#Strange in a turban

[fanartka]

I have a whole story on 30 sheets of paper about IronStrange in the eastern medieval world, but they are only in the form of very rough sketches so as not to forget the main points of this story. I really need the Eye of Agamotto or the TARDIS to draw them all.

I'm going to finish this drawing in watercolor and I'm really afraid to ruin it, because, you know, if you leave the hobby for years, then your skills are lost.

#IronStrange #Fanartka art #Doctor Strange Art #benedict cumberbatch #stephen strange #doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #marvel #mcu #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #Art #pencildraw #Lineart #pencil draw #pencil sketch #Sketch #Eastern Strange #Strange in a turban #my art

[sparklingself]

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐒"

if there is one thing you should read from neville, it’s the story of how he got into the law. he wasn’t perfect right from the start, either. he struggled at first, too. but he persisted and he fulfilled his desires.

Let me tell you why I am doing what I am doing today. It was back in 1933 in the city of New York, and my old friend Abdullah, with whom I studied Hebrew for five years, was really the beginning of the eating of all my superstitions. When I went to him I was filled with superstitions. I could not eat meat, I could not eat fish, I could not eat chicken, I could not eat any of these things that were living in the world. I did not drink, I did not smoke, and I was making a tremendous effort to live a celibate life.

Abdullah said to me, "I am not going to tell you 'you are crazy' Neville, but you are you know. All these things are stupid." But I could not believe they were stupid.

In November, 1933, I bade goodbye to my parents in the city of New York as they sailed for Barbados. I had been in this country 12 years with no desire to see Barbados. I was not successful and I was ashamed to go home to successful members of my family. After 12 years in America I was a failure in my own eyes. I was in the theatre and made money one year and spent it the next month. I was not what I would call by their standards nor by mine a successful person. (Neville)

before the law, neville had a lot of limiting beliefs and he felt unsuccessful. he had the self-concepts of being a failure. a lot of us most likely felt a similar way. we’ve all started somewhere, we’ve most likely believed that life happened to us not because of us. even if you’re in rock-bottom, you can still rise from there, as did neville. neville mastered the law and so can you, regardless of where you are in life.

Mind you when I said goodbye to my parents in November I had no desire to go to Barbados. The ship pulled out, and as I came up the street, something possessed me with a desire to go to Barbados.

It was the year 1933, I was unemployed and had no place to go except a little room on 75th Street. I went straight to my old friend Abdullah and said to him "Ab, the strangest feeling is possessing me. For the first time in 12 years I want to go to Barbados."

"If you want to go Neville, you have gone." he replied. That was very strange language to me. I am in New York City on 72nd Street and he tells me I have gone to Barbados. I said to him, "What do you mean, I have gone, Abdullah?"

He said, "Do you really want to go? "

I answered "yes."

He then said to me, "As you walk through this door now you are not walking on 72nd Street, you are walking on palm lined streets, coconut lined streets; this is Barbados. Do not ask me how you are going to go. You are in Barbados. You do not say 'how' when you 'are there'. You are there. Now you walk as though you were there."

I went out of his place in a daze. I am in Barbados. I have no money, I have no job, I am not even well clothed, and yet I am in Barbados.

He was not the kind of a person with whom you would argue, not Abdullah. Two weeks later I was no nearer my goal than on the day I first told him I wanted to go to Barbados. I said to him, "Ab, I trust you implicitly but here is one time I cannot see how it is going to work. I have not one penny towards my journey, I began to explain. (Neville)

neville didn’t have much faith in this at first. he couldn’t fathom how it’s going to work if he’s so poor. how is a silly question, because there are endless possibilities how something can come about. the “how” is what holds so many back - doubting its fulfillment because it seems unlikely. “unlikely” things happen all the time. it’s unlikely for you to see a familiar face on the street of a town that has thousands of residents - but it still happens.

You know what he did. He was as black as the ace of spades, my old friend Abdullah, with his turbaned head. As I sat in his living room he rose from his chair and went towards his study and slammed the door, which was not an invitation to follow him. As he went through the door he said to me, "I have said all that I have to say."

On the 3rd of December I stood before Abdullah and told him again I was no nearer my trip. He repeated his statement, "You are in Barbados."

The very last ship sailing for Barbados that would take me there for the reason I wanted to go, which was to be there for Christmas, sailed at noon on December 6th, the old Nerissa.

On the morning of December 4th, having no job, having no place to go, I slept late. When I got up there was an air mail letter from Barbados under my door. As I opened the letter a little piece of paper flickered to the floor. I picked it up and it was a draft for $50.00.

The letter was from my brother Victor and it read, "I am not asking you to come, Neville, this is a command. We have never had a Christmas when all the members of our family were present at the same time. This Christmas it could be done if you would come. "

My oldest brother Cecil left home before the youngest was born and then we started to move away from home at different times so never in the history of our family were we ever all together at the same time.

The letter continued, "You are not working, I know there is no reason why you cannot come, so you must be here before Christmas. The enclosed $50.00 is to buy a few shirts or a pair of shoes you may need for the trip. You will not need tips; use the bar if you are drinking. I will meet the ship and pay all your tips and your incurred expenses. I have cabled Furness, Withy & Co. in New York City and told them to issue you a ticket when you appear at their office. The $50.00 is simply to buy some little essentials. You may sign as you want aboard the ship. I will meet it and take care of all obligations."

I went down to Furness, Withy & Co. with my letter and let them read it. They said, "We received the cable Mr. Goddard, but unfortunately we have not any space left on the December 6th sailing. The only thing available is 3rd Class between New York and St . Thomas. When we get to St. Thomas we have a few passengers who are getting off. You may then ride 1st Class from St. Thomas to Barbados. But between New York and St. Thomas you must go 3rd Class, although you may have the privileges of the 1st Class dining room and walk the decks of the 1st Class."

I said, "I will take it."

I went back to my friend Abdullah on the afternoon of December 4th and said, "It worked like a dream." I told him what I had done, thinking he would be happy.

Do you know what he said to me? He said, "Who told you that you are going 3rd Class? Did I see you in Barbados, the man you are, going 3rd Class? You are in Barbados and you went there 1st Class.”

I did not have one moment to see him again before I sailed on the noon of December 6th. When I reached the dock with my passport and my papers to get aboard that ship the agent said to me, "We have good news for you, Mr. Goddard. There has been a cancellation and you are going 1st Class."

Abdullah taught me the importance of remaining faithful to an idea and not compromising. I wavered, but he remained faithful to the assumption that I was in Barbados and had traveled 1st Class. (Neville)

this story teaches a lot of lessons. especially for someone who has been struggling - you can see that it's very much possible to take your life into your own hands.

ab tells him to not settle for less. do not settle for anything less but the most wonderful. do not compromise. why should you receive less if you can receive more?

this story also explains what persisting actually means. yes, you are meant to drop it aka stop imagining it over and over in hopes of it finally realising. persisting just means that you know that it is done. whenever you are confronted with something that contradicts your inner-state, then you persist. you know that the work is already done and everything will be fine. you already have everything, it is done.

#loa #loassumption #law of assumption #neville goddard #mental diet #self concept #living in the end #affirm and persist #law of attraction #manifestation #manifesting #law of abundance #law of manifestation #manifest #edward art #spirituality #void state #meditation

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

I wore the new coat you gave me every day, until it wasnt new any more. When the collar wore out, i had it replaced. When the elbows tore, i had them patched. by the end of it, the bottom of the coat had been re-hemmed so many times, rolled up upon itself again and again, that it became as short as an undershirt. My Third Brother saw it once, and teased me mercilessly for being such an unfashionable miser. I just laughed along. I couldn't explain. I didn't want to. You were always better at words than I was.

Here at our barracks, we have a custom of passing on our old clothes to the junior officers. Over the course of several years, favorite coats would slowly make its way down the ranks, and if it was fortunate enough to avoid getting lost or destroyed at the end of its distinguished service, the men would split it among themselves to make scarves, turbans, and kerchiefs. (once those small pieces were too far gone, they would be turned into cleaning rags). The old, green battle-coat that my Elder Brother gave me now decorates the brows of my fellow men. It gives me the same warm feeling of contentment to see it on them, as i had once felt wearing it.

I never parted with the new coat you gave me. I wore it until it was no longer new, and kept wearing it long after. If the men noticed, they made no comment. I kept it on under the clothes my Liege Lord and Elder Brother gave me. It started out as the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned, but strangely enough, I only grew fond of it after it became an unsightly mess of patchwork. More darn than silk. If you saw it now, you would have laughed, like you did last time. You might have tried to give me a replacement, and gone away looking so hurt and confused when i refused. You should know by now that i do not take gifts lightly.

One morning, several years after the day we last parted, the coat tore in my hands as i was putting it on. The fabric had become so thin. I folded it up, and kept it safe in my chest until evening. When the stars came out, I brought it out and laid it over the campfire, where the flames ate it up and the winds scattered the ashes far and wide.

————-

Oh boy, it is officially 1 AM and I am having many, many thoughts and feelings tonight about cao cao and guan yu. Notes under the cut.

So the story is inspired by something my mom told me once about clothes recycling in 70s China. She would get hand-me-down clothes from her big sister, once those were worn out, they would go to her little brother, after that, it would be used to patch other clothes, and once those wore out they would be used for rags. Quite a lifecycle. For much of human history, producing textiles was a expensive and time-consuming process, and it made me think about what people do with their old clothes doing the Han Dynasty. In the novel it’s mentioned several times that people would get rewarded old clothes from their superiors, so there is some precedence to this.

————

Cao cao: oh, woe is me, the most miserable man in existence! My love is totally unrequited. Yunchang cares naught for me!

Guan yu: ^

——

I use the translation “coat“ for 袍， there isn’t really a one to one English word, (although it’s often called a “heavy robe”). I’ve decided to go with “coat” to keep it more localized, and because I think “heavy robe” is clunky. Idk how to really explain it, the word robe denotes this very specific style of dress from outsiders perspective, in a way that doesn’t come naturally if you are a native speaker talking about your normal clothes. Vibes vs accuracy, FIGHT!

#san guo #my writing #guan yu/ cao cao #I was thinking to myself you know I ship them so hard but I’ve never written about them being intimate #And then I realized oh never mind this is like 10000 times gayer

[captainjacklyn]

Twisted Wonderland x Dragon!Yuu PART 3

Context : Yuu is dragged by the headmaster to who knows where while they carry on their arms, a very feisty fire cat. Upon arriving in the room full of strangely dressed people, a couple of incidents happen to take place just a couple of minutes later.

Tag List : @candlewitch-cryptic

Warning(s) : none really, fire with butts on fire, riddle is mean like he canonically was in the prologue, if I missed anything please notify me.

Prologue [Fiery Issue] - Episode 2 :

loud sounds of footsteps and incomprehensible mumbling could be heard across the hallway. A confused dragon in human form tried to reason with the presumably called 'headmaster crowley' to explain their situation, all while handling a very angry raccoon aggressively biting their hand.

"Sir Crowley, you must understand that there is a huge misunderstanding, I woke up here out of sheer coincidence and not once was I informed of attending a school for humans- I mean wizards. I myself aren't fit for such a position considering my level with magic-" He was quick to cut them off with a statement of his own, "There is no need to utter such nonsense ! The school wouldn't just pick up a student on the street to attend in this prestigious establishment ! Consider yourself lucky and flattered !" while saying the last part he smiled in satisfaction.

[lucky how exactly ?] Yuu thought to themselves while trying to keep their composure and find a way to tell them to let you go without revealing your identity. Of course you could just do so and get on with it, but not everyone reacts very well to the revelation. "MMHMHM !" the irritated fire cat muffled out it's own claims but to no avail as Yuu gripped him a little tighter and spoke under their breath. "Hush, you'll get back home in a minute, just calm down alright ?" "mmhm.." they groggily groaned back and the struggling temporarily stopped.

______________________________________________________________

Mirror Chamber - Entrance ceremony

Chatter filled the room as students began to get up from their seats to head out with their assigned group. "Is that all for the new student dorm assignments ? Listen up new students. Here in Heartslabyul I am the rules, break them and its off with your head." a red haired boy spoke firmly, another man with Lion ears followed with an introduction of his own. "..Uuugh. The stuffy ceremony is finally over. We're going back to the dorms, Savannaclaws follow me.."

"To the new students, congratulation on entering this academy. Enjoy your life here to the fullest." a confident boy with glasses welcomed the other individuals, "As the dormitory leader of Octavinelle, I will support you to the best of my abilities." then, a beautiful man brought the attention to something else, "By the way, where did the headmaster go ? he flew out right in the middle of the ceremony.." "abandoning his post.." A floating tablet commented.

"Did he get a stomach ache or something ?" another boy with a turban added his own assertion, only to be interrupted by the sound of doors slamming open and the voice of said headmaster. "Not at all !" "Ah he's here." the red haired boy uttered once more. "I cannot believe you all. We were missing one new student so I went to find them." crowley explained as he then turned his attention to Yuu, "You are the only one yet to be assigned a dormitory. I shall watch over the raccoon, step in front of the Dark Mirror."

[....I should just play along and hope that relic doesn't prove that strange man right...How could I go from one of the admirals of the Harmony faction to a human pupil..] Yuu let their mind run free as they hesitantly walked towards the Dark mirror that soon asked, "State thy name." [..In the name of Thor..I'm going to have to curse this artifact..] "Yuu/(Name)." their (e/c) eyes lighting up faintly whilst answering.

"The shape of thy soul is.." it continued, but didn't keep going as if waiting for something to happen.

"..." it's 'eyebrows' lifted, surprised. Yuu waited for an answer, the suspense making them somewhat tense up.

[..it's working..]

"..........." the Dark Mirror's expression turned to confusion.

[...how long does this last.]

"........................." it then started to presumably frown.

[...so..?]

"I do not know." [YES !] Yuu lifted their fist up to try and inaudibly express their relief with success in being able to cast a spell. "Come again ?!" Crowley exclaimed, "I sense not a spark of magic from this one..No color, no shape, all are nothing. therefore they are not suited for any dormitory." [harsh.] for all that, they didn't really need to care anymore, as long as the result was what they wanted. "It was as I told you, I do not possess any magical prowess."

"But an ebony carriage would absolutely never go meet someone who can't use magic !" he tried retorting Yuu's claims, "In 100 years there has not been a mistake in student selection. So why in the world.." he placed an thinking hand under his chin, not realizing that his grip on the fur ball loosened. "Mghmgh..Pah !" it yanked it's head away, seemingly angry about the whole ordeal as it declared : "Then I'll take their place !" The headmaster snapped out of his trance and tried scolding it, "Stay right there ! Raccoon !"

"Unlike that dumb human, I can use actual magic ! Let me in the school instead !" the raccoon defended itself, "if you need proof I'll show you right now !" it continued before positioning itself on all four and inhaling a strong breath in. As if to understand what was coming next, the red haired boy yelled out "Everyone get down !"

"Nnaah !" the talking cat puffed out his infamous fireball, "Waah ! Hottt! My butt's on fire !" the boy in the turban panicked as fire caught on his backside, "Tch ! Suck ups.." the man with lion ears groaned. The beautiful student from earlier couldn't help but comment on the lion's irritation, "Hmm ? Aren't you good at hunting ? Doesn't it look like a nice, plump snack ?" The beastman snapped back, "Why me ? Do it yourself." the boy with the turban was jumping up and down trying to get rid of the flames on his back side. "Umm, hey, could someone put out my butt fire already ?!" he screamed.

"At this rate the school will be a sea of fire ! Somebody catch that raccoon !" [can he get rid of anymore responsibilities...?] the dragon in disguise human let out an exasperated sigh "Hey." a stern voice broke the commotion, Yuu stood in front of the source of chaos.

"huh ?" it's eyes widened in confusion, "Fnagh ! You ! How did you get here so quickly ?!" it yelped in surprise, not knowing how this strange being shifted from one place to another without making a sound. "I told you to calm down earlier, did I not ? Is it that hard for you to not cause trouble ? That creature really acts like a member of the chaos faction.." they mumbled the last part under their breath as they stared down at the grey haired fur ball. Meanwhile, it was too busy being paralyzed out of fear, why was its fur standing on end ? Surely it isn't that intimidated.

The next thing that was expected to happen was a blow, but nothing came. "Stop. it." Yuu scolded as they aggressively patted his head, slowly pushing him down. "You. need. to. stop. You're quite literally burning down the school you so dearly wish to attend." They began to tap grim with their fingers in an attempt to annoy him to end his foolish acts.

Surprisingly..

It did work.

I hope you stay tuned for part 4 !

#malleus x reader #twisted wonderland #twistedwonderland #twst #twst wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu #dragon!yuu #dragon!au #twst malleus x reader #malleus x yuu #malleus x mc #malleus x y/n #prologue #twst prologue #twisted wonderland series #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst x reader #twst mc #idia shroud #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #crowley twst

[sisters-sideblog]

I’m a day late for sickfic day of Raivoli week but simply could not pass up that prompt. Read it here or on Ao3!

△△△

Link frowned, sitting up in bed. Something was off. 

No one bustled around his tiny little single room cottage. The shutters on all the windows remained closed. No lanterns lit the dark room. Only the dim glow of last night’s embers in the hearth and morning sunlight peeking around the edges of the shutters provided any light to see by. 

Ravio wasn’t up. Strange. Most mornings he beat Link to waking. 

In the darkness, someone sniffed. 

Link turned to the lump under the covers next to him. 

They’d been sharing a bed for a few weeks now, whenever Link wasn’t stuck in the depths of some dungeon. It still felt strange, but less strange than making Ravio spread a bedroll out on the hard floor while Link himself enjoyed a lumpy but soft mattress. 

Another quiet sniffle. Crying? The thought made Link’s stomach curl uncomfortably. But no, this time it was followed by a light cough and a soft, miserable little noise.

“Mister Hero?” Ravio whispered. He sounded stuffy and about as pathetic as Link had ever heard him. The times he’d talked his way into Link’s house and then his bed both included. “Are you awake?”

Ravio still insisted on covering his face, even at night. At least he took off the hood, turning his back to Link for long enough to cover both hair and ears with a wrap and an oversized, brilliantly purple sleeping mask to dwarf most of the rest of his features. The bunny hood lay in a heap on the floor; usually he woke before Link to put it on. 

Covered eyes turned towards Link in the darkness. Was it his imagination that the very tip of the nose just barely visible under the lower edge of the mask looked a little red? 

“I’m awake,” he whispered back.

“Mister Hero, I feel terribly unwell,” Ravio moaned, laying on the drama now that he knew he had an audience. Link rolled his eyes, secure in the knowledge that it would remain unseen. “I think I need a healing potion. Maybe a fairy? I definitely need a fairy. Oh, but what if there aren’t any? You’ll take care of Sheerow, won’t you? I - what are you doing?”

Between the turban and the sleeping mask, a sliver of Ravio’s forehead remained exposed to open air. The palm of Link’s hand immediately started to feel a little sweaty, but Link knew perfectly well that wasn’t because of Ravio. 

“Checking for fever,” he said as casually as he could, pulling his hand back. The skin seemed to tingle with the remembered warmth of Ravio’s skin. It was the normal amount of warmth. “You don’t have one.” 

“I can’t possibly open the shop today,” Ravio bemoaned. He coughed again. Link listened carefully, but it sounded dry, no rattling of phlegm. He sounded stuffy, yes, but he hadn’t yet coughed himself hoarse. “I can’t talk to people like this! An entire day of lost profits!”

Link wasn’t impressed. “It’s just a cold. I’m renting your entire stock. And if I want to buy something, you don’t need to open the shop for me. I live here.” He still felt the need to remind Ravio of that from time to time. 

Ravio’s hands flailed blindly. Link jerked his head back to avoid getting smacked in the nose. “I get other customers! One of them still has the sand rod!” Ravio declared with such a loudly dramatic hiss that he set himself into a true coughing fit, the first Link had heard from him that morning. Link grabbed his hand and pulled him to sit upright, patting his back until the fit passed. 

“I’ll make you some tea,” he decided. The audible dryness in his throat did sound painful, and the steam would be good for his sinuses. 

He heard the whisper of fabric across the floor as soon as he headed towards the kitchen and kept his head politely turned away while Ravio swapped his sleeping mask for the hood he could, theoretically, see out of. 

“And breakfast?” Ravio added hopefully, clogged nose adding to the overall air of pathetic neediness. 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

But once he had the kettle on, Link pulled out a pan and some eggs. Ravio nursed him back to health a time or two, after all; that was how they met. He could afford to return the favor. 

△△△

(Brought to you by the headcanon that Ravio gets terribly dramatic over the mildest of colds and is the most demanding patient he can possibly be.)

#raviolishipweek #albw #a link between worlds #link #ravio #ravioli #raviolink #linkravio #pre relationship but that's the intent #myfic

[spunsugarmusings]

Freakazoid! Starter Sentences

Sentence starters taken from the 1995 animated superhero comedy "Freakazoid!". Some entries have been edited for clarity. Change pronouns and tenses as necessary, and please enjoy!

"If this were an afterschool special, you would pay a bittersweet price for your little deceit. Like getting big oily zits! Or eating off the same plate as David Lee Roth!"

"You want to see something strange and mystical?"

"SHEESH! YOU'RE A CREEP! GO AWAY! WE WERE HAVING A GOOD TIME UNTIL YOU SHOWED UP!"

"GO HAVE SOME COFFEE, WITH CREAM, OR SOMETHING! BECAUSE I'LL TELL YOU SOMETHING: THIS IS A HAPPY PLACE!"

"The scariest thing in the world would be if all the air in the world turned to WOOD!"

"The scariest thing in the world would be if they gave Sinbad another TV show!"

"The broadcasting industry has all sorts of safeguards to prevent that sort of thing."

"I think there's a thumbtack under my fanny."

"Most people your age die. Why won't you?"

"If I wanna blitz myself into some papaya-induced hallucination that's MY business!"

"Can you make slow, overweight birds appear out of thin air?"

"This was only a test. If there had been an actual emergency, we would have gone like this: AAH! HELP! HELP US! NO! GET US OUT OF HERE! HELP ME! HELP EVERYONE! AAH!"

"Hey, so I'm picking up a few bucks. Don't tell the IRS."

"I'm not going down there. It smells like poo-gas!"

"A bowl! I found a bowl! GOOD FOR ME!"

"There's a door not ten feet away. A fine invention. You should try it."

"Don't let me fall into nothingness! I won't be happy there!"

"They called me mad! Insane! WENDELL!"

"You think I've got a clock in my head, don't you?!"

"That's what I just said! Can you hear me or is there a wee goblin in your head eating my words!?"

"This is frightening behavior in adults. I hope none of them touches me."

"When I again rule all, perhaps I'll keep you about as a jester, or a chimp, or something."

"Will you hug me? I'm needy."

"You're very popular in a number of state institutions."

"Get her something a girl would want, like banjo lessons or a new turban."

"Oh, yes, let ME get the tea! I'd hate to see you actually have to walk the three feet through this frightening and mysterious new world we call the kitchen. You might get lost or attacked by the dishwasher!"

"If not, we'll be unemployed!"

"That was shallow, cheap, and based solely on hormones. Works for me!"

"How come you have the IQ of a biscuit?"

"How would you like me to twist your body into funny balloon animal shapes?"

"Hey. Cut it out."

"I went to all the trouble to think up this brilliant plan, the least you can do is chase me around."

"Oh, is he going to get it! I'm very passive aggressive!"

#rp meme #askbox meme #inbox meme #roleplay meme #rp memes #ask box meme #ask meme #starter sentences #sentence starters #starter prompt #freakazoid #freakazoid!

[viric-dreams]

Tamaas (eventually Tamara)

Addressed as: Madam* (she/her)

Age: 23

Height: 5’4”

Occupation:

Main Skills: Shadowy, Watchful

Prominent Quirks: Melancholy

Closest to: The Urchins

*it's a form of address that feels strange compared to its Varchaasi equivalent, but she no longer has any claim to that title.

Backstory below the cut:

She never questioned her life, much like she never questioned her love for Mihir and her native Varchas. One rarely has to when all is well and life is easy.

She doesn’t understand why her brother did not share this contentedness. Fraternal twins, they were ever-close, sharing everything, but his interest in the Jewel-Turbaned Youth and his fanciful club was something that she simply could not get her mind around. The rest of the family paid it no mind—they’re harmless anyway. Let him have his fun.

She doesn’t know what it was that stopped her from retiring to bed that one fateful evening, a nagging in the back of her head that something was off. When she stepped back out into the yellow evening lamplight, a familiar shape slipping down the streets confirmed her intuition. Her brother made it as far as the Mirrored Gate before she clamped her hand around his wrist. Was he mirror-mad? What could he possibly be thinking? Who would want to leave the light, and to set sail on a steamer with a Tamaas captain he’d only met that morning? She’d argued with him, begging him to see sense, until they were both shouting. Deep in their quarrel, she’d barely noticed the shape in the mirror pressed up against his back until it was too late. It struck and he screamed, jerking to the side. Hand still latched around his arm, she slipped in turn, down the slope beyond the gate and both of their lives ended in an instant.

She’d later piece together what had happened from The Sympathetic Captain, most of her memories a blur, and Mihir knows, she’d had enough time on that ship to play her retelling back in her head in endless combinations. Before her brother had even met the ground, before his head had hit stone and his heart had stopped beating, he was Tamaas. As was she, not a fraction of a second later. The Captain had heard the commotion and was not far from the bottom of the cliff. She had insisted that the Captain take them both, that no one in the city would help them anymore. She had to get him to the next port where he could recover.

How his body had disappeared a day later, on a ship miles from the coast, was not one the Captain could answer, no matter how much she raged, how many objects in the cabin she smashed in her fugue. The Captain could only offer a sympathetic ear and a cup of tea.

When the ship finally docked in London she disappeared into the darkness, too ashamed of her grief to say goodbye. Her life was over, but somehow she would have to keep living, Tamaas or otherwise.

#my art #anyway new blorbo just dropped #tamara #also very normal about the sun #but differently #i haven't gotten there yet but she's going to meet ockham very soon #and are about to have a great time first overcoming the language barrier #and then the everything else #she initially thought ockham was mirror-mad #but as soon as they could understand each other well enough to learn hishertheir actual deal you bet she nearly had an aneurysm #coming from a culture where you fear what lurks in the Is-Not #only to become closest to a creature of the Is-Not #specifically courting the creatures she fears the most #ockham was also the one to ask her name and when she said she was simply tamaas #ockham said absolutely not try again and she eventually landed on tamara #initially it was a reminder of what she lost #but eventually simply was her name #there are also a lot of my notes on what i imagine varchaasi fashion looks like in that second image #based on a lot of older SE Asian clothing specifically cambodian #but with the added touch of living in perpetual summer heat and humidity #and a culture that does not do shadows #and doesn't have to deal with UV radiation #but if anyone wants to join me on the non-London fashion train #please talk to me i love this kind of worldbuilding

[adobe-outdesign]

have you reviewed the meditite line?

Meditite is one of my favorite types of Pokemon, that being the weird creature that's vaguely humanoid but in a way that makes it really hard to describe easily. In this case, it's an onion-headed creature that has meditation as a theme, with two swirls on the sides of its head and a primarily blue body.

As a whole, while I like Medicham more, this design is pretty good. I like the shape of the head, especially with how perfectly the eyes interlock with it. Speaking of eyes, they have a very distinct look to them, as does the mouth.

My only real issue with Meditite is that the white around the waist looks a bit weird—maybe if the white just extended down the leg a bit more. Also, I do wish it resembled its evo more. There are a few small similarities—gray skin, flat doll-like eyes, weird head structure—but I feel like the resemblance could've been better. I think this mostly could've been fixed by just swapping out the blue for Medicham's pink.

The shiny basically does this, and it works perfectly (though I would still keep the skin the neutral gray).

Medicham is such a weird looking 'mon, but I've always found myself really liking it. Something about those giant-ass legs and skinny body just gives it a really neat shape, and it's the right combo of strange and elegant. The baggy "pants" have just the right amount of gold accents and markings on them, which are accented by the same colors and shapes being used on the head.

My one complaint here is that the head thing doesn't go around the back of the head, so it's just kind of stuck in the front.

The 3D model up top actually makes this worse, as the pink used to extend down the head to a degree back when sprites were being used. I guess they changed it to be more accurate to the official art, but frankly I'd rather it not line up one-to-one if the overall model looks better.

And Mega Medicham's also really good; by far my favorite of the line. A lot of megas struggle with just being the originals with Stuff(TM) added to their designs without rhyme or reason, but Mega Medicham's got a very clear theme with the addition of psychic arms, which are vaguely Buddist/Hindu-esq and also make sense for a partial fighting-type.

But the other thing that works about it is that it feels like it improves and expands upon Medicham's base design in just the right way without going overboard. The somewhat awkward head piece has been replaced with a more turban-like design, and the arms have gained two golden bands, which carry the color through the design better than the original. The sheer size of the legs has been reduced down without loosing their visual punch, and they've been given a more natural shape as well. A few extra layers of gold bands have been added above the "pants" along with a row of blue beads, which accent its new blue eyes. It's better balanced in both color and form.

Another little detail I like about it is that it also makes the entire line look better by harkening back to Meditite—note how the blue accents are the same color as Meditite's body, or how the white hat matches its head better, or how the gold bands on the arms are placed similarly to Meditiate's white stripes. Good stuff.

My only little nitpick is that the pink plume on the top of the head looks a bit odd. It's meant to match the three plumes on the base design, but I feel like you could've extended the middle piece above the gold center, then made that and the two on the sides pink to achieve a similar effect. That's minor, though.

Overall, I like this one a lot. Meditite's got a few coherency issues with the rest of the line but still manages to have a unique design that continues into Medicham. Mega Medicham expands on the theme and improves the overall design in a meaningful way. Good stuff all around.

#meditite #medicham #mega medicham #pokemon #pokemon reviews

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 346: A Sunday at Melissa's, p4

The clock was chiming again as the two of us climbed the stairs. Well, she was climbing. I was in her arms. It was, I dunno, nine or something, maybe eleven. I was already exhausted from the morning I’d had. In the past hour I’d found my phone busted, been wrung dry by a hand job into the pool, and - oh yeah - nearly drowned. So, I couldn’t help but take the chance to close my eyes, and  luxuriate in her embrace as she carried me. Melissa was so strong, so confident, and this weekend I’d gotten to a place where I could put my pride aside and more easily accept her comforts. But, as relaxed as I was, the first bell toll caused my eyes to shoot open. It felt like it was ringing for me. 

“Where’s that clock?” I asked, curious. Hearing it from the kitchen earlier, I would have sworn it was in the great room near the stairs. Now that we were on the stairs, it sounded like it could be coming from the kitchen.

“Shhh, don’t worry about the clock,” Melissa hushed me, smiling down at me warmly, strangely. Anyway, she was bringing me back up to the bedroom for a shower, to clean off the chlorine and whatever remnants of last night still clung crusty to me. And, despite the heat of her body, a cold chill still ran down my spine. I needed a warming up. 

Quietly we passed down the open balcony hall that overlooked the great room, through her bedroom and into her en-suite bath. It was done simply but elegantly in creamy stone tiles, with natural light coming in from an overhead skylight. A glass wall separated a walk-in shower from which chrome fixtures and a huge rainhead shower glistened. 

With me still in her arms, she turned on the shower and let the water warm. “Can you stand by yourself?” she asked. 

“I think so,” I answered, without really even considering why she’d asked. Did you expect me to forget how to stand? Walk? Maybe not too unreasonable; I’d apparently just lost the ability to swim.

With great care she placed me down, and stepped me backwards under the deluge from above. My legs actually were shaky but ahhhhh the water was nice, perfectly warm. Patterned marble tiles were underfoot, larger stone ones lining the walls, while a chrome drain whisked water away. Melissa smiled at my obvious pleasure, still wrapped in a figure-hugging white towel and matching turban. She stood just outside the shower stall, on the other side of a low stone threshold. 

“So,” she began, her eyes having already drifted up from my feet, “Do you want to wash yourself or do I get to bathe you?”

“Um,” I started, eyeing the vast selection of gels, shampoos and other assorted bottles and tubes which lined an inset shelf to my left. I was confused by my options and the whiffs I got of her perfume reminded me of how good she was at being a woman, and how inept a man I was. 

Was this pheromone 0001.55.6344.gf, .6388.dd or .6349.gd you were using on me at that moment? Maybe a cocktail? Remind me to ask you later.

 I crossed my hands in front of me, unsure of myself. “Can you help?” I asked. 

“Of course, sweetie,” she beamed, and reached for the handheld spray attachment mounted to the wall. She turned on its water, checked its temperature, and crouched so she could begin to shower my body with its firm spray. “Is this coming out too hard, baby?” she asked, with earnest concern, looking up at me with honest eyes, “I can turn it down if it’s too much.”

“n-no it’s okay,” I answered, glimpsing down between her full breasts. Her towel was tied at the chest, and cleavage jiggled. As if enjoying the attention, she smiled as she adjusted the pressure and temperature making it just that much better. The spray from the shower wand was strong, but felt nice down my chest, up under my arms as she lifted my right wrist, then the left. It felt particularly good when - nnngh - she passed it between my legs, sprayed it up into my nethers. It gave me a jolt of pleasure, the jet pulsing into my scrotum and, goddamn me, I felt a new erection start to swell. The overhead water continued to wash over me as well. 

“Well, tell me if it’s too much,” she said, the evenness in her voice and straight face belying the fact that she was obviously paying special attention to my manhood, exciting it with the handheld spray. She tweaked the water pressure again, adjusted the temperature. 

My cock responded. Oh my god, that feels amazing, even better.

“That okay?” she asked.

“y-y-yes…” I managed, trying to keep from writhing in pleasure.

“You sure?” she pressed, “You seem so sensitive. If you're uncomfortable I can always just sit you up next to the sink, scrub you up with a washcloth instead.”

What, and make me feel even more like a newborn? “N-no I’m fine,” I assured, my cock betraying my thoughts with an excited throb. She proceeded to firmly spritz my whole body with the wand, passing it up my sides, over my arms and legs. Down my chest and belly. My boner was on its way back, at half-swollen mast, gradually growing under the warm attention of her shower and the tingles it brought. It felt great against my cock, as she paid it special service, watching it with curiosity as it  bobbed and swayed slowly hardening further under the pressure. “That feels really nice,” I admitted, suddenly craving her hand, or a mouth. 

With a wry smile she looked up at me before standing, to her full height. Her breasts were right in front of my face. She replaced the spray wand to its wall mount, though water still jetted from its nozzles. I tried to watch her face, read her expression, but my attention was immediately pulled toward her hands as she undid the big knot in her towel, which bound it to her chest. With more than a small amount of drama the towel fell, revealing her naked body. I couldn’t help but groan she was so perfect, her curves so jaw-droppingly stunning. By god her waist was small, her hips so flared. Well-trimmed womanhood lay between the cleft of thick, powerful thighs and legs which would shame a racehorse. Her tummy was softly trim and tanned, navel formed to vertical perfection,  the hint of her abdominals rippling beneath taut, flawless skin. And above, god help me, her breasts hung huge, giant globes just two shades paler than the rest of her, each a firm, ovate melon with large brown nipples, tan aureoles. My eyes looked up into enormous, monumental underboob, and saw the faint pattern of blue veins just under her skin’s surface. She was huge, huge! How tall had she become?! My god, I felt tiny. 

She giggled, amused by my awestruck expression, and pulled the towel from her hair. She shook her dark mane, semi-dry, and looked back down at me. She watched as I backed up as she stepped into the shower. Warm water from the ceiling now flowed over both of us. She reached for a bottle of shampoo, and squeezed some into her hand. With the other, she turned me around, and from behind her hands began rubbing my hair. I could feel her fingers firmly scrubbing my scalp, massaging shampoo into my sodden hair, a lather foaming up. My eyes fluttered under the indulgence of her attention as she worked it into my head, cleaning everything around my ears, rubbing the back of my neck with frothy shampoo.

To rinse, she pulled me back a bit, more fully under the rainhead and began to speak again to me. “So, tell me. How do you feel about our relationship dynamic now?” she asked, shielding my eyes with a hand over my brow, “Hm?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” I asked, water sputtering from my lips. I was a little surprised by the suddenness of her question. 

“Can’t you feel it changing again?” she said plainly, rubbing my hair under the showerfall to clear it of soap. “Because I can,” she continued, as she reached for something else behind her, from the shower shelf. She was squeezing something else from a bottle. “I can feel myself becoming more dominant over you, again. But in a like big mama-bear kinda way.” She was rubbing what sounded like gel between her hands, frothing it up. “And you’re getting more submissive, more dependent on me, weaker.”

“Wow, uh…” I began, not really knowing what to say. Whatever pride I still had, whatever vestiges of male ego and authority still rattled away inside my shattered soul rankled a bit at her suggestions…even though my cock again betrayed me with a throb. Yes, yes, yes. I was in a tough time, in life. Struggling a bit with my health, my sense of self worth. I’d found her, and I’d latched on a bit, I admit, to her strength. She was an entrancing beauty, to boot, young and vibrant, and it had been easy to allow myself to fall into her shadow, to let her establish herself as the stronger partner despite her age. I was content to watch her bloom bigger and bigger and more gorgeous seemingly every day while I seemed to recede. But still, her words stung a bit. “I dunno, about that, real-”

With shower gel in her hands, she’d reached around and grabbed my cock with her left hand. If it wasn’t at full stiffness before, now it certainly was. My voice, stopped in my throat, became little more than a guttural whimper as lightning coursed up my body from her grip. She lathered up my erection, then her  hand passed dutifully under my sac to clean me underneath.

“You were saying..?” she prompted me, a gentle squeeze to my testicles reminding me who was in charge. 

Yeah, uh, nope. I was speechless, struck, and she knew it. My body quivered and quaked, threatened to collapse at the knees as she kept up the pressure on my tender gonads. She held me for a bit and then - pleased by my acquiescent silence - moved her hand back up for a stroke up my shaft.

“Good boy,” she purred.

Her big, slippery left hand worked my cock with slick expertise. She knew exactly how to keep me frozen, paralyzed, quivering at her touch. Her other hand, also slathered with frothy gel, now ran down my backside, under and then up, between the cheeks of my butt. I gasped, flinched, and tried to keep from crying out as she lathered me up in there as well. She ran her hand up and down, in and out, gently but with confident command, as her left hand still stroked my erection. This…that…this was almost too much. I writhed, twisted, and began to pull away from her.

"Ugh, such a squirmy wormy," she said, giggling. I could hear her eyes rolling in mock annoyance, and she gripped my cock tighter, to bring me to heel. "Will you settle down and stop being such a baby?” She paused for a moment, then, gears turning. "Hmm..." she said, a playful smirk brightening her voice, "Forget that. Give in to those urges.” She began to stroke my cock again, and her voice dropped to an indulgent, baby-doll coo. “You can be as much of a baby as you want,” she said, as if now talking to a small child, “I promise mama will take good care of you."

Did she feel me shiver? Did she feel me shake? She heard me whine, for sure, because she began to giggle. While her left kept a grip on my cock her right hand left my butt and she spun me around by the shoulder to push me against the tile of the wall. The stone, for the second, was a shock of cold. Hand still on my shoulder, leaning in over me, Melissa bent me at the knees a bit and then put her right palm on the wall above me. She dropped her shoulder a touch, bringing her huge right breast to bump into my face. 

“Y-you have really big breasts…” I found myself saying, in awe at its size as she pulled it away, just a bit, so I could stare at its tumescence from below. 

“Mmhm I do…” Melissa chuckled, her great, wet, pale breast wobbling with her laughter. It was, my god, maybe twice the size of my head, if not more. She waited for me to continue, to see if I had any other observations, but seemed to be pleased with the quieting effect it had on me. Hypnotizing, isn’t it little man?

Yes. I watched water streaming off it, water running over her shoulder from above, down her breasts, over her nipple in thick rivulets. I saw how her areola was swelling, the little bumps of Montgomery glands forming, her nipple thickening in the warm, warm water.

“oh my god….” I groaned, as I watched the dribbles, rivers.

“Thirsty?” she asked, from above, “Open up.” 

Without a thought I complied, opening my mouth as she continued to stroke my cock below. Like a needy bird I eyed the warm water streaming off of her breast above me.

Adjusting her shoulder scantly, coming in closer, she directed the rivulets onto my face, splashing onto my forehead and eyes, running down my nose and cheeks. She shifted again, and I turned my head to the left, so her wet nipple now dribbled everything right to my open mouth from inches away. I gurgled, and took it, and swallowed.

“There you go, cutie..!” she giggled, and watched as I opened my mouth again for more shower water, warm from the rainhead, warm from her skin. “Drink up, that’s right, drink up…”

I held my mouth open, longer, longer, let it fill, until water bubbled out. Then I closed, gagging a bit into another swallow, warmth down my throat. I swear I tasted her in it, and I reopened. 

She came in closer, dropping, bringing her nipple now right to my lips, to my open mouth. I closed, latching loosely onto her warm nipple, water still coming into my mouth from her areola, I sucked and drank the shower’s water now directly from her breast, from her skin. I swallowed, and gulped, awkwardly and clumsily. She pushed her engorged nipple more into my mouth, gently forcing it open further for me to accept her tit. The water was now dribbling around my lips as I let her push her nipple in. Whatever this was, whatever game she was playing, I was not resisting, I was only letting it happen.

Nipple in my mouth, I lapped at it, I suckled water from it. She took, then, the handheld spray and adjusted the stream’s volume so it gurgled water out rather than sprayed, and layed it atop her right breast, near her shoulder. Water now came down to me in a thicker flow, burbling and bubbling around my mouth, running over my nose and cheeks. She was giggling again, and I was sucking and drinking as best I could, mouthing at her nipple and gargling the warm water from it. It was thick with her pheromones, now I was sure, and instincts inside me made me latch on tighter, not wanting to ever leave this position.

“Oh, Jayyyyheyheyheyheyyyyyy…!” she giggled and purred, cooing down to me, trying her best not to just  give in and squash my face with her tit, “You’re making me feel like a real mommmyyyyyyyyy…” Rather than plaster me with her breast, mush my head into the wall, she wanted to let me keep water-nursing, play-suckling from her. Go, baby, go, drink up, drink up from me. Her giggles had faded, replaced by little groans.

Water flowed into my mouth, when I would come for breath, and it gave me life. I drank, I drank and I suckled and drank. I felt Melissa starting to tremble in arousal above me and it was only then that I realized holy shit holy shit…her hand…her hand…I’m about to come.

I fought it back but nnngh oh my god I was close, it was coming. My hand reached for her, and found her womanhood between her legs. I cupped it, stroked up just once and then she shuddered. All it took was one stroke, fingers already soaked. She had been leaning forward more, now unable to keep her ample tits from plastering my head into the wall, and as I suckled water from her she was coming, orgasming, shaking and pushing me harder into the wall as she groaned. I came, then, too, in a burst and a muffled bark into her tit worried even in my climax that I might both smother and drown. Or I might be head-crushed to a pulp or fall to the floor as my legs trembled and gave out from under me.  The weight of Melissa's chest was really the only thing keeping me standing. My panicked moans resonated through her boobs only increasing her pleasure as her hand continued to move firmly along my shaft. My jism had splashed first against her upper hip and thigh, a pulse, and then another and another and another, each washed down her leg by the water warm flowing down her, around us, down our bodies. 

After a minute, a few wet damp tender moments in which we pleasured one another, my hand on her, hers on me, her breast in my face and nipple in my mouth as our climaxes waned, she pulled me away. Warm water still washed us as we basked in the afterglow, her hair was dark and wet over her shoulders and face. “Oh my God, Jay…” she breathed, chest heaving, looking down at me as if with new eyes. The shower wand had been dropped, forgotten, dangling from the wall on its chrome hose, gurgling out water still.

I looked up at her, blinking shower water from my eyes. I didn’t know how to react, I just looked at her. I was so scared of what this meant for our relationship.

“Stay here,” she said, finally, turning off the water and turning to step from the shower. She was retrieving two huge new, white towels from a rack on the wall. One she draped over my head and shoulders, its long folds reaching well down past my waist, while she dried herself with the other. Motionless I watched her, entranced by both the impressive muscles under her smooth, perfect skin and the soft contours and jiggles of her body’s curves. She finished with herself quickly, and then turned to reach down and place her towel around the one already covering me, wrap them both tightly around my entire body, my arms bound to my sides, until nearly all that showed of me was my face and maybe my feet sticking out the bottom. She then swept me up into her strong arms and carried me into the bedroom.

I know no man can really remember what it was like when he was an infant wrapped in blankets and cradled in his mother's arms. I certainly did not - I barely remembered my mother at all - and yet, completely swaddled in those huge, soft towels and cuddled securely against her naked chest with my head tucked against her strong shoulder, looking up in amazement at those beautiful, larger-than-life features looming so close above my own, that's exactly how I felt. Her smile was wide, warm, benevolent and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to be hers, to be held and loved and cared for by this magnificent giantess.  That she seemed more than human, a goddess of power and beauty, was beginning to be less and less of an exaggeration. To have my body literally melt into hers and become one with hers forever would be a dream come true.

She carried me to a large, soft chair in the corner of her bedroom and sat down in it, placing me on her naked lap. With my head still tucked against her shoulder, my entire body still swaddled, she dried my face and hair with a corner of the towel. Then, as I fell deeper and deeper under the spell of the warmth and softness of her naked body, she dried the rest of me with little pats and hugs through the towels encasing my body.

“Do you see this, do you see how we are here, you and me?” she finally spoke to me, “This is right. This is how it’s meant to be.”

I looked up at her and blinked, unable to find any of the words I needed to say. I felt her left arm reach under me and lift. Cradling me now in her arms, she gently lowered me down to rest my head on her huge right breast. I looked up at her from her boob, my left cheek near her nipple. 

“I could be good at this. I could be very, very good at this,” she said to me, adjusting my body in her strong arms, “All you need to do is want it, and let me grow. Let me grow into it.”

Did I know what she meant? Did I really know, understand, comprehend what she meant? I don’t know if I did, but I felt it. I felt the bond between us stronger now than ever. 

“So is it? Is it what you want? Tell me. Tell me this is what you want.”

Of course it is. 

“y-yes…” I said. 

“Yes what, sweetie?” she prompted. She needed to hear me say it. 

“this is what I want…”

“Good boy…” she nearly groaned, and - I feel it changing again, already, inside my body - turned my face into her breast. On instinct I opened, took her nipple in, and latched on….

========================================

Thanks muchly to ResistanceIsFutile, editor in residence

Patreon? Patreon.

#growing into the job

[foundtherightwords]

Signal Fire - Chapter 2

Summary: Two years after Corroded Coffin finally made it big, Eddie learns that Chrissy's mother has passed away. He returns to Hawkins in the hope of reuniting with her, but would Chrissy be able to overcome her fears and allow herself some happiness at last?

Warnings: angst, implied/mentions of abuse, homophobia, and drug use, some smut

Chapter word count: 3.2k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

After she had assured Jason that she was fine and thanked him for his help, after Jason had left with his wife and she was alone in the house, which had once seemed so suffocating when her mother had been alive and was now so lonely and echoing, Chrissy finally allowed herself to break down. She'd hurt Eddie, she knew. In the past two years, she had tried so hard to suppress all thoughts of him, to not rely on his memories to get through some of her darkest times, because she was afraid, afraid that in a moment of weakness, she would call him and he would drop everything to rush back to her, and it would become a habit and send them both down a spiral of co-dependency.

So when he showed up at her door so unexpectedly, the way she practically collapsed into his arms, and the passion with which they ravished each other had scared her so much, that she had to push him away again.

But he'd hurt her too. How dare he insinuate that she and Jason... How ridiculous men are! She found it both laughable and oddly sweet that Eddie could be jealous of Jason still. She was tempted to call Eddie now, to clear the air and ask if they could talk later, when both of them were calmer and their emotions weren't so raw, but she decided to wait. She wasn't sure if it was a childish decision, made to punish Eddie for saying those hurtful things to her, or if it was a mature one, as she wanted to talk the whole thing over with her therapist first.

Her mother hadn't believed in therapy. In her senior year, when Chrissy had let it slip that she'd been talking to Miss Kelley, the school's guidance counselor, about her struggles at home and at school, her mother had screamed at Chrissy about "airing her dirty laundry to a stranger". Afterward, Chrissy had stopped going to her appointments with Miss Kelley. Instead, she'd sought out Eddie for some weeds and something stronger, wanting to drown her anxiety in the peaceful bliss of the drugs. Only she'd found a different kind of peace instead. It was strange to think that if it hadn't been for her mother, perhaps Chrissy would have never given Eddie another thought.

After the second stroke had bound her mother to a wheelchair and bound Chrissy to her, after Eddie had left for LA, Chrissy had started seeing a therapist in Bloomington, almost out of defiance to her mother more than a real desire to deal with her issues. It also helped that Dr. Hall did not look at all like Mrs. Cunningham's notion of a therapist. With steel-gray hair covered in a turban and costume jewelry that clinked and clanked every time she moved, she looked more like a poet, like Maya Angelou or Sonia Sanchez, and if nothing else, at least Chrissy found her presence soothing.

They talked a bit about her mother first.

"I miss her," Chrissy said. "This morning I woke up and half expected to hear her calling for me. Is that weird?"

"No, not at all." Dr. Hall shook her head, causing her earrings to jingle. "It's complex, the way we feel about our parents. The important thing is that you recognize these feelings and let yourself process them at your own pace."

"Also..." Chrissy twisted the strap of her purse. "I kind of—slept with my ex. After the funeral."

Dr. Hall's eyebrows went up a fraction. "This would be the ex whom you broke up with to stay with your mother, wouldn't it?"

Chrissy nodded, aware that her face was burning up.

"And how did you feel about that?"

"Confused. Guilty."

"Guilty because of your mother? Because she just passed and you feel you're not mourning her enough?"

"It's not just that. You remember how I told you he had to move away for his job, and I didn't want to go with him? I still don't."

"Why not?"

"I have a job that I like here, I have my students, friends—well, co-workers. If I follow him, I'll have only him. And his job is very demanding. It won't be healthy."

"That's a good start. You have a pretty clear idea of your issues."

Chrissy let out a hollow laugh. "Yeah. Too clear."

"So you felt guilty for leading him on?"

"I think so. I mean, I didn't plan on sleeping with him. I was just sad and scared and he was... available." But even as she said this, Chrissy knew it wasn't entirely true. If it had been any of her exes standing at her door that day, she wouldn't have acted the same.

Dr. Hall fixed the bracelets that had become tangled on her wrist. "I'm not a couples' therapist, Chrissy. We're here to work on you. But if you want to make this relationship work, we could add that to your list of goals as well."

Was that what she wanted? Chrissy recalled not just how safe she'd felt in Eddie's arms, but also how empty the past two years had been and the blaze of happiness she'd felt when she opened the door and saw him.

"You want to know what else I felt after I slept with him?" she said. "I was elated." This was true. She couldn't stop thinking of the way Eddie had felt underneath and inside her, the way his hands had gripped at her, the way his mouth had moved over hers. The memory both mortified and thrilled her, but the thrill was stronger. The thrill of being with him again. The thrill of knowing he still wanted her, still loved her. "But how do I know if it's what I really want and I'm not just clinging to him because I'm lonely?"

"Aren't we all just looking for someone we can turn to when we're lonely? It's not a weakness. We need to get you to a place where you feel confident enough in yourself to be vulnerable again." Dr. Hall smiled as Chrissy stared at her. "I know it sounds like an oxymoron, but that's what it takes."

***

Dr. Hall's words were still ringing in Chrissy's ears as she drove home. Confident enough to be vulnerable. Was that where she had been going wrong all this time? She'd tried so hard to stay strong all these years; she never thought being vulnerable was the end goal. Vulnerable enough to properly mourn her mother, vulnerable enough to let Eddie in, to let him take care of her like he'd asked.

The sign of Roane Hill Cemetery coming up made her pause. Well, if she wanted to change, then there was no time like the present.

She bought some flowers from a convenience store along the way. She didn't check to see if they were fresh or not. She drove into the cemetery, found the Cunningham family plot, and placed the flowers on her mother's grave. There were still flowers left from the funeral, so she put her own bouquet on the side. On second thought, she placed some on her father's grave as well.

She stood there for a long time. All the things she wanted to say, all the things she wished she could have said to her mother, were darting through her mind like a murmuration of starlings, their shapes always changing before she could get a firm grasp of them. All she knew was this—her parents had never realized their mistakes. Her dad had turned a blind eye and buried his head in the sand up until the moment of his heart attack. Her mom... well, even when she was alone and dying, she had remained bitter and desperate to maintain a "perfect" façade. And all for what? They had both died miserable and lonely.

Now, standing at their graves, Chrissy was determined not to suffer the same fate.

"Goodbye, Mom and Dad," eventually she said, turned on her heels, and left.

***

Her next stop was Wayne's apartment.

When Corroded Coffin first got signed to Metal Blade, Eddie had wanted to put his advance toward a down payment for a house, or to bring Wayne to LA, but Wayne had refused both. A house would be too big for him, and he had lived his whole life in Hawkins and never wanted to go anywhere else. But he'd conceded to moving out of the trailer park and into a nice apartment. When she found out, Chrissy had been happy for both uncle and nephew—she knew one of Eddie's biggest regrets was not being able to take care of Wayne in his old age, and she was glad Eddie had managed to do so at last.

The only time she allowed herself to think of Eddie was when she brought Wayne his Sunday lunch, or, if she couldn't make it, a pie or some dessert for his dinner. Wayne would have a beer open for her and share with her the latest Corroded Coffin news, or he would tell her stories of when Eddie was a kid. For all his pride in his nephew, Chrissy knew that the old man was lonely and missed having Eddie around. They had that in common.

That day, though, she had no time for chitchat or even polite greetings.

"Is Eddie here?" she asked as soon as Wayne opened the door. "Can I talk to him?"

Wayne's face fell. "Oh, honey," he said ruefully. "He just left for the airport."

Chrissy's stomach dropped. "But I thought he wasn't leaving until Sunday?"

"Change of plans, he said."

The only change was that he thought she wanted nothing to do with him. Chrissy pulled out her phone and dialed Eddie's number, which she hadn't been able to bring herself to delete or block. It went straight to voicemail.

"Is he going back on tour?"

"Yeah," Wayne nodded. "Europe. For three months."

Europe! That's practically half the world away! And she couldn't wait that long. She had to talk to him now.

"When did he leave?"

"About an hour ago," Wayne said, surprised at her panic mode.

It took an hour and a half to get to Indianapolis. She may still catch him at the airport, if she hurried. Chrissy ran to her car without even saying goodbye, leaving Wayne staring after her in confusion.

As her car tore down the highway, she called Eddie again. Still voicemail. She left a message this time, asking him to call her back.

A flashing on the meter caught her eyes, and her stomach dropped once more. It was her gas light. No way she'd make it to Indianapolis. She wasn't even sure she could make it to the nearest gas station, which was fifteen miles away, according to a sign.

Suddenly, the rush she'd felt after leaving the cemetery vanished, and she realized how foolish and senseless this was. Even if she could get to the airport, she may still miss Eddie. And if she managed to find him, what then? What would she say? She had been so focused on seeing him again that she hadn't even thought about what she was going to say. Besides, he was going to Europe for three months; he couldn't exactly drop out of that to come back to her. Not that she even wanted him to. So why was she in such a rush? She'd left him a message. He would be sure to get it as soon as he landed. They could talk then. It didn't have to be face-to-face. Talking on the phone wasn't exactly her idea of a romantic reunion, but they had a lot to discuss, and none of it could be resolved immediately anyway. This mad dash to stop him at the airport would accomplish nothing. This wasn't a rom-com.

With a sigh, Chrissy looked for the nearest exit that would bring her back to Hawkins.

She saw a gas station on her way back and pulled over. A lopsided sign at the pumps announced, in barely legible chicken scratch, that the card reader was broken and customers must pay with cash inside. Chrissy considered pushing on, but she didn't want to risk getting stranded in her rust bucket. With an exasperated sigh, she went inside. The pimply-faced clerk didn't even look up from the comic book he was reading.

Chrissy was digging through her purse to see if she had enough cash for gas and maybe some junk food as well, when the door behind her chimed.

"Can I get twenty on pump two, please?" a voice said.

Chrissy's stomach dropped for the third time. She knew that voice.

She whirled around. The speaker was taking off his sunglasses with one hand and brushing back his messy curls with the other, his brown eyes wide-opened, staring at her in disbelief.

Eddie.

At that moment, she realized why she'd been in such a rush to speak to him. It wasn't because there had been any urgency to discuss their relationship. It wasn't because she was afraid that she might lose him if he went back to LA. No. It was simply this: She missed him.

For two years, there was a void in her heart, a void the exact size and shape of Eddie. She'd learned to live with it and had gone so used to it that sometimes she didn't even notice it was there. Only when he'd come back and gone again so soon that she felt it, like someone who was starving only noticed the hunger more acutely after they'd had a tiny morsel of food. That was why she'd driven like a madwoman after him, just so she could see him and hear him and never chase him away again as she'd done so foolishly.

And now, seeing his eyes light up with surprise and joy at the sight of her, she realized that void was slowly disappearing, filled by the warm glow that always bubbled up inside her whenever she looked at him. That glow expanded behind her ribs, tightened her throat, and rooted her to the spot, so she could only stand there like an idiot, smiling at him with trembling lips, waiting for him to come to her.

One step, two steps, and he was so close she could smell the familiar scent of his leather jacket, a smell that took her back eighteen years, to that day they'd met in the woods, the day that had started all of this.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. From his breathless voice, she knew that for every emotion that was coursing through her, he felt it too.

"I—" She tried to steady her own voice. "I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were going to the airport."

"I changed my mind. I mean, I'm still leaving on Sunday." Her heart stuttered, and the disappointment must have shown on her face, because he quickly added, "But I'm here—now. Why are you here?"

"I went to Wayne's place. I wanted to talk to you. Didn't you get my message?"

He tilted his head to look at her more closely. "No, I haven't checked my phone. Talk to me about what?"

"I want to apologize. For pushing you away like that." That wasn't all she wanted to say to him, but it was a good start.

He looked away for a moment, before turning his eyes back on her, so tender and yet so intense at the same time. "I'm sorry too. You just lost your mom, and I made it all about me."

"But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about—"

"Hey, are you going to pay for your gas or what?" The clerk had finally put his comic book down and was scowling at them.

Eddie turned to the clerk irritably. "Just give us a minute, would you?" He took Chrissy's arm and steered her toward an aisle at the back of the store, where they could have a modicum of privacy. "So what did you want to talk about?" he asked, fixing those heart-melting eyes on her.

"About us."

"What about us?"

She scrambled to remember all the lines and speeches she'd prepared since her session with Dr. Hall, since her visit to the cemetery. Somehow they all vanished when he looked at her like that. She kept her eyes on the floor to calm her nerves. "I've been thinking. If you still want me, I can move to LA," she said, her words tumbling over each other. "I can apply to a nursing school out there—finish my degree—get a job—"

"You hate nursing school."

"Well, I can always wait for the Laker Girls to have an opening," she joked. When Eddie said nothing, she risked a glance at him. He was still looking at her with those tender eyes, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips.

"What about your job here? What about your students?" he asked.

Chrissy hesitated. "They're just going to have to do without me," she said, and added, surprising herself, "Because I can't do without you."  

A small exhalation, which might have been relief or delight, escaped Eddie. He reached out and took both of her hands in his. It felt so good to just stand there with his thumbs gently massaging her knuckles and her palms that she wished they could stay like that forever, without having to say anything at all.

"Maybe I can move back," he said quietly.

A wild hope sprouted inside her, but she had to pull her hands away and shake her head. "Eddie, no—"

"Hear me out," he said, seizing her hands again and lifting them to his lips. "We can split our time between Hawkins and LA. You can come on tour with me, and I can come back here to record. It's not like when the band first started; we can make music anywhere now. If there's no music scene in Hawkins, fuck it, we'll create one."

In her heart, the tiny sprout of hope took root, grew, flowered, and bore fruits. "Really?" she whispered.

"Really. And the answer's yes, by the way."

"The answer to what?"

"You said if I still want you. The answer's yes. I always want you." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and brushed the back of his hand over her cheek, down her jaw. "In fact, I want you so much, I'd take you here and now if I could—"

"Eddie!" Chrissy put her hand over his mouth and glanced at the clerk, horrified, but they were well hidden. Eddie laughed and removed her hand to kiss her. As their lips collided, he lifted her clear off the floor, and she threw her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, pressing herself against him so as much of their bodies was wrapped up in each other as possible, while warmth and light flooded into her until the void in her heart vanished altogether.

Making out between bags of beef jerky and cheese puffs wasn't exactly Chrissy's idea of a romantic reunion, but it would do. It would do nicely.

There will be a little epilogue after this, so stay tuned!

#hellcheer #eddissy #hellcheersource #hellcheer fic #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic

[y2klostandfound]

Space Channel 5 Part 2 on 电子游戏软件 (Video game software No.92) (2002-03)

Translation in English:

PS2:

Manufacturers:SEGA Release Date:2002.2.14 Type: Music ACT Price: 6800 yen other: -

DC:

Manufacturers:SEGA Release Date:2002.2.14 Type: Music ACT Price: 6800 yen other: -

Ulala in Double report

This winter, Ulala's dynamic dance and music will make everyone HAPPY again!

HAPPY Space Musical has opened!

The dance incident caused by the Moro star (Morolians) was finally resolved with the efforts of Ulala, a reporter from Space Channel 5. The world seems to have returned to peace, but recently there has been an incident of a mysterious organization making people dance wildly! The report of Ulala started again!

To save the charmed people!

As long as there is evil in the galaxy, there will be people who love music, dancing and games in this world! One year after the release of the first generation, the sequel of "Space Channel 5" appeared again, and the reporter was still Ulala! In this story, Ulala used her dance to get rid of the evil group that made people dance wildly. The new work adds new dance battles, musical instrument battles, song battles, and a new recording method! Since this work will be launched in PS2 and DC versions at the same time, it has attracted much attention. Below we will provide you with a detailed report on "Space Channel 5 PART.2"!

In this incident, FUSE, the producer of "Space Channel 5", once again used Dance Ulala. Since two years have passed since the Morolians incident,and as a reporter, Ulala has not been able to improve her visiting skills because the world has been peaceful, but her dancing and singing skills have improved a lot! In this work, Ulala put on a white dress, with her pink hair and vigorous dancing, she looks very charming!

Dance group on stage!?

The evil organization that suddenly appeared is a "Dancing troupe (Rhythm Rouges)" that makes people dance wildly and abducts them. The guy in the middle wearing a red turban seems to be their leader, surrounded by some odd-looking, bad-hearted minions. From their eyes will shoot a beam of light that makes people dance, very dangerous! But the danger is dangerous, their cute look but often let you forget the danger!

It's going very well!

Ulala is back in action!

Are jaguars dangerous?

the evil force in the galaxy

Everyone goes crazy dancing

Special Catalog : Here are the highlights The duel of musical instruments!

Guitar! Dance Ulala holds the guitar for a fierce dance! And a drum kit! Playing the drum kit is also a must! This is the new musical instrument battle imported by this work. The types of musical instruments can be completely developed by yourself, and you don’t have to worry about the difficulty of operating the musical instrument. This is a very easy-to-use system. If skilled, you will certainly let you excited!

Still dancing

The theme of the game is dancing. Wu Lala, hurry up and rescue them! Once the rescue is successful, people will dance with Wu Lala. There are so many types of dances and roles, and it takes a lot of energy to watch them all!

Fierce battle with strange plants

Ulala will display all her talents to fight! Oh, what's that in front of her? Is it a large dangerous plant? It caught Wu Lala. Danger! O sky, fly freely in the air? What kind of difficulties will Ulala really face?

Fly, Ulala

SPACE MIKEL (SPACE MICHAEL) Director

The superstar of the whole universe, SPACE MIKEL (SPACE MICHAEL) decided to make an appearance this time! After the retirement of the previous director, he took up the post of Director of Space Channel 5. In the midst of a busy schedule, SPACE MIKEL(SPACE MICHAEL)revealed the situation of the super dance for us!

Special Catalog : A software full of aura in music!

Pleasant music, dynamic dance, fanatical performance, Ulala's performance is perfect! It is worthy of the title of "Space Musical". Players seem to have also participated in a musical that costs 20,000 yen to see at the Imperial Theater. This work will be sold on both PS2 and DC versions on February 14th, and I highly recommend it to everyone!

#space channel 5: part 2 #space channel 5 #sega #ulala

[ayesha-rose]

Whether I’m drunk or sober

I’m a slave to those beautiful eyes

When I lose sight of that beautiful world-soul

I loathe myself, my life and all the world.

I’m a slave to the face of the one

who keeps me in the rose garden, day and night.

When I see a mirror like that

how can I take my eyes off it?

I am the soul of idols, my idol said.

I said: I’ll testify to that, beloved.

He said: If you are filled with my passion,

not a hair of you will remain.

I’m a candle that burns to ashes

any moth who comes too close.

I told him: Burn me as much as you want,

my remains will still smoke of your love.

I flew beyond this world’s compass. How strange,

I turn in this circle like the legs of a compass.

The cupbearer brought me the bill.

I said: Here, take the turban from my head.

No, no, take my whole head, but right now

help me to sober up just a little.

Show me that hidden world

because I don’t believe in this world any more.

| Hazrat Rumi R.A

[starfirexuchiha]

Fire Emblem 0 (Cipher) Album Book Volume 4 - English Translation

Did you know that there were 4 story books made for Fire Emblem Ciphers?

Volume 1 is about Ike and FE9 / FE10

Volume 2 is about Male Corrin and Fates

Volume 3 is about Female Corrin and Fates

and Volume 4 is about Roy and FE6 / FE7

Thank you so much ZoraTwilight for scanning the Volume 4 book for me! I was able to translate the story within it! (I was supposed to translate this years ago but I was buried in college homework/exams at the time and forgot I'm sorry💦)

My translation isn't perfect but I tried my best to make the English sentences not sound weird. Some phrases in Japanese cannot be easily translated to English. So here goes!

Fire Emblem 0 (Cipher)

Album Book Vol. 04

Shadows taking over, Light of Hope

-----A sinister shadow is about to overtake this continent…

The sandstorm is whirling like crazy. As if it’s something that refuses to be approached. As if it’s never going away.

“Hey… do you know about this rumor?”  The guy in front of a caravan said. While wrapping his turban with the scarf is covering his mouth, the man walking next to him spoke out: 

“I’m tired… talk about that gossip to someone else will ya?”

“Hey don’t say that, there are many legends about this Nabata desert.” 

The listener gave him a dull look, but the speaker continued to run his mouth. The speaker’s face is also tired, but he at least wanted to distract himself from the unbearable desert heat as well as the drifting dust in the sandstorm. 

“First of all… there are valuable treasures buried everywhere in this great desert.” 

“Yeah…”

“And I heard about a story where there’s a secret village hidden somewhere around here. It’s a village where the descendants of dragons live.”

“I see, I see…”

“And there’s a large temple brimming with cold water underground or something…”

“…..”

The story is hard to believe. There shouldn’t be hard ground in the sand as far as the eye can see. These two are traveling merchants. They do business while carrying loads of items. Walking in the desert is a normal thing for them. In this great desert, they usually shouldn’t be traveling through the dangerous sandstorm. But this time, they chose this route because there are buried packages from Bern soldiers that contain large amounts of money here. However… if the contents inside the packages hold just food and soldier equipment, then what the heck do they do now? No, they do not need to know about such things. In fact, it’s more risky to raise such a question. 

“There’s one more thing…”

The rumor-loving man still continued to tell the story. Even though the story sounds fake, what other pleasant things are there to talk about? 

“I also heard that a ghost of a beautiful woman tends to show up around here too.” 

Just as he said that, the ghost suddenly began to appear. Right before the merchant’s eyes, the sand whirling in the storm grew stronger. It’s so harsh that the sand begins to stick onto the merchants’ carts.

And then the men saw her. Amidst the raging sandstorm stood a shadow of a woman standing in the dunes. She is as beautiful as the rumors say, the figure of the divine woman appears to be more fascinating than frightening…

“Is that…. THE GHOST YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT JUST NOW?!”

“GRAAHHHHHHH!”

The frightening sound echoed. At first it seemed that the sound of the wind became stronger but that’s not it. A bigger shadow was looming just behind that woman. The strange looking monster figure closely resembled the ones seen in fairy tale picture books for young children.

“It’s… It’s a DRAGON!!!”

As they cried out, the caravan group ran away at once, leaving their horses and goods behind. 

There’s an area in the desert where one can hear the sound of gentle water flowing and leaves rustling from the trees. The sunlight filtering through the trees created small patches of light in a small area. One could hardly believe that it is the same area as the desert a while ago…

“Hey! Big sister Sophia!”

In the desert resides a village around one oasis. It is commonly known as Nabata Village, a Utopia where humans and dragons live together. Among the powerful territories in Elibe, such an isolated land like this one exists. 

“Huh? Say it in a little more detail please~”

Fae inflates her cheeks with a face of tantrum. Sophia laughs again, sounding a little worried. Since birth, Fae is not allowed to leave the village. It’s because her power is too strong and that there is a risk that she will be used under the wrong hands of unknown people. Therefore, she should not be allowed to talk about her interest regarding the outside world. Sophia knew that. 

“I really…. don’t have anything to say”

She was watching a caravan passing by. One cannot reach this village unless they know the restricted route to get there. Apparently it doesn’t seem that someone had found the way, but Sophia had a bad feeling about this. Sophia, who inherits the blood of the dragon, doesn’t have tremendous power like Fae does, but instead has magical powers that no ordinary person can possess.  Foreseeing the future is one of them. She felt it. She foresaw that an unknown shadow is going to cover all of Elibe. Something bad is going to happen… so she hugged Fae close and frowned. 

 “Big Sister…. what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Fae looked worried. Her innocent face expresses unhappiness knowing that she continues to be confined in this oasis. But Sophia has been wishing for Fae to be released from this eternal prison. Someday, to her heart’s content, she wants to play with her while she is free and happy. However, that desire is far away as if she can sense that it is hidden behind the dark clouds in the sky… 

The sounds of a horse’s hooves echo in the courtyard under the clear sky. As the horse is walking, a young man with gold shining hair and blue eyes is seen with a bit of dirt on his body, showing a bitter smile on his face.

“Checkmate” 

Said a female knight riding a horse. The young blonde man who had fallen on the ground, raised his defeated face and returned an invigorating smile. 

“You win…. Mage General”

The name of the female knight is Cecilia. She is the Mage General from Etruria’s 3 generals. The young man she defeated is Klein. Against this skilled bow user, Cecilia thought that it had been the first time in a long time that she had such a tough sparring match. The young man skillfully dodged her wind magic, and has great precision when he shoots his arrows many times. If Cecilia didn’t change the trajectory of her Aircaliber magic, she might have lost that match. Klein is a noble of the Reglay family and is currently engaged in military service in the Western Isles. He was with Cecilia when returning to Etruria for a report and decided to have a sparring match with her on the premises of a villa. And now…

“You and your younger sister have a considerable amount of skill. Perhaps the next Mage General of Etruria will be Clarine I wonder?”

“Haha… please don’t tell my sister that.” 

It all began in a dinner party when Klein’s younger sister Clarine started asking Cecilia to become their mage instructor.  The people of the dinner party were surprised at such an unfamiliar offer but Cecilia accepted it. The place was small but Cecilia was able to teach her a few magic tricks. 

-----It was wonderful! But… given that Clarine’s brother uses a bow, General Cecilia cannot teach him. Clarine insisted she do it, but Cecilia will not. However, Klein did mention when greeting Cecilia, that a sparring match would be a great opportunity. 

“Now then… if you’ll excuse me…”

Klein is about to leave while brushing off the dust on him.

“Klein, can you spare me a moment?”

“Huh? Um… of course…”

Cecilia was worried about the state of Klein’s mind during their match. She understands that Klein is an innocent young man during that match, so she also wanted to hear his story a little more. 

“Is General Arcard doing well?” 

“Yes. The General is trying day and night to suppress the rebellious group in the West Isles. I am trying hard to suppress the rebels too but…”

Klein stopped talking after saying that, and took his gaze away from Cecilia with an expression that looks as if he is thinking about the distant lands in the west. He hesitated to say anything because he was hesitant to reveal anything like a complaint about his military service or his superiors. He was afraid to say that there was something disturbing about this expedition. For Cecilia, just knowing about it is enough.

“I see, I understand” 

-----Let’s meet again. Future Archer General. As Cecilia said this, she smiled as she watched Klein leave.

The Western Isles is an expedition that is far away from the capital. General Arcard is currently ruling that place. I heard he was suppressing the rebel soldiers but… there are rumors that he is in some way in contact with the higher-ups, and I heard some not-so-good stories out of that.

I hope that they are not planning something by taking advantage of how difficult it is to see in the fog… and speaking of rumors, I heard that recently there has been an influx of smuggling illegal goods and mysterious cargo within Etruria. There are various nefarious schemes being planned without my knowledge. Should I briefly consult with the other war commanders in advance to confront those who pose a threat to the country?

Cecilia was pondering about this while looking at the sky, which was beginning to cloud over, when suddenly a messenger soldier came rushing in. 

“What happened?”

“A report! T-The Bern army has crossed the border and is marching into Lycia!” 

“What?!”

The Kingdom of Bern is a large nation located on the eastern side of the continent of Elibe, and although it clashed with Etruria in the past, in recent years, their relationship maintained stability. Bern’s relationship with Lycia shouldn’t be bad either. I also heard that Zephiel, who became the king at a young age, is a man of great character and is a spitting image of a king. Why on earth is he…

However for Cecilia, a general of Etruria, that is not the first thing she should think about. Although it’s not her country’s problem, they have a better relationship with Lycia than with Bern. First, she must immediately consider what countermeasures that her army should take. In some cases, she could send reinforcements over to Lycia. And so…

She ran. Roy… Lilina… She remembered the faces of her beloved disciples whom she taught how to fight, back when she was stationed in Lycia. Also Klein and Clarine of Etruria… She is feeling uneasy that promising young people in this continent are getting dragged into a war by a great unseeable force…

When I awoke, I found myself in a small room surrounded by humidity, darkness, and rocks----- It was a prison.

In his hazy consciousness, Hector, the Marquis of Ostia remembered why he was in this place.

It was a complete surprise for Lycia that the neighboring country of Bern, which they had maintained friendship up until now, is suddenly attacking them.

However, the initial confusion was short-lived, for an alliance of lords immediately gathered with their troops at Araphen, with Hector as their leader. They formed an allied army with all of their soldiers, and prepared to confront the Bern Kingdom’s army. Although they are outnumbered, the army alliance is known for their strong unity, and their spirit of not losing against a big army kept their morale high. 

Well, that’s how it should be, until Bern showed up leading an army of resurrected dragons…

Looking at it, Hector’s beloved heavy armor that had been with him for many years was cracked and brutally destroyed in many places. Also, the wounds he sustained when he faced a dragon on the front lines, covered his whole body.

Since my youth, I have been through many battles and fought alongside with many friends… But my body that I once considered to be very strong, is reaching its limit.

-----This life too, is also… 

Amidst the painful defeat, and the humiliation of being imprisoned in the dungeon of an ally’s castle, Hector sensed that his death was drawing near.

“Lilina…”

Hector couldn’t help but say his daughter’s name. His daughter got her good looks from her mother, and she also gained a lot of trust from her retainers. Plus, she has recently shown her talent as a mage. Since she’s his daughter, she’ll be strong enough to survive. He’s not worried about the future. However, not being able to witness her growth would be painful and unbearable. The heart of a fierce warrior who is at the brink of death, is filled with regret. Also there was another thing that he regretted.

----- If one of us is ever in danger, we will protect each other with our lives.

Those are the words that he swore to his best friend Eliwood during his younger days. Eliwood is also a Lycian lord, and the head of his family in Pherae. He is his closest friend like no other. As promised, they had saved each other in difficult situations many times. Eliwood is not just someone that he has a cooperative relationship with. He is a precious friend with a solid bond…

But recently, Eliwood has been suffering from illness, and is often laying in bed. Hector wanted to go to his sickbed and see his face. He wanted to cheer him up and throw away his illness.  However, it seems like his promise can no longer be fulfilled. 

No, but putting it that way would mean that Eliwood is also breaking his promise by not being able to save me from this current situation. We are in the same boat huh…

F… Farewell… my best friend…

Hector smiled weakly and quietly tried to close his eyes.

At that moment, he heard a noise from above. Several people were rushing down to this dungeon. Then, Hector saw a young man running towards him right before his eyes.

“Lord Hector! Are you okay?” 

That voice sounded a lot like the voice of a man whom Hector knew. The voice of the only man he could stand shoulder to shoulder with, the only man he can rely on in this life dedicated to battle…

(TN: Roy's voice sounds like Eliwood's)

“Roy…?”

Hector noticed it right away. Fiery red hair, eyes full of justice. The boy who looks a lot like Eliwood turns out to be Roy, the son of his best friend.

“Yes. I came to help!“

Behind Roy, there is chivalry that follows him. Reliable young warriors are gathered together. This reminded me of my past self with Eliwood and the others. The promise couldn’t be fulfilled, but instead will be inherited. I can… I can entrust everything to him, regarding Lilina’s safety, countering the threat of Bern, and Lycia’s future. 

Hector remembered a prophecy he heard from Archsage Athos during his younger days.

(TN: FE7 reference)

-----“An evil star will rise in Bern and all of Elibe will be consumed in war. But do not be afraid. Lycia will once again bring hope.”

At the end of his life, he found hope. It was like a passionate, bright, blazing hope-----

In the desert in the far west, in a hidden village where humans and dragons live together, the priestess Sophia looked up at the night sky. Fae, who was lying on her lap, perhaps tired from playing, looked up at her curiously. 

“Big sister Sophia, what are you looking at?”

Sophia saw it. She saw that within the dark shadows that began to cover Elibe, there is a small light that twinkles brightly like a star. She sensed that under this distant sky, the light is growing larger and larger, and is clothed in fire.

Sophia only stroked Fae’s hair in silence. She feels the breath of brightness that is budding in the distance, and it will not be defeated by the harsh fate that lies ahead.

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

That's the end of the translation! 😊

I really want to translate Volume 1 (Ike's story) too but I do not have the book nor do I have scans of the pages. 😭

#fire emblem #fe #fire emblem cipher #translation #roy fire emblem #fe6 #fe7 #binding blade #blazing blade #sophia fire emblem #fae fire emblem #cecilia fire emblem #klein fire emblem #lilina fire emblem #hector fire emblem #eliwood fire emblem #roy #sophia #fae #cecilia #klein #lilina #hector #eliwood #archsage athos

[the-himawari]

A3! Miyoshi Kazunari - Translation [N] Journey to the Colours

*Please read disclaimer on blog

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Misumi: The picture of the Triangle Tenjiku is complete~! Ehehe~. I had fun drawing with Tenma~!

Tenma: Basically all I did was colour it in.

Kazunari: It turned into a super unique Tenjiku though! Everyone tried drawing the Tenjiku from their imagination… And the fantasy-filled Tenjiku, dreamy Tenjiku, and triangle Tenjiku were all totes adorbs!

Yuki: Yeah, you can clearly see what everyone likes.

Kumon: Alright, last up is Kazu-san!

Muku: I can’t wait to see what kind of Tenjiku Kazu-kun draws.

Kazunari: Hehe. I’ll draw with everything I have to meet your expectations ☆ First~…

*draws*

Tenma: …A round building?

Kumon: Huh~? I feel like I might’ve seen that building before…

Kazunari: That’s not all! Next is~…

*draws*

Kumon: Ah, an elephant!

Muku: There’s a person wearing a turban riding the elephant.

Yuki: Plus he’s holding curry.

Misumi: The elephant is adorable~.

Tenma: Hold on, this looks strangely specific.

Muku: This is… it looks like there’s lots of things related to India…?

Kumon: Ahh! I see what you mean!

Yuki: Why did you draw such an Indian-inspired drawing?

Kazunari: Fufufu… because…

*door opens*

Tsuzuru: Oh, Summer troupe’s all together? What are you guys doing?

Tenma: All of us are drawing the Tenjiku from our own imaginations.

Yuki: Everyone in Spring troupe also drew their own moon residents, didn’t they?

Tsuzuru: Ah, I see. That sounds fun.

Misumi: What kinda place to do you think Tenjiku is, Tsuzuru~?

Tsuzuru: Eh? What kind of place… Tenjiku is India, isn’t it?

Kumon: EHH!? Really!?

Tsuzuru: It’s fantasy in the story this time though.

Yuki: That’s true, but…

Muku: So Kazu-kun was drawing an Indian-inspired drawing because…

Tenma: Don’t tell me—he knew that from the start?

Kazunari: Exposed ☆

Tenma: Hey, that’s not fair!

Kazunari; Ahaha. Sorry, fam~! But it’s like Tsuzurun said. The story this time is fantasy, so it’s not India straight-up. We were able to see all the Tenjiku’s everyone thought up. And above all, it was fun. So it’s all okay!

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#a3! #a3! translation #miyoshi kazunari #act! addict! actors!

[shipposttt]

Ship of The Day: Drarry

Character Names: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter

Ship Name: Drarry

Original Content: Harry Potter

Ship Info:

Drarry. It's time.

Coming from the Harry Potter franchise we see the ship involving the ‘Chosen One’ Harry Potter and ‘Death Eater’ Draco Malfoy, an enemy to lover's favourite among the community. So why do fans ship these two? 

Many started shipping the two due to the rivalry (that some interpreted as flirtation), which made the enemies to lovers fans go wild.

For instance, when the two end up in punishment together and are heading into the forbidden forest. They both displayed feelings of fear and signs of being nervous, but due to being in company with each other, they both tried to hide their fear. As they go deeper into the forest and lose track of Fang, the two try to start up multiple conversations as a distraction to the fear they feel. Some read this as a sort of 'wanting to impress the other' sort of trope, however, it could just be argued to be toxic masculinity with the boys feeling like they should not display any type of fear or emotion that could make them seem weak to other males. Any 'feminine' feelings.

Tensions also during Hagrid's class are also a key factor in their flirtation with the constant back-and-forth arguments, that go on even in front of the class, giving off the vibe of being 'an old married couple'. And the fact they did it in front of others might display a sense of urgency to show others they have a connection.

And their rivalry on the Quidditch field, with both of them on opposite teams is also a key factor and main concept for many fanfictions. The two jostles around, push each other and hurl insults at each other giving more of a feel of friendly rivalry as they both try and win. But also a hint of admiration.

The two have also saved each other, showing to others that they do in fact view them as important enough to save fuelling the 'enemies-to-lovers' debate. For example, Harry saves Draco from the room of requirement. But this almost feels right since Harry is the hero. But when Draco did it, it really itched something in Drarry shipper's brains. The scene is when Draco lies and pretends not to know who Harry is when his face is distorted, saving his life and hinting he has some feelings for the boy who lived.

But the angst is also what had fans shipping the pair. For example when Harry nearly killed Draco in the bathroom while the two were having a dual, Harry using the Sectumsempera spell (which could have killed Draco) took their rivalry to another stage. But with these intense feelings, some fans also read it as them having a love so deep it boarders into hate. Love hurts Afterall.

The books are also quite an important contribution as to why many ship the pair, such as:

"Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: It was the pale boy from Madame Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley." "Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully- and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it" (Harry dreaming of Draco) "Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice Harry had no trouble recognizing. He straightened, and came face-to-face with Draco Malfoy..."

"Now Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it...

"Whoops - my wand is a little overexcited-"

"Harry, however, had never been less interested in Quidditch; he was rapidly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy. Still checking the Marauder's Map whenever he got the chance, he sometimes made detours to wherever Malfoy happen to be..."

I'll leave it up to your imagination as to why these quotes might lead to people shipping the duo.

Type of Ship: Queer Read

The two are very much not written without the intention of the two becoming a couple, it is all just fan interpretation and fanfics made for fans who might have wanted to see Draco get a redemption arc.

Some might also ship the pair due to the lack of well-written female characters that could have ended up with Draco. The only female we actually see him written to be friends with is Pansey (who isn't really given much character development or just character in general). And the one who would best counterbalance him would be Harry Potter. Their personality, their colour palettes, their family status and their houses. Each contradicts each other in every way. However both did end up with different people and a whole family, but their son's did become best friends which makes them always in contact with eachother in one way or another.

Admin, 🦒

(i am so sorry if this is not the best post but i did not really have much info of this ship beforehand and could not find much :,))

#fandom #gay ships #lgbtq community #ships #shipping #drarry #harry potter

[paperanddice]

Leng is a strange and hostile place of dreams, found in the Overworld. It is largely inhabited by the beings known as denizens of Leng, having no proper name for themselves that they have ever shared with outsiders. These people often travel out into the world, riding great ships that can shift from the Overworld down to the planet below, visiting ports and trading in goods and slaves, offering large and flawless rubies as payment. Sometimes however they arrive in vicious raids, capturing people and goods and returning back to the Overworld where pursuit is nearly impossible. While travelling they disguise themselves as human, hiding their unnatural features below voluminous robes, heavy shawls or turbans, gloves or hand wrappings, and face coverings of all sorts. Behind these disguises they have hoofed feet, tentacle filled mouths, horns upon their brow and head, and clawed hands. Killing them is nearly impossible, as they simply follow their bond to the Overworld back home, reforming there and plotting to return to take revenge.

Hunched, raptor-like reptiles, destrachan have no eyes and instead just a large, circular mouth that dominates their narrow head. While their teeth are dangerous weapons, far more deadly is their voice, which can bellow out with enough force to pop eardrums, pulp bodies, and even shatter metal if they get the right harmonic frequencies. Dangerous, pack hunting inhabitants of the Underworld, they stalk narrow tunnels in groups and ambush prey in coordinated assaults. Their communication is in registers far above the hearing range of most other creatures, letting them coordinate their attacks without being overheard, and some even learn words or whole phrases in humanoid languages, though they're unable to speak them. Rather, most destrachan seem to use what they've learned to better hunt.

Inspired by the Pathfinder 1e Bestiary 2. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Denizen of Leng  4th level troop [humanoid]  Initiative: +10 Numbing Bite +9 vs. AC - 12 damage. Natural Even Hit: The target is also hampered until the end of its next turn. Natural 18 or 20: The target is hampered (save ends). Planar Regeneration 5: While its not in its home in the Overworld, the denizen of Leng’s unnatural flesh heals 5 hit points at the start of its turn. It can regenerate 5 times per battle. If it heals to its maximum hit points, then that use of regeneration doesn’t count against the five-use limit. If a denizen of Leng drops to 0 hit points while it still has uses of regeneration left, it’s body dissolves into nothingness, leaving behind just its equipment, and reforms soon in the Overworld. It can only be killed permanently if slain without any uses of regeneration left. Unusual Anatomy: Whenever the denizen of Leng is hit with a critical hit, it can roll a saving throw; on a success, it treats the crit as a normal hit. AC 19 PD 16 MD 17 HP 56

Destrachan  Large 4th level caster [beast]  Initiative: +7 Bite and Claws +8 vs. AC (2 attacks) - 10 damage. R: Sonic Pulse +9 vs. PD (one nearby enemy) - 25 thunder damage. Natural Even Hit: The destrachan recharges destructive soundwave. Miss: 10 thunder damage. C: Destructive Soundwave +9 vs. PD (1d3+1 nearby enemies) - 10 thunder damage. Natural Even Hit: The target is also weakened (easy save ends, 6+). Natural Odd Hit: One item the target is wearing or carrying is destroyed unless the target succeeds on a hard save (16+). If the item is a magic weapon, the target gains a +10 bonus to the save. Limited Use: 1/battle. Resist Thunder 16+. AC 20 PD 14 MD 17 HP 114

#13th age #homebrew #my homebrew #monster #NPC #beast #humanoid #13th age level 4 #long post