#with this that nightly blood is extremely well earned

[jacqcrisis]

My favorite part of this game is when Astarion is just hanging out in a convo with another character.

Look at him. We just beat Grym and then trekked all the way back to the arcane tower for gods' know why. He's at half health. Lae'zel is talking about cutting off body parts again. My man is so ready to toss himself off the tower to get a nap, it's written all over his face.

[sunhomesaunas-blog]

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[s-k-y-l-i-g-h-t-s]

A Rainy Night | Diluc

synopsis: It’s raining when you finally meet the Darknight Hero in the dead of night.

word count: 1.48k

genre: fluff, short fic

_____

It’s just starting to rain when you get off the night shift in the Ordo Favonius Headquarters. The raindrops are cool against your skin as you walk through the city’s streets in the drizzle, not particularly bothered by the weather. In fact, you find the rain to be quite refreshing after spending a long day cooped up in Headquarters, and you take your time as you head home, the Anemo Vision on your belt bobbing gently with your footsteps.

You’re approaching a corner into one of the less frequented side streets when you, being a Knight, recognize a rather familiar sound. You pause in your step as the sharp squeal of an Abyss Mage echoes through the air, slightly muffled by the drawl of the rain on the cobblestone streets.

An Abyss Mage? In the city? 

Narrowing your eyes, you draw your sword from your side and angle it in front of you. With a sharp intake of breath, you turn the corner just in time to see the blade of a massive claymore cleave the said Abyss Mage in half. 

You screech to a stop on the slippery cobblestone, jaw falling open as you survey the extremely unexpected scene in front of you. Several hilichurl corpses lie motionless on the ground, their scarlet blood mingling with the rainwater on the stone. The two halves of the Abyss Mage flop down next to the bodies, and silence, save for the constant murmur of the rain, fills the air. And in the center, surrounded by the corpses, stands a masked warrior cloaked in black, the tip of his claymore resting on the wet floor like a gravestone.

His crimson eyes burn with an intensity you’ve never experienced before, and your breath catches in your throat when his gaze swivels around to meet yours, fierce and powerful. He turns away with a swish of his scarlet ponytail once he sees you, heading quickly toward a shadowed alleyway before you can reach him. 

You catch the sight of his reddening shirt before he disappears around the corner.

“Wait!” You shout behind him but your cry falls on deaf ears, and your steps falter as you come to a stop once more. You slide your sword back into its sheathe with a thoughtful frown. Red hair, red eyes, a black cloak. Could he be the famed Darknight Hero? The only thing missing from his description is the blaze of flames that is said to be conjured with each mighty swing of his sword, but you suppose the rain is the preventing factor this time. 

Should you follow him? You wonder as your gaze sweeps around at the bloody scene he has left behind. The Knights have been rather taken with discovering the true identity of the mysterious vigilante lately, and surely any other Knight would jump on a chance like this. But you’re not like the others, and personally you don’t mind keeping the Darknight Hero’s identity a secret- it’s not like he’s an ill-willed criminal, after all.

And so you’re about to walk away to report the incident to the nearest guard, when you remember the blood blossoming across his shirt.

You stand there in the rain, debating with yourself for another few heartbeats, before abruptly turning to follow the crimson-haired man into the alleyway.

Jogging fairly slowly so as not to alarm the man, you allow your footsteps to remain audible as your boots splash through the puddles on the ground. You know for a fact that this alley leads to a dead end and that the walls are too wet and slippery to climb right now, so you’re fairly certain that the vigilante is still in the vicinity.

Your theory proves to be correct as you slow your footsteps, and through the rain you can make out his figure, crouched at the end of the alley as you draw near. His eyes flash with suspicion and mistrust as they watch your every  move, and his hand reaches up toward the hilt of his weapon. 

Stopping a few feet away from him, you regard him with a friendly smile. “Hello there. You’re the Darknight Hero, I presume?”

There’s no reply. 

“I’m a Knight from the Ordo Favonius,” you continue with a sigh, and see his body tense at the mention of your occupation. “And I know you’re injured.”

There’s still no answer from him, but that does little to deter you.

“I have an Anemo Vision, and I can heal.” You gesture toward the glowing glass orb that’s clipped to your belt, and feel his gaze move toward it as well. “I, er, appreciate what you’ve been doing to keep the city safe, so I’d like to heal your injury for you, if that’s alright.”

You see his mouth part to decline your offer, and you hastily add, “I won’t ask about your identity, if that’s what you’re worried about!” You fidget with your fingers, watching his mouth close as he considers your offer. “...I just want to help.”

Another few seconds of silence fill the air before the man moves his hand from his shirt, angling his side toward you with a grunt. “...Make it fast.” He mutters, his voice slightly husky from the pain but still cool and pleasant to your ears. You hum in understanding, a small grin spreading on your lips as you move closer to heal the wound.

The wound isn’t too deep, you observe as you lower yourself onto your knees to reach it with your hands. It’s not exactly shallow either, though, and you can see small purple sparks leaping across the jagged edges of the severed flesh. “An electro-charged arrow?” you guess out loud as he lifts his shirt so you can get to the wound. 

“There was an electro hilichurl shooter,” he confirms, his ruby-red eyes watching you like a hawk as your hands hover over his side. You draw power from your Vision, waves of Anemo energy washing over the wound as you start closing the cut. You’re nowhere near as efficient as the Acting Grand Master, Jean, who also has an Anemo Vision, but your skills are adequate enough to heal a simple laceration.

“You should have been more careful.” The words slip out past your lips without your knowledge.

The man snaps back, indignation kindling within his eyes. “I was being careful! But this damned rain wasn’t letting me summon my flames, and that hilichurl shooter happened to have electro powers-” He breaks off like he’s not too sure why he’s explaining this to a random passerby.

“I must say, you’re quite sloppy, Mr. Darknight Hero.” You tease him with a small laugh, watching with amusement as his expression behind his mask becomes flustered, then angered, then confused once more. 

He settles for a glare after a moment of careful consideration. “Don’t call me that,” he mutters, earning another chuckle from you.

“All done, Mr. Darknight Hero.” You retract your hands from his side and rise to your feet. He looks down with an air of veiled surprise to see pale but seamless flesh stretching over what was once an arrow wound. “It shouldn’t hurt now, so you can be on your way before the guards come this way.”

He climbs to his feet at the mention of the guards, but his quizzical gaze remains on you. “You...you’re really not going to question me about my identity?” You shake your head, and he prompts you further. “Or my motives?”

“There’s no reason for me to,” you reply with a shrug. “If your identity gets out, you will be forced to cease your nightly excursions, and Barbatos knows how helpful you’ve been to Mond.” You pause briefly to flash him a smile. “I appreciate what you’ve done for this city, especially since the Knights are stretched so thin. So consider the healing I gave you to be an act of appreciation.”

The man stares at you as he processes your reply, his eyes wide. You use the moment to admire them once again, finding the swirling flames within them almost mesmerizing. 

“Then… thank you.” he finally says, catching you off guard. With renewed energy, he leaps onto the wall without warning and disappears into the night with a swish of his cloak, leaving you to stare after him with an expression of shock that eventually melts that of contentment.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Darknight Hero.” you call after him even though you know he’s already gone. A gentle smile graces your lips. “Perhaps I’ll see you again.” Warmth blossoms in your chest as you turn and head back the way you came- you’ll need to actually report the hero’s deed to the guards now.

As you walk through the alley, your boots sending droplets of water scattering for cover, the rain ceases to fall, and silence falls over Mondstadt once more.

[secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer]

Meet the Folks (Harry Styles x Indian!Reader)

A/N: This is my first time posting an imagine; please do leave reviews, it would help me get better.

Summary: Harry meets your parents for the first time.

”Can you stop being so jittery? They are not going to kill you” 

“Ya’ don’t know that, they might as well”, 

“H my parents are not going to murder you; they might hurt you, but homicide is not really their style”, you winked and let out a little laugh. 

“Can you like not joke right now? Y'know how important this it to both of us”, Harry said in a tense tone, sweat beads seen on his forehead as he ran his fingers through his hair.

You had been dating for about a year now, and only recently had you told your parents about your boyfriend. Truth is, you were scared of their reactions when telling them about your relationship with the Harry Styles.

You came from a modest background and recently earned your medical degree after several years of hard work and all-nighters. 

Meeting Harry was a complete accident, literally; he got into a minor car crash and was rushed into the hospital where you were doing your internship.

It was not a meet-cute, the complete opposite really, involving a lot of blood, injuries, and the horrible hospital smell.

But being with him gave you a joy that not many people could match. It wasn’t always easy, a large chunk of your relationship was long distance and involved a lot of late-night calls, video calling sessions, and if all that failed, the good ol’ texting.

There were times when communication seemed impossible amidst his chaotic life as a singer and your busy schedule being a surgeon. But you made it work, because nothing sounded better than hearing Harry’s voice through your phone after a really long day of work.

You kept your relationship low-key and Harry being the way he is, always managed to deflect the questions during interviews which somehow always circled back to you. You already had a busy life and didn’t need the added stress of hate on social media, so you avoided it completely. 

But there was always a little piece of you that feared the day you had to tell your parents about Harry. You weren’t ashamed of him. But this relationship with him wasn’t something your parents would understand. You get it, they are your parents and they worry about you, which makes this so much worse. Harry is always under a spotlight, his personal life doesn’t seem all that personal, and he is away on tour for most of the year.

It took you a long time to gain the courage and tell your parents about him; they were not happy. You had to grovel and basically emotionally manipulate them to convince them to at least give him a chance.

So, on a plain Friday evening, you two were driving to your hometown, both silently praying that you make it out alive.

————————————————————————

“Touch their feet and greet them with a namaste; don’t ever call them by their names, it’s extremely rude; call them Sir-Ma’am or Uncle-Aunty. Remove your shoes on the doorstep and don’t talk about drinking. At all. What else am I forgetting?” you counted on your fingers all the dos and don’ts of meeting Indian parents.

“Weren’t you supposed to be the cool one? You should be calming me down, it’s my head they’ll be coming for”, Harry’s frown deepened and he wiped his clammy palms on his jeans. So you tried to keep your nerves calm and decided to lighten the mood, seeing you fast approaching your place. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone touch even a strand of your hair. But seriously H, I know my parents mean a lot to me, but you’re also starting to really grow on me and no matter what happens tonight, you won’t be getting rid of me anytime soon”, this was the first time throughout the whole ride that you saw Harry’s frown disappear slightly and his shoulders relax.

Your mother opened the door and greeted you with a big smile and an even bigger hug; she then turned to Harry, who instantly dropped down to her feet, and shrieked ‘Namaste’. Her shoulders tensed up and she let out a little gasp, freaked by Harry’s sudden movements but when understood the situation, gave him her blessings.

You looked around your house, which hadn’t changed one bit since you moved out all those years ago. You could almost see a younger you running around this place, wearing your mother’s makeup and pretending to be Madhuri Dixit; you felt your lips curving upwards. 

Your parents didn’t want you moving out, saying it wasn’t your tradition. But you knew you wanted to see more of the world and figure out the life you wanted for yourself.

You sat down next to your dad on the sofa, who was watching the television and hadn’t even turned around to see you. You knew he was not the happiest with you being with Harry and you planned on changing that.

“So, this is the way you’re gonna be tonight? Not even going to say hello to your lovely daughter?” you smiled a little. Your dad turned to face you, his mouth set in a hard line and not even sparing a look at Harry who had been standing at the entrance of the room, “So you finally remember your old man? Thought you had forgotten me with the way you have been acting”.

“What are you talking about, you oaf? I visited you last weekend. I admit I haven’t been partaking in our nightly phone calls that often but that does not give you enough reason to be angry with me Papa,” your dad just rolled his eyes in response, “Now meet Harry, he has been really anxious about this meeting”, you gestured to Harry asking him to come forward and settle down on the couch in front of you.

Harry offered a meek namaste to your father who just grunted in response. “So, heard you just wrote an album about your ex-girlfriend?” your dad glared at him, daring him to offer an explanation. You felt a little weird, kind of embarrassed that this was your dad’s first question to your boyfriend.

Harry glanced at you for a second before calmly responding to your dad, “Sir, uhh my album is about the changes I went through as a person an’ like how my experiences have helped me grow from who I was a few years back, those moments just happen to involve a person I was with during those times. But I asked your daughter’s permission before making this album and wouldn’t have gone forward with it if she was uncomfortable at any point during the entire process. I really respect her and wanna make sure she is as much a part of this journey as I am”.

You could swear you almost had a few tears in your eyes, even your dad’s glare softened, not that he would show it to Harry. Harry sat up straighter and maintained eye contact with your father. He seemed more confident than he had been ever since you told him about this meeting.

Your dad cleared his throat, “you do give a good monologue, just make sure to be an even better partner to my daughter; if she ever comes to me crying because you hurt her, not even your god would be able to save you from my wrath”, he puffed out his chest, wanting to seem a little threatening.

Harry didn’t seem a bit fazed and just replied with a “You’ll never have to worry about that sir, I’m in love with your daughter and would rather die before letting anything happen to her”.

It was at this moment that your mother announced dinner. 

The rest of the night went pretty smoothly. Your parents asked Harry about his hometown and family and his life as a musician, actually making an effort to get to know him, he in turn asked them about your childhood stories. 

After dinner, Harry helped your mother wash the dishes, while you stayed back with your dad. “Thanks, Papa, for giving Harry a chance. I know it wasn’t easy for you considering he’s not, y’ know from our background. I really appreciate it.”

Your dad gave you a tight hug “I love you, Beta and I always want what’s best for you, even if it’s a white boy. I can see he really loves you, it’s hard not to. Just be careful, his world is way different than ours. Don’t let him make you do things you are not comfortable with and don’t let him take away your voice”, you could just give him a nod. You saw a slight sheen in your dad’s eyes. He hardly got emotional and so to see him be vulnerable, made you want to cry. 

Following your talk with your dad, you gave Harry a quick tour of your house, swiftly avoiding the more embarrassing nooks of your room.

It wasn’t long before you left your house, spending another half hour at the front door saying good byes.

The ride back home was mostly quiet; the radio playing the top 20 hits filled in the calm silence. 

You didn’t realise when you had drifted to sleep, but the last thing you remember is Harry humming along to a song and a quiet whisper, most definitely not meant for you to hear, “I can’t wait to marry you”.

[inviouswriting]

Alternative to that primal AU drabble

I can’t just leave it on a sad note.

The fight had been tiresome, the Extreme mission had given the WOL absolute hell with how she would cast her flames. 

However there was a flit in her power use, and something held back a devastating Despair. The new WOL Divinity, sensed that Mormo wasn’t alone in the body. A glimmer of hope, Divinity presses forward and closes her eyes as she uses her holy abilities.

The Libra spirit, had to try something. So she did.

“Kiya? Are you still there? If you are, use your ability transpose.” It took a few moments of fire for her to see it and a soft flit between fire to ice. Divinity smiles to herself.

“He misses you. If there is a way to come out of this, please. It doesn’t have to end with death.” She tries.

There is a falter in Mormo’s attacks. They diminish, as well as the form.

“But I summoned a Primal. Into myself... I’m no different than his father... He probably hates me for this...”  Kiya’s voice, her voice is soft and weakened. Almost fizzled out from the double echo of Mormo’s.

“Silence you! And you! She has made a cardinal sin in the eyes of the realm!” Mormo comments and throws another barrage of fire and ice. Divinity uses a barrier to keep the attacks down.

“Kiya, it can be like your friend Ysayle.  Aymeric does not hate you. He thinks you are gone, but far from hates you.” Divinity tries harder. She is reminded of Kivera when she went mad with grief. Divinity walks forward, and Kiya is on guard.

“He locked me in here for so long though... I sense him from time to time... outside the walls.” Kiya buries her face into her hands, and feels a sharp pain in her head.

Divinity casts a heal onto her, and Kiya looks over.

“Why are you healing me? You should kill me...”

“I can’t do that. Not with this silver lining granted to us.” Kiya feels another sharp pain in her head and doubles over onto her knees.

Divinity runs up to her, and sees a tiny urn that fell from inside Kiya’s coat. 

Divinity’s graceful smile, she thinks for a moment what her leader would do, then thinks of herself in what she wanted to do for Kivera when she was in so much pain. Dropping her healer staff, Divinity closes the distance and wraps her arms around Kiya’s huddled form.

The kindness reminded her of what she missed and needed. She started to cry, and feel the hold from Mormo slipping away. Holding Kiya close, Divinity murmurs something, and expels Mormo out, with quick work. Divinity seals the entity away. 

With Mormo out, Divinity feels the overwhelming power dissipate. With it, Kiya collapses to her knees fully, drained of her energy. But the most she is doing, Kiya is crying full into Divinity’s chest, something she hadn’t felt in years. 

“Ah... shh. It’s over now.” Divinity pets her head, in the same manner Kivera did for her when she was on the pyre.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! Forgive me! Aymeric!! I... Aymeric!! You’re all I have!” Divinity looks over to one of the Temple Knights that accompanied her.

“I think the threat has been neutralized. No blood was spilled today, I think she can go home.” A furious nod, and Divinity just pets Kiya’s head. She notes that with the powers gone it had left her bare. Divinity removes the white cloak from around herself and covers Kiya with it and helps steady her on her feet.

“Hey, hey. We should get you home now?” Divinity earns a nod from Kiya.

They slowly walk till Divinity has Kiya cling to her back. At the entrance to Dusk Vigil, Aymeric sees the two, he had been pacing from the time Divinity went in, he felt the power shift, then fizzle out. He was expecting a dead body to be carried out. Not one clinging to Divinity’s back.

Aymeric looks over Divinity, and then to Kiya. His love is refusing to look him in the eye, burying her face into the white of Divinity’s hair.

“Come now Kiya, do you not have something to say to him? You were crying it into my chest earlier.” Aymeric is hopeful with the address of his love’s name. When he sees Kiya lift her head up, a sense of relief hits him. Her mannerisms the same as he always knew. Whenever she was guilty, she always looked to the side.

“A-Aymeric... I’m sorry! I should have come to you... I’m sorry.” Aymeric is already at her side once he was certain it is his lover and not a demon in her body.

He is pulling her from Divinity’s back and into his arms, collapsing onto his knees with her held tight.

“Godsdamn you! Halone! By the Fury! Kiya! I thought... you were going to die.. and I had ordered it!” Aymeric holds her so tight to him Kiya realizes she had made such a horrible mistake.

“Will you forgive me.... I can understand... if you hate me for this...” Aymeric pulls her back in his arms and gives her a glare. Aymeric has her head in her hands as he presses his forehead to hers.

“My love! MY Love! Hate you? Halone be praised.. you are returned to me. I will never forgive you for what you did. However... will take all of the rest of our lives together to make it up to me. Understand? No adventures for three years. Staying with me.” Kiya can’t look away from him, and feels hot tears spill from her eyes, as well as see them out of his.

“Y-yes Aymeric.”

“Yes, Lord Commander.” He corrects her for right now.

“Yes, Lord Commander!” His face softens after she agrees, and winds his arms around her and gives her a deep kiss. One that has her head spinning, and Divinity looking away. 

Aymeric breaks the kiss and lifts his wife up into his arms. A newer knight approaches them.

“S-ser Aymeric, what do we do about her? aren’t you worried she is Enthralled? or playing a trick?”

“She is not playing a trick. Mormo was expelled, I felt and saw it myself.” Divinity counters before Kiya’s name can be dragged. He is also met with a stare from Aymeric. He clearly does not want to discuss what happened.

“Let us count our blessings. My warrior of light has returned. I do not wish to hear anyone speak ill of her in my presence. I might lose mine temper.” He warns, turning on his heels he carries Kiya out of the frozen place. Leaving Divinity to collect herself.

The days after, Kiya was on strict bedrest for observation as well as resting from the last few years did a number on her body with little eating it did. 

Kiya had a nightly visitor in Aymeric, sleeping next to her, specially the first night he brought her back not leaving her side once. Kiya got more of an earful from him when she was a little bit better. Even Estinien showed up leaving behind flowers in the vase.

Kiya lays on her back, thinking of what went awry with her spell. She feels a flick on her forehead drawing her out of her thoughts and she sees Aymeric’s firm eyes staring at her.

“I know that look. Do not dwell on what happened.” He was in the middle of washing her up, and saw how her eyes drifted off into almost another world, when she thinks of her past, or when she would do something stupid.

“Yes love.” Aymeric feels nothing but relief in his heart, having her back. He doesn’t know what he would have done if her body was brought. Besides mourn and think of all the dreams shattered.

Aymeric lays in next to her after she is dressed in fresh robes. He noted she has color in her face again.

“You look much better. You might be able to come home with me in a few more days.”

“Really?” She earns a nod from him.

“I can’t wait.. I am getting tired of this ceiling to stare at.”

“Oh? Then why not stare at me instead.” Aymeric gets her attention again, a blush on her face.

“Because you know I can’t stare at you for too long.” 

Aymeric shakes his head, and tugs her into his arms.

“I really thought I was going to lose you. All of you. When I first got word you had summoned a Primal. I thought they were joking until I saw it. You looked nothing like yourself. I did not feel you in there.. I rather had, have you die before I allowed a monster to take over you.” He voices his concerns and his feelings, Kiya’s eyes spring tears at the memory.

“To be honest... I felt consumed, I vaguely understand what Estinien went through with Nidhogg… Different circumstances. And Nidhogg was no primal. All I wanted to do... was be more helpful in the fights to come.” Aymeric pulls her back to look at her again.

“And I told you to leave the fighting to us for the time being while you rested. Had I known what happened.. I would have never left your side. You should have written me. Talked to me. Like you always did. What made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me? Your husband, your soulbound mate.” 

“I did not want to burden you with more...” Kiya is pulled into his arms tight again.

“Godsdamn you... You are never a burden. You were never one when you came to me after Haurchefant, then when you came to me after Azys Lla, and every person you had lost. You would never burden me with your pain. Tis why we made our vows eternal. I am to be your shoulder, your hand, your solace. Just as you are mine.” Aymeric feels her shuddering in crying again. She needed him more than ever.

“I’m sorry....”

“Kiya, all will be fine. But you, you need real rest.” Aymeric helps rest her down on her back. He fits in next to her, and tugs her as close as she gets into his arms till she relaxes.

They entwine their hands together, Aymeric pressing kisses to her fingers till each one has been kissed. He even presses his face to her hair to breathe in her scent. Something he had missed in his own bed terribly.

“Rest now.. we have much to discuss later.” He lulls Kiya into slumber and thanks the stars now with how she was spared a needless death.

[everythingharrypotterblog]

Red Lips and Creamy Thighs (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Summary: Y/N is a carefree flapper in the Roaring 20s and dances regularly at the speakeasy The Bling Pig. Newt is merely passing through the city and eager to leave when suddenly the sight of a young dancer ties him down slightly to New York City.

A/N: Sorry if I did some history errors, I researched the 20s but not in depth. Plus I’m Canadian so I know nothing of American history to begin with 😊

“Y/N! I dare say your lipstick looks mighty fine today.”

“Why thank you Eileen and I see it is certainly not me who did that eyeliner on your eyes, it is too smoothly drawn!”

Y/N chuckled back at her friends while she laid back in her chair and watched herself take a puff of cigarette in the mirror surrounded by golden lights.

She was a flapper and a dancer. Once upon a time, Y/N grew up in a tight household where she was the youngest of five children, and the only girl. All her brothers were either into MACUSA or further magical education once they hit age 18. When it became her turn however, her parents told her she was to go nowhere but into a husband’s arms.

“You are to be married to a nice rich man who will take care of you.”

“But mom I want to study Magizoology!”

“Magizoology? Pff where is a young girl going to end up in a field like that? That is barely a job at the moment, and even less a WOMAN’s job.”

And so she fled, and ended up into the streets where she was fortunate enough that nothing bad has happened to her. Instead she started frequenting jazz clubs and speakeasys and got noticeable attention from young wizards. She started to dance a lot at the Bling Pig and would watch the nightly flapper performances. She soon caught the attention of Gnarlak, the pub owner and earned a spot in the dance team. Five years later and still looking 18, she became lead dancer at the club thanks to her avant-garde choreography.

“Hey Y/N, would you mind showing me the steps again to the foxtrot again?”

“Of course!” Y/N took a last swig of whiskey before hopping up from her chair.

Y/N moved with ease, dance coming naturally to her. She had been able to boost the business at the Blind Pig considerably with her skills in choreography, offering the customers combos never seen before.

“Wow, I still won’t get over how you can think of that!” The young dancer told Y/N.

“Thank you darling, you just have to think :”what has nobody done before?”

“Y/N!” The sly raspy voice of Gnarlak rang from the bottom of the stairs.

“Coming!” Y/N said, running down the stairs which led to the stage on the main floor below the dressing rooms.

“Hope you have something new tonight, the regulars are getting bored.”

“Oh don’t you worry sir, I’ve got something planned.”

“Good. Now get ready, it’s almost 9. Make me some money, girl.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as she clambered up the stairs.

Flappers were very often looked at as whores, who wore makeup and showed nothing but skin. But in reality, they were more than promiscuous jazz dancers. They were feminists. All of Y/N’s fellow dancer friends were women who longed for equality and the disappearance of misogyny. They shortened their dresses, for who were men to say that they couldn’t show their calves on a hot day when they walked around in shorts? They smoke and drank, for who were men to say that they were the only ones who earned a little break? They were loud, confident and sexy, for they were far too far in history to just be wallflowers and do what they’re told in silence.

“Girls!” Y/N gathered up her group of friends. “’Lizabeth, are you drunk again?”

“Noooo.”

“Whatever, you still dance equally as well luckily for you. Anyway, so goblin-face told us to spice things up for the old customers. Let’s put on our costumes and see what we can do.”

The girls undressed from their daywear and put on their shiny sequined dresses, the sight of fringe shaking around everywhere.

“Hmm.” Y/N looked. The dresses arrived mid-calf, which was already pretty scandalous. She grabbed a pair of scissors and cut through the dress of one of the girls, so the hem arrived mid-thigh.

“Ooh I like it!” Exclaimed one of the girls.

And so the half a dozen girls grabbed scissors and tailored their dresses.

“I like how it looks very much.” Said one, winking and lifting her leg so it rolled up and exposed more thigh.

“GIRLS GET READY!”

This was Y/N’s favourite part apart from the show of course. The getting ready and the goofing off with her friends whom she called sisters. They did each other’s makeup, told stories of their mysterious lovers from the night before… Y/N didn’t have any to share but listened. After each “performance”, she would of course asked to dance by a gentleman along with the rest of her friends, but she did not go home with any of them.

+

“Oh c’mon Newt, it’s time we had a little fun.” Queenie clapped.

“Yeah, a wizard bar? I fancy what that’s like.” Jacob said, already tying up one of his shoes with a pastry in one hand.

“Look Newt, not even I like to indulge, but the Blind Pig is quite some fun.” Tina said.

“It’s dark, and jazzy and great for meeting strangers.” Queenie winked but pouted slightly when she still didn’t see Newt nodding to her idea. “Oh come on we only have one more creature to find! It can wait a night.” And then she whispered, “I bet he’d like the flappers.” closely to Tina’s ear which made her chuckle.

Before he knew it, the quartet were changed into evening wear and out the door. They were soon face to a poster with a red-headed lady and the words “Enchanting, beguiling, alluring” written on the bottom.

Queenie knocked and the poster separated and revealed a dark pub. They walked right in before the singer stopped and announced some dance number.

Soon, the dance floor cleared and a round of applause broke out, especially from male clientele, Newt noticed.

He felt a hand force his shoulder down into a seat and the man sat beside me.

“You look like a lonely fella. You won’t want to miss this then, trust me.”

Newt raised his eyebrows and turned his focus back to the dance floor.

The girls one by one descended the staircase onto the center of the pub, heavy fur coats on. Y/N followed behind without a coat, hidden behind her friends.

“break a leg ladies” she whispered behind them as the music started playing.

It was a slow sultry jazz song that began, sung by the woman-creature. The girls started slowly moving, together forming a big bundle of white fur with their boats.

Newt merely contemplated lightly, not finding a bunch of girls moving suggestively very interesting. Until, she came out.

The music suddenly changed and the ladies shimmied off their coats and kneeled down, revealing Y/N.

They carried on dancing popular dances with a sensual twist. They shimmied, hopped, shook their hips. The whole time, Newt was completely entranced by the lead dancer who seemed to stand out a lot, at least to him. Everything about her was perfectly sculpted; the way her face was designed, her deep red lips he would kill to kiss and bite, her sharp eyes fluttering under a bird’s wing like set of eyelashes, her velvety smooth thighs… he looked at every detail in close, and her entire body as a whole. How it moved, swayed. How her waist would look when she put her hands on her hips. Her red as blood lipstick. Her smooth as cream thighs…

For the first time in his life, Newt felt this weird animalistic desire in him. It resided deep inside his abdomen and all he could think of was her flesh and his lust to feel it.

Queenie sitting beside, looked at him astonished. She didn’t imagine Newt having such thoughts, but she liked this side of her friend and decided to give him a little helping hand. She excused herself from Jacob and wandered to Newt’s table.

“Fancy any of them?” She winked.

Newt blushed a deep red and didn’t respond. His focus remained on Y/N who’s skirt was now clutched in her hands so it revealed her quick feet, and even higher up of her thighs.

“She is lovely. She moves like a bird.” Queenie commented. She turned around and got two drinks and gave them to Newt. “for the nerves.” She said. “You know, when you ask her to dance once the performance was over.”

“I-I’m not going to ask-“

“You should, or someone’ll beat ya to it.” The man beside him suggested. “Suppose Y/N’s the one you’re staring at. The one in the middle with the hella beautiful red lips?”

Newt nodded shyly.

“Yeh after the show men just throw themselves at her. Well at all of them actually, but mostly at her.”

The Magizoologist’s gaze went back on her who was laughing a sexy laugh. He brought his cup to his lips and took a couple gulps.

Too soon to his opinion, the show ended and the singer came back and started singing as people stood up to dance. He saw indeed that men would go towards the fringe-covered girls and buy them drinks. He wasn’t too sure how to feel about this Y/N, for she was gorgeous but he could assume the reputation flappers had. To him, and most foreigners, they looked like young girls dancing and drinking their days away, and seducing their nights away. He pushed that possibility of Y/N out of his mind and could not deny that he was extremely attracted to her nevertheless.

Y/N cheered and down a shot with her friends.

“Amazing tonight ladies.” Her friend said.

“Hear hear!” Another cried out, before being led to the dance floor by a black-haired gentleman.

Y/N watched her friends get picked up by men one-by-one and sighed. There were cons to her life as a flapper, true, but it was way better than being a housemaid. It was fun. Just then she saw a man with honey curly locks looking at her from a table at the far end.

He seemed…different from the usual customers she usually saw. He seemed innocent, and almost kind. He was neatly dressed in a blue coat and a yellow scarf she didn’t recognize.

She decided to go toward him.

Newt was still admiring Y/N when slowly her figure drew bigger and bigger and before he could escape, he realised she was coming right at him.

“Hello sir.” She said, accepting a seat from the three men who stood up for her.

Her voice was fruity and playful, and words seemed to ooze off her tongue slowly. Everything about her screamed sex appeal. But the thing was, she acted in no way suggestively to give off that impression.

“Please, call me Newt.” He said, confidence slowly rising inside him from the influence of alcohol.

“Newt. That’s now a name I hear every day.”

“And yours is?”

“Y/N.”

Newt watched her say it, in a way a rose would say it was a rose.

They resumed with small talk, a bit of where are you from, and this and that but nothing too in depth. Eventually Newt grew tired of conversing and felt the urge to touch her again. He stood up and offered her his arm and went onto the dance floor.

“I must warn you, I am terrible at dancing.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Newt, I think it’s cute.” Y/N winked.

Newt soaked in the feeling of the sound of his name in her voice, for this may be the last time he saw this girl. They danced and danced and laughed and drank and laughed some more. Newt’s eyes the entire night were turned in one direction only.

The night closing in and the pub emptying, it was finally time to go. Y/N watched her friends follow their newly acquired men home.

“Well it was pleasure meeting you Y/N. You are a delight.”

“Wait, you’re not asking me back to your room?” Y/N looked at him in stupor. Never once did a man dance with Y/N to not want her in his bed the next day.

Newt misinterpreted this. He sighed to himself.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know you are a beautiful lady and are young and go home with a guy each night but I’m just erm not that kind of guy.” He felt bad for her really, and longed to see her again if it weren’t for this promiscuity.

“I beg your pardon?” Y/N practically shrieked. So he thought she was a whore then? Wouldn’t be the first time. But still, she thought he was different.

“I’m really really sorry, Y/N. I genuinely don’t want take you home with me. I see you’re mad at that-“

“And I see you willfully misunderstand me. Good night.” Y/N stormed off.

How dare he think all she wanted was to sleep with him?

Newt stood aghast. All he was trying to do was help her, why did she get so mad at him? He tried to shrug it off for he probably wouldn’t see her ever again. Yet his body told his mind otherwise, for it yearned for those creamy thighs and red lips.

PART TWO TO COME IF YOU WANT

[ddaengsopemin]

All That Was Lost

1 - The Beginning

Pairing: Reader x Taehyung x Namjoon x Jimin

Genre: Vampire!AU (Angst, Violence & blood mention)

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: This is just setting up the backstories, and the characters. I apologize if it is a little slow. This chapter is mostly dealing with the relationship between OC, Taehyung, and Jimin. Joonie will have a bigger role in future chapters. I have more planned for it if you all want me to continue! Let me know! (:

You giggle as you skip down the long corridor of the skyscraper you have called home for the past decade of your life; more appropriately, your afterlife. You moved to Seoul after you, unfortunately, bumped into Kim Taehyung your senior year in college. Your feet lightly tapped along the glossy floors as your nails glided along the cemented wall. Any more force applied by your delicate fingers would cause lines along the walls with chips of cement on the floor in their path. That would surely piss his majesty off... You mused with a sinister smile.

Living with the famous Taehyung did have its upsides. He was a wealthy CEO of a gaming company that he had built from the ground up. He had spent tons of years pining over his company, working himself to the bone until he was in his mid 100s when it finally took off. Now at the ripe age of 190, he doesn’t have to lift a finger aside from signing papers that his many secretaries, in awfully short skirts who were annoying always trying to impress him you might add, whisk in and out of his office all day. He owned the entire building you lived in, you even had a whole floor to yourself. From the lowest floor in the basement to the penthouse suite was all his.

The lobby to the 25th floor was all office space. Filled with workers thinking up the next big game, kids pulled off the streets to test out those games in comfortable plush gaming chairs that consumed their senses, casting them into the atmosphere of whatever world Taehyung wanted them to be in. Taehyung’s office was in the middle of all the chaos on the 15th floor. When you questioned him on why he didn’t have his office on a more luxurious floor, “Because I need to be in the middle of it all.” He answered. After that, he turned to his computer as if that would suffice. You questioned him about the whos, whats, whys, and hows for another 30 minutes before he lost his patience and kicked you out of his office. Hollering about how he can’t get any work done with you there. That was the first time you realized exactly how much strength you had acquired and nearly tore the door off the hinges. It took Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend and partner in crime, almost two hours to get you to calm down and stop breaking things. The 26th floor and up were for tenants. Some of you were there due to special, unbreakable connections, and some wealthy CEOs that liked the convenience of living downtown in the middle of everything. You wondered if they knew about you, and the rest of the clan. If they did know, they hid it rather well.

You took the elevator down to the 15th floor, two rights and a left, you pass by three offices. Yoongi’s, Jungkook and Jin’s, and Jimin’s, AKA Taehyung’s arms and legs. Jungkook and Jin were brothers, and both had their degrees in computer graphics. It creeped you out how two brothers could be so close, and spend all their time together. They were the newest members of the team, so you didn’t know much about them. From what you did know, they were absolute children. Roughhousing all day and night, their office had every wall space possible filled with posters and figures from their favorite animes and games. Taehyung had plucked them out of a gaming center where they were spinning their tires trying to get things done for a company that was only running itself into the ground. Yoongi was found in a club downtown, desperately trying to sell his tracks that he had made in his small apartment that he could barely afford. Taehyung purchased one off of him out of pity but ended up returning to the man to offer him a job as the music coordinator and producer after listening to the first track. Yoongi has been here ever since, remaining completely loyal to Taehyung. He was rather quiet and standoff-ish. You had tried to make conversation with him at the last staff party, only to be met with grunts of ‘yes’ and ‘no’. You left him alone in the dark corner once you got bored and knew you were getting nowhere fast. Jimin has been at Taehyung’s side ever since they were kids, so it is no surprise that he earned the title of Vice President and the second biggest office to go along with that. Jimin was fun to play with, he was extremely flirty and knew how to press all the right buttons. It was like a game to you to get him all riled up only to leave him high and dry, but you knew he didn’t mind. After all, he did live on the floor above yours and was able to get his revenge in more than one way. You poked your head into Jimin’s office to offer him a hello, and a wriggle of your eyebrows. You leaned over just enough through the doorway to offer him a little peek into your tight-fitting black dress, his head popped up from the piles of paperwork in front of him to offer you a wicked smile. As soon as he began to push back from his desk you closed his door and flitted down the hallway earning a loud “Hey!” From the other side of his door. You laughed loudly as you made your way to Taehyung’s office. You knocked lightly and opened the door. Finding him exactly where you knew you would, sitting in front of his computer screen, glasses hanging halfway down his nose, 30 pages deep into the proposal for his next game.

There was no flaw on Taehyung. His golden brown hair hung lightly over his forehead, his red turtleneck and tight fitting slacks made every muscle in his body stand out as if he were flexing at all times. Even you were amazed at how he could look so good, and you cursed yourself for thinking that. He acted as if you were the gum stuck to the bottom of his Gucci shoes, but that didn’t change the fact that he was breathtaking.

You sauntered into his office and looked over his shoulder at what he was reading. You rolled your eyes when he hadn’t even made the attempt you acknowledge your presence. You weren’t sure if he hadn’t noticed you come in, or if he were doing it on purpose. You pulled his chair away from the desk and plopped yourself into his lap, crossing your legs over the armrest and leaning your back against his forearm. He took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes as you carded your hand through his hair, moving to graze your long nails along his jawline when you were done.

“Spare a little bit of time for me?” You said, looking up at him as innocently as you could.

“No.” He said curtly, fire forming in his irises.

“Well then,” you said as you swung your legs over to place them on the floor between his feet. Making a spectacle of the way your dress perfectly formed to your curves as you rolled yourself off of his lap. “You don’t have to be such a jerk. It’s not like I haven’t seen you in a week or anything. I guess I’ll just go play with Jimin.” You said as you made your way to the door of his office.

“Yeah, yeah.” He dismissed. Returning to his place in front of his computer screen.

You rolled your eyes and huffed as you slammed the door behind you. You had no idea why Taehyung had chosen to turn you all those years ago. He was an asshole then, and he is an asshole now. But for some reason, you were drawn to him as if there were bungee chords tied around your wrists to his. Every time you tried to run, they would snap you back into place at his side. You don’t remember much about that night, or your life before it. Bits and pieces flash along your sight when you’re in your room late at night, with your knees pulled to your chest. Crying yourself to sleep had become a nightly thing. During the day, you portrayed yourself to be strong and confident in your new life, but at night you felt like the world was crashing down around you. You tried so hard to remember your parents, your friends, your classes, daily life, anything! But no matter how hard you tried you were only greeted with the night you met Taehyung, and scenes of your life that made no sense. You were the only woman Taehyung had ever turned, and the question as to why remains a mystery even to Jimin.

The events of that night rolled through your conscious. You were sitting at a bar by yourself, no, were you by yourself? Did you have any friends there with you? You pound your palms on your head as if that would help you remember who you were with that night. The next thing you remember was firm hands wrapped around your center, dragging you out of the back exit of the club. You were thrown against a wall, your head cracking against the bricks. You winced as you remembered the feeling blood trickling down your forehead and into your eyes.

“Do you know how good you smell?” The man in front of you, who you now know as Taehyung, inhaled deeply next to the shell of your ear. Slamming his hands into the wall behind you, trapping you between his body and the wall. You whimpered in response and that is when everything went black.

You woke up, what felt like, months later dirty and on the ground. Taehyung had left you for dead in some deserted alleyway far away from the place you had originally called home. Your head was pounding and all the sounds and lights were overwhelming your senses. You could hear people from 5 blocks away laughing and going about their daily lives. Your nose could pick up even the slightest of smells, but overall you were thirsty. It felt like there was a fire burning in your throat and lungs, but you couldn’t do anything to quench it.

“What did he do to me?!” You screeched, but no one heard you. You felt alone and lost. Jimin found you days later, on the verge of death, curled up on the ground shivering and crying. Your fingernails were filled with the dirt that you had been clawing at, digging a deep hole in the ground in the shape of your hand.

“Goddamnit. What has he done?” Jimin mumbled as he picked you up, and whisked you to the place you now call home. Now that you think about it, Jimin has been the only one to show you any kindness in this hell hole.

You leaned up against his closed door, holding your head in your hands. Taking deep breaths in through your nose, out through your mouth. Attempting to stop the oncoming anxiety attack. It was the click of a door that had you standing faster than any human eye could pick up, and dragged you away from your helpless thoughts. You shot your sights in the direction of the sound, only to see Jimin coming from his office and turning to walk down the hall.

You were at his side in the blink of an eye and turned on your heel to stop him in his tracks. With your hands behind your back, you bent over to catch his gaze taking his attention off the floor and onto you.

“Just the person I was looking for.” You grinned, your fangs on full display for him to see. “Would you like to join me in taking a trip to the basement?”

Jimin looked at you and mused before checking his watch. “Yeah, I guess it is time for some lunch. After you.” He held out his hand, gesturing for you to link your arm with his as you made your way down to the basement.

The trip to the third floor of the basement was filled with you and Jimin laughing and picking on each other. You listened to the muffled comments of employees walking down the hallway, giggling to each other about how cute Jimin was. How jealous they were of you because you got to spend so much time with him and Taehyung. You giggled and rolled your eyes, and Jimin mimicked your sentiment. 

“You know, I really do not see how they find you so cute.” You teased as you elbowed Jimin’s side. 

“Listen, kid, I’m 50 years older than you and if you think I am going to stand to be talked down to like this you’ve got Another. Thing. Coming.” Jimin giggled as he poked your nose as if to emphasize each word.

You stuck your tongue out at him as you entered the elevator and rapidly pressed the button so the doors would close before Jimin could enter. Unfortunately for you, he was much faster and was standing behind you before you could get the doors closed. He laughed as he reached over your shoulder to press the button of the appropriate floor.

Your mouth started watering, and that all too familiar flame started spreading through your chest at the scent that you could already feel consuming your being. Jimin placed a hand on your lower back to keep you grounded. While you had been a vampire for a decade already, that is still considered a newborn in their books. It would be awhile before you could learn to fully control yourself when you are thirsty.

The elevator chimed signaling your arrival, and you latched onto Jimin’s hand. Already feeling the tingling in your legs to bolt down the hallway and latch onto the first unfortunate being to cross your path. If Jimin hadn’t been immortal, you would have broken every bone in his hand by now.

As you both walked hand in hand down the corridors that lead to a wide and grand ballroom, your sensitive ears picked up on the hushed voices coming from the middle of the room. You could feel their emotions; fear, excitement, but overall anxiety.

While Taehyung basked in the rush that was hunting and killing his prey as they screamed for him to let them go; You, Jimin, and Yoongi were the exact opposite. The three of you never dared to get in Taehyung’s way or object to his style, preferring to set up this space for those willing to part with the precious liquid flowing through their veins. They were paid handsomely as long as they performed their duties as expected, and didn’t die of course. If an accident like that were to happen, their families were paid a sum of money and given an excuse as to why their loved one was sent to their early grave.

All of your guests in the ballroom were bickering amongst themselves at who they thought would be lucky enough to be chosen by the infamous vampires. Their eyes practically bugged out of their heads, and their mouths hung open at the sight of yours and Jimin’s arrival. While Jimin could sense your anxiety, and you knew he did by the way he lightly rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, all they saw was how regal you both looked.

You took your seats at the top of the stairs, overlooking the line of people below. You took in each and every one of their features, going from person to person. Men, women, all varying in age. As you honed in on one, the emotions and scents of the others almost disappeared. It was when your attention turned to the next person in line that the blood ran cold in your veins, and you froze still as marble when your eyes came across one man you seemed to recognize. You didn’t know where, you didn’t know how, but every fiber in your being told you; you were connected to his man. Your hairs stood on edge as you leaned forward in your seat to get a better look at him.

Jimin looked towards you, clasping a firm grip on your shoulder. “Hey, Y/N, are you okay? What is wrong?” You brushed his hand off your shoulder as you began to stand. “I know him...” You whispered as you took a trembling step towards him.

“Y/N! No!” Jimin yelled, but it was too late. You bolted into the line of prospective donors, slamming the man into the wall with your forearm on his neck. He clawed at your arm as his eyes danced trying to come to terms with what was happening.

“Who are you?!” You defeningly yelled. The rest of the group ran for the doors to make their escape before the same thing could happen to them, but you paid them no attention as you could only focus on the man before you.

“Y/N..” The man croaked, his eyes wide with the realization of who you were. “Y/N...It’s me....”

“If I knew who you were, I wouldn’t be asking you now would I?” You snarled.

Jimin sighed as he stood up making his way towards you. Prying you from the man before you strangled him to death.

“It’s me, it’s me,” You scoffed, mimicking the man now crumpled on the ground. “Tell me who you are, now. Before I drain every drop of blood from your body.” You demanded with a finger pointed towards his face as Jimin rubbed your shoulders, knowing full and well by now how to calm you down.

“I’m Namjoon, Y/N, Namjoon. Your fiance.”

You stood frozen and shocked. “No, no. I don’t believe you. Stop lying to me!” You sobbed as you turned into Jimin’s open arms.

“Please.” Namjoon pleaded as he got to his feet. “Please Y/N. Believe me. You have no idea how long and how hard I have been searching for you.” He took a step toward you with outstretched arms. Retracting immediately when Jimin shook his head at him.

“Tell me, then. Tell me what you know about me. Tell me about my past. ” You said. Still snuggled into the protective barrier that was Jimin. “Make me believe that you know me.”

“I can do that.” Namjoon nodded.

[tipsycad147]

Gemini May World Dracula Day

By shirleytwofeathers

May 26 is World Dracula Day which commemorates Bram Stoker’s Gothic horror novel Dracula, which was first published on May 26 in 1897, by Archibald Constable and Company in Britain. It sold for six shillings and came bound in yellow cloth with red lettering. It was first printed in the United States two years later, by Doubleday & McClure of New York City. Although not the first novel about vampires, it became a model for the genre, and laid the foundation for future vampire stories, with its introduction of the character Count Dracula.

The quintessential vampire, Count Dracula has inspired tens of films and stories the world over, not to mention the virtual immortality of the character during as a beloved Halloween character. For all of these reasons, it’s undeniable that this icon of horror more than deserves his own little holiday so the world can show its appreciation for his contributions to the worlds of cinema and literature over the centuries. So put on your fangs, and let’s sink out teeth right into this, shall we?

About The Book

The book follows (spoiler alert!) an English lawyer named Jonathan Harker as he travels to Transylvania to meet Count Dracula at his castle, Castle Dracula. To Harker, Dracula appears pale and off-kilter. The strangeness of Dracula is more apparent after he lunges at Harker’s throat after Harker cuts himself while shaving. Harker eventually finds out that Dracula is a vampire who needs to drink human blood to survive. Afterward, Dracula locks Harker in the castle and flees to England with 50 boxes of dirt (it is believed he needs dirt from his home country to stay healthy). As Dracula heads to England to search for new blood, Harker eventually escapes from the castle.

Meanwhile, Mina, Harker’s fiancée, is visiting her friend Lucy in England. One night, Mina finds Lucy sleepwalking by a graveyard. Mina believes she sees a creature hovering over Lucy for a moment, and then notices two red marks on Lucy’s neck. Lucy becomes sick over the next few days and is then cared for by a Dr. Seward and by Dr. Abraham Van Helsing, before eventually dying. Afterward, strange reports begin surfacing that a creature has been attacking children in the area.

Jonathan Harker and Mina are reunited and married. Harker tells Dr. Helsing about his experience with Dracula, and Helsing then believes Lucy contracted vampirism from him and is the one attacking children. They dig up her corpse, cut off her head, put a stake through her heart, and stuff her mouth with garlic. They then turn their focus to Dracula and try to destroy his boxes of dirt. He escapes back to Transylvania, where they find him buried in the last box of dirt. They cut off his head and stab him through the heart, causing him to collapse into dust.

The Origins Of Dracula

Stoker spent years researching vampires before writing Dracula. During that time, he was particularly influenced by “Transylvanian Superstitions,” an essay by Emily Gerard that was published in 1885. Stoker worked at the Lyceum Theatre in London from 1878 to 1898. The theater was headed by Henry Irving, who Stoker based Dracula’s mannerisms on. It was even Stoker’s hope that Irving would play Dracula in a stage adaptation, but it did not happen.

According to one theory, Prince Vlad III of Wallachia (Romania) was the real-life inspiration behind Stoker’s gothic horror novel. An extremely cruel and merciless ruler, Vlad earned the nickname “Vlad the Impaler” for the many ways he tortured his opponents as well as people who betrayed him when they were captured. As can be guessed from his nickname, impaling was his favourite method of execution, and it is thought that he killed up to 100,000 people during his reign, and was infamous for the “forests” of impaled victims he left behind when he won a battle. One unsubstantiated account says that he dipped bread in his victims’ blood and ate it in front of them as they died on stakes.

Born in Transylvania in the fifteenth century, he was also called Drăculea, which means “Son of Dracul.” Indeed, his father was known as Dracul, a name that derived from the knightly order he belonged to—the Order of the Dragon (the Latin word draco means dragon). In modern Romanian, drac means “devil.”

It is believed that Stoker picked the name Dracula after learning this more modern translation. Some believe that the only connection between Vlad III and Dracula are their names. The connection of his character with vampirism was made by Bram Stoker around the 1890’s, and has become a permanent element of pop culture since then.

What does it mean?

Dracula has been interpreted in numerous ways. Some have interpreted the story as an allegory of the fear that western Europeans had of eastern Europeans coming into their area. Hence, the story of someone coming from Transylvania—in Romania—to London and wreaking havoc on its residents. This theme appeared in other novels of the time.

Some have seen the book as a reaction to the conservative and patriarchal norms of the Victorian period, and as an exploration of suppressed sexual desire. Some also have seen the book as being about the relationship between the past and future, with Dracula symbolising a primitive past that challenges modernity.

The Historical Vampire

The concept of vampirism dates back thousands of years. The ancient Greeks, Hebrews, Egyptians and Babylonians all had legends telling hair-raising tales of demon-like undead creatures that lived off of the blood of the living.

Tales of the undead consuming the blood or flesh of living beings have been found in nearly every culture around the world for many centuries. Today we know these entities predominantly as vampires, but in ancient times, the term vampire did not exist; blood drinking and similar activities were attributed to demons or spirits who would eat flesh and drink blood; even the devil was considered synonymous with the vampire.

Almost every nation has associated blood drinking with some kind of revenant or demon, from the ghouls of Arabia to the goddess Sekhmet of Egypt. Indeed, some of these legends could have given rise to the European folklore, though they are not strictly considered vampires by historians when using today’s definitions.

Hebrews, ancient Greeks, and Romans had tales of demonic entities and blood-drinking spirits which are considered precursors to modern vampires. Despite the occurrence of vampire-like creatures in these ancient civilisations, the folklore for the entity we know today as the vampire originates almost exclusively from early 18th-century Southeastern Europe, particularly Transylvania as verbal traditions of many ethnic groups of the region were recorded and published. In most cases, vampires are revenants of evil beings, suicide victims, or witches, but can also be created by a malevolent spirit possessing a corpse or by being bitten by a vampire itself. Belief in such legends became so rife that in some areas it caused mass hysteria and even public executions of people believed to be vampires.

In India, tales of vetalas, ghoul-like beings that inhabit corpses, are found in old Sanskrit folklore. Although most vetala legends have been compiled in the Baital Pachisi, a prominent story in the Kathasaritsagara tells of King Vikramāditya and his nightly quests to capture an elusive one. The vetala is described as an undead creature who, like the bat associated with modern-day vampirism, hangs upside down on trees found on cremation grounds and cemeteries. Pishacha, the returned spirits of evil-doers or those who died insane, also bear vampiric attributes.

The Hebrew word “Alukah” (literal translation is “leech”) is synonymous with vampirism or vampires, as is “Motetz Dam” (literally, “blood sucker”). Later vampire traditions appear among diaspora Jews in Central Europe, in particular the medieval interpretation of Lilith. In common with vampires, this version of Lilith was held to be able to transform herself into an animal, usually a cat, and charm her victims into believing that she is benevolent or irresistible. However, she and her daughters usually strangle rather than drain victims, and in the Kabbalah, she retains many attributes found in vampires.

A late 17th- or early 18th-century Kabbalah document was found in one of the Ritman library’s copies of Jean de Pauly’s translation of the Zohar. The text contains two amulets, one for male (lazakhar), the other for female (lanekevah). The invocations on the amulets mention Adam, Eve, and Lilith, Chavah Rishonah and the angels—Sanoy, Sansinoy, Smangeluf, Shmari’el, and Hasdi’el. A few lines in Yiddish are shown as dialog between the prophet Elijah and Lilith, in which she has come with a host of demons to kill the mother, take her newborn and “to drink her blood, suck her bones and eat her flesh”. She informs Elijah that she will lose power if someone uses her secret names, which she reveals at the end.

Other Jewish stories depict vampires in a more traditional way. In “The Kiss of Death”, the daughter of the demon king Ashmodai snatches the breath of a man who has betrayed her, strongly reminiscent of a fatal kiss of a vampire. A rare story found in Sefer Hasidim #1465 tells of an old vampire named Astryiah who uses her hair to drain the blood from her victims. A similar tale from the same book describes staking a witch through the heart to ensure she does not come back from the dead to haunt her enemies.

More about Vampires can be found at The Powers That Be.

How to celebrate Dracula Day

Celebrating all things Dracula why not throw a party and get your friends round for the ultimate film binge. Ideas for creating the perfect atmosphere include giving your party a Gothic feel by making sure all of your decorations are either black or blood red, the table setting is rather sophisticated, everyone is dressed elegantly and wears fangs, hanging up plenty of bat and spider web decorations, and serving plenty of blood red drinks.

It would also be perfect to watch one or more of the classic vampire movies to have been made, such as the 1958 British classic titled simply “Dracula”, and starring the incredibly impressive Christopher Lee as the aristocratic titular character. Other movie choices include “Nosferatu”, a 1922 German expressionist horror film, and “Interview with the Vampire” starring Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, and a young Kirsten Dunst.

If it’s something more lighthearted you’re looking for, Roman Polański’s “The Fearless Vampire Killers, or Pardon Me, But Your Teeth Are in My Neck” will keep everyone entertained. Lesser known, but equally fun movies include Suck (one of my personal favourites), and Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter.

If you don’t plan on hosting a party, that does not mean you have to miss out on Dracula day—take the time to delve into the world created by Bran Stoker in his acclaimed novel. Reading a good book has never hurt anyone, and in the era social media’s 140-character blurbs of text, it is ever more important to keep the art of literature alive.

If you’ve already read it, consider tackling Anne Rice’s “Vampire Chronicles”, a series of 11 critically acclaimed books that follow influential vampires all throughout history. Stephen King’s “Salem’s Lot”. As you can see, there is no shortage of ways to celebrate the vampires of the world this Dracula Day!

Vampire Magick:

If you get really excited about all this talk of vampires, blood, and the undead, you might even be interested in exploring spells to “become a vampire.” Alternatively, you might want to play around with some protection against vampires spells, vampire prevention spells, or even a peaceful coexistence spell. They can all be found in the Book of Shadows, and Gypsy Magick and Lore.

Sources:

Days Of The Year

Checkiday

Wikipedia

https://shirleytwofeathers.com/The_Blog/pagancalendar/category/may-holidays/

[bernardzielinski-blog]

Rex Parker Performs The NYT Crossword Challenge.

In lifestyle these people will certainly prosper, however in fatality they will purchase their transgressions. THERE lives, at this, time, in Judea, a man of single merit, who title is actually Jesus Christ, which the barbarians confidence as a prophet, however his fans love and also like him as the offspring from the immortal The lord. To the theologians as well as rabbis from that time, connecting the cursed black" slaves to the little ones from Israel would certainly have managed unlike the being located white colored" photos that they were actually advertising from Jesus" and the youngsters of Israel as a whole. Protestants and Catholics quickly acknowledge that the blood from the Passover sheep (a genuine event) was actually additionally a type (a foreshadowing) of Jesus Christ, the true Passover Lamb. Peter, the one that obtains the tricks from the Empire, also possesses a never-failing religion, baseding upon words of Jesus. Consequently, Protestant bibles (to this particular day) possess 66 books, while Catholic holy bibles have 73. Martin Luther and also the Protestants helped make the extreme selection to clear away these seven books from the Bible, although they had actually been practically universally accepted as portion of the Holy bible for over a millennium. This is considering that Martin Luther was the very first identifiable representative for their variation of Christianity." Just before his separation coming from the Catholic Congregation in 1520, there was actually no public defender of what our experts now understand to become Protestantism, the center doctrines which are reason by religion alone and also Bible alone. Income tax profits equates to tax price times profit, and growth figures out just how much earnings there is going to be actually. The amount from income tax earnings our authorities possesses on call to pay off debt and also to pay out the increasing social surveillance as well as health care expenses depends practically entirely on financial growth. Given that Protestants decline the authority from the Catholic Congregation, they possess positively no way from identifying along with assurance (i.e. infallibly) which manuals make up the Bible. It's consistently excellent when I take place the Web, radio, Facebook and also people are actually playing his music and also they're referring to him every time his birthday or even wedding anniversary happens. Established The U.S.A. Retail Household Furniture Affiliation $300 thousand retail range. This went on for a handful of times while my nightly tantric adventures along with my mother proceeded unmitigated. Definitely just the Catholic Chapel fulfills this revelation, which concerns all creations of truth Chapel. Along with drive structure on our business and zdrowy-styl-mojblog.pl also price efficiency efforts, our team expect to supply full-year fine-tuned diluted incomes per reveal from $0.80 to $0.90. Our company are actually also updating our full-year free of charge capital quote to $10 million to $20 million and reducing our full-year capital investment price quote to $105 million to $115 million. This parable, which obviously describes removing celebrations of wrongs - factors in lifestyle that are going to grab people in to offenses versus God - simply possesses a definition if wrongs as well as jobs belong of figuring out whether one achieves redemption. The Catholic Parish shows that there is one God, the Holy Trinity: Father, Boy and also Holy Ghost, 3 blissful persons in one God. This clearly refers to the virginal inception as well as birth off the tummy of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Jesus' mama.

This's important to emphasize that this second after the Rebirth, in John 21, was actually the point at which Jesus produced St. Peter the very first pope. This was St. Peter which pronounced upon them the strict judgment of The lord and also the Parish. The lot of Jesus' brothers" (adelphoi) pointed out in the Scriptures seems to be to advise that several of all of them were not also stretched loved ones, however considered aspect of the household in different ways.

[blt0821-blog]

I am.

I’m not sure how to start my first post. Especially to an empty audience. I’m lying in bed, with rain hitting the window behind my head and my Himalayan salt lamp glowing the room. I was about to go to bed early, for once. I was completing my nightly ritual of stalking my Facebook feed for funny videos, memes, or controversial left-wing posts to nod my head to. I came across this video a friend posted. I usually don’t watch depressing videos, if I can help it, because my mind is already a constant battle of a grey field or force trying to march in and conquer this land, once again. On the thumbnail, I read, “I had to feed 22 horses before I earned the right to have breakfast”. Was this some weird slave camp? My curiosity got the best of me, as per usual, and I clicked on it. I expected to spend a solid 20 seconds before going ahead and skipping to the next video. Instead I spent 8 minutes in awe. For the first time I actually felt connected to some random man talking about the lack of affection he felt from his parents. Usually you only hear the extreme cases, right? Shit, I think we all remember reading the book, “A Child Called ‘It’”. I read that book at the mature age of 11 or 12 and I remember thinking, “This kid had it way worse than me. I shouldn’t be so sad”. Even at the beginning of this video I watched I thought, “He definitely had it way worse than me. Why do I complain so much?” For some reason I kept watching, though. The more he talked the more I thought, “holy fuck someone gets it”. Did he have it worse than me? Yeah he definitely did. But something he said just grabbed a hold of my heart and shook it. He talked about how his dad would drop him off for his hockey games and instead of coming inside to watch, he’d sit in the car. He described as he was inside, everyone’s parents would be tightening their kid’s skates to get ready for the game and he would be getting ready on his own. This struck a chord; like really struck a chord. The strings broke the chord was struck so hard. I was in an extracurricular activity with 250 kids. We had several events from the summer up until winter. Huge performances, practices, in town, out of town, you name it. I can’t tell you how many parents would be there. Whether it was just to watch or volunteer with our group. But, they were everywhere. Every event, every month, every year. I’d hear, “Oh, maybe the next one”.  I’ll never forget when my parents announced they were finally going! They didn’t want to waste too much money so they would drive the morning of. I was ridiculously excited. This was nationals. The previous year they missed the show and walked in as we finished. But this year would be different. They promised. I fucking gave it my all. I was so proud knowing my parents were, for once, there in that crowd. Watching and maybe even proud of me. We ran off the field celebrating a great performance. 250 kids sweating bullets as adults were rushing us off to make room for the next group and put everything away. I secretly kept my phone in my bra so I could text my mom right away to ask if she saw me, if she took my picture, if she liked the show. I pulled it out as we were greeted with parents who snuck around to greet their kids. I saw that they decided to not go. They didn’t want to deal with traffic. I cried so hard that day I got two nose bleeds. Want to know how often I get nose bleeds? I mean, actual blood flowing from my nose. Not, ooo this air sure is dry! My nose is a little raw! Well, I haven’t had a nose bleed since. Before that day, I didn’t have a nose bleed since I was six and picked my nose too hard during church. Bad time to make a joke? Ok. 

But the more this man talked, the more memories flooded. He talked about how he had award shows and hoped to see his parents in the crowd, always to be disappointed. I remembered the first and only time I was in an art show, I remembered when I won an award for my involvement with the school’s sign language department, I even won a stupid award for best Digital Design student. I will never be able to full put into words the pain and loneliness of walking into a crowd and just shuffling back to class or trying to find a ride home so I didn’t have to walk for an hour and a half to get home. But I could never reveal that pain to anyone. They put a roof over my head, fed me, clothed me. It was just kind of nice to hear someone talk about this pain they experienced. I wasn’t alone. I’m this awkward middle of a decent childhood and a terrible childhood of abuse. I was never hit. I was never starved. I wasn’t forced to drink bleach or some weird shit. But phrases like, “it could be worse” make people like me shut up and let the pain fester. I’ve never once listened to someone say, “you can change your thinking” I always thought, “Fuck you. You don’t know. You had parents that showed they loved you. You didn’t grow up in my shoes. You don’t have my fucked up brain chemistry”. But when this man said he was told he could re-program his brain, I believed him. He seemed genuine. He talked about his insecurities as a 30 year old man and I actually believed him. He was told he had shitty programming and they just had to fix it up. I won’t go into too much detail but he started with always saying, “I am ruggedly handsome”. As often as he could, he’d say that to himself. It seems so fucking dumb but like I said, for once it seems like someone may have a similar experience and brain to me and is saying he helped himself. So, here’s the start to my experience. Maybe it’ll get me somewhere. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and never think about this again. I guess we’ll have to find out. 

I am... the hardest worker

[lusciousvertigo]

As One Door Closes

… another one opens or so my Mother had always said but she’d also said that drinking several litres of Absolut would ensure that you forgot your failings and the loneliness after the waste of space my Dad was had fucked off and left her with a six month old squalling me. Those doors however? Seemed to stay permanently closed unless I worked myself into an early grave to achieve exactly what I want for me. The Kessler name had once been one to be respected at one point; my Dad had served in the military from the age of seventeen, honoring those who had served before on both sides of my family going back to the time of the Civil War and he had risen swiftly through the ranks becoming a Lieutenant General which apparently is really high and Mom still had a photograph of him in her room in his fancy uniform. SHe cries over it regularly and gets really pissed off when I tell her that maybe she would feel better if she wasn’t looking at the bastard who left us every day. Turns out that my Mom has a really vicious backhand when talking about dear ol’ Dad and I’ve learnt to keep my mouth shut over it all and embrace my distaste over them both by getting rid of my golden blonde curls with a bottle of dye and refusing to go lie out in the sunshine like the bitches of Hemery High School… Ah the place that spawn opinionated bitches out to be Valley girls who spent every waking moment looking perfect for their rich Father-figure boyfriends to marry. Just like my Mom had done… after all she got herself knocked up by a man twice her age and wondered why he did a fast one the moment he could so that he wasn’t shackled to a bimbo and a brat. His loss… my Mom may well drink herself into an early grave now? But there was a time when she was the epitome of a 1950s housewife ensuring I was well-fed and cared for (by well-fed read extremely strict diet so that I would be able to be a cheerleader and make her dreams come true so that I could become head cheerleader and come home with trophies galore…) I can now clarify that I despise protein shakes and the strict regimes she had me on that had me become a stick insect before I was thirteen. Hemery had been Hell ninety per cent of the time, as I became a misfit. Not because I was in a household made up of my Mom and I but because she was an addict and it got around the school within minutes thanks to.. Guess who? The cheerleaders and the jocks. I swore there and then that I wouldn’t end up like my Mom and worked hard through school earning good grades and pushing myself in the dance studio.. I had a dream and it was one that went against the look I had grown to love and embrace fully as my own now as Ariana Keller - child of drunk and a now deceased Dad. (Trust me, if I go there - I won’t stop and the irony of it is I found out before Mom did when I saw his photo in the obituaries section of the paper} I lost myself to music and the poise and grace found in the art of ballet. My Mom had been furious with me declaring that I was letting her down and had abandoned all her hopes and dreams.. But I had been training for years now, been offered a place in The Juilliard School - yes, the place to go if you had a true passion and talent for Dance, Drama, and/or Music.. It was there that I found peace and quiet because I was out the clutches of my Mother thanks to her decision that I was too much like my Dad and that meant I was to be cast aside and forgotten. Which had meant the last five years of my life had been relatively quiet and that of course meant I was in for a returning of the dead and that would ensure that the peace I had known would end. I’d earned my BFA with a diploma (Bachelor of Fine Arts) a year ago and had found work in various theatres throughout New York and had high hopes for what would happen.. My life was indeed in my own hands and I wanted to make the most of it before everything went wrong with the arrival of one Jennifer Mayfield also known as ‘Mom’... I mean life couldn’t be good forever right? Making my way to my apartment in the Village, I trolled through the fifty or so messages she had left each and everyone filled with what had to be the ravings of a mad woman. She swore that there were monsters in the Valley; I wonder if she’d switched vodka to something a little more interesting and illegal in the form of Charlie until I remembered just why I had learnt to admire the former cheerleader turned freak in Elizabeth ‘Buffy’ Summers and her rebel boytoy Oliver Pike.. the two of them had burnt down the gym of Hemery High to kill these freaks or what was it they had been accused of being? Oh that was it ‘an attack by a gang on PCP.’ Whoever came up with that excuse clearly hadn’t actually witnessed what a gang on PCP actually looked like and they certainly didn’t have faces that resembled wax masks under the sun.. But I didn’t believe in monsters either - not that kind anyway. Monsters were child molesters, absentee parents, abusers of the elderly. There’s a fucking long list let me tell you but not one of them came from an episode of Supernatural otherwise there would be a mass hunt throughout the country for the Winchesters to ‘assist’. Also known as women (and men) wanting to drag Sam and Dean under the sack to make mini-hunters. My internal thoughts are going to have me burning in the fiery pits because if my Mom was right, swearing was sinful as was me abandoning her (despite losing my sanity when I stayed there) and I would burn. Catholics… worse than any prison guard I tell ya. But if my Mom didn’t get a call back from me; given as there were ten missed calls within the last hour? She would presume I was dead and I had already had two cases of the police contacting me as my Mom believed I was missing presumed DOA in the nearest hospital. That had been embarrassing and on the last time the police had arrived at my apartment? I had sat with them and shared my dinner with them as they took their report down … and asked me if I was concerned that my Mom had mental issues or had been assessed for depression or other such conditions. I had wanted to disappear into the ground right there and then. But that was then and this is now and clearly my Mom was concerned and I had to become the adult dealing with a child. I would get her to talk to me and then try to persuade her to put her crutch down - the vodka treble she will have no doubt poured a few of so that she would go to bed and sleep it off. I just had to hope I wouldn’t have to go to the coach station and travel from Manhattan to LA because that would screw me up in my rehearsals for my part as Ophelia in the ballet performance of Hamlet at the Zeigfeld. I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t throttle her if that occurred. Again. Perhaps it was the stress of my life and need to be the best at my classes that I would find some way to unburden the weight of fear and failure. I would visit clubs pretty much nightly to drink and forget the pain of my various pairs of dance shoes. It would be on a crowded dance floor that I would embrace the feeling of feeling truly alone when music would flow through me like the very blood in my veins. I paid little attention to the dangers I was in; or rather refused to allowed my already beleaguered mind to process the several outcomes my behaviour could of perhaps more accurately; would induce. I saw dangers and discarded them both in the form of writhing bodies in a smoky and dark club; or along the sidewalks where any old vehicle to plough me down in the blink of an eye causing my Mother to finally lose control of the few marbles she still possessed. I was alone in the crowd; but there was always a sensation akin to the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I never spoke of it; never mentioned it to the few friends at Juilliard I had lest they think nights spent in a padded room with lovely white blinding lights would aid my recovery. After all; saying someone was watching you; even when you were undressing for bed was something that could be deemed as far-fetched. Even by those I entrusted my deepest secrets. And yet.. I swore I saw the same bleached white hair in each and every bar or club I frequented.. and then it would sneak up on me when I secured the curtains to my bedroom. Someone was indeed out there; I just had no way of proving it; or knowing just why someone would do such a thing without malignant intent for my person.. He was protecting me; I escaped muggings and threats to my life only for them to disappear once I was ordered to the room. He installed fear and yet security info my mindset and I was interlude lost wondering the simplest of questions? Why me?

[youngdeppvolcanoes-blog]

How To Look Younger: Helpful Aging Tips

Trying to stop or reverse the progress of age is ultimately futile. It is more important for you to ensure that the time ahead is enjoyable and healthy than to try to recapture lost youth. Peruse the next few paragraphs to learn to take better care of yourself as you age. Take resveratrol. Researchers have found some promising connections between calorie restricted diets and anti-aging benefits. Resveratrol, which can be found in nuts and grapes, acts the same way. Resveratrol can be found in some supplements and in Japanese knotweed. Another source is the root of the Senna quinquangulata plant, a shrub found in South America. Challenge your mind often to keep it healthy. Don't allow your hard earned intelligence to fade away. Many colleges offer reduced tuition to seniors, but challenging your mind can also be as simple as doing the daily crossword.

Make sure that you get enough sleep at your age. Individuals who get between seven and nine full hours of sleep nightly often feel more relaxed as a result of balanced hormone levels. You may find yourself more irritable without the proper levels of sleep, and you won't enjoy life to the fullest. Step up your workout routine. As you get older, your body requires more time and energy to maintain its strength and flexibility. Do 30 minutes of cardiovascular activity, four to five days per week. Try adding in strength exercises about two times a week. This will keep your muscles toned, while fighting off the effects of aging. Growing Older is something that is completely unavoidable. The effects of aging makes it harder to care for yourself as well as you once did. When it comes to this time, it is generally a good idea to think about moving into a nursing home. While not the ideal situation for some, in actuality this might be the best available option. The licensed professionals will provide you a quality of health care that you are unable to provide for yourself. Perform random acts of kindness and spread joy. It is a blessing to your life to be able to make others happy. Happiness is something that doesn't cost a penny, and yet it's one of the greatest gifts you can give and receive. Friends give you the sustenance, love and positive energy that make life wonderful. Age is irrelevant when it comes to forming new friendships. Go out and meet some people and make friends, you will live longer and happier. The older you get, the more important it is to have http://www.antiaging.com/ your home be a place of safety and refuge. When life becomes stressful, you should be able to return to your home and enjoy yourself in a highly personal, comforting environment. A well-cared-for home will always care for you. As you age, be careful with your eyes. You will naturally lose some of your eyesight as you get older but if you take the time to go for regular checkups and screenings, you may be able to catch any diseases that affect your sight and save any further deterioration. Stay away from extreme environmental conditions. The sun and the wind are two of the biggest factors that can ruin your skin without you sometimes even noticing it. This not only can cause skin cancer but also causes premature getting older. Take extra precautions to reduce your risk of falling. Many injuries and even deaths among older people are caused by falls. If you take 30 minutes to walk about 3 times a week, you will help your balance and also maintain mental and physical fitness. To lower your risk of getting a fracture, use weight training, and take calcium along with vitamin D to increase bone density. Get your blood pressure checked regularly. If you have high blood pressure you may not even know it, that is why they call it the 'silent killer'. As our cardiovascular systems deteriorate over time, it is of the utmost importance that we monitor our blood pressure. You will find issues easier through constant vigilance. To fight aging effectively, you need to start eating better by making nutritious food choices. Make sure to consume a lot of vegetables, dairy products, lean meats, and whole grains in order to get the nutrients your body needs. Enjoy three meals every day, keeping portion size in mind, and reduce your snacking. Make regular doctor visits and always take the doctors advice about recommended testing to diagnose problems before they become serious. By staying informed, you can see issues early and fix them right way. The sooner your recognize a problem, the sooner it can be remedied.

Learn how to love to laugh. To keep you looking young as well as feeling young keep laughter and happiness in your life. Look for opportunities to laugh every day: read funny novels, watch amusing movies, and cultivate a culture of laughter in your life. Find things that make you happy and tickle your funny bone. If you don't want to age before your time, give up smoking as soon as you can, as this can make your skin look incredibly old. Smokers look significantly older than they actually are, due in part to the way that smoking encourages wrinkle formation around the mouth. If you do not smoke, you will have a better chance of keeping a youthful look and have healthy skin. Consider injection therapy! Injection therapy is an innovative way to treat wrinkles. Through injections, the facial muscles are made to relax, which makes the skin appear smoother and less wrinkled. Injection therapy is a far safer alternative to the invasive surgical solutions available for wrinkle reduction. Be aware, though, that injection therapy requires a series of visits in order to build up the effects. It is actually surprisingly easy to keep yourself engaged and energized as you grow older. Make sure to keep your mind and body healthy so you can enjoy your later years. Get additional ideas for new activities by reading newsletters and articles. You can enjoy the rest of your life by doing things that keep you interested and active.