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axemetaphor · 3 years

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im definitely not ripping off my friend by making a list of au ideas i have no siree //gonna slap this under a readmore cause i. well i say a lot. all of the time. i tried so hard to format this Good but tumblr fucked me up i am so sorry

so first-off i know i already have one WIP AU (Auckland) on ao3 so i wont talk about That one cause like. spoilers. i actualyl have it like 80% created so its likely gonna truly get finished for once and i dont wanna ruin shit

the other one ive posted about is something me and ben (catgirlrepublic) have worked on together its not at all close to done or anything but it's. a fun little crossover. Between jdate and my fuckinuhm. Original characters story “Untitled Villains Project”. the sketches of the comic version ive started is actually my pinned post 👉👈 its like the first chunk of the story, i think half of part 1? yea.

Tldr john fucking Somehow is able t oget into contact with a certain curious scientist from another reality who’d just love to study the Soy Sauce, most certainly not for her own nefarious purposes

John and Dave meet up with the scientist, her name is Boss, and her lab assistant, Toxic, and after a bit of a preliminary Vibe Check where john determines her trustworthy (which Dave doesnt agree with,) the two agree to be taken to the world UVP is set in. from there they stay in Boss’s lab (big old fucking abandoned military lab). John and Toxic are fast friends due to mutual love-of-chaos. John n Dave get to fuckin, camp out on an air mattress.

The day after they arrive, the two get split up, not exactly intentionally; big plot points of UVP are liek. Fueled by Boss sending Toxic to go fetch her “research materials,” which are usually important artifacts

Fuckin side note i guess i have to explain my dumb bullshit: Boss’s, uh, field of expertise so to speak is actually fckin, basically the scientific study of magic and superpowers n shit like that. This shit’s all real in that world. Toxic’s got fuckin superpowers, so do 4 other main characters, whatever. It’s got a bit to do with spirituality, iss Boss’s hypothesis. So she has Toxic fetch important artifacts that might have “energies” to them. The thing is actually way more fuckin complictated than that, this is just Boss’s initial hypothesis.

Motherfucking anyways. So Boss gives Toxic a job to do, and John get excited about how Cool that sounds, and ends up going with Toxic, leaving Boss and Dave alone. Neither is thrilled about this. But Dave and Boss get to have a bit of conversation (while Toxic and John are off bonding and having a good time) and come to a… mutual grudging understanding of some kind. They still dont like each other though lmao

Theres gonna be deeper shit going on but we havent sorted it out yet/tbh havent like Written For It in a while but i still like thinking about it a lot lol

Also pretty sure our endgame is john and dave steal toxic and bring them back with em lmao boss is kind of not nice and toxic would most certainly be better off in Undisclosed. Actually theyd fucking love it. Theyd become a local cryptid im sure. Undisclosed’s mothman is a teleporting spike baby.

I have. Another crossover AU that i might. Post something about for halloween? Maybe? If i have it finished?

Crosses over into, you guessed it, another one of my original-character projects. God, am i vain or something?

I promise this is just because i think blue and dave should get to team up to beat up some monsters

Quick briefing on my fuckinuh. Original character story, this one doesnt have a name (yet? Idk lol my work never actually goes anywhere sso who gives a shit). It centers around two grim reapers, Red (26, bi woman) and Blue (22, aroace agender asshole). In this reality or whatever, grim reapers function kind of like low-level office workers. They get told who’s going to die + when by some middle-management types, and upper management only involve themselves when punishment needs to be doled out. These Higher-Ups can be seen as analogous to Korrok; they’re decidedly not human, never were, and fucking terrifyingly powerful. Additionally, grim reapers are sort of .. designed to be “background noise” people. In reality theyre supernatural beings and, uh, look Real Fuckin Weird (the whole deal has a neon aesthetic im terrible at drawing uwu) but most humans just perceive them like extras in a movie. A body’s there but the camera’s not focused on it.

To the narrative: the shit starts when Red n Blue get relocated to Undisclosed. Relocation is something that just happens every now and then to reapers; they usually work in teams, but they get split up into different cities to avoid any strong bonds forming (a counter-union strategy from the Higher-Ups).

Red, Blue, John and Dave end up running into each other for the first time in a McDonalds where John n Dave are getting some 4am “hey, we just survived another horrific monster fight” celebration burgers. John and Dave are the only two people who can see how… strange Red and Blue are. Nobody else notices.

John unintentionally pisses Blue off, leading to Blue whacking him upside the head with a dildo bat. They all four get kicked out of McDonald’s. Dave and Red both are less than thrilled

Blue and John end up resolving their differences, somehow. Red and Dave briefly bond over their dumbass best friends being, well, dumbasses. They all part ways amicably.

somehow-or-other (idk yet) they end up running into each other a few more times, and eventually john invites them over to his place, and the four (plus Amy now!) get to know each other a little better

while there, Blue gets a text about some guy who's gonna die and John offers to drive them to where that's gonna go down. they take him up on the offer and get to have a bit of one-on-one conversation

after that ordeal though Blue has had Enough of people and bails, leaving John to head home alone

theres a sort of mirror-development going on with the five of em. Red, John, and Amy would all like everyone to get along, though theyre a bit tentative about it (John moreso than the other two, actually, jsut cause. well Red n Blue could still be Sauce Monsters). Dave and Blue on the other hand do Not like people enough for this shit, and Dave's not unconvinced theyre Sauce Monsters. he will not trust them until proven he should

the story's kinda nebulous but i got an idea for some Shit going down that involves both Sauce Monsters and also the Higher-Ups to have some fuckin absolute chaos go down.

Oops! All Trans

Everybody is transgender. Everyone

Ive actually workshopped this one both with ben (catgirlrepublic) and ghost (ghost-wannabe) lmao its a fun lil concept ive had from the get-go cause i mean. What’s an internet tran gonna do other than hit all their favourite media with the Everyone’s Trans beam

Dave transitioned post-high school and faked his death for it. People go missing in Undisclosed all the damned time, after all. He moved to the next city over, transitioned fully, then came back as a completely new man. Yes i know this doesnt exactly fit with the “everyone knows David from high school” thing alright, hush.

Anytime anyone brings up John’s old best friend (pre-transition Dave) John throws an entire fit like an overdramatic grieving widow. Full-on sobbing “why would you bring her up?! I miss her so much—” to the point that people just stop bringing up because Jesus Christ That Sure Is Uncomfortable KJHGFDS.

This is a scheme he and Dave came up with prior to Dave leaving, though Dave hadnt exactly anticipated John putting on this much of a performance about it— but it’s stopped Dave from ever having tto hear his deadname again, so hey.

Amy transitioned sometime in middle school/early high school. Her family was super supportive and loved her a ton and most people just know her as Amy. she was super shy her whole life really so. Yeah. people just dont think to bring it up lmao also i Feel Like big jim would absolutely wallop anyone who gave her trouble of any kind

John’s nonbinary (genderfluid specifically) and not exactly Interested in transitioning ? like hes fine with how he is. mostly.

he came out to Dave in high school but hes not out to anyone else exactly. Maybe his bandmates. Probably any other trans person in Undisclosed knows, too, cause theyre safe to tell lmao. Johns mostly a “he/him out of convenience” kinda nb who’s cool with any pronouns but does prefer they/them most. Dave and Amy use they/them when the trio are alone

Also this is a totally self-indulgent caveat that i think would be great, Dave’s actually agender but because he's transmasc and transitioned when he thought there were really only two options, and being Boy at least felt less weird than being Girl, he just kind of assumed he was a dude. It’s only through a lot of (like fucking years and years hes probably in his 30s/40s when he puts 2 and 2 together on this one) talks about gender with John that he realizes he actually feels like No Gender. Masc aesthetic with none gender.

I Just Think It’d Be Neat Is All Okay

Also Amy came out to Dave about being trans early on in them seeing each other and his response was to get very nervous before blurting out “me too” and then just being too embarrassed to talk about it for the rest of the day. Hes got a lot of hangups on talking about it actually it takes years for him to get comfortable in that

by contrast when Amy comes out to John about it his response is to yell “EYYY ME TOO” and give her a big ol hug lmao

I think itd be neatt if Amy ran a like. Transfem help/advice blog on tumblr. Kind of helped-with by John who can give her transfem nb insight for certain asks. I also just think that would be neat.

Cowboy AU - i put this one last cause its got drawings to it actually. Theyll be at the bottom

Basically just. Hey you ever watched a western. I think they look neat

This is another one me n ben have come up with lol

The soy sauce and all that shit still exist, im not sure where korrok fits in yet but ill figure it out

Theres no real like solid narrative yet ? but heres the barebones of everybody’s arcs.

John

Johns an absolute troublemaker, Of Course. Hes wanted in several towns for absolutely stupid shit. Hes a loner who shows up, causes chaos, gets drunk, does some drugs, runs away if people get too mad at him

He definitely had the same kind of deal with the soy sauce as in canon— he was at some kind of party, somebody offered it, he took it cause why the fuck wouldnt he, now he can see monsters and shit

Hes kind of a mooch also. Like. dont let him stay in your barn man he’ll never fucking leave and drink all your booze.

He runs into Dave when they happen to just, cross paths in the same town. the bullshit John stirs up ends up involving Dave in a way that makes it seem like it's his fault too, and they both get run out of town

after that he just tags along after Dave. hes decided this guy's Cool he wants to stick around. Dave is pissed at first, but not enough to shoot him or anything, and eventually, John grows on him

Dave

Dave also is a loner but unlike John hes simply so fucking awkward and bad with people. He doesnt feel like he belongs anywhere so he just travels

He’s the stereotypical Lone Ranger tbh. He wanders from town to town, solving their problems, though hed deny its out of any moral obligation (it kinda is, a little bit, tbh. He does like feeling useful). He shows up, fixes things, leaves. He's kind of a legend but most people think he's hiding something dark. other people jsut know him as that guy who farted real loud in the middle of the saloon and promptly skipped town out of sheer embarrassment. you know how it goes with Dave

He ends up involved with the Soy Sauce when a snake (not Actually a snake,) bites him. The snake’s more like the wig-monsters, really. Anyway, it injects him with the soy sauce, he fucking trips balls in the middle of the desert, he can see monsters now

He runs into John and shit goes tits-up, as said, but they become traveling buddies after that. he'd never say so, but he's glad for the company, actually. it's nice. hes not used to companionship but he feels a strange kind of easiness hanging out with John....

not sure how the Monster Dave concept will like fit in to this reality but like. trust me i want it in here. I'll Figure It Out.

Amy

Amy’s been living in a town John and Dave end up passing through and she is very curious about these two new Handsome Strangers who claim to fight monsters and just kinda. Persistently tags along til they let her join for real

Her family’s all dead, unfortunately, just like in canon, and she’s been living alone for a few years before meeting John n Dave. she had nothing left in that town to stay for, she'd been fantasizing about escaping on wild adventures for a long time and this felt a little like a dream come true. (Dave still gives her a spiel about how Difficult it is, but really, her fantasies were pretty grounded-in-reality already. i jsut think thats how she is, yknow?)

Shes the first person to react to the whole “we see monsters” shit with a kind of “oh, okay. neat” kind of response lmao

John and Dave fix whatever the fuck is up with her town (maybe that’s where the Korrok shit can fit, who knows) and Amy ends up being integral to that. After, she insists they take her with them because “they need her now” and Dave just cant really say no. John too is very much "the more the merrier!" and hes actually glad to have another person along he loves people lmao

At the start she has long hair but after she joins them she chops it short with a knife for convenience

also she still is an amputee. justt. idk. it was a wagon/stagecoach accident rather than a car accident lmao. just to clarify since i hadnt mentioned it, i wouldnt rob her of her ghost hand or yknow. all of the significance to her character that Missing A Hand has. although also now im going to have to research what was used as painkillers way-back-when, but im betting shes still got, like, her pain pills, they probably had those, maybe i wouldnt have to try too hard there. old timey medicine could be WACK though,

Shitload

Yeah hes in tthis shit mostly cause i liked designing his cowboy self lmao

Hes a kid (like 16, 17, technically i think in those days that was more Young Man than Kid but whatever. Hes Young i mean.) who got possessed by the Worms out in the desert and, by his family’s perception, just went missing!

Hes also a wanderer, but he ended up at the same town john and dave met in, at that same time, and starts following them after, already aware of who/what they are.

He keeps his face covered 24/7. actually he covers a Majority of his self for reasons. kinda want him to be a slightly more horrifying Worm Entity rather than human idk,

I kinda dont have much for this boy yet sorry Shitload

images !

with some editing notes for me cause im doing a very specific aesthetic with this lmao. i might change some lil details/colours though ...... idk

im also kinda 🤔 about shitload's colour palette. i want things assoicated w the sauce to be black'n'red predominantly but i think his palette might mirror dave's too closely. also im working on a korrok design i jsut am too busy to draw it now

#jdate #john dies at the end #aus #erh. tthe hell do i tag this as #rambles.txt #long post #well let me know if youd wanna hear more or. or something #send an ask. or whatever #yaknow #:jazz hands:

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thefloorisbalaclava · 4 years

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pragma - part seventeen

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: morning smut and a sensitive topic

A/N: Just wanted to give a little heads up that pregnancy and the inability to get pregnant is discussed in this chapter. I know in the movie Frankie mentions having a kid but I’m gonna do my own thing!

Summary: You open up to Frankie about something important and worry that he may not be happy with you after but you’re his world and he makes sure you know it.

pragma masterlist

You can feel the warmth from the sun shining through the window. You can feel the soft sheets against your bare skin. But there’s something else. You’re barely awake but the familiar feeling of Frankie’s lips trail down your stomach and you smile. Your eyes are still closed as he moves lower, kissing your thigh before dipping between your legs. For just a moment you thought it was a dream but when you felt his tongue, you knew it was real. Frankie felt like waking you up in a special way this morning.

When you finally opened your eyes and reached down to run your fingers through his hair, he pulled away for a moment. “Good morning, dulzura.” The way he smiled then licked his lips made you bite yours.

“Oh, it’s good indeed.” You moaned as he lapped at you slowly. One hand gripped the sheets and the other pulled at his hair which he always seemed to love. “Good god Frankie…” He groaned against you which caused a delicious vibration. “Shit!”

He pulled away and kissed your thigh. “I love waking you up,” he said with a smile. “You make the prettiest sounds.”

“Francisco…I swear to god you better not fucking leave me ever again.”

He chuckled. “Nunca.” It was enough that he was waking you up this way, but now he was speaking Spanish while between your legs, his lips and chin glistening, and he had never looked sexier. Those sleepy, brown eyes and that rakish smirk just about did you in.

“You look downright handsome like this,” you told him.

“Between your legs?” he asked but you never got a chance to answer. He went back to work—kissing, licking, and whatever else he was doing that felt so damn good.

“Francisco!”

His eyes fluttered shut and he groaned against you at the sound of his name. That seemed to spur him on even more. He opened his eyes to look directly at as his tongue moved around you and inside you. It was like he was dying of thirst and you were his only source of nourishment. And when you came, he lapped it up and savored you, staying between your legs for as long as he could before you had to beg him to stop.

“Jesus…” you breathed, running your fingers through his hair weakly.

“Just Frankie, baby,” he joked before kissing your thigh and finally moving from between your legs.

“Well, that was a nice treat.” You ran your hand over his chest as he laid there looking proud of himself. “But I think…” Your hand moves lower and his breath hitches. “…I should return the favor.”

He swallowed hard then looked down at your hand. “You don’t have to.”

“Oh, but Francisco…” You climbed on top of him. “I want to.”

His hands went straight to your hips, fingers tickling you lightly making you giggle. “You are so goddamn beautiful first thing in the morning.”

“Only first thing in the morning?” you asked, leaning down to kiss him.

“All the fucking time, cariño. All the time.”

“Mmm.” You kissed him, cupping his face. “Ooo I feel stubble.” Truth be told, you had already felt it when he was between your legs.

“Am I letting it grow back?” he asked.

“Yup.” You kissed him again, reaching down to line him up with you. As you slid onto him, he gasped and his face twisted in pleasure.

“Easy, baby. Fuck…easy.” He grunted as you sat up straight and put your hands on his chest as he filled you completely. “Jesus,” he whispered.

“It’s just me, baby,” you teased, using his own words against him with smile.

You loved making love first thing in the morning. It was slow and patient. There was no rush. Frankie’s hands were gentle as they always were with you, but they were especially so right now. Even as he reached around to squeeze your ass, they were gentle. He gave you a soft smile as he sat up to wrap his arms around you.

“You’re perfect,” he said quietly, head resting against your breasts as you rocked your hips on him.

“No. You’re perfect.” You tugged his hair and he looked up at you. “Perfecto.”

He bit his lip as he began moving his hips with yours, slow and gentle. Having him inside you was a spiritual thing—you were connected body and soul, ascending to the heavens. Your gazes were locked on each other and you could see your life in his eyes, full of passion and joy and love.

You rested your forehead against his and closed your eyes. He took one of your hands and held onto it as you moved slightly faster, never wanting it to end. He looked at you in awe as you threw your head back and said his name.

“Francisco,” you gasped.

Hearing him say your name made you smile. His voice was like a song and he was singing just for you. And now he threw his head back and sang the loveliest song for—a mixture of your name, praise, and a few words in Spanish that you were sure were curses. He groaned as he flattened his palms against your back and held you steady so he could thrust up into you as he finished.

His head rested against your breasts for a while before he looked up at you and smiled sleepily.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi handsome.”

He eventually laid down and you rolled off of him carefully. “I need a cigarette,” he breathed.

“You smoke now?” you asked.

“No,” he chuckled, rolling out of bed to walk to the bathroom and clean up. When he walked out, he was carrying another washcloth just for you. Cleaning you up was one of his favorite things to do. He took his time, making sure he didn’t miss a thing, then got rid of the rag.

Climbing back into bed, he worked himself between your legs, but only to lay his head on your breasts and have you hold him.

“Are you…have you ever thought about…” He stammered a few times then got quiet.

“What is it?” You played with his hair and he sighed.

“Well, we’ve been together…a lot…and each time I…well, you know but nothing ever happens.” It was like he was speaking in code.

“What?”

He turned his head to look at you, resting his chin against your chest. “Are you worried about…getting pregnant?”

Your hand dropped from his head and you looked away. “No.”

“So…you’re on the pill?” he asked.

“No.”

Frankie furrowed his brow in concern and confusion. “Then…”

“I don’t think I can have kids, Frankie.” Saying it out loud hurt more than you thought it would. You were grateful for it with your ex-husband but now it devastated you. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

You pushed him off of you gently and rolled onto your side so he couldn’t see your face. “You were asking me because you want kids, right? You want a family…and I probably can’t give you one.”

“We don’t need kids to be a family. You know that, right?”

You turned away again. “You say that now but you’ll change your mind.”

“Never. I’m here for you. That’s it. We don’t have to have that traditional bullshit...white picket fence or whatever the fuck. Just us two. That’s what’s important.”

“You sure you won’t leave me for your ex?” you asked.

“What? Why the hell would you even ask that?” He sat up and turned you onto your back so he could look at your face.

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I want you. You’re the only one for me. We both tried going our separate ways but somehow still found a way back to each other. That’s gotta mean something, right?” He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “I mean…you want me, right?” His voice sounded so small, so broken.

“Of course I do.” You sat up and held his hand. “And now that I have you I never wanna let go.”

“You’re stuck with me,” he said, wiping his eyes.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have brought up the baby stuff…” He looked down, embarrassed, but you lifted his head up again.

“Sometimes we’re gonna have to talk about some tough things. It’s part of being with someone and being in love. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“You’re my favorite person, you know that?” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“I better be,” you giggled and he kissed you.

After a shower, you both decided to go for a walk to enjoy the beautiful weather. Frankie held your hand the entire time unless he was walking ahead to point out and show you something.

“We should go on a camping trip,” he suggested.

“I haven’t been camping since I was a Girl Scout.”

“You were a Girl Scout?” He laughed as you punched his arm. “Seriously, we should. I know some great spots.”

“I’d go anywhere and do anything with you, Francisco.”

“Skydiving?”

“Except for that. Do you remember how I was during that little helicopter ride? And you think I’d be willing to jump out of a fucking plane?” You scoffed and shook your head.

“I’d do it,” he said.

“You were spec ops, Frankie. You were probably jumping out of helicopters and planes all the time.”

“I was just a pilot.”

“Hm…is the government gonna set off the little chip in your head and kill you if you tell me more?” you quipped.

“You watch too many movies.” He stopped to take in the view on the bridge you were walking over. You sat up on the little stone wall as he rested on his forearms, staring at the river below. You took the hat from his head and put it on yours.

“I love your hat hair.”

He made a face then moved to stand between your legs. “Don’t make fun of me.” He held you tightly.

“I’m serious. I really like it. It’s adorable.”

“If you say so.”

You sat there holding him for a while, listening to the river flow below. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and Frankie was in your arms. A perfect day. He mumbled something into your shirt.

“What did you say?”

“I said I love you. Te quiero mucho.” He looked up at you. “Can I have my hat back now?”

“Okay…but you gotta kiss me first."

He did and you wanted it to last forever. His hands made their way under your shirt and you had to stop him.

“Frankie, we’re in public.”

“Yeah but no one’s coming.”

“Uh oh…Frankie the frisky flyboy is back.” You both laughed then you hopped down from the wall.

He took his hat from your head and put it back on. “I used the word frisky once and you’re never gonna let me live it down, are you?”

“Nope.” You walked ahead of him but he caught up and grabbed your hand then kissed it.

“So…are we going on that camping trip?” he asked.

“Sure, why not?”

Frankie talked about the trip the entire walk back home and you loved it. Seeing him so animated, so excited about something made you happy.

“You’re adorable,” you said as you walked through the door and kicked your shoes off.

“I am pretty cute, huh?”

“The cutest. And all mine.” You jumped into his arms and he carried you to the couch to set you down. He took his hat off and knelt in front of you, putting his head on your lap. “You wanna know something else?”

“Hm?” His eyes were already closing.

“You’re my favorite person.”

He smiled and finally got off the floor to lay out on the couch and put his head back on your lap. “You make me so happy.” Curling up, he closed his eyes again and drifted off to sleep.

“You make me happy too, Frankie.”

[eighteen]

Tags: @cable-kenobi @saltywintersoldat @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pedrosdoll @psychobillybunny @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @keeper0fthestars @mrsparknuts @thinemineours @huliabitch @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @lavenderl3mons @mrscrain-x7 @fioccodineveautunnale @gooddaykate @themilkface @tiffdawg @ms-dont-care @mus1caln0tes @awesomefandomsunited @seawhisperer @virtualxjournality @badassbaker @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @lokiaddicted @forever-rogue @sloantravels @javier-djarin @jawabear

#Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales x Reader #Francisco 'Catfish' Morales #Triple Frontier #Pedro Pascal #headcanon

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natamoko · 4 years

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UNEARTHED by @nakamoto

for @11thsense (3.7K)

(There is a reason why Aidonsvalley stands alone, makes its own decisions, attracts and denies, takes and leaves. There is a reason why it has a heart of its own.)

On the door of the Church of St. Agnes, a page was stamped: “1 PETER 2:4-6 — As you come to him, the living Stone - rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him - you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For in Scripture it says: See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.”

A crimson thumbprint was displayed alongside the words, and Raheem didn’t know whether to take it as some extremely obvious omen or something that should be ignored. He shrugged and went on his way. He had things to do. Nothing necessary, of course.

Aidonsvalley attracted a healthy amount of tourists due to its strange nature. The sun appeared at dawn and left at dusk just like it did everywhere else in the world. Everything worked as it should, but evidently something was amiss. The land chose what it acquired and what it discarded. It chose what it claimed and what it dismissed. And if you did everything right, (and you had to—those who didn’t could never die, those who didn’t would wander and lead a life of toil forever) then the land embraced you warmly enough and you would never get to leave. Raheem had been claimed not too long ago. Partially because of his transformation when he was fifteen, partially for a reason he had not yet understood. That knowledge was long overdue.

Aidonsvalley loved the supernatural, he knew that much.

Despite the wonders it did for the town’s tourism, he couldn’t help but mess with the newcomers everytime they arrived. They marvelled at the aging billboards (“Look, honey, this is the ‘56 ad! From the D’Arcy era; you know I love my beverage trivia—”) and the churches at every corner, more churches than convenience stores. They usually arrived in the evening times when it was cooler, because that was when the neon electronic advertisements would light up. No one ever donated their used dreams, but they sure loved staring at it.

Raheem, from a folding chair situated near a rhododendron bush, noted that these particular tourists looked alike, but not so much that you could mistake them for siblings. They were both wiry and tall, limp blonde hair; one was pulled back in almost identical ponytails, while the other was closely and badly shaven. Diligently poring over the maps in their hands.

The couple peered at the statue before them—Edmund Aidon, the founder of the town. His image was said to be greatly exaggerated, as his biceps were larger than what seemed humanly possible, and his canines were unusually blunt. Still, he looked important, so tourists adored him.

The woman, the one with a fascination for old Coca Cola television advertisements, tapped lightly against Aidon’s thigh. Her partner asked, “Isn’t it magnificent?”

“I’m not too sure,” she said, giving it another light knock before straightening and snapping a photo. “Smile, Edmund Aidon. 1834 to 1911. Timor dei in terra. I think that’s his own personal motto, or maybe something for the town. You studied Latin in school, Geoff, what does that say?”

“All I got was ‘terra’,” he said with a shrug, “Land. And are you okay? Why are you obsessed with that thing?”

Raheem had never offered the statue anything other than a sidewards glance. The tourists in the area generally camped near the lake, hoping to catch sight of the legendary local siren (or something close to that—there wasn’t a word to accurately describe her). Or sometimes they lingered near one of the many churches, over-analysing the scripts hung to the doorposts or trying to catch a word or two from one of the sermons. A rumour had started spreading amongst the tourists a while ago of demons being summoned in church, the house of God being used as a cover. As a demon himself, Raheem knew that was untrue. But its unlikeliness didn’t stop the persistent, eager tourists.

If they were going to remain here, poking at the statue and conversing, they should spend some money on him and make themselves useful. Raheem continued listening to their conversation, considering whether he should use his influence. But unfortunately, he wasn’t really in the mood to make them both walk off the pier, hand in hand, and become April’s supper, or cause them to develop a sudden intense fascination with his father’s restaurant.

The woman turned to her partner. Raheem could see her face from here, all sunburned skin and worry in her eyes. She scratched at her crooked nose and gave the statue one last tap. “I don’t know. It feels hollow, almost. Forgive me for this, but slightly corrugated, even.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” ‘Geoff’ said, not even bothering to check for himself. Idiot. “The guide says it’s made of marble. Marble doesn’t echo.”

“This does.” She sighed and stood up. “Whatever. We should head to the hotel now. I’m starving.”

• • •

It started with Alex losing sleep. Then his jaw would begin to grind against itself while he was both sleeping and awake. His eyes would redden and become sore, the skin on the tips of his fingers would begin ache before breaking and bleed in preparation of what would happen next.

It did not matter whether he was indoors or out, visible to the moon or hidden, awake or asleep. It was an inevitable part of his life. There would be a chanting in his head (run run run), the urge to find someone and pull them apart. Then there would be prey underneath his fingernails and between his teeth, blood would taste more like fear than copper, and the ground would move beneath his feet so quickly it would hear but beneath him. When the sun would rise he would become still and straighten and look eastwards, then shortly find himself waking on the forest floor. That was routine.

This moon was particularly awful. Coffee severely worsened things, made the readjusting of bones so much more painful, and he had been drinking it no less than ten hours ago in order to stay awake and supervise his younger sister’s recent dressmaking project. His parents were not pleased with him being left in charge, especially since the moon was so close, but there had been no one else.

Alex picked a piece of bone from between his teeth, imagining it came from his father’s femur or his mother’s skull. They were the more harmless Aidonsvalley folk—or, at least, the sort that believed themselves to be harmless when they were just weak—and he despised them for it. They were related to him but were not his family.

He suddenly felt around for his glasses’ case. He was not especially helpless without them, but they were the key to looking relatively normal. Only a select few people knew who he was. His moon-addled mind had concluded that his glasses were the key to stopping the residents of Aidonsvalley from looking too closely at him and figuring out exactly what was wrong.

Alex gave up and struggled to his feet, holding a tree for support. Within the forest stood an oak, with the beginnings of a treehouse balanced atop it.

He grinned. It’ll never be finished. Aidonsvalley chose what to keep and what to throw away, and buildings would never be included in the former. The most recent home that hadn’t been destroyed by the town had been built in the mid-twentieth century. It was just another strange part of the town that Alex was simply not particularly interested in solving. However he did like to reminisce about Anita Darlington’s attempt to build a windmill when Alex was younger. She was his aging neighbour, and spent an entire season constructing her windmill, which stood next to her vegetable garden.

It was struck by lightning less than an hour after it’s completion. Alex had been riding his bicycle next to her house when the incident occurred. He still remembered the flash in the sky moving downwards, his hammering heart, the smell of burning wood. He remembered the fright in his chest and Umi’s terrified face. He remembered how pleasant of a day it had been beforehand: warm, but not overbearingly so. Not a single rain-cloud had been sighted.

•••

“I’m telling you,” Raheem insisted, his hand holding onto Umi’s upper arm. “I’ve never seen someone stare at it for so long. You have a good eye—”

“So do you,” said Umi. He gave the statue a gentle knock and frowned. “It feels cheap. Too light. It’s almost like sandpaper. I’ve felt something like this before.”

A week had passed since the incident with the tourists, and Raheem had spent it scamming them by selling useless trinkets and completely fake stories about the origin of the town’s strangeness. He usually undertook little projects throughout the year, but it was summer and he deserved somewhat of a break. The ancient Coca Cola bottle he found buried in his garden and had subsequently sold to the blonde, observant woman would support his expensive lifestyle for at least a week at most.

If Raheem scraped the top layer of the soil in his garden, he could find enough things to set up his own museum. It was not a phenomena exclusive to him, and additionally, no one knew where all those things came from originally. Once, when uprooting weeds, one of the townsfolk, Amara, had discovered that her front garden was soaked in blood, not water. That explained why she couldn’t grow anything more demanding than cress.

Kel took Umi’s hand. He had sort of forced himself into this boring excuse of an adventure, but Raheem didn’t mind because he didn’t mind Kel. He was quite fond of anyone who sought out an entertaining experience.

“Never knew a tourist would work you up this much,” said Kel cheerfully, before pointing to a mark behind Edmund Aidon’s knee. “Hey, what’s this?”

“Looks like a square,” said Umi, leaning forward to see it clearer. “How did you spot this anyway?”

“Not sure,” answered Kel, despite obviously knowing that the mark had shifted itself, working up towards their line of sight so it could be seen. Those sort of things were ignored here. Everything had a life, and its own motives and ambitions. “In my opinion, it looks like a jackhammer, a bit. If you turn your head and squint.”

“No it does not,” said Raheem, annoyed. “It’s a cradle.”

Yes, it did appear to be a cradle the longer he looked at it. The thin bars grew clearer. Somehow he could tell it was wooden. But something about it all wasn’t right—it didn’t look like something carved into the statue. Rather, something that had been a part of it ever since it was constructed. Aidonsvalley didn’t have a symbol, official or unofficial. Something strange was certainly going on. Raheem wasn’t sure if he wanted to dig deeper.

“This is odd,” remarked Umi. “This is the only thing that survives Aidon—no other records as far as I know, and there’s something carved here. Should we look into it?”

“Maybe,” said Kel. “This isn’t very strange for this town, but it’ll be fun to investigate. But where? The library won’t be much help. They don’t keep records there.”

The only library in Aidonsvalley was this stuffy building from the early twentieth century that held absolutely nothing of value. Investigative material couldn’t be brought in for some reason or the other. It was all rejected in some form. The town archives had to be kept elsewhere because of it. As a demonstration of this fact, once, the mayor's niece Stephanie Murray attempted to trace the nearby lake’s history. Her paper had promptly burst into flames, and she decided to complete her project in a café maybe an hour or two away from the town. Really, the only thing the library had going for it was its complete Toni Morrison collection.

“They keep the town’s archive in the church on main street,” said Umi. “You know the one: St. Agnes. Apparently there’s a cellar underneath the altar, but I can’t be too sure.” He turned to Raheem, expressionless. Unsure. “Look, if you can find a way to get in, I’ll help you out. You know I’m not too certain.”

“I know,” replied Raheem brightly. “Doubting Thomas. Do you even think there’s something strange afoot?”

“Well there’s always something going on here,” said Umi, affronted. “If we get caught, it’s your fault. I’ll get Alex in on this as well, it’ll make things easier, I think.” Pause. “Do you want to get ice-cream with us?”

He waved a dismissive hand and turned back to Aidon. “Sure. Go ahead, I just need to check something.”

The two waved—Umi visibly confused but still sure in his own decision, Kel apprehensive and glancing around—and made their way to the nearby parlour.

Raheem placed his hand flat against the statue. Something shifted beneath his touch, he heard a faint noise like a beating drum, and he frowned.

Half an hour later on the other side of town, Alex stood at the lakeside. The lake beside Aidonsvalley (still technically within the town but somewhat shoved to the side) was the subject of many rumours. The tourists all cleared out before the sun had fully set, interested in what apparently went down beside the lake, but still in possession of some sense of self-preservation. Unfortunately, Alex did not have the aforementioned sense of self-preservation.

The only harm that could possibly befall him was if he lost his balance and fell down into the lake. There were pointed rocks below, carefully sharpened at dawn and at dusk, and if he pierced any part of his body, he most certainly would not survive that experience.

There was someone standing on the jetty above the lake. Alex recognised him as one of the Fallow brothers, three siblings from a family of mechanics. They handled the people who “washed up at the town’s shores,” fixed their cars, cleared their memories and sent them away. He was a high school student. Perfectly average. Nearly unnoticed. Graduating this fall.

And April was also below him, treading the water. Her hair floated on the surface. Alex averted his gaze, half out of respect and half to avoid her hypnotic technique. But he still saw her from the corner of his eyes, saw the way she unhinged her jaw and said the Fallow boy’s name: Matthew, in a voice she didn’t possess.

The boy moved closer to the ledge. He crouched and peered through the water. April’s power was clouding the air, turning it green. Matthew moved slowly, as if he were running through a lime cloud as if in a trance. Or a dream. Then he called for his mother and April responded in kind. He, foolishly, reached for the water, looking at her face and seeing his late mother instead of what she truly was. April grabbed his wrist and pulled.

He toppled over easily, and didn’t struggle until April sank her teeth into his neck. He flailed desperately and cried out from under the water. His movements slowed with every second until he finally fell still.

April emerged from the lake a moment later, her upper half collapsing on the ledge. She looked up at Alex and grinned. “It’s rude to watch a siren eat, you know.”

“Really?”

“No,” she said, “But it is an indicator that you’re the main entrée.” Her smile widened. “Kidding, I love you.”

Alex continued to watch the water. “He wasn’t claimed, you know. He can’t die until he gets things right. I’d expect to find him in the sewers. Or in the church.”

“Why’d you think I chose him?” April questioned.

They stared at each other for a moment before Alex reminded her of the time he saved her from these ‘low-quality’ whalers, as he dubbed it. She owed him, she even said that earlier. Then he told her that he needed her help breaking into her uncle’s church. Her hand shot out so fast, tightening around his earlobe, that he shouted and wobbled perilously on the edge.

“Idiot,” she chastised, “Why’d you wanna do that?”

April had this unfortunate habit of being constantly hesitant. It was not a con, for sure, but it certainly hindered any interesting activities Alex thought up. This was the wrong time to be careful, he reckoned, because if there was a mystery surrounding Aidonsvalley, then it was bound to be serious. She should know this.

“Something weird is happening,” said Alex, separating her fingers from around his ear and trying to keep his tone light. If he appeared to be desperate, she might decline just to fuck with him. “Raheem told me.”

“Raheem is a compulsive liar.”

“Not to me.”

He belatedly realised that it was the wrong thing to say.

“No,” April answered with a grin. “Not to you.”

Sensing a serious change of subject, Alex quickly arranged himself to a sitting position further up on the ledge. He balanced his chin against his palm and gave her a long look. She raised her brows in turn.

“Do you not have the stomach for this, April?”

“Of course I have the stomach for this,” she snapped. “I’m just careful, unlike you lot.” She paused. “I’ll help you plan your little heist, but don’t tell me what it’s for.” Despite herself, April grinned at him. “If that happens, I’ll get really interested. Things will all go down from there.”

•••

Raheem sat on the stone steps of St. Agnes, a book in hand. It was in French, a language he didn’t recall ever learning, but he could understand it perfectly. Strange. Even stranger was the fact that he could not walk past the altar for some reason, so Alex and Umi were the ones who had to retrieve the appropriate town records. Raheem was not pleased. He started this adventure, but had been forced to play whistleblower instead.

“How annoying,” he said as his phone began to ring.

“Found something about the town’s origins,” said Umi, breathing hard. From a distance, Raheem heard Alex laugh. “None about Edmund Aidon himself, though. I’m beginning to doubt his existence.”

“Tell me more. Is it interesting?”

A sharp inhale. “Oh, very.”

And it went like this:

The Preston’s were a family known for their hatred for supernatural creatures and how they exercised the aforementioned hatred. Once they were a few generations into the family practice of murder, several other families joined together with them to help achieve their shared goals. They called themselves The Cradle. Soon enough a town was founded for the five thousand or so members, and its name was unpronounceable.

About a century after the town’s creation, someone received word of a counterattack. In just a matter of days, vampires, werewolves and other supernaturals would band together and burn the town to the ground. Fearing something a little worse than death, the townsfolk hypocritically sought out a method to save them. They selected a random person in the town and made them live forever. The exact method, Umi stated, was not stated. Then the other townsfolk transformed themselves into the town—they knocked down the church and all the homes and created new walls out of their own flesh. The altar was made of bone. They drained the lake and replaced it with their own blood. The grass and the trees were fertilised with people, and the person they left behind was meant to bring them back once the danger had been averted, but they didn’t.

With a chill creeping down his spine, Raheem noted that the person might still be in Aidonsvalley. He glanced around in worry for a moment, as if the person might just be standing at his shoulder. Thankfully no such thing existed, but something else attracted his attention.

A porcelain statue near the church’s pillar, of a mother holding its child. It could be mistaken for Mary and the baby Jesus, but its features were hauntingly realistic and unlike the usual paintings of the Madonna and child. Beneath the porcelain was flesh, presumably. Raheem stared at the child holding his mother’s finger, sat in her lap, and felt a feeling both strong and indescribable.

“So presumably Aidon came across an already furnished yet empty town, then re-established it,” said Raheem, “But if that’s the case, wouldn’t there be anything about him? It’s like he just sprouted here.”

Things in this town tended to do that, he reminded himself. He was used to everything here. The tourist had described the statue in a strange manner. Slightly corrugated. That could mean skin, but it was hollow—

“There’s a chance that he was the person left behind,” said Umi slowly, “and no one ever thought to write it down since he’s a constant. You wouldn’t take note of the colour of the sky everyday? It’s either blue, red and sometimes black. We know that.”

They both hung up after Umi agreed to finish up shortly. Kel joined Raheem on the steps, very carefully not meeting his eyes. Perhaps the blue colour was too bright for this time at night, Raheem told himself.

The more Kel touched a stone step with his fingertips, the more it wore away until it revealed a portion of a face. Grey-skinned, open-mouthed, expression trapped somewhere between terror and exhilaration. The person’s eyes, fixed skywards, slowly lolled down to look directly at Kel. If its mouth was visible, Raheem would have received confirmation that it was smiling.

That was two incidents now, he stated privately as his heart jumped. The first was the cradle appearing just as Kel drew near, the second was the face.

When Umi and Alex returned and led the other two away, the stone replaced itself and the face was safely hidden away. As the four followed the path they had followed for well over a decade, Raheem distinctively felt like he was being watched. Perhaps it had always been this way, but now that he knew that Aidonsvalley was a real, living, breathing town, he felt it strongly.

There was one thing he knew for sure, though. When he would eventually sit in his living room, surrounded by relatives that were not family, and press his head against the wall, he would hear breathing. A deep inhale and exhale. It makes the whole world shake, but he’s the only one who feels it. He’s one of the only people that knows this town is made of living stone.

#im taking exams at the moment so if this feels rushed that's why #but anyway i just wanted to write an explanation on why aidonsvalley is Like This to some extent #inspiration came from that one time i heard something breathing in my living room wall while i was praying with my family #my writing

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patrickstargang · 4 years

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The Firelord’s Promise (Kyoshi fic)

Chapter 1: Nomad’s Land

Chapter 2: A Bureaucrat's Word

Chapter 3: Throw Away Your Honor, Rally In The Streets

Chapter 4: Unfortunate Truths

Chapter 5: A Change For The Better

Chapter 6: The Roles We’re Given

Chapter 7: To Save A Life

Final Chapter: I’ll Always Be With You

*this fic contains massive spoilers for Shadow of Kyoshi

The distance from Yokoya to the Fire Nation wasn’t particularly far, but sometimes a sky bison could be unreliable in long distances. It didn’t help that everyone from the estate (minus Aunt Mui) decided to join in on Kyoshi’s “diplomatic” meeting with the Firelord. Even the Flying Opera Company begrudgingly tagged along as back up. They weren’t in support of dabbling with the authorities but they still swore loyalty to their brothers and sisters.

They found themselves in a canyon, the slightly rougher areas of the Fire Nation wilderness that bordered the capital. To get to the capital was about a day’s journey on foot, but it was already nearing dusk. Everyone made camp while the sun was beginning to set.

Kyoshi stood away from the camp, attempting to earthbend, something that should be more than familiar to her. While her state of bending improved since the day Hei-ran arrived at the estate, Kyoshi still found herself struggling with bending. She lifted up a large chunk of the ground in front of her, but it began to swivel around as she tried to push it forward. It was fragile and unbalanced, crumbling before it could make impact with anything. Her face strained as she tried again, feeling like it was more of an effort than it should be.

Rangi noticed Kyoshi struggling, seeing the Avatar having to face the obstacle of basic bending was a sorry sight. But Rangi remembered her promise, and she knew what to do in a moment like this.

She walked up behind Kyoshi, observing the towering girl as she tried to hold another chunk of stone before it collapsed. “Having trouble?”

Kyoshi shook her head with a stoic face. Rangi then stood in front of her with a knowing smirk. “Are you sure?”

Kyoshi then remembered the promise she made to Rangi, to be more honest with her when she needed to. She exhaled, letting the fourth attempt at shifting earth fall to the ground.

“I’ve just been having trouble with bending lately. Like yesterday, I couldn’t even bend a puddle, now I can’t even bend my native element.”

Rangi began to understand the severity of the situation. At first, she thought her superstition about the Avatar not learning the elements in order was becoming true, but she knew that saying that wouldn’t help. So she had other ideas.

Rangi lightly tugged on the sleeve of Kyoshi’s kimono, getting her attention. “How about some firebending practice? This time we can actually start with fire fists.”

Rangi stood back and reeled her arm behind her and swiftly let out a quick but forceful flame from her fist, like a sudden fiery jab. Kyoshi observed, noting the delicate details she might have missed the first time she properly learned the technique. She copied her motions to the best of her ability, only to have produced a light spark from her knuckles. She hid her face in her hands, filled with aggravation.

“I don’t understand! I was fine a few days ago, now it’s like my bending disappeared overnight.”

Rangi’s concern grew, she wasn’t sure if this was something that she could help with. Jinpa stood off to the side listening to their conversation, but after Kyoshi’s last statement he decided to join the group.

“Maybe it has something to do with your chi flow,” said Jinpa while stroking his chin.

Kyoshi remembered her lessons about chi flow at the Air Temples. She learned about its place as the energy that connects all life, more or less the ultimate life source. But she also learned that it is the life force of the bender , giving them the powers they possess. And as a result, she learned about chi block, an instance where bending is rendered almost useless by some physical or mental obstacle. She wasn’t being attacked in any way so she crossed off physical obstacles from the possibilities. All that was left was the more tricky of the two.

“Honestly I’m surprised you haven’t had a chi block sooner, especially with your run-in with the Yellow Necks.”

Kyoshi remembered the injuries she took from her fight with Xu Ping, which should have been a complete block of her chi from everything the Monks told her. Yet she was still able to bend after her recovery. So why was this happening now?

Rangi wasn’t entirely knowledgeable about chi, as it was a concept that was never taught in-depth at the Academy. However, she tried to move the conversation in the right direction. “Is there a way to unblock her chi?”

“Well, one way to do that is to connect to your spiritual side. Sometimes this could mean visiting a spiritual place or something as simple as clearing your mind and emotions through meditation. It all depends on how bad your chi block is.”

It was strange for Kyoshi. In terms of being the Avatar, she still had trouble connecting with the spiritual, mainly since most of her encounters with it left her in dire situations. But this gave her an idea.

“Maybe I can try going into the Spirit World, there's nothing more spiritual than talking with your past lives, right?”

Jinpa thought about it for a moment and quickly nodded in agreement. “I don’t see why it couldn’t work.”

But then an air of doubt came over Kyoshi, she looked down. “But at the same time, I’ve only gotten it to work on rare occasions. The only thing I’ve noticed is that I was able to enter the Spirit World whenever I was in a spiritual place, and as far as I know, there aren’t any spiritual places near he-”

Suddenly, a rustling came from the bushes next to camp that caught everyone off guard. It stopped for a moment before rustling again. It also sounded as if voices were coming from them. At that point everyone became alert. Rangi held out a ball of fire in her hand and Kirima brought a stream out from her water skin, ready to attack. Kyoshi got into her earthbending stance before she remembered her chi block, awkwardly dropping her hands.

Rangi stepped toward the bush, a stern authority in her voice. “Who's there! Show yourself!”

Suddenly, four different people rolled out from the small bush. They were wearing light Fire Nation clothing with long sleeves and carried small bags and satchels. One of them, a somewhat scrawny man with a big beard and spectacles, held up his hands trying to stop the tension.

“Hey, hey, we mean no harm! We didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Kirima raised an eyebrow. “Oh really, then why don’t you explain what you're doing out here in the first place. Who are you people?”

At that moment, Jinpa noticed something about the group. They were all wearing necklaces, more specifically necklaces made from fire lilies. Jinpa’s eyes widened. He moved past Rangi to meet the group.

“You-your all nomads, aren’t you.”

The bearded man smiled at the sudden recognition. “Yes my good man, more specifically we’re Fire Nation nomads.”

Kirimia and Rangi slowly let their guard down, both confused at Jinpa’s interaction. He shook the bearded man’s hand, keeping his polite demeanor.

Kirima walked up to the group of nomads. “That still doesn’t explain what you're doing out here.”

“Why, we’re out on a spiritual journey to find enlightenment. We’re here to find Szeto’s Pillar.”

A feeling of suspicion came over Kirima. “Szeto’s what?”

The bearded man turned off to the side and pointed out into the distance. “Szeto’s Pillar.”

Surrounded by a sea of cooled molten rock stood a towering, monolithic pillar of stone. With its height, it was able to partially block out the sun as it was setting.

The bearded man continued to gaze off into the distance. “During the age of Avatar Szeto, one of the volcanos near the Fire Nation capital was erupting, causing mass hysteria and panic for the people. But Szeto stopped the magma flow from the safety of his stone pillar. Now, these volcanoes will stay dormant for years to come. This pillar has become a sort of sacred spot, a place to stand where one of the great Avatars once stood.”

This gave Kyoshi an idea. Not only did she have a spiritual place to unblock her chi, but this could be an opportunity to speak with Szeto. She was able to contact Kuruk and Yangchen, this could be the next step.

She turned to Rangi, whispering so the nomads wouldn’t overhear. “This might be my chance, if I can get my chi flow back by tomorrow we’ll be able to make it into the capital safely.”

Rangi let out a light chuckle, realizing this was Kyoshi’s way of asking to leave. “You don’t have to tell me twice, go on ahead.”

Kyoshi smiled and kissed Rangi on her forehead before starting a light jog towards the Pillar.

The bearded man halted his conversation with Jinpa to note Kyoshi’s sudden leave. “Gee, your friend there is pretty excited to see the Pillar.”

Jinpa nervously rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, she can be a bit….enthusiastic sometimes.”

The bearded man let out a hearty laugh before surveying the area. “Well, it looks like you're all settled in pretty nicely, I guess our journey can wait till tomorrow. But in the meantime….”

The bearded man and the other three nomads all pulled out jars filled with a strange looking liquid.

“Who wants to drink cactus juice and find spiritual enlightenment!”

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

Night quickly came over the canyon, the campfire lit up the darkness and spirits were high. Mostly. The nomads were already in full swing with some of their “spiritual” exercises. Jinpa decided to join in to varying degrees of success. He thought that cactus juice was a spiritual cleanser, like what onion-banana juice was back at the Air Temples. Now he was laughing hysterically at the wildlife and his own airbending while the nomads incoherently argued about who opened the most of their seven chakras.

Kirima and Wong were both amused and terrified at Jinpa’s state. The airbender was known to be somewhat of a stickler for good behavior, but now he had no regard for proper manners. Hei-ran looked as if her soul was leaving her body, watching everything that was unfolding alongside the other two members of the Flying Opera Company. She had her blackboard and chalk but even her words couldn’t communicate the confusion and distaste she felt. Atuat almost tried the cactus juice, but after seeing how Jinpa fared after trying it she decided against it.

Rangi half paid attention to the antics that were taking place, but part of her mind was elsewhere. There was a lot of uncertainty for what tomorrow would hold. Even though she was the Avatar’s bodyguard, she was also part of the Fire Nation military. Now she would have to face the idea of going against her own nation’s leader. She had fought to stop corruption in many other parts of the world, but it was a different beast to deal with corruption in her own home. If Zoryu had not kept his promise, then that means Rangi would have to go against her own code of honor.

But then another thought came to her. She had said before that she wished to share the greatness of the Fire Nation with the rest of the world, but with everything that was happening she was beginning to question how true that “greatness” really was. The more she thought about it, the more it upset her. The Saowan clan was charged not for the few people that were creating pushback, but for the entire clan itself. Chaejin and Huazo obviously had their hand in starting a commotion but there were those who were arrested without knowing what was even happening. It made her stomach churn.

But then she became much more grateful for Kyoshi, she could have pretended that Zoryu’s treatment of the Saowan clan never happened and let them all be imprisoned, or worse. But she didn’t. She became a headache for both Zoryu and the chancellors. The Firelord was trying to make an easy solution for a not so easy problem, which might cause greater harm to his people and his own status than he may realize. Kyoshi wasn’t out for what she believed was revenge, she was out for stopping injustice enacted by those who were the supposed preservers of justice. But the possibility of killing Zoryu was still a thorn in Rangi’s side, the consequences for it could be much greater than the Saowan’s imprisonment. What could Kyoshi be gaining if she went through with it?

Then on that thought, Rangi realized Kyoshi was still at the Pillar even though hours had already passed. She might be having trouble getting into the Spirit World. Rangi remembered her promise to Kyoshi, as she got up from her seat.

She leaned over to Atuat. “I’m going to go check up on her. Could you keep an eye on Jinpa for me?”

The healer chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll make sure he doesn’t embarrass himself...well any more than he already has.”

As she said that, Jinpa was reaching for another glass of cactus juice before Hei-ran took the drink out of his hands and threw it into the bushes.

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

The terrain of the cooled magma was uneven, like trying to maneuver through a valley filled with millions of small hills. Rangi skipped from the peak of each mound, getting closer to the Pillar. Once she arrived, she noticed a stone stairway around it, one that was built at some point after Szeto’s time. She ascended to the spiraling staircase, noting just how tall the Pillar actually was. Once she made it to the top, she found her Yokoya girl meditating.

At least that's what it looked like at first. As Rangi moved closer she could see the strain in Kyoshi’s brow, like someone trying their hardest to look as if they were at peace. Kyoshi let out a soft sigh and opened her eyes. She turned her head to see Rangi.

“Still having trouble?”

Kyoshi looked back out into the distance, feeling the soft breeze that such a high spot gave her. “Yeah….But I’m still not getting anywhere. I’m the only one who can bend the four elements and communicate with the Spirit World and right now I can do neither of those two things. Some Avatar I am, huh….”

Rangi gave her a concerned pout. “You seem to forget really quickly don’t you,” she said as she shifted to sit beside Kyoshi. “You may think that you have to face your Avatar duties alone, but you don’t. I’ll be here for you, even if I can only help a little.”

Kyoshi’s sardonic tone quickly changed to sincerity. She didn’t forget, but it was still nice to remember that Rangi meant what she said that night. “Thank you….”

“Now, maybe you just need a partner,” Rangi crossed her legs and put her hands together in the same position that Kyoshi was in. “Try breathing with me.”

Kyoshi straightened herself and closed her eyes, waiting for Rangi’s orders. It was like doing Horse stance again, except without the pain in her legs.

“Now do as I do…..In.”

Kyoshi inhaled at her command, letting it linger as long as it needed to.

“And out…..”

She exhaled through her nose. Already she had a greater sense of flow than she had when she was alone.

“In…..”

She inhaled again, she was fully in sync with Rangi. While the Avatar was uncertain of her many bending abilities, she felt comforted by the fact that she still had air on her side.

“And out….”

Kyoshi could feel Rangi’s warmth beside her, every breath like an ember slowly growing its flame. It was relaxing and stimulating at the same time.

Soon the words were fading out, but she still kept into the flow of her breathing before she was doing it instinctually. Sound began to fade out completely, her mind becoming clear. She stayed in that silence for a little bit.

Then she felt a cool air come over her, like that of a mist coming over the mountains. She slowly began to open her eyes, seeing the abstract clouds that enveloped the Spirit World before she heard a voice. A voice that sounded experienced yet rough.

“It’s about time you showed up, you're a few months late.”

#rise of kyoshi #shadow of kyoshi #avatar #atla #trok #tsok #kyoshi #rangi #jinpa #hei-ran #kirima #wong #atuat #fan fic #the firelords promise part 1 #the firelords promise chapter 1 #the firelords promise

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gloves94 · 4 years

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Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 33

Warnings: Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Zuko/OC Summary: “You have everything you’ve always wanted.” “No.” He said softly. “Not everything…” His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. “I guess not.” She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes.

Sunburn Chapter M A S T E R L I S T

My fanfiction M A S T E R L I S T

“MAI?!” The girl hissed out angrily as she looked at her brother, her eyes narrowed into angry slits that almost seemed comical at her emotional trigger.

“You know her?” He asked with a goofy smile on his face.

She face-palmed and sank to her feet sliding against the wall with an annoyed expression on her face. She didn’t even know where to begin when in regard to her ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend. The world was indeed a very, very small place.

“So- Mai is Zuko’s ex-girlfriend from before he dated you who he rebounded with when he returned to the Mainland?” He repeated in disbelief.

“Yes,” The other croaked beyond irritated.

“Great! Now she’ll never go out with me!” The other threw his hands up in the air in momentary frustration and sighed as he also slid down the temple’s wall to sit next to his sister. Both of their eyes focused on the night landscape before them.

“And him? Does the idiot know?” He looked at her seriously.

She was quiet for a moment. Her silence answering his question.

“And you’re not going to tell him? That’s not like you. What was that thing that grandpa would always say about plum blossoms?”

“Our lives, too, are fleeting," She quoted the phrase which was more than familiar to her. “I’ve got bigger things to worry about it,” She responded after a moment biting on her thumb lightly her mind elsewhere.

“Like that?” He let out a little snort. “Cause everything you’re going thru I’mgoing thru as well. You know? Mom, Dad, the colonies, defeating the Fire Lord and executing my vicious plans of vengeance-“

“God! Mecha!” She spoke sharply with a sudden snap. “You don’t get it. I’m not like you. I’m a spirit now and I don’t know what that means!”

Despite her frustrated tone he couldn’t help but let out a humorous huff. It was hard for him to take his sister seriously after witnessing a lifetime of childish tantrums.

“Aren’t spirits supposed to be kind, docile and selfless? Basically, everything that you’re not?” He chuckled a little teasing her. She shot him a side glare in return and let out an exhausted sigh pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“I have a terrible feeling about this. About the comet. This ill feeling, it won’t let me sleep.” She confessed for the first time. “I saw things when I went to the Sun Warrior Island. The dragons showed me visions…”

She flashed back to the unspoken visions of the comet. The day in which the skies would turn the color of blood and ash would rain. It wasn’t the astronomical event that made her feel uneasy. It was the frightful feeling that crawled into her stomach that came with the vision.

“Sozin’s comet. It’s a part of me.” She said softly in a breath.

“But you’re only human.”

“Yes,” she nodded he was correct. “But it’s part of the otherpart of me. The Sun. I canfeelit.”

Mecha gazed at his sister with genuine concern. He wished he knew what to say. That he had a joke or comment that would lighten her up or that could somehow ease her burden. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and a sympathetic smile. The two siblings stayed up talking all night. It’s not like she planned on sleeping either way.

“I still have much to learn about spirituality…” She trailed off. “Mecha, I feel like I’m running out of time,” she professed her voice breaking. The knots in her back further twisting due to stress.

Xxx

The sunrise came with the promise of a new day. Skies were clear and golden rays of light warmed the upper courtyard where the siblings of Yu Dao trained both their minds and bodies.

“Again!” She barked instructing him to firebend at her with all of her might. She was leaning on her knees breathing hard, pushing herself to her physical limits.

“Tsai, it’s sunrise. We should stop, maybe take a break. Doze off for a few?” Mecha said wiping some sweat off his furrowed brow. It was then that a loud humming filled the air. Doves and birds flocked away from the rumbling and the siblings stopped and ran to the edge of the courtyard just to witness a handful of Fire Nation air zeppelins ready to attack.

The building shook violently making the girl lose her balance and lean on her brother.

The Resistance who were sleeping in the level below were shaken awake by the violent explosion.

Bombs were hurled through the air the scent of powder filled the air as it quickly became clouded with dark soot.

Aang wasted no time in diving inside of the temple's chamber and airbending the massive doors shut protecting everybody that inside. Bombs resounded exploding outside rocking the foundation of the temple to its core.

“Where are Tsai and Mecha?” Aang looked around swiftly when he noticed the two empty sleeping rolls on the ground.

There was no time to look. The ceiling had already begun to crack. It only took another bomb for a piece of it to be dislodged and collapse.

Upstairs the siblings looked at the fleet in horror.

“I’d bet anything the Princess is inside one of those!” Mecha growled out, his fists clenched at the sides in fury. He gave a handful of steps back his eyes reflecting nothing but hatred as he once again became that dark being that to his sister was a stranger. “Go downstairs Tsai! You have to warn others!”

She was about to protest that they probably didn’t need a warning when he sprinted forward and blindly leapt to the air ship.

Tsai shouted after him stunned as she almost stumbled over the ledge. That reckless idiot!

She ran down the stairs to the first level of the courtyard dodging the fiery shards of bombs and rubble that seemed to collapse all around her. She stood before the abyss for a moment gazing down in hesitation and fear before leaping into the cloudy mist below. The wind whipped her hair and stung her body before she roughly and very ungracefully landed on her stomach a top of a massive airship.

She groaned as she painfully struggled to her feet. Her eyes adjusting to the thick mist until she saw an array of flames being blasted nearby.

“You never listen!” Her brother shouted loudly over the wind as he fought off several Fire Nation soldiers.

She looked up and saw a handful of soldiers rapidly climbing to the top of the airship. She looked from side to side and realized she was cornered. She opened her fingers and stretched them a little as she braced herself for what was coming.

She instinctively dodged a fire blast that was directed her way and ran towards a soldier lowering her body she quickly elbowed his jaw up and ducked dodging another blast and kicking the same soldier’s legs from underneath making him slip off the zeppelin and fall into the misty abyss below. She looked down and swallowed thickly at the thought of her own demise.

There was no time for that. She turned to see a fistful of flames coming her way and using the momentum of the attack stepped behind the attacker and simply lead him off the airship. It was then that she heard a loud thud and turned to see Zuko land on the roof of the zeppelin a couple of feet away from her.

Their confused expressions mirroring each other as they said each other’s names out loud.

“What are you doing here?” He asked blasting a ball of fire at an attacking soldier that stood behind the girl. He seemed to be the last one. Her eyes remained focused on him. “What are youdoing here?”

The two hadn't spoken since he had left to the Boiling Rock to save her brother and Sokka’s father and there was still that lingering tension in the air between them. One that only seemed to get heavier and more unbearably as time progressed.

“I’m sick of running. Today is the day I face Azula.” He said determinedly.

Last time he said that everything went to shit back in Ba Sing Se. This time she wouldn’t allow him to face Azula alone.

“You’re not the only one that’s excited to see her.” A cocky smirk stretched across her features as she slapped her fist into her other palm.

“A little help here?!” A third voice interrupted. Mecha was aboard the other Royal Airship fighting off the soldier’s that were unstoppably blasting towards Appa who was flying in circles in an attempt to escape.

“That’s Azula’s ship.” She looked at the large leap she would have to do if she wanted to reach the bottom part metal crate where her brother was struggling to fight about a dozen of soldiers.

He was too far; she wasn’t physically strong enough to make that kind of leap. She looked at her brother with heavy frustration from across the other zeppelin.

“I’m never going to make it!” Her eyebrows knotted in worry as she looked up at the airship in the near distance.

“You will,” Zuko spoke in a determined tone.

The wind was strong whipping both of their hairs around. He bent his knees slightly and interviewed his fingers together stretching his palms out so she could step on them.

She looked at him hard and for a moment and for a moment forgot they were presently standing a top of an air carrier in the middle of a chaotic battle. He looked different. More grown somehow. More secure. Something had definitely shifted in him since he arrived at the camp.

“Trust me.”

She looked between his hands to the large leap she would have to do to reach her brother.

Last time had trusted him, well things went to shit back in Ba Sing Se. With a shaky breath and a hesitant nod, she ran towards him and stepped on his hands. He lifted her up with a strong push and she leapt across from one air ship to the other barely managing to grasp the lower metal railing of the crate. She caught her breath and looked up to see her brother struggling.

“’Bout time!” He said before kneeing a soldier who was bent over in pain. She climbed to the crate’s railing and alongside her brother fought the soldier’s off until only the two stood together back to back. Both catching their ragged breaths.

“Zuko should be up with Azula right now,” Tsai said her eyes darting to look for the stairs that lead to the roof of the air ship.

“Come on! There’s no time to waste!” Mecha said ready to spring back into action.

Suddenly there was an explosion which violently shook the airship. Both siblings gripped onto the metal railings tightly.

“What was that?”

They looked up to see the Fire Nation’s prince rapidly falling through the air whooshing past them. A look of pure fear on his face as he fell.

Mecha was barely able to hold his sister back as she let out a horrifying soul splitting scream.

It all happened so fast Appa rapidly zoomed past them and dove towards the falling prince catching him midair in his saddle where Katara yanked him to safety.

Mecha’s grip loosened around his sister slightly. Tsai deflated for a moment. Taking a couple of rapid breaths. In disbelief at what had almost happened.

“That bitch!”She blasted gazing up to the roof. Maybe she was unable to see her, but she knew Azula was still on the ship. Appa approached them nearing the crate. With an eerily calm poise and lips drawn into a thin line she raised the back of her foot and pulled a hidden blade from the sole of her shoe. It was the same one that Azula had stabbed her with back in the Earth Kingdom.

“You’ve had a knife with you all along?” Mecha looked at her astounded. “All this time I thought you were completely defenseless!”

“Bold of you to assume that brother.” She said obtusely looking up at one of the propellers which made the airship stay afloat.

“Let’s go!” He said as he hopped down to Appa’s saddle. She quickly jammed the knife in the propeller and jumped down to the flying bison which zoomed away quickly.

Zuko let out a rough groan as he was tackled into a brass embrace. He was taken aback at the bold gesture.

‘Don’t ever do anything like that again!’She wanted to scream at him. To tell him off for almost falling to his death. For having given her the scare of a lifetime. However, the only thing she could manage was a soft exhale at the relief of having him in her arms again.

The zeppelin's propeller snapped due to the self-inflicted force and exploded damaging the bottom of the zeppelin tilting it to the side making Azula slide across the roof and fall to her dissolution.

All eyes were on her as she fell through the clouds her arms and legs flailing as she did. The prince and the girl from the colonies still in each other’s arms in a more loose embrace. Yet both still tense. She fisted his sleeve tightly watching the certain fate of the antagonist come to be fulfilled.

Zuko stared at Azula, unsure how he should feel as he rasped, "She's...not gonna make it."

Eyes wide Tsai didn't notice she had a tight grip she had on his arm. Her eyes also glued to the falling girl. A mixture of emotions stirring in her. She halted her breath petrified at what she was witnessing.

The group watched as blue fire erupted from Azula's feet, the force propelling her back towards the nearby cliff. She back flipped through the air and slammed into the rocky cliff's side. Her hair coming undone as she used her golden hair pin to dig into the rocks. Her hair fell loosely around her moving wildly with the wind. She slid to a stop and looked towards them, a satisfied smirk on her lips. The zeppelin lowered and lowered until it collapsed to the ground and eventually exploded.

"Of course, she did." Zuko sighed, looking away.

Tsai's body relaxed a little as she let out an exhausted breath, she didn’t realize she was still holding on to him. All of the sudden she felt hyper self-conscious at the bold display of affection she pulled away from him awkwardly her face burning in embarrassment from the many witnessing eyes. She turned away and leaned back against the saddle next to her brother.

"D-Don't be so reckless next time." She grumbled under her breath crossing her arms over her chest a lazy hand nervously toying with the sunstone necklace as she attempted to play it cool.

His body language mirrored hers as he let out an exhausted sigh and relaxed back into the saddle. No one would notice but the slightest of smiles grew on his face at the girl's concerned expression.

Toph winced at the familiar tension that suddenly flooded the air. God sometimes she just wanted to get both of their stupid faces and smash their heads together just so they could get it over with this stupid tension already.

Suki looked at the couple before her with a bewildered expression before turning to Sokka with a puzzling look. She could also feel that awkward emotion lingering in the air.

It was then that the Fire Nation siblings realized there was a new person amongst them. A pretty girl with short brown hair and dark azure eyes sitting next to Sokka

“Oh!” She said surprised suddenly feeling the exhaustion from having been up all night suddenly consume her. “Tsai, Sun Spirit, Former Fire Nation” She introduced herself. “This is my brother.”

xxx

They flew for several hours until it was past sundown. Until reaching a small island composed of volcanic black rocks and a mossy green hill. Where they set up camp for the night.

Aang, Toph, Mecha and Katara hopped off Appa when they landed ready to set up camp. Sokka helped Suki off.

"Uh, after you," Zuko said awkwardly as he danced around the edge of Appa's saddle holding the back of his neck and making space, so she'd walk past him. "Yeah, thanks," She said back just as awkwardly egg shelling around him. It had gotten to the point in which neither knew how to act around the other anymore. Tsai almost preferred it back when they were fighting over anything. Even that was better than this. She jumped off and loitered by Appa's side pretending to suddenly have an interest in geology when she looked at the nearby volcanic rocks.

"I never thanked you for bringing my brother back." She said shifting on her feet with that lingering tension in the air.

"Yeah," The other said his behavior mirroring hers. "Lucky we found him."

She starred at him intently for a moment. Pupils blown wide as she chuckled nervously unsure of how to proceed.

"Yeah," She repeated his words. "Thanks buddy," she drawled out painfully, awkwardly before lightly hitting his arm. He looked at her with a confused expression. Did she just call him buddy?

Sokka and Suki watched from a distance wincing at what they had just witnessed as they unpacked and set up their tents.

"That looks… painful," Suki grimaced at the cloud of tension that seemed to follow those too. "Tell me about it. You're lucky you didn't see them after their breakup." Sokka rolled his eyes at the memory of both teenagers gloomily sulking. They both saw Zuko go and set up his tent while the girl lingered around the saddle gathering her few belongings ready to set up. "Wait- they were a thing? Like actually?" Suki pressed wanting to know more of the camp gossip. “I mean- that hug earlier. It looked intense.”

"I know." Sokka responded in the same disbelieving tone as he tied his tent to the ground.

"They seem so… different?" Suki asked noting the contrast between the girl who was currently trying to set up her tent with her brother and was miserably failing at it. All of it falling on top of her while her sibling simply shook his head.

"Zuko is cool," Sokka said after a while. "You know- after he turned good and all that. Tsai's always been a dork. Luckily, she's also changed for good. I think you'd like her."

"A little help?" The red head said to her brother as she struggled to pitch their tent.

xxx

"Wow, camping." Aang mused idly in amusement as everyone began to finish their dinner. He laughed slightly and shook his head, "It really seems like old times again, doesn't it?"

"If you really want it to feel like old times," Zuko drawled blandly as he broke a piece of bread in half and gestured with one half vaguely, a small smirk tugging at his mouth, "I could, uhh...chase you around a while and try to capture you."

Everyone laughed in response. The Fire Nationers were happy to finally be accepted into the group. Aang was right. It was strangely nostalgic to be sitting in a circle like this in an island in the middle of nowhere. It reminded Tsai a little about the days she had spent as a runaway camping with Iroh and Zuko in caverns and the woods.

"Ha. Ha." Katara grumbled darkly from where she was sitting beside across the fire from the Fire Nationers. She did not find it humorous in the least. Her eyes glowered at the flames in the middle.

Still laughing slightly, Sokka raised his cup with a wide grin, "To Zuko and Tsai who knew after all those times they tried to snuff us out, today, they'd be our heroes." Sokka paused for a moment. “And Mecha,” He added awkwardly. “You didn’t chase us around, but still- another hero!”

Toph, Aang, Sokka and Suki all raised their cups and chorused, "Here, here!" Happy for the Fire Nation trio that had helped them escape Princess Azula’s wrath and the zeppelin hoards.

Aang and Toph who were sitting on either side of the scarred prince nudged him playfully with their elbows. Broad grins playing on their faces.

“I still can’t believe you blew up a zeppelin!” Sokka said excitedly turning his attention to the red head that was sitting across from him and Suki. She smiled sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck.

“That was pretty lit.” Mecha elbowed her proud of his younger sister.

The Fire Nationers all smiled warmly at the praises from the group.

"I'm touched.” Zuko said. “I don't deserve this," he said addressing everyone.

Mecha was about to make a joke but went silent when he heard a bitter tone speak up in the group. He looked at the waterbender who wore a sour expression on her face oddly.

"Yeah, no kidding." Katara muttered sarcastically, her eyes flickering up to glare at the former Fire Nationers. The group stared at her in surprise.

Mecha didn’t know how to whisper but he still tried. “Hey, what’s her deal?” He asked his sister lowly which was still pretty audible to the rest of the group.

"Something the matter Katara?" The red head who was sitting in between Aang and her brother glowered from across the campsite. Her blood pressure instantly going from zero to a hundred.

Katara continued to glare with menace.

"Don't tell me you two are going to go at it again," Toph shook her head and rested her head on her palms. Aang lowered his chopsticks and leaned back already sensing a fight about to break out between the clashing girls.

"We've had enough fighting for today. Can we just have an evening of peace?" Aang sighed tiredly as his eyes bounced back from blue to red across the fire pit.

"Fighting?" Sokka asked cluelessly his eyes also darting from one girl to the other as angry sparks flying between their eyes.

"Tsai almost bit my arm off yesterday! You'd think she was some kind of animal or something!" Katara accused pointing at her bandaged shoulder.

"Rich of you to play the victim Katara. Since youstarted it and pulled my hair!" The other shot back just as angrily touching her wavy hair.

The gang looked between the two girls and saw the small marks, bandages and scratches that covered random parts of their bodies and finally put two and two together. Both girls growled at each other, fists clenched at the sides before standing up in threatening stances. For a moment it really did look like they were going to go at it again but instead marched away in opposite directions.

"What's up with them?" Sokka questioned, quirking a brow at his sister's retreating form and back to the red heads.

“Is dinner always this eventful?” The young man from Yu Dao laughed nervously.

Zuko stood up and looked between the two retreating figures. He knew that Tsai and Katara had a strong distaste for each other. Hell, she had it for him too. He knew that Katara had some type of grudge or prejudiced towards Fire Nationers. She partook in a discrimination that was very obvious. She had made it the most obvious when she faked that note to try and get the two of them kicked off the camp.

Without another word he followed after Katara.

Katara stood a distance away by the island's ledge gazing at the dark ocean before her. She heard soft footsteps and her eyes narrowed in surprise, frown crossing her face when she saw Zuko standing behind her.

"This isn't fair." Zuko stated firmly, throwing his arms out to the side slightly in frustration, "What is with you? Everyone else seems to trust us now. We're all a team."

"Oh, everyone trusts you now?" Katara turned around and snapped at him. She put her hand on her chest and spat, "I trusted you first. Remember? Back in Ba Sing Se?" She swung her arm out and jabbed a finger at the ocean. "I trusted Tsai in the Northern Water Tribe and what happened? You bothturned and betrayed us." She flung her arms out for emphasis as Zuko looked down guiltily, "Betrayed all of us."

"She didn't betray you Katara and you know that. I admit that I did and for that I am sorry, but I've changed."

Katara remained silent and turned away from him.

Zuko looked up and sighed a little before asking, "What can we do to make it up to you?"

"You really want to know?" Katara demanded as she walked towards him, "Hmm, maybe you could re-conquer Ba Sing Se in the name of the Earth King. Or," She leaned closer to him and Zuko stepped back, staring at her in speechless silence, "I know! You could bring my mother back!"

Xxx

The girl from the colonies sat near a rocky cliff on the side of the island, the toyed with a small volcanic rock in her hand as her eyes bored into the horizon. She found herself doing more than often now a days. Suddenly she heard a pair of soft footsteps behind.

“I don’t want to talk about it Mecha!” Tsai shouted over her shoulder as she rose to her feet from the edge of the landscape returning to the greenery.

“Fine, fine,” The boy raised up his hands defensively. “I don’t meddle with women’s issues.” He shook his head in a no. “I know better.”

“This goes beyond a girly quarrel. It’s actually very severe. Katara is a xenophobe.” She explained.

“A what?” He retorted confused thinking she had just spit out a magic spell or something. “A xenophobe, she’s prejudiced against Fire Nationer’s. Blames us for her mother’s death for the war- Not that I blame her of course but- Believe me when I tell you I’ve tried to make peace with her, but she won’t budge.” She sighed and dropped her arms to her sides.

“Why don’t you just try and talk to her?” He suggested “Aren’t you all for diplomacy and all that?” A coy smirk on his features at the fact he had cleverly manipulated his sister into talking about the issue. “Believe me. I’ve tried. We’re past the point of talking or diplomacy.” She turned to the ocean and angrily threw the rock she had been holding to it only for it to vanish in the darkness ahead.

“Yeah? Zuko went to talk to her.”

“Really?” She turned to face him her tone a little louder than she would’ve wanted. Her attention shifting much too fast.

“You know earlier I really thought you were going to throw yourself after him.” He said crossing his arms over his chest. A more serious expression on his features.

“I still don’t like the prick and as your brother I think you can do better.” He added. “But if you care so much for him and he’s down to bring down his evil dad and sister then- I’m willing to give him a second chance.” She turned away flustered by the topic.

“Our lives, too, are fleeting,"He sang lightly as he quoted their grandfather. “If today wasn’t evidence enough of that.” He added stepping next to her as they both looked into the distance.

Tsai winced slightly at the memory of Zuko falling into the misty abyss. The memory still fresh in her mind. She could still remember the look of horror on his face and the gut wrenching feeling she felt at the horrifying sight.

“I already told you I’ve got more pressing matters to deal with. Besides,” she let out a weak scoff. “Those days are over.”

“He’s got to be blind or something. You too. Specially if the two of you can’t see how much you two obviouslystill care about the other.”

Tsai exhaled a frustrated sigh through her nostrils, lips pressed into a serious expression as she stood in denial arms now crossed over her chest. She didn’t want to think or even acknowledge the ghastly feeling that had come over her when she saw him fall off the aircraft. For a moment there she really thought that she had lost him. The thought- the awful thought… She sighed and lowered her head, her hand mindlessly playing with the sun stone necklace a nervous habit she had formed.

“Even I can see it. You two have to talk.” A third voice said.

“TOPH!”She jumped to her feet instantly unnerved hairs standing up in the back of her head.

“AH!”He jumped to the side taken aback by her stealth. “Where did you come from?!”

“Why-“ Tsai breathed through her nostrils she gritted teeth feeling invaded when having such a private conversation. “-Were you eavesdropping?”

Toph stood cooly before the siblings. Her arms crossed over her chest as she glowered at them with an easy smirk.

“Hotman over here said the world ‘blind’. Naturally I thought you two were talking about me.”

The red head face palmed and dragged her face in frustration.

“Toph,” Mecha began. “Is my sister not in love with the stupid jerk prince?” He asked bluntly.

“Hey!” She protested face turning a darker shade of red from the embarrassment. Why was thisaspect of her life up for discussion like this?

“It’s so obvious,” Toph rolled her light eyes. “There’s so much tension between you two I bet I could bend right through it!” She said doing a chop to the midair. “Don’t even get me started on your heartbeat. It’s pathetic.”

Tsai stretched out her hands in a menacing motion to strangle the younger girl. Her eyes wide, face even redder at having been exposed in such a blunt way.

“You two make me nauseous.” Toph made a gagging motion as she held on to her stomach. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel, make up, make out and get it over with?” She suggested.

“…Make out?” Mecha said slowly the edge of his eyes slightly twitching with annoyance a familiar tick they had both inherited from their mother. His protective older brother side showing.

“Thanks guys,” She somehow managed to say. She stood up a little straighter and relaxed her shoulders. “I just don’t see the point. I’m serious. We have bigger things in our plates. What am I going to do about my spiritual identity crisis? Mecha our family? The colonies? The Fire Lord-“

“Sound like avoidance to me,” Toph sniggered viciously. Her brother glared at her with and knowing arched eyebrow. “As your brother and best friend, I think you should do it. Life is too short.”

“Yeah. Just get it over with,” Toph said giving the girl a painful punch behind "What's the worst that can happen?" Tsai looked over and rubbed her arm where Toph had hit her sulking as she walked back to the camp. How could a conversation about her issues with Katara had turned into this?

“Are you sure about this?” The young man that was at least twice Toph’s height asked looking down with a questioning expression. “Nope,” She responded popping the syllables. “But it sure is fun!”

Xxx

Tsai in took and exhaled a large breath of air as she paced nervously outside of Zuko’s tent.

“Yeah… So… I know I broke up with you and I know this sounds even crazier, but I kind of lov- No, no, he’s going to think I’m a lunatic!” She lightly tugged at her hair in frustration. “Why is this so hard?!” She cried out to no one in particular.

‘OK. Just suck it up. And say it. Word vomit. It’s just a fact. Just get it out of the way.’ She mentally prepped herself doing a little dance outside the tent. ‘Here goes nothing…’ She swallowed nervously before peering inside of the tent.

Her expression instantly dropping in a cringy grimace.

Suki was sitting sprawled out on a bed roll. Her back to the entrance of the tent and she looked over her shoulder holding a seductive pose.

Wrong tent.

Suki jumped and sat up more properly beyond embarrassed.

“Uh- I thought this was Zuko’s tent,” She explained nervously about to run for the hills and hide her head under a rock or something.

“Oh,” Suki said. “I just saw him, he went into Sokka’s tent. I didn’t know you two were thatserious.”

She let out a little hum and nodded awkwardly. Maybe- maybe talking to an actual girl her age would help. Afterall Mecha just did things without much thought and as wise as Toph was the younger girl could be rather tactless sometimes.

“Um, no, I just wanted to talk to him. That’s all.” She admitted sheepishly fully stepping into the tent. “You know, Sokka talks about you ALLthe time.” She said in a laxer tone, one which was friendlier and more inviting.

“Really?”The Suki inquired her interest piquing.

Moments later the two girls bonded as they shared stories of both love and war. Both fields in which anything and everything was possible.

“I can't believe you forgave him!” Suki said aghast when Tsai finished sharing her story. The girl from Yu Dao sat on the ground with both of her legs crossed underneath her body as Suki braided her medium length hair. Both were wearing mushed up used tea leave facial which were apparently good for blemishes.

“Trust me. I can’t believe it either,” she confessed. “I can't believe I'm asking him to get back together.”

“Do you want to?” Suki asked after a while letting go of her new friend’s hair.

Sokka hadn’t been wrong. Suki did like Tsai and the feeling was mutual. It was hard enough to find a girl that had her own priorities straight yet still wanted to dish about boys.

“It’s… hard.” The other managed with a painful expression. “We hurt each other, and I still care about him a lot. It’s just… Scary.”

“You almost lost him today.” Suki turned around to allow the other girl to brush her short hair.

There it was again. That reminder that kept on knocking in the door of her heart. Life really was too short to live in doubt. Specially during times of war. Especially when there was that haunting vision about what would happen the day of Sozin’s comet. That ill specter of a feeling that made the girl feel sick to her core. What if she didn't survive the final battle? Even worse- what if hedidn't?

“So, you think you would’ve been okay living the rest of your life without him knowing how you feel?” Suki asked and the girl stopped brushing for a moment. Pausing as she knelt deep in thought. Again, there it was…

“You’re right.” Tsai admitted the truth to herself. It was just as her grandfather had always said when referring to the plum blossoms in the palace’s gardens. “It’s like grandfather would’ve said 'Our lives, too, are fleeting.'"

Suki turned and gave her an odd look.

“What about you and Sokka? I’d love to hear your story.”

Suki proceeded to tell Tsai how they had met in Kyoshi Island and how she had schooled him in warrior training and how their relationship had evolved past that over time. Loud giggling and laughing could be heard coming out from Suki’s tent. The Kyoshi Warrior found it more than refreshing to confide in another girl that was nother boyfriend’s sister. Sokka glared from the outside of his tent. Not only had Zuko already cockblocked him once now Tsai played him dirty like this. Still, determined he poked his head into the tent and saw a horrible sight. Both girls were wearing facials on their faces, braiding and brushing each other’s hair.

“Sokka!” Suki gasped shocked and turned away not wanting him to see her with all that junk on her skin.

“Go away Sokka! We’re having a sleep over!” Tsai shot as she threw one of her shoes in his direction.

Sokka stepped out frustrated with a light frown. Guess it just wasn’t going to happen for him tonight.

xxx

FIRST https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/621142853126602752/sunburn-prince-zuko-1

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#prince zuko #zukoxreader #Zuko x oc #Zuko x you #zuko #zuko imagine #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar fanfic #avatar x oc #avatar fanfiction #atla #atla fanfic #oc #original character #sunburn

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giftofshewbread · 3 years

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HERE IT COMES !

By Daymond DuckPublished on: January 30, 2021

It is my desire to stop writing about the election and direct more of my time to the fulfillment of Bible prophecy, but the election has major prophetic implications, and the two issues cannot be separated.

Pres. Trump promised a peaceful transition of power, and he and Melania left the White House with grace and humility.

Here are some quotes that may interest you:

“The purpose of the New World Order is to bring the world into a world government” (Winston Churchill).

“Out of these troubled times [out of the Persian Gulf War], our [America’s] fifth objective—a new world order—can emerge” (Geo. H. W. Bush, 1990).

“I learned to love the New World Order” (Joe Biden, Apr. 23, 1992).

“The hierarchy [of the U.N.], among other things, had called for world government to be achieved in STAGES through the forming of world administrative REGIONS. This was in accordance with the U.N. charter, which encourages the implementation and administration of world government on a REGIONAL basis” (Edmund J. Osmanneczyk, 1995).

“What I am trying to do [to build a global system] is to promote a process of reorganization of the world” (Bill Clinton, 1997).

“Within four years, we will see the beginning of a new international order” (Henry Kissinger 2008).

“The burdens of global citizenship bind us together” (Barack Obama, July 24, 2008).

“To bring about the New World Order, we have to have a new consciousness” [a new spiritual ethic, or new world religion] (Henry Kissinger, Jan. 12, 2009).

Concerning who will head up the New World Order, “We’re trusting that he will be President Obama” (Henry Kissinger, 2009).

“The affirmative task we have now is to actually create a new world order” (Then Vice-Pres. Joe Biden, Apr. 5, 2013).

“I believe we and mainly you [the U.S. Air Force Academy graduating class] have an incredible opportunity to lead in shaping a new world order for the 21st century…” (Joe Biden, May 28, 2014).

“You are about to graduate into a complex and borderless world” (Biden’s new Climate Change Czar, John Kerry, May 6, 2016).

Globalists have big plans, but they are not in control; they just think they are.

The more they reject God; and the more they turn against His people; and the closer they move toward world government; the more they stir His wrath, and the closer God’s people are to the Rapture.

Here are some of my thoughts on current events:

On Jan. 20, 2021, the “America First” president was replaced with a “Fundamentally Transform America” president.

This “fundamental transformation” of America involves the submission of America to a godless world government (the New World Order, The Great Reset, the U.N. 2030 Sustainable Development goals, etc.).

Biden has already announced his intent to undo Trump’s America First policies, rejoin the Paris Climate Accords, rejoin the World Health Organization, halt America’s departure from the World Trade Organization, halt construction on the Keystone Pipeline and border wall, review and reverse more than 100 Trump policies on the environment, stop immigration enforcement in the U.S., and more.

Biden announced support for things (other than world government) that go against the Scriptures: taxpayer-funded abortions for everyone up to the moment of birth (murder of babies), nominate judges that support abortion, allow gays to serve openly in the military, reinstate Title IX that lets transgenders use bathrooms according to their gender identity (men use women’s bathrooms, etc.), etc. Think about this. Through a Political Action Committee (PAC), Planned Parenthood gave more than 27 million dollars to Biden’s election, and now Biden is going to give Planned Parenthood millions and millions of taxpayer dollars to kill babies.

Biden has already cut America’s defense budget, cut the Space Force budget, transformed money budgeted for America’s nuclear arsenal to FEMA, and threatened to fire at least two Generals (one in the Army and another in the Air Force) that questioned these cuts. There is speculation that a military purge is coming to replace patriot-minded officers with officers that will pledge allegiance to the U.N. Here is a link to an article about this: https://beforeitsnews.com/blogging-citizen-journalism/2021/01/generals-tell-trump-we-got-your-back-2649650.html

Biden dissolved the 1776 Commission designed to teach patriotism in public schools and replaced it with a group “to assist agencies in assessing equity with respect to race, ethnicity, religion, income, geography, gender identity, sexual orientation, and disability.”

Simply put, “Here It Comes” means that I believe the Biden administration intends to support policies that will lead to the rise of the Ten Kings, world government, the Antichrist, the False Prophet, tracking everyone, godlessness, the Tribulation Period, etc.

The shadow government controls every branch of the U.S. government, and, as I see it, there will be a surge forward with no going back. In his first six days in office, Biden signed more executive orders than the last four presidents combined (and one of his officials said there are more to come).

How long it will take to bring in the world government is unknown, but I expect the shadow government to push Biden to accomplish as much as he can before the next election two years from now.

No one knows the day or hour of the Rapture, but whenever it happens, the Restrainer will be removed, and godless world government will go into overdrive.

Here are several stories that made the news:

One, Biden asked a “Christian” preacher friend to offer the benediction at his inauguration, and the preacher closed his prayer, not in the name of Jesus, but “in the strong name of our collective faith.”

Praying in “the strong name of our collective faith” is the kind of reprobate thinking that left God out of the Democrat Party Platform.

Their total one-party control of the U.S. government will cause them to fully support a godless one-world religion and government.

The Bible clearly teaches that God will put up with this godless world government nonsense for 7 years, but if He did not bring it to an end, no flesh would be saved.

The pastor’s prayer is also evidence of a sick, lukewarm Church that tickles people’s ears instead of proclaiming the truth.

Two, on Jan. 23, 2021, a bomb exploded at First Works Baptist Church in El Monte, Cal.

Hate messages were painted on the inside walls of the church.

Several news organizations ignored the bombing and blamed the church for preaching against same-sex marriage.

These people appear to believe it is okay to blow up a church if the preacher preaches the Scriptures.

Three, on Jan. 20, 2021, an unidentified person in the U.S. State Dept. decided that the U.S. Ambassador to Israel will now be called the U.S. Ambassador to Israel, the West Bank, and Gaza.

The person that made that decision posted it on the State Dept. website, and it appears that whoever did it does not believe that the West Bank and Gaza should be part of Israel.

Some say the Biden administration also plans to change the U.S. recognition of the Golan Heights as part of Israel.

Two weeks ago, I wrote that God had a reason for putting Trump in office, He has a reason for removing Trump, and He has a reason for putting Biden in office.

I tend to believe God is ready to let world government advance, and He removed Trump because Trump would have been in the way.

I also tend to believe that God put Biden in office because He wants Israel to trust Him, not Trump or the U.S., for protection.

Unfortunately, most Christians do not know enough Bible prophecy to recognize the danger that dividing Israel poses to America.

According to the Bible, those that try to cut Israel into pieces at the end of the age will be cut into pieces.

(Note: Before this article was sent to the editor, the State Dept. reversed itself on the issue and went back to calling the U.S. Ambassador the Ambassador to Israel.)

Four, concerning pestilences, my last week’s article noted that a group of U.S. doctors believe Ivermectin is safe and effective for preventing Covid in most people.

The article also noted that India has developed an inexpensive, effective, and safe Covid Ivermectin treatment kit.

On Jan. 19, 2021, it was reported that the National Institutes of Health (NIH) has upgraded Ivermectin from “against the drug” to “not for or against the drug.”

According to the article, this opens the door for doctors to feel safe in prescribing it and for the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) to approve it for emergency use if they choose to do so.

I found Ivermectin searching “Ivermectin for humans” at amazon.com.

There is also an apple-flavored paste, and a reader told me about a nurse that puts it in peanut butter.

I am just passing this information on for people to make their own decision.

Five, concerning persecution, much of the hatred that has been dumped on Trump over the last 4 years is now being directed toward those that voted for him.

Since Jan. 15, 2021, more than 22,000 people have signed a petition to have Franklin Graham fired from Samaritan’s Purse and the Billy Graham Evangelistic Assoc. for supporting Pres. Trump.

On Jan. 20, 2021, the Daily Beast published an article calling for a new “secret police” force to spy on Trump supporters because the FBI and NSA will not sufficiently punish these Americans.

Many Christians and conservatives are expressing concern that Biden’s support for the LGBTQ agenda (biological males in women’s bathrooms, etc.), and Pelosi’s rule that people in Congress are not allowed to say man, woman, etc., will lead to people being denounced as homophobes, etc. One reader e-mailed me to say there will be a tremendous effort to pervert the children that are not killed by abortion.

It has been reported that Katie Couric is calling for Trump supporters to be deprogrammed in re-education camps and for members of Congress that question the accuracy of the election to be punished. This could pit brother against brother just like Jesus said because the left wants to silence and shame those that disagree with them.

On Jan. 20, 2021, it was reported that former FBI Director James Comey said the Republican Party “needs to be burned down or changed.” He asked, “Who would want to be part of an organization that at its core is built on lies and racism and know-nothingism?” Comey is a proven liar, and there is evidence that he used false evidence to protect Hillary Clinton when she destroyed thousands of e-mails.

On Jan. 21, 2021, it was reported that a columnist for the Washington Post is calling for Fox News to be kicked off the air for “radicalizing people and setting them on the path of violence and sedition.”

I pray that Jesus will Rapture the Church off the earth before the persecution gets too bad, but judgment must begin at the house of God (I Pet. 4:17).

It falls on believers first, and it falls harder on unbelievers second (persecution of the Church signifies a greater persecution is coming on the lost).

Six, after constantly condemning Trump’s handling of Covid and claiming that he (Biden) will vaccinate a million people a day, concerning Covid, on Jan. 23, 2021, Biden said there is “nothing we can do about the trajectory.”

He added, “In the next few months, masks, not vaccinations, are the single best defense against Covid.”

Seven, concerning the Battle of Gog and Magog in the latter years and latter days, on Jan. 20 it was reported that a senior Israeli official said if Biden returns to the same terms of Obama’s nuclear deal with Iran, Israel will have nothing to discuss with him.

Biden is clearly interested in returning to the deal but said Iran must start complying first.

To summarize this article, concerning world government, I am not like Chicken Little, who claimed the sky is falling (world government indicates many good things such as the approaching rapture; reign of Jesus; peace, justice, and righteousness on earth; etc.), but I am saying get prepared because here it comes.

Some are saying a police state and persecution are coming.

U.S. Josh Hawley recently said, “You can go to church now, but you may not be allowed to go to the church of your choice in two years.”

As far as many of you are concerned, your pastor will never tell you about these things, so I suggest that a good place to get started is hischannel.com.

Finally, if you want to go to heaven, you must be born again (John 3:3). God loves you, and if you have not done so, sincerely admit that you are a sinner; believe that Jesus is the virgin-born, sinless Son of God who died for the sins of the world, was buried, and raised from the dead; ask Him to forgive your sins, cleanse you, come into your heart and be your Saviour; then tell someone that you have done this.

#January #31 #2021 #Biden #Globalist #Puppet #Fall #of #America #executive #order #destroy #USA #from #within #NWO #the #great #reset #underway #rapture #imminent #maranatha #JESUS

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finkmakescharacters · 3 years

Text

This is Viramaire, a calm and poised but somewhat snarky undertaker. She's very gentle by nature and makes sure every family knows their beloved are in good hands. She has a dry wit and a playful side to her, which can lead to her being kind of a troll. Her hobbies include tarot reading, sewing and board games.

"I assume you expected me to be clad in black, oozing melancholy and calling out to those at rest as ravens circle overhead? How embarrassing, I must have picked up the wrong dry cleaning. Isn't that just absurd~?"

WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

"Viramaire Ronove, at your service."

WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME?

"Weren't you just listening? Tsk tsk, keep up, love."

DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT?

"I should hope so; I chose the name. Didn't much care for the name my parents gave me, among other things, so I chose Viramaire. Elegant and enigmatic."

ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN?

"Wouldn't you like to know~?"

HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS?

"None that I am aware of. I can read tarot cards, I suppose. Know a bit of demonology, but nothing extraordinary."

STOP BEING A GARY STU.

"You children keep using that phrase...I don't think it means what you think it means."

WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR?

"It may be hard to see with my glasses, but my eyes are a silvery blue."

HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOR?

"A lovely light lavender."

HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS?

"Did you believe I spawned from nothingness? Well, actually, that's not too far from the truth..."

OH? WHAT ABOUT PETS?

"I have a stunning little boa~ His name is Asmodai. Would you like to see a picture? He's not quite full grown here, but this is a picture his previous owner sent me: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/59/51/63/5951636114c1c477e49b5a63b2737a8c.jpg "

THAT’S COOL I GUESS, NOW TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE.

"Can't say I care for sports much. Never was an athletic sort. I always managed to get my glasses broken in gym classes as a child."

DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE DOING?

"I love to sew. I actually design and sew all my own clothes. Much easier than going store to store looking for the right fit. Maybe I can whip up something for you sometime. Not without payment, of course~"

EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE?

"This is a very odd question. Are you referring to physical injury or emotional damage? I'm hardly a fighter but I'm sure I've torn out a few hearts in my day, though not all of them I regret~"

EVER….KILLED ANYONE BEFORE?

"I didn't mean literally ripping someone's heart out...The human ribcage is quite the durable beast."

WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?

"I'm a female of the elven kind, can't you tell?"

NAME YOUR WORST HABITS.

"Oftentimes I make dark or morbid jokes at inopportune times and it causes people to think I'm stark raving mad. Contrary to my sense of humor, I'm a relatively well adjusted, nonviolent woman. It just comes with the territory."

DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL?

"The groundskeeper at the cemetery. No, I'm not being facetious, she is really quite an interesting and complex person and I admire her thoughtfulness. She has some very interesting ideas on life, death, spirituality and religion. I believe her name is Gwendolyn Dagon."

GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL?

"Oh? Why do you ask~?"

DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL?

"I'm a bit old for lessons, but I'm flattered you felt the need to ask~"

DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY?

"Marriage, yes. Children, absolutely not. I did not consent to existence so why would I bring that upon another?"

DO YOU HAVE ANY FANBOYS/FANGIRLS?

"In my line of work? Unlikely."

WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF?

"Nothing I'd care to tell you, haha.~"

WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR?

"Typically I wear a blouse and trousers with a waistcoat and bow tie. I love intricate patterns on fabric."

DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE?

"I love, I have loved."

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WET YOURSELF?

"You first, love."

WELL, IT’S NOT OVER YET!

"Oh, joy!"

WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? (HIGH CLASS, MIDDLE CLASS, LOW CLASS)

"The most middling of middle class to ever be middle class."

HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE?

"Quality over quantity, love."

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE?

"If it's banana creme pie, I will eat it. If it's the 1999 film American Pie, I will politely decline."

FAVOURITE DRINK?

"Strawberry milk. It reminds me of childhood. The less terrifying parts at least."

WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE?

"There's this adorable little cafe not too far from my workplace. They have marvelous hot chocolate."

ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE?

"Can't say I am."

WHAT’S YOUR BRA CUP SIZE AND/OR HOW BIG IS YOUR WILLY?

"My, my, aren't we forward? You haven't even bought me dinner yet."

WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN?

"Don't really care for swimming, to be honest. I suppose a lake might be less crowded than a beach."

WHAT’S YOUR TYPE?

"Around 98.6 degress, preferably with skin and a pulse."

ANY FETISHES?

"You're the one who asked about the last time I wet myself. Got a little urine kink there?"

SEME OR UKE? TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE?

"Seme? Uke? Someone needs to read something other than Fruits Basket fanfiction~"

CAMPING OR INDOORS?

"Indoors. There are far less insects indoors.

ARE YOU WANTING THE QUIZ TO END?

"Over already? Hm, I was just starting to have fun with you."

#female oc #female original character #original character #oc #oc art #art #trans oc #trans woman oc

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carnistcervine · 4 years

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Parasitic Raava AU

F-it. Everyone is posting their awesomeness. I’m just gonna go out and post this. I’ve been sitting on this AU for months. Only having the courage to write a one-shot for it for Halloween. And that was for an off-shoot of this AU! Yeah, the main AU actually isn’t about Zuko and Azula at all. That was just from a random idea I got listening to a song. xD I am working on an outline for an expansion of that idea called “Cain and Abel” but it’s heavily in the rough stages for now. ewe

The main AU just follows off canon Avatar lineage, and Vaatu doesn’t get to have any fun at all. D’: Poor Vaatu, rest in rigatoni.

Okay so the inspiration for this idea originally came from when I was listening to the song Control by halsey, and I started thinking about the avatar state. It made me start thinking about a darker interpretation of the relationship between Avatar and Avatar Spirit. Then I was looking at a TvTropes page about animalistic abominations, and I started thinking about ATLA, cause some of the spirits look like animals and then the thing mentioned that Raava and Vaatu look like flatworms and oh god the mental image, it burns! ;n; I liked it better when I thought they were carpets... But anyway, after that horrifying revelation, my brain came up with this idea- What if Raava(and by extension Vaatu) was a parasite? Like she's still (mostly) good, but it's a pretty heavy case of good is not nice.

-If I had to describe this AU badly, it would be ATLA meets Venom.

-Big note: I have not seen Korra yet, so this is almost all based on what is established as canon in ATLA. Not that it really matters, since I'm not exactly trying to be accurate to canon anyway. :'D

-One note I should make right here is that for Wan's story at least, since it takes place in an era around the beginning of bending and benders, there is no four nations yet. There are four definitive elements, and four main divisions of people. Also because this is basically before/at the very beginning of the bending age, people aren't really benders, they have been gifted with the power to control the elements, but they're still learning to properly use said powers. So instead of benders, they are known as tide-pushers, earth-shifters, fire-makers, and cloud-sitters. The water tribes are broken up along many islands, swamps and the north and south poles. Instead of an Earth Kingdom, there's the Earth Continent which is made up of many cities and kingdoms and tribes; The Mountain Kingdom, the Sand Tribes, The Great City of the Steppe, etc... What will be known in the future as the Fire Nation is known as the Volcanic Archipelago, which contains many cities and tribes. The biggest and most prosperous city is Dragon City, this is where Wan is originally from. The people of the air are a majority nomadic people, but they do have a temple up in the clouds known as the Cloud Sanctuary.

-So Raava is still the spirit of light and peace, but I'm thinking that either she and Vaatu are two halves of a whole who cannot exist independently, or something happens to her and Vaatu that causes them to be unable to exist independently of a mortal form. But either way, Vaatu has been sealed away, and only Raava roams free.

-Another idea that I got is that both Raava and Vaatu were originally sealed away due to being parasitic spirits, but Raava's seal was broken and she was released into the world. This idea would play into why no one lives in the lost wilds, as it's said that a "dangerous being" lurks there.

-Wan is an ordinary fire-maker who lives out in the lost wilds after being exiled from his home. He lives a fairly quiet life, mostly trying to avoid the creepy spirits and monsters that lurk in the lands around him. His time is peaceful until he starts to come across the withered carcasses of animals.

-The corpses are all rail thin, ribs showing, eyes milky white and sunken in, bleeding from the nose and mouth. Other than that, there is no clear cause of death, no mortal injury, or even bite wounds to indicate infection, they all just look like they withered away and died. Like something had come and drained the vitality from them.

-Wan is gathering tinder one day when he comes across a strange sight. A polarbear dog wandering about. His first thought is wondering how one of those got this far north, then he noticed just how thin the creature was. The beast was facing away from him, it looked horribly thin and gave ghastly groans, like it was in horrible pain. As much as Wan was curious as to the cause of the mysterious deaths, at the same time he didn't want to suffer the same fate. He prepares to back away when the creature senses his presence. It stops and looks over it's shoulder, blazing white eyes gazing into his soul.

-Officially freaked out, Wan makes a run for it. He can hear the labored breathing of the creature bounding behind him. He briefly wonders if some kind of animal jiang shi is chasing him down. His thoughts are interrupted when the beast tackles him. Wan tries to push the beast off of him, but as soon as he hits the ground he feels a horrible stabbing pain. Not physical pain however, a strange spiritual pain, like something is drilling it's way into his very soul. Something seems to be worming it's way into his mind. The beast flips him onto his back and gazes deep into his eyes. Under the blank, burning gaze the bear-dog seems to be begging for Wan to help it. As he makes this revelation he starts to hear a faint feminine voice in his head.

-The voice attempts to soothe Wan. It tells him to relax, that it will all be over soon. The presence invading him had a strangely peaceful aura, like it was a graceful and soothing presence, but at the same time it was forcing it's way into his body. And he quickly figured that this thing was likely what was causing all those animals to die.

-Not wanting to suffer such a fate himself, Wan fights back against the spirit invading him. However, he realizes very quickly that this is a loosing battle. The deeper the spirit digs into him, the more Wan feels his thoughts loose clarity, like a warm blanket is enveloping his mind.

-Suddenly a harsh blast of air forces the bear-dog off of him. Someone rushes in to wrangle or fight the polarbear dog, despite the fact that he's still reeling from the feeling of something worming it's way deeper and deeper into his very being, Wan attempts to stand and warn the stranger of the situation. He weakly calls out to them to beware, but soon passes out from the pain.

-When Wan comes to, he's burning up with a fever. His spirit feels heavy and there's a soft feminine voice in his head cooing soothing things at him. Trying to lull him into a sense of security and comfort so that she or it can take over. Or so he assumes at least. Outside of his head, he can hear two people talking about him.

-When Ami and Onu went out to look for Ami's beloved polarbear dog, Taki, they did not expect to find the ursine-canine in such a state, and they expected to find a sickly fire-maker even less.

-Seeing Taki assaulting someone, Onu took immediate action and sent a blast of wind to knock the beast off of the man. Onu rushed in an attempt to calm Taki, he paused when he saw just how bad Taki looked. The polarbear-dog was starved thin, eyes milky-white and sunken in, and bleeding heavily from the mouth and nose despite no apparent injuries. He could only utter her name softly as the bear-dog fell to the ground, having reached the end of her strength.

-With Onu going after Taki, Ami rushed over the felled man's side. He attempted to sit up, moaning something about danger before immediately collapsing back onto the ground. He's very pale and burning up with fever. Her worries are only compounded when she cannot get the man to open his eyes or respond in any coherent manor.

-Of course Ami's day was only about to get much worse. She glaces over at Onu and sees the state Taki is in. Ami's heart shatters into thousands of pieces seeing her beloved companion in such a state.

-Using the moisture of her tears, Ami examine Taki's chi paths. Unfortunately Taki's chi had been drained, and her chi paths had been withered and burned through. There was no saving her. Despite this, Ami insists on trying to save Taki. Onu helps her drag both Taki and the strange man back to their base camp.

-Taki passes away soon before the man starts to regain consciousness. As heartbroken as Ami is, she focuses her energies on reading the chi of the mysterious man. She isn't sure what's causing the fever, as he lacks any signs of infection. She realizes that he's a fire-maker, and his inner fire is blazing out of control which is causing the fever. But why?

-The man, Wan, as Ami soon learns, weakly cries out about something draining the life out of the living, and how it's infested him. Ami assumes that it's just the fever talking, as by all means he should be fine. Aside from the fever, there's nothing wrong with Wan.

-Neither Ami, nor Onu know why Wan is ill, nor can they explain the mysterious death of not only Taki, but the other mysterious corpses they found in the Lost Wilds. However, they figure it best to take him away from this place. They opt to take him to the Southern Island Tribe to see a proper healer.

-They do eventually make it to the Southern Island Tribe and see a healer. The healer, a grizzled elder, tells Ami and Onu that Wan's fever is not natural, it is a spirit fever caused by the battle between his own spirit and one invading his being. Wan is deeply concerned, remembering the bodies he found back in the Lost Wilds, but the elder healer tells him that she can find no evidence of his chi being stolen or damaged.

-Wan wishes to purge Raava from his being, so Onu takes the group to see the elder monks at the Cloud Sanctuary.

-On the way there, the trio is attacked by a group of dangerous rogues. Seeing his new friends in danger, and being too weak to do anything about it, Wan reluctantly gives Raava control. Using Wan's body, Raava wipes the floor with the goons. Wan collapses afterwords because channeling that much energy is exhausting. It's at this point that Ami finally believes that Wan is actually possessed and not just loopy from fever. Both Onu and Ami are very impressed by the show of strength however.

-Continuing on the journey to the Cloud Sanctuary, the trio comes across a village that has been ransacked by pirates and subsequently torn apart by seemingly malevolent spirits. Ami and Onu want to move on, but Wan insists that they help the people. He tries to help, but he doesn't really know what to do. Reluctantly, he asks Raava to help him.

Okay so some more generalized notes about the AU~ -At first Wan is completely opposed to sharing his body with Raava. However, after some time he starts to work with her and learns to live with her.

-Not that Raava has any intention of giving up her host.

-After Raava infests him, Wan starts to manipulate all of the elements. At first it's just while Raava is in control, but slowly he starts to use other elements without Raava's influence. Also, he does notice a connection to all four elements right away, he just isn't sure what to think of it until it manifests into manipulation of all four elements.

-At first Raava is only motivated by the need to sustain herself. Being one of the greater spirits, she doesn't concern herself with mortal matters. However, the more time she spends with Wan, the more she learns to see the forest for the trees and empathize with the struggles of mortal beings.

-Dragon City is ruled by a gang of ruthless thugs who hoard wealth, food, resources, and rule the populace with an iron fist. The leader of this gang is the Dragon King, Ryuusei. Sure enough, Wan and Raava eventually take this asshole out.

-There needs to be a pirates arc where someone is kidnapped and Wan has to work with Raava to save them. If I don't write this, then what's the fucking point?

-Ami is a caring, but skeptical tide-pusher, and Onu is basically the stoner friend cloud-sitter.

-Raava calls Wan her Avatar, and eventually the name sticks.

-As time goes on, Wan and Raava's spirits become fully fused together. This makes Wan part spirit, and Raava part human. Of course, Wan is mortal and eventually dies a natural death, but because Raava is eternal, she is reborn into another body and such starts the avatar cycle.

-By the time that Wan passes away, the whole Raava is a parasitic spirit and the Avatar is actually possessed fades from the public consciousness and even the Avatars eventually forget that Raava is actually a parasite. Hell they soon forget her name and identity entirely, only knowing her as the "Avatar Spirit".

-In this AU, Raava is an incomplete being. As such she cannot sustain herself, she must attach to a mortal being to live among the mortal realm. And being half of the world's spirit, if she were to leave the mortal realm, the world would fall into chaos and eventually die. So she initially tries to sustain herself by fusing with plants and animals. Neither work, as her spirit is too strong for them, which causes their own spirits to burn up and their bodies to wither away. Wan is the first human and compatible being Raava attempts to fuse with. His human spirit is strong enough to withstand Raava's own spirit without being destroyed.

-As for Raava's characterization, I'd probably describe her as being a combo of good is not nice and well-intentioned extremist. Being a spirit of light and peace, she radiates a peaceful aura that she uses to soothe her host to make them reject her less. Or before she started possessing people, she'd use it so that her potential victims would be lulled into a false sense of security so she can latch onto them. She acts nice, again using her peaceful aura and gentle voice to soothe her victims. I'd hesitate to actually call her nice because she does casually ignore the independence and self-determination of her host. Well-intentioned or not, she is a parasite after all. And no, she doesn't feel bad about it. Bigger picture- Raava fades, the world dies. Raava's host dies, nothing particularly bad happens.

-Raava can be pretty vicious too tho. If kind words and manipulation, err I mean, gentle persuasion don't work, she's gets to be mean as hell. :D Even to the point of forcibly taking control and asking her host if they really think they're in control.

-Vaatu? He's just a straight up dick. Okay, fine, he pretends to be on your side while poisoning your mind and turning you against everyone that cares about you. Why? He thinks it's funny. And yeah, he's pretty much just straight up evil. He isn't above driving his host into madness and using them as a means to cause as much mayhem as possible. But he does so subtly, and works as insidiously as possible. I also kind of picture him as being the type that messes with your head by making you re-examine the very definitions of good and evil.

-Or maybe he does have some good in him. But you'd have better luck getting a polarbear-dog to speak perfect common tongue than getting any good out of Vaatu.

#ATLA #Avatar #ATLA AU #Avatar AU #ParasiticRaavaAU #This AU is super evil and I have so many different ideas for stories and offshoots.#Like just.#Something about Raava being mean to people(especially Zuko) tickles my id.

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april-ruffin-world · 4 years

Text

BLACK MOSES SONG

“If it is true that black people are becoming increasingly well adjusted to the American way of life, then we may lose our capacity to tell the truth about our black life in America.” - Cornel West (Hope on a Tightrope p 202) The purpose of this thesis is to shed light on the historical and current, ever-increasing influence of African American/Black music on American culture and why it is crucially important to remember the past in order to thrive in the future. Secondly, I aim to demonstrate how powerful black music is and how it has been used as a catalyst for freedom. I will use as my dialogue partner, Dr. Cornel West, one of America’s most gifted theologians, educator, activist and philosopher. Dr. West, Class of 1943 University Professor at Princeton University, in 2012, returned to Union Theological Seminary in New York City where he first began his teaching career. He has written over twenty books such as Hope on A Tightrope (2008), The Cornel West Reader (1999), The Future of the Race (with Henry Louis Gates, Jr., 1996), and Race Matters (1993), where I will be drawing from for conversation. I witnessed for myself earlier this year on April 30th, 2015 at Biola University, Dr. West in dialouge with Robert George and Pastor Rick Warren, where Dr. West made reference to saxophonist, John Coltrane, whose music was lightly playing as the attendees waited for the forum to begin. In his opening comments, Dr. West expressed that he hoped Coltrane wasn’t just music playing in the background because, “John Coltrane is a part and a voice and figure in one of the greatest traditions in the modern world; which is a musical tradition that in the face of catastrophe mustered the courage to bear witness to compassion… in the face of being terrorized for four hundred years decides not to terrorize others, but fight for freedom for everybody…it’s a human tradition.” Because of the age of consumerism we live in today, “Obsession of money making and profit taking…we have less gas in our spiritual tanks, a spiritual malnutrition, an indifference to the suffering of others…a calousness,” West continued. He then quoted Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, “An indifference to evil is more insidious than evil itself.” America is in a state of emergency; many of its citizens are living and operating from a state of fear. We’re subconsciously encouraged when we watch the nightly news or peruse social media sites to fear. We are to fear terrorism, fear cancer, fear consumption of any foods that are not glucose, lactose or sugar free, and little black boys and girls are taught to fear for their lives lest they end up like Sandra Bland, Trayvon Martin, Mike Brown, Eric Garner, Freddie Gray, Oscar Grant, Jordan Davis, Tamir Rice and countless others victims who suffered the penalty of death simply because of the color of their skin. Dr. West not only used John Coltrane as example, but referred to Frederick Douglas, Sojourner Truth, Curtis Mayfield, Aretha Franklin, Erykah Badu, Toni Morrison, and James Baldwin to stress his point that Black musicians, writers and artists use creative expression as an outlet to overcome and to stay above negative forces that would aim to steal their creative ideas or kill and destroy (literally) their lives. No doubt, West has perused the pages of works such as the Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglas, an American Slave where Douglas writes: “The slaves selected to go to the Great House Farm, for the monthly allowance for themselves and their fellow-slaves, were peculiarly enthusiastic. While on their way, they would make the dense old woods, for miles around, reverberate with their wild songs, revealing at once the highest joy and the deepest sadness. They would compose and sing as they went along, consulting neither time nor tune. The thought that came up, came out—if not in the word, in the sound;—and as frequently in the one as in the other. They would sometimes sing the most pathetic sentiment in the most rapturous tone, and the most rapturous sentiment in the most pathetic tone. Into all of their songs they would manage to weave something of the Great Houses Farm. Especially would they do this, when leaving home. They would then sing most exultingly the following words:— I am going away to the Great House Farm! O, yea! O, yea! O! This they would sing, as a chorus, to words which to many would seem unmeaning jargon, but which, nevertheless, were full of meaning to themselves. I have sometimes thought that the mere hearing of those songs would do more to impress some minds with the horrible character of slavery, than the reading of whole volumes of philosophy on the subject could do. I did not, when a slave, understand the deep meaning of those rude and apparently incoherent songs. I was myself within the circle; so that I neither saw nor heard as those without might see and hear. They told a tale of woe which was then altogether beyond my feeble comprehension; they were tones loud, long, and deep; they breathed the prayer and complaint of souls boiling over with the bitterest anguish. Every tone was a testimony against slavery, and a prayer to God for deliverance from chains. The hearing of those wild notes always depressed my spirit, and filled me with ineffable sadness. I have frequently found myself in tears while hearing them. The mere recurrence to those songs, even now, afflicts me; and while I am writing these lines, an expression of feeling has already found its way down my cheek. To those songs I trace my first glimmering conception of the dehumanizing character of slavery. I can never get rid of that conception. Those songs still follow me, to deepen my hatred of slavery, and quicken my sympathies for my brethren in bonds. If any one wishes to be impressed with the soul-killing effects of slavery, let him go to Colonel Lloyd’s plantation, and, on allowance-day, place himself in the deep pine woods, and there let him, in silence, analyze the sounds that shall pass through the chambers of his soul,—and if he is not thus impressed, it will only be because ‘there is no flesh in his obdurate heart.’” (p 25-26) These songs composed by slaves would come to be known as negro spirituals. Many of these spirituals had a code message aimed to guide slaves, via the Underground Railroad, to freedom or to the “Jordan”, which was on the Northern side of the Ohio River. Here is one example of this hidden message, weaved within the words of a song: Deep River, my home is over Jordan; Deep River, my home is over Jordan. O don’t you want to go to that Gospel Feast That Promised Land where all is Peace? Deep River, I want to cross over into camp ground. These spirituals were always inspired by the “good news” message from the Bible; by Christ and his message that “you can be saved.” Negro spirituals would later influence chain gang songs, sung by “prisoners” or victims of the unscrupulous sharecropper system following the abolishment of slavery in 1865. Inmates would sing in the call and response format; the leader began a line and the other workers followed, often using their axes to keep rhythm and to keep up with the rigorous demands of the day. In 1927, the Mississippi River broke levees in almost 150 places and caused one of the greatest floods in American history. Many blacks were forced, by gunpoint, to fill sandbags to set in place to resist the flowing waters. When the flood overpowered their attempts, these blacks were left to fend for themselves and many fled, migrating north. This great flood is responsible for the largest migration of blacks in U.S. history. In fact, the actual terms “Chicago Blues” and “Muddy Waters” stem from this Mississippi flood of ’27. The blues musician known as Muddy Waters was born and raised on a plantation in Mississippi, but moved to Chicago in 1943 in hopes to become a professional musician. In Hope on a Tightrope, “Blues,” first on the list of Westian core concepts, is defined as, “The elegant coping with catastrophe that yields a grace and dignity so that the spirit of resistance is never completely snuffed out.” (p 221) It is intriguing how a rhythm birthed from pain, and the pursuit to overcome that pain, would mother genres of music we refer to today such as rhythm and blues, rock ’n’ roll, folk, country and jazz. Muddy Waters, himself, influenced musicians such as Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan, Paul Rodgers, and even Jimi Hendrix. Muddy Waters’ 1950 release of the single “Catfish Blues” or “Rollin’ Stone” is where the famous London group got their name from and the magazine, too. Even the Beatles referenced Muddy Waters in their song “Come Together.” More recently, the rock group AC/DC borrowed from Muddy Waters’ lyrics and Angus Young, one of the group members, has often cited Waters as one of his greatest influences. Me: Dr. West, Besides Muddy Waters, can you name another example of a black musician who you would consider a trailblazer in this plight of using self expression to gain freedom from enervated mental and physical circumstance in America? West: Louis Armstrong, who grew up in the red-light district of Storyville among prostitutes and brothels, was able to escape the social misery and express his unbelievable genius and imagination to keep alive the greatest musical tradition of the modern world. The black musical tradition gave us blues and jazz idioms that the rest of the world now understands. (Hope p 179) Me: Dr. West, I was born and raised in New York City and have often pondered as I passed by the Cotton Club or The Apollo theater in Harlem, what it must have been like for these early black musicians who were still combating the remnants of slavery and Jim Crow laws, but simultaneously, had this new outlet and opportunity because of their musical talent. I know, from even watching the film, that blacks weren’t allowed entrance into the Cotton Club as patrons, but were only allowed access as performers. Duke Ellington and his orchestra became renown because of his appearances at the Cotton Club, but the members of his orchestra would, most likely, never be able to walk in through the front door. Blacks, as we’ve discussed, like Muddy Waters’ inspired not only other musicians, but entire musical genres and in the end, it seems he got the shorter end of the stick as far as making a profit and being in full control of his artistry. Why is this? West: Blues and jazz lost much of their black audience in the 50s and 60s when they abandoned black public spaces, such as black dances, clubs, and street corners. Without access to the participatory rituals in public spaces of black everyday life, blues and jazz became marginal to ordinary working black people in urban centers. In their stead, rhythm and blues, soul music, and now hip-hop seized the imagination and pocketbook of young black America. This fundamental shift in the musical tastes of black America resulted from two basic features of the larger American culture industry: the profit-driven need to increase the production pace and number of records, reinforcing fashion, fad, and novelty, and the explosive growth of black talent spilling out of churches and clubs in search of upward social mobility. The lessening of racist barriers in the industry and wider acceptance of black music by white consumers created new opportunities. Since neither blues nor jazz could satisfy or saturate this market, they fell by the cultural wayside or, at least, were pushed to the margins. (Hope p 122-123) Me: That explains it. So it’s all about capitalism and profit. I always thought of blues and jazz as a distinctive genre and sound influenced, primarily, by the time period that those musicians lived. I have always gotten chills while listening to Billie Holiday’s unique voice, but only recently came to understand the deep meaning behind the tone and lyrics of say, Strange Fruit. And growing up, listening to my mother play Kenny G when he first became popular in the 1980s or for example, when I was invited to see Kurt Elling in concert at Carnegie Hall, I just assumed that jazz had become “white music.” West: One of the reasons jazz is so appealing to large numbers of white Americans is precisely because they feel that in this black musical tradition, not just black musicians, but black humanity is being asserted by artists who do not look at themselves in relation to whites or engage in self-pity or white put-down. This type of active, as opposed to reactive, expression is very rare in any aspect of African American culture. (Hope p 119). West: For me, the deepest existential source of coming to terms with white racism is music. From the very beginning, I always conceived of myself as an aspiring bluesman in a world of ideas and a jazzman in the life of the mind. What is distinctive about using blues and jazz as a source of intellectual inspiration is the ability to be flexible, fluid, improvisational, and multi-dimensional—finding one’s own voice, but using that voice in a variety of different ways. (Hope p 114) The human voice itself is the greatest instrument. Black folks’ tradition begins with the voice. (Hope p 113). It was music that sustained Africans on slave ships making their way from Africa to the New World. We often didn’t speak a common language that allowed us to communicate with each other in a deep way. We had to constitute some form of comradery and community, and music did that. It preserved our sanity, as well as our dignity. Owing to white supremacist sanctions, enslaved Africans were not allowed to read or write. As a nonliterate people, we learned to manifest our genius through what no one could take away—our voices and our music. (Hope p 110). When you look at this tradition from the spirituals on through Louis Armstrong, Sarah Vaughan, Curtis Mayfield, Luther Vandross, and Aretha Franklin on up to Prince and Gerald Levert, music sustained our humanity, dignity, and integrity. Me: Ah, yes! It seems that during the 1960s when black leaders emerged such as Dr. Martin King Jr. and Malcolm X, there were also black musicians that answered the call to use their voices as an impetus for change. James Brown released “Say it loud, I’m black and I’m proud,” to inspire and uplift the people, while Nina Simone released “Mississippi Goddamn,” but was blacklisted because of it; her music not allowed airplay over the radio. In The Future of the Race, published in 1996, you wrote prophetically: “The twenty-first century will almost certainly not be a time in which American exceptionalism will flower in the world or American optimism will flourish among people of African descent. If there are any historical parallels between black Americans at the end of the twentieth century and other peoples in earlier times, two candidates loom large: Tolstoy’s Russia and Kafka’s Prague—soul starved Russians a generation after the emancipation of the serfs in 1861 and anxiety-ridden Central European Jews a generation before the European Holocaust in the 1940s.” (p 75) If I am understanding correctly, Dr. West, black music has been created and ushered out into the world almost as a push-back; a resistance to hopeless situations and music has served as a remedy or cure. The black life and tradition in America is not separate from black music and the arts, it is one in the same. And therefore, the fight for justice; for mental, physical and financial freedom which is only experienced by a small percentage of blacks in America, is a very real and urgent task. Earlier black musicians were aware of this plight because the chains of slavery (literal and proverbial) were still evident. Today, we are in greater danger because those chains are invisible and have been set in permanent institutions such as urban schools and prisons. Nearly fifty years ago, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. led marches and other peaceful demonstrations to bring attention to racism, segregation, and discrimination which greatly influenced the signing of both the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. As it can be seen, just because a law is passed, that doesn’t mean that people’s beliefs and behaviors change. In the early 1950’s, racial segregation was customary in America. Basic math would then imply that members of the KKK are still living, in fact, one can readily log onto the internet and find a current KKK website. The media and most curriculums taught in educational institutions depict the Civil Rights movement as a thing of the past, something that happened then, and everyone should just move on and never bring it up, because “Today, we live in a fair and equal society.” Contrary to these false aphorisms, racism is prevalent in 2015 America. Even after repeated injuries, incarcerations and murders of blacks, both male and female, the racism conflict advances, leaving behind blood stained sidewalks and unbottled tears. Historical advances in American music and the arts woud prove that it’s okay to imitate blacks, which is seen as early as “black face” stage and film productions where white actors would paint themselves blacks to make fun of and entertain the audience, to the Beach Boys to the modern day where so called “pop” artists imitate and appropiate hip-hop culture. It would seem that the fight for freedom is futile and a far cry from reality. West: As freedom fighters, we’ve got to become much like the jazz women and jazz men. Fluid and flexible and protean—open to a variety of different sources and perspectives. (Hope p 187). [Again] We come from a particular tradition of struggle. Our people have been on intimate terms with the constant threat of social death. No legal status, no social standing, no public value—you were only a commodity to be bought and sold. If you don’t come to terms with death in that context, there’s no way you can live psychically and culturally because the rights and priveleges that your fellow human beings of European descent had access to were stripped from you. (Hope p 184) Freedom fighters struggle for justice, not revenge. We love in the face of bigotry. We keep track of the indescribable scars and bruises. Yet we refuse to be victims! We instead mount constant heroic resistance against injustice. (Hope p 206) Those who have never despaired have neither lived nor loved. Hope is inseparable from despair. Those of us who truly hope make despair a constant companion whom we outwrestle every day owing to our commitment to justice, love and hope. It is impossible to look honestly at our catastrophic conditions and not have some despair—it is a healthy sign of how deeply we care. It is also a mark of maturity—a rejection of cheap American optimism. (Hope p 217) Black people’s deep memory of history is a legacy of catastrophe. It’s the slave ship and the body swinging from the tree. It’s the disgraceful school systems and being taught to hate ourselves. America’s concept of history is that of a chosen people, a city on a hill where the sun is always shining. Therefore, black people’s conception of memory is that of trauma, whereas the mainstream conception of memory is this progress of an every generation toward a more perfect Union. If your conception of history is one of catastrophe and your conception of memory is one of trauma, the only countermovement against catastrophe and trauma is never forgetting the catastrophic and yet still attempting to triumph. (Hope p 188) Me: The Hebrew verb zakhor ("remember") appears in the Torah about one hundred and sixty-nine times, Moses while leading the Israelites out of Egypt towards the Promised Land, would often encourage them to remember. In Deuteronomy Chapter 8, Moses and Miriam’s song Me: J. Wendell Mapson, Jr., author of The Ministry of Music in the Black Church writes: “The task, then, is to affirm the good in black theology and to offer correctives so that black theology may continue to address the needs of black people in light of their relationship to God and culture. Historically…, music in the black church has reflected the theology of the pilgrimage of black people. Set within the context of the black church, the religious music of black people has helped to articulate the very soul and substance of the black experience, most especially for those who belong to the family of God. In many instances, music has not only been shaped by theology but has also shaped theology. Not only may one speak of a theology of music, but one might also speak of the music of theology. There is no doubt that in the black church music is the lifeblood. Among blacks, music is not always compartmentalized into categories such as sacred and secular. In fact, the black church itself does not always see itself in light of such labels. Among Afro-Americans, just as in African cuture, religion permeates the whole of life, and so does music.” (p 16) Similarly, in The Cross and The Lynching Tree, author, James Cone offers a corrective and brilliantly explicates how by connecting the cross to the lynching tree, not only blacks in America, but all Americans may benefit: “Despite the obvious similarities between Jesus’ death on the cross and the death of thousands of black men and women strung up to die on a lamppost or tree, relatively few people, apart from the black poets, novelists, and other reality-seeing artists, have explored the symbolic connections. Yet, I believe this is the challenge we must face. What is at stake is the credibility and the promise of the Christian gospel and the hope that we may heal the wounds of racial violence that continue to divide our churches and our society…Until we can see the cross and the lynching tree together, until we can identify Christ with a ‘recrucified’ black body hanging from a lynching tree, there can be no genuine understanding of Christian identity in America, and no deliverance from the brutal legacy of slavery and white supremacy. (xiii-xiv, xv) Later, in this sermonic book, Cone writes: We are bound together in America by faith and tragedy. West: The major black cultural response to the temptation of despair has been the black Christian tradition—a tradition dominated by music in song, prayer, and sermon. (The Future of the Race p 101) You can’t talk about the crucifixion without talking about nihilism and spiritual abandonment. The feeling that you have no connection whatsoever to any of the forces for good in the universe underscores your relatively helpless situation (referring to Matt 27:46 when Jesus cried out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?). If Jesus had American advisors, they would have said, Negotiate with Pontius Pilate, sacrifice your sense of who you are, call your mission into question, and sneak away at night under the protective cover of the Roman Empire to live free. Jesus would have responded, No, there’s a cross for me. In fact, if you look closely enough in your life, there’s a cross for you, too. (Hope p 198) West: The American Empire is still governed by its desire to shape the world for American interests. It is still determined to have its way and do whatever it takes to preserve the resources necessary to sustain the “American way of life…” The new American Dream is to never run out of things to buy and sell, and people to buy and sell. What must happen for us to stay awake permanently and commit to critically engaging the public interest or expanding the common good? (Hope 181) West: Subversive joy is the ability to transform tears into laughter, a laughter that allows one to acknowledge just how difficult the journey is, and to delight in one’s own sense of humanity and folly and humor in the midst of this very serious struggle. This is true freedom of spirit. We can think and feel, laugh and weep, and with the belief and capacity of everyday people, we can fight. Fight with a smile on our faces and tears in our eyes. We can see the deprivation, yet hold up a bloodstained banner with a sense of hope based on genuine discernment and connection. We can point out hypocrisy and keep alive some sense of possibility for both ourselves and our children, thus fulfilling our sacred duty. (Hope p 192) West: Hip-hop, the most powerful cultural force on the globe right now, was one of the ways in which the black underclass responded to being forgotten and overlooked, with its pain downplayed and ignored. The response to invisibility was to create a whole cultural genre that represented young, black, and underclass folk. The culture and entertainment industry had to take notice by 1985. Now hip-hop is the most lucrative cultural area of the entertainment industry. It’s another tribute to the tremendous cultural imagination and genius of black folk. (Hope p 178) The vitality and vigor of Afro-American popular music depends not only on the talents of Afro-American musicians, but also on the moral visions, social analyses and political strategies that highlight personal dignity, provide political promise and give existential hope to the underclass and poor working class in Afro-America. (The Cornel West Reader p 484) is that it’s a human condition…a love caravan. West: To be human you must bearwitness to justice. Justice is what love looks like in public—to be human is to love and be loved. Me in closing: I have to believe that there is hope for Black men and women in this nation and throughout the world. Inherently, all human beings know that greatness is not achieved through material gain and worldly acquisitions, but true greatness is seen by observing the character of a man. While listening to a eulogy, we never hear the orator bloviate about how many cars the deceased one drove or how many houses he had, never! Whether the deceased was a criminal or clergyman, we hear of how good the person was, how thoughtful and generous. We sit and listen to people go on about how much they loved the person or how that person made them laugh. We know deep in our souls what really matters while we’re here on this Earth. God’s beauty, truth, love and freedom is still attractive in a world full of deceit, hate and restriction. We are all longing for more. Everyone wants to know their purpose in life and we often do not feel satisfied until it has been identified. When it is identified, but not actively pursued, one lives or exists, rather, in a dulled, gray state—full of regret and disappointment that slowly leads to an anger filled heart of stone. Even the apathetic ones feel, too. Whether acknowledged or not, these emotionless souls are feeling something, deeply. Life is completely mundane, boring and hopeless without a mission. The beauty in the knowledge of Yeshua is that we all have been given a mission…we were commanded to love God and to love our neighbor as ourselves. That’s what it all boils down to…love! It is impossible to know Love, to know what love is, without knowing God. And how can we say that we love God, whom we have never seen, but hate others who we see everyday (1 John 4:20)? I want to enhance this notion of God’s beauty and take it to the streets of the marginalized, in hopes to impart the knowledge that their lives, too, have a meaning and purpose. To those who have given up on God and themselves, who will never step foot into a church, they too must know that they are wanted by God. Too long have I witnessed churches that sit in communities filled with indigent people full of despair, but the congregants sit securely in that church building, worshipping and reaching out to the Lord, yet do not reach out to the people in need that are in the community. We are to worship the Lord in Spirit and in truth; and truth is, there is so much work to be done outside of those four walls of the church building. God’s church is not the physical edifice, but His people. We must do the will of our Father, lest He say, “I knew you not,” when we go to enter the kingdom of Heaven (Matt 7:21-23). With the power of the Holy Spirit, we are to be witnesses of Yeshua to everyone to the ends of this earth (Acts 1:8). The end is delayed because of the mission. We often pray, “Come quickly,” but we must first work before He comes. We all have been given spiritual gifts in order to serve others. We serve, never because of “what’s in it for me,” but to exalt Christ. All of our giftings should be conformed and exercised to the dictates of love. The body of Christ will be edified as we serve together, some teaching, some preaching, some praying, some singing. With the songs given to me by the Holy Spirit, I wish to communicate that: “Nothing is lost, everything to gain, forget the past, forget the pain, you can climb higher, you can achieve, if only you trust and believe and never look back!” Feelings of emptiness and hopelessness can lead one to suicide or a life lived without purpose. But the knowledge of new life, believing that we ought not remember the former things, because God is about to do something new (Isaiah 43:18-19), will save lives! People must see the beauty in God’s light and how it shines in darkness, transforming from the inside out. Aristotle believed that music is the most representative of all the arts and I agree. Music is powerful! A melody could be dimly playing in the background and the listener, incognizant at times, mechanically taps along. The Bronx nursing home, Beth Abraham's experiment with catatonic patients was revolutionary. Ask any college student what gets him or her through when they have to pull an all-nighter and the answer is usually, music. Listening to their favorite soundtrack or artists helps the time pass, without feeling the burden of the task at hand. Hearing a particular song can trigger memories from our past, taking us to places long forgotten about and treasured. Music can be used to awaken a nation, as seen in the 1960s with the release of A Change is Gonna Come, by Sam Cooke, which became an anthem for the Civil Rights Movement. When John Legend and Common stood to deliver their speech for winning “Best Original Song” for Glory from the Oscar-nominated film Selma, Legend conveyed that, “There are more black men under correctional control than there were under slavery in 1850.” Something is terribly wrong with that picture. In the words of Frederick Douglass, “Where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is an organized conspiracy to oppress, rob and degrade them, neither persons nor property will be safe.” SEE MORE (YOUTUBE: thekingherself)

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xovitae · 5 years

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Shift 2019

3pm

We set up camp in the center with a perfect view of the stage, dance floor, fire pit and everything else!

The first stranger at the event we interacted with was a tall, dark skinned, older gentleman who approached us holding a bowl of water; in the bottom were several rocks and shells. Zatudün and I both picked one out and He let us keep them.

Several minutes pass when the same gentleman find us at our booth; He introduced himself as Pops. We discussed the items we had for sale, the art we were presenting, witchcraft, spirituality and Psychedelics. He's a pretty chill dude, and he actually spent most of the of the evening hanging with us.

At some point early on, Zatudün and I realized that Pops is a physical reincarnation of Lucifer. So many little things confirmed this throughout the night.

At 730 we sought out Monty and got our Molly (4 for Zatudün, 3 for me and 2 for Felina.

By 8pm my Godspouse and wife are already high, the Molly settling well within them.

I'm coming up on the Molly too; my chest is flat against the ground vibrating with the rumble of the bass. I can feel the earth, the music and all the souls around me.

By 9 pm I'm on a good roll so I drop my Lsd (3 drops).

At 930 Monty goes on stage; his set is poppin'! I'm on the dancefloor, laying on Kel's hammock, swinging as the bass rumbles and the music moves me. I've ascended.

Soon, the rest of My tribe arrives. Boo immediately sought out Molly while Mom took half a tab of Lsd.

By 10 I'm soaring! So high I can eat the stars.

After that, time became irrelevant.

At one point I realize I need to give Monty a hug, so I started searching. I can't find him, so I recruit about a dozen strangers who are all looking for him for me. Mom found him and I gave him a big long hug. I met so many wonderful people and made great connections.

I had an amazing tender moment with Mom on the trampoline. Then I told her about the gifts from Pops that he let us pick out; She was bummed that she missed out. (She'd had to drive Boo back to town to fix a flat when we first all arrived at 3pm) So I kindly told Pops that she missed out cause of my fuckhead brother and would love a shell or rock like he gave us. He walked us to his jeep and picked the prettiest shell for her which she wore from her neck the rest of the evening.

Pops bought an orange and black bracelet from Zatudün. (Those are His favorite colors)

At some point, Felina decides she wants to candy flip and buys Lsd. At the same time, Pops offers me and Mom a blotter. An authentic blotter developed in a lab by his son. Fuck yes! When that shit hit…. Man! I've done my fair share of Lsd, but never have I been so high. Not only that, but my high completely shifted: Colors were more vibrant, the visuals were different, everything about this high was so unique compared to any other lsd trip I've had before. Later, Zatudün decided to take a blotter from Pops too. At some point, Pops disappeared for a while, but I knew we'd see him again.

I gave so many hugs and told so many people I love them, meaning it with my whole soul and being. I got to do some tarot for people and talk about my path & craft. Someone even listened to me talk about Lucifer and how He is a big symbol in my life. I didn't have a single negative encounter.

From my camp, right over the dance floor canopy, light begins to shine behind the mountains in the distance, the sky turns pink and purple: it's the most beautiful sunrise of my life, and I was witness to the whole thing.

The music continued to move me and we only met more people as the morning went on. I passed out lavender bundles that I picked last week and Zatudün passed out bracelets he made. Pops had told me he doesn't have any social media or anything, so I wrote my phone number on a card and left it on His windshield. Walking back to the dancefloor afterwards I met eyes with Don, a good buddy I'd seen a dozen times during the night; the sun was shining right above his head. "Don!" I yell. "Come give me a hug for the sake of this glorious morning!" And he did; he gave me a great big glorious hug.

By 9am Mom was hot so her and Boo took off to go back home.

At this point I've hugged Monty at least 100 times and told Him how important to me and my life he is. We had a really touching moment together and he even bought one of Zatudün's paintings. I had literally the best night of my life- what I believe to be the best night I've had in any previous life before this one. I got to experience so much of so many things and make dozens of spiritual connections.

When Pops woke up shortly after 9, He found his way back to us on the dancefloor; we were sitting on the couch talking and listening to each other for a while. Pops was telling stories that answered questions I've been struggling with within myself:

He told us about the day His indigo child was born and how he got to meet her while high on Lsd. He said that when he held her and looked into her eyes, she spoke to him. She told him her purpose and what she was there for. I could feel the emotion and everything He felt; it was so beautiful and incredible that I decided I'm going to have a baby of my own one day… (I'm trans and I've been struggling with this decision for years)

He also talked about life across the universe and the creation of worlds and life on other planets. (Like what I'm working on with Inkora.)

By 10am we were packed up and we headed home.

I felt the Shift and all the love too.

I learned and experienced so many things:

Celebrate yourself and your tribe.

"If you feel like you're going to get burned, you just need to move differently." - A fire dancer

Indulge, but set boundaries and limitations.

Be good to yourself and love each other.

-Xo

#magick #witchcraft #luciferian #mine #spirituality #rave #Shift #lsd #mdma #psychedlics #Lucifer #ascencion #godhood #mithriltome

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iamnotbrianmay · 5 years

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(English is not my native language so umm sorry for any occurring mistakes? > <)

*shuffles awkwardly* Hi dear I come bearing writing prompts? *nervous laughter* I swear initially they were meant to be short descriptions BUT EVERYTHING GOT TOTALLY OUT OF HAND BY THE END. MY GOD THEY’RE SO DAMN LONG NOW. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DON’T WANT TO (you could take all of them, some of them, one of them or NONE OF THEM ok? Totally fine!) so please don’t feel pressured? :) And you’re welcome to put your own spin on the prompts, pass them onto other writers if they’re interested or to collab with someone else! :D

But seriously though you can also just treat them as littles “stories” from me (aka. your humble little anon fan) to you, intended for your amusement instead of writing requests alright? Sorry to bombard you so suddenly with all this LOL. BTW you’ll see mostly they’re Brian’s POV because that’s just how my brain is wired lol it’s been like that since day 1 I CAN’T HELP IT.

BTW the “His Majesty, KING!” series by chateauofmyheart (I think she’s most known for the Queen + Rare Words series and her Tumblr blog is chateauofmymind) is THE fic that completely changed my perspective on gender swap themes. After reading that I was fascinated by how good it can be in the hands of brilliant writers. Hence all you’re reading right now ahahahaha it’s like a floodgate been opened LOL.

Alright? Here we go with the first one - Modern day!AU, Poly!Fem!Queen(King) with supernatural elements? (I’m still gonna use male names and pronouns here to avoid confusion but at the same time it’s also because of I wanna see what female names you’d bestow upon them! Surprise me then? :D) Brian always has a connection with the “spiritual side” since he was a kid, sometimes he sees auras, energies, spirits and even on very rare occasions, deities. But it’s not as glamour as it sounds and he has learned the hard way to keep this solely to himself since no one will believe him. And to pretend to be “normal” is very important since not everything he sees is harmless, he has to find ways to avoid being haunted by evil beings, but it doesn’t always work; More often than not his health or mood is affected or he’s chased and stalked and has terrible nightmares hence the insomnia. By the time he got to college, though things still got really bad every once in a while but it felt like he has finally beginning to have situations under some semblance of control. Strangely, all these seemed to largely improved right after he became friends with Roger, Freddie and John, BUT inconveniently started pining after them real quick. His usual tactics were to keep his distance from the people around him but this time he’s drawn to them, feeling oddly alone when they’re not together; How sad is that? Falling in love for the first time in his life yet knowing there’s just no way it’s gonna end happily, but they don’t need to know that it’s fine he’s used to being the outcast. Although his first meetings with each of them does feel a little unusual? They sure are a weird bunch for example, who would own so many of candles? And why so many talismans as well? (Very beautiful though all seems to be handmade perhaps they’re just into DIY stuffs and craftsmanship?) Also the look they gave him? Gleam in their eyes akin to excitement and awe, almost predatory in a sense? Not to mention all those cryptic sentences and meaningful glances shared between the three. It sounds crazy but sometimes they gave off such strong “witchy” vibes as if they’re actual witches like the ones in the movies or something (NOT the Harry Potter kind but more like, The Craft? But in a good way?), that being said Brian does have this distinct feeling that they’re in on some kind of secret which he’s not a part of and it makes him feel a bit sad and left out, but he hides his feelings well(me: or so he thinks haha we’re all familiar with this trope yeah? MOVING ON LOL). These three are lovely together, but Brian’s afraid of screwing things up so he kept his mouth shut and just took whatever he can get. Plot twist LOL one night after a horrible near-death incident (caused by a horrendous curse aimed directly at him and much later on he learned that somehow it was powerful enough to break through the “protection ring” which Roger, Freddie and John had cast around him, WTH?!), he’s eventually saved by the other three and now he really wants some answers and perhaps the truth. It turns out that they’re all actual witches with different abilities and incredible powers including the oblivious Brian, Roger, Freddie and John had known this their entire life and all had proper training except for Brian who isn’t from a witchcraft family. Basically the other three have being protecting and guarding him ever since they’ve met (even though he doesn’t know a damn thing about his own gifts, they were very adamant that he belongs to them and their own “coven”). The four of them actually formed one of the most powerful witch coven ever and the curse was cast by another malicious one that’s jealous and afraid of how powerful they’re going to be once Brian realizes his own gifts, so they tried to get rid of him first. Cue a happy Poly!Fem!OT4 ending and a love confession + getting together yeah? :D And they all work on helping Brian to develop and harness his own powers. Love youuuu. (BTW I’m “obsessed” with Gothic aesthetics and vibes. This seems to be the perfect universe for this type of element to shine right? :D Literally everything ranging from character styles to witchcraft tools could be incorporate with it but I don’t think I did a good job in describing. Orz)

And off to the second prompt now! Shall we? :) Modern day!AU, Poly!Fem!Queen(King)? (Or no gender swap is fine too! Again I’m still using male names and pronouns here same reasons as above), It’s around 20:00 when Brian exited his plane. This past one month period of astronomy conference had been an opportunity of a life time and literally one of his biggest dreams. It’s a huge honor for him to be able to participate but after being away from his three lovers for so long, he does miss them terribly; The schedule of the conference is quite hectic and irregular with very little down time though the four of them do try to facetime or skype each other as often as they can, it still is nothing like being with each other in person, not to mention they’re all busy and more often than not had to resort to just texting in their group chat. His heart now flutters happily thinking about home and them. Just as when he’s about to call for a taxi someone’s hand came up around his waist – it’s John! And apparently John had arranged in advance for some people to come and take care of Brian’s luggage, Him however, remains firmly tucked by Brian’s side. Though they’re both not too keen on PDA Brian finds the urge to kiss him incredibly strong right now. John seems to be the same considering the heat in his eyes and if his smirk is anything to go by - “Wanna go for a ride? Our new car’s pretty neat.” “The one that Roger picked?” “Yeah.” “He agreed that you can drive it?” “Well he’s going to have to since the car keys’ being nicked.” “Oh my god John you stole Roger’s car keys?!” “It’s OUR car so technically it’s not stealing.” TBH John’s expression right now is kinda turning him on okay calm down deep breath they’re still in public god damn it. John proceed to guided Brian towards their ride and it is indeed a beautiful car. While John drove Brian asked Roger and Freddie’s whereabouts and got a mysterious smile and a vague “you’ll see” instead. It’s getting quite late and there’s not much traffic on the road so John might be speeding up a bit to enjoy the thrill. Normally Brian would fret over this but now he’s just happy, content and relaxed after coming home and reuniting with his lovers. He even let out an excited little shout and rolled down the window a bit to enjoy the night breeze when John sped up, which John beamed at him. “This isn’t our way home?” “We’re not going home yet.” “And are you gonna tell me where we’re heading?” “You’ll see.” Again with that cryptic-John-smile. They continue to drive up and deep into the mountains and eventually stoping at a lovely camping site with an elegant looking villa, John explained that they’ve booked this whole area exclusively for the next couple of days; They’ve missed him and all wanted to spend some alone time with each other. The weather is nice so it’s a clear starry night sky above and there’s a small bonfire crackling along with Roger and Freddie’s laughter, who are currently sitting beside it. Brian leaned over to John, planting a chaste kiss on his lips and whispered his thanks but apparently John had something else in mind. As soon as Brian began to pull back John shot out his hands and tugged on Brian’s hair just the way he knows how he likes it, that forced a surprised whimper out of Brian’s mouth and John took the opportunity to practically devour him with hungry kisses and tongue. Things heat up fast and Brian’s soft moans quickly became louder as John wasted no time opening up his shirt, caressing all over his chest and pinching his nipples. Brian let out a high-pitched yelp as John bit on his earlobe suddenly and at the same time dipped his hand into his underwear. Then Freddie showed up knocking disapprovingly on the car door window: “Tsk tsk starting without us already? That’s rude darling!.” Hearing this John let go of Brian’s lips, beamed at Freddie and opened the car door but didn’t retrieve his hand. Brian, now flushed and disheveled, looked up and gave Freddie a sheepish smile but abruptly let out another whimper as John started moving his fingers. He bit his lips in embarrassment, trying to contain his noise but quickly released them as John growled, demanding to hear his voice. Seeing this Freddie smirked and quickly bent down, grabbing Brian’s face and pulling him into another round of passionate and possessive kisses, full of teeth and tongue. “Oi! Stealing my car now John?! Wanker.” Roger appeared scowling but John just laughed and so does Freddie, letting go of Brian’s lips. Brian blinked a few times, willing his now distracted brain to focus on locating Roger and wordlessly held out his hands, beckoning him closer. Roger moved nearer and hummed his appreciation at the current sight on display, taking hold of both of Brian’s wrists with one hand, ran his other one over Brian’s exposed chest and suddenly pinched his nipple perfectly in time with John, who’s fingers just did something amazing inside Brian’s underwear. Brian moaned loudly and arched his back, feeling his orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast but soon let out a confused whimper when he felt John retrieving his touches. Roger laughed, nuzzled behind his ears and growled, “Only if you beg prettily enough.” Then he tugged him up and gestured towards the villa. “Let’s go and make good use of that giant bed.” Freddie nodded, agreeing with Roger, eyes drinking in the sight in front of him and licked his lips. “I’ll put out the bonfire then. Don’t start anything fun without me!” He kissed Brian once more, heatedly and full of promises of more to come, bit his lips playfully and quickly head towards the fire. “I was gonna make him come once before we go inside but your idea is quite tempting.” John smirked at Roger. “Will you do as Roger says love? Beg prettily for us? Should we allow you to come at all?” “Pleasepleaseplease.” Brian could only whimper, already feeling the familiar heavenly float that could only come from being cared for by his lovers. “Good boy. We’re gonna take such good care of you now, you can let go.” Roger began running his hand through Brian’s hair alongside with John, waiting for Freddie to return. Cue a steamy, sexy and loving Poly!Fem!(or not fem)OT4 night yeah? And there may or may not be a huge jacuzzi in the villa that they all made good use of. <3333

Okay now prompt number 3 is the standard type that one usually gets in their askbox if a writer is open for requests - Your take on in the Poly!Queen universe how would Freddie persuaded/convinced/forced?(XD) Brian to play harp for Love of My Life (and why Brian specifically? Besides all the rational reasons for him to be that person, you might be able to come up with something that’s outside the box? :D) and how the whole “Brian eventually constructed the song from piano onto acoustic guitar for live performances” business came about? Do you ever wonder why it’s not Freddie on the piano playing and singing like what he’s done with other songs? Or why not Brian on the piano while Freddie sings like the beginning of their live performances for Save Me? (AGAIN besides all the rational reasons behind it I’m still interested in your take. :P Have you read that Brian’s interview in which he says he thinks Freddie sees him as his own personal Jimi Hendrix and basically said that they’re gonna do this together? And those early year interviews regarding their album A Night at the Opera in which Freddie said he’s gonna make Brian play the harp until his hands drop off LOL and how Freddie describe the harp as the big thingy that angels play? Yeah Freddie we know that Brian’s your angel and SOUL BROTHER ahhhh I’m making myself emotional now QQ)

Ready for prompt number 4? Last one for now haha I think my brain is drying up lol. It just shows how amazing writers are! I salute you! You are wonderful. <333 Poly!Queen? Hot Space!Era (AUish)?, starting with them having a really rough time in the studio and it had been going on for quite a while (Prenter’s presence and words definitely didn’t help. It only gets worse and for some reason Brian has this feeling that he’s been singled out as target) and a particularly nasty fight broke out one day and even more unfortunate is that the fight got personal. And of course it has something to do with the infamous diss track: Back Chat (the fandom seems to think this song is aimed at Brian? though we will never know the truth ummm), Brian left the studio in the end (bitterly he denies the voices in his head calling him a coward for running away. He just wanted some fresh air, and maybe some alcohol in a bar that his bandmates do not frequent so he wouldn’t be found). Somehow, a band that’s also on the rise of fame managed to track him down while he was trying to numb himself quickly by getting plastered. They then offered a pretty sweet deal of him leaving Queen (“Since they don’t seem to love you anymore.” One of them murmured softly to him and hearing this is like been stabbed through the heart.) and joining them instead, not just as the song writer and lead guitarist but also as the lead vocalist of the band, basically saying that he could have everything; Strangely, it turns out that they actually had some “inside information” regarding of what’s been going on in Queen and had been following for a while, all of them keen on taking Brian’s side. Through the drunken fog in his brain his heart sank. Queen has already established the reputation of being a tight unit especially after their success, generally people respect their close bond with each other so there hasn’t been any “headhunting” propositions for a VERY long time; The fact of it appearing again now out of all times only brought out senses of dread, thoughts immediately heading to a dark place in which all the worst-case scenarios resides: is this actually his bandmates asking him to leave through a third party? Are they so fed up with him that they couldn’t even stand to break the news in person? Is this them breaking up with him? He’s suddenly so cold and dizzy that he started swaying unsteadily, the band then quickly offered to bring him back to their own brand-new recording studio for a tour and maybe some rest. Feeling drunk and resigned Brian just watched silently with half lidded eyes as they maneuvered him out of his seat. As they were about to usher him out of the bar suddenly all motion stopped as the band abruptly came face to face with Roger (eyes narrowed and fists balled, obviously fuming), Freddie (seemingly nonchalant with raised eyebrow but his coiled muscles as if ready for a fight totally says otherwise) and John (his face somehow even more unreadable than usual, eyes glinting ominously). Sensing the atmosphere shift, those who were around Brian all collectively took a step back and for some unknown reason, a few guilty looks appeared on some of their faces. Brian started swaying again without the support and Freddie quickly appeared besides Brian, wrapping tightly around him and helped carrying his weight. However, still feeling angry and devasted Brian tried to wriggle out of his embrace but found himself drunk and too slow and did not have the strength at to pry open Freddie’s “iron grip” at all (yeah how could he forget that Freddie is in fact a damn good athlete and a boxer, John also joined him in the gym these days these two often had great fun together). Sensing Brian’s struggle Freddie only wordlessly tightens his hold; Brian eventually gave up trying to get free after a few attempts instead just bit his lips (nervous habit kicking in now) and looked away, unwilling to face his three bandmates and lovers. “Where the hell do you think you’re taking OUR guitarist to?” Roger snarled, also coming up besides Freddie to help supporting Brian. After a quick check up on him, he frowned when he found that Brian’s skin is cold and clammy. “It’s great that you guys want to look out for OUR Brimi, but we’ll take it from here now.” There’s a storm brewing behind Freddie’s eyes, dismissal clear in his voice. Yet in the same time he’s very mindful of the drunk Brian now stiffly resides in his and Roger’s arms, careful to not cause him anymore physical discomfort. “It seems that a certain rat has been feeding you all kinds of information on us? Things that he’s not supposed to pry and definitely not supposed to blab about?” With a dark edge to his voice, John stepped forward, staring down at the few guilty faces in front of him, smiling cold and sharp. “Well he’s not around anymore, make of that what you will.” Slowly Brian blinked up at John through his drunken haze in surprise, it has to be Prenter that they’re talking about, right? But how— “Let’s get back to the hotel, Bri’s not feeling so well.” Roger grunted, tugging the other three out of the bar impatiently, his hold on Brian is steadfast and unwavering. “Come on guys, get in the car.” “Please come back with us Brimi? We know that you’re still hurting but I promise you, we’re gonna get through this together, alright?” Well now that’s just unfair, Freddie’s bringing out his nickname now in that soft tone AND looking at him like he’s something precious, really not fair at all. Brian could only nod, not trusting his voice yet but Freddie beamed brightly at him. “I’m sorry, baby. We’ll all have a long talk and fill you in on the details of Prenter after you get some rest okay?.” Now that’s just cheating. They’re in the car now and John’s petting his hair oh so gently, expertly lulling him to sleep. Cue the OT4!boys have a long hard talk about EVERYTHING and their relationship that involves lots of shouting, bitching, bickering, crying, apologizing and making up! HAPPY ENDINGS HELL YEAH and the other three explained how the whole Prenter thing came to light and with evidence, they fired him immediately. Also John may or may not have “convinced” (“I’d say threatened is more like it.” Roger snickered.) the other band’s manager to give up the location of the bar that they had sooo enthusiastically called him from, exclaiming Brian May’s about to quit Queen and join them and that they were trying to bring him back to the studio now.

I hope these brightened your day? Maybe if I’m lucky enough they could inspire you a bit? Perhaps they could be accepted as your writing prompts? :P Anyway I love you! Have a beautiful day and life hon. <333

****

Gosh thank you so much for submitting this anon! I really like them and I feel like we could add a lot to them if you wanted to speak to me about your ideas, so shoot me a private dm, yeah?

Also, you have a surprise coming for you in the next few days so stay vigilant of that!

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iamphella · 5 years

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The Difference A Year Makes

I almost titled this “the difference a tear makes” but that would’ve been corny and forced. Sometimes you just need to relax. But that other title would’ve been appropriate because there really are different types of tears and different levels of crying. I’ll explain.

About a year ago (spring 2018), I was in what I can now describe as the late stages of a dark period that seemed to have gone on forever. It began in the Fall of 2017, possibly before then, and got very ugly in the winter of 2017. I spent my New Year’s Eve in my bedroom by myself with such incredible brain fog and just pain and doubt and worry and wondering if it would ever end. It wasn’t pretty or fun and even putting myself in that place now as I write this makes me wanna stop writing, but let’s continue.

As I’m working my way through the haze in Spring of last year and trying to step back into the light, one of the things that helped me and gave me a shot of hope was this lengthy interview Charlamagne tha God did with Kanye West. I can’t remember everything in the interview, but there was a part where Kanye went into his mental and physical breakdown from 2016, an event that kind of threw me off for a second when it first occured. I was on some hilly sidewalk close to downtown LA when my mom called me and said “you heard Kanye West was rushed to the hospital?” I finished up what I was doing then got on my phone to get the details and while I was a bit worried, my faith which was still in tact at the time, didn’t let me worry much. I knew he’d be good because his story still had much more to come.

Back to last year and the interview. The interview came at a time when I was a crying machine (see attached photos). After a near decade-long drought of never feeling much of anything, I was feeling everything all at once and it just wouldn’t stop. For at least a month between April and May I cried at least once everyday. I felt alone and I was in pain and just wanted to know when and how it would be over. In his interview, Ye talked about how that episode led to him losing his confidence. He talked about how what led up to it was basically taking on too much. Being the person who has to be there for everyone, not sleeping or eating right, stressing, not fully healing from emotional traumas, the list goes on.

As Kanye told it to Charlamagne, you can see someone who once thought himself to be invincible who came face to face with his own mortality and how it can all really be over just like that. That was similar to what happened to me and I could completely relate. I was just going about my life, kind of feeling exhausted mentally and physically but still trying to be there for everyone and then the next thing you know, ambulance, hospital, mental and physical shutdown, wondering how you got there. Then months and months of isolation wondering how to get back to your old form or create a new one. Questioning everything about life as you knew it.

I fought tooth and nail for months to get the old me back. I wanted to erase the pain of everything that happened. Not just from the episode but dating as far back as my adolescent years. There was a lot of stuff I never really stopped to unpack. I had been carrying it with me for so long and with such a rigorous daily schedule, I never noticed that that’s what was weighing me down emotionally. I thought it was just the norm for me to feel so detached. Only while unpacking, did I see where a lot of my thoughts and feelings (or lack thereof) stemmed from. And I was doing all this unpacking, mental and physical rehabilitation, without the aid of any kind of therapist or doctor or any medication. That was another part of the interview that struck a chord. Kanye talked about how he wasn’t seeing a therapist and didn’t like taking medication because of how they made him feel (note: please see a therapist or doctor and take medication if you believe you need it. There’s absolutely no shame in it and it’s actually the wise thing to do if you need it.)

I was relying on some of my trusted methods to get me into feeling like an actual human again. God first. I prayed and prayed and prayed some more. Music. Any music that was positive or spiritual or soulful or had anything to do with pain and loss and love and life, I listened to on repeat. I couldn’t socialize or work, so the music was basically my only thing to do. That and watching sports. I meditated. I created a routine and stuck to it. Began using my social media apps a little more actively and cleaned up any kind of content that would trigger me or make me feel lesser because of what I was dealing with (there was a lot to clean up). I became comfortable with uncomfortable conversations and set boundaries for people around me. For the first time ever I also learned how to say no without feeling guilty.

Realizing that you mean a lot to a lot of people will reshape how you go about life. A lot of things suffered because of me not being myself. I came to the realization that it’s actually a selfless act to protect my well being so that I can be of service to the world like I was meant to be. We are all needed. Being in a prolonged “dark space” or being weakened mentally or physically causes a ripple effect on many more lives than we can imagine. It’s like a lightbulb that has a broken switch. You’re there but you’re not lighting the way for others to see clearer. You see them stumbling and kicking things and you know that you can easily help, but the switch needs to be fixed and needs to be protected from being broken again.

I don’t wanna make this any longer than it needs to be and I don’t like talking about myself for this long so I’ll start to bring it home. Almost all the books I read and the videos I watched during my healing always emphasized SERVICE. I remember Will Smith preaching the importance of service so I’ve always believed in it and I’ve basically spent my life serving. But I didn’t realize that the absence of serving was partly what caused my breakdown and what was keeping me there.

I needed to feel like I was of use to the world again. Needed to start doing things to positively affect others. Whether in my family, in my community, online, wherever there was a need. The more I did that, the stronger I became and the more my confidence began to restore. Parts of the old me that needed to come back were coming back, the parts that needed to be shed were shed and were making room for new habits and new ways of thinking and being.

This past Easter weekend was extremely powerful. night I had a haircut appointment set up with my friend and barber for about a decade when I’m home on the east coast. As I was rushing to get to his shop, I accidentally left my phone at home. Me 6 months ago wouldn’t even want to go to that barbershop. It’s at the mall, so many familiar faces who knew me before I got broken down by life. Why go there when I can go to any generic barber and get a decent cut? Me a year ago wouldn’t even go to the mailbox without my phone. What if my body shuts down on me again and I have an emergency? What if this? What if that? But Saturday night there was none of that. I was good. I was confident. I was....me. Went and kicked it with my guy, got a nice cut, went in the mall and then came home and watched some incredible basketball games. Hardly a worry in the world.

The next morning--Easter Sunday--I woke up early and starving. I shared Happy Easter greetings with my family and friends then headed to a brunch spot to get breakfast. Everything was so peaceful and serene. The girl at the bar taking my order didn’t seem to be in the best mood, but I didn’t let it change my vibration. I know she’s up early on a Holiday making drinks for people and taking food orders to make some money. Not being all smiles is definitely understandable. I spoke politely to her and tipped as best as I could then I left and returned thirty minutes later to grab the food.

Headed home and set up my battle station to watch Kanye West’s Sunday Service at Coachella. For the past year since the Charlamagne interview, I’ve watched Kanye slowly gain his confidence and his swagger back. From ranting at TMZ and in the Oval Office to selling sneakers at a Lemonade stand with his children for mental health awareness, to the weekly Sunday Services where he and friends and family gather to sing praises and dance. I’ve seen him skateboarding, go to Tokyo to hang out with his old friend Dave Chappelle, seen him stumble through his raps in the few live performances he has done (SNL and Camp Flog Gnaw). I’ve seen him basically just be human. I’ve seen him healing while simultaneously I was going through my own healing. I’ve seen try to be of service to people because that’s what we need to do to feel fulfilled.

The show starts. It’s everything you expect from a Kanye West show when all the chips are on the table. The fans were read; the curious folks were too. The doubters and the critics already began to build narratives and telling people what to think about an event yet to take place. But none of that mattered on this Sunday. When you’re called to serve, you’re called to served and that is your only mission. Everything else can be addressed later or never addressed at all.

The music was big and bright. The clothes were dull, I would assume by design. Almost like everyone there was covered up but naked at the same time. There was nothing to distract from the mission: to give praise for healing, for overcoming, for the strength and wisdom to navigate through trials and tribulations, both past and the ones to come. It was a bunch of creative people from all walks of life going to tell it on the mountain. There was no hierarchy. Everyone was on a level from the security guards to the Coachella attendees to Kim Kardashian to Kanye himself. The cameras never focused on any one person for longer than two minutes. This wasn’t to be watched. It was to be experienced. It wasn’t to be judged. It was to be partaken in.

And partake I did. As the huge blueberry pancakes and spinach omelette I just downed were settling in, my spirit was being lifted by the moment. Every sound was reminding me of how far I had come. Every person’s smiles and dance steps was contagious and made me smile and dance. And then came the one brief moment where the music stopped. Chance the Rapper had just flawlessly delivered his verse from Kanye West’s “Ultralight Beam” which was a moment in itself. Chano from 79th standing on a platform being proudly looked at by his Chicago idol. This is the stuff hip-hop dreams are made of. Chance steps down and DMX steps up. Yes, young Chance the Rapper who just recently came into fame in the last half a decade is being followed by legendary Earl Simmons at Coachella in 2019 and it doesn’t seem weird at all because we know why X is there. A video went viral three weeks prior of DMX delivering one of his signature prayers at Kanye’s Sunday Service gathering.

Now it was time for X to deliver on the big stage. Probably the first time in life where I saw DMX look a little bit nervous. He once was a headliner at Woodstock in front of a crowd of 200,000+ people so this wasn’t exactly new territory. But that was in 1999--two decades ago. Before he had to prematurely let go of the chokehold he once held on the rap game. That was before the memes of him breaking down crying on reality shows about his childhood, marital struggles and drug addiction. That didn’t matter on Sunday. DMX was there to perform a service and a sermon and he quickly shook off the nerves and did exactly that. My mom even called me later and said “that DMX needs to be given a church; he’s gifted.”

As X stepped down from the highest platform on the mountain and the choir and band were beginning to rev back up, the camera pans to Kanye West with his face buried in his hands crying unconsolably. I was already having an emotional and spiritual weekend and the Chance the Rapper portion was already making me feel all kinds of proud, just to be a child of hip-hop and just be alive. But then within seconds of seeing Kanye cry, and DMX and Kid Cudi-- two of the biggest survivors the music industry has ever seen--place hands on him to comfort him, the tears began to form in my eyes. Yes, it’s as cheesy as it sounds and I was really laughing at myself but I couldn’t stop it. Other choir members, men and women, were crying also. Everybody for their own personal reason that doesn’t need explanation.

My tears from a year ago were from pain and from confusion. My tears on Easter Sunday (also known as the day of Resurrection) were from triumph and clarity, and optimism and gratefulness. The people on that mountain had done it. I had done it. God, especially, has done it and will continue to do it. And that shift in perspective, and then in reality, is the difference that a year can make.

Peace and Love

#Life #Healing #Music #Easter Sunday #Coachella #Kanye West #Sunday Service #Service

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