#i have come out of hibernation to solely say that i am still waiting for the outsider pov sebchal fic

[eirist]

One More Sleep

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: A ZoNa Holiday Events is up at Tumblr for the month of December. We got selected themes for each day and we’d love other ZoNa shippers to join and celebrate our favorite couple with holiday-themed fanarts and fanfics! Feel free to check it here: @zonamievents

Unexpectedly wrote this one just this Christmas dawn/morning (my timezone) because I can’t sleep from too much eating. And coffee. Zoned out once this is done. It’s what I would say a go figure work and definitely smells of a companion one-shot.

 Anyways, Merry Christmas everyone!

Theme: # 25 - Hibernate

Summary: “Why don’t you go up and check on him?” “Why does everybody keep telling me that?”

“Is he still asleep?”

Nami raised one eyebrow as she directed the question to the tinkering sniper. Usopp momentarily paused from what he was doing and blinked up at her.

She just continued looking at him, waiting for an answer. The curly-haired lad shrugged his shoulders in response. “Probably,” he said as went back to adjusting the screws on his latest invention. “Didn’t hear any sound coming from the nest since this morning.”

Nami pursed her lips at that. It was already late afternoon. Scratch that. It was nearing sun set to be more precise.

“Seems overboard even for him.” She flicked a glance at the crow’s nest before her eyes riveted to Usopp. “Are we sure he’s still alive in there?”

Now Usopp stopped working, shooting her an incredulous look. Then his face broke into a grin that Nami finds a bit irritating.

“You seemed concern? Why not go up and check on him?” He suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Nami fought the urge to punch him on the head. “I am so not! I’m just wondering why he hasn’t lugged his stupid ass down here, being a nuisance and pissing Sanji-kun off!”

“O-kay,” Usopp mouthed looking like he’s not buying her explanation. He studied Nami for a moment and snickered when he saw her looking up at the crow’s nest again.

“What?” Nami asked in a sharp tone when she heard it. She glared daggers at her so-called friend knowing full well that he plans to subject her to some teasing.

“Nothing.” Usopp was quick to answer and he immediately went back to his work, feigning concentration.

“Urgh,” Nami groaned. “What a waste of time.” She muttered before stomping away from him to head at the galley.

Behind her Usopp snickered again.

She didn’t bother turning around to confront him or scare the shit out of him. Instead she just said, “All that snickering’s gonna cost you Usopp.”

She ignored the shout of protest that came from behind her.

-----------------------

“Is he still not up?”

Nami asked that question again. Only this time she directed it to her captain instead of the long-nosed sniper.

Luffy blinked back at her. Almost the same as what Usopp did earlier, exactly three hours ago.

He looked a bit confused as if he did not comprehend what she was asking.

And based from his answer… he definitely did not. “Who?” Her idiotic captain questioned back. A nerve ticked on Nami’s forehead before she replied. “Zoro.” Luffy paused for a moment, before he broke into a grin and laughed. “Oh. Zoro! Shishishi! Guess not. I haven’t seen him since…” he tilted his head, as if pondering. “Uhm…” “Stop that.” Nami instantly decided to put a stop to his thinking with a slight wave of her hand. Or they’ll be at it until… some other things manage to catch Luffy’s attention. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Why would I hurt myself?”

“Ugh, never mind.”

Luffy was looking at her strange. Then he blurted out. “Oi! Have you seen Zoro, Nami?”

Nami stared at him disbelievingly. Her fist throbbed from the effort of holding back and preventing herself from thumping him on the head. “I already asked you that Luffy! So that means I haven’t.”

“Oh! Why are you looking for him?”

“Because I haven’t seen him since…” she trailed off. Sweet heavens! Did she really fell into the Luffy loop where they’ll just keep asking each other, confusing each other and actually ending up with no clear answer?

Luffy was looking at her eagerly.

She exhaled loudly. “You know what; Sanji-kun is cooking something delicious in the kitchen for tomorrow.” Nami decided to just distract her ever gluttonous captain. “You might want to check it out.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially.

That perked the rubber man up. “Really?” His eyes went wide and Nami could swear she can see meat in them.

She nodded and just like that Luffy went bounding towards the galley, shouting meat at the top of his lungs.

There were a lot of cursing coming from the kitchen and something about ‘It’s way past dinnertime!’ and ‘That food is for tomorrow!’ and ‘Luffy you idiot captain!’. Then some sounds of scuffle and a few thuds here and there.

Nami just shrugged like it wasn’t her fault.

Sorry Sanji-kun! She internally apologized for distracting Luffy with their chef.

------------------------ “No one’s seen him since yesterday.”

“Huh?” This time it’s Nami’s turn to blink in surprise at the sudden information. She had just stepped inside the girl’s room after spending the rest of the night in the library working on one of her maps. It was almost midnight when she finally decided to get some rest and finish the other charts tomorrow.

The whole day passed and still the person she was looking for haven’t shown himself. Not during breakfast, lunch or even dinner that Sanji-kun was a bit peeved since ‘that stupid marimo is wasting food’—his exact words. Yet, the blond cook did not bother going up the nest to check on him. ‘That idiot is a grown man after all and the hell with him!’. He had grumbled while in the middle of dinner.

Robin was sitting on one of their comfy sofas; the round coffee table in front of her was filled with open books. She was poring over a thick history volume when Nami entered.

“What was that?” Nami prompted when Robin did not say anything after what she declared.

The raven-haired beauty lifted her head to regard Nami. She smiled. “Zoro. He hasn’t gone down the nest since yesterday.”

“Uhm… I wasn’t…” the navigator began.

Robin raised a curious eyebrow at her. “You’ve been asking around.”

Nami felt her face heat up at that. She was about to say she wasn’t. Besides she made sure to ask their crewmates randomly and one by one to appear surreptitious and not pique their curiosity so much on why she’s inquiring about their green-haired swordsman.

But the archaeologist was sneakier than her, for she had known exactly what Nami is up to.

So lying definitely won’t work. Robin knows everything and anything that goes in their ship with her convenient ability to produce her eyes and ears everywhere.

That or maybe Franky tipped her off after she asked him earlier. That speedo-wearing pervert!

“Why don’t you go up and check on him?” Robin spoke again as she flipped a page of her book.

Nami pouted as she plopped down her bed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why does everybody keep telling me that?”

“Maybe because it’s the obvious thing to do instead of going around and asking everybody about him.” Robin threw her a small smile as her tone emphasized the word ‘everybody’. “Would’ve saved you the trouble.”

The orange-haired girl flinched slightly at that. Robin had caught her slip. Well, it’s not like she didn’t know already.

And did she really went around and asked everyone on the ship? She only questioned Usopp and Luffy… … and Sanji-kun and Chopper and Franky and Brook and Jinbei…

Her shoulders slumped at her realization. That’s the whole crew… almost.

Robin was looking at her expectantly. “We’re nearing a winter island right? Weather’s been too cold these last few days…”

Nami stared at her. “Yeah we are,” she agreed with a nod of her head. She considered what the older woman just said. “What? You mean he’s like hibernating or something?” Nami’s eyebrow lifted high at that, disappearing behind her orange bangs. “What is he? A bear?!”

Robin laughed softly before returning to her book. “With the weather this cold, he’d definitely prefer sleeping. Can’t blame him right?” She lifted her eyes again and looked at her pointedly. “He’s probably just catching up on sleep. After all he’s been pulling double shifts these last few days,” she tilted her head slightly, still gazing at Nami meaningfully. “Isn’t he?”

Nami winced. Zoro was indeed pulling double night-watch shifts lately. But no one knows that.

Except her and him.

And Robin… apparently.

She didn’t answer so as not to affirm what Robin was saying.

“Can’t be that comfortable on the nest’s floor.” Robin murmured, that certain smile never leaving her face even as she perused her book again.

Nami’s brows furrowed at that.

“How about a nice pillow and one of those wonderful blankets we got from Sherpa Island?” She suggested and multiple hands sprouted to open their closet door to pull one out, lightly throwing it at Nami.

“Eeeh?” Nami retorted even if she held out her arms to catch it. She gaped in surprise when Robin’s hands made a grab for her pillow and placed it in her arms.  

“He’d probably sleep until he’s on watch again.” Robin smiled at her. “You can bring it up with you. I’m sure you’re going to go up there to finally check on him.”

“Robin!”

“Ara, aren’t you planning to do that?” Robin now has a cheeky smile on her face. “Or do you need me asleep before you sneak out?” She gave Nami a wink.

The map maker was speechless. How much does Robin knows???

“It wouldn’t hurt to make sure he gets a good rest right? After all it’s your shift he’s been covering.”

Nami blushed hard at that. Zoro was indeed covering her watch shifts. But only because HE said he WILL!

“For the record. He insisted.” Nami explained with frown as she bundled the blanket and pillow in her arms. “I did not force him to!” “Oh? Then that’s sweet of him to offer don’t you think?”

Nami blushed harder than she ever thought possible.

“He just… I just… He…” she stuttered before finally finding her ground.

“Why am I even explaining?!”

Robin looked at her knowingly, mischievously. “Why indeed?”

#zoro x nami #ZoNa #zonami #zonalove #zona fanfiction #zoro nami fanfiction #zona one-shot #ZoNaHoliday2023 #zona holiday prompts #roronoa zoro #nami

[trashyswitch]

Am I Annoying?

Virgil begins to worry that he's asking for tickles too often. In an attempt to lessen his temptations, Virgil hides away in his bedroom. But Patton and the other sides are missing having him around. So, Patton finally checks up on him to find out the reason for Virgil's sudden hiding plan.

This was suggested by an anonymous user on my Tumblr page. Thank you for the prompt, and I hope you enjoy the fanfic!

Virgil has always worried about many things. If the thing was bad and had to do with him, then he worried about it. Some things were worth getting worried about, while other things were just unnecessary. An example of something that would be worth worrying about is: ‘Did I forget to buy someone a gift for christmas?’ and ‘did I forget to turn the stove on?’. Things that are unnecessary to worry about is: ‘Is this person still mad at me despite them saying they forgive me?’ and ‘Does this person truly love me as much as they claim?’. Though these things seem understandable to worry about, they actually aren’t necessary for survival or your life whatsoever. So, you can cross that off your list. But one thing that has been going through his mind, is if Virgil is annoying the people around him with one single question: ‘Can you tickle me please?’

That thought has been bringing him down since he admitted he likes being tickled. He fears he’s been asking too much to be tickled, and he fears he may be annoying them as a result. How does he know? Well, that’s easy: he senses it. He senses they’re agitated. He senses the fear in their head as Virgil walks up to them. He just knows they’ve grown to despise the question. “Can I be tickled?” “I’m in the mood.” “Are you busy? If not, can you tickle me please?” It’s become too much for them to handle. Virgil knows it. He knows it all too well. And now...Virgil feels bad about it.

So what a better way to lessen the question, than to hide away more often? If he wasn’t around the sides nearly as much, he wouldn’t be tempted into asking. And if the sides were left without anxiety there, the sides wouldn’t have to worry about the dreaded question coming up. So Virgil’s been hiding himself away in the dark void that is his room. He’s been finding other ways to make up for his cravings, and has found ways to survive his lee moods without people. Sure, it’s not nearly as perfect a remedy as being actually tickled, but...it’s better than being bombarded with the same general question over and over again.

Virgil was sitting in his room, drinking hot chocolate and snacking on popcorn while he watched christmas movies. He was bored and tired. Also touch-starved. And in need of love. But Virgil ignored his cravings and continued to try and watch the movie.

Soon though, a few knocks filled the room. “Virgil?” the familiar voice called. Uh oh...It was Patton. Patton probably senses he’s been hiding from them! Virgil gasped in slight fear, and hid himself under the covers with his phone. “I brought you food. You haven’t been coming out.” Patton told him. Virgil winced at that. He DOES know. Well...that’s Patton for ya: always checking up on his family members. “Can I come in?” Patton asked.

Virgil whined quietly and rested his head on his pillow. It was getting hard to breath under the comforter, but he wasn’t prepared to face Patton or the other sides yet. He was scared of what they would think of him just...shutting them out for personal reasons. The truth was, what he did to them wasn’t fair. But...Do they really miss him that much?

Soon, the door opened. “I’m gonna place the food down here, then leave you alone. Something tells me you need alone time.” Patton told him.

Virgil frowned. Who told him he needed alone time? Was Patton just assuming that? If so, then that is a really bad assumption to make.

He didn’t hear his door close. So, Virgil continued to hide under the covers till he heard some sort of noise that indicated he was alone.

“Virgil?” Patton called, his voice getting closer. Virgil opened his eyes and bit his lip. He heard Patton pick up a piece of plastic. “Have you been solely surviving on popcorn and juice boxes?” he asked.

Virgil silently sighed. Great. Patton’s gonna start on his rant about how ‘unhealthy’ it is and how he should at least be making noodles or getting food from the kitchen.

“Virgil...Please come out.” Patton begged, patting the being that hid under the pile of blanket.

“Why?” Virgil asked.

“I’m worried about you. We’re all worried about you. You’ve been hiding in here for a week.” Patton told him.

Virgil thought about it. Yup, he has been hiding for a week. And boy, did it feel like one. The days became so much slower when he was all alone and not hanging out with the other sides. “I know.” Virgil finally replied.

“Why? Did we do something wrong? Did I do something wrong? Please tell me.” Patton begged.

Virgil blinked in surprise. Wait...Are they blaming themselves for him not coming out? Why would they be blaming themselves? They did nothing wrong.

“It’s not you. It’s me.” Virgil told him.

Virgil waited for something to happen. What was Patton gonna do? Was Patton gonna take the covers off him? Was Patton gonna poke him? Was Patton gonna surround him with all his special stuffies?

Well...the last one isn’t that bad, actually.

Virgil’s thoughts quickly halted when a bunch of weight softly came down on the bed. Virgil felt the mass with his feet, and quickly realized he was touching Patton’s hip. What’s he doing?

“Is this about the tickling thing?” Patton asked.

Virgil’s fear morphed into guilt almost immediately. Damn...he knows. “...Yeah.” Virgil admitted.

Virgil moved the comforter off his face very slowly and looked at the man. Patton was smiling humbly at him. “Are you still embarrassed about liking it?” Patton asked.

Virgil shook his head. “I worry...I’m asking too much.” Virgil admitted.

Patton widened his eyes and quickly scooted himself closer. “Virgil, we are not bothered by how often you ask us for tickles. We would much rather you ask us 5 times everyday, than have you hide in your room and not ask at all.” Patton admitted.

Virgil’s fear lessened a slight bit. “Are you sure?” He asked.

Patton moved his bangs out of the way. “Of course. I’m positive.” Patton replied.

Virgil smiled a little and looked at his hand. “Thank you Patton.”

“No problem! Are you up for some tickles now?” Patton asked.

Virgil looked at him and practically tackled him down. “YES PLEEEAAASE! I have been touch-starved for way too long. I am just aching fo-hohohohor- Yahahahahay!” Virgil practically melted off of Patton and flopped onto the ground happily. Patton skittered his fingers as quickly and effectively as he could on Virgil’s sides, ribs, and armpits. “Whyhyhyhy ahahare yohohohou gohohoihihihing soho fahahahast? Ihihi dihihidn’t ehehehexpehehect thihihis!” Virgil admitted.

Patton giggled and continued his tickling. “Because I think you deserve lots of tickles! I wanted to make up for the long break we’ve all had from tickling you!” Patton replied eagerly.

“Ohohohoho! Wehehehell, ahahahalrihihight.” Virgil giggled as he squirmed about under him. Patton moved his hands to Virgil’s sides, and started clawing and squeezing them. Virgil threw his head back with a surprised shriek! “OHOHOHOHO GEHEHEHEEZ! HAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHE!” Virgil bursted out laughing.

“Ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-tickle! A ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-tickle!” Patton teased with a huge smile on his face.

“HOHOHOW AHAHARE YOHOHOHOU SOHO GOHOHOHOOD AHAHAT THIHIHIHIS?!” Virgil asked, already overcome with giddiness.

“I guess it’s just in my nature. Being a father means you are automatically an amazing tickle monster.” Patton replied.

“NOHOHOHOW YOHOHOU’RE BOHOHOASTIHIHING.” Virgil reacted.

“Yeeeaaah, maybe a little.” Patton replied with a smirk. “Uh oh! I feel a sneeze coming! Uh oh! Aah, aah! AAAAAH-” Patton dipped his head down into Virgil’s belly and blew a BIG raspberry onto his belly.

Virgil threw his head back and practically HOWLED with laughter! “WHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Oh! Goodness me!” Patton fake sniffed. “Pardon me! That was a strong one.” Patton joked.

“THAHAHAHAT WAHAHAS A FUHUHUCKING SNEEHEHEHEHEZE?!” Virgil joked as well, making a reference to the TikTok audio.

Patton laughed at that. “That was a fucking SNEEZE?!” Patton reacted, imitating the original audio voice as best as he could before laughing himself silly.

“Dihihid yohou mehean to reference that?” Virgil asked.

“No! I never meant to reference that at all! I was simply trying out a new teasing method.” Patton replied.

“Ooooh. Well, it certainly worked.” Virgil added.

“Really?!” Patton reacted, clapping his hands excitedly.

“Yup!” Virgil replied.

Patton tilted his head to the side. “Can I be honest?”

Virgil chuckled. “Of course you can. What’s up?”

Patton smiled. “I’m in the mood to press your buttons.” Patton admitted.

Virgil blinked in surprise. “I...What-” was all Virgil could say. Press his buttons? Like, annoy him while tickling him?

“Specifically, a certain giggle button of yours~” Patton teased, wiggling his index finger and lowering it down to his belly button.

“Ohoho! That’s what you meant. You were making a subtle tehehease!” Virgil quickly lost track of how close the finger was, and guffawed in surprise when Patton’s finger touched down a lot sooner than he expected.

“Uh oh! Looks like a certain wiggle worm is looking for a hooome~! I wonder...Can your belly button become its brand new cave for the winter?” Patton teased.

Virgil continued to laugh and squirm around wildly. “WHAHAHAHAT?! IHIHIHI’M TOHOHOHOO TIHIHICKLIHIHIHISH FOHOHOR THAHAHAHAT!” Virgil replied.

Patton made a fake frown. “But the poor worm has come across so many belly buttons today! And they’ve all been too ticklish to handle it! Will the poor worm ever find a home to hibernate in?” Patton asked.

“FIHIHIHIND OHOHOUT NEHEHEXT TIHIHIHIME OHON DRAHAHAGOHOHON BAHAHALL ZEEHEHEHE!” Virgil suddenly declared.

Patton gasped in fake horror. “NOT find out next time! We must find out now!” Patton reacted. “If your ticklish widdle belly button won’t work, maybe your armpits will?” Patton asked.

Virgil shrieked in horror! “NOHOHO! NAHAHAT THE ARMPIHIHIHITS!” Virgil begged, pushing against his chest.

“Oh YES the armpits! There’s nowhere else that’s quite as hidden than the belly button, or the armpits!” Patton declared.

Patton’s finger started inching its way to Virgil’s left armpit to burrow itself in there. Virgil was pushing Patton and laughing out the words “NO!” over and over again. But Patton giggled at his attempts because his pushing was just exposing his armpits more and more.

Patton finally touched down and burrowed his finger into the exposed armpit. “AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NONONONOHOHOHO NAHAHAT MYHYHY AHAHARMPIHIHIHIHIT! PLEHEHEHEHEHEAHAHASE!” Virgil shrieked and laughed hysterically!

“Oh my goodness! This little home is veeeerry comfy, but also super bumpy. Maybe the right armpit might be better?” Patton removed his finger from his left pit and inched his wormy finger over his shoulder blades to the right pit.

“PAHAHAHAT! DOHOHOHON’T! IHIHIHI’M BEHEHEGGIHIHIHING YOHOHOU!” Virgil squawked and cackled.

Patton paused his tickling and smirked. Virgil’s laughter quickly turned into giggles as his body started recovering from the tickle attack. But once his brain fog sobered up, Virgil looked at Patton with the most heart wrenching disappointed expression on his face. The facial expression alone, could break a dozen hearts.

“You don’t really want me to skip out on the right armpit, do you?” Patton asked.

Virgil looked down, giving him the guilty eyes. But his lips read a more playful, embarrassed kind of reaction. “N...No.” Virgil finally replied.

“Iiiii KNEW IT! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! “You like armpit tickles too!” Patton added.

“Wahahanna know something else?” Virgil asked. Patton quickly nodded and leaned forward to hear it. “My belly button is my favorite spot to be tickled.” Virgil admitted.

Patton gasped and practically EXPLODED with excitement! It didn’t take long for Patton to hold his arms up and tickle his belly button for him. “Coochy coochy coochy coochy coo! Such a cute little giggle button!” Patton teased more and more. “It’s been so long since I’ve booped such a ticklish little button! Boop! Boop boop boop!” Patton continued to tease.

Virgil could not stop squirming around and struggling to protect his ticklish belly button. “HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLEHES SOHOHO BAHAHAHAHAHAD!” Virgil told him.

“It tickles really bad, huh?” Patton let out an amused giggle. “Do you want me to slow down for ya?” Patton asked. Virgil shook his head in response, showing Patton that it was just a statement, and not a plea for change. “Okaaaaayy! But if you ever change your mind, you can always tell me to move spots.” Patton let him know casually.

Virgil continued to enjoy the belly button tickles for a little while. Even though it wasn’t the giggly kinda tickles, it was just the right amount that made Virgil all giddy and delirious. He missed this so much. It was almost agony trying to get through the week without proper tickles. And Patton was so understanding, patient, and playful all at once!

Virgil learned on that evening how patient every side really is with him. He had been worried he was annoying them by asking when in reality, it was only Virgil who was experiencing the doubt about his family. The only person who has showed any signs of annoyance was Roman. And that could easily be explained as Roman being his cocky self.

And how does a cocky attitude get cured?

Why, with tickles of course! Never forget the teases, and don’t be shy with the raspberries! And of course, all ticklish lees shall be calmed with some cuddles, blankets and hot cocoa.

#ticklefic #lee!virgil #ler!patton #platonic relationships #patton is a sweetheart #virgil needs tickles #mild hurt/comfort #tooth-rotting fluff

[magalidragon]

4 or 10 please!!!

Okay so I was going to do #10 in the when the sun sets in the east universe and I still will BUT then I got hit with feels and did #4 “hey I’m here now” in my silent shadow universe which hasn’t been posted yet. It’s angsty and sad but hopeful too. Don’t hate me! 🙈 (For those that didn’t see it, the moodboard and teaser for this fic is on my tumblr somewhere. Jon is deaf and has a wolf sanctuary, Dany is the veternarian)

#10. “Hey, I’m here now” — set in the as of now unpublished silent shadow universe

The world was closing in on him.

It was a constant sensation in his life, one he had grown used to since he was six-years old. Since that terrible day when he'd been playing with Robb, like nothing was wrong, and then he woke up in a hospital, with tubes and wires, his head exploding in pain, and...silence. Just nothing, nothing but vibrations when it was loud enough, nothing but humming when the frequency was just right.

He spent twenty years in his world, a world he'd created for himself, and part of that world entailed Ghost. Ghost was his counterpart, his equal, his shadow, and his heart and his soul. His entire world was courtesy of Ghost. Ghost let him know when someone was there, he saved him from stepping off the sidewalk without hearing the car coming around the corner...he was his ears, his eyes, and his entire life. Without Ghost he didn't know where he'd be.

Arya tried to get him to calm down, but it was no use. He dug his fingers into his scalp, tearing at his curls, yanking them free from the messy bun on the back of his head, and whimpered, like how he imagined his wolf felt. No, not imagine, he knew. His cousin held his wrists, her lips moving, gray eyes just like his wide and focused on him, and his brain processed what she was saying, but he didn't hear it. They were just words.

She let go of his hands, signing furiously, like he didn't know what she was already saying. It didn't matter. “Where is she!?" he shouted, knowing in his heightened state what he said was probably unintelligible. He caught sight of the huge Suburban rolling up and raced towards it, panicked, not even waiting for the tires to squeal to a stop before he threw open the door and grabbed her hand, yanking her out of the cab.

Silver hair flew around her face, her cheeks flushed, and she was dressed haphazardly. Arya had called her about thirty minutes ago. It took almost that long just to get from the front gate to the location in the depths of the sanctuary. He'd be impressed with her speed, if it weren't such dire circumstances. She was speaking to Arya, running with him, her bag slamming against her hip. He felt the pounding of his heart in his ears, the rush of his blood. Each foot on the ground anchored him to the present, the vibrations moving from his soles into his actual soul.

They broke through the trees, to the clearing, where his heart lay on the ground, white fur damp and stained red. They always said that his eyes were bloody, but no one really knew, he supposed, what the real color of blood happened to be. It was crimson, so dark it was almost black, pumping from the gashes and wounds in his side. Ghost's eyes were red like rubies, like the glow of a sunset, not the hideous hue of the liquid leaving his body as fast as his body could generate it.

His beautiful red eyes were closed, breathing labored, fighting with all the strength left in hi.m Jon didn't know what he would do if he lost him. He knelt to his companion's side, looking over at Daenerys as she began to work, pulling on gloves and instantly triaging. A finger darted out, guiding his chin up and he stared at her, watching her lips form the words clearly while her hand moved in unison.

"Hey, I'm here now."

He nodded quickly, knowing that if anything would save his wolf, it would be her. He didn't sign his response; he didn't need to, just mouthed the words, not a whisper from him. "Thank you."

In their language, the strange mix of sign, lip-reading, and gentle touches they'd perfected over the months together, he helped her stabilize him, get him onto the stretcher Arya and Gendry brought out, and into the back of the Suburban. He felt the vibrations from the siren in his head, wondering if it was even legal for her to have one when she wasn't a police officer, but he didn't care. He'd deal with it if they were stopped. it was Winterfell, everyone knew everyone. They understood what this meant.

At the hospital he fell back, while she and her assistants ran in to work on him. Arya came up to him, tried to get him to come wash his hands, change out of his bloody shirt, but he didn't move. He replayed it all in his head, how they had even gotten to this point. The tracks in the snow, the worry he felt as one of his beloved wolves had already been injured-- Lady was a gentle creature, she was too used to humans and other creatures, no doubt she thought the animal was friendly.

A fully grown male grizzly bear early awakening from hibernation, hungry and still exhausted, confused, a single wolf would not be able to survive against it, but Lady had gotten away with a gash on her muzzle, her beautiful white and gray fur marred forever with the scars she would have. He went out with Ghost, to track the animal, to try to find it and figure its location, intent on calling the game wardens and having them come to relocate the animal somewhere else. Not in his sanctuary, for instance.

And Ghost saved him.

"She's a good doctor, Jon. He'll be fine."

He signed the words, too tired to speak them. "He saved me."

Arya clutched him, her tears wet on his cheek. She tapped the words into his hand, signing them even when he wasn't looking, but he knew. "He did what he was meant to do."

Ghost saved him from a bear, but he saved him from despair and loneliness, and he gave him a voice when he had none to give.

He did what he could, pushing it from his mind, and hours passed. Hours where he wondered if his heart would stop beating, if his breath would just suddenly cease, and he would die with his wolf. What am I going to do? he wondered.

"Jon."

The light touch on his shoulder jerked his head up, seeing her sign his name, her lips forming the words, and he knew. He lunged for her, tears hot on his cheeks, wracking sobs escaping his body, shaking him to his core. She clutched him, burying her face into his neck, kissing the pulse there. He pushed by her and ran into the room, and almost collapsed atop the white form lying on the bed, stark white bandages around his body, a tube helping him breathe, but the line on the computer monitor beside him beeping.

Jon might not have been able to hear it, but he knew what those lines meant, and he verified them with his ear pressed to Ghost's chest, the steady thud lulling him into a trance.

Thud-thum. Thud-thum. Thud-thum.

He turned his face from his wolf's soft fur, kissing at his muzzle and crying, Dany behind him holding his shoulders steady as his body, exhausted and overwhelmed, just gave out, relieved. He didn't know how long he knelt there, or when someone moved him, but soon he was in his house with Dany, both of them frantic, adrenaline and need raging through them.

They tore at each other's clothes, falling into each other, consumed with desperation to just feel alive. He knew the psychology of it, the reasons why when faced with death and chaos and possible loss, the human mind and body finally synced up with the single focus of wanting to fuck, to take and give to another person's body and mind, to remind itself there is still life, there is still feeling and love and passion, even when faced with ones own mortality. We aren't dead yet, was all it repeated.

He collapsed beside her, his face buried in her chest, inhaling the slightly floral scent from her shampoo, the lavender of her body lotion, and the sweat and lingering antiseptic and coppery blood from the surgery room. His fingers sought hers, clenching, embracing over her heart.

Jon might not be able to hear her voice-- one of the only things in his life he truly missed, truly wished he could go back in time and tell the little boy not to climb that tree, not to go dancing along the edge of the castle wall, and not to slip and fall trying to beat Robb in a race. He could not hear her voice, but he could feel it, in the beating of her heart, in the steady thrum of her pulse, and the way her lips moved at his ear, the breath tickling. Her fingers sought out his, clenched tight, and she moved her hand in front of them, heads resting together on the same pillow.

“I’m here now”

He smiled, a rare sight only she got to see. He touched her lips, as she formed the words again, reassuring him, and he understood. He mouthed the words back: "I know." He then slipped his hand between them, covering her heart, and moved his fingers into the sign, the one she knew, that everyone in the world seemed to know, but for him was the hardest one of all. The only one he never used, in some ways never felt he would ever have need to use, but when Daenerys came into his life, it was the only one he felt he truly understood.

I love you.

#jonerys #jonerys au #writer prompts #writer reply #eeeeep its a little sad #why cant you do under the cut on mobile! #angst #jonerys angst #my fics

[dreams-of-valeria]

For the Xmas request thing can you do 7-Fluff and 1-Smut together?

@chiefharbour asked:

For the Christmas prompts, could you do Smut # 1 & #9? I’m living for your writing!

Cold cuts

F7: Christmas gifts

S1: Secret Santa

S9: Dealer's choice (Surprise)

Pairing: Jim Hopper x female reader

Warnings: Age gap, language, dirty talk, Hopper being his sexy-ass self, SMUT

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the sweet things you guys have said! I am overwhelmed with all the love and although this isn't strictly secret santa, I hope you like this one! Merry Christmas!

Word count: 3,156

You swayed your hips in beat with the smooth acoustic that pervaded the air of the small kitchen, as you wrapped your Christmas gift to Hopper.

Elvis crooning about being left alone on Christmas rang from his record player and with you alike, because it was 10 pm and your boyfriend wasn't home yet. You found it odd to call him your boyfriend--juvenile even, but maybe it was just the townsfolk rubbing off on you. They definitely were, considering you just said townsfolk.

As long as their opinion on age gaps in relationships didn't rub off on you, you didn't care.

Two years ago, you were just the new girl in town whose sole reason to pick Hawkins was to leave her bankruptcy behind as she paid off her student loans. A lot of help your marketing degree was doing you in a place where people called the ATM a banksy. You hated living there and missed the nice life but little did you know that meeting a certain policeman would make it all worth your while.

What followed after that fated and chaotic meet at the bank was petty banter and frustrated sighs, which took both of you a month to understand was pure sexual tension and once you'd fucked and got that out of the way, you had plenty of time for the romance.

Neither was of you was very fond of the chocolates and flowers bit, but were experts in the nude. Sure, there were plenty of gooey and touchy-feely memories along the way, and the amount of gentleness Hopper showed threw you at times. But at the same time, you loved how rough he was with you in bed. It was what you were both good at and you had no complaints. Except for the tardiness.

You sighed as you did the final knot and wrote his name on the card, vowing not to bring it up. You would not be one of those people who chastised their partner over the amount of time they spent doing their very crucial work. Provided it didn't extend beyond 11 pm. Your patience really started to wear thing close to the witching hour.

You headed to the tree and placed the small present by the trunk, grinning in anticipation. You couldn't wait to see his face when he opened it. Your heart beat in wait as you tightened the bow of your grey robe, and fidgeted with the ornaments to cut time.

You noticed that your present was the only occupant under the tree, and told yourself not to be disappointed if Hopper forgot to wrap his. Or get you a gift in the first place.

It was unlikely, but still a possibility. He was just so fizzled out lately, and you hoped it was only a bad streak.

You had just corrected the tilt of a rogue red bauble when the lock turned behind you and your boyfriend (--lover?) walked through the door, brushing the snow off his coat and boots.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted him at the entrance, leant against the wall with your arms crossed. His face looked flushed like you'd just sat on it and rode it to your climax, and there was something to be said about his unruly hair.

“I know I'm late, baby. Some people, I swear to God . . .” he grumbled as he passed by you, leaving an ice cold kiss on your lips before he settled before the fireplace, warming himself up.

You watched him as he rubbed his hands together, and the way his arms flexed underneath that tight uniform shirt. It was the hottest thing you'd ever laid eyes on, and never failed to leave you wet and wanting.

“Dinner smells amazing,” he commented with a smirk, shooting you a look from under his thick eyebrows. They matched his beard, all rich and prickly, and you suspected one of the reasons he kept it was because of the noises you were making when he went down on you.

“Did you spend all day cooking for me, darlin'?”

You smirked at him with your arms crossed.

You couldn't cook to save your life. Which meant your significant other was calling Swanson's TV dinners his darling. Nevertheless, the endearment made your knees weak. And your panties damp.

“Oh you know how I can't resist my gastronomy when I'm waiting on my tardy hunk.”

“Gastronomy?” He frowned as he kicked off his boots.

“Word of the day,” you told him as you took a seat on the couch next to him. “I thought we could do presents first.”

“I'd rather do you first, but sure,” he shrugged, turning to face you as smiled. You shook your head and watched him with a face-splitting grin, expecting him to retrieve his present from under the tree. But he just sat there watching you quizzically, dumb as the doorknob that's been keeping you company on Hopperless nights.

You sighed and told him what he was supposed to do, but he simply twisted his face unwillingly. “I'm burned, sweetheart, could you get it for me, please?”

“It's two feet away, Hop.”

“I'm not as young as you are anymore.”

“Oh really? You weren't born with a receding hairline?” You snapped as you fetched him his present, but he man laughed, which nearly made his eyes close. You absolutely loved those laughs.

“Should have thought of that before you fell in love with an old man, kitten.”

“I'll remember that for next one,” you teased, making him laugh again as he took his present with a thank you.

Maybe it was your excitement rubbing off on him, but he suddenly seemed thrilled that he had a present with his name on it. You imagined he didn't get a lot of presents before you, when he lived in that Godforsaken trailer like a hibernating hermit. You'd flat out refused to move into that rectangle and that was when he had mentioned a cabin his grandfather had owned, and the two of you had made it your own.

“Let me guess, it's a sign up sheet to Smokers Anonymous?” He teased as he undid the ribbon, and you found your back straighten in anticipation.

“Don't be silly, that's for New year's.”

He let out an amused snort as he peeled off the paper and opened the small box, and his smile died immediately on seeing the content.

It was exactly what you'd expected. He frowned deeply at the piece of paper, with the words 'Pull Me' scribbled across in your handwriting. Hopper looked up at you for answers, but you simply got to your feet and made your way over to the record player, and changed discs. You figured after Elvis, Eartha Kitt would set the mood just right.

“I don't understand,” Hopper let you know as the disc crackled for a few seconds before the song started. You wordlessly made your way over and stood in front of him with a smile, hoping his gaze would land on the ribbon tied around your robe.

It did soon enough. They didn't make him the Chief for nothing. A smirk spread across his lips when he saw it, perfectly capturing the naughty but playful mood Eartha was lilting.

You saw his eyes darken as his hand tapped his thigh, signalling you to get on. You gulped down your heart in your throat and straddled him, kneeling on the couch on either side of his legs.

“Closer.” Hopper demanded, and you leaned forward until your waist was inches away from his face. He moved his hands out of his lap, and you hoped he would touch your bare legs, and slide them up to the apex. Your heart thud in anticipation, and nearly flatlined when he locked eyes with you and took the end of the ribbon into his mouth and held it firmly between his teeth. It took you a moment to understand you had to move back for the bow to come loose.

His eyes were on you throughout the delicious process, but only until your robe parted and revealed a glimpse of red lace.

Hopper's breath caught and he looked up at you to confirm his suspicions, and you smiled as to say yes. Before he could tear your robe away, you stood to your feet again, Eartha Kitt's silky voice giving you courage.

You lightly swayed in place to the beat, and slipped the robe off your shoulders bit by bit, until you were standing only in your lingerie: a red demi cup lace bra with matching panties and a garter belt.

Hopper's breath caught, and you witnessed first hand what it looked like for a person's jaw to hit the floor. Just to up the ante, you moved around in an impromptu dance with the music, giving him sexy rolls of your hips and a view of your back, and watched him grow restless in his seat.

His knuckles blanched from squeezing the edge of the couch, but a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips. You watched the crotch of his pants shift from within and smirked, turning around to give him another look.

The song was approaching its end, and you could hear the couch springs shift. But you still yelped when his arms closed around your waist and pulled you back to straddle him as he attacked your lips.

The disc had screeched and absolute silence lingered for a beat, before Hopper slipped his tongue into your mouth and your body reacted. Loud.

His hands were frisky and urgent, just like the first time you had sex. You couldn't wait to get each other naked and take everything as quickly as possible. It didn't turn out to be quite as quick as you imagined, just like when you fantasized about him with your fingers in your underwear before you knew each other, fucking your brains out.

His calloused hands cupped your breasts and kneaded, and given the sheerness of the bra, it might as well not have been there at all. It wasn't in the next second, as his fingers unclasped the hook while his tongue still teased yours, danced with yours.

You pulled back for a breath of air, and he locked eyes with you as his hands ran over your erect nipples, pinching and twisting them until they matched the color of your lips.

“F-fuck . . .” You hissed, grinding your hips onto his bulge as his tongue teased your nubs, and you fisted your hands in his hair, goading him to swallow you whole.

Between his prickly beard and moans that vibrated through you and the friction of his pants against your clit, you could feel yourself close to your release, and started to pant in welcome.

But he clamped your hips down captive and bared his teeth against your nipple as he spoke.

“Not so fast, baby. I get to tease you too.”

“Hop, please,” you panted as your vision blurred. “I'm so close.”

He smiled wickedly.

You knew exactly what begging did to him.

“Then finish,” he breathed, before shifting you onto his left thigh. You also knew exactly how much he loved it when you rode his thigh.

“Yes, sir,” you grinned despite your aching need and started off slow, watching him as you rubbed your core against his thigh. You did it knowing it would make him cocky and let it go to his head, but you loved the dominant side of him. Especially in uniform.

Your moans escalated fast enough as you grinded against his thick cord of muscle, and Hopper helped you by flexing occasionally, hitting your clit in a rhythm. Your hand squeezed his shoulder as the other steadied yourself against the couch, and the zing birthed from your apex, and then exploded until it touched every nerve ending, and you collapsed in his lap into a moaning mess.

“That was nice,” you panted, moving your head that was on his shoulder so you could see his face, but only saw neck. Licking your lips, you kissed your way up his neck, and Hopper's answering groan was everything.

You nipped along his skin, determined to leave a bruise. Somewhere his collar couldn't hide it. Hopper said it made him look unprofessional, but you knew that secretly, he loved showing off to the entire town what you did to him. He certainly returned the favor.

Your fingers set to unbutton his shirt as you devoured his neck, the warm flesh yielding easily under your lips. Hopper was in his undershirt by the time you'd moved back to his lips, and his fingers lightly trailed down your bare back and ending behind your knees.

You yelped again when he threw your back to the couch and hovered above you, throwing his white tee over his head and onto the floor. You stared up at him with pure, unrestrained lust, and his eyes drank it all in. Every pant and heave of your naked chest spurred him to pace up undressing, and the way you licked your lips nearly sent him off the edge.

“Do you know how gorgeous you look right now?” He panted as he unbuckled his pants, kneeling between your legs.

“Yes,” you smirked, sitting up to help him get his pants off, but he pushed you back down, tutting as he pinned your arms by your sides. Your hips inadvertently met his, and you locked your legs around his waist, feeling him hard against your core.

“Tell me what you're thinking,” Hopper pleaded, kissing down your neck.

“I was thinking how nice it would be to watch you fuck me like this.”

“Yeah?” He gritted his teeth as he kicked off his pants completely, and his erection bounced free.

“Yeah,” you panted, lifting your hips as he slipped your panties off. “How nice it would be to watch your cock disappear inside me.”

Hopper groaned into your neck as he positioned himself at your entrance, and teased you by rubbing himself between your folds.

“What else?” He watched you roll your hips, wanting more.

“We'd finish and then have dinner.”

Hopper paused his teasing to glance up at you in confusion.

“And then I can hound you about not getting me a Christmas gift.”

He chuckled, kissing your nose. “Baby, I am the gift.”

Your back arched when he pushed inside all the way at once, and you could never get used to the feeling. Of how it made you feel full. Complete.

“Oh, God,” you moaned, fingers digging into his biceps as he moved.

“I did get you a gift, by the way--Godamnit, you feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Your words were punctuated by his thrusts, slow but relentless. “What is it?”

“All good things to those who wait.” He whispered in your ear, before angling himself differently. “Hold on,” he instructed, and your hands immediately flew to the couch, gripping whatever they could. You knew what was coming.

Hopper got up to kneel and grabbed your hips, before starting a rhythm of deep, penetrating thrusts that made your teeth clatter. You held on to the arm rest as he moved, as he made your body feel incredible with only a few inches of his. Well, quite a few inches.

You smiled and bit your lip as Hopper's moans quickened, and you knew he was close. He reached his thumb down to your clit and rubbed, and you felt that zing ready to explode again. You sat up on your elbows and watched him disappear deep inside you, as his fingers helped you along to a climax that was even more spectacular than the last.

You fell back as stars formed in front of your eyes, and soon felt his release inside you, before Hopper's heavy, spent body collapsed on top of you.

You panted out your highs, wrapped in each other's arms like that. The only sounds were from the crackling fire, the heartbeat in your ears, and the breath of the man you loved above you. This was exactly how you saw your evening pan out.

After a while, when you'd circled your fingers in his damp hair, he asked, “Where'd you get the lingerie?”

You smiled. “Believe it or not, Flo helped me.”

He snapped his head up to look at you, face blanched.

“Not like helped me pick it out, jeez baby,” you chuckled, smoothing his hair back. “I meant she told me about a store in Carbondale.”

“That's two towns over,” he commented, nuzzling his head back into the crook of your neck.

“I know.”

“Looks like Flo helped both of us,” he said after a while, and freed his arm from underneath you.

“So you liked it?”

“Of course,” he smiled, hovering on his elbows above you. “You want me to get exercise one way or another, but I didn't mean this is what Flo helped with.”

You frowned, seeking out answers from his crystal blue eyes. Hopper sighed and stroked your face, leaving a feather like kiss on your lips.

“She pushed me--well, threatened is the word really, that if I didn't stop jerking around and give you this gift I've been carrying around for a year, she would burn my hat.”

“You've been carrying a new microwave around for a year?” You frowned.

“No. What? No.” Hopper shook his head. “Wait, you wanted a microwave?”

“Yeah? To cook dinner.” You said in a matter of fact voice, and he sighed with his eyes closed.

“I'm sorry to break it to you, princess, but I'm not spending that much money on a girlfriend.”

You stilled, and his playful smirk was the only thing that kept you from going off the rails. And then when he held out his gift to you, your heart did go off the rails.

“However, I would change my mind if it was for my wife,” he smiled, holding the small diamond ring between his fingers in the space between you. You could feel your jaw drop this time as tears came to your eyes, and your hand flew to your mouth.

You knew about his history. You knew he had had an unsuccessful marriage, and still, he was willing to try. For you.

“So, what do you say, kitten? Microwave or not?”

You chuckled through your tears, holding his face in your hands to kiss.

“I'm gonna reheat so many leftovers for you, baby.” You sniffled, and watched his lips form into a grateful smile. And it only grew as he slipped the ring onto your finger, shedding a few tears himself.

“Sorry I didn't have time to wrap it.”

You chuckled between kisses, stroking his hair lovingly. “You can make it up to me.”

“Newly engaged sex?” He grinned, eyes full of adoration.

“After dinner,” you promised, standing corrected.

The evening did not pan as you'd foreseen.

And you were grateful.

J.

#jim hopper imagine #hopper x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper fanfic #hopper x you #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #chief hopper x reader #stranger things #hopper smut #hopper thirst #jim hopper smut #david harbour #hopper fluff #hopper x oc #christmas writing prompts #christmas

[with-a-dash-of-tea]

Chapter One of When Stars Die

Since my publisher folded, and I will be seeking new representation once it’s been removed from all distribution channels, here’s chapter one for you to enjoy! You can find When Stars Die on Goodreads. 

The sound is a dagger scraping crosshatches on a frosted windowpane, its echoes loud in this insensible room I've been locked in for the past few days. I want to remedy my fears over the sound, but I'm more terrified of the impending trials that will determine my readiness to be professed in the Order of Cathedral Reims. The trials are the reason I have been locked in here.

Colette sits beside me, lost in knitting a scarf she has been working on for a week—the amount of time we've been trapped in here with minimal food, water, and sanity. Her ability to shut out the world with a click of the needles is something I have always envied. For her, the world is nonexistent.

But not for me.

The sound strips my nerves raw, so I tighten my shawl and rise from the creaking mattress. My boot-clad feet meet the floor, and in spite of my stockings, cold still shoots through the soles, hibernating in my bones. Pulling in a deep breath of biting air, I tiptoe over to the door and press my eye to the keyhole that overlooks a bright hallway. The air freezes in my chest. I knew I heard those blasted shadows, the eerie, almost impossible sounds they make whenever their black cloaks trail along the cobbled floors of Cathedral Reims. Sometimes I wonder if they're witches, people born of the Seven Deadly Sins and considered worse than murderers in the eyes of the law. Then I remember my little brother is nothing like them. They are mere shadows. Mere shadows.

Two of them stand outside the room. I recognize them. The tall one is Asch, and the little one is Sash. I don't know where I heard their names. Here, in my dreams, in nightmares, or somewhere else.

I wish they would go away. I wish, I wish, I wish. I close my eyes. Open them. They are still there. Why must they be here? Theosodore, our Mother Superior's lackey, could gather us any moment for the first trial, a trial that will test everything we are made of, and here are Asch and Sash teasing my nerves with their cold, white fingers. But I don't know what it is about them. They haven't done anything in the two months since I've started seeing them, but their presence makes sharp fear burrow into my muscles and knot them. I believe I'm the only one who can see them. This frightens me. Perhaps waiting for these trials has made me mad.

Colette's voice rises behind me, a quiet thing in the tremors of my mind. "Are you searching for those shadows again?"

I look over my shoulder and into eyes that reflect a blue sky. I have no reason to tell her that I am. She puts down her knitting and tightens the standard gray shawl given to all girls being tested for the Professed Order. Winters are bitter in the city of Malva, especially in this winter of 1880, though the unpleasant chill is a mere prologue to the upcoming trials.

"Amelia, it's stress. We've all been stressed about these trials." She shows me her bloodied fingers. "See? I've bitten them to the nub! Now why don't you come over and let me braid your hair?"

I shake my head. I will admit nothing. And yet, I don't know why I can see them and Colette can't, or why they're even here. I keep opening my eyes and closing them, hoping they will disappear. But they don't. For whatever cryptic reasons they have, they are here and have been watching us all for the past two months.

Colette puts a hand on my shoulder that I shrug off. "Stop this nonsense, Amelia. You know how fretful you make me when you act like this. It's stress. I promise you. Just stress."

Stress. Yes, just stress. But does stress truly conjure shadows of the darkest thoughts in one's mind? I thought of tearing my hair out in clumps to reduce the stress of these trials. While I have awaited this period in my time as a sister, knowing that my performance hinges on whether or not I stay and continue on as a nun is trying. I don't want to go home. I can't go home. Home is where I'd spend days in my room, sometimes comforted by prolonged sleep, other times tortured by an unquiet mind. Cathedral Reims was the only thing able to give me some purpose, and here I am, and here is where I need to stay.

I turn back toward the door and curl my fingers against it, tapping my nails on the wood. I will not argue with Colette. Even trying to convince myself they are not real is like trying to convince one of our priests to remain celibate.

"Don't bother with me, Colette. I'll be--" Wailing erupts far down the corridor. The sound is loud enough to break the icicles clinging to our window. I'd join, but I already ache from stress. That crying has been intermittent since we were shoved and locked in these rooms. The trials are that dreadful, though we have no idea what they consist of. The screams of those being tested assure us they are far from pleasant. I look at Colette and gesture in the direction of the crying. "At least I'm not at that point."

She sighs again. "All right, then. Once this is all over, I'm certain you'll stop seeing things."

I hear the skirts of her gray dress rustle across the floor and the creaking of the mattress as she settles back on it.

I first saw the shadows on the roof of the south transept while Colette and I were in the orchard, picking plums for jam. My little brother Nathaniel was with us, but he was too busy climbing trees to take notice of anything. There were five of them, I remember. I turned away from them and whispered to Colette, "Do you see those things on the roof?"

"What things?"

"There are five of them, all in black cloaks."

She dragged me deeper into the orchard so that foliage and plums obscured my view. "You're starting to lose your mind, just like Sister Marie did. Remember what happened to her? She was so stressed about the trials last year she slit her wrists, miraculously survived, but had to be put in an asylum. Don't end up like her! Don't bring them up again. Ever. If you do see them again, just keep telling yourself they're not real."

But it's hard to believe they're not real when I see them every day, amassed in different numbers, engaged in indiscernible chatter. If they were just illusions, wouldn't I have gone truly mad by now? Wouldn't I have started seeing other things too? Wouldn't I--wouldn't I have ended up like Marie by now? Because I haven't frightens me even more, for what could this mean? Marie's sanity fell apart in just a month, and even then we sisters could see it unwinding when she started hallucinating. She saw things, like the suffering witches on the stained-glass windows, or the statues of witches nailed to stakes talking to her. We have such harrowing propaganda around Cathedral Reims.

Colette's knitting needles start clicking away. I press my eye back to the keyhole. Asch and Sash now speak in hushed tones.

Asch balls his white fists. These shadows have skin the color of clear-day clouds and eyes an endless black. The eyes alone tell me they are far from human. I hold my breath in anticipation of what he'll say. Sash, however, throws a hand over Asch's bluish, scarred lips. Thick, disfiguring scars cover Asch's entire face as though someone took a serrated knife to him. Sash narrows his eyes and opens his mouth. What comes out is loud enough for me to hear.

"You do realize there might be some people here who can see us?"

A painful cramp overtakes my stomach. He has a boyish voice. A boyish voice. He is a child. They cannot be real. They are illogical. They are demons spawned from a stressed mind whose darkest thoughts contemplate all the ways I can hurt myself to feel something other than this impending feeling that I may be inadequate for the Professed Order. But there they are, those shadows, acting, living, breathing, speaking, doing human things.

Asch grips Sash's thin wrist. Sash is such a tiny thing. He has the face of a fourteen-year-old—soft, sloped jaw, a cocky smile that emphasizes the deep cut on his upper lip. Asch brings himself down to Sash's stature, mocking the boy for what he lacks.

"You keep your tone down then. I have no doubt there are ones here who can hear and see us, but they're a minority. No one would believe them, even if they ran all over the cathedral heralding our presence."

Sash raises himself to Asch's chin. "Then you--" He looks in my direction and narrows his eyes.

I pull away from the door, realizing I've started tapping my nails against the wood again. I dig them into the grain to stop them, then pin myself against the doorframe while straining my hearing. Curse my nervous habits!

Sash speaks up. "I think someone is watching us."

I pull away from the door, final in my decision to cut them from my mind so I can cling on to the last strands of my sanity. I will need to cling to those bits if I am to survive these trials. The swishing of their cloaks meets my ears as I stride over to Colette, keeping my face passive so she suspects nothing is amiss. My sanity cannot spiral in the direction dearly departed Sister Marie's did. I sit down and start braiding Colette's tangled, blonde locks. My fingers fumble as they try to remember how to braid.

"Are your imaginary friends gone?" Colette asks, needles clicking away.

I ignore her, sweat beading down my temple. The swishing of their cloaks grows louder. They are not real. Nothing will come in here. The sound will disappear, and I can safely blame stress for their existence. I open my mouth to speak. My voice comes out dry. "I'm just--"

The door creaks open. Colette snaps her head in the direction of the door, while I keep my eyes on the frayed braid in my hand. She pulls away from me like someone screamed her name and sweeps over to the door. Out of my peripheral, the shadows casually glide into our room. They look around like they don't see us.

She reaches for the knob. "T-there must be some awful draft or something blowing down the hall to push open a locked door."

This is too much of a coincidence that their presence would push the door open and leave poor Colette believing it to be a draft. There is nothing illusory about their presence.

Colette pulls her shawl around her. "I-it's quite chilly." I don't feel a draft at all, but I'm not willowy like her. She puts her hand on the knob, then stops. "That's peculiar. The lock has come undone. Faulty lock, I suppose. Well, we're good little sisters. We won't go running from our trials." She slides the bolt back in place.

I'm antsy for the feel of her braid in my hands so the shadows don't know I can see them. She sits back down. I grab the undone braid, forcing my eyes to be lost in the tangled hair as my fingers get snarled in the straw texture. The shadows walk around our room. Their eyes burn holes in our backs.

"I know one of them can see us," Sash says, stopping in front of us. "One of them knows something. Isn't that right? One of you can see us."

My breath hitches. Now I can't be insane. The faulty lock, the blown open door--I can't continue believing they're not real, especially when Sash implied not everyone can see them. Do illusions often justify their existences to the mentally insane? I wouldn't think so.

Just don't look up, don't look up, don't look up.

Conversation. That's what I need, a conversation with Colette. Swallowing the lump in my throat and wetting my lips with my tongue, I say, "What do you think the first trial will be?" The ease with which the question tumbles off my tongue surprises me. My calm tone does not match the way my nerves feel, like they're being drawn taut through a loom.

Asch's voice comes out in a lilt. "You're imagining things, Sash. I don't think we're any closer to finding one than we were two months ago."

They are looking for people like me then, ones who can see them.

Colette looks over her shoulder, forcing me to adjust my arms so I can keep braiding her hair. "I've tried not to think about the trials. I can't even speculate. I had nightmares when I first heard the screams from the last group Mother Aurelia put through. I dreamt these trials manifested our greatest fears," she says.

I have to tense my hands to keep them from shaking. Fear cannot be present on my face, not with these shadows around. "What is your greatest fear?"

I look up briefly to find Asch nudging Sash closer to us. "Just touch one of them, Sash, if you're so certain one of these girls is what we're looking for. After all, we can touch them. We just can't touch those who can't see us."

Colette lets out a small laugh, drawing my eyes to the blueness of her eyes as she turns around and looks at me, her braid falling softly against her back. "If I talk about my greatest fear, I think I might go insane. Let's try not to think about the present. Let's think about the future, about what great nuns we'll make."

Sash reaches out a pale hand. Part of me wants to run, scream, cry, while another part of me desperately prays Sash changes his mind and realizes he isn't looking for me. I know nothing of what these shadows intend to do with the people they're looking for, but instinct says what they want to do can't be good. I have to bite my tongue to keep my voice from wavering. "I suppose you're right. Talking about fears won't do us any good. Let's just remind ourselves why we're here in the first place."

Colette nods, breaking into a smile. "I'm here because the physical world isn't enough for me."

I grab for Colette's braid as Sash draws near. "I'm here because--" I can't say why I'm really here. I promised Nathaniel I'd tell no one. He would never forgive me if I did. "I'm here because I was dissatisfied with my home life and I wanted something more."

Sash's fingers are a centimeter from my cheek. He's going to--

They whip their heads away from us.

"Shit," Sash says. "He's coming. I can hear him. We have to leave, Asch. He can't catch us in here. He can't catch us at all."

Asch bolts for the door. "We'll keep a closer eye on these girls, if that'll satiate your curiosity."

They throw open the door and vanish into the brightness of the hallway. Whoever this 'he' is has frightened them away. At the same time, I do not want to meet this 'he,' not in the least. This person might be more frightening than the shadows.

Colette approaches the open door. For a brief moment I swear I see panic in her eyes. Shivering overtakes that panic, however. Her voice wavers as she says, "B-blasted lock. It's cold, so cold. I feel like the temperature has dropped tenfold." An undertone of fear edges her voice--or that could be from the cold. "Let's be good sisters and let Mother Aurelia know our lock is broken, all right, Amelia?"

I nod, sighing as my nerves release my muscles. I thank our god, Deus. Thank Deus they're gone. Thank Deus they are gone.

Colette lets out a gasp.

Theosodore, the Mother Superior's assistant, has a firm grasp of Colette's wrist. Her wrist looks like a willow branch in his meaty hand the size of my skull. He looks at her with his infamous jagged smile and strokes the thorny whiskers jutting from his chin. "Are we trying to escape, Sister Colette?"

Did the shadows run from this man, this man who must stand seven feet tall, who looks imposing in stark gray robes lined with black threads? He could kill us in silence, and no one would ever know. This is the man who beats us when we step out of line, though he has neither touched Colette nor I. He must be the one the shadows ran from, but why?

Theosodore's smile turns vicious, shoving all thoughts of the shadows from my mind. His presence means the first trial is here. His presence means our fate has begun. His presence means our futures will be determined over the next month, if we can survive.

Colette looks Theosodore full in the face, fear nonexistent in her eyes. "I wasn't trying to escape. The lock is broken. The door has been blowing open all day."

Theosodore narrows his dark brown eyes, forming menacing creases on his forehead. He grabs Colette's other wrist and pins her against the doorframe, drawing his face to hers so that there is barely a space between them. I'll bet he smells like wine that has fermented for only a week. "Don't lie to me. You're not the first to attempt escape."

She draws her eyebrows together. "Call me a liar if you please, but you will have to let Mother Aurelia judge that."

Theosodore lets go of Colette's wrists. He keeps his face close to hers. "I'm not here to start a fight or punish you. I'm here to gather you girls for the first trial. That will take care of whatever misgivings you may harbor about being professed." His jagged smile returns wider than before. "That will be a punishment in itself."

He gestures us out into the hall, where we find other sisters in gray dresses and tattered shawls huddling for each other's scarce warmth. The stained-glass windows make outside bleary, but they don't disguise the snowfall that curtains the world in white. Theosodore starts to lead us down the hall. Colette latches her icy hand on my own. Despite being couched in a group of bodies, the cold slices through me even more than it did in that room, shivers disguising any nervousness I feel for the impending test. As we make our way to the first trial, I spy Sash peering out from behind a statue of a witch tangled in a noose. He's looking at no one in particular, until I pass.

Then he locks his eyes on mine, and I find myself pulling on Colette to press us farther in the crowd of bodies. Though I no longer look at him, in that one gaze alone I could see the words on his mind: I know you can see us, and I'm going to prove that you can.

He will be at the trial. He will watch me at the trial. I already know. Deus, if you can hear my prayer, you will steer him away from me. If he is there, if he is present at every trial, then I just know I will never be professed. I will have to go home to parents who haven't seen my brother and I in three years. I will have to go home to a future far more uncertain than this one.

I can't bear that. I'd rather die.

#ya fiction #amreading #books #dark fantasy #paranormal romance

[vixxscifiwritings]

Hijo De La Luna (3/3)

Series: Greed Of Gods

Adaptation Source - Hijo De La Luna (Spanish: Son of the moon)

Warnings - The source material from which the story is adapted is problematic and contains themes of racism, violence and adultery. I’d recommend reading it with a grain of salt. This story also contains tones of homophobia and M-Preg.

A/N - Tagging @lrobin18, @tomatoholmes and @merlionmen who have had to wait too long for this! 

 Summary - Taekwoon has always wanted a child and Hakyeon has always wanted to marry his love. So Hakyeon prays to the Moon.

Find all parts here

Hakyeon looked over to his side. The tent was still dark, daybreak a few moments beyond the horizon. The stars were fading giving way to the dark black sky.

“Are you awake?” he whisper asked. A soft snore answered Hakyeon’s question. Wonshik was a warrior but he had the alertness of a bear in hibernation. It had always been hardest to wake him in the mornings.

“How romantic”

Hakyeon started, sitting up in panic. Who was here? Had they been discovered? Who had spoken?

“You might wished to get dressed dearest. Dawn is about to break”

Hakyeon turned to the entrance of the tent, where a man sat on the ground. He played with a small clay top, spinning it and watching it till it fell before lifting it up again.

“Who are you?” Hakyeon asked, holding the sheets up to cover himself. He had a hand on Wonshik who was lying still. Too still. Had he been poisoned or knocked out unconscious? Was this man a spy? He certainly looked nothing like the people from their tribe. Had he been placed to take advantage of the great feast and kill Wonshik while no one else was around.

Hakyeon debated his chances. He couldn’t tell how much Wonshik was hurt and the intruder looked to be well built and strong. He had to kill them quickly and silently.

“Murderous thoughts won’t do well for the children” the stranger said, picking up the top mid spin.

“What do you mean?” Hakyeon asked, despite himself. He reached for his clothes while keeping his eyes on the stranger. The stranger stood up, turning away to give Hakyeon some privacy.

Hakyeon took the chance to dress himself, wishing he had fresh clothes to wear. But now was not the time to be distracted.

“The Moon blessed you with two children was it not?” the stranger asked, picking up the goblet that Hakyeon had left behind on the table last night.

“How do you know this?” Hakyeon asked warily.

“The Moon and I are… close. Brothers even” the stranger explained, drinking the moonstone wine from the goblet. The words triggered an understanding in Hakyeon. It fit together then, the golden hair and the sun kissed skin.

“My apologies, God of Earth” Hakyeon said kneeling down. It brought an onslaught of dizziness that thankfully faded as soon as it came.

“You should avoid fast movements” Hongbin said, turning to face the man. He took Hakyeon’s hand and helped him stand gently. Hakyeon flinched at the blazing warmth of his skin.

“We must leave before the day starts” Hongbin told him.

“Where are we going? And why is Wonshik unconscious?” Hakyeon asked. He worried that he had overstepped his boundaries. Hongbin’s glare did not help.

“You took the Moon’s gifts selfishly. Did you not think of its consequences?” Hongbin asked, narrowing his eyes at Hakyeon and stepping closer to him. “Did you not think of how you were to bear the children of this union? How they would be unnatural when man was not meant to bear life within him? Or of what lives they would lead, shunned due to their very nature of birth?”

“You carry the Moon’s blessing to you but that favour was not freely given” Hongbin added. Hakyeon clutched at his stomach, feeling a wave of terror and nausea hit him at the same time.

“Your precious lover will be fine. You must leave at once. Daybreak and dusk is the only time that the Sun and Moon cannot touch you. I can help you. But you must come away at once” Hongbin told him.

“You wish to help me?” Hakyeon asked.

“The life you bear now has done nothing wrong. I bear them no ill will. And none to you either. You’re not the first mortal to have been this foolish and neither will you be last. But the Sun is coming up and you must either come away or stay behind forever” Hongbin warned.

The sky outside was starting to turn light blue. Hakyeon took one last look at Wonshik. The god of Earth was benevolent. He had to believe it.

“Help me” he begged, taking Hongbin’s hand in both of his own. Hongbin nodded grimly.

-x-

“Where are my children?!” Taekwoon raged. He grabbed the ink bottle kept on his desk and threw it at his mirror. The glass shattered, the ink splattering on the curtains.

“How dare he?” Taekwoon asked Jaehwan who was leaning against the door. “How dare my own brother do this to me?”

“Come now dearest. Your brother means well. He might be the only one able to help him” Jaehwan said, taking the god into his arms.

“Find him. I don’t care what it costs. I will rip him from the wretched grasp of the earth if I must” Taekwoon promised.

“Come to rest now my dear. It has been a long night” Jaehwan consoled.

Where had Hongbin hidden Hakyeon?

-x-

“Has there been any word of Hakyeon?” Wonshik asked, chopping pieces of wood.

The tribe had had a long moment of peace with quite a few days passing since the last skirmish. The days had been too cold with the sun always hidden behind clouds and mist while the nights grew cold and windy. The bad weather had turned their enemies away but the village fared badly due to the sudden growth in illness amongst the tribe’s folk. Wonshik had instructed the men to gather more food and firewood, hoping the stormy weather wouldn’t last too long.

The storms brewing on the outside had nothing on the turmoil in Wonshik’s head and heart. A part of him worried for Hakyeon and his sudden disappearance after their last night together. The rest of him thought that maybe this was for the best. What future did they have, sinning as they had?

Perhaps it had all been a test from the gods. The effect of the moonstone had faded by the second night and left Wonshik feeling empty and deprived of the power in his veins that he had grown to cherish. And Hakyeon had appeared one night and then vanished, perhaps an illusion. Maybe the gods had judged him unworthy and taken his power away.

“He hasn’t been seen since the last new moon, Chief” the boy collecting the cut pieces of wood told him. Wonshik’s axe fell with one swoop, breaking the log in two. “His house lies abandoned on the edge of the village. They say he went to the mountains to meditate but I don’t think he survived” the boy said.

Wonshik struck the log with more force than needed. His hands rung in reaction to the excessive force as the blade wedged itself into the rock.

“Fix it” Wonshik ordered, displeased at the boy’s mouth running loose. Hakyeon wasn’t the type to give up easily.

“Yes Chief” the boy said, bending over himself. He had sensed that he had erred and hastily wished to correct himself. In a small tribe as this, to earn the Chieftain’s displeasure was to earn certain social exile.

Wonshik looked over the hill that the village resided on. He could see the settlements to the base and a few scattered huts on the top that stood apart from the others. Even if Hakyeon was home, it was quite possible for him to avoid the tribe. And if he had felt any confused as Wonshik had over their act then it was no surprise that he had hidden himself away.

But the absence for days had been worrying Wonshik. Wonshik told the boy to finish up with the firewood before heading off in the direction of Hakyeon’s hut.

It was a long trek back, with people who wished to greet the chieftain obstructing him. But Wonshik managed to escape and made his way to the forest. He had remembered talking to Hakyeon about the trees and how Hakyeon would tell him stories of befriending squirrels. Hakyeon had sounded like a forest spirit to him in those times. A small wonder that he had successfully meditated and been granted a blessing from the Moon God.

And Hakyeon had caught him at a good time too. The tribe elders believed that the bad weather had been due to the Sun and Moon gods being displeased by humans. If Hakyeon had moved the gods now, he would certainly have been cursed instead of blessed.

Hakyeon’s hut was surrounded by a garden just like Wonshik remembered from years ago.  It had been quite a while since he had visited. The garden lay abandoned with weeds starting to grow between Hakyeon’s carefully potted plants. Rodents had bitten at the fruits that had fallen to the ground. There was no sound from anywhere in and around the hut. Hakyeon’s had outlived his family, being the sole survivor in a particularly bloody skirmish.

It seemed like no one was home. Wonshik knocked on the door before walking in. A heavy puff of dust greeted him and he knew that Hakyeon hadn’t been home for days. He would never let his home reach such a state of disarray.

“It was about time that you came looking for your lover.”

Wonshik pulled out his knife in a flash and turned to the source of sound. There was a man sitting by the window. Petite, blonde and brightly skinned. He was dressed in golden jewelry and finery along his black robes. A stark contrast to the modest things Hakyeon owned.

“Fear not, child. I too am looking for your lover in his best interests” the man said, making Wonshik’s knife vanish with a wave of his hand. The man turned outside, watching the gloomy skies.

“Why are you looking for… my friend?” Wonshik asked the man warily.

“He has a debt to repay. I am merely here to collect it” the man replied.

“Who are you and what do you want with Hakyeon? Do you wish to harm him? What debt does he owe you?” Wonshik asked, emboldened by the fact that the man had answered his question without hesitation.

“I do not wish to harm Hakyeon. And you have already played your part. The debt can only be fulfilled by Hakyeon alone” the man told him.

“Are you the Moon God?” wonshik asked, eyes to the floor. The divine radiance could not be hidden even in the dark lighting of the home.

“You mistake me for another but I am a God” the man agreed.

“The Sun God then” Wonshik said.

“Correctly identified. What you wish to do with that knowledge, I do not know” Jaehwan said, dismissing the man.

“You were looking for Hakyeon. He has a debt to you?” Wonshik prodded further.

“To the Moon God. In return for the favour that he shared. With you” Jaehwan told him, turning to him to give him his full attention.

“I ask forgiveness for taking the boon that wasn’t meant for me” Wonshik said getting down on his knees in apology. “For the debt that Hakyeon owes, I shall do my best to repay it.”

Jaehwan narrowed his eyes at the man. He was rather persistent and stubborn, looking to save his lover as well as he could. But who had survived the wrath of the Moon?

“If you truly wish to not attract the ire of the Moon as well then find your lover. You have ten days before the Moon unleashes his fury and destroys your tribe” Jaehwan told him. Wonshik nodded, his fists clenching. What had Hakyeon gotten them all into now?

-x-

“How do you feel now?” Hongbin asked, laying out fruits for Hakyeon to eat.

“I still feel unusual” Hakyeon said, fiddling with his longer hair. “The feminine form feels natural for bearing children and in many ways feels natural to me but I also feel like I do not truly belong.”

“Gender identity has always been fluid. Perhaps you do not lie at either extreme end” Hongbin said, consoling the man. “And regarding your biological form, I had no choice but to change you. For the sake of the children. You are free to retain whichever form you like after you give birth.”

“I am not ungrateful but I still have not understood why you chose to help me” Hakyeon confessed, caressing his swollen belly. we The earth god had been nothing but kind to him since the day they had arrived.

“Have you considered that I am being selfish and only helping my brother’s children? Maybe I wish to keep my children and throw you out of my home” Hongbin asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I cannot thank you enough” Hakyeon started only to be shushed by Hongbin.

“You have expressed your gratitude on multiple occasions and I have accepted it. You must eat. And rest should you wish for the children to be healthy” Hongbin told him. Hakyeon nodded, silently picking up food from the platter.

“You were deep in thought when I came in. What were you thinking about?” Hongbin asked, sitting next to him.

“I was merely wondering about Wonshik. I left with no explanation” Hakyeon confided in him. Hongbin closed his eyes, thinking to himself.

“I wish he were here with me” he said, huffing out.

“The children will be born any day now. Perhaps you shall visit him after” Hongbin said. He made no promises. Hakyeon had to pay his debt to Taekwoon first and Hongbin snatching him away had definitely not helped their cause.

“Can't I go to him now?” Hakyeon asked. Hongbin shook his head in response, pushing the platter of fruits to him.

“I wonder if he misses me” Hakyeon said.

“He has been searching heaven and hell for you” Hongbin told him.

“Why can't I go to him? Please. Just once. I only wish to see him once” Hakyeon pleaded.

“It is dangerous to move in this state” Hongbin said firmly.

“Can't he come to us?” Hakyeon asked. “Please. I'll do anything you wish of me.”

“I shall consider it” Hongbin said, staying silent afterwards. Hakyeon's smile showed the beginnings of hope.

-x-

“Hakyeon where are you?” Wonshik asked, sitting down by the stream. It had been eight days and the gods were not happy. The storms raged on, the elders fearful of floods and landslides wiping out humanity itself in an uproar.

It had been easy to lie to the tribe folk. Wonshik had sworn he would go on a quest to appease the Gods and find a way to end the storms. He had entrusted the job of finding shelter and protecting his people to his half brother Sanghyuk. He had left seven days ago.

As the deadline drew closer, Wonshik grew more weary and resigned. Night fell slowly, the distinction between the cloudy evening sky and blue night sky blurred. There was no moon tonight.

“I pray to you God of Earth. Help me find him or innocent lives will be taken in vain” he prayed, looking down at the mud below his feet.

“Those lives are hardly innocent” a man said, appearing next to him. Wonshik jumped, not quite used to Gods appearing and disappearing as they pleased.

“There are helpless children among them” Wonshik begged. “Help me save some if not all.”

“I make no promises. Mankind hasn’t been very just in their treatments to me” Hongbin said smoothly.

“Please help me find Hakyeon. I will protect him no matter what the cost” Wonshik said. His desperation was apparent in his voice.

“I can take you to him. Of all times, he would want you near the most now” Hongbin said. Wonshik furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. But he nodded all the same.

Hongbin took his hand, vanishing and reappearing in a place Wonshik didn’t know. It was inside a stone building he was sure. There was no indication of night or day here. No sign of anyone else except a long corridor in front of him.

“The last room. But I can’t guarantee that he would want to see you” Hongbin warned him. Wonshik nodded. He took off wordlessly, following the narrow passage. He walked by doors which looked to be sealed, till he came upon the last one.

He opened the door only to be stopped in his tracks by the sight in front of him. Hakyeon lay on a bed his eyes closed while two little children lay in a cradle next to his bed.  One was dark skinned and looked fairly blue. It lay unusually still while his brother, more pale of the pair bawled.

“What is the meaning of this?” Wonshik asked, unsettled by the sight.

“You’re too late. Our son didn’t survive” Hakyeon replied. His tears were more visible when he turned to Wonshik who backed away.

“Our… son? Two men can’t have children Hakyeon” Wonshik said.

“These are our children whether you believe me or not” Hakyeon said, wiping his tears away.

“Is this the blessing the Moon God gave you? Children? Unnatural beasts born from an unnatural act?” Wonshik asked angrily.

“They aren’t unnatural! Hongbin helped me birth them. They aren’t ordinary but they aren’t beasts. Or weren’t” Hakyeon protested.

“And what did you promise in return?” Wonshik asked, firmly not looking at the little children.

“The Moon God said he would take his favour on the day our first child was born” Hakyeon confessed.

“He intends to take your first born child as his own” Hongbin added, standing at the door.

“I… I can’t” Hakyeon said holding his daughter close to him. She was a stark contrast from both her parents. Silver hair and pale skin and blue eyes that twinkled like stars.

“If you don’t give him the child, he will destroy the world and take it from you” Wonshik told him. “People will die for that monstrosity!”

“This is our child!” Hakyeon yelled.

“That is not my child! That is a monster and our entire tribe will be killed because you refuse to give it up!” Wonshik yelled back.

“Her! And this is my child! You will take her over my dead body” Hakyeon said fiercely.

“That might come to pass sooner than you think. My brother is here and he won’t leave without his child” Hongbin said, looking down the corridor they had come from.

“Wonshik. Wonshik please. I can’t give our only child away. Help me protect him” Hakyeon pleaded.

“You have to give it away. These are gods Hakyeon. This isn’t a petty squabble in the tribe. That beast has no future amongst men” Wonshik explained.

“You horrid horrid man” Hakyeon cried, throwing an antique from the table near him to Wonshik. The little girl started to cry and Hakyeon held her close, holding back tears himself.

“Taekwoon” Hongbin said, blocking the doorway.

“Tonight is not the night for this” Jaehwan warned.

“I have come to take my child” Taekwoon said simply and said nothing more. He side stepped his brother and walked into the room.

“This is my daughter! I gave birth to her!” Hakyeon yelled.

“And you wouldn’t have done it without my blessing you foolish mortal” Taekwoon hissed.

“No… no please no. don’t take her away from me. Please no” Hakyeon whimpered as Taekwoon took the child in his arms. She had such beautiful eyes, he thought.

“Hold him if you do not wish to see him dead” Jaehwan suggested. Wonshik hesitated, unsure of how to approach Hakyeon.

“Please don’t let him take my child” Hakyeon pleaded to Hongbin who wa equally as helpless.

“It never belonged to you” Taekwoon reminded him.

“Please. Please don’t separate us. That’s my child” Hakyeon begged, holding Taekwoon’s robes.

“I have no use for you now” Taekwoon said stepping away from the man.

“We must leave dearest. The storms won’t stop till you return to your abode in the heavens” Jaehwan said. He had no interest in the child but this had gone on long enough. Taekwoon nodded.

Hakyeon panicked. He knew that if they left he would never see his daughter again. He lunged for the god but Taekwoon acted faster. A sharp white blade pierced Hakyeon through the stomach, stopping him in his tracks. Wonshik screamed as Hakyeon fell. He rushed to his side, cradling the man.

“Stupid mortal, challenging a god” Jaehwan said to himself, feeling some sort of pity for the fool.

“Was it worth this?” Hongbin asked Taekwoon as he took in the scene. Wonshik was terrified while the life slowly ebbed out of Hakyeon’s body. The exhaustion from childbirth and the transformation back had depleted his body of any healing energy.

“I would do anything for my child” Taekwoon replied, cradling the little soul. Jaehwan covered the baby in a small blanket and the two gods disappeared, taking the moon child with them.

-The End-

#vixx fanfiction #story: hijo de la luna #vixx leo #vixx n #vixx ken #vixx ravi #vixx hongbin #I didnt want it to end this way #but I write tragedies so

[lunarian-sim]

Short Story

Hi, guys. I know I have been mostly inactive, but it’s just that I am working on something that would be worth sharing. However, ever since winter I have been switching between different AUs and have now firmly decided to work on a fantasy one set in a fictional world (actually, I have been working on it for a couple of months now). 

That being said, I still have some things written for the contemporary AU story. And there is this little snippet from it that I would like to share. Obviously, it was meant to be a scene within a bigger story, but (I suppose) with a little bit of explanatory synopsis it should make sense.

This little scene involves Lovio and Runa (A/N to those who don’t know, Autumn = Runa. Yeah, I know, someone should sue me for changing character names). This particular scene short story is told from Lovio’s POV.  

Context: Lovio is an author disenchanted with life who works as a bartender. Runa is a pestering girl with odd quirks who blackmails Lovio to write his unfinished novel. Only because the main character of the said novel happens to share Runa’s name.

A couple of months have passed since they first met. Lovio is alone at the bar, finishing his shift, when Runa comes searching for him to apologize. Lovio tried to defend Runa against her father who was mistreating her only for Runa to crucify Lovio’s cheek with a slap, telling him to know his place.

Word count:  2184 words

Polishing yet another glass, I allowed myself a glance through the window. It was a 2AM kind of dark outside, seething into the dim-lighted premises of the bar. It never occurred to me before to properly explore the newly furnished bar with senses other than sight. And for whatever impulse of the moment, I closed my eyes and tried to make sense of my surroundings. It was quiet, and I realized that recently I have not been enjoying silence at all. Safe for the cars outside, and the humming of an air conditioner, the place had a hallowed feel of voicelessness. It was as if my ears were full of water trapped inside. Yet, even in that state of sound numbness, I heard or I felt the steps of someone who was obviously counting their strides.

Without exerting an effort to open my eyes, I told that the bar was closed. However, I knew that most sensible human beings would already assume that given the half-lowered blinds, and non-sensible ones would not have a care in the world about something as trivial as boundaries. Physical or otherwise.

"I am an employee, remember? You do remember, right?" 

Even before I heard a female's voice, I knew it was Runa. Very much present and persistent Runa. I kept my eyes shut for another brief moment. I don't know, perhaps, still doubting that she has unveiled herself from whatever hibernation she had been in. I bet the earflap she gave me last time required a lot of effort on her part and she had no choice but to go into yet another of her energy conserving modes. Or at least I had hoped it exhausted her at least that much. I wasn't sure what exactly was my problem anymore, nor why did she come here at such an hour. I finally opened my eyes and gave her a quick scan. Runa looked like Runa. Exactly how Runa usually looked like. Although her face was never devoid of expression, her eyes still had an empty look to it, much like the glass I held in my hand. She wore a plain dress of plain white color, secured by plain chiffon ribbons.

"Tables over there could use some cleaning" - I lied. 

I had already scrubbed off most of the surfaces in the bar. And ruthlessly so. Nonetheless, I tossed over a piece of white cloth, but it didn't nearly look as pristine in color when compared to her dress. Much to my surprise she didn't say another word and indulged in cleaning. Ironically so, cause it would usually take an arm and a leg to have her shut up or do chores for that matter. I failed to see the reason for her being here, at this place, at this exact moment. Ungrateful to the divine provision of the gift of her muteness, I defiled the awkward silence:

"Why are you here? And at an hour like this?" "To cleanse these tables off the dust" - she said as if a midnight sanitization was her most cherished fetish. 

Maybe it was. I had truly begun to believe that no longer anything she did would make me do as much as blink twice. I had been pushed out through the window, had my privacy violated in the most bizarre ways possible, my things stolen, my psyche exhausted, my face slapped. The list was endless. In the mere months that I knew her, she had already lost the element of surprise. And the only thing she could surprise me with was keeping her mouth shut for more than 2 seconds. I think I was finally getting used to having her always there, though as a thorn in the sole, which you just kind of learn to live with. I spent another glance on her, but all I could see was her frame from behind. I decided to stop wasting time on pointless questions and concentrate on fine-tuning of the glasses. If there was a reason for her visitation, she would surely let that reason be known, but in her own time.

"That's... A lie" - she said - "I went to your apartment, but no one was at home.. So I thought that.. Maybe I could find you here and.."

I felt her waiting for my response, it hung in the air as if she was withholding her breath. But I said nothing. 

"Lovio, are you angry at me? You are angry, aren't you?" she asked again and I gave it a good thought. I concluded that I wasn't, but I didn't entertain the idea of being hit either. 

While I never denied to myself nor others just how much of an asshole I was, (if anything, I might as well have established the fact one time too many), I also never got hit unjustly so. Somehow I always preferred having a verbal quarrel on clashing opinions, and would always leave physical means of doing so to fools who couldn't defend themselves using logic and reason. And I didn't take Runa as one of those fools who would resolve to violence. Nor as someone who would go out of her way to say sorry for something she did. Not that I thought her to be unapologetic, I just kinda thought she didn't have the marbles to distinguish what was bad and what was not. Part of me was glad that if we were not on the same page, at least we were in the same book. And I had to admit that seeing Runa de Miel admitting her fault was a sight to withhold.

"Fine..!" - she said, changing from defense to offense tactics with no visible effort - "I will have you know that I definitely did not seek you to say "sorry", let alone "thank you" for something I didn't ask!" - she continued with her recital, as I said nothing fascinated by the play of lights in the glass neither half empty nor half full. 

She was beginning to piss me off, and it had only been 5 minutes since her arrival, and 3 minutes since she opened that hell of a mouth. All sorts of comebacks flashed inside my head, but for whatever reason, I remained unasked.

"And I hope you will understand this. I am not a damsel in distress that needs your saving. I don't know what impression you got, but not everyone has daddy issues like you do."

She put an effort to spit out that last part with all the harmless venom I am sure her body operated on. I aligned myself to face her, with only the bar dividing the two of us, and now I understood why my body insisted on mouth sealed shut. Ultimately, to her, my silence was more insulting than anything my brain and sarcastic tongue would have produced. She sank to the floor and for a moment there I thought she would start crying. However, she just sighed and said that everything didn't sound nearly as aggressive in her head. 

"What a nuisance.. What a nuisance" - she hugged her knees - "and after I have recited it so many times..."

"All gone to waste, huh?" 

She laid down on the floor with her arms stretched far as if trying to make an angel of non-existent snow. I walked around from behind the bar and stood by her side like a hovering sword of Damocles. Runa kept her eyes shut, breathing heavily like one would after a brisk jog. Her chest inflated and deflated softly. From up close I could see that she was slightly dewy from sweat and the little drops of it pooled at the notch of her scar. The scar that divided her chest in two. The curiosity to see just how far down it went was overwhelming.

I snapped back from that moment of haze and sat beside her, resting my forearms on the knees. She didn't flinch. I guessed, Runa didn't respect the personal space of others because she didn't have a sense of her own privacy. Her breathing was still frantic, and the look on her face had a faint painful edge to it. She truly looked to be plagued by fever, but she didn't seem ill to me at all. Most likely she didn't handle confrontations well, or it was that important to apologize. The mere act of me jeopardizing her efforts seemed to be agonizing.

"Aren't you a little bit too old to be throwing tantrums like that?" "Right now I am exactly 6 years old, it's October and I am lying down under a golden chestnut..."

I tried to make sense of what she was saying, but it was futile. Whether or not there was something to be read between the lines, it was beyond my comprehension. I leaned closer.

"And then, one chestnut fell down" - I flicked her forehead declaring we were even from then on. A quiet moment went by and I couldn't tell what she was thinking because the hand she used to cover her forehead hid her eyes as well. It was then I heard a little, hushed sob.

"Idiot, Lovio..." - she removed her hand from the eyes and they no longer bore that idiosyncratic emptiness. No, that glass was half empty with tears. She got up from her idle rest pressing her fingers firmly against the surface of her forehead. "Chestnuts have spikes when they fall!" - she said straight to my face and proceeded to rub her skin commenting that one might have as well be stuck in there.

"Your imagination is a little bit off." "It's not my imagination. It's called age regression. I am very adept at it." "You just invented that, didn't you?" "I most certainly have no credit in that! To picture myself back in time, when I was pain-free.. It’s what I did." - she stood up and fixed the corners of her dress - "And you just ruined a perfectly fine memory! I expect you take responsibility for it."

I opened my mouth to ask just how I was supposed to do that, but the next thing I knew her feet got entangled with mine and she lost her balance. My body reacted on its own, trying to prevent her from collapsing to the hard floor, and in the sequence of those unfortunate events she ended up collapsing on me, instead.

Despite her constant intruding antics, it was the first time I had a view of her from that close, but still, no idea of whatever she might had been thinking. There was no sight of embarrassment nor unease in her eyes, that much I was sure of. As if my presence did not have any effect on the matter whatsoever. I might have noticed an edge of contempt, identical to that time when she slapped me for trying to.. Stand up for her? Well, I wasn't sure myself what I was trying to accomplish back then, but it seemed she didn't like being treated like a "damsel in distress". Or maybe it was a lie, a reverse psychology shit or something. However, I knew as much as just like back then, my body acted without me willing it to. A treacherous lump of meat. Her stare was unsettling and I felt my body go limp as if there was no hard floor beneath to support me.  

"I bet you could trip over your own shadow" - I said. "My shadow is a tricky little bastard. He likes to see me fall to his level." "I am sure he does." "I am going to say it again. I will wait for you to take responsibility for a ruined memory." "Hold your breath while you are at it."

Yet, I found myself deprived of the right to breathe when she pressed her lips against mine. Runa was on top of me and pressing her lips against mine. That was the least and, at the same time, the most I was able to comprehend. I wasn't able to think about anything else. Not about the heat of where her bare skin touched mine. Not about my own hands that were on her back and had been there ever since she fell. Not about all other ways my body reacted. Ways that put to shame the hard floor that was supposedly still there. The kiss didn't last more than a couple of seconds unless I had completely lost the sense of the time. She withdrew as peacefully as she had attacked. I stared blank, and she stared back. Completely unfazed.

"That will do... I will picture it the next time I am in pain" - she smiled. A smile which I couldn't label neither as genuine nor fake. In one swift move, she stood up and adjusted a slipped chiffon ribbon back to its place. My mind regained its consciousness, as I knew for sure it took her exactly seventeen strides to fade away. And I still laid on the floor until the sun came up.

#if you read it I already love you #non sims #short story #Runa #Lovio

[amieyhko]

Miracles

28 nov 2020

"There's magic in our bones" is a phrase that has been repeating in my head recently. I get it, a lengthy debate on the meaning of the word magic could take place— it's usually tricks and frills. But, what if we just take the essence of how magic feels like when it happens to us? Like that moment when the light at the crossing turns green just as you approach it or the way each hue of the sunset feels like it's painted for you. It's the same sensation that's got me into doing backstage work. I'm trying to see it everyday, though.

I feel like if we chose to embrace each little moment as an ordinary miracle, there's a certain exchange of grace and gratitude beyond our imagination. Making true choices has been my challenge October 2020. I've learned that there are four types of choices. True ones take place only out of love and commitment to grow, the others are made from fear, denial or just sheer mafan-mentality.

Being born in October definitely wasn't my true choice but I truly believe I was born in the most perfect month. Autumn's my favorite. My birthday usually coincides with the Jewish New Year but this year was an exception. Nonetheless, I welcomed twenty-six as a fresh new journal page, expectant of what will be scribbled here.

I've had a decent birthday despite the fact that I only know just a handful of people in Seoul. My cousins got me ice cream cake, my parents sang me songs via video call, church gave me a warm cheer, and my favorite people called to give me a birthday prayer. Oh, and I went on a pizza picnic date with this boy. Please gush, I give you permission. Q&A's can take place via private messaging.

Then the very next day, God gave me his own little version of a birthday gift. Technically, nothing was belated because He has His own timezone. As I planned to doze off into a nap (I might be turning into a hibernating bear, this weather change is something else) God spoke clearly to my imagination. In this scene, I said "I'm staying. Not because this place makes my skin clearer. Not because of the new bridges I'm building. Nor is it because the food is yummy or I love this new found independence. God wants to show me something crazy. He wants me to stay. There's a reconciliation happening for me. Remember the fences I've built around this country? They will crumble."

As my mind said these things, I sobbed then fell asleep. Peace is joy resting. That evening, I told my parents of my new prerogative from God. They said it is well.

Then came the tsunamis of worrier umma and warrior appa—I let them be as discussions circled around money, housing, and job. Usually our video chats involve umma spewing for a solid five minutes and I nodding at her remarks and appa concluding with constructive suggestions and a prayer. Umma has been crying almost every family prayer session. My parents are a gentle reminder of our Heavenly Father who provides abundantly.

Almost as soon as I decided to stay, the pastor at the church I decided to attend regularly said "Oh yeah, I had a feeling God wanted you to stay. Let's get coffee sometime, would love to talk to you." Shocked and at peace, I agreed to meet up with lovely Pastor Sun who shared her hopes, dreams, and visions with me about an upcoming project. She offered me something of a dream job.

A couple weeks back before our meeting, she briefly mentioned this project at church, there was a deep longing within me that I wanted to be a part of this project. I asked God if I should proactively approach her, He said wait. I've waited this long in the hallway of closed doors, I can wait a little longer—in praise, in seeking. As Pastor Sun explained deeper into project description and the bigger picture around the project, I knew this was a divine appointment. She even emphasized how she was surprised to hear my name suggested as she prayed. We've only known each other for a few weeks so the connection was undeniably a miracle.

Even that week, I heard somewhere that miracles can only happen when we honor the presence of Jesus.  I don't know if I can be so bold as to say I have been an honoring follower. At the same time, I don't think I can disregard how I've braved and praised out the last few months of twists and turns and loop-de-loops. If the first months in Seoul were grace-filled glimpses of what could be; now Jesus was asking me if I was ready to dive right in.

In result of divine connections and little miracles named people, my October was a month of saying yes, failing hard at getting driver's license, receiving care packages full of winter clothes, and mastering the portion control of cooking for one, and sometimes two.

November meant details had to be settled. I've already said yes to Pastor Sun's offer but because the project is still in very early stages, she cannot fully hire me yet. Then God opened a door through our divine appointment. The lady who will be sponsoring Pastor Sun's project heard about my situation and willingly offered me a job and housing free of rent and utilities for this coming season, however long it may be. When Pastor Sun's project needs all hands on deck, I'm free to move on. At first I thought they were joking. They weren't.

I asked "Jesus?" He said "I'm good, am I not?" I hope I thrive in this environment that was created solely through grace and grace alone. I pray and pray that I won't be cocky or entitled at this new job. This is a completely new experience of being around Koreans full time and I know there will be a learning curve. I pray Jesus takes my hands and feet, guide my tongue as I learn more about honoring and respecting this culture known as my passport country.

I'm excited, nervous, and grateful. All my pieces seem to be intact, so that's good. The cold is absolutely no fun—I'm learning the art of layering. There's magic in my bones. At this current moment that means I'm excellent at packing without stressing out. I'll be moving out of this tiny borrowed home of four months to the new place in just a few hours. I'm waiting for my uncle to pick me up. The borrowed blankets that has kept me warm in this place are tumbling in the dryer. Here's to the unknown. Cheers to the borrowed spaces. Let the magic unfold.

#updates #magic #magic in our bones #transition #sayin yes #miracles #seoul #october 2020 #november 2020 #2020

[strangegiverdreamer]

Star Wars & Lord of the Rings crossover challenge

Synopsis

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie."

—J.R.R. Tolkien's epigraph to The Lord of the Rings

As a child growing up with the prequel trilogy of Star Wars I also grew up with Peter Jackson’s illustration of the Lord of the Rings. After seeing the movies, I remember collecting toys and figures from both universes and made them fight each other. Good times... Now that I am older and that both Star Wars and the Lord of the Rings is still alive and strong today, my 22-year-old mind is considering a long waited crossover inspired by my childhood hobby of betting the Force against Magic. I figured I’d start by issuing a fic challenge and leave you some information to help you give an idea. Enjoy!

I always became fascinated with The Rings of Power of the Lord of the Rings and their functions and thought of what they might become of in the Star Wars universe? Well, I’ll be going over the functions of the Rings and who would be best paired with it in a bit but for now, let's get right into an interesting parallel between Star Wars and Lord of the Rings.

Both Darth Sidious (Star Wars) 

and Sauron (Lord of the Rings)

Are very similar when it comes to their intentions; Power. How they both achieve their rise to power is very similar as well.

Darth Sidious the Dark Lord of the Sith, and Sauron the self-proclaimed Dark Lord of Mordor, both were immensely strong in the dark arts and have used alter-egos to bring intentions of peace and order to their realms by taking forms of sensitive and wise people to manipulate events that led to tyranny.

Sidious took the persona of Sheev Palpatine, a wise and sensitive senator from Naboo who became Chancellor with promises to restore democracy during the Clone Wars.

Sauron took the persona and guise of his Fair form as Annatar the Lord of Gifts, a beautiful, wise, and sensitive Elf who claimed to bring the Elven realms knowledge of jewelsmithing and craftsmanship.

We all know Sidious (as Palpatine) manipulated galactic events that led to the formation of the Galactic Empire and puts an end to a thousand year democracy and returned Sith dominance to the galaxy. 

How Sauron (as Annatar) manipulated the Elves was scarily familiar.

The Rings of Power & Who in Star Wars is best to pair with them.

In Lord of the Rings, there are a total of 20 rings of great power (21 if you count Shadow of War)

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie." —J.R.R. Tolkien's epigraph to The Lord of the Rings

In Tolkein’s world, The Nineteen Rings of Power were created to help Elven kings and queens of Middle-Earth govern their lands and would grant their wearers special powers such as the ability to grant agelessness and invisibility. Each Ring would also augment the wearer's senses and unique talents in magic, combat, or even greatly augment a naturally strong sense.

However, the Sixteen rings that were forged under Sauron's supervision, including the One Ring, had grave consequences to the wearers; as the rings gave the wearers a continuous lust for power and greed. The Sixteen did not grant true immunity to aging but allowed them to simply continue until they could no longer endure. The power to turn invisible on command with these rings (not counting the One Ring as you turn invisible regardless once placing it on your finger) simply transfers them to the Wraith World, a realm unseen to the mortal eye where spirits of the damned were forced to roam, if the wearer spent too long in the Wraith World, over time they will become a wraith themselves.

Sauron intended to use these Rings to dominate the remaining Elves of Middle-earth.

However, the moment Sauron put the One Ring on his finger, the Elves became aware of Sauron's intentions and took off their rings, preventing Sauron from dominating them.

In his fury at the turn of events, Sauron attacked the Elves, demanding that they hand over all the rings. Sauron managed to retrieve sixteen of the Rings, which he gave to mortals (seven were given to Dwarves, nine were given to Men).

The Elves managed to hide the remaining three rings, which were the greatest of the nineteen Rings that were forged.

The Three were crafted for the sole purpose of the betterment of Middle-Earth, as the Three were created without Sauron's aid, however, the Three were as dangerous as the rest because of their dependability on the One Ring and could easily do great evil as well as good if fallen into Sauron’s control. The Three had similar abilities as the Sixteen, however, did not possess consequences as their brethren as the Three were intended by Celebrimbor to be the purest and greatest out of the Nineteen Rings of Power to recreate the bliss of Valinor, where nothing withered or died. Each of the Three Rings had special properties, but their powers were limited. The Three Rings allegedly granted their wearers true longevity, however, the Elves already have a natural affinity for eternal life and the Three never left the hands of the Elves with exception of Gandalf, as he did possess one of the Three, however, Gandalf was not a mere mortal man but a Maiar who were also immortal beings. The Three’s abilities were instilling hope, preserve, to heal, and to shield others from evil. The Three did not grant their wearers to become invisible, however, only make the rings themselves invisible to the mortal eye to protect their existences. These rings did not possess an offensive capability, except Vilya as it was known to have some elemental control, however, were only made to heal and preserve.

The Three were the only rings out of the Nineteen to be given their own names.

Narya, also named the Ring of Fire or Red Ring was a gold ring adorned with a red ruby. Described as having the power to inspire others to resist tyranny, domination, and despair (in other words, evoking hope from others around the wielder), as well as giving resistance to the weariness of time. I believe the right owner of Narya in Star Wars would definitely be Leia Organa and also to never let Carry Fisher’s memory be lost to time.

Nenya, also named as the Ring of Adamant, the White Ring and the Ring of Water is described as being made of mithril and set with a "white stone", a diamond. Nenya's power was preservation, protection, and concealment from evil. I guess the rightful owner of this ring will be Padme Amidala because she is a very determined person, queen, and senator not tempted by evil regardless of her love for Anakin when he asked her to join him. She was also the only thing that preserved Anakin in Darth Vader and saw the good in him. Nenya is then buried with her after her death to preserve the beauty and stability of Naboo during the Imperial Era. Rey is also a suitable choice for Nenya as an inheritor of the ring regarding her character development and relationship with Ben Solo. Because freaking Reylo is the reverse Anidala. Duh!

Vilya, the Ring of Air, Blue Ring, the Dominant Ring, or Ring of Sapphire is the greatest of the Three Rings. The exact power of Vilya is not mentioned. It is reasonable to speculate that it also possesses the power to heal and to preserve. The ring can possibly possess the power to see the future. Vilya's main use was to create a realm where the Elves could be at peace. The wielder could use the ring to set an enchantment on a chosen location, preserving all living things within the region. With this boundary spell, it is possible that Vilya granted the user to control minor elements other than Air. Though it is stated that Vilya can cure any ailment or wound. I’d say the greatest out of the Three will go to Yoda and passed over to Luke Skywalker after Yoda’s death. Luke used Vilya to preserve the Force Tree on Alch-To and Yoda may still have influence over Vilya as he used it to summon lightning to set the Force Tree ablaze. After Luke’s life in the living world came to an end, Vilya remained on Alch-To upon the stone where Luke had sat. The Caretakers of the island declared the stone a shrine to Vilya where it still remained unclaimed to a new bearer.

The Seven were presented to the Dwarven Lords by Sauron as a means to dominate the mortal realm after his failure to dominate the Elves. The Dwarves were proven to also be failures to indoctrination because of the Dwarves’ natural hardiness to mental manipulations and magic, so much even the invisibility and the enhancements to their traits ceased to work on them. However, the Dwarven Lords did succumb to the lust for greed that accumulated into mountains of wealth that led to their downfall as four of the rings were either consumed or destroyed by dragons who lay hibernating in the massive mounds of gold while Sauron took back the remaining two and was never placed on a mortal or Elven finger again. 

It is my speculation that some people who have a strong willpower and mental capacity can resist the effects of the Rings that turns them into Sauron’s slaves like (SPOILER) Talion in Shadow of War when he placed one of the Nine rings on his finger.

So I guess if I had to choose who would be better to wield some of the Seven in Star Wars (without them becoming wraiths) I would say the characters that are on the side of money such as Bounty Hunters or Pirates. Characters I feel could be mentally strong enough to counteract the lethal side effect and mind control of the Seven much like the Dwarves did in LOTR, I would pick Boba Fett, Bossk, Dengar, Jabba the Hutt, D.J, and Hondo Ohnaka. (D.J. already has a ring just like the one above. Scary, right? I also like the idea of D.J’s ring starting to take effect on him given his stutter.)

The Nine were infamously known when they were gifted to the race of men who above all others desired power that matched Sauron the Deceiver. Each ring granted them extraordinary power and abilities as well as the power to cheat death and be granted immortality, for a price of their own humanity. As a result, these nine great kings of men fell into darkness one by one, becoming slaves to the Dark Lord’s will and became the Nazgûl. Damned into being ringwraiths neither living nor dead and being led by the infamous Witch-King of Angmar who was the darkest of them all.

I think the obvious choices in Star Wars would be 

and Finally...

The Knights of Ren, the new line of the Nine Nazgûl following the rediscovery of seven surviving Nine Rings of Power by the Supreme Lader Snoke. Kylo Ren out of all of them will display the focal point between the Light and the Dark as he struggles with the power of the Ring once belonging to Darth Vader that has a strong hold over him. 

Kylo would be represented as Talion from Shadow of Mordor/War when SPOILER ALERT: Talion takes a Nazgûl’s ring and uses the powers of a Ringwraith against Sauron after Celebrimbor betrays him.

The One Ring, also known as the Ruling Ring, the Master Ring, the Ring of Power, and Isildur's Bane. Sauron’s greatest prize is a simple gold band when exposed to heat shows a hidden inscription: “One ring to rule them all, One ring to find them, One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.” The ring was created by Sauron in the fires of Sammath Naur and with the aid of Celebrimbor, perfected the One by masking its power and giving it a will of its own. But creating the ring simultaneously strengthened and weakened Sauron's power. 

On the one hand, as long as Sauron had the ring, he could control the power of all other Rings of Power, and thus he was significantly more powerful. On the other hand, by binding his power within the Ring, Sauron became dependent on it. Without it his power was significantly diminished. In the hands of Sauron or Celebrimbor, they could dominate the minds of Orcs and build massive armies. But the ring only answers to Sauron and is forever bound to him, mortals who hold the ring is automatically grown attached to it and will try to sway them back to its master and given several side effects from agelessness and being able to understand black speech.

The most obvious choice to wear this ring would be Snoke but as it’s true master and creator while Sidious came in possetion of it since his apprenticeship under Plagueis and was lost once more after the destruction of the Death Star II until it found its way across the stars and landed on a distant planet where it was rediscovered by the creature Gollum. (Andy Serkis was Gollum... go figure.)

Last but not least!

The New Ring, designed for one thing; War. This new Ring of Power was fashioned in Sammath Naur from the same fires from once the One Ring was forged from. Celebrimbor allied with Talion to forge a ring free from Sauron’s influence and contained every bit of power it’s bretheren contained making it a tool for evil as it was for good. Unlike it’s brother, the New Ring was bound to no man nor entity, only forged from darkness for the light to meet it upon the finger of anyone willing to become the Bright Lord of Mordor. With this new ring, the wearer can dominate the minds of lesser beings such as Orcs and tame the wild, if their will is strong enough could dominate the minds of mortals. The ring allowed the wearer to cheat death, grant longevity, and grant acess to the Wraith World but did not grant invisibility.

The ring was a obsidian or steel band with blue inscriptions: “I renounced the Blessed realm, To redeem the Land of Shadow, And bind the walls of Arda. In place of the Dark Lord, You shall have light undeminished. All shall fear me and dispair.”

The appropriate choice for this ring would obviously be the new Supreme Leader of the First Order. When Kylo Ren could not turn to the light but does not stop him from weilding it to shape the galaxy in his image not as the new Dark Lord but a Bright Lord.

So what do you guys think about that? That intriguing enough for yall? It is something to play around with obviously and this was something I had to get off my chest. If you like the idea of a crossover then I openly suggest you go for it. Happy writting!

#fic challenge #i double dare you #reylo fam

[solomonherald]

Speech by Honorable Wale, Leader of Opposition

By Hon. Matthew Wale  Leader of Opposition  Awii Mr. Speaker for the opportunity to speak to the motion moved by the Hon. Prime Minister. This motion is born of uncertain times and circumstances. I would therefore seek your indulgence to read from the Bible to help us see who we are and understand from where our help comes, in times such as these. Habakkuk 1:2-4 The prophet complains, “How long, O Lord?” in the face of the long and slow destruction of God’s people by an evil Babylon. The prophet could not accept how God would allow an evil empire to punish and destroy His own chosen people. The Babylonians destroyed their enemies by laying very long sieges against their cities to cut off food supply lines. The suffering and hunger imposed by the sieges were slow and long. 1:5-11 God responds by saying Yes my people have become wicked and I am raising the Babylonians to destroy them. 1:12-2:1 The prophet felt a sense of injustice that God would use a wicked people, the Babylonians, to punish the backslidden people of God. He raised this as his second complaint  2:2-20 God responds to the prophet’s second complaint by saying Babylon will also be punished at the right time. The hand of justice will destroy the evil and rescue the righteous who live by faith (2:4). God’s word to his people in Habakkuk is ‘In uncertain, trying and unprecedented times, live by faith’. Trust God in the toughest of times, in days of looming trouble. What does it mean to live by faith in the face of the suffering effected by the coronavirus? We can be sure that there is nothing that happens in this world by chance, nothing that happens apart from God’s will and purpose for his world. It is hard for the human mind to understand this, and can often lead to bitterness toward God. However, like the prophet Habakkuk, this must lead us trust in God’s perfect and righteous justice. God is not idle, and we can trust Him. However slow and painful the suffering will be, Habakkuk summons us to quiet trusting patience. 3:16 & 18 Habakkuk expressed His trust in God’s perfect timing saying in V.16 “Yet will I wait for the day…”, and in V18 “Yet will I rejoice in the Lord...” Habakkuk’s “Yet will I…” responses were statements of faith and trust in God’s perfect timing and righteous justice. 3:17-18 “Though the fig tree does not blossom, nor there be fruit on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” The prophet Habakkuk is saying in the face of economic ruin – incomes lost, livelihoods destroyed, uncertain food supply, uncertain health outcomes – his joy remains in the God of his salvation – not in those temporal things. The coronavirus has been described as a great equalizer – that is, it has no respect for whether a person is rich or poor, educated or illiterate. Its impact on all persons is the same. In the face of this coronavirus, man cannot put his hope in his possessions and or his passions. Let us humble ourselves and return to the God of our salvation. Let us put our total trust in Him, and find our true joy in Him. When we live by faith and trust in God – it is not a blind faith. We must still practice social distancing, no face-touching, regular hand washing and personal hygiene and follow the advice of the experts who God has given knowledge and wisdom to, to help us face this global pandemic. Let me now turn to the motion itself and make a few brief observations. We are thankful that to date we are among a very few countries in the world who are yet to record any case of coronavirus infection. I must congratulate the government for responding to the call to act early and place the country on heightened alert against the global pandemic. We must all accept that in such unprecedented times such as this some mistakes will be made in our efforts. However, we must have the humility to learn quickly and adapt to changing situations. Let me also express my gratitude to those who serve on the frontline of our efforts to respond to the pandemic. All of Solomon Islands owe them a debt of gratitude. They must be recognized for their service and efforts. However, I would like to say to the Prime Minister, it is important at the outset that any reward or incentives for those working on the frontline in this pandemic be agreed and set now – rather than wait for the claims after, as has been the practice from other past events that led to exaggerated claims. States of public emergencies are usually situations that a country has already found itself in. In this case, we are yet to record a positive case of Covid-19. However, the exponential growth and fast spread of the coronavirus throughout the world present the situation that as part of the global village we are not immune from. We must take the steps that are necessary to protect our people against this pandemic. In many ways the entire world is in a state of emergency, and we are no exception. Our laws are made for the normal functioning of society, the economy and government in ordinary times. There are very few laws that exist to guide our efforts and responses in states of public emergencies. In Solomon Islands, the Constitution provides for it, and the Emergency Powers Act is an attempt to regulate government actions during an emergency. However, this Act may not be adequate. There is a need for government, at the appropriate time, to reflect on these experiences and ensure that our laws are updated to provide adequate and clear powers and mechanisms to guide our efforts and responses in an emergency. As we can see with other countries, the covid-19 pandemic has closed down education systems, forced economies into hibernation, citizens into self-isolation, disrupted food supplies, and overwhelmed healthcare systems. A health pandemic has become the source of a national security crisis for many countries, including the world and middle powers. We are no different. This pandemic has exposed inadequacies in various countries’ laws and capacities to respond effectively. A country’s speed and effectiveness to marshal resources and reallocate them to where they are needed most in a crisis may be the critical success factor in how that country protects its people and assures its national security. The enabling environment for such speed and effectiveness must include a robust legal framework, flexible administrative mechanisms, removal of red tape that may otherwise be necessary in normal times, stocks of strategic reserves, sound policy advice based on science, consistent clear simple messaging and effective communication to the people, political will, and clear headed leadership. As in other countries, we see our nakedness clearly in the face of this pandemic. We must plan for, procure and store equipment and items that would be needed to protect our frontline professionals and citizens in an epidemic or a pandemic. Our total reliance on donations from outside makes us even more vulnerable than we would be. In the face of the pandemic, we see countries are prioritizing their domestic needs and banning exports. This too is an important lesson to learn. Our hand to mouth fiscal situation must not be an excuse for the lack of planning for strategic stores of items that would be necessary in an emergency. In emergencies, decision-making must not be compromised by political calculations nor by any other calculation that might sacrifice the health safety of our people. We would do well to reflect on these and see if there is room for improvement going forward. In this state of public emergency, and because of its overwhelming cross-cutting nature, all other policy considerations and priorities must be set aside. I pointed this out in the recent debate on the address from the throne. Government’s primary focus must solely be on protecting the health safety of our people, and ensuring our national security. Anything that does not help government to achieve those two objectives must be set aside for the time being. The address from the throne outlined government priorities for 2020, at a time when the world was being overwhelmed by the coronavirus pandemic. That address was almost oblivious to the unfolding global pandemic. As we now see, the pandemic, as it has done elsewhere, dictates what becomes priority. And this is as of necessity. The declaration of a state of public emergency by His Excellency on the 25th March 2020 describes the bases for the declaration being the declarations by the WHO regarding the Covid-19 pandemic and its spread throughout the world. His Excellency’s declaration of a state of public emergency also sets the parameters or boundaries of all regulations and decisions made, and actions taken in the emergency period to be for the preservation of public security and as measures necessary to stop the importation into and or the spread of covid-19 in Solomon Islands. Any regulations, decisions and or actions taken that do not preserve public security or are not necessary to the protection from importation into and the spread of covid-19 in Solomon Islands would be outside the scope of the emergency declaration under section 16 of the constitution. Such regulations, decisions and or actions, to the extent they do not relate to those two policy objectives, would be abuse of the declaration of the state of public emergency. Solomon Islands is still a democracy even in a state of emergency. All who exercise emergency powers must do so guided by the democratic values and ideals we hold dear. It is unfortunate that the constitution does not explicitly provide for an oversight mechanism for a period of the state of emergency. However, there is nothing preventing the Bills and Legislation committee from exercising parliamentary oversight over regulation making during the state of emergency, if it so wishes. I would encourage the Bills committee to explore if this will be feasible during the emergency. Of course, in an emergency situation oversight must not be obtrusive. It must not impede the speed and effectiveness of government responses in the emergency. I suppose we will have to rely on His Excellency to exercise some oversight on the use of emergency powers. I wish to acknowledge and appreciate the donations offered by our donor partners, at a time when their own countries are bearing the brunt of the effects of covid-19. This is a global pandemic and we will benefit from the experience of other countries. Instruments: State of public emergency declaration by His Excellency 25th March 2020 under the Constitution S.16 (2). Emergency Powers (COVID-19) Regulations 2020 published 26th March 2020, under the Emergency Powers Act Public service Circular Memorandum No.03/2020 dated 31st March 2020 If the coronavirus is not in Solomon Islands: Ban all international flights into the country, except for cargo and samples for tests (until testing can be done in-country). Regular tests for air crew who will be in isolation whilst in country and baggage handlers at Henderson.Appropriate isolation/quarantine for incoming international shipping freighters.Economy needs to keep functioning to provide jobs and incomes for families. However, the PM’s hope that donor funded projects be brought forward may not be feasible, as it would involve mobility of labour. Further, it is important to note that the spread of the coronavirus from China to other countries followed Chinese workers returning to those countries to work. We must learn from that experience. The Pacific games construction project may be affected by this, if it will require Chinese workers. Government must not take the risk of importing covid-19 through foreign workers. Our national security and public health safety cannot be compromised even for the Pacific games. Some preemptive planning must now commence to consider postponement of the games.Public service needs to keep operating to provide support services to the private sector to keep the economy functioning. The Public Service Memo dated 31st March 2020 should be withdrawn.Ban on flights may only be lifted once source/destination cities/countries have demonstrated sustained reductions in the number of coronavirus infections. In such an event, all travelers into the country must:obtain medical report confirming lack of covid-19 infection within 4 days prior to travel, andbe quarantined on arrival for 14 daysAll Solomon Islands citizens abroad, including students, wishing to return must comply with 4 above. SIG to pay for tests for its sponsored students.Quarantine facilities must be fit for purpose to not become fertile ground for the spreading of the coronavirus.Conversely, the government could enter into dialogue with Australia to beg that Solomon Islands students be quarantined in their detention facilities on Christmas Island. This would work for our students in Philippines, if a decision was taken to evacuate them.All citizens with no jobs or business interests in Honiara to be urged to leave for their villages. Ideally, all these should be tested for covid-19 to ensure the virus is not unwittingly spread to the provinces.Close and police the border with Bougainville.Set up lab to conduct all tests in-country.Procure new test kits recently approved by the US FDA that takes 2 mins to get results. When first case is recorded in Solomon Islands: Maintain ban on all international flightsImmediate lock down of Honiara for 14 daysBan all domestic travel to/from HoniaraRigorous exhaustive contact tracingStrict social distancing rules promulgated; group size to be at 2.100% testing of suspected cases. Adequate supply of test kits.Isolation of suspected cases. Random checks on persons in isolation to ensure compliance.Hospitalization of positive cases away from general public and away from NRHThree field clinics set up to do tests in East, Central and West HoniaraMulti-purpose hall converted to field hospital for covid-19 casesAdequate supply of PPE for health professionals. PPE must be independently proven to work. Payment of incentives to frontline health professionals Better coordination of procurement of medical equipment and supplies in the face of fast dwindling global supplies  New grave yard for Honiara Strict regulations for burial of covid-19 victims. Legal Issues: Clarification on Emergency Powers (Covid-19) Regulations 2020 –  Regulation 21 – whether 72 hours is unreasonable; 26(1) Gag on public officers – it is important that public officers on the frontline are free to speak on issues they face. Any bottleneck in the chain of command and equipment supply may result in deaths of frontline officers. The government has asked them to put their lives on the line, and the government must not silence them from speaking out if they see problems that ought to be addressed or areas for improvement. Government should not see such speech as contradictory or inflammatory. This part of the regulation ought to be amended to separate frontline workers from the general cadre of public officers. Their freedom to speak may save lives.Power to ban access to media – we know social media is majority fake news. Worse, there are some who perpetuate fake news with malicious intent. And given the emergency, the consequences may be tragic. However, I would caution the Prime Minister to weigh carefully the advantages and disadvantages from a ban to media access in any particular situation. In this emergency, safety is primary and must weigh more heavily than other considerations. However, the benefits of ongoing media access to citizens in an emergency may be in itself a lifeline to knowing what to do in certain situations and accessing help.Although not provided for in the constitution or the Emergency Powers Act – unobtrusive oversight of the exercise of emergency powers should be exercised by the Parliamentary Bills & Legislation Committee, on behalf of Parliament. Economic issues: Macro: International trade in the main commodities exported by Solomon Islands are severely curtailed. Commodity prices are expected to remain relatively low on the back of weak demand from the manufacturing slowdown in China. The length of time for demand to pick up again is uncertain, perhaps as long as six to ten months.Imports of food and essential items will continue, but expect a weakening demand of non-essential items.World price for oil has dropped to its lowest level in the last 18 years.Government revenues expected to fall significantlyGovernment borrowing may increase to fund the emergency costsGovernment budget to be reprioritizedGovernment to urge banks to grant loan repayment holidays, at the very least, and to consider reducing lending interest rates.Need economy to keep functioning to keep as many jobs as possibleGovernment must address the need for a stimulus package.SIEA should be required by the Prime Minister to immediately suspend disconnections, and reduce tariffs by at least 30% for 3 monthsSIWA should immediately suspend disconnectionsClear, simple messaging from government in simple PijinFood security is paramount. Vietnam has closed exports. 90% of rice is imported from Vietnam. Rice should be rationed, if insufficient stock levels.Supply of local food produce may need to be nationalized, & distribution coordinated. Food prices to be kept very low or subsidized. Confinement and hard economic situations may lead to domestic abuse. Appropriate agencies dealing with this matter need to be adequately resourced to respond to domestic & gender based violence. Clear consistent messaging to prevent domestic & gender based violence will be important. Isolation rules will need to take into account the need for victims of domestic and gender based violence to move away from their abusers to safety. It is useful to parliament, as it is to the country, to hear the government’s planning going forward into the period of the state of public emergency. If we succeed at keeping the covid-19 from entering Solomon Islands, how long will international flights remain banned? What conditions would have to be met to see public service recalled? All individuals must take primary responsibility for social distancing, hand washing and not touching their faces. As in many other countries, social distancing is not in our nature or culture. There is need for consistent messaging in clear simple Pijin to ensure it becomes second nature to our people. Funerals in particular, with its cultural implications, represent potential super spreaders when we get the coronavirus. Government must now develop regulations to appropriately regulate how corpses and funerals are handled. Government must take the steps necessary to assure food supply to emergency zones and to regulate distribution and access to food. The closing down of satellite vegetable markets may make the central market a super spreader in the event we get the coronavirus. As we would expect city residents to travel by bus to the central market, with the risks involved in that. Government must bear responsibility for coordinating food supply, distribution in the emergency zone in the event of a lockdown. We live in uncertain times. There is no cure for or vaccine against covid-19 yet. There is much that the scientists still do not know about covid-19. But this must not lead us to fear. It must lead us to our God, who is our loving Father in heaven. Let me conclude by reading from Psalms 121: “I will lift up my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip – he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you – the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm – he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” And again, Psalms 23: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness For His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me All the days of my life; And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Awii Mr. Speaker, and I support the motion. Read the full article

#MathewWale #OppositionLeader

[kyraensui]

What kind of bond is this?

Summary: Lotor testing his luck and pride as an Alpha to court an infamous omega, Keith.

Rated: Teen & Up

Chapter 5 of 8

Can read at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12559508/chapters/28737124

Keith had made some odd decisions before in his life. There were a few good ones, but somehow, he attracted some bad ones without lifting a finger. He wondered if someone had curse his luck and didn't know about it. He wasn't sure if this was a blessing or a curse as his finger made soft scratches on the juncture of his neck. It was still fresh, but it made his body shivered from the phantom feels coursing through his skin. And it was so embarrassing too. His whole face flushed when he remembered how he lost control of his own body. The heat and passion of the stupid Alpha's touches and words. He shook his head and slapped both of his cheeks. Lotor was definitely a different kind of Alpha who doesn't let his urges control him. He liked that part of him. He treated Keith as a person, not an omega who needs to be claim by society’s standards.

He felt love. He just wished Lotor would stop making him feel embarrassed when he says stupid things to him. It was cheesy and ridiculous, but Keith find himself being red every time. Lotor was the most cheesiest Alpha he had ever met, but holy heavens, he was ungodly one handsome man.

Keith sat up on bed in fetal position and wondered if he was ready to take another important step in his life. He could feel it coming. His stupid heat decided to come out of hibernation now that he found his stupid Alpha to bond with.

[Earlier in the day]

Keith could feel the back of his hair standing on its end from the warm breathe breathing down on his exposed skin. He wiggled his body in hopes of escaping, but the grip has not loosen one bit. "Lotor please. Someone will see us." His nose nuzzled behind his ear. "Let them be. I want everyone to know it's you I want." Too close. His lips was too close to his hot skin. It didn't help that Lotor was topless when Keith had walked in on him doing some bench press. Perfect six packs and broad chest can make any omegas fall to his feet. The thought of his hand feeling the ripples of those abs and how firm those muscles are was very tempting. It was calling him to touch them. To run his hands all over like a paint brush on the white canvas.

No no no. What am I thinking?!

He was losing himself with each whiff of Lotor's scent. The one scent that gave Keith many sleepless nights after he took his first whiff. He wanted to be wrap up in the scent like a blanket on cold nights.   "Keith." His body trembled when Lotor whispered against his ear. He bit his lower lip to hold back. He won't give in. "Can I tell you my little desire if I get that special invite?" Lotor loves to talk a lot, but then again, Keith likes to speak as little as possible. Keith hummed softly and nodded. He yelped when he was pulled back and sat on Lotor's crossed legs with his arms still wrapped around his small frame. "Thank you." His nose went back to nuzzle against his neck. "Let me show and tell you." With one arm holding firm on his cute omega, Lotor lifted his finger up and placing it on lower lip. "A kiss to greet." His finger moved to his left cheek. "And here." Then to the other side. "To shower you with affection." Keith shook his head, but bit back again when his slender finger traced along his neckline. "Paint this with small kisses. No wait, one long lick sounds better. To taste your salty skin. Mmm..." "Pervert." He whispered. Lotor chuckled. "Affectionate, love." Low whimpers escaped when his fingertips circled around the juncture of his neck. "Omega's sacred spot. One of few places to entice extra pleasures to an omega. A spot where an Alpha can lay their claim." His lips leaned closer and blew a puff of warm air against it. He was rewarded with delicious shivers from his cute omega on his lap. "Since it's sacred, I can wait with great patience for the invite from the pretty goddess. To feel worthy to be his protector." Keith wanted to melt, but he wasn't sure it was from embarrassment or how awkward he felt about Lotor's fancy way to confess. "You could have---" His violet eyes cast down. "You could have use your special scent to make it easier." "No Keith." His finger moved over to his right chest and tapped. "I want to have this with your conscience mind. I want to have our commitment to last and built on honesty." "Lotor..." "That way, we can do our hot and steamy sex later." Keith's face felt very warm and if he had a mirror, he would see his whole face turning beet red. He twist, turn and wiggle on Lotor's strong hold until the warmth went straight to his ears.

Oh my god. Oh my god. I did not... I just did not feel that.

"Do not worry Keith. I won't doing anything to defile you, but trust me, if you keep wiggling your cute butt like that, then I'm going to tie you down to a chair and make you watch as I take my release with my hand over my c—-" "Pervert pervert! Too much information!!" He chuckled. "You will take sole responsibility for my arousal, Keith. It’s not my fault that I’m very attracted to you. Want to know in much better details of how I will make your body melt to my great touch?” "Qu---quiet you!" It didn't help when he felt it too, but he was not going to let Lotor know. Just the feel of it was enough to make him feel tingling hot. He spoke the words with lightning speed. Lotor blinked with confusion spread all over his face. "......" "......" "Keith?" Keith looked down and away with shifting eyes. "Don't make me repeat it." "......" "......" "Please?" "You're invited!" He took several deep breathes and squeaked when he found himself shifted and turned with his back laying on the soft rug. His eyes looked up and his breathing hitched when he saw those shimmering blue eyes stared down at him. Platinum hair cascaded down on him like beaded veil. Keith tilted and shifted his head away when Lotor came down with his lips rested softly on his neck. True to his words, his neck was peppered with small kisses. Soft moans echoed in the vast room. He spread his legs apart for room and feeling his firm thigh rubbing against him. It felt like heaven. "Thank you Keith." Keith looked up at the ceiling with glossy eyes. Just when did he fell? He wrapped his arms around Lotor and held him tight for what's going to come. A strong anchor to hold him down. "Shh... Relax love."  Love. It had a lovely ring when Lotor called him. His eyes widen and his body jolted up against the Alpha above with his fingernails scratching Lotor's back. He mewled with sights of little color specks in his vision. It felt so good.

Shiro would be happy now that I'm bonded with Lotor. This will ease off his stupid over protectiveness. And get Lance off my case for being picky.

Keith hugged his legs closer and buried his face between his knees.

Oh god. I can't believe I came when he marked me.

Lotor was nice enough to let Keith go, but without laughing at him for being a shy omega. He punched him on the shoulder before running to the bathroom. What's taking him long in the shower? It's not that Keith was waiting for Lotor to finish his shower. He was not that kind of person.

Nope. I should just sleep before him.

Just when he was going to turn in, his eyes became wide and immediately looked away.

Crap! Why am I acting like a blushing virgin?!

Lotor chuckled at Keith's cute antic when he came out of the hot shower with only a white towel wrapped around his waist and drying his long hair. "You---you took too long!" He stuttered. "Of course I did. Do you know why I took long?" Keith shook his head without looking at him. "Because I kept rewinding that special moment when I was invited to claim you." He ruffled his wet hair and placed the towel around his neck. "A cherish memory that I finally was able to win you over with my charms." "Your charms are still cheesy." "You still enjoyed them." He smiled, but it turned into a sly grin. "You know I can't wait to hear those lovely sounds again and the feel of your supple body against mines. Your body felt so nice and firm. The way you moved--" "PERVERT!" He immediately threw the blanket over his body and curled up in hopes that it will make him invisible. It was a pitiful thought when he felt the bed shifted in weight and felt a pair of strong arms wrapped around his torso. Those chuckles were crystal clear in his ear. "No no, my lovely omega. It's called love." Lotor nipped the soft flesh of his ear. Keith whimpered. "And I can make you become addicted to my love..." His tongue went inside his omega's ear and licked it. "with your upcoming heat."

Noo! I take back my invitation! Restart, restart!

He found it a blessing and a curse to be bonded with Lotor. Keith had hope his heat would lay dormant a little longer, but alas, he can't win over his stupid body.

You traitor.

It kicked him hard two days later.

#keitor #keitorweek2017 #vld fic: blind love #vld fic #voltron #voltron legendary defender

[boymeetsweevil]

Blood of the Covenant

Grouping: Reader x Jungkook

Word Count: 3476 lol

Summary: You’re an unregistered vampire trying your hardest to save up enough to go to school by working long hours and giving up meals. Unfortunately, the local university refuses to enroll starving vampires like yourself because they’re seen as threats. Desperate to get in, you take up Jeon Jungkook’s shady offer to help.

You wiped the sweat from your brow and leaned next to the front door of the laundromat. The most recent delivery run you made really tuckered you out more than you could afford. You only had one more whole blood bag left in your fridge and you were already rationing the current one strictly until your next paycheck. Only a few more days until payday, you reminded yourself as you went inside to pick up the final delivery for the day.

When you walked in, you saw your boss talking to another vamp you had never seen before. Your boss turned his head and looked sheepish, but you couldn’t figure out why.

“What’s going on,” you smiled to disarm the tension in the room. You could smell your boss’ B.O. as his pulse sped up.

“Y/N, this is Jenni. Do you know each other?”

“Of course not,” Jenni said at the same time you sighed, “Not every vamp knows every other vamp.” The disgust in Jenni’s tone made you take a moment to look her over. While she wasn’t dressed in high couture, she was definitely dressed nicer than you. It was clear she was a registered vamp, just like it was clear you weren’t. Suddenly you were reminded of how dingy and ill-fitting your clothes were.

“Well,” your boss cleared his throat awkwardly, “Jenni is applying for a position here.”

“I thought we didn’t have any vacancies right now,” you furrowed your brows.

“Yes, there are,” Jenni piped in, “The front desk and delivery driver position is open”. Your mouth fell open before you could pull yourself together.

“What? That’s my job. There aren’t any vacancies. Tell her, sir.”

You looked to your boss for affirmation, but when he wouldn’t even look at you you felt your face grow hot with rage and embarrassment. You needed this job, the down payment for the first semester at the local university was due soon and you just barely had enough to put away after you sent some home to your mom every week. Especially since your being unregistered meant you had to take a pay cut. You only agreed to it, though, because 1) you didn’t want to get reported as suspicious to the higher ups, the Vampyric Entities Management Bureau and 2) unregistered vamps weren’t even supposed to have jobs.

“Please, sir.” You began to feel the prick of tears. You took a breath to calm yourself, you couldn’t afford to lose any blood. “You know how much I need this job. I don’t understand how you can do this.”

“You know why, Y/N.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Jenni watched the argument unfold with a fascinated look in her deep mahogany eyes.

“Because I’m unregistered.” You hung your head when he forced you to say the words out loud

“I told you it was a liability from the start and that I would do what was necessary if things became clear to the customers,” he hesitated before adding,”Your eyes give us away.”

You flinched at that. Everyone knew that when a vamp’s eyes were any brighter than a red delicious apple, they were starving. A starving vamp was supposedly ‘feral’ and ‘dangerous’. Registered vamps were never starving because they lived with human donor companions.

“Sir, I would be able to take care of that if it weren’t for my salary. I’m not even making minimum wage,” you whimpered. He sighed loudly before taking a few careful strides over to you.

“I think its time for you to go, Y/N. We’ll send you the rest of today’s pay as well as the rest for the week, but no more of this. Its bad for us both.” He held his hand out and you robotically relinquished the lanyard that held a key to the building.

It wasn’t until you had already taken your bus back to your small apartment that the gravity of the situation hit you. You crouched down and cried by your shoe cubby at the front door. After you were done, you washed the blood off your cheeks and downed the rest of the half open blood bag in your fridge and slept for 2 days.

Thanks to your previous frugality, the 2 days of near-hibernation and the time it took you to snag a temporary stint at a pizza place in town didn’t leave you off schedule for making your payment. Yet. You weren’t trying to test your luck by waiting any longer. You downed your last blood bag, meaning you had no more blood in your fridge. But you were full for the first time in a long time and were able to get a regular wage delivering pizzas without your eyes giving you away. Hopefully whoever previously held the position wasn’t coming back and you could pull a few all-nighters every week to get enough overtime to fluff up your bank account.

The thought of going to one of the only vamp-friendly colleges in all of South Korea, much less college at all, was the sole thing that kept you on your feet 3 weeks into the job, when you got a call to a local frat house on a Friday night. You hadn’t had anything to drink in 3, going on 4, days and your last drink was a meagre one at that. Luckily for you, your new boss didn’t seem to care that your eyes resembled stop signs, and merely gave you an extra long sigh before handing you 10 large pizzas to deliver.

You knew you would have to be careful when you entered a human residence, though. You pulled your work uniform cap as low as it would go and struggled over to the back door as the customer had instructed. You managed to ring the doorbell with your hip and hoped someone would be able to hear you over the booming music and help you with the pizzas.

Just when you thought your arms would fall off, a tall burly man answered the door.

“Oh, cool, you’re here. I’ll show you where you can put those.” he said before turn on his heel and walking into the mass of local students partying before the new school year started. You somehow maneuvered your way to a messy kitchen in the back of the house without dropping anything and heaved them onto a table quickly. A few of the people lingering in the kitchen scattered back into the main room. A couple lingered.

You turned to the tall guy to announce the total. “That’ll be $124.60.” When he didn’t move to take out a wallet or reply to the total, you looked up. Big mistake. He glared at your bright red eyes.

“I fucking knew it. A fucking leech. Hey, Mark,” he shouted to someone outside of the kitchen. “Mark, your delivery chick is one of those goddamn leeches.” He glared down at you with a disdainful smirk. It was days like this where you had to remind yourself that not all humans were like this.

Another burly man, presumably Mark, stumbled into the kitchen at the news. He took one look at your burning eyes and threw back his head and laughed.

“You’ve got to be shitting me. They sent a feral one to a party? There’s people here, man. That’s crazy. We’re never ordering from them again.”

You repeated the total to Mark, who smirked at your insolence and pulled out his wallet. Your eyes widened when he handed you a stack of bills and they stood to watch you count it. It was exactly $125. You whipped your head up to look at them with disbelief.

“No tip?”

Mark scoffed. “Hell no. You want me to call VEMB on your scrawny ass? You look like the type to take what you can get. Am I right?” You didn’t miss the innuendo and neither did Mark’s friend. You took the bills and put them in your fanny pack and began to leave.

The party seemed to have gotten even more crowded, as it was near impossible to push through the gyrating bodies in the center of the large living room to get to the door. The stress from the argument in the kitchen was eating away at you and you were reminded of how hungry you were when a sweet-smelling sorority girl glided past. Your head started to spin at the same moment someone grabbed your wrist. You spun around to see Mark’s burly friend again. When you tried to tug your wrist away, he tightened his grip.

“You know I’ve heard rumors about leech girls before. I’ve heard you guys are freaks, especially when you’re hungry...or thirsty or whatever.”

You looked away from him, accidentally making eye contact with a mousy looking boy with dark brown hair, making your presence known to yet another human. You looked away again, but didn’t speak because you hoped he would say his piece and let you go. He didn’t. You knew he was starting to draw attention to you because the boy you just made eye contact with stood up and walked briskly out the room. Probably to call control services on you. Your throat grew impossibly drier.

“I know a guy who might have a vamp epi pen lying around that his vamp bitch doesn’t use.” At that your head popped up. “What are you willing to do for it?”

You closed your eyes, feeling tears start to well up. You were really considering whatever this creep had to offer. You felt him tug at your wrist and you let yourself be dragged by Mark’s friend deeper into the house. He brought you to a room where a bunch of men and women were smoking and called one of them out into the hallway. The other guy told a woman sitting close to him that he’d be back. You realized this was the donor-vamp couple Mark’s friend was talking about.

“Hey man, do you still have that epi pen thing?”

"Ah, bro, no. That’s so weird that you mention it because little Jeon just came and bought that thing off me for, like, $400. You should have come to me sooner.”

“Dude are you fucking kidding me? Jeon doesn’t even fucking have a vamp. Why would you do that? I was just about to get laid.” In his rage, Mark’s friend dropped your wrist. You took a few cautious steps backwards, ready to flee the house, when he turned back to you.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going? I can still call VEMB.”

You were about to make a run for it when you felt someone else grab your wrist and pull you down the hallway and into a bedroom. You thought you heard Mark’s friend curse at the person and call them Jeon. The door swung closed.

Jeon gestured for you to sit in a stool by the bed in the center of the room and you did, too scared that’d he was like Mark’s friend to decline. He wordlessly handed you the epi pen and you dissembled it at nearly lightning speed to get to the small 4oz. can inside. You drank quickly and messily. It was an epi dose, so it kept you from going into hibernation, but it didn’t do much to sate your thirst. It did give you a bit more clarity, though, and you suddenly remembered you were in a strange man’s room.

Jeon stared at you from where he was sitting on his writing desk. His room was pretty bare, but neat. It was large too, with a sizable closet and its own bathroom. One of the better dorms, probably. Jeon had money, you realized. You also realized Jeon knew you needed money. You spoke up to try and stop the evening from going even farther south.

“I heard from that guy out there that you paid 400 bucks for this. Listen, I’m super grateful you were able to get me this epi pen, but you know I won’t be able to pay you back for it.” Jeon blinked before shrinking in on himself, a bit embarrassed.

“No, I know,” he said quietly. His voice surprised you. You thought it would be rough and  booming. “You just looked like you, uh, needed help. That guy is a real ass. I didn’t want to see him hurt you.”

“A lot of people didn’t seem to notice I was even there. And you didn’t have to watch. You could have gone about your business. You would be $400 richer.”

Jeon chuckled at that. There was a darkness in his laugh that made you feel uneasy. You felt your gums itching at an unspoken threat, your fangs trying to descend and give you a fighting chance.

“Just because no one noticed how he treated you, doesn’t mean you deserved it. Doesn’t mean it should have happened. And, if we’re being blunt here, you looked at me like you needed help.” You sneered at that but stayed seated. You were startled when came and sat by the bed so the both of you were at eye level. You knew you must have looked as dangerous as everyone said you were. Your true nature was bubbling up inside of you with the feeling of being cornered.

“You’re still hungry,” he said before baring his neck to you. You gasped at his presumptuousness and stood up immediately.

“Look, Jeon. I know I’m poor. I know I’m a vamp, and I know I’m an unregistered one. But what do you wanna do about it, huh? You want to save me? Better yet, you want me to feed from you so you have evidence of assault later when you throw me to control services? Guess what, I’m not a wild animal. I have manners and restraint. Things you clearly lack. I’m leaving and if you try to stop me, I’ll slice you open and leave you to bleed dry and I’ll do it without tasting a single drop of your blood.”

He looked startled, so you knew your fangs must have dropped. You could smell his blood’s perfume as his human heart raced. He smelled good enough to eat, even on a day when you weren’t starving. But you ignored the hunger pangs and stormed to the door. He snapped out of it just in time to block your exit.

“Jeon. Get out of my fucking way,” you seethed.

“Please, j-just take this, okay? Call me any time you ever need help.” He handed you a piece of paper with a phone number and an address written on it. He must have written it while you were drinking. “And call me Jungkook.”

You were amazed that he was trying to get you to speak intimately with him in this context. You had heard of human guys who were in love with the taboo of ‘banging a monster’ so they stubbornly stalked and chased unregistered vamps for the bragging rights. It was just your luck that you managed to find one with deep pockets and who didn’t know what ‘no’ meant. You took the paper to appease him so you could leave and never see him again.

He stepped aside and opened the door for you. You didn’t thank him and you didn’t look back at him even though you could feel his gaze on your back as you slipped out the way you came in.

5 paydays later, with a week left until the deadline for the payment, you checked your bank account after wiring your mom money like you did every time you got paid. You thought you read the numbers wrong, but when you stopped squirming in your seat, you realized they were correct. You finally had enough money. You were going to college.

Your eyes were a vivid red and you felt weak and airy most days, but you finally had enough to start on the student vampire payment plan. You daydreamed about the blood meal plan you saw on the university website as you walked to the campus and visited the financial aid office.

You were so giddy you didn’t notice the human secretary’s hesitance at handing you a clipboard to fill out forms on. You also didn’t notice the shaky timber in her voice as she called your name to tell you to go into Ms. Choi’s office.

Ms. Choi was more professional and didn’t linger too long on your eyes before giving your forms a cursory glance.

“So, Y/N, you’re here to register for fall term, is that correct?”

“Yes,” you beamed.

“And, do you have a donor coming or should we start discussing your enrollment immediately?”

You were so excited you didn’t realize the trap. “Nope, no donor here. We can discuss whenever you want.”

“Well, I’ve looked at your account. Looks like they liked your paper appearance, Y/N.” You smiled again. “The entrance exams and writing sample have good marks and the financial information finalized early this morning, so that’s fine too. However we couldn’t find you connected to any of our students in the database. You say you don’t have an unaffiliated donor, either?”

You try to hide your annoyance at repeating yourself. “That’s correct, I’m don’t have either. But since you take vamp students I didn’t think that would be relevant to my application.”

“Y/N, we take registered vampyric students. Human students who are legally partnered can use their enrollment in the college to extend to their vampyric partner. We cannot offer enrollment to unregistered, unpartnered vampyric applicants.” You held your breath as Ms. Choi’s words washed over you. In your haste to leave home, you made a huge assumption about the school. You had done all that work, all that starving, for nothing. You tried to find a loophole, anything that might still give you a shot at getting in.

“But you took my application fee. And you reviewed my submitted materials. You gave me an applicant account. You accepted me,” you sputtered.

“Its a fairly new policy that we do blind application processes. But even then, it says in our terms and conditions that while unregistered vampyric students may apply if they desire, they simply cannot be offered enrollment. You did read the terms and conditions didn’t you?” Who the fuck read the terms and conditions, you fumed to yourself.

“You don’t understand. I need to go to school here, I don’t have any other options.”

Ms. Choi began typing. “Well, I’m refunding you your application fee as well as returning the deposit you made for the fall term. I suggest you come back when you’ve been registered. You really do seem like a strong applicant, otherwise. It would be a shame for you to waste all that potential.”

You nodded and got up to leave numbly. You thought maybe she said to have a good day, but that didn’t matter. You were thirsty and tired and you were back to square one in terms of making progress getting into the university. To make things worse, it was still light outside, so you would have to wait until the sun died down enough for you not to get 3rd degree burns. You ended up waiting several hours because it was still technically summer and the sun still wasn’t down, but you were getting unbearably weak.

At this point you knew your eyes had to look almost neon pink. You shoved your hands in the pocket of your jeans defeatedly, but pulled them out quickly when you felt something in one of them. You knew what it was without looking at it. Quickly, you looked up at the sky and gauged the time you had until sunset when you could walk outside safely. This was also when the dorms became locked to people without student IDs. Once you made your decision, you burst through the front door and ran as fast as you could to minimize sun exposure.

10 minutes later you made it to the same frat house from many Fridays ago. You didn’t have any burns, but the sun had sapped you of almost all your remaining energy. Your body would probably force itself to hibernate soon if you didn’t have perfect timing. You hobbled as fast as you could through the fairly empty living space and into the hall with the bedrooms. When you got to the right door, you knocked hard. You prayed that he would be in his room and not asleep. And that he would still help you. The door swung open.

Jungkook took in your frazzled state and brilliant eyes and pulled you into the room, instantly understanding. He brought you to sit with him on the bed and bared his neck for you. The deja-vu was strong, but the feeling of your lips on his skin right before your fangs pierced the skin of his neck was even more intense. He shuddered at the feeling of his blood being pulled from him. One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck as if to keep you attached to him. Even if it meant you bled him dry. 

#bts scenarios #bangtan #bts reactions #bts imagines #bangtan bookclub #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bangtan fanfic #bangtan reactions

[thehappymessproject]

Wallowing 101 : let yourself feel the pain

Yesterday, I had to answer a lot of similar questions. It seems like a lot of us have a hard time letting themselves feel the pain they are feeling deeper, inside, wearing those closeted feelings on their shoulders, heavy and bitter.   

It's only natural to fight something unpleasant. Trouble comes up when avoidance and numbing become the only ways we interact with those feelings. Here are a few leads to let yourself be when you feel really low : First of all, stop doing anything you are doing just in order to avoid unpleasant feelings.   

Anything you will do solely so you don't feel bad anymore won't be that rewarding. You need to engage on things you truly value and learn to do them for the sake of them. Like with any kind of physical pain, if you focus solely on not feeling the pain, your life will become an utter nightmare. If you accept that the pain will come and go as it pleases, so in the mean time, all you can do is take the best care of yourself possible, and go on with your life because pain doesn't rule your life. It's just an occasional road companion.   

Then instead of trying to change how you feel :

1 - Be compassionate and gentle   

Again, if you break your leg, it doesn't make sense to decide you will ignore the pain, get out of the cast and go for a run. Even if you really love to run or you need to run that race. You keep your cast, make sure it doesn't get wet, wait for the bone to heal itself and take it out when the leg is ready. Not when you wish it would be. Being very sad all the time means you need to stop and rest. Protesting that you don't want to be sad, resisting it, avoiding it only make it worse and more susceptible to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.   

2 - Be mindful 

To really engage with your self care you need to be on the moment the more you can. I've written already about easy gates to mindfulness and connecting to yourself (meditation, yoga, writing). Those methods are the most efficient and straight forward. Although any tiny step goes if you are struggling.   

Try this easy 5mn grounding exercise :  Look around you. Breathe deeply. Find : 5 things you can see. 4 things you can touch. 3 things you can hear. 2 things you can smell. 1 thing you can taste. Very efficient especially if you are panicky.  

Other tiny things that help if you really engage with them :   

- Eat an apple and just do that for the few next minutes. - Open and close the curtains and watched the difference in lighting. - Listen to a song, keep coming back to it until it's over. Hum it or sing it ideally. - Watch your pet be. Your fish swimming, your cat licking herself, your dog playing. Or interact with them calmly. - When doing any of it, be all at it. Don't rush to the end, take your time. Find ways to enjoy it. Pause and reflect on what's happening in you. 

You are going to be distracted, just make a priority out of coming back to your mindful moment. Take your time : nowadays, this is the ultimate luxury. 

3 - Ask your Little one inside : "How I can take care of you right now?" 

They're the ones who know. It will probably sound childish, something along the lines of 'I want my mummy'. Not that you really want your mom. You don't need anyone in reality.   

You need the ‘idea' of a mom. You want to feel safe, nurtured, held, supported, encouraged, loved. We all do when we feel really vulnerable and helpless.   

What helps you feel that way? Or How can you engage in what you do so you can feel that way?   

4 - Let it go. Whatever it is.   

Drop the struggle. Let go of resistance. Stop fighting yourself.   

That's a key. I realised a couple of years back that every time I'm getting crazy trying to find "what I am missing", you can be sure I'll end up on "you forgot to accept everything you can't change".   

You'll know when you'll let yourself really go. When you'll trust yourself enough to be as big of a mess as you are inside. Any progress is to be celebrated, victory is adding one moment of awareness and gentle presence at the time. Yes. Even if you're gross, ridiculous, weak, stupid, ugly, any awful word you beat yourself up with to avoid feeling whatever you need to feel.   

Often, tears are involved, if so, often what I call 'belly crying'. 'Chest crying' is superficial, a bit like when we feel like complaining about everything but wouldn’t know we feel so crappy and snappy. When it happens a lot, it's a cry that means there are a lot of crying that should be happening but isn't. But belly crying feels like our guts are ripped off. Like nothing can help but letting out the suffering. We stop fighting and totally let ourselves go. That’s when the healing can begin, when we can feel all the pain.   

It's ok. It's probably scary, unknown, it is going to hurt. But only once you feel the hurt and bleed, only then you can let go of the pain and move on. Unfelt pain feels SO heavy and empty at the same time. It really isn’t worth it on the long run. 

5 - "I can't understand why I feel that way" +  "I don't know what to do"   

Don't look for a why. It'll be wrong anyway, it's always lots of reasons and a lot of randomness.  

Right now, you need to feel, not to think. Not to act. 

Emotions make us more prone to action. You will feel like you need to do something about it. That doesn't mean it's true or that even if it is that you need to listen to that impulsion. Give you room and time to decide what YOU really want to do. Not what your habits tell you to do.   

Stop reflecting. Talking about it. Complain about it. FEEL IT. Where is it in your body? Is it cold? Hot? Hard or soft? Is it still or moving? Does it have a colour? Does it have a pulse? Feelings don't have words. That's our interpretations. Feelings are sensations. Focus on that, leave room for that feeling.   

6 - "I don't feel that bad when I let myself go."   

That goes with a lot of emotional control. Usually, when a patient is feeling that way, he/she feels stuck, but me saying certain things can actually make them feel very emotional very easily.   

If you really don’t know how you feel, try reading those prompts and see what happens, which ones strike a chord when you try them out and imagine they are true (spoiler alert : none of them is more than a thought) :  - I feel so lonely.  - I feel so helpless.  - There's nothing I can do.  - I am lost.  - I am scared.  - I am ashamed.  - I am so angry.  - I am so disappointed.  - No one has my back.  - I should be different.  - I should feel differently.  - I have bad thoughts. 7 - This is your hibernation time. Honour it. Cancel everything that feels unpleasant for a while. Even if you have nothing to do and it's scary or depressing. You need space, the most space you can give yourself. You need space and time to do nothing. To reclaim back your time. It's not to hide yourself because you aren’t presentable : talk about your hibernation, be proud of your ability to know when it's time to retreat and your courage to do so. This isn't defeat. This is strategical self care. You aren't weak, you are smart. You know when you need to rest and recharge. So put your phone on plane mode. Shut down the internet. Stop the time for a while. Retreat. 8 - Treat yourself like you would treat a young, desperate and hurt child. Or someone you really love who has anything that makes you want to protect them and make sure they feel loved if you wouldn't have the patience to be kind to a child who needs you. A pet who really needs you is obviously totally ok too.  

When we lacked a lot of the love we are talking about here, being compassionate gets really really hard. That's because compassion starts with ourselves, and we weren't given that much, so we struggle to know what it feels like. It takes practice to learn how to treat ourselves. Most of us don’t know how to do more than numbing or avoiding the pain and discomfort. 9 - Keep showing up for yourself Persevere. Keep going. We have days when everything feels awful and we feel it won't ever get better. It's part of the human experience. Teach yourself that you will love yourself unconditionally even if it never gets better. Prove it to yourself by never giving up on giving yourself self love. When I am having a true hard time, my only focus is to be there for myself. I don't necessarily know when it'll be over, it doesn't always change the way I feel. It's not the point. The point is me, still there. Not only numbing myself or avoiding displeasing feelings, but there on the hard times. Not just being harsh with myself and judging me, but when I do (old habits die hard), learning to repeat to myself things like :  "It's ok that you feel that way.  I love you anyway.  It doesn't mean anything about you, or your future.  Millions of people right now feel that same pain, you are not alone.  You just need some down time and space and room.  Whatever happens, you'll find ways to make it work.  You are going to be okay." 

10 - Do your best, and celebrate the smallest step.   

Do your best doesn't mean give your best every second of the day.  It means accepting that wallowing takes a lot of energy and therefore we have less energy for other things. Other things can wait. If something cannot, make sure you do a tiny amount of it regularly. 10mn (1% of your waken time) at the time eg. 

Show yourself that doing things doesn't have to be excruciating. That you can do a bit, and then stop yourself and continue later. Make sure you feel safe when you are in your own custody. That may sound dumb phrased like that, but many people think they're not trustworthy when it comes to take care of themselves. How can we expect to take good care of ourselves if we keep thinking we can't do it?   

Go on the @todayifeltproud Tumblr and check out what baby steps means. Sometimes courage is moving mountains, sometimes it's just getting out of bed or promise yourself you'll do better the next day late at night. Celebrate anything that felt hard to do. Even if it might seem stupid or insignificant to others. Because if it was hard for you, and you did it anyway, well, you needed courage. Not a lot of people choose courageous paths. Doing hard stuff is hard. And anything can be hard depending on the state we are in. Drink a glass of water. Stand up every hour. Stretch. Walk inside, just a few steps. Outside your house if you can. Augment your radius every day. Spend 5mn at least everyday doing things you love. And things that help you being mindful. 

IT IS ABOUT THE TINY THINGS EVERYDAY.   

Give yourself more love everyday, one moment at the time and trust yourself : you are stronger than you think. So far, you always survived. Even the hardest things. You will find a way back to yourself. Credit photo Christine Donaldson - Unsplash

#recovery #wallow #sad #depressed #anxious #retreat #therapy #therapist #emotional badassery #self care #self love #self compassion #the happy mess project

[faerystepsblog]

Hibernation...

Good morning my dears.

Ive been thinking about how to word this ALL night long, so best to just crack on and tap out the words :)

After our days work was done Mr Fairysteps and I had our usual natter across the kitchen table last night and got down to the nitty gritty of how much work we both had lined up for the start of the year. It’s important when you are both self employed to do this occassionaly so that you don’t accidentally take on enough work for 6 people, when you are in fact only 2. It appears that his work commitments mean that his Fairysteps time will be limited till mid April, and probably beyond. Bearing in mind he is my ‘Sole Man’ this rather puts a spoke in the works.

Rather than make our wonderful customers wait for silly amounts of time for custom shoe orders I shall be closing the ‘Made To Order’ shoes section of the shop till further notice. The full team (that’s us two) have had to have a think about ‘stretching ourselves too thin’ by offering boots, shoes, bags and purses. Im always disappointing someone who is waiting for something that maybe I havent had time to make :( And, I don’t like disappointing customers who are waiting for ‘treasures’ to turn up in stock. Im thinking maybe I do need to specialise a bit more and focus on what I do best. Im a designer, I thrive best when being creative and for me, fairysteps boots are where my real passion lies. Plus, with the other half of the team being here in a limited capacity, I do have think carefully about monitoring just how much and what work I load that way. So… its looking like I may be getting a serious amount of boot making done this year. Woo hoo.

In the meantime… I can of course beaver on with all sorts of treasure making in my workshop, including getting some limited edition specials ready for April, as well as trickling in a few regular new stock items. Did I mention excessive tea drinking? I will also crack on with some more time consuming button making too as you all loved them so much :) I can finish all those WIPs hanging around the workshop as well. I shall tidy my leathers and my patterns (much needed)…

All in all, Im going into a working hibernation mode till Spring, and am going to make sure that the fairysteps shoe elves are primed and ‘well oiled’ so that we will have oodles of in stock limited edition boots and shoes, ready for what will, hopefully, be a glorious summer.

WARNING: 

The shop stays open, so all stock items will remain in situ to tempt you…

I will still be boring you to death on social media…

Peeks of any treasures I am making for listing now and come Spring will be shamelessly flaunted under your noses…

Do hope I’ve explained this properly and with the respect my truly wonderful, much valued customers and followers deserve.

As ever, Ren x

30/1/16 - UPDATE: I am sorry, but I will not be re-opening custom. I am switching back to stock only. Ive copied this write up from my website for you xxx

“We specialise in creating unique, often one of a kind, footwear and accessories. Available as in stock, and ready to post. Faerysteps boots and shoes are, according to our wonderful customers, “Walking works of art”. It’s what we excell at, being able to create footwear that not only looks and feels sublime, but, is absolutely unique. When you buy a pair of our handmade faery boots or shoes, they could in fact be the only ones like it on the planet. Much like you and I…

Alas, I do not offer custom orders (no begging please, it’s so hard to say no to such lovely people), but alas, grumbles have been brewing in the faerysteps workshop. Faery dust was getting lumpy, wands were breaking, wings were going limp, mummerings of overwork among the faeries was getting louder… Peace is now restored.

Updates of what I am currently making can be seen on my facebook or instagram page, search ‘faerysteps’ to see. I operate a ‘first come, first serve’ system, and do not reserve items in advance of listing (remember… no begging). This keeps everything nice and fair for all. I am a great believer that Lady Fate will always bring us what we need, so do keep checking back to see if your dream pair turns up. Thank you my dears x

I have tried to make it as simple as possible to order, but, if you do need help, I am only an email away, and always happy to help.”

#studio shop updates

[allofbeercom]

5 Insane Subcultures That Might Become The Next Hipster

Guys, we’ve gone and done it: We broke hipsters. We’ve made fun of their $200 “vintage” shirts and fixies and craft-beer-spewing proboscises for so long that the very term has malfunctioned. “Hipster” is now a meaningless go-to insult for anyone who looks different from you, which is everyone. The hipster is gone. Beards can finally be un-ironic again.

However, as much as it pains me to say this, the death of the hipster is a problem. There must always be a dominant subculture — the one people love to hate until it occupies so much mind space that it actually hits the mainstream. A few of them actually die; strong ones such as punk come cackling back in the shadows before long, while others such as hippies gain public semi-acceptance and go on doing their thing. Even fucking emos have Hot Topic to remember them by. But, not hipsters — hipsters are going out like an IPA-tainted diarrhea fart. The mark they leave is distinct, but easily washable. They’ve been an unsustainable fad — the Kris Kross jeans of subcultures. So, now that they’re on the out, there’s a power vacuum, and attempts to fill it with more of the same (see “lumbersexuals” and “yuccies“) don’t seem to be gaining too much traction.

The balance of the universe is at stake. What we need is the next hipster: a fresh new stereotype to joke about/lust after (depending on your alignment) for the next few years. Seeing as I’m currently locked in the writing barrel, and the other columnists refuse to let me out until I find one, here goes:

#5. Raggare

I’ve never been a greaser myself because, frankly, I can only handle so much Buddy Holly, but I have a long-standing affinity toward 1950s aesthetics. That’s why it’s always pissed me off a little that, apart from a few fashion revivals and Stray Cats in the 1980s, the culture has been firmly sidelined from the mainstream for decades. Still, just because it’s not front and center doesn’t mean that it’s not evolving. In Sweden, strange things are happening:

It’s like Mad Max had a drinking competition with Grease, and everyone lost.

Raggare have been around since the 1950s, but they truly kicked into gear during the 1970s oil crisis: When America found it didn’t have money to drive its giant-ass cars, many Swedes said, “Fuck yes, American stuff for cheap,” and bought themselves a bunch of Buicks, Dodges, and suchlike in prime condition. The rock ‘n’ roll attitude arrived with the cars, and they’ve never stopped since. These days, raggare are a culture old enough to have subcultures of its own: the relatively mellow old-timers who tinker with their machines and arrange garage parties and drives, and the younger generation, who are feistier and, if the pictures are any indication, possess a very different attitude about their cars’ appearance.

Feber “I’m telling you, man, thatched car roofs are the next big thing.”

Hipster Pros:

Raggare have a look. They have a very specific thing that they do. Most importantly, they’re not just a phase you grow out of. Guys from the 1970s are still in the scene and have no intention of stopping. These guys could have actual lasting power.

Hipster Cons:

They’re seasonal. The raggare lifestyle is all about old cars, suede shoes, and painstakingly pomade-sculptured hair, all of which go right out of the window when mother nature decides to make your region eat a faceful of winter. For the colder portion of the year, many raggare tend to go around in modern cars and season-appropriate clothes and generally give more of an upstanding citizen vibe. Today’s Twitter-filled world is a hectic ol’ thing, and a subculture that goes into hibernation for a few months every year might not be able to survive even a single media cycle.

I am, of course, proposing that they should mod their cars into all-weather, all-terrain attack vehicles, M.A.S.K. style.

#4. Seapunk

Seapunk is a logical successor to the dominant subculture throne, in that it ticks all the right boxes: They have their own weird, house/hip-hop music, a distinct identity, and a look that sets them apart from everyone else. Also important: Said look is annoying as hell.

Aquaman’s emo years were no one’s proudest moment.

Even seapunk’s origin story is organic, reflects our times, and (most importantly) is easily stupid enough to warrant a torrent of jokes. Someone saw a dream about a leather jacket with barnacles instead of studs and tweeted it, shit went viral — and boom! Online joke becomes a meme, and meme becomes a subculture, complete with aesthetics that look like a tornado picked up the entire Burning Man festival and dropped it in the cartoon ocean part of Oz.

Hipster Pros:

They’re a fucking meme come to life! Plus, no one seems to be certain about whether this is an elaborate joke or an actual thing that exists. Suck on those irony levels, veterans of the hipster scene.

My money would be on the joke, but I think I actually have a shirt like that somewhere.

Hipster Cons:

It might be too late. We live in a time where most cool new things are almost immediately appropriated by the mainstream. So, barely a year into its short life, pop stars from Rihanna to Azealia Banks were already flirting with the seapunk aesthetic, stripping it of what little underground value it had. By most accounts, the movement largely fizzled out of existence by the end of 2012, meaning that the Mayan people were right about at least one small, sad apocalypse.

Even if there is a strong seapunk scene bubbling under the streets and just waiting to explode upon us in all its aquamarine glory, there’s the fact that apart from the 0.01 percent of seapunks with the looks, time, money, and eye for visuals to regularly look like a naval-themed wedding cake, pretty much every aficionado of the movement would end up looking as out of place as the left shark in Katy Perry’s Superbowl performance.

FUCK YEAH LEFT SHARK, YOU SHOW THEM!

This would, of course, be totally awesome and thus severely undermine the subculture’s ability to function as a hate sink.

#3. Gopniki

Weird Russia

There are plenty of working class cultures around the world that wear track suits and designer gear — British chavs, Polish dresy, Australian bogans, and gangsta rappers, for instance. However, those are not what we’re going to talk about today. Today, we’re all about the gopniki. They’re the Russian variation of the ghetto gangster theme and therefore, by default, 125 percent rougher around the edges and in possession of precisely none of all the fucks. If you see a weird YouTube clip about a 20-something in a cheap track suit doing an activity that makes you instantly nod and think: “Yep, Russia,” chances are it’s one of these guys.

Case in point.

Hipster Pros:

Every once in a while, society needs its dominant subculture to be more than just a remora sticking to pop culture’s underbelly. Sometimes, we need it to give us a good, hard slap on the balls and make us look in the mirror. It’s been a while since we had one of those, and none of the current ones fit the old “my son/daughter is not going to go out with one of those people” bill better than the gopniki.

Also, I’m completely on board with a rerun of the Slav squat meme.

Hipster Cons:

Gopniki are not known for their open-mindedness, but extremely so for their tendency to drunkenly fight anything that moves. Unless you’re a terrible person, they’re not going to agree with your political views too much and, on occasion, might be inclined to do their disagreeing with the soles of their Adidas instead of angry blogging.

So, while a gopnik might be a very good target for a casual “ugh, can you believe what I saw one of those fucking gopniki do today at Starbucks?” said offensive activity might involve a lot less pretentious screenplay writing with an actual typewriter and a lot more high-impact slurs and poor impulse control.

Also, I really, really don’t want that goddamned slicked-forward inverted mullet hairstyle half of them seem to sport to catch on. I still haven’t recovered from topknots.

Actually, yeah, let’s pass these fucking guys. Besides, I have a much better candidate just around the corner …

#2. Haul People

Back in the murky depths of 2011, Cracked’s resident trend expert Daniel O’Brien became baffled by a phenomenon known as haul videos. They’re seemingly random YouTube clips where girls fawned over their shopping “hauls” on-camera and, for some inexplicable reason, raked in five- to six-figure views.

I remember this well. Back then, it seemed like just another weird kink of the Internet, a video version of a meme. Surely, people have long since grown bored of watching a bunch of creepy kids wave their purchases at the camera and wandered away to watch more cat videos or someth-

… ing.

6.7 million views? Actual production values? What the shit?

Sure, they’re still not particularly widely known, but they’ve been moving and shaking in the marginal like no one’s business. The people who make haul videos used to be called haul girls, but now that guys are in on the action, too, I don’t think the community really has a name yet — haulers? Haulsters? I’m just going to go ahead and call them “haul people” and hope it’ll stick until the Mole Man mishears the name and attempts to enslave them all. Many of the more successful ones have PR agents and deals with fashion and cosmetic companies. They have been featured on Good Morning America. They have a distinct identity, albeit that of vapid fucks yammering about consumer products to unseen audiences. There are even people who make haul parodies. If that level of sadness doesn’t ruin your day, I don’t know what will.

Hipster Pros:

Easier to hate than a shit-smeared street performer singing Nickelback, yet inexplicably popular enough to have some semblance of legitimacy. Those are the main definitions of, well, every fucking successful subculture in history, and haul people pass them with flying flags.

Flags that they shape out of giant shopping bags.

Hipster Cons:

They’re not ready just yet.

Although they have vast potential as a highly visible subculture that everyone will do their level best to forget in five years’ time, haul people currently lack direction. They’re basically low-key corporate shills, buying/getting junk and peddling it for us. However, the extreme popularity of fringe haul genres such as unboxing videos shows promise for something much, much grander and more stupid. Give it a year or two; I have hope that the community will find certain defining themes and Flanderize itself into something we can truly be baffled by on an ironic-mustache level.

#1. These Fucking Guys

For the love of G’huul the Great Eater, keep the sound on.

Hipster Pros:

All of them.

Hipster Cons:

None. We’re done here. I don’t care who these people really are. I don’t care what they’re supposed to be doing. All I know is that they look like an explosion at the My Little Pony factory’s neon paint subsidiary, and someone edited the Thomas The Tank Engine theme to sync with their goofy-looking space outfit flailing. That is the level of bafflement we need right now, friends, and I now want these guys to explode all over our pop culture fucking yesterday — preferably, while contractually obligated to carry a boom box that blasts out the Thomas theme 24/7.

Pauli Poisuo is a Cracked weekly columnist and freelance editor. Here he is on Facebook and Twitter.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/5-insane-subcultures-that-might-become-the-next-hipster/

[opalmothnightingale]

Keep My Puzzle

1- 27 - 18 - 

If you would like to talk to me, if you would like to do things with me, if you even so much as feel you love me,...  Yes and, even if you feel so head over heels,...  Then I need you tell me how do you want to talk?  How do you want to spend time together?  How do you want to love me?  

I’m a meditative lover, a meditative friend,...  I spend much of many days solely in the realm of meditativeness, which, for me, is to be speechless, even still, moving none, but sometimes moving,...  Sometimes doing things, moving meditation, all day long,...  but no promises.  

I tend to revert to this kind of snail-like state of being where I’m mostly hibernating except for the meditative mind as its gears move around...  in their own slow motion.  Often slow brewed ideas going on for hours, days, like some slow born child, like my daughter was, 3 days before they sliced me open because it seemed it wasn’t working.  Though it was agony...  

No easy 3 days...  This is more like peaceful days, but intermingled with torment and loss, confusion, brain fog...  And if nothing else, mental and physical molasses of being...  Completely stuck and not moving much.  Unable to bring myself out of myself to interact.  

Well,...  No one wants to interact with that, there’s nothing to do.  You may as well watch the grass grow...  

What could I have to offer?  I find pieces from my slow deep diving.  Ambitious tortoise am I.  I have deep dreams and insights, big far explorations and hopes and goals, to bring them back from the sky, the clouds, the stars...  To not be hobbled by the gravity of mars (to quote some dreams my daughter told me of lately that she had). 

I want you to keep the pieces of my puzzle that are your own pieces of your puzzle, but just keep them in you.  If you want them.  

They’re kind of like replicas of my pieces of who I am, and will stay with you as long as you can remember and maintain them, if they need some care to remain whole and full and alive.  If they somehow get lost or destroyed then sometimes you forget or lose the connection that someone gave you but you know...  It was always a mirror, of your own potential, that I activated, or the other activated,...  And that is what relationships are like.  

I despise this deep entangled assumption, spend all our time together, talk about how much we adore each  the time, swoon in love, become obsessed....  That is how it always was, with boys I dated (I only dated when we were young enough to be called girls and boys and not since I dated my husband, from 18 onwards)...  What can be said?

They always made me feel more in love than I would have felt otherwise.  It built up good feelings.  It drew them up like water from the stone.  

Oh yes, I suddenly felt infatuated, like I needed them, like I had to meet their needs, like they needed me, like we were two pieces of a puzzle that completed each other but we had to be by each others’ sides almost always,

...so that we didn’t feel like there was a gaping missing piece of our own hearts, our souls, minds, dreams, passions, personalities... 

And it morphed to this infatuation and from that it morphed into real love, bit by bit,...  And it was actually real love.  And it all felt so good.  It was still deeply entangled love.  

Yes,...  And,...  Even though it was real love, it was deeply enmeshed and I feel like it led me down the wrong path, even though it worked well enough in many ways and for a long time.  

I count my blessings that I didn’t end up with someone who was much more harmful and abusive than my husband.  That is what that too fast, too much kind of love can often do...  Make you feel you’re trapped with someone, dependent on them, emotionally, mentally and often materially...  

And then the other sides of them start coming out and it’s normal stereotypical love but it’s often disappointing at best, boring as hell and a ball and chain of guilt and confusion.  At worst it can be insane, total personality changes and even the worst of abuse.

It might become abusive even in a slower paced relationship, but at least then you aren’t so enmeshed and as long as you keep your individuality, then you can still leave,...  It’s understood...  You maintain your separate whole self. 

If someone changes so much and you don’t relate or even find them harmful, then if they don’t or can’t promptly make big changes, you don’t just wait and wait while your life flounders in agony...  It’s too common to be led on...  “Oh I’ll change one day”,..  “I’m trying to change”, etc...  But if you are miserable, the other person needs to take responsibility for their own life.  

No,...

Relationships should be founded on the ability to take responsibility for yourself and not lean too much on the other.  

Unless,... maybe certain health problems might be an exception, but even then, it depends I guess, if it was a self-inflicted health problem for example...  Or it depends on the views and desires of the two people involved.

I am such a slow, retreating, cyclical person with many fallow times of my daily life, for days, weeks, even months maybe...  With little to do but be meditative.  

I have deep insights, values, virtues, from all this meditative diving but it’s usually not spoken of.  Like once you learn it, there is nothing more to say?  Then it becomes like rehearsing the alphabet you already learned by heart so someone who is just learning or still memorizing it can feel happy and engaged... I don’t get in a relationship to be someone’s teacher, not in an overt effortful way at least...  I feel because I am so far along with awakening,...

Because of this,...  there is not much left for me to even talk about.  It makes me think of the silent boatsman in “Siddhartha” that took people across the river and Siddhartha lived with him for a while and they lived in a kind of peaceful silence.  

Haha  Most people would find it intolerably boring and unsatisfying, but this is me and my life..  

No,...  Alas, it’s true... 

Yes, I know,... It’s just that I am not one for romantic over the top things, constant flooding waterfalls of I love yous or affection or anything like that that builds this chemical and emotional and mental romance, this feeling that arises...  Do this and the other follows, however deep, however real or not...  I don’t want that kind of love.

If I will profess my deep love and adoration, I want it to come from very deep inside of me, and be very strong and consistent.