#it simultaneously looks like a star and a flower. and I like that symbolism

[calypsolemon]

i was curious - what was your process in designing the “god forms” (for the lack of a better word) of the ninja for the transcendent au? like outfits or the elemental aspects all of them have

oh this is a FANTASTIC question anon!

It's important to note that not all of the designs are my originals. Jay's is almost entirely @paperbooart's design, as well as input from @emnide, @sphor-art, and many other brickscord people (hi!) in the early stages of au development made its way into the other current designs. Of course these have been tweaked over the MANY years this au has existed at this point, but I still like to give credit where credit's due!

I'll still give a little breakdown for all of them, but it'll probably get a bit long so I'll put it under a cut

My general approach with all of the designs was to make them feel impressive and "godly" in some aspects, but not so godly that they feel unobtainably beautiful. Their outfits are purposefully kept simple to give the impression of gods who were once humans. Each design retains the flower symbol added to the backs of all the minifigures in the movieverse - I'm not really sure what their intention was with the original design, but to me it is evocative of the flower of life, which is a fitting symbol for them as gods imo.

For Lloyd, I drew the most from the design of a yukata. It felt youthful, summer-y, something worn during a celebration, as if he is constantly celebrating the existence of life itself! Over time I’ve made the silhouette of the outfit more feminine to show his androgyny as well (I personally hc lloyd as nonbinary). The sleeves are a little longer than it’d usually be however just to give it a godly flair, and there is a shining golden inner layer below the green exterior, implying the golden power of life inside him. His eyes sometimes have golden flames coming out of them as well, and he sometimes holds a green flame in one hand and his sword in the other, representing the powers of creation and destruction. His hair floats around because I think it looks cool like that lol

Zane’s design is intended to be strongly evocative of winter, as well as slightly imposing due to the bulkiness of the fur collar and the large, long robes. His robotic body would already appear ethereal to people before robotics were re-invented in new ninjago, but I often give it more glowing blue lines than my usual canon zane design, just to accentuate it. I also usually leave this out bc its a pain to draw, but sometimes he has a halo of ice arrows surrounding his head, alluding to the myth of how he created the stars. Really, my approach was him was to capture similar energy to characters like Jadis from narnia, or the snow queen, but with a less hostile edge.

Nya’s is the most detailed design, but the most fun! I wanted her to retain her samurai stuff, so I gave her some proper(ish) samurai armor. The silver of the armor is reflective like water, while the white fur accents evoke imagery of crashing waves. She also keeps some red accents that both connect her back to Kai, as well as her pre-water ninja design. In general I wanted her design to simultaneously feel like the power of a tsunami, but also the gentleness of a still pool of water.

Kai’s design in contrast is probably the most simple, on purpose. It’s similar to his normal ninja gi, just with a funky little tail attached that flows behind him like a flame in the wind. It’s mostly his hair that’s the focus - the tips of it are always burning, as if his godly form can’t even contain his fire. I wanted to keep it basic for him because Kai is the god thats considered closest to humans - his association with some of the most fundamental human emotions like anger, passion, and love, as well as his personal penchant for changing form to disguise himself amongst mortals. No matter what he looks like, its his firey personality that stands out!

I must admit, for Cole I really just went with a lot of things i found attractive lol. Of course, I wanted him to feel a bit heavier and more “grounded” than the other gods. I mostly achieved that by giving him such impossibly massive hair that it takes up half the frame of any drawing that he’s in lol. He already had piercings in my headcanons as well so I simply gave him More and Bigger ones. I accented his outfit with designs of chains, and across his skin I put cracks, revealing the powerful lava boiling just underneath.

I’ll still cover Jay a bit here even though as I said I didn’t do his final design, but I had input into the vibes. His design is supposed to come off as the most light and airy, like he’ll just float away even more than some of the others. You’re also supposed to get the sense that he’s constantly buzzing with energy, never quite standing still. His hair stands on end in a lot of my art because it makes sense with the static electricity.

also none of them have shoes because I don’t enjoy drawing shoes all that much lol

#gods bless you if you read all this #I think a lot of it is kind of obvious but maybe it only seems that way to me because I made them and have kept drawing them for 4 years #ninjago #transcendent au

[futuroprimordial]

Mother's Web

"Imagine a multidimensional spider's web in the early morning covered with dew drops. And every dew drop contains the reflection of all the other dew drops. And, in each reflected dew drop, the reflections of all the other dew drops in that reflection. And so ad infinitum. That is the Buddhist conception of the universe in an image."

- Alan Watts

*

Indra's Net symbolizes the universe as a web of connections and interdependences [...] I seek to revive it as the foundation for Vedic cosmology and show how it went on to become the central principle of Buddhism, and from there spread into mainstream Western discourse across several disciplines.

The Avatamsaka Sutra (which means 'Flower Garland') of Mahayana Buddhism uses the metaphor of Indra's Net to explain cosmic interpenetration. This sutra explains everything as both a mirror reflecting all ana an image reflected by all. Everything is simultaneously cause and effect, support and supported. This important sutra was translated from Sanskrit, and its logic further developed in China under the name of Hua-yen Buddhism.

The Hua-yen tradition was developed by a series of thinkers, most notably Fa-tsang (CE 643-712). Through him, it passed on to Korea and other East Asian countries, becoming known as 'Kegon' in Japan. Hua-yen is praised as the highest development of Chinese Buddhist thought. D.T. Suzuki called Hua-yen the philosophy of Zen, and Zen the meditation practice of Hua-yen. Francis Cook explains the core philosophy of Hua-yen as follows:

'Far away in the heavenly abode of the great god Indra, there is a wonderful net which has been hung by some cunning artificer in such a manner that it stretches out infinitely in all directions. In accordance with the extravagant tastes of deities, the artificer has hung a single glittering jewel in each "eye" of the net, and since the net itself is infinite in dimension, the jewels are infinite in number. There hang the jewels, glittering "like" stars in the first magnitude, a wonderful sight to behold. If we now arbitrarily select one of these jewels for inspection and look closely at it, we will discover that in its polished surface there are reflected all the other jewels in the net, infinite in number. Not only that, but each of the jewels reflected in this one jewel is also reflecting all the other jewels, so that there is an infinite reflecting process occurring.'

Rajiv Malhotra, Indra's Net

*

My Divine Mother

is the primordial Divine Energy.

She is omnipresent.

She is both the outside

and the inside of visible phenomena.

She is the parent of the world,

and the world carries Her in its heart.

She is the Spider

and the world is the web

She has spun.

The Spider draws the thread

out of Herself

and then winds it round Herself.

My Mother is at the same time

the container and the contained.

She is the shell,

but She is also the kernel

~ Sri Ramakrishna

*

My feelings of grief had become unbearable, and I attempted to pull off the road. But as suddenly as the wailing began, it ceased, and everything was transformed. Looking at the landscape around me through the window of my parked car, I wondered at first if I might be dreaming. Every rock, every sagebrush, every lofty pine and blazing aspen, as well as the mountain itself, was bathed in a yellowish-gold light connected to luminous threads. I felt as if I were enveloped in soft down.

"This is not a vision," I said to myself. "I am seeing the world as it really is!"

...The mysterious glow surrounding everything seemed to emanate from within all things...more accurately, perhaps, from within the earth, herself. The threads of light were even more extraordinary. Unlike the visible spectrum of light, these felt alive. It seemed that each strand of this "living light" was self-aware and also aware of the whole. I felt that I perceived, on an energetic level, the very essence of the earth - perhaps the nature of Creation itself. I also felt that for a brief, timeless moment, I perceived the "flow" of things, for these luminous threads of light seemed fluid, shimmering, and eternal. These threads of light were connected to all things, thus forming the impression of a vast living web. There were also strands, which extended upward as if connecting this web to some greater whole. Perhaps they reached into Infinity itself. My heartwrenching anguish had been transformed into utter bliss. It was then that I heard an inner voice telling me that one must know the sufferings of the world before bliss is possible... ...When my perception returned to normal, I thought of the Navaho deity, Spider Woman, who wove the web of the Universe. I remembered the opening verse to an ancient East Indian account of Creation, "Father, Mother, spin a web, whose web is the Universe".

I felt that my eyes had been opened. For the first time I understood what these ancient people must have known through direct experience. For the next half hour while standing on that mountain pass, I continued observing the glow of our world with its luminous threads. I knew that the goddess of our world had shared with me both her anguish and her bliss. Through a spontaneous shift in awareness, I had perceived her energetic configurations, while experiencing a joyous and ecstatic union with this great being - the Earth Mother - in her Gaia, or planetary, form.

- Peter Calhoun, "Soul On Fire: From Priest To Shaman"

***

Left: "Simbiosis", Ana Alvarez-Errecalde

#anima mundi #interbeing #interpenetration #shakti #Indranet #fractal

[rainbow-beanie]

BEHOLD! one of the most heartbreaking parts of Steven universe future:

Baby boi made an oopsie!

#steven universe #steven universe future #steven quartz diamond universe #jasper’s gem #fragments #fragments fanart #also found out a way to draw stars so it’s easier to draw #it simultaneously looks like a star and a flower. and I like that symbolism

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Choose the Sword (Bishop Heahmund x Reader)

Summary: There is only person that Heahmund cherishes above all, and when she is threatened, he realizes he would do anything to protect her…. even sell his soul to a blue-eyed devil. 

This is my contribution to @maggiescarborough​ 500 followers celebration! (I’m so sorry this is late but here we are.)

Flower chosen: periwinkle- religious symbol in the Middle Ages tied to the Virgin Mary, benevolence (desire to do good to others, charitable), nostalgia and purity.

I also decided to add an extra challenge and write for a character I would not normally write for- hence Heahmund. 

Words: 6000

Warnings: implied abuse/mistreatment, mutual pining, couple swear words, heavy religious overtones, Ivar being manipulative 

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​ @evelynshelby​ @pomegranates-and-blood​ @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​

Also, a huge shout-out to @flowers-in-your-hayr​ for this absolutely stunning moodboard. Look at this! Its gorgeous! Be in awe! 

 He knew where she would be. 

 The leaves and twigs underfoot crunched beneath his boots. The morning sun casted shadows as it peeked through the foliage above him. His sword bounced against his back almost in sync with the cross upon his chest. The weight of both, something he was continuously aware of. 

 It was here he first met her on a hazy summer day. 

 It was here the two of them always seemed to find one another like two stars caught in each other's orbits. 

 It was here he could never decide if she was his salvation or his damnation. 

 Along the thin trail, his feet guided him, stepping over sticks and rocks. His mind wrestled with the news, but as his mind fought, his heart broke within his chest. It was a selfish reaction, he knew. Yet that did not cease the pain welling in his chest, so strong it threatened to bring forth tears. He kept them at bay. For he was a man of the cloth, a man of God. 

 But sometimes he struggled with just being a man. 

 Soon the gurgling of the bubbling creek could be heard amidst the summer songs of the birds. His footfalls quickened and after several more paces, she finally came into view. Kneeling near the creek, hands folded before her in supplication, she appeared the very vision of pious purity. 

 Heahmund gently called out her name, like a whisper in the breeze, a soft caress on skin. When her head lifted, turning to find him walking closer, his heart skipped a beat. Those eyes that beguiled him, those sweet lips that only allowed kind words to pass through, and her smile…. oh, that smile that lit up her face like a lamp uncovered to shine in the darkest of nights. 

 To his dying breath, he would fervently believe she was an angel in disguise, a blessing from the Lord God bestowed on his creation to remind them of His goodness. 

 And that was why she was both his salvation and damnation. 

 Because he wanted her. He wanted her with all his soul. But she was too pure, too benevolent, too holy for someone like him. She made him want to be better in both his vows and himself. To fight without wavering in protecting his country from the heathens. To protect her from ever having to fear them. 

 And when she turned those eyes to him, when she smiled gently at him like he was her favorite person on earth, he was undone. 

 "Your Grace." She rose to her feet, brushing off the few pieces of grass that stuck to her green dress. 

 "I heard the news that you will no longer be in my congregation."

 "Yes. My father has family in York. With his failing health, he thinks it wise for us to move there."

 Heahmund hummed in thought as he moved closer. Even though his face remained impassive, his heart clenched at the thought of her leaving. For who else would he look to while saying prayers at Mass? Who else would he recite scripture and poems to while they reclined next to the bubbling creek? Who else was kind enough to seek him out after he returned from a raid, to clean his wounds if any and make sure he was fed?

 "I shall keep your family in my prayers to our Lord." He whispered, now standing before her. "My congregation will not be the same without you…. or your family."

 She gazed shyly at him through those long eyelashes. "You are too kind, Bishop Heahmund."

 "You have denied yourself for many years to look after your ailing father and the rest of your family. If the Pope heard of all your sacrifices for your family and our church, he would name you a Saint."

 "I am nowhere worthy of sainthood. You tease me."

 A smile drew his lips upward as he watched her. "Perhaps a little."

 She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as she looked downward. It took all of his willpower not to lay a hand beneath her chin, the draw those beautiful eyes back to his own, to gaze upon her beauty, both inside and out, for longer. To ask her to never leave him. 

 But it was not his place. No matter how he felt for her.  

 "If it is not too bold of me…." She broke through his turbulent thoughts, her sweet voice trailing off as she toyed with one of her sleeves. 

 "Go on." He encouraged, heart hammering away inside of him. 

 "I made something for you. It's not much, but…. but it's just something to remember me by and know you will be in my prayers as well…. for your protection against the heathens." Quickly she dropped to her knees, digging in the basket by her feet. 

 The basket had gone unnoticed by him as his focus resided with soaking in these last few minutes with her. For he was unsure if the Lord's work would bring him to York. She swiftly pulled something out and held it out with both hands like an offering. His eyes momentarily widened before he reverently reached out and clasped it in his hand. It was a white, square kerchief, soft and pure. It was when he looked at the corners that he truly saw the beauty of it. A small cross was stitched in one corner and in the other opposite corner was a grouping of three small, periwinkle flowers. 

 "Thank you, y/n, truly." He returned his gaze to her, struggling to keep the awe out of his tone. "I shall cherish your gift as if the Virgin Mary herself gave it unto me."

 She giggled, a coy smile on her face. "I would hope that she would bestow a better present for someone as holy as yourself."

 "I would never cherish it as much as yours." He admitted with more candor than he should. 

 Her gaze snapped to his then darted away like a startled bird. A weighty, tense silence hung over them, drawing them closer yet apart simultaneously. For it was this blissful, torturous attraction that left them both spellbound, lost to reality in the presence of the other. 

 Unable to stay away a moment longer, he cupped her cheek with his calloused hand, forcing her eyes to meet his. 

 "Bishop Heahmund…." She breathed out. 

 "Must I remind you to call me just Heahmund when we are alone?" 

 "Heahmund." She murmured, one of her hands coming to rest on the center of his chest. To anchor herself or him to this moment, he did not know. 

 Desire and longing colored the air around them. A tension that pushed their bodies closer without their awareness, until they could feel the breath of the other gliding across their lips. Something burned between them, this thing that remained unnamed for so long. Heahmund knew it was not lust. For that carnal sin was something he intimately knew and had used other women for, much to his disgrace. No, this was something far stronger, far more powerful, far more dangerous for both of them. For as the years passed, it never faded or wavered like a dying flame. It endured. 

 His gaze zeroed in on her bottom lip as his thumb caressed it with an almost-there touch. Her lips parted on a quiet gasp but she made no move to pull away. Those enchanting eyes beheld him with absolute trust. Something he was unworthy of. 

 After taking a deep breath, his hand traced down her neck, to her shoulder and down her arm to hold her hand leaving goosebumps in its wake. He brought her delicate hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles. Then, regretfully, he released her hand. 

 "Come, I shall escort you back to the city. You should not linger out here alone for too long." He said, taking a step back. Needing space before he did something indecent and unbecoming of his station. 

 "Thank you." She replied automatically, blinking rapidly for a second as if waking from a dream. A dream he wished he could have further explored, to share openly with her. Bending down, she grabbed her basket and held it against her hip. 

 They walked back through the woods in silence, more spoken in their actions and looks than could ever openly cross their lips. With each step, Heahmund silently beseeched his God that this encounter would not be their last. Although she was his sweetest temptation, his forbidden apple in the garden, he could not abandon her. It was for her that he picked up a sword to fight the heathens that invaded their land. With what might he had, he would see her protected and defended, that the purity she wore like a veil, the benevolence that dressed her daily, the pure goodness she radiated, would never be blemished. 

 Even if he never had the honor of holding her against his body, of tasting the sweetness of her lips, to hear the pleasured cry of his name from her mouth, to ever be more than just a man of God to her. It was worth it. For she was his angel. 

 *****

 With eyes that could pierce stone in the raging fury bubbling beneath his skin, Heahmund stared at the city of York. 

 Captured by heathens. 

 Those damned sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. 

 Saxon warriors moved about him, none bothering him, either thinking he was strategizing how to reclaim the city or praying for the Lord's protection over His people as they beat back the devils. 

 What none knew, what no one could see, was the despair and wrath gnawing away in the bishop's mind. It took every ounce of his willpower to remain in the Saxon camp with the new King and his sons and not to scourge the city of the infestation of heathens. But to go seek for her. To find and protect her. Somehow in his heart, he knew she was down there. In what condition though, he dared not imagine. 

 When the two sons of Ragnar came in the night to talk of peace, his resolve almost broke. Questions of her coated his tongue like the sweetest of poisons, slowly driving him mad. Yet he swallowed them back down. Not just for fear of his fellow warriors learning of his unholy affections towards her; but fear if she was alive and the heathens realized the depth of his care for her. Surely it would bring about her doom. So when he slipped into their tent like a snake cornering its prey, his fists dirtied by the blood of the Ragnarssons, it was his silent promise to save her, that even from here he would protect her. 

 They must retake the city, to drive out the Vikings, for God and country and justice. Most importantly for him- they must retake the city so he could find her. 

 *****

 "You call me heathen, but to me, I am godly. I live by the gods."

 "There is only one God." Heahmund bit out. The chain around his neck was even more sharp than his tongue. 

 Ivar continued, arrogance dripping off each word. "But I have seen other gods. I have seen the Odin, the All-Father, with my own eyes."

 "They are the devil's work. He conjures up demons and fallen angels to beguile us. And lead us into evil."

 "What is evil?" The raven-haired heathen asked in a haughty undertone. 

 Heahmund sighed, dropping his chin back to his chest. His legs were growing weary beneath him, having been chained here for hours already and he saw no true reprieve in sight. "Slaughter of the innocent." He answered in a whisper. 

 "You slaughter when it suits you." 

 Rage filled the Bishop at the way this heathen turned his words, how he taunted with that arrogant smirk on his face, how he disrespected the one true God. "He who chooses to be heathen is not innocent." He shouted, pointing his finger in condemnation at the ungodly sinner beside him. Then for a moment he wondered if this was why he had been captured by the Danes. If this was all the Lord's mysterious work. His tone softened as he continued to stare at his captor. "But I could show you the ways of God, to salvation and eternal life."

 But it was all in vain. 

 He chuckled darkly, almost as if shocked that the bishop would even try to convert him. "Do you know who I am?"

 "Of course. You are Ivar…. son of Ragnar Lothbrok. Many there are that fear you." 

 "But not you."

 "No, I fear no man….no matter how wicked." Heahmund allowed the sneer to taint his voice at the end. For it was true. No matter the horrendous stories he heard about the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok, fear never sunk its claws into him. For he followed the Will of God. 

 There was only one reason alone that fear gripped him, tighter than a lover, slipped beneath his skin to momentarily poison his mind…. but that reason was gone now. Dead. 

 The two sat in silence for several minutes, a heathen and a bishop, lost in their own thoughts. Heahmund could not help but wonder as he eyed the young man, if this was all some bloody, gruesome game to him. Was he even capable of remorse? Fear? Mercy? Love? Or had the fires of hell already scourged them from his soul?

 The shackles around his wrists grew heavier by the hour. The chain around his neck chaffed. The cold mud beneath him seeped into his trousers, slowly injecting a chill into his bones, amplified by the chains keeping him bound. 

 "I beseech thee, Lord. Save me or show me why I am here. Grant me Your mercy. Do not cast be aside into the darkness. Grant me Your light so I may see." He murmured to himself. 

 The sound of a door opening just off to the side of Ivar could be heard but Heahmund paid no mind. He knew his time on earth was dwindling, for how much longer would the heathen bother to keep him? Surely, he would be killed in a cruel and painful way. When he first took up the sword to defend his faith and his people against the Danes, he assumed that was how his life would end. On a battlefield somewhere, surrounded by blood and screams, with his cross upon his chest and sword in hand. Not like this. Not a prisoner to be tortured for amusement. 

 A soft voice hesitantly spoke up from behind Ivar. "My prince, your brother…."

 That voice. Oh, that voice had haunted his dreams, but lately it had only been heard in his nightmares. She would beg for his help to save her, only to witness her dragged away or killed before his eyes, chains or ropes or fire keeping him imprisoned, unable to do more than scream her name. More than once he had jerked awake to find tears streaming down his cheeks. 

 Now his head jerked up, ears attuned, desperate to see or hear her again, to confirm she was alive and not just a hallucination. To know all his nightmares were wrong. 

 He prayed his nightmares were wrong. 

 Ivar beckoned her closer with an annoyed huff and a roll of his eyes. Then she appeared, as if from the mist. His fears confirmed. Her green dress was ripped and filthy. Her hair matted and unwashed. But it was the dark circles that lay beneath her dimmed eyes, the bruise on her cheek and the split lip that adorned her face which brought his rage to the surface, festering in his gut. His hands clenched into fists at the sight of her and images of what all she must have endured played in his mind. 

 The heathen snatched the cup from her outstretched hands, mumbling something in his own language. "Go." He arrogantly dismissed her with a wave of his hand as if she was some pest he detested. 

 As she turned to walk away, her eyes drifted over to Heahmund and she froze. Time stood still as their gazes locked. He watched as a series of emotions passed over her face- surprise, relief, concern, fear, worry- they all took their turn to shine from her eyes. He wondered if his own expression mirrored hers. Her name, that name that tasted like the sweetest of honey on his lips, danced on his tongue. How he wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her out of his sight. To promise no one would ever hurt her again. To press his lips to hers tenderly. His chest constricted as he witnessed a single tear slip from her right eye, washing away a streak of grime on her cheek. His own tears burned in his eyes, threatening to betray him. Here she was. Alive. But mistreated by these heathens. Something he could never forgive. 

 "You know this…. priest, thrall?" Ivar's amused voice broke their staring, like a bucket of cold water suddenly thrown on them. 

 She jerked, brought back to the here and now, that her and Heahmund were not alone. Wordlessly, she lowered her head and nodded. 

 "Ah, I see." Ivar's shrewd blue eyes jumped between the two as his smirk widened. "You may go to him. I will allow it for now. Ah! And here, give him this." He held the untouched cup out to her.

 Hesitantly, she reached out and took it, as if expecting it to get thrown in her face at the last minute. Keeping her gaze downcast, she walked the few steps to stand before Heahmund. Once more, she peered over to the side at Ivar, silently requesting his permission before proceeding. 

 "Let him drink! I am certain he is quite…. thirsty." The heathen chuckled, playing with his bottom lip. 

 "Y/n…" Heahmund started quietly but she interrupted him. 

 "Drink, please." Immediately, she brought the cup to his lips and carefully helped him to drink. At the slow pace she allowed the water to flow, it was perfect to quench his thirst but not fast enough he would choke on it. A skill she must have learned from the many times she was forced to take care of her ailing father. The whole time, he locked his gaze on her face, refusing to look away for even a moment. For fear of her vanishing. For fear of missing even a second of this cherished time in her presence. Even if he was bound in chains like a common criminal. 

 "Are you well?" He asked once she pulled the empty cup away from his mouth, keeping his voice low for some resemblance of privacy under the heathen's scrutinizing gaze. 

 She peeked at Ivar out of the corner of her eye before whispering back. "I'm alive."

 "Are they treating you well?"

 Her gaze dropped to her hands, clutching the cup. 

 And her silence burned through Heahmund like a wildfire. He knew it was foolish to ask as soon as he uttered the question. The evidence on her face was proof enough. But he had hoped for a different answer. Wanted a different answer. And the truth ate away at him like leprosy. For chained here…. a prisoner…. a prize…. he could do nothing to save her. To protect her. 

 His nightmare coming to pass. 

 He swallowed thickly, emotions clogging his throat. "Stay strong, y/n. The Lord knows the challenges we face and will give us strength to endure. We are not forgotten."

 She nodded, hastily wiping away another tear that slipped down her cheek. "What…. what about you? What will happen to you?"

 Her concern for him warned his soul more than a fire and hot meal ever could. Even amidst her circumstances, she worried for him. She cared about him. Heaven certainly lost an angel when she was born onto this earth. For she was far too good to not be one of the Lord's divine beings. 

 "I'm deciding if I want to keep him alive," Ivar interrupted, tone all together smug and cocky, "or crucify him, like your god. A fitting ending for his priest."

 She inhaled sharply, eyes widening at the revelation. 

 Heahmund wanted to comfort her, but words failed him as he gazed upon her. For his life was no longer in his own hands. A fate he despised. Before he could speak words that would hopefully bring her some solace, the heathen spoke again. 

 "Thrall, come here." Ivar commanded. She walked over to him with visible trepidation, cup still clutched in her hands. Instantly, he grabbed her wrist when she was close enough, the movement as sharp and fast as a viper. The cup dropped and bounced on the ground as she gasped. In the next moment he yanked her down to kneel before him, a soft cry slipping from her lips that seemed to spur him on, a malicious smile forming on his face. So reminiscent of a hungry wolf cornering a young lamb, the taste of blood already tainting the air. An allure the wolf feasted on shamelessly. 

 Heahmund could taste iron in his mouth from how hard he bit his tongue to keep from demanding her release. He could only watch helplessly as this devil toyed with her. 

 "Hmmm…. what is your name, thrall?"

 She said, voice barely above a whisper, eyes firmly planted on the dirt. "Y/n."

 Complacently, the heathen tipped her chin up, staring into her eyes for long enough she began to tremble. He chuckled, moving her face side to side and scanning her body like examining an item for sale at the market. "And who owns you now?"

 "Ha…. Haakon, my prince."

 "Ah. Haakon. A good warrior by our people. But I have heard he is not so kind to his thralls. Hmm?" He stated, but this time his smug gaze was directed at Heahmund, waiting for a reaction. Waiting to see what his latest prize would do. 

 At his statement, she flinched and it felt like a flaming sword was driven through Heahmund's gut. He made no appeal to mask his hatred nor fury, his eyes hard as stone as he met the heathen's unnatural blue eyes. In his mind, he swore to himself that he would never forget the name she spoke with such a mixture of fear and despair. Somehow, he would kill this man. God, help him. 

 Ivar grinned, still focused on his prisoner, even as he traced a finger over her split bottom lip, tears springing forth from her eyes. "Maybe I'll buy you from him. What do you think?"

 She just stared at the ground, body trembling. Completely submissive. Entirely surrendered. 

 "You may go. Tell my brother I will join him soon." Ivar said, releasing her chin. 

 Carefully she scrambled to her feet and took a hasty step back. Her watery gaze flickered over to Heahmund's, meeting his eyes. Oh, how he wished these chains no longer held him. He would slaughter every Dane in York in holy recompense for the abuse she endured. He would shield her with his body, keeping her close until the fear bled from her like poison from a wound, until she was the sweet, vibrant woman he knew. 

 "I said leave, thrall." 

 As if startled out of a dream, she jumped at Ivar's shout. Then spun around on her heel and disappeared the way she had come. The cup laid forgotten on the ground, having rolled away. 

 The bishop dropped his head to his chest. What was left of his heart slowly eroded away inside of him. Why must she be made to suffer at the hands of these devils? Was this why the Lord allowed him to be captured? To save her? 

 "Y/n…." The heathen rolled her name on his tongue, voice inquisitive with his following question. "What is she to you?"

 The Saxon remained silent. He owed his captor nothing. The heathen had no right to say her blessed name, let alone touch her. He was evil, darkness, something to be destroyed. To touch y/n, her perfect soul, was a crime against all that was holy and good. 

 "Ah, you act like she is nothing but I could see it in your eyes. You want her. Like a man wants a beautiful woman. But more than that…. she means something to you. So, answer my question or maybe I'll call her back and slit her throat in front of you."

 Heahmund licked his lips, debating what to say. "She is the Virgin Mary."

 "She's a virgin?" Ivar scoffed. "I doubt that's the truth anymore."

 "No," he snapped, glaring at Ivar before turning back to stare straight ahead. "She is holy and pure. She is the epitome of benevolence, something you would never understand. She is a soft breeze on a scorching day, the spring rain come to bring new life. She is the candle of fond memories, keeping away the dark thoughts that threatened to cloud my mind. She is…. y/n."

 "You love her."

 "How could I not?" He sighed, for that was the truth. No matter how hard he tried, prayed for deliverance, she had wormed her way into his heart and planted herself there like an oak tree.  

 "Well, if Haakon owns her, then she will be leaving soon to journey to Norway with us." Ivar stared at him for a moment before looking away. They sat in silence for several minutes before Ivar laughed and shifted from a sitting position. "Prepare yourself, Bishop Heahmund, you are coming on a journey with us."

 "I am already on a journey." He called out, voice unwavering. 

 "Aren't we all."

 He watched the heathen crawl away like an overgrown snake, deceptive and cunning, wondering what this journey meant for him. What it meant for her. Closing his eyes, shutting out his surroundings, he focused on the feeling of her kerchief tucked away under his tunic. Close to his heart.  

 *****

 The crowd jeered around him, a sound beating against his mind like a hammer. The stench of the ocean clogged his nostrils, the fish guts spilled on the docks and ground, the masses of unrighteous bodies pressing closer to have their chance to spit at him. For once, he was grateful that he did not understand their language so his ears would remain untainted by their insults and taunts. 

 The flaxen-haired Ragnarsson led the parade with Heahmund being the center of attention. Like a spectacle for all to see. A large blond Viking pulled on the chains binding his hands, chuckling at making Heahmund stumble drunkenly to keep his feet beneath him in the unsteady mud. The bishop spat out a mouthful of blood onto the mud. The cut on the inside of his lip a courtesy from a punch to the mouth by the brutish Viking who currently held the chains. 

 Stubbornly, he yanked on the chain binding him, refusing to let himself be dragged around like some stray mongrel. The brute growled at the Saxon and gave a strong pull, disrupting Heahmund's already unstable footing. In the next moment, he found himself face-first in the revolting mud. The cheers of the crowd exploded around him to new heights at his predicament. 

 Through sheer determination and a refusal to appear weak to these ungodly wretches, he rose back to his feet. Will unbroken. Though he walked through the valley of death, he refused to fear the evil around him. The Lord would provide a way. Somehow, he would be delivered. Carefully he wiped the mud from his face on his sleeve.

 Once back on his feet, he could see Ivar sitting at a nearby table. Although from the way he reclined, he acted more as if it was a throne. The infuriating smug look on his face as he met Heahmund's gaze. All resemblance of vulnerability and unveiled candor from the prior night was gone. Replaced with the arrogant warlord who sentenced people to death with laughter on his lips. 

 All night his mind wrestled with their conversation from the prior night. How could he fight for this godless heathen? Surely the Lord would smite him for that? Even if in the fighting he only killed more heathens. Was he not also a man of peace like the Lord Jesus Christ? Which was more important right now? Which one was stronger in times like these…. the olive branch or the sword?

 He walked with confidence until he noticed y/n standing just behind Ivar. His feet faltered for a moment, shocked to see her. Since their encounter in York, he had only snatched a glimpse of her as he was being loaded onto the boats. His mind wandered to her fate more than he cared to admit. There were many times as he sat alone, he gently toyed with the kerchief she made for him, touching the periwinkle flower sewed onto it. His thoughts on her and all his regrets. 

 Now his eyes quickly scanned her, noting the different dress she wore. Something rough and bland he had noticed other slaves wearing. She appeared no worse. The bruise on her cheek was gone, the split lip healed. Her hands clasped before her as if waiting for instruction as her eyes followed him. When they finally met, a flood of relief and concern passed between them. For no words needed to be spoken to understand the predicament they both were in. Both of their fates were no longer in their control, only in the Lord's and their captors'. 

 He could not help but wonder why she was here? To witness his shame? His death? What game was Ivar playing?

 As he watched her, his mind returned to his short burst of despair earlier. How he had called out to the Lord for deliverance. But if the Lord delivered him from the hands of these heathens…. would the Lord deliver her also? But did not the Lord send angels to protect the Virgin Mary as she carried Jesus in her womb? How could he then abandon y/n in her hour of need? For it was unthinkable to leave her alone in their clutches. And seeing her now, dressed as a slave, at the beck and call of the blood-thirsty Ragnarsson, Heahmund would rather slit his own throat than leave her alone. 

 Determination saturating his veins, he tried to move closer towards Ivar but as he took a step, the brutish Viking held him back with an animalistic grunt.

 Ivar waved a hand. "Let him approach, Haakon."

 For a moment, Heahmund froze, his blood boiling at the name. This name he swore he would always remember. He turned to stare at the brute with a newfound understanding, fury a living thing beneath his skin. This was the man who mistreated the one most precious to him. An unforgivable sin. A heinous crime. And with the mischievous glint in Ivar's eyes, the bishop knew the prince had purposefully orchestrated for them to meet. Tearing his fiery gaze away from the brutish Viking, he walked over to stand before Ivar like a convict awaiting judgment. 

 "Shhhh…." Ivar hushed the crowd, his voice carrying with an air of authority. "Now will decide if you fight for us." Grabbing the knife out of the table from beside him, he continued. "Or whether I kill you." He paused, pressing the knife to Heahmund's chest. When he spoke next, his voice was low, a harsh truth only to be heard between them. "Nothing is keeping you alive but me."

 The tip of the knife pressed against Heahmund's jerkin, not a threat but a promise depending on the bishop's choice. With his quiet sigh, he peered past Ivar to look at y/n one more time. One of her hands covered her mouth, eyes wide with fear. Only now was Heahmund able to see the red marks on her wrist, marking of chains, ones he knew he carried also. 

 Without hesitation, the Saxon warrior-priest whispered back, "If I fight for you, y/n goes free."

 Ivar leaned closer, smirk growing on his lips. "If you fight for me…. I will give her to you."

 "Hmmm…." Heahmund's gaze dropped down to the knife still touching his sternum for a second before returning to meet Ivar's penetrating gaze. "Why don't you give me the knife?"

 The manic excitement in Ivar's eyes should have scared Heahmund, but right now he needed blood on his hands. With a wicked grin, Ivar handed the knife over, as if already knowing what was to occur next. He accepted the knife with a huff, surprised Ivar gave it to him. Both smiled darkly at one another, the draw and lust for blood staining their lips. Revenge- a language they both spoke fluently. 

 Slowly Heahmund turned around, the knife pressed to his sternum like he was about to take his own life. Aware of the crowd's eyes on him, he stepped away from Ivar, back into the street. Closer to the brute Viking. 

 Haakon began yelling in his thickly accented English. "Die! Are you afraid?" He sneered, getting right into the bishop's face. "Do it! Coward. Do it!"

 Without a second thought, Heahmund slid the knife home into the Viking's neck. Blood spurting out, coating his hand gripping the knife. As the heathen gurgled, he spat blood onto the heathen's face. The blood on his face was for the punch Heahmund received from him. The knife, though, that was for her. His gift to her. To deliver her from the abuse of the ungodly. He could see death sinking its claws into the Viking, latching itself onto the man's soul to drag him to Hell. With that he let the man drop limply to the mud and threw the knife to the ground nearby. 

 He gazed over the silenced crowd with his piercing eyes, weaponless once again, and curious if one would fight him for revenge for Haakon. They stared back at him, a mixture of shock and anger on many of their faces. A slow clap and madden laughter startled him. He turned back to see Ivar clapping with an unhinged smile. 

 "He will fight with us!" Ivar yelled, arms outstretched as if in victory. 

 The crowd cheered. An example of how fickle a mob can be. As he arrived, being led like an animal to sacrifice, they cheered for his death. Now they cheered for his sword, to fight alongside him. 

 Suddenly a form slammed into him, almost knocking him off his feet. He tensed, prepared to fight until he looked down to see y/n burying her face against his chest, hands gripping his tunic. Her body trembled against his, muffled sobs reached his ears as she clung to him like a lifeline. The bishop lifted his gaze to meet Ivar's, who leaned forward with a side smirk, eyes intently watching the two. As their gazes met, Ivar made a subtle motion with his hand, a quick wave, as if telling him to accept his prize. 

 Careful because of the many eyes still on them and not wishing to cause her harm, he brought his bound hands around her, pulling her closer against him. Embracing her in a way he had only fantasized about. Using his body as a shield, blood staining his hands.

 "You are safe now." He murmured against the top of her head, a storm of emotion whirling in his heart and mind. "You are safe, I promise. I will not let anyone hurt you again. I am here, my angel."

 Silently, she looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks, washing away what grime had been on them. But it was the relief and adoration in her eyes that made him freeze. How she beheld him as if a miracle or answer to her prayers. A reverence in her gaze but also joy intermingled. 

 His heart constricted in his chest; air momentarily cut off by the strong emotion stirring within him. For he knew with every fiber of his being as he gazed down at her, he would do anything to protect her. Would travel any sea to keep her. Fight any army with just his sword by his side. Even sell his own soul to the devil to see her safe. 

 Glancing up at Ivar and the manic smile on his mouth, Heahmund wondered if he had done just that. 

#sophies500 #vikings #vikings fanfiction #vikings fandom #vikings ivar #bishop heahmund #heahmund #bishop heahmund x reader #heahmund x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar's heathen army #vikings imagine #bishop heahmund imagine #mzwrites

[opalescient]

haikyuu fic recs — the most beautiful, lovely, breathtaking masterlist (vol. I)

so i’ve been binging fics to cure my sadness, and i thought that these select masterpieces were too magnificent to not be plastered on every billboard ever. some tore my soul into shreds, while others melted said shreds back whole, but all of them made me feel some form of sheer, unadulterated love, so. please enjoy! 🥰⛅️✨

note: all of these fics are exquisite and you should read all of them, but if you’re short of time, those with ☆ are my all-time favourites!

daisuga

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya ☆ | T

Sugawara Koushi has no idea he's already in love with the man he's supposed to hate.

i lovelovelove how all the concepts tied in together like a perfectly wrapped gift

also very wholesome, made me feel so inexplicably warm. like, love can exist everywhere!!! despite everything!!! that’s just so inspiring

i revisited this many times, i think it was (one of) my first haikyuu fics and honestly. it set the bar so high and i have no regrets

you’d fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder ☆ | G

“Oh. You're. Not Asahi.”

Calmed down enough that he can speak again, Daichi takes a deep breath, his smile settling on his face easily and wide.

“Not as far as I know, no.”

-

Suga accidentally calls a stranger instead of his best friend, tells him all about his burned batch of cookies before realising, and that particular mistake might turn out the best one he ever made.

major, major fluff

the buildup!!!

god this made my yearning for love so much worse

the perfect stranger by downmoon | T

There’s a man standing outside Suga's door.

Scratch that. Start over.

There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.

so domestic please read the entire series from start to finish it has my whole heart

shoyou and tobio as their actual kids 🥺

these two parents are so in love it makes me wanna cry

asanoya

silica sand by lilien passe ☆ | G

Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple message on the outside of the glass.

PLEASE. so well-written it makes my heart glow and ache simultaneously

made me ascend into asanoya heaven

such a brilliantly unique concept i love it A+

qué syrah syrah by loudlucy | M

Asahi wants to be a Master Sommelier. It's the highest honor in wine service, and the certification would allow him to live the life he's always envisioned for himself. Too bad the certification test is notorious for being the world's most difficult.

Most people fail their first time taking the exam, and Asahi is no exception, but he has more difficulty than most dusting himself off and getting back on his feet. Enter Nishinoya, a young man who shares his same dream, and who believes in their goals so fiercely it forces Asahi to embark on a delicious and sensuous journey of viticulture and validation.

AKA The Wine Tasting AU that literally no one even knew to ask for.

NOTE: You Do Not Need to Know About Wine to Understand This Fic!

another super unique concept!!! (´∀｀=)

my god their chemistry is amazing

the writing made me feel things ngl

stop my bones from wondering by cerasi ☆ | T

After graduation, Asahi hides from the world and needs help from a few sources to find his way back.

i want to write sonnets and sing ballads for this fic, it’s that beautiful

as always, Top Notch Writing *chef’s kiss*

no but i seriously... can i kiss the author? asking for a friend 😳👉🏼👈🏼

iwaoi

star-crossed by starlitcities | T

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d envy a human,” Oikawa admits, showering himself in tiny suns, because he can actually feels those, like a fusillade of warm kisses on luminous skin that leave marks. To humans, they’d be freckles. Skin stars, Oikawa calls them. He didn’t make that up, a human did.

“Who created the rule that we can’t touch, I wonder,” Iwaizumi ponders, floating heedlessly through space.

“Maybe it’s because we can fly. Humans dream of flying, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

gsjsgsjshsjshsjsj star!iwaoi

they’re LITERALLY STARS

beautifulbeautifulbeautiful i love how the author conveyed the beauty of touch and humanity 🥺🥺

please bless yourself further with the sequel sun-kissed

conquering the great king by suggestivescribe ☆| E

Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction.

Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

yes.

in fact, this entire series (breaking the rules) features daisuga, kuroken, asanoya and it’s SO GOOD. every single one.

but anyway, character development!!!!! plot!!!!!!!!! writing!!!!!!!! i’m here for it all

tsukkiyama

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon ☆ | M

Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he’s probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he’s at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

SO BEAUTIFUL

i am also a sucker for anything with stars, moons and all the love in between

no words to describe this work of art please just go read it and be blessed

under the lilac tree by raewrites | G

there’s a lilac tree in Kei’s backyard.

gorgeous in its simplicity

softtsukkisofttsukkisofttsukki

not as grandiose as the rest but the love written into every word, action and character is absolutely show-stopping

kagehina

saffron and cayenne pepper by dontsaycrazy ☆ | T

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

-

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

the essence of their characters were captured so well and yet it’s like they’re completely new characters too? author, whoever you are, you totally owned this

this made me ship kagehina so hard

fluff! cuteness! lots and lots of cooing!

kuroken

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony ☆ | T

soulmate

/ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun

A person who was made from the same star as you.

-

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives.

ahhh here it is. beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-emptying agony. you want angst? choke on this, and your tears later on.

no but seriously please read this if you haven’t you won’t regret it at all i promise

written from kenma’s perspective so you experience every depth and multitude of emotion he does and it’s so raw and- brb imma go cry for a sec

knot in my heart by hearthope | T

There’s a picture. Kenma blinks, looking at the little calico cat, being held up next to the face of a guy with stupidly messy hair and a crooked grin.

Cute.

The— the cat. The cat is cute.

Just the cat.

-

Kuroo starts spending a lot of time at the flower shop Kenma works at. Kenma definitely isn't into him.

okay so i like it when authors unravel a normally stoic character’s full scope of emotion and give them depth, sue me.

anyway, back on the fluff train!

i absolutely f*ck with flower symbolisms, cats and bitchy best friends who have dirt on each other. the layers of romance, friendship and everything in between is so prettily developed 10/10

bokuaka

the jacket you never returned by daisuga ☆☆ | G

He leaned over, kissed Bokuto on the cheek, and smiled bitterly, eyes watery.

He will never remember. Not now, not ever.

What they were will now forever be forgotten.

-

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou."

YOU USED TO CALL ME KEIJI, KOUTAROU!!!!!!!!!!

i beg you to listen to Spiegel im Spiegel when it’s first mentioned in the story please

i read this and screamed through my tears for a solid 1.5 hours. i rarely cry.

no f*ckin regrets though i read this thrice already and it hurts so good every time

rules by conesofdunshire ☆☆ | E

In which Akaashi Keiji is an overworked accountant who stumbles upon Bokuto one night playing the piano in the lobby of his work. Bokuto is different, that much is obvious. But with such supreme musical talent and a smile so dazzling it rivals the sun, there's just something about him that brings Akaashi back every night.

this fic. this fic has my whole, broken, sobbing heart and laughing soul

gorgeous. breathtaking. magnificent.

bokuto is so WARM and akaashi is so STRONG and they both find the solace they need in each other and it’s all i want for me 😭😭😭

in another life by littleluxray | T

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

this is a famous fic that i doubt any seasoned haikyuu reader wouldn’t know, and RIGHTLY SO BECAUSE, the PAIN. the pain. the pain.

i could feel my lungs shrivel up and my chest cave in on itself. fatigue and rest are things i struggle with too so this whole story resonated with me from start to finish, and it broke me. in like, the best, most revitalising way

i would read this again but it still haunts me at night. i need to heal from the first time before i have the guts to try one more time HAHAHA 😆💔😭

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau | G

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

mmmmmmm pretty photographer + personalised coffee cups + cute baristas = diabetic fluff fic

i smiled so much throughout this you have no idea. cheeks achey but so good

i may have squealed a little at the ending

kurotsukki

moonfall by batman | T

There is no unlearning Tetsurou, after all. There is only leaving him.

-

(Five things of Tetsurou's that ended up in Kei's home, and one that never left.)

the writing!!!!!! is pure beauty!!!! sheer grace!!!!!!! the construction of the AU and the romanticism and hsjsgsjshsj

didn’t cry but. heart ache and bittersweet smiles are another level of misery that is just as fulfilling

yea just pleasepleasepleaseplease go read it thank you and have a good day

hidden gem by realmSpinner | E

Things get complicated when everything you thought you knew about a guy changes, and they get even more complicated when you actually start liking those changes.

That guy working with you AND becoming your neighbor? That's just a cherry on top of the cake of confusion.

this AU was refreshingly different, and amazingly so

top!tsukki??? sign me the f*ck up

the whole plot, man. perfection.

pings by barfs ☆☆ | T

[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.

[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.

[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.

[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.

god.

you already know what’s coming, and yet. when it comes.

how the f*ck did the author make grief beautiful????????? (at the expense of me dying along with kei and everyone else i guess)

this fic will ruin you and bury you under all your pain (i hope you’re ready)

but also put you back together with the “sequel”

kyouhaba

close to the chest by darkmagicalgirl | T

It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

cause i’m (not) alright with the slow, burn~

no fr, take slow and burn very seriously

overthinking yahaba? i understand. i do.

again, such an amazing fic; 10/10 recommend

safe here by crossbelladonna ☆ | M

“Raids are routine work,” Kyoutani tells to Yahaba before he can air the question. “Sometimes there is no sleep done until we accomplish something, say kill a certain ghoul. I guess they’re still going through the possibility that people in the accident are still alive huh?”

Yahaba quirks a smile, pushing his mask up his head.

“You’re alive.”

Kyoutani looks at him intently and all of the things that they’ve gone through for the past month seems to flash in his mind.

“Yes I am.”

i haven’t watched tokyo ghoul but i understood everything perfectly. such is the power of f*cking kickass writing

*cue ugly crying and a lot of unresolved angst*

like the grief??????? ruin me please thank you 🙏 (i think i’m a little masochistic)

rare pairs

mannequin men by surveycorpsjean ☆ | M

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tuskishima]

The modelling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

i did not expect this to be good, and it wasn’t. it was SPLENDID.

akaashi is so enamoured with them from the get go i love it

a tiny bit of angst that stabbed me in the heart, but the happy ending soothed it (thankfully, because if there wasn’t one i will sue)

characterisation, writing, plot development; everything is great. can you tell i’m running out of synonyms for ‘beautiful’

feel like gold by heronfem ☆☆ | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/kenma]

In which Kenma is unapologetic and comfortable with who he is, Akaashi learns a lot about himself in a short period of time, Kuroo is wildly in love and an eternal survivor, and Bokuto remembers that love doesn't cure mental illness, but having a support system sure helps a lot.

Or, the one where 4 young men get together, and are helplessly, hopelessly, utterly in love despite everything.

e.e. cummings?? poetry??? f*ck yes

so beautiful. i’m so star-struck by this fic it’s simply stunning

there are no words to fully capture how worth your time and heart and mind reading this fic is so please. do yourself a favour, and fall in love with this fic with me

the sky and guilt are the only feelings i have left by oopsthisisqueertoo ☆☆ | not rated

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo]

Akaashi is at his wits end. He feels nothing. He's quickly crumbling as a human being. He wants nothing but sweet release of death. In his fourth year of college he drafts a plan for his suicide. He is to graduate, publish writing for others to be inspired by, and slip quietly away. Shortly after, he meets a dog walker named Bokuto who asks him out and Akaashi reluctantly agrees. Nothing matters anymore and he treats Bokuto like an obligation. Until he's not anymore.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS & DEPRESSION

this was... this gutted me entirely and filled my body with too many shades of agony

arguably one of the best haikyuu fics i’ve ever read

so beautiful in the most painful way fathomable; strongly recommend

april to may by surveycorpsjean | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima]

They're an odd family.

The four of them? Parents?

But still, they're a family.

So they'll support each other until the end.

aaahhhhh third gym as parents 🥺

so much fluff. i also love april and may

they’re still so in love there’s love in every millimetre of this fic :”)

that’s it for now! i’ll add more if i come across anymore good fics. i hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any requests/fic recs, or if u just wanna chat, feel free to just ask! hehe 🥰 k aight bye~

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #fic rec #beautiful #writing #ao3 fanfic #daisuga #kuroken #bokuaka #tsukkiyama #kagehina #third gym #iwaoi #fic #reference #hq

[dwlrmoon]

Astrological Analysis: I.M "Duality"

An astrological analysis of I.M's solo album "Duality" & how his astrological placements manifest through the songs. Changkyun said that he poured his entire soul into this album, so I thought it'll be really cool to dissect the songs in the astrological lens because I'm in love with his artistry.

REMINDER

Observed & analyzed through western tropical astrology; we are missing information due to lack of confirmed birth time, so I can only deliver using the traditional 7 planets (mainly the personal chart) without a house system.

DUALITY

Having the album entitled "Duality" with songs expressing this topic (esp. the title track) reminds me of his Aquarius placements, mainly the Sun. I.M has his Sun in detriment, meaning that his Sun is "weak" or uncomfortable in that sign. As the sister sign of Leo, Aquarius symbolizes celebrities, fame, the star in tarot, as well as hopes & dreams. Aquarius can represent notoriety & infamy while simultaneously having the stereotype of the loner or outsider, not wanting to be perceived or "understood."

Using traditional rulership, Aquarius is ruled by Saturn who also rules Capricorn. If Capricorn rules authorities & conformities, Aquarius is the rebellious younger sibling refusing to conform & rather revolt, deviating from the norm. I.M placed his artistry in precedence; convincing SSE to use God Damn as the title track despite the profanity requiring him to release this album digitally in addition to him creating the tracks in his own style that may or may not be in line with k-pop or Monsta X.

GOD DAMN

In true I.M fashion the song & MV are very concupiscent, & since I already talked about the duality that is expressed through this song, let's talk about the MV specifically. Pisces rules escapism & addiction & his Pisces Venus was very on brand to go with alcohol as the imagery of getting high to hide from his frustrations. This piece is highly self-reflective & he encourages listeners to read between the lines, it's quite Saturnian in nature. I also love how the lyrics have that duality of hating & loving whoever/whatever that is ruining/comforting him—I really associate this with his Martian Moon (him assigning Misbehave as the song that represents him is so... Aries Moon).

HOWLIN'

No more taming 'bout my color I swing 'till I get, what’s the problem? Problem I ain't follow simply what I see I go follow what I need 'Cause I see that I'm loyal Imma go on my speed, even I'm slow

The 1st verse reminds me a lot of his Saturnian + Martian energy—no more wanting to be someone he's not, doing his own thing without care of what others may think. However, the last 2 lines really highlight the fixed modality of his Aquarius: I love that he says he's loyal even if he goes on his speed which can be slow; he doesn't care as long as he gets there.

I don't celebrate 'till I make it till the end Ain't time for the 'hol up' You want me be a shade but I'm made for a big wave Ain't time for the 'hol up'

This song has a lot of Saturnian themes esp. the chorus. It reminds us that Saturn rules time—he doesn't succumb to the challenges & distractions or "hold ups," rather focusing on his goal & only celebrating once he reaches the mountaintop. Saturn is karmic, it takes its sweet time to give you your rewards that you must work laboriously for. He knows he's made for something bigger (Aquarius), & with his perseverance (fixed), determination & passion (Aquarius Mars + Aries Moon), he will be rewarded despite all the struggles (Saturn).

Don't call me, I'm drivin' I just wanna keep on ballin’ Even though when you are hatin’ Woah Grab me when I'm fallin’ 'Cause I make myself so lonely You know that I'm howlin'

However, Saturn can be extremely isolating & Aquarius is akin to the underdog. Of course we don't know where his placements are, but his Pisces Venus contributes to that isolation. He feels lonely & he knows that, but he inevitable makes himself lonely which Aquarius natives can do when they develop that mentality of me v.s. the world sometimes. Keep in mind that Aquarius rules community yet the outsider, showcasing that wanting to be alone while wanting someone to be there for him. Saturn is burden & he's a lone wolf used to being alone carrying all that burden himself.

BURN

The night has become cold and now it's a meaningless fight I don't wanna waste my time on the past time Endless shot, let me head to the top I don't wanna waste my time on the past time Burn the accumulated emotions, burn Burn everything without leaving anything, burn

An Aries Moon anthem? I find that Aries placements love having fire/burning imagery if not in their songs then in their MVs. Aries is Martian, cardinal & fire by nature, which means that Aries Moons may get irritated fairly quickly—a quick temper? But they get over it super quickly, kind of like blowing off steam & then letting it go right after. The Moon rules our emotions, & I think the lyrics speak for itself here. The allusion to the fight is very Martian as well.

I'm mixed and complex, yeah I don't know myself well, eh Yesterday I couldn't empty it out, yeah I'd rather burn it, yeah The tears that fell are oil Make the flame burn higher Pour it out, no more regrets Burn it all up and high, yeah

I really enjoy I.M's introspective & intrapersonal nature; he always says he doesn't know himself well & accepts that rather than fighting it. He accepts all facets of himself, & that's very refreshing. The 2nd verse made me chuckle a little bit because the first 2 lines look Aquarius while the rest is Aries. Not to mention he has an Aquarius Mars conjunct Sun, so, more Martian energy there. Cardinal + Martian give me that attitude he portrays very well in this song—throw some more oil, let it burn more so that there'll be no regrets. Another Aries placement who wrote something like this? Yoongi.

HAPPY TO DIE

I could die right now, yeah I can never lie, yeah You bring me to sky Let me be yours till I die When you say goodbye, yeah Bury me on your heart, yeah Don't you say that word Could you keep it till I die? You brought me back to the real love I wanna get lost here forever

There is so much to unpack in this little song... The chorus is a mixture of Saturnian commitment & Aries headstrong, passionate reckless energy motivated by his romanticist Pisces Venus. The title itself, the whole concept of this song, is fundamentally Pisces (his DSC would be really cool to talk about here, if we had the birth time, but we don't, so).

We're childish like we were when we used to play back then I let go of rationality as if I'm drawn by the wind I don't know what this feeling is Even if I try to pretend I don't know, everything seems to be obvious, yeah I don't know, I like it the way it is I don't know me well, I don't know I guess it's not a lie that I really like you I'm happy to die right now

Verse 1 truly has my heart in a grip. He has a rational & intellectually-minded Saturnian Mercury & Sun, yet once he's in love he gets enamoured & childish, rendered completely irrational. It's giving me Aries meets Pisces—of the moment, idealistic, just overwhelming emotions taking control of his Saturnian mind, which I find funny because he has Moon square Mercury.

Things of mine might go away and shape Will just change, but don't you change When I'm low, could you make me not alone? I could die right now if we were just this crazy about each other

Pisces is sentimental & can represent past lives, that feeling of being stuck in the past? Pisces Venus is visionary & idealistic, they're more in love with the idea of love than love itself sometimes. Here we see that theme of isolation again, his Aquarius could play a role here, but his Pisces placements are also desperate to be loved. The last line, like said before, is utterly Pisces because Romeo & Juliet is known to be a Pisces type of relationship, plus with that Aries Moon... it just makes sense since Aries Moons love the rush & passion.

시든 꽃 FLOWER-ED

Somehow I have no strength to resist I stay right where I am It's not like I'm longing for someone But I'm standing there

Personally loving how his songs gradually grow more & more Piscean? The overwhelming emotion of yearning with no one to long for is so Pisces/Jupiterian Venus in general. Like I said, they're idealistic & in love with the idea of love more than anything—not the happy kind of love either. I notice that Jupiterian Venuses play with the theme of wanting a lot, mainly because they are ruled by the planet of expansion. Distance is a huge theme in Jupiterian signs, & they idealize that.

When you step on me like it's nothing I desperately want you to come back and hug mе I deeply remember your smilе that laughed at me While I was being illuminated by you

Because Pisces placements love the idea of love & the feeling of longing for someone they can get into the habit of sacrificing themselves, hence their association with the hanged man in tarot. They are too focused on the fantasy of love to take off their rose tinted glasses.

I don't really blame you I know your days by my side Have faded away Please don't disappear, oh

The hand that held me, the eyes that captured me are all blind The scattered hands, the shining eyes are gone

I don't know what else to say here, like, I think you guys understand how these verses really depicts his Pisces Venus very well... With a Venus conjunct Saturn it can really emphasize isolation & rejection as well—this aspect feels like they are deprived of love, so they crave it desperately even if it hurts them which is a theme of Pisces. Him titling this track "withered flower" in Korean is so Pisces Venus of him overall.

#i.m #changkyun #im changkyun #monsta x #kpop astrology #monsta x astrology #changkyun scenarios #monsta x scenarios

[passionate-reply]

What would Great Albums be, if not for defenses of albums lots of people hate? SPK’s Machine Age Voodoo is, of course, one of those albums, being the attempt of a noisy, drony early industrial group to make synthy disco magic. Did they succeed? Well, maybe not--but at least it’s interesting. Find out more by watching the video, or checking out the transcript under the break!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! This time, I will be once again be coming to the defence of an album that’s been very divisive: Machine Age Voodoo by SPK, first released in 1984. Earlier in the 1980s, SPK had distinguished themselves as one of the most prominent figures of the nascent “noise music” movement, alongside acts like NON and Throbbing Gristle. Just two years before Machine Age Voodoo, they released their arguable magnum opus: Leichenschrei, an album that eschewed a traditional tracklisting, featured the mutilated visage of a victim of napalm burns on its cover, and sounded something like this:

Music: “Seite ((Klono))” / “Napalm (Terminal Patient)”

With their follow-up to Leichenschrei, SPK would take their sound in a very different direction. They abandoned the harsh, buzzing textures and nauseous, whirring drones of their earlier work, and set out in a remarkably more pop direction. While Machine Age Voodoo features verses and choruses, brighter synth textures, and winsome slap basslines, it still maintains a certain “industrial” identity, tying it into the same overarching web of related styles that SPK’s earlier work fell under. This album reminds me a bit of Depeche Mode’s mid-80s output, such as Some Great Reward, in its incorporation of both synth-pop structures as well as some accents of mechanistic clangs and bangs. Depeche Mode and SPK were, of course, passing by one another after coming from opposite directions on this spectrum, but the end results remain comparable.

Music: “Junk Funk” / “Machine Age Voodoo”

Listening to the album’s stomping opener, titled “Junk Funk” on most releases but made into the title track for the US market, I’m struck by just how upbeat of a track it is. Where many industrial acts are keen to portray modern labour as a punishing, soul-sucking, miserable endeavour, “Junk Funk” seems to make it into something of a party. Given that even Depeche Mode were penning tracks like “Everything Counts” with a dour outlook on capitalism, the seemingly playful aura surrounding this single really sets it apart--though not necessarily in a good way. As I mentioned earlier, *Machine Age Voodoo* has consistently been panned by fans of the group’s more aggressive earlier work, and I think the album’s affinities with light-hearted, and perhaps even silly, post-disco pop make it all the more easy to write off as ridiculous and asinine. But much like simply being in a style you don’t care for isn’t a reason to lambaste a work of art, simply being lighter in tone is no reason to reject something. Not all great art needs to be stone-serious, after all! While Machine Age Voodoo may not be a continuation of the classic SPK sound, I think it’s an album that has plenty of appeal for fans of lighter synth-pop, and one that I wish had managed to achieve a bit more renown among those who might be a bit more receptive to its style.

Naturally, the title of the album and the themes of its sometime title track invite us to consider the role that appropriation of “primitive” themes has to play. Ever since industrialization and colonialism began to create large separations between the lifestyles of “the West and the rest,” Western artists from Picasso to Gauguin have found themselves fascinated by so-called “primitive” ways of life, found among communities of colour whom they believed to live closer to the natural or archaic state of humankind, uncorrupted by capitalism. But followers of the religion sometimes known as “Voodoo” are living in the modern world as much as anyone else is, and the use of their faith as a symbol of barbarism or the unrestrained id here is presumptuous at best, and bigoted at worst--particularly given the reference to “funk,” a music style that, like Voodoo, is strongly associated with Black culture. The love for things “primitive” has served an important cultural role in the West, offering an apparent alternative to the crushing death spiral of capitalism, and serving as an outlet for questioning the assumed status quo and the truth of human nature--but at the same time, I think we can fairly criticize it for offering a stereotyped and tokenized view of cultures outside of the West. Machine Age Voodoo offers another, very different, perspective on the Other on its second track, “With Love From China.”

Music: “With Love From China”

Compared to “Junk Funk,” “With Love From China” is distinguished as one of the album’s more plaintive and less dancefloor-oriented tracks, and, in contrast to “Junk Funk”’s joyful embrace of “high technology hoodoo,” “With Love From China” portrays the titular Communist power as something quite sinister. While a simple read of the lyrics suggests that it may be a triumphant hymn to the state, the track’s plodding, dirgelike melody makes it hang like an ominous cloud instead. Arguably the most successful state to be built upon Marxist ideals, China is a prominent feature of lots of early 80s synth-pop, where it and other Communist states saw varying portrayals as anywhere from dystopian to utopian. Like the appropriation of “voodoo” earlier, the dread romanticism applied to China by SPK on this track says more about them than it does about China itself. I think both tracks, taken together, paint a picture of a sort of “anywhere but here” ideology, defined less by any strong feelings for these particular cultures, and more by a desire for an escape to the exotic, and an abandonment of all that is sick about the West. Overall, though, “With Love From China” isn’t necessarily a fair representation of the average track on Machine Age Voodoo, as the album consists mostly of higher-energy tracks, like “Metal Dance.”

Music: “Metal Dance”

Perhaps the track most clearly aimed at nightclub rotation, “Metal Dance” feels like a logical choice for the album’s first single. Less of a pop tune and more of a floorfiller, “Metal Dance” still hums with industrial touches, propelled by clunking metallic percussion and chant-like shouts that prefigure the synthesis of machine music and club fare that EBM acts like Nitzer Ebb would achieve later in the 1980s. With its succinct title and a compelling hook that implores us to “synthesize our dreams away,” “Metal Dance” almost feels like a love letter to the sheer concept of electronic music for dancing to--a consummate paean to the discotheque, even if it comes from what may seem like an unlikely, and perhaps dishonest, source. A similar embrace of dance music qua dance music is found on “High Tension.”

Music: “High Tension”

If “Metal Dance” sounds like a preview of later industrial dance genres like EBM, then “High Tension” feels like a throwback to the first attempts to “synthesize” an electronic disco, with its dense, complex production style, prominent bass, and lyrics that promote “danc[ing] ‘til you drop” as a response to “bad times.” Despite its compelling use of a well-textured vocoder, “High Tension” veers away from the worship of the machine that was central to “Metal Dance,” and its straightforward celebration of dancing itself makes it feel like the most likely genuine crossover hit on the album--not that it really had any. It’s also worth noting that the track’s bridge contains an early reference to “hip-hop,” back when artists like Man Parrish were freely using the term to describe club-friendly electro that didn’t necessarily include rapping. Times have changed, of course, but I think “High Tension” fits right in with other works in that style--even if, again, it comes from a group that nobody would have expected to make music like this!

On the cover of Machine Age Voodoo, we see a fantasy cityscape, defined by a massive tower crowned with the band’s name accompanied by a Communist-inspired red star. It’s as firmly removed from the vile and shocking imagery of Leichenschrei as the music contained within. But, just as the music has retained some degree of industrial sentiments, the cover is not without its own sense of subversion--it is, after all, apparently enshrining the ostensibly dangerous, foreign ideology of Communism!

It’s tempting to compare this image to the futuristic imagery of Fritz Lang’s classic silent film, Metropolis, particularly given that there’s also a track on the album that shares that title. But I think that the visual style employed here, with its blocky, cubistic rendering of form and lively use of diagonals to enrich its composition, is perhaps more reminiscent of the work of the Russian avant-garde of the 1910s. Even before the Russian Revolution, pioneering abstract artists, like the “Rayonist” Natalia Goncharova, were looking towards the exciting potential of the future, and making art that celebrated the beauty of machines in motion. The early abstraction of painters like Goncharova would go on to influence the abstract art associated with the early days of the Soviet Union, which makes it a particularly fitting affinity given the themes of Machine Age Voodoo.

After Machine Age Voodoo, SPK never returned to making more melodic music--perhaps unsurprisingly, given the album’s simultaneous failure to achieve crossover success, or retain the interest of their existing fanbase. They returned in 1986 with Zamia Lehmanni: Songs of Byzantine Flowers, an album of dark ambient music that avoided slavishly copying earlier works like Leichenschrei, while still feeling like a worthy continuation of the spirit in which they had begun their career.

Music: “Invocation to Secular Heresies”

My favourite track on Machine Age Voodoo is “Seduction,” which is easy to overlook as it actually only appeared on the US release of the album. “Seduction” is striking for its blatant, wantonly sexual lyricism, which, when combined with SPK vocalist Sinan Leong’s competently sultry vocal style, recalls the best work of the experimental disco outfit Gina X Performance. And much like Gina X Performance, there’s a bit of subversively queer gender-bending to be had here, as a male backing vocalist repeats Leong’s line, “you call yourself a man?” I think that may be unintentional, a sort of happy accident, but I love it nonetheless. That’s all I have for today--thanks for listening!

Music: “Seduction”

#music #spk #industrial #industrial music #great albums #album review #album reviews

[doomonfilm]

Ranking : Jim Jarmusch (1953 - present)

When you get someone adept at the art of filmmaking that can resonate at the highest vibrations when creating, that is a blessing in itself, but when you get a jack of all trades, everyman who is deeply observant and unabashedly humanist, and happens to make films to boot, then you start reaching the realms of Jim Jarmusch.  As a Midwestern kid who studied at New York’s famed Columbia University before transitioning to a span in Paris, Jarmusch has the unique gift of deeply appreciating lofty art on the same level as outsider, underground art, and by understanding the context that connects all of them, his appreciation of time is enhanced by association.  In a world that has become obsessed with taking in information with no intention of retention at a breakneck speed, it is refreshing to know that Jim Jarmusch has stood his ground in terms of deliberate pacing and tone.

Most of my Jarmusch familiarity came from the first half of his catalog, and it’d been years since I watched his work, so rather than rank what I remembered while trying to fit first watches in, I decided that the time was right to revisit the entire catalog.  Doing so not only gave me a broader understanding of his overall vision, but it made me realize that a director with 25 years in the game is still capable of making drastic style shifts.  Without further ado, here is my preferential ranking of the 13 Jim Jarmusch films available as of March 2021.

13. Coffee and Cigarettes (2003) This isn’t a bad film, but Coffee and Cigarettes definitely reeks of a narrative-less venture.  The best parts of Coffee and Cigarettes come in attempts at placing what was shot explicitly for the film, versus what was shot during the previous fifteen or so years that Jim Jarmusch directed other feature films.  Taken as a collection of independent vignettes, the film is rich in memorable moments, but for a director so adept at unifying themes with incredible nuance, specifically within the obtuse hurdles presented by an anthology film, Coffee and Cigarettes feels much more like assorted pieces than a fractured whole.  More so than an original idea, the movie feels like a deep cut that true fans will appreciate, casual fans can easily reference, and Jarmusch-laymen can use as an entry into deeper conversations.  If nothing else, see Coffee and Cigarettes for the incredibly entertaining scene where Cate Blanchett acts circles around Cate Blanchett, but Cate Blanchett still does her thing. 

12. Broken Flowers (2005) Bill Murray has been popular longer than I’ve been alive, but somewhere around the beginning of the 21st century, it seemed like the entire world caught Bill Murray fever in a major way.  After a couple of iconic roles in films by Wes Anderson and Spike Jonze, his star was riding new and unfathomable highs, and that was right when Jim Jarmusch teased collaboration via Coffee and Cigarettes before diving headlong into it with Broken Flowers.  Of all the Jim Jarmusch films, this one still feels the least like his style, at least in terms of purity.  Most of its magic comes from surrounding Bill Murray with Jeffrey Wright as a human conscience, as well as a parade of memorable actresses the likes of Sharon Stone, Frances Conroy, Jessica Lange, TIlda Swinton, Chloë Sevigny and more.  The film runs high on charm, and for any man staring at the Autumn of his years, the feelings of romantic regrets are likely relatable on some level.  Interestingly, this project feels like one of the most accessible in the Jarmusch canon, perhaps because of its efficient production presentation.  If there were ever a Jim Jarmusch date movie, it’s Broken Flowers.

11. Permanent Vacation (1980) Upon initial viewing, Permanent Vacation possesses many of the earmarks of a student film, such as limited locations, long passages with minimal dialogue, symbolic monologues in place of standard narrative dialogue, and isolated characters within the context of an implied bigger world.  The strengths that the film possesses, however, are elements that became staples in Jim Jarmusch films : a protagonist either absent of motivation or driven from within, cross-cultural fascination and iconography and the aforementioned patient approach to narrative are some of the key ingredients in the Jarmusch recipe.  As a unique voice in a burgeoning New York collective of filmmakers, it makes total sense that his debut would be both an ode to New York City and an ode to living life like an outsider in the mecca of culture.  This film probably wouldn’t be the best place to start a curious party to the Jim Jarmusch canon, but it would certainly be one to circle back to if their interest is piqued… I would recommend this one to fans of Richard Linklater’s early work for sure.

10. Stranger Than Paradise (1984) Stranger Than Paradise marks the first of many black and white commercial releases from Jim Jarmusch.  As a second film, it has everything you’d want to see from a director finding his place in the industry : the cinematography has evolved and incorporated more movement, Jarmusch is starting to let his personality shine through via musical choices, and the stories are evolving into more relatable narratives rather than ruminations on isolation (while simultaneously becoming much funnier).  Jarmusch still isn’t afraid to let his films breathe, however, which leaves his distinct style present even among the areas of growth.  The incorporation of a strong female lead presence (thanks to Eszter Balint’s brilliant performance) showed that Jarmusch had a full understanding when it came to presenting stories for everyone on the screen, rather than limiting his voice to male characters.  The casting of John Lurie and Richard Edson opposite one another is kinetic both visually and in terms of performance, as each of their versions of uptight laid-backness compliment one another.

9. Night on Earth (1991) Of the anthology films that Jim Jarmusch has created, Night on Earth is possibly my favorite.  More so than any of the others, it captures the intriguing aspects of human nature by juxtaposing them directly against the very human tendency to judge books by their covers.  With the vast majority of the film taking place in a handful of taxi cabs, we are left in the hands of the actors and actresses in the hopes that their interactions, chemistry and dialogues can keep us captivated, and the cast presented in the film completely stand up to the challenge in their pairings.  Jarmusch also presents movie audiences with a way to show different worldly locations without having to lean on the cinematic and iconic shorthand that we are used to, such as the Hollywood sign, Times Square, the Eiffel Tower and so on… instead, we are shown places that locals would inhabit in all of their rundown and lived in glory, which in turn, amplifies the grounded realness of the interactions, as if we are looking at a fictional blueprint for what would later become the popular HBO series Taxicab Confessions.  This film sits in-between two of Jim Jarmusch’s most iconic releases, so it is easy to see how this one could be easily lost in the shuffle, but it is certainly not a film to be missed, especially for those who would consider themselves Jarmusch fans.

8. Paterson (2016) Jim Jarmusch brings a humble sense of humanity to all of his films, but Paterson stands out for its nuance, subtlety and confidence in its patience.  Much like Forrest Gump or a less abstract Charlie Kaufman film, Paterson dwells in an interesting realm of an unknowingly wise protagonist tethered to the center of tornado-like emotions and experiences from all they encounter.  Jarmusch manages to take this framework, dial down the absurdity to a sneaky degree, and ramp up the grounded elements to the point where a viewer cannot help but graft pieces of themselves onto the events presented.  As a musician with a day job, I can also relate to Paterson’s displays of beauty found in redundancy, and the peace that comes with understanding intentions for creative expression, even if others see it in a different light that you do.  While not the grandest of Jim Jarmusch gestures, it is without a doubt one of the most sincere and heartfelt of his selections.  

7. Mystery Train (1989) Mystery Train marks the first definitive signs of Jim Jarmusch knowing, understanding and utilizing the tools he’d come to favor in a manner that seemingly resonated what he pictured in his head.  Memphis as a setting provides the juxtaposition of beauty and urban decay captured in Permanent Vacation; placing our audience on a journey with two foreign tourists brings the worldly view introduced in Stranger Than Paradise; and, most importantly, all of the coolness and humor that thrived in Down by Law returns triumphantly.  Jarmusch also puts anthology filmmaking on the table, which is important for two reasons… first and foremost, it would become a style he would go on to thrive in, returning to it immediately with Night on Earth and once more with Coffee and Cigarrettes… secondly, as for Mystery Train directly, it allowed Jarmusch to surround Masatoshi Nagase and Youki Kudoh (burgeoning stars Western audiences were unfamiliar with) and Nicoletta Braschi, and surround them with his talented friends like Steve Buscemi, Cinqué Lee, Rick Aviles, Vondie Curtis-Hall and Tom Noonan, as well as legendary musicians like Tom Waits, Joe Strummer, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and Rufus Thomas.  Between these high profile castings, the stylish cinematography and the heartfelt quirkiness of the leads, Mystery Train feels like the film where everything came together in the best ways possible.

6. Down by Law (1986) To my knowledge, Down by Law would be considered the breakout success of the Jim Jarmusch library.  John Lurie returned to the fold to provide another performance infused with coolness, but this time around, up and coming Italian star Roberto Benigni and iconic recording artist turned actor Tom Waits share lead duties, forming an unlikely trio with monstrously dynamic on-screen chemistry.  Jarmusch not only switched things up for himself by setting the film in New Orleans rather than centering it around New York, but he turned the jailbreak genre on its ear by focusing on the escapees rather than the escape itself.  The conflict between Jack and Zack is seeded with their individual problems with women (which both include emasculating each man by chastising them for not using domestic violence), as well as each of them ending up framed prior to imprisonment, which makes Roberto the de facto peacemaker despite his huge language barrier.  Down by Law marks the first time that edginess found its way into a Jim Jarmusch film, and while it never became his forte, it wasn’t the last time that element was key to a Jarmusch film.

5. The Limits of Control (2009) When reflecting on The Limits of Control, the word patience comes to mind : the patience of accepting repetition… the patience of a trilingual film with minimal dialogue… the patience of a film that shows much more than it tells.  As a take on noir, the Jim Jarmusch variety brings to mind films like Le Samourai, where actions speak infinitely louder than words, choices come with a definitive set of consequences, and we as viewers are allowed to consider what we are presented with in real time, just like our protagonist.  The coolness levels are also pushed to maximum levels in this film, but then, what’s a Jim Jarmusch film without a generous dose of cool in it?  While it is never rightly stated, I like to pretend that The Limits of Control takes place in the same universe as Ghost Dog, with Raymond having evolved into The Lone Man using the tools left behind by Ghost Dog.  Maybe it’s a bit of embellishment on my end, but it makes an already great film have that little extra touch of pizazz needed to stand out from the pack. 

4. Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai (1999) While Jim Jarmusch isn’t necessarily a household name, he is relatively well known, and for many familiar with his work, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai served as the introductory film for them.  The casting of Forest Whitaker in the lead role continued the trend of higher profile names joining the Jarmusch fold, and stylistically, the mixture of Ghost Dog’s hitman and samurai worlds with that of the mafia film (which was about to see a popularity resurgence in light of the recent premier of The Sopranos) was alive, kinetic, and rich with varied personalities.  Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai also stood as an early example of RZA’s talents in the realm of scoring films, which would later go on to be a key element of Kill Bill: Vol. 1.  For a movie with a more traditional approach, perhaps even the most accessible approach of all Jarmusch films, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai is anything but conventional, and it’s the sense of pride it wears in its non-conventionality that makes it the cult classic it became.

3. The Dead Don't Die (2019) Not since Dead Man has Jim Jarmusch picked such a distinct genre for a film of his, or decided to include such a long list of high profile names in character roles.  While the sense of doom that usually comes with zombie movies is present, Jarmusch sticks to his toolkit by focusing solidly on the human element during the early portions of the film where many people would already have zombies doing the narrative and visual heavy lifting, and in turn, the audience finds themselves drawn deeper and deeper into the story well before the undead arrive.  Of all the Jarmusch films, The Dead Don’t Die has the rare designation of being the only one that seems to comment on film itself, be it references to iconic characters from other properties, ruminations on film as a format, or even discussions centered around film fandom.  While most films tend to stay around from outright explanations of whatever the root cause of the zombies are, The Dead Don’t Die uses the vacuum as a brief opportunity to make a comment on polar fracking and other climate/environment-altering processes.  Even the zombies get the most on-screen humanity received since the days of George Romero’s Dead series, a refreshing change of pace that has been often ignored in recent films centered around the undead.  Films like this one prove that Jim Jarmusch has the capacity to make films about most anything, and the further he strays from his supposed comfort zone, the seemingly better the films get.

2. Only Lovers Left Alive (2013) For a man so dedicated to being aware of the passage of time, a man with a deep appreciation for nostalgic cool of all eras, and a man with a rich and layered appreciation for art and music from across the board, it makes total sense that Only Lovers Left Alive would be a celebration of all these aspects framed as an eternal love with a deep cross-section between the original lovers and the tales of vampires.  The vampiric leads allow Jarmusch the perfect vehicle to seamlessly tie stellar creativity from any point in time with a singular line, and the deep implications of our protagonists' names suggest a subtextual lore that one could likely build a cinematic universe around.  For a venture with aspirations this lofty, the casting must fit the call, and the main four of Tilda Swinton, Tom Hiddleston, John Hurt and Jeffrey Wright build a solid foundational square for all characters to navigate deep emotions freely.  If you’re looking for Twilight and Interview with the Vampire fare, you’ll probably long for more, but if films like Let the Right One In are more your speed, then Only Lovers Left Alive will likely be a revelation.

1. Dead Man (1995) While Jim Jarmusch never lost his auteur sensibilities, Dead Man marked his initial foray into the world of larger scale traditional productions through the vehicle of the period piece.  Jarmusch films were not unfamiliar with showing us a broader view of the world we know, but transposing his trademark style into the world of the Western marked a bold (but ultimately rewarding) turn.  With Neil Young serving as his Ennio Morricone, Jarmusch dusted off his black and white filmmaking equipment and seemingly told the production design team to blend all of the best parts of Spaghetti Western and German Expressionism.  Johnny Depp, the film’s star, was riding the wave of success afforded from What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?, Benny & Joon and Ed Wood, and Dead Man carried that momentum right along.  As for his Western universe, the list of names that Jarmusch chose to populate it with is where his style stood out : Crispin Glover, John Hurt, Robert Mitchum, Iggy Pop, Gibby Haines, Gabrielle Byrne, Billy Bob Thornton, Alfred Molina and more drive home Depp’s “fish out of water” characterization convincingly.  Based on its period-piece designation, Dead Man signalled a drastic leap in style utilization for Jarmusch, a creative rarified air that he would return to for several future productions.

#ChiefDoomsday #doomonfilm #JimJarmusch #PermanentVacation #StrangerThanParadise #DownByLaw #MysteryTrain #NightOnEarth #DeadMan #GhostDogTheWayOfTheSamurai #CoffeeAndCigarettes #BrokenFlowers #TheLimitsOfControl #OnlyLoversLeftAlive #Paterson #TheDeadDon'tDie

[vipclifford]

Wildflower

Soulmate AU where things in your life appear as flowers tattooed on your skin, each with their own meaning. Inspired by this enjoltaire fic because it bangs and a little bit of skam s2.

Chapter One

Calum set his neatly wrapped gift for Michael upon the designated table deep into the living room, conveniently placed next to what was to become the drinks table. He turned around upon hearing a thud behind him only to find Luke watching the bottles roll away from his feet, hand still gripping the handles of a ruptured plastic bag.

“For fucks sake, Luke,” Calum chuckled as he strolled over, an amused smile on his lips. “What made you think that carrying ten litres worth of drinks in a plastic bag would be a good idea?”

“I didn’t think,” he confessed with a small laugh, his unbuttoned shirt showing the place where the green carnation met the bold amaryllis on his chest.

Luke had grown so much since the small carnation bloomed on his chest while watching ‘Romeo and Juliet’ in his english class, aged thirteen. He was confused when everyone began to whisper something he could clearly tell was about him when getting changed for PE. He was confused when someone yelled “Luke’s a faggot!” while pointing to where he felt a tingling sensation a few hours prior. He was confused until he looked down at his chest, realisation finally dawning on him. That same day a second flower appeared on his ribcage. A geranium, symbolising true friendship, as Calum defended him to the class. Calum’s ankle bloomed the same flower too. It took years before the proud amaryllis bloomed by its side, Luke finally ready to show the world his pride.

Calum carried the bottles to the table two by two while Luke unloaded the mixers from the other bag with angelica covered hands. Inspiration.

The birthday boy finally walked in with a wide grin, arms excitedly dropping over his two friends’ shoulders in an attempt to hug them simultaneously while they wished him a happy birthday.

“Thank you, and thanks for helping boys,” Michael told them cheerfully, breath exposing the celebratory shot he had already taken before the party had even started. “I think we ought to put half of these outside so it’s not too crowded in here, don’t you think?” He asked the pair, arm going over Luke’s head to clutch the vodka.

Michael’s forearm was covered from wrist to elbow in pale blue forget-me-nots, the soulmate flower that represented true love. He got it on that trip to Bali all those years ago when he met Charlotte and greeted her with a one armed hug, forget-me-nots blooming where his arm met her back. Luke’s left shoulder was also decorated by the same flower from when Adrián, his current boyfriend, tapped it to grab his attention, returning the wallet he had oh-so-conveniently left upon the table.

Calum didn’t have forget-me-nots.

“I think that your wish is my command, birthday boy,” Calum agreed, grabbing two bottles by the neck to take them outside. That’s where he found Ashton, lining the edge of every surface with LED lights.

Ashton couldn’t bloom. No friendly geraniums, no innocent daisies, no humble bluebells. No flower, no matter how deeply he felt any emotion, decorated his skin. He cried in Calum’s arms the day his soulmate bloomed the forget-me-nots under his touch. He cried because he thought he wouldn’t have a soulmate; cried because a part of him hoped that if any flower was powerful enough to etch his skin, it would be the one to represent the truest and deepest of loves. Tattoos of any flower were illegal so Ashton always hid the skin he was ashamed of beneath long-sleeved clothes. As much as Calum hated his flowers, he was glad he wasn’t like Ashton. He would hate to be an outcast.

“Who’s up for a duet?” yelled a voice where the karaoke machine was set up, a few hours into Michael’s birthday bash. Something deep within him compelled Calum to leave his beer in Luke’s hand and join in, taking a microphone from the stranger’s hand.

He had never seen anyone like her.

Flowers were etched into every bit of skin Calum’s eyes could reach. Chrysanthemums, lavenders, lilacs, bluebells and peonies, and that was only what he could see on the arm she had extended towards him. Joy, distrust, confidence, humility, shame. She lifted a brow at his looming gaze, equal parts accustomed and displeased, before hitting start.

There was a three second countdown before Calum sang the opening of ‘The Time Of My Life,’ encouraging the surrounding crowd to cheer. He smiled watching Michael pull Charlotte into his arms to dance with him. Smiled as everyone else paired off to sway to the music or sang along. Smiled at the girl when he faced her to harmonise in the chorus, eyes subconsciously dropping to the pink camellia on her collarbone. Longing and desire. She turned away with a frown to face the lyrics instead, away from Calum’s curious eyes. She refused to meet his eyes again until the song ended with the cheers from Michael’s friends.

“I’m sorry,” Calum said as he chased behind the girl, her eye on the drinks table. “I didn’t mean to offend you in any way, I’m really sorry.”

“You can’t be that sorry if you did it twice,” she replied with an air of false carelessness, grabbing an empty cup. He had to lean close to hear her, close enough to smell the sweetness of her perfume. She was quick to pull away before he accidentally grazed the colourful skin of her shoulder, refusing to let him into her personal space. “Here’s a quick tip: you’ve got a couple neurons and muscles to control where your eyes go, might wanna try using them sometime.” The malice in her voice struck deep into Calum’s marrow who was left there dumbfounded, watching her curls bounce as she walked away with a fresh rum and coke.

He didn’t see her again for the rest of the party.

Calum traced over the pink carnation on his wrist: the symbol of motherly love. Apparently he bloomed it at age two on a hot summer’s day at the pool. Being the mischievous toddler he was, he took advantage of his parents being distracted while looking for his snack to run off towards the big pool and hop into the water. His mother’s heart dropped once she noticed his little legs running away. He was only submerged for a few seconds before a nearby swimmer hoisted him up and out, the poor toddler crying from the shock. His mother told him off as she held the tearful boy to her chest, not letting Calum out of her arms once for the rest of their day out. A smile pulled at her lips when she noticed the flower later on in the evening, one of the first since the careless incident. She was happy that his first bloom was something he would be able to treasure for the rest of his life.

“Pass me the silver one,” ordered Michael, snapping Calum out of his thoughts. He nodded, pulling the requested tinsel from the cardboard box to give to his friend. It was the first week of december, a week closer to partying like crazy as the clock strikes twelve, and Calum found himself helping Michael decorate his christmas tree.

“Shouldn’t you be doing this with Charlotte?” Calum couldn’t help but ask as he untangled the blue tinsel, “just seems like a very coupley thing to do.”

“Are you insinuating that we’re not a couple?” teased his friend as he spun around the tree, strategically wrapping the silver tinsel around the leaves. “And no, because apparently I turned into a bossy little bitch last year and she doesn’t feel like dealing with that again.”

“And yet she still married you, bossy little bitch and all,” Calum commented as they chuckled.

“That’s what soulmates are for.”

Calum hummed, the topic of soulmates and love always being the one to silence him. It’s not that he didn’t believe in love, he saw it every day. He saw the love Michael felt for Charlotte when he teared up as she walked down the aisle. He saw the love Luke felt for Adrián whenever he’d surprise Luke with whatever flower he picked on his way to see him, ready to tuck it into his curls. He could see the love Ashton felt for Rosie when he couldn’t seem to let go of her hand, no matter where they were. Calum couldn’t deny the existence of love. What he could deny however was the existence of his own soulmate, someone who’s character complimented his own in every aspect. Someone who would be willing to deal with his ups and downs and love him every step of the way. The concept just seemed too unrealistic to the pessimistic man.

“Cheer up, you’ll find her,” Michael reassured him with a comforting squeeze to the shoulder, knowing exactly where his friend’s mind had run off. Calum offered him a tight-lipped smile as he placed the final bauble on a branch, stepping back to watch Michael place the star up top. The doorbell rang a few seconds later, eliciting a delighted cheer from the pair.

“I’ll get the pizza, try not to fall off of the stool while I’m gone,” Calum joked as he made his way towards the door.

That’s when he saw her.

The flowers that filled every inch of her arms were covered by a woollen jumper this time, but it was still her. She looked surprised too, not expecting him to be the one to receive her at the door. Her surprised expression only lasted a few seconds it morphed into a displeased demeanour.

“Are you going to let me in, or what?” she asked him coldly, clearly unamused by his presence. Calum muttered an apology under his breath as he moved out of the doorway, shutting the door once she was in Michael’s apartment. He shot his friend a confused look as he watched him engulf her in a hug.

“Rory didn’t have anything to do this evening so I just invited her to hang out with us. That’s fine with you, right?” Michael told Calum quietly when she had gone to grab them some beers from the kitchen, earning an approving hum from Calum. Unlike Rory, he didn’t have a grudge against her.

Something made Calum feel out of place as he sat with them on the sofa, silently eating his pizza as they made comments about the film he didn’t choose to watch. He’d occasionally hum in agreement with Michael’s opinions regarding the scene. He wasn’t expecting Rory, or anyone for that matter, to show up and spoil the time he wanted to spend with his friend. He hated feeling out of control of the situation. He hated feeling like an outsider.

“I looked for you, you know?” Calum muttered when Michael went to answer Charlotte’s call, knowing they’d have a good few minutes to themselves.

“You’re stalking me?” Rory questioned with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, giving him a quick glance.

“I meant at the party,” Calum explained, holding back a ‘dumbass’ while running a hand through his blonde locks. “I wanted to apologise to you again.”

“Look, Cam,” she said, turning to face the apologetic man. “I don’t need your apology. You saying sorry does literally nothing, so save it. Everyone else manages to stare at my shitty blooms without repenting. I doubt it’ll be hard for you to learn to do the same.” There was that malice again, the same poison she spoke with last time. Calum was taken aback by how coldly Rory treated him. He didn’t understand the reason behind her harsh words, nor why she wouldn’t just accept it and move on. At this point, he didn’t want to either.

“What’s wrong with you?” frustration forced Calum to ask, aggravated with her behaviour. “I know your blooms are personal and I know I shouldn’t have stared at them, but that doesn’t justify you acting like a bitch towards me. What happened that made you have such an inferiority complex that you just have to be rude to people who try to be nice to you to feel cool?” Calum spat, arms folding over his chest. “Were you never validated as a child, or what? Did mommy never compliment your drawings? Or did daddy never come to any of your ballet recitals? You were still wearing an A cup 8th grade and you were bullied for it?” He questioned replicating the tone she had used to talk to Cal. “Whatever it is, you have to seriously get over it and start behaving like a normal fucking person. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and grow up.”

Suddenly, Calum began to feel a tingling sensation on his hip, cutting off his furious speech. Rory watched in confusion as he lifted up his shirt to see his new bloom, horror painting his features as he realised what flower he will be tainted with forever. A petunia. Anger. Neither of them spoke as Calum slowly let go of the fabric, hoping to calm down as soon as possible. And then he left. Calum just stood up and walked out of the room, out of the apartment, out into the streets. He sat in his car, staring blankly at the steering wheel. Nobody wanted a bad bloom. And Calum now had two.

Calum’s phone buzzed in his pocket, probably Michael asking for an explanation for his sudden departure. But it wasn’t Michael. It was a message from an unknown number.

“I’m sorry.”

#5sos #calum hood #calum hood one shot #calum hood fic #5sos one shot #5sos fics #calum hood imagine #calum hood one shots #calum hood fics #calum hood imagines #5sos one shots #5sos fic #5sos blurb #5sos blurbs #calum hood blurb #calum hood blurbs

[art-now-india]

ETERNAL CIRCLE-GOLDEN FORTUNE TREE, Baljit Chadha

LEARNT BASICS OF ART IN JAPANFROM RENOUNED ARTIST MS OHTA MIYOKO.The Eternal Circle .Circle is an old symbol. The earliest humans looked up the sky and found the orb of fire giving them light and warmth. Sun for them was a mystical power, a god. They saw its movement from morning in the east and to the west in the evening. Next day again it came up in the sky. They regarded it as an omnipresent power that repeated its emergence with cyclical regularity. There was no beginning or end to the sun for them. It was the sun that allowed their imagination to look in the circular form endlessness, infinity. Thus quite early circle became a symbol of completeness, eternity and also rejuvenation. Circle also denoted the Nature. They found seasons changing and then again re-emerging with regularity. The seasons became the circle of Nature. In winter all greenery vanished and then when Spring came life stated flourishing once again. The great Mohenjo daro-Harrappan civilization had a script as yet un-deciphered. They often had a symbol of a circle with six spokes inset. What it represented is not known. From prehistory to history circle gained greater importance and came to symbolise the cycle of birth and death and also the soul�s eternity. In the rainbow spectrum of Indian philosophy, religion and culture, circle has been used as a varied symbol. The cycle of birth and rebirth is broken only through moksha. King Ashok propagated Buddha�s path to enlightenment through Dharm Chakra�a wheel with eight spokes of a chariot. I feel the wheel was invented with inspiration from sun or moon. Hindu philosophy talks about chakras. It is believed that there are seven chakras or source of light located within the subtle body. The Tantra cult uses the concept of chakras for awakening kundalini. The chakras were illustrated with images and this lead to the development of tantric art. Ajit Mukherjee in his seminal book The Art of Tantra helped to create in early sixties a movement of tantric art in India. But it did not last very long being bound by a strict and regulated expression as per dictates of Tantra iconography. Baljit Chadha is an artist with deep roots in Asian cultural traditions which includes India and especially Japan. Long years spent in Japan drew his creative interest to Japanese style painting. With great felicity he paints Nature and flowers. That is but only one aspect of his creative forays. Here I am concerned with his spiritual focus on the circle as a means of artistic expression. To paint with spiritual symbolism requires an inner search, equanimity, and a feel for the timeless. Paintings without this kind of attitude will not carry the dynamics of the spiritual; they will be like empty shells. Baljit paints with the inner dynamics. His present works are an effort to capture the metaphysical. His creativity unfolds through the circle in a kind of inner automatism. You have to understand his oeuvre in the context of his personal search for righteousness. I wish to bring to your notice the spiritual umbilical of his personal search. It is pertinent to know the Indian philosophy of life and Beyond. In Sikhism karma or kirat is seen as the vehicle to free us from the cycle of birth and death and to have mukti. One has to free oneself from pride, lust, anger, greed, self-centricity, maya and moh (attachment) and to devote life to sewa�service to mankind. Bhagavad Gita 2.27 also says, "One who has taken his birth is sure to die, and after death one is sure to take birth again. Therefore, in the unavoidable discharge of your duty, you should not lament." Thus cycle of life, death and rebirth are essential parts of thought process in India. Baljit�s paintings have varied moments of inspiration. In some works the circle is a serene quiet peaceful disc emitting soft tones and leading you to a feeling of inner joy. This you find in his work 2380. This work has a churning of the inner space and a rotation suggesting the cycle of the world or universe. The core of the painting appears to be a mystical kernel beyond human mind and intellect. In yet another work there are concentric circles and the core is a black bindu. Here the circles appear to symbolise the simultaneous working of different cycles of worldly activities and attachments. You get out of one circle and you are caught in another and so on ad infintum. (2486). You must notice the use of free moody lines that cross the circles and daubs of congealed colour. Baljit use this inner automatism where he does not seem to guide his hand or brush consciously. A lurking desire to be free of the material, bodily, intellectual and to allow the magic of anhad to take over is what I see in his use of these Zen like child�s scribbles. Baljit has used these idiosyncratic free floating lines in most of his works. These lines seem at times to �obstruct� your view of the pure circle. The eternal spiritual that the circle represents is often made hazy by our infatuation with the maya. At other times he uses tumbling interacting images in embellished gold reminding of the drama of life that has its own breathtaking charm. In yet another painting there is a linear window-like overlay through which you see the circle of the infinite. Here you become aware of the beauty of the spiritual that shines in cosmic blue colour (2376). Spiral is another important symbol that is our journey to a higher reality of being. Sometimes the luminescent circle has a spiral running over it�the desire to reach the ananata through our soaring spirit (2471, 2476). The subconscious doodles that are used sometimes have a rhythm that seems to evoke the universe and the movement of stellar constellations. Many painting have a centre or a kernel of the circle that seems to enter infinity and mystical Beyond. Observe that the centre of the circles is always full of light to make you think of the spiritual aura and awe of unknown. Baljit has his spiritual awakening in the world and in the flowers that he so lovingly paints. On an art related visit to Singapore I found the overflowing joy that he felt while visiting the botanical garden with different exotic flowers in bloom. This you see in the beautiful painting of an ethereal blooming blue flower. He paints the golden yellow stigma of the plant reminding you of the mystical centre in the circle. The flower opens with immense energy straight in your face, it mesmerizes you, holds you in its clasp and if you focus long on its centre you are drawn in it. In a different way his painting reminds me of Van Gogh�s intense sunflowers that emit a spiritual intensity. You find in the world what you want to see in it and not what it has. Baljit finds what he is looking for in the circular forms�be it a round flower, sun, or the eternal soul or the cycle of life death and rebirth or the planets and stars in the universe. Baljit looks at the eternal drama of the universe through his symbolic circle. I may here quote from a poem from the great Indian saint and poet Kabir that is also apt for Baljit�s art� I have known in my body the sport of the universe: I have escaped from the error of this world. The inward and the outward are become as one sky, the Infinite and the finite are united: I am drunken with the sight of this All! This Light of Thine fulfils the universe: the lamp of love that burns on the salver of knowledge. Kab�r says: "There error cannot enter, and the conflict of life and death is felt no more." Viktor Vijay KumarI LOVE PHOTOGRAPHY. I TAKEPHOTOGRAPHS OF FLOWERS AND CONVERT THEM IN TO MY PAINTINGS I have created a new technique called (FLOAT ON COLORS) .Using mix media on paper. I evolved a style of art that has minimal gap in feeling and expression. Rapidity and quickness of expression in my art comes from the well of inner spirituality. My art is not planned, thought-out and cerebral it is based on spontaneity. Abstract Expressionism is a wider term and my art follows it in variegated dimensions. My journey in art continued and I experiment with different painting instruments and techniques. My dependence on brushwork is rather limited. I frequently and freely use spatulas, wooden sticks, masking, and sand-mix, push bottles and what comes handy in the moment. I use acrylic with mix media. I have developed acrylic based glazes that were possible earlier only with oil paints. The glazes impart a charm similar to enamel glazes. My art journey finds depth and width in continuous experimentation, forays into the unknown and choosing challenging metaphors of expression. Where my art journey will take me next I leave to higher forces . I did an installation (Wall of Divine flowers) with 12000 painting on 12-12-12-12hrs-12mnts-12sec at Zorba in New Delhi and CREATED A WORLD RECORD The exhibition with the most paintings of flowers in the world www.baljit-chadha.artistwebsites.com http://www.youtube.com/edit?ns=1&video_id=fCTt1B51fJA http://www.1wra.org/index.php/Worldrecord/detail/id/1241 This certificate is given by WORLD RECORD ASSOCIATION donated entire collection to Smile Foundation New Delhi, for a girl child education. original colors may wary little from photographs

https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-ETERNAL-CIRCLE-GOLDEN-FORTUNE-TREE/392880/2499147/view

#baljitchadha #abstractexpressionism

[regrettablewritings]

Well I recently watched Trouble in the Heights, so let's go for Nevada Ramirez & Love, even if he perhaps has 1 bare inch of it in his whole body.

(I’m still fucking wheezing oh my gOD. Nevada Ramirez is 5′9″, and that ninth inch is composed completely out of the one inch of love he can actually express like a normal human being.) Similar to the Bruce Wayne one, though, some of these were sorta referenced in past Nevada pieces (what few there comparatively are). So, just in case, I included links to those pieces because they generally go into more detail in certain areas. Hope that’s all good!

Who said “I love you” first?: Well, you said it in that way first, so technically it was you. But if we just meant the actual soul of the phrase, of someone vocally expressing to another their love and interest in their well being, even without the exact words in place? It was Nevada. And even he didn’t necessarily notice it in the moment. Granted, even a sentence like, “Hey, don’t be stupid and just go straight home, understand me?” can slip Nevada’s notice as a sign of his own affection. He’s not nearly as in tune with his emotions as he’d like to think, really.

What are their primary love languages?: It’s really hard to place what a guy like Nevada’s love language could possibly be -- mainly because it’s hard to picture a guy like Nevada and a concept like love even inhabiting the same room. Being a gang leader and, well, just being Nevada Ramirez in total, he likes to give off the air that he doesn’t really necessarily need anybody — that everyone, from his underlings to even his past lovers are more or less side dressing he allows near him. But don’t be fooled: This little shit gets by on spoiling you and the affirmations he earns from them. The great thing about gifts is that in theory you could present them without needing to say much or even say anything at all. And given ‘Vada’s . . . less than delicate manner of speaking, this can be a good thing. And don’t get it twisted, he ain’t no sentimental pussy or nothing; he just sorta likes how your face glows when he just so happens to remember things like your favorite candy, or artist you mentioned wanting a framed piece by. He don’t need you to tell him he’s the best (he already knows he is), but it doesn’t hurt to hear you cry it as you practically fling yourself at him and smooch him silly. He also appreciates acts of service. Shady as his business is, it still demands a lot of the man. He won’t always express it completely but those nights when you show up at his place with his favorite takeout, or he comes home and finds the sheets have been cleaned or that you’ve done whatever he’d meant to have completed earlier that day? He almost wants to drag you to the edge of the bed and express his thanks to you. He appreciates it more than you would think.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?: Frequently, actually. There is hardly a moment wherein Nevada doesn’t have some part of him touching you: His hand resting on your hip or place in the back pocket of your jeans; your rump resting comfortably on his lap; his arm around you as you lean back in the VIP section of a club; or even just your legs over his own (or vice-versa) as you rest on the couch at home. Many would assume it’s just for show; that El Trujillo is simply asserting his dominance to all who might consider approaching you with sexual intent. They wouldn’t necessarily be wrong -- Nevada does intend to wordlessly yet loudly tell people that you belong to him. However, in addition to this, ‘Vada also just likes to show you off to everyone. And what better way to show the world his beautiful girl than to have her perched on his lap like a pretty bird on a branch?

What are their favorite things to do together?: To the surprise of no one, you two don’t have too, too much in common in terms of interest: Nevada, with his silver palate, enjoys eating out at restaurants with no less than four stars, and you enjoy going out to live shows, specifically on or even off-Broadway musicals. You don’t really care much for the strange food he likes, and he’s extremely particular about what sorts of show’s he’ll even bother with, but you do it for one another. But when it comes to what very few things you do enjoy in common, it ultimately gets narrowed down to two things: Cuddling on the couch and watching TV. Typically old shows or telanovelas because they’re both enjoyable and so terrible that neither of you can help but jeer at the bad acting, awful storylines, and cheesy sets and costumes. It’s a very strange bonding activity -- and certainly not one that anyone would associate with Nevada (and he wants to keep it that way). But it’s the one that you two enjoy the most after a long week, and a surefire way to help both parties relax and cheer up.

Who’s better at comforting the other?: Well, you’re one of the only one who can make him genuinely laugh if that says anything. Nevada isn’t an easy man to comfort, mostly because in his stubbornness, he’s become convinced that his power comes from his anger. So really, it should be sign enough that he even decided to go steady with you that he finds some sort of comfort in your presence (regardless of what he might tell you).

Who’s more protective?: Being a dealer of some infamy, Nevada is aware that he’s made more enemies than friends both in The Heights and out of them. As easy as it is to assume he doesn’t care too much about you, the reality is far from the truth: He cares deeply for you in his own Nevada way. When you go to one of his clubs, he’s never far away or not without you in his line of sight. There’s always a hand resting on your hip or your thigh, or he’ll, you’re always on his lap. Call it primal, but smart enough people who value their lives can take one look at ‘Vada’s hand resting on your ass and just know not to even bother with you. Slightly less smart may need to look at the man’s cold, murderous glower just for confirmation. And those with no sense of self-preservation have essentially signed their death warrant. But that’s in an environment he can control. Outside of his bars, his clubs, his restaurants where he’s a VIP? He’s a lot more quiet about it. Originally, he made sure you always had at least two Men-turned-bodyguards nearby you at all times, but you complained about how difficult it made everything from going to work to simply going shopping. “I don’t need your boys to know what types of tampons I use, Nevada!” you bristled. After much arguing, he eventually agreed to go another way about it: There’s actually more people with their eyes on you, often in disguise or paid off, but he’s made sure to put more distance on them so that you won’t feel as skeeved (or that you’ll even know they’re there for that matter). (For extra measure, if he can get you to agree to it, he’ll also have you equipped with a “Saturday Night Special” so to speak.) But be aware: The moment anyone so much as indicates even thinking about making you a target? That calm, cold demeanor rises to a simultaneously freezing yet infernal rage: You will be put on lock down or even ushered to a safe house until the threat can be dealt with. You will be escorted about the house at every moment by an armed man. And you will be kept safe until the threat has been literally disposed of.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?: Physical, because at least then he doesn’t have to say anything. Asshole behavior aside, Nevada knows damn well that he’s the absolute worst with words and that it honestly doesn’t take much to set you off. He figures that so long as he doesn’t have to actually say anything, he stands a better chance at not ticking you off and screwing himself over.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?: “The Wolf” by SIAMÉS. “Silvertongue” by Young the Giant. “Love Me Dead” by Ludo, if the roles were reversed . . . Nevada is just plain symbolic of something that’s bad for you but just feels so good to have. That in spite of how poisonous he actually is, he is capable of using just the right words and moves to have you addicted to him after just one drop. And in spite of everything he might insist or do, it works both ways: You’re both tragically and constantly craving the other, and it can wear you both out. But then again, that’s just what addiction is: Craving to the point of depletion. Though if you want something more optimistic, there’s also “Body Talks” by The Struts: Nevada doesn’t understand it himself but all he knows is that the very moment he laid eyes on you, he was going to do whatever it took to make you his — and, judging by your body language, you were perfectly happy to do that, so long as he worked for it. And let’s face it: El Trujillo ain’t afraid to get his hands dirty.

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?: The problem is that Nevada does have the ability to give nicknames, but he’s mostly crap at it unless there’s an ulterior motive involved. Like when he wants to keep you from being mad at him or to stop you from pouting, he’ll teasingly run a finger along your jawline and pout back a cooing “Cariño” or “Muñequita.” If he means to seduce and tease? You’re his “Good Girl.” If it’s more like he’s for once asking you to do a favor, he’ll give out a quick “Babe” or something of that nature. But if he’s just trying to apply a nickname for the sake of using one? Don’t trust him with that. Trusting him to pick a pet name based on a characteristic of yours, or in reference to an event is just not a good idea. His bluntness almost always causes him to pick the wrong thing to focus on! For example: If you have a green thumb and have taken to keeping a small windowsill garden or a corner for your plants, he’s not going to reference a goddess of greenery or even a flower or spice — he’s going to try calling you “Dirtworm” or something! (And then get frustrated when you express distaste over the name.) You’re honestly probably going to have to guide him to what sort of names you’ll tolerate and what you won’t, which shocks every and all witnesses who know anything about Nevada. A romantic interest? Telling Nevada what to do? It’s more likely than you think! Even though he’ll go along with it to pacify you, the hot-tempered man obviously can’t help but feel as thought you’re being unreasonably picky. After all, he’s more than satisfied with the nicknames you usually give him. Granted, they’re just the same nicknames he’s been going by for years now: El Trujillo, Jefe . . . He used to be called “Daddy” in the VIP sections of his haunts, but that title has since been reserved only for you. That, and ‘Vada. And “Baby Boy”, but only very, very sparingly. Which is still more than he’d let anybody else get away with.

Thank you for your patience!

#nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez x reader #trouble in the heights #Raul Esparza #regrettablewritings #character ship meme #character ship headcanons #y'all keep requesting this absolute assholes/men who just are the absolute WORST at expressing love #you guise...blease love yourselves... #like -- love yourselves better than these guys could #says the person who still writes for 'em #raúl esparza

[apocalypsewriters]

Joy Under the Stars

Summary: A super cute date between Nala and Fera, where they discover a surprising new aspect of Fera's powers.

The day had been fantastic. The plan had been to have a picnic in the park, but naturally, since it was a sapphic date, it didn't stop there. Fera had worn in her favorite dress - a featherweight white dress with delicate vine embroidery on the hem cinched with a red belt that matched her mushroom necklace. Nala's hair was tamed in a ponytail, tight ringlets spilling every direction. She wore a dark green flannel over a white t-shirt and black slacks. Luckily, they both had the foresight to pack the food into a cooler since they ended up talking about nothing and everything for an hour, before finally setting up and starting to eat. 

Nala was a reliable source of reassurance, used to her girlfriend's almost constant second-hand anxiety. They talked about Fera's garden, Nala listening intently and bringing up Fera's favorite flowers, warming her heart with her acute memory. In turn, they talked about the upcoming finals for Nala's team. Watching her girlfriend's eyes light up, Fera almost lost the sensation of passerby's stress. Almost. Nala's enthusiasm was infectious, evident in how Fera now followed her favorite teams and went to every single one of her girlfriend's games. But for now, she just enjoyed the fiery passion in Nala's intense chocolate eyes as she rested in her lap, Nala's fingers running absentmindedly through her hair. She sighed contentedly, picking at a curl, trying to dispel someone else's anger while remaining in the moment.

"Hey," Nala's voice was tender, a sharp contrast from her enthusiastic monologue moments before. "Are you okay?"

Fera found her concern touching. She reassured her, "'m fine. It's just the usual."

"Okay. Do you want me to get you a drink? Maybe a snack? It's getting late," Nala commented, glancing at the reddening sky.

"Only if you're hungry too," Fera insisted. "Do you want me to come with?"

She chuckled, "That's very sweet of you. Stay put. Try to relax. I'll be back before you know it." With that, Nala bent down and kissed her forehead making Fera squeak as her cheeks almost matched the sky. Gently moving her girlfriend's head to the picnic blanket, Nala jumped to her feet and stretched, before heading to the café they'd passed on the way over. Letting out another happy sigh and simultaneously trying to expel more of the second-hand negativity, Fera realized something. During the past few minutes watching Nala gush and listen to her own interests, she had barely felt any stress. Odd. Other than being completely isolated, she hadn't come that close to peace since before turning ten. Smiling fondly, Fera watched the sunset as she waited for her beloved to return.

The last of the sun's rays were peeking over the horizon as Nala returned with two hot drinks and a giant muffin. Fera attempted to work the creases from her brow; there was a lot of tension, anger, and melancholy from the 9 to 5 workers that passed through the park. She knew her girlfriend wouldn't mind, but it was always nicer to return to a smile, or at the very least, not a frown.

"Thank you, sprite!" She called, as Nala approached the edge of the blanket.

Nala handed the hot drink over with a peck, "Anything for you, cutie."

Fera took a sip of the drink. Rich chocolate surged over her tongue, not quite hot enough to skald her mouth. A puff of whipped cream escaped the small opening, its sweetness making her sigh in contentment. She broke a chunk off the muffin, revealing a cream-colored inside, punctuated by clusters of blueberries. Feeding it to Nala, she gave her a questioning look. "Any good?"

Nala nodded enthusiastically before swallowing, "Of course! I only get the best for you."

Fera blushed, barely registering the anxious presence that passed beside the pair as she ate her own piece of the muffin.

The sun continued to sink below the horizon, the darkening sky it left behind highlighting the moon that peeked above the treeline. The abandoned take away cups lay on the edge of the blanket with the muffin wrapper folded beneath them. Excusing herself momentarily from the conversation, Fera rummaged in the picnic basket and pulled out four paper lanterns, with electric tea lights to match. She placed them on the corners of the rug before lying down, grass prickling against her back as her phone lay as a last-minute security plan on her abdomen. Stretching out her arm, she feebly tugged at her girlfriend's shirt, whining softly. Nala let out a chuckle before falling backward to lie beside Fera and intertwining their hands between them. Smiling contentedly as the low ambient negativity from nearby apartments faded into nothing, Fera tucked her legs up, resting her bare feet on Nala's legs. Spotting a constellation, Fera eagerly pointed it out and started rambling about its discovery and meaning. She felt Nala's lips curl up as she lined up her face against her arm to see the stars Fera was talking about. In turn, Nala pointed out a constellation she recognized, resulting in Fera immediately explaining all the symbolism. The conversation quickly spiraled into one of zodiac signs, international sky views, and the deep expanse of space.

Nala propped herself up on her elbow, stars brightening her chocolatey eyes. Dimly, Fera wondered if her eyes looked similar. The moon was bright enough to cast shadows, she noticed, as miniature circles wiggled at the top of her girlfriend's brow. A giddy grin spread across her face as she grabbed the darker girl and pulled her in for a kiss. It was slow and sweet, and tasted vaguely of chocolate, distinctly like the truffles Nala had brought.

Fera relinquished her grasp first, falling against the blanket once more, Nala's hands cushioning her fall.

"Wow," Nala breathed. Fera giggled in return. A warmth had spread in her chest, different from what she'd felt before. Being so well versed in emotion, she knew her own joy. It was delicate, like wind chimes in a light breeze, or butterfly wings, and easily overshadowed by others’ negativity. But this, this was different. She knew her feelings towards the incredible girl above her. She smirked and sat up, pushing Nala down. The darker girl obliged, sinking as slowly as she could. With a self-satisfied sigh, Fera put her head on Nala's chest, imagining her girlfriend could feel her smile through her clothes as honey brown fingers ran through her curls. Her love for Nala felt like spring sunshine, bright and cheery, illuminating new buds of flowers aplenty. It felt like a refreshing breeze, blowing through flowy skirts and ruffling hair, cutting through the heat. What she felt now was different. Her love and joy were there, but there was more. It felt like smoldering embers, one breath away from becoming a roaring fire. It felt like a warm summer beach day, with waves roughly caressing the shore. Intuition leading her down a path, Fera decided to follow it. Moving slowly, gently, she kissed Nala's jaw, from her chin to below her ear. The fire ignited, the sun scorched. Fera's jaw dropped, her thoughts freezing in awe.

"Hey, sunshine?" Her question was quiet, still floored by the revelation.

Nala's voice was tender as she answered, "yes, Bee?"

"I think I get how much you love me," she wasn't sure why she kept whispering, but it felt right for the moment.

"Oh," Nala whispered back, "how so?"

"I feel," Fera struggled to find the words. "I feel your joy." She laughed giddily, the situation somehow becoming more real as she declared it. "I feel it here." She placed Nala's free hand on her heart. "Thank you."

"I hope you believe me now when I say I'd give the world to you," she could hear Nala's smile in the words. "I'm so happy for you. Though I do wonder, now you have both sides of the story, who loves who more?"

"Oh!" Her giggles died down as she tried to gain enough composure to respond. "I always believed you. But the way we love feels different. Though I might be compelled to say," she turned to rest her chin in the nook of Nala's neck. "That I love you more," she breathed.

Nala laughed heartily, sitting up and gathering the smaller girl in her lap. "And how do I know you're not lying?" She demanded playfully, gently poking Fera's stomach.

"Then I guess it's your turn to believe me," Fera replied cockily, half-heartedly pushing Nala's hand away.

"No, I don't think I will," Nala said contrarily. This time she leaned in to whisper into Fera's ear, her breath tickling, "I definitely love you most." Before she leaned away, she pulled gently at Fera's ear with her teeth, making her shriek. In protest, Fera awkwardly reached an arm down and scratched at Nala's foot, making her squirm in protest as she fruitlessly tried to stifle her laughter. A brutal tickle war broke out as the moon continued to glide across the sky, ending with the girls panting, lying down together once more, gazing into the other's starry eyes.

"I love you. Your happiness means the world to me."

#i have been on all of one(1) date before #and it was incredibly underwhelming #so this is based on stuff i read #so i hope its not too unrealistic #they're so freaking cute together #i would kill for them both #nala is Best Girlfriend #short story #fusion au #technically speaking #writeblr #writing #writers #my writing #original character #original characters #LGBTQIA+ community #gay #date #romance #i still don't know how to tag #probably because i do this on mobile

[rayless-reblogs]

the effect of The Caligula Effect

I just beat The Caligula Effect, a game I heard about years ago, but always understood to be a semi-bad Persona clone full of angsty-looking high school kids with superpowers. But I was eventually convinced to play The Caligula Effect: Overdose, an expanded rerelease that allows the gamer not only the opportunity to play alongside the Go-Home Club – a group of students who are searching for a way to escape the virtual utopia that entraps them – but also the chance to simultaneously join the Ostinato Musicians, another group of students who are determined to preserve the utopia and their idealized lives within it at all costs.

I'm a big fan of Persona, and this isn't the first clone I've played. Last year I tried out Falcom's Tokyo Xanadu. As far as I'm concerned, neither game approaches the quality of the latter three Personas, but in terms of visuals, gameplay, and story, Xanadu has Caligula pretty well beat.

I like Xanadu. But between the two, Caligula is the one I like more and care much more about.

Justifications below the cut. Also some extremely vague spoilers.

The Bad: The Caligula Effect has major shortcomings in many, many areas. For me, the battle system is clunky and bland (though if I raised the difficulty, I might find it more interesting). The character models are awkward. The environments are repetitive and the levels are too long. And as far as battles go, you are literally just fighting other students – no interesting monster designs anywhere. Those are a few points, but there are definitely more flaws that could be gone into.

But if you've followed me for a while, you know that the games that end up grabbing my attention aren't necessarily the most deserving. So here's what I like:

The 2D art is lovely. The characters have changeable portraits based on their emotions, as per Persona, but the menu features two full-length portraits for each character, Go-Home and Musicians alike. The elegant, silvery art style is gorgeous, and it's a shame it wasn't used more prominently and creatively, rather than the awkward 3D models. The main visual motif is flowers, and to that end each Go-Home member has unique (and highly symbolic) flowers associated with them. When they access their superpowers, each of them is shown with a stake driven through their heart, surrounded by their flowers – a striking and unusual effect. The desaturated colors in the characters' designs make their flowers stand out all the brighter.

And definitely check out each character's status screen because their portraits hint towards their true personalities.

Speaking of which –

Caligula mimics Persona's Social Link system (it doesn't use the term Social Link, but that's what I'll use here), allowing you to grow closer to your teammates on both sides of the ideological conflict. Not all of the Social Links are written equally well – some are more interesting than others – but a number of them are intertwined (even across both teams in the Overdose release) and become very engrossing as you try to figure out how events fit together. And who these people you're working alongside really are.

Like Persona, several of your teammates are motivated by personal trauma. As great as Persona 3 is, it can start to feel ludicrous how many of its characters have dead parents. (In fairness, their traumas aren't just that they have dead parents – but most of them have at least one dead parent and it gets old.) In Caligula, the traumas feel varied and more unexpected, touching on subjects I haven't often seen in JRPGs. For example, I guessed Mifue's trauma fairly early on, but was surprised at how seriously it was eventually depicted. I thought I figured out Ayana's quite quickly, only to have my theory pulled out from under me. Izuru's Social Link ended up shocking me at one point, then made me more thoughtful as I listened to him analyze himself. I've heard Kotono's arc wasn't universally liked in Japan, but I was really happy to see her specific backstory handled, even if it made her more complicated than a typical pretty girl in a high school game. And when it came to Shogo's, I immediately started to downplay the seriousness of his past – only to be proven quite wrong.

And it's not just the heavy stuff. Going through characters' Social Links (and talking to them on the game's texting feature) often changed how I felt about them. When I first met Suzuna, I was instantly fed up with her timid personality and thought I was going to hate her. She ended up being one of my favorites, the change not so much due to big story events but because of small details about her personality. I disliked Ayana and Naruko early on, but softened as I got to know them. This is especially noticeable with the Musicians. If you only encounter them as the Go-Home Club, they'll be rather flat, easily dismissed antagonists. Getting to know them on their own turf reveals characters who are often as fleshed out and interesting as the main cast. And again I was surprised at who I ended up really liking, like Sweet-P and Shonen-Doll.

Another, more subtle, thing I enjoyed – in different Persona games, a number of your teammates are very cool people. Eriko's mysterious and interested in the occult, Mitsuru's this unattainable school celebrity, Akihiko's a star boxer, Ann's a professional model, Yusuke's an artistic prodigy, Rise's a literal teen idol. There are certainly talented people among your teammates in The Caligula Effect, but for the most part, you're all nerds and losers. And that goes for the villains as well. Most of the characters aren't that socially impressive, either because of their personalities or they have very powerful reasons for turning away from the mainstream. And while many of them grow and change, they're not really wish-fulfillment characters.

One last thing I want to touch on – this virtual utopia our characters are struggling in is rather deceptive. Everyone within it takes on the role of a high schooler, but this doesn't always reflect who they are in reality, adding another layer of interest for me. Without going into specifics (because one of the most fun things for me was trying to figure out who people really were), a (vague) number of these characters are adults, not teenagers. And many of them are motivated by very adult concerns, such as dissatisfaction with their professions and questioning their positions in their adult lives. One of the main tensions of the game is whether it's better to direct yourself as an adult in the often-disappointing real world or whether it's better to remain a child free from responsibility in the virtual world. Despite all the game's high school trappings and tropes, I found myself wondering who the intended audience really was.

Caligula's main story is pretty flat and basic, much less sophisticated than the plots of the Personas or Tokyo Xanadu. But because of the characters and the multitude of B-Plots you go through with them, the game still has a compelling, and even adult, quality.

It's not a great game. I can't stress that enough. The first handful of hours are terrible. I think one reason I'm so into it is that I entered the game with very low expectations. But its characters have a lot to offer, and for me that ended up being the heart of the game. So I liked it.

#the caligula effect #lucid #suzuna kagura #(being the pictured characters) #meta #rayless reviews #i'm not going to do game reviews as a regular thing #but i had a lot of thoughts after beating this game #and may post a few more thoughts in the future #persona #tokyo xanadu #mine

[thdorkmagnet]

The Snuggly Duckling (Star is Rapunzel AU part 3)

Summary: A series of one-shots and multi-chapters proving why Star Butterfly should be considered a Disney Princess, as Star and company take over the roles of all your favorite Disney Princess characters! (Starco inevitable)

Check out my other stuff on Fanfiction! 

Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters are owned by Daron Nefcy and Disney. Tangled belongs to Disney. All rights go to their respective owners.

Part 1, Part 2

Marco was beginning to regret agreeing to Star's deal. After spending close to three hours in the forest trying to keep Star from accidentally injuring himself on the many, many things that caught her eye, Marco was sore and tired and just done with everything for the day. He had been stung by at least three bees, had nearly drowned in a nearby stream after Star slipped and fell in leaving him to rescue her, and been covered in hundreds of tiny needles when he had fallen into a thorn bush trying to help Star get her long, flowing hair out of the tree it got tangled in. So to say Marco was having a bad day would be an understatement, he was having one of the worst days of his life.

Star, however, seemed to be having the best day ever as she recklessly threw herself at whatever strange and unknown thing caught her eye. All with a bright smile on her face which made Marco's terrible day a little bit more bearable. Then again, every so often she would stop in the middle of her dangerous frolicking to panic over her mom finding out she was gone, worrying what she would say and how she would react to her daughter leaving without permission. Marco didn't have the whole story but he was beginning to put the pieces together. It seemed Star had an overbearing and controlling mother who seemed to think the outside world was too dangerous for the blond, hence why she had never left. Not only that but apparently Star had snuck out without permission in order to go see the floating lights, which had her battling over her wants and her guilt.

To be honest, it really upset him to see her that way. She was too sweet and innocent to be... wait, what was he thinking?! He had known her for less than a day, the beginning of which he had been her captive. So why would her emotions being effecting him in this way? Why did he care at all? And why did he continually blush every time he was near her for that matter? Ugh, maybe Star wasn't the only one who was at war with herself.

And so it was probably because of this, as he watched her bawl her eyes out of nowhere for (what was this now?) the fifth time in an hour, he stood there awkwardly, trying to decide what he should do. The girl sniffed trying to wipe the tears out of her eyes and looking so lost and guilty that the boy could take no more, walking over to her, determined to cheer her up.

He reached out a hand to put on her shoulder but quickly retracted it, thinking better of it. “Um, hey,” he said nervously and Star turned to look at him in surprise and the young thief felt his throat close up with her attention now on him. He coughed into his hand, rubbing the back of his neck with the other. “Are you... doing okay?” He finally managed to get out and nearly slapped himself for saying something so stupid. Of course she wasn't, she was crying!

But the blond didn't seem to take offense as she simply muttered, “Yeah, I guess.” Her face somehow fell even more and he once again pushed himself to say something to help her. “Well I don't know the whole story but if you want me to take you back I can,” he said, giving a wide smile.

But the girl's eyes only grew wide and she suddenly grabbed him by the front of his jacket, making him squeak in surprise and blush bright red. “No way!” she shouted in concern. “I-I can't go home, not till I see the floating lights!”

“Okay, okay,” Marco said quickly, raising his hands in an innocent gesture. “We'll go see the floating lights!”

Star breathed a sigh of relief, finally releasing him from her grip. Marco quickly straightened out his clothes as he added scoldingly, “But if we're gonna keep traveling together, then you need to be more careful. I know this is your first time out but that doesn't mean you can just keep running head first into danger.”

Marco looked up to see he was now alone, the girl already breaking his rule before she even heard it, her long hair being dragged off in the direction she had gone. “Like that,” Marco groaned tiredly, running a hand slowly down his face. He turned to see Janna on his shoulder and he asked, “Is she always like this?”

Janna nodded knowingly.

Suddenly they heard her call to them from a distance, “Come on, guys! I think I just found us a place to eat.”

Both Marco and Janna released a simultaneous sigh, before the boy muttered, “Come on, we better make sure she doesn't hurt herself.” He then trudged after his blond companion with the small bat perched on his shoulder, following the path of hair that dragged behind wherever Star went.

…

Eclipsa hummed a little tune as she walked, enjoying the sunlight and the cool breeze that ruffled through the trees, trying not to think about her Flower that she had left back in the tower, alone. When she had first brought Star home to live with her, she had never left her side, only going out for supplies when absolutely necessary. She was terrified that if she left Star alone that she would be stolen away, despite the precautions she had taken to keep her safe and hidden from any prying eyes. But then her original flower had been the same way, but a grave oversight had caused her to nearly lose her life source. The moment it was taken, Eclipsa had been in a panic and had been desperate to get it back, so desperate that she was willing to take the young princess that inherited it's powers.

For a while, the fear of losing her source of eternal youth had caused her to be overprotective not allowing her new daughter outside for any reason, despite Star's beggings. Now though, she would be lying if she said she was only protecting Star because of her powers. Over the years her selfish intentions to horde the girl's power for herself had turned into a familiar warmth that she couldn't quite displace. She cared about Star to a degree but lately she had been growing frustrated with her constant longing toward the outside world. Did she really not appreciate what she had done for her? Was living in a tower, safe from danger and protected from anyone who might do her harm, such a bad thing?

It frightened Eclipsa more than a little to know that Star seemed to know about some connection she had to her past, at least on some kind of subconscious level. What if she discovered the truth of what she had done? The woman shook her head, clearing herself of such nonsense thoughts. That was impossible. Still, she couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was wrong with her daughter. Something about the way she acted was very suspicious to Eclipsa but she couldn't quite figure out what or why.

Suddenly there was a shuffling from the bushes up ahead and she instantly went on high alert as she slowly approached it, staring at the area with fervent attention. She wasn't scared by whatever could be lurking in the woods, since they were completely free of any sort of wild beast or dangerous animal, but rather she was concerned that it could possibly be an outsider in which case she needed to keep them as far away from Star as possible... by whatever means necessary. She reached for the small dagger she always kept tucked out of sight in her belt, just in case. She hadn't gotten very far on her journey so far, she was still in close enough distance to the tower that there was a slim possibility they could find it and she wasn't taking that chance.

She reached out a hand and as silently and swiftly as she could, parted the bush to see what was lurking behind them. But she only stared at shock at the sight of a tall sleek horse, looking at its reflection in a small pond of water, taking bizarre poses as it seemed quite impressed with itself and one of her eyebrows shot up. Definitely not what she was expecting but then again, it could have been worse.

That was when she noticed that the horse was wearing a saddle and decked out in the familiar gold pattern that the nearby kingdom of Corona was so fond of, the sun symbol showcased several times by the horse's self-admiring display and Eclipsa's eyes widened. This wasn't just a stray, it was a palace horse... one that was missing its rider. Star.

Eclispsa was racing back to the tower in a flash, already breathing heavily as she tried not to think of every terrible scenario as she fought her way through the suddenly unforgiving vegetation and back to her only source of life and youth. What if she was taken? What if she was dead? If something had happened to her, what would Eclipsa do? She would be dead in probably a day or two and that wasn't an option. She had given up too much to lose her immortality now.

Finally, finally, she made it back to the familiar cave that hid her daughter from the rest of the world, only now its true level of safety was unknown, as it had quite possibly failed to do its job. She reached the base of the tower, trying to hide how frantic and out of breath she was as she called up in the sweetest tone she could, “Star, let down your hair!”

There was a pause that seemed to last the ancient woman a lifetime, but there was no response from above. “Star! Let down your hair, please!” she tried again, this time her fear showing through some.

Still no answer. “Sweetie? Sweetie can you hear me?!” she practically screamed up to the tower and when she received no response again, she could wait no longer. She quickly ran to the side of the tower and began tearing brick and stone aside as the loose construction she had built there long ago was pulled free, revealing the hidden entrance up the tower. She had used this often when Star was a child but once she had gotten old enough to preform the task of hauling her mom up the side, Eclipsa had opted for that, hiding the secret entrance in case of an emergency. Like right now.

The woman climbed up to the top, throwing the trapdoor open as she looked around the dark tower with terror. She did a quick search, screaming Star's name as she checked over every inch of the area: throwing curtains aside so roughly they almost fell off their pole, flipping the sheets off of both her and Star's bed, actually breaking the door on the closet as she slammed it open with such a strong force the door snapped off and fell to the floor. Still nothing.

Star was gone.

Eclipsa's breathing had grown sporadic, shifting between being short and shallow to long and strenuous as she clutched the sides of her head in pure fear and dread, worse than when her original flower had been taken. Because now, she had no idea where Star was. Star was gone. She was going to die. She had no clues, nothing to go off of, no way of even knowing where Star could possibly be. Had Star run away? Had she been taken? Was she in danger and now being used by someone else who knew of what power she held? No, that couldn't be, she had taken precautions, but... she had done the same with the tower and look what that had gotten her.

The woman collapsed to her knees, too distraught and overcome by grief to stand, tears falling freely from her eyes. Star was gone, she was really truly gone. She had failed, failed to protect what mattered to her the most. She should have never left her, she shouldn't have taken her eyes off of Star for a minute, but she had and now... now she had lost her source of life and it was all over for her. Her head slowly sank toward the ground, until a bright light was cast right in her eye and she cried out in pain and surprise. She looked over at the source, seeing a gleam of something underneath one of the floorboards of the stairs. She slowly rose to her feet and walked over to it, her eyes never leaving the glittering object hidden underneath the worn wood. She bent down and pried the board loose, which came off rather easily, too easily in fact, and she looked inside to see what was some sort of make-shift hiding place. And there sat in the center of it was a satchel, a glittering object half-way hidden within.

She lifted up the bag, reaching a hand in to pull out whatever was inside, but the moment she took in the sight of the crown she gasped and dropped the object in shock, the regal headpiece hitting the ground with an echoing clang. Eclipsa just stared down at the crown she had thought and hoped she would never see again, a million worries and questions flowing around her head as she tried to make sense of it all. But thinking quickly she began searching the satchel more thoroughly, looking anywhere and everywhere for some kind of clue of who had done this to her, of who had brought old memories back into her home and taken away her precious Flower.

She was close to giving up when she spotted a small marking underneath the bag, etched into the fabric and she brought it closer to her face, reading it carefully, “Property of Marco Diaz”. The woman's eyes narrowed as she recognized the name of the wanted thief that had been the source of many discussions around the kingdom. And now he had something to do with her daughter's disappearance.

She quickly grabbed the knife off her belt, her hand clenching it so tightly, her knuckles went white, as she began devising a plan to find and get her Flower back. First things first, she needed more information on this Diaz boy and she would start at the most likely place to get the answers she needed...

…

Star was squealing as she stood before the large wooden establishment in the very heart of the woods. She could smell a delicious aroma wafting through the air and decided that this place was a restaurant of some kind. Pleasant music could be heard within, a lively banter that was sure to get even the most tone-deaf person tapping their foot in rhythm. Everything about the place (from the outside at least) seemed warm and inviting and Star was tempted to run in there without Marco, but she figured waiting for him would probably be the right thing to do. Still if he didn't get there soon her patience just might beat out her common courtesy.

But luckily that wasn't the case, as the sound of rattling bushes drew her attention to behind her, where her guide emerged covered head to toe in leaves from the girl's 'brilliant' shortcut. “Oh good, you made it!” she said, clapping her hands together excitedly.

Marco just stared at the building skeptically, an eyebrow slowly raising as he asked, “Star, what is this place?”  

“Ohh just found a place for us to eat... all on my own,” she said, trying to look and act modest but was clearly boasting her accomplishment which made Marco roll his eyes.

“Righhhtt, well I'm not so sure about this place, Star,” the young thief admitted, continuing to eye the place suspiciously.

“What why?” Star asked defensively.

“Well first of all, it was built suspiciously in the middle of nowhere,” Marco pointed out.

“So was my tower,” the blond girl argued.

“Yeah, I know,” Marco replied, hands to his hips. “Which is exactly why I don't trust it.”

“Aw, come on, Marco,” Star pressed, elbowing the boy in the side. “Don't worry so much.”

“Hey, worrying is what keeps me alive.”

“Yeah, but look at this place, it looks super safe,” the girl continued, sweeping an arm out to showcase the establishment, stopping on a sign outside the restaurant. “I mean, it's called 'The Snuggly Duckling', how bad can it honestly be?”

“Other than the fact that somebody in there might recognize my face and turn me in,” Marco dead-panned. But his voice regained some life to it as he insisted, “Look Star, I have a bad feeling about his place, I don't think going in is a good idea.”

“Well let's put it to a vote,” Star said authoritatively.

“Vote? But there's only two of us.”

“Nuh uh, don't forget about Janna,” the blond said, pointing to the bat still perched on Marco's shoulder who was now him an angry glare for forgetting about her. “Oh right, Janna, don't want to forget about her,” Marco said nervously, his eyes begging her to agree with him.

The blond cleared her throat before saying, “All in favor of not going inside this awesome and totally safe place I found and instead going hungry for the rest of the day, raise your hand.”

Nobody made any move Marco just grumbling, “Oh come on, this is totally ridiculous.”

“I said raise your hand!” the girl shouted at the top of her lungs, stunning the boy and causing his hand to shoot up.

“There, that's better,” Star said, all smiles once more. “Now all in favor of ignoring Marco and going inside this totally cool looking place, raise your hand.”

Her and Janna raised their hands and Marco sighed, putting a hand to his face, before trying one last desperate attempt to change their minds, “Or maybe we could just not eat anything right now, I mean, come on how hungry are we really?” He chuckled nervously, before a loud rumbling from his belly sounded, lighting his cheeks up red and causing Star and Janna to stare, the bat with a smirk on her fluffy face.

“See even your belly agrees with me,” Star said, turning on her heels and starting up the short path to the door, almost skipping her way there. Janna abandoned his shoulder to follow after her and Marco shouted desperately, “Star!” but Star was ignoring him now as she continued on unopposed. The boy groaned still having a bad feeling in his gut but could do nothing about it now. He looked down to his stomach and growled in frustration, “Traitor.” His gaze returned to the girl, now halfway there at this point.

His protective side started to take hold, making him want to rush after her but he was hesitant still wanting to try and talk her out of it if he could. But then the tasty smells in the air reached his nose, making his mouth water and setting his empty belly off once more. He hadn't eaten anything all day and the effect of his hunger was starting to get the better of him. So he swallowed down the uncomfortable feeling and raced after the girl and her pet, catching up to them quickly and now begrudgingly by her side once more, pulling up his hood to try and hide his face as best he could.

The blond grinned, glad to see her friend had changed his mind and decided to join her. Wait, was he her friend yet? They hadn't known each other for very long but she already felt comfortable around him and could easily refer to him as a friend, even if she wasn't sure how he felt on the subject. She was definitely beginning to feel that way, though.

Regardless, it still felt nice knowing he was there and would be a part of whatever memories she made inside, everything feeling so much better with him around, and Star smiled to let him know just that. But the young man was still too busy looking around nervously.

“Marco relax, nobody is going to recognize you,” Star told him.

“Yeah well, if I get arrested it's on you.” Marco groaned unhappily.

“Look Marco, I may not have been outside before, but I got instincts too,” the long-haired girl stated, pointing to herself. Marco opening the door for her to step inside. “And mine are saying that we have nothing to worry aboooo-”

Star's voice slowly drifted off as she took in the interior of the restaurant. While on the outside the place had looked warm, cozy and inviting, the inside was dark, scary and uncomfortable. Lamps hung from posts with jagged, rusted metal protruding out of it, looking like an instant health hazard, and the gentle swinging of the lights only somehow cast more shadows into the room if that was possible. Weapons of all shapes and sizes covered almost every surface sticking out of walls, floors, tables, counters, everything and where there weren't weapons, the thousands upon thousands of scrapes and holes on every wooden surface were signs that they had at one point. Near the corner what looked to be the remains of a smashed table, thrown to the side along with several wooden barrels, no doubt containing questionable contraband.

And that was just the decorations, the people looked just as terrifying as the layout of the place, every resident of the bar some sort of large Monster, all looking muscled and toned and ready to rip the nearest person to shreds. Some had scars on their bodies or were carrying a weapon of some kind and the look in their eye, as they turned to see the two unknowing teens entering, was one that could make your skin crawl. There was murder behind every pair of eyes she saw and Star felt her body nearly freeze up right there in fear. These were ruffians and thugs if she ever saw any and the girl silently regretted not heeding her mother's or Marco's words more closely and instead rushing head first into this situation.

She held her frying pan out as a threat to ward anyone off who even thought about coming near her and quickly gathered up her hair into her free arm in fear of it getting it cut. She also felt Janna duck securely into her hair to hide. “I told you this was a bad idea,” she heard a very frightened Marco whisper into her ear.

“Okay fine maybe you were right,” she whispered back not letting her eyes cease their constant roam around the room for even a second. “This was a bad idea.”

“Don't worry, I'll handle it,” Marco reassured her quietly, before raising his voice as he addressed the room, “Uh sorry to interrupt you all, me and my friend seemed to have wandered into here by mistake, so we'll just be leaving you now.” He put an arm on Star's shoulder and began to lead her back the short few steps they had come. But then he heard the door slam shut behind them and he and Star both swerved on their feet to see a young man, looking close to their age with pink hair and horns, pale purplish skin and a feisty look in his three eyes blocking off their path to freedom. “Not so fast,” the boy said in a hard tone. He took a step forward, now face to face with a sweating Marco, their faces only inches apart as his red eyes narrowed. “You look... familiar.”

“W-What, no, no I don't,” the boy in red stuttered awkwardly.

“No, I've definitely seen you somewhere before,” the young ruffian continued, tapping a finger to his chin in thought.

“Well, I have no idea where that would be,” Marco said, trying to put an innocent smile on his face, but it came out as more of a grimace.

“Yeah he says he doesn't know so leave him alone,” Star quickly jumped in to his defense.

“You better tell your girlfriend not to talk to me like that,” the pink-haired teen said.

“Oh no, she's not my girlfriend,” Marco quickly said, a little too quickly and he felt his cheeks turn pink.

Suddenly, he felt a large hand grab the back of his hood and rip it down, making him squeak in surprise and fumbled to pull it back up again. He mentally chastised himself for not paying closer attention to what was happening behind him and instead getting distracted by the other boy's accusation toward him. Marco failed to regain his hood, whoever had grabbed it, refusing to release his hold and instead staring down at him intensely, making his skin burn.

“Hey yeah, I think your right Tom, I've seen him before too,” the lobster like monster said, his voice high-pitched and his eyes beady and unfocused. His sharp claw was what held his hood in its vice-like grip and Marco knew the struggle for freedom was futile at this point.

“Hey stop, leave him alone!” Star screamed, seeing her friend in peril and quickly rushing to his rescue, slamming her frying pan into the Monster's claws without thinking. “Ouch!” the lobster screamed, letting go of the boy and rubbing his now aching claw with a hurt look. “What'd you do that for?”

Star had grabbed Marco's arm and yanked him to her side in a second and she looked over at the Monster with an angry glare. “Well you were the one who just grabbed Marco out of nowhere, not cool!” Star shouted, pointing her frying pan at the Monster accusingly.

Marco just groaned and face-palmed. “Starrrr,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” the girl asked, before her eyes widened in realization at her slip up. “Ohhhh.”

“Marco,” Tom said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “As in Diaz.”

“Uhhh, no,” the boy tried weakly.

“Oh yeah, I've seen his wanted posters all over the place, he's worth a lot of cash,” one of the other Monsters, this one a large bear creature with a horn on the top of its head, said.

“Is that true?” Star asked her companion and Marco whispered over his shoulder, “Maybe just a... little bit.”

“Meat Fork,” Tom said. “Go get the knights and bring 'em here.” The warthog Monster saluted before obeying, exiting the building quickly.

“Oh no, that's not necessary,” Marco assured them, him and Star now standing back to back with each other as they were surrounded by the greedy Monsters. The two grimaced and Star held her pan out in warning, while Marco just did his best to try and sway the Monster's decision in the slightest. “I'm sure if we all just keep calm and talk about this we can form some sort of compromise.”

Tom scoffed. “The only compromise we care about is the one where you let us turn you in and collect the reward.”

“Oh great,” Marco sighed in defeat.

Star looked around at the Monster's fearfully before pleading, “Come on guys, please don't do this. All I want is to go see the floating lights and I need Marco to take me there because I've never been outside before and I've been dreaming of seeing them my whole life! Can't you guys at least try and understand?!” Star was practically screaming at this point and everyone, Marco included, could only stare dumbfounded at the blond's outburst.

“Uhh, yeah I guess so, but we still need the money,” Tom said, finally breaking the silence.

The others all nodded and grumbled their agreement before advancing on the two teens once more. Star and Marco gasped, the boy raising his arms, ready for a fight and the girl raising her weapon over her head, preparing to strike. “Okay, fine then, bring it on!” the girl screamed in a blood-thristy tone. “I'll fight you guys off if it means seeing the floating lights!”

“Wait stop!!” a voice yelled from the crowd and everyone froze, all turning to see a muscular frog Monster, staring at the two teens in concern.

“Buff Frog what is it?” Tom asked.

“These two teens just like us,” he said, looking between his fellow criminals and saying, “They have dream, same as we do.”

Tom just rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Buff Frog sit back down, your just embarrassing yourself,” the boy said sarcastically. He looked over to the still frightened Marco saying, “Sorry about this, ever since he had kids he's been all sentimental and junk.”

“Aww that's so sweet,” Star cooed, to which Marco immediately shushed her, not wanting to draw more attention on themselves than they already had.

“I will not sit down,” the frog argued, keeping a strong and proud stance as he continued. “Not when I see something very wrong happening.”

“We're murderers Buff Frog, don't you think it's a little late for that?” Tom pointed out in exasperation.

“Yeah, are we seriously gonna listen to this guy?” a new voice spoke up, his voice high-pitched as a small bird Monster emerged from the crowd, violently pushing his way through before hopping onto a nearby barstool so he came up to about half the height of the amphibian. “I mean, why shouldn't we just take what is rightfully ours?”

“Because Ludo,” Buff Frog argued. “I have dream once and know for fact you all had one as well.”

The other Monsters shared a look with one another before nodding and grumbling their agreement. Buff Frog turned to Tom, who was still standing stonily and unmoved by the Monster's speech. “And we all know how badly you wish to be world famous singer like favorite boy band.”

Tom flushed, clenching his teeth in anger. “You have no proof of that.” He then turned to the small kappa Monster, who was pouting from his position on the barstool. “And you, Ludo, wish to be big and muscular so that you get lots of ladies.”

“That is not true!” Ludo screamed in outrage. “I also want people to look up to me!”

Buff Frog then preceded to pull out a large ax out of nowhere and flung it toward a corner, where the trapped musician Ruberiot sat on a small stool, his ankle chained to keep him trapped there. The ax hit just above his head, cutting the feather on his hat in half and he shakily began to play a janky tune on the accordion in his hands.

“What's going on?” Star asked her guide in confusion.

“I... think he's about to sing,” Marco explained, equally as stunned as his friend.

Tom next to them sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Here we go again,” he mumbled with a roll of all three of his eyes.

“I malicious mean and scary,” Buff Frog began, storming closer to Star and Marco who took an immediate step back, fear written all over their faces. “Sneer could curdle dairy. Violence wise my hands not cleanist.” He looked down to the two's feet who followed his gaze and spotted the white outline of what was once a body and they jumped back in alarm, letting out a small gasp of surprise.

“But despite things I took and intimidating look...” The frog hopped up onto a stage, where a spotlight suddenly shined on him out of nowhere. “Always yearned to be concert pianist.”

“What?” both teens said incredulously, while next to them Tom just face-palmed. “Yep, this is happening,” he grumbled to himself.

“Can't you see me on stage performing Mozart?” Buff Frog continued, now playing from a large piano, his webbed fingers moving surprisingly delicately against the keys, the lively upbeat tune actually pretty catchy. “Tickling ivies till they gleam!”

“What does that even mean?” Star asked her friend with a raised eyebrow, who shrugged.

“No clue,” he replied.

“Yes rather be called deadly for killer showtune medley,” Buff Frog sang, his hand sweeping across piano, hitting every note on the way, going so fast in fact that it sent some of them flying out toward the crowd, Star holding her pan up to block a few, while one nailed Ludo in the eye, making him wail in pain. “For way down deep inside got a dream!”

Tom just scoffed. “Oh please, like anybody is buying this.”

“He's got a dream! He's got a dream!” several of the Monster in the back sang, bouncing up and down to the rhythm much to Tom's shock, who hid his face in his hands to hide his embarrassment for his cohorts.

“See ain't as cruel and viscous as I seem,” the frog continued, smiling wildly now, as he winked over to the two teens, who both chuckled at the unexpected action. “While I do like breaking femurs, count me with dreamers, cause way down deep inside I got a dream!”

The amphibian continued to play his tune, the sweet song drifting easily through the crowd of Monsters who all were now getting into the song, humming along with the tune.

“Well this is certainty... strange,” Marco said, looking genuinely unsure how to feel about the sudden song number that had just broken out.

“Well at least they aren't killing us,” Star pointed out. “Maybe we should just relax and try and enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Marco agreed, not really seeing any other way around it. But suddenly the two were grabbed from behind by a grinning Lobster Claws, making both of them let out startled shouts. “Ooh, ooh, my turn!” the hard-headed Monster shouted, dragging the two over to the stage against their will, ignoring their protests.

“I've got scars and lumps and bruises,” Lobster Claws began his verse, keeping his tone light and cheerful. “Plus something here that oozes,” he added, holding up his arm right in the red thief's face, making Marco gag. “And let's not even mention my complexion!”

“Boo get off the stage!” Bearicorn yelled from the crowd, growing tired of the song, but Lobster Claws ignored him and continued to sing anyways.

“But despite my voices that's raw,” he sang off key, making several Monsters cover their ears. “My beady eyesight and my claws...” he held up his namesake for both Star and Marco to observe closely.

“I really want to make a love connection!” Lobster Claws declared, hugging the two close to him with a love-sick puppy dog face.

“Awww,” Star said with bright, shining eyes.

“Can't you see me with a special little lady,” the Monster continued to drone, looking lost in his fantasies as he sat in a small tub beside a very annoyed looking Ludo, who sat with his arms crossed and a deep hateful glare on his face. “Rowing in a rowboat down the stream,” he continued, using a table leg as a make-shift paddle as he used it to push him across the room, Tom watching him pass by with narrowed eyes, still unable to believe any of this was happening.

Next thing anyone knew, Lobster Claws had the still unwilling Ludo attached to a rope around his middle, a pair of lopsided wings on his back. The small kappa's position hadn't changed at all, his arms still crossed across his chest as he was hoisted into the air by the still singing crustacean. “Though I'm one disgusting blighter, I'm a lover not a fighter,” Lobster Claws sang proudly.

“Untie me or your dead,” Ludo hissed, finally looking over at the Monster with a death glare.

But the lobster was too lost in his own thoughts as he simply sighed, hugging his end of the rope tight. “Cause way down deep inside I've got a dream!” He then gave Ludo a small push sending him circling around the room, his arms never leaving their crossed position.

Star and Marco watched wide-eyed as Ludo passed by them, before sharing startled looks with each other as the other Monsters in the room repeated the same verse from before, Lobster Claws cutting in every so often with his own verse. “He's got a dream.”

“I've got a dream.”

“He's got a dream.”

“And I know one day romance will reign supreme.”

Out of nowhere, Lobster Claws appeared behind the two and they let out audible screams of fright. “Though my face leaves people screaming.”

“Well yeah, when you sneak up on people it does,” Star mumbled, still trying to will her racing heart down.

Lobster Claws gave them an apologetic grin, before continuing on with his part in the song, “There's a child behind it dreaming,” his eyes seemed to shimmer as he gazed off into the distance. He pulled the two into another unwanted hug, nearly crushing them with his unknown strength. “Like everybody else, I've got a dream.”

The room broke into a euphoria of other Monsters confessing their dreams, showing off their talents to the two young intruders. Star and Marco didn't mind, giving them their full attention, though mostly because they were just glad they weren't being murdered and would continue on with the distraction for as long as they could. Tom stayed out of the way of this, not caring in the slightest to join them. But when he was suddenly surrounded by the rest of the Monsters, as well as Star and Marco, the boy in red asked, “So what's your dream?”

“Mine?” Tom asked, not quite sure he had heard him right. Marco nodded though and Tom's eyes narrowed to near slits as he hissed out between clenched teeth, “I. Don't. Sing.”

“But-” Buff Frog started to argue, only to be interrupted by Tom.

“I don't sing!” Tom screamed at them from the top of his lungs and everyone quickly backed away from him with noticeable cringes.

But once they had Lobster Claws muttered under his breath, “Spoil sport.”

“So now what?” Marco asked and his eyes widened as all eyes hovered on him. “Wha- me!” he squeaked nervously.

“Go on Marco, you'll be great!” Star reassured him, giving him a push forward and the boy was forced to stagger into the spotlight to avoid tripping on his own feet. Once he was facing the crowd again, his face turning an unhealthy shade of red, he opened his mouth and sang awkwardly, “I have dreams like you, no really.” He swallowed as his voice cracked on the last line, but an encouraging thumbs up from Star on the sidelines gave Marco a burst of bravery as he continued more confidently. “Just much less, touchy feely. It mostly happens somewhere warm and sunny.”

Star felt her cheeks flush at the clear, smooth tone that was Marco's singing voice. She hadn't expected it to sound so good and her hammering heart was proof that she was enjoying getting to hear it. The boy also seemed to be enjoying himself as he smiled, his eyes closing and his voice rising to more confident levels with each word. “On an island that I own. Tanned, rested and alone. Surrounded by enormous piles of money!”

The others cheered, surprising Marco as he was lifted off the ground by dozens of claws and paws, hefting him into the air by his limbs, where he froze and went stiff, not wanting this kind of attention from them. But before he could complain, he was tossed screaming into the air, where his girlish squeals went ignored once Star stood up on one of the tables and the Monsters turned their attention onto her, Marco slamming into the ground a second later with a loud grunt of pain.

“I've got a dream!” She sang, raising a hand into the air, a bright infectious smile on her face. Marco sat up, rubbing his head as he caught sight of the girl through the crowd of people, his eyes instantly going wide.  “I've got a dream!” Marco's and every Monster's mouth dropped open at the sweet, silky singing voice the girl had. Everyone was instantly entranced on her every word and movement, but none moreso than Marco, who found brain cells frying on every note as his heart rate spiked to abnormal and probably unhealthy levels.

“I just want to see the floating lanterns gleam,” she continued with a far-off look as she spoke of her dream, her eyes twinkling like her namesake, but her voice remained proud and strong, never missing a note, as she flawlessly carried the playful tune. A massive cheer followed this declaration and the smile on her face was so pure and innocent that it could have melted even the darkest of hearts with but a glance. And to all onlookers she seemed like she belonged on stage, in the limelight, like it was where she was always meant to be.

“And with every passing hour I'm so glad I left my tower. Like all you lovely folks I've got a dream.” Marco just watched her solo in a state of awe, noticing the way the spotlight reflected off of her long hair, creating an almost halo around her pretty head as she smiled the sweetest smile he had ever seen in his life. She was so happy and at that moment he would have done anything to keep that look on her face always.

“She's got a dream!” The crowd sang, before pointing back and forth at each other, as they took over the singing portion for a moment. “He's got a dream! They've got a dream! We've got a dream!”

Meanwhile, Marco, who had moved to a fairly secluded corner of the restaurant away from the riled up crowd. He looked over to see Janna and a rat doing some sort of exchange, the bat handing the rodent a piece of gold and receiving a tiny bowl of some sort of food within. The two animals quickly froze and swerved to look over at the boy with narrowed eyes. Marco raised an eyebrow at the odd sight, before saying with a fair amount of concern, “I don't even want to know.”

The small bat just shrugged and  and quickly began eating the food in front of her and Marco was about to comment to the creature about the importance of knowing what your food was before ingesting it, when he was suddenly grabbed by the front of his shirt and pulled forward, now standing in the middle of the crowd. He looked around in confusion, wondering what the heck was going on, while the Monsters just seemed content on singing their number rather than explain anything to the confused young man. “See our differences ain't really that extreme, we're one big team!”

Suddenly the Monster that had grabbed him, pointed to an ox Monster across the room, who raised his foot, preparing to stomp it down on the board beside him. The exact board he was standing on, Marco realized. “Wait no!” Marco screamed in protest but the ox carried out with his plan, slamming his hoofed foot down with all his might sending Marco flying across the room and into a spin where he landed on a barrel at the very back of the room. But the thief wasn't offered a moment to rest as his weight caused it to shift and start rolling forward, Marco trying to frantically walk backwards fast enough to keep himself from falling off. “No, no, stop, stop, stop!” he yelled in a panic. But his terror only grew as he saw the Monsters now tossing flames back and forth to each other across the room and his heart dropped, knowing there was no way to stop from passing under the lit torches. “Star, Janna, help!” he screamed. But these two offered no help, Star suddenly missing from the scene and Janna just watching the show beside her new rat buddy. “Traitor!” he screamed to the bat. But he then had to focus his attention on dodging flames left and right, while the song continued at its rapid, upbeat pace. “Call us brutal, sick, sadistic and grotesquely optimistic, cause way down deep inside we got a dream!”

The moment Marco was passed the immediate danger of third degree burns he breathed a sigh of relief before his barrel hit a chair causing him to fall off, being caught in the waiting arms of Star. “Hey Marco! That looked like fun, can I go next?!” she smiled down at him, oblivious to his previous plight.

“What no, Star. That wasn't a game, my life was in danger!”

“Uh huh, cool,” she said, clearly not listening as she looked around at everything else going on around her and Marco just sighed knowing it was pointless when she was like this. “Can you put me down now, please?” he asked instead.

As for the rest of the restaurant, different members of the crowd had began chanting the same phrase over and over again while wild, rambunctious antics broke out all over the restaurant.

“I've got a dream!” Tossing barrels, boxes, sometimes even each other back and forth across the room.

“I've got a dream!” Some swinging from the chandeliers raining their full cups of rum down onto the bar below.  

“I've got a dream!” Ludo still hanging from the ropes with silent annoyance was surrounded by singing patrons who all seemed to be way too into the song at this point and he rolled his eyes.

“I've got a dream!” Someone doing a series of backflips across the entire length of the store, nearly hitting the still recovering Marco who dodged out of the way as the athletic Monster launched himself out the window shattering it into a million pieces.

The young man looked at the window in shock, before he felt an arm loop through his, looking over to see Star with a bright smile on her face which seemed to set off some kind of electric spark through his body, making his brain turn instantly to mush. “Come on, Marco! It's time for the grand finale.”

The boy didn't argue or fight as the two made it to the center of the room, in the spotlight once more as everyone in the room sang in perfect harmony, “Yes why down deep inside we've got a dreaaaaammmmm!” They all held that note for as long as they could before the music finally cut off and a loud cheer rang through the restaurant a final time, everyone throwing their hands into the air, some raising their cups before gulping down the intoxicating liquid within.

Ruberiot let out a tired sigh as he finally relaxed, letting his tired arms drop as he settled lazily down on his stool. “Finally,” he moaned in relief, glad the musical number was over.

“One more time!” Lobster Claws yelled and the musician looked on the verge of fainting as everyone cheered their support for the idea.

But Ruberiot was saved by Tom who suddenly yelled from the front of the room, “No! No more singing!”

“Awwww,” came the collective response, all of them sounding like a bunch of disappointed kids, and the Monster teen just face-palmed again.

“I'm working with a bunch of idiots,” he hissed, slowly running a hand down his face.

While this was going on, Star and Marco just stood panting for a moment, looking around the room with bright smiles on their faces, before they suddenly became aware their arms were still linked and they quickly pulled away with blushing cheek, sharing an awkward chuckle. “S-So,” Marco began with a slight stutter in his voice. He cleared his throat before continuing, “That was-”

But before the boy could finish his thought the door to the bar slammed open as Meat Fork stood proudly in the doorway, shouting, “I found the guards!”

Everyone in the room froze, except Buff Frog who faster than Marco or Star could respond, grabbed onto their arms and dragged them out of sight. Janna spotted this and quickly flew over to join her friends. The smiling Meat Fork was violently shoved aside a second later and Kelly appeared in the doorway with a determined and angered look in her eyes. “Where's Marco?!” she demanded. “Where is he?!”

“Whoa, babe, calm down!” Tad spoke up from behind her and she shot him a glare that could kill on sight.

“Shut it Tad, I'll decide when to calm down, not you!!” she hissed in a warning tone and the boy gulped and backed down. With her ex properly berated, she turned her attention back to the group of startled criminals in front of her. She began walking around the restaurant looking for any signs that her thief had been there, finally leaning against the bar's counter-top as she muttered to herself, “I know Diaz is here. I can feel it. And when I find him, he's gonna get what's coming to him.”

Directly below her and hidden from sight, Star and Marco were trying not to lose their calm, holding their breath and hoping for the best. The blond looked over at her companion, her quizzical eyes asking him what the heck was going on. Marco shrugged but didn't dare say anything out loud to her, especially with the very perceptive Kelly hovering overhead, trying to silently tell her with his eyes that he would explain later.

“Ah hah!” Kelly exclaimed, pounding a fist against the counter, making both teens jump. “I knew it, I knew he was here!” she said, bending down so she could pick up the small strip of red fabric stuck to a loose nail on one of the chairs. “This piece of cloth had to have come from the one and only 'Red Thief of Corona'!”

The boy looked down at his sleeve and seeing the small rip in it, couldn't stop the groan of annoyance as he whispered, “Aww man, my jacket. This was the only one I owned.” He crossed his arms, leaning back against his hiding spot with a sour look on his face.

Star meanwhile, risked a little peek, raising her head enough that she could see over the counter and she quickly took stock of the four guards in the room, her blue eyes jumping between each of them quickly, before lowering back to the floor. “Okay, so let's both jump out of here at the same time and catch them by surprise. If we work together we can take them out,” Star whispered to her friend, punching a fist into her palm for emphasis.

“What? Are you crazy we can't go out there?” Marco hissed, doing his best to keep his voice low so as to not attract unwanted attention.

“Why not?” Star asked with slight annoyance.

“Because there's four of them and two of us.”

“Oh come on, Marco. We can take them,” Star pressed, the confidence on her face doing nothing to dissuade Marco's answer.

“Yeah no, we aren't risking that,” Marco said firmly, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“Well we have to do something before these guys turn us in,” Star pointed out.

“We just sang a musical number with them all. I don' think they're gonna-”

“I know where Marco Diaz is,” Tom suddenly spoke up, interrupting Marco's thoughts and the two teens shared a fearful look.

“Oh right Tom,” Marco whispered worriedly. He had forgotten all about the angry teen, surely he would rat them out.

“Well then why didn't you just say so,” Kelly said in annoyance, moving over to the Monster teen and staring at him stonily. “Where is he? Tell me and you'll be rewarded.”

Tom ignored the hated glares he was receiving from his fellow Monsters as he kept eye contact with the captain, keeping up an emotionless mask. “He's-” the teen started and Star and Marco both clenched their eyes shut in fear. This was it. “-hiding in one of those barrels,” the teen finally replied, pointing off behind him, where a pile of barrels lay.

Star and Marco held back their gasps, but shared a surprised look. Had Tom just willingly saved them?

“What no he's not,” Ludo began, with an infuriated tone. “He's-” But he was quickly cut off as one of the Monster's slapped a claw over his mouth to silence him, only muffled, angry yells could be slightly heard after that from the small bird Monster.

Kelly wasted no time as she charged over to the barrels, drew a sword and began chopping them open, each time with a loud yell which then turned into a disappointed and irritated groan, before moving on to the next one. The Monsters and three guards just watched her as she continued on like this for a while. Finally, Kelly turned to her stunned guards and yelled, “Well, why are you three just standing there, help me!” The three, Tad, Oscar, and Justin, rushed over and began trying to help her open up the barrels as well, though with less vigor and enthusiasm as their leader.

Tom looked over to Buff Frog and gave a slight nod of his head, signaling him to get the two out of there while the guards were distracted. The amphibian nodded back, his eyes showing his thanks for protecting the two and Tom just glared in response, tipping his head sharply toward the bar his impatience beginning to show through.

Buff Frog obeyed, dropping down to his knee as he leaned over the two, who stared up at him with confusion, and whispered, “Follow me.”

The two nodded and obeyed, crawling forward as the frog Monster tried to subtly walk over to a couple of switches that seemingly allowed the many racks of alcoholic beverages around them to be poured. He quickly pushed one of them down and a trap down slowly fell away, revealing a hidden passage. Star and Marco looked inside the dark tunnel with wide-eyes, until Star felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked over to see Buff Frog smiling down at her, “Go and live dream, both of you.”

“Thanks, Buff Frog, we owe you one,” Marco said, giving him a bright smile, before sliding inside.

“Thank you so much,” Star whispered, her cheer and brightness still ringing in her tone as she gave him a quick hug. The frog smiled giving her the gentlest squeeze back, before helping her slide down into the tunnel herself. He pushed the last bit of hair inside with her, than sealed the door back. He stood up and looked back over to the rest of the bar.

Kelly now stood in front of Tom, her face an inch from his, her fiery eyes digging deep into his as she hissed, “What are you trying to pull? There was nothing in there!”

“Oh really, my bad, must have been mistaken,” Tom said with a shrug, though he couldn't quite keep the smirk off his lips.

“Don't test me, demon,” Kelly shouted, her voice low and warning. “I know he's here somewhere and if you get in the way, I will have you and everyone else here thrown in the deepest dungeon I can find!”

Tom's eyes narrowed at the threat, barely glowing red, as he growled out, “Fine you know what if you want Marco so bad then you can just-”

But Tom never got to finish his angry retort as Lobster Claws suddenly shouted out from the crowd, “I can't take it anymore!” He pushed his way through the crowd, holding his claws together in front of the confused captain, as if awaiting handcuffs. His voice was begging and sorrowful as he exclaimed teary-eyed, “Just arrest me, I'm the one you want!”

“Uhh, who are you?” Kelly asked with a raised eyebrow, Tom giving him an incredulous look beside her.

“I'm.... Marco Diaz,” the lobster declared dramatically.

There was a short pause as Kelly just gave the Monster a blank stare, clearly not buying his story. Finally she just scoffed and began storming toward the exit grumbling, “C'mon guys, we're leaving,” The three hurriedly obeyed their leader's commands, rushing to her side. “This was a waste of my valuable time.”

Tom, Buff Frog and the other Monster all shared elated smiles behind the guards back, looking quite pleased with their victory over successfully helping their new friends elude capture. But then out of nowhere, the doors to the room burst open, a large horse standing proudly and heroically in the doorway, her pink mane blowing in the breeze behind her. “What's with the dumb horse?” one of the Monsters whispered and Pony shot them a glare that looked as if she were trying to mentally set them on fire, which she was.

“What, Pony?” Kelly said, looking at her horse with skepticism. “How are you here? I kinda thought you died or ran off with that thief or whatever.”

Pony gave a sour look at the mention of the stupid turd who had humiliated her and gave a little neigh and shake of her head. Uh uh, I wasn't sticking with that loser for longer than necessary. And now I'm tracking him down so that I can get back at that turd for what he did to me.

Kelly, not understanding what she was saying, crossed her arms and said, “Okay well however you got back, at least I have something to ride on now.”

“Hey, maybe she knows where Marco went?” Oscar suggested and the other two knights nodded in agreement.

“Yeah that sounds good,” Justin said enthusiastically.

“Good thinking, bro,” Tad added, patting him once on the back.

Kelly just massaged her aching head with her fingertips. She couldn't believe she had to put up with these morons. “Ugh, that's ridiculous,” she snapped at them. “She's just a horse, what do you think she could possibly do to-”

Suddenly a neigh brought their attention to Pony who was now behind the bar, pointing at the several levels with her hoof, a satisfied and cocky smirk on her snout. Kelly walked over there, pushing Buff Frog (who was trying to desperately convince her otherwise of going over there) aside and examined the three levers closely. Pony who grew quickly impatient, quickly pushed one of the levers, one with a ducky shape on the top of it and a secret passage way opened up before them. “Ah ha, a hidden tunnel of course,” Kelly said eagerly. But seeing the smirk from her horse she quickly rolled her eyes and said, “Beginners luck.”

The two raced inside, Kelly shouting to the others, already echoed by the tunnels, “Come on, guys! What are you waiting for?!”

Tad, Oscar, and Justin were quick to follow after that, shouting after her in a flustered mess, “Y-Yes ma'am! Sorry ma'am!”

The moment they were all gone, the Monsters all just stared at the passage in a mixture of shock, guilt, and confusion. Finally Lobster Claws looked around at his fellow Monsters and asked, “So uh, do we chase after them or-”

“No,” Tom said firmly, but shook his head sorrowfully. “We did what we could. But if we go after them now, we'll only just end up getting ourselves arrested. They're on their own now.” The Monsters still seemed depressed at this fact, until Tom added, “They can handle themselves though, I'm sure they'll be fine.”  

Buff Frog looked at the entrance with longing, wanting to go after to try and help them, but Tom was right, they seemed liked they could handle themselves and at the very least they looked like they could protect one another well enough. He couldn't risk getting in too deep, he did still have his own kids to provide for.

“So what do we do now?” someone asked, as the uncomfortable tension began to ease up some.

“How about... another song?!” Lobster Claws suggested brightly and Tom just face-palmed as the familiar accordion started up again and the next musical number began, much to the flame-headed teen's dismay.

…

Star and Marco walked silently side by side down the dark passage, the boy carrying a lit torch as they traveled the dusty trail. It was clear it hadn't been used in years as cobwebs and grim was found everywhere, but neither were too concerned about that, their thoughts on the previous events that had taken place in the bar. Star seemed excited like usual, but Marco wasn't sure what to say now that they were alone again, intensely aware of Star's presence beside him at all times.

Out of the corner of his eye Marco noticed a skeleton pinned to the wall by a large sword and he felt a slight shudder go up his spine. Well that isn't foreboding at all. He decided to pull his attention away from the sight before his thoughts could get the best of him and instead turned to Star, whose crystal blue eyes were twinkling in the dim light. He smiled, finding her face precious and pretty, but quickly coughed to cover his suddenly flushed cheeks. This drew her attention onto him and to avoid any sort of awkward silence said the first thing that came to his mind, “So, uh, guess that Tom guy wasn't all bad after all.”

Star nodded. “Yeah, he's alright. They all were,” she said brightly. “I'm glad we got to meet them.”

“They were definitely full of surprises,” Marco agreed. He cleared his throat once before adding, “And uh, so were you.”

Star gave him a startled look, before it widened into a wide smile, her eyes full of so much joy that Marco felt his heart skip a beat. “Really? You think so?”

Marco nodded quickly. “Yeah, I mean, when those guys were ready to attack us, you stuck up for me and you didn't back down. It was pretty incredible, actually.”

Star's face blushed but she kept her focus on Marco as she said thoughtfully, “Yeah, I guess it was.”

Marco was now nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm not really used to people sticking up for me, so... thanks.”

Star made a curious face, before finally saying, “Your welcome, that's just what friends do for each other.”

Marco turned to her with surprise. “F-Friends,” he stuttered.

“Yeah, we are friends, right?” she asked expectantly and Marco smiled and nodded.

“Of course. I just... didn't realize we were,” he said softly and Star could now see his eyes twinkling with joy.

Star paused for a moment, not sure if she should ask him one of the many burning questions she had had since they met, but she decided one wouldn't hurt so she asked simply, “So Marco, where are you from?”

“Oh uh, I don't really talk about my past,” Marco said quickly, the nervousness immediately back in his eyes.

“Oh,” Star replied, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice and he gave her guilty frown. “Well that's okay,” she said quickly, not wanting to make him feel bad for his decision. After all, there were plenty of parts about her own past she didn't feel like discussing. “You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

Marco opened his mouth to respond, when there was a loud noise behind them. The two recognized it as a distant, echoed yell and the two swerved to see torchlight following along behind them... and getting closer. Star gasped, her eyes widening some in fear. Oh no, they had found them.

She felt a hand grip her arm as Marco shouted, “Run!” The two took off down the tunnel, Star praying her hair didn't get caught on anything and jeopardize their escape. They could now more clearly hear the angry shouts of their pursuers and this only pushed Star to run faster, her legs beginning to burn as she pushed them to their max.

Finally, Star saw a light up ahead and let out a relieved sigh. “Oh Marco, we're almost home free.” With one final push to her stubborn legs she was able to make it out of the dark tunnels and into the blinding sunshine. She was about to let out a victorious laugh, when she heard Marco yell, “Wait Star!” and her chest rammed into something soft but firm, bringing the blond to an immediate stop. She looked down to see Marco's arm in front of her, stopping her from running off the cliff they had reached, Star feeling a bit dizzy as she looked with horror at the long drop below. “Sorry,” Marco sheepishly apologized. “I just didn't want you to-”

“No, no, you did the right thing,” Star told him quickly. The two took a quick moment to survey the scene, they were at some sort of dam, a large wheel turning beside them, pumping fresh water into a series of wooden shafts that carried the water safely through the large canyon.

“So how do we get across?” Star asked and Marco just cringed openly. “I uhhh-”

Suddenly the two heard loud footsteps behind them and they both turned to see the guards had caught up with them. Star wanted to take a step back, but considering they were on the edge of the cliff as is, she settled for holding up her frying pan in a battle stance, growling low under her breath in warning.  

Marco grabbed the girl's arm and told her in a squeaky, nervous tone, “Star this is not the time to go leaping into danger.”

Star gasped, her eyes lighting up as she exclaimed, “That's it!” Before Marco could question whatever idea had just entered her head, she quickly shoved her frying pan right in his direction, shouting, “Here hold this!” She didn't even realize she had just slammed the heavy metal right into his stomach, causing him to temporarily lose his breath and release a pained, “Oof!”

The blond swerved on her heels and, grabbing a length of her hair, threw it over toward a hanging wooden beam a short distance away. Her hair wrapped easily around it, creating a make-shift rope for her to swing on. She smiled and gave one tug to make sure her hair was secure before leaping off the side of the cliff with a loud yell. “Whooohoooo!”

Marco watched her sail across the short distance before landing easily on a ledge nearby. His mouth hung open in shock until he heard the sound of ringing metal and turned to see Kelly and her three guard companions had drawn their swords, moving menacingly closer to their enemy. “Your not getting away this time, Diaz,” Kelly hissed.

“Umm, I know you're probably mad about what happened earlier but I've kinda got my hands full at the moment, so any chance you would accept a formal apology and let me go?” Marco tried weakly and the captain's eyes seemed to narrow even more at that.

“The only thing I'll accept from you is your surrender or your death, your choice,” Kelly spat aggressively.

Marco just let out a deep sigh. “I figured you'd say that,” he said numbly, before raising up the only weapon he had at his arsenal, Star's frying pan. Kelly charged him with a loud scream and he easily deflected her blade, sending her stumbling off to the side of him, buying him a few seconds without having to worry about her impaling him.

Next came Oscar, who's sloppy form was easily overpowered by Marco's more experienced technique, blocking the weak swing before smacking the sword completely out of his hand and sending it tumbling down the cliff. “Hey no fair, man!” Oscar whined, before he was hit full force by the rusted metal pan, knocking him completely out cold.

Tad, desperate to both avenge his comrade and impress his ex, swung his sword down with all his might, but the red-hooded thief just stepped to the side before smacking him with the frying pan, sending the poor guard flying back.

Justin almost caught Marco off guard, attacking while he was distracted with Tad and his furious lunge would have gone unnoticed if he hadn't stupidly yelled, “Take this!” as he did so. Marco quickly swerved around, blocking the swing, before countering a few more attempted strikes, Justin was definitely more skilled than the others, but the frying pan was just too big an obstacle for him to get around and eventually he too was incapacitated by an unexpected smack to the face from the notorious Red Thief.  

Marco looked down at the three unconscious bodies laying at his feet. He had somehow managed to defeat all three of the “elite” guards in the span of only a few seconds. “Huh that went surprisingly better than I expected,” he muttered to himself.

“Whoo, you go Marco! Rock that frying pan!” came Star's encouraging yell from the neighboring cliff.

Kelly, seeing all three of her guards defeated, growled in anger and shouted, “Okay, that's it, I'm taking you down!”

“Oh yeah,” Marco taunted, feeling more confident since it looked like he was actually going to win this fight. “You and what army?”

“Marco look out!” came a warning yell from Star and Marco saw a sword heading right for him out of the corner of his eye. He screamed and raised his frying pan to block, just barely managing to stop the blade from impaling itself in his eye, but it caused him to stumble back and nearly fall off the cliff he was now once more at the edge of. He heard Star scream his name again but managed to regain his balance, so that he thankfully didn't fall to his death.

He looked over to see who his new opponent was only for his mouth to drop open at the sight of that stupid horse from before now holding a sword in its teeth and aiming it right at him. “Whhhaattt the-” Marco began in pure confusion and shock until he was cut off as he was forced to dodge out of the way of the mad horse's furious and incredibly fast lunge.

“That'ta girl!” Kelly yelled encouragingly to her pony. “We got him now!” She quickly joined in on the effort and Marco found his hands full trying to fight off two surprisingly skilled opponents. Meanwhile, Star was yelling encouraging and helpful things to her friend, who was beginning to sweat and pant at the effort it was taking just to keep from being impaled. “Yeah, Marco you got this! Oh look  out, the horse if trying to sneak up behind you! Oh if you block the angry girl's swing you should be able to- Oh no, not like that!” She cringed seeing Marco getting thrown back by a kick from the girl, luckily not in the direction of the cliff. “Okay good effort but maybe if you-” She cut herself off again, as Marco blocked a swing from the horse, making him lose his balance at the effort, tripping and rolling across the dirt before jumping back up to his feet again.

“Yeah, this isn't going so well,” Star said softly to herself. She looked over to her bat companion and said in a confident voice, “Come on, Jan. Marco needs our help.”

The bat nodded before leaving her shoulder and flying across the massive gap over to where Marco was beginning to be overpowered by the relentless duo of Kelly and Pony. Janna quickly began flying around Kelly's head, pulling at strands of her hair to try and keep her attention on her and the girl guard was quick to fall for this trap. “Hey! Knock it off!” she began waving her arm and sword at the bat that continued to annoy her by flying around her head over and over again, obscuring her view. “Get away from me you pest!” Kelly screamed in pure frustration and Janna just smirked relentlessly. If only she had remembered her matches, then she really could have created a diversion, but guess this was good enough for now.

Marco, meanwhile, was still trying to fight off Pony Head, who never once let off her relentless onslaught. “What the heck is even happening!” Marco screamed in pure panic and bewilderment as he matched blow after blow from the crazy horse.

“Your doing great, Marco!” Star yelled encouragingly to her friend, while trying to loop her hair securely around a sharp rocking sticking out from the ledge.

“I'm fighting a horse!” was all he screamed in reply. Finally, Pony managed to take advantage of Marco's disarray and knock the frying pan out of his hand, the two watching as its tumble to the ground below, before the teen looked back over at the horse and said, “Wow, fun stuff. But I'll just be going now.”

Before he could even make a move away from the crazed horse, Pony had the knife to Marco's throat and he gulped loudly, trying to halt his breathing out of fear of accidentally slicing his neck open. Star gasped seeing the position of her friend and yelled, “Marco!” Taking the end of her hair she threw it across the gap, managing to reach all the way across, where her hair looped around his arm, tightening into a firm knot. Before anyone could react Star yanked on her hair with all her might, causing Marco to fall back off the cliff, with a loud girlish scream. Pony just watched the scene flabbergasted, while Kelly, who was finally rid of Janna as she flapped away after properly distracting the guard, just whined in frustration and crossed her arms childishly in front of her chest, “What, no?! Come on that's not even fair! I wanted to throw him off the cliff!”

Marco felt his heart leap into his throat as the ground rushed toward him, or he rushed toward the ground, he was too panicked right now to tell the difference. His life flashed before his eyes, until he heard a voice from above yell, “Hang on, Marco! I got you!” He felt the hair around his arm go taunt and suddenly instead of plummeting to his death he was now soaring through the air across the large canyon and his scream of terror turned into a triumphant yell of joy. “Whooo, oh man this is great! I've never felt so alive!”

“Marco look out!” Star screamed, struggling to keep her hair in place as Marco's weight was causing her hair to try and slip off from the rock she had it wrapped around.

“What?!” Marco yelled to the blond, the wind rushing past his ears making it hard for him to hear his friend, so he tried to look over his shoulder to see what she was talking about only for Marco's body to slam directly into a hanging board connected to the wooden shafts jutting through the canyon. He moaned in pure agony and pain as his aching ribs and stomach took the impact of the collision, feeling like fire in his chest.

“I was trying to warn you, you were about to hit something,” Star sheepishly explained to her friend.

“Yeah, I got that,” Marco coughed out in a strained tone.

Kelly, seeing the rival thief had not fallen to his death and instead was looking like he might escape her capture, she jumped back into action, exclaiming, “Oh no you don't!” The green-haired girl quickly snatched her weapon off the ground and used it to easily slice a large pillar in half, causing it to fall over and create a bridge across to Star's ledge.

“That can't be good,” Star muttered in concern.

“Star!” came Marco's yell from below her and she turned to see him, now standing and recovered, holding the end of her hair. “Quick jump!”

“Okay!” Star screamed without hesitation, taking a few steps back before doing a running leap off the ledge. Kelly rushed across the board hoping to catch her target's accomplice, diving for her but she missed by mere inches, hitting the ground hard and watching in defeat as the blond came to a smooth landing on the ground below, Marco sliding down the water pipes all the way to the bottom and landing on his butt at the girl's feet. She growled and stood, punching the nearest board in her anger, causing it to snap in half and a rush of water and a loud groan from the dam behind her alerted her to her mistake too late. She slowly turned around to see the cracks forming all over the large dam as without its support beams in place it began to break apart.

“Aw, dang it!” Kelly groaned, before a rush of water hit her.

Star was just helping Marco up, telling him in a positive tone, “Well that went way better than expected,” before the two heard the loud groaning and ear-splitting shatter behind them and they turned to see the dam break, shattering wood and falling structures raining down around them, a wall of water rapidly ascending toward them. “Run!” Star and Marco screamed as one, running for their lives as a mountain of water followed behind, quickly gaining speed on them, threatening to sweep them away and drown them in its depths. The water in its attempt to completely fill the canyon, crashed into the side of a large rock outcropping, the sure force of hundreds of pounds of water hitting it at once causing the whole thing to tip over and begin falling directly toward the two escaping teens.

Star and Marco never stopped running, keeping their focus on the small cave entrance they could see just ahead, both of them carrying as much of the girl's hair as they could possibly hold. Finally they made one last sprint for the entrance reaching it just as the rock slammed down behind them, sealing off the entrance inside as a huge wave of water crashed against its side.

The two panted in the pitch blackness of the cave, blinking a few times as they waited for their eyes to adjust. “J-Janna,” Star gasped out, still struggling to gain enough air flow from her burning lungs to speak. “Wh-Where is Janna?” she asked feeling panickingly around in the dark, fearful that her pet had been swept away in the water.

“She probably flew away when the dam broke,” Marco said.

“Um, hey, Marco,” Star's nervous voice spoke up and he looked over to her with concern. “Is the water... rising to you?” she asked, biting her lip as she felt the pool of water that had once been at her ankles slowly rising up her legs as the small cave filled with water.

The red-hooded teen now picked up on what the blond was talking about, the water level slowly rising. “That's not good,” Marco muttered in worry, looking around at the tiny little cave they had found themselves trapped in. “We gotta find a way out of here.”

Star nodded and the two (their eyes now fully adjusted to the darkness) began feeling around the small space for any signs of an exit, Marco trying to pry the rocks loose with his bare hands, hoping to pull them away and reveal some sort of hidden entrance. Their search became more and more panicked as cold water continued to inch its way up, Star shivering in the chill as her bare legs felt the full force of her careless choice in clothing. Their breath became fogged and ragged as they fought desperately for a way out, Marco eventually having to give up on his attempts to remove the rock walls that walled them in after he sliced his hand open on a sharp rock and he hissed and clutched at his bleeding palm in pain.

Quickly running out of options as the water level reached her stomach and still rising, Star began trying to slam herself into the wall until her shoulder ached, hoping for some kind of give, some kind or results, just... something. Marco meanwhile, dived underwater, hoping to find a way out in the murky depths that were threatening to drown them. But after a few seconds of searching, he gave up this futile hope, unable to pick up anything in the inky blackness he found himself in. He quickly resurfaced, trying to wipe the water out of his eyes as he said shakily, “I can't see anything down there, I-I think we're stuck.”

Star stared at him for a second or two before sucking in a breath and then diving underwater herself. She was down below the water for only a few seconds before she came up coughing and sputtering. She took a couple of short breaths, before starting to dive underwater again, only this time, Marco stopped her, grabbing her firmly but gently by the shoulders. “Hey, hey, Star,” he said softly, giving her a sad smile. “That's not going to work.”

“S-So what?” Star asked, her voice quivering as fear and defeat began to settle in. “We just stay here and die.”

Marco didn't answer but the look in his eyes told Star everything as her own blue orbs widened in terror, feeling tears beginning to surface. “No, no there has to be a way, Janna is probably looking for us, maybe she can bring help, or- or-”

“Star,” the hooded teen spoke up, the broken, emptiness in his voice, freezing Star to the bone. “That isn't going to work. I'm sorry.”

“No,” the girl muttered, taking a step back until it collided with the wall behind her. “No this can't be the end. I was supposed to see the floating lights. I was supposed to live and do something for once in my life.” The tears were falling freely now as she sobbed openly, unable to hide her grief in what was looking to be her final moments. The water was halfway up her chest now, it wouldn't be long before they ran out of air. “Instead- Instead I'm going to die,” she cried, weeping as tears poured down her cheeks.

“At least Janna got away safe,” Marco said, trying to in some way reassure the girl. He hated seeing her so sad.

Star just sniffed and said, “I'm so sorry Marco, I never should have brought you out here, its because of me your going to die, too.”

Marco leaned back against the wall as well, staring off into nothingness before he finally said, “It's okay. I'm honestly kinda glad.”

Star sniffed, asking, “Hmm?”

Marco smiled sadly. “Well before I met you, I didn't really ever take all that many chances, I always played things safe, even when I'd pull a heist or whatever I always spent weeks planning things out, I could never just... be spontaneous like you.” He rubbed his arm awkwardly, taking a deep breath before admitting, “The truth is I'm actually not all that brave. I kinda just pretend to be. I'm actually pretty cautious and safe.”

Star gave a tiny chuckle, wiping the tears from her eyes. The water was now almost up to their chins. “What made you bring that up?”

Marco shrugged. “Well I figured if I was going to die, someone should know the real me,” he said, his face grim as he mentioned the word 'die'. His cheeks blushed mildly as he added, “And I'm kinda glad it's you.”

Star smiled, giving him a thoughtful look before declaring, “I have magic hair that glows when I sing.”

Marco's body froze up, his eyes widening with uncertainty and shock as he muttered out numbly, “Uhhh, wha?”

Suddenly, an idea entered Star's mind as softly whispered, her voice growing louder with each word until it was an elated shout, “I have... magic hair that glows when I sing!”

Marco still just continued to stare at her like she had three heads until she suddenly sang, “Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine.” But that was as far as she could get before the cave was completely submerged in water, the two taking one last gasp of air before they were pulled under by the relentless tide.

There was a couple of seconds of just pure black nothingness for Marco, the only thought entering his mind in that moment was, This is it. Until he felt a glow burning against his eyelids and in his confusion he opened his eyes, wondering if he was already dead and that this light was there to guide him into the after-life. But instead he found himself looking at Star, her blond hair lit up golden as bright as a miniature sun and one of the most breathtaking and bizarre sights Marco had ever seen. He nearly gasped in shock, but remembering he was underwater and that that would only end up drowning him, he was somehow able to fight the urge.

Marco pushed aside his shock, knowing they had a very short amount of time, before looking around for some sort of exit. He quickly spotted a small hole where water seemed to be seeping through. He shared a look with Star, reading her piercing blue gaze as the two swam over to the pile of rocks, trying to both frantically paw them away and escape this horrible death they were being faced with. Finally after what felt like an eternity, when both of their lungs felt like they were on fire and they that they couldn't hold their breath any long, their bodies begging for oxygen, Marco's hand burst through to the other side, his hand feeling around for a second before finally pulling the last rock free and busting the sealed entrance open as they were both thrown harshly into the river.

The two both surfaced, coughing and sucking in as much air as their abused lungs could take in at once, crawling their way out of the river bank and laying in the grass for a few seconds just panting for breath. “We're alive,” Star breathed happily.

“Your hair glows,” the boy breathed, still in shock by the bizarre event that had led to his life being saved. He was grateful sure, but now that the near death-experience passed, he was also confused and stunned, incapable of comprehending what had just happened to him.

“We made it, Marco!” Star squealed in delight, giving the boy a quick hug. The boy made no movement at all, his eyes just staring blankly off into the distance, his mouth hanging open. Star jumped to her feet, striking a dramatic pose, as she triumphantly declared, “Ha, take that world! Gotta do more than that to kill us, right Marco?”

“She has glowing hair,” Marco was weakly muttering to himself and Star was starting to grow worried about her friend's mental state.

“Uh, Marco you okay?” she asked, leaning down over him, watching as his eyes seemed to stare right through her.

“I fought a horse, we met singing monsters, your hair glows,” the boy said numbly, before exclaiming, “Are there any other mind-blowing revelations someone wants to surprise me with?!”

“Hey, loser, head's up,” came an unknown voice, right before he was hit in the head with a frying pan.

“OW!” Marco screamed, sitting upright and massaging his aching nose. “Who the heck threw that?!” He turned to glare at whoever had the bright idea to chuck something at him while he was clearly out of it, only to stare in shock at a dark-haired, beanie-wearing girl smirking back at him, her brown eyes instantly filling him with recognition. What was that-

Star gasped. “Janna Banana, you got away!” She quickly threw her arms around the girl in a tight hug, giggling with joy and relief and the girl merely hugged her back, while giving Marco a cryptic grin.

“I brought you your frying pan back, your welcome,” the girl said.

“Aww, that was so thoughtful of you,” Star cooed, giving her a grateful look.

“Wha- Bu- How?!” was all Marco managed to stutter out, his brain incapable of forming a single sentence or heck even more than one word without completely shutting down. “Your a human!” he finally managed to exclaim.

“Actually I'm a bat,” the now-human Janna said matter-of-factly. “I can only turn human for like an hour every day.”

“Wait but how-” Marco asked in exasperation.

“I was cursed,” the girl replied with simple shrug.

Marco looked over to Star before asking, “Are you cursed, too?”

“Wellll not really,” the blond hesitantly replied, not looking too sure of her answer herself. “It's more of a... magical gift.”

“Oh he saw your hair glow,” Janna said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, but he doesn't know what it does yet,” Star explained to her friend.

“Hmm, I'm surprised, I didn't think you'd show anyone that.”

“Well, I was kinda outta options and I think we can trust him.”

“If you say so.”

Marco just gaped at the two girls as they talked amongst each other, before finally exclaiming at the top of his lungs, “What is going on?!” His voice cracked on the last word and the two girls just shared a look.

Janna sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh great, he's totally freaking out. This is why I didn't want him to know.”

Star shot Janna a look before turning to the boy with a sweet, reassuring smile, that (despite the confusion he was feeling) he couldn't help but blush upon seeing it. “Relax, Marco,” she said in a calm voice. “I'll explain everything.”

…

Ludo was fuming as he exited the Snuggly Duckling, needing an escape from the loud, rambunctious music that had yet to cease since the two teens had left. At the thought of the two troublemakers he growled under his breath. He couldn't believe everyone had fallen for their whole innocent act, they were clearly just trying to save their own skin. He had been ready to turn them in and collect the reward but noooo the others just had to cover for them and even help them escape. He had hoped that at the very least Tom would have been on his side but then the stupid flaming teen had to go and show some character growth. Why couldn't he just realize his roll and stay the villain like him!? But then that's what happened when you worked around a bunch of morons, your genius ideas fell on deaf ears and you ended up out voted by a bunch of idiots.

He leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest, as he muttered through clenched teeth, “They just had to let those stupid kids get away. I could make a fortune off of that Diaz kid. If I ever see them again, I'll-”

“Oooorrr,” a voice suddenly spoke up, snapping Ludo out of his thoughts and he jolted upright, looking up at the woman hovering over him. Her teal hair had streaks of gray and her smooth skin showed the beginning signs of wrinkles starting to form, but she seemed to hold herself with an air of confidence and power. She had a pleasant smile, but her eyes seemed to hide some sort of secret behind them. Upon closer inspection, Ludo wasn't sure what to think of this woman. “You could go find them yourself, if you're so desperate for money.”

“And what's it to you what I do?” Ludo asked, raising a distrustful eyebrow toward the human.

The woman shrugged, her expression never changing, her eyes seemingly digging into his skin. “Well it just so happens I'm after them as well and I thought I could use a partner to help me out,” she said smoothly, calmly, but her voice didn't leave any room for argument.

“Why should I help you?” Ludo asked, still skeptical of the woman.

She didn't waver for a second as she replied, “Because I know more about them than you do. In fact, I know where they are headed, I know a secret about one of them you don't, and-”

She reached into the satchel she now had clinging to her waste, pulling out the crown. “If you help me, I'll give you this, as a gift of my appreciation.”

Ludo's eyes shined with greed as he stared at the golden crown of his desires, unable to speak or look away from the object. But he finally, shook his head free from the distraction, saying, “Yeah well I don't trust humans, so I'm not helping you.”

The woman let out a long sigh, before saying, “Fine.” Then to Ludo's surprise she added, “Here, I have no need for this,” before tossing the crown his way, the kappa Monster's claws fumbling to grab it out of the air, before holding it tightly in his claws, practically drooling on the object.

He laughed manically, quickly hiding it from her view as he taunted, “Ha, stupid human! That was a huge mistake!” He started to walk away, back into the Snuggly Duckling to find a good place to hide it, when the woman said, “Oh well, I'll just be on my way then, if you did agree to help me I was going to give you something worth at least three of those crowns but I can see that doesn't interest you.”

Ludo paused, before slowly turning back around to face the woman, her back to him now. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

Eclipsa smiled to herself, knowing she had just won the little Monster over. Her plan had worked perfectly, the moment she had gotten to the inn and overheard through the thin wood her daughter proclaiming her love for the outside world and her desire to never go back, she had been scheming up a new plan to reclaim what was hers. And the first step was recruiting a Monster to help her. And then low and behold but she found one that despised her daughter's traveling companion and was willing to do practically anything if it meant a big paycheck. Not to mention he was incredibly gullible.

She turned back around, making sure to put on her warm smile once more, saying politely down to the little Monster, “Well, to put it simply that girl Marco Diaz is traveling with has healing powers.”

Ludo didn't look convinced, raising another skeptical eyebrow, before scoffing to himself, “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“Well how else do you explain the most wanted thief in the kingdom keeping some random girl with him. He's keeping her powers all to himself.”

“That rat,” Ludo growled, buying into her lie much easier than Eclipsa had expected. “Of course he would horde all the good treasure for himself, what a selfish little brat!”

Look who's talking, Eclipsa thought to herself, but didn't dare say it out loud.

“Okay fine, you got yourself a deal,” Ludo proclaimed, throwing his hand out for her to take.

“Pleasure doing business with you, I'm sure,” Eclipsa said, bending down to shake his hand. “You can call me Lady Eclispa.”

“Ludo Avarius,” the Monster replied.

Eclipsa smiled brightly down at him, while carefully reaching her free hand behind her to make sure her knife was secure and out of sight. Then to help seal her trap, she said in the sweetest tone she could, “I think this is the start of a beautiful partnership.”

Ludo's sappy smile was enough to tell her that the gullible Monster was completely in her clutches. Now for phase two...

#Star vs #Star vs AU #My Writing #Star is a Disney Princess #Star is Rapunzel #Starco

[thegayfromrulid]

Hello! Congrats on 2k kudos!!!! I love your fic so much :) I’d like to request a YujiKiri one-shot (real life AU) where Kirito and Eugeo go on a date at a park. Kirito loves plants and he keeps excitedly babbling about all the flowers and Eugeo is just thinking to himself, ‘lol I love him when he talks about stuff he’s interested in.’ I’d also like to add an extra side of fluff with that. (P.S.: I really love your fic and you’re an amazing person)

Awwwe. You’re so sweet. You’re amazing, too, kiddo! This was very fun and cute to write! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! One-shot below the cut! 

           Certain places are the kinds of locations you’d expect to go on dates at—like sit-down restaurants, coffee shops, movie theaters, or, for fancier folks, maybe a dine-in playhouse. In truth, a date could be just about anywhere. Kirito’s choice for a date location was neither a grand cliché nor somewhere totally unexpected for a romantic afternoon: a walk through the park.

           It was a casual outing; I picked out an outfit that would be comfortable for outdoor strolls while simultaneously looking a little bit dressed up. I wanted to impress my date with my sense of style, after all. He’d probably compliment me wearing just about anything, but at least he’d appreciate some outfit effort. I hoped he was thinking the same.

           I met him at the park just after lunch. He waited for me by the park gates. When I made it over to him, we shared a greeting kiss. Kirito smiled and complimented my outfit—in turn, I told him he looked very handsome today. He blushed a little, then started to rub the back of his neck. I reached over and grasped his hand.

           “I’m only telling the truth,” I said.

           His blush intensified.

           “Shall we?” I asked, nodding towards the park.

           Kirito perked back up. He suddenly tugged me along the path, clearly eager to show me something. I wondered what kind of thing might excite him in a public park. He always had his head stuck in some kind of computer or machine; a park might have seemed out of character for him to the average onlooker. But I knew him better than anyone else, being his boyfriend. There was one thing—one simple little precious thing—that Kirito might want right here in a lush, open-air park such as this one.

           He dropped down onto a bench suddenly. I plopped down next to him, still holding his hand in mine as if he’d disappear if I let go. He pointed across the pathway to a tree, smiling at me with a curious sparkle in his eyes.

           “Do you know the scientific name for the camphor tree?” he asked.

           I shook my head.

           “Can’t say that I do,” I said.

           Kirito shifted excitedly, clearly happy that I’d opened up the floor for him to talk about this tree. This was his surprising side to anyone who wasn’t close to him. He loves plants. I was certain that after he gave me his bit about this camphor tree, he’d drag me down towards the garden to talk about the flowers.

           “It’s Cinnamomum camphora,” he said. “It’s mainly used for oils and timber.”            I chuckled.

           “I was going to guess it was related to cinnamon,” I said.

           “You probably shouldn’t eat that,” he noted. “Unless you really want to see me try?”

           I shook my head again. He grinned mischievously and pulled me up off of the bench to dash over to the tree. He made a show of mockingly going to bite it. I playfully whacked his arm, telling him not to get caught taking bites out of the trees. Kirito diverted his attention away from the tree for a moment to steal a kiss from me.

           His kisses were always as sweet as the scent of the flowers he liked to share with me. As he pulled his lips away to give me one of the best of his smiles, I felt a tug in my chest. I wanted to kiss him again. But he was already dashing down the sidewalk like an excited child. I did my best to keep up with him, if only to ensure that our hands never separated. I ran after him, drinking up the fresh, spring air and his pleasant aura all at once.

           He finally came to a stop at the edge of the garden. Spread out before us was a vast bed of flowers, arranged in such a way that they were a perfectly blended gradient of reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks. Their scents wafted over to us on the gentle breeze. A few people were milling about the garden, pointing into the sea of blossoms and speaking quietly to themselves.

           “The gardeners really outdid themselves, didn’t they?” I said.

           Kirito nodded.

           “It’s breathtaking,” he said. “You think I could ever make a garden like that?”

           Back at his place, he was trying to raise a plant for the first time. It was a pretty blue flower that was shaped like a star. He’d become quite attached to the gardening habit, even if it was just for the sake of his little blue friend. He seemed to be seriously contemplating having a much larger garden when he got a house. I pondered about that for a moment.

           Kirito, with a cozy little house and a largish garden out front, would spend part of his day working on his mechatronics and the other part tending to his plant friends. I couldn’t help but insert myself into this little daydream about the future—we were side-by-side in the garden there just as much as we were now. Just thinking about it made my heart flutter. I squeezed his hand gently.

           “What are you blushing about?” he asked.

           “Oh, nothing.”

           He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and guided me over closer to the edge of the flower bed.

           “You see these orange ones on the left?”

           I nodded.

           “Those are tiger lilies,” he said. “Sometimes I wonder if the person who named them put a lot of thought into that or not. The brown speckles don’t make me think of tigers. I associate speckles more with leopards and cheetahs. But a cheetah lily might be silly, huh?”

           His comment made me chuckle. I didn’t think of any animals when just staring down at a flower, but someone along the line must have gazed down at this blossom and been reminded of a tiger in some fashion.

           “Well, if not a cheetah lily, what would you call it?” I asked him.

           Frowning in thought, he grasped his chin with his hand and stared off at some point in the distance. His forehead creased just a bit when he was in thought. The progression of him thinking to him stumbling across an answer was evident on his face in an almost cartoonish way. His eyes widened and his face lit up with a huge grin.

           “I’d call them fox lilies!” he said.

           I lifted an eyebrow at him and smiled.

           “Any particular reason why?”

           “Foxes are orange,” he said, “and keeping with the theme, they’re an animal.”

           When I started to giggle at his answer, he gave me a funny look.

           “What?” he asked.

           “I don’t think you had to keep with the animal theme,” I said, leaning over to press my shoulder against his.

           He raised his eyebrows.

           “Fair point.”

           I wrapped my arm around his so that our bodies were pressed up against each other. I skimmed over the flower bed, looking at all of the different shapes and colors. Kirito started to babble mindlessly about each and every one he could identify. I watched him with a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest.

           This. This pure moment of Kirito enjoying something without a care in the world was what made me fall for him over and over again. He didn’t seem to know when his flip switched and he went from a cautious, on-guard person just trying to fit into the social setting to a carefree individual just excited to exist and share his love for something. Watching him pull down all of his walls and be himself without chains brought joy to my heart.

           Facts about flowers from seemingly out of nowhere spilled from his mouth. Some were about how they grew or where they preferred to be planted. He knew the histories behind some of their names, and wondered aloud to me about others much in the same way he had about the tiger lilies. He simple biology facts, flower meanings, and whether or not they were edible.

           He even tried to prove one’s edibility to me. I had to stop him. I couldn’t keep myself from laughing as he plucked one flower and stuffed it in his mouth to prove his point. Knowing I was already too late, I reached over and grabbed the stem that was sticking out of his mouth to remove the flower. He let me take it and toss it in a nearby garbage bin. When I turned back to him, he reached over and cupped my face in one hand.

           “Hey. Hold still a moment,” he said.

           I stood as still as I could manage.

           “What for?” I asked.

           “For this,” he said.

           He slipped a blue flower’s stem into my hair in such a way that it tucked behind my ear. I felt the weight of the flower in my hair and locked eyes with him. His smile was so soft. I wanted to lean forward and kiss him again. I didn’t have to ask, though. He took the liberty of touching his lips to mine without needing to be told. When he pulled back and gazed at me again, he brushed the hair on the other side of my head behind my ear and sighed.

           “That flower is a forget-me-not,” he said, in a voice like a whisper.

           His eyes looked slightly misty.

           “Is something wrong?” I asked.

           He shook his head.

           “No,” he said. “I’m just thinking about how well that flower suits you, both in color and in name.”

           I lifted my hand to the side of my head and contemplated touching the area where the flower was.

           “What do you mean?” I asked.

           He smiled, but it seemed different than before. This smile exuded a feeling that couldn’t quite be put into words. His fingers brushed along my bare cheek.

           “Undying love,” he said.

           He pulled me in to yet another kiss. When we parted, he started to talk more about the symbolism behind the flower. It was associated with lovers not just in the sense of undying love, but of growing affection, loyalty to one another even apart, reminders of one another, and a connection between two people that would last a very long time. His explanation made him sound like such a sappy romantic.

           “What kind of flower would you pick for me?” he asked.

           I thought about that. I wasn’t as familiar with flower facts as he was. There was one flower, however, that I did know the meaning of. While it wasn’t as deeply thought out as his example was, I knew it could still come across as meaningful.

           “I’d pick you a bouquet of salvia,” I said.

           He chuckled a little at the thought.

           “Is that because of the story of me and Suguha eating it?” he asked.

           I shook my head.

           “Salvia means healing,” I said.

           A curious expression replaced his laughter.

           “I’m pleasantly surprised you know that,” he said. “But now I’m even more curious as to why you picked it.”

           It suddenly seemed embarrassing to spout off what I’d been thinking of. His example had been romantic, for sure, but it was the kind of fluffy thing that one expected out of a casual romantic comment. My answer was much deeper than just flirting in the part. I felt my cheeks flush with heat just thinking about it.

           “Is it that embarrassing?” he asked. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

           I shook my head. He was right.

           “I…I just associate you with my own personal healing,” I said, staring down at the ground. “Before we met…before we were together…things were really hard. But then you came into my life and you take me out here, where it’s peaceful and beautiful…and I feel like the hurt and pain I was feeling have been healed just by you coming into my life and helping me to…”

           I paused and glanced over the flower bed. I took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

           “…to stop and enjoy the flowers.”

           He let out a small laugh and pulled me into his arms.

           “I’m glad I can share them with you,” he said. “You’re more precious to me than any of these flowers, and they’re even more special now that I can share them with you, Eugeo.”  

           I slipped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his shoulder. I don’t feel like I deserve Kirito. This boy who stepped into my somber, dull life just whisked me away to a garden every so often and opened my eyes to a world of color. I might never understand why he cared this much for me, but I am grateful. Because the colors didn’t just come from the flowers right here in front of us.

           They came from the garden in Kirito’s heart.

#ask #Fanfic Request #my fanfiction #sao fanfic #2k words for 2k kudos #yujikiri #kirito #eugeo #kittytoe-x-eugeo

[manofmanyvirtues]

The Pure Truth

This is my fifth acid trip and my most profound.  

July 6 at around 6:20 PM I dropped 450 micrograms of Lysergic Acid Diethylamide, the week prior I had spent time cleansing my mind of anxiety in preparing for this trip by handling things in my life that needed to be handled, such as: cleaning tensions between my ex and myself, telling a few people a few things I've been meaning to, finishing up my online summer school class with most of my baggage off my chest and 4 days off from work.

I was ready to buy 3 tabs good Lucy ,which is the most I've done, today. My dealer Eric met me in my alley which is pretty stereotypical, we made the exchange, I walked inside and put it in my drug box, talked to my family, and had dinner for a few hours before receding into my room for the next 10 hours.

6:20 PM I cleared my head and dropped. We played Fortnite on my PC with my friend Jay. We played for maybe an hour and a half. An hour and I begin to feel the oh so familiar feeling of my teeth and skin, tongue began to crawl with little electric pin pricks around the same time the game began to look more and more realistic and vibrant until it began to look like my character was running in front of my face, off my screen. I was already beginning to be surrounded by the flow of everything in my visual field, I started to have trouble communicating with Jay and playing the game started becoming impossible. I remember specifically glancing down at my hand well I was using the keyboard, I saw my bones move as if my skin was nearly transparent. Everything around me became vibrant began to shimmer. I knew that in was in for a big one. By now I manage to mutter: I'm gonna have to lay down to J, before logging off covering myself with blankets on my bed.  

Around 8:00 PM I put on Grateful Dead Station. Since it’s the middle of summer, the sun had not completely set yet and the low Star cast deep yellowish and orange streaks through my blinds and onto my walls, as I lay there completely invested in the music and still coming up fast, my walls and carpet and blinds began dancing with the music. There were waves on the ceiling and rhythm with the song surrounding my vision. If I were to look closer in anything, I could see every individual particles making up the object for instance. I could see every cell in my hand in every thread of my blankets. I listen to the whole album and then after it finished put on Pink Floyd’s “The Dark Side of the Moon”. I remember half way through the oven my body began to vibrate with the sound. There's no way of articulating this feeling, but the sounds are quite literally a part of my touch, I could feel each individual sound holster my body to accompany it some kind of visual would pop up in front of me.  

Up until this point my psychedelic journey this was as far as I'd ever managed to dose. Far as I ever got. I managed to always dose myself low enough to make my physical being and perception feel completely bizarre and alien but I never managed to go deeper. I think this is far as most people go and... But I knew there was something more to be known. I wanted to go into the places that I heard Terence McKenna and Alan Watts talking about... I never saw The Light, The Profound, The Other, The Unspeakable. On one trip prior I remember feeling the very beginnings of my ego dissolving but nothing more. This trip was different. This overwhelming sense of understanding began to build from the moment I started tripping, so after doing trivial things like watching the walls become great city scapes or watch the ceiling fan melt into the floor, which I've done plenty of on trips prior, I decided that this was still coming on stronger by the minute and I thought my ego begin to dissolve.  

By now it's around 1:30 AM and completely dark outside. Turn off all the lights in my room and put on my headphones, began listening to binaural beats for meditation. Leading up to now I had subconsciously felt that there was some sort of struggle in my mind. My internal voice became frantic, asking questions that I've never asked before, giving answers that made sense in a way I can explain. I felt every part of my life be taken away from me one by one, my ego and everything that I had built for 17 years up until this point begin disappearing. In their place my ego was pure understanding and being. A lost memory of my mother, myself of any of my friends, of anything I ever cared about I became nothing while simultaneously I was everything. I remember feeling my body dissolve into my blanket, then into my bed, then into everyone and everything I've ever known. I become the universe.

I felt all things began to piece by piece decide that this was it - that this is the answer - that this is all I am meant to do is experience simply and in complete balance. I understood that the ultimate state of being is to understand that there's nothing to understand, and up until this point I had tried with everything I had to make sense of things on a daily basis and refused to believe that the answer was so simple. The whole time I was presented with amazing visuals of vast impossible landscapes, as if I was eye with no body. Far off places with tall mountains and planets and multiple places at once, streaks of color I've never seen before. Snakes slithering into each other and plants growing infinitely, spinning constantly changing flowers and list geometry and impossible shapes that don't exist in our reality.  

And I was suddenly cast into an endless corridor of beautifully colored faces (google Alex Grey's art to get an idea of what I'm talking about). The space roared with noise and archetypal symbolism. I saw every religion symbolism from every culture, I saw the father and I saw the mother, I saw the Yin and Yang in the form of 2 clouds of smoke - one white and one black - colliding with each other but never becoming gray. I came face to face with fear and bad intentions personified, I saw all things that drive everything in the universe, I saw the rule book of life. I knew that this presence was the universal consciousness or God or whatever you wanna call it. He was there with me. It showed me the beauty of Roxbury and it's faces and lists of beautiful perfectly symmetrical hallways and faces. I got the sense that these faces were meant to show me that the human form is purposeful. The face is designed by something we don't understand thrust into our physical reality through the evolution of life on Earth. I get the feeling that I am something immensely special.  

Message at this point was to shut up, stop worrying and listen. It showed me that the universe created life of nothing, it showed me that our only purpose is to understand. We look for peace and material and relationships but it never occurs to us how amazing it feels, how amazing it is to feel nothing. Then the trip became slightly sinister and joking with me. They began to play a sad song and were showing me a man in the fetal position searching for relief in our physical world that he finds, that he only finds after death. I was shown this for what seemed like eternity, I remember the words bouncing around: “It's all a joke, this is all a big play can't you see monkey that you have no clue what we are doing?”. At the time I was not at all scared instead in awe and curious as to what was meant by all of this.  

By now in the trip I have little recollection of my physical body, but I remember experiencing this beautiful blissful connection to everything and in the distance of my mind hearing myself cry. I felt my body convulse and cry as I was charged with this pure truth and understanding. I had no more connection to anything in my everyday life instead I am just enveloped by love, by bliss, and simultaneously by hate, by chaos, everything was there -  so nothing was. I realize now that this isn't all a big joke, less more of a big metaphor, the game to become good at.  

You get to choose which you make your purpose in this life. And spend every day working at it or you can minimize from every day it get used to be fed what to do by society. Either way you'll return to nothing so doesn't matter in the end - but it really matters now - now is all we will ever experience in this life. After this  enlightening and completely amazing experience I began piecing my life back together one thing at a time. I looked at old pictures and try to text a few friends to ground myself again.

At 2:45 AM I took 2 sleeping pills and I don't remember much after 3:30 AM. My next memory is waking up at 9:30 trying  to piece together what the the fuck happened last night. I got up, ate some fig newtons, drank a glass of water, and was sober but mind-blown for the rest of the day. It was beautiful and terrifying and completely invaluable to me having integrated this experience for a month and some change. My life has taken on a new meaning. I'm immensely more relaxed and confident in everything I do. The universe has a large of a larger purpose for me so I need to just do my part in the play with the big experiment of life on Earth as best I can. I played much more music since and can feel other musicians music in a way I never have before. It all feels so personal now. I think this trip represents one more huge step towards me becoming the best version of myself. I haven’t tripped since and probably won't for awhile, because this was the single most life changing trip of my life. And at the moment I don't feel the need to heal myself any further.

Credit: This World (Youtube)