#why are they able to freely live with their mutations but he has to hide his away

[0vergrowngraveyard]

so ik that in prime nine can fly for a pretty long time but i will always believe that he either can’t fly or can only slow his fall or something along those lines

have you seen his tails??? there’s no way they can hold him up

they can’t even hold themselves up

[aenwoedbeannaa]

Forest Fires || Geralt x Reader

Requested By: salmonbutter

Word Count: 2,080

Warnings: Mild Violence, Gore, there will eventually be smut let’s be real.

Summary: A master huntress living deep in the woods, you rarely find yourself in human company. On a cool late autumn evening, the forest goes quiet. Not one to sit and wait for trouble to find you, you grab your bow and head out to look. A gravely injured Witcher with silver hair is the last thing you expected to find.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Note: This is only Part I of what will probably be a pretty long story. The rest will be linked when they are posted. Make sure you follow to stay up-to-date!

Part I: A Stranger in the Woods

The forest is eerily quiet. Yes, your home is far from civilization——by choice—but still, the usual sounds of evening were notably absent. Adrenaline courses through your veins, your body telling you that something was off. If the animals were silent, there was something quieting them.

You remembered a time when the adrenaline coursing through your veins would have filled you with panic. That was a long time ago, before you’d set off to live on your own. Now, the adrenaline only brought the world into hyper-focus. Every leaf, every twig, every silent creature scuttling past were noted.

Your bow is in your hand, one arrow drawn, though it is unnecessary. You can pull an arrow from your back, string it, and shoot before most people have time to blink twice. Your steps are quiet thanks to the leather boots you’d fashioned and years of practice. Your cousin used to joke that you should have been a Witcher. You always laughed it off, but if you were completely honest, you did not disagree.

You slip between the trees, keeping in the shadows and ensuring that your back was protected. The trees of the forest were excellent for that, and you knew the general area nearly as well as you knew your bow.

A twig snaps somewhere off to your left, and you draw in a silent breath. Its at least twenty feet away, but you need to be careful. It is unlikely that whatever snapped that twig is just an animal scrambling for hiding. The animals of this wood, just like you, are silent as death.

You slip between the trees, moving in the general direction of the sound. You’d rather catch whatever it is off-guard than wait for it to find you, which you are almost certain it would. You do not doubt your skills—you are an efficient killer, but you learned long ago that it was far better to be a predator than prey.

You keep your breathing even. If you don’t, your heartbeat will speed up, and trying to hear over the roar of blood in your ears is nearly impossible. You’ve covered at least half the distance between the tree you’d been using as protection when you heard the twig and the approximate location whoever or whatever it was that snapped that twig when you hear the sharp whistle of steel in the air and a sickening crack.

You are not the only hunter in the wood.

The swing of steel tells you that there is at least one human or elf involved. This is quite surprising, considering you’d heard only the snap of a single twig. Humans are never so silent. Even elves don’t move that quietly.

A moment later, you hear a sharp groan. It sounds like a man.

Growing curious, you speed up your movements slightly, still careful not to make a sound. Whatever is going on, the parties are moving quickly. It seems like you cannot catch up unless you are constantly moving.

The next sound you hear is the sound of something——claws? The sound of tearing flesh. Then there is another groan. The man is hurt, and badly from what she can gather. But there is one more powerful slash, steel cutting through air, flesh, and then bone.

You shudder. There is a reason you prefer your bow. Well-aimed arrows kill your prey instantly, and from a distance. Swords may be efficient, but they are messy.

You cautiously move forward, in case there was more than one creature. The chance of that being the case is quite unlikely, however. The air is already filling with the usual sounds of the wood once more. Birds tweeting, the scraping of tiny claws against wood as squirrels dash climb the rough tree trunks, jumping from branch to branch with ease.

You reach a small clearing——oddly perfect for battle. Your eyes land first on some grotesque creature that you are quite positive that you’ve never seen before. These woods are generally untouched by beasts. A chill runs up your spine as you stare at the creature. Its dark, patchy fur is coated with blood. Its hideous head has been hacked clean from its body.

Once you tear your head away from the supernatural-looking beast, they fix on a man. You see the sword that must have done the hacking lying on the ground next to him. You notice immediately by its shine that it is silver, not steel. So, a Witcher. That explains why he he hadn’t made a sound.

He is lying in a pool of his own blood. Four claw marks seem to have cut clean through his armor. As you approach, he groans once more. If he hadn’t, you would have thought he was dead, as wounded as he was. It was said that Witchers were able to withstand much more than the average human, thanks to their mutations. Still, Witcher or no, if he stays there much longer, he will die. He’s losing too much blood.

You sling your bow back over your shoulder, confident that there was only one of those things, and this Witcher killed it. You are already digging in your satchel as you lurch toward the Witcher. You’re going to have to staunch the bleeding and keep the deep wounds from getting infected.

Ever prepared for a hunt gone sour, you’ve got a small jar of healing salve and a roll of cotton bandages. Judging by the look of the Witcher’s injuries, you are going to need the entire jar. You momentarily hesitate, because that one jar had taken you at least a month to prepare, and the herbs it contained were either difficult to find or incredibly expensive. Still, your conscience would never let you leave someone bleeding out on the forest floor——especially when that someone killed a beast that could very well have done the same thing to you had it been left to freely wander the woods.

You go to work immediately, pulling your hunting knife out of the strap that held it to your leg. It takes some effort, but you are able to cut away most of his leather armor and underclothes to reveal four deep gashes across his torso a and up to his shoulder. Thankfully, you were used to things like this. Well, not exactly like this, but similar enough.

A deer and a human aren’t so different, you had to tell yourself. You didn’t complete the thought, which was that, when you saw a deer in this situation, you were usually in the process of gutting it for a winter’s worth of food and new clothes.

Stifling the urge to vomit, you scooped out a good deal of the oily mixture and began slathering it on the open wounds. The moment it touched his skin, you heard a harsh intake of breath. You glanced up at the Witcher’s face to see his eyes had opened wide in what you could only read as fear and pain. They were amber, with pupils like a cat’s. His jaw was clamped tightly shut, teeth barred.

“It stings, I know,” you tell him in as soothing a tone as you can muster thanks to your own fear. “It will numb after a few minutes,” you add.

The silver-haired Witcher just grunts and nods his head, screwing his eyes shut, and you go back to work slathering the ointment over each gash, ignoring the blood now coating your hands.

You unroll the cotton bandages, thankful that you have an exorbitant amount with you. You begin wrapping it tightly around his shoulder, the easiest place to begin. By now, though, the Witcher’s eyes are open and his breathing has steadied somewhat. The numbing agents in your salve must be working. And thank heavens for that, because there is no way that you’d be able to wrap the rest of his wounds without him sitting up.

“Can you sit up?” Your tone is gentle but firm. Hopefully, he can. Otherwise, you’re going to have to figure out how to bind his wounds some other way.

Thankfully, he answers, it’s more of a grunt than the word “yes,” but he nods his head. You support him as best you can with one hand on his back, helping him into a sitting position. Once he is sitting, you position yourself behind him so that he has something to support him.

His hair is softer than you thought it would be——though you were surprised to even think about that at the present moment. It is difficult not to, though, when you’re nose is nearly buried in it as you look over his shoulder to make sure that you’re covering his wounds.

It takes a few minutes, but finally the Witcher is tightly bandaged up. You can see blood seeping through the bandages, but thankfully, they are not soaked through. It is, you assumed, a combination of your homemade healing salve and the mutation that you’ve read about—Witchers heal much more quickly than humans do.

Now that he’s bandaged up and the salve has numbed the worst of the pain, he looks far better than he did even ten minutes ago. You pull your water skin off of your pack and offer it to him.

“You should drink,” you tell him. You are on auto-pilot. The auto-pilot that has, so far, saved your own skin a number of times.

“Thank you.” His voice catches you somewhat off-guard as he takes the water skin from your hand. His voice is deep and soothing, somehow. But you shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, either.

You are already digging in your pack, looking for something for him to eat. With so much blood loss, he might topple over. You manage to scrounge up a handful of dried berries, seeds, and nuts.

“No need for thanks,” you tell him, meaning every word. You may be a bit of a recluse, but you do not have contempt for others. You just prefer to be alone. “Eat this,” you add quickly, practically shoving the handful of gathered food at him.

There is no need, however. He takes it and tentatively takes a few bites before eventually wolfing down the entire thing.

“That’s all I’ve got with me,” you frown. “But there’s plenty more back at my cottage, and I can make you some real food.” It’s more of a command than an offer. He is no longer toeing the line between life and death, but he is still not well. It will take an excellent healer to ensure that things go smoothly.

Thankfully, you are an excellent healer.

You look over at the Witcher, relieved to see that there was slight color in his cheeks now. Despite the slightly bloody bandages, he no longer looked like he was on the brink of death. You know already that there is no way you will be able to carry him all the way back to the cottage. You are strong, but the Witcher is huge, and clearly made all of muscle.

“Do you think you can walk?” you ask, chewing on your bottom lip. If he cannot, you already have a few ideas in your head. It wouldn’t be ideal, but you could probably run back to the cottage for some of the freshly tanned deer hide and fashion a bed of sorts. Dragging him back through the trees would be difficult, but not impossible.

Thankfully, however, he nods.

“Okay,” you say nodding. “Good…” You seem to have run out of words. Mostly because you were already running through a list of what you’d do once you got this stranger back to your home. You’d have to address his wounds more carefully, give him something to eat and drink. You have poppy milk, so he will be able to sleep without pain.

He pulls you from your thoughts when he finally speaks.

“My name is Geralt,” he says. “Can I ask yours, Huntress?”

You smile, despite the fact that you know he is gleaning information from you. You don’t blame him. It is difficult to trust anybody these days. You respond with your name, and he smiles back.

“Well, Y/N,” he says as you position yourself to help him up, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulder so he can lean on you for support. “I suppose I ought to thank you for saving my life.”

To be continued.

[pink-bird-30]

Becoming My Own Hero-Olicity & Robstar Crossover Fic

Ight.  I’m making this the go to place to find alllllllll the links to my story because tumblr has this astounding ability to make my story impossible to find.  Even using my own hashtag I have difficulty finding it!  

So here we go.  The links to all 7 chapters of Becoming My Own Hero:

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Full Synopsis: 

Oliver Queen Felicity Smoak had a daughter named Star Gabrielle Queen. On the night of her 8th birthday, her life changes forever. She is kidnapped by ARGUS and is recruited by Amanda Waller to protect the earth from Aliens, like Superman. But the genetic mutation she undergoes makes her stronger than they thought. To hide their mistake, they send her to her home planet Tamaran. Years later, the Justice League needs help from the Titans. The Titans head to Star City to assist in taking down a greater enemy, but how will Starfire handle being home after 11 years of being away, and her family believing that she would never come back?

This is a slow moving story.  If you can tell by the publish date, I’ve been working on this for 3 years. A lot has happened that I haven’t been able to keep up with this story, but I’m trying to do better.

I hope you guys enjoy this story and my latest chapter!

As always, Happy Reading!

                                                   Chapter 7

                                                  Trained Pt.2

I can’t believe this is happening

For as long as Robin could remember he’d always had some sort of attraction to Starfire.  Don’t get him wrong, its undeniable that she is this beautiful person, but standing there with his arms around her, deepening their ‘first’ kiss was blinding.  He hadn’t truly realized how much he cared about her, how much she means to him, how much this could ruin everything.

What if they broke up?  Would she still be his friend?  Would she leave the Titans and never come back?  Would she go home!?

Robin abruptly pulls back, allowing his doubts to control him, and puts Starfire at arm’s length.  Starfire gives him a hurt expression and steps away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Richard?”

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.  He’s standing there like a fish out of water.

Starfire feels her whole world come crashing down.

How could he…I’m so stupid.

Not waiting for the ‘we’re teammates and shouldn’t date’ conversation, she turns her back on him and reaches for the elevator button.  Once it reaches the ground floor she walks inside and finally turns to face a grief stricken Robin.

“I do understand why you wear the mask; you’re eyes tell a story the different than the actions.  Night, Robin.”

The doors to the elevator closes and she lets her tears fall freely knowing he will never understand how much he hurt her tonight.

Down in the garage, Robin beats himself up for allowing Batman to continue to dictate his life.

“Dammit!”  Robin punches the wall of the garage and immediately regrets it.  He crumples back in pain, his hand throbbing.  He can already feel the bruise spreading across his hand, creating deep shades of purple.  But he doesn’t care.  He finally had the opportunity to be happy for once in his life and he chose to listen to his hero side while standing there as Richard.  

What did I do?

--------------------------

Gotham 1996

“Mr. Wayne,”  Bruce looks up from his desk taking note of his PR lady, whose name he can’t seem to remember; Rebecca?  Leslie?  “The press is ready for you.”  

Bruce stands up from his desk, straightens his tie, and checks his hair one last time in his cabinet mirror before leaving his office with…Vickie, Vickie Vale!

“Thank you, Ms. Vale.  Lead the way.”  He smirks and winks at her, knowing how his charm needs to be on full blast for what he’s about to do.  He gestures for her to walk out of his office first and follows behind, adjusting his cufflinks as they make theie way to the conference room.

The large windowed room held Gotham’s top reporters from: Gotham Gazzett, Channel 9, The Gotham Times, and Gotham News Network. The first wave of flashes startled Bruce, it’s been many years since he was exposed to the media, and having all these news stations here today is jarring compared to his secluded life back in Nada Parbat.

“Mr. Wayne, is it true you are the Batman?”

“Mr. Wayne, did cha’ really crash your new Bentley?”

“Mista Wayne, are you single?”

Bruce takes a deep breath, allowing himself to adjust back to his playboy swagger; concealing the person whom only a select few know.  He opens his arms wide and smiles dazzlingly to the press,  “Ladies and Gentlemen, I understand my disappearance has been hard on everyone in Gotham, especially the single ladies.”  He winks at Vickie again, making her blush, and continues, “I know my families influence in Gotham is important.  And for that, I am apologetic.  But there is reason for my disappearance.

“Since the death of my beloved parents, Martha and Thomas Wayne, I’ve always wanted to discover if I had family elsewhere.”  Bruce moves across the room, passing the large wooden table in the center of the room, and leans against the glass windows looking down to the city below.  He can clear as day see all the destruction his absence has caused in such a short period of time.  The thought sending a deep blow to his gut, knowing he chose to leave, but wished there was someone who could have kept Gotham free from evil.

Bruce looks back to the press, taking note they are waiting for him to continue.

“I went across seas to search for a missing relative on my father’s side.  My butler, Alfred Pennyworth, had informed me of a long lost niece.”  The crowd of reporter gasping at the new discovery.  “I’ve brought her here today for you all to meet her.  Her name is Gabrielle Wayne.”  On cue, Alfred walks into the room pushing a black stroller and stops in front of Bruce.

“If you’d like to take a photo of my niece, please turn the flash off.  It can harm a baby’s eyes.  She’s only a few weeks old.”

Gently, Bruce reaches into the stroller to pick up Star and holds her in his arms.  The room stills at the sight of the new Wayne child.  No one never thought the Wayne bloodline would continue considering Bruce’s relations with women has never lead to a serious relationship.

“Excuse me, Mr. Wayne.”  A young brunette woman from the Gotham Gazette pushes herself through the crowd of reporters.  “Gloria with Gotham Gazette, what are your plans for taking care of Gabrielle?  Will Alfred be her primary caretaker or will you be heiring a nanny?”

Bruce smiles down at Star as she stares back at him, a small giggle escaping her.  “Alfred and I will be responsible for her.  If I do need additional assistance, it will be taken care of in private.  Gabrielle deserves to live a relatively normal life.”

Gloria reaches her tape recorder out further to Bruce, “Follow-up question:  How can you raise a child in a dangerous city such as Gotham?  With the rise of the Falcone crime family, and unrest in the deep underground of Gotham, how can you guarantee her safety?”

“Excellent question, Gloria.”  Bruce shifts Star in his arms, moving her to rest her head against his shoulder.  “Given my new status as her guardian, it will be my top priority to protect her at all cost.  With that being said, today I will be announcing the charity event I will be hosting for GCPD.  We will be holding an auction to raise money for the police department and expanding their crime division to include metahuman training.  In our ever changing world, we must be prepared for the impossible.”

“Final question Mr. Wayne.  How does it feel knowing Oliver Queen is alive and well?”  Bruce’s mind goes blank realizing he’s been gone far longer than Oliver has been back in Star City.  He feigns shock, “O-Oliver is alive?  Since when?”

“He was discovered on an island in the North China sea about two years ago, Mr. Wayne.”  Gloria supplies.  “Why are you unaware of the sudden reappearance of your long-time friend, Oliver Queen?”

Alfred clears his voice, the attention of the media shifting from Bruce to Alfred.  “Master Wayne did not have access to the news overseas, he spent his time searching for his belove niece.”

Gloria scrunches her eyebrows in confusion and pushes forward, “Sir, it’s 1996.  The media is everywhere.  I find it hard to believe Mr. Wayne was unaware of Oliver’s reappearance.”

Bruce’s jaw locks in a straight line, “Gloria, please understand.  If I weren’t overly set on finding my niece, leading to deep parts of Europe where there was hardly an internet café, I would have been in Star City when he arrived home.  Trust me when I say, he’s like a brother to me.”

Gloria raises a brow at his claim, still seeing through the holes of his story.

I’ll find out the truth later…

Star becomes restless in Bruce’s arms.  He rocks her gently but it doesn’t seem to be calming her down.  He casts a slightly panicked look at Alfred who gestures to her stroller. The media watches as Bruce kisses the top of Star’s head, a few camera shutters going off, and he sets Star back into her stroller.  He buckles the small black belt across her chest and between her chubby little legs.  Almost instantly she starts to nod off, cooing softly.  Bruce smiles down at her and places a light blue knitted blanket over her legs.  Alfred steps forward to take her back out of the room.

Bruce turns back to the group of people and they are all silent in awe if this new Bruce Wayne.

“Gloria,”  Her attention snapping to him, realizing she was entranced by his care as a new father. “I’m grateful my friend is alive and well; I’ll have to check up on him at some point in the future.  Until then, thank you all for coming here today to share in this great day.  I look forward to mingling will you all at the GCPD Charity event.”  Bruce waves to them as he leaves the room, ignoring the onslaught of questions being hurtled his way as he backs out of the room and heads back down where he once came.

Out in the hallway, Vicki Vale walks ahead of Bruce, her maroon heels clicking against the marble floors.  He can feel himself releasing a slow breath.  This was a journey he never envisioned for himself.  He never thought he’d take on such an important responsibility without much thought.  This wasn’t like him.  But the second he met Star, he knew he needed to protect her at all costs.

He knew it was time to reach back into the Bruce he shut off a long time ago, the young man who didn’t know his purpose in life.  The young man who lost everything he cared for and became a playboy that he knew his parents would be disappointed in.  The young man that shut himself off from anyone who cared for him and pushed them away.  He needs that innocent, vulnerable part of himself back for this new challenged.

He needed to be Bruce, not Bruce Wayne.

---------------------------------

Titans Tower 2012

Starfire lays in bed tossing and turning all night until the first peak of light start to sneak its way into dawn.  Starfire growls at the ball of fire that typically greats her happily each day, but after last night, she wanted to be left alone.

She felt a new wave of tears gather in her eyes thinking about last night’s events.  Why had Robin pushed her away?  Why did she think it could be easy?  Why does this human boy have such a hold on her heart?

“Richard…”  she sighs into her pillow, hugging it close to her chest.  She wants nothing more than to be with him.  The feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around her, making her feel safe.  The taste of his lips still ever present even hours later.  And his eyes, he trusted her enough to show her who he was.  And that’s what hurts the most.  Robin was so vulnerable with her but pulled away.

What is wrong with boys…

A subtle knock on her door gains her attention.  She scrunches her brows in confusion, knowing no one would be up at this ungodly hour besides her.  Starfire always rises with the sun, wanting to take in the first few rays to power her through the day.  But today was the opposite, she wanted her room to keep the light out.  She wants to be alone and bask in the darkness her curtains can provide her.

The knock comes again more urgently, “Star, we really need to talk.  I fucked up bad.”

Starfire stills hearing Robin’s voice ring through her door.  Why does he think he can  pull a stunt like he did last night and not expect any consequences for his actions?  Does he expect Starfire to accept an apology and be happy he finally acted on his feelings for her?

He knocks again.

“Star? Please, open the door.”  The desperation in his voice was enough to make her eyes roll.  Starfire huffs in frustration and weighs her options.  It’s either deal with this now or have the entire team butting in when they are trying to hash it out.  That thought alone was enough for Starfire to sit up in bed and make her way to her floor length mirror.

Starfire runs her fingers through her hair and checks herself in the mirror.  She’s wearing shorts and a string tank top, nothing too risqué, but enough to short circuit any teenaged boys’ mind.  She walks over to the door to unlock it, letting it swish open revealing an equally tired Robin.

“Hello, Robin.”  Starfire turns away from him and walks back over to her bed, not bothering to wait for him to reply.  She hears him clear his throat and step into her room, letting the door swish close behind him.  She doesn’t bother to look up at him; she didn’t want him to see how much he hurt her.

“Star—I.” he stops just short of her bed, keeping a friendly distance between them, but close enough that he can still reach out to her.

“You what?  You have the regrets?  If that is so, please do the leaving.  I rather save myself the humiliation.”  She crosses her arms and huffs, her hair slightly flaming at the ends.

Robins sighs, already feeling defeated.  He spent the last three hours trying to find the right words to express himself, but he’s never really been in a relationship with anyone before.  Barbara doesn’t count too much.  They were only 14 and she ended up having feelings for someone at their high school.

“May I sit?”  He gestures to the space next to her on the bed.  He’s never asked permission before, he’s always felt comfortable enough around Star to be there with her, but now everything was different.  Her bed didn’t seem oh-so innocent anymore.  If anything, it made him very much aware her pajamas cover very little of her.

Her green eyes are sharp and sizing him up, “You may.”

Shaking away all impure thoughts running through his head, Robin sits down next to Starfire on the bed, turning to take her hands in his.  “Star, I didn’t mean to push you away last night.  I was—”  he pauses feeling Starfire pull her hands from his slowly.  Robin feels panic settle in his chest for a moment.

Oh god, she doesn’t even want me to touch her anymore.

Tentatively, she touches the corner of his mask, silently asking permission to remove it.  Robin sighs in relief and nods, understanding why she wants it off.  He has nothing left to hide from her; he’s ready to be open and honest with someone for the first time in years.

Her fingers are soft against his cheek as she gently pulls at the mask, letting it fall to the ground next to her bed.  She brushes her thumb against his cheek before dropping her hands to her lap again.

“You may proceed.”

“What I was going to say is that I was—I was scared, Star.”  He stares at her with his intense blue eyes, the fear showing bright within them.  “All these negative thoughts of what could happen if this doesn’t work out came rushing all at once, and I-“ Robin takes a deep breath, trying to steady his voice.  “You’re the last person I want to lose.  I’ve already lost too many people I care about.”

Starfire sits there in silence allowing Robin’s words to hang between them.  She can see the panicked expression settling across his face.  His hold on her hands starts to loosen, but she’s quick to tighten the hold, preventing him from fleeing again.

“Ouch.”

Starfire is confused by his sudden pain and looks down to look at his hand.

“Oh!  Richard, what did you do?!”  she examines his right hand, running her delicate finger over the deep purple bruise, touching it tenderly to feel for any broken bones.  He hisses when she touches the darker stain across his knuckles.

“Ah, yeah.  I sorta punch the garage wall last night after you left.  I was angry because I still let—”  Robin realizes what he was about to say and freezes.

“I am the confused, who are you allowing to do the controlling of you?”  Starfire asks as she stands from the bed and goes to her adjoining bathroom for a first aid kit from under the sink.  She settles back on her bed, close enough that her knee brushes his thigh.

Robin frowns, “I-my adoptive father.  He’s…you don’t know about my family, do you?”  Robins asks.  Starfire frowns.  Of course she knows who Robin’s adoptive father is.  It’s her uncle, but Robin doesn’t know that she has her memories back yet.

She’ll have to pretend not to know.  But then again, Bruce Wayne is a very public figure…

Feigning confusion Starfire shakes her head, “No, I am unaware of your k’norfka.”  She continues to rifle through the first aid kit trying to find a disposable ice pack.

Robin flexes his fingers, feeling the pain radiate through his fingers.  “Let’s just say he’s a very public figure and the reason why I have to keep my identity hidden, if they know who I am-“

“Then they will have the knowledge of whom the Batman is.” Starfire looks up to meet Robin’s eyes.  She can see the sadness embedded deep within, but she still can’t shake the fact he rejected her last night.

Breaking eye contact, Star pulls the ice pack from the kit and breaks it, letting the beans cool up.  She takes hold of Robin’s hand and gently lays the ice pack on his hand.

Robin hisses at the weight of the ice pack, but then relaxes once the cool pack starts to numb his hand from the pain.

“Thanks.”  He smiles at her making her heart jump, seeing his eyes crinkle at the corner and the warmth radiating from them.

He really cares for me…

Starfire shifts closer to him, positioning his hand on her thigh, and takes a small pack of pain medication from the kit and hands it to Robin.  When he doesn’t reach for them, Starfire looks at him quizzically; confused by his distracted state.

“Richard?”

“Hm.”  His eyes are still focused on his hand resting against her thigh.  The warmth seeping its way from his hand through his veins.

“Here, take the medication of pain.”  He open his hand, accepting the pack of pills.  Her hand grazes his, a soft brush of her fingers against his gloveless palm.  It sends a small spark to his heart, and he can see Starfire is just as affected when she doesn’t retract her hand right away.

Feeling brave, letting his fears go and taking responsibility for his actions, Robin closes his hand around hers.  “For a long time, I let him dictate what I could and couldn’t do.  And sometimes that younger, more obedient version of myself overclouds my judgment and I make poor decisions.”

Robin releases Starfire’s hand, letting the packet of pills drop to her bed, and reaches to cup her face.  At first she freezes, unsure where this conversation is going, fearful he may reject her again.  But when his thumb brushes her cheek tenderly, she leans more into him, accepting the small comfort he is offering her.

“When we formed the Titans, I didn’t want to be the version of myself I was before I came to Jump City.  This isn’t Gotham, the threats aren’t the same and the people aren’t the same.  I had to become a different type of hero for those kinds of people because there’s hope here.”  He smiles lightly, making Starfire smile in return.  “ This city isn’t on the brink of destruction; sure there’s been plenty of villains attempting to take over, but the five of us are able to keep them at bay.  Each and every single one of us is able to not only protect one another, but ourselves.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is: I’m afraid of something happening to you.  To all of you, but I can’t let that fear dictate my happiness.  I know you can handle any situation, but I still can’t help that small voice that tells me otherwise.  I trust you Starfire, and I trust that us, together, can work.”

The only sound in the room was the distant rumble of waves hitting the island rocks down below.  Could he really mean it?  Does he…does he really want to be with her?

Starfire’s eyes widen at his words, “Richard, I do not want to do the reading of the words, but are you—are you asking me…?

The ice pack on Robin’s hand plops to the bed as he moves his hand up her thigh, causing a slight blush to cross her cheeks.  He moves up her side, grazing it softly, feeling the soft fabric of the tank top against his hand.  As he reaches her shoulder, he inches his face closer to hers before his hand finds home threading slowly through her long auburn locks.  Starfire can feel her skin burning from where his hand traveled, leaving a wake of gooseflesh bubbling her sun kissed skin.

Just like the night before, the magnetic pull between the two was undeniable.  Starfire rests her head against Robin’s, “Do you promise not to do the freak out again if we have the lip contact?”

Robin chuckles deep in his throat, “I won’t.  Not this time.”  He brushes a strand of hair away from her face, “I’m all in if you are.”

Wrapping her arms around his shoulder’s, Starfire pulls Robin towards her as she lays down against the pillows, leaving him hovering over her.  Robin gazes at her warmly finally feeling content.

Her green eyes glowing bright with glee as she drags him closer to her again.  Their bodies flush together, and her hand weaving its way into his hair.  His injured hand rests against her hip and the other cups the side of her face.  He tilts his head down allowing their lips to brush lightly as Starfire’s hand caresses the side of Robin’s face.

“I very much am, Richard.”  She whispers against his lips and gives him a slow, chaste kiss before pulling back completely, watching Robin’s eyes open slowly.  A smile spreads across his face making Starfire giggle in return.

“But—“  her face taking on a serious look, making Robin squirm.  “—If you do the pulling of the yesterday events, I will not have the pleasantries for you once more.  You have the understanding?”

Robin visibly gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.  “I promise, Star.”

She smiles brightly and gives him another slow kiss.  This one sending waves of happiness through the young alien.

“What are we going to tell the others?”  Robin asks as he pulls back and reluctantly untangles himself from Starfire.  He lays down next to her on the bed, propping himself against the soft purple pillows.

Starfire moves to her side facing him and takes his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.  Will they be upset?  Will they celebrate?  Should they keep it a secret for now?

Starfire’s train of thought is cut short by Robin’s hand slowly grazing up her side, sending shivers down her spine.  She find herself cuddling closer to him, allowing his arm to wrap around her fully.

I can definitely get used to this.

Feeling more and more comfortable Starfire feels herself succumbing to her exhaustion.

“I do believe—”  She lets out a yawn and blinks her eyes sleepily.  “—it is the problem for later.  I did not have pleasant shlorvax last night.”  She yawns again, emphasizing her tired state and snuggles closer to Robin’s warm body.  Robin shifts to lay on his back, leaving room for Starfire to rest her head on his shoulder and her arms to wrap around his waist.

Sleepily, Robin yawns as well, feeling the events of the past few hours finally catching up to him.

“Sounds good to me.” He whispers, feeling his eyes grow heavy.

“Pleasant shlorvax, Richard.”  She kisses the underside of his jaw and falls into peaceful sleep.  He wraps his arm tighter around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and drags the blanket over the both of them.

“Night, Star.”

-------------------------------

Starling City 1996

Felicity finds herself wander down the long winding staircase of the foundry.  Her still protruding belly stretching her black knit sweater uncomfortably as she waddles down the stairs.  She can hear the grunts of someone working out on the gym mats and the sound of keys being clicked on her keyboard.  The thought alone sends Felicity to waddle down the stairs at a brisk pace, making her shoes thump against the hard concrete floor.

“Who the hell is touching my keyboard?  Is it Roy?  How many times have I told you not to touch—”  

“Felicity!?”  John Diggle shoots up from her desk chair as Felicity approaches.  She does a double take to see she’s really seeing who she thinks it is.

“Dig?”  She says in disbelief.  The past year has been extremely hard on Felicity and finally coming home, but without her love and daughter, she didn’t think anyone would be down here.

Diggle wipes a tired hand down his face and lets out a short laugh that could pass as a choked sob.  “You’re okay?  Really?”  He looks down her body.  She looks paler than usual, her hair showing her dark roots and her belly, hanging low.  This catches Diggle’s attention immediately.

His eyes widen, “Are you pregnant?”

Felicity bites her lip, knowing this was not how she wanted to tell Dig she and Oliver had a child together.  She thought it’d be like when Sara was born.  All of them huddled in a hospital room wanting to take a turn holding Star in their arms.  They’d take their first Team Arrow photo together.  But Ra’s took that from her, from them.  

Felicity presses a hand to her bulging stomach, he lips quivers from the onslaught of emotions facing through her.

“I was pregnant, Dig.  Oliver and I—”  her voice cracks and the damn breaks.  Diggle pulls her into a tight hug, wishing he could take all the pain away.  She sobs into his chest, wishing Oliver and Star were there with her.

After a few moments, Felicity steps back and wipes away the tears with her black sleeve.  She sniffles as she walks over to her forgotten computer desk and sits down in her chair.  The chair where she watched Oliver for hours using the salmon ladder.  Where she and Oliver would talk about their future together, how they both wanted a family…

And now she sits there alone.

“Dig.”  Her voice rough from tears.  “We need to help Oliver get out of the league, no matter how long it takes.  I need my family back.”

Diggle nods in understanding.  If it were Lyla and Sara on the line, he’d be raising hell to get them back.

Felicity begins her research on Ra’s al Ghul in order to develop a plan to bring down the League of Shadows.  She starts by listing anyone and everyone that is in association with the league:

Sara Lance, Malcom Merlin, Maseo, Talia al ghul, Nyssa al Ghul, Star Queen...

The last name catches Diggle off guard, “Felicity, whose Star Queen?”

Her fingers stop moving on the keyboard and turns to him sadly, “That’s our daughter’s name.  Star Queen.”

Diggle feels his throat tighten realizing this baby girl is stuck in one of the scariest places on Earth.  Why would Felicity leave her there?  Why not bring her back?

“Before you ask, I did not have a choice.”  She looks up at the celling of the foundry her eyes growing wet once more.  “She had to stay and be inducted to the league as an heir.  They took my baby from me Dig,  my baby.”

Diggle places a comforting hand on Felicity’s shoulder.  Not truly knowing how to comfort her in this situation.  How could he?  His wife and child are safe at home, far away from these kinds of monsters that Oliver and Felicity find themselves fighting against.

“Yo, Dig!”  Roy bellows from the training mats.  “Did you see the news?  Bruce Wayne is back in Gotham.  And he has a kid!”  Roy comes barreling in from the sparring mats, sweat dripping down his face.  He takes a good look at the small blonde perched in her usual seat.  Roy stops short of the med table, the shock overwhelming him before he rushes at her, and engulfs her into a big hug.

“Felicity, is it really you?!”  Roy asks in disbelief.  How is it possible that she is back?  It’s been almost a year since she and Oliver went to Nada Parbat to resurrect Thea.  Thea came home right away and told them how Oliver had to stay to be the Heir to the Demon Head.  And Felicity was subjected to stay, but did not understand why.  But standing there, taking in Felicity’s appearance, it wasn’t tough for Roy to put two and two together.

“That’s why you stayed.   You were pregnant…Where’s the-?”

“Roy.”  Dig says warningly.

Felicity looks away from them, feeling her throat tighten.  She clenches and unclenches her firsts trying to control her emotions, but post-partum has already kicked in and she couldn’t help the few tears that fell.

“She is safe.”  She whispers.  Roy steps forward and wraps his arms around her again, giving her a tight hug. Felicity reacts immediately feeling safe in her friend’s arms.  Roy was always like a younger brother to her, and she missed him terribly for the year she was gone.

But why did Roy come in here again?

“Bruce Wayne is back in Gotham.  And he has a kid!”

Felicity abruptly pulls back from Roy and swings her chair back around to face her desktop.  She rapidly types in a series of codes and brings up the local news.

“Good Morning, Starling City.  I’m Summer Gleeson and here’s Today’s breaking news.  Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham City after being gone for nearly 7 years.  Not only is his reappearance suspicious, but he has a child!  Before you all lose your hats, here’s the dish.  Our sources at the Wayne conference earlier today confirm that it is a long lost niece on Bruce’s father’s side.  Here is the first look at the new baby of Gotham, Gabrielle Wayne!”

The tv cuts to the press briefing at Wayne Enterprises.  They watch as Bruce makes this grand speech before Alfred rolls in a stroller.

Felicity feels her chest beat fast as she realizes what is happening.

“Oh, frack.”

Diggle looks questioningly to Felicity before watching the screen once more.

“…her name is Gabrielle Wayne.”

“That’s my baby…”  Felicity sobs, clutching at her still round belly.

Roy’s eyes widen, “Why would Bruce Wayne…”

“Oliver, this was the plan he didn’t tell me about.  But I don’t think he thought Bruce would be so public…”  Felicity’s voice drifts as she watches her baby girl giggle on screen, bringing a smile to her tear streaked face.

A warm hand lands on her shoulder and she leans her head against it.  “She’s beautiful, Felicity.”  Diggle gave her shoulder a squeeze letting her know he’s here for her and ready to take on whatever it take to bring her home.

With a renewed feeling of ambition.  Felicity takes a deep breath, sits up in her chair, and squares her shoulders, causing Diggle’s hand to fall away.

“So,”  Roy steps forward to lean against the desk, facing Diggle and Felicity.  “What’s the plan, boss.”

Felicity smiles for the first time in months,  feeling hope after all the darkness she was exposed to for 9 months.

“We’re getting them back.”  She reaches out to take Diggle’s and Roy’s hands.  She needed their team to get this done.  They will need all the help they can get to bring Oliver and Star home.  

“Let’s get to work.”

[kurtty-drabbles]

Postwoman au (part 9)

N/A: Oh, God! It has been years. No, seriously. This one will be straight to the point. Kurt is just messing with Kitty.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @muninandhugin @tieflingteeth

There´s a saying passed down by generations that goes more or less like this: when you´re about to die, you´ll see all your life in a flash. However, the same can apply to one scene that you deem important.

Kitty Pryde never hide the fact she´s a city gal at its core, sure, she may like animals and even ride horse-once and it was thanks to Mirage who lead the horse one time-yet, Kitty would never prefer camping over a day in the city.

Once upon a time, the Prydes ventured camping. Kitty was a small bean- her father´s words, not hers- pouting and complaining akin to a cat, however, the pouts and jokes stop once a wild wolf enters their line of view.

Kitty, herself, doesn´t remember that episode but her mother always gives the details to paint a mental image. The small bean! Kitty tried to face the wolf with all the courage someone so young can muster.

Thankfully, a ranger did pass down and saved the Prydes. A story with a happy ending. However, what possesses a young Kitty to try to face a wolf?

Right now, what posses Kitty to stares down at whatever is gazing at her as if she could win? Stubbornness or stupidity? At this point, it doesn´t matter.

"What...strange little creature you are" his English is too heavy. The accent is too noticeable and almost familiar, but, she can be excused for not paying too much attention to his phonetic.

Kitty hugs the basket with her rocks. A mission is a mission. A job is a job. Her eyes noticed the fog cloud the area. A black fog that has a smell of brimstone-flashes of fire invaded her mind. Fire and more fire. Kitty could even taste her own flesh burning- as her eyes scan the area one last time.

"Rich words coming from a coward that hides in the fog!" Kitty reminisces the time Bobby fought an invisible man. According to him, he was extremely lucky in that fight, because the invisible man had a perfume so strong that even Bobby-who has a normal nose- could pick up. Can this apply to Kitty too?

The voice gave a burst of bombastic laughter. It was laughter or a mini-Earthquake? Kitty scans the area again. She takes a step down as she waits for any attack. Any clue of where this invisible force may be.

"If you think I´m hiding then it means you´re not from here..." his tone is conversational. "Or you´re not from this time..." the fog gets thicker as Kitty can measure up with her naked eye. "Nor I think you´re a witch!" the former is an accusation.

Kitty´s lips straighten in a thin line as her eyebrows narrow. The fog remains. The fog gets thicker and thicker causing Kitty to try to levitate. "I don´t have to answer to you..." She opens her mouth in a perfect O when noticing she can´t levitate. The Fog is not allowing.

"Yet..." the creature continues ignoring Kitty´s rude stares. "your hair says you´re guarded by someone...how interesting" and laughs again as Kitty´s eyes are doing a scan for the third time. "Oh, darling, mein dumme Frau, I´m not here...I´m up here!" his tone is jovial.

Kitty almost screams as her eyes follow up and saw a mountain and two golden moons. Until her mind registers that the creature is the mountain and the moons are its eyes.

"The fog..." Kitty got pale. Still hugging the basket because Kurt trusted her with this mission.

"Me, all me, Schoen Frau" Replied amused. Now, Kitty can see its razor-sharp teeth up close. “What a non-witch is doing with my magical rocks?”

Kitty stills hugs the basket. Kurt trusted her and Kitty, for some reason, doesn´t want to let him down. “I´m on a mission…is all I can say. If you don´t let me do my job, my boss will come here and kick your ass…serious, he´s really scary and into some strange things”

The creature frowns at her briefly. “You don´t know my name, do you?”

Kitty has the perfect counter-answer. “Do you know mine?”

“No, how curious is that…I usually know everyone´s name. OK, mein Frau…you can call me Chernobog” Kitty's expression twisted as the name dances in her mind. “And I´m not as cruel as to prevent a working woman to do her job, so, let´s make you a deal, mein Frau?”

Kitty cannot trust in fairies and Gods-even if what land her into this job was an Outer God- and hissed carefully now. “Depends”

“Oh, don´t look so frightened,  I´ve no intention to harm you. All I ask you to stay here until the sun rises. If you can handle my party, I´ll let you leave with the stones” Noticing her confusion and distress. “I gave my word as a God, Mein Frau if a God breaks a promise….”

“She or he dies right away” Kitty completes the sentence. “If I accept, what your party will entail?” She was vision orgies and maybe some public-speech in languages she´ll never understand.

The creature smiles too inviting. Too above her. “Dancing and music, just that”

Seems…innocent enough.

“Deal”

The fog let her touch the ground. Kitty only has to endure one demonic party. Well, she saw Yana´s parties in the past, this is nothing on her resume now.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Kitty is not even sure if she can still in the mountains. The fog remains. The burning smell remains but as she can walk freely now-she had a paranoid moment where she thought her feet are being mutated and sigh in relief as this is not the case- and notice the lack of life in such a party.

Her brown eyes stare at a procession coming her way. People wearing black and white clothes coming her way. Slow steps as if they have no rush.

The woman manages to take a good look at their faces and cover her mouth with one of her free hands. The procession of the undead is hard to miss. The flash decaying from its owners. Eyes popping out from their socket.

She´s levitating as the undead continues. The Fog takes them- The fog is this creature and all she can understand in the bleak scenario was screams-so many screams. Women, men, and children alike- until the corpses were dust.

The souls are free.

The souls are erring.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Kitty is not sure where her feet, the wind, or even the fog is taking her. All she knows now is how she needs to survive one night to be able to live and never return. "I don´t want to see you ever again" she sniffs hating her own tears.

"Oh, why? The party is only begging" Kitty started as she feels a hand on her face cleaning her tears. Tasting said tears and looking at her. Two golden eyes gaze at her amused.

Words escape her mind/

"Why so quiet, Mein Frau...you´re so talkative before" the creature spoke softly.

Kitty steps back and runs away. The creature is too cruel for using that face...is the only reason, cruelty, and nothing more.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Kitty saw demons being torn apart by the creature. She knows his name. Chernobog. Yet, to her, this God is too alien to use his own name. Too cruel to deserve some politeness.

Kitty sees demons being made in the grotesques way possible. A mockery of birth. More blood is spit, more flesh is decayed and more souls beg for mercy.

Finally, the sun rises and with that, all the torture is put to stop. The sun is shining and Chernobog has to fulfill his deal. "Well, well. You did survive" he analyses. "Even if you cry a lot"

Kitty shakes her head as Chernobog is wearing an indigo face with golden eyes again. How cruel can he be? That´s the only explanation. The only...

"I´m a God of my word, Mein Frau, you´re free to go...hope we meet each other soon"

Kitty didn´t say anything as she used her key and leave that time. She still has the image of everything burned into her mind.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Kitty is back to her present. Having all the rocks needed for the ritual. Santa Claus thanks Kitty-the woman nods absently as her puffy red eyes are a given away of the level of this mission- then she stares at Kurt who has the same indigo fur and golden eyes.

"So...you´re Chernobog or is he or evil twin?"

"I´m Chernobog"

[halloweennut]

OC Backstory: Jitterbug

lmao ive been stressed lately so obviously i stress wrote 6 pages of drabble backstory. anyone here’s a look at my useless lesbian rottmnt oc, jitterbug, formerly known as a human named anais, becoming a mutant and ending up working for Big Mama. let’em rip

Oh fuck I forgot to mention but Marsha is @musekicker 's oc!

Anais shrugged on her coat with a huff, sharply pulling the tie at the waist tight. She was exhausted from the dance rehearsal and from the disappointment of another failed audition to move to the mainstage. She had been one of the background dancers for her company since she had signed on and it was starting to get boring. Scratch that, it became boring a year ago. But no matter what, the producers still hadn’t moved her up.

Before Anais could leave to make her way home to ice her feet and knees, she heard someone call out for her.

“Anais!”

She winced before turning around to face Stefan, one of the main dancers, abominable showboat, and annoyance to anyone in a skirt.

“Stefan,” Anais responded, forcing a grin and tugging her collar close together. “Is this going to take long? The L train won’t be running forever.”

“No no no,” Stefan said, stepping next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. She scowled at that, but fortunately he didn’t notice as he walked her toward the door. “I just want to talk about your audition.”

“Oh,” she deadpanned.

“Now, we all know you have the performing chops and the look to match,” he continued. “It’s just…”

Anais looked up at him as he trailed off. “Just what? If I’m so good then why haven’t I been moved yet?”

“You need to come out of your shell,” Stefan said, pulling her closer. “Come out of your cocoon, to speak.The producers think you’re holding back, and personally, I agree.”

“I am not in my own cocoon!” Anais snapped. Sure, maybe she lacked confidence at times, but she was not in a shell!

“I’m just stating my opinion and what the producers said,” Stefan continued, stopping them next to the door. “I’m willing to offer you some advice - perhaps over a cocktail?”

Anais scoffed, pushing him away. “No thank you. Now if you excuse me, I’m going home!”

And with that, she stormed out of the building and onto the street, quickly weaving through the crowd to her subway. Anais stewed with her thoughts, angry as she rode the train to mid-town for her transfer. Stepping back onto the street, she tried to think of every possible way to prove them wrong the next day and next audition, unaware of the odd green mosquito barreling towards her neck.

Before she realized what was going on, Anais felt a sharp pain in her neck that spread through her body. Gasping for air, she ducked into an alley, leaning against a wall and trying to force down the bile in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, slowly slipping down the wall as the pain concentrated in her head, sides and back. Anais heard the shred of clothing and what sounded and felt like bone popping - and then it stopped, and she was finally able to breathe again.

She opened her eyes, staring at the grimy ground below her hands. Everything seemed too bright, too vivid. She sat back on her feet, trying to get her bearings, and felt something brush the ground. Looking back, she saw a set of two filmy wings coming out of her shoulder blades, still wet and shining. Anais choked and scrambled for a puddle on the ground - anything to see herself in and see if what she saw was real.

But the her reflection did not lie, and only revealed more truth.

Anais barely recognized herself. Her skin was a pale teal-blue, eyes were larger now, taking up most of her face. Her nose was pointed and snubbed, looking almost proboscis like, and two antennae curled out of her head. The wings were flared behind her in surprise. Anais reached a hand to her face, another to the antennae - then she noticed the second set of arms and hands jutting from her sides.

Anais jolted from the puddle and to a garbage can, dry heaving in a panic.

“Oh god...what happened to me…,” she gasped. Anais stumbled back, unused to the weight of the wings. “I got to get home…”

She looked down at her new form and winced. Just getting back without gaining unnecessary attention. Thinking quickly, she tucked her new arms into her jacket, and pressed her wings the best she could to her back. Pushing her antennae down flush to her hair, Anais out her head down and booked it out of the alley and down to the stop for her train, barreling past people onto the train and hiding in a corner of the car until her stop. She flew out of the car and up onto the street as fast as her feet would go, and then into her building and up the steps, not resting until the door was shut behind her.

Anais breathed a sigh of relief, tossing her coat to floor. The relief didn’t last long - she couldn’t exactly go back to work or walk freely out in the city or her apartment building. Eventually she would be found out, and she couldn’t stay in her apartment forever. For one of the first times in her life, she was unsure of what to do. There was only real option - run and abandon her life as Anais. It was either that or...well, she didn’t know. Glancing around her apartment, she sighed with quiet determination. Anais quickly grabbed a small carry-on bag, filling it with her clothing, some jewelry and money and some other valuables. She threw on a long wool poncho that hid most of her new limbs and a hat that covered her face and antennae. Looking at her apartment one last time, she slipped out her window and onto the fire escape, and then into the back alleys of the city.

She didn’t stop moving until it was late and she had gotten uptown. From the look and smell of it, she was behind some sort of hotel restaurant. Clutching her stomach in hunger, she ducked behind a trash can, and watched the back door for someone to bring out scraps - she hated that this is how her life had become in a matter of hours. So much for not becoming a starving dancer on the street-

The door opened and someone walked out - but they weren’t human. Anais watched as a bright white bat walked out, stretching and cooling off from the busy kitchen she could spot just through the door. Anais couldn’t help but gasp - stopping herself with a set of hands a moment too late. The bat’s ears twitched and angled immediately toward her.

“Hey! Who’s there?” the bat demanded, starting to walk over. “This is private property you know!”

Anais winced and came out of her hiding spot. The bat stopped.

“A mutant. Let me guess, just turned?”

“Yes,” Anais said, rubbing an arm. “I’m sorry for trespassing - I just wanted to grab something from the...from the trash before moving on-”

“That’s disgusting,” the bat winced.

“I am very aware, but I can’t exactly walk into a bodega and ask for a ham,egg, and potato on a roll,” she replied, gesturing to herself. “You know, being a mutant with extra limbs and all.”

“Fair enough,” the bat shrugged. “Well come along, little bug. Can’t have anyone digging through the Hotel Nexus trash - boss would hate that.”

Anais nodded, grabbing her bag and turning back to head back where she came before the bat stopped her - “I said come along, meaning come with me. I hope the mutation didn’t affect your brain.”

“What.” Anais said. “You want me to come with you? Inside?”

“Yeah,” the bat said, opening the door wide. “Don’t be ridiculous and get in.”

Anais grinned and quickly entered before the bat could change her mind. “Oh thank you! I won’t stay long, I promise!”

The bat shrugged. “Doesn’t matter much to me. Just don’t like the idea of someone rooting through garbage for their next meal.”

“Still, thank you,” Anais trailed off, looking at the rest of the kitchen staff and the random waiter. They were all non-human! “Are you all mutants too?”

“Ha, no, most of us are yokai,” the bat nudged her over to a folding chair and pressed a bread roll into her hands. “Spirits. We’ve been living in New York longer than any human. I’m Marsha, by the way.”

Anais hummed, biting into the roll. “Thank you again, Marsha. I really appreciate it.”

Marsha nodded and returned back to her station. Anais watched the her and the kitchen work, running to and fro across the floor and into the main rooms of the hotel. She finished her bread roll, shedding her poncho and folding it on her lap. Her new arms were still taking time to adjust, at least she was used to the wings. But she felt out of place there in the kitchen, dance shoes and torn outfit sitting in the corner.

“Marsha,” Anais began, “do you know if the hotel is hiring? I’m not a cook but I have the spare hands to waitress.”

Marsha spared her a glance, giving her a better once over. “Unfortunately no spots are open here. The wings might be an issue running around a kitchen.”

“Then housekeeping?”

“House staff is all yokai - gets done in a snap.”

Anais lowered her head, antennae drooping.“Shit.”

“Well, what did you do before? You look like a dancer, or did you do some other weird human job?”

“I am a dancer, actually. Sing too,” Anais looked up, alert. “And I can’t go back to my company either - Is there an opening for something like that here?”

“More or less,” Marsha responded, chopping a bar of chocolate with quick, repetitive motion. “Big Mama - our boss - is looking for some sort of entertainment out in the bar between Nexus battles and in general.”

“I can do that! All four hands down!” Anais chirped, standing up and throwing her poncho behind her. “Where can I go see her?”

Marsha laughed. “You can try to. But don’t get your hopes up, sweets. She’s an...odd one, but she is fond of dancers.”

“So...I have a slight chance?”

“Slight. Go to a security guard, tell them Marsha sent you and you want to talk to Big Mama.”

Anais smiled wide, grabbing her things. “Thank you again! I owe you, Marsha!”

The bat nodded at the fly who weaved her way through the kitchen and out the double doors. A security guard was easy to find - tall, imposing and in a suit. A quick mention of the name and the request led her to an elevator. The porter hit one of the buttons at the very top, and up they went. Anais fidgeted, nervous, excited, and suddenly self conscious about the rips in the fabric around her arms. Once the doors opened, however she pushed it all down. The guard led her down an ornate hallway to an equally ornate door.

“Stay here,” was the only thing he said before slipping into the office. Anais stood there, trying to smooth out her hair and outfit as well as she could before dropping her bag and poncho on the floor behind a potted plant. The guard appeared a moment later, and opened the door for her, gesturing into the room. Anais thanked him and entered, pushing her nerves down once more as the door clicked shut. The room was a rich purple and gold, but dimly lit, save from the large window at the opposite end behind an elegant mahogany desk and tall, lilac chair.

“Come in, come in! Don’t (made-up word instead of linger) at the door, dearie!” the chair spun around to face her, revealing who Anais, while boggled at the random word, figured was Big Mama. “I’m told you’re looking for employment opportunities?”

“Oh- oh yes! I am,” Anais stepped closer until she stopped in front of the desk proper. Big Mama’s gaze made her feel not only like she was under examination but also very much more akin to a fly near a web. But she had dealt with that feeling most of her life, so coming from her it was nothing if not vaguely attractive. “Marsha down in the kitchen told me you were looking for someone to do entertainment at the bar, and well, I’m your girl for it.”

Big Mama stood, walking around the desk and looking Anais up and down. “I see.”

“I was - I’m a dancer, most types, and I’m not too bad at singing either,” Anais continued as Big Mama walked around her, heels clicking and eyes going over her. “And since I mutated today, I can’t exactly go back to my old company - not that I was going places there anyway.”

“Not a place for pretty little bugaboos now, was it?” Big Mama came to a stop in front of her, pressing a finger against her chin to raise Anais’s head. The fly shook her head. “My hotel, however, might just be a perfect fit for you.”

“You’re giving me the job?” Anais couldn’t believe her ears! Big Mama laughed, stepping back around the desk.

“For now - there will be just a teensy-weensy probation period, of course, to make sure you do perform to my expectations,” she said, pulling out what appeared to be a contract. “But you won’t let me down, will you?”

“No! Not at all,” Anais sat down on one of the chairs, taking the contract and a pen with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I’m here for your entertainment.”

Anais quickly lowered her eyes down to the paper to avoid her boss’s amused gaze - of course, her new boss had to be her type and of course she had to make a casual advance. As she went to sign it, she became aware that she couldn’t sign Anais anymore. Part of her remained, but...there was a part that screamed of being entirely new. With steely resolve, her new self was newly named with a flourish of the pen. Big Mame took it back, scanning it over.

“Welcome to the Grand Nexus Hotel, Jitterbug,” Big Mama held out an elegant hand to shake. Jitterbug smiled and took it, and so the fly began to work for the spider.

[the-desolated-quill]

The Daleks - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this serial yet, you may want to before reading this review)

When Doctor Who was first conceived back in 1963, it was originally intended to be an educational show. Stories set in the past would be used to teach kids about history and stories set in the future or on other worlds would be used to teach children about science. The one thing creator Sydney Newman specified was that there was to be no ‘bug eyed monsters.’ This stance soon changed when comedy writer Terry Nation pitched a script and producer Verity Lambert pushed for its inclusion in the show. At the time it had the working title of The Survivors. Today we know it as The Daleks. Doctor Who would never be the same again...

The TARDIS lands in the middle of a petrified jungle on an alien world. The trees have turned to stone, the soil is barren and there are no signs of life. The only trace of civilisation is a large metal city, which hides a great menace inside.

The Daleks is a seven part serial and its opening is probably one of the best in Doctor Who history. Terry Nation does an excellent job building up intrigue and suspense. The Doctor and Susan’s curiosity toward this alien planet coupled with Ian and Barbara’s shock and fear is extremely engaging.I love the look and feel of Skaro. It’s bleak, haunting, mysterious and truly nothing like our own world. Same goes for the metal city. The production design team clearly put a lot of effort into creating the architecture and technology of the Daleks, using them to give us a unique insight into their culture. It’s cold, oppressive and clinical, much like the Daleks themselves. The scene where Barbara is running through the corridors of the city as doors quietly slide shut behind her, trapping her inside, is legitimately terrifying. And then it all culminates in the first big reveal of the Daleks in the second episode. Truly one of the most iconic Who moments.

The overwhelming success of the Daleks comes down to three things. The first is obviously Raymond Cusick’s now iconic design. The way they silently glide across the room is eery and there is nothing warm or comforting about the machines. They’re designed for a specific purpose, to house and transport the Dalek creature inside, and that is all. Everything else is an irrelevance to them. The second is the voice. The Daleks were originally voiced by Peter Hawkins, using a ring modulator to give them their memorable, staccato voice and he does an amazing job. The way they coldly bark orders is really disconcerting, but it’s not just that. We often associate the Daleks with hatred, but that’s not what we see here in these early Dalek serials. What Hawkins does especially well is conveying an almost claustrophobic panic in the Daleks. As cold and as logical as they are, they always seem to be teetering on the brink of hysteria, which helps give a further insight into the Daleks’ personalities. They’re not in these machines by choice. They’re trapped in them and they hate it. The third is Terry Nation’s writing. As alien as the Daleks are, they come from a very real place and are inspired by legitimate fears Nation had growing up and I believe that is what allowed the Daleks to connect with so many people and endure for as long as they have.

Terry Nation grew up during World War II and developed a profound fear of the Nazis as well as atomic weapons like the kind that were used in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It’s these fears that Nation taps into with his script. The Daleks are his post-WWII nightmare made reality. Two races, the Dals and the Thals, fighting a global war for years that ultimately wiped out their entire planet. Of course it’s no secret that the Daleks were based on the Nazis, but it’s in this story where, in my opinion, the allegory is best handled and most effective. Watching The Daleks, it’s amazing how much is left to subtext. It’s not like in New Who where the Doctor or some other character has to sit everyone down like tiny children and explain everything. Through the different bits of lore as well as visual clues, we’re able to make the connections for ourselves. Just as the Nazis used the Jews as a convenient scapegoat for their own problems, the Daleks use the Thals. It would seem rather than being genetically engineered to hate, the Daleks prime motivation is jealousy toward the Thals and their development. The nuclear fallout of the neutron bomb that destroyed Skaro caused both the races to mutate, but whereas the Dals turned into the hideous, amoeboid Daleks, the Thals’ mutation came full circle. Now they’re beautiful, Aryan farmers who can move about freely and adapt their new surroundings. The Daleks cannot. They can’t move without their machines, they can’t survive without radiation and they can’t even move out of the confines of their city because the Dalek machines draw their power from the static electricity in the metallic floors. They’re completely trapped and so take their aggression and frustration out on the Thals.

By far the most telling example of this is when the Daleks test the Thals’ anti radiation drugs on themselves and discover they cannot survive without radiation, Underneath the menace and coldness of the Daleks is something tragic and slightly pathetic about them. Rather than find a way to adapt to the new environment, they instead try to bombard Skaro’s atmosphere with radiation and kill off the last Thals. As malicious and heartless as they are, there is also an element of childishness about them. It’s a spiteful “if I can’t have what I want, no one can” kind of attitude and turns the Daleks from being ranting pepper pots to three dimensional villains.

It’s not just the Daleks that get all the depth and complexity. The Thals too are explored really well, mostly through the character of Alydon, played by John Lee. Originally warriors, the Thals are now stark pacifists who shy away from all forms of conflict because they fear of what another war could do to the planet and their livelihood. See this is why I had such a bee in my bonnet about New Who’s insistence that pacifism is always good because Classic Who and this story in particular says the complete opposite. The Thals are nice people who want nothing more than to build bridges with the Daleks and help restore the planet, but the Daleks don’t want that. So what do they do? Live and let live isn’t an option here. As Ian says, “pacifism only works if everybody feels the same.” As I’ve said in previous reviews, no sane person wants to resort to violence, but sometimes in times of crisis or war there’s simply no other choice. If the Thals don’t stand and fight, they’ll be wiped out. Just like how if us Brits didn’t stand and fight, the Nazis would have just walked all over us in WWII. Sometimes violence is necessary and that’s precisely what the Thals have to contend with. 

Alydon, a stoic but compassionate man, has take on the burden of looking after his tribe when their leader is killed by the Daleks in a trap. John Lee does an excellent job conveying the character’s internal struggle. Which is better? To follow the teachings of his leader and die with honour or to break with tradition in order to survive? Could there be a risk of the Thals becoming just as bad as the Daleks if they choose aggressive tactics? Of course this is a false equivalency. With the rise of the alt-right in modern times, people incorrectly assume that those who take an aggressive stance against oppressors are just as bad as the oppressors themselves when in reality there’s a big difference between those who choose violence for self serving purposes and self aggrandisement and those who choose violence to protect themselves or others from dangerous acts. And it’s this that’s ultimately spelt out in the last episode. Yes the Thals resort to the same violent tactics as the Daleks, but there is no moral equivalence between the two due to their motivations. Both races desire survival, but the Daleks pursue violence for the sake of malice and spite whereas the Thals ultimately resorted to violence purely for self defence. If there had been another way, they would have took it, as Alydon expresses when the Daleks finally die, That’s what makes them better than the Daleks. They take no pleasure from the violence or the killing, but they know if they don’t fight, they will die.

Another Thal character I really liked was Ganatus, played by Phillip Bond. He’s much more anxious and out spoken than Alydon and when his more cowardly brother dies, he briefly loses all hope, but it’s his relationship with Barbara that pulls him through. Both share a brief flirtation over the course of the story and it’s fun to watch because we get to see both make a transformation. Barbara initially starts off incredibly fearful of this alien world, but grows more confident as the story goes along. The two essentially help each other throughout the narrative until by the end they’ve become better, more stronger versions of themselves. It’s good character development and definitely a highlight of the latter episodes of the serial for me.

I haven’t spoken much about the main cast, have I? Truth be told there isn’t much to say other than they were great. The story is much more about the Daleks and the Thals than about the Doctor and co, but there are still great moments with them. While the four are initially at odds when the Doctor tricks everyone into exploring the city by pretending the TARDIS’ fluid link was broken, we start to see them slowly come together as a unit for the first time. The scene where they work together to kill the Dalek in order to escape from their cell was a particular highlight for me because it allowed each character to work together and play a crucial part. Same goes for the two pronged attack with the Doctor, Susan and Alydon attacking the city from the front and Ian, Barbara and Ganatus sneaking in from the back. Ensemble casts rarely work in Doctor Who, in my opinion, but this is a great example of each character having a significant part to play and receiving crucial development.

Any weak links? Well... the cheapness of the sets can be a bit off-putting. Clearly the BBC only had the budget for three Daleks because there are scenes where there is supposed to be lots of them and they had to make do with cardboard cutouts propped up awkwardly against the wall. Also they do attempt to make the corridors of the city look longer than they actually are by putting up painted backdrops that don’t look very convincing. And if I’m being honest, I thought the episodes with Ian, Barbara and Ganatus and everyone mountain climbing to the Dalek city was a bit pointless. Well written for the most part, don’t get me wrong, but it did feel like the plot had screeched to a halt.

The Daleks is easily one of the best stories in all of Doctor Who, serving as a brilliant sci-fi parable and a cautionary tale about the dangers of right wing extremism and unchecked nuclear armament. The simple fact of the matter is Doctor Who wouldn’t be where it is today without this story. Viewing figures doubled over the course of the story and public and critical response was overwhelmingly positive. The British public loved the Daleks and there was already talks of a sequel not long after. The BBC had a smash hit on their hands and it was all thanks to a ‘bug eyed monster.’ If you haven’t already, you should definitely check this one out. It’s a classic for a reason :D

[amonoff]

Lloyd’s Element of Life (Reference)

A reference I made for possible powers TLNM Lloyd since I wanted it to be different from his show counterpart. I’m trying to figure out if these are okay or how these can expand the TLNM world or be used together. If you guys have some suggestions, let me know! 

The element of life was actually passed down from his grandmother, hence how Wu was knowledgeable about it. A form of this power actually passed down to both Garmadon and Wu* (See Plentiful Life Force). Lloyd actually unlocked his ability when he was young. His fish was old and dying, and not wanting that to happen, unknowingly discovers his true potential and renews it with life, essentially extending its lifespan.

Empathy (Inspired by calypsolemon)

The ability to feel what other’s feel on an emotional and physical level (). This ability came forward after he discovered his true potential in the form of Lloyd feeling the fear, anger, and resentment of the people around him, as well as his mother and uncle’s love. He began avoiding public areas as it overwhelmed him. He eventually learned to block it out on his own but not completely.

He also has the ability to channel his feeling over to others, allowing them to feel what he feels (). This takes some effort to apply. Unfortunately, if he applies it too much, it will overwrite the other person’s emotion () (). Luckily Lloyd has never been (accidentally) pushed this far by anyone. Lloyd actually continued to develop this power, initially mistaking it as typical…’sharing his feelings’ to others and them just understanding. This typically happens unknowingly when he opens up to his friends about something and his emotions pour out with a little less control.

As time progressed, he developed ecological empathy, gaining the ability ‘feel’ the overall conditions of plants, animals (to a degree), and his entire environment (). As a result, Lloyd can actually feel any ecological disturbances or changes, such as the mass plant death during winter and animal movement before migration. If he focuses hard, he can even feel disturbances in nature, such as changes in the soil or air that might indicate pollution or a coming natural disaster. Severe pollution or damage to the environment may weaken him.

Life Force Generation

Lloyd can generate life force that can boost his physical capabilities. He can create solid objects from his life force like swords or spears and control it even from afar, allowing him to wield them almost telepathically. Again, this cuts his lifespan and requires concentration. The more he creates, the more he needs to concentrates and the more it strains on him, giving him less time to wield them.

Ex:

-Single Sword - Easy. Maybe can last for half an hour or more

-10 Swords - Hard and taxing. Can keep up for a few minutes before tiring

Life Force Manipulation

Lloyd has the ability control his own life force and can freely share it with others, allowing him to heal or offer status buffs or skills to allies. He can’t control anyone else’s life forces, however. Just his own.

To put into an analogy, Lloyd’s life force is basically the O- of life forces. He can give and share it to anyone freely but cannot accept any because it’s all incompatible with his. Doing so would mess his psyche. Lloyd can feel other people’s life forces, which allows the Empathy skill mentioned before, but that’s it.

There is one loophole around this. Because the essences of all elemental powers originated from the First Spinjitzu Master, and Lloyd is his descendant,, those essences are compatible with him. This means he can absorb any elemental power for himself, somewhat like Amber except it’s outright stealing the power. He can keep it and (4+ become the Golden Ninja), return it to the owner, or give it to someone else. If he keeps it for himself, he will pay a price (see Golden Ninja).

Plentiful Life Force

Lloyd has an unusually large amount of life force compared to a normal LEGO, and is the reason why both Garmadon and Wu lived for as long as they have. Their mother-Lloyd’s grandmother-actually lived for several hundred years herself before meeting their father. While it does typically wane like everyone else, the rate vary per person. Looking at Garmadon, it’s clear he either has more life force or a slower waning rate compared to Wu.* (This may also indicate that Garmadon likely has centuries to go before he gets to Wu’s old state. He’ll definitely outlive Wu, Misako, and most of the Ninjas sans Zane Possibly even Lloyd, depending on how he comes along.)

In any case, it’s certain that since Lloyd inherited this, he will outlive all his loved ones except Zane.

Healing

Lloyd has the ability to share his life force with others to heal them, extend their life spans, or resurrect them. However, this comes at the cost of cutting his own lifespan. As long as Lloyd has time to recover, it’s not a problem. If not, his life force will be exhausted to the point of fatality.

The smaller the living thing, the easier it is for him to share his life force with. The bigger it is, the more life force and effort is required.

For resurrection, the same also applies but all specific requirements must be met:

-At least the head and torso piece have to be attached. If the death was by decapitation, the head piece can be put back on.

-The ‘body’ has to be recent. Lloyd cannot resurrect anyone who becomes a ghost.

-There can’t be something ‘inside’ the ‘body.’ Like if the ‘body’ has been impaled, it must be removed.

Since resurrection takes far more life force compared to healing, Lloyd can only do this a few times before it kills him. Another form of ‘healing’ Lloyd can do is share his life force with others share with them his regenerative capability, allowing them to heal bit by bit over time even if they’re separated from him. (Like Spring of Life P3)

Inducement

Lloyd can grant 2 types of inducements, sometimes at once:

Life Inducement

Lloyd’s ability to give something life is reliant on the object’s body density. This is because for something to be alive, it has to be able circulate and generate life force for itself. life force wouldn’t be able to circulate within very large or solid objects easily. Carving runes on the object to assist with circulation makes it easier, but even then, it’s not guaranteed to work all the time. Rounder objects and anything as long as it’s not flat, works better for circulation

With the limits, Lloyd can only induce life to:

-Things that’re light or at least maybe a little more heavy than a human LEGO (Ex. Trees, animals)

-Small, solid objects (Ex. Small statues or dolls)

-Few bigger, rounder objects carved with runes. (Ex. Boulders)

A key note everyone learns later is that inducing life doesn’t take as much life force as healing.

Life force is an intangible force. Using it to repair something tangible like plastic (or in the LEGO world, flesh and tissue) will require a lot more life force. However, just to induce life to something, Lloyd just has to give enough life force to circulate within any object for a few of days, during which, it will start generating its own life force. Even the bigger objects only shave off a week at most.

Sentience Inducement

Lloyd can grant sentience to already living thing as long as it’s not already sentient. The sentience he grants, though, is only close to an animalistic or (at maximun) child-intelligence level. While the sentient being he makes can feel and think (to an extent), they’re often only smart enough to keep themselves alive. Most can’t coordinate themselves, form strategies, or even process orders that require multiple steps even it may be easy.

For example, ordering them to go over a spot and attack every person they see is easy since all they have to move there and fight. Ask them to make tea, they’ll have trouble because they don’t know what tea is, how to fill a pot and heat water, and pour it into a cup on their own. They can do task if ordered each step separately, however.

Also, anything induced with sentience by a Master of Life is ingrained with an instinct to prioritize, be loyal to, and protect the master no matter what. So even if they’re abusive to them or the orders are morally wrong, they will follow the master anyway like mindless drones.

Note°

There is a chance if Lloyd is killed, everyone he either gave life/sentience to, and possibly resurrected, will also die as it’s his force keeping them alive. Neither Wu or Garmadon know as their mother never used it while they were around. Every living thing she had made prior to that were already dead due to varying circumstances.

Mutation

For some reason, the most things induced with sentience or life sometimes mutates to become stronger to help serve the elemental master better. A mutation of many is growing a green eye, which becomes a symbol for them. Apart from that, the mutations all vary to being able to move, fly, extend limbs, shoot bodily innards, etc.,.

Double-Edged Sword

On top of the power’s main drawback of shortening life spans, the element of Life is highly sought after by many for the obvious: being able to extend lives, creating armies from literal junk, and resurrection. This is amplified with legends that killing someone with such a power in a ritual, and then absorbing their essence, would grant immortality.

As a result, many elemental masters of Life end up being hunted down, typically by evil entities. That’s not to say countries and individuals don’t go after them too. Since most elemental masters respond by either creating their own armies to drive pursuers away or going into hiding, someone close who can get past the defenses and meet them usually ends up being the one to kill or capture them. I.e., betrayal is a norm. This also why there’re more old Elemental Master of Life compared to any other. Because they keep getting murdered (or committed suicide).

Wu’s mother had actually been chased out of Ninjago when a powerful lord went after her for immortality. She hid with their father who made it so that no one could get near the place (hence why the temple and everything surrounding it is so deadly).

Golden Ninja

As the reincarnated First Spinjitzu Master, all the essences of power of each elemental master are technically his life force. As a result, Lloyd can absorb these essences back to himself and if he takes more than 4, he can become the Golden Ninja. Unfortunately, taking on such power destroys the physical body. It’s too much to handle and as result, while the power is devastating, can only be used for few minutes or until whenever the Ninja expires. If there were any Golden Ninjas of past, the longest record holder was 15 minutes before dying.

So does this means Lloyd can absorb up to 3 and be fine? Yes and no. It won’t destroy his body but it will feel like… Like how your legs feels after you stand for 8 hours on concrete in flat shoes or played soccer without stretching except on your entire body. Times 4 maybe.

[robboyblunder]

Inevitably, I have made my own sangheili OC named Jor ‘Zoraar 

He’s the result of me being tired of how bland and plain sangheili are outside their armor because jesus they have like absolutely 0 variation when they’re not armored. give me sangheili with feathers, scales, different colors, and shapes!! stop making them boring brown copies of each other with no unique attributes!! humans are diverse and unique why can’t aliens be huh?? especially REPTILIAN ones.

anyways I put his story and more info about him under the readmore if anyone is curious! and before anyone asks I gave him an altered version if the white honor guard variant armor but with the helmet the red ones have because I like it

(please don’t repost or use w/o permission, and leave my description; thanks!)

Jor is a unique sangheili with rare mutations that are past genetics from early sangheili ancestors, including a purple hue and feather-like sensitive scales that detect the slightest changes that are able to be freely flexed and moved like individual limbs. on top of the shiny opalescent scales making him appealing to other sangheili, he is also 8′ 6″ and thicker than average sangheili making him very sturdy and durable and an excellent fighter and leader within his clan.

Jor however, despite having been on the honor guard and having won many battles and achieving high honor, is dissatisfied with his life and sangheili ways breaking many rules. Now a part of the swords of sanghelios, he visits his own offspring, refuses to leave anyone behind (even grunts), and has a large distaste for excessive violence, cruelty,  and killing despite having to do so for his job and species. To combat this he has a double life working secretly as a lifeworker much like forerunners before him had, sneaking away to visit areas he has been working to restore species and ecosystems quite often in worlds they ravaged. He adores all kinds of life and values even the smallest forms and wishes to dedicate himself to it, but hides it out of fear of ex-communication from his own kind.

he wishes to someday influence his species to adopt a more versatile culture allowing for variations from the warrior/death cycle they live in, as fostering his gardens has been incredibly fulfilling to him and makes him feel more in tune with life around him.

[alyce0013]

One Last Moment

**Warning: this piece contains triggering content that may triggering for some readers. Continue reading with caution** Hyungwon sat in a chair outside a quarantine area, head hung low. He stared at the dull color of the hospital floor, watching the sunlight reflect off of it, and waiting patiently. Too many things ran through his mind as he clutched at the unopened envelope in his hands. This had all started a few years ago. It was a mutation, giving birth to the panic and frenzy of present day. The mutation started off slowly, hiding in plain sight. It spread through a touch. It infected the first woman, killing her a week and a half later. The doctor blamed it on pregnancy complications and didn't look much further into it. Unfortunately, before her untimely death that woman had touched someone, who touched someone else, who touched someone else, and so on and so forth. It only affected and killed pregnant women and children ten and younger, everyone else infected was just a carrier. So far there was no cure. "Sir?" A nurse in cute, childish scrubs waved him over. He looked up through the window, avoiding eye contact, to see ten crows sitting in a tree. "How long do I have?" He asked, following her into the visitation area. "As long as you'd like. We try not to impose time restrictions." She answered, sitting him down in a chair on one side of a solid wall of plexiglass. "Thank you." Hyungwon felt close to tears, but he swallowed them down. He was afraid if he let himself cry now, he wouldn't be able to stop. He didn't want the last time to entirely be a sad memory. A loud squeal of delight shocked Hyungwon out of his thoughts as he his head and eyes snapped up to meet his son's. A large smile spread across his face as he masked the sharp pain that went through his heart. He needed to be brave. "Daddy! I miss you so much!" His son yelled in excitement, doing a childish, happy dance. He ran right past the chair they set out for him, straight for the plexiglass and plopped down on the floor. "I miss you too, Alex. So very much." Hyungwon abandoned the chair and instead was sitting on the floor as close to the plexiglass as possible. Alex put a small hand against the barrier between them and Hyungwon fondly put his hand exactly opposite his son's. He swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing down all other thoughts about the real world outside this room. He wanted this moment to never end. "My hands are almost as big as yours." Alex proclaimed proudly. He adjusted his hand to size it from his father's palm at first and then the tips of his fingers. Hyungwon genuinely smiled at how adorable it was to see how determined Alex was to get their hands to match. "Almost, precious. How's everything going in there? Are they being nice to you?" Hyungwon asked sweetly, trying hard to keep a level, curious tone. He wanted to make sure Alex was happy and treated well without scaring him too much. "Its amazing! I even made a friend. Her name is Sarah. She's really fun to play with. We share toys a lot. Everyone has been so nice and they let me color whenever I want." Alex continued to explain how his stay in the quarantine area was going as Hyungwon only clutched harder at the envelope in his hand. He didn't know how he was going to do this and the longer he stayed as close as he could ever get to his son again, the harder it was going to be. They sat on either side of the plexiglass barrier, hands never leaving their spot from earlier as if they were holding hands through the plexiglass. Hyungwon talked about what was going on with him in terms that a five year old could comprehend, and listened intently when Alex had a question or cute advice. Time passed quickly and Hyungwon glanced out the window at a dark sky. A shot of panic went through his heart, it started to beat so fast it felt like it would burst out of his chest. He didn't want this to end so quickly. He wanted reach through the plexiglass to pull Alex into his arms, hold him, and never let him go. "Daddy? Are you coming in here with me? I miss you! It's fun. I promise." Alex's words and earnest face made Hyungwon's heart start to crack and tears start in the corners of his eyes. He wiped them away quickly, hoping Alex didn't see them. "I can't, precious." Hyungwon choked out shakily. The time had come way to quickly. He wasn't ready for this, but he knew he would never honestly be ready. "Why? It really is nice in here. All the people are so nice. I promise. " Alex whined, pouting so heartbreakingly cute. "I believe you. I do. I would give anything be in there with you, precious boy." Hyungwon tried so hard not to let Alex's sad face effect him. His only child was being ripped out of his life and it felt like he was being torn to shreds in the process. He had prayed, begged, pleaded with every God or deity he could think of to be able to shower Alex with all the love and adoration humanly possible, but here he was still forced to break both their hearts. "Why can't you?" Alex's simple question and newly forming tears falling down his face finally crushed the last bit of Hyungwon's resolve. "I'm infected." Hyungwon confessed as his own tears started to freely fall. "I love you so much Alexander...so, so much." He clung to the plexiglass as Alex backed away from it slightly, dropping his hand from his father's. "I don't care! I miss you!" Alex started throwing a small tantrum. "Daddy, please!" "Im so sorry my precious boy. I'm so, so sorry." Hyungwon had broken down completely in tears, his apologetic works only audible between muffled sobs. "Daddy! Please! I'll be good! I promise!" Alex stomped his feet and cried. Hyungwon's heart shattered completely knowing how trapped he was. It was destroying him to know his precious little boy would grow up without him. He clung to the plexiglass watching the temper tantrum he could do absolutely nothing to soothe him. He would never be able to soothe a temper tantrum ever again. He would never be able to wipe his tears, or kiss his forehead to take a temperature, or see Alex's adorable smile that reminded him of his mother's. "Please be good. Be good and live a long, happy life. I'm so sorry, precious, but you can't have that life with me. I'm so sorry. I love you, Alex. Always remember that! Please! always remember that! I love you!" Hyungwon's words got more frantic as he noticed a nurse entering the room behind Alex to take him away. He tried to burn every detail of his precious little boy into his mind, knowing this would be the last time he would see him. "No! Please, daddy! Please stay with me! Please!" Alex screamed as he noticed the nurse. He ran back to the plexiglass, pressing his entire body against it as he begged. Hyungwon sobbed harder watching, pulling his hands away. He wrapped his arms around himself as he watched his son struggle to escape from the nurse to get back to him. Alex kicked, screamed, and pleaded for his father's presence as he disappeared. Hyungwon collapsed, laying on the floor defeated and destroyed as tears fell freely down his face. No one disturbed him, except to drape a blanket over him, even after he cried himself to sleep on the cold, hard hospital floor. Hyungwon woke up when the morning light glared through from the window. He felt completely empty and hollowed out, the dried tears on his face now crusted to his cheeks. He sat up slowly, looking at the now dark and empty room beyond the plexiglass. The room that had ripped his heart and soul out of him forever. He picked himself up off the ground, grabbing the envelope that had slipped out of his hand while he slept as he stood. Hyungwon walked out, ignoring everyone and everything on his way to his car. He threw himself into the drivers seat and finally opened the envelope taking out the crumpled check inside. It was compensation, but no amount of money could ever replace the feeling of holding Alex in his arms or being able to see his sweet boy grow into a strong man. Hyungwon threw the check onto his passenger seat in anger, staring out his windshield to watch as ten crows that had been following him around flew off into the distance.

[olaluwe]

I may not know what your faith is - Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism, name it; but one thing I know for sure is that 'redeeming the time' is one thing that's common or applicable to all. 

It has always been and will always be. It's, therefore, a topic worthy of listening to or reading about, even of your own free will.

Let me, however, concede to the fact that this post would rely more on materials freely drawn from the bible.

It wasn't an idea borne out of the logic of the superiority of the faith but because it's one with which I'm conversant to an appreciable degree as a Christian and growing; and of which I've been stunned, lately, by a revelation that I'm a messenger by the will of God almighty through his only begotten son Christ Jesus.

Knowing this; I’m most humbled and seeking in all sincerity and truth for the best ways to fit into doing his will which he has set before all whom he had called as partakers and ambassadors of his riches in glory.

So, I crave your understanding as you come along. My prayer and hope is that you're richly blessed reading it. 

Now before we proceed, let me quickly attempt defining the two ideas or concepts encapsulated in the post title namely 'redeem and time' for nothing is more dangerous than assumption.

What is time?

Time is the passage, circle or sequence of seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years in the life of everyone and everything. Since it is a circle or sequence, it has a starting and also a closing point. It's finite, at least, to everything and every work under the sun.

What does it mean to redeem?

To redeem is to buy back or recover something or someone that has been pawned, lost, or endangered. It also means to accomplish a set goal, desire, dream, glory, and destiny. 

As living souls, we live to accomplish our earthy purposes in space and time.

And you may never know the true significance of redeeming the time until you have lost or crave for something - a car, a house, a wife, a husband, a child(ren), a job, name it; but can't have it even when your soul yearns for it the most. 

Of essence, therefore, time is central to everything we do or become as human beings. So much so that the bible says 'to every purpose and everything under heaven there is time and season.'  Ecclesiastes 3: 1.

There is a time to be born, and a time to die; and a time to plant and a time to pluck what’s planted. The list goes on and on and on. . .

On top of that, it is frighteningly short and quick; however, we look at it because it always catches up with us in all that we do.

In this present age, the maximum of a long life is roughly a hundred years and it's so full of troubles. Even at that, it would surprise you how it is quickly lived or fast spent. 

Of course, there is a lot that we can achieve within the allocated period. It’s no gainsaying that these things must be accomplished with a measure of godly violence too. They must be redeemed, I mean to say.

After all, the Bible also says "that from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence and only the violent take it by force." John 11:12.

To corroborate the position of the bible, I remember as a teenager the popular saying among my hustling brothers and uncles then that "the way of the mouth is the way of heaven.

This in a literal sense means what to eat and drink take preeminence over other existential matters. That goes to show how they prioritize their work over lazying about. That's, of course, redeeming the time as far as surviving is concerned for them. 

The same mentality, if not more is required when it comes to what we're here to accomplish. There's a popular saying that 'may we not let what we're going to eat take preeminence over the glory we're here to fulfill; the destiny we’re here to accomplish’.

From the foregoing, we all can see clearly how time can be redeemed through a combination of factors. 

But how can you and I redeem the time, if its nature or attributes if you like, and to all what it serves as an agency we know very little about.

Having said that, I think it's only sensible I devout the next paragraph to listing out what I personally consider as the characteristics of time as it were.

In no particular order of importance, the following are some of the characteristics of time or the agency work it does.

(1) Time is glory (2) Time is destiny (3) Time is money (4) Time is success (5) Time is failure (6) Time is family 7. Time is knowledge and its applications thereby mutating into wisdom (8) Time is birth (9) Time is death (10) Time is salvation (11) Time is peace and safety (12) Time is relationships (13) Time is friendships (14) Time is work or labor (15) Time is rest (16) Time is reward (17) Time is reconciliation (18) Time is war (19) Time is fashion (20) Time is taste (21) Time is love (22) Time is hatred

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 expanded.

You can see that it's almost all-encompassing and hardly is there any aspect of life not covered. But then, if you can think of more, you're highly welcome to specify them in the comments section. 

But rather than go the whole hog with the details of how time functions in relation to each of its  attributes above, I'd concern myself first with redeeming the time as it relates to accomplishing your  purpose and my purpose under the sun.

And secondly, as time functions regard the salvation of your soul and my soul that was purchased by our Lord Jesus Christ at a great price.

Why must time be redeemed?

Time must be redeemed because like I said earlier it's short as apportioned unto each and every one. It's on a quickening pace such that it is hardly sufficient to get all that we desire done. 

Secondly, time must be redeemed importantly because the days are evil.

The days of a glorious earthly man are evil because desperately arrayed against him are stronger humans by position, connection, wealth, riches and glory; power and principalities, attitudes, beliefs, name it.

Why are these ones arrayed against him?

It a mystery that I think, among others, finds expression in the often-quoted line: The test of fire makes the finest steel.

Those things arrayed against you are the proverbial tests of the fire which you must pass to claim your glory even if you're the anointed of God.

To illustrate the picture I'm trying to paint above, I'll cite two bible stories of King David and Joseph and how they redeemed the time concerning fulfilling their glorious destiny. Some of us who’re Christians are already familiar with them.

True, David was anointed a king over the nation of Israel at a tender age after God zero his mind on taking the kingdom away from King Saul and his lineage. 1 Samuel 16:12-13

But he was not going to ascend to the throne immediately because his hour has not yet come.

Not only that, the way must be cleared which isn't going to happen in one day. He must also be seen to be capably deserving of the huge responsibility that's about to be entrusted into his charge. 

Echoing in advance what would later be played out with our Lord Jesus Christ at the wedding in Cana of Galilee when his mother approached him with the report of exhausted wine by reproving his mother 'woman, what is this your concern have to do with me. My hour has not yet come.' John 2:4.

Continuing the story above, a deadly game of throne simply ensued between a young David and the incumbent King Saul. To cut the long story short, repeated attempts were made on David's life by the out-of-favor king Saul.

But he was able to survive the king's murderous onslaught, let me emphasize, not by wishful thinking. He followed some specifics. 

At the same time, David had the opportunity to take the king's life because he played into his hands during his blind pursuits but he didn't, recognizing him still as the anointed one of God to whom no harm should come. 

The next is Joseph. Joseph dreamt dreams detailing his glorious future. But the same God hide from him the trials that lay ahead to redeeming it possibly because he knew he had what it requires to pull through.

But again he could have failed if he didn't take the ownership of the Godly revelation concerning him.

So he went from being sold into slavery by his siblings to being tempted by the Potiphar’s wife and being sent to jail. 

These are real life's stages upon which he must act his parts well to redeeming the time apportioned to him.

And he puts his soul in the role to emerge one of the most beloved bible characters to all through the ages.

Do not make the mistake of thinking the time was all theirs for the taking, after all, there's a revelation to that effect and more so because it comes with an anointing. 

For there are examples even in the same bible of people who had the revelation got what was promised but in the end, lost it because they couldn't keep their sanity. 

What did David and Joseph do to redeem their glorious destiny?

Or put differently, how can you and I redeem the time in practical terms?

1. Put God first

God is the source of all the purpose, glory, and destiny under the sun. And so his authority must be recognized at all times. Abiding by his plans is far beneficial than following the dictates of our limited mind. John 3:27. Putting God first entails worship, praying, thanksgiving, supplications, and work.

2. Be circumspect

There is a need for us to act with what I call 'divine caution' in the matters of fulfilling our purposes in the land of the living. Ephesians 5: 15-16.

3. Always act wisely

Wisdom is the principal thing. And the bible admonishes us that in all we do we should seek it. And wisdom is nothing but the practical application of knowledge.  Knowledge, on the other hand, is a collection of facts about things in heaven, on earth and beneath it. Ephesians 5: 15-16

4. Show self-restraints

There's a perpetual need for us to act with self-control and not to put our glory and destiny on the line for a few seconds of earthly pleasure. Pleasure divinely ordained and programmed for an appointed time is far better.

What Joseph courageously avoided from the Potiphar’s wife would've been seen by someone lacking in self-restraints as an opportunity that must not be allowed to slide. But the end would've been disastrous. 

5. Focus

Being focus entails not losing the sight of the prize or goal for which you and I have been called to fight. We must learn to press towards it and not allow ourselves to get distracted by diversionary and temporary things of this world. Philippians 3: 13-14.

6. Perseverance

Perseverance is staying the course come what may. When your goal and glory and destiny have to been declared by God who owns the earth and its fullness thereof, of necessity, it is that you endure the path he's taking you. The bible says it is not given unto you and I to direct our steps.  

7. Be obedient

Obedience, the bible says, is better than sacrifices and fat of rams. 1 Sam 15: 22-23. No doubt, you can make sacrifices to God in praises, thanksgiving, supplications, and doing good to the people. But they would amount to nothing if you neglect the obedient part.

8. Keep faith

Faith, the bible says is the evidence of something not seen; substance of something hoped for. When God declares anything concerning you, he keeps faith to see that it is accomplished in his own time.

And so of necessity, you and I must keep the faith because God honors his words more than his name. 

9. Movement

It has been observed that movement is key to achieving any goal in life. As a marathoner, you don't stop until you reach the finish line.

Life also has been compared to running a marathon. Because you have to keep moving, it requires endurance. It requires maturity. It requires dedication. Besides, until you move not moves in your life.

10. Humility

Pride the bible says comes before a fall. The haughty God says he would humble.  So it is better to stay on the side of God by being humble.  Humility brings divine wisdom and understanding which are needed to safely navigating the dark alley of the labyrinth called life whose every second, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years are evil.

Finally, as regards so great a salvation of your soul and mine for which our Lord Jesus Christ has purchased at a great price of his precious blood which was shed on the cross, it's now and not tomorrow for a second delay may prove costly. 

The door of the ongoing grace opened to you and I when he showed up two millennia ago may just be shut if we remain hesitant in deciding and, if peradventure death comes suddenly. For the bible says it's appointed unto man to die once and afterward judgment follows. 

Today's chance for the salvation of your soul is a rare opportunity. It's more precious than gold, silver, and the riches and glories of this world.

Arise, make haste to redeem it. The time is fast counting down. Take your chance now! Receive him as your Lord and personal savior. Shalom!

[orpheusterminals]

“A story my father told me: The Orpheus Terminals The ultimate goal of The Orpheus Terminal is the programming of imagery for living cybernetic computer terminals, culled from cloned materials from my brain, which will be placed across the earth, connecting various leylines with Quetzalcabbalahic diagrams of my own design. These terminals will be freely accessed by whoever wishes to use them at any point in time across the universe. The first images anyone will see will be these images of my visual understanding of the universe. The terminals will basically be given one directive: to help humanity live more meaningful lives, to help them to be Heroes, not Slaves. The Knights Templar was an order of warrior priests that were active during the Middle Ages. After the Crusades, they were killed off by the States and Churches of Europe as heretics. This is believed to have happened because the Knights had gained a great deal of economic power. However, a number of myths and legends have developed around the Knights that are quite interesting. One of the charges against them was that they received their orders from a large disembodied head. The Knights also called themselves The Order of the Golden Fleece, making a direct connection between themselves and the Argonauts of Ancient Greece. Why is this of interest? The Knights were purported to have access to or be in possession of the Holy Grail (an artifact that can heal the sick/ raise the dead). Although it is commonly believed to be a chalice of some sort, the Grail has been depicted in all manner of forms and it is unknown what its true shape might be. The Golden Fleece is also a mythic artifact that could heal the sick. What if these two devices are one and the same? The Golden Fleece was supposed to be the hide of a magical flying ram that was sent to earth by Hermes to do the will of the gods. After its work was done, the ram was sacrificed to Zeus, but its skin was preserved and it was believed to heal the sick and return the dead to life. Orpheus was one of the Argonauts. He was decapitated by a group of feral women, but his head was said to remain alive to this day. Was it his head that dispatched orders to the Knights Templar thousands of years later? The Holy Grail, also called the Sangrail (blood stone), the Lucifer stone, and the Golden Fleece, could actually be myths that have a shared root with an ancient power source of extraterrestrial origin. The Golden Fleece and the Holy Grail could actually be mere containment vessels for this unknown element, which I call Element X, or Grailium. What if the Argonauts were an actual group of plundering adventurers that were exposed to this power source bestowing on them a number of beneficial mutations? Perhaps Orpheus was able to maintain some sort of animation after his body had been destroyed. His brain perhaps became able to produce a Grailium-rich enzyme. Imagine an element that’s properties allow the human imagination to manifest itself in the physical world. This element could have come to earth in the far-flung past, before humanity was human in the very metros that crashed into the earth and caused catastrophic destruction of the environment, leading to the extinction of the dinosaurs. There could have been an element that infused itself into the earth biosphere. The dinosaurs were killed off by the radiation because their brains were unable to adapt to the element’s energy, but the mammals could. This beneficial radiation allowed mammals to become the masters of the earth, and is the very reason for the Human condition. Perhaps there was another smaller re-introduction of this element later, which caused Neanderthals to transmute into Homo sapiens. It is my belief that Grailium fosters a viable network with the collective human imagination. It causes all our hopes and dreams to come to life. Grailium could be the explanation for all unexplained phenomena on earth. When an individual is exposed to it in a high degree it could cause a quantum evolutionary leap to occur. Imagine if we were able to synthesize Grailium in a laboratory, expose it to cloned human brain cells, and use it to create living super-computer brains: The Orpheus Terminals. It is my belief that these devices would allow humanity to finally unravel the mysteries of life on this earth and beyond. The use and development of Grailium in technology would usher in the next step in Human Evolution. Humanity would once again have a working system of oracles. If we follow the Hermetic premise that God only exists within the human mind, this project would allow true communion to occur. At last some sort of dialogue with the higher consciousness would be possible, the word of God would be our own voice. To attain immortality for myself and hopefully all of humanity, I will have myself cryogenically frozen at the moment of my physical death in a Grailium Crystal Thought Pod, placed into a small solar, atomic, and/or Grailium powered rocket ship, and launched into deepest outer space. The ship, Bellerophon 1, will be equipped with a computer that will have vast archives on human culture and history as well as the history of earth and our solar system, plus as much personal information about myself as possible. There will be digital images of all of my artworks, writings, personal photographs, and belongings. The rocket will have detailed instructions written in a number of codes both numeric and languages, stating who I am, where I come from, and the fact that I would like whomever finds me to use their superior alien technology to restore me to life. To assist my alien benefactors, there will also be a great deal of human anatomy and media information within the ships computer. There are two schools of thought as to the possible nature of extraterrestrial life. Some people think that we should not be actively seeking out otherworldly life. They think that any race able to travel through the vast reaches of the cosmic void would be so powerful that they would view us as inferior and would not have a problem wiping humanity out of existence. The other group, which I am a part of, believes that any race to conquer the stars would need to have conquered their own barbaric natures to do so and could only be benevolent. Look at ourselves: the tiny baby steps that we have made into space have only come from positive benevolent efforts, actions for all humankind. Only by transcending our baser selves will we ever reach the stars. Due to the incredibly vast distances of space, humanity may have to toil for eons in order to reach other inhabitable planets, but if I am sent out into space as I have described, perhaps this toil can be cut short. Once my alien benefactors have revived me, I will act as a delegate for humanity, learning all I can, and beginning a relationship that will usher in a golden age on Earth. Using the aliens’ unimaginable transportation technology, I will return to some distant future earth where I can shake hands with my great great great great great great grandchildren and help all humanity fulfill their dreams. We will become immortal, pan-dimensional, ethical super geniuses that will stand upon an equal ground with the gods of the universe. Every person will shine like a star in the heavens. When what appears to be the final barriers of the universe are before this future human, they will boldly cross it, and go onto what can never be conceived of, but will be experienced.” ​– Iason Ragnar Bellerophon