#Tower on the Embankment

[haxanbroker]

Albert Embankment, London, July 2024.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Hadrian's Wall

Hadrian's Wall is an impressive masterpiece of military engineering built along steep ups and downs that cross space and history between England and Scotland.

The old wall, sculpted for almost 2000 years by wind and rain, climbs over hills, immerses itself in a moor to suddenly resurface among the blades of light of a wood, a karst presence that seems to absorb the energy of landscape to challenge its gravity and logic in a rollercoaster of harsh ups and downs that cross space and history.

Hadrian's Wall is no longer England but it is not yet Scotland, even if the land to the north seems wilder.

But perhaps it is just a state of mind of those who look at it, subtly altered by the emotion of treading the same stones on which the Roman legionaries walked.

In reality, unlike what many believe, the Wall is within English territory, even if it has helped define the borders of the two countries since the emperor from whom it takes its name ordered its construction in 122 AD to "separate the Romans from the barbarians," the hostile tribes of the Picts who populated today's Scotland, a tough nut to crack even for the Roman legions.

To build it in just six years, about fifteen thousand men were employed, three legions that faced the challenges of a terrain carefully chosen to exploit its advantages.

The result is an impressive masterpiece of military engineering, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1987, stretching from one coast of England to the other for eighty Roman miles, about one hundred and seventeen kilometers from Solway Firth to the west and Wallsend to the east.

It is one of the many place names linked to its existence and then extending southwards with ports and coastal fortifications.

For nearly three centuries, Hadrian's Wall was northernmost and most fortified boundary of the Roman limes, a gigantic defensive system that stretched for over five thousand kilometres — from the Atlantic coast of Great Britain to the Black Sea across Europe — then continuing through present-day Middle East to Red Sea and from there cutting across North Africa to the Atlantic.

The 117km long (80 Roman miles) Hadrian's Wall was punctuated by 14 main forts, 80 minor ones and 2 watchtowers every third of a mile.

In addition to the actual wall, mainly made of stone, about 5m high and up to 3m thick, becoming six metres thick in the earthen sections, the Wall was reinforced by a ditch bristling with pointed stakes, a military road that connected the forts and allowed any point to be reached quickly and by a deep embankment, the Vallum.

The forts, rectangular in plan, varied in size according to the importance of the garrison, a pattern repeated with slight differences along the entire limes that protected the borders of the empire.

A moat and a wall punctuated by towers protected the perimeter and each side had a gate protected by two massive towers.

Inside were the headquarters — the praetorium where the praefectus castrorum reside; barracks; a hospital; warehouses and latrines, generally under the walls, while the bathrooms were outside the fortifications.

In granary, food supplies were stored to face the harsh winters or possible sieges.

In the Vicus, the civilian settlement, lived the families of the soldiers, often auxiliaries who officially could not marry.

In these villages that grew spontaneously around the forts, merchants, artisans and prostitutes also lived, attracted by the soldiers' wages.

There were also temples dedicated to Roman, local and even oriental deities that reflected the different religions of soldiers from all over the empire because Romans were very tolerant as long as the social order and the emperor were not questioned.

🎥: © pindropandhop via IG

[zwhoreo]

A fic of Luffy and Reader first meeting please 😍🙏 ( I love how you write Luffy)

tysm !!! <33 this turned out so cute i think

meeting him - luffy x gn!reader

fluff

summary: while watching the ocean on your front steps one evening, you meet a boy named monkey d. luffy. he tells you about his life as a pirate, and teaches you how to skip rocks in the sea

words: 1.6k

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Evening is just around the corner but the sky is still high enough over those clouds on the horizon that there’s warmth on your skin, golden and marinated. You’re sitting on the stone steps of your front garden and watching the waves crash on the white sand in the distance, because it’s warm enough that it’s still worth it to be here, letting the breeze weave your fingers.

Not many people are around at this time of night, the world is peaceful and still, but that’s why your head turns, in curiosity and focus, at the sound of wooden sandals on the sidewalk ahead, a heavy thwacking of aimless stumbling, the horizon bends with a silhouette of a boy walking down the cobble path and looking ahead, dazed, smiling over nothing.

You lock eyes. Large, brown, thoughtless and friendly eyes. You’re captivated and for some reason your heart folds in on itself in a way you can’t quite explain. His features are delicate, oddly beautiful in an unlikely sort of way, a hazel tan and greasy black hair blowing gently in the wind beneath an old, frayed straw hat. He looks like he’s been out at sea for a very long time, but although weathered he’s incredibly youthful, an older teenager, you think. He’s dressed like a pirate, you know this look well, they come into taverns drunk on cheap rum and leer at the young girls, picking fights, you didn’t think there were many good pirates left these days but something about this boy is so profoundly different. He’s not like anyone you’ve ever seen before, in some way you can’t place.

You watch him, keenly interested now, chin resting on your hands. Maybe this is why he comes up to you, crouching so close in front of you, no shyness present in his face. There’s an old scar under his left eye, tight and pale with age.

“Hiya!” His voice is raspy and loud. “You seen my crew anywhere?”

“Your crew? Mm, I don’t know. I haven’t seen anyone come by here for a while.” You find yourself talking differently than usual, not like you normally do with strangers, it’s something in your voice, your annunciation, that catches you off guard.

“Aw, really? There’s a lady with orange hair and this guy and he’s got green hair and three swords and-” He stops in the middle of a frustrated gesticulation when he sees your blank eyes. “Mm. Ok, I’ll go look in town.”

And just like that he gets up to leave. You’re saddened, but you find your words catching in your throat. Don’t leave.

But he pauses a few paces away, turning back after a brief consideration. “Hey, ya got any food? I’m real hungry.”

You look up, breath hitching. Yes, yes, this is something you can do. “Oh, yeah, I just baked some bread, actually. I’ll go get it if you wanna wait here.”

“Ooh! Sounds good. Hey, thanks!” he calls to you warmly, turning back, trotting to your front steps as you go inside.

The bread basket has been cooling on the windowsill, the crust is golden and steam wafts through the room and wets your hands as you pick it up to bring it to him. But when you come outside again he isn’t on your steps, or in your garden, you look around to find him but he isn’t anywhere, not until you step into the road and look over the rock embankment.

There’s the boy, he’s sitting in the white sand and playing with rocks, stacking them in lopsided towers with great intent. You smile when you see him. He isn’t gone. So you climb onto the beach and come to him, he grins casually, like you had been there all along, and his eyes light up when you set the bread in front of him.

“Ahh! This looks soo good!” Before his words are finished he’s already eating messily, he doesn’t care about the sand on his hands, he’s so focused.

You sit by him. You lean in, admiring his face, finally speaking, “I’m [name], by the way.”

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy!” he proclaims with enthusiasm, still not looking up. “It’s good to meet ya!” And he goes back to eating, as if this simple greeting has made you best friends and now everything is solved, but that name is familiar somehow and you like him so much already and you need to know more.

“Are you a pirate?” you ask with a tilted head.

“Mhm!” Luffy says through a mouthful of bread, “and I’m gonna be king of ‘em!”

“Pirate king, huh?” You raise your eyebrows, you’re charmed by him.

“Mm! Do you like the sea, [name]?” You feel like he’s been shifting closer to you, you hear him all around you now, his chewing remains consistent, loud.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s one of the prettiest things in the world,” you say honestly, the waves glitter in front of you, an infinite land-sky, glitter on pearl on galaxy-blue. Sunspots, stars, they twinkle on its surface.

“It’s real fun to be a pirate,” he chirps, finishing the bread and turning to you, his smile is gleaming and his voice is soft but gleeful.

“Yeah? What kinda stuff do you do out there?” You just want to hear him speak more, you realize.

“Ah man, everything! We go on tons of adventures, and we sing, and we get to make new friends wherever we go… and we look for treasure! We’re tryna find the One Piece!”

He returns your enchanted stare. He makes it all sound so easy, taming the cruel sea. His chest rises and falls, breaths heavy with excitement, his hands palm at the sand and hey, he’s really moving closer now, isn’t he? His eyes are so sparkly, it’s impossible to look away from him.

“Wanna skip rocks with me?” he asks before you have time to reply. He’s distracted so easily, reaching happily for his little tower, weighing the smooth gray stone in his hand.

Aren’t you looking for your crew? you want to ask. But you can’t let go of him yet, this mysterious, perfect boy. So instead you say, “sure, if you can teach me. I’m not great at it.”

“You live by the sea and ya can’t skip rocks?” Luffy laughs at you, tossing his stone into the sea with a snap of his wrist, it bounces once, twice, spinning in the air, a battle to fly from the ocean’s hunger, before it’s pulled beneath, disappearing into the surf.

Your hands touch as he gives you a rock, perfectly round and smooth, warmed from his palm. You throw it but your arm falters, it falls with a splash, gone before it could fly, a ripple of a memory left on the water, nothing more. Luffy laughs at you again.

“Nah, that ain’t it, you gotta flick your arm and keep it straight.” He moves close enough where you can feel his breath on your skin, hot and thick. “Mm,” he murmurs in your ear, voice low and ripe, “like this…”

He’s behind you, leaning against you, taking your arm and positioning you for the right sort of throw. His skin feels strange, like warm rubber, but your mind is so clouded with him, with his musky, overpowering scent and the tickle of his hair, you don’t notice much of anything. By accident, for the briefest moment, his salt-dried lips brush your shoulder, this is like lightning within you. But for Luffy this is nothing, it means nothing to him to be this close, it’s just what seems so natural.

You throw again, a smaller rock this time, aided by his hands on your arm. You’re so dizzied by his touch and you expect it to be even worse this time but to your surprise the rock skips once, a single heartbeat.

“See! Ya did it!” Luffy shouts joyfully, slapping you on the back, a little too hard, before pulling you in for a hug.

This is the best hug you’ve ever had. So tight, so warm, he buries his head in your shoulder, his weight nearly knocks you into the sand. You grab him back, by pure instinct, you want this closeness never to leave you.

But in an instant he’s pulled away again, unfazed by his own affection. He adjusts his hat carefully, looking back at the water, face content. He throws and skips one last stone.

“Mh, my crew’s prolly looking for me, huh?” Luffy stands up, dusting off his jeans, tilting his head at you. And then he offers you a hand, pulling you up with him, you’re face to face again and he places a hand firmly on your shoulder and says, “you can come if you want.”

“Huh?”

“On my crew. You can come be a pirate with me!” And again he has that way of saying things so simply. He doesn’t know you, how could he be so sure? But in his eyes you feel so incredibly, impossibly known.

He turns around, ready to walk away down the beach into the dying sunlight, and he turns to you once more and says, “you gonna be here tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I will!” you call to him, and he flashes you a broad smile, a thumbs-up, before running away into the horizon. You know he’ll come back.

Romance isn’t even in your mind. You just have this intense feeling for him, a certain kind of instantaneous love that goes deeper than any of that. You feel bonded, like you’ve never felt before, and you don’t know how it happened. You just stand there in the sand, dazed and misty eyed. You want so desperately to see him again. Deep breaths, calm your body, tonight you’ll have time to dream about what you’ll say.

You could see the world with him. You want to right now, very badly, so why not? Maybe it is that simple.

[johannestevans]

The Lighthouse Keeper’s Selkie

Fantasy/Romance short. A selkie becomes fascinated with a cold man living alone.

4.1k, M/M, rated M. Note warnings for non-graphic violence and butchery, themes of captivity, and cannibalism.

Dún has been watching the man in the white tower since he arrived.

The white tower has been there at the end of the peninsula for some decades now – the surfacers call it a “lighthouse”, because there is a great fire burning at the top of the tower, and at night time, or when it storms and it is very dark, a mirror spins to send out that light in a wide beam, that ships are not dashed upon the nearby reefs and rocks.

He is a bad man, the lighthouse keeper.

Dún considers himself no expert in the morality of surfacers, but he knows that they look unkindly upon the killing of their own, and as any species does, look even less kindly upon killing without reason, indiscriminately, which it seems to Dún this one does.

Now and then people become lost, and they wander up and down the beaches before they make their way to the lighthouse. They knock on its door on dark and foggy nights, and never does the lighthouse keeper permit them entry, or give them solace within – he gives them directions, and sends them wandering out into the fog, sometimes out onto the reefs themselves.

They fall from outcrops and hurt themselves, or sometimes are simply swept up in the waves – Dún has feasted on their corpses, and shared them out amongst his people.

It is the suspicion of the selkies, and of the mermen too, that this man is perhaps imprisoned here for some crime or other beyond those he now kills, because up ‘til now, the lighthouse has run on magic, with no keeper to attend it.

He is thin and bony, as many surfacers are – he has a hard jaw and deep sunken eyes, and sunken cheeks, and hair that is black with streaks of rocky grey.

One morning, as the sun is dawning, Dún creeps up the rocky embankment to the head of the peninsula, and he pauses on the rock, staring at the keeper. He is sitting on the step of the lighthouse, the door open behind him, and he is holding a metal cup, is drinking from it.

Steam rises from the cup, and Dún looks through the steam to the lighthouse keeper’s face.

Dún is very close to him. Some fifteen or twenty paces away, he is, perched on one of the larger, more stable stones – in the summer time, this is a very nice place to sit and warm oneself, enjoying the heat absorbed by it, but it is still winter, and the spring thaw has yet to arrive.

The keeper does not reach out for him, or speak to him. He does not compliment Dún’s fine hair or his handsome whiskers, nor the beautiful dark shine of his eyes, or the sharpness of his teeth – he does not ask Dún to give him his pelt, or even compliment it.

Instead, the keeper simply stares at him warily, saying nothing.

Read more here!

[vixenmulder]

A Bad Fall

Summary: reader gets hurt on a mission. Yord x reader fluff, pining, unspoken feelings

Warnings: head injury

—————

Overall the mission had gone well, and they were reasonably well received considering the native cultures weariness on space travel and foreign life.

As they left the small village behind, The wind picked up, howling around them and carrying with it a biting chill. Y/N could sense a strange feeling in the air through the force and it made her shiver.

They hiked back through the rugged terrain, as dark clouds loomed ominously in the distance, signaling the imminent arrival of a storm. Sharing a brief glance Y/N and Yord picked up their pace, mindful of the approaching tempest.

"Looks like we're in for a storm, and I don't know if we're going to out-walk it." Y/N observed after a little while, pulling her cloak tighter around her.

"Looks like it," Yord agreed, his tone neutral but he eyed the dark clouds warily. "We should hurry back to the ship before it hits."

The wind picked up, whipping through the towering hills surrounding them. Raindrops began to fall, growing heavier with each passing moment. The sunlight slowly began to fade until it was dark as night.

Puddles forming on the ground were splashing violently with the frequency of raindrops hitting them. And the two Jedi were thoroughly soaked, trying not to shiver as they marched onwards.

As they continued, the terrain grew more treacherous. The path was rocky and steep in some areas, requiring them to carefully climb over larger boulders, this was made twice as difficult thanks to the amplified weather of the planet.

Y/N, typically agile, failed to spot one slick stone concealed by a puddle. Her foot slid out from under her, her balance momentarily lost.

With a yelp, she tumbled backwards, her hand stretched out to catch herself and striking her head on a sharp rock as she fell. The force of the impact knocked her out almost instantly.

Yord barely heard her shriek over the downpour, but sensed the change in her force signature immediately. He rushed to the edge of the hill, watching as Y/N slid into a small, shallow creek at the bottom.

"Y/N!" he called out, the rain now lashing down, reducing visibility to mere meters. No response. At least not one he could hear. And her body remained motionless face down in the water.

Yord scrambled down the embankment, heart leaping. He splashed through the running water and mud, reaching the spot where Y/N lay motionless on the creek bed. He knelt down, speedily rolling her onto her back, out of the water and mud

"Can you hear me?" he said, trying to be heard over the howling wind. There was no response from Y/N. Her eyes were closed, and a nasty gash adorned her forehead.

Yord quickly assessed her condition. She was breathing, but her pulse was weak. A concussion, no doubt caused by the fall. He knew they had to find shelter quickly.

With a determined grunt, Yord scooped Y/N into his arms, her soaking wet attire weighing heavily on him. Supporting her against his chest, he scanned the surroundings for any signs of cover.

The world appeared as a grey scale sketch of blurred lines. The rain smacking against his face was painful and the stream was starting to flood, as lightning flashes illuminating the impact spots of rain. Yord looked up at the shore of the creek.

Luck was on their side. Not far from the creek, he spotted a small opening in the rock face. A cave system would be perfect for sheltering from the storm.

Shifting Y/N's limp form, Yord carried her into the cave. The sheltered space provided some protection from the elements, and he gently laid her on the dry ground.

Inside the cave, the howling wind seemed distant, dampened by the thick rock walls. Y/N lay with her head in his lap, still unconscious.

Yord ran a hand through his damp hair, cursing under his breath. The situation was far from ideal. Without medical supplies, there was little he could do for the concussion, or cut on her head. All he could do was keep her warm and comfortable until the storm passed.

Yord shrugged off his soaking wet cloak, draping it over Y/N's shivering frame. He rubbed her arms, trying to generate some warmth.

Time ticked by slowly, the rain battering the cave entrance incessantly. As he continued to run his hands up and down her arms and shoulders periodically hoping to create some friction and heat. Y/N stirred slightly, a small groan escaping her lips.

Yord perked up at the sign of movement. "Y/N," he said, leaning over her. "Can you hear me?"

Her eyelids flickered open, disoriented and blurry. "Wha...?" she mumbled, trying to sit up.

"Woah," Yord pressed a gentle hand against her shoulder, keeping her from moving too much. "Just lay back for a moment."

Yord's heart sank as Y/N's eyes fluttered closed again, her body going slack. She was shivering uncontrollably now, the cold and wetness seeping in despite the cloak.

He muttered another curse under his breath, drawing her closer to him in a desperate attempt to share his heat. The rain showed no sign of letting up, and the clouds had blocked out all light now. Who knew how long they would be trapped in this cave?

Now hours ticked by, the storm showing no signs of abating. Y/N lay motionless in Yord's lap, her pale face bathed in the faint glow of his lightsaber, the only source of light in the cave when he chose to flick it on.

He had discarded some of his clothes to create makeshift padding, trying to keep her insulated from the cold, damp floor. But her shivering persisted.

The cave was intermittently lit up by flashes of lightning from outside. Each bolt of lightning cast eerie shadows, dancing on the rough rock walls. Yord looked up as a particularly loud rumble of thunder echoed through the cavernous space.

Y/N shifted in his lap, mumbling incoherently. Her body jerked with each shiver, her teeth clattering against each other. Yord clenched his jaw staring across at the far wall. The only thing had that he could utilize was body heat, as uncomfortable as it was.

With careful movements, he adjusted her position, gently tucking his arm around her neck and using the other to pull her waist up, resting her head against his shoulder for warmth. Tenderly he ran a hand through her damp hair, feeling the coldness of her skin.

He wrapped her up tightly in his arms and rocked them slightly, this new position gave them a lot more contact and he was already starting to feel the temperature change in their clothes, not to mention he felt warmer as well, if not for different reasons.

She was still shivering, but not as violently as before. This was good. He placed his cheek against her forehead as he held her, closing his eyes tightly willing away his own urge to shiver.

"You're going to be alright," he murmured, to her unconscious form. "Just hang in there a little longer."

——

Yord felt warm and fuzzy, taking slow breaths as he cracked his eyes open.

Daylight streamed through the mouth of the cave, the rain having faded to a drizzle.

He stirred from his semi-slumber, shifting gingerly from under Y/N's head, at some point they had moved to laying down, on the cave floor cocooned by their robes layered across them like blankets.

Yord took a deep breath the humid air and familiar smell of Y/N filling his lungs as he flexed his arms, realizing how entangled they really were. He moved his hand to the back of Y/N's neck and felt a rush of satisfaction feeling the heat radiation off of her.

He looked towards the cave entrance again. He didn't know how long had passed, or when he fell asleep, all he knew was that he felt extremely comfortable and warm. Shame filled him when he felt hesitance to get up and leave the current situation he was in, but he must.

He started to slide out from under her as gently as he could, at some point he had fallen asleep on his back with her laying overtop of him. And the moment felt extremely intimate. Yord ignored the feeling of longing chewing at his chest.

He carefully rearranged Y/N onto the makeshift pillow of their discarded outer wear and moved to examine the cave mouth.

As the rain began to lighten, Yord raised his head, listening intently. The harsh pelting on the rocks outside was slowly decreasing, the storm seemingly moving on.

As the noise gradually died down, Yord allowed himself a sigh of relief. They were one step closer to getting out of this cave and to safety.

Yord leaned back against the wall, drawing a breath as he considered their situation. The storm was passing, but they were nowhere near their ship, and Y/N was still unconscious.

As Yord stepped further out he had to acknowledge that the moisture revealed the rugged beauty of the planet. The rain had washed away the dirt and grime, leaving the landscape vibrant and colorful.

They were in a valley, surrounded by towering hills and ridges. The rolling landscape was adorned by a variety of native flora, adding a splash of color to the otherwise rocky terrain.

The air was crisp and cool from the rain, carrying the faint scent of wet earth. The path back to the ship would be steep, but navigable in the light.

He glanced over his shoulder at the still form of his fellow Jedi, and from here it looked as though she was peacefully sleeping, his chest flooded with affection. He had to remind himself that she wasn't just sleeping, and their situation was more urgent than that.

He turned back into the cave gathering their robes and putting his back on though it was still damp. Then Yord hoisted Y/N over his shoulder once more, doing his best to be mindful of the gash on her forehead. As he set off out the entrance of the cave.

As they navigated the hillside, the scenery was even more breathtaking. Wildflowers bloomed in the crooks of rocks, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the grey stones. A small stream babbled nearby, fed by the recent rain.

A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he thought about how angry Y/N would be to find out she missed this beauty. But with a jolt of worry hurried onward as he realized the only way she would ever be able to enjoy scenery ever again was if he got her back to the ship before her condition worsened.

The terrain grew more demanding as they ascended. Yord moved with care, avoiding loose rocks and slippery surfaces. His lean muscles strained, and he was winded from the exertion and from Y/N's additional weight but refused to stop until they reached the ship.

The sky was clear now, the storm-darkened clouds having dissipated. The sun shone warmly, a stark contrast to the chill of the previous night. The familiar shape of their ship came into view, parked just over the next ridge.

As they crested the final ridge, Yord nearly collapsed in relief. There, perched on a small plateau, was their ship. It loomed like a silent sentinel, a sign of safety and familiarity.

He began the final descent, treading more quickly now. He longed to get Y/N back inside, where warm light and medical supplies awaited.

As they reached the ship, Yord wasted no time in accessing the hatch. With practiced ease, he punched in the access code and entered, setting Y/N down on a nearby bench.

The sterile interior was a sharp contrast to the alien terrain outside. Yord left Y/N momentarily to fetch a medkit from the cargo hold.

Yord returned moments later, the medkit under his arm. He knelt next to Y/N, opening the kit and withdrawing a small scanner. He ran the device over her, the blue light highlighting her injuries.

With gentle hands, he cleaned and dressed the wound on her forehead. A bacta patch was applied, its healing properties already beginning to take effect.

He cradled her face and moved it side to side making sure the patch would stay secure for the treatment of her external injury. He gave a small nod.

Satisfied with the application of his field medical training, Yord shifted his attention to the rest of Y/N's condition. He checked her vitals, reassured by the steady, if somewhat slow, heartbeat.

He took a moment to remove both their wet and muddy shoes, and paused slightly before removing her mid layers, leaving her undergarments for modesty, and fighting back the slightly shameful blush burning his cheeks.

He wrapped her in a clean, dry blanket, her chilled skin slowly warming. It would take time for her to regain consciousness. In the meantime, at least they were both safe.

With Y/N tucked safely on the bench, Yord took a moment to gather his own bearings. He changed into a dry set of robes himself, feeling heat flood through his body after getting out of the soggy ones. The adrenaline from carrying Y/N along the slippery trail was wearing off, leaving him feeling both exhausted and relieved.

He leaned against the cool metal wall, watching as Y/N's chest rose and fell with steady breaths. The ship was quiet, save for the soft hum of the life support systems.

Yord moved to the cockpit, flicking on the rest of the ship's systems. The engines rumbled to life, a comforting sound in the relative silence of the ship.

He ran through the pre-flight checklist, ensuring everything was in order. And entered the co-ordinates for the nearest settlement. Then he returned to where Y/N lay, sitting down on the edge of the bench beside her.

Leaning back against the far wall, he allowed himself to relax, watching her breathe, the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest.

The ship took off entering the atmosphere and beyond witha heavy rumble then stillness again. As Yord watched Y/N sleep, a mix of emotions stirred within him. She looked so still and vulnerable like this, her usual vibrance gone.

He was used to her lively spirit, her unwavering determination in the face of danger. But now, he saw her in a different light - soft, fragile, almost like a broken doll.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek longer than they should.

Yord found himself watching her intently. The harsh shadows cast by the artificial light of the ship accentuated her features, yet somehow softened her face.

He reflected on the night's events. It had only been a reconnaissance mission, yet they'd ended up stranded in a cave due to a freak storm. It could have ended badly.

And in all that, the one thing that kept resurfacing in his mind was his feelings towards Y/N.

This was not the first time he'd been aware of his emotions for her, but today's incident had brought them to the forefront.

He knew, intellectually, that relationships were complicated for Jedi. The stricture against attachments was in place for a reason. Yet he couldn't help feeling a pang when he looked at her now, so vulnerable in her sleep.

The way her eyelashes rested on her cheeks, the softness of her hair. A pang of fear and protectiveness stirred in his chest. They had faced danger countless times together, but yet this experience had left a mark.

He couldn't deny them, these feelings he'd harbored for so long. The way his heart leapt when he saw her smile. How his stomach would lurch when she was in danger. The way he would instinctively move to protect her, time and again.

Being stuck in that cave with her had brought those feelings to the forefront. He'd had to care for her, keep her alive. He'd felt her shivering in his embrace, her skin chilled and clammy.

Yord wasn't sure when the feelings had begun. Perhaps it was the endless hours they'd spent training together, the trust born from countless missions.

But somewhere along the line, his protective concern for her had shifted. He found himself noticing little things about her - the way she held her lightsaber, the set of her jaw when she was determined about something. The warm peaceful smile she adorned when dealing with the younglings, or admiring the beauty of a planet they were on.

Yord ran a hand through his hair, frustration and affection warring within him. He was so confused. He began calming his mind and relaxing his feelings. He was a Jedi, sworn to uphold their teachings. And yet...

His gaze returned to Y/N.

A wave of emotion washed over him, deep and primal. Whenever he was around her, his usually steady mind became a tangle of feelings and conflicting thoughts.

Yord stood abruptly, restless energy coursing through him. The confines of the ship didn't feel nearly as spacious anymore.

He began pacing the small room, his footsteps thudding against the durasteel floor. He was hyper-aware of every noise - the soft hum of the ship's life support systems, the soft rustle of Y/N's blankets as she stirred in her sleep.

He paused, looking down at her. As if she had heard his thoughts, Y/N stirred on the bench, a soft groan escaping her lips. Her eyelids fluttered, and she slowly began to regain consciousness.

Yord moved closer, watching her as she came back to awareness. Her eyes opened slowly, squinting against the harsh light of the ship.

Y/N's eyes opened fully, taking a moment to adjust to her surroundings. She shifted and winced as a wave of dizziness hit her.

Yord moved forward, sitting down beside her. "You're safe. We're on the ship," he reassured her, a hand coming up to brush her hair away from her forehead.

She winced as she reached up to touch the healing wound there. Y/N blinked several times, trying to clear her cloudy vision. As the world came into focus, she found herself staring up at Yord's familiar face.

"What...happened?" she mumbled, her voice raspy from disuse. She tried to sit up, only to wince as a sharp pain flared in her temple.

"Easy," Yord said, gently pushing her back down. "You took a pretty hard fall."

He looked down at her with concern written across his features. "You hit your head and got a concussion. You've been out for a few hours."

Y/N frowned, clearly trying to recall the events of the past few hours. "I don't remember much..."

She raised a hand to her forehead, gingerly touching the bacta patch there. "How..."

Yord watched her, his expression one of both relief and concern. "There was a storm. You fell. We hid in a cave until it passed."

Y/N frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall the events leading up to her current state.

"I don't remember falling," she admitted, frustration in her voice. "And my head...feels like it's been trampled on by a bantha."

Yord chuckled softly, a ghost of his usual teasing grin crossing his lips. "Yeah, concussed people usually do feel like that."

He leaned against the far wall again, folding his arms across his chest. "You gave me quite a scare, you know that?"

Yord's gaze softened as he looked at her. "I thought..." he furrowed his eyebrows and looked down for a moment swallowing hard. "...for a moment, I thought you weren't going to wake up," he admitted quietly.

Y/N, for her part, remained silent. She was still processing everything he had said, her mind fuzzy from both the concussion and the emotions that his words had stirred in her.

They both knew there were things that remained unspoken between them, feelings they were both unwilling to voice out loud.

Yord knew it wasn't the time or place to bring up his own feelings, especially not when she was still recovering from a head injury. Instead, he redirected his focus to the present situation.

"You need to rest," he instructed, his voice firm as he loooed back at her. "You've got a concussion. Your body needs time to heal."

Y/N nodded slowly, obedient for once in her life. Rest did sound like a good idea. Her head was throbbing, and her limbs felt heavy.

As she laid back, closing her eyes as another wave of dizziness washed over her. She shifted on the bench, trying to find a comfortable position. "How long until we reach the nearest settlement?" she asked, her voice unintentionally weak.

"At least another day," Yord responded, his voice even, despite the pang in his chest. "We're in the Outer Rim. There's not much out here."

Y/N took a deep breath, realizing the situation they were in. "One more day, huh?" she said, her voice calmer now.

She shifted on the bench, wincing as she accidentally jostled her injured head. "I'd really like a hot shower," she added, her tone tinged with wry humour.

Yord chuckled softly. "One day away from civilization and you're already missing the comforts."

He pushed off from the wall, coming to stand beside her. He was so close now, his presence both unfamiliar and comforting at the same time. Y/N's heart fluttered.

"You'll survive a day or two without hot showers and holo-net access," he teased lightly, grinning down at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat behind it.

The banter was comfortable, familiar. But beneath it, Yord could feel an undertone of something else - an almost electric tension between them.

"Easy for you to say," Y/N grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "You know, you probably haven't seen a sonic shower in your life."

Yord chuckled again, amused by her feigned irritation. He was tempted to tease her more, to prolong this light-hearted banter. But his concern for her well-being won out.

"Enough talk," he said in a gentle way. "You need rest."

Y/N sighed, her playful demeanor giving way to exhaustion. The concussion was taking its toll.

"Fine," she conceded, her voice weary. "I'll rest. But don't expect me to like it."

Yord smirked, the familiar banter feeling like a balm. "I wouldn't dream of it," he retorted.

He tucked the blanket tighter around her shoulders, his touch gentle. "Now sleep," he ordered.

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn't argue further. With a soft sigh, she closed her eyes, finally giving in to her exhaustion.

Yord watched as she drifted off to sleep, the sight of her peaceful face bringing a sense of peace to his own anxious heart.

Once her breathing had evened out a bit more he leaned down and carefully pressed his lips against the uninjured section of her forehead, his heart skipping a beat as he did so.

Standing back up feeling lightheaded he took a seat on a nearby crate, his thoughts a whirl of confusion and affection. He knew he shouldn't feel this way but he just couldn't help it.

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 23 - Don't Take That Sinner From Me

Word count: 6,049. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter.

Summary: The day Alastor leaves Hell and his wife behind and the events following.

Artwork shared with permission from @mooneggtarts. Please give them a like and a follow as their Alastor artwork is top notch. And although this chapter isn't from Alastor's POV, I saw this piece and knew it demonstrated exactly how he would be feeling during the events of this chapter.

Series summary

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 23 - Don't Take That Sinner From Me

Pentagram City

2016

Mina fidgeted in the back of the cab, nervous and anxious about getting home that afternoon. She wanted to be back at the radio tower . . . but she also felt the need to procrastinate her return as much as possible.

Alastor had been off for weeks. Acting strange, distant, and mercurial. Oddly bossy and demanding. It was different than when a rut was approaching in a way Mina couldn’t quite describe and it had her on edge. He wasn’t outwardly aggressive or upset with anyone in particular that she could tell; he wasn’t ranting about his job or the other Overlords like he tended to during that time of year. But he was much more prone to his darker moods than usual lately. He’d go days without sleep, he was drinking often to the point of being wasted, he was dismissive of her to the point of being outright rude at times. And then other times it was like he couldn’t get enough of her; showering her with affection, apologizing for his behavior, telling her how much he adored and loved her. She’d asked him directly, multiple times, what was wrong, and he’d insisted on the fact that all was well. But he got strangely and unnervingly quiet each time afterwards, almost as if he was afraid to speak at all.

Mina had almost not gone out with her friends that day but they had planned this get together a couple weeks in advance and she didn’t have the heart to cancel it just over a feeling. She missed her family from The Pit terribly. When she had first quit her job several years back, she had enjoyed the free time it had given her, even if it meant sacrificing some of her power. But over time, it felt like she and her friends were drifting slowly apart; their life continuing on as part of Abaddon’s family while Mina’s became more and more wrapped up in Alastor.

She had broached the subject of returning – just part time – to her job with Alastor the night before and he had practically blown up on her. Yelled at her. He never did that and the things he had said hadn’t even made any sense, but one thing was clear - he wanted her to stay away from Abaddon.

It had been the worst fight Mina could recall them ever having and she had nearly left then and there, at least to spend the night somewhere else until they had both cooled off but Alastor had beaten her to it; disappearing without an explanation for hours.

She’d retreated to her oasis; the pocket dimension of ocean and stars, with their large bed nestled into the sandy embankment. Even with the sounds of the waves there to sooth her, she had tossed and turned for hours; alone, confused, and hurt, but eventually sleep had found her and when she woke up, Alastor was in bed with her.

Even in his sleep, he had been wrapped around her, clinging to her, in a way he usually only did right after sex, his ears pinned back and his face buried in her chest. In her unconscious state, she must have reached for him as well because her limbs were just as entwined as his, and her hands were cradling his head, holding him close to her heart.

He’d woken almost as soon as she had and with one look at his crimson eyes, so full of regret and anguish, she had forgotten what she had been angry about. They’d kissed, holding each other tightly, but when she attempted initiating more, he’d turned her down.

Frustrated and with her pride bruised, she’d pulled away from him and got ready for the day.

He’d followed her around, acting stranger than ever. Like a puppy dog that had been kicked and was desperate for more affection. Alastor barely let her out of his sight, kept touching and caressing her, even though he had clearly not been in the mood for more amorous activities.

It wasn’t unusual for Alastor to not be interested in sex despite wanting to spend time with her, but there was such longing in his expressions that morning, Mina didn’t know what to make of it.

She’d finally snapped, calling him out on being a confusing mess of a man lately, reminding him that she was not known her for patience, and he was lucky she’d been as nice as she was, given what an ass he’d been lately.

He’d smiled, grabbed her face, and kissed her before telling her all would make sense eventually.

She’d seen something in him then, a flash of sadness despite his smile, that made her almost cancel her plans for the rest of the day.

“There’s no need for that,” he told her when she had said as much. “Go, have a wonderful day. You deserve it, more than you know. Just remember,” he’d said, pressing his forehead against hers, “despite how my actions may make it seem, I love you more than anything. You are strong and capable, my darling wife, and I treasure you above all else. Don’t ever forget that.”

Mina couldn’t help but smile up at him at those words and gave him one last quick kiss goodbye before she left to spend the day with her friends.

But as the day wore on, her mind wandered back to his odd behavior lately, and worry began to creep in again.

The taxi stopped when the tower came into view and she stepped out without looking up at it, her face buried in her phone as she walked down the sidewalk. It was only when she got under the shadow of the building that she looked up and noticed something was off.

It looked . . . dim, somehow. The red glow that usually reflected off the glass wasn’t there. Must have been a trick of the light.

But then she stood for a moment, wondering why she wasn’t being transported up. It always happened automatically; not since the first days of her learning to master the art of signaling to the tower that she wanted in did she have to think about being teleported.

She sent the mental message and felt the sluggish delay but after a couple of seconds, her body turned to shadow and lifted up until she rematerialized in the main room.

That was where she really began to worry.

Everything was shut off.

Alastor’s control panels were always lit up. Even when he wasn’t home. His magic was infused into every nook and cranny of the place. Their home was alive with his essence.

Mina went over to the panels, running her fingers over the keys and nobs that always glowed, dread sinking into her gut as she realized how cold it all felt. But signs of Alastor were still everywhere.

A half full cup of unfinished coffee sat by his chair. A record left in the player that he must have put on after she left. A cabinet door left slightly ajar – he was always leaving drawers and doors open, especially when he was distracted.

Everything else looked entirely ordinary, just . . . powerless.

No signs of a struggle. And no signs of him having packed.

Mina shut those thoughts down quickly.

No one could get in here and cause him harm and he certainly wouldn’t have left her. Not to mention this was his original home; if they were to ever split she would be the one to move out, not him.

She looked down at her phone, suddenly more agitated with him than anything. If he had just carried a cell phone on him like everyone else did these days, she could just call him and tell him something was wrong with his workstation and to get his tail home and fix it because it was freaking her out.

Mina sighed, setting her phone down on his bench, and transported herself to their bedroom.

It was that room, more than anything else, that ignited her panic and set her on her downhill spiral.

The pocket dimension that had stood in their bedroom for decades was gone.

“No, no, no, no, NO!” Mina cried out, running across the room and screaming the last word as she hit the wall where the little oasis should have been. The wood paneling, completely ordinary, and very solid, thumped against her fist as she hit it. Their bed, which had been at its ocean side location ever since the night of the honeymoon, was now back in its original corner. Made up and tidy, it stared at her from across the room, looking very wrong and out of place.

It was then that she let herself really feel it; it was like the magic of the tower had been unplugged and it was in some kind of power saving mode, closing off the things that would drain it the fastest. The only thing that was left was her ability to move through the walls of the place via shadow and the protective wards were still up, but even those were already weakening.

The place was dying.

The source of its power was gone.

Alastor was gone.

Mina flew back upstairs and ran towards the old-fashioned phone on the wall, begging for it to still be working. She picked it up but there of course was no dial tone. It was as dead as everything else.

She slammed it back down on the receiver, feeling herself begin to hyperventilate, then she grabbed her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found the one she was looking for.

The call was answered after several rings.

“Hello?” The woman’s voice on the other end sounded pleasant but confused.

“Rosie?” Mina asked, her voice so small and so very scared.

“What is it, darling?” Rosie asked, quickly switching to alarmed at the tone in her friend’s voice.

“Something bad has happened,” Mina said, squeezing her eyes shut as the tears began to fall. She sunk to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest, hugging herself. Although she was well over a hundred, she barely felt 10 years old in that moment. “I think Alastor is hurt . . . or worse . . . I can’t-“ she sucked in a breath, fighting the sob that threatened to tear from her throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Where are you?” Rosie asked, her voice firm and calm.

“Home,” Mina answered, “but it’s not . . . Rosie, it’s like it’s dead. Everything is turned off.”

Rosie breathed in a deep sigh, audible even over the phone.

“Come here, as quickly as you can. I’ll see what I can find out.”

___

“No one has heard a thing. It’s like he’s just vanished.”

Rosie set a cup of tea in front of Mina, who stared at it, uninterested.

She was nauseous and shaky, certain if she tried to eat or drink anything she would just puke it back up. Not even on her first day in Hell had she felt so uncertain and scared.

“Someone has to know something. Somebody did this!”

“Darling, you’re worried and that’s perfectly understandable. I’m at a loss as well. But if anyone took down The Radio Demon, they wouldn’t be keeping their silence about it. It’d make them the most powerful Overlord around.”

“What if it was someone else entirely? A Royal or one of The Sins. You know everything about Alastor’s work, who has he had problems with lately?”

“No one that I know of,” Rosie answered simply and went to take a sip of her tea.

Mina slammed her fist down on the table.

“Bullshit!” she yelled. “You’re his best fucking friend, Rosie! You have to know something!”

Rosie cleared her throat, set her teacup carefully back on the table, and levelled her gaze on Mina.

“If I knew anything, I would have told you first thing,” she said cooly.

Mina could see the threat in the woman’s black eyes but for the first time since meeting her, Mina truly felt no fear of the Overlord. She was too angry and too consumed over Alastor’s disappearance to care about her own safety.

“Then I’m wasting my time here,” she said and stood, scooting her chair loudly across the floor.

“Mina-“ Rosie said, standing, but Mina cut her off.

“Fuck you,” she spat, not looking around as she walked towards the exit.

“Now that is just uncalled for!” Rosie said, putting her hands on her hips. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I’m trying to help.”

“I don’t give a shit who you are anymore,” Mina hissed. “Alastor was your friend. . . . is . . . he is your friend.” Mina paused on the correction, disturbed at having slipped into past tense as if she had already accepted he was gone for good. “And all you can do is sit in the safety of your own home and drink your bloody damn tea. Some friend you are. What a powerful Overlord, the great leader of Cannibal Town is, if she can’t even figure out what happened here.”

“I’ll forgive you for that insult only because I’m certain he’s not dead and would have my head if I laid a hand on yours.” Rosie’s voice was icy in way Mina had never heard it and still, she didn’t care.

“You won’t have to bother killing me if I find out he’s dead. I’ll do it myself,” she said and slammed the door on her way out.

___

She found Niffty first.

Alastor was either dead or missing and Mina had to figure out which one it was before she decided on how to continue. And the fastest, easiest way to determine that was to go after the souls she knew he owned. If they were still bound, then he was still alive.

“Show me your chain,” Mina said, standing over the shorter woman.

They were in the radio tower, somewhere safe and alone, and Mina had already explained to Niffty what had happened that day. It was the middle of the night and still there was no sign of Alastor. The news networks and social media pages had made some mentions about the radio broadcasts being cut short, the airwaves around Hell were eerily quiet that evening, but no one had any good speculations as to why. They all assumed Alastor was up to something, not that he was missing.

“Why?” Niffty said, fidgeting and looking nervous.

She was also terribly upset and worried, her usual frantic energy more subdued.

Mina lowered herself to her knees so that she was more on Niffty’s level. She was desperate, angry, willing to go to more violent extremes than she had ever gone to before, but this soul was not one she could bring herself to be cruel to.

Short and impatient with, but still, she didn’t want to scare Niffty.

“If it’s still there, then we know he’s still alive. It would give me hope, Niff, if you’d just let me see it.”

“Okay . . .” Niffty hesitated and then raised her hands up as if holding something and as she did, the faint green chains appeared in her clutches then solidified.

Alastor was alive, his soul intact enough to keep the bond between him and Niffty as strong as ever.

The relief of it crashed into Mina and she immediately let out a sob, dropping her head into her hands and crying. A very large part of her had believed he was dead; had imagined the worst, most terrible fate befalling him, that he had suffered and been tormented before being snuffed out forever.

She felt petite arms wrap around her and realized Niffty was hugging her and felt her tiny body shaking as well.

“It makes no sense,” Mina said between her gasping cries. “He’s just gone.”

“I know,” Niffty said, her voice strained with her own tears. “I’m scared too.”

___

Neither of the two women were at all tired and there was no such thing as a last call at the bars in Pentagram City.

Fearing for Alastor’s safety and desperate to not lose anymore time, the two of them tracked down the other souls that he owned that he was most closely acquainted to; the ones who would be most likely to either know anything or be involved in a means of double crossing him.

Husk was one of those souls.

Mina had begun singing as soon as the bar door closed behind her, keeping Niffty well out of earshot. The patrons evacuated in under a minute but as Husk walked around the gambling table he had been sitting on, she grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the card table.

She had never been fond of him the way Alastor was. Mina found Husker to be too self-pitying, too lost in his drink and sorrows, and too bitter about life to be anything but a nuisance but for some reason, her husband seemed to enjoy keeping him around.

It pissed Mina off even more whenever Husk complained about Alastor, as if he wasn’t the one who had gambled his own soul away. As if he wasn’t lucky it was Alastor who had been the Overlord to take that bet and not someone who would treat Husk much worse.

With her singing halted, Husker snapped out of the trance she had put him in as she threw him to the table hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

“What the fuck,” he wheezed, gasping for air around her chokehold on him. “Mina?!”

“What do you know?” she asked, her voice remarkably calm and serious given the state of her mind.

“What are you talking about?” he gasped, grabbing at her wrists. “Where the fuck is Alastor?!”

“That’s what I want to know,” she said and let up on his throat, letting the demon sit up and rub his hands across his neck.

“Again, what the fuck are you talking about?” he grumbled.

“You haven’t noticed how quiet the radio was today?” she asked, tilting her head. “Alastor is missing and I need to know who knows about it.”

“You think I listen to that shit?” Husk said, looking around as if he just noticed the empty bar room. “I don’t tune into the radio much these days. And why would I know jack shit about Alastor going missing?”

“You work with him,” Mina said cooly. “You know him better than most. But we both know you hate him. That puts you in a pretty good position to be able to get rid of him.”

Husk’s eyes went wide as he realized what Mina was implying.

“I didn’t do anything to the bastard, though I wish I would have,” he said, pinning his ears back.

He reached for his pocket, likely going for his deadly set of playing cards, but before he could reach them, the long-pointed end of a needle was being held to his throat.

Niffty had appeared behind him, smiling down at the winged demon, waiting for him to give her an excuse to use the new weapon Mina had gifted her.

“You wanna go after anyone, you should be going after Vox. Everyone knows those two have beef,” Husker said, keeping his tone business like even if he was side eyeing the crazed woman holding his life hostage. “If you think you’re strong enough, that is.”

“I’ll work my way up there if I have to,” she said and motioned with her chin towards Niffty, who dropped her needle away from Husk’s throat.

“What, you’re not going to torture me for information?” Husker asked, shifting away from Niffty even as she jumped off the table.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Mina said dismissively, turning to leave. “But if Alastor doesn’t show up soon, it might be a wise decision to make yourself harder to find.”

___

It took them days to track down and interrogate the rest of the souls. They hardly slept or ate, barely caring for themselves at all. And they had nothing to show for it.

By week's end, Mina was completely strung out and going insane.

She had sent Niffty away and locked herself up in the tower. It was nearly completely drained of everything at that point. The wards had fallen and it took an enormous amount of her own energy to enter it.

It looked decrepit, inside and out. The metal of its base was beginning to rust and warp. A couple of the panes of glass had shattered. The walls looked like they would crumble any day now. Inside the air was musty and dank, reeking of mildew and dust.

Mina curled up on the floor of the main room; where Alastor had first shared his mother’s recipe with her, first slow danced with her, first shared the secrets of his heart with her. Where his last words to her were to never forget that he loved her.

She cried there on that floor, screaming out her anguish, sobbing until her back and ribs hurt. It felt like her heart would burst with the internal pressure of her pain. Her hands gripped at her hair, her head pounding worse than any hangover, her eyes aching from the never ceasing torrent of tears.

The not knowing was driving her to madness. Had he left her like this on purpose? Or was he stuck somewhere, hurting as much as she was, or likely even worse? Had he known this was going to happen or did he just suspect something might go wrong? Had he sent her away that day to keep her safe or to make his leaving easier?

She couldn’t think anymore; her mind was just blaring white noise, an asylum full of nothing but pain and panic.

The tower moaned and creaked around her, her ears picking up the distressing noise, even over the sounds of her cries. It didn’t matter. If it fell, she would fall with it.

Hours ticked by and then an entire day and night.

Eventually, her body gave into exhaustion and fell asleep.

She dreamed of him; of his arms around her, the glowing red of his eyes, his static voice singing in her ears, his skin caressing hers, the smell of him; whiskey and the smoke from his pipe and the woodsy coastal scent of swamp filling her senses.

Mina woke, alone and cold on the hard floor, but could still smell him.

She sat up with a start, hopeful and frantic, looking around for any sign of him.

But then she looked down and saw his shirt in her hands. She had pulled it from their dresser and held it to her face as she cried herself to sleep. It still smelled uniquely like him, and she lifted it to her nose once more, tears stinging her swollen eye corners, before she threw it to the ground and stood.

She was done searching. Done torturing and interrogating. Done wasting time.

Everyone in Hell knew he was missing now; the news was being broadcasted everywhere. Most were still afraid of him, respected him enough to not say much. But some were celebrating.

She would make them pay. Make them feel her pain. And in doing so, she would make Hell tear itself apart to bring to light the ones responsible for this.

___

This bruised and beating heart

It hungers for your pain

Fill it up until it stops

Stab it and bleed it black

This burning and thirsting throat

It yearns for the dark

Fill it up until I choke

Stopped by your silent attack

There’s children screaming in the streets

Their mothers dead under their sheets

And still it’s me you fear

My words the greatest threat your ears have heard this year

I won’t show you kindness now

You chose your hate

I chose my blade

So enjoy this bloody bed you’ve made

You won’t show your mercy then

You threw us out

You let us starve

So they’ll dance on your grave unafraid

The world’s a ruin of smoke and ash

But pockets are full of gold and cash

Of course it’s still me you fear

My words the greatest threat your ears have heard this year

Mina wrote that song when she first arrived in America. She’d thought she’d known the horrors of prejudice back home, but it was nothing compared to the class and race warfare that suffocated the most vulnerable of Americans. Black, Italian, Irish, Polish, Asian . . . basically if you didn’t have the perfect combination of last name, skin tone, and accent, the arbitrary and idiotic differences that divided the working class of the United States, you were barely seen as human. It had enraged her, filled her with hate, and she had found an even greater taste for violence . . . and the best muse for her songs and poems yet.

Now Mina was angrier than she had ever been. More blinded by her own pain, consumed by her own misery, than at any other point in her short life and far longer afterlife. And her power responded in kind.

The surge of it was practically humming through her nervous system, making her blood pound through her veins with more strength than even Abaddon’s blood had once given her.

And she put every once of that powerful intention, that driving force to find Alastor, into her most emotional, vengeful song she had ever put to paper.

Someone in Hell had taken Alastor from her and since she didn’t know who to focus her hate on, she focused it on all of them.

She walked down the main streets of Pentagram City, singing, and everyone who heard her song went mad. They attacked each other, beat each other, ate each other. Hordes of demons ran into shops, pulling innocent shoppers and business owners alike out into the street, who then heard her words as well and joined in.

There was little goal besides chaos. She simply let everyone feel what it was like inside her tumultuous mind but one thought came through loud and clear; one single clear message that entered the minds of almost every Sinner and Hellborn in Pride Ring that day.

Bring me Alastor.

Destruction reigned down all-around Mina as her Siren song took hold of the entire city. Those who were innocent, who didn’t know where Alastor was or how to find him, simply went insane.

Millions of demons went insane that day.

Hell had been torn to shreds. Mina had caught the attention of every Overlord, every Sin, and every royal Hellborn. Even the lower rings heard of the destruction that the Radio Demon’s wife set loose on Pride that day.

And Alastor was still gone.

___

Mina woke slowly, her body fighting to stay unconscious. Not from any drugs, illnesses, or maladies of the physical form; she simply did not want to face reality. She had been enjoying a dreamless state of bliss where her mind floated in nothing but darkness and quiet and yet, despite her wishes to stay that way, her body began to betray her.

She blinked her eyes, seeing a beam of morning light filter through her curtains. Black curtains, around vintage crank windows, and the dim light that streamed through them was tinted red.

When she had first begun spending nights in the radio tower with Alastor, his bedroom had been completely windowless. But as he began to experiment and grow his power with glamours and eventually pocket dimensions, he created the allusion of windows, complete with different daytime and nighttime scenery, even changing the seasons on a whim. But it was always images of Earth outside those imaginary windows, never Hell. They had enough views of Hell upstairs in the main room.

Mina sat up, wide awake now that she realized where she was.

This was her old room. Her old apartment.

Her ears twitched as she heard a thump from outside her bedroom door and then muffled voices.

She rubbed her eyes as she tried to recall the last thing she could remember. It was all just a blur of violence as she walked through Pentagram City and then . . .

It’s time to come home.

Abaddon’s voice from behind her. A rush of warmth. And then peaceful nothingness.

When she stepped out of her bedroom she was greeted by Abaddon, Niffty, and Rosie, who were carrying boxes into her living room.

“Ah, there you are darling,” Rosie said, setting a box down and clapping the dust off her hands. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Mina didn’t answer, just looked around the unfurnished living space and the dozen boxes that were scattered around the room.

Abaddon cleared their throat.

“We didn’t know what you would want to keep or not but we figured we might as well get out what we could before the tower collapsed completely.”

“Ooooooh, what’s this do?” Niffty asked, pulling out a bear trap that was nearly as big as her. It had been used as décor but was still perfectly functional. Thankfully Rosie bent down and carefully removed it from Niffty’s grasp before she could hurt anyone with it.

Abaddon chuckled. “You know, I never really cared for the guy, but I gotta say, I did like his style.”

Mina felt the burn of tears collecting in her eyes.

This was what was left of the life she had built with Alastor? Boxes full of a pathetic mix of the few materials they had collected together over the years. And now she was to do what? Just return to her life in The Pit with her broken heart and some mementos? She knew life would be easier to deal with if her heart had literally been ripped from her chest instead of this gaping hole that Alastor had left behind him.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breath. She just stood there, staring at her friends, and silently began to cry.

“Oh dear,” Rosie said, and went over to her, crushing her into a hug. Mina buried her face in the taller woman’s bosom and sobbed. “There, there,” Rosie whispered, stroking her hair, “I know it hurts. And it hurts this bad because he really did love you. Does love you. I’m sure he’ll turn up again someday, darling, and when he does, he’ll have quite the tale to tell all of us. Just try and hold onto that hope, alright?”

Mina didn’t respond, just stayed in Rosie’s arms, clutching at her friend and weeping. She had been so awful to Rosie when she had last seen her and yet, here the Overlord was, supporting and caring for her.

The gates of Cannibal Town had just been coming into view when she had blacked out. Mina put the missing pieces together on her own then, that Rosie and Abaddon had worked together to stop her madness before she unleashed it on the one section of Pentagram City she would have regretted hurting. And then they had brought her here, kept her safe and out of the public eye, until she was ready to wake up again.

She felt Abaddon’s hand on her shoulder and heard their regretful sigh.

“Wherever he is, it’s not in Hell. I swear, Mina, I searched all seven Rings. There’s not a trace of him anywhere, I’ve never seen anything like it. But he’s most certainly alive. Or . . . well, his soul is.”

Mina sniffled, hiccupping as her crying came to a pause, and looked up at Abaddon.

“He’s on Earth?” she asked.

“It’s the next most logical place he could be. There are . . . other realms, but they would be outright impossible for him to get to.”

“Can you . . . would you send some of your hunters there to look for him?”

She knew Abaddon didn’t care for Alastor but they would do this for her. If not to just end her pain but to make Alastor answer for what he had done to her.

“I can do you one better, if you’re willing to keep a secret,” Abaddon said with the slightest twitch of a smile. They looked at Rosie who nodded at them to continue and gave Mina a gentle push at her shoulders, steering her out of her embrace to stand more directly in front of Abaddon.

They took her hands in their own, a golden glow beginning to shimmer around their silhouette.

“Work for me. You’d be the one bringing Sinners back to The Pit rather than punishing them and you’d get the chance to go to Earth any time a job is available. You know Alastor better than anyone. You would be best at guessing where he would be. You would have your family, your friends, and your home, all the security this place can offer you. And you could bring Alastor back yourself. Drag him by his antlers, if need be.”

Mina didn’t return their smile, nowhere near healed enough to begin finding humor in anything. But she turned her hand in their grip, bringing her palm against theirs and gave them a firm handshake.

“Deal.”

___

A week later

The tower still stood but just barely.

Several of the support beams had rusted completely through and fallen to the ground. The lattice was now a broken and wobbly mess that loudly groaned and creaked with every little breeze. The body of the building was tilted dangerously to one side.

Pride Ring’s very own Leaning Tower.  

A cold, broken corpse. The perfect metaphor for her life.

Mina looked up at the thing, feeling her anger beginning to boil up to the surface.

She didn’t know yet if all of this was Alastor’s fault, but she had a sinking suspicion it was. He had known something would happen before he disappeared and had done little in the way of trying to warn her.

But he had been right about one thing. She was strong and capable. She would survive this and when Alastor got back, whenever that was, there would be Hell for him to pay before she would take him back.

Despite all her resentment, she couldn’t let his image continue to crumble away like this.

His radio tower represented him and whatever state it was in was how the city would view him. She couldn’t let it continue to rot away like this. It would be better if it was simply gone rather than slowly disintegrating before the eyes of Hell.

Mina stepped closer until she was completely covered in its shadow, standing directly beneath it, and placed her hands on one of the metal beams of the base.

There was no energy there anymore. The magic had been totally drained. It was just an ordinary building now, with nothing of Alastor remaining in its essence.

She felt the heat in her hand and pushed it out with her mind, watching the flames bloom to life and lick up the metal, crackling and sizzling audibly as it traveled up.

Angelic fire was more than just a hotter version of mortal flame. When directed by a true master, it could consume anything born of Hell, and Alastor’s tower was as unnatural as Hellish creations could get.

The flames spread from each joint where the beams connected, racing wide and up until the whole thing was ablaze.

Mina stepped backwards, slowly walking away from the ever-growing heat of the inferno but kept her eyes on it and staying inconspicuously out of eyesight of the crowd that was forming to watch.

She stayed in the shadows for the entire hour that it took for the ordeal to be over with and in the end, her old life had been burned away, leaving nothing behind but a large, smoldering pile of ash. Her deepest desire now was that Alastor would return soon enough to find it exactly like this so that he would see just exactly what it was that he had done to her.

Next Chapter ->

@inuhalfdemon @saccharine-nectarine @whoknowswhoiamtoday @redvexillum @visara-valentina

[atriza]

Unraveling Threads pt. 3

Yandere Five Hargreeves x Reader

Part one Part two

Summary: Y/N, trapped in a windowless room by Five Hargreeves, decides she must escape his obsessive grip. After convincing Five to take her for a walk outside, she spots an opportunity and makes a desperate run for freedom through a forest. Despite her efforts, Five catches up to her after a painful fall down an embankment. His anger and betrayal are clear, and he reasserts his control over Y/N, telling her she can never leave. As she is led back into captivity, Y/N realizes there may be no escape from his obsession.

Word count: 995

**Content Warning:**

This story contains dark and potentially distressing themes, including obsessive behavior, violence, manipulation, and psychological distress. It portrays a relationship that is unhealthy and toxic, where one character exhibits controlling and possessive tendencies that lead to extreme actions.

If you are sensitive to these themes or find them triggering, please consider skipping this story.

Have Fun Reading!

Days blended into an agonizing blur for Y/N. Time felt meaningless in the small, windowless room where she was held. The only break in the monotony was Five’s visits—always calm, always collected, always terrifyingly gentle. He would bring her meals, talk to her in a low, soothing voice, and watch her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. The more time passed, the clearer it became that Five’s obsession had spiraled into something far darker than she had imagined.

Y/N knew she had to act. Waiting for Five to come to his senses wasn’t an option anymore. Every time he looked at her, she could feel the walls of her prison closing in, tightening with each passing second. The only way out was to escape—and she had to do it soon.

One evening, when Five entered the room with her dinner, Y/N forced a smile, masking the fear gnawing at her insides. "Five," she began, her voice steady despite the storm raging in her mind, "I’ve been thinking… You’re right. About everything."

Five paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He set the tray down and turned to face her fully, his expression softening. "You’ve come to understand," he said quietly, a hint of relief in his voice.

"I have," Y/N lied, her heart pounding in her chest. She had practiced these words over and over in her mind, knowing this was her one chance. "I know you’re doing this to protect me. And I’m grateful, really. But I can’t stay in this room forever. Maybe…maybe we could go outside? Just for a little while. You’ll be with me the whole time, and I promise I won’t run."

Five studied her closely, his gaze piercing, as if he were trying to read her thoughts. For a moment, Y/N thought she had failed—that he would see through her ruse. But then he nodded, though his eyes remained wary. "We can go for a walk," he agreed, "but you have to understand—if you try to run, I’ll have no choice but to bring you back here. I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/N. I can’t."

Y/N forced herself to meet his gaze, giving him a small, reassuring smile. "I won’t run. I just want to be with you."

The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but it was the only way to get out. As Five led her down a narrow hallway and up a flight of stairs, Y/N’s mind raced, desperately trying to formulate a plan. She had no idea where they were or how far away help might be, but it didn’t matter. She had to take the risk.

When they emerged into the cool evening air, Y/N inhaled deeply, savoring the taste of freedom, however brief it might be. They were in the middle of a dense forest, the trees towering above them, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The sky was a deepening shade of twilight, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ground.

"This way," Five said, gesturing toward a narrow path that wound through the trees. "It’s quiet here. Safe."

Y/N nodded, her pulse quickening as she followed him down the trail. The further they walked, the more she scanned the area for any sign of escape—a break in the trees, a path leading in another direction, anything that could offer her a chance.

Then, she saw it—a faint, barely visible trail leading off into the woods, partially hidden by thick underbrush. Her heart leapt into her throat. This was her chance. She had to act now, before it was too late.

"Thank you for bringing me out here, Five," she said, forcing her voice to remain calm and steady. "It’s nice to feel the fresh air again."

Five glanced at her, his expression softening slightly. "I’m glad you’re starting to feel better," he replied, though his tone was still cautious. "We can do this more often, if it helps."

Y/N nodded, her mind racing. She knew she had to time this perfectly. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed his hand gently—a small, calculated move to lower his guard. Then, without warning, she yanked her hand free and bolted down the hidden trail, her feet pounding against the earth as she ran.

"Y/N!" Five’s voice rang out behind her, sharp with alarm. She didn’t look back, didn’t dare slow down. The underbrush scratched at her legs, branches whipped at her face, but she pushed through the pain, driven by pure adrenaline and the desperate need to escape.

But she could hear him behind her, his footsteps growing closer, faster. Five was relentless, and Y/N knew he wouldn’t stop until he had her back under his control. She could barely breathe, her chest burning with each gasping breath, but she couldn’t stop—she had to keep going, had to get away.

Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath her, and Y/N let out a cry as she tumbled down a steep embankment. Her body crashed through the undergrowth, pain shooting through her limbs as she hit the ground hard. Dazed and disoriented, she lay there for a moment, the world spinning around her.

She barely had time to catch her breath before Five was there, standing at the top of the embankment, his expression a mix of anger and something that looked like betrayal. He slowly descended toward her, each step deliberate, as if he were trying to keep his emotions in check.

"I told you not to run," he said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. "Why didn’t you listen, Y/N?"

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Five…please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I was scared. I—I didn’t mean to—"

Five cut her off with a sharp gesture, his eyes narrowing. "You promised me," he said, his voice cold. "You said you wouldn’t run. I trusted you, Y/N."

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she looked up at him. "I’m sorry," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just let me go…"

For a moment, Five’s expression softened, and Y/N thought she saw a flicker of the man she once knew—the man who had saved her, who had made her feel safe. But then, just as quickly, the cold, calculating mask slipped back into place.

"I can’t let you go," he said, his voice resolute. "Not now. Not ever. You’re mine, Y/N. You’re my fixed point."

With those words, any hope of reasoning with him vanished. Five reached down and grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not cruel, and pulled her to her feet. Y/N winced as pain shot through her ankle, but she knew there was no point in resisting. She was too exhausted, too injured, and Five was far too strong.

As he led her back through the woods, Y/N’s mind raced, searching for any possible way out of this nightmare. But deep down, she knew the truth. There was no escape. Not from Five. Not from the man who had made her his entire world.

And as they disappeared into the shadows of the forest, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that her fate was sealed—that no matter what she did, she would never truly be free.

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

I hope you like it 🫶🏻

[womblegrinch]

Edward Seago (1910-1974) - The Thames at Westminster

Oil on board. 13.75 x 20 inches, 35 x 50.8 cm.

Estimate: £20,000-30,000.

Sold Dreweatts, Newbury, Berks, 12 March 2025 for £40,000 + B.P.

The angle and elevation of the work would suggest that Seago painted this from the Institution of Engineering and Technology on Savoy Place (yep, I lined it up) just by Waterloo Bridge. In the foreground is Cleopatra's Needle, behind which is Charing Cross Rail Bridge, then Westminster Bridge leading to Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, beyond is Lambeth Bridge and Millbank Tower a little further upstream.

The next building along Savoy Place is the back of the Savoy Hotel from which Claude Monet painted his iconic views of Waterloo Bridge and the Houses of Parliament (roughly level with the Routemaster bus on Victoria Embankment). I've posted some previously.

As an aside, if you are ever on Waterloo Bridge there are a set of steps on the north side at the end of the railings that lead up to a raised terrace and the entrance to 1 Lancaster Place. It gives you a 180-degree view from the Houses of Parliament panning around to the Pleistocene south of the river before coming back to Civilisation with the City of London and Docklands north of the Thames. No one goes up there so you can make a quick video, but don't linger as technically it private property. OOPS! Well, you can forget about all of this paragraph until the end of 2026. 1 Lancaster Place and Brettenham House next door are undergoing a major refurbishment and the place is a building site. I guess I'm usually concentrating on the road as I ride past! Make your video from the bridge instead.

[tarotnoob]

Global predictions Jan.-June 2025

Disclosure: I like to do predictions. Especially for individuals or pick a cards. Sometimes in those, world predictions come up. The weird thing about tarot is that it would be pretty much impossible to predict specific events and even if you could, how could you predict where it would happen? I don't particularly believe in psychics. If you look at world famous psychics and their predictions, most of them get them wrong or it's so vague that after the fact you can attribute it to whatever event.

Does that mean psychic ability doesn't exist? Not exactly. I think like with tarot you can see some images and guess at an event and then look back later and be like oh that's what it was saying. Maybe or maybe you're just assuming. Point is, nobody can really predict the future. At least not by means of a psychic vision, in my opinion. Can you predict the future based on economic things or the actions of certain individuals before an event? Yeah probably. So, take anything I say with a grain of salt. I just have a few cards in front of me and have to guess around the world what these things could mean.

Since it would take a long time to do all 12 months, I'm going to do the first six and then I'll do the second part later.

January

Five of cups, four of cups, last quarter moon in Scorpio reveal what needs to be seen, support I surround myself with those who support my vision and share my values

I did this reading on January 12th, a couple of days after the LA fire which is still going on.

I feel like because I know some events I'm already kind of led by what's happened, but we have a card about loss, guilts, disappointment, grief. And a card about being preoccupied and not saying something in front of you. This could also be a card about discontentment, boredom, stagnation, preoccupation, meditation. What's interesting is that both cards and by the way I'm using two different decks so just to see if meaning of the cards kind of matched up between the decks. But both cards kind of speak to well not seeing something. Which is interesting given the oracle card. Because in five of cups it's supposed to be focusing on the negative or what happened that disappointed you and not realizing there are other opportunities available in the future. Both cards are about not seeing something. And the events of January according to the Oracle card are to reveal what needs to be seen. Since we have Pluto here I do associate Pluto with pulling back the curtains of things that we need to realize. Almost like a tower moment but not really an obviously we've had Tower moments in January so far

And this isn't specific to just La, it will be about multiple events and the world happening right now that cause grief or have people wringing their hands but what I think Pluto does is besides initiating change, besides being about death, or life and death, it can reveal things that aren't working or for example. Talk about a bridge collapse. Why did the bridge collapse, well maybe somebody is at fault for not checking on the safety, maybe it's the government lowering their standards for these things, maybe it's something in the mechanics of the bridge, maybe it's something about the people on the water and not operating a ship as they should and it runs into the bridge. To use the la fires as an example, there's been a lot of talk about you know why wasn't there water available, why did they cut the funding for the firefighters, why weren't they clearing out the brush and so on. So in my mind Pluto can reveal these shortcomings but at the cost of well life. The plain incident in Korea happened in December, but it's the same thing. What about the plain model caused the landing gear not to come down, why did they have to have that concrete embankment at the end and at a such a short distance after the runway

Incidents like that can happen to show what's not being seen. In terms of support though, I also think that it's a chance for people to see how others support each other and show support in times of grief and disaster. That also it just shows that there might be a time where people rally around each other to help and provide support. It could literally be about support as in like government support or like I said the protocols, literal support as in keeping buildings up. The thing that worries me a little bit about that is in addition to the fires, will we see maybe some earthquakes. Other examples of disaster that will cause buildings to collapse, or other mechanical errors to happen. It might even shine light on climate change. Make people take that more seriously. I won't tell you that this is like intentional from the universe to say look at what you're doing wrong, it's more like collectively these are things we're going to be thinking about right now. How we can support and help each other as well as what we need to see that's going on that we aren't aware of. And as a skeptic, I'm often looking at the government and going what aren't you doing, what corners are you cutting. And that's not just the government. Granddad I don't really trust authority n general

But I think the universe has phases of energy that comes down on all of us and then individually we experience and what I've experienced in the last couple months of 2024 was realizing that I wasn't supported in the way that I thought in terms of work and resources I needed when I was sick or when I was having mental health issues. And I recognized that what I thought my job was and how I envisioned my myself in the scheme of my job wasn't at all the reality. And sometimes people have these wake up calls and those things happen I don't know so that we do change but it's more like a cause and effect as well. When you experience this thing you're going to see it and you're going to ask for and demand to change

So again I don't have any specific events I want to try to predict but I do think if we do see anymore tragic events, it will have to do with literal lack of support and the result is some kind of disaster. Like a lack of preparation or a lack of compassion, mechanical or structural issues, financial lacking to prevent something or that being a reason for a lack of support. Not wanting to spend money on resources. And those things I think for the rest of the month are going to be revealed. Things that people weren't aware of that were happening are going to be shown. And then in the literal sense I do think we'll see a lot of people providing financial support and resources to people that experience tragedies at that world level.

Again I say that because when I look at the visuals as well, the five of cups has that bridge in the background with a little bit of water and then a sort of stone and crumbling structure in the background, we have this cup has wings so it makes me think of planes or an angel so bringing in help. It's interesting that the little guy with the flower on his head has oven mitts

But basically as we've already seen things play out this month, if there are more I can't tell you for sure, but if they happen it has to do with structural or mechanical issues of things failing that probably need to be looked at and reassessed. Systems failing, governmental support failures, equipment failures, and since there's water in both definitely issues related to water but we kind of already know that a lack of water is responsible for the fires at least, and also I just don't want to make sad predictions though. Like maybe more will be shown about the Korean plane or maybe there will be another flight incident.

February

February has Page of cups, page of wands, peace, last quarter moon in Pisces talk less feel more. So there's not a lot of negative things to read for this pile. I can't remember if it's this pile or the next one that I also saw the magician sort of fall out or was kind of like on the table and I didn't notice. Which is interesting because both piles have mentions of beginning energy

It's interesting that it says talk less and then there are zero sword cards. We have a cup card and we have a wand card, to me this is about communication, being inspired based on feelings. So I think that this will probably be a time where people start trying to go into action based on their feelings about something. This would be like fundraising. I wouldn't be surprised if people tried to organize a a like fundraising Marathon put on by celebrities or other people. There might be some type of peace negotiations that happen, it might just be more time of calm although I doubt that given that a certain transition in terms of presidents will be happening in the US very shortly. And I don't anticipate peace in any way this year. So I think this is more related on focusing on what's important which probably going to be people talking about how they can help, people telling their stories of what they experienced

Even if certain events happen in this month that are negative, the focus ideally is to be compassionate and be active with that compassion. Doing good deeds, same kind things to people, communicating enthusiasm or creativity or even rebuilding things. I think people across the world will be taking action to try to make things right or to help other people. There really is a lot of focus on creative energy with Pisces joining as well. So I wouldn't be surprised again that if specifically actors or musicians rally together to do one of those what do you call it when they all get on TV and do a telephone. There might be some really interesting things happen with music and film like award shows, some really good movies or shows come out.

I don't really remember when the Oscars happened or even the Grammys but during those events people might talk more about like helping each other and peace and whatever. But basically the world will be communicating about peace and helping each other and for some reason it has a creative spin to it. And also like a strong sense of spirituality? People might be looking more to spiritual practice or religion during this time. Engaging in more creative outlets. Us on an individual level might suddenly feel like we have more energy to put toward creative projects and hobbies.... The only thing to kind of look out for in terms of events, would be things related to water or snow

I don't know if I want to say it's like a tsunami or if I just want to say certain areas that haven't received water will receive it. Maybe other places will receive large amounts of snow, I'm seeing this more as rain than snow so maybe we'll actually see a break in areas that have drought and they'll have water or solutions for finding or preserving water. That would definitely make sense with what was being said in January knowing that okay well we have this issue of not having enough water right not having the structural implements to sustain whatever. But in February it looks like action will be taken to rectify those things. Either literally people being able to find water from other resources or it will rain. I don't see anything negative here to make me think okay well actually we're going to have a tsunami but I just feel paranoid and always want to point out those things. Flooding and what not. There's a lot of water involved in all of this imagery. But I think that has more to do with February being like an emotional and creative and water-centric month.

In the page of wands that also looks like an olive branch you know. Like what you give when you want peace so I do wonder if something significant will happen here in which two countries or two people who have had some kind of issue as will extend some kind of Olive Branch in the name of Peace. I don't know why voice to text capitalizes those things.

This is where trying to predict things gets wonky so I'm going to say something like well he's a microwave and he's handing out a branch so it makes me think that that Olive Branch could come in terms of technology, he kind of looks like a tank, this could be a piece of information that's offered, but to me it feels very technical. Like someone offering significant, sophisticated information or technology and it's related to peace or war or something like that. And it feels like it's being given to somebody and it should help in theory. So the other elements here are well the wand represents fire, the cup is water. So it could be a piece of information related to the fires. We've already seen other countries come and try to like help by using their plans to dump water. But this is for February so we might just continue seeing that or there might be some other gestures that continue related to that. And it doesn't have to just be la fires. I'm talking about that because I live in the US. It could also be about the Korean playing and other governments you know providing information or technology about that

It could even be something about even the poorest of people are giving what they can. Because actually this character is kind of like a little sad. He was put together by junk and kind of torn between two people and is generally optimistic but like you know. He's made out of scraps. And he's still giving this wand. And both tarot cards kind of communication, providing some type of communication, providing innovation, giving information about something that can be used to create something. And the signs kind of also point to technology. And the elements happen to be water and fire so that technology could be related to those elements. And you know then that information if they come up with any kind of actual strategy could be used in other areas of the world that suffer from drought and fires like Africa apparently and South America

March

March is interesting because I don't always feel the need to reverse cards but it kind of happened that way and even an oracle was like that and then what came out with the last oracle card I got was release your blocks so it would make sense for cards to be reversed with that energy. With the fool, there's like this new start supposedly, I don't like taking risks, kind of acting on instinct. Again we have the Scorpio energy saying release your blocks. A reversed oracle card for transition that says while I sleep I move from the old to the new with great ease and then queen of wands is also reversed

It gives me the impression of a false start I guess. But the universe is pointing toward the advice which is release those blocks. How you're supposed to release those blocks I don't know. If transition is reversed and it talks about moving from the old to the new with great ease it sounds more like not being able to move into the new with great ease. The new being that full energy. So it's almost like either conservative old energy people get stuck to that and don't want to see change. Or there's not enough resources or energy to activate the change. Or the block itself is preventing the change

It's kind of sad because it sounds like there was really good energy going in February and maybe there were plans to change something or do whatever but I think something is preventing that in March. My instinct says it's going to be related to political gobbledygook and you know when they get all upset and then everything gets focused on the drama instead of change that would actually help anything

Having Scorpio here worries me just a little bit since again that's the sign of death and destruction and cycles of life. I'm sorry to say that I wonder if this might be a point when immigrants are deported in the US. Which is a pretty sad thing given that it's a lot of immigrants on the front lines at the LA fires helping out and bringing their own resources when it's really our own government that let us down to start

I say the government because we have the Queen of wands so we have like a ruling person, somebody of authority that might not have a great personality and might literally be a fool. Gosh, and I can't even say that's limited to just the US because there are a lot of fools who are at the head of various countries across the world right now.

Transition too feels literal... Any place where authority or political figures are going through a transition. But something about the whole energy feels off. This could be so many things. It could be like anything Rocky that happens during the beginning of a political transition. Whether it's in assassination attempt or someone just being a complete nut job and going off the rails.

It makes me a little wary so I don't know if you have some PTO and you can travel during March to escape any nut job political leaders, I would recommend it. In terms of personality if you had somebody that had this Queen of wands in reverse and a fool card I mean what would you expect. Somebody who might be like overly confident and egotistical but also an idiot who acts on impulse.

So I won't try to predict specific events but expect frustration I think. Expect drama. I keep seeing like reality TV playing in my head so it's going to be reality TV drama which is really not what we need at this juncture. And I'm still trying to figure out how this would follow the energy of February where it seems like everybody's trying to help and do their part and then it goes right back to square one in March. I also wonder if the car transition if there will be an attack on trans folks. So immigrants and trans people if might be criticized by well let's say conservative people or political people. Not a lot of progress happening in March. But please keep in mind it's just a guess based on my biases. I'm pretty socially liberal, or I don't really say socially the liberal I just don't see a single human life having more value than any other. Except when they you know are a horrible person. But as we are born, I don't see anybody being lesser or more based on any characteristic

April

As you can see with April, there seems to be additional conflict and maybe a lack of movement still. With the eight of swords, that's again that energy of being stuck, five of swords is conflict, two of swords being stuck with a choice or decision or indecisiveness. So maybe there's a lot of polarization happening in April as well. This isn't really surprising. The Oracle is ask for help I am willing to receive help from the universe whenever and however it happens which goes well with an eight of swords card because the traditional way to read that card is you know you're kind of caught in your own head and there is opportunity to like get out of it or escape but you don't, you kind of create your own worries. On a global level you know that can mean all kinds of things

My guess would be there is conflict and drama happening in the world and a lot of people get anxious and don't know what to do or feel stuck in a certain situation. There could even come some type of choice where it's like we go to war or we don't what do we do. This isn't specifically for the US this could be again anywhere across the globe. Maybe even Nations across the globe are going to be polarized because obviously we're seeing some very conservative people come into power not just in the US but other countries that make some very poor irrational decisions. And then we have other countries that aren't really like doing much to stand up to them. But even so, it almost feels like people will be split just like we were the first time Trump was President. At least that's how I can explain it. The US had already started to become polarized even before that in Obama's second term but guess what it's going to happen again to extreme levels

I could just be projecting too. But I mean like it's a lot of conflict cards, it's anxiety, it's indecisiveness and having to make a decision and two sides and then I put the Sagittarius card which says believe in your good luck in the reverse. So this also works with eight of swords right not believing in something or not feeling like something can be accomplished. Maybe a sense of hopelessness

On an individual level I want to talk about that and not just global because I feel compelled to talk about the energy in this month would mean like you might be in a certain scenario where you feel kind of stuck and you feel kind of rushed to make a decision but you're not sure you can pull something off or you don't have enough time and so you're worried about that. It actually makes sense for me because that's about the timing that if I move out of my current apartment, I would have to move out in March. I only have a week to give my apartment people notice because they want 2 months notice but I wasn't really considering moving until I realized that when I just got my lease renewal, usually they allow for like a lesser lease at the same cost and I kind of wanted to move out of where I'm currently at in the summer but they didn't have any short-term offerings this time. So I was like well if I have to sign a lease for that long I might as well move to a bigger place where I might go out more and like feel better where I can go walk and five steps away there's a coffee store or something

So on a microcosmic level, a lot of you might find yourself in these oh my gosh I have to make a decision really fast and I don't know what to do scenarios. Like your car breaks down and you're like oh my gosh do I repair it do I get a new car I wasn't expecting to do this. I feel like a lot of those unexpected little annoyances happening. I wonder if there's going to be a Mercury retrograde around that time because that's kind of what it feels like. But on a global scale, I also think we're going to be seeing things on the news that make us kind of anxious. I also think maybe some of us will be a little bit unlucky during this month. And I think maybe also you need to remember that when you are in a situation that sucks, to rely on support and ask for help when you need it

You may encounter situations where you feel like nobody is listening or paying attention and you could be crying in public on a bus and not a single person will ask you if you're okay. But I think if you ask the right people for help, you should be able to get it. And then in terms of the world, apply that to a wider net. There will be incidents across the world in which there's some type of conflict and people will need help. I know that's pretty vague... The only thing I can really look to in terms of trying to assess any specifics would be this two of swords which has all of the candy people and then there are shovels and stuff so this could be like a mudslide. They definitely look panicked and don't know what to do so they need to ask for help

Gosh this really feels morbid trying to come up with predictions but I do this with all the readings you know. Like and considering how the year has started how can you not expect bad things to keep happening. Granted people will be like well if you think about it that way of course they're going to happen. Yes I said that in a voice. Joe with the shovels, yeah I like mudslides or things that collapse like a landslide or whatever. There's a lot of sword energy here whereas the previous ones weren't really they were like so water focused right. So we now have like a lot of sword energy a lot of anxiety maybe like a lot of negative communication or media happening during this time. So people kind of have these visions in their head of catastrophe and bad things and I think that might overwhelm a lot of people.

It could be literally that the five of swords dude is doing bad things to eight of swords person. Like has trapped them there. Again that energy or that like imagery of being trapped or stuck which makes me think of a mind collapse or again a landslide mudslide situation people being stuck under debris and needing shovels and stuff to get them out

But this could actually be like a cause of the conflict in five of swords. For example like okay there's some type of fighting happening between these people over Petty reasons or whatever, the result is people being imprisoned or if it's like bombing people because someone goes to war and then these buildings collapse or it causes a landslide. This could be again I'm kind of projecting but like let's say there's conflict and then there's an internment camp, and then you see people being miserable in those internment camps or even like fighting to help those people in the internment camps

I also see the two of swords having a blindfold as being like some people don't want to see it or act like they aren't seeing what's happening. Even eight of swords also has a blindfold right and those are from two different decks and yet we have that same type of imagery of people being blindfolded and not seeing something which connects back to January doesn't it. So I wonder if some things that will be revealed in January will come back in April. And people will act like they don't see it. This could be like let's say someone is held accountable in the court and they're charged with XYZ and then whatever the government or a supreme Court is like I don't see it, I'm not going to do anything about it, we're going to pretend like nothing ever happened. So don't be surprised if people who should be accountable aren't held accountable

May

I'm depressing myself let's move on to May. So then you'll ask what's the point of this if it's just depressing? Well first of all let me tell you how the cards shuffled. After January it actually took a while to get cards to come out for February and March specifically and I was like what does that mean. And I wondered if you know I don't really believe the future is set in stone. I do think everything has already happened and we have like a final end game in the universe but at the same time I do think the future as it's in front of us is flexible or appears flexible. I have this whole theory when I was really into quantum physics over the summer that the tiniest things that make up the universe do allow for flexibility but anyway. So things that happen in January could actually determine things that happen in February or March

As in things could still change if people do something different but I don't really see how people can do things that much different when they don't know what's coming. But like it's still the universe is like well just in case. Just in case we need to switch up things at the last second here we have to like keep that in mind. And it's kind of interesting because then you could argue well free will has like this scientific backup. Like quantum stuff is science right, and I might sound insane to somebody who actually studies this very well but what I really got into it over the summer was like a lot of spiritual elements aligned with quantum physics and how how I perceived it. But like if there was such a thing as free will and the universe's set in stone because time is a social construct but also not really. Then the universe would have to allow for the possibility of change to something that is supposedly already set? Isn't that creepy and weird and interesting?

Okay so moving on. May.

So we have the four of cups again from the other deck and a king of cups and work through your feelings well doesn't that just apply perfectly to those two cards. We also have destiny my dreams show me that I am the true co-creator of My Life and destiny. That's interesting given the rant that I just went on about how we can create our own path because the universe allows it. And then change I embrace change in this new day and I adapt to what is to come. Also interesting cuz I just said some of those things. So I think whereas the previous month in April, things were kind of stuck. Things weren't really moving, change seemed scary, it looks like someone going through the process of accepting those feelings of change

Because the four of cups in this instance kind of shows me somebody who's like contemplating and doesn't really want to accept this cup which is probably the change and then we have the king of cups which is about you know emotional maturity and feelings and like doing the work with those feelings and literally the Oracle says work through your feelings. So you'll be working through your feelings in May, particularly related to changes in your life or changes in the world. Apply this individually to yourself and then think about how it can affect on a global scale. People trying to accept different changes that are happening in the world. This could be good or bad. Like how can we live life now with these negative things happening or it could be how can we live life now with any positive changes right

But either way the previous month I think you weren't ready to accept something or the world wasn't ready to accept something on a global scale and this month is about how can I live with what that change was good or bad, how can I keep progressing in this energy so working through all that. I think also it's saying that even in these times you can still make choices, you can go with the flow or you can go against it, but whatever you decide you know that's your choice and your right to make it because the universe allows it and I actually feel like for some of you for some people in the world or a lot of people they might be making choices that have a significant impact. Because to me I'm getting kind of like Libra vibes even though it's not here but like principles. This will be people deciding you know to make choices based on their principles like to take a stand or not

So that would make me think on a larger scale maybe people will be protesting or standing up against the government. It feels peaceful. Whereas the previous month there might have been some violence happening I don't know. So now we're back into almost that energy that was happening in February. But like a little jaded I guess. But still people trying to make the best of circumstances and figuring out what they can do. You know what's interesting when I looked at the work through your feelings which is an Aries card. Aries make me think of boldness and stuff but the actual imagery of the card reminds me of that moment in Arcane when jinx puts up the flare

Kiss your perfect day gooodbyyye

Regardless of her character's choices, she was making them based on principles a lot of the time so again I think you'll see people standing up and protesting whatever is happening at this time and basically trying to figure out what side they're on and what they want to stand for and be known for etc

Do I have to give specifics? I don't see much to work with. It could start in New York and again I'm biased because I'm American but like the the person holding the thing kind of vaguely reminds me of the Statue of Liberty. So you could see protests in New York in particular. I can't tell what she's actually holding because I don't have my glasses on. But it looks blue and it looks like a light or it could be flowers or a balloon

It could be an army bomb? Anyway for people I think there will be significant changes and choices that happen in May. Given that the previous month it almost felt like people were going to have to choose a side and then the next month while people have chosen aside. This could be about an election. But it could just be a cultural thing and people picking sides. Other specifics well when we put the meaning of the king of cups aside and we just consider the character who like was taking advantage of his power, this could be another indicator of this being related to like somebody who's a bit of a dictator and maybe not really in touch with their emotions or not really listening to what other people have to say or feel but full disclosure it's very likely I'm also projecting

But probably not wrong

June

You would think June would be a good month. BTS is coming back. Something I'm looking forward to.

There's a lot happening in June. We have nine of cups potentially reversed, judgment, nine of pentacles. We have purpose my dreams connect me to my purpose, growth I challenge myself to step outside of my comfort zone as I travel on the road to growth and illumination, and then trust all will be well New Moon in Virgo

That is a lot to unpack. So we have a goal that seems to be blocked if the nine of cups is reversed. We have judgment, which in theory is actually nice spiritual card where it's sort of like the death card in that you have some type of Awakening or calling I guess. Which fits with purpose. So you might be awoken awoken awoken to a certain calling. What does the calling have to do with well let's look at the other cards nine of pentacles has to do with self-improvement, self-care, independent or kind of a financial success. Like if somebody owned their own business and did well, this is a good card for that. But like egg selling in work kind of like hitting your flow and being in the groove. This could be then

In terms of like your purpose as a job or hobby. Because with the pentacles I think of something more like physically tangible so this is purpose and relation to work or things that you can actually do.

But to me the last 3 months work well in secession right, because we were at okay people need to decide what side they want to be on and feel kind of stuck and conflict is happening, then we have people at the place where they can make that decision, now we have okay we've made the decision where do we go from now and how can I apply this to my purpose and how can I like move forward

I don't see complete momentum so I wonder if in July we would see more of that or we're just in the phase of working toward some type of action. Because there's a goal, there's a calling, there's a purpose, but it's sort of like not been completely formed or decided yet at this point. But I see you working on it or working to get there. And it would feel very close. And even this saying trust all will be well sort of makes me feel like the venture hasn't completely started yet. But I think you'll see even more clearly what things you experienced in the last 3 months or whatever up to this June, what the purpose was or your you'll start to see the results of effort that you've putting in over the last few months. It's giving like a manifestation vibe

Because from the outside I'm seeing you or the collective putting the effort in from March to June to kind of come to terms with changes that are happening around you, that like there's conflict, there's this difficult decision that you have to make, you don't really know what to do and then you have to like put the work into making that decision of what side you want to stand on and who you want to be, and then you kind of come to terms with what that all means and where you want to go from now on as that person

And maybe this is mostly a conscious thing like you're aware of these things happening and for others you know on instinct and maybe they're just going to choose a side or principal or whatever Justice path they want to follow and all of the sudden they're at a place where like oh this is my life now this is who I am. And I wonder if something surprising is going to happen in those months for people to be like so anxious and shocked. Like you know everybody goes through like who am I and why am I here but this feels like a very abrupt transformation. Almost like you see something so incredible and so jarring and you're left struggling with that for March and April or whatever right and then you just have to accept it and come to terms with it

I don't know what this is and I don't want to guess but like let me just use the worst example possible like 9:11. I know for some that's not going to be the worst example but in terms of picking an example in general it's not a great example but that's something where once you saw the planes hit the towers like there was the you before you saw that and the you after. And life wasn't that same. I think people call that what like a timeline shift. Not exactly that but that's kind of what it feels like. So I wonder if something so significant and jarring happens during those months that people just like have this shift like that in their life. And like we've seen tragedies happen over the last month and a half the last year, Gaza and so on, and this is like people being blind to something and then having to face the reality of something huge

And obviously images from Gaza aren't going to be enough to change people, or the images from LA, or like people being beheaded by whatever terrorist or men with PTSD blowing themselves up in front of a building. Those things should be jarring, but this feels like on another level. Like something extreme happening which maybe would happen in March or April, that people will not be able to look away from although they want to. It does it feels like the acceptance of something so big that you are shaken up and then you have to like reconcile how you are going to live after this event. Maybe I'm exaggerating, maybe it's just like a lot of awful things on the news and you just kind of have to reconcile that but I guess in my mind it would feel like it would be a significant event of tragic proportions that you just everybody has the same feeling of disgust for. Even though that will probably never happen because if you look back at the Holocaust there were people who clearly let that happen and wanted it to happen

But overall, a specific image or event that can be broadcast and everybody sees it and everybody collectively goes that's disgusting what are we going to do, what side am I going to pick

But again I'm a skeptic and a pessimist so it might be something at a lower level than like a huge catastrophic event. For me it doesn't feel like just a natural disaster, it would be more politically related I guess. Like North Korea doing something crazy or Russia doing something crazy or the US doing something crazy or some other type of extremist doing something crazy.

What else can I kind of combine that's actually showing we also have two nines. So June 9th can be significant. The number nine. Virgo is here as well so this can be something related to September. I didn't mean to bring up the 9/11 thing and then talk about September. But Virgo also represents health, it can be about details and such, so again this could be related to a plan of some kind, this whatever event could have an impact on people's health. When I see the judgment cards it also like gives me the Willies because it's like people popping out of the graves so it also gives me like this feeling of death

And for some reason the nine of coins is giving me the creeps... like one person doing something bad. I don't know maybe that Luigi guy will go on trial in June or some other person of that nature will be on trial during this time as well

On a smaller scale just like individual energy if you can stick your head in your sand and ignore everything that's going around, I would think these cards are talking about a goal related to work or school or studies or a hobby or something, and waiting on like a decision for something related to that. Like a raise or a promotion or graduating and what have you, there could even be a last minute hitch in those plans. Like a rescheduling of something or some paperwork doesn't come through but in theory whatever this is would leave to some type of individual growth for you, financially or work related. It feels like you're waiting on some type of decision to be made for that and that it would be something you really want to do

Like there's a lot of interest here in I really want to pursue that and I have to like wait to be accepted into this program or I have to wait for somebody to determine if I can have that promotion. It might be that like you want to do a thing and you get sick at the last minute or something goes wrong with the details right the paperwork. Because that's what Virgo is about. Like there's just this little hitch that happens at the end. Like for example if you're traveling make sure that whatever name you use to buy the tickets matches your passport. Stuff like that. Also I wanted to talk that travel will probably happen for you during June because the growth card mentions that

Some of you may be going to see some type of concert like traveling to a concert as well because also when I see the judgment card I think of music because of the horn. But again it's like maybe the concert will get canceled or postponed but maybe not. Maybe it will be fine and you'll get to go to the concert but like you're in the process of working toward that goal like saving up the money for it or getting the time off things like that. That's on the smaller scale. On the larger scale, people are being called to come to terms with their purpose. Something has been building up from January to May to provide you with growth and make you think about things and change your perspective about certain things. And that will attribute to something happening in your future. I know that's vague but like I don't know the future man not everything has to be bad and life keeps going on no matter what

So yes in June there are some indulgences like going to a concert or going out in general and feeling good about yourself how you look and maybe even splurging on things, self-care related to health like getting massages and that kind of thing. I see a lot of self-care happening for people during this month like a focus on health. Maybe there will even be like a global thing that puts the spotlight on mental health for June. Okay that's about as far as I want to go. I hope that wasn't too depressing? And then I will do the second part at some point. I'm going to New York this weekend so I should get it done before then but if I don't well yeah.

And hopefully I'm wrong on a lot of these calls but honestly like with 2025, my gut feeling is a lot of trepidation and expectation for some bad stuff.

[beardedmrbean]

Bird feathers and bloodstains were found in both engines of the Jeju Air plane that crashed in December, according to a preliminary investigation released Monday.

The Boeing 737-800 was flying from Thailand to Muan in South Korea on December 29 when it crash landed and exploded into a fireball after slamming into a concrete barrier.

It was the worst aviation disaster on South Korean soil, killing 179 of the 181 passengers and crew.

South Korean and American investigators are still probing the cause of the disaster, with a bird strike, faulty landing gear and the runway barrier among the possible issues.

Both engines recovered from the crash site were inspected, and bird bloodstains and feathers were "found on each", the report said.

"The pilots identified a group of birds while approaching runway 01, and a security camera filmed HL8088 coming close to a group of birds during a go-around," the report added, referring to the Jeju jet's registration number.

It did not specify whether the engines had stopped working in the moments leading up to the crash.

After the air traffic control tower cleared the jet to land, it advised the pilots to exercise caution against potential bird strikes at 8:58 am, the report said. Just a minute later, both the voice and data recording systems stopped functioning.

Seconds after the recording systems failed, the pilots declared mayday due to a bird strike and attempted a belly landing.

The Jeju plane exploded in flames when it collided with a concrete embankment during its landing, prompting questions about why that type barricade was in place at the end of the runway.

Last week, authorities said they would replace such concrete barriers at airports nationwide with "breakable structures".

The captain had over 6,800 flight hours, while the first officer had 1,650 hours, according to the report. Both were killed in the crash, which was survived only by two flight attendants.

[jacksonscouts]

It's good to be back, Scouts! Find a spot on a log and check out this fluffy fic from our wonderful Scout, @sixhours! It's from her series called "Happy Birthday, Baby Girl."

They take a right from the tower and hike deeper into the forest toward the sound of running water. The stream sparkles in the last of the evening sun as they settle on the embankment with their fishing rods.

Joel shows her how to dig into the soft parts of the soil for worms to use as bait (gross, but cool), how to wind them around the hook and stab them to secure them (just gross), and how to cast the line so it doesn’t get tangled in the brush on the side of the bank (nearly impossible).

After a few minutes, Ellie shifts from one foot to the other. “Now what?”

“We wait. If you feel a bite on the line, start to reel it in.”

They do. She holds the pole and she waits. And waits. And–

She slaps at a mosquito on her neck, then another one on her arm. Her nose itches and her hair tickles her ears. She recasts the line when it bobs and drifts too far, reeling it back in, watching as Joel does the same.

“So how long does this usually take?” she says when she’s cast for the fifth time and felt absolutely nothing. She watches the bobber drift along with the current. The sun has dropped behind the trees, taking most of the heat out of the air.

“Long as it takes.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Gonna take even longer if you keep yappin’ and scarin’ the fish away.”

She rolls her eyes, mimicking him. “‘Yappin’ n’ scarin’ the fish away.’”

He side-eyes her, but his cheek twitches the way it does when he’s trying not to laugh at one of her puns.

“Did you used to fish a lot?”

“When I was a kid, mostly. Old man took us out once in a while.”

“So…early Jurassic period?”

“Yep,” he says easily. “Rode my dinosaur to the lake n’ back.”

“Har har,” she says, swatting at a mosquito that’s buzzing around her left ear. “I just thought there’d be, more, y’know…fish.”

“I liked it about as much as you do, at the time. Never caught much,” he grimaces, reeling in his line and casting it again. “Think the old man just liked gettin’ away from our mama so he could get shitfaced in peace.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Wholesome.”

“Not the word I’d use. Anyway, spent more time pushin’ Tommy in the lake than I did catchin’ fish.”

Now that sounds like fun. “Can I push you in if we don’t catch anything?”

“You can try,” he smirks.

More time passes. Ellie shifts on her feet and swats at more mosquitos, trying and failing to imagine Joel as a kid.

“Man…I wanna ride a dinosaur,” she sighs.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, but he’s smiling.

Then there’s a distinct tug on her line, so forceful and surprising she almost lets the whole contraption go.

“Joel!”

“What?”

“It’s…it’s going! What the fuck do I do?”

“Well don’t panic,” he says, setting his pole down carefully, wedging it between two large rocks. “Hold on, kid, I gotcha.”

“It’s probably a fucking boot or something,” Ellie says, holding the pole back with both hands to keep it steady, unable to reel in whatever is on the other end for fear of losing her grip.

“Dunno about that. It’s movin’. Here,” he says, offering a hand over hers to support the pole while she switches to turning the reel, the tension growing with each turn.

“Good job, not too fast or the line’ll snap,” Joel says. “Sometimes ya just gotta let ‘em run with it a little, wear ‘em out.”

Soon she can see the silvery green-red fish thrashing at the surface of the water.

“Holy shit!”

“Lookit that,” he grins, helping her lift the fish out of the water by the line as it writhes and flails. “Guess you get to eat tonight.”

She can’t help but be a little disappointed when she gets a good look at the result of her efforts. She’d been picturing a monster fish given how strong it had been, but the thing isn’t even a foot long.

“I thought it was gonna be a fuckin’ shark.”

“Sometimes the little ones fight the hardest,” he says softly, and she’s glad the fading light hides her blush. She’s pretty sure he’s not just talking about the stupid fish.

He puts the poor creature out of its misery by smashing its head with a rock, then promises to show her how to gut and filet the slimy, scaly thing once they’re back at camp. She silently vows to try a bite even if the thought turns her stomach.

“You gonna try again?” he asks.

She does, digging up a fresh worm and re-baiting her hook while Joel goes back to his line. By the end of the hour, they’ve caught two more trout and Ellie’s stomach is growling.

“Better than fishing with your old man?” she asks on the trek back to camp.

He huffs a soft laugh. ”Yeah, kiddo. Much better.”

[paperandsong]

Les Trois Hommes de Pierre

From Légendes rustiques, illustrated by Maurice Sand, written by George Sand, 1858

Original French at Project Gutenberg

English translation:

It is said that certain individuals of this stupid species shout to late-night passers-by: “You’d like to have arms? You’d like to have arms?” If one is foolish enough to answer “Yes,” they go on to demand: “Then give us your legs!” And since they have the power of casting spells, one must then stay there with them for just as long as they please. One clever fellow, withdrawing in fear, thought to say to them instead: “Take my legs, if you’d like; for they are dead.” -- They could not respond to this, and the man was able to escape their spell.

-       Maurice Sand.

In the Indre region, bordering the river Creuse, the very look of Nature changes; the valleys nestle downwards, the plateaus rise, the vegetation shoots upwards, the waters rush, and the steep embankments bristle with rocks. While traditions and legends are more rare in this picturesque region than they are in the plains, they are also generally sad; and, except for what pertains to Gargantua, I did not find within them that background of Berry-style humour which so often mixes irony with the terrors of the fantastical world.

As I have referenced Gargantua, I must now ask anyone knowledgeable about this matter whether, before the publication of the Book (for this is how, I believe, people referred to that singular, great, and wild literary success of Rabelais during their time), there was not also some popular legend of Gargantua in the provinces which the great satirist might have seized upon, just as Goethe did the legend of Faust and Molière the legend of the Commander’s Statue. Was the phrase the Book used by Rabelais’ contemporary admirers exclusively in order to express their great admiration? Might it not also indicate that a distinction was to be drawn between his brilliant poem and some more obscure legend? The ogres Perrault brought back into fashion are those very same giants whom the knights slaughtered in the Middle Ages. Would Gargantua not be of the same family as them, and would his name not have been noticed by the author of Pantagruel right alongside those other once-famous characters who are now long forgotten for having only existed as the late-night tales of our ancestors? 

In Berry, where no historical traditions have remained in the collective memory of the peasant except as vague myths, we were more than surprised to still encounter there a very precise sort of local recollection of Gargantua quite separate from Rabelais’ poem, although in the same vein. At Montlevic, for example, a small isolated knoll in the plain was formed by the foot of Gargantua. Whilst lost in these clay-rich lands of ours, the giant shook his hoof here, and left a hill in that spot.

And on the Creuse, in the outskirts of Berry, Gargantua was once found [9] astride that vast and magnificent ravine where the river rushes between the bell towers of Pin and Ceaulmont, planting himself in their steep cliff sides. A small boat full of monks drew up to pass between the giant’s legs. Believing it was a trout darting away, he bent down, plucked up the ship in two fingers, and swallowed it whole, finding the monks big and fat but rejecting the boat itself, complaining about the fishbone. 

Anyone who tells you such stories has certainly never read the Book, nor did their ancestors even know of its existence. The name of Rabelais is just as unknown to them as those of Pantagruel and Panurge. Brother Jean des Entomeures, so renowned for his character and for his use of speech, did not achieve widespread popularity amongst them either. These fictional personalities are the work of the poet, but I would still believe that Gargantua is the work of the people and that, like all great artists, Rabelais took his subject matter where he found it.

The superstitions within the villages and cottages of the Creuse region in lower Berry do acknowledge the giants, who, by contrast, occupy little place in the chronicles of the high country. This high country is wide-open and rolling; the low country, which is steep and ravined, is rooted in the same rock which serves as a buttress for the escarpments of the land. Its strangely-shaped stony cliffs of mica and schist might easily resemble gigantic figures, and this fact must be far from laughable to any fisherman who goes out in bad faith to lift their colleagues’ traps at night. It is not the merry Gargantua who appears to him: it is the three men of stone, whom in the daytime he would call the monk’s rocks, and whom he had seen standing motionless alongside the clear water’s edge, without fear.

One night Chauvat, coming back from the low country mill, saw them move, coming down from their huge pedestal and walking along the shore, gesticulating; oh but what horrible gestures, what a terrifying parade they made! They seemed to have neither feet nor legs, and yet they moved faster than the waters of the Creuse, and the pebbles they crushed cried out under their weight. He fled to his house and barricaded himself inside as best he could; but the men of stone had followed him, and as he was an unbeliever who didn’t think of giving himself up to God, the smallest of these colossi leaned his elbow on the gable of the house, flattening it like a pat of butter.

The terrified Chauvat then fled to his barn; but the second of the stone men put his hand on it, splitting it into four as though it were an old Huguenot in the land of Bazaiges.

Chauvat had enough time to save himself, and he sought refuge on the great lock which cuts the river diagonally from one side to the other. There, he believed himself saved; but the three men of stone took this path to return to their usual place on the other bank, and he found himself forced either to stay there or to throw himself into the river, which is very deep on either side of the lock; to run faster than the giants was out of the question.

He made himself very small, not daring to breathe, crouching down on the ground and hoping that those wicked boulders would not see him there. The first passed by; then came the second, who also passed by. Chauvat began to breathe again. Finally there came the third, who was the largest and heaviest by far, and who tried to pass by along with the others. But the road was slippery and the stone man slipped.

Fortunately, Chauvat finally remembered his baptism and made the sign of the cross, asking for the assistance of Heaven. The man of stone stumbled yet did not fall, otherwise the poor fisherman would have been crushed like an eggshell.

The returned are, in this same part of Berry, very frequent guests. Few houses here are not haunted by some soul in pain. That rushing river Creuse, which runs black and rapid in certain deep spots where it flows without any impediment, carries along the plaintive spirits of people who have met their deaths beneath its waves. At night, we hear heartbreaking cries; these are the drowned, who wail and ask for prayers. Elsewhere, it foams and rumbles against the rocks; there, one hears the imprecations of those who are unpardonably damned.

The term le retournant (the returned) carries a similar meaning to revenant. However, some old women will tell you that the souls of those lost to suicide  (those who intentionally drowned) are condemned to the eternal task of tumbling over the large stones that clutter the torrential riverbed. In the middle of a certain waterfall in the Creuse, one of these dark rocks looks so much like a capsized boat that you could easily be fooled from afar. It is an overturned stone: we assure you that it is white on its underside, and also that it was brought there from a long way away by the returned.

These legends undoubtedly hearken back to the tragic memories of disasters caused by the river’s sudden and terrible floods. In 1845, a great deluge of rain swelled the tributaries of the river such that the Creuse, which was itself already a formidable torrent in this region, rose by what is said to be more than one hundred feet, pulling an entire recently-felled forest into its shores. Upon reaching the only bridge in the countryside, this travelling forest stopped for two hours, jammed between the two steep riverbanks, and this mass was subsequently compounded by other masses of roofs, boats, barriers, and general debris of every other kind, and fearless children travelled from one riverbank to the other on dry feet atop this floating mountain above the raging waves. All of a sudden the mountain burst forwards, carrying the bridge that had held it back, and sweeping away everything in its path: houses, herds, crops, and passers-by.

Yet even the memory of this disaster was not enough to fully populate the banks and islets of the terrible river with its sorrowful souls. There is also a faint legend of a clash between salt smugglers and salt-tax collectors, during the time when titled and bourgeois men were moving mules laden with contraband salt along the steep valley paths. The official history of Berry says nothing about this battle. The old peasants heard this story told by their fathers, who got it from their grandfathers. Many people perished there, they say, and were thrown from the rocks into the Creuse. That’s why we hear, on bad nights, unfamiliar voices who cry out over and over again: Salt! Salt! At this cry, all the mules in nearby pastures will run away with their ears down and their tails between their legs, as if the Devil is after them.

In this same region, the belief in the great serpent reawakens from time to time. We don’t mind the thousands of rock-dwelling vipers, which are said to have never harmed anyone; but this serpent, which is forty feet in length and has a head like that of a man, is the one that concerns us. It is probably the same one who ate three prisoners in the Châteaubrun tower dungeon in ancient times. He has shown himself several times since then, and last year, in 1857, the whole countryside was in turmoil because a shepherdess saw him in a bush. More than fifty hunters went out on foot looking for him; but, as usual, he could not be found.

George SAND

[patsscarystories]

09/01/2024

part 2

An hour and a half had passed before the chopper finally touched down. Elvin grabbed his weapon and hopped off the chopper to stretch his legs and survey the surroundings. They had landed in a small, overgrown field surrounded by a dense forest. Even in the dark, Elvin could see how trees towered above them like Manhattan skyscrapers. The ground was covered in dense foliage that obscured the way forward. Elvin didn’t even know where to begin to look for anything in there. Sherman stepped out of the chopper at last. He was carrying a special device with him. 

“We’ll start walking east until we reach a creek, then we walk up it until we reach ‘the formation’, ” Sherman said.

“Is that a tracker?” Elvin asked. 

“Yep, It’s state-of-the-art and can track down any monster in the area that’s been marked,” Sherman said.  

“Ooh! Can we see?” Johnny asked sarcastically.

“No, it’s for my eyes only.” Sherman led the party into the foliage in single file. Elvin followed behind Julio at the back of the formation. As the group trudged through the foliage, the sound of cicadas and the occasional hoot of an owl could be heard in the distance.

But Elvin wasn’t paying attention to any natural sounds, he was more concerned about not getting scratched up by stray branches and not being stung by prickly plants. The hike through the brush was grueling but they eventually reached a clearing. 

“God damn” Elvin exclaimed as he looked at how much of his uniform was covered in stickers.

“Not a fan of stickers ay?” Julio asked.

“Who is?”

“Don’t worry mi hijo, when we’re done with this mission, I’ll show you the best way to get stickers out of these uniforms.”

“You promise?”

“Si! And we can down a bottle of tequila to celebrate a job well done!” The two rushed to catch up with the rest of the squad. They had just reached the creek when Sherman pulled the device back out. 

“Alright, we’ll head up the opposite way that the creek is flowing. ” The men began their hike against the current. The trek through the creek was easier than the journey through the foliage, but it wasn’t a cakewalk either. The creek got deeper and wider the further the group hiked. Elvin’s uniform was soaked up to his chest in the nearly ice-cold water.

Everyone had to hold their weapons high to prevent them from getting waterlogged. The creek eventually became more shallow and easier to walk through, but Elvin was freezing from the chest down. Sherman then stopped everyone and looked to the right-hand side of the river. There appeared to be a group of large boulders stacked on top of each other. It was a peculiar sight to behold. 

“Alright, we’ll get out here and continue east,” Sherman said. Julio helped Elvin climb up the small embankment that led out of the river. 

“Did we have to wade through there? I’m freezing!” Elvin said.

[lappel-de-la-verite]

POST #001 — “BURN PATTERN: NONSTANDARD”

All footage in this report is first-person braindance capture. No outside edits. No overlays. What you see is what I saw.

“They called for help. No one came.”

The signal repeated every 16 seconds—compressed audio packet, medevac priority, flagged red. I found it scraping across damaged relay towers along the eastern fringe of the Old Combat Zone. The kind of place you send no one, unless you don’t want them coming back.

No official dispatch. No acknowledgements. According to Trauma Team's logs, the call doesn’t exist. So I went myself.

The convoy was there. Burnt, torn, partially embedded in a concrete embankment. Medical gear half-detonated, trauma foam still spraying weakly from a ruptured canister. And something else—markings scorched into the hull in a pattern I didn't recognize. Like claw scoring... or ritual etching. Maybe both.

The braindance shows it at 01:44—scratches too precise to be accident.

Inside: melted chrome. One ID badge still intact, tagged to a senior Trauma tech. Most of the crew were missing. No bodies. But plenty of blood. A dragged trail leading out, where pavement was warped under something heavy... or hot.

At 02:14, you’ll catch the first movement. Humanoid. But twisted. Overlength arms. Metal spine segments too dense for standard structure. Skin sheened like obsidian plating. This wasn’t chrome from any ripperdoc I’ve seen. This was bodysculpting—and not the flashy kind. The kind you whisper about. Experimental. Predatory. Draconic.

Then the voice at 02:47, over my comm intercept: “They’re not human. I repeat, they’re not—” Signal cuts.

What happened here wasn’t gang violence. It wasn’t bad wiring or AV failure. This was meant to be a rescue. But when the rescue failed, they made sure no one would ask why.

Trauma Team, when questioned, labeled the transmission "training data." Their spokesdrone ended the call after 6 seconds.

The braindance is live. Sequence includes approach, internal footage, and enhanced audio. [🔗 BD-Archive-001: “Burn Pattern: Nonstandard”] (Encrypted. Playback may cause mild signal drift or disorientation in low-end neural rigs. This is the first public archive in this format—adjust your viewer settings accordingly. Strong stomach recommended.)

[faegoddessog]

Woman in Red Ch 12/17

Chapter 12: Jovan and Podgorica

Series Summary: She's a very successful woman who can't seem to find a partner that can keep up with her. He is just wanting to find someone who likes him for HIM, not his fame. Neither of them are prepared for what hits them when she walks into that coffee shop.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ only, just discussion of sex, oh and some like kissing and a lil' submissiveness, and maybe a lil' jealousy. (I had get all 'author's craft' and put some character development and set up in there, I know... so weird. But let me say.. Chapter 13 will put you in heat.)

A/N: In this story, I make no mention of birth control or condoms or STI's. Please, darlings, please love yourself enough to protect yourself appropriately when you have sex. <3

Message me or leave in a comment if you'd like to be added or removed from my tagged list!

@purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

Here is the Woman in Red Masterlist

Here is the link to all my posted work: My Dirty Little, and not so little Stories.

Chapter 12: Jovan and Podgorica

They are walking the next day in the city of Podgorica. Aya had seemed rushed, though she tried to play it off as excitement. 

“The driver is already waiting,” she had said, while he finished breakfast, “it’s an hour away, let's get going!” 

He wasn’t sure why they were driving over an hour to the big city, but heck he was always up for seeing new places. 

‘What Aya wants, Aya gets,’ he had chuckled to himself as he tied his shoes. 

For the capital, it’s not that big of a city. It’s also not that big of a country, Austin reasons. Aya tells the driver to drop them off the south side of the Old Ribnica River Bridge. 

Austin is wary as they drive through an urban residential area, past old white plaster and stone work houses close together. They pass old crumbling walls then down a narrow alley like street with a mish mash of graffiti clearly done by rebellious teenagers on one corner and a Mosque on the other. Finally the road ends at a dirt turn around on what looks like a vacant lot. There are mounds of stacked stone just there as though no one actually cares that they are ancient ruins. Four or five dumpsters tagged with spray paint are the only witnesses of their arrival. Bits of the city can be seen through the line of trees at the far edge. This looks like a place that you might be taken to in the boot of car and not return from. Austin turns to look at Aya with concern. 

“Oh come on, live a little,” she says with a wink, getting out of the car. “I’ll text when and where,” she says to the driver. 

She excitedly traipses down a narrow, nearly hidden trail, lined with weeds and bits of trash. She looks completely out of place in her tailored linen trousers and off the shoulder button down. Her wedge sandals are completely not made for this. He looks at the driver who shrugs as though he’s seen her do this a hundred times. Austin hurries after her, feeling dubious. 

The trail opens up almost immediately onto a paved path that was hidden by the weeds.  He immediately breathes a sigh of relief as they turn a corner around what looks to be an old ruined tower and he sees the wide manicured steps leading down to an old stone footbridge. It spans a tributary only a few feet from its confluence with the mainstem below. What looks like a courtyard with what once was a fountain is on this side of the bridge, the embankment opposite is a tangle of stone walls,  foliage, layered rock and hollows. It feels like a set piece from The Labyrinth, apart from the traffic and city noises. 

“You had me worried there for a minute,” he says, coming up behind her. 

“Have I steered you wrong yet?” she says with a wink and a smile. 

Hand in hand,  they cross the bridge and wind their way up the hill. They pop out on a busy street. They walk a few blocks, passing the Montenegrin National Theatre, which  makes Austin perk up. 

“I think they haven’t started their season yet,” she says when he asks about going, “besides, last time I was there, I ended up getting caught being naughty in the coat closet. I’m not sure I’m welcome anymore,” she giggles as they passed.  

They walk the tree lined streets. They pass a few restaurants and art galleries. The architecture is pretty simple and at times brutalist, echoing its past.  There are a few shops to check out, but nothing fancy. Austin is wondering what it was about here that made Aya want to come so badly. 

They round the corner and find a loose crowd of people around what looks like a construction site on an empty lot. There is a mix of people in business attire, general random people, men in construction clothes and press. Austin makes to cross the street, away from the cameras.  Without a word, Aya takes him by the hand and threads her way around to the leading edge of the crowd. There is a podium and a microphone and a few clean, new shovels.  It seems to be some sort of ground breaking ceremony.  As if on cue,  a man steps up and begins a short speech. 

Not speaking Montenegrin or Serbian, Austin has no idea what is being said, but Aya seems to understand at least some. Standing next to her, he can’t help but stare at her thinking of how he couldn’t resist her if she drew him into a coat closet. He starts wondering if there are any errant closets near when he hears, “Hvala Aya Glascoc!” 

She hands him her purse and winks, then walks the handful of steps to the podium before he knows what is happening.  She shakes the man’s hand, speaking a few words to him. They turn, smiling, to the crowd as camera shutters snap. She steps back and someone hands her a hardhat and a shovel.  As though she had done it a million times, she shoves the tip into the ground and with her sandaled foot, drives the blade in, leveraging the dirt up, the crowd claps.  She kisses her hand and waves. There are a few more photos and she rejoins Austin, a couple people shaking her hand on the way.  Austin is just stunned, standing there holding her bag. Well, at least he knew why she needed to come to the city today. 

……………

“Ok,” he says, once they are sitting down. “Confession time.”

She and Austin had slipped away, hard hat, shovel and all. She had been evasive answering his questions, telling him she was hungry and needed to eat and that she knew the perfect little place. 

“Oh” she says, chin on her fist and leaning in, “what do you have to confess, is it dirty?” her eyes sparkle with mischief. 

“No,” he chuckles, “what just happened?” 

“Oh, this is my favorite little place, I always come here when I’m in Podgorica so they know me,” she evades with a giggly smile. She knows what he means. She just is shy of the subject.

They had walked into the adorable little cafe tucked away behind a nearby park. It was all stonework and plants and a massive vaulted skylight inside.  Aya had been greeted loudly with hugs, before they were seated.  

“That’s not what-” he begins.

“Aya!!!” A man, younger and handsome, walks in big strides to the table with arms wide. She jumps up and he bends his muscular form around her and plants a hefty kiss on Aya’s lips. Her hand cups his cheek in familiarity as she returns the kiss in kind. It was the kiss of someone who knew her intimately and lasted a little too long, in Austin’s opinion.  

Her eyes sparkle as she leans back, speaking in the lilting mix of what sounds like Italian and Russian to his actor's ear. The man’s hands lingers around her waist,  holding her tightly to him.  Austin smiles tightly as he is introduced as ‘my friend Jovan’ by Aya.

“Zdravo! Nice to meeting you.  I welcome all friends to Aya,” the man says in a loud voice, his English only slightly questionable. He takes his hand from Aya’s waist to extend it out to Austin, still pressing his body to hers. He shakes the man’s hand politely. He finds that he isn’t fond of the casual intimacy between the two, even when they step apart. 

Aya and the dark haired man continue talking for a few minutes in a mix of Montenegrin and English, her hand lingering on the man’s arm. Austin watches the exchange trying to keep his face neutral, but  twirling the ring he wore on his finger in agitation. He wishes that the table was not in the way so he could step closer to Aya and let this overly intimate man know he was more than just ‘friends to Aya’. 

Fuck, but is he? More than just a fuck buddy to her? The thought tightens his chest on the way to his gut, souring in his stomach. He takes a couple breaths, trying to manage what he is feeling. 

‘Calm down, you have no right to be jealous,’ he reminds himself. But he admits, it’s exactly what he’s feeling. 

Jovan walks from the table to the back of the restaurant saying  “I take care of you! You will not pay!”  

“You know I will Jovan!” she fires back. 

Austin shoots her a questioning look, pointing his thumb after the man. He doesn’t yet trust himself to speak. 

“That’s Jovan, it’s his restaurant,” Aya’s grin is ear to ear. “We fight every time over whether or not I will pay.   He is the reason I know any Montenegrin at all. Oh and this is his wife, Jelena, she always lets me pay!” She gets up and hugs the young woman that comes around the corner. 

The second Aya says ‘his wife’, the tightness in Austin’s chest lessens. Her eyes go wide when she is introduced to Austin, who stands up and shakes her hand with a big smile. 

“Wait, you are the Elvis, da?” she says in thickly accented english. 

“Yes Ma’am, that was me,” he slips into the accent unknowingly as he smiles shyly and nods. 

Family is called over, selfies are taken, autographs signed and the declaration that ‘you are family now!” is made. 

Jovan brings out the rakija and pours a tiny glass for everyone.  They toast with shouts of  Živjeli!  Jovan grabs the back of Austin’s head and plants a kiss on his cheek. It’s jarring, but Austin’s  Fan Mode is on so he keeps his cool. It’s helpful to know that Jovan treats everyone like he wants to sleep with them.

“He’s uh,” Austin blows out a breath when they settle down, wine in hand.

“Alot, I know,” she reaches over and brushes the back of his hand soothingly, “but at least he is joyful.” 

“He taught you Montenegrin, eh?” Austin asks, flipping his hand over to let her fingers dally in his palm. 

“Uh huh” she sips her wine, giving him a knowing look, drawing circles with her fingertips. 

“Oh really?” Austin tries to play cool, but feels the jealousy creep back in. His hand closes on hers, not exactly possessive. 

“Do you really want to know?” Aya asks, squeezing his hand. 

Austin blinks, “I don’t ask questions that I don’t want to know the answers to.” His hand slackens against hers. 

“Jovan was one of my more enthusiastic paramours here, until he fell in love with Jelena and got married," she says matter of factly. "He taught me to speak what little Montenegrin I know and I taught him how to make a woman orgasm six ways to Sunday,” she stares into his ocean eyes,  tracing the veins up his wrist. 

She had been at the wedding last year and had given them an enormous amount of money, enough to purchase the comfortable home they lived in. She was pretty sure that Jelena knew that the reason she enjoyed such a satisfying marriage bed was because of her. 

Austin nods, takes a breath, shivering at her touch. He laughs, looking down at her hand, feeling the weirdest conflict he’d ever felt.  It was one thing to talk about exes, and another to run into them, another still to get hugs and kisses and be called ‘part of the family’. Yet how is it that she can make talking about her ex-lovers such a fucking turn on.  Aya was an enigma. 

“I bet you did,” his voice is breathy as his fingers do their own dance on her wrist. “Thanks for being honest about it,” he says, trying to find equilibrium. 

Jovan brings out the first course, winking knowingly at Austin.

“You lucky, Aya is magic,” he says under his breath to Austin, “She teach me so good, Jelena could no refuse,” He winks conspiratorially. 

Austin just nods and smiles, possessiveness welling up again. 

The food is so delicious. Austin watches the interplay between Aya and Jovan drop to being casual and he starts to calm. 

“Ok Aya, let me try again,” Austin says as they finish the first course, “What was all that with the ground breaking?” he goes for the direct question instead of trying to be amusing. 

“Ah yes,” she dabs her mouth with the napkin, “I was a donor for the new building, part of my philanthropy. They asked me to come to the ceremony, I didn’t want to make a big deal for you.” 

“Aya was THE donor,” says Jelena behind Austin. “So modest.”

Jelena refills their wine. 

“What is it going to be?” asks Austin. 

“It will be a hospital for your mind, like depression things,” says Jelena. 

“It’s not a hospital,”  Aya clarifies,”  it’s going to be more like a community center. It’ll have a space for meditation and yoga and art classes. A place to do what makes you happy, plus a little coffee bar.”

Jelana looks at her with pursed lips… “and.”

“And the main part is for a non-profit clinic for emotional health.” says Aya almost sheepishly. 

“Oh,” says Austin, “that’s really cool, Aya. Y’know, you CAN tell me these things. You don't have to spring them on me. I want to know about your passions, so I can support them, ” he doesn’t care that Jelena is still listening in.

Jelena's eyebrow lifts at Aya as if to say, 'this one, keep this one.'

"Sorry Austin, I'm just so used to doing my own thing," she shrugs it off.

“Yes, she helps so much. We love her,” Jelena smiles warmly at Aya. Then she is pointing a finger at Austin, “Do not fuck her up… I will not like you anymore.” 

“Yes Ma’am,” he says with a smile.  

“Good,” she walks away to another table. 

“You know, that’s like the third or fourth time I’ve been told that,” he says to Aya, “You really have loyal friends.”

“I love my people, what can I say?” she sips her wine as though she were the reigning queen. 

He silently wonders why they all seem so very protective of her. It was clear that she was special in nearly every way. She was magnetic, this he knew all too well, so it only follows that those she touches, literally and figuratively, would love her. If he wanted to be more than just another bit of fluff to her, he was going to have to reconcile these exes still caring deeply about her in his mind. He knows it won’t be the last time something like this happens. 

“Why mental health?” he asks, deciding to put focus somewhere else to let his thoughts settle. 

“Well,” she says tentatively, “I think it's really important for a better society. I try to help the local clinics in every town I own a place in.  They really didn’t have one here so…” she shrugs. What she doesn’t say is that Montenegro has a high rate of suicide and that is actually why she even considered buying a place here. 

“Hmm. How, uh, how many more places do you have?” he asks.

“Ok, since you only ask questions you want to actually know the answers to, “ she smiles at him, then begins ticking off on her fingers.  “New York City, Kuala Lumpur, London and here are investments or for business so I have apartments. I have private homes in the Caribbean and near Aspen, and the Malibu house of course.” She doesn't mention her apartment in Florence. 

“How often do you get to each?” he is astounded that she has so many homes.

“At least once a year,” except Florence. She’s not ready to talk about Florence. 

…………………………

“How about a tub with me?”  Aya says stretching onto her toes to put her arms around his neck. 

She had seen Austin with Jovan, how he went a little possessive then pensive. Jovan was full-on physical touch all the time. Would she admit that part of why she drug Austin to his cafe was to see how he would handle it, maybe. She could tell that he was in his head about it now and thought maybe he needed a little simple reassurance. Besides, if he was going to get his back up every time they met someone she’d fucked, it would get old really fast. 

On the way home, Aya had snuggled into him, falling asleep on his shoulder. He watched the view, mentally dissecting his feelings. Currently, he was standing by the piano, looking out over the ocean view, trying to decide if he should tell her.

“Well, you gotta get dirty first,” Austin says with a smile, not yet, he decided. 

“Do I?” She returns his smile with a sideways glance. 

“Yes of course, otherwise the tub won’t work,” he smirks, running a line down her jaw with this thumb.

“Well, I suppose you could fuck me more, that would surely make me dirty,” she offers with a shrug, as though it’s just an idea. 

“And how exactly do you want me to fuck you more, huh? Aya?” he pulls her against his body. “Do you want me to take you up against a wall, or bend you over something? Maybe outside on the terrace again? Do you want me to lay you down and fuck you? Do you want my cock in your mouth again?“  His voice is soft but dominant. He isn’t sure where exactly all this is coming from, he only knows he wants her.

‘So much for feeling simple’, she thinks as he offers her a smorgasbord menu of sex.  The same words could have been said with spite, a challenge to her motivations. Indeed she has been accused of using sex to her advantage. But really her way is just wanting sex. Instead of acusitory, his hand is gently on her jaw, turning her face up to meet his. His eyes and his tone both tell a story of dominant desire. 

It is sexy as hell. 

“I want…I don’t,” her mind trapped by indecision, “Yes,” she finally breathes out, “any way you want me.” She lets go of any pretense that she will have any major say in what happens for the next few hours. 

“Any way *I* want,” his eyes smolder at her, “Oh, Aya, that is a dangerous thing to offer me,” he echos her words from two weeks ago, Fuck has it only been two weeks?  “Hunny, I have to admit,” his fingers shake just a little as he pushes a hair back from her face, “I don't feel like being gentle tonight.”   Aggressive possibilities flash in his mind. 

“I meant what I said,” she locks eyes with him, returning the smolder joule for joule. “Any. Way. You. Want.” The bite on her lip and the look in her eyes erase in a flash any trepidation he has.

“Well, we are definitely going to need that soak later.  I think after what I want to do to you, we will both be sore and …messy,” the word ‘messy’ melts off his lips. “Newfoundland? Right?”

“Yes Sir,” she says. This is exactly what she wants, she realizes, to not be in control. 

“Oh, I like that,” he rumbles, somehow more turned on by her submission.  He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, only that he wanted to claim her, to have her, rule her, even if just for the night.

“Do you want me to get out some playthings?” she looks up at him through her eyelashes. 

“Yes,” he growls and pulls her in for a kiss full of promises.

She pulls away and disappears into the bedroom. He opens the piano, sits and starts playing a series of cascading arpeggios. It’s his go-to warm up when he wants to play, plus it sounds impressive and satisfying.   He is the picture of a patient man with nothing to do but tickle the ivories, inside he is all nerves though. They’ve not talked about any sort of sub/dom stuff yet. Honestly he figured if they did, he’d be the one kneeling at her feet, not the other way around. Not that he’s not played like this, he has ideas. It’s just that he doesn’t know what she’s ok with or what ‘playthings’ she’s going to bring. Fuck, as long as she is taking,  it could be an entire orgy army she is assembling in there though a secret tunnel.  

Aya spends a few minutes digging deep into the back of her closet to find what she is looking for.  Her hands shake in excitement as she pulls the box out. She has one similar to this in every house she owns. She can’t remember if she’s used everything in this one or not.  She hears him playing her piano and smiles.  She has no idea what he’ll be up for as she glances inside. She kicks herself for not bringing it up sooner. But hey, no time like the present. As she turns to leave, she sees something strappy and black peeking out from behind a boho dress.  Perfect! 

When Aya comes back from the bedroom after freshening up, she is carrying an ornately carved lidded box and wearing a bra and panty set that look to be more like elaborate crisscrosses of black elastic than actual lingerie. It frames her snake tattoo nearly perfectly as well as her naked nipples. Her hair flows down her back, but is held away from her face with a clip.  

His eyebrow raises at her appearance and he stops mid arpeggio, the sound from the sustain pedal ringing in the body of the instrument.  He decides she was worth the wait, his hard cock agrees.  She comes over and presents him with the open box. With one glance, he knows what he wants to do with her. 

“Oh my, so many possibilities in one little box,” his look to her is pure devilish lust, “Pet.”

[baron-a-w-k]

Going through my mind before setting off, I felt like Bilbo Baggins going on adventure. Jumping up and down getting ready, warming up for the ride, while waiting for my friends to come outside and see me off. On my phone I was getting likes and good luck messages from friends on twitter. I knew the encouragement from them was sending positive vibes through me. I then set up a playlist of music, which would help me on my first leg.

Then at 11pm my friends came out, with her boyfriend; I went over to them, and they gave me their blessings. I hugged my friend goodbye, and her boyfriend went with me to film me starting off on my journey. He started the recording, and I said, “see you all in Portsmouth”. Then off I went, into the dark heading west. I started iTunes, ready to press play on playlist. What I didn’t realise was that I had forgotten to save the playlist, so I stopped and picked out a couple of songs. The music kicked in and off I went, knowing I wouldn’t be home till later the next day.

Receiving comments on my phone from friends on twitter still wishing me luck inspired me as I was going at my own pace. The progress along the A13 was going fine, first came the railway bridge nice and easy to get over and once over I could freewheel for a bit. Then onto the second, this time a bit steeper as it crosses the River Rodin. As I was freewheeling down and made sharp ‘S’ turn, off the main road and onto a dedicated cycle path. Halfway down the path I noticed a four-legged animal standing there on the cycle lane. So, I came to a complete stop so as not to disturb it. To my surprise, three more appeared - it was a family of foxes foraging around for food. I kept still and watched, thinking ’just don’t disturb them’. So, for ten minutes I waited.

Then a nutter on an electric bike whizzed by me, giving me a shock, and straight into the path of the foxes. I thought ‘Mad sod!’. The foxes noticed what was coming towards them and quickly scarpered. So, I took off, pedalling slowly to see if they were still around, but the family were gone. Oh well I thought and carried on, knowing I knew was pushed for time as I wanted to get Westminster and be within sight of the tower as Big Ben struck midnight. However, that wasn’t meant to be, because it took me thirty minutes just to reach the edge of the City of London, 2 ½ miles from the tower. I kept looking at the time on my phone. Could I get to Big Ben before midnight? I had five minutes. So, I sped up doing my best.

Then, cycling down Castle Baynard Street, I saw three men on publicly rentable ‘Boris bikes’ up ahead in a narrow tunnel. They were cycling erratically and there was way to overtake them. I thought ‘Great people who can’t ride a safely.’ Looking at the time on my phone, I realised there was now no chance of making it in time, so slowed down waiting for the opportunity to pass them.

After a couple of minutes, where the Embankment passes under Waterloo bridge, the cycle lane widened and I went into high gear flying past them, ringing my bell to warn people on the side pavement that I was about to pass them. When I finally reached Big Ben, it had already chimed midnight, so I pulled over outside the main gates to the Houses of Parliament.

I took the opportunity to look at the notifications on my phone, then took a photo of the clock, showing the ‘ten past twelve’ on its face. ‘Maybe next time I will get here in time,’ I thought.

Five minutes later I was back on the road, for the next leg, heading for the Thames path at Richmond bridge, where I intended to take a break. My usual route to Richmond takes about an hour. The warm night air was making my throat dry, and I was sweating like mad so, about half-an-hour, passing a pub next to Parsons Green, I decided to stop. Unfortunately for me, the pub was closed, and the staff were cleaning up ready to go home. Seeing a woman sweeping up outside, I explained what I was doing and asked if I was too late to get a drink. She said that I was too late, but kindly she went back inside and got me a full pint of water. I drank most of it and poured the rest over my head to cool me down. After thanking her, I got talking to these young gentlemen, who must have drunk the pub dry as they looked totally paralytic. We chatted for about fifteen minutes. I told who I was and explained to them what I was doing. They thought it was a kind act and after that I was back on the road, heading over Putney bridge and along Putney High Street, before turning right at the lights for Richmond.

The travel-time between Putney and Richmond didn’t feel as long as it had done in the past. The roads were very quiet, mostly people walking along the street after a good night out. Then I finally made it, pulling off the main road into a small park then down the ramp onto the Thames path.

Making my way to the park bench I usually sit on, I stopped and got off the bike. Sitting down, I got my food and drink out of my bag and tucked in. I thought it was going to be quiet, however the sound of people still enjoying themselves filled the air. After finishing, I recorded an update video for twitter, stating were I was. Then I decided to move to a different park bench and try and get thirty minutes shut eye.

I called my mother to let her know where I was and after a few minutes, this random stranger approached me. But you will find out more about what happened next in part two…