#he is full of secret sinewy strength

[hagofbolding]

are you even ALLOWED to found a commune and grow pot if you can't also do... this

(Sanctuary is from my comic, Fairmeadow)

[thegatesofsilverandbone]

It was a quiet Wednesday evening when Danny and Marcus found themselves at Danny’s house for a mid-week sleepover. The two high school sophomores had been inseparable since the first day of ninth grade, finding solace in each other’s company. They spent most of their free time together, sharing secrets, dreams, and the occasional forbidden snack.

As they lay side by side in Danny's small bed, with the glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains, they couldn't help but groan at the thought of waking up early the next morning for school.

"I wish we could just do whatever we wanted," Danny murmured, staring up at the ceiling.

"Yeah, like just go on adventures or something. I don't want to sit in class all day tomorrow," Marcus replied, turning on his side to face Danny. His dark brown eyes were serious, and Danny could see the same wishful thinking he felt reflected in them.

"What if we didn't have to go back? What if we could just... stay like this forever? Together," Danny said, his voice softening.

Marcus smiled at the thought, a wistful smile that soon turned into a yawn. "That would be the best," he mumbled, closing his eyes.

They both drifted off to sleep, their minds buzzing with fantasies of freedom, of a life where school and chores didn't exist, where they could explore the world together with nothing holding them back.

As they slept, their dreams intertwined, weaving a shared tapestry of vivid images and sensations. The boys found themselves standing on a rocky beach, the waves crashing rhythmically against the shore. They felt taller, stronger, their bodies broader and more powerful than before. As they looked down at themselves, they noticed thick hair covering their chests, arms, and legs, and their faces sported full beards, dark and well-kept. They were older—much older—no longer boys, but men.

Danny looked down at his hands, which seemed to shimmer and flicker between his familiar youthful form and something else—something more substantial. His fingers began to lengthen and broaden, the knuckles becoming more pronounced as the skin roughened, like those of a man who had lived a full life. Hair began to sprout along the backs of his hands, dark and thick, and as he looked down at his arms, he saw the same transformation taking place there as well. The boyish smoothness of his limbs gave way to sinewy muscles, covered in a dense layer of hair that marked him as undeniably male.

Marcus, standing beside him, was undergoing a similar change. His once-slender frame filled out, the narrow shoulders of his teenage years expanding into a broad, powerful chest. The awkward lankiness of youth was replaced with the solid bulk of a man in his prime. His jawline sharpened, growing more defined, and soon, a thick beard began to grow, covering his chin and cheeks with a rugged fullness that made him look distinguished and wise.

The two boys stared at each other in awe as their faces matured, the soft features of adolescence giving way to the hard edges and strong lines of adulthood. Their noses became more prominent, their brows heavier, casting shadows over eyes that now held the weight of countless experiences.

Danny could feel his body gaining strength and mass with each passing moment. His chest, once flat and boyish, now rose and fell with the steady breath of a man accustomed to physical exertion. Dark hair covered his pectorals, spreading in a thick trail down his stomach, which had grown firm and muscular. His legs, too, had thickened, the muscles taut and powerful beneath a new covering of dark, wiry hair.

As they continued to change, new memories flooded their minds—memories of lifting weights at the gym together, of sharing quiet mornings over coffee, and of nights spent in each other's arms, feeling safe and whole. The awkward fumblings of teenage romance were replaced by the deep, confident affection that only comes with time and familiarity.

Marcus watched as Danny’s face aged, fine lines appearing at the corners of his eyes, and his beard growing fuller and more defined. He felt his own face undergo the same transformation, and it thrilled him to see the evidence of a life well-lived etched into Danny’s skin. His heart swelled with love and pride as he saw not just the boy he had grown up with, but the man he had grown old with.

Their voices deepened, resonating with the timbre of maturity, and as they spoke to each other, the childish tones were replaced by the rich, soothing cadence of men who had known each other intimately for decades.

"I think this is who we were always meant to be," Marcus said, his voice a low, comforting rumble.

Danny nodded, a grin spreading across his now older, more chiseled face. "It feels right," he agreed, the last vestiges of his teenage self slipping away.

Their clothing had also changed, morphing from the casual sleepwear of boys into the comfortable, well-worn fabrics of men who had spent years together. The familiar scent of aftershave and warm skin filled the air, bringing with it a sense of comfort and belonging.

Finally, they stood before each other as fully grown men, their bodies heavy with the muscle and strength that came with years of dedication and care. They had transformed from boys on the cusp of adulthood into men who had lived full, rich lives.

As the dream world began to fade, they found themselves back in their bed, now much larger and more luxurious than before. The light of early morning filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over their newly aged faces.

When Danny opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Marcus, still holding his hand. But now, everything felt more real, more solid. The love he felt for Marcus was deeper, more profound, and as he reached out to touch his husband’s bearded cheek, he felt a rush of memories—memories of their wedding day, of the house they had built together, of the countless nights spent in each other's arms.

Marcus stirred, his eyes slowly opening to meet Danny’s. There was no confusion in his gaze, only recognition and affection. The dream had become reality, and with it, the knowledge that they had always been together.

"Good morning, love," Marcus murmured, his voice now the familiar, soothing baritone that Danny adored.

"Good morning," Danny replied, his heart swelling with happiness. He could hardly remember a time when he wasn’t this man, married to Marcus, sharing a life of adventure and love.

As they lay there, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence, the memories of their teenage years faded like a distant echo, leaving behind only the life they had now. And as they moved closer, their bodies tangling together in a comfortable embrace, they knew that this was the life they had always wanted, and always would have—together.

[bidnezz]

The Warmth of a Smile

Rating: T

Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary:

It’s early morning when the inquisitive thought stems into Alec’s mind that if he were to be asked which part of Magnus he loves most, he wouldn’t be able to narrow it down to any one answer. A hypothetical impossibility.

Magnus Bane is more than just one perfect, beautiful, physical manifestation.

Alec takes the morning to think of which parts of Magnus he loves most. 1.7k of Alec loving Magnus.          

Read below or on ao3!!

It’s early morning when the inquisitive thought stems into Alec’s mind that if he were to be asked which part of Magnus he loves most, he wouldn’t be able to narrow it down to any one answer. A hypothetical impossibility.

Magnus Bane is more than just one perfect, beautiful, physical manifestation.

From the toes that wiggle absentmindedly when Magnus is looking through the newspaper, spread out on the couch and calm with not a worry besides the words his eyes travel. Bare feet, balanced and sturdy, not easily tripped or susceptible to the clumsiness that someone like Simon embodies. Ankles that poke out, where Alec loves to rest his fingers on days off when the two of them sit in companionable silence and tend to their own responsibilities in shared space. To his calves, that radiate endless amounts of strength, that support the lithe feline movements he graces Alec with every day. Up his legs and along his thighs to the muscles that wrap around Alec and prove themselves over and over again of their rigorous training and work.

He’s especially favorable towards the more intimate parts of Magnus, the spots Alec spent days discovering, unraveling his boyfriend with the press of his fingers and kisses and bites along sensitive flesh. The shifting of hips that Alec loves to watch, the way they sway with every step, rock with intention to catch Alec’s gaze. And it works, Alec always caves, will always cave for as long as he’s allowed.

And when Magnus turns around, Alec loves that too.

The sensual curve of Magnus’ back as it dips lower and peaks out to form the toned ass he grasps onto with attentive eagerness. The feel of it supple and full, seemingly made to fit perfectly against the grip of Alec’s palm. And when Magnus’ body works together, a well-oiled machine that Alec will happily keep up work on, it’s almost enough to claim the top spot in what he loves about Magnus.

But then his hands rise higher, graze up the sides of the hips Alec wants to always focus all of his attention on, and suddenly the dips of his abs are Alec’s favorite. The feel of the smooth skin under his fingers, when they drag along the lines of muscle and Magnus’ body trembles beneath him. It comes in strides, waves of motion that lift and fall with the movement of his fingers, pulling an invisible string that connects Magnus’ core to Alec’s hands in a fated life.

Magnus’ chest is no different, as proud and confident as the air that spills forth from the lungs inside. Alec would expect no less from the High Warlock, would expect the charisma that pours through time and time again. Even clothed, Alec loves to see the peek of skin beneath the cut of the shirt, through the sheer of the mesh or thin cotton. Especially when the material itself longs to stretch around Magnus, doing the work of Angels as it spreads and clings around the thick muscles of Magnus’ shoulders that offer a place for Alec to rest his hand when he feels the need for contact. Shoulders and arms that flex when they lift Alec up, bring him close and surround him in their heat and comfort. Biceps and forearms that tremble with the overwhelming desire to keep him housed above Alec when the moon is high in the sky and glistening off of the sheen of sweat that coats them.

 Magnus’ hands come next, following the long limb of his arms, rough yet soft at the same time and never one without the other. Hands that provoke all that Alec has to give, that unfurl every sigh and moan unbidden. The twist of fingers as they maneuver magic through the air, as they twine with Alec’s own, as they circle around him every night. Alec could write a book on Magnus’ hands alone, and the ways in which he loves them.

Sometimes the clothes Magnus wears are restricting, covering bronze skin and only leaving an exposed neck for Alec’s lascivious eyes to drink up. But he soaks it in anyways, because Alec is very partial to the sinewy muscles that stretch and pull when Magnus rolls his neck after a long day of working. To feel the beat of the pulse underneath that seems to grow stronger when Alec whispers kisses to it with his lips, reverent and tender. It’s a song he knows well, a rhythmic hum that harmonizes with the moans and pleas that spill out, that become ragged and breathy with pleasure as Alec sinks his teeth into the loving juncture where Magnus’ neck and shoulder meet, a landmark he visits often and with great enthusiasm.

His love doesn’t stop there, though.

No, because then the sun rises in the morning, bleeds through the cracks of their blinds and slips through the curtains to fall upon Magnus’ face, elegant and beautiful and serene in the early morning sunshine. And Alec’s heart swells.

It fills with a burning love for Magnus that aches to keep this view for as long as he’s alive.

This image of Magnus at peace, delicate and soft the features of his face as Alec traces a finger along them. From the gentle spikes of his hair that have mussed and fallen flat against the pillow, the night before where Alec’s fingers had curled and tugged with passion. To the brow that sometimes crease with the furrow that accompanies strenuous thoughts. Sorrow for decades of memories lived and worry for decades to come that Alec will never be able to truly fathom. Magnus’ mind, an endlessly vast ocean of knowledge. Ideas and visions that have blossomed to life, that will come to fruition in the future with or without Alec, or have fizzled out brilliantly for nobody but Magnus.

Magnus’ eyes flutter open, glossy with the sleep he brings himself out of, unfocused and distracted until he sees Alec.

If he thought his heart was swollen and brimming with love before, Alec’s not prepared for the cadence with which his heart beats and sputters at the slow dawning of affection he sees reflected back at him in the golden cat eyes before him, pupils wide and dark and reminiscent of declarations murmured against the heat and slide of the night. It’s perfect, he thinks. This view in front of him, the same sight he’s greeted with every morning can never be topped.

But oh, how he continues to be proven wrong.

Because warmth blooms on Magnus’ face, casts aside the blinding light of the sun and becomes the sole reason for the lightening of the room when Magnus smiles.

This, Magnus’ smile, this is his favorite thing.

So many emotions capture in the upturn of those lips, displayed so openly for Alec to decipher with every second that passes. He finds himself becoming the most faithful observer, loyal and driven to uncover all that Magnus’ smile has to offer, secrets unearthed successfully and kept for only Alec. How it changes from happy and amused when they banter lightly over dinner options, to sultry and suddenly brazen in the way he offers something more to Alec’s very particular palate instead. It flips inside of him, the spinning of desire that longs to thread through his organs until he’s encompassed in the shaky murmurs of satisfaction that fill the room.

But there are other smiles he loves too, smiles that his own lips have the innate pull to echo. The quirk of lips that Magnus tries to hide behind a finger when they threaten to furnish a laugh that doesn’t belong in whatever professional ambience that surrounds him, situations where he turns to Alec for aid but is only met with the copied grin that they both try to conceal. Moments where the humor of their relationship behind closed doors seeps through into reality, where small laughs and quiet giggles turn heads towards them with questioning glances and inquiring eyes that they have no answers for.

Being with Magnus is fun. Fulfilling. Being with Magnus makes him happy.

And when Magnus smiles with the darkness of the room as a background and the moonlight illuminating the shadows on his face, Alec feels enlightened. The steady thrum of his heart, normally resolved to keep his blood flowing, gives way to the palpitations in his chest from something more than exhaustion from their coupling at the sight of the satiated, honeyed smile. He feels it in his bones, in the crevices of his mind that shine a spotlight on the intimacy he keeps separate for just these occasions, where the love he has for Magnus feels greater than he can ever vocalize, can’t ever put into words no matter how inspired he becomes.

He wonders if Magnus ever feels the same about him.

If the responsive smile Alec offers up with his heart completely does anything to stutter his breath or stammer words. Perhaps not, Alec’s unquestioning devotion surely can’t compare to the years of lovers come and gone. It’s a spiral Alec finds himself on the precipice of many times, a cliff that he edges so practiced and carefully. Surely his heart, though it has not been the first nor will it be the last, isn’t worthy enough for Magnus to reside and build a home in.

Thoughts like that never last, as hard as the strangle of claws digs into his back, crawls up and sinks onto his shoulders in their attempt to drag him down.

Because Magnus smiles, breathtaking and heavenly, and all Alec can see through the fog of insecurity.

Magnus, his powerful savior who can banish the darkness with just a look, a word, a touch. Magnus, with his affinity for making Alec feel every bit deserving of his fondness and spot beside him in the rankings of the Shadow World.

Magnus, who smiles at him with all the brightness in the universe, for whom the sun and moon hold no competition. Stars burn out, fade and die, and all the while Magnus’ smile lights Alec’s world with the twinkling of white from his bared teeth and bashful tilt of his head.

“I love you, Alexander,” Magnus says.

Body language expresses this with clarity as he leans into Alec’s presence. A firm constant shown in the soft press of lips to Alec’s, no hint of doubt or susceptibility to change because Magnus loves him, now and forever.

And Alec loves back just as ardently, earth-shattering and loud, with heavenly fire that burns his soul, rooted and hot and vigorous.

All of Magnus, always.

[softyoongiionly]

🍬Sour Skittles: Part Two 🍬

Sour Skittles

WELCOME TO GLASSCLAW! The only city where you can get a homecooked meal and a hitman all on the same street! You moved to GlassClaw for a fresh start after a group of raiders invaded your previous compound. Unbeknownst to you, the city has its own collection of riff raff and, at the head of it all is your neighbor Min Yoongi. The mischevious merchant with one hell of a sailor mouth is known for swindling the rich and, serving the poor. The world has become convoluted and chaotic since the apocalypse but, two things were certain: You were so much more than pretty face and, Yoongi was so much more than just a thief.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I got really inspired to do a little update for this after watching a ton of videos about the French Revolution lmao. I hope you guys like it!

Genre: Dystopian Au, RobinHood! Yoongi, smut, fluff, minor angst, post apocalyptic au

The heat is unbearable. 

It sticks to you like a thick and intrusive warm cloak.

You’re spread eagle on your mattress, completely naked except for a pair of underwear and, a loose fitting t shirt. The idea of fabric clinging to you is revolting enough to make you wretch and, you’re now seriously considering taking another cold shower.

This would be your third one today.

Fuck AstroLex honestly.

The hegemonic superpower that runs Glassclaw shut off everyone’s AC as punishment for the recent raid of one of their many storage places.

The Underground is clearly responsible but, AstroLex lacks the evidence to bindict anyone. This was usually the case, the raiders who worked for The Underground are too good and, they usually commit their robberies without a trace.

This isn’t the first time AstroLex has implemented a city-wide punishment, last winter they turned off the heating for 6 days which led to a dozen people nearly dying of hypothermia.   

They didn’t care though. Their message had been received, their debts had been collected and, they could continue in their world.

Unapologetically unbothered.

AstroLex made an announcement earlier this morning that the AC would be turned off until further notice and, you assumed this meant until the raiders were turned in.

You audibly groan as you feel more sweat forming on the back of your neck, the feeling nearly vomit-inducing. The only way you knew to alleviate your suffering would be to live in your freezer and, given that it’s much too small, you concede that your only option is a slow and painful death.

A knock at your door interrupts you both in it’s volume and it’s intensity. Another pained groan passes your lips as you drag yourself off of your bed. The knocking gets more persistent as you make your way to the door.

“I’m coming!” You call, annoyed at the intrusion.

Swinging the door open, you are met with the one person who could make your day more difficult: Min Yoongi.

“Took you long enough…” He smirks, leaning against your door frame. His minty green hair is dripping wet and, he’s dressed in only a gray pair of torn jeans, black boxers peeking over the band of them.

“Don’t you own a shirt?”

He snickers, “It’s a thousand degrees outside, do you want me to die of heat exhaustion?”

“Definitely not, I’d loose out on my reward, they raised it again today…$40,000…” You cross your arms, fighting the smile that’s trying to take over your lips.

Turns out, your suspicions regarding your neighbor had been correct. Yoongi was forced to out himself as an Underground worker when the AstroLex police had launched a full on investigation in your environ. In a desperate attempt to maintain his freedom, Yoongi came banging on your door at 3am, begging you not to turn him into the authorities. Yoongi belonged to a particularly stealthy and ruthless group of raiders known appropriately as “Robin Hoods.” So far, the Robin Hoods had been responsible for nearly 60% of all successful raids done on AstroLex’s resources and, given that their operations were so seamless, the police hadn’t been able to bring a single member in for questioning. However, AstroLex did announce a citywide call for intel which promised a hefty reward to anyone who had information regarding the group.

“I’m certainly worth more than $40,000, those bastards…” His eyes scan over you briefly, glinting with mischief, “You look like a drowned rat…”

You scoff, pushing against his bare chest, “Fuck you…”

He snickers again, nimble fingers clutching at your wrists, holding them against his chest, “I’m kidding, c’mon, I missed you…”

He’s so full of shit…

You roll your eyes at him, playfully tugging your hands away, “You missed me so much you came pounding on my door only to call me a drowned rat?”

“I’ve undergone a lot of childhood trauma, sweetheart, forgive me, I have hard time expressing my emotions…” He explains with a dramatic flair to his voice, slowly starting to lean in towards your lips.

“You’re shameless. “ You open your door wider, silently inviting him inside, “Did you bring what I asked for?”

Yoongi purses his lips through his smirk before shuffling into your apartment, “Are you referring to the stupid salt that I nearly died for? Yes, I brought what you asked for…”

He reaches into his canvas bag, pulling out a plastic box containing your requested item: Rock salt.

Eagerly, you take the box from his hands, already excited to utilize the stolen good which left Yoongi feeling very confused.

“The fuck do you need rock salt for anyway? Can’t you just use the stuff in a bottle?” He shuffles his bag back over his bare shoulder and, you shamelessly allow your eyes to ogle at the movements of Yoongi’s sinewy chest muscles.

“I use that salt for cooking but,” You move around him to make you’re way over to your fridge before pulling out a bottle of fresh cream, you’d bought from the a local dairy farm not far from your apartment.  “I’m using this one for homemade ice cream…the store bought stuff just isn’t the same.”

Yoongi wants to scoff at your response because; quite frankly he finds it a little ridiculous but, he doesn’t scoff, instead, he feels rather enamored. The modern world leaves very little room for a luxury like nostalgia but, for whatever reason, he feels a lot of it when he’s around you, you remind of him his past life….before everything went to shit.

“Are you making enough to share?” He smirks, hopping on your counter, his dirty combat boots scuffing against the wood.

“I’m not sharing anything with you if you don’t get off my counter…” You grumble, pushing against his jean clad leg, causing Yoongi to snicker as he obliges, choosing to lean back against the granite. “But yeah, I’ll make enough to share—you have to take some to Namjoon too though.”

“He’s lactose intolerant…”

You stop what you’re doing to throw a deadpan Yoongi’s way which only causes his mouth to twitch, a smirk threatening to break through, “I literally saw him shoving cheese pizza down his throat the other night. Share with him or you get nothing…”

Yoongi chuckles again, holding his hands up to concede with you, “Fine, I’ll share but, don’t expect it to be an even split. Namjoon’s job isn’t nearly as demanding as mine, I need my strength…”

With a roll of your eyes, you assemble some of the ice cubes into a large ceramic bowl, eyeing the dish rack for a spoon, “Do you even a day job or, are you a full time renegade?”

With a nod of his head he responds, his hand musing through his hair again, “I work at Electric Eel’s on the weekends…”

The fact that Yoongi works at a strip club shouldn’t affect you but, an odd sensation rolls through your stomach as you think of all of the beautiful women he must work with.

“The strip club right? How’s that going for you?”

Yoongi smirks again because, apparently, that’s the only facial expression he’s capable of, “It goes ok. I literally only wear a leather vest and leather pants so, the tips are pretty fucking good. Plus…I get to work with a bunch of hot people so, it’s a good gig.”

You swallow around a dry throat, trying very hard not to picture bartender Yoongi in an all leather outfit but, obviously you fail.

“Sounds like it…” You affirm casually, dumping a sizeable portion of ice cubes into a metal cylinder. “Do you know Jungkook?”

Yoongi tilts his head for a moment before nodding, “Yeah yeah, young kid right? He’s a dancer there…wait how do you know him?”

It’s your turn to smirk now, memories of Jungkook currently running an assault on your brain, “Uh…he’s an old friend of mine. Last I heard he got a job there so, I figured you would know him…”

Yoongi’s stomach tightens now, the smirk on your face telling him everything he didn’t want to know, “Just a friend?”

A flurry of butterflies courses through your gut as you think of all the fun you and Jungkook used to have, “Just friends yeah…”

There’s a bit of silence that moves between the two of you as Yoongi admires the way you lie to him.

He kind of wants to be a secret of yours too…

“Don’t worry…I hooked up with him too. He’s a hell of a lay…” Yoongi chuckles, his eyes alit with mischief and memories of his own.

The feel in your stomach drops lower now, towards the place between your legs. The bit of information Yoongi just shared certainly isn’t what you’re expecting but, you’d be lying if you said that thoughts of Yoongi and Jungkook together didn’t do a number on your resolve.

“He sure is…stamina for days…” You giggle, trying to center your thinking towards more appropriate topics, “Do you think they’ll turn the air on this week?”

Yoongi notices your hasty subject change but, he decides not to pester you, at least not for the moment, “Probably not. There was an uprising in Ricketts yesterday --I think Astro is worried we’re going to do the same. Gotta keep the leash tight…”

The news surprises you, there hadn’t been an uprising in your area of the world in quite some time. The last one, occurred four years ago in the nearby compound of Amex and, ended in a bloody battle that took the lives of nearly 2,000 people; the compound’s government executed the resistance leaders during a public broadcast.

Rebellion seemed less appealing after that but clearly, the fear of retaliation is quickly wearing off…

“Really? I had no idea…I didn’t hear anything about it, were they successful?”

An honest smile actually presents itself across Yoongi’s lips as he nods, knowing full well what Rickett’s victory could mean, “They overthrew their council. AstroLex sent in reinforcement but, their resistance held em off, they retreated this morning…”

This causes your eyes to widen, “Are you serious? That’s unbelievable, how did you hear about this? There’s no way they would have put this in the broadcast…”

Yoongi leans in, his eyes darting around your kitchen, lowering his voice significantly, “Don’t you find it strange that AstroLex is offering 40,000 for a bunch of petty thieves?”

He has a point.

AstroLex is worth millions.

But if he’s not just a thief…then what is he?

“Do you know something the public doesn’t?” You offer, trying to conceal your intense curiosity.

Yoongi grins, his brown eyes glimmering with something you haven’t seen in over a decade: hope, “Let’s just say…the Ricketts rebellion is the first of many. Sooner or later, AstroLex will meet the same fate…”

His words fuel your bleeding heart but, you have to be careful. You can’t get wrapped up in promises, you’ve made that mistake before.

“Resistance...” You breathe and, Yoongi doesn’t allow his grin to fade, “Do you really think it’s possible?”

“Would you join if it was?”

Looking up at your neighbor, you muster all of the sincerity and passion you can manage, holding the depth of his gaze as you respond,

“I’d join regardless…”

[dustedmagazine]

Mdou Moctar — Ilana (The Creator) (Sahel Sounds)

Ilana: The Creator by Mdou Moctar

Mdou Moctar, prodigiously talented, nakedly ambitious, creatively restless, Saharan guitar phenom, may be best known outside Niger, to the extent he’s known at all, for soundtracking and starring in the first ever Tuareg feature film Akounak Tedalat Taha Tazoughai (Rain the Color Blue with a Little Red in it). You don’t take the lead in a Purple Rain homage unless you know you’re good, but at the time the comparison seemed like the sort of cute, provocative overstatement endemic to emergent scenes and their promoters. Contra Akounak, Moctar’s new record, Ilana (The Creator) is where he earns the comparison. Not only is Ilana Moctar’s best record, it’s also one of the best Saharan records to reach Western ears, and an early contender for the most exhilarating rock record of 2019. 

Impressive guitar players out of Niger are a franc a dozen these days, but none of them are playing with as much fire as Moctar does here. If you still have a punk-induced allergy to flashy guitar solos, be warned; there’s not a track on Ilana where Moctar doesn’t take every available opportunity to — no other word for it — shred. Fortunately, Moctar earns the right to play his ass off by recruiting a band whose hungry energy matches and spurs on his own and by, for the first time, writing a whole album of tunes worthy of his chops.  

Saharan guitar music (tishoumaren to the locals), like roots reggae, delta blues, black metal, and other styles developed in relative isolation, can be formulaic and, let’s be honest, repetitive, especially given its predilection for trance. Moctar’s earlier records were a bit light in the hook department and leaned on groove and skill to pick up the slack. Formulaic though they may be, there’s not a boring track on Ilana. Moctar has amped up his songwriting through judicious use of a few trade secrets, like the breakdowns of the title track “Ilana,” which break up the insistent groove without sapping it of power. The best songs, like the swaggering “Asshet Akai” and triumphant “Wiwasharnine,” are all sticky licks, whirlwind, heat and flash, the sort life affirming stuff that makes you think rock and roll might have some fight in it yet.  

Tight songwriting isn’t all that elevates Ilana. Credit also goes to Moctar’s band, a classic guitar/drums/bass set up without a calabash or hand drum in sight and a heavier, more dynamic, rhythm section than is often found on tishoumaren records. The interlude “Inizgam” features pained, bluesy playing by Moctar, but the drums and bass make it funky, make it something you can feel. The band’s sinewy, propulsive energy give conviction and strength to Moctar’s riffs, and keep Ilana from devolving into a shredding showcase.   

Ilana is Moctar’s first studio record with a full band, and though the production emphasizes the sort of gritty guitar tone heard on his early recordings, and avoids the bright overproduction characterizing recent records by his compatriot Bombino, Moctar isn’t above spicing up his tunes with studio trickery. Prudent use of reverb and overdubs, the low drone that adds weight and drama to “Kamane Tarhanin,” and the ethereal slides of the closer “Tumastin,” are a few of the subtle touches that give depth and dimension to Ilana without sacrificing its garage band immediacy.

Another new trick: Ilana is an old-school, perfectly sequenced album, greater than the sum of its parts. Even the ecstatic, over-the-top, seven minute guitar meltdown “Tarhatazed” is earned by the rising, bass-heavy excitement of the interlude, “Takamba,” that precedes it and cathartic release of “Wiwasharnine” that follows. Ilana’s show-like flow is its secret weapon; it surges forward, high on its own momentum, turning excess into virtue. Authenticity fetishists beware: Ilana (The Creator), with its smooth sequencing, higher production values, rhythmic dynamism, and Hendrix worship that (finally) manifests itself more in licks than sonics, is a full-fledged pop product. 

You can hear within seconds that there’s a lot at stake on Ilana. Like Purple Rain, Ilana is the sound of a talent coming into its own, skill becoming craft and wanting the world to hear, but auditory audacity alone isn’t enough to explain its vitality. Moctar wrote these songs to let the world know that “the women of the desert need help. They don’t have water to drink, there’s no medicine in the hospitals”[1] and that “for 48 years France has exploited the uranium in our country, and yet we still don’t have roads, medicines and in many places there is no water or electricity...we are modern slaves”[2].  For non-Tamasheq speakers, the lyrics of Ilana will be subsumed by its utility as a great party record, but Ilana’s thematic gravity is inseparable from its more muscular approach and the pleasure it provides. After all, in this life, things are much harder than in the afterworld, but if de-elevator tries to bring you down, go crazy.  

Purple Rain is one point of comparison, but Ilana, in its hunger to be heard, political urgency, sonic temerity, seriousness of intent and commitment to pleasure, back to basics simplicity and willingness to experiment, is a piece of pure, subversive pop in the tradition of Catch a Fire or The Clash. Ilana (The Creator) fiercely and joyously breaks through the groovy solemnity that has become a Saharan trademark because Mdou Moctar wants your attention. Check him out. Before the night is through, you’ll see his point of view even if he has to scream and shout. 

Isaac Olson

[p-artsypants]

The Dame and the Daemon

FF.Net | AO3

So, this is my Scourge AU, where Noctis is infected and becomes a Daemon. Hope you enjoy!

--

The Starscourge. The plague that has haunted man since time in memoriam. A parasite that infects the body in mysterious ways, turning men into grotesque creatures; daemons, that lurk in the shadows. For shadows are the only place safe from the burning agony of the light. Parents ripped away from children, husbands from wives, and even the closest of friends. Only the King of Lucis, who held the Power of Kings would be able to destroy the plague for good.

In this way, those that suffer with the Scourge are treated heavily and with the best care available. But only the Oracle has the power to really, truly heal those suffering. And so, by order of the king, for the safety of those still living, the victim is taken to a undisclosed location, and buried in the caves.

Fortunately for those living in Crown City, the plague is a minor worry. The protection of the crown extends from wall to wall. There may be one case in a decade. But those outside the city...often meet a fate worse than death.

Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum, the son of Regis Lucis Caelum, and the only heir to the throne of Lucis was attacked by a daemon when he was only 8 years old. The Marilith sliced right across his spinal column, nearly paralyzing him. Instead, all the way across his back, a deep, near fatal wound was inflicted and prone to the monster. The little boy’s bloodstream was contaminated and a hellish sentence began.

Up until that point, he was a vivacious child. Full of light, which was appropriate given his title. He was in Tenebrae at the time of the attack, and spent many weeks with the Princess Lunafreya, the next Oracle, while he recovered. Unfortunately, Luna’s latent Oracle powers hadn’t manifested yet, so there was no way to predict Noctis’ fate.

Shortly after they separated, the whole of Tenebrae fell to the Empire of Niflheim and Luna was taken as prisoner of war. But Umbra, her faithful pooch, was resilient, and with a handy notebook, communication was restored between the two friends, however so slightly.

When he was 12, symptoms started to arise. His fingernails turned black. If his hair hadn’t been black to start with, it would have turned too. He had an idea of the cause, but he was 12. What was a kid, that was grown to despise and fear daemons, to do?

Hide it, of course.

So he requested Ignis, his adviser and glorified babysitter, to buy black nail polish. The first several weeks of polish were a nightmare to the prince, as it got everywhere, but anytime someone offered to help him with it, he refused. No one could see what he was hiding.

Being a boy with painted fingernails was reason enough to get beat up in school, but as the Prince…his fellow students didn’t know what to do with it. In the end, most people just kept away from him. And he decided it was for the best.

At 13, the wound on his back started to secrete black fluid. It was gross and smelled bad, and if exposed to light, the wound burned. Which made sense, given it’s origin. Nonetheless, Noctis took this development in stride. Ignis was asked to pick up bandages, and Noctis learned a new skill in wrapping. Because the fluid was inky, sometimes it bled through the bandages and into his clothes. To fix this problem, he started wearing a whole lot of black. Only black, in fact.

Next was unsightly marks and scars all over his skin, especially around the hairline. His fix? Sweeping bangs and concealer, which was a touch too light for his skin tone. His teeth started to sharpen, so smiling was out, too. All this led to Noctis exuding the image of a goth kid that screamed ‘home problems,’ which was not good for the king.

But no matter how many meetings teachers and counselors had with him, he wouldn’t budge. Psychologically, Noctis appeared fine. He admitted that the loss of his mother, and the attack as a child were both traumatic, but he assured he just liked wearing black and he wasn’t having any dangerous thoughts.

But that wasn’t completely true. Because of the Scourge, his angry thoughts carried a dangerous twinge, but the Prince was able to stuff them into a place the sun didn’t shine.

At 14, puberty hit, and his strength was noticeable. In training with Gladio, he broke several swords easily and started dominating matches. Once he broke Gladio’s femur with a punch, he knew it was time to roll it back. Gladio always pushed him to fight his hardest. Not anymore. 50% from now on. Also at this stage, Noctis grew taller and lankier. His sinewy muscle didn’t show the power he contained.

Noctis was a strange case. Most people infected with the Scourge would fall ill and disappear within a year. But because of his bloodline, his body fought a very slow losing battle. His exhaustion was apparent, but Regis and Ignis just assumed it was the stress of school combined with royal responsibility zapping his energy.

The letters to Luna started to become longer and more wistful. He heard girls whispering in the halls and the word love was passed around. He couldn’t imagine anyone loving someone more then he loved Luna. Despite the struggle they were both going through, she was always positive and encouraged him when Ignis and Gladio nagged and teased him. Finally, he got up the courage to tell her what was going on.

“Luna,

There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Back when I was attacked, I think I might have been infected with the Scourge. I’m not sure, because I haven’t been diagnosed. But I’m changing in weird, bad ways. I know it’s not puberty, either. My nails turned black and my teeth are really sharp…I just don’t know what to do, because my father hates daemons. I’m nervous, because despite my best efforts, I think I’m getting worse, and it won’t be long before people notice. I’m scared. What should I do?

Noctis.”

When her reply came, he was surprised to see the page warped with tears.

“Noctis,

I am so sorry that you have been suffering like this! It breaks my heart! The empire has been allowing me to go out and heal my people from the Scourge, and it works! If there’s a way I could come to you, I would heal you too. I do not know how else to help you right now. You mustn’t fall to the Scourge. I have seen it, it is Ordained that you will be the True King and banish the Night. You cannot fall prey to it.

My dearest friend, the Scourge feeds off of darkness and negative energy. Spend time in the sun and keep your spirits up. I know it’s hard, but know that I am with you. Always.

Forever yours,

Luna.”

Noctis hugged the journal close to his heart.

The much needed positively came in out of nowhere in the form of a blond joker named Prompto. Noctis was walking in the sun outside school one day, and Prompto clapped his hand on his shoulder. “Hey dude, what’s up?”

The prince gave him a look. “Do I know you?”

“Oh, I’m Prompto. We’re in class together.”

“Right right…I just didn’t realize you knew me?”

“Pfft, who doesn’t know you? The cool, but oh so sweet Prince Noctis.”

“Is that what they think of me?”

Prompto shrugged. “Is it wrong?”

Noctis crossed his arms. “I wish I was cool. I’m a nerd.”

“Hey! Nerds unite! Wanna hit up the arcade?”

If there could be stars in his eyes, their would be. “DO I?!”

The next few years went pretty smoothly. What new little growths sprouted up, Noctis handled with tact. He moved out of the citadel to ‘learn responsibly’ but he was just in it for the privacy. The summer of his Senior year was the best for him, since he was able to put a lounger on his balcony and lay out for hours in the sun. It burned his wounds and scars, and sometimes just his skin, but his inner rage shriveled and he found himself more often than not smiling, despite his gruesome maw. Which was a bit problematic when he had a funny friend.

“Hey dude, ummm…what’s up with your teeth?”

Noctis suddenly stopped laughing and closed his mouth, covering it with his hand.

“I didn’t mean to make you self conscious or anything…I’m just wondering why they’re so sharp. Is it a Lucis king thing?”

Noctis glanced inside his apartment, trying to gauge when Ignis would be coming over. Ultimately, he choose to be honest. “Prompto, if I tell you, you have to promise not to tell ANYBODY.”

“What? Did you file your teeth when your were being stupid? We all have moments like that. I pierced my bellybutton.” He pulled up his shirt, showing the scar.

Noctis couldn’t help but snort. “No, I wish…” he sobered. “Um, you know how I said I was attacked by a daemon when I was a kid?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I was infected.”

Prompto furrowed his brow. “Infected with what?”

“The Scourge.”

Prompto was silent, but let out a breathless laugh. “What? That’s…that’s ridiculous. The Scourge can’t exist in Crown City. And…you should be a daemon by now if you were sick…right?”

“I think it’s because we are in the City and I’m from the Lucis bloodline. But…uh…” He pulled off his shirt and showed the several layers wrapping around his chest. He untied that and finally let the gaping wound breathe. “…what do you think of this?”

“Ugh…” Prompto had a wince on his face. “Dude…that’s nasty.”

Shamefully, Noctis began to wrap it back up. “Sorry…I just thought…”

“No, no, you’re fine.” He stated, pulling the bandages lose. “You can let it breathe for a minute. But like, have you ever had anyone look at it?”

The sunlight glared on his skin, and he winced before covering the slash. “No, I’ve been too scared to. What will the kingdom do if they find out the only prince is turning into a daemon?”

Prompto didn’t have an answer. “I…don’t know. But there has to be something we can do…what about Luna?”

“What about her?”

“Does she know? Couldn’t she come and help?”

Noctis sighed. “Yeah, she knows. We’ve been trying to get her over here for her own safety, but the Empire has been nothing but stubborn on it.”

“Must be hard.”

“It sucks!”

The two lapsed into silence, both lost in their thoughts. “Well, you have to tell someone eventually. You don’t want them to find out when it’s too late.”

“…yeah. Just…give me some time. I have to figure out what I’m going to do. I want to have a game plan so that my dad doesn’t have to worry about it.”

“Okay,” Prompto agreed, “but I will continue to bother you about it.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”

Prompto grinned, and then laid his hand on Noctis’ shoulder. “And dude, I’m here for you. If you need anything, just let me know.”

Noctis gave a thumbs up in return.

Though he asked for time, the Scourge waited for no man.

It was end of fall of his Senior year, winter was just around the corner, and the sun had been hiding for a few weeks now. In the middle of a boring lecture, Noctis found himself dozing slightly, before a there was a faint tickle in his throat. The tickle turned into a cough, and one cough turned into four. He held his hand over his mouth. When he pulled it away, his hand was covered in black liquid.

“Uh, Mr. Garrison? I need to be excused.”

“Caelum, this is a very important lecture, especially to you. No interrupting my class. Unless you don’t think the rules apply to you, Your Majesty.”

Noctis coughed again, and looked to Prompto for help.

“Mr. Garrison, I really think that—“

“Argentum! You’re on thin ice as it is! Shut your trap!”

Unable to hold back, Noctis fell into a coughing fit, making disgusting noises the whole time.

“Caelum, get ahold of yourself. Someone get him some water!”

Noctis fell out of his seat and landed on his knees. He heaved before vomiting more black fluid onto the floor. When the heaving halted, he looked up at his peers in horror. The remnants of the liquid dripped from his mouth and his the whites of his eyes turned black. At the sight, many people screamed.

“He’s a daemon!” Someone shouted.

“That’s enough!” The teacher called. “Argentum, take Noctis to the office. NOW!”

“Yes, sir!” Prompto wrapped an arm around his shoulder and urged him out of the room.

“…Prompto…?”

“I gotcha buddy. We’re going to get you home.”

Further behind them, they could hear the teacher evacuating the classroom.

“It’s over…it’s all over…”

The next few weeks were a blur. Once Regis found out, Noctis was moved back into the Citadel, and put into lockdown in his room, while the council debated his fate. News of his grim transformation made it’s way to news outlets. The whole city fell to pieces at the idea of their only Prince being a daemon. Ignis and Gladio were livid that he hadn’t told them, but once he disclosed the truth, they were devastated.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to keep this from us,” Ignis apologized. “I thought I knew everything about you, and I only have your best interest at heart.”

“I know, Iggy. I just didn’t know what I was supposed to do.” He huddled in on himself. “I don’t know what’s going to happen now…”

Gladio, who was leaning against the wall, spoke. “What do you want to do?”

Noctis shrugged. “I can’t go back to school, everyone knows.”

Before he could finish that thought, there was a knock at the door. “Noctis?”

“Oh, dad…come in.”

Regis entered, the crowns guard waiting in the hall. He was silent.

Noctis rose, still holding himself. “What’s up?”  

“The council has reached a decision.” He shuttered. “I’m sorry, this is really hard to say. But we…are sending you away. There’s a cave on the South side of Duscae. Your Crownsguard will be escorting you there, where you will remain until such a time when the Oracle can recover you.”

Noctis didn’t say much, because he didn’t have the words. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting anything good.

“We will be diligent in keeping up in talks with the Empire. Luna will come to Lucis, and you will be healed.”

“But…” Noctis whispered, “can she heal a full daemon?” A black cloud of smoke came off of him as he spoke, the negativity overwhelming him.

“We won’t know until we try,” Regis assured. Then, he stepped up and hugged Noctis tightly, despite the toxin. “I love you, son. And I will find a way to bring you home.”

The Ring of Lucii his father wore made his wound throb, and he winced in pain. But the warmth of his father’s embrace was worth the pain. Soon enough, it ended.

“I guess I should give the Engine blade back then, huh?”

“No, Noctis. I gave you that sword as a gift, and I will not take it from you. You will need it even more now where you’re going.”

Noctis nodded in understanding. “Then I guess I should get packing.”

Three years later.

“Sir, a car has arrived from the western gate. A man and a woman claim to be part of an Envoy from the empire.”

Regis sat on his throne, feeling older than ever. “An Envoy?”

“Yes sir.”

“Send them in.”

The man entered first, a carefree saunter in his step. “Your Majesty, good to see you. Ah, Insomnia, the crown jewel of Lucis. How I have longed to bask in its presence.”

Regis scowled, “Has the Empire grown so arrogant it sends its chancellor as an Envoy?”  

“Not just an Envoy,” Ardyn Izuna laughed. “But the promise of a treaty.”

Regis quietly listened, daring to hope.

“The Emperor has agreed to a ceasefire. We will withdraw our occupation in the western Territories and we will deliver the Princess Lunafreya Nox Flouret into your custody.”

Regis studied the man, waiting for the catch. “And in return?”

Ardyn smiled, enjoying having all the cards. He turned and gestured to the figure that waited in the hall. “Your son, Prince Noctis, must marry the Princess Lunafreya in one month’s time.”

Luna herself walked into the room, looking quite small. Followed by her brother Ravus, smug as ever.

Regis stood, cane in hand. “So you’ve come to dangle a carrot in front of my face? Prince Noctis has been gone for three years now. This is no news to the Empire.”

How awful Luna must have felt, knowing there was nothing she could do.

“Oh but Your Majesty!” Ardyn feigned sympathy. “If anyone can heal your dear son, it’s the Oracle. After all, she still feels quite ardently for him. Don’t you?”

Luna balled up her fists and bowed at the waist. “Please, King Regis, please grant me the chance to try. To save Noctis is all I wish.”

Not that he didn’t believe in Luna’s abilities, but it had never been done before.

“I’ll tell you what,” began Ardyn. “I will give you the Oracle up front. In one week, you can give me an answer about the wedding. If the answer is no, the Lady Lunafreya returns with me to Niflhiem.”

“Niflhiem? No, Tenebrae!” Ravus insisted fiercely.

“Oh tut tut. She has too much freedom over there. So I will personally escort her to her new permanent home in Graela. She’ll love it.”

Regis grit his teeth, hating the stench of the deal. He so badly wanted Luna to come for Noctis, but this stunk of a trap. He didn’t have much of a choice.

Ardyn left without another word, only offering a bow. Once he was gone, Luna bowed heavily.

“King Regis, I thank you for your hospitality. I will do everything in my power to heal the Prince.”

“Luna,” Regis addressed, in a much calmer, fonder tone. “Even if this doesn’t work, I can only hope that you find much needed respite from under the Empire’s thumb.”

She nodded. “Thank you, King Regis. If it is not too much trouble, I would like to get going to Noctis as soon as possible.”

“Yes, of course. The Prince’s guard will escort you to the caves.”

“I will escort Luna to the caves,” Ravus spoke up.

“Do you think I am foolish in my old age?” Regis bit, “the Empire will not be allowed anywhere near Prince Noctis. His loyal companions are a much more suitable party for the Lady to travel with. Ravus, you will remain here, where I can see you. Or you can return to Niflheim. If you dare to interfere, I will take you into custody.”

The man did not like being bossed around.

“Then with your majesty’s permission, I will take my leave.”

“You are dismissed.”

Luna held her breath as Ravus dared to glare at her, before he stormed out.

—

It was only an hour later that Ignis arrived at the Citadel, prepared for another trip to Duscae. Gladio arrived not long after, making sure the car was packed with camping gear.

“Lady Lunafreya, it is wonderful to finally meet you, though I wish the circumstances were better.” Ignis greeted.

“You must be Ignis,” she replied. “The well mannered hand of the King.” She looked over to the buffer man in the party. “And you must be Gladiolus, the Shield.”

“At your service,” he said, gruffly. “Uh, is that what you plan on wearing?”

Luna sheepishly looked down to the dress and sandals she wore. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in casual clothes.”

“We’ll stop at the Sporting Goods store after we pick up Prompto.” He assessed. “The caves the Noct lives in can be dicey. Damp, slick, and dark. Not unlike Ignis’ mom.”

Ignis elbow him in the gut. “Behave yourself in front of Royalty.”

Luna smiled at the interaction, “Then I’m glad we have someone so knowledgeable in our group.”

Once the shopping was complete and Prompto was retrieved from his house, the party set forth for Duscae. Ignis drove while Gladio stat shotgun. Prompto kept the Princess company in the back.

“So, I never really had the chance to thank you, y’know? If it wasn’t for that letter you sent, I don’t know if I ever would have had the courage to talk to Noctis. And he’s become my bestest buddy after all.”

Luna smiled, “even after all this time?”

“Sure! Y’see, once a month, the three of us will go down to the caves and deliver some goods to him. Like comic books and his favorite snacks, even a portable charger so he could listen to music when he’s lonely.”

“So you’ve seen him? He’s still human?”

Prompto took on a much more forlorn look. “Not in person since he left. I think he’s afraid of scaring us. There’s a big metal crate just outside the caves and we write messages back and forth. But...we stopped hearing anything back from him a couple of months ago. He still takes what we give him, but...I don’t know.”

That last message she received from Noctis was about a year ago. It was heartfelt and sweet, but in the end, he said ending the messages would be for the best. He didn’t want to hurt Umbra.

She appreciated his thoughtfulness, but it was still heartbreaking.

“I see,” she finally said. “Then we best be on our guard going in.”

“Y’know,” Prompto spoke up so the car could hear him. “Are we even going to know which daemon he is? Like, there can’t just be one in there.”

“Knowing Noctis and his huge ego and temper, I’d guess he’d be the biggest one in there.”

“Like the boss.”

“Perhaps,” thought Ignis. “But we shouldn’t rule out the imps.”

“You are all so mean,” Said Luna, not meaning it.

“We try to remember the fun parts on Noct, and tease him like he’s still here. It makes it easier.”

“Soon, he shall be with us again.”

—

They stayed at a Motel for the night, and in the morning they ate a modest breakfast at the diner across the street. “Howdy folks,” the tipster greeted. “Where y’all off to this fine day?”

“The Daurell Springs, for some fishing,” Ignis lied.

“Daurell, uh? Better be careful out there at night. There’s a monster of a daemon that lives in the caves.”

“Daemon, huh?” Gladio sipped on his coffee. “Any details?”

“Not much to say,” said the man. “Everyone that’s gone after the bounty either never returned or refused to talk about it. We’re close to taking the bounty down all together, since so many hunters have died.”

The group looked at each other.

“We’ll take it on.” Proposed Ignis.

“Ya sure? Didn’t ya just hear what I said?”

Gladio stood. “Don’t worry about it. We aren’t hunters in the first place.”

They arrived at the caves mid afternoon.

“Is this it then?” Luna asked.

“The North Daurell caves. There’s a second set of caves about a half mile south. They’re a little smaller, but much more dangerous.”

At the entrance of the cave, Prompto looked in the crate. “Empty. Either Noct took the stuff, or someone else did.”

“What did you have in there?” Asked Luna.

“Uh, some candy, the latest issues of Batman and Robin, a six pack of coke, and a new portable charger. The king sent along some clean clothes and a new blanket.”

“I threw in some canned goods,” said Ignis. “Though I doubt he’ll eat the beans or corn.”

“And I packed in some firewood and matches. No idea what he’s got in there to make a fire with.”

Luna looked at the opening of the cave and it’s total blackness. Dread and fear mixed and settled in her stomach. “I guess we should move on, then.”

She took a few steps closer, but before she could prepare herself, a harpy dove at her from outside, snatched her by the shoulders and flew her deeper into the cave. It let her go, and she rolled across the ground.

“Hey!” Prompto shouted as he and the others raced after. But before they even got close, a set of iron bars shot up from the ground and sealed them off from Luna.

“Your majesty!” Ignis shouted.

“I’m alright!” She assured, summoning her trident. She fought with the Harpy, doing her best to fend off its attacks.

Prompto took aim from behind the bars and took three shots, each hitting the mark, before the Harpy fell. Luna took a second to breathe before she came back to the bars.

Gladio was furiously pulling at them, but they wouldn’t budge. “Everyone stand back!” He called before summoning his broadsword. With a shout, he careened the sword into the bars, only for it to rebound and send a painful vibration up his arms. It didn’t even leave a dent.

“You can’t expect to break them,” spoke a treacherous voice.

The group spun around, and saw the High Chancellor Ardyn Izuna standing in the entrance of the cave, flanked by Niflheim soldiers. “It’s impenetrable. And you fell right for it.”

“You planned this?!” Shouted Gladio.

“Of course. You don’t think I’m naive enough to just hand the Oracle over to Regis without a little insurance do you?”

“Why you—!”

Ardyn held a finger over his mouth, like a teacher scolding a kindergartener. “The Oracle has one week. She can either heal the prince or kill him, if she isn’t killed first.” He smiled. “If not, I will be taking his Majesty for myself.”

Gladio spit in his direction.

“Ta ta for now!” He waved back.

Prompto turned back quickly. “We have to find a way out for you.”

“Or a way in for us.” Ignis added.

“It’s alright, I can handle this.” She assured. “Do not forget that I have spent my life as a Prisoner and not in luxury.”

Gladio frowned. “Well, we’ll be here. There’s a haven just over there, and we’ll set up camp.”

“I’ll make sure to save you some food,” added Ignis.

“Do you want to take my gun? Just in caseies?”

“Thank you Prompto, but I will be alright.”

From deeper in the cave, a creature watched the silhouetted figures at the entrance. It took aim, and fired.

“Look out!” Prompto called.

But Luna didn’t know what to look out for, so the thick webbing stuck to her back before she was dragged back into the cave. Long, sharp legs took hold of her as she was wrapped up in more webbing. She spun quickly, disoriented. Webbing covered her mouth and cut off her voice.

“Your Majesty!!” Someone cried out.

All was dark as she was plunged into a deep hole, and the monster kept her in it’s grip and carried her to the depths.

They came to a harsh stop in a dark cavern. Faint light from a elemental deposit illuminated the monster just enough that she could see it. At first, without light, she assumed it was an Arachne, a spider type daemon. But with closer examination, she saw the daemon had the body of a man, and it wasn’t attached at the waist like most Arachne either. This beast looked like it was reclining on the spider portion of it’s body. False, human legs covered in a black shell dangled just below her.

The daemon had yet to attack her. It just kept her wrapped in it’s webbing, and turned her over carefully with it’s spindly front legs. The prodding was uncomfortable, given that the legs were sharp, but it had yet to actually harm her. It was observing her.  

“…not like others…” It spoke, with a definite male voice, despite being broken. Only a small handful of Daemons were ever documented to talk, and out of them, it was nonsense. This must have been the daemon the tipster had talked about.

“…who…you…? Why…here…?”

Luna shifted uncomfortably, trying to break herself free.

The daemon brought her closer to it’s face, as it walked closer to the light for a better view. Human hands with long black claws reached out and touched her face, cutting the webbing from her lips.

She gasped, taking in much needed air. Her heart pounded in her chest as her breaths ran ragged. He just continued to study her, feeling her hair.

“…not hunter…”

Finally, she gained the courage to speak. “My name is Lunafreya Nox Flouret, and I am here to help.”

He tilted his head, curious, and continued to touch her face. “…Lu…na…?” A stray claw cut her cheek and she winced.

He withdrew his hands, frightened. But he pulled her closer still, so their noses were almost touching. From here, she could see his sharp teeth. But more interestingly, he had blue eyes. As far as she knew, daemons had yellow or red eyes.

The cut on her cheek began to bleed, and the daemon lapped up the blood with a swipe of his tongue.

Luna swallowed, unsure of what to make of this development.

Suddenly, everything became clear. The spider half of his body was growing from his back. He was tender and calm, and his blue eyes…

“Noctis?” She whispered.

The daemon’s eyes widened and he quickly set her on the ground. One of his legs pried the webbing off of her and he backed away.

“Noctis? Don’t you recognize me?” She begged softly.

He continued to back away, until he was pressed against the wall.

“I’m here. I’ve come to help you…”

He kept his eyes trained on her as he began to travel up the side of the wall.

“Where are you going?”

“…you can’t…too late…” And with that, he ducked into a tunnel and scurried out of sight.

“Wait!” She cried after. Coming to the wall, she was infinitely grateful to Gladio for convincing her to get the hiking boots and jeans. It took some tricky work, but she climbed up and into the tunnel and then flicked on her flashlight. “Noctis! Please, I just want to help!”

He didn’t respond, but she could hear him scurrying.

He was faster than her, given he had eight legs and could scale walls. Still, she ran through the tunnel as fast as she could. To her surprise, daemons had yet to make an appearance, and she vaguely wondered if Noctis was responsible for the absence.

Finally, the Tunnel opened up to a large cavern. High, high up, there was a long crack in the ceiling and sunlight came down, just enough to illuminate the cavern. On the far side, a spring rippled, and on it’s shore bloomed several plants.

But Luna didn’t notice most of this at first, since in the middle of the cavern sat a half collapsed church, at least the sanctuary of one. It appeared to have fallen in through the hole in the ceiling, due to poor planning. But most of it was still in tact.

If Noctis was to be anywhere, this would be it.

Quietly, she made her way over, and peeked inside. The whole back half was open, showing the view of the lake and garden. This was definitely his home. A nest of sorts was arranged out of blankets and sleeping bags. A small fire pit was nearby, with a campfire rack and frying pan over it. A stack of books laid on an old pew. Various cans, empty and full, littered the ground. On another pew laid several sets on clothes and a pair of black boots. It looked like a normal campsite.

At first, she didn’t see him, because he was huddled in the corner. If not for his bulbous abdomen, she probably wouldn’t have seen him at all. As she crept closer, she accidentally kicked a tin can on the ground.

He shot up, startled, and got ready to run again.

“No no,” she held her arms out. “It’s alright. I’m only here to help you.”

Still, he seemed uneasy.

“Please Noctis,” she didn’t step any closer, just held her hands out. “If you care about me at all, then you’ll let me try. The Empire let me go, but only temporarily.”

The daemon shifted, slowly drawing nearer.

“They said, if you and I marry within the month, I get to be free forever and they’ll withdraw from Lucis. Isn’t that great?”

He turned and looked to the floor. “…too late…no return…”

She looked at him with sympathy and came closer. “It is not too late. You can still speak, you understand me. Noctis is still in there!”

“…do I…frighten you…?”

“You did,” she said honestly. “At least at first. But I’m not afraid anymore. I couldn’t be.”

He finally looked at her, clear pain scrawled over his face. “…I waited…for you…”

“I know…” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

He lowered his human legs to the ground, and took careful steps towards her. “…I wanted…you…”

She nodded, holding her arms out. “And every day, I longed to see you. I begged with Ravus to let me come sooner, but the Empire wouldn’t budge.”

Finally, he was in front of her and he reached out.

Luna closed the distanced and hugged him. “But I’m here now, and you can’t get rid of me.”

How long had it been since he had human contact? Three years now? It felt like ten. She hadn’t even begun to use her magic, but he already felt better. They stayed like that for many moments, until a burning sensation set in and Noctis pulled away, pained.

“Are you alright?”

He hugged his arms to his chest. “…hurts…”

“What does? Did you hurt yourself?”

He shook his head, before touching her chest with a gentle claw. “…light…”

She gasped in understanding. “Oh Noctis…”

“…hate it…hate this…” he looked at his hands. Then he swallowed, focusing. “It’s…hard to speak. But I…try.”

“I understand. When you don’t have anyone to talk to, I’m sure it would be.” She held her hands out again. “We’ll go slow. If this hurts too much, just let me know. Alright?”

Noctis gently laid his hands in hers, and nodded.

She closed her eyes, and a warmth radiated from her hands. Then she moved them gently to cup his face and leaned in to touch their foreheads together. “Blessed stars of life and light, heal us now from darkness’ blight.”

The glow built, and Noctis scrunched his eyes against it until he tore himself away and rubbed at his face madly, like he was trying to put out a fire. “Not good…too late…not good…”

“No, that was very good!” She praised.

Without another word, he crawled his way over to the lake and gazed in, taking in his reflection. “…no change…”

“There might not be, right away. Give it time.” She hunched forward slightly while her hands shook.

“…what’s wrong?”

“That just took a lot out of me. Sorry…”

He shook his head, not bothered in the least. He reached out with his human hands and forelegs, lifting her carefully. “…this okay? Is this okay?”

She nodded.

Noctis carried her over to his little nest and laid her down. “…food? Water?”

“Water would be nice.”

He handed her a canteen. “Rest…will be here.”

Luna took a drink, and then relaxed into the blankets. She watched Noctis go over to the lake and stare at his reflection some more. Her eyes scanned the walls, taking in the details she hadn’t noticed before. With fondness, she saw his fishing gear sitting out, like it was used recently. Even in this hell, he was still able to do what he enjoyed.

She looked back at him, and saw he was standing just at the edge of the sunlight. He reached out, letting his arms and face soak in the light. This is what kept him sane all this time. As he took it in, she saw black smoke arising from his skin, and wondered if the same thing happened when she healed him. It wasn’t look before he pulled away and rubbed at his skin.

Then he looked up at her, meeting her gaze. She smiled at him, and then closed her eyes to rest.

A few moments passed and she found herself lying in grass. When she blinked her eyes open, she saw the landscape of her beloved Tenebrae, but it had an ethereal quality to it. She sat up.

“Luna,” A child’s voice spoke.

“Noctis?”

He was hazy at first, but soon he approached her, appearing as she knew him, a child. He pouted, disappointed. “I had hoped, when I saw you again, it wouldn’t be like this.”

She stood, coming closer. She too was a child, most likely the way he remembered her as well. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”

“I do. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

She smiled assuringly. “I’m not sad. I’m with you, aren’t I?”

“Luna, you may have everyone else fooled. You think as Oracle you have to hide your feelings. But I can see right through you. You’re scared, and lonely, and deeply stressed.”

The girl sighed, feeling her shoulders sink. “Even in my writings, you could see right through me.” The wind picked up, and Luna felt her dress float and grow in the gust. When she spoke, she had the voice of a woman. Now that she was coming clean, the childhood innocence she had clung to around him had faded. “It seems that we’re destined to suffer, is it not? I as the Oracle, and you as the future King. Will we ever have a happy ending? Will this war never end?”

Noctis seemed to consider her. “You can stay here with me, where it’s safe. I’ll protect you. Then there’s no reason we couldn’t be happy.”

“Noctis…I can’t stay. Neither can you.”

He shook his head. “Even if I was healed from my curse, I can’t go out there. I’m…” He looked at his hands. His shoulders grew wide and he became tall, the voice of a man passed by his lips. “I’m still a monster on the inside. The darkness has weaved it’s way into my mind, and horrible thoughts have taken hold. I’ve done evil deeds, and so many have suffered at my hands. Who am I to be called King now?”

“Perhaps not now, but someday soon. It has been ordained by the Astrals that you will rid this world of darkness. And I am destined to help you.”

The blossoms around them turned into dust, forming clouds of a deep blue. “How am I to rid the world of Darkness if I cannot rid it from myself?”

She reached her hand out to him, pleading. “That’s where I come in.”

He didn’t seem so sure. “You used all your strength, and you didn’t make a difference. So then how do you expect to free me?” A black smoke came from his lips as he spook, tainting the air.

“I…don’t know.” She said honestly. “But I’m not giving up.”

She watched as his skin turned gray and black tendrils sprouted from his back. “Is just trying good enough? Luna, what hope is there?”

“If you don’t have hope, everything is fruitless!” She insisted. The ground itself dissolved around them, and they were left floating in a deep void.

He began to sink away. “I spent all of my hope over the last three years. I don’t have any left. So maybe I’m doomed.”

She reached out to take his hand, but it was just out of reach. “Noctis, I will save you. Please! Please believe me!”

But he didn’t answer.  

A few hours later, when night had fallen, Luna arose. Noctis was laying beside her, his fingers just barely touching hers.

“Hmm?” She roused, sitting up.

“You’re awake.” He stated, pulling away from her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright…needed it.” He assured. “Hungry?”

“A bit,” she admitted.

“LUNA!!” Someone’s voice shouted deep within the cave.

“Prompto,” Noctis recognized it immediately.

“Luna! Can you hear me!? Gladio got a saw! We’re coming to get you!” These words were echoed, and hard to understand, but she got the message.

“…must be scared. I took you.” He held out a hand to her. “…climb on…back. I’ll take you.”

She took his hand and straddled the small of his back.

Noctis rushed back to the entrance of the cave and paused in the tunnel way.

“Go on,” he urged.

“You should come too!”

He shook his head and stayed further back in the shadows. “...not ready...”

“LUNA!!” Prompto called again.

“I’m here!” She replied, running over to the bars. “I’m okay.”

“How’s it coming, Gladio?”

The man in question was frantically sawing in one of the bars. “It’s coming, but it’s either me or the saw that’ll go out before these bars do.”

“Are you alright?” Prompto asked Luna.

“I’m fine,” she assured. “I found Noctis. He’s still human in mind.”

“But in body?”

“A little less than terrifying.”

“Where is he? I want to see him!” Prompto whined.

Luna glanced back to the tunnel they came from. “Come on, Noctis. They are your friends, nothing could change that!”

Slowly, Noctis came into the light of their flashlights, but just enough that the human part of his body showed.

“That’s not so scary!” Prompto protested.

“Hey Noct! Mind giving me a hand? If memory serves right, you’re strong as hell!”

Noctis shook his head, taking a step back.

Luna pleaded with him, “Noctis, if we can get you out of here and somewhere safe, I can heal you better. If not, Ardyn will come and collect you at the end of the week. You’ll be fighting for the Empire!”

Noctis rubbed his arm, then finally answered, “…stand back.”

Once everyone was well out of the way, Noctis came out of his hiding spot and shot a web at the bars. The other three gasped in shock at the sight of his full appearance.

Noctis took hold of the web and tugged hard. “…strong…can’t break.”

Luna, regardless of her small size, ran and took hold of the web too. The bars didn’t budge.

Wordlessly, Noctis came up to the cage and wrapped his legs around the metal, pulling with all his strength. The bars groaned, but did not give. Noctis hissed in anger.

One last trick, he snorted hard and hocked a wad of spit on the bars. It sizzled, but ultimately did nothing.

“Hmm,” thought Ignis. “That’s not surprising, given that the Empire catches daemons. How else would they keep them, if not for daemon-proof bars?”

Noctis, ashamed, began to creep back into the shadows.

“Hey wait! Buddy!” Prompto reached through the bars, holding out his hand. “You can’t just leave! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“…scared…”

“We’re not scared! Come on, you should know better.”

Ignis watched the scene in interest. He had never seen the Prince so skittish and hesitant before. “Your Majesty,” he began. “Have you had any other visitors?”

“Hunters…often. Nifs…” He said, then as an afterthought, he added, “Ardyn.”

“The High Chancellor?” Gladio asked.

“What did he say to you Noct?” Ignis pressed. “Did he hurt you?”

The daemon prince came closer, “…I killed…hunters.” He admitted.

Gladio shrugged. “It’s kill or be killed, right? It’s not your fault if you didn’t egg them on.”

“…it was so easy…” he looked at his hands.

“If Ardyn made you feel worthless over that, let it go. Noctis, he wants you to be a daemon, he wants you to be a monster and a killer! But you’re a Prince! You’re better than this! Better than what he thinks of you! We’re here for you! We’ve always been here for you!”

Noctis let tears run down his face as he wept into his hands. Though there was only light from their flashlights, his body ached. Their kindness and positivity hurt.

“…so alone…so quiet…” He moaned.

Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto reached and stretched to take hold of him and pull him closer. Noctis didn’t fight, only allowed the pull.

Gladio, the shield of the king, wrapped a strong arm around his shoulder. Ignis, the hand of the king, took him by the right arm. Prompto, the smile of the king, took him by the left. Finally, Luna, the heart of the King, wrapped both arms around his waist.

“You’re never alone.”

Noctis winced and tensed. It was all so much light!

“Don’t let go!” He begged, nearly screaming. Everyone held on tighter, as he began to writhe in pain.

From just beyond the entrance of the cave, the group could hear a combination of groaning metal, growling, and darkness bubbling.

“That’s not good…” Assessed Gladio, over his shoulder.

A huge daemon was crawling its way out of the darkness. It’s sword ignited with a flame as it continued to rise and grow.

“There’s no way we can take that thing on.” Prompto lamented.

“Well, we’re going to have to.” Confirmed Gladio. “It’s looking right at us.”

Noctis hissed at the Red Giant, showing his fangs.

“You two stay back. We’ll handle this!” Ignis assured, letting go of Noctis.

Prompto and Gladio followed suit, summoning their weapons.

The Red Giant let out a thundering roar.

Noctis growled back, his hands gripping the bars.

“Noctis…” Luna continued to hang on. “What about the crevasse above the church? Can you climb out of there?”

“…too steep…fall…” He snarled as Ignis was nearly stepped on by the beast.

Luna took hold of one of the bars too, “I may not be strong, but I can’t sit around and do nothing.”

He nodded at her and continued to pull.

“Prompto! GET UP!!”

He watched in mute horror as the Giant brought his sword down on top of the gunner, and heard him cry out in pain.

“No!” With desperation, he hooked his legs around the bars again and pulled desperately. His limbs trembled and his teeth grit. The metal groaned and rocks fell from the ceiling. The bars bent slowly as Noctis cried out with the strain of effort.

Finally, one gave way, and made just enough space for him to squeeze through. He reached out with a human hand to Luna. “Stay here…don’t want anything happening…”

She nodded. “Stay safe.”

Finally, Noctis looked like the Prince she hoped to see and he summoned the Engine Blade. With a shout, he flung the sword out and let it fly through the air. It stuck true in the monster’s chest as it shrieked out in pain. He warped to the sword, and yanked it from it’s place.

Ignis gathered Prompto from the ground and dragged him back to the safety of the cave. Luna pulled him inside the bars and propped him up against the rock. “Prompto? Can you hear me?”

“…is that you, mom?” He groaned.

“He’ll be fine,” stated Ignis, “if you think you can heal him.”

Luna summoned her trident. “I can try.”

Noctis crawled all over the giant, distracting the daemon from the others. His legs pierced the tough skin, as he ripped and tore into the beast. He was glad it was nighttime and none of his friends would see the carnage he was inflicting. Finally, the giant seized him in his hand and squeezed with all his might. Noctis wriggled, hissing violently, until the giant wound up and hurled him into the side of the cave.

Gladio claimed the final blow, as he struck down the middle of the giant, impaling it with his broadsword. The beast wailed out and melted back into the shadows.

Prompto, now healed thanks to the Oracle, came running back out with Luna in tow. “Alright! We got him!” Then he looked around. “Where’s Noct?”

Gladio and Ignis looked at each other. “We…don’t know.”

“It is rather dark.”

“Noct!” Prompto called.

“Look! Over there!” Gladio shouted, running over to a heap of rocks.

Noctis was gravelly injured and laid on the ground, black fluid oozing from his lips and nose. Luna slid to kneel in front of him.

“Noctis…” She parted his matted hair from his face.

“At least you’re safe…” he whispered.

“Yes, I am. But you aren’t.”

The sounds of bubbling darkness emerged from somewhere behind them, accompanied by wicked chattering and groaning. Two more giants sprouted from the ground, along with a handful of imps.

“Uh…guys? We got a little bit of a problem here.”

“Let’s move!”

“What about Noct? We can’t just leave him behind!”

“The daemons won’t hurt him.” Gladio assured.

“I’m not leaving him!” Luna argued. “He’s your Prince, you can’t leave him either!”

Gladio frowned. “Tch, then I guess we got no choice.” He shouldered his sword as the sound of a distant roar sounded off from the trees. Something else was approaching.

Luna turned her attention back to Noctis, her hands glowing with a warm light as she cupped his face. “I’m sorry for this pain.”

“…pain either way.” He managed a smile.

She rubbed her thumb over his cheek and rested her forehead against his. “Blessed Stars of Light and Life…” She began.

The roaring grew louder before a serpent broke through the tree line.

“You’re the Oracle!” Gladio shouted, killing an imp before two more took it’s place. “If you’re going to do something really cool, now would be the time!”

Luna focused harder, trying desperately to do more. Noctis began to feel colder and colder in her hands.

She spoke from the heart. “My Dear Noctis, all I should want is for you to be healed. I have no right to ask anything else. But still, in my selfish heart of hearts, I pray that you and I may spend the rest of our days together. That our children may live wonderful and happy childhoods, and that I may wake up to your smiling face everyday. For I my love for you is vast as the ocean, my king, and I will stand by you, always.”

With that, she sealed the promise with a tender kiss, pouring out all the love and affection in her heart.

A beam of light broke over the couple as little embers rose from his body and began to disintegrate the parasite connected to his back.

Luna refused to open her eyes. “Hear my prayers Bahamut, breathe light into this body once again!”

The light illuminated the battlefield. Luna’s trident, which lay next to her, floated into the air and was absorbed into Noctis. All across Lucis, and even Niflheim, Royal Tombs flared up and the arms of the past kings of Lucis came rushing at Noctis.

He, in his human form raised out of Luna’s embrace to meet them. All at once, in a burst of light, the Prince floated as an armiger. Thirteen crystalline weapons circled him, glowing with the power of light.

Noctis struck, each arm taking a different target, before he bolted forward and hit the dragon head on.

The others watched in amazement as the king was barely a sliver of light in the radiance above. This was the Power of Kings.

Once the daemons had fallen, Noctis returned to the ground. Only two feet, and a long black cape draped from his shoulders. He turned to face his friends, exhaustion clear on his face.

“I…I’m okay…” he said, looking at his hands. The parasite had left black, blotchy scars on his face and neck, but he could live with that.

Luna rushed to hug him, but Prompto got there first. “BUDDY! YOU’RE ALIVE!! THAT WAS SO COOL!”

The Prince was overwhelmed for a moment and pushed Prompto away from him. “Uh, yeah. It was pretty cool.”

“Oh good,” added in Gladio, “his ego’s back too.”

Noctis gave him a look, but said nothing.

“Noctis…” Luna spoke, approaching him. She appeared to be having a hard time just staying on her feet. “It worked…you’re healed.”

“I am…” he confirmed. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her close and supported her. He left a brief kiss on her cheek, smiling all the while. “Thanks to you.”

Ignis took one look at the exhausted couple and made an executive decision. “It’s too dangerous to be out here any longer. We’ll sleep at the Haven, and then in the morning, we’ll return to Lucis. After all, we have a wedding to plan.”

“And an Empire’s ass to kick!” Added Gladio.

Noctis smiled a perfectly human smile. “I’m ready to take on the world.”

[monstraduplicia]

ALL OF THEM!!!! for baal

JESUS RIN i’ll answer them under the cut bc i dont want to take up someones ENTIRE DASH (but i love u for asking about my boy!!!)

1. What’s their full name, how’s it pronounced, and what does it mean?

baal, like any other demon, has several variations of his name. there’s baal, bael, ba’al….and countless others. that being said he’s always liked the simplicity of baal, pronounced like “ball.” and, while he doesn’t really vibe with the fact that his name means “devil” and “leader”, as he doesn’t see himself as holding power over anyone, he does like how scared bible-thumpers get when they hear it

2. What’s their date of birth? Do they follow the stereotypes of their zodiac?

well, considering he was blinked into existence over a millennia ago, he doesn’t have a birthday. that being said, he once dated someone who was hella into the zodiac, and they believed he’s most like a scorpio or an aries

3. What type of drunk are they?

fun. drunk baal is wiggly and giggly and dumb as shit and will def light himself on fire just for laughs and he gets really handsy and cuddly. he basically becomes a big toddler

4. Give three of their strengths and three of their weaknesses.

strengths: heart/empathy, humor even in the worst of situations, and of course, quick-healing/immortality. weaknesses: lonely and more than a bit antisocial, when he gets angry, you might want to clear the room because he goes WILD, that being said, he doesn’t get proper angry often, and he’s very reckless

5. What’s their favourite food?

italian!!!!! just anything pasta and covered in garlic

6. If they were to be represented by a seven deadly sin, which would it be?

envy. i mean, dude fell from heaven w/ lucifer bc he wanted something more, something better. then he ends up falling from hell onto earth bc well…he wanted something more, something better. poor guy get bored easily

7. Do they have any living relatives? If they do, which one do they like the least and why?

do god, lucifer, and a plethora of other demons count?? i mean, they are his brothers, right?

8. Describe (or draw) their body type.

skinny, leaner than a swimmers build, but not emaciated. he’s strong, and has sinewy muscles. he’s also tall, around 6″4, with broad shoulders and long, thin fingers

9. What’s their biggest fear?

hurting innocent people

10. Are they a dog or a cat person?

well, considering he can turn into a cat, cats always seem to take a shine to him. dogs, however, tend to bark. but after a couple pets and chin scratches they come along. he likes all animals, to be fair, even the gross or creepy ones. he’s not one to judge

11. Describe them in 5 words.

bright. fiery. reckless. friendly. charming.

12. If your character was handed a puppy, how would they react?

he’d hold it gently, making sure not to drop it as it wiggles around and barks, snapping at his horns. and he’d shush it, whisper little things, showing the dog he means no harm. and when the dog calms down, he’s just face planted in that soft fur and giving it all the tummy rubs it wants

13. How would they react to suddenly being hugged?

hug back!! baal’s quite a hugger, and he gives good ones too!! he knows when someone wants a strong, warm hug or when they want a tepid, polite, just remind me im a physical human, kind of hug

14. What’s their biggest secret?

he’s immortal!!!! well, its not really a secret, considering he’ll mention it. but no one ever believes him, so it’s just the same

15. What are their pet peeves?

ignorance. people who are rude or mean for no reason. bigotry. RUDENESS. people who hurt animals. people who are rude to waiters

16. What’s their opinion on pineapple on pizza?

good. not always needed, but one of his favorite junk foods is pineapple and jalapeno pizza

17. On average, how much sleep do they get at a time?

anywhere from 2hrs to 14. he can sleep all day or not have slept in two days.

18. If they were a superhero, what powers would they have? (if they have powers, what are they and under what conditions do they work?)

well his only “superpower” would probably be that he cant die. he also heals quickly, and cant get sick or an infection. think deadpool. he’s essentially deadpool

19. Does your character collect anything?

vinyls. he has about a hundred of them, and if it wasnt such a bitch to box up when he moved, he’d have more

20. What would your character’s favourite band(s) be?

he’s into a bit of everything when it comes to music, but he’s def into rock and punk more than anything else, and he loves political punk. his most listened to bands would probably be against me!, propagandhi, bad brains, misfits, anthrax, and anti-flag

21. How many languages do they speak, and what are they?

he speaks latin and english, as well as enochian. he also speaks bit of spanish but only about as much as a first year high schooler. and he’s white

22. When your character is sad, what do they do to cheer themselves up?

he liked to blast the cure or type o negative and just stew in it a bit. then he might take a nap or watch a depressing, but amazing movie. then he goes out, gets drunk, makes friends, and has a good time

23. Does your character snore?

only when he’s drunk, and its not so much of a snore as it is like, loud breathing

24. Describe their voice.

deep, but not creepy. rich and with a mischievous edge. he chuckles a lot, finding most things funny. he also tends to talk really quick when he’s excited.

25. How long would they last in a zombie apocalypse?

F O R E V E R

[delicatelysublimeforester]

World Healing Day

Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area in the fog

Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan

Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area, south west sector, in the City of Saskatoon, SK, CA

Native species, Trembling Aspen or Populus tremuloides, quaking aspen, trembling aspen, American aspen, Quakies, mountain or golden aspen, trembling poplar, white poplar,, Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area. Saskatoon, SK, CA

This World Healing Day, April 29, try Shinrin-yoku Forest Bathing, it is an amazing health activity. Immerse yourself in the sights and sounds of the Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area, lay your hands on your favourite tree. Pass the word on, and invite the world to experience; Shinrin-yoku Forest Bathing

“We stand in awe and wonder at the beauty of a single tree. Tall and graceful it stands, yet robust and sinewy with spreading arms decked with foliage that changes through the seasons, hour by hour, moment by moment as shadows pass or sunshine dapples the leaves. How much more deeply are we moved as we begin to appreciate the combined operations of the assembly of trees we call a forest.~Richard St. Barbe Baker

Forest-bathing describes the practice of taking a short, leisurely visit to a forest for health benefits. The practice originated in Japan where it is called shinrin-yoku. A forest bathing trip involves visiting a forest for relaxation and recreation while breathing in volatile substances, called phytoncides (wood essential oils), which are antimicrobial volatile organic compounds derived from trees, such as α-Pinene and limonene.

Incorporating forest bathing trips into a good lifestyle was first proposed in 1982 by the Forest Agency of Japan. It has now become a recognized relaxation and/or stress management activity in Japan. According to Cassandra Szlaraski, ” the Japanese practice of shinrin-yoku, translates to “taking in the forest atmosphere.”

“Soon I was completely isolated in the luxuriant, tangled growth of ferns which were well above my head. In my infant mind I seemed to have entered a fairyland of my dreams. “I wandered on as in a dream, all sense of time and space lost … “I became intoxicated with the beauty all around me, immersed in the joyousness and exultation of feeling part of it all. “I had entered the temple of the wood. I sank to the ground in a state of ecstasy; everything was intensely vivid – the call of a distant cuckoo seemed just for me … “The overpowering beauty of it all entered my very being. “At that moment my heart brimmed over with a sense of unspeakable thankfulness which has followed me through the years since that woodland re-birth …~Richard St. BarbeBaker. “I was in love with life: I was indeed born again, although I could not have explained what had happened to me then.”~Richard St. Barbe Baker My Life My Trees

“In Japan and Korea, forest therapy modalities are integrated into their medical system and are covered by insurance,” said Ben Page, a certified forest therapy guide who founded Shinrin Yoku Los Angeles. ” Meeri Kim, also notes that “phytoncides, which are antimicrobial organic compounds given off by plants. They argue that by breathing in the volatile substances released by the forest, people achieve relaxation… Phytoncides —are colloquially known in forest bathing circles as “the aroma of the forest.” Quing Li, senior Assistant Professor at Nippon Medical School, Tokyo, figures that the increase in people’s natural killer (NK) cells increase due to the Phytoncides which are the essential oils from trees. α-pinene and limonene are examples of tree “perfumes” which are antimicrobial volatile organic compounds.

“For years, I’ve charged my batteries on trees. You have to select a special tree friend. When I came out of hospital after a serious operation, I chose a Cedar of Lebanon. Cedar itself comes from the Arabic word meaning strength.” “I used to do two minutes on and two minutes off, then two minutes again. After about four minutes, your hands begin to tingle. I wouldn’t recommend to a beginner to take more than a minute to start with.” ~Richard St. Barbe Baker speaks of laying the palm of hands on a tree trunk.

And just as Richard St. Barbe Baker attests, so, to does Dr. Li, lay your hands on the trees, touch the trees, and open yourself to the healing. The experience is enhanced, if one absorbs the sights, sounds, colours through all the five senses as one walks slowly and meditatively through the forest. An excellent day spent forest bathing would be to wander for about four hours while walking about 5 kilometers through the woods. Forest bathing can also be done for half this time, strolling 2.5 kilometers over 2.5 hours.

It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air, that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit. —Robert Louis Stevenson

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

Forest Bathing Wikipedia

Healthy Parks Healthy People Central. Forest Bathing

Kim, Meeri. ‘‘Forest bathing’ is latest fitness trend to hit U.S. — ‘Where yoga was 30 years ago’ Washington Post.

Li, Quing. Effect of Forest Bathing trips on Human Immune Systems. Environ Health. 2010 Jan. 15 (1) 9-17. Published online 2009 Mar 25 doi 10.1007/s12199-008-0058-3

Shinrin Yoku

Szlarski, Cassandra What is Forest Bathing? Global News.

What is World Healing Day About World Healing Day A Global Health and Healing Event.

World healing day Facebook

World Healing Day

Your Brain on Nature: Forest Bathing and Reduced Stress. Mother Earth News.

“A forest is a perfect example of the law of return in action. Trees give back to the earth more than they take, while building up humus, and enriching the soil by the minerals that have been carried up to the leaves in the rising sap. By nature man is

a forest dweller. He was cradled in the tropics. His food was the fruit of the trees. He possessed the secret of adaptation to his environment, so that health, gentleness, beauty and strength were enjoyed to the full. In his forest setting man was conscious of his relationship to God and of his unity with all living things.`Richard St. Barbe Baker

For directions as to how to drive to “George Genereux” Urban Regional Park

For directions on how to drive to Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area

For more information:

Blairmore Sector Plan Report; planning for the Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area,  George Genereux Urban Regional Park and West Swale and areas around them inside of Saskatoon city limits

P4G Saskatoon North Partnership for Growth The P4G consists of the Cities of Saskatoon, Warman, and Martensville, the Town of Osler and the Rural Municipality of Corman Park; planning for areas around the afforestation area and West Swale outside of Saskatoon city limits

Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area is located in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada north of Cedar Villa Road, within city limits, in the furthest south west area of the city. 52° 06′ 106° 45′ Addresses: Part SE 23-36-6 – Afforestation Area – 241 Township Road 362-A Part SE 23-36-6 – SW Off-Leash Recreation Area (Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area ) – 355 Township Road 362-A S ½ 22-36-6 Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area (West of SW OLRA) – 467 Township Road 362-A NE 21-36-6 “George Genereux” Afforestation Area – 133 Range Road 3063 Wikimapia Map: type in Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area Google Maps South West Off Leash area location pin at parking lot Web page: https://stbarbebaker.wordpress.com Where is the Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area? with map Where is the George Genereux Urban Regional Park (Afforestation Area)? with map

Pinterest richardstbarbeb

Facebook Group Page: Users of the George Genereux Urban Regional Park

Facebook: StBarbeBaker

Facebook group page : Users of the St Barbe Baker Afforestation Area

Facebook: South West OLRA

Twitter: StBarbeBaker

You Tube Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area

You Tube George Genereux Urban Regional Park

Should you wish to help protect / enhance the afforestation areas, please contact the City of Saskatoon, Corporate Revenue Division, 222 3rd Ave N, Saskatoon, SK S7K 0J5…to support the afforestation area with your donation please state that your donation should support the Richard St. Barbe Baker Afforestation Area, or the George Genereux Urban Regional Park, or both afforestation areas located in the Blairmore Sector. Please and thank you!  Your donation is greatly appreciated.

1./ Learn.

2./ Experience

3./ Do Something: ***

  “St. Barbe’s unique capacity to pass on his enthusiasm to others. . . Many foresters all over the world found their vocations as a result of hearing ‘The Man of the Trees’ speak. I certainly did, but his impact has been much wider than that. Through his global lecture tours, St. Barbe has made millions of people aware of the importance of trees and forests to our planet.” Allan Grainger

“The science of forestry arose from the recognition of a universal need. It embodies the spirit of service to mankind in attempting to provide a means of supplying forever a necessity of life and, in addition, ministering to man’s aesthetic tastes and recreational interests. Besides, the spiritual side of human nature needs the refreshing inspiration which comes from trees and woodlands. If a nation saves its trees, the trees will save the nation. And nations as well as tribes may be brought together in this great movement, based on the ideal of beautifying the world by the cultivation of one of God’s loveliest creatures – the tree.” ~ Richard St. Barbe Baker.

  Let TAWAMHWE-pull together-be our motto and I pray that we may give our active support to all efforts of desert reclamation by tree planting and I pray that I may be just to the Earth below my feet, to my neighbour by my side and to the light which comes from above and within, and this wonderful world of ours may be a little more beautiful and happy for

  Healing with trees? World Healing Day This World Healing Day, April 29, try Shinrin-yoku Forest Bathing, it is an amazing health activity.