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clairecrive · 3 years

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“Burn” - Bane x reader [Requested]

A/N: this is for this anon. Thanks again for requesting! I missed writing for Bane.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2.5K

Taglist: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @sopxhiea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @fuseburner, @kind-wolf, @innerpaperexpertcloud (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

The vastity of the night sky had always helped y/n ease her worries. Surely, whatever was bothering her couldn’t be as big and impossible to solve as she was making it out to be. Because, would you look at that? The universe is so big and we’re so small, so insignificant. and that applied to her problems too.

At least that was what she always told herself whenever she’d feel lost and hopeless. Thinking this way helped her put things into perspective. And sure, not everything was as easily solved but, even in that case, it helped a bit.

And so here they were, she and Bane were laying down staring up at the starry sky. Sometimes, they would spend it in silence, just enjoying the warmth and comfort the other’s body would bring. Others, like this one, they would easily fall into conversations about everything and nothing.

“Was there someone special in your life? Someone you wish to get back to?”

“You mean, romantically?”

He nodded.

“No. Single for life.” She did a peace sign to lighten up her embarrassment but Bane was curious and did not pay it any mind.

“You mean to tell me that you’ve never given your heart to anyone?”

“Well, if you put it that way I have to change my answer to yes. Being in a relationship with someone and giving someone your heart are two wholly different things.”

“Let me rephrase then. Have you ever been in love?”

She really thought about the answer, her mind going back to any romantic involvement she might have had during her life. Even if she scouted her memories, she found that it wasn’t a yes or no question.

“I guess,” not only was the word she chose explicative of her indecision but the tentative tone of her voice left no doubts as to where she was standing. But Bane was confused, to say the least.

“I’ve always been under the impression that love was one of those things where absolute certainty was involved when it came to its presence or absence.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I have had mostly one-sided crushes, you know?” she started but Bane could see the faraway look in her eyes and knew that she had more to tell but was lacking the right words. So he waited.

“I said ‘I guess’ because I don’t really know what love is. I mean, everyone has a different take on it depending on their experiences but I don’t think I’ve ever felt it,” she paused turning to meet his eyes, “once there was a guy I strongly had feelings for. Even that was one-sided though and it took me a long time to recover from that because he was my best friend at the time. Looking back to it, I guess it was love or the closest thing to it that I’ve ever felt for someone. It hasn’t happened again though so I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“Maybe it wasn’t love, just deep infatuation. Or maybe I just confused my love for him as a friend for something more. I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out when I fall in love with someone else. “ She concluded and refrained from correcting that when with if. she couldn’t see herself being as lucky as to have someone that cared about her and that loved her in the future. But Bane didn’t need to know that.

Turns out that those unspoken words had become a sort of oracle, ‘cause here they were now, years after they had that conversation. Just when she thought that she had found that one person to share her life with, to give her heart to, life quickly come into play letting her know that that wasn’t the case.

Because the man that had saved her from a destiny worse than death, who had given her hope and made her trust him to the point where she had felt safe enough to open up to him and allow him close to her heart, had now shattered whatever remained of it.

"So let me get this straight, first you save my life than you decide to keep me with you so you basically kidnap me, get me to fall in love with you, put me through an insanely difficult training so that I could stay with you but it was all done in vain because now you’re sending me away?"

"I'm not sending you away but you cannot stay here anymore. I’m doing this for you."

"And why is that? What changed?" and when Bane stayed silent she added, "what happened to 'I want you always' ?"

"I did not lie to you." His words were in striking contrast to the ones he had said before but y/n had learned to read him and could tell that this time he was not lying. But then the question naturally arises, what's really going on?

Nothing out of order had happened in the last few days. Bane and she had been the same as always, even his work had proceeded as usual. So what was it? What was she not thinking about? What was she not seeing?

Letting her mind go back through the last day to fat check that nothing happened, she went through their actions. Light breakfast together followed by a not so light tête à tête then they trained together until he had to deal with something for his work and she had occupied herself otherwise. She had called him to see when she could get dinner started and he said that he had a meeting with Talia first but had come right after. They had dinner and while they consumed their healthy and perfectly balanced meal she shared with him whatever came to her mind while he ate in silence. See, nothing out of order.

Wait a minute...

He went to meet Talia.

"It's her, isn't it?" Suddenly, everything was clear. She knew what had happened, what had changed. And she sneered at the pull Talia had on him. Suddenly, she understood but at the same time, the last year lost its meaning.

"I just wish I realized earlier that you didn't care about me as much as you said you did," turning she went to her cabinet to get her stuff, "I wouldn't have put myself through so much otherwise."

Nodding, she knew what she had to do. She had to leave. There was no reason to stay. Resolute and defeated she put everything her eyes fell on that was hers in a little bag. Clothes, lingerie, cosmetics, books. But when her eyes landed on the little box where she kept everything connected to him, her heart broke further and her anger was fueled.

In there, there was every present Bane ever gave her. Every little thing that made her think of him in some way. The letters he wrote her whenever spoken words failed him. She knew that going through its content would equal to a chronology of their relationship. If it was possible her heart broke even more. Everything she did to stay with him, everything he did to keep her now was all vain. She gave up so much for him, for a man. Her former self would be ashamed of her and knew that her heartbreak was contributing to making her feel something akin to that.

"Here," she said walking where he was standing, "take this. I don't want it anymore," and she threw it at his feet. The only acknowledgement on his part was a tilt of his head but it wasn't needed. He knew what it was and what she kept inside of it. He felt a pang in his heart but kept his face void of any emotion.

"I'll want you always," she said mocking his voice, still stuffing stuff in her bag and chuckled with mirth, "what a load of bullshit."

"Actually," stilling for a second, with a shirt cramped in her fist she faced him, "I am the biggest clown between us because I believed you." retrying her stuffing, shaking her head she added in a whisper, "I should have known better," but Bane heard.

As soon as he decided on this course of action, he had also prepared for her reaction. He knew her well and so far she hadn't done anything that he hadn't expected. And while he had been ready, he couldn't help but feel hurt by her words. He knew how she was looking at this situation, knew that his words had led her to believe it to be so. At the same time, a little part of him wished for her to oppose to his words, to see right through them and see that he was lying. That he had been honest when he had told her those things, he had opened up to her and meant everything. But knew that she was too lost to rage and hurt to think clearly. And it was also the reason why she was acting up and had thrown the box on the floor. He knew that she deeply cared about it and what it meant to her. He almost thought of offering some kind of comfort, to give her some hint about what was really going on. But knew that it would be unfair to her. After all, he was doing for the sake of her safety.

“You know,” her voice brought him back and his eyes were immediately drawn to her, “isn’t it funny how you man always pride yourselves to be strong and all that bullshit when even someone like you, who’s the epitome of masculinity and strength, at the end is totally subjected to a woman?”

They would always have this kind of conversation. Bane, being a leader of a huge army, had the tendency to be bossy. Even in situations when it wasn’t needed. It was just who he was and he felt the need to remind her of his alfa status an unnecessary lot of times. While she could enjoy this inclination of his when they were in bed, she definitely couldn’t stand it in their everyday life. And now, it made her feel stupid that she had to put with it and learn how to deal with it but when it came to Talia, he just did whatever she told him to. Also, this changed her consideration of him. What a clown. She had tried to warn him about his rather toxic relationship with Talia but he’d always get angry and dismiss the conversation either by leaving or shouting at her. She could remember their last fight about it like it was yesterday. It was also the first time that she had ever doubted her relationship with him. The first time that she had thought that maybe she had made a mistake by staying with him, by falling in love with him. Maybe she should have left as soon as she had rescued her. It wasn’t for the motive of their fight, neither her jealousy and worry about his relationship with Talia, but it had all to do with what he shouted her in rage that made her blood run cold and her heart shatter. For it was said that angry and drunk people were the more honest ones. And since that moment she couldn’t help but wonder if he really thought what he said to her or if it was just an impulse propelled by anger as he had explained.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you.”

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he decided to twist the knife further.

“I told you not to fall in love with me.”

As if one could choose who they fell for, she remembers thinking.

Those words still haunted her to this day. It happened a while ago and Bane had made it up to her, mostly. But it was in situations like this that they would come back and mock her for even forgiving him and thinking that he loved her as she loved him. To think that even a small part of him thought that it was best that he had left her to suffer in the hands of a sex abuser until he would have eventually tired of her and killed made her sick. How could anyone say something like that to another human being? One they presumedly loved? She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Bane had then explained that by that he didn’t mean leaving her with her captor but simply bring her with him and keeping her with him. Despite the fact that his explanation made sense, y/n still didn’t think it made things better.

And as for his second statement, it went mostly unmentioned.

Sure, that had been something he had told her in the beginning. It was after her training required them to spend most of their days together since he wanted to attend to it personally. Y/n knew that being in the military and with his past, it wasn’t easy for Bane to show emotions let alone let someone close enough to him to allow himself to love them. She understood that. She had a few things she was dealing with that made it difficult for her to entertain the idea of something more between them.

But that was almost a year ago. So much had happened in their life and between them that even though the words were not spoken aloud, she felt the shift in both their behaviours when it came to them. Hell, they even started dating.

Not that any of them labelled it that way. But that was beside the point.

They slept together, they ate together every meal, they lived together. If there was a band on both their left ring fingers and it was a more conventional setting, people would assume they were married.

While y/n didn’t like thinking about what they had in that way, she surely considered the commitment they had made to each other equivalent to a marriage.

She hadn’t considered Talia though.

Or at least, she had hoped that if she ever would try and come between them, Bane would stand up for her.

Turns out that she really was foolish.

“Whatever, I guess it’s not my problem anymore.” Giving him her back again, she closed the almost full bag and went to put on some shoes and coat.

“I don’t have any use for it, you should take it with you.”

“Neither have I. Burn it, see if I care.”

And with that, y/n turned around and walked out of their shared apartment at last.

It hurt to say the words, it hurt that things had ended to abruptly, it hurt that even after all this time he didn’t care about her, it hurt like hell but y/n was resolute in leaving all of this behind her. Yes, it wasn’t going to be easy and maybe it would be like leaving a hot fire trail behind her but at one point the fire would burn out, wouldn’t t?

It may take a while but she would be okay,

#bane #bane dcu #bane imagine #bane x reader #bane imagines #bane one shot #bane angst #like super angst #mention of Talia #bane x oc #tom hardy bane #TDKR #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagines

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crow-in-a-teapot · 3 years

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tower of nero spoilers

i have just finished the tower of nero. and before i go searching for other people’s thoughts and art and more of the characters i love so much, i want to write down some of my own thoughts because i know as soon as i delve into that ‘ton spoilers’ hashtag there are going to be complaints and criticisms and so much that i don’t want to hear, or essays that’ll make me upset, or things that’ll change my perception on the book (because on this website people really love to hate the trials of apollo).

i want to start with: i loved it. it didn’t feel earth-shattering or huge and momentous like some of my favourite riordanverse books (house of hades, the blood of olympus, the last olympian and maybe some of the magnus chase books take those pedestals for me) but it was satisfying. and i think it was satisfying because it in no way felt like an ending. whether because eventually rick will write that will-and-nico-go-through-tartarus-and-save-bob novella, or because we (or at least i) will continue writing and imagining and creating for this world i don’t know. he didn’t wrap up the story in a perfect little bow like ‘nineteen years later’, he simply put it on pause. gave us a glimpse of where every character was at at the end.

the only thing that makes me so angry and upset is that i did manage to get some spoilers for moments that i know would have been so good to experience for the first time if i hadn’t been spoiled for them. the moment where rachel mentions penguins in a mansion near her house, nico getting mental health advice from mr d, the fact that will and nico were going to be in the book for so much of the story, but the big thing was literally spoiled for me two days ago, it was the reason i sat down to read it as fast as possible because i was terrified of getting more spoiled and not being able to experience the moments for myself, was that piper had a girlfriend. i know that reading that for the first time would have been so cool and surprising, and the fact that when it came up for a moment in the last couple pages all i felt was disappointment because it was spoiled for me and because it was now tinged with whatever that person was saying about her having a girlfriend.

but i still had some warm fuzzy moments, the two parts where apollo thinks he’s going to die but nico comes up behind him - so good. impeccable.

Leader Guy spat. ‘Now, I kill you.’

He raised his sword... and froze. His face turned pale. His skin began to shrivel. His beard fell out whisker by whisker like dead pine needles. Finally, his skin crumbled away, along with his clothes and flesh, until Leader Guy was nothing but a bleached-white skeleton, holding a sword in his bony hands.

Standing behind him, his hand on the skeleton’s shoulder, was Nico di Angelo.

and

Nero raised his hand, ready to give the kill command, when behind me a mighty BOOM! shook the chamber. Half our enemies were thrown off their feet. Cracks sprouted in the windowsand the marble columns. Ceiling tiles broke, raining dust like split bags of flour.

I turned to see the impenetrable blast doors lying twisted and broken, a strangely emaciated red bull standing in the breach. Behind it stood Nico di Angelo.

gods. poetic brilliance. i can’t believe i’m still a nico di angelo stannie in the year 2021. in five years i have not changed (ever since the tv show announcement last summer i have managed to morph into myself from 2017)

from here i’m not sure where to go next i kind of want to go through everything, except it’ll be more difficult than my tyrant’s tomb reaction because i wasn’t reading on a kindle and thus can’t just do funny little reactions to screenshots of quotes, so i’ll just skim through the book page by page and see what i can comment on (i’m not planning on doing analysis today, no thank you, just enjoying the end of my childhood and trying to squeeze as much out of it as possible)

i have an emotional attachment to mr. snake from the very first chapter, and am very upset that he’ll never get off on his baltimore stop and get to see his wife, lu had no reason to shoot and kill him like that.

that brings me to lu, i liked her, it was interesting to see how rick kind of brought in not only the overarching theme of abuse, but also people who let the abuse happen, i have more i could say on this i’m too lazy to right now, and i promised no analysis - or the fact that Lu had conspired to make the show non-lethal to spare Meg’s feelings rather than - oh, I don’t know - refusing to do Nero’s dirty work in the first place and getting Meg out of that house of horrors.

And are you any better? taunted a small voice in my brain. How many times have you stood up to Zeus?

Okay, small voice. Fair point. Tyrants are not easy to opppose or walk away from, especially when you depend on them for everything.

the parallels to meg and lester heading to percy’s apartment, and then to camp half blood to the hidden oracle was so cool to read, every callback to the hidden oracle just there to remind us readers exactly how far apollo has come and how he’s changed; the entire chapter with sally, paul and estelle just felt sickly sweet, it just didn’t seem real how wholesome and good that family is, like i get why apollo broke down and just sobbed in that shower.

also rick really saying acab again in toa, i thought he was done after that elf cop chapter in magnus chase (the magnus chase series is a masterpiece) but apparently not, with A ‘good cop’ is still a cop... still a part of the mind game.

the grey sisters, i forgot about them completely but this threw me back into was it the sea of monsters when annabeth summoned them? i’m not sure, it could have been the lightning thief either, they really remind me of the disney hercules movie. the whole ganymede paragraph was gold, i love gods being canonically confirmed lgbt in the riordanverse. i also love the whole eye-tossing part -

‘He will crush our eye,’ Anger cried, ‘if we don’t recite our verses!’

‘I will not!’

‘We will all die!’ Wasp said. ‘He is crazy!’

‘I AM NOT!’

‘Fine, you win!’ Tempest howled.

also, the explanation for why dionysus chooses to look the way he does was perfect, because it was something i often wondered about and wasn’t expecting to get an explanation for, and i imagine the whole mythological dionysus to look like.. well like a more feminine apollo i guess, beautiful in a gender non-comforming way.

Other Olympians could never comprehend why Dionysus chose this form when he could look like anything he wanted. In ancient times, he’d been famous for his youthful beauty that defied gender.

...

In retaliation, Dionysus had decided to look and act as ungodly as possible. He was like a child refusing to tuck in his shirt, comb his hair or brush his teeth, just to show his parents how little he cared.

every scene with nico at camp just BREAKS ME, i would throw in screenshots of every damn quote but unfortunately, as said above, cannot and would rather not type every one; we’ll start with, obviously apollo confirming to him that jason is dead.

He didn’t look angry exactly. He looked as if he’d been hit in the gut not just once but so many times over the course of so many years that he was beginning to lose perspective on what it meant to be in pain. He swayed on his feet. He blinked. Then he flinched, jerking his hands away from Meg’s as if he’d just remembered his own touch was poison.

ugh then will talking about how nico’s doing, confirming that he’s suffering with ptsd, mr d giving him advice, helping him sort though what voices in his head are real and which ones aren’t, then the paragraph that just recounts every horrific thing poor nico has been through, how will has to reassure him that he’s okay and ‘with friends’ when he wakes up after shadow travel

will’s kindness to apollo, buying him clothes, and apollo finding seymour the leopard’s head in his bed, put there by mr d aaaa AAAA A A A A A THE ORDINARY, EVERYDAY CAMP HALF BLOOD THINGS..

i could go on for years and years about how much i appreciate rachel having a big role in this book, and the visit to her apartment, everything, her art, the fact that she got what she wanted, she’s going to PARIS to study ART, she isn’t forced to be someone she’s not by her dad, and gets to be a big part of a demigod mission and not stand on the sidelines for once.

i love that her landscapes are still visions, that she still paints the quests demigods go on - the burning maze, jason’s funeral pyre, caligula’s ships; and how nico ~appreciates art~

‘And, hey, di Angelo -’ she pushed him playfully away from the canvas he’d been ogling - ‘don’t brush against the art! I don’t care about the paintings, but if you get any colour on you, you’ll ruin that whole black-and-white aesthetic you’ve got going.’

i. love. rachel.

WILL GLOWS!! THE HEADCANONS FROM LIKE FIVE YEARS AGO THAT YOU’D SEE FLOATING AROUND ABOUT HIM MANIPULATING LIGHT!! CONFIRMED!! CANON!! AMAZING

I AM OBSESSED WITH THE TROGS, I LOVE THEM, THEY ARE GREAT, not gonna lie, i was expecting something more dramatic and spooky with how worried will was and how dionysus was going.. visiting the cavern-runners isn’t ♫ good for your mental health ♫ but the little hat frog gremlins were a good addition. i like them very much and their funky little soup shenanigans. quoting the ghost king himself: trogs good. nice hats. (IM SORRY I KEEP MENTIONING HIM BUT I JUST) also how apollo starts wishing for breadsticks a s ajoke and theY STRAIGHT UP HAVE BREADSTICKS? HUH? WHERE DID THEY GET THE BREADSTICKS FROM??

yeah, i’m also still very much upset by every mention of jason grace, it’s funny how ever since his death in the burning maze i have grown to love him more and more and that’s not fun for me, for that boy to become one of my main comfort character’s and have his death and sacrifice and nobility mentioned every few chapters. i’m pretty sure i cried when he appeared to talk in apollo’s dreams, and this time the tears weren’t from the effort of keeping my eyes open and working for hours straight reading this book (i remember staying up until 2am to finish the sequel to beautiful, broken things, it was very much worth it)

‘All right, Jason. We miss you, though.’

ALSO. THE FACT THAT THIS KID. THIS CHILD. HAD TO THINK ‘BUT IF A HERO ISN’T READY TO LOSE EVERYTHING FOR A GREATER CAUSE, IS THAT PERSON REALLY A HERO?’ A KID ISN’T SUPPOSED TO THINK ABOUT THAT AND BE READY TO SACRIFICE THEMSELVES FOR THE GREATER GOOD,, i,, ugh,, he’s supposed to be finishing school and designing temples not being the perfect hero and soldier,, spain without the s,,

as @couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name said: ‘thinking about how ghost! Jason didn’t seem to understand why Apollo was so upset about his death because he’s been raised to believe a hero’s sacrifice is noble and his life doesn’t matter in the grand scheme and also if he doesn’t understand why the person who watched him get horrifically killed is so torn up over his death he probably doesn’t even realize his other friends are grieving him..’

IM SO UPSET THE ARROW OF DODONA IS DEAD D: IT WAS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS ALL THE FUNNIEST MOMENTS WERE BECAUSE OF THAT ARROW AND IT'S DEATH WAS SO SAD WTH LIKE WE FIND OUT HOW USELESS THE ARROW FELT AND HOW THE GROVE OF DODONA ALL THOUGHT IT WOULD BE CRAP AND WOULD FAIL APOLLO AND THEN ONCE WE FEEL BAD FOR IT, IT DIES??

the entire python battle was pretty grim, there is a part of me that's like because this is the last book series i would have loved say the magnus chase and kane chronicles gang in a giant battle with everyone like the battle of manhattan but even more dramatic, but even so, i did appreciate that python battle and the whole almost-falling-into-the-depths-of-tartarus thing.

him talking to artemis was cool, but JESUS: 'I turned and strode out of my room, trying to recall how the god Apollo walked.' like that HURTS. it was such a huge culture shock for apollo to go throught this huge character arc and be so human and understand the pain of others, to be around gods again who are so.. apathetic. also, zeus. 'Interesting how he put that: I had done him proud. I had been useful in making him look good. My heart did not melt. I did not feel that this was a warm-and-fuzzy reconciliation with my father. Let's be honest: some fathers don't deserve that. Some aren't capable of it.'

OKAY OKAY SO THE END?? CHIRON TALKING TO A CAT (BAST) AND A SEVERED HEAD (MIMIR) ABOUT SHARED PROBLEMS WITHIN THE PANTHEONS!! WILL AND NICO RECEIVING A PROPHECY FROM RACHEL TO GO TO TARTARUS AND SAVE BOB!! THE HUNTERS OF ARTEMIS, INCLUDING THALIA AND REYNA BEING BEST FRIENDS (qpr.. qpr..) HUNTING THE TEUMESSIAN FOX!! PERCY, ANNABETH AND GROVER, THE ORIGINAL TRIO, GOING ON A CHAOTIC ROAD TRIP TOGETHER!! - SO MANY STAND-ALONE SET -UPS PFSJSJSJ

okay quick word on the reunions at the end: funny little elephant visitation program with livia and hannibal. love that for them. calypso and leo's relationship seems rocky and complicated, but that's to be expected, i think even if they do get properly back together again it might not last long, because it does pretty much feel like a teenage relationship where the two aren't very compatible, but we'll see. hazel and frank are so funny with their gold plated necklaces. lavinia - tap-dance icon. almost cried at the mention of jason's temple-extension plan again. percy not being sure about what he wants to do in college is accurate and i like that that's left to be up-for-interpretation (rick does THE MOST for the fanfic writers pfsjsj). i am OBSESSED with aeithales, like i hate deserts so the burning maze setting is not my favourite but GOD that HOUSE, the vibes are off-the-charts. i'd love a house made of living trees that's also a greenhouse filled with dryads. meg gets a unicorn. that is so great.

i kind of wish the book hadn't ended with 'Call on me. I will be there for you.' because every time I imagine the friends theme song and i don't think that's the vibe he was going for, BUT i do love him talking to meg, that was genuinely emotional - 'You'll come back?' she asked. 'Always,' I promised. 'The sun always comes back.' ; i really wish it had ended with that, but i guess apollo does tend to break fourth walls and talk to the readers, like a lot of the protagonists of riordanverse books.

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arcgeminga · 3 years

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What is the mun's opinion of all the gold saints from TLC?

♚— Oh boi. This is gonna be a mouthful. I know you said "all" , but I can't do saints like Avenir and Sage since I haven't read Shion and the Old Twins' gaiden in English. And I'm not about to act like I know Spanish enough to write a review on those saints.

♚ Aries Shion - Should've been the Hades Arc Shion. Like damn, I really like Shion when he's an angry sheep!! I mean, he yeets the five bronzies in Hades Arc like "Fuck dem kids!".

I really like Specter/Pope Shion. But TLC Shion I do not hate. In fact, I can understand how and why he becomes Pope. I really like TLC Aries Shion! I just wished he was more angry sheep, but TLC Shion is not bad. I especially loved his Gaiden, at least the part where Avenir was shown. I feel like they should have explained more on his thoughts on becoming pope or exploring him having some sort of survivor's guilt but hey. I don't dislike him!

♚ Taurus Aldebaran/Hasgard/Rasgado - Honestly, the only thing I can say about Hasgard is that... I don't hate him. I love his English Voice actor (because I'm a really big fan of Jamieson Price since Tales of Vesperia), but for Hasgard himself... I don't really have an opinion or thought on. His teenage years with Sisyphus and Aspros seemed fun, and I'm kinda... hm... sad that their relationship mellowed out? Or at least, we didn't get his and Sisyphus' opinions or reactions to Aspros' death.

♚ Gemini Defteros & Aspros - OH BOY WHERE DO I START!? ----- Gemini Aspros - I understand why Aspros was the way he was towards everyone and his brother. It's honestly not his fault. I am happy that he doesn't have a "split personality" at all throughout TLC, even though that is something I would never diss Saga for (even if it wasn't really a split personality). He was simply manipulated into behaving cruelly because someone showed him something that he was scared of, and that was akin to his brother not needing him. His Gaiden harks back to that too, during that 'flashback' when he told Defteros that he was going to become pope, Defteros donned the gold cloth and said 'yeah so we can be equals and I won't need you' (paraphrasing). If Aspros is just going to be used and tossed away, might as well harden his own heart before then. And it doesn't help that he saw himself as a Specter and his brother as a Gold Saint when he went to the oracles.

I feel for Aspros because, in the end, he had no idea that he had been manipulated hard enough that his goodest boy personality changed. And honestly, I can relate to that. I've had my personality take a deep dive some years ago after I had a panic attack. So I don't fault him for his actions. He was just trying to make the best with what he knew, understood, and could do, even if that meant doing terrible things. After all, it is his mindset that the weakest people are the ones that don't do anything. ----- Gemini Defteros - I also can't fault him for anything. He was dependent on his brother, and there was no way he could understand what was going on in Aspros' tortured mind since Aspros never spoke about his feelings. But I believe that, contrary to what Aspros thinks, Defteros would have been very dependent on him even after Aspros became pope. After all, he didn't have friends, lacked social skills, and couldn't find it in himself to trust anyone aside from his older brother because of how Sanctuary treated him as they were growing up, so he would have been stuck in like a childish headspace of needing a protector and provider, which was Aspros. You can tell that much because he was asking Asmita what should he do when he was possessed by the DEF.

When Aspros died (or rather, when Defteros killed him [which seriously broke his heart]), it forced Defteros to grow up and look after himself. This isn't a terrible thing--but it was a terrible and such a trauma-inducing way to go about it. But how he died--or rather, the fact that he wanted to sacrifice himself to save his brother... honestly it still makes me cry a lot. You can see in his eyes that he loved his brother even after the very end, and wanted him back. And just IMAGINE how many times Defteros' eyes have shown nothing but the purest love for Aspros, and how Aspros had been manipulated to see those eyes as nothing more than hate. ----- Gemini twins in general - If it wasn't obvious already, I love these two so much. I hate--I ABSOLUTELY HATE--that their brotherhood was RUINED, because these two are so... important to me. I see myself and my sister in the Gemini Twins so much. To the point where it's so personal to me. Even after being manipulated and losing his brother, Aspros still held his little brother very close to his heart and lamented and regretted the fact that he will never get the chance to be the brother he should be. And Defteros... I can't explain why his loyalty and patience for Aspros affect me so much, but it does. It does in a way where it hits me more than just an emotional way. I guess that's because I see my sister in Defteros much more than I should.

I love the twins in such a profound way where I cannot find the right words for it. They obviously still love each other so much, even after all is said and done, and I think that is so important. Having that kind of unconditional love for your sibling is the most important thing in my opinion.

God, look at me, I'm crying over the Gemini twins again for like the 100th time oiwhfowef

♚ Cancer Manigoldo - So, Manigoldo... Honestly, I love him, too. But in a different way. When I see Manigoldo, I remember the private threads that a friend and I used to do on Skype, and I am frankly very enamored with him. But also because of that, I do not see him the same way as everyone else too. Besides, he makes up the second half of my OTP, so ofc I'm going to see him differently. Especially since I single ship!

♚ Leo Regulus - He's another one that I like a lot! Not only because he's adorable, but I also see him in a different way because I'm a single shipper, and I will never say aloud who I ship Regulus with. I won't say that he's a part of a different OTP (since I only have one OTP in all of Saint Seiya) but I do like Regulus a lot because of a friend's interpretation of him in Private threads a very long time ago.

Yeah, he might be kinda OP/Gary Sue, but he's not too hateful in my opinion. I wouldn't say he's the best TLC Saint, since my heart is stolen by the twins, but he's a very amiable character when interacting with the characters of the TLC verse, and I wish I can squish his cheeks one day!! He's so adorable! I will say though that he is impressive to replicate a Big Bang(?) by himself... I don't remember if it's the thing that really killed him, but... huh. To be that unafraid of death, I wouldn't be surprised if he has some sort of mental/personality disorder that made him... like that? Something undiagnosed? Hm... thoughts, thoughts.

♚ Virgo Asmita - Asmita is one of the gold saints that, I honestly, don't know about. It's different from how I feel about Hasgard. For Hasgard, I don't have an opinion for, but for Asmita, I just don't know. I love how Teshirogi drew his hands. Like damn, bruh, can we switch hands? We're both Virgo, and I think we can make it work out... /kicked

♚ Libra Dohko - LOL DOHKOOOO!! My sister's favorite. I feel like he's super impulsive in TLC. I haven't read his gaiden at all, so I can't say much about that, but I do like him! Like with Shion though, I feel like he should have had some sort of heavy Survivor's guilt in the end. I'm also insanely curious about what ability Defteros zonked on him to erase the memory of Athena's blood and cloth. I don't know if it's shown in Dohko's gaiden, but I would love to see how TLC Dohko came across and raised Shiryu.

♚ Scorpio Kardia - As a character, I adore him. He's charming, spontaneous, and, like Aspros, wants to live his life to the fullest. And his fullest means just having fun before his short life is ended. Krest might have made him practically immortal, but he's still suffering. However, Kardia also holds a lot of bad memories for me from days before, and his entire character serves as a painful, but a graceful reminder of who I was back then.

♚ Sagittarius Sisyphus - Honestly, I don't ever think he was qualified to be a candidate for the papal throne. He's so melodramatic. Yeah, he might treat everyone with kindness and all, but I feel like he doesn't have the knowledge part down. Let alone, he's a brawn brain! Bruh!! Shooting an arrow at "hades" is always a bad idea!! What made you-?!

Lmfao, if possible, I feel like he and Aspros should have dual-pope'd Sanctuary. One has the brains, but lacks compassion while the other has the compassion but is "shoot first, ask questions and think about that later".

♚ Capricorn El Cid - I... should love El Cid, but my mind goes blank a lot around him. He's impressive, I give you that, but I don't think I have an opinion on him. And I've read his gaiden in Spanish a LONG time ago, so I'm not going to pretend that I know him enough to talk about him.

♚ Aquarius Degel - hm... I think he's cute. Especially in his gaiden, he's really cute.

♚ Pieces Agatha -

#anoymous #OutofGeminga #As you can tell I word vomited about the gemini twins #also that last one is intentional. You will not get anything more or less.

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oldreignofhades · 3 years

Photo

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: Aylin Nadia Karga

Nickname(s): Lin, Karga, Hades

Age: twenty-eight

Date of Birth: April 13th 1993

Hometown: Antalya, Turkey

Current Location: depends on the mission, but mostly Cairo, Egypt

Nationality: Turkish

Gender: cis woman

Pronouns: she/her

Orientation: romantic and sexual biromantic/bisexual

Religion: atheist

Political Affiliation: none

Occupation: Oracle for Four Hundred

Living Arrangements: various apartments for example in Cairo, Sao Paolo, Madeira, Sylt, Paris, London

Language(s) Spoken: French, Turkish, German, English, Spanish, (Egyptian) Arabic

Accent: a mix of Egyptian Arabic and Turkish

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Face Claim: Hande Ercel

Hair Colour: Brunette

Eye Colour: Dark Brown

Height: 1,75 m

Weight: 64 kg

Build: fit

Clothing Style: Elegant, but at work mostly black, somewhat comfortable so it allows her to be as flexible as possible.

Usual Expression: stoic, maybe a slight smirk, in public more soft but still with an edge so people don’t talk to her but neither suspect or of anything (less intimidating)

HEALTH

Physical Ailments: various scars (gunshot wound in her leg, cuts and other wounds on her side and arm), two numb fingers on her left hand

Allergies: Lactose

Sleeping Habits: survives on however sleep she can get, but usually she sleeps around 6 hours, sleeps lightly, wakes up often

Eating Habits: eats healthy and tries to not eat a lot, tho she has a problem with eating junk food if she’s in another town but Cairo

Exercise Habits: exercises a lot due to the job, remains fit, jogs almost every day

Emotional Stability: a solid 6, she’s been broken before, never again (at least she tries to think that way)

Sociability: introverted yet social. It’s a weird mix of both. Aylin won’t shy away from company, though she prefers to be alone.

Body Temperature: hot-natured

Addictions: the game

Drug Use: none

Alcohol Use: frequently

PERSONALITY

Label: the femme fatale

Positive Traits: adaptable, brave, passionate, decisive, tough

Negative Traits: aggressive, two-faced, hedonistic, dishonest, Machiavellian, cruel

Goals/Desires: continue her father’s legacy, protect her son

Fears: to lose her son, to lose her position and everything she has worked for

FAVORITES

Weather: sunny, not too hot, clear skies, slight breeze

Colour: green-blue, deep red, black

Music: classical music, Turkish rap, generally a bit of everything

Movies: at the moment she quite enjoys watching kids movies with her son. It’s a lovely alternative to the stuff she sees in real life.

Sport: hunting (I guess, not animals tho)

Beverage: Wine, chai, Glühwein, Coca Cola, orange juice

Food: Burger, Köfte, Döner kebab, apple pie

Animal: lions, hawks, snakes, dogs

FAMILY

Father: Orhan Karga, deceased, former army general & Oracle for four hundred before his death

Mother: Meryem Karga, 59 years old, former model and fashion designer

Sibling(s): Volkan Karga, 25 years old, younger brother -- student

Children: Serkan Karga, 4 years old, son (biological father open as a spot)

Pet(s): none

Family’s Financial Status: rather wealthy, her father made sure to keep his family financially independent even after his death

EXTRA

Zodiac Sign: Aries - Like their fellow fire signs, Leo and Sagittarius, Aries is a passionate, motivated, and confident leader who builds community with their cheerful disposition and relentless determination. Uncomplicated and direct in their approach, they often get frustrated by exhaustive details and unnecessary nuances.

MBTI: ISTP - ISTPs are attentive to details and responsive to the demands of the world around them. Because of their astute sense of their environment, they are good at moving quickly and responding to emergencies. ISTPs are reserved, but not withdrawn: the ISTP enjoys taking action, and approaches the world with a keen appreciation for the physical and sensory experiences it has to offer.

Enneagram: Type Eight - Protectors believe you must be strong and powerful to assure protection and regard in a tough world. Consequently, Protectors seek justice and are direct, strong and action-oriented; they also can be overly impactful, excessive and impulsive.

Temperament: Melancholic individuals tend to be analytical and detail-oriented, and they are deep thinkers and feelers. They are introverted and try to avoid being singled out in a crowd. A melancholic personality leads to self-reliant individuals who are thoughtful, reserved, and often anxious. They often strive for perfection within themselves and their surroundings, which leads to tidy and detail-oriented behavior.

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Moral Alignment: Neutral Evil

Primary Vice: Wrath

Primary Virtue: Charity

Element: fire

BIO (short, longer version will follow)

death tw, pregnancy tw

Once a loved child, Aylin grew up in a world filled with wonders. Always protected and surrounded by a great number of bodyguards, she could barely walk a meter without being watched. It didn’t take too long for her to accept her circumstances, especially considering her father’s absence most of the time. As oracle for four hundred he was tasked with getting rid of some of the world’s worst criminals which put a target on his daugher’s back. Unaware of the possible threat, Aylin attended some of the best schools and went on to see her father every now and then. His absence turned her almost bitter and resentful of him, which would change Aylin forever. The loving, laughter loving girl turned into a cold, spiteful monster with little regard for the emotion of others after her own hadn’t been acknowledged properly. Her father, noticing the sudden change in her, decided to train Aylin for a possibility to eventually take over his spot within four hundred. Their training sessions included light sparring, throwing daggers and cardio. Once started, once tasted, Aylin longed to keep on going as this felt like the right call at that time. Fed by her insatiable need for approval and spending time with her father, Aylin did everything in her power to train with him and be a good daughter. Years of training eventually manifested her choices and completely took over her life. Any possibilities to follow into her mother’s footsteps were discarded and only wrath remained. The world didn’t look all rosey after all, so she decided to help just like her father did. Yet fate propelled her into this position far too early. After her father’s murder by one of the world’s most influential forgers, Aylin took over her father’s position.

Five years in Aylin got pregnant and took a short hiatus from Pantheon. Once Serkan was born her outlook on life changed since she had something to protect now, however the cruelty remained, as did her sudden mood swings. Shaped by a traumatic childhood and mostly neglectful parents she’s made it her mission to protect her son and continue her father’s legacy all while sating her own inner demons -- and to stop being her own worst saboteur and monster.

#( info ; how do you like me now ? )

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devilhacker · 4 years

Text

FFXV Remake Ideas Part 3: Party Members

Note: There are two type party members, Permanent and Guest.

Permanent party members will follow you throughout the story. You can level up, customize, and control them during battle. However they cannot be control for travel with the exception of Stella who will take the role of Protagonist at some point.

Guest, just like in old FFXV, will act on their own with heir level and equipment is already fixed. They also only available on certain missions. Player however still can make link-strike and use their bar abilities during battle.

PERMANENT PARTY MEMBERS

1) STELLA NOX FLEURET

*Stella’s original appearance

*Stella’s possible image in FFXV.

*Sarah. Main inspiration for Stella’s abilities and personality.

Age: 21, 31 (Post WoD -if alive-), 49 (True Ending Epilogue -if alive-).

Occupation: Princess of Tenebrae, Oracle (later in game).

Class: Combat White Mage

Combat Style: Rapier and White Magic. Very High MP.

Skill: To be determined

Possible Love Interest: Noctis Lucis Caelum

Available: During Imperial attack on Insomnia

Profile: Stella had an honest and polite attitude, though a bit naive and clumsy. She was assertive and true to her beliefs due to her upbringing. She was direct and did not shy away from her problems, as opposed to Noctis, who is more reserved.

Note: She will completely replace Luna as a heroine and hero’s main love interest. Most of her abilites and personality here was inspired from Sarah, guest character from (Terra Worlds). Not gonna lie I love her chemistry with Noctis, which in my opinion is more logical and sensible than Luna.

Unlike Luna, she only revealed as Oracle later in the game

And depends on Noctis’s interraction and how far she took her role as Oracle, she will either give up her life or fought to change her destiny

2) ARANEA HIGHWIND

Age: 30, 40 (Post WoD), 58 (True Ending Epilogue).

Occupation: Commodore of Nilfheim Empire (later defect)

Class: Dragoon

Combat Style: Spear and Air Combat. Strong physical attack

Skill: Trap Setting.

Possible Love Interest: Gladiolus Amicitia

Available: After Noctis and co. raid on Imperial fortress.

Profile: Known as one of the Nilfheim’s fearsome general, Aranea raised in a slum of Gralea by her father, a low-rank officer who perished during the Great War. Her father’s demised motivate her to join the Imperial Army. Initially known for her loyalty, Aranea starting to doubts about the empire's devotion to its daemonic research.

Note: Beatrix (FF9) and Celes (FF6) was main inspiration for her backstory. Her father is my own idea, and the main reason for her conlfict with Cor later. Biggs and Wedge is still her subordinate. And like in the game, she strongly opposed the daemonic research, the reason why her unit only consist of human.

Her skill is actually one of the planned skills for FFXV but later removed. It can trap a monster when applied using proper equipment. If successful, it will leave a drop item of that monster. The higher its get, the strongest the monster it can trap.

3) CIDNEY AURUM

Age: 26, 36 (Post WoD), 54 (True Ending Epilogue).

Occupation: Mechanics

Class: Machinist

Combat Style: Stun gun and Drone Combat. Control drone from afar.

Skill: Airship management

Possible Love Interest: Prompto Argentum

Available: During search for an airship

Profile: Having lost her parents at a young age, Cindy grew up under her grizzled grandfather Cid's tutelage. She inherited his avid love for automobiles and quickly proved herself to be a more-than-capable mechanic. Her stellar reputation draws customers from all across the continent. No matter how terrible their automobile troubles, drivers come in for a tune-up and leave with a smile.

Note: Cidney is just one of the wasted characters from FFXV. If you play attention, she contribute too much in the game but everyone only seen her as an eye-candy. This idea will put more on her character development like how she deal with her parents loss and Prompto’s treachery. Her combat style is quite similar to V (dmc5) in which you control combat drone from afar.

As for her skills, you can customized and upgrade your airship if you talk to her. The more skillful she become, the more better equipment can be applied on your ship

4) IRIS AMICITIA

Age: 15, 25 (Post WoD), 43 (True Ending Epilogue).

Occupation: High-School Students, later Crownsguard

Class: Monk

Combat Style: Martial Arts and certain white magic. High Evasion rate.

Skill: Clothing Design

Possible Love Interest: Noctis Lucis Caelum

Available: After Noctis and co. arrived at Cape Caem

Profile: Daughter of House Amicitia and Gladiolus' younger sister by eight years. Her family's closeness with the crown brought her into contact with Noctis at a young age, and the two became fast friends. She has harbored an innocent crush on Noctis since she was a little girl, but in her heart, Iris knows her fantasy can never become reality, or so she thought....

Note: Her feelings for Noct is similar as Tifa to Cloud. Unlike Cloud however Noct never seen her beyond “little sister” though that feelings may change later after his return from a long slumber. Her combat is similar to Tifa from VII Remake although due to her size, some of her skils required Gladio’s presence to be work perfectly.

She can create costume. The costume she create is only for looks. It didnt have any stats.

5) RAVUS NOX FLEURET

Age: 28, 38 (Post WoD -if alive-), 56 (True Ending Epilogue -if alive-).

Occupation: Prince of Tenebrae, High Commander of the Imperial Army

Class: Dark Knight

Combat Style: Saber and dark magic.

Skill: To be determined.

Possible Love Interest: To be determined

Available: After Noctis and co. arrived at Accordo.

Profile: Eldest son of House Fleuret, Blood of the Oracle, and older brother to Lady Lunafreya. His mother was burned alive in the fires that burned Tenebrae twelve years ago. Blaming the "cowardly" King Regis for her death, Ravus capitulated to his new imperial overlords and joined their ranks. His involvement with the Empire is the reason Stella embark a journey in order to free him and their Kingdom.

Note: Yes. There’s a quite upside down here. In FFXV, he joined the empire to save Luna. In here, Stella trying to free him from the Empire. Depending on his interraction with Noctis and Ignis; and Stella’s story, he either live until the end or died sacrificing himself.

(to be continued)

#Stella Nox Fleuret #aranea highwind #iris amicitia #cidney aurum #cindy aurum #ravus nox fleuret #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #ffxv

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ayellowcurtain · 5 years

Text

Remember me - Penetrator!Eliott AU - Chapter 2

Lucas stares at his reflection in the mirror. He got home half an hour ago, the sun was still rising in the horizon. The mirror is still blurry from the fog the warm shower created but Lucas can see parts of himself. There’s only one mark on his pale skin. A hickey right on his collar bone.

When Lucas closes his eyes for a second and touches it he can still see Eliott’s lips against his skin, marking him, trying to say that he was close and Lucas can hear himself begging him to come inside of him.

Fuck.

He shakes his head trying to get back to reality. Alone in his bathroom, drying himself and there’s nothing that it’s Eliott on him anymore.

Lucas is not counting but it’s been almost two months since that night.

It was more like a twenty-four-hour thing than a night but it doesn’t matter anymore.

Nothing happened afterward. Lucas saw Eliott a few times in school but they never talked with each other, it was like nothing ever happened.

And it makes Lucas wonder if it actually did happen or his imagination just went wild one of these days. In his mind, it was so much more than sex. It felt intimate like they cared for each other in some different way.

And then there are these small moments that make him be sure that everything did happen. Eliott runs into him one day, saying sorry right away and he looks at Lucas in the same way he did that night.

Sometimes Lucas can feel someone staring at him and he finally finds a pair of beautiful, deep blue eyes just staring at him like he’s the most delicious prey. Lucas tries to avoid thinking too much about it. He’ll never go to Eliott and ask if they can hang out again sometime.

But he definitely sleeps with Eliott’s hoodie every night. It makes him feel at home. The piece of Eliott that he owns makes him reminiscing about his childhood, about his mom, about feeling safe. He was so dumb. It only needed one night of (amazing) sex and he was already falling for his childhood best friend.

He brushes his teeth staring at the reflection. Eliott Demaury written right on the left side of his chest on the black soft, cotton of the hoodie.

Lucas really wants to talk to him, just go and ask what the fuck is going on. Eliott acted like it meant something more than just a hookup, they looked at each other like when you really want to tell the other person all your secrets but you can’t. So he’ll just go to the guy when he’s alone and ask. It’s not that hard, he’s not asking Eliott to marry him.

And they know each other. Lucas’ mom still acts like they’re best friends.

Don’t think too much about it, Lucas tries to tell himself while changing his clothes for the third time on a Monday morning. He decides for a black shirt, skinny jeans and his favorite sneakers. He can’t be late today, he wants to talk to Eliott before class. He walks around the school but can’t find him. Some of his friends have this weird look on their faces and they’re oddly quiet when walking around the hall.

Lucas doesn’t know what’s going on until Wednesday morning.

“He’s crazy. Eliott Demaury is crazy! He tried to kiss one of the boys and apparently they all almost got into a real fight because of it.”

The conversation is going on for five minutes now. Daphné is the one to tell all of them about it. The girls seem more interested, Arthur says kissing a guy doesn’t make Eliott crazy and Basile talks all about his mom.

Lucas tries not to ask too many questions, but he needs to know. The small information is what was left for him to put some pieces together.

A few years ago, when Eliott and Lucas started to drift apart, Lucas would always run into Eliott’s mom in his house, whispering something to his mom over their mugs filled, hiding in the kitchen. She looked worried for ten-year-old Lucas but he was afraid to ask. He was already friends with Yann and the Demaury’s visits turned into weekly events and then it was only their moms.

“It’s a girl's night.” His mom would say to him whenever he asked why they were meeting alone.

Lucas puts his hair back, suddenly feeling tired of interacting with everyone at the same time, hearing them gossip about Eliott.

“What happened exactly?” He looks at Manon. She’s with the Charles guy, he must have told her something. If he had asked Daphné she would make it ten times more dramatic.

Manon just shrugs, looking at Lucas.

“I don’t really know. Charles was at the flat and one of the boys called him, he rushed there and he just told me that something happened with Eliott, he was hospitalized but I think he’s home already.”

Lucas tries to hide how worried he is. He just listens to Daphné talking about the party, about Idriss and Sofiane helping Eliott walk out of the party: he seemed very drunk and out of it, she says.

Lucas can’t concentrate after the break, biting his nails while he stares at his phone on his lap, Eliott’s phone number on his screen, waiting for him to text or call or anything.

Wednesday, 11 a.m.

to Eliott: hey, are you ok? I’m here if you wanna talk.

Wednesday, 01 a.m.

to Eliott: you don’t have to go through this alone, Eliott.

Lucas tries not to overstep it. He feels like they are strangers now but he obviously still cares very deeply about the other one, maybe too much for someone who he doesn’t even talk. But the rumors are spreading like wild fucking fire. An hour ago the chat with the boys started sending a bunch of messages.

Eliott is bipolar.

Arthur was the one to deliver the news and talk about how Basile is some kind of oracle for talking earlier about his mom.

And Basile goes on again talking about how his mom is and how she deals with it. Lucas opened his browser and does a little research. Eliott must be feeling terrible if Lucas knows at least a little bit about him.

Friday, 03 a.m.

to Eliott: wht dd you kis Alex? I wantt to kis you.

Saturday, 7 a.m

to Lucas: I’m ok.

Lucas stares at his phone, trying to keep his eyes open, reading the message again. He’s too sleepy and hungover so he lets his phone slip to his pillow, falling asleep again.

What?!

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s definitely not thinking. But he manages to ring the bell, holding the bouquet tighter. Maybe Eliott is still feeling down and he won’t answer the door. When Lucas is about to put the bouquet against the door and leave, someone unlocks the door.

It’s Eliott’s mom, she seems tired. They haven’t seen each other in months. Now that he’s actually looking at her, he can see where Eliott’s eyes and nose come from. Lucas manages to say hi, telling that he’s there to check on Eliott.

She’s a bit skeptical at first but then she goes to one of the doors in the hall, talking to someone, but Lucas can’t hear an answer. It’s their new house, Lucas has never been there before, only on their old, tiny house. This is definitely better.

She sighs when she walks back to the door, sounding even more tired and she lets Lucas in, telling him that Eliott’s bedroom is on the right in the hall and that he’ll love to see someone other than her. She smiles when he passes by her, putting her hand on his shoulder for a second while she closes the door behind him.

He walks slowly to the closed door, opening it carefully. Lucas can only see Eliott’s shape in a fetal position, completely covered by his heavy blankets. He doesn’t know what he can or can’t do but he moves slowly so Eliott can stop him at any time.

He lifts the blankets, finding Eliott’s naked back, he’s only wearing black briefs and he probably hasn’t showered in days but Lucas doesn’t care, he lies down carefully, covering himself completely as well, slowly putting his arms around Eliott’s waist, nuzzling against his back, looking at the constellation of freckles on his pale skin.

“Can I stay here with you for a little?” He whispers against the warm skin and Eliott takes a minute to give him a simple answer while putting his hand on top of Lucas’.

“Yes.”

Lucas can’t fall asleep. He tries for almost an hour but it’s impossible. Is too hot underneath the covers and he’s too worried. But he can feel when Eliott sleeps, his hand slowly slipping back to the mattress.

Lucas doesn’t know how much time passes but his position is not comfortable anymore so he moves away from Eliott carefully, laying on his back, looking around.

He can’t help but think about the last time he was here.

Their first time was so awkward and perfect at the same time. He wasn’t expecting to have sex that night. At all. Especially not with Eliott. And when he saw that it was a possibility, he never thought it would be so...good but also so intimate and funny.

Lucas was so hard. And it happened way too fast. Maybe it was his teenage hormones but he was feeling like his jeans were going to rip if Eliott didn’t touch him soon. So he tried to open his legs, give at least the option for Eliott to touch him and he was completely ignored. Eliott was busy kissing Lucas like his life depended on it.

His kiss was also the best. The right amount of tongue and lips and little bites mixed with synchronized moans.

But every few seconds Lucas’ dick would beg for his or any attention at that point. And Eliott was a tease. Lucas could tell he was purposely ignoring it. So he had to stop the kiss, resting his head against the wall behind him, panting.

“Can you please just touch me?” He managed to open his eyes to meet Eliott’s wide smile, his eyes forming a half-moon.

“You’re in a rush tonight…”

“Putain, Eliott! Please, don’t be a tease.” Eliott shook his head. He was going to touch Lucas, just not yet. He was about to go back to kissing Lucas but he turned his face, biting his lip.

“Eliott, just fucking touch me.”

“Not yet, baby.” Since Lucas wasn’t letting him go back to kissing, Eliott decided to go for his jaw and his neck very slowly, sometimes licking with his broad, warm tongue.

“I’ll touch myself then.” Lucas rushed his hands down to open his pants but Eliott was quicker, holding his hands, laughing.

“No! Be nice, c’mon.”

“I fucking hate you. So much you have no idea.” Eliott smiled again, nuzzling their noses together, looking at Lucas with so much fondness.

“You won’t hate me for too long, I promise.”

“Can you come with me?” Lucas was able to sleep with a hard on but it didn’t last long. When he woke up, Eliott was facing him, watching him sleep. So he sat on the bed, quietly holding Eliott’s hands. He tries to pull Eliott by his wrist to sit up but he doesn’t really move.

“I don’t feel like leaving my bed, Lucas.” And Lucas knows he means it. Eliott has very dark circles around his eyes, the blue is mixed with a little bit of red around it and the older one looks so tired.

“Please. Just take a shower with me and I’ll let you run back here, I promise. Your mom is not home, she won’t even know it happened.” Lucas tries to explain. Eliott’s mom left an hour or so ago but she should be back soon, she wouldn’t leave him for too long.

“I’m sure she already saw me doing worse things with worse people. She wouldn’t mind seeing us together.” Lucas stops trying to pull Eliott to sit, he tries to make his heart not jump and his cheeks not blush. But it’s hard to control his eyes and how he looks at Eliott and his curiosity.

“So you two talk about me?” The question seems to fade away with just a little bit of the sadness in Eliott’s eyes. It’s not on the surface anymore but Lucas can still see it in the deep sea that exists inside Eliott’s eyes.

“We like you. Very much. I’m sure she thinks you’re the perfect guy for me.” Lucas puts Eliott’s hands back on the bed, not knowing what to do with the information. It’s a good thing, but it’s also weird to hear Eliott say it. If his mom wants Lucas as son-in-law maybe it’s Eliott who doesn’t want it. And it hurts just a little to know that.

“I’m not perfect.” That’s all he manages to say after that, getting off the bed, waiting for Eliott to follow.

“I think you are.”

Lucas just wanted to make Eliott get out of bed, move a little, breathe some fresh air even if it was from his bathroom just a couple of meters away from his bed. But as soon as Eliott got up, he wrapped one arm around Lucas and it never left again.

He holds Lucas like they’re intimate and an old couple. While Lucas is turning the hot water on and waiting for it to be bearable, Eliott is always close, his fingertips carefully pressing against Lucas’ abs. He moves Lucas around when he needs to grab the towels and they get inside the tub almost at the same time. Eliott pulls Lucas in front of him, right under the shower.

Lucas should be reasonable on the situation, but as soon as Eliott is close enough, brushing his lips against Lucas’, he can’t say no. So they start kissing like it’s the first time ever. He lets himself be carried away until it’s too late. Their bodies are glued to the other, Lucas can feel everything. He’s not sure but from what he knows of Eliott and about his mental health it’s not the greatest idea to have sex right now. He doesn’t want to have sex like this.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” Lucas manages to whisper against Eliott’s lips even if he disagrees with his own words. It’s hard to stop Eliott from turning him to face the wall. If Eliott comes near his neck it’s over. So he has to stop them before it’s too late.

“Why not? We are the best idea I ever had.” Eliott looks so deep into his eyes that Lucas is sure Eliott can see his heart-melting for Eliott with every passing second.

“We are?” He raises his eyebrows, relaxing against the wall behind him, stopping Eliott’s hand on his hip so he won’t move it somewhere else.

“Yes. We. My mom would be so fucking beyond happy.” Eliott smiles, kissing the corner of his lips.

“And you?” Lucas turns his head to be able to see Eliott and he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Me what?”

“What do you think...about us?” Eliott steps back but keeps his hands on Lucas’ hips. And Lucas instantly regrets asking, he doesn’t want to hear it. “You don’t want us.” He decides to answer before Eliott can.

“I want you. Without having to do with myself.” The older one says so easily. He doesn’t seem to realize how deep that is.

“I can assure you I’m not as easy as you think I am to deal with.” Lucas tries to explain to him, his thumb making little circles around Eliott’s wrist.

“You’re the best. And if I could have you without having to deal with myself...that would be a perfect life.”

“Stop…” Lucas whines, taking a deep breath or he would jump on the other one, kiss all his worries away. For as long as Eliott would let him.

“Can you stay here tonight?” Eliott asks after a minute, putting Lucas’ damp hair back.

“Yes, of course.”

It’s the best and longest night of Lucas’ life. His lips are sore, puffy and so dry but he can’t stop kissing Eliott, pulling him closer. They’re constantly walking on the thin line between a make-out session and actual sex and it’s driving Lucas crazy but he likes it.

He likes how Eliott holds the sides of his head, his fingertips quietly going under Lucas’ shirt, touching his collar bone and his chest. Lucas loves the little moans that come out of Eliott’s mouth when they stop kissing for a second. He manages to open his eyes and see Eliott blatantly staring at his lips, pulling him in for another kiss.

He always wants another kiss, for Eliott to come a little closer, to tangle their limbs so much they can never leave the bed again.

It would be a problem at any other moment, but Lucas doesn’t mind that he’s half-hard the entire night. It just feels good to have Eliott right in front of him, happy and safe.

#skam france #elu fic #eliott demaury #Lucas Lallemant #remember me fic

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incoherentbabblings · 5 years

Text

First Date (1/9)

Tim has one more test to pass before Bruce will allow him out as Robin. Like Dick and Jason before him, he has to avoid being caught by Batman for one night. He has already failed once, and is determined to succeed this time. Determination which might not count for much when Stephanie Brown is on the run from the mob. Her mother kidnapped as a way to threaten her father, Stephanie manages to escape and run into Tim. Unable to leave Stephanie alone when she is in need, Tim decides to try and multi-task. All he has to do is rescue Stephanie’s mother, take down the mob, avoid Batman, and get Stephanie to agree to a proper date all in one night. Absolute anarchy ensues. Ao3 link here!

This is 100% inspired by the First Love (2019) Trailer. I didn't know the plot when I started writing so it's purely the premise of girl being chased by the mob and the bloke getting drawn into the mess cause he's head over heels for the girl... seems as good a place to start as any. The film looks absolutely bonkers so I wanted to try and capture that energy in a story. God knows if I succeed. Everyone is a little bit older than they otherwise were in the comics. I have no excuse.

Tim tried not to stare too long at the Robin costume behind the glass panels. Batman was stomping down the cave stairs behind it, heading in Tim’s direction. He was currently slumped at a desk, fiddling with small explosives.

The final test began in three hours, and Tim was so nervous he felt like he was about to give birth to a brick.

Avoid Bruce from eight at night until eight in the morning. That was all. A demented game of hide and seek; stop any (small) crime that you came across that night but avoid being pointed out by or grabbed by the Bat. No costume, no equipment, just you and the clothes on your back and feet.

Dick had managed it, Jason had too.

Tim was on his second go.

The first time he had fumbled simply because he was not fast enough. He had managed until three in the morning. Squatting in an abandoned building in the narrows, he had stopped to eat a breakfast bar and take a piss.

It had not ended well.

So, six months later, endless missions as Batman and Oracle's mission control plus one and at least sixty lessons on improving reflexes, he was getting a second shot.

He had been told under no circumstances would there be a third. If he failed this, Robin was dead (in every way that mattered).

Dick was optimistic to Tim’s face, happily offering advice and a change of teacher whenever Tim could manage visiting New York. However as far as Tim knew he had not vouched for a second shot to Bruce himself. Dick still would not step foot in Gotham if he could help it. His relationship with Bruce, something Tim had given himself the task of starting the restoration of, was still very strained. Jason’s costume in the glass case hung over everyone like the dead elephant in the room. Always present, always in sight, always inescapable.

No, the push for a second go had come from Barbara. Tim enjoyed spending time with her. She was sardonic in her wit, but patient in her teaching. Sometimes it was reassuring, sometimes it was patronising. She had a level head and a gentleness about her that somehow reminded Tim of his mother (little he got to spend significant amounts of time with before she kicked the bucket).

Maybe he was projecting.

His brain wandered, thinking of what a Gotham psychiatrist would make of him. Nothing good probably. What sixteen-year-old signs up for what he signed up for? What he pushed for? If Bruce and Dick had had their way, none of this would be happening. Tim’s stubbornness appeared pathological. He titled his head, wondering if he was being cruel by pushing Robin back into the lives of people who had wanted to leave it behind. He briefly realised that he was acting on the assumption that he knew how best to handle the emotional state of two grieving men than they themselves did.

Although, thinking of Dick and Bruce’s emotional processing capabilities, perhaps Tim did know better.

He frowned and pressed his lips together, hands still fiddling with the small explosives that he would not be allowed to take with him tonight. So lost in his own head he only realised he was glaring disgustedly at Bruce until Batman coughed loudly. Tim started, fingers fumbling over the bomb’s trigger.

“I wasn’t staring at you.” Tim said pitifully.

“Clearly.”

Tim had no response and looked down at the tiny bombs. They couldn’t do much damage, they stung more like a paintball pellet when they exploded. Enough to make you wince and potentially fall over, weak enough to avoid any real damage apart from your suffering ear drums and bruises from the popped shell.

“Where’s my starting point this time?”

Batman looked at the time: 7pm. One hour until kick-off.

“Wayne Tower” he said. “Fifteen-minute head start, then I will set out from here. Be back at Wayne Tower any time after eight, but before nine tomorrow morning. Don't think you can squat there all night. You'll lose in less than half an hour.”

Easy.

Nodding, Tim stood up and pulled away from the table. He still held on to one bomb with his right hand, thumb rubbing anxiously against the sphere.

“I won’t fail this time.” He swore.

Bruce said nothing, and there was no movement of his mouth to indicate any other sort of reaction. Tim felt himself internally slump. Bruce had no faith in him. He’d always known that, and logically he understood the reasoning. It didn’t mean that it still didn’t sting a little.

“Your father understands you won’t be home tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m covered.”

Ives was the cover. He hadn’t intruded too much into why Tim was sneaking out all night, but felt naughty enough to agree to lie to Jack in case enquired further. It wasn’t the most solid of plans, but Tim also knew that his father barely checked on him as is. Too lost in his own head to notice what his son was up to.

“Good.” Batman held out a small device. “Take this. If you need help or want out, switch this on. I’ll be able to find you then.”

Tim stared at it for a moment, then rather reluctantly took it. “It’s not on already is it? Not much of chance tonight if this is already tracking me.”

Batman was unamused. “It switches on when you switch it on.”

Tim’s awkward smile fell and he nodded, pocketing it.

“See you tomorrow morning then.” He joked, laughing with a confidence he wasn’t sure he felt.

Bruce just grunted and went to turn away. Tim exhaled heavily, gnawing on his lip, when his thumb snapped a small knob on the bomb. He looked down, realised he had just triggered it, and squeaked.

The thing popped in his hand with such a loud bang that it disturbed the bats above, screeching and rustling. One of them proceeded to take a massive crap which plopped down between Tim and Batman. Swearing loudly, he flapped his hand quickly back and forth, trying to cool down the burn. Bruce had turned at the sound, then stared at the pile of bat waste on the metal floor. His gaze moved up, and watched Tim make a fool of himself. Not one ounce of emotion was shown on his face. Tim smiled, eyes wet with the sting.

“This is fine.” Tim said.

“Is it?”

“Yup. Peachy.” Tim whistled and winced and buried his hand between his thighs, trying to elevate the sting. Bent in half, head near the floor, he choked out a polite goodbye, wishing for Bruce to just leave him in his humiliation.

When he finally gathered the courage to look up, he saw that Bruce was gone. Smacking his head repeatedly, he slumped away to his red car, sidestepping the bat poo that Alfred would inevitably have to clean.

A great start to a great evening for sure.

Tim parked around four blocks down from Wayne Tower, a multi-storey which smelt of piss, alcohol, weed and assortment of other nose wrinkling things. It was around the block from the hospital, so was not used for much outside of frantic potential patients and their visitors.

Slowly he made his way down the stairs, hopping past a passed-out chap hanging over the railings. Coming out onto the overwhelmingly busy street, he began to make his way to Wayne Tower.

He had a rough game plan. One that, in hindsight, was not detailed enough. First time round he had made the mistake of planning out his every move, to which once Batman had figured out that plan, tracking Tim down was easy-peasy. No, this time, he was going to (Night)wing it.

He was going to stay low initially, stay amongst the crowds of central Gotham for as long as it was busy and as long as Batman needed to stay out of sight from the average Joe. He’d worn bland clothing to try and blend in. Black sneakers, black jeans, some plaid shirt and a red light jacket. A backpack had nothing but the absolute essentials in them. He’d been refused any tools to help him, but food, drink and money was allowed. He’d left his phone behind, and the tracker Batman had given him was zipped in an inside pocket.

The city’s churches rang out that it was eight o’clock, and it was go time.

He took in a deep shaky breath, rolled back his shoulders, and left the tower grounds.

***

Stephanie knew she had her pissy face on. It matched her insides, which were churning in a such a rage she had developed heartburn.

If she threw up, she begged it would be after she got off the bus. And in front of the hospital.

Her mom had insisted on her coming to pick her up from work. Her mother’s shift ended at eight, and there Steph was on her way to collect her mother.

A lone seventeen-year-old girl travelling in the dark on public transport.

Bad enough for any city.

But in Gotham?

Stephanie wondered if her mother was trying to get rid of her.

She knew she had enough of an angry expression that no-one dared sit near her for fear she would start ragging on their very existence. Or throwing up on their feet. Depended how awful the heartburn got.

Headphones in playing no music and sneering at nothing, she silently stewed the whole journey into Gotham City Centre.

Upon arrival outside the hospital, she waited for her mother to emerge.

Crystal stumbled out into the early autumn air, wearing probably a thicker coat than was necessary. On her feet were her white slip-ons, but she had changed into what appeared to be her pyjamas.

Stephanie inspected Crystal as she shuffled over. “What’s with the jammies?”

Her mother ignored her. “Need to head to the pharmacy.”

Curling her lip, Stephanie shook her head. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow? It’s eight at night? I’ll go to the one round the corner first thing in the morning for you before you wake up.”

Her mom didn’t seem to hear her. “I’m all out. I won’t sleep unless I got something to knock me down for the night.”

Seeing how uncooperative she was being, Stephanie snapped as her. “Weren’t able to grab some spares from the cupboards? You know the in-house ones won’t give anymore so you—”

“That’s enough Stephanie!” Her mother whirled and grabbed her hand, pulling her down the street. “I am in pain after a nightmare shift. I don’t need you to have a go on top of everything.”

Guilt flooded Stephanie, and she shut up. She reminded herself that she couldn’t be responsible for her mother’s sobriety and tried to let it go. She twisted in her mother’s grip until she could hold Crystal’s hand. Her mother twined their fingers together, holding tight. All was forgiven. Conflict avoided.

“…We got through another scene of Hamlet today.”

“Oh? Enjoying being Ophelia?” Crystal asked, staggering slightly, the pain in her back slowing the pair down considerably.

“It’s fun… kinda. Though, she doesn’t even have that much to say or do in the end.”

“No… most of Shakespeare’s tragedies don’t give much to the women.”

“Lady Macbeth and Juliet aside.”

“Hmm. The comedies are better anyway.”

And so, they talked, slowly making their way through the centre of the city, hunting for the one pharmacy that a) was open after eight and b) was within walking distance of their bus stop route.

Gotham was noisy and bright tonight, many staggering people yelled and fell over into the road, but most of them were laughing or from having a good time. The neon signs for assorted bars, restaurants, clubs and shops were garish more than welcoming, but Stephanie liked it all the same. The city was alive, though down each dark alley uncomfortable smells and sights ensured both women kept deliberately facing forward. A humdrum of the city came out at night, especially after twelve. That was when the Bat would appear, and all hell would break loose. Stephanie and her mother lived far enough out in the crappy suburbs to avoid the hellish events from places like the Narrows from spilling over, but that didn’t mean they had escaped what the city could be unscathed.

For example, Stephanie’s father - Crystal’s husband - hadn’t come home in nearly two weeks now.

Stephanie cared, if only because she didn’t know why and/or where he was. Maybe he was dead, lost in a shoot out and stuffed down the sewers. Maybe he was cooking up another awful plan to get more money, hurting who knows how many people in the process.

Stephanie didn’t love or care for her father, but she did care about the consequences of his actions on others, on Gotham.

On her mother.

They arrived at a pharmacy which looked rather empty inside, save for three blokes staring at the condoms and lube in one corner. Crystal took one look at them and asked for Stephanie to wait outside. Reluctant, but not wanting to fight with her mother more that evening, Stephanie nodded, and lingered under a lamp. She plugged her headphones back in and stared in the shop window, eyes following her mother.

She watched as Crystal pulled a prescription from her purse at the counter. A very tired and out of it looking pharmacist glanced at it, then glanced at Crystal, then glanced back at the paper, and finally back to Crystal. They heaved such a sigh it was like they carried the weight of the world, and then moved out back to fill a bottle. Her mother’s haggard appearance, making her look older than her age of 42, was in part due to endless cigarettes, as well as the alcohol and drug abuse. The pharmacist no doubt recognised it, but just wanted to do their job and get Crystal out of the store.

Stephanie ignore the sound of some pervert wolf whistling her from some bar across the road and glared as one of the three condom buying men turned and did a double take at the sight of Crystal. He repeatedly smacked his friend on the arm, not so subtly grabbing his attention. The third guy listened to the pair as they talked, watching with no subtlety the woman waiting for her painkillers.

Feeling a drop of fear, Stephanie went to walk in the shop, praying that faced with two woman, one that could kick and punch and bite particularly hard, the men wouldn’t try anything. The third man noticed her before she entered, and pointed with an exaggerated stupidity, like he was an old friend of hers and it was some inside joke, some usual greeting between the two.

She jerked to a stop, instead blurting out a call for her mother.

Crystal turned, frowning, when Stephanie saw them men pull out guns.

She shrieked, and the second man turned his gun on her, and shot above her head, firing through the open door.

Stephanie fell to the ground, then scrambled up. The man had deliberately missed her, so frightening her must have been the aim. Beyond that, she was lost at their motives. She didn’t recognise those men, and neither did her mother it seemed, who was kicking up a storm, screeching and twisting and kicking as the other two men grabbed her. The moment one of them put his pistol on her temple, she froze, and looked for Stephanie out the corner of her eye. The pharmacist had seemingly hidden away in the back once the sound of shots had been made.

Stephanie tried to rush into the store to help, partially sure that the men wouldn’t do any serious damage to her, when another fired bullet grazed her thigh, shattering the store window. She collapsed from the pain, and looked down as her leg began to run red.

The man wasn’t trying to miss, he was just a shit shot.

With a bleeding leg, a mother in danger of being shot in the head, and three men with guns ready to hurt or kill her, Stephanie freaked.

She began screaming hysterically, and a crowd had begun to gather at the spectacle. No police presence appeared, and no-one intervened. Drunken jeers came from the side, but no-one helped Stephanie to her feet or to check on her injury. Three incompetent men with guns were somehow a greater threat then three competent ones to the general public. Stephanie and Crystal were strangers to these people, and not something risking their life over.

Her mother was dragged out the shop and into a nearby car mounted on the curb, not resisting and limp with fear. Once she was inside, two of the men turned for Stephanie, but she had managed to pull herself to her feet. Still screaming, although with rage this time instead of fear, she body slammed one to the ground, doing a roly-poly on top of him. Her leg burned in agony, but she managed to pull herself up to standing. She began to sprint as best she could away, heading back towards the hospital. She had to treat her leg first.

With what money? Eh.

And then what?

She didn’t really have the presence of mind to think chronologically or logically about her situation. Her left leg gave way every time her foot slammed into the concrete ground, and she flinched and screamed every time a shot rang out until she was so far down the street she was out of range.

That didn’t stop them however, as the car drove away, one of the men gave chase to Stephanie, seemingly sure he could run down an injured teenage girl.

She managed to turn the corner onto a large avenue, the hospital just one more block down. Wayne Tower, in all its fancy glory, stood watch at the far end. Her leg gave out then, and she crashed into a streetlamp. She called for help again as she saw the man gaining on her. She went to push off the pole, but she collapsed in a heap on floor. She rolled onto her back, groaning. Most people gave her a wide berth as she stared at the man only a few feet away now. One or two hadn't moved out of the way, probably from confusion more than anything. The man pushed several of them out of the way.

Abruptly, and with as much strength as a brick wall, a boy in front of her held his arm out, and punched the man straight in the face.

The man actually whirled up and down, legs up in the air at odd angles, arms contorted strangely as he had stopped at such a speed and with such force. His head thumped against the ground, and with that the man pursuing Stephanie was passed out cold on the street. She felt herself squeak at the man now lying on the floor next to her.

The boy quickly removed the gun from his hand, emptying it of bullets and scattering them on the street. People were staring again, but didn’t say or do anything aside from a passing comment here and there of, “Hey is that guy passed out?”

Stephanie tried not to flinch as the boy knelt in front of her, but she couldn’t help it as he looked at her bleeding leg. He went to touch it, to which Stephanie cried out, and slapped him hard across the face.

The boy lost his balance from the force of the slap but managed to hold his hands up in deference whilst looking at the floor submissively. He was trying to make himself as small and nonthreatening as possible. A difficult task to achieve when faced with a bleeding, sweaty, crying girl lying on the floor.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just wanted to check on it. Should I get you to the hospital? It’s not far from –”

“I know where it is! Where do you think I was running?”

Her sharp interruption didn’t seem to offend him, instead it seemed to amuse him.

“Yeah. Sorry. Sorry.”

He finally looked at her then, and Stephanie felt her heart stutter for a reason other than fear. He also seemed gobsmacked for some reason, and his gaze made her squirm.

Darnnit.

“My name’s Tim.” He finally offered, smiling like a dork who hadn't just one punched a gang member.

Shit. He was cute.

Her stomach rolled abruptly, and Tim watched as she turned faintly green, growing concern on his soft face. Her heartburn apparently had had enough of this evening, but she managed to turn her head to the side in time for her to vomit all over the street. Some woman cried out, stumbling away and fell into the gutter, heels flying off comically. Someone muttered, "Jesus Christ". Stephanie and Tim couldn't care less. He reached out and stroked her hair, far too familiar for someone he had just met and watched puke. Stephanie found she actually quite liked it.

A moment's pause, and Stephanie turned back over onto her back. Someone shouted about how disgusting she was, and the blood oozing from her leg was starting to flow upwards on the uneven ground, mixing in with the brown stinky vomit. There were carrot chunks from the soup she'd microwaved earlier slipping down a storm drain. Her mother had just been kidnapped. Stephanie had been shot in the leg. She had bits of puke stuck in her hair and teeth and now her breath smelt really bad.

Her mother had just been kidnapped. Stephanie had been shot. In the leg.

Tim was grinning at her as if she were a million dollars. She smiled dreamily.

“…Hi Tim.”

#dc #timsteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #my fic tag

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amidalogicdive · 7 years

Note

I wasn't sure if you were still taking prompts but whenever if you want in the Forget me not Universe nyxnoct flirty suggestive nsfw edition prompt “I want you. Right here. Right now.” if you want I wanted like maybe like a reference to their first time having sex together before Noct lost memories or however you want I love your writing either way. And only if you want.

I’m always taking prompts, even if I say I’m not lol. Just might take me a while to get to them! So here you are, kinda!

Forget Me Not - Memories of You

Part 1/3

Ao3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11642916/chapters/26189481

):{°•|○|•°}:(

Noctis was ten the first time their eyes had met. Nyx stood at attention in the cooling fall air, eyes forward as the Royal Inspections took place within the training area. He’d become a glaive a few months prior, still young, reckless and eager to prove himself to the King that had saved him. Said King stood close by, Captain Drautos updating him on the latest missions outside the wall, who they had lost and who had proven valuable in the field. They would pause every few minutes, Regis looking down at the young boy at his side, smiling as his son whispered questions and the King responded in kind. It was obvious how much the man adored the prince, as gentle smiles, or a tender pat on the head accompanied his words.

If he could be honest, Nyx hasn’t thought much of the Prince when he had first seen him. He was a pale, quiet little things who seemed a mere shadow of his father, more so than the future heir. At the same time, he couldn’t help but chide himself. Was it fair to judge him? Everyone knew of the attack on his life a few years back, and those nearest to the crown knew how close it had come to succeeding. For Nyx, he’d heard of the daemon that had attacked the king and his retinue and of the young heir’s injuries stemming from that night. After that, nothing, for months all news on the prince fell silent. Then the whole world went to hell…Tenebrae had been attacked, it’s Queen and Oracle killed. Her heirs taken into Imperial custody.The King of Insomnia, who had been visiting at the time, also attacked. Some said it was an attempt on his life that had brought the Nif’s there in the first place.Rumors then spread of the Prince, once again, being involved as well. It was never proven, and the palace had been very unforthcoming when it came to the young boy.Galahd had been attacked shortly thereafter, and while King Regis had done what he could, it had been an unstoppable massacre. Nyx homeland was now a shadow of what it had once been.As they passed by the glaive was shaken from his thoughts, briefly nodding to the king who’d greeted him by name. A moment later he dared to glance down at the child that followed. Pale blue eyes widened slightly in surprise, seeing dark orbs hidden under darker fringe staring back. He noted something in that gaze, it was a feeling that sunk into him, something he couldn’t shake. The thought that maybe this boy could be a King he’d willingly serve crossed his mind. If he proved himself to be as honorable as his father, then one day he might be proud to become his glaive.The two wouldn’t meet again for several years, the weeks passing in a blur as the war worsened and missions became a frequent call for the glaives. All that changed one spring day as his Captain made his way over and handed him a sealed folder, requesting he open it in private. It was hours later when Nyx was in the safety of his small apartment that he would learn the content. A personal invitation from King Regis, the glaive summoned to the Citadel first thing the next morning.So as asked, he made his way up to the Citadel in his best dress uniform, stairs still slick with early morning dew as he took them two at a time. While it was true that Nyx was no longer the young glaive he’d been, he was still powerful, dependable and loyal to Lucis, having been given the moniker of ’Hero’. Though Captain Drautos tended to comment on his recklessness on a constant basis, he’d come to enjoy the life that he had created in Insomnia. Maybe if Nyx had known the next few hours would change his life, he might have declined the invitation. But one couldn’t see the future, and no one could change the past. So the reason behind this meeting came as a surprise when he finally found himself before the King. Regis could only watch as the glaive kneeling before him went from thoughtful to a very confused and dumbfounded expression as the question processed. Finally, Nyx looked up at him and responded to his proposal the only way he could at that moment.“You gotta be fucking me.” The King chuckled as his shield literally facepalmed.“I assure you, Sir Ulric, I am doing nothing of the sort. I would appreciate your assistance with training my son.”He could see the logic in the request. It was no secret among the glaives that he could wield the Lucian magic with a control that had surprised many. On the other hand, many knew that he had an issue with authority, including King Regis. Much of it stemmed from his need to protect clashing with the Captain’s orders. This had lead to more than a few shifts on the gate watch with the darling Crownsguard. As the request sank in, he couldn’t help but ask him the one question that kept popping into his mind, “why me?”“While the Captain sees your actions as a disciplinary issue, I have noticed that you have always put your fellow glaives safety before your own. You are also loyal, and I need someone like that, who will always put my son’s safety before all else.” So it had been his loyalty to the King that had brought this on, part of him had hoped for more. Chilled blue eyes fell to the marble floor, his mind racing for the most tactful way he might refuse the offer.“That said, I need a man who can see past the title and won’t treat him like a prince. It makes him uncomfortable,” Clarus smiled at those words as Regis grinned, Nyx looking back up. “which I fully understand. It has been many years since you’ve seen my son, Sir Ulric. I believe you were still a fresh glaive at the time. If you will humor this old man for a few moments, I would like to tell you about him?”That caught his attention and his interest. “I have nothing but time, Your Majesty.” Standing, he fell into a simple parade rest with his hands behind his back as the King continued.“Noctis is much like his mother, a simple and quiet soul unless he’s around those he trusts. He has a good heart, honestly, wants to help those around him and can be quite charming, well when he wishes to be.” A loving smile appeared as he spoke. “Honestly, the boy would be happier wasting the day away at some lake fishing, than a comfortable life locked up here in the Citadel. I don’t blame him.“ There was a pause a thoughtful look crossed his features. "Like his mother once did, he shies away from all the pomp of such a title and prefers those who will not hold what he is over him. I wish I could let Noctis live the simple life he wishes for, unfortunately, I cannot. So, I hope you will help him continue the training he’s already begun, his magic and warping could be improved, and who better than you. Not only are you my best glaive, but you are someone who will put him through the pace as if he were any other glaive in training.” Nyx felt humbled that the King had such respect and belief in him. He knew he wasn’t perfect, and came with a ton of baggage, but this man had taken him in regardless. He had given him a home and people to protect, a second chance to make things right. Now he trusted him with his own son, it was almost more than he could take.“I know that you don’t care who he is, only what he can do. But, I also know you will keep him safe. So I ask again: Nyx Ulric, will you train my son?”Looking a bit smug at the comment, he shook his head in amusement he finally gave in. “Yes, Your Majesty, I’ll see what I can do with this little prince of yours.”With the audience dismissed, he found himself following a Crownsguard through the halls of the Citadel and to the training grounds found within. As they walked he could hear the sound of laughter and the bite of sarcastic remarks coming from the gardens. His guide stopped outside a pair of wood doors and wished him good luck, then disappeared into the maze that was the palace without another word. Nyx took a breath and braced himself to meet the child that he hadn’t seen in years, wondering if he would still be the shy little boy that had stood at his father’s side, whispering questions. Pulling the door open he finally laid eyes upon the heir, and Nyx knew right then he’d made a terrible mistake.Prince Noctis was as wild and beautiful as the magic that ran through his veins, granted to him by his bloodline. His skin reminded him of honey-milk, pale against his black training clothes. He couldn’t help watching as he reached up to run thin fingers through his dark hair, brushing it back from his face. The prince was laughing as he watched the two men that stood before him. One was a blond boy, and he was on some tangent as he told his story to a larger male holding a greatsword, who looked as if he was trying his best to ignore the man’s antics. Nyx’s back hit the door as it closed behind him, the thought crossing his mind that he should wait outside for the three to finish when I man’s voice made the glaive jump. “May I help you?” He hadn’t noticed the sandy blond sitting against the wall, and he gave Nyx no time to respond as aqua eyes widened in recognition. “You are the glaive sent to train his highness, correct?”“Yes,” Unsure of who the man before him was, he showed the proper respect and bowed. It was better to play it safe in such circumstances. “the King has sent me, I am…”“Nyx Ulric.” The tone was playful and instantly caught his attention as Nyx responded to his name, looking back towards the three. Noctis had risen from his spot on the floor, and as their gaze met there was a turn to those lips that made him look innocently sinful. Those dark eyes he had witnessed so many years ago were alive, powerful, flickering like fireworks in the night sky and held a promise of mischief to come. The glaives breath caught, and a dark brow arched in recognition. “You are him, are you not? Nyx Ulric?” He knew at that moment that those eyes, that smile, this man… would be his downfall. If he’d been smart he would have run, knelt before the King once again, and begged pardon for failing him so soon. Unfortunately, Nyx had never been one for self-preservation. Instead, he bowed as a smirk pulled at his own lips. “Yes, little prince. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

):{°•|○|•°}:(

#nyxnoct #noctis lucis caelum #nyx ulric #ffxv fan fic #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv fic #logicdive #logicdive writes #forget me not fic #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #titus drautos #regis lucis caelum #clarus amicitia #ignis scentia

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talabib · 6 years

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Leadership Journey: John Law

In the 1980s, yuppies began to flood the streets of New York and financial centers across the globe. They flashed their cash, wore designer clothes, showed off mobile phones and drove around in Italian sports cars.

That era remains the archetype of excess in modern eyes. Since then, economic bubbles, greedy bankers and a reckless banking industry have become a part of the public consciousness, with the most recent financial crisis standing as a fresh reminder.

As you’ll learn from this post, such cycles are nothing new. In the early eighteenth century, France witnessed a similar economic bubble that introduced the world to several aspects of modern finance. This important development was all thanks to one man: the gambler-turned-money-spinner John Law.

Although Law’s empire of wealth would eventually come tumbling down, several of his notions regarding economics and growth stimulation remain with us to this day. This is the story of Law’s rise from young dueling dandy to economic oracle.

The central principles that guide the world of banking have been around for a long time.

Can you imagine a world without banking or credit? While it might seem impossible to conceive of, the fact is that the banking system as we know it, one with credit and borrowing at its heart, is a relatively new configuration.

Ancient Babylon had a form of banking, we know that paper money circulated in China in the seventh century BC and that there were stalls and counters in the Greco-Roman world where money could be lent and exchanged. But the foundations of modern banking really began to develop in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

This shift is associated with Italian cities, and with the Republic of Genoa in particular. In fact, it's from the Italian language that we get the word “bank,” since the “banco” was the table where transactions took place. But as trade expanded, as new lands were colonized and as monarchs’ lifestyles grew ever more extravagant, the old banking system simply stopped working.

This new world of commerce, however, was not built with material money and precious metals, but was instead formed by a complex system of credit.

Credit can be a wonderful thing, but, as we know from the recent banking crisis, credit only works when there is trust. In the seventeenth century, this trust was created by banks having money in their vaults as collateral.

Once these physical reserves were established, the idea of paper money took off. Banknotes could circulate while a limited amount of gold coins with real value could be kept in reserve.

In theory, you could take your paper money to the bank and exchange it for real currency. But such a financial system inherently depends on trust and political stability; it simply would not sustain the rush on the banks that would occur if everyone demanded to exchange their bills.

It was in this changing world that a figure emerged who would bring fresh ideas to the field of economics: John Law.

The Law family were dealt a poor hand, but John eventually came up trumps.

John Law came from a Scottish clerical family. They were a liberal family unsuited to rural living and eventually moved to Edinburgh, which at that time was a poor city.

Having struggled through a life of poverty, John Law's grandfather encouraged his sons to learn a trade and become goldsmiths. John’s father, William, heeded his own father’s advice and became a successful smith; his marriage to the daughter of a prosperous merchant only expanded his wealth and horizons. William would eventually come to purchase his own castle near the Firth of Forth.

At a time when everything looked rosy, tragedy struck. William was diagnosed with bladder stones and died in 1688 during a medical procedure. John inherited a considerable fortune, and already well-schooled, he chose to take part in big city life and moved to London rather than attend university.

London, the largest city in Europe, had plenty of attractions to offer him – women and gambling among them. London played an important role in shaping Law’s personality and ideas. He lived off the winnings from his gambling, and his mathematical talents became an especially valuable asset. In turn, gambling became his entry ticket into society.

Law was a not life without risks. Although he was generally successful, he did occasionally run into trouble. For example, in 1692, before he had even turned 21, he was faced with the prospect of incarceration for outstanding debts. But he got lucky – he was able to recoup the necessary funds by selling the family estate, which he had inherited after his father’s death, to his mother.

This incident was a watershed. While he didn’t give up gambling, from that point on he only did so when applying his considerable mathematical talents. Guided by his understanding of probability and its role in card games, Law only played when he was sure he could win.

It was in febrile dandified dens that Law honed his skills, and the knock-on effects weren’t only to his immediate financial advantage; these exploits soon piqued his interest in the new science of economics.

Young John Law lived fast, treading a fine line between success and failure.

The hustle and bustle of seventeenth-century London was not without its dangers – it was a world of fops and dandies challenging each other to duels. In 1694, Law found himself in this very situation with Edward Wilson, an infamous dandy, for reasons we still don't know.

Wilson was killed and his influential family pressed for a murder charge, even though Law, who was attacked first, should technically only have been charged with manslaughter at most. He was nonetheless found guilty of murder, sentenced to death and imprisoned in Newgate prison to await execution. At a second attempt, Law managed to escape to Amsterdam.

Law’s London life had brought him to within a hair’s breadth of death. But now, on the continent, it became clear that this experience had prepared him well.

He was able to stay afloat by gambling as he made his way across Europe. While living in France, he also met his eventual partner, Katherine, who at the time was the wife of a French nobleman. Katherine stayed with Law for the rest of his life.

Law’s interest in economics did not subside. He immersed himself in its study and began to refine his ideas. Law believed that the countries of Europe had become far too dependent on the exploitation of raw materials for generating wealth. He was convinced that the introduction of paper money would stabilize these economies.

Law laid out his ideas in a 120-page pamphlet in 1705, but it met with a lukewarm reception. In 1704, after ten years on the continent, Law beseeched the new Queen of Great Britain, Queen Anne, for a pardon so that he could return to his homeland; he wanted more than anything to test out his theories on the Scottish economy. But, since his plea was unsuccessful, he turned elsewhere: France.

In France, John Law found an ideal context to put his economic theories into practice.

The year was 1705 and Law had set his sights on France as a suitable country upon which to test his ideas. There was just one problem: Britain was at war with France, and Law, stuck in Holland, could not reach Paris.

Undeterred, Law sent his ideas to Nicolas Desmarets, the King’s finance minister. Law had chosen France for good reason; the country was in an extraordinary amount of debt, about 2 billion livres – that’s roughly $11.7 billion in today’s money.

Law saw increasing the supply of money as a potential solution. By doing so, he thought, the economy could be stimulated. More taxes could be collected, the debt could be reduced and investment increased.

Law’s confidence in paper money would come to play a key role; there simply wasn’t enough gold and silver in France to manage the debt.

The plan was truly revolutionary and France would become the first economy to run on paper money. In 1715, Law’s plans fell into place. Philippe, Duke of Orleans and regent to the new king, Louis XV, was receptive to Law’s ideas. Law acted quickly, but was met with some resistance, including from the Duke of Noailles, President of the Finance Council.

Law’s response was seen as outrageous at the time: in 1716 he founded a private bank, the Banque Générale. At the same time, the Duke of Noailles took his own radical measures. He reduced the amount of precious metal in the national coinage and cut interest rates. Panic spread quickly and the real value of salaries started to shrink.

Law’s bank offered a solution, but he was treated with suspicion because of his gambling history. Even so, traders started to warm to paper money. It had a fixed value and could be exchanged for its face value in gold at any time.

In short, this new paper money came to be trusted, and the French economy began to grow on the back of this innovative concept.

John Law set about making France the economic powerhouse of Europe.

The introduction of paper money to France was an unmitigated success, but Law wanted to push his economic ideas further. In particular, he looked to France's possession in North America, Louisiana, a district which stretched from the mouth of the Mississippi River deep into modern-day Canada.

All of France’s costly overseas endeavors had met with little success. Law identified the root of this problem as persistent underinvestment, and began formulating a plan to generate funds. Law set about transforming his private bank into a state bank, the Banque Royale, and obtained funds by issuing billets, a type of state bond. The money rolled in and, soon enough, Law had enough funds to invest across the Atlantic.

Law’s plan hinged on reinvesting this money. In 1717, he bought the Mississippi Company with the money he had acquired through the Banque Royale's bond-issuing scheme.

His aim was simple: he wanted to monopolize trade. Consequently, the Mississippi Company bought out the rival Company of the East Indies and Company of China, and also began to muscle in on the tobacco trade from Senegal.

To say Law’s ideas were a success would be an understatement; the value of shares in the Mississippi Company rose sharply and, by July 1719, Law was able to buy the Royal Mint. By autumn of that year, his position was unassailable. He offered to take over the state debt of 1.2 billion livres at an interest rate of three percent, and paid a further 53 million livres for tax collection rights.

Law’s expenditure financed the issuing of more shares in the Mississippi Company. Their value, in turn, skyrocketed. It was a phenomenal economic boom that seemed unstoppable. What’s more, it had all been made possible by Law’s insistence on the value and potential of paper money.

John Law's success enriched many and was seen as an economic miracle.

By 1719, Law had created in the Mississippi Company what seemed like an unstoppable wealth-creating machine. He was a celebrated figure and stories of successful investors abounded, many of whom became celebrities in their own right. But paired with this success was a certain amount of speculation, and prices ballooned. For example, at the time in France, just one chick could cost as much as half the average monthly salary of a craftsman.

In the midst of this madness, the term “millionaire” was first coined to describe those who had enriched themselves through the Mississippi Company. Law then started to branch out and encourage foreign investment. This was particularly important, as the system of paper money needed to be supported by real coinage kept in banks. More foreign coinage would mean more French banknotes could be printed. However, this strategy was heavily criticized: it led to ever-increasing amounts of credit being issued.

By the second half of 1719, the results were plain to see: a bubble had formed and the share prices of the Mississippi Company had risen twentyfold.

Law’s star was in the ascendancy. People came from all over to speak with him, and he became a true celebrity. He was also awarded honorary membership to the Academy of Sciences. Despite all this attention and newfound celebrity, Law kept his feet on the ground; he invested carefully, especially in property, and devoted himself to streamlining the tax system, an especially weak point in France’s bureaucratic structure.

The year 1719 had been one of tremendous accomplishments for Law, and it was capped off by his appointment as Controller-General of Finances in 1720. But just as his star was shining brightest, the clouds began to gather.

The vulnerabilities in John Law's economic system became more and more obvious.

At the start of 1720, Law was on top of the world and the prospect of further enrichment through the Mississippi Company’s success seemed assured.

Investors had flocked to invest in the company’s putative accruement of wealth in Louisiana – but the scheme turned out to be no more than snake oil. The expected rich seams of gold and silver ores were never found, the land was infertile and the indigenous peoples remained resistant.

Before long, the share prices of the Mississippi Company leveled off. Unfortunately, the fate of France’s entire economic system, now based on trust in paper money, was by this point inextricably tied to the company’s success.

Any dip in the fortunes of the Mississippi Company would potentially spread, and from the end of 1719 onwards, the company’s major shareholders began to drop out. People also began to take coinage out of the country, fearing the increasing likelihood that others would start trying to exchange their worthless paper money for hard currency.

Law was in a bind and set about imposing desperate measures. He banned the export of coins, and when people tried to exchange them for other valuables, including diamonds, Law forbade the wearing of diamonds.

It was a race to the bottom that Law could never win. By the time Law had banned every other form of currency except banknotes, he had suffered a breakdown. Yet more notes were printed until the amount in circulation between January and May 1720 doubled to 2.6 billion livres, or about $15.2 billion in modern-day funds.

By December, Law was denounced as a charlatan as he cast aside the fundamental tenet of his economic system: he unilaterally devalued paper money by half.

The angry mobs swelled and seethed, and Law’s decisions were quickly revoked. Soon thereafter, he was ignominiously removed from his post as Controller-General of Finances and placed under house arrest.

John Law’s economic ideas were eventually condemned and he died in poverty.

Within a matter of months, John Law’s life had been turned upside down – but his house arrest did not last long. Upon his release, he formulated a fresh plan to stabilize the economy and was reinstated as Controller-General of Finances. But it was too late. Confidence in the local economy had been lost and people were rushing to the banks to exchange paper money for coins. There was nothing Law could do to salvage the situation.

By October 1720, the writing was on the wall; the next month, the system of paper money that Law had established would cease to exist. It was also the end of the Mississippi Company. Already close to bankruptcy, when the sea trade stalled because of an outbreak of the plague, it was clear that the company’s days were numbered.

Enough was enough, and Law wanted out. He made his way with his son to Holland and Italy, but his wife and daughter were not granted permission to leave France. He was penniless and there was nothing that could be done.

Although he was eventually allowed to return to Great Britain, this was of little recompense. Katherine was still unable to leave France and the powers there had no interest in helping them or letting Law return.

After all, the scale of the consequences of Law’s economic planning had by this point become quite clear, with half a million people claiming losses from shares and banknotes. It was an undignified end for Law himself, who fell ill and died, never to be reunited with his wife.

Even so, Law’s ideas did not die with him. France may not have circulated paper money for the next hundred years, but it is now a core aspect of modern economies. Likewise, his approach to raising investment through the issuing of shares remains a cornerstone of modern finance.

Law’s ambitious plans may have failed in his lifetime, but the dreams of this crafty gambler and creative economic strategist live on in every corner of the world.

The use of paper money as a cornerstone of modern economic systems has its roots in ideas first put forth by John Law. Law’s life story shows not only the downsides of modern economic systems based on paper money, but also its inherent value. While paper money can trigger economic booms, rapid downturns and economic chaos, modern economies would not run nearly as smoothly without it.

#john law

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maier-files · 7 years

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New Post has been published on The Maier Files

New Post has been published on http://the.maier-files.com/the-phenomenon-of-resonance/

The Phenomenon of Resonance

Let us take as an hypothesis, as Callum Coats in his book about Viktor Schauberger proposes, that the Ur-original source of energy is a radiant emanation from the Cause of Causes, from “God”, or better still, from the Eternally Creative Intelligence (ECI) to avoid any gender implications. As in the Eleusinian mysteries schools it’s called the Goddess. Of necessity an entity such as this ECI must constantly create on the process of Its own evolution. Energy might then be viewed as an expression of the Will-To-Create, as the agency through which the ideas of the ECI become manifest. “Creation, Energy and life itself becomes a Triumph of the Will.”

As a form of energy, sound has long been attributed a form-creating capacity, indeed in the Christian religion the coming into being of the world was ascribed to the ‘Word’ of God; in the Hindu religion to the ‘Beat’ of Rama’s drum; in modern scientific parlance, to the ‘Big Bang’, all of which are sound phenomena. Prayers, chanting, Indian ragas, the uttering of mantras are believed to produce various effects, some of which are as concrete in formas illustrated in cymatics. If you may wonder what Cymantics are, Cymatics originates from Greek: κῦμα, meaning “wave”, and it is a subset of modal vibrational phenomena. The term was coined by Hans Jenny (1904-1972), a Swiss follower of the philosophical school known as anthroposophy. Typically the surface of a plate, diaphragm or membrane is vibrated, and regions of maximum and minimum displacement are made visible in a thin coating of particles, paste or liquid. Different patterns emerge in the excitatory medium depending on the geometry of the plate and the driving frequency.

A good example and demonstration is this video of John Telfer:

[vc_video link=’https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sThS9OfnM1s’]

We are living in a world of waves, and sound is a wave. Now, that sound also has an effect on the quality of a structure, organic or otherwise, is also subconsciously reflected in the English language. English speakers say that a structure is ‘sound’ or ‘unsound’, meaning that it is either safe or unsafe. Similarly a person is said to be of ‘sound’ or ‘unsound’ mind, reflecting their creative or destructive tendencies. The city of Jericho was supposedly destroyed by destructive sound resonances. In his book The Secret Power of Music David Tame makes a convincing case that the fall of great civilisations was always preceded by the degeneration of popular music. What long-term effect the ceaseless bombardment of the body’s very sensitive, electrically charged cells by the veritable salad of electromagnetic emissions in the way of high-tension cables, radio, television, radar, microwave ovens, cellphones, etc. has on the overall health is a matter for serious guesswork.

Thus sound or resonance does seem to be associated with creative or destructive phenomena. Resonance is the free transfer of energy or the sympathetic vibration between one system and another without loss, and is the function of mutually precisely harmonically related frequencies. As such, it and the phenomena, physical or otherwise, that it produces, are the result of the periodic repetition of a given number of impulses, which can be categorised as vibration, oscillation, or rotational periodicity.

This can be also found in the works of the forest caretaker Viktor Schauberger – Harmony and resonance are prerequisites for growth and development; lower stages of harmony in the form of lesser individualities providing the firm and stable substructures upon which the higher structures are built. Mr. Schauberger was also convinced that The Eternally Creative Intelligence is everywhere at once, and creates all the various levels of existence through the formation and concentration of life-force into harmonic vortices of matter from its infinite ocean of energy.

Even Johann von Goethe was very much aware of this is evident from the following poem:

All things into one are woven, each in each doth act and dwell As cosmic forces, rising, falling, charging up this golden bell, With heaven-scented undulations, piercing Earth from power Sublime. Harmonious all and all resounding, fill they universe and time! Amidst life’s tides in raging motion, I ebb and flood – waft to and fro! Birth and grave, eternal ocean, ever-moving, transient flow. A changing, vibrant animation, the very stuff of life is mine, Thus at the loom of time I sit and weave this living cloth divine.

In Its universe, therefore, there is no energy crisis! (Another hint to the “free”-Energy)

In Callum Coats book Living Energies (Viktor Schaubergers Brilliant work explained), one can find this remarkable tidbit about the number 29 and resonance popped up. 29 seems to have some strange affinity with the Earth and the planetary system. Some peculiar coincidences shows up, which are perhaps worthy of note …

Interesting isn’t it?

Another interwoven link we encounter with the always returning Apollo themes see other posts. In the end all will come together …

An excerpt from the Orphic Hymn 34: O Delion king, whose light-producing eye views all within, and all beneath the sky; whose locks are gold, whose oracles are sure, who omens good revealest, and precepts pure; hear me entreating for he human kind, hear, and be present with benignant mind; for thou surveyest this boundless aither all, and every part of this terrestrial ball abundant, blessed; and thy piercing sight extends beneath the gloomy, silent night; Beyond the darkness, starry-eyed, profound, the table roots, deep-fixed by thee, are found. The world’s wide bounds, all-flourishing, are thine, thyself of all the source and end divine. ‘Tis thine all nature’s music to inspire with various-sounding, harmonious lyre: now the last string thou tunest to sweet accord, divinely warbling, now the highest chord; the immortal golden lyre, now touched by thee, responsive yields a Dorian melody. All nature’s tribes to thee their difference owe, and changing seasons from thy music flow: hence, mixed by thee in equal parts, advance summer and winter in alternate dance; this claims the highest, that the lowest string, the Dorian measure tunes the lovely spring: hence by mankind Pan royal, two-horned named, shrill winds emitting through the syrinx famed; since to thy care the figured seal’s consigned, which stamps the world with forms of every kind. Hear me, blest power, and in these rites rejoice, and save thy mystics with a suppliant voice.”

#cover-up #cymatics #Flying saucer #phenomena #Resonance #Waves

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