#this is like over a year old... was originally rendering practice i think

[goatmanteau]

Brittle stone

[serpentface]

I know that you got rid of all the definite super-natural stuff which I think was a really good choice. I know dreamlands cult is still around, but what happened to the giant ur-tree. That was really cool. I was wondering if that was still a thing or significantly changed at all. This blog and all your world building is super cool 🫡

Unfortunately it has to be significantly changed due to the original concept being like, not actually a tree but like a suspended structure of millions of years of plant life (the highest branches being composed of early land plants extinct everywhere else, the trunks being a twisted amalgam of contemporary trees and foliage) supported by a quasi-sapient deified fungal network.

There's nothing I can do that doesn't wildly nerf the concept down, but I'm maintaining the Spirit Of Things by having the Ur-Tree be a clonal system of very large trees that are actually a single tree connected by a root system, which is over 10,000 years old. This single tree is functionally its own woodland, and part of a much larger (otherwise non-clonal) forest.

This ancient tree is an individual from a spec bio species that I haven't fully fleshed out yet. I was thinking something spruce-like in appearance but it needs to produce fairly substantial quantities of dimethyltryptamine in its bark/roots. It grows in humid subtropical-tropical regions (the Ur-Tree is in the Lowlands, which is a humid coastal subtropical region) and has a fairly wide spread, but its range is fragmented and it's almost always found as a singular tree among other species, no other clonal colonies of this size and age exist (and thus the Ur-Tree is recognizably unique). Its root system is a key host/mutualist symbiotic partner for a spec bio fungus with strong hallucinogenic properties, which is refined along with the bark extract to make the Ur-Root entheogen used by the Scholars sect of the Eterhimhamdli religion.

This retcon allows for people to still live in the Ur-Tree (in a less literal sense of living within the space of the colonial organism), for it to be a large location that is a focal point for a religious practice, for its components to be used in production of a very strong hallucinogen, and for it to be a Presence that predates the cultural memories of any groups that encounter it. It might not have the cool factor of the Giant Fucking God Tree but it preserves the aspects that are most interesting to me in the confines of this setting.

The effects of the hallucinogen are also VERY similar to the pre-supernatural nerfing event version (just less Specifically Targeted without the 'experiencing the memories of a semi-sapient fungus' aspect). A full trip starts with minor visual distortion that turns into fractals, the experience of going through a tunnel and 'breaking through' into a distinct experiential Space, you may encounter things you perceive as entities that communicate with you, etc. (This is just DMT.)

The come up period for the fungus times itself near perfectly with the come-down for the DMT (there is usually no moment of in-between for the user). This is experienced as the previous space shifting into one that feels more like the real world, but with a heavily distorted sense of time, the user feels as if they are living through hundreds of thousands of years. Their senses are distorted and indistinct from one another, hard to categorize as 'vision' 'sound' 'smell' 'touch', it's raw Experience. In a good trip, the user loses all sense of individual identity and experiences a sense of oneness with all life, rendering the sensation of endless time into a peaceful experience. In a bad trip, the user remains semi-conscious and might retain the concept of the 'self' and therefore experience what feels like being trapped in this space for millennia.

(Here's the original post about it. Everything about the religious practices and interpretations Surrounding the tree/the Ur-Root is still canon, with the exception of the Scholarly Order Of The Root being a singular sect/mystery cult of a much larger religion rather than The central priesthood of that religion)

[forrest-of-sins]

Here's some questions! Ever going to do the other beasts with the concepts you currently have with Shadowmilk? Or even the ancients? Favorite movie/movies? Favorite show/shows? Favorite Anime/Animes? Favorite game/Games? Favorite thing when it comes to the process of writing or drawing? Any future plans that you could give us a snippet of or a teaser? Any places one could go to in order to read oc lore? You got me curious as a fellow oc creator! (As well what boundaries do you got on fanmade content either for your fandom creations or original content) And a evil question! Least favorite cookie?

I have been thinking about doing some smutty oneshots focusing on Burning Spice and Eternal Sugar! It'd be a while yet I reckon cause I'm focused on The Light of False Hope rn but I reckon Burning Spice is the most likely one to get a one-shot...I like writing horrible violence and that's sorta his thing sooooo I can really go ham with the physical violence aspect >:3 I'd like to write some Pure Vanilla stuff too as a lil gift for my fiance as PV is his favourite cookie! Hollyberry, Pitaya and Black Pearl are also strong contenders for fics too!

My favourite film is defo The Thing (1982), it's an absolutely amazing horror film and I adore how amazing the practical effects looked for the time and even now tbh! Plus, Kurt Russell is just...ough 😩👌

Exposing myself as a stinky brit now but my fave shows are probably the soap operas we air over here ahaha, they're not exactly the highest forms of entertainment but when they do storylines good they do them good.

One Piece is probably my favourite anime shdjdk, it's a basic answer but my fiance got me into it a few years back and I love watching it with him!! Dunmeshi is also one I really like too, I resonate with Laios a lot :'L silly silly autistic freak man..

Favorite game ever is Fire Emblem Sacred Stones, hands down! Love how bleak the story is for an FE game and the horror elements that are sprinkled within it make it hit that much harder, love the main cast and the villain in that game is one of my all time blorbos >:3

Think my favourite thing about drawing is defo the rendering process, especially when it comes to drawing hair and eyes! Love getting fun textures and details down :D I love everything about writing tho tbh, I can't pick a favorite thing about it! It's something I hold near and dear to my heart >u<

As for a teaser regarding TLoFH...some things will be lost - some things will be gained in return. What will that mean? I dunnoooo~ :3c

With cookie oc lore it'll all go here should I choose to make some rambling posts about it! For my other gross ocs on the 18+ blog, I've got some old, admittedly pretty bad fics about a few of them on ao3! I've got my other blog name on my ao3 profile tho, so if you're curious about em you can find em from that handle :3 I got quite a few posts from over the years with doodles and infodumps about my horrible little people.

I don't really have many boundaries with my ocs tbh, just as long as folks don't draw or write like, really evil stuff stuff with em. Even if it's 'just fictional', awful stuff depicting kids or animals is just evil gross and bleghh :T other than that tho, anything is pretty much fair game! it's fun to see what horrible or silly situations people put em in

Least favourite cookie is Espresso Cookie for sure...his design is fine and stuff but I just cannot stand that twink's personality :'L

[brandonjohnbarnard]

Production history around: AQUA

My film AQUA was a result of an open call I saw for Wiro Mag: AQUA by Lyndon Watkinson. The open call had the theme of water (open to interpretation) and accepted art in any medium.

Before this film, I had created a piece called ‘Under Ice’ for the ‘Under Ice’ exhibition. This was great in terms of my chance research: a sudden prompt (chance occurrence), a due date (restriction), and no idea of what I was going to end up making (discovery).

I was a bit apprehensive though this time around. While I am very happy with ‘Under Ice’ as a film, originally I was under the impression that my work was not accepted because it was a film. That can be an issue with bespoke creations, but if you are happy that you are making a film regardless, it is less of an issue.

The reason I say I was “‘under the impression” is that I was told no to films, but I started appearing in a lot of the promotional materials — so I guess they managed to get a TV/projector in there or something!

For my film AQUA, I wanted to copy my methods used when making the film ‘Eggistential’. For this, I just filmed myself cooking an egg for 10 minutes, and then played around with editing. Having ‘vague ideas’ and then using them to create something interesting is a lot of fun. Eggistential is also one of my favourite pieces, even though it was all only created in a day. This method puts a lot of the creative output in the edit process.

The difference here was having a prompt to explore, which I think worked really well. I was walking around my house with a camera hung around my neck thinking “what can I film which is water?” — I was suddenly going from room to room, playing with water and capturing different things. The ideas all started to come naturally from one another. Pouring water. Blowing bubbles through a straw, drinking water, having a shower, etc.

Suddenly, the creative element existed both in the filming process and the editing process.

It all reminded me how much I enjoy the sensation of water running near me. Even writing this paragraph I feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up thinking about it. One of my favourite things is sitting in the bathroom when the shower is running. Ever since I was a very little kid I have felt this way. The warmth, the noise. It is the only thing I can compare to when people talk about enjoying ASMR videos. Having a shower is an amazing experience too. I never want to leave.

For this piece, I wanted to have some poetry in the background — for ‘Under Ice’, I thought the lyrics were a poem, so this time I wanted to do a poem properly.

My ideal selection was a piece of poetry that was over 100 years old so that I did not have to worry about submitting it to galleries and the like, and I’m very happy with the unintended symbolism that came about as a result of this decision.

I decided on “The Brook” by Alfred Tennyson. The element that made me really want to use this poem was the personified nature of the piece. That the poem is from the perspective of the river. Especially the reoccurring lines:

“For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.”

It really made me really think about the themes of ���memetics’ and ‘the cyclical nature of creation’ that is present in a few of my works, especially ‘Disseminate’ and ‘Arc’.

In terms of memetics, the idea that the ‘Brandon’ who makes the art is a separate entity from the ‘Brandon’ that appears in the art. The idea that a warped version me is created when a film has been rendered, and exists on repeat for practically an eternity — that this echo of me can influence the world, potentially after I am dead. While I may go, ‘I’ go on forever.

It is weird to think that the echo of me could have more time on earth than I do. For example, I am currently on Youtube at 300,000 views. If we pretend that all of those people watched 1 minute of ‘me’ (which is unlikely), that is 208 days of ‘me’ that exists. Due to the nature of media being eternal in many ways, there may come a time that the echo has a longer life span than I will.

In terms of the cyclical nature of creation, it is the idea that when I make a film, the process of making it, it as an entity, and the process of viewing the piece all influence the creation of the next piece.

Each piece, in a way, has a start and an end, but they also never really start and never really end. If I have an idea when I was 7-years-old, and carry that idea along with me my whole life, and at 28-years-old I decide to turn it into a film, when did the creation of the film start? In the same way, if the film is released, but gets new meaning and influences me way after its initial release, does ‘the process’ have an end?

This gets compounded the more and more films I release. A project that I thought was ‘over’ suddenly has an epilogue, and then another one, and another one. This makes me think of the Espinosa quote:

“Art will not disappear into nothingness; it will disappear into everything.”

It creates a ‘momentum’ that pushes along ideas. To me, the discussions around the themes in my pieces don’t feel like repetitions, but rather ‘therefor’-s.

In AQUA, I like the shot of myself throwing the wad of paper ‘that is AQUA’ down the drain, adding to that cycle. AQUA, now too is part of the continuous flow of influence.

The same goes for me ‘going down the drain’ at the end. That was unintentional, and was only realised in the edit. I guess I naturally go in circles when I shower! Other than the themes of memetics and the cyclical nature of creation, it adds to the personification ideas in ‘The Brook’ too.

Moving back to the direct content of the film, I like that the poem can be used to dictate shot location. Trying to match up words like “flow”, “bubble”, or “willow-weed and mallow” with similar footage was a fun way to utilise chance, and I feel that it added a nice quality to the piece.

Originally I wanted to record the audio of me reading the poem in the shower, to give it the energy of being affected by the place — distorted and drowned out a bit by the water. While interesting, it made the poem unintelligible, which I thought was a shame since I liked it being heard.

The shots of the bubbly plant thing were from a project I saw at the University of Plymouth. I tried to figure out more details on it, but could not get too much info (I probably could have if I tried harder!).

I think the transition shot of the camera to the sink is good too, and mirrors a lot of what I mentioned earlier.

The recording of a ‘place’ is interesting too. I don’t intend to live where I am living forever, but I really like that this moment in time is being captured forever. It is a large part of filmmaking which I find appealing, that the intangible nature of time and place can be immortalised. Especially in regards to mundane elements. Showers. Taps. Drains. All of these things which are used every day, but attempting to form a picture of them in our memories is difficult, causing us to rely on schema or Platonic ideals instead. Seeing how dirty the sinks are, or limescale on faucets, makes the imagery uniquely a part of my experiences. Having these personal experiences projected to the larger public is intimate in a way which is hard to describe. Often, people use the intimacy I choose to share as a way to ‘have a go’ at me personally, which I find silly.

One of my favourite elements of creating AQUA was the influence it had outside of its production.

At the moment I’m creating a long-form, black and white piece, currently called ‘Communication’, with a Norwegian artist going by ‘Phaedra’. I met her via r/ExperimentalFilm.

The process of making the piece is: I send her a three minute video talking to her, and she sends a three minute piece responding. This will happen 10 times each, and then the final film will be edited down by a third party.

In this back and forth, I spoke about making AQUA, and encouraged her to make something too. Well she did! She made a great piece called ‘Ask The Water’, which also got accepted as a submission to Wiro Mag: Aqua.

That alone has made the experience worth it. I’m excited to see where she goes from here.

This film process has made me want to focus on some other ‘elements’ in the future. Under Ice feels like ice, and ‘Arc’ feels like electricity, so we still have fire, wind, and dirt… Probably more too, like plasma. Got to put some grapes in the microwave.

[superheroclock]

Episode 2 Part 2 Screenshots! Thoughts About Pokemon GO And Making A Video About It

-Posted on the original website on: September 10, 2016

August was the Olympics. September is the Mid-Autumn Festival. Which means.... MOONCAKES!!!

But anyway, I expected that I could finish part 2 in August (in a month) but I spent time watching the Olympics and at the end of August, I ran into a problem with the background. It's all fixed now and below are some screenshots! There are still a few more backgrounds to work on and after that I'll proceed with shading and stuff.

Since July this year, there has been a crazy fad about Pokemon GO. I heard that people all over the world, young or old, are playing it all around the clock, almost every single day. Ever since then, Youtube has been loaded with tons and tons of gameplay/let's play/fanimation etc... videos about Pokemon GO. Because of that some people, and even my brother, suggested that I did a Pokemon GO video for my Youtube channel. Well, to me Pokemon is great, especially the 1st and 2nd generation. I remember being a huge Pokefan back in the years between 1999-2001 where I played Pokemon Gold/Silver and Pokemon Pinball on the Gameboy Color emulator. Over the years after that, Pokemon got less and less popular. And then fast forward until this year, there is Pokemon GO. Although I consider myself an adult and Pokemon games are meant for kids, my brother and I thought we would wanna try it out a bit when we were free - since we were both Pokemon fans. My first impression was the game looked really beautiful. Each pokemon was rendered in 3D which made every single one of them come to life and I bet that was every pokefan's wish. However, the gameplay was a lot different from other Pokemon games. Unlike the original RPGs which have its own map, Pokemon GO uses real-life locations as its map, and you move your character in the game around the map to catch Pokemon by moving yourself in real life.

Everyone's thought of it at first would definitely be like "Wow cool.." but to me, I think it is smart of Niantic but completely foolish of players/users from a practical point of view. People are willing to drive a car to a far location at 3am in the morning, or stay under the rain waiting at a spot just to what? Catch a Charmander? Or maybe to level up/power up pokemon to beat a Gym. But after you beat a Gym or have caught your pokemon then... what? If it's for nothing but that then all that time and effort it just for... that?

Well I'm not trying to be utterly negative about Pokemon GO but it's just not a practical thing in life (and probably not fun to play after you can't seem to catch your favorite rare pokemon or reach level 20 when leveling up seems almost impossible). If you are someone who has ample free time, don't really have a home and don't need to sleep, then it could be practical for you. But for normal average people it could be a detriment to life. I've heard people quitting their jobs just to play, people trespassing just to catch a type of pokemon, people playing and driving (very common) and deaths due to playing this game.

Personally, I don't feel like playing that game anymore. My brother and I have caught a bunch of pokemon but have gotten frustrated and are fed up over the process of playing it. I could go on talking about Pokemon GO because I've realized so much about this game but this is a Super Hero Clock blog. The idea of making a Pokemon GO-related video is a good one because it's a fad but part of me is still reluctant to do that. SHC Episode 2 part 2 is coming out really well and I want to finish it and move on to the next part. Maybe I'll just stall the Pokemon GO video while I work on SHC.

Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments below!

[alteredphoenix]

The other night, I dreamed that I was playing FF16.

I'm not sure why, as I've never played it and don't have a console that's younger than the Wii to play it on (there's a PC port on the way, but that's beside the point), but it made me remember a Lumi plot bunny I had where Clive and Jill and Torgal wind up in Amr Qhagan for Reasons (idk let's some say magic bullshit with the Crystals or Eikons happened) and meet little six/seven/eight-year-old Michelle who, over time, eventually grows close and considers them the mother and father she wishes she could have.

Jill gets attached to her almost on the spot and becomes a doting, protective Mama Bear that puts the fear of Origin into Ollie if anything happens to her (to which it's something that he will never admit out loud even if he has to lie to himself about it). Clive tells Michelle about the lands he and Jill come from, under the guise of the lands that lay "far west" of Gildlla and lets her heal his wounds from their forays into the Amr Qhagan wilderness as a way to practice her medical skills. Meanwhile, the sight of Torgal - a howline-sized wolf - both frightens and then endears everyone in Bazine when he bonds with Michelle and makes her part of his pack.

As this is set a little over ten years before canon events, I like to think this would've been one of the very few Lumi stories that I could write from start to end without having to worry about any big revelation lorebombs that would render the whole thing Jossed and moot. The stakes being low and local as they are, I always thought it was a fun little idea to play with.

[d-druxy]

I originally put this in the tags but it got so long that I decided to just put it here instead:

This is such a difficult vote bc to me these games rank very differently depending on the criteria you put them against. I voted DA2 bc its the game I feel most at home at and also the one I think the most about. I didnt expect to love Hawke as much as I did and that really endeared them towards me. Varric is also an all time favorite guy of mine and I just generally deeply care for this little family of misfits and their bonds to each other.

Playing it however.. I had fun and its a servicable game, dont get me wrong, but I didnt love playing it. I do like that we see some actual art direction and exploration in da2 It has its own visual identity which DAO for all it strengths lacks imo.

I don't even mind that we're restricted to kirkwall. I think limiting a game towards an area can definitely be beneficial. But the game feels rushed and it really shows at times (the same three set pieces to battle some thugs in) I do think da2s combat has a very snappy look to it and feels the best to me in this game (at least animation wise). Especially the Rogue looks super fun jumping and teleporting all over the place (im so glad for mods bc the champions rogue armors color pallette is TERRIBLE). But even combat isnt flawless and I think it took a bit of a hit mechanics wise, at least when it comes to the ability trees. (tbf mechanics are never my speciality so thats all im gonna say about it)

As a whole package however?.... It will always be DAO. Im forever in love with the dwarf commoner origin and the rpg elements are heavy in this game, it's so fun. Theres so much to do and at least for this game it really makes you feel like your choices matter. The replayability is great

The differences between the origins are my favorite part and while I couldnt bring myself to try a different one out yet, its just great that the option is there and it allows for the creation of a variety of characters. It's such a solid base to play around with. The combat in this game feels a bit outdated and clunky to me but its straightforward and it works. (I also think it allows you more freedom to explore different builds? but again thats not something I really dabble in).

I will say; I wish that DAO had a stronger art direction in game. Its very much giving the same old classic fantasy and it just doesnt have a strong visual identity to call its own. I also think the graphics can be rough, a lot of the npcs look the same but honestly I can forgive it plus mods are always an option.

This is also the only DA game where I'm not super mad about how the dwarfs look (they have VERY long arms but I can deal. I exclude DA2 from this discussion tho bc we dont get to create/play as a dwarf in that game and I dont recall seeing any female dwarfs either(?)). There still is some sexual dysmorphism (especially in the concept art lmao) but its not nearly as bad as in DAI (< shudders).

Now.. DAI was my first Dragon Age Game. The glitz of it definitely impressed me back then and its still iconic in some regards.

But it didnt make me fall in love with Dragon Age as a whole. That would only happen once I played DAO and actually understood wtf was going on (years later after I tried playing DAI for the first time).

I think DAI is THE Dragon Age game when it comes to art design. It practically overflows with it. (Dear god the tarot cards aloneeee they're so fucking iconic!!). The visual identity of this game is SO strong and the environments are still super beautiful even now! They look distinct and really showcase the different parts of Dragon Ages world. I love the graphics despite the janky animations and even now i still think the way this game renders skin and certain fabrics is super pretty.

but the world feels super empty at times but there arent any real backgrounds for the Inquisitor (I actually missed the little info blurb for the inky you make gets, the first time around) but the rpg elements have been even more reduced but the races sexual dysmorphism in this game is atrocious (I hate the way the female dwarfs look in this fucking game) but some of the story decisions bloat dragon ages setting as a whole but the hairstyles in this game are soooo ugly. almost all of my Inkys have buzzcuts (< I jest but yeah) etc.. So my ranking of these games heavily depends on the part we base the ranking on. I love good art design and interesting visuals. I know a lot of people hate the out there- over the top fashion design in DAI and when I was younger I used to agree. But now?? HOW FUN! HOW INTERESTING!! I love that I can tell the historical fashion influences! I love how different orlais feels from ferelden! I can tell the people who designed those outfits enjoyed themselves!! And for that alone I will always love DAI. (doesnt help that im just unsure what I want my Inquisitor to be personality wise. Both DAO and DA2 give you such solid bases to build upon)

But I dont love it as much as either DA2 or DAO in a lot of other regards.

DAO is the strongest as a whole experience. DA2s cast is so memorable and beloved. My brain loves to chew on Hawke and their story and its fun how much youre able to interpret into it since its by an unreliable narrator. I also think the rival vs friendly mechanic for your companions was and interesting idea DAI is a beautiful game. I love the graphics and its art. The cast is still lovable but playing it feels like such a big undertaking and I will forever hate what they did to the female dwarfs in this game

[fantisyoflove]

Learning from the Past

Just a little blurb I couldn't get out of my head about if you the reader dropped into my story with me.

The silvery - blue memory swirls as it takes shape before you plunge headfirst into what looks to be a very old house surrounded by members of the original Order.

Some of the faces you can recognise easily. Frank and Alice stand off in a corner, heads bowed together, as they hold hands and whisper to each other. Soft easy smiles on their lips. Peter nibbling on his fingernails looking around in that skittish way of his. Lily, James, and Sirius laughing together over something James has said. Remus sitting at the table head in his hands, an empty potion bottle tipped on its side in front of him.

"Alright, alright, gather round. I think we have everyone here now." Dumbledore's booming voice silences everyone and they all gather closer together to listen.

"Today I have brought you here to learn a special skill from Miss Burke." He gestures to me standing shyly to his side. I give a little wave to the crowd of people and you can swear it seems like I am looking right at you.

From somewhere in the back you hear someone call out, "If it's snogging in the school hallways I think we've all mastered that!" A half hearted titer of laugher ripples through the room and suddenly I feel much taller.

"Silence" Dumbledore commands. Then gestures for me to continue.

I pull my sleeves down further to cover my hands as i see everyone's eyes on me.

"To..to..today I wwwill be showing you how to *cough* um how to call your wand back to you."

There are murmurs from the crowd as wandless magic has not been properly documented or practiced before.

"A witch or wizard is rendered almost useless in a fight with a simple 'expelliarmus'" I explain gaining confidence and my voice.

"You think of your wand as a tool, as something to use. Instead you must think of your wand as an extension of yourself. Simply more of your body." I demonstrate as I hold out my wand. It follows my pointer finger and the base rests against my wrist.

"Not only will you gain more control but you will also produce stronger spells with this connection. 'The wand chooses the wizard' as they say," I nod my head to Ollivander who mirrors my gesture.

"Set your wand on the floor." I say and place mine down by my feet. Most people set their wands on the floor gracefully, while a few clunk to the ground unceremoniously.

"I can tell you right now if you dropped your wand on the floor this will not work for you." You sigh, not thinking you would have to explain that bit in detail. " Now with your eyes closed, picture that day in first year when you commanded your broom to your hand. Instead of saying 'up' simple call your wand to you." I think of her name, I see it in my mind, and as I flex my fingers my wand snaps back into my hand exactly how it was before ready and willing to cast another spell.

There are a few gasps from the crowd and instantly some try, nobodies wand moves.

"Exactly what are we supposed to call it then?" James dralls

I roll my eyes, "you must be one with your wand. Connect to them in your own way. They will tell you want to call them. Keep their name secret. You can also imagine your wand is attached to you by a string and you are pulling the string back to you." At this several gasps of triumph and groans of frustration happen around the room.

You know you arn't physically in this world but you can't help but follow along with the instructions. Your wand flies seamlessly back into your hand. With this knowledge you feel like you can really make some headway with wandless magic now.

[mywifeleftme]

44: Fates Warning // Perfect Symmetry

Perfect Symmetry Fates Warning 1989, Metal Blade (Bandcamp)

As a teenager I almost certainly would’ve called prog metal or thrash my favourite genre of music, and I spent a lot of time listening to icily produced chops demonstrations in the vein of Fates Warning’s Perfect Symmetry (though, even as a head, I never cared much for this record in particular). I’ll pause here to play a game of Remember Some Guys.

Remember Some Guys (Prog Metal Edition)

Remember Watchtower?

Remember Anacrusis?

Remember Mekong Delta?

Remember Crimson Glory?

Remember Flotsam & Jetsam?

Remember Thought Industry?

I remember those guys! Anyway, Fates Warning at one time were considered one of the “Big Three” of ‘80s/‘90s prog metal, alongside Queensrÿche and Dream Theater, but the years have rendered them much more of a cult act (see: FW’s 26,000 Spotify listeners versus over a million each for DT and the ‘Ryche). I can think of a couple of reasons for this. Their early albums sound like straight up and down ‘80s traditional metal, if a group of guys had broken all its limbs with a set of golf clubs. The songs have huge, starry-eyed choruses, flashy solos, and some timeless riffs, but they jerk around at odd angles, thwarting the simple headbanger who just wants to gallop. As they moved through the ‘80s and ‘90s they reinvented themselves multiple times as first ur-technical Guitar Center porn (see: Perfect Symmetry), then mellow Queensrÿche-adjacent crossover hopefuls, and finally into a darker-hued sound influenced by latter-day King Crimson, Tool, and Peter Gabriel. A lot of their back catalogue is actually pretty good, but this restlessness (and leader Jim Matheos’ increasing taste for grey moods and flat melodies) soon saw them fall behind their peers in sales and influence.

Back to Perfect Symmetry. As you’ve probably gathered, I think this album sucks. Even when they were singing about giants and sorceresses, ‘80s Fates Warning never met a simple pleasure they weren’t compelled to complicate with bonkers time signature and tempo shifts. Sometimes those bait and switches and hairpin turns could be thrilling, as on the thrash-influenced numbers on No Exit, their previous album. Here though, you can practically see the band screwing up their faces (and their songs) into expressions of intense, tortured profundity. Everything fun about the band goes out the window in favour of plodding tempos, groaning pseudo-philosophy (sample: “Men of grandeur / blinding, numbing / with winsome wiles in specious styles”), and pointlessly busy playing that sounds like they arranged it using a circuit diagram. This also was not a good look for vocalist Ray Alder, who often gambles with the key when he shouldn’t.

I picked this album out of a dollar bin a few years ago out of old loyalty to the band and, given that it now fetches a decent little sum, I’m sure I’ll part with it eventually. But I’ll close with some words of praise for a band I’ve enjoyed a lot over the years: after Perfect Symmetry, Fates got this particular bug out of their system, and they never really returned to this style. Matheos in particular had a cool renaissance in the 2000s, and I’m very fond of his collaborations with Chroma Key’s Kevin Moore as OSI and his initial reunion with original Fates vocalist John Arch in 2003. Eh, in a 40-year career, they won’t all be winners right?

44/365

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥You Are Human, And Damn It, You Are An Important One!🔥

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m back! It looks like my tags finally decided to sort themselves out so I wanted to (finally) post a new story! I’m still working on requests though, so don’t worry, those are coming soon! I just wanted to post this in the mean time while I edit those and test if my tags are really fixed on one of my originals so that any requested fics will actually be seen later should an error occur. Thank you so much for your continued support and patience, you guys are so amazing! I hope this makes up for my temporary hiatus! This one actually has a bit of a heavier tone to it but I think I’m finally happy with it! Thanks again for the support, and don’t be afraid to talk to me! Shoot me a message or just spew random bullshit and I’ll still respond 😂. Enjoy!

(Warning: themes of non-con & abuse. This is set in a brothel, but there’s nothing explicit, it’s just mentioned or implied. Just wanted to put it out there! Viewer discretion advised!)

🐉Song Recommendation: “The Gardener” By: Sarah Sparks 🐉

Word Count: ~7k

~~~

It was that time of year. The time of year that Levi hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It was the time of year in which merchants from all around would come down to the Underground City, away from the prying eyes of the Military Police, and sell anything and everything to the nobles who weren’t exactly looking for orthodox materials. The normally filthy, mostly empty streets would be filled with members of the wealthy, dripping in jewelry, cash, and lavish clothing as they paraded around the sorry excuse for a city, boasting of their wealth and privilege as they bought enough food and luxurious goods to feed three times the number of people in the Underground while sharing none of it.

The days were starting to blur together. Levi honestly couldn’t tell if it had been a day, a week, or a month as the drugs in his system continued to work just like the brothel owners wanted them to, rendering him practically inoperative and perfect for use. His head pounded, swimming with confused thoughts. His gaze was unfocused, warped, and his whole body felt suffocatingly hot despite his lack of cover, his legs shifting as his body instinctively searched for a relief he didn’t even want. But that was exactly how they wanted him.

The sound of his door being unlocked made him look up slowly, his eyes taking a few seconds to fully focus on the man standing in the entrance of his room, a wide, malicious grin on his face. Levi couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust. The man smelled of sweat and stale alcohol, and his unkempt appearance made Levi itch, even when drugged out of his mind.

“Oh, Levi…” the man cooed, making Levi shudder. “I have another customer for you.”

Even though Levi had been through this time and time again, even though he had been trapped in his filthy room since he was caught stealing from a merchant friend of the brothel owner at age twenty, even though the drugs in his system were making his body scream for what this new customer could give him, he still couldn’t help the wave of dread that washed through him, the fear. Levi didn’t fear much, having grown up on the streets of the Underground alone since he was abandoned by Kenny at the age of ten, but this? This he was scared of.

He thought back to the wretched old man that had abandoned him as a small child and wondered what he would think of him now. Would he be disgusted? Unsurprised? Angry? Not that it mattered. Levi knew he would never see him again. But even so, his brain couldn’t help itself from going down those roads, asking questions of “what if?” no matter how many times he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. He was just some bastard thug turned whore in the Underground. Nobody was going to even remember him, let alone care about who he was or who he may be in the future.

Levi was once again brought out of his daze when the pig in the doorway moved to the side, letting a noble woman saunter into the room. She had a wicked grin on her face as she approached him, ignoring the brothel owner as he slammed the door shut behind her, giving them some privacy. She was covered in glittering jewelry, and although the dress she wore was extravagant, it was very tight fitting and low cut, barely considered decent, her large breasts one breath away from spilling out over the top. Her hair was pinned up in a lavish braided style, twisting and coiling tightly, and held together with real gold pins that Levi knew must’ve cost a fortune.

“~Well, hello sexy,” the woman purred as she approached the raven-haired man.

Levi had to force himself not to grimace, even with the effect of the drugs, when she slithered her way over his thighs, her hands reaching up to cup his face. The smell of whatever custard perfume she had on was overwhelming, making his eyes water and his throat close up. Her hands felt clammy from all of the lotions and creams she had slathered over her skin to make it look shinier, making them feel like dead fish rubbing against his cheeks.

“Well? Aren’t you going to ask my name?” The woman demanded in a sickly sweet voice, making Levi close his eyes in barely suppressed agony.

“What is your name?” Levi asked in a low voice. He felt the woman preen above him at the sound of his voice, knowing she thought his deep tone was for setting the mood rather than the effect of his despair.

“My name is Lady Clarissa! What’s your name, hmmm?”

“Levi,” He said quietly.

“Oooh, Leevviiii, I like that,” Lady Clarissa practically moaned. “Say, Levi, you were quite expensive. That must mean you're really good at what you do. I can already tell that you fulfill my personal tastes in terms of appearance, so why don’t you convince me of the rest and give me a good time. Don’t make me regret spending my good money on you. Don’t make me punish you.”

Levi gritted his teeth when she ground her hips into him, trying his hardest not to fight back. He knew it would be difficult, the drugs making his movements and mental processes much slower, but at that moment, all he wanted to do was shove her off of him. Swallowing the bile in his throat, Levi reached for her as she leaned down to force her tongue into his mouth.

It was that time of year. The time of year that (Y/N) hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It took everything in her to avoid groaning in annoyance as the people she was expected to call her friends dragged her down into the filthy Underground City for a day of “fun”. (Y/N) would much rather be back at home, reading a book in the library, or relaxing with the horses in the barn, or secretly practicing her sword fighting skills with the guards of their estate. But her father had forced her to go when her friends had shown up at the house, begging for her to come with them. He claimed she needed to get her priorities straight and actually present herself, show the honor and pride that came with being part of the (L/N) family. (Y/N) thought there was very little honor and pride in parading their wealth around like they owned the world, especially in front of people who constantly struggled to survive on a daily basis.

(Y/N) walked slowly down the worn cobblestone streets, suppressing the urge to gag at the sight of other nobles walking around, looking and acting as if they were rulers of the walls. She barely looked at anything, only stopping to occasionally buy food when she noticed the hungry children hanging around, looking for a scrap to steal. She could tell they were wary of her, but she never stopped trying, always offering them the food in some way, even if it meant leaving it in a secluded space for them to find later.

Her friends constantly tried to get her to engage, running up to her with crystal jewelry, silk clothing, and delectable foods, attempting to entice her, only to get pushed away. (Y/N) wanted no part in any of it. Even her attire spoke volumes about how little she wanted to be there. She knew that to the people of the Underground, the dress she wore would be considered something of utmost value, but when compared to the nobles around her, she looked underdressed and plain. She wore nothing more than a subtle red dress covered with a black leather jacket, paired with black combat boots and matching gloves, no jewelry to be found except for the simple white earrings she wore in her lobes.

Her father had been less than pleased with her appearance, but stopped arguing when she announced she was leaving, the lord just happy she had at least agreed to go to the festival. She knew he was disappointed in her, annoyed that she wasn’t like the other noble ladies who loved to flaunt their luxurious lifestyles and bend to the every whim of the lords around them, looking to marry early for money and power. (Y/N) wouldn’t be surprised if the entire reason her father wanted her here was so she could possibly win over the affections of a single lord milling about, one that was rich and influential. It was for that possibility alone that (Y/N) had originally thought to wear something that made her look underdressed, having to swallow the bile that rose in her throat at the prospect of catching some snobby noble’s attention.

“Yeah, her name is (Y/N)! She’s the one right over there, I think she could use a good time.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up when she heard her name, her eyes shooting over to where her friends were standing in a group in front of a large building. All of them were looking at her, covering their faces with their hands to hide their giggles. Dread filled her to the brim when she saw the sign in front of the building, her face paling in horror.

“That one, eh? I think we can arrange something like that,” the brothel owner said, a smug smile on his lips as he stared at her, his grin only widening as her cheeks flushed a brilliant red. “Don’t worry, I’ve got one in particular that could give you a good ride. He’s expensive since he’s my most popular, but he’s worth it.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to argue, her cheeks on fire as her brain fought to think of something, anything to get her out of this situation. She didn’t want to fuck some random stranger for no reason, but she especially didn’t want to have sex in a brothel. She found them vulgar, repulsive, and horrible. The way they treated their “workers” was appalling. Just as the words finally reached the tip of her tongue, one of the girls she had come to the festival with cut off her impending argument.

“Damn, I’m jealous! If he’s that good I’m almost tempted to take him myself. But she needs this. She hasn’t loosened up the entire time we’ve been here and I think this might help. She’ll take him.”

The greasy man smiled and wrote her name down, happily accepting the roll of cash her friend handed him before getting up, supposedly to let the man know that he had another customer on the way. (Y/N) tried to escape when she could, but her friends rushed up and caught her before she could slip into the shadows, dragging her over to the brothel and shoving her towards an open door where the brothel owner stood, a creepy smile still plastered on his face.

“Guys! I don’t want this!” (Y/N) whispered frantically as she was dragged towards her doom.

“It doesn’t matter if you want it or not, you need it!” One of her friends said with a laugh. “Besides, you’re going to have a fun time. Don’t make us regret spending that money for you!”

(Y/N) was practically thrown into the room, stumbling as she fought to catch her balance, before the door was slammed shut behind her, the loud sound of the lock being latched reverberating around the room with the finality of a death toll. Huffing in anger, (Y/N) stood and brushed herself off, smoothing out her dress and straightening back up to her full height, fighting off the panic slithering up her spine.

A low groan of pain coming from behind her made her whirl around in surprise, her eyes landing on a shorter, pale skinned man with stunning silver eyes and raven black hair. Gods he looked pathetic. She could definitely tell he was attractive, it made sense now as to why he was a popular choice, but he looked sickly, his cheeks hollowed out, dark circles under his eyes, and a muscled yet neglected body starting to wear thin from years of hunger and constant overuse. The sight made her want to be sick. How could anybody be cruel enough to force themselves onto this obviously abused man? How could anyone willingly pay money to fuck him rather than help him?

“Um, hello,” (Y/N) said quietly. “W-What’s your name?”

The man raised an eyebrow, not used to the soft, kind, almost shy way she asked for his name. The women and occasional men he dealt with most of the time were demanding, controlling, and sadistic, knowing they paid for a man they could use, and their voices usually projected that. Yet, this woman looked as if she had been forced to do this, further supported by the way she had been nearly thrown into the room by whom he assumed was her friends.

“Levi,” he said quietly, waiting for the usual routine to start, no matter how much his gut twisted in disgust at the thought.

“Hi, Levi, I’m (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)...” Levi murmured softly, training himself to memorize it despite his swimming brain, knowing she would want him to scream it out later. Whether in pain or in pleasure, he wasn’t sure yet.

“Um…” (Y/N) was about to speak, her mind scrambling for something to say when her eye caught sight of a large bruise on his neck. Her eyes widened and suddenly started scanning his entire body, her stomach roiling more and more the longer she stared. Now that she was really paying attention, (Y/N) could see painful bites, hickeys, and splotchy bruises littering his neck, jaw, chest, and thighs. Her eyes narrowed on the long, bloody scratches running down the length of his chest and back, and she noticed blooming red patches of skin all over him that were raw and aching from being slapped hard and rough over and over again. 

He was wearing a loose pair of worn boxers as his only cover, and (Y/N) could only imagine what other horrors the thin cloth was hiding. Glancing down, she saw him shift uncomfortably, his boxers tented by his arousal. The sight made her growl in anger, knowing that to keep him going after he had already had so many customers for the day, a drug was being used to make him insatiable, forcing him past the point of pain and probably clouding his judgement and mental process as well. It made her want to go cut up the brothel owner and serve him to a pig.

Without thinking, (Y/N) rushed to him, reaching out to him, only to freeze when he flinched. She heard him curse at the involuntary movement, knowing it was his job to appear as unaffected and sexually appealing as possible, and it made her heart clench even harder, her hatred for this place and the people who ran it increasing tenfold.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) immediately slowed her movements, trying to appear as calm and unhurried as possible. Her gaze softened and glazed with unshed tears when he closed his eyes, his arms reaching out as he prepared for her to sit on his lap and have her way with him like she knew every other man and woman who used him did. Gritting her teeth against the fury she felt, she carefully slid her way across his thighs. She felt him force himself to relax under her as he leaned forward to let her kiss him.

When he felt nothing, and heard something click, Levi cracked open his eyes in curiosity, only to have them fly open all the way when he felt something cool and wet against his neck. Looking down at the woman in his arms, his lips parted in shock, watching in confused awe as she leaned back and soaked a small cloth in some water from a bottle, rinsing the fresh blood from the fabric. Looking to the side, he saw a small first aid kit by her feet, the container open to reveal a variety of medical tools inside.

(Y/N) leaned forward again, raising the towel to his neck to dab at his abrasions, washing them carefully, reverently, almost... lovingly. Levi opened and closed his mouth but no words came out as she continued to work on him, delicately cleaning his jaw and neck before carefully moving on to his chest. Was this some kind of strange ritual she always performed during sex? Did she just find him dirty and want to clean him up before putting her lips or her pussy on his skin? His mind was running a million miles a minute as she worked on him in silence, only pausing when he hissed quietly at the feeling of his gashes being washed.

(Y/N) frowned as she gently swiped the cloth along the red gouges in his skin. They were deep, most likely caused by the long, sharp nail extensions some ladies liked to wear, or the dull blade of a man with violent tendencies. It didn’t surprise her, a lot of the men and women who used people like this did have sadistic qualities, but it didn’t help to quell the now roaring fire in her blood, wanting nothing more than to fight against the injustice of this man.

“W-What are you doing?” Levi finally managed to ask.

“Cleaning your wounds.”

“Why? Is this some kind of-”

“Preparation? No. We aren’t going to do anything. I just want to help your injuries heal.”

Levi felt like his brain was full of static, like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. He wasn’t complaining, far from it, but he couldn’t get a reading on this woman. Why would she, a noble from the surface, want to help him, a hopeless whore from the Underground?

“Wha-”

“Before you ask what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I didn’t even want to do this. I was forced to come to this festival because my father wants me to become more of a proper noble woman. But since I wasn’t too thrilled about having to be here, the people I came with thought I could use an opportunity to loosen up, and paid for me to do this with you in the hopes that I’d start having fun with them afterwards. But I have no intention of doing any of that. I hate how everyone in the Underground is treated like shit, and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of someone who obviously isn’t in control of his situation. I just want to help.”

Levi closed his mouth, all of his protests dying on his tongue. He still had questions, a lot of them, but he decided those could wait, her explanation making him feel surprisingly relaxed for someone who had trained himself to never take the word of a noble at face value. He had never met anyone like her. Even before he was forced to whore himself out, all he had ever known of nobles was their complete lack of humility and egotistical sense of self-importance. 

It was silent for a moment, but this time, the silence was more comfortable, both of them starting to relax a little as (Y/N) continued to patch him up. Levi felt himself loosen up a bit, his muscles unwinding as his hands settled on her waist, keeping her securely balanced on his lap as she worked. Pride swirled in (Y/N)’s chest as she felt his tense muscles soften, her eyes sparkling as she started to work her way towards earning his trust.

“What’s your happiest memory?” (Y/N) asked suddenly.

Levi quirked an eyebrow in suspicion, “Why should I tell you, brat?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head and stifling a giggle at the nickname. “I only asked because I figured we may as well talk while we do this. Not only that, I feel like you could use some happiness right now. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if you don’t want to talk to me, you don’t have to.”

Levi was silent for a minute, the cogs in his mind turning as he tried to make what he believed to be the right decision despite the fog clouding his judgement. Just as she had promised, (Y/N) waited patiently, not pressuring him to answer, or even bringing up another question. She merely sat in silence, her clear (e/c) eyes narrowed on his injuries as she worked to make him feel better.

“There was a time when I was with my friend Farlan, a few years back. We were doing a job, trying to get rid of a troublesome merchant for a client of ours when we found out the merchant had a cat. We were hiding around the corner, waiting to strike when that damn cat jumped up onto Farlan’s lap. I’m fine with cats, but that was the day we found out Farlan had some kind of allergy to them. He was trying to hold back his sneezes but finally lost control right when the merchant came around the corner, and Farlan ended up sneezing really violently in his face. That merchant got so scared he must’ve jumped at least three feet in the air, and even managed to piss himself before he took off. We still had to finish him off later, but in that moment, when Farlan was mortified and our target was running for the hills because of a cat induced sneeze, I couldn’t help but laugh a little.”

(Y/N) had paused in her work to listen to him, and couldn’t help but smile when he finished his story. Going back to work, (Y/N) didn’t ask what happened to Farlan, not wanting to drag him back down after she had finally gotten him to talk to her, about something so personal no less.

“What about you?” Levi asked.

“Hmm, I think I’d have to say when I got my horse for my birthday,” (Y/N) said. “I was never around the horses, wasn’t allowed to be in the barn because it wasn’t “proper for a lady”. But I loved them, loved seeing them on the streets when other nobles would come visit my father or when the soldiers from the Survey Corps would come back from a mission. I couldn’t stay away, so no matter how much my father tried to squash my love of them, it just wouldn’t happen. My mother eventually convinced him to let it go, and surprised me with a little chestnut filly that I named Sashay when I was about sixteen years old. Now, she’s my best friend. We’ve been through everything together, and she’s the only one who doesn’t try to force me to be something I’m not. Aside from the royal guards, I guess. They learned a long time ago to stop trying to get me to sit still and look pretty when I beat all of them in the sword fighting ring.”

Levi’s brows shot up into his hair at that, his lips parting in surprise. “You know how to sword fight?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah, not what you were expecting, huh?”

“No,” Levi said. “I’ve never heard of a noble woman who could fight, let alone with a blade. Are you any good?”

“I tend to think so, but that all depends on who I’m up against,” (Y/N) said with a cheeky smile.

For some reason, Levi couldn’t help but smile back for the first time in years. His lips felt chapped and strained from disuse, but it felt good, a light feeling flooding his chest with warmth. “You said earlier that your horse’s name is Sashay,” Levi said, suddenly changing the topic.

“Mm hm.”

“That’s weird.”

(Y/N) giggled at his bluntness, making another fluttering feeling swirl in his chest. He had never met anyone other than Farlan who saw his language as something other than rude.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” (Y/N) said. “But I named her that because she is a sassy chestnut mare. I like to imagine that if she were human, she’d be someone you wouldn’t want to mess with, someone who wouldn’t take shit from anyone, but would do so with a spicy attitude. So I named her accordingly.”

Levi huffed a laugh at her response but almost immediately regretted it when the movement of his chest caused the rough gauze at her fingertips to brush against his injuries a little harder than before, the stinging sensation making him hiss in pain.

“Sorry!” (Y/N) said, quickly retracting her hands and holding them up, waiting for him to give her the signal to continue.

“Not your fault,” Levi mumbled, motioning that it was alright for her to get back to work. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I said that before.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me. I want to do this.”

Levi wanted to ask her why but remembered what she had told him at the start of this and decided to trust her word, swallowing the question and instead changing topics. “Why do you even have this? Do you always just carry a first aid kit around?”

“Only when I come to the Underground. I want to have it available for those who really need it.”

“You do know that at least half of the people down here would kill you without a second thought to get to that medicine. Or they’d kill you if they thought you were pitying them.”

“I know, but I’d like to think I can handle myself a bit more than the average person. Even so, I usually keep it hidden unless I really want or need to use it on someone, and it’s only for quick patch-ups anyway. I can’t really fix anything major.”

(Y/N) finally finished with his front and carefully slid off of his thighs, moving slowly to begin working on his back. She made sure he was okay with everything she was doing before settling herself down onto the edge of the bed behind him, her hands reaching up to start her work once more.

Levi wanted to know more about her. He felt as if he could talk to her for hours, as if he had known her for years. He wanted to know what made her laugh, what made her cry, what her vision was for the future. It was insane, so much so that Levi idly wondered if he’d fallen off the deep end. But he couldn’t deny it. She was just too intriguing, so surprisingly kind, so genuine.

What was your childhood like? What are your favorite things to do? Do you come down here often? When will I see you again?

The questions continued to rattle around in Levi’s head as they once again lapsed into a comfortable silence but he forced all of them back, not wanting to seem either too desperate to get to know her, or be seen as coming on too strong.

After debating with himself for a while, Levi finally settled on, “You’ve mentioned your father a lot, and how he doesn’t want you to be yourself.”

(Y/N) tensed a little, her face twisted in a grimace behind Levi’s back. “Yeah… he used to be better about it, but ever since my mother died, he’s been like a tyrant. He’s upset he didn’t get a son in the first place, but now that he’s stuck with me for a daughter, he’s even more disappointed that I’m not someone he can easily make profits off of by marrying me off to someone. Not only have I been adamant about not allowing it, but no nobleman wants a woman who can think for herself. A woman who can ride a horse, go toe to toe with her soldiers, has an opinion, and is knowledgeable about current conflicts. They want someone who will dress up all pretty for them and be in bed, ready to satisfy them when they get home from gambling and drinking all day while sitting on their parents’ money.”

Levi scoffed and (Y/N) huffed in agreement. “I’m just not that kind of person. Every suitor that has ever met me has run away from my casual attire and sailor’s mouth.”

“Your father wasn’t like this when your mother was alive?” Levi asked.

“He was, but he wasn’t as bad. My parents were in an arranged marriage, but they got along alright. At least my father loved my mother enough to listen to her most of the time when she told him to lay off of me. I honestly think she’s the reason why I have such a strong fighting spirit.”

“I’m sorry she’s gone,” Levi said awkwardly, not used to providing words of comfort.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) said genuinely, a warm smile gracing her beautiful features.

“I didn’t know my mother that well,” Levi said haltingly, still unsure why he felt comfortable telling her about things he hadn’t even talked to Farlan about. “She died of a disease when I was four years old. She was a prostitute, like me, so I never knew my father. When she died, I was picked up by a man named Kenny, who I thought might’ve been my father for a short while, but as I grew older, I realized he wasn’t. I don’t have any proof, I just know. When he abandoned me at ten, I was alone for a few years before I met Farlan.”

“So… you didn’t get stuck doing this because of your mother?” (Y/N) asked carefully, almost afraid to ask in case it made him shy away from her.

“No,” Levi said slowly. “I was twenty years old when I was caught stealing from a rich friend of this brothel owner. I had made a mistake and there was no way out. He figured out who I was, a thug who was known at the time for carrying out favors for people, whether that meant stealing or killing depended on how much they were willing to pay. Unfortunately, this led them to Farlan, and he gave me a choice. Me, or my best and only friend.”

“And you chose to save your friend at the expense of yourself,” (Y/N) finished for him in a hoarse whisper, filled with horror and unbridled fury at what this man had been through. She figured she should’ve been alarmed, he had just admitted that he had blood on his hands. He was a thief, a thug, a criminal, a murderer. But (Y/N) knew those things were nearly requirements for living in the Underground and no matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t think of anything that would make this man deserve what he was going through.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to say something just as she put the last bandage in place when a loud pounding on the door startled them both. “Time’s up, you two!” The brothel owner shouted through the door.

(Y/N) shot up from the bed and rushed around to where the water and first aid kit sat, quickly packing up the little box of supplies and splashing her face with water, trying to make herself look sweaty enough to look convincing. Once everything had been packed away, (Y/N) stood and shrugged off her leather jacket, throwing it to him.

“Here, take this, it’ll keep your boss from seeing the bandages and trying to get rid of them. It’ll also give your injuries a little more protection from the bacteria in this room.”

Levi wanted to refuse, tell her he couldn’t accept a gift like this, even if it was temporary, but no words would come out as he watched the beautiful woman in front of him mess up her hair and swipe her fingers across her lips, trying to make herself look as wrecked as possible. When she finally looked the part enough to seem convincing, (Y/N) made her way to the door, turning one last time before she opened it to throw him a wink and a sweet smile.

“~Goodbye Levi, I hope we can see each other again soon.”

The lilt in her voice was fake, an act for anyone who may be listening on the other side of the door, meant to be taken as a sickly promise of more sexual endeavors to come, but he could feel the genuine emotion in her statement.

“I hope so too,” Levi said quietly after she had already left, the once comforting quiet of his room now making him feel lonely and empty.

The sound of pounding on his door woke Levi abruptly, making the raven-haired man growl in anger and annoyance. It was rare that the poor man got to sleep, not only because customers could come in at almost any time, day or night, but also because of the horrible insomnia that often plagued him. It made him even more irritable to be woken up, his body sore and his mind groggy as another round of pounding roused him further and prompted him to swing his legs over the side of the small cot he was provided when not busy fucking, and make his way to the door.

“What?” Levi snapped when he swung open the door, genuinely surprised that the pig who owned him hadn’t just burst into his room like he always did, raving about yet another customer for Levi.

“Get your shit, you’re going to the surface.”

Levi blinked. This had to be some kind of joke. The brothel owner never let anyone under his foot leave the brothel, let alone the Underground. Even the highest class noble women couldn’t request for him to come to them, the old man not trusting his prostitutes to be sent back. Especially Levi.

“Oi, your ears gone to shit now? Grab your pathetic bullshit and get out of my sight,” the man snarled, his small, watery eyes narrowed on Levi like he was the scum of the world.

Shaking himself out of it, Levi didn’t hesitate for another moment, rushing back into his room to grab the pitifully few things he had with him, including the leather jacket he had gotten from (Y/N), draping it over his shoulders to hide his healing injuries just in case it was a trick. The festival was still going on afterall, this could just be some ruse the old man set up to make the experience more interesting for the men and women who paid for him.

When Levi returned, the man pulled a gun from his jacket pocket and jerked his head, signaling Levi to follow him. Levi knew better than to risk running. In his full health he could’ve easily escaped from the man’s clutches, but with little more than a half hour of rest, his injured body, weak muscles, and the remnants of the drugs still working through his system, Levi didn’t trust himself to outrun a bullet, and knew the pig wouldn’t hesitate to fire, no matter how valuable Levi was to him. 

Even though Levi kept expecting the brothel owner to turn down a secluded street and lead him right into an ambush or trick of some sort, he never did, leading Levi right to the stairs exiting the Underground. When they reached the guards at the base of the stairs, the man took two slips of paper from the inner pocket of his worn brown coat and showed it to the guard. When he was cleared to continue on, the brothel owner turned and motioned for Levi to stay close as he stomped his way up the stairs, grumbling incoherently to himself all the while.

Breaching the surface, Levi brought an arm to his face, shielding his eyes from the intensity of the sun as it attacked his face with warm, bright light. He eventually got used to it, slowly lowering his arm and rushing to catch up with his boss, who was impatiently grunting for him to hurry up.

Passing through what appeared to be a busy market square, Levi followed the brothel owner along the lively cobblestone streets until they reached a quieter part of the town, stopping along the edge of a beautiful flower field, the grassy meadow filled with colorful blossoms that secretly took Levi’s breath away.

The sound of horse hooves caught his attention, and Levi looked up only to have the air fly from his lungs when (Y/N)’s bright face came into view, the stunning woman seated astride whom he assumed to be Sashay and flanked by two armed men.

“Right on time,” the brothel owner grumbled, his little pig eyes narrowing when he saw her passive aggressive smile.

“Of course I’m on time, this is my deal, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man growled. “Are you sure you want this one? He’s my most popular, I’d hate to lose him.”

“Yes, he’s the one I want. Besides, I believe the money I’ve paid you has far exceeded the profit you have earned from having him around. I’m sure you will be able to manage.”

The man sneered at her but didn’t respond, using the muzzle of the gun to push Levi forward and digging in his pocket to fish out the same pieces of paper he had shown the guards on the stairs, handing them to (Y/N).

“Thank you, sir. I believe we are done here.”

The brothel owner slunk off, casting dark looks at her but refusing to argue as he hunkered off to head back down to the Underground, where he would continue to rot like the rat he was. Levi watched him go before turning to (Y/N), surprised by the bright smile she flashed him when he met her gaze.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

(Y/N) smiled even wider and held up the pieces of paper she had been handed. One of them was the file labeling him as a slave to the brothel owner, keeping him from escaping, and the other was a bill of sale. His eyes widened when he saw her signature on the bottom of both pages, officially registering her as his new owner. He opened his mouth, about to speak when she took both pages in her hands and ripped them in half, letting the torn pages float onto the street below, forgotten, useless.

“There, you’re free now.”

Levi was at a loss for words, his mouth gaping open. “(Y/N)? What-”

“Before you ask me what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your life, your sacrifice, your pain, and I decided I could do something about it. You are human, and damn it, you are an important one! I couldn’t just leave you there. Now, you won’t have to work for anyone but yourself. You won’t have to cater to anyone else’s needs and you can fulfill whatever dreams you have.”

“But, that must’ve cost you a fortune, to cover more than the amount of money he’s made off of using me? What about-”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Levi. I want to use my funds for good, put them towards the people who need it the most. That includes you. Especially you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to stay in that shit hole for even a second longer than necessary.”

“What do I do now, then?” Levi asked, trying to focus on keeping his voice steady.

“Well, you can do whatever you want now. You’re a free man, you can find a house and settle down somewhere, or you can go back to the Underground and pick up your life where you left off. You can join the military, or you can start a small business here in the square. It’s anything you want. You get to choose your life now.”

“And what if I don’t want to do any of those things?”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that flashed across her face then, her heart filling with warmth. “Like I said, it’s your choice, you can do whatever you want, carve your own path, but if you want to come with me, you’re always welcome to.”

Levi’s lip twitched and he took a step forward, reaching up to pat Sashay’s muzzle as he got closer. “Alright, I’ll follow you.”

(Y/N) beamed before turning around to nod at each one of her guards, dismissing them. When they had left, presumably returning to (Y/N)’s family estate, she reached down for him, her hand extended for him to take. Placing his rough palm into her warm hand, he allowed her to help him up into the saddle behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep himself secure as (Y/N) kicked Sashay into an easy canter. Sighing blissfully, Levi let himself relax, his chin coming down to rest on (Y/N)’s shoulder as they made their way home, together.

Levi had never expected to see the day when he would willingly go with a noble, but then again, he never thought he’d ever meet a noble like (Y/N). Now, as he felt her warmth soak into his chest, he knew he’d made the right decision.

Levi finally felt the remnant effects of the drugs in his system fade away as the sun beams broke through the fluffy clouds in the sky, leaving his mind clear. He was making this decision all on his own, nothing left to impair his judgement, and no matter what, he knew he would never regret the path he chose to take just so long as (Y/N) stayed by his side.

[luminescencefics]

fade in, fade out: deleted scene

"Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Hi all! In honor of Fic Slam 2, here is a Fade chapter six deleted scene. You don’t have to be caught up on the story to understand it as it can completely stand alone, but if you’d like to get a glimpse of Harry and Nora’s world, click here to check it out! Thanks to the lovely as ever @oh-honey-styles for putting this together. I can’t wait to see what everybody else has come up with!

1k word count

my masterlist // read below:

***

Harry was drunk again.

It’s not like he really had any other choice in the matter, considering his mates were buying him round after round and the girl he’s been both simultaneously terrified and begging to talk to has barely spared him a second look in the past two hours.

He really doesn’t blame her, though.

Because things have been unbearably awkward ever since she first stepped on English soil and unknowingly ran into him that night at the pub nearly a month prior. A month filled with longing and confusion and wonder and a ridiculous amount of feelings Harry hasn’t let himself think about in the three years since his eyes last fell on hers.

Harry has so much to make up for—so much grovelling, so much apologizing, so much owning up to do that the weight of it all is practically unimaginable to him.

But like most boys at the ripe age of twenty-two, Harry is a coward. So he sits. And he drinks.

His tactic of avoiding and observing her from a distance seems to be working, because from his vantage point on the other side of the crowded room, his body leaning against the sticky beer-coated cherrywood bar top, he can watch the way her newly dyed dark brown hair flits whenever she turns her head to continue a conversation with her new girlfriends. He can practically hear the melodic giggle falling from her pouty, raspberry stained lips whenever somebody says something worth laughing about. He can practically feel the warmth of her gaze as her bright blue eyes squint in adoration whenever she speaks to somebody she feels undeniably comfortable around.

Because it’s Nora fucking Priestley, and everything she does seems to affect Harry in the most impressive yet terrifying way. It’s as if he’s a livewire and every single time Nora giggles or smiles or leaves a lipstick stain on her pint glass, Harry flinches with the possibility of rupture. His heart does things his drunken brain can’t seem to comprehend, and when her blue eyes fall onto his hazy greens and she stares at him with a look he can’t decipher, Harry feels his stomach bottom out. He doesn’t realize how tightly he’s clutching onto his pint glass until the skin surrounding his knuckles are painted white and practically ripping at the seam, and it’s only when she looks away when Harry feels his lungs expanding for a proper breath, and he nearly collapses under the weight of it.

He needs another fucking drink.

Somehow he’s ended up alone in the ripped, red-leather clad booth, an empty beer and shot glass in front of him. He’s been staring at the same chipped wood for so long that he hasn’t realized that the rest of his mates have upped and left him until the gentle thud of a smaller body falls into the seat near him. Suddenly, the smell of sandalwood and rosebud flood through his nostrils, and he doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s her. The pathetic drumline of his heart thundering underneath his expensive dress shirt practically gives him away.

“Are you ever going to talk to me?” Nora’s quiet voice asks, and Harry’s surprised he can hear it over the loud clamor of the band from the stage in front of them.

He looks up then, sad green eyes looking into blue. It still shocks him how familiar she feels, his body practically rendered motionless when he feels the warmth of her smooth skin, remembers the quirk of her upper lip, refamiliarizes himself with the beauty marks littering her face.

God, he misses her so much, to the point where he can hardly breathe sometimes.

“I don’t know what to say to you, I just—I don’t want to fuck up anymore. ‘S all I seem to do whenever I’m around you. So not saying anything is the—’s just the better alternative.”

“So you won’t talk to me, but you’ll stare at me from across the bar?” Nora asks with a teasing grin.

Harry laughs a bit, his cheeks pinkening when he realizes his tactics were not as subtle as he originally planned.

With a shrug, Harry says, “Can’t help it, you’re too pretty not to look at.”

Now, Nora’s the one blushing. “I think you’ve had one too many of these, mister,” she says, flicking her navy-painted fingernail against his empty pint glass. The action causes her bare arm to brush against his, and Harry shudders at the simplest form of contact.

God, he really is pathetic.

She’s a bit closer now, and without really thinking of the repercussions, Harry grasps at her wrist gently and observes the color coating her fingernails a bit closer.

“Hm, ‘s nice. Brings out your eyes,” he whispers, suddenly realizing how closely they’re sitting to one another. Nora’s kneecap is digging into the meat of Harry’s thigh, and the point of her elbow is resting on the sticky table while her forearm brushes the material of his shirt covering his ribs.

“You aren’t even looking at my eyes,” Nora whispers back, her body quivering when Harry lifts his gaze from her bitten lips to her darkened pupils.

Harry licks his bottom lip, coating the dry skin with his saliva until they look alive again—two glistening pink pillows that Nora remembers thinking about long after she first tasted them nearly three years ago in her tiny Townbridge dorm room in the middle of winter.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” Harry asks, leaning a centimeter forward so that Nora can feel the warmth of his breath against her skin.

“Do you want me to?” she asks timidly, feeling his thumb gently caress her palm, his digit creating a tantalizing path from wrist to palm, back and forth, the sensation embarrassingly dizzying.

“Nora, I think I’ll die if you don’t kiss me ever again.”

Nora feels a breath trapped in her lungs, a hitch of her breath as she flicks her eyes back and forth, zeroing in on the enlargement of his pupils when he realizes that she hasn’t backed away from him yet. The revelation is so honest and so un-Harrylike that Nora isn’t sure why her lips aren’t fastened to his own yet, and when she finds that she hasn’t blinked in nearly sixty seconds, she brings her face just a bit closer to his, a subtle shift that causes the loud noise of the pub to fade into the background.

And just when she’s about to close the small distance between them, the tips of their noses brushing as their lips hover dangerously close to the others, sporadic spurts of hot breaths passing between the two like a secret, Piper calls Nora’s name from the bar, causing the sound of the busy pub to come crashing back into her ear canals, forcing Nora to spring backwards as if Harry’s lips were made of fire.

“Nora! Refills!” Piper yells over drunkenly, seemingly unaware that she interrupted Nora and Harry’s second first kiss in almost three years.

“I, uh—I should go,” Nora says quickly, cheeks permanently stained red as she tries her hardest to regulate her breathing.

“Yeah,” Harry says defeatedly, watching as she scrambles out of the old leather booth and stumbles over to the bar without looking at him over her shoulder.

When she’s finally gone, Harry sinks into the leather seating, slamming his head back against the booth as he struggles to get his erratic heartbeat back to the standard sixty beats per minute. His fingers itch for another drink, and when he maneuvers his legs out from under the table, he nearly flinches at the sudden tightness of his pants.

He looks down, noticing the slightly risen bump covering the front of his dark jeans, and he sighs frustratedly, running a shaking hand through his long, mangled curls.

He’s half-hard and embarrassed beyond disbelief at the fact that Nora’s lips barely grazing against his own roused such a reaction out of him.

Harry Styles truly is pathetic—pathetic, indeed.

***

[ausp-ice]

I have been itching to have a world where I can indulge in robot-alien aesthetics for Ages, so I dug up an idea from an old dream and developed it into a new species: Phelions!

The Phelions are a closed species of mine. They are symbiotic biomechanical entities, largely humans who have fused with a fragment of a mysterious meteor of alien origins that exploded into countless fragments over Earth many years ago. For more information, see the full species info here. I also have a channel for the Phelions in my Discord server.

Here is the first Phelion for myself, Aleiren!

Owner: Me

Name: Aleiren Gender: Agender Pronouns: they/any Masterlist: #1 TH Profile

Intro A Phelion who is primarily part of the Research division of the Academy. They are intent on uncovering the origin of the Phelion meteor and Aphels, at times to the extent of workaholism.

About Most days, Aleiren is a very single-minded and task-oriented individual, focused on furthering their goals of uncovering the secrets of the origin of Phelions. They have always been one who finds it difficult to stop moving, to stop doing, to just relax, and now they have latched onto the singular purpose of discovery.

They do enjoy their work, but that may make it harder in some ways - when is it duty and when is it pleasure? And that was before they'd linked momentarily to the Aphel hivemind, spurring on an even greater fascination with the alien entities.

Despite all this, there are days where they simply cease to function properly. There may be sudden bursts of intense anxiety, exhaustion, inability to handle social interaction (they can possibly handle one person at a time at most), and/or a general feeling of being overwhelmed. They prefer to spend most of their time in their Phelion form, though for these moments they may revert to human form briefly.

It is on these days that Aleiren indulges in their comforts - soft blankets, soft pillows, and soft plushies. They are not ashamed of it at all, but while they're still in workaholic mode they feel that there is no time to indulge.

History Even before Aleiren, or Len as they were called before, became a Phelion, they were already interested in them. They were interested in researching the science of Phelions - what made them the way they are, how they worked, everything.

They were 15 when they realized they were already in an integration stage, with Phelion fragments already within them and changing them. They immediately applied to be brought to the Academy, and they were soon accepted. They bid their goodbyes to their parents, who had always been supportive but emotionally distant, and entered a shuttle alongside other integration-stage humans who could not freely travel to the Academy.

With the Academy's resources and support, Len got through the worst of the integration stage in addition to completing minimum Research qualifications in only two years. Kaluin himself spoke with them then, slightly concerned at their breakneck pace for their age. Despite Len being terribly intimidated by the founder of the Academy, the two struck up a decent rapport, and Kaluin accepted that Len was simply one to go at breakneck speeds.

It was not long after that Len experienced their first Shift and chose the name Aleiren. After that, they began the practical side of their Defense and Exploration studies, making enough progress to have prospects of achieving qualifications for both within two years.

It was during a practical session out in space when there was an early and unexpected Aphel invasion. Since they were outside the barrier already, their instructor decided that they would fight and put their knowledge to the test. However, even as more Phelions arrived to help, they were pushed back. For everyone's safety, the fight was brought to one of the designated areas in the Academy, where the barrier was let down to draw the focus of the Aphels.

Aleiren, as a fairly inexperienced fighter, was unfortunately incapacitated first by having a limb separated from them, and while they were still recovering from the mental shock and odd sensation of it, they were bisected at their torso and rendered barely conscious. Their body pulled back together, but as soon as it did, their attacking Aphel interfaced with them and attempted to pull out their fragments. They woke as they heard their name, only for that to be torn away as they felt the overwhelming weight of the Aphel hivemind. As they felt the command - no, the mere unified will: Consume. Return.

They couldn't think. They weren't even themself, only a fragment in an astronomical sea. They were nothing.

And then there was a burst of clarity as most of the Aphel's tendrils were sliced away from them with a hard-light struct - they turned and recognized Kaluin, though it took a moment to work through the fog of the Aphel hivemind. In a desperate act, they grabbed the Aphel by its neck and tried to reverse the flow, absorbing the Aphel rather than the other way around. Their consciousness faded then, but they later discovered it had worked - after waking up in the medbay.

The experience of touching the Aphel hivemind shook them, but they managed to work through it and finish their qualifications, if with some effects. On their bad days, their anxiety might be worse or they may experience something like that crushing will, making them feel like nothingness. Additionally, their fascination with the origin of Aphels grew tremendously. They wished to know, to understand.

And one day, they will.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Day 5 Birthday Plot Bunnies 2

If you want this to become my next WIP, be sure to shower it with lots of love!!  🥰 ��� All the story starters will be linked back to this masterpost.

Title: For the Love of My Husband

Summary: Bilbo is a thief and a conman who has tricked Thorin, Crown Prince of Erebor, to marry him as an escape from a tight spot. He thought their marriage was happily enough, but Thorin feels a disconnect from the hobbit he’s married. To appease his family and strengthen their bond, Thorin asks Bilbo to take the Trial of Souls with him. Problem is, Bilbo doesn’t want Thorin to know anything about him because they are most assuredly not Ones. And if Thorin learns the truth, Bilbo will find himself back in the streets or worse...

In a darkened pub deep under the kingdom of Erebor, a hobbit and a dwarf squared off. The waiting crowd was near silent as they waited to see what would happen next. The dark haired beast of a dwarf looked fairly confident as he shared a smirk with his two friends directly behind him.

“What’ll it be, Took? Fold or settle?”

The hobbit nonchalantly lifted his overturn cup to sneak a peek at the two dice lying inside. 

“How about I raise you instead?”

It was silent for a moment before the dwarf, Drulik, burst into laughter followed by his cronies.

“Raise? You have nothing left to bet with.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure of that.” Bilbo stated before pulling out a silver harp-shaped brooch with thin golden strings.

The dwarves surrounding the gamblers all began murmuring at once, some trying to lean in for a closer view.

“Is that…?” One of Drulik’s dwarves gaped.

“Yes.” Bilbo announced calmly. “The Courting Gift of our dearly departed queen, Mahal rest her soul.”

“How did you get that?” Drulik demanded.

Bilbo gave him a wane smile as he tucked back into his vest with a pat. “It doesn’t matter. The question you should be asking is how much do you think it’s worth?”

The gambling den awaited Drulik’s long drawn out answer. It almost made the hobbit want to roll his eyes at the melodrama. However, after years on the streets, he knew a good show could sometimes be the difference between success and failure. And Bilbo didn’t fail. Finally, Drulik pulled out another bag, spilling the golden coins onto the pile between them.

“Settle.” Drulik demanded before revealing the contents under his cup.

The crowd cheered and whistled much to Drulik’s ego at the combined total of eleven from his dice. Nine Rings was a gambling game loved by Durin’s Folk and Men alike with a very simple premise. Highest total won. So you bet and bluff to convince your opponent that you have as close to twelve beneath the cup as possible. However, there was one small exception. Nine always trumped any other number. Therefore, when Bilbo lifted his cup to reveal the five and four, there was a near frenzy of excitement. Drulik was rendered speechless as Bilbo lifted his pint in cheer before downing the ale all in one go. Producing a sack from his coat pocket, he raked all the golden coins towards him.

“Well lads, this has been more excitement than any hobbit can take, but I think I’m going to leave now while my fortunes are in my favor.”

“You cheated.” Drulik growled. “You had to have.”

“Check my dice if you wish.” Bilbo offered with a shrug.

The tavern owner, Nifror, who ran as honorable a den as one could for thieves and ruffians was at their table in a flash. Bilbo had heard a tale that the last dwarf who cheated at the game got their loaded dice pinned, one to each hand, with a knife made by Nifror’s wife. He threw the dice a few times and each time they landed with a different number. He shrugged.

“The hobbit’s clean.”

“But that’s impossible.” One of Drulik’s own gaped.

“Yeah, we loaded them ourselves!” The other snarled.

There was a pause and then Old Nifror was on them in a flash. Some moved to help the old barkeep out. The rest roared and placed bets on the winner. Meanwhile, Bilbo used this as the perfect opportunity to sneak away. He dropped the loaded dice he had smuggled into his pocket on the ground with a snort. Like he would be that stupid. Now most would have worried walking around with that much gold around the dregs of Erebor’s underworld. Fortunately, Bilbo was a professional at remaining quiet and unseen. A talent he had been forced to pick up early in his life. Which is why he nearly screamed when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Make a good haul?” The dwarf smirked.

Bilbo turned around with a glare. “You know you don’t have to be so smug every time you manage to catch me off guard.”

Nori, Bilbo’s oldest and dearest friend, just raised an eyebrow as he tried and failed to hide the mischievous superiority oozing from his every pore.

“Just like to remind you, you’re not the best just yet.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes as he continued on his way knowing the dwarf was following.

“We both know I was headed to your place eventually so is there a reason you’re bugging me now?”

“Can I not worry over the sake of my friend?” Nori gasped overdramatically.

Bilbo snorted but made no arguments or agreements.

“Well, if I were coming to find you, it might have something to do with the fact that your husband finished up his duties early today to surprise you.”

The coin he was holding nearly slipped from his suddenly numb fingers.

“Valar above!” Bilbo swore. “That dwarf. He’s positively incorrigible!”

“He’s in love.” Nori pointed out.

Bilbo scoffed. “Love. Well shit, looks like you’re going to have to take this to our hiding place for me.”

Bilbo shoved the bag of gold into the dwarf’s chest before power walking towards the secret tunnels. Nori kept stride with him, clearly not done delivering bad news.

“Are you anywhere close to the right amount?”

“I’ve nearly two-thirds at this point.”

“Bilbo, you only have a week left.”

“I’m well aware, Nori! Maybe it's enough to...buy me more time.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t the whole point of you marrying some rich noble supposed to give you easy access to the treasury?”

“It was, but there was one teeny detail we didn’t take into account.”

“What’s that?”

Bilbo paused, his face falling into a grimace. “In-laws.”

***

One of the first things Bilbo and Nori did upon their rushed and unplanned move to Erebor from Ered Luin was scope out the best places for a quick getaway. They just so happened to make kind with a chatty miner named Bofur who, while deep in his cup, told them that the royal wing originally was meant to be on the other side of the mountain. When the architects realized the disadvantage of having the royal family so far from the guards’ posts and war meeting rooms, rather than just move the furniture back down only to go back up on the correct side, they cut unmapped tunnels around the outside of the mountain. It also had the added advantage of getting their monarchy out quicker in the case of a coup if the knowledge hadn’t been lost through time. It was perfect for the thieves’ needs. In almost no time at all, Nori and Bilbo had found the tunnels and utilized them fully. 

Something the hobbit was thankful for now as he flew down the tunnel to get back to his room. He welcomed the blast of mountain wind to rapidly cool the sweat on his face before ducking back into the opposite entrance. There was a small alcove where Bilbo’s fancier clothes lay and he all but threw himself out of his worn threads for the finer silks and cotton. The last thing he did was pocket the brooch before sprinting back down the tunnel braiding and beading his hair on the run. Once he was back in the royals’ wing, he ducked his head out to make sure the coast was clear, and then silently made his way to his suite. After closing the door behind him, Bilbo relaxed against it, heaving a sigh of relief.

“And just where have you been, Husband of Mine?”

Bilbo prided himself on the fact that he did not squeak even if he did jump nearly two feet in the air. Thorin, Prince of Erebor, was lounging in the armchair by the fireplace looking rather pleased with himself. Bilbo attempted to calm his racing heart as he stepped forward, plastering what he hoped to be a loving grin on his face.

“Just a walk on the cliffs with Nori. Surely, you would not deny this hobbit the feel of fresh air and sunshine?”

Thorin stood at that point, meeting him about halfway. His thumb gently caressed Bilbo’s cheek.

“If I had it my way, I would deny you nothing, ukradê (my greatest heart).”

Bilbo hummed in practiced delight as he met his husband’s lips with his own. The hobbit was at least content with the knowledge that as far as dwarves went, Thorin was stunningly handsome. Not a sentiment necessarily shared with others of his race. Which worked out just fine for Bilbo as it left a prince of all things, uncommitted and available.

“By the way, look what I found this morning.” Bilbo stepped back with a teasing smile as he produced the brooch from his pocket.

“My mother’s brooch!” Thorin gaped as he took it reverently. “Where…?”

“It was under my bed. You must have dropped it when you paid me a surprise visit last night.”

Thorin smirked as he latched onto Bilbo’s hips. “I remember the night well.”

Oh, and he was a really, really good bed partner. No, Bilbo was well aware he could have it much worse. It was just the dwarf’s nauseating romanticism that nearly caused him to roll his eyes more than once. Thorin gave him a long lingering kiss before he bent forward to press his forehead against Bilbo’s own. Their hands found their way into each other’s naturally interlocking.

“I promise, it won’t always be like this.” Thorin murmured when he finally pulled away, his blue eyes shining brightly.

Like this. The dwarf was so dramatic. It constantly made Bilbo feel like some player performing for the court. Heaving a sigh as he looked down between their conjoined hands. 

“We’ve been married for eight months, and two of those have been spent here in Erebor. If your family was going to accept me, they would have done so by now.”

Thorin released his hands so he could lift Bilbo’s chin to look at him.

“Don’t lose faith yet, amrâlimê (my love). I have a plan.”

It was a good thing Bilbo was a talented actor. He laughed, causing Thorin to smile.

“You have a plan? That sounds dangerous.”

“Tease all you want, but I have all the confidence in this plan.”

“Well, out with it. What have you come up with?”

Thorin shook his head teasingly. “You’ll have to wait. I want it to be a surprise.”

Bilbo linked his arms around the dwarf’s neck for leverage as he started showering him with kisses at his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and his throat.

“And I couldn’t persuade you to tell me any sooner?”

“You are cruel, thundanûd (tiny embrace).” Thorin moaned, his hands resting on Bilbo’s arms.

“It’s only cruel if you don’t accept the invitation.” Bilbo teased back as he pulled at the prince’s tunic to allow him access to his collarbone.

Thorin shuddered once with want before finding the strength to pull away. He grasped Bilbo’s hands again as he kissed him deeply as an apology.

“Later. There will be time later. But now...we are having dinner with my family.”

Bilbo’s building fire of lust was immediately doused, a small frown settled on his forehead that Thorin attempted to kiss away. Lovely, the in-laws.

It certainly wasn’t that Bilbo wanted them to like him. He could honestly care less. It was just their dislike of him that made it really difficult for him to do...well, much of anything. Thrain, still mourning the loss of his dead wife, remained suspicious and hardened against Bilbo for the sheer fact that he was a hobbit. Their marriage had yet to be announced to the Council or even the mountain in general. Keeping Bilbo out of the public eye was Thrain’s number one priority which was certainly no hardship. It was Frerin and Dis he had the biggest problems with. Thorin’s brother and sister, ever loyal to him, seemed to think Bilbo wasn’t good enough for the dwarf, and constantly had Balin, the royal advisor, keeping tabs on him. Bilbo was reluctant to admit the dwarf’s keen eyes and sharp wit, but it had taken quite a few of Bilbo’s best moves to lose his tails before entering the secret tunnels.

Therefore, coming together in the Royal Dining Room for “family dinners” was a...stilted affair. There were only two redeeming features to those evenings. One, it was always the best food Bilbo had ever eaten in his life. And two, Thorin’s nephews, Fili and Kili, were not the least bit bothered by him and had some story worth telling that took the edge of him for a little bit at least.

“And then the axe sailed through the air and straight into the boar’s head. So technically, technically we aren’t responsible for the mess in the trophy room.” Kili finished.

“No.” Vili, their father snorted. “Just responsible for startling the poor guard that set off the chain of events.”

“Well how were we supposed to know he was right there?” Fili defended.

Bilbo snorted in spite of himself. “Watch the shadows.”

He immediately tensed after he said it as he waited for the barrage of insults to be hurtled his way.

“Spoken like a true thief.” Dis sneered.

Yep, right on cue.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t corrupt my sons.” She continued.

“Namad…” Thorin warned softly.

Thrain’s hand met the tabletop in a harsh bang. “What have I said about speaking our language in front of the Halfling?!”

Bilbo sighed and turned his attention to his soup as the line of Durin flexed their tempers. Thorin rising to his defense, Dis and Thrain attempting to argue their points louder, Frerin leaving snide quips here and there, and Vili trying and failing to keep the peace. The joy of family dinners.

“Actually, while we’re on this subject, I have something to say.” Thorin demanded, his voice low and regal. “I will be gone the remainder of the week.”

Everyone, including Bilbo, froze and stared up at Thorin in relative confusion and outrage. The prince’s eyes were boring holes straight into his father whose scowl would be enough to frighten wargs off at this point.

“And just where will you be?” The king finally spat.

Thorin reached down for Bilbo’s hand making the hobbit supremely discomforted. Thorin’s eyes were soft and pleading though as they met his.

“We will be taking the Trial of Souls.”

“We’ll be doing what now?” Bilbo questioned.

“Thorin…” Dis murmured at a surprisingly subdued volume, her eyebrows knitted together.

“Finally! A sensible idea!” Frerin declared. 

All eyes rested on the brunette as he raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you think? I mean, to put it bluntly, everyone at this table has been trying to convince Thorin out of this marriage in some way. When they don’t emerge from the tunnels together, that would be a pretty good indicator of the truth.”

“We haven’t. We like Bilbo.” Kili reminded softly.

Bilbo shot the troublemakers a quick smile of thanks. They were idiots, but they were sweet. Meanwhile, Thrain was rubbing his beard in thought before nodding once.

“Yes, this will do well. In fact, if you make it through all five chambers, I’ll hold a feast in honor and publically accept your union.”

Thorin nodded, still looking rather cross with his father. “As I’d hoped.”

Bilbo found he couldn’t take it anymore. “Now, wait! Wait just a minute! What is this...Trial of Souls?”

Thorin stared at his father for permission, and the king granted it almost the picture of satisfaction. Being a gambler, it made Bilbo largely nervous as Thorin turned back towards him.

“It’s a series of tests to prove two dwarves...or in our case, a dwarf and a hobbit, are Ones.”

Bilbo’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times, but no words were able to come out.

“Problem, Halfling?” Dis questioned with mock innocence.

“Thorin, a moment if you please.” Bilbo was finally able to say as he pulled his stone-headed husband out into the hall.

“Are you serious?!” He finally rounded on him.

“What?” Thorin questioned.

“Thorin, I…” Bilbo fought for the right words without making this worse. “I don’t understand. What exactly do we have to prove? We’re married. Shouldn’t that be enough?!”

Thorin sighed. “It should. You are correct, ibinê (my gem). But don’t you see? It’s perfect! My family will be satisfied by our success at the Trials, and it’ll be irrefutable evidence to the rest of the mountain if any rose to challenge us. And politics aside, I want this for us.”

“Us?” Bilbo repeated too numb to be completely in control of his mouth.

“Yes!” Thorin nodded eagerly. “Couples that pass the Trials of Souls find they become closer than ever. Our...relationship hasn’t been for very long, and I respect that your past is painful to you, but I want to know you azyungel (love of loves). I want to know everything there is to know about my husband, and share myself in return. What do you say?”

Now being a hardened thief, the hobbit knew a thing or two about how to get out of a seemingly hopeless situation. However, as his mind swirled and swirled around the damnable logic of Thorin’s decision, he found himself becoming dizzy and nauseated. That was it then. Bilbo was doomed. He had just enough time to get out a soft ‘nope’ before he fell over in a dead faint.

[thatsjustsupergirl]

rewatching 6x11 for podcast prep so let’s have some fun this beat is sick

no really, the score for this magic battle is great i love it

we had originally planned to do an episode about all the series references to harry potter over the hiatus and now i’m so very sad we didn’t bECAUSE,,,,,,

mxy is laying out this ye olde folktale like we’re about to get deathly hallow’d

anyway then we get some speedy setup for the main question of the season, which is: what ultimately gives us power— our abilities or what we choose to do with them?

fun fact this concept was also relevant to kara’s arc in season 3 when she was stuck in her mind palace and that was also a harry potter nod [x]

you all have no idea how many unprompted musical interludes we cut from our show but mxy attempting to sing his exposition here truly sparked joy

Every time they mention that Nyxly’s brother is named “Jared,” my brain immediately cuts to this SNL sketch:

who are you, nyxly?

ANYWAY,

we’re also going to search for horcruxes i guess because there are seven totems but apparently they can be anything so i really hope they go for a visual gag like the pieces of eight from pirates of the caribbean world’s end because those were literal pocket litter

hey neat mxy explaining this whole blood requirement for magic that will definitely not be relevant again later in this episode 😈🧙🏻

and then, what’s this? a golden child and a scapegoat? surely that’s not a thing that happens in families with narcissistic parents and we are in no way being set up for more foil character stuff 👀

oh nia, your mom was right about the level of screw-up you did, but also your hair looks amazing

also the show has been going hard on Into the Woods motifs since 6x09 and here we have a cool subversion of Your Fault in which everyone feels overly responsible for what’s happened instead of trying to deflect the blame onto each other

a song that is, delightfully, interrupted by the Witch so she can gloat about how they’re all going to be squashed flat by a giant so i mean. giant cat works?

awww, this whole storyline with brainy and nia was so good we love healthy communication

also, the scene with nia and kara??? HEART EYES

hey look it’s those two friends who thought that using the most romantic line in "titanic" to seal their bond was somehow not even a little bit gay but this episode written by queer people knows exactly how gay it was and i just think that’s beautiful

i have been joking for literally three years about how they’ve been using elements of Wicked in this series and it’s always been tied to lena, so i am fucking rolling with laughter at this having a sudden and unexpected payoff

okay so that scene with kara jumping back afraid @ the phantom zone projector was was such a good reveal of how very Not Okay she is (and how not okay alex is either), and then her determination to Fix Everything even though she can’t is another part of that :(

really loving nyxly being like SOCIAL DISTANCING! with every zap of magic at her minion pal

was a cat the cheapest render they could get??? like. don’t get me wrong it’s so damn chaotic and weird and a way nyxly would get under kara’s skin but also it screams "i am conserving my budget"

nia has such fun mix of both kara and alex’s worst self-sacrificing qualities; also we love brainy using his unfortunate family legacy powers for good

nyxly is out here looking like a female jack sparrow and i so want this now

andrea like "the unknown is always scarier than the truth" tHIS IS ALSO RELEVANT TO INTO THE WOODS so i’m glad we’re leaning into all the witch stories all at once

speaking of which, they have held out for so long on doing a typically dramatic adoption-oriented storyline about birth parents and i’m frankly so glad they just went all in on making it as ridiculously campy as silver banshee’s origin story in season one i am hERE FOR IT

bonus points for the super 90s Practical Magic vibe to all the "lena’s mom" images and also for you have your mother’s eyes but to the extreme

nyxly @ mxy like

i really loved the conclusion to mxy’s arc that they put in this episode??? he’s so touched that they all want to help him and then he decides to help them in return even though it comes at great personal cost we love to see this continued depiction of kara’s legacy as a hero and that it’s really her compassion and willingness to Hope that are the winning factors

also, nia. my beautiful daughter. please hire me to interpret your dreams because i’m pretty sure you’re seeing a hint that you need lena to destroy that orb

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 26

A/N: I don’t usually say stuff like this but y’all can thank me later for the ending.

TW: mentions of covid-19

March 10th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was about to show Camden around Scotiabank Arena.

“Don’t touch anything that’s not yours to touch, okay?” she warned him as they were just outside the doors to the arena.  She looked down at him to make sure everything looked okay – that his hair was nicely brushed, that his shirt wasn’t wrinkled, that his pants weren’t drooping, that his shoes were tied – before she bent down.  “I mean it.  We’re taking extra cleaning protocols because of this coronavirus thing and you don’t want to make extra work for the cleaning staff, right?”

“Right,” he nodded his head.  “Don’t worry, Aberdeen.”

“And no touching the sticks.  The guys are super-finicky about their sticks.”

“No touching the sticks.”

“And no touching anything in their stalls, either.  A lot of them are superstitious so if one thing is off, they’ll know.”

“No touching the stalls.”

“And no touching the—”

“No touching!!!” he yelled, clearly getting the point.  “Can we go inside now?”

Aberdeen was nervous.  But Camden was a good kid.  She had confidence that he wouldn’t embarrass her.  “Yes, we can go in now,” she said, about to get back on her feet.  And then she remembered.  “But one last thing—”

“Aberdeeeeeeeeeeeen!”

“The most important thing,” she said over him.  “You cannot tell anyone William Nylander came to our house for Christmas and you cannot talk like you’ve met him before.”

Camden nodded his head.  “I knooooow.  William spending Christmas with us has to be a secret always and forever.  I get it.  Can we please go inside now so I can see everyone before mom and dad get here?”

Aberdeen smiled.  What a kid.  “Let’s go,” she said, standing up and putting her arm around his back as they walked into the arena together.  Aberdeen flashed her fob to open the door and led Camden towards the elevators, taking it up to her office.  Camden was looking around at everything – everything was big and shiny and very sports-y, and he knew that if he was good, Aberdeen would take him to the Raptor’s locker room too.

“Heeeeey,” Brendan smiled as he saw Aberdeen ushering Camden into the office, getting up from his seat.  He’d never seen Aberdeen look so proud as she did as they walked into the room.  “How you doin’, buddy?  Remember me?  The candy man from Christmas?”

Camden nodded his head.  “Hello Mr. Shanahan.  I remember you,” Camden held out his hand.  

Brendan chuckled as he shook his little 11-year-old hand.  “You’re just like your sister.  Very formal.  She wouldn’t call me Brendan for months.”

Camden looked up at her.  “Yeah, mom and dad make sure we always call people mister and misses.  If we didn’t and mom heard about it, she’d have a fit.  Same with dad.”

“My mom was the same way, you know.  I think it’s because they grew up in Belfast,” Brendan winked.

“Probably.”

“So what do you want to see, bud?” Brendan asked.  “I don’t think you want to see the offices, right?  But not a lot of the guys are here yet.”

Camden looked around at Brendan’s office.  He clearly had something on his mind, though he seemed a bit nervous to say it.  “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

Camden bit his lip slightly.  “My sister told me the guys get to eat here if they want to.  But where do they eat?”

Brendan had the most amused look on his face.  Aberdeen couldn’t help but chuckle from behind Camden too.  “You want to go see catering?”

“I guess so.”

Brendan shook his head.  He loved kids.  “Then we’re going to catering.”

***

Camden, Aberdeen, and Brendan went to catering.  Camden met the head chef and got to stir some onions and garlic frying in a pan as the base for the pasta sauce that night.  He even helped set the menu, deciding to go for grilled chicken for the guys.  He originally suggested fried, but the chef told him the guys needed to eat clean and that if they had friend chicken, John Tavares would get mad at everyone for eating it, because they would eat it.  

They saw Kyle, who brought them out into the empty arena, and brought them all the way down to ice level where Aberdeen was able to take some pictures of him on the empty ice, on the Leafs bench, and even in the penalty box.  Camden got a kick out of it all, and got less shy and more boisterous as the minutes passed and Brendan and Kyle allowed him to do funny things.  He was even able to see the Zamboni.  He was smart enough not to ask if the man tending to it was David Ayres.  

When they were back in the corridors of the arena, Kyle looked down at Camden who was practically skipping through the hallways.  “I heard your sister got you a pretty cool Raptors jersey for Christmas,” Kyle said.

“Yup!” Camden nodded his head.  “A Kyle Lowry one.  He’s the coolest.  I wore it on my first day of school back from Christmas break and all my friends thought it was soooo cool.”

“Do you want to go into their locker room?” Kyle smiled, already knowing the answer.  

Camden’s eyes lit up like the fourth of July.  “Can I?!  For real?!” he asked.

“For real,” Kyle nodded.  “Come on, let’s go.  Maybe we can get a picture of you in Kyle Lowry’s stall.”

Fireworks were practically shooting out of Camden’s eyes as they walked inside of the dressing room.  He looked at every stall and every player’s name written at the top.  The only thing he could keep saying was “This is so cool!” and “Oh my God!”  Aberdeen hung out at the perimeter of the room as she watched him, letting Camden get the full effect.  He kept looking back at her and smiling from ear to ear, clearly not believing anything was real.  Aberdeen would smile back and urge him to keep looking.

Suddenly, she heard a door open from behind her.  She turned around quickly to see who it was and make sure she wasn’t in the way, but realistically, there shouldn’t have been anyone else there besides them, so she was skeptical.  When she saw who it was, her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.  “Oh, hello Miss Bloom!” Masai greeted her after he’d poked his head through the door.  He had a casual sports jacket on with a plain black polo shirt and a nice pair of pressed slacks.  “How are you?”

“I’m fine Mr. Ujiri.  How are you?”

“All good here.  What’s the occasion?” he asked, nodding his head towards Kyle, Brendan, and Camden.

“That’s my little brother Camden,” she said, only to see Masai’s smile grow.  “I think he feels like he’s won the lottery right now.”

“Camden?” he clarified the name in a low voice.  She nodded her head before watching him close the door and step into the locker room confidently.  “Hello Camden!” he beamed.

Camden whipped his head around.  When he saw that it was Masai Ujiri, his face dropped.  Brendan and Kyle smiled.  “Masai Ujiri?!” Camden yelled.

“That’s me!  Are you having fun?”

Camden didn’t know what to do.  He couldn’t formulate words, and he couldn’t move, and the step forward he took was mute when he froze in place because he didn’t think it was polite to hug Masai Ujiri, so he just sort of stood there in a weird stance with his jaw on the floor until he could formulate one simple word.  “Hi.”

Everybody laughed.  Masai made his way into the room.  “You’re a big Raptors fan?  Who’s your favourite?”

“K—K—Kyle Lowry,” Camden stuttered out.  

“Good choice,” Masai smiled.  “Do you want a picture in his stall?”

Camden could only nod enthusiastically.  He walked towards the stall, and Aberdeen knew it was her cue.  She took out her phone and began snapping pictures of him standing, sitting, pointing at Kyle’s name – everything.  Camden had the biggest smile ever on his face.  Then Masai posed with him too, and an even bigger smile appeared on his face.  It was all so cool.  And then—

“Hey!  Who’s that in my stall?”

A shiver went up Aberdeen’s spine.  From his spot in the stall, Camden’s face dropped again – if it was possible, even more this time than when Masai walked into the room.  She turned around to see the man himself, Kyle Lowry, walk into the room.  “What’s up, buddy?” Kyle asked, smiling from ear to ear.

“K—Ky—Ky—” Camden couldn’t get his name out.  “K—Kyle—”

“That’s me.  You having fun?” he asked.  Camden nodded.  “Have you ever been in here before?”

“N—No Mr. Lowry, I—I’ve just s—seen it on TV,” Camden stuttered out.  

“Who’s Mr. Lowry?  Call me Kyle,” he said as he walked towards him.  “You excited to be in here?” he asked.  Camden could only nod his head.  “You watch us at home?”

“I watch you at home with my dad all the time,” Camden said, which was true.  They’d watched almost all the games last season (until Camden’s bedtime, naturally), and he stayed up past his bedtime for all the playoff games.  This year, he and Mirza were continuing the tradition.  

“Do you have a jersey to wear while you watch them?”

“Aberdeen gave me a jersey for Christmas.”

Everyone laughed at his innocence.  It was only then that Aberdeen noticed a jersey draped over Kyle’s shoulder.  Even she was freaking out, because she knew how much this meant to Camden.  “So I guess you don’t want this one then?” Kyle asked, pulling the jersey off his shoulder.  He opened it up to reveal a vintage-style jersey, one with the original logo.  He took a Sharpie and asked Camden for his name and how to spell it before writing it on the jersey and signing it.  “You want a picture, buddy?” Kyle asked.  Camden could only nod.  He was too shocked.  Aberdeen was glad they were being so patient with him. 

They posed together with Kyle’s stall in the background, and then Masai joined in, and then Aberdeen got in, too.  Camden was rendered speechless.  When they were led out of the locker room, Kyle and Masai said goodbye before they disappeared into the elevator.  Kyle said a few parting words as well since he had to take an important phone call before the game.  Brendan left Aberdeen and Camden alone to go to his office, expecting Orla and Mirza anytime now.  It left Aberdeen and Camden alone, with Aberdeen knowing Camden was still star-struck by what just happened.

“Ab—Aberdeen,” Camden said finally, once the men were gone.  He was clutching onto the jersey so tight, like it would float away.  

“Are you alright, Cam?” she asked, bending down on her knee so she could look him in the eye.  

He shook his head.  “I w—wasn’t ready for that,” he said, his voice shaky.  “I didn’t—I didn’t look like a loser, did I?”

“What?  No way!” she exclaimed.  “Camden, you never look like a loser.”

“He was so cool Aberdeen!  I mean he’s Kyle Lowry!” he said as he began to cry.  

“C’mere,” she cooed, wrapping her arms around him tightly and pulling her brother in for a big hug.  “I know it was overwhelming, but that’s okay!  You just met your hero!  I bet if any of your other friends met their hero, they wouldn’t know what to do either,” she said, trying to get him to calm down.  

As Aberdeen continued to hug her brother, rubbing his back so he’d calm down a bit, she heard people making their way up the stairs, and soon, she saw William and Auston making their way up.  William noticed her first, looking her straight in the eye even though Auston was talking to him.  When Auston noticed him not responding, he looked and saw Aberdeen.  

“Hey,” William greeted them, looking at her skeptically.  “Everything okay?”

Aberdeen nodded her head against Camden’s shoulder.  “Camden just had a big moment,” she said, giving them both a look.  “He just met Masai Ujiri and Kyle Lowry.”

Both William’s and Auston’s eyes bulged out.  “Ooooooh, wow!” they cooed together.  “Dude, that’s so awesome!” Auston said, sounding excited, trying to make Camden as comfortable as possible as Aberdeen let go of the hug so Camden could face Auston and Willy.

“I’d be the same way, bud!  Don’t worry!” William said as he noticed the nervous and embarrassed look on Camden’s face as he wiped away whatever few tears fell.  He noticed the jersey hanging from Camden’s other hand.  “Is that it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Let’s see it,” Auston said gently.

Camden unfolded it gently, as if the autograph would rub off.  When the guys noticed that it was a vintage jersey, they commented on how cool it looked.  And when they finally saw the personalized autograph, they were all but screaming.  “I don’t even have one of these, bud!” Auston exclaimed.  “You’re sooooo lucky!”

“Yeah, me neither!” William joined in.  “You’ve gotta frame that or something.”

“I gotta show all my friends at school first,” he said.  The more Camden calmed down, the more he came to his senses.  He took a second and third look at the men in front of him – he of course noticed and knew William, but it was Auston who he finally realized was standing in front of him.  “Holy moly, you’re Auston Matthews!”

Auston giggled.  “Yes I am.”

“You…you’re the coolest!”

“Thanks, bud,” he said.  “Has your sister brought you into our locker room yet?”

Camden shook his head.  “Not yet.  There was nobody here yet so we went to catering.”

“Catering?!” William was shocked.  “You brought your brother to catering?!”

“I told him how you guys could eat before the game and he wanted to see!” Aberdeen tried to defend herself.  

William shook his head.  “Come on, Camden.  Let’s see who’s already here.”

With Auston leading the way and Camden in front of him, William looked back at Aberdeen behind him and winked at her.  “By the way Aberdeen, how do I look?” he asked.

She smiled.  “You look like if the song ‘Africa’ by Toto were a person.”

Auston threw his head back and cackled loudly like a seagull.  William shook his head.  Camden looked back at his sister.  “What’s Toto?  Isn’t that the dog from the Wizard of Oz?”

“Don’t worry about it, Cam,” she said.  

Camden was nervous as they approached the doors of the locker room, so he waited for his sister to be near him before he stepped through.  When he did, he was wide-eyed and amazed; he couldn’t believe he’d just been in the Raptor’s locker room and now he was in the Toronto Maple Leafs’ locker room, too.  Most of the guys were actually already in the room, but luckily they were not in various stages of undress yet.  Morgan was the first one to notice them – it was his first game back from injury, so his energy level was off the charts.  “Aberdeen!” he yelled her name, giant smile on his face.  His eyes moved to Camden.  “Who’s this?”

“This is Camden, my little brother,” she said, introducing him.  “Camden, that’s Morgan Rielly.  He’s one of our alternate captains and it’s his first game back tonight.”

“What’s up, Camden?” he asked, smiling gently.  

“Hello Mr. Rielly.”

“Camden just met Masai Ujiri and Kyle Lowry, so he’s a bit shocked at everything right now,” Aberdeen said, making a face at Morgan that Camden couldn’t see.  

Morgan got the hint.  “That’s the jersey then, huh?” he pointed to the jersey still in Camden’s hands.  Camden nodded.  “Isn’t Kyle just so cool?” Morgan asked.

A smile spread on Camden’s face.  “He’s my faaaaavourite,” he said.

“Me too.”

“Do I hear a Bloom brother is here?” Tyson’s voice boomed from the other end of the locker room.  Aberdeen watched him walk through the door with a big smile on his face.  “What’s up?!  You must be Camden!”

“Hello Mr. Barrie.”

“You excited for the game tonight?”

Camden nodded.  “It’s my first ever hockey game.”

“First ever?!  Okay, we gotta make it extra special then,” Tyson smiled.  “Where are you sitting?”

Camden looked up to Aberdeen, because he didn’t have a clue.  “Mom, dad, and Camden are sitting in row 20 at centre ice,” she said.  “If he’s good he’ll be back after the game too.  But only if he’s good.”

“Hey!  I’m always good!” he objected.

“I’m not sure about that.”

***

As Aberdeen sat with Brendan in the box, she noticed him checking his phone a lot more than usual.  It was especially peculiar because this was a game against Tampa Bay – a very good team and many saw this as a must-win for the Leafs, especially since they won their last game against Tampa Bay on her birthday.  And like with the game in Ottawa, when Siena was there, and on her birthday, when he scored that insane between-the-legs goal, William was just showing off.  He was playing great, and had scored a goal in the first period.  Aberdeen knew he was hamming it up for her and her family, knowing they were in attendance.  

When Auston scored in the third period to get the score to 2-1, Brendan was happy but it didn’t last long.  He began furiously typing away on his phone.  She wondered if there was a problem with one of his kids or with Catherine.  He usually wasn’t this distracted during games.

“Is everything okay, Brendan?” she asked once the final buzzer went.  The Leafs had won 2-1 and she thought he’d be much happier.

He pursed his lips together, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head.  “Trying to keep up on the coronavirus,” he said.  The media had already been put at bay and weren’t allowed close to the players anymore.  She wondered if new restrictions were being implemented and the media wrote a pissy open letter demanding access again.  “It’s not looking good.  I mean, the entire country of Italy is in a fucking lockdown.  They can’t control this thing.”

Aberdeen heard that news yesterday.  It was a shock to her, mainly because she didn’t think it was possible an entire country could go into lockdown.  But the north was getting rattled by it, and it seemed like the only logical thing to do, however draconian it was.  She had a lot of Italian friends from high school whose family were still in Italy and were affected by it.  “What do you think will happen?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” he said.  “I mean…it’s getting serious.  Really serious.  And I’m not convinced it can be contained like we all hope it can be,” he said.  

“What do you think will happen with us?” she followed up.

“If…ah, I honestly don’t know, Aberdeen.  They could postpone games by a few days.  I mean, I think that’s the worst-case scenario right now – everything being delayed by a couple of weeks.”

Aberdeen bit her lip.  “Yeah…I guess that’s totally worst-case scenario.”

“Absolute worst-case scenario,” Brendan repeated.  “Do I think it will get that bad?  I don’t know.  I don’t think so.  But I have no clue about these things.”

“What…I mean, the directive has to come from the league, right?” she asked.

“Of course.  It always comes from the top down.  We’ll see what happens.  We can’t worry about hypotheticals.”

Aberdeen nodded.  He was right.  “So I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday when Nashville is in town?”

“You betcha.  Let me walk you down and say goodbye to your family.”

***

Aberdeen had barely taken her shoes off when she got into her condo before she felt her phone buzz in her hand.  

can i see u?

She couldn’t believe him.  But at the same time, she could.

You’re lucky you can.

i’ll be there in 5

She took the five minute opportunity to change out of her work clothes and take off her makeup.  When the calling buzz rang from her phone, she immediately let him in.  Within minutes, he was knocking at her door, and she was letting him in like she always did.  

“How’s your brother?” he asked as he took off his shoes.  

“He’s fine,” she smiled slightly, liking that William was asking about him.  Camden had returned to the Leafs locker room after the game (if the media found out, she knew they’d have a hissy fit since they weren’t even allowed back there, but Brendan didn’t care) and Auston gave him his game-worn jersey, which all the guys ended up signing.  By the end of the night, all of the excitement of the day and the game had caught up to him, and he was practically falling asleep standing up.  “He was tired by the end but I could tell it was the best day of his life.”

“He’s a cute kid,” William commented.  “You guys are alike, you know.”

“How?” Aberdeen was curious.

“You’re both…like, pure.  You both light up the room when you enter it,” he smiled.  The shy smile on her face was his favourite.  He approached her, not wanting to wait any longer.  “Is Kasha home?” he asked before he put his arm around her.  

“No.  She’s with Evan tonight,” Aberdeen said.

“Sleeping over?”

Aberdeen nodded, a smirk on her face.  “Aren’t you a lucky boy.”

William smiled.  “The luckiest boy in the world,” he mumbled, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her against his body.  

“You always know the perfect opportunities to show up,” she said.  “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re in cahoots with her as to when to come over and get in my pants.”

William chuckled, leaning down. “In cahoots?” he mumbled against her lips.  “The only thing or person I’m in cahoots with these days is you, minskatt.”

“Not Rasmus?” she asked.

He grumbled at her before deciding to get her to be quiet by kissing her.  When his lips planted on hers, she let out a slight gasp before wrapping her own arms around his shoulders, kissing him fully and sticking her tongue down his throat in no time at all.  As they kissed in the middle of her kitchen, William slipped his hands underneath her shirt and up to her bra, feeling her breasts through the cotton fabric.  “Bedroom?” he asked.

Aberdeen nodded.  “Please.”

***

March 11th, 2020

Good afternoon.  In the past two weeks, the number of cases of COVID-19 outside China has increased 13-fold, and the number of affected countries has tripled.  There are now more than 118,000 cases in 114 countries, and 4,291 people have lost their lives.  Thousands more are fighting for their lives in hospitals.  In the days and weeks ahead, we expect to see the number of cases, the number of deaths, and the number of affected countries climb even higher.  WHO has been assessing this outbreak around the clock and we are deeply concerned both by the alarming levels of spread and severity, and by the alarming levels of inaction.

We have therefore made the assessment that COVID-19 can be characterized as a pandemic.

***

Aberdeen’s brows were furrowed as she and Kasha watched TV, the both of them feeling like they were in the twilight zone or something.  The basketball game was supposed to have started, but never did.  People were rushing off the court.  Nobody knew what was going on, and the announcers were just speaking in hypotheticals.  It was all very confusing – that is, until, the headline came:

Rudy Gobert tests positive for coronavirus.

The girls couldn’t keep their eyes off the TV screen.  Now the Utah Jazz and the Oklahoma City Thunder were being quarantined inside the arena and being tested.  Just the other day, Rudy Gobert was making light of the entire situation and touching all of the reporters’ microphones after his interview with them.  Now he had the virus.

“Oh my God,” Kasha muttered as she looked down at her phone.  

“What?  What’s going on?” Aberdeen asked.

“Tom Hanks just announced he has it,” she announced, looking up.  

The girls looked at each other, speechless.

***

“Did you hear the NBA has suspended their season?” Aberdeen asked as she lay in her bed, holding her phone along the pillow as she looked at William through the screen.  He was doing the same thing.  His disheveled hair and sleepy blue eyes would have made her swoon in any other situation, but right now, she wasn’t swooning.  

“Yeah,” he nodded.  He noticed she was wearing the hoodie that he left there by accident last night.  “It’s crazy.  I mean it’ll probably be for the next few days until they have everything under control, you know?”

“Yeah,” Aberdeen said, but she wasn’t so sure.  “What do you think the NHL will do?” she asked.

“No clue.  Maybe they’ll suspend the next few days of games too, just to make sure everything is under control too.  We’ll probably have to get tested.  I heard they stick something all the way up your nose,” William said.  There were a few moments of silence between them.  “Are you scared, minskatt?”

It was the first time somebody actually asked her that question – asked her if she was scared.  Everybody talked about it but nobody ever stopped to ask if she was actually scared.  She felt herself nodding her head.  “A little bit,” she admitted.

“Don’t be scared, minskatt.  I don’t want you to feel scared.  But I’m here if you want to talk about it.  You know that, right?”

She nodded her head.  “Are you scared, Willy?”

He nodded too.  “Yeah.  A little bit.”

***

March 12th, 2020

Aberdeen had an incredibly early morning.  She actually went into the office at 7:30 in the morning because Brendan requested she be there for some additional prep and to scribe the minutes of the meeting taking place with the NHL and the Board of Governors.  With a tired body but overactive mind, thinking about all the possibilities that could happen, her fingers moved a mile a minute across the keyboard as she sat with Brendan and Kyle.  Up until this point, everything in the league was carrying on as normal, despite the NBA postponing their season not even twelve hours prior.  She knew for a fact other teams around the league were still preparing to hold practices because those who were on the call said so and asked about it.  The Nashville Predators were already in for a morning skate, and the Leafs were going to have their practice right after.  

When the decision was made, and all that needed to be done was tell the players before the statement was drafted and released to the media, Brendan took a long, hard, exasperated sigh.  He rubbed at his temples and let his pen drop from his hand.  He leaned back in his chair before he looked at Aberdeen.  “All the guys are present and accounted for in the locker room.  We have to go and tell them.”

The thought of having to tell the team was daunting.  She knew it wasn’t her that was going to be delivering the bad news, but it would still be disheartening just being in the room and seeing their faces drop.  They’d probably have so many questions and Brendan and Kyle wouldn’t have any answers for them.  She looked at Kyle to see if he could offer her any solace but he was rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses.  “What do you think they’ll say?” she asked.

Brendan shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.  “Who knows.  But nobody will be happy.  I know that much.”

As they made their way towards the locker room, Kyle texted Sheldon to make sure all the guys and all the personnel were congregated in the locker room to hear the announcement.  With the Predators also being there, Aberdeen knew there’d be overlap.  So many of them knew each other so she wondered if they had already gone to see each other.

When they got into the locker room, everyone was waiting like kids in class.  Aberdeen locked eyes with William and moved off to the side as Brendan and Kyle stood at the front of the room.  They were told the news.

“For how long?”

“Even practices?  I mean this is just going to be for a few days, right?”

“Are they releasing a statement?”

“Did the league say anything about making up the games?”

“When are we going to start again?”

“Does that mean the season is being extended even further into the summer?  Doesn’t that delay next season?  What about the CBA?”

“What’s the PA have to say about this?”

“Is the PA making a statement too?”

“What do we do with our equipment?  Our stalls?”

We don’t know.

We don’t know.

We don’t know.  

“Listen, the only thing we do know for sure is this: it’s been classified as a pandemic now by the World Health Organization and it’s spreading quickly.  This thing can’t be contained.  With Gobert testing positive last night, it was only a matter of time before this thing affected us, too.  We share so many locker rooms with NBA players.  It might already even be in our league and we don’t know it,” Brendan said.

“Schools have already announced an extended March Break.  Nobody knows a lot right now but what we can tell you is that we’re going to listen to the public health officials and their advice,” Kyle said.  “We’re hockey players – we’re not epidemiologists.  If someone tells me to stop playing a full-contact sports to stop the spread of a highly infectious diseases even the world’s best epidemiologists still know very little about, I’m going to listen to them.”

“So what do we do now?” Morgan asked.

“Go home.  Until you’re given further directives from us, go home and stay home.”

***

"In light of ongoing developments resulting from the coronavirus, and after consulting with medical experts and convening a conference call of the Board of Governors, the National Hockey League is announcing today that it will pause the 2019-20 season beginning with tonight's games.”

"The NHL has been attempting to follow the mandates of health experts and local authorities, while preparing for any possible developments without taking premature or unnecessary measures. However, following last night's news that an NBA player has tested positive for coronavirus -- and given that our leagues share so many facilities and locker rooms and it now seems likely that some member of the NHL community would test positive at some point -- it is no longer appropriate to try to continue to play games at this time.

"We will continue to monitor all the appropriate medical advice, and we will encourage our players and other members of the NHL community to take all reasonable precautions -- including by self-quarantine, where appropriate. Our goal is to resume play as soon as it is appropriate and prudent, so that we will be able to complete the season and award the Stanley Cup. Until then, we thank NHL fans for your patience and hope you stay healthy."

***

When Aberdeen got home, the news had just been announced that Sophie Gregoire Trudeau, Justin’s wife, had it.  The anxiety Aberdeen felt only multiplied.  Kasha wasn’t home when she got home – she was at work, obviously – so it was just her alone with her thoughts, and it wasn’t going well.  Aberdeen prided herself on watching the news and keeping up to date with current events, but the doomscrolling she was doing on her Twitter and the CNN feed she turned on in the background wasn’t helping.

Then she heard the buzzer for her apartment.  That could only mean one thing.  

“Are you feeling okay, minskatt?” William asked the first second he saw her, which meant she was unable to ask him why he showed up at her place.

“I…I don’t know,” she admitted.  “I’m scared, Willy.”  Knowing it was still mid-day and that Kasha was at work, he took the opportunity to move closer to her and engulf her in a hug.  Her arms were pressed between their bodies as he hugged her tightly.  She took a moment to take in his scent and compose herself and try to snap out of all the doomscrolling she’d just done.  “What are you even doing here?”

“I needed to see if you were okay.  Plus I left my hoodie here the other night and—”

He was interrupted by her phone ringing loudly on the kitchen countertop.  They both looked down at it and saw Brendan’s name flash across the screen.  A pit formed in Aberdeen’s stomach.  She let it ring a few more times before reaching out to pick it up and answer it.  “Hello?”

“Did you have contact with anybody from Nashville today?” he asked, not bothering with formalities.  “Including staff.”

“Y—Yes,” she said.  She had seen and spoken with a bunch of the staff about the situation as everyone was packing up and going home.  She was ruminating how it would be more dramatic for them to fly home whereas the Leafs just had to drive.  “Why?”

She heard him take a long breath.  “We’re getting information about precautions and what you can do to minimize the spread and exposure, and…listen, Aberdeen, the government and every public health official is instituting a policy of a fourteen day quarantine period—”

“Quarantine?!  What do you mean quarantine?” she asked.

“—Immediately.”

“Immediately?!”

“It means no leaving your house.  At all.  For anything.  You…you can’t leave, Aberdeen.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  She didn’t know what to think, how to feel, anything.  She was void of emotion.  “Oh my God.”

“I know.  Believe me.  The entire country is going into lockdown.  This is more serious than I could have ever imagined.  I’ve gotta call the rest of the team to let them know.”

He hung up the phone.  She looked over to William.  She knew he’d heard Brendan through the phone.  And before she could even utter a word, his phone began ringing.  Brendan’s name flashed across his screen this time.  He looked her in the eye as he answered.  “Hello?..........Yeah.  Yeah I caught up with Filip Forsberg for a bit, some of the other Swedish guys too……….okay…okay…what do you mean quarantine?  Like stay at home?  But like, if I’m out—I—okay, go home immediately?  Yeah yeah, I’ll drop everything..........Fourteen days?...Uh, I guess so.  I mean I have no choice right?......Yeah I’ll be fine.  I’ll have groceries delivered like I always do……Yeah…Yeah…Okay.  Bye Brendan.”

They were both speechless.  

***

Aberdeen called Kasha.  Kasha was going to take the opportunity to stay at Evan’s place for fourteen days, and would be by after work to pack, during which Aberdeen would lock herself in her room.  Aberdeen didn’t know how Kasha would be able to hide a fourteen-day stint at Evan’s place from her dad.  But then again, Aberdeen was hiding William from everybody.  They both had secrets.

Once everything was arranged, she could finally look at William sitting on her couch.  She didn’t even know if he had clothes.  Underwear.  Anything.  She looked at him.  “Does this mean we’re living together for fourteen days?”

William couldn’t believe what was happening, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but smirk slightly.  “I think it does.”

[darkvolt]

finished 5 productive days of work.

Animated in Flash CS5.5. Old version, but for what I was doing it’s plenty. the compositing with the background elements just made it start to chug, so I rendered it all out as a image sequence, just to make sure I dont get corrupted video files.

Background made in Krita, trying the program out for a week now and like it for painting. I just need to get better at painting in general.

Slight camera move via Davinci Resolve, as I couldnt figure out how to render out the virtual camera in flash. Propably because my version is outdated, so I wont attempt that any more, in case I do a project like this again.

This happened because I was looking at my old files and found this little thing back from 2007

Execution is bad, but I liked the idea behind it and thought it be a nice scene to revisit, as a practice, And after all the years, I picked up a few animation tricks via osmosis. 

From the last practice I liked the idea of only focusing on the Keyframes, instead of trying to make it all smooth, so I went ahead and started the new interpretation from scratch. (keeping the ground plane, because that’s still solid, and I couldn’t be bothered doing a new one)

Both, the old and the new animation start, and end at exactly the same position and size. I changed the number of frames, the overall time, and the pacing. The background elements I added later after the animation was set, which allowed me to think of the scenario before making up my mind..

each stage pretty much took me a day, the sketch animation, the lineart, doing the background itself, and combining it all together. adding in time for sleep and food, that makes it 5 days. I do not remember how long the original took, but I do remember me anguishing way more trying to get smooth inbetweens, over anything else. Past me wished he had the patience.

This however was a blast and I’d like to do more animations like this in the future.

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