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peterxwade24 · 3 years

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Friends can be Family

For Maribat March 2021, day 19 Prompt Guardian.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng has barely been the Guardian of the Miraculous for a year when she senses a disturbance at Master Fu's old parlor. She didn't realize that going to check on the parlor would lead to her becoming a mother, that going to the parlor would lead to her finding her closest friends.

Let me know if you want to see more of this fic/AU. I had fun writing this and I kind of want to expand on the idea (like so many other things I've written for Maribat March).

Anyways, enjoy~

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had always known that she was destined for greatness. That she was destined for more than just being a baker like her parents, and her destiny started one day shortly before she graduated from Lycée.

---

Marinette was minding her own business just trying to finish her homework when she felt a jolt go through her. She glanced behind her, her eyes looking for the source of the jolt, and when she found nothing she just went back to her homework. She had several things to finish before she could leave the school but she felt compelled to simply finish the sheet she was working on and pack up to leave. So, that’s what she did. She hurried through what was left on her math worksheet before packing up to leave. She slung her bag over her shoulder after she was sure she had everything secured, picked up her purse where Tikki was still sleeping, and walked out of the library.

Marinette was on her way home when she felt drawn towards Master Fu’s massage parlor so she corrected her course to take her to her former master’s parlor. She would usually avoid going to the parlor since the building itself was filled with nothing but painful memories of happier times, but she knew that something in the parlor was calling to her so she picked up her pace and was practically running.

The moment Marinette stepped into the parlor, there was the tip of a sai at her throat. Her eyes went wide as she took in the situation.

The woman holding the sai was beautiful but looked world-weary as though she had always been looking over her shoulder. She had long black hair and beautiful green eyes but her face was twisted in pain as she let out a groan. The hand not holding the sai to her throat was cradling her abdomen.

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked, her eyes scanning the woman for what could be causing her pain.

“Who are you? How did you find this place?” The woman demanded through gritted teeth.

“I’m Marinette, this was my Master’s parlor. I can help you, with the delivery I mean.” Marinette placed a hand on the woman’s arm and hurried to wrap her arm under the woman’s arms to catch her when a wave of pain knocked her legs out from under her.

---

The woman, who gave only the name “Jade” in response when Marinette asked what to call her, lay atop a futon with several blankets around her. Her brow was covered in sweat but laying against her chest was a healthy baby girl.

“What’ll you name her?” Marinette asked as she collected her tools. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Lian Harper. Lian Marie Harper.” Jade looked at her baby before looking up at Marinette.

Marinette nodded and began to write down the information she’d need to register the birth certificate. “I’m going to need your name, and her father’s, so I can register her as a legal person.”

Jade’s eyes darkened momentarily before pressing a kiss to the top of Lian’s head. “Jade Chaumont. Her father’s name is Roy, Roy Harper.”

Marinette nodded. “I’ll fill out all of the paperwork with the government and then we’ll figure out logistics.”

---

Marinette stared at Jade in shock. “So, you’re telling me that you have innate magic that resonates at a similar frequency to the Miraculous. And when you discovered you were pregnant you spent months searching for the Guardian of the Miraculous. But when you were unable to find them you decided your best case of action was to find the place with the most concentrated energy from the Box of Miracles and you found the massage parlor. Did I miss anything?”

“Just that I was searching for the Guardian so that my child and I would be safe from our enemies.” Jade turned back to Lian and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll take care of her for me, won’t you?”

“Of course. I would rather throw myself on top of a blade than let Lian be hurt. You will always be welcomed back into her life.” Marinette smiled sadly at Jade, Jade had become one of her closest friends in the time Jade had been in Paris. However, the two friends knew that Jade would have to go back to the League of Shadows at some point, or they would track her down and kill whomever she was with.

“Thank you for this.” Jade quickly wrapped Marinette and Lian up in a hug before pulling back and collecting her bag. “This isn’t the last you’ll see of me.”

---

Marinette moved Lian into her apartment after Jade left Paris, but she always made sure that Lian knew about Jade. They would scarcely see Jade, for their own safety of course, but it was starting to weigh on the pair of friends. However, it would be just after Lian turned three that Jade would pop back into their lives for more than just a handful of stolen moments.

Jade would crash in the massage parlor the first night and when Marinette went to check the next day she would take Jade back to her apartment. Marinette would protect her friend from the League of Shadows, and help her deliver a healthy, beautiful, baby boy.

“Do they have the same father?” Marinette would ask while writing down the information she needed to register the boy.

“No. His father is Thomas Blake, and he’ll be Thomas Blake Jr.” Jade kissed her baby’s forehead. “You’ll take care of him for me when I have to leave, right?”

“Of course.” Marinette pressed a kiss to Jade’s forehead and knew she would help her friend however she needed to.

---

Jade’s visits became more sporadic after the birth of Tommy, but Jade left the phone number of Lian’s father with Marinette for just in case of emergencies.

Marinette woke up one day and just felt off. She whispered with Fluff about precautions she should take. So, just before the force of the aura of the Lazarus Pits crashed over her, she asked Fluff to open the Burrow and stashed her children within its safety because she knew Fluff would be able to keep them safe.

“Tikki, spots on.” Marinette uttered barely above a whisper. She blinked and suddenly she was Ladybug, heroine of Paris.

Her suit had changed since her debut, and it had changed drastically. The base of it was a dark red kimono with a long red haori over it covered in black polka dots with visible black armor covering her chest, waist and shoulders. The lower half of her face was covered by a face veil while her eyes were simply obscured by black face paint.

Ladybug scoured the area, looking for the threat, before letting out a puff of air. She had barely gotten the first syllable of “Tikki” out when she was suddenly blinded.

Lady Shiva stood over her as she laid on the ground in pain. Lady Shiva scoffed before kicking Ladybug in the gut. “Pathetic.”

Lady Shiva turned and left the apartment, but Ladybug didn’t drop her transformation until she stopped feeling her aura.

“Tikki, spots off,” Marinette cried and felt her friend sink down into her outstretched hands. “Tikki, I’m so sorry.”

---

Marinette packed up their stuff, knowing that her apartment was no longer safe for her and her kids. She was waiting for Roy to pick up as she balanced her phone between her ear and her shoulder.

“Who is this and how did you get this number?” A man who Marinette assumed was Roy growled as soon as the call connected.

“I’m sorry, I’m looking for Roy Harper?”

“Why’re you looking for my boyfriend?” The same man continued to growl before Marinette heard a second man’s voice come from the background.

“Jason? Who’re you talking to?” The other man’s voice was thick with sleep and Marinette could only hope the other man was Roy.

“I’m sorry, I just really need to talk to Roy Harper. I was given this number by Jade Chaumont to only use in case of emergencies. I was just attacked by Lady Shiva and I need to disappear. I was hoping he would be able to help me and my children.” Marinette hoped the men were who she thought they were.

“How do you know Cheshire?” The second man asked, his voice turning hard with anger.

“I helped her deliver her children. Lian Marie Harper and Tommy Andre Blake. Please, I need to know I have a place to go after I leave my apartment.” Marinette moved to Lian’s room to begin packing her clothes into a bag.

“Lian, Harper?” The second man, the man Marinette was hoping was Roy, whispered to himself. “Is she, is she mine?”

“Legally, according to the country of Paris her birth parents are Jade Chaumont and Roy Harper but I adopted Lian soon after Jade left her in my custody. I did the same for her little half-brother.” Marinette took the bag with her to Tommy’s room and packed him some clothes. “I just, is this or is this not Roy Harper?”

“Yes. Yes I’m Roy, Roy Harper.” Roy’s voice rose an octave, his joy clear in his tone. “Cheshire told me that we had a daughter but I never believed her.”

---

Roy, Jason, and Kor’i met Marinette, Lian, and Tommy at the airport. Roy and Jason were holding their bags while Marinette passed Tommy to Kor’i so she could more easily guide Lian through the crowd and securely hold her carry-on which held the Box of Miracles.

“Where are we staying while here?” Marinette clutched Lian’s hand as she spoke to the men who were escorting them out of the airport.

“Technically, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Lian Dupain-Cheng, and Thomas Dupain-Cheng are staying with an estranged relative of the elder Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” Jason muttered while keeping his eyes peeled for danger. “We’ll stash you somewhere safe where the League won’t dare try to retrieve you from.”

Jason ushered Marinette and her kids into the car they’d brought with them to pick them up. Jason waited for Kor’i to get into the backseat before he closed the door and got into the driver’s seat. Roy got into the passenger’s seat and made eye contact with Lian in the rearview mirror.

“So, Lian, how old are you?” Roy asked his daughter.

Lian held up six fingers with a grin, displaying a missing tooth. “I’m this many! And Tommy’s this many!” Lian put down three of her fingers and giggled.

---

Jason, Roy, and Kor’i helped Marinette get the kids out of the car and helped them into the manor.

“My grandfather will help you set up new identities.” Jason said after he closed the doors behind him. “We’ll set you up in one of the ground floor rooms so you don’t have to remember the floor plan of more than one floor while you’re getting settled.”

“Thank you. So much for all you’ve done.”

---

Marinette, Lian, and Tommy Dupain-Cheng became Martha, Auriane, and Remi Hensley after a day of filling out paperwork. Martha traded her earrings for a thin, open ended, rose gold ouroboros bracelet, and agreed to let her kids eventually wield a Miraculous.

Martha debuted as Vipère shortly after learning that the Waynes, the family she had somehow found herself adopted into, were the Bat Family. Vipère was mostly seen accompanying Red Hood and Arsenal but was also seen following Nightwing and Starfire on occasion.

If Vipère occasionally had shadows of her own, then no one aside from the family needed to know that they were her kids.

#maribat #ml crossover #mlb crossover #ml x dc #mlb x dc #kwami swap #marinette dupain-cheng #guardian marinette dupain cheng

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ossy-p-art · 4 years

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cringe ass nae nae writing

writing some spm stuff based on an au I came up with forever ago about Luigi and Dimentio never unfusing and everything is terrible do not look me in the eyes

???

Something enters your space. A light tip-tap as it skitters across the floor is what first alerted you of its presence, but now even if it held still you’d know exactly where it was. You can smell the magic it emits, and even more damning, feel its presence within space and time. The divot it makes in the fabric of space, the border of its flesh- you could identify its location if it was pitch black and you were deaf.

Easy meal.

You lunge at it moving at not even half your top speed, and easily snap it up between your jaws without a second thought. You chew- and feel an odd nagging in the back of your skull. You slow… It feels like you should be focusing on something.

Well, the taste certainly isn’t nice. Sharp and bitter, coppery and cold. The texture is worse, the thing is cutting up your mouth quite a bit. Its making quite a racket in there, and you feel like the noise its making is….important. Its not just any random series of sounds, its… a voice? Its speaking a language… the tone is very harsh, very mean… it makes your eyebrows furrow. You know this voice… its demanding somethi

“DON’T YOU DARE SWALLOW ME YOU NITWIT!!“

LUIGI

You come to your senses and immediately hack up the creature that had been in your mouth, and it tumbles a few times before steadying itself on extended, spiderlike appendages. It seems disoriented, then furious, then disgusted.

"EeeEEW LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO MY DRESS YOU JERKS!”

Something seems comical about this tiny green creature disciplining you. Shes less than even a third of your size. You search your mind for a name. She’s… she’s….

“Do you even recognize me? Its me, Mimi! Hello???"

Your head lifts quickly. That’s the name! She seems pleased you’re showing recognition.

"Can I finally get a decent welcome now? I’ve been worried.”

Her face is washed over with a new expression- relief. You’re unsure why. She approaches you, boldly, and places a hand against yours.

"…You’re still alive in there, right, L?“

That name just about sent a shockwave through you. You back away quickly, only to begin stumbling over your long, flexible limbs. You don’t know if you’re fleeing from Mimi or the nonexistent embodiment of the information itself, but you crash into a heap in your distress.

"Wh- hey! I’m not even trying to scare you guys!”

Something deeply disturbs you about how she addresses you in a plural sense. You still feel like your sentience is escaping you, like you’re moments away from returning to the mental state of a wild animal.

You try hard to focus. You forgot you even had an identity. You had just been prowling around in the ruins of Castle Bleck for some time now, like a predator. Remembering your own name was a slap to the face, scaring the last animalistic tendencies right out of you. You scour your mind for context…you try to remember…

The chaos heart was inside you- more specifically in your chest. You could hazily see your brother hopping from platform to platform, trying to counter you, trying to win…but also trying not to hurt you.

He couldn’t choose both.

You remember looming over him. He went too easy on you. You had the upper hand. Your foot was raised to crush him.

And then you remember absolutely losing your mind.

The heart in your chest was subject to a sudden onslaught of emotional and magical violence that burst forth from you all at once. You remember forcing the chaos heart out of your chest and deep into the pit of your stomach, like most of your unpleasant emotions.

Down into your core, away from light, away from control, buried underneath the rest of your guilt and sadness you keep locked up inside.

And then you fainted.

Your name is Luigi.

You tentatively stand up. You can feel the chaos heart still deep inside your gut, though it feels different. Wounded almost…. changing? Its pulsing inside you, shifting. Its uncomfortable, to say the least. Bitterly cold.

You’re still in the monstrous form you were attacking your brother in. A horrifying half-you, half-jester abomination. Your neck a repulsively long stretch of black and white, with a ruff to cover the base. You pull your head closer to your body. You feel terrified of yourself. Mimi cocks her head as she approaches you.

"Hey, L, its ok.“

Her tiny hand rests on yours, and you feel a little more at ease.

"The others are alright, y’know. Nastasia is kinda rough around the edges, but things have been ok!"

She offers you a smile. You feel selfish for not worrying about the others- your main concern right now was yourself.

"Um, Mario has been just fine too. He was really upset about…all this. But hes healing really well!”

She must’ve seen you tense up in fear, because she pursed her lips and patted your hand a few more times.

“Nass says that you should have the power to change…"

You tilt your head.

"Like, y’know. Change outta this…gross ugly body.”

She gestures to you as a whole. You’re not exactly an adept magic user, and you’re scared of trying to channel the chaos heart’s magic for any reason… But apparently its not your choice, as someone else begins using it for you.

DIMENTIO

As soon as you catch wind that it is an option, you begin to shift out of this bulky, uncomfortable form. Your height shrinks, limbs grow shorter, and your neck becomes a reasonable length as you manipulate the heart resting inside you. The thing is in shambles from its harassment earlier- presumably yours.You didn’t think your manipulation was going to break the damn thing, but now for some reason its dysfunctional. You finally are able to stand on two feet without assistance of your arms like some kind of ape, and casually float a few inches off the ground. You examine your body, much to an ignored Mimi’s annoyance. You don’t really want to talk to her. Your head is killing you, and taking the time to contemplate and form dialogue would only make the pain spike. You instead examine your body as Mimi taps her foot impatiently.

Your poncho which once fit your bigger form decently now drapes over you like a dress. You have scars all over your exposed legs and arms. Gloved hands, a fancy little ruffle around your neck… with your tattered clothes and ruffled hair, you look like quite the train wreck. You absentmindedly tap your cheek before realizing in fear that it is completely exposed, along with the rest of your face.

You scan the ground in a panic before finding your prize- your mask. You slide it on, breathing a sigh of relief. It still fits perfectly. You feel a sense of comfort with it at home on your face. You cast a glance over at Mimi, who looks wholly irritated.

"Is that Dimmy now?“

You scoffed lightly, attempted to come up with a retort, but were unsuccessful in forming a single sentence. Your throat feels horribly damaged for some reason. Possibly magic burns. The pain causes you to fall to one knee, and Mimi quickly skitters over, despite her previous expression of distaste

LUIGI

Having a human-like body again fills you with so much relief it nearly blocks out the intense horror you felt when your arm moved against your own will to pick up Dimentio’s mask and place it over your face. The material was cold and uninviting, and shivers ran down your spine when it remained on your face despite there being no strap to speak of. You tried to gather your courage and stand back up, but just wobbled and collapsed on the ground. This is….ok, too, you guess. Mimi stared at you concerned.

"I’m gonna get Chunky to carry you outta here, ok? Its super cold and I dunno if its good for you in here. Its gonna be ok."

Mimi gave you a pat on your side, and as quickly as she came, the spiderling skittered off into the darkened ruins of Castle Bleck.

You remained on your side, waiting. Mostly alone. Making horrifying discoveries by accident. You had ran your tongue along your teeth only to realize they were razor sharp. You could bite your own tongue off if you wanted to. You tried to rub your eyes, only to feel that they were empty sockets, devoid of your once charming blue eyes. You have no idea how you’re still able to see, even if your vision is rather poor. You decide to stop moving completely, before you make another nightmarish discovery, like your ears being inside out or your hands being on backwards or something.

The worst part about being left alone is having to endure the activity inside your stomach with absolutely nothing to distract you. The chaos heart was like some kind of animal, chewing away at you and leaving you feel horribly drained. You hugged your stomach, as if that would help

DIMENTIO

You need…a compromise. Something else to occupy the chaos heart aside from your flesh. A power source maybe. If it had something else to gnaw on, it would likely be more easy to deal with. You moved your arms out of the vise-like grip they had over your stomach, and turned to lay flat on your back. You moved your hands under the fabric of your oversized poncho, letting them rest over your stomach. You noticed with a bit of distaste that it wasn’t as flat as before. Are chaos hearts fattening? Are they bad for you?? You ponder this for awhile as magic gently trickles through your fingers and into the flesh of your stomach. A mild pain relief spell, nothing too advanced, but enough to let you catch your breath. You breathe slowly, trying to ease away the panic that is flooding your nerves. Deep breath in, slow exhale out. You rest your eyes as you attempt to meditate, and for some reason you aren’t calmed in the slightest. This isn’t like you. Why is your heart racing like that? You don’t really know why Mimi is being so docile right now- you don’t really understand half of what she said. Why was she telling you about Mario of all people?? Do you look like you care? And another thing- clearly you must’ve lost the fight…so why are you still breathing?

And where did that green fool wander off to in all this?

#writing #spm #dimentio #luigi #spm mimi #pleas dont call me cringe #alliance au

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jjeong-bun · 5 years

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through the woods | kim namjoon [m] | [REPOST]

characters: namjoon x reader, mentions of other BTS members

Rating: nsfw, 18+

Genre: werewolf!au, smut, fluff, oneshot

Warnings: smut, mating, biting, heat, impregnation kink, receiving, soft!namjoon, namjoon being an adorably bumbling cutie pie, Jin being a wingman, other sinful stuff

Word count: 9k

notes: reposted 16.06.19

***

There was something so incredibly empty with your reality; a dreary existence filled with morning college classes, night-shifts at the University library and your solidarity with the elderly landlady of your apartment complex the only human connection you had on a daily basis.

You were a self-indulged introvert. Social interaction sapped your energy far too low for you to function properly the next day. But as you returned piles of books back into their respective shelves on a Friday evening, you were filled with a sense of despondency. You body caved within itself into a pit, twisted around as if to fill something. You craved another’s feather-light touch, slipping around your body like star-kissed grazes. You needed companionship, and not from the ratty old toy stuffed in your bedside table.

A soft exhale left your mouth in a short breath, fingers twisting around the trolley as you pushed your way through the aisles of bookcases. The library was expectantly vacant on Friday night, only a few languid bodies. Mr Song, the grandfather-like librarian for the University, sent you a bleary smile as you passed him by.

“I can handle the rest of the shift myself.” He took the trolley from you, nudging you aside. “You should head home before it gets too late. There’s been an increase of wolf sightings around the area. Remember to text me when you’ve gotten home?”

The rise in wolf sightings was met with both fear and fascination through the campus. Your University’s mascot was a strong, black silhouette of a wolf howling to the sky. Legends say that the University grounds were used as the basis of wolf lore, a key idea that attracted many artists like yourself to come and indulge in the supposed otherworldly experience. As such, wolf sightings were looked on with scepticism and disbelief, after all, most students that claimed to see them were adamant believers of the legend of the grounds.

With sluggish steps, you waved Mr Song goodbye before stepping into the elevator to take you down. You were one of the last ones to leave, fingers gripping your shoulder bag as you stepped out into the numbness of night. The night air was the awakening coldness that you needed, a shower of ice that breezed through you thin cardigan.

Your university was a small campus, not the best in the country but perfect for your needs. Converted from an old family manor, it was surrounded by acres of uncharted woodlands that were the perfect inspiration for your art and a welcomed distraction from the bustling capital of Seoul. As always, you were struck by the quaintness of the area, an echo of a past life you wished to have experienced for yourself. You were old-school; long sleeved jumpers and vinyl records, doodles in moleskine notebooks and poetry from Shelley and his contemporaries.

Taking a shortcut through the woodland, you tried to calm your mind. Nothing seemed more appealing to you then huddled under the covers of your bed. Despite your love of your apartment, you’d be lying if the woodlands weren’t your place. It had little to do with the fact it was outside and more to do with the silence it ushered in, especially during the early hours of the evening when the sun had finally settled behind the banks of clouds in colours of exploding violet.

You inhaled another large breath, footsteps dragging in the familiar cobbled trail through the woods. You could finally breathe, the emptiness you felt earlier subsiding. It was a lovely feeling, the escapism the woods presented. There was a euphoric moment where it was you alone in the world, just you and the winking moon above the treetops.

A threatening growl broke the tranquil of the night.

The kind of fear that deluged your body was akin to being trapped inside a house whilst a hurricane-ravaged outside. You were in a moment of peace inside the stability of your four walls, but you could hear the danger coming closer and closer.

Sharp intakes of air flooded through your mouth as you turned around hurriedly, a sense of agitation settling into your bones. Tightening the grip on your bag, you ran forward in swift steps. As moonlight faded away, there was barely enough left for shadows. But you could clearly make out the large pooled silhouette of a four-legged animal creeping slowly towards you.

The wolf was ragged and untidy but stalked towards you in the grandeur of animalistic power. A scream ripped through your body, burning at the sides of your throat.

With a threatening growl, it lunged at you, swiping your legs to the ground. Your bag was ripped from your shoulder, a sharp burn surrounding the junction between your shoulder blade and neck. Pain and panic engulfed your senses as fear filled your lungs. You couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. All you could feel was the claw that punctured your leg, ripping through your jeans in sadistic hunger.

Villainous black eyes glowered down at you, a menace of unyielding muscles of flesh pushing your body down. With a loud growl that rumbled through its belly and the widening of its’ mouth, you reached out for something, anything, to fend it off. A scream ripped through your mouth when it reached forward to try and clamp at your face, your hand reaching around you on the floor as you flinched away.

Gripping a rugged stone, you threw with all your limited strength at its’ body.

It hit the monster’s side, bouncing off in a tame way but gave you time to drag your injured body away. Adrenaline bounded through your body as you found a forsaken tree branch on the ground. Shielding it in front of you, you cried in pain as you tried to stand. Agonising

Tears burned your eyes. “Help! Please, somebody!” You screamed.

The wolf snarled, its’ jagged teeth stepping forward with potent power. Sobs heaved your chest, as you branded the flimsy branch like a weapon, stumbling backwards in pain. “Is anybody there? Please!”

Another howl ripped through the night, deeper, darker, than the wolf in front of you.

“Fuck no, no!” You trembled. This was not happening. You were not about to be eaten by two fucking wolves. You could feel your body slipping, mind becoming hazy as you struggled to stay up. A numbness lay in wait as you forced yourself to stay alert.

The wolf suspended in time as it heard the call of the other, before a larger beast jumped from the shadows, canine teeth bared in an uncontrollable growl of dominance.

Your mind turned to chaos in the darkness of the night before the moonlight took over. You slipped from consciousness just as the other wolf sank its’ teeth into your attacker’s neck.

***

The heavy sound of footsteps thudding against floorboards was enough to send your eyes snapping open, back straightening up in a tremor of adrenaline. A strangled gasp croaked through your clogged throat, like a hand squeezing your voice out with it’s clenching fingers. You felt a twinge of pain in your left leg, twisting your body up in a taut stretch. The source of the noise, a young man taller than most, was visibly startled. He turned his head towards you, relief flooding his features as he rushes to your side.

It’s then that you finally take in your surroundings. Streams of sunlight bundle through the bedroom and your body is encapsulated with the smooth linen. Your legs were free of your usually constricting jeans, and an oversized, white shirt engulfed your body in waves. The room was a decent size, larger than your small apartment room, with a window seat and stacks and stacks of books covering every nook and cranny.

The man’s fingers reach out towards you in earnest worry but stop just short of actually touching you, as if you are a priceless artefact he is too scared to break.

Your breath caught in your chest, blood rushing through your body as your eyes lifted to meet his.

He had the kind of face that would stop people in their tracks. A chiselled jawline and an aristocratic nose, a smile that sent you to an early grave because of his prominent dimples. Two deep sun rays embedded into cheeks, brightening his sun-kissed face to rival Apollo’s golden statue. Noir, hooded eyes blinked in your direction, worry stained in them as they travelled around your face in search of discomfort or pain. He breathed out a sigh of relief as you pulled yourself up, a warm smile splitting across his face.

“You’re awake. Thank god, I was just about to call Jin hyung.” His voice was thick and smooth, like velvet chocolate or hot morning coffee and was flooded with relief. The smile didn’t leave his lips and you could feel your heart thrum rapidly against the confinements of your chest.

“Who, who are you?” Your voice was rough and grainy, harsh against your throat. “Where am I? What happened?”

The man rested his hands on the bed, before sending you a dimpled, reassuring smile. “My name’s Namjoon. I-I found you in the woods last night.” His forehead crinkled in worry, as he sat at the foot of the bed. “You leg was bleeding a lot.”

Memories from last night erupted through your mind. “There were two of them! Oh my god, they attacked me. I almost-” You gasped out, panicking.

Namjoon rushed forward towards you, hands wrapping around your arms hesitantly as if waiting for your permission. When you seemed to sink into his warmth, he pulled you closer to him, wrapping you closer into his embrace.

“It’s fine,” He whispered. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Fear still pricked you as the emotions from last night replayed in your mind. Your fingers unconsciously tightened on Namjoon’s shirt as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, seeking something. Safety. Security. Namjoon’s hand left your side and instead rose to the top of your head, detangling your hair with the soft touch of his fingers. “You’re safe now.” The feeling that filled you was too intimate, an intensity that should not be experienced between two strangers.

“Namjoon-” The creak of the door startled you, your hand raising to grip Namjoon’s shirt tighter. Namjoon’s reacted swift, pushing you behind him in an act of protection. His body tensed before another face popped his head around the door.

Namjoon visibly relaxed, turning around to you. “Are you okay?” He whispered, hand reaching out to touch your wrist. You nodded your head, a hand resting on your chest to calm your panicked heart.

“Jin hyung,” Namjoon rose from the bed turning towards the other person. You sole attention was now on the other stranger. He too was almost inhumanly handsome like an old golden Hollywood actor, beautifully thick lips and star-studded eyes.

“I’m Jin,” He nodded towards you, sending you a soft smile. “What’s yours?”

You whispered your name, fingers clawing at the sheets that pooled around you. Namjoon repeated your name, lips rolling around each letter as if they were a spell. He never let his dimpled smile leave your gaze.

“Is it okay if I check your leg? I might not be a doctor yet, but it’s better than nothing until you can actually see someone, right?” Jin let out a short laugh, cheery like a child’s giggle.

“Not yet?” You asked. Jin sent you a lopsided smile. “I’m in my fourth year of med school. You’re lucky I’d just got back from placement when Namjoon rang me like a madman crying about you being attacked.”

“I didn’t cry,” Namjoon mumbled, eyes drawn together as he glared at the older man. He moved to the opposite side of the room, towards a window seat, as Jin took his place.

Jin let out a crooked laugh, placing a large first aid box on top of the bed. He motioned towards you with such an earnest smile that you felt obliged to lift your leg up. It wasn’t until then that you felt the twinge of affliction bubble through you.

“Ow.” You groaned in surprise, fingers reaching down towards the pain in your left leg. It was bruised in varying degrees of violets and coal blue, with a white bandage coiled around, seeping a dark scarlet.

“Let me clean this up, okay?” Jin had turned into medic-mode, swiftly cutting through the seams of the bandage. You didn’t notice the way Namjoon would flinch every time you winced as Jin began to cleanse your wound.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Jin reassured. “It looks a lot worse because of all the blood, it’s a superficial scratch, not too deep. I’d get it checked out at the hospital or the college’s health clinic because it looks like an animal scratch, but it’s not infected and you don’t have a fever.”

You thanked him as he wrapped your leg in a gauze. Namjoon’s eyes were trained on Jin’s every movement. “What time is it?”

“It’s five in the morning, the sun just rose,” Namjoon answered. “If you feel well enough, I can walk you back to campus?”

Your eyes followed the way his mouth formed the words, but they were trained solely on his cherry blossom pink lips.

Namjoon called your name, voice snapping you out of your trance. His lips twisted into something other than the sweet smile he had shown you before. A smirk drenched in danger. Fuck, he had caught you staring.

Snapping your eyes away, you twisted your hands around the sheets beneath you in embarrassment. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Well, then that’s sorted.” Jin sent you a kind smile. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m exhausted. I have some afternoon classes and then another night shift at the hospital so I think I’ll squeeze in a nap if I can.”

He cleaned the mess he had made fixing you, discarding soiled bandages and empty packets of gauzes into an adjacent bin. “It was nice to meet you Y/N. Don’t forget to get it checked out, alright? Wouldn’t want all my hard work go to waste.” He grinned a cheeky smile, before tapping Namjoon on the back, what seemed like a silent conversation flowing between them.

Jin left with a wave of goodbye, leaving you alone with Namjoon. The air between the two of you seemed electric, burning with unsaid words.

“Thank you.” You broke the silence. “For saving me.”

He shook his head, dimples blurring your vision. “It’s fine. You shouldn’t walk home on your own at night though. Anything could happen, like being attacked by wolves.” Your voices joined in a unified laugh, his husky laugh ringing like music to your ears.

You pushed yourself off the bed, standing shakily on your two legs. Taking a tentative step forward, you winced at the twinge of discomfort that followed. Namjoon seemed to notice as his hand came to rest around your elbow in support.

“Careful.” He was far too close, and you realised, a head taller than you. Your head reached the middle of his chest, nose bumping against it as you tried to stabilise your movements.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, thankful for his grip on your arm as you limped forward. “Do-Do you think I could borrow some trousers?”

Namjoon had the decency to blush, but you noticed the way his eyes followed the delicate curve of your small legs. “Ye-yeah, hold on.” He stuttered, hands leaving yours to rummage in a large drawer.

He pulled out grey sweatpants, far too long for your short height. “Here.” An uncharacteristic giggle left your lips as he turned on his heel, back facing you as you grappled shoving your injured leg into the trouser hole.

“I’m done now, thanks.” He turned around again, eyes darkened. A soft, dimpled smile slipped across his face, a dusting of pastel stars across the plums of his cheeks.

His house was larger than any other student accommodation you had seen, but you guessed it made sense if more than two people lived there. From the window of his room, you could see that it was surrounded by acres of woodland, its’ own picturesque cottage surrounded by cobbled pathways leading away into the forest.

“Let’s go?” Namjoon turned you towards the door, hands braced around your elbow as your body relaxed under the safety of his warmth.

It’s not until you're in the warmth of your bed, filled to the brim with water and anti-inflammatory antibiotics that make you sleep, that you realise you never told Namjoon about the wolves.

***

Life went on as normal as you thought it could, your wound had healed in a matter of hours after Namjoon had dropped you off at home. There would have been no remnants of the night if not for the harsh pink scar of two pink lines running at the back of your left leg. You had gone straight away campus police, who sent out animal control through the woods. They found your tattered cardigan and shoulder bag, both ruined beyond use. You couldn’t salvage the drenched notebooks inside, meaning you had to take off shifts from work to finish rewriting all of your lost notes. Mr Song was more than accommodating, glaring at you in a grandfatherly fashion if you so much as deployed any sort of physical exertion.

Namjoon had been the silver lining in the event, his presence becoming a burst of constant sunshine in your previously cloudy life. When you were well enough to return to work, Namjoon had followed, taking it upon himself to walk you home after every shift. A month had passed since the events in the woods but Namjoon’s presence in your life was as strong as the glaring summer sun.

It was strange to be seen walking around with him. Some of the classmates you were friendly with mentioned how big of a deal he was at the University. He was head of the Debating Society, a philosopher that had girls hooked with his intellect. Yet he decided to choose to spend time with you.

There were rumours about his house as well, and the flatmates that shared it. It turned out that Jin, despite being a fourth-year medical student and clearly being apt at the job, had familial connections with the Board of Education for the college. As such, he and his six roommates, which included Namjoon, were given the cottage grounds in the forests away from the bustle of the campus but close enough to be able to attend.

The rumours ranged from the ordinary to the fantastical. Apparently, the rise in wolf sightings had only occurred after they had moved into the cottage, but you along with the rest of the student population believed it to be a funny story to use to joke around with them.

The more you spent with Namjoon, the more your life became encompassed with the six other boys he lived with. The rumours were proven to be wrong. They were all varying degrees of colours that you didn’t know how they could all survive under one roof, but they somehow made it work. Jin had become an older brother, cracking dad jokes and making life a little more cheerful. Yoongi was a mystery to you at first, but soon became you one of your closets confidence, the two of you have an understanding of the need for silence sometimes. And Hoseok, god Hoseok was a piece of dynamite, always leaving you with your sides splitting whenever he and Jimin teamed up to make you laugh. Jungkook reminded you of your own younger brother, you held such a soft spot for the boy with the cheeky grin who made dirty jokes at Namjoon’s expense. And then there was Jimin and Taehyung, the same-aged friends that invited you into their little group of 95-liners, and you felt complete. And it was all thanks to Namjoon who had broken you out of your shell, step by step.

Mr Song had taken a clear liking to the boy, seeing the effect he had on you.

“Son,” Mr Song had interrupted the two of you on one of your Thursday shifts, resting his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take this one to the coffee shop down the street? She’s been working way too hard and the semester is almost over.”

You let out a fraudulent laugh, eyes turning to slits as you glared at your boss. “What are you talking about Mr Song, I still have an hour left of my shift.” Fuck, this old man was trying to set you up.

Mr Song actually rolled his eyes. “The library is dead because one of the fraternity houses are pulling a party, oh so I hear.” You forgot that Mr Song was the undisputed University grandfather. Everyone told him everything and he always had an unhealthy supply of chocolates for those midnight study snacks.

“We could go,” Namjoon interrupted you. “You know- if you want to that is! It’s completely fine if you don’t want to-”

“No, no, I’d love to go for coffee!” You winced at how much of a mess the two of you were, bumbling over each other’s words. In Namjoon it was adorable, with you the embarrassment swamped like a wave of regret.

Mr Song grinned, leaving the two of you tripping over each other’s words, shades of cherry blossom pink and blush red.

You had thought the not-a-date coffee date would be awkward. But Namjoon had this incredible way of making you feel so comfortable. He didn’t drain you. In fact, you began to crave his presence when he was gone. His witty banters gave you such a high, and his smiles would make any bad day infinitely better. Fuck, you think you were obsessed with his dimples.

There was an undeniable companionship that had begun between you and Namjoon. He was so otherworldly, like a hero in a story. He was giggles and dimpled smiles, warm coffees with extra cream and beige sweaters. The more time you spent with him, the more you became enamoured.

It was little things that caught your attention. The way he always leaned down so you were closer together when you spoke, bending his tall frame so you wouldn’t strain yourself. The way that he was so obviously interested in what you had to say about your art, asking so many questions and being generally enthusiastic made your heart melt. The way his dimples would become so much more prominent when he talked about his roommates, who were more like family than friends and who had taken you in as one of their own. You loved the way his eyes would brighten when he talked about a new book he had started reading or the way he would sometimes wear spectacles that would make his noir eyes so deeper.

The coffee date made you wonder if maybe things could be different. You knew that by now you were deeply infatuated with him. You just needed to know when to, if to, confess.

He was so jittery throughout the date, an adorable blend of nerves and sweetness that you just couldn’t help but hope. But when he dropped you off at your apartment, he left without so much as a hug, and the pit inside you that had been so full with your boys pricked in your stomach like a starving dog tied to a leash, whimpering for more.

***

You knew something was wrong when Taehyung comes to pick you up suddenly after your Friday shift.

Namjoon hadn’t contacted you in almost a week. There was static between the pain, unresponded texts leading to unresponded calls. You contemplated whether to just go to the boys’ shared house but worry at imposing them stopped you.

He smiled at you, looking up from his phone as you nudged him on his side. “Where’s Joonie?”

Taehyung pouted. “Is he all you think about? You didn’t even say hi to me!”

“Hello there, Tae.” You let out a small giggle, ruffling his hair. “But seriously, where’s is he? He hasn’t replied to my texts.” You tried not to let the desperation stifle you.

Taehyung carried your bag in the same way Namjoon did, one strap was thrown over his shoulder. “He has a fever, been sleeping all day. He woke up an hour ago and demanded that I walk you home from work otherwise he’ll tell Jin I was the one who almost burnt down the kitchen.”

You laughed at Taehyung’s obvious sulky attitude, nudging him in the side. But it didn’t stop the pang of worry to twist in your gut. “Is he okay though? Is he drinking lots of water? Is Jin looking after him?”

“Woah, calm down.” Taehyung grinned. “Too many questions to answer all at once. One and two, yes he’s fine, it’s just a fever and he is drinking plenty of water, three, Jin is currently at his bedside waiting on his majesty’s hand as we speak.”

With your mind eased a little, the two of you fell in a comfortable silence as you walked the long way to your apartment. You stayed well away from the path through the woods after your encounter with the wolves, and animal sightings had gone down since.

“So, how is your project going?” Taehyung asked, turning your thoughts away from Namjoon.

Your growl of frustration answered his question as he let out a chuckle at your expense. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me! This project is literally god-sent but my mind is refusing to give me a fucking break.”

“What’s the assignment?” Taehyung, despite studying to be a paediatrician, was as invested in art as you were. It was one of the many things the two of you bonded over.

“Predators and Prey. Every time I try to draw or research ideas I come up blank. I have no idea what method to use, if I should go for the modernist approach or abstract, or if I should sculpt or paint something. The assignment’s too vague and lenient, it makes me feel like I’m drowning under all the choices!” You whined. “And if that’s not enough, this will be the final piece of the term and the best pieces get to be used in the Art Exhibition that’s happening in the museum next month and I need the extra credit that it’ll bring.”

Taehyung seemed to realise that you didn’t want an answer, just someone to rant to. This was usually Namjoon’s job, but with his absence, you realised how much of your time had been taken up by him. He would calm you down, send you in the right direction. Your lack of friends became all the more prominent.

Taehyung noticed you trail off in thought, eyes wandering down to follow the steps of your scratched flats against the stone pavement. He poked your arm. “What’s wrong, buttercup?”

“I guess I’m just worried.” You sent him a small smile, hoping he wouldn’t worry about you. Taehyung linked your arms together, as you reached your apartment complex.

“Don’t stress too much. Namjoon hyung would kill me.” He grinned cheekily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tell Namjoon oppa to feel better.” You waved at him, already pushing the elevator button to your floor. “And tell him he better reply to my texts otherwise he’s a dead man!”

“Being apart from you, he already is!” You didn’t understand Taehyung’s words, but a blush flushed your cheeks. Did that mean what you thought it did? The doors closed as Taehyung’s boxed smile faded from your view. Pulling out your phone, you fingers hovered over Namjoon’s icon before you quickly typed out a message.

Taehyung just told me you're sick. Don’t be in too much pain. Call me when you’re feeling better

***

The sharp shrill of your phone disrupted the silence of your room, a rude awakening from your slumber. With a lamenting groan, you grabbed the abhorrent device, bleary eyes attempting to adjust to your phone’s harsh light. Jin’s face blared out to you in an emergency shrill, and you swiftly swiped to answer.

“Jin, what’s going on? “Why are you waking me up at… three in the morning? Jin, why the hell are you calling?” You growled.

“There’s a problem with Namjoon,” His voice was rushed, uneasy, agitated.

Your stomach dropped. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to come now. I’ll explain it when you come, but please hurry.”

You were already out of your house, shoving on your coat jacket and slippers. “Is he okay? Jin, please tell me is he okay?”

“He needs you. Just come quickly please.”

“I’m on my way now. I’ll be there in five minutes! Just, tell him I’m coming!”

Namjoon was sick. It was as if you had swallowed a knife, pain stabbing in your stomach. The pit inside your stomach had hallowed out, now filling you with such fear it could swallow your whole body. You needed to get to Namjoon.

Your body moved on auto-pilot, running out of your apartment complex and back through the parking lot towards. The quickest way to Namjoon’s cottage was the woods, it was in between your apartment and the campus. A sense of apprehension rose in your throat but was quickly slammed down by the anxiety of Namjoon’s status. Swallowing your fear, you pushed forward, steps turning into large steeds until you were running through the woods, towards him, towards Namjoon.

Jin was waiting for you outside the cottage, as you heaved with deep breaths. “Where is he?” You shoved past Jin, pushing your way into the house. The entryway was consumed in darkness, the other boys nowhere in sight.

Jin grabbed your hand. stopping you from running up the stairs to look for him. “We can’t calm down his heat, I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Heat? What’s going on? If it’s so serious, why haven’t you called the ambulance?” You were still running from the adrenaline of your run, heavy gasps between each of your words. From upstairs you could hear a heavy thud.

“Stop, listen to me please.” He begged. “Fuck, there’s things Namjoon was supposed to tell you, but this wasn’t meant to happen so quickly. But he’s in so much pain and the boys and I can’t take it anymore. We need your help.”

“Oppa, you’re really scaring me right now.” You never called him by the honorific before, being a foreigner it didn’t feel right for you to use it. It slipped out. From upstairs, a loud shout of anger or pain thrashed through the house. It was unmistakably Namjoon.

“Oh my god.” You ran towards the stairs, before Jin’s arms clamped against your waist, pulling you away. “Let go! He might be hurt!”

“You need to let me explain! He’ll do something he’ll regret. Just listen to me!” The pit in your stomach pulsed in pain and you hunched over, dread filling you. You fell limp in Jin’s arms as he pulled you away from the stairs.

“We… we’re not what you think we are. Do you remember the day that Namjoon found you in the woods a month ago?”

“Why does that have anything to do-”

“It has everything to do with it, Y/N!” Jin's hands fell to his side as he released you. “What did you see, what did you actually see?”

“Two wolves attacked me.”

“Think clearer, Y/N. What happened?”

You didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to think about what had happened. Your thoughts were of Namjoon sick, in pain.

“Y/N come on, I know you remember. You know.”

“There was this wolf,” You took a deep breath, hands clenched together. “It attacked me and then another wolf came and I passed out.”

“What did that wolf look like? Y/N, come on.”

“It was huge.” You whispered. “Twice my size. And it had this… this obsidian fur, sleek and thick.” You voice choked in your throat, mind coming to a realisation. “It… it attacked the other wolf. I remember, it, it saved me.”

“That’s right. He saved you. He… protects you, wants you safe.” You were heaving, taking in huge gasps of air.

“You said ‘he’. Why would you say ‘he’?”

“You’re a smart girl, Y/N. How did Namjoon find you when you were so far along the path? Why does he walk you home after your shift?”

Your thoughts betrayed your common sense. Why did he know it was wolves who attacked me when you didn’t mention it to him at all?

“This isn’t possible Jin, this isn’t… this isn’t real!”

“Y/N please, you know it is. You’ve heard the rumours, the legends.” Werewolf, the voice inside of you whispered. He’s the wolf that saved you.

You closed your eyes, picking at your nails. “Where’s Namjoon? What’s heat?”

“A heat is the time when wolves’ bodies are forced into a mating state, once a year in the winter, male unmated wolves go through the cycle for a few days whereas female wolves go through it every month, like a period, except the symptoms mean that they have an unrelenting desire to mate and conceive. It’s a body’s natural system of ensuring reproduction. Because of this, if a wolf meets their mate, then they’re forced into heat.”

“So what, he’s horny? That’s what’s making him sick?” Your disbelief was palpable.

“It’s more than that Y/N. Namjoon’s heat came out of nowhere, it’s been induced. It’s the middle of spring and his heat, it’s too strong. He won’t, can’t, eat or drink anything. This isn’t something that’ll go away because it’s been building up since he saved you in the woods.”

Your mind felt heavy from the revelation. You wanted to run away. But the thought of Namjoon in pain made your insides physically hurt. “What- what do I do? How can I help?”

“You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. The younger boys have left the house because it’s too hard for them to be surrounded by the pheromones, Yoongi and Hoseok have gone with them to keep them safe. I’ve stayed back to help Joon, but since Taehyung came home after dropping you off he’s refused to eat or drink anything. You don��t have to do much Y/N, just try and get him to drink some water? Please. That’s all I’m asking you. If he does anything or makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, I’m here. I won’t let him hurt you. You can walk out now if you want to, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what else to do to help him.”

Your teeth sunk down in anxiety, “I just need to get him to drink water, right? Stay with him until his body flushes the heat out of his system?”

Jin nodded in understanding. “That’s all you have to do.”

“Is he in his room?” You ask, turning towards the stairs. Jin followed you this time, pushing you up the stairs. “Yes, he hasn’t moved since last Thursday. Namjoon will kill me when he realises I’ve dragged you into this but I don’t know what else to do.”

Taking a heavy breath, your hands wrapped around the doorknob of Namjoon’s bedroom. “It’ll be best if I didn't come in with you. He’s… well, let’s just say the scent of you on Taehyung made things a lot worse.”

Jin’s hand rested on your shoulder, giving you a squeeze of encouragement. “Call if you need me, I’ll be right outside.”

Nodding, you took another deep breath, before pushing the door wide open.

Nothing could really prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Ropes constrained his hands to the headboard, and his body was laden with glistening sweat, bare to your eyes. A thin silk blanket covered his lower half, but his body convulsed within itself, twisting around in its’ sheets. He was fucked out. Gone was your sweet, dimpled Namjoon.

In his place was a beast. His dark hair was matted against his forehead, as his face squeezed in pain. He was trembling, perspiration slipping in beads of crystallized sweat.

“Namjoon.” You gasped out.

He froze, body turning taut. You rushed to his side, fingers reaching out before you stopped yourself from touching him. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? Should I go get Jin?”

An earth-shattering growl ripped through his mouth, so deep it ran through your body in electric waves. “Don’t say his name.” He spewed between clenched teeth. “Fuck, you smell like him. Why do you smell like him?” The animosity in his voice surprised you.

“Namjoon.” He shook his head heavily at the sound of your voice, closing his eyes as he listened to your voice. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.”

Your fingers raised up to his forehead on your own accord, brushing away his tangled hair so you could look into his eyes. He met your gaze with such burning emotion, you felt the heat rise up in your stomach. “Your burning up. Let me help me.”

Rushing to his bathroom, you found a small washcloth, and rinsing it under the tap you returned as quick as you could. Namjoon hadn’t moved, eyes following your every movement. Hesitantly, you began to wipe away his sweat. Namjoon almost moaned at the contact. “Y/N, stop. I might hurt you.”

“Shut the fuck up Namjoon.” You glared at him. “You’ve ignored me for a whole fucking week because you're horny? Why didn’t you just get it out of your system instead of letting it get to this stage?”

Namjoon’s face took on a pallid sheen. “What did Jin tell you?”

You bit your lip, watching as Namjoon’s eyes followed the sink of your teeth into your delectable muscles. You saw the hunger in his eyes, blood rushing to your cheeks. “I know it was you. The wolf that saved me. You’re not going to hurt me Namjoon.”

“Y/N.” His voice had turned to a whimper. “I didn’t want you to find out like this. I-I’m sorry.”

You smiled at him. “You’re way too sweet for your own good, Joonie.” Your hands raised to carry on wiping his body, moving from patting his forehead to swiping at the thick expanse of his neck and collarbone.

“Fuck, love, please stop.” He groaned.

“What is it, where does it hurt?” The endearment did not escape your notice. Your heart thudded against your chest.

He shook his head. “You need to go before I do something I regret.” His eyes were wild, dark with want, with need.

“I want to help you, Joon. Please, I don’t want to see you in pain.”

“You don’t you get it! There’s a reason I’m tied up! You’ve made me want you so badly, you’d always wear these fucking short dresses around me that would be so easy for me to bunch them up and take you against the shelves. God, I can smell you sometimes when you’ve pleasured yourself, your cum smells so delicious, I bet you’d taste so sweet. Your voice would sound like music when I’d sink my teeth in that delectable neck of yours, and I’d fill you to the brim until your full of my cum. You’re perfect for me, made for me, and I for you. I want you. I need you”

Your breath caught in your throat, deep, hot-blooded pleasure flooding through you at Namjoon’s dark voice. Your thighs clung together, but not before Namjoon let out a long wail of desire.

“Fuck Y/N! I can smell you, fuck baby you smell so sweet.” He threw his head back against the headboard, a deep groan rumbling out of his throat. “Love, you need to leave now, or else I’ll lose control. Please.”

“Namjoon, look at me.” You pushed yourself so you were straddling his legs, arms on either side of his torso as you looked up, determination flooding you. “I am not leaving you. It hurts to see you like this, it hurts to see you in pain. Let me help you.” You repeated. You raise your hand to the sides of his face, bum settling on the tops of his thigh. You could feel him freezing beneath you, eyes turned to stare into your own.

“I like you.” You confessed. “I really, really like you.”

With a loud cry, lips collided with yours in a crash of lust, teeth digging into your bottom lip to pull you forward, closer to him. He swallowed the moan that broke through your throat, body shifting forward in the restraints.

“Fuck, Joon.” You gasped out for breath. Namjoon reached forward for more of you, lips running down the expanse of your neck. You whimpered as his teeth sunk in small bites, tongue slipping out to lap at the bruise.

“More,” He groaned. “I need more.” His hands pulled at the ropes restraining him in anger, power radiating him as he growled. “Love, undo them.”

Hands shaking, you reached for the knots, tugging to try and untie them. “Shit, who tied these ropes?” No matter how much you twisted and pulled at them, they wouldn’t undo. It didn’t help that Namjoon had returned to pressing fevered kisses along your collarbone, making your hands tremble. “I can’t get them undone, Namjoon. What do I do?”

“Take off your shirt.” Just as you reached down to pull off your nightshirt, you heard the telltale sound of footsteps running down the stairs and the front door slamming shut.

“Was that Jin?” You realised your mistake once you gazed into Namjoon’s dark, hooded eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you not to say his name, baby?”

Your throat seemed to close at the dominance in his tone. In a bid to appease his jealousy, you hurriedly pulled off your nightshirt.

He groaned at the sight, forgetting your slip as of now. In your haste to reach Namjoon’s house, you had forgotten to put on a bra. You bare breasts were exposed to Namjoon’s lustful eyes. He whined out, nudging you forward with his legs. You charged forward, legs coming up to wrap around his waist as he pulled himself into a sitting position. A moan ripped through you as your chest came in contact with his, the contact setting your skin alight with electricity.

You hips jerked, coming into contact with something that hard and thick. Pleasure jolted your lower regions, and Namjoon’s head bumped forward, foreheads touching. His lips puckered around your breast, tongue rolling around one of your buds as you let out a long cry of his name.

“Namjoon, please.” Your hips began to move in a steady motion, picking up in speed as licks of heat flashed into you. “Give me more.”

“Fuck, baby. If you keep doing that, I won’t last.” His teeth sunk down, your mind turning white as hot pleasure filled you. Your hands ran up the back of his neck, looking for anything to keep you up before you fingers gripped the soft grains of his dark hair tightly. You took your time travelling down his back, loving the way his mouth parted around your breast in heavy whimpers at your hands’ ministrations, before the reached forward, slipping down to come in contact with his clothed member. His loud moan was deep and husky, head rearing away from your breast as his eyes closed.

You gripped him tighter, hands reaching forward for more, more, more.

“What do I do Namjoon?” You began to press shy kisses down his collarbone. “Tell me what to do.”

“Shit, baby.” His gravelly voice echoed across the room. “I need to fill you up.”

You groaned at his heavy words, hands tightening around his thick length. “Take off your shorts.” You raised yourself up, hands leaving his member to pull down your sleeping shorts and underwear in one swift moment.

“That’s it, baby. Leave yourself bare to my eyes only.” His words were making your headlight, filled with only thoughts of his kisses. You sank back down on his member in one strong thrust. Your high cry made harmony with his raspy groan, as your hips moved together in synchronised thrusts.

His thick lips were back on your neck as your hands moved back to his boxer, slipping them as low as you could reach. Your hands came in contact with his bare member and you let out another loud wail as you pulled it out. It was thicker than you expected, and you couldn’t help your hands from gripping on the top a bit too tightly.

Namjoon winced, lips parting in short gasps against the soft tract of your neck. “Baby, I can’t take it anymore.” You nodded, body thrumming with need.

Thighs slick with arousal, you slowly pushed yourself back down into Namjoon’s lap. You could feel the heat of his head slipping into you, warmth gripping your body as you it enveloped you. Namjoon threw his head back in a deafening howl, an animalistic sound that reminded you of the beast inside of him. The pit in your stomach clenched, but instead of the usual emptiness, it began to pulse with ecstasy as Namjoon pushed up inside you.

Your hands left his hips, reaching up to his shoulders as you gripped them in your vice. “Namjoon, more, more,”

At the sound of your voice, Namjoon snapped forward with such ferocity you felt your body jolt up. A feral growl left his lips as he pumped up into you, his arms tensing by its restrained. With a powerful wrench, a loud crack resonated around the room as the headboard gave a feeble cry as Namjoon’s hands ripped from his constraints.

Namjoon’s touch sent you spiralling. It was like another dimension was added, another layer of pleasure bleeding into you. His hands were rough and harsh, gripping and pulling as they seized your hips to pull you even closer. You were enthralled, absorbed in the creature in front of you and the control he had over your body. His hands slipped down your waist to clasp your ass, kneading them with his long fingers to heighten the elation that ran through your body. Your hands gripped his shoulders, reaching around to grasp his neck tightly as he thrust deeper.

“Namjoon,” You cried out, overwhelmed by his scent, his touch. He was all you could see, all you could feel. You didn’t think you could last longer, couldn’t feel any more full than when he ground into you. He was so thick, so warm. “I want all of you inside me, all of it.”

You could feel your ecstasy rising, a euphoric paradise between your two souls. “I’m going to fill you so good, love. You’ll look so beautiful rounded with my seed that’ll grow into my pups, my beautiful mate. My love.”

“You are mine and I am yours.” With a commanding snarl, his teeth sunk into your fragile, human neck. You exploded with a cry, your pit filling with Namjoon’s essence, brimful of his love. He whispered sweet nothings into your ears and urging you further and further into your pleasure. Your whimpers fuelled him, one of his hands came to grip your leg that was wrapped around his waist, lifting it higher and hitting inside you deeper and deeper.

He reached his high when you began to murmur his name over and over again, drilling into you to prolong his bliss. Snapping forward, he pulled your lips to his in a harsh kiss, tongue slipping past to smother you in love. He began to still at your whines, your head lulling into the crook of his neck in exhaustion. He fell backwards lethargically, hands raising from your hips to the small of your back.

With a sweaty kiss to your forehead, he started to lap at the bite on your neck. You legs fell to his side, too weak to hold on as he slipped out of you. His hands ran up the sides of your body, before resting on either side of your neck as he raised his gaze to yours. Cedar eyes held your gaze with such warmth you didn’t notice as he slipped out of you, your combined love escaping your grasp to cover the banks of your thighs.

“I like you too.” Your Namjoon had returned, dimpled smile and all as he grinned down up at you. “I-I think I might love you.”

You felt cherry-blossom blush shuffle across the apples of your cheeks. A soft laugh left his lips as he leaned down, full lips engulfing yours in a sweet kiss.

You hummed in response, blossoming in the aftercare of his confession. He twisted you around so you lay on his side, a petty frown marring his face as he watched the rest of his cum leave your body. Your fingers reached up to trace his lips, a giggle rumbling through your body and the sudden switch in the atmosphere. You pulled your arms around his neck to try and pull him down, wanting to cuddle longer.

“Let me take care of you now.” He kissed the soft skin underneath your jaw, as you pouted up at him. He beamed down at you, before reaching around for the discarded washcloth and began to clean between your legs. He kissed your cheek in apology when you squirmed at the oversensitivity, before throwing the washcloth to the ground and pulling you into his chest.

You legs entwined with him as you rested your head in the safety of his neck. “So, what does this mean? Between us?”

His arms wrapped around you tightly, as if scared you would disappear. “You’re my mate, I knew when I saved you in the forest. But you have a choice. I would never force you into something you didn’t have a choice in.”

Your hands raised to reach the soft patter of his heartbeat, curling closer to his body. “I want to try, with you. I think I’ve liked you ever since I woke up in your bed.” You grinned cheekily up at him at the insinuation. His hand came down to swipe your bare bottom, and you yelped at the sensation.

His dimpled smile set your heart on fire. “I want to try too. Thank you, for saving me.”

You laughed at him. “We saved each other, I guess.”

***

The morning came with the feeling of warmth pooling between your legs. With a sleepy moan, you felt the graze of warm sunlight shuffle around your body as you roused from your heavy slumber. A pleasant brush pushing your thighs slowly apart woke you to what was going on.

“Namjoon,” You gasped out, voice husky from sleep. He was hidden from your sight, underneath the covers of the bed. You could feel him whimper against your legs, groans of pleasure as your voice rumbled through his body. Soft kisses were pressed against your inner thighs, and despite the sleep-induced haze you were suffering, your body responded on its own by spreading your legs open wider.

“Joon,” You called out his name again when you felt the warmth of his breath reach higher to your sensitive parts.

Your hands slipped under the sheets, gripping his thick hair as he kissed when you so desperately needed him to kiss. His tongue slipped out as a soft moan left your lips before he dived in with such resolute need you felt the tips of your toes curl with pleasure. Your back arched forward, wincing as the residue of last night’s events hit your strained body. The combination of the pain and pleasure heightened the feeling of Namjoon between your legs, his hands coming up to cup your behind and pull your forward, deeper into his sinful mouth. A finger came to join his wicked tongue, flooding you with such pleasure you bounded up, a low moan rushing out of your mouth.

Euphoria flooded you as you came undone on his tongue within seconds, hands gripping his hair to pull him closer as he lapped you up. With one last drink, you felt him pull away as you tapped his chin, stabs of oversensitivity pinching you.

Hands still gripping his hair, you pulled away the blanket to see him rested on the tops of your thighs, lips glistening with your sweet essence. The sight would forever be ingrained in your mind. He grinned up at you, tongue sweeping out to lick his lips. Your body was flushed, red from his caresses.

Your hands rested on his head, running through his soft hair as you tried to calm your breathing. “What was that for?”

He pushed himself up, placing soft kisses along the stretch of your stomach, rising up between the valley of your breasts to reach his mark. “Because I love you.”

You felt yourself break out into a content smile, the sound of his confession music to your ears. As the sun filtered through his bedroom, the need to keep that heavenly smile on his face filled you.

Your hands reached the nape of his neck, as your left leg latched around his waist. You hauled him down, hands coming up to grip his shoulders as you pulled him down in a fervent kiss. He groaned out as you bit down on his lips, hands reaching out to pull you closer.

Reaching down, you felt his length harden in your hand as you pumped him closer, his soft rapturous groans urging you on. When he slipped into you, you warmed in his hold, in his love.

Hours later, as he two of you lay in each other’s embrace, his hand lay entwined with yours. Your body caved around his galaxy-heavy kisses, his storm-like hold. In the emptiness of your body, he filled it with his love.

#namjoon x reader #bangtanarmynet #namjoon #smut #wolf!au #werewolf!namjoon #rm x reader #rm #namjoon x you #rm x you #kim namjoon #bts #werewolf!bts #repost #ttw

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blankdblank · 5 years

Text

Glass Heart Pt 2

Pt 1 was part of @sdavid09 52 wk prompt challenge

@love-of-fandoms, @aspiringtranslator, @lilith15000, @howdoistopadulting, @himoverflowers

Shouts were heard across many a dinner table sharing the news of your thievery with many determined to go over and give you a piece of their mind on disturbing family relics. Only in their way over to see the land themselves only to freeze seeing the returned statues glowing in the early morning sun, clearly polished and pampered better than any had imagined.

Around them a clear set of indented paths and odd pits, upon further inspection of a bribed teen, each were filled with a layer of layered stones sealing in the sides of the deepest ones you had secured into place with oddly crossed metal pipes clearly linking them.

Between the smaller dips with raised frames clearly filled with layered stones in thick walls in the form of large planters dividing the clear pathways in the odd maze of a garden left to dry without shifting without your supervision. At the base of the largest circle a clear miniscule slope was uncovered feeding into a dip around the edges under the lowest step with pipes folded over the steps now with an odd steak the end was tied to leaving the elders to assume it was a planned marker for a drainage pump. The clear improvement in just a day left them baffled as to what you could finish with by the end of the week if you had done all this nearly alone in one day.

A long morning of work later and the new metal shingle roof was in place through your castle ending your team repairs on that for the time being until the guys were available in another months time to help swap out the wiring, plumbing and paneling throughout. Alone again you made the long walk back to your rental where you left your boots outside when you had knocked them on the front walk, showering in as hot water as you could muster up you felt your body relaxing you onto your next step. Dried off and pulling on a fresh pair of jeans over your matching set of lingerie you had been meaning to try out in public possibly able to flash a strap of your shoulder when the shoulder of your loose t shirt would drop to the side.

In your car however in the drive through the main square you caught glances of symbols forming the word ‘Shuktu’ above the doors used to mean ‘Kin Only’ when placed that way. Holding back your urge to cry you continued on driving ignoring the stares of the Dwarves pretending not to notice your presence there. From what you could remember Dale was a good two hour drive making you mumble to yourself, “Guess that takes ice cream out of the picture…”

Two hours out of your way brushing your wall of curls from your face you strolled through the lot of the shop collecting a cart along the way. Simple spare soaps and toiletries were gathered along with a cooler you would fill with ice. Barely half an hour later you had all you’d dream of needing and you collected your ice on the way out. You had stuck to mainly pasta, sauces, gravy mixes, bags of potatoes and vegetables able to handle the ride home with a risked try for a roll of hamburger, bag of fries and a box of creamsicles and milk in the cooler.

An obscenely long drive back you were elated to find the frozen items and milk still good for your first trip inside to unload it all. In the light of the sunset you started to pull together a simple pasta dinner that you ate while sipping on an alcoholic lemonade you sat back on the floor against the front of the couch watching some obscure film on a classic log tossing team. A ring from your phone broke your attention and you eyed the screen lighting up with another call from your ex you declined.

In its vanishing you eyed the messages on your screen from your cousin Lei and various relatives scolding you on your abrupt departure and the drastic demotion your ex had gotten. Wryly you chuckled and took another sip of your drink, “Ooh, that should sting.”

A skype call came in and you smirked seeing your friend’s face pop up. “Jaqi! There you are!”

With a giggle you gave a finger wave in return to hers, “Here I am.”

“You are ok? I heard from Daddy what happened. You’re not holed up in some motel, are you? Because we have a great number of properties you know you’re welcome to.”

You shook your head, “No. Staying in a place I rented, friend of my uncles on my dad’s side. Helping out with some family stuff. Looking close to a year, possibly for good if things work out.”

“Oh.” She pouted then asked with a playful grin, “Any cute guys out there?”

You giggled and lowered your drink from another sip, “Remember my Prince of Scowls?”

With a giddy squeal, “How is he?! Is he single?! How does he look?!”

You giggled again, “No idea if he’s single, he’s drop dead gorgeous and moody as ever.”

She chuckled, “Ooh, what is it with you and your weakness for scowls.”

You shrugged, “Just the Dwarf in me. Can’t help it. Meaner the scowl the more protective and snuggly they are.” Making her giggle as you did in delving more into her weeks of traveling she had planned ahead for her photography career for a top fashion magazine. For hours you chatted until you had cleaned up your dishes and sprinted upstairs to drag your comforter and pillows into the closet you locked to curl up on the floor for the night to hope to get some sleep before starting on making the first of the windows for the castle.

With thousands of windows and stained glass murals for doors and windows alike you had quite a bit to get done but thankfully you had sent ahead for some of the frames for the more intricate locations. Mainly for the windows topped with arches and various awkward shapes to fit in the odd cutouts between the visually confusing shelves covering nearly every inch of the walls you couldn’t wait to fill up again when everything was done.

…

Unable to sleep your eyes opened and you changed your clothes. Strolling out in the dark you found the piles of beams in the shop you loaded up on another cart and pulled along with all the tools you would need under a tall ladder. For hours you worked alone in the dark, starting front the supporting beams you slid the smaller arched beams through the notches into the tops of them. Bracketing down what you needed for extra support. Mentally you held them in place until you could set up the ladder between them to secure the meeting joints. Starting with a single arch in the dark. Under the light of the rising sun the entire area was covered in layered arches forming spiraled domes and smaller beams in the ground for securing points for decorative lattices and plaited walls you would layer climbing vines of flowers that would help to shade flowers needing a break from the harsh summer sun.

When the first of the cars and on foot passers by arrived you were seen in the distance laying a ditch for a stretch of pipes to feed from the branch of the river a mile off. When the beams had been finished you had finished installing the piping inside the full construction. And at the final length of tubing you heard the water rushing through to slowly fill the center section that when the pump was turned on would feed the fountains and sprinkler systems feeding from the smaller raised sections both for floating planters and decorations.

Panting at your glance to the growing crowd your arm rested on your shovel as you wiped your forehead with your free arm streaking a line of dirt across it. Inhaling deeply you turned back to filling the ditch back in with a wave of your hand urging the rolled back grass to settle back into place again. Strolling back to the courtyard you pulled the dirt filled cart over to the first raised planter you started to fill up now that the wooden supports for the properly secured layered stone walls were removed. One by one you pulled it around emptying it into the planters you marked with symbols in chalk to remind you which seeds and bulbs to plant there tonight.

Next your eyes fell to the slabs of unpolished opal you had pulled from the earth you split up into awkwardly aligned pyramids to the distant Dwarves looking on. One by one forming seating sections for those passing through you would finish off later. Barely an hour into the job and a low bellow sounded making you sigh and focus on your work as the Dwarves isn’t he distance flinched and double took between you and the group of massive pitch black mortar bears starting to trot their way over to you. All clearly over six feet tall in their fully grown stature known for their territorial tendencies, though this clan used to the townspeople were rather docile if respected and known to wander from time to time only to be brought back again by members of the Blacklock clan before any incidents would occur.

In the distance a few Dwarves chuckled betting if you could outrun them or not only to fall silent at their leader coming to a stop and strolled straight for you, pressing his forehead to yours in a giggle inducing stroke of his face against yours. Lost to your giggles the Dwarves could not hear in the distance a fur coated arm drew you against his chest for a tight hug you gladly returned mumbling sweetly to him in Bearish, “Hey there Big Bo. At least you remember me.”

The leader once a cub born the day you were now proudly showed you his large brood of sons along with his grand cubs, all at three feet tall already, that came bounding into the courtyard to climb all over you before inspecting the thankfully bear proof structures. Their happiest spot was to climb down into the center circle to splash into the filling pit then bound out to plop and wiggle all over you. Each element of the structure was shown and explained to them earning their awed stares at you in leading them to the greenhouse where you would start next after a stop at the wild beehives your kin tended to in good need of some fresh food sources to survive this year.

Stunned beyond belief at the video captured of your being accepted by the troublesome mortar bears known to dwell in your lands the Dwarves flooded through the town sharing the news puzzling them as to how you managed not to get chased off their lands.

A single swipe of your hand tore the foliage climbing the greenhouse walls with another after. This one focusing on the sand contained on the glass you tore free leaving the rest of what formed the glass to crumble to the ground you used a rusted snow shovel to scrape to the walls tearing the stubborn plants tearing the stone floor up from its original level places you would focus on removing next. Layering the giant stone tiles outside you returned inside and began to work on leveling the ground while the bears lounged in the green pool of water in the center of the room with the brave birds floating between them to get some relief from the growing heat.

Coated in sweat you panted hearing a truck backing down your drive up to your studio. “Oh no.” Walking out you removed your gloves you folded in your back pocket on the stroll out to the truck packed with trees and small shrubs, “Blast it all…”

A mix up dates had your trees unloaded into the field by the studio and you inhaled sharply while stretching your arms in the empty truck driving off again. The mixture of orange, lemon, lime, pear, cherry and apple trees sat by the hundred and you exhaled rolling your shoulders to head off to the empty patch of land you would be adding the majority of the citrus trees and at each of the areas you had marked off with the loaded cart packed with trees you forced holes open in the ground the trees were eased into and nestled safely one by one. Staggeringly to the last flickers of light you managed each of the trees into their homes including the final flowering trees and shrubs through the courtyard now taking shape a bit more.

Leaving the rest of the seeds and bulbs you had received while the bees from your hives set out to inspect the new food sources you returned back to your studio. Heavily by the completed wrought iron frame for a special gazebo you settled on your stool and got to shaping each special piece of colored glass to form murals with spinning panels that when hit by rain will sing as the water falls into the flute like tubes below the murals.

The sound of an engine dying and doors opening and closing turned your head to see the dying headlights on a familiar blue truck and with a sigh you turned back to the intricate glass knob you were currently making raising the metal rod to your lips to blow a flame tipped heated breath through it adding a special spiral of flecks through the center. Twisting it around you propped it between your knees grabbing a metal spike you used to work a dipping spiraled head through steady turns of the pole hearing the heavy boots of the men entering while they looked at the vast piles of possible bits for your castle they couldn’t quite work out.

When they stopped they remained silent in hopes of not breaking your focus stirring you to say, “Lovely evening for a drive?”

Balin grinned, “Yes, yes it is. Much cooler now the sun has gone down.”

Thorin nodded then drew in a breath blurting out, “Just what do you imagine you’re doing?”

Blindly you answered in turning the pole again adding the final spiraled dip deepening Balin’s grin, “Making a doorknob. Would you like one?”

“I mean with the statues.”

“Ah.”

Under tightly knit brows his words exploded out of him, “How dare you imagine you can just go and move the founder of the Blacklock clan and his-,”

“Dabondor.”

Thorin, “What?!”

“Dabondor, his name, would you like the names of his bears as well as their unique abilities and gifted knowledge to him?”

Thorin, “Amazing! You can read a book!” At that you lowered your pick wielding hand and turned your head to look up at him with a stoic yet challenged expression Balin nearly stepped back at assuming you would throw something at Thorin, “The matter is no one moves those statues! If necessary only kin is allowed to move them and only under the strictest-,”

“Who told you I’m not?”

“Not what?!”

“Kin? Who told you I’m not?” His lips parted and his gaze darkened, “I was born on this land who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do with it? I know the laws and charters as well as you, Durin.”

“I have lived here for centuries! And never once has there been an Elf born on these lands!”

Softly you replied through a chuckle, “Wow!” His exhaling breath came with a growl and you added, “Are you going to feel like an ass when you remember me.”

“I will not feel like an ass! Because you have never lived here before!”

On his heels he turned and you looked to Balin saying, “I’ve a full stash of honey, if you or even pookie over there would like some-,”

Thorin turned again, “Just because you are managing these lands does not mean you can hand out the clan’s honey! None of my kin will accept anything from the Blacklock hives until it has been handed back to a fully recognized clan member!” he turned for a moment then added, “I am not your pookie!”

You nodded to his back and replied, “Well aren’t you just full of hot air today. Why not put it to good use and blow me?” A smirk was flashed to Balin in his fight not to laugh and keep a steady expression when red faced Thorin turned to see you looking to the fire with pole raised to your lips for another heated breath making it just a bit larger emphasizing the color effects from the swirls.

Thorin, “You have never lived here!”

You nodded again lowering the pole you tapped against the steadying stand making the base of the knob split off freeing it to fall into your palm as you said to Balin, “Let me know about the honey.” Thorin turned to you and you smirked at him grabbing the metal innards of the knob you eased into the heated glass you cooled and sealed around it saying, “Just because you don’t remember me doesn’t mean I didn’t exist. I have a hunch your cousin has a notion who I could be.” Standing up you moved to add the knob to the cushioned box with the others saying as his eyes scanned over your fire lit face urging his body to untense at his first full glimpse of you spreading a greatly despised warmth through his body followed by an urge to move closer to kiss you in your challenging smirk. “I look forward to our next argument upon which I will remain the gracious victor I am. Enjoy your drive pookie.”

Exhaling sharply as you moved to grab another clump of glass to heat up he simply growled and stormed his way to the truck leaving Balin scratching a mental tally in your favor. Stealing a glimpse of your bear print tattoos on your wrist lit by the flames through your nod at his brief wave in trotting over to join his cousin in the truck.

“The nerve!” Thorin growled out for the fourth time only to look at Balin who was intently looking out his passenger side window to avoid laughing, “You are not accepting that honey!”

Balin nodded, “Whatever you say Thorin.”

“Some nerve! Blow me! She said that! Blow me!”

Balin freed a weak chuckle in answering, “It was a clever pun.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes at his cousin who said, “Did you have to insinuate she was lying about her kin?”

“She is!” At Balin’s pause Thorin’s heart skipped feeling for the first time he might be terribly wrong in his assumption of you. “Who is she then? She said you know who she is, who is she then?!”

Balin simply shook his head knowing the answer he wanted to give would only anger Thorin worse and send him back to you in a rage for the pain he had felt at having lost you in their lives so long ago. “I am uncertain. However,” he turned his head to catch Thorin’s eye in their parking in the driveway of their own castle, “By looks alone she does appear to be a relation of the clan.”

Thorin huffed and killed the engine climbing out of the truck only to slam the door behind him making Balin shake his head, whispering, “Ass, ass, ass.” In his climb out he saw Thorin heading for the door and shook his head remembering the pain and anger in your eyes at his first insult to you.

Inside the door all in a huddle the Durins came into view and Dis asked, “Well, what did she say?”

Thorin promptly fired back a bit louder than he had intended in his lingering rage, “Blow me!”

Diaa’s mouth dropped open and Grandma Niro said, “Thorin Durin!!”

Balin came into view as Thorin stormed up the curved staircase in an angered trot through his cousin saying, “No, Thorin went off on her and she meant it as a pun. She said he was exceptionally full of hot air today and he should put it to good use and blow her, she was blowing out a doorknob.”

At the top of the stairs Thorin shouted, “No one takes her honey!” Turning to storm to his too he shouted, “No Elf has ever been born here!” At his door Balin’s grin split across his face at the final cry of, “Pookie!” The door slammed and Balin broke into a fit of giggles while Fili and Kili did the same.

Diaa came closer as Balin wipes his cheeks, asking him, “What did he mean by no Elf was ever born here?”

“Our tenant claims to have been born on those lands and is part of the Blacklock clan. A claim Thorin adamantly claims to be false. He also issued a ban on is accepting anything from her produced from those lands.”

Niro eyed his expression asking, “And you?”

Balin wet his lips answering in a confirming glance that Thorin wasn’t able to hear, “She stated Thorin would feel like an ass when he remembers her. Inferring she knew us and we knew her,”

Diaa, “Balin, Thorin right?”

Balin, “Thorin is an ass. A terribly well meaning one, but ass none the less.”

Upstairs through all the stacks of scrapbooks and piles of unsorted pictures Thorin feverishly searched for any sight of any Elves, crossing off all except a single one that seemed similar to you who he couldn’t place. He knew all the former residents of this town and her he recognized but he wasn’t certain how. Assuming a passing visitor he left it to you might have been born in the hospital just within town borders, if anything at all. But under no circumstances were you a resident or relative of any he had known.

Again his mind in moving to sit on his bed to remove his boots, in the firelight flickering across his legs and arms he shook his head forcing his focus off you with that temptingly fiery gaze locked on him. “Pookie.” Muttering it to himself he tossed his boots away into his closet then turned to plop back across his bed in a defeated sigh already doubting his formerly steadfast belief he never knew you. The contrary hurting him all the worse for possibly having missed you and now insulted you so severely to the point he seemed irretrievable.

Bathed and changed into your comfy sweats you closed your eyes in the dark closet lit only by a glowing fish night light so you wouldn’t slam into the island in your traveling through it. Stretched on your stomach on the inflatable mattress you had bought you raised your comforter higher over your back and tried to force the growling Dwarf from your mind so you could get some well needed rest.

All night and halfway to noon you slept and groggily made your breakfast that would fuel you the rest of the day and into the night. Another long stroll found you back at your studio on the edge of an incoming storm. Heavily the rain pounded and your new trees soaked in the water and stretched out their roots claiming their own spaces while you slaved away on your glass gazebo. On the edge of another storm when you had finished another project you made a brief night covered trip to the Durin castle. A simple bag was left hanging from the handle and you turned to make the walk back, returning in time for the first drops of the storm to fall while you returned your focus to the windows for the castle.

Heavily Fili and Kili came crashing down onto their sleeping Uncle, who jolted to consciousness as the rest of his relatives all poured in to join in on the hug. Chuckling to himself Thorin pulled out of bed and found his feet to join the other into the dining room to enjoy his birthday breakfast. After the meal as always he was led into the living room where he opened each of the presents offered to him from his various relatives then paused at the final one from Dis.

“Who is this from?” Thorin’s eyes met hers with an arched brow at the small yellow bag.

Dis shrugged, “It was on the handle when I went to check the mail.”

Thorin’s eyes lowered and he set the bag on his thigh and reached inside finding a small box covered with etchings of a phrase through outlines of clouds and a sideways crescent moon. ‘If you don’t know where you’re going then any road will get you there.’

Lowly he repeated the phrase then eyed the spinning lock on the front he shifted revealing a rounded tail in a half circle that when raised revealed the body of a cat crouching lifting the lid his lips parted in seeing the glass figurine inside the blue velvet lined box. On the inside of the lid was a slip of paper with roses doodled around the elegantly written note of, ‘To spark your memory here’s a clue. Many Happy Returns Pookie.’

Unable to be furious at the moment he raised the figurine of the Cheshire Cat with head propped up on his little arms tail raised cockily through his wide grin. Balin with a smirk asked, “Any idea on who sent it?”

Lowering it back into the box he answered, “Our tenant.”

Balin chuckled nodding his head to the gift, “Quite a gift. Some might say she’s sweet on you with efforts like that.”

Thorin rolled his eyes and locked the box again his fingers eased across the lid of, “Her intention is to taunt me. A note inside says it’s supposed to be a clue.”

Dis, “Clue?”

Thorin sighed, “To who she is.” Standing up he cradled the box in his hand, “I’m going to head to my studio. Get an early start.”

Niro hurried over to steal another hug, “Don’t you forget about dinner tonight. All your favorites.”

Thorin nodded and chuckled, “I won’t.” Moving past her in the dispersing of the group while Balin wondered just what else was on that note to keep him from showing it off and smirked to himself seeing Thorin’s care in handling the stunningly crafted gift.

Up to his studio he glanced out the wall of windows aimed straight out to the fold of two peaks coated in trees leading to your rental cottage blocked by the growing storm outside. Another sigh left him as he sat at his sketching table and set down your gift again, carefully inspecting every inch of it after setting the figurine aside. Lowly in a hum he mumbled, “No manufacturing markers.” His eyes focused for a moment on the small bear print with an Elvish rune inside of it for the word ‘Pear’ freeing a confused hum from him before he turned to the figurine to do the same noting the intricate details put into it and a similar stamp of the same paw and rune combination. Setting it inside the box again he pulled out the note he read then flipped over then sighed only seeing more doodles of roses across the back. “Why would she make this?”

Shaking his head he put the note back and closed the box then rolled to his clay figurine rolling up his sleeves to start up on the final touches of it before he would go through the process of casting the copper statue he was tasked to bring to life from a child’s sketch. In the middle of the casting process when he was left with nothing to do but wait he did what he always did, turn to a spare bit of clay and begin to shape blindly allowing his hands and subconscious to lead him.

A sounding of his alarm to remind him of dinner snapped him out of his daze and in his eyes focusing on the sharpened tool in his fingers he eyed the familiar pouting lips he was shaping. Taking in the full face he had been shaping he sat up flinching his hands back seeing your face with loose curls cascading around it stemming form the unshaped back half of the clay. Shaking his head he stood leaving his tool with the others and turned the carving around exhaling steadily knowing his mind had wandered as his dreams had entertaining Balin’s belief you might actually care for him in all his irritating idiotic wonder. In a quick turn he grabbed your gift he carried through the castle to his room to set it on his dresser where he was certain it wouldn’t get knocked around then showered and changed to head down to dinner.

Pt 3

#THorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr

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moonbeambucky · 7 years

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The Guardian (Part 2)

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader (Demon AU) Word Count: 2698 Warnings: **Suicide**, Violence, Torture, Body horror (I guess like medical experimentation & stuff), mentions of animal abuse ***The suicide is heavily implied so if anyone is uncomfortable by this topic but you want to know what’s happening in the chapter msg me and I can give you a trigger free run down!

Summary: Someone has been watching over you throughout your life. His intentions are bad, that is until you remind him of his past. Can you save the soul of a demon?

A/N: I hope this doesn't suck. If you like it let me know! :) Gif not mine, source (x)

PART 1 | THE GUARDIAN MASTERLIST

If his heart could still skip a beat it certainly would have. You had unlocked the door in his mind that had been shut for so long. The memories overwhelmed him, bits and pieces of a puzzle scattered on the floor waiting to be put together. He started slowly with his name. Bucky. He repeated it over and over again, furrowing his brows together with frustration.

“There’s more. Bucky… urgh!” he huffed, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes. He sounded out different letters until he thought he found the right one.

“G-George. No, James. James... Barnes. George was my father,” he said slowly connecting the pieces.

He pictured a man, with striking blue eyes and dark brown hair that peeked out from under a flat-topped straw hat. His cream buttoned down shirt was tucked into brown trousers, cuffed at the bottom to display his oxford shoes. Bucky smiled remembering his father, caring and selfless, who would always give up his last dollar to anyone that needed it. He was a hard working man who loved his wife Winifred. “Winnie, darling!” he would say, coming through the front door of their humble home.

George worked long hours as a banker but during the weekends he was a true family man. He took James and his younger sister Rebecca to the park. He watched James play baseball with some local boys, smiling at the nickname they gave his son as they eagerly called Bucky up to bat. Rebecca rode a merry-go-round, waving to her father each time her wooden horse passed the bench he sat on. He loved his family with all of heart. The accident that took his life was tragic, and Bucky never felt worthy enough to fill the large void left in its wake.

His country needed him during the war, there was no question but Bucky hated the idea of leaving his mother and sister. He wrote to them when he could during training and was lucky enough to receive their letters when he was overseas.

He slid down the wall, unseen by the humans that casually pass him by, as the horrors of the war replayed in his mind. Then he remembered the explosion on the cliffside and his biggest regret, living. He fell, hitting the snow covered ground with a huge thud. Every bone was surely broken, he groaned in agony and yet he felt numb. Hot tears stung his eyes as thought about his mom and Rebecca. He didn’t want to leave them, he was the man of the house, he needed to protect them. But there was nothing he could do except shut his eyes and wait for death to take him.

A blurred figure came towards him, calling out his name. A fellow soldier? No, it was an older man with a wrinkled face and dusty blond hair. “Bucky.” His smooth voice kept him from slipping out of consciousness. “Bucky, I’m here to help you.”

The man introduced himself as Alexander, Bucky’s spiritual guardian. “My wh-what?” Bucky’s weak voice murmured.

Alexander offered to save him, heal him enough to go home so he can see his family as long as he promised to work with him as a guardian when the time comes. Confused and close to death Bucky accepted the man’s offer as his eyes shut.

Bucky woke up, groaning as his body bounced with every step the men who were carrying him on a stretcher took. “You’re lucky to be alive, soldier!” he heard a voice say before slipping unconscious again.

Sometime later he opened his eyes, recognizing he was in the medical tent of the barracks. He groaned feeling a terrible ache throughout his body, which was expected after his tremendous fall, except he felt different. His eyes widened with horror seeing the absence of his left arm. A medic heard the commotion and rushed over to him, explaining that his arm was lost from the explosion. He looked down to see a small stump wrapped in gauze, just a few inches remained of his once strong arm. His injury would be sending him home though as soon as the papers were processed.

Bucky reflected on his thoughts, vaguely remembering the man, his guardian, who promised him a chance to see his family again. He didn’t realize the cost, nevertheless he was happy, he served his country honorably and he was headed home with a smile on his face.

Winifred sobbed mixed tears of joy and sadness as her son walked through the door. She was prepared for his injury but it didn’t take away the pain she felt for her boy.

“Son!” she cried, sobbing into his chest. Bucky wrapped his right arm around her back, “Ma! It’s okay. I’m okay,” he said hoping his words would alleviate her woes.

Winifred took him into the kitchen, having prepared a casserole, after a long time away she needed to make sure her son was well fed again. Bucky missed her cooking, even with the restrictions from food rationing, she was always able to turn anything into a delicious filling meal.

She sat beside Bucky tending to his every need, refilling his glass before it was half empty, wiping food from the corner of his mouth. Bucky held his tongue, just because he lost an arm didn’t mean he couldn’t take care of himself, but he let his mother take care of him; she almost lost her son after all.

Rebecca came home a few hours later looking unrecognizable from the last time Bucky saw her. Her hair usually styled with intricate curls was covered in a dusty headscarf, her dress was traded for faded blue coveralls. She had taken up work in a local factory, like most of the women in the country who took over the jobs of the men who left to fight.

Her face lit up when she saw him, with a bittersweet smile tugging on her lips as she noticed the flat empty sleeve on the left side of his jacket.

She was happy to have him home, they were all happy to be together again.

Later that night after their mother had gone to sleep Bucky and Rebecca were able to speak frankly. His heart felt heavy, wiping tears away as he relived the terrible things the war required him to do. Bucky told her mostly everything, only sparing her from the gruesome details he did not want his little sister to imagine. He also left out the part of the man, Alexander, the supposed guardian that saved his life, though he was half convinced this was a hallucination.

Bucky pushed open the door of his bedroom and gasped, not expecting to see the figure standing there waiting for him. His jaw hung open as he stared at Alexander who was very much real. He was a few inches shorter than Bucky but stood with towering confidence. “Surprised to see me?” he asked.

Bucky nodded, unsure of what words to say as he tried to quickly accept the existence of his spiritual guardian.

“About the arm,” he nudged his chin towards Bucky, “It was the best way to get you home.” Bucky cleared his throat before speaking, “Uh yeah, thanks, thank you. I’m just glad to be here.” He tripped on his words, smiling quickly before returning to his nonplussed state.

“How’s mom? She good?” Alexander asked with a curt undertone. Bucky nodded in response. “And sister?” A chill ran down Bucky’s back and he shivered before silently nodding again. “That’s good. I’m sure you said goodbye then.”

Bucky’s face twisted in confusion, “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alexander’s lips pulled up into a wide devilish smile. “Our deal boy. The time has come.”

Bucky sputtered out words, trying to reason with that he’s been home for less than a week. Alexander didn’t care, though he never stated the full terms of his agreement Bucky never asked. He accepted his help and he was quickly learning that his actions had consequences.

“Kill yourself,” Alexander snarled, smirking.

Bucky felt disgusted by his words, he refused. He could never.

Alexander cocked his head, closing the gap between himself and Bucky. His smile dropped, “Your mother and sister are on a train right now,” he calmly stated.

Bucky shook his head in confusion, “What does that mean?”

“I’m a man of great influence and power,” he spat, popping the sound the word he took so much pleasure from.“They are sitting in the first car and when I derail the train they will die, painfully so,” he smirked, “Unless…” he threatened.

Bucky felt nauseous, the thought of his family dying burned a deep pit within his stomach. “I thought you were my guardian angel,” he naively questioned.

Alexander dropped his head back and laughed with a twisted sense of delight. He turned towards Bucky revealing his eyes, now covered by a deep blackness that replaced any trace of humanity he once appeared to have. “I’m far from angel.”

He raised his hands up and the furniture in Bucky’s room began to shake. The desk broke in half, with all objects once neatly displayed sliding towards the center, the dresser toppled over, photographs dropped from their place on the wall. Bucky jumped out of the way as his closet door opened, his clothes were violently strewn across the room. He could not believe what he was seeing.

Alexander looked at a mirror and it shattered, its jagged pieces fell to the ground in front of Bucky. “You know what to do.”

Bucky bent down, apprehensively picking up the shard of glass. His teary eyes pleaded with Alexander but he showed no signs of faltering.

“What happens if I do this?” his shaky voice asked. “Th-they’ll be safe? No tricks?” “They won’t be harmed. I’m a man of my word. You do this and then you work for me. Go on son.”

Bucky shut his eyes not wanting to face Alexander. Son, the word stung in his mind. Bucky thought about his father, the honorable and good man. Would he do this? No, his father was a better man. He wouldn’t have made a deal with the devil. That’s what Alexander had to be. George would have seen through something that was too good to be true, he would have died with honor on that blanket of snow. All Bucky wanted was to see his family again, to protect them. Now he was left with a horrible choice and no way out. He had to save them, the family that would forever be plagued with unanswered questions. Why? Why did he do this?

Bucky choked on a lump in his throat as the tears traveled down his cheeks. He gripped the shard, feeling the sting of glass cutting into his hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing the people who needed to hear his words never would. He brought the shard to his neck while Alexander watched.

Bucky woke up on the hard ground, looking around he saw nothing, just blackness that felt like it was slowly creeping towards him despite his vast surroundings. There was a cold chill that blew through him yet he choked on the air, heavy with humidity making it difficult to breathe. Wait, could he even breathe?

He was alone and scared. He sat bringing his knees to his chest, going through the motions of crying without being able to shed tears, as he regretted the choices he made from the life he’ll never get back. Alexander appeared in front of him, pulling Bucky to his feet.

“You work for me now,” he spat. “And my soldiers aren’t weak.” “Soldiers?” Bucky questioned, “Alexander, I…”

He was cut off again. “You call me Pierce and I am not to be questioned. I’m not your friend. I own you. You’re gonna go up there and corrupt souls. Manipulate people, like I did to you,” he said with a sinister smile.

Bucky tried resisting at first, thinking since he was already dead that no more harm could come to him but he was wrong. Pierce brought in his trusted associate, a man formerly known as Brock Rumlow.

Rumlow was a twisted from an early age, torturing animals, slicing them open just to see what would happen. He became a surgeon, determined by his sickness to hurt people. It wasn’t enough for him to perform the surgery he was required to do. He lied to his patients, telling them the procedures he performed were life saving and necessary just so he could mutilate them.

He found a like minded assistant, Grant Ward, and together they abused countless victims. Operating without anesthesia, the relished in the sounds of screams as they experimented removing body parts, or attaching foreign objects within. Then men were caught and executed but they continue their work now as demon’s with Pierce’s full support.

Bucky had learned more about Pierce, the devil’s right hand man, a powerful demon who was building an army with plans to fight the angels in Heaven.

With the snap of his fingers Pierce made it possible for Bucky to experience pain again. Rumlow smiled as he began his torture. Minutes felt like years, years felt like centuries. Bucky had felt immeasurable amounts of pain. He tried not to scream knowing each time he did it only fueled Rumlow’s enthusiasm. He was carved with every tool imaginable, grinding his teeth as he felt the sting of each slice, only to have his body healed and prepped for the next round of torture.

Rumlow was fascinated by Bucky’s arm. He opened him up, removing what was left of his bone and replacing it with different objects. He settled on a metal arm, cast from the armor of a great demon, once a rogue knight who slayed countless villages during the Middle Ages.

Bucky knew how to end the torture, he held out for so long but he was weak, physically and mentally. He felt broken and so he conceded, accepting his fate. He hated himself for giving up. He carried out Pierce’s orders, being assigned to a variety of people all over the world; it didn’t matter who they were, only that they be influenced negatively to corrupt their souls.

One day Bucky was assigned to a new mother. He reluctantly went to the hospital with the intent on whispering thoughts to induce postpartum depression. He materialized in the hospital room, pushing past the flowers and balloons, not making himself known to the happy people who crowded around the woman. He stopped in shock as he saw his sister holding a baby swaddled in blue cloth.

“James, after my brother,” Rebecca said. “James Barnes-Proctor.” She wiped tears away as she smiled lovingly at her son. Bucky stood there in shock, seeing his sister and the man he assumed was her husband caressing the forehead of the sleeping infant. He scanned the room for his mother but she wasn’t there. He wanted to stay, to talk to Rebecca and tell her everything but he knew he couldn’t.

He left feeling determined, feeling strong like the man he should have been. He refused to do this any longer, resolving that he would rather be tortured for eternity than hurt anyone else. Pierce blinked a few times, silent in response to Bucky’s defiance. He simply smiled, snapping his fingers as a cloud of black smoke wrapped itself around Bucky. He struggled against the force of energy but wasn’t able to break free. The black cloud entered through his ears and fogged up his mind. Pierce locked away Bucky’s memories, wiping him to create the perfect demon, brainwashing him into fighting for his cause without disobedience. A soldier once again, ready for orders.

Bucky struggled to lift his heavy head, weighed down by all of his memories, guilt and pain. He wiped away fresh tears as he looked around. You had left, a while ago it seemed. Bucky wanted to find you. He wanted to undo some of the damage he’s done. Thanks to you he remembered who he was, he needed to do some good for a lot of people but he wanted to start with you. He tasted the salt on his lips before realizing the unfamiliar sense. How was he able to cry?

His thoughts were interrupted by the image of Pierce calling him back. Bucky wiped his eyes again, bringing his expression back to something neutral as he faced Pierce.

“Mission report.”

PART 3

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slushblock · 7 years

Text

Fell - Chapter 4 - A Long Way Down

This one ended up a lot longer than intended. Certain parts were gonna get truncated, but I got...

...carried away.

Purifying the corruption was a lot easier than expected.

Even the smallest pinch of enchanted pollen blossomed into great plumes of glittering powder, and wherever it touched the sickly purple grass or gnarled dark stone, natural color returned, vibrant and healthy. While there was no way the single pouch contained enough to convert the entirety of the rotten landscape, a little went a long way, and was more than enough for their particular task.

It wasn’t without its trouble, though. The creatures of the twisted land took an unsurprising amount of offense to their efforts, but it wasn’t anything a well-placed demon arrow or two couldn’t deter. Anything that got past Aura’s arrows was quickly eviscerated by either Axl or a bouncing ball of protective slime.

“Still not as many as before,” Axl observed as they descended into the trench once again, “Maybe you can send the slime home this time.”

“Nice try,” Aura deadpanned as she touched down on the ground, reaching for the purification powder. Taking a slightly more substantial amount, she applied it to the ground where they’d heard the sound of a hollow beneath. With a deep groan and cracking noise not unlike a shifting glacier, the ebonstone lightened, its knobbly surface smoothing out as its composition shifted beneath. Once the sound died down, Axl withdrew his pick and set to work.

Mining was always a hassle, but not nearly as much as it probably should have been back in the real world. The stone gave way to a spherical recess, large enough to comfortably fit both humans as they slipped in to gape at what they’d unearthed.

Floating in the center of the isolated pocket was a nearly perfect sphere of pearlescent black, which gave off a faint purple glow and a much less faint aura of pure unease.

Axl stared, putting his pick away as he slowly reached out to touch the floating orb, and almost felt his hair stand on end had it not been under his helmet. Not from energy, but from dread; he could almost hear faint whispers in his head the closer he got. He withdrew momentarily, then reached out again, more tentatively, giving the orb a light tap with his middle finger, like testing a doorknob for static on a dry day. The metal of his gauntlet rang off the surface of the pearly black sphere, giving off a hollow tone. The sphere itself wavered a bit in place before stabilizing..

“...Creepy…” he shivered, hugging his arms and glancing out of the hole for monsters before looking at Aura, “I wonder if these are what he meant when he mentioned stuff being broken.”

“No idea,“ Aura mumbled, having cringed at Axl tampering with the orb at all, “Better not mess with it more… see how many there are first, then decide what to do. If it is what he meant, I really don’t want to risk it if this is some kind of ‘three strikes and you’re out’ deal...”

As they emerged and continued purifying and digging up the jagged cavern whenever Axl’s armored footfalls sounded just slightly off, they met with a mild amount of harassment. Axl was right, though; it still felt like there were less than there should have been, and both of them wondered, silently, if Ren had something to do with that, in the event he was lingering.

Eventually, their torches cast light on unfamiliar forms. Faint, glowing shapes in the darkness were revealed to be a combination of not only more veins of demonite, but ominous structures with teeth-like protrusions jutting up, like yearning jaws. Some of them were indented on top, filled with vile, tar-esque fluid, while others seemed flatter. It was difficult to determine if they were ‘natural’ formations, or constructed… and if the latter, by who? Or what?

“...I don’t like this. They… look a bit like... altars?” Axl shuddered, then growled, face scrunching as he reached for his scroll. “I feel like we… we should destroy these.”

Aura held up a hand, expression severe and somewhat worried, “No… Not yet.” Her train of thought was interrupted as her slime companion spotted another eater, leaping at it and missing. She quickly drew an arrow and shot it down to let her companion finish it off, before turning back to Axl, “We should check everything first.”

Axl shuddered against the urge to bring something heavy down on those abominable structures, but eventually shook the notion from his head, like nagging cobwebs, as they continued to dust the ground with powder, digging up more of the large, shadowy pearls. Like the pearls, the ‘altars’ were conspicuously unaffected by the powder.

As they reached the end of the trench, they were met with a surprising sight.

Axl’s eyes widened a little, “Huh… I guess Ren beat us to it.”

Before them were two large pits, the jagged edges of ebonstone looking like they’d been blasted out with some kind of heavy explosive charge. Those pits revealed divots much like the ones they’d been digging up, but both were devoid of any trace of shadowy orbs. Only a lingering queasiness remained.

To make matters more eerie, a single altar stood within what appeared to be the blast radius of one of the explosions. Or, rather hovered in place where the ground had once been below it. The altar was unscathed.

“Well, that rules out destroying those things,” Aura mumbled, kneeling by one of the blast holes to look for any orb remnants, “I guess he was talking about the orbs after all…” She stood up again, pondering, “Hm… without counting these two, I counted seven. Not sure if that means anything.”

“Me neither, but hey, look at this.” Axl gestured, backtracking to their most recently unearthed pearl, “This one’s different.”

Indeed, this last pearl was significantly smaller than the others, perhaps the size of a bowling ball versus the larger, beach-ball sized spheres, and in a much tighter, shallower pit. As they went, Axl had tapped a few more to check, and they all sounded hollow, if with varying tones indicating thickness. When he tapped this one, it felt much more solid.

“Interesting… it does feel a lot more like a pearl,” He looked around, then down at his scroll. Putting it away, he turned back to the orb, “I wonder if we can examine it at home..,” he took a deep breath and reached down, clasping both hands around the artifact, clear intent in his eyes.

Aura paled as she reached out to stop him, “Wait, don’t-”

It was too late. Axl gave the pearl a short tug, and a sharp, screeching ring resounded off the cavern walls as it broke from whatever force was keeping it locked in place. Almost immediately, the ground began to rumble, with increasing intensity.

Aura nearly fell over from the shaking, grabbing her bow and scrambling away from the hole, shrieking, “OH MY GODS, WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

“W-what!” Axl snapped back, sounding just as panicked, “He only mentioned breaking! I didn’t break-!” He was interrupted by the source of the rumbling, and his jaw dropped, as did the orb he was holding as he let it go to grab his sword. It didn’t fall with any weight, instead floating gently to the ground.

Nobody noticed. They were too busy staring at the giant worm that had burst from the ebonstone wall as if it were little more than cobble, dwarfing any other creature they’d seen so far. It roared and charged at them, forcing both to leap out of the way as it crashed into the floor between them in an explosion of purified stone. As it continued into the new hole it was digging, it didn’t seem to end.

Aura’s slime companion was the first to action, fearlessly leaping at the worm as it passed by, striking it repeatedly in the side and occasionally dislodging a tiny bit of rotting flesh, but not doing significant harm. Aura, meanwhile, withdrew the arrows she’d been saving, crouching to keep her footing as she aimed them at the giant worm, not that it would be difficult to hit.

Every magic arrow that left the demon bow burst into an ironic fireworks display of light, vanishing into the creature and the stone alike, leaving char marks in the twitching dead flesh. However, it didn’t seem to have much more of an effect on something that was woven together from rotting meat and malice; it was impossible to tell if the roaring was the creature reacting in pain, or just the tough stone giving way before it, shaking the caverns.

Worse yet, the bursts of light were leaving nothing to retrieve for reuse if they were having an effect.

“I don’t know they’re doing anything!” Aura tried to shout over the near-deafening noise. She eyed the creature’s movement for a moment, and watched as Axl struck at it in quick jabs with his inadequately-sized demonite sword when an idea clicked, “Do you still have the spear!?”

Axl gave her an incredulous look, reaching for his scroll. It wasn’t a weapon he used often as it had no special properties aside being slightly longer-ranged than his preferred swords. His eyes darted about wildly to see where the monster would emerge from next, “Yeah, but what good will that do?!”

The massive eater burst from the ceiling and towards Axl, who yelped and leapt out of the way. Aura cringed, yelling, “If we can lodge it through the worm’s body it might get stuck as it burrows into this tough rock!” She readied another volley of arrows, “Maybe it’ll even tear the worm in half!”

“Will that work!?” Axl shouted back, finally getting the embarrassingly plain if functional weapon out of his bag, “Won’t the spear break first!?”

“I don’t know!” Aura sighed loudly, frustration in her voice, “but I don’t see you coming up with any ideas!”

Axl grunted as he pushed his glasses up and braced himself, holding the spear in both hands, point down. As the worm emerged from yet another wall, he sidestepped, raising the weapon above his head and keeping a close watch at the monster’s passing features. Then, with as much strength as he could muster and a battle-cry to match, he brought the point down on one of the creature’s large, putrid eyes. It burst into disgusting green ooze as the spear went right through, exiting the creature’s ventral side. Axl tumbled to the ground with a crash and a pained groan as he clutched his shoulders, having released the weapon quickly lest he be dragged along for the ride, but not quickly enough.

As Aura had expected, as the segment with the lodged spear reached the wall the worm was burrowing into, the spear itself wedged against the corrupted rock. The creature jolted to a halt for a mere second before the momentum hit, tearing the worm into two pieces. The front end disappeared into the tunnel it dug, while the part behind the spear flopped to the ground.

Standing up with a faint wobble, Axl took a deep breath, arms aching, “D-did it work-?” Not taking this moment of respite for granted, he reached into his bag for a potion.

He spoke to soon. Just as he began to drink, the gory stump shuddered, shook, and shed chunks of itself to the ground, revealing another head, which gurgled and hissed at Axl for daring to split it, causing him to spit half the healing tonic in shock. As it did, the front end burst from the wall, and with it, the awful realization.

“HooOOOOOH GOD, THAT JUST MADE TWO OF THEM,” Axl yowled, wincing as he threw the bottle to the ground and drew his sword again, scrambling out of the way in a panic.

Aura cursed to herself, backing up, “O-okay so maybe it wasn’t a good idea! But maybe it’s progress?”

Axl forced a wry smirk, giving a half-hearted thumbs-up, “Yeah, at least we’re getting wormer!”

Aura twitched as she nocked another arrow, switching over to more solid and substantial demonite arrows, “OH SHUT UP!”

“You’re BOTH idiots!”

They whirled to see the large form of Ren emerging from the tunnel’s shadow, looking furious, “Why couldn’t you kids leave well enough alone?!”

“H-hey, nice to see you, too!” Axl managed to stammer out in his surprise. He pointed at the worm passing by behind him, “A little help!?”

The large man growled, holding an arm out to his side, palm up, “I suppose I’m left no choice, am I?”

Axl stared at him, wondering what the strange man had up his sleeve, but was snapped out of it by Aura crying out, “AXL, PAY ATTEN-”

He whirled just in time to see the massive mandibles and clicking teeth of the giant worm hit him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. He didn’t even have the time to express his shock.

However, before the worm could drive its way back into the ground - and likely grind the adventurer to a bloody paste through the stone in the process - Ren thrust his hand forward and an ephemeral tendril covered in vicious thorns lashed out from his wrist. Instead of piercing the worm’s rotting hide, it wrapped around the frontmost ‘head’ of the monstrosity, barbs digging in, flaying off the flesh burned by Aura’s arrows. He withdrew his arm, the vine fading away, before lashing out with another, and another. The worm reeled in some semblance of agony as its head separated, the rest of it turning to flee into the stone, leaving Axl in the jaws of a much smaller and significantly less powerful chunk.

The daze finally out of his system, Axl brought his sword down on the creature’s eye, impaling it through. It spasmed, then fell to the ground as he coughed, regaining breath. He put a hand over his abdomen, where some of the teeth had punctured the flexible mail, “D-damn it.”

Aura rushed over, nearly tripping over her slime, but Ren made a sharp ‘cut off’ motion with his hand, gesturing towards the worm and glaring daggers as it split once again under his onslaught of shadowy thorns, now three large pieces, “Walk it off, kid, this ain’t over!”

Indeed it wasn’t, but at least it was going somewhere. Axl retrieved his spear where it had fallen from the splitting abomination. Now that they knew what to expect, it at least seemed like a consistent method of getting the creature into smaller pieces, especially since Ren apparently couldn’t keep up the use of those thorns forever, soon pulling out his musket to pick up the slack. It didn’t seem quite as effective.

The downside was that the smaller pieces were much more erratic. Even Aura, with her cloth-clad maneuverability, took a few hard hits, though perhaps not as hard as the others. Ren in particular, with his large frame and heavy armor, was even less able to dodge effectively, but he nevertheless shrugged off a majority of the glancing blows he took. Apparently that fancy armor of his wasn’t just for show.

With the three of them working together, the creature was soon reduced to immobile, writhing chunks, its vile green blood coating the dark walls.

Axl took a deep breath, coughing and slightly retching at the awful stench, falling back against a wall and sliding down to sit. Aura likewise took a seat, letting her bow clatter to the ground as she pulled up the thick collar of her jacket to cover her nose and mouth. Her pet slime chirped and bounded over, nuzzling up to her thigh and purring. She smiled slightly and placed a hand on it. Axl rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he mumbled something incoherent.

Ren, however, did not sit. He turned to walk away, glowering. Axl blinked and hoarsely called over, “H-hey, where are you going?”

“Going to survey the damage you’ve done by waking that thing up,” the older man rumbled, “I’m not about to let your curiosity ruin my hard work…”

“What hard-”

“SHHHH-” Aura hissed, cutting Axl off, “Just… leave it.”

Axl frowned, feeling guilty as he turned, cupping his hand to call out after Ren, “Hey! Thanks for your-” only to see that he’d already gone, “...help…” He sighed.

Everything was a mess. The already jagged trenches were now riddled with large holes in every which direction, giving the surrounding rock a very unstable feel. Axl sighed and tried to hold his breath as much as possible, closing his eyes and leaning back. After taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he glanced about. The glowing black pearl had rolled gently off into a puddle of tar near one of the altars during the commotion, its own faint light mingling with the light of the infernal furniture.

It wasn’t the only thing glowing. Amongst the strewn rot of the worm’s remains, scattered remnants of faint purple could be seen glimmering. Axl looked down at a chunk closer to him, digging his armored fingers into the disgusting glop to extract a strange, shiny scale. The queasiness left his expression...slightly.

“Well… I guess we found them,” He sighed again, giving a weak fistpump in the air and a mostly unenthused “whoo hoo.”

“Great. We can head home, then,” Aura puffed, sounding relieved as she stood up, “Let’s get as much of this stuff and head home.”

“Well, you can head home,” Axl took out another potion, taking a quick whiff of it to make sure he wasn’t going to vomit trying to drink it, “I’m going to check out some of the tunnels that worm dug,” Feeling it was safe to, he took a quick swig, then sighed, “See if we can find where it came from, or anything else that might be interesting.”

“Are you crazy?!” Aura interrupted her gathering to stare, in shock and mild horror, “This thing could have made quick work of us, and you want to find out where it came from!?” She held her hands up, fingers curled as if trying to grasp the insane notion, “What are you hoping to find, a nest of giant killer worms?!”

When she put it that way, it sounded pretty bad, and Axl rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, “Well… probably not. But if I do, at least we’ll know what we’re up against.” He coughed, then used his sword to help him stand up as he joined in collecting scales and fragments of glowing ore, “Anyway, aren’t you curious where something that big’s been hiding this whole time?”

Aura froze in place, closing her eyes. She turned to look at one of the holes, leading into shadows past the until-then-unbreakable rock, “I mean…”

“Again, you don’t have to,” Axl shrugged, pocketing the last of the scales he could find before examining the tunnels, trying to remember which one the worm emerged from first. He bit his lip, crouching into one of the larger ones. Torchlight revealed it to not end prematurely in a loop back. Lucky guess. He turned back to Aura, “If I die, I’ll let you know you were right.” He frowned slightly. It would be a claustrophobic trek, for sure; it wasn’t nearly tall enough to enter standing, though at least it didn’t require crawling on all fours.

Letting out a frustrated growl, Aura took out her scroll and extracted her mirror. She was about to look into it when she saw Axl disappear into the tunnel out of the corner of her eye. After spending a few moments in the eerie silence, she slowly lowered her hand, clenched her teeth, then put the mirror away, following after him, “Okay, fine.”

Hearing the padded footsteps behind him Axl turned, “So you changed your mind?”

As she caught up, Aura pinned him with a resentful scowl, “I want to see the look on your face when you realize this is stupid, and then I’ll mirror back.”

Axl chuckled to himself, “Deal.”

The trip began most uninterestingly, with the only thing of note being the gradual shift from corrupted rock to natural stone the further from the trenches they got. A creeping apprehension of what they’d find at the end filled their minds, and nearly clouded them to a baffling discovery. The only thing keeping their minds on their task were their differing footsteps, and the wet plap plap plap of Aura’s pet slime.

As they crept along, Aura was the first to notice that the worm’s tunnel had intersected with a fabricated structure. She grabbed Axl’s wrist to stop him, eliciting a surprised shout as he whirled around to see her pointing.

Two layers of simple but very even stone bricks could be seen, rasped against by the worm’s body. One of the bricks had fallen through, revealing some kind of opening on the other side.

“What is this?” Aura crouched low to attempt peering through the hole. She couldn’t make out much.

“Beats me…” Axl crouched alongside her, “...though I bet Ren has something to do with it? He did mention that monster possibly damaging something he was working on…”

“Huh… Should we just… leave it?” Aura asked, furrowing her brow.

“On one hand, I don’t really want to mess with something he might get mad at us over..,” Axl shook his head… then smiled wryly, taking out his pick, “...but it’s not like he isn’t already pissed off at us.”

Aura turned to him, with incrementally increasing incredulity, “Are you serious?”

“Sure. I mean, worse comes to worse, we can just say the worm damaged it more than it did.”

The worm’s damage was certainly a factor, as it only took a single swing of the pick to cave enough brick for them to enter, though not before looking inside and seeing what amounted to little more than a well-like tube of brick, lined with the occasional inset torch, with a single chain suspended in the middle. Carefully leaning in, Aura looked down, then up. She could barely see a ‘top’ where the chain was attached to plain stone, and there was no bottom in sight.

“Holy…” she muttered. Axl leaned over, as well, whistling.

“Yep, I’d say that’s a pretty big holy,” Axl smirked. Aura elbowed him. He tried to stifle a self-amused laugh, “So, wanna follow it?”

Aura arched an eyebrow, “You giving up on the worm already?”

“Weeell, I think this is a little more interesting,” Axl shrugged, with a lopsided, questioning smile.

“Your opinions of what’s interesting worry me.”

“Again,” Axl reminded her, taking hold of the chain, “you don’t have to follow, yet here you are.”

“Whatever. Let’s just go.”

The tunnel down almost felt infinite. The longer they went without seeing a bottom, the more they began to wonder just what kind of terrible idea this was. To make matters worse, the air was gradually getting hotter around them.

“For the love of Ra this had better not be some kind of volcano vent that’s going to burn us to a crisp,” Aura muttered, loosening her collar and fanning herself with her hat.

“If it was, why would it have a chain? This seems like it was meant to be traveled… the question is, for what purpose?” he looked back up at the dwindling line of lights, “It feels like some kind of elevator, but there haven’t been any doors along the way leading anywhere… so the bottom must be the destination.”

Aura contemplated that for a second, then deadpanned, “If so, why was there no opening on the top?”

The question caused Axl to stop abruptly, causing Aura to nearly land on him as he scratched his head, “...That’s a very good question. Maybe… hidden doors?”

“...Oh gods, I really don’t think we should-” Aura shuddered, resisting the urge to kick her traveling partner in the head. She didn’t have to, as her grumbling was cut short by a panicked yowl as Axl, not paying attention, ran out of chain. However, there was a muffled splash at the bottom, followed by equally muffled cursing and much flailing, implying the fall was either not that far, or the water at the bottom broke it, as little sense as that made. Nevertheless, Aura wasn’t willing to risk it, instead using her own grappling hook to descend the rest of the way once the chain ended.

“Nice job,” she smirked as she descended, avoiding the water. The end of the vertical tunnel was a fairly well-lit room, with a stairwell down into another cavern lit with an eerie orange light. Aura gingerly skirted the edge towards the opening.

“What the Hell is this?” Axl sputtered as he stepped out of the pool of fairly hot water using the stairs built into its side, “It’s not a well, but why is it here?”

Aura stopped dead in her tracks near the bottom, eyes going wide. Her voice suddenly began to shake, “...A-Are you really sure you should be saying that?”

“...Huh?” The sudden change of mood and circumstance gave Axl pause as he descended the steps to stand next to her, looking at whatever it was she saw. His jaw dropped.

The cavern was enormous, so large that it could have been mistaken for an entirely new world. Far below, roiling lakes and rivers of molten rock cut through plateaus of ash and fiery stone. Massive pillars connected the stalactite-laden ceiling they were viewing from to the pit of death as embers drifted lazily through the air. Air which was almost unbearably hot. Emerging from the ash and lava were structures made from brick, both pitch black and glowing-hot.

Axl definitely felt the heat of the air, taking off his helmet and stowing it for the time being, “So this is what he meant...”

Aura, likewise, took her hat, but once again used it to fan herself before putting it back on, “What?”

“When I got here, I told that creep to go to Hell, and he said “you’ll know when you get there” or something like that,” Axl got down on his knees and peered over the edge, looking to see if there was a way down, “I knew nothing then, so I thought he was mocking me and telling me I was certain to die… but I guess this shouldn’t be a surprise.” He turned to Aura, who looked grim.

She looked over at her slime companion, which seemed very upset by the heat. It barely had the energy to hop. She picked it up, worried, and held it close, “...Let’s get out of here.”

“No, I’m gonna grab something first,” Axl swung his legs off the ledge, grabbing his hook and attaching it. There was a building not so far from them, and with some clever maneuvering he figured he could grapple his way over to it without shattering his shins, “Something to show we were here.”

“...Fine! Suit your idiot self!” Aura snapped and growled, whirling around, suddenly furious. All of this time, she’d let herself be led around by this fool, and she couldn’t start to imagine why. Did she want to see him fail? She couldn’t stand watching him die whenever it came to that, but at the same time, she couldn’t just leave him. Almost as if that made her a worse person. She hated feeling so guilty about someone so impulsive and-

A shout of surprise pulled Aura back into the present, and she turned to see a twisted, horned figure descend upon Axl with leathery wings. The demon screeched something in a language neither recognized, before making a gesture with its hand. A set of glowing purple blades manifested around it, before launching down towards the gold-armored trespasser.

Axl quickly slapped his helmet back on and drew his sword, but the demon was flying too high for it to be any use. He dodged the first spinning scythe, but the staggered launch of the others caught him by surprise, just as one of the blades caught him in the right shoulder, and the other across his left thigh, ripping through his plate armor like butter. He howled and stumbled.

‘Let him die’ was Aura’s first thought. ‘He godsdamned deserves it.’ But as quickly as that thought entered her head, she shook it away. Was she really going to be that horrible? She reached for her scroll, using the staff she’d found to stow her slimy pet with the rest of her effects, before pulling out her bow.

“Leave him alone!” she shouted as she drew back the string. The demon whirled to look at her just as she let the arrow fly, and it hit true, piercing the wrist of its left wing. The demon faltered in the air, cursing at her in its tongue as it plummeted to the rooftop. Axl cringed at the gash in his thigh but managed to limp with urgency, making his way to the demon. Too shocked by its fall to react, it made one ineffective slash before Axl drove his sword between its two eyes. It went limp, falling to the black brick as deep purple blood oozed, flowing off the rooftop to sizzle in the lava below.

As Aura landed beside him, Axl sighed guiltily, “You… didn’t have to.” He cleared his throat, “I mean… thank you.” Aura was somewhat shocked at the honest-sounding response, holding her breath and expecting some joke. When one didn’t come, she looked away.

Far above them, a voice shouted down, “When will you learn?”

Now that voice was familiar. Far above, they could see Ren standing in the entryway to the pipe. It was hard to make out his expression at that distance, but they could have hazarded a guess.

Axl looked up, starting to feel a bit annoyed with the big guy’s constantly tailing them just to tell them off, “You know, I almost feel like you’re stalking us now.”

“Well, you’re kind of getting up in my business. But this,” the large man gestured to the entire hellish scenery around them, then looked down at the younger adventurers, “This isn’t about me. This is about telling you-,” he pointed, for emphasis, “-that what’s down here is so out of your league that even I’m not strong enough to save you from the horror you’re going to find.”

Axl just stared with a bewildered expression before gesturing at the demon they’d just killed, looking down at it, then back up at Ren, throwing his arms up before putting them on his hips, “Then why did you make a tunnel leading here?!”

The large man’s clenched his teeth, looking down, withdrawing into the shadows slightly, “...Because one day, I will be.” His glare nearly pierced the darkness as he eyed the other two adventurers. “Now scram!” He barked, before vanishing into the tunnel, with perhaps more urgency than Axl or Aura would have expected of him.

That alone put them on edge.

“Okay, yeah, we’re going, now!” Aura pulled out her mirror, “And don’t you dare-”

“Yep, even I can agree with th- huh?” Axl was very ready to get out his mirror when he noticed that the demon, curled up on the ground, had something clutched in the claws of the other hand it hadn’t struck out with. He kicked the demon over, reaching down and pulling the object in question from the monster’s grip.

It was a doll.

Specifically, it was a doll very much resembling the know-it-all guide back at the town. It was a little ratty, with burlap skin, button eyes, and a comically stitched mouth, as well as a very large pin through its chest. It could have been anyone, but the sheer degree of its off putting plainness couldn’t possibly have been anyone else.

“Heh, even demons in Hell don’t like that guy. What a piece of work,” Axl chuckled dryly as he shook his head, turning the doll over in his hands. Aura stared at him, shaking her mirror frantically, “Yeah, yeah, I got you,” he shrugged, idly tossing the doll off the side of the building, “Even I know when it’s time to-”

There was no way a roar could have sounded so loudly in a cavern so large. The very air shook as the lava below, already bubbling, began to churn and spit violently as… something… peeled its way out of the darkness. Aura’s flailing of her mirror stopped so suddenly in her horrified shock that she lost her grip of it, sending it careening off the side of the building into the lava. She screamed, but not at the loss of her valuable way out.

She screamed at the gigantic wall of writhing, pulsing, flowing flesh that filled the impossibly large cavern. A hundred eyes fixed on the hapless humans as a hundred gaping maws snapped and smacked, razor-sharp teeth glinting in the underworld’s light. Even more maws bubbled off its surface, reaching towards them on veiny structures, before drawing back into the mass, only to reform endlessly.

It shouldn’t have been able to move, yet it was approaching, its form melting and flowing around the buildings. Soon, it would be upon the tunnel that led them there.

Aura was frozen in terror, tears in her eyes at the sight, but was snapped out of it by Axl shaking her shoulders. “G-get out of here!” he shouted, pulling his own mirror from his scroll and shoving it into Aura’s hands and closing her fingers around it, “I-I’m going to try to get back to the tube!”

“It’s too fast, you can’t-!” Aura tried to stop him, but before she could, he’d launched his hook upward and began to ascend.

He nearly made it. He would have, had one of the mouths on the advancing gore not shot out an impossibly long tongue, wrapping around the ankle on his injured leg and pulling. He screamed in pain as the chain pulled tight, straining his arms.

With what strength he could muster, he wrapped the chain around one arm to stabilize it as he reached for his sword to sever the tongue. It was a good idea, but the creature was far more prepared. The smaller, yearning, hungry mouths swarmed him, clamping down wherever they could find a hold on his armor,

“No noNO NO NO-!” he flailed, bringing the sword down before he could be pulled into the mouth. It was too late. A sickening crack indicated he no longer had an arm at the elbow, left to dangle on the chain as he was pulled, screaming, into the gaping maw and the unnatural darkness behind those teeth.

The jaws closed, and the screaming stopped.

With no hope left in all the world, Aura choked on her mortified tears and gazed into the mirror…

All she saw in the glass was solid red as she vanished.

#the wall of text has awoken #as well as...#terraria #long post #fell story #8)#this was fun to write #and by fun i mean the dwarf fortress definition

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movietvtechgeeks · 7 years

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Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/bella-hadid-insists-no-feud-rob-kardashian-sues-blac-chyna-now/

Bella Hadid insists no feud and Rob Kardashian sues Blac Chyna now

When you’re a female in the spotlight, it is not uncommon to be pitted up against your fellow female celebrity peers. Whether it’s the tabloids or people on social media, celebrity women are constantly being accused of feuding with one another, whether it is true or not. Inevitably, you can imagine supermodel Bella Hadid has dealt with her fair share or female feud rumors, including some involving her older sister Gigi Hadid. Both Bella and Gigi have established themselves in the modeling industry in their own ways. However, that has not stopped people from pitting them up against each other. In the October issue of Harper’s Bazaar Arabia, Bella opened up about working in the same [inherently competitive] industry as her sister. Fortunately, she told the publication that she has never felt that she was competing with Gigi. The 20-year-old model explained, “Most of the time our markets are completely different and if we get booked on a job and she gets it or I get it, we’re both happy for each other. There are enough jobs in the world for both of us. There’s no reason for us to be mad at each other or competitive. So if she gets it, then good for her.” Later in the interview, Bella also talked about the importance of using her platform for good. The young starlet gushed, “If I can’t talk about something that I’m passionate about, why even be here? Why even do any of the stuff that I’m doing if I can’t make a better purpose for the world, or make a difference, or try to put light on a situation that is obviously so dark? It’s all really scary…If I’m able to change something in the world for the better, then I’ll be ecstatic.” For the past few years, Bella has been helping her mother Yolanda spread awareness for Lyme’s disease. Bella, Yolanda, as well as Bella’s younger brother Anwar have all been diagnosed with the condition. The Kardashian clan has certainly had a busy week. Now, on top of all the pregnancy rumors, reality star (and the sole male member of the Kardashian siblings) Rob Kardashian is reportedly suing his baby mom Blac Chyna. According to brand new reports, Rob is looking to recover damages, accusing Chyna of assault, battery and vandalism. The details of Rob’s court case were uncovered by TMZ, who obtained the documents. More specifically, Rob’s latest legal filings against Chyna claim that she tried to choke him with an iPhone charging cable, as well as hit him in the head and face during a violent fight back in December of 2016. In terms of the vandalism, Rob said that Chyna completely trashed the house that they were previously living in, which they happened to be renting from Rob’s little sister Kylie. The documents claim that Chyna caused over $100,000 in damages to the home. Crazily enough, the accusations against Chyna didn’t stop there. Rob went on to detail an incident in which Chyna supposedly threw a chair at his car and hit him with a metal rod. Rob writes in the legal documents that this particular situation played a pivotal role in the cancellation of his reality show (with her), Rob & Chyna. At this point, neither Rob nor Chyna have commented any further on the allegations made within the newly filed legal documents. Fans of Hollywood glamour have snapped up mementoes from the collection of the late Audrey Hepburn at a London auction. The star’s personal shooting script for “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” sold for 632,750 pounds ($846,619) at Christie’s on Wednesday — seven times its pre-sale estimate and one of many lots that smashed expectations. A Tiffany bangle that was a gift to Hepburn from director Steven Spielberg — inscribed “you are my ‘inspiration’” — sold for 332,750 pounds. Hepburn’s wardrobe proved a big draw, with a bidder paying 68,750 pounds for a Burberry trench coat. A black satin Givenchy cocktail gown worn during the 1963 film “Charade” sold for 68,750 pounds. A satin sleep mask which had been expected to fetch up to 150 pounds sold for 6,250 pounds. Christie’s said Thursday that the sale fetched a total of 4.6 million pounds ($6.2 million), seven times the pre-sale estimate. The chic star of “Roman Holiday,” ″My Fair Lady” and “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” died in 1993 aged 63. Hepburn’s sons are selling about 500 items through live and online sales at Christie’s. The online sale runs to Oct. 4. U.S. rapper Macklemore is wading into Australia’s gay-marriage debate by vowing to sing his marriage equality anthem “Same Love” during a weekend rugby final. Benjamin Haggerty, whose stage name is Macklemore, will be headlining the pre-game entertainment in Sydney on Sunday at the National Rugby League Grand Final, the Australian version of the Super Bowl. But with the nation in the midst of a two-month postal ballot to gauge public opinion toward legalizing gay marriage, some opponents of change want “Same Love” censored. Macklemore told Los Angeles Radio KPWR before flying to Sydney on Thursday that he was aware of the controversy but would not change his song list. “It’s interesting actually because I’m playing ‘Same Love’, and they’re going through right now trying to legalize same-sex marriage in Australia, so I’m getting a lot of tweets from angry, old white dudes in Australia,” Macklemore said. “I think there was a petition today to ban me from playing,” he added. “I’m gonna go harder.” Some senior government figures who oppose gay marriage and other high-profile rugby fans accused the league of politicizing the game. League chief executive Todd Greenberg said his organization had to take a position on same-sex marriage as part of its diversity policy. “I think it is one of the bravest and best decisions we have made for pre-match entertainment, but people will be the judge of that on Sunday,” Greenberg told reporters. Former Prime Minister Tony Abbott, a gay marriage opponent who determined two years that his government should ask the Australian public to decide the issue, tweeted on Wednesday that rugby fans “shouldn’t be subjected to a politicized grand final. Sport is sport.” “Everyone has a right to express their opinion. The opinion that I expressed yesterday was that the NRL had made a poor call in doing what they did,” Abbott told reporters on Thursday Attorney-General George Brandis, who supports gay marriage, supported Macklemore’s performance of “Same Love” in a stadium filled with 85,000 people and to be broadcast nationally. “It is one of his most popular songs, and for Mr. Abbott or anyone else to say that it should be banned, I think is a bizarre thing to say,” Brandis told Australian Broadcasting Corp. “I thought Mr. Abbott believed in freedom of speech.” More than 16 million Australians have been asked in a postal ballot whether they think the law should be changed to allow same-sex marriage. The result will be announced Nov. 15. If a majority of mail-in responses support marriage equality, Parliament will consider a bill to legalize gay marriage within a month. Some lawmakers have said they will vote down a same-sex marriage bill regardless of public opinion. Debra Messing has been told to “cut it out” by NBC bosses after she bad-mouthed fellow NBC star Megyn Kelly after appearing on her show. The “Will & Grace” star was so put off by Kelly’s question to an audience member — “Is it true that you became a lawyer, and you became gay, because of Will? . . . I don’t know about the lawyer thing, but I think that ‘Will & Grace’ thing and the gay thing is going to work out great” — that Messing posted on Instagram, “Regret going on. Dismayed by her comments.” While NBC insiders defended Kelly’s comments as “tongue-in-cheek,” Messing got a stern warning. One exec told media outlets, “Debra was told to cut it out by someone high up in the NBC Entertainment division run by Bob Greenblatt, via her agent or publicist.” Messing’s rep declined to comment, but a source close to the actress said, “NBC has been nothing but supportive of Debra . . . No one asked us to do anything.” Kelly also got on the wrong side of Wednesday’s guest, Jane Fonda, who snapped when the host turned the topic to plastic surgery. “We really want to talk about that now?” a displeased Fonda shot back. NBC didn’t comment Wednesday night. The iconic residence the late Hugh Hefner called home since 1971 is about to undergo some serious changes. As media outlets previously reported, the Playboy Mansion was sold to Hefner’s neighbor Daren Metropoulos of Metropoulous & Co. for $100 million in August 2016. At the time, the condition of sale mandated Hefner would live out his days in the plush pad before any renovations would begin under Metropoulos’ eye. Under the agreement, Hefner also agreed to pay $1 million a year in rent. Hefner died Wednesday at 91. “The Playboy Mansion is one of the most iconic properties in the world and the crown jewel of Holmby Hills and the platinum triangle,” Metropoulos said at the time of the purchase. “For the last 45 years, Mr. Hefner has imbued the estate with a rich and storied legacy. The property’s heritage is not only that of a famous address; it is a true masterpiece in design, constructed by a noted architect for a family who played an important role in the development of Los Angeles in the early 20th Century.” Now that Hefner has passed away, the property will undergo a massive renovation and will be reconnected with a neighboring property creating a massive 7.3 acre compound in Holmby Hills. It will be a private residence for Metropoulous. “Hugh Hefner was a visionary in business, a giant in media and an iconic figure of pop culture whose legacy will leave a lasting impact. I was fortunate to know him as a neighbor and friend and I extend my deepest sympathies to his family,” Metropoulos told Page Six in a statement. He did not provide details as to when renovations will begin or how much time will be given to the Hefner family to remove valuables. Meghan McCain has officially joined “The View” in the conservative chair — and media outlets have been told that ABC is excited about snagging the outspoken daughter of Sen. John McCain — sparking Jedediah Bila’s announcement that she was leaving. Insiders hope that she’ll create some positive headlines for the show, instead of the regular reports about the revolving door of talent. McCain starts next month, joining Whoopi Goldberg, Sara Haines, Paula Faris, Sunny Hostin and Joy Behar. On Thursday, Serena Williams flaunted her athletic frame less than a month after giving birth to her first child. The captionless shot featured Williams, 36, posing in front of a mirror in a one-piece, with her enviable closet in full view. Williams and fiancé Alexis Ohanian, 34, welcomed daughter Alexis Olympia Ohanian Jr. on Sept. 1 in West Palm Beach, Fla., where she weighed in at 6 pounds, 14 ounces. The couple is set to wed later this year after getting engaged last December. She is expected to return to the tennis circuit next year. After five successful seasons, one of HGTV’s most-watched shows, “Fixer Upper,” is coming to an end. Chip and Joanna Gaines announced the news Tuesday, shocking some fans of the show. While the Gaineses promised they would continue renovating homes in Waco, Texas, the future for HGTV is less clear. “The end of ‘Fixer Upper’ is a very big deal for the network. HGTV is a channel that depends on blockbuster, talent-driven shows to drive audience for their lesser content, new content, magazine, furniture line and overall brand,” Rebecca Lavoie, host of the upcoming podcast “HGTV & Me,” told Fox News. “Before ‘Fixer Upper,’ ‘Property Brothers’ was probably the channel’s most valuable property, which is why the brothers are at the center of several spinoffs, but even that show has probably seen its peak, while ‘Fixer Upper’ is arguably very much on the upswing and there are no other shows that touch it in terms of quality, charm, and sheer watchability.” The last season of the show garnered over 3.19 million same-day viewers, according to Deadline.com, and was HGTV’s highest-rated program followed by “Flip or Flop,” leaving a gaping hole in the network’s programming. But not everyone agreed. Geoff Skinner, an LA-based TV producer, said it’s a wise move to end a series while it is still at the height of its popularity. “There is great honor and integrity in going out on a high note,” he argued. “I wish more shows would follow suit. ‘Fixer Upper’ has an outstanding team both in front of and behind the camera, and really great showrunners, and I’m sure they know what they’re doing.” As for the Gaineses, some predict they will go to a larger network and possibly try their hand at a less niche program, like a talk show. “Joanna and Chip Gaines have outgrown their original show. A lot has changed since ‘Fixer Upper’ first premiered in 2013. They’re now instantly recognizable celebrities, immensely likable, and a trusted brand name in home repair and interior design,” explained branding expert Scott Pinkser. “Just like Rachael Ray eventually outgrew the Food Network, the Gaineses are clearly ready for a platform that’s more visible than HGTV. In fact, the Rachael Ray business model of TV talk shows, magazines, endorsements and product lines might make a lot of sense.” The handy couple issued a statement on their official site on Tuesday, writing, “It is with both sadness and expectation that we share the news that Season 5 of ‘Fixer Upper’ will be our last. While we are confident that this is the right choice for us, it has for sure not been an easy one to come to terms with. Our family has grown up alongside yours, and we have felt you rooting us on from the other side of the screen. How bittersweet to say goodbye to the very thing that introduced us all in the first place.” The final season will begin in November. Liam Neeson‘s latest film takes viewers into the life of a key player in the Watergate scandal, and he says there are clear parallels between presidents then-and-now. Neeson plays the high-ranking FBI official who was a key source for Washington Post stories that helped lead to President Richard Nixon‘s downfall in “Mark Felt: The Man Who Brought Down the White House .” Felt was the No. 2 official at the FBI and his identity as the source known as Deep Throat was unknown until 2005. Neeson told media outlets that he sees similarities between Nixon’s distrust of critics and President Donald Trump‘s actions. “Nixon felt: let’s circle the wagons. Everybody was an enemy that wasn’t on his side. We’re certainly seeing that with President Twitter in Chief. If you’re not with me, you’re against me,” the actor told media outlets in a recent interview. Trump’s administration and several of the president’s allies are entangled in investigations into whether the billionaire’s campaign sought help from Russian operative during last year’s presidential campaign. Among those investigating is former FBI director Robert Mueller, who has been appointed a special counsel to investigate several facets of the campaign and Trump’s associates. Mueller was appointed in May to investigate potential coordination between Russia and the Trump campaign and his team has sought a broad batch of records and interviews with current and former White House officials. The exact scope of his investigation is unknown. Neeson said he expects Mueller’s probe will be successful. “I do think the truth is going to come out,” Neeson said. “I think it will be Robert Mueller. He’ll just keep chipping away.” “Mark Felt” is out in limited release on Friday. Firebrand Rep. Louie Gohmert (R-Texas) predates the Tea Party movement — but he likes the Gadsden flag and its “Don’t Tread on Me” motto. At a private meeting on Sunday at the Press Box on Second Avenue in Midtown, Gohmert, when presented with the yellow flag, wore it as a cape. The congressman said he has pleaded with President Trump to appoint a special counsel to “investigate the collusion between [Special Counsel Robert] Mueller, [former FBI director James] Comey and the Clintons.” Gohmert told the gathering, “Trump said, ‘Can I do that?’ and I told him, ‘You sure can, you’re the president!’”

Movie TV Tech Geeks News

#Bella Hadid #Blac Chyna #Debra Messing #Donald Trump #Featured #Gigi Hadid #Macklemore #Rob Kardashian #Serena Williams

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wildstormoralhistory · 7 years

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Director’s Cut Material #7- In Living Color

The following Director's Cut material is a very special one that I hope you all enjoy. Colorist Joseph M. Damon was kind enough to share his unique WildStorm journey that really shows what it was like to try and become a part of the WS group and see a dream realized. If you've been to some comic conventions, you might have seen him around as he usually assists Humberto Ramos out on the road.  Joseph and I connected after the manuscript was finalized so I was able to sneak in a couple of his quotes in the proper book but the more I tried to edit, the less I wanted to break up his story throughout the different chapters. So here it all is as one piece and my sincere thanks to Mr. Damon for sharing it.

Joseph M. Damon (Colorist): Outside of being the fanboy buying comic books at my local comic store in the Bay Area, I'd attend local comic shows, in particular Wonder Con (in Oakland at that time), SDCC and there was an Image convention in LA. This was circa 1993-1994. At the shows, WildStorm Fine Arts was a booth selling ashcans, color guides from Joe Chiodo, Iris prints, and original artwork. At that time [it] was run by Joe Mendoza (Whilce Portacio's brother in-law and [the] character Dozer was based on him in Wetworks), who was working as editor at Homage studios as well. I asked a ton of questions about color guides and the process behind them, what an iris print was (I purchased one of Travis' Burnout), drooled buckets over the original artwork from the books that were for sale as well (which of course led later to me buying original art). Joe gave me a smile and his card, which I still have, and I asked him about some of the artists. He gave me a second extension which was for the "The Pit" where at that time a lot of the new artists like J. Scott Campbell and Travis Charest sat. I stared at the card and within a week called in just to see what would happen. I got reception, asked for Joe and he's out of the office, asked to be transferred to the extension for the Pit. Not thinking I'd get anywhere, it rang and rang and then I heard a voice say "Pit", I asked to talk to Jeff Campbell, and they said hold on, and then I heard, "This is Jeff" and I just start telling him that I'm a big fan of Gen 13 and his work on The Art of Homage Studios book and hoped to meet him at a show and get his autograph and show him some of my work. Jeff said good luck and then before hanging up, I figure I'd gone this far, why not see where else I can take this... and asked for Travis Charest. Jeff said sure hold on and then passed the phone to Travis, we talked real briefly and hung up and I just sat in awe for a few minutes... and that was the moment where, sacking up and being assertive just made me feel ten feet tall talking to people whose names I saw in my favorite comics. Now I just needed to put in the work and find a way to work there. Around the same time I met colorist Brian Haberlin, talked with him on process and tools/applications used by the studio. I found out the best way to practice working on color guides to be like Joe Chiodo was to make larger copies of ashcan pages and color them. So I mimicked a lot of what I saw in Joe Chiodo's work with multiple light sources and shading, light direction. I had a good portion of guides from Gen 13 mini-series #1, WildC.A.T.S. #5 and thought I was ready, so I found out at that time Bill Kaplan was in charge of submissions. I met him at a show, told him my name and showed my samples and my work was critiqued and it was ripped apart. Bad approach, terrible color theory, bad lighting. I listened and then commented on referencing Joe Chiodo's work, and he just looked at me and said thanks for letting me see your work and keep trying. Shortly after I met Steve Oliff and some of his guys from IHOC (International House of Color which would soon form Olyoptics), showed my stuff and also looked at his stuff from Akira and early Image color guides. He was really supportive, told me what media to use if coloring by hand and looking to Photoshop as digital was where it was at. I had an Amiga 500 and used color applications like digipaint, so Jumping to a Mac with Photoshop 3.0 was the next step.

I actually tried out for WildStorm back in early '90s when the studio had a talent search. Really didn’t have too much experience, but enough to get a call to show up and take the test. Met early WildStorm FX members, took the test given by Alex Sinclair and noodled the hell out of it and didn’t even finish in the allotted time, so [I] didn’t get the job. Come years later, I became good friends with several WildStorm FX members, Ian Hannin, James Rochelle, Jeremy Cox, Laura Martin (Depuy then) and Ben Dimagmaliw and heard about Andy Hartnell’s coloring spot opening up since he was writing Danger Girl. Send in samples, get a call to come take the test, fly down from San Francisco to San Diego, take the test, don’t finish due to catching a flight back home but get the file saved to a zip disk. Come home finish the test, send the file back in the morning, and then get the call that if I want the position its mine. I was currently testing video games at SEGA of America. [I] gave notice and started at WildStorm after relocating to San Diego a month later. Day 1 at WildStorm, [I] get seated in the open area in “The Pit” facing Jim Lee’s office and to my left was Travis Charest & Tom McWeeney’s office… no pressure…breath right. Absolutely not, since my friend Ben Dimagmaliw had the Wizard magazine black and white picture of Jim Lee from the Top Ten and pinned it to the board in front of my desk…so now I had Jim staring at me. I kept it there to motivate [me] even when Jim would walk by and I was totally in awe…which I finally lost the fanboy-ness after four months. I still talked to Jeff Campbell, Scott Williams, Travis Charest and Rich Friend when they weren’t working to at least break the ice. Alex Sinclair and Nick Bell took me under their wings and showed me the essentials but soon after I got a lot of real tools to use as a colorist from my fellow colorists. I'd go in early to talk/watch day shift (Joel Benjamin, Tony Washington,etc) and at night talk with Justin Ponsor, Matt Millia, Eric Guerrero, etc., learning which artists like cut & grad or who liked airbrush, which books needed lots of color holds and knock outs and which books had none. Slow at first but was ramped up and rendering within a month and by the time I left, rendering two [pages] per day. But still, [I] was slow by comparison to others who could do three pages per day.

I was a huge fan of WildStorm's books as I picked [up] all the titles as they came out- from Wetworks, StormWatch, Gen 13 to WildC.A.T.S. WildStorm had the formula to take my money every month they came out with new books. From the first day I started, learning to flat books was the greatest thing ever. But that was the immediate glamour of working for Jim Lee. The first time I got to render a Gen 13 or Divine Right page was pretty cool, but while cool, you had a lot to do in a little time, so you turned into a machine to meet deadlines. Certain key items that I got to work on that stood out were Gary Larson’s “There’s a Hair in My Dirt”, coloring and art directing a ton of trading cards with David Baron, art directing Gen 12 issues with Eric Garcia and coloring Joe Madureira’s Wildcats #1 Grifter Variant was a highlight as I was not only a huge Grifter fan, but a fan of Joe’s work. WildStorm FX had a lot of artwork to get done each day. Comic Books, trading Cards, specialty items like posters, DVD inserts, Gamepro or PSM magazine covers, Flash animated teasers for upcoming new release launches like Travis Charest’s Wildcats volume 2, strategy guide walkthroughs, etc. We did a lot and it did change day to day. Sometimes you knew you were flatting four pages and rendering two pages. Sometimes you colored four trading cards. I was hired on for the nightshift and worked four to midnight or later to meet deadlines. So my hours were interesting to say the least. At the end of my first year at the studio, my son, Niko was born, so challenges of a newborn, and being alone in San Diego got to be very tough for my then wife, so she went back to the bay area to be with family. Even with weekend trips back to see my family, shortly after my year mark, I made arrangements to return back to the bay area and return to my family and work in the video game industry. So I of course placed my two weeks notice and left the studio but continued to freelance for off and on for a bit and continued to freelance for Image comics.

What made WildStorm amazing was the people. The whole family worked together to get work done each day. Every person in WildStorm had a key role and made that place great. So while you think you have Jim Lee in drawing WildC.A.T.S, Scott Williams inking a page, Alex Sinclair coloring another, you have the rest of the studio doing their daily tasks… and a studio filled with laughter, music, discussions of who the Chargers or Padres played the night before, what movie flopped, or what new appetizer was on the menu at Moon Doggies Grill…this was day in/day out WildStorm. What Jim had set up was incredible to work for and some of that disappeared when DC took over. The initial announcement to us was a full company outing, where we were all told of the sale of the company to DC and what was changing and what would stay the same. Initially for me, there was some heartbreak, simply for what the mission statement of Image Comics was and why the founding fathers did what they did. WildStorm was a huge part of why Image was so big in the '90s and now it was gone to an extent since Time Warner was now the boss, a conglomerate, where before it was one man, figuratively speaking. DC seemed very cool to work for. All hourly employees got a raise based on cost of living at that time, which was good, as it got me closer to what I was making prior in the bay area. Another benefit was employees now received comp copies every week of every DC item that shipped, be it a TPB, Hardcover, comics and sometimes toys/statues. Which when you’re 25 and a comic collector, is great. But for me it was close to the end.

The experience was, best said, as a once in a lifetime, when it came to being listed amongst the best of the best in Artists/Inkers/Writers/Colorists. Few are able to say that. Even with very tight deadlines, (Fedex daily by 5PM), and long hours to make sure that the next shift had all the work ready for them, working along side the best was just that, the best. Aside from taking the knowledge of tips and tricks that WildStorm taught you as part of WildStorm FX, the friendships that I still have with my co-workers. Some are that of a hey, or head nod, while others are huge hugs annually at various comic cons, or random chats and discussions on Facebook or on the phone. The biggest take-away I can comment on is hard work/work ethics, and keeping your name fresh and in the public eye every month- in Previews, in at least one book, a variant cover, an interview, whatever. Those that stay relevant are those that continue to work every month delivering content. If you step out or take a break from the industry, it takes you five times the amount of work to get back to where you were, as there are pencillers, inkers, and digital colorists ready to take your spot, for cheaper rates. I still moonlight in the comic industry as a Manager/Handler but that’s simply because I'm still a huge fan of comics and those that create them.

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charlesoberonn · 7 years

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Dr. Destiny #5

Lilac looked up into the darkening sky. The summer sun has gone below the horizon, leaving the world in shadow and darkness. This darkness was all the more obvious in the gloomy driveway of the even gloomier Lastegar Manor, the home of the talented necromancer Vena Destiny, Lilac’s sort-of girlfriend. The manor was old and had a heavy atmosphere to its blackened windows, old gardens, archaic architecture and the small forest in the enormous backyard, which Lilac suspected was older than the manor itself.

The red headed woman put on her jacket, a fancy and dainty lavender thing, as she approached the double doors. The wooden doors were old but sturdy, and their size was frightening.

The last time she was in this manor, she was under the control of a vicious wraith. This was the first time visiting Vena’s house as herself, she realized.

She looked for a doorbell, but she couldn’t find it, she raised her hand to knock on the door instead. Before her knuckles touched the wood, she heard a loud blunt sound coming the other side of the door. It took her a few seconds to realize the source of the loud knock was the blade of a large sword being lodged in the wood, its sharp point peeking through the other end.

Lilac shrieked and backed off immediately, a shudder in her step. She walked backwards a few more steps, and shrieked again as she nearly fell down the stairs leading up to the front door. She stared at the doorway frozen, her limbs refusing to obey her. It felt all too familiar.

With a slow and elongated creak, the doors opened, orange and purple and green light poured from them onto the grey cobblestone entryway. On the other side of the doorway stood a tall figure. Lilac’s eyes opened wide as she took in the frightening height of the figure which towered over 2 meters tall. She gasped when she realized it had no head.

The dance of colored lights was coming from behind the shadowy figure, a swirl of shapes and sparks. It looked very familiar. The headless figure jerked and shook around with each swirl of light that seemed to hit it directly in the chest. Lilac kept staring, motionless.

Eventually, the lights subsided, and the doorway was filled with the more natural light of florescent lightbulbs coming from the large entrance hall of the manor. The tall headless figure was revealed to be a suit of armour. It faced away from Lilac and she could see several bullet holes in its back, going all the way through the armour, which was hollow on the inside.

With a metallic creak, the armour fell backwards in a slow stiff movement, as though it was frozen in the last pose it took. A large booming sound emanated from the armour as it crashed into its individual plates upon hitting the floor. The armour pieces rolled around on the cobblestone for a bit before stopping. The armour’s left gauntlet ended up rolling right by of Lilac’s feet.

Behind the fallen armour, standing in the doorway, was a short woman with neon green light pouring out of her open palms. She was wearing faded jeans and a green button shirt. The left pant of her jeans was halfway tore across below the knee, and slumped down to her ankle.

“Hello, I’m glad you could make it!” Vena said as she stepped over the fallen armour pieces. She looked at her red-haired guest in the eyes. Lilac was still trembling a bit. Vena looked back at the door with the sword tip sticking out of it. “Glad I could make it too. That was intense.” she giggled, and then frowned as Lilac didn’t smile with her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect this to happen.” Dr. Destiny started picking up the pieces. “Just give me 5 minutes and I’ll be ready for dinner.”

She reached towards the gauntlet that fell by Lilac’s foot, but was stopped when Lilac leaned down and picked it up instead. She was smiling, and Vena smiled with her. As they walked through the door with the armour pieces in hand, Dr. Destiny snuck in a sigh of relief.

After the armour was piled up by the doorway inside with its sword still lodged in the wooden door, the two women left the entrance hall and walked towards the dining room. It was a large room, befitting of a mansion of such proportions, but most of it was dark.

“I’m sorry about this. I tried to organize it to the best of my ability. I don’t exactly have the entire room furnished.” Vena led Lilac towards the corner of a large table. Only part of which was clean and covered by a white tablecloth. Upon the cloth were two plates on opposite sides, and a variety of food items in plates, bowls and containers in between them. At the center between the plates was an old candelabra with three black candles on it, whose orange glow helped make up for the limited light in the room.

“There’s no need to feel sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry. There’s really no need for you to do all of this for me.” Lilac said, her voice a bit weak.

Vena quiet for a few long seconds before she spoke. “Are you okay?” she pulled Lilac’s chair back.

“Yeah.” Lilac sat down in front of her plate, which was old and withered with use, but still clean and pristine. Upon closer inspection of the table, some of the food items on it were clearly microwaved, and some of the containers were plastic.

Vena pulled back her own chair and sat down with a creak. She chuckled. “This chair is very old.” she joked.

“Yeah...” Lilac said as she inspected a pink salmon fillet from up close, poking it with her fork. “So...” she trailed off.

“Yeah...” Vena tapped her fork against the table, making tiny divots in the tablecloth as she did.

“I...” Lilac started talking, but was interrupted.

“I was doing it for us.” Vena said. “I’m sorry, I just thought...”

“No, I get it.”

“It’s not just for you, it’s for us... this thing between us. Whatever you call it.” Vena looked at her companion’s eyes lit up by the black candle.

“You like it, what we had, for the last few weeks?” Lilac’s pupils reflected the light which glimmered and flickered with the slight breeze coming in from the garden. It carried with it pleasant scents.

“A lot.”

“Why though?” Lilac asked. As she did, the wind put out one of the three black candles, leaving behind a trail of smoke and a blackened wick.

“Huh?”

“Why do you like me? I have brought you nothing but misery.”

“What are you talking about? The last weeks were wonderful. I enjoyed spending time with you. I haven’t spent so much time with anybody since well... not anybody alive, at least.” Vena forced a smile.

“Last week at the lake, I brought you into someplace dangerous.”

“You had no idea it would be visited by an Elder One. You didn’t even know they existed.”

“No, but I brought you there because I hoped maybe...”

“Maybe what?”

“And now tonight, I wanted to see you in your home because of the same hope. Or fear, or whatever...” Lilac averted her gate, not looking directly at Vena.

“I mean, I do have a big house.” Vena tried joking again. The two remaining candles grew brighter. “You’ve been here 1.5 times, you should know.

Lilac chuckled.

Vena smiled, leaning in. “Whatever it is you hoped to achieve, it succeeded. Because I want to stay with you. I want to be with you.”

“Yeah, I mean. About that... that first time in your house. In here.” Lilac looked at the hall outside of the dining room, which she knew lead to Dr. Destiny’s office. “When I entered.... when the Ink Baroness entered your office, I saw this look on your face.” Lilac explained.

“You were aware of that?” Dr. Destiny leaned back, her fingers intertwined.

“Barely. I could only notice what she noticed, and my thoughts were filled with her whispers and shit. But I did notice the look. Your face when you saw something. Something that could alleviate your boredom.”

“That’s...” Vena wanted to interrupt, but was interrupted herself.

“It’s okay, I understood. It was a long day and in comes a possessed woman who needs saving. I got that.” Lilac continued. “But on our date at the lake, I saw the same look when the thing showed up. Something interesting happening on a boring date.”

“No, Lilac...” Vena’s hand clenched a bit.

“I thought maybe that’s why you liked me.” Lilac said. “Because I’m a distraction, I make interesting stuff happen around you. That’s why I brought you over to the lake, and why I wanted to go to your house. I hoped things would pop up. And they did, and I saw the same look again.”

“You couldn’t have known that either.” Dr. Destiny finally managed to slip a word in. “I... listen. This look. It’s not that. This look isn’t excitement or relief. It’s worry. Elder Ones, and Wraiths, and Vengeful Spirits, they’re part of my daily routine. But usually I do it alone. And they pop up around me when I have nobody else. But now, I have you. And I’m worried about you.”

Lilac froze, a tear hung near her eye. “So when you first saw me at your office-”

“I was worried sick for you. I wanted to help you. Because well... because I like you. I like Lilac.”

Lilac sat still, quiet and full of thought. After a long and awkward silence, she sighed in relief. “Let’s eat.”

The two began putting on food on their table. Vena explained how she worked hard on each item on the table, from the salad to the fish she had to look up where to buy and how to cook. She conveniently opted not to talk about the microwaved fries and couscous or the clearly store-bought burgers.

“So, how was your day? I hope you didn’t have to face against Vengeful Spirits like I did.”

“I did have to pick them up from the floor of some kooky lady’s weird house.” Lilac responded and the two laughed out loud.

After a while, the conversation quieted down. Vena put her fork down. “You know the first thing I thought when I saw you?” she blushed, her voice trembling a bit as she tried to be romantic.

“How I can banish this creepy ghost from his hot girl’s body?” Lilac joked again with her mouth full of fries.

Vena chuckled. “Yeah, but no, I mean... The real you, when you woke up after I got rid of the Wraith. I really wanted to take you out for coffee.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“You know why?”

“Because you pitied me.” Lilac said, and with her words, another candle was put out. Only the middle out of the three candles remained.

“What?” Vena responded immediately and her blush went away.

“You saw a girl being used by an evil ghost and you saved her, and you did the right thing and helped her through it.” Lilac continued. “Like a firefighter giving somebody blankets.”

“Lilac, you’re being difficult tonight.” Vena frowned, her brow a bit furrowed. “I wanted us to have a nice evening and...”

“Well then, the salmon is a bit chewy in that case.”

“I...” Vena was left without words again. She puffed her cheeks, a bit angry. She took a deep breath and sighed. “Let’s settle this like adults.”

“This thing between us, you said you liked it.” Lilac said.

“I do. A lot.”

“Yeah, you said that already.”

“Because I mean it.

“But now I know you didn’t mean you liked me.”

“I do like you.”

“Yeah, but that came afterwards. First you like being the hero. Then you like the girl you saved. And you wanted to be her hero some more.”

“Is it wrong to want to protect those who you care about?!” Dr. Destiny lashed out. She stood up and froze. She took another deep breath and then sat down. “I’m sorry.”

“About what you said or about screaming it?”

“Both? I think.”

“I don’t think you understand what you said.”

“If it’s about being a hero, I know a lot more about it than you do, Lilac.” Dr. Destiny continued, her voice growing huskier, her stare growing distant. “And it’s not something I crave to do ever again.”

“It’s about being in a relationship. I thought the problem with the relationship was with me, that I wasn’t good enough for what was between us.”

“And I told you you are.”

“Yes...” Lilac trailed off, trying to find the words. “Thank you for that, I mean it. And I’m sorry I thought you pitied me, I know your feelings are more complicated than that. But it’s not you.”

“Are you seriously pulling that cliche? It’s not me it’s you?”

“It’s not me either...”

“Then what is it?” Vena became frustrated. None of them touched their food in a while.

“It’s this thing between us.” and as she said that, the thing between them was a knight’s sword.

Lilac screamed, and Dr. Destiny stared at the door to the hallway, where a peculiar object was approaching the two of them fast, it was a single left-handed gauntlet from a knight’s armour.

Without more than a meaningful stare, Vena and Lilac ducked under the table as gauntlet rushed towards them and struck the table. From below it they could see the tip of the sword cut through the table completely.

“Why is all of the wood in this house so sword-prone?” Lilac whispered.

Dr. Destiny ignored her, looking up at the gauntlet which was floating above them. “The tablecloth!” she yelled. “Now!”

Following her companion’s actions, Lilac grabbed a corner of the tablecloth from underneath and stepped out from under the table in unison with Dr. Destiny. In a coordinated move, they crossed paths behind the gauntlet which turned to face Lilac. With a strong pull, they tried the tablecloth around the gauntlet, pinning it to the table.

It squirmed and rustled inside of it, breaking container and spilling food as Lilac and Dr. Destiny stepped back. Lilac stared at the supernatural wriggling while De. Destiny was already preparing her magic, making her hands glow green.

“So, Vengeful Spirits, what are they?” Lilac asked with breathless words

“You were paying attention.”

“Of course, now speak.”

“When an object that isn’t supposed to have a soul suddenly gains one due to Necromancy, it is slowly imbued with magic. Magic that desires to stay alive. It’s similar to what our body uses to stay alive. But instead of life magic-” Dr. Destiny prepared her magic further, more complex circles and runes appeared on the back of her hands.

“It’s Necromancy.”

“Precisely. This suit of armour of was imbued with a spirit, a Phantom, for a very long time. A few weeks ago, before I met you, I sent that phantom back to the realm of the dead. But the magic remained in the armour, and it sought to regain the life I took from it, so it grew a soul.” Dr. Destiny finished her circles, she was approaching the wriggling tablecloth with arms raised.

“And that armour’s new soul resents you for taking its original phantom soul away?” Lilac

“That’s why they call them Vengeful.”

As Dr. Destiny approached the wriggling mass on the table, she suddenly had to jump out as something emerged out of the tablecloth with great force, tearing the knot down the middle.

The gauntlet emerged from the table, holding its sword and floating a meter and a half above the floor. It swung its sword around a few little spins, and purple light came out from below the wrist.

“Looks like I missed a spot earlier.” Dr. Destiny taunted the gauntlet, her hands still raised, but shaking. Lilac saw the same familiar look in her eyes.

The floating gauntlet raised its sword against Vena, about to slice her down with a quick and powerful slash. But mid-air, it was stopped by something. The sound of metal clashing against metal echoed through the old dining room.

Between Dr. Destiny and the gauntlet stood Lilac, holding in both of her shaking hands the candelabra with the three black candles. Which now held only two and a half candles, as the knight’s sword cut the rightmost candle in half. Despite all that, the middle candle remained lit.

“It’s a knight’s armour, right? Shouldn’t it be governed by the knights’ code?” Lilac said, feigning confidence she didn’t have.

“This is risky, Lilac. You don’t know how this thing works.” Dr. Destiny recoiled back.

Lilac pulled the candelabra back, and surprisingly, the knight’s gauntlet pulled its sword back as well.

“I am Vena Destiny’s champion. To get her, you would have to defeat me.” Lilac gulped nervously. She looked around, but the only viable weapon was the candelabra.

After a long and nervous minute, the gauntlet tilted forward and then back, as if to nod. And then, without much hesitation, it struck.

Though she screamed, Lilac raised the candelabra again above her hand and managed to block the strike, though with the loss of the rightmost candle, which was slice in half. The middle candle remained lit and whole.

With quick moves the knight’s gauntlet pulled its sword back and just as quickly struck down again, only for Lilac to block it again, this time with the side of the candle holder.

The battle went on for a few more strikes like that. Each time Lilac managed to block the gauntlet’s speedy swipes, she got better at it. And Dr. Destiny only got more nervous as she watched from the sidelines, not knowing what to make of it.

Lilac managed to block the tenth strike, and then the eleventh, but then she noticed something funny. Every time the sword struck between the candelabra’s arms, the gauntlet struggled a bit to pull it out. When the twelfth strike came, Lilac intentionally lodge the sword between two arms of the candelabra and then twisted them.

The gauntlet didn’t let go of the sword like she hoped, it was now stuck. It was a contest of strength between the two of them. Which was the one thing Lilac had on the faster and more skilful gauntlet. She was larger and heavier than it, and she had the support from the ground.

With ease, Lilac pulled the candelabra sideway and pulled the sword and the gauntlet with it. With all her force, she spun around, spinning the much lighter gauntlet in an arc. She spun thrice until she started feeling dizzy and then she suddenly stopped, letting all of the momentum travel onto the gauntlet, which was launched outwards, separated from its sword which landed somewhere else on the floor.

With the gauntlet nearly motionless on the floor, Dr. Destiny stepped over it, her glowing hand aimed towards it.

“Wait...” Lilac whispered, exhausted. “It lost, there’s no need to...” she dragged herself over to Vena.

“It’s a spirit bent on destroying me.”

“But it’s got a code. It’s got honor. It didn’t destroy you, it agreed to a duel. And it lost.” Lilac looked down at it. “Isn’t that right?”

Floating back up to knee height, much to Dr. Destiny’s dislike, the gauntlet nodded again.

Dr. Destiny still pointed her arm at it. But after a long thought, she put it down. “Head to my office, I’ll deal with you later.” She pointed towards the door. “Go, you know where it is.” she commanded and the gauntlet nodded again and did as instructed.

After the battle was won, Vena and Lilac sat down by the table again, though all of the food was destroyed and it had a giant hole inside of it. Lilac put the candelabra down, its last light still flickering.

“Vena...” she said.

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to be your girlfriend.” and with that, the last light died, leaving them both in darkness.

“I know.” Vena said, her head looking up. Her voice was quiet and her eyes teary.

“This thing between us. It’s not a good foundation for a relationship. It’s an imbalance. You got the power, the knowledge, you saved my life. And I owe you. But I can’t be in that kind of relationship with you if you’ll always look at me as a person under your protection, under your care. Even if it’s the most meaningful thing, you still view me as beneath you, without even realizing it.”

“I realize it now.” Vena said, her pained expression replaced with a more somber one.

“But you know, there is something good that can come out of that kind of dynamic.” Lilac smiled, but she didn’t blush.

Vena lowered her head and looked at Lilac questionably.

Lilac cleared her throat and looked at Dr. Destiny with a serious yet adorable determination on her face. “I want to be your apprentice.”

#writing #dr. destiny #charles writes #a story a day #except not really because I'm super late with writing these

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thehonorablejudgewhitey · 7 years

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“With Liberty and Justice for All”

(copious amounts of profanity ahead)

After the initial shock left me numb, then angry, then depressed, the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach took over and, funny enough, for a long time I was pissed off not because of what happened, but because it was allowed to happen. I wasn’t even furious with the key players anymore because they’re...well, real life versions of one dimensional characters, they did what they were supposed to do, what they would always do, what everyone knew for a fact they would do. I was mad at The People. The American People. Not at the - we’ll never really know how many - millions which were racist, misogynist, xenophobic, hateful and downright stupid enough to feel that donald was worth a genuine vote, but at the vast majority whom, between Clinton, 3rd party candidates, write -ins (and assorted silliness) didn’t vote for donald. Why was I so mad at these - mainly sane - folks? Because a majority let itself be ruled by a minority with, until recently, barely a peep in protest. Very few people took the fight as seriously as it needed to be taken and where we are today is a result of that.

Had this been a normal, fair election...it would be one thing, but it’s been clear since the start that things were far from an even remotely legitimate deal. The U.S. had bad Presidents before, it also had dumbass Presidents before, look at Bush Jr. who was as sharp as that kid in your nephew’s class who eats all the crayons; Jr., funny enough, found himself down in votes as well, but still “won”. However, and despite that - let’s call it - coincidental similarity, donald is frighteningly different from W. He’s not only ignorant and illiterate, he’s something Bush wasn’t: a vicious sociopath. donald isn’t just unbelievably stupid (and so very proud of his stupidity), he’s not just a loud clown, he is a fucking deranged monster and if you think I’m exaggerating, you haven’t researched him thoroughly enough because his track record will scare the shit out of anyone. The dude truly is criminally insane.

Now, donald supporters will argue till they’re blue in the face that non donald voters are sore losers, “libtards”, “snowflakes” and whatever else colorful little adjectives the not too bright amuse themselves with in order to have something with which to (try to) annoy others and thus, not having to confront their own stupidity. However, recently we’ve learned that not only has the corruption and treason which lead us to this situation been reliably and extensively documented, but also that American intelligence agencies had the information for months...and sat on it. The connections between donald’s minions and the shadiest shit imaginable has been established, foreign intelligence services have been frantically waving their arms in the air, begging US intelligence to, for fuck’s sake, look at their findings regarding very blatant treason...and yet, YET...here we are. Now the public knows all about it and the backlash has been until recently, pretty damn weak. Thankfully the public’s fighting morale picked up in a big way with the women's march, but it’s still a long way from effective. Plus the march was very rightfully so focused on specific topics, but what’s needed is an all out blitz of opposition and protest. For every - single - thing.

A lot contributed to donald’s - LOL - “victory”:

1) partisanship within the agencies (here’s looking at you, Comey)

2) the Russian meddling (through blackmail, money, influence, disinformation, paid trolls, and other endless etc’s)

3) vote tampering (took a shitload of lawyers and some serious bribe showers to keep that one on the low...seriously, look into it and your jaw will drop like an anvil on a road runner cartoon...but apparently, we’ll just ignore outright mathematical impossibilities and documented bribery because that’s the world we live in now)

4) voter suppression, critical in areas with large black communities because the overwhelming majority of black voters weren’t here for this fuckery - especially women, go Ladies, making us proud as always!

5) useless 3rd party voting despite the many, maaaaaaaany warnings not to engage in it because it was so DAMN clear what was gonna go down and people still did it cause stupid reasons no one cares about; how are you enjoying that skinny ass high horse now, fuckers???

6) the utterly shitty job by American news organizations who sucked donald’s lil dick dry for months in the name of ratings and which now are shocked, shocked I tell you!!! that the motherfucker turned on them...who could have possibly seen that one coming,unbelievable!!! And still, STILL they haven’t learned from it, they’re still airing donald’s mental diarrhea verbatim all - the - time, calling racist and xenophobic shit “controversial” and having lap dogs like Crack Barbie Conway talking about goddamn “alternative facts” on national television with a straight face!

7) the impotent and pathetic opposition put up by democrats, I mean seriously folks...some democrats voted in favor of donald’s cabinet members; have you learned nothing from 8 years of republican fuckery? Oppose ALL the things! If it wasn’t for Maxine Waters “fuck you AND this shit” attitude, Tim Kaine’s “I just think it’s funny how...” brand of shade and a few other good folks in there, we could just throw the whole damn party in the trash

8) republicans having been WHIPPED by donald’s cheap reality star popularity which was - sadly - more than enough to outshine the zodiac killer and whoever else they had lying around. Republicans had to drop to their knees for donald and, in exchange, they can pull off a U.S. fire sale like they’ve been aiming for for 8 years now. Make no mistake, there isn’t a terrorist organization in the world which can hold a candle to the American republican party, their business is death and destruction for profit and they excel at it

9) the “slow moving right wing coup” (Maher called it, just before the election), the almost decade long crusade of misinformation and public manipulation through garbage like fox news and breibart through puppets like hannity and kelly. donald’s fake shot at the Presidency would have been impossible without the massive groundwork that came long before he was even considered to be viable enough for this

10) the fact that a lot of folks adored donald’s catchy tune of hate and racism. trump voters didn’t vote for him despite this, they voted because his message was music to their ears. How an uncharismatic, orange, shar-pei looking motherfucker managed to establish a cult of personality would actually be impressive if it wasn’t terrifying.There’s no real “economic angst”, there was no “reaction against the status quo”, nobody wanted to drain no damn “swamp”, the “he tells it like it is” excuse is just that...everything which was used to justify donald’s popularity is utter BULLSHIT. donald got votes because a black Man was President, because women had valid sexual and reproductive health rights, because the LGBT community got basic rights recognized, because Islamophobia is a reality, because black folks were asking not to get killed for sitting and reading a book, or ringing a doorbell asking for help, or buying skittles

and of course, 11) the fact that trump made it totally cool to just go right for any pussy you fancy at any time, i.e. normalized sexual assault. If that doesn’t scream about the rampant engulfment of society in rape culture, I don’t know what does.

Yes, a lot helped donald get to where he is today, but the problem isn’t that this stuff happened, it’s that it was allowed to happen, the beginning of the shitstorm. It’s not like the asshole totally changed his tune overnight; everyone knew he was a risk and still, it was constantly underestimated. Just a few days ago the U.S. was forced to go with a 100% illegitimate President, one planted by a foreign power, under blackmail from that same power, with an estimated 1.5 billion (that’s billion with a B) dollars in debt, making him one of the brokest motherfuckers in the world (and oh boy, is he robbing the Presidency blind already...between selling access to himself and facilitating businesses abroad...), supported by the terrorist hate group formally known as kkk and every filthy, inferior white supremacist around, with a cabinet filled with incompetent, batshit insane, corrupt picks who’ll be responsible for everything from your tax dollars to nuclear weapons - fucking TERRIFYING - and who’s sole job is to burn it to the motherfucking ground and piss on the ash and oh yeah, let’s not ever stop talking about donald’s sex abuse history which includes confessed predatory behavior, strolling through teens changing rooms and rape accusations from minors to his ex wife. You really can’t expect much from a guy who once said “Is it wrong to be more sexually attracted to your own daughter than your wife?”; she was 13 at the time.

So while the rest of the world had been pulling its hair and collectively asking: “What, in the absolute name of FUCK is going on and why is it allowed to continue!?”, most people had been showing indignation...on Twitter, being extremely angry...at home. It took some pretty dark reality checks to shake folks up. The thought of 22 (now some sources say 30+) million Americans losing healthcare brought a few thousand people out, just a few thousands out of 71 million who voted for a different candidate. For months now I and many others have been begging anyone who’ll listen to go out, go beyond the fallacy of sticking solely to hashtag activism and actually act! Before the women’s march injected some much needed life into people, I was met with everything from sheer indifference to a sense of total hopelessness (useless sentiment), but the worst thing so far, the one that really angered me to the fucking core, was the sickeningly common sentence “we can’t do anything about it”. Buying into the fact that you’re powerless, failing to understand that people run the government and not the other way around is the most successful form of oppression ever deployed and let me tell you, there’s nowhere else on earth where it has been applied more successfully than in the US. Politicians running wild knowing there’s 0 accountability for their actions is what motivated the batshit insane last few weeks in which republicans have released a kind of greatest hits of nefarious fuckery which include the sentencing of millions to death or bankruptcy (or both) without health insurance, getting rid of what little oversight they have (though that was over with? Check again...), and paying the bill for donald’s dumbass wall which may be the most ridiculous, useless thing ever made...this kind of distancing between politicians an accountability is why crisis like Flint drag out for years with no resolution - or even interest for a resolution.

It really is a damn tragedy the situation has been allowed to run out of control, so now it’s time to get a handle on the lunacy. Before American women (actually, women everywhere) brought it, a few weeks back, LA and NY showed up early with marches of about 10 thousand people each, the most meaningful actions pre-post-inauguration; some folks burned a couple of trash cans in Portland (and conservatives have been crying out that “the cities are burning!!!” ever since, failing to mention, of course, that rioters are mainly paid elements to create this kind of disruption so people like donald can bitch about it later; see also Washington DC a few days ago) and that’s about it really...So what have we learned? Massive protests, shutting down streets, cities...it’s the only way to go. There needs to be a continuity to the kind of spirit which propelled the women's match. Politicians will never admit it, but they’re terrified of people in large numbers, they may despise voters but they also need them. So this “inauguration”, these disastrous first days, a ridiculous circus which would have been deemed too stupid to be featured in the cheapest of French farces can either mark the end of The American People’s chance to act or the start of a proper, comprehensive uprising. If you were waiting for the inauguration to then push for an impeachment...that won’t fly here, it’s too late for any of the regular democratic processes. Election was illegitimate, electoral college voted illegitimately...relying on this kind of stuff is dead and buried. Keep hearing folks talk about 2020, elections...bless their hearts...even if by some miracle we reach that date, do y'all really think there will ever, EVER be anything remotely close to a free election ever again? With these corrupt fucks in power? Nah, that ship has sailed. donald getting “elected” was what’s called a proof of concept and now, like a cancer, his so called administration will infect every nook and cranny of government, making it impossible to remove. Best case scenario, some key players get kicked out and there’s a chance to start repairing the damage, but the root is firmly planted and there will be massive problems for many years to come because donald and his posse got this far. Plus, external influence is and will continue to be massively powerful; Russia has republicans tightly grabbed by the balls which means all their decisions aren't really their own and that the US is now a satellite state. Cold War era communists would piss themselves in excitement like puppies if they had ever even dared to dream that such a thing could be possible. And the kicker is, the U.S. wasn’t even the main act, it was just a beta test. France and Germany are coming up next, efforts to end NATO and the EU are well on their way and in Europe, stupid people are falling for the same kind of “populism” (aka very poorly disguised racism and xenophobia and other assorted far right ideological diarrhea) that stupid people in America fell for when sprayed by golden boy himself. My faint hope is that a large enough number of Europeans will wake up in time. So far I remain disappointed. Twice now in fairly recent times Europe fucked itself up; soon it will be on its way to a third go. “Those who don’t understand history...” etc.

So here we are, 2017 and worried about world wars, nuclear wars, a Russian empire, nazis and the end of democracy. Ain't that a bitch? The real kicker tho, the part that made me so very pissed off at the reasonable, logic people out there is that the whole thing was so, so, SO very fucking avoidable...we got complacent and lost focus on how vicious the fight was and how vicious we had to be to win it. I love FLOTUS44 to no end but the motto should have been “when they go low, we get a motherfucking club and crack their head open cause they’re already in a convenient position to get bashed and we gotta take these fuckers out, pronto” - not as catchy, but it was the right attitude. To show just how soft and out of touch people have become, this week there’s been a debate about if punching a nazi is wrong. I shit you not! “If” it’s wrong...smh. And even if throwing hands isn’t your thing, all anyone ever really had to do was show up. Right at the start, show up, provide the numbers for “strength in numbers”, be a body in a crowd. Wasn’t hard, wasn’t costly, didn’t need a great deal of planning...call up a couple of friends who in turn call up 2 or 3 more and just...showing up and demanding the most basic legitimacy needed for an election, demanding that a line was drawn between free speech and hate speech, demanding that something as vile as donald and pence and bannon and kushner and flynn and every other piece of shit in the gang wasn’t allowed anywhere near a Presidential election. People knew what was at stake, people saw the democratic processes fail.

Like I said, the key players are predictable, they don’t break character; you know for a fact what they’ll do: donald will always be a sociopathic old perv and act like such; republicans will always be money hungry, moralless whores (and I use that word for the actions themselves, I mean no disrespect to hardworking, honest prostitutes who don’t deserve to be compared to something as disgusting as republicans); white supremacists will always be inferior whiny bitches; and the people who support all these aberrations will always be too fundamentally dense, too goddamn stupid to understand the seven ways till Sunday in which they’re getting fucked while cheering for the ones pounding their ass. But the people who know better, the people who’ve seen this ridiculous charade since the start for what it is and got lost in pointless shit like in house fighting (who had the best candidate cause of reasons) or simply didn’t lift a finger in any serious and meaningful way to try and stop it...they’re ones responsible for the mess being in play. It’s pretty simple: you see a toddler with a gun, you don’t wait till it shoots itself in the damn face, you take the gun away.

So where will we be a little while from now if things don’t change dramatically? Well let me put on my Carnac The Magnificent hat on (a lil something for the kids to Google, take their mind of this whole “we’re all probably gonna die horrible deaths” dealio): Our buddy Vladimir, finding out this shit actually works (whaaaaaat? Long shot win!), will try and succeed with the same model in other countries, Europe will be at war again, a short one because Russia will steamroll resistance as it takes over.NOT looking forward to that. The US will be carved like a thanksgiving turkey; first, the complete demolition of the Obama legacy because, you know, memories of a black Man in office for 8 years won’t do, gotta bulldoze that shit like, yesterday! Remind “the blacks” (as donald says) of their place, make aberrations of the LGBTs again, and fuck this environment shit cause who needs clean air and water when there’s fucking oil to drill, goddamn it!!! However, it won’t be just a gutting of government and liberties and rights, but also of territory. California will be the first to exit, also with - very indirect and covert - Russian backing, NY will follow. Texas will probably join in cause...well, it’s Texas, it’s just itching to shoot at something. The rest of the territory will be as miserable as any third world country. Sadly I won’t get the pleasure of shouting “MAGA!” and laughing my ass off in the face of every single Trump voter while they starve or die from most banal diseases in the book. A true shame. Russia will continue to fund terrorism like it does with ISIS, as well as planning/carrying out terrorist attacks whenever it suits their strategic interests (see Berlin, last Christmas), with donald being ISIS’ greatest poster child for recruitment while his buildings will make for great targets. Convenience! Oh and let’s not forget that in a pre-butchered US, Republicans will still need a war, so expect one. Republicans will also need 9/11 levels of terror, so expect a 2.0 version of that as well.

All of this of course if donald’s alarming mental decay doesn’t throw a wild card in the mix and he just decides: “fuck it, I’ll nuke everything” cause someone sent him a mean tweet. #Sad. And even if by some other wild card donald were to get impeach over prostitutes pissing on him or whatever the fuck else the shithead got recorded doing, the problem would still be the same: compromised government, completely invalid election, proven concept for aspiring global dictator, and resounding triumph of white Amerikkka’s “values”. The only way to do something which means a damn is to go out in force, quickly.

In a week marked by reporters get yelled at, at the White House, over crowd size “alternative facts”, a week in which we find donald had the inauguration pictures photoshoped to make his hands look bigger (what a fucking LOSER. That dick must really be in the micro category, I swear), a week in which the president elect goes nuts with executive orders to, out of pure spite, demolish the Obama legacy (donald is so insanely jealous of 44 that it clouds whatever shred of reason that pea brain of his can still muster) while simultaneously rambling about a blatant lie of millions of illegals voting while people in his goddamn entourage are actually guilty of voter fraud, a miserable week which saw government put a gag order on agencies divulging scientific facts, making them create “rogue” twitter accounts, an alarming week with revelations that staff and golden showers himself use all kinds of unprotected email services, the same thing which haunted Clinton forever without a shred of substance to it and that now, apparently, is totally cool, a sad week in which the megalomaniac embarrassment moved forward with orders to keep women in children stranded in war zones...is a week in which everyone should be planning exactly how seriously they want to contribute to the containment of this situation. personally, I suggest very and as soon as possible.

[This take on things is my own. Will not try to impose it nor debate it]

#the resistance #impeach trump #dump trump #illegitimate #illegitimate POTUS #PEEOTUS #ban trump #resist #resistence #Fuck Donald Trump #dumptrump #impeachtrump

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thenewman619 · 7 years

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Twisted Cryptids Episode 61'115: The Astral Apparition

As the screen fades from darkness, a stage lights up, revealing a thick veil of haze that currently occupies the viewer's sight. Various pieces of horror-themed trinkets and paraphernalia nailed against the back wall of the set. A man raises from the fog and floor, black hair and beard, sharply dressed. "A cosmic spirit that wanders the Earth, lost from its home. A galactic poltergeist that now haunts our world." Our apparent host speaks. "Tonight on this edition of ‘Twisted Cryptids’, we cover the ethereal specter, the extraterrestrial phantom -- The Astral Apparition." With the intro out of way, and with the knowledge of the host's name "Ron Myke", the show finally begins. "Over the course of the last 3 days various reports of the Astral Apparition have been popping up all over the globe" Don commentates while a map of the world pops up and indicates the sightings of the said enigma, via red dots. The scene cuts away to a title card with a vivid, swirling background accompanying it, "First Sightings" it reads. The camera zooms in on one of the bright, crimson marks. With a blurred transition, our first location is revealed: A forest in Germany. A shot of the forest shows an impact site of what seems to be a meteorite: Mighty trees knocked back away from the crater and a once lively lake filled to brim was drained overnight. An interview is conducted with the two witnesses: A young German couple who were camping in the forest on the night when the incident took place. Nearly an hour-and-a-half's' worth of interview footage was edited down to 4 second clips sprinkled throughout the segment on the two teenager. The couple began telling their story, due to the language barrier, the couple are spoken over by more native actors. This fact becomes apparent due to what is seen, the lip movements of the couple, and what is heard, the dubbed over voices. “We didn’t want to wanna go anywhere near that… thing.” The tan crimson-haired boy answered. “The closer and closer we got… The more chills ran down our spines” “It… Stood- No, floated at the edge of the lake” The pale brunette chimed in. “It was… Unreal. I thought I was having a nightmare… What came next made me wish that it was all in my head” An illustration is shown, the drawing showed the two cowering behind trees near the impact, the couple observing the cryptid in question. The otherworldly ghost being represented by a black splotch, due to lack of a description. “And then…” The fiery-haired witness holds his head in his hands. “It happened…” The Astral Apparition lifted up the water from the lake, in its entirety. Not only was the water affected, but the two fell towards the sky, only the branches of the arbors that surrounded them saved their lives from the fate of falling into the sky. Despite distance, despite language, the couple heard loud and clear what the enigma whispered... “Not here” The deity stared down at the empty lake and back up at the floating, formless mass of water. Within an instance, an entire lake’s worth of water turned into vapor, steam. As the anomaly fades from sight, possibly existence, the deadly ascent of the two cease. The couple surveyed the area, taking in the horror that they just behold. Their segment ends with final words from the brunette. “I don’t know what’s out there… I’m scared” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Once again the same title card and the rotating background greets the viewers eyes, “It Hungers”, it reads this time. The next location is a fast-food restaurant located in the UK, “Porky’s Burgers and Chips”. Another interview was conducted, this time with a minimum-wage employee working who was the night shaft. “I…” The black-haired, lanky employee scratched his head, trying to surface memories of the event. “-Was alone, I was workin' the graveyard shift, just finished taking the garbage out back, and emptying the deep-frier. I just done with mopping the kitchen and was about to leave, then… I heard someone break in.” Security cameras had captured the some of the event in pristine, black and white, blurry, low-definition quality footage. “‘Thought it was some drunk who broke in. I had my phone on me, I was about to call 999. ‘Headed to the kitchen… 'Wasn’t expecting what saw next…” The low-wage employee described the whole story within a matter of minutes. The teenager peeked through the door, the floor was covered with a thin sheet of ice, possibly from the water when he finished mopping up the kitchen. Even the chemical-infused water in the bucket had become nothing more than a block of ice. There it was, the beast of the week, eating a frozen patty. “A frozen one!” The worker bursts into laughter “The damn thing was munchin’ away on a rock of a meat chuck!” His fit of laughing soon ended.”Oh, boy… Bein’ honest, I think the creature’s a bit on the dim side…” The segment closes on one final question: What did it look like? “What did it look like?” Once more the teen scratches his head. “Uh… It was short and had long hair. ‘Had a weird glow around it, too. ‘Can’t really describe that.” This time, a witness pops a question. “What’s the thing called? ‘Astral Apparition’? Know what? F**k that title. I’m gonna call it a ‘Space Gremlin’. 'Cause that's what it is!” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The program cuts to commercial break. “DCTV is sponsored by: Conduit Laboratories -- Conduits Laboratories, shaping the world of tomorrow for over 50 years” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The final title card appears, “The Untouchable”. The third and final location is revealed: A roadside mini-mart and fueling station “Goody Goods”, Canada. Two witness are brought in for interviewing, a 30-something old trucker and a 20-something year old store clerk. The two begin to tell their stories. “Out the road at night carryin’ some cargo for a... “C. Labs” from what I can remember… I was runnin’ a bit low on fuel, so I took a pit-stop, naturally.” The trucker told his story. “He was outside, he was refueling. Nothing out of the ordinary.” The clerk adds on. “Then… This thing… It looked like a kid, it was goin’ on its merry way, minding its own business. It look like it was walkin’ towards the front door of mart. But… Here’s the thing… My truck was in the way…” The mustached man went on. “I expected the kid to crawl under it or… Something else than what it actually did… It went right through it." “I thought that maybe the child crawled under the truck. Either that or I had too much coffee that night. What I saw next was no mistake.” They both describe what the enigma of a child did. At first, the men both thought that their eyes deceived them. Once it happened again, it was clearly this was no illusion. The kid could walk through walls. “It came into the store and spent a good 10 or 15 minutes looking around the store, saying ‘Where is it, where is it?’. Then it just stood at the counter staring at me for almost an hour. I started asking questions: ‘Are you lost, where are your parents’, all that.” The clerk explains. “Eventually, I got fed up with the whole apparent ‘silent treatment’ and I start yelling at the kid to leave. Then I tried to grab its hand and tugging ‘em out, but… I actually touched it. I was half sure that hands would just go through it or something. 'Second I grabbed the kid, it threw me to the other side of the store, my landing made the stuff I sellin' fell off the shelves. I think I even broke a shelf or two. Understandably, I was mad, I was pissed. The store’s a mess and I was bleeding. I pulled out my pistol and shot at it. The bullets didn’t make contact, they hit the glass of the sliding doors behind the kid.” “Then I came in ‘cause of the gunshots.” The trucker verified “He was right about everything, the mess, the blood, the bullets. All that. As soon I came in, the thing left. Not in a normal way either, if that’s you’re wondering. It sank into the ground, no marks, no trace, no nothing.” Final thoughts are given by all five witnesses on the matter of the Astral Apparition, its impact, its potential, its danger. Ron Myke gave his two cents on this anomaly of a creature after the witnesses. “The Astral Apparition a truly twisted cryptid indeed, ladies and gentlemen. Having the abilities to manipulate gravity, radiate a freezing aura, and phase through solid objects, it seems that this ghastly being cannot be taken down by regular means. If you have any and all information regarding the Astral Apparition, send your story the link: www.dctv/TwistedCryptids.net.” Our host gives his final words of the week: “Thank you for watching this edition of 'Twisted Cryptids' on DCTV. Next week, we cover the subject of the 'IWTGH' Monster. Until next time, this Ron Myke signing out.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As the broadcast ends and the credits begin to roll, a blackout hits. The entirety of the house is plunged into the dead of night. Minutes pass, darkness continues to occupy the house. With a hum, the lights of the home flicker to life. Strangely, the television hasn't turned back on. No broadcasting show, no assault of static, nothing. All the television set shows is a reflection of the room of its placement and a young adult, he stares into the mirror of a TV screen. At 5'10", the adolescent is clad in a white shirt and denim jeans. Short golden locks cascade down the pale skinned face of the boy, his blonde hair turning a shade of scarlet as grows longer. The teenager's reddish eyes tear away from his reflection, to hear loud, howling breeze coming from the room next to him, the same room with the front door. The soft wind ceases, the gentle hum of light bulb above is the sound that dominates the room. Suddenly, the house itself begins to quake, objects rattle, lights flicker. The shaking stops, and a dim purple light radiates in the hallway across from the boy. The source reveals itself, rolling into sight: A stone, glass-like, magenta. The crystalline rock hovers up and reminds for a minute or two, idle. The stone begins to crack; a violet light radiates through them. Once more the home rumbles, the most violent one yet. Everything that isn't bolted to the ground falls from their place, breaking as they make contact with the floor. The television being the first of the objects to drops and expire. The glass-like stone bursts, pieces of it embed themselves into the walls and floor with an audible "THUNK!" What's left among the glittery, glassy debris is a vortex, a wormhole. The adolescent stares deeply into swirling, violet, chaotic images of the portal, hellish sounds and whispers accompany the vivid, nonsensical visuals. A white flash comes from the odd gateway, like the flash of a camera. The colors of the vortex becomes darker, and a banshee shriek exits from it. The boy hides in his sheets on the mocha carpet that he used as a bed before all this. Within his mind something clicked. A wave of deja vu hits the teen’s brain, the weird rock, its glittery mess of debris that it left. One more action is needed to ensure this deja vu. Through the portal a humanoid figure, a girl, crawls forth. The vortex begin to shine its normally abnormal colors. With a gasp and a cough, the dimension hopper gets up on her two feet and promptly levitates. The portal's light continues to radiate on, obscuring any specific details on the extraterrestrial deity and projecting only its silhouette. A clap of thunder sounds off, the otherworldly gateway seemingly vanishes from existence. With the ethereal glow gone, details of the girl are revealed: Long black, ruffled hair, brown skin, scuffs marks on her face, a light purple dress with design of a star on the chest, dirt stains riddle the a section of the skirt, and most her defining feature: Her height, very short. Even through all the dirt and scuff, the young adult immediately recognizes the girl. The ghastly being floats towards the boy. At last, what's in her hands is revealed: A rose, pink. The girl hovers ever so closer to the teen, her head shifting left and right, observing the room. The speaks to herself as she stares down at the rose and back to the boy "Do I just shove it into his face? That seems too forceful. I can’t hurt that face.” The boy with the golden locks pull back the sheets covering him. The enigma of a girl freezes in place, the teen’s blank, unknowing gaze locking her now terrified glance, he begins to mutter. “Shooting Star,” The boy questions “Is that you?” “Oh, my God, he’s back” Shooting Star’s words flow fearfully out of her mouth “Hmm?” He mumbles “How long was I out for?” “Uh… ‘Good 3 days, Rose” The short girl quivers in her non-existence boots “Wha?” Rose’s oblivious state gives way to panic in a fraction of a second and springs from his sheets. “3 days?! WHAT?! Oh, no!” As Shooting Star fears and worries wan via chuckle, Rose grabs both her shoulders. “What did you do for 3 days? Shooting Star, what the sweet antimatter-” “I looked for your flower” The sweet little girl replies Her words strike Rose ears, he cringes, back away from Shooting Star, his face twitching, and feeling his heart sink down into the pit of his stomach. As of recently, never before has fear gripped him this fiercely. Shooting Star tilts her head in confusing while holding the flower as Rose goes through his own mini-crisis. “Wait… I thought I put it in a place where no one can get to it… And she still found it.” He internally panics. The otherworldly girl gives the pink rose to the now reassessed blonde Rose, he places it over his right eye. Briars extrude from the flower in all directions and latch onto the male Goldilocks’ head, practically snapping on. The rose’s vines begin to shift and move around Rose’s face, nearly all of them hiding themselves in his hair, completely out of sight. All but one vine shelters within the boy’s locks, it resides on his left cheek, with a smaller, second rose blooming. “Huh, so you don’t need you flower to function” Shooting Star notices, as Rose usually needs his rose in order to be a normal, operating Light Being: A semi-mechanical organism. “I don’t, but it helps with my energy levels.” He lays down. “My facial insignia shows up when I’m stable… Ish, or if I feel like displaying it” “Oh, yeah!” The short enigma jumps up and runs towards the front door. “Hmm?” Rose’s curiosity peaks Shooting Star is seen again with a cardboard box, held together by twine and cluttered with stamps. The girl tears into packaging, she throws its content at the flower boy, another cardboard box. In an instant, Rose gets excited at what the package’s package reads: “100%, All-Natural, Fat-Free Granola Bars”, his favorite. “120 bars inside!” Immediately, the hungry teenager starts to claw his way through the box, consuming around 3 bars in about a minute. “You know, you should branch out your diet, Rose. Literary, all you eat is granola bars” Shooting Star states. With his mouth full “Oh, yeah, do you want some, Star?” “Nah,” She declines. “I already had something while searching for your little flower thingy” A memory the broadcast quickly went to Rose’s mind as he swallows his mouthful of granola “That ‘something’ wouldn’t happen to be a burger? A frozen one” With a confused expression and a brow raised she says “Wait, how did you know?” “Well… I’ll tell you later.”

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‘Been meaning to post this over here for a while, now.

Story done as a gift for @shiolily64, Merry Belated as Sh*t Birthmas

#Astral Apparition #shooting_star #Disconnected #Rose_Gold #Newman619 #I has returnz #fear me

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josephkitchen0 · 6 years

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Tips for Germinating Seeds Indoors

By Gail Reynolds – There’s probably nothing quite so rewarding for any gardener as the success of starting your own herb, vegetable, or flowering plants, indoors, from seed. Not only can you get an early jump on the growing season by growing seedlings indoors, but you can realize some serious savings in the process.

For the commercial grower (even the small-scale truck gardener or farmer’s market vendor) germinating seeds indoors is not simply the most cost-effective way to go, but producing (rather than purchasing) your own plants can usually make the difference between red or black ink in the profit margin at the end of the season.

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For the home gardener, there are some major bucks to save as well when you pit the relatively small investment for your time, effort, and seed purchases against the prevailing retail prices for plants.

For example, I’ll grow herbs from seed here since I know them best. For a packet of approximately 100 herb seeds (even the rarest varieties) fall in the neighborhood of $1.50 from top seed companies. The retail catalog price for one plant (even the most ordinary) is around $4.50, not including shipping.

In any event, the real satisfaction of germinating seeds indoors comes in the freedom to select those plant varieties and cultivars which best meet your needs for taste, appearance, quality, and productivity, instead of being limited to only those selections available on the nursery shelves or through catalog offerings.

While germinating seeds indoors can be challenging, once you’ve got the principles of successful germination down pat, it’ll soon become old-hat! I’ll try and share some of the stuff we’ve learned over the years (through not only our successes but our outrageous failures, as well), plus hopefully put you on to some money-saving tricks to avoid any top-heavy initial investment.

Getting Started Germinating Seeds Indoors

The first lesson is to get started at the right time. If you are wondering when to start vegetable seeds indoors, charts and lists will tell you to start germinating seeds indoors six to eight weeks before your usual outdoors planting time. Before we get into what you’ll need, become acquainted with the folks who run your local privately owned plant-sales (not plant supplies) nursery or a commercial grower in your area. Generally speaking, these folks will be excited about what you’re doing; they’ll offer some invaluable tips for germinating seeds indoors and be there to troubleshoot if you run into any problems; plus they can help supply you with the standardized best in equipment at a nominal cost.

The reason for this is that commercial growers, such as ourselves, purchase seeding equipment at wholesale prices in case quantities. More often than not, it is more cost-effective for us to purchase that case-volume (even if it’s more than we need) than to purchase a lesser volume at the per-single price.

For example, we purchase our 20-row seeding trays in the 100/case volume at under 50-cents apiece. Retail single unit price can get as high as $1.50 and $2.00. I doubt I’ll live long enough to use all of our seeding trays so I’m not averse to selling one or two of them to someone at our going-in price, just to recoup some of our original outlay.

Furthermore, many of these nursery plastics are reusable, if rinsed in bleach water from year to year. So I might simply give away a few used ones and start the season with some brand new ones!

Here’s what you’ll need to get started: Containers for germinating seeds indoors, soil mix, watering can, water sprayer or mister, labels, underneath heat source, permanent indelible pen or marker, and seeds.

Containers: You can start seeds in practically any type of container that will hold a couple inches of starting soil mix — from an egg carton seed starter to commercially available peat pots, open flats or compartmentalized flats.

The main thing when it comes to containers (particularly for germinating seeds indoors) is that they won’t become easily waterlogged, are shallow enough to readily absorb heat from overhead and underneath sources, and are compact in size.

For germination, you’ll want to maintain a steady overhead and underneath temperature of 75-90 degrees for about two weeks. When your plants reach the seedling stage and are ready to be transplanted into larger containers, temperature requirements can be relaxed and are less critical.

Since you’ll be shelling out for the heating expenses it only makes sense to focus your heat sources on the smallest amount of area possible. My pick: A 20-row seeding tray (placed into an open flat). Because of its shallow trenches, this seeding tray lends the best environment for quick, healthy seed germination. And because of its compactness — you can start as many as 1,000 seedlings in this single 11×21-inch piece of equipment — it saves lots of space and heating costs. Retail costs for seeding tray and flat: $3-$4.

Soil mix: While some authorities would recommend one soil mix for germinating seeds indoors and another compound for your transplants, I find this a waste of money, since you can find soil mixes which satisfy both needs well.

My pick is Metro Mix 366 (2.8 cu. ft. bag). A bag of this will fill your one seed tray plus 19 transplant trays (called 1204s-each tray houses 48 separate transplants). In the lesser alternative, I’d vote for Schultz Potting Soil (in the same capacity). Cost for either is around $7.50. Caution! Do not use ordinary garden soil and steer away from potting soils on sale outside your corner grocer or discount outlet. These look like a steal of a deal, however often times they are so dense that they eventually choke off and kill your transplants. One year, in desperation on a Sunday, we purchased some and lost about 5,000 of our basil plants in the experience.

Bottom heat source: This can be anything from a 25-watt light bulb in an apple box placed below your seeding flat to a heating blanket or heating pad.

My pick is a heating pad (pick one up at a garage sale) which fits perfectly underneath your 11×21-inch flat.

Overhead heat source: If your house is fairly toasty (and since heat rises) once you’ve seeded your tray try placing the whole germinating deal on top of the refrigerator or a cabinet for a couple of days until you see the first sprouts popping up. After that, you’ll want to expose the flat to light.

Water source: A watering can will allow you to initially wet down the soil you have placed in your seed tray (let water completely absorb before you distribute seeds) and use later on your transplanted seedlings. You’ll need a mister (an old cleaned out window-spray plastic bottle works wonderfully) to water the newly germinated seeds and sprouts for about two weeks until they’re ready for transplanting.

Seeds: Steer away from too-good-to-be-true 10 seed packets/$1 deals. Generally, you’re lucky if you get 15-25 seeds and exceptionally lucky if any of them ever germinate.

My pick would be a reputable seed house. You can get some pretty good mini-packet prices for quality seeds, which you can seed out and label in each or any of the 20 separate rows of your seeding tray.

Markers and labels: I use popsicle sticks for stick-up labels to mark what I’ve seeded in each row. They fit in the ends of the seed rows perfectly and they stand tall enough for me to read. As far as marking pens, just make sure they’re permanent markers or your water misting will remove what you worked so hard to put on.

Ed note: Prices from 2003.

The How-To of Seeding

First place your soil mix into your container, flush to the top. Water it down generously, and let it absorb fully. If you’re using the 20-row seeding tray, place it in the open flat once all water is absorbed. Sprinkle your seeds on top of the moistened soil. In the 20-row seeder, you can seed 50 seeds per row. Label your row each time you change plants or varieties of a plant. If you have more than one seeding tray or container and do not seed all at the same time, you may want to place the seeding date on your label as well, so you can track the germination time.

Unless the instructions on your seed packet tell you not to, sprinkle some of the dry soil mix over the top of your seeds to cover them. (Most seeds prefer to germinate in the dark.) Then take your index finger and tamp down this topping soil lightly to set seeds. Now, sprinkle with the mister until totally moist.

If your home is fairly dry (as ours is from wood heat), place your seeding tray or container inside a large plastic bag and secure with a clothespin or large paper clip at the open end.

Get your bottom heating source set up, place your container on top, and mist the soil whenever it appears to be drying out, then watch for the sprouts to poke through.

Rule of thumb for misting: Neither flood your soil mix nor allow it to dry out. While germinating seeds indoors, lean on the side of more moisture, rather than less if you are unsure. Later, during the seedling and transplant stage, do the reverse. Too much moisture will ruin your young plants (I’ve been there). Once your seeds have sprouted, they will need light, air, and moisture.

Light required is optimum 16 hours per day, and 12 hours is the absolute minimum tolerated for healthy seedlings and transplants. Natural light from a window is great — just make sure there’s no cold air coming from your window space.

If you’ve had plastic bags over your containers, the time to remove them is when the sprouts begin to pop through the soil. Leave them in open air and keep moist, then introduce the tender sprouts to at least some light at intervals during the daylight hours, keeping them free of chill. Keep moist and continue to provide a heat from underneath, as well as in the surrounding air.

Transplanting

The first leaves to unfold when a seed germinates are called “cotyledone.” These first leaves often look different from the leaves that follow. Those that follow are considered “true leaves.” When seedlings develop their first set of true leaves, they are ready for transplanting.

You can transplant your seedlings into any type of container you wish. We transplant ours in 1204 trays, which house 48 separated plants per 11×21 plastic container. This tray is placed into an open flat.

Whatever container you choose to use, make sure it has proper drainage. You may wish to buy commercial plastic trays (such as the 1204) and place some gravel above the drainage hole in the bottom of the container for proper filtering. Fill the container with the appropriate potting soil, water down completely, and let the soil completely absorb the water.

Once the soil has absorbed the water, take a popsicle stick (or old pencil) and place a circular hole wherever you intend to place a seedling. (In the case of the plastic compartmentalized trays (such as the 1204), place one hole in the center of each compartment.

Now, with your index finger, carefully lift out a portion of seedlings from your germination container. In the case of the 20-row seeding tray, lift out about a one-inch portion of a row, scooping it from the bottom. Carefully, separate the seedlings (from the bottom side-not the top and not the root), taking each seedling and gently poking it into the holes you have just made. Allow for at least 1/3-1/2 of the seedling below the soil mark. Take your thumb and forefinger and gently squeeze the soil around the plant, and go on to the next one. Once you get the hang of this it all goes very quickly and smoothly.

Once your transplanting is completed, you can lower your temperature requirements (60-70 degrees is fine), remove any bottom heat source and begin to watch your plants flourish.

You can now water with your watering can, preferably one which can “sprinkle,” rather than “pour” the water into the container.

Do not over-water however, and do not allow the soil to completely dry out.

Prior to planting outdoors, it helps to harden off your transplants. For a few hours during the warmth of the day set them outside and allow them to acclimate to the outdoors.

When the plants are anywhere from six to eight weeks old, your outside area is free from frost and the soil temperature reaches a steady 50 degrees, you’re ready to plant these puppies outdoors.

Have fun and good luck germinating seeds indoors!

Published in Countryside March / April 2003 and regularly vetted for accuracy.

Tips for Germinating Seeds Indoors was originally posted by All About Chickens

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worldofadvent · 7 years

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NEO World of Advent Chapter Five

It had been several days since Light had been approved for a position in the Neo Arcadian military. What exactly that position entailed, however, was still being kept from Light. He leaned back into his comfortable reclining chair as he gave his room a quick sweep with his eyes. The shelves, mostly barren save for the few sentimental articles he deemed worth keeping were haphazardly stacked against one side of the wall. A solitary picture of three people, a boy with raven-black hair and a girl with hair the color of rust stood at either side of Light, grinning. He quickly turned away.

There really wasn't much to his room, honestly. After the "Incident" as he kept referring to it in his head, he made a hasty journey to the Big City. It was a big change, the huge spires of steel, raw energy sparking like wildfire at their peaks. It was certainly different than an endless sea of dunes, where the odd cactus was considered a landmark. Light's thoughts strayed to his old home and the flash of a blue helmet. He shook the thoughts away and focused on the gnawing of his belly.

In his storage unit, food consisted of a few main staples - sim sausages, sim chicken, sim ham, sim pork, and, if he was feeling especially fancy, sim turkey. Real food was an expense in the city, where mass production of food they swear tasted "just like" the real thing were made in factories from piles of flavored goop and shaped into something the politicians could label edible. Light hated it.

Sure, the city may have its accommodations like an unlimited source of energy and a lifespan over the age of thirty five, but there was just something wrong about eating sim chicken when he had tasted the real thing. He doubted any of the stuff had ever come from a real animal. Light checked the label - "artificially flavored" - and set the package of sim chicken down gingerly. Sim food wasn't soul food, that's for sure, but it didn't kill the budget. All the same, Light thought sourly, his briefing was scheduled for later that evening. He would rather not go on a stomach filled with lies.

Light made a quick glance at the clock, figuring that it would still be some time before rush hour for the shops ended, wanting a more peaceful atmosphere if he were to murder his account balance for the sake of something lacking "sim" in its name to eat. He amused himself in the meantime by going over random military advertisements, editing them with pictures of cats.

Once he was done with his masterpiece of irreverent redistribution of soldiers and kittens, he made a quick site where prints of a cat wearing a helmet under the large emblazoned word "Hope" could be downloaded for free, making sure it was untraceable in the off chance his supervisors didn't share his refined sense of humor.

Light turned off his computer with a quick jab of the off switch and stretched, arms splayed out as he relinquished the comfort of his armchair. His stomach growled, prompting Light to grab the set of keys that led to his personal sanctuary and open the door. He was met by a fresh ocean breeze and the squawking of sea rats, er seagulls. Light gave the beady-eyed creatures a wide berth, remembering the last time he let his guard down around them. It had taken hours of scrubbing to get the stains out and the smell still lingered to this day.

Having successfully convinced himself that "Mass Tastebud Suicide" did in fact count as an emergency, Light accessed his emergency fund from a nearby ATM and retrieved the last of his credits. He would be receiving his proper job soon, and with it, a better pay than whatever earnings he could get from betting on himself at local fight clubs. Still, the three red '$0.00' displaying his net worth made him a little uneasy. Deciding that the pursuit of finer things in life, namely food that wasn't born on an assembly line was still worth it, Light pocketed the change and made for the direction of a shopping plaza.

Light had always enjoyed browsing the various shops and people that did the shopping in Neo Arcadia. Alongside the colorful assortment of goods and carefully packaged luxuries an equally colorful crowd of customers picked them up and placed them in their cart. Light had found a game on an online forum where it said to make up a story for the person based off of the contents of their cart. So far, the man with seven packs of peanut butter, "protection," and dog biscuits made for the most interesting story. And the most disturbing, Light thought.

He had browsed too, of course. There were some interesting quality-of-life items to be found, like razors that didn't cut too deep or a subscription for premium broadcasting, but Light had never had the funds to spare for unnecessary expenses. Something he had always lingered on was the mall's food court, which held a single shop with tantalizing smells. The fumes alone were enough to guide Light to it. The shop in question wasn't much to look at and as far as "real food" restaurants went, it wasn't the fanciest, but it did the trick. Light found himself eyeing the menu like a drowning man would a life preserver.

"I take it you don't do this often," the cashier, a woman in her mid-thirties said with a smile. "It's a lot better than that sim stuff, isn't it?"

"You can say that again," Light said with fervor. "I think I'll have the fried chicken platter. It's been awhile since I had something smothered in grease."

"Sure thing hon," the woman said. "That's going to be thirty-five credits. Will you be paying with cash or card?"

"Cash I suppose," Light said, forking over the bills, noticing how much thinner his wallet was. Oh well; his wallet's loss was his stomach's gain.

"Thanks so much," the woman said cheerily. "Your order will be ready in just a few minutes."

Light thanked her and took a seat at a booth where a television program broadcasted the news. The reporter was out at sea, talking with an official looking reploid with several gold stars on his coat. Even the sight of the boat's rocking made him uncomfortable, but Light found his eyes gravitated to the screen all the same. Although the rumble of nearby conversations drowned out the sound of the reporter, a helpful series of captions was displayed on the bottom of the screen. Apparently they were on the scene of one of Fairy Leviathan's ships, where her daughter, the Advent named Mist, was in charge.

Sure enough, the scene shifted to where Mist was in full view. Her hair was a light blue color, fitting for an aquatic Advent, Light thought. She had fair skin and an admirable amount of curves even if her uniform did its best to hide them. She was speaking about a recent shortage of recruits for some program due to a strict requirement, but how she would be receiving a promising class soon.

Light snorted softly; no amount of money in the world could convince him to do her kind of jobs out at sea. If flying overboard wouldn't do him in, his chronic seasickness would. Light stuck around, idly wondering who she managed to sucker into the job, lazily fingering his communicator, which now displayed the number 154. Light couldn't help but recognize the number from earlier in the broadcast and felt a cold sinking feeling, like an iceberg being dragged down to the pit of his core. Swallowing nervously, Light convinced himself that it was a large class, he was sure. The number didn't mean anything. It was probably just sent to everyone being appointed to a designated division. That didn't necessarily mean that the division had anything to do with water. Right?

Light's despair was held at bay by the sudden arrival of a plate of steaming food that he could for once inhale more than just the aroma. Light savored the crispy skin and the juice that dribbled down his fork, all thoughts of impending doom abated by the glow of a full stomach. Confident now that the number wasn't 154 at all, Light made a leisurely walk to the recruitment center where he would be placed as a part of an assigned squadron. It was still quite some time before it was scheduled to start and Light spent the walk thinking about all the different numbers that broadcast could have been talking about. Like 153 or 155.

The streets were lined with the bustle of civilians honking cars in aggravation and traffic, a more peaceful set of people strolling along the sidewalks with purpose until they pulled into a certain shop. Reploids could be seen directing the flow of traffic, special vests given to grant them the authority to ease the flow of the many cars clogging the roads. It was a familiar rhythm, one Light had grown used to by now. It was different from the laughter of a bonfire made in the dunes, but had a similar sense of energy. It had taken some time to recognize that.

Light found the recruitment building, the four symbols for the four different branches of Neo Arcadian military held together by one unique emblem proudly displayed upon the front. Inside, the decor was rather austere, with a few benches and chairs found in the waiting room beside a single receptionist. He gave Light a curt nod before shuffling some papers he held in hand.

Light waited before the man set down the stack of papers before approaching the desk. He introduced himself as being told that he should be here at 5. The man made a few calculations on his computer, asking for his name.

"It's Light," he said. "No last name. Unclaimed, I suppose. Advent. Class 154."

"Ah," the man said. "I see you now. Class 154, Advent, blood type A?"

"Yes," Light said, holding out his communicator. "Do you need any further form of identification?"

"Yes," the man said. "Just a prick of blood for verification purposes. It won't hurt. He placed Light's index finger under a slender device that clamped around his finger. A slight prick later, Light rubbed the droplet of blood away and waited for the man to proceed. "Everything seems to be in order, Special Case," the man said. "You know, most people have to do months of training before they get approved for the physical training bit."

"I trained as well," Light said offhandedly. "Just in a different way. And for more than a few months."

The man shrugged. "Well, whatever the reason, they think you're good enough. Show 'em that Advents deserve a spot in the ranks."

Light raised his eyebrows. "Are you an Advent?"

The man shook his head. "No, but my daughter is. She's always talking about 'that Advent with the pretty blue hair.' I suppose she's going to be your captain."

Light held back a very unprofessional groan of dismay. "You aren't talking about Mist, are you? Fairy Leviathan's daughter?"

"Oh yes," the man said. "You've been assigned for a naval squadron. Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all," Light lied. It was too late now to back out, he figured. "Where do I go from here?"

The man pointed him to the end corridor, and wished Light luck. Light was too preoccupied in thoughts of a turbulent sea and unsteady boatcraft to bother responding in turn. He found the appropriate door, opening it and taking a seat nearby a reploid with black and white coloration and the distinct patternation of a killer whale.

The reploid turned to face him, a skepticism apparent. When it is clear that Light was there to stay, he spoke up. "I was told this was an elite group," he said. "Surely no human should be here."

"I'm not a human," Light said patiently, having had to make the correction before. "I'm an Advent."

"You look pretty human to me," the reploid said dismissively.

"I'm pretty sure that's how it works," Light retorted. "Why do you care? Our captain is an Advent as well."

"Our captain is Mist Leviathan," the reploid said. "Any child of Leviathan has my respect. You have yet to earn it. My name is Orca. And yours is?"

"Light," he said simply. The reploid gave him a lingering glance, but said nothing. Soon, more seats were filled as the rest of the squad arrived. A reploid with fins protruding from his limbs fittingly introduced himself as Fin and another reploid with sleek armor introduced herself as Shale. Soon after, an Advent named Rak walked in confidently, ignoring Orca's look of disdain.

The five of them started talking amongst themselves. Apparently they all excelled at physical training, and some were hand picked because of their aquatic abilities, namely Shale, Orca, and Rak. Orca, as it transpired could use a form of sonar as part of his design while Shale's vision was very good in darkness and murky seas. Rak possessed an oversol with the ability to breathe underwater and propel himself through water at rapid speeds. Fin, ironically, did not specialize in swimming, but had experience with many salvage missions out at sea.

"What do you think this squad is for?" Rak asked.

"There was a broadcast about it earlier," Orca said. "We're here to be a part of Mist's new naval rescue division."

Light nodded. "I remember seeing something about it earlier."

Shale's hands made several signs, which Fin translated with an explanation.

"Shale cannot speak," Fin said. "She uses a form of sign language employed by military when verbal signals are inefficient or counterproductive, such as in times of stealth. She says that it is good to meet you."

Shale nodded in affirmation. Her hands made to sign something again, but she instead opted for a communication, typing in a sentence that is projected through it. "Do you know when our captain is supposed to be here?"

Light shrugged. "I don't know. Soon, I suppose."

Shale gave Light a nod. Soon, the five of them had a sense of familiarity, if not camaraderie quite yet. The minutes passed by in idle conversation until the wall opened up on the opposite side, and the Advent Light saw on the television screen, Mist, walked out.

"At ease," she said at the sight of the more experienced members stiffen into a salute. "I hope you aren't here to disappoint me. I chose you all specifically because I thought you could give my program the kickstart it needs. Though wartime efforts have thankfully ceased, distress signals are not a thing of the past. Even though technology advances at a rapid pace, accidents at sea still happen. People get hurt. People die. We're here to prevent that. It took my mother a lot of convincing to approve a division specifically for deep offshore rescue, so if I see that any of you are not pulling your weight I will personally remove you. Are we understood?"

The room gave a curt nod. Light felt slightly intimidated by the force of her personality. Was this what all the Guardians' Advents were like? Despite the severity of her statements, Light could feel a similar sort of nervousness coming from her though; whatever this program was, it was important to her.

"You have all been proven to be exemplary in terms of physical ability by your spreadsheets," Mist continued, "But you have yet to impress me. We will be doing a few small exercises so that I can assess you properly."

Mist led the five of them outside, where a large track field was held. Mist told them to "get running" and started them off with a 'quick and easy five mile run.' They all start running, Mist easily keeping the pace with them, limbs moving gracefully as she outpaced them. Light grinned as she outlapped Orca, a strange feeling overcoming him as he pushed his own feet forward, ignoring the look on the reploid's face as he too passes him. He nearly reaches Mist when Mist slows to a stop upon the completion of the fifth mile, Light mere moments behind. Mist gave him an appreciative glance that he thought he enjoyed more than he should.

Light took a bottle of water given to each of them by their captain appreciatively as she told them that in five minutes they would be sparring. This appeared to be of no surprise to the rest of them, being in a military group even if their objective wasn't specified for combat. Soon, they were grouped in two's save for Light, who was left the odd one out.

"Who am I supposed to be sparring with?" Light asked.

"You will be sparring with me," Mist said simply. "If you want to compete with me on the field, then this should be of no concern to you."

If she thought Light would back down, she was disappointed. Light grinned, taking on a combat pose, ready to spring into action. "What is your oversol?" Mist asked. "The report was uncertain."

"I can disable and steal certain abilities of people I punch," Light said. "It's a useful ability to have."

"We'll see how well it does against a daughter of Neo Arcadia," Mist said imperiously.

"Are there any restrictions to this fight or can I use my full force?" Light asked. Not that he would ever use his full oversol anyhow. To the world, he was merely Light the Unclaimed Advent. Only a handful of people knew him as the Advent who had escaped Umera's labs, the lost child of Ciel and Zero.

Mist gave him a dry look in response, clearly not impressed. "I am a Royal Advent," she said. "You may use whatever force you feel is necessary. Don't worry," she added with an uncharacteristically sadistic grin. "I'll go easy on you." Light felt a thrill of excitement. Mist may put of the facade of the prim and proper commander, but he knew a kindred soul when he saw one. Baring a similar smile, Light let his fists turn black, the clothing beneath hiding the deep red hue the rest of his oversol bore.

The start of the fight was instantaneous, explosive. Light appeared behind Mist faster than the human eye could see, but by the time he was there, Mist had already disappeared, a fist aimed at his shoulder. A quick deflection later, Light swung a fist at her in return, hopping away as she snapped a kick at his thigh. The air became thick with condensation. Light felt more than just sweat pool at the skin not touched by his oversol, clothing becoming damp. Remembering her origins, Light whipped around, a monstrous roundhouse kick unsettling Mist before she could create more water, who recovered almost as quickly as it happened. Mist caught his leg with her own, toppling his balance to the ground, upon which Light spun and landed on his feet gracefully in one fluid motion.

Mist's previously cold nature had given way to a savage joy. She appeared behind Light as Light's fist swung into the space she appeared into. To his surprise, it sunk through her, burying itself on her other side, water replacing physical body mass. She hopped back, a bead of sweat at last showing on her face upon her activation of what Light assumed was part of her oversol. A useful ability, Light thought, to be able to phase physical objects through, but it had to come at the price of a considerable amount of stamina. She couldn't hold that form up for long.

Light focused on using his fists with the intent of sapping the ability from her outright if not exhausting her first. He threw his body into his next punches, weight shifting with each punch. Mist caught the last with a fist tinged with blue, twisting it so that Light's tendons screamed from the unnatural angle, using his loss of momentum to place a palm thrust on his chest, sending him flying to the ground.

Light made to get up, but Mist motioned for him to stop, breath ragged. "Why were you holding back?" she demanded in a voice small enough so that it was meant only for him. "Don't insult me."

"I was doing pretty good if I say so myself," Light defended himself. "I could have recovered from that."

Mist said nothing, just allowed the condensation in his clothes that had accumulated during the fight to freeze, coating him in restrictive icy armor. He was pinned. She snapped her fingers again and the ice melted. "I don't know who you think you are, but you have a lot to learn if you think you can challenge me without using your real strength," she said. She turned to face the rest of the party, who had stopped to watch the match take place.

"Woah,' Rak said. "You two were amazing."

"Practice makes perfect," Mist said promptly, automatically. "There's no reason you cannot attain a similar level of expertise."

There it was again, Light noticed. The facade had come back. He had seen beyond that shell of command, though. Her face, contorted in the frenzy of the fight and something else. Something he recognized, but couldn't quite put a name to it.

The five of them were sent home with instructions to return a few days from then for the rest of their training. Back inside Light's room, he replayed the fight, imagining how things would have been different if he had really gone all out. And that feeling he got from her, that was the face of someone hiding who she was. Light recognized it very well. He saw it every time he faced a mirror. The question was, what was she hiding?

#megaman #megaman zero #mmz #capcom #long story #ocs #fanfic #fanfiction

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josephkitchen0 · 6 years

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Tips for Germinating Seeds Indoors

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Getting Started Germinating Seeds Indoors

Furthermore, many of these nursery plastics are reusable, if rinsed in bleach water from year to year. So I might simply give away a few used ones and start the season with some brand new ones!

Bottom heat source: This can be anything from a 25-watt light bulb in an apple box placed below your seeding flat to a heating blanket or heating pad.

My pick is a heating pad (pick one up at a garage sale) which fits perfectly underneath your 11×21-inch flat.

Seeds: Steer away from too-good-to-be-true 10 seed packets/$1 deals. Generally, you’re lucky if you get 15-25 seeds and exceptionally lucky if any of them ever germinate.

Ed note: Prices from 2003.

The How-To of Seeding

If your home is fairly dry (as ours is from wood heat), place your seeding tray or container inside a large plastic bag and secure with a clothespin or large paper clip at the open end.

Get your bottom heating source set up, place your container on top, and mist the soil whenever it appears to be drying out, then watch for the sprouts to poke through.

Light required is optimum 16 hours per day, and 12 hours is the absolute minimum tolerated for healthy seedlings and transplants. Natural light from a window is great-just make sure there’s no cold air coming off your window space.

Transplanting

Whatever container you choose to use, make sure it has proper drainage. You may wish to buy commercial plastic trays (such as the 1204) and place some gravel above the drainage hole in the bottom of container for proper filtering. Fill the container with the appropriate potting soil, water down completely, and let the soil completely absorb the water.

Once your transplanting is completed, you can lower your temperature requirements (60-70 degrees is fine), remove any bottom heat source and begin to watch your plants flourish.

You can now water with your watering can, preferably one which can “sprinkle,” rather than “pour” the water into the container.

Do not over-water however, and do not allow the soil to completely dry out.

Prior to planting outdoors, it helps to harden off your transplants. For a few hours during the warmth of the day set them outside and allow them to acclimate to the outdoors.

When the plants are anywhere from six to eight weeks old, your outside area is free from frost and the soil temperature reaches a steady 50 degrees, you’re ready to plant these puppies outdoors.

Have fun and good luck germinating seeds indoors!

Published in Countryside March / April 2003 and regularly vetted for accuracy.

Tips for Germinating Seeds Indoors was originally posted by All About Chickens

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