#that i must bow so low ( moder )

[aconflagrationofmyown]

but then…Gigi

An Elvis fanfic -chapter 3

Notes: finally a little update! There’s more coming up behind it I just needed to break it up a bit. Thank y’all for all the asks and the continued enthusiasm! Hope y’all enjoy! 💗

18+ content, sexual content, age gap and poor self esteem, parental neglect

Chapter Three

It’s stuffy inside the Stutz, humid air trapped inside it and in the garage; even Elvis Presley’s garage smells like mildew on this oppressive, stormy summer day. Her perspiration gluing her bare legs to his leather seats, Gigi tries in vain to pace her gasping breaths in the thick air.

Raising a jittery hand from its place balled in a fist on her thigh, she touches her lips in an effort either to relive or soothe the memory -she doesn’t know.

Elvis had kissed her.

Acting on her dare, he had kissed her. And it was no solitary peck or showy tongue plunge, it was a kiss so wanting and yearning and adoring as to make her feel it in her toes. Even now they were still tingling and her blood was roaring in her ears and if she wasn’t so overwhelmed with sensation and emotion, she might have found it in herself to touch herself to some completion just to make this pounding want for him moderate itself before the man himself appeared. Each passing second tore her between fretting over the unpleasant scenes that must be occurring inside the house and unadulterated glee over the thought of him finally helping himself to a portion of her.

She liked him a little selfish. It made her feel wanted, and it was a woozy, drippy, woolen headed feeling to be wanted by a real, red blooded man. Gigi hadn’t much experience with that, with the barrel chested, raspy voiced, brandy tempered men in their 40’s. Like a shot of whiskey after so many fruit drinks, his seasoned appraisals were flattering and dizzying all at once.

Her pulse roars and her thighs smack against each other with each shift against leather and helplessly Gigi closes her eyes and relives the feeling of his hands buried in her hair, cradling her face, thumbs anchored at her jaw, bending her to his kisses as his weight crushes her to the floor.

He’d been so large, so sturdy, so sure, ungiving yet plush all in the right mix. And she had felt him hanging low and prodding. The memory zaps her right where she had felt him thick and firm in his soft track bottoms and with a gasp tumbling from bitten lips she sneaks a hand beneath the hem of his jacket and into her sodden panties. As the time wears on she has some strange presentment that he’ll have lost the mood they were in and it’s out of a sort of despair that she chafes her slippery little hood in a quick bid for relief. She thinks about those thighs of his, sturdy and toned and furred as she’d seen them when in his swim shorts, she thinks about rubbing herself raw on them.

Her feet make a squeaking noise where they’re propped up against the glove box, her legs trembling from the sparks, widening as the feeling mounts. A quick squeak of friction and she catches herself and sucks on her lip, repositions those long legs to a sturdier stance and speeds up her hand in her knickers as the sweat pours down her neck, wets the back of her hair where it drapes down her back and his seats. Suffocated she yanks the zipper away from her neck, undoing the jacket down the glistening hollow of her navel. She flaps the edges to get a breeze.

Almost there, almost there.

What Elvis had not anticipated to find waiting for him in his Stutz after a predictably miserable finale with Ginger and Co. was the leggy beauty of his deepest, darkest, most far fetched daydreams fingering herself with unabashed gusto in the passenger seat.

Childlike in her concentration, with eyes closed and legs splayed so wide the entire windshield was like a projector for the damn show happening beneath a tiny nylon scrap, Gigi all bowed up under his unzipped jacket like a bowstring, teetering towards a damn good crescendo by the looks of her vibrating legs.

It was obscene.

Made more so by those fat titties of hers barely covered by his unzipped jacket, glistening with every heaving breath. All in stark constant to that angelic face. It was infuriating.

Something akin to jealousy animated Elvis enough to send him stumbling down the remaining step to land his bejeweled hands heavily enough on the car’s door frame to cause a clatter and frighten the daylights outta his lil nymphomaniac.

He’s not sure who’s blushing worse when those blue eyes fly open and she gasps,

“Elvis.”

in acknowledgement of his presence while doing nothing to remove the offending hand from between her legs. He had been able to hear the sopping wet mess between them and it takes him aback a little, this tangible proof of her carnal interest. He’d been doing a damned good job with Ginger, settling in for the quiet life of reading and tennis, no heady first encounters and only his stupid bouts of yearning causing him to commission stupidly erotic tokens of bygone potency like that welded belt with his name on it. A burdensome gift for an unwilling recipient.

Guess he’s gonna have to run by the jeweler and cancel that trinket, Ginger hasn’t any use for it now. But this, this is better than any of that. This is old fashioned and nasty, this way of Gigi’s cunt makin’ a sound like stirring Macaroni and Cheese between her legs. It’s both flattering and terrifying and his blood rushes to meet the challenge just as it had when he first found a woman lying in wait for him in his car after the hayride in ‘56. She’d had a husband, that lady, and a wet snatch that had dripped down to her very calves watching him put on a show. Elvis had put his whole fist up there and got fondled real nice for it before ending up with a busted face.

It’s been awhile since anyone laid in wait for him.

Finding such raw need for him oughta make him smile. Instead he finds it makes him pause, hand on the door handle. He didn’t think she was this sort.

“Lord forgive ya, you enjoyin’ yourself lil girl?” he mumbles with an edge to his tone as Gigi just sits there and shakes, teetering on the edge and not even ashamed, although her hand has stilled. He hates it, for one fierce second he’s irreparably cross with this virginal little harpy for having deceived him, for being so randy when he’d been so sure she needed protection and guidance.

He’s sick of being wrong about women, sick to death of it.

“Yessir, I am -was.” she whispers back to him, eyes wide and guileless, “I’m so glad you’re here.” she says with such obvious relief in her breathy voice and faith in his good intentions to satisfy her that he’s reminded suddenly what a baby she is, like a punch to the gut and kick to the conscience. He’s still leaning on the doorframe when she takes her hand outta those panties and he wants to be relieved until she stretches it towards him with all the pleading grace of a damsel in great distress, “I need you real bad.” she explains plaintively and all that well entrenched nonsense about how ladies oughta behave themselves when in public spaces like garages or pools, suddenly gets a little murky in Elvis’ head. Sorta floaty and fuzzy when met with the sticky, perfect, nectarine sweet smell of her want for him glistening on the tips of her fingers.

“The hell are ya, the serpent himself?” he grumbles even as he wrenches open the car door and heaves himself in alongside her, his belly wedged behind the wheel in a regretfully inelegant bulge. “Get that fuckin’ temptation outta my face, we’ve buisness to discuss. We ain’t primates, we’re adults and we’ll dee-s-cuss the various matters at hand like adults.”

Elvis slaps her hand away from his nose as he says this and Gigi clutches it to her chest as if his sharp words had scorched the soft flesh of it. He tries to ignore the way the whole car smells of thunderstorm trapped pussy musk. The way her eyes are brimming with tears over his refusal to suck the sticky strings of her horniness off her digits. And the way he feels so pressed to keep things sedate between them initially, simply because he knows “adults” is a kind word for them both.

He’s a dirty old man with what he wants and will eventually get around to doing with this fawnish young thing if she lets him. And holy lord!

- ‘Adults’-

it ain’t a lie in respect to her, they’re both adults, but it’s rather reaffirming of how shoddy that excuse is when he has to say it a million times to comfort himself and this over excitable girl who has her legs wide open and her thighs shiny from fingering herself to the memory of a make out session.

God, what he could do with such sensitivity…

“Alright, listen here, lil one-” He makes an effort to clear his throat and in a bid to make her eyes stop watering with unshed tears from his tone, Elvis tries to lighten the mood by aiming a little slap at the offending place between her still splayed legs.

It has a slightly more stimulating effect than he anticipated.

Gigi’s eyes fly wide in cerulean disks of joy at the ringing pain of his rings smacking against her petals, right before her body goes rigid and his hand gets trapped between two spasming thighs as an unmistakable little peak rips it’s way through her, taking its sweet time to zap her and compress her lungs. The sight is heavenly and it gives him a little prelude of what it would be like to make her lose her mind.

His irritation fades away at the sight of her trusting pleasure and the melted look of loneliness that flashes across her face as she endures it with ample room between them on the seats, no embrace to catch the slumping after effects. He’s a cruel man and his hand defends himself by rubbing at her soothingly, asking for forgiveness with fumbling swipes of the pads of his fingers along her inner thigh. His hand is drenched when he yanks it out and grabs at a knee, hauling her over across the bench seat, scraping her thighs over sticky leather, nearer to him.

She looks like she needs a hug after what he just did to her.

What had he done? Fucked if he knows, he had pussy slapped her…err, ok he made out with her on his floor…no, he led her on before that but it was all in good fun…he’d held her in the pool…no law against that…he’d made her a burger as any hopeless romanti-

-as any good host would do.

He takes out his confusion on the hapless gear shift, tucking this suggestively foldable girl into his side and reaching round her shoulders to yank at the jewel studded stick, desperate to get outta this garage before someone witnesses him losing his mind in there.

He gets the gear shift tacky from her traces on his hand. He should've guessed that, strings of slick connecting them still even as she calms down from the feel of him against her in the seat, just as he suspected, hoped, needed. No words as the car revs out and into the drive, just her little moans still bubbling up as the car moves and her legs jostle her.

“Baby, tuck yourself down beside me,” he pleads, “don’t want no one to see your precious self.”

Gigi wastes no time in getting offended over his secrecy. Instead she somehow folds further, head nearly between her legs and face smushed into the crease where his belly meets his thigh. It’s not what he meant, it’s not what he wanted. The bottom of the steering wheel is liable to knock her little nose with each spin. And his fat gut is folded against her forehead.

It’s not what he’d wanted.

But today seems to be going that sorta way. The screwed up, make a fool outta his hopes sorta day.

He still manages to be polite to his boy in the gate shack and it’s gratifying that there are a few folks outside the gate, loitering mostly but they animate when he drives out, happy and waving and caring whether he lives or dies or never drives outta there again. Gratifying, it’s real gratifying. He protectively lays his hand on Gigi’s head to keep her low, to keep her steady in her curled up position as the voices of his fans rise outside the automobile and the car spins out into the boulevard with enough force to send a frailer girl straight to the floor boards.

Instead Gigi just clutches at his leg and throws a tanned leg out to catch herself against the console, takes the turn like a champ and stays down as he asked. Her hand warms him like some forbidden shit coursing lava-like through his veins, pounding in that artery under her palm, there beneath his squishy inner thigh, so close to where he can feel himself getting heavy -if not hard- right there in the baggy tracksuit. He thinks he must be dreaming, that it’s just an action of readjustment, but no.

No.

God it can’t be, no but, he could swear she was nuzzling that crease of his. The one that used to be lean and cut during his army days, chiseled and contoured in the movies and always at least a little defined even as a boy but now -now it’s a soft roll of flesh dropping onto bulky thighs and she’s -

Fuck. She’s definitely nuzzling it.

Gigi’s head is foggy and fuzzy with the old terror of having messed up somehow and somewhere and not knowing what it was. It makes her pulse race and her eyes burn in that old crybaby way until she thinks she can’t take it anymore and just might pass out like an overwrought little maiden -until she feels him tuck her into the security of his warm side, until she hears his pleading command to hunker down, until his hand cradles her head as he presses her lower into the bulk of his soft belly: and then she is warm and safe.

Fuzzy and foggy then in a way only her silliest daydreams have ever promised her. The ones where she’s loved and permitted to be a little too soft for it all. One where her forehead is pressed against warm flesh beneath a tracksuit, her lips puckered out to feel the material glide against them, straining for the feel of his wiry curls beneath. She feels compelled to cradle herself in every nook and cleft of him, her arms winding around him as he takes a turn and her hand anchoring to his thigh, her cheek atop it. Her nose buried in that scrumptious fold of his that is as burnin’ hot and sticky to her senses as a Tupelo hothouse in august.

It makes her moan, a hot and puffy gust of appreciation, her thighs still smashed together. She could cry this time from gratitude at how close he is to her, how commanding the weight of his hand is on her head. She’d happily let him push her face into his crotch in payment for having messed up all his arrangements today. She’s never given a blowjob before, not properly at least, and maybe he’d be a little angry about it but she thinks she could take it. She wouldn’t like him angry but as long as she was near him and he was down her throat and gripping her jaw and pulling her hair -well, he’d have to touch her to do all that and she wanted that. She needed that. That would be ok. It would be kinda hot. She just needed him to stay close. Forever.

She’d never felt so safe as she did now, tucked under his arm with his hand spanning her whole skull and likely driving straight to a speedy deflowering. Nothing about that gave her pause. She was sure she could love him to some sort of compromise -one involving her being his pet and he her daddy for ever and a day. It was simple really. So simple it felt like it had already begun and that silly adult conversation he needed to have with her had been worked out and now they were off into the sunset.

Gigi feels a wash of contentment at this. Simple really, she thinks again to herself and acts on it as she feels him suck in his stomach in response to her nosing at his fold. It had made the hem of his jacket gape and she takes full advantage of that by discreetly sticking her whole face up in that musky little tent and peppering his soft belly with heartfelt smooches. His belly is still wet, maybe from his shower after the pool.

Kiss, kiss, just a little peppering of pecks.

She licks her lips. It’s salty. She pecks at him again. This time open mouthed. Definitely salty.

Kiss kiss kiss. Just little kisses. Little thank you’s.

Each one saying “we’re gonna be so happy.” It was simple really. They could make each other happy. Isn’t that how kids form their friendships? You make me laugh, you share your toys, you like my food. Let’s love each other.

Kiss kiss kiss.

The brakes squeal and the wheel bonks her head and maybe she wasn’t being as subtle as she intended with her affections but those were all minor distractions. They were gonna be happy together.

“Sweet merciful baby Jesus on the cross—“ she hears Elvis saying above her instead, muffled by his jacket and a few pounds of prime memphian beefcake.

“What is it?” she asks, yanking her head out from under his jacket to get some perspective on why they’ve stopped, all she can see is at endearing little extra bit of fleshy padding under his chin and the curve of his lips and maybe beyond that there appears to be an awning outside the window, like at a gas station. They must be low on fuel.

“What is it?” he mimics with a lifted eyebrow and a silly expression that just enhances his adorable double chin, a goofy little move she recognizes from his movies but likes it better from this vantage point. “The “it” is you, lil girl, as usual,” he laughs in disbelief, “and the “what” is that you’re gonna give this ole man a heart attack goin on like that while he’s navigatin’ a public roadway. Ain’t safe, ain’t sensible.”

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that.” she says and it’s so honest and accepting he melts right away at it. That and the fact she’s still laying down all shiny and golden across his lap with her hair pooling in the V of his legs and her smile lookin’ so fond at what she must consider a portly, middle-aged fussbudget.

Since when did he start soundin’ like fuckin’ Gingerbread? Whinin’ bout safety when he coulda been spurtin’ down an untried throat.

“You’re just so cuddly, Elvis, wanted to snuggle right in. Way you were drivin’ I figured I needed an airbag if things went wrong.” She explains teasingly and there goes that smile again and he’s so confused and so in love… “We low on fuel, Elvis?” she asks without missing a beat.

“Wha-?” he glances around and realizes he has peeled the car up next to a Seven Eleven’s dingy pumps. “No, I’s just tryin’ to get away from a lil snail that burrowed under my damn jacket.”

Gigi giggles at that and so he does too. Goes so far as to take his hand off the idle wheel and cup the sharp underside of her chin. He feels it again, that thrumming, electric, shocking and sedating connection all at once, everything that oughta be felt when you touch another’s soul, everything full of good intentions.

“I just wanted to kiss on ya some more.” she explains herself so very softly to him as her eyes flutter shut from his touches and her legs draw up and together unconsciously on the bench seat. “I do know givin’ road head’s illegal.” she says next with a laugh and it jars him, “And you’re a cop!” she feigns a little horror. “But since you’ve got us parked…” she trails off before opening those glittery eyes again and lifting her head just a little as she turns back on her side, intimating some intention to make good on her jokes.

Elvis would rather go to hell than face fuck so sweet an Angel, much as his leg twitches from want for it. Her face is so close, so, so close. He’d rather go to hell.

She ducks her head and her hair covers the revolting scene as he feels rather than sees Gigi nuzzle beneath his belly and press a wide open kiss to his (pretty neglected of late) ball sack, aiming at random, he thinks, from the way she just open-mouth-smooches him. His toes curl from it.

That’s all the reaction she’s gonna get from his useless body, those pills he took for the migraine this morning are gonna keep him as limp as those goddamn seaweed noodles Ginger tried to feed him in Hawaii. Just a couple of years ago he coulda easily choked this little thing to death with his firm meat but now she’s gonna find out he can’t even twitch when he’s this sedated. Ballsack smmotching and pussy slaps, regardless.

He’d rather go to hell.

“Don’t be crass, lil girl, that sorta act ain’t becomin’ on you.” he says it as gently as he can, in a fatherly way if he thinks about it, weaving his hand into her hair and savoring that visual ecstasy for just a moment before he pulls her head the opposite direction his body really wants, pulls her up and away from him. She’s surprised and saddened enough by the rejection that she jerks her head up faster than he’s guiding it and it bonks into the steering wheel again.

The blast of the car horn makes them both yelp.

She scrambles to sit up, doubly wounded.

There’s those tears forming again.

She’s frustrating in that way but he can’t manage to let it out on her, and that’s puzzling as only Yissa has ever elicited this amount of indulgence from him and he feels exhausted at that implication. He involuntarily shuts his eyes and he sighs and reaches over to pat her leg assuringly.

“You’re tired.” she deduces and there’s not a hint of judgment or disappointment in that voice.

“Yeah, and I gotta think.” he says, “All my thinkin’ spots are currently takin’ up by assholes.” he realizes, “And we’re gonna get caught out in the open here.”

She hums understandingly and he keeps petting that silky smooth leg, relishing how muscular those calves are, fingers itching to play with that anklet. He rubs his palm higher to get away from the dangly temptation, higher and in between her legs. He might as well give in a little. He rubs over the wet crotch of her panties and she sighs happily, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. Same position he’s in, mirroring him, as he keeps his eyes closed and rubs. He spreads his index and middle finger, catches those outer lips and traps them together, rubs her that way with her wet petals gliding together and her moans go up a notch. They just breathe and he rubs, the sound of the car idling a heavy bass to her breathy percussion.

“I’m sorry everybody is taking up your space.” Gigi makes conversation while he’s at it, and somehow it just feels right to chat while he pets her.

In the dark of his closed eyelids Elvis has regained a little peace and he lets his fingers drift to her pantyline, flirting with the idea of going under the fabric. “S’alright. ‘M’used to it.” he slurs, “Where d’ya go when you gotta get away?”

Gigi hasn’t got any fans or a legion of family members but somehow he knows, just knows she’s like him and has to get away. Someone’s always got something to get away from, or least the sensitive ones do.

“I've usually got the track.” she answers

“Hmm.”

“But they don’t bother me. They might bother you.”

“Yeah, s’no to the track. Though I’d like to watch ya run sometime.”

“Really?!”

“Don’t be silly, ‘course I would.”

“I haven’t had anyone come watch me run before.”

“I doubt that, honey.”

“No! Really!”

“Bleachers cleared out whenever you’re up?”

“No! No I mean anyone I know, besides the footballers.”

“Yeah, I bet they show. That’s shitty though, baby. I’m sorry for ya.”

“It’s alright.” she is the one who says it this time, “It’ll be like nothing at all if you really come! Please, please!”

“I done said I would. I will!”

“Aww thank you!”

“Honey, I wanna.” he insists, it’s very important she understand that if her folks haven’t ever once made her feel special like that. Even if he’ll be more like the footballers, come to watch her jugs and tight lil ass bounce down the track. Unlike them though, he’ll make sure to make her know he’s proud of her. He'll reward her real good for it afterwards, too.

His fingers slip under the panty seam. Calloused fingertips swiping along bare and slimy skin, she’s pooling and her slick’s working against gravity she’s so hungry for him. But that ain’t the troubling bit.

“Lord baby, where’s your hair?” he asks her in concern, finding a perfectly bald mound the more he rummages in her drawers. “You not grown any yet?”

Gigi laughs so hard he can feel her belly sucking in with each giggle beneath his forearm. “I shave it, silly. Isn’t it nice?”

“Baby you oughta have hair.” he insists, his hand quite stalled from this development. “Just damn weird for a woman to be posin’ like a lil girl.” Maybe that’s his conscience over the age gap talkin’ but he’s really a bit flustered by it.

“I’ll grow it out for you.” she whimpers, stung again by his rejections and -he really can’t seem to stop hurting her feelings, can he?

“Ok.” he says softly, going back to rubbing her and seeing that it has the intended comforting effect on her, “I’d preee-fer that, Gigi.”

“Ok.”

“Good girl.” Her eyes open at that and if his were too he’d see how happy he just made her, telling her something he’d like, something she can give him, guiding her. It’s new and soothing and thrilling to her all at once and she whines as she starts to thrust her hips up to meet his hand, quickly getting worked up.

“Can we go to your place?” he asks her softly and realizes it's been absolute ages since he had to ask someone that. Usually he’s always got a place to take them, usually they’re inviting him to theirs right away after the initial chit chat about names and weather. That feeling of being young and normal takes over again and it’s saddening how foreign it is.

“Yeah, yeah of course, Tammy’s out too, so we’ll be alone.” Gigi explains through heaving breaths as she doesn’t stop riding his hand as best she can with her leverage disadvantage.

He wants to see her place, he wants to see those records of his that Tammy says she’s got littering her room. He wants to see what Gigi does with a space when it’s hers. He wants to devour her stupid little bald beaver on her college dorm bed.

“Alrigh’ let’s go to yours.”

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[raichoose-moved-again]

@xfaucheuse​​

dani vc "i spend my summers feeing apples to the wild mustangs of the North"

the person looking at the photos "what the FUCK is that"

[raichoose-moved]

Like this post if you think she’s Neat.

[staticfog]

Tag Dump

-

[zerolostwalks]

Are you still taking character prompts? if so, Reggie & Julie, "would you play your banjo for me?" in-universe

The quiet sounds of a bass greeted Julie as she approached the studio doors. Admittedly she had been inconsistent about holding the guys to the ‘no amps allowed when your alone’ rule. Only because they usually were pretty good about keeping the volume low. Plus if it was just a lone bass that probably meant it was just Reggie in the studio, and that her dad must not even be home.

Reggie actually sat on the stool as he played for once. Although by the way his unfocused eyes stared at the wall in front of him, Julie wasn’t sure if he even realized he was playing. Julie’s nose scrunched as she settled onto the edge of the couch. “Hey, Reggie.”

“Oh.” Reggie’s head jolted back as his eyes refocused yet he still plucked away at his bass. Julie was moderately impressed by that, or maybe this particular song was just that ingrained in him. He turned his sparkling green eyes and a small smile to her, “hey Julie.”

“What’s this one?” She asked with a tilt of her head towards the bass. 

“Orion by Metallica. Oh! I heard this one coming from the car radio when your dad got home the other day” Reggie jumped off the stool. He had to focus a little more as he plucked out this new tune. “Was hoping you could help me figure out what it is, so I could learn the rest of it.”

“Ummm actually” Julie interrupted and she shrugged into herself a little. Reggie’s fingers stilled as he looked back at Julie. She shouldn’t feel nervous for asking, but somehow she wasn’t sure if she was crossing a line. “I came down here to see if you would play your banjo for me?”

Julie knew that look on Reggie’s face. She saw it every time he couldn’t believe the words that someone had just said. The problem with that look is it only ever conveyed his shock, she could never tell what other emotions lay beneath the surface. He quickly spoke, and it was the most neutral she had ever heard him sound, “play my banjo?”

“We’ll never get that country album made if you refuse to play it in front of anybody.” She teased

“You really want to hear me play?” Reggie’s bright smile could not hide the disbelief that tinged his voice. 

“I mean you did tell me you could shred.” Julie smiled back, and fully leaned into the couch, “I might as well judge for myself after I hear pluck away at it.”

“Pick. You pick a banjo.” Reggie chuckled as his bass was replaced with a banjo. She nodded out apologies as he worked on tuning. “Got any requests?”

Julie hummed, “why don’t you surprise me?”

“All right, let me think.” His eyes were almost dancing with how they sparkled in delight. He started to pick away at the banjo as he thought and ambled around the studio.  Julie marveled at how similar it looked to when he was on his bass. She was sure there had to be different techniques involved but from an uneducated outsider's perspective the ways his fingers moved, the way he held himself, it made sense that he played both.

“I got it!” Reggie bounced back and sat on the table in front of her though he faced the piano more than he faced her. 

“Then let’s hear it, cowboy.” She almost snorted when he winked back at her, she definitely still shook her head.

Reggie’s improvisational picking shifted to carry more of a tune. Then he started to sing, “Almost heaven, West Virginia”

She bit back her gasp. She knew he could sing, she’d heard him plenty of times before. It didn’t change the fact that it was a different experience entirely in this set up. She tried not to think too hard about it and focused on enjoying the moment. She let the music wash over. 

As always he lost himself in the music. His body rocked back and forth and his feet tapped like he fought to stay sitting. When he broke out a small banjo solo halfway through the song, the two exchanged a quick smile and small laugh. He finished with a small bow as she applauded. 

“Wow Reggie” she cheered. He ducked his head, but he quickly returned to smiling at her. “That was really good.”

“Guess you better start working on learning that fiddle” He teased. Then laughed harder when she tried to push him off the table.

_________

Accepting prompts - Character Development Prompt Guide

JATP Fanfic Masterlist

[glitterquadricorn]

Travelin' Soldier - Jasper Hale (Day 9)

Summary: She meets a soldier going to war and it changes her life. Pairing: Jasper Hale x Reader Word Count: 1,554 Warning(s): mentions war, character death, etc. If I'm missing something, let me know.

Song Inspiration: Travelin' Soldier by The Chicks

"Never gonna hold the hand of another guy"

A/N: this is sort of an AU.

---

The bell above the entrance echoed through the cafe when he walked in. It was moderately busy, and he didn’t think he’d get an empty booth. He spotted one in the back corner of the room, walked over, and took a seat. It was then that he saw the walls were a brilliant pink, with posters from popular films adorning them. There were also photographs of renowned people that have been to the cafe.

“Hi! My name is y/n and I’ll be your server today! Are you ready to order?” she asked. When he looked up at her, he was stunned by her beauty. Her (y/h/c) was in a neat ponytail, held back by a bow with bangs hanging down onto her forehead. Skin was smooth and kissed by the sun. And a smile as bright as a diamond.

“Can you sit down a while and talk to me for a bit? I’m feeling a little low.”

“I’m afraid I can’t, but I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go.”

A short hour later, the two were walking a short distance to the pier. She would often go to the pier after work before heading home to listen to the waves crash along the shore. The sound always made her stress from her day melt away.

“I know a beautiful girl like you must have a boyfriend, but I have no one left. I don’t have anyone to send a letter to. And I was wondering if I could send one back to you?”

She placed her small hand in his much larger one. “First, I don’t have a boyfriend. My parents, especially my dad, would scold me for having a boyfriend. Probably even talking to one might get me in trouble.” She smiled. “But as for you having no one to send a letter to, you have somebody. Me. I’d love for you to send a letter to me.”

“I know we just met, but can I kiss you?”

“Someone is feeling rather bold, but yes, you certainly can.”

Their faces inched closer, and their lips met. As cheesy and cliche as it was, she felt sparks. When they pulled away from each other, she put a hand over her chest; Her heart was fluttering like a butterfly. Was she experiencing a thing called love at first sight? Surely that wasn't a thing, right? Soon, they found themselves back at the bench in front of the cafe. He could see the bus coming down the street.

“Thank you.” he said, as the bus stopped in front of the bench. Standing up, he kissed her on the cheek before getting on the bus.

“It's the least I can do, since you have no one.”

As the bus took off, she waved him goodbye. An emptiness filled her chest as the bus disappeared around the corner. Who knows when she'll see him again, or if she’ll ever see him again. Several weeks later, when she got home from work, her mother handed her a letter. When she saw who it was from, she got excited and eagerly tore the envelope open.

Dear y/n,

Hello! How are you? I’m doing rather well. Before arriving, I was nervous, scared of how things would be. Turns out, I had nothing to worry about. I like-no, love all the things I was terrified of. It makes me feel important. Like, I’m doing something good for my country, you know?

And you’ll never guess where I am. I’m in California! I’ve never been there before. The weather here is so much better than in Washington. The sun is almost always out, and it’s practically warm all the time. I love it! I wish you can be here with me. Maybe when I come home, you and I can take a trip out here.

Love,

Jasper

The smile on her face went from ear to ear, which alerted her mother.

“Who has my baby girl smiling like that?” Her mother asked.

She hesitated, debating telling her mother she met someone. “No one.”

“Really? Considering that you’re blushing redder than the strawberries we have in the garden, I’d say it was a boy.”

“And if it is?”

“You know better than to be wasting time on a boy. You need to be focusing on work and school.”

“Yes mother, I know, but he was being sent off to war, and he had no one here at home. And I can’t in good conscience leave a soldier hanging like that.”

She stormed off to her room, sitting at her desk, re-reading the letter Jasper sent. Grabbing a pen and some paper, she wrote a letter back.

Dear Jasper,

Hey! I’m doing great. Better now that you’ve finally sent me a letter. And that feeling of being nervous and scared is to be expected. No one truly goes into anything, much less war, feeling confident. They may say, ‘everything will be okay, and I’ll survive’ repeatedly in their heads until they believe it and who knows, maybe it will be okay, and they’ll survive. What I’m trying to say is that people may portray themselves as being confident on the outside, but deep down, they’re just as nervous and scared as you are, and that’s okay.

California? I’m so jealous. I’ve never been there either. And as far as the weather goes, anywhere is better than Washington. I love Washington, but it's always cold, wet and depressing. There's rarely a day of sunshine. It's awful. I wish I could be there with you, too. A trip out to the golden state of California sounds lovely. I can’t wait.

Love,

Y/n.

She sprayed her floral perfume on the letter before folding it up and sticking it in an envelope, licking it closed. Y/n sent it off the following morning before heading to work. It would take several more weeks before she got another letter from Jasper.

Dear y/n,

They deployed me out to Vietnam. Not to alarm you, but things over here are getting rough. And I’m trying to remain positive, but it’s hard. I watched several of my brothers die in front of me. These guys have wives, children, and family back home and they won’t return to them alive. I don’t want to die. I want to come home to you.

The only thing that’s getting me through the tough times is the day I left. It was you and I at the pier, listening to the waves and seagulls squawk above. I looked over at you and your smile instantly made me feel better. You’re something special, y/n. Let no one tell you otherwise.

But there’s something you should know. With things being rough as they are, I won’t be able to write to you for a while. Don’t worry though, I’ll be okay.

Love,

Jasper.

She was working, cleaning off a table when her boss came up to her. “Hey there’s some man in an army uniform asking for you.”

“Did they say what they wanted?”

“No. All they said was that they needed to talk to you.”

Her curiosity peaked. Why would someone from the army need to talk to her? Unless… A feeling of dread washed over her. Several scenarios went through her mind, none of them good. She hoped nothing was seriously wrong with Jasper.

When walking into her boss’ office, a tall man wearing a green uniform stood. Turning, “Are you y/n?”

She shook the man’s hand. “Yes, that’s me. What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“I’m afraid Jasper Hale has been killed in action-”

The buzzing sound in her ears drowned the man out as she fell to the floor, and a loud, high-pitch cry ripped from her chest. Her boss joined her on the floor, trying to coax her up, but she wasn’t budging. She couldn’t believe the man she got to know over the past few months was gone. That same feeling of emptiness that she felt all those months ago when Jasper left returned. And to be honest, she didn't think it would go away.

“Honey, what are you doing home so early?” Her mother asked. When y/n didn’t answer, she knew something had to have happened. Her daughter loved to talk. She’d talk your ear off if you’d let her.

“He’s gone. Just like that.”

“Who’s gone? It's not that boy, is it? What did I tell you about him?”

“Jasper. His name is Jasper,” she growled. “And I don’t care what you’ve said about him. He was killed in action, momma. He’s gone and I won’t get to see him ever again. I- I loved him.”

“You’re too young to know what love is.”

“I watched you and pa every day for the past sixteen years, and from what I’ve seen, I know what love looks like because Jasper looked at me the same way. I’m never gonna hold the hand of another guy.”

Her mother stood in silence, stunned by her daughter’s words. When she had nothing to say, y/n went to her room, slamming the door shut. Y/n knew in the short time they had together that it was something special. She’d never forget him. He’ll forever hold a special spot in her heart.

---

8 days until Christmas

Tagging(permanent):

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @sergeantjbuckybarnes @patzammit @yagirlmexic @awkwardfangirl2014 @beckieandhertardis @tinycyberhacker @streetghostfighter07 @distant-illusions @alisoncdariel @1awesomeash @nocturnalherb16 @thisismysecrethappyplace @rainysuitcaseprunegiant @geeksareunique @stressedandbandobessed7771 @xshinytrashcanx @1950schick @finallyforgotten @keenmarvellover @inkybird @heshewumbo11 @shadow-dixon @mrspeacem1nusone @augustvandyne @harleyquinnpuddin @drayshadow @rue-cimon

[elvenferretots]

How do you manage having a dog and a ferret? I have had ferrets for years, and my family always had dogs, too, but now that I've moved out, I am hoping to get my own dog. I'm just not sure what sort of arrangement makes sense (my current ferret has free roam of my bedroom day and night, but I'd worry about a big dog who might step on her if they both sleep in my room!) Or is it just not realistic to have both without a separate ferret room/putting her in her cage overnight?

Hi, anon! Sorry for the long pause; life and responsibilities have been hectic, and I've been terrible with keeping up with Tumblr.

I've answered similar before, but had no luck finding the post, so here goes. I always say owning a dog and a ferret is very like owning a dog and a very small kitten. It's viable for both predators to get along swimmingly in your house, but it's also a reality that your bigger predator might see the smaller one as prey. I have three pieces of advice for this.

Pick your breed carefully! I honestly don't recommend trusting dogs bred for high prey drive with ferrets. Some individuals can succeed, but many fail even after living peacefully for months or years with smaller animals. Low prey drive is ideal. Moderate can work if you're willing to put in the training and management. Toy breed dogs with low prey drive are a dream as long as the ferret is appropriate.

Start young! I prefer to start dogs AND ferrets young on exposure to safe members of the other species. But if you can at least start with a puppy, do so! It makes training so much easier for both parties.

Be consistent with training and boundaries! Personally, I mostly advocate for the ferret. Puppy and ferret start on opposite sides of a gate, then with puppy dragging a leash, then with both supervised. Dogs aren't allowed to chase, slap, or bite ferrets, even in play. Play must be gentle and appropriate from both parties. If either party is being rude, the offender is corrected and redirected. I'll encourage large dogs to lay down or at least play bow before engaging the ferret. Ferrets aren't allowed to bite, steal from, or surprise/ambush the dog. Leave it and Place cues are your friend. Make sure both have a cage or crate to eat privately with door closed to prevent resource guarding (although having them take turns receiving the same kind of treat can be a good bonding activity if done carefully).

If you have a puppy, your ferret can free roam at night while puppy sleeps in the crate. By the time puppy is old enough to graduate from the crate, they'll also be far enough along to judge reliability around the ferret. I personally don't trust my dogs unsupervised around other household pets until they've been reliable around them for at least 1-2 years, which is, incidentally, also how long I wait to trust them loose unsupervised in general.

Hopefully that helps! If I can answer anything else, my ask box is always open. TenSoon, Pantalaimon, and I wish you best of luck!

[stiltonbasket]

(Is this where you submit prompts? I really dont know ^^💧) Prompt for the renouncement au: I don’t know why i love when gossip is involved, so maybe something about people’s opinions on wangxian’s marriage and how it slowly changes to a better perspective to the point that anyone who doubts their feelings for each other gets immediately shut down. And you could add some juniors shenanigans to make wangxian have that good of a reputation because i miss them </3. Thank you for your time and effort! (And sorry if this is not the place for the prompts, i will submit it again if you say so ^^’ )

(author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

Lan Siyong considers himself one of the more moderate elders among the Lan sect. 

He has been close friends with Lan Qiren from childhood, and he saw Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji grow up into the fine, upstanding men they are today. When the two of them were boys, he even had fond thoughts of attending their weddings, and watching them take on the most sacred of duties with glad, willing hearts. 

Learning that Xichen would never wed had been a disappointment, but Lan Siyong rallied again when Lan Qiren confided the reason why the boy rejected marriage—chastity in an upstanding cultivator was to be lauded, especially in an age where Jin Guangshan had once demanded such high respect, and there could still be children born to Lan Huan if he decided to cultivate them. And of course, Wangji was there, and Lan Siyong knew from the first that he would be the kind of youth to fall in love deeply, at first sight, and remain passionately devoted to his mingding zhiren until he drew his last breath. 

But then Lan Siyong had Wangji’s own sword turned upon him at the Burial Mounds, because the one that his many-times distant nephew loved so dearly was none other than Wei Wuxian. 

“Qiren,” he says hoarsely, when the lotus-scented wedding invitations arrive from Lotus Pier. “You cannot let this happen—an unrighteous cultivator, one who spurned orthodoxy without remorse and led Wangji down such a dangerous path—”

“What has been done has been done,” Lan Qiren replies. “We have sent the bridewealth, and the marriage was contracted between Xichen and Jiang-zongzhu. All their terms have been agreed upon, and the date set.”

And then, after a brief pause: “He makes Wangji happy.”

Lan Siyong nearly cries. He does not attend the wedding, for fear of shaming Wangji with the open despair that appears on his face whenever he sees Wei Wuxian, and sends the newlywed couple the most expensive gift he can afford in an effort to do something useful. 

Wei Wuxian is the one who writes him a letter in thanks. Lan Siyong almost has a qi deviation.

__

“You know,” one of the other elders mutters after the second wedding ceremony: namely, the ceremony held in the Cloud Recesses, since Jiang-zongzhu demanded that his brother should be married at Lotus Pier first. “Wei Wuxian refused to have a blessing for children spoken at the an chuang ceremony.”

“Gossip is forbidden,” Lan Haiyang says tranquilly. He stopped caring about practically everything after his son’s wife gave birth to the whirlwind that calls himself Lan Jingyi, so Lan Siyong has long since given up relying on him to fix any kind of sect turmoil. “And they already have two children. I have not seen a finer Lan disciple than Lan Sizhui in all my days.”

Lan Siyong is forced to concede this last. Wangji has two good children, even if the Yiling Patriarch is perhaps the most unsuitable person alive to raise them with him, and a couple’s choice to expand their family is up to them, and no others.

“He should at least have let the blessing be spoken, though.”

Lan Siyong does not disagree with this. Traditions are traditions, and surely even Wei Wuxian should know to respect them once in a while. 

__

“It’s worse than I thought,” Lan Siyong murmurs, on a summer afternoon about six weeks after Wangji’s wedding. He passed Haiyang’s grandson and his friends on his way to the refectory that morning, and heard them discussing how heartbroken Wangji had looked upon hearing that Wei Wuxian did not return his love. “I ought not to have eavesdropped, but—poor Wangji!”

“Poor Wangji what?” Lan Haiyang asks, as if their little Lan Zhan being in trouble was all in another day’s work to him. “What’s happened to him now?”

“Wei Wuxian disavows Wangji’s love at every opportunity,” he replies dismally, going over to the refreshment table to drown his woes in chestnut cake and tea. “I fear for him, Haiyang. To love for so long, and to wed his beloved, and have children with him, and still…”

Lan Haiyang snorts into his tea. 

“What do you mean by that?” demands Lan Siyong, more than a little offended. “Wangji is in distress! We must do something!”

His friend does not reply. Honestly, it’s as if no one remembers what Wangji suffered for Wei Wuxian’s sake. Lan Siyong even tries raising the issue with Lan Qiren, and then with Xichen, but all he gets in return for his pains is a tray of fresh-baked red bean buns from the hanshi and another cryptic comment about Wangji’s supposed happiness from Qiren. 

Yet again, he is forced to leave his worries for another day, and try his best to follow rule three thousand, one hundred and sixty-two: that the affairs of a married couple should not be discussed by outsiders, even if they happen to be close, concerned family. 

Lan Siyong thinks his hair might be turning white by now.

__

And then, in early winter, Lan Siyong is roused from his bed one night and told that Wei Wuxian has gone missing. He joins the search party that Wangji leads, and follows him to a dark house in the woods with the Ghost General leading the way—and then he watches as Wangji kills at least a dozen men in an effort to reach his husband, whom they find unconscious in a cave beneath the house with corpse bites dotting every visible inch of his skin.

Lan Siyong nearly weeps as he hears Wangji’s desperate whispers to his beloved on the way back to Gusu, and watches him hold Wei Wuxian close while refusing help from anyone who offers.

Let him live, Lan Siyong prays silently, when Wei Wuxian is carried into the infirmary with Wangji at his side. Please, for Wangji’s sake, let Wei-gongzi live. 

__

“Qiren?”

A few days after the news about Wangji’s soon-to-be-born daughter is made public (public being a subjective word, since ceremony preceding the birth of a third child is unnecessary, and Wei Wuxian had said that he would rather wait until the baby arrives to make a formal announcement) Lan Siyong discovers Lan Qiren in one of the common rooms, sitting at a writing desk with his head buried in his hands. It’s a strange thing to see his friend do, since Lan Qiren has not looked so distressed since those three dark years after Wangji’s sentencing, and he hardly even looks up when Lan Siyong lays a hand on his shoulder. 

“It was just four weeks ago that Wei Ying was kidnapped and confined in that dungeon,” Lan Qiren says blankly, after he registers Lan Siyong’s presence and turns around to greet him. “If he—oh, heavens—”

Two weeks later, Lan Siyong requests a week’s leave from teaching to attend the trials of Wei Wuxian’s kidnappers, who are being held under Nie-zongzhu’s jurisdiction in the Unclean Realm. He has always believed himself to be a gentle man, but when the only sentences dealt are life imprisonment and execution, Lan Siyong’s heart is strangely devoid of any pity. All he can think of are the corpse bites he saw on Wei Wuxian’s face and throat, and a baby girl who nearly perished with her father before she had the chance to take her first breath. 

On his way back to the Cloud Recesses, he purchases a bolt of thick cream-colored silk with fine sky-blue embroidery and brings it to Wangji as a gift after the next monthly sect meeting.

“Xinhua-jun will need wider-cut robes before long,” he says, when his nephew gives him a curious glance before bowing low in thanks. “Zewu-jun has told us all that he and the child are in good health, and that the little one is growing well. All of our good wishes go with them both, and we pray that you should not hesitate to rely on us in the months to come if it should be needed.”

Wangji’s eyes go soft. “Thank you, San-shushu. It is much appreciated.”

__

Lan Siyong gets his first chance to hold Wei Shuilan at the baby’s full-moon ceremony, while Wangji and Wei Wuxian are running back and forth through the banquet hall to greet the arriving guests, and seize the first trusted elder they can reach to watch little A-Lan for a moment. At first, Lan Siyong merely stands by her cradle to keep an eye on her, but then she seems to sense her parents’ absence, so he picks her up and jogs her up and down to keep her from crying; and then he begins to hum softly beside her tiny ear, soothing the baby back to sleep by the time Wei Wuxian returns. 

“My good Lan-bao,” Wei Wuxian croons, cradling the child to his chest before rearranging her crumpled swaddling clothes. “Such a good baobei, to take your nap even with so much going on! Just like your A-Die, thank goodness, and not like your A-Niang.”

Curious, Lan Siyong clears his throat. “What do you mean, Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian laughs. “I never sleep properly at night, but Lan Zhan always falls asleep at hai shi, even if he isn’t in bed yet,” he says, with his voice so full of love for the newborn child in his arms and the husband who gave her to him that Lan Siyong feels strangely humbled. “A-Lan’s just like him that way.”

At that moment, Wangji appears with a plate of cut fruit and lotus cake before presenting it to Wei Wuxian. “Here, Wei Ying. Give A-Lan to me, and eat your lunch.”

“Lunch?” Wei Wuxian asks, confused. “But we’re having the banquet in just an hour.”

“You have been having your luncheon at this time for the past six months,” Wangji says stubbornly. “I will not have you going hungry even for a minute, xingan.”

“Lan Zhan, sweetheart…”

Thank heaven they found each other again, Lan Siyong thinks, slipping away to find Lan Qiren with a rising lump of tears in his throat. I do not think anyone else could have ever made Wangji so happy.

[incorrect-quotes-from-she-ra]

Morning! I hope you don't mind if i give you yet another She-Ra thought I'm too damn lazy to post on my own. Also, it's long again. I WILL find that character limit some day.

So, we know the way Shadow Weaver raised Adora resulted, among other issues, in her being selfless to the point of self-sacrifice, which came to a climax in the Heart's failsafe business.

And it's been suggested that this was basically intentional on Shadow Weaver's part. Basically, selflessness is a very beneficial quality for others to have. My theory is that <b>her plan for Adora had always been specifically for her to someday use the failsafe and release all magic</b>.

(i will admit i am also curious how formatting works in this app. thank you for your help with these experiments)

So, evidence. Let's start with her name. I know this is a remake and they were stuck with the existing names, but there's a scene where Scorpia complains about it ("yeah i GET it, everyone LOVES you"), which constitutes the writers acknowledging its meaning, which makes me think it's fair game to analyze.

First, I'm obviously assuming Shadow Weaver choose it, as part of her ongoing parenting plan. It's also possible it was her original First One-given name, we don't know. Neither quite works because either she or Light Hope should have had some issues knowing what the name was and they clearly knew automatically. Really the entire series is weird in that everyone communicates with everyone else way too easily, and i will definitely rant about that someday.

For now let it stand that Shadow Weaver is the parent figure, it makes the most sense for her to pick the name, both in-universe and narratively, so i shall assume so by default. I have two things to say about that choice.

First, as we all have noticed, most of the princesses have names ending in -a. All of them, if you count "Glimma". It's never said to be intentional, but it would make sense. And then IF such a tradition exists among Etheria's royalty, it's not unreasonable for Shadow Weaver, a notable and moderately respected member of the land of knowledge, to know about it.

And then if she knew, of course she would take it into consideration when looking for names. Admittedly it's a little weird with the anti-Princess propaganda that the Horde has, but she doesn't really need to explain or justify this. Hordak has a very [i]laissez-faire[/i] attitude, and everyone else she clearly doesn't care about.

And if she knew or suspected that the princesses' powers were related to the Heart of Etheria, which i will argue for later, then giving her a princessy name is also adequately ironic.

The second name bit is that Scorpia clearly knows some Latin, but not enough. True, <em>adorare</em> means to worship and/or to love, but Latin verbs are more complex than that. _Adora_ specifically is 3rd person singular present indicative active. The translation would be "she loves".

Names aside, i want to talk about how they (we) learned about the Heart of Etheria. Castaspella doesn't know what to do, Shadow Weaver suggests they take a road trip to research, which she's reticent about but concedes is probably the best use of her time, and they find success. We don't know how long it took them, but i had the distinct impression that it wasn't very long.

Naturally, I'm suggesting Shadow Weaver knew all along, and led Castaspella on the trip to have an excuse for the inevitable "how do you know?". Also tricked her into thinking it was /her/ discovery, and maybe even that she was succeeding where Shadow Weaver had failed before, if necessary.

That's why she's so excited to share their results with everybody, and Shadow Weaver cuts her off, apparently just to antagonize her for fun, but I'm suggesting it was also because for her this is the culmination of a decades-long plan, and she wants to Get On With It.

It's also interesting that there was a mural depicting the Spell of Obtainment in the hallway leading to the failsafe. It was a reminder of Shadow Weaver's past, and an opportunity for her to show she regrets her results but doesn't repent from her choices, which i quite like actually. But I'm also saying that, meta-textually, it was a signal that she'd been there before, literally.

And then there is the potential in-universe connection, since we don't know what exactly the spell was meant to be obtaining. Power, for sure, and from what happened we're probably meant to assume it's tapping into some sort of demonic entity or dimension.

Fair enough, except that it never comes up again. And it's kind of a big plot point that Etheria is isolated from the rest of the cosmos, which may or may not conflict with it having a contactable "hell". Meanwhile there's the Heart of Etheria Project collecting all that magic, which Mara's allies (and their descendants) would know something about, have access to at least one backdoor to, and may well have tried to tap into its power at some point.

And then what went wrong may well be one of the defense mechanisms of the Project, though I'm admittedly veering into unfounded speculation.

So, a rough timeline. Light Spinner was always motivated to excel and craved power. She was probably always envied the princesses, who command greater magic than most sorcerers with apparently none of the study and practice.

She took to researching everything she could that might lead to power, eventually discovering the chamber with the failsafe, and presumably other information left by Mara's Friends, either in other chambers or in documents she's since removed. She would have learned a lot of things from this.

As i suggested, i believe she knew there's some connection between the princesses at large and the Heart of Etheria. Incidentally, i don't know exactly what that connection is, and in particular whether princesses were created by the Project or an existing phenomenon that the First Ones co-opted. But it doesn't matter, exactly.

What's important is that there's clearly a connection, more specifically a control system for the princesses and their magic, which is presumably related to how Shadow Weaver was able to tap into the Black Garnet's power. With Hordak's help, obviously, since she clearly believed it when he claimed he could cut her off at will, but he's later shown to have basically no understanding of First Ones' tech, so the knowledge must have come from her.

For the record, i would guess she thinks princesses are artificial, empowered both magically and politically to keep the planet in check, and that they would be depowered once the failsafe was fired. I also think that may be true, actually, since it almost happened when Entrapta was messing with the system, and if i recall none of them were shown to use any magic after Adora did fire it, while she clearly used Perfuma's power. But anyways!

Back to what Shadow Weaver learned, she would know some of what the failsafe does, namely disrupt the system that's hoarding most of the planet's magic, thereby spreading magic to all (most notably her), and some of how to use it, and the fact that she couldn't do so and hope to live, and some of the criteria for who can. That part is important.

But first, she also learned the Spell of Obtainment, deemed it more likely but didn't think she could do it herself, despaired of getting help until she thought Hordak's rise to fame would give her #casus belli#, lost her patience when the Mystacor leadership disagreed, etc etc etc. Pretty uncontroversial in this part, i think.

After she'd joined the Horde, when Hordak showed up with baby Adora and wanted to lump her with the rest of the orphans they have, Shadow Weaver pleaded to have her get special treatment. She even said that she's special, and it couldn't have been her leadership skills or good heart, since she didn't have either yet. It's heavily implied she could recognize her as a First One, but it's not clear why she would care, since they were known for leaving behind advanced technology, which a baby also doesn't have. Unless, of course, she knew there are devices only a First One could use, and maybe has plans related to that.

So I'm pretty sure she learned the criteria that the failsafe requires, devised some spell or technique to check people for them that she pretty much used all the time, just in case, and was very surprised when a newborn tested positive. She was also surprised when Hordak made her personally responsible for the raising of the kid, but her reaction is pretty much "ok, that could work, i guess".

Also also, i suspect she can read First One script. Not perfectly like Adora, but better than Bow's parents probably. Mostly because when she puts Adora's hand on the crystal and says "i think you know the password", that seems like a very transparent attempt to pretend she knows it too when she doesn't. But that seems irresponsible at such a crucial moment, she and Castaspella should really have researched it earlier. Or at least her line there should have been "you can read this, right?" or somesuch.

So I'm thinking it's a double bluff, hoping everybody assumes she doesn't know so she doesn't have to reveal how and why she knows, again.

And that's all i have, i think? This is not nearly as well laid out as i would like. But then, nothing ever is, right?

Also it's not even close to morning anymore. Thank you if you even got this far, and have a good evening!

hi!!! this took me a while to answer, i'm so sorry about that <3

i'm very low on energy today so i cannot summon up the brain energy to respond properly to this, as much as i want to, i'm really sorry for that as well

i love this theory!! it actually fits in really well with canon and makes, like, a LOT of sense now that i think about it. i definitely wouldn't have thought of this on my own, so thank you for sharing this with me!! :D

[toshis-switch]

judge my sins | oikawa tooru x reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: very suggestive but nothing explicit (implied femdom/sub!oikawa), fem!reader, royalty!au (prince oikawa and advisor y/n), infidelity, the reader is mean to his wife after his wife draws a knife on him lmaooo, cursing

i drew inspiration from his wife from m-word in @noya-sleftankle's poker face so if u want to imagine it as her be my guest

reblogs/replies are much appreciated esp with some feedback/comments!! <3 please take care of yourselves, take your meds, drink some water, have a snack or go to sleep :)

you know, that at the end of the night, that it’s you he’ll be thinking about, and you take that, using it to your advantage.

you are dressed to the nines, the long ball gown you adorn reaching the floor, yet the tasteful slit exposes more skin than usual. people try to talk you up, but you have, really, one true reason for being at the ball tonight. prince oikawa would stay in the palm of your hand whether he wanted to be there or not.

alas, he enters the ballroom with his betrothed, a girl from a neighboring kingdom, and wouldn’t know the difference between her left and right foot even if you told her. too arrogant for her own good despite having nothing to offer the world, she thinks that all of the eyes will be trained on her, when in reality, no one spares more than a millisecond in glancing in her direction, her fiancee included.

what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, though. and it’s not like she knows much at all.

you are the prince’s royal advisor, his right hand, the brains behind the operation.

the person whose name he moans at night. that’s you, no one else.

he makes his rounds with the ditzy girl glued to his arm, and when he reaches you, you sense the surprise at your gown and how you look exactly like the seductress he dreams of. you know him enough to notice how his gaze shifts for a millisecond before plastering on a fake smile.

“advisor y/l/n.”

you curtsy to both of them, but your body is mainly angled towards him, the action allowing him to sneak a peek under your low cut gown. you know he glances at it; after all, you are his, as he is yours.

“good evening, your highnesses. lovely to see you as well.” you smooth out your dress. “i hope you enjoy yourselves at the ball.”

“yes, this is wonderful,” he murmurs. “i hope to catch you for a waltz.”

“whatever pleases you, sir, i am obliged to follow.”

it’s ironic, the titles you use for him in public, knowing that the roles absolutely reverse behind closed doors. you are too alluring for him not to submit to. it’s a tragedy that you were not born into royalty, but at this point, he thanks the heavens that he still gets to feel your skin against his.

he and the princess walk away from you, though he spares you a glance over his shoulder as you take a sip from your flute of champagne.

the music starts, and it’s a slightly uptempo, but still moderately timed waltz. one of the princes from a neighboring kingdom (though, in some fashion, a rival one as well) takes you for a spin around the ballroom, the attention of the crowd in between the two of you and the crowned prince himself.

“prince sugawara, you had never told me that you were such a good dancer. i would have danced with you much sooner had i known.” you smirked at him.

“all things come in their time,” he teases back. “besides, most of the kingdom is watching the both of us. tonight is the biggest ball of the year, after all.”

“yes,” you affirm. “perhaps you’re not so bad after all, your highness.” you smile at him. you continue to dance for two more songs, before tooru decides that, yes, he had enough of seeing you with him.

“may i have a dance?” tooru murmurs. he ignores his betrothed's glare at the both of you, obviously wanting his attention. “prince sugawara.”

“prince oikawa.” sugawara nods. “wonderful ball we have here this evening.”

“yes, advisor y/l/n planned most of it, it ought to be good.” tooru nods at sugawara. “but i’m confident that you know that.”

“yes,” sugawara smirks. “wonderful job, advisor.”

“they are a fine asset to our kingdom.” tooru affirms. “let us go, advisor?”

“yes, your highness.” you go to take his arm, but sugawara, never one to miss a chance to mess with the other prince, pulls you towards him, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“i suspect some thanks is in order for that. alas, i simply wanted to see how our little prince fairs when i spend time with what is his.”

you pull him towards you, whispering in his ear that he is just as much yours as you are his, and that tooru knows that as well.

you curtsy towards sugawara, bidding him a good evening, before making your way back towards tooru, who has a scowl on his face.

“i don’t like to be kept waiting,” he says, taking you for a spin around the ballroom as the same waltz begins again.

“i know how impatient you are, my prince, but you need to wipe that scowl off of your face.” you squeeze his hand, hoping that your touch will make him ease up. it does, though just by a tad.

“are we still meeting tonight?”

“if you would like, my prince. my chambers are always open to you, after all.”

“about three quarters of the hour after the ball ends, i will be there.” he guides you for a spin, then moving you into a dip.

“careful there, your highness,” you smirk at him as he pulls you back upright. “you wouldn’t want anyone seeing more of me than you have, would you now, darling?”

“simply giving them a look at what they can’t have, love. fret not, for i am as much yours as you are mine, yes?”

“of course, your highness.”

never one to break a promise, tooru meets you at your quarters, and as your hand wraps around his neck while he fucks you, the red marks that will be left on his otherwise untainted skin will remind him that it is you he loves.

the next morning, after he slips away to retreat back to his betrothed, you kneel on the side of your bed to pray for forgiveness, and that whatever deity listens to your pleas knows not to judge you for your sins but for the contents of your heart.

what you also know, though, is that this won’t be the last time you’ll be praying for forgiveness. after all, it hasn’t stopped you from taking him again and again, has it?

as tooru’s wedding to the princess draws closer, though, you see him less and less. it doesn’t stop altogether, not until the day he is married. and after watching the prince get married to the princess, you let him pull you aside at the ball that follows.

“i’m afraid i cannot continue our situation, advisor.”

though this day was inevitable, you were still a bit taken aback and hurt. you shake it off, and smile at him.

“of course, sir. if you excuse me, i’d like to adjourn myself from the ball. i have some business with the neighboring kingdom.”

he raises an eyebrow at you. “what is it?”

“just some trade agreements to get in order with the prince. nothing out of the ordinary, i should be back by dawn tomorrow.”

oikawa clears his throat. “will you be seeing prince sugawara?”

“i may run into him, yes.” you fight to hide back a smirk. “we have some things to catch up on.” you curtsy to him. “if you excuse me, your bride is looking quite helpless over there. you must, uh, deal with that, i assume?”

he sighs as she struggles to walk in her big dress (one that she had, no doubt, chosen for herself) and runs to her aid with a plastic smile on his face. you duck out, sighing, but you also know he’ll come back. and you were never one to be wrong.

you could recognize his quick raps upon your wooden door any day, but you are alarmed, knowing that the guards must know that he is at your door. you open it for him, not having slept due to the fact that you had just gotten out of your bath.

he steps through the door without invitation. “good evening.”

you raise a brow at him. “very rude of you to intrude, sire. what is it?”

he turns to face you. “you know what i want.”

“tell me.” you don’t miss a beat, never one to let yourself be taken by surprise or seen vulnerable.

he takes a step closer to you. “you already know. i don’t want it to seem that i think less of you and have to say what is in between the lines.”

you smirk, looking at him in disdain. “spell it out for me, tooru. tell me how i am the only one that you want, that i’m the only one that can satisfy you, and that you belong to me.”

“no.”

“fine.” you motion towards the door with your eyes and a quirk of your head. “get out.”

“i am your king-”

“and what am i? who am i?”

the air is silent, poised with words unsaid and memories of the unholy things.

“you…” he takes another step closer to you. he caresses your cheek as you feel your back press against the cold stone wall of your palace chambers, but you both know who remains in control.

you’d never thought a king would kneel in front of you, especially in your own chambers, but he is on his knees, his head bowed like you were a deity sent to be in his presence, like he was unworthy to serve you, let alone be in your presence.

“you are the person who owns me, body, heart, mind and soul.” he murmurs to you. “and i am but your humble servant.”

“good. up, tooru.”

god, he was addicted to the way you said his name.

“be good for me.”

not once is he not touching your body that night, whether it be his hips, fingers, or tongue flush against your skin. it brings him to tears, the amount of pleasure he gets from just being around you. it astounds him, baffles him, even, how much power you have over him, but it’s where he feels the most alive.

when he is in your arms, fast asleep, you stare at the ceiling, asking the gods to judge your sins—you’re no longer afraid of what they could put against you.

you love him, after all.

his wife corners you the next day. you’re not surprised, considering her aggression and possessive nature. the kingdom may not see past her facade, but you see firsthand her monstrosity of a personality.

“what did you do with him?” she says, holding a dagger to your neck. you roll her eyes at her cheesy antics.

“you know what i did to him.” you smirk at her. “go ahead. put that knife in my neck. and never feel his touch ever again.”

her glare falters, her grip on her dagger loosening, and you take it out of her grasp.

“he will never need you like he needs me, never want you like he wants me, and never fuck you like he fucks me. you are disposable, and you will never be his.” you take her dagger with you as you walk to the other side of the castle to attend a meeting, but not before she attempts to tackle you. you merely take a step to the side as she faceplants on the floor. you look down at her desperation, wanting to make her plead.

“please…” she murmurs helplessly. “no more.”

you lean towards her on the ground.

a simple word of dissent falls from your lips as her tears begin to cascade.

“why?”

“because i can’t give away what’s mine, can i?”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO “Evidence.”

Still working on the trial arc, and sorry I am late in posting. I had to go to work at seven and am trying to write in between helping guests. 

CREDIT and a THANK YOU to one of my amazing discord community members Eddi, who has been working for the last few months on the audio visual and transcript logs seen here. I did not write them, Eddi wrote them an was kind enough to let me use them in this story. I loved it and thought it brought a lot of authenticity to the story by bringing in an outside voice. 

WARNING: GRAPHIC blood, gore, and bodily mutilation. The Steel eye project development is VERY horrible, so don’t read if that is something that bothers you. 

It was a beautiful day.

The sky was a bright eggshell blue stratified with only the occasional cirrus cloud highlighting the sky with a touch of distant white. The sun was bright though the temperature was moderate only in the mid eighties.

Swimmers could be seen as distant pinpoints of light and froth on the surface of lake Geneva. Voices echoed up from the city coerced mostly by the purring of hover-car engines.

Towering white buildings rose high into the sky adding height instead of width to a city that had not grown outside its own borders for the past thousand years other than to go up.

Itw as a more environmentally efficient way to build, and left the countryside untouched by the scars of infrastructure and humanity.

Adam stared out the window for a long moment wishing for the peaceful embrace of the skies and the roaring of a jet engine. A soft whimper at his leg, and he looked down to see Waffles sitting at his heel, her head tilted back to look up at him. WHen he didn’t immediately respond to her she whined again and scooted closer, her paws making soft clicking sounds on the wood flooring below.

Finally he reached down and scratched her behind the ears.

She could sense his agitation, and it was clear that she didn’t much like it.

He couldn’t blame her.

He didn’t like it either. He sighed and turned his head away from the do and he window, back to the mirror in front of which he now stood. He didn’t see himself.

The man in the mirror was tall, straight backed with sharply trimmed and styled hair, jaw squared and raised. Both eyes were green though one expanded and contracted like the appriture of a camera. The expression on the man’s face was stern and unyielding.

He looked…. Like his father.

He had never seen much of a resemblance between them, but now he could certainly see it.

It didn’t help that the stars on his uniform seemed to add an extra ten years to his age.

With a soft sigh, he pulled his captain’s cap down snuggly onto his head and whistled low for his dog.

She fell into a perfect heel at his side, and he clipped the leash onto her colla.

Her black service vest was strapped on tight with a pair of doggie saddlebags on either side carrying water bottles. Waffles always liked having a job to do, and a little extra work would help to keep her relaxed during the trial rather than antsy.

She was going to have to stay very still for a very long time for the next few days.

“Ready girl.”

Her tail thumped against the floor at his voice.

“At least that makes one of us.”

He transferred her elash to his left end, though he didn’t technically need it, and led her out of the bedroom and into the large living room. It was a lot of hotel room for just one man. He would have been fine enough with a double queen personally, but he supposed if the UNSC was paying there was no reason to argue otherwise.

It felt strange, going to a hotel on the UNSC’s Dime to testify against the UNSC in one of the biggest trials of the century.

His stomach churned.

Waffles nosed his hand.

Dr Krill floated down from his examination of the chandelier, “I admire human artistry, but pragmatism is still my preferred way of living.” he motioned around the room, “A bit opulent.”

Adam nodded his agreement, “You can say that again. I haven’t slept on a bed that big in my life.” In all honesty, he was trying to keep his mind off of what was to come. He didn’t really care about the bed and certainly didn’t know if he had ever slept in a bed that large.

He sort of doubted it, he was in the UNSC after all.

A knock came on the door and he turned reaching for the handle and pulling it open. The driver from yesterday was waiting for him, his suit pristine. He bowed slightly, “The car is waiting for you, sir.”

He nodded, and motioned the other man to lead the way.

The man nodded and thanked him, stepping down the hall and leading them down into the lobby. They got a lot of looks as they made their way down, most likely because of krill, though his uniform might have caught some attention.

He was led out towards the car and slid into the back seat, suddenly surprised to find that he wasn’t alone.

“Admiral Kelly!”

“Good morning, Adam.”

“What are you doing here.”

“I am here to witness the trial. UNSC representatives thought it would be best if some of the newer brass came to oversee proceedings.”

He quickly looked out the window, suddenly remembering which side of the conflict this was on.

A hand rested on his arm, “I’m not here to make you feel bad about your decision, Admiral. You’re doing what needs to be done.”

He sighed and nodded, “I… thank you ma’am.”

“You sure this is something you are ready for.”

He paused and then shook his head, “No… I’m not ready, and I never will be.” She went to open her mouth but he stopped her, “But I’m the only one we have, so I will do what it takes.”

The car went silent as it slowly accelerated into the early morning traffic.

It was going to be a very long day.

Admiral Kelly turned to look at Krill speaking with him quietly while Adam looked out the window.

He wasn’t in the mood for talking right now though he knew how odd that was.

His stomach continued to churn as they drove through the streets heading towards the outskirts of the city where the Geneva court had been built just over 200 years ago.

The last buildings on the outskirts of town  went by and their first view of the court appeared in the car window. It was made in the classic greco-roman style with large white pillars and sloped rooftop and carvings on the top that depicted all the deities of justice ever conceived by historial religion, all cast and depicted in marble.

The thoroughfare up to the building was long and wide with a decorative reflecting pool at the center and a set of daunting steps leading up to the ornate front doors.

The grounds were meticulously kept with hedges shrub and flowering bushes, with what must have been miles and miles of water features and fountains off to the side.

It was a beautiful location, and it seemed that visitors found it a nice spot to rest while they enjoyed touring the sites.

He didn’t see much in the beauty today.

This was the UN supreme court, and the history of Geneva made this place hallowed in ways that made the court case for today all the more poignant.

The car pulled to a stop before the doors and a few gloved attendants stepped forward sharply dressed and opened the doors with almost militaristic precision as Admiral Vir and Admiral Kelly stepped out.

Waffles followed at his heels

He knew as soon as he stepped onto the marble steps that he wanted to leave, an the only thing that kept him there was the memory of those faces…. All the people counting on him back at the house, all the people who had never been given a chance to recover like he had.

He took a deep breath and ford himself up the steps and towards the front doos where a group of people were already congregating.

There were a few reporters there, without cameras, waiting to attend in the audience and record the proceedings for their news stories and daytime television. A few of them snapped discrete photos of him as he passed and was led through the wide double doors into the expansive inner hallway with a beautifully muraled ceiling and a line of decorative plants down the side.

Voices echoed inside the building, rising up around him to bounce off the marble.

The voices themselves were indistinct and difficult to understand as he made his way further into the room.

Men in suits lined the walls.

He eyed them critically wondering if any of them happened to be the defence.

A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he quickly turned to eye another attendant, who had evidently been trying to get his attention, “Right this way sir.”

He nodded and was led through the halls and into a nearby antichamber.

A wand was passed over his body.

“Please hold out your arm , sir.”

He did as ordered and watched as his forearm implant was temporarily deactivated. 

“The room is completely radio proof, sir. No signals go in or out. If you must make a call, I urge you to take it during the court recess.”

“Understood.”

“Please step inside and sit on the second row on the right side behind the prosecution.

He did as ordered, and stepped into another wide curving room.

It was much bigger than he would have thought, two stories high with amphitheater seats, and a massive curving desk at the front where nine Geneva court judges would be seated on their entrance.

There was no jury.

The Geneva court judges would be the jury for trial at this time.

Law practices had changed a lot since world war III but there was still some semblance of the old ways that still lingered on.

He took his seat, waffles grumbling softly as he slid onto the ground beside him.

Two people in suits followed him inside one in a dark blue suit and brown shoes, the other in pinstriped balck.

The one in blue was a woman, dressed sharply, her hair pulled back into a bun so tight you could have strummed out a tune on the hairs. She paused next to Adam and held out a hand, “Admiral Vir, we spoke over the phone.”

“Ms. Trevor.”

She nodded and motioned to the man, “And my partner Mr. Jackson. I trust you understand your purpose here today?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Jackson lifted his head, “Our case here is solid, admiral. This case isn’t about who is going to be punished for what happened, but about how long they will be punished, not to mention it is likely to set up some new legislation for the ethical creation and use of military hardware. Once we are done, something like this is unlikely to ever happen again.”

He wasn’t entirely sure he believed that, but he nodded and let them take their seats in the desk before him.

Waffles whimpered and prodded at his hands with her nose.

He stroked a hand over her big pointed ears.

The courtroom filled up within the next hour, and, Looking across the room, he saw a line of men and women sitting on the second row of the defence. Something about them put him on edge.

He had a feeling they were the scientists.

They were the ones who had developed the steel eye armor.

“All rise! For the honorable Geneva court judges!”

The entire room took to their feet as the nine judges filed out of a back chamber and stepped onto the floor. All of them wore traditional black robes with white collars as had been tradition for nearly thousand of years. They took their seats with a mass shuffling.

“Please be seated.”

The room shuffled back into place.

The head judge,at the center of the table leaned forward.

“On this day June 24, 4024 we open the Geneva Court case of The People VS UNSC Biomechanics Division. the court will begin by hearing opening statements from the council.”

Council for the prosecution stood, shuffling her papers once before stepping up to the lectern.

“Honorable judges and members of the court, today we are here to present evidence against a faction of the UNSC scientific division for gross ethical violations, torture, and pruposeful endangerment of human life. Evidence suggests over 29 killed, over 21 critically injured, maimed, or permanently crippled, and over 61 with lasting mental trauma. This is not counting over 50 Steel eye soldiers coerced without prior knowledge, into participation in the program, 30 of which are now deceased 15 of which have lasting mental trauma, and five that, while functional, still feel the effects today. Today we will be presenting, written documents, video recordings, and audio files from prior testing as well as first hand witnesses of both the testing and the war as well as expert witness from the scientist who read and compiled the files before trial. What was done to these men and women constitute as war crimes and their victims deserve compensation and closure for what was done to them.”

She stepped back from the podium and nodded.

The defence stood and made their way to the podium in turn, “Your honors, and members of the court, while it is true that some unfortunate incidents happened during testing and development of the steel eye project, there is ample evidence to prove that none of these men or women were coerced against their will into participation. All subjects were volunteer and duly informed before proceedings began. Furthermore, scientific ethics had not advanced far enough at the time to cover weather or not what they were doing was an ethical violation. The Defence is not asking for complete vindication for the accused, but the sum of what happens is surely less than war crimes.” 

They took their seat.

Adam wasn’t a lawyer, but he knew which opening statement he liked more. Now maybe he was biased, but certainly he felt that one presented greater amounts of evidence than the other. Of course it was up to the prosecution to show evidence that would convince the judges, beyond a reasonable doubt, that these men and women were guilty.

He listened to some more speaking, half falling asleep and assuming maybe this would be as bad as he thought it would when one of the prosecution stepped back up to the podium.

“The prosecution presents time stamped dated and logged evidence to the court for consideration. The first testing log we wish to present is from the eighteenth of October 4016 and overseen by Dr. Tato Nkosi written as log number 23.” 

Experimental Log #023:

So far we have not experimented with a human subject, All the sample tests and simulations indicate that there should be no interference with normal function nor create any feedback loops that could induce seizures. This is the first human testing that we will be doing. We have noticed that the animal testing resulted in significant irritation and irrational behavour from the subjects, We however suspect this was because they were unawares of the reason for the implantations.

The subject is unconscious for the process of implantation to prevent movement. 

-recording break-

The subject reacted violently to the implant, removing it in a highly violent manner while screaming and trying to injure any nearby scientists. We expected some level of resistance, but this indicates far more sensitivity than expected. Further testing will be required.

“The council for the prosecution wishes to present the audio/visual log.” A light flickers on as a video clip begins reeling.

Audiovisual Log Transcript:

The subject wakes suddenly, seeming to be woken by extreme pain. Screaming almost instantly and scrabbling at implant on their hand and wrist. Subject seems to be attempting to remove the implant. One of the scientists attempts to calm the subject only to be beaten by the subject who continues screaming. The scientist retreats from the subject just as the subject finally removes the test implant by ripping it from the subjects skin, tearing with it the subjects local nervous system along with large sections of the subjects musculature and ligaments. Seeming relieved at the lack of contact with the implant, the subject sinks to its knees. The subject is losing significant amount of blood, though we suspect the subject is unaware of this as large sections of the nervous system is still attached to the implant. The subject appears to be in shock as it observes its ruined lower arm and hand. The subject has resumed screaming and is now trying to get the scientists attention to fix its ruined lower arm and hand. The subject is sedated and arm treated. The recording ends here. 

Adam throws a hand up over his face feeling bile rise into his mouth at the image seared into his brain. Muscle and ligament dangling uselessly against a steel eye prototype. He felt a bit lightheaded but takes a deep breath in and out to calm his breathing. All around the room there are gasps of shock and disgust. A few people stand to leave the room unable to witness any more.”

The council steps forward, “This was the first log in a recorded series of proceeding logs with similar effects. We know in experimentation that accidents happen all the time, and we might have considered forgiveness if the experimentation had stopped here. Clearly implementation on human test subjects was not ready, as evidenced by the animal’s discomfort. Perhaps if they had stopped here, some measure of understanding might have been allowed. But they continued past this point with full knowledge that this sort of catastrophic event could happen. This test subject will never regain full use of his hand. Instead of stopping the experiment like hey should, the scientists determined that the use of painkillers was in order to make the subject operational. For this the prosecution calls expert witness Dr. Alexander Gladstone to the witness stand.”

On the bench to his side, a man stands slicking back his salt and pepper hair as he moves to sit in the witness stand and is sworn in.

“Dr. Gladstone, tell us a little of your credentials.”

“Of course, I received my PHD in Biomechanical interface and Engineering as well as an additional PHD in Mechanised robotics. I have worked as the head scientist for the UNSC testing division for nearly five years now after my predecessor quit. I helped to re-engineer this project under Iron eye as a step forward from the Steel eye project in a more controlled and ethical environment. I am also the scientists who reviewed these logs and compiled them for analysis today.”

“Thank you Dr. Now, may I ask why these scientists would have chosen to implement a drug dosage?”

“To understand why they had to do this, you must also understand the steel eye project itself. Steel eye was designed to enhance the strength, speed and durability of the wearer. We already have exo suits designed for use in factory and industrial settings, however the main issue we run into in a combat setting is that the machine responds too slow. The nodes detect electrical impulses from the muscles and then have to fire following that meaning the subject has already begun moving almost seconds in advance of the machine. Steel eye was created to integrate the machine directly into the body to intercept nerve impulses before the muscles even fire, thus making the wearer faster, and the augment making them stronger. To do this you have to make a direct interface with the nervous system. They first implemented small microfivers which would wrap themselves around the nerves in question to detect electrical signals. These were designed to cluster primarily along the spine but have additional nodes in the major muscle groups. However, direct stimulation of a nerve or nerve cluster sends signals to the brai nthat are interpreted as…. Unbelievable agony, which is likely the agitation that they were seeing in the animal test subjects. However, with a high enough drug dosage, you can mitigate these effects, or distract the brain enough to keep the wearer functional for some time.”

He sat back in his seat.

“And in iron eye, how did you get around this problem?”

“Subdermal implants that do not require direct contact with the nerve endings themselves.”

“And does Iron eye cause any significant damage to the wearer?”

“No sir, the only danger is an infection of the implants, but that is with almost any implanted medical devise.”

“The subjects have no pain.”

“A general soreness that goes away within two to three days.”

“So in my understanding it is clear that there were alternatives to their original course of action. They could have pulled back and tried to implement a way to mitigate the pain rather than mask it with drug dosages?”

“Certainly.”

“But that isn’t what they did.”

“No.”

“The prosecution presents Transcript 27 to the court for viewing.” 

Experimental log #27:

We have begun testing various drugs to suppress the pain, this test is with acetaminophen, commonly referred to as Codeine. 

As per usual the subject was implanted while unconscious and atop this it was given a high dose of codeine prior to it awaking. 

-recording break-

It appears that while the subject was capable of withstanding the pain from the implant for a longer period of time than our previous subjects However the subject clearly seemed to suffer increasing mental instability as the sensations returned, culminating in the subject violently trying to destroy the implant. Learning from prior experiments and in an attempt to reduce harm to the scientists, the subject was left alone while it was in this state and no attempt was made to aid the subject.

Adam turned his head away unable to stomach what was coming next. His hands were sweating terribly. He felt cold and weak. He had seen horrible things in war and in his time, but watching this… .watching steel eye. It was just too much.

His mouth had gone dry, and his skin was hot as if he had a fever.

The dog nosed his hand but he barely acknowledged her.

Audio-visual log transcript:

The transcript begins once the Codeine begins to wear off. 

The subject begins by itching at the area around the implant, the reaction is far less violent than the prior subjects. After several minutes of ever more irritated scratching and aggressive tugging at the implant and plaintive noises the subject began to violently bash the implant against the wall. Growing ever more violent with the abuse of the implant. This continues till the test implant is mangled and ruined with the subject pulling the mangled chunks of metal off their skin, this however seems not to alleviate the subjects pain and irritation. This is likely due to the destruction of the implant not removing the interfacing needles The subject continued to scratch and pull at its skin, the plaintive noises slowly becoming screams of pain. This action continued without interruption from the scientists till the subject had torn most of the skin of its arm and taken chunks out of its musculature, the subject finally passed out from pain or blood loss after several minutes of self mutilation. 

The room spun around him, and he took a few long, deep breaths hoping that it would stop.

He wast sure he could survive another few hours of this.

He wasn’t sure at all 

[jungcity]

bane of the devil. | x

genre: romance, fantasy, erotica

pairings: vampire!jaehyun x college!female reader

words: 12k

warning: bane of the devil deals with themes of deaths, physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

“You can romanticize me all you wish, but the devil wrapped in silk is still the devil.” — A Word to My Lovers

“With all due respect, Juana, but are you like…” Jaehyun paused as he shifted casually on his seat, a cigarette bud adorning his fingertips. “... sick in the head?” he asked, finger pointing to his temple to visualize his insult towards the witch.

“Every hunter had done it! I don’t see any reason why Y/N must refuse,” taunted Eva, which earned her a solid look from Lucas who was sitting beside Jaehyun.

Jaehyun echoed a humorless laugh as he leaned back on his seat, casually reaching for your hand with his. Hands that you have learned how to love these past few months of being in the Academy. It was insane how a simple gesture could give you a lot of strength during this dreary time. Jaehyun has that impact on you.

When no one answered, Eva straightened her back and plastered you a smirk. “Besides, the ball is in a month. It’s only right to test Y/N’s abilities to know if she’s qualified to kill… Alena.”

Your heart made a jump. It’s been months since you’ve known that Eva knows your true intentions for coming to the Academy. But she was too bold to admit that now. Yet Juana didn’t even give her a warning look as she remained composed on her own seat. Lucas was the only one who kept judging Eva.

“So… the truth has been unveiled. You really do know my intentions,” you sarcastically stated. Since Juana lied to you, it wasn’t far-fetched to expect some apology.

But she only smiled, the endearing and youthful one that betrayed her deception of you. “Eva’s really talkative, don’t you think, Y/N?” she sighed, “But I hope you don’t mind me telling her about your plans. She’s my most trusted hunter alongside Lucas,” Juana pronounced while holding Eva’s arm.

What about the collateral damage? You wanted to ask, but you kept your mouth shut and flashed her your jovial smile instead. They think they’ve deceived you, little did they know that you were better than that.

“Of course, Madame. Eva has been good to me ever since, after all,” you said that with a lingering stare at Eva’s frame. Both of you held each other’s eyes for a minute before she looked away. An infinitesimal triumph, but triumph nonetheless.

“So… it is settled then? Next week, Y/N, be prepared—”

“No one’s preparing because she’s not doing it. You are a mad witch—”

You cut off Jaehyun before he gave way too much information and insult, “Next week, Madame.”

Jaehyun’s burning gaze bore into you, his blatant judgement about your decision evident in that pretty face of his. You stood up before a scream would erupt from your throat. Being in a room with these deceitful people felt as if poison clawing in your veins.

You pressed a palm on your chest and gave the witch a low bow before pivoting on your heels and walking away. Jaehyun’s reassuring presence followed behind you. As the door to Juana’s chambers closed, you let out a heavy sigh.

“What were you thinking?” Jaehyun snapped. “You are going in a suicide mission!”

Forcing yourself to be strong in front of the witch and her hunters have sapped all your energy. Treacherous tears threatened to fall from your eyes as you looked at Jaehyun. His hard gaze softened upon beholding your weakness that he quickly enveloped you into a tight hug.

Against the warm embrace, you mumbled, “What would you have me do?”

In his moderate voice, he answered, “Quit. Now. We’ll find another way to avenge your parents.”

“We have another way, but I need Juana’s protection,” you whispered before pulling away.

Jaehyun wiped your tears with his thumb, “Can’t Rhianon do that?”

“I’ll have to ask her. But Juana’s the one who cursed Alena. I believe her protection would be the strongest against the Primus.”

He nodded before placing a kiss to your head. “Let’s go to Rhianon. We have to plan everything now.”

At your nod of approval, Jaehyun held your wrist and walked side by side with you. Thankfully, no more students could be seen walking in the corridors and Juana’s chamber was a private place, you don’t have to worry about venatrixes seeing you hold hands with a vampire.

It has been two months since you came to the Academy. One more month until the dreaded gathering would take place, and Juana has never been stricter to you. Once in a while, she would supervise your eating. Doing so much as to sit across from you in the canteen to watch you eat. She has been observing your training to see how strong you’ve become since joining the Academy, too.

There were improvements, according to Jaehyun and Lucas. Your bones had become stronger because of sparring with the hunter in daylight, and training with the vampire at night. It was tiring and bone-jarring, but fulfilling nevertheless. Muscles have developed and your stamina has been boosted. But they don’t need to tell you that it still wasn’t enough to kill Alena. You have never seen her, and didn’t dare ask them to describe her to you. A small part of you was surely scared— no, a large part of you. But when you stare at the ceilings and remember your parents, all fear vanishes.

You opened the door and spotted Rhianon sitting on the floors, stacks of books were sprawled in front of her. She has been working non-stop to study the spells that would be useful for your case. At the sound of the door opening, she quickly closed all the books.

“It’s me,” you announced with a smile.

Rhianon breathed a sigh of relief before opening her books for the second time. “I thought there were some unwanted visitors— oh.” She whistled upon seeing Jaehyun’s frame entering the room.

Jaehyun gave her a small smile before joining you in sitting across from Rhianon.

“How was the meeting?” she asked as she adjusted her glasses.

You shared a glance with Jaehyun, then you cleared your throat, “Juana… well, it was stupid—”

“It really was,” Jaehyun muttered.

You gave him a look before proceeding, “She would enchant the whole forest so the season would be winter over that specific place—”

Rhianon slammed her book shut and stared at you with her brows knitted together. “She would what?!”

Running a hand through the thin pages of one of her books, you sighed, “You heard me, Rhi. She’s a powerful witch so she’d turn the season to winter over the forest and would leave me there alone to fight off entities she hadn’t bothered to describe.”

After your sparring with Jaehyun, Rhianon came dashing towards the both of you and told you of Juana’s summoning. It was past seven p.m. then. Eva and Lucas were already sitting on the couches when you and Jaehyun arrived. Lucas’s apologetic look gave off the storm that was about to take place. And it did.

Juana waited for you to sit comfortably on the sofa before breaking the dreadful mission: she would enchant the forest and turn the season to winter. She would leave you alone in the forest and would observe your strategies on how to survive such desolate and cold places. Not only that, she decided to include different types of monster of her own craft to make everything much worse and dangerous for you. That’s why Jaehyun had gone batshit over the meeting— he didn’t want you to do it.

“And for what?” Rhianon scoffed, “To ged rid of you?”

“Perhaps that’s the true reason behind this foolishness. But Eva also stated that every hunter goes through this mission.”

“Well, that’s bullcrap. I haven’t heard of that before.”

Some part of you knew that. The mission could be a trick made to finally oust you out of the Academy and from the Earth for good— because according to Juana’a description, nobody would survive her mission. They view you as a collateral damage, and that’s how they treat you. What a sickening joke. You wanted to kill them for that.

“As expected. They are trying to deceive you, Y/N,” Jaehyun uttered beside you.

“I know. But I am deceiving them, too, by this—” You motioned the books splayed on the floor, “— if we could find the right spell to find Hubert’s lost tongue before next week, I wouldn’t have to do Juana’s mission.”

Rhianon hummed, “That’s right. And the three of us could fuck right off this Academy.”

“What’s the spell you’re searching for?” Jaehyun decided to ask.

“Something about restoration and divination. But the latter is my priority. We won’t be able to restore Hubert’s tongue if we don’t know where it is,” Rhianon explained while pulling another book out of the stacks. “And before I forgot… we have to have something of Hubert’s possession to locate his missing body part.”

“We have to revisit the cemetery and ask Hubert if we could borrow anything from him,” you chimed in.

Jaehyun crossed his arms. “I know that ghost. He’s old and ornery. If we want something from him, we have to steal it.”

“With that, I need to read about ghost-binding spells. We don’t want Hubert to follow us after,” Rhianon suggested.

Information suddenly weaved its way through your mind. Upon weeks of reading Latin because of Rhianon’s books, you have known some things already. You hurriedly searched for the book who has a tight binding on it and splayed its contents wide to search for the spell.

“It’s here. The ghost-binding spell.” You pointed to the text. “We have to bring candles and salt.”

Rhianon leaned and craned her neck to see the text herself. Then she nodded while whispering the words, “Alright. This is easy and I’m confident that I can do this. We could visit the cemetery tonight.”

“I’ll take a shower and get ready,” you stated before standing up. Rhianon and Jaehyun both nodded at you then you left them to continue their readings with a wide smile plastered on your face.

—

The cascading water from the shower was the only noise that could be heard in the whole room. But Jaehyun’s other senses could pick up elements which couldn’t be seen by the naked eye. It was Jaehyun’s first time to go back here after the night with you. But the scent was strong. And this pungent scent that was incessantly piercing his nostrils was surely getting on his nerves.

No, it wasn’t Rhianon nor Y/N’s smell. Jaehyun has grown accustomed to the former because of spending time reading books and discussing plans with her. The latter, Jaehyun has already memorized like the scent of his favorite perfume. This couldn’t be your smell.

Because it was Sicheng. What was he doing in this room?

Jaehyun feigned reading to observe Rhianon. You trust her. But Jaehyun couldn’t do the same. He needed answers before he could do that.

If they would do this together, he has to trust Rhianon. And the girl must give her a reason to.

“Rhianon,” Jaehyun stated. The girl looked up to him while raising both her brows. “What was Sicheng doing here?”

The woman didn’t even blink, let alone act surprised. She only sighed and placed the book from her lap to the floors. Jaehyun heightened his senses for any attacks nor incantations, but Rhianon only leaned her back to the sides of her bed.

“How do you know him?”

Jaehyun answered, “He’s a friend of mine.”

“It took you awhile to notice,” Rhianon sighed, “But… let’s wait for Y/N to finish up so I could tell you both.”

As if on cue, the door from the bathroom suddenly opened. You stepped outside wearing fresh jeans and a simple shirt. The tension from Jaehyun could be felt to where you stood. It drew your forehead in a crease but you shrugged it off and sauntered up to them.

“Aren’t you showering, Rhi?”

But instead of Rhianon, it was Jaehyun who answered. “She has something to tell you.”

So, there was truly something going on while you showered. You could only hope that whatever Rhianon has to tell you, it wasn’t terrible.

Rhianon glimpsed at Jaehyun before clearing her throat and talking, “This is something that I should’ve told you before. But I really wasn’t sure whether I could trust you with this secret.”

You reached for her hands and squeezed them with yours. “I understand,” you said. It was true. And you know how it feels like to want to trust someone but couldn’t because of inhibitions.

“My… my brother went here months ago to visit me.”

“You have a brother?”

She chewed on her lower lip before speaking, “Yes and he’s a vampire.”

Your jaw dropped. Rhianon has a sibling, and he’s a vampire. “Wha… how? Are you a vampire, too?” You glanced at Jaehyun, who was looking at Rhianon with a careful examination.

“No, silly. I’m not,” Rhianon chuckled lowly, “My brother… he was turned.”

“Turned? Like Juana—” Your words were halted as realization dawned on you. You stared at Rhianon, wide-eyes with your mouth dropping to the floors. At your perplexed bearing, she nodded.

“My brother is her son.”

If your eyes could roll off from their sockets, they surely would. Everything seemed to make sense right now. “That’s why you are helping me. To save your brother.” You huffed out a breath, “I would help you, Rhianon.”

“That’s the thing, Y/N. My brother, Sicheng, doesn’t want to be saved. Juana only crafted it in her mind that he needs her help. But no. Sicheng’s turning was consensual.”

You have tons and tons of questions in your mind but one thing is for certain: Juana lied to you, over and over again. She convinced you that she needed to save her son. But here was the truth, slowly unraveling itself to you.

“How… oh my God. Then Juana is your—?” Sweats formed in your forehead by the realization. If Rhianon truly is Juana’s daughter, how could you guarantee that the witch isn’t privy of your plans?

Rhianon quickly put a finger to your lips before you could utter the word. “Yes. But she doesn’t know how to raise a child so I’d appreciate it if we don’t call her my mother.” At your confused expression, Rhianon added, “We weren’t really on good terms, Y/N. Trust me. And I didn’t tell a soul about your secrets. I’m merely telling you this to let you know that there isn’t any need to kill Alena and put your life in danger while doing Juana’s dirty work.”

That explains all her book of magic and enchantments, of her little vials of potions, and her ability to understand Latin. And that also confirms your question of her true nature. Rhianon truly is a witch.

“What’s in it for you?” Jaehyun chided in. He bore a flat expression on his face while asking the question. You know, deep in your heart, that Jaehyun would dive into every detail to make sense of Rhianon’s revelation. For that, you are thankful. He was always the steady flame beside you: prepared to burn brighter if needed.

Rhianon let a bitter smile on her lips. “I love my brother. He’s the only relative I have out there who cares for me.” Then she looked at Jaehyun, “He’s your friend, right?”

“He’s your friend?” you repeated dubiously. He didn’t tell you that. Then you remember that you have no idea about Jaehyun’s life aside from him, being a vampire.

“Yes. But I didn’t know that they were brothers and sisters,” Jaehyun explained, “I caught Sicheng’s scent here. So I decided to ask.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N, Jaehyun doesn’t really know,” Rhianon chuckled at your agitated face. “That’s it. I love my brother. And I want to end Juana’s rashness. Sicheng’s contented to have a life of his own: one he didn’t had the chance to experience while being a half-mortal and half-witch before.” Sadness made its way to Rhianon’s face, her lips frowned by the memories flashing in her mind. “If you’re a boy and a witch at the same time, you’re next to nothing when it comes to the witches. And… this might sound wrong, but I’m really thankful that Alena took him. Now, he has a purpose, albeit being a Primus’ dog.”

Jaehyun made a sound. “You wanted to prove Juana wrong. You wanted to defeat her without fighting her.”

Rhianon nodded at Jaehyun while holding your hands tightly. “She thinks of me as a weak girl who won’t cast a simple spell in her life. But I’ll prove her wrong.” She smiled at you, her dark irises twinkling with what you could only perceive as hope. “I’ll prove her wrong and I will help you, Y/N. So let’s buckle up and find your parents’ murderer, shall we?”

—

The moon was a ball of white light in the heavens that night. A witch was engaged in murmuring incantations under her breath to heighten the magic pouring from her system. Latin echoed through the silence with the soft whispers of the wind against the curtains through the open windows commixing with the sound.

Juana counted the days since she’d lost her son to a vampire— to her worst enemy. Alena Detritius, the vampire Primus of this wretched town.

They say it was her fault. Her late husband's mother, Sicilia, had pointed her fingers at Juana and told her wretched names, accusing her of letting the witches kill her son. Her own daughter— Rhianon— has never failed to remind her of her weakness and the dwindling magic in her veins. She won’t let that child render her impotent. If it comes to that, Juana won’t hesitate to drive her knife through the girl’s chest. This magic in her blood is hers and hers alone. She hasn’t eaten mud and dust, struggled to survive against other witches’ cruelty just to let this happen to her.

The glory is hers. And it is no one for the taking.

The words pouring out from her mouth have become stronger and sinister. Juana raised up her arms to call upon the known incantations and the power behind them, drawing them closer and closer to her— when a presence suddenly caught her attention.

Juana opened her eyes in alarm. There is someone in the shadows. Someone with a wrath so great it could rival Lucifer’s. Juana drew her fingertips to the air to intensify the glow of the candles. They made a hissing sound as they burned brighter to illuminate the dark corners of the room.

“Show yourself,” Juana commanded.

The shadow emerged from the darkness, revealing a man whom Juana yearned to hug all her life.

“My son,” she gasped before stepping out from her circle and walking towards Sicheng.

He backed away while raising his hand in warning. “I’m not here to reunite with you, and I’m not here to play games, either,” he declared, stabbing the hope of the witch, “Who is Rhianon’s roommate?”

Juana withdrew her hands and placed them on her sides instead. The question wasn’t something she had seen coming, still she struggled to remain unruffled. “An aspiring hunter. Her parents were killed by a vampire, she’s here to learn what befell them.”

She heard her son’s sardonic chuckle as she turned her back against him. Juana walked towards her wooden table to pour herself some wine. The night is cold and jarring and she needed something to warm her veins.

“Aspiring hunter?” Sicheng hummed, “Or maybe… she’s a hunter that you’d send to rescue me, no?”

“All of this is for you, Sicheng. To rescue you—”

Sicheng bared his fangs and hissed, “I don’t need saving!”

Juana gulped down the contents of her glass. “You do. That vampire took you and turned you without your consent—”

“No. She didn’t. You know that,” Sicheng said with enough hatred, “I crawled my way towards her when the witches failed to kill me.” The vampire took a step towards the witch. “Where were you when they had me flogged?”

Juana whirled on her son, cheeks damped with the shed tears. “What would you have me do? I was becoming a Supreme, Sicheng! They wanted me to prove that I have power in my veins—”

“By watching your son being tortured to death?!” Sicheng screamed, his eyes widening in utter fury. “And you still call yourself a mother after that?” he asked with repugnance.

Tears fell like waterfall from the witch’s eyes, yet the vampire’s heart in front of her doesn’t beat no more. And even if it could, it won’t certainly feel any ounce of pity.

“I am your mother,” Juana sniffed, desperation laced with her voice, “You won’t ever change that.”

“You disgust me,” Sicheng seethed, “As long as I live, I will always despise you.”

Juana felt as if her innards were being hurled out of her by the words. She knew that her son hated him— but it never failed to hurt whenever he reminded her of it.

“I will become better for you.” Juana desperately clutched Sicheng’s shirt when he turned to leave. But the man only looked at her as if she wasn’t her coven’s Supreme. As if she wasn’t powerful. As if she wasn’t his mother— and swatted her hands away with a raging touch.

“Do me a favor and fuck off,” Sicheng spat, “mother.”

With that, the vampire turned to leave through the windows. He gripped the windowsill tightly and jumped, leaving a devastated witch alone in her chambers.

—

Whatever he does, and whatever he says, Sicheng’s wrath couldn’t be quenched. He never wanted to see Juana’s face again. Her mere shadows could pull Sicheng back to the night where he was whipped to death in a circle made by the witches.

Juana stood on the sidelines then, her face inscrutable. She watched as Sicheng bled and wished for death.

All he wanted was to live; to bask in the sun and swim in the ocean, to feel the crisp wind at night and hear the owls hooting from the trees. He was a simple boy with simple dreams in a simple town.

Sicheng once believed that he was untouchable. His mother is a witch, the next Supreme. But what was his age when the world proved him wrong? Eighteen. He was a fruit ready to ripen, but they plucked him from the branches before he could be something. Because of what? Because he was born as a man in a coven of witches.

He never understood it, no. Why would you suffer for being born the way you were? Why did the witches decide him as nothing because of the male hormones in his system? He could be something. But they took that away by flogging him— too many times to count.

It was a ritual— Juana said. It was a ritual for the greater good. For the protection of the witches. But Sicheng was a witch, too, right? Why would they sacrifice their likes for their protection? Wasn’t that hideous?

Bound and gagged, nobody heard Sicheng’s prayers nor scream but his little sister, Rhianon. She was eleven years old when she defied the witches. In the dead of the night, she and her grandmother risked their lives by helping Sicheng flee from the sordid situation he was into.

With his wounds screaming at every step he took, Sicheng struggled to run for his life. The gods had listened— but their ears were of consequences. So Sicheng ran, towards nowhere. Until he fell face first to the ground in front of Alena’s mansion.

She gave him another life. Purpose. And for that, he was forever grateful.

“How was your visit to your… mother?”

Sicheng shook off his thoughts when he heard Alena’s sultry voice. She was in her usual place, at the end of the hall, sitting on her throne. Silver against the moonlight infiltrating from the gothic windows behind her, Alena’s hair was bound in a tight coil at the back of her head.

He stood rigid before bowing. “The girl’s parents were killed by a vampire and she wants to be a hunter, she said. But I know that she’s meant to rescue me,” he explained.

Alena’s lowly chuckle echoed through the hall. “She’s a crazy bitch, don’t you think?” Then she stood up and walked languorously towards Sicheng. Her feet were bizarrely white against the stygian floors. “How about my beloved fiancé? I could smell the particulars from you already,” she hummed.

Jaehyun is his friend. But Alena is his Primus. Even if he lied, Alena would know the truth one way or another.

So Sicheng cleared his throat. “I saw him at the Academy and told him about the incoming gathering. He refused, my lady.”

Sicheng couldn’t perceive the emotion in Alena’s face, for it was forbidden to look at her in the eyes. But he could feel the unleashed animal roaring inside Alena.

“Why?” The word was laconic, but the danger in it was overflowing.

“He… he’s protecting a student. I was told— by Jaehyun himself— that he would kill for h—”

Alena heckled, “What an imbecile son-of-a-bitch.” Then she sighed. “But we couldn’t really choose whom we love, could we? Imbecilic or not, I love that fool.” Her gown swooshed as she whirled towards her throne. “It’s time I meet the girl.”

“Do I bring her to you?”

Alena sat and propped up her chin to her palms. “No. She’s coming on her own.”

—

With the same eeriness and mystery to it, the name of the cemetery greeted you by prickling the hairs on your neck. Unlike the first time you visited, the wind was balmy tonight, making droplets of sweats to coat your forehead. You tried not to view the atmosphere as an ominous sign and proceeded to walk alongside Jaehyun and Rhianon.

“Where’s Hubert?” Rhianon whispered beside you while holding her flashlight.

“We still have a long way to go,” you whispered back.

Jaehyun didn’t need any flashlight because of his vampiric vision, so he walked ahead of you. “Be careful of the mud,” he reminded.

Despite the stifling weather, the cemetery was surprisingly damped. Murky patches of soil could be spotted here and there, caking the soles of your sneakers with mud.

“Where do you plan to do the spell?” you uttered before hopping over a muddy plot of earth.

Rhianon followed suit before answering you, “Near Hubert’s lair. Or in his exact lair.”

After minutes of trekking the familiar pathway, the rusty railings of Hubert’s den loomed from afar. Crickets sang their songs as you drew nearer, with the hooting of owls to join the sound.

Jaehyun roamed his eyes around, probably searching for intruders or any unwanted guests. “Alright. You could start your spell now,” he announced.

You helped Rhianon set the candles to the ground, with Jaehyun guarding your backs. The earth was dry, it was hard to dig a small hole to make the candles stand.

“We have to make another circle.” Rhianon, then, fished for the salt inside her small bag and clutched a handful of it. She sprinkled the salt in a circular shape. “Shit,” she muttered, “I forgot the matchsticks.”

Jaehyun walked towards you and offered his lighter. “Here.”

Rhi took it from his hands but before she could light a candle, the air blew harshly. The hair on your nape stood immediately, not because of the cold, but because of the entity standing in front of Hubert’s den.

It was Hubert himself. And he doesn’t look happy as he took in the circle on the ground.

“Hurry,” Jaehyun hissed, “I’ll draw him out. Y/N, you know what to do.”

You gulped and nodded. Jaehyun has planned the stealing on the way to the cemetery. You would be the one to steal from Hubert, and because of him being a ghost, you would have to try and make your way into his den to search for something, anything. While Rhianon would work on the ghost-binding spell.

“Hubert,” Jaehyun said with his endearing smile, “This is a misunderstanding. The girls are only—” He didn’t finish his sentence for Hubert let out a snarl and sauntered up to you and Rhianon.

“Shit, shit,” you muttered incessantly.

Rhianon have successfully kindled the candles. She was whispering Latin while Hubert drew closer. You gave Rhianon one last look before dashing towards Hubert’s den.

He let out another roar when he noticed what you were trying to do. Instead of interrupting Rhianon, he focused his attention solely to your running form. Jaehyun stood before Hubert, blocking his way to you.

Your eyes grew frantic, realizing that Hubert was nothing but a phantom. He could easily walk past Jaehyun— or so you believed.

The balmy air grew brisk as some energy exuded from Jaehyun’s frame. You have no idea what it was, nor how did he do it. Perhaps it was his being half-dead which drew Hubert in a halt. You wasted no time to ponder what happened and sprinted inside Hubert’s den.

It was no larger than a cubicle in a public bathroom. And it was empty. There was nothing but dried leaves, dust, and rust.  

“There’s nothing in here!” you shouted as you peeked your head to the corroded railings.

Rhianon was still kneeling on the ground, with Hubert’s spirit slowly stepping back to be captured by the circle. Jaehyun snapped his head towards you, his fangs visible with the glint of red on his pupils. Seeing him in his vampire stature never failed to amaze and creeped you out at the same time.

He sauntered up towards the small space of Hubert’s den, and sniffed the air around him. You stood in the corner, anticipating Jaehyun’s next move. Then he walked to the wall behind you. You watched him pull out a brick to reveal a small niche. A small paper was inside it.

“What is that?” you asked, peering into the paper on Jaehyun’s hand.

It was a picture. A picture of a woman and a girl.

“Is that Hubert?” You pointed to the man standing beside the woman who’s carrying a small girl in her arms. The three of them were donned in Victorian clothing. Written at the back of the paper were the words, ‘1861. Agatha and I yearn for you, my love. Please, return safe. — Diana’

“His wife and… daughter,” Jaehyun uttered.

Something pulled on your heartstrings. Time had taken its toll upon the paper. The edges were slowly decaying, leaving Hubert’s arm missing. This could be the last memory of him or his family. It would be wretched to steal it away.

“We… we can’t take that. Let’s find—”

Jaehyun looked up to you. “This is his last possession, Y/N.”

You rolled your lower lip with your teeth. “That’s why we couldn’t simply take it away.”

“I know this is hard. Trust me, I’m having second thoughts myself. But this is the only thing that belongs to him. If we don’t take this, we won’t have a chance to make him talk.”

He has a point. No, Jaehyun was correct. In order to make everything work, you have to do this. You took the picture from his hand and stared at it for a while before nodding.

When the two of you exited Hubert’s home, he was already standing in the circle, with Rhianon watching him in amusement.

“Did you find anything?” she asked.

You glanced at Jaehyun before nodding at Rhianon.

At once, Hubert wailed as he realized what you’ve discovered. Feeling as if your heart was nailed to the ground, you sauntered up towards Hubert and put a distance between you.

“I know you know what we’ve found.” Literal tears fell down his cheeks at that. You sharply inhaled. “I promise I will return it to you as soon as possible. You love them, I know. I understand you. I lost my parents, too. And this is the only way to find their murderer— I’m sorry, Hubert.”

He tried to move, but he was bound to the circle. You fought off tears as you turned your back against him. The poor man’s ghost wailed until you were out of his sight.

Rhianon and Jaehyun exchanged suggestions on how best to perform the divination. But your mind was clouded— unable to think clearly. Hubert’s cries haunted you back to the Academy.

He had a family. What happened to them… and what happened to him? It’s 20**. The picture was taken back in the 1800’s. Almost two hundred years. Certainly, his family had already died. But why is his spirit still tied to the mortal realm? Why hasn’t he seen the white light yet?

“Y/N?” Jaehyun clutched your shoulder softly, willing you back to Earth.

You blinked. “What is it?”

“Rhianon and I have decided to do the divination tonight. Is that alright with you?”

Gulping, you smoothed your shirt and gave them an encouraging smile. Your bones felt sluggish, but you have to do this as soon as possible. “Yes.”

The trip back to your room was occupied with tiptoes and elated hearts. It is not pleasant to prowl these spaces in the dead of night. The security guards are extremely harsh when it comes to reckless students.

Rhianon shut the door, wasting no time to grab something inside her closet. As you sat on the floors yet again, you occupied yourself in reading the contents of Rhianon’s first book of magic. Jaehyun did the same.

“Could you understand Latin?” you curiously asked. He was skimming way faster than you did which made you inquisitive.

The edges of his lips turned upwards, revealing a small smile. “My vampire nature had somehow made it possible.”

And perhaps it was his favorite part of being a vampire. It was a dead language, but his eyes had an unusual enthusiasm to them as he scanned and read through the letters. You felt your heart ramming against your chest at the sight of him. As if all the burdens in his shoulders have been lifted.

“Oh, there it is. Divination,” Jaehyun uttered in amusement while tapping the word on the parchment. Then he caught you staring as he looked up to you. “We’re one step closer, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Reaching out for your cheek, Jaehyun uttered, “Anything for you.”

Rhianon suddenly cleared her throat, gaining both your attention. You shifted and looked up to see her holding a cup. She sat and took the book from Jaehyun’s lap.

Pointing at the golden cup in her hand, you inquired, “What’s that for?”

Different types of pebbles rolled off the floor after Rhianon threw the contents of the cup. “For guidance.” Then she stretched out a hand to Jaehyun. “What did you find?

Familiar stinging wrapped your throat as Jaehyun pulled out the picture from his back pocket and handed it to Rhianon. With sadness like your own, Rhianon observed the picture.

“This is… his family,” she said. “I wonder what happened to them.”

Laying the picture flat on the flooring, Rhianon circled the air above the picture with open palms. She stared hard at the picture, brows furrowed and jaw clenching. It was clear that she’s having a rough time locating Hubert’s tongue.

What if it couldn’t be detected at all? You shook off the thoughts. There is no point being pessimistic right now.

Rhianon murmured something under her breath, hands steady above the picture. You heedlessly reached out for Jaehyun’s hand and grasped tightly. Agonizing minutes had passed, yet Rhianon continued to murmur Latin.

Then she gasped, as if she was punched in the gut. Your knuckles were white, holding Jaehyun in a bone-crushing force.

“A mansion,” Rhianon began, “Its floors were the blackest of stones. There is a throne… at the edge of the hall— and— shit.” Veins protruding, Rhianon’s hands trembled. “A huge tree. Oak.”

This time, it was Jaehyun who grasped your hand firmly. It didn’t hurt, but there was something in it that made you look at him. His face was ashen as he waited patiently for Rhianon’s next words.

“In its roots there lay a wooden box.” Then Rhianon stilled. “Something inside it belongs to Hubert.” She retracted her hands to her sides and looked up to you. “I… I’m not sure if it’s his tongue, Y/N. It’s… blurry.”

You forced a smile despite the failure. “At least we now have a starting point. We only have to search for that place.”

“We don’t have to search anymore,” Jaehyun chided in. Both you and Rhianon looked at him. His jaw was clenched in concentration. “I know where it is.”

A wide smile spread out on your lips. Destiny was still on your side in this battle. Delightful, you held Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Where is it?”

“Alena’s mansion.”

—

Like a winking white flame in the heavens, the stars scattered themselves throughout the whole vastness of the skies. You sat on the grass, with Jaehyun playing with your hair.

Yesterday, you had ventured to the cemetery and stole a family picture which belongs to a ghost. After that, your witch friend performed Divination using her power. And you have found out that Hubert’s tongue has been kept in the backyard in Alena’s mansion because of your vampire lover, Jaehyun.

Yet you felt as if the supernatural occurrence was still far from ending.

“How did you know that it was Alena’s mansion?” You turned your head sideways to ask Jaehyun. He seated himself behind you, attempting to tie your hair to whatever bun it would fit.

The man wrapped his arms around your torso. “I’ve lived with her since I was turned. That’s why.”

Alena turned him. And he’d lived with her ever since. They were engaged. So you cleared your throat. “Did you love her?” You did your best to sound indifferent as possible.

Jaehyun hummed, placing his chin to your shoulder. “To be honest? I think so. I won’t tolerate everything she’d done for me if not.”

When you anticipated for a little pang in your chest and felt nothing, you leaned your head back to his own shoulder. “What did she do to you?”

He chuckled— so deliciously masculine that you won’t mind hearing it forever. “That’s a secret.”

“We couldn’t hide secrets from each other, you know. Lovers don’t do that.” The word tickled your insides— like butterflies fluttering their wings in your stomach.

“Oh. We are lovers?” He faked amusement. You wiggled yourself free from him, but Jaehyun held tight. A rumble of chuckles echoing through him again. “I love you.”

You stilled, then whirled to face him fully. “What did you say?”

Adoration danced in his irises, paired with a smile which transformed his whole face into something… human.

Jaehyun took your face with his hands, cupping your cheeks protectively before placing a kiss on your lips. He drew back in an inch, then whispered the words again, “I love you.”

You didn’t know what it was— but tears seared the back of your eyes. The words were full of love for a person whose heart doesn’t beat.

“Are you sure?” You breathed. “I… Jaehyun, I am a human. I—”

Jaehyun shut you up by kissing your lips again. He pulled away, still wearing his smile. “Let’s not worry about that.”

You couldn’t help but worry. You are a human. No matter what relationship you would build after all this chaos, the eternity of him and your humanness inside you would hinder a happy ever after.

What would life be with Jaehyun? If he’s half-dead, if he isn’t human? There would be life— yes— if you would force destiny to bend at your will. Yet you didn’t want to fool yourself. However strong the love you have for him, it’s not enough to ask him to bite and turn you. You love this life— you cherish the humanity in you.

“I would die. One day,” you persisted, “And you will live, for as long as time exists.”

“Angel,” Jaehyun whispered as he placed his forehead against yours, “Yes, I am afraid to lose you. Fuck, it makes me mad just thinking about it. But whatever this life would offer us, no matter how constrained it might be, I’ll be forever grateful that once in my lifetime I’ve met and loved you.”

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you inhaled sharply. “Oh, Jaehyun. I love you too.”

He breathed you in and embraced you tightly. “We’ll do everything. Together.”

—

“Are we ready?” Rhianon asked, strapping her dagger to her waists and knives to her legs.

Securing every strap on your suit, you did the same to your weapons. “I am.”

A night after finding out where Hubert’s tongue could possibly be, the time has already come to finally retrieve it from Alena. If you were having second thoughts on whether to kill the Vampire Primus, you shook all the uncertainties off. The one thing you have been yearning to find is located at her mansion. You needed to come to her one way or another.

But in the deepest part of your heart, you wished that the night would show you mercy and would let you leave her mansion unscathed.

Truthfully, you could ask nicely. However dumb it might sound— you truly could. But if Alena has something to do with that part of Hubert’s body, you weren’t certain if she’d let it go by simply handing it to you.

Why was it kept hidden six feet under the ground if she’s not hiding something, right? There must be a reason for that. Chopping off a ghost’s tongue isn’t usual, even for a vampire. Not unless she’s hiding something— and only Hubert knew what it was.

Rhianon suddenly handed you a vial of clear liquid. “It will not save us from the vampires, but it would lower the chance of them sniffing our scents.” She took another vial from the pocket of her suit and drank it straight. Rhianon wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’ve worked on that the night you went out with Jaehyun.”

You stared at the vial. There were tiny bubbles inside. You pulled the stopper out and drank it wholeheartedly. It left a bitter taste in your tongue, like ants biting the flesh. But it gradually lessened until it vanished.

Rhianon took the empty vial from your hand and threw it to the trash can. “Let’s go.”

You nodded and started walking behind her. It was ten p.m. according to the wall clock.

Both your gasp echoed through the whole room as Rhianon swung the door open and saw Lucas standing in the doorway.

He stared at the both of you— eyes wide. “Where are you going?”

Rhianon reached for your hand and squeezed tightly, willing you to speak on her behalf. You couldn’t even speak yourself, lest you would burst open all your plans to Lucas. “I— we… are going to practice!”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s ten p.m.. No hunters are allowed outside anymore.”

“Why don’t you come inside for a while? Hm?” Rhianon offered, turning her body sideways to let Lucas walk in.

He glanced at the both of you, confusion and intrigue tattooed in his eyes. But he walked in nonetheless.

You cleared your throat when Lucas had finally seated himself to Rhianon’s swivel chair. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m checking up on the students.”

“That’s new. Why?” For someone who claimed to be enthralled with Lucas, Rhianon surely has improved to conceal her feelings. She looked at Lucas with nothing but curiosity.

Wandering his eyes through the whole of your room, Lucas answered unambiguously, “Juana’s command.”

Rhianon, from beside you, let go off the steam from her body by snorting loudly. “We’re quite fine. You could tell your master that.”

Lucas whirled, hurt clear on his features. “She’s not my master. I serve the corporation, not Juana.”

You wanted to get this over with. Whatever was Lucas’s intention to be visiting at this ungodly hour doesn’t sit well with you. Yet you didn’t know how to tell him to nicely fuck off.

“Are you done? Could we carry on with our business now?” Rhianon folded her arms together.

“Why are you so eager to get rid of me?”

Sighing, you massage your temple. Is this some lover’s quarrel unraveling in front of you?

Rhianon didn’t answer. Then she sauntered up to her closet. You stood there, watching her as her hands grasp something from inside. Sand? You weren’t quiet certain.

“Where are you—” Lucas didn’t finish his sentence for Rhianon blew out whatever was on her palm towards his face. The hunter slowly blinked, trying to fathom what was happening. Then his eyes slowly drooped, as well as his body, and he fell asleep on the floor.

You blinked, confused as to what just happened. But Rhianon clapped her hands to wipe off the last bits of the something in her palms.

“Let’s go. The magic only lasts for thirty minutes. We have to hurry,” Rhianon informed before wrapping her hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the room.

You gave one last look at Lucas’s lethargic state before letting Rhianon guide you away. He’s good to you, but he’s Madame’s hunter. His royalty would always lie to her.

According to Jaehyun, Alena’s mansion was miles away from the Academy. He reckoned that it would take at least three hours to arrive there. If you were swift, you’d arrived at one a.m.: not so perfect time to carry out this mission.

You wanted to do this in the daylight, but Madame didn’t allow you out of her sight. As the gathering gets nearer and nearer, she remained strict. Here and there, she would remind you of her challenge. Once she does that, you wouldn’t be able to gulp down your food no more. And Eva… well, she’s Eva: spiteful, irrational, and brash.

Jaehyun was leaning on a black Camaro with a cigarette adorning his lips when you arrived. Tossing his cigarette like a clapper, he beckoned you closer. “What took you so long?” he asked.

“Lucas saw us.” You gave him no time to speak. “But Rhianon already took care of it.”

He raised a brow at Rhianon, while the latter only shrugged. She ran a hand through the roof of the Camaro, fingers leaving traces because of the dust. “I missed this car.”

“It’s yours?”

“My grandmother’s.” She opened the door for you. “You sit on the bullet.”

Jaehyun would drive, it was planned out already. You hopped on the bullet seat, while Rhianon made her way behind. When all of you had settled yourselves comfortably, Jaehyun revved through the night. Copse became a blur as he picked up the pace, then the Academy behind you became smaller and smaller.

You rode in silence, the tension inside the vehicle was staggering. Guilt wrapped its claws around you as the realization that two lives would be in forfeit tonight because of you hit. You would’ve done this on your own. Truly. And yet behind the courage, you are merely a girl. A human one at that— and you were still scared.

Admitting trepidation doesn’t make one weak: that, you have learned from your parents. It’s alright to ask for help. But this isn’t a normal favor: you would break inside a Primus’ house. No sane human being would offer to come with you— but two souls did.

“I don’t know how to thank the both of you,” you began, eyes still roaming the quiet streets ahead of you. “But… as long as I breathe, I want you both to know that I’m forever in your debt.”

Rhianon stretched out a hand to hold your shoulder. “I’m glad to help you, Y/N. We’ll do this together. You’ll find out who killed your parents and we will exact vengeance.”

You placed a hand above hers. “Thank you, Rhi.”

“I’m here. I’ll protect you as long as I can. And I’m a hard bastard to kill, angel,” Jaehyun chimed in, laying his hand on your thigh.

You placed a hand above hers. “Thank you, Rhi.”

“I’m here. I’ll protect you as long as I can. And I’m a hard bastard to kill, angel,” Jaehyun chimed in, laying his hand on your thigh.

The fear in your heart has been replaced by something that you could only regard as courage. You have your heart, and it is enough. This is for your parents, for your brother. And for your own peace.

The road ahead was deprived of any life. Darkness blanketed the asphalt sinisterly. Insects danced ahead as they were captured by the light provided by Rhianon’s vehicle. Then a huge mansion peeked through the thick fronds of trees covering its vastness.

Jaehyun killed the engine before you could see the whole image of Alena’s mansion. From your distance, even her vampires won’t catch any scent of you— nor hear a beat from your heart.

“We’re here,” Jaehyun announced.

Crickets sang in unison the same time the three of you opened the car doors. Since none of you could see through the dark enshrouded surroundings, Jaehyun led the way.

The sound of squelchy grasses joined the crickets as you entered the groups of tall trees. Not even the moonlight could peek through the thick leaves, resulting in little to no light to guide your way.

“The oak tree you’ve seen is located in her backyard. The walls are high, but not high enough to stop us,” Jaehyun whispered, his head busy scouring the surroundings for any unforeseen danger.

You tried to locate Rhianon with your human eyes, but to no avail. Hands gripping the hilt of your snake dagger, you focused on following Jaehyun instead.

At last, after the long trek towards Alena’s backyards, the tall cemented wall greeted you. In this area, no more trees obscured the moonlight, allowing you to take in the vastness of the wall.

Rhianon deadpanned, “You mean, not high enough for you?”

There was no way you could climb this bland wall. It wasn’t even a gate, but a literal wall. You wouldn’t be able to climb it yourself. There was no niche— nothing.

“This is a thick wall. Once I throw you up, there’s space for you to hold on to.”

“What?!” You and Rhianon exclaimed by whispering in unison.

“There is no other way. This mansion is guarded by vampires. The only area they don’t give much attention to is the backyard,” Jaehyun sighed, “Would you rather knock on her front door and be killed? Trust me, I know my way here.”

You gave Rhianon a shrug before sauntering up to Jaehyun. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

“Don’t be scared,” he teased.

“I’m not.”

He chuckled before standing behind you. Jaehyun placed a hand to both your waists, sending bolts of electricity down your spine. His touch was always fire and thunder against your skin, leaving marks in the deepest parts of your soul. You prayed that after this night, you would still have your vampire beside you.

“I’m ready,” you exhaled.

Jaehyun’s grip tightened, then he threw you upwards. The experience made your stomach curl, as if your insides were being tickled. You quickly grabbed to the top of the wall where the space he was talking about was located. Your body couldn’t even fit, so you stayed crouching, gulping down the fear that you might fall.

Vast was an understatement to describe her backyard. Trees lined up the premises, with the back of her mansion looming from the distance. As an architecture student, you’ve reckoned that the space could still allow two residential houses.

There was a thud beside you, followed by Rhianon’s curses. Not a second after she landed, Jaehyun followed suit.

Like cats over the wall, the three of you crouched. Rhianon almost slipped, earning a gasp from you. But Jaehyun caught her arm before she could fall and break all her bones.

“Fuck, Jaehyun. You said we could fit in!” Rhianon seethed.

“We are fitting in, Rhianon,” Jaehyun chortled, as if he was enjoying the sweats streaming down your faces, “I’ll jump and catch you below.”

You blew out a breath. “Here we go again.”

“Let me jump first, Y/N,” Rhianon gulped.

After Jaehyun made a soundless landing, he once again roamed his eyes around the vicinity. Then he glanced up to Rhianon and gestured to her to jump.

“My ghost will haunt you if I die, Jaehyun,” Rhianon warned before jumping. Just like how Jaehyun threw the both of you, he caught Rhianon by her waists, too.

Rhianon rubbed her hands together before looking up to beckon you to make the jump. You  closed your eyes before jumping. The familiar tickles inside your stomach frenzied as you felt the whip of the wind and the fall all at the same time.

Strong hands caught your waists with ease. You opened your eyes to see Jaehyun’s own staring at yours. A ghost of a smile smeared his lips as he put your stray hairs behind your ear.

“Uhm… excuse me? Could we please, you know?” Rhianon chided in, breaking the moment you shared with Jaehyun.

You straightened and rubbed your hand in your hips. Jaehyun’s silly smile grew wider by your embarrassment.

He cleared his throat. “This way.”

But your steps were halted as someone spoke from behind you. The voice was lurid, but the edge was there. It was crooked and it was dangerous as it said: “Welcome, hunters.”

Frozen on your feet, you remained standing. The tautness of your muscles was like a painful numbness. You were caught— without even taking your first step towards the answers.

Jaehyun was the first one to pivot his heels. “Alena,” he said.

If your nerves could scream, they clearly would have. Alena. Jaehyun’s fiancée. She’s here. One circle of your heel would allow you to see her, finally. As much as your curiosity wanted to cage you in its grasp, you couldn’t find the strength to whirl around and face her.

“Rhianon?” Someone gasped from behind you when Rhianon turned on her heel. The voice was masculine, with a particular softness laced with it.

“Sicheng,” Rhianon laconically stated.

Sicheng. Her brother... he’s here with Alena. Somehow, the reality of all that was leafing right now was a lump blocking your air passage. Is there any escape to this chaos? To this danger?

“Welcome back, my love.” Alena’s voice was like a song. A lullaby. For its emotion, you would believe that she had nothing but rainbows in her chest and roses in her heart.

Drinking the last bits of courage to prevent yourself from shaking, you pivoted on your heels.

A woman wearing a dress as red as blood, her skin porcelain and white as bone and hair like a piece of moonlight in itself, smiled at you with red luscious lips. You must admit— you have never seen a woman so beautiful, so alluring at first glance. She was like a goddess, a divinity in her utmost glory. Her dress hugged her body perfectly, revealing the soft curves of her waists. And the plunging neckline displayed her full breasts.

It wasn’t the perfect time for jealousy. But taking in Alena’s features have proved you something: it won’t be a surprise if ever Jaehyun had loved her before.

“What are you doing here Rhianon?” Sicheng asked before giving you a once-over. You stood rigid.

“Oh.” Alena smiled, flashing her pearlescent teeth. “Is she your sister?” she asked before she sauntered up towards Rhianon with leaden steps. Rhianon didn’t back nor flinch away when Alena touched her cheek with her finger. Her proximity allowed your nose to inhale her rich perfume— a sharp smell of a flower you couldn’t name.

Jaehyun took your wrist and pulled you behind him. The action didn’t go unnoticed as Alena snapped her gaze towards him with dead eyes. Then she tugged on Rhianon’s hair forcefully, eliciting a painful groan from your friend.

“Rhianon—!” You took a step forward. But Jaehyun stopped you with his arm.

Sicheng didn’t even move a muscle to where he stood, baffling the wits out of you. Why isn’t he doing anything? Has Alena’s omnipotence rendered him hard-bitten? Is that what a Primus could do?

“Your sister’s a bit of trouble, don’t you think?” Alena catechized before she turned her full attention to Rhianon. “What are you doing here, little dove?” When Rhianon didn’t utter a word, Alena inclined her head towards Sicheng. The latter brought out a dagger from his belt, then handed it willingly to Alena, giving his sister a hard look before returning to where he stood earlier.

You grasped Jaehyun’s arm to wrench it away from you. But he caught your wrist in a viselike grip.

“Don’t move. I beg you,” he whispered, eyes glued to Alena and Rhianon.

Alena faked a sob. “I am hurt, my love. You have never shown me that affection before.” Then she drew the blade closer to Rhianon’s open neck.

You wanted to scream, but your mouth didn’t allow you. This is a trick. If Jaehyun would continue protecting you from Alena, Rhianon’s life would be in forfeit. You’d lose Rhianon, or you’d lose yourself one way or another. The realization of what lies above this night has left a painful throbbing in your heart. How did it go so wrong?

“Again,” Alena hummed, “What are you doing here?” Rhianon still didn’t speak.

You wanted to vomit from the trepidation. This is defeat. And it turned your heart ice-cold. Alena pressed the blade to Rhianon’s neck, drawing blood from her skin. She inhaled the scent, then licked her lips.

Jaehyun must’ve felt something in your bones— the gnawing force to succumb to this trick and save your friend, and the growing fear poisoning your heart. “Don’t say a word, Y/N,” he warned.

Rhianon screamed as Alena slowly dragged the blade along her neck. You saw how it sliced her skin open, allowing blood to stream violently from her neck.

“Please! Stop! Stop!” she shouted. “It hurts!”

Tears pricked the back of your eyes. You shut the world around you as you shouted, “We are here for me!”

A fresh smile had spread out on Alena’s lips as she withdrew the dagger. She snapped her fingers, then two figures emerged from the shadows. The other one held Rhianon by her arms.

“I’ll kill you if you touch her,” Jaehyun bared his fangs towards the other vampire.

Alena chuckled. “Such huge ball sacks for a pea-sized brain, my love.” Jaehyun tensed from the words. Your eyes grew harder as you stared at Alena’s frame. Then the Primus sighed. “Shall we play this game, then?”

Once again, Alena inclined her head to Sicheng. Things happened in a blur, but you felt the sharp air as Jaehyun unsheathed your snake dagger and spun around so fast. Then you stared in horror as he wrapped his hand around Sicheng’s neck, the tip of the dagger pressed to his chest.

“Touch her. And I’ll drive this dagger to your chest,” Jaehyun warned.

“Jaehyun—” Sicheng tried to speak but Jaehyun drove the dagger deeper. Its tip disappeared, making Sicheng hiss in pain.

You glance at Rhianon, who was sitting on the ground while clutching her wounded neck. Her hands were bloodied, but the color of the suit obscured the blood that has surged from her neck. You wanted to run to her, but Alena was standing right in front.

“Let it go, Sicheng,” she echoed.

The tip of the dagger was red with blood when Sicheng backed away. Jaehyun gripped the hilt tightly, not letting his eyes stray away from his friend’s walking figure. When Sicheng arrived at Alena’s side, he crouched and held his sister by her shoulder. With the remaining strength from Rhianon, she flinched away.

“Leave us,” Alena commanded. Her face impassive, intensifying the danger that lies behind her eyes. “Tend to your sister, Sicheng. Once I saw her in my house again, it would be the last time you’d see her.”

You purse your lips together as you watch Sicheng lead his sister away. Rhianon backed away, as if disgusted to be touched by her own brother. Sicheng’s lips formed in a thin line, his eyes speaking a language only the two of them understood. Rhianon gave you one last apologetic look before she left with her brother and the two other vampires.

In the dead of the night, a human stood together with two vampires in a place she didn’t know, waiting for the predator to finally pounce and cage her like a weak human being that she was. Still, she refused to falter.

You remained standing, chin held up high despite the weakness in your knees. She would never have the satisfaction of knowing that she scares you.

“Let her go in peace. And I’ll do as you like,” Jaehyun said out of nowhere.

“Jaehyun!” you seethed. You won’t go without him and Rhianon.

“What’s the fun in that?” Alena smiles your way. “I want to know my visitor. What’s your name?”

She was only standing there, her hands behind him. But her presence was like a slap to your cheek.

“Don’t speak,” Jaehyun commanded as he looked at you. If you’d do as you were told, you would only irate Alena. None of you knew what would happen then.

“I’m Y/N,” you answered. Jaehyun shut his eyes.

“Y/N,” Alena repeated, as if your name was blood and she’s tasting every drop of it. “I know who killed your parents.”

Your forehead drew in a crease. Glancing at Jaehyun who had the same confusion etched through his face, you purse your lips. “What do you mean?” The gods only know how hard you tried to sound strong. Alena’s mention of your parents felt like centipedes crawling down your spine with their thousand legs.

“Come closer, and I’ll tell you.”

“Damn you, Alena,” Jaehyun hissed, “Stop this nonsense.”

Her laugh boomed against the wholeness of her backyard and against the silence. “Fascinating, my love. I’m utterly entertained.” She cocked her head towards you. “But I do know who killed her parents. All she has to do is to come closer, and her sleuthing would finally end.”

Tempting, it truly was. Because you know, deep in your heart, that you’d do anything to know who killed your parents. And if jumping into the claws of a Vampire Primus would give you the right answers, you would dive head first. But the promise of danger in her smile was a risk you didn’t know how to take.

“The madmen might listen, but we are not mad, Alena.” Jaehyun stood his ground. You would’ve held his hand and thanked him for his courage. But Jaehyun now stands between you and the possible key to your questions. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps the madmen are listening, and you are one of them.

You looked at the ground with clenched fists. “Do you really know who killed them?”

“Y/N!” Jaehyun spun around to face you with dilating pupils. Pain was evident in his eyes as you looked up to him. You could almost hear him begging you. “We’ll find another way. Don’t do this.”

Jaehyun knew: compared to the power Alena has, he was nothing. The defeat was swirling around you with its acrid taste.

“You are here. I am safe,” you whispered with a smile. You wanted to believe that love would protect you tonight.

When he perceived the certainty in your eyes, Jaehyun let go of you. He knows you need this more than anything. “I’m with you,” he said.

Alena’s boredom was loud as she picked on her nails. “Darling, walk faster,” she ordered.

You took a step towards her without a backward glance at Jaehyun.

With a malignant smile, Alena caressed your cheeks with her cold hands. “What beauty,” she pronounced in wonderment, then she snapped her head towards Jaehyun, “No wonder you’re in love with her.”

Your eyes widened as Alena pressed her lips to yours. She penetrated your mouth to taste the flesh inside, and all you could was whimper.  She pulled away with a sneer. “Tell me, did he put his cock inside you?”

You choked on your own saliva and you’ve found it hard to answer. Is that why she kissed you? To taste Jaehyun with your mouth?

“No.”

The next thing you felt was Alena’s palm on your cheek. You gasped at the intensity of her slap.

“Liar,” she sneered the same time Jaehyun shouted your name. “Don’t fucking move, Jaehyun,” Alena warned as she grabbed a handful of your hair.

Jaehyun was on his edge. He had his soles buried to the ground. One movement and he would sprint towards Alena with his bared fangs. But he didn’t do it. For there was a dagger pressing on your side, straight right to your ribs. He knows that however swift he could be, Alena was still a vampire. She has the same fleetness as him. If not more.

You gulped down a cry. Everything will be alright— you forced yourself to believe.

“Now, I’ll ask again,” Alena whispered, “Did he put his cock inside you? Did you make him fuck you like a whore that you were?”

“N—”

“You underestimate my power, human. I could taste him in your mouth: the pleasure, your moans, the way he climaxed because of you.” She let out a peevish chuckle. “I know it all. Because we’ve fucked each other all around this mansion. Jaehyun fucked me right where you stand.” She pressed her lips behind your ear. “So, don’t lie to me.”

You gulped the shame and the fury all at the same time. “I’m not lying to you— ah!”

“Stop, Alena! Stop!” Jaehyun stepped forward. You cried out as Alena pushed the tip of the dagger to your ribs. Then Jaehyun stood still, his teeth bared in utter rage. “I will kill you.”

Her laughter pierced your ears, then she grabbed your hair forcefully, hurting your neck in the process. “1803 was the year I crawled out of my mother’s womb,” Alena began. “How many years have I been a vampire, Y/N?”

“Two hundred years!” you whimpered.

“I’m old, am I?” She chuckled. “But I know someone younger than—”

Bits of soil stuck to your cheek as you fell to the ground. It happened too fast— Jaehyun sprinting and pouncing Alena behind. You crawled and stood up on your feet, clutching the back of your head as it throbbed painfully.

The sound of muscles slapping to one another dominated the night, willing you to face around. Then you saw Jaehyun combatting Alena. Their teeth were bared— their pupils raging like lava. With a blow, Jaehyun staggered.

“Run!” he croaked before he toppled over the ground once more.

Where do you run? You have no idea. Your heart was beating too painfully inside your ribcage, and the pulsating of your wound from Alena’s dagger slowed you down.

You have to find the oak tree. All isn’t lost.

Once again, you tasted the bland soil when someone attacked you from the back. Doing her best to snap your spinal cord, Alena clutched a handful of your hair from behind. Again. You cried out in pain, but it didn’t last long. Jaehyun grabbed and tossed her to the ground before jumping on her. He had her dagger right in front of her chest, while she had her hand wrapped around Jaehyun’s throat.

You sat and crawled away from them. Whimpering and fighting the sore vibration of your bones.

“But I know someone who’s younger than me,” Alena managed to say. Jaehyun struggled to draw the dagger nearer, for Alena’s grip on his neck was viselike. “Why don’t you tell her when did you become a vampire, Jaehyun?” Her chests rumbled with the familiar laugh she echoed.

You tried to catch your breath. That… you didn’t surely know. When did Jaehyun become a vampire?

“Ask him,” Alena ordered.

You wanted to grab the nearest stone and throw it right to her face. But the question left a cumbersome force to your chest, pulling you under until you find it hard to breathe once more.

“R… run, Y/N,” Jaehyun stated through his suffering.

You stood up and ran. Towards where? You don’t exactly know. If Rhianon is still inside, now is the best time for her rescue. But before you could make it a meter away from the brawling vampires, Alena echoed something which drew you in a halt.

“Tell him when did your parents die!”

You whirled and saw Jaehyun clutching his stomach to the ground, with Alena’s foot on his side. Your eyes widened but before you could do anything, Alena picked up the dagger from his hand and sprinted towards you.

Alena was behind you when she whispered, “I promise, I’ll let you both go to live your love story. Just say the words.”

Jaehyun stood up. “Don’t listen to her.”

“I swear on the Athanar, and to whatever god there is, I’ll let you go in peace,” she said, you could almost drink the sincerity with it. “Say it.”

With parched lips, you said, “My parents died ten years ago.”

Jaehyun stilled, as if he was punched by a solid mitt.

Alena sneered behind you. “Ten years ago, I turned Jaehyun. It’s a coincidence, is it not?”

Your heart dropped. The rope of hope that seems to hold you had already snapped. If Alena would let go of your arm, you would surely collapse to the ground.

What a cruel joke. A tear slid down your cheek. All this time— the murderer was right in front of you.

“Did you kill my parents, Jaehyun?” you managed to cry out.

He was lost for words— lost for anything as he stared at you, flabbergasted beyond reckoning. “I… I didn’t—” Jaehyun’s eyes widened. “Y/N!”

His apoplectic snarl was the last thing you heard. Along with the sound of your flesh tearing as Alena drove her dagger behind you. You gasped and looked down at the protruded tip before froths of blood bubbled from your mouth. As you felt the life slowly leaving your lungs painfully, you knelt on the ground.

Alena’s voice was vacant as she said, “You love her. Now, mourn for her.” She disappeared, leaving the dagger into your body.

Before you fell face-first to the ground, Jaehyun caught your body in his arms. The world faded away as the life in your eyes died. Your irises were coated with unshed tears, staring up at the heavens lifelessly.

Vampires couldn’t cry. So Jaehyun held you with his arms, his mouth hanging open by grief. “No, no, no,” he chanted hopelessly, brushing away the strands of hair from your face, painting your cheek with your own blood from his fingertips. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N.” He shook your body while screaming your name.

But he was a devil. So the gods didn’t hear his prayers.

“Y/N!”

Jaehyun sat there, with your lifeless body. With the moon and the stars staring down at him with pity.

No one heard him— no gods had saved you. They didn’t allow you to have answers. They let you die without knowing who really killed your parents.

Jaehyun couldn’t tell himself. He was dazed when he crawled out of his grave. But one thing is for sure— he wouldn’t let you die in vain.

… and he wouldn’t let you die at all.

Jaehyun took your wrist. He bared his fangs, allowing vampire venom to coat the tips of his teeth.

The stars stared in horror, and the clouds grew heavy with grief. The rain fell.

With the moon as the witness— Jaehyun bit you.

[raichoose-moved-again]

Tags - Muses, Pt. 3

[raichoose-moved]

You can pretend you’re alone in the woods - it might even make you feel better. But you’re being watched, all the same.

You always are.

[astrognossienne]

birthdays: 4 - the unabashed social climber

My dabbling in birthday numerology has resulted in a ridiculously viral and classic post on my tumblr that goes through all the birthdays. The total sum of all birthdays essentially adds up to a range of numbers 1-9. In that post, I provided snapshots of the personalities of these birthdays. Now, here, on my website, I shall expound further as to why I came to these conclusions. To continue this series, we'll get into my other least favourite birthday number: 4.

4, 13, 22, 31: humanitarians, romantic, penetrating, provocative, faithful, pragmatic, reserved, immature, nakedly ambitious, tries too hard to be omnipotent, controversy always seems to surround them, savage for no reason, prides themselves on being infallible but are utterly fallible, know-it-alls, critical, anxious, smart-mouthed yet very sensitive (almost too much so), proud, tries hard to be individualistic but in reality is just like everyone else, very shady, can be and is often very disrespectful, patronizing and egotistical, needs their ass kissed, due to their vast insecurity and inherent inadequacy they have a need to conquer others and if they can’t do so then they will try very hard to destroy them, wayyy too sensitive and resorts to being caustic and abusive when they’re hurt (which is all the time), tries too hard to act/look/talk hard, can be tough but sweet, can be quite judgmental, always working, likes to one-up people, needs control and is often very self-controlled, often fake, passive-aggressive, very opportunistic and savvy, great at making friends, very contradictory and hypocritical, often very talented and hardworking, competitive, inspires others, wants to be known as kind and great in everyone’s eyes, almost always supremely unlikable individuals, often downright repulsive, has low self-esteem and projects it on others, often has hidden motives, adroit in using people’s emotions for their own ends

I think I pretty much summed them up there. Those who have these birthdays (especially those born on the 4th and 22nd) are the ones who I'm the most indifferent towards and amused by, but in the interest of fairness, let's dive into the psyche of these people, because if nothing else, they're moderately interesting psychological case studies.

When I think of 4's, I think of the character Eve Harrington in the classic film All About Eve. They're hurt, bitter, broken, miserable insecure bitches and often have low self-esteem and inadequacies within themselves, but they cover it up with false "self-love" and "assertiveness" which is actually condescension, aggressiveness, cockiness, and arrogance. This is evidenced in their unabashed social climbing they do. All social climbing have one thing in common: they seek to increase the social climber status by attacking and taking status away from others. They revel in this, since in their mind it secures their power over others, which is very important to them. They're often sad cases with attitude problems. They can’t, or don’t know how to reconcile their pain in a healthy way, so they direct it back out in mean, cruel, and insensitive ways - hurting others just because they were hurt. This process works only briefly, and usually generates extreme guilt in the person, making them stop for awhile. But, the pain of their past hasn’t been healed, so once again they try to bleed off the pain by hurting someone by being mean or rude. It’s like draining the pressure in a boiler. They know they’re inferior and broken, so they take it out full force on the people they envy and those whose true authentic power that they want. They often say what they don't mean. They're also forces of nature, and they somehow always seem to draw deep emotions out of people, and a lot for people seem to be deeply drawn to them. Fours, in turn, are often drawn by those who know how to control their emotions and make them work for them as well as those who have a deeper well of emotion than they and aren't scared of displaying it.

They have the amusing paradox of being mean AND hypersensitive at the same time, but the key is if one feels that these people are actually worth the time you have to take to get to know them, ignore their natural walls, abnormal need for control, rudeness and meanness, and love them anyway. If one can get through to that hurting part and heal and love it, these individuals can be loyal and even amazing friends for life. (incidentally, it's for this reason that I always seem to see these individuals deeply connected to 2's, 5's and 9's because I think 4's sense in them a kindred spirit, or someone they can use this strange type of "love" on and still feel accepted. But I'll cover those numbers at a later date). It might seem crazy, but a common way these people try and pull their partner/friends close is by expressing anger (of which there is a lot of) and unneeded childish aggression, often ruthlessly attacking perceived weaknesses.  It usually works in the opposite way (unfortunately), but often underneath the anger is a strong plea for connection and love. The anger is a mask of protest about not getting that love. They like to create conflict and are very restless. They’re whiny and their edginess is based on their M.O. that "people want to hurt me; I must hurt them first to be safe". They’re often very petty and very small and are too selfish to show any real compassion for those going through a tough time or a tragedy, often pouring salt on the wound (although strangely enough, they're often touted as paragons of compassion and virtue).

They're not satisfied with the ordinary, and more often than not they do tend to lead extraordinary lives. They have an accessibility and a mystery at the same time. They can be calm and insanely disciplined. But they are also very fiery and passionate, and often make rash and headstrong decisions and can be very immature and insecure about themselves because of the need for balance that the number 4 suggests. They can also (only when seriously evolved) be inspirational, using their talents to move masses of people in a way very few can, such as Barack Obama (August 4), and obnoxious personalities like Beyoncé (September 4), her husband Jay-Z (December 4), and their friend Justin Timberlake (January 31 [another classic case of the low-level 4]). They are victims masquerading as warriors and use their victimhood as a weapon and other opportunistic tactics to cement their power. However, there is a lot of fixed-sign-esque (especially that of a Leonine/Scorpionic nature) ego associated with the number 4, and this requires everyone to bow down and kiss their ass. If the 4 doesn't get this type of treatment, then they'll destroy everything and everyone in their wake to assuage their hurt feelings and damaged ego, such as it is in the case of Meghan Markle (also born on August 4) and what she and her husband Harry are currently doing to the Royal Family.

Meghan tried to gain unconditional and total acceptance from them/England/the world. Since she didn't get it, she and Harry took their ball and went home" by backing out of the Royal Family and the duties associated with it and moving with their children to America, effectively cutting themselves off from Harry's grandmother, brother, and ailing grandfather. Which brings me to another point about 4's: they like to do things on their own terms, often alienating others along the way to satisfy themselves. Now that Meghan has had time to think about the "abuse" that she feels that she has received, she's going to get her ultimate revenge by trying to destroy the Royal Family with allegations of racism and mental/emotional abuse. Note: it wasn't a problem when they were courting, and it wasn't a problem when they got married, but since she didn't get the "kid glove" treatment she wanted, now they're a "racist family". I often wonder, if the firm/tabloids/press went after Princess Diana so brutally, as blonde-haired, blue-eyed and pretty as she was, what did Markle honestly expect? This speaks to the 4s often shocking naivety. Also, Markle kept referring to Kate Middleton in her interview, so that means that she's fixated on Kate as a point of envy. This is how hate and negative emotions will cause things to change and often unnecessarily so.

On the positive side (only when evolved), 4's can be active, hard-working, systematic, diligent, careful, objective, firm, introverted, serious, patient, reserved, thoughtful, sensible, analytic, calm, orderly and loyal. For those born on the 4th, 13th, 22nd, and 31st, this describes them in a nutshell.

[officialwagnerrant]

Wagnerrant Review #3: Das Rheingold  im Hafen

Work: Das Rheingold House: Theater Regensburg Date of performance: 03.07.2021

Team Director: Andreas Baesler Conductor: Chin-Chao Lin With: Adam Krużel, Brent L. Damkier, Oliver Weidinger, Philipp Meraner, Seymur Karimov, Selcuk Hakan Tiraṣoğlu, Vera Egorova-Schönhofer, Deniz Yetim, Tamta Tarielashvili, Anna Pisareva, Vera Seminiuk

Review: @dichterfuerstin

It’s already a tradition and always sold out: For the third time Theater Regensburg rented out the Bayernhafen, a port in the east of Regensburg, to put on an opera. Two years ago, it was Tosca, four years ago, the first open air spectacle of this kind, it was Der Fliegende Holländer. This year the  theater took on the ambitious challenge and produced Das Rheingold. Needless to say, when 800 additional tickets got released, I grabbed a front-row seat and went to check out this production.

Abridging an opera is one thing. Abridging a Wagneropera is another. With lyrics and music being so tightly connected, with leitmotifs and nothing even remotely resembling an aria, it seems nearly impossible to put on anything that isn’t the original. Theater Regensburg did it anyway: They staged a version of Das Rheingold edited and abridged by  Eberhard Kloke, lasting merely 90 minutes, reducing the libretto and completely omitting Donner an Froh. I’m not sure why they went for an edited version. There aren’t any restrictions on how long an opera can be, and as long as you have a testing concept you can also have productions of unlimited size. They also don’t lack singers. I could name a handful of singers working at Theater Regensburg not employed this evening.

Much to my surprise the abridged version worked out musically. Without having a score or libretto at hand, which I obviously did, you’d barely notice the changes, especially as a non-Wagnerian. However, some of my favourite parts got omitted. I never again want to se a Rheingold without Donner’s iconic call. The abridging was actually most noticeable in the plot. Due to shortened conversations the only characters ever mentioning Freia’s golden apples were the two giants, which resulted in a rather sudden decision to go to Nibelheim, and Froh’s absence eventually resulted in Loge being low-key in love with Freia. This however turned out to be a showcase for Brent L. Damkier who not only proved he could sing an excellent Froh but was also a more than satisfying Loge. He isn’t what I’d call a character tenor, yet his voice fit the part perfectly. Together with his nice acting he made up for the weaknesses of the shortened libretto and his costume, which could have been way more fiery. While he profited from the shortened libretto, Fasolt, sung by Seymur Karimov, suffered. The abridged libretto left him with not much more than two lines. One of the nicest characters in the entire opera got lost this way, together with an amazing voice. Karimov is one of the best singers Theater Regensburg has to offer. His voice and acting would have landed him Alberich, or at least a longer Fasolt if I had been in charge of casting this production. Overall, the singers were good. An important mention is definitely Adam Krużel who has sung at Theater Regensburg for 30 years and who will now retire, after having done a fine Wotan. Singing this powerful role must be a satisfying last performance for him. The audience thanked him with lots of applause.

Being open air, the theatre obviously used micmicrophones and speakers, and sitting very close to one of the speakers, it was clearly audible for me that the sound was not coming from the orchestra and singers performing live on the other side of the water, which is why it took me a while to get into the performance. This got better during the performance and in the end I was fully invested in the musical experience, until the director decided that the best time for the finale fireworks is while the final orchestra bit is still playing. This is not only unfair towards the audience, but also towards orchestra and composer.

The rest of the production is more difficult to judge as it initially was supposed to be put on indoors. As this wasn’t possible due to corona, director Andreas Baesler had to move. Adapting a concept for a moderate sizes opera stage to the 200 meters long harbour stage is a challenge that needs to be kept in mind. Andreas Baesler made the best of it: Following the tradition of previous open air productions he incorporated the setting into his production, for example by letting the giants sit in two cranes. However only for their first appearance, after this they walked on the ground and were the same size as anyone else. As the audience sat far away from the stage it was hard to recognise the singers, especially ALberich, who’s costume had the same colour as the backdrop. This is why the production was supported by projections on the Stadtlagerhouse, a huge building serving as the backdrop of open air productions, created by Clemens Rudolph. While the pictures were hard to recognise at first, they helped understanding the plot after dark, by establishing the setting of the scenes and sometimes showing close-ups of singers. The only thing I did not like about the projections was the lack of continuity regarding the Rhinemaidens, who’s singers only got on stage for the final bows, during the performance they remained in the orchestra tent. In the final scene Rudolph projected video footage of swimmers, in the opening scene three dancers on a boat acted as the rhinemaidens, thus making the water part of the stage and allowing Alberich to actually pull the gold, a giant golden ball, out of the water. Personally, I’d appreciate it if the same characters were portrayed by the same singers. However, I understand why the decision was made: Recognizing projections in daylight is hard, and having three women dance on a small boat in the dark is dangerous. Overall the lack of continuity is something I noticed in this production a lot. The costumes did not fit together at all. While Alberich was dressed in gray, old-looking clothes, the giants had neon coloured suits resembling rain jackets, while the Rhinemaidens on the boat wore flapper-style dresses with fishtails underneath. It seamed like Baesler struggled to decide on a concept.

While the fireworks and the lack of continuity were off-putting, I’d still be lying if I said I did not enjoy the evening, as did the rest of the audience. The singers were good, the atmosphere nice, and it’s a pity the planned second performance had to be cancelled due to the weather – when cast, crew and audience had already arrived at the location.