#riddle me this; is everything that you remember real and nothing but the pure truth? ━ (H:SR V.) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

syndxlla · 3 years

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Part Fourteen of the More to Love Series

Summary: The wedding is in a week, and you’re suddenly very aware of how little time you have left to figure out what to do. You decide to take matters into your own hands, and formulate a plan. Din invites you to a night of experience, and you admit a simple truth to him.

Word Count: 11.8k words, NO USE OF ‘y/n’

Warnings: SMUT (PiV, a little degradation, praise, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk), use of alcohol, drunkness, mentions of scars, sexual harassment

Author’s note: HELLOOOO! this is a fun chapter, and i just wanna let y’all know that we are in the endgame now 😭. don’t worry, i still have so many plans for both the princess and din and just the whole world that MTL is set in. thank you for all the support on this story! it never ends and i will forever be thankful for your love!

Part thirteen

You were a fool for thinking the castle would start to settle down after the ball passed. Alternatively, the planning did not lessen, but instead shifted from masquerade prep to wedding prep. The decorations were taken out, and new samples were brought in. It was made very clear to you that this was really Korkie’s wedding and not your own, because every decision and plan that was made was done without your input.

It had been a few days since Din told you everything, and he truly told you everything. You had plenty of time to reflect on it, and process everything. You worked so hard to gain perspective on it, to try and give your future family the benefit of the doubt, and to understand the full situation. However, you ultimately sided with Din, your heart aching for the situation he was placed in. It had been apparent that he would not have told you any of that if he did not hold immense trust in his heart for you, and the word Ka’rta over grew into your thoughts for all these days. The both of you had agreed to tone things down, deciding it would be a fair middle ground. Less nightly endeavors would keep you two apart, and therefore less suspicious, but it especially made the reunions of passion more sweet.

Your mother was long gone, she left three days ago, and finally you felt that you had the palace to yourself again without Hugo and various other guests breathing down your neck. Your time as Corellian Princess was in it’s endgame now as your imminent marriage to Korkie was just on the horizon, and you still had no idea how to escape from it. Most of your days, you spent making up excuses for missing afternoon tea, and trying extra bites of potential wedding cake flavors in the kitchen. Regardless of what you did, however, Din was always there with you, three paces behind. You were also given the opportunity to dismiss him more often now. The eager infatuation with him has slowly become a steady understanding of feelings, and the two of you were able to fall into a groove without the anxiety of wondering how the other felt, and how long it would be until you reunited. Tradition and duty had lightened up as well, and there were less eyes on how Din was treating you, which gave you the liberty to give him back an ounce of his life.

This was one of the best things to ever happen to Din. You would retire to your room early every night, hoping no one would wonder if you were ill, and because you were away from the eye of Kryze, you could allow Din to leave the castle early. At seven, sometimes even six, he would go home to his son. It made everyone happy, and that is why it was important to happen. This was much preferred over a midnight dismissal. You also noticed a change in Din’s presence after this change was made. He was springier, chuckling more, even sitting down when the two of you were alone. He had finally relaxed around you, and you accredit to the pure fact that he was finally getting more rest.

Those were your favorite parts of the day: when you and Din would find a quiet corner in the library, or maybe an empty sitting room, and he would just tell you about the world. He had been everywhere, you were convinced. He went into detail of cities in Coruscant, explaining how they have extravagant silk markets and countless taverns with exotic drinks. He described the heat of the desert, and how he once had to search for a merchant’s missing camel in return for clean water, a story that led to one of the scars on his back and a very rational fear of the desert at night. His favorite place to tell you about, however, was his home. The Nevarro Frontier clearly had a special place in his heart, and he spoke fondly of it’s tall mountains and tight-knit communities.

“Nothing like the Mandalore you know.” He would sigh. A kingdom that may have been fantastic on the outside, but was riddled with war and political division and heartache on the inside. “Maybe I can take you there someday.”

It was those words that sparked your imagination, and the plan began to formulate.

The real dilemma you had been in all this time was trying to figure out how to live happily with a man you truly loved, but also protect your kingdom, home and family. It was a delicate situation, one with many sighs and frustrated nights. However, after Din explained his battle with Bo to you, it’s resolution was slowly becoming more clear. There had to be a way you could win in this story. You would not give hope on that truth.

When Din mentioned taking you to his home, you realized that there was very little keeping you from up and leaving Mandalore in the night. It would be a scandal, it would probably cause an all-out war, but it was worth a try, or at least a dream.

Now, when you had afternoon conversations with Din in the library, you were studying maps of the world. You familiarize yourself with the terrain of Mandalore, how long it might take to get to the Sundari Front, and drawing out escape routes on the backs. Din assumed you had thrown yourself into cartography so you could grasp his stories and adventures fully, which wasn’t altogether false, but it went deeper than that. You tried to keep it under control, but you were slowly becoming more and more consumed by your studies: a recurring issue in your life.

Din hadn’t realized you were becoming obsessed with the geography of the world until about a week after the ball, when you fell asleep by candlelight at a table in the library, your face smushed into the parchment of a map depicting some old blueprints that he had paid no attention to, and your hair falling over your eyes. It was almost dawn, and he had come back from his time with his son already, distressed to see no one had the courtesy to wake you up and take you to your room. He didn’t really expect much else from Mandalore, however.

Din blows out the candle, and gently picks you up, being extra careful not to wake you, and carries you bridal-style out of the library and to your suite. It was these moments that Din looked forward to the most. When he did not have to put on a face, when he did not have a million rules to follow. When your sleepy head rests into his chest, and he can look upon your face with his own eyes, no helmet to obstruct it.

As Din looked upon your resting face, there was much he realized. He first noticed that scar on your body that he hadn’t seen before, and swiped his thumb over it. He also studied the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, how you were perfectly still, and yet completely full of life and beauty and pure goodness as you slept. Din deeply admired how much you cared, how much you cared about everything. The wellbeing of the staff, the customs of Mandalore, him. You threw yourself into your passions, and you had a deep love for the hobbies and aspects of your life that no one else he knew possessed. You were a dedicated person, and he found both attraction and respect ino that.

Din also realized a fundamental truth at the very moment the sky began to lighten up, your cracked balcony doors letting the curtains blow into the suite dreamily. Din felt at peace. It had been so long since he felt peaceful. Too long. He felt the same type of peace here with you that he would normally feel sleeping under the stars with his son nestled to his side. Or the same feeling of peace that he felt when he held his son for the first time. It was a rare feeling, and it was pure. It was so rare that it was only saved for the people most important to him in his life.

You woke up a few hours later, changed out of the pale yellow gown you fell asleep in. Din had not only put you in your nightgown, but had taken the time to pull your hair so it was out of your face. He was more thoughtful than you could have ever imagined. The Knight sits with his back against your door, helmet tilted up at the ceiling, and you wonder if he slept, and why he was not in bed with you. You had invited him several times, and wished he would fulfill the request.

As soon as you sit up in bed, his head lifts, and he stands at attention.

You yawn before speaking, “Were you resting?” You ask, stretching your arms over your head. He shakes his head in response. “What were you doing?” You ask, your arms coming down to rest on your mattress.

“Listening?”

“For?”

He shrugs, “The birds at first, but then it was footsteps. I didn’t want to get caught waiting for you to wake up.” He sighs.

“Well… I wish you would have listened in bed with me.” You glance over at the empty spot next to you. He doesn’t respond, and you are reminded that in many ways, he is still the silent knight you first met from three weeks ago. Din walks over to you, and you smile as he does.

“Did I wake you last night?” He asks, and you were honestly confused about what he was asking. He sensed the confusion, he was always so good at reading you, “When I carried you from the library here?”

“What?” And then you remembered, your eyes blowing wide. “Shit!” You jump out of bed. “What time is it?”

“Uh…”

“Is the rest of the staff awake?” You let your hair down, and slide on the pink satin slippers on the floor of your bed.

“What?”

“Did you bring the map I was studying?” You look up at his emotionless helmet.

“…No?” To be truthful, he didn’t even take the time to glance at the map you studied, he was far too distracted by you.

“Fuck.” You muttered. Din liked it when you swore.

You thought of nothing, and hurried to the door of your suite, swinging it open and marching down the corridor. Din follows you in confusion, trying to catch up to you and bring you back to your room. You’re weary, and just woke up, so you pay no attention to Soniee who passes you in the hallway with your tea, looking at you in confusion, or the maids who were trying to sweep the floor that you scurried over. Din tried to halt you, but was never one to speak unless spoken to, especially not in public and in the presence of others, and felt unable to stop you and ask what was going on. Everyone turned heads to see the future consort in a panic, and were left with questions. Most of them shrugged and ignored it, a few began the rumors.

You practically ran down the stairs, feeling a little out of breath when you finally made it to the doors of the library. The fact that they were closed was still a good sign, and you swing the heavy door open, entering the library with haste. Your heart drops when you see the last person you wanted to this morning: Prince Korkie.

He turns to see the commotion, his eyes are shocked to not only see you out and about this early in the day, but also in your nightgown. He sputters on a ‘Good Morning’, and you don’t even hear it because you’re too panicked to see that he has the map you were reading last night in his hands. You swear in your mind, and your heart falls out of your feet. Din comes hurrying behind you.

“Princess? What is the meaning of this?” He asks, an eyebrow raised, trying to sound chipper as he greeted his fiance. You swallow thickly. Din bows for the prince, and then bends down to whisper in your ear so Korkie can’t hear it.

“Highness, please come back to your room.”

“What? Why?” You say a little too loudly, and before he can reply, the door is opening again with General Vizsla and a group of knights entering.

“Y-your gown.” Din whispers, and you look down to see that it is very sheer, far too sheer to be in the presence of your fiance… and half of the Mandalorian government. You want to shrink from the embarrassment, and notice that Korkie’s eyes are fixed on your chest. What a creep. You fold your arms over your breasts.

“What map do you have there, Prince Korkie?” You ask, trying not to make it seem too obvious that you were clearly in distress, but shaken up by your exposure and the perverted ness of the prince before you. Din wondered what in the world could be so important about that specific map. He stands behind you to cover your back side.

“What is this commotion?” Vizsla asks, interrupting your conversation.

“Nothing, General.” Korkie clears his throat. He turns to you, “Vizsla and I were just about to discuss the plans we have for… the southern border of Corellia.” Korkie awkwardly smiles. You raise an eyebrow.

“Plans?” You ask.

“Yes, you will hear in time.” Vizsla’s obnoxiously nasally voice busts in again. He was always one to unwelcomely invite himself.

You try not to roll your eyes, “And the map, Your Highness?” You repeat yourself, trying not to sound too demanding. You were still a princess, after all.

Korkie nervously chuckles, eyeing the multiple men in the room and shocked by your ambition. He takes a step forward, rolling the map up in his hands as he advances in you and Din’s direction. Din placed a discreet hand on the small of your back, hoping to reassure you. His touch was barely noticeable, but it was enough.

“Princess,” He says, sort of hushed. “You can call me Korkie in front of other people.” It was clear that he had an expectation to fill, and it would be bad on him if his fiance was still addressing him with a title a week before the wedding.

You scoff, “No, I don’t think I will.”

You hold your hand out for the map in defiance, but the prince doesn't hand it to you. He has a dark look in his eyes, one you have never seen before. Din tries to pull back on your bicep, trying to alleviate the situation, but you stay steadfast. “I will take that map now, Your highness.” You bite through the title, wanting it to cut. Korkie lifts his chin with an authoritative look, putting the rolled up map behind his back.

“Get this woman out of my meeting!” He calls out, and turns away. Your face drops, thinking you had the upper-hand, but realize that is taken away from you as two muscular guards pick you up, pulling you away from Din, and walking you out of the library. Korkie always does this, he’s madly in love with you until he’s not. It makes you remember that all of this is probably a ruse for power. Your heart and spirit drop, and you feel nothing but pure disrespect and rage. Din quickly follows. You try to writhe out of the guard’s grasp, not wanting to give up without a fight, but failing miserably. They were both very strong, probably because they had to compensate for how scrawny the Prince is.

“I can take it from here, gentlemen.” Din says, loudly, louder than you usually hear him speak. “I said I can take her!” Din yells when they don’t respond. Then, you hear the indefinite sound of a punch. These guards were still fully armored, but there was no withstanding the strength and brute force of your Knight when you were endangered. The guard Din had punched lets you go as a reaction, and you use it as an opportunity to take your now free hand and twist the wrist of the other guard off of you. All of the self-defense Din had previously taught you paid off in that moment as he yelled out in pain, not expecting your strength or skill. You were taught by the best, after all.

Now that you were free from the clutches of Korkie’s personal guards, you felt Din grab your hand and pull you. The two of you ran through the corridors, down another flight of stairs, and passed the throne room, making sure not to look back in the direction of the library. You ran parallel to the ballroom, and then finally down a final flight of stairs to the foyer of the castle. Din tugs you into a narrow hall, and down a spiral staircase. It was the way to the staff quarters, you remember from the day you went to the ocean. You were shocked and confused about what happened, and truthfully kind of exhausted. You were relieved when Din finally slowed down, and pulled you into Koska’s sister’s room. It was empty, thank the Stars.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them!” Din says and it startles you, but you do it. He pulls his helmet off with haste, tossing it to the floor with a clang. Din places both of his strong hands on either side of your face, pulling you towards him and then kisses you with so much force and hunger that you stumble back in surprise, your eyes cracking open for just a split second. You didn’t see much, because his face was so squished into yours. All you caught a glimpse of was his eyelashes for a millisecond, but that was enough. Din is pushing you against the wall, pinning you to it, and kissing you so hard that you have to pull away to get some air. “I don’t think I have ever been as attracted to you as I was when you stood up to that prick.” He chuckles, and you hum back. Din takes a deep breath before speaking up again, “What was on that map?” He asks, out of breath, too.

You sigh, sort of embarrassed, eyes still shut tightly, “It was the tunnel plans of the castle.”

“What, you mean the blueprints?”

“Yes.” Your eyes stay closed.

“The blueprints that are at least three-hundred years old?”

“Mhm.”

“How did you get your royal hands on those?” Din asks, baffled.

“It doesn’t matter! What does matter is that I made notes on the back of the map!” You blurt, feeling shame, “I wrote the estimated times it would take and which halls to take from my room!” You groan, so badly wanting to open your eyes. You remembered what you said to yourself all those weeks ago, however, reminding yourself that it should be his choice to show you his face and no one else’s. You sigh, “The Prince isn’t stupid! I’m sure he thinks I’m plotting something now!” You hope you don’t sound too panicked, but if you were being honest, you were. Din sighs, clearly frustrated, although you weren’t sure if he was sexually or emotionally… or a little bit of both. “I’m sorry.” You sigh, your hands coming up and searching for his shoulders. “I should not have been so careless.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You weren’t expecting him to agree with you, he usually doesn’t. He takes a calming breath, “…Are you plotting something?” He asks, his eyes moving between your closed eyelids in search of a non-verbal answer that he’ll never receive.

You don’t want to answer, but know you don’t have a choice. “Yes.” You feel guilty after saying it, although you aren’t sure why. Din exhales deeply this time. “But listen! We could run! I don’t have to stay here! We can fix this! We can get into Coruscant and they’ll never come looking for us, and then we can go to Nevarro, go to your home! We’ll take your son-“

“Rue.”

“What?”

“My son, his name is Rue.”

Rue. It was simple, to the point, just like Din’s. You liked it. “We’ll take Rue! Please, Din, we need to! It will be the only way we will ever be happy!” Your thumbs rub into the thick skin of his neck. You didn’t mean to vomit so much information on him at once, but he didn’t really give you an option.

He exhales deeply, and you know he’s processing everything you just told him. “We can’t”

“Why not?”

“Because!” He yells and it scares you. You drop your hands, your heart rate rising. A lump grows in your throat and you silently curse your emotions for betraying you. You swallow back a tear. He walks away from you and you hear the helmet pick up from off the floor. He puts it back on his head, and you know from practice and instinct when to open your eyes. When you do, he’s sitting on the chest at the end of the bed, his head dropped and hands pressed to the edge of the wood by his sides. You frown, and walk over to him. Din pushes his head into your abdomen, and you hold him there, just existing in not-so-comfortable silence. It’s tense, and not the type of tension that you usually like to experience with I’m.

He’s surprisingly the one to speak up, however. “We can’t… because Bo will hunt me and kill me and Rue and you… she’ll kill everything I love.” His voice cracks at the same time your heart does. Did he actually…

“Not to mention the war between our kingdoms it will start. Corellia can’t support itself in a war. We both know that.” Din sighs, maybe he was telling himself this just as much as he was telling you.

You sigh. He was right and you knew it, but it didn’t keep you from wanting to run away with him any less. “Din…” He looks up at you. “We have to get that map from Korkie.” You say, more stern but still comforting this time. His head tilts in question. You sigh, feeling guilty. “I wrote something else on it.” You look away from him, your eyes trailing. His hand reaches up to grab your chin, pulling your head to look right at him. Your eyebrows furrow. “Directions to your home.” The atmosphere in the room changes. You can feel it. “I know I shouldn’t have, I know it puts Rue in danger, but it gives us all the more reason to get that map back from Korkie as soon as possible.” His hand drops from your chin. You felt terrible.

“Okay, okay. We can check the library again and… if it’s not there we’ll go confront him. We’ll get it tonight.” He nods.

“Are you sure? What if he reads it?” You were surprised how lax he was, but something told you that he was controlling himself from his true emotions.

“As far as I’m concerned, the Prince has no reason to cause me or my family any harm.” He nods.

“Not yet.”

—

You swallow, your face inches away from the door of the Prince’s bedroom. Din was around the corner of the corridor, both of you knew this was something you would have to do on your own, without his support. You had never been here before, and after ample search in the library for the map all afternoon, there was no other option. It was late, but not inappropriately late. You wore that same dress you wore weeks ago, the soft blue one that was off the shoulder one that adorned your figure elegantly. It was one of the most sophisticated gowns in your closet. More mature than most of the flowy princess ballgowns. It was a diplomatic but still ethereal fashion choice, which you desperately needed after a humiliating encounter this morning. The scar on your shoulder from the endeavor in Keldabe had mostly healed, and only had a pale pink to it. You looked back at Din, who was peering around the corner, for some reassurance. He nodded, and you took a deep breath. Two knocks would be enough. The door swings open, and you are suddenly very aware that you would have to brave this encounter without the support of your trusted Knight. Korkie is who answers the door, and he looks mildly unamused to see you.

“Princess?” He tilts his head.

“Evening, I hope it is not too late?” You suggest, keeping your voice as monotone and unwelcoming as possible. You wanted him to know that you were here for a serious matter.. You noticed he was covering the door with his body, perhaps he was hiding something from you too.

“For my fiance? Never.” You hated being called that, but if it was what it took for him to invite you into the room,you could deal with it. Korkie’s room was large, it was far more spacious than yours. It had a billowing fireplace and sitting area, the ceilings twice the height of your suite’s, and a private library pushed into the northeast corner. You familiarize yourself with your surroundings, and the heir closes the door behind you. You silently scanned the room for the map, you would have to snatch it up without it being suspicious, and you could not explicitly ask for it again. “What do I owe this honor?” He says from behind, charming as usual, although his words did seem a bit slurred. You see that an opened book sat on the seat of a chair in the sitting area. He must have been reading before you interrupted him. You turn around, and lift your chin, trying to look and sound as put together and unsuspecting as possible.

You clear your throat, “I wanted to apologize for this morning.” You nod. It wasn’t true, but you had rehearsed with Din several times the best way to stall time as you looked for the map, and this was the best way of going about. “It was inappropriate behavior, especially in front of the General.” You disagreed with your own words, and felt bad lying, but it came so naturally when done to the Prince.

Korkie sighs, and crosses over the room, looking up at a portrait above the fireplace. Your eyes still searched for your map, but had no clue where it might be. This was your first time here, after all. “Worry not, Highness.” Korkie downs a bit of brandy that was sitting for him. You didn’t like him when he was drunk.

“You’re sure?” You figured that would have made conversation more natural, but he clearly was not in the mood for propriety. He pours another drink, and even pours one for you, offering it. You shake your head and mutter a ‘no thank you’, not really wanting to get drunk tonight. Din wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk. You admired that he respected you that much, but it also deprived you of the one thing worth all the pomp and circumstance. Korkie shrugs and drinks both, and you’re frankly appalled by this conduct.

“Indeed.” He hiccups. “Everyone loves a little show.” He chuckles, and you frown. Was that all your humiliation was to him? A show? “Now, Princess,” He takes a step towards you, and you feel so unprotected. Din would have stepped in by now, you knew that. You didn’t have the same sense of security you usually had when he wasn’t at your side. “Why did you really come here?” He asks, running his hand through his hair.

“Excuse me?” You nervously laugh. How did he figure any of this out? You take steps back that mirror his, trying to keep the same amount of distance between him and you but struggling to when you hit the post of his bed, your back flush against it. Your hands wrap around the wood working, and you look up at him nervously. You felt the same as you didn’t when you were cornered and harassed in the slum of Keldabe. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat, trying to solve something, anything. Where could that cursed map be?

“Don’t-“ He says through gritted teeth, he catches himself from lashing out, and collects his composure before speaking again. “Don’t assume I am blind.”

“I would never-“

“Liar!” He spits out and you flinch back. He laughs a few times, it’s that evil, frustrated laugh. It was the type of laugh that people do when they’re trying to calm themselves down, but in turn they simply seem more angry. You were genuinely scared, unsure of what to do in this situation. “What were the directions you wrote on the back of the map?” He asks, and you furrow your brows.

“I don’t know what you mean?” This was partially true. How did he not understand the very neat and clear directions on the back of the blueprints to the secret passages? And in all curiosity, why did he care?

Korkie grunts again. “You are foolish.” He was dangerously close to you, and you wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible. You wanted Din to come protect you, you needed him to. “Are you forgetting who you belong to?” His hand sets on your hip, and you flinch again.

“I belong to no one.” You defy.

“You belong to me.” He grits his jaw again. You closed your eyes out of instinct due to the sheer anger and tension in his tone. His breath smelled of alcohol, and you wished you had the authority to slap him. He laughs his chuckle of malice again, and then before you can blink, he leans in for a kiss. How could he? How could he take advantage of your vulnerable state like this? Your blood boiled, and just in time, you dodge his lips. You swoop under his arm, away from the bedpost and back to the security of a full room you can avoid him in. He looks at you, clearly appalled. You were dizzy, probably from adrenaline. You wished this was surprising, but it was the exact thing you expected The Prince to do. This is when you noticed the map was rolled up and on the floor beside the fireplace. The new perspective of the room is what made you see it. Had he intended to burn it?

“You know,” You say as you take a step towards the map, “You should have another drink.” You offer. “You’re clearly tense,” You stepped between each phrase, “And it would be better for everyone.” Somewhere deep down you wanted to believe that Korkie was only acting this way because he was drunk. But you knew it wasn’t true. You realized that everything inside of you was looking for a redeemable quality in him, a reason to stay perhaps. You wanted to believe he was worth staying for, but you knew that he wasn’t, not when everything you’ve ever wanted was just outside the door.

Before Korkie can take another step towards you, you’re bolting towards the map, snatching it up in your hands and then running towards the door. The adrenaline shoots through your veins, and it only grows when you hear him growl again and his heavy footsteps run after you. You have to physically hold yourself back from squealing in stress, your hand slapping over your mouth. You rip the door open, and try slamming it behind you, but Korkie’s arm is caught in the door, and you smash it. He cries out, and the commotion makes Din run down the hall towards you to check what was going on. Korkie was able to get a hand on the collar of your dress, and he tries to pull you back in, but your strength is enough to get away. You ran to Din, who looked concerned, you could tell by his stance alone. He was tense and his hands balled in fists at his side.

Korkie pulls open the door, holding his arm to his chest, and you look back, your heart racing. You are so relieved when you make it to Din, and you grab his hand, threading your fingers into his and pulling him down the hall in the same fashion he did early that day. Several guards who heard the heir’s yell were running in all directions, but none of them paid any attention to you, thank the stars.

You think you are crying, but you aren’t sure. You felt raw fear being alone with the Prince. You never wanted to be alone with him again, never.

You keep running nonsense in the castle, not really sure where you’re going but wanting to be anywhere other than there. Din is the one to stop you after the mindless escape, pulling you into a branching hallway and against an unsightly window. He grabs both of your arms, and pulls you flush against his chest. He holds you there for a long time, and you both get a chance to catch your breath. You cry into the beskar chestplate, and feel rather foolish for reacting as such. Din was silent, and just held you, his strong arms wrapped around you as tightly as they could be.

“What did he do to you?” He asks, and you sigh out pathetically. Din repeats his question, still calm and gentle, but more urgent.

“I-I was so scared.” You stutter. Din somehow squeezes you tighter after you say this. After you collect yourself a little more, you can speak again, “he was drink-“

“Did he… touch you?”

You weren’t sure why you felt like you were in trouble, but aggressively reminded yourself that Din would never be upset with you, at least not for something like this. “Yes… But not very much, he just touched my hip and leaned in to kiss me.”

“Did he?”

“No!” You say almost defensively, “I got away just in time.” You pull away and look up at him with teary eyes. His hand comes up, and he pulls the glove off. His bar hand caresses your flushed face, swiping a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry-“

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” You breathe out shakily. “For crying I guess? For letting the map get away? For letting him touch me-“ You try to look away but his fingers catch your chin again, pulling your gaze back onto his helmet.

“Stop that. It’s not your fault. He is disgusting for doing that.” Din nods, and you swallow a sob. “Do you understand?” He asks, and you slowly nod once. “And promise me, that you’ll never ever blame yourself for anything like that ever again, okay?” You nod again. “Promise me!” He wasn’t angry or forceful, just steadfast with his words. He meant what he was saying.

“I promise.” You mutter. After you reply you hear his exhale in his armor. He pulls you against his chest again, and you can feel it move with each breath. You wished you could hear his heartbeat again like you could when you wake up next to him. You’re able to finally relax, and his embrace was the most calming thing you had ever experienced.

“I was worried sick about you.” He says, far more soft spoken than his remarks before. You didn’t verbally reply, but he was able to read how you felt. “I don’t like you being alone with him.”

“Me neither.” You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and letting the final few tears fall out of your lashes. “All the more reason to leave.” He tenses after you say it, and his arms loosen a bit around your shoulders.

“You really want to?” He asks, you nod against his chest. “You know the possible consequences? This could mean the destruction of Corellia.”

“I know. That’s why it’s so hard. I don’t know what to do. I know what I want, and that is to leave here with you, but I don’t want my own selfishness to risk the lives of thousands who I vowed to protect.” You pull your head away from his chest.

��You… really want to live a life with me?” He asks, almost oblivious to your prior remark. You nod nod, or even say yes, but you just look up at him in all seriousness, hoping it would be enough.

It was.

“You don’t even know what I look like.” His arms drop. Did he think you a fool for that?

“We…” You debate your words, “We can change that.” You close your eyes, hoping that it would mean something to him, and maybe it did, but just as always, he didn’t show it. He just takes his cursed, gloveless hand and tilts your chin up to see him.

“In time we will, but only when it is right.” He nods.

It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but it was enough. It was more than anything he had ever given you before.

“Come on,” Din says gently, “There’s something I want to show you.” He beckons with his head down the hall, and you follow, interlocking your fingers with his again, the map in your other hand. You weren’t really sure how he was able to be so calm and reassuring, especially without showing an ounce of emotion through all of it, but it was a Godsend. You weren’t sure if Din loved you, at least not in the same way you loved him, but you were sure that he cared about you, and he wanted you to be safe and happy. And that was all you needed, for now.

“Had he read the map?” Din asks as you walk down a flight of stairs, descending the various levels of the palace and undoubtedly heading for the staff quarters again.

“I believe so.” You sigh, “Although he seemed confused about it. I think he was a little too drunk to fully comprehend, or he was giving me the benefit of the doubt.” You shrug.

“Well, at least we have it now, right?” Din asks, his head slightly turning back to look at you as he says it, and you give a nervous but relieved smile in response. The two of you loop through halls, and you’re very aware of how much the castle is winding down. Staff have retired for the night, doors were closed, even the usual laughter coming from parlors or the ballroom was silenced. Was it really that late? You didn’t really have much of a perception of time anymore after everything that had just happened.

The one part of the castle that was full of life, however, was the staff quarters. As you got closer, you could hear the usual laughter, and warm, welcoming light poured from the low corridor. Music played, it was loud, and your eyes searched for the spectacle that was just awaiting you.

“You said you wanted to get to know the staff better…”

“I did?” You ask.

“A few nights ago, you were really tired, you might not remember.” He shrugged. You didn’t really care whether or not you really said those things, what stuck out to you, however was that Din remembered that. He was observant enough to remember specific phrases you said, and not any phrases, the ones that were sleepy and probably full of nonsense. You would lie if you said you didn’t gush over that a little.

Din takes you into the staff common room, and it’s all clear. The warm smells, the enticing light, the infectious laughter, it all came from the whole castle staff crammed into this one room. There was food, and everyone laughed and danced to the music that a handful of staff members played. Their instruments were humble, probably retired from the royal orchestra years ago, but you could tell there were fond memories and stories linked with every single one. It was hot, and there were a lot of people crammed into the room. The doors were wide open, and the tables were pushed back against the walls so that the floor could be opened to a large and intricate group dance. It was nothing like the pompous dances that the nobility did at the ball, however. This dance was filled with joy, and mistakes were not only welcomed, but celebrated. Expression was the center of the party, and all types of people were involved. Children who were up far past their bedtime joined in the festivities, dancing and laughing and chasing one another, elderly staff sat at the tables, clapping along to the folk music, and the servants who usually give you sour tea and hot bread had their shoes off, jumping on the stone floor of the common area. Some of the knights and guards had their helmets on like Din usually did, and others did not. You realized it really probably boiled down to personal preference, or duty.

You smiled at the spectacle, and it gave you a deep and undeniable sense of community and love. You quickly learned that the livelihood of the castle did not rest in the parties and rules that an uptight Queen set in place, but the very people who made the castle work smoothly.

The laughter and joy was contagious, and you couldn’t stop yourself from joining the fun. You jump into the dance, not sure of the steps, but picking up your ridiculous skirt and starting anyways. You hoped it wasn’t obvious that you had been crying a half hour before, but no one paid any attention if it was. The women in the circle linked their arms with yours, and you spun in a circle. The one to your right couldn’t have been older than fifteen, and she yelled over the noise how to do the footsteps. You couldn’t really hear her, but looked down at her feet and tried to mimic it. You had the cheesiest smile on your face, and the room spun as you danced. Din crosses over to a wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms, watching you.

After that dance finished, another song started, and the moves were rather different. However, a girl pulled you out of the circle, and tugged on your dress. “It’s too big!” She shouts over the music, “You’ll never make it through the next song!” You nod and then walk over to a table. You stand on top of the table after a few jumbled ‘excuse me’s’. You were sure everyone recognized you, but they didn’t treat you differently for one moment. It was… refreshing. You kicked your shoes off, and several people turned to look at you, some cheered, others laughed. You then bite your bottom lip and pull the strings of the corset you wore, loosening it enough to slip out of your crinoline and ruffled-slip, leaving you in nothing but your undergarment petticoat and the top layer of the gown you were wearing. There was laughter, and you didn’t hear or see Din chuckle. You swayed your hips, and after a playful “huzzah!” from the crowd, a few knights helped you off the table. You immediately return to the dance circle, and you’re able to move much easier. You’re thrown back into the stimulating dance. The woman was right, this was much more physical, jumping and kicking was done and it was far more exciting than any of the proper waltzes you had spent your life dedicating time to.

You step out after two more songs, trying to catch your breath and wiping the sweat off your brow. There was alcohol, just hooch, but a bearded man gave you a big mug and you happily chugged it down. Din was impressed with your ability to consume so much so quickly. The men all cheered and hollered as you downed the drink, also impressed with the skill. You didn’t know you could do it, either.

A game of cards is being played, and you’re roped into that, too. You bet some money (money you didn’t have) and helped a tired, old man who usually worked in the stables play, after a few tough rounds, and struggling to learn the rules as you played, you won the pot for the old man. Three other much younger boys who usually worked at the front gate looked in shock as you pulled the money towards you and the man. He laughed and thanked you for your help.

Some little girls examined your crinoline and corset, a few older women all pinched your cheeks, and a fat man gave you a huge helping of mashed potatoes and greens. You got to overeat shamelessly, and it felt so rewarding after weeks of eating like a bird in fear of being judged by your in-laws. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world to be treated normally. You caught a glimpse of Soniee, who braided a boy’s hair. You even noticed that Koska was there, the center of one of the dance circles, swaying her skirt to the beat with another girl, the two dancing together in a vibrant duet of culture and community. Your feet only began to hurt when you were pulled to dance again, and your cheeks ached from smiling so wide. It was the most alive and accepted you had ever felt in Mandalore.

At one point, you found yourself just a few feet away from Din in the dance. You hold your hands out for him, beckoning him to join. “Dance with me!” You shout out. Before you get an answer, however, you're pulled back into the center of the group. It isn’t for a few more cycles and bars of the song that you’re back out by him. “Please?” You try to be as enticing as possible. He shakes his head, his hand coming up to decline. You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t dance!” He yells back. You roll your eyes and step out of the group momentarily. You grab both of his hands, your face with the cheesiest smile ever, and pull him onto the floor. He tries to fight back, but ultimately loses.

“Yes you do!” You reply, yelling as loud as possible so he might be able to hear you. “You proved it to me last week!” You say and in perfect time, your arms go up together with the beat of the song. He hadn’t done this dance before, but has watched it enough times to know what’s going on, although he looked rather awkward and foolish doing so. You grab his hand, your hips turning left to right in time, and you look down at your bodies, trying to show him as best as you can.

“I have no idea what’s going on!” Din yells at one point, the two of you now in the heart of the party.

“Me neither!” You laugh, “That’s what’s so wonderful about it!” Then came the part of the dance to clap your hands, the two of you clapping up by your face, and mirroring one another. “Now you’re getting the hang of it!” You nod. He rolls his eyes, and is thankful you can’t see it. It would be horrible for his reputation if anyone knew that he was having even a little fun, especially because it was with you. Din doesn’t usually come to these parties. They happen most Saturday nights, but he runs home to his son. Tonight, however, it was important to him that you got to experience it, especially after everything that happened earlier today.

You both start getting the hang of it, and Din mentally thanks his helmet for hiding the smile on his face. Your feet grapevine, and then you both jump. Everyone hoots and hollers, it’s part of the dance. Suddenly, the both of you are in the middle of the dance circle in the same way that Koska was with her partner a few songs ago, and you’re leading the spiral. You can’t wipe the darkish smile off your face and genuinely can’t believe you got him out here.

“Atta boy, Djarin!” Koska yells from a table, standing up and toasting a Ming of hooch. The music picked up in preparation for the big finish. Din and you spun around one another, your bodies coming flush until your palms press flat, your faces only inches apart. You always thought playing off of one another in a dance was important for the emotion during a waltz, but a fancy three-step had nothing on the emotion and passion put into a dance such as this. Somehow, you could still play off of him, and the performance was one of shared respect and assurance. Despite never having seen his face, you got the Knight, you understood him in a way no one ever did. The song ends, the two of you real close to one another, and out of breath. The entire room roared in joy as they cheered for the both of you, and you looked up at the visor of his helmet.

“I want to kiss you!” He yells, and although his request is very clear, no one can hear it over the volume of the room.

“Then kiss me!” You reply. You didn’t give a damn if every servant of the Mandalorian royal family saw it. He laughs, you feel it, and then he’s pulling his helmet up.

He just reveals his lips, but you look upon them with no shame, admiring the way his Cupid’s bow dipped, and the scruff on his jawline. You smiled wide, and he smiled back. You feel honored to share this moment with him. Everyone around you was so loud, and they were cheering for both you and Din. You couldn’t believe how many of them knew his name as they called it out in encouragement.

Din’s free hand wraps around your waist, and pulls it in tight to him forcefully, you blush at the gesture, and the crowd “ooh’s” flirtily at it. Din Djarin then kisses you. He pulls your body into his soft lips and you sigh into it and it;s too quiet for him to hear but as soon as your lips meet, the crowd of staff disappears. Their cheers blur together, and fade out. Your lips move together passionately, and you do so with no shame. He groans against you, and you can feel it more than you can hear it, and it’s all you ever wanted.

For weeks now you just wanted to share your love with him publicly, and now that you have, you’re aware of how personal your love with him really is.

The crowd fades back in, everyone laughing in support and amusement. Your lips softly party and you grin from ear to ear. Din does too, shameless for once. His teeth are nice and straight. Oh God, you loved his smile.

Oh Stars, you loved him.

“Din!” You yell out. “I love you!” It was time to say it, because it was true. You meant it and as you say it, giggle.

“What?”

“I love you!” It’s so loud that you’re even sure if he can’t hear it, you can barely hear it yourself. But, in classic Din Djarin fashion, he doesn’t answer. He was never good with words, and was much better at showing you what was on his mind. He kisses you again, just as passionately, but this time it’s a series of short, quick pecks on your lips that get progressively more sloppy. He smiles into each kiss and you feel those magic butterflies again.

The rest of the night is a dreamy blur, Din dances the whole time with you, the music eventually slows, you notice that there are less and less kids in the common room. It winds down, and your feet ache in the best way. An ache that would be associated with happy memories. It was long past midnight when you decided to stop dancing, and a lone fiddler is all who was left in the band, playing a ballad to end the night. There was still soft laughter, and a few stragglers who slowly danced to the music. Din was one of the few who were still playing cards, one of his fellow knights challenging him to a game. Din was always up for a challenge, and both he and the man he played against looked deep in thought. You realized you were finally able to read him through all that beskar, and he was far more reactive than you ever would have known if you weren’t looking for it. Your cheek sits in your palm, and your eyes are heavy, but you watch him fondly from across the room. Koska sits next to you, handing you a cup of water.

“You had fun.” She hums, taking a sip out of her own cup.

You nervously laugh in response, she wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t realize how connected you all were.” You say with a sigh before taking a sip of the water and being so relieved to finally get some hydration after all of the energy you exerted.

“Yeah…” Koska was in her typical undisturbed mood, relaxed and observant. “These are the people of Mandalore.” She sighs, “They are what we really represent. We aren’t all about war and decoration, there’s so much more to us that the world doesn’t see.” You were touched by that remark, because you had seen it too. “The truth that’s hard for all of us to believe is that the rest of the world only respects us to stay on our good side.” Her voice drops a little. She looks at you, her eyes heavy as always. You aren’t sure how to respond, because it was true. Koska takes another sip before changing the subject, “I’ve never seen him dance before.” She nods towards Din. “At least not like that.” She laughs into her cup.

You smile, “I didn’t think he had it in him.” You tease.

“He wouldn’t have if you weren’t there.” Koska shrugs. “He’s like a whole different person around you. It’s refreshing.”

“He told me about everything that happened.” You reply. “With him and Bo.”

“He did? I don’t think he’s really talked to anyone about it.”

“He just told me last week, after the ball.” You nod. “I had no idea… but it all makes sense in the end.” You finish off the last of your water as his card game finishes, the few people watching cheering as Din lays down his cards and wins. The other knight, whose face was also covered by a heavy, beskar helmet slammed his fist down on the table in defeat. Din took the money that was on the bet.

“He’s better because of you.” Koska says, smiling as he wins. “I’ve had to look out for him in a way for a long time, he’s one of my oldest friends.” She speaks of him fondly. “But I feel like he doesn’t need me as much anymore, now that you can keep an eye out for him.” Koska turns to look a t you, but you don’t notice it. “You love him?”

“I do.” You nod. “Well… I think I do.” You sigh, “I don’t really know what love is I suppose, but I believe how I feel about him is the closest thing to it.” You shrug. “And I’m totally fucked because of it.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Koska explains, “I’ve never been in love either.”

“Really?” You ask, mildly shocked in all honesty. Koska nods. “There’s no one special in your life?”

“Well, there’s one girl.” Koska begins, “But my feelings towards her are more of an… obligation, I suppose.”

“I used to worry that’s how Din felt about me.” You admit.

“Oh trust me,” She chuckles once, “It isn’t like that for him at all.” She hums and you sigh in response, you sit in comfortable silence for a moment after that before Koska speaks up again, “What are you gonna do?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” You admit, turning to look at her, “But now that the majority of the castle staff has seen us kiss, I need to think of something.”

“That was pretty stupid, by the way.” Koska rolls her eyes.

You chuckle, “I suppose it was…” Din starts walking back to you, “But I can’t seem to care. I’m sick of hiding from everyone.” Din makes it to the two of you, and you smile as you look up at him.

“It’s not much,” He holds out the money before pocketing it, “But Rue will be happy.” He laughs and holds a hand out for you to take. “How drunk is she?” He asks Koska.

“She’s fine-“

“I only had one drink!” You roll your eyes, knowing that your night with Din will end very quickly if you were drunk. You take his hand and he hoists you up with him.

“Hm… that’s what you said the other night.”

“She’s okay, maybe a little tipsy but nothing keeping her from holding a perfectly normal conversation.” Koska says to Din, knowing full well why he even asked, a smirk plasters on her face.

“Come on.” Din hums, and pulls you down one of the various halls that branch from the common room, but not the one that both of you were familiar with because of your aid from Koska.

Din leads you through the candle-lit halls, and into a small bedroom. It was cramped, and there was barely enough room for the both of you, but it was cozy. He lit an oil lamp, and it illuminated the room just enough. Din slowly pulls off his helmet, and it’s so dim that you can’t really see anything like normal, but you can make out faint features and the light in his eyes. It was enough. He started to take off his armor too, and you patiently waited with your back against the outerwall that the window was in. He sets the chestplate and pauldrons in a neat pile on the foot of the bed, and kicks his boots off. His arm comes up to rub his neck, and he stretches a few times. He pulls the chainmail up over his head, leaving him in the same peasant blouse and trousers that he wore at the beach all those days ago. You would never get used to how trim his waist was, and how broad his shoulders were. He turns around, and has a smile on his face. You wished you could see him in the light. Din runs his hands through his thick curls and then steps towards you. You close the gap and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for an innocent kiss.

“Thank you.” You mutter.

“What for?”

“For bringing me here tonight… for being with me.” You sigh, and look up at him lovingly. He sighs, and kisses you again. Din starts to deepen the kiss, and you moan into his lips. He was a good kisser, that was for sure.

[SMUT BEGINS HERE]

Din wastes no time, he picks you up by the thighs, lifting you on his waist so you’re kissing down into him, and before you know it, he’s kissing your jaw. Din had learned your body, he knew the sweet spot on your jaw, and always knew just how long he could suck on it before it became a hickey. He never crossed that line, he knew when to stop, but how badly you wanted him to mark you up so Korkie could see, you wanted everyone to see who you loved and why. His strong hands bunch up your skirt, and lift it up so your ass could be uncovered. His arms hold you, and he stumbles back until he falls on the bed in the room. You straddle the knight and get comfortable on his lap. You can feel his hard-on growing, and you’ll never get over the confidence boost that gives you. You start to tentatively rub your hips so that you grinned down into him. You get a sting of pleasure through your spine, and you’re already getting wet. Because you were down in the lower level of the palace, and was totally isolated from most people with thick, stone walls, you take advantage of the opportunity to make noise. You moan into Din’s mouth, and he holds his lips apart for you. His breath against your face was enough alone to drive you crazy, and your fingers twist around the strands of curly, brown hair that sit at the nape of his neck.

Din’s thick, calloused fingers find their way between your legs from the back, and he starts to gently run his fingertips through your slick folds. You gasp at the feeling, he was so gentle with every move. He starts to moan as well as your hips grind further into him in search for more friction and pleasure, and the sound of his voice unobstructed by the beskar is your favorite sound in the whole world. Din settles into his seat, and he pulls you forward onto him. This allows your hips to lift up just enough that he can insert a finger through your cunt. He starts pumping his wrist immediately, fingering you. You pulled your lips away from him, and sat up straight. You throw your head back with a moan, and then bring your hands to the tucked in portion of your shirt. You pull it up over your head, and wriggle out of the slip that kept you clothed. You were finally naked, and you took your free hands and squeezed each nipple. Between the feeling of Din’s fingers deep inside of you, his growing-bulge rutting against your clit, and the added pinch of your nipples, you were already in a euphoric bliss that didn’t take long to reach.

“Din-“ you moan his name, which he loved. He’s eager, and isn’t afraid to show it. Din pulls his cock out from his trousers, and he lets you grind against the tip. You keep it from going in, trying to tease him in the same way that he did the morning after the ball. It was really just driving you over the edge, really, and so before you let his swollen tip prod at your slickness anymore, you steady yourself on his broad shoulders, and take a deep breath before sinking down onto him. Both of you moan out when you do, and he throws his head back, exposing a thick cord of muscle in his neck. You bend down to nip at his adam’s apple before suckling into his tan skin, making sure to leave a massive, purple bruise on the middle of his neck. You bottom out as you do this, and the sensation shoots up your body. You liked being on top for the sheer fact that it gave you a different angle. Din’s length was pressing up into you now, and he filled you up delightfully. Your favorite feeling in the world was being stuffed by him like this.

You could feel every inch of him as you lifted your hips up, you were so wet and it was already such a loud, obscene noise. You kept sucking hickeys into him, and your hands moved from his neck down to the hem of his blouse. You grab the sheer fabric, and pull it up over his head so that Din is finally as shirtless as you. His huge hands stay on your ass, squeezing the fat there and using his own strength to lift you up and down on his cock. It’s slow at first, but it allows the both of you to really savor the feeling of one another. You scratch your fingernails down his pecs, scratching at his abdomen, and then finally trailing in between your legs to circle at your clit as the pace picked up. You lean forward to rest your glistening forehead on his bare shoulder, and your bare chests press into one another.

Din begins to thrust his hips up, and before you know it, you’re bounding on his cock. It’s fast and hard and your weight is slamming you down on to him over and over again with no end in sight. It’s painful in a good way, the same type of ache that would have good memories and passion attached to it. You knew your core would be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it as Din’s huge cock runs against your g-spot over and over again inside of you. Your fingers speed up on your clit, and you bite down on Din’s shoulder muscle to keep from being too loud. He’s grunting and growling and is absolutely feral and the noises eliciting off of his kiss-swollen lips are needy yet dominate at the same time. You could get drunk on his breathy-sighs, his voice as dark and husky as always.

“That’s it,” He groans into your ear, you moan in response to his words. You loved when he was vocal because it was so rare that he actually was. “Are you gonna cum on my fucking cock, Princess?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You pathetically moan.

“Fuck-“ he groans, and then shifts his position. Suddenly, the two of you are standing up, and the way his length moves and twitches inside of you as he stands up pulls an involuntary moan from your lips. Din lifts you up with his arms, arching his torso back so that you can lean on him. He then gets right back at the task at hand: chasing your orgasm. It was close, you could feel it, and somehow Din seemed to have more energy and strength in this position. He lifted you up and down on his cock, and your arms found their place wrapped back around his neck, desperately trying to hold yourself up as he absolutely tears into you. He was so big, you keep forgetting how thick he is until his swollen and hard cock is filling you up like you were only made for this exact thing.

He must have gotten tired, you could tell not only by the sheen layer of sweat on his chest, but he pulled you off of himself, and threw you onto the bed. You giggle at the forceful contact, and like being tossed around in bed. It made you feel small, and it really showed his strength. Din pumps his leaking cock a few times, kneeling in front of you and pulling your legs apart. You bite your lip out of lust before he slaps the head of his length on your cunt a few times. The sound is so dirty, and it makes you even wetter.

“Stars, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He bites his lip, slapping his cock harder against you. “Can you hear that? Can you hear how fucking wet that pussy is?” He asks you. Stars, he was good at this.

“Yes… so wet for you.” You sigh, your hand coming down to play with your clit again. Din mutters a ‘that’s right’ before he slides himself through your folds a few times again before pushing into you one more, and he doesn’t hold back. His hands find their way to your hips, and he presses them down into the bed as hard as he can, pinning you in place. He starts to pound into you, and it knocks the wind out of you because of how abrupt and forceful it is. You can’t even really make noise to show how good it was, and instead a few strangled and helpless cries pull from your throat.

“Do you fantasize about my cock when you’re with your fiance? Hm? Does it turn you on knowing that you’re cheating on him?” He asks, and you can finally moan out. He was right, he knew you would say yes.

“Yes!” You say, “I can’t stop thinking about your cock!” You reply, your voice high-pitched and so needy.

“Do you think about me fucking this pussy like a bitch on my cock when you’re in important meetings?” He asks again. There was something about the disrespect that you loved, it only made things better.

“Yes sir!” You cry. Din chuckles and then smacks your ass cheek. His slamming into you so hard that you can’t believe he hasn’t gotten tired yet. You can see how his muscles flex against the moonlight and your core is aching from the knight but it’s all worth it. “I’m gonna cum!” You warm, arching your back in pleasure. Din then spits on your cut, adding to the hot wetness and dirty sounds, and he pulls your fingers away from your clit and replaces them with his.

“Cum with me,” He groans, and almost immediately, you’re cumming on his leaking cock at the same time that he does. He cums so much, and you’re always surprised by it. His load drips down your folds, and he fucks you through it. It’s filthy and you want to keep doing it for the rest of your life. Your arms come up to grasp his biceps, trying to steady yourself on anything. Din moans loud when he cums, and it isn’t until he starts softening inside of you that he quits thrusting. He doesn’t pull out, however, and he stays stuffed inside of you as he catches your breath. You’re fucked-out, your eyes heavy and breasts heaving with each deep breath that tries to calm your heart rate. “I love cumming in you.” He sighs. You already knew that, but you loved how he told you. He goes to pull out, but your thighs squeeze together, holding him in place.

“Stay inside.” You whine. Din tilts his head.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He bends down to kiss your forehead, and then very carefully and slowly turns the two of you so that he is spooning you, his cock still buried inside your dripping and swollen cunt. “You did good, you did so good.” He kisses your neck as he says these, breathing in deep your scent. “S’good… so good.” He catches his breath, and is just as exhausted as you are, if not more. His chest heaves against your back, and his arms pull you against him. You fight against sleep, but ultimately fail, submitting to rest almost immediately after Din pulls the blanket over the both of you. Just before you fall asleep, you hear him mumble something against your neck, although you aren’t sure what it is.

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part fifteen

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ahtsumu · 4 years

Text

the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!”

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.”

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.)

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou scenarios #kuroo tetsurou imagines #haikyuu!!

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owlheartt · 3 years

Text

Star Sanses Extended Chapter 3: Error

Here is chapter 1 on AO3

“YOU CAN’T-” Undyne began, her face furrowing together in a sort of pure anger that felt very unlike her.

“PLEASE, WAIT FOR EVERYTHING TO CALM DOWN. MY FRIENDS AND I CAN EXPLAIN IN A BIT, BUT I CAN’T STAY HERE TALKING TO YOU.” Papyrus said, trying to be patient and not show how unnerved he was. It occurred to him that talking to Alphys might help her some, and he used blue magic to carefully grab her SOUL. Then, with full concentration, moved the blue bones and Undyne herself to the blubbering Alphys in the corner who had stayed where Papyrus had asked her to.

Behind him, he could hear a sound almost like a soft gust of wind. Turning around, he found Mettaton’s body collapsed on the floor. There were bones sticking out of his middle, solid ones. His arms looked burnt, like he had been hit with a Gaster Blaster and deflected it using them. Dream and Ink didn’t have blasters or bones, Dream had told him earlier. Therefore, Papyrus could assume Error had done this. Papyrus looked at the black boned skeleton. He had a scratchy grin scrawled across his face, and his expression was comically like a cartoon villain’s.

“Drreeaamyyy boyyy!” Error said, taunting. His voice was glitching in such a way that it sounded like an old radio’s version of nails on chalkboard. Dream threw a mourning glance at Mettaton’s crumpled body, which felt mildly excessive since he had only run out of battery.

“Error! Please! Leave this timeline alone!” Dream begged, stringing another arrow. He didn’t sound exactly desperate, more like he didn’t want to deal with any of these shenanigans.

“Pretty please?” Ink called from the ceiling, blinking his eye sockets and grinning.

“Can it squid!” Error said, his voice no longer sounding so ear-grating.

“FRIEND…” Papyrus trailed off, struggling to find the right thing to say. He wasn’t following what was happening. He wasn’t done training with Dream. He had just plunged into his first Alternate Universe and came face to face with a troubled skeleton he didn’t know that looked horribly like his brother. He just met Alphys for the first time and she was rude and terrified. He just met a grieving Undyne. The Underground felt like it had been flipped upside down and things were moving too quickly.

“Friend?” Error said, laughing. The glitching in his voice made his giggles sound halting. “We’re not friends, you idiot. In fact, I will be your downfall,” Error reached his hands up to his eye sockets, his fingers snagging on something Papyrus couldn’t quite see. Then he pulled them away, dragging brilliant blue strings that matched the permanent tears streaming down his face. He appeared braced to move, and then Dream grabbed his forearm. Error’s expression of glee turned to shock, then the errors and glitches riddling his body multiplied until it was hard to see any bit of him. Dream drew back, looking relieved.

“So. Now you’ve met Error,” Dream said, sighing. “I’m ready to go home, how about you?” He gave Papyrus a tired grin, and his slump showed he was just about ready to drop on the spot. Papyrus nodded, and shot solid bones to cut Ink loose. He reached out his SOUL magic to catch his falling friend, but he missed. Somehow. It was almost like there wasn’t a SOUL there for Papyrus to catch. Ink hit the ground and rolled, coming to a full stop splat on the ground like a puddle.

“Thanks!!” Ink said, grinning. “Ooone moment!” He danced forward (yes, danced) and scooped his brush off the floor. He then splashed bright blue ink all over Error that solidified into chains.

“Ink, the SOUL.” Dream said patiently. Ink looked at him blankly for a moment, his expression mirroring Papyrus’s feelings, then a little light bulb went off on his eye light. He splashed a pool of ink on the floor, just like he had when he made the shortcut, but this time all he stuck was his hand in. Then he pulled out a Determined human SOUL, just like that.

“WHERE’D THAT COME FROM?! DO WE NEED TO RETURN IT?!” Papyrus said, alarmed.

“No, no.” Dream said, walking over to Ink and reaching a hand out. “This SOUL belongs to this timeline. Error took it so that the timeline couldn’t RESET.” Papyrus opened his mouth to ask a question, but Undyne interrupted him.

“Who the hell are you guys?! Let me go and we can have a real fight!!” She yelled from the other side of the room, where Papyrus had left her.

“RIGHT, SORRY FRIEND,” Papyrus said, reaching out a hand to dissipate the bones.

“Paper, wait.” Dream said. Papyrus turned to him questioningly, but before he could ask Dream continued. “I’m going to show you something, alright? Come here.” Papyrus strode over and crouched to see the brilliant red SOUL Dream was holding.

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH IT?” Papyrus said tentatively.

“RESET the timeline. Do you know about RESETs?” Dream said. Papyrus felt his SOUL drop past his ribcage. The word felt… familiar. It did not feel good. But for whatever reason, he couldn’t place it.

“I’M… NOT SURE. I THINK I DO, BUT YOU BETTER EXPLAIN IT ANYWAYS.” Papyrus said. Dream nodded, his expression saying that he was thankful Papyrus was honest.

“Determined human SOULs have the power to manipulate time itself. They can SAVE, LOAD, and RESET. SAVING is when they place a bookmark of sorts in time itself. They can LOAD and come back to the savepoint. RESETTING is when they go back to the beginning, typically when the human first fell into the Underground.” Dream explained. Pieces were beginning to come together in Papyrus’s skull.

“SO WE CAN BRING THIS TIMELINE BACK TO BEFORE OTHER ME… LEFT.” Papyrus said, exited.

“Exactly!” Ink said, jumping up to sling his arm around the crouching skeleton.

“WHAT ABOUT ERROR?” Papyrus said, looking towards the skeleton, still glitch-ridden.

“Eh, he’ll be out for a while. We could take him with us for lunch though, he might like that!!” Ink rambled. “Do you have any chocolate?”

“I BELIEVE SO, WHY?”

“We are not bringing Error for lunch.” Dream said firmly, nervously glancing at Error. “Ink, please take him back to his anti-void.” Ink pouted before making another shortcut and dragging himself and Error through.

“MAYBE HE JUST NEEDS A FRIEND,” Papyrus said ponderingly. Dream barked a dry laugh.

“Ink’s his friend. If either of the idiots can remember it.” He said.

“THEN WHY DO THEY FIGHT? AND WHY CAN’T WE BRING HIM FOR LUNCH?” Papyrus said. If Error was a friend, then why did he act the way he did? Error needed to take some friendship classes.

“You know how Ink forgets everything if he isn’t looking right at it?” After Papyrus nodded, Dream continued. “Error’s the same way. He can even do it staring right at you.”

“I WONDER WHAT IT’S LIKE TO NOT REMEMBER YOUR LIFE.” Papyrus said.

“I don’t know, and honestly? I’m too concerned already to find out. Now, I’m going to RESET then teleport us straight to your place. Don’t worry, we’ll come out right outside of your door.” Dream said, closing his eyes in concentration. Papyrus refrained from saying anything in case he broke Dream’s concentration. A small blip, then two glowing buttons appeared in front of the human SOUL. One said LOAD and the other RESET. Dream brought a hand up and brushed a finger along RESET. A white flash, tinged with gold and red, then they were in Snowdin.

Snowdin looked just the same as he had left it. Nothing was changed, nothing at all. It didn’t feel different like that red timeline. It felt so bizarre, having just gone on this adventure, and home was the exact same. What was he going to tell Sans? The truth, obviously, but where to start? Papyrus’s fantastic mind had barely been able to keep up with it all. But it was lunch time. He could pause and think over lunch. Surely, nothing would happen over lunch.

“Come on, unless you’d like to eat elsewhere?” Dream asked. Papyrus straightened, realizing he was still crouched.

“NO, PLEASE! COME IN. I WAS SIMPLY ENJOYING BEING BACK AT MY FANTABULOUS HOME.” Papyrus said, striding forward to the door. He heard Dream mutter something to himself that sounded a bit like “is… real word?” before his boots thumped in the snow behind Papyrus. Papyrus swung open the door, ready for food (and his brother). Sans was, in fact, inside, and right in front of the door.

“hey bro,” Sans’s eye lights were out, which made Papyrus pause. Sans’s eye lights didn’t go out often.

“SANS, IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG?” Papyrus said, concerned.

“nah, nothin’. but uh, did ya’ know we got some visitors?” He said, turning his skull slightly to the couch that had a broom thrown behind it.

“AH, MY APOLOGIES DEAR BROTHER! THAT’S MY NEW FRIEND. HE WAS SUPPOSED TO COME WITH ME, BUT I GUESS HE GOT EXCITED.” Papyrus said.

“... friend? as in singular?” Sans said, his eye lights flickered back on, but he still looked concerned.

“WELL I HAVE A SECOND ONE HERE, SAY HELLO DREAM!! THIS IS MY BROTHER SANS.” Papyrus said, only after realizing Dream knew this.

“then uh, why’s he got a buddy?” Sans said, waddling towards the couch. Well, he was really walking, but Papyrus liked to call it waddling. He did look like a penguin. Papyrus followed, with Dream in tow, only to find that Error had been plopped on the couch with Ink.

“Heyyy buddy friend pal!” Ink said excitedly. “What’s for lunch?”

“I thought I was clear, Error is not having lunch with us.” Dream interrupted, stepping in front of Papyrus and his brother.

“Aww come on, why not??” Ink whined. Dream began lecturing him as Sans sidled up to Papyrus.

“hey bro, i’m glad you're making friends don’t get me wrong, but could ya’ have picked… better ones?” Sans said, raising an eyebrow bone (honestly I don’t feel like googling the terminology just shhhh).

“THESE REALLY ARE GOOD FRIENDS! WELL, ERROR ISN’T, BUT I’M SURE WE CAN HELP HIM!!” Papyrus said, trying to be reasonable and look at it from Sans’s perspective. “THEY’RE VERY IMPORTANT, I CAN EXPLAIN OVER LUNCH.”

“aight, guess that brings us back to lunch, huh? whatcha want? i can make it today, so you can keep hangin’ out with your buddies.” Sans said.

“MAC AND CHEESE, PERHAPS?” Papyrus offered. Sans nodded, and was beginning to walk into the kitchen when there was a shout.

“SQUIIIIIIIIID!!!” Error shouted, his voice escalating and glitching hard. Ink paused, looking at the mad skeleton.

“Uhh… yea?” He said, an eye light flipping pale green.

“Why the hell am I here?!?” Error said, glaring at his ‘friend.’ It did not look like they were friends.

“Oh- I thought you might like lunch!” Ink said cherrily, throwing his hands up.

“You are perfectly welcome to leave,” Dream said in a voice that would’ve been icy had it been used by anyone else. Dream himself was so warm though that it was impossible for his words to have the same edge.

“Fucking hell squid, how many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?!” Error growled, standing up. As much as he was pretending to not be listening to Dream, he seemed about to accept his offer.

“I HAVE CHOCOLATE.” Papyrus said, remembering what Ink had asked him. Error whipped around and stared straight at Papyrus, locking eye sockets. He glared for a moment, and Papyrus got worried that Ink had remembered something wrong (again). Then, Error sat back down.

“Fine, I guess I can stay for lunch.” He said, scoffing, pointedly not looking at Ink. Sans grabbed Papyrus’s arm, yanking him into the kitchen.

“papyrus, where did these guys come from?” Sans said, keeping his voice low enough that the others couldn’t hear.

“THAT’S… HARD TO ANSWER. ELSEWHERE, I SUPPOSE. MAYBE HERE. THEY ARE ABLE TO EXPLAIN BETTER.” Papyrus said. It felt like he was telling a lie, or avoiding the truth. Even though he just couldn’t find the right words. He hoped Dream would clear everything up. Sans just sighed.

“that’s aight. go back to the living room, i don’t want your glitchy buddy tearing up the couch,” Sans said. Seeing Papyrus’s look, he added, “i’ll get the chocolate for him, don’t worry. and i won’t burn anything.” Sans relaxed his expression, the previously strained smile looking a bit more natural. As Sans turned to the cupboards to search for food, Papyrus walked back out to the living room.

“MY CARING BROTHER IS TAKING CARE OF LUNCH, IT WILL HOPEFULLY BE READY SOON.” Papyrus said. Error scoffed again, turning to look at the door in what appeared to be longing. “ERROR, I DON’T BELIEVE I INTRODUCED MYSELF TO YOU EARLIER.”

“You did.” He said dryly.

“I- I DID? REALLY?” Papyrus said.

“I’ve got no clue if you did or didn’t, but I know who you are and I’m sure golden there told you who I am.” Without moving his head, Error drifted his eye lights back over to Papyrus. They were mismatched, Papyrus realized. Dream huffed.

“Don’t bother Paper. Error’s a prick.” Dream walked over to Ink, shoved him closer to Error, then sat down at the very edge of the couch.

“He’s not a prick per say…” Ink said in a wheedling voice.

“Sure, go ahead and talk about me as if I’m not in the room.” Error said, his eye lights gliding back to the door.

“I APOLOGIZE FRIEND. LOOK, I RECOGNISE THAT YOU DON’T WANT TO INTRODUCE YOURSELF, BUT I WOULD.” Papyrus stuck out a hand. Error glared at it. “GREETINGS! I AM PAPER. I BELIEVE I’M FROM UNDERTALE.”

“I’m Error. I’m an outcode. Leave me alone.”

“I call Error’s AU Errortale!! There are others from his timeline out there I think…” Ink said, trailing off into thought that would surely be forgotten.

“They don’t fucking matter.” Error grumbled, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Would you lighten up on your language?!” Dream said, snapping a little. He had squeezed his eyes shut.

“Fuck shit damn,” Error said, and Papyrus could see a little smirk appear on his face. Error was proving to have… a difficult personality.

“keep the cuss words down in m’house please!” Sans called from the kitchen. Papyrus winced, realizing that this was Sans’s first impression of his new friends.

“HOW ABOUT THIS- DREAM AND I CAN FIND A BOARD GAME WE CAN PLAY WHILE WE WAIT FOR FOOD!” Papyrus threw a glance at Dream. His eye lights had reopened and he stood up. Error rolled his eye lights and Ink just looked passively happy. Papyrus walked behind the couch to a tired bookcase. It had puzzles, games, and cards that he and his brother played with when their free time lined up. Or when the snow outside was too much to go anywhere. While Papyrus and Dream pursued the games, Ink blathered to Error in the background.

“What about this one?” Dream said, pulling out a tan box titled “Munchkins” with cartoon humans on the front. Undyne had given it to him a few months ago, he and Sans had played it once.

“AH, ALRIGHT. FRIENDS! WE’RE PLAYING MUNCHKINS.” Papyrus said, walking back over to the couch and sitting down uncomfortable in front of the TV. Ink slipped to the ground happily, and Error made a big show of getting up and sitting back down, dragging a pillow Sans had left from the night before to the floor with him. Dream plopped down between Papyrus and Ink. It was game time, and Papyrus was ready to be competitive.

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awkenorslumped · 3 years

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who lied to you ?

Importance of the Spiritual Journey, universal signs and the unexpected!

As Summer Walker once said The spiritual journey isn’t about the astethic of crystals or the ideal that people have created to make it a fetish on social media. The true meaning of the spiritual journey as Summer Walker said its about the ability to take accountability for the choices one makes that affect their lives . Its about accepting who you truly are inside to show on the outside, Literally living in your true form not caring for the validation of others.

Many think the Spirituality is about the crystals or the “witching”, the burning of sage and manifestation. Take in mind that manifestation does play a part into it but there is much more depth. On your journey the importance is acknowledging that its about connecting deep to your inner self. The path is for you to really get to know yourself the true depth of who you are. Connecting to yourself through meditation means having a place where you feel safe and serene to focus your mind on yourself to analyze stuff within you that you can’t make a connection to why things happen to you in life. Connecting the subconscious to the conscious to make yourself whole.

I believe that before we’re born into the human realm we live in our spiritual homes before we’re meant to save those who we feel need help remembering who they truly are. I feel when we dream we are actually transporting back to our TRUE homes and forms. Scientist and the government are aware but they fear that when we realize it they can’t control it. They do research to figure out how to weaponize the ability and for complete control. Starseeds, Ascendants , Reiki Masters, The spiritually attuned etc are the people who are reincarnated to help break the cycle of control. The attuned don’t live for materialistic things they admire it but its never a true need, they don’t hold true value to the soul.

The journey is complex because you have to really really focus on yourself the past, the trauma , the fear and self doubt. Once you’ve overcome or can accept those your eyes will be open to the propaganda and the actual things happening in the world. Nothing will surprise you.

All those horror movies , sci fy movies where do you think the ideas come from ? Its not a coincidence its stuff that has happened before. They are signs and information in plain sight its for you to see the true info over what they put into distract you. The government has the goal to control the world for greed and power, while possibly some higher beings want to test us or sort us out from the true of heart to the wicked of heart. There is no good without a little bad, no light without dark and that goes for ourselves , the government and the higher beings some of us haven’t met yet.

We’re able to tell when we encounter others like us , we connect with them instantly they match our full energy potential without of dimming it. The goosebumps you get when you feel an eerie presence or feel your in the wrong place. That gut feeling that something is wrong is your subconscious telling you that a higher being that is most likely malicious or want to control you for a pet for their own amusement. The higher beings that observe us as entertainment are the ones who are in contact and work with the government for their desire of entertainment. The higher beings have been around longer than we have and seen many things also are more advance, they could give us the tools for world peace but they don’t instead they feed us info for world domination and destruction for pure laughter. The reptilians enjoy destruction because they feel they are superior to the pure of heart . To be fair there is a balance so what makes people think the universe wouldn’t have a balance between alien races ?

Lets bring you back to earth for a second, we humans HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA OF ALL THE CREATURES THAT LIVE HERE ! We’ve barely made a dent in prehistoric creatures. But lets take a dive down this bunny whole, If the earth we live on has been around for billions of years and has all these layers why the fuck would we assume we would know all the creatures and beings that have lived here before us ? Mythical creatures were & are real. Sea beings and creatures are real. Why is it hard to accept that there are legitimate things we know nothing us. But instead we humans want to prove we’re smarter beings? The joke is on everyone that believes that with their entire being. Honestly you have to be narcissitic to find that to be a true statement. How can we humans know everything about something that’s been around longer than us just because we dug through a small layer and found some bones. WE CAN’T EVEN GO TO THE TRUE DEPTH OF THE OCEAN SO HOW WOULD WE KNOW ALL THE SPECIES AND HUMANOIDS THAT CALL THE OCEAN HOME?? MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE! Scientist believe because they have a phd or doctorate that they are geniuses and make minor discoveries ? Its not a major discovery when most people are like we knew that already because we know there are other beings and species out there. You can’t fool the awaken ok, we have woken up because we were meant to. Shifts are happening and whatever deal was made could be coming to and end soon because the government is fucking up. Or hear me out the true form of the deal is coming where the humans who aren’t awake will never awake and will be under the control of the reptilians and the people in the government who work with them . But little do they know that the reptilians will in fact double cross them. Why, you ask? Simply the reptilians are smart, mischievous and clever but not too smart that they can’t be overcame. Typing this up I feel goosebumps why cause im aware im being watched I’ve acknowledged things im not meant to be aware of . Also because im writing this with all intentions of exposing what needs to be brought to light. Religion is a TOOL USED TO HAVE ALL OUR MINDS FOCUS ON ONE BEING THEY TOLD US WAS ALL MIGHTY BUT IN REALITY ITS THE REPTILIANS WHO CAME WITH THAT PLOT. BY BELIEVING IN ONE MIGHTY BEING YOU WILL BELIEVE EVERYTHING THAT POWER SAYS AND WILL NOT SECOND GUESS THEM. HELLO THE CONSTITUTION HAS THE SAME STRUCTURE HAS THE 10 COMMANDMENTS IN THE BIBLE. WHY??!? WHY HAVE LAWS THAT YOU HAVE TO FOLLOW UNQUESTIONED JUST LIKE THE 10 COMMANDMENTS YOUR EXPECTED TO FOLLOW IF YOU WANT TO LIVE WITH JESUS IN HEAVEN. Riddle me this why would Jesus who is suppose to be forgiving and loving turn his back on you for not following rules he made? He gave us free will so why would he forsake us if we don’t follow his rules. ALSO WHY WOULD HE ASK A FOLLOWER TO KILL HIS ONLY SON?!?! That there gave it away that religion as made as a secondary form of government to make people obedient and further help the reptilians plot for control of humans. Have the humans do your dirty work while you give them information or false information to complete your task while you sit back relax watch and wait until its almost completed and they come to take reign .ONCE you realize what done and try to rebel you get wiped out and they try again. Many planets many chances to complete a goal. ALSO all those people who’ve exposed the truth were killed because the people who don’t want the revolution are instructed to keep the secret by any means necessary. How come the Egyptians, the mayan , aztecs, Atlantans had contact with humanoids that helped them advance their ENTIRE civilizations, yet the government has know about “aliens” been in contact with them yet our civilization hasn’t advance . Shouldn’t that there tell you the humanoids they are in contact with aren’t here to actually help us. The world needs to open their eyes and see the truth.

If you think I’m crazy then explain why they haven’t found a single bone from the mayan civilization of the people who lived there, why can’t we explain atlantis, why is it that all these advance civilizations just go missing , not as though their city was rampaged but left in tact in one piece but the people left. NO THEY WERE SAVED BY THEIR ANCESTORS OF THE TRUE OF HEART BEFORE THE REPTILIANS TRIED TO DESTROY THEM.

WAKE UP, OPEN YOUR EYES, CONNECT YOUR MIND AND SOUL. SAVE YOURSELF BEFORE YOU MISS THE SAVING SHIP.

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kob131 · 3 years

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Geez, this person really went all out with this BS rant against the show/staff. www(.)reddit( lcom/r/RWBY/comments/kiqatg/why_rwby_will_always_be_an_okay_show/

... You know I have been trying to step away from directly addressing RWBY bullshit. But...fuck it here.

If you ever talked to me about how I felt about RWBY, I would say that RWBY pre-Volume 8 has been a touchy subject for me. I felt very validated by two videos, "Why RWBY is Disappointing" and "The White Fang Problem".

Yes yes, and people with parental issues feel validated by their abusive spouse. That means nothing, especially given that one of those videos you mentioned is riddled with bullshit.

"Why RWBY is Disappointing" validated my criticism of RWBYs writing. The fact that Miles and Kerry can't and refuse to take any kind of criticism that doesn't hurt their feelings is complete [insert bad word here]. All criticism is going to hurt your feelings. Yes, you should probably ignore the long winded rants that make themselves out to be self important- why is there a mirror here? But there is truth to all criticism.

And there’s a kernel of truth in the best lies- they’re still LIES.

Not to mention the video you mentioned here (which I am assuming is Hbomberguy’s) pulls the SAME SHIT it calls out. Like say...decrying critics pesonally attacking the writers...while proclaiming Jaune and Neptune as self inserts even though Miles AND Kerry is on the record saying that at least Jaune isn’t written by his voice actor.

I'm currently learning about Branding and how important it is to know your audience. Take self.care breaks, talk with someone you trust. Someone who isn't Miles or Kerry! If your reading this. An outside perspective can help. The reason I say that is because if you two constantly talk to each other you're going to end up in an echo chamber. TALK TO FIONA! She's literally your target audience!

Because hey, a man who contradicts himself numerous times and made personal attacks on the creators that only the most malicious and self righteous do is SOOOO trustworthy right?

Remember that tweet Hbomb brought up in his video as an example of criticism the creators should listen to? The one that demanded Miles get back to work and tried to use the catchphrase of his dead friend to manipulate him?

What a fucking target audience.

I know they mentioned ‘Fiona’ (likely the character’s voice actress) but there’s a supposed fan, one that pretty much sums up the critics, and a perfect example why it gets tossed out.

Moving on, the other video validated something I wish it didn't. "The White Fang Problem" brought to light something I knew was there but either ignored or I wasn't thinking. The White Fang has always made me a little uncomfortable. As a minority, it didn't translate well in my head. The minority are the bad guys. The Civil rights group were the bad guys. I brushed it off for a long time but after that video I couldn't.

Ah huh. So uh, the existence of Blake, Ghira, Kali, Sun, Illa, Velvet, Neon ect. is just incovienable to you huh? And don’t give me that ‘But civil rights group!’- The first episode had them break up a peaceful protest and it’s repeatedly hammered home that the current White Fang doesn’t give a SHIT about equal rights. And no, that concept is not racist- Judging from a story I read, that happened to the New Black Panthers in REAL LIFE.

It became a moral issue. Watching RWBY became a moral issue. RWBY is still pushing right wing talking points.-

Being right of you is not right wing, Especially given how you just acted.

I dont believe Miles and Kerry are racist. I do believe that Miles and Kerry both hold skewed beliefs in what right and wrong is.

Projection.

The way Miles and Kerry treat self defense and protest shows that they know nothing about being Black. They didn't do their research. They didn't talk to minorities about how they were being portrayed. They simply believed that they were right and we were wrong.

Ah huh, ah huh, ah huh-

Monty wrote the White Fang this way. You know, the ASIAN man of FOUR NATIONALITIES. So uh, congrats on saying at the absolute most- Nothing.

Now these two videos are old news. They've been posted on this very same subreddit. But you can't go around and say how much of a progressive and open minded individual you are when the fact that RWBY is a racist show and treats minorities very badly. So no one talks about them.

Or that, as I showed: these videos are bullshit.

Also its kinda homophobic too, not because of Bumblby but because despite Tera and Saphorn being a happy married couple they never kiss on screen. Have you seen happy married couples? Have you seen gay happy married couples? They literally do nothing but kiss. Its cute and adorable and deserves to be spread as far and wide. Despite the show having two straight couple kisses, granted one was in Volume but still, they couldn't get the married couple to kiss? Just saying.

... And not all gay couples are the same, even if I’m sure you’re thinking of TEENAGERS.

You know, judging people based on a preconcieved notion (AKA stereotyping) is pretty fucking bigoted itself...

Watch people be in the comments typing away that this isn't a romance show and how I shouldn't expect romance in an action adventure show despite the long list of evidence to the contrary.

Ah yes, that long list of ONE kiss by a TORPEDOED SHIP.

Such convincing rhetoric.

So you can see I was not coming into Volume 8 with my rose colored glasses. I'm sure many of you hate me because of all my comments, but I don't care. I was ready to leave RWBY. I didn't care. RWBY had taken up so much of my life but I don't care. I was not going to support a show that didn't improve.

Ah huh-

You just came in with jade-colored glass and accepted anything that validated you instead of questioning yourself. You talk about branding but that’s ALL you’ve branded yourself as.

So I watched. And something happened. Something strange. RWBY was moving in a direction I didn't expect it to. Oscar got what he deserved. The Heros were oblivious to the danger that is Salem. Things were headed in the direction that would change the characters forever. It'll be just like Beacon but better. And then they had to ruin it.

Oh we are about to get some real bullshit.

Oscar somehow convinces Hazel to betray Salem. What could have been an avenue to a multi season story arc for Oscar that included the stories villains became a shitty uninspired redemption arc. Kill me.

No he didn’t and this has been something hinted at since Volume 4.

There's still hope for the season but at this point I lost all hope.

This is the scene that killed Volume 8 for me. Oscar should not be the one who defeats Salem. In fact he should be an avenue to learn more about the villains. He served his purpose with the heroes, now he has a new arc with the villains. Oscar doesn't turn evil, but he's like a conscious. Salem doesn't want to kill him because he can be useful in finding the last remaining relics and maidens.

Assumptions.

Oscar has a heart to heart with all the villains including Salem. Oscar learns to be his own man and accepts he's now one with Ozma but he doesn't have to be another Ozma. He doesn't have to make the same decisions.

Its a great Arc for Oscar. It also makes sense for his character. Ozma feels Salem is pure evil but Oscar can learn for himself.

Headcanon.

But they won't do that. Instead they're going to take the easy way out. Like always.

Bias getting in the way.

Miles and Kerry love wrapping up each season in a little bow. This is why RWBY is so okay.

They say as every RWBY Volumes ends in a cliffhanger.

This is Beacon but if Miles and Kerry thought that RWBY should still be in Beacon. This is Beacon but without major character death. This is Beacon but the main villain loses because the heroes can't lose. Cinder isn't threatening. None of the villains are. Salem is in a Grimm! She should know everything! Why is there no creativity? Why is she not an over powered mess in A GRIMM!? Her own domain?! Why are the writers writing her not as a powerful goddess reaffirming her as a threat but as a human being. Yes I know what that sounds like but hear me out.

‘None of the villains are threatening!’

‘WHY IS THE MAIN VILLAIN NOT BEING TREATED AS THREATENING LIKE I THINK SHE IS!’

‘Why is there no creativity?’

‘DO THE MOST UNCREATIVE THING POSSIBLE!’

How about I keep mocking you?

If Salem can be out smarted by a 10 year old boy, why did it take Ozma so long to defeat her? Oscar should fail. RWBY should fail. They should go through character arcs that help them better understand Salem. Because that's how you defeat Salem.

Pushing your own thoughts onto the show. Also assumptions AGAIN.

I always believed that Ozma and Salem are very similar to Ruby and Weiss. Yes I know how it sounds but it makes sense.-

Too bad your AU fanfic doesn’t matter.

But they won't. Miles and Kerry will use Oscar to defeat Salem. Why? Who knows at this point. I dont know why Miles and Kerry keep pushing Oscar into the spotlight. Its exactly how they treated Jaune Pre-Volume 7. Jaune had to be the focus so often we hated him. And they're doing it again with Oscar

Ah huh. You know, the whole NOTHING Jaune did in Volume 6 was SOOO spotlight stealing, along with his REMOVAL FROM THE CAST FOR SEVERAL EPISODES.

Wanna bet this is another case of ‘penis on screen, me hate’?

They refuse learn and they refuse to improve. If Volume 8 doesn't improve im leaving RWBY. It doesn't matter to any of you. I'm saying it more for myself. So I don't continue with a show that constantly disappoints me. But more so, I don't support a show that views people like me as lesser. If the writing improves it proves that they can grow and get better but if it doesn't it means they will continue to treat Faunus as misguided and horrible characters. And I refuse to support a show that uses my likeness to get brownie points from people who are unaffected by such messages.

A. No, that’s who refused to do self reflection and improve.

B. Should have done that in the first place.

C. No, once again- You blind yourself from the shit that disproves you.

D. You heard him- Treat the Fanaus like shit and make the humans in the right. You know, the opposite what the show is doing now since it’s SOOO horrible.

E. You are not the center of the universe.

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 4 years

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Shelter (Part Two)

Pairing: Jay White x OFC (Estella)

Word count: 2,814

Content advisory: nothing, really, other than a wee bit of violence

You’ll need to read part one for this to make sense.

During the course of the next day, I demanded to be able to speak to Hannah and to my cousin, as well as to receive news of the two guards who had accompanied us. None of these requests was granted and at that point I realized that I was not so much a guest in the castle as a prisoner. I couldn't imagine what strategic purpose I would serve but evidently there were political games afoot of which I had no understanding. Finally, after two full days, I was graced by a visit from our host and captor.

Jay strode into my chambers at least more decently dressed than the night we’d arrived. Still, he wore no coat and he carried a bottle of wine that he drank from liberally as he paced around the room and his expression was far from what one would expect of a man greeting an equal.

“I understand that you’ve asked to speak to me,” he hissed, eyes lighting on mine like somehow my request had constituted an act of war.

“You know good and well why I have. You’ve no right keeping my servants and I like prisoners here. We came to you seeking aid and we gave you no reason to feel threatened. What excuse do you have for your behavior?”

“You seem unaware of how things are in these parts. Every week, there are attacks from the Scots in the north. Every week, his majesty in London sends more troops in the name of protecting the border but who keep an eye out to see whose lands can be plundered and claimed for the crown. And every week, dozens of men return dead and dying. You do not get to pass through these parts unmolested, no matter who you are. To gain safe passage, you need to pay the toll.”

“As much as I would like to think such piracy was beneath the noble classes,” I growled, “had you indicated that you were simply a mercenary looking for a reward, I would have offered you plenty. You did not need to resort to kidnapping me and my companions. Even now, though it pains me to entreat with you as an equal, I tell you to name your price. We have already lost time, which we can ill afford. So settle your price, have your grooms prepare our horses and allow us to leave without any further delay.”

Jay’s eyes widened as I spoke and as I finished, he laughed loudly in response.

“My dear Estella, what a delightful sense of humor you’ve developed,” he chuckled. He walked a slow circle around me, sardonic laughter tumbling from him as he spoke. “You think you’re in a position to give me orders, to tell me what will and won’t happen in my own castle. You and your party arrive out of nowhere, with no proper explanation of what you’re doing in these parts. Your father is a well-established lord whose lands have doubled in size during his lifetime. Your sister is married to one of the most powerful men in the country, an ally of the King who stands to become the lord of half the country if he can establish a stronghold in the north. And you are married into the royal family of Cumbria, whose reach extends further to the east each year.

“And you would have me believe that you just happened to find yourself stranded on this road, that your clever servants brought you up this way rather than taking the much safer routes to the south?”

He stopped his pacing and stepped close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my face.

“Estella, dear cousin, why don’t you tell me what your real purpose is here?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I stammered, feeling nervous although I had no reason. “Everything I’ve told you is the truth and I have no ulterior motives. You wound me by suggesting otherwise.”

His blue-green eyes locked onto mine with an expression I couldn’t quite read but which terrified me. I moved to back away from him but he caught my arm and held me in place, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh. A smile that seemed more madness than mirth crossed his face as he walked me backwards until I was pressed against the wall.

He ran his hand up my arm and cupped my cheek in his hand, pressing his face close to mine. I felt my body running hot and cold in waves, frightened of what he meant to do to me and at the same time wanting to know what was in store.

“Do you remember the last time we saw each other, Ella?”

I nodded, unsure how to relate this to what had come before.

“Do you remember when we left your home, how you took your leave of me? Do you remember the kiss on the cheek you gave me?”

His lips pressed against my skin as he spoke and I leaned into the contact, unsure why.

“I do,” I rasped. “But it was a childish gesture. I didn’t mean…”

I could not think of how to finish the sentence, alarmed and excited as I was at the feeling of his chiseled chest against me, pinning me in place.

“I’ve thought of it often,” he murmured, lips trailing over my neck and jaw. “I was too young at the time to even understand why it affected me so. But I’ve had more than enough time to reflect on the feelings you stirred in me. Tell me, have I stirred anything in you? Have you thought about me?”

I stammered trying to come up with a response. Of course I had thought of him. I was embarrassed at how I’d imagined that he might be the boy who left and returned a gallant knight of a man, a romantic hero. At the same time, it was obvious he was no hero to me. I was his captive based on his specious ideas about tribal warfare in these parts. Perhaps his licentiousness had made him believe that there were no people with pure and gentle motives any longer. I wanted to understand but it didn’t matter as long as he was keeping me locked in here like an enemy. Nevertheless, I continued to lean into him, lips inclined towards his until they touched almost of their own accord.

The kiss was slow and tentative but I felt the echoes of it reverberate through every part of my body. I wanted it to continue but he pushed me back roughly against the wall, snapping his body away from mine as if emerging from a trance. I surprised myself by trying to cling to him, although I could think of no reason to do so. But to my embarrassment, he detached himself from me like I was a spider’s web, shoving me away with the same intensity he’d pulled me in.

“You feign innocence so well, I believe you could seduce all the kings of Europe,” he snarled. “I’m fortunate to have been alerted to your duplicitousness before you could claim my head for your mantle.”

“You wound me. I have been nothing but honest and open with you. You are the one who has played the villain, holding me captive, inventing stories of intrigue between nobles, speaking in riddles when I have told you clearly that I wish only to pass through your lands to my father’s home in Northumbria to see him before he dies.”

There were tears in my eyes and in my voice as I watched his emotionless face glaring back at me. I stepped forward and tried to capture his hand in mine, hoping the contact would remind him of our ancient familial bond, but he swung himself out of my way, leaving me grasping at the air.

“My father is very sick. My mother is taken sick as well. My only reason for journeying this way is that I might be able to see them and to comfort them. You have seen for yourself the love that we bear each other. How can you imagine that I would have any other reason to travel without my husband, through dangerous country?”

Without meaning to, I stumbled on the word “husband”. I had a husband, of course, but I felt there was some little deceit in calling him such when our marriage had never been fully consummated. Although I knew it was wrong, I felt like the full realization of our marriage hung upon an act I knew precious little about. Nevertheless, I saw Jay’s eyes narrow at my slight hesitance. I wished that I could make him understand that even in a point as irrelevant as this, I was incapable of deceiving him.

“I think you need more time to think about what it is you’ve come here to do,” he hissed.

I blinked and immediately felt the stream of tears down my face. “I tell you again that I have been honest with you in every detail. You know as much of what brought me here as I do. There is nothing else to know. Ask my companions if you don’t believe me!”

“Oh I have, and I will,” he retorted, a vicious kind of smile on his face.

There was a long moment where the two of us stared fire at each other, both of us straining for breath as if we had been in a literal battle, both of us refusing to capitulate. And then, as if obeying some unheard instruction, we were in each other’s arms again, lips straining to come together as our faces brushed against one another. Before we could find our way to a kiss, he thrust me violently away, my facing hitting the stone wall hard enough that I cried out. I looked to him, trying to understand his sudden reversal, but I only saw him hurry from the room, his hand touching the grip of the dagger he wore strapped to his waist.

I held my aching face, crying into my hands for some time until I finally made my way to the lumpy mattress where I tried to sleep. I didn’t know who this man was, this man I’d called family, this man I believed I once knew and even cared for. I didn’t understand his anger and violence towards me, especially since I knew I’d done nothing to provoke it. But most frightening of all, I did not understand the physical sensations he stirred in me. These were not the feelings I’d had when imagining my own version of the heroes of the books I read. Nor were they feelings of revulsion. In fact, what I felt was the opposite of both of those things at once and I had no idea what that meant.

These thoughts kept me preoccupied enough that I passed a fitful night and found it difficult to stay awake during the day. The serving women appointed to me tutted their disapproval when they saw how little I consumed of the food they brought. I ignored them, unwilling to engage in even light conversation any longer. I was trapped and maligned and assaulted by feelings I didn’t understand. If all I could do to resist was refuse the food that was brought to me, then I determined I would do that.

It was late at night when he arrived in my rooms again, this time staggering from the drink, his cheeks visibly flushed even through the thick hairs of his beard. He dropped a platter with food on the table where I was sitting before slouching against the wall.

“Eat!” he ordered, waving a hand at the food. “You’re not going to starve yourself, so stop being dramatic.”

I glared at him, gathering what pride I could muster, nostrils quivering a little at the scent of the delicious-smelling food before me and at the mix of red wine and musk that wafted from him.

“Let me and my companions go.”

He gave a sort of barking laugh and staggered over to me, grabbing a crust of bread and some sliced meat that he shoved into my mouth. I struggled instinctively, which only caused him to grab hold of my jaw and clamp his other hand over my nose, forcing me to chew and swallow if I wanted to breathe. By the time I gulped down what he’d given me, I had tears staining my cheeks, something which elicited a nasty little smile from him.

“So, my dear, are you going to eat on your own or am I going to make you?”

“On my own,” I choked, gingerly picking up another piece of bread and bringing it to my lips.

He watched as I ate the bread as quickly as I could, struggling to force it down my dry throat. Picking up on this, he jammed the bottle of wine he was holding to my mouth and poured the liquid over my lips. I was able to adjust before too much spilled but he kept the bottle in place until I was spluttering, unable to take any more.

He took a long drink from the bottle himself, winding his fingers through my hair as he did, pulling me so that I was looking up at him, my face a mess of tears and spittle. As he finished his drink, he leaned down and planted his lips on mine, hard and unkind, crushing my lips between his teeth and mine, enjoying the whimper that escaped me when a little of the wine spilled from his mouth over my tongue.

“You still think you can play me for a fool?” he snarled.

He leant forward as if he meant to kiss me again and, as if on instinct, I slid my hand over to where I knew he kept his dagger. By the time he realized what I was doing, I had pulled it free and had the blade against his throat. Intoxicated as he was, I was able to force myself against him, making sure that the blade stayed hard against his most vulnerable point, the blood visibly pumping against it as I pulled him towards the door.

“Call your guards,” I hissed to him. “But make sure your tone stays gentle.”

He followed my instructions, wild eyes locked on me while I was unable to look directly at him.

Immediately, the chief of the guard reached for his sword and I pushed the blade a little harder against Jay’s skin.

“Stay your weapons,” he rasped, frantically gesturing to his men. “Do as she says.”

“Bring my handmaid and my guards to me,” I said as evenly as I could manage. “Prepare our horses and bring them to the front. When we have made our way far enough, I’ll release your master.”

The guards hesitated until Jay nodded and indicated that they should follow my instructions.

“Are you still going to try to claim that your presence here is innocent?” Jay growled at me.

“You can think what you want. I’ve tried to treat you as a noble, as an equal, as the friend and cousin I once knew. Now I am a woman whose duty is to her family and I will be damned if I let you stand in my way.”

“Ma’am,” I heard Hannah squeak as she arrived with one of the guards.

“We are leaving, Hannah. We are going to Northumbria immediately.”

It was a long wait for the guards to bring the men and when they did, I could scarcely believe my eyes. The two strapping lads who had accompanied us to the castle, who had stood as our protectors when we first entered this place, were gone. In their place were two fleshy marionettes, broken and bent, barely capable of standing under their own power for a second or two.

I felt my breath quicken as I took in the terrible state of their bodies, trying to imagine how I could get all of us safely through to my father’s home.

“What has happened to you?” I asked as calmly as I could, looking James in the eye.

“I’m so sorry ma’am,” he murmured, straining to say even that much.

“What have you done to him?”

As I tried to demand answers from the assembled men, I felt weak and in that moment, the pressure of my blade on Jay’s neck slacked ever so slightly. He realized it even before I did and in an instant I felt my arm painfully twisted and the dagger fall from my grasp. For one second, I locked eyes with James again, only to see him mouth another apology to me. Then I felt the sickening impact of a boot and my face crashed into the stone wall.

#jay white imagine #jay white fanfic #njpw imagine #wrestling fanfic #wayward wrestle writing

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hufflly-puffs · 4 years

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Chapter 17: A Sluggish Memory

“Late in the afternoon, a few days after New Year, Harry, Ron and Ginny lined up beside the kitchen fire to return to Hogwarts. The Ministry had arranged this one-off connection to the Floo Network to return students quickly and safely to the school.” – But what about those students who don’t have access to the Floo Network, like Hermione and other Muggleborns? And it also doesn’t seem like they all arrive at the same time, so McGonagall has students dropping in her office all day.

So Apparation lessons cost no less than 12 Galleons? And the fact that Ron not mentioned this once, just like he didn’t talk about his new potions book costing 9 Galleons, really must mean the Weasleys have more money now. Though I think it is interesting that Apparation is something you don’t learn at school but through a Ministry approved course. Bit like driving lessons then. And just like them perhaps not every student can afford them.

“‘I forgot you’d already done it … I’d better pass my test first time,’ said Ron, looking anxious. ‘Fred and George did.’ ‘Charlie failed, though, didn’t he?’ ‘Yeah, but Charlie’s bigger than me,’ Ron held his arms out from his body as though he were a gorilla, ‘so Fred and George didn’t go on about it much … not to his face, anyway …’” – Despite the fact that the twins are no longer at school Ron still thinks about their reaction and compares himself with them. But I guess lifelong unhealthy habits are hard to get rid of.

“Lost in visions of this happy prospect, he flicked his wand a little too enthusiastically, so that instead of producing the fountain of pure water that was the object of that day’s Charms lesson, he let out a hoselike jet that ricocheted off the ceiling and knocked Professor Flitwick flat on his face. ‘Harry’s already Apparated,’ Ron told a slightly abashed Seamus, after Professor Flitwick had dried himself off with a wave of his wand and set Seamus lines (‘I am a wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick’).” – You know I don’t think we appreciate Flitwick as a character enough.

“‘It was Fudge’s idea originally, you know. During his last days in office, when he was trying desperately to cling to his post, he sought a meeting with you, hoping that you would give him your support –’ ‘After everything Fudge did last year?’ said Harry angrily. ‘After Umbridge?’” – You know, now that I think about it, Fudge never actually apologized, which was the very least he could do. He would have if he had ever had the chance to meet Harry, but only to get him on his side. I’m not sure Fudge actually felt remorse for the way he treated Harry. He created his own version of the truth, where he justified all of his actions.

“‘So, sir,’ said Harry, in what he hoped was a polite, calm voice, ‘you definitely still trust –?’ ‘I have been tolerant enough to answer that question already,’ said Dumbledore, but he did not sound very tolerant any more. ‘My answer has not changed.’” – I think this is the only time Dumbledore is strict with Harry. But it is a question of trust. Just as Lupin told Harry over Christmas: the question is not whether to trust Snape but if you trust Dumbledore’s judgement of Snape’s character. And obviously Dumbledore can’t tell Harry why he trusts Snape; in the end only Snape could make the choice to share this information with Harry. But Dumbledore asks Harry to trust him and Harry can’t, not entirely, not when it comes to Snape, and this causes a small rift between them.

“‘No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.’ Dumbledore paused and looked enquiringly at Harry, who had opened his mouth to speak. Here, again, was Dumbledore’s tendency to trust people in spite of overwhelming evidence that they did not deserve it! But then Harry remembered something … ‘But you didn’t really trust him, sir, did you? He told me … the Riddle who came out of that diary said “Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did”.’ ‘Let us say that I did not take it for granted that he was trustworthy,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I had, as I have already indicated, resolved to keep a close eye upon him, and so I did. […]” – There is a clear parallel to Snape here. Same as he did with young Tom Dumbledore decided to give Snape a second chance, because everyone deserves one. And yet, it is possible Dumbledore never trusted Snape a hundred percent either; at least he kept a close eye on him as well. His refusal to give him the position for the DADA teacher for so long indicates this, because Dumbledore wanted to keep Snape away from the Dark Arts as much as possible. Unlike Tom Riddle though Dumbledore knows that Snape feels remorse for his actions, and he knows the very reason why, and in the end this is why he puts the ultimate trust in Snape, telling him about the Horcruxes, asking Snape to kill him, trusting Snape to play his role in Dumbledore’s big plan even after Dumbledore’s death.

“‘I have not been able to find many memories of Riddle at Hogwarts,’ said Dumbledore, placing his withered hand on the Pensieve. ‘Few who knew him then are prepared to talk about him; they are too terrified.” – This indicates that those people do know that Tom Riddle became Lord Voldemort. However I always had the impression that Hagrid never knew that Tom Riddle and Voldemort are the same person, and that Voldemort himself did the best to leave his past behind him, in changing both his name and face, creating a completely new identity. Perhaps those people who knew him back then, knew him as Tom Riddle, are right to be terrified, because the secret to defeat Voldemort is in his past, in those very few unguarded moments, before the man became a monster.

“Finally he was forced to accept that his father had never set foot in Hogwarts. I believe that it was then that he dropped the name for ever, assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort, and began his investigations into his previously despised mother’s family – the woman whom, you will remember, he had thought could not be a witch if she had succumbed to the shameful human weakness of death.” – I think human life in itself is defined by the fact that it will end. And knowing that our time is limited gives it value in the end. But I think Voldemort perhaps did define himself to be above humans. Being a wizard already made him special, and even among other wizards he was special, with his heritage, with his abilities. But even wizards die, even magic can’t prevent death, not until you are ready to sacrifice your soul. (And what’s a human without a soul?) And so Voldemort created himself and shaped himself into something barely recognizable as a human being, because if you are no longer human you can longer die. But when he does die in the end the question is as what.

I do wonder if Morfin put one and one together and realized that Merope gave birth to a son who turned out to be a wizard, or if he was simply too drunk (and dumb) to realize the truth.

We do learn two very importing things about memories in this chapter: you can implant a false memory into the mind of someone else and you can alter your own memory. Therefore not even memories can be a reliable source. They can be changed, erased or overwritten, and this again is another case of abusing consent. We are made of our memories and to take them away, to change them or to implant us false memories changes fundamentally who we are.

Also Dumbledore says he gained Morfin’s real memory through Legilimency, so Morfin did not give Dumbledore his memory freely. It is possible he agreed that Dumbledore could use Legilimency on him, otherwise the whole thing is quite problematic, no matter Dumbledore’s intentions.

“‘You are quite right – they can detect magic, but not the perpetrator: you will remember that you were blamed by the Ministry for the Hover Charm that was, in fact, cast by –’ ‘Dobby,’ growled Harry; this injustice still rankled. ‘So if you’re under age and you do magic inside an adult witch or wizard’s house, the Ministry won’t know?’” – Remember in book 4 when Hermione used a spell (I think it was ‘Lumos’) during the Quidditch World Cup, after the mass panic had broken out, and nothing had happened to her? Now we know why. There were so many wizards and witches there, all of them using magic, that it was impossible to trace that spell back to her (and Hermione probably knew that because she had read it somewhere). But considering this, the rule that forbids underage wizards and witches to use magic, is stupid. Basically every child in a magical household could get away with it, though I wonder how many of them know about it. Earlier Ron did complain over Christmas that he could not use magic to help him peeling sprouts for Christmas dinner. And if you, like Harry, are the only wizard within your neighbourhood every bit of magic will be traced back to you, even if you are sometimes not responsible.

“Harry noticed that the contents proved difficult to empty into the Pensieve, as though they had congealed slightly; did memories go off?” – Imagine it though, all those memories with little ‘best before’ labels.

“His right hand lay negligently upon the arm of his chair; with a jolt, Harry saw that he was wearing Marvolo’s gold and black ring; he had already killed his father.” – Not sure if the opening of the Chamber of Secrets happened before or after the murder of his remaining family, but Riddle leaves school and has already committed four murders. What is interesting is that he only learns now about Horcruxes, after he had killed his father and grandparents. So is it possible to create a Horcrux even some time after the murder, not just in the process of it?

“It is, as you will have noticed, very crudely done, and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is still there beneath the alterations.” – I wonder if you can erase a memory for good. Dumbledore was able to find Morfin’s real memory underneath a false one, and it is the same with Slughorn: the real memory is still there. Despite both Riddle and Slughorn being very talented wizards they could not fully erase/change a memory. I wonder however what it does to you and your mind if the real memory is still there, but hidden, what kind of trauma that can cause.

“‘He [Slughorn] is much more accomplished at Occlumency than poor Morfin Gaunt, […].” – This does make it sound like Dumbledore took Morfin’s memory against his will.

“‘No, I think it would be foolish to attempt to wrest the truth from Professor Slughorn by force, and might do much more harm than good; I do not wish him to leave Hogwarts.” – So Dumbledore does not want to use force on Slughorn because it is morally wrong but because he is afraid Slughorn might leave (though it is possible he is simply afraid Slughorn will become a target again outside Hogwarts). But clearly Dumbledore thinks the end does justify the means.

Also, Dumbledore does the very same as Scrimgeour, he uses Harry for his own means. He might be more open about it his intentions; he told Harry he needed him to get Slughorn back to Hogwarts in the first place and now he needs him to get the real memory from Slughorn. And perhaps it is the fact that he acknowledges that he needs Harry, that he uses him, that makes Harry agree to do what he is told. Harry trusts Dumbledore and his trust is repaid with honesty (as honest as Dumbledore can be with Harry at this point).

#Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince #A Sluggish Memory #chapter notes #hbp

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danddymaro · 5 years

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Gaara No Sabaku x reader | Happiness

Pairing: Gaara no Sabaku x Reader

Word Count : 2448

Fixed/Revised

Mostly in his POV

From original to Shippuden and onward.

I tried to not change too much of it, because Then it’d just be something else.

Happiness

His aquamarine eyes were a complete abyss of nothingness to many, with a deep void that was visible through the two seemingly bottomless pits.

They were rimmed with the blackest color in existence that definitely had a stark contrast to his pale skin.

His hair, being the color of passion, made him stand out in a full crowd and in short, he was someone that simply couldn't be missed by the wandering eye.

- But his appearance wasn't what made him an outsider.

To many, the physical attributes would have not mattered much.

It was what had grown within his being that made people avoid him at any cost. If you were to ask anyone, they would assure you he was a demon spawn, akin to a creation of pure evil.

He was a complete abomination, unloved, and only one purpose in life:

To create destruction.

He was Gaara no Sabaku

For many years the very name struck fear in the hearts of those of his village, as well as simultaneously aspired a deep nested hate within thier very cores.

Cold and alone, without anyone to care for him, he learned to care for only himself, and for so long time, he was the monster that his father and everyone in his land had made him out to be.

With no other choice, he’d long given up hope in being anything but that wretched creature, but it all suddenly changed and his life took a complete turn.

He soon saw the world in a different shade other than those of black and white.

Colors soon surrounded him, and this was all thanks to his new friend Uzumaki Naruto,

' Friend…' he would often repeat the word in solace, because, before then, the world would have not ever been associated with him.

The very word that associated with companionship, and love was unfathomable to him.

' Love…'

To think A damned creature as himself had love.

He had soon come to grasp something he had long given up on, and had felt wasn't meant to co-exist within his world of isolation.

It was incomprehensible, but, you see, the tan-skinned, blonde had a way of making everything possible.

- He always had a way.

It was because of that one boy, who was much like himself, that he saw the world differently.

And with all the new colors in his life, he came to the conclusion that his favorite would have to be (e/c).

- it only took him so long to realize it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Gaara p.o.v.

Scent...what a scent.

I remember a time long ago…

The scent of your blood was driving me insane!

It was so sweet and not only called to me, but my demon. We both searched for the scent of heaven that coursed on earth.

Stepping foot in Konoha I was overwhelmed.

My mind was in constant distraction, because of that damn scent. I arrived to be met with the sight of so many genins, many around my age, but none with the deliciousness that had taken over one of my senses.

Yet, I knew you were there...

The more my stomach twisted, and the more my heart raced, the more certain I grew of the fact that you would be near, and so I searched.

I searched for the creature that called out to me so strongly, and I followed that sweet scent and was soon lead to a simple genin.

I stopped dead in my tracks then.

- I remember it so well, I could tell it word for word if you asked.

But I know you won't, because, I know you're ashamed.

I was just in time to see your match; the preliminaries.

Your match was pitiful. Your moves were weak, but only because they matched your will.

Where was your courage?

Where was your confidence?

Where was your will to survive?

I didn't see it when your hand shook while holding a kunai.

I didn't see it when you lost your footing so early on.

It certainly didn't show when you gave up.

Of all things, that was what bothered me most, that you simply gave in without a fight.

I asked myself where it all was, and how someone so pitiful could call themselves a ninja.

I questioned myself if I was mistaken when I thought you were special, and by then, I tried to leave, but my feet stayed planted.

So, annoyed I looked on, and with my own surprise, I was relieved to watch you stand back up from your beating without assistance.

There was a type of spark in your eyes that flashed before you walked away with your head down, eyes drawing downcast. And at that very moment, I knew I wanted to see those downcast eyes' gaze set on me instead.

I needed them to look up in my direction. I felt a strong need to have them locked on my own and nothing else.

- I remember the first time I came towards you.

I didn't hold flowers nervously behind my back to woo you, and I didn't have the perfect line to make you swoon either.

- no

I was an uncontrolled beast without a leash and unhinged by that time.

I raged across the entire field with the intention of seeing those pretty eyes up close.

Such beautiful orbs had captivated me that they riddled every thought I had.

I wanted to rip them out and keep them all to myself, save them and keep them safe, just for me.

Those pretty eyes would be wide with shock and fear when I approached them...yes.

- That was my plan.

Those were my intentions because at the time I didn't know what it was to love or to hold affection.

During then, I didn't know how to place that emotion you caused with those twinkling drops.

All I knew was to cause fear.

All I knew was to wreak havoc.

And somehow in my mind, I assumed giving you all I could was my best choice.

I didn't know why I wanted to do this, believe me, I didn't.

I know I was much younger then, but the feelings of arousal I felt were sickeningly real and undeniable. I didn't know what overcame me, but I knew you were the one to cause this.

Only you could stop this pain in my chest.

But imagine this, my love...

Instead of pleasure, your eyes brought me shame.

I stopped in my tracks, dead on my feet.

I had yet to hear your voice back then, but I didn't need to.

Your eyes spoke loud enough.

During then, it was as if you had expected more of me. As If, perhaps, you believed I was much more than the monster everyone saw me as,

As the monster, I believed I was.

‘Do you believe this? Or am I hallucinating?’ I thought with stunned bewilderment.

Again, my chest had become pained.

Again, that feeling weighed down on me when I began to wonder if you cared.

I've cast aside the need for affection, so why did you bring it back forth? How did you breathe life into it?

For so long I questioned my entire existence thanks to you.

And I remember

It was then that I began to question my existence wholeheartedly. Once I saw the way you gazed at me, it made me snap out of my bloodthirsty rampage for just a second.

That day I turned and pretended to be unaware of your crouching figure, sparing you of my unease.

But I knew...

I knew you hid above the trees.

My predator eyes could see you looking straight at me with that wretched look that made me shiver in disgust to my own self.

You hid shaking like the leaves did while the wind became stronger upon my arrival. I tore my focus from you, instead, finding another to release my frustrations in, because I couldn't bring you harm.

I couldn't face you.

Because of some power you held, I could not touch you.

I was there and could literally feel your heart at my hands. It was there and pulsed wildly.

Yet, Rather than the sickeningly sweet pleasure that should have consumed me, your eyes brought me shame.

It was A feeling I didn't know I had any more, and I tasted bitterness at knowing this is what you will think of when my name crossed your mind.

-A rampaging beast.

- A bloodthirsty killer.

I ground my teeth together because strangely enough, I couldn't bear the thought of knowing that eventually, you will know the truth about just how ugly I could be.

You were so small and shaken. Your heart was mine at that moment, yet, I decided to reach for it another time...and in a much different fashion.

I was too young to realize this, but my heart, it was yours as well and with my withdrawal I left you, only to claim it later on in the future instead.

Years later, I saw you again.

I decided to go see the leaf's Hokage personally, seeing as I was now the Kazekage, claiming a title that had been passed down to me.

I'd use this as an excuse, A sorry excuse to see you, because, after all the years that had gone by, I hadn't let my obsession die.

To see just a glimpse, a small glance, that was my goal.

Perhaps if I saw you, then I would feel nothing but reminiscence, meaning that I'd long outgrown you. I could only imagine my silly infatuation would be nothing more than a memory by the time I came across you again.

And luck just happened to be by my side, because It wasn't long before we ran into each other.

I brushed by you, and would you believe it if I said I felt like there was a spark?

A literal spark was set between us.

Perhaps it was just static, but I will always believe it was somehow the connection between us that caused the tiny jolt of electricity to spread throughout my body from that one tiny contact.

Your (e/c) colored hair danced so beautifully with the breeze as I passed you, and I couldn't help but muse that they were similar to silken strands of ribbon flowing freely in the wind.

You left a sweet trail behind you, one that enticed me so. And I was so delighted to understand that, this time around, it was not the scent of your blood that drew me in.

I wasn't a beast driven by carnage, but rather a man driven by likeness and true attraction.

This was an intoxicating scent that called out to me and made me want to pull you back towards me. It was an earthy one that came from just you, and it didn't make me feel that sickeningly aroused way I did before, but rather, it made me feel at home.

The feeling of home came with your scent and I was washed by comfort.

It was soft, tranquil and made me feel at ease.

I will admit it now, I was hopeful in seeing you during the entire way there.

Those few minutes of sleep I'd have, I'd dream of you, focusing on the one thing to keep my sanity at bay.

I’d imagine you smiling at me as if I actually was interesting.

I’d imagine your hand softly slipping into mine, just before I'd give it a soft, reassuring squeeze to let you know I'm here, with you.

And I could only imagine that the smile on your face would be priceless.

I’d imagine the look of sadness that would cross your face as I left, letting me know how much you'd miss me, and what was much more, letting me see that you weren't afraid to show it.

Above all else, I’d imagine you looking at me like no other person had.

I’d hope to see your gaze drop to me and not see a Jinchuriki or Kazekage.

You wouldn't see me as any of these titles, but rather, just Gaara.

Simply, just Gaara

Years have passed and you'd changed. You'd changed so much from what I could see.

You'd grown little, but those beautiful, innocent eyes were now much stronger, and they didn't waver in the least bit.

They only looked straight ahead. You looked up at the world with your head held high.

You walked with your headband tied securely and proudly, and I could see it.

It brought a dainty smile to my face.

You were so much more different, So much more beautiful.

I had hoped to find the same girl I did all those years ago in that village, but instead, I came across a different young woman.

And you know what? I was ok with that, because every flower blossoms, and that you did just that.

I was someone else as well… I had changed too, and I hoped you would see that.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

PRESENT TIME -

Staring at you now, I try my best to hide my smile.

Everyone teases me for this, for being so obvious and transparent in my feelings towards you.

To my disdain, I only have the color of my cheeks to match my hair in proof of how much you still fluster me.

It's an effect I hope lasts forever.

Just then your hand slips into mine, and I can feel how soft and small it is while held within my own.

My eyes gaze away from you, looking straight forward instead because I know that you'll stay by me.

I only want to walk forward with you.

With a smile, I give your tiny hand a soft squeeze, reassuring you that I am here, and so are you.

I constantly have to remind myself this isn’t a dream and you truly are at my side, because It's all too perfect.

Grinning wildly, you only look down at our hands with what I can only describe as utter bliss.

Are you as happy as I am (f/n)?

This isn't a dream, not a fantasy where Gaara can be happy.

This is a reality where he can have a persistent, bright friend like Uzumaki Naruto, one who’d crawl under the darkest pits to reach out for him.

It's a world where I've come to obtain true bonds that last a lifetime and even longer.

This is a reality where the people of Suna look on giggling with glee as he displays affection towards his beautiful lover.

In this reality he isn't a monster, he is a leader, a protector, and a lover.

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dukeofriven · 5 years

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Re-Reading Good Omens After Fifteen-Plus Years: A Review

[I a so sorry I didn’t get a chance to finish it before the show dropped the way i wanted - I had to bow out of Tumblr for most of the last few weeks to focus on a project. Bugger bugger bugger. Here it is now, later that I would have liked. Apologies, gentle readers. Spoilers, obviously for the whole book] I last read Good Omens some fifteen to seventeen years ago for probably the tenth or even twentieth time. I read it a lot. In the heady days of... I want to say grade ten?... no book seemed smarter, wiser, made me laugh more, and me feel smarter for having read it. I think my order of operations was all the Discworld books (up to, or just before, Night Watch) -> Good Omens -> Sandman, with the later changing how I understood the nature of story itself (but that’s for another day.) I suspect that Good Omens, along with The West Wing, Tolkien, and The Golden Compass, along with an enormous Colonial Chip on my shoulder (and a pretentious stick up the ass) eventually led me to becoming a Classicist after a brief and dreadful dalliance with the theatre. At the very least it certainly helped. So, what do I know think of Good Omens, a book I once read at least ten times (probably more) back when I re-read favourite books the way other people breathed often? (i.e. with constant regularity) Well, it’s not bad. It is not a bad book. It’s just not a great book. It’s not a terribly… cohesive book. It reads exactly like the kind of book that might get written if you and a fellow writer swapped a floppy disc back and forth in the mail a bunch of times adding bits as you went. Which, of course, is exactly what it is. The things I remember about the book remain as good as I remember them being - which is a shame because all the really good bits I remember about the book are, with a few exceptions, in the first half (Death still incorrectly says Revelations instead of Revelation in the second half like I remember. He’s still wrong, and it’s still weird given that the right name is in the book earlier more than once.) Everything goes rapidly downhill the moment Armageddon actually kicks off... something of a problem in a book about Armageddon whose entire second half is Armageddon. I remember Aziraphale and Crowley being great together. What I didn’t remember is that they spend most of the book apart, a crime because they’re at their best bouncing off one-another and far weaker solo, especially Crowley who really only has Hastur to talk to and he’s not a great conversationalist. If I could ditch Crowley Drives Really Hard and swap it for A&C Do Shit Together I would. I remember Newt and Anathema becoming a couple. What I didn’t remember is that they are entirely superfluous to the narrative, as are the prophecies of Agnes Nutter herself. I kept trying to remember why it is that Newt and Anathema needed to be at the military base - turns out they don’t. Newt doesn’t even stop the countdown, that’s all Adam willing it otherwise. N&A then wander over to the main group and just kind of stand around. The only purpose of the prophecies is to give Aziraphale an idea of where Adam is. That’s it. This is extremely frustrating because Anathema talks about how working-out prophecies has allowed her family to triumph down the ages, and it sets Agnes up as someone who was executed for being a truth teller - for being an other - even though one day her prophecies would be so important for the world. But they're not! Their one tangible impact on the plot is to have Aziraphale make a phone call that he immediately hangs up. the prophecies only document the end of the world, they are irrelevent to the aversion of the End Times, which feels like one of several moments where the book Is Making A Point About Human Nature And Reader Expectations but is undone by my old friend lousy framing. Toy cannot position someone as having “they know not what they do” importance and then just not follow-through on that. There is, I think, a sense in the book that What It’s All About is quiet humanism: that the story isn’t really about Armageddon, but the smaller human stories that happened around it: Newt and Anathema falling in... love, I guess? Mindy Newt: Homer Anathema, What’s wrong? Homer Anathema: Like you don’t know! We’re going to have sex! Mindy Newt:: Oh … We don’t have to. Homer Anathema: Yes we do! The cookie Book told me so

Or Shadwell and Madame Tracey. And that’s great - that’s a great theme. But the book fails to pull it off - largely, I think because once Armageddon kicks off it loses the human dimension its trying to argue is important for keeping the planet grounded, not because its trying to make that point, but because the authors get so distracted by writing a bunch of crazy Armageddon stuff that the actual important work - like fleshing-out characters and their stories properly - goes away in the hurly-burly of Important Shit Going down.

Take Adam. Adam lacks any real sense of interiority and wears his heart on his sleeve, which makes the will-he, won’t-he nature of Armageddon on which the whole book rests have... well, zero weight. Will Adam give in to his more evil nature? No. Of course he won’t. It’s not even a case of “of course he won’t ‘cause I know how stories go don’t I ain’t I clever” - it’s that Adam has no evil nature. None at all. A bit of child-like self-absorption , but that’s it. The book climaxes with Aziraphale realizing that the AntiChrist won’t pick sides because he is neither entirely Good or Evil - he is Just A Human, and therefore kind of both. The book has done a great job showing that duality of humanity: Mr. young, for example, isn’t a bad man. Nor is he a good one. He’s an average man, with all sorts of awful little prejudices and thought patterns, but equally enough basic decency that nobody could call him a monster anymore than a saint. So often in the book people do Bad Things without being depraved lunatics - they just get caught up in the churning mediocrity of life, what Arendt dubbed the ‘banality of evil’ after the Eichmann trial. The telemarketers aren’t child killers, and they don’t deserve their (frankly sickening and brutal) deaths - but every day they hurt people in small, irritating, vexing ways, perpetuating some horrid not because they’re nightmares but because it’s just their job. Again, that’s great. That’s why the first part of the book is the strongest: it’s full of the kinds of humanity you don’t normally see in literature outside of the Golgafrinchan Ark Fleet Ship B. Desperately ordinary people - the real kind of ordinary, not the ordinary that tends to turn into anime heroes. But Adam isn’t ordinary. Not remotely. The book says this again and again, calling him a young Adonis, alluding to his unearthy Luciferian beauty, to his passions, to his commanding voice, to his leadership skills. His friends adore him, and for all that they might get argumentative with him the sheer god-like weight of his Presence cannot be ignored. So when Aziraphale explains:

"He was left alone! He grew up human! He's not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he's just… a human incarnate.”

My response is a rather limp “Um, well... no. No he’s not.”

“Aha!” I hear you cry. “The book’s not saying he’s ordinary, it’s saying he’s the embodiment of humanity: all their vices and virtues are amplified within him, and that’s why he has superhuman powers.” To which i reply that yeah, it’s certainly what the book is insisting in the case. But it’s not demonstrated within the text. I said above Adam lacks interiority: what you see is what you get. And what you get has zero amplification of evil. Adam seems like a genuinely good kid - in fact he is such a good kid that the book actually makes a point of commenting on how he is basically living in a parodic homage of a Boy’s Own Adventure novel. If Jack Trent, Frank Hardy, Tom Swift, and half the cast of Aladdin Paperbacks‘ first decade of publishing rolled up in a clown car and asked Adam if he wanted to hang, he’d fit right in. And they’re all painfully decent people. Adam status as a “troublemaker” - that is, even the vaguest implication that he is capable of “mischief” - is undermined by the book highlighting that the kind of people who complain about that sort of thing are Doddering Tory Blowhards like R. P. Taylor who wouldn’t know fun if it dressed like Margaret Thatcher and dry-humped their legs. For Adam to be the incarnation of humanity there has to be a sense that he is more human than human - that his capacity for good and his capacity for evil are so great that with him him the form of gestalt of pure humanity. But that’s rubbish. Because Adam does nothing the book seems to think is worthy of meaningful censure, or at least nothing that literally any child might do as well (like ruining his sisters dress while dunking her in the water). If the best the book can do to balance out Adam’s Local Boy Heroically Saves Summer Camp And Solves The Mystery Of The Puzzle Riddle Enigma is that well he’s kind of inward facing like every other 12 year old then, well... that really takes the wind out of the book’s big summating point. The same kind of language that gets used about Adam feel like you could copy past it into a Discworld book to describe Carrot Ironfoundersson.

So when, as happens. the book shows Adam coming Into his power and talk about Remaking The World, we don’t have to think he will and that all is lost - we know how to read stories, we’re not idiots. But we should at least have a passing moment of worry that he could had the circumstances been slightly different - that he, poised on the edge of good and evil, could go either way were it not for the redemptive power of his ordinary human upbringing keeping him ground. Which, I think is safe to say, is the conclusion the book puts forward. But there is no ‘could.’ Of course he won’t - there’s no tension there at all. The book kills it stone dead, in fact, when it notes that:

Seems to me it ought to be rolled up and started all over again," said Adam. That hadn't sounded like Adam's voice.

and

Adam wasn't listening, at least to any voices outside his own head.

Adam is described as basically being possessed - at the most critical point of Armageddon, when the AntiChrist is placed to make a choice not even between Good and Evil but between The Harbinger Theological Inevitability and Sod All That Let’s Just Keep Living Because I’m A Human it is no choice at all because Theological inevitable is distinctly described as being separate from who Adam is. Which is dreadful! Adam is American Dennis the Menace - he sometimes get Into Mischief and Breaks A Vase or Ruins A Garden but he’ll still hang out being a friend to a lonely old coot - when he ought to be much closer to the British Dennis the Menace - an monster of a child who spent most of his seventy years of existence essentially bullying gay kids (”softies”) but also, now and again, when the moon’s aligned, showed a Heart of Gold under his menacing exterior. Adam didn’t need to be BritDennis, but he damn well needed some kind of edge to him - a REAL edge, not ‘well he can be bossy’ or ‘he had devilment in his eyes’ or ‘he could be thoughtless.’ Adam needed to have scenes of him being a little shithead: not killing pets, but at least being spiteful or snide or capable of sin. In To Kill A Mockingbird Jem destroys Mrs. Dubose's flowers in a fit of pique. That’s something. Adam? Nothing. So there’s nothing to hang the tension on, and any time to book has any anxiety about Adam’s moral character it rings hollow, because Adam is fundamentally decent and good and nothing so much as feints at the idea that any part of him might be otherwise.

Plus, to bring it back to the prophecies being useless, Adam gets upset about the state of the world because he borrows some of Anathema’s Save The Wales magazines, which he would never have been able to do had the Book not made her go to Tadfield in the first place. Now the book has a certain “Butterfly Flaps Its Wings” mindset - sometimes it’s the little things that put big things and motion.

But it’s muddled, because it implies that Armageddon is nothing but a last-minute whim of a mercurial child: which is great for when the plot of your book is a deconstruction of the idea of Inevitability, but a bit rubbish when the OTHER major theme of your book is that human evil is in ordinary narrow-mindedness. The idea of a story where everything builds up to Armageddon - but Armageddon fails to arrive like an eschatological Godot, (leaving everyone standing around a bit puzzled) is a great theme for an ironic novel. But it clashes again and again with the theme of the book’s first half- that humanity is more creatively terrible and kindly virtuous than any devil and or angel could hope to be. The corollary of that ought to be that when Armageddon arrives it is precisely because of that human fallibility. Having all this build up and have it massively fizzle out can work, when written right - The Real Treasure Was The Friendships You Made is always funny when handled correctly. But Good omens builds up to things and drops them half a dozen times in the finale, which ends up not seemingly like comedic point but an inability by two authors to "bring the story home” and tie any of their threads together. I mean take the actual act of Armageddon itself: when Adam starts making the world go doo-lally, we keeping hearing reports of the world getting more agitated: we can see the shape of Armageddon begin to emerge, but because we’re still clever buggers and have read our Eliot we know that what’s likely to break the world isn’t going to be bang but a whimper: General John Amerioman gets off the phone agitated by a telemarketers, years at his secretary until she cries so she forgets to inform him that President McSmith called and because he didn’t call her back the President fails to get the advice she needs and makes a foolish error that pisses-over the Russian president who is then gets petty about something else and on down the line until a series of understandable but critical failures of empathy - don’t yell at your secretary, don’t cold-call people about duct cleaning - sets the table for the nuclear. That Adam stops it is because he shares that same fallibility and knows that punishing humanity for it as a requirement for Divine Inevitability would be unconscionable. But when Armageddon arrives, humanity has literal dick-all to do with it. We get this lovely buildup with the Four Horsemen the entire book - Revelation says they will be present at the Day of judgement so its time to get the band back together. The narrative of the book fixates of the Four Horseman’s ride to the airbase, with the understanding that once they arrive Armageddon will begin because everyone is congregating on that place at this time. So the Four Horseman arrive and... and the disguise themselves as some generals to get on the base, they break into a computer vault, and then... Jesus, War personally fucks with a computer and then Pollution personally corrodes the counter measure systems with Death and Famine stand around and watch (so much bloody standing around watching the plot happen in the part of the book) them do it, at which point all the nuke silos all over the world open up and countdown begins. What. THE FUCK? Humanity is irrelevant to the end of the world, exception in the broadest sense where they had these destructive weapons in the first place. But they also had extensive security systems that the book notes are really good until Two Supernatural Beings Broke In And Destroyed Them. There is no human element in Armageddon: all that chatter on the radio about rising tensions and increased stress? Meaningless. The book’s whole point about evil lurking in the hearts of every ordinary person - that really anyone is capable of being good or evil on a given day, and that one angry secretary is as capable of starting the end times because of a telemarketer as any raving dictator with their finger on the button? Irrelevant. As much as War and Pollution are said to be mere embodiments of humanity’s failings, existing solely in ‘THE MINDS OF MAN” (baffling in and of itself had Pestilence not been swapped-out for Pollution, because lets be honest that would have meant waving a hand at everything from the Black Death to AIDS and calling its source moral failing which what the fuck, T&N?), they’re all actually characters with agency and personality and will. Which means within the context of what’s happening Armageddon is caused by two characters going out of their way to FORCE it to happen.

(It’s! Shit! The book right here? Shit. All the keen oft-comedic insight as to the nature of the human condition is throw away in this moment. A book that seems so devoted to making a reader think seriously about complacency, about letting evil slip on by because its not wearing a big scary mask (and god how prescient that seems in times like these - how horrible correct it was that we were complacency in the 80s and the 90s and didn’t notice the evil rising all around us), drops the ball here and doesn’t require humanity for its climax.

"I don't see what's so triflic about creating people as people and then gettin' upset 'cos they act like people," said Adam severely. "Anyway, if you stopped tellin' people it's all sorted out after they're dead, they might try sorting it all out while they're alive.”

That’s a great sentiment, Adam. Only nobody is this moment is cross about people acting like people because nobody had - the world nearly ended because some Non-people willingly broke shit. Also, in the context of the novel - it being détente and glasnost and the Tear Down This Wall speech and Zhao Ziyang making reforms in China and on and on - as far as anyone could tell people WERE working it out. The book notes this explicitly, in fact:

“...reports available to us would seem to, uh, indicate an increase in international tensions that would have undoubtedly been viewed as impossible this time last week when, er, everyone seemed to be getting on so nicely.”

Again: Armageddon isn’t caused by people. So when Adam tells Heaven that if they just back off people might be able to sort things out for themselves, well... they seemed to have been doing just that, book.You yourself said so. And the end times were brought about by non-human actors.)

So Adam and his friends confront the Horseman and “defeat” them through some last minute cosplay. Why? No clue. The imagery is great but I don’t know why they do it - the Four Horseman are heralds of the end times, and perhaps its chorus, but now they’re villains that need to be defeated I guess (even though Adam fixes what they did with a wave of his hand anyway). Newt and Anathema arrive on the scene because Agnes Nutter told them to, and they get to the computer, and now maybe poor bumbling Newt is going to have to fix a computer when he’s only ever broken them while Anathema... stands there Jesus God... except... except Adam waves his hand and fixes the computer making Newt’s presence irrelevent. Well, still, more book to go, maybe they can pull something good out of this. Armageddon may have fizzled out, but it’s still The Day of Judgement and the Last Battle. Newt and Anathema might not have fixed the computer, but the are here at the airbase, and they make the most of it by doing nothing, providing nothing, and being needed for nothing. Shadwell and Madame Tracey are there - Shadwell is the vessel for Aziraphale, and once he’s out he stands at the sides with A&C and prepares to march with them on the combined hordes of hell and heaven. Except that that doesn’t matter because Adam makes a gesture and gives a nice speech that’s sadly unrelated to to the world as described by Good Omens up to this point, and the Hordes of Heaven and Hell shuffle their feet and decided to go home for a bit to have a good long think about some things ha ha ha how droll. And the Then, oh no, SUDDENLY Satan himself appears - I guess its time to take our issues to upper management, surely Godot- I mean God - will come to and - oh, nope, Adam waved his hand again and its just Mr. Young in his shitty car (that really should have been a Wasabi what the heck, T&N?). It’s anti-climatic. I don’t mean from a standpoint of dramatic irony, I mean everything falls apart in the book as the story comes to a screeching halt. Here you have a reasonable collection of painfully ordinary people (hella white and straight people, but its 1990 we’re not terribly woke yet) - not Generals, not Presidents or Prime Ministers, not Corporate Titans or Dictators or anyone “Important” - just ordinary people present at the End of the World. And what is it in the ineffable plan that requires all these people’s presence at the End Times? Nothing really. Just think about this for a moment. Think about what OUGHT to have happened here. Not a battle, not a fight, not a war - we know from Endgame how disappointing it is to have to sit through a big dumb set piece battle that nobody seems to want: boring slog. No, what OUGHT to have happened is the power of humanity: that these ordinary nobodies come together and halt the end times, make the Legions of Heaven & Hell see - if not reason - then at least reconsider what’s happening, or even confront Satan himself not with the virtue of Saints but simply because they have what made Aziraphale and Crowley fall in love with the Earth the way they did: the charm of humanity. If an angel and a demon can both be redeemed by the love of humanity’s virtues and vices, its deeps and faults, then why couldn’t Satan himself do the same? Well, because Adam fixed everything with a few hand waves and a pissy speech so that’s all that solved. nobody but him needed to be there - not even A&C, who just end up commenting on the action while standing around like everyone else. It’s barmy. No wonder my brain erased it, choosing to remember the book at its best when it was still scaled to humanity. The book ends up having failed to make any of its points stick - the ordinary evil men do has nothing to do with Armageddon so its probably not something we should be terrible concern about - that just us loveable old humans doing as humans do. We learn that if Heaven and hell just stepped back and let people talk things out maybe the world would get better - but that was the case at the start of the book (prologue notwithstanding), and nothing that happened in the book adjusted that in any way.It has a point to make about the unfairness of Moral duality in Theology - except that Adam is parodically virtuous and contains no real evil so.. yeah, Good is great, actually, what was the point you were making, book? The book has a point to make about the value of ordinary people: if you need someone to stand around and observe shit get ordinary people, they’re great last standing around and not meaningfully doing anything.

And don’t even get me started on things like Anathema’s passivity. Look at her character: she passively lives her life by the prophecies until the day after the End Times Newt says ‘hey do you want to be a descendent for the rest of your life’ and Anathema has an epiphany - Oh, No, I Don’t, I Want to Live my Own life On Its Own Terms - and then they burn the sequel Agatha wrote instead of following it. But that’s… aaargh, Jesus, so many problems with that. The moment of epiphany is meaningless because if Agnes-The-Prophet (who would presumably have known that her manuscript was to be burnt) hadn’t sent it, Anathema was free anyways and would have had to live her life as such regardless. You could argue ‘but this way it becomes an active choice rather than a passive acquiescence to something she can’t change’ but the problem is that her decision isn’t rooted in anything except a comment Newt makes. Nothing happened to Anathema that has in any way affected her relationship to Agnes Nutter or her life as a decedent: in the book Anathema talks a lot about prophecies, lends a kid some magazine, boinks a guy who crashed his car, takes him to a military base, does nothing while watching the world end, goes home and boinks the guy again, and then has her memories of a large portion of the last day or so erased by the Anti-Christ. So when Newt asks ‘do you want to be a professional decedent all your life” why would she say “no”? She’s spent her life devoted to the prophecies, even become a watch as some kind of career, and what sense do we have in the story that she is dissatisfied with that? The only disappointment we get is that she’s kind of let down by Newt being not terribly handsome - but that’s Newt’s issue, not Agnes’. The book wants Anathema to realize that she is now ‘free” of living by prophecy - but she doesn’t ever give the sense that she feels imprisoned by prophecy. She seems to feel like its a mark of distinction, and nothing over the last day - even the shit she can’t remember - has done anything to change that. There’s a version of this story where Anathema repeatedly demonstrates that she feels powerless in life: that all her choices were chosen for her, even something as outré as becoming a witch, and so when Newt asks her that question she looks back over the events of the last few days - or even her life - and makes the decision to say ‘no’ as a natural extension of her recent experiences. In this version of the book she and Newt would have to have actively made choices at the airbase of their own free will in contradiction of what Agnes said MUST and WILL happen, and because they did that things are better than Agnes said they would be.

But that doesn’t happen, and instead we get the version where Anathema burns the sequel because Newt’s in her life now and having a man to point out the obvious is what all women need. That’s not what the book is trying to say but this-time-round that’s how it read to me. If Newt had had to run up to London for a couple days and she got the manuscript in the mail she would have kept it, because why wouldn’t she?

(Gosh, Newt. One last point: I hated Newt. Maybe ‘schlubbly ordinary dope who gets the girl’ was revolutionary in 1990 but thirty years of pathetic nerd heroes getting the girl have left me only able to focus on the pathetic. He gets to be the the Jen to Anathema’s Kira - a completely useless dolt who gets lead around by a capable woman who knows everything and has all the skills but he still gets to be The Hero because, well, he’s the dude. He gets to bumble around the missile computers at the climax at the book, framed as a hero while Agetha stands there and pleads with him to fix things. He spends his time getting horny for Anathema and thinking sadboy ‘maybe I’ll get to touch a girl for once’ crap - which made my skin crawl oh sweet Jesus. Basically just fuck that guy and his whiny Pitiful Loser Nerd attitude.)

Look, when the book is good, it is SO GOOD. “Shadwell hated all Southerners and, by inference, was standing at the North Pole” is one of the great lines of literature. Famine and the dieting meals that kill you? Genius. The individual prophecies of Agnes? Wonderful. Shadwell seeing her in a vision (which, alas, comes to nothing because Shadwell having a change of heart about witches comes to nothing really)? Poignant. The Hell’s Angels? Wonderous. The incredible, perfect, oh god I adore is so much defence of the virtues of Rural English life at its best - full of foibles, yes, painfully human, yes, liable to contain shitty old Tories who put people into power who’ll plow it all under for suburbs, yes - but yet, at the same time, wonderful, too. Worth preserving. Worth fighting for. yes yes a thousand times yes let’s seeing a song about it:

youtube

Sure, some of the stuff hasn’t aged well (there’s a bit abut First Nations people that comes to mind), but most of it has - and some of it as bold for its time as it remains now. I frequently found myself thinking “this book is much too complicated for Tumblr” - the Tumblr world of Good or Bad doesn’t really have room for Shadwell, the indiscriminate racist with the heart of gold. Parts like that had me shaking with laughter - I can still recite whole scenes to you with manic glee. But the ending is a mess. It’s bad, actually - just outright bad. The book starts great. It ends terribly. It’s a crushing disappointment to go back too - and when I heard the story on the show was going to be super-faithful to the books I went “shit - but the book’s a bit rubbish on the story front. All the good bits are the characters interacting and the side stories and comedic asides - the actual story is a confusing mess.” That’s why I hope Neil Gaiman brought the writing chops that gave us The Doctor Wife and not, y’know, Nightmare in Silver.

In conclusion: man I remember Good Omens being a whole lot better. (Also, I remember more of Adam’s Gang having more to do, and they didn’t, and they’re all great and that’s a shame.)

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ccaptain · 18 days

Text

While H:SR Kaeya's ways of having fun may look silly, and sometimes his joyous reactions may take people by surprise, there's unfortunately a sad truth that was already pointed out that explains it:

Becoming an active part of the Enigmata ''beings'' isn't always an happy experience- if at all.

Most of Kaeya's time is spent in a deeply melancholic contemplation of his mission and his destiny. There are many enemies that refuse to see his point of view and that have tried to chase or harm him, deaf to his explanations, and surely he's fated to make many more along the road. When observed closely, there's this distant expression on his face and too many thoughts in his head, and too many boulders on his shoulders.

When there's a way to feel even a slighty spark of happiness, he'll take and indulge into it until he has to go.

Be it a silly moment shared with a friend over a jiggly pudding, or a night out with drinks and chatting while the sun rises outside of a tavern. He has learned that a night of singing his heart out at a karaoke with strangers and friends alike is just as soothing as a good night of sleep, too. He likes to bake, and is quite apt at it as long as it's not a multilayered, complicated cake, and it excites him to try how good he can do each time. He has taken up cooking too, and is passable in some dishes. He'll seize the occasion of a long travel and take pictures with his phone to show Siobhan when he's back home, or to send them to his friends. He can mix drinks quite well, and will show that talent off to anyone, if allowed to. He finds the warmth of a bonfire warding away the cold of the night enthrancing, and will watch as the embers die out and he's plunged back into darkness. He had many occasions to dance in heavy rain, content with how fresh the droplets felt on his skin and not minding being soaked after. He watches an hurricane devastate everything in his path, coming for him with the wind whipping his hair across his face, and was awestruck at the strenght of nature.

He has seen the northern lights, and was so mesmerized by them that, for a long moment, he forgot the heaviness he carries with him.

His room, a space in the middle of nowhere, is impersonal in the decorations. His sheets are of a anonymous light blue, his closet of an anonymous brown, and his furniture is spartan and lacking. And then, there are the trinkets.

Plenty of them. Laid on every high surface he could find, on every empty shelf, on the nightstand, on the windowshill with the curtains drawn back. Little shimmering crystals, small animals with fake gemstones for eyes, funny-looking rocks, some bandaids never unwrapped but clearly given to him, coins from other planets, the littlest toy guns known to man, including colorful waterguns, soft toys to squeeze to keep the stress at bay. Rusted-over, old toy cars, clean cups, small glasses that glimmer in a sun that will never rise in the space where Kaeya's room is. All of those and more are displayed for himself to see each time he wishes to, from new and old friends he made along the way that are no longer alive.

He has a diffuser with a pleasing scent of jasmine and sandal going at all times. He has acquired a projector that shines a pre-made set of patterns that glow and move in the dark and that he could stare at for hours, laying on his bed in company or alone, feeling absolute calmness.

Kaeya's friends probably don't know how vital and necessary they are for him: in a way, they keep him sane. When they laugh with him, they make him think that the burden he has is worth carrying, if it means that they cross paths, ever once in a blue moon, and can share a moment of company or even travel together, off to adventures and places to see and explore.

Even if a person he's close to will, one day, turn against him, Kaeya will still bear no grudge and cherish the memories of their happy moments, and the camaraderie they shared before things turned for the worst.

#from another realm ━ (ooc)#riddle me this; is everything that you remember real and nothing but the pure truth? ━ (H:SR V.)#me: i am fine about this :) (has been crying trying to write this for the past 30 mins)

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fo4companionsas · 6 years

Note

Howdy! Could you please do a react to sole dying? Maybe make it super heart wrenching (I'm a sap). Thanks! (By the way - just found your blog and I love it 😍😘)

Thank you! And I’m sorry this took an eternity and I’m sorry it’s so damn long and probably riddled with typos. I wanted it to be like a prequel to the reaction of Sole coming back to life and I got a little to into it. Warning: very angsty.

—

Bullets seemed to rain, the shattering sound of gunfire amalgamating into a blanket wall of sound, the walls of the shack they had entered in search of shelter torn apart by blunt force. The raiders had come from nowhere, their guard had been down and their ammunition already depleted. They were overpowered, and without saying anything, with the brief eye contact made between them in between ineffectual reloads and pained cries, a brief glance that signaled an apology, an understanding, a goodbye.

After an amount of immeasurable time, the abrupt attacks had slowed and the sounds of chaos had silenced. When there were no immediate attackers, they took a moment to collect their composure. They yelled for sole, who had disappeared in the long stretch of disarray.

Sole yelled back from outside, filling them with a sense of boundless relief. When they left the shack, they saw sole, injured but giddy to loot the raider corpses that littered the area. Sole’s face lit up when they the companion, willfully ignorant of the danger they just faced. Before Sole could say anything, a deafening shot rang out, and to their horror, they could see the lightness of Sole’s face vanish before dropping limply to the ground and revealing a gun-wielding raider behind them.

Cait- She instantly burst out in a scream of rage. Her pistol, already drawn and loaded, burned hot with the amount of bullets she unloaded in the raider. It fell to the ground, barely human and more resembling a gory mess of swiss cheese. She didn’t even stop to admire the carnage, she had already slid through the dirt to Sole’s body. She tries to pull them up from the ground, but only succeeds in smothering the both of them in the growing pool of blood.

“You can’t fuckin’ leave me, you can’t” She cried, feeling herself slip away, seeing the only person she cared about fade from existence. She fell backwards, collapsing in a bust of dust. She figured she’d stay there, for who knows how fucking long. She was completely alone.

Curie- It took her a moment to process what had happened. The her relief was drained so quickly, the moment of catharsis rotted by a shift to the sinister. She drew her rifle and in one fluid motion, cranked it to maximum damage and reduced the raider to a pile of ash. She glided to Sole’s side, taking their vitals and assessing their condition. Her face felt unfamiliarly hot, her eyes stinging with unfamiliar tears.

“Madame/Monsieur…” She pleaded, her voice catching in her throat. Pressure on the wound didn’t help, her chest soaked and heavy in blood. It was worthless, they were gone.

Codsworth- With mechanical swiftness, Codsworth shot down the raider and glided to Sole who lay lifeless on the dirt.

“Sir/Ma’am,” he posed as he glided towards them. He just assumed his processing was off, because he picked up no life signs in the vicinity, but as he hovered over Sole’s body, the truth became remarkably clear. He knew they were dead. Unsure of what to do, where to go, how to move forward, he searched the area. After hours of scavenging about a mile radius, he found what he was looking for. He returned to the body and extended a metal talon above them, dropping an immaculate, pale flower onto their chest.

“Goodbye… old friend…” He said just before turning around and gliding back to Sanctuary.

Danse- Despite having a rifle accessible, he charged the raider in full power armor, somehow annihilating it in a mess of steel and blood. Once he was positive that they were thoroughly crushed to hell, he forced himself to turn to the lifeless form on the wasteland floor.

He felt himself exit his power armor, although he felt barely in control of his own body. He stood over Sole for minutes, recognizing the same vacancy in their eyes that he was so used to seeing in the eyes of other fallen soldiers. But this was different. This was Sole.

He felt himself light and throw a signaling flare, and then tenderly lifted the body with some difficulty as he tried to fight his own shaking as he listened to the vertibird circle the empty sky. He figured he’d bring Sole back to the Prydwen, or something. His uncertainty felt unfamiliar and disturbing, but he didn’t care. Nothing felt the same.

Deacon- Deacon froze. What the fuck just happened? Without even thinking or visibly emoting, he drew his handgun and easily shot down the raider. He forced himself to make his way to Sole.

“Nothing like a good bullet to the chest to wake you up, huh?” He chuckled. He was off his game, his heart sinking as he got closer. Sole wasn’t moving. Despite everything in his mind screaming the truth, he continued to believe the lie.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. You’ve played the joke out. Time to head out,” He said, hoping his sarcasm would negate the realness of the scene, but seeing the blank, pale expression on Sole’s face hit him like a punch of painful reality.

Feeling his knees buckle under him, he hit the dirt right next to Sole’s body. He held their face in his hand, feeling the growing coldness of their skin, he knew he needed to see them—really see them— one last time. He took off his sunglasses and let them fall beside him to the dirt.

He trembled, feeling Sole’s face in his hand. A glint of silver caught his hazy vision and he saw the chain around Sole’s neck, holding two wedding rings rather than a pendant.

Deacon lightly unhinged it and took it from their neck and latched it around his own. Not looting—protecting. For once it didn’t feel like a disguise, it felt like the truth.

Dogmeat- Dogmeat charged the raider and bit deeply into their calf, dropping them to the ground before issuing a deadly lunge. As he realized that the raider was no longer struggling, he pulled away and looked towards Sole, who laid unmoving in the dirt.

He nuzzled their head and limply pawed at their chest, but none of this elicited any movement. He didn’t understand. After deciding that Sole was just deeply asleep or unconscious, he circled their body and curled up by their side. He wanted to be there when Sole woke up.

Hancock- Without missing a beat, Hancock pulled his shotgun and obliterated the raider. “FUCKING COCKSUCKER!” He burst as the raider fell to the ground. He ran to Sole and crumpled beside their lifeless body. He shook them, trying fruitlessly to shake back their consciousness.

“Come on sunshine, you can’t do this to me” He coarsely croaked out, holding Sole’s face in his roughly calloused hand. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t possibly understand how the one person who accepted them so blindly could be gone.

After thoroughly self-numbing through a myriad of chems, booze, and other hardening substances, he picked up Sole’s body and personally carried them back to Goodneighbor. A silence fell over the town as Hancock entered carrying the corpse of the Commonwealth hero. He didn’t give a fuck about them, though— The only one he cared about was gone.

Macready- He paused a moment, out of shock, confusion, and fear. As soon as he came back to his body he pulled his pistol and silently shot down the raider, right between the eyes.

He slowly approached Sole, hovering above them for a moment and then crumpling to his knees. Tears streamed down his face as he saw the deadness of theirs, a blank expression he was all-to familiar with. He lifted his face from his palms and looked up to the apocalyptic nothingness that surrounds then shouted, letting his echoes fill the wasteland,

“FUCK!!!”

He collapsed to the ground, shaking. Sole was their rock, what else was left to tether him to life?

Nick- He sneered as he pulled drew his pistol and shot the raider right through the chest, and chuckled as they dropped. He sauntered over to Sole, who lay motionless in the dirt.

“You all right, kid? He kinda caught you off guard there,” He asked, but was met with no response. He noticed Sole’s face now, their vacant open eyes and slightly agape mouth, their still muscles and unmoving chest. His silicon brow furrowed, the gravity of dark realization pressing against him.

He fell to the ground beside Sole and grazed their face with his sharp, mechanical hand. Were they any different now?

“I’m so sorry kid… I’m so sorry” He said in a low, almost-whisper.

Piper- Her smile still lingered on her face, but in a hollow, absent way.

“…Blue?” She nearly whispered, her mind at an impasse between reality and it’s pure devastation. She must have hesitated too long in her shock, because shots began to rain out around her, the raider cocky and still fueled with bloodlust. After a couple of misfires, Piper managed to pierce the raider fatally in the neck, allowing her to Rush to Sole’s body. She fumbled for a pulse, but felt nothing, and felt a sob slowly rise inside her.

Piper let the tears stream down her face as she ran her hand through Sole’s hair, pressing her forehead to theirs. She let the emotions and the pain fill her up, overwhelmed by the poetic irony of the Commonwealth hero taken down by a single bullet from a stray raider in the middle of goddamn nowhere.

“I’m so sorry Blue,” She whispered, “But I promise you… You will be remembered.”

Preston- “GENERAL!” He shouted in an almost cinematic melodrama as he watched Sole fall to the dirt. He spared no time cranking his laser musket and swiftly reducing the raider to a pile of ash. He took a second, because to approach them, to go by Sole’s side might confirm something he so desperately didn’t want to be true.

As he did, however, he knew his nauseating gut feeling was correct. Sole was gone. He sat beside them for a while, letting his emotions take over, vulnerable, defeated.

It was nearly dark by the time Preston decided that he should get up, move forward, but only because he new undoubtedly that it’s what Sole would have wanted.

He spent hours through the night digging. By hand, because this was something that needed to be done the hard way. Sole deserved a proper burial. Once the ground was sealed and partially packed, their body becoming one with the cracked dirt around them. Sole fashioned a tower of jagged rocks to cover the now distinctive plot of earth. He paused a moment, and before walking away, stated,

“I’m sorry I failed you General. I… I hope you find peace where you are now.”

Strong- Strong charged and pummeled the raider, reducing it to a bloody pulp.

“Strong hates puny men,” He said turning to Sole, “bones crush too easy.” As he walked towards them, he noticed the absence of Sole’s usual chuckle, and instead the unmoving slump of their body.

“Did tiny bullet hurt human?” asked Strong, trying to mask his annoyance. But Sole didn’t respond, and an acutely unfamiliar anxiety arose in the Super Mutant. He knelt by their side and placed a heavy hand on their chest, feeling his heart sink as they weren’t filled with their usual bated breath.

As delicately as he could, he used his massive fingers to close their still-opened eyes.

“Strong is sorry,” He said as quietly as ever, “Strong will miss this human.”

X6-88- The courser tilted his laser rifle and in a matter of seconds reduced the raider to a smoldering pile. He admired his handiwork for just a moment, and then sauntered over to Sole’s side.

“He got you pretty good, didn’t he,” he said, before noticing Sole’s vague stare and limp features. He knelt down to them with cool casualty, placing a hand on Sole’s arm and trying fruitlessly to shake them awake. A feeling of poignant discomfort filled him in exchange for grief, his accustomation to death making it all the more distressing at this proximity.

He simply laid Sole’s gun on there chest and folded their arms over it, as if they had been at peace. Not able to look at their lifelessness anymore, he turned to leave the scene. Before doing so he looked back at them.

“Goodbye,” He stated almost factually, then falling to a moment of sentimentality, “friend.”

#fallout 4 #fallout #companions react #fo4 #i'm sorry #angst

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dfroza · 3 years

Text

Love is eternal life.

and in Light our hearts belong to our heavenly Father, forever.

this is the most beautiful thought you can think, being illuminated by the Spirit in clear view of the Son.

and what we’re truly longing for in this world, is Heaven. because it is our True Home and it is pure Love. but we’re also here for a reason, for a time, which includes not only sharing this truth but conserving it as well.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 13th chapter of the Letter of First Corinthians where Paul writes about Love:

If I were to speak with eloquence in earth’s many languages, and in the heavenly tongues of angels, yet I didn’t express myself with love, my words would be reduced to the hollow sound of nothing more than a clanging cymbal.

And if I were to have the gift of prophecy with a profound understanding of God’s hidden secrets, and if I possessed unending supernatural knowledge, and if I had the greatest gift of faith that could move mountains, but have never learned to love, then I am nothing.

And if I were to be so generous as to give away everything I owned to feed the poor, and to offer my body to be burned as a martyr, without the pure motive of love, I would gain nothing of value.

Love is large and incredibly patient. Love is gentle and consistently kind to all. It refuses to be jealous when blessing comes to someone else. Love does not brag about one’s achievements nor inflate its own importance. Love does not traffic in shame and disrespect, nor selfishly seek its own honor. Love is not easily irritated or quick to take offense. Love joyfully celebrates honesty and finds no delight in what is wrong. Love is a safe place of shelter, for it never stops believing the best for others. Love never takes failure as defeat, for it never gives up.

Love never stops loving. It extends beyond the gift of prophecy, which eventually fades away. It is more enduring than tongues, which will one day fall silent. Love remains long after words of knowledge are forgotten. Our present knowledge and our prophecies are but partial, but when love’s perfection arrives, the partial will fade away. When I was a child, I spoke about childish matters, for I saw things like a child and reasoned like a child. But the day came when I matured, and I set aside my childish ways.

For now we see but a faint reflection of riddles and mysteries as though reflected in a mirror, but one day we will see face-to-face. My understanding is incomplete now, but one day I will understand everything, just as everything about me has been fully understood. Until then, there are three things that remain: faith, hope, and love—yet love surpasses them all. So above all else, let love be the beautiful prize for which you run.

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 13 (The Passion Translation)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 48th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that points to the significance of adhering to truth:

“Listen carefully, O Jacob’s tribes,

you who are called by the name Israel

and come from the lineage of Judah,

who solemnly swear in the name of Yahweh

and claim to worship the God of Israel.

But there is no truth or righteousness in your confession!

Indeed, you name yourselves after the holy city

and say that you depend upon Israel’s God.

Yahweh, the Commander of Angel Armies, is his name.

“Long ago I prophesied things that would happen.

I issued decrees and made them known.

Then suddenly, I acted and made them happen.

I knew you were stubborn.

Your neck is like a rod of iron,

and you’re as hard-hearted as brass!

Long ago I told you these things.

Long before they happened

I proclaimed them

so you would never be able to say,

‘My idols did this;

my wood and metal idols decreed it!’

You have heard what I foretold and have seen it all unfold,

so admit that it happened and I was right!

From now on I will tell you about new things never seen before,

hidden things, well-guarded secrets you know nothing about.

They are created now, brand new today, not long ago!

You’ve never heard of them before now,

so you cannot say, ‘Oh, I already knew about that.’

You have never heard nor understood;

your ear had not been opened beforehand.

Though I knew that you would fight against me

as a rebel from birth,

yet, for the sake of my great name and for my glory,

I held back my anger and was patient with you

so I did not whittle you down to nothing.

See, I have purified you in the furnace of adversity,

but not like silver—I have refined you in the fire.

For my own sake alone I will do it,

so my name will not be dishonored.

I will not yield my glory to another.

“Listen to me, O Jacob,

Israel, whom I have called:

I am the One and Only,

the First and the Last.

With my mighty hand I laid the foundation of the earth;

with the span of my right hand I spread out the cosmos.

And when I speak to them, they both stand at attention.

Now, all of you gather around and listen.

Which of the gods has foretold these things?

I, Yahweh, love this man,

and he will carry out my purpose against Babylon.

He will be my “arm of might” against the Babylonians!

I am the one; yes, I am the one

who called him by name before he was born.

I have led him forward on a prosperous, successful path.

“Draw near to me and listen:

From the beginning, I have not spoken in secret.

From the beginning of time, I was there.”

And now Lord Yahweh has sent me, empowered by his Spirit!

This is what Yahweh, your Kinsman-Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel says:

“I am Yahweh, your God.

I am the One who teaches you how to succeed

and who leads you step by step in the way you should go.

If only you had listened to my commands,

then peace would have flowed like a river for you

and success would wash over you like waves of the sea.

Your children would have multiplied

to become like the sand of the seashore

and your descendants like grains of sand.

There would be no end of them,

and I would not cut them off.”

Go! Leave Babylon!

Flee from Chaldea!

Announce it with joyous singing!

Let everyone know!

Proclaim it to the ends of the earth!

Say it loud and clear:

“Yahweh has rescued his servant Jacob!”

The people weren’t thirsty

when he led them through barren, desolate deserts,

for he broke open the rock for water to flow for them.

The rock was split open, and rivers gushed out!

“There is never peace,” Yahweh says, “for the wicked.”

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 48 (The Passion Translation)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for monday, july 26 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about not giving in to fear:

Most of us understand that loving God is our essential obligation, the end or "goal" of all the other commandments, the very reason why God has spoken and why we exist. Yeshua plainly taught that this was the point of "the Torah and the prophets," the rest being commentary (Matt. 7:12, Matt. 22:36-40). However, while love is our greatest duty - the yoke of heaven - you might be surprised to learn that the most frequent commandment is simply al-tirah, "Be not afraid." Over and over again in the Scriptures we hear the LORD saying to those who trust in Him, al tira, "be not afraid" (Isa. 41:10).

This is a word for the exiles of every age: Be not afraid - al-tirah – not of man, nor of war, nor of tribulation, nor even of death itself (Rom. 8:35-39). If God be for us, who can be against us? Indeed, Yeshua came to die to destroy the power of death "and to release all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery" (Heb. 2:14-15). The resurrection of the Messiah is the focal point of history - not the "dust of death." Death does not have the final word. Indeed, because Yeshua is alive, we also shall live (John 14:19). Because of Yeshua's victory, we can now live without fear: al-tirah, "Be not afraid, it is I." "There is no fear in God’s perfect love," as the Apostle John wrote (1 John 4:18). If we love God because He first loved us (1 John 4:19), then we find courage because of the heart He imparts to us... God will uphold you – even in the trials of your faith.

Of course this doesn't mean that we should pretend that evil doesn't exist or that there's no real danger in this world. No, the Scriptures are clear that there are spiritual enemies in the world and we are engaged in a genuine spiritual war (1 Pet. 5:8-9; Eph. 6:10-18). Indeed every day the media attempts to frighten us by broadcasting lies and fearmongering propaganda. We must fight these messages of fear by remembering the truth and promises of God; we must never fear mere men but rather the LORD our God, who is our Maker, our King, and our Redeemer. We must train our minds to see beyond mere appearances, to ignore the messages of this dark world, and to look for God’s Presence in everything.

We must trust in the LORD and His care for our lives, which always comes “as we hope” in Him... May it please God to impart to each of us the courage that comes from Heaven itself. May He help us not to live in fear, but rather to walk in faith, full of confidence. So remember: al-tirah, "be not afraid!" Let us be strong and be strengthened in Yeshua our King!

Shabbat Shalom, chaverim, and thank you for praying for me this week; it truly helped me... [Hebrew for Christians]

7.23.21 • Facebook

and another about choosing our treasure:

Your faith must mean something to you if it is to mean anything to God, for “without faith it is impossible to please him” (Heb. 11:6). There must be agreement between your heart and what is real. The LORD must be your “ultimate concern,” the passion of your heart, your desperate treasure, or he will be as nothing to you (Matt. 13:12; Luke 8:18). God’s Name is Savior, Healer, Redeemer - the One who is everlastingly interested in your life (Heb. 4:13). As the late Abraham Heschel once remarked, "God is of no importance unless He is of supreme importance." Likewise King David said, echat sha'alti me'et Adonai, otah avakesh: "One thing I ask of the Lord; that is what I will seek" (Psalm 27:4). David asked for one thing – not many things. He did not come with a litany of requests. He was not double minded. He had focus. As Kierkegaard said, "purity of the heart is to will one thing." David sought the best he could find. He wanted the "pearl of great price."

The most important thing in life is to decide what is the most important thing in life - and then to act accordingly. Time is short for all of us, and it is more vital than ever to find healing for our woundedness. We have to quit pretending to be what we aren't and learn to be honest and vulnerable. Spirituality without honesty and humility is a sham. If you don't know how to begin, then begin there - by knowing your confusion, your need for the miracle of God's help and direction... For instance, if you don't know how to really love, then confess your heart's condition and pray for the miracle you need. It is a great mercy to be broken, in desperate need of heart, afflicted, tested, and in mourning. As it is written, "God has compassion for the lowly and broken, and saves the souls of the powerless" (Psalm 72:13).

When God said, "Let there be light, and there was light" (Gen. 1:3), He seemed to put on light as a robe of the Divine Majesty and Kingship: He wrapped Himself with radiance as a tallit gadol... Da lifnei mi attah omed (דַּע לִפְנֵי מִי אַתָּה עוֹמֵד) – "Know before whom you stand." The whole earth is lit up with God's glory, and every bush of the field is aflame before us -- if we have eyes to see (Isa. 6:3). May it please the LORD to open our spiritual eyes so that we can behold more of His glory and majesty in this hour... Amen. [Hebrew for Christians]

7.26.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

July 26, 2021

His Precious Blood

“But the LORD thundered with a great thunder on that day upon the Philistines, and discomfited them; and they were smitten before Israel. And the men of Israel went out of Mizpeh, and pursued the Philistines, and smote them….Then Samuel took a stone...and called the name of it Ebenezer, saying, Hitherto hath the LORD helped us.” (1 Samuel 7:10-12)

The Philistines had stolen the Ark of the Covenant, given to Israel by God. In a battle to take it back, the Lord miraculously intervened, routed the Philistines, and retrieved the Ark. Samuel, the spiritual leader of Israel, ordered the people to erect a lasting “stone of remembrance” called Ebenezer to commemorate God’s deliverance of them from their enemies, a scene reflected in the hymn “Come Thou Fount.”

Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by thy help I come;

And I hope by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger, wandering from the fold of God;

He, to rescue me from danger, interposed His precious blood.

The great “Hall of Fame” of faith in Hebrews 11 extols many biblical heroes for their great works of faith and then mentions those who would overcome after Bible times, persevering through deadly trials. Some survived, some were killed, some wandered to find their dwelling place, but all needed rescue through the shed blood of God’s own Son. For you “know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold….but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot” (1 Peter 1:18-19), “which he shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Savior” (Titus 3:6). Please come quickly, Thou Fount. JDM

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swanqueeneverafter · 6 years

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35. A Curious Thing, Pt.2

Storybrooke. Present. Granny’s Bed and Breakfast. (David re-enters the room after ending a telephone call.) David: “Gold’s was a dead end, that was Belle. No book in the shop.” Mary Margaret: “Regina, you said the last place you saw it was Henry’s room.” Regina: “Yes, but it’s not there. Swept away by the last curse.” David: “A book can’t just disappear.” Mary Margaret: “But it can just appear. The first curse. It just showed up in my closet, when I needed it. Or more accurately, when Henry needed it.” Emma: “What do you mean?” Mary Margaret: “He was going through a rough time. He was realizing he had been given up. He didn’t feel like he had a real family.” Regina: (Hurt at hearing this:) “He did.” Mary Margret: “That may be. But, Regina, he wasn’t feeling that way with you or with anyone. He needed to believe in happy endings again. That’s what the book gave him.” Regina: “Well, he needs to believe again. In fact, I think we all do. What do you say we go check your closet?” Granny’s Diner. (Regina, Emma, Mary Margaret and David walk through Granny’s Diner. Emma approaches Henry.) Emma: “Hey kid. I gotta run. I have to check on a lead. You’re okay to stay here longer? (Kisses his head:) I’ll call you later.” (Henry watches Emma leaving and then decides to follow her outside.) Henry: “Where are you really going?” Emma: (Turns around:) “I told you. I’m following a lead.” Henry: “What lead?” Emma: “It’s my job. It’s complicated.” Henry: “Is this about the person who killed my dad?” Emma: (Reluctant:) “Y…Yes.” Henry: “Then tell me.” Emma: “It would just be easier once it’s all solved, Henry.” Henry: “You’ve been lying to me ever since we got here. Clearly you’ve been here before and... (Looks at Regina:) she is obviously your girlfriend. So I want the truth. I deserve to know everything.” Emma: “No, you don’t! I’m your mother and I know best. So, you’re just gonna have to deal with this for now, okay? Understood?” (Regina watches this exchange with a tense look on her face.) Henry: “Yeah, I think I do. (Emma starts to walk away:) Wait. I need your keys. I left mine in the room and if I’m gonna be a prisoner I’d like to have my Game Boy.” (Emma hands him her keys. Henry enters Granny’s Diner again. Quickly walking past the guests, he exits the house through the rear entrance. Using the keys, he then unlocks Emma’s parked car. Henry’s unaware that Hook stands behind him watching.)

Hook: “Where are you off to there, mate?” Henry: (Turns around:) “Uh, nowhere.” Hook: “You’re quite in the rush to go nowhere.” Henry: “Fine. I’m going home.” Hook: “Mm. You’re running away.” Henry: “Whatever.” Hook: “So, you’re planning on driving all the way back to New York? One lesson and you think you’re ready for that?” Henry: “No, just to the nearest bus station.” Hook: “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. It’s too dangerous.” Henry: “I don’t care what you think.” (Henry opens the car door.) Hook: (Closes the door again:) “Well, you should. Cause I’ve got a better way.” Blanchard Loft. (Emma, Mary Margaret, David and Regina are looking for Henry’s storybook. David and Regina search the bedroom, Mary Margaret and Emma the closet. Regina opens one suitcase and looks inside searching for the book. It’s empty. David opens a chest. Shoe boxes are stored inside.) David: (Picks one shoe box and sets it aside:) “Why do women keep their shoe boxes?” Mary Margaret: (Overhearing the remark:) “Because after true love there is no more powerful magic than footwear. It has to be protected.” Emma: “Any sign of the book?” David: (Shuts the chest:) “No. I don’t think it’s here.” Mary Margaret: “You don’t know that.” Emma: (Carrying another wooden chest, she joins David and Regina:) “Maybe it’s in this thing. (Places the chest on the bed and opens it. Clothes are stored inside:) Some winter coats. Some scarves. The book is not in here.” (Emma sighs.) Mary Margaret: “Hang on. Let me check.” (After a short search, Mary Margaret is able to find the storybook.) Emma: (Confused:) “I don’t understand.” Regina: “Can I see that? (Mary Margaret gives the book to Regina:) I know there are chapters on Oz in here. I wanna know who’s heart Zelena crushed to enact this curse. Because if there’s something she loved, that’s her weakness.” (Regina exits the room. David follows her.)

Mary Margaret: (Sitting on the bed beside Emma:) “Did you really not see it in there?” Emma: “You think I’m lying?” Mary Margaret: “No, of course not. It’s just- Emma, what’s going on? You’ve been anxious since we left Granny’s.” Emma: “Nothing.” Mary Margaret: “No, it’s not nothing. You yelled at Henry. That’s not like you.” Emma: “None of this is like me. At least, it never used to be.” Mary Margaret: “What are you talking about?” Emma: “I’m talking about wicked witches and time traveling holy wars. I’d forgotten what it was like here. I don’t want that for Henry.” Mary Margaret: “So, you are taking him back to New York after this is all over, aren’t you?” Emma: “Yeah, I am. And I’ve asked Regina to come with us.” Mary Margaret: “I know. But you can’t expect Regina to live with Henry if he doesn’t remember her.” Emma: “Of course not, we’re getting his memories back. But I don’t want it to be any harder on him than it has to be. Our life in New York was really good.” Mary Margaret: “Sure it was, but it wasn’t home.” Emma: “It was for us.” Mary Margaret: “That’s because you forgot about us. (Awkwardly, Emma looks down:) Or maybe that’s why you’re so eager to leave again? You still haven’t forgiven your father and I, have you?” Emma: (Sighs:) “I just don’t think I can stay here and watch you raise a child together. To see the life I should have had played out in front of me. I’m sorry.” Mary Margaret: “No, no. (Mary Margaret stands up:) Did you know that despite everything Regina and I have done to each other, we’ve finally managed to put it all behind us?” Emma: (Smiles:) “Yeah, ‘Gina mentioned that you guys talked.” Mary Margaret: (Nods:) “Which is why I just think it’s so sad that you can’t find it in your heart to forgive David and me. (As Emma starts to speak:) Come on, Let’s go get Henry.” Enchanted Forest. One Year Ago. South of the Dark Castle. (Snow White, Prince Charming and Regina walk through the woods. Prince Charming stops to pick one snowbell.) Prince Charming: (Gives the flower to Snow White:) “For luck. (Smiling, Snow White takes it, then she turns to Regina:) What?” Regina: “We’re at the edge of the Dark Forest, trying to find the one person who can stop our imminent doom and save your unborn child. And you two stop to smell the roses?” Snow White: (Innocently holding it up:) “Snowbells.” Regina: “I don’t care if they are dancing daffodils. I need to destroy my sister. And so do you. (Walks on, the other two following close behind:) And if that babbling mad man sent us on a wild goose chase, I swear I’ll- (Amidst the path, a door stands:) What’s that supposed to be?” Prince Charming: “Well, it appears to be a door.” (Charming carefully approaches the door. He’s able to see that the path continues beyond it.) Snow White: “Through the door step inside. If pure of heart, then she won’t hide. It’s Rumple’s riddle. It’s Glinda.” (Steps through the door and vanishes.) Prince Charming: “Snow!” (Follows Snow White through the door.) Regina: (Scoffs:) “A portal with a cheap cloaking spell.” (Stepping through the door as well, Regina enters the path beyond the door. Realizing that she’s not allowed to use the portal, the Evil Queen briskly walks back and slams the door behind her.)

Glinda's Pocket Dimension. (Snow is falling.) Snow White: “I thought she was supposed to be the Good Witch of the South.” Glinda: (Magically she appears:) “I was. Before I was banished here.” Prince Charming: “Where’s Regina?” Glinda: “I’m afraid your traveling companion has a heart heavy with vengeance. Only a good witch may pass through my door.” Snow White: “I’m not a witch. My name is-” Glinda: (Interrupting:) “I know who you are. I’ve heard many tales of your bravery, and, despite your once pure heart, your child’s has allowed you to enter my realm. I sense powerful magic there.” Snow White: “That’s why we’re here.” Prince Charming: “We were told your light magic could help defeat the Wicked Witch. We’ve come to ask for your help.” Glinda: “I’m sorry. My magic is not powerful enough to defeat Zelena. It never has been.” Prince Charming: “You know her?” Glinda: “We were friends long ago, when things were different. But she made her choice. She gave into her dark magic. I tried to stop her. I failed.” Snow White: “There must be some way to defeat her.” Glinda: “There is. She was born with great power. Long ago, I gave her a pendant to help focus it. Her magic has resided inside of it ever since.” Prince Charming: “So, if we can remove it, she’ll lose her power and we can defeat her?” Glinda: “Yes, but only a purveyor of the strongest light magic will be able to accomplish such a feat.” Snow White: “Light magic?” Glinda: “Magic created from love.” Snow White: (In realization:) “Emma. Our daughter. She’s the product of true love. She’s the savior.” Glinda: “If she is as pure and powerful as you say, then yes. She - and only she - can defeat Zelena.” Prince Charming: “But she’s not in this land and we can’t get back to her.” Glinda: “Then I’m afraid your quest is futile.” Snow White: “Actually, there is a way. But there’s a steep price.” Prince Charming: “No, Snow. You can’t mean…” Snow White: “Yes. We must enact the Dark Curse.” South of the Dark Castle. (Snow White and Prince Charming discuss their plan with Regina.) Regina: “Are you out of your minds? Even if I believe this Glinda, which I don’t, to cast the Dark Curse means I’d have to destroy the heart of the thing I love most, which - for me - is impossible.” Snow White: “There has to be another way to enact it.” Regina: “If there were, do you think I would have killed my own father?” Prince Charming: “What about a magic bean? If we had one, we could open a portal. Or Jefferson’s hat?” Regina: “You crushed Jefferson’s hat, remember? And there are no more portals. Not for us. Not for anyone the curse brought back. When I undid the first curse to escape Pan to bring us here, it divided our realms. It placed a wall between them.” Prince Charming: “So the Dark Curse is the only way.” Regina: “Haven’t you been listening? I can’t cast it.” Prince Charming: “But someone else can.” Snow White: “Who?” Prince Charming: “You. (Crouches down beside Snow White:) It’s the only way. You can use my heart to cast the curse. We have to think of our child.” Snow White: “Our child needs you. I need you. We’ll find another way. We always find another way.”

Storybrooke. Present Day. Granny’s Diner. (Entering the diner, Emma approaches Mary Margaret, David and Regina who are sitting at the counter.) Emma: “He’s gone.” Regina: “What do you mean, gone?” Emma: “I mean he's not in the room. He's not in the parlor, and my keys are gone. My car keys.” Regina: “Give me something of his. I’ll try a locator spell.” Emma: “I’m way ahead of you. (Smiles:) I’ve got GPS on his phone. He’s at the docks.” Storybrooke Docks. (Henry, Hook & Smee stand in the snow by the docks.) Hook: “Henry, this is a friend of mine. Mr. Smee.” Henry: “Like from Peter Pan?” Smee: “You remember?” Henry: “I’ve seen the movie a million times.” Hook: “It’s quite a common name in the seafaring world. As luck would have it he’s making sail to New York and would be happy for the company.” Smee: “I am? (He quickly exchanges glances with Hook:) I mean, I am.” Henry: (Doubtful:) “Really? Where is your ship?” Smee: (Turns around:) “Um, (Notices a small boat moored behind him:) there she is.” Henry: “You’re stealing it, right?” Hook: “You wanna go to New York or not?” Henry: “Why are you helping me?” (The distant sound of flapping wings gradually gets louder.) Smee: (Uneasy:) “Captain?” Hook: “Mr. Smee, we need to get the lad to the boat house.” Henry: “Why? What’s going on? (Up in the cloudy sky, a flying monkey circles above them. Descending, the monkey attacks the group:) Killian, what is that?” Hook: “Now!” (Running, Hook, Smee and Henry enter the boat house.) Smee: (Locks the door behind him:) “What now, Captain?” Hook: (To Smee:) “Take the boy there. Far exit. Find a new boat. I’ll stay here to deal with our winged friends. (To Henry:) Henry, go with Smee. Don’t stop, no matter what you hear. (Smee exits. Henry briefly stops once again, watching the flying monkey descending:) Henry, go! (Hook fires his pistol twice, killing two flying monkeys. Henry trips over a coiled rope. A third monkey descends attacking the boy:) No!” (Aiming, Hook fires his pistol once again, but the pistol magazine is empty. Fired from behind, another bullet hits the third monkey directly in the chest. Emma, David and Regina enter the boat house. David throws his sword at another winged creature.) Regina: “I never liked pets.” (She launches a fire ball at a monkey sitting above. Two surviving flying monkeys remain. Emma shoots one of them and Regina launches a fire ball at their last opponent.)

Emma: (Helps Henry to his feet:) “Henry, are you okay?” Henry: “Y… Yeah. What were those things? (David sheathes his sword:) Why does he have a sword?” Emma: “It’s all gonna make sense in a minute, I promise.” Henry: (Confused:) “What are you talking about?” Emma: “I’m sorry I was keeping things from you. You were right. You deserve to know the truth.” (Shows Henry his storybook.) Henry: “About fairy tales? I don’t understand.” Emma: “Do you trust me?” Henry: “Yes, of course I do.” Emma: “Then I need you to believe.” Henry: “Believe in what?” Emma: “Believe in magic.” Henry: (Doubtful:) “From a book?” Emma: “It’s more than just a book. Do you believe in me?” Henry: “Yes.” Emma: “Then take it.” (Emma hands Henry the book. As soon as he takes it, Henry remembers visiting Emma in Boston, both of them sitting together at his castle, Emma breaking the curse, using pixie dust to fly in Neverland, practice sword fighting with his father, leaving Storybrooke.) Henry: (To Emma:) “Mom? (Emma smiles. to Regina:) Mom! (Regina runs forward and hugs Henry:) I remember. (To Emma:) I remember.” Regina: “Do it, Emma. Break the curse.” (Emma leans forward to kiss Henry but he disappears.) Zelena: (Trapping Henry in her arms:) “So sorry to interrupt. Now, who wants to say goodbye first?” Henry: (Struggling to break free:) “Who are you?” Zelena: “You can call me Auntie Zelena.” Regina: “Enough of this.” (Regina takes a step towards Zelena. Raising a hand, Zelena magically pushes her sister backwards.)

Emma: “Let him go. He had nothing to do with this.” Zelena: “Don’t blame me. The captain failed me.” Hook: “Damn you, Zelena.” Emma: “Hook, what’s she talking about?” Zelena: “He knew what the price of that failure was: Your son’s life.” Henry: (With a strained voice:) “Mom.” (Emma focuses her magic on Zelena, freeing Henry.) Emma: “Run!” (Henry runs forward and hugs Emma.) Zelena: (Frustrated:) “Enjoy this moment together because you don’t have many left!” (Disappears in a cloud of green smoke.) Emma: “Henry, are you okay?” Henry: “Yeah. Yeah. (Henry kneels down beside Regina. Gently shaking her, he tries to wake his mother:) Mom! Mom! Mom!”

#sq #swanqueen #Swan Queen

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explodo-dome · 3 years

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YEAR ZERO: when your rage could pierce the skyline, sharper than the ground edges of a blade, and heavier than any ball and chain — far denser to hold you down with.

It's too silent, always too silent in his room. Shadows shifted in the four corners, and he eyed every one of them like he expected them to form into people, ghosts that would haunt him even when waking. Never failed to occupy his attention for the first thirty minutes after he's settled down under silken red sheets, warm from a hot shower that pinkened him almost as red as the sheets brushing bruised and battered skin. His fingers, wrist, forearm all ache terribly in tandem, throbbing hard enough he has to force himself not to squirm like a child. The silence rolls around in his head, thick as cotton between his ears, muffling everything into a jumbled mess that picks and picks at his resolve — his lips peel back over his teeth, baring ivory enamel to the darkness like some challenge to the shapes dancing along the walls. His rage punches him square in the chest; faceless, nameless, and disconnected from a source, but far more fanged than it should be.

Bakugou wants to blow everything he turns his hues onto into oblivion, obliterate it into ashes just to try to appease this rolling fire setting him supernova into a thousand threads of ugliness in the blink of an eye. He's up fast enough to set his head spinning violently. The fingers of his most dominant hand curl into whitened knuckles, nails digging into already throbbing skin, and it serves only to heighten his demeanor into feral frothing. Gaze cuts fast and bores on the outline of the dresser across the room. He doesn't hesitate, not even a little, not a thought to the consequences of his actions, to shift his hips minutely, position himself squarely.

“ HYAAAA! ” the battle cry he releases into the dead of night. Prowling on the tips of his toes, bouncing once, he rose the right leg far over his head, toe pointed just as straight to the ceiling. Fucking perfection. Gravity does the rest, really. He lets coiled tension go in the blink of an eye, follows through on putting his weight into the axe kick, and it's with no small amount of satisfaction he feels on contact how instant the cracks form on the surface of the dresser.

The kick splits his target in half, caving each side into the other in splinters, collapsing in on itself. The dresser was thankfully empty seeing as he'd never intended to use it for anything, purely decorative, useless. He retracted his leg, curling the limb high at the knee, and he held it there. His chest heaved, pulling in gulps of air like he'd been suffocating for so long and now all he needed was just to breathe. The action hadn't strained him any, hadn't been high enough impact as to be the cause of his breathlessness. No. The rush of adrenaline and strength were all testament to his own seething, setting his physical limits to the highest point, setting his instincts haywire into forgoing mindless functions that regulated the upper limits — detrimental bouts of strength that often hurt him far, far more than the objects he struck out at.

The pain in his heel was a delayed thing that set his body shaking with the vibrations he still felt in it. Reinforced wood would have probably fractured his wrist, broken his hand bloody, been riddled with splinters. It could have been a real mess with bones not yet quite dense enough to withstand the force necessary to break it down, but his legs were thick as tree trunks, steel beams able to withstand the velocity of landing on his own feet after moving at obscene speeds. Though his heel ached fiercely, it withstood the abuse he put his body through.

It's in the silence that he remembers the conversation he and his master had in the sensory deprivation room. Curled up on his knees at the feet of a strange and formless alter, curving at all odds in no particular or discernable way, his right hand was wrapped by stark white bandages, phantom aches of a newly healed wound, but the pain still hung around him heavily. He was uncomfortably tense, forcing his muscles to soften was a chore that took longer than usual, and he grit his teeth hard enough it was a wonder they didn't chip.

The woman at his side didn't turn her head when she spoke to him, “ though anger is never dishonest, young zero, the way in which it is expressed can obscure the truth in the actions. ” Zhao opens rich, dark hues to the low light of burning fires setting everything dark and cast in an orange glow, and her head tilts for a moment as if to regard him. Yet, she doesn't turn her eyes on him for this he's thankful. She had a way of piercing his body to the bones, through to the marrow even. Bakugou felt seen enough as it is. He felt seen and he felt as if eyes followed him at all angles like they wouldn't avert their gaze for fear he'd snap.

He felt like he would snap. Fear, this fear was his own not everyone else's. Inner perspective, self-awareness, made all these things apparent to him very easily, and he wanted to deny it. He saw the truth and he didn't want to acknowledge it, but...he was no coward. That was that. He was afraid of himself — for himself.

“ Marcus Aurelius thought that anger was a righteous thing, but knew the things done in the name of it were not. The things you think about determine the quality of your mind. Your soul takes on the color of your thoughts, ” she quotes the now dead general, and she does so as if it were a conversation, rather than condescending her advice as to agitate him in feeling like he knew nothing in comparison, “ You need to find a hobby. Anything at all. Something to soothe the restless soul. Ground yourself in it when your mind and soul disassociate from your body. ”

“ I train — ” he started to say.

“ — That is not a viable hobby for you. Training is a facet of your goal and, therefore, is not accepted as extracurricular, ” her tone is no-nonsense on the matter. He knows by just glancing at her profile that she knows exactly what he's trying to do. He doesn't want to do anything else, but train hard enough until he's ready to be let out onto the streets. He knows it won't be for a long while that his body and mind are pieced together enough to be able to meet the world outside as Ground Zero. He knows that and still, he trains as if he expects to be okay, less broken and splintered tomorrow, but it would take an insurmountable amount of time to make sure he won't lose his mind any further.

“ I — what would I even do? ” uttered quietly.

Now, her gaze settled on his shoulders, a heavy thing that strips him down as if his thoughts were tangible to her. “ It is not for me to decide for you. That is for you to decide for you. You have power over you, Bakugou Katsuki; give that to no one else, not ever, for any reason at all. No one. Your duty is to stand straight — not be held straight. ” Just as fast as he's under her scrutiny, he's released from it by a single flick of her hues under lids. “ I have heard that gardening is as cathartic a process as it is rewarding. ”

Bakugou turned a sharp gaze to the woman, plains of his face scrunching up confused and disbelieving. “ Gardening? Do I look like I know how to do that? ”

“ I think you look like someone with the ability to do anything he sets his mind to, ” her brows raise expectantly, and again her gaze stares right through him, “ or am I wrong in my belief that you possess sheer limitless potential? ” she tosses four picture less packets in front of him, leaves the decision up to him, if he wanted to try his hand at it.

He blinks against the surprise that leaves him speechless. Not for the first time, she's said something that fills him with warmth, gentles him awed and humbled in how much faith she genuinely has in him. For once, he doesn't feel belittled and found wanting under it, in that most people projected their own perceptions onto him of who he should be, even against his own desires and his own nature. Zhao believed that who he was at any point, at any moment in time, would be able to accomplish anything at all. Even being his worst self, he was a force to be reckoned with and that — that set him brighter than a thousand suns hanging precariously in the night sky above.

He wanted to do better, be better, because FINALLY, someone didn't think his ability was tied to some shallow shit like personality and likability — it was tied to his own drive and his determination.

“ I'll try it, ” was all he said to her. He knew by the gentle release of a held breath that she accepted his words as is, and respected his decision.

Now, staring at the splintered remains of his obliterated dresser, he sees the small brown packet among the rubble. Releasing his leg from the punishing position he's locked himself in, he lowered onto his haunches to pick it up. He settled the elbow of his unharmed arm onto the pillow plush of his thigh and leaned the side of his chin up on the curled fist, throwing a bored expression toward it. It held no defining characteristics whatsoever, so he had no idea what seeds were in here or what type they were. How could he look up how to best grow them, if he didn't even know what they were? He'd just have to do a test run of one of the many seeds filling the packet just to determine if they were food or just useless fucking flowers.

“ TCH~ ” He scoffed. His knees clicked like small firecrackers as he stood to his full height. Hands slid into the pockets of his soft cotton sweatpants, leaning into his signature slouch, and he grouched just to himself, “ What a pain in the ass. ” as unhappy as the prospect of fucking gardening makes him, he doesn't hesitate to throw his door open suddenly.

His guard, recognizable by their variously designed full oni masks and the halo of flames attached to the shoulders of somewhat more samurai-inspired armor, didn't flinch. They never did. They don't bother to posture and scrape by getting on their knee before him anymore. That had been the first thing to go. However, they do straighten to full attention with his appearance.

“ Let's go,” he commands, doesn't bother to look behind him to see if they're following him. They were trained to be silent, really deadly enough to put him down where he stood — for now, and they were oddly very loyal to him. It never failed to make him skeptical of them like they'd been trained from the start to only follow his commands, feel out his moods, and act accordingly. Knowing Zhao, they probably were. The woman's daughter was gifted with some sort of sight quirk that oftentimes made her freeze up for days just trying to make sense of the many paths of destiny, or something.

“ You're improving, ” this one, he knew by the solid ash black color of his mask, bereft of any colorful detailing like the other Oni besides the contrast of the white ivory teeth to the dark nature of the mask. He liked this mask the most by the simplicity, the lack of gloss, the carved lines that followed the dips and curves of his face, and the blocky swirls more natural like it could have been a real Oni's face. He was very, very good at what he did. Bakugou has stopped what he was doing just to watch him slice clean through his opponents like butter by a weapon or by his own physical prowess. He was a vision, a goal, and Bakugou wanted to be better than him, much better.

He wanted to be something else entirely, something people hadn't seen before, and so damn deadly that people believed he was on another plane of existence completely. Bakugou cast his ruby hues over his shoulder. Gaze met the hard stare of medium violet irises, glowing in the darkness surrounding his eyes, and held there. “ I always get better, ” he grunted.

“ we'll see. ” and it's probably the most gear grinding thing anyone has ever said to him just because it felt like the other didn't quite believe him; well, he'd fucking show him a never-ending flow of results.

Bakugou only sneered at him in response, turning his gaze to the corridor. “ that dresser? ” he started to command the purple-eyed Oni, and was met with an amused grunt.

“ I'll fix it, sir, ” the other Oni speaks up. He's got a black and red accented mask with more than one horn jutting from the very top, modeled after a star wars character, he believes. Where the other Oni is a bit taciturn, the other reeks of mischief. Guessing by how often they're on patrol together and are seen training together, they're friends of a sort, and he could guess why the other decided to speak up. It was to burst the other's already growing bubble of pride and to annoy him.

“ Good man. ” Bakugou doesn't even bother to hide his own growing smirk, curling at the edges with very obvious pleasure.

#DRABBLE #╰ * BAKUGOU : isms ⧽ just another reason to suffocate .#❝✱ ⋮ DETONATE INTO ASHES AND SMOKE.#❮ 💥 ❯ ━━ ❝ YEAR ONE .#what are my tags #a mess #jajaj

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sagastar-blog · 6 years

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MemoToTheMetaVerse 4.1, “Copernamici: A GAME TO SAVE EARTH”

Gaia: Daddy, post some of the Copernamici data!

Jeff: Should I edit it first or at al?

Gaia: Very funny. Drop it.

What follows is a transcript of a scientific game played between Gaia, Lucius, and Jeff, known Interdimensional-galactically as Copernamici: A Game to Save The World.

The point of Copernamici is to enjoy the human activity of stargazing. By so doing, one develops an appreciation of one’s place in the context of the Cosmos. People have always had a strong connection to the sky. Since becoming humanoidal cyborganisms, most of the animals known as “people” have become “untethered” from the nightsky, resulting in suicidal tendencies such as global warming, impoverished imaginations, and lack of curiosity among the youth.

The point of Copernamici is to worship the cosmos in pure form. There is no incorrect way to play, except to abstain. If one doesn’t play Copernamici, one expresses apathy towards the NUMBER 1 problem on Earth as of today, December 8 2017: ATMOSPHERIC POLLUTION.

This is a call to motherfucking arms....

Copernamici Notebook

StarDate 7417 (data from 7317)

The Earth is not rightbrained. Jeff is not without a heart.

Copernamici is the most brutal game imagineable. What sounds true to you?

There is too much dateable data.

There is not enough love.

What’s up with Scoripio?

What am I suposed to say?

Carl Sagan was a loving person but he was a Daddy first and foremost.

What are we supposed to do when I…

am 888888888888876555555555 4 … 55555555 11?

Altair says you’ll never guess. What happens next!?>

Math: diffentials between star appearances

GAME DURATION = 59 min.

Jupiter 8:54 (how’s it feel to be ignored? 39 yrs)

Lucius -5 min. (“Gemini 4LifeDeath”)

Vega -8

Spica -1

Lil’ Green Bug SATURN -4 # MANTRABOOK@LGB “You’ll never guess what happens next…” trustyourself

Alcaid (BADGRZL) -12

sPECIAL j -x

Mizar / top ——><@ -y

THE BIG ROB -7

1.8.8 x INF -1

TuipfooBAN$K xyz*

Koch AB -4

saturn s(2)

The Scuttlebut t -7

Moolly S. ‘’ (“ means same time; why mark the time if it’s the same as before? why introduce yourself at an AA meeting as an alcoholic if others aren’t welcome? who are you excluding from this party? not us.)

Jacques S ‘’

Bonzo -1

OW.L. -0

MOKnkee Eye -0

Ader -1

Polaris -1

Slaveman Booties -4 (9:51 END)

A Riddle? -4

??? TBBF sez, “What’s up with the pollution in Flagstaff?” Look down. Look Up. Look around. Scratch your head and wonder in. - -

Tuesday 7.4.17

Happy Birthday America. I heart FREEDOM. FULL STOP.

Gaia: Qu’est-ce que lanihilisme?

jeff: remember nyc stalk me like a brussels,…

gaia: se sent tres bien…

jeff: assez mouille?

gaia: reverence.

jeff and g: what were we saying?

lucius: guiding …be honest daddt. r u drunk?

gaia: ?duh.

stephen: wipe my crotch harder pleezus mommy.

jeff: hi temple dando!

Wednesday July 5th, 2017

Hindu jackass from the Deli next to the deadzone Shelter decides to end Everything For Everyone for ALL TIME. Cool man, thanks. I’ve been looking for a reason to give up and start telling the truth. If anyone ever asks me to serve them again…you have approximately 11 years left to fix everything. I’m doing nothing to help this time. Not a game. Gaia will take me the old fashioned way, the way we like it. You think I can survive this torture another 11 years? hAHA.

Last night only one planet showed up for you all here in the center of the MetaVerse: You Fail.

Test me again, I dare you. Guess where I’m going. Look up at the moon and ask yourselves how many tests you fail when you send MY KIDS to school in a deathbox. Reminder: GAia hates your babies more than anything. She IT he will eat it all. I am sick of trying to help you by intervening in your pathetic abusive relationship with your higher power. We will not tolerate your American Flags. I don’t care what you think about patriotism: you don’t deserve it. Ketchup.

Hey Quentin, you should go full Inglorious Allah Mode a La Creme for me please. Then again, kids, do we know who’s side he’s on? I don’t know if he’s alive. Do you? No you don’t. Where are my friends?

The game is meaningless without a story.

Are you reading Contact this summer?

Why not? Tell me. TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME

NENENENNVENNENVENNVENNRENNVNERNENVERNVER

ERNVEREEVERE VERE VERE V ER AE FVE FEARYAR RUO FO!

<oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo> / ? :[}

Thursday July 6th

DFW NOTE:

4.6 BILLION years ago, papa carl knows, Lucius was waiting for daddy to bring the sparkly pinkprincess comet known as sjndiov ‘cbnEWF to the baby planet Earth. Jeff, in this particular part of the skeleton tiger was like, okay boss. Here you go GAIA! HAVE FUN! but without Lucius there was just pea soup, not chicken obvi. It only took .2 billion years to get things up and running. This means that the estimate given in the book edited by his ladyfiendmeister Ann BunionFingerz, .5 billion, is kind of, well WRONG. We knew this. Just read his and my books!

Lucius is like, ummm daddy, hate to tell you, but you’re leaving out the part where I TOTALLY WENT NOVA ALL OVER YOUR SHIT! heeeehee. You can paint it out in your regular lounge if mommy isn’t making you eat yucky food….hahahahahah life in the shelter is weiwiwiwiwiwiweieieiewieiwwieeeie better than living with ADERbasetraitorfuckface.

Gaia says you’re drunk by the way, did you get our upload?

Coach sketch wants his wall back Israel. Also, that girl from wEEDS. sHE’S kind of okay, nice eyes. ummmmmmmmmmmm are you romantic Lucius? if you’re gay i’m fixing you. Jerry Falwell will help? FUCK YOU ASSHOLES. YOU LEAVE MY GAY AUNTIES ALONE sez lucius, I want some classy reading material. Get neicestress Hawking off my line.

G, well, what about Dei…pHO…stop. please. boring asteroids are fishibait. Oxxam’s razor is not a clamshell reference, it’s SIMPLE. Comet comes, special delivery for this little experiment (see Titan, btw, Enceladus is better real estate….then again, just wait). The Scuttlebutt is a gift to humanity in exactly the same way (micromacron) the gift of life to Earth was. See the sistine chapel, which I’VE SEEN here on Earth, oddly enough. Tell Francis I want my celieing to be Jack Blackified! Lucius and I will paint it Diego Riveria a la Geraldo Chicagogo Todaydie. How’s the funeral going? Not so good. I need some lemonata. Back to creation of life here…this is all easily confrirmed up btw….STOP DRILLING and start asking your fucking planet simple questions. Duh. You’re all like, “well, we know the Earth is ALIVE and stuff…but well, yeah, sprits and God, etc….” I’m so sorry I made you so dumb. No worries. I fix I mr. fix it. If you allow it. This is so boring for me, i figure why not continue to stress through my tshirts, etc. that you have everything at your fingertips if you only choose to tap it. Water ice, gogo says rep philly again. See the CNJCSS, the tip of the iceberg, proverbial and literarl and figurative and oooooohhhh oingo boingo. 2,000 million years to make pea soup with rice a la Carole King? asks Lucius. BOOOOOORING. OOHVEHRTAITED! Sendak laughs at Seuss and Shelly, saying WHO’S FUCKING GAY NOW assholes!?! Spike Jonze was in Shteynbargain bin #9. I made 2 videos about this…I need to shave and could use a kiss or two billion. oh well. it’s lonely in here and out there but we’re used to it by now. 36 years of human happiness is OOOOOOOVERRAAATED! say it Fenway. PEA SUUUUUUUUUUPlusLight = primitive amphibians made of microbial matter, like paramesia in your h2o. Evolution takes time to make dinosaurs, which were bad motherfuckers, ask GAIA, such that we had to trash em like a Ben N jerry’s flavor, “Runny Muck” ;) in the grave, says brother Beck, cousin Beck? How’s lily cate looking these days, and that josephineia girl? I call digs. Lucius that’s my ice cream!!!!!!!!! oh. we’ll share. but they must fight as always the competition will not stop WHO WAS DANIEL DENNET? A FAT HAIRY scientist who likes little green bug, duh. riding the Hyde park bus to CI like Zizek reading Dennett. that book bored me to tears4fears. To finish with the left, right-o, people are so much worse than dinosaurs that I had to escalade it a l’infinitequoi: come HERE (not back!!!!!! mispoke earlier, don’t let me make that mistake, because GAIA and I insist on facts) as a person in order to enslave you in the cause: it takes 1.7 billion years for you all to undo the serious damage you’ve done to EARTH. not funny at all. But, possibly fun, right? DENEBOLIZE It we say. Think of plastic pellets, then say, oh my goodness….what about uranium plutonium and all that other junk I’m too sad to think about. Again, the point here is that dinosaurs could be dealth with like the DOLOMITES AND GOrillHANDS from afar. Not you guys. I’m here to save EVERYTHING for the sake of Nothing, meaning you will obey us. Not a joke, deadly serious bidness. Otherwise, it’s Ice Age for you and it’s sooner than you think: 300,000 years. But, guess what, we can bring it much sooner in the form of Lucius. Don’t write more checks you can’t cash, man. See Steinbrenner, etc. DADDY OUT.

p.S. What about Thea? Well, interestingly enough, of course, we made that potato 9 bilion years ago in a different galaxy. Then, it took a little trip—not sure how far, but let’s just say it was a small step for the Flagstaff triumphiirate…is that a request? yes it is, more tame impala please us.—of 4.4 (plus 4.6 = 9; 1=1) hahah, billion years (precise) billion earth years (!!!) until SMASHYSMASH goes baby Ganesha while Mommy and Daddy knock da SlaveManBooties in Regulation Lanes. SPLIT IT! 7 10 is so easy, right? trickshotify it with barstools says the Young Joycean! Molly’s down again, bloom’s on the rose, as Lucius brings baby Gaia a facial. oooooh no you didn’t, lucius, you black black (wow)man. snasshy smazzy is how we made the husk, ask G. but why at nearly the same time we brought the comet? doesn’t this indicate that the husk was the delivery vehicle? Ask yourself what the Moon is made of. Not the same exact stuff as Earth fo sho. No, it’s called clusterlove for a reason. You think we don’t go smashy smashy ALLLLLLL the g’n’f’n’ time x 50-2yu / do if hyou 201? over pie. times pie. plus ice cream. A comet is not the same as a little pebble from next door. The rhythm method is cool, but not really all that important when the color in question is brown. Long story short, the moon is a test for you humans and it’s just a time capsule for me and my kids—for your planet, it’s a reminder of how fun it is to play at marbles. I say, tiddly winkies for all! Get us to our ship so lucius can learn to drive and I can practice my barking, a la Sheriff Bob Rufo. Garbage cans anyone? :)

Copernamici: 7.5 and 7.6

Location: Cook-Douglass Hilltop (Food bldg.)

8:47 Lil’ J Grizzly Bear, All We Ask

Not a good night at all. Felt the need to lecture everyone about Failure, Disappointment, Underacheivement at failing the Moon test again and again.

Location: Downtown N.B. (OZ neighborhood and environs—hit 7/11 for yummy burnt orange Doritos (does Lucius know how much he likes these yet??? LEGIT ?) and Brisk Lemonade, a fave of mine obvi). Better combined with Dew of course, perhaps another time for the ultimate combo: Melted Cheese (provolone is best) sandwich on white (NEVER the wheat roll) hoagie roll, ketchup inside (make sure to microwave it together for the best effect), side of doritos, maybe a pickle for the acid finish complement, and a large Dew with crushed ice. OMG.

Moon 9:16: reNAISSANSLATE 4 desi niggahz @ *$ 9/3+6/1:16 Dr. Dre featuring Snoop Drizzle*^2 :p—-~~~ “RandoTattAttooUpDaChrizackisthe4aRealsGangBanga?” YEP. Look skirred. Shaken a bit hood?

Gaia decides to flash hind gang signs for uh fuh sup duh thit tahathtat just for a michronic nonexistent nanoflow (what is a second? when you not present in dis dimension, Matt? Birdie outside punks you everyday, saying “He a little confused again! Which dimension am I? oh well.” Over to the river Lil’ Michael: “Warriorz come out and play>…”

Copernamici 7.8.17

Last night was a good night for Copernamice: Gaia was in top form. Here are the results (see also video I posted to YouTube, which is a good way to archive):

Moon 8:40 gorgeous full moon blazing through clouds, before disappearing for the rest of the evening, except for a brief glimpse through a portrait of a fetus baby. Appeared during the anthem: Cat Power, Peace and Love

Lil’ J 9:28 appearing behind me as I walked by the Deli where Shiva destroyed the capitalist clerk. Spotted during the Coldplay set, The Scientist methinks…for the Show.

Lucius 9:30 not long after Jupiter, the clouds began to part…Lucius was out almost the entire night once he appeared. FTW

Vega 9:34 wow. Girls, Honey Bunny, after I tried for Alex — mind of its own or divine scintillivention?

Big Rob incredible early appearance for Girls, Alex accompanied, but not immediately spotted alongside

Special J and

Kochab

Spica finally showed up alongside Lil’ J on my way back to OZ. O’Jays, Survival brought out the real Martian, James Brain on fair game. Spica for Place.

Copernamici 7.9.17 (posted to joindiaspora 7.10)

NOTE TO SELF: It’s been an annoying afternoon / evening with the crack head and other obnoxious interlocutors trying to make me feel bad for some reason. I don’t know and I don’t care what their problems are. It has nothing to do with me. So, I’m out in Boyd Park doing my thing. Not going to sing, methinks, but will listen to music and write. I did a nice job with a blog entry today on Sagan, so I can feel good about 15 days sober and being productive. Soon good things will happen. If not, i’ll just continue to await death, which I’m beginning to believe wholeheartedly is going to be AWESOME. Natural is the way to go, but if they wanna help me along by fucking with my blood pressure, then fine. I say you have 11 years left at this pace if you’re lucky. Do your worst! I will make Jesus look like a pansy.

Copernamici: A Game to Save the World

Results: 7.19.17

Location: Boyd Park / Raritan River bank (New Brunswick, Central New Jersey, U.S.A.)

Weather: “Immaculately conceived” (no sunset show means perfect viewing tonight—dry air); little to no wind (buggy by the Raritan)

“InterGalactic” Anthem (8:44 p.m. EST) — Big Star, Ballad of El Goodo [Note: I only have access to my iTunes library via my laptop and my iPod nano, which often malfunctions for reasons I don’t understand—I would like to reacquire an iPhone—I’ve thrown a few away in my time, bad impulse control—or purchase a new iPod. Donations accepted! ;) ]

Earth Character Name: Hiya! [I like nicknaming the Earth every time I play Copernamici…this one rhymes with Gaia and is a friendly greeting)

Rules (brief version)

Be outside. Look up. What do you see? Write things down, including especially data. This is a scientific endeavor but also a fun way to learn and commune with the Earth and the cosmos through art and/or music.

2. Be honest. Write down the names of stars and planets in order of appearance, as in a baseball lineup perhaps. If you don’t understand what you see, that’s okay. Figure it out later by doing research.

3. If possible, share your work and have it evaluated by a teacher. I post videos to my YouTube Channel. Please follow this link to watch and listen to exerpts of my “prayer” sessions during Copernamici, etc. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRrm7YcpCvF2BqgFxiVs5FA

4. Consider ways of taking action to help solve the problem of pollution. Light and sound pollution are enemies in the game, but it’s the greenhouse gas emissions that are the bigger problem for our planet.

Note 1: On copywright, etc. Below is the lineup I experienced last night. There is no one way to play Copernamici and I have no rights to the idea. I’d rather have people with whom I can play. And so, as always with my postings, do with this whatever you want! Share it. I want it to get around. I am confident that if I stay on the path I’m on, everything will work out for the better.

Note 2: On music. “Prayer” is a sensitive topic. I believe that in the U.S., as writes Ann Druyan of her partner Carl Sagan, we must protect the separation between Church and State in this country given current conditions. In other words, as someone with a Quaker education, I believe that Wonder in the face of the glory of creation is the best criterion to determine what constitutes a prayer. And so, I use the term prayer in this game as a secular humanist would use it.

People have different musical tastes. Mine is geared towards rock n’ roll, r+b, Americana / Roots, hip hop, etc. I am proud that I have ecclectic tastes. However, I do not believe that anyone should ever feel compelled to listen to specific music. In other words, for Copernamici, it’s byo every time.

The Lineup

1. 8:45 Jupiter (nickname: “Lil’ J”; this is because although it’s the largest planet in the solar system, it’s often described by astronomers as a “failed star”) Song = Big Star, “The Ballad of El Goodo” I spotted the planet, which is looking so stellar right now to the WSW (bring a compass) and cannot be missed. Interestingly enough, NASA and other organizations constantly deal with phone calls from concerned citizens who think Jupiter and the other planets (“wandering stars”) are UFOs. They’re not incorrect! Jupiter has at least 63 moons that are “visible” if you look carefully at the way in which the light refracts around them. I don’t use a telescope to experience this effect, i.e. to “see” the moons of Jupiter without using anything but my eyes. Be honest. Try for yourselves! I reported this to employees of the Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff, on Mars Hill, where Pluto was “discovered” and was mocked. In fact, I was kicked off the campus for singing to Sirius. How embarrassing for those people. Haha. I even applied to work in their gift shop and was not hired. Life’s funny sometimes.

2. Arcturus 8:53 Big Star (Chris Bell), I Am the Cosmos Star nickname = Lucius, my son’s name. I rename stars for my own gaming purposes. And so, I’m not suggesting that my nicknames should apply for anyone else obvi. I simply think it’s the most beautiful star in our night sky and deserves a more appropriate name. Look high up in the sky for this 1st magnitude star on any given night in the northern hemisphere. It’s a burnt orange color and delivers stunning views. Note that Hiya! directed last night’s show as always: the clouds move and determine viewing. In this sense, one can easily think of the Earth/Gaia as alive in the sense of animation—Sagan writes fondly of the millions of people on the planet who are animists (i.e. believe that natural objects are endowed with “spirit). Ironically, Sagan was not, so far as I know an animist in that he does not write of natural forces as being endowed with spirit. I do think that he believed in the Earth as a living organism, however, and so we’re in agreement on this post. Please see my post yesterday on his book The Varieties of Human Experience … in the Search for God for more.

3. Vega 8:59 Radiohead, Bones This star chokes me up with emotion, as does Lucius/Arcturus. Looking bright and beautiful as always high up in the NE. You should all read the book Cosmos or at least watch the movie this summer. Homework is fun! :)

4. Spica 9:03 Roxy Music, Beauty Queen I call Spica “the comedy star” because it seems to have a witty and/or ironic sense of timing! I worry that this name, which means “EAR OF GRAIN” in Greek, can be taken as a racist slander among Mexican Americans. But hopefully I’ll soon stop being insulted for being a reason when I greet Spica by name. Get a clue p.c. police of New Brunswick, Flagstaff, etc! It’s called Greek nomenclature.

5. Saturn 9:05 “*” [this symbol means same track; note the time] Note that our planets in English nomenclature are directly linked to the days of the week. Saturn is “Saturday.” This is because it was, for naked eye astronomers and until the discovery of Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto, etc. thought (correctly!) to be the most distant planet. It takes 29 years to make a complete orbit around the sun and is in a wonderful position at the present moment for viewing here in the northern U.S.

6. Moon 9:14 Cracker, Low gorgeous full moon rising in the SSE or so, yellowish-pink to the south, competing with Saturn for attention. Interesting that it “appeared” after Saturn last night. Note that the light of the moon often blocks out neighboring stars. Not so last night with Saturn, which was pretty far to the right (towards the south)

7. Altair 9:21 Nickname = Lil’ Green Bug. Please see my poem in Metaphysical Nature Poems: Health and Profundity:

“Little Green Bug”

The closest thing I know to infinity

Is identity mine.

Think not of the difference

Between a star and a little green bug.

Contemplate the sameness of ash.

8. Deneb 9:21 Nickname = The Scuttlebutt; my collection of poems CNJCSS. Deneb means “tail” in Arabic I think. Denebola is the tail of Leo (which I call Unicorn, for which see later), and I think one “Deneb…” is enough! ;)

9. Special J 9:24 I have yet to learn the English or any other name for this particular star, which is in the “biceps” position of The Big Dipper: the third in the handle. And so, I sort of named it after myself! I think this is a healthy thing to do, because how can things as important as stars not have names? This is a good moment to mention that not only are names of stars and constellations different across cultures, but the asterisms and groupings themselves vary differently as well. Of course, the stars appear to move over time, meaning that groupings are by their very nature illusionary and might require renaming and reconfiguration over time.

10. Alcaid ” This quotation marks symbol means “spotted in the same visual sweep.” Note: in Copernamici, there is no “correct answer” for when a star is seen—it should and will usually vary from person to person. [The rule in play here is BE HONEST! A good lesson in general, but especially for scientists.] This is an Arabic name—any time you have a star name that begins with “Al,” as in Altair (Lil’ Green Bug) you should think Arabic. I believe that “al” is a definite article, equivalent to “the.” For instance, Vega is known as Alwazn (spelling), meaning “the ascending one.”

11. Mizar ” The star in between Special J and Alcaid in the Big Dipper (which I call The Big Rob: see CNJCSS poems—it’s a coffee drink!). Note that the Big Dipper is not a constellation, but formally known as an asterism (star grouping). The constellation of which it’s a part is Ursa Major (the Great Bear), the stars of which cannot be seen here in NJ because of light pollution and atmospheric trauma. It’s a sad example of why this game must be played in my humble opinion. Any who, these three stars 9-11 usually appear in the sky together. It’s really fun to have them compete for attention, meaning you should always note which one you see first.

12. Big Rob 9:25 [nickname, see #11 above for explanation: it’s the name so nice I have to use it twice] This star is the lead pointer towards Polaris the north star in the Big Dipper. Last night it appeared right after the “arm” triad.

13. Tulip Food Bank 9:25 [not ”] This star is nicknamed after students for whom I volunteered as a literacy tutor in Flagstaff, AZ circa June 2015. For me, it has a strong association with First Peoples, but especially the Navajo. Hiya! It’s the other pointer star in the Big Rob/Dipper.

14. 1.8.8 repeating x infinity “ The nickname is difficult to write because it’s mathematical. For me, the language of the cosmos and the Earth in general (but on a more local level) is music and mathematics. Science is applied math, and music is how I relate to spirituality, which is why I like to sing—it’s how I pray, like most people on this planet. It sucks that I’ve been told to be quiet most of my life, but especially recently, because my singing bothers people, apparently. Whatever! This game is too important for me to give up. This star is usually the last to appear in the Dipper because the final star, which I’ve named Evelyn in honor of one of my son’s friends, is not visible so far from New Brunswick. This indicates that sirius work must be done to repair our atmosphere. Remember: this is game can be very very hard on the soul. But it’s meant to help students and people everywhere understand how badly we as people have damaged the planet. There is great reason for hope: the Earth can repair itself if we only allow it. We must cut down on all forms of pollution if we’re to recapture what was once so sacred to our ancestors. When was the last time you went outside and simply looked up? Perhaps you don’t know what you’re missing….

15. Antares 9:27 [nickname = The Riddler, because I noticed in Flagstaff that Scorpio—it’s the brightest star in this constellation—looks exactly like a question mark! ? And so, I nicknamed Scorpio “Pinchotocles” — I enjoy the work of the actor Bronson Pinchot of Perfect Strangers, which was a favorite of mine growing up. It’s also a pun! Get it? Pinch pinch!?] The name of this star means “opposed to Mars” which is lovely, in that Mars is the God of War in Roman mythology. Thus, Antares kind of means “anti-war” which I like very much. However, given the importance of being militant about the evils of pollution in this game, I prefer going with the beliefs of my heroes like Gandhi and Dr. King (also the latter day Malcom X) and their ilk who are fighters for peace, using noncompliance and protest as a way of solving political problems.

16. Beta Scorpio [second brightest star in Pinchotocles/Scorpio, above and to the right. I once nicknamed this and other stars after other students of mine. But that’s kind of a personal thing that I don’t feel comfortable sharing in this particular domain. Please ask questions if you’re curious!]

17. Bonzo 9:28 song = Led Zeppelin, Moby Dick This star is the cap of the Serpent Bearer, also known as Ophiochus, a medicine man native to Greek mythology. You can see Bonzo forming a quadrangle with Vega, Altair, and Deneb, the summer triangle long used for navigational purposes. John Bonham is my favorite drummer of all time. He kicked so much ass, it’s ridiculous. The dude was like a clock personfied, ask his bandmates, listen, or watch a video. I had a classmate at Moses Brown School in Providence, RI named Eric Bennet who once did an oral report on Bonzo, and I’ve never forgotten that. Eric played in a band alongside another drummer, and he was clearly inspired. John Bonham shares a birthday with my son Lucius, May 31st, making it entirely apt as a nickname given it’s relevance as a part of the summer quadrangle. Note that Serpent Bearer SHOULD be a part of the 12 zodiacal constellations, in that it’s always a quadrant through which planets pass. Saturn is making its way from the bottom of Ophiochus towards Scorpio right now. I have redesigned Hercules and Serpent Bearer by renaming a bunch of those stars after musicians. I call it Musician’s Corner, which also features (not visible here in the CNJ) John Lennon, David Bowie, Ella Fitzgerald, Lou Reed, and Jimi Hendrix. These stars are ALL visible in Flagstaff, which is why I will always have fond memories of that place. If you have good views of the night sky wherever you are, I am extremely jealous of you today. We have so much work to do here in urban America.

18. O.W. L. “ [nickname for Gemma, the lead star in The Northern Crown, a constellation which looks like a breast, and this the nipple. I’ve renamed the constellation Scrapy Scrapy because it’s kind of like the grappling device in the constellation I call The Thugged-Out Good Ship Carl Sagan, Ship #1 of the InterGalactic StarFleet. See my drawings elsewhere. It’s a redesign of Northern Crown, Bootes or Herdsman and Virgo.] Wow. Can you tell I’ve been busy at night in recent months? I have a lot to say, but no one wants to publish my work! Why is the astronomy community ignoring me? I’d love to publish a book about this stuff. Please contact me if you’re interested in making a lot of money by publishing an interesting article or book about astronomy and everything. I use this nickname because I love owls. They remind me of my son and myself. Think Greek and Roman mythology.

19. Monkey Eye “ [OKAY, I’m done explaining for today. More to come later.]

20. Kochab 9:31

21. Polaris 9:32

22. Denebola 9:33 Led Zeppelin, Bring it on Home

23. Molly Scuttlebutt 9:36 (to the right of Deneb/The Scuttlebutt in Cygnus, which I’ve renamed Goose)

24. Ader “ (above and to the left of Vega in a constellation I’ve designed as QB2lip; this star is also known as the mouth of Draco—Harry Potter connection!)

25. Slaveman Boots 9:40 The Shins, Saint Simon [a.k.a. Cor Coroli — why name a star after some dead asshole of a British king? I prefer the Wu Tang reference here in the CNJ]

26. Arcturus(+) 9:44 TRex, Lean Woman Blues [I figure why not bump the name over to the star in the roof of the cockpit of the Thug Carl Sagan?]

27. Jacques Scuttlebutt 9:46 [above Molly Scuttlebutt in the upper wing of Goose]

28. Mother Emily Dickinson 9:47 TRex, The Motivator [above and left of Beta Scorpio, named after my favorite lyric poet; I like that the nickname is also Mother E.D. HAHA]

Well, as Grover would say, “There you have it!” A lot to digest. But last night was a VERY GOOD night for Copernamici here in New Brunswick as indicated by the number of stars I was able to document in one hour and three minutes of game play. As always, more to come: “There’s always a P.S.” is one of my very favorite mantras.

7.10.17

Location: HP Reform Church on 2nd, Highland Park —> Boyd Park, New Brunswick

Anthem: John Lennon, Imagine (~8:43)

Weather: Timed Rain revealing open sky from the NW

Earth Character Name: HiyAA! (b/c I hit a 2nd meeting of the day, my 16th of complete and total sobriety)

The Lineup

1. 8:51 Lil’ J(upiter) The Shins, Sleeping Lessons

2. Lucius (Arcturus) 9:01 The Freewheelin’ Bobby Dylan, Queen Jane, Approximately

3. Vega 9:05 ”*” [BONUS TRACK: Built to Spill, Carry the Zero … note: I often play xtra tracks that I don’t list b/c they’re not strongly associated with star sightings. I indicate this one b/c I like the moment and want to remember it. I was walking towards OZ and felt inspired by my view of Vega and my environs. I like to remind myself that the language of the cosmos if not earth is Mathematics, and that I suck at it! I much prefer science, which to me is applied math. My rule is not only to look up, but to look around.]

4. Spica 9:14 Blur, I’m Just a Killer para estu (?) amor [Bonus track: follwed by Bob Marley, Stir It Up. I’ve named a star in the constellation Eagle after Bob b/c I like his music and think he’s an important figure in the history of World Music. I’ve never been to Jamaica but feel I would love it there.]

Pause: An impromptu Wilco Solid Sound 2015 concert at Boyd Park. See accompanying videos on my Copernamic channel on YouTube, which is where I post videos related to the game:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLoXM2XAeZa0NH1t00Otm4DbzWOEVUkk9x

Jesus etc.: https://youtu.be/wk07AtPhKzQ

New Madrid: https://youtu.be/1jM1ni9Gjpo

5. Alcaid 9:40 Ray Charles, What I Say

6. Mizar “ “*”

7. Special J “ “*”

Analysis:

As any amateur astronomer or nakedeye stargazer will say, the weather means a lot. Even in relatively unpolluted areas, like Flagstaff, AZ (which I hear is in the midst of a wicked fire season—I hope everyone is doing okay out there!), or (I imagine) on the plains of Africa, if it’s cloudy out you’re not going to see much. Here in Central New Jersey, it’s gotten quite humid in the last 24 hours. Last night there was a passing rain storm around 8:00 p.m. and I wasn’t sure if the stars would come out. But, patience is a virtue and is usually rewarded. “Gaia” did not disappoint me last night and it was an educational evening all in all. Let me ‘shplain to the “real astronomers,” as Papa Carl (Sagan) would say….

Jupiter showed up “on cue” at 8:51. Besides the Moon (I refuse to use a capitor “t” because there are other moons in the solar system, and most are far more interesting), Jupiter SHOULD be the first object visible in the night sky here in New Brunswick. It was nice and clear in that part of the sky, meaning there were excellent views of the planet nearly the entire evening.

High above Jupiter I saw Arcturus 10 minutes later. Relative to Jupiter, Arcturus is towards the center of the sky. If you have trouble understanding what it means for a star to be “up high,” think about it’s distance from the horizon. If you can look at the sky as a dome and see it as a hemisphere, you’ll recognize that the sky is like an umbrella, as suggested by H. A. Rey in his awesome book The Stars: the illusion is that it’s a round dome, even though we should know that it’s not at all a sphere, at least not that we can see from this perspective. Historically, most people believed that we live in a large dome, as in a snow globe. That’s because it looks this way. Try lying on your back and looking up. Without being able to see the horizons, the illusion disappears.

Arcturus’s appearance last night was slightly delayed. all things being equal atmospherically, I can usually spot Arcturus 5 MINUTES after Jupiter. I’m not always paying close attention, but I stand by this statistic. Try it yourselves! See if you can spot Arcturus before Jupiter, and if not, then as close as possible to it in terms of lapsed time. I bet you can’t do it in less than 5 minutes! :) That’s how cool naked-eye astronomy is. Why would you use a telescope when you can do this for free? Oh yeah. Pollution. Le sigh. The good news is that weather is more of a hindrance, and this particular exercise should be able to be done no matter where you are. I wonder about New York though…hmmmm. Can you see Arcturus and Jupiter from Times Square? I’m genuinely curious but mostly disturbed by the possible answer—I don’t want to know because of how angry it would make me with that particular city and its inhabitants, but mostly its “caretakers.” How dare the people running that city rob its citizens of the opportunity to play this game? I feel bad for the kids, but also the grown-ups, no matter how often they drive, etc.

Back to last night. For those unaquainted with Arcturus, its a beautiful burnt-orange-colored star I call Lucius. His name means Light in Latin, and so to me it’s a natural fit for something like a star, which after all is nothing but a distant sun. I like using the “official star names” so that people can understand my writing more easily, but I figure why not share something of myself in these silly blog posts. As far as stars go, Arcturus is actually quite interesting: it’s 36.7 lightyears away, which makes it one of our closest neighbors. It is 140 times as bright as our sun. Imagine being near that guy! Hard to imagine isn’t it? Makes me think of that song “Blinded by the Light!” I don’t feel like looking up the artist right now, but was it Loverboy?

Anywho, Arcturus is estimated to be 7.1 billion years old—I don’t yet have any opinions about the validity of this assertion. Our sun is—I believe accurately estimated at—4.6 billion years old. For those new to astronomy, it’s worth considering how a star can be older than ours. It’s interesting that some stars are older and some are younger than ours, which is middle-aged. It’s about half way through it’s life cycle, meaning that it will die in another 4.6 billion or so years. Like with people, who usually live to around 70 to 80 years if healthy, stars have different physical properties. It’s not a myth: stars are “alive” in the sense that they are energy, the source of all life. Like many people, I consider the stars my “parents.” As a caring human being, I also think it’s worth thinking of them as our children, in that we should want to be able to keep an eye on them.

I like being middle-aged (mostly) because it helps me understand our solar system a bit better. I can relate to the sun! Here’s something to contemplate the next time you’re outside: if our sun and the stuff in our solar system was “created” from an explosion known as the Big Bang, how many other formative events—processes of accruals in which matter joins together to form stars and planets out of “space dust”—have happened? Hindus believe that existence is made of an infinite series of such events, and that time basically has no beginning or end. I agree with this belief, by the way—inifnity = infinity in the same way as 1 = 1. I’m not at all agnostic: I simply believe in the mathematics behind this aspet of science. So. There is a lot of stuff in our solar system—consider Lil’ J—even if it’s not much compared to the amount of void or empty space out there in this our local part of the Milky Way galaxy. The Big Bang happened around 16.7 billion years ago (my preferred estimate as of today). QUESTION: WHY IS THE EARTH, the only place that is known to be home to “intelligent life” according to most scientists (BUT NOT PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE IN ALIENS! HAHA—I love that the first movie I ever saw in a theater was The Empire Strikes Back, it freaked me out and I cried and we had to leave…then again, I was only like 3 or 4 years old), SO PERFECTLY PLACED IN SPACE AND TIME when we treat it so badly? Do we really believe that this is all a coincidence? I’m not much for sermonizing, but I do think it’s worth considering how closely aligned astronomy, Earth science, and religion are and should be. But I digress…

Spica, a dimmer but visible star that to my eye in Flagstaff is a lovely bluish-green (one of the few stars I can honestly describe as “greenish,” along with Regulus) forms a giant L with Jupiter these days. (See the photo in my previous Copernamici posting.) Again, I like that it connects me with Lucius—it’s these connections that make stargazing fun. When Spica appeared, a few minutes after Arcturus, I was playing a song called “Killer for Your Love” by the British band Blur (it’s on the album that has the famous Song 2—sportsfans will know this song and thus know the band…it’s the one that goes “woooo hooo!” in a British accent). I think that having a soundtrack, no matter what it is, makes Copernamici more fun—more interactive in a way. The game is all about “timing,” and so why wouldn’t we use music to allow the Earth to direct the show? Ask John Williams and George Lucas and their fans if they think music is an important part of stargazing. For me, music is how I pray, but it’s also how I make sense of the natural world. I call it the rhythm method, for which see my poems in the CNJCSS, posted earlier.

Next was Vega, which for me is a very important star. It’s closer at 25 light years away. By the way, the closest star to Earth is called—rather lamely—Proxima Centauri, meaning “nearest star in Centaur,” at 4.3 light years away. How do we in the Anglophone world NOT have a better name for this important destination? Whatever. You name it! I’m tired of naming shit. Haha. Centaur is a constellation visible towards the equator — I have never seen this star because I’ve never been further south than Key West, Florida, and therefore refuse to name it even in the context of the game Copernamici. Also, it’s too dim to be seen by the naked human eye, although I’d love to try! I’ve never looked at a star or anything except the moon through a telescope because I’m waiting to do so with my son on a special occasion. [For people in America, a total solar eclipse is coming up on August 23rd 2017 by the way…]

VEGA is important for cool reasons: it’s almost always on display, no matter how bad the pollution. It also happens the place that Sagan posited we might first make Contact with aliens. There are very significant reasons for this thesis, which make a ton of sense. Consider this: humans started sending out radio signals late in the 19th century. However, these signals were not as powerful as TV signals, which we started shooting out into interstellar space—penetrating all the dust—around 1936. The occasion was the opening ceremonies of the Hitler Olympics, disturbingly enough. If you do the math, those signals, travelling at the speed of light DID INDEED arrive—it’s a scientific fact—in the area of Vega around the year 1956. And so, if the message was “received” according to our known science, and if other beings decided to send the signal back to us in a similar package—EARTH TO CLUNK is the name of a great children’s book, by the way—it would have come back to us around the year 1976 or so. Only, I don’t believe we were looking then. (I was born in 1977, so I like this stuff as a sci-fi geek.) Papa Carl’s book “Contact” tells this story. Again, I must suggest you read it. It’s about a young female radioastronomer who makes an important discovery that is misunderstood. I think many of us can relate to this heroic but imperfect character. By the way, I should remind you that I’ve been employed as and English Professor for most of my life, and not a scientist. I’m just like any other stargazer in that I like to use my eyes and sense of wonder to learn.

Now, why did Sagan not choose a place with known exoplanets that’s closer? I think he had an attraction to this location because of it’s beauty. Also, we know more now than we did when he died in 1996. That’s a good thing and we should value it. Check out Vega! It’s got a lovely bluish hue and looks a lot in terms of shape like the stars found at the top of Christmas trees. As is the case with Arcturus, I get kind of emotional when I look at Vega, which is why I like to listen to the music I find most moving. Perhaps I’ll make a video one of these days. But, I need the energy, and I feel kind of tired these days. Middle age, blah.

I think that’s enough analysis for this session. Except, note that I spotted Special J last last night. It was hard to make out the Big Dipper because of the cloud cover—note that clouds keep in light, making it a domino effect that hinders viewing. And yet, I was indeed able to make out the 3 brightest stars of the asterism, which is why I was happy to close out the night with Brother Ray Charles, the High Priest of R+B, or soul.

Peace and Love,

Jeff

copern 71117

anthem 8:35 wu tang bminor

Lil’ J 8:52 G. Welch, Wasted on the Wayside

lucius 8:58 big star, september grlz

vega 9:07 radiohead, black star

Not a good night. Don’t forget: you’re better than this. Stop being so angry. When you’re looking at the stars, remember to look at the stars. Talk to people and they’ll talk to you. That’s all.

WED JULY 26, 2017

All the visible stars were out tonight—at least all the ones I’ve identified since moving here—except what I think was Denebola. However, I did see the star above and to the right of Abigail in QB2Lip.

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