#the tiger leaping over the water was insane

[aglimpseofsomethingintimate]

Who is Xiang?

Background

Xiang has always been written as the representation of the wild, symbolized by the Tiger (thanks @archduke-enver-gortash for feeding this concept). Now I’m thinking of making Xiang an actual manifestation of that concept and not just a metaphor for all the complexities of what the South China tiger represents to China and its relationship to humans.

I’m usually a realistic fiction writer— as you could probably tell from my insane footnotes for historical accuracy lol— but I’ve been thinking of including some more folklore/not quite human aspects to his character and by extension, possibly his and 37’s story.

This folklore aspect is connected to his background/that era as a lot of cultural Chinese artifacts are destroyed as well as suppression of traditional Chinese religion and traditions during the Cultural Revolution in the 1960s and other fun stuff. 👍

-

Backstory

The South China tiger used to be very prominent all over China, although by the time it was recorded it had recessed to the south part, in provinces like Guangdong, hence its name.

During the 1950s, as part of the Four Pests campaign, there was a targeted campaign to hunt down animals perceived as enemies/predators of the people. One of the animals that was targeted was the South China Tiger, and this tiger-hunting campaign dramatically reduced the South China Tiger’s numbers within only a few years.

The Four Pests campaign was part of the political movement of the Great Leap Forward… that ended up causing the Great Famine due to manmade causes including imbalance of the ecosystem, especially the widespread killing of sparrows, which resulted in uncontrolled crowds of lotuses descending on fields. The official name in Chinese has this timer period lasting three years, and there is debate by scholars on whether it ended in 1961/1962. Either way, the following facts still stand.

Xiang is born in 1962– the year of the Water Tiger. That is also when the Great Leap and accompanying Great Famine end, the latter being one of the most devastating manmade famines ever.

Xiang is the Tiger— or at least an aspect of it. But what his birth represents is more ambiguous. What is it? A second chance? A rebirth? The symbol of the last wild tiger remaining? The South China tiger has been functionally extinct in the wild for decades in present day— and YES that is why I choose this subspecies of tiger to begin with. This ‘extinct in the wild’ category ties into Xiang’s anger, fear, disgust and violent repulsion at the idea of being trapped or tamed.

It should be noted, however, that even though the South China tiger now only exists in conservation habitats there is recognition of the importance that they not be tamed. They are still wild animals, and there have been active programs to teach captive cubs how to hunt that have been successful.

His birth is a miracle— as in an unnatural act— and whether it is good or not depends on your point of view… just like the complex relationship tigers have to Chinese culture.

The tiger is used to symbolize danger/consequences/something bigger and more powerful than yourself in many idioms and sayings— but because of this it is also often something to be compared to positively/aspire to. There is this simultaneous reverence and fear of Tigers, and even now Chinese culture and society struggles with these conflicting views of the importance of tigers in culture vs the commercialization of them by the industry.

And if you’re interested as to how this conflict is resolved/ends… that is explored in his and 37’s story. ♥️ coming soon

[angelictaehyun]

PAIRING: guardian angel!taehyun x fem!reader

GENRE: guardian angel au, soulmate au, fluff, angst

WC. 4,700+

WARNINGS: minor alcohol usage, mild language, recklessness, and illegal activity (egging an ex’s house because y/n’s a dumbass)

SYNOPSIS: Kang Taehyun, a sassy, young guardian angel, didn’t think anyone could be more of an absolute mess… boy, was he mistaken.

PART ONE || PART TWO || INTERLUDE || PART THREE

.

For an angel, Taehyun was quite possibly the biggest pain in the ass. It had been half a year since you first met him and despite your many, many impressive effort, you couldn’t escape him—his presence both overwhelming and never-ending. Much to your dismay, you were attached at the hip. It was simple, wherever you went, he followed. He constantly hovered over you, his beautiful, round eyes always filled with slight judgement and concern. 

It was always: “No, Y/N, you can’t keep drinking coffee as a meal replacement,” or “It’s pretty chilly outside, you should put something else on,” and of course, your favorite, “Don’t you think that’s too much butter to put on pasta?”

You didn’t ask for his opinion, not even once, yet he gave it to you anyways. 

But as much as you hated to admit, having him around wasn’t the absolute worst. 

You enjoyed living with someone else. You had been on your own for far too long and it was starting to get lonely. As annoying as he was, you began to feel very… comfortable. His incessant judgment was absolutely maddening but you couldn’t help notice the calm, blissful feeling that washed over you when he was in your presence. 

It was a feeling you welcomed with open arms. 

· ──────────────────── ·

It had been at least a month since you last gave your ex-boyfriend, Yeonjun, a proper thought. You were too busy trying to keep yourself from fighting a literal angel, an issue you never thought you’d ever have. You were happy to say that Yeonjun was becoming a mere, insignificant memory—until you went grocery shopping the following week. 

You were mindlessly hunched over the shopping cart as Taehyun diligently scanned the food label of a cereal box. 

“Are you sure you want Frosted Flakes? There’s so much sugar in just one serving, there is no way this can be good for you. And just look at the tiger on the box! Tony? Tony the Tiger? He seems suspicious and I don’t like his stance. If he were real, I’d definitely throw these han-” he promptly cut off as he saw your body still. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, waving his massive hand in front of your face.

When you didn’t respond, he followed your gaze only to be met with a tall mess of blond hair standing next to a much smaller girl. They seemed as if they were in their own little world, giggling and sharing shy smiles as they shopped. Taehyun knew it was Yeonjun, and he was almost positive the girl next to him was the same person he cheated on you with. Taehyun trained your eyes back onto your broken figure and saw the way you tried holding back a breakdown—the dull ache in his heart mirroring your own perfectly. 

The happy couple didn’t notice your presence and before they could, Taehyun was dragging you into the dairy aisle.

“Y/N, look at me,” he pleaded softly. 

His eyes searched your blank face for any sort of emotion but all he saw was the pain you held in your eyes. He reached for your hand and when you didn’t respond, he pulled you against his chest in a tight embrace. Over the past couple of months, you both had grown so incredibly close. Despite all the irritation you caused each other, you both slowly began to seek each other’s touch for comfort no matter how small. When you watched TV, your head would always be on his lap as he played with your hair. When he cooked, you were by his side, resting your head on his shoulder. When you grew tired, he would hold you against his chest and stroke your hair, lulling you to sleep. You don’t know when either of you crossed the unspoken line of love, but neither of you wanted to go back. 

At that moment though, he knew you needed comfort. You might not have loved Yeonjun anymore, but it still hurt. Taehyun pressed a kiss to the crown of head, the act feeling completely natural to him at this point in your confusing relationship. Your body relaxed, just slightly, as he ran his hand down your back. When you pulled away, he gave you a shy, dimpled smile, and your heart twitched, except it was with longing instead of pain. 

The car ride home was silent. He kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other above your knee. He didn’t say anything, fearing angering you further, so he just let you be. 

But the silence just allowed you to simmer in your rage. 

· ──────────────────── ·

Later that night, he sat on the opposite side of your couch as you nursed a bottle of tequila. He kept his distance, though every fiber of his immortal being wanted to hold you and drive off all your agony. 

Eventually, you spoke up. 

“I want revenge.” Your voice was hoarse from staying silent for so long. 

“Huh?”

“I said, I want revenge. He cheated on me, broke my heart… he didn’t even have the stomach to come clean about it after I caught him in the act. He’s a loser and a coward, and I want revenge,” you explained. Your flat, gravelly voice had Taehyun cringing. Your usual honeyed voice was his favorite sound, it hurt hearing you this way. 

He needed to raid your pantry though, the amount of alcohol you consumed whenever you were sad was extremely concerning. 

“Look, I understand, I hear you. However, revenge isn’t going to fix your hurt. Growing and allowing yourself to move on is the best revenge. You were so close to never thinking of him again, why can’t you just try to do that again?” 

You ignored his question. Your logic was simple, if you focused your attention on Yeonjun, you wouldn’t have to dwell on the fact that you fell in love with a certain, irritatingly smug angel. 

“That’s complete and utter bullshit, I want to do something. Be proactive. Spray paint his house, egg his car. Something. Anything.”

“You’re insanely drunk. And there’s absolutely no way I can let you do this. Not only is it illegal, it’s against moral code and as your  angel, I have make sure you don’t do anything stupid,” he cautioned softly. 

He could practically see the wheel in your brain churning slowly, your inebriated state hindering much of your cognitive ability. He continued, “Why don’t you get some rest, yeah?”

You huffed and turned away from his gaze. You were acting childish and of course you knew he was right, but you couldn’t help your anger. Obviously, you weren’t still hung up on Yeonjun; you were just outraged that he dared cheat on you, only to face absolutely no consequence. You peered up from your tequila bottle and flashed Taehyun a pleading gaze and small pout. His heart soared and he knew in that moment, he’d break every law on Earth to make you smile. 

He also knew at that moment that he was inexplicably screwed. 

“Fine. Nothing dangerous, though,” he unexpectedly blurted out. His eyes went wide, he had no idea where that came from but he immediately regretted it. 

You slammed your bottle on your coffee table and leaped up from your seat. You threw your arms around him, making him flinch. You reeked of alcohol but he paid no mind as he focused on having you in his arms again; all his regret trickled away as he felt the warmth of your body on his. 

“Thank you, Tae,” you giggled as you beamed up at him. 

He grinned as he glanced down at you making yourself comfortable on his chest, wrapping your legs around his torso, and resting your head in the crook of his neck. You fiddled with the hem of his sleeve as he circled an arm around your waist and embraced you tighter, placing his lips against his temple. Before you, he wasn’t one for such obvious affection (not that he had anyone to be affectionate with), but now he couldn’t help but always seek your touch, yearning to hold you. He rested his head on you and mindlessly traced his free hand along your back. 

Your breathing slowed almost instantly and he peered down to find you passed out across his lap, your lips parted and eyes glued shut. 

He smiled to himself. He picked you up slowly, so as to not wake you, and carried you to bed. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and stroked the stray hair away from your forehead as he tucked you under your warm comforter. 

“Sleep soundly, my love.”

· ──────────────────── ·

You ended up sleeping through the entirety of the next day, not awakening until dinner. He had a glass of water and ibuprofen waiting by your bedside, all too prepared for your unavoidable hangover; he had spent most of his day pacing around your apartment, restlessly waiting for you to wake. 

He was also hoping you were too drunk to remember anything you had said the night before, especially after he so foolishly agreed to allow you to act on your rage. Unfortunately for him, you had a knack for keeping your memory intact, even in your most inebriated state. Needless to say, when you appeared in front of him with four dozen eggs and a “stealthy” all-black outfit, he was disappointed but definitely not surprised. 

“Get up. We’re going out tonight.”

He sulked behind you, knowing there wasn’t much stopping you, regardless of how much he tried. All he could do was join you and make sure you didn’t do anything dumb, which proved a challenge because your plan was insanely stupid. 

You were practically buzzing with excitement when you arrived at Yeonjun’s place. You thought egging his car was exactly what he deserved. You unloaded your duffle bag which was packed full of eggs, making Taehyun groan. 

“Hey, you’re lucky I’m not slashing his tires or breaking his windows,” you argued. 

“... Right, I’m so lucky.”

He rolled his eyes and  continued, “This is dumb. Are you sure you want to do this? We can head back home and I can make us dinner.”

“No, Tae. I want to do this, it’s the least I should do.”

He huffed and conceded, sitting back with crossed arms as you began to throw the eggs at Yeonjun’s expensive car. Taehyun was disappointed, hoping you’d make the right decision, but really, he also could’ve done far more to stop you: for example, literally duct taping you to your couch. It’s his job to keep you safe and from doing anything dangerous, but when you flashed him your gorgeous, sparkling eyes and kind smile, he knew he couldn’t ever possibly say no to you. He looked on with a pining gaze as you had the time of your life, your mischievous smile lighting up the dim road.

He just wished that smile was caused by something not illegal. 

The sudden wail of Yeonjun’s car alarm snapped him from his inner dilemma and he focused on your frozen figure, though his attention was quickly drawn to the light emanating from Yeonjun’s bedroom window. He appeared at your side and began ushering you away but you stayed motionless. 

“Time to go… NOW!” You could clearly hear the panic in his voice. 

You still didn’t move and the small smirk on your face told Taehyun you wanted to get caught. You wanted Yeonjun to open his door and find you beside his car; you wanted him to see the havoc you wreaked, the eggs doing slightly more damage than just dripping yolk all over.

Yeonjun’s porch light flickered on as a mop of neon yellow hair stepped out into the chilly darkness of the night. His eyes narrowed as he adjusted his vision to try and discern your shadow, “Who’s there? I-I’ll call the police!”

Taehyun couldn’t risk having you caught so he grabbed your hand and began sprinting. The brisk wind harshly blew by you as you tried keeping up with him, his legs carrying him a speed far beyond your capability. Call it the adrenaline of nearly getting caught but you began laughing; a light and airy sound, one which was usually a siren song to Taehyun, but this time he couldn’t believe it. You could’ve been arrested and tossed in jail, and you were laughing?

He pulled you behind a bush and gave you an enraged look as you tried catching your breath. He, on the other hand, had his breathing controlled and had barely broken a sweat. 

Perks of being an ethereal being.  

“Oh my God! I can’t believe I just did that… I- can you believe it?” you asked, giggling. 

“No,” he deadpanned.

You pressed your lips together and rolled your eyes, “God, lighten up Tae. Everything’s fine, I didn’t get caught.”

He scoffed. He couldn’t believe that was your threshold for fine. “And if you did, then what? Huh? You think I want to watch over you while you rot in jail? What you did was careless and stupid, and I shouldn’t have let you do it, I don’t know why I even said yes.”

You took his much larger hand in your own, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. You found the easiest way to shut him up was by initiating any sort of physical contact. He relaxed under your touch as you cupped his cheek and gave him a small smile, “I’m sorry.”

Something felt different, as if half a year of confusing feelings were finally becoming crystal clear. 

Still holding your gaze, he anxiously pulled you against him and leaned in, letting his puffy lips graze yours. You closed your eyes and awaited a kiss that never came. 

From the opposite side of the bush, a siren began blaring and you both pulled away to see a police car speeding down the street. Before you could even process anything, Taehyun began glowing. His wings appeared from thin air and draped over your small frame, hiding you from the world. After what felt like an hour, Taehyun deemed the coast clear, and any lingering moment from the near-kiss dissipated instantly. 

You believed he was finished scolding you but were sorely mistaken as the entire ride home was him chastising you for being reckless. You kept silent as you took in his colorful admonishing. 

It shocked you that an angel could even speak like that. 

“—And that's the stupidest thing you've ever done and you’ve done a lot of stupid shi—”

You knew he’d continue ranting so you tuned him out and stared at the glowing moon. 

You thought about his lips: the way they looked, the way they felt. His lips were something you thought about way more than you cared to admit, and just the thought of them made your heart race. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked monotonously. 

“N-nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know you better than you know yourself.” You didn’t respond and continued watching the night pass by. 

He wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what you were thinking about; it was all he could ever think about, too. All he could ever think about was your lips and kissing you. He glanced over at your anxious frame and reluctantly placed a hand on your thigh in an attempt to ease your mind, but you just tensed, throwing him for a loop as you were usually so receptive to his touch. Now you just seemed uncomfortable. He removed his hand and placed it back on the wheel, keeping his eyes trained on the road. You didn’t hear another word from him. 

When you finally arrived home, you scrambled from the car and made a beeline to your bedroom, seeking space. He slowly trudged behind you, giving you the distance you desired. 

When he finally thought you were sleeping, he made his way into your room. It was dark but he could see your frame hunched over your knees as you nervously fiddled with your quilt. 

He placed himself on the edge of your bed, back facing you. Obvious tension filled the air as you both kept quiet, scared to say anything. He remained still and if it weren’t for the slight flutter of his wings, you would’ve assumed he was a statue. The silence was painful, eating away at you slowly. You climbed from your bed and headed to the living room, but as you placed your hand on your doorknob, you heard your bed rustle.

“Y/N,” he mumbled softly. 

You kept your back to him, hearing him shuffle as he approached you and stood with his chest against your back. He traced your arms lightly, making you swallow harshly as you blankly stared upon the wall ahead of you. 

“Please look at me,” he begged. 

He felt the hesitancy in your heart as if it were his own. He also felt your pulse quicken under his fingertips. You sighed and turned around slowly, keeping your head trained on the floor to avoid him. He lifted your chin with his index finger to meet your gaze but you still refused to look at him. 

“Please.”

It was the crack in his voice that broke you. You hesitantly met his eyes and your heart practically leaped from your chest. His gaze was always hard and piercing, but soft and longing when you were the subject of his attention. You wanted to look into those eyes for the rest of your life. 

He moved forward until your back was pressed against your cold bedroom door. His massive wings caged you in, almost acting like a protective barrier from the cruel world. He kept his hands on your waist as he rested his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. 

You positioned a hand on his chest and clutched the fabric of his hoodie, using your other hand to cup his face and caress his cheek. He leaned into your touch and sighed softly before tilting down to capture your lips on his. To him, your kiss was addicting, every single aspect of you was addicting. Your knees buckled under yourself but his grip held you in place, and you snaked a hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer while his hand gently rubbed your waist. The room felt warmer, a sharp contrast to the brisk, winter air outside, but with his soft lips on yours, you paid no mind. 

When you let up for air, your head was spinning, especially as he intertwined your hands and brought them to rest against his lips. You placed a soft kiss on his jaw and then neck, and he closed his eyes once more, savoring the moment. The silence was no longer painful, rather soothing. 

Neither of you spoke. Nothing needed to be said, both of you knew exactly what the other felt. 

Pure, unadulterated love. 

· ──────────────────── ·

The following month was domestic bliss. Every morning you woke in his embrace, this particular morning was no different. 

“Good morning, my love.” He pressed his lips on your shoulder and began littering your face with kisses. 

“Morning, love.”

“Sleep well?”

You hummed. 

“We should’ve gotten up earlier. Don’t you have plans with Beomgyu?”

You hummed again, still half asleep. 

“The sooner you get out of bed and meet him, the sooner you can come home and sleep,” he tried arguing. 

A flawless argument, you couldn’t argue with that. You popped an eye open and faced him, “I guess you’re right. Maybe… just another minute?”

Unable to say no to you, he snaked an arm around your waist once more and entangled his legs with yours. You sighed contently, his warm embrace nearly lulling you back into dreamland until he lovingly woke you up... again. 

You eventually made your way out of bed, Taehyun promising kisses as coercion for every task finished. When you said goodbye, he placed a kiss on your temple, then nose, then jaw, before finally settling on your soft lips. 

“Have fun,” he mumbled against your lips. 

You pulled him in by his hoodie, initiating another kiss, and he slid his arm around your lower back, trying to hold you as close to him as possible. His kisses were heavenly and you knew if you didn’t leave then, you’d never leave. 

It took nearly everything in you to finally pull away. 

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you more, angel.”

You peaked behind your front door, flashing him a sweet smile before shutting it behind you, and the second you did, he couldn’t help the unsettling feeling that rested in his mind, as if something was going to go wrong. There was an unknown finality in the kiss but he shook it off as worry for your wellbeing. 

While you were out with Beomgyu, Taehyun chose to wander around the beach near your old home. He found the ocean’s beauty alluring, much like you. He kept his glamour on, hoping for some peace as he searched the shoreline for the prettiest seashell he could find and bring home to you. It was nice, he enjoyed his time, the quietness of the beach refreshing compared to the bustling city he was so familiar with. It was relaxing and peaceful until he spotted a familiar, lanky figure awkwardly standing in the sand a couple of feet over. The boy’s white shirt was crisp and wrinkle-free, and his iridescent wings glowed harshly under the sun. He looked extremely out of place—anyone with a set of wings would. 

“Hey, Soobin. What’s up? What are you doing here?” he questioned, approaching the elder casually. It wasn’t often he saw an old friend. 

“We need to talk. It’s about Y/N,” Soobin explained. 

Hearing your name, Taehyun’s expression grew visibly brighter, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Soobin. He sighed, “It’s time you were reassigned.”

He went straight for the kill and he didn’t miss the way Taehyun’s soul shattered. The younger flinched back, “This is a joke, right?”

“It’s not… your new assignment came in yesterday. You’ll like him, he’s a bit of an old soul, but he’s been going through a lot since his divorce with his wife.”

“No.”

“Taehyun… ”

“I said no.”

“Taehyun, it’s what’s best for her,” Soobin calmly explained. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. 

“Best for her? You don’t know what’s best for her, I do!”

“C’mon, are you serious? You fell in love with her and if you don’t leave, it’ll negatively affect her life… look what happened at Yeonjun’s house. You never stopped her. You call that doing what’s best for her?” Soobin argued. 

“This is the happiest she’s ever been and I’m the reason. You’re going to take that away from her? Her happiness?”

“Exactly, you’re the reason. Problem is, she can’t fall in love with someone who won’t be able to grow old with her or have a family with her. You can’t be her happiness. She has to have someone that will look out for her and can separate their job from love, a new guardian angel.”

Taehyun fell silent. He didn’t think this could happen, he fell in love with you never even considering the way it could hurt you in the inevitable end. Realistically, it could never work; you had a clock attached to your life and he didn’t. It was only a matter of time before he would leave you. Or the other way around. 

“I love her,” he whispered.

“Yeah, Tae. I know. Which is why you have to do this.”

“Can I say goodbye? In person?” he pleaded. 

Soobin patted him on the shoulder in a weak attempt to console him. 

“No, that’ll only hurt her more. And I don’t think you’d be able to leave if you did.”

Soobin stood helplessly as the light vanished from the younger’s eyes. 

· ──────────────────── ·

The door slammed behind you as you made your way into your apartment, shedding off your oversized hoodie, “Hi, love. I’m home!”

Nothing. 

“Taehyun? Love?”

Still, nothing.

“Love? Where are you?”

He always promised to be there when you arrived home and he never broke his promise, but you couldn’t find him… your apartment was devoid of him. The only trace of him was a folded piece of paper placed beside a yellow rose on your pillow. As you examined the paper, you perceived what you believed to be a water stain that hadn’t dried yet, making you tremble as you hesitantly opened it. 

My love,

I have to say goodbye. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love but I did, and now I’m facing the consequences… I’m getting reassigned. I’m so sorry this is how you had to find out, I wanted to see you one last time but I couldn’t… I was cautioned it would hurt you too much. You’re getting a new guardian angel. He’s kind, caring, and so excited to meet you. You’ll love him, I know you will. He’ll help put you back together. 

Y/N, my love… graduate school, travel the world, fall in love again, but most importantly, please be happy. I want you to experience everything this world has to offer, you deserve it all. You deserve a life with someone you can grow old beside, someone who can love you unconditionally. I want it to be me. I want to be the one you walk down the altar to one day, the one you raise children with, the one to greet you as you come home from a long day… I desperately want it to be me. 

You are the love of my life, the sun in my sky, the light that guided me through the dark. I’m so thankful I could be a part of your life, even if it was just for a fraction of it. 

I don’t know if I can fit everything I feel for you in this letter but if there’s one thing you take from this, let it be that I love you and I’m so sorry. 

Y/N, I will love you until my last dying breath. 

With everything I am,

Taehyun

Your body was nearly on fire. Your heart was ripped to nothing as your mind ran wild. A choked sob escaped you and in that moment, for a fleeting second, you wished you could cease to exist. 

You shakily sank down your bedroom wall, grasping his paper and rose against your chest, numbly crying. You spent half the day in that position; your body was so tired and overwhelmed. 

You were paralyzed.

You were angry with him. So, so angry. But you were angrier at yourself. You were so naive and hopeful. Of course he’d leave, you weren’t going to be his last assignment, as much as you hoped you’d be. You were foolish, believing you could have him unconditionally. 

When your mind eventually ran blank, you were so disoriented, you couldn’t even process the soft glow forming across from  you. The glow gradually grew brighter, nearly blinding you but you paid no mind until from thin air, a young, handsome boy appeared by your side. You lifted your head painfully slow, ignoring the thrumming ache in your mind, and scanned him emotionlessly. He looked the same age as Taehyun but seemed to hold a completely different aura. 

If you felt any shock, it didn’t show.

The young boy saw you the same way Taehyun first did—round face, puffy eyes, dull skin, and lifeless. Much like Taehyun, when the boy first looked at you, his gaze held nothing but sorrow and pity. 

Nonetheless, he gave you a warm, welcoming smile and extended a hand.

“I’m Kai, your guardian angel.”

· ──────────────────── ·

Interlude: Sun and Moon >

[lihikainanea]

I'm with you, Bill has an amazing body that could be a swimmer. He doesn't need to be very muscular like his older bros. I love the long torso of this fibrous bitch

Anonymous said:

you have given me the lovely mental image of bill being a swimmer. perhaps him swimming while tiger watches? and she’s fuckin drooling over him glistening and soaked when he gets out? and he was hitting it pretty hard bc it’s part of his exercise routine so he’s all breathless and pumped up and she’s just o_o over her biiiiig dude

SWIMMER. BILL.

Fuck me.

FUCK. ME.

I need a minute to process that.

Listen, I’ve always had like...a really weird kink...for dudes who can swim. I think it’s probably rooted in my summers I spent as a lifeguard, and one particular summer in Wildwood with the hottest dude I’ve ever seen in my life. He was a fellow lifeguard, a little older than me, and he was everything great in this world. He was fucking hot and he had no idea how hot he was, and it was a summer of the raunchiest sex I think I’ve ever had.

It was fucking incredible. God, I still smile about it. The dude was a water polo player too, and I can’t even explain to you how strong he was. I am strong, I am very strong, but in the same way that a ballerina is stronger than a football player--this dude was insane. His functional strength was insane. I am a really fast swimmer, a really strong swimmer, but when we did laps together--this guy was honestly a fucking torpedo. He’d clear 5 lengths in the time it took me to do 2. This motherfucker would do the butterfly stroke in the ocean and he’d fucking catapult OVER the waves, he was so strong.

But like...watching these dudes work was a fucking privilege. I WAS a lifeguard and sometimes I would just stand there at my post and drool. All of them just seemed so tall, so long, shoulders like a fucking fridge though. Watching them power through the water was such a sight--they were like dolphins man, so strong and so powerful, and they were fearless. They’d go and get your stupid ass against a rip tide and haul you back to shore like it as nothing. The way they would leap out of their lifeguard chairs and go tearing down the beach, running like fucking gazelles before diving into the wave like a torpedo, zero-ing in on you.

Again, I WAS a lifeguard and I would look at these dudes and just be like...hjnnnnnnnguh you’re so hot.

And the thing is, Bill actually has the most perfect swimmer’s body. The wingspan of a fucking pterodactyl. Huge hands. An incredibly long, hydrodynamic torso with narrow hips. The longest fucking legs known to mankind, topped off with feet like fucking flippers. Bill is made to tear through the water at incredible speeds, and it’s a fucking shame and a crime against nature if he doesn’t swim somewhat competitively.

So like, I love this thought right. What if its exactly that? Maybe Bill was a swimmer in his teenage years, of the competitive nature with school or something. And he never really mentioned it to tiger--but they start working out together, because maybe Bill has to buff up a bit for a roll and tiger needed a little extra motivation to hit the gym anyway. Bill sweating, grunting, being all strong and shit is all the motivation she needs. But tiger is a competitive little shit, and no doubt a strong one, so she just keeps trying to slaughter Bill in the gym.

But then maybe Bill remembers how much he used to love to swim--maybe he’s at a hotel one weekend for a press junket and the hotel has a pitiful gym, but a real nice lap pool. So he dives in there, gets a few lengths in, and he thinks shit...this is nice.

So when he gets back home, he tells tiger to pack a different kind of gym bag. He takes her to the local lap pool, and tiger scoffs. 

“Really?” she asks, “I thought we were going to work out.”

“We are,” he smiles, “And maybe even a little friendly competition?”

“Bill, please,” she says, setting her bag down, “I was a lifeguard. Do you really want to lose this easily?”

“How about a wager, then?”

“Name it.”

“10 lengths,” he says, “Fastest one gets morning head for a week.”

“Shhhh,” she says, the cocky little shit, “Better rest those lips, baby. It’s going to be a long week for them.”

Bill doesn’t say anything, but the corner of his mouth tilts up in the faintest of smiles.

Tiger quirks a brow when Bill actually steps up onto the small podium to dive off of, because hell she was just going to cannonball in. But if he wants to be all serious about it, she’s game.

“Tell you what kid,” he says, “I’ll even give you a head start. 5 seconds. Steamboat seconds.”

But tiger doesn’t want any advantage, because when she kicks his ass--she doesn’t want him blaming something other than her sheer athletic superiority.

“Shove it, Big Bird.”

“Come on, ladies first. It’s only fair,” he waves his hand to the pool, but tiger just glares at him from her podium.

“You need it more than I do,” she snaps, “I heard that Swedes sink like icebergs.”

“Icebergs float, you idiot.”

“Hey uh,” a random stranger interrupts, because these two idiots are just standing on two podiums smack talking each other, “Do you guys want me to give you a countdown, so you can both go at the same time?”

“Yes please,” they answer simultaneously.

Bill swings his arms back and forth, and then he even crouches on the podium. Tiger just thinks it’s so cute. Using all the right ~techniques~ thinking it’ll actually help him.

“3....2.........” the dude says, “..1, go!”

And like, look. Bill could have cleared half the fucking length of the pool in just his dive, but like a good former competitor he sticks to the proper admissible length of the dive and then starts his dolphin kick.

And Bill just destroys her in the pool. Fucking destroys her. He tears through the water, his arms driving straight forth and cutting through as his legs kick. It’s a force to be seen, the speed that he glides with. He fucking destroys her. Tiger is barely done half the laps by the time Bill rolls into his final one, touching the far wall and then bobbing a little in the water to catch his breath. He gets out of the pool--just so that tiger can’t actually see where he’s at, and she really thinks she’s beating him--and then he waits.

And as she kicks forward in the final push and reaches the wall, Bill crouches down right above her, a cocky smile on his face. Tiger’s look of sheer shock when she comes up--shock that not only did he win, but he apparently won by such a large margin that he had time to exit the pool, catch his breath again, and then be hovering over her when she popped up--her look of shock is worth it all.

Bill cocks his head, water dripping from his hair down onto his broad chest, and smiles big at her. Tiger glares.

“How the fu--” she starts, but a condescending finger is smushed against her lips roughly.

“Shhhh,” he says with mock sweetness, “Better rest those lips, baby. It’s going to be a long week for them.”

[the-melting-world]

Firecat

Khleo x Balam

I’m not sure what I or @atypicalacademic have gotten ourselves into, but here we go 😭😭😭 Simply treat yourself to another 0 to 100 whirlwind oc x oc ship. Thank you Kannan for letting me borrow Balam! She’s absolutely delightful!

cw: some biting

~ 1.6k words

***

The tavern saw a new handful of regulars during the week. The only reason Khleo remembered their faces was because of one in particular. There was something vibrant about her, and it wasn’t just because of her bold, shifting shawls and chirping adornments. 

Her friends called her Balam. 

On days she wore magenta bracelets, her companions referred to her as she. On days the bracelets were silver, Balam was he. 

Today, the bracelets were magenta. Yesterday they were magenta. And the day before that.

Khleo spent most of the week hanging back to wait tables and clean booths rather than working the bar. In order to watch. Try and figure out where this patron’s magnetism came from. Maybe they were partial to the features they shared with Balam – tight, bouncy curls, youthful expressions, strong cuts of the jaws that helped to undermine that innocence.

Or maybe Balam was just very good at communicating from afar. With each visit, the patron would glance more often in Khleo’s direction. One time while Khleo was mopping a corner, they tested their theory with a very subtle flex of their arms as they slid the mop forward. Khleo looked over at Balam just before curling their biceps towards them. They flicked the mop and did it again, training their gaze to be coincidental, bland.

Balam had already been looking. But then she looked away. Not completely. Only briefly, to collect herself. She came back with a more confident gaze, working those dark lashes and her decorative brown skin to practically beam a lump into Khleo’s throat. 

This Balam, whoever she was, knew exactly what she was doing despite how subtle she went about it. And it made Khleo itching to pounce.

But it was late and the tavern was full of dinner patrons that night. So Khleo filed all that pouncy, gimme nonsense away for some other time. Then they put their assessment of Balam to rest, and got back to work.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before Khleo’s coworkers required their pouncing services. A fight had broken out and neither side was backing down. Khleo didn’t bother to see who was involved, they just jumped in. They didn’t waste their breath shouting at people to calm down like the other barhands. Their method of de-escalation was to remove the biggest threat. 

Tonight that happened to be the fiery, vibrant Balam. Khleo ignored the small hiccup between their thighs as they made an attempt to unhinge a glass that Balam was about to chuck at a nearby patron.

But Balam was slippery and still charged even though the rest were starting to calm down. She snatched her arm back from Khleo before they could get a good grip and danced backwards like a reanimated puppet. 

“Don’t make me chase you,” Khleo warned, their voice bored and unhurried despite the persistent thorniness they were dealing with elsewhere.

Balam ran. Khleo cursed under their breath and pursued. 

It was a wonder Balam was so fast with all those shawls and patchwork prints that clung to her lithe form. Khleo snarled when they saw where Balam was trying to run off to – the basement.

< Do you need some help? >

~ No, Hefe. I got this. ~

Khleo booked it faster than ever now, leaping over chairs, scrambling across countertops, ruining family dinners. Their boss was going to kill them.

They hoped it was all worth it when they finally caught up to Balam, slamming into her and pinning her down easily. The angry patron roared and thrashed like her whole body was on fire. But Khleo was ready to shut it down.

“You think you’re real cute, don’t you?”

Balam’s eyes were still unfocused and brimming wet rage. “Let go of me, you...”

Khleo jostled her. “Go ahead. Tell me what you think of me.”

By the time their gazes connected, Balam was blushing.

“Thought so. You can’t even say it.”

Balam exploded. “Overgrown housecat!” 

Khleo laughed. “Excuse me? If I’m a housecat, then what the hell are you?”

Balam’s eyes were dead serious. “A tiger.”

Khleo was enjoying themself, tracking the way Balam’s extremes entered and left her body so quickly. They felt the shift in the tension of Balam’s limbs too. It didn’t help to dampen their fire, but felt good all the same.

“A tiger cub maybe,” Khleo mused. “So tell me, cub. Why’d you have to go start shit in my bar? Day’s been hard enough as it is.”

Balam apparently had it in her to throw another tantrum.

“They started it! You’re telling me you’d back down if–” 

“It’s always someone else’s fault, isn’t it?” Khleo said quietly. “How about you demonstrate a little self control next time?”

 Balam hopelessly thrashed under Khleo’s weight. “I do have self control!”

“Oh yeah? Then show me now.”

Khleo made sure Balam’s wrists were secured above her head before dropping very close.

“Let’s see how long you last.”

Khleo coasted over Balam’s features, her nose ring, wide black eyes, her mouth – everything was magnified. Khleo took it all in, climbing that familiar high that moments like these always catapulted her to. That edge of giving in and holding still. That silence before a true strike. They could tell by the way Balam followed them that the cub knew nothing of that place. Never tasted that warm, hidden middle ground. Insanity’s hidden trapdoor. Tight and snug. Nowhere near cozy, but safe. Antidotal. 

“My name is Balam.”

Khleo ignored the distraction. 

“I know.”

Balam tried to snatch a kiss, but the barhand ducked their head over and down, latching onto the exposed shoulder peeking out from the shawls. Balam’s harsh cry echoed through the cavernous space.

“Quiet,” Khleo licked their lips and raised their head. “I didn’t even bite you that hard.”

They sat up straighter, deepening their seat, still holding Balam’s wrists.

“You want to be so bad... but you don’t come close. I’ve been exactly where you are.”

Balam’s eyes burned like black fire. “And look how much you’ve improved and moved up in the world. Congratulations, bartender of the year.”

Khleo kept their tone flat, but their grin wicked.

“A major improvement from where I came from, believe me. Look Tiger, you’re not going to find any low-hanging fruit,” Khleo made sure to gently grind against Balam’s leg for emphasis. They were satisfied to see her eyes threaten to roll back. “So I suggest that you quit trying to go for low blows while you’re ahead.”

The fire had finally gone out. Now it was replaced by water. Khleo let go of Balam’s wrists. 

“You need to cry, then cry.”

They started to get up, but Balam’s hands captured her thighs. “Wait.”

Khleo arched an eyebrow. 

“Can you… just stay right there for a bit?”

Khleo didn’t laugh or mock the patron in any way. The barhand anchored their weight against Balam’s abdomen and allowed her to process her emotions with dignity. When she was done, Khleo helped her to her feet and said, “Go out through the back door. Don’t come back here for a few days. It’ll give my boss some time to forget tonight. That way he’ll be less likely to ban you from the tavern.”

Balam hadn’t stopped staring at Khleo since she got to her feet. “What should I call you when I return?”

Khleo folded her arms over her chest. “Call me Khlee, Khleo, whatever you want.”

The patron sniffed one last time, and glanced toward the door. She moved as if she might go to it.

Khleo wasn’t gentle this time. They used their strength to their advantage as they snatched Balam back until she crashed right where Khleo wanted her. Then they engaged both their arms, locking her in and kissing her the way they wanted to when they had her pinned down earlier. As if Khleo desired nothing else than to see how much they could take, and take, and take some more.

What Khleo didn’t expect, however, was how eager Balam was to give. She fed Khleo her lips, her tongue, her moans like they were such an untimely burden that she was, by the gods, absolutely compelled to share– 

“Enough.” Khleo growled softly. The command was more meant for themself than Balam, but they were careful not to give anything away. When they opened their eyes and looked into Balam’s, they found that her expression was a rare breed of tame. It was the sort of docility that tugged at a different set of strings in Khleo, unlocking a new singularity of primal intention within them.

The way Balam quietly looked at the barhand, in reverence and easy obedience…. Khleo felt the need to flex a set of claws that they didn’t have. Dig them into Balam where it was too shallow for their own blunted teeth to pierce. To keep her somehow? From what, Khleo wasn’t sure.

“Mm.” Khleo’s throat rumbled, “You’ve got a lot of fire in you. I had to see what that tasted like…” they looked pointedly at the spot where they bit Balam. “Again.” Then they let the patron go. “Now get out of here.”

Khleo gave Balam a gentle push. Once again, she surprised the barhand by skipping away on light feet towards the exit. It seemed Balam couldn’t leave without the last word. Halfway out the door, she captured Khleo’s gaze one last time. “You taste of fire too.”

Khleo shrugged. “So?”

Balam smiled as she nodded sagely. “And of flowers. Wild ones. Daisies.”

Khleo was thankful for the dim light. Her face burned from Balam’s unexpected saccharine tongue. 

“You better get going, Tiger.”

Balam wasn’t finished. She leaned her head against the doorframe and batted those damn eyelashes again. “I’ll bring some for you, Firecat. Next time.” Her anklets chirped as she finally slipped out of the cave of brick and mortar and onto the street. 

Khleo stared at the door long after she had gone. She thought about Balam’s journey from the wrathful to the rational and back again.

Hefe emerged from out of the hearth. Illuminating the underground lair with her sheer size and pale, creamy coat, she became a lighthouse to call back Khleo’s drifting thoughts. 

< Firecat. That’s a new one. >

[winetae]

:: modern loneliness

⇨ prompt : android!hoseok x reader. 2205 words. drabble with a possible follow-up. it’s been 38 days since you’ve last seen and interacted with a living, breathing person and you’re slowly going insane.

.

[Week 1 of lock down.]

At first, you’re optimistic. 

Working from home comes with its own set of non-negligeable perks. Notably, no more commute time! No more squeezing in between sweaty men on the subway during rush hour just to get home. The new arrangement means that you’re no longer obliged to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to blow-dry your hair or meticulously put on makeup while stuffing a bagel into your mouth because you’re short on time. 

On Day 1 of quarantine, you roll out of bed and don’t even bother to change out of your pajamas. It’s quite the sight. Not that you care whether or not your hair looks like a bird’s nest or if there’s a small hole in your shirt. You’d gladly take your flannel pants and old university sweatshirt with the coffee stain by the collar over the rigid pencil skirt and stupid obligatory heels they force you to wear to the office. Ironing? You don’t know her. 

That’s not to say there aren't any inconveniences but as of now, the pros outweigh the cons. For one, you’re now allowed to add as much sugar into your coffee without susciting your coworkers’ judgement. You can blast angry rap songs while finishing your reports and no one will stop you. The list goes on. 

With all this newfound time on your hands, you have no more valid reasons to procrastinate. You start off by cleaning out the kitchen cabinets you’d been meaning to re-organize for months. Then you rearrange your wardrobe, dust off the top shelves of your bookcase that you usually skip over because no one can see them, and water the potted plants you’d been neglecting. 

It feels great to be so productive. Your friends tell you via FaceConnect that your productivity streak won’t last long, but you’re quick to shake off their doubts. 

“I’m a new me!” You insist when Mia’s laughter echoes around your empty apartment. “My life is back on track. I feel like a proper adult now that I’m not struggling so much to get everything done.”

“Sure,” she humors you. “Just don’t get upset when I tell you I told you so.”

.

[Day 8 of lockdown.]

Now that your apartment is cleaner than it’s ever been, you need to find other means of entertainment. According to the internet, now is the ideal time to learn a new language or acquire a new hobby, like crocheting or playing the guitar. But while it might be technically possible to learn a language, you’re definitely not an overachiever. You’re aware of your own limits. 

Today you try your hand at baking. To some it might not seem like a big deal. But for someone like you who solely uses the kitchen to boil ramyeon packets and chop the occasional vegetable, today’s venture into the world of cooking is the equivalent of a quantum leap. 

The molten lava cakes that come out of the oven 15 minutes later don’t look like the picture advertised in the online recipe. They don’t taste like how you’d expected, either. 

You try not to be too disappointed with your failed attempt. After all, it’s only your first try. Dry cakes aren’t that bad in comparison to the horrors that could have occurred. At least nothing is burnt and your oven is still intact. You’ll try again tomorrow with hopefully a little more success.

.

[Day 16 of lockdown.]

It turns out that baking is not for you. After numerous trials and errors you learn a few days later that you have no vacation to be a baker. You end up abandoning all attempts to acquire a new hobby and instead look for new ways to pass the time. 

Thankfully, your home server is offering free VOD for a limited amount of time, so you’re not short on distractions. You consume around half a dozen cult movies, the kind people always reference and quote without actually watching, before you finally begin crossing TV series off your to-watch list. 

You yawn. It’s 9 PM on a Saturday night and you’ve just finished binging the entire season of Tiger King. It’s the third show you’ve watched from start to finish since quarantine began and now you’re wondering whether you should start a fourth. 

“Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do,” you say before a grimace crosses your face. “Oh great... Now I’m talking to myself.” 

That can’t be a good sign, you think to yourself. How long has it been since you’ve last talked to someone? You used to call your parents every day but when there’s nothing new to report, the conversations become repetitive and dull. 

You should call Mia. Just to see how she’s doing.

.

[Day 24 of lockdown.] 

YOUR WEEKLY BASKET FROM FOODCONNECT HAS ARRIVED. ALL PURCHASES WILL BE ADDED TO YOUR MONTHLY EXPENSES CARD. REMINDER THAT DUE TO THE EXCEPTIONAL CIRCUMSTANCES, CONNECT CARDS ARE ALLOWED A 5000 EXCESS OVER FIXED LIMIT. TOTAL EXCESS HAS NOT YET BEEN REACHED.

.

[Day 38 of lockdown.] 

You’re browsing BH, hoping to restock your vitamins. Lately you’ve been feeling tired and mentally drained, despite your workload not being what it used to be. Why you’re so exhausted is a mystery you’ve yet to solve. In all logic, your energy level should be at an all time high now that you’re working less and spending all your free time lounging on the couch surfing the internet. 

According to the national health guideline, you’re supposed to be exercising an hour a day minimum in order for your body to remain in good condition. Your BODYCONNECT watch monitor beeps every hour to remind you that you haven’t completed the suggested activity. 

Ugh. 

You press the button on the side of the watch to turn the reminder off. It’s the fifth time you’ve had to silence it today but you can’t bring yourself to work up a sweat right this minute. You keep telling yourself that you’ll exercise later but like all things lately, later ends up being never. 

Come to think of it, this isn’t the first time you’ve caught yourself slacking off. Where did all your motivation during week 1 of lockdown go? You don’t even have the strength to do ten jumping jacks anymore; it’s like your bones belong to a person three times your age - feeble and brittle and threatening to break at a moment’s notice. 

LOW ON SEROTONIN? WE’VE GOT YOU COVERED. Flash promo over in 00:32:43! Limited offer while supplies last.

A bright yellow advertisement flashes on the top right corner of your screen. Intrigued, you follow the link without expecting much. The last thing you expect is to be brought directly to BH LAB’s homepage. 

“Um… I don’t think I have the budget for this…” You mutter under your breath and prepare to exit out of the page. 

Androids are usually employed by the government but the ones for sale to the general public are known to be exorbitantly expensive. 

A message reads: EXCLUSIVE 1 HOUR PROMO, 40% OFF YOUR FIRST PURCHASE. Click here for more details. Offer valid for new customers only. 

You pause and decide to click on the link. Looking around won’t hurt anyone, right? It’s not like you’ve decided to buy anything yet. 

The seven Dwellers available for sale are just as good looking as you expected them to be. Their unnaturally good looks and vibrant green eyes are what makes them easy to pick out from the crowd. 

You skim through each Dweller’s description. It seems that apart from the physical differences like their facial features and build, they each have their own specialty and characteristics. One of the best-selling models boasts the cooking ability of a 5-star chef, which you admit sounds very tempting since your skills with a knife are pathetic enough to make Gordon Ramsey cry. 

Another best-selling model specializes in...sex. You blink, your cheeks warming as you read over the model’s description (the “thick, vibrating cock that guarantees an orgasm every time!” comment makes you choke on your saliva). You can understand straight away why this particular model would be so popular. All of the models are pretty, but this one’s face doesn’t look like it’s from this world. Confinement would make anyone horny, and when promised a godly sex bot equipped with a vibrating dick, well…

Too bad you’re too tired these days to even think about having “mind-blowing sex for 5 hours straight.” Having such intense intercourse would probably make you pass out on the Dweller’s artificial cock, and there’s no way in hell you would want someone from CONNECT to intervene after receiving distressed signals from your body monitor. That would just be embarrassing. 

You’re about to exit out of the page, curiosity sated, when the last model catches your eye.

SEROTONIN BOOSTER. Low on energy? Feeling sad or depressed? Need a companion? 

This model is perfect for you! Model JHS is equipped with emotion sensors. They will fulfill your every need even when you’re not able to vocalize them. Stressed? They specialize in massages and are proficient in: Swedish massages, Aromatherapy, Shiatsu massages, Reflexology, among others. 

Personality : This model is energetic. They are very active and therefore requires a minimum 6 hours to recharge. They are extremely tactile and will easily engage in skinship such as hugs or holding hands. They are talkative and will hold passionate conversations with you about almost any subject. 

Likes : cleaning, working out

Dislikes : horror movies, strong smells

When reading the description, it feels they’re talking about a person rather than an android. You’re surprised to see that the Dwellers are programmed to have a certain personality that caters to specific needs because the only androids you’ve ever come across before are the government ones, and they’ve always been stoic and devoid of any distinguishing characteristic. 

It would be nice, you think, to have a companion. Someone you could talk to for real instead of through a pixelated hologram. As much as you enjoy your time alone, each passing day locked in your apartment makes you realize how much you long for a hug. You miss holding someone in your arms, feeling their heartbeat against your cheek and the rise and fall of their chest as they squeeze you back. 

Model JHS looks like he could fill that vacancy. Their smile is blinding, like they’re physically radiating sunshine through their expression alone. You don’t doubt their capacity to bring positive energy into your life. 

Before you can think twice about it you’re adding the model to your shopping cart. The site asks you if you want to pay more in order to customize them. For an additional fee, you’re able to tweak the Dweller’s personality or modify their physical attributes to your liking. You skip over the option. For one, you don’t have the funds to afford a vibrating dick enhancement and two, you’re more than satisfied with your Dweller as they are.

It’s not until you finish supplying all your information including your Connect Card details and shipping address that you realize what a monumental purchase you’re about to make and how empty your account will be by the end of it.

You stare at the price listed at the bottom of the screen and weigh your options. Even with the 40% reduction, it’s not a negligible sum. You could buy several models of the new Birkin bag you’d been saving up for with this money. 

Why purchase designer bags when you can’t even go out and use them? a voice argues. And - uh. Fair point. 

In any case, you’d have to stop shopping, eating out all the time and going on frivolous trips overseas. Not that you really have a choice, given the circumstances. 

You look at the laptop screen again. Are you seriously so touch-deprived that you’re willing to fork over that much money for a live-at-home android? Really? 

Fuck it. 

You click on [VALIDATE PAYMENT] before rationality has time to kick in and you change your mind again. Just as the screen changes and the new page loads, you feel your heart leap to your throat but it’s too late to back out now. 

PROCESSING ORDER …

...

CONGRATULATIONS! 

YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY ORDERED (1) DWELLER - JHS MODEL. WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE. 

(!) Your order is eligible for Instant Shipping (delivered to your door in 24 hours or less). 

(!!) Due to exception circumstances, your order might encounter delays. We are taking multiple steps to ensure the safety and hygiene of all products and shipments. For more information click here.

(!) All BH products are covered by a limited two-year warranty. Please refer to warranty details regarding your product in the Dweller E-HandBook, free for download here. Please register your product after purchase in order to qualify for future claims, returns, and support.

You expel the breath you’d been holding. Your father will throw a fit once he finds out you’ve blown all your money on a bot. The criticism is warranted.

What are you even supposed to say to defend yourself? You’ve bought a  Dweller on a whim while browsing for Vitamin C supplements.

Quarantine is really making you lose your goddamn mind, huh.

[dragonnan]

fanfic tag game

I was tagged by @disappearinginq​- these are the absolute best fun!

Questions:

Ao3 Name: dragonnan (same as everywhere: Psychfic, FFN, etc)

Fandoms: *cracks knuckles* You want, like, ALL of them?? Welp I’m obsessively listy so here we go:

Currently writing fic for: 

Sherlock

MCU

Psych

In the recent past wrote fic for (and may again as there are WIPs remaining):

SPN

HTTYD

Simon & Simon (as part of a crossover)

Lucifer

Wrote fics years ago but probably won’t write more:

Monk

Star Trek Voyager

Big O (as part of a crossover)

Wrote 1 or 2 fics but probably won’t write more:

Cowboy Bebop

Inuyasha

Lethal Weapon

Invisible Man (2001)

X Files

Quantum Leap

Fullmetal Alchemist

Haven’t published any fics yet but have (or had) ideas:

Doctor Who (specifically 10 and 11)

Burn Notice

Psych

Beauty and the Beast (1980′s series)

Moonlight

In Plain Sight

Star Wars

Haven’t had ideas but I love the fandom and may someday write fic:

Prodigal Son

Star Trek (TNG primarily)

MacGyver (1980′s)

Number of fics: Ummm.... It’s a little hard actually to parse that as some of my stories are posted as larger collections so let’s see what I can do...

Psych: 168 (give or take)

Sherlock: 8

MCU: 19

Other: 29

Total: 224

1. Fic you spent the most time on:  Can I even remember anymore?  I suppose Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth (Psych) which I think took me over 5 years to complete.  However, I wasn’t straight writing that entire time so not certain if it specifically qualifies?  Another contender is The Tiger and the Shark (Sherlock) which I posted pretty consistently and took about 2 years.    

2. Fic you spent the least time on:  I’m not counting those 100 word challenge fics cause, please.  I think the least amount of time I spent on truly legit stories would be one of these possibilities (cause fuck if I know for sure): Wibble Wobble Wibble Wobble To and Fro (Psych), A Good Heart (Psych), Making the Cut With a Squeeze of Lemon (Psych) 

3. Longest Fic: Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth (Psych) 104,522

4. Shortest Fic:  Promises to the Dead (again, not counting 100 word challenge fics), This Week on Psychfic - 280 words

5. Most hits: Just Pieces; Passion, Pain, & Parody (Psych fic collection.  Does that count?)

6. Most kudos: All Nighter (Psych)

7. Most comment threads/ reviews: Standing from Falling (Psych) 352 Reviews

8. Fave Fic you wrote: Ooohh screw this question!  Staawwwp!!! I can’t just pick A favorite but I gueeeesss I could narrow it to a few which out of over 200 damn stories you should be grateful I can narrow it down that much (of COURSE I love my own writing - that’s why I do it!).  I’ll also only include completed works: Psych - Suffer the Night, I Would Do Anything for Love; Even That, You Give Me Fever MCU - Just Another Day in New York, Did You Make it to the Milky Way to See the Lights all Faded, Simple Math Sherlock: The Tiger and the Shark, A Russian, Two Spies, and an Elephant

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on:   The Tiger and the Shark (expand) Fury (Psych) - rewrite

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:  How about both?

Untitled Iron Dad and Spider Son fic:

It started with sand.  Benign. Sorta... tan...  Fucking sand and yet there he was, trembling like he'd just spent the last two hours in subzero temps wearing nothing more than a speedo and a grin.

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony gulped; curling his toes before looking up at the young man across from him... who was wearing an expression that mirrored the anxiety thumping in Tony's chest. "Hey... you okay, Kid?"

Peter shrugged - his long fingers clenching and stretching.  "Y-yeah.  Sure!  I mean..." he swallowed, "not like anything bad happens at the beach, right?"

Tony tapped his teeth around his lower lip.  "It's just sand..." Not like sand ever hurt anyone...

Why were they there again?  Oh right; facing demons.  Because that shit never backfired.

The ocean was calm that afternoon. Behind them the sounds of the pier carried with shrill laughter and the cacophony of vendors, shrieking children, and seagulls.  Lots of seagulls - drawn to the scent of funnel cakes and french fries dominating the blend of scents that normally drew Tony, as well, but currently just twisted the pool of nausea threatening his pride.

Peter drew his focus back with a sharply drawn breath.  Then another.  Wind flicked the curls that had been pasted to his forehead with sweat.  Tony pushing his feet through the hot sand - too hot - a decade later and he still couldn't stand the feel of hot grains...  until he stood alongside the kid. Not looking away from the reflection of sunlight on water he nudged his elbow against Peter's arm.  "Not so bad during the day, yeah?"

Peter blinked rapidly - making something like a smile.  "No, yeah... way better." he nodded - looking about as convinced as Pepper would be at the prospect of birthing octuplets.

Tony pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose.  The most expensive shades on the planet and he still hadn't managed to stop them slipping down when he sweated.  He cupped his left elbow in his right hand and watched the para-sailors and jet skiis and swimmers splashing in the low waves.  No surfers; not that day.

He wouldn't have been there if not for Pete.  Kid's idea.  Apparently therapy was the new heroin.  Better come down, he supposed.  Even at that he'd tried for distraction, first.  Tony was nothing if not the Grand Master of distractibility. Offered everything from a road trip along the East Coast to helping the kid build a personal bot (who was he kidding, he planned both as a graduation present).  And, yet, here there were.  Revisiting trauma because what better way to spend a Saturday?

Story Idea - Doctor Who/ Doctor Strange crossover:

Plot: Stephen encounters a woman in a parallel world – a world protected, not by a Sorcerer Supreme, but by a man known only as “The Doctor”.  He soon finds out that this Doctor is unique among the worlds he's explored.  For all he has seen - all the beings he’s encountered, he has never met a woman with such energy coiled within the depth of her brain as the ordinary, redheaded woman he bumps into walking through a parallel London.  In fact, so powerful are the forces within her that he is immediately struck with a chaos of discordant images – of giant wasps and singing squid-like beings and screeching salt shakers and before he can even begin to understand it a face – eyes furious and dark – glaring from a raging fire. “GET OUT!  THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING! GET OUT, NOW, WHILE YOU STILL HAVE A CHANCE!”

Stephen figures out that Donna is slowly being consumed by the Time Lord energies locked inside her. The Doctor may have barred her memory but it still seeps through – with each exposure weakening the walls even more.  Eventually, it will consume her.    

This is not something he can fix alone, however.  He will need to track down the man who first created those mental blocks and left Donna behind to slowly go insane.  The Doctor.

Tagged: @sgam76 @silentsaebyeok @kitcat992 @mizjoely @villaniouslyawesome @itsjustdg @hanuko @jennberry1984

[abirdandabeast]

Pet Names

“I love you every day. And now I will miss you every day.”- Mitch Albom

Garfield shuffled through the fridge, grumbling to himself as he dug through the insane number of tupperware containers. He knew they had lunch meat in there somewhere. It seemed that the many leftover dishes had an agenda to be eaten, however, as for every tupperware dish he stacked onto the counter, another one replaced it. Garfield cursed under his breath.

Ugh. Where the hell was that turkey?

“Da-ad!”

Garfield pulled away from the chilly depths of the fridge, turning just as a mop of green tackled his legs. “Whoa, hey, buddy, what’s up?”

Wide eyes blinked owlishly at him. “Will you come play race cars with me, please?”

He chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Yeah, dude, just a sec. Let me find that turkey and make you some lunch.” This earned him a pout.

“But I wanna play now!”

Gar couldn’t help the amused smile lingering on his lips. He gently pried his son off of his legs and lifted him up, setting him on the counter. “How about I make us some yummy sandwiches and then we can play cars for as long as you want?”

Chester’s brows drew together as he thought for a moment. Garfield could practically see the gears churning in his little head. He tilted his head to the side, his lips drawing into a pout. His hair fell into his eyes a bit, and Garfield figured it was probably about time for another haircut. He’d have to call and make an appointment this week. The thought got filed away into the ever growing list of things to do, and Gar focused on the task at hand. Namely, convincing his temperamental son to eat lunch.

“Okay, Daddy,” he chirped. “As long as you promise to play race cars.”

Garfield solemnly held up his pinkie. “I pinky promise.” They shook on it, and Gar resumed his search. He took out another stack of tupperware, finally finding the stupid turkey at the bottom of the fridge. The sandwiches took only a few minutes to make; turkey, mustard, and a slice of American cheese for Chester, and peanut butter and jelly for himself. They sat at the table and ate, before Chester dragged him to his bedroom to play with his race cars.

At five years old, Chester was the light of Gar’s life. His favorite color was royal blue, he had a stuffed giraffe that he took with him almost everywhere named Hector, and he loved hot chocolate with the little marshmallows.

Garfield pushed the little toy car along the neon colored racetrack, watching Chester force two of them run into each other, complete with sound effects. He smiled at the sight. It felt good seeing his son living a relatively normal life. It felt so damn good.

~

“You sure it’s okay for Mar’i to spend the night?”

Garfield scoffed, waving his hands in the air. “Yes, I am, Dick. Chester is stoked to have his best bud over. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

Richard wavered in the doorway, his nervous gaze settling over the two children as they played amid a pile of stuffed animals. “If it gets to be too much, just call and I’ll pick her up.”

Gar rolled his eyes. “Dude, it’ll be fine. When’s the last time you and Kori had a date night?” He had him with this one. Richard paused, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he thought. Garfield grinned, feeling rather victorious. “Just go, have a fun night!” He practically shoved Richard off of his porch, much to his friend’s exasperation.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he said, holding his hands up. “Give me a call if you need anything, okay?”

“Will do,” Garfield chirped. He waved with a burst of enthusiasm as Richard climbed into his car and backed out of the driveway. Only when the cadillac was long gone did Gar lower his hand. It had been quite some time since Mar’i had been over. She and Chester were two peas in a pod; though Garfield supposed it was much easier to befriend someone who also lived somewhat of a double life. Between work and crime fighting, Richard and Kori hadn’t been able to spare any time to come around, much less have some time to themselves. A pang of nostalgia struck Garfield’s chest. Once upon a time, they’d spent nearly every day together.

How the years had changed them.

With a heavy sigh, Garfield threw one last look out into the night, before slipping back into the house.

Shrieks over laughter filled his ears, bringing a smile back to his lips. Garfield crept through the foyer, scuffing his socks on the hardwood. He peeked into the living room, surveying the scene quietly.

Mar’i and Chester were playing with a massive pile of stuffed animals - courtesy of Gar, of course. They had a whole little world figured out with these toys. Garfield could never really keep track of it, but he figured so long as the kids were having fun, it wasn’t important. He did find it amusing to watch, though.

“Oh, no!” Mar’i shrieked, waving her flamingo about. “We have to get the serum!” She made some flapping noises and leaped into the air, her black curls bouncing as she went airborne. Garfield watched, wide-eyed, as the half Tamaranean flew around his living room, squawking for her stuffed flamingo. Chester held up his hawk, screeching.

“I’m coming, Lily!” He bounced, levitating off the ground. Terror stabbed Gar in the chest, and he stumbled into the room.

“Okay, kids!” he hollered. “Let’s keep the flying to a minimum, please!”

Both kids whipped their heads to him, dropping to the floor in an instant. Chester crossed his arms over his chest, his lips drawn in a pout. “Aw, Dad, we were just playing!”

Mar’i elbowed Chester and ducked her head shamefully, her iridescent eyes glittering with embarrassment. “Sorry, Uncle Gar. We’ll stay on the ground.”

Garfield slumped his shoulders, relief washing over him. Superpowered kids were a never ending adventure. He tried adamantly to squish images of Mar’i and Chester flying through the ceiling or plowing into a lamp out of his mind and forced a smile. “How about we watch a movie?” he said. The kids perked up.

“Oh, oh, oh, can we watch The Jungle Book?” Chester asked. He bounced in place, grinning at Mar’i. “Then we can watch Moana, and Toy Story!”

Mar’i nodded eagerly, matching Chester’s enthusiasm. “Yeah! Can we, Uncle Gar?”

Garfield chuckled. “Yeah, sure. You guys want some popcorn?”

There was a chorus of “yes please!” and the kids darted about happily shrieking as Gar meandered into the kitchen. He stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave, letting it pop as he set up the movie. Chester and Mar’i bounded to the couch, giggling as they snuggled under the covers. They cheered when Garfield brought the massive bowl of popcorn, chattering eagerly between bites. Gar settled back against the couch, a fond smile lingering on his lips. His gaze drifted to the little end table, settling on a silver picture frame. A younger version of himself smiled back, his arm wrapped around a pair of grey shoulders. Garfield bit his lip and forced his attention back on the television, trying not to linger on the amethyst eyes gazing back at him.

~

Raven flopped onto the couch beside him. “He’s finally asleep,” she rasped. Garfield shifted closer, dropping his head onto her shoulder.

“Ugh, thank god.”

She chuckled. “I blame you.”

He jerked upright, his brows furrowing. “Me? What did I do?”

Raven merely laughed, her violet bangs falling in her eyes. “You’re the one that gave him the weird animal genetics,” she teased. “Now we have a nocturnal baby.”

Garfield snorted. “Gee, thanks.” He cuddled up to his wife, a contented sigh breezing past his lips. It was moments like this that made everything worth it. This was a slice of perfection, and Gar couldn’t help but feel amazed that this was his life. There was no way things could get better than this.

~

The ever familiar, sweet smell of lilacs tickled his nose. Garfield twitched, blinking blearily. “Rae?” he murmured. He reached for her, only to receive a handful of pillow. Reality smashed into him like a glass jar falling onto a concrete sidewalk. He sat up, blinking against the blue light that bathed the living room.

Soft music accompanied the scroll of credits rolling up the screen. The movie. Right. Garfield turned to the kids sprawled across the couch. Chester snored softly, only his head poking out of his tiger-print blanket. His green locks stuck up in every direction, bringing a smile to Gar’s face.

“Uncle Gar?”

Mar’i’s voice crackled sleepily, but her iridescent eyes gleamed in the low light. Garfield ran a hand over his face. “Hm?”

“Who’s Rae?”

Garfield froze. His gaze darted to the picture frame, resting on Raven’s immortal smile. His heart squeezed, the feel of her laying against him sharp and vivid as it was in his dream. Gar licked his lips, trying to find his voice. “You...you remember Chester’s mom, right?” he asked quietly. Mar’i’s eyes went wide, and she nodded.

“Yeah,” Gar said. “That was...a nickname I called her.” The silence that followed was heavy. He dropped his gaze to his hands, staring in wonder at the glistening red. Garfield’s breath caught in his throat. The couch and living room fell away, and he found himself back in that rain battered alleyway.

Memories were funny. Some things were hazy and distant, as though he was viewing them through a wall of water. Like eating pancakes with his birth parents; how much of the memory was real, Gar couldn’t say. Details were waterlogged, saturated with time.

But this memory? This one was as vivid as though it had happened yesterday.

Rain dripped from his hair and into his eyes. They were on a mission; by request of Nightwing, they’d left Chester in the care of Alfred and joined him on the streets of Gotham. There was an uprising gang that he was concerned with, and since Batman was out of town, he wanted to keep the situation under control.

So they hit the ground running.

They fell into the patrol with ease, as though they’d never stopped crime fighting. Running through the streets with Raven at his side made him feel like a kid again. There wasn’t really supposed to be any criminal contact. They were just supposed check on things and report back to HQ.

He didn’t see the thugs until it was too late.

He should have seen the damn thugs.

There was a scuff and a splash, and when Gar turned around, he could see the gleam of a pistol in the moonlight. Raven’s hands were on him in an instant, shoving him aside right as the gunshot blasted through the alleyway.

“Raven!”

Little arms wrapped around him, pulling him back into the sanctity of the living room. Garfield blinked. His vision was blurry and his cheeks were wet, and he realized his goddaughter was squeezing him tight, forgetting about her developing super strength. It didn’t matter, though; Garfield wound his arms around her and hugged her back.

Chester stirred. He blinked, his amethyst eyes bleary. “Daddy?”

“Hey, kiddo,” he said. “I think it’s about bedtime, dontcha think?”

Mar’i shifted in his arms, peering up at him. Her brows were knit with worry, and she seemed to ponder him a moment before nodding slowly. “Can we sleep out here?” she asked. “We were gonna build a fort.” Chester perked up at this, sitting up with a grin.

“Yeah, a pillow fort!”

Garfield ruffled their hair and chuckled. “Sure. Just make sure you sleep, okay?”

They nodded, before eagerly clamoring off the couch and gathering their fort building supplies. Chester, despite teetering sleepily, chattered excitedly about how their fort should look. He always knew how to express what he wanted whenever he wanted it, a trait Raven had once claimed he’d inherited from Gar.

His chest felt tight. He did what he could to give Chester a normal life. He tried to fill the gaping hole Raven’s absence left in their lives, but sometimes it got hard. Some days, Chester reminded him of her so much and it hurt. He was the light of Gar’s life, and he’d do anything for his son, but that didn’t stop the sharp pain that stabbed his chest whenever Chester’s glittering eyes looked just like hers in the evening night.

He dropped his head in his hands and sighed. A small hand grasped his arm, and Garfield looked up to see Chester peering curiously at him. “Daddy?” he said. Garfield forced a smile.

“Yeah?”

Chester’s expression was grave. “I love you,” he said, his voice low and serious. Warmth flooded through Gar, and he pulled his son close.

“I love you too, kiddo.”

Garfield’s gaze flickered to the photograph. Raven smiled back at him, the sweet smell of her lilac perfume tickling his nose once more.

E N D 

WOW so this was angsty. WHOOPS. Sorry... XD 

-Kat

[tincanspaceship]

Per Aspera Ad Astra, ch.2.

hey I titled it! (Ch. 1) 

Thanks to @onaperduamedee, @elissastillstands, and @speedygal for their input (thank q my pals)

this includes a bonus scene i wrote in 20 minutes at 3am. 

Michael Burnham/Philippa Georgiou

word count:3322

rating:T

“That was an adventure,” Philippa groaned, swiping grey particles off her left hand. She yanked her hair out of its hasty bun, tossing the elastic into a pile of detritus.

“I’d say it was less of an adventure and more of a...poorly timed disaster,” Michael stated. Philippa snorted, picking shards of glass out of Michael’s wiry hair.

“I'd drink to that. I swear your curls are a pocket dimension, Michael.”

Michael absentmindedly wrapped a strand of Philippa's slightly charred hair around her finger.

“You know, I always wanted to touch your hair.” Philippa chucked her handful of glass and metal slivers into a rapidly-deteriorating rock pile. She ruffled her fingers through Michael's halo.

Same here.

Philippa recoiled in shock. Michael tentatively cupped Philippa’s cheek, thumb brushing across the ridges of her cheekbones.

It would seem physical contact strengthens our mental bond.

Physical contact, huh?

Michael swatted at Philippa's shoulder, a look of exaggerated fake-disgust on her face. Philippa elbowed her in the side playfully.

“Oh, you love me!” she clucked, tossing an arm around Michael's waist, her tangle of hair tickling the side of Michael's face. She grinned upwards, dirt smears across her face, a bruise enveloping the right half of her jaw, and her hands speckled with scrapes. Michael’s heart rate skipped and doubled.

“That I do, Philippa,” she said, face reddened. She glanced across the hall in a desperate attempt to hide her face from Philippa's gaze. Her eyes caught on a particular set of doors. “Let’s go on the holodeck.” Philippa raised her eyebrows.

“Are you serious? I haven't slept in forty-seven hours, thirty-two of which I have spent fighting a Vulcan splinter group, and one of which fighting a Vulcan. And, might I add, worrying about my girlfriend.”

Michael shrugged. “Ten more minutes awake won't hurt.”

And I want to see just how well this mental connection works.

Philippa smiled in resignation. “I suppose you're right. Do you have somewhere in mind?” Michael's smile almost split her face in two.

“I do.” She keyed in a code into the blue panel beside the almond doors, scratching her left heel with the tip of her other boot. Philippa saw the brilliant, somewhat devilish smile that pulled at the corner of Michael's lips. Philippa snuck up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. She pressed her nose against Michael's neck and inhaled deeply, almost tasting the military Starfleet soap.

First order of business:Get Michael some better soap that doesn't smell like metal and bureaucracy.

Michael's rolling laughter reminded her of their connection. Philippa's cheeks reddened. Michael finished her work with an exaggerated stab at the screen.

Close your eyes.

Philippa obliged, eyes firmly shut. She felt the doors open and Michael wiggle out so their embrace. Philippa strained to pick up on Michael's thoughts, even as five fingertips rested between her shoulders, pushing her forwards. Her boots sank into something of similar quality to sand, if not that. She stumbled. Michael caught her.

“Open your eyes, my Philip-pa,” she murmured, popping the last syllable. Michael's breath warmed her neck as her eyes opened. Philippa's breath caught in her throat.

“Damn, Burnham,” she breathed. A beach of black sand, coating her boots, rippled with olive green in tiger stripes. Grey vines that shot upwards in perfect coils. A sea that seemed more glass than liquid, slowly overtaking the sand. And a long, flat, moss-covered rock, extending far into the water. “Where is this?”

“It's on Tli’cor III. Mostly. I may have made some adjustments. As in, nothing is trying to kill you,” she chuckled. Philippa snorted. She reached for Michael’s hand.

It's beautiful.

I did my best…

Philippa pressed a kiss against Michael's lips. Michael's hands came to the nape of her neck, playing with tangled chunks of hair. She felt Philippa deepen their kiss, her hands clasping the back of Michael’s shirt. Her grip shifted, and her hands tried to grab a bruise etched into Michael's back. Michael whimpered. The pain blasted into Philippa's mind.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Michael, I'm so sorry, she responded, the kiss broken and their foreheads together, her fingers stroking Michael's shoulders.

It's just sore. Your fingernails are sharp.

Shouldn't you have gotten someone to look at that?

Alien shame prickled at the back of Philippa's neck.

...I didn't want to add to their work. There's too many people in Sickbay already…

Michael, it takes three seconds to run a regenerator over your back.

“And it's their job,” she finished, with a sigh. Michael dusted herself off and kissed Philippa's forehead, slipping out of her arms and snatching her hand.

“Next time, I promise. For now…” she jerked her head in the direction of the rock outcropping. Philippa followed her lead, rubbing her eye with the palm of her hand.  The sand crunched under her feet.

Michael, I have a question…

Philippa tightened her grip on Michael’s fingers.

Why did you wait so long to tell me you love me?

...Why did you? Michael deflected the question.

Because–well-I'm not sure. I suppose I thought that as a Captain, it was my...job? To keep love out of my mind.

You shouldn't have thought that.

I know.

Michael settled on the cool grey surface of the rock, unzipping her boots and lining them up next to her. Her feet dropped into the water, ripples spreading across the deserted sea. Philippa’s shoes were kicked off her feet, followed by her socks, as she curled up next to Michael.

“I'm glad you talked me into this,” she murmured, toes stretching above pine-green sand. Michael smiled as she fumbled for the zipper on her jacket. Philippa pulled the collar up, and guided Michael's fingers to the metallic tab.

A quiet mental thank you flew into Philippa's mind. Michael discarded her jacket over her boots. Philippa tucked her head into Michael's shoulder, fingers brushing over the defined muscles in her arms, the soft cotton of her shirt pressing into Philippa's cheek.

I'm sorry I waited so long, Philippa.

Michael's arm came up to drape across Philippa's back, fingers splayed along her neck. Her other hand reached across her lap to grab at Philippa's.

And I don't know what made me wait. I wanted to just...give you valentines and wake up with you next to me, to make coffee with you at midnight and kiss you until I couldn't breathe. Other things that girlfriends do, I don't know. But I only realised I loved you after two straight shifts of admiring your hair.

Philippa lifted her head out of its position. She levelled her eyes with Michael's.

I love you, you idiot. Come here.

Her lips collided with Michael's, the rough texture of her gnawed-on lips against Michael's smooth skin. Whatever traces of lipstick remained on Michael's lips was now on Philippa's in blotches. Curls tickled at their foreheads. Michael tugged at Philippa's jacket and unfastened it in one swoop, pulling it off her shoulders and tossing it away, Michael's hands found their spot just above Philippa's waist, the ribbed fabric of the tank shirt against her hands, and Michael, in one swift motion, leant back and whispered.

“Hold on.”

“Wha–”

They slid off the rock and plunged into the sea.

Philippa clutched Michael tightly as they sank, head buried in her neck. She squeezed her eyes closed, holding her breath. Warm water enveloped her.

Michael, what the fuck are you doing!? she screeched.

Breathe.

Are you insane?

Trust me.

Philippa opened her mouth and inhaled. Air refilled her lungs‍‍‍‍, cooling her panic. Her eyes blinked open.

Some warning would be nice next time, Michael, she grumbled.

Come on! Michael's bouncy excitement overtook Philippa’s grumpy attitude.

I'm too tired for this.

They landed on the sea floor, toes shrouded in a dusty green cloud. Michael bounded forwards, dragging Philippa behind her. A strange pale shape sat under the water in the distance, hidden in shadow.

What’s that, Michael?

You'll find out soon.

Philippa leaped off the bed of sand and flipped forwards, landing perfectly atop Michael's shoulders, who almost tripped. Philippa stroked Michael's hair, the once-straightened strands curled.

Tell me!

Michael craned her neck backwards, grinning.

I've prepared for this, you know, she stated.

Her hands grabbed Philippa's calves, feet kicking backwards and back arching. She threw Philippa off her shoulders, converting the extra momentum into a roll. Philippa glided into a patch of dust, feet digging into the sand.

“I've taught you well!” she called. Michael dove and tackled Philippa, both floating to the ground in slow motion.

You did, Philippa.

Philippa's weight shifted, and in a split-second, she pinned Michael to the ground. She beamed and rolled off, lying in the sand next to her.

God, I’m tired, Philippa groaned.

Just a few more minutes.

Michael pulled herself up, yawning. She struggled to her feet. Her hand stretched out to Philippa, who took it gratefully, fingers locked around her wrist. Michael's heels dug into the sand.

I did a class on fighting in low-g and unusual environments back at the Academy, Philippa mused.

You capitalise academy while thinking?

You do–Shut up! she huffed. Michael could feel the spiteful glare in her soul.

I'd be happy for you to shut me up.

Oh, seriously?!

Michael's poker face cracked. Philippa sighed, dusting her hands across her thighs. She shook her head.

Towards that strange blob.

Philippa followed Michael's guide, bouncing across the sand. Her hand reached for Michael's as she blinked in an attempt to lighten her eyelids. Their hands connected, Michael squeezing her fingers in reassurance.

I have approximately fifteen minutes before I fall asleep standing up. Keep it quick, Mikey.

Michael stopped abruptly, Philippa almost slamming into her. She scooped Philippa up, who let out a tiny giggle and rested her head against Michael's collarbone, hands wrapped around her neck. The gentle bouncing of Michael's steps almost lured her into sleep. She shut her eyes, Michael's thoughts puttering in the back of her mind.

We're here, Philippa.

She opened her eyes halfway, leaning up to press a kiss to Michael's chin before sliding out of her arms. Her hair drifted into her face.

Cool...Philippa managed, starry-eyed.

Philippa stared at the ruins in front of her, white and gold bright against the mossy green of the sea floor. A castle tower sat slanted in the middle, surrounded by slabs of crumbling walls. A fragment of scalloped roofing stood balanced across the walls.

A large shard of ceramic sat at Philippa's feet. She ran her free hand over the worn edges, sticking her foot into a solid hold. Her hands clutched the top. They pushed at the same time as she kicked off, blasting herself towards the spire. She landed on the carved marble-like piece of roofing, flinging herself off the edge and gliding to the nearest handhold, ten feet down from the top of the tower. Michael gaped at her from the ground.

“Come on, Michael!” she shouted, although the water muted her words. Michael begrudgingly shouted some commands, and floated up to Philippa's height. Michael reached out for her hand, wrapping her fingers around her wrist and heaving herself onto the cylindrical platform.

Wipe that goddamn smirk off your face, Georgiou, Michael grumbled.  

Philippa's grin broadened, despite the dark circles under her eyes.

Never!

Michael sighed and flopped onto her back. Philippa stretched her legs out, propped up on her elbows. She shuffled one hand until it touched Michael's forearm.

I have a question.

Another one? Michael pretended to complain.  

Do you think we'll get married?

A few moments of silence spread between them.

Would it be presumptuous to say yes?

I don't think so.

I always thought the idea of supposedly traditional marriage was frivolous.

I had to attend many as a child and found that they were incredibly stuffy. And boring. Philippa stifled a laugh.

But I feel my mother would be rather...unhappy if I got married without her there.

Oh, my family would be very much assholes about it. Although…

Michael felt Philippa's brain churning. A mischievous smile came to her lips.

We could play a pretty hilarious prank.

Hmm?

My family still thinks I'm straight, with the exception of my mother. And they'd still associate Michael with a man…

Holy shit, Philippa. You are evil.

So if we get married, we'll do an actual marriage, just us doing something fun, and one where you get to see the very last homophobic family in the Sol system realize their relative is ‘a gay’.

Your family is garbage.

Serves them right. My mother will be falling over laughing the entire time.

Did you ever plan your wedding as a child? I was informed that was something normal children do.

Philippa chuckled.

I did, and I always wanted to do something non-traditional. Considering my family pitched a fit when my cousin wore a blue dress instead of a white one to her wedding, I could only dream.

How does anyone like that still exist?  

I don't know. But my mental wife's appearance changed every time I thought about it. Except...oh, I can't believe I almost forgot about this! She wore lace gloves, always. Black ones. I found a pattern on the replicator for them, some vintage outfit. I printed them out, shoved them under my bed. I still have them.

Wow. I...never thought about marrying someone as a child. I had one relationship as a teenager, and it consisted mostly of making out behind the VSA building.  

Philippa snorted in disbelief. Michael shrugged.

I mean, she was good at it. Her parents were not happy when they realized she'd been dating me. Sarek was...irritated that I hadn't told him. Amanda was perfectly fine with it. Sybok punched me in the shoulder and said ‘That's my sister. Get the girls!’  

She smiled fondly at the memory.

Michael, I hate to interrupt your reminiscing, but I am three minutes away from collapsing.

Oh, I'm sorry! Her cheeks reddened.

“Float!” she ordered, and she and Philippa began to rise up to the surface of the water. The reflecting patterns sketched across Philippa's skin enhanced her exhaustion, the purple under her eyes more vibrant. Michael brushed her knuckles against Philippa's cheek.

Do you want me to carry you back to your quarters?

Normally I'd refuse, but if you don't mind…

They broke the film of water, heads bobbing above the surface. Michael towed Philippa the few extra meters to shore, who showed her gratitude by weakly splashing Michael's face.

Stop it.

No.

Please?

Michael pouted like a child, bottom lip extended and eyes wide.

You're lucky you’re so cute.

Michael picked Philippa up, carrying her over to their jackets and shoes. She slipped on her boots, handing Philippa hers and draping both jackets over her torso, in a substitute for a blanket.

Will you care if I fall asleep on our walk to my quarters?

Not at all, though I might have to wake you up when I put you to bed.

I'm not a five year old. Shut up.

The water evaporated off them as they exited the holodeck, Philippa twisting a strand of Michael's hair lazily around her fingers.

“We should punch a hole through our shared wall,” Philippa muttered, incoherent. Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Should we, now?”

“Uh-huh. And you should get rid of your bridge chair. You can sit on my lap.” Philippa's toes stretched and wiggled. Michael's eyebrow almost reached her hairline.

“I think Starfleet wouldn't like that.”

“Who needs Starfleet? I have you.” Saru rounded the corner, staring at Philippa's form huddled tightly into Michael's.  

“I'm gonna take a nap, Mikey.”

“That's fine.”

Saru inhaled deeply and brushed past the pair, locking eyes with Michael, who shrugged. He blinked and opened his mouth, raising a finger, then thought better and continued on his way.

“Who was that? Didn't even say hello. How rude.” Michael punched in the code to Philippa's door,

“That was Saru,” Michael began, stepping into the familiar room of Philippa's quarters, “And he didn't say hello because I’m carrying you through the hallway. Which isn't a thing captains and first officers do often.” Philippa scoffed as Michael pulled back the sheets of her bed and tucked her inside.

“Why not?” Michael crawled into the mess of blankets, shutting off the light at the same time.

“You are a five year old. And because most of the time that's not something they have to do.” Philippa shuffled closer to Michael, who wrapped her arms around her waist and let Philippa snuggle into her. Philippa hummed with content.

“‘Night, Burnham.”

“Sweet dreams.”

—

Waking up in Michael's tight hug gave Philippa a positive outlook before the day had started. She grinned, refreshed, and pressed a kiss to Michael's lips to wake her up. She slipped out of her husk of blankets and replicated new uniforms for them as Michael woke up. Philippa's practiced speed of switching her uniforms came from years of experience. She finished pinning her badge when a bleary Michael stumbled into the room.

“Good morning, my lovely.” Michael groaned in response. Philippa chuckled and threw her new uniform in her general direction.

“Good morning to you, too,” she grumbled, traipsing back into Philippa's bedroom.

Philippa programmed the replicator for breakfast, picking her mug of coffee and croissant out of the tray and setting Michael's out for her. She leant back in her chair. In the back of her mind she could swear a few words from Michael's panicked mental rambling had worked their way into her head.

“What time is it?” Michael mumbled, plunking into a chair across from Philippa, taking a huge bite out of her croissant. Her hair was still unkempt, her uniform already creased.

“0755, Michael. You've got five minutes.” The remainder of Michael’s pastry was stuffed unceremoniously into her mouth as she asked the replicator for a hairbrush. She began to pull at her hair in a desperate attempt to keep it orderly. Philippa drank the last of her coffee and rested her hand on Michael's wrist, gently tugging the brush out of her grasp.

“Philippa–”

“It's fine, Michael. You don't need to keep it straightened all the time.” She ran a hand through Michael's curls.

And trust me, do not wear lipstick.

“Why not?” Michael questioned, between gulps of coffee.

“Just trust me.”

Michael shrugged and swept all the crumbs off her shirt. “We should go.” Philippa linked their arms.

“Onward!” she cried, dragging Michael along with her into the turbolift. The doors shut.

“Bridge,” Michael stated. She barely managed to get the words out before Philippa pulled her in for a bruising kiss, her hands around Michael's waist and thumbs pressing her against the wall. Michael stuck her fingers into Philippa's hair, toying with the messy strands. Philippa's lips pressed harder against Michael’s. Her hand rose to cup Michael's chin, the other still firmly pinning Michael to the wall.

Am I doing okay, Philippa?

Awkward but perfect, Burnham.

The ding of the lift and Saru’s tiny cough was enough to pull them out of their haze. Michael reddened. Philippa pulled herself off of Michael, seemingly still composed. She strode onto the bridge, placing her hands on the empty display in front of her. Michael retreated farther into the elevator.

Philippa smiled, all eyes on her.

“Well,” she started, a glint in her eye, “that's one way to find out your captain and first officer are dating.” A few chuckles emanated from the crowd. Michael shuffled of the lift, still mortified. She swallowed her embarrassment and stepped up next to Philippa, wrapping her arm around her waist. She smiled, just a tiny bit, and dipped Philippa into a dramatic, old-movie kiss, their thoughts blasting through each other's minds. Cheers rose from the bridge crew, a few whoop!’s from Ensign Connor’s director. Saru clapped, a fatherly expression on his face.

Awkward but perfect, Philippa?

Awkward but perfect.

[cosmic-elementalist]

0. The Fool

The Spirit of Ether

Creative Light

The root of Moral Responsability is Restriction, which is the Word of Sin. To regain Innocence is to regain Eden.

We must cast out Fear by Love; seeing that every Act is an orgasm. Love is the law; thus every act must be Righteousness and Truth. By certain Meditations this may be understood and established; and this ought to be done so thoroughly that we become unconscious of our Sanctification, for only then is innocence made perfect. This state is a necessary condition to the contemplation of the question "What is my True Will" for until we become innocent, we are certain to try to judge our Will from the outside, whereas True Will should spring, a fountain of Light, from within, and flow unchecked, seething with Love into the Ocean of Life.

Archetypes:

The condition which precedes creativity in all it's forms;

Creation Myths;

Silence;

Innocence as freedom from morality

Contradiction as Unity

Symbols:

0 = +1 -1: male and female; mother and father. Fertilized ovum is sexless. Identification of the Opposites.

Below the Abyss, contradiction is division; but above the Abyss, contradiction is Unity.

The "Green Man" of the Spring festival. "April Fool". The Holy Ghost: personification of the mysterious influence that produces the phenomena of spring.

The fool stirs within all of us the return of spring.

The Dove: bird of Venus (Isis, Mary) and symbol of the Holy Ghost (Phallus in most sublimated form)

When ideas so sublime become vulgarized they fail to exhibit the symbol with lucidity

Formula of the Tetragrammaton: (name of God) represents God producing Something from Nothing. God Himself is referred to as "Ain", which is Hebrew for "Not", or "Nothing".

The Yod represents the emanation of a general, all-encompassing spiritual Substance out of Divine Nothingness.

Second, the first Heh represents the definition of particular qualities within this general Substance. 

Vav represents the separation and recombination of these qualities to form basic compounds and ideal Forms according to which material existence is ultimately manifested.

Manifestation itself is represented by the final Heh. 

Crowley sees this pattern in traditions of succession of the King through his daughter and King by right of conquest. Tales which reflect this pattern: Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, Enchanted Princess, and Aladdin. (Also biblical representation of the Holy Ghost, Mary the Virgin, The Son, and Mary Magdalena)

He is the All-Wandering Spirit, the Pure and Perfect Knight-Errant, who answers all Enigmas, and opens the closed Portal of the King's Daughter.

Ogdoad: Ancient Egyptian creation myth; system of eight dieties (four represented completeness). Each pair of male and female represents a greater whole unto itself:

Nun and Naunet; primeval waters (Nun, the sometimes hermaphroditic god of the waters, and Naunet the seldomly personified goddess of the sky above it)

Heh and Hauhet; eternity, infinity, unendingness, time (sometimes forces of chaos, possibly representing the currents of the primeval waters)

Kuk and Kuaket (sometimes Gereh and Gerehet); darkness

Amun and Amunet (later replaced by Nia and Niat); air, and that which is unseen, nothingness and invisibility, gods of the void

The gods were depicted with frog's heads, and the goddess' with serpent's.

These elements interacted to create the Isle of Flame

World was born from a cosmic egg, sometimes created by the Ogdoad, sometimes layed by one of the creation/sun gods in guise of a sacred bird. The egg was invisible as there was no light, and from this egg one of various sun gods is born. In some legends it is a lotus flower (represents Yoni), not an egg.

Sebek, the crocodile: creator god who rose from the "Dark Waters", or primeval waters of Nun. Layed eggs on the bank of the Nile (which he made from his sweat) to create the worlds.

Unprovided with the means of perpetuating his species, thus a symbol of the maximum of creative energy.

Considered an aspect of Horus (who turned into a crocodile to retrieve Osiris's body parts from the Nile), and yet it was told Sebek was present with Isis his birth.

Also worshipped as a manifestation of Amun-Re (headdress of Amun or solar disk of Ra). Carried Was septre (power) and Ankh (breath of life)

Hoor-Pa-Kraat: ( har-par-khered ) Horus the Child. Harpocrates is the God of Silence. In his manifestation, he is not One, but Two; he is only One because he is 0. Eheieh, his divine name, which signifies 'I Shall Be' is a way of saying he is not; One leads to nowhere, where it came from. There is as yet no more than the impulse, which is unformulated; only through interpretation does it become the Word (Atu I.) He is a babe, innocent and not yet arrived at puberty. It is dawn - the hint of light about to come, but not by any means that light.

The babe is in an egg of blue (celestial mother). This babe has, in a way, not yet been born. The egg sits upon a lotus (Yoni), which grows upon the Nile (father), which fertilizes Egypt (mother). But the Nile is also home to the crocodile, who threatens Harpocrates. (Dualist symbol of the crocodile).

Etimology: le mat from Italian Matto (madman or fool) or Mat for Maut, Ancient Egyptian vulture goddess.

Fool derived from 'follis' = wind bag.

Silly = empty from German 'selig' = holy.

Maut: Egyptians believed vultures to be nurturing; the word for mother and vulture are both Mwt. It was believed that there were no male griffon vultures, except sometimes Maut.

"Mut, Who Givith Birth, But Was Herself Not Born of Any"

Mut replaced Amun's earlier wife, Amunet (the invisible goddess) during the middle kingdom.

"Mother of the Sun in Whom He Rises"

When Amun merged with Ra, she became "Eye of Ra", daughter of Ra (Mother, Daughter, sometimes Father)

Spiral neck, spiral universe.

Represents the same ideas as Nuith.

Reproduces by intervention of wind.

The "Great Fool" of the Celts (Dalua): Salvation, whatever salvation means, is not to be obtained on any reasonable terms. Reason is damnation; only divine madness offers an issue.

A mad stranger as an angel in disguise.

A saviour is needed, and he must not be an ordinary man.

Preferably disguised in non human form.

"The Rich Fisherman" Percivale: Crowley's interpretation of Parsifal is intended to illustrate the sacred nature of sex. He makes a reference to the Gnosis of the ninth degree of the O.T.O., which he also makes painfully clear is a secret to those not initiated.

To redeem the whole situation, to destroy death, he has only to plunge the Lance into the Holy Grail; he redeems not only Kundry, but himself.

In Liber DCCXI Crowley writes: It may be undertaken for the direct object of continuing the race. It may be undertaken in obedience to real passion; for passion is inspired by a force of divine strength and beauty without the will of the individual, often even against it. It is the "idle" use, or rather abuse, of these forces which constitutes their profanation.

Zeus Arrhenothelus: Images of this god recure in alchemy. It is hardly possible to describe this lucidly; the idea pertains to a faculty of mind which is "above the abyss"; all two-headed eagles with symbols clustered over them indicate this idea. The original sense seems to be that the original God is both male and female.

Dionysus Zagreus. Bacchus Diphues: In this case it is convenient to treat them as one. Zagreus is the horned god, torn to pieces by the Titans. His father Zeus, and mother Demeter, made him fruit of the union of heaven and earth, and identifies him with Vau of the Tetragrammaton. Bacchus Diphues, characteristic of ecstatic worship, wine, surrounded by companions insane with enthusiasm. Born of the union between Semele and Zeus in the form of a lightning strike which destroyed the mortal woman. The boy was saved, and kept in Zeus' thigh (phallus) until puberty, and Hera drove the boy mad for her husband's infidelity.

He is depicted with a drunken face and languid penis which connects him to the myth of the crocodile.

He is depicted with the tiger leaping at him from behind, and the crocodile with it's mouth open, waiting in front. He is said to have ridden an ass, which connects him with Priapus, who is said to have been his son by Aphrodite.

Over time, worship of Bacchus (partially for being orgiastic) melded with that of the Fool. He came to be represented with a fool's cap, phallic in nature, and clad in motley (as were Jesus, and Joseph before him). This symbolism is not only Mercurial, but Zodiacal.

Hebrew Letter: Aleph (א), Ox, ploughshare. Attributed to the constellation Orion.

It is curious that at the fabled birth of Jesus, the Virgin Mother is represented between an Ox and an ass.

Baphomet: Bull god, or rather Bull-Slaying god, Mithras.

Crowley described Baphomet as a divine androgyne, representative of mystical perfection through a union of opposites.

The early christians were also accused of worshipping an ass or ass-headed god, and this again is connected with the wild ass of the wilderness, the god Set, identified with Saturn and Satan (Atu XV.) He is the South, as Nuit is the North.

The Fool is also an aspect of Pan, but this idea is developed by Atu XV, whose letter is the semi-vowel A'ain, cognate with Aleph.

N: the fish is a symbol of fatherhood, motherhood, of the perpetuation of life generally. The letter N (Nun, N, in Hebrew means fish) is one of the original hieroglyphs standing for this idea, apparently because of the mental reactions excited by the continual repetition of this letter (Atu XIII).

Divinatory Interpretations:

In spiritual matters; idea, thought, spirituality, that which endeavours to transcend earth.

In material matters, it may, if badly dignified, mean folly, eccentricity, or even mania.

The essential of this card is that it represents an original, subtle, sudden impulse or impact, coming from a completely strange quarter.

All such impulses are right, if rightly received; and the good or ill interpretation of the card depends entirely on the right attitude of the Querent

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #123: Vengeance in Vietnam! -or- An Origin for Mantis!

May, 1974

Now, I’m not one to spoil an issue of a comic book several times a week but I feel compelled to say that this cover doesn’t 100% represent the contents of the book.

Although it very much feels like a comic book cover. Shocking behavior and dramatic statements and constipated faces that just compel you to turn the pages in search of answers. Silver age books thrived on this stuff. I’m only surprised that Thor isn’t forcing Black Panther and Scarlet Witch to fight to the death for some insane reason that barely makes sense with how its actually portrayed in the story. Or maybe pouring water out in front of a dying Iron Man.

So if you’re one of my three readers you may remember

LAST TIME: Zodiac, led by Cornelius Van Lunt as Taurus, hatched a mad scheme to kill all Geminis in Manhattan except for Zodiac’s Geminis. The Avengers thwartened them but Mantis was injured and Zodiac escaped. Internal power squabbles split Zodiac in half but then Taurus launches the rebelling houses and the Avengers into space with a space warehouse.

Libra of Zodiac turned on Taurus to steal his spaceship and rescue the Avengers and the rebelling houses because he presumed that his daughter was among them.

This time (again): “Mantis, I am your father!”

Dun dun dun (again)!

Tragically, Mantis does not say ‘That’s not true, that’s impossible!’ but she expresses pretty much the same sentiment.

She also claims she has no father to which the ever pedantic Vision replies “every person... who was born has a father.”

Libra asks why he would lie. He betrayed Zodiac and sat back while the Avengers kicked their asses. He has no motive to lie. Unless this is a long con thing. Who knows with comics.

Anyway, Iron Man doesn’t really want to have this soap opera conversation in front of the prisoners so he suggests that they turn Zodiac over to the authorities and then return to Avengers Mansion to talk this out. Also, that way Swordsman can be part of this important conversation.

Mantis again accuses Libra of lying. About all manner of things. Why, I bet he’s not even really blind- OH GOD NO EYES

Although really she was skeptical that an occidental man could move so easily despite being blind. Someone should introduce her to Daredevil.

Anyway, Libra begins his thrilling tale of love, loss, and cool martial arts. A tale fit for a movie maybe. Although the MCU Mantis is so different that its just not to be.

Anyway, back before he wore short shorts Gustav Brandt was a German mercenary working for the French in Vietnam. During downtime in Saigon, he met Lua. They had a whirlwind courtship and two months later they were married.

Except Lua’s brother disapproved.

And since her brother was Monsieur Khruul, the king of the Saigon underworld, his disapproval was somewhat worse than some icy family dinners.

You remember Monsieur Khruul from Swordsman’s story of how he met Mantis, right?

Anyway, Gustav and Lua had to flee his wrath. For ten months they moved from hamlet to hamlet to stay ahead of Khruul.

But then baby happened. And with baby came the desire to give the baby a stable upbringing and roots. And with staying in one place came Monsieur Khruul finding them. And with that came paid assassins and flamethrowers.

Gustav and mini-Mantis escaped but Lua was killed. And Gustav had lost his eyes to flamethrowers. Which is not great unless you like staggering blindly through the jungle, hoping a tiger doesn’t eat you.

Somehow after days of running, Gustav stumbled onto a temple in the middle of the jungle.

A temple and the Priests of Pama.

They took mini-Mantis away from him, to train her in their ways. They also trained Gustav to compensate for his blindness until he could perceive the world anew. It took years.

So he would sneak off to ‘see’ his daughter. The priests trained her in martial arts, covering every conceivable situation, every type of defense and offense and with an emphasis on her perfection.

Because they seemed to worship her for some reason. This random baby brought by a random ex-soldier blindly running through the jungle.

And they would never let Gustav talk with her. So in time... he just kind of forgot the love he had for her. And without that tying him there, he left the temple and used their teachings for selfish gains and became a crime lord. Because I guess they had trained his body but not his mind. Usually the two go hand in hand but I guess the Priests of Pama decided not to bother.

Anyway, Mantis completely loses her shit.

She lunges at Libra and the Avengers try and stop her. So then there’s two pages of her kicking their asses. She even drops Thor with a not-quite-deathgrip. Goes to show that skill can beat out strength sometimes.

With the Avengers tossed aside, nothing is between her and Libra. But according to his story, he trained in the same temple as she did. And maybe he’s not as skilled (since he was studying daredevilism while she was studying everything) but he has one more trick up his sleeve.

And its related to his Zodiac theme, even!

As Libra, he is the master of leverage. If he sticks his arm up in the air, his other arm presses down irresistibly. So he just pins her down by putting a hand on her stomach just as effectively as if they put Mjolnir on her.

Anyway, here’s those sweet beatdowns.

Gratuitous? Maybe. But fun. It was a good rampage.

Mantis tries to call Swordsman to her aid but the guy has vanished at some point. And then they hear a Quinjet launching from the roof.

Yeeeeeeeaaaah.

Swordsman just stole their Quinjet and took off to Vietnam to get vengeance on Monsieur Khruul for killing Mantis’ mother. He’s probaby feeling insecure because of his injury putting him out of action and because he’s afraid Mantis likes Vision more than him.

Love makes fools of us all but specifically Swordsman.

Of course the Avengers are going to follow him. There is a small logistical concern though.

Their only other Quinjet was left in New Jersey from when they fell into the space warehouse trap. And Black Panther’s ship only fits one.

Scarlet Witch (herself in a bad mood since those suicide bombers tried to blow up Vision) snarks about the Mighty Avengers being stuck at the starting gate. Iron Man then blows up at her and flies off to go retrieve the second Quinjet.

Things are a bit heated with the Avengers currently. Wanda is on her anti-human kick. Vision is freezing up in battle. Captain America was framed for murder. And now Swordsman ran off and is probably going to get himself killed. And now they have to go to Vietnam which is convenient because Iron Man was headed there anyway to search for Eddie March’s brother! At some point, being an Avenger became like living in a madhouse.

To which I can only say: Geez, Tony, you’re going to look back on these days as simpler times.

Later, Swordsman busts into Monsieur Khruul’s villa.

It does not go well.

Like. At all.

Swordsman is not at 100% and Khruul has giant sword-wielding guards that are doped up to not feel pain. Swordsman gets to be a cool guy who defeats two despite his weakened condition but there are more where that came from and he gets knocked out.

And you know. Torture is an ugly word but Monsieur Khruul is totally going to torture Swordsman now because he mentioned his niece (which no he didn’t, I flipped back and checked) and the guy wants to know more about that.

Only an hour later, the Avengers arrive in Saigon and find Swordsman tied up post-torture at Khruul’s villa.

Swordsman confesses that he broke under torture and revealed that the Priests of Pama raised Mantis. And Khruul is just that sort of petty man that will kill the priests for daring to offer baby Mantis sanctuary.

Scarlet Witch takes him to the hospital while the rest of the Avengers follow Libra to the temple. And along the way Mantis insists that she’s never been in this area before and clearly Libra is lying and Swordsman got hurt because he believed his lies.

And yeah. They get to the temple and the priests are all dead by Khruul and his giant sword guards.

The Avengers leap to avenge the priests, all thinking their own thoughts about how this relates to them and their problems.

Iron Man thinks about how it was in Vietnam that he became Iron Man.

Black Panther thinks of men who wished no one ill will but were brutally killed - men like the Priests of Pama and men like his father, T’Chaka.

And Vision worries that he’s malfunctioning and will freeze up in battle again. But all seems good so he acts with confidence and sticks his hands in two of the sword people and KOs them.

But while the Avengers were occupied, Monsieur Khruul escaped, running deeper into the temple.

And they hear him screaming in terror below as they race after him.

BECAUSE OH MY GOD HE WAS KILLED BY A DRAGON THERE’S A DRAGON LIVING IN THIS TEMPLE AND ITS CALLED A STAR-STALKER OH GOSH THATS RAD.

Oh and it killed Khruul so maybe its a good dragon? But probably not.

Now a dragon lurking just out of sight while the Avengers find the dying Khruul is well deserving of a two-page spread.

Next time we get more details of Mantis’ origin and a change for Vision. Cool, cool.

[leadchan]

under the cut, you’ll find #213 SONG TITLES that can be used for para titles or anything else your heart desires. i know there are so many of these floating around on tumblr already, but i wanted to make a more updated one & make my own contribution with my music taste. so i hope you find this helpful & if you do, please give this post a like or reblog !

** THESE ARE IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER.

Adventure Of A Lifetime All I Ask All Hands On Deck All We Got Almost Is Never Enough Amazing Eyes Apocalypse Dreams The Art Of Peer Pressure Back To Life Back To Me Bad Religion  The Ballad Of Me And My Brain Bed Peace Bedroom Walls Belong To The World Best Mistake Be The One Big Eyes Break Free Breathe Into Me Broken Whiskey Glass Burning Desire Burst Of Insanity But It’s Better If You Do Came A Long Way Can’t Feel My Face Castle On The Hill Caught In The Middle Chain Smoker Change Of Heart Chasing Pavements Cigerette Duet Cigerettes & Lonliess Cold Sweat Cool Blue Dark Times Die For You Dirty Laundry Don’t Dream It’s Over Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time Don’t You Remember Dreaming With A Broken Heart Drinking From The Bottle Edge Of Destruction Electric Love Elevator Songs Empty Gold Eternal Sunshine Everything I Am Is Yours Everything I Wanted Face Like Thunder Fake Love Fall Away Fall Over False Alarm Fear Like You Feels Like We Only Go Backwards Feel So Close Fight The Feeling Finish Line First Take Fix You Flirt Right Back For Someone Godspeed Golden Days Golden Girl Grab The Wheel Guns For Hands Heartbreak Warfare Hearts Don’t Break Round Here Hiding My Heart High For This Hold Me Down Hometown Glory Hotter Than Hell House Of Memories How Are You True How Far I’ll Go How Would You Feel If I Believe You If I Could I Would Feel Nothing I’ll Be Waiting Illusion Of Bliss Into You I See Fire Is There Somebody Who Can Watch You  Is There Somewhere Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart Keep Me King Of The Hill Kissing Strangers Kiss It Better Laid Out The Leap Learning For Your Love Leave Me Lonely The Less I Know The Better Lesson In Patience

Let It Happen Let Me Love You Let’s Get Lost Lock You Up Love & Feeling Love In The Dark Love Me Harder Love On The Brain Love Slow Lyin King Makes Me Wonder Make You Love Me Melt My Heart To Stone Memories Faded Middle Of My Mind Mind Games Mind Mischief Missed Calls More Than We Know Mortal Man My Favorite Part Never Ending Nevermind Sleep Never Understand New Perspective Nightcrawler Nine In The Afternoon No Advice No Favors No Option Objects In The Mirror Of All Things Once Upon A Dream One Last Time One Of Them Open Wide Opportunity Cost  Over My Dead Body Paper Doll Pink Matter Plastic Dreams Pools To Bathe In Pretty When You Cry Ready To Go Reality In Motion Rear View River Of Tears Room For 2 The Run And Go Safe House Saved Scared To Be Lonely  Send My Love    Shades Of Cool Shot Down Small Bump Small Hands Smoke Break Solitude Is Bliss Solo Sunrise Somebody Else Some Kind Of Drug Something Real Spotless Mind Still Got Time Strange Love Stressed Out  Sun Shy Sweet Nothing Swim Against The Tide Take It Or Leave It Talk Is Cheap Talk Me Down Tear In My Heart  Tell Your Friends Terms And Conditions That Would Be Enough There Will Be Tears These Walls This Is What It Feels Like This Must Be My Dream Thoughts From A Balcony Through The Late Night The Trouble With Us Tiger Striped Sky To Be Alone With You Tornado Town Turning Tables Under Control Under The Table Waiting Game Warm Water Waste Away Water Under The Bridge Weaker Girl Weak When You’re Around What About Us What You Need When Ends Meet When I’m With You I Have Fun Where Do We Begin Now Where You Belong Wicked Games Win Some Lose Some Work On It You Vs Them The Zone 80′s Films

[lcomzee]

9 Animal Facts which will Leave You in Awe of Mother Nature

Bengal Tigers (India) Indian Bengal tiger within the wild, animal facts Shutterstock Bengal tigers are mostly found in India, but some smaller populations sleep in Bangladesh and China. Once upon a time, many thousands of tigers roamed the earth—but over the past century, three entire subspecies have gone extinct, leaving just five remainings. Bengal tigers are currently the foremost common tiger subspecies within the world with around 2,000 left within the wild. they create up quite half all wild tigers alive today.

2Indian Rhinoceros (India) Indian rhinoceros in Kaziranga park, animals facts Shutterstock Primarily found in northern India and Nepal, Indian rhinoceros have a mean lifetime of 40 years. they'll be big and bulky—an Indian rhino can weigh the maximum amount as an SUV—but don't underestimate their ability to sprint. Their charges are clocked at speeds of 30 miles per hour, and that they have the power to leap or change direction as quickly as an Olympic athlete.

3Gentoo Penguins (Antarctica) gentoo penguins in Antarctica watching one another, animal facts Shutterstock With their striking red-orange beaks, gentoo penguins typically make their homes within the rock-ridden grounds of Antarctica. They're the third-largest penguin species, but they take the gold when it involves swim speeds among penguins. ready to reach speeds of twenty-two miles per hour, gentoo penguins are said to require up to as many as 450 ocean dives in one day—and that's only for food. seems like they should've called that classic parlor game Hungry Hungry Penguins!

4Gemsbok (Namibia) gemsbok Oryx standing in Namibia desert, animal facts Shutterstock Gemsbok, sometimes mentioned as oryx, are antelopes found primarily within the Namibian desert. While these animals are certainly picturesque with their strong stature, they are not to be messed with. Their horns are essentially spears which will reach up to 30 inches long. Male gemsbok are known to kill lions by impaling them, thus begging the question: If gemsbok lived within the jungle, who would be the king?

5Galapagos Sea Lions (Ecuador) Galapagos eared seal within the water, animals facts Shutterstock Galapagos sea lions are one among two sorts of seals found around the Galapagos Islands (the other being fur seals). These sea lions are known for having an enormous degree of sexual dimorphism compared to other animals. Males can weigh quite fourfold a load of their female partners and even have a prominent bump on their forehead that females lack, making it far easier to differentiate their gender compared to most wild animals.

6Vicunas (The Andes, South America) two vicunas roaming around the Andes in Peru, animal facts Shutterstock The vicuna may be a member of the camel family typically found within the Andes of South America. alongside the closely related alpacas and llamas, vicunas are renowned for his or her soft and opulent coat. Vicuna wool is among the foremost expensive fabrics within the world—and one among the rarest, too, since the vicuna can only be shorn every three years.

7Andean Flamingos (The Andes, South America) flamingos near the salt flats in bolivia, animals facts Shutterstock Andean flamingos are one among three flamingo species native to the Andes; they're distinguished by their unique, natural yellow legs and three-toed feet. However, like most flamingos, their pink coloring isn't that way from day one. Flamingos are born entirely white, but turn various reminder pink as they mature thanks to the high beta carotene levels in their diet.

8Kudus (South Africa) kudu in Kruger national park South Africa, animal facts Shutterstock Like their antelope relative, the gemsbok, South African kudus are known for his or her massive horns. However, these horns accompany unique twists—that only get more twisty with age! They grow because the kudus mature, typically getting the primary twist at the age of two. a mature kudu, however, typically has two-and-a-half twists in each horn. Kudus are looked for centuries due to their unique appendages. Back within the 1800s, kudu horns were typically used for music.

9Arabian Camels (Jordan) two camels sitting in petra Jordan, animal facts Shutterstock Camels are one among the oldest domesticated animals in Jordan and are used as transportation within the desert for thousands of years. Unlike Asian camels, Arabian camels only have one hump. But that's all the animal needs. therein singular hump, Arabian camels can store up to 80 pounds of fat—which are often weakened into water and energy when needed. due to this insane storage capacity, camels can travel up to 100 miles within the desert with water. And for more awesome trivia about the planet, don't miss the 30 Craziest Facts About Planet Earth You Never Knew.