#that he’s a foundational sacrifice with a good sense of humor about it

[stnkiconverse]

Human Eyeless Jack with Monster Eyeless Reader. A swap, where Reader gets sacrificed instead of Jack. The world where Jack is alive as a regular person.

Human! EJ x Eyeless Demon! Reader Headcanons

Setting the Scene

In this alternate universe, Jack is a regular human who stumbles upon the existence of the supernatural when he encounters you, a being who has undergone the transformation intended for him. Instead of becoming Eyeless Jack, he remains a medical student, and you become the creature he was meant to be.

---

Initial Encounter

1. Shock and Curiosity:

- Jack discovers you during one of his explorations of an abandoned building, where the ritual that was supposed to transform him into a monster took place. (the origin story I read said that the sacrifice took place in a cave, but lets change that for the sake of this..)

- He’s initially terrified but quickly becomes fascinated by your otherworldly appearance and the tragic story behind your transformation.

2. Medical Fascination:

- As a medical student, Jack’s curiosity about your physiology and the ritual that changed you takes over. He wants to understand the changes you’ve undergone and help ease any pain or complications.

- He often brings medical equipment to your secret hideout, trying to monitor your health and understand your new anatomy.

---

Building Trust

3. Earning Your Trust:

- You’re wary of Jack at first, remembering the betrayal that led to your transformation. However, his genuine concern and relentless efforts to help you start breaking down your walls.

- Jack consistently brings you food, supplies, and sometimes books to help keep your mind engaged and distracted from the pain of your condition.

4. Understanding Each Other:

- You slowly open up about your life before the transformation, sharing your dreams and fears. Jack, in turn, shares his own struggles with the pressures of medical school and the trauma of discovering the supernatural.

- This mutual sharing deepens your bond, creating a foundation of trust and understanding.

---

Emotional Connection

5. Unlikely Friendship:

- Jack begins to see past your monstrous exterior and recognizes the humanity still within you. He values your intelligence, sense of humor, and the strength you’ve shown in coping with your transformation.

- You appreciate Jack’s unwavering support and his efforts to treat you with kindness and respect, something you’ve been deprived of since your transformation.

6. Affectionate Gestures:

- Jack starts to show small signs of affection, like gently holding your hand when you’re in pain or bringing you flowers to brighten your day.

- You reciprocate by protecting him from other threats and using your abilities to help him in ways he can’t help himself.

---

Adapting to the New Normal

7. Adjusting to Your New Life:

- Jack helps you adapt to your new abilities, finding ways to make them more manageable and less painful. He researches ancient texts and rituals to find remedies and solutions.

- You, in turn, teach Jack what you find out about the supernatural world, helping him understand the dangers and the hidden realities of his seemingly ordinary life.

8. Finding a New Purpose:

- Together, you and Jack start helping others affected by supernatural occurrences. Your unique abilities and Jack’s medical knowledge make you a formidable team.

- You both find a sense of purpose in helping others, turning your tragic circumstances into a force for good.

---

Deeper Connection

9. Emotional Dependence:

- Jack becomes emotionally dependent on you, finding solace in your presence and strength in your resilience. You become his anchor in a world that’s become increasingly unpredictable and dangerous.

- You, in turn, rely on Jack’s unwavering support and his dedication to finding a way to help you. His presence becomes a source of comfort and hope.

10. Unspoken Feelings:

- Over time, your relationship deepens into something more profound. The line between friendship and something more becomes blurred as you both realize how much you mean to each other.

- Despite the physical barriers and the complexities of your situation, Jack finds himself falling for you, admiring your strength and compassion. You feel a similar pull towards him, appreciating his kindness and determination.

---

Facing Challenges Together

11. Facing Adversity:

- Together, you face various supernatural threats and challenges, learning to trust and rely on each other completely. Your bond grows stronger with each trial you overcome.

- Jack’s protective instincts grow, and he becomes fiercely devoted to keeping you safe, even if it means putting himself in danger.

12. Hope for the Future:

- Despite the odds, Jack continues to search for a way to reverse your transformation or at least make your existence less painful. You hold onto the hope that, with Jack’s help, you might one day reclaim some semblance of your humanity.

- Your shared determination and love for each other become the driving forces that keep you both going, no matter how difficult the journey becomes.

---

These headcanons explore the deep and complex relationship between Human Eyeless Jack and Eyeless Demon Reader, highlighting their emotional connection, mutual support, and the challenges they face together in a world where the supernatural and the mundane collide.

Hope this was good enough!!

[starbuck]

Lalo being slaughtered on and then entombed in the floor of the superlab, call that a foundational sacrifice.

[likealittleheartbeat]

I deeply appreciate how ATLA depicts all the main characters responses to trauma. Aang’s, for me, however, stands out for its rareness in media. And we are not hammered over the head with the idea that Aang (or any other characters) repeatedly act certain ways because of a single traumatic event. Sure, there are key moments in our lives when a certain event comes to the forefront, but no one experiences the world as constant flashbacks. Rather, we see only in retrospect the way our sarcastic sense of humor or our heightened friendliness were protective responses to a deep emotional injury. Being able to understand Aang’s approach to loss is essential for the show. The structure of the series is founded on his arc (despite an incredible foil provided by Zuko). Our little air nomad initially confronts the loss of his people with a full-on meltdown in the episode “The Southern Air Temple,” where Katara’s offering of familial belonging soothes him. But this kind of outburst is not Aang’s primary response (and actually the literally out-of-character apocalyptic tantrums align with Aang’s overall process of grieving). Instead of constantly brooding (hey Zuko!), Aang leans heavily toward the monk’s pacifist teachings and toward his assumed destiny “to save the world.” He becomes overtly accommodating and joyful, constantly trying to see “the good” in everything with a perfectionist’s zeal. This is not to ascribe his bubbliness only to his trauma. Rather, he comes to emphasize this part of his personality for reasons related to the negative emotions he struggles to face.  Book 1: Water

In the first season, Aang is simply rediscovering his place in the world. “Water is the element of change. The people of the water tribe are capable of adapting to many things. They have a sense of community and love that holds them together.” This is vital to Aang as he initially faces his experience. He won’t get through this if he is not prepared for his life to change. Even if he hadn’t been frozen for 100 years, his world would never be the same. This fact involves eventually finding new people that he feels safe with. After such a massive loss, he’s learning who to trust, and also often making mistakes; not only does he find Sokka and Katara (and I’d argue he’s actually slow to truly open up to them), this is the season where he helps save a fire nation citizen who betrays him to soldiers, befriends the rebel extremist Jet, and attempts to befriend an actively belligerent Zuko (his moral complexity had only JUST! been revealed to the kid!). He’s constantly offering trust to others and seeking their approval in opposition to the deep well of shame and guilt he carries as a survivor of violence. This is also the season where Aang swears off firebending after burning Katara in an overeager attempt to master the element (one will note how fire throughout the series is aligned with, above all else, assertiveness and yang). Aang is so eager to be seen as morally good to others that he refuses to risk any possible harm to them.  And asserting himself carries a danger, in one sense, that he might make a mistake and lose someone’s positive regard, and, in another sense, that he is replicating the anger and violence he’s witnessed. He has no relationship to his anger at this stage of his grief, so it comes out uncontrollably, both in firebending and the Avatar State. It’s through the patience of his new family that he can begin to feel unashamed about his past and about the ways his shame is finding (sometimes violent) expression in the present. Book 2: Earth In the second season he begins to trust himself and stand his ground. Earth, after all, is the element of substance, persistence, and endurance. The “Bitter Work” episode encapsulates how Aang must come to a more sturdy sense of his values. First, there is the transition of pedagogical style. While Katara emphasized support and kindness, Toph insists on blunt and threatening instruction, not for a lack of care towards Aang. Instead, it’s so Aang learns how to stop placing the desires of others above his own--to stop accommodating everyone else above his own needs. Toph taunts Aang by stealing one of the few keepsakes from the monastery that he holds onto. This attachment to the lost airbending culture is echoed in the larger arc with Appa. And, by the end of this episode, it is Aang’s attachment to Sokka that allows him to stand firm. This foreshadows the capital T Tragic downfall in the “Crossroads of Destiny.” Aang gives up his attachment to the other member of his new found family, Katara, despite his moral qualms. Although he has access to all the power of the Avatar state, his sacrifice is not rewarded. Season 2 illustrates Aang coming to terms with his values. He is learning about what he stands for, what holds meaning to him. Understanding himself also includes integrating his grief, and there’s a lonely and dangerous aspect to that exploration. We see Aang’s anger and hopelessness over longer stretches rather than outbursts in this season. It’s hard to watch and hard to root for him. That depressive state leads to actions that counter his previous sense of morality, as he decisively kills an animal, treats his friends unkindly, and blames others for his loss. Letting these harsher feelings emerge is an experiment, and most people discover their boundaries by crossing them. Finding ways to hold compassion for himself, even the harm he causes others, is the other side of this process. Our past and our challenging emotions are a part of us, but they are only a part. Since Aang now has a strong sense of community and is learning to be himself rather than simply seeking validation, we also see him having more healthy boundaries with new people. He’s no longer befriending villains in the second season! He’s respectful and trusting enough, but he’s not putting himself in vulnerable situations nor blindly trusting everyone. Instead, he’s more likely to listen to his friends’ opinions or think about how the monks might’ve been critical towards something (they’re complaints about Ba Sing Se, for example). By knowing what he cares for, he can know himself, the powerful, loving, grief-struck monk. And he can trust that, though he might not be everyone’s favorite person, he does not need to feel ashamed or guilty for who he is or what he’s been through. Book 3: Fire However, despite a sense of self and a sense of belonging, Aang and the group still find themselves constantly asking for permission throughout their time in Ba Sing Se. It’s in the third season, Fire, that initiative and assertiveness become the focus. And who better to provide guidance in this than the official prince of “you never think these things through,” Zuko. It’s no longer a time for avoidance or sturdy defensiveness. It is the season of action. Fire is the element of power, desire, and will, all of which require us to impact others.  We see the motif of initiative throughout the season: the rebels attempt to storm the Firelord on the Day of the Black Sun; Aang attempts to share his feelings and kiss Katara; Katara bends Hama and a couple of fire nation soldiers to her will. In each of these examples, the initiators face disgrace. Positive intent does not bring forth success, by any means, only more consequences to be dealt with. This is perhaps Aang’s biggest challenge. He is afraid that his actions will fail, or worse, they will succeed but he will be wrong in what he has chosen. The sequencing in the series, here, is important. We have already seen how Aang has worked to care for (and appreciate) the well-being of others and how he has learned to care for his own needs. With this in mind, he should be able to trust that his actions will derive from these wells of compassion. But easier said than done. Compassion can also trap him into indecision, hearkening back to his avoidant mistake in the storm, in which the whole mess began. Aang’s internal conflict, here, becomes more pronounced as the finale draws nearer. I think it’s especially significant that we witness Aang disagreeing with his mentors and friends. He must act in a way that will contradict and even threaten his sources of support if he is to trust his own desires. Even the fandom disagrees about the choice Aang makes, which further highlights the fact that making a decisive choice is contentious. There is no point in believing it will grant you love or admiration or success. For someone who began (and spent much of) the series regularly sacrificing himself just to bring others peace, Aang’s decision to prioritize his own interests despite the very explicit possibility of failure is the ultimate growth his character can have and the ultimate representation of him processing his trauma. (This arc was echoed and made even more explicit in many ways with Adora in the She-ra finale.) The last significant time Aang followed his desire, in his mind, was when he escaped the Air Temple in the storm. To want something, to trust his desire and act on it, is an act of incredible courage for him, and whether it succeeded or failed, whether anyone agrees or disagrees with it, it offered Aang a sense of peace and resolution. Now I appreciate and love Zuko’s iconic redemption arc, but Aang’s subtler arc, which subverts the “chosen one” narrative and broke ground to represent a prevalent emotional experience, stands out to me as the foundation for the show I love so much.

[theggning]

Danse! Danse! Danse! Danse!

One sec, let me just... dig through this massive pile of sobbing lovestruck metas I've already... oh man there were some under the couch too... phew I've done a lot of these.

So along with just general gushing, I've already covered why he is definitely a runaway and not an Institute infiltrator, my thoughts on his friendship with Cutler and how he talks about it now, why the cut ending of Blind Betrayal was dumb garbage that ruins his character, and why it's okay that Danse doesn't turn from his loyalty to the Brotherhood five seconds after he's traumatically removed from it.

So this time I'm just going to talk about his personality and how neat it is.

Danse seriously comes off as every inch the uptight Brotherhood bootlicking asshole that he seems to be at first glance. At first. Yes, Danse has been immersed and thriving in Brotherhood culture for well over 10 (closer to 15) years and so deeply steeped in it that it seems like there's little of him left untainted by it. Yes, he's bigoted against synths and echoes the standard BoS distaste for ghouls. Yes, he eats, breathes, sleeps, sweats, and bleeds Brotherhood, and he is fully willing to die for them if the need arises.

But even before the events that completely rock his foundation, Danse is struggling under the very system that he's serving in. He canonically suffers from PTSD, and is too much a workaholic/too busy to take the time to care for it. He's watched friends, mentors, and squadmates die in truly horrible ways, and he's starting to question whether it's all been worth it.

Sadly, Danse isn't confident enough in himself or his own principles to see what he's actually questioning, so instead he turns all his uneasiness into self-doubt. He doubts his own capabilities as a leader and blames himself for the deaths of Recon Squad Gladius. He says that his own mentor Paladin Krieg never asked questions, and wishes that he was good enough a soldier not to ask questions either. He apologizes that the Sole Survivor "had to see (him) at his worst" (ie: expressing emotions and humanity) and is thoroughly unused to the concept of someone liking him or being his friend on his own merits and not because of the BoS.

Beneath the soldier and the steel and the (really, really) offputting bigotry, there is a lot to like about Danse. He's a gentleman. He's polite, he's honorable, he has a strong sense of duty. He likes to help people and he likes serving a cause bigger than himself. He's interested in machines and history, muses about pre-War activities like fishing, bowling, going to live concerts, and seeing movies. He likes beer. He has a sense of humor so dry and deadpan it's easy to miss that it's there. And he also has his own code of ethics separate from what the BoS has implanted in him, more compassionate and philanthropic than anyone would expect from a BoS soldier.

(See: Billy the ghoul kid, the USS Constitution quest, the Minutemen, and the Covenant quest-- in which Danse is vehement that Dr. Chambers must be stopped, even though her torturous experiments target "the enemy." It's more important to him that this barbaric cruelty be stopped than that it find a way to "catch" synths.)

So the nature of Danse's character, really, is recognizing what in him is his own, and what was planted there by someone else. Who is the man separated from the Brotherhood? What does he feel to be right in his heart, and what has he been TOLD he should feel?

This is brilliantly illustrated in Blind Betrayal. Because what Danse needs to come out of it alive is, quite simply, the reminder that his feelings exist. Beyond what the Brotherhood told him, beyond what the Institute or anybody else may have programmed into him, Danse is his own person and has his own feelings. He is outraged by the accusation that his pain, his sorrow, his pride, his joy, and his loyalty were not natural parts of him, and that all of the sacrifices he's made over the years weren't his own choice. This is the point on which he finally turns on Maxson, and the spark he needs to find the will to live as his own man, despite the orders that he must die.

After Blind Betrayal, we get the chance to meet a fledgling new Danse who's been stripped of everything that's ever meant anything to him. He's traumatized, lonely, questioning everything about himself, his thoughts, and his body-- but for the first time in a long time, he has the chance to be himself, and the chance to choose who he's going to be. The open nature of the game's world and storytelling means that we don't get it illustrated for us in the game itself, but given his softening stance on synths and steps he makes towards accepting his own nature, I think it's fair to say that Danse is on his way to being a better man once all is said and done.

In other words, he is a Strong Flawed Sad Tragic Himbo Whom I Can Save With My Love, Bethesda was directly targeting me with his personality, and I love him to bits.

[cabinofimagines]

Lercy ABC’s

a/n ; this is the first time i’ve posted without being reminded ahahaha. anyway here’s this, give me feedback bc i’ll be at work and will most likely want to yeet myself into some adult beverages. so send positive vibes pls

pairing(s) ; leo x gn! reader x percy (poly)

requests ; holy shit this was actually requested : “Can I request lercy abcs please ? Thank you !”

wc ; 2198

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Leo is just happy to be with you at any point in the day. He finally has someone to talk to that isn’t preoccupied thinking of someone or somewhere they’d rather be. Percy is most content when his hair is being played with. He gets that dumb smile on his face like :] and likes to stare up at you while he listens to Leo’s ramblings.

Beauty - What do the admirer s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Percy personally loves staring into your eyes. He finds something new each time he looks at them in different lightings, even though you swear up and down that your eyes aren’t special. Leo likes how pretty your hands are. No he doesn’t have a fetish, but he’s just amazed at how pretty hands could be. I mean they’re hands.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Breathing exercises is something that Percy is really good at, so he’s the go to in the relationship when you’re having an attack. He can calm you down within 10 minutes or so depending on the severity. Leo makes it his personal mission to cheer you up after or when you feel down, often using Percy as a sacrifice to humor. But he likes tracing patterns on your skin, it helps both of you in the sense that you calm down faster and his heart stops clenching in worry.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

You and Leo are scheming constantly about your future, always making absurd plans about your futures together, but they’re never set in stone. Percy will join in occasionally to add his own ideas, but mostly he’s just admiring the two idiots he plans to spend the rest of his life with.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Leo tries to adapt depending on where he is and often that’s a pretty submissive/passive position. Percy naturally takes on the dominant role, but more of a passive dom presence. He doesn’t mind taking orders, but he’s not to be pushed around either. I think either of them wouldn’t be too pressed if you or the other wanted to take the lead for something.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Loyalty is Percy's fatal flaw so it’s hard to imagine him holding a grudge for longer than an hour at either of you. Leo will skirt around the subject until someone addresses it, but he’s not actually upset. He tries to avoid the problem which will rub Percy the wrong way since he likes resolving things when they happen, but usually the issue is dropped.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Leo is capable of taking care of himself… mostly. But he still greatly appreciates and enjoys when Percy and you baby him sometimes because he loves the attnetion. While he is the only one that’s really babied, each of you make sure the others are taking care of themselves too. They both notice when you do small things like making their favorite foods or gifting small things that remind you of them so they try to reciprocate that energy as well.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Percy is fairly open with everything that crosses his mind  once he’s comfortable and he loves that you feel comfortable enough to tell him most– if not everything too. But he has his moments where he’s not comfortable sharing everything. Leo is the same, but he still doesn’t like to talk about specific things. If you mention it, he physically will flinch at your words and you’ll know to drop it.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

The most you have changed Percy is how often he picks up after himself. He’s not a messy person, but he does forget to put things away after he’s done with them. You’ve had a few choice words with him after the first few times, but after you nearly twisted your ankle by slipping on a sock of his, he surrendered and swore to never leave a sock on the floor again.

Leo’s fatal flaw is his inferiority. He often feels like he isn’t good enough, but with both you and Percy wrapping yourselves around him constantly, he’s learning that he is the shit. This is why he doesn’t object when you two baby/ take care of him, because he thrives off of words of affirmation and physical touch.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

They both trust you enough to not get too jealous, but if someone is being persistent, Percy won’t hesitate you wrap both you and Leo up in an embrace of some kind. Leo can get pretty jealous, but usually hides it by amping up the pda and confidence. It can be embarrassing but no matter how much you scold him for it, you always wind up laughing and kissing away his jealousy.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like? Percy has one of those “leave you wanting more” kisses. He never kisses long enough. Leo is either playful and spontaneous or a deep kisser. They do mix it up to keep things exciting, but both leave you breathless no matter how they kiss.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

(so i kinda wrote something already but i’ll explain how you and leo started dating since that’s not explained.” It started with just you and Leo dating, as you two had kissed multiple times before battles and late at night, and Leo just had to bring up the “what are we” comment.  It wasn’t long after when you noticed how much he was staring at Percy Jackson. You were also staring, I mean who wouldn’t, but you teased Leo about it and he eventually admitted that he was interested in a polyamorous relationship… with Percy. (hence the fic)

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

For Percy, it was the day he met you and Leo at the ice rink. You three had gotten hot chocolate together before he had to leave, but he took a last glance into the shop window before walking away and the image had been stuck in his mind ever since. You both were squealing over the promised date he agreed to the next day. He wished he had a camera to take a picture, but he decided to commit it to memory instead.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Percy most likely will use variations of your name or even stupid names correlating to your godly parent. He’s not against using pet names, but you’re one of his best friends and it’s weird not to tease you even if you guys do kiss sometimes. Leo is a little more cheesy, but still kind of creative. He may call you an endearing nickname that correlates to your godly parent as well (ex. sunspot, flower) but he also likes using spanish pet names as well.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Percy shows it and does it know it. Although he can be romantic, he doesn’t spout that he’s in love to everyone, but it’s not like he’s hiding it either. Leo on the other hand is LOUD about it. If someone inquires about your relationship, he’s got a whole monologue prepared.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

If you don’t like PDA, you are so unfortunate in this relationship. Fortunate in the aspect that your partners are not afraid to show you off, but unfortunate that they show you off. Leo mainly does it to tease you, but also because he really likes staying close to you. Percy is very casual about it, usually wrapping an arm around one of you while holding the hand of the other.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Percy has such dad energy in this relationship. He’s pretty lame sometimes, but in the end you wouldn’t want to go without him. He can usually dissolve any petty spats you and Leo had started out of boredom, and he does with fluffy blankets and a pillow fort too.

Leo is mr. fix it. Not just when it comes to objects in the house breaking, (the poor sink has erupted one too many times thanks to Percy) but also when it comes to sickness or bad days. This boy has a solution for everything and he comes up with it in no time. Most of the time the solutions are good, very rarely do you have a bad option when it comes to Leo.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Both them are romantics. It's disgusting how sweet they can be. When those two put their minds together, they could set up a date worthy of a pinterest board.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Percy is like your right hand man, giving you advice and lending an ear to listen to your plans of success. He’s really there for you to bounce ideas off of when you need to, and also because he thinks you look stunning while talking about your ambitions. Leo, on the other hand, is your biggest cheerleader. He’ll show up to your events/work with a big smile and your favorite thing to snack on. If you feel like something went wrong, he was there to assure you that you looked hella badass.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Living as a demigod is already pretty dangerous, so I think that thrill is already met for both of them. However, if you want to travel somewhere, both would be down to go with you. As long as there is some sort of foundation of a routine there, they both wouldn’t mind leaving home.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Both are SUCH empaths. Leo can tell if you’re upset just by looking at your eyebrows and how scrunched up they are. Percy knows you’re stressing over something because he can feel the tension in your shoulders from across the room.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Leo has been searching for some type of affection most of his life and was shot down various times. He is not going to let this slip away after he found not just one, but two  people who cherish him and lift him up this much.

Percy as we know is super loyal. He’s already planned out your lives together in his head and he doesn’t feel like changing that anytime soon. He will do anything to keep you two beside him until his last breath.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

It seems unfair, but if no one can decide on who gets to sleep in the middle that night, you play rock, paper, scissors. It’s unfair in the sense that you had gotten way too good at the game which would provoke whining from Leo that you needed to change the game next time.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Percy is super cuddly and so is Leo, but when Percy has his bad days, he prefers to refrain from cuddles. After awhile, Leo and you learned that cuddling with two people was okay, but always looked forward to later when Percy would squirm into your warmth, a smile on his face like :]

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Percy distracts himself with chores and training, maybe he bugs Leo into joining him just so he doesn’t completely go mad. Leo usually tries to stay in the midst of chaos, if it’s loud then he has no time to miss you. If it’s possible, they might even try to plan a surprise visit to you.

Zeal - are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

With Percy’s flaw and Leo’s massive amount of love and obsession of not losing you both, this relationship is just full of people who are like, “I’ll die for you.” “Not if I die for you first.”

- - -

taglist ; @bandshirts-andbooks​ , @beneaththeiceandsnow​

[puzzlefated]

bio;

NAME.  Atem [Note: this name is learned and utilized only shortly before he passes into the afterlife. Likewise, it is the name he uses in the resurrection verse following his return to the mortal plane.] MONIKERS.  Spirit. Pharaoh. ‘Other me’ (per Yugi). ‘Other Yugi’. Yugi GENDER.  male ORIENTATION.  uncertain. Has experienced emotional draw toward people of both his and other genders, but has had little room in the course of his existence to figure out what attraction actually means for him in the first place, or what forms it takes.

HEIGHT.  153 cm / ~5 ft [Post-resurrection: 160 cm / ~5 ft 3 in] BODY TYPE.  petite and bird-like with narrow hips and lanky, knobby limbs. [Post-resurrection: taller and heavier than Yugi by, respectively, a small handful of centimeters and ~11.5 kgs (25 lbs). Trim and long-limbed, but lacking the soft features and juvenile figure that previously characterized his vessel.] POSTURE.  head high and shoulders back, never shrinking into himself or shying away from his right to occupy space precisely as he pleases. Prone to a slightly off-center lounge – (rolling his weight onto one leg, crossing his arms or propping a hand on his hip, etc.) – when at ease or in his element. DISTINGUISHING FEATURES.  unusual, multi-tonal hair.  An aura of commanding, self-assured gravity which stands at strange (or even unsettling) odds with his modest stature, and at times makes him seem larger than he is in reality. [Post-resurrection: strong, aquiline nose. Pronounced but neat brows. Remarkably long lashes and heavy-lidded eyes, often lending him a broody look. Medium complexion with warm undertones. Sonorous voice.] STYLE OF DRESS.  due to the fact that he is essentially a guest inside Yugi’s mind and body, Atem is generally limited to the items and styles that Yugi himself chooses to wear. However, he is prone to making somewhat more of a statement with those pieces than Yugi is apt to make himself. For instance, Atem has a characteristic habit of draping jackets and coats around his shoulders in the manner of a cape as opposed to placing his arms properly through the sleeves. Favors dramatic silhouettes, eye-catching materials, and bold accessorizing. Often uses dark colors as foundations or backdrops upon which to hang interesting adornments or contrast pieces. [Post-resurrection: experiments more regularly with colors, textures, and patterns. Heavily favors gold, bronze, and copper accents over silver.]

AT HIS BEST.  proud. charismatic. clever. loyal. honorable. resilient. imaginative. confident. resourceful. courageous. strong-willed AT HIS WORST.  PROUD. haughty. unrelenting. moody. stubborn. vain. smug. vengeful. erratic. single-minded. arrogant

TEMPERAMENT.  determined, stern, and composed at a glance. Solemn at times to a fault, though not without a certain wry sense of humor. Commands abundant attention and energy when he feels he has some role to play or goal to achieve, but apt to be perplexed or even a little awkward if he finds himself feeling too wholly seen or studied on a more personal wavelength. Tendency toward martyring behaviors and self-sacrifice, seeing it as his duty to use his strengths for the sake of good. Finds meaning and purpose in acts such as shielding those in need, coaching others to be the best versions of themselves, and doling out what he perceives as just consequences for failing to act with honor and integrity. The sort to encourage others to be emotionally authentic, express their feelings, and reach whole-heartedly for their dreams while simultaneously holding the cards about his own feelings and desires close to his chest. Doesn’t seem to wholly believe that it’s his place to have wants. ‘To be hungerless is to be holy’.

INTELLIGENCE.  a fast learner capable of not only understanding and utilizing whatever new information he acquires or observes, but also of making additional deductions, logical leaps, and educated guesses (quite often correctly so) based upon limited or incomplete knowledge. Does not possess a ‘traditional education’ in the modern sense, but is quick to adjust to the unfamiliar.

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

I have no knowledge of the office beyond memes, but I would love to hear a rant. Go off about it, you deserve it -Dream

dream, you are so valid, and a real one

bc i have Broken Wrist Syndrome i’ll try to keep this an abridged, bullet-point rant about How The Office Fucked Up Michael’s Possible Character Arc And I’ll Never Forgive Them For It but y’all know me and my love of ranting and hatred of following silly earthly body rules sooooo

tl;dr- michael scott’s character had the set up/foundation to have a, frankly, incredible character arc that could’ve meant something to a lot of the viewers and redeemed his character in a real, honest way but the producers of the office were too chicken shit to follow through with this and as such left michael to forever be a mar on the office name

okay so if you’ve ever seen the office, you know that michael is a discriminatory egotist who tends to be a piece of shit thinking he’s The Shit

there is practically no one in his life that he does not, at some point, insult, ridicule, mock- etc etc etc. this includes all his partners, all his coworkers, and complete strangers

and if someone he knows is in a minority or discriminated group (afab people, gay people, POC, etc) you can guarantee he makes insensitive jokes and jabs at them regarding that minority status

along with this, he has an extremely ‘i am the only person in the universe’ mindset, and he consistently betrays, hurts, sabotages, and ignores people who challenge this mindset

he’s immature, insensitive, discriminatory, and worst of all childish

the only reason i say his being ‘childish’ is the worst is bc of what it allows him to get away with

oftentimes his inability to face and accept the consequences of his actions forces the people around him to bend to his will and sacrifice what should happen for his feelings

it also, in my opinion, causes many office fans to overlook his large amount of flaws and instead focus on his ‘carefree, kind, no-harm-intended’ nature which is a problem bc Y’all This Man Is Not Good

however despite how crappy a character he is, michael’s character was almost expertly crafted for a sorta redemption arc as it were

it’s constantly talked about and referenced in show that michael had a lonely childhood, one i do sympathize with

he talks of his best friend being the lunch lady, numerous childhood stories lacking in friends, that one tv show tape where he say he ‘wants to have 100 kids, because then he’ll have 100 friends who can never leave him’, etc

it’s clear he was an outcast, likely due to his ‘wacky’ sort of personality

this caused him to latch on to the friends he could get- in the case of what the show tells us, this is todd packer, someone who is even worse than michael

this leads to michael developing his toxic sense of humor

now, while having a bad childhood and making bad friends is not a reason to be free of figurative sin of being a discriminatory asshole, it does lay the groundwork to redeem him in a missed-opportunity brilliance

because what they could have done is shown, gradually throughout the series, michael realizing that the office is truly filled with his friends... friends who don’t like his offensive jokes

and it’s fairly clear they are his friends! even as early as the first episodes they make sacrifices and tailor things to him, to make him happy and lift his spirits despite how rude he is to them

but despite the fact that he clearly has friends michael continues, throughout more or less the entire series (that he’s there), to act as if he’s still the hated, friendless kid who’s trying to hold face and convince everyone why they should be his friend

this is one of the worst parts of michael’s fuckery, as he refuses to acknowledge his friends while still being awful to them, ignoring their repeated outcries against his insensitive comments and behavior

instead, michael continues to be awful to his friends (who he does Not deserve), and the writers of the show throw the audience little pieces of scrap meat in the form of a tragic childhood to try and convince us that excuses his behavior

which is a fucking SLAP IN THE FACE to the audience bc y’know what???? y’know what?!?!?!?

michael’s character arc could’ve been great. it could’ve shown audiences filled with white cishet men with that exact sense of humor in a society that practically peer pressures them to be discriminatory assholes that that is not what makes you good, honest, real friends. it could’ve meant smth, smth about equality and fairness and rightness and learning from your past and becoming someone better despite all the mistakes you’ve made

and they threw that all AWAY

right up until he leaves, michael continues his awful behavior, and the only time he even gets somewhat better is when he gets together with holly shortly before leaving the show

that’s IT

the ONLY time he gets even SOMEWHAT better is for AMARTOTVITY REASONS

i cant spell that word and u cant make me

BUT MY POINT STANDS

anyways ik i did a tl;dr at the beginning but to sum up less eloquently,,,,, they could have done smth great with michael’s character and his character arc but they didn’t and they left michael a flat sucky character whose popularity to the fans baffles me to this day

[thebibliomancer]

Song of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 27

Song of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because satire is defeated. Now the only form of humor will be clever wordplay.

Last times on book: Kylan, Naia, Tavra (who is stuck in a spider), and new party member Amri are on a quest to save the Grottan Clan from millions of angry spiders who want their caves back and from the Skeksis Satirist skekLi. They also want to find a bell-bird bone to make a special magical flute with to warn all Gelfling about the danger the Skeksis pose. Both of these objectives dovetailed nicely when Kylan tooted on the bone to ward off the spiders and with the help of a pair of convenient urRu trapped skekLi.

That’s why you need a bard in your party.

Chapter 27

How do you solve a problem like skekLi?

urVa and urLii stop chanting but the effects continue, keeping skekLi from moving. He handles it with mature resignation.

“This is not...,” skekLi began. He shot a look at Naia and Kylan, then back at his Mystic brothers. “This is not nice - not fair!”

This is why we need to set out rules ahead of time.

The Skeksis could propose the rule ‘urRu can’t be used to paralyze Skeksis’ and then the Gelfling could propose ‘you’re not allowed to drink us.’

urVa, ever the most proactive urRu, tells skekLi to let the Gelfling go.

“Or what? You’ll raise that bow and run me through? And what happens to our other, eh?”

urVa stood watch while urLii began the winding descent down the corrie wall. He made the climb look easy with all four hands and his long-toed, bare feet, almost as dextrous as a spider himself. He paused on a ledge, half-hanging from the rock face, and tapped his chin. He was close enough now that his thoughtful murmur was audible.

“Hmm... That would be an interesting turn of events...”

urLii pls

That’s a heck of a train of thought! But please ponder non-existence on your own time!

Naia tells Kylan that they should really just amscray on their own. Kylan fearlessly steps in skekLi range to grab Tavra who is still plopped on the floor from the power of the bell-bird bone.

skekLi was spiny with anger, all the quills and feathers along his neck and the back of his head raised. His bloodshot eyes burned with hatred and vengeful excitement.

Body language! Pissed off vulture crocodile dinosaur body language!

Since he’s frozen in place, skekLi’s last remaining weapon is his wicked tongue wielded witheringly.

He warns the Gelfling that if they thought his spider servants were bad, wait until they see what his pal skekUng is making.

“Big servants. Mindless, heartless servants. Flawless servants, with claws that could snap Gelfling in two. See what Gelfling do then, eh... if any are left.”

Oh snap, thats what we call foreshadowing! And maybe dramatic irony?

This is another time in the book where Kylan has no idea how to respond to something so just doesn’t. I think that might have been three times?

I’ve been wondering how Kylan, Naia, and Tavra were going to get down with all the bridges broke but the freed Grottan just come flying in and scoop up the two Gelfling as skekLi can do nothing but glare.

Huh. So it makes sense that the Drenchen Gelfling have adapted to their environment by having wings that are more like fins. But why do the cave dwelling Grottan still have fully flight functional wings.

Although, if the story about the founding of the Grottan Clan are accurate, they’d be the youngest clan so maybe they just haven’t had time yet.

Also, interesting detail. It takes only one Grottan girl to carry Naia away but it takes two to carry Kylan. Dunno if Kylan is just heavier or whether Naia is using her own wings to lighten the load.

So now that they have a Skeksis trapped on a mushroom, the party has the grand ‘so what the heck do we do with skekLi we have trapped on a mushroom?’

Tavra cautions that skekLi won’t be trapped for long. Probably eventually the other Skeksis will come rescue and/or laugh at him. And then he’ll tell them everything that transpired. Then they’ll probably laugh harder. But even if he already told the others what the main characters are up to, they shouldn’t take that chance.

“What are you saying, that we should kill him?” Naia asked. “And urLii with him? That’s not right. urLii didn’t do anything wrong!”

“No one’s done anything wrong,” urLii corrected. He met them and the Grottan, dusting his hands of rocks and sand from his climb. “We are all doing what it is we do, what is our nature and our character. Right and wrong... are a terribly complex song.”

“But that doesn’t help us,” said Naia.

Pfffft.

Characters keep getting frustrated by urLii’s philosophizing.

Kylan tries asking urLii what they should do about skekLi but his answer is “I suppose that depends on your character” which isn’t very helpful.

Kylan realizes that he’s gotta be the tie-breaker between Naia and Tavra. Amri is also here but he’s not voting.

Huh! Funny how this book had a pattern of Kylan being the tie-breaker between Naia and Tavra but it hasn’t actually been Tavra for most of it. And now that it is the real Tavra, the pattern is repeating anyway.

So Kylan considers how awful the Skeksis are. What the Hunter has done in general and to Kylan specifically. How Tavra is a spider now because of skekLi. And how he tried to kill Naia, showing that he isn’t even loyal to his own kind (weird that that’s a minus in the column but whatever).

urLii proposed that there was no right or wrong, but that in itself did not seem right. It wasn’t wrong, either. The paradox gave him a headache.

“I don’t think we should kill him,” Kylan said in the end. “The Gelfling are a peaceful people. Even when we fight among ourselves. If we’re to be the heroes of this song, we must show mercy, even when we’re not shown mercy ourselves. The Skeksis have done terrible things to us... but I would rather believe that we can unite for the good of our people, not for revenge.”

Its a nice sentiment, Kylan. Its a good principle.

I know that I’ve had similar thoughts in the past. I’m torn because I know where this is all going. And I wonder if the near complete wiping out of the Gelfling clans could have been prevented if the Gelfling fought dirty. Maybe not. And the Gelfling become dicks in the future, even with the example of Jen and Kira as the foundation of their society so who could say what they’d become if they became cynical pragmatists to defeat the Skeksis.

I don’t have an answer.

It’s hard to fight the Skeksis because they have in-built hostages.

Tavra is disappointed that she thinks Kylan is advocating for just letting skekLi go but he clarifies that they DEFINITELY should keep him imprisoned here but someone will need to watch him and keep other Skeksis from finding him.

ENTER MAUDRA ARGOT.

Still picking bits of spiderweb from her cloak, Maudra Argot stepped forward from the small group of Grottan. Of the thirty-seven Grottan Gelfling, even fewer remained, bedraggled and afraid, some elders but mostly younglings Amri’s age. They had lost the Caves of Grot as well - all in exchange for the bone-flute. Kylan’s heart broke for them all, and he hoped that it was worth the sacrifice.

Oof. They were already so few and now they’re so fewer.

But anyway, Maudra Argot says the Grottan will take up the task. They’ll move into the Sanctuary and guard skekLi as they have guarded other secrets.

In fairness, they can’t return to Domrak. The spiders have claimed it. And even if Kylan helped evict them with the bone-flute, they’d just return. Caves are theirs again.

urLii also offers to help keep skekLi here.

“Between the Shadowlings and myself, I believe skekLi’s song has come to an end.”

That’s a fun way of saying that he’s not going to do anything important ever again and that he’s going to rot away on his mushroom prison.

Maudra Argot also tells Amri that he’s to stay with the group and go with them to Ha’rar. Wait, does she think they’ll actually make it there ever?

But she says she won’t be happy until the Vapra have to acknowledge the Grottan and also that Amri needs to grow as a person. Going on quests can help with that!

Kylan says they should get going. He needs to make the bone into a firca and he’s never made one so he doesn’t know how long it’ll take. And he can’t mess it up because THERE’S ONLY ONE BONE LEFT out of the entire extinct species!

He suddenly realizes the weight of the task after fighting so hard to get the bone. He wanted a purpose and he got one and a purpose does not sit light.

Kylan also really hopes that they don’t have to go through the Tide Pass again but he’d rather that three hundred times than stick around skekLi any more.

“I would give my life to stop him from escaping,” [urLii] remarked. “He is me, after all. But I do not believe it will be necessary. Even if it were, it would certainly be a dramatic moment, eh?”

You’re a weird guy, urLii.

Maybe you’re the one guy on Thra who thinks more in terms of stories than Kylan does.

“We spoke with Mother Aughra, before we came to Domrak,” Kylan said. “She had no words for us. She said only time would tell. That understanding the heavens would find us in our place, I think is what she meant. If we could understand the grand song, we would be able to find our way. But... the Gelfling don’t have time for that. We have to cut our own paths. We have to make the choice between being the weaver or the woven. The teller and the told. The singer and the song... But I choose to be both.”

urLii scratched his chin with his slender fingers and tilted his head.

“Hmmm! Weaver and the woven, eh? Where did you hear such fine advice?”

Kylan smiled and sighed.

“Goodbye, urLii. I hope to meet again someday.”

“We probably will not. But I will hear the song of the bell-bird again, yes... When light and shadows collide, under the triple suns.”

Aww.

Of course, Kylan has no idea what it all means. He’s getting some vague grasping of the bigger picture of the Great Conjunction but its still unclear.

On their way out, Kylan stops to look back at skekLi’s baleful gaze and starts worrying about his spiteful declaration about what skekUng has in store.

He wants to think its a lie but skekLi included too many specific details for it be something he pulled out of his ass. Like, who even is skekUng? The name drop means nothing to Kylan!

Tavra tells him to look away and for a moment, Kylan imagines that he can see her as she was, bipedal and not an inch tall.

“Forget him for now, or you will not be able to look ahead.”

He did as she suggested, turning his back on the Skeksis’s piercing gaze and hurrying after his friends.

Tavra here with the good advice.

I like that she’s not just here to be the one with bad opinions all the time. And that she’s protective of Kylan.

And since she’s now a tiny spider, she’s just emotionally protective of him.

She tried to protect Naia in Shadows so I just think that’s who Tavra is.

Anyway... OH NO only two chapters left??

[arashi-astrology]

Arashi Astrology: Their Emotional World (Moon Placements)

Ohno Satoshi: Cancer Moon in the 7th House

The Moon Goddess in the Mirror

Cancer, ruled by the moon, is the sign of feminine strength and leadership. The Divine Goddess leads with love and gentleness, a passive and indirect form of leadership but no less effective or firm. That is why Cancer is symbolized by the Crab, which moves from side to side to maneuver around the perilous crashing waves, always seeking security and comfort in their everchanging world. Those with a Cancer moon have a strong intuition and feel deeply, though they can often hide it behind their protective shell.

Placed in the 7th house, the house of relationships, of mirrors, the Cancer Moon comes across in a reflective sort of fashion. Those with a moon in the 7th often do not appear to be sensitive or emotional people, especially when alone. However, interacting with other people on a one-on-one basis brings out their emotional side, as if they can process and express their emotions by finding them reflected in other people. The normally calm Ohno when around others can unexpectedly burst into little temper tantrums and playful displays and even tears.

Cancer moons are looking for a home, but more the love and comfort associated with it rather than the physical place, and Ohno finds that in the relationships he has with people. He is attracted to those who are kind and soothing to be around. At the same time, he himself is seen as kind and soothing to be around, which attracts people towards him. He is the person who you feel comfortable voicing your worries to, even if you’re not sure he’s listening. It’s an aura that he releases unconsciously, and it causes people to mother him, to look after him and check if he’s doing ok.

Ultimately, as much of a hermit (crab) he seems at times, the key to Ohno’s emotional fulfillment is people. Like the Goddess he cares for people passively and indirectly, but still, warmly, receiving their love as he softly radiates with his own.

Sakurai Sho: Capricorn Moon in the 2nd House 

The Third Little Pig with his House of Bricks

To a Capricorn Moon, a solid foundation is no joke. Capricorn is symbolized by a goat climbing the mountain one step at a time and like that goat, the Capricorn Moon holds not only ambition, but a realistic ambition. That does not mean that they do not aim high, but it does mean that if they do aim high, they’ll come up with a 200-page plan to carry it through. To a Capricorn moon, work and achievement is key to emotional fulfillment.

That becomes even more true when that Capricorn moon is placed in the 2nd house, the house of material and immaterial possessions. Their financial security and emotional satisfaction are intrinsically tied, and they’re more likely to surround themselves with things of high value once they can afford them. That may sound materialistic, but it’s more that they are proud of how far they’ve come and their increased ability to provide not only for themselves but also for others (Capricorn moons love to give gifts to people and Sakurai definitely embodies that trait).

A common misconception is that Capricorn moons are dour, repressed, and boring, which cannot be further from the truth. Capricorn Moons can display a wicked sense of humor and mischief due to their ability to read a room, it’s just that they have a strong awareness of their public image, and thus tend to keep their emotions under control and well-managed. If a Capricorn moon is in good emotional health, they are incredibly adept at using their humor as a public and social tool. However, it should be remembered that they are more sensitive than they seem and can be too hard on themselves. The moon is the most changeable and fluctuating out of all the planets, and thus having the moon in the 2nd signals fluctuations in their finances or their self-esteem. It’s important for Capricorn moons to have a safe space where they can relax and feel unjudged and it seems that for Sakurai, Arashi is that space for him.

Aiba Masaki: Aries Moon in the 11th House

Mary’s Little Lamb who Loved Her So

Bless Aries Moons for their joy in life! As the first sign, Aries represents the beginning, and all the sunny optimism of it, and thus those with an Aries moon are childlike in the way they express their emotions: instinctive, naïve, and so very honest. However, they’re not just sunshine and rainbows. Ruled by Mars, Aries moons are action-oriented, impulsive, and defensive. They can easily become passionate and fired up about something, inspiring others with their energy. But, if they become impatient and let their attention wander, they can just as easily lose interest and hop onto something else. A significant part of this placement’s development is learning how to sit still and be patient. Yet, the Aries impulsivity and straightforward honesty is also its charm and its strength, helping them be trailblazers and leaders in their own right.

In the 11th House, the house of friends, communities, and society, an Aries moon devotes its energy to those groups wholeheartedly. They have a strong social conscience and wish to be of help to people, and this can be seen in Aiba when he tries to cheer up the other members or does his work without complaining.  For this placement, feeling belonging in a group and serving their community in some fashion is key to their emotional fulfillment. Once they have found their place, they light up the world, shining others with their warmth and joy. A moon in 11th can point towards great renown and recognition by others in society; those with this placement have the ability to touch people’s hearts from the other side of the globe. They have a social charm that endears others to them, however that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re social butterflies, as the scattered energy of an Aries moon along with the detached lens of the 11th house leads to these people having many acquaintances but a select number of friends. Which is just as well, as they are so loyal and devoted that there’s the danger of burn-out if they expanded their friend group too much.

Ninomiya Kazunari: Virgo Moon in the 12th House

Rumpelstiltskin with his Hidden Name

As the sign of service, Virgo is unassuming and humble, content to living a simple life, so long as they have found a place where they feel needed and useful. This is key for Virgo Moons, for without such a place their nervous energy has no outlet. They have a keen eye for detail that constantly finds things to improve and work on even if they are not consciously looking, and so if they don’t have a certain area to themselves to straighten up, they can become quite cranky and sullen. When in good emotional health however, these individuals are reliable friends who are good to turn to for advice. Ultimately Virgo Moons are practical; they know their limits, as well as the value of diligent practice and hard work.

When the Moon is placed in the 12th House, the House of the Social Unconscious, a veil is placed over the individual’s emotions. They feel far away and subdued. As a result, those with a 12th House moon have difficulty comprehending their own emotions and may need frequent periods of solitude to re-settle into themselves, especially since they can become absorbed with other people’s emotions when socializing. The distance of their own feelings can make a 12th House Moon believe they’re indifferent to everything—like Nino did when he came onto the show, “Honma Dekka!?”, to consult about his problem of “not caring about anything except games”, saying that he had little interest in himself and had no preferences when it came to the food he eats and the clothes he wears.  

In reality, Ninomiya does care. Maybe not about concrete day-to-day things (though it should be noted that he does like having a schedule and some consistency, that’s the Virgo showing), but emotions do bubble up unexpectedly, and nowhere is that clearer than when he’s talking about Arashi. His words unknowingly reveal the depth of his observations and the amount of thought he’s put into supporting the group and the other members. Virgo is the sign of service and the 12th House is the house of sacrifice; combine those together and you have someone who, at their core, is quite selfless.

Matsumoto Jun: Taurus Moon in the 11th House 

The Deity of the Mountain with all its Natural Riches

Taurus is the sign of the physical, the tangible, the five senses. Matsumoto, with his Taurus Moon, is ever so aware of the clothes he wears, the food he eats, the music he hears, and the temperature of his bedroom, and making sure that these are all to his liking is paramount. Taurus Moons have a sense for aesthetic, especially for earthy sensuality, and little by little, he sculpts the world around him into the life he wants to live. Whatever he has in mind he will succeed in, for there are few more persevering than a Taurus Moon.

Of course, persevering can be just a nice way of saying stubborn. It’s an astrology cliché, but not a false one. But what people often misunderstand about the Taurus stubbornness is the romantic sentimentality behind it, the passive femininity, because Taurus is ruled by Venus. They are protective and nurturing of those they care about, concentrating their energy towards growth, not destruction. In an unhealthy Taurus, this can manifest into possessiveness, stagnation, and delusion, but a healthy Taurus is at ease with themselves and the natural flow of life.

Having the moon in the 11th house means that Matsumoto, like Aiba, has a strong social conscious; his emotions are most visible when it comes to his community, his friends and colleagues. It is to them his persevering and loyal heart goes to; the combination of Taurus and the 11th House tends to make people the “mom friend”, the one who checks up on you from time to time, asks if you’ve recently ate, straightens your clothes before you go onstage. In the case of Matsumoto, this side of him is also visible when planning Arashi’s projects, he wants to do right by the fans, the staff, and of course the other members, and so he sits through long meeting after long meeting, trying to make sure that every member shines in their own way, that every fan has the best time they can possibly have. His efforts do not go unnoticed and people respond to that loyalty and care with admiration; it is what helped him first grab the country’s attention as Domyouji and it is ultimately what makes him MJ of Arashi.

[purgatoryandme]

Hey! I can't seem to find the post you made with all the books references in Illuminate Me and the reason behind it? Is it deleted?

I know that there is an incomplete one floating around in my reply tag, and it should be in the Illuminate Me tag, but tumblr’s search features are so bad that I went back to the original word doc of the complete list, so prepare for that particular storm lol.  Quoted/Referenced Reading List (In Order of Appearance) Shakespeare: Macbeth I opened on a Macbeth quote (‘When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lighting, or in rain’) because I wanted to start with something immediately relatable. Most readers were introduced to more ‘dramatic’ plays through Macbeth. Beyond that, they were introduced to the concept of pathetic fallacy, which I think plays nicely with Tony as a character (a man who is CONSTANTLY imparting emotion onto inanimate objects…and then actually giving them their own emotions) and with one of the core problems in IM, which is deciding the emotions of others for them. I was hoping to get the ‘feel’ of that without having to lean too far into the actual concept. 

Bonus: I picked this quote in particular because of the importance of threes in Tony’s life (his core group of friends, iterations of the reactor, number of times reborn, his bot children VS his AI children, the number of lovers or almost lovers he has in the fic, etc). Milton: Paradise Lost ‘What is dark within me, illuminate!’ is a modernization of the original Milton quote ‘what is dark within me, illumine’ for readability. I actually feel a bit bad about changing this considering how many people think this is the original quote now. This wound up being a central (and title) quote somewhat by accident. I’m fond of it because of how much I liked a different one that I had originally wanted for Tony’s thoughts of the reactor: ‘yet from those flames, no light, but rather darkness visible’. I had originally wanted to start off on a sadder note, one that showed how much Tony hated losing his humanity, and so the flames of Hell and their physics-bending concept seemed thematically appropriate. I had always intended to eventually invert the imagery – instead of Extremis being (to Tony) flames capable of extinguishing light, the reactor would become a water-like blue light that couldn’t be choked or recreated by any of the shadows that pursued Tony in his life. I picked Milton SPECIFICALLY for the imagery of light and shadows. 

But, man, listen. Darkness visible is a great concept, but it’s also tired. It has, as you’ve noted, been discussed to death. So as I was reading ‘Milton’s darkness visible and Aeneid 7’ to refamiliarize myself with some of the broader themes attached to that particular piece of imagery, I wound up thinking about how to invert the darkness itself instead of the overall concept. The flames of Hell extinguish light instead of having to exist away from it. It is a bad that cannot be penetrated by good. 

Instead of chasing away shadows, which would be implied by shining a light ON them, the request Tony makes here is to actually invert the darkness - to have it illuminate in and of itself. It’s becoming something better instead of being removed or forgotten. On the flip side of that, the darkness within isn’t growing as light weakens, but rather under its own force. Two forces equal in nature and origin in a person. It’s a different take on lighting than the one most critics hammer home. Long ramble is long, but this was the basis for using that quote. It grew from there to have many different meanings, however the core has always remained. All in all I’m pleased with it.

EM Forster: A Room with a View Very forgiving even in its satirical takes on human nature. A lot of passages are very therapy-quotable in their urging to accept the inevitability of causing some harm in life. It plays on a lot of the same concepts with light being obvious metaphor for good and evil that Paradise Lost does, but softens them into more realistic shades of human existence. Isaac Asimov: Foundation Continuing on with themes of rigid morality vs the flexibility and romanticism of humanity, we have Asimov, master of machines and the three rules of robotics! There are lots of quotable epigrams in this beast. The quote pulled from this has two readings depending on what you assume of the man who has said it. If you see him as manipulative, there’s an insidious underpinning of killing off your own morals. If you see him as a kind man, then you could read it as foregoing morals in place of empathy. Tony’s therapist loves a very specific brand of double speak that lets Tony work through the conversation purely through interpretation. Tolstoy: Anna Karenina Tolstoy’s prose is lengthy...so so lengthy, but Anna Karenina is worth the read as long as you relate to at least one of its major characters. Frankly, I think you can choose to read a single character’s plot arc and leave it at that. It’s mostly a novel that is interesting, not because of its plot, but because of its study of relationship dynamics. Tolstoy was really invested in picking apart the idea of what makes a ‘family’ and, beyond that, what makes a class. It’s refreshing to see so much of the critique occurring within the lived experience of the characters instead of through a narrator or outside punishing moral forces. Baudelaire: Windows and Benediction I cannot recommend enough reading multiple translations of Baudelaire poems (fleursdumal.org has a wonderful array available). Benediction is a personal favourite. I love me some malevolence wrapped up in religion. Dante: The Divine Comedy There’s a lot of bleak humor in Dante if you look for it. Several interpretations insist of making each piece excessively grim dark, but faithful translations tend to have a hint of humor in them. It works well for engraving War Machine’s spine - a benediction and a mockery of human limitations. I try to pick quotes that not only fit the scene, but would still fit into the context of the grander themes from whence they came...unless I hate the author. Tennyson: The Lady of Shallot “I am sick of shadows” vs “I am half-sick of shadows”. Tony’s expressing more frustration here with being alone and his passive involvement in that loneliness. Another quote I feel vaguely bad about changing, haha. The Lady of Shallot is a very nice classical piece that I’m sad isn’t taught in schools alongside Hamlet. There are some nice Ophelia parallels here. I wanted a feminine influence on Tony’s loneliness and one that is somewhat youthful despite his age. Yeats: Vacillation I fucking hate Yeats as a person. That said, the man can write. The man can REALLY write. His pieces are almost always layered to the point of absurdity and he’s perfect to swiping quotes with multiple meanings. Definitely Tony’s kind of author. Goethe: Faust Speaks for itself and in the author’s notes on its reference.  Dostoyevsky: The Brothers Karamasov IMO a book that deserves all the acclaim of Anna Karenina and then some. Very VERY Russian in its ethical debates of, as always, religious morality vs free will. Also dips into familial struggles and patricide, because it wouldn’t be a Russian classic if it didn’t contain some deeply buried bitter resentment towards paternalism. I’m going off-script here, but this is a fucking excellent book. I don’t really have words for how much I enjoy how Dostoyevsky explores the concepts that he does. Shakespeare: Julius Ceasar Shakespeare: Twelfth Night Twelfth Night deserves more credit for its development and maintenance of an enigma. Twelfth Night has charisma in spades both because of and in spite of the exceedingly petty actions of some of its characters. It is also a refreshingly simple take on love for the sake of it. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland Stephen King: Lisey’s Story I consider Lisey’s Story to be the best of King’s work. The man has his obvious writing ticks and his even more obvious issues as an author. Lisey’s Story contains many of them, but navigates them far better than any of his other work. The monster here is all in the mind and is too vast to truly see or understand. It’s perfectly representative of a creeping sense of inescapable horror. It was fun to flip it on its head with a reference here – Tony isn’t terrified of dying, but he is terrified of his inescapable enjoyment of Bucky’s company. Maria’s family saying is inspired by Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass Armitage: The Death of King Arthur A genuinely fantastic classic tale of heroism, filled with all the drama, tragedy, and sacrifice that you’d expect with strongly feminine undertones. I’m a sucker for this kind of thing. TS Eliot: The Wasteland Excellent piece of poetry with many layered meanings and dual interpretations. I can’t really articulate my thoughts on The Wasteland, but I reference an essay at the end of this list that does that for me. Oedipus Rex Rupert Brooke: Safety Not directly quoted but obscurely referenced through Bucky and Tony’s war conversations + Bucky’s conversation about, you got it, being ‘safe’ with his therapist. His poetry is about WWI and is, largely, idealistic. Safety is…not quite an exception to that. His other poetry contains a certain sense of honour and duty, whereas safety, maintaining a seemingly light tone, has nothing of the sort. It is safety in the soul – something untouchable by the horrors of war or death. It treats that as a ‘house’, which leant itself to the article Tony send Bucky. Armine Wodehouse: Before Ginchy Not directly quoted but obscurely referenced through Bucky and Tony’s war conversations + Bucky’s conversations with his therapist. This is also WWI poetry, though far darker than Brooke’s work. It discusses the parts of the heart and soul soldiers lose. It is an extremely good piece AND references Dante’s Inferno. I had to work it in somewhere even if I didn’t want to directly quote it. Meyer and Brysac: Tournament of Shadows Referenced several times over in discussion of war, the great game, and British military history. Beautifully self-aware account of Britain’s insistence on rewriting history after the fact and the tiny hilariously embarrassing moving pieces that shaped what is often considered the heyday of espionage. Murakami: Kafka on the Shore I love Murakami’s response to questions about understanding the novel as a whole. There are no solutions, only riddles presented, and through their interaction the possibility of a solution takes place. It’s a great lens through which to view the book and individual passages taken out of it. Reminds me of The Wasteland having to be read in totality before you can begin picking it apart, after which each individual piece can be read of its own. Kafka on the Shore, with its musings on the uncertainty of fate and redemption, was the perfect book to outline Tony’s horrifying realization, which he is desperately suppressing, that he might be coming to accept Bucky’s feelings. This quote in particular, while I would’ve used it anyway, is also a great callback to the first chapter and its storms. Chapter 29 is a turning point. Beyond it there are some intentional quote contrasts that are probably more easter eggs than they are anything else. Yeats: A Dialogue of Self and Soul Great contrast with Vacillation. Some parts of self and soul are used in that poem and thematically they are connected and contrasted - self and heart vs self and soul. The symbolism and imagery in Vacillation is really on point and layered, but Self and Soul is peak Yeats for its reversal of the typical ‘the soul is pure and bluntly honest and the body is tainted and bad’ in Christian works. Also Self and Soul’s broader context is scrumptious considering the debate poems history of relying on divine forgiveness and lack thereof instead of on forgiveness of the self. 

It was fun to give this poem a double meaning in IM as both hugely ominous and ultimately pointing to the later forgiveness Tony receives from himself through the divine (if the soul stone can be called that) in the heavens (space!). There’s also another fun twist to ‘who can distinguish darkness from the soul’ in its contrast with ‘what is dark within me, illuminate’. To take that a step further, Vacillation was the beginning of the path of forgiveness for Bucky (understanding Tony’s heart…somewhat literally as he slowly gets closer and closer to the reactor itself), while Self and Soul is a final step (re: Bucky being presented the final hurdle of Tony deciding to move forward alone). Hermann Hesse: Siddhartha Hesse is wonderfully blunt at times. I gotta admit I love German takes on spiritual self-discovery because they always seem to tend towards much more straightforward answers than other countries. Hesse’s relationship with Buddhism in literature vs his lived experience is also really intriguing. Anyway, Siddhartha, in its humanizing of Gods, is wonderful contrast to the consistent imagery of the untouchable and unknowable forces of good and evil in previously quoted works. It has stopped bringing humanity to the divine and has started placing the divine within humanity. Emily Wilson’s translation of the Odyssey One of the ultimate poetic epics. Now that we are nearing the end, I’m going overtime with making the grander themes of this whole piece hit home. A lot of IM was built on a foundation of poetic epics, of heroism, and a bit of Greek tragedy. The Odyssey embodies all of those things beautifully. It also suited Thor too well to pass up. Yeats: An Irish Airman Forsees His Death Ah, Yeats. Very blatant foreshadowing here that is keeping with the foreshadowing from Self and Soul. Fate has, up till this point, been a bit of a question. It has been ‘when will it come to me’ and ‘how will I avoid or overcome it’. Now fate is a set point. It is knowable and present. ‘I know I shall meet my fate, somewhere among the clouds above’. This goes for the true onset of Infinity War and for Tony’s feelings towards Bucky – when he had no one, he allowed Bucky in after essentially promising himself he wouldn’t. If that’s not an accidental admittance of love, nothing is. Henley: Invictus Absolutely fantastic poem. Continuing with the heavy fate themes coming into this climax. Now that Tony knows his fate, truly knows it, he is choosing to take it on directly. Agamemnon (Anne Carson’s Traslation if you prefer a more modern language approach, Lattimore is you prefer a classic) Agamemnon is forgotten all too often in the world of poetic epics and it’s a damn shame. I cannot say enough good things about it. I always wanted to use lines from Agamemnon in a Tony fic because the Cassandra parallels were too perfect to resist. The chorus in this play was also a perfect narrative device for interacting with something of a hive mind. Yeats: The Wanderings of Oisin Another poetic epic. Nice contrast with The Odyssey, The Death of King Arthur, and Agamemnon. Here the dialogue is between an aged hero and a saint looking into the hero’s past. It has the kind of reflective and aged mood necessary for this stage of the story, but is actually a poem I sortof hate. The line ‘And a softness came from the starlight, and filled me full to the bone’ is absolutely gorgeous, though. Some final inspiration pieces:

The Penelopiad 

The Iliad 

House of Leaves (for surrealism in the final chapters) 

Dante at Verona (used in an author’s note as an intentional jab at the dull uninspired nature of the this particular take on Dante. Repurposed quote, essentially) 

a broke machine just blowin’ steam by themikeymonster (great character study of Bucky) 

Frank Kermode’s essay “Eliot and the Shudder” (inspiration behind Tony’s entire interaction with literature)

[vagrantblvrd]

Everything Under the Sun (1/1)

Summary: Ryan does odd jobs for Gavin every so often. He’ll get texts with nothing more than an address and be expected to know what to do from there.

Notes: Because reasons.

(Read on AO3)

Ryan does odd jobs for Gavin every so often. He’ll get texts with nothing more than an address and be expected to know what to do from there.

Anyone else, and he could ignore those texts. Pretend he missed them while out and about on other jobs. Paying jobs, mind you, because Ryan needs to pay his bills, buy groceries, a million other little things, but he never does. (Anymore, at least.)

Ryan’s learned if something has managed to catch and hold Gavin’s interest, it’s important.

“Got a new job from Gavin,” Ryan says, glances over to where his roommate is curled up the couch. “You interested?”

The wolf lifts its head, lips curling up over its fangs.

Ryan doesn’t know why the damn thing chooses to live with him rather than stay with Gavin at that ridiculously large estate of his, but here they are.

Although to be fair, Gavin is trouble. Lives and breathes it like no one else Ryan knows and people in his orbit get caught up in it like breathing.

Hell, try to keep your distance the way Ryan did at first and you find yourself in trouble before you know it, and by the time you realize why you’re already past the point of no return. (It’s too late for Ryan, but maybe the wolf still has a chance.)

Ryan cocks his head, raises an eyebrow because the wolf is smarter than this, than him. Knows better than to blindly go along with whatever Gavin wants, and yet -

The wolf growls at him, annoyed that Ryan’s second-guessing it and Ryan doesn’t laugh, no. (That’s never a bright idea, because wolf, but he grins to himself because they’re both idiots, aren’t they.)

Ryan gets up to collect his wallet, keys. The jacket he tossed somewhere after a rough night.

Behind him Ryan hears the wolf hop off the couch, the click of nails on hardwood floors as it trails after him to the modest armory to decide what weapons to bring along.

A gun, because Los Santos is home to all sorts, supernatural and the more mundane. Throwing knives for that extra flair, non-throwing knife just in case, and okay, another gun because why not, and Ryan has so many. (He makes light of it as he selects each one, but the sobering truth is there’s a lingering ache in his ribs from the last time he did a favor for Gavin, and there’s no such thing as overkill in this city.)

“What do you think?” Ryan asks, checking to make sure his weapons aren’t noticeable.

Well, certain ones, at any rate.

The Vagabond has a reputation to uphold and people get uneasy when they can’t spot weapons on him.

The wolf snorts, unimpressed as always, and trots off towards the door. Not eager to get to get to business so much as annoyed at being handed another mysterious job from Gavin.

“Hey, thanks!” Ryan calls after it, and grabs another knife before he locks the armory up, just for luck.

========

Ryan’s human. (Mostly.)

Meets the main criteria at any rate.

He’s soft and squishy, bleeds red. Has breath in his lungs and a heartbeat in his chest, but things get a little weird on him after that.

Humans aren’t the only beings that are soft and squishy, it just depends on how you define ‘soft and squishy’, and the same goes for bleeding red. (Something, something, science, look it up.)

The whole breathing thing is fairly common, and again, science things. Most things that breathe have hearts and therefore heartbeats (science?), but that’s also where things get tricky.

Because that heartbeat of Ryan’s?  

It echoes the one he can feel under his feet sometimes, strong and steady and goddamned old.

Sunk deep in the earth beneath the streets of Los Santos and it never falters even under the worst circumstances. Ryan likes to use it to ground himself when things get weird(er), and is aware that being able to feel a city’s heartbeat is one of those Weird Things. (He’s a hypocrite, live with it.)

There’s nothing special about Ryan, except for the things that are.

Might seem strange, given the amount of people, beings, he’s run into who hiss and make warding signs at him when their paths cross. The ones who tell him death follows him as though he has no idea. As though he doesn’t visit it on the deserving every chance he gets, but that’s life for you.

Somewhere along the way he started painting a skull on his face and wearing a mask to match because death is in his blood, no matter how many generations back it goes. (His sense of humor has always been dark.)

Ryan’s human (mostly), but he fits in with the monsters and worse that have taken refuge in Los Santos far better than anywhere else he’s been, and that suits him just fine.

========

Gavin’s text takes them to an old warehouse by the docks, because of course it does.

Seedy looking place that has the wolf growling the moment it jumps out of the car. Amber eyes finding Ryan’s as it scents the air, ears going back.

“Yeah,” Ryan says, sinking feeling in his gut because for all that Gavin likes to play coy about things, he’s a predictable bastard. “I know, buddy. I know.”

Ryan knows sometimes, what a place is even before he sees the evidence for himself. Gets a feel for it, negative energy sunk into its foundation over time. (He doesn’t like to call it an aura, because that pulls out the skeptical looks like nothing else, but it is what it is.)

It’s all part of the same thing that lets him feel a city’s heartbeat, and the occasional head’s up about a situation before shit goes wrong on him. (Again, he doesn’t like to call it intuition or a premonition because for all that Los Santos is full of the otherworldly some things still get a sideways look, have people wondering if you’re just good at faking like you belong here.)

Then again, it could be the way people just do things without realizing it. Copying what they’ve seen work elsewhere, piggybacking on someone else’s trial and error and hard work because why fix it if it isn’t broken? Unconscious choice perhaps, but he’s seen it enough to recognize the patterns people fall into.

And this place -

Ryan’s seen others like it before. All over Los Santos, other cities and places he’s been.

Varies from place to place, city to city. Whatever people think they can get away with. From throwing animals or people into the ring to fight for the audience’s entertainment to here where some people are both depending on the cycle of the moon and so on.

The best ones police themselves, when it comes down to it. Operate by a set of rules governed by morals, but those are few and far between here in Los Santos.

Result in things like the wolf at his side, scarred up and fucked up, a lot of anger to it still.

Place like this, there are no rules, which means you get people, beings, trapped by some contract or other. (Worse, most of the time, and only one way out for them.)

Assholes who run places like this love going after the lost and the hopeless, and too often that means people with a little magic in their blood. Offer them food in their bellies and a roof over their head. Have them sign a contract and never mind the fine print, they’ll go over it later, promise. (They fight harder, heal faster. Draw in the crowds when the assholes running the place pitch the fights as wild, exotic, and rake in the rewards.)

Wrap collars and chains around their necks and lock them into a life of pain and suffering, just so rich assholes get a taste of something exciting without having to sacrifice anything on their end.

The wolf snarls, raw, angry, and Ryan’s gut twists when it ends in a low whine almost too soft to hear.

“You can stay with the car,” Ryan offers, even though he knows the wolf won’t go for it. “God knows I don’t like leaving it out here.”

It’s a pretty little thing, gift from Gavin way back when for services rendered dealing with a little problem of his. All kinds of magics woven into it over the years from Gavin and the Twins.

Protective wards. Things meant to keep him as safe as he can be in a city like this, but Gavin’s a menace and the Twins are almost as bad as he is and toss in little oddities here and there to keep things interesting. (He’d rather they didn’t because their definition of ‘interesting’ differs from his, but again, menaces.)

Ryan’s gotten attached to it, grown fond, and it responds in kind. Stubborn thing, metal warm under his hand even on the coldest days Los Santos has to offer. (Low purr of its engine in the back of his head that’s friendly and affectionate, got this little curl of a smile from Gavin the first time Ryan asked about it, so Ryan figures it can’t be a bad thing.)

The wolf cocks its head, eyes narrowing, and then huffs, Shows off its fangs with a little snarl and trots on ahead of Ryan. Stops a few feet away and looks back as if its wondering why the hell Ryan’s just lollygagging about like that when there’s work to be done. (Gavin never sends them out without a reason.)

“Okay, okay,” Ryan mutters, and hurries to catch up.

========

The wolf sticks close to Ryan one they get inside, head up, ears flicking back and forth as it pads over to watch a kid in the ring.

Short guy, wild grin on his face and manic energy to him. He’s up against someone twice his size with this gray-green tinge to his skin that hints at orc or ogre blood in the family tree somewhere, but the kid doesn’t seem intimidated in the least.

Just grins wider as he pushes himself back to his feet with a taunt ready to go, never mind the nasty hit he just took. (There’s a chain around the kid’s neck, shines silver under the light and angry red marks under that goes a long way to explain what someone like him is doing in a place like this.)

The wolf growls, and Ryan glances down when it presses against his leg, feels the anger running through it to cover the fear and dread.

“Yeah,” Ryan says again, answering anger in his chest because he knows why Gavin sent them here. “What do you say we pay the asshole running this place a visit, huh?”

Ryan’s made more of a name for himself since the wolf came along than he ever did when it was just him and his mask roaming the streets of Los Santos.

People in Los Santos know Ryan works for Gavin from time to time, knows the wolf’s part and parcel of that. Know goddamn well the kind of trouble to expect whenever the two of them darken their doorstep.

Ryan catches the eye of the bruiser running security. Gives him this little look, and the guy pushes off from the wall he’s leaning against to take them to his boss.

Stops just outside a door and puts a hand on Ryan’s chest and looks pointedly at the wolf.

The wolf snaps its teeth at him and gives him a warning growl.

“Trust me,” Ryan says, showing some teeth himself. “The wolf won’t be the problem here.”

You’d think it would be, wouldn’t you. Big bastard, all scarred up from past fights and this glint in its eyes like it’s just waiting for the right moment to rip your throat out, but you’d be wrong.

The guy looks Ryan over, mouth turning down as he thinks better of challenging the two of them.

The wolf dismisses the guy with a flick of its ears, gives Ryan this look like he doesn’t know why they’re wasting their precious time like this.

“We’ve got it from here,” Ryan says, and gives a perfunctory knock on the door before pushing it open.

There’s another goon inside.

Bigger, dumber than the one who escorted Ryan and the wolf up here and he’s sporting a shiny little gun in a fancy holster.

Not shy about it, and Ryan watches as the guy goes for it before a curt order from his boss stops him.

Ryan recognizes the voice, knows who it is before he looks over to see a mousy little man in a bad suit. Balding already even though he can’t be a day over thirty and this scar on his cheek from a past encounter.

“Corbin,” Ryan says. “Why am I not surprised to see you here?”

Corbin’s a slippery bastard, has a lot of powerful friends around the city and isn’t shy about calling on them for help when he lands himself in trouble. Earns his keep by overseeing the business side of things for his buddies, makes sure they earn profits from other people’s suffering.

Doesn’t like to get his hands dirty when he can delegate, and clever about it.

It wasn’t that long ago when Ryan let him live to deliver a message to his bosses. Another ring like this one up north, small dirty thing in an old barn and just pulling in enough money to keep the place running.

“Vagabond,” he says, eyes flicking to the wolf beside Ryan. “And his stray.”

The wolf growls, low in its chest. A warning, watch your mouth ad no mystery what happens if he doesn’t.

Ryan and Corbin have a little stare-down, the wolf watching silently. Doesn’t know that Ryan and Corbin have history, used to work for the same people way back when. (Both of them younger and stupider and Ryan  new enough to the city to think Corbin was someone he could trust.)

Ryan cocks his head and Corbin sighs.

Knows if Ryan and the wolf are here there’s a reason for it. (And the reason’s name is Gavin.)

“One of these days, Vagabond,” Corbin says, leaning forward in his seat. Ready to make a deal because his current boss knew Ryan would come sniffing around because Ryan’s gotten predictable about these kinds of things. “One of these days my clients won’t back down.”

Oh, Ryan knows.

Most of Corbin’s clients are idiots, but they’re smart enough to know when to pick their battles.

Places like this aren’t worth losing their people over. (They bring in money, sure, but not as much as their other operations. Figure throwing the likes of Ryan a bone like this will tide him over.)

The wolf snarls, out of the loop when it comes to Ryan and Corbin and this little dance they’ve been doing for years now because Corbin is a goddamned cockroach.

Corbin glances at the wolf, mouth pulling into a pained grimace.

“What do you and your...friend want?” he asks, impatience beating out his usual arrogance and smugness.

Ryan glances past Corbin at the window overlooking the ring where the kid’s picking himself up again. Mouth moving as he goes for what Ryan can only assume is another taunt as he wipes blood off his chin, cocky grin and so goddamned stupid it hurts.

He thinks about Corbin’s question for a moment, like there’s anything to> think about.

Not with Gavin’s text and the idiot kid in the ring. What he and the wolf have seen of this place so far. The fact Corbin’s even here.

As much as Ryan would love to burn this place to the ground on principle, he doesn’t want to kick off a war. (Bloody, messy, and too much risk of pulling bystanders into it.)

They have Gavin’s backing on this, but they’re still vulnerable as these things go. Can only push so hard until something gives, and Ryan’s learned to be smart about these things.

“Well, since you ask so nicely,” Ryan says, nods toward the ring where the kid’s dancing around his opponent, laughing like an idiot as he goads him into attacking. “His contract would be a good place to start.”

========

Corbin sends two of his lackeys with Ryan and the wolf when they go to get the kid. Escorts them to the locker rooms so they don’t get lost along the way.

When they step into the locker room where the kid’s been sent, another one of Corbin's lackeys is threatening the kid.

They’re too far away for Ryan to make out what’s being said, but the wolf does. (Or maybe it’s the sight of the burly guy with the knife in his hand with the kid backed into a corner that sets the wolf off, Ryan doesn’t need an explanation in a place like this.)

The wolf’s moving before Ryan can get a word out. Deep-throated growl that shifts into a more human sounding snarl of rage that echoes against the walls as he darts past Ryan. Clawed hand brushing against Ryan’s side and lackey’s startled cry as the wolf pins the lackey to the wall, one of Ryan’s guns pressed under his chin and the room goes silent.

Takes a few seconds for it to happen, human reflexes too damn slow by far to keep up and the wolf grins, vicious little thing with his teeth on display.

Ryan glances at the lackeys who escorted them down here. Hands on their guns and spooked as hell, but smart enough not to draw down on the wolf. (Yet.)

The kid’s staring, wide eyes and open-mouthed. His hands make this aborted motion like he wants to reach out to the wolf but isn’t sure he should, that he’s allowed, and shrinks in on himself. (Darts Ryan this look from the corner of his eye.)

Ryan steps forward, moves into the wolf’s peripheral.

“Michael,” Ryan says, low, quiet.

Never an order with him, because bullheaded as he is Michael won’t listen.

Will snap and snarl and bite the hand that feeds just to prove he can, that the collar someone wrapped around his throat all that time ago thinking they could control him isn’t there anymore.

“Uh,” the kid says, shooting Ryan a nervous look when Ryan waits for Michael to decide how this plays out. “Hey, pal. I appreciate the gesture, but you’d just be making so much work fr the cleaning crew, you know? All that blood, and let’s not even get into him pissing himself...”

It works. The meandering babbling coming out of the kid’s mouth Ryan wasn’t going to mention it, but the kid’s right. The lackey’s terrified, and rightfully so, because Michael's been in places like this before. Wore a collar around his neck like the one the kid’s sporting and treated like nothing more than a rabid animal.

He has no tolerance for people like these, but where he’d ignore Ryan he’s listening to the kid. Head cocked, grip on the lackey easing up enough for the idiot to pull in a full breath instead of the wheezing gasps Michael allowed him.

Ryan watches the kid as he talks Michael down, voice pitched low, soothing, as he inches closer to him. Reaches out to rest a hand on his shoulder, simple touch not meant to hurt. (To ground Michael.)

“C’mon, buddy,” the kid says, light tone because hey everything’s fine here, no need to kill this moron. “Guy’s not worth it.”

The kid says it like he means it, but the look on his face says differently.

Michael has to know, smell it on him, but the kid’s still working on talking him down because he’s smart enough to know the odds aren’t great for them.

Even with Gavin’s backing, they won’t make it a step past the locker room before Corbin’s people cut them down. (Pride’s a bitch like that, will make people fight a war neither side will call a victory when the dust settles.)

“Next time,” Ryan says, shows his own teeth when the other lackeys jerk towards him like they’d forgotten about him.

He gets it, he does.

Ryan’s human (mostly), and they’ve been trained to focus on the more immediate threat of a shifter like Michael, the kid. All the other poor bastards they push into the ring night after night for the sake of entertainment.

They forget, though, that Ryan’s got a reputation of his own that Gavin has nothing to do with. One that  gets overlooked in a city like Los Santos with all the things that go bump in the dark.

Forget what they’re capable of themselves, all kinds of atrocities humans think up on their own in broad daylight and see no problem with.

Michael snarls, shoves the lackey into the wall hard enough for his head to bounce against the tile and lets the asshole go. Flashes Ryan an indecipherable look before he tosses his gun to him and stalks off.

Ryan lets him go – couldn’t stop him even if he wanted – and looks at the kid.

“Grab your stuff,” he says, and shows his teeth when the lackeys look like they have something to say to that after Michael’s show. “We’ve got places to be.”

========

Gavin’s estate is in the hills above Los Santos. Large sprawling thing that backs up into a wooded area. Goes on for a significant distance, kind of real estate developers drool over but no one comes knocking on Gavin’s door hoping to make a deal.

“What the fuck is that?”

First thing the kid’s said on the drive out here.

Scrunched up looking as small and harmless looking in the back of Ryan’s car as he can while Michael scowled out his window, wind ruffling his fur. (There’s a reason Michael prefers his four-footed form these days, and Ryan just goes along with it because that’s none of his business.)

“It’s a dragon,” Ryan says, shadow falling over his car as they make their way up the winding driveway to the ridiculously huge house Gavin lives in. “Never seen one before?”

Broad-winged bastard from across the ocean, young for his kind, maybe, but still damn impressive.

Reckless, to have settled so close to humans. Fond of them in ways he shouldn’t be and breaking dragon etiquette all over the place. (To hear him tell it is why he picked America, found his way to Los Santos.)

He’s waiting by the house (mansion, really) when they pull up to it, two small specks of black on either shoulder in Trevor and Alfredo.

Ryan’s not sure if it’s luck or sheer coincidence they got here just as the three of them finished a flight, or if it’s something Gavin planned. (Likes to play these little games, Gavin does.)

“Uh….” the kid says, like he’s wondering if he’s any better off with his new situation or not. “What the fuck?”

Dragons are rare enough these days, all the old stories about them stealing princesses away and the knights tasked with killing them to save said princesses. Magical healing properties of their horns, their scales. Blood and talons and God knows what else and no reason they went into hiding so long ago.

Gavin took a risk making his presence known in Los Santos, but he has powerful allies in the city and beyond. The kind that make even the most ruthless here in Los Santos think twice.)

He’s a broker of sorts, has the Twin gather information for him and a network of contacts all over the city. Made himself indispensable, useful, enough that people don’t think to ask why he came to Los Santos to begin with. Why he’s set up shop overlooking the city, who sent him.

Michael snarls, pawing at the door handles to get his door open. It takes him a few tries, but Ryan knows better than to offer to help him, and he and the kid watch as Michael jumps out of the car to run up to Gavin.

Big bastard who towers over them, and there Michael is snapping and snarling at him while Gavin laughs at him, little hissing noises and small fluttering motions with his wings. Tip of his tail flicking like a cat’s.

The sight used to be cause for concern for Ryan, used to make him feel uneasy because dragons are...they’re on another level to most beings Ryan’s met over the years. Clever assholes with schemes and agendas all their own.

Ryan bites back a laugh when the kid mutters something that sounds a hell of a lot like what the fuck is my life?

========

“You know,” Ryan says, can of diet soda in hand and this mild sense of bewilderment at why the hell he keeps working for an asshole like Gavin. “You could have just told us.”

Would have been nice to know what he and Michael would be walking into, just this once.

Gavin hmms, gleam in his eye and this little curl to his mouth.

Back in his human form, shiny bits of gold and jewels, because it’s Gavin. (There’s the whole thing where he’s a dragon and it’s expected, but mostly it’s just...Gavin.)

“Where’s the fun in that, Ryan?” he asks, turning back to watch the wolves chasing each other, Trevor and Alfredo heckling them from the safety of the trees.

The kid – Jeremy – was on his best behavior, like he thought they’d throw him back into the ring if he stepped out of line, and Michael wasn’t having it. (Not when he knew why the kid is so skittish about that.)

Stood by while introductions were made and Gavin extended his usual offer to Jeremy. (Always sounds too good to be true, which is why Ryan keeps getting new roommates out things like they think he’s a safer bet than Gavin.)

The moment Gavin was done talking, Michael bullied Jeremy (gently) into shifting. He was nervous, awkward about it, like he wasn’t used to it.

Clumsy on four legs and stumbling after Michael at first, gaining confidence when Michael nudged him along until he got him to play. Chase him through the wooded area, a higher level of tag for a pair of werewolves like them. Tumbling him whenever he caught up to him, play-fighting and safe.

Ryan takes a sip of his drink, because he’s had this talk with Gavin before.

Gone round and round about it and Gavin either playing dumb or having no damn clue what Ryan’s talking about when he tells him Gavin is an asshole about things. (Michael’s tried the same, and gotten just as far as Ryan has, which is nowhere.)

“You and I have different definitions of what ‘fun’ means,” Ryan says.

Gavin laughs, and is absolutely not being a smug bastard about things.

New member for this odd pack he’s been building out here and this smirk whenever Ryan asks him about it. (Says things like ”it’s a secret”, and ”just you wait”, and ”oh, Ryan, it will be so much fun once everyone’s here.”)

It should worry Ryan more than it does, but for whatever reason he trusts Gavin. (Possible mistake, but Ryan likes to think he’s a decent judge of character.)

“Yes, well,” Gavin says, and shrugs as though that’s any kind of answer. “You’re still here aren’t you?”

Ryan doesn’t know if Gavin means Los Santos in general or the estate, but he does have a point.

“Maybe I’m just biding my time,” Ryan points out, because like hell will he let Gavin be right about everything.

========

“He’s an asshole,” Michael says later, back on two feet and watching Gavin and the Twins talking to Jeremy about something or other while Jeremy listens. Takes in everything he say far too seriously because he doesn’t know Gavin yet, doesn’t know he’s a little shit about things. (He’ll learn soon enough if he decides to stick around.)

Ryan doesn’t know who Michael’s talking about, but either way he’s not wrong.

“Yeah, well,” Ryan shrugs. “Never would have guessed.”

Shocking, really.

Michael snorts, gaze sliding towards him.

He always seems amused by Ryan and everything he chooses to be, which should be more insulting than it is, and yet?

“No offense,” Michael says. “But you’re the worst loner I’ve ever met.”

Ryan sighs, the bullshit he’d spewed when he and Michael met coming back to bite him in the ass.

“Look,” Ryan says. “Using my own words against me is a terrible thing to do.”

Ryan was a different person back then, sharper edges and more of an asshole than he’s comfortable admitting. Used to the way the world, this city, likes to fuck people over and expecting much the same from Gavin and whatever schemes he had up his sleeve. (Michael.)

Believed the bullshit coming out of his mouth because it had worked for him up to that point, and he hadn’t expected that to change.

Michael makes this little noise of agreement, mouth quirking into this almost-smirk.

“Yeah, well,” he says, mimicking Ryan because he loves giving him shit. “Deal with it, you’re stuck with us now.”

Funny, Ryan thought it would have taken Michael longer to come to terms with this new arrangement.

Ryan looks over when Jeremy’s voice rises in disbelief, expression on his face like he cant fathom how stupid Gavin is while Gavin’s laughing like an idiot. The Twins grinning like a pair of demented Cheshire Cats and none of it seems strange to Ryan in the least.

“Yeah,” Ryan says, that little itch he gets when it’s time to get the hell out nowhere to be found. “Guess I am.”

[hellorickturner-blog]

Daniel Carpenter Taking Things to a New Level

Daniel Carpenter is far from your average senior. He doesn’t take life slow or easy, in fact when most people his age begin to become less active, Daniel Carpenter speeds his life up. So what makes this 64 year old, retired army captain, licensed private investigator, and former professor with a PH.D. in Drama do for fun? The answer may surprise you. Currently, Carpenter is learning MMA and pursuing a career in Rap! Rap Music to be precise and like everything Daniel had ever applied himself to he’s giving it 110%.

Carpenter was born on November 5th 1955 in the back of a farm truck on route 315 in Simsbury, Connecticut (a suburb of Hartford) on the way to the hospital, in a thunderstorm. Already an unusual start to this extraordinary man’s life, at the age of five, he was already showing incredible abilities. Carpenter wrote and performed a cello concerto featured in a local town’s christmas pageant. He was also known to be incredibly athletic, competing against boys much older then he in the annual township’s swim competition. “I was about five or six around that time and the high school swim coach noticed me swimming laps in the pool one summer, he said that I swam faster and better than most of his varsity swim team members. Even at that age, I found his remarks to be humorous because I has practically taught myself to swim” Carpenter remarked. Carpenter was known for his confident and competitive nature throughout his early school years and that reputation continued throughout his highschool career. Voted most likely to succeed in his senior yearbook, Carpenter was a force to be reckoned with. He was the varsity wrestling team captain, school newspaper editor, the star of the debate team and the class president. “I never wanted to have a reason to look back and regret not trying something” Carpenter reflected, “I wanted to make sure I had gave everything a shot.”

In December 1973, Carpenter enlisted in the army to fight in Vietnam. He had just turned 18 and answered to call for young men to join the fight. “I didn’t particularly agree with the war, but I felt a deep sense of patriotism and I could not ignore it.” Over the next three years, Carpenter excelled through the army ranks starting as a private and leaving Vietnam as Master Sergeant. Carpenter did not wish to elaborate much on his experiences in Vietnam, stating “I never speak about it with anyone except for the men who were there… they are the only ones who understand.”

After the Fall of Saigon, Carpenter was airlifted out of Vietnam with the remaining troops in the spring of 1975. He returned home to Hartford, Connecticut just before his 20th birthday. While home, Daniel met a woman by the name of Nancy Slater while eating breakfast at a local diner. They began dating. “I knew when I met her that she was something special and I had to marry her,” said Carpenter. Unfortunately after only a few months home Carpenter was called to duty. He left for West Berlin in February of 1976 and his plans to marry Nancy Slater were put on hold. Despite the distance between Carpenter and Slater he kept true to her and wrote her almost every day. “I was in love, and it hurt to be away from her but I knew the oath I took and that this sacrifice was for the good of my country.”

Over the next 3 years Carpenter was stationed in West Berlin at the doorstep of the Soviet Union during the height of the Cold War. He once again refused to give details about his time abroad, however his reason this time was different, claiming that details of his service during that time is still to this day classified. “I was stationed in West Berlin for almost 3 years, and it was not pretty, let’s just leave it at that,” said Carpenter with a careful chuckle.

Carpenter returned home in 1978 around Christmas. While in West Germany he had bought an engagement ring for his girlfriend Nancy Slater. Carpenter having risen to the rank of Captain decided to leave the army to get married. He proposed to Nancy on New Years Eve of that year and by May of 1979 they were married. “I was so happy, however my appetite for accomplishment was a problem, I couldn’t sit still.” Around this time Carpenter began working at a local factory which built plumbing parts. “Nancy could see that I was not happy working at a factory, however we had a baby on the way and we were saving for a house.” Over the next several years the Carpenters would have 4 children. Daniel would change jobs three times and eventually become a licenced private investigator. Opening an office in on 42nd Street in Manhattan in 1981. “I loved being a gumshoe… meeting all the interesting people and all the adventures and at that time the city was a much seedier and gritty place.”

When cases were slow Carpenter, an avid chess player would search the city for chess players to fulfill his need for competition. Carpenter became a known chess player in the army. He played all sorts of people and allegedly defeated a famous East German Chess Master while on a diplomatic assignment east of the wall. “I would tell Nancy I was working late and would scour the city for best chess opponents I could find. It sounds crazy but it kept me sharp. I loved playing the bums around the port authority. Those guys sometimes we’re better and smarter than some of the professional players. Some of those fellas were undercover savants.” “I sat on the sidewalk of 43rd and Broadway once for 3 hours playing this one guy by a dumpster, over and over again… and I could not beat him.” “I would sometimes have an epiphany during a match and run back to the office after the game to work on the case.”

In 1986 a client of Carpenter’s was unable to pay in full for his investigator services and offered him two tickets to see CATS. The wildly popular Broadway show had been out since 1981 and was still the highest grossing show in New York. Carpenter accepted the tickets and brought his wife to see the show. “I was immediately enthralled and had to have more, I started taking Nancy to all the Broadway shows… La Cage Aux Folles, 42nd Street, Drood, Sweet Charity… she loved them and so did I. So much so I stopped chasing down chess players and started studying theatre.”

Over the next few years Daniel Carpenter would earn a PH.D. in Drama and become a performing art professor at the local college in Nashua, New Hampshire. It would be here that Carpenter would stay as a professor for many years before retiring in 2014. “My four children have given me 11 grandchildren so I wanted to spend more time with them.”

If you think that in the last 5 Years of retirement that Daniel Carpenter has slowed down, you have another thing coming. Daniel Carpenter has already earned a blackbelt in Kempo, won the county chilli cookoff two years in a row, hosts the annual christmas tree lighting ceremony at his church, directs the community theatre troupe and has taken a stab at philanthropy. Daniel Carpenter started a non-profit foundation that funds theater programs in underprivileged school districts. He has even brought famous retired stage actors to guest teach theater. However Carpenter didn’t stop there, this upcoming year Daniel intends to begin competing as an amateur MMA Fighter in a local circuit. “People often remark about how young I look although I’m in my mid-60s and despite all I do. I tell them it’s a gift and a curse, sometimes I wish I could just sit still and enjoy retirement like most people my age, but I can’t. It drives my wife crazy.”

Now Daniel Carpenter is attempting to enter the rap game, but not for the fame but for his charity work. “I was driving down three-o-five right where I was born in Simsbury and heard this advertisement for a Rap battle in Hartford for a prize of twelve-thousand dollars… and I thought to myself about how that money could be used for good.” Unfortunately for Carpenter he was too late to register for last years tournament however he is hopeful he will win the 2020 competition. “My kids think I’m crazy and I don’t blame them, everyone has thought I was crazy at one point or another.” When asked about how his progress in rap Carpenter declined to elaborate stating “I can’t give you the secret to my sauce before the taste testing,” and carpenter knows a thing or two about taste testing, his busy wall of trophies and awards features his “Annual Chilli Cook-Off — 1st Place” awards for 2014 and 2015. “The way I see it is… this is a mix of everything I know. Music, Drama and Chess.” When asked why chess Carpenter remarked “Chess is pure strategy and rhythm, knowing your opponent and exposing their weaknesses… and knowing the right moment to strike… like martial arts too I suppose… it’s a discipline.”

Carpenter has sure been active in retirement and it seems anything that this 64 year old husband, father, teacher, soldier, detective, chess player and philanthropist puts his mind to he accomplishes. Carpenter shares that the secret to his life of success and accomplishments is having dreams. “Never forget how to have you imagination, never forget that your only limitations are what you let limit you, working hard at something you like… isn’t hard.” Carpenter hopes his wacky and eclectic life story will inspire others to take the first step. commercial interior design california

[soartfullydone]

“Come on, now, love, don’t be naive.” you/Hisoka

Melody Kurta sprang, head over hand back to feet, trying to avoid getting bludgeoned to death by a vacuum cleaner that had a horrifying, gaping mouth for an intake port.

This was not how she thought this day was going to go.

Shizuku Murasaki—number eight of the Phantom Troupe if Hisoka’s word could be believed, which Melody halfway doubted—let out another war cry as she slung the vacuum by its long hose. “Get her, Blinky!”

She named the damn thing Blinky, Melody thought, dodging back. The body of the vacuum went flying past where she’d been standing, colliding with a tree hard enough to split the wood. Melody knew barely anything about Shizuku—there was no record of her anywhere, physical or digital, that detailed her as anything other than a Troupe member—but now she could add freakish strength to the list on top of being a Conjurer.

So far, Greed Island was swiftly becoming less the fantastical virtual reality game experience she was promised and much more like business as usual:

Find a way to help her cousin. Avoid the Spiders. Try not to die.

Well, it looked like she was currently failing orders of business one and two. At least the vacuum’s creepy mouth wouldn’t be able to eat her until she was dead. Melody knew that for a fact, and it did nothing to assuage her.

“What are the Spiders doing here?” Melody asked as Shizuku advanced, dragging the vacuum on its wheels behind her. “Shouldn’t you be busy looking for a new leader?”

“We’ve already got a leader,” Shizuku pointed out in that cool, even way of hers that betrayed no emotion. The woman could be described as soulless if you were feeling less than generous, and right now, Melody certainly was. “If I capture you, we can force the chain user to remove his Nen. Then things can go back to normal that much sooner.”

“Aw, it’s sweet that you think Kurapika would take his Judgment Chain out of Chrollo just for lil’ ol’ me. He’ll let me die first before he sacrifices that,” Melody bluffed, or at least, she hoped she was bluffing. Things between her and her cousin were not… fine, right now.

Shizuku merely blinked, her plum eyes owlish behind her large glasses, and assured Melody matter-of-factly, “Yes, you’re definitely dying either way.”

“Oh, okay, good. So long as that’s clear.”

As Shizuku wound up for another swing of her vacuum, Melody flung herself forward and witnessed a muted sense of surprised flash across Shizuku’s pixie-like features. Netero had once told Melody that one of her greatest assets was being able to get in someone’s space and stay in it, forcing them on the defensive. Of course, being in close range had its own drawbacks.

Particularly if your opponent was faster than you were.

Shizuku blocked every punch Melody threw, no matter where the latter aimed. Melody would find her knuckles grazing off Shizuku’s arm or, worse, the vacuum hose, and wasn’t that humiliating? She didn’t need Gyo to tell her that the Nen accompanying her attacks hadn’t done any damage. Shizuku’s own Nen shield was effortlessly active and intact, neither using too much Nen nor too little as the shield fluctuated to account for the differing strength behind Melody’s attacks.

It was expertly done, a result of both Shizuku’s instinct and experience.

Melody was busy admiring it with a twinge of envy as her own Nen shield was broken and the wind was knocked out of her. The world tilted sharply. She caught a flash of the vacuum’s cartoonish mouth and its razor-sharp teeth as she landed on her hands, dirt scraping her palms. This will not be the last thing I see before I die, she thought wildly as she fought for breath.

In a whip-quick move, Melody balanced herself on her knee and kicked out with her right leg, taking a much-needed lungful of air at the same time. Following the slicing arc of her foot was a bursting line of orange fire.

There was something almost sickly about its color. Something off. It didn’t have the bright flare that fire was supposed to have, appearing more muted, darker. Melody had expected this—it was part of this specific ability—but Shizuku hadn’t.

At the sight, Shizuku’s brows lifted, her dark hair bouncing around her shoulders as she pivoted away, but her vacuum trailed behind. The instant a lick of flame touched it, Shizuku dropped the hose as if it scalded her hands, and the entire thing vanished.

Not vanished as if Shizuku had dismissed it. It wasn’t there and gone in a cloudy poof or a flash of light. Instead, it faded in pieces, as if it was being burned out of the world.

“What did you do?” Shizuku demanded with the first real emotion she’d displayed since running into Melody. Awe and curiosity lifted her tone, but something darker was bolstering the foundations. The promise of retribution if she didn’t get answers; the promise still holding true even if she did.

Melody had no intentions of talking about her abilities with a Spider, but with the fire fading as quickly as it had come and her mid-section feeling like a bus had crashed right into it, she wasn’t in good shape. She could transmute her aura into fire, and that fire could burn through flesh and Nen alike if certain conditions were met. While the former was more permanent and easier to accomplish, the latter was all-too temporary and never a guarantee. Melody couldn’t even perform this specific technique, Burning Touch, without being harmed in some way, such was its nature. Taking the hit from Shizuku had been a sacrifice she’d had to make for her fire to eat through Nen, and right now, she wasn’t sure it was worth it.  

She hadn’t been thinking straight. Too late, she realized she should’ve focused more on attacking the woman instead of her conjuration. Shizuku could do much worse damage to her now that her hands weren’t full, and they both knew it.

Melody staggered to a stand, wincing as she held a hand to her stomach, her entire middle protesting in pain. As Shizuku pressed forward, the golden St. Peter’s cross resting against her black shirt flashed white, the sunlight glinting off its surface. Melody braced for the attack.

It came from behind, two sharp sounds whistling past her on either side. What’s— she thought, her senses rushing to put everything together. Oh, no.

Where the Spider had been standing, a playing card jutted up from where it was embedded in the ground. The other had been caught between Shizuku’s hands, the woman glancing over it with acute disinterest.

Melody remembered, then, what her fourth order of business was supposed to be while on Greed Island.

Find Hisoka.

Instead, he’d found her.

“Yo,” Hisoka’s smooth voice floated to them, saturated with amusement. Melody risked a glance over her shoulder and found him leaning against a tree, saluting them both with a card between two fingers.

Melody decided to play dumb. “Oh, great. What are you doing here?”

“It looked like you both were having such an interesting conversation,” he said, his gaze on her matching the sharpness of his smile. “I was feeling left out.”

Shizuku hummed, tapping her chin with the card. “I’m confused now. Didn’t you agree to help us?”

Melody’s sense of apprehension spiked. She turned the full force of her glare on the magician, willing him to be eviscerated where he stood. You traitorous little bastard. The only reason why the rest of the Troupe wouldn’t attack Hisoka on sight was because of Chrollo, likely because Hisoka claimed to have a way to restore his Nen. She knew this with the same surety as knowing that Ging Freecss was a Class-A asshole.

What made her furious was that it had been Hisoka who had convinced her to come to this damn island to begin with.

Blacklist targets are sure to be there, his text had read. It’s a game for the rich, after all.

Privately, she’d agreed, had already humored finding a way to access the game. Kurapika wanted to locate their clan’s eyes, and she was determined to help him whether he liked it or not. The problem was, Hisoka knew that part of her mind, too, and he’d given her the final push to pursue the option.

What she needed confirmed now was if Hisoka had learned enough about her Nen ability to use her as the solution to his Chrollo problem, because if he had—if her arrival on Greed Island and this ambush was planned—then she was about to find herself in some deep shit.  

Hisoka pushed himself off from the tree and approached their standstill. “I do recall that,” he answered Shizuku, his eyes glittering with the mirth of some joke only he was privy to. His Nen wasn’t hostile, but that could change in an instant. At his side, he still held a card between his long fingers with the same deterring intent as a knife.

Or maybe, in his case, it was more of an invitation.

“Then, help me capture her. You wanted to fight the boss,” Shizuku replied, pointing at Melody with the corner of the card. “She’s your quickest way.”

As soon as Hisoka arrived at Melody’s side, he stopped. Melody had all but stopped paying attention to Shizuku at this point; she wasn’t the biggest threat anymore.

Not when Hisoka was standing this alarmingly, possessively, close.

Everything screamed at her to shift away with how he was considering her, as if she was primed for the sacrifice, a tool he could just reach out and take with no resistance. But Melody would resist, even though every scenario flashing through her head led to the same end result. If he used Bungee Gum against her, she could burn the Nen away—but unless he harmed her in the process, she’d have to hurt herself for the trade. He was already faster and stronger than she was, and the more damage she suffered, the wider the gap between them would grow. She was caught in a lose-lose scenario no matter how she looked at it.

What Melody didn’t know was that Hisoka had watched the skirmish between her and Shizuku unfold long before he’d chosen to interfere. Shizuku’s ability was one he was familiar with and uninterested in; nothing about it intrigued him, despite its rarity.

Though Shizuku was a decent fighter, he’d only had eyes for his latest unripe fruit. Melody Kurta had proven Hisoka’s suspicions (and desires) about her potential true in Yorknew City. Like her cousin Kurapika, her ability was deliciously destructive. Unlike her cousin, she was still discovering its capabilities and limits. But like Hisoka—he’d noted at the time in Yorknew City with no little satisfaction—she was a Transmuter through and through, down to the fact that she had lied to his face about the scope of her ability.

He’d had no idea her Nen could dispel that of others.

Hisoka found himself then with a decision to make. He could either save her and continue grooming her into someone worthy enough to kill, or he could snuff out all that fire and determination now by handing her over to the Spiders, bringing his little tryst with Chrollo that much closer.

Even now, facing both choices head on, he was still mulling over what to do. If he captured her, it would be fun watching her and Kurapika fall apart over it. He wondered which Kurta would break faster if Feitan tortured her. Either way, Hisoka would ensure Kurapika’s hatred—and that of the other fruits by association—and the thought was intoxicating.

On the other hand, if he didn’t listen to Shizuku and chose to do nothing, he didn’t foresee himself losing anything. In fact, now that he thought about it, giving his little hunter up might be the worse decision, especially if something went wrong or Kurapika proved difficult during negotiations. Meanwhile, somewhere on this island, there was a very real Nen exorcist who would likely do as Hisoka asked without fuss.  

What to do?

Hisoka crooked a finger at Shizuku. “Try to summon Blinky again. I want to see something.” Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Melody tense.

“What?” Shizuku said. “Oh.” She flicked Hisoka’s card aside and cradled her hands in midair. Blinky appeared between them with a pop, looking its usual if disarming self. “Oh,” the Spider said again, “I thought it was gone.”

While Shizuku inspected the vacuum cleaner from top to bottom, Hisoka wrapped a possessive hand around the nape of Melody’s neck. She went rigid as a board under his touch, causing his smile to widen and encouraging him to lean closer.  

“That’s quite a detail you left out,” he spoke into her ear, indicating her ability. “It’s getting me excited.”

“Nice to know we haven’t skipped the foreplay,” she said dryly, though her body betrayed her anxiousness.

“It’s not true exorcism, then,” he noted. “How long does it last?”

“A few seconds,” she admitted, “long enough for a possible killing blow. I intend to lengthen that window.”

Hisoka assessed her with half-lidded eyes. There was still something she wasn’t telling him. He felt something inside him begin to stir restlessly, an itch that demanded to get scratched until it bled, and then he’d make it bleed some more. Not yet.

To distract himself, the magician decided to focus on what she had told him. “So if you’d taken the chain out of Chrollo…”

“It would come back like that,” Melody affirmed, snapping her fingers, “possibly killing him instantly for violating Kurapika’s order.”

Meaning Hisoka would lose any chance of fighting Chrollo and killing him himself. That was not a desirable outcome, meaning his choice was now clear.

The little Kurta’s smirk said she knew it, too.

It was almost endearing that she believed being left alone with him was the better option.  

“Run along, Shizuku,” Hisoka said, straightening. He began massaging the back of Melody’s neck with a hard pressure, nails pricking her scalp. “You’ve played with my toy enough. Be glad you didn’t break her, or I wouldn’t be letting you walk away like this.”

Shizuku dismissed Blinky. “I can’t do anything about your Bungee Gum, anyway, so I guess it’s fine. I’ve forgotten what I even came out here for.” She sighed and propped her hands on her hips. “Don’t forget. As soon as this business with the boss is over, we’re coming for your head.”

“How could I?” Hisoka said sweetly. “Take care.”  

Melody watched as Shizuku departed through the trees. Only when the woman was out of sight did she feel at ease enough to move.

Hisoka didn’t let her.  

“Come now, love, don’t be naïve,” he purred. His hand was wrapped in her hair now, forcing her head back and steering her until the only thing separating them was Melody’s hands braced against his chest. Their gazes locked. “Shouldn’t I at least get a thank you for saving you?”

“Saving your toy, you mean?” Melody snarled. She tried to push him away, but she might as well have been trying to shove a mountain out of her path. Nen could truly make too much of a difference. “You didn’t save me. Know what else you didn’t do? Answer my fucking texts.”

“Oh, how cute. Does it bother you that much?”

“It does when you’re the one who’s been harassing me with them for months!” God above, he was infuriating! Melody fought to calm down. “Blacklist hunters, my ass. You wanted me to help you track down this Nen purger of yours, didn’t you?”

“It’s the least you could do.”

“Forget it.” She’d come here to help Kurapika, not undo everything he’d risked and accomplished in Yorknew.

“This kind of thing plays out differently in AiAi.”

Melody didn’t know what to make of that offhand comment or what fresh hellscape AiAi was in Hisoka’s world. He didn’t give her much chance to puzzle it out.

Hisoka released her hair only to capture her chin, his thumb sweeping across her lower lip. His voice was husky, the words thick with eagerness. “You need to stop doing that, though. Those defiant eyes… You’re making me want to ruin you.”

The hair on the back of Melody’s neck stood straight up, her heart pounding like an incessant drum throughout her body. Each pulse made her aware of every ache from where Shizuku had punched her, but drowning that out was the hyper-realization of Hisoka. Where her body touched his, all legs, hips, hands, and chest. How much space was left before they reached total impact. The glint of his golden eyes, bright with hunger.

Something shifted in his gaze. It was the only warning she had before Hisoka pulled away and stepped around her, actually giving her space. Melody could only stare after him, stunned. She tried to take stock of time. There’s no way they’d kissed and she’d just blacked out and missed it, right?

Hisoka’s nowhere near that nice. He’d make sure I’d remember.

His back was to her, and she couldn’t gauge his mood or expression. The hand he’d touched her with seemed to rise to his face. His shoulders started to shake. He was laughing.

“Hisoka?”

Melody’s spine straightened as he turned, eyes flashing to hers, a terrible idea taking shape in their depths. His smirk was wide and feline.

“Show me how you dispel Nen,” Hisoka demanded, “and I’ll call us even, for now.”

Before Melody could respond, she was yanked forward by the chin, as if from some invisible hook.

No, she thought with mounting dread.

A quick usage of Gyo was all it took to confirm it. Hisoka had stuck goddamn Bungee Gum to her chin, the end stuck to his own, and he was reeling in his aura, dragging her closer with every second. Her shoes slid against dirt and grass, unable to find purchase.

“You goddamn wretch! I swear I’m going to kill you!”

Hisoka’s eyes danced, smoldering with heat. “Let’s hope it’s with tongue.”

The distance between them was growing rapidly. Her eyes and mind flew, trying to figure out what she could use to hurt herself badly enough to burn through Hisoka’s Nen. Punching herself in the leg wasn’t going to cut it.

Wait—cut! Cut!

Her gaze darted down and she found it. Hisoka had been toying with her with his right hand this entire time, but his left still held that knife-sharp card of his. He’d never discarded it. A good magician always has more tricks up his sleeve.

Melody surged toward it, the taut line of aura between her and Hisoka going slack, just for a moment. It was with an icy sort of shock that Melody found she’d misjudged the distance—or maybe Hisoka had taken advantage of her momentum—because a second later, her body was pressed against every hard inch of his—no space left—and Hisoka’s mouth was on hers, hot and demanding and punishing. His heat suffused into her with each brutal scrape of his teeth and every masterful stroke of his tongue. She’d threatened to kill him, but he was the one who was attempting to devour her whole.

She wasn’t prepared at all for him to moan into her mouth, the sound guttural, needy, and desperate. Like he couldn’t decide if he wanted her to destroy him or be the one to undo her, piece by piece. Probably both.

If every cell in her body hadn’t been awake before this, they certainly were now, and with that sudden feeling came a rush of cruel clarity, swiftly followed by a biting burn against her skin.

Melody wrenched herself out of the kiss, annoyed to find stepping back would be a wasted effort. Not just because Hisoka’s hand held her in place by the neck, but also because one of her own was fisted tightly in his shirt.

Her other hand was stinging with pain by the card impaled on its palm, bright red blood seeping down its papery edges.

Hisoka realized what she’d done a beat after she did. She watched grimly as he put it together. The card. The blood. Her pulling away. No burns on his mouth but his Nen being gone.

“You have to absorb pain.” His voice dragging with awe was chilling. His dark laughter was worse. “Dear little Kurta, you might have been made for me.”

He claimed her mouth again, and Melody didn’t stop him, didn’t want to stop him. She’d been avoiding Hisoka getting too close beyond the expected innuendo and the occasional touch, but now that the line had been crossed, slashed, and burned, she found her resistance to be negligible. Nonexistent. She wanted this; she wanted him. She wanted whatever they could and would do to each other, even though there was that still small voice deep down screaming at her to run.

“Mmm, you’re so good, Melody, love,” Hisoka was praising against her lips, pulling the card out of her hand. With a practiced swipe of his tongue, he licked a trail of her blood off the edge of the card, and that sight should have alarmed or disgusted her. She felt none of those things. (What was wrong with her? Why was nothing ever right with her?) All she felt was hot and reckless, her body coming alive as Hisoka moaned in tortured pleasure. “You’re going to be so good.”

[icameheretowinry]

ling!!

HOW I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO TALK ABOUT THIS GOOF. BRING. IT. ON.

How I feel about this character:

First of all, I love him. Second of all, I love him. Third of all— *ahem* How does this story have so many great characters??? Ling is one of my absolute favorites because of (surprise, surprise) his complexity. Also, remember that comment I made in my Kimblee post about Arakawa graying the chasm between good and evil? Boy oh boy that ever come into play with Ling’s character development. Buckle up, kids, we’re about to break. this. down.

The first thing I love about Ling is just how much of a goof he is. In the first few minutes he’s on screen in episode 15, he already got several laughs out of me. He comes across as a lighthearted boy with a wacky sense of humor, a voracious appetite, and a penchant for getting himself in trouble. Funny enough, he reminds me a lot of my younger brother at that age. His presence was a refreshing contrast to the Elric brothers as well. While Ed and Al certainly have many funny moments, they tend to take things rather seriously. His interactions with Ed are comedic gold. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s the first time Ed’s had to go toe to toe with a boy his age or just Ling’s contrasting personality, but either way, it works incredibly well. 

On the flip side, Ling really surprised me with his battle sense when facing Wrath and Gluttony. He’s observant and collected, easily figuring out how to use Gluttony’s own regeneration abilities against him. His ambitiousness and determination were incredible to watch, and really made me rethink just how I viewed him as a character. I never expected Arakawa to simply leave him purely as comic relief, but making him an actual badass? Heck Y E S. Plus, you have to consider that he faced off against two freakishly powerful immortal beings without the help of alchemy. 

It’s also impossible not to appreciate Ling’s intense sense of duty and respect for loyalty. While likely instilled in him due to his princely upbringing, these aspects of his character are also largely entwined with his emotions. That combination becomes uniquely powerful when someone he respects/cares for is in danger, or when he’s given an opportunity to further his goal of obtaining immortality. And as a quick side note, that quest itself never appears to be selfish when tied to Ling’s character. He says he’s doing it for the benefit of his people, and honestly, it’s really easy to believe he has the best intentions. 

However, his self-sacrifice and ambition, as we all know, pushes him to the limit of even giving up control of his own body to Greed in order to obtain immortality. While this could be seen as those traits taken to a fault, it’s actually a springboard not only for Greed’s character development, but also Ling’s own. But don’t worry, I’ll be getting into that a bit later! 

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

As one of the four cardinal fma ships, I’m here to talk about Lingfan. While there isn’t a lot of screen time of these two spending time together like Ed and Winry, it’s impossible to ignore the intense emotional connection between them whenever they do interact. It’s beyond obvious that these two respect each other. While Lan Fan protects Ling with her life as his body guard, he reciprocates on an equal level, possibly when he is isn’t technically obligated to. He saves her from Wrath. She cuts off her own damn arm to ensure their escape. (Nothing will ever be as raw as that moment feel free to fight me on that one.) Ling admits weakness in comparison to her willingness to sacrifice herself for their mission. Lan Fan goes through automail installation and rehabilitation in six goddamn months (get rekt Ed) in order to support him. While this intense respect and loyalty don’t necessarily lead to romance, I will argue that the foundation is there. Just take a look at these two gifs and try to deny the emotional connection between them. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

You know, I was going to put Ed into this category because, well… FIST BUMPS

But the more I thought about it, the more I decided Greed would fit this category that much better. While Greed and Ling don’t really get along at first, Ling’s influence on Greed’s character development is such a treat to watch. For the first time, Greed has to contend with a soul powerful enough to stand up to his possession. Unlike Wrath, who’s forgotten much of the man he was before he became a homunculus, Ling is very present within Greed, and has the distinct ability to facilitate change within someone, who could’ve so easily continued being a “villain,” from the inside out. With Ling’s influence, Greed recognizes his desire for friendship, a sense of duty greater than himself, and how to properly grieve for those he’s lost. 

Greed is one of my top favorite characters due to this development, and it’s all thanks to the humanity Ling brings out in him. The trope that the immortal being who supposedly knows all about humanity and how the world is, only to be taught and humbled by a human works so damn well between the two of them. And this relationship goes both ways. While Ling initially used Greed for his immortality, you can’t tell me that they didn’t highly respect each other, and weren’t friends, by the time they parted ways. Seriously, take one look at the scene of Fu’s death. Greed lets Ling take control when he realizes that Fu’s in trouble. Greed covers Ling’s arms in the ultimate shield when Fu tells him to protect him, yet still leaving Ling in control. They BOTH yell to Fu to stop his last ditch effort to take down Bradley. Greed even tells Lan Fan to let them fall to take care of Fu; seeing her bleeding at the strain on her automail. And he knows it. In short, Greed not only concerns himself, but becomes in entwined with Ling’s quest and those he cares about the most. Their friendship ENDS ME. 

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Dang… I just want more of the internal interactions between Ling and Greed. They’re excellent when they happen in Brotherhood. I just. want. more. Hell, it could make for some great filler I wouldn’t mind watching in the least!! There’s really nothing bad I can say about him???? 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

GREED, LING AND CO JUST NEED TO ALL GO LIVE HAPPILY IN XING OK IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK

[asktheneverfairies]

What do you think is between Tink and Terence that draws them together?

This is a good question! I think there are a lot of factors that draw them together, as in any good relationship. I’ll try to find the words to really describe it.

Affinity: a spontaneous or natural liking or sympathy for someone or something.

Tink and Terence have had this with one another from the start.After Tink arrived and messed up the spring preparations, Terence found her at the Pixie Dust Tree and had a heart-to-heart in their first conversation together. He offered her support and sympathy at the right time and in the right way. She revealed that she already knows his name because she considers him important in the kingdom, and his reaction suggests that he nudged her towards the revelation that her own talent is equally important.

There’s something magnetic about their interaction because they know intuitively how to interact with one another. They like each other, they sympathize with each other, they respect each other.

Respect: a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements.

Fondness: affection or liking for someone or something.

Trust: firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.

Both Tink and Terence have been shown to regard the other’s talent as the best or most important in Pixie Hollow–favorite next only to their own. Further, they each think each other is the best of their respective talent. “The best dust-keeper fairy” “and the best tinker” is only the surface of their compliments for one another throughout the series.

Terence thinks Tink can do anything, and he admires her fierceness of determination and happiness. Also her bounce when she lands, her hair, her scowl, her courage, her honesty, etc.

Tink thinks Terence is sweet, would do anything for a friend, is very talented, and has a nice sparkly smile. She thinks he’s a genius as exclaimed in Lost Treasure. She also loves his poetry.

Rapport: a close and harmonious relationship in which the people or groups concerned understand each other’s feelings or ideas and communicate well.

Familiarity: relaxed friendliness or intimacy between people.

This is the result of their natural affinity strengthened by the length of their friendship. The longer they know each other, the more they understand and work well together. As stated in the novelization of Lost Treasure, “They had made tea together so many times, they had it down to a dance and a science. … savoring not just the tea, but also their friendship and ability to work in harmony.”

And later, “They politely and eagerly exchanged and accepted advice from each other. It wasn’t long before they were finishing each other’s sentences and anticipating each other’s next move–just like in the old days.” When their relationship goes through a trial such as in LT, they are inspired to repair their mistakes and come through stronger on the other side by healthy communication and understanding.

It’s shown through their interaction (in the film, face character interaction, PHO script notes) that Terence sometimes behaves as a conscience-like mentor for Tink, reminding her of things such as the “stinkbug incident” and trying to guide her through her fits of anger. (When she drives the boat up a tree and he remarks that she’s taking it better than usual, then notices she’s still upset and cheers her up by joking around until she smiles and laughs)

In Great Fairy Rescue, Terence notices Tink’s disappoint over all her inventions working perfectly and the fact that there’s nothing for her to do, and reassures her that she’ll find something to fix. Which she does, by the end of the events of the film, and as he returns to sit with her they enjoy the peaceful moment.

In the books, Terence doesn’t listen to gossip about Tink’s talent and retains faith in her. He doesn’t need to hear explanations before offering to help her out, and he knows before she says it that they should keep their visit to Peter between themselves. He knows what she is going through without needing all the details and supports her anyway.

Similarly, when they have a bump in their relationship (usually through Tink getting frustrated about something and telling him to leave her alone) they don’t need apologies before each coming to the conclusion on their own that they forgive the other. In one comic they don’t even talk about it, because sometimes with friends words are unnecessary.

Their sense of humor tends to align as they’re shown several times to make each other laugh and generally being best friends. They find genuine joy in each other’s presence.

Dedication:self-sacrificing devotion and loyalty.

Devotion: love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person, activity, or cause.

Love: an intense feeling of deep affection.

The amount of times they (Terence especially) behave loyally to the point of self-sacrifice for one another is innumerable. Consider the climax and falling action of Lost Treasure, when Terence breaks the rules to borrow extra dust and fly all day and night over the sea to find Tink on the island north of Never Land, and then run and fight and outwit a bunch of rats together.

Then, the books are full of even more situations in which Terence’s life is in danger and he thinks only of Tink’s safety. When he’s almost swallowed by a river of mud, when he has a feeling she’s in danger and flies across the sea until he collapses and almost drowns, when his ribs are broken and he wakes up from a faint, when a fairy-eating dragon is loose and fairies are being chosen to go on the quest to face it…

In Tink, North of Never Land, she travels across the island getting into perilous situations just for the possibility of attaining a rare gift for Terence to apologize for snapping at him earlier (he then organizes a search party when she’s missing.)

In another book after she snaps at him, he still brings her pumpkin muffins and a drink and leaves it for her, a small but caring gesture.

It is said outright that Terence loves Tinker Bell, and while the same is not put in such explicit words on Tink’s side, it is implied in the last of Levine’s books. In the second one, when Tink has romantic feelings feelings for Terence, she laments that she will miss him when they’re gone, but won’t know it. In the last book they’re separated for a few hours and it’s revealed that she admitted to missing him–it’s to be inferred that she openly loves him now by their close proximity and her blushing.

So that’s my understanding of what basically pulls them together, the attraction between them that is based on an affinity and built upon by respect, familiarity and dedication. The foundation of true friendship and love!

[araneaes-order]

Replaying Neverwinter Nights (Part 1) and rediscovering Hordes of the Underdark...

...fanfic

A disillusioned hero departs from a city determined to repeat its mistakes and parts with a love she’d thought she’d found a home with. (Yeah, this is very much leading to hooking up with Valen, but dammit, I really liked Aarin too, gotta at least acknowledge him! I bet he would have been fun to actually take on adventures...)

Rough, didn’t fact check, unbetaed, I shouldn’t be writing it, I should be focused on camp nano and my original fic but... Valen! And Aarin!

Heh...and dardrea was a name I used in games before it was my screen name anywhere so when I got NWN again the first name that I thought to use was... ah *embarrassed but can’t be bothered to change the PC’s name* She was a level 10 shifter/7 druid at this point in the campaigns. ;) 

Dar ran her hands through her hair. “I can’t believe he’s doing this. How can he do this?”

Aarin knew better than to encroach when she was pacing, and stood with his arms crossed, safe in the doorway of their chamber.

If she’d thought him more of a coward she might have suspected he was poised to flee, but even as angry as she was she knew that was unkind. He was just giving her space.

She needed space. Gods, she needed so much more space than any street or alley of this city could offer her. Nyatar and his tree, hemmed all around with quarried stone and concrete, were a poor excuse for a grove, Chauntea bless them both for trying.

The city was a graveyard. The dead had been cleared from the streets, mostly, but they were still finding bodies, all ages, all stages of decay, fallen in the first flush of the plague and in the last days of the siege, crawled off to die, or to hide, and found their safety become a tomb.

She could have put up with that. She was a druid, death was what it was, and sometimes it was a cruel, cleansing fire that prepared the land for new growth. Neverwinter would live again. Or some other city would rise from its foundations, nature abhorred waste and this land was too well situated to be abandoned, no matter the horrors that had recently faced it.

But this?

She whirled on Aarin, his expression was mild but his eyes were sympathetic, and maybe even reflected some pain of his own, but she was too shaken by his stoicism to give any sympathy in return.

“I am sorry, my love,” he said and she knew he meant it.

But she also knew it didn’t matter.

“What about his regrets? What about when he stood beside me wondering if he hadn’t called all this down on his city himself when he let this happen to Fenthick? He told me he hoped he would act differently if he had another chance. He told me he wished he had another chance!”

She paced back to him, flailing her arms in her agitation but with his impeccable sense of timing he reached out for her then, pulling her gently to his chest, and her arms circled him as they often had in the recent months.

She clung without shame. He smelled of the docks—in a good way. Of the salty sea and damp sand and waxed wood. She wasn’t called to the waters the way she was called to the forests but she could still recognize another of her goddess’ faces. There was more to the wild, natural ways than trees.

She hid her face against the open vee of his shirt, as though the salt of her tears were drawn by the salt of his skin and his scent, like to like.

“For what it’s worth, I think he still wishes that,” he murmured into her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple when she shuddered.

“He had his chance. Aribeth stood before him, repentant, defeated, but delivered of her own accord and he—damn it, Aarin, how could he?”

“The people need—”

She shoved away from him, glaring now, but not hiding her tears though it made the large shadow of him waver in front of her eyes. “To forgive. The people need to learn to forgive or death and destruction will always be their lot here. Vengeance piled on vengeance, death on death, graveyard atop graveyard until the dirt beneath their feet is nothing but the bone dust of their bloody history. Better I had let Morag and her people rise.”

She could hear the frown in his voice. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?” She backed away, crossing her arms in a poor mimic of his usual stance, but it didn’t mean the same thing. So what if he was right, if only about that. “Where do you stand? She was your friend too, wasn’t she? You said you sympathized with her reasons, if not what she did. Just because you wouldn’t make that choice doesn’t mean you can’t understand it. Will you just let this happen?”

“What else can I do? I serve Neverwinter, just as Nasher does.”

She scoffed. “Then serve Neverwinter. Do what’s right for the soul of the city, not the petty, fleeting wants of a petty people.” She couldn’t look at him as she said it, because she already knew what his answer would be. She’d fallen in love with him because of his sense of duty. Because she’d seen him as a man who could walk the shadows in service of the light, and who wouldn’t be tempted by either from what he knew in his heart to be just.

To him, what was just was what his people and his lord needed, but she couldn’t agree in this.

For a moment neither spoke. She’d never cared for anyone the way she cared for him. She hadn’t known she could feel this way until she’d met him.

He’d loved before. And killed his love, because she’d sought to undermine Lord Nasher and the law of Neverwinter, and refused to give up her plans, even for him, even for pardon, even for escape.

A man who wouldn’t be tempted.

She knew what his answer would be, but she had to say the words and hear him say them back. “Come with me.”

“My love—”

Damn pride anyway. She reached for him, catching one of his hands and pressing it to her lips. “Come with me. This city is poisoned by its own misdeeds, doomed to repeat its own mistakes. Don’t stay and be the next sacrifice. Come with me.”

“Where would we go?” He’d stepped towards her, his words soft. She knew he was only humoring her, maybe even humoring himself, but she couldn’t stop.

“Anywhere! People like us? There’s nowhere we couldn’t go. No wild place, no city, what door would be barred against us?”

He pulled his hand, and hers with it, and pressed a kiss to her knuckle in return. “I can’t, my love. Neverwinter needs me. It needs us.”

“Not me. It doesn’t need me. There’s nothing I can do or say that can heal what’s still broken here.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’ll have my proof of it at dawn.”

He flinched. “Stay,” he whispered, as pointless as her plea for him to come.

“I can’t,” she said.

The air was crisp. The sky slowly brightening as the first light crept higher and darkness fled. It was what had drawn her to the service of nature, this permanence in an impermanent world. That promise of another day dawning, even if there was no one and nothing left to sit and enjoy it.

This was not an enjoyable dawn.

She suspected the time had been set in a small nod to mercy. Nasher couldn’t let Aribeth die with the dignity of true privacy, the people needed to see it done, or there was no point, after all, but at dawn there was perhaps less chance of too much of a crowd.

He’d underestimated his people’s blood lust if that had been his thinking though. And Dar couldn’t deny they had a reason to be angry. But to be so blind to their own mistakes that they couldn’t see their own hands in driving the paladin’s fall and betrayal—she sighed. It was part of the anger too, though, she was almost sure. Aribeth was a reminder of their faults, more even since she’d turned herself over to them, facing her misdeeds as they couldn’t. She had to die; she’d shamed them twice over.

Dar wasn’t surprised when Aarin sat beside her, though she hadn’t chosen an easy seat, atop the roof of the Red Mage’s tower, overlooking the makeshift gallows and the restive crowd that had gathered around it.

He touched her back lightly, as though afraid she’d pull away—and potentially tumble herself right off in a cloud of shingles—but she turned to him instantly, letting him hold her, and his breath was almost a sigh of relief.

But then the guards arrived, and Aribeth. Paladin and blackgaurd, champion and betrayer. Chosen of the god of justice, she’d worked to save this city and then she’d helped to bring it to its knees. Anyone who’d survived the siege had only done so because of luck, not because Tyr’s champion hadn’t done all she could to crush them completely.

She’d been stripped of her holy armor, wearing little more than linen rags, not suitable for a shroud in her former life. Anger still mixed with shame on her face, Dar could see it from the top of the tower, or imagined she could. The half-elf kept her head high, even when they looped the noose over it.

Nasher was there, still at this age a monolith, the pillar of his people’s strength, the bearer of their weaknesses.

He gave the nod, as he had when it had been Fenthick, Aribeth’s beloved, who’d worn the noose and carried this city’s sins into the next world.

Dar held her breath, staring unblinking until she was sure it was over. Part of it was perhaps to see the moment that would have to come if human justice was true, when Tyr, the maimed god, Aribeth’s god, the god of justice, would appear to save his chosen from this ignoble death. What was justice if it couldn’t be tempered with mercy? Better to live as a beast with no concept of it, just living until your days were spent.

She wiped her wrist across her eyes and said a prayer. Chauntea didn’t care for human justice. Her children were innocent and innocent they would all return to her in time; Dar could only pray Aribeth’s troubled soul would found her way to a kinder god than her own had been.

For herself, there would be no more dawns in Neverwinter.

She let Aarin hold her as the sun climbed higher and the crowd below dispersed, their blood lust satisfied for the moment, if their guilty souls couldn’t possibly be.

When she finally looked at him she could see that he’d been crying too, and she was glad they’d shared this moment, as terrible as it had been.

Her fingers trembled when she unfastened his necklace from around her neck and tried to hand it to him.

He frowned at it, his eyes already clearing. “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving,” she said, only slightly confused. She’d thought it had been clear the night before.

“I know that, what are you doing with the necklace?”

She huffed in annoyance. “I’m giving it back. It’s yours. You should keep it for the woman who—the one who stays with you.” She had to look away but she gripped the pendant and chain in her hand and clutched it in her lap.

“When I gave it to you I meant for you to keep it. It didn’t come with strings.”

“I know that. I didn’t think it did, but it’s your mother’s necklace—”

“No, it’s yours. Unless you value it so little.”

How could he sound hurt at this? She was trying to do the right thing by him. “You’re a good man, Aarin. You’ll find a woman who fits into your life better than I do. You should take it back, for her.”

He touched her hand but she still wouldn’t look at him. She didn’t offer the necklace again though. “Perhaps, perhaps not. Either way, you’re the one I gave it to. Keep it. Let it remind you of me. Let it remind you that, I hope, everything that happened here wasn’t as bad as…this.”

She didn’t have to look to know he was gesturing towards the gallows, not the way his voice had thickened.

He turned her hand over and her breath caught for a moment when he took the necklace, but he fastened it around her neck, the way he had when he’d first given it to her, at Beorunna��s Well, while they’d been fighting to save his beloved city.

He gently turned her to face him, and he looked so sad she wished she could tell him she’d stay with him in Neverwinter. There were so many more things she wanted to say, promises she wouldn’t be able to keep, the words of love that none of this had changed, but he kissed her, softly, and she knew their goodbye had been said.

She stood up, because she couldn’t stay, weaving for one moment in the wind, a deadly distance from the ground below. She could fall, but he wouldn’t have let her and she didn’t.

Vanity wouldn’t see her leave him with the parting image of a harpy or a gargoyle. She shifted into a blue wyrmling instead, its little wings would serve as well. There was a grace in dragons that appealed to her, now, on this graceless day.

Then she threw herself from the tower, and let the wind carry her tears.

Yeah and literally the next part is Valen, Shadows of Undrentide happened but I skip all that in narrative. Also the next part will probably never see daylight because I wouldn’t want to post until I finished the whole bit (as in the whole recap of Hordes of the Underdark, at least the parts I think are pertinent to the romance between Valen and the PC) and I should 100% not be working on fanfic right now anyway, so...there you go. 

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