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madhyanas · 3 years

Text

a strumming of nerves

“Take it,” Din whispers, hissing between his teeth. He’s pleading. “Take it, destroy it. Anything. Just don’t leave me alone with it.”

Read this on AO3!

Characters: Din Djarin & Boba Fett

Rating: T/PG-13

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/Ratings: Post-S2. Boba Fett POV. Haunted Darksaber/Din’s Haunted AU. Sleepwalking. Implied possession. Not horror, but creepy vibes for sure.

Notes: this au was originally created by @keldabekush, @kyberpistol and others! i’m just messing around with it. good luck trying to parse through this one lads idk how it’ll go

masterlist

———

There’s a noise keeping Boba awake.

It’s a thrumming. Quiet enough to settle into the background, seep into the rocky palace walls, it’s almost innocent. He could almost mistake it for the whine of some desert gnat that snuck in underground.

Almost.

But in the months since he and his companions have settled here, lying awake and staring at the ceiling of his palace quarters has never invited such a sick feeling to his stomach. It’s not nausea — he’s well acquainted with that. Kamino, Geonosis, Coruscant, Tatooine. Nausea has followed him like a diseased shadow.

This is different. He calls it anticipation, for to hear a noise and feel fear is foolishness he’s long outgrown.

The noise doesn’t get louder. The snaked, coiled thing growing in the pit of his stomach gets heavier, and heavier.

Just as he feels he may be crushed into the soft sheets by whatever waking night-terror has decided to sit on his chest, Boba sits up. In fact, he gets out of bed, swings his legs over the edge to touch the chilly stone floor, and steps outside. He’s always preferred doing things, anyway.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary as Boba stares out into the empty throne room. Thin, slivered shadows and hollow caverns. There’s nothing besides that kriffing noise, he thinks sourly, tiredly, before he turns his head.

Someone is standing in the hallway.

Danger.

At first he doesn’t believe it. A simple silhouette that Boba can barely make out in the dark. Something about it doesn’t quite seem real, as if that same waking night-terror hasn’t yet been rubbed from his eyes. Boba blinks. Its outline is blurry, encircled by a slim ring of darkness and seeming to shift in and out of focus. Moonlight doesn’t touch the shape, doesn’t even creep near.

Boba doesn’t approach either. Not even when he recognises the figure. The shoulders, the stance. He can feel in his bones that in the inky blackness hides a scruffy jaw and sad, weathered eyes. “Djarin?”

Din does not respond. He continues to stand there, staring silently down at the floor, which throws the figure’s identity into question because Din is polite to a fault. Fennec had laughed about it when they’d first met the man; a bounty hunter with manners.

What’s wrong with the figure, Boba realises, is that it’s still. Too still. He squints. His eyes aren’t what they used to be, and it’s dark, but he doesn’t think ‘Din’ is… breathing.

The very wrongness of the situation has his fingers twitching for a weapon that isn’t there.

Boba is beginning to think he should have carried a blaster.

“Din,” he calls, more urgently. “What are you doing?”

Silence, again. A sudden gust of wind whistles outside the window, churning sand against rocky architecture. It scrapes.

Boba’s frown deepens. This isn’t right.

The figure then turns — though that isn’t the right word for the movement. It’s a kind of swaying, as if the body can’t quite settle its centre of gravity and settles for a light, weightless bobbing around a fixed point. Almost like dangling. There is no rustling of cloth, no scrape of foot against sandstone floor.

Against his better judgement, Boba glances down. Both of the figure’s feet are flat on the ground.

Of course, his rational mind whispers. What were you expecting?

This ‘Din’, still standing at the other end of the hallway, now faces him directly. And gripped tightly in his left hand is the source of that infernal thrumming.

The Darksaber. Ignited and ready for battle, as it always has been.

Now, technically, pointed at Boba. The figure doesn’t turn away. The light it gives off is sickly, splattering Din’s shirt with the same strange, inverse not-glow the blade itself emanates.

It reminds him of a fish, of all things. One he’d read about, so many years ago. The type that suckers in prey with a shining, blinding light.

A throb in his temple makes itself known, winding the tension in his spine even tighter. When did the thrumming get so loud? It’s everywhere; it bites up his legs and punctures the soft spots between his ribs. A clawed hand crushing a spoilt fruit in its grasp.

Boba clenches his fists to stop himself from covering his ears, nails biting into the flesh of his palms. The sound is more piercing this time, with purpose and deadly aim.

Thick, oozing cold settles in his gut. There is only one possible target in this room.

It gets louder. And louder. It ebbs and flows like the tide but so much more vicious. It doesn’t stop; the noise simmers and bubbles and rings in his ears, resounding through the hallway so strongly it shakes his teeth to the tender, aching nerves and pounds at the insides of his skull. It’s swarming out from behind his eyes and it doesn’t stop, why can’t it stop — the Darksaber swings upwards, ready to strike the final blow — why is this happening he should take it—

“Din!”

The figure flinches. Boba’s shout is as good as a bullet. His shoulders heave with staggering breaths. His heartbeat pulses jaggedly at his throat and he’s panting; a cold, thin sheen of sweat is draped over the back of his neck.

The Darksaber is held high above Boba’s head. The crest of a wave, frozen. Then the blade retreats with a quiet whoosh before the hilt clatters to the ground. That’s the only reason Boba realises the thrumming has stopped.

It still doesn’t feel fixed. Nothing does.

The figure stumbles forward and Din’s haggard face is suddenly awash in a sliver of moonlight. He’s a puppet cut down from his strings, crumpling to the ground.

Boba is there to catch him. As it will be.

“Easy. What happened?” he questions gruffly, too preoccupied with checking the other man over for injuries to hear just how hoarse his voice is.

But whatever state he’s in, Din is worse. He stares at some point on Boba’s shoulder with glazed, unfocused eyes. The man is sweating buckets. “I... I don’t know.”

Din’s voice is soft, as Boba has come to expect, though not reassuring. It crackles and bursts to suggest there’s mucus sitting in his airways, spitting and popping like rotting fat thrown out to sizzle on Tatooine street corners.

Perhaps it is reassuring, then, to be holding his friend so limp in his arms like this. Because Boba knows what blood in the lungs sounds like, and the distinct lack of it anywhere in the musty hallway finally brings his racing pulse something close to calm.

Boba makes a slow, calculated move to rise from the floor and lift the other man with him, but Din flinches when he feels Boba’s shoulders tense. A flinch that dissolves into faint tremors wracking his body, which Boba is loath to ignore, but it also clears the fog from his gaze somewhat.

“I’m—” Din clears his throat and forces out a hard, sharp breath. “I’m fine.” He looks Boba in the eye. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“No, you’re not,” Boba returns dryly, though he can’t deny the weight that slips from his chest. Breathing, talking. Even with the tremors leaching from Din’s bones into his own, they’re good signs.

Din cracks a weak smile, which comes out more as a grimace. In any case, it doesn’t matter when it’s wiped away almost immediately as Din glances to the side.

Boba looks too. Next to the wall, the discarded hilt of the Darksaber stares back.

“Fett,” Din says gravely, keeping his eyes trained on the weapon. So gravely in fact, that Boba’s hackles rise. He’s speaking as if— as if his life depends on it.

“What?”

The fingers on Boba’s shoulder dig in tightly. “Take it,” Din whispers, hissing between his teeth. He’s pleading. “Take it, destroy it. Anything. Just don’t leave me alone with it.”

Boba is not a man easily surprised. But there is something inherently sickening in the crease of Din’s brow, anxious and abandoned. So much about all this is wrong.

He’s pallid, Boba realises. Din is shivering and sickly and sweaty like he’s in the slump of a fever. He’s still staring at that damned saber.

In the dark, they’re both kneeling on the ground. They are kneeling, technically, before the Darksaber itself.

And with a stubborn set of his jaw, Boba makes a decision.

He swings Din up from the ground, maintaining a stable hold on both arms and looping one round his own neck before either of them can topple back down.

“Right,” Boba barks, and Din’s head snaps up. “You’re going to get some sleep. And you’re leaving that blasted thing here.” His voice leaves no room for discussion.

As he marches them back to Din’s quarters, taking careful stock of any acute weaknesses in the other man’s posture and satisfied to find none for now, Din’s gaze remains forward. It latches onto the door with sharp, quiet focus, and the sight could make Boba grin.

The haunted look in his eyes is new territory. But determination; that, Boba can work with.

Walls of granite and sandstone are taller at night, it seems. Boba gets the fleeting sense that they’re boxed in on either side, in such narrow walkways, then shuns the thought. The palace is his territory. He has nothing to fear, here.

Still, he makes his way around the corners a touch quicker than before.

By the time they’ve gotten to Din’s door, neither of them have looked back once. It’s illogical, he knows. But they both look straight ahead without fail. As if that would keep the thrumming at bay. As if they feel the silence is any better.

Din takes a moment to push himself upright, testing his balance. “Thank you,” he says quietly. It’s sincere, which Boba can respect. He just doesn’t know what it’s for.

Settling on a nod, Boba suggests, “I’ll keep it in my quarters.” The empty sword still lies in the other corridor. “We’ll… figure things out in the morning.”

Din’s mouth flattens into a pained line, and a muscle jumps uncomfortably at his temple. Here, with a little more light, Boba can see the bags etched under the man’s eyes. He’s struck with the impression that this… sleepwalking, for lack of a better term, is not a recent development.

“Yeah,” Din mumbles. “In the morning.”

He eyes his cot as a starving man would a feast, but lingers at the boundary.

When Din speaks, Boba almost regrets waiting to hear it.

“I don’t know what it’s doing to me.”

The words are uttered with a familiar, resigned shame that drips to the floor. It puddles around Din in viscous trails, drooping his shoulders and shutting his eyes. Weighing him down for longer than a night, clearly.

“I don’t know anymore, Fett. Sometimes I can hear it talking to me. Talking. I think I might—” He wheezes out a sigh, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes as if to purge whatever he sees there.

A moment to collect himself, drag all the pieces together with string and a loose knot. Then, in a quiet, ragged voice, Din confesses, “I think I’m going insane.”

False platitudes have never come easily to Boba, and they don’t start now. His jaw is slack as he searches for the words, anything to fill that chasm, until he realises there aren’t any.

So he doesn’t say anything at all, save for a slow, sympathetic hand on Din’s shoulder. He stands with his friend.

And in the dark of the palace, Boba wonders if Din might be right.

———

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ahumansvoid · 4 years

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Obi-wan and Wish’s Caff

So, short story of Obi-wan and Wish’s Caff told from Omen’s perspective.

This could happen at any point within the Interviews Universe, before the Follow up, after it, idk whenever. So I’m posting it here because it’s just a sweet little story.

This story takes place in my Interviews Universe and Omen is introduced in the third installment of the series Obi-wan is Not Happy

Story is under the cut.

Characters: Omen- Clone OC, Juniper - Clone OC, Obi-wan Kenobi

Words: 1279

Something was wrong.

General Kenobi was drinking tea out of a thermos.

That wasn’t unusual.

But one of the shinies had delivered it to him.

That was.

General Kenobi was very particular about his Tea. He would drink any the Troopers brought him, but the General really only trusted himself, Admiral Kitos and Commander Cody to brew it properly.

And after getting his tea, the General had said ‘Just as I requested. Thank you.’

Which meant he requested a Shiny to bring him tea.

Which was wrong.

Omen should probably be paying attention to the battle plan, but this was bugging him.

“Hey General?” Juniper calls, disturbing the meeting, “What kind of tea are you drinking?”

General Kenobi looked confused but answered, “Black.”

Juniper nods and switches to internal comms, ”He is not drinking Black Tea.”

Omen, also on internal comms, asks, “The Fuck do you mean?”

”Look at the Generals face when he drinks it, the vague disgust and displeasure, he only looks like that when he drinks something General Yoda gives him. It doesn’t matter how bad a shinies tea is, he never makes that face. Especially when he’s drinking Black Tea. He has a more content look.” Juniper explains.

It takes a lot not to look over at Juniper, because What the fuck?

“And you know this shit how?” It was nice that Omen wasn’t the only one seeing something wrong. But that was weird.

”Look we all have things to keep ourselves sane. Mine just happens to be tracking the General’s reactions to Tea. Why would he lie about what Tea he’s drinking?” Juniper asks, pulling the conversation back on topic.

Omen looked around the bridge and saw the shiny who had given General Kenobi his tea hanging by the door. ”Give me a sec.” Omen walked over to the Shiny and pulled him out into the hall away from the Bridge, and switched off internal comms. “Did you brew the tea you gave to General Kenobi?”

“No.” The Shiny shrugs.

“Who did?”

“Wish.”

Omen almost had a conniption.

That conniving little fuckwit.

Omen is making that bastard do a million pushups.

Seriously Wish?

“Does General Kenobi know?”

“He asked me to get Wish to brew him Black Tea using caff in place of water.”

…

Omen bangs his head against the wall.

Fuck.

Of course the General would do that.

For fucks sake.

Omen groans and heads back onto the bridge, removing his helmet as he does. He makes a beeline for the General and pulls the Tea Thermos out of his hands. The General, not expecting it, allows it to happen. And then looks at Omen shocked.

Well, the entire bridge is looking at Omen shocked.

He doesn’t really care.

“The Hell Omen?” Cody calls.

“Who made your tea General?” Omen asks, ignoring Cody. He sniffed it, it smelled like any other Black Tea. Despite the copious amounts of caff in it. Weird.

“Wha- A shiny did at my request.” General Kenobi was an impressive actor, Omen could give him that. “May I have it back?”

“Just leaves and water?”

“Yes.”

Omen keeps eye contact with General Kenobi as he takes a drink of the thermos.

And immediately after swallowing it coughs into his arm. “The fuck General?” Omen feels the Tea Thermos being taken out of his hand but he doesn’t really care.

That’s not just tea brewed with caff. That’s caff brewed with caff brewed with caff brewed with caff concentrate.

The fuck Wish? No wonder he banned from making Caff.

“It’s tea.”

“It has Wish’s caff in place of water.” Omen honestly felt closer to death now than he ever did on the battle field. The General was planning on drinking that entire thermos?

“What?!”

General Kenobi cleared his throat, “Enough about my drink, we were discussing siege plans?”

No one responded. Everyone on the bridge was just looking at General Kenobi with a mix of horror and concern.

“Sir,” Cody starts, “When was the last time you slept?”

“That’s not really relevant.”

“Well, unless you tell us, I’m afraid I’ll have to change our course and inform Master Unduli we won’t be able to assist.” Admiral Kitos states.

“Wha- but Luminara-”

Admiral Kitos raised an eyebrow, “Then you best tell us when you last slept.”

Omen had never seen General Kenobi look so offended. “It really is none of your concern.”

Admiral Kitos nods, “Very well. Private Honu, drop us from hyperspace ASAP and change our destination, Private Mund please ready a message to send to General Unduli about us being unable to assist.”

“Wha- No! Hold on. Belay all of that.” Both Privates hesitate. Kitos outranks General Kenobi. But they’re supposed to obey the Jedi.

“Are you ready to tell us when you last slept?”

“Technically-”

“Slept. Not meditated.” Omen nearly laughed when the General expression turned to an annoyed pout.

He huffs a sigh, “Eighty hours ago.”

“Private Honu how long until we arrive?”

“Two hours sir!”

Admiral Kitos nods, “Master Kenobi, go nap. We will wake you when we have a 30 minutes ETA, and brief you.”

“No. I will-”

Admiral Kitos ignores General Kenobi’s protests, “Captain Omen, Lieutenant Juniper, take General Kenobi to his quarters. If he refuses to rest, take him to the med bay.”

“Yes sir!” Omen and Juniper chorus. Omen pops his helmet back on then grabs the Tea Thermos from General Kenobi, handing it over to Cody before grabbing the General’s arm and physically guiding him off the bridge, Juniper grabbing his other arm.

“Is this necessary? I don’t believe I’m being arrested.”

“We just want to make sure you get to your rooms sir.”

“I really don’t need to. I am perfectly fine.” General Kenobi protests.

”Med bay?” Juniper asks over internal comms.

”Call up Scream.” Omen shifts their course from General Kenobi’s rooms to the medbay.

The General, upon realizing where they were going dug in his heels, “Nononono, we’re supposed to be going to my room!”

“Only if you agree to rest sir. You seem against it.” Omen and Juniper continue to pull the General along.

“I’ll rest in my room!”

“It seems safest to guarantee your rest by taking you to the medbay.”

Omen had never heard his General whine before. “Noooooo”

“You’d think we’re taking him to his execution.” Juniper notes.

” Well. Considering our medics, we kind of are.”

The General continues to dig his heels in and whine, clearly unhappy.

Really, he should’ve thought of this before he stayed up for eighty hours.

This is his own fault.

Scream was unimpressed when Omen and Juniper showed up with a General who was clearly trying to get away from the pair. Scream shook his head and grabbed a short-term sedative. “Honestly General, eighty hours?”

General Kenobi had the decency to look reprimanded and guilty at the very least.

But something pushed Omen, to be a little petty, for no clear reason.

Maybe because the General accidentally kicked him when trying to getaway.

Or because the General threw him off a cliff during their last mission.

Well, really it wasn’t even petty. As a medic, Scream should know, right?

Regardless, Omen opted to be (potentially) a little petty by informing Scream, “He was also drinking Black Tea brewed with Wish’s caff in place of water.”

…

Omen did not think it was possible for General Kenobi to look more betrayed. Scream looked outright pissed.

Oh no.

“We’ll leave you to it.” Juniper says, pulling Omen out of the medbay and down the hall before Scream starts shouting. Omen couldn’t make out any words but it was loud.

…

He didn’t feel all that bad about informing Scream.

#Obi-wan Kenobi #my writing #Interviews AU #Clone OCs #Probably crack #Obi-wan is not healthy #He needs help

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randomfandomimagine · 4 years

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Amazing ‘The Amazing Devil’ Things (Horror and the Wild)

I need to fangirl for a little because I absolutely love The Amazing Devil and I was so excited for the new album, and it did not dissapoint!! They put so much love and passion into this and it is art! I have been saving a bit of money and since their music makes me so happy I might buy the album. I wanted to talk about my favorte things about it under the cut (warning: it’s long). If anyone wants to listen to this piece of art, they posted it on Bandcamp here :D

The Rockrose and the Thistle

The sound of wind in the background, such a cool little detail!

Joey’s soft voice and how it breaks on ‘thistle’, omg

The sewing metaphor, I absolutely love it!

Madeleine subtly joining in 😍

The atmosphere! How unsettling and moving the song is

‘The kindest thing is to never leave you alone’

The Horror and the Wild

I thought I couldn’t love this song more and then came the studio version

I am a nerd and have so much fun singing this one!!

Even if it’s almost impossible to sing both their parts hahah

The beginning reminds me of Led Zeppelin’s Kashmir and I love it!

Some lyrics I trully adore, like:

‘You’re the words I promise I don’t mean’

‘and I am Time itself, I slow to let you play, I steal the hours and turn the night into day’

The change after ‘remember me I ask, remember me I sing’

How they move on to the chorus using a similar sounding word

‘Give me back my heart you wingless thing / think of all the horrors’

I absolutely adore how they sing ‘wild’ in this version

How Joey’s voice raises with ‘the’ and ‘your’ in the chorus

‘Fret. Not. Dear. Heart. Let. Not. Them. Hear’ and the drums!!

Joey singing that growly ‘remember me’

Then what is probably my favorite part of the song:

Just how cool it sounds, how fun it is to sing along, the awesome lyrics…

Fret not dear heart, let not them hear

The mutterings of all your fears, the fluttering of all your wings

Welcome to the storm, I am thunder,

Welcome to my table bring your hunger

The repetition of ‘old man’ and how the song slightly fades at the end

Wild Blue Yonder

How upbeat it is!! Catchy and fun rhythm!

When they sing ‘wonder’ and ‘yonder’ together

‘Hold’ (pause) ‘this time we’re done for’ 👏

‘So hold me like you used to, so tight I’d bruise you’

Everytime they use the word ‘love’ I melt

Or ‘dear heart’, ‘darling’ or anything like that, for that matter 😍

It is my absolute kryptonite, seriously!

‘All those books we both drowned’

‘I’m lost, I’m found, in you’

‘Can you hear that scratching’

‘robot vampire’…. just 😂

Madeleine’s voice when she sings the high ‘hide under the covers’

Welly Boots

One of my personal favorites!! (if you can’t tell)

The guitar!! Love that riff!!

The changes in tone, I love them so much

As many have said before, it reminds me of the Witcher episode 6

Just these lyrics!!

The change in rhythm after this last part!! So good!!

And I love you, don’t you know

That I’ll be with you all along, as long as you are kind

To those who are not strong and cannot find their scarlet welly boots

Cos when it’s cold

I’ll wrap my scarf around you

And when it’s hard

I’ll place your head into my hands

And when you scream that it’s not fair,

It’s like I’ve gone off to the coast

Left you behind just standing there

Pretending not to see your ghost

If only you could hear my voice

But you are screaming far to loud to hear me swear

Just because I left doesn’t mean that I’m not still there

The drums set the rhythm so well and I love them in this song especially!

‘But I’ll stick up for you, even though you haven’t got a clue, you haven’t got a fucking clue, And I’m so proud of you‘

Bonus points for Joey swearing 😂

‘I know you’re strong enough to do this on your own’

As always, Madeleine’s beautiful voice joining in 😍

‘Just when you’re about to give up every hope you have you turn around Perched by the stairs, someone’s gone and left behind, A brand new pair of scarlet welly boots’

That part hits me right in the feels and I can’t even tell why

The outro guitar riff, even if it makes me sad that it’s over

Farewell Wanderlust

THE PIANO FOLLOWED BY MADELEINE’S VOICE? I’M DEAD

THE SONG LITERALLY JUST STARTED, WTF? I’M IN LOVE

Joey’s voice lowly accompanying Madeleine’s

‘I’m the hardest goodbye that you’ll ever have to say’

Just… Madeleine’s voice, it’s too gorgeous, I can’t handle it!!

How the piano stops at ‘I’m the Jesus of wishing to Christ he’ll come back‘

The way she sings ‘She’s down. She’s dead’ and the piano? Aaaaah

Joey whispering the lyrics and then his voice gathering strength

‘I promise you I’m not broken, I promise you there’s more’ gets me every time 😭

The way Joey sings ‘adieu’ is amazing and I don’t know why?

When they sing the chorus together it’s too much!! Omg, this is art!

The fucking ending is so brilliant, perfect end to a perfect song!

The tune also reminds me of an Avenged Sevenfold song, ’Acid Rain’

Maybe it’s the piano? Idk, but it just moved me all the more

Because Avenged Sevenfold is one of my favorite bands 😚

So when favorite bands collide I just can’t even hahah 😊

Fair

Probably my favorite along with Welly Boots (this is gonna be long)

This one reminds me so much of my series Soul of a Warrior (Jasnissa!)

‘It’s what my heart just yearns to say, In ways that can’t be said’

The first lyrics and I am already in love with the words in this song

Let’s just assume I fell in love with every single word of this one

Joey’s voice is so beautiful to listen to, I am s w o o n i n g

‘And he holds her close just to keep the world at bay’

‘It’s not fair how much I love you’ 😱😍😭

I really love the guitar in this one too

Again, those lyrics!!! Absolutely captivating:

The way his voice kind of breaks a little sometimes when he lowers it

And if you asked me to, if you asked me I would lose it all

Like petals in a storm, cos darling I was born

To press my head between your shoulder blades at night when light is fading

Just to let you know I’m old, waylaid and feels like I am wading into

carpet burns and carousels oh Christ you’ll be the death of me

And calm throughout his melodrama she will turn and say ‘dear heart It’s me, its me

You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not

The Office reference and the ‘that’s what she said’? Joey, you nerd 🥰

Also, how he kind of laughs as he is saying it?

‘cos you make me ache you bastard’ aaaaaaaaah

That Unwanted Animal

This one gives me very specific vibes that I can’t identify

It’s like kind of medieval and dark but there’s something else

Still, I absolutely love them, this one is so unique!

When Madeleine whispers ‘you light the candle’, literal chills

Why is her voice so beautiful?! Stop it, ma’am, you are too powerful!

‘You try so loud to love me, But I cannot seem to hear’

The hushed ‘Throw the plate at the wall’ and the change? Amazing!

The vocals in the background are incredible!

More fanfastic lyrics, they never stop!

‘Be good to me, I whisper. And you say what. And I said nothing dear’

‘And these plates they smash like waves’ Battle Cries!!!

And you rip my ribcage open

And devour what’s truly yours

And our screaming joins in unison

I cry out to the lord

The lyrics never fail to amaze me, they are so damn good!

‘No, not I’ Joey? Sir, please, have mercy 😂

That ending with Madeleine’s voice and the drum and the guitar and the violin? *chef’s kiss*

Marbles

Again, knew this by heart because of the live version

And the studio version just improves it if that’s possible?

The instruments at the beginning already give me chills

And then Joey and Madeleine taking turns to sing? Ugh!

When the drum comes in I absolutely love it

I think this version is a bit slower than the live one? I like it!

It’s also softer, they’re almost whispering at the start 💗

‘And you’re the thigh high hemline I just can’t stop staring at’ is, for some reason, such a fun line to sing :)

‘The flat we rented was a palace for my queen’

‘She sang do you think I’m sexy? And oh god I really did’

‘You’re not flawed darling, you’re just a little under-rehearsed’

My favorite part, even if I can’t exactly say why:

This song just tells such a compelling story!

And I’d sink to the floor, what’s the point anymore,

And you, you’d reply with a glint in your eye

(And you, you’d reply with a drink in your hand)

Saying ‘I don’t know, but I’m here, I’m all yours, dear heart don’t cry’

THE CHORUS IS PURE LOVE, OKAY?

‘Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep but a place for crows to rest their feet’ is such a lovely thing?

More amazing lyrics:

How Joey holds the note in ‘day’ and shifts back into the chorus

I’ve loved you, for a hundred years

Certainly fucking feels like it

The minute I met you the colours of my life begun to pour

I’m scared of the dark

And now, even though you’re mad and these memories won’t stay, it’s okay.

Cos now I get to meet you for the first time every single day

This song also reminds me a bit of the Witcher and Jaskier

‘The crows feet are new‘

‘Are you perhaps short of a marble?!′

Again, they nail the ending with Madeleine’s beautiful vocals

Battle Cries

As always, the guitar sounds great!

Something they often do that I love is how they sing different lyrics at the same time, Joey and Madeleine singing together is my weakness

THE LYRICS!

‘After summers of fasting I feel hunger at last’

But that breathing you hear don’t mistake it for sighs

Don’t you realise - They’re just battle cries dear

And these lines aren’t wrinkles dear heart

Hardly knew the words

They’re just dollops of paint on a new work of art

I’m dolled up love don’t I deserve to just

And as I walk away I know I’ve been through the wars,

But that creaking you hear in my bones is not pain, it’s applause

‘Our devils broke rank, and out of the depths came an army’

With you I could summon the gods and the stars

Watch them dance out the plays that we wrote from the heart

And we’d laugh at the ghosts of our fears. We were kids.

‘This isn’t a break up, dear heart, it’s a season finale’

This one just gets me with the tune and the lyrics together!

All it took to unearth in the dust and the dirt

Some release or respite from the heat and the hurt

Was taking the time now and then to ask how I am

And now at the end, at the end of all things,

I’m not going to scream, beat my chest at the wind,

I’m doing fine.

Also, Madeleine’s beautiful melody before the chorus, omg!

To summarize, this album made such an impression on me. I literally don’t remember last time I connected so much with someone’s music. They are all such incredible people and talented musicians, and Joey’s lyrics just stayed in my heart, he’s so incredible!

#my fangirling got out of control for a bit there #the amazing devil #the horror and the wild #joey batey #madeleine hyland #if joey happened to like this post i will die of happiness #*would #but he probably won't hahah #i just want them to know how amazing they are! 😭#rant #random #fangirling #long post

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jaysdimples · 5 years

Text

Dirty Dishes (m)

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: smut, fluff (short lived), humor (?? idk, i'm not that funny in my opinion)

warnings: kitchen sex, unprotected sex (stay safe people! if you're gonna tap it, make sure to wrap it!), orgasm denial for like .2 seconds, light choking for half a second, female receiving oral, exhibitionism (mayhaps? i don't know)

word count: 1.5k

summary: when your boyfriend can't seem to keep his hands to himself so he stirs up a little trouble in the kitchen while everyone else is a few feet away in the next room

He let out a subtle smirk as you looked away from his searing gaze yet again. Taehyung couldn't manage to keep his hands to himself since the moment you both woke up that morning. You found yourself constantly removing his hands from your thighs as you ate breakfast with everyone. You wanted it, you wanted him. There was no denying that fact but not while the dorm was occupied by the rest of the guys, plus you were never one to give in to him easily. Where was the fun in that? You collected all the plates from the table, telling Jin that you would take care of the dishes. No doubt another ploy to distance yourself from the extremely handsy man you call your boyfriend. All the boys exited the kitchen and into the living room to watch Jimin and Ggukie argue over whether to watch tv or play video games. All except Taehyung, who leaned back in his chair at the table watching the way your body moved around the room. His hand rubbed at his lips as he surveyed your figure in front of the sink, clad in lounge shorts and one of his t-shirts.

You could feel his eyes on your body, feel the stare burning all over your skin. You ignored the lustful energy his body exuded as you continued your current task, or at least you tried. As you picked up the next plate to wash, you felt his hands grab your waist while his soft lips made contact with your neck.

"Tae, no. Everybody is in the next room, anybody can walk in." You whispered as his long fingers massaged your hip bone. "Hmm but you like the thought of that don't you babygirl? The fact that any of my brothers could just walk in and see how needy you are for me." You felt his chest shake as he let out a low chuckle. One of his hands traveled under your his shirt and onto your breast, playing with the erect bud as his other slid into your shorts to tease your clit. Your head fell back against his shoulder as you let out a moan. Taehyung's hand immediately stopped kneading your breast and covered your mouth, the other still playing with your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You shuddered as his lips kissed the shell of your ear before gently whispering, "You're going to have to keep your voice down for me doll. Unless you want to be caught?" He then nipped at your lobe, making you release a muffled gasp. "You think you can keep quiet for me baby?" Feeling you nod, he slid his hand down from your mouth to wrap it around your throat, lightly squeezing. He kissed your jaw, "That's my good girl."

Tae then bent you forward onto the counter next to the sink, lifting the shirt to leave kisses up and down your back. Pulling the shirt back down, Taehyung spread your legs. He pushed your torso down further so you were laying flat against the countertop. He pushed the shorts to the side, looking at your dripping core in hunger, eyes dialated. His large hands squeezed your thighs. He nibbled at the lips of your pussy, making you release a silenced scream. He chuckles softly before completely delving his tongue into your heat, finally creating the friction you needed. His tongue danced furiously against your clit. You moaned into your hand with every movement of his tongue, your other arm reaching back to allow your fingers to tangle in his faded mint hair and push him closer. He sucked at your clit, bringing you to the edge. Kissing the bud one last time, he withdrew your hand from his hair and pulled away.

Taehyung stood back up, completely removing your shorts in the process. He turned your panting figure around before picking you up and placing you on the counter towards the edge. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders as he leaned in closer, your noses touching. You leaned in to close the distance but Tae brought his head back, smirking as you whimpered and chased his lips. He lightly bit your bottom lip before whispering, "Now now, you didn't think I'd let you cum that easily did you, love?" His lips ghosting over yours as he spoke.

He then plants a soft passionate peck on your lips as he reaches into his sweats to release his throbbing cock. You look down in between your bodies and watch as Tae lightly strokes himself. His hand wraps around your lower back, pulling you even closer to the end of the countertop. He ran his tip up and down your slick folds causing you to bite your lip in order to stay quiet. After his slight teasing, Taehyung positioned himself at your entrance. You tightened your hold on him, burying your face in his neck as he completely sunk himself into you.

"Oh my god Tae." You whimpered at how good he filled you, how his thickness stretched you so perfectly. Your legs interlocked behind Tae's back, signaling that you wanted him to move. He slid back out leaving just the tip inside before snapping his hips and plunging himself deep into your heated cavern. You bit onto his shoulder, letting out a muffled scream.

"Fuck." Tae moaned under his breath. He rolled his hips into you at a deliciously slow pace, looking down to enjoy the view of his dick disappearing inside of you repeatedly. You whined as your hips rocked at a faster pace, trying to create more friction.

"Tae please, I need more." You begged in his ear, driving him mad. His hands then gripped your ass and lifted you slightly off the counter, speeding up his thrusts to accommodate your needs, hitting your g-spot in the process. You released a yelp that luckily went unheard due to the commotion made by the rowdy boys in the living room. He continuously pounded that sweet spot, your panting and moans spurring him on.

One hand held him close while the other pulled at his hair. "Oh god right there Tae." You panted, your breath caressing his ear. He growled in response. The grip on your ass increasing, his nails biting into your flesh as you began to clench around him.

"Shit you're close huh baby?" Taehyung panted. You moaned, the goal of keeping quiet lost in the searing pleasure you felt. "You gonna cum doll? Hm? Gonna cum right on my cock? Come on babygirl, let go for me." Tae coaxed you into your orgasm, clenching him even tighter. Not long after you came, Taehyung reached his high, emptying his seed into you with a loud groan in your neck.

Lifting his head, he pulled you into a breathless kiss. His hands came up and caressed the sides of your face as your lips disconnected. Resting his forehead against yours as you both continue to catch your breath, Tae stares into your eyes lovingly. "I love you." He whispered. You smiled, "I love you too." You basked in each other's embrace letting the comfortable silence of the dorm cover you both. But it didn't last long.

A loud shriek sliced through the air making you and Taehyung jump apart, knocking heads in the process. Tae rushed and put his dick back in his pants. Luckily for you, Taehyung's shirt was extra big on your body so all you had to do was close your legs so your goods weren't on display for everybody. You turned your head and saw the boys at the kitchen entrance. Jimin and Hoseok trying not to laugh but failing miserably. Yoongi keeping his laughter at bay but letting the amusement show on his face. Namjoon and Gguk frozen in shock. And the owner of the scream, Jin with a look of pure horror and annoyance. You brought your eyes back to your boyfriend, a look of sheer embarrassment on his face that you were definitely mirroring.

"Oh for fuck's sake, why in the kitchen?! That's what you have a room for! My god I'm gonna have to bleach and then torch this whole kitchen to get rid of your nasty ass bodily fluids. Ugh my sanctuary is TARNISHED!"

At that point, you and Tae couldn't help but laugh at the situation. You jumped off the counter, making sure nothing was flashed. Taehyung grabbed your hand and picked up your shorts, pulling you with him as he ran towards his bedroom so you both could escape Jin's wrath, leaving everyone in the kitchen. Once you were safely in his room, he locked the door. You looked at each other bursting into giggles as you got comfortable laying on the bed next to Tae.

"Oh my god what a way to end an eventful morning." You laughed. Suddenly Tae grabbed your hips and had you straddle his waist. "Who said the events had to end?" He smirked, bringing you down to meet his lips, starting another of many rounds that morning.

#bts smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #washing dishes anon #i hate that it took me 4.5 days to write 1.5k words sjdjjjfjgj #njssi #jaysdimples

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cookieek · 5 years

Note

🖊🖊🖊 tell me all about ur ocs!!! >:0

All of them??? Impossible.

I’ll just chose one of the small group that I have split them up in, let’s go with the horror workers. (I recently posted a list of fun facts about these characters on my art blog as well.)

So we have 5 oc’s in this group, there’s the lovecraft inspired dude David the corrupted one.(named David because the first few sketches had him kinda looking like David hasseloff from the broadway version of the Jekyll and Hyde musical.) He’s one tall and (hopefully) unsettling boy, that likes collecting weird stuff. My current idea for his backstory is that he started looking into some lovecraftian shit, got really obsessed in learning more about whatever it was, and then slowly started to try to “improve” himself so he could fathom all the weird shit, with slowly turned him into the abomination he is now. He’s also still very curious about everything, show him a modern car and watch as he looses his shit.

The sketch I posted bellow this was of him before the obsession, him currently and him trying to disguise himself as a human. He’s not very good at the whole disguise thing.

Second boy is one of the characters that doesn’t have a proper name yet! I just call him the zombie king for now. He’s a beardy boy, that’s also a talented scientist, also the last human alive in his dimension (oh right all of these characters are from separate dimensions, but they live ‘together’ now and work with each other),so he’s just a little bit crazy from only being able to talk to zombies (which didn’t talk back). He’s also way to willing to put himself in danger in the line for his science (with is basically anything that has to do with zombies, except for the magic stuff), he’s injekted himself with so much shit over the years it’s a suprise he still looks like a human. This means he does have some non human psychicall abilities, but don’t be fooled the dudes not a physical fighter, he can heal fast but a good hit to the head will still send him to bed.

Oh right, he also carries syringes with god knows what everywhere.

Now onto the other character that I don’t have a proper name for yet, the god slayer. So she’s clearly silent hill inspired, because I love silent hill, which also means I decided that some things she does follows video game logic (like having infinite pockets). The basic idea for her is, a girl that killed a cults god after the cult had fucked up shit for her, her family (and possibly close friends), think silent hill 3. But then her dimension started to go under for some reason right after, the power that rested in the town panicked and seeing that she was getting picked up to be saved from the failing dimension, pretty much jumped into her and made it’s home there. Which now means she will constantly oose the aura of that power unless she has a special bracelet keeping it at bay, and whenever she sleep she will visit the town inner dreams. I also guess that she’s kinda the god now? Idk. She’s actually pretty grounded as a person and like I said in the list I posted a while ago, she’s sometimes the only voice of reason I the entire group.

Hell yeah look, colours.

Ok, the fourth oc! Amaia the cursed bride. She’s very clearly based on old gothic literature and is very spooky. She used to be a singer, but then someone killed her and threw hr body into a bog. But then she came back. She’s full of black oose and can’t really speak because of that, as if she opens her mouth is will all stop pouring out, she can do very spooky stuff with the oose, but I’m not sure what it’s yet. She still likes to make noise, either with instruments or with really obnoxious things like air horns. She’s actually pretty ridiculous when you get to know her. On one hand she’s very eligante, beautiful and quiet, on the other hand she once took a big tuba and blew in it the hardest she could sending black oose everywhere and creating a ridiculous noise. She’s also just a very good friend.

Her colour pallet is basically just black, grey and red.

And finally, Diga the resurrectionist! This oc’s is really old, in multiple way’s, I have had her for so many years and also she’s at least 2000 years old in canon. She’s a grandmother and the rest of her team is her unruly children (metaphorically speaking), she’s also pretty grumpy very often. She does everything death related that has to do with magic and also is the teams inpromtu doctor. Full of snark, wants to bee seen as cold and stoic, but is really not. Raging bisexual in a dedicated relationship with an oc’s from another group. She keeps a bunch of ghost and they are also her unruly children. She dresses in a hoodie and sweatpants when in her human disguise. Has a long history with some dimensions but she absolutely refuses to speak about it.

Oh right, she is also very short and buff (kinda like another oc’s I have...) and she kinda looks like a goblin. Her scales are inspired by crocodiles. (Also her teeth) And she has some intense eyebrow game.

Oh yikes this thing got really long... I hope this was ok for you.

#my post #oc’s #my ocs #i love my children #i just noticed that the ask said all about your oc’s and not about all of your oc’s #in my defence i was very tired at the time

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femmeveined-a · 5 years

Note

📱 rachel & vic oof

📱( Accepting! )

RACHEL

May 7th, 2010

Rachel sprawled out on her bed, the night’s events turning over in her head as the sun rose over the trees. The concert had been the first time she and Chloe had really gotten close since they called a truce on their dislike of each other. Chloe already knew more about her than the kids at Blackwell, who only knew Rachel as whoever Rachel wanted them to think she was. Running into Chloe at the Old Mill had been completely out of Rachel’s control, and she couldn’t decide if she loved it or hated it. Groping at her sheets for a minute, her fingers grasped her phone, and she looked out the window as she tried to figure out what to say.

4:26 AM: i’m so amped up from last night i can’t sleep. would‘ve hella sucked without you, glad you decided i was cool enough to hang with, finally.

She weighed her options, mouth screwing up into a pucker. She’d flirted with Chloe all night, even over text after they’d parted ways. But she had to mix it up, keep it interesting. Deleting the text in seconds, she opened Instagram, posting the best picture she could find from the previous night, with the caption, “Firewalk with me ;)”

July 24th, 2011

Rachel jumped a mile when her phone vibrated, earning a sidelong glance from Frank. “Is that Chloe? Rachel, she has to know by now. Where did you even tell her you were going today?”

Rachel swiveled the driver’s side chair and jumped up to put Pompidou on his leash. “I told her I was in Seaside. Which we are. I just… Didn’t mention we were taking your RV. Or that ‘we’ involved you. I even sent her a postcard, I thought she’d chill, but–”

“Chill? Chloe Price?”

“Frankie, stop.” Rachel laughed, rolling her eyes. “She’s not… Okay, she’s a little much. But you have to love her.”

“No I do not.” Frank looked downright offended at the suggestion, and Rachel sighed, raking her fingers through her hair.

“Fine. I do. And I know she won’t like it, and it’ll just start bullshit drama. Not really our style. And I like our style.” Rachel leveled her gaze at him, the way she knew could get her her way any time she wanted.

Frank held her gaze for a long minute, before tossing her her phone. “Just text her. Tell her you’re okay. She goes nuts when she doesn’t hear from you, y’know.”

Rachel considered it for a minute, telling Chloe everything. About Frank, about how she’s really in love, and how happy she is. Holding Pompidou’s leash between her knees, she types it out, just to see it in writing.

1:56 PM: hey babe. i’m in seaside, remember? buuuuuut… i didn’t tell you who with. it’s frank. y’know. that frank. we’ve been hanging out for a while, and uh… now we’re kind of hooking up. and i think he loves me. and i think i love him. maybe. idk. but i love you too. and idk what to do. it’s scary but i don’t wanna lose you, or him. not as friends, or… anything else.

Rachel only realized she was gritting her teeth when the headache started, and she pressed delete, holding it down for a solid minute after the words vanished. Like hell am I ruining today like this.

March 8th, 2012

Rachel had never felt grosser. She’d known David was a creep from the start, but when she’d caught him tailing her in his shitty car, taking her picture by Frank’s, and on campus, she went into damage control mode. Cut Frank off by starting a fight and leaving him a letter goodbye, and distanced herself from the Vortex Club and Nathan. There was only one link left to get David off her back.

Chloe.

Her fingers shook slightly as she typed out the text, a lump in her throat.

9:17 PM: hey. sorry it’s been a few days of silence. needed space, y’know? but i need more. a lot more. i have school stuff to work on since the semester’s almost over, so things will be hella crazy for me and i just won’t have time for a social life. we should-

Her typing stopped as a new message popped up from Chloe, as if she’d known what was happening.

9:17 PM: holy shit dude, v just told me stepdick is stalking you. that SUCKS. he’s such an asshole. i can get him off your back. cause mischief, you know, my usual. just say the word.

Rachel smiled softly, her chest feeling a little lighter, as she deleted her previous message in the making.

January 16th, 2013

For nearly the last year, Chloe and Rachel had been closer than ever, even more so than before her secret relationship with Frank put a rift between them. Initially, when Mark Jefferson had been chosen to teach at Arcadia Bay, Rachel had only thought of her future. Sure, she had some professional shots in her modeling portfolio, but Mark was a known, celebrated photographer. She’d been subtle at the start, a stark contrast from the fan girls that drooled over him and whined for his attention. Asking him for advice on her portfolio or assignments for class, casually asking if he could maybe do a small shoot for her.

It was almost too easy for that to blur into what it was now, sneaking back to the dorms after a scandalous hookup in his office that had become their routine. She fished her phone from her bag to read the long list of texts Chloe had sent her over the last two hours, chuckling and shaking her head. She’d tried to write it all out, to tell Chloe about him. But it never felt like the right time. And Chloe would lose her shit anyways, no matter when she told her.

6:23 PM: hey blue. i’m fine, sorry i went quiet. i was kinnnnnnd of with someone. but i need to tell you in person. bc it’s sort of… taboo. like, hella taboo. pick me up and we can-

A hand on her shoulder elicited a horror movie scream that echoed off the brick walls lining the sidewalk. Beside her, Nathan jumped back like he’s been shocked, hands raised in defense. “Shit! Sorry, Rach! I just, I just saw you come out of the main building and I just…”

His words trailed off as he looked at something behind her, and Rachel followed his gaze, neck craning to look without turning. Mark was half-jogging down the stairs, briefcase in hand. He gave her and Nathan a curt nod before heading to his car, and Rachel turned back to Nathan, who’s expression had visibly darkened. “Uh, you good, Nate? He give you a shit grade or something?”

“Or… Something.”

April 21st, 2013

Something was very, very wrong. Sure, Rachel had taken some shit, and drank a little. But she could hold her own. A little weed and molly didn’t leave her stumbling like Bambi learning to walk, head spinning, and her stomach lurching. The flashing lights of the party stung her eyes and made her head throb, like she had the worst hangover in the world. Victoria had seen her, mocking her for not being able to hang. She vowed to never drink again if she survived this. Chloe was here somewhere, but Rachel just needed out, now. She pushed open the doors, deeply inhaling the cool evening air. Pulling out her phone, she tried in vain to type, but everything came out jumbled and nonsensical.

The door opened behind her, Mark stepping out onto the sidewalk next to her. “Rachel, are you alright? Let me get you back to your dorm.”

By that point her vision was blurring and darkening at the edges, so she just nodded.

Next thing she knew, she woke up in the dark, feeling like she was flying. After a minute, looking around with each movement taking all her strength, she realized she was in Mark’s car, laying across the back seat. Realizing her phone was still clutched in her hand, she typed out a single text to Chloe, the car coming to a stop as she finished writing it.

1:29 AM: somethings wrong. scared. mark took me. idk where i am. help.

Mark opened the door, Rachel letting out a low groan as he dragged her from the car and letting her drop outside the car as he picked up her phone, watching the text try to send, until the words flashed across the screen.

MESSAGE SEND FAILURE. RETRY?

October 13th, 2013

Rachel had been in the hospital for three days, and only really conscious for two of them. Hooked up to an IV giving her nutrients to try and supply everything she’d missed over the last six months as well as water. They’d recovered her phone in the bunker, giving it back only after they’d gotten all evidence off of it. That pissed Rachel off, but she didn’t have a leg to stand on since her own naivete and secrecy had gotten her kidnapped in the first place. After everything, all the shit she’d hid from Chloe, Chloe had found her. Saved her. And Rachel couldn’t bring herself to talk to her.

Tongue bitten between her teeth, Rachel frowned at her phone for over a minute before hurriedly opening it and getting to Chloe’s messages. She’d seen all the calls Chloe had made to her before, when she was tied up and left to die. But none since, because she was a hundred feet away, in the waiting room.

1:56 PM: hey life saver. come say hi. i owe you a thanks. and like, so much more.

VICTORIA

March 7th, 2010

Why the fuck did I call her Kari? This was the thought swirling around Victoria’s head as she sat in her Chemistry class. She was replaying the scene over and over in her head. She’d asked, specifically, what Chloe’s name was on the picture of them at that concert. But instead of, “Hey, Chloe, cool concert?” she’d gone on some ego-maniac spiel about her dumb photography award, and called her Kari. Victoria was cringing so hard she thought she might combust.

Sneaking her phone from her bag to her lap, she typed out a quick, hopefully casual message.

9:56 AM: thnx for the chem help. maybe u could tutor? i can pay.

But then, from behind her, the teacher’s voice rang out shrill and angry. “Ms. Chase, what is the meaning of this?”

Dread and understanding filled her, and she deleted the message, typing out an angry, belligerent message in its place. Fuck Chloe, this is what happens when you ask for help.

January 1st, 2011

The night previous had been unexpected, to say the least. Chloe wasn’t exactly in Victoria’s social circle, and hadn’t been at Blackwell for over a year, so their only connection was the rare times Rachel forced them together to hang out with her. They tolerated each other, even occasionally laughed at each other’s jokes. But last night had been different.

Rachel had completely bailed from the Vortex party, leaving Chloe to mope in the corner, nursing her red solo cup clutched a little too aggressively to be casual.

Pathetic.

Just to get Chloe out of there, to avoid souring the mood of the whole party, Victoria had taken her out to stairs and offered her a cigarette, forgetting herself as she lit it by leaning in close with her own. Brown eyes meeting blue and illuminated by the burning ends of their cigarettes, they held the gaze for what could only be a moment before pulling back and laughing it off. What followed had been nearly an hour of honestly talking, ranging from Rachel being a bitch for ditching Chloe, to the Vortex Club, to life at Blackwell. Small talk, sure, but it was easier to talk to Chloe than Victoria could have ever expected. When it became clear Rachel wasn’t making a reappearance any time soon, Victoria walked Chloe back to her truck after double and triple checking she wasn’t too fucked up to drive.

Now, in the harsh lights of the bathroom as she double-checked her make up, Victoria looked down at her phone, even picking it up and typing out a message.

7:50 AM: it’s v. hope you didn’t die last night, from alcohol poisoning or otherwise. last night wasn’t terrible, quelle suprise. guess we’re not totally at a loss if rach keeps bailing.

Just then, Taylor and Courtney entered, Taylor immediately checking herself in the mirror, and Courtney handing Victoria her morning coffee. Forgetting the text, Victoria shut off her phone, and accepted the coffee.

March 11th, 2012

Despite the odds, Victoria and Chloe had gone from tolerating each other to something… Different. Rachel’s presence was no longer a prerequisite for them to hang out together, though they insisted on keeping it secret regardless. Their drunk talks outside Vortex Club parties had turned into dizzying, intense hookups in Chloe’s car, or the bathroom, or wherever else they could get before they tore each other’s clothes off.

And still, Victoria couldn’t bring herself to just be nice to her. She was well aware it was Chloe’s birthday, it was all over her Facebook and Rachel’s instagram, that they had “big plans” for the big 1-8.

Plans that did not include Victoria.

Poring over her homework, textbooks covering her entire desk, Victoria’s head jerked up when she heard the now familiar revving of Chloe’s hideous truck. For a second, she thought Chloe had changed her mind. Chosen to hang out with Victoria instead of Rachel, not just hung out with her because she was the next best option. Her heart jumped, and she picked up her phone to text the birthday girl.

10:25 AM: since it’s your birthday we’ll drop the pretense. give me five minutes-

But her heart dropped back down just as quickly with the all too familiar sound of the dorm door banging opening, where from her window she could see a streak of blonde hair and flannel running to Chloe’s truck.

Oh.

Silently, Victoria sank back into her desk chair, swallowing hard as she tried to focus on her work instead of the annoying, dull ache now sitting squarely in the middle of her chest.

August 7th, 2013

Rachel had been missing for three months and sixteen days. And Victoria had stopped answering Chloe’s texts a month ago. But she was beginning to crack. The texts from Chloe ranged from poorly faked nonchalance (’hey vic, whats up, i’m at blackwell let’s chill’) to accusatory (’you always hated rach, you wanted her gone, fuck you!’). So Victoria ignored them. But she was scared, just like Chloe. And sad. And news of the disappearance was harder to get ahold of when she wasn’t in Arcadia Bay, stuck home in Seattle until the beginning of the school. Skimming over the unanswered texts, Victoria bit her lip and started to type something out.

3:05 PM: any news? hope ur having a nice summer. other than the obvi.

But a knock at her bedroom door, and Danielle, the family’s cleaning lady, poking head in distracted her from the ache, if only for a minute. She threw her phone into the middle of her bed and walked out, giving a rare, sweet smile to Danielle, and flounced out of the room, pushing all thoughts of Rachel, Chloe, and Arcadia Bay from her mind.

October 4th, 2013

Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

Even in Victoria’s alcohol and coke fueled buzz, she knew what she’d seen. Nathan had been shadowing Kate all night, after being the one to invite her, and then slipped something in her drink, which he was now handing off to her. Victoria felt icy, like all circulation in her body had stopped. The pounding bass felt otherworldly with the music muffled by her panic. In her mind, two dots struggled to connect, separated by months and what, at the moment, had seemed like absolutely nothing. But when Kate started stumbling, her dark blonde hair lit up by the flashing lights, deja vu hit Victoria like a truck.

Rachel had been drugged before she disappeared. It all made sense now. Why she was so out of it, and why she’d left so fast. Chloe was the first person Victoria thought of, and she fumbled to pull her phone out.

11:38 PM: chloe it’s vic call me ASAP i think i have a clue to what happened-

Courtney and Taylor, who until now had been watching Kate, mesmerized and horrified, looked over at Victoria for instruction. Victoria opened her mouth, unsure what was about to come out. Before she could speak. Courtney laughed and grabbed her phone. “Holy shit, Saint Kate is going Girls Gone Wild. We’re so posting this.”

November 24th, 2013

The month and some change since the End of the World Party had been bizarre. Victoria had lost nearly everything, from her Everyday Heroes win, to her friends, to the Vortex Club leadership position. But Max had approached her like it was nothing, and sat with her when no one else would, and brought her assignments when she couldn’t bear to leave her room. An extension of Max’s friendship was being reunited with Chloe, whom she hadn’t spoken to in four months.

It wasn’t easy, trying to piece together a genuine friendship after how quickly Victoria had dropped Chloe, and Chloe had accused her of being involved in their still-missing friend’s disappearance. But somehow, they did it. When Max headed off to Seattle for Thanksgiving break, and VIctoria’s family let her know she wouldn’t be welcome at the family gathering after her “disgrace”, Chloe was the first person she turned to.

11:40 AM: sorry for the late notice, but… any chance you’ve got a spare seat at your table? kinnnnnnnd of disinvited from thanksgiving, with nowhere to go.

Twelve long minutes later, her phone vibrated in her hand.

11:52 AM: v, i think if i turned you away my mom would disinvite me. yes, you’re coming. bonus points if you make david feel shitty with me.

#victoria; interactions #rachel; interactions #punkdtm

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goforwardgreenwriter-blog · 6 years

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The Worm Reads: The Assassin’s Blade, Ch 11-12

Hopefully this next story is more interesting than the last!

This next story is The Assassin and the Healer. Also, since this is a new story, this is technically Chapter 1 again, but for the sake of this review, we’ll call it Chapter 11.

The strange young woman had been staying at the White Pig Inn for two days now and had hardly spoken to anyone save for Nolan, who had taken one look at her fine night-dark clothes and bent over backward to accommodate her.

The strange young woman, in case you’re wondering, is actually Celery herself. Meaning that we’re in a new POV! Thank god, I needed a break from being in Celery’s head.

Yrene Towers had been watching the young woman from the safety of the taproom bar. Watching, if only because the stranger was young and unaccompanied and sat at the back table with such stillness that it was impossible not to look. Not to wonder.

Yup, this story features Yrene, the healer who would later be in T0D. I can’t bear to read T0D and witness the butchering of my sweet innocent Chaol, but I’ve heard the horror stories. *shudders*

Yrene glanced at the mug she was currently cleaning and tried not to wince. She did her best to keep the bar and taproom clean, to serve the Pig’s patrons (...) with a smile. But Nolan still watered down the wine, still washed the sheets only when there was no denying the presence of lice and fleas, and sometimes used whatever meat could be found in the back alley for their daily stew.

Fucking nasty shit right there. Disgusting. I’d say let Yrene move somewhere else, but, well..... T0D showed what a mistake that was.

Yrene quickly poured ale into the mug she’d just been drying and set it on a tray. She added a glass of water and some more bread, since the girl hadn’t touched the stew she’d been given for dinner. Not a single bite. Smart woman.

Yrene is under the impression Celery is aware of how contaminated the food is and that someone might have tried to spike her food, so she’s wise not to eat it. Keep this in mind for later.

Yrene brings up another server named Jessa who takes most of the tips from the inn so SJM can slutshame another female character for using her sexuality and daring to be *gasp* feminine. SJM can kiss my ass.

Like most who hailed from southern Fenharrow, Yrene had golden-tan skin and absolutely ordinary brown hair and was of average height.

So is Yrene just a white girl with a tan, or......? I mean, golden-tan implies a tan in my eyes, but who knows.

Celaena Sardothien sat at her table in the absolutely worthless inn, wondering how her life had gone to hell so quickly.

Big Mood. Also, ungh, we’re back in Celery’s POV.

She’d been here for two days now—two days spent either holed up in her despicable room (a “suite,” the oily innkeeper had the nerve to call it), or down here in the taproom that stank of sweat, stale ale, and unwashed bodies.

Am I the only one umcomfy with how much SJM puts emphasize on all the evil/greedy characters being ugly? Like I know it’s just a book series, but coming from someone who is average looking and has very difficult hair that gets oily if I don’t wash twice a day, this just makes me uncomfortable. Maybe that’s just me.

Celaena sighed and took a long drink of her ale. She almost spat it out. Disgusting. Cheap as cheap could be, like the rest of this place. Like the stew she hadn’t touched. Whatever meat was in there wasn’t from any creature worth eating. Bread and mild cheese it was, then.

Nope, Celery isn’t concerned at all that flaunting her wealth around might cause her to gain a few enemies. The stew simply doesn’t live up to her expectations! I’m laughing.

She fought the urge to touch her face. The swelling from the beating Arobynn had given her had gone down, but the bruises remained. She avoided looking in the sliver of mirror above her dresser, knowing what she’d see: mottled purple and blue and yellow along her cheekbones, a vicious black eye, and a still-healing split lip.

Just throwing this out there in case anyone wants to defend Arobynn or say that he’s not all that bad because he took Celery in, he beat the shit out a sixteen year old. Real standup guy! Maybe I should review Q0S just to enjoy what happens to him...

There was no denying it: she’d merely been spoiling for a fight. No blades, no weapons. Just fists and feet. Celaena supposed she should feel bad about it—about the broken noses and jaws, about the heaps of unconscious bodies in her wake. But she didn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to care, because those moments she spent brawling were the few moments she felt like herself again. When she felt like Adarlan’s greatest assassin, Arobynn Hamel’s chosen heir.

Hmm, I like this? Yeah Celery is a violent asshole, but it explains her mindset and trauma well because she feels as an assassin she has to fight, that the thrill of a fight keeps her going since she’s been raised that way since she was young. Very nice. I’ll admit, this book isn’t nearly as bad as the later novels in the series. It’s got Sammy and a few good moments like this.

Celery toys with the idea of running away, but she knows that Arobynn would hunt her down to kill her and informs us she still has no idea where Sammy is. I swear, if he’s hurt-

Chapter 12 switches back to Yrene’s POV.

Yrene couldn’t have left even if she wanted to. Last call wasn’t for another forty minutes, and she’d have to stay an hour after that to clean up and usher intoxicated patrons out the door. She didn’t care where they went once they passed the threshold—didn’t care if they wound up facedown in a watery ditch—just as long as they got out of the taproom. And stayed gone.

Damn, I feel for you, Yrene. Let me just say as someone who had to volunteer dozens of hours in the Girl Guides to serve as a waitress for charity suppers and teas? I know that #feel of dealing with the most unbearable costumers.

It was common knowledge that [Celaena] was leaving tomorrow at dawn.

Um.... how? Nobody knows she is a famous assassin, and only the workers of the inn would know how long she’s paid to stay. Did Celery just announce to all these sketchy drunks she’s leaving tomorrow?

Yrene swallowed hard, pouring another mug of ale. Her mother wouldn’t have hesitated to warn the girl. But her mother had been a good woman—a woman who never wavered, who never turned away a sick or wounded person, no matter how poor, from the door of their cottage in southern Fenharrow. Never.

Another dead YA mom. Okay, I’m not against dead parents on principle (how can I be when one of my WIP’s protag’s arc is about discovering the past of his dead father), it’s a cliche old as time itself and for some stories, yeah it works. I just wish there were more YA moms who were alive and had a relationship with their kids, you know?

A bunch of costumers sexually harass Yrene because SJM novel, then we’re back in Celery’s POV.

Reckless and stupid, Sam would say. But Sam wasn’t here, and she didn’t know if he was dead or alive or beaten senseless by Arobynn. It was a safe bet Sam had been punished for the role he’d played in liberating the slaves in Skull’s Bay.

I miss Sammy... I want him and Yrene to become friends and abandon this shitty kingdom.

Sam had become her friend, she supposed. She’d never had the luxury of friends, and never particularly wanted any. But Sam had been a good contender, even if he didn’t hesitate to say exactly what he thought about her, or her plans, or her abilities.

Huh... SJM isn’t immediately playing up the romance drama just yet and actually acknowledges they need to be friends first? Color me both shocked and impressed. Idk why SJM dropped this for later novels, but I’ll give her props for this.

Sighing, she slipped into her room and bolted the door. After a moment, she shoved the ancient chest of drawers in front of it, too. Not for her own safety. Oh, no. It was for the safety of whatever fool tried to break in—and would then find himself split open from navel to nose just to satisfy a wandering assassin’s boredom.

I’m telling y’all, Celery is a psychopath. it’s one thing for an assassin character to be neutral towards killing and murder, it’s another for them to want to slice open randos just for fun.

But after pacing for fifteen minutes, she pushed aside the furniture and left. Looking for a fight. For an adventure. For anything to take her mind off the bruises on her face and the punishment Arobynn had given her and the temptation to shirk her obligations and instead sail to a land far, far away.

Bitch I wish you would. Take the rest of this shitty series with you while you’re at it.

Yrene lugged the last of the rubbish pails into the misty alley behind the White Pig, her back and arms aching. Today had been longer than most.

And another POV switch in the same chapter? Damn, if this book was written today, this entire chapter would’ve been split up into like, 3 separate chapters.

Unsurprisingly, Jessa had vanished with her sailor, and given that the alley was empty, Yrene could only assume the young woman had gone elsewhere with him. Leaving her, yet again, to clean up.

It is shitty of Jessa to leave Yrene to clean up all of the mess but I still don’t like that lowkey slutshaming from earlier.

I told you to wait until it’s past—” she started, but paused as four figures stepped from the mist. Men. The mercenaries from before. Yrene was moving for the open doorway in a heartbeat, but they were fast - faster.

Before you recoil in horror, no, SJM isn’t stupid enough to write a sexual assault scene. We aren’t at AC0TAR levels of disgusting and offensiveness, yet. The mercenaries only try to rob Yrene.

“Saw you making some hefty tips tonight, girl. Where are they?”

But it was Jessa making the tips and not Yrene, right?

The man farthest from them was yanked into the mist with a strangled cry. The mercenary holding her whirled toward him, dragging Yrene along. There was a ruffle of clothing, then a thump. Then silence. “Ven?” the man blocking the door called.

You get three guesses as to who is rescuing her. The first two don’t count.

“Come out, you bleedin’ coward,” the ringleader growled. “Face us like a proper man.” A low, soft laugh. Yrene’s blood went cold. Silba, protect her. She knew that laugh—knew the cool, cultured voice that went with it. “Just like how you proper men surrounded a defenseless girl in an alley?”

If only it wasn’t Celery to the rescue, I might be able to delightfully enjoy this moment of girls protecting girls. Alas.

With that, the stranger stepped from the mist. She had two long daggers in her hands. And both blades were dark with dripping blood.

Total nitpick, but wouldn’t “And both blades were dripping with dark blood’ sounds better?

Overall, this story, despite the lowkey slut shaming in one part, is much more enjoyable than the last, even though Sammy is still nowhere to be seen. We’ll just have to wait and see if SJM butchers it.

#the worm talks #the worm reads: tab #anti sjm #anti tog #anti tab

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disownedbytiime · 3 years

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Funny how certain media/shows/fandoms will make you like things you never thought you’d enjoy! Honestly I never thought I could ever read an a////bo or m///preg ever, but here I am.

Anyway I got hc about the main mx///xt couples having kids so 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’ll start this by saying that I believe that in the sv and tg worlds m///preg is possible but not in md (since it’s more realistic). And it doesn’t go here but QQ is the same.

– I don’t see Bing//qiu having kids right away. They’d want to live their honeymoon phase for a while (years), and tbh I don’t think LBH is ready to be a dad with all the daddy issues he has. Also I think he’s not yet mature enough to share his husband even with a kid of his own. At the same time, I don’t think SQQ would want to get pregnant because that’s new to him and he’s still coming to terms with the fact that it can happen. Yet, I think years in (and I mean many many years in), when they’re more sure about their relationship and more mature and understood better the world and how they fit into it, they’d agree on having a kid. I kinda see them having a daughter, only one and they’d name her either after BH’s mom or SQQ’s lil sister. I believe they’d be good parents tbh, and it’d be a surprise but I think LBH would be the better parent and oh, he would protect her so much. TLJ would love her btw! But LBH doesn’t like her spending time w him. I think SQQ would want her to cultivate in CQ mountain even tho nobody else wants bc she’s part demon, but YQY would let her. And she’d be in Bai Zhan peak, much to the horror of everybody.

– For Wang//xian, as I said I don’t think they can have kids of their own, but also I don’t see them adopting. I think it’s clear that WWX likes kids (and I’ll always love the moment where he says ‘we only need a little one’ recalling the scene w his parents and comparing it to his relationship with LWJ) but! I think they had enough and will rather now enjoy their life together on their own. Besides, they have tons of juniors that they watch over. I think they’d consider LSZ their kid, and that’s enough. They’ll see him growing up and turning into a fine man. They also watch over JL and the others, but more like in a uncles’ way. So I think they’re good. (I’m obsessed with them living their life like WWX imagined in a cottage and not at the sects)

– As for Hua//lian I do see them having kids, maybe not right away but not that many years in like with BQ. I think HC would be the one who wants them first, and once XL gets over his embarrassment about the pills that the ghosts offered, he’d accept bc he’s pretty whipped (tbh both of them are), and after the first one he’d want more. And I kinda see them having 2-3. Boy and girl (or two boys and girl) or all boys. I do, however, believe that they wouldn’t be the best parents out there. They’d try, but they have so many responsibilities that it may be difficult. Fortunately they have E//ming and Ruo///ye to babysit! And also YY and maybe BY and PS and the r//ain master?? Imagine even HX. They’d have tons of uncles (and adopted siblings) that would care for them. They’d even have cousins! (C/uocuo and G/uzi). Anyway depending on when this happens and if SQX is still alive, he’d be the cool but bad influence uncle. But other than him, most of the others are cool uncles that will watch over the kids while the parents are too infatuated with each other. And oh! When QR comes back he’d also be terrible influence on him! He’d tell him he’ll eat him and G/uzi would have to stop him, but I also headcanon that when he comes back, he’s less… gremlin and less intense. He’d still be a nuisance but somehow calmer and would rather spend his free days with his son, so I think he’d enjoy being a gremlin uncle. And it may remind him of his and XL’s infancy. HC doesn’t want him near his kids, but yk it sometimes just happens.

Now! The other canon ship and other non canon ones.

– Mo//shang would definitely have many many kids. I think it’s a common hc that they’d want kids bc of how neglected they were when they were kids. And also bc MBJ needs a heir. So they’d have many. And I think SQH would be scared at first –just like with SQQ, this didn’t exist in their world– and okay, maybe every time he’d get scared, but once he sees the kids, he’d be fine with it. Until next time. They’d have both girls and boys, but I’m not sure yet what i want the first one to be. Surprisingly they’d be the best parents from all this list. I think that LBH would see their growing family and that’s one of the things that pushes him into wanting kids btw. The half demon/half human kids would grow in both demon and human realm, but I don’t see them getting into CQ mountain as disciples. Or maaaybe one? Only one from all the bunch who’s more human-like than the others. Maybe into Qing Jing peak to annoy SQQ or in the one MQF is bc I also see them being healers. In any case, many of the kids inherited the love for bad writing from their dad, something that SQQ loathes. ((Or maybe twins get in, one is QJ and the other in that other one, but both kids pester their uncle SQQ daily with their writings!))

– Bing//jiu would definitely have many kids. Not exactly bc SJ wants, but LBH would want to have him pregnant all the time to keep him there and show everybody he’s his. SJ would say how disgusting it is, but secretly he’d love it too. He’d give LBH more kids than his other wives and he’d take pride of their kids being “superior.” Their fist kid would be a daughter (like with BQ). They’d be okayish parents, LBH would always be away ruling the world so he’s kinda absent, but he’d lavish them with gifts and nice food and other stuff. SJ would take care of them and of their education. He’d be stern but he’d also be quite spoiling –something BG doesn’t like–. We just have to keep SHL away from them btw.

– LMY/SHL (idk their ship name) wouldn’t have kids I think. I definitely don’t see SHL being a good mother at all, and honestly LMY? Keep your literature away from kids, it’s not appropriate. Buuuut maybe they (mostly SHL) end up roped into babysitting BQ’s and MS’s babies and oh she’d hate it and would ask LMY for help (maybe MS’s kids would get their love for writing from here too), and after a while, after they grow up, they may start thinking it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Until the next mo//shang baby comes and they’re like: uhhh not again…. So yeah I think they wouldn’t.

– Quan//yin wouldn’t have them bc YY is too busy and he doesn’t want them and QYZ is basically still a kid.

– Beef//leaf…. Ah, realistically it’d be the easiest since the both of them change forms a lot, but I think they’d wait also. (They need to get over their traumas first). Since I firmly believe that SQX prefers their female form and HX their male form, SQX would carry the kid. I think they agree on having only one but they end up with twins, and that’s okay. HX would be the responsible father with SQX being more scatterbrained, yet he’d try hard. (After watching his nephews before he’d know what to do better!) (I’m ignoring canon a lot here, this is in a world where they are together and SQX is immortal again).

– Xue//Xiao and Xi//Yao are unfortunately </3 not possible anymore so I won’t say much, but if they weren’t dead Xue//Xiao wouldn’t have any bc they have A//Qing already and ngl I doubt they’d be good parents at all. Xi//Yao do deserve kids and I think they’d be nice parents, albeit too protective.

– I’m not super into this ship, but since I saw some art earlier (the first I ever see) I’ve been thinking about them. I think FX and Jian//Lan should be given a new opportunity and they should give C/uoCuo a sibling! An alive one. (If it makes sense bc the mother is a ghost herself). I think they could make it work.

And last, again it doesn’t go here but:

– Yan//Shen should not adopt more kids. They have 5 already and ngl SQ is not the best dad. He kept collecting kids and then abandoning them to save the world. Not cool. YWS seems a bit better but at the same time he left YSY when he was like 10 and then disappeared for 10 years, so yk first take care of the kids you already have and then you can think about having more.

#cn rambling/#I may add more later but I think these are the only ones I like more???#ah didn’t include the peis but ehhh #I didn’t include ran///wan bc a few days ago I learnt something new and I’m still thinking about it #If I make a continuation then I may add them idk

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driftinglightofthewoods · 6 years

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Found || X-men Verse Drabble

-flops- idk I wanted to be semi productive today

Summary: Logan and Hank are send to find the new mutant Cerebro picked up; Eredhon.

Warnings: Mentioning of open wounds, burn marks and implied torture. Tagging @legolasgoldy as per usual

“It’s not often you send only teachers on a recruiting mission, Charles,” Hank yawned, shaking his head for a moment in an attempt to literally shake himself awake. Logan seemed less bothered by the fact that the hour was crawling close to midnight when the professor had called them both to him; apparently this was a serious case. Surely it could’ve waited until the dawn of the new day if it wasn’t.

“That’s because it’s not a recruiting mission as much as it is a rescue mission,” Charles spoke, folding his hands in front of his mouth as he was finished, his brows furrowing in thought.

“Cerebro pointed out a new mutant to me, one I haven’t sensed before. That is not what worries me. The things I have seen from his point of view are what bother me. This poor child escaped from a facility that has been less than kind to him, or he wouldn’t be so desperately on the run. I need the two of you to track him down and bring him in as gently as possible.”

“Gently? Then why am I teamed up with Logan?” Hank asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because I’m better at tracking people, bub,” was the casual reply.

A loud crash was heard as the youngster knocked over a trashcan in his panicked run into the maze of small and dark alleyways that connected the city together. His heart racing in his chest as his lungs burned from all the running he had done, skittishly looking around to try and find some place to hide as dark clouds gathered to block the pale light of the moon and stars.

He coughed for a second, feeling his throat burn almost as much as his lungs and the marks on his back, his breathing becoming even more erratic as he tried to fight back the tears. The teen decided to flee into the right sided alleyway, unsure of where it would lead him as long as it was far away from the facility he had been.

As soon as the car stopped Logan was out and about, sniffing the air to try and pick up the scent that would lead him in the right direction. He had to figure it out quickly, because it would be a lot harder to find the teen if it started to rain.

“What do you think he’s running from, Logan?”

“Well, from the look on Charles’ face I’m going to say it isn’t anything good.”

He huffed when he did pick up a scent, his face contorting into a grimace.

“I found the scent; it’s the smell of pure fear. Come, this way,” he called to Hank before following the trail lead by his senses. After a few turns they heard the metal noise of something hitting a big garbage container, and the yowl of a cat very unhappy by being disturbed in its home. Wolverine immediately enabled his claws, while Hank just pressed his hand away.

“Don’t. You don’t want to scare the poor thing. Let me try. Hello,’ he called into the alleyway, carefully and slowly making his way down the path.

“I am Hank McCoy. The grump over there is my friend, Logan, and I promise you he will only harm whomever it is you’re running from. We’re with the Xavier school for gifted youngsters. We’re here to help you.”

He got no reply, and for a moment couldn’t do anything but quietly look around until he heard soft sobs coming from the small opening between the dumpster and the stone wall that marked the end of the dead end street. Hank thought for a moment, wondering how he was going to approach the teen without scaring him one way or another.

“I hear you. Hey, uhm, fair warning… I’m big, blue and kind of furry. Plus I have clawed hands, but I promise I’m not here to hurt you. Just… don’t get spooked by my looks, okay?”

Despite not hearing a reply, he slowly approached the hiding spot, his heart sinking as he saw the boy curled away in the corner trying to keep himself together. He had to shake his own emotions away for a moment, having to focus on the new mutant. He squatted down, trying to appear less intimidating.

“Hey there. No, no, shh, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m coming a little closer, okay?”

Hank made soft hushing noises every time the younger mutant’s breath hitched in fear, calmly getting closer and reaching out a friendly hand.

“We’re here to help,” he assured, unmoving from his spot as the teen studied him. He could hear the growl of a hungry stomach, and aside from that it was obvious that the poor child was exhausted. So he didn’t budge, letting the youngster decide on his own terms if he wanted to come closer.

And he did. Slowly but surely, Eredhon came out of hiding, quietly sniffling and wiping at his cheeks as he did. He bypassed the hand completely, nestling himself against the soft fuzz that covered his rescuer’s chest. Hank wrapped his arms around the young one, swearing to himself he could almost feel exactly how completely drained the other was. He moved one arm to hook it underneath the dark haired boy’s knees, gently lifting him up and bringing him to the car, while Wolverine stuck nearby as some sort of bodyguard.

Hank kept holding on to the young mutant the entire way back to the institution, allowing the other to sleep in his embrace.

When they returned home, it was quickly decided among the teachers that the best course of action was to not let the new mutant wake up in a medical bay that would look a lot like the facility he escaped from. Instead, Hank turned his room into a makeshift medical bay instead, so the teen would wake up somewhere more homely and cozy.

It wasn’t until he took the dirty, torn and bloodied shirt off the teen that Hank actually recoiled for a moment, a look of pained shock and horror pulling over his face. He quickly gathered some medical supplies, throwing a second look at the back of the teen. Open wounds, long and thin, ran crisscross over his shoulders and the lower half of his back, while two burned marks in the gap in between stirred a feeling of offended anger into Dr. McCoy.

“What did they do to you?” he muttered to himself, waiting for the teen’s hungry stomach to wake him. He gave him some broth to eat, first, before carefully cleaning the wounds he had seen. He even moved to wipe a few tears away.

“I’m being as gentle as I can…. I promise, you’re safe here.”

Worry shimmered in his eyes as the teen coughed and rubbed his throat. Was that where his mutation lingered? Hank didn’t know, and finding out wasn’t his priority right now.

“What’s your name?”

“…… Er….. Eredhon.”

“Well, Eredhon,” Hank said with a sweet, friendly smile,

“You go get some rest, okay? The professor will want to speak to you when you’re ready, but until then…. Just focus on healing up.”

“Okay…” Eredhon whispered, before crawling back in the soft, inviting bed.

#drabble #v: a different set of circumstances (Eredhons second xmen verse)

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doorsclosingslowly · 7 years

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@sl-walker asked a question: 1, 11, 13!

@jamaskywalker asked a quesstion: 1, 17, 25, 29 and 30 for the identity asks?

@darthbiscuits asked a question: (sorry if it's weird to send this so late, I kept meaning to and not doing it) - for the numbered asks, 11, 13, 22, 25 & 26

Thanks <3 Doing everything in one batch because of overlaps!

1) if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?

Uh, a hard one. Tbh I don’t think a story that feels like me or whatever would ever get published because people would be too bored. I probably wouldn’t like it much either. The closest is probably Richard Ayoade’s film Submarine or the songs Ritual No. 1 and Derek Jarman’s Garden by Nicky Wire. Emmy the Great’s Paper Forest (In the Afterglow of Rapture). Also -- Ali Smith’s There but for the, because I often feel like just locking myself in a room and staying there. Revenge of the Sith, which is probably the film I related most to ever but that time’s over and I’m never letting it come back. Suede’s Picknick by the Motorway. When You Don’t See Me by the Sisters of Mercy. Kafka’s Metamorphosis. Of Walking Abortion by Manic Street Preachers, and also This Sullen Welsh Heart and Born A Girl.

In terms of things that massively influenced me that’s probably Yu-Gi-Oh! which I watched religiously for most of my early teenage years and that mix of ludicrousness and horror is still what I look for in stories I think. Also -- regrettably -- Die Zähne in der Hand by the world’s most pretentious band, Samsas Traum, my first ever real favourite song. It’s about punching someone to death, except that someone is yourself and/or the personification of your mental illness & I can kind of see why people were so afraid for me when I was thirteen lol. I can trace a truly ridiculous range of things from being vegetarian to liking the Sisters back to my first internet buddy sending me that song on ICQ. To be honest I think she never found out that I was really young then haha

Alternatively, the fanfic I’ve written. Mostly Unmasked, Riches and Wonders, Down in the Ground Where the Dead Men Go and Your Death is a Number because they dive into Issues but everything is rooted in my thought process so.

11) describe your ideal day.

I wake up, stay in bed and fall asleep again (falling asleep in the morning feels v nice). Some weird non-breakfast food and a lot of tea, and then I go exploring a city or cliffs or something and listen to music. It’s really sunny. In the evening I meet up with a friend and we talk about random stuff and politics and Star Wars. I don’t have to think about what I should be doing instead because I have no commitments or work that I’m putting off. I don’t feel terrified about what I should be doing. My brain is quiet.

13) inside or outdoors?

Inside most of the time. I really like it though when it’s summer and I have the time to just pick a direction and walk until the day’s over. In cities usually because you can’t get lost there and if you do just take the bus to the main station.

17) would you say your tumblr is a fair representation of the “real you”?

Not really. It’s not half as boring as I am. Although it’s probably a fair representation of my current interests, and the regrettable fact that I obsessively pick one thing and think of little else for months.

22) list the top five things you spend the most time doing, in order.

In ascending order of how many hours a day I spend doing them:

Thinking about things I want to be doing and not doing them.

Thinking about the things I should be doing, not doing them and worrying.

Playing Solitaire/Minesweeper/Sudoku instead, the filler paste of activities: addictive, not teaching you anything, and not that satisfying to be honest. But at least I’m doing something, which keeps the restlessness at bay. This sketch is so accurate. “Welcome to the afterlife. And here’s the final result of your life’s work: you managed to beat your computer at solitaire 7345 out of a possible 128312 times!”

Daydreaming, the less bad filler paste, because at least it occasionally results in writing fanfic.

Sleeping.

25) could you live as a hermit?

Unfortunately most likely not. I house-sat for when my parents were away for three weeks a few years ago and didn’t really leave the house at all and after a week I relistened to all podcasts I had ever heard because it was doing my head in, human interactions are incredibly stressful to me but I honestly couldn’t stay alive without them.

26) how would you describe your gender/sexuality?

Asexual, aromantic. Male, tough I’m currently swinging hard towards “Gender? No thanks” which idk whether that’s a defense mechanism for the fact that I decided years ago that everything was so much effort and it would just be incredible stress for nothing anyway if I went through with killing myself, so after the GP wasn’t helpful and I didn’t know what to do I put off transitioning until a nebulous time when I’d have more mental strength to invest in that. Or whether it’s anything genuine. Tbh I’m still not sure whether I want to even mention this on this blog because it’s not like it matters & Anton is the name I use when I think of myself, I’m least uncomfortable with he/him, but otoh it’s less bad than talking about this in meatspace and probably my obsession with body horror makes more sense now.

29) three songs that you connect with right now.

Niels Frevert – Ich möchte mich gern von mir trennen

Frank Turner – Get Better

Sneaker Pimps – Curl

30) pick one of your favorite quotes.

Where there’s nature, or where there is breathing, there are true moments of joy. You’ve just got to recognise them. And not take them for granted. And that’s what I try to do, have moments of elation in life, however small, five minutes a day, and be able to think “Yeah, that’ll do. That’ll do me, now”. Nicky Wire, Vox October 1996.

#sl-walker #jamaskywalker #darthbiscuits

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ion0ra · 7 years

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Unknown Origins, Pt. 1

#mtg #mtg fanwalker #bonham aykut majer #bon #tiro talks #tiro's stories

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pharaohsparklefists · 7 years

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Episode 89! Big drama, quick action, shit not sorted out!

Such quick action, actually, I’m going to do something I haven’t done in a long time, and recap a whole episode at once. BUCKLE UP!

Malik is being a total unreasonable emotionally-abusive foolish SHITHEAD right now. I am so disappointed in him. He stops Rishid from WINNING to tell him he has to take the massive risk of playing the Fake Ra card because Malik just sort of wants him to and, to make him do it, he dangles the one thing Rishid will carve his own face off for...

This is a LOW BLOW you lying little shit, go sit in the corner and sort your shit out.

Shortly thereafter:

“I am so aroused right now.”

This ridiculous Monster swap, trading Mr Scorpion for I Can’t Believe It’s Not Actually The Avatar Of A God, turns out to be even more pointless than you might expect:

ICBINTAOAG has the same ATK as Mr Scorpion did! It inherits the ATK of the Monsters sacrified to summon it (Mr Scorpion counted as three Monsters bc it had eaten three Monsters. Yes, I think that’s bullshit too, but on the scale of the bullshittitude perpetrated this episode, it barely registers.)

Malik is delighted.

I think it proves you’re a manipulative little dillweed, but hey, it’s nice to know Malik’s ravings support my theory that Rishid was some kind of nephew or something.

Meanwhile, in her room, Isis divines what is about to happen and mentally warns Rishid that he’s about to mistake. “Mentally” here meaning “in her own head”, not “telepathically”, sadly.

Well maybe show the hell up next time instead of sitting in your room by yourself watching through your haunted jewellery. Then you could have warned him for real and maybe he would have listened! Like seriously, Isis, sort your shit out.

But she isn’t there and Rishid calls his attack and Malik’s Duel Disk FREAKS THE FUCK OUT

Yes, incredibly, just like EVERY OTHER TIME THEY USED A FAKE RA CARD, they have angered the actual real God known as Ra who makes their displeasure known through the age-old tried-and-true Zeus-favoured method of Precision Lightning Headshots.

Boom.

... Awkward.

Seems a bit harsh to ALSO lightning Jounouchi, but in Ra’s defense, Jounouchi didn’t get hit until he approached Rishid.

Everyone freezes in shock, except Honda, who runs forward to climb onto the dueling platform (but does immediately stop when Isono asks him to, even though, for all he knows, his friend is dead or dying...)

(Yami’s ADORABLE shocked face distracted me for a while, but try to tear your eyes away to appreciate Otogi’s horror-blah too!)

Tournament Organiser, Tournament Sponsor Company CEO, and yet somehow also Competitor, Seto Kaiba, tells everyone not to worry!

... this STRONGLY implies that there IS a fatal level though. It is a CARD GAME DEVICE, Seto. Sort your SHIT out.

Isono wants to end the duel and disqualify both competitors for “being unconscious during the duel”, which does seem a little harsh but on the other hand has the massive benefit of freeing the unconscious duelists up for some highly necessary medical attention, but Kaiba Walking-Health-And-Safety-Disaster Seto has a better idea!

Literally, let’s stand here for five more minutes and see if either of them get better or die. These two people just got HIT BY FUCKIN LIGHTNING, this is NOT a suitable tie-breaker. It’s a goddamn CARD GAME, the secondary win-lose criteria should NEVER BE “well let’s see if the electrocution sends either of them into cardiac arrest”. SORT YOUR SHIT OUT, SETO.

... HOW does he EVER get insurance to cover ANYTHING??

The Nerd Herd start yelling at Jounouchi to wake up.

Except Yami who stares in consternation elsewhere? Apparently at Rishid? Maybe he’s in denial about Jounouchi potentially being seriously hurt?

Isis has another worry than merely losing a brother to godly-lightning-attack...

And Rishid is the one who keeps the other!Malik at bay, so if he’s killed in a tragic card-game accident...

This is where things kind of fall apart for me, suspense-wise. Like I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be rooting for Jounouchi, and I certainly don’t want him to die or anything, but Rishid’s reasons for needing to get up and carry on are SO much better??? This isn’t Duelist Kingdom, where Jounouchi needed the prize money to save his sister’s eyesight. He’s literally in this tournament because he likes this dumb card game and it seemed like fun. He wants to do well and duel Yugi/Yami, but #spoileralert he ends up doing that after the tournament is over and that’s fine, so it’s totally not necessary for him to win here. He wants to get back up and continue the duel ... so that he can duel his friend at some point.

Rishid wants to get back up and continue the duel because he knows he’s the only one standing between Malik and the violent alternate-personality waiting to break free and use Malik’s body, and he’s haunted by memories of Malik’s descent into darkness after being tortured by his own father as a child, which Rishid couldn’t save him from.

Jounouchi’s electrocution-vision?

He literally dreams he dozed off in class, then falls over his desk and has a little chat with his friends.

He does have a sweet moment where he acknowledges that he no longer wants to be that rash, aggressive guy who gets into fist fights all the time, because...

He feels, in the dream, heavy and tired and asks for his friends to help him up...

<3!

So friendship wins out over family and duty and Jounouchi stands up while Rishid falls. This fits with the “friendship heck yeah” theme of the series, but ... idk. They explicitly framed this as “who is more determined to win this duel” and it reeeeeeally seems like it would be Mr If I Don’t Win My Precious Younger Brother Will Lose His Mind Maybe Forever and not Mr It’d Be Real Nice To Duel Yugi I Guess.

Anyway, it happens and Jounouchi’s up, but kinda dazed and not sure where he is.

HE GOT HIT BY FUCKING LIGHTNING LIKE FOUR MINUTES AGO, LADY, WHAT THE FRESH HELL, MAYBE SORT YOUR SHIT OUT

And Kaiba’s characteriscally-but-forgetfully derisive

oh my sweet precious fleeting grip on sanity it was yoUR GODDAMN IDIOT IDEA. YOU. YOUUUUUUUU. SHIT. SORT. NOW. PLEASE.

Speaking of fleeting grips on sanity, Jounouchi and Yami go to help Rishid but he’s like “lol don’t mind me, it’s Malik you gotta watch out for cause he’s about to flip the fuck out Disassociative Identity Disorder style”

And they’re like, legit, “Gasp! Namu is Malik?? The only other person on the blimp???” #sortyourshitout

And Malik FINALLY - cause you know he rehearses this in the mirror right? right. - gets to be all like “YES, IT IS I, MALIK! AHAHA”

But then tragically, like 67 seconds later, he becomes the very Malik they have not been fighting this whole time but instead becomes the Malik they will henceforth be fighting...

Who is very dismissive of The Artist Formerly Known As This Very Malik.

~Eight out of ten occult spirits prefer the darkness to other leading brands of eyeliner~

#Yami Marik #is pretty damn hot before he gets all bulgy and shit #Rishid Ishtar #Jounouchi Katsuya #yami yugi #Marik Ishtar #seto kaiba #nerd herd #Hiroto Honda #sparklefists watches ygo #episode 89

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jacksonarmand-blog · 5 years

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#TwitterCEO Akash Banerjee @TheDeshBhakt · Feb 9 While we outrage over #TwitterCEO's refusal to appear before the Parliamentary Panel; we can also take 2 minutes to understand how twitter has changed its basic guidelines...resulting in RW accounts being suspended. I have used a @FordMustang 🚗 to keep it as simple as possible🙏 Akash Banerjee @TheDeshBhakt · Feb 9 While we outrage over #TwitterCEO's refusal to appear before the Parliamentary Panel; we can also take 2 minutes to understand how twitter has changed its basic guidelines...resulting in RW accounts being suspended. I have used a @FordMustang 🚗 to keep it as simple as possible🙏 @TheDeshBhakt · Feb 9 While we outrage over #TwitterCEO's refusal to appear before the Parliamentary Panel; we can also take 2 minutes to understand how twitter has changed its basic guidelines...resulting in RW accounts being suspended. I have used a @FordMustang 🚗 to keep it as simple as possible🙏so, the ford mustang was described as a car that has non-owners beliefs attached to it. ill live on a farm and drive as fast as i want. i wont rob the store and then use uniforma to construct reason to harass owner years later. what i am saying is that I have the right to buy a lighter from a person and when called to help start a fire, by the will of myself, right, i will do what is natural. to drive with my own eyes and enjoy freedom. once i cause a person to lose theirs then there is a problem. let the occupants of the "car" read the preliminary hearing and their parents also and you will see that the nosy ignorant people who run mouth rather than engine, at 300 km. have no use of the sights to give opinion when they are re-lying on a social system that is not un-biased if, in fact, by tension, they did not manufacture, nor form the ground they walk on. I have no reason to believe that words can move a people to think about a cell phone picture size (stolen cell phone with a penis and vaginal lips that are beautiful and larger than the normal little tweeter who arithmetically algorithm to block tweets from being posted. me and my ex have what would be called stolen goods, proprietary evidence coincidentally photographic items that have been stolen from our blessing from...we have been stalked in our sleep and used to be made the fall out of sex sells while mainstreem americans are not in the bedroom watching right back. all cell phones have been stolen as well as the meta physical seatings cars and beds clothes and shoes so that the lustful nature of these characters goes un-imprisoned. i have a problem with the twitter ruling and add that have one officer from any of my cases involved and making or passing an opinionated judgment towards me there is to be an agreement that when crimes go unpunished for a length of time the persons involved have stricter consequences including death when people are harmed while handcuffed. It is to me that I say I want as many answers and guilty parties brought before me to be judged according to the good BOOKS. cell phones and computers containing these images are out and have not been returned as they are reported as stolen. thank you. my twitter account is frozen as these images continue to be surfaced around society at high prices.sara jackson @sarajack251 · Jul 3, 2014 Replying to @jackson_armand @jackson_armand@BoogsMalone stile hoe moves can't help it can usara jackson Retweeted 3 of your Tweets One World Presents Armand Role-lationship http://youtube.com/watch?v=Tcwx9BYFHno&sns=tw via @youtube Show allAin'tFuckedUpaboutIt @delectablerider · Jun 19, 2014 Replying to @jackson_armand @jackson_armand@_MissDD@YouTube so yeah. i'm listening to it properly now.. yeah y'all can get it too w/ your 4g mackin :-) is u famous?Your contact The Bay Area's Voice (@DTLBlu) is on Twitter!KNJBeats @LSarp · Jun 13, 2014 @jackson_armand Hi. I've got 42 free beats you don't want to miss. Check http://sleazylevy.kanaja.deKP_of_TheColleagues @TheColleagues · Jun 8, 2014 Replying to @daileybeats RT @jackson_armand RT @daileybeats Sick of working with people that get discouraged when shit doesn't happen on their time!Erwin Herre @ErwinHerre6837 · Jun 6, 2014 @jackson_armand U like Blair Fowler so i follwed U! Blair's my #1 guru & my #2 is @VyQwaintSignal My Way liked a Tweet you were mentioned in @SkylarCasteel @taz0121 @lloganduhh @LisPenafiel @jackson_armand @MerikieEBekker Thank you for the support and voting! #warpedtour #friendsSignal My Way Retweeted a Tweet you were mentioned in @SkylarCasteel @taz0121 @lloganduhh @LisPenafiel @jackson_armand @MerikieEBekker Thank you for the support and voting! #warpedtour #friendsDy-verse Productions Retweeted your Tweet http://johnnyjuliano.com a Dy-verse Production feat. Armand/ STAY SAFE http://youtube.com/watch?v=Pw1oAxkvaR8&sns=tw via @youtubeAin'tFuckedUpaboutIt Retweeted your reply @ALL4MYBOYS2010 @_MissDD http://johnnyjuliano.com a Dy-verse Production feat. Armand/ STAY SAFE http://youtube.com/watch?v=Pw1oAxkvaR8&sns=tw via @youtubeAin'tFuckedUpaboutIt @delectablerider · May 23, 2014 Replying to @jackson_armand @jackson_armand@_MissDD@YouTube idk, is it mastered? I can't pay attention, sounds like a familiar beat tho.. probably just my tablet :-/YNTO Webozine_Ent. and GrizzlyBeatz💭 Retweeted your reply @Grizzlybeatz http://johnnyjuliano.com a Dy-verse Production feat. Armand/ STAY SAFE http://youtube.com/watch?v=Pw1oAxkvaR8&sns=tw via @youtubexW🌊 @xWBooking · May 22, 2014 Replying to @jackson_armand @jackson_armand were you trying to xWork with us today?🍯HöñëÿĆö🍯 @cocokissx · May 22, 2014 Replying to @jackson_armand @jackson_armand sorry ! 3236933027 there you go🍯HöñëÿĆö🍯 @cocokissx · May 22, 2014 @jackson_armand hi ^_^come show your talent right now on @CREATIVUradio "take the mic" 323693027 press 1 to go on live!sara jackson @sarajack251 · May 22, 2014 @jackson_armand what u mean by them post u talking shitJoey Huspek Retweeted your Tweet That awkward moment when your focus sets in on that one person. You wonder if they are focused on you too. QuestionMyles Jay Giovanni @TheRealMFast · May 22, 2014 Replying to @jackson_armand @jackson_armand what u mean?Peter Simeti 💬 @petersimeti · May 21, 2014 @CharxiCola @PanteraCfH77 @flixfuel@jackson_armand our #kickstarter for #theCHAIR is underway! please share, thanks!THE CHAIR a dark horror film on death row with a GREAT cast A psychological horror film that will have you on the edge of your seat. Starring Eric Roberts, Brian Thompson, Bill Oberst Jr., & more kickstarter.comWeed and T ｈｉｚｚｌｅ Retweeted your Tweet @PurpleThizzle your friends are awesomeIG: MissLadyShadow Retweeted your reply @missladyshadow @lilunowolfpack @mstacks 'TURnT' http://reverbnation.com/armand1981/song/20900850-turntDy-verse Productions Retweeted 2 of your Tweets http://johnnyjuliano.com a Dy-verse Production feat. Armand/ STAY SAFE http://youtube.com/watch?v=Pw1oAxkvaR8&sns=tw via @youtube i seek the Ford Mustang reps. reason for this HIGHSPEED CHASE CONVERSATION AS WELL AS THE TWEETING REACHING FOLLOWERS AND OR NEWS GROUPS MAKING HEADLINES RANT WITHOUT SAYING THE NAMES KEEPING THE INFORMATION TO THE SOCIAL FROM NON-COMFORMING TO THE NATURAL ORDER OF "USE" COST IS THE SPENDING OF DOLLARS BEFORE YINNING ACCOUNTS FREEZING BELIEFS WITH RUBBISH, INSULATING INSULTS BRANDISHING POLICE FIREARMAS WHEN MAZE FORMERS ARE NOLO CONTENDRE ILL INFORMAED ABOUT WHO IS THE SECRET LABIAL RICH MEN AND THE PHALANDERING PRIESTESSES MAGISTRATING KM. 300 OR MORE OUT OF RRARIFACEBOOK.COMOWI1981FACEBOOK.COMUniform Commercial Code | California Secretary of State

https://www.sos.ca.gov/business-programs/ucc/ UCC Connect provides online services for UCC inquiries, filings, copy and debtor ... The Secretary of State's office is the central filing office for certain financing ... You visited this page on 7/29/19. ALFRED JOSEPH ARMAND JACKSON, DEBTOR UCC 1-207 UCC 1308

Uniform Commercial Code | California Secretary of State

so, the ford mustang was described as a car that has non-owners beliefs attached to it. ill live on a farm and drive as fast as i want. i wont rob the store and then use uniforma to construct reason to harass owner years later. what i am saying is that I have the right to buy a lighter from a person and when called to help start a fire, by the will of myself, right, i will do what is natural. to drive with my own eyes and enjoy freedom. once i cause a person to lose theirs then there is a problem. let the occupants of the "car" read the preliminary hearing and their parents also and you will see that the nosy ignorant people who run mouth rather than engine, at 300 km. have no use of the sights to give opinion when they are re-lying on a social system that is not un-biased if, in fact, by tension, they did not manufacture, nor form the ground they walk on. I have no reason to believe that words can move a people to think about a cell phone picture size (stolen cell phone with a penis and vaginal lips that are beautiful and larger than the normal little tweeter who arithmetically algorithm to block tweets from being posted. me and my ex have what would be called stolen goods, proprietary evidence coincidentally photographic items that have been stolen from our blessing from...we have been stalked in our sleep and used to be made the fall out of sex sells while mainstreem americans are not in the bedroom watching right back. all cell phones have been stolen as well as the meta physical seatings cars and beds clothes and shoes so that the lustful nature of these characters goes un-imprisoned. i have a problem with the twitter ruling and add that have one officer from any of my cases involved and making or passing an opinionated judgment towards me there is to be an agreement that when crimes go unpunished for a length of time the persons involved have stricter consequences including death when people are harmed while handcuffed. It is to me that I say I want as many answers and guilty parties brought before me to be judged according to the good BOOKS. cell phones and computers containing these images are out and have not been returned as they are reported as stolen. thank you. my twitter account is frozen as these images continue to be surfaced around society at high prices.

0 notes

foxhenki-blog · 6 years

Text

Disintegration

It’s Walpurgistnacht again, I made it.

Every year my other self’s employer sends our shared mortal coil out to San Fransisco for a conference on Knowledge Management. Yes, him, the other, the non-magic-y fellow, he professionally manages gnosis. A Gnosis Manager employed by the demiurge. As the phrase goes, you do what you got to do to survive. I’m going to try and live blog the trip as it happens, to stay connected to all of you dear readers, just to stay sane.

The flight was uneventful, I consumed Occulture’s latest with Jason Miller and re-consumed Original Gangster Gordon White’s Open Systems Spirit Work Solo Show from the close of last year on the plane. I’ve listened to that damn episode a number of times already, but this time, idk what it was, but it stuck, the concepts gelled, I got it. Maybe it was the cold brew coffee with the 2:45 AM wake up call chased with lonely tab of piracetam I’ve been saving - I don’t care, whatever happened it worked and I think I have a good idea of the way I am supposed to be taking a 2018 practice.

I came here last year, and was much less relaxed. I stopped to visit the Mission Dolores and wrote about it in a fumbling way here. I’m back, because I promised not to forget the dead there, but, I don’t know, this city, it bothers me for some reason on a magic-y spidey-sense and manifestation of the empirical agenda kind of way.

But I’m here, in the Mission District, I stopped at Four Barrel Coffee, which if it weren’t for Google Maps I wouldn’t have found because of course it doesn’t have a street facing sign, just well patina’ed wood and mustachioed gentlemen gazing balefully out of the window.

Back to the weirdness while I charge up my government approved tracking device. On Original Gordon’s advice (given freely in the Premium Member Q+A’s), I journeyed on this trip because I didn’t know where to take it. I magic’ed the hell out of it last time, some of my experience was peaceful and some of it was freaking terrifying (like the spontaneous slam a Lucifer Square in the mouth of a lion guardian at China Town’s Dragon Gate after invoking the Lord of the Crossroads part of it… Whatevs, I was trying for invincibility). My journeying has continued off and on all week, including on the plane. The cemetery really didn’t come up. Nor did the original Mission, where I tried to jailbreak a Cyprian treasure spell to fulfill the very first bit of advice (the very first question I asked over at Rune Soup) in an attempt to un-f*ck a longstanding carjacking of my financial situation brought about (I’m 99% certain) by another jailbroken, very ill-timed and half-finished treasure spell I attempted back in my twenties. I expected both of those to be prominent in the journeying, to really jump out, along with the Dragon Gate, but it didn’t happen.

What I did get was a very ‘A Dark Song’ (that movie f’ed me up Mr. Ghostly Harmless) vision of four gigantic angels standing guard at the corners of the primary Mission Dolores and an image of me collecting holy water. This linked up with a dram I had where I was in another church, pouring over sheets of unreadable dream lettered sheet music, listening to posh elites talk about nose jobs…

So that’s my first destination… to grab some holy water. I was shown that I am to anoint my new Seven Sorrows rosary, so I imagine I’ll be petitioning the Queen of Heaven to return my texts again, before moving on.

The Mission District seems much smaller this time around, and I don’t need my phone to get around. I walked up to take a peak at the San Fransisco Mint, stopped in the obligatory Whole Foods, and then made my way down to the Mission passing what I think was a gigantic Datura bush on the way. There was a fellow in front of his house, blithely watering a lovely urban garden, every inch of his skin (including his head and neck) covered in tattoos.

Arriving on the corner, the Mission rising above me into the cloudless sky, those Dark Song angel-giants popped into my head again, but this time, they were conflated with the bell tower, in fact, all bell towers. The idea was really ludicrous, at least it felt that way, but I was overwhelmed with the thought that all churches everywhere, those that had steeples anyway, were actually flanked by angelic soldier that stood as tall as their own towers. This tower fetish I’ve developed as a result of reading through Lovecraft’s work is getting a bit out of hand, but maybe that’s the point. The Tower in the tarot has always been so inscrutable and seemingly out-of-place, but now, after so many instances of towers in Lovecraft’s work and the connections I’ve made, this most odd of archetypes is beginning to congeal into something much deeper.

Angelic magic has been in the air a lot lately as well and really, doesn’t its weirdness, its un-humaness, really fit the Lovecraftian Magical Aesthetic well? Cosmic beings that live among humans but are in many ways not aligned with the human agenda, whose ways are unpredictable and chaotic…

I fulfilled the task set about for me during my journeying, anointing the rosary and praying the Seven Sorrows in the basilica. The ritual was the same as my last largely unimpressive attempt until I reached the sixth sorrow, when that familiar magic body buzz was kindled. With the seventh sorrow it came back, like psylocibin waves, and by the time I completed the prayer, I had fully altered consciousness. Deep gratitude to the organ and cello player practicing in the front of the church, you gave me a nice free jazz soundtrack for the act.

Even though my journeying did not indicate a need to return to the cemetery, I did. The first time, last year, it was cold, no contact. This year, after making the promise to return and fulfilling it, it genuinely felt like a warm hug, an instant calm filled with intrigue and a sense of mystery, not entirely unlike the film scene in our first imbrication.

IMBRICATIONS

I’ve got this thing for walking in the footsteps of Jimmy Stewart. To me, well, he’s not really an icon, but, I don’t know, a fixture in my psyche is probably a better word. I have a sister who is from Marquette, MI and when she was getting married up in Big Bay, above Marquette, the thing I was most excited about was that was where Anatomy of a Murder was filmed. I got to stay in Inn where the bar scenes were shot. I ate in the bar, right next to where the actual murder took place. I got real stalker-y and drove slow through the trailer park where the murderer (real and filmic) stayed. I was really into it. That said, I’m not a film geek, so I wasn’t aware that I had stumbled on another set of Mr. Stewart’s footsteps, until I saw the plaque above the Alfred Hitchcock bobble heads in the Cemetery gift shop (so much wrong with that sentence). A key scene in Vertigo was filmed in the cemetery I had just spent time in, communing with the oldest and only known dead in the city of San Fransisco. Replace me with Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak with various invisible spirit forms and my visit looked exactly like the scene below:

Obviously, a lot has gone down in the city of San Fransisco, musically, culturally, etc. If you’re not a metalhead, however, you might not be aware that (the bizarrely now nearly mainstream band) Slayer got their start in the Bay Area. The below video from the National Museum of American History (see what I’m saying about bizarre, well deserved, but bizarre) gives a really nice high level overview of the makers and influencers of so much music that made me the person I am today. Hint, they ain’t the Grateful Dead:

And lest you think to count them out, here they are again, in full force. I have deep memories attached to this song. The best of which is walking in the Lena, IL cemetery, with my dual cassette boom box, playing this song off of my treasured (it was hard to get music in the sticks in the eighties) Reign in Blood tape:

DOWN ON FASCINATION STREET

Our Lovecraft tale this week is a quick one by the name of Cool Air. It offers whiffs of Lovecraft’s experience in New York city, citing a four story brownstone on West Fourteenth Street as the local. The nameless narrator, our protagonist, is poor and hopping from rooming house to rooming house. Very likely a reality for HPL at some point. The very first lines set the scene for us:

“It is a mistake to fancy that horror is associated inextricably with darkness, silence, and solitude. I found it in the glare of the mid-afternoon, in the clangour of the metropolis, and in the teeming midst of a shabby and commonplace rooming house...”

Cool Air, more than most, gives our Lovecraftian Magic a place in the urban environment. Our protagonist, after some exposition, meets our archetype, one Doctor Muñoz, who is described as such:

“Exquisitely proportioned... clad in somewhat formal dress of perfect cut and fit... short iron-gray full beard and an old-fashioned pince-nez… full dark eyes... aquiline nose… He was the bitterest of sworn enemies to death, and had sunk his fortune and lost all his friends in a lifetime of bizarre experience that devoted to its bafflement and extirpation.”

This sentiment is very similar to that one feature in Whisperer in Darkness where the brains in jars are looked on as the ultimate evolution of human. Lovecraft is not a celebrator of death, but rather, his tales are an incantation to bing about longevity and the elevation of class. And maybe, when you think on it, most classical steampunk has this at its core as well. The anime, Steamboy, for example, has at its core a young poor man who is in possession of a great advancement in the science of the genre. He is seeking to use it for good, but in effect is about the business of raising his station. It is a magical aesthetic that incorporates and, in the case of Cool Air, depends on machines to keep the magic operant. This might seem unthinkable to many magicians, as the eschewing of technology and the urban environment is rampant among the neo-pagan and even the modern ceremonial magician. The Lovecraftian Magical Aesthetic looks past these false constraints into a world where technology and necromancy are complimentary, if not inseparable. The drama reaches a height when these machines begin to break down:

"One night [in the middle of October] about eleven the pump of the refrigerating machine broke down... The moribund hermit’s rage and fear, swelling to grotesque proportions, seemed likely to shatter what remained of his failing physique...”

While not our tarot card for the tale, Cool Air is certainly connected to the Hermit archetype in certain ways, but an urban hermit, a slightly different animal. Viewing this from the 21st c. this is a very solid connection to the internet culture, seeking digital immortality, living next to each other, yet avoiding their neighbors, the being alone in a crowd. Moreover, the narrator offers this nugget:

“There is... an infinite deal of pathos in the state of an eminent person who has come down in the world.”

Which shows more musings on class and station and the inevitable loss of that station. As the machine around Doctor Muñoz begin to fail, the magical reality of his existence (or psuedo-existence) begins to take over:

“A kind of growing horror, of outre and morbid cast, seemed to possess him. He talked of death incessantly, but laughed hollowly when such things as burial or funeral arrangements were gently suggested.”

Leaving us with a curious phrase, death without burial, a keeping of the dead among the living. We see this aesthetic growing with the activities of the Death Positive movement. Doctor Muñoz could be seen as their champion:

“He seemed about to hurl defiance at the death-daemon even as that ancient enemy seized him.”

Our tarot match for Cool Air is the Eight of Coins.

Our now familiar Etteilla deck offers us two key phrases. Fille Brune for the upright position and Usure for the reversed. The literal translations are Brunette, and to Wear. Brunette stems from the PIE root *bher-, which can mean either bright or brown and forms part of words like amphora, aquifer, bairn, or barrow - essentially a container. If we are to look a bit deeper at Cool Air, one of the underlying points the author is trying to make is that the body is merely the container for the soul, the intellect, the spirit of the individual. The verb phrase, to wear, helps to deepen the archetype.

From etymonline:

“The Germanic forms ‘were homonyms of the vb. for 'prevent, ward off, protect' (Goth. warjan, O.E. werian, etc.), and this was prob. a factor in their early displacement in most of the Gmc. languages’”

and so we see, that is another match for our good Doctor, whom not only clothed his living spirit in a decaying corpse, but used his machines to prevent and ward off the inevitable disintegration of his corporeal form, cheating his unbeatable enemy, death, if only for a time.

#Steampunk #Science #Relics

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