#saturnine girl answers

[gioiaalbanoart]

MIXED FRIED TAGS

(Because I'm so late....)

Writing share tag @fortunatetragedy here and here (but no kiss this time) ----- Writing update tag @wyked-ao3 here AND open tag Heads UP Seven Sentence Sunday by @the-golden-comet here

WIP The scarred angel, under the cut

(Not respecting the chronological order between posts but they're close since it's the same chapter AND, fuck it!, it's not even edited 😈 if you have any feedback to give just say it)

The moment the three of them walk back in Herrera's office Amy's focusing to gather a semblance of inner strength and balance that she'll have to put in show too, for once, knowing this time she won't get rid of Morales.

She sits in the usual worn out armchair in front of Herrera's desk, noticing the man's defeated expression.

Amy could swear he looked more alive in the short time Ashley was here, it's a strange feeling.

Herrera does, in fact, feel worn out but it's just partially a post side effect of meeting with the girl.

He considers himself a pretty much down-to-earth man, too ahead in his years to dare questioning life choices made in the past, constantly confronted with events that seem to develop too fast for him, more than he can possibly bear. 

Neither he'll ever see an end of any of those don't even mention a good one.

At least once every damn working day he can't help it but think he yearns for a simpler life and in order to achieve that he's definitely not in the right place. Or right era, for the matter.

Herrera gathers his inner strength too : "So, Miss Salinas, What can I do for you now?"

Tone isn't exactly harsh but nor friendly either, nonetheless Amy turns a deaf ear to it, same as she tries to cut out Morales presence.

The latter leans against the windowsill openly staring at her kind of abrupt, arms crossed on his chest.

Not really proud of himself but, seriously : "Who would take 'her' for a woman?" he justifies himself, defending what genuinely thinks is a legitimate mistake.

She barely said a word in the car few days before, she literary swims into those oversize clothes that conceal everything women have been granted with, and that head...

Why the hell does she shave so? 

God, he loves long hair in a woman!

Now that he's looking carefully, yeah, those features might pass as feminine, if she didn't cropped her mane that way, but barely.

Looks the tomboy type, definitely not his.

"I'm going to prolong my presence here." Amy bursts out interrupting the train of thoughts of both men.

Not the word 'thinking of', not mentioning she didn't call her office yet, without specifying how much longer. 

With renewed resolution Amy acts as if, determined.

If someone would ask she wouldn't be sure of the answer, better to keep it short.

Herrera arches a brow : "Really? Why?"

"There is much more to cover" it's the blunt answer and also the first thing that comes up to say. Not a lie neither.

Silence lingers.

....

TAG TAG TAG TAG...... (np) and take your time , writing share is fine at any given moment 💗 : @aintgonnatakethis @authorcoledipalo @fortunatetragedy @saturnine-saturneight @wyked-ao3 @lavender-gloom @illarian-rambling @leahnardo-da-veggie + OPEN TAG FOR ALL

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Doctor Who, but Chronologically 25

I know I know, haven't done this in a while. Check the tag for past instalments

But it's 1905! One year on from all that Flux stuff, and while Jodie Whittaker is back as the Doctor and Yaz is here again we nonetheless have Graham and Ryan back too and no Dan, so who knows when all that's getting resolved. Meanwhile we're in New York meeting Nicola Tesla, who is played by Damien Moreau.

This is a painfully average episode. On the one hand it's fun and features space scorpions. On the other the companions do pretty much nothing this episode, so it's yet another example of "Why are these people here". Yaz comes closest to being relevant by convincing Tesla not to give into a scorpion queen while they're on her ship, but honestly, you could replace all three with sexy lamps and nothing would change about the plot.

Not a lot of plot happens really, and it doesn't happen for 45 minutes. Turns out Tesla has received a signal from Mars, which of course is currently full of Ice Warriors evicting the British Empire, so maybe that's what he picked up? Except everyone thinks he's mad, which is strange, since Britain literally colonised Mars to steal gemstones like two episodes ago. Honestly, it's almost like these episodes were filmed several series apart with completely different production teams.

Anyway Tesla signalled back, but it was asshole space scorpions, and now they want to kidnap him to make him upgrade their weapons or something. They have a queen who is fully humanoid and also played by Rani from the Sarah Jane Adventures. The rest of them literally just look like scorpions. This is a very Legend of Zelda approach to character design.

The episode is mostly a philosophical treatise about dreaming engineers who want to save the world being hamstrung by capitalism, so that's great, but tbh it's thin on character-work. There's a dreary bit where the Doctor phones the scorpion queen and says they aren't handing over Tesla so the scorpions should leave or else, and the scorpion queen says they'll kill the planet in that case, and the Doctor looks flabbergasted even though that was very literally what the scorpions had already said they'd do. I honestly do not understand the shocked reactions at this point. Then Tesla says he has to sacrifice himself in that case, and we get a more toothless rehashing of the Percy Bysshe Shelley vs billions of people debate that we had like ten episodes ago, and once again, lads, once again, I must stress that this is a STUPID way to watch this show.

Eventually they blow up the scorpion ship with the queen on board. How like a Tesla.

Very little in the way of meaningful events! There's a bit where the scorpion queen asks the Doctor if she's ever seen a dead planet and the Doctor says yes and looks a bit haunted. That's about it though. No answers to any of our hanging plot threads, but also no new questions, so we're Winning

Hanging plot thread list:

“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me? Maybe Clara???!)

There is something on Donna’s back

An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest.)

Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)

The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)

River is possibly blown up  (unless she’s Missy)

The TARDIS has blown up  (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again)

The universe appears to have ended  (the universe is back again)

The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole (And Nardole was “reassembled???”)

There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)

What has happened to all these companions and where are the new ones coming from?

There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons

What’s With The Silence?

Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?

What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?

Who is Captain Jack Harkness? (Is he the one who gave the companions a warning about the lone cyberman?)

Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window?

What’s with the Doctor’s future involving getting shot by an astronaut?

Is Amy pregnant and why is it inconclusive?

Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?

How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?

What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???

Who did the Doctor lose to Cyber Conversion?

What happened with the Other Cyber War?

What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?

Why does Rose seem particularly important?

What’s with the Weeping Angel statues, and why can’t you blink at them?

What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi.)

Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?

Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri

There is a Lupari shield around Earth.

What’s a Time War?

What’s the Rift?

What’s Bad Wolf?

What happened with Amy’s pregnancy?

In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?

Who is the Master?

Why has Amy forgotten Rory?

Is Rory plastic or not?

Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?

How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?

What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?

Which friend killed Strax?

Which friend brought Strax back?

Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?

What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?

How does Clara actually join?

Why so many Claras?

Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven?

Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?

What is Trensilor and what happened there?

Who is Handles?

The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man

The universe is being crushed by the Flux

Will the Doctor open the fobwatch?

Sontarans are invading Earth again

Who is Kate?

Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?

The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent

[thescribetable]

Sea-wandering Soldier [Pt. 1]

(!Platonic Sephiroth/OC drabbles)

[Part 2]

~Introduction

At five years old he could recognize Mako signatures of other soldiers; they were strong, though not as strong as how his own felt.

Of all of the Mako signatures he'd encountered, however, none of them were this potent.

His eyes traveled along the cold walls of the lab to the entrance. When a small group of scientists entered, he was met with a young girl with saturnine skin, and eyes of fire looking into his own.

Her eyes suddenly averted his curious gaze upon sensing movement before her.

"Come here, girl." A chilling command that held no room for disorder brought the girl to the front of their small group. A woman's hand rested on her upper back as if to gently usher her forward. A gesture that would have seemed kind if the woman hadn't looked - felt - colder than the lab.

He almost bristled when the Professor lent down at eye level with her. Almost. By the slight furrow of the girl's black brows, she didn't seem to like it either.

"What is your name, child?"

After a moment's hesitation the girl looked up at the woman beside her, who in turn nodded her go-ahead, and she answered with as firm a tone as she could muster, "I am called Kisa."

"Is she like me?" He asked the professor after the girl had left.

"No, boy. No one is like you."

~Hello

Her Mako signature caught his attention before she made herself known; and like their first meeting, her eyes were on his the moment she and her Overseer entered the hall.

She broke eye contact once they stopped before him and the Professor. He noticed her flinch just ever so slightly at the sound of her Overseer's voice; it sent a chill down his arms. If death had a voice, he was certain it belonged to the woman.

He watched the girl steel herself in the face of her momentary vulnerability, and her eyes shifted to her Overseer as they droned on over Mako sites, potential Mako wells, etc.

After some time, something flashed in her bright brown eyes and her gaze flit from her Overseer to him, back her Overseer, then back to him. The barest of smiles form at the corner of her lips as she mouthed, "Hi."

A spark of intrigue lit up in his chest and, after considering indulging her - indulging his curiosity - or remaining still in the presence of predators, he glanced tentatively at the Professor before mouthing back, "Hello."

~Friend

"This is not a play-date, child," her Overseer's voice struck her like a shard of ice, "This is where your training has led you; you are here to hone your skills against a more worthy opponent. You are here to be better. This is but a stepping stone to your destiny, and you will not squander it. Am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You will not speak unless you are spoken to, and when you are spoken to, make no mention of those visions of yours. "

Her hands clenched around the hilt of her twin blades, "Yes, ma'am."

By the time their sparring began, they were well past the use of practice swords. It didn't take long for one to figure out the other's combat strategy, then to switch things up, only to become familiar with the new strategy.

Rinse and repeat.

It made them better. It made them stronger.

However, as they were still children, there were many hurdles to overcome; one being his arrogance: another, her ferocity.

She once managed to disarm him because he'd gotten too cocky; though he somehow disarmed her in the process she still had the blade's twin, aimed right at his throat.

In another spar, she'd let her ferocity cloud her judgement to where she no longer relied on strategy, but force. That particular spar ended quickly, with her on her back and his katana at her neck.

Other times, they nearly destroyed the simulation room with their sparring. Such was the consequence of Mako enhanced children without yet a proper grip on said enhancements.

Any previous friendliness between the two children had nearly ceased during that month of spars, training, tests, tests, and more tests. There was simply no room for it, apart from careful glances and cautious smiles of apology they managed to squeeze in.

That month turned into many months, and for so long their curiosity was kept on a tight leash.

One day, when he picked up her Mako signature in the library, the leash snapped.

She was at a window seat with a small stack of unopened books by her feet, looking longingly out the window. Then she looked at him expectant, curious.

He had to know.

"You're not with the other soldiers?" He asked, and was met with an unenthusiastic snort.

"No," she answered as she looked back out the window, "They've made it clear that I shouldn't be here. Something about me being a freak. And a girl, but I see other women soldiers all the time," she added with an eye-roll that would have made him laugh, in another life.

"You can sit down, if you want."

He hesitated for a moment, wary of crossing any unspoken boundaries, but her Mako signature drew him in further to sit next to her.

"They don't like you either," her gaze flit back to him, watchful, wondering, "Do they?"

As young children, they called him 'old' because of his silver hair; they called him 'weird' and 'freak' due to his eyes.

Now, at twelve, they called him 'cyborg'.

"No."

The girl nodded in understanding, and the two fell into a pensive silence until the stack of books caught his attention again.

"What are those?" he asked.

"Uhm," the girl shifted in her seat, "Midgardian Architecture, Mythologies of a Bygone Era, Legends of the Cetra . . . and a book of poems that I can't read because it's written in Wutaien."

He couldn't stop the little smile forming at her admittance, "You like poetry?"

"Haiku's, mostly."

The girl watched as he bent to pick up the book of poems, green eyes scanning over the title. A thoughtful frown graced his pale face and he opened his mouth to speak, closed it in apprehension, then decided to bite the bullet.

"I can . . . I can read it to you, if you'd like."

She blinked in surprise at his offer, "I . . . alright, if you don't mind."

An hour later, about halfway into the book, an alert sounded from the girl's phone. A curt sigh escaped her and she frowned an annoyed, anxious frown into the empty space between them.

He knew that look, and how helpless it felt.

He offered to help put the rest of the books away and as they did so, he mulled over another offer that formed a pit of unease in his gut.

For the second time that day, he decided to bite the bullet.

"Can we be friends?" He asked.

Her attention snapped to him with a look that could only be discerned as shocked. For a long moment she simply looked into his jade eyes, not giving away a single emotion, not even a hint of what she could be thinking.

He came to regret asking. After all, who would want to be friends with him? Who would want to be friends with a cyborg?

A slow smile lit up her face and all regret was washed away with it.

"Yeah."

[ladylilithium]

Everyone in the Frozenverse looks so similar, so that if Hans was standing directly behind Oaken with a beard, no one would recognize him.

I'm sorry anon. For some effing reason Tumblr didn't work and I had to rewrite my answer again, and it's so annoying 🙄. I'm losing my mind.

But back to the answer, you mean this part?

Gotta say, nice catch anon. I'm not very good at looking deep in detail to trailers. It kinda spoils the fun for me and secondly, I'm more of a casual fan when it comes to Frozen; I like the hansdom and helsa side of the fandom, and perhaps a bit part of anything else, but I'm still more of a casual.

Tbh I didn't like the first movie that much, but I liked it's potential. With that being said, I'm still going to analyze your hypothesis because is fun (also because I never get asks and I feel so honored right now :'v).

So there are actually two guys in the same scene where Oaken is. These two guys.

Let's just go right off the bat and discard the first one, since his skin is too rich to be tan. I can picture Hans being more tan after years of hardwork under the sun, but that skin tone is too deep to be considered from white to tan. And the jet black hair is too dark as well. You see hair dye existed around the time where Frozen is inspired (even way back before), but it was mostly natural, with not strong chemicals we use today. And thus the hair wouldn't look that dark, a trail of it's natural color should remain . I personally, see that background character as an entirely different from Hans. And also is a bit iffy if a white character suddenly looks like that, don't you think? If I were part of the writers I would warn them that this could fall in blackface category, and Disney of course, doesn't want that. So this guy is not Hans. ❌

The second guy on the other hand...

let's make a small list of similarities, shall we?

Brown auburn hair (with red undertone). If Hans somehow wanted to pass unrecognized with a beard and dying his hair, this would be more likely the end result.

White skin.

Same hairstyle.

Same bored cocky... face? (My interpretation lol).

But that's about it... I think his eyes are too small and dark to be Hans. Granted, the quality of this pic is shit, but still. The biggest giveaway for me is the nose. This character has a big rounded nose, Like a pig shape, while Hans' nose is pointy and angular.

See the shape between shadows and lights? So this guy, is not Hans either.❌

I think at this point, is too late to introduce Hans again. As far as we've seen, I don't see how Hans can fit into the plot of Frozen 2. Unless the New lore and mythos connects him or his family directly, I see no reason to put him again in this film.

From a narrative standpoint is unnecessary. As sad as this sounds, Hans is unnecessary for Frozen 2. If I were part of the creators staff I would've made sure that he can fit into the plot or.... not adding him at all. You see the biggest problem that Frozen had was that Hans is not really a necessary character, you could easily erase him from the movie and the conflict would still be there between Anna and Elsa. The writers (and some fans) tried to explain that Hans was the catalyst reason of why the conflict started but really.... that's not true. We also never see a clearer POV to make us understand his own development. He goes to good baby boi to ultra evil instinct in just one scene. There is no pacing or believable hints that make us mistrust him, and we cannot take him seriously as a villain because we don't see the build up either. We don't see his progressive turn to evil, so the final product is bland. AFH made a better job since we can literally see his POV, but not everyone read the novel. And so some came to the terms and accepted Hans as a villain, some others are like meh, who cares, and some believe that he needs a second chance because he clearly has the capacity of compassion and empathy.

However, in order to bring him back, he MUST BE a protagonist/coprotagonist. He must have a good amount of focus, so we can see his progress and development as a character to redeem himself, because regardless of how his life was, how scared he might had been, he still tried to kill someone. And that means a whole lot of screentime and interaction with the rest of the cast/characters.

So when the hansdom or helsa fans still claim that he's going to appear as the plot twist or whatever, I'm like

But idk, it could work... as it could not. I think is a poor choice to add Hans in frozen 2 as a secondary character and make a half baked story for him again. No one would take his redemption seriously imo. Not even as a character, he would become just that annoying side character that no one likes lol (Like scrappy doo).

.

.

.

PS: SHOULD HE HAPPENS TO APPEAR AS A SMALL CAMEO JUST TO BE THE PUNCHING BAG OR TO BECOME MORE EeeViIL FOR FUTURE SEQUEL I SWEAR TO GOD-.

[vampire-himbos-of-santa-perdita]

The Hell Witch’s WIPs (2021)

Dear god, my last WIP list is woefully out of date. There have been some Significant Changes to quite a few of my novels over the past year I should probably rectify by now in my main listing...

In order of completion/priority:

Heaven’s Tiny Daggers: Finn Begby and her two best friends were there the night rockstar, Aster Maddox went up in flames on stage. Although his death is not a lasting one, it takes Finn years to finally face the trauma of what she saw. The best way she knows how to heal is to start a band. What she doesn’t expect is to catch the attention of Aster himself. As Heaven’s Tiny Daggers rises to fame, new opportunities open up to Finn and the rest of the band. Namely, a prestigious spot at a New Orleans retreat where folk music legend, Helene Saturnine fosters up and coming artists. Once in New Orleans, however, the girls and their fellow guests find that La Bellemort mansion is far more than it seems, morphing to their every whim. But there’s something demonic lurking in the shadows of their summer home, one keen to pick them off one by one, and the house seems only eager to warp to their attacker’s needs…

Status: Currently completing final draft before sending it off to query in 2022.

Time, Regardless: In the small Southern California town of Santa Perdita, Marnie stalks the streets at night to exact her own form of vigilante justice. When a popular teen drama rolls into town to shoot its latest season, girls start showing up dead, each one a year younger than the last. Marnie’s convinced the charming love interest and his unruly entourage have something to do with it, but she can’t prove it all on her own. Enter Corvin Lockwood, mortician and resident bad boy, living alone in the mansion on the hill. Nothing spooks her more than his home, said to be so haunted, no one’s ever successfully completed a renovation since it was originally built. But she’s willing to do just about anything to solve the murders, even face her darkest fears just to get a glimpse of the bodies Corvin preserves if they’ll lead her to the answers she seeks. What lurks in that house, however, is more than Marnie bargained for. There’s a reason she was once too afraid to set foot in the mansion, yet still so drawn to it over the years. The clock is ticking and Marnie must confront a past she’s denied all her life before the killer strikes again and innocent children die.

Status: Awaiting complete rewrite after previous query with a very different plot. (Watch this space for a potential new title.) Next up after HTD!

Haunt Your Murderers: It’s Victorian London’s best kept secret that Millie Marsette likes to collect young protegees to take under her wing. What no one knows is how she breaks them, and leaves them in the dust in favour of her next shiny new toy. Melusine Cutpurse and Andrina Calder know her patterns intimately, and know not whether to scrape their way back into her good graces, or seek revenge. Melusine: the leader of a drag troupe who uses her brothel as a front for her underground crime ring. Andrina: A travelling circus aerialist turned pirate forced to become captain of her ship after watching her lover walk the plank to her certain death. The pair of them are joined in an unlikely mission against a mad doctor, piling up bodies for his sick experimentations. They say he’s on the quest for immortality, but only one person can grant him that: the very woman who made Melusine and Andrina who they are, and dropped them just as quickly. As everyone’s schemes begin to unravel, it turns out, they’re all as bad as each other…

Status: Backstory written, awaiting a full first draft write up. Who knows when we’re coming back to this one...

Vampire Gatsby Novel: A magnetic pair of vampires pluck a girl from a roadside crash and her certain death. They bring her to their lavish mansion and help her transition as a newborn vampire in all the glitz and glamour of the roaring 20s. Cecily and Jory are well known for their extravagant parties. It’s here, their new protegee, Lena must learn to hunt. Meanwhile, they’ve promised her a shining new career on the Hollywood lot, where she catches the eye of a sadistic director with a penchant for deadly set designs. The underworld is at Lena’s feet, and she must decide if she wishes to use her new form to cull the most dangerous criminals from the city, or simply become one of them.

Status: To be written!

Moonage Daydream / Woodland Mechanicals: Originally a TRC next generation fic found here, the fresh rewrite opens with the disappearance of a newborn, found unscathed in a clearing in the woods. The only problem is… it’s not the same child. Years later, Violet Lewandowski knows something’s wrong with her. Something dark is trying to crawl out of her, but she doesn’t know what. She grapples with her paranormal identity alongside defending herself and her mother from her violent mob boss father, who holds their small Rocky Mountain town in the palm of his hand. Her only solace is with her best friends and neighbours, Sargent and Indie Hennessy, the precocious children of local art forgers. Together, the three of them navigate labyrinthine tourist traps and spooky forests in an attempt to understand their magical roots before the monsters in the trees can take them as their own. No one knows for sure what goes on in the forest, but as they say... as above, so below...

Status: Original draft posted on AO3, to be adapted into an original novel. Like Regardless, the plot of the latest draft is very different from the original. Vampire Gatsby and this one are constantly vying for my attention depending on my mood and neither’s won out yet...

Circus Noir Novel: Based on true family history, a 1940s gang holds up an LA card club. The ensuing shootout leaves a policeman dead and a mobster brutally wounded. The latter escapes with the aid of a circus bareback rider. Generations later, the mobster’s descendants venture through the most dangerous corners of the city in search for the truth that kept their family so tight-lipped about their mysterious great-uncle for so long. A whimsical road trip quickly turns into crashing a mob funeral and leaving the children in needle-strewn library stacks, all in the name of chasing the truth, one nickle-fed newspaper photocopy at a time...

Status: Just dabbling for now, but I’ve thought about fictionalizing my family’s worst-kept secret (and most insane true story!) for years at this point...

Feel free to ask me about any of my WIPs!

[project-ohagi]

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks x Reader

Buy me a coffee!! <3

The saturnine stream, the most crystalline form of sorrow, kindled a furious fire within his heart. Although it wasn't in his line of vision, your incessant sobbing had alerted him, and now he wanted nothing more than to scream for the remainder of eternity. Why must you be so very removed from his loving embrace? The comfort resonating from his voice, through that despicable phone, could only extend so far.

This was an extremely sensitive time, for both parties! Lolling around in the waters of your womb, was a being that would surely invoke a careful balance between your supernatural beauty, and the untainted personality he had retained in his era of innocence. In the beginning of your relationship, he couldn't have ever fathomed missing out on such crucial moments. Hero work really sucked, sometimes. He cradled the phone closer, lapping up all the sad little sniffles emanating from the other line. This wasn't your first long-distance call, but it was your most painful. After all, this pregnancy had come as an incredibly welcome surprise - despite having been high-school sweethearts, the two of you always agreed to consider children in your thirties...not now. Your euphoria was soon quelled, however, when news of Keigo's secret mission reached you.

Neither of you wished to be separated.

...Not now.

"Hey, angel." He cooed, in an effort to reassure your shattering hearts.

"Once this is over, I promise we'll be the best parents ever! I'll buy us a bigger house, and I'll take some time off, to be with you and the baby. It's gonna be fine. Just breathe for me, dove."

You ached to soothe the cracking of his voice...but you couldn't. Instead, you cursed the fates, wondering why he had to be the one with the dangerous job, with so little time for an expecting girlfriend. For a fleeting instant, you had imagined terminating it - Keigo's nightmares were haunted by the chains of his many responsibilities...adding a child into the picture wouldn't make life any easier for him. But...upon recalling his wide, teary-eyed smile, which brimmed with an unbridled love at the prospect of a family...you simply couldn't bring yourself to do it. He wanted this baby...you both did. And...Keigo deserved the utmost happiness, even the devotion of the sun! You wouldn't ever deny him something so precious.

He wasn't sure if you had actually acknowledged his words, or if your near-silence was purely spiteful. This situation could only be blamed on him. It was his fault. He couldn't skew the facts. Sharing your tears was his greatest desire, but he knew that he was your pillar. He couldn't afford to crumble. Not now. If he could liberate your mind from the unpleasant circumstances, even for a mere moment, then relief would flood his system.

He needed to ensure that you would continue to thrive in his absence, and safely raise your child. "I know this is tough, baby bird. I know, and I swear I'm gonna make it up to you."

The taste of bile, sour and sickening, settled on his tongue.

Though, his words didn't stop flowing. "I'm gonna miss you so much, gorgeous. But when I get back, we'll get married...This is such bad timing." He chuckled through the thundering of his heart - it begged to lie beside yours...but it couldn't. Not just yet.

"I bought you a ring months ago, but I was really nervous. I had planned to propose the day we found out about the baby, but I was just too happy, too caught up in the news. I love you, and nothing's ever gonna change that. We'll get married, and then we'll be a proper family. Have you thought of any names yet?"

It was a stab in the dark, a hopeful question.

He craved a response of any kind. He waited, breathless.

"Y-Yeah, but I didn't w-want to-" A few seconds of strangled weeping later, and you fought to answer. "-to decide w-without...w-without y-you!"

His voice was slowly, but surely, toning down your anguish. "I get that, angel. How about you tell me what you've chosen, and I'll give you a name if I can think of one?"

There was a pause, a hesitation, as you choked back the rest of your cries. "O-Okay..." You composed yourself, to the best of your ability.

"I was thinking, maybe...Aika, or Fumiko, for a girl..."

"And for a boy?" He prompted, desperate to maintain your concentration.

"For a boy...Osamu, or Kazuhiko?"

Your tone finally sounded free of those wretched sobs, and he chuckled again, relishing in your perfection. He truly couldn't have found a partner more wonderful, nor one who radiated more beauty. For a while, he had assumed you a very vivid fantasy - the embodiment of everything he longed for. Your compassion knew no bounds, your love for him was unrelenting. You moved in together almost immediately after becoming heroes. Unless there was a job or patrol, each evening was pure bliss. You snuggled into each other's embrace, Keigo's wing folded securely around your smaller form. He snored, but it didn't bother you. In fact, it was endearing...like a lullaby. You listened intently, whenever sleep evaded you, and the gentle rhythm fostered warmth, enough even to ward off the harshest winter chills.

You sipped on the hot milk procured for you by Midnight. "I think they sound great, dove. I could definitely see a little Fumiko running around the place. You put a lot of thought into those names, didn't you?"

"Yeah...I wanted to find the perfect one."

He laughed, loving the softness of your voice. "You did, (Y/n). By the way...have you had any weird cravings lately?"

"...Hot milk, and lemons." You mumbled, glancing down with shame-infested eyes.

"Whole lemons?" He asked, stopping mid-flight.

You sighed. "Yeah..."

"Why not chicken?"

[Word Count: 969]

[pulpwriterx]

THE RISE AND FALL OF KYLO REN:CHAPTER 4-

I CAN’T REACH YOU

Once I caught a glimpse/Of your unguarded, untouched heart/Our fingertips touched and then/My mind tore us apart.

I Can’t Reach You, The Who, from The Who Sell Out, 1966. Lyrics by Pete Townshend

“Where am I?”

It’s obvious where I am. I’m alone in an interrogation room with a hideous monster, a man so hideous and inhuman, he has to wear a mask.

“You are my guest.”

“Where are the others?”

Dead, I’ll bet.

“You mean the murderers, traitors and thieves you call friends? I have no idea. You still want to kill me?”

He sounds happy about it.

Why is he doing this to me?

“That’s what happens when you’re being hunted by a creature in a mask.”

There is something about him; something that makes me feel like…my life has been a long journey, leading to this room.

This day.

This…?

Fate?

I don’t want this to be my fate.

I don’t want him to be my fate.

He took his mask off.

And stood up.

Mocking her with the fact that he was not a monster.

In Rey’s mind, she was screaming.

Oh no!

It was him.

The Demon Lover, both the Dark Prince whose dusky, saturnine good looks might waylay you in the deepest part of the forest and the Great Beast. The Great God Pan, himself, who would ravish you with his hungry mouth and his big stiff prick after taking you far far far from the path, so far from the path that you might never ever ever want to go back again. This was Man in the Black Mask, her Imperial Lord and Master, in his shiny black jackboots you could see your face in. He was the man that she had waited for on Jakku. The man from the most forbidden of her fantasies the most shameful of her secret dreams.

She knew him.

She had always known him.

Rey wondered if she looked frightened.

She was.

But not of him.

“You think you came for your new friends. But you came to find me, again. Forget about them. They’re strangers to you. Tell me about the droids.”

And then she was talking.

Giving him some kind of answer.

Talking.

Kylo Ren was still talking.

We’re alone in this room.

He could do anything, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Why should I?

Oh no.

There it was.

The thought she didn’t want to be having.

She continued to resist his attempts to get information out of her, but it was her thoughts that disturbed her.

Why am I like this?

Rey tried, but she couldn’t stop these thoughts.

They were as unwelcome as a bizarre sexual dream; the kind where you are doing things you would never do, with people who's faces keep changing, and you wake up wondering what your body was thinking when you enjoyed anything so weird.

He's a big man. He has to be almost as tall and burly as Darth fucking Vader. And under that black outifit? Unlike Vader, he is a whole man. Hung like a stallion.

She closed her eyes, to make them go.

These thoughts.

She was beginning to be really afraid.

“…I can take what I want.”

And he did.

He took her thoughts right from her mind.

He took her loneliness, and her desperation.

She tried to hide her deepest secrets from him.

But he knew them.

He knew everything about her.

Don’t let him know about your dreams.

Don’t let him know what you were thinking about him.

“And Han Solo? You feel like he’s the father you never had? He would have disappointed you.”

“Get out of my head!” Rey sneered.

I waited for you and I waited for you, and I was so glad when I found you. Why do you have to be this man?

“I’m only one man. The man who loves you. You waited for me for a long, long, long time. In your fear. And you loneliness. But I’ve been looking for you for a long, long, long time. I knew it was you, Rebel Girl. I knew the minute I saw you. Just give me the information. I’ll unlock you from this device, and we can begin our part of the journey.”

And then?

Though she had been waiting so long to hear those words?

Rey began to resist him.

“I’m not giving you anything.”

“We’ll see.”

His ring.

His wedding ring.

He’s still wearing it.

Rey bit her lip.

“Ben? Kylo? Stop. Just stop.”

“Stop? Stop what?”

“Whatever this is! Acting like we’re strangers. Strapping me to a gurney. I’m not telling you shit, and you know it!”

“I feel like we are.”

“Are what?”

“Strangers! I come home to find my house dark and empty, and my wife gone, without so much as a note! I look for you all over the Galaxy, and half a year goes by and you and the Old Man and FN2187 turn up with the Resistance to sabotage me! Like we are strangers! I told you who I was and what I did, and you were alright with it for nearly two years. Then, all the sudden, you couldn’t live with it? What happened?”

“You made it sound like you were just some minor villain, and then I found out just who and what you are! I couldn’t stay, after that! Now that I see you in person? It’s worse! You told me you were enslaved by Snoke. Well, are you really going to let him have me? Enslave me, torture me, take my soul? Will you let him do to me what he’s done to you?”

Kylo Ren freed Rey from her restraints.

“No. Never. If I have to, I’ll throw us both off the catwalk, into the magickal heart of Ilum. We can take our chances with space and time. At least we’ll be together.”

He seemed so desperate, so anguished, and yet so hopefully mystical that she couldn’t deny this was her Kylo, her Ben.

The man who believed that the stars belonged to him, and if you knew him long enough, then you started to believe it, too.

Rey, this isn’t some stranger in a mask, some anonymous Sith badguy. This is your husband. The man who pulled you out of a hole in the desert, gave you everything you have and taught you everything you know.

“Kylo, I’m still wearing my ring, too. It’s on the end of this chain. We don’t have to die to be together. And if we leapt into the planet's core we wouldn’t take a mystical journey to freedom. We'd just die. You don’t have to either die, or give me to Snoke.”

“I don’t see how else I can get around it. Eventually. But I don’t have to take you to Snoke, right now. I can let you go. I can leave you with a guard you can use the Jedi mind trick on, and you can escape. For now. Later, I’ll find you, and smuggle you onto the Finalizer. I can bluff him, for awhile. Tell him you’re my apprentice. That you’re not ready to meet him.”

“What do I have to do, for these favors?” Rey fairly panted.

Those intensely sexual thoughts were plaguing her, again.

“Promise me that I will see you, again.” Kylo said.

“That’s all?”

She was disappointed.

Worse?

He was distracted.

He turned away from her, for some reason.

Thinking, probably.

“I really don’t think it would kill us. And it would be a release…” he muttered, dreamily.

There he went, off on one of his brooding, mystical flights of fantasy.

Rey knew they could last for hours, or days, and they had neither.

She fiddled with her clothes, so that he could see her wedding ring, on the chain.

However, she had to bare her breasts so he could see it.

“Kylo?”

He turned around.

“See? I’m still wearing my ring. Are you sure, Lord Vader, that there’s nothing else I have to do to gain your favor?”

He made that same face his father did when Han couldn’t believe his luck.

Kylo closed the blast shield on the door of the interrogation room.

“My Master told me about horny rebel sluts like you.”

“Really? What did Old Snoke have to say?”

“The Dark Side will twist you, boy. While you’re young and good looking, get all the women you can. Especially those Rebel Girls who like their men tall, dark and Imperial. I think, for once? It was good advice.”

He took off his cape, laid it on the floor, and lifted Rey off the gurney.

She put her arms around his neck.

“What did Master Luke say?”

“I don’t know. Something about chastity. I think I was distracted, at the time by the girl behind me thinking about how with lips like mine, I must give great head. I didn’t buy you these cheap leggings. Let’s do something about them.”

Kylo Ren got down on the floor with his wife, and ripped her leggings open at the seam between her legs.

Rey gasped.

“Be gentle with me, my Lord!”

“Hah! Not likely, Rebel scum! I know just the way you like it, my little wife, and it’s not gently! I’m not even going to take off my shiny black jackboots.”

“Can’t you take off your shirts, too? Please, Ben?”

“Whatever the lady desires. But promise me. No matter what? I will see you, again?”

“Yes. I promise.”

Kylo Ren took off his surcoat, his shirt, and his undershirt, talking to her, earnestly, as he undressed.

"Rey? Listen to me. Keep this in mind, while we make love. The power that reaches for you, the old Jedi Order? It is as totalitarian, as corrupt as the Sith who have enslaved me. But in a totalitarian state, sex is an act of rebellion. And love is revolutionary. Let me liberate you.”

He brought his mouth down on hers, hard and she pulled his big body down on hers, just as hard, tumbling them over and over on the floor.

Rey made a fist of her hand in his thick, dark hair and kissed him back, sucking on his tongue as he thrust it lewdly in and out of her mouth.

She threw her leg around him, impatiently rubbing her sex against his, still imprisoned in his pants.

He got up off of her, and Rey went for the high waisted pants' button fly, and released a purple-headed beast from the big man's pants.

Rey put her foot in the middle of his chest.

“Hold on, big man. You’re going to have to lick it before you stick it.” She told him.

“Whatever the lady desires…”

***

Rey knew she must have dozed off, because she woke up.

His Lordship was still asleep.

Rey woke him, gently.

“Ben? Kylo? Wake up.”

“Holy mother Force! You knocked me out! Where did you get that white Jedi nun suit, and when will you wear it, again?” Kylo Ren gasped.

“Maybe that was it. Maybe it was your uniform. You’re a warlord, and a killer, but you look too damn good in that farkling uniform! I should never have let you do that, Ben! Why did you encourage me?”

“Because I’m the badguy, Rebel Girl. The most Imperial Man in the Galaxy. That’s why you married me, remember?”

Rey sat up.

“That’s not the only reason I married you! I had no idea you really were the most Imperial Man in the Galaxy! And look what you did to my clothes! My underwear is in pieces all over the floor and you ripped the hell out of my leggings. I didn’t bring another pair.”

“I’ll stash you in my quarters and get you a new pair. Ours are much better. And there’s a hole in your boot. I’ll get you a new pair.”

They got to their feet, and Kylo put his shirt and surcoat back on. Here. Wrap yourself in my cape. And try to look like you’re afraid of me, while I’m marching you down the corridors.”

“I am a little afraid, Ben. First you had me strapped down, and you were giving me the third degree like we were strangers. You went through all your moods, at once. Raging Wookie, Brooding Mystic, Swashbuckling Scoundrel and Sexual Death Star. That’s a lot of moods in less than an hour. Even for you.”

***

Kylo locked Rey in while he went to get her another pair of leggings.

Also another pair of underwear.

He had torn those to shreds, too.

Kylo returned with two unopened packages.

Rey was still in his bed.

“You’re still here? I must have outdone myself. That’s the bathroom. That door. You can go in there and wash up. And these are unopened. The boyshorts have a First Order logo on them, but the desert leggings don’t.”

Rey picked up the unmarked desert boots.

“You can just give these out?”

“I’m Kylo Ren. I’m not beholden to anyone but Snoke. I can pretty much do whatever the fuck I want, when I’m not under his orders.”

“He gave you that much power?”

“No. I took it.”

“How?”

“When you get a reputation for making those who cross you walk a plank into space, people start to take you seriously. Especially these Old Imperials. Bloodthirsty, backstabbing, torture-happy sons of bitches. But you can put your new clothes on, later. Take the rest of those clothes off. You’re too hot to fuck with clothes on, Rebel Girl.”

He started to undress, completely.

“Again? Right now?” Rey asked.

She was trying not to sound excited about it.

Even though she was.

“I don’t know when or if I’ll ever see you again. I can’t waste this opportunity.”

“But we're here to blow this place up!” Rey protested.

She still got undressed.

In a hurry.

Kylo got back into bed.

“Then I’ll die hard. And we’ll go together. Nothing can distract me from how much I want you. And I can’t think of a better way to leave this rotten world.”

***

“Where the hell is Rey?” Finn insisted.

Chewie expressed his opinion on exactly where Rey was, and what was taking her so long.

“So? If I was him, I would. Twice.” Han defended his son.

He turned to Finn.

“It’s a family problem. You stay here. Chewie, detonate the explosive in fifteen minutes. Even if I’m not back.”

***

Han crept through the two-room quarters after he got the guard to let him in.

Without looking, he reached around the doorless entryway to the bedroom, grabbed the kid's lightsaber, jimmied the housing open and ripped a bunch of wires out.

Then he put it back.

“Hey, loverboy. Wake up and put your pants on. This place blows up in about a minute.”

The kid stopped snoring with a snort.

“What? Son of a bitch!”

Sure enough, he called for the lightsaber.

Rey skittered past him, doing up her belts.

Han stood in the doorway.

“You might as well point your dick at me, kiddo. At least you could piss down my leg. I don’t trust you, so I disabled your laser sword.”

The whole base was rocked by a massive explosion.

“You want to get dressed, or are you leaving like that?”

“I’m not leaving with you, Solo!”

“But you’re leaving. Unless you don’t like breathing.”

Ben swore.

He pushed a button on the wall.

“ZX4219? Get the crew together, get on the shuttle and rendezvous with the Finalizer. Now.”

“But, my Chieftain…”

“Zara. The Rebels are blowing the place up. Just do it!”

He pushed another button.

“Where are you, Chief? I don’t think that was the last explosion! We need to get the fark out of here!”

“I’ll be there, soon, Lieutenant. I need to locate Captain Skywalker. The Imperial Old Man is missing. Keep the engine running. Leave without me if you need to. That’s an order. Over and out.”

Kylo Ren pulled on his clothes.

Rey, now dressed, slipped past him, and he slipped the restraints onto her again.

“Take her. Take her and get out of here. Take her home. Not back to the Resistance base. Home. I gave you an out and I'm letting you go. Take her.”

His voice trembled.

The argument continued outside, with Ben carrying Rey out onto a catwalk and Han following him.

“Come with us, Ben. We miss you. Come home.”

“I can’t. It’s too late for me.”

“It’s not! Why do you want to stay? For Snoke? Do you think he’ll ever let you have power? He’s using you.”

“I intend to take it.”

“Sure. He’ll let you do that, too.”

Kylo swore.

He put Rey over his shoulder, and took off his mask, and dropped it.

She screamed.

“Don’t, Kylo! Don’t drop me!”

He held her close again, and scowled at his father.

“Look at me, Solo! Look into my eyes! It’s too late for me, but he wants Rey. I can’t let him have Rey. I’ll throw us both into this pit, rather than let him have her!”

“You won’t come with me?”

“No.”

“Fine. Then I’m staying with you. Finn? Come and get Rey. Take her back to the ship.”

Han took Rey from Kylo’s arms.

Finn ran down the catwalk, and took Rey from Han’s arms, and Han handed Finn the keys to the binders.

“Take Rey to the ship. Tell the General that I’m not joining the badguys. I’m staying to look after our son.”

Rey was fighting to get free, and yelling, but Finn ran with her, panting all the way.

“What are you talking about, Solo?”

“I’m staying. For good, now. Until it’s over. You intend to take power from Snoke? You’ll have to kill him. I’ll help. But right now? We should be thinking about escaping. Chewie is going to blow this pop stand sky high.”

“Sure. That little fart of an bomb you set off a few minutes ago…”

A terrible explosion rocked the catwalk, and both men had to hang on.

“Shit! That’s it! That’s done it! You really are going to blow the place to hell, with you and me both still on it!  That was your last farkling  mistake, Solo.”

“What are you gonna do, Vader Junior? Shove me over the side? If you try to throw me over? We both go. I’ve been frozen in carbonite. I can take it. What about you?” Han told him.

“You know how many old bastards like you I've killed?”

“None. Nobody's as big a bastard as me. But you're getting there, kid.”

The catwalk buckled.

“I have my blaster in my boot!”

“I’m wearing two blast proof vests.”

Kylo Ren jammed his mask back on, pushed a button on the catwalk, and both men indeed made a run for it.

“What am I going to tell Snoke?”

“Nothing, if you’re dead. If you live? We'll think of something. Let’s find your TIE Fighter, and get the fark out of here.”

***

Kylo and Han were in the TIE Fighter when Kylo saw Rey standing with Finn, among the trees.

They hugged, and Finn kissed her.

“Did that traitor just touch Rey's ass?” Kylo snapped.

“What the fark does he think he’s doing?” Han insisted.

“Son of a bitch! That traitorous farkling son of a bitch! Gimme that lightsaber!”

Han handed it to him.

“Don’t kill him. Just put him in a bacta tank, for awhile.”

Kylo took his lightsaber back from Han, opened the housing and fiddled with the wires.

“I’ll break every bone in his body!”

He hurled himself out of the hatch at the top.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have given him the laser sword.” Han muttered.

He scrambled after him.

***

“Traitor!” Kylo screamed.

He ignited his lightsaber, and ripped it up the back of FN2187’s back, and then punched him in the face.

Finn collapsed.

Rey ignited Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber.

“You Sith bastard! All I did was hug him!”

“Sure, I believe that! I saw you kiss him, and he had his hands on you, too! Let’s see if anyone wants to kiss you but me, after I burn a scar into your pretty face, you faithless Rebel whore!”

They battled back and forth, and at first, Kylo attacked Rey with terrible anger.

That anger began to fade when he realized Rey wasn’t fighting to defend herself, or to wound him.

She was trying to kill him.

He switched to a defensive fight.

But Rey’s fury only grew.

“Stop! You don’t know what you’re doing! You can’t beat me. I still have much to teach you.” he shouted.

“You showed me enough! I will kill you!” Rey howled.

They were at crossed sabres.

“Rey, this is madness! I don’t want to hurt you, stop fighting me! Go home, Rey. Not back to the Resistance. They’re no better than the First Order. Go back to our home. I’ll come to see you, there. Like I used to. Nothing is different. I still love you. Nothing has changed.”

“I’ve changed!”

She kept driving at him, and Kylo kept falling back.

He wouldn’t hurt her.

Even if it meant losing a hand.

But when he saw his grandfather’s lightsaber coming for his head?

He had the opportunity to cut Rey’s hand off, lightsaber and all.

He didn’t take it.

He only raised his lightsaber to deflect the blow as he felt Anakin’s lightsaber sear the flesh of his face, neck and chest.

Kylo fell back in the snow, and his lightsaber bounced away from him.

Rey held Anakin’s saber over her head, in both hands, like an axe.

It was a crude move, but it would kill him.

Kylo scuttled back.

“Kill me quickly. If it is the will of the Force, I accept it. I forgive you.” He told her.

“Then let the will of the Force be done!” she shouted.

“Whoa! Screw the will of the Force! Rey! Stop! Are you crazy?”

Han Solo had grabbed Kylo’s lightsaber, and he stood in front of his son, and blocked Rey’s killing blow.

The sabres sparked together.

“He’s not your son or my husband anymore!”

“Nerfshit! Fucking Jedi nerfshit at that! Ben, Kylo, whatever he calls himself, he’s still the same man! He was Kylo Ren the whole time you knew him. I knew it, did I try to kill him? His mother knows it, does she want him dead? Will of the Force, my ass! It’s the will of you being pissed off!”

“But he hurt Finn!”

“Finn shouldn’t have been trying to kiss his commanding officer’s wife. Get Finn back on the ship, and back to D’Qar.”

Rey suddenly realized what she had almost done.

She extinguished her lightsaber, and Han extinguished Kylo’s lightsaber.

Rey pushed past Han, and knelt beside Kylo Ren.

“Did you burn his face off? I can’t look.” Han said.

“Kylo! Your face! You killed Finn, and I destroyed your face!”

Han swore.

“Alright. I’ll look.”

Han knelt down beside Ben, too.

“Did Rey burn my face off?”

“Nah. She missed your eye, and your nose. You’ll have a scar on your face and your neck, maybe down to your chest. But you’re bleeding like a stuck nerf. That’s no good.’

“You see, Rey? I’ll have a scar. I have many. Maybe I didn’t kill your traitor buddy. I just fixed it so he won’t be feeling you up under the farkling moonlight, for awhile.”

“But I can’t just leave you here, bleeding in the snow!”

“I’m not alone. Solo’s with me. Just go, Rey. Please. I don’t want Snoke to get you.”

“You’re a no good son of a bitch, Kylo Skywalker, Ben Solo! A Sith warlord and a mercenary, not to mention a killer, a thief, and a pirate! But other than the Sith warlord part, that’s the man I married, for better or for worse. There’s still good in you, I know. And I’m going to fight for it. I’ll free you from the Dark Side, or kill you, trying.” Rey vowed.

“Aren’t you supposed to die trying?”

“Me? Fark no! You’re the Sith!”

“I’m not a Sith, Rey. I’m a slave to the Sith. A prisoner of the black sleep of the Dark Side. They did the same thing to me as your friend, FN2187. Sought me out when I was a child. Stole me from my family. Told me a bunch of pretty lies, only to enslave me with torture and brainwashing to a destiny I never asked for that I don’t really understand. I’m glad you believe there’s good in me. That I might be free. I only want to live long enough to see the past die, to watch it burn, knowing that I set the fire, before the flames consume me.”

“That’s pretty goddamn dark, kid.”

“You had the chance to save me, Solo. You blew it.”

“I’m taking another chance, now.”

Rey wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up.

“I can save you from that fate, Kylo. Because I love you. And if I’m not as strong in the Force as you are? I’ll learn.”

She ran for the Falcon.

Kylo got his breath as Han helped him to his feet.

“It burns! My face, and my neck, and my chest! I feel like I’m on fire! I hate lightsaber wounds! They never stop burning!” Ben exclaimed.

Han got some snow, and packed it down Kylo's tunic, then against his face.

“More snow?” he asked.

“No. That helped. She’s safe. From Snoke. But you and me, Solo? We might be farkled. For one thing? I can’t fly like this.”

“I can fly a TIE. I was an Imperial pilot, remember?”

They watched the Falcon go.

Kylo touched his father’s face.

“Don’t be scared. I’m using the Force to make your hair and beard grow out. No more wigs and false beards.”

“Sounds good. And I wasn’t around, before because I was doing time in Arkanis Territorial. For that Crimson Dawn thing. Except instead of us looting the empty ship and blowing up the dock, we’ll make it full of Crimson Dawn guys.”

Han kept talking as he helped Ben get into the TIE Fighter.

“How about the way those Crimson Dawn guys scattered when they saw Kylo Ren?”

“Yeah. That was a really big score. Solo? I’m in trouble. There’s blood in both my eyes. I can’t see at all.”

Han got in the pilot’s seat, pushed the button for the hatch and opened the compartment under the dashboard.

The First Aid kit was still there.

Han opened it, wiped Ben’s face off with a piece of gauze, put a few clips on his long wound and stuck dressings to it.

“That should hold you, until we get you back to your ship.”

Han looked in the top mirror.

“Holy shit! My hair’s down to my shoulders. And my beard is down to the middle of my chest! And this goddamn moustache is ridiculous.”

Han grabbed a couple hair ties, pulled most of his hair back in a ponytail and quickly braided his beard.

“Chewie would hardly know me, like this. But I’ll still wear the eyepatch too. Just in case.”

He got Artemis Skywalker’s eyepatch out of his pocket and put it on.

“She was worried about me. She still loves me. When she lifted the lightsaber over her head? I saw she had her wedding ring on a chain around her neck.”

“I think she still loves you, kid. I’ll bet Rey's glad I didn’t let her kill you. Not that it was the first time, today that you saw where her ring was.”

“It was all her idea. I mean, she knew the whole place was going to blow, and she still wanted me. Twice.”

“Did Rey tell you we were blowing up the base.”

“She did. But I figured, fuck it. If I can’t die with my boots on with my blaster in one hand and my lightsaber in the other? Might as well die, hard.”

“You didn’t learn that kind of thinking from the Jedi, or the Sith.”

They blasted off.

Han stopped the TIE for a minute, just to watch the explosion.

It ended their jocular, locker room mood.

“Did you feel that? It’s a dark day, Dad. My side blew up Hosnian Prime. Mom’s side blew up Starkiller Base. Both sides will claim victory. But millions of people’s lives have been snuffed out. For no reason. That’s not victory. It’s insanity. This whole war, this whole thing? It’s madness. The Jedi, the Sith, the Dark, the Light? The Empire, the Resistance? Do you think that would matter to any of the people who died today? I’m going to stop it. All of it. It has to end.”

“I can agree with that, Ben. That’s gotta be the smartest thing I ever heard a Skywalker say. That’s only because you’re a Solo, too, kid. You got a plan, Vader junior?”

“Of course I have a farkling plan! First, I have to live long enough to kill Snoke.”

“You will.”

The radio crackled to life.

“Lord Ren, this is General Hux. Why aren’t you flying your TIE Fighter? Please answer.”

“I’ve been wounded. Are you on the bridge?”

“No. This is a private call.”

“Then why are you being so formal?”

“Because I don’t know who is flying your TIE.”

“It’s not Mrs. Young Lord Vader. I took a hit in the face, neck and chest with a lightsaber.”

“By who? Luke Skywalker?”

“No. My estranged and enraged wife. I couldn’t fight back, properly. I didn’t want to hurt her. My father, is flying my TIE Fighter. He just saved my life.”

“What about your wife?”

“She took advantage of me, twice, nearly killed me with the lightsaber I gave her, and went back to the Resistance. But she’ll be back.”

“Is that how you lost Starkiller Base? Too busy making it up with your Rebel wife?”

“My wife is worth ten jumped-up Death Stars. To me, and to the Galaxy.”

“Is that what you will tell the Supreme Leader? It’s shoddy, and weak, and it makes you sound like a child in a fancy-dress mask who’s more concerned with getting his end off than the responsibilities of his office.”

“Yeah, that’s Vader junior in a nutshell. His mask and shoes are polished, you can see your face in them, and so can the troopers in his command crew, most of which are women under those masks.” Han interrupted.

“In a totalitarian society, sex is an act of revolution.” Ben sniffed.

“Kid, you don’t need to give me an excuse. I know about you and your Force Fuck Cult of Action Girls thing. I’m sure it’s nice for you that you finally made it happen. And I'm sure it’s nice for the women, too. But you have to come up with a better excuse than that crazy shit!”

“You just don’t understand anything that has any philosophy or mystery or mysticism to it, do you, Solo? I am trying to bind people to me with love and trust and loyalty, not fear!”

“But you don’t do it with the guys, do you?”

“If I was gay, or bi, I would!”

“You’re proving that Hux and I are right and you’re full of it, Vader junior. Keep talking.”

“What do you want me to tell Snoke? Well, my Master, I was busy getting laid and I was more concerned with my Rebel wife’s hot pussy than your miserable military nerfshit?” Ben snapped.

Han laughed at that.

“Hey, don’t knock it, kid. Why do you think you’re here?”

“Don’t remind me. You have a button missing on your pants. I guess Mom has it. You guys are worse than me and Rey, and you’ve been married for decades!”

“We’ll have to think of something better for you to tell Snoke. What about Millicent? Please tell me you remembered the cat.” Hux interrupted.

“I’m sitting on her carrier. She’s fine. Clean the goddamn litter box, and you’re going to have to feed the cat for awhile.”

“I always feed the cat! Are we going to have your father living in the suite now, too? I wish you would have moved your wife in, instead.”

“Watch what you say about my wife, Armi.”

“You have all the luck with women, Kylo. Do you think Mrs. Skywalker has any Rebel Girl friends who like the Imperial Act?”

“Try all of them. What you need, Hux, is to wear a flight suit. Even if you can’t fly. Rebel chicks love flyboys. And Imperial flyboys? You’ll get lucky. No doubt about it.” Han snorted.

“Solo! You should not say things like that about women! It’s disrespectful!”

“What’s disrespectful about your pal Hux and some brave Rebel fighters getting what they want and having a little fun before we all die, horribly? Isn’t that what you mean when you say that in a totalitarian state, sex is rebellion and love is revolutionary?” Han retorted.

“Not really, Solo.”

Hux interrupted, again.

“So, Kylo, where did this father of yours spring from, this time.”

“Good choice of words. He’s just been sprung from Arkanis Territorial. For that Crimson Dawn affair. I sent for him, to be my guardsman. Now on a permanent basis. He was an Imperial pilot, he knows how to fly a TIE.”

“These new ones are a little different. But not too much. I need coordinates for the Finalizer, and you’d better have a medic ready on the landing bay. It’s not a deep wound, but your Lord and Master is losing a lot of blood. If he needs a donation, you can have some of mine.” Han added.

“Who’s Kylo’s mother?” Hux asked.

“You Darkstars, you think you have a right to know everything. Nosy farkling Arkanian.” Han retorted.

“How did you know my mother was a Darkstar?”

“I know all about you, Hux. One Arkanian to another. She was a savage clan chieftain's savage daughter. But from the Tattoine clans.”

“I see. You realise I know exactly who you are, Solo, who Kylo is, who his mother is, and who his grandfather is?”

“I know. So, is this nerfshit convincing?”

“Very. You’re as convincing a nerfshit artist and a liar as your son is. I will arrange everything. I am sending the coordinates to your computer. You have priority clearance, Captain Skywalker. Over and out.”

Kylo turned to look at his father.

“You think we can pull this off, Solo?”

“You can just kill anybody who recognizes me, right?”

Ben laughed, and spit blood out of his mouth.

“Sure, when I can see! Rey might have killed me, after all. I’m bleeding halfway down my chest! If I have to be in a bacta tank? Don’t leave me alone. The First Order promotion system is a lot like the Empire. It runs of backstabbing. Some of it, literal.”

“I know that, kid. I used to be in this outfit. I won’t let anyone get to you. And if a bunch of them try? You'll have less enemies.”

“That’s been the first step of my plan. To weed out anyone on the Finalizer who isn’t loyal to me, and replace them with officers, troopers and crew who are. Don’t kill the assassin’s. Have them arrested. After I’m well, I'll gather everyone on the flight deck, and make the traitors walk the plank into space.”

“You’re a real ruthless pirate bastard, kid. Here we go.”

***

Rey sat on the bunk, in the little room on the Falcon.

She was going to sew the rip in her leggings, then wash them by hand.

A little further down the leg from the rip, there was a crusty white stain.

Rey picked at it, with her fingernail.

It seemed like quite a lot.

She went to clean it off, with some water from the glass beside her when a sob escaped her throat.

So, I found him again.

My long lost good looking bastard of a flyboy, today.

My beloved husband, to whom I owe, oh, everything.

He’s the one.

I knew when I met him on Jakku.

It’s only that I know now, I’ll never be able to leave him.

Lucky me, he’s tall, and handsome, as big as a Wookie and hung like one, and he’s one hell of a good fuck.

Maybe the best fuck in the Galaxy.

He should be, he’s the baddest badguy in the Galaxy.

No man in the Galaxy is more Imperial than him.

Unlucky me, he’s Kylo fucking Ren, the murderous mystic and Sith warlord the Resistance is sworn to defeat.

But he’s also Ben.

Ben Solo.

And Kylo Skywalker, the Arkanian.

And a Wookiee named Kallaurra, who’s first language was Shriiyywook.

And who else, who knows, my boy Ben is a whole bunch of guys.

But even so?

Ben was a gentleman.

He took me to his quarters, apologized, after, for ruining my leggings, after he locked me in the room and came back with some wet towels and some dry ones.

Told me he wasn’t sure if my implant was still working, that was why he pulled out.

Ben offered me a pair of First Order uniform pants; I declined.

But I did take the pair of knickers and the new leggings.

I’ve never worn knickers, before; these First Order ones are a very high grade of cotton, they are quite comfy, very nice.

And I think these desert leggings are waterproof and rip-resistant.

Ben knew I needed his darkness; he said he needed my light.

So, later, we almost killed each other with lightsabers.

I gave him a nasty scar for being an Imperial bastard and hurting Finn.

Han stopped me from killing him.

But Kylo asked me to be his student; he wanted to teach me the ways of the Force.

He knows what’s between us, and so do I.

He’s my man, I’m his woman, and we belong to each other.

That’s why he couldn’t understand why I called him a monster.

Couldn’t understand why I left him bleeding in the snow.

The look on his face, I’ll never forget it.

He was a hell of a fighter.

Better than me; he was trying not to kill me.

A hell of a lover, too.

He’s the one, he’s your man, you’re his woman, your beloved husband, who’s given you all you have, all he has, and all he’s ever going to have. Not to mention his love, his trust, and his friendship. He’s been your benefactor and your teacher, too. He’s looked after you, and given you something like a life. A life with him. A home. And you tried to kill him, and left him broken-hearted and bleeding in the snow.

Because he’s also a monster.

Yes, Little Rebel Girl, you’ve had a big day.

Rey crumpled her leggings into a ball, threw them aside, and since nobody could see her doing it?

She cried.

[ncumenia-archived]

|| @pxndxrasbox sent:

"Have you considered my offer, little lunar child ?" Dark eyes peered down at the girl from where he sat, shards of rock floating past his pale face [The Outsider] ||

It was him. Once again. Those saturnine visions about him hadn’t stopped yet, and now he had returned, his pitch dark eyes piercing her soul, examining every single detail that belonged to her bloody, sorrowful memories. Had she thought about his offer? If she had to be honest, the answer would be “no”.  However, now that he was here, she couldn’t escape and pretend nothing happened.

«... I haven’t, to be fair. Mayhaps because I need more information about it, what you truly offer me... And its price. Some people say that “curiosity killed the cat”, but it’s always better bringing a torch with yourself than taking a dark path without it.»

[queenofallwitches]

Venus trine MC, my MC lies in Saturn and Saturn is in 9th house Aquarius.

Saturn Return, and my Soul Journey into 12th house Sun conjunct Mercury (in Aries) bound by the 12th house Shadow Secrets. Jupiter is Leo and Mars is softened by my conjunct cancer moon, both in my 3rd house. The kicker is Chiron simultaneously sitting over in my wounded goddess divine feminine Luna moon compelling me to build a home, a base and a clan of like minded souls. cancer and Chiron sit together and Chiron is akin to the wounded healer. I have a complex but alchemical natal make up and its been 6 years of accepting the square and oppositions in difficult places to come to terms to work with my natal astrology in a way I can become creatively involved in.

23/3/20 initiated the formal induction of my Saturn return as saturn transited to Aquarius for the first time since 92/93.

It’s a taste of the full saturnine swing coming up after the December 21st astrology grand conjunction. Saturn will be in Aquarius up to July. before moving briefly back before that grand Conjunction with Pluto/Jupiter later in 21/12/2020. (activity period from 14 April 2020 until mid-July 2020) Venus trine MC

Yeah on a tangent but one day I will be thankful this was forged. I am will using my moonchild manifesto to track the astrology and transits for my own wounded healer journey. I don’t have the consistency of a computer to hoard things as I did before the big brother fascism came full formed this year and cannot freely trust anything can be stored. I will be putting things online purely to keep a record of what may soon be lost, unable to be accessed.

Plus I’m burning my journals after I take the photos of them and upload them for a ritualistic purpose.

It’s part of this creative alchemy and trauma soul retrival quest I’ve found myself on. I note this as my Saturn is returning home for my FIRST Saturn return. I have been formally initiated for the infamous, enigmatic Saturn return that marks the passage from “adolescence into adulthood”. (Funnily last time I heard a university lecture on neuroscience, the latest research noted recent findings that the brain of a fully, functional prefrontal cortex in adult brains don’t become fully formed until age 28-30. This first sparked excitement and also uncertainty about the privilege cast to the “teenage myth”. As kids brains are still developing when things like getting a driving cars, choosing a life career, alcohol privilege and making other major life changes at those critical developmental stages are still as risky when a 12-16 year old does it. So now psychology and neuroscience knows that the adult higher order thinking that marks the turn of a mature and civil adult come in the late 20s. Not the teens. So until after 25 a brain cannot be fully assessing its choices due to underdeveloped prefrontal higher order thought processes This was fascinating in the social science side of things where we look into social constructs of society and how teenager was a made up archetype for a post war period. I remember being in my early 20s at the time and my life was no longer a race as it had been made to be prior.the schools of the latest brain neuroscience confirm my impulsive nature could change before age 30. I was hopeful. Maybe I wasn’t a gifted genius who was highly sensitive and afflicted with the contrasting “ADHD or Attention Deficit Primaily Inattentive” which could only be “treated” (as far as I had experienced), via heavy duty schedule 8 drugs. The kind of medication that calmed me down but other people wound beg me to have. Meaning in the past people in my life around me were constantly trying to turn into their party high by taking advantage of my disdain for psychostimulants. But my love and need for money back in that time. Fuck fake friends I say. Taking advantage or dysregulated prefrontal cortex with or without all my labels was still, after all, a risky business, when it comes to juggling psychopharmacology and a myriad of labels that resulted in other medicines given to me that may or may not be accurate. No brain scan or confirmation has been given that my brain is anything aside from ADHD. So my academic quest in childhood was confounded due to this.I learnt a lot about my childhood and growing up with a long list of multiple mental illness diagnosis, and the medical pharmacology given to me for those things; was beyond measurable.

But my neurochemistry was tweaked ineffably by both psychiatric pills pushed on me from age 9 and for things I may not even need. The end result of what my social science teacher termed “social constructs akin to mental illness medical model DSM labels”. My self pursuit of understanding my own brain was a hard thing to understand in the sense that prior to hearing about this from the side of academic and professional training, I had spend 12 years in expensive and possibly more damaging than beneficial treatment for “mental illnesses”. My life was a focal point for the goal I set to help women with the “borderline stigma” after I had fixed my own borderline.

Clinical psychologist was my end game until I found the trauma truth sweeping me into a existential soul contusion merged with trauma after trauma therapy went into flooding memory. Academic research and the psychology and counseling journals I spent my spare time fine combing. For answers. For my why and how. By the time I found any sense of this it became a painful limbo of dancing with my demons, coping destructively and limbo between the underworld and the reality I found my body and mind entwined in.

Now it’s even more synonymous to my own Saturn return journey and how the Saturn return is the mark of adulthood. This can be a speculative musing I make now on celestial astrology and how it aligns to our inner psychological makeup. (The Jupiter return is age 12, puberty ; and the other inner planets all mark significant development milestones in growing up. I’ll go into that more in later blogs).

Astrology is a map of the soul, psychology makeup, can be so deep too. How does it measure up to statistics? Sun sign horoscope is nothing versus the natal chart and how it corresponds to planetary magick and Kabbalah. I have been seperate in my magick and academic work but it was always my will to merge these at one stage I could research it. But now the sands of time are shifting, and Aquarius Saturn is calling for novel innovation I never could convey due to academic being seperate as spiritual, magickal practice is something I was careful to keep silence on when working with clients, peers and mentors, forget telling my psychologists or doctors who wound dismiss any test as “bipolar mania”. I remember once I read “the difference between the mystic and the mad man is the mystic knows who NOT TO TELL.

Now it’s my time to informally but officially start logging my journey into my own healing, soul mapping, I call it cognitive alchemy, gnostic psychology, soul psychology, metagnosis.. I’ve had many a name for the potential inspiration from my true will calling. But I can now forget about the archaic bonds from the academic world I was schooled to excel in by confirming. I am also a high iq gifted kid and having been labelled gifted but “adhd” simultaneously while having traumatic events left right and center is a mix of confusion for me. Teachers classed adhd as a learning disability, my in attention confused with inability to listen to simple tasks. This meant my mind never adapted to that school conditioning but my education was still installed due to the private school system somehow making my alters succeed without effort. Most of my spare time as a kid that wasn’t dissociative was reading books. By me processing my own literature in my spare time, I knew so much random stuff but hid it in order to seem dumb bc that was accepted. But in private in encyclopaedias and non fictional library quests I’d devour books. for my 10 maximum haul of borrowing books. This was a routine my mum and I went to do each week but my reading speed was beyond anything known, as I read and synthesised up to 10 books mostly in one day, from age 6 onwards.

I also stole books and hid my reading habits at school due to a deep shame of not being liked due to reading being for losers without friends, as girls bullied me over my gifted weird quirks. I was pretty but saw my self as ugly for trauma will deprive the mind of seeing it’s own true perception. I was never understood how my looks became a thing used against me by girls who were jealous until I learnt about this myself. I recently accepted and remembered this all after 3 years of integrated healing. I was doing this all on my own. the spiritual and metaphysical work is my primary tool that was keeping me here. Actually saving my suicide program from self destruct after the March 2017 incident I shall not talk about now. But I’m here now, alive, kicking, Saturn here to shove my shadow to consciousness without prompt and this change can bring me into a 30 year blueprint of setting things right.

Now in order to build a solid and functional framework and foundational life. I have a litany of secrets I need to get off my chest. I think to share my growth, my thoughts and my experiences for my own liberation of my deep dark secrets finally free to be released into the public domain.

I have no choice but to share this.

I do this co consciously as a part of my integrative process.

Maybe One day it might be a guide for someone who was as alone as I feel doing all of this self work without support. Maybe it will fade into the cyber void forever. Maybe I’ll use this as a tool to help clients in the future. Whatever this is means nothing but what the process of alchemy can do to forge my liberation from soul loss and traumatic dissociative trauma.

As a therapist I always wanted to avoid what I went through growing up. Now more so. I never want another lost dissociative mental health client who was also stuck between professional and academic pursuits being my “purpose” and having to sacrifice career and my study and research to sit in my shadow to see the shit.

In order to break the shit therapist mould I list journey through my own shit first. This meant I needed to be away from all therapy both as a client and practitioner and student for awhile. I’ve been off since the end of 2017 and now it’s clear it was neeed, how do I heal without healing my own shit first? Am I not the finest example of how bad therapists can get away with their bullshit and be paid for it but never really know who they are. I’m never doing that. I never was about that. So due to therapeutic negligence. I am finding my gift was the lesson. Those a shitty therapist who are a dime a dozen were the anti mentors I saw too often: but my purpose was to be a therapist. But a therapist who did things the way I never had.

Never did I want another to go into the heavy weight of shame from the secrets of sexual wounds, childhood schemas, mixed up and messed up conditioning made to seem functional to outsiders. But that was all alters. Now it was a spiritual journey as magick and my mystical path entwines to save my soul. The self awakening, trauma revelations, merging with the dark night of soul, and the shadow work. Plus everything else coming out is not a journey I can say is or was at all easy, I suffer more now as a co conscious intergrating my trauma. I feel it all without the dissociative switch to save me from witnessing all the shit. Now I see my entire life and it’s fucked up raw and grim reality and I have to do something because I survived it this far? Again I never suicided or stopped into self destruction when I knew my own inner child’s wounds were no longer blacked out but burning bright longing for love. Symptoms for survival and the survival was part of the dissociative switching making my outside self seem so functional, but never seen. It’s not something they needed to drug me for, but it’s another thing I have to address now. My symptoms they drugged with medications that were mind altering and powerful for anyone let alone a developing child’s brain, were suppressed by many meds. Who knows where that ends and the damage via trauma and other things begin? It’s a mess of some thing I was never aware of but always trying to silence due to the need for people to accept me. But that was many mes all living a life that appeased many people, but not for me. Here we are.

[madphantom]

The Phantom of the Phantom of the Opera - Chapter 7

It was late at night when Susanna arrived at the underground lake. It was ridiculous - or at least so she thought - that the theatre performing the Phantom of the Opera had both a Phantom and a lake.

She rolled down the sleeves of her dark green jacket and glanced over to the other side of the lake. Nothing.

Finally, she was annoyed. "Hey!", she yelled. "Hey, get the hell over here!"

"I'm already here," a voice behind her said. Susanna squealed, twirled around and nearly fell into the damn lake, but a strong slender hand grabbed hers and pulled her back.

She glared at him. "Oh, come on. Do you really have to do this every damn time?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I love your horrified reaction."

She facepalmed. "Dang, I hate you."

"Don't lie, my dear, you know that I notice it anyway." He smiled and stepped back. "So, how's it going? I heard you're leaving?"

"That's a fact."

"Have you already met the new Meg?" He tilted his head.

Susanna smiled. "Yes, Spoopy, and I believe so have you. At least that's what she said."

"Oh." He frowned. "Wait. That gorgeous young lady with a voice like a songbird and the most beautiful face I have ever seen?"

"Probably. Unless you meant me, honey."

"You?! A lot of things need to happen before I call you gorgeous."

"Thank you, Prince Charming," Susanna teased.

"You stop that right now." He was blushing. She could tell, even though she couldn't see his face.

"How are you?", Susanna asked after a little pause, now serious again.

"I am dying."

"Mkay..."

"We're all dying at different speeds."

"Are you serious?"

"It's a fact."

"You're getting more and more emo every day."

"I don't have many other things to do, Susie." He led her to the boat, which was barely visible in the shadows.

"You need a hobby," Susanna said.

"I have a hobby," he answered.

"Being a drama queen is not a hobby."

He laughed, picked her up and gently let her down in the boat, before getting in himself. "Hungry?"

"Starving."

He tossed her an apple. "You can eat this on the way to my lair."

"Seriously, you're getting in character more and more every day," Susanna muttered. "I wouldn't be surprised if you burst out in song by tomorrow."

"I am your angel of music...come to me angel of music...!" They laughed.

The boat arrived on the other side of the lake. He helped her out and they entered his domain.

"Sit down," he said while taking off his hat. "Get comfortable."

"Yup!" Susanna jumped onto the couch.

"I've told you a hundred times-"

"Sorry, it's just so much fun!"

He sighed and went to the kitchen counter. "Want tea?"

"Sure."

He boiled water and made tea. Then he sat down next to Susanna, sipping lemon tea. That was something about him that hadn't changed. He loved lemon tea.

"So...", he started. "That girl...what's her name?"

"Saturnine," Susanna replied. "She's single, just so you know. But probably not for long... Taylor seems to like her." He glared.

"What's wrong?", Susanna asked. "You used to like Taylor so much. You two were best buddies. What happened to that? How come our old clique isn't as close at it used to be?"

"Let me just say that there are many things you don't know, Susanna, and many of those are things you shouldn't know."

She slid closer and cuddled up to him. "You know that you can trust me, Spoopy. Your problem is my problem."

"I know," he said. "That's why I keep the truth from you. You've done enough for me already. No need to stress you with that."

"Strange logic, but okay."

They sat like that for a while, then Susanna had to go. He brought her back to the other side. As he walked away, she suddenly remembered something.

"Kelsington!"

He turned around.

"I want you to know that even though you are here, and not up on stage, you were the true star of my time at Phantom."

With that she left.

[diner]

Answer the 30 questions, and then tag 20 people you’d like to get to know better!

@kidzbopdeathmetal tagged me, merci my friend!!

1)nicknames? Meggytron, Megleficent, Meg, Meggy

2) gender? Female

3) star sign? Sun, Mercury, and Venus are in Leo. Moon in Capricorn, Rising sign is Scorpio.

4) height? 5'6"

5) time? 8:24 pm

6) birthday? August 6

7) favorite bands? Ghost, Radiohead, U2, Depeche Mode, The National

8) favorite solo artists? David Bowie, Adele, Chris Catalyst, Elvis Presley

9) song that’s stuck in your head? All I Want is You by U2

10) last movie watched? The Girl With All the Gifts

11) last show watched? Preacher

12) when did you create your blog? 8 years ago

13) what do you post? Stuff about Ghost, dark art, art, kitties, things that make me laugh, architecture

14) last thing googled? Barcelona

15) other blogs? No

16) do you get asks? Sometimes and I absolutely love it when I do

17) why did you choose your URL? I wanted to grab it because it was the same name as my Livejournal. I love love love diners.

18) following? 395

19) Followers? 200 something I can’t check cos I use the app only for tumblr (my laptop is ancient)

edit: 260

20) favorite colors? Black, green, purple.

21) average hours of sleep? 7 to 8

22) lucky number? 27

23) instruments? piano

24) what are you wearing right now? Underwear and a threadless tee

25) how many blankets? 1

26) dream job? A singer in a band or an art historian

27) dream trip? Sweden once I figure out where my family hails from. I’d like to see more of France.

28) favorite food? Grilled cheese sammiches

29) nationality? American. My heritage is Swedish, Scottish, Welsh, Prussian Jewish, Russian

30) favorite song right now? You Die at the End by Chris Catalyst

I tag @haunterrr @caligurl32 @misslavender @lysergic-saturnine-desert @snackcident-prone @halvingthetimeofmylife @zombie-qu33n and anyone who sees this and wants to do it.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Doctor Who, but Chronologically 16

THE DAY HAS FINALLY COME

CHRISTOPHER ECCLESTON IS HERE

New face again for the Doctor as we hit 1869 and the Unquiet Dead, AND we get Rose again - but this time, it’s early in her story, as this is her first trip to the past. And yes, it’s a lot easier this time to see what the fuss is about. In the course of this story Rose is the one to befriend (and defend) the servant girl Gwyneth; the one to go all fists blazing against Sneed when she thinks he’s kidnapping an old lady (and later, to the Doctor’s delight, threatens him with a poker). On being confronted with a risen corpse for the first time, her first words are “Are you alright?” She’s lively and compassionate and daring and so, so empathetic - at the start of the episode she tells the Doctor that his life is better with two, and has a mini speech that extolls the wonder of his travelling in a way that clearly melts his hearts. At the end, as they’re sheltering in a crypt from zombies and facing certain death, he guiltily apologises to her for getting her killed, but she’s having none of it. “It’s not your fault, I wanted to come,” she says. “Let’s go out fighting, together.”

What a queen. I think this is enough to push her much closer to the top of the leaderboard, certainly - she has moments here where she does get into the same tier as Donna and Clara. But I still don’t yet see what makes her particularly special over the rest of the pack, as it were, especially when she was so very bland in The Girl In The Fireplace. The investigation continues. Will update.

BUT LET’S TALK ABOUT THE DOCTOR

Okay so, new Doctor, BUT we had seen him - this is the one we saw on the infostamp, ahead of Tennant. But my, he’s so different again! He still has the “Fuck it, brazen your way through” attitude of all the others, but this one is very different from the others. He has a sharp edge that only Capaldi comes close to (when people say things he disagrees with he will straight up tell them to stfu), but it’s paired with something wild and bright and joyful and humble (he feels bad and apologises when he tells people to stfu). There’s a lovely foil between him and Rose - this story is about gaseous aliens who need flesh bodies and can inhabit dead people. The Doctor is all in favour of forking over corpses and literally does not see or care about the issue of how humans might take seeing their loved ones become zombies. Rose is aghast at the idea, and doesn’t really see the argument that a living species might take priority over a bunch of corpses. He’s logic and she’s emotion, and it’s a fun mix.

Anyway, this episode has, once again, not answered any questions at all while posing many more. Reference to another war! A Time War, and the Doctor looks very uncomfortable at the mention. The Gelth became gaseous as a result of it, and when defending Gwyneth, Rose snaps “She’s not fighting in your war!” at the Doctor. So that is, um, the fourth war? That has now been mentioned? Goodness, what a lot of wars. There is a “Rift” in space and time in Cardiff, apparently, which certainly explains a lot about Butetown. Also Gwyneth is a bit psychic and tells Rose she’s seen “the Big Bad Wolf.” I wonder if that’s important? Eh, probably not.

Also, this episode is Welsh. Unfortunately, as with literally everything that ever mentions Wales or features Welsh people ever, the characters do not miss the chance to sneer at it, because we’re not allowed on telly if we’re shown in a positive light, but I suppose t’was ever thus. Also, with a tedious inevitability that I instantly saw coming, every single Welsh person in it dies. But hey, I’m representation-starved, I’ll fucking take it.

Let’s update the list!

“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me?)

There is something on Donna’s back

An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest.)

Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)

The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)

River is possibly blown up  (unless she’s Missy)

The TARDIS has blown up  (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but NEW INFO: it’s fine again)

The universe appears to have ended  (the universe is back again)

The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole (And Nardole was “reassembled???”)

There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)

What has happened to all these companions and where are the new ones coming from?

There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons

Who/what is the Half-Faced Man that the Doctor talked about?

Why, when the Doctor saw the ship’s computer set to the Promised Land, did he say “Oh not again”?

What’s With The Silence?

Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?

What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?

Who is Captain Jack Harkness? (Is he the one who gave the companions a warning about the lone cyberman?)

Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window?

What’s with the Doctor’s future involving getting shot by an astronaut?

Is Amy pregnant and why is it inconclusive?

Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?

How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?

What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???

Who did the Doctor lose to Cyber Conversion?

What happened with the Other Cyber War?

What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?

Why does Rose seem particularly important?

What’s with the statues you mustn’t blink at?

What order do these Doctors go in? (Tennant first, apparently, but he’s possibly tenth.)

Which companion just... forgot the Doctor, and how?

What is the Flux and what did it do?

Who is the mysterious Victorian man who met Yaz?

Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri

There is a Lupari shield around Earth.

What’s a Time War?

What’s the Rift?

What’s Bad Wolf?

You’d really think they’d have resolved some of these by now. Weird.

[perfectus-in-morte]

85 facts about me you probably don't care to know but you're gonna read them anyways

I was tagged by @shelteringskyy to answer these questions. And since I'm a slut for these tag things, I'm gonna do it. Thanks älskling! 🖤 Rules: answer these 85 statements and tag 20 people. 
THE LAST: 
1. drink: a route 44 Ocean Water from Sonic 💙 2. phone call: My dog trainer 3. text message: my dog trainer lmao 4. song you listened to: Hurt by NIN 5. time you cried: today tbh 6. dated someone twice: Nope. When I'm through, I'm through. 🤷🏻‍♀️ 7. kissed someone and regretted it: a few times 8. been cheated on: unfortunate tely 9. lost someone special: haven't we all? 10. been depressed: that's 85% of my personality 11. gotten drunk: yep 
THREE FAVORITE COLORS: 
12. Emerald green 13. Black 14. Merlot 
IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU: 15. made new friends: fuck yeah! Thanks Ghost lmao 16. fallen out of love: not this year 17. laughed until you cried: definitely 18. found out someone was talking about you: does my dog trainer boasting about me and my dog to her other clients count? 19. met someone who changed you: hell yeah, if you're reading this, it's probably you. 20. found out who your friends are: Definitely 21. kissed someone on your facebook list: not since I tidied up my friends list lol GENERAL: 
22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: all but like maybe 2? 23. do you have any pets: oh boy, do I ever. 6 cats, two dogs (soon to be three), and 2 leopard geckos. Technically 4 of the cats are my moms, but I love them so they're mine. 🤷🏻‍♀️ 24. do you want to change your name: I'm already bad enough at remembering everyone else's name, I couldn't imagine having to remember a new one for myself. 25. what did you do on your last birthday: slept in, took my dogs on a hike, ate some ravioli at Olive Garden, napped, listened to my favorite Swedes... 26. what time did you wake up: 10am 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: lmfao reading Ghost fanfics 28. name something you can’t wait for: January because I'll finally be graduated and my new pup will be ready to come home 🙌🏼
29. when was the last time you saw your mom: like a few hours ago 31. what are you listening to right now: my lab snore and dream next to me while I'm restarting GoT 32. have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I guess? 33. something that is getting on your nerves: responsibilities, people who pet/distract/talk to service dogs, people who discredit disabilities, people who chew with their mouths open, my laptops space bar refusing to insert a space unless you hit it just right, the list goes on... 34. most visited website: tumblr hands down. Then Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube. Ooh and AO3. 35. hair colour: naturally? Now? I was blonde when I was born, auburn until upper middle school, and now my hair is naturally brunette. Science side of tumblr, please explain. 36. long or short hair: mine? Long. 37. do you have a crush on someone: lmao do I need to write out the entire list? If so, that'll take me awhile. 
38. what do you like about yourself: my boobs, my empathy, my makeup skills, the fact that my dog loves me regardless 39. piercings: I used to have a navel piercing, I've got 3 love piercings on each ear, a nose piercing, soon to get my septum done and maybe a daith, tragus, and industrial. Maybe nipple piercings, but I haven't fully committed to that. 40. blood type: ??? I have no clue
41. nickname: people tend to call me by my dogs names, my mom calls me Little Bear, I call myself a potato 🤷🏻‍♀️ 42. relationship status: Single but would make an exception for Ben Christo 43. zodiac: Gemini, first decan 44. pronouns: She/Her/Hers 45. favourite tv show: lmfao I have too many. GoT, Ghost Adventures, Paranormal Lockdown, Shadowhunters, Dark Shadows (the original series), Fixer Upper, The Strain, I give up on listing them all. Tl;dr I watch shows on Hulu daily. 46. tattoos: None currently, but have several planned for early next year. 47. right or left handed: Right 48. surgery: I've had my tonsils removed, ankle ligament reconstruction, do a hella bunch of stitches count? I get injured a lot. 50. sport: kinda getting into hockey, dog sports, equestrian sports, watching dewfrit battle it out on stage and kiss and make up 51. vacation: Sweden (obviously), Germany, Hungary, Romania, Scotland, Ireland, pretty much the entire world. I've got wanderlust like crazy. 52. pair of trainers: ASICS hands down 🙌🏼 and sperrys, but they're not tennis shoes 🤷🏻‍♀️
 MORE GENERAL: 
53. eating: just finished off some Subway 54. drinking: still sipping on that Ocean Water 55. i’m about to: go take my doggos on a quick hike and work on their training 56. waiting for: fucking cooler weather because I hate boob and crotch sweat. Having thighs that touch is great in the winter because ya kooch is warm, but fuck the summer. I'm salty af about this heat and humidity. 57. want: that's too general, but okay. I want my Doberman pup already, Ben Christo, actually just all three guitar ghouls I'm not picky, cooler weather, Papa 4 to be blonde and have gold as his color, FUCK I JUST HAVE A LAUNDRY LIST OF WANTS FOR GHOST SEND HELP, to go to Sweden already, to get the hell through grad school, Era 4 to finally happen like right now, Papa 2 to be my spoopy sugar daddy, more fucking fanfics, a cookie dough custard concrete, for Linton to stop oversharing lmao, my sanity, man my hands are cramping up. 58. get married: if someone can put up with my shenanigans, hell yeah. 59. career: military psychologist with a specialty in PTSD and trauma
60. hugs or kisses: both. 61. lips or eyes: definitely eyes 62. shorter or taller: Taller but I'm down for shorter people as long as they're nice. Short people are terrifying, they take no shit. 63. older or younger: Older. Looking at you Papa. 64. nice arms or nice stomach: Nice arms, but also F U C K Ben Christo's stomach AND his arms 🙌🏼 65. hook up or relationship: Relationship 66. troublemaker or hesitant: depends on the context 
HAVE YOU EVER: 
67. kissed a stranger: Yep 68. drank hard liquor: when I'm not sipping moscato, yeah. 69. lost glasses/contact lenses: too many times 70. turned someone down: yep 71. sex on the first date: yeah, hindsight probably not the best idea lmao 72. broken someone’s heart: Probably 73. had your heart broken: every time I wake up and I'm not dating Martin Persner 😩😭 74. been arrested: lmao by a male stripper once at a bachelorette party 75. cried when someone died: of course 76. fallen for a friend: Like twice but I got over it 
DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 
77. yourself: depends on the day
78. miracles: I guess
79. love at first sight: meh, definitely lust or connection at first sight. Love takes time to build. 80. Santa Claus: Not anymore 81. kiss on the first date: Probably? 82. angels: I believe in demons, so I guess I believe in angels too 🤷🏻‍♀️ 
OTHER: 
84. eye colour: brown 85. favourite movie: you can't just put me on the spot like that. I have too many. I guess Phantom of the Opera would be my go-to movie. And because I'm a nosey bitch, I'm tagging: @per-aspera-ad-inferi-x @ghoulstars @hannibalssweaters @lysergic-saturnine-desert @paganlatte @just-a-lunatic @ghuleh-101 @petalplush @ghoul-beans @raspberry-ghuleh @caligurl32 (even though you just posted about being lazy af with these things lmao) @catacombsaint @catwife @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @metalbandfantasies (I miss you girl, come back!)

[nangbaby]

Long story short, 20 years ago, this artist, Günter Nagler composed some really awesome tunes via MIDI, but since they were midis…I never knew what the lyrics were supposed to be, so I made up my own.

I’ve made different lyrics over the years for this one, but since I’m in a rotten mood, I took a stab at making different cover lyrics. Yes, a certain character was in mind when I thought of it.

I can’t sing for beans, so you have to imagine how it would go.

Again, credit goes to Günter Nagler for the original composition from his album, Interactive Love.

Melancholy Woman

Melancholy woman, is it time to say goodbye? Will you fade with seasons like the once glowing firefly?

And I would know the answer, if you would simply open your eyes. Part your lids and by the shape and color I would realize.

Saturnine girl, I beg you. Is my true love is doomed? Apocalypse maiden, will my devotion be consumed?

Please respond now. Your silent sadism brings strife. Is it time to sever the string that spans my entire life?

Melancholy woman, is your deep gaze another snare? Are you that doe-eyed beauty enticing seekers with your stare?

I must know the answer. Is destruction is all you see, Or does some part of your leaden soul yearn forever to be free?

Saturnine girl, please tell me if my hopes and dreams are doomed! Apocalypse maiden, will my devotion be consumed?

Please answer me. Your silent sadism brings strife. Is it time to sever the connections of my tired life?

(interlude)

Melancholy woman, are you ever going to tell me? Is it time to sever the red string of our destiny?

Melancholy woman…

[tothepit]

Getting to know me etc etc ✨

thank you to the lovely ones: @caligurl32, @lysergic-saturnine-desert, and @ghoul-beans for tagging me in this! 

✨💖✨💖✨

1) Name: Izzy. 2) Nickname:  Iz, mostly. My boss, Richard, calls me Izziah, or Dizzy Izzy… Also, Pit on here, lovingly dubbed by @spice-ghoul and @spoonriverrat <3. My friend/colleague/second mummy, Mikala, calls me Chicken! Maria calls me Margaret, (we have old lady names for each other for some reason) Dan calls me Awesome Girl or Hornet Girl (weird superhero alias inside joke thing alert) 3) Sign: Capricorn. 4) Height: 5’1. 5) Orientation: Straight. 6) Nationality: British. 7) Favorite fruit: Raspberries, kiwis, conference pears, blueberries, pomegranate seeds… 8) Favorite season: Late spring/early summer. 9) Favorite book: Harry Potter, duh. 10) Favorite flower: Daffodils or sunflowers. 11) Favorite scent: Karma by Lush. Pretty much always smell of that. Also Flowerbomb by Viktor and Rolf; it’s heavenly. 12) Favorite color: Pale pastel minty/jade green, and any shade of grey. 13) Favorite animal: I’m a huge dog person. Also cows. 14) Coffee, tea, or hot cocoa: Definitely not coffee - gross. I like herbal and green teas, and hot chocolate is good too! 15) Average sleep hours: Oh it varies. Usually around 5/6? This morning was an exception. I slept in till like, eleven so that was a good 9/10 hours. 16) Cat or dog person: Dog person, definitely. I do love cats tho!!!! 17) Favorite fictional character: Sirirus or Narcissa Black, Selket from Unreal Championship and…. does my little Earth from that darned Ghost fic i’m trying to write, count?? Yes, he counts. 18) Number of blankets you sleep with: One duvet, with a fluffy white blanket on top. 19) Blog created: Uh… I think… 2012? Abandoned it from 2014-2016 so actually this has only been active as @tothepit since October/November 2016! 20) Number of followers: 333 <3

okay so idk who to tag because… i’m pretty sure everyone has done this, so… maybe, @a-piece-of-shit-from-hell, @princezzie,  @veilofdusk, @gothyghuleh, @5horrorprinces, @linton-rubaeno, @a-sparkle-deep-within , andddd @hannibalssweaters?? if any of y’all wanna answer these 20 qs then go for it! 💖💖

[gcrlboss]

" you know those movies where the picture just starts to slow down . . . and melt? then catch fire? well, that's culiacán. " like the center of the eye of a storm, salomé arrives in the midst of bedlam. in media res. war is four years into the blood feud and colloseum games of waging battle against pestilence and famine on two fronts. two weeks before salomé is due, a cataclysm rocks the cortes household, sending marco and gabrielle at each other’s throats with mouths full of sound and fury. in the midst of war, in the midst of tempestuous, volatile, imperishable love, salomé is born. did they ever tell you that giving birth is like going into battle? the blood-soaked armour, the sweat and bellowing screams, the pure, animal instinct for survival. to live. to give life. to laugh in the face of death and claw your own mortality from his palms. gabrielle nearly dies in the operating theatre giving birth to salomé. and in a flurry of gunpowder and burning metal, marco steps onto a scene of utter carnage — from one battleground to another.

she comes into the world already a natural killer. she leaves a scar, four inches long, across the sutured war front of her mother’s stomach. she fought so hard to live, the doctors say, they had to cut her out just so her mother wouldn’t die in the attempt. there are words for what happened to her mother now, professional diagnoses: postpartum depression. gabrielle cortes spits out the words, tears apart every brochure and meaningful glance they try to give her, the grief weighing on her equal parts veined with a wordless kind of rage. she carves a fortress out of towering indifference and simmering resentment, shutting herself out from the world, and her family with it. there are logical, medical explanations for what happened to her. the reality, of course, is somewhat harder to stomach.

but she is the first girl, and the first daughter, and in spite of her mother’s near-death experience, she is her father’s first and only daughter. she is beloved by marco the moment he lays eyes on her, the moment he takes her into his arms, his coat beneath the scrubs speckled indistinctly with blood and possible brain matter. his darling little girl. in the first few weeks gabrielle starves her of love, it’s marco that wakes three times a night to feed her, nurse her, hush her cries and tears. it is marco that loves her something fierce; it is marco who promises her the world and whispers empire into the crown of her hair. even as she grows and grows, flourishing from child, to girl, to woman, this is the one thing that never changes. she is her father’s daughter, a consummate daddy’s girl. his violence in her blood, his saturnine view of the world and the role their family has to play in it. it’s almost funny—a great, cosmic joke that the old man in the sky has been playing on them since salomé was born amidst havoc and deathlessness—how much salomé looks like her. the woman who gave life to her. the gold of her stains her every feature, regal and kissed as if by the divine.

current events to hear her tell it, you would be forgiven for thinking salomé is an only child. but no, remember, she came in media res. she was the middle, the culmination. before her, there was remus. an odd name, no? why not romulus? why not rome, the very name of empire and heart of modern civilisation? because, salomé would always think to herself, a half-moon smile tucked into the corners of her mouth, even though he was the first child, he was born to come second. he was the first attempt, the model of prometheus and the first draft of homo sapiens pre-evolution. the same way eve came after adam. a progression.

but no, it’s not fair to call him only prototype. even they were children, once. violently spoiled and overindulged by any common plebian’s wildest imagination, but children nonetheless. those months at the summer palace when they would paint the hallways of their family estate with their laughter, those were magic. back when they were still young enough to smell of sunshine and naivety, the sweat-slick heat of the air clinging to their skin like bliss. moments trapped in amber glass, forever suspended in time and distant memory. she prefers it that way. they all do. the memories fade, the same way grand relics of the past are encased in glass for display at a museum — beautiful, and obsolete. perfectly preserved. and in her own way, salomé couldn’t imagine a world without remus’ shadow. what point would there be of victory if there was no one to be the vanquished?

maybe that’s a question better saved for darling saint. the baby of the family, the beloved. to this day, she harbours a lingering suspicion her mother named her youngest partially out of spite. her little saint, as opposed to her devil of a daughter that nearly tore her body asunder. in their youth, salomé adores saint the way a child can love a doll for a week and abandon it the next. he was, still is, so very entertaining to rile up. like a jack-in-the-box always coiled tightly in rage and spiralling impulse. he coaxes out the feral, girl-fury in her, the child buried amongst the wreckage of their home howling soundlessly to be heard. they fight like wolves, her and her brother. with teeth and fists and claws, answering rage with rage. you don’t blame starving dogs for tearing each other to pieces in the ring when they don’t know any other way to be fed. in the cortes household, survival is tearing out the throat of your enemy before they could sink their teeth into yours. only now has she stepped away from this war, bloodied yet unscathed.