of doom-tinged stoner-hardcore-thrash album, came out in 2012 or 2013. After we broke up, it just kind of sat there. I decided I wanted to do something with it, put it out again -- it will be up for download as soon as it's done mixing. Now the drummer is in a new band we've just booked a show with, called Bubak.

Cool!

Then there's Temple Of The Fuzz Witch, a Detroit band we're playing with, as well. There's Wild Savages, not really a doom band but they've got that stoner vibe, as does Bison Machine. There's Stone Ritual, those guys are pretty good. Cavalcade is a band out of Lansing we liked playing with recently. There's Blind Haven, who play the Toledo area -- they're really good. There’s Hung From The Rising Sun out of Northern Ohio. Those guys also play in the noise rock band Wax. I don't want to miss anybody on this. I know some people will get upset if I do! (laughs) Anybody we played with, if I didn't mention you, you're awesome!

Phantom Fury by Wizard Union

So you edit Super Dank Metal Jams and you’ve organized the Burnout Society Film Club, as well?

I started the Burnout Society Film Club on a suggestion from Joe Eldridge from Shade Beast Records. We were talking about cult films and he said, "Oh, yeah! Somebody should start a group about this." I was like, "Shit, I'll do it right now!" I immediately thought of a random name that had the initials "B.S." so Burnout Society was born and it's actually becoming more of a real life thing, not just something on the internet. It's turned into a local group in Ann Arbor. We have movie nights and just chat about film.

Nice!

We screen movies and it's usually themed. The first movie night was The Wild Life (1984) with Chris Penn, Sean Penn's brother, and Eric Stoltz. It was kind of made by the people who made Fast Times At Ridgemont High (1982). The theme of the night was films that are still stuck on VHS. That was a film that was obscure; a lot of people didn't know about it. Then we watched another film, Dudes (1987) , that hasn't made it to DVD or Blu-ray. For whatever reason, they’re kind of like obscure, even though they're good movies, so I thought it'd be a cool first movie night. The second event we held was holiday themed: we had Black Christmas (1974) and The Star Wars Holiday Special (1978).

Star Wars holiday Special that was a rare thing.

We had a bootleg copy we were watching and it had the original commercials that aired, which were probably more entertaining than the Star Wars Holiday Special itself! (laughs) The next one I think is going to be Bigfoot themed. We're also going to do an actual screening at a bar for a film that's been passed on to us that we'd like to show people. We'd like to do public screenings for DIY filmmakers whenever possible.

We are all into the cult movies -- weird, strange movies. I've always been into 'em. I think it really took off when I was working at a Hollywood Video in high school.

Lucky!

Yeah! You got three movie rentals at a time. I'd just grab whatever I could find. It didn't take long before I started getting into Troma movies.

Lloyd Kaufman! Man's a fucking genius.

Have you ever met him?

Not yet, I bet that's wild.

I've met him three times.

So what's Lloyd Kaufman like?

He's really weird. He's really eccentric. He was really cool, too. Around the time that I met him the first time, he was showing Citizen Toxie (2000) in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I volunteered to be Toxie at those events. (laughs) Have a friend who volunteered to be the Noxious Offender from Citizen Toxie, but we hadn't seen the movie yet, so we had no idea what we're getting into. Lloyd gave me a screener copy and was like, "Here, just watch it before you come out or whatever." I remember my friend and I were at my parents’ house watching it until 3 am, just laughing. My parents woke up screaming at us, "Be quiet!" (laughs)

That's awesome! I got started with The Toxic Avenger (1984). I'd get my grandma to take me to the video store and I could rent anything, she didn't check. We got back home and I started to play it around 8 pm. My grandma walked in on the locker room scene with topless women. "Nope, nope, nope!" she said. I was like, "Goddammit!" So I waited until midnight or so, snuck out of bed, and watched the rest of the movie.

Shame on you! (laughs)

Then I rented that Class of Nuke 'Em High (1986) , Sgt. Kabukiman N.Y.P.D. (1990) , and other Troma flicks.

I feel you on watching The Toxic Avenger while you're young. I was a product of the times, when they were pushing R rated movies onto kids by making them cartoons. There was a Rambo cartoon, as well as a Robocop, Toxic Crusader, and Police Academy cartoon. The original Police Academy, remember, was rated R.

Right.

I recall being three or four years old and watching the Rambo cartoon and just begging my mom, "I know there's a movie based off of this -- you've got to let me see it!" I remember how devastated I was when I brought it to her at the video store and she was like, "No, you can’t get that, it's rated R!" It was the same thing with The Toxic Avenger. I was like, "This was a movie? Oh my god, I've got to see it now!" So then, a couple years later, I go and find it -- same thing. One night I was able to persuade my mom to let me watch The Toxic Avenger: Part II (1989). That finally happened and then I realized somehow it was connected to Class of Nuke 'Em High, just like looking at the covers. It wasn't until years later that I realized what Troma even was. They used to have those marathons on the USA Network.

I remember them well!

I know they had the Up All Night series, where they'd play all the movies -- Nuke 'Em High 1, 2, 3, and what not. They did a Toxic Avenger marathon during the day -- it was the weirdest thing. I don't know of any other time where this happened, it was a rare moment for USA, sometime in the mid-'90s, so I got to watch all three back-to-back.

Smoking Coffins by Wizard Union

What's a damned good book you've read lately?

See, the thing is I only read non-fiction.

Me, too.

Last fictional book I read was Ready Player One (2011). As far as fiction goes, I would recommend that totally. Anybody who wants to go see the movie, Spielberg is directing it. The premise takes place in a dystopian future, where everyone's doing this virtual reality thing. It’s not unlike Facebook, if Facebook was VR. Every bit of information comes to you in VR format -- movies, stuff like that. Everybody’s creating avatars for themselves to portray TV and film stars. That'll be cool translated on the screen. From what I've seen of the trailer, unfortunately, it's not going to be as literal as the book. The fact is it's being put out by Warner Brothers and Amblin. I think whatever properties those two production companies own is probably what you're more likely to see on screen. There are plenty of obscure references made in the book, though. It's a very entertaining read. As far as non-fiction, I recommend The Disaster Artist (2013).

Cool. I've seen the trailers for the movie. I didn't know it was a book as well.

Yeah, that's what it's based on. I do most of my "reading" through Audible. It's one thing I've learned, to be more productive, is actually listen to audiobooks if you can versus wondering, "When am I going to have time to read, anymore?" I got an Audible account and started doing books that way. I get through two books in like a month. I don't feel bad about it, I still read what I need to -- blogs, articles, and stuff like that. The one physical book I'm reading at the moment is The Tao Of Bill Murray (2016), which I got my wife. That's a really entertaining book.

I bet. I love Bill Murray!

Trying to think of one more book -- a random one -- it's All Your Worth: The Ultimate Lifetime Money Plan (2005) from Elizabeth Warren and her daughter, Amelia. I'd recommend that to anyone who's having financial issues or trying to figure out how to get their financial troubles back together. I think after going through that book I was like, "If she ran for president, I'd 100% vote for her." She could get this country back on track. (laughs) If she's able to get the middle class to figure out their finances there has to be a way. She's got a plan! (laughs)

I’m not too confident in the one we have in office now. I don't think he's made it so great again. I don't think it was great in the first place. Just my opinion.

Well, I'm not going to go into that, just for starting a comment thread about who's on whose side. I'm sure that readers can figure out where we align politically. I feel like when Cheeto came into office, there were a lot of people who felt like this'll make music great again or whatever. It'll make people angry again. I haven't really noticed much of that. (laughs) There's always been angry music; there's always been politically charged music. Whatever gets you motivated to create, go for it, you know? That's one thing I want to encourage people, that's what I push myself to do. Everything I do is to create, to keep going and make more whatever it is and not to question yourself or hold yourself back. That's why I do the blogs. Burnout Film Society is going to starting a blog soon, with reviews for movies.

Cool.

The members of Burnout Film Society are all people that, as far as I know, haven't written for a blog before. I want to show people that you don't have to write for something. If you love something, if you have a passion for it, obviously you know what to say.

It exudes!

That's what it was for me when I wrote Dank Metal Jams. I thought, "If I were in a band, I'd want someone to write a review for me." Not that I'm doing these guys a favor, but I truly want the people to listen to their music! I'm going to write what I think about an album and just put it out there. Hopefully, I can get some other people on board that feel the same and agree, "Yeah you're right!" That's the only reason I have the blog around. It gives me something to do, while constantly introducing me to new music. It keeps me open to new ideas and fuels my creativity, especially when it comes to song writing. "Oh I can do it this way, I didn't even think about that way, or I can mix this with that."

What’s in the crystal ball for Wizard Union this year?

We've been around, this is going to be our sixth year now, and we're still kicking! We know we're not quitting anytime soon and we've got more ideas we want to put out there. I have another kind of stoner side-project I'm working on that doesn't have a name yet. It's me and Aaron, the bass player. Actually, we switched it up -- I'm doing bass and he's doing guitar. Then we have a local drummer who is in a one-man band called Laserbeams Of Boredom. We're working on that and finish recording in early spring. We still haven't settled on a name for that one, either. I don't want to drop any names or suggestions yet before it happens. I don't know if it will be out by the end of this year or the beginning of next year, but it's definitely something we're working on right now.

Samir, thanks a lot!

Oh yeah, thank you!

Follow The Band.

Get Their Music.

[herecomesnaya]

you know, in the shower, I started thinking about this website and having some Shower Thoughts(TM) about internet safety as a whole, and how much better a place the internet is than it was even a little over a decade ago. safety-wise and convenience-wise.

back when I started using the internet, YouTube didn’t exist. if you wanted to listen to music, you had to haul your ass over to Yahoo Music and watch the video. if it didn’t have a video, or if you wanted to own the song without paying for the album? you download Limewire and hope to heck you’re actually downloading Britney Spears - Lucky.mp3 and not some virus that’d skullfuck your whole system. sometimes you’d get the actual song, but with some digitally-added person saying “Music - ON demand!” every minute and fifteen seconds, and you just had to deal with it.

and if you wanted to watch funny videos? you went to Ebaumsworld, or Funnyjunk, or Newgrounds, and watched them using Flash, and hoped that whatever you were about to see was actually what it claimed to be. does anyone remember that Flash video about the cute little strawberry who would go on to shriek and swear up a storm until its cartoon baby companion started wailing? that was OG Elsagate right there.

and screamers were all the rage. there was no central site to say “hey, this video/game/animation that’s being passed around is a screamer, so avoid it if you don’t like those things.” every new video you clicked, you watched 5 feet away from the computer with your hands cupped over your ears if it seemed suspiciously pleasant. you have anxiety? fuck you! epilepsy? fuck you! a normal, human, deep-seated fear of disfigured corpse faces and sudden loud noises? fuck you! the internet delighted at your torment.

not to mention, it was just a pain in the ass to navigate at all. you got the virus protection software your computer came with — McAfee, probably — and no adblock. you just had to deal with the occasional pop-up that bounced around the screen, singing “YOU ARE AN IDIOT” and literally laughing at you as you chased it around with your mouse, trying to close it without clicking inside the box and redirecting you to a malware-infested hellpit of a site. ads for new animated emotes and colorful talking desktop buddies tempted children and adults alike, until Internet Explorer had 15 extra toolbars and your computer tower wheezed for death with every pitiful sputter of its overworked fan.

want to talk to someone? find a geocities fansite, or a forum. how do you find one? well, you can try a search engine, or you can go onto the AOL chat rooms and try and scope out people with similar interests. chat rooms which, by the way, came with easy links to the 18+ rooms, with no age verification necessary. a few clicks, and you were in with the Mature People, getting 5 private messages a minute from people named BigDickDaddy and chatwu6969 asking for your ASL. getting harassed? fuck you! they can just come right back in with a different display name.

back then, there was no automatic 18+ filtering, no warnings for sensitive content, no support for people’s triggers built into a site’s functionality. you heeded the warnings (IF the content creator was kind enough to post some), or you played a risky game of click-a-link and hoped you didn’t stumble across Goatse or Lemon Party this time. if you got offended, even by the most heinous things like IRL rape or pedophilia, you were laughed at, told to suck it up, had your breakdown posted on 4chan until a bunch of bored trolls found your home phone number and decided to flood it with cruel prank calls.

I hate to be all “kids these days,” but kids these days truly won’t know what it’s like to try and navigate an internet barren of pretty much every staple we have today. there was no looking someone’s name up on Facebook to confirm they were who they said they were; no block/report/spam buttons on everyone’s usernames; not even any fucking lyric videos for your favorite songs. it was truly the Wild West of the internet, a lawless wasteland filled with terrible people and tricks waiting for you at every turn.

so sure, websites today aren’t perfect. we shouldn’t stop trying to improve them. but you have so many ways to protect yourself from seeing things you don’t want to see nowadays, and you really shouldn’t take them for granted. turn on 18+ filters. blacklist tags. block people you can’t stand. friend and follow only people you trust, who post content you like. you have the power to tailor your internet experience to your personal tastes. use that power in every way possible, THEN find the flaws in the system and work to fix those. don’t just complain because you went into a fandom tag without blocking a ship name and had your poor eyes assaulted by, GASP, content for that ship.

this has been your Long Mostly-Pointless Ramble of the Day, thanks for stopping by

[jolienjoyswriting]

Mortem In Contumeliam, Ch. XII

Chapter 12 of "Mortem In Contumeliam Final Fantasy VI," a Final Fantasy VI fan fiction story.

Because of what happened a couple of chapters prior, I felt like it was only right for certain characters to interact a little more.  I know this is far from redemption for them… but, I think it's a pretty decent conclusion to a side-plot.

Word count: 3,963 – Character count: 22,456 Originally written: July 27th, 2019

A simple tour of the world's only airship turns into a soul-cleansing experience for those involved.

Final Fantasy VI, Wedge, Biggs, and related characters, scenarios, and properties created by Square Soft, Inc. and © Square Enix Co, Ltd.

[ ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → ]

    The feeling on the Blackjack airship was tense.  It didn’t feel right, leaving Samasa Village to fend for itself… but, with the Empire already so far ahead of the Returners and having so much power… it would have been worse for the world not to chase after them!  So, as the owner of the airship set a course for the Vector continent, everyone onboard prepared for what they hoped would be the final confrontation…

    “By this point,” King Edgar Figaro told the group as they surrounded a blackjack table in the main room, “Gestahl and Kefka are probably a well ahead of us.  If Kefka has as much power as our soldier friend–”     “Ex-soldier,” Wedge corrected as he leaned against a wall with his arms crossed.     “If he has as much power as our ex-soldier friend says,” the king repeated, adjusting his words, “there’s a chance that he may be able to blast through that landslide and open the gates to the Eidolon’s World.  But, other than more Eidolons… what could they be looking for?”     “The Warring Triad…”     Eleven sets of eyes focused on the old man who stood directly across from Edgar.

    “Hang on…”  Lock walked over from the right-hand window before asking, “I thought we already found ‘em in that cave?”     “As rife with magic as those statues were…”  Stragos looked down at the floor.  “Those were simply a shrine made to honor the actual gods.”     “So, what?  You’re saying that the Warring Triad is somewhere in the Eidolon’s World?”     “It’s entirely possible.”  He looked up and over at Lock.  “The gods are said to be the creators of all, as I’ve mentioned – including Eidolons.  It’s possible… no, it’s very likely… that they may be hidden away in their world, somewhere.

    “According to legends… three gods descended from the heavens and created life.  However, they quickly became distrustful of one another and, fearing the power of each other, began a war.  As they warred, some of the begins that strayed into their paths were conscripted… forever changed.  These mortals were stripped of their ability to think for themselves… but infused with great magical power to become the Eidolons we know, today.  And, it was these Eidolons who were forced to fight the Triad’s Great Magic War for them…”     Wedge looked across the room.  Tina seemed especially upset at hearing that…

    “The fighting continued from there… man-fighting-man, Eidolon-fighting-Eidolon…  But, as things escalated, the Warring Triad began to take notice of what their war was doing to the planet.  Once-beautiful, lush plains had become harsh, rocky wastelands…  Mountains, previously tall-and-proud, had been reduced to rubble!  Bodies of water became barren deserts, magma wells sprung up in places that were once calm and serene…  Worst of all, the population of the planet had taken irrevocable losses!     “After the gods realized what their war was doing to the people they loved and the planet they forged, they finally came to an agreement: they would seal away their power and leave humanity to recover.  Once they had made their choice, they returned the Eidolons’ free will and turned themselves to stone with these last words:     “‘The damage we have done is great, but the guilt in our hearts, greater.  For our heinous actions, we will slumber for eternity, never to be woken.  Heed our words, lest history be repeated.’”

    Stragos closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head.  It seemed like he needed a minute to recover from the heaviness of what he’d told everyone.     “So… what happened next?” the treasure-hunting man asked.     “Well…” the elderly man continued, “after the war, the Eidolons fled the ruined world to create a new realm for themselves.  According to the legends of my ancestors… they took the Warring Triad’s petrified remains with them.  Even imprisoned in stone seals of their creation, the three gods were dangerous…  Even dormant, their power exceeded that of even the greatest of their creations… so, the Eidolons placed them in a delicate balance.  It was said… should the Triad ever be moved from this balance… a great catastrophe would befall man-and-beast.”     He paused before looking up with a grim expression.     “I surmise that it could mean the end of the world as we know it, should that happen…”

    There was a long period of silence as everyone in that room took in the elder’s words.  They all knew that the Empire, having so much power, could do no good to the cities and people of the world… but, they had no idea that one mistake could possibly destroy the entire planet!     “Well, since the world’s comin’ to an end,” Lilum suddenly started, “can Lilum stay up past sundown?”     Stragos gave the girl a blank stare before giving her a very-flat “What.”     “All the cool stuff happens at night!” she explained.  “Lilum wants a piece’a that action!”     “This is hardly the time for jokes, but…”     He finally cracked a smile as he ruffled her hair through her beret.     “Bless you for having your mother’s spirit, little Lilum…”     “I’m not that little!” she laughed as she ducked away.  “I’m very mature, for my age!”     Edgar uncomfortably shifted, tugging at his collar… but, no one seemed to notice.     “Some would say that you grew up a little too fast,” her grandfather said with a chuckle.  “I just wish I knew where you got it from.”     “My mom’s side!  Duh!”

    That completely random exchange between the child and her grandfather worked its magic, considerably easing the tension in the room.  Before long, everyone returned to idling and chatting as the airship continued to cut a path across the sky and onto Vector.  But, as everyone conversed and new faces met with old… Wedge couldn’t help but notice that one of their group of twelve had gone missing.  And, it just so happened to be the one person he wanted to talk to.

    “Hey, Setzer?”     “You can call me ‘Mister Gabbani,’ friend,” the white-haired nobleman told him as he turned around and leaned against his blackjack table.     “Sorry.”  Wedge cleared his throat.  “Mister Gabbani, would you mind if I explored the ship, a little?  I know I just got here, but–”     “If you do anything to harm my baby,” the man interrupted, wearing a serious expression, “I will throw you overboard.  And, considering how high up we are, well…”     “No, I won’t hurt your ‘baby,’”  He sighed.  “I’ve just never been on an airship, before, so I wanna look around.”     Setzer narrowed his eyes… then, he gave a silent nod before turning back to the table.  The ex-soldier took that as a signal to wander off and explore.

    The first place Wedge went was up to the stairs at the rear of the room which led from the meeting room to what looked like a casino…  He had noticed that theme in the airship, but it wasn’t until he walked down into the literal “casino pit” that he gave it much thought.     As expected of an airship called “The Blackjack,” there were two more card tables seated to his left, both facing the windows and separated by a comfortable-looking, somewhat-gaudy lounge chair of some sort.  To his right was a long table with a series of numbered squares and a matching wheel next to that.  He recognized the setup as a roulette table – not something he enjoyed, himself, but to each their own.  There was yet another blackjack table in a room at the far end of the area.  He thought it was the “high rollers” table… but, if that were the case, then what was that table one floor down used for?  Considering that he’d just seen it used for a meeting, he had to assume that to be the case.

    Before long, the ex-soldier had made his way back up from the pit and climbed up the ladder directly across from the upper stairwell.  He wasn’t the least bit surprised to see a deck with some controls – which were being manned by a man in a red cap – but, he was quick to climb back down.  The soldier was never a fan of heights…     Returning to the meeting room, he walked by the group and headed toward a door that was off to the side… only to be stopped by Setzer, himself.     “Where do you think you’re going?” the airship’s owner impatiently asked.     “Um… through that door?” was Wedge’s natural reply.     “No, you’re not.”  The well-dressed man crossed his arms before explaining, “This leads to the main engine room.  You’re not going in there unescorted.”     “Why not?”     “Gee, let me think…”     He gave the man a look from-head-to-toe.     “Maybe, because you’re an Imperial soldier?”     “I’m not an Imperial soldier, anymore!  I mean… okay,” the self-named ex-soldier started, “officially?  Yeah, I’m still with the Empire.  But, once you guys stop this ‘earth-shattering’ thing from happening, I–”     “Hey, Lock!”

    Setzer had called out so suddenly, it startled the man in orange-red armor.  Not a second later…     “Yeah?”     He found himself in the company of someone who, last time he checked, didn’t like him.

    “This soldier–”     “Ex-soldier!” Wedge corrected.     “This soldier…” the nobleman firmly emphasized, “wants to look around the engine room.  Would you mind keeping an eye on him?”     “I guess not.”  Lock shrugged, then he said, “C’mon, soldier boy.”     The other man scowled as he was escorted beyond the doorway by the treasure hunter.  He didn’t care for that guy… but, at least his curiosity would be satiated.

    Just like the owner had said, on the other side of the door was a room that was filled with gears, mechanisms, and a literal ton of machinery.  Wedge was kind of impressed with what he saw, but he was a little surprised by how familiar it looked.     “I could swear…” he said over the clatter of devices, “Doctor Cid was working on something like this.  In fact, I think the spire of the Imperial Castle has some clockwork in it, too!  Gotta move those crane arms somehow.  Be… fore you guys broke ‘em, I mean.  Heh…”     Lock crossed his arms, giving an impatient look.  He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, just then.     “Satisfied?” he asked in a somewhat snarky tone.     “Hey, what’s back there?”     They both looked across the way.  There was an opening at the rear-left from the doorway, and it seemed to lead somewhere…     “Dunno,” the treasure hunter said with a sigh.  “Ready to head back?”     “Hang on…”     Wedge took a couple of steps across a narrow bridge between the pits of noisy machinery.  As he took a third step…     “Nope.”     Lock leaped in front of him, blocking his progress.

    “Come with me!” the ex-soldier suggested with a friendly smile.  “I bet you’re as curious about that hallway as I am!”     “Look, I know what’s back there,” the other man explained.  “I was just hoping you’d believe me and lose interest.”     “Well… what is back there?” Wedge asked.     “A room.”     “What’s in the room?”     “A sofa, some chairs, and more machinery.”     “Lock…”  He frowned, putting his hands on his hips.  “Why don’t you want me to go back there?  I have no intention of sabotaging the airship.  Hell, I’m trying my hardest to pretend I’m not even here!  So, why not let be stay out of everyone’s hair and explore?”     He gave a couple of blinks as Lock stepped forward, looking him in the eye right through his goggles.

    “I don’t trust you,” was the young man’s answer.  “I don’t trust any of you Empire dopes.  But, I especially don’t trust you.”     “Well… aside from the obvious stuff,” Wedge started with a grin, “why not?”     “I noticed how you keep lookin’ at Tina… how much you look at her, how you look at her, et cetera.”  He scowled as he told the ex-soldier, “I made a promise to that girl… to my friend… that I’d protect her.”     He slowly looked away…     “I… haven’t done a great job, so far…  But!”     Not long after, his head whipped back toward Wedge.     “If I can keep her safe from someone like you, then I’m damn well gonna!”     “So, you’re thinking Tina wandered into the back, huh?”     “Yeah, and you’re not going to bother her!  She wants to be left alone!”

    Wedge just continued to smile as he stood there, watching the other man impede his progress.  For some reason, seeing someone as dedicated to protecting someone like Tina kind of amused him.  Someone as powerful as Tina certainly didn’t need protection, but Lock seemed like the “fiercely-loyal” type.  However…     “Scoot.”     He was otherwise unmoved.

    “Get back!” Lock snapped, taking a retreating hop and drawing a pair of sharp-looking dirks.  Wedge had gotten a little too close.     “You’re going to attack me?  Just because I wanna check on Tina?  Well, and see what’s in the other room, too,” he added with a chuckle.     “Yes.”  The treasure hunter scowled, narrowing his eyes.  “Leave.”     “Look, Lock… I’m not gonna fight you.  Even if I had a weapon, I wouldn’t fight you!”     There was a brief pause before he asked, “Why not?”     “Well, number one… I’m pretty sure Setzer would toss me off the ship if I did anything to anyone on board.  Number two, I really don’t have any beef with you.  In fact, I think you’re kind of interesting!”     For some reason, that just made Lock scowl even deeper.     “And, number three…?”  Wedge sighed…  “Tina likes you.  So, even if one and two weren’t on my mind, I’d stop cold at number three.”     He offered another smile.     “Any friend of Tina’s is a friend of mine… and, I’d never do anything to hurt a friend.  You know?”

    Silence, peppered by the clank and whirr of gears and wheels, filled the room.  Lock must have stood at the other end of that walkway for a good minute… before he put his weapons away and took a more relaxed pose.     “You… really wanna see what’s in the other room?” he asked.     When Wedge gave a nod, he gave a labored sigh… then, he gestured for the other man to follow.  Not long after, they were in the out-of-the-way room at the back of the airship.

    “Man… there’s not a single window in this room, is there?”     Just like Lock had described, the room was pretty plain.  The area nearest to them had dark-and-light tiles on the floor, as well as a trio of chairs and another colorful lounge chair.  To their forward-right was another pit with more machinery – though, unlike the main engine room, it was surrounded by a handrail.  But, on top of those few things, there were a couple more things of note to be seen…     “Oh, hello.”     Standing near the rail-protected opening was the familiar figure of Tina Branford, the sweet, innocent, and… to Wedge’s mind… cute blond girl who just happened to be half-Eidolon.  Standing behind her, however, was another girl.     “H… hi…”     Celes Chere, former general of the Imperial Army, waved to the two newcomers, seeming particularly nervous about seeing at least one of them.  She was physically attractive, but due to some… less-than-intelligent actions on her part… Wedge wanted nothing to do with her.  Plus, her usual, strict personality wasn’t nearly as charming as Tina’s.

    “Celes…?”  Lock walked ahead of Wedge, giving the woman a curious look.  “How’d you get in here?  No, when did you–”     “I noticed Tina leave while Stragos was talking and got worried…  Um…”  She squirmed before awkwardly asking, “What– what’s up?”     “Cheese Wedge wanted a tour of the airship,” the treasure hunter casually said with a shrug and a grin.  “Didn’t think we’d find anyone back here.”     Wedge knew that was a lie, but he didn’t bother correcting Lock.     “Oh, well, I-I was just leaving!” Celes suddenly said before speedily walking toward the door.  But, when she was just about to make good on her words…     “Hold it.”     It was Wedge, oddly enough, who stopped her.

    “Y… yes, Wedge?” Celes nervously asked, unsure of what to expect.     The former soldier pulled his goggles up, making sure the woman could see him narrow his eyes and glare.  When she gave another uncomfortable squirm and looked away, he decided to tell her… exactly… what was on his mind.

    “I owe you an apology.”

    The former general blinked hard, staring with wide eyes as Wedge looked to the side.  Lock tilted his head as he and Tina watched and listened, both curious as to where the conversation was going.

    “Y-you don’t owe me anything…” was the next thing to fall out of Celes’ mouth.  Before she could look away, herself… Wedge gave her a nudge, prompting her to look up.     “Let’s get one thing straight: I still don’t like you.  Actually, I’m pretty sure I hate you!”     At that, Lock took a step forward… only to stop.  When he looked back, Tina was holding his arm and shaking her head.  Despite his urge to intervene… he heeded his friend’s wordless suggestion and stayed where he was.     “But… either Kefka was just screwing with me, or…”  The ex-soldier sighed before giving a somewhat-begrudging sort of smile.  “You were right about Biggs.”     “I… don’t understand?”  She hesitated before asking him, “Please, explain?”     “Okay, so…  When Kefka was going batsh–”  He paused, suddenly remembering that Tina was in the room.  “Ah… bat-flap-crazy… he said something.  He said that Biggs had been ‘quite the diligent little lackey,’ or something like that.  He said that it was Biggs who gave the Empire the secrets to Magicite.  I’m… still not sure how he managed to figure that one out…”     He scratched the back of his head.     “But, unless Kefka was lying… it seems like… yeah.  I owe you an apology.  And, if he wasn’t lying, then I guess there’s a possibility that Biggs… did do something to deserve…”     He paused to think.     “No.  No, he didn’t deserve to die.  Even if he was secretly working for Kefka… what you did was wrong and I’ll never forgive you!  I mean, what the hell could he have possibly said to make you kill him?”     “Wait… what’s this about?  Who killed who?”

    Celes looked behind her.  Tina was staring with her hands over her mouth, looking a little surprised.  Lock, however, was walking over.  Almost immediately, she turned away, trying to hide from both her friend and the former soldier…     “Celes…?”  The bandanna-wearing man frowned as he asked, “What, exactly, happened on G.T. Island…?”     “Yes, General,” Wedge called with an attitude, “what did happen?  Why don’t you tell them, hmm?”     She hesitated for a long while… but, eventually, she told everyone listening exactly what happened between her and Biggs.

    “Biggs was the one who reported you…?”     She gave a nod, keeping her eyes shut tight, trying not to let her emotions overcome her.     “And… he hated you?  He really said that?”     She gave another nod, refusing to say a word more.     “Then… yeah.  I guess I really was wrong about him.”

    Wedge sighed before looking down at the tiles.  He had no idea that Biggs had such an intense hatred of General Chere… one that would make him throw his life away just add to her strife.  His friend never said a word about disliking the general, much less hating her…  And, as he stood there, thinking about it… he started to wonder what else he never knew about his best friend…

    “I… don’t hate you,” the man quietly said after the longest time.     “I… I’d hate me…” Celes meekly responded.     “I hate what you’ve done,” he clarified, “but… it’s pointless to hate you.  You were just… dealt a bad hand.  And, hey… we all make mistakes.  Right?”     The woman finally opened her eyes and looked at Wedge.  He was still smiling… though, it looked forced.  He wasn’t fooling anyone but, she had to admit to herself… it was nice of him to try not to hate her.  Even if it was pointless…

    “What I’ve done is unjustifiable,” she told the former soldier with a firm tone, “and, were I still committed to the Empire… I would confess to my crime and accept my sentence without question.”     “Celes…” Lock whispered with a deeply-concerned expression.     “I… was an Imperial general.  But, evil is evil.  Still…”     She paused before looking right at Wedge.     “I don’t want your forgiveness,” she continued.  “I don’t want your friendship.  All I want is to stay out of your way, when and where I can.”     She gave Wedge a chance to say something.  When he didn’t… she kept going.     “I’m… sorry for what I’ve done, but thank you for allowing me to explain myself and to tell you the whole story.  Now, I would like to rejoin our companions, if I may.”

    Without so much as a nod, Wedge stepped aside.  Not long after, Celes left… as did Lock.  It was pretty obvious where his priorities were.  But, as he left… the other woman walked over to where the former soldier was.  And, with nothing more than a soulful look… she threw her arms around him in a tight hug, just like she had much earlier that day.

    It took a few moments for Wedge to recover from what he’d been told.  It had numbed him to the core and he entirely wasn’t sure what to do or where to go, from there.  Once he was finally able to feel, again… he pulled away, walking over to the furniture before collapsing onto it with his arms between his legs and head hung low.     “Mister Wedge?” Tina called as she sat next to him.  “Are you okay?”     She knew he wasn’t, but her compassionate nature drew the question outward.     “You know, it’s funny…”     The girl perked.  Her friend had slowly lifted his head… only to look straight up and rest it against the wooden frame of the seat.     “What is?” she politely asked.     There was a long pause before he told her, “Life.”

    He, honestly, couldn’t think of anything else to tell her.  Between what had happened in Samasa, hearing that old man all but tell everyone that “the end was nigh,” then finding out that his best friend… the person he’d been closest to in life… actually harbored a deep resentment toward someone he, himself, kind of respected and was working for Kefka, who seemed under secret orders from the Emperor, himself…  Well, it kind of threw his view of things into a tailspin!  The only thing he firmly was sure of, at that point, was that he wanted out of the Imperial Army and he wanted to get as far away from everything as possible…

    “Ow… ah–!”     He gave a couple of blinks, then looked to his side.  Tina was wincing.     “Tina?” he called, suddenly finding his focus.  “Are you–”     He went wide-eyed.  Tina had grabbed him by his armor and was looking at him with bright, terrified eyes.     “S… something’s wrong– Wedge…  The earth… i-it’s crying out…  The… the island…!!”     “Wh… what is–”     But, before he could answer…     “All hands on deck!!  This is not an emergency!!”     A voice boomed over some hidden speaker within the room.  A second later, Tina yanked him off his seat, pulled him through the engine and meeting rooms, and ended up practically flying with him as they arrived at the top-most floor of the airship.  It was there… that they saw it.

    “The island…” Tina called as she looked up at a colossal shadow looming overhead.  “I… I was right…  Oh, no…”     “What the hell is that thing?!” Wedge shouted without thinking.     “I know what it is…”     He, Tina, and everyone who had headed topside stared at Stragos.  He sounded afraid.

    “Wh… what is it…?” the former soldier quietly asked.     There was a long pause before the old mage told them all…

    “The beginning of of the end…”

[mariestherapeutics]

Hey guys, I forgot to mention that I wasn’t gonna post any stories until the votes were all sent in lol. I’ll go another day and make my call then. ^^ In the mean time, here’s a dream I had last night!

Giselle - A classmate I had in middle school

Jordan - A classmate I had last year

Ben - My little brother

"Honey, try turning a bit," Dad says cautiously to Giselle. Terrified, she obeys wordlessly and shuffles a bit to her left. We all watch in horror as the clouds begin to rapidly form downwards around her and immediately I am turning around to run. "Giselle just stay in the middle and you'll be okay!" Dad yells at her just before the tornado touches the ground. The last thing I saw of her was her falling her to her knees and sobbing.

My classmates and I all make a mad dash towards the closest form of safety we can reach. Some of them are already in there by the time my legs carry me to my destination, and they pull me inside the giant freezer. I briefly wonder what the hell Europe needed these giant freezers for before deciding to be grateful instead when I realize the power in it had been switched off.

It was still cold enough in there to wear a coat and I pulled my grey raincoat closer around my shoulders as Jordan lifted me inside. Instantly my eyes scan the interior for Yixing with anxiety, only to see him a story above me and his outstretched hand to being me up there with him. I remind myself it's to make room for our other classmates and not because he wanted me near him.

After all, he was the only reason I so desperately begged my parents to let me go on this field trip. Not to learn, but to see Yixing experiencing a different environment. The tornado wasn't on my list of events but we'd all have to deal.

Taking his hand, he lifts me up and pulls me to his side before retreating to his previous spot since everyone else went in through the other two freezers. He had made a makeshift fort of sorts, stacking up the bags of frozen food against the wall and lying against them.

I don't mean to stare, but he's really my only source of comfort at the moment since my family got separated from me. The thought of something horrible happening to them makes my eyes well up tears, but Yixing looks away before then and buries his face in his arms, but not before I see his own eyes water.

Feeling selfish and helpless, I boldly crawl over to him. "No, no, Yixing, it's alright." I coo, daringly taking his limp hand. I brace myself for a denial and push, but get neither as he lifts his head to gaze at me. Seizing my chance, I tell him what I know to be true. "The cyclone will pass us. We'll be safe and you'll be back in China in no time."

China is where Yixing is originally from, but he transferred to my high school to get a better education and was barely able to afford his trip here. I know it must be hardest on him, being so close to home now yet so far away.

After I say these words, the hand I'm holding loosely onto squeezes mine back and I watch, heartbroken, as his tears fall. He hides them as fast as he can though, lifting his face up into his hood and inhaling sharply.

Really, the only thing we can do is wait it out, and what's the best way to do that other than sleep? Lying down beside him, but careful not to pull my hand out of his, I keep a platonically safe distance away from his body, but close enough so when he generously tugs the bottom of his coat over my arms it's not stretching.

Contentment from Yixing accepting my efforts of comfort and him generously giving me some warmth is mixed with my pressing fear of dying tonight and never seeing my family again, I pass out quickly from being overwhelmed with emotion.

I dream of waking up in my bed at home, the house quiet but light. The lack of darkness is because of the rising sun's morning rays coming in through the window, but my family was still asleep. I was so warm in my blankets, the heat emanating from another source besides just me. I slightly tilt my head up and see my sister sleeping next to me and realize why I was so warm.

Except that's not the actual reason. Shortly after this scene I'm startled awake by someone yanking my warmth away from me. I gasp and force my eyes open, only to remember where I was. As fast as I can manage half awake, I sit up when Yixing does and see him awkwardly fix his jacket around him before gently taking his hand back. I know that this is where my relationship with him ends so I don't even try to chat or stick around.

Once I crawl out of the freezer though, I realize his motive for getting away from me so swiftly was because of the booming presence of my father. He was approaching me fast, having spotted me after asking everyone where I was. As I return his bear hug of relief, I also turn my eyes towards Yixing as he exits the giant freezer. He released me to let me go to my dad? To avoid getting in trouble with him? It's no secret my father was the strictest and most intimidating man people knew.

Realizing I'd never know the answer unless I asked, which I wouldn't, I decide to believe it was so I could get to my dad faster and had nothing to do with the fact that he reached out to me when he was emotional and was probably (chance of 99.9%) embarrassed.

Dad let me go only to tell me we needed to go back to the lodge to find mom and Ben, to which I nodded fiercely to in agreement. We gathered the remaining students and made a single file line up the mountain path. Everything was almost unrecognizable now. Where there was once a beautiful town square surrounded by pines, lay instead a barren wasteland with only the lodge in sight. It was a comforting yet chilling feeling that had me holding myself for comfort.

We reached the lodge with no time wasted taking detours around shops and street vendors since there were none left, and as we approach, the door opens and our families shuffle out hesitantly. Seeing their children coming though makes them run to each other in relief, many of my classmates sobbing the moment they reached their parent's arms.

My mother and Ben go directly to dad, though, which is why I had time to observe this. I also witnessed the heart wrenching sight of Yixing seeing it all as parents got to embrace their children in joy and he was standing all alone. His family was in China, and he looked so homesick watching them all.

Tentatively and cautiously, as my father, mother, and brother are distracted by each other, I silently walk up behind Yixing and lift my arms up. Just before I touch him, he turns around to leave the bittersweet sight, only to run into me.

Mortified I was caught but not willing to back down, I meet his eyes when he steps back in surprise, and hold it as he looks contemplatively at me. My eyebrows are furrowed worriedly and my arms are still meagerly up, and he takes all that in before allowing me to pull him to me. Maybe I was overstepping my boundaries as classmate, but he had no protest to anything I've done so far and even hugs me back gently.

Maybe it's the dew leftover from the storm, but with my face pressed into his chest, I can smell the rainy scent coming from his shirt and skin. Through the fabric of his clothes I can feel his warmth again, this time easing into me instead of onto me. Despite my firm grip around his back, I felt relaxed with him so close and almost comfortable, if not for the fact that we were in front of so many people and anyone could glance over and see this.

Yixing's existence has made my life so much brighter without his knowledge, and even if it remains that I'd happily keep it that way as long as it meant he'd be in it. "I'm happy you're alive." I don't even realize I said my thoughts aloud until I feel him twitch at it. Internally stabbing myself for speaking to a foreign exchange student who, even though knows some English, isn't very good at it, I feel like dying.

But then, "Shie shie, Tiffany." And ohhh if I could die happy that would be the moment. The way he said my name, slowly in fear of messing it up but firmly because his words were sincere, made me feel like I was floating in paradise. Who knew the gods would allow someone like Yixing to utter my name like an angel? It must have been some divine intervention to pay me back for my efforts of empathy.

[herohearts]

WINGS TOUR WEEKEND

This is gonna be v long I’m so sorry probably gonna break this down into parts tbh. BUT I NEEDED TO DO THE 2 1/2+ HOURS JUSTICE TBH. Sorted by member and then word vomits after. Just kidding, this is all fricking word vomit because I’m still emotional

(see 3 part guide at bottom)

Before The Show -roadtripping to CA was a religious experience and Utah is a terrible, barren wasteland that’s nothing but lost dreams and no gas stations -Staying next to the venue was the best plan we’ve ever had -why does everything in Anaheim close so early wtf resort town -the GA stampede was exactly as terrifying in person as on camera. Had to scream at a couple people to fricking stop so they wouldn’t keep trampling the poor girls -was part of the two-line standoff for merch; bless whoever decided to mutually merge the lines and kept everything super calm and chill during purchasing; got a Namjoon fan, photo book and WINGs towel for my effort 

-saw two girls with Hobi flower hats and it was such a treasure -adopted yet another kpop child who was such a sweet bab -found two kpop music shops in Korea town and spent way too much money on albums and merch but it was 10/10 worth it -my friend custom made shirts that said “We are your W.I.N.Gs We are your A.R.M.Y” with Namjoon’s name and birth year on the back. A+ designing and was super proud to get to wear one -I relate heavily to the v confused and overwhelmed security guard at our section. Poor guy had no clue what he’d gotten into -made friends with a cute girl next to me; kookie stans are such sweeties -Our WINGS group chat was full of dying whale noises and incoherent babbles and I wouldn’t have it any other way -sitting alone sucked a tiny bit bc we were all too overwhelmed to communicate after -I literally have no concept of a voice or eardrums left ok bye

Before the Show Member Breakdown (warning, v long but covers all the boys) Misc. Concert Notes

[aeon-wolf]

Ascension - Chapter 5

Demos Educational Organization was like no other college Lena could have imagined. Instead of reading, math, and science, they were taught Ancient Greek, War Strategy, and Swordsmanship. Lena, shocked to find out her true parentage strikes friendships left and right at her new school. Her most treasured friendship of all, her friendship with one Daughter of Zeus, Kara Danvers. Follow Lena on a journey of self-discovery in an attempt to foil the plot of the Titans, and maybe learn a few things about herself along the way.

Or

A PJO inspired Supercorp series. Part One: Ascension.

Read it here on AO3

I.

Lena didn’t remember falling asleep. Though her body was so sore from sparring with Kara that she had headed back to her dorm room after dinner much to the amusement of the group. She had just flipped them all off and said she wasn’t as used to everything as they were yet.

When she got back to her room, she had just flopped on the bed, immediately shutting her eyes and letting Morpheus overtake her. Her mind drifted as she slept before settling in the middle of a barren wasteland. Lena looked around, taking in her surroundings. She walked among the stone ruins, running her fingers over the fallen structures, char marks marring the environment and smoke rising in the distance. The murky gray sky was lit up, but Lena could see no clouds or any source of light to brighten the area. Lena frowned as she could make out a figure in the distance.

Somehow, the figure got closer even though Lena nor the strange man were making any movements. Everything stopped when he was a few yards from her and she got a better view of him. She did not recognize the person standing before her. She could see his chest and arms were bare, his lower body covered in armor, though she was looking at his back, his muscles a prominent feature of his body. A golden cape wrapped around his shoulders.

Lena could see dark brown hair cut short atop his head. She glanced down his body to see a fancy and impressive golden sword attached to his hip and a helmet tucked under his arm. The man turned to face Lena and the freshman gasped as she looked at his eyes. Instead of a single color, she saw his gaze shift through various, vibrant shades of red, yellow and orange, like flames were flickering behind his eyes. Lena wanted to take a step back, distance herself from the man in front of her, but she couldn’t move.

Lena whimpered, both intimidated and in awe of the man who stood before her. He looked to be much older than her, at least 10 to 15 years if not more. Though if Lena was straight, she might find him attractive. She met his stare, his eyes seeming to stare into her soul. As much as she wanted to look away, she didn’t, captivated by the flickering colors of his eyes.

The man opened his mouth, a smooth voice issuing from it, echoing in Lena’s ears, “Before the end, you will know who you truly are.” Lena frowned, not understanding his words, but quickly shielded her eyes as the man before her disappeared in a brilliant flash of light. Lena slowly opened her eyes as the light faded before she felt a hand grab her wrist. She gasped as the same man had materialized beside her, taking her right wrist in his hand. He wrapped his fingers all the way around it, his palm facing the inside of her wrist.

Lena felt a searing pain in her wrist, like a red hot burn marring her skin. Lena screamed out in her dream, jarring her out of her sleep and she jolted up in her bed, breathing deeply, sweat running down her forehead. The pain disappeared like it had never existed. Lena glanced down at her wrist. To her horror, she saw a glowing symbol etched into her skin. A blazing sun with an open eye in the middle. Lena lifted her wrist to inspect it more closely, but the symbol glowed brightly and disappeared, her pale skin becoming unmarked.

The freshmen blinked and frowned. ‘That was more than just a dream.’ Lena thought to herself. Shaking her head, she looked out the window of her room. Night had fallen on the campus, the moon high in the sky. Lena got out of her bed and walked over to the window. Unable to fall back to sleep and finding herself unconsciously rubbing her wrist, Lena leaned up against the wall next to the window, watching a few students walk between dorms and others messing around the darkness.

Lena wasn’t sure how long she stood there, it could have been hours for all she knew, but eventually she decided to go back to sleep. She would ask Maggie about her dream tomorrow she decided. So Lena actually changed her clothes as she had fallen asleep earlier without doing so. She grabbed an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts, stripping down and changing into her pajamas.

The freshman crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her body. She lay with one arm behind her head as she laid on her back, staring at the ceiling. It didn’t take long for sleep to overtake her, but as she slept, she tossed and turned, those fiery eyes haunting her dreams.

II.

Maggie all but threw herself into her usual seat next to Lena in Ancient Greek the next day. She smiled at her friend, but noting the tired look on her face, immediately looked concerned. “Are you okay Lena? I mean, I know you’re not used to sparring with Kara for much of the afternoon, but you look…” Maggie trailed off, not wanting to come across as rude. Lena shook her head.

“No it’s not that, but yeah. I’m a little tired. I didn’t sleep too well last night.” Lena said, yawning. Maggie gave Lena a sympathetic look.

“We’ve all had those nights. Any specific reason why you couldn’t sleep?” Maggie asked her friend. Lena hesitantly nodded. Maggie tilted her head to the side, silently asking Lena to continue.

“I… had the weirdest dream last night. It felt too real to be fake, but I also knew I was asleep. I jolted awake as it ended. And then I just couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night, even when I went back to sleep.” Lena confided in her friend. Maggie frowned. But didn’t immediately comment. Lena hoped that she hadn’t spooked her friend.

Eventually, Maggie responded, “I think you should probably talk to Alex about this one. She’ll probably have better advice than I could give you.” Maggie said. “I’ve heard of those sorts of dreams happening to halfbloods before and they usually aren’t just dreams.” Lena bit her lip, afraid that Maggie was right.

Ancient Greek went along without any more mention of Lena’s dreams between the two friends. They sat in the back, as usual, and didn’t pay much attention to their teacher, rather continuing their discussion from the previous day about the uses of human technology in enhancing their world. Lena thought that while much of the halfblood’s world was very much focused on older techniques, like sword fighting and archery, that someone like Winn could easily rig up more modern weaponry like guns and grenades to function like celestial bronze would against attacking monsters.

Maggie was of a similar mindset but wondered more about the defensive aspects of such technology. Could the Hephaestus kids create armor that was more resistant to monster attacks? And how realistic would it be to use on quests and such, where mobility and speed were usually key. The two would often write down ideas in their notebooks to chat with their friends about. But they hadn’t worked out all the details between themselves yet, so they hadn’t talked to Alex or Winn about such an idea, though they were sure both of them would be receptive to the idea. Winn especially.

Class ended and the two friends packed up their stuff, laughing together as Maggie had been talking Lena a story from when she had first met Kara and the overly excited daughter of Zeus had accidently broken one of her ribs when she discovered that Alex and Maggie were dating and had hugged her a little too tight. “That sounds like something she would do,” Lena remarked as the two walked towards the cafeteria together. Maggie grinned, nodding.

“You should have seen the horror on her face! If it hadn’t hurt so much, I would have been laughing my ass off.” Maggie replied, smiling at the memory. The two grabbed some food before sitting next to their friends. Lena set her food next to Kara who smiled brightly at her friend.

“Hi, Lena!” Kara said happily. Lena smiled at the sight of Kara, her heartbeat increasing slightly and butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she looked at the blonde. Lena knew she was developing a little bit of a crush on Kara but didn’t know what to do about it. Kara was her friend. In fact, one of her most important friends. She didn’t want to make things awkward between them. Especially because basically all of her friends at Demos were also Kara’s friends, and in fact were Kara’s friends before they were hers. She didn’t want her feelings for Kara to get in the way of their friendship and make the group awkward.

“Hi, Kara.” Lena greeted with a small smile before turning to Alex. “Alex, do you mind if we talk? Privately.” Lena added at the end. The dark haired girl glanced at Kara who was giving her a concerned look, but Alex nodded, standing up and kissing Maggie on the cheek.

“I’ll be right back,” Alex said to her girlfriend, who nodded, looking up at Lena with a small, encouraging smile. The two walked over to a secluded table and sat down. “Something wrong Lena?” Alex asked. Lena nodded slowly. Alex was one of the people in the group who she didn’t talk to that much. The senior was a little bit intimidating to Lena, even though they saw each other every day. And she knew that Alex was extremely protective of Kara and Lena’s feelings for the blonde would most certainly be put through a 10 point test to prove her worth if anyone ever found out.

“I… I was talking to Maggie earlier and she told me I should talk to you.” Alex nodded, gesturing for the freshman to continue. Lena took a breath. “I had a really vivid dream last night. I… it felt like it was more than a dream, that it was real.” Lena said quietly, absentmindedly rubbing her wrist again. Though she didn’t share the content of the dream, Alex frowned.

“Do you know what it meant?” Alex asked slowly and Lena shook her head.

“I have no idea. I don’t even remember the entire thing,” Lena lied, not wanting to share the contents of the dream. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Alex or anything. Rather she had no idea what to make of it herself and wanted to keep it close to her chest for the time being. “Just flashes.” Alex nodded.

“It could possibly mean nothing. Halfbloods do dream like anyone else. But we also sometimes have prophetic visions and receive messages through our dreams too. And you, being a daughter of Apollo are more susceptible to them than most of us. I’d suggest going to see J’onn. See if he has anything to say.” Alex said gently, placing a hand on Lena’s shoulder, squeezing it. “There’s probably nothing to worry about, but if you’re concerned about it, he’ll probably be able to help.” Lena nodded once. Alex smiled as the pair stood up from their seats, walking back over to their friends.

Lena took her usual seat next to Kara as Alex settled back in next to Maggie. “What was that about?” Mon-El asked, who was sitting next to Kara. The blonde glared at the son of Ares who had the tact to look a little sheepish.

“Nothing. I just needed some advice.” Lena said, brushing off the question. Mon-El nodded, obviously accepting the answer, though Kara gave Lena a look that signified that she knew her friend was lying but didn’t push.

“Do you want to spar again today? Maybe try your hand against Mon-El?” Kara asked instead. Lena shook her head.

“No thanks. I’m still a little sore from yesterday, maybe tomorrow? There’s something I want to do today. Hope you guys don’t mind?” Lena asked. Both Kara and Mon-El shook their heads. They were used to Lena occasionally spending her free period without them. Lena nodded, silently thanking them for not asking what she was planning on doing. She was about to open her mouth when Winn slid in next to her.

She turned to face her son of Hephaestus. “Can I help you?” She asked teasingly. Winn laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Sorry to pop by like this. But I was wondering if I could bounce a new idea off of you?” Winn asked. Lena nodded, turning her full attention to Winn who proceeded to talk to her about his ideas for developing a new way to smith celestial bronze weapons faster and make them more durable.

III.

Lena nervously stood outside J’onn’s door. She hesitated then knocked softly. She waited for a second before the door opened. J’onn looked at her before smiling. “Lena. I was just about to have you come see me.” Lena frowned as he opened the door wider so she could step into his office.

“What for sir?” Lena asked curiously as J’onn went to sit back at his desk, gesturing for Lena to take a seat. Lena sat in the chair across from J’onn.

“The Gods have seen decided that they wish for you to lead a quest.” Lena’s eyebrows shot up.

“Me? But… Sir. I’m only a freshmen. I’ve barely learned anything this semester. Shouldn’t it be one of the seniors or something?” Lena asked frantically. J’onn gave Lena a knowing look.

“The Gods work in mysterious ways, Lena. But rest assured, this isn’t a mistake. And don’t sell yourself so short. I’ve seen your grades since you’ve gotten here. In only a few weeks you’ve gotten some of the highest grades in War Strategy that I’ve seen from a freshmen in a long time. And word on campus is that you were able to stand up to Kara Danvers on your first real sword fight.” Lena blushed that news of that sparring session had made it’s way to J’onn. “That’s not a small feat Lena.” He said warmly.

“I guess so,” Lena said hesitantly. “So I’m supposed to lead a quest to do what?” Lena asked. She had only heard stories of quests, usually they involved retrieving some magical artifact or something. J’onn didn’t speak, instead waved his hand at a blank space on the wall, a dark wooden door appearing out of nowhere.

“You are to speak with the Oracle, who will give you a prophecy. Only then will we know for sure what you mission is.” He said, gesturing to the door. Lena nodded, standing up from her chair and approaching the door in front of her. She grabbed the door handle, pulling it open to reveal a dimly lit room. She looked back at J’onn who nodded, encouraging her to enter the room. Lena gulped, walking into the room.

As soon as she was inside, the door mysteriously shut behind her. The slam of the door made her jump and look back at the door, before examining the room around her. In the middle of the room sat an upright coffin, open to reveal a dead body of a young girl. Lena hesitantly approached it, inching forward, as if the corpse would magically come to life and devour her.

Lena wasn’t sure what to say or what to do. So she frowned, tilting her head slightly to the side. “What is my destiny?” She whispered, feeling stupid, talking to a dead body. But the candlelight that lit the room immediately brightened a blue aura surrounding the corpse in front of her. Lena stepped back automatically, bringing her hands up in front of her. The eye sockets of the girl glowed an eerie blue color as it spoke.

Six heroes will seek the Titans As the danger to Olympus heightens

To travel West, one shall lead A halfblood, a single Titan will pay heed

To live or die, depends upon friends, And in the end, one will ascend.

As the Oracle finished speaking, the lights dimmed back down, the blue aura fading. The door opened behind her, revealing J’onn’s office where the man was sitting at his desk, obviously waiting for her to emerge.

There isn't much for me to say about this chapter. It's pretty... self-explanatory. Lena is having weird dreams. Not odd for a halfbood, right? Also, I'm no good at writing poetry or whatever, so writing a prophecy myself was a bit of a reach. But it got the point across, so I'm fine.

I think it's pretty obvious which five other halfbloods Lena is going to pick to go with her on the quest though. So, yeah. :) I guess one of the biggest mysteries is who was the man from Lena's dream? Who knows. Except me of course. I know who he is. *wink*

[tialovestelevision]

The Ring

It’s the year 2000. UFC has really hit its stride, with megastars like Tito Ortiz and Randy Couture at their physical peak, six major pay per view events, and an enormous amount of cultural cachet. Pro wrestling, meanwhile, is just starting to descend from its hottest period - there are still three major national promotions, the two biggest of which are running the two top-rated shows in cable, and while World Championship Wrestling is in decline by this time, the World Wrestling Federation is doing absolutely crazy business. The Rock, Stone Cold Steve Austin, and Mankind are all at the very top of their game, and Bill Goldberg is on a tear in Atlanta while Sting and Hulk Hogan retain an enormous ability to draw ratings and make money. Boxing is getting a lot of attention, too, though it’s in a period of relative decline compared to its most recent peak. On the whole, combat sports and sports entertainment - which are often mixed up by people outside their various fandoms - are as big a part of the entertainment and cultural landscape as anything else. Angel is a show about life in the world’s core of showbiz. How could it not do an episode about this? And because Angel is about the dark side of everything, how could that episode not involve people enslaving demons to resurrect the gladiatorial exhibitions of ancient Rome? 1. Cordelia is on Demons Demons Demons. Probably .com. It’s a demon database. She’d rather call it Demon Database. If this was made a few years later, it’d be WikiEvil. Wolfram & Hart isn’t in the database, but there are a lot of things in the database. Cordy wants to make a demon dating site. That’s… not a terrible idea. 2. Now Cordy and Wes are insulting each other’s dating lives. Ouch. Cordy just said Angel wears a push-up bra. They have a client, though, who’s injured. Looks like he’s been punched in the face. A lot. His name is Darren McNamara, and his brother Jack was kidnapped last night. The kidnappers left his finger in Darren’s mailbox. They weren’t people. 3. Darren and Jack aren’t close. And Michael Buffer isn’t guest starring in this, which is a mistake. Jack was in over his head with a bookie named Nellin. Darren tried to stop demons from dragging Jack away, but it didn’t work. He’s willing to pay ransom. Angel is going to chat with the bookie. 4. Angel does a badass entry, because he’s good at that, and talks to Nellin. It’s about making Jack an example now, so Nellin won’t take Darren’s money. He will take Angel’s, though, as a bribe to sell out his demon partners. Angel’s going under Beachwood Canyon now to look for Jack. 5. Cordy is searching the demon database for the demons that kidnapped Jack. They are pale and bald and slimy and have claw-like hands and a sulphuric smell. Cordy has dated this guy a lot. Cordy found the demon. It’s a howler demon. 6. Angel is underground now. Searching with a flashlight. he found the howler demons and is fighting them now. It’s not going well. They do make a lot of noise.Someone’s watching the fight. They sold Jack. Angel found out to whom. He’s now back in town at a line going into a building. People need tickets, but Angel doesn’t play by The Man’s rules, so he’s going in a grate in the back. 7. Fancy party. Angel meets a black-haired woman drinking wine with a gambling ticket. Then he goes further in to find a fighting pit with a cage. There’s demons fighting in the pit. When one brings the other down, the crowd chants “Killing Blow.” It’s no “Joe’s gonna kill you” or even “What?” but it’ll do. The cage is also equipped with a Do Not Cross red line. The green demon who’s winning has a knife now. He slit the other demon’s throat.Tom Cribb is the green demon’s name, who has had seven career kills. The next fighter is from the barren wastelands of Trevyok, which I assume is somewhere near Sacremento. I… think I just saw 2010-era Bret Hart in the background of a shot, but that makes no sense at all. Ah! It was Jack. Anyway, Trevyok-guy. “The Menace of Venice!” Passable. “The Titan of Terror!” You need a better sell job than this ring announcer can give to pull that one off. “The Avatar of Agony!” Okay, I like that one. “The one, the only…” Filling time. “VAL TREPKOS!” There was once a pro wrestler named Richard Blood. You’d think that would be the perfect name for a wrestler, except that Mr. Blood was a legitimately nice guy. Decent. Family man. Great athlete. Couldn’t play evil to save his own life, and Richard Blood is a villain name. So when wrestling, he used the name Ricky Steamboat. Val Trepkos should have asked Mr. Blood to use his birth name. Val Trepkos is a terrible demon gladiator name. 8. Angel follows Jack out of the arena and into the back. He found Jack and Darren and a bunch of guys with tasers. He’s been set up by his own client. Angel threw Jack then got tased into unconsciousness. They’re going to use him in the fights. 9. Now Angel is in a cage. He has a metal bracelet on that says “XXI.” He asked for a room with a view. Angel speaks Spanish, Russian, and Italian, but his roommate does not. Jack just called everyone “slaves.” The wristband makes sure the fighters don’t cross the red line, but comes off after the twenty-first kill. I don’t think I believe that. Angel says he’s not killing anyone, but Jack says that means Angel will be killed. 10. Cordy thinks something is wrong. Wes does not. Wes is going to see the bookie. 11. Angel and the demons are having lunch. There’s gruel. Cribb took a guy’s gruel. Angel is getting it back. Cribb has killed a lot of vampires, but Angel still took the guy’s gruel back. Lasovek is fighting Baker. Trepkos is in the main event against Mellish, whose gruel Angel saved. A demon just jumped across the red line, and disintegrated. Unpleasantly.Angel is now in a fight, though. 12. Wesley is at the bookie’s. The bookie is punching a guy, but Wes interrupted. Nellin mocks Wes when Wes pulls a crossbow, but then he shoots Nellin’s hand and takes his gun before getting Nellin’s guys at gunpoint. Pretty badass. He let the guy Nellin was beating up go, then started using the arrow to torture Nellin. 13. It’s time for a fight. The black-haired woman is talking to Darren about Angel’s soul. She just bet on Angel. The guy Angel helped is giving Angel advice, but Angel isn’t going to kill his opponent. The ring announcer is really not great. Angel’s fighting, very defensively, not giving the crowd the show they want. 14. Cordy and Wes are playing cop outside the arena, conning a couple into giving up their tickets. They say there’s a raid going down tonight to get the people whose tickets they took to leave. 15. Angel is still in his fight. The crowd is very unhappy. Wes and Cordy found Darren, and Angel. The matches date back to Rome. Wes knows how the bracelets work. Darren just set his bracelet down. Now the demon Angel’s fighting has a knife. That won’t kill a vampire… the crowd is on the killing blow chant again. Angel accidentally killed the guy. Now the crowd is cheering, so what they’re there for isn’t the quality of the fight; it’s the killing. 16. “That wasn’t the first life I’ve taken. Or the twenty-first.” Angel’s friend is going to get killed by Trepkos. Yep. Very fast. The fans did not get their money’s worth in the main event. It was 2016’s Survivor Series in there. 17. Cordy wants to call the police, but Wes points out both that the police are probably in on it and that if they weren’t, Darren and Jack would kill the fighters if there was a hint of an investigation. Wes needs a cuff to make a key, which wouldn’t be easy except Cordy took the one Darren was playing with. Oops. 18. Jack is an idiot who let Angel drag him across the line and take him hostage. Darren is there, and Angel is searching Jack’s pockets and yelling at Jack and generally terrifying him, but the other demons aren’t moving. But Darren shot Jack and Angel both, then sent guards in to blast Angel with shock sticks. So Jack’s dead, but Angel’s in an office with the black haired woman. Her name is Lilah Morgan. She’s a fight fan and a lawyer, an associate at Wolfram and Hart. She bought his contract from McNamara. Lilah seems to think of herself as a decent person picking the battles she can win. “There’s not one reason we can’t work together.” Angel: “You’re right. There are about a thousand.” He’s going back to the arena. 19. The cuff is half magic, half technology, and they need something that conducts only a moderate amount of electricity to open it. 20. Angel’s back at the arena now. The demons think he’s crazy. He probably is. Darren has put Angel up against Trepkos, who is at 20 kills now. 21. The key to making the key is horsehair, and Cordy thought of it. Wes can now open the cuffs. 22. Lilah is betting on Trepkos. “Is this how you want to pay for your freedom? With 21 bodies? You’ll always be their slave, even if they take that off your wrist.” Trepkos promised to kill Angel quick; Angel says he won’t let Trepkos do so. Now they’re fighting. Cordy is in the back, looking for the ladies’ room. She made a distraction so Wes could get into the barracks. He’s talking to the bully demon. Wes told the bully demon about the key, so the demon took it and unlocked his own cuff. They just tossed sticks down into the pit, so Trepkos has a long stake. So does Angel. Wes is watching Darren around the edge of the cage. Angel got impaled, but in the gut. Now Angel’s got Trepkos on the ground, but threw his stick away. Crowd is booing. Bully demon is releasing the other demons, but Trepkos is beating Angel up and Wes and Cordy are sneaking around. Angel’s getting kicked in the head a lot. But Trepkos isn’t killing him either. Angel fell down.The guards have tasers, but Wes has a gun on Darren. Then the demons storm the ring, and some of them are grabbing fans from the side and pulling them into the pit. Wes is fighting Darren, but Cordy pushed him into the pit. Bully demon put his cuff on Darren, and Trepkos threw Darren over the red line, so he disintegrated. Now Trepkos and Angel and bully demon are walking out together. 23. Angel, Cordy, and Wes are leaving together. They just realized they set a bunch of demons free. They look horrified, but we know demons aren’t all evil because the show has told us that. Overall: That was neither bad nor good, neither great nor awful. It came in, did its job, and left. A story about combat sports, or about slavery, or about the virulent nature of violence could all have been told in that framework, but none of them were. Instead, we got an hour in which a simple, coherent narrative was told competently and all the pieces of the plot fell in together, but nothing was learned and nobody grew. Except Trepkos. I guess he grew. And bully demon. But none of us grew.