#its shield has an eclipse painted on it too

[trippygalaxy]

Hello hello! I just read your MoonGod!FD×SunDeity! I couldn't help myself so sorry for sliding and nerding in;;

The funfact I love the most is thag moon shines thanks to the light it gets from the sun. It makes me think of the quote how the light it gets reflects the love of the Sun

Unlike the Moon, the Sun gave more importance to their duty. When they met the Moon who've shown his admiration for them, the Sun's feeling never changed but it gave more consideration.

Despite his hair, his moonlight, that shone has been cut away, the Sun now did their duty with the Moon in their mind so may the human he admired may still find hope and their way in the darkest of night.

Speaking of humanity, the moon covers a little nowadays but the (ancient) moon acted as a second shield to the Earth's atmosphere. One of the reason of craters, which are created by the impact of asteroids and meteor.

FD was chosen to fight humans but what if it's also to protect other humans? But he is not who he originally supposed to be. What they've done to him was worse than torture... And with no one to guard the moon, it lost its former form and now can barely protect the Earth.

I love the story about the solar eclipse. Sun's grieving is so intense... If the Sun makes you go blind, then the Moon cries for them too.

Moon and ocean are often depicted as lovers because how the ocean is affected by the moon... but imagine if those were the silent cries of the Fierce Diety.

He can barely remember but the sentiments remains. The moon, part of him, his home, now unreachable. His once blue eyes thrown away to the ocean turned into the cries of ceaseless wave and his voice became the roaring wind because the sky clouded his beloved Sun.

Cyclones are an attempt of the Fierce Deity going back to his beloved.

But when there sun shines on the sea, it's calm like singing a song and reflects its lights sparkling on the water's surface like once did and forever will in the Deity's eyes.

Even if he can't see his beloved Sun again, he can still feel their warmth endlessly embracing him.

Okay, this turned rather fluffy... I don't mind if you put dosage sprinkles of angst in it.

I LITERALLY LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE THIS AND YOU AND I NOW OWE MY LIFE TO YOU AND YOUR BEAUTIFUL BRAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO NOT BE SORRY!!! I WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS INTO MY INBOX ANYTIME!!!!!!!!

Now, if you wish for me to grab this gift and sprinkle drown it in angst? I might be able to do that for you :3

The deity, once so joyful and calm, now is nothing more than a vengeful husk of the god he once was. He was once a protector, the shield against the emptiness of the void, the one who guided those with his light when they were shrouded in darkness, their man-made flickers into nothing but ambers. But now? Now, he painted the land he longed to walk upon red with the blood of the mortals he once protected. Now, he brings death and war with every swing of his intertwined blade.

He walked in the dull moon light, his skin prickling with bitter anger as he bathed his blood soaked form in the light.

No god had felt this much blood under their nails. No god had ever dared to harm and torture the mortals like he had. No god had ever...Avoided the sun's gaze as much as he had.

Others thought he found comfort in the night. Others found it ironic he only attacked under the gaze of his now battered and broken celestial body that hangs in the skin. Other simply thought it was a strategic war plan. But not one thought of how the deity shivered at the thought of acts he'd dared to commit under his lover's rays of light.

No matter how far his mind goes, no matter the lack of memories or emotions he looses over the years, he refuses to plan attacks under the sun's watchful eye. For he wouldn't dare slaughter the mortals the sun loved so dearly. He wouldn't dare become a monster to his Sun like he had to his mortals.

@link-or-sherlock HERES THAT ASK I WAS SCREAMING ABOUT!! /POS

[true-blue-sonic]

Silver's Powers not being unique to him kinda makes sense because Silver doesn't think of himself as special and is canonically considered a loser at this point.

I personally would say it's mostly the IDW comics that wildly oscillate between the amount of respect they give Silver. They give me the feeling that they simply just can't make up their mind on who or what they want Silver to be, which I would say is because the end goal of the plot is entirely driving the bus here, not the characters and their actions. So that means in the comics, Silver is either a bumbling idiot who needs to be hand-held by the more powerful smarter OCs while nearly getting wiped out by one random Egg Pawn in a flashback, or someone hella OP and serious whose powers while Super can clear an entire planet of a virus that changes its victims on a molecular level. And I think Silver has absolutely amazing moments in IDW! I love the issue where he and Sonic take the six Chaos Emeralds and make a mad dash for Zavok to get the seventh one, where Silver is a crucial component and shown off as his powerful self. And also during his fight with Zor he's no-nonsense, clear about what he stands for, and even shown as unforgiving to an extent. That is definitely why I find it so unfortunate that these moments are counteracted by Silver either being innocent uwu bapy boi, or just being written as incompetent because that's what the plot needs him to be to get to what it wants to achieve.

But that is just the comics. Forces painted Silver a lot more respectably in my opinion (e.g. shown as being capable of making a stand against Infinite, who's been callously murdering people in the streets beforehand with nothing they could do to fight back having the slightest effect), and TSR did too if you ignore the trash talk scene (e.g. Silver being the first to learn of Eggman and Dodon Pa's plans, and keeping an eye on things with help from his friends). Furthermore, the Sonic Channel stories and information about Silver give a much more respectable view of the character, that leans far more towards his positive sides: his straightforwardness, kindness, desire for justice, willingness for peace, reliability, the fact people feel endeared to him, etc etc. Simultaneously, they are not afraid to mention that Silver can take things too far, and can be put on the wrong track at times. Generally, those stories thus paint him as someone serious and incredibly strong (e.g. able to stop the Eclipse Canon beam with a shield of PK) while still being naive and having slight tunnel vision (e.g. not understanding why he was not taken seriously when he told the Soleannan officials about the bridge collapsing, which he knew because he came from the future). It's... better than what the comic is giving us, in my personal opinion; it's at least more enjoyable if you like Silver's personality from the actual games. So I do not at all agree with the idea he's "canonically a loser" currently. It just depends on what media you look into, and how that media treats the character in regards to what Silver's actual personality is like.

[reversemoon255]

MVF-X08 Eclipse Gundam

This is only my fifth Master Grade, and it was definitely a design worth giving the MG treatment. The other MGs I’ve built all have or feel like they could be High Grades, but the Eclipse is a design that doesn’t feel possible as an HG or possibly even an RG. The MA Mode transformation it so complicated that I can’t imagine how they’d pull it off at a smaller size without omitting it entirely. But how does it stack up as a model kit?

The Good: This was a very complex build, with a lot of intricate moving parts in areas you wouldn’t expect, like the shoulders or lower legs. It might have been a little too complex at a few moments, but it was a large kit that felt worthy of its price tag, which I feel not every big kit does.

Because of the sheer amount of moving parts, posability is a little strange, but it still has a wide range. Its accessory pool is small, but very cool, with its shield generator effect parts, and beam rifles that store its beam sabers inside them.

Lastly, the transformation is crazy. The amount of moving parts throughout this kit just to get this high-speed flight mode perfect is ridiculous.

The Bad: But that complexity is just as frustrating as it is impressive. You have to compress the forelegs, but it took me several minutes to get that single motion to work, and the amount of small movements in places like the shoulders or waist to get things at just the right angle, slightly off where it was originally, is very confusing. The MA Mode, while a nice inclusion, is not a selling point, and I will likely never transform it again unless I get another MG with and MA Mode to compare.

The Details: As Master Grades already have good color separation, there wasn’t really any need to do anything besides panel lining. I think I painted the eyes green? But even looking at the kit on the shelf behind me, I can’t tell.

Overall, it’s a very fun kit to build, with its main issue being the complexity of the MA Mode, and how some of that engineering affects the base design. Even with that, I still say it’s worth its price, but I don’t think I’ll be getting Reactor 2. I might grab a backpack, though, if I can easily find one.

[katslowerthanaveragepoetry]

An ode to beauty

Life is just tears and blood, rainbows and tentacles A romantic dance, danced alone, and in shackles A dark mist, encroaching my heart, clawing my skin A mind where no thought would ever hunt as a kin A rain of numbers, wrapping me like a duvet A temple where not even the doomed come to pray A stranger in the mirror, face hunting my hopes A cutthroat circus, with not a hole in the hoops A few candles that burn away my retinas A legend so fabled, taught through countless millenias Familiar, warm notes ring away in my soul A perfect mechanic, where no cog plays its role Shards of realities swept up by violent winds A barren love story where everyone’s a seed The moonlight shines upon a solitary crown And endless seas of stressful tasks in which I drown A compliment, like the dulling edge of a blade An ever shining spotlight, on an endless stage A flower, trying to grow through apocalypse Desperate for light and soil, in a dry eclipse It’ll bloom, like all else has, just late to the garden For little flower was always laced with burden A sweet melody that shields from your own feelings A sickness so old it won’t bother with greetings A crying soul withering in a young body A voiceless, faceless, loveless lady

Futures and pasts, bounds by yet unbroken chains Smiles slowly fading away in the pouring rains Dawn and dusk, whispering in the blushing moonlight Weak like strong both willing to just give up the fight “Why couldn't we simply twirl into oblivion ?” I’ve stabbed hope in the face, i’ve kissed my depression I dance with nightmares, I chase away my dreams And I’ve accepted to let myself flow downstream I dream of withering bodies, i fear waking I listen to dying, forgotten worlds to sleep With hopes never again to bother the morning Yet I’m always fond of morning sun as I sip I’ve loved enough for my heart to cuddle a sun And I’ve stolen away withering dimensions My joy taken by a breeze, my youth a tsunami As my soul burns away in my growing body My joys and my pains dance, steady as a tick tock My suns and my rains, strictly ruled by a mean clock The ice turns to water, loving turns to bitter And no one would look up as my sky is on fire From the push of a button, the click of a mouse A rush of endorphins to wash away my doubts The body of a teen, the mind of a young girl With a pain far, far too great for both to handle If the skies would turn red, you would soon forget blues I’ve been sad this whole poem, but here's some good news Let’s say that if my my skies lost all their color,

It was so I could paint them however I’d prefer :)

[thegeneralguy]

The Champion of Olympus - Ares’s Arrogance

By thegeneralguy

Revised by @amalianetwork​

The chariot of the sun was finishing its daily round over Mount Olympus, leaving a crimson trail in its path. The beautiful sky was painted red, the golden rooftops of the monumental temples and lavish palaces reflecting the majestic sunset´s light. In the inner circle of heaven, the faint sound of metal clashes resonated through the cloudy hills, where all the Olympian´s residences stood proudly watching over the vast extent of the celestial realm. The furious battle cries were coming from the dominion of the god of war. The magnificent mansion stood out of the rest of the buildings due to the dark marble composing its solemn columns, along with a vibrant bronze rooftop that illuminated the surroundings in a permanent hue of carmine.

The aggressive cacophony was coming from the inner courtyard, which occupied the biggest part of the palace. Ares was in the middle of a fierce battle against two other gods, wielding his giant golden spear to strike them with fury over and over again. His extremely muscular body did not impede his battle prowess, as he gracefully danced with the spear as an extension of his limbs. Both lesser gods brandished two identical golden swords, masterfully avoiding and countering the bigger deity's attacks. With the might of his enormous arm, the god of war planted his weapon on the ground propelling himself into a somersault and successfully jumping over the two surprised beings. Suspended on the air he then knocked down both his foes with a fast sweep of his powerful leg, landing gracefully on top of them.

"Again."

He said in a gruff bass voice, his fiery crimson eyes glaring down at the two defeated gods struggling to get back on their feet. Just as they were getting ready to clash weapons again, a bright pink flash replaced the bloody red atmosphere for an instant, leaving behind the most beautiful woman in existence. Ares put down his spear and walked towards his past lover, Aphrodite. She stared seductively at her forbidden object for desire. After all the eons resisting the urge to touch again, the mighty god of war still looked as imposing as the first time they fell for each other. His white robe was perched over one shoulder, exposing one half of his titanic chest. The enormous arms he once used to crack the skulls of his enemies rippled with power, thick veins pumping the holy ichor inside of them. His legs looked stronger than the dark marble columns supporting the palace. Many mementos from his previous battles decorated his bronze skin in the form of many little marks left by the few weapons that were able to harm him.

His brutish face was half concealed by a dense black beard and had a big scar that ran across from his hanging brow, through his eye, and got lost in the hair on his square chin. His intimidating appearance was only accentuated by his bald head, along with the piercing red eyes that flared with the rage of a thousand wars underneath. He approached the goddess, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close, only to be pushed back by her slender arm.

"You know how he gets when he knows we're together, Ares."

The beautiful deity could barely hold her urge to make love with the masculine god in front of her, but the fear was greater than any other primal instinct she could feel. Ares grunted annoyed, and let the woman out of his embrace.

"I could take on him you know, and you would be finally free. Free to be with me for the rest of eternity."

Aphrodite looked at her former lover with a deep-rooted sadness behind her dark pink eyes and raised her elegant hand to caress the god's rough cheek. Ares took her hand delicately, like a gorilla grabbing the most delicate of a rose's petals, and planted a kiss full of passion and nostalgia of an immemorial time, when they were together, on her palm. They both stood still for a moment, and then Aphrodite removed her hand from his grip and took a step back.

"You know that can't be. Even though you're the god of war and combat, you're still no match for Hephaestus's might. Remember what happened last time."

Ares's winced for a moment, his melancholic visage quickly returning to its natural angry sneer. Of course, he remembered the humiliation his brother put his own wife and him through, exposing their affair to the rest of the gods. The animosity both of his parents felt for him only increased, making the god even more of an outcast than he already was. Only his desire for the goddess of beauty was stronger than his undying loyalty for his father, trying desperately to gain his favor in every conflict. But all his attempts failed miserably, especially when his sister Athena was involved. Zeus, although prideful and violent, was a brilliant strategist and he always sided with his wiser and more intelligent daughter, often leaving the god of war hurt in his pride. He looked back at Aphrodite reproachingly, wondering what the goddess's visit truly meant.

"What are you looking for Aphrodite? If you know Hephaestus doesn't like to see you with me, what is it that brings you to interrupt my training?"

"I know how these situations tend to put you under too much pressure. I just wanted to ask what you were planning to do concerning the trial of the Champion."

"It's been a long time since father has put a challenge on all of us. This might be my opportunity to prove once and for all that I'm the one he should be turning to in troubling times, not Athena."

The god of war was a force to be reckoned with. His prowess in battle was matched by no one in Mount Olympus, and his sheer force was only rivaled by few other deities. But although he was a fearsome opponent for whoever dared in challenging him, he had one fatal flaw: his arrogance. His thirst for blood and violence, when combined with his superiority complex, bred poor choices in and out of battle, often resulting in the mighty god being ridiculed. All the emotions from defeat were only magnified by his enormous ego, creating a bitter outcast who was often ignored by the rest of his fellow deities. Aphrodite knew that deep inside that glorious body and arrogant demeanor was a deep sadness product of rejection from his own family.

"I know how you feel Ares, but I would advise you not to waste too much energy in this affair. You know how Zeus can be when it comes to a world-ending crisis. I don't want you to get more hurt…"

She then took a step forward to put her hand on his gargantuan chest. Ares quickly turned his back towards Aphrodite, unable to keep the emotions from projecting on his face.

"What do you, the goddess of beauty, know about rejection? Father is completely blind to my superior power, and it's my duty to show him he has the most mighty ally for whatever challenge he might face. I have to eclipse the other competitors to take my rightful place on his side. Especially Athena."

The rivalry between the god of war and the goddess of wisdom was not unheard of in Mount Olympus. Even the epic tales from the terrestrial plane depicted the many victories Athena had against Ares. The big scar on the god's face was an eternal reminder of the goddess's superior abilities, often fueling the god's rage in battle every time he caught a glimpse of it in the reflection of a shield. Aphrodite wasn't very keen on Athena either, often clashing with her because of their separate views on vices and virtues, but it was nothing compared to the strong hatred Ares felt for her. The goddess of beauty then took a few steps forward to stand next to the strong deity.

"I guess there is no point in trying to stop you. I would advise you to be careful though. I don't know if you noticed, but Zeus's demeanor seemed very strange during the reunion. You'd be deceiving yourself if you didn't think the ascension of a new champion is not something out of the ordinary."

The god of war stood quiet for some time, reflecting on Aphrodite's words. It was true that the ritual of ascension was a holy ceremony, reserved for heroic acts of celebration instead of an emergency of this type. The last time he tried to gift a mortal with the divine essence, he watched helplessly as his devotee was consumed by its power, obliterating him. He couldn't even remember when was the last time the ritual was successful. But all these concerns were of little meaning for Ares. Before he stood a perfect opportunity to demonstrate his power and to show his abnegation for his father.

"I already made up my mind, Aphrodite. I will personally descend to the Earth and create the best Champion there is. No one will be able to stand against him, for he will be forged by my superior power."

Aphrodite let out a frustrated sigh, knowing her attempts of dissuading the god from taking part in this ridiculous plan were pointless. This whole plot seemed very suspicious for her, but she couldn't exactly point out what was going on. If Ares wasn't going to help her find out, she'll have to resort to other more extreme means. She then looked at the two godlings standing firmly waiting for Ares's command. Both looked practically identical, standing tall and strong like their father, but their handsome faces devoid of their progenitor's magnificent beard. They also had heads full of thick dark brown curls, encasing their more youthful faces. Their muscular bodies were also covered by numerous scars, mostly done by their father's spear.

"Look at my poor children. What have you done to them, Ares?"

Phobos and Deimos were the twin children of beauty and war, born out of human's innermost primal instinct: fear. Both godlings owed an undying loyalty to their father, often accompanying him in each of his affairs. Ares walked towards them, inspecting every inch of his two soldiers, who stood there firmly in silence awaiting their father's command.

"I made them into what they're right now. Two war weapons capable of sowing despair out of mortal hearts. And it seems I'll make use of their service once again. I'm going to make use of a couple of tricks you've shown me."

"If you already made your decision, it is useless to remain here and try to convince you otherwise. Just a word of advice Ares, don't let your pride be your downfall once again."

The goddess disappeared then with a flash, leaving Ares and the two godlings alone once again. The god of war then pondered on the goddess's words, wondering if he should change his mind and challenge his father, like many members of his family were going to. He remembered an ancient saying from another mortal cult: pride goes before the fall. But he quickly dismissed any doubt circling his mind. An opportunity to gain Zeus's grace wasn't going to present itself that easily again. It was his chance to demonstrate his superior existence, and take Athena's place right next to their father. His rugged face was drawn with a sinister smile. He was going to reap a human from his sister's flock, proving once and for all who the most powerful warrior of Olympus was.

It was an unusually agitated day for Athens High. The days before summer vacation were always received with enthusiasm by the students, and relief by the faculty members. Colorful school banners announcing the graduation ceremony for the seniors decorated the hallways, proudly signifying another school year's death. Every student was filled to the brim of school spirit, enthusiastically signing yearbooks, taking pictures, and joking with their soon to be former teachers. All except one. Leon Machiavelli sat quietly at his desk, tapping his feet nervously while he waited for the ultimate call for freedom that was the ringing of the bell on the last school day.

High school could be harsh for someone like Leon. The 19-year-old always felt like a fish out of water when it came to socializing with his classmates, most of his time spent on furthering his knowledge and improving his chances of getting into an Ivy League college, finally ridding himself of the shackles that an upbringing in a small rural town in the middle of nowhere could bring. The few friendships he managed to make over the course of his years through school were few and far too insignificant to regret his choice in moving to the other side of the country and never hearing from them again. Not to mention his troubled relationship with his parents, who were concerned by their son's more hermit nature. His family had been living in that town for a few generations, owning some small businesses in the surrounding area and establishing itself as one of the most aristocratic families in the county.

The swan song of the school year chimed in the form of the bell's ring, causing excited screams and cheers from all students. Notebooks were propelled into the air, paper falling everywhere painting the floor with white. Girls exchanged teary hugs, immortalizing their last moments in the classroom with their smartphones and guys hollered and smashed against each other in fraternal hugs. Leon swiftly picked up his backpack and made a beeline towards the exit, already feeling claustrophobic in the middle of the chaos. He made his way through the sea of students, already feeling the scorching hot summer air blowing at his face. When he was just a step away from freedom, he felt a meaty hand on his shoulder pulling him back inside. He turned around with an exasperated look on his face, only to find out the hand belonged to Kevin Volker, the varsity football captain.

"Leon, bro, what's up? I haven't seen you all day."

The relationship between the hunky jock and the hermit bookworm was, to say the least, complicated. Both boys practically grew up together, their families living next to each other and going to the same school from kindergarten all through to high school. Childish wonder pushed them to form a very good friendship in their first years of development. Family barbeques, playdates, camping trips, both boys had all the necessary qualities to become the best of friends. The fact that their parents were also friends and business partners was also a good advantage for them to keep interacting almost like brothers. All their years of primary school were spent joyfully carefree, with both boys enjoying the wonder of practically living together and embarking on whichever childish adventure they wanted.

But things got different once Kevin's biological clock sent him spiraling into puberty. The gorgeous blonde boy became an athletic teenager, and his energetic nature combined with his newly acquired physical prowess turned him into a social sensation in school. The allure of the childish fantasies he used to share with his best friend was slowly replaced by the enjoyment a real-life circle of friends could bring. Kevin naturally went up the ladder of the monstrous social scale that was high school. The sports teams didn't waste any time in hunting him down, but it was the school's most prided one that caught him in the end: the football team. After just four years the cute teen had developed into a strapping young man, with an all-American jock face and a body to die for.

Watching his best friend turn into the king of school wasn't easy for Leon. The slow abandonment combined with his frustrations over his very delayed development slowly bittered him. Instead of growing up big and strong like Kevin, Leon just gained a few inches in height, but a lot of pounds in weight. He resented his friend for getting the attention of their peers and leaving him alone to fuel their fantasy world on his own. He resented his friend for gaining the grace of other students, and soon cut all ties to him. The chubby red-head grew up alone in the darkness of his bedroom, while the blonde stud dwelled in the sunlight. His natural curiosity pushed him into pursuing knowledge, far prioritizing the cultivation of the mind instead of the body. His academic achievements mixed in with his hidden frustrations bred an arrogance delusion. Leon convinced himself that he was too good for other people, shielding himself from the pain of rejection. Completely dismissing any attempt of remaining active took a toll on his body, turning the chubby teen into an overweight young man with a disheveled appearance. Every time he saw Kevin, he remembered their lost childhood and caught a glimpse of his true reality. The muscular jock served as a window of truth in Leon's arrogant delusion: his loneliness was a product of his own doing.

"I was just busy getting my things ready for tomorrow's speech. Can I help you with anything?"

He bitterly stared into the jock's blue eyes and saw exactly the look that he hated. Even though Kevin grew dismissive towards him, he never once participated in the occasional bullying red-head suffered, often offering to help out with whatever he needed. His usual cocky gaze hid a deep-set sympathy for the lonely nerd, and Leon hated that. He didn't need the sympathy of someone he considered inferior.

"No, it's all good thanks. I'm going to drive home first to pick up my gym bag, and I wanted to offer you a ride. It's too fucking hot out there, man,” said Kevin with a burst of awkward laughter. His deep voice vibrated on his chest, which twitched playfully from time to time. Leon scanned his former friend with a resentful gaze. The heavily muscled jock was encased in the trendiest designer clothes, his bulging arms threatening to rip his polo's sleeves apart, and the tree trunks he had for legs wrapped in skin-tight chinos, showcasing the deep definition within the heavy muscles. He tried his best not to stare too much into the body and kept his apathetic frown fixed on his piercing blue eyes.

"Thank you, but I'm gonna take the bus. There's some stuff in town I need to sort out first."

"That's ok, guess I'll see you tomorrow in the graduation ceremony then,” said Kevin with a subdued sigh. Leon turned around without saying anything and headed outside towards the searing sunlight. Even though he kept a straight face during the exchange with his former friend, his fists were clenched due to the anger he felt. Even after all those years, Leon's heart still skipped a beat every time the jock was nearby. No matter how much he tried to deceive himself into thinking he was the superior of the two, he couldn't get rid of the feelings he had for his former friend.

"Congratulations on the valedictorian thing by the way!"

He managed to scream before Leon was outside the door. The chubby red-head barely turned around, and with a weak thanks, he was lost in the blinding light.

The little town's main street was buzzing with activity on the hot summer afternoon. Families paraded themselves on the sidewalk, eating ice cream and letting the kids play on the numerous water fountains around the place. Little restaurants and boutiques decorated the sides of the street, offering a colorful option of both local and imported goods to the town's small population. The Machiavelli family owned many of those businesses and almost every convenience store in town. Leon was heading to the family's favored tailor to meet his mother to get his outfit for the graduation ready. After all, the son of one of the town's most important families couldn't show up in his usual disheveled state to his high school graduation. Leon always thought things like fashion and social status were frivolities, intellectually inferior people used to feel better about themselves, so he gave little importance to them. Even now on the threshold of the rest of his life, he could care less about how he looked, but his mother insisted so much that he gave in to her requests to keep her from nagging him any longer.

The little bell on top of the door chimed in when he entered the door, attracting the attention of his mother, who was enthusiastically discussing ties and bows with the tailor.

"Honey, you made it! Step in front of the mirror please, Mr. Schneider will take your final measurements."

No one would think the chubby teenager was related to the elegant woman standing next to the counter. She looked flawless despite her age and dressed impeccably no matter if she was at a charity ball or going to the supermarket. The only trait that tied both of them to each other was their fiery red hair, which she kept in a perfect updo fully solidifying her upper-class status. Without saying a word, Leon stepped up to the little platform surrounded by three body-sized mirrors. The tailor approached him, fully armed with his measuring tape and a set of pins to hold the seams and folds in place.

"What do you think of this tie honey? I think the green would highlight your…"

The excited chatter of his mother soon faded away, as Leon focused more and more on his reflection of the three pieced mirrors. It looked like puberty forgot about him in the middle of the way. He never really grew that much in height, topping at a shorter 5'5. The prominent curve of his stomach was visible through the simple black t-shirt he was wearing, deforming The legend of Zelda's Triforce symbol together with his sagging chest. His stubby arms laid powerless on his sides, and his chubby legs were hidden under a pair of oversized jeans. His pale freckled face was covered by pimples, accentuating his unclean appearance, and it still sported the signs of infancy he never outgrew, with chubby cheeks and a small nose. The most prominent feature on him was his bright green eyes, courtesy of his mother's Irish heritage, along with his unkempt red curls. He had convinced himself long ago that an unkept body was not a problem as long as the mind flourished, so he gave up on any attempt in bettering his appearance. Dwelling in his thoughts he didn't realize the tailor was done measuring and was discussing the suit's finishing touches with his mother, who didn't wait for her son's approval on the rest of the accessories.

"Is that all mom?"

He asked a bit annoyed whilst grabbing his belongings and heading to the door.

"Yes honey, I'll arrange the rest with Mr. Schneider. You will look so handsome tomorrow. I'll see you at home later."

She answered without even looking at him. Leon sighed and headed outside, not wanting to spend another second thinking in tomorrow's ceremony, and made his way towards his house.

The Machiavelli family's estate consisted of a big two-story house, a big garden with a swimming pool, and a small guest house. There was no doubt that it belonged to very affluent people. The mansion's pearl white walls reflected the afternoon sunlight, almost giving it an incandescent glow. Leon entered through the massive oak doors and headed straight for his room. On his way there he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the massive family portrait in the house's foyer. A younger Leon smiled faintly back at him; his chubby body encased in a black suit just like his father. The elegant man looked imposing with his strong physique and masculine features. The only common thing Leon and his father had was their last name because no one would say the pale red-head was related to the mature Italian stud that was his father. His mom looked perfect as usual, leaving Leon sticking out like a sore thumb between his two impressive progenitors. He tried his best to ignore the picture like he always did and enclosed himself in his private sanctuary.

His room was decorated with posters of antique temples, beautiful palaces, and imposing sculptures. Leon's love for fantasy had slowly driven him into researching the origin of human imagination itself, and therefore human's creative history. His ultimate goal was to become erudite of anthropology, teaching and researching in the most lauded institutions on the field and finally gaining the recognition of better people than the small-town folk he loved to look down upon. He sat down on his desk to revise his prepared speech for the graduation ceremony one last time. Despite his parent's best effort to dissuade him, Leon was willing to perform a bitter soliloquy expressing his frustrations against his classmates and solidifying his status as the class' arrogant intellectual. Beneath the snarky remarks and morality lectures written on paper, laid a profound pain product of his loneliness. His train of thought slowly brought the image of Kevin into his head again. Leon was going to finally be free of watching him blossom more and more every day. But even if he moved across the country, he was still unsure he would ever be able to forget the handsome jock. After all, despite the endless hours he spent convincing himself Kevin abandoned him out of malice, he was the only person Leon ever loved.

The chubby red-head barely gave any thought to his sexuality. He considered any kind of lust as a distraction, a primal burden that impeded the full growth of the human psyche. Unlike practically all of his classmates, he wore his virginity as a badge of honor, his mind completely clean of the stain of sex. But despite trying his best to suppress his natural urges, the thought of Kevin always came through inside his head. The connection they shared when they were children still transcended the barriers Leon tried to put up to elevate himself. And the fact that the handsome jock looked like a classical Greek sculpture come to life didn't help the lascivious thoughts leave the nerd's mind. Leon tried to hate Kevin as much as he could because if he didn't, he would become the ultimate shackles preventing him from breaking free from his small-town life once and for all. The last golden rays of sunset light came into the room through the big windows, illuminating the red-head's face. His gaze was glued to the sheet of paper in front of him. This speech was an ode to intellectual growth, and a farewell to the life Leon chose to leave behind. He went into bed exhausted, nervous about the events coming up the next day. It was going to be the last time Leon Machiavelli graced his classmates with his thoughts. Afterward, the only way they could catch a glimpse of his brilliant mind was either buying his future publications or listening to his TED talks.

It was past midnight when Leon was woken up by a shiver down his spine. The pale moonlight illuminated his bedroom, casting out gruesome shadows out of every corner. The nerd had the feeling something was staring at him from the darkness. The entire room was scorching hot, despite the cold night air flowing through an open window. A low animal growl attracted Leon's attention towards the darkest corner in the bedroom. His face went pale with fear when he discovered the two big glowing red eyes staring at him maliciously. A black figure slowly crept out of the shadows, making itself visible thanks to the white moonlight. Leon stared speechless at the giant black dog growling at him menacingly from the other side of the room. His big snout was curled up into an angry snarl, making the dagger sized fangs visible. The terrified nerd was petrified in his bed, unable to muster the minimal courage to even scream for help. Without taking his eyes off of him, the black dog spoke with a deep man's voice.

"When the time comes, follow me. I will give you what you want"

And as soon as it appeared, it melted into the shadows, leaving the red-head alone to faint out of the fear he just experienced.

  The golden rays of sunlight in the late morning woke Leon up, who groggily rubbed his eyes and got up. Despite sleeping through the night, he felt exhausted. He was unsure if what he saw in the darkness had been real or just a product of the stress before graduation. He looked at the clock on his nightstand, only to realize he had slept through his alarm and was already running late.

"Damn it"

He yelled exasperated as he jumped out of bed to get ready for his ceremony. He splashed some water face and combed his red curls a little bit just to hide the mark the pillow had left on his head. One of the maids brought up the finished suit his mother had bought the previous day. It was a beautiful dark grey suit, Italian cut, with an emerald green tie and a handkerchief to match. He quickly put it on, feeling it snug against his body. Despite the suit being tailored to his exact fit, the outward curve of his prominent stomach was still visible, putting a slight strain on the buttons. The emerald green tie did highlight his eyes, just like his mother told him before buying it. He took the cards for his upcoming speech and made sure he had everything ready for the ceremony. On his way out, he looked at his reflection on the big mirror in the hallway. Even after neglecting his appearance today, the beauty of the suit made him look almost distinguished. He felt strong, ready to sever his ties to this town and his past. It was going to be a memorable day, marking the beginning of his new life.

He arrived at the ground floor of the mansion, only to find it empty. A small note was laying on top of the little table next to the entrance.

"Your father and I went to the club for a quick workout. We'll see you later at school. Tell Charlie to drive you there if you don't want to take one of the cars."

He crushed the little note on his hands, feeling a pang of pain due to his parents' absence. It wasn't unusual for his mother to delegate accompanying him to the chauffeur, but Leon thought the day of his high school graduation was going to be different. He quickly dismissed any sorrow from his head, replacing it with a fiery determination. His speech today was also inspired by his aloof parents, who barely gave their only son a second thought. He looked at the big family portrait one last time. With this suit, he might have looked a bit like he belonged, but he knew the truth. His destiny was far away from this little town, which was below his expectations.

The school was buzzing with activity, with teachers running everywhere getting every last detail prepared, and students getting their graduation robes ready for the ceremony. Colorful banners decorated the main courtyard, where a scenario with a podium and a line of seats was built. The many rows of chairs in front of it were already filling themselves up with enthusiastic families, readying their cameras for their children's special moments. Leon scoffed at the scene, thinking how sad it was that this was going to be the only highlight in their offspring's life. He picked up his robe and valedictorian sash and headed towards his seat. In the distance, he saw Kevin arrive with both of his parents. The gorgeous stud was impeccably dressed in a beautiful sapphire blue suit. Every muscle was perfectly framed and enveloped in the expensive fabric, accentuating the dramatic angles his body formed. His dirty blond hair was perfectly styled in his usual messy style, and his white smile beamed stronger than the sun itself. Leon couldn't take his eyes off from his former friend, making an inhumane effort to remain focused on his goal. This day was going to be about him for the first time, not about Kevin.

The ceremony began after all the attendants took their seats, with the principal opening the day with a generic speech about school spirit and class fraternity. Leon fiddled with his cards nervously, the pressure of his big moment slowly starting to overcome him. He couldn't help but ask himself if he was willing to pull through it. After all, his classmates were still people deserving of respect, even if he considered them intellectually inferior. But then the memory of Kevin laughing with all of them, sharing the fabled fraternal bond the principal was talking about, and excluding Leon from their circle solidified his decision. The words he was going to say could be harsh, but it was something he felt entitled to share.

"And now, please welcome the Athens High class of 2019 valedictorian, Leon Machiavelli."

The sound of the applause woke Leon up from his daze, as he stood up and made his way to the podium. All the eyes in the audience were for the first time focused on him. The scorching sunlight made him feel a little light-headed, his hair matted with sweat, and his body sticking uncomfortably to his suit. He looked at the seats below him, squinting his eyes due to the sun's intense shine. All of the chairs were occupied, except two, very close to the front rows. Leon let out a sorrowful sigh, the last ember of hope of sharing this moment with his parents dying. He put his cards down, took a big breath, and started speaking.

"My fellow students of Athens High. The promised day is finally upon us, the day when we will finally take flight and begin the rest of our lives. Most of you don't even know who I am, but after today you will never forget my name. When I was writing this speech, I couldn't help but notice a few ironic facts that I would like to share with you. It is fitting that our school mascot is an owl because that is how I've felt all these years. I've dedicated countless hours to quietly observing your behavior, your desires, and every intricate social structure in our school, and I can't help but feel immense gratitude. Thanks to all of you, I've blossomed into the epitome of human intelligence and wisdom that I am today. And let me tell you why. After a long analysis, I've come up with the conclusion that my greatest fear is becoming as simple as one of you…."

Something beyond the sun's glare caught his attention. At first, he thought it might be a mirage caused by the burning heat, but the more he focused on it, the clearer it became. A shadow beneath a far tree looked eerily familiar. Leon's hands started to tremble in fear, as he recognized the black dog from last night staring at him from the distance, its glowing red eyes visible through the blinding sunlight. His entire speech suddenly vanished from his mind, together with the fleeting empowerment he was feeling moments ago. He fumbled nervously with the cards, only to drop them by accident.

"You….uh…..I…"

The echoes of his nervous words coming from the speakers resonated through the courtyard. Curious eyes focused on Leon, who quickly turned into a sweaty mess. He looked at Kevin in the front row, who had a worried look on his face. He felt a shame he had never felt before. Being humiliated in front of half the town was the last thing Leon wanted. He searched for the dog again, only for it to vanish without a trace. He looked at the public in defeat and managed to scavenge some last words to minimize the embarrassment.

"I want to thank you all for coming. Enjoy the rest of the ceremony."

With those last words, Leon left the podium and sank into his seat, wishing for the earth to swallow him. The principal took the microphone again and followed through with the protocol.

"Thank you, Leon, for those, uh, inspiring words. And now, we will present the students with their diplomas."

Leon sat in his place quietly, staring at the green grass. In his mind, the only thing that was present was the horrible feeling of embarrassment. Everything he had planned; all the preparation and previous excitement had been for nothing. The muffled sound of pomp and circumstance blasting out of the speakers was all he could hear, as the principal went through the line of students calling each of them to the podium and shaking hands with them. One face still stood out from the rest: Kevin's. One thing was failing in front of his classmates, but failing in the presence of the person he wanted to impress the most made everything worse. Now Kevin would never find out how well-off Leon thought he was despite being abandoned by the handsome jock. Somewhere inside the cacophony governing the courtyard, he heard his name, and without taking his gaze off the ground he stood up and picked up his diploma. He gave the principal a weak handshake and quickly slid back into his chair. This moment was indeed immortalized in his mind, but not in the way he intended.

Once all students got their respective acknowledgments, the ceremony ended with Oxford caps decorating the sky accompanied by deafening applause. Families reunited in the whole courtyard, hugging and blasting pictures everywhere. Leon was still in his seat when he saw both his parents approaching him.

"Honey, sorry we're late. How was your speech,” asked his mother without any hint of remorse in her voice. Leon was used to being left behind by his family, but this time he felt actual pain. If his parents were there, the only people with whom he shared some kind of superficial connection, he wouldn't have felt so helpless in the aftermath of his speech debacle. He looked up at his parents with cold wrath in his eyes, tears starting to slowly well up inside them.

"I don't ask much of you. I don't mind when you hide me at your parties, or when you go on extravagant trips without me. I just asked for your presence for one day. One day."

His reproaches were met by the unchanging poised faces of his progenitors. His mother was the first one to speak.

"Honey, not here. People are looking,” She said with a simulated smile.

"I don't care about your deluded picture of perfection, mother. You ruined the last time we were going to connect as a family. And for what? A sauna bath in your pretentious club."

His father's petrified face showed a glimpse of anger. The Machiavelli patriarch had never been very fond of his only child, considering him a nuisance and a liability for their public image. Leon just didn't fit well as the heir of the family's fortune, completely lacking charisma and skill to lead. In his eyes, the only thing his son did was cower behind his infinite collection of books in his room.

"Quit whining, Leon. You should be thankful your mother and I made time to come and congratulate you. Now, let's take a picture. We will discuss this back at home."

Leon's last hope of acceptance from his family died as soon as the flash from the camera was gone, his young heart completely overtaken by the coldness of rejection. His aloof parents then proceeded to greet the rest of the attendants. The young nerd felt completely lost inside the crowd. All he wanted to do was to get back home, pack his bags and leave on the next bus out of town. While he was analyzing the best way to scurry out of there, a sapphire flash caught his attention. He then looked towards it, only to find out the colorful splash of light came from Kevin, who was heading into the school through a side entrance. At first, he didn't pay too much attention to it, but then he saw the black dog from earlier following the handsome jock. After some consideration, Leon managed to conjure the courage to follow Kevin into the building, worried about what that black creature could do to his former friend. He pushed the door and entered the school's auditorium, only to find it dark and empty. The light to the locker rooms was on, so he made his way through the big hall towards it.

"Kevin? Are you in here?"

His nervous voice echoed through the rows of metal lockers. The air in the room felt damp and heavy, the lingering musky smell of sweaty athletes permanently staining the atmosphere. Something else was mixed in the aromas, a metallic scent, like rusted metal. He hesitantly stepped further into the locker room, his only companion being the sound of his footsteps on the tiled floor. The cold lights flickered from time to time, giving the entire scene a very ominous appearance. He turned around the corner and finally found Kevin in front of the sinks. He was staring emptily into the mirror, completely unaware of Leon's presence. The young nerd was terrified but kept approaching the young jock.

"Hey Kevin, are you alright?"

He said as he put a sweaty hand on Kevin's shoulder. He was able to perceive a red flicker on the jock's icy blue eyes, and then Kevin reacted to his touch.

"Leon, what's up? You look scared bro, are you alright?"

He said casually beaming his celebrity smile towards Leon, who just stared completely puzzled at the handsome jock.

"I saw a black dog follow you into the auditorium. Have you seen it?"

"Black dog? Bro, I really think the heat has started to affect you. I just came inside to freshen up a bit, but I haven't seen any black dog."

"But I swear I saw it come inside, I was a bit concerned it would attack you or anything. That thing has been roaming around school premises since the ceremony. I saw it during my...."

He made a pause, remembering the events that had just taken place moments before during the ceremony. The rage product of his humiliation returned to him.

"During my speech. Never mind, I can't say I'm surprised you're unable to notice even the most obvious things."

Kevin's smile faded from his face, his gorgeous gaze gaining the depth that bothered Leon so much because it made him care for a person he had convinced himself was below him.

"Leon, bro, I know things haven't been okay between us for a while. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel bad or something. I was just going with the flow, I never intended to hurt you. But I can't keep myself away anymore. If today is about a cycle, then there is something I need to set straight between us."

Leon's cold gaze lightened up a bit, curious about what he was talking about. He had never seen Kevin this nervous before. The young jock stared at the floor and fiddled nervously with his hands. The words came out a bit forced out of his mouth like someone was making him recite a memorized confession.

"I need to tell you something, but not here. Come to my place tonight for the party. Everyone will be there."

"I don't know Kevin. Parties aren't really my cup of tea…."

The handsome jock put his strong hand on Leon's shoulder and gave him a mischievous smile that not even the nerd's toughest defenses could resist.

"I promise to make it worth your while."

Leon hesitated for a second, completely incredulous for what he was hearing. He had already decided not to go to the party, but the day was not going according to plan. He could feel his heart beating almost out of his chest, excited and intrigued for whatever the jock was going to tell him.

"Sure, I'll see you there."

An eerie spark lit up behind Kevin's blue eyes, but Leon was so dumbstruck he completely missed it.

"Sweet bro, I'll see you later then. Nice clothes by the way."

Kevin then pulled the smaller man up for a hug, smothering him with his strong body. Leon could feel the hardness of his muscles through the expensive blue fabric. The jock then made his way towards the exit, leaving Leon in a disoriented haze. For a moment he completely forgot about the gruesome black dog and his failed speech, all he could see in his mind was Kevin's gorgeous smile.

  The sun was already setting when Leon arrived at the Volker residence. Many groups of his fellow students were approaching the mansion through the extensive courtyard, already with some drinks on their hands. The young nerd hesitated, his social anxiety crippling him for a moment. He still despised the rest of his class and saw no point in trying to interact with them. If he was going to this party, it was for Kevin only. Maybe something good would come out of this terrible day after all. When he crossed through the house's massive portal, he was immediately assaulted by an explosion of light and sound completely overwhelming his senses. A sea of young adults covered the big parlor and the adjacent rooms, drinking and dancing like there was no tomorrow. The big chandelier hanging from the ceiling was adapted to flash beams of light of different colors in all directions, and a DJ booth was installed on the far end of the formal living room, blasting some modern music Leon couldn't recognize. He was an absolute amateur when it came to partying, so he felt lost and scared inside the crowd. He tried looking for Kevin everywhere, but due to his short height, he wasn't able to look past a few heads before him.

Leon approached the drinking table and ordered a soda. He tried to find a quiet corner to drink in peace before resuming his search for his former friend, but everywhere he looked was swarmed by the inebriated guests. He was quickly losing his patience, as he was pushed around by the dancing crowd over and over again. Somehow, he found his way to the big spiral staircase leading to the upper floors and jumping over the barrier to keep attendants on the ground floor, he quickly went up a few steps to get a better overview. Despite gaining the higher ground, his attempts in finding his friend proved unsuccessful. He was about to give up and head back home defeated when something caught his attention through the mahogany banister. The monstrous-looking black dog was staring at him from above, its glowing red eyes visible despite the chaotic party atmosphere. After making sure the nerd saw it, it walked further up the stairs into the second floor.

Leon remembered what the beast had told him the night before, and followed it into the higher level of the mansion. Once he made it to the upper floor, he saw the dog walking through a long hallway and entering the furthest room. The young nerd continued his pursuit and found himself in what he assumed was Kevin's room. The lavish bedroom was decorated with all sorts of trophies and medals, as well as an entertainment system appropriate for an active teenager. Leon's attention was drawn to the row of portraits on the big bookshelf. Pictures of young Kevin in all sorts of family trips and sports events were displayed in delicate frames. One picture, in particular, stood out from the rest. Leon couldn't believe his eyes as he took the silver frame in his hands and stared at the photograph. A young Kevin had his arm wrapped around a young Leon, both sitting on top of a rock next to a river. They were laughing, radiating genuine happiness through the picture. Leon couldn't believe that after all those years, Kevin kept memories from their childhood so close to him. The young man the nerd considered his bitter rival and enemy never antagonized him.

The big glass door to the balcony opened suddenly, letting a warm gust of wind into the room. Leon put the picture back in its place and headed outside. The stunning twilight sky was painted in different shades of red, showering the scenery with crimson rays of light. The hot summer breeze rustled the leaves on the trees surrounding the properties, producing a serene sound that drowned the music from downstairs. The nerd stepped on the balcony, and finally found what he was looking for. Kevin was standing on the edge of the marble banister, watching the beautiful sunset.

"Kevin?"

The handsome jock turned around to face Leon. The only thing the young nerd could see were the icy blue eyes inside his former friend's shadow, his silhouette completely encased in a red halo product of the dying sunset.

"I knew you would come. Come here, I want you to look at this."

Leon stepped forward, taking place right next to the handsome jock. Kevin flashed his regular charming smile at the nerd, who instantly turned red as a beet. For an instant, he was thankful for this unusually bright sunset that hid the blush on his cheeks.

"I wanted this evening to go perfectly. And now that you're here it's finally complete."

"Just tell me what you want Kevin. We haven't talked in years and suddenly you take interest in me. I just want to know why."

Kevin diverted his gaze into the sunset, suddenly turning serious. Leon could see the distress in his eyes.

"I never lost interest in you Leon. It was you who pushed me away. You were the one that decided to stop hanging out with me."

Leon clenched his fists in anger, the painful memories of his friend exchanging him for more popular friends still poisoning his mind.

"How dare you say that! You were the one that went away, that grew into…."

He made a nervous pause, uncertain about what he was about to say. The wrath inside of him made him spill out the words without thinking.

"Into a mindless meathead. Look at us, Kevin. Your physical prowess is unparalleled, that's a fact. But I got what truly matters: a brilliant mind. I have preserved my psyche in the best way possible. I've resisted the allure of petty teenage necessities. And now, I'm in the way of becoming one of the most brilliant thinkers in recent years!"

Kevin turned around to face the angry nerd, who was on the brink of tears due to the pent-up rage he was feeling.

"Is that what you truly want bro? It sounds very lonely to me."

"I don't need anyone. Soon, I'll be where I'm supposed to. I don't mind being alone."

Kevin grabbed Leon's arm, pulling him closer. The nerd could feel the intense heat radiating from the hunk's body. He stared directly into his former friend's blue eyes.

"Are you sure you want to be alone? I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I got all the attention I want, from anyone. When you look like me, it's an easy task."

He said flexing his meaty arm, straining the soft blue fabric on the sleeves of his suit. Leon couldn't take his eyes off of Kevin's body, completely mesmerized by the jock's posing show. He failed to notice his friend's eyes shining in a dark red shade from time to time. The jock's voice turned from warm and concerned, into cold and aggressive.

"No matter how much you lie to yourself Leon, you want to be like me. To finally be accepted by everyone, including your parents. Picture it for a second. Finally, be worthy of being called your father's son. What use is your intelligence to the Machiavelli family, when you lack the courage to destroy your fears? Truth is, you're no more than a resentful dweeb."

Kevin continued flexing, taking off his suit's jacket, his movements starting to take on a seductive flair.

"Stop it. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course I know. I know everything about you bro, including your darkest secret."

Leon suddenly opened his eyes like plates, completely incredulous for what was coming out of the jock's mouth. It was impossible anyone knew how he felt about Kevin, he didn't tell anyone. Kevin smiled with a hint of malice, knowing he had Leon right where he wanted him. His blue eyes now shone in a permanent crimson hue.

"That's right, I know that you like me. Your mind is indeed a complex maze, but no psyche cannot be cracked open. I could feel the fear of being discovered practically pouring out of your pores."

Leon looked down in defeat, feeling the embarrassment bubble out of him. He knew this was too good to be true. Kevin approached Leon once again, taking his chubby face with his hands and pulling it up to face him. The nerd's green eyes were pooled with tears.

"There's no reason to be miserable. The reason I called you here tonight was to tell you I feel the same way about you."

Leon couldn't help but open his mouth incredulously, his mind still registering the words that just came out of the jock's mouth.

"Wha—what?"

"I've also never connected with anyone the way I connected with you. You know the real me, buried beneath this sculptural body. That means I also know the real you. You don't have to be alone."

The young nerd's sad frown slowly turned into a smile. His face was inches away from his friend's, feeling the jock's hot breath on his skin. And then he smelled it. The same metallic smelled he caught in the locker room back at school, only this time it was much more intense. He also took notice of Kevin's glowing red eyes.

"Wait, this is not right. What's happened to you?"

Kevin's grip on Leon's face tightened, his face gaining a sinister flair.

"I'm exactly who I'm supposed to be. The question here is: are you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you who you are supposed to be? I know the real you is buried beneath this intellectual façade. We just gotta pull him out."

Kevin started caressing Leon's overweight body, rubbing his torso over the suit's jacket. The young nerd was giving in to the moment, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of his friend's strong hands on his body. One last glimmer of resistance made him suddenly pull away.

"No. I don't want this. I'm above these carnal sensations. I've never done anything with anyone."

Kevin smiled, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt, exposing the ripped divide of his upper chest.

"I know you're a virgin, I don't have any problems with that."

"But I do. I don't want it to be this way. If it ever comes to it, I want it to be special."

Kevin's confident smile quickly disappeared, replaced by a displeased scowl.

"Look at this Leon. The sunset, the balcony, the hot summer air. You said it yourself, this is the end of one phase of our lives. Isn't this special enough for you?"

"I don't know Kevin; this doesn't feel right."

"Look, it's very simple. I want to be with you, and I know you want to be with me. I just need you to renounce this ridiculous virtuous perception of your virginity. Give in to your flesh, and your body will become what you truly desire."

"My body is okay as it is."

Said Leon embarrassed by the remark of the increasingly impatient jock.

"You know it isn't. All these years you have deceived yourself in thinking you value the brilliance of your mind when in reality it's what has alienated you from everyone. Relinquish that notion, and you shall have everything you desire."

The nerd looked at his friend nervously, completely unsure about what he wanted. He thought he was sure about who he was, but what Kevin said was true. What's the point of intelligence if all you need to be accepted is purely physical? Was brilliant wisdom worth the loneliness? While Leon dwelled in his thoughts, a shadow materialized on the corner behind him. What first looked like a black dog slowly grew into a human form, taking the appearance of an extremely muscular young man, his body full of scars. He planted his crimson red eyes on Kevin, who nodded in agreement as his face grew more sinister.

"I'll make it easy for you. Kiss me. If you do, I'll know you're ready to take the next step and leave your old self behind. You'll finally be better than anyone else, just like you wish. Be warned though, there will be no turning back."

Leon was then assaulted by all the painful memories of his past. The loneliness of growing up as an outcast, the abandonment of his parents, and the disconnection from everything and everyone started crushing him. He had an opportunity to have what he truly wanted, not what he convinced himself he wanted. Hypnotized by the jock's supernatural gaze, he approached his friend with determination. Standing on the tip of his feet, he placed his lips on his. Black smoke started enveloping them, completely encasing the entire balcony and isolating it from the world. Leon felt butterflies in his stomach, as the kiss continued to gain intensity. A scorching hot feeling started seeping into his being, product of Kevin's mouth. When he realized what he had done, it was too late. He was completely under the control of the handsome jock, who started to take on a dominant role, aggressively pushing his tongue into the nerd's mouth. The last thing he consciously realized was what that taste in Kevin's mouth was: blood.

Energy started seeping into Leon's body, slowly impregnating his being. He was lost in the intense feeling his connection with Kevin was causing. The waves of power-hitting his body started making his blood boil, turning his body into an incandescent mass. He was sweating profusely, as the energy coursing through his veins unleashed different chain reactions in his cells, resulting in a vastly increased metabolic rate. The fatty deposits inside of him started to melt away, vaporized to fuel the nerd's body's incredible energy demand. His pants fell, as the rest of the suit started to hang loosely from his body. The formerly chubby red-head was left practically only in skin and bones. Kevin broke the kiss and looked at what his friend had become. His green eyes were dull and lifeless, and his formerly round face was left looking severely malnourished. He smiled victorious, knowing the spell was doing its job. He needed the man in the back to complete the transference, so he called him forward to participate in the passionate scene.

Kevin took his finger, rubbing it on his friend's lips seductively, as the muscular man in the back slowly pushed down the shoulders of the now skinny nerd to the ground. In one swift motion, the handsome jock ripped his pants off his legs, exposing a menacing bulge that was quickly gaining size in front of Leon's entranced gaze.

"Is this what you wanted? To serve and pleasure me?"

Asked Kevin dominantly, looking down at his friend. Even though Leon was still watching everything going on, the sensations in his body were driving him like an automaton. A part of his consciousness still resisted, yelling desperately that he was better than what he was becoming, but it was slowly getting smaller as if it were burned away by the divine energy coursing through his veins. He answered in a stupefied voice, unable to resist the temptation

"Yes."

"Wrong answer."

Said Kevin fishing out his manhood from his briefs and putting it on the nerd's open mouth. The same metallic taste accompanied by other muskier aromas immediately assaulted Leon's senses. He licked and tasted the meaty tube inside of him, desperately worshipping it with his tongue. The scarred man behind him then pushed his head further into the jock's crotch, making him swallow the entire seven thick inches at once. Kevin then proceeded to drill inside his friend's mouth with aggressive thrusts back and forth. Each time the phallus penetrated the nerd's mouth, the pressure inside of him caused his bones to elongate. Each limb stretched several inches, along with his spine, leaving the nerd with over a foot and a half extra height. The hands holding the jock's legs cracked and grew, along with his formerly small feet. Once his skeleton stopped breaking, the scarred man pulled Leon to his feet, his pants staying on the floor. There was a fight between bliss and misery inside of him, causing a blast of emotions that quickly flooded his head. It was like his mind was inside a pressurized pot ready to explode.

"You are the one that has to be served and pleasured. You have to conquer fear."

Kevin lifted the now taller red-head with supernatural strength and flipped him around, exposing his naked rear. Leon fell forward, grabbing on to the scarred man to remain on his feet, and felt the scorching hot head of his friend's member rub menacingly on his crack. He desired him more than anything in the world, his carnal passion completely overtaking his puritanical nature.

"Once we finally break your mind, you'll be able to become the god you were chosen to be."

And with those last words, Kevin impaled his friend mercilessly, getting one last howl of agony out of the nerd. Leon felt as if a dam had broken inside his head, flooding his mind and washing his old self away. Kevin's thrusts started pumping more divine energy into the red-head, which traveled inside his body filling out his newfound emptiness. Pure pleasure caused him to moan loudly. His blood pumped new power into his whole body, causing his muscles to twitch and ripple responding to the strength. His glutes were the first part of his body to expand. The handsome jock's phallus was quickly being swallowed further by two inflating globes of muscle. It looked like he was humping a pair of overgrown watermelons. The growth spread down his legs, filling out his quads and hamstrings with thick columns of muscle, growing as thick as two oak trees. Deep cuts were etched painfully on them, the skin stretched to its limits over the massive muscles. His calves grew to match the upper legs, gaining enough size to rival a football. His feet expanded to accommodate the still coming weight.

The pumped energy seeped simultaneously into his core muscles. Veins started gaining thickness the more power flowed in them, changing the muscle underneath. His lower back took the form of a large spearhead, two pillars of muscle slowly crawling up his back. His lower abs popped into existence, framed by two increasingly large obliques. First two, then four, then six, and ending in eight grenade-sized bumps on his stomach. The muscular pillars on his back started flaring like two flags, spreading growth into the red-head's lat muscles. The suit's jacket couldn't resist the growth for long, shredding itself to pieces revealing the sweaty skin underneath. Kevin grabbed the growing back with lust, feeling the searing hot muscle underneath move and inflate. The man's lats spread wide like a fighter plane, the muscle fibers fighting to fit into the already large frame. Mountains and valleys decorated the expanse of the magnificent back before the thrusting jock.

His chest was the next to grow as if gravity was pulling the muscle downwards. Two massive slabs of flesh etched themselves in Leon's upper torso, increasing his weight and making him widen his stance to find his new balance. The inflating pecs rose higher too like they were trying to reach his chin, while the lower parts expanded themselves reaching the limit of the red-head's anatomy. Once the veins reached his shoulders, these exploded in growth, reaching the size of an ancient Grecian helmet. Divine blood pumped into his arms, his biceps swelling to the size of big cannonballs. His triceps expanded underneath his arms, quickly adding girth to the now powerful limbs, reaching the size of a Howitzer cannon. His lower arms etched themselves with strong sinews, growing as wide as baseball bats. His hands hardened and swelled with new strength, gaining the power to crush the hardest skull with ease.

Thick veins traveled up his neck, followed by thick muscle cords making it seem more like a bull's neck than a human's. Once his Adam's apple finished its transformation, his high moans of pleasure slowly turned into a low manly grunt. Muscle piled into the squaring jaw, giving him a cartoonishly hyper-masculine look. His cheekbones rose higher, and his nose grew and broke, filling in with thick tissue. His forehead expanded further, hooding his eyes and giving him a menacing look. Kevin accelerated the rhythm, reaching the mortal limits of his body.

"Taste true power brother, and take your place above those beings you always deemed inferior."

With one final thrust, he emptied his burning load into the titan in front of him. The divine seed seeped into every tissue, making his body gain even more thickness than before. The muscles gained the strength and prowess of the best warrior the world had ever seen. The essence then corrupted what was left of his being, turning him into a new deity. Blood flowed out of his pupils, forever turning the former green eyes to an intense crimson hue. A new personality engraved itself in his head, growing increasingly aggressive the more he became aware of his existence. His puritanical nature was replaced with an insatiable lust for flesh, either in sex or in battle. His enviable knowledge was replaced by a killer instinct that made him a fearsome foe for whoever was misfortunate enough to challenge him. Eons of battle techniques and combat prowess flourished inside of him, aging him into a man in his masculine prime. The former erudite was reborn in the form of the fiercest warrior in the world. And as such, his nature turned dominant, making him displeased about the situation he was in. He stood up, now much larger than the two other men next to him.

"That's more like it,” He said in a deep voice, flexing his new muscles. Kevin and the other man stared triumphantly at their creation, watching the giant relish in his raw strength. They both felt a psychic bond form with the titan, now that he gained dominion over them. The former Leon turned to face them, his glowing red eyes staring at the scarred man with lust.

"I'm still not quite there yet. Come, brother. It's your time to serve me."

He pushed the muscular man on the banister and grabbed his own still tiny penis. He could barely hold it with his massive hands, the 4 inches stuck out barely enough for his fingers to grab. With inhuman strength he pulled the muscular man's ass apart, exposing the coveted goal for his manhood. He managed to penetrate the scarred man, and another wave of pleasure assaulted him, making him roar in bliss. He started thrusting into the man with such force it started cracking the solid banister underneath. The lesser deity moaned delighted, as he felt the member inside of him grow further, pushing deeper into his body. The titan's phallus grew to heroic proportions, gaining almost 8 inches in length and resembling a thick torpedo. The balls slapping the man's muscular thighs expanded as well, dropping lower to bovine proportions. New hormones started pumping into the giant, altering its appearance even further. Kevin watched smiling as his red curls receded a bit on his head and turned pitch black, along with his eyebrows, which grew thick and arched themselves upwards. His face started taking on a more exotic look, his lips thickening and his nose growing a bit more. The black bubble around the fornicating gods started breaking, dark smoke seeping into every pore of the giant. His pale skin darkened to a light brown, and dark follicles started popping out of his entire body. His manly jaw was quickly covered by a shadow, which grew into a magnificent black beard. The hair was so thick the skin underneath was not visible. A carpet of black hair covered his body, growing thicker on his crotch and under his arms. He kept thrusting with increased fury, feeling his own divine seed churn in his balls. He was drenched in sweat, a manly aroma quickly surrounding him. He smelled like old iron, like burnt gunpowder, like a warrior in his prime. With a powerful roar, he exploded inside the scarred man, fully cementing his new birth as Assad, the king of war.

The scarred man dropped to the ground completely exhausted, leaving Assad standing naked under the crepuscular sky. The jock scanned the titan from top to bottom, savoring every aspect of the new god before him. Assad barely gave him a second look, his old knowledge and memories gone.

"Father will be very pleased."

"Indeed I am."

A bone-chilling voice came out of the shadows in front of them. Assad watched as the god of war emerged from the darkness in his full glory. Ares rarely smiled, but he couldn't help to curl his lips up a little bit once he saw his sons' creation. He was right in delegating his power and the transference to them. Assad immediately fell on one knee, bowing respectfully before his master.

"You bred it into a full warrior, well done."

Kevin just smiled solemnly, accepting the god's compliments. Ares suspected the chosen one had to renounce voluntarily to his virtue to achieve its fullest potential. That is why he let the natural lust do his task for him. He provided the essence; the rest came from the new champion.

"Ready to serve milord.” Said Assad without lifting his gaze.

"And you will. I gave you a new life as a descendant of humanity's most powerful warriors, and in exchange, I own you now. There's something I need you to do. If you succeed, you will be allowed to take a place next to me as a worthy god. I want you to destroy the goddess Athena."

Ares then took his spear and cut his arm open. Ichor fell to the ground, taking the shape of a golden sword. Assad took the weapon in his hand, feeling its power course through him. A shining bronze armor formed around his torso, along with a helmet and a red cape. Ares was satisfied by the look of his new pawn.

"Meet me in Greece, by the feet of Mount Olympus the night of the next full moon."

"Yes, milord. I won't fail you."

With a powerful kick of his legs, the giant leaped into the sky, disappearing in the red horizon. Ares approached the banister and stood next to his sons, watching his creation advance towards his destiny.

"You can get off that meat suit now, Phobos."

Kevin's face produced one last sinister smile, as a dark shadow stepped out of him, his body falling to the ground completely unconscious. The black mass took the form of another overly muscular scared man, identical to the one still laying on the ground.

"This was way too easy, father."

"Don't be arrogant. Influencing a mortal's free will is no easy task. It's different than just persuading them with fear, as you might know."

"I didn't have to do much. This mortal in particular had very strong feelings for the champion. I just had to break his self-control barrier a bit. And I admit I let him feel some of the pleasure too, although I'm sure Deimos there had way more enjoyment."

Ares stood silently staring into the sunset. He made sure he created the best warrior of them all. He proved that the virtues so dearly preached by his stuck-up sister were vulnerable to his raw strength. He chose to let the champion be corrupted by his own desire. This was going to be his opportunity to eclipse his siblings and get his father's acceptance. He looked at his son, able to see the beauty underneath the godling's intimidating appearance. Aphrodite's image came back to him, remembering the unbreakable bond both gods possessed. He wondered if she would be capable of moving against Zeus. The goddess of beauty was not to be underestimated, so Ares spared no effort in creating the best Champion he could to compete.

"So, you interfered with the mortal's love interest. Your mother wouldn't approve."

[florvinhara]

❣ !! :D (😘❤❤)

agskdgsks thank you SO much!!! 💖💖💖 (both for the prompt AND for screenshotting/resending ahjdhdjs) hope you enjoy!

a dying kiss (the detective dies pre-love confession)

----

There's so much blood.

Enough that it paints the air with a misty red haze, enough that Adam can taste it there, metallic and cloying, making his head spin from the sheer quantity.

It belongs to both his team and their enemies, and now that the battle is won- of course it is- he will go around to each member of the unit, assess their injuries and memorize each one as if he had borne it himself, watch the wounds heal. It is a sequence of events he is all too familiar with, but he is not overly fearful for the safety of his companions; they are strong, protected by experience and the nature of their existence. Except for-

As he scans the battleground, searching, an entirely different scent surrounds him, an intoxicating, heady smell that makes dread weigh his heart down like an anchor. And then he sees her, fallen in a halo of her own blood, and any vestiges of pride he had felt at their victory freeze into icy terror.

He's at Luna's side in an instant, hands hovering uselessly before he pulls her closer, into his arms like he can belatedly shield her from harm. 

Her eyes flicker open, breathing shallow as if it takes enormous effort for her to focus her gaze on his face. Relief battles everything he knows about mortal wounds; a foolish hope that eclipses reason cascades over him, and he allows it. 

Luna looks at him, eyes sorrowful but accepting, full of an emotion he cannot bear to name in this moment. "Adam," she says weakly, "I-", and a fit of coughing overtakes her before she tries again.

He knows what she intends to say, the words that have been filling the space between them for months. But to hear them now, of all times- “Don’t say it,” he pleads, begging for the first time in hundreds of years. “Not like this.”

"Adam," she murmurs.

"You can tell me later," he promises. An unspoken just stay alive hangs in the air.

“Okay,” Luna whispers. “Later, then.” It is a final kindness that she allows them both, to imagine a world where there will be a later, to briefly escape the heinous reality of these last moments in a place where the force of Adam’s will is enough to save her. And god, if it were- if it were.

As in, it is not.

As in, he is helpless, and he feels the sickening noose of it tightly around his throat.

As in, each slowing beat of her heart is mercilessly counting down the minutes, the seconds they have left, and after 900 years he never envisioned having too little time.

"Hey. Come here?" Luna asks, reaching up to him. Anything, he thinks, leaning closer into her space, relishing the feel of her hand on his cheek, though his heart wrenches at how cold her fingers are. Tilting up, she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, softer than he deserves and unbearable in its brevity. "Later," she starts, then pauses with a wince. "Later, when I tell you-" her words are hurried, gasped out as if each one costs her immeasurably. "I'm gonna go all out. Fireworks, doves. It's gonna blow your mind." 

She is trying to make him laugh, even now, and he cannot bear it, pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes so he does not have to confront the future that has been torn from them. Distantly, he hears a quiet exhale, feels her hand slip from his cheek, recognizes the heavy absence of her heartbeat in his ears, and when he pulls back to look at her, she is gone.

"No," he demands, orders, implores. "No, come back!" But his words, too loud in a world that is so horribly quiet without her, fall on unhearing ears. A familiar darkness encloses his heart like iron chains, but it is so much worse now that he has known the light. 

[musemelodies]

I guess it’s a good time as any to talk about Walter’s past relationships ‘cause to quote...whoever coined this phrase, (I wanna say John Mulaney), there’s a lot to unpack here. Despite being older than Zeke, Walter hasn’t been around nearly as much as him, but he’s been around and has quite a few stories to tell (some of them even true) sooo...I don’t know how to close out this introduction so I’m gonna let this guy do it for me:

John Mulaney, folks! Let’s give him a big hand!

A n y w a y...

Picture it: Las Vegas, 1932. A much younger (and less jaded) Walter had a grand total of one animated appearance so far, a crowd scene in one of those Bosko and Honey pictures and he was keen to put his name out there. After hopping a bus from Burbank to Vegas, Walt was trying his hand at stand-up when he found himself sharing the stage with--oh, I’m sorry, I've just been informed by Walter's legal representative that I’m not at liberty to tell that story. Or call him Walt. Insert tired as heck Disney joke here, but yeah...let’s fast-forward a bit, shall we? 

Much of the thirties was a hectic experience for Walter, having gone from a random extra to the main antagonist of the Slappy the Slaphappy Squirrel series. I’ve just been informed that that’s one and only time I can speak that name so there it is. (Don’t worry, one of these days, I’ll write a deeper thing about their relationship ‘cause that’s a novel on its own.) He didn’t really have time for romance, let alone a serious relationship or at least that’s what he told the press to get them to go away. Sometimes he was a wingman for Zeke and Marie, other times he was sandwiched between them, and Zeke asked him to be the best man when they tied the knot. Unfortunately for him, Marie chose a certain squirrel to be the maid of honor. They may or may not have danced together. His memory’s a bit fuzzy on that one.

Whenever Walter was questioned about his relationship with Slap--his costar and if there was anything going on between them, his answer was to throw a bomb at them. If he was in a good mood, he might’ve made a snarky comment about it, but most of the time, he reached for the bomb. Even if he did have those feelings--and he didn’t, don’t look at him like that--it would’ve seriously hurt their careers. After a producer caught him sneaking out of his costar’s dressing room (he was just there to drop off a bomb, honestly), he was yanked into his office and immediately reprimanded. 

He was given a long speech about professionalism and protecting the brand or something to that extent. He spent more time shielding his face from the man’s spit-filled rant than listening to him. At any rate, Walter denied having anything to do with his costar, other than what the script called for and what the audience expected from him. If they wanted slapstick, he’d give them slapstick, but as her fame quickly eclipsed his and he spent more time in traction than in the spotlight, he began to grow bitter. Not as much as in his later years, but still... 

With the arrival of the war, Walter joined the air force with Zeke and had even less interest in finding The One, though he did take up the sax. They both played for the company and later, after the war was over, the Toontown Philharmonic. After Zeke complained that the latter was too square, they took to the Ink and Paint Club and played backup for various stars, including the one and only Red Hot Riding Hood. 

To say Walter had hearts in his eyes was putting it lightly. He and Red struck up a strange, but genuine friendship with a lot of mallets and banter involved and slowly, but surely, it lead to something more. He loved her sense of humor and how she didn’t take any shtick from anyone and the way she just lit up the room. As cheesy as it sounds, those were some of the best days of his life. 

For a while, Walter even considered popping the question, but as the Tex Avery era was coming to a close and Red was longing to see the world, she gently broke it off with him in ‘55. Walter wanted to go with her, but she insisted he stay in Burbank. He still had a future in cartoons and maybe she would make a comeback someday, but in the meantime, she had to see what life was like beyond the showbiz scene. After giving him a smooch, she bid him goodbye, dropping him a postcard a month later. It took Walter some time to come to terms with it and even now, he still wonders what might have been. They still kept in touch over the years, though and he’s happy to call her a friend. <3

The sixties brought on a period of uncertainty. Theatrical shorts were no longer a big draw and Walter had taken to doing stage work and bit parts in B-movies and the occasional commercial, just to keep himself busy and pay the bills. It seemed like everyone he knew was either hitched or getting hitched and he felt like he was missing out. 

Enter Wilhelmina Wolf, a studio teacher whom he met through Sid. She was a nice enough gal, a math whiz, and knew her way around a good joke. After six months of going steady, they got hitched and the following year, Wilhelmina gave birth to three beautiful pups. The early days of their marriage weren’t bad and he loved being a father, but after a time, he and Wilhelmina had almost nothing to say to each other, save when they were arguing. After a while, they called it quits and received joint custody of their daughters. From then on, they stayed with their father every other month and he doted on them to make up for the drama.

From the end of the sixties and throughout the seventies, Walter didn’t play the field too much. He continued to do stage work and starred in a rather cheesy and short-lived superhero series with his oldest costar. He was still adamant that there was nothing between them, despite feeling a weird and distinct pain every time he saw her with that white-haired schmuck from Jonny Quest. Maybe it was indigestion. Yeah, it was most likely that.

By the time the eighties rolled around, Walter was starting to age (and so was his routine) and though he wouldn’t admit it, he was lonely. His daughters were growing up and his career was in limbo and he was yearning for something (or somebody) to make him feel young again.

At Zeke’s urging, he went out with a fox named Vanessa Volpe, an aspiring actress and model who was twenty-six. She was gorgeous and she was quick to sink her claws into him or rather, his wallet. She had him on a string for about a year, all it took was a cute expression and a purred request, and Walter would give her the moon. Half his pals were green with envy and the other half were green with disgust, but not as much as his kids. His youngest daughter refused to speak to him and wouldn’t participate in the wedding. His costar showed up and cracked plenty of hard-hitting jokes about the happy couple. Three months later, Walter came home to find Vanessa messing around with their next-door neighbor (who also happened to be an up and coming director) and, well, that was the end of that. 

Walter’s love life was pretty uneventful throughout the nineties and well into the new millennium. Considering he was significantly older and bitter and deeply wrapped in his denial, the idea of getting into a relationship didn’t appeal too much to him. However, out of sheer spite towards his costar and having nothing better to do that night, he went on approximately one date with Candie Chipmunk and it was excruciating. Halfway through it, he ran screaming out the door. 

So that’s where Walter’s at as of today. As for the future, who knows??

[elmidol]

Three Small Words (NSFW)

Three Blind Tooke Part Two Precarious Harmony

Read on AO3

Warnings: sex, angst/complicated feelings; oral; face sitting; slight emotional manipulation

Three Blind Tooke

Part Two: Precarious Harmony 

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Three Small Words 

The man who slept next to you was not the creature who had impaled you with the plasma blade; he was not the monster that had dragged you away from the flames that would have promised death. While the body did indeed belong to the one who had stolen your virginity and tortured you, there was something different about him as well. Rather than shying away from the name of Ben Solo, he was seeking to embrace it. Not as his current self either. A portion. Kylo Ren was adamant that the past should die. Even should he have begun to use the name Ben Solo throughout the rest of his days, that would never be the Ben Solo from the days prior to turning to the Dark. He would not be the person Rey would be made to believe she could save. Kylo Ren would be manipulating her, maneuvering her into a position where she could be used. Only then, when she proved herself ready to fight alongside with him, would the Force user offer her a place at his side as ruling body over the galaxy.

 Like the Sith, you had whispered. Kylo Ren had paused, his brown orbs searching your face as his expression softened. He had not needed to say anything further at that point. This was beyond the Sith. No Jedi either. You were unaware as to what Kylo Ren intended to call the new order that would arise from the joining of their powers. This was not a question you had posed.

 Ren had not redressed when he had finished toying with you. His nakedness was concealed by the blankets, one of which possessed a loose thread you were tugging at. You sometimes loathed when plans were made for the future. They were emotionally exhausting. This perhaps best explained why you had been frantic and desperate to kill him originally. He had robbed your future. You pushed your right hand underneath the covers to touch your scar. The finger with the name Ben Solo tattooed on it twitched. The next moment you curled your hand into a fist, which remained on your belly. There would forever be a hole in you. All choices had been stripped away. Not quite all; you had options that revolved around Kylo Ren. Killing him, strengthening him… You squeezed your eyes closed as the unbidden addition of loving him entered your thoughts.

 It was not quite love so much as caring; you told yourself this, and knew that it was a half-truth. You doubted that you could ever love him completely and romantically. That would have entailed not only forgiving, but putting all the times he had raped you completely in the past.

 Let it die.

 A hand of ice seized your heart as Kylo Ren’s voice wormed its way into your thoughts. History helped to create the present, offered up a means of shaping the future. You gagged at that final word. Future. Turning over onto your side with your back to the man, you curled your knees towards your midsection. The second sob broke through your attempts to swallow it down. After but a single gag, the horrid, pathetic noise erupted from your mouth. The mattress shifted, which is what you had feared would occur. The man behind you turned, his chest pressing against your spine.

 His mouth was at your ear then. Hot breath blew aside strands of your hair as he spoke to you. “Are you afraid, tooke?” A spasm caused your body to undulate along with his. Kylo Ren set three fingers on the back of your hand, rubbing up and down. “You have become aware, haven’t you? Once I am Supreme Leader, Rey will be the new Master of the Knights of Ren. We will destroy the Resistance. The Sith. The Jedi. All of it—gone. And you… You will have to let the past die.” His fingers stretched further, his entire hand eclipsing yours. “I could have loved you…and I can still, tooke. I told you. I marked you as mine.” Ren’s voice had dropped to a whisper now, intimate, for your ears only.

 You shuddered at the thought of it. Kylo Ren in the place of Supreme Leader Snoke. This girl Rey where Ren now was. As for General Hux—you toyed with the idea that the Force user was planning to use him in a similar manner that Snoke was. The redhead was, after all, a great tactician. It would be foolish on Kylo Ren’s part to dispose of such a tool. You grit your teeth at that thought. Snoke would no longer be the puppet master. That would fall to Kylo Ren. It would not be Kylo, Hux, and you being moved around the board. It would be Rey, Hux and you. All the wile Kylo Ren would be holding your strings.

 He was far worse than the creature that had taken your virginity. Kylo Ren was now the one who wanted you by his side.

 “You don’t love me,” you croaked, your words sounding almost hollow as the desperation from the past returned. There was no utterance of I do nor Not yet nor anything at all. His tongue, hot and wet, was on your ear. The underside drew a line downwards, and you jerked away from him, curling up further.

 “Soon you won’t need to live in the past.” His words slipped out like a promise, and it was one you did not wish to believe. The sort of love he was insinuating was one of blind devotion. Adoration and worship—this was the monster you had sworn to kill, and it had sprouted more heads while sharpening its fangs. “I saw it in your eyes, tooke. You have never met her—is she the first woman you have ever craved?”

 His filthy words had you shuddering. You swatted at him, shaking your head and whispering for him to stop. You wanted nothing more than for that silver tongue to become still.

 “She has feelings for the traitor.” Ren traced your hip with two of his fingers. The bare flesh on your naked skin, his ghost touches encouraged your body to respond. Somehow you had become an instrument, and he was the only player who knew how to stroke your strings in the ways that caused sounds to be produced. The soft gasp followed by a staccato of breaths. The fingers had traveled from your hip to your lower belly, on which he traced patterns. His name. The girl’s. Kylo-Rey-Ben-Kylo. Between each, a pause, his hand cupping you, rubbing you. “You used to imagine your allies fucking you when I was inside your body. Do you think her tongue would feel like mine?”

 “I…” You gulped, your mouth too filled with saliva. It was difficult to know what to say to him when you were confused about your own feelings. Your attraction to this woman—and, stars, how obsessed with you did he have to be to have noticed?—confused you most of all. You had never met her. Yet you loved her. It was not lust. You had no idea what she looked like. What color eyes did she have? What shape was her face? The picture that was being painted in your head with every word that slipped from those lips, however, complicated you. But… He had always been skilled at that, hadn’t he?

 “Would you like to call me Rey while I taste you?” Kylo Ren purred, his finger slipped past your lips and inside of you. He stroked you from within, small, quick rubs that had your toes curling. The hand that had been on your scar now caught his wrist. “Just a Jakku scavenger, tooke. How starved she must be. How thirsty. Imagine how greedily she would drink you up.”

 Kylo removed his finger, bringing it to his lips and greedily slurping at the sticky substance that had gathered. That taste of your juices made him groan. His hands were again on your hips, this time to push you until your ass hit the pillow. Kylo jerked your legs open. His thumbs started to dig into the flesh of your inner thighs. His mouth remained inches away from you. You could hear him blowing as much as feel it. That thin line of air from his pursed lips. It hit against your clitoris. Your body felt as though it were pulsing, heat spreading through you. You shielded your eyes with one hand.

 “Do you prefer Ben to Rey?” that husky voice asked you. The moisture in your eyes had not disappeared, however there was nothing new gathering. His teasing irritated you. It aroused you. It distracted you, blissfully so, from the feelings of desperation that had earlier plagued you.

 The truth was that you preferred whichever of them—Ben or Rey—that would be able to put a stop to Kylo Ren’s plans. If he became the Supreme Leader, you feared that the Resistance would be destroyed. Supreme Leader Snoke had been teaching his pupil that sentiment was a weakness. Kylo Ren was using that against Rey. Against you. All the while somehow displaying moments of sentiment and compassion. That cold, unfeeling creature that was Snoke… You had somehow led yourself to believe that it would be far more terrifying than Kylo Ren. How mistaken you had been.

 If you could orchestrate a means of Kylo and Rey assassinating Snoke while either Rey or even General Hux killed the Force user who was now kissing your knee then it would be a risk worth taking. Rey would be able to defeat Hux so long as she received proper training from Luke Skywalker.

 There were far too many factors, too many pieces. How had Snoke become such an effective puppeteer?

 Kylo Ren distracted you from this question by tugging at your strings. He nibbled at the side of your knee, up your thigh. Sucking your flesh, his tongue laving at the skin between his teeth. Your hand moved away from your face. You gripped the bed sheets, the leg that was not occupying his mouth now outstretched. His fingers dug further into your thigh. It hurt. It amplified the sensations of pleasure. Ren pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, shifting towards the side and tugging you along with him. Your feet touched on the ground directly after his.

 His hands on your wrists, Kylo yanked your arms up above your head and pinned you to the wall. You stared at him with wide eyes, your chest rising and falling as you attempted to control your breathing. You recognized the fire in his eyes as animosity. Not against you, but instead directed at your attraction to Rey. The familiarity of this stemmed from your interactions with General Hux, all of Ren’s reactions to them. The zealous nature of his obsession with owning you had you jerking your eyes off of his face and staring at the wall. In his passion, he said things that you wished could be taken back. You were granted glimpses of the monster that had hunted down your allies; the creature that continued to slaughter your comrades on the battlefield. This was not the man who housed the memory of Ben Solo, not in these moments.

 The pressure on your wrists waned. As though realizing his mistake, Kylo Ren stepped nearer to you. His lips were feather-touches on the heels of your hands. Did he, you wondered, expect you to put aside the memories of these moments with him if he succeeded in his plans? Let the past die. As though he could control what clung to your mind, what shaped you into who you were to become, and what you would guard yourself against. The time he had spent with Snoke had the exact outcome you had dreaded.

 “You’re so cruel,” you said, sniffing then parting your lips to inhale more deeply. Ren’s mouth was now on your left wrist. A kiss. Not an apology. This was simply him changing tactics. “I thought things had changed with you after Starkiller was destroyed. They haven’t.”

 Rather than respond to your words, to the accusation, Kylo Ren muttered out for you to remain still. His hands left you, and you obeyed simply to see what it was he wanted from you. This was not solely about sex. Had that been the case, he would not have sobered when you responded to him with apprehension. You allowed your head to loll, rolling your shoulders and considering the scars he had obtained during his battle with Rey on Starkiller base.

 He, meanwhile, was staring at your scar. Kylo Ren reached forward to trace around its edges. “You’re terrified to watch the Resistance fall. There is no Resistance for you, tooke.” You were aware that he was not being literal so much as underlining the fact that the Resistance would never allow you to join in the fight again if you somehow, miraculously, managed to escape the First Order. The best place you could be, ironically, was still at Kylo Ren’s side. “You don’t want her. You don’t want Rey—you want me.”

 Your lips pressed tightly together as you frowned at him. Admitting that you did not know what you wanted would give him too much power, and so you chose to instead remain silent. Your mind wandered to how General Hux had been treating you. Passively. As though you were side entertainment for when he was not busy; and he was busy…which meant that the Resistance was suffering countless losses. It was much the same as when he had ordered the Starkiller weapon to be fired, when he had caused your mother’s death. General Hux never backtracked as a means of appeasing you so much as changing tactics to better manipulate you. With Kylo Ren, though the majority of his actions were similar, there was the key difference that he did, on some warped level, care for you.

 “I do want Rey.” His mouth twitched, the man beginning to scrunch his nose as though ready to bare his teeth. “I want her to defeat you after you kill him.” Kylo moved ever closer. He set his forehead against your shoulder, shifted nearer, and had his face buried in the crook of your neck. You could feel his eyelashes brush against you as he closed his eyes. “The Ben Solo from the past is dead. I’m not stupid, Ren.”

 “She won’t believe that,” the dark-haired man rumbled. You hummed in acceptance of his words. “Perhaps your feelings for her will help put her at my side. I will have to teach her the ways of the Force. She hardly knows how to control her powers. To the Knights, she will be a stranger, an amateur. But, tooke, her potential is great.”

 The way he spoke, you imagined he had managed to convince himself that the only way Rey could fulfill her potential was to join him, to study under him. It was much the same as how he treated you when it came to the differences between the First Order’s views and those of the Resistance. It was always his way that was best, or so he deluded himself into believing. This was not a man who could be saved, you thought for the umpteenth time. He did not want to be saved. He craved power. The son of your beloved General Organa was self-entitled and dark. He was dark.

 You lowered your arms to your sides, the strain having started to make itself known. You were allowing your mind to drift to how things would proceed if Kylo Ren did succeed in all his plans. Not only would he be Supreme Leader. Rey would be the Master of the Knights of Ren, and they would assist in claiming the galaxy. The New Republic was destroyed, the shambles housing the remnants of the Resistance. Kylo Ren had taken you from the Resistance. What was to stop him from doing the same with the entire galaxy? Rey. The girl Rey, and Skywalker if the legendary man did indeed return.

 You covered the scar from your lightsaber wound with both hands, one atop the other. “You don’t like it when I think of anyone but you.”

 Lips curled into a smile, his eyes shining with that hint you knew to be his streak of possessiveness, Kylo Ren straightened and stared you in the face. “If Rey from Jakku would thirst for you, tooke… If she would drink you up so greedily…” The man was lowering himself onto his knees in front of you, his hands on your thighs, nudging them, albeit less forcefully than he had been not long before. “Tooke…” His tongue traced his lips. Slowly. With purpose. You swallowed thickly, your body clenching, legs trembling. Kylo whispered your name as though it were a prayer. Softly. With something that would have been described as love if not for the fact that, at this moment, the two of you did not love one another. Your lips parted at that. There was something impossibly thick in your throat. Emotion. “I’m parched, tooke.”

 You removed the hand that possessed the tattoo of Kylo Ren from your belly, using it to trail your fingertips up his face. Mere hours before he had encouraged you to call him Ben Solo. He had wanted to play make-believe with you. All practice to lure Rey to him. To ensure that he would be able to eliminate Snoke when the opportunity presented itself, when the apprentice was ready to surpass the master. Though Rey would be beneath Kylo Ren in terms of position—Master of the Knights of Ren serving the Supreme Leader—you knew that he would treat her as more of an equal than Snoke now treated him. But for now… Now he was begging for your approval.

 Deciding to play along again with the knowledge that it would be best to appease him for now—the two of you constantly finding and exploiting openings in the other’s defenses—you shifted your fingers down to his mouth. Kylo Ren parted his lips, wrapping them around two of your digits and sucking at them. You thrust them forward, began to draw them back, and offered them to him anew when his growl threatened to turn into a whimper. His tongue waggled its way between your fingers. You added a third into his mouth, again rocking them back and forth, fucking his mouth with them. Ren moaned, bobbing his head and staring up at you with those eyes. Desperation. Desperate for approval, your approval.

 You pinched his tongue, catching it between your middle and ring finger. It was an awkward hold, though one he allowed to keep him. “Beg for it, Ren.” His eyes began to narrow. He was not exactly pleased by the level of boldness that you were displaying. Given how much he had teased you, however, you had no sympathy. You snatched your hand up, your fingers leaving his mouth with a wet pop. You raised your hand to your face and observed the way they glistened. “You don’t have to. Unlike before, I am willing to touch myself now. I don’t need you.”

 “Let me taste you,” Ren said, his voice breathless. You could hear the slight rumbling afterwards. His growl. His hands on your thighs allowed you to feel the way he was trembling. Kylo Ren held himself back from taking what he wanted from you. He had, when telling you of the Rule of Two that well described your relationship with him, placed you as his equal in certain respects. When you did not grant him permission, his fingers dug into your thighs. There would be bruises there. You lifted your hand to your mouth and kissed the tattoo of Kylo Ren. “Let me show you how parched I am.” His shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breaths. He was rocking a little, swaying. You watched his tongue flick out for a second time.

 “You want something wet?” Kylo Ren was looking up at you with his eyes alone. There was a hesitancy to his actions now. His eyes dropped to your pussy then raised back to your face. You parted your thighs, spread your legs enough to where his face would be able to fit, and stroked his hair. “Who are you right now? Ben? Rey? Kylo Ren?” You snickered. When he bowed his head, you took pity on this man who had been your enemy for so long. You used your foot, rubbing its side along his hip. “What am I supposed to moan if you’re any good?”

 “Ren,” he said, all traces of shyness and indecisiveness gone.

 You hummed, replaced your foot on the ground, and placed a hand on the back of his head to urge him forward. His nose brushed against your pubic hair. You felt his tongue against your outer lips, slipping through, parting your folds. Your mouth formed a small o as Kylo Ren licked from your entrance to your clitoris, where he paused to suck at you. Tilting back his head while keeping his mouth on you, Kylo Ren stared up at you. You met his gaze, rocking your hips forward. With a moan, he opened his mouth wider, his tongue again finding your entrance. You could feel him working that organ against you, gathering your juices and drawing them into his mouth.

 There was the sensation that something was swimming inside of you, going around and around in your lower belly, threatening to shift down to your cunt. Ren groaned against you when he opened his mouth again. The vibrations had the sensation growing. Your free hand slammed flat against the wall. The sound of the slap echoed in the room. Those brown orbs were peering up at your face. Your eyelashes fluttered. Kylo Ren’s teeth grazed your clitoris.

 “Mm…Ren…g… Go… Bed…”

 You were left against the wall, breathing hard and legs wobbly. Kylo Ren climbed onto the bed without any further prompting. He laid on his back. His hand was on his cock, thumb tracing his length as he turned his head to stare at you. You kept your hand on the wall as a guide. Lifting one leg then the other, you moved climbed onto the bed as well, crawling then swinging a leg over. You straddled his face. Ren greedily opened his mouth. His hand was pumping his cock now, quick flicks of his wrist matching the pace at which you were rolling your hips. Your hands were in his hair.

 “Ah! R-Ren! Uhh….mm…” You leaned forward, feeling his nose nudging your clit as his tongue thrust up inside of you.

 Earlier you had pretended Kylo Ren was the man from his past. That he was Ben Solo, someone who could in actuality not be saved. Now you allowed yourself to play make-believe anew. This time, however, it was you toying with the future he had painted. You somehow killing all history that was preventing a loving relationship from forming. The rapes. The times you tried to kill one another. The way he had used you to hurt your mother. You pretended that none of those things existed. You pretended that Snoke was dead.

 You ground against his face, bowing your head and looking past your shoulder at the way he was pleasuring himself. Your jaw dropped as you came. His tongue was working more vigorously against you now, lapping at your cum. His hand was moving faster too.

 “Don’t cum,” you groaned, earning a moan of approval.

 Kylo Ren helped you off of him, holding your shaking body and laying you down so that your head was on the pillow. You kept your legs spread. He climbed between them, gripping himself and rubbing your wet cunt with the head of his erection. He rocked forward thrice, fucking your outer lips until you demanded, breathlessly, that he fuck you. You arched your back as he entered you. Your hands were on your breasts, toying with them. You pinched your nipples, tugged at them. You cupped your breasts from the side, thumbs and forefingers clasping your nipples.

 When he moaned, it was not the nickname he had chosen for you. It was your name. You whispered out a desperate yes.

 “I’m going to kill him one day, tooke,” he said. “And you’ll see. You will choose me.”

 You gripped his hair at the back of his head, tugging him down to kiss you. Your other hand left your chest as well to instead splay across his. You ran the sides of your fingers against his nipple. With a grunt, Ren grabbed onto your hips with both hands, the man picking up his pace. You broke the kiss, nipping at his jawline. When he said your name once more, you threw back your head. Swearing, you grabbed onto his shoulders and looked down at where your bodies were joined. His cock slipped in and out of you.

 You bit down on your bottom lip, swerving your hips so that he hit your g-spot. Kylo rested his forehead against yours. He was watching as well. One hand trailed from your hip to your lower back. He drew circles on your spine. Next, his name. Your entire body was trembling. It felt good, now that he was not teasing you out of jealousy but instead out of—you did not know what to call this. This was not love. He could not love you, not yet. That would interfere with his plans to defeat Snoke. That was something both of you desired.

 “Oh, fuck, Ren!” Your second orgasm crashed over you, and you could feel that the way your inner walls tugged at his cock made him cum too.

 The two of you laid down on the bed together, you in his arm. You closed your eyes and decided to play make-believe for a little while longer. Would this be your life with him if you did renounce the Resistance once he killed the Supreme Leader? Laying in his arms, satisfied on a sexual level…yet missing something. You clenched your jaw. Your right hand was on your abdomen. The scar. The hole in your life. The future that you could never have; a decision that should have been yours stolen away. The arm that was wrapped around you shifted. His hand found yours and rested atop it.

 He had killed that part of your future. Now he was asking you to kill your past.

 Rey was the one thing—person—you could cling to. The idea of her. You did not know what decision she would make when it came time. If she did choose to side with Kylo Ren, you doubted that you would be able to stop them. You had vowed to kill Kylo Ren or die trying. Perhaps you did need to stop living in the past. You would toy with the different possibilities of the future while also taking a day at a time. Relearn your body, as you had been doing, and sharpen your mind so that you would be able to stay ahead of Kylo Ren.

 “You’re mine, tooke,” he whispered. It was not the first time, and you doubted that it would be the last time he said those words. The sound you made was dismissive, and so the man tried again. This time it was not tooke. He said your name. Using your name, he claimed that you were his. He rubbed the back of your hand. “You admitted it before. You are mine as much as I am yours.”

 “That was not out of love,” you countered. Then, seeing an opening, you said with a sigh, “Besides, I thought we were going to let the past die. Those word were in the past.”

 “Then say them again.” He was infatuated with you. This man you had trained to kill. This man who had promised you not long ago that the two of you would work together. You being allowed to find chances to kill him. He using that as a means of growing stronger. Now he wanted you to reciprocate his other feelings for you. The ones he was masking during most of his waking hours. The ones General Hux would use as a weapon against the both of you.

 Would it be prudent to kill General Hux first? Or did you need to keep him as a failsafe to eliminate both Rey and Ren if the woman from Jakku joined the man who was in bed with you?

 “Do you want to be mine, Ren?” Here his hand curled around yours, his fingers wiggling until he was able to entwine them with yours. “You are volatile. Erratic. I can’t have that right now. My own body doesn’t even work like I’m used to.”

 “And…General Hux?”

 “He killed my mother, Ren.” There was venom in your voice. His thumb began to rub you again. Back and forth along the side of your hand. As though he did wish for you to be calmed.

 You wanted to tell him that you would not betray the Resistance; yet you had already agreed with him that there was no Resistance. There was you. There was him. Hux. Snoke. Rey. People who were pieces.

 “Right now I can’t kill the past. My past is filled with the dead. What you’re asking me to do—you’re wanting me to forgive you for breaking me. Repeatedly breaking me. Now you’re telling me that you can love me in the future. Isn’t sentiment a weakness? I thought you didn’t have compassion for enemies of the First Order.”

 Kylo Ren shifted onto his side. His hand did not leave yours. You kept your body as it was on your belly. This time when he said your name, you looked over at him. The two of you remained there, lying together, and watched one another. Now that the conversation had died away, the game of make-believe began anew. This was what it would be like to allow the past to die a thousand deaths. To accept the offer of his future affection. You would be in his arms.

 “Do you want to play a game of make-believe, Ren?” you asked. He blinked, his nod something you nearly missed. “Pretend.”

 With how long the two of you had been together—back when he had been your only form of social interaction, he had learned the language of your body so well—you did not need to elaborate.

 “You will call me Supreme Leader,” he said. Your eyes dropped to his lips. Biting down on yours, you weighed your options. Play, your mind said. You’ll get hurt, your heart whispered. Your mouth formed around the words that he had spoken, you uttering the title. “You don’t think I can do it.”

 “You’re doubting yourself.” For once, you did not want his uncertainty. You needed him to believe he could complete this task. “So: pretend… Supreme Leader.”

 “I love you.”

 The truth was in-between the lines. The silent will always present. This time you believed him. If he succeeded in his plans, he would love you.

 That hurt most of all.

[heartate-aa]

@essence-flux-primed​  sent  :  It's nice out here, away from the cameras, away from prying eyes (but not too far away that it's boring, of course). A quiet hallway, just for them. Ezreal's entranced by her, of course. The whole world is; she's a popstar, a queen, but he thinks his attraction is different. Wilder. His fingers graze up her sides as he eases her back against the wall, blue eyes searching for hers, then dropping down to her lips. "Ahri," he breathes, a rising star among so many. "Can I kiss you?"

               𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐥,  𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦.  the night was ablaze with the energy of thousands of people swimming in the arena’s seats and its ever  -  growing sea of bodies that had been all too eager to be starstruck by her electrifying presence alone.  and so,  of course she stole their hearts,  the very breath from their lungs when she and the rest of k / da took the stage,  rising from above the curling smoke and through the blinding spotlights.

her heart still beats with galvanized exhilaration long after the crowds scattered into the night,  shooting stars in the midst of a midnight canvas,  but now,  it’s for something entirely beyond the excitement of letting her voice carry off into the atmosphere.

ahri is careful,  deathly so.  not for her precious image beneath the gaze of adoring fans or anything ridiculous regarding the ideas of her sex appeal and how it sells,  but because her ribs are a brittle,  gilded cage housing a delicate heart that excites too easily,  gives too easily,  loves too easily.  she wonders if she can carry on with the air of mystery and allure that surrounds her like a thick cloak shielding her from touch and sight  —  oh,  how she has failed in the past.  her heart isn’t so weak and fickle that it’ll cave and bend at any little whim,  so she tells herself,  she can indulge for a moment,  just a single night,  and lose her inhibitions and lower her guard.

her eyelids flutter to a close as a light shiver caresses the line of her spine at his fingertips dancing along the sides of her torso.  heavy,  inky lashes eclipse the apples of her moonlight  -  dusted cheeks,  and finally she meets his gaze as her painted lips spread and curl as the corners of her mouth lift into a subtle smile.  he,  too,  is a shining beacon in the night whose light glows with a growing warmth.  always,  she finds a way to meet the most interesting people,  but this,  for all of his charm,  is unexpected.  but,  she cannot deny how she sought his gaze when they met,  how her laughter bubbles at his jokes,  how she seemed so eager for each meeting.  he is just fun to be around.  perhaps it is just that,  pure fun and nothing else to linger on,  but now,  it doesn’t matter what it is.

“    mm . . .    ”    a quiet hum escapes her before she acts,  graceful arms rising to settle delicately on his shoulders,  soft feathers upon skin,  as her hands come to rest gently against his head.  ahri remains silent,  smilingly knowingly,  choosing to instead answer him by pressing her soft lips upon his own.

[cosmicallynightmarish]

6.6.20, 11pm.

Delicate and terribly pale hands clasp within them a rosary, red-purple stained wood beads, it seems; telling are the lines of bones and white veins of something, of something, like a marble statue. From his lips are whispered prayers of a most controlled volume, conversations had with absent beings, yet this speaking only comes when unseen, when left alone, quieting when another draws close as it is eclipsed by the expectancy to either be spoken with succinctly, or left alone. There is a strange and quiet link to the young Adella, actually, more so like childhood acquaintances - now distant adults - who politely and happily nod to each other when passing on the streets, than anything more substantial. Whatever it is that reminds me of her, whether it is appearance alone or something deeper, I could not tell you. 

Surreptitious, certainly. Self-shrouding, a child pulled from a toy store - no, from his room - pulling back to return within, a black coat too big and ‘adult’ for him upon black clothes so distinctly contrasting against the white of his own timidity. Not scared, not necessarily, but obsessively withdrawn. What a neighbour would see as an ill child, and as a pitiable child if ever they saw him enough to recognise him as another human. Withdrawn, like a spider clings to the underside of a bed: most odd, skeletal, called back to places quiet and hidden. Inhuman.

I try to see his face. I am shown a distinctly old photograph taken from the very first cameras we saw at home. He faces the camera directly in the street where it was taken, though with a certain distance from it, carrying one thing in the crook of his left arm - seemingly some sort of soft bear toy, though possibly another sort of animal - and holding what seems to be his mother’s hand or sleeve with his own right hand, just tall enough to reach. His face is nonexistent, a textured colour like paints in oil in water, no eyes, no nose, no mouth, just a strange, mercurial, slightly bubbling glitch upon reality. The world softened around him, the Nightmare held its hand before his face, metaphorically, to shield the child from being seen.

There he is, though, now grown, kneeling upon the floor of the Grand Cathedral - knees to the side yet near-prostrating still, exhaustion describing itself in his posture - whispers holding encoded meanings spilling forth into nothingness, a fluent conversation in a symbolic language secondary to his mother tongue, or perhaps even preceding it. And yet, upon the wall to the left of the altar, is his presence too: A great, void-black, spider-esque creature as large as the beast-turned clerics perfectly still, watching what I watch. Not predatory, not lying in wait, but simply existing there, watching his young form; and through his vision, this young form is like a hologram, a video playing on a screen, a dusty tape found after decades of gathering dust taken outside a childhood house with childhood friends, that same haunting feeling of a time long-forgotten, and of conversations had with people who are no longer present, no longer remembered. That is what his spider-form sees.

There is a story, here. Perhaps not even a long one. A long-forgotten familial book of photographs begins to rot on a mantelpiece in an empty old Yharnam house, that is where the story is kept. I do not remember illness nor any part of my life in excessive - my internal voice changes, whatever it was before, I hear, now, again my own softer voice as I return to this form, no longer the viewed but the viewer. I do not remember being such a recluse, as much as it would fit if I do think about it; the world has within it that old, dusty book, the story of a rainy-day child, of old Yharnam houses with thin windows and old, dark bricks soaked outside with rain, of those windows glowing softly inside with the light of ubiquitously silver and indistinct cloud coverings, of cramped interiors and ever-shadowed corners, of mothers in many-layered outfits and aprons on top hunched over cooking fires. I look at her, like I always do. I am a quiet child, I wonder if she notices my strangeness. Does she mourn the child she could’ve had? Not so frail, not so strange? Not so obsessed with his geometric and self-defined web within comforting walls? I did not know, I do not even remember her. I watch her tend to the fire. It is cold in here. It is cold out of here. It is cold in the silver blood beneath the walls, and with that remark, the world blurs downwards, paint washed off the window in the generous winter rain. 

[princesskairi]

Potentially minor, nitpicky criticism to a small section of the Sleeping Realm Theory Doc. Note: This criticism has nothing to do with ship wars (at least that’s the intention!) as the doc has nothing to do with ship wars too.

This is referring to the doc’s analysis of the scene where Kairi and Sora reunite in the light tunnel under the section Riku is Light -> Light in the Darkness. Read more underneath.

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My biggest criticism in this analysis is how it presents Kairi and her importance to Sora in conjunction with Riku. This criticism also calls into question some of the claims used to debunk Kairi as being the light in the tunnel.

To start off, it’s not that I dislike the suggestion that Riku is the light in that scene, it’s that to then follow up and say that Kairi is off to the side then moves and “eclipses” that light from Sora’s view is risky framing whether intentional or not. 

While it might not be the writers’ intentions, it’s dangerous to paint that scene that way without further warning/clarification as it can easily fall into the toxic rhetoric that Kairi is in the way of Sora’s realization about Riku (unfortunately, something that is not uncommon in fanon). It takes a scene that is largely meant to display Kairi’s strength and resolve to protect Sora and shifts its focal point to Sora’s thoughts about Riku, which I feel is rather unfair to one of Kairi’s few spotlights in KH3.

The light can very well be Riku’s in that scene (considering the whole “Riku! Answer me!” analysis), but to present Kairi as “eclipsing” that light, leading readers to pick up a double meaning, and then to say that it is never Sora himself that figures she is his light severely downplays Kairi’s real significance to Sora and how he views her. If it is the case that Nomura intended to have double meaning in Kairi eclipsing the light and mislead the audience to think that she is the light by having Sora claim that she is, then of course my anger would be directed towards him alone. 

The part where the writers bring up a screenshot of Namine telling Sora that Kairi’s his light to emphasize that Sora does not figure it out himself is out of fair play. It’s taken out of context. Namine explicitly tells Sora that because she’s been messing with his memories up to that point. She guides and allows Sora to remember for himself that important connection before putting him to sleep to fix his faulty memories. Even if Namine doesn’t tell Sora that, there is no doubt Sora believes it himself. In fact, Sora has already since equated Kairi to light in KH1 (before Namine reinforces it to him) in his speech with Kairi in Traverse Town. He tells Kairi that it was her voice that saved him from the darkness. When Kairi responds that she didn’t want to forget about him, it is Sora that goes “That’s it! Our hearts are connected and the light from our hearts broke through the darkness. I saw that light.” With the prior context, that’s basically Sora figuring out for himself that “that light” was Kairi’s and the same concepts can be applied to reach and save Riku too. Also, Sora does explicitly conclude on his own in KH3 to Kairi that, “The light in the darkness. It is you”. It’s strange why the narrative that Sora is being misled to think Kairi’s his light (i.e. simply told by others) has to be included to further emphasize the idea that Riku is Sora’s light (esp. when there’s plenty of evidence that Riku is Sora’s light without needing to reevaluate Kairi-centric scenes and call to question Sora’s own revelations about her)? 

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Quote from the doc:

“And so ask yourself this, how is Kairi supposed to be following her own light back?”

Following the same logic, in KH1, how does Kairi, who at the time resides in Sora, also follow the light back to her flashback of her grandmother? Not only that, after her heart is restored to her own body, she tells Sora in Traverse Town, “A light at the end of the tunnel” to which he responds “Oh, your grandma's story right?” and she responds back, “That’s right, we were together”. This shows that Kairi too can in essence “follow her own light back” or at the very least experience that light from an outside perspective. But to leave it open, perhaps this ability is due to the weird oddities from her being in Sora’s body? Or a bolder take is that the light is actually Kairi’s grandmother’s light this entire time! lol! (I highly doubt that this was the intent but who knows! Unless past interviews/Ultimanias can shed some light.) In any case, before one can disprove Kairi being the light on this basis, one needs to also explain this contradiction (considering the doc makes a point that this kh1 scene is meant to be Kairi’s light).

Passage from the doc:

“And if this scene were truly meant to be taken at face value, why do we get these specific visions, inexplicably in the middle of it. Sudden visions of self sacrifice, both referred to as True Love and the reviving power it has. Except, neither Kairi or Sora had sacrificed themselves for just each other at this point, Sora tries to shield her (an act that read as surprisingly desperate and hopeless for the first sign of danger she faced, like he—his heart, remembered she was going to die in this battle no matter what) but Goofy blocked the attack and nothing came of it. And most importantly for all the danger she’s in, none of Kairi’s scenes read as self sacrificial, they read as resigned.”

As for the Disney visions, I do believe that the general takeaway was meant for Sora equating feelings of self-sacrifice, love, and care to his own situation. I do not believe it is exclusively meant for Riku and I do not believe that Kairi can not be equated to these scenes just on the merit that there is no direct self-sacrificial parallel of them in KH3 up to that point. One can argue that even if Goofy came to protect them, that doesn’t lessen the impact that Sora was ready to sacrifice his own danger for Kairi.

In any case, if self-sacrifice is a needed component to link these Disney scenes to someone then Kairi and Sora also have their share as do Sora and Riku. In KH1, Sora sacrifices himself to revive Kairi because of his love for her like how Eugene sacrifices himself for Rapunzel and Anna sacrifices herself for Elsa. Elsa and Rapunzel bring Anna and Eugene back due to their love for them. Same thing happens on Kairi’s end. While Kairi is made of pure light and has no immediate danger in getting pummeled by heartless when she hugs heartless Sora, she herself doesn’t know that she wouldn’t be in danger. That scene could be still interpreted as sacrificial to an extent. Kairi sacrifices her own danger to revive Sora with the power of her light and love for him. Same with Riku, he’s sacrificed himself plenty times for Sora out of his love for him throughout the franchise. These actions are still seen as sacrificial in nature despite Riku not actually dying at the end of it. Riku’s sacrifice (i.e. demon tide) is more recent, so these visions may better equate to Riku esp. with Sora remembering Riku when talking to Anna and others, but considering that this scene is about Sora and Kairi reuniting and Sora showing gratitude towards Kairi, it’s not fair to write Kairi off as not a trigger for these Disney scenes as well.

“This light, that Sora assumes is Kairi, but which she never confirms or denies, a light that led him to Riku’s heart originally. This light begins showing him these scenes of self sacrifice, and Sora makes a confused, jerking motion. And in reaction, Kairi is also confused. Which is weird considering if she’s the light, she would be the one showing him these visions in the first place, right?“

This isn’t quite a fair take. It’s impossible for Kairi to show these visions to Sora as she was not present when those scenes occurred. The same logic should apply to Riku. He was not present when those scenes occurred; he would not be able to show these visions either. So what gives? I don’t believe these visions are being shown to Sora rather Sora is literally remembering these scenes himself and equating them to what he feels right now in his own situation. He jerks up, which causes Kairi to be confused bc she simply can’t know what’s up with Sora’s reaction even if she is able to somehow show these visions herself. She checks to see if Sora’s okay and when she sees that he is, she states, “I told you Sora. You’re safe with me”. 

If what was really meant was that “Riku is the light in the tunnel -> Riku’s light embodies Riku’s self sacrifice, which in turn causes Sora to connect it with his own memories in the Disney worlds” then that’s a different thing and totally valid but was not presented that way in the doc. I also feel that Sora isn’t confused rather in a state of realization and coming back to reality after these visions, which explains why he’s a bit shaken up/disoriented at first with his “Ooh”. Regardless of whose light it is, I firmly believe it is Sora making these connections for himself and not the light showing them for him. Bc of this interpretation, the theory that “Kairi is the light” or “Riku is the light” is not necessarily disproven or illogical on the basis that neither one has been there to experience these Disney scenes. This is different from when the light shows Kairi’s Radiant Garden memories to Sora and is not a perfect parallel but does not need to be.

All in all, Riku’s love for Sora is integral to understand the sacrifices made to facilitate the “drops” and bring everyone to a new worldline, but I personally feel that this specific analysis of Kairi and Sora’s scene does not need to be presented in a way that makes Kairi seem like a misleading device for both Sora and the audience to realize Riku’s love/light. There is no need to disregard Kairi and Sora’s potential connection with the Disney scenes rather than simply show that these scenes are strongly attributed to Riku. There is no need to treat Sora as if he cannot or doesn’t accurately conclude what light means for himself.

I hope my criticism for this specific section does not come off as mean-spirited and I do not want this to be a playground to incite s/hipping wars either bc it’s not even about ships. To make it extremely clear, my criticism does not have to do with ships NOR do I think the theory doc is trying to force a ship onto people either. The word “love” can be interpreted however way you want: romantic, platonic, whatever. I do think that the writers were a bit too quick to dismiss Kairi as the light in this scene and that there was an over emphasis towards Riku in a scene meant to establish Kairi’s importance and I wanted to address that. If it is misreading on my part, feel free to discuss! I don’t want to put words into other people’s mouths. I am open to critique too. This one criticism doesn’t negate all the other interesting insights the doc makes. The doc as a whole is an interesting read and I offer nothing but support and thanks to those involved in the process. 

And who knows, maybe Nomura will come out and confirm that this portion of the doc is right! Then jokes on me but until then, I believe this criticism holds fair.

[ipraygreywords]

Slayers Week 2 Day 2: Villains

But is he really? 

 “I am both better and worse than you thought” (Sylvia Plath). 

Of all the many characters for whom I have written, none is more difficult to pinpoint than Rezo, in this particular regard.  This is the man who heals stray kittens for little boys when nobody is looking, who devoted 150 years of life to traveling nonstop and healing hundreds of thousands of people of illness, but also steals another preteen boy’s body for the chance to cure his own blindness.  See what I mean?

My ultimate conclusion is that Rezo is a good person who has had to compensate for personal impediments using opportunistic means, and because Rezo was never fully in control of Rezo’s own judgment or Rezo’s own choices, these actions became increasingly abhorrent in the two to three years before his death: but he still did a great deal of good in his life, and, were he to live free of that influence, he would be unequivocally good. That is WHY he was chosen to be corrupted.  Bad people attack symbols of goodness to demoralize their enemies.  But let me back up. Because woosh. This is a complex topic.  

Sussing out Rezo’s moral alignment is difficult because Rezo, as we see him in canon, never does anything without the powerful, corrupting presence of a ma-oh (the strongest tier of demon in all his world, one of only four in the universe, who are eclipsed by only one other being) which was affixed to his soul from birth.  This ma-oh (the mouthful name of “Ruby-Eyed Shabranigdu”) chose Rezo intentionally as a vessel, from which he hoped to eventually be resurrected (in the process, killing Rezo–a fact which alone is intriguing, because Shabranigdu has done this before to other humans, who survived his resurrected and far more comfortably cohabited with him).  So when one analyzes Rezo’s actions as a human being, one always has to try and separate out Shabranigdu’s manipulations from Rezo’s natural inclinations. Let’s get a couple (overly simplistic, imho) anti arguments out of the way first:

–People who dislike Rezo often point out that Shabranigdu picked Rezo because he saw vulnerabilities that he could exploit to the point of serious moral corruption.  That means it was possible to break Rezo: but I–and Lina Inverse, the chief protagonist of the Slayers series–believe that still doesn’t condemn Rezo as a “bad” or “weak” person. It just means that Shabranigdu, who is a master manipulator, could find a strategy with which to erode Rezo’s will. I also believe that because Rezo was born with a famously powerful capacity for white/healing magic, and a demonstrable urge to serve others in ways that could not possibly benefit him, Shabranigdu thought it would be perversely hilarious to target a cleric: a person in whom people placed their trust, to have their best interests at heart, and to make them well. (Shabranigdu’s main goal is to wreak despair and violence on the world, and return it to a state of chaos, so why not take down a few more people beyond Rezo, ruin their faith in the benevolence of their healers, while he’s at it? But I’ll get to this more later.)

–People who dislike Rezo also often assume that Shabranigdu was the cause of Rezo’s eyes being sealed shut, causing him “blindness,” from birth. Why is this important to your question? Because when we analyze the series more closely, it becomes clear that Rezo’s eyes are a protective seal AGAINST Shabranigdu’s resurrection, which means that the ma-oh cannot complete his resurrection unless Rezo opens his eyes (we see this both in Slayers Season One and in Slayers Evolution-R).  When Rezo was born, his eyes acted as a failsafe shielding the world FROM Shabranigdu.  Shabranigdu had to act against that failsafe to be reborn.  So Shabranigdu turned the VIRTUE of the sealed-shut eyes into a HANDICAP which embarrassed, discouraged, and isolated Rezo, because he could cure everyone else with his amazing healing skills, but not himself (and even a saint must eventually feel jealousy and resentment from that)–such that EVEN THE THING THAT MADE HIM FAMOUS, AND GOOD, AND LOVED BY OTHERS, BECAME A SYMBOL OF “BUT NOT YOU: YOU DON’T GET TO BE HAPPY LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. NEVER YOU.”  A person who is depressed and angry and alone is much easier to break.  See below.  

–People who dislike Rezo almost always cite what he did to his own grandson Zelgadis as the most condemnation-worthy “evidence” that he is rotten to the core. While there is NO EXCUSING WHAT HE DID, and I will NEVER think what he did is okay, I could not disagree with these individuals more.  Rezo is capable of forming and maintaining loving attachments; in the end, Shabranigdu USES precisely those loving attachments to isolate Rezo, by perverting their purity, and breaking his loved ones WITH HIS OWN HANDS. What better way to demoralize a good person than to make them SEEM to choose being a monster?  There are actual contemporary scientific studies that prove that one of the best ways to torture prisoners of war is to make them torture others. It dehumanizes them, renders them weapons, and lowers their resolve to fight back. This is what happened when Rezo took Zelgadis’s words “we need to do small evils for great good, and get stronger” and twisted them into an excuse to make Zelgadis a chimera–effectively alienating Zelgadis from the world just as Shabrranigdu had Rezo–as part of his research to cure his own eyes.   (People reading this who have the “but he knew Zel could never be cured, and Evo-R proves that!” rebuttal, let me know, because I have a whole separate meta theory on that, which does not exonerate Rezo, but does cast serious doubt on the allegation that the chimera process can never be reversed).   –Rezo does terrible evils (the other big whoppers are creating and experimenting on a clone of himself, and deliberately spreading a disease to an isolated kingdom to take advantage of its ill as test subjects).  But, and while this isn’t a make it or break it thing, he lso more than once shows genuine contrition for the evil he has done, when it will benefit him in no way to do so. This is rare, and sometimes it is on the tail end of a lot of emotionally manipulative bargaining and self-justification (borne primarily of pride), but he has either apologized or openly acknowledged that his choices were evil and unconscionable, on both the occasions that he was confronted by the heroes for his choices. –People who dislike Rezo like to say “he only started his white magical career to try and heal his own eyes!” to which I answer: yes, and? The subsequent entire life he spent healing people while continuing to master other magics to heal himself were not mandatory. No one was forcing Rezo to share his findings with others.  That was an act of selflessness.   –Both times that Shabranigdu is reborn out of Rezo (which…rips apart his body, fun times) and he realizes it, he helps the heroes kill Shabranigdu, and without him they would have failed to do so.  Which. You know. BIG INDICATION that he’s not, at heart, a bad guy lol. –Rezo plans ahead to try to do damage control for potential collateral, when he does selfish and reckless things.  It’s usually not enough, and he puts new meaning to the word “quixotic.”  But it still matters for the purposes of your question. For instance, when he finally breaks down and chooses to resurrect Shabranigdu, he plans to create an arguably evenly-matched creature called a “Zanaffar” with which to kill the demon the moment he gains vision.  He also creates laboratories deep underground so that explosions can be contained and do less damage to the surrounding area.  He also thinks (wrongly) that he can heal all the people in Taforashia before they die, once he can see.    Rezo’s fatal flaw in all these cases is to assume, out of desperation, that he is capable of more than any one human being ever could be.  

Which is not good or evil, really, but HUMAN: pulling us back toward a consistent, perennial theme of Slayers, that humans are flawed but redeemable creatures, neither gods nor demons, who exist to maintain the *balance* of the cosmos (the true plan, according to Xelloss, of the most powerful of all beings, referred to as LoN).  

–People expect too much of Rezo, which I think was a genuine, conscious point the Slayers writers wanted to make.  

It doesn’t excuse anything he did that was evil.  At the same time, there are two ways to dehumanize a person. One is to vilify them.

The other is to idolize them.   Zelgadis idolized Rezo. Eris idolized Rezo.  Pokota idolized Rezo.  And Rezo took advantage of that, and that’s wrong. But think about that for a moment. It is wrong, on a moral level, to idolize a living person, and expect god-tier ethical purity at all times and under all forms of pressure.  It is wrong, and it is hurtful.  Sometimes it’s done out of naivety, sometimes emotional codependence, but in any case, it is wrong. I speak here from painful experience on the receiving end of idolization. It exerts impossible pressure on a person. And it is scary.  

Hundreds of thousands of sick and disabled people idolized Rezo. They built statues and made paintings of him. They installed him as one of the “Five Great Sages”–literally the most revered of magical users/scholars of ALL RECORDED HISTORY.  They threw so much money at him that he owned “several” mansions by the time of his death.  Rezo was good at maintaining the facade of authoritative serenity. But my God, was it ever that: a facade.  He was tired, angry, and afraid: so afraid that he once told his servant Ozel, in strictest confidence, knowing she would tell no one else, and in a tone of deep depression,  “Sometimes I lose my sense of what it is to be a person.”  

And don’t we all know the feeling, when we too are at a crossroads?  Isn’t that HUMAN?

I genuinely believe the Slayers writers wanted the audience to sort of meta-replicate the feelings of Rezo’s disciples, and expect Rezo to be a saint, and then be horrified and angry when his worst actions proved seriously otherwise. And then by the end of the story, I think they were meant to realize, this was just a guy. This was just a guy who had the rough equivalent of Satan possessing his body and soul, a guy who was meant to be a healer but had his whole life rendered a farce because of his own soul’s attempt to keep a monster sealed inside.  Rezo became a living prison for a demon, and he could not contain it. No one, in fact, who has served as the vessel of Shabranigdu has been able, ultimately, to resist him.  

[the-house-of-the-nine]

In Depths Below, Masquerade, Part 10

[Part 10, The Conclusion!, There has been blood and there will be death. ]

If you’re enjoying this, please!!! like and share!!! to your friends!!!! Help us to reach new faces,readers & writers!

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[We’ve been so blessed to have help from this fantastic community here, every single one of you have helped us in so many ways!  And feel free to send anonymous ASKS if you are curious about writing with us!  We absolutely welcome new faces!   Without further delay….]

“No!” she snapped, peering toward the collective group.  “Do NOT stop until I get what I am here for. . .”

She turned and suddenly; without warning, her hands coiled under his bloodied collar and she jerked him upward to look at him.  Her eyes began to swirl in a purple haze.

“What are you talking about?  How do you know me? Answer!” she said again, though much more loud and by shaking him several times.

“I speak of your history. . .I was. . .” he said being jerked back and forth. “I was the one in charge of your recovery after the fall of the Sunwell. I found you, coiled in the arms of your mother when the Scourge had broken through the gates of our city.  You were helplessly clinging to her. . . I snatched you up, she was still alive and begged me to take her.  But I knew I could not save you both. . .”

Vari slowly turned; by now she had calmed, but her eyes narrowed at the discovery.  Koltun already knew to step between her and the table lest she leap and body slam him through it.  The demons clawed hands were holding her back.  She was wide eyed, and as in shock as Siida.  This man, this. . .pathetic being, he was so closely tied to their history.  But how?

“I left her to die. . . used her as bait to lure them. . .to get away and save us both, stealing you away and hoping to better your life.  The recovery process was your memory wipe and barricade.  We wanted to block the memory of your past; and place you with a wealthy house to help educate and further your success. . . I had no idea you had a living heir. . . “

Dawnseeker struggled to stay upright, but slowly he would be lowered back to the table as Siida’s strength waned.

She was in shock now.  Her eyes were fully coated in the void she had tried so hard to keep buried down inside.  Her jaw was tight, teeth clenched together while she clung to his collar.  The words had entered her mind but she could almost not believe it.  It was him, all along.  He was the link between them all.

“Siida. . .” Marseille said softly as he tried to connect to her, his hands were still locked holding the spell. “Sennaris, enough. . .”

Both Verzatea and Sennaris had already begin to transfer their energies back to themselves when the spell around them started to drop.  As the group felt the veil that was surrounding them lift, Marseille too would be able to drop his hands from channeling. But it was too late.

Before he could step beside her, Siida had already lost her control.

Her eyes burst into a violet flame that had caused her flesh and hair to turn near pale white.  She coiled her fingers around the neck of the Magister and had climbed nearly on top of him.  The fury that had built up over the years of her life.  The abuse and neglect she suffered living in a house that knew she was nothing more than an orphan.  The pain of having to live alone.  Having to find her brother and sister; this family, only to have it almost ripped away.

She screamed, and a sudden burst of violet fire had sent the group hurdling backward from its recoil.  She was seething and dripping with dark magics that seemed to be burning holes in the table and floor the longer she held it.  Dawnseeker was all but lost to this, his head rolling backward and his body going limp.  Siida was enraged beyond control and belted out another banshee wail, much like her older sister.

The burning void energy began to peel bits of flesh from the Magister as he lay there helpless to defend himself.  Verzatea and Marseille were working hand in hand to protect the group, sheltering them with a shield of sorts which was more or less their only defense against this type of anger filled magic.

She continued to scream and shake, her body convulsing while she abused the helpless man with fury.  

“You took everything from me!”

“I should have died beside my mother but instead you took her from me!   You took my brother, and my safety. . . You took everything!”  the pain behind those words caused the eyes of the fel user to come to life.  Had he finally met his end?

Siida charged one final time and with as much force as she could muster, ignited her ability to its full potential and instantly vaporized the man.  He was burned from head to toe, and so heavily that the second wave had caused his insides to begin to boil.

She wailed harder and harder which she charged up the suppressed anger, and in a third and final pulse, shattered him from the inside out, and left him as a stain of particles and dust, scattered across the table.

She would have probably continue to assault the world in her fury, until a plated hand fell across her shoulder.  It dawned instantly on her who would be so bold as to brave the painful burning of her inner flames; and she turned.  

Vari was standing there, taking on whatever remained of her anger; her stern eyes and stoic expression suddenly eclipsed her mind and caused that wave of anger to instantly vanish.   She had lost.  Everything became terrifying in the wake of such a violent onslaught, and she dove into Vari’s chest and collapsed in tears.

The rest of them could hardly remain doing anything else but staring.   Watching the two sisters grieve not only on the loss of what they had fought so hard to find; but the procurement of knowledge they’d both hoped to sooner forget.  The entire time they’d know one another and neither had a more clear picture of the future than this simple greedy man, who now was a stain of dust.

Verzatea and Sennaris both held their heads high, while Zoei lowered her own gaze.  She still felt guilt over what had happened; the reveal of everything that had built up to this very moment causing her to hitch a breath in her chest.  She turned suddenly and peered out the large windows leading to the bay.  Fireworks still launched high into the air; the guards of Honeywell still insisting nobody return.  They had been successful yet again; but not without a cost.

The three powerful women rallied together and without another glance; would hurry to make a hasty exit from the blood drenched party room.  There was nothing left for any of them here.

Whistletorque had sauntered back over to his contraption, and without another word; the button on the left side would deactivate the still turning record player which skipped, the turret that spun and the band that moved.  It collapsed everything under the stage and folded itself down into a neat and convenient suitcase which was promptly gathered.

The two sisters shared a wordless embrace before quietly turning and making their way from their own stage.  Vari quick to gather the talisman of her fallen brother from the pile of ash that lay where Dawnseeker once was.  Koltun would follow in suit; the demon sending a clawed fist into the door frame as they passed; cracking it on contact.

Marseille would be the last and was quick to begin staging the scene to look as though there had been a murder.  His deft mind and hands working in unison. He would gather whatever evidence he found would be incriminating, and hurried to tidy up any sign they would have been there.  But it would be Sunwood who was plucked from the group before he could attempt to exit.

“Where are you going?”  he asked softly, his fingers still curled around his collar as he drug him back.

“W-what. . .what do you mean, I am leaving with the rest of you all. . .” the portly man suggested as he peered into the white burning eyes of the pale old elf.

His response to that was a resounding no, but silent, and in the form of his shaking head.

“No. . .I’m. . n-not going with you?” he mumbled as his body turned to face Marseille.

“No.”  he said this time. “You are going to remain here and play the part you needed for.  The part you were born to play.”

Sunwood suddenly felt his eyes widen, his body running cool and chilled yet a warmth spilled over his flesh and ran down his chest causing him to open his mouth wide to speak, though the words never came out.

Marseille was holding a broken piece of mirrored glass that had been shattered during the onslaught.  The old elf was painted crimson across his face and neck; bleeding down onto his chest where the fresh burn mark had scarred him.  His hand was bloody and lowering the weapon; it was conveniently vaporized in his palm as a charge of arcane energy swirled around it.

“You will live.  You will be the martyr that allows the masses to see the monster that has fled from this place, and must be stopped.”

Marseille slowly lowered the bleeding man from his standing position and placed him on the floor by the slaughtered remains of the other Magisters.

“You will never utter a single word for as long as you live; but your scars will be a reminder to the world that you were but a pawn in a game that was far too high over your head.”  the Shaldorei continued by cleaning up the dust piles and using his energy to finish them to the smallest of particles.

“Dawnseeker did this. . . and upon killing them, spared you for bringing him what it was he needed most.  And in time; Siida Ray Kash’ebahl will return a hero to Silvermoon City, when she resurfaces from the clutches of the madman behind the Honeywell Masquerade Massacre.  You. . . will continue to be our eyes and ears; for that is all you are good for anymore.  The agreement. . .stands as is.”

Marseille peered down at the wide eyed Magister. Everything that had happened up until this point; he knew he would not get out of this unscathed.  But life was worth living as long as his family was safe.  He would have no choice but to play along; he knew what these people were capable of.

“Magister Sunwood. . . it would please me greatly if this incident remained between us.  You have been most valuable to my Master despite his apparent demise.  Do not. . . forget that I am always watching.”  

And with that, the last member of the Order would make his way toward the exit of the bloodied pavilion.  His white hot eyes glazing over a softened pink hue as his body began to mellow and calm.

Soon the guests would return to their party and find a not so welcome affair had taken place.  Rumors would spread and the masses would gather; knights and the higher authority would be called into action.  And a manhunt to locate the rogue apostate mage Dawnseeker would commence.  But they would never find him; they would never locate his body.  All they would find were the bodies of his victims; the witness and hope that one poor Siida-Ray Kash’ebahl would not meet the same fate as her fellow party goers.  

As for The Nine, they would return to their hallowed bastion.  Lick their wounds and prepare for the ceremonious burial of their brother, their friend, of their lover and confidant.  Now was not the time to waste on sentiment, they would have to gather behind the support of one another and press on, otherwise it would be more than just one life lost in this tragic affair.....

To be completed:  “In Depths Below: Epilogue, Part 1″

@siidaraykashebahl

@whatadarkbitch

@zandalaridruidofgonk

@suncrest-legacy

@madame-miersae  (just so you dont miss it lol)

@pyravari-kashebahl

@thebladeitself

[meditationadvise]

7 Ways To Tap Into The Power Of The New Moon In Pisces and The Solar Eclipse

Calling all alarms, mermaids and water children! Tonight's brand-new moon in charming, angelic Pisces-- the watery sign of the fish-- brings a flooding of caring and also healing power to planet earth.

The 2015 Pisces new moon is specifically powerful, as it's both a supermoon (implying it goes to its closest indicate the earth, appearing especially big from our perspective) and a complete solar eclipse. Eclipses move into bring abrupt modifications and reinventions, so welcome the brand-new (as well as the unanticipated).

This eclipse will likewise begin the 2015 spring equinox. Quickly after this potent site opens, the zodiac will reset as well as the Sunlight will relocate right into Aries. Discuss a cosmically billed day!

Pisces is ruled by Neptune, earth of the subconscious as well as impressions. Life is however a desire under its trippy yet magical spell. Yet hey, it can be fun when things go differently compared to intended-- once we stop battling the circulation.

Today's Pisces new moon offers the ideal possibility to concern, well, just about every presumption we have actually ever made.

Magic is feasible today, so here are a few means you can shift some particles in deep space by taking advantage of the power of the Pisces brand-new moon:

1. Suspend all beliefs.

We've heard informed individuals (and also would-be informed folks, like us) recommend that 'reality' is a made-up concept, subject to interpretation. You understand, there may simply be something to that.

Albert Einstein, whose concept of relativity turned our idea of reality on its head, was a Pisces. Today's brand-new moon motivates us to wonder about direct ideas like distance and also time. Ever notice that when you're tired, an hour seems like a lifetime-- however when you're 'in the area,' it flies by means too swiftly?

Or, as we have actually listened to people state, the President of the United States has the same 24 hours in his day as you do. The Pisces new moon triggers us to shift into quantum thinking, where time is a lot more flexible than fixed-- and could be curved at our will.

One of our preferred (and also most absorbable) publications on the quantum realm is Dr. Joe Dispenza's Breaking the Routine of Being Yourself: Just how To Lose Your Mind as well as Create a Brand-new One. The Pisces brand-new moon pushes us to think about that possibly-- simply maybe-- what we THINK we know isn't the only possibility.

2. Welcome the unexpected.

To be human is to be a control fanatic. Pisces is the sign of abandonment and release. Under the spell of this user-friendly indicator, we would certainly all do well to hand the symbolic reigns to the world-- which might have a much better plan compared to the one our temporal minds can create.

When things take a U-turn or drift off onto an unchartered path, attempt not to go crazy. Instead say, 'Hmmm ... I question exactly what I'm expected to pick up from this modification of occasions?' Allow your inquisitiveness lead, instead compared to your stress and anxiety. Quit, listen and also connect into the flow. You're being directed, so pay attention up!

3. Take into consideration the concept of the 'afterlife.'

Pisces is the zodiac's twelfth and also final indication, which is why so several people birthed under this indication are 'old hearts,' with a strong link to the various other side. Pisces is additionally related to reincarnation and also the immortality.

Another publication that's made a huge effect on us and aided us via some awful circumstances is Anita Moorjani's Dying To Be Me: My Trip from Cancer, to Near Death, to Real Healing. Moorjani's whole body was surpassed by cancer and also she fought the illness for four years. On her expected deathbed, she had a near-death experience where she recognized her worth as a human being which old, unconscious worry, went to the origin of her cancer.

During this experience, she experienced pure entirety and love, remaining in multiple locations simultaneously, and also a state of liberty that she defines in poetic information. After restoring awareness, Moorjani's health and wellness made a remarkable turn-around as well as she was launched from the healthcare facility weeks later on without a solitary trace of cancer cells in her body. Moorjani is a Pisces, remarkably enough! Her tale is medically documented. It's an incredible book that can make you rethink exactly what you understand about disease, healing, life as well as death.

If you're dealing with the passing of an enjoyed one, the site ModernLoss.com additionally uses a broad swath of individuals's experiences dealing with pain, death and also passing away in today's world. At the Pisces new moon, a fresh viewpoint on all these matters could actually go far.

4. Live your life as a work of art.

What if you pertained to every little thing you do-- from brushing your hair to creating an email-- as a job of art? Visualize just what type of honor, dignity and also divinity you would certainly bring to every minute of your life? You would exist in a true state of elegance. Right here's a Pisces brand-new moon idea: try this as an experiment for two weeks-- leading up to the Virgo complete moon on March 16-- and also see just how your experience of life shifts.

Need a push? Obtain inspired by musician extraordinaire Michaelangelo-- a Pisces birthed March 6, 1475. He spent four years painting the amazing ceiling of the Sistine Church, which is one of the 7 wonders of the world. Throughout his life time, Michaelangelo was referred to as Il Divino (' the magnificent one'). How extremely Piscean, since the shroud in between the earthly as well as the divine is thinned by Pisces' beautiful impact. What spirit or force owned him to such quality? Get your very own version of the symbolic paintbrush and learn.

5. Don't hate, meditate.

Pisces rules the subconscious, as well as brain researchers all over are discovering surprising benefits of having a tendency to your own through reflection. While the concept can seem intimidating (is another person's 'OM' more high-vibe compared to your own?) or bothersome (you desire me to rest still for how long?), you don't have to escape to a 10-day quiet hideaway to achieve the stunning health and wellness advantages.

From decreasing your blood pressure to enhancing your empathy to minimizing stomach fat, health advocates are rallying us to 'practice meditation, not medicate.' Why not begin, or re-start, this attesting practice today? With alternative Pisces in the lunar house, everything starts with one deep and conscious breath.

Meditation simply needs you to sit still and understand your breath, also for a couple of short minutes (this wonderful overview of reflection for non-meditators discusses it well). Personally, we such as using led reflections, like the ones from our friend Terri Cole, as well as the Oprah-Deepak Chopra series.

6. Take a creativity vacation.

When was the last time you misplaced a couple of hrs as well as simply allow on your own follow your impulses? Daydreamer Pisces encourages you to ride a divinely-inspired wave.

Whether that means playing with a music tool or watercolors, having an unscripted dance party for one, or roaming via stores examining out scents, bespoke bags and also lust-worthy shoes (glamorous Pisces guidelines the feet, after all), the Pisces brand-new moon urges you to adhere to the muse.

7. Take advantage of the tidy water movement.

Pisces rules the seas and seas, as well as this eclipse can highlight the should safeguard and share our earth's water. Numerous children around the globe have little to no accessibility to risk-free, clean alcohol consumption water.

At the Pisces brand-new moon, check out philanthropic efforts to alter that, like UNICEF's Faucet Project, which challenges individuals to abandon mobile phone use to unlock tidy water gain access to, or by beginning your own CharityWater campaign. You can also get involved with regional or regional efforts to save water and also shield our earth's jeopardized supply. Below more than 100 means to do that. For a mind-blowing glimpse of the battle for water (and the impact of business greed), examine out the documentary 'Blue Gold: World Water Wars.'

[dipulb3]

2021 Chevy Colorado ZR2 review: A rough-and-tumble midsize truck

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2021 Chevy Colorado ZR2 review: A rough-and-tumble midsize truck

Not everyone loves the Colorado ZR2’s updated grille, but it’s certainly more aggressive than before.

Craig Cole/Roadshow

The Chevrolet Colorado is an oldie but a goodie. Yeah, this midsize truck feels outdated, but despite a few deficits here and there it remains a solid option in a segment rife with less-than-stellar competitors. If you need enhanced off-road capability or the open-bed hauling convenience only a pickup truck can offer, but don’t want or need a full-size rig, this Chevy is a decent choice.

Like

Manageable dimensions

Decent performance

Off-road hardware

Don’t Like

Full-size pickup fuel economy

V6 could be smoother

Annoying rock rails

To keep things fresh, the Colorado received a few enhancements for 2021. Mainline models gain a reworked — and arguably more handsome — front end, an 8-inch infotainment screen is standard on the LT trim and higher and 17-inch wheels are now included at no extra charge. The off-road-ready ZR2 model features similar improvements, though its face is noticeably more aggressive, looking somewhat like the boxy Silverado 1500’s prow, for better or worse. Finally, three new exterior colors are available across the range including Cherry Red Tintcoat, which is what you see here.

What sets the ZR2 apart from lesser Colorados is its off-road hardware. The suspension benefits from a 2-inch lift and the track, both front and rear, is 3.5 inches wider. Keeping things under control while bombing through the desert, clambering over boulders or just cruising your local Home Depot parking lot is a set of Multimatic Dynamic Suspensions Spool Valve dampers. These shocks help manage the Colorado ZR2’s starchy springs, which deliver a firm on-road ride. While the truck laughs at pothole impacts and large bumps, you feel practically every expansion joint on the highway. Its Goodyear Wrangler Duratrac tires are mounted on stylish, multicolor 17-inch wheels and should provide ample grip while trail-bashing, even if they broadcast plenty of noise on pavement.

The Colorado is offered with three different engines, two of which are available in the ZR2. This example features the 3.6-liter gasoline V6, which cranks out 308 horsepower and 275 pound-feet of torque. For all you compression-ignition aficionados out there, a 2.8-liter Duramax diesel is offered. Lower-trim Colorados can be had with a four-cylinder gasoline engine, though it’s probably best to avoid this malnourished option. Matched to a quick-witted and polished eight-speed automatic transmission, the V6 has no trouble moving this midsize truck with reasonable authority. The turbocharged Ford Ranger may have more low-end grunt and a Honda Ridgeline’s V6 might be smoother, but this Chevy’s engine gets the job done with little fanfare.

The Colorado may be more maneuverable than a full-size truck, but it’s no more efficient. As it sits, this example is rated at 16 miles per gallon in the city and 18 mpg highway. Combined, it should return 17 mpg, a figure I topped by about 0.4 mpg in real-world driving. It’s always great when you can exceed a vehicle’s combined fuel-economy rating without even trying, though this Chevy should probably be more efficient than it is. I mean, a Silverado 1500 TrailBoss with the top-dog 6.2-liter V8 has the same combined fuel economy score and it even beats the Colorado on the highway, returning an advertised 19 mpg. What’s the point of getting a midsize truck if a traditional half-ton is more economical?

It can feel a little buzzy at times, but this 3.6-liter V6 engine gets the job done.

Craig Cole/Roadshow

If you tow or haul significant loads on the reg, you’ll probably also want a burlier truck than this Chevy. The Colorado ZR2’s maximum payload rating is just 1,350 pounds and it can only drag up to 5,000 pounds. The Ranger and Jeep Gladiator’s peak figures easily eclipse the Chevy’s — hell, the car-based Ridgeline can haul 233 pounds more, even if its towing capacity is the same. It is worth noting, however, that non-ZR2 Colorados are more capable. Their maximum payload rating is a more-competitive 1,550 pounds and they can tow up to 7,700 pounds when fitted with the diesel engine.

When it’s time to go trail-bashing, the ZR2 has a leg up over all of its midsize rivals except, perhaps, the Gladiator. Locking differentials front and rear help it get out of tough situations. It’s also graced with plenty of underbody shielding and other features like hill-descent control. Rock rails along each sill are great for protecting the body from jagged terrain, though coupled with that elevated ride height they make getting into and out of this truck challenging if you don’t want to soil your pant legs with dirt or mud. A pair of bright red recovery hooks punctuates the ZR2’s front end and is at the ready should you get in too deep while off-roading.

The ZR2 is available with a variety of appearance-enhancing options groups, but if additional capability is what you crave, consider the $5,750 Bison package. This upgrade turns an already capable truck into a real mountain goat. It gets you a bunch of kit from American Expedition Vehicles including a special front bumper with provisions to mount a winch, boron-steel skid plates for added underbody protection, unique fender flares, special 17-inch wheels and more.

The Colorado’s interior is a no-frills zone.

Craig Cole/Roadshow

The Chevy Colorado’s fundamentals are mostly impressive, but its interior and tech are what bely its advanced age. For better or worse, this truck’s interior is basically the same as it was five or six years ago, which means you get plenty of so-so hard plastics and leather that feels more like vinyl than anything shucked off a living creature. The dashboard’s overall layout is also as conservative as a Southern Baptist, with no frills or interesting design flourishes to be had. The advantage of this simple, honest layout, however, is that all the secondary buttons and knobs are easy to reach and see, with the climate controls being mounted up high and the seat-heater switches in an obvious place.

The Colorado is comfortable, with the front chairs adjusting nicely to accommodate taller folks, even if the cushions are quite flat. The crew-cab body’s rear bench seat is a bit on the upright side, par for the midsize-truck course, but it can fit a couple of 6-foot-tall adults without much trouble. The lower cushions also flip up, revealing a storage cubby for stashing things away from prying eyes.

These Multimatic dampers help make the ZR2 model an accomplished off-roader.

Craig Cole/Roadshow

Like its overall interior design, this truck’s tech is behind the times. Sure, my tester’s 8-inch dashboard screen is nice enough, home to a speedy and clean infotainment system that’s a pleasure to use, but integrated navigation costs an additional $995, even on the high-end ZR2 model. Fortunately, if you don’t feel like shelling out an extra grand of hard-earned scratch, Apple CarPlay and Android Auto are ready, willing and standard across the board.

But no matter how much you spend, you cannot get push-button start in this truck. Instead, every Colorado comes with an old-fashioned stick-and-twist key. For you kids that aren’t familiar, you take a thin piece of metal, jab it into a receptacle on the steering column and turn it to fire the engine up. Similarly, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic alert and lane centering are not offered, but at least keyless entry is available on even the most-basic Work Truck model, and you can get the Colorado with remote start.

Despite its years, the Colorado is still a good midsize truck.

Craig Cole/Roadshow

Speaking of money, a base, rear-wheel-drive version of this truck with the four-cylinder engine starts at 26 grand and change. With many more features and a crew-cab body, the Colorado ZR2 tested here checks out for a much-steeper $44,890, including $1,195 in destination fees. The sole option padding that figure is the paint job, which costs $495.

The Chevy Colorado’s gray hairs are certainly showing, but despite its age, this truck remains a good option — one I prefer in some ways to the Ranger and Gladiator. For general-purpose use, the Honda Ridgeline is still the best all-around midsize pickup in my humble opinion, but if you want something with more rugged looks and a lot more off-road capability, the ZR2 could fit the bill.

[rainystripe]

Ok, this LONG AU!!! ITS HEARTBREAKING SO I NEEDED IT FOR BUGHEAD. The drama the au is based off is called: Moon Lovers or Scarlet Heart.

A solar eclipse sends a drowning Betty Cooper into the past after slipping into Sweetwater River. When she comes to, she finds a world that’s not hers. She’s in a Victorian time, in another body which resembles her own. She’s the niece of a noble woman named Veronica. Veronica is Prince Archibald’s wife. The prince becomes smitten by the ‘new’ Elizabeth, having not noticed her before. This Elizabeth is more outgoing and speaks her mind, something new to them. Thinking that she’s got a concussion, they just go along with her antics.

While the flirting in a new land with a handsome prince, Elizabeth notices the competive, backstabbing nature of the royal world. Forsythe enters the picture. A lone wolf who becomes interested in the outspoken Elizabeth. While they butt heads in the beginning, they soon form a close friendship. Forsythe is the adopted son to King Fredward Andrews. He’s never been fully accepted by Queen Penelope. After being bullied and sent away for most of his teenage years, he finally returns. Known to have a bad reputation as the Serpent from the South: the Southside Serpent, ‘Jughead’ feels out of place in the palace. He’s quiet and likes to keep to himself, but around Betty he loosens up. A connection is quickly established as a budding romantic one. It takes her a while to fall for him, but when she does, everything goes south.

Elizabeth is forced to marry king Fredward Andrews in order to obtain peace with the Lodges who essentially own Elizabeth, so in hopes of keeping their ties without starting a war, Lord Hiram offers Betty up for marriage. In an attempt to stop the impending arrangement, she attempts suicide. That stops the engagement and King Andrews is impressed by her determination and as acting father of Forsythe, allows for them to marry. King Freward soon becomes ill and passes, Forsythe is chosen as the next king. More drama arises and while Forsythe and Elizabeth still love each other, Princess Cheryl: sister to Archibald and Jason, vows to marry Forsythe to become the next queen.

The backstabbing continues, and Elizabeth deals with the winter death of Veronica. Prince Archibald comes to realize how much Veronica loved him and how he was blinded by Elizabeth. And while not agreeing with Forsythe becoming the next king, he plots his death. Cheryl plants seeds in his head, wanting to become queen in the end if he wins and she marries him. (Penelope already had Jason and Cheryl with Lord Clifford before his passing.)

Forsythe on the other hand, is struggling with the sudden power. The royal duties are not for him and he just wants to run away with future wife ‘Betty’. Everyone is against him (Penelope especially, who keeps plotting against him) and the land and it’s people are afraid of him. He’s a wise king however.

Betty and Forsythe are madly in love and sneak out to ride horses, attend village festivals and have a lovers trip where they make love for the first time.

Forsythe is continuously impressed by Elizabeth. Her ways and mannerism are ahead of his time and he finds it amusing when she celebrates his birthday, a day that he’s come to despise. She even sings him a modern celebratory song which melts his heart. Betty (as she likes to go by) is doing her best to adapt to the time. She has to learn how to act, speak and read to assimilate to Victorian culture. Making teas are important for a lady and she specifically focuses on coffee which is Forsythe’s favorite.

Smitten and in love, when the time comes to marry, Cheryl blackmails her. With thoughts in her head that she’ll never be perfect queen material, Betty sits in her room, fingering her once to be wedding gown just as the wedding bells go off, signaling the marriage between King Forsythe and Queen Cheryl.

While married to Cheryl, Forsythe ignores her completely, acting as if she doesn’t exist. Staying true to Betty proves to be difficult as their relationship is strained yet again. In a last attempt to make her his, he offers to make her his concubine. While it’s not the best thing in the world, she accepts. Their relationship continues to falter. Elizabeth takes writing up as a hobby, essentially publishing her first ever ‘novel’.

The power that he despised, the royal tittle that ruined his life, makes his way into his head and King Forsythe becomes aware of the power that he holds.

Lady Elizabeth soon becomes sick, and when she finally decides to leave King Forsythe, she finds out that she’s pregnant. She ends up leaving the palace to live with Lord Kevin. Thinking that she’s left him and while at his worst time (mental health wise and too much stress loaded on a broken heart), King Forsythe vows to let Elizabeth live a happy life with her new lover. Homosexuality is highly taboo and in order to live in peace, Lord Kevin lets his best friend, Lady Elizabeth live with him to mask his relationship with Joaquin Santos, an ex-bandit.

Betty’s health deteriorates quickly and she becomes weak. She begins to write letters to the king, proclaiming her never ending love for him. She writes him about her pregnancy (one which he learns from a spy. Cheryl convinced him it’s Kevin’s) Lord Kevin makes sure to send them to the palace as soon as they’re finished. He even goes himself. Betty writes letters everyday for 10 months leading up to when she gives birth. She gets to enjoy motherhood for a few days, and before Lord Kevin realizes it, Betty passes away in his arms as they listen to a violinist play a beautiful version of the happy birthday song that the king came to fall in love with. A song which was rumored to be sung to him by the woman who stole his heart.

After Betty’s passing, Lord Kevin barges into the palace, causing a ruckus to grab the kings attention. When they confront one another, Lord Kevin breaks the news of Elizabeth’s death and her letters. Forsythe lashes out in disbelief and searches for her letters. He finds the stack that had Keller insignia which he’d been ignoring, not knowing that they were Betty’s letters. He reads them and in anguish, looses it. Sobbing for hours and days.

His story ends as he stares up at the palace, picturing events of the past where he first hugged Elizabeth, where she sung him happy birthday and where they first kissed. And more importantly, where he watched her sit in the rain for two days straight to get king Fredward to accept her request to help a sick Veronica. A particular event in which he shielded her from the rain as he stood by her sickly side.

There’s another solar eclipse then and he vows to see his Betty again one day.

Betty wakes up, crying yet again and wonders why she keeps doing that. She keeps dreaming of a dark, lonesome King.

When she gets to work, she’s working in the museum, specializing in Victorian literature. The whole day she’s feeling lightheaded. And while showing a red headed man and his girlfriend (Archie and Veronica) a snippet of a woman’s words from the first ‘female writen book’, she nearly collapses. While recovering and catching some fresh air, Betty tugs her elastic and massages her head while walking through the new exhibit that she had yet to see. It was about a Victorian King that had been recently discovered.

As she passes a few paintings and sculptures, her head begins to hurt. Her pulse quickens and she begins to feel clammy. Everywhere she turns, she can hear voices from the past, voices and events related to each piece in the room. When she sees an old tattered book, she sees herself, she sees the man in her dreams. When Betty runs into a pair of ancient heels in a display, she sees herself trying them on. And when she finally stops in front of an aging painting of a man, her eyes well up with tears. It’s him, the man in her dreams. When she reads up on who he is, everything comes back crashing down on her. Kisses, hugs, love making, their daughter and her connection with Forsythe.

“It wasn’t a dream...”

Betty clamps her hand to her mouth, gasping and choking back tears, sobbing, feeling sorry for leaving him. She apologizes for leaving him alone again. Betty is sorry that she promised to never leave him the first time that they made love. His memoirs refer to him as the Loney Serpent King: a caring man who ruled through his time as a wise king. He had children and an ‘adopted’ daughter who later went on to become a queen herself.

While she’s sobbing, she collapses on her knees. Archie and Veronica run to her after spotting her and try to calm her. It’s then when an inconsolable Betty notices a tissue offered her way. When she stops, she blinks and sniffles, she takes it and when she looks up, time stops when,before her, crouching and in a casual clothes and beanie, Jughead blinks at her in curiosity.

“Are you okay, miss?”

🌘