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teyamsatan · 9 months

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀𝕀𝕀: 𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕣 ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕄𝕪 ℂ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕕

pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!reader

synopsis: In the wake of your separation, your mind is made as to the future of your rocky relationship with your once best friend, now best enemy, Neteyam.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death, confrontation, admission of feelings), strong language.

wc: 6.7k words

a/n: besties, it brings me sorrow to say that monster in me has come to an end, and i can only hope you enjoy and have enjoyed this story, that turned from a silly little fic about two people who hate/crave each other into so much more than i ever envisioned. i really struggled writing this chapter, and i hope i don't disappoint with the ending, and i hope you like it. what i can say, is that this is not the end for Neteyam and Vi, as I have at least one more oneshot in mind to showcase their ... progress (hehe). having smut in this chapter didn't feel right to me, but it doesn't mean it's not coming ;) pun intended.

as always, thank you so much for reading and engaging with my stories and with me, it means more than I could ever express into words. I love you besties, and i hope you stick around for a long time, because i will x

na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, oare - moon, nawm - great, tsakarem - tsa'hik in training, atokirina - seed of the tree of souls, sa'nok - mother, senpu - affectionate term for dad

lightly proof read, if you see something wrong, no you don't

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

Break my soul in two looking for you But you're right here

“Are you sure, ma ‘ite? You know we wouldn’t force you into anything, but… please think it through. Eywa’s vision was clear, and it showed you two together. Eywa is never wrong, you know this.”

You thought about it, barely able to look into Mo’at's beautiful, sagacious eyes that always felt like they could see through you, through deception and conceit, and get to the soul of problem, the inner core of your amalgamation of conflicting, earth-shattering emotions, covered by a crust of barely-there composure, ready to erupt with any slight friction of the tectonic plates of your heart. You thought about last night, about his words, that still rang in your ears in a muffled cacophony of sounds you were trying your hardest to drown out, that you were scared would end up drowning you, instead.

“I loved you, Vi.I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.”

“Even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."

You thought about his actions, about what drove them, about how, at the end of the day, they were the same driving forces that you acted on. Hurt. Betrayal. Jealousy. Fear. You thought about your actions. How poison crept beneath your skin and pooled in your heart and pumped it through your whole bloodstream, until it was all there was, until it blinded you, and how he started this, but you continued it.

How his fault was indifference, and yours was madness that only he had the power to force out of you. You thought about his parents, and how his dad was now your dad, and how hard you fought for hearing the magic words: “we couldn’t have done it without you, kid”. Those words, and the “you’re welcome” that followed, became as necessary to you as the air you breathe. It may have started, this need to gain Jake’s approval, as a way to get a rise out of Neteyam, your best attempt at getting him to lash out at you, scream and yell, anything but the horrible silence he ordained you with, but in time, it had less to do with the boy and more to do with you, with how his dad reminded you of your own, how the words of praise and admiration made the ones you were used to, that you’d never hear again, echo through the your tent and through the forest, hidden in between the whistles and sonorous trills of birds, but never forgotten, not to you.

You thought about his specious assumptions, and your words, and how, despite what you spat at him last night, they weren’t the whole truth. You did tell Jake that you didn’t want to mate with him, but not out of a lack of love or desire. No, the thought of one day being one with the boy who shone light through the broken cracks of your soul every day after your parents died, the boy who himself shone brighter than any star or sun or galaxy out there in the vast unknown, the boy who challenged you, and annoyed you, and loved you, and got you… it made you happy. It made butterflies flutter in your stomach and tingle, it made a fuzzy feeling gather in your brain and haze your mind until it was full of nothing but misty reveries, of a life beyond your wildest dreams and fantasies, of night flights and battles won together, of family found and family kept.

You told Jake what you did because your dreams couldn’t happen while you were pushed to the side and made to undertake the duties of a Tsakarem, they couldn’t happen if you had to forsake your talents and an integral part of yourself. You thought that, by saying no, you could make your dad proud, you could make Jake proud… make him proud. You thought that by becoming the warrior you knew you could one day be, you could help him… take away some of the burden that you knew he was shouldering all by himself, that of the eldest son, the responsible child, the prodigy of the clan. More than anything, you wanted to be worthy of him and of his love. That’s why you said no.

If I can't relate to you anymore Then who am I related to?

But now, it was all wrong. Your love, your hate, your history and your future, everything you’ve done, everything you should have done. It was all wrong. O’i’en was right, you realised. You held onto this broken relationship, this hopeless promise of a mateship, not because you wanted revenge, but because you wanted him… in any way you could get him. Your undefeated stubbornness, and the war that left too many collateral victims for you to ever be able to sleep at night again, led to scars in your soul no one could ever fix, that you’d have to mend yourself in time, that you never could while in an arrangement you should have declined to begin with. It was finally time…

“I’m sure, ma Tsa’hik.”

…time to say goodbye to the child you knew - the one you were, the one he was, and the love that took too much of both of you, the one that turned to ashes in your mouth.

And if this is the long haul How'd we get here so soon?

Neteyam’s confusion was normal for the dazed, quiet astir he found himself in after just waking up. What wasn’t normal, however, is how the confusion didn’t evaporate once the blurry haze disappeared, but only deepened with the sight, or lack thereof, awaiting him in the green, luscious clearing he felt like he was reclaiming, like it could slowly be his… both of yours again. He didn’t feel this way now, in this place that all of a sudden felt barren and cold, like an endless tundra, like his soul felt. You were gone.

In a way, it was to be expected. In some way, Neteyam knew last night was a just a fluke, a heady combination of overflowing of intense emotions that were too intense to be contained, that had to be released in the only way you both knew how, in the only way that would push the hurt aside and leave only a mess of denial and pleasure in its wake, because an orgasm is always easier to deal with than the pain that came with the cathartic act of confession, of owning up to your mistakes, of talking through years of hurt pent up in your already broken soul. You both did what you did best, so Neteyam shouldn’t be surprised. And yet he was.

He wasn’t only surprised, he realises. No, he would be happy if that was all he was. Neteyam was angry. Angry and seething, as he was, he picked himself up from the floor, the smell of you still imbedded in his nostrils, your cum still on him as he took in his naked form, before tightening his loincloth over his hips, a task easier said than done with the furious slashing of his tail whose movements he couldn’t control, no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t know why such intense, overpowering anger was washing over him in tidal waves that were crushing his spirit under their monstrous weight, removing any reason from his mind, any sane reasoning or critical thinking. Why would he expect you to stay? You didn’t owe him anything, and this changed nothing. Nothing’s different. Neither of you admitted to anything, neither were able to admit to the fault either of you had in the unraveling of your relationship, in the actions that lead to death and hurt, to pain and loss. So why did it matter?

"The first step in solving any problem is recognising there is one, brother. The sooner you admit your feelings, the sooner you can work towards fixing your broken relationship."

Did I close my fist around something delicate? Did I shatter you?

With a sigh, Neteyam made his way back to the village, hoping that once he saw you, all the answers would come rushing back to him, would make it perfectly clear as to the path he was supposed to take, the words that he was supposed to utter, which puerile confessions were better said and which better left gathering dust in the back of the rooms of his heart. When he saw you, he'd finally know...

The day was in full swing in the clan, as people were making the final preparations for the funeral processions that would take place once eclipse settled in. Neteyam winced at the mourning families, at the bodies laid on the floor, covered in leaves and flowers, in the way they'd remain, until their flesh would return to Eywa, return to the nature from which they were born, allowing for growth that would keep the community going. One life ends, another begins. That saying was as much part of him as any organ, any physical aspect of him was. That saying was the dogma of the Omaticaya, of the Na'vi as a whole. He knew it by heart, its meaning coursed through his veins, and yet, it didn't lessen the blow. It didn't stop the hurt and the pain of having to watch it, having to know to some extent, he was at fault for it.

He expected to see you by now, lending a hand, despite the fact you should be taking it easy - you were never one for rule following, and although you got better in time, especially after your blooming relationship with O’i’en, who, despite it killing Neteyam to admit, was a positive influence in your life, some things about you would never change. The need to help, to be of use, to prove your worth, the need to feel like you’re making an effort, the need to hide your pain deep inside yourself, no matter how hard life was grinding you down, it was intrinsic to you in a way you would never be able to shake. And so Neteyam was sure he'd see you here. But he didn't. Instead, he saw his mother, spotting him from across the patch of forest they called home, eyeing him intently, with a blend of emotions Neteyam couldn't quite place. There was a heaviness to her, which he couldn't say he felt surprised about, but the twinge of fear and pity in her eyes, clearly directed at her eldest son, was something he didn't expect to see, and it scared him. Without any thought, he tracked towards his family's tent, unable to break his gaze from her, whose own fell to the floor, before turning away and entering the home, the flaps swinging closed behind her, the sudden chasm between them putting a knot in Neteyam's throat. Something was wrong. What else could be wrong?

And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island Wondering, "Where did my baby go?"

"Sa'nok, nawm sa'nok, Oel Ngati Kameie."

His grandmother's permanent serious expression was somehow even more pronounced now, and Neteyam noticed the signs of weariness and exhaustion clear on her beautiful face. Still, with her most arduous attempt at a smile, she brought her curled fingers to her forehead and extended them in her grandson's direction, before giving her daughter a pointed look.

"What's going on?"

"Ma 'itan..."

The knot in his throat descended until it hit his stomach with a heavy splash, the feeling of dread nearly knocking him over.

"Mother, just tell me. Just please... tell me."

"She... she broke the engagement, Neteyam. What happened between you?"

The fast times, the bright lights, the merry-go Sorry for not making you my centrefold

The river that the Omaticaya used as a source of water, and nourishment, and entertainment, and hygiene, the one that was normally bustling with life and energy, was barren and deserted as you settled on its bank, leg mindlessly swinging back and forth in the cold, clear water. You focused on the way it felt, the flawless flow, as it touched your skin and how every once in a while, fish would nibble at your feet, and you were almost relieved that at least some creatures still looked at you like you were still alive. You didn’t feel like it, not anymore.

You didn’t feel like a Na’vi, like a person, more like a mix of pure grief and guilt that managed to swallow you whole, leaving just a cloud of misery in its wake. You knew you shouldn’t be here. There were better, more important things for you to do. Help was needed in the village, you needed to prepare for the ceremony, you needed to claim your ikran, wash her, cover her in the leafy shroud she would spend the rest of time in. You had to say goodbye. You owed her a proper funeral. You owed her a goodbye. And yet, your body was paralysed on the edge of this river, staring into nothingness, trying to find a way to make your mind, which was simultaneously empty and full of thoughts, each one more horrifying then the next, work and move your muscles, do the thing it always does where adrenaline takes over and makes you focus, makes you try, makes you brave. There was nothing now, not anymore.

Your ears twitched as the shrubbery rustled with movement behind you, and your scrunched nose relaxed as it picked up Jake's scent. Your coiled, immobile tail found its place nestled next to your thighs, and when you turned your head, you noticed your surrogate father, the mighty Olo'eyktan, dressed in ceremonial garbs, the red, feathery vest contrasting nicely against his dark, azure skin. You couldn’t look in his inquisitive, shocked eyes, that knew you to your core, the eyes that always looked at you with love and care, with pride and encouragement, that now you assumed would be filled with sorrow and disappointment, so you settled on looking at his headpiece, the imposing, oval stone a much more manageable sight right now.

"Kid..."

His feet picked up pace, the same way your heart did in your chest, and you let out a shocked, pained gasp as he kneeled by your side and took your body into his, his hand finding the back of your head and you melted in his embrace, listening to his erratic heartbeat that mirrored yours, that you focused on like a hymn, that pulled you out of stupor, and you watched as your tears stained his chest, before your hands found his back, tightening your grip on him.

"Sempu..."

"Shh, kid. It's ok. You're ok... we're gonna be ok."

Over and over, lost again with no surprises Disappointments close your eyes And it gets colder and colder When the sun goes down

Neteyam was trying to calm himself as he was pacing the floor of his grandmother's tent, so much so the rugs were now matted and torn. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe you. After everything, everything that has happened, everything you've both done... after losing O'i'en and Oare, after destroying his relationship and all his plans for the future, after promising him you would never undo this arrangement, after threatening him you'd both get to burn together... after everything... how could you do this?

The anger was all-consuming as it was lighting his every nerve on fire, as it was playing back, in his mind, over and over, your relationship, your rise and fall, the fall that never seemed to end, no matter how hard he wished for it to end, no matter how hard he didn't. He thought about how broken you both were now that the the fall did come to its unsightly end, and how it left you both in pieces, in sharp shards that found each other's flesh to dig into and lacerate, unable to stop yourself from falling apart around each other even at the bitter final act. He thought about how he should be relieved. It was all he wanted, right? You out of his life. He could go back to the girl, the girl he didn't love, no matter how hard he tried, to the life he was once envisioning for himself. If you truly gave up on him, on your quest for revenge, he should be happy. All he's wanted for the past seven years was you out of his life, right? If all you had and all you were was over... if the nightmare was over, that meant a new dawn would be breaking soon. He should want it... right?

And maybe he would want it, maybe he would be happy about it, if only there wasn't this intense hatred blinding him to the truth of the matter, to the potential this new revelation opened up in his life. Because fuck, things changed. Things changed when Oare died, when his sister talked to him, things changed when you woke up, when he found you in the clearing... things changed when you slept together. He told you things, things he didn't even know he felt, but he did feel, as you came around him, as he saw your face writhing in pleasure when you left scratches down his back. He saw your eyes as they locked with his, and in your eyes, for just a moment, there were confessions that maybe you didn't speak out loud, but maybe you didn't have to.

And then... you just... left. You left him, abandoned him without a word, or an explanation, without as much as a disdained "good riddance, asshole". How could you have done this, after everything that's happened? After everything, Neteyam felt like he deserved at least that... or anything, but not this. Not the silence, not to be told about it by his mother. He deserved more than this.

His legs stilled in place and his stomach dropped as your words, the words you shouted at him yesterday kept rushing back to him like the river after a storm, unrelenting and powerful, ready to knock out everything in their wake.

“You keeping your mouth shut and going about your life as if your life wasn’t impermeably connected to mine was what fucking hurt me, Neteyam!"

"You saying nothing, doing nothing, acting like I didn’t exist, like I was just a toy you outgrew, that was worse than anything I could have ever fucking done to you, don’t you understand that?"

"Do you understand that you abandoned me? I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."

Fuck.

Do you miss the rogue Who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Jake." you tried to contain the cries, you did, but as he held you tightly to his chest, caressing your almost-dry braids and cooing patiently in your ear, it was harder than you could manage in the moment. The sobs were loud and coming out in broken hiccups, but you couldn't find it in you to care anymore, and he didn't seem to mind.

"I did this, we did this... Neteyam and I, this stupid war, all the fights, and the battles, and the never-ending need to make the other pay... and all for nothing! All for something he heard, something I said, that I-... If he just asked, I could have told him, I could have explained, I -... fuck!"

"Shh... hey, look at me, kid." His fingers found your chin, that he raised, despite your silent protests, and you were taken aback by his own tears falling down his face, by the unending depth of emotion behind his beautiful, yellow irises, that reminded you a little too much of his eldest son.

"This wasn't your fault, baby girl. It was mine."

"I love you, you know? So much. I look at you, and I see Neytiri, and I see myself. I see your parents, I see this clan, that I chose to be a part of, that I'm grateful for every day of my life. This clan, this family I have, that includes you, this planet... it saved me from myself, from a broken path. And the thought of losing you, losing any of it... it haunted my every dream, it turned into a recurring nightmare that kept me up at night. So I did the only thing I knew how - I tried to mould you into the soldiers I knew you needed to be in order to survive the humans and their poisoned reach, their need to hurt and kill."

You were in awe of his monologue, that you didn't want to - you couldn't - interrupt. You needed to hear this, and he needed to speak it, and so you waited, and listened, and he spoke and cried.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. A father protects. But I failed to recognise how that would affect you, how much the pressure I put on your shoulders, on Neteyam's shoulders, would come to hurt you, to push you to this point. My words and my actions were what drove you both to the dark place you find yourselves in right now, and I'm sorry."

You tightened your grip on him yet again, and let his words sink in you, pass through you. You let them succumb you, like the water in the lake as it took over your body, until you were submerged in it, until you were a different person as you emerged back into the world.

"I'm still learning, kid. We all are... We all make mistakes, and sometimes the mistakes hurt and they cut and they fester, sometimes they are big enough to take over your whole world and eclipse any light shining through. But... people deserve a second chance. People deserve to be able to make amends, to fight to show you they can do better. And I hope I'm one of those people. And I hope Neteyam is, too. I think you two were meant for each other - I saw it every day of your lives, from when you were best friends to best enemies, you completed each other, complemented each other. You made each other better... and worse. But maybe that shows that one of you can't exist without the other. That maybe the connection you have is more than anything life can throw at you, or that you can throw at each other. Maybe it's time for both of you to get a second chance."

Will you forgive my soul When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

Neteyam felt dizzy and nauseous, a sudden need to anchor himself onto the ground more necessary than he could ever remember feeling. Seven years worth of mistakes came rushing over him, ready to swallow him whole. Is this how you felt? This whole time... this is how you felt? So insignificant and small, so used... abandoned, angry and heartbroken... just how he felt. He made you feel this way, he made 12 year old Vi, the person he loved most in the world, feel this way. You left him, just as he left you, and now Neteyam finally could see, finally understood, that you were right. It was worse. The not knowing, the self-doubt and guilt, the feeling like you were nothing more than a toy, ready to be outgrown, knowing you were disposable to someone you thought loved you... it was worse.

He knew he had to find you, he had to, he had to talk to you, he had to tell you all the words his heart was begging him to shout of the top of his lungs, begging him to stop holding inside of it, for it was done keeping his secrets, for all it wanted was to feel again, to dream again... to love again. But it would have to wait. Just a little bit more, it would have to wait, because right now, Oare needed him. Oare would be put to her eternal rest today, and before the ceremony, she still needed to be cleaned and prepared, and while you might not feel capable of facing such a challenge right now, he could do this for you. This he could do, and would, because he needed to, and he knew, deep down, you did, too.

It took a long time, but near eclipse, the ikran was ready, and Neteyam felt a pang of hurt taking in her beauty, so ethereal and extraordinary, so much like the person who came to call her a sister. The person whose voice stopped Neteyam dead in his tracks and sent shivers down his spine.

“Neteyam…?”

When he turned, and saw you, eyes puffy and red, filled with tears that weren’t the first you were shedding, based on the deep stains on your beautiful face, your chest heaving in panted, uneven breaths, released in soft, sorrowful sobs, he couldn’t help in himself, and with a few steps, he closed the distance between you and enveloped you in a tight, rib-cracking hug, one that, to his unending relief, you reciprocated immediately.

“She’s dead, Neteyam… she’s really dead. I wasn’t there for her and now she’s dead.” You were sobbing in his chest, and he tried not to let the moment overwhelm him, this moment that felt more like dreams he’s had than the reality he had to live through, ones in which you came to him, and let your guard down, one in which he got to comfort you instead of bring you pain, ones in which you were his and he was yours, one in which things were good, and pure, like you were.

Were you waiting at our old spot In the tree line, by the gold clock? Did I leave you hanging every single day?

“I’m surprised you’re still alive after today’s training. Dad’s not going easy on you, is he?” Neteyam looked at the little girl, laying on the ground, chest heaving, with eyes of steely determination he doesn’t think are like anything he’s ever see before, and how the tears that pooled in your eyes refused to drop, no matter how oversaturated they got. The tears just didn’t drop. He watched intently, determined to see the first one fall, determined to prove to himself that a girl who’s never trained before, a girl who just lost her parents, a girl who was not from a family of warriors, like his was, wouldn’t be able to withstand the pressure that his father never failed to put on him, and he now seemed intent on putting on you.

But much to his surprise, the tears never did fall. Instead, you got up, canines sunk in so deeply, the blood was pouring out of your lower lip - anything to stop the sob of pain he knew you wanted to let out. When you were on your feet again, you ran your hands over your bloodied knees, where the gashes were still spilling red liquid from when you fell off a cliff and scraped them, before shaking them dry. Neteyam watched in awe as the blood dripped from your fingers and into the ground, and all of a sudden, he was left behind, your footsteps echoing through the forest as you made your way back to the practice arena.

“Guess he knows I can take it.”

Were you standing in the hallway with a big cake? Happy birthday Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray? A universe away

"Have you ever considered, Neteyam, that I'm not your enemy? I see you, waiting for me to fail, praying that your dad... and my dad, were wrong about me. Have you ever considered I could help? That if I do this, you don't have to be alone anymore?"

Neteyam's eyes went as wide as his mouth as you turned to face him once more, a soft smile on your face and crinkles around your eyes, that almost hid the soft tears that dropped down your cheeks and mingled with the blood as they reached your lips, and he felt his heart skip a beat, and then two, then three... What was happening to him?

"I'm alone, too. I'm all alone. And I'm scared... of being alone. Of ending up alone. And I think you are, too. So maybe... maybe we can be alone together."

Almost as if controlled by a disembodied presence, Neteyam's body started moving on its own accord until it reached you, until his hand was in your extended one, a peace symbol you both learnt from the once-human Olo'eyktan.

“Friends?”

“Friends.”

And when I got into the accident The sight that flashed before me was your face But when I walked up to the podium I think that I forgot to say your name

“I know… I’m so sorry, Vi.” His hands found your face, that he angled upwards to look into your eyes, holding you tightly, as if letting go meant letting go forever, and he couldn’t, not anymore, not until he told you what he needed to say. Your warm breath brought life into him as he inhaled it, and the courage given by the revelations that loomed over him his entire life, but were only manifested today, it was enough to speak the words nestled in his chest.

“I’m so sorry… not just about Oare, but about everything. Vi, you were right. I did this, I started this. I should have… I should have trusted you, and confided in you. I should have given you the respect you deserved, the consideration of telling you what hurt me. You deserved the chance to explain your point of view, and I took that from you. What you said hurt me… what my dad said hurt me, but… you were my best friend, and I should have come to you. I should never have let you go, Vi. I’m so sorry.”

The words you've waited for what seemed like your whole life opened the dam of your soul, so carefully put together over so many years, now broken as it flooded your whole being with the full force of the sorrow and relief you've buried so deep, you didn't even know if you'd be able to ever make it surface again. But there it was, and his words brought your own forth, and with Jake's words in mind, with lessons of forgiveness and second chances learnt, you spoke, hoping he'd listen, hoping these words could undo at least some of the hurt you put the other through.

“I’m sorry, too. Teyam, I’m so sorry. After losing my parents, you, this family, were all I had. You were everything to me, and I came to rely on you so much, I couldn’t envision life without you. When you left, it broke something in me. It brought back feelings I was yet to deal with, ghosts that haunted me in the middle of the night, insecurities that continue to plague me to this day, fears of being unlovable, of being too much, of not being enough. I have always been too harsh, too guarded, I have always answered every problem with my fists first and my mind second. I’ve never known how to deal with grief, and so I did it in the only way I knew how - by turning it to anger. By making you the enemy. Every time your absence hurt, I needed my presence to hurt you. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being cruel, I’m sorry for taking it too far. I’m so sorry.”

It was necessary, this moment that was long overdue, and although you were sorrowful of the fact it took losing so much for you to realise it, you were grateful that did come in the end. You were happy that, as you moved your head slightly to rest your ear against his chest, listening to his slowly-calming heartbeat, you felt safe again in his embrace while you finally took in your sister’s body, that he spent more time that you could even conceive getting her ready for the ceremony, when you didn't. You were grateful that you didn’t have to go through it by yourself, but with the one person who’s known Oare just as long as you, who’s loved her just as much as you loved Seze, the person who despite it all, knew you to your core - your biggest dreams, your biggest worries, your biggest fantasies, your biggest fears. And here it was, the biggest fear, manifested in front of you like a sleep-paralysis demon, that you had no choice but to brave through, but at least, right in this moment, you didn’t have to brave it alone.

"Thank you. For taking care of her while I couldn't."

"You don't have to thank me. So many things might have changed between us, but this... this never will."

The ceremony was as hard on you as you expected, and by the end, you were so spent, both physically and emotionally, you knew you were in dire need of a nap, one that didn't end in the morning, and maybe not for a few good days. You looked over at Neteyam, who kept his distance, allowing you to be caged in between Lo'ak and Kiri's bodies while you mourned, but who helped you lower Oare into the tree nook where she would lay forever, shedding silent tears as he placed an atokirina on her, his hand finding your lower back as you both said your final goodbyes.

One day, you'd find another ikran. One day, you'll be able to fly again, and think of flying as the beautiful, freeing experience you have come to rely on for your sanity and happiness for the last 7 years. One day. But not today. And not for a long time. Oare made your life special, and worth living. Flying meant what it did to you in no small part because of her. Her thoughts, peaceful and serene, a nice balance to your own, kept you steady and focused in battled, mid flight. Not being able to return the favour would be something you'll have to deal with in time, but as you felt your entire family's presence surrounding you, enveloping you in love and care, as you felt Neteyam's lips make contact with the side of your head in a gesture you've known him capable of, just not with you, you knew, one day, you'll be okay again.

'Cause we were like the mall before the internet It was the one place to be The mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams

It was hot and humid in the forest as you trained - something about the deforestation brought about by the humans made the weather feel hotter, or so the human scientists told you. Either way, you felt as though you were inhaling water instead of air as you tried to catch your breath, the last drill always the hardest in the routine, always the one that broke most Na’vi who were unfortunate enough to be considered good enough to be trained directly by Toruk Makto himself… but not you. You did it, feeling fire in your lungs and sweat mingling with the blood spilling from various cuts from across your body and exacerbating the sting you felt prickling like needles throughout your whole being. Each muscle felt like it was being split in half, but you couldn’t care less. Not now, not when you were so close to beating Neteyam, not when victory would feel so sweet, not when you would be able to collapse in the dirt and pass out the moment it was over.

In the few months since the ceremony, life was more about healing for you than it had ever been. It was a nice change of pace, the peace, one you haven’t known since your parents were still alive, and for the first time in your life, you felt… almost whole. There were still things missing of course - your parents, who you kept in thoughts and prayers every day, and your sister, who you swore Eywa reincarnated in your new ikran, whose thoughts reminded you too much of hers for it to be mere coincidence.

“Vi, you better focus if you want to have any chance at beating me.”

You scoffed, and watched as he flew past you, not before sending a small wink your way, that made you lose your footing for a second, before quickly composing yourself and continuing.

“Don’t get cocky, mighty warrior.”

As far as your relationship with Neteyam went, it took a long while, but in time, you managed to mend what once seemed unmendable and earn each other’s trust once more. It was an uphill battle, most days, but you were grateful to have your best friend back, and to be able to finally meet the Neteyam everyone knew and loved, the one that was kind and considerate, funny and charming, helpful and loving to everyone around him. You were grateful that now, that included you, too. Your mateship was never brought up again, not to the family, that knew you needed this time, and was happy to let you have it. The possibility of it was no longer looming over you like a threat, but more like a golden aura of inevitability that you wouldn’t mind giving into, once the pieces were soldered back together through the mutual effort you were both willing to put into to rebuild both your broken hearts. One day he'd be yours and you'll be his…

But not today, as he beat you, with just barely a split second to spare.

“Ah, that’s too bad… maybe one day. One day, you’ll beat me at this, and on that day, Vi, I will fall to my knees in eternal servitude.”

When you kicked him in the shin, with all your might, and watched as he fell on his knees in front of you, you smirked, the grin wild and unwavering as you circled him, lifting his chin with your index finger and willing him to look in your eyes, mischievous and filled with amusement.

“Hmm, look! You’re already on your knees, Teyam. Now… about the eternal servitude…”

You had no time to react as he grabbed your wrist in his hand and pulled you towards him, until you both fell on the ground, and when he kissed you, you melted, like you normally did in the few times it has happened since that first time, in your clearing. You promised you’d take it slow, but in your defence, you were only Na’vi, and this was, in fact, a lot slower than how you wanted to take it.

You let his fingers roam your body and rejoiced at the way his lips were warm and skilled as they moved on yours, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before you parted them, allowing yourself the pleasure of this kiss, that meant so much to you, that you will never ever take for granted again.

“You taste fucking amazing, tsxepvi. Maybe next time, if you apologise and behave, you’ll actually get to cum.”

You both laughed in the kiss, and with a mental note to yourself to apologise and behave tonight, you knew you were ready to take the next step in this new life, one which neither you or Neteyam would ever have to brave alone ever again. When your lips parted, and he got up from the ground with a soft groan, images of your childhood flashed before your eyes, warm and beautiful, once more, as he stretched out a hand for you. You took it gratefully, allowing him to help you rise, making a silent promise to yourself to commit to more risings than falls, for as long as you could help it.

"Friends?"

"Friends."

The sight that flashed before me was your face Over and over, when the sound goes down

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt

@teyamsbitch@musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt @call-me-doll-face @puresirius-things @saturniac @call-me-doll-face @dreaming-of-the-reality @whorefortim @blacksgarden

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5seraphim · 1 year

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Parsee Mizuhashi: The Jealousy Beneath the Earth's Crust

#❁ edits #touhou project #parsee mizuhashi #2hu #gif edit #gif set #gifs #subterranean animism #th11 #touhou 11

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yoakkemae · 4 months

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davros: state your intent. martha: i’ve got the osterhagen key. leave this planet and its people alone, or i’ll use it. the doctor: osterhagen what? what’s an osterhagen key? martha: there’s a chain of twenty-five nuclear warheads placed in strategic points beneath the earth’s crust. if i use the key, they detonate and the earth gets ripped apart. the doctor: what?! who invented that?! [aside] well, someone named osterhagen, i suppose. [angry] martha, are you insane?! martha: the osterhagen key is to be used if the suffering of the human race is so great, so without hope that this becomes the final option. the doctor: it’s never an option. martha: don’t argue with me, doctor! ‘cause it’s more than that. now, i reckon the daleks need these twenty-seven planets for something, but what if it becomes twenty-six? what happens then, daleks?! would you risk it?

martha's character arc throughout her time in the series has her mirroring the doctor , sometimes becoming him in ways , but this is the moment where she mirrors him at what he perceives to be his worst -- as the one who pressed the red button , as the one who ended the time lords. it's why he gets so angry , it's why he rages that it's never an option , because he knows how much pain that is to carry , how much pain that is to hold. of course , martha would not survive using the key , not in the same way that he did , but the weight of that many lives ... it's not something he wants his friends to know how that feels.

in a way , i also almost wonder if it's jealousy because she'll get to die along with the human race , and he didn't die along with the time lords.

#quotes.#⤷ martha j.【 ❝ i spent a lot of time thinking i was second best but i am good. ❞ 】images.#⤷ martha j.【 ❝ i don’t just follow. i’m training to become a doctor of medicine. ❞ 】analysis.#i mean this feels like a t//en meta but shhhhhhh #god her fucking war doctor moment goes HARD

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revenantpoet · 2 years

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Love Blossoms, Death Blooms

A Lycoris Recoil Inspired Poem

It is so much easier To go through life Unfeeling No needs No emotion Just necessity Only basics

I learned at a young age Battered Bruised Abandoned That if I didn’t cry It wasn’t as painful The ache less consuming And if I didn't hurt No one would laugh Or ridicule me If I didn't feel No one would care Nothing would change

Except I would be stronger Smarter Braver Than anyone else

I didn't care I couldn't care And indifference and distance Admiration of my focus and sharpness Turned to fear Caution I became something less human To those around me

That was alright I didn't care about them anyway There were only the kids who judged me And the adults who judged even harsher Why open myself up Why feel If only to drown in shame? In betrayal and pain? To fail and be crippled for it?

Some people live with the illusion that life is kind That beneath this crust of humanity Is a core softness and love

But I've never seen that Not even a hint That the warmth of another human Is anything other than fire Meant only to burn

Unless It's you

To see someone who’s like me As distant as me As disciplined and trained and used as me Be so different So open and loved Smiling and laughing and dancing As if no care was enough to tether you down to this earth It hurt At first

Maybe jealousy Maybe pain Maybe grief I don't know But I pushed back harder Hid deeper And you stretched out your hand toward me You never backed down Only stepping closer Closer Baby steps Until it was my turn To shift

I don't know how, or why But you teased a smile from me Then another A sharp laugh And then a giggle Blossoming out of my dusty ribcage Like a flower supposed to be long-since dead Coming into its first bloom

Eventually I had no choice But to stretch out my own palm And grasp yours so hard I could never let go

Never have the colors seemed so bright Never has life felt so light, so real Never has the touch of another felt so warm

You're a force of nature A rollercoaster of good and bad Of ugly and beautiful A being full of flaws and perfection You are life personified And you took my dried and withered soul And taught it how to breathe How to be

But no good thing can last Can it?

The same life that you thrived in That you shared with me in abundance Rips you from my hands No matter my begging My pleading My crying

What is it worth Why am I even feeling If you're not going to be here? What is life When my own life has left me?

It's not fair It's never fair How can I find my purpose My reason to breathe And have it stolen from me So quickly? How is it possible? How is it right? How am I supposed to cope?

Now that you’re not here Now that there's pain How do I turn it off? How do I not feel?

- @revenantpoet

I told myself I’m too burnt out from writing an ENTIRE MONTH of dragon poems. I needed to recuperate to edit them to make an ebook. I’m only watching two anime this season, there’s no reason to write poetry for them!!!

And then Lycoris Recoil came and punched me square in the face. Yeah.

Anyway! Idk if it’ll grab me by the collar and drag me into writing more, but for now on AO3 it’s staying labelled as a stand alone, unless/until inspiration comes back for round two.

#Lycoris Recoil #LycoReco #Anime #Poetry #Poem #Poems #My Words

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unlockthelore · 4 years

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Path of Possibility

While doing her chores, Rin overhears a conversation and discovers the path before her is not set in stone.

From the series Affections Touching Across Time on Ao3, and part of the Four Seasons fic. For more updates, follow the affections touching across time tag on this blog. For more of this fic, follow the four seasons tag.

It has been some time since we parted ways. Don’t worry, my lord, I’ve been well here. Thriving, or so I overhear Lady Kaede say to Inuyasha. I know, eavesdropping isn’t kind but I was curious. Lady Kaede says that I am quite helpful; and there is no shortage of tasks to be done or adventures to have. However, some of the ladies in the village believe I should be raised with a sterner hand. I hear them speak of it, but Lady Kaede’s answer is often the same.

She’s quite like you in that way, Lord Sesshomaru.

Rin filled the water troughs slowly. This gave her an opportune viewpoint of the door to Kaede’s hut. A pair of women with their kimono knotted at the thighs and tenugui tied in a bandana around their foreheads walked the dirt path. One sported a child set upon her hip, red-faced from the sun and bawling. While the other was stern-mouthed and practically marching. Her steely-gaze drifting toward the pen where Rin stood. Their eyes met and the woman’s lips seemed to bend further into a terrifyingly miserly scowl. Rin frowned slightly as they strode past the threshold, the door snapping shut behind.

She lowered the bucket and lifted her arms as the oxen prodded at her back and sides, nudging her aside gently. Accustomed to her scent, they seemed content to see her as one of their own. An expectant ox glanced aside at her. Snout dripping with water and sopping wet when pressed against the curve of Rin’s shoulder, nudging her toward the trough. She giggled and shied away from the nudging. Climbing up onto the ox’s backside then leaping across the fencing, landing firmly on her feet, pins and needles sharply stabbing the soles of her feet and traveling up to her thighs.

One of the oxen gave a crooning call, and Rin smiled as she waved back. She knew the sight she made with mud caked up to her knees, crouching beneath the wooden planks to pull the empty bucket through the slats. However, she cared little. If she wasn’t on time then she would miss what they were saying. Hushed as conversations with Kaede were, it would be impossible to listen from outside the door or beneath a window without being caught. Rin grunted and gave the bucket one sharp tug, tumbling backward into the grass and mud with a yelp. Her hand slapped over her mouth as she peered toward the windows. When no one came, she hauled up to her feet and went to place the bucket in the shed then crept around the back of the hut.

She was careful to stray further from the deep mud. If a trail was left then someone would follow her, or worse, recognize where she’d been treading. Afternoon sunlight curved the rooftop of Kaede’s home, orange and gold much like the firelight flickering within from the hearth. Ducking in the mud behind the hut, Rin laid flat on her belly and started to inch into the crawl space. Dirt and grass, damp and clinging, stained the front of her kosode as she pulled herself along and kneaded aside the sodden earth. To keep from drawing suspicion, she had to keep her head low and her shuffling quiet. Peering through the darkness, Rin crept toward a few strips of light side-by-side beneath where a swinging hatch was carved into the floor.

Often times, when not cooking, Kaede would set something over it or nearby to keep insects and small creatures like lizards or toads from coming in. Now, Rin sniffed the air and bid her stomach not to rumble. Her mouth watered at the tantalizing smoky scent of fish and the crusted freshly baked bread Kaede had her fetch that morning. The rice gruel was likely boiling from the bubbling and gurgling noises, but she couldn’t tell whether it was the pot or the child still weeping.

The child looked to be no older than a few months or so, Rin thought. Which would mean the woman holding him was Nishi. Rin pouted. She and Kaya were always whispering to each other while washing rice outside of Kaya’s home, sneaking glances at people as they passed. Rin supposed it made up for the dull ins and outs of their days. Although, she couldn’t see the appeal in making fun of anyone. Rin brushed aside her hair to free her ear and twitched upright, resting her hand against the warm wooden boards.

“She is too much, Lady Kaede,” one of the women spoke, her shrill voice taut with barely contained outrage. “Why, my Toki never returned home with so many bruises in her life. They were —”

“I’m well aware of what they appeared as, Kaya,” Kaede interrupted patiently, the dull clunk of the ladle swirling around the pot fills the hanging silence. “I tended to Rin’s own and she tended to Toki’s.”

“Lady Kaede, that child can’t be trusted t—”

Rin bristled at that. Although she’d only been in the village for almost a year, she’d been learning just as well as anyone else. Lady Kaede was kind but she wouldn’t lie about someone’s well-being.

Almost as if reading her mind, Kaede spoke firmly. “If Toki trusts Rin enough to follow her into a fox bear’s den, and help her escape, I believe that is all that matters.”

Shame curled deep in Rin’s stomach at the memory. She’d been excited to adventure after the peculiar beast and while she warned Toki of the dangers, the freckle-faced girl grabbed her hand and pulled her along. Their warier friends decidedly staying behind in case they were in trouble. And trouble, they did find. Wandering into the foxbear’s den and happening upon its sleeping cubs was one thing but when the mother returned, they ran for their lives. Toki wasn’t as skilled with climbing and nearly slipped off the rocks carved out in layered terraces at the back of the den, leading to a small opening big enough for them to squeeze through.

Rin, while reaching the peak, looked back at her falling friend and the foxbear’s shadow along the cave wall. Toki hadn’t need to call for her for Rin to act. Grabbing a few loose rocks around the opening and chucking them at another end of the cave. The foxbear’s ears pricked, rumbling loud and fearsome as it raced past, paying no mind to the two squirming girls. Rin hauling Toki up by her trembling arms and helping her squeeze through first before following. Their legs were riddled with marks and bruises from crawling through the underbrush, whittling away tree limbs and branches. Toki growing tired and Rin lifting her up on her back, refusing to let her stay alone.

Kaede had been kind enough to let them come inside, no matter how dirty they were but the weight of her gaze only intensified Rin’s guilt. The elderly priestess tended to Rin’s scrapes and bruises but bade her to watch carefully because it was she that would help Toki. Concern at the loss of a friend simmered in Rin’s chest as she walked Toki home but the girl gave her a squeeze to the hand, and bid her to think of an adventure next time that wasn’t too hard.

A firm hug burying Rin’s nose against Toki’s shoulder until Kaya called and Toki bid Rin to hurry back to avoid her mother’s tirade at her lateness.

“You wish for Rin and Toki’s friendship to end?” Kaede asked unflinchingly, knotting Rin’s stomach and drawing a sharp gasp from Kaya.

Hurriedly, Kaya said, “Of course not, my lady… It’s only that the girl is undisciplined. Wild…” She trailed off with something akin to regret and the gentle cooing of the child’s mother filled the silence as their cries curdled into whimpering sobs. “Her time with yōkai must have changed something in her, stolen part of her soul, her humanity.”

Rin drew one hand to her chest and curled it in her soiled obi.

This is a chance for humanity to regain your trust.

Even if Kaya was right and a part of her humanity was lost in following after yōkai and trailing away, what did it mean to be human? It was humans who took away her family. Not yōkai. She slowly drew up to her knees though she kept her head bowed, toes curled in the springy grass tickling the soles of her feet. But she didn’t feel like laughing.

“Or perhaps ye both have forgotten what it was to be a child.”

Rin blinked several times. She had never heard Kaede speak with such weary firmness. As if she were tired of the conversation and ready for it to be done with. That tone, not quite haughty but one of grace. It reminded her of Lord Sesshomaru.

“I remember many a night when ye would sneak into the woods with Rikichi.” A soft gasp came from one of the women while the other sucked her teeth. “And when ye would take more than your fair share of the berries from harvest, and blame it on the little ones.”

Clamping her hands to stifle her giggles, Rin smiled. Stealing berries and sneaking off into the woods were things children did. Or so the adults often said. She wished she could have seen their faces.

“Children are bound to mischief. It is in their nature to learn from it and grow.”

“Be that as it may, she can’t behave like this forever, m’lady.”

Kaede hummed curiously and Rin tipped her head to one side.

“One day, she will need marry and she knows little of housework or cooking o—”

“Is this concern, envy, or jealousy parting your lips, Kaya?” Kaede snapped, cutting the thread of thought before another word could part Kaya’s lips. A dull thud of the ladle set aside and Rin could imagine Kaede, poised with nary an expression on her face to be seen, her one good-eye gleaming in the firelight. “I believe that is enough for today. It will be supper soon and I have need of Rin before we eat. If ye wish not to lay eyes on her, best ye leave now.”

“Lady Kaede—”

From the abrupt pause, Kaede must have dismissed them out of hand and within moments, shuffling footsteps and curt farewells preluded the door sliding open then shutting firmly with a rattle on its hinges. Silence rippled confusion, hurt, and determination in waves of cold and warmth. Rin peered over her shoulder and started to shuffle backward. If dinner was to be soon, she’d need to clean up and try to make sense of the jolting unease beneath her skin.

“I know ye are there, Rin.” Her eyes shot open, concentrating on the slits between the wood as a shadow approached, blotting out the light. “This was my home when I was yet a girl and I listened to a great many of my sister’s troubles from where you are.” Particles of dust drifted downward as the hatch opened, a tanned wrinkled hand slipping through, fingers extended. “Come out now.”

Rin hesitated for a second. But was there any reason to when Kaede knew? Shutting her mouth which had dropped open in amazement, she reached out and cupped her fingers around Kaede’s own, letting the elderly priestess hoist her through the hatch. A quick flick of the eye across her front, likely taking in the mess of her soiled kosode, but when their eyes met there was only satisfaction.

“Ye heard everything,” Kaede stated plainly, lacking judgement but the weight of knowledge rested heavily on Rin’s bowed head.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to Kaede’s. “Must I marry when I am older, Lady Kaede?”

Concern and understanding glinted in the priestess’ good-eye. “Nay, child,” she said.

Rin stared, shocked frozen. “But Kaya said…” She blurted out, and Kaede raised a hand to quiet her.

“She said what she did because she is none the wiser of what ye are.” Kaede pressed her hands to her knees, rising with creaking and crackling joints, her hands set behind her sloping back. “A child who succumbed to death twice over, trailed at the heels of a daiyōkai, wandered from one coast of this land to the other in search of Naraku, aided a band of heroes, and now seeks to live amongst humans until destiny calls once more.”

Rin scrambled out of the hatch and fit the wooden covering over it again, rapt with attention as she hurried to Kaede’s side while the elder priestess shuffled back to the boiling gruel.

“What Kaya spoke of is a life of a girl born and raised in a village where she hopes to thrive hand-in-hand with a husband, or in some instances, a life partner.” Rin hurried to grab one of the squared cushions set off to the side and put it beneath where the priestess sat. Kaede curtly nodding to her then settling down with a hummed groan. Once she was comfortable, she looked up to Rin. “I will raise ye as best I can but ye will choose what path ye wish to tread.”

Rin smiled and swung her hands at her side. Something akin to fondness swelling in her chest as she watched the elder priestess stir the gruel in the cooking pot. It smelled so good, but Kaede’s faith in her was even better. So similar it was to someone else that Rin was struck by nostalgia.

“You know, Lady Kaede, the way you spoke to Kaya reminded me of Lord Sesshomaru.”

Tok. The ladle clattered against the inside of the pot. Kaede glanced down at her grizzled hands then to Rin, brows raised in surprise. “Is that so?”

Rin nodded.

“How troubling,” Kaede chuckled, slipping her hand to the pot to grab the ladle’s shaft and begin stirring again.

“Troubling?”

Kaede nodded. “Sesshomaru can be quite intimidating.”

Rin pressed her lips in a thin line. She’d seen him bare his claws, and in the heat of battle, most often not to protect them. Then again, Jaken always paled when the daiyōkai glanced over his shoulder. And there were some who paused and immediately threw themselves out of his path or at his feet. But he was nothing but kind to her if not a bit aloof.

“Mm, sometimes.” Rin admitted, swinging her arms in an arc as she spun on her heel. “But he’s very kind when he wants to be.”

Kaede seemed amused by her spinning though she set the cover on the pot. “Ye do not fear him?”

“No,” Rin laughed, finding the question as silly as it was easy to answer. “Lord Sesshomaru is my friend. Just like you, Lady Kaede.”

When Rin spun again, she found Kaede looking at her with a tenderness that made her insides feel like mush. She’d seen that look before. A mask of calm, while affection was set in the eyes. Gone before Rin could think on it further.

“I’m honored,” Kaede said to her. “Now, go on. There’s still light and ye need a bath. Dinner can wait.”

Rin blinked slowly then looked down. Bits of grass were burning in the hearth along with dirt. Spots on her kosode now freed must have flung into the flames and she smiled sheepishly, waving before running off.

#inuyasha fanfiction #rin #kaede #fanfiction #my fanfiction #affections touching across time #four seasons

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thunder-rolled-a-seven · 4 years

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For A View

Ark: Survival Evolved / Island

Characters: Nerva, Mei, Rockwell (ish)

---

Notes: Been playing for 2 years. Finally caved in to write. I enjoy the thought that Mei unintentionally set everyone up for pain because she couldn't let go and let herself be the hasty death machine she is (before Extinction). Also, because I'm an ass. Pardon errors - I tumblargh via phone.

---

Nothing.

The word pounds against the walls of his skull, behind his eyes, and within his chest, and suddenly the iron will he had wrought upon man, beast, and land withers into frightening despair. He falls; his sword, fashioned with the crest of his homeland and christened with blood, clatters upon the moonlit tile beside him. Its clamor echoes across the expansive, hollow chamber: this cold, metal end.

Fingernails crusted with blood, soot and sweat carve into the floor as doubt rakes across his once soaring pride. He had been dutiful, courageous and fortuitous in Rome and on the nightmare he had awoken to, and yet he had been denied the power he sought - the blessing he had been promised. With it he would have tamed the Island, and ruled in the pantheon's name, bringing justice, honor and peace to the tireless, savage land.

But no. The heavens he sought were empty.

"Nothing."

The warlord's head bows towards his chest, pinching the sorrowful croon of his failures into a whisper. His throat burns from his former cries of fury, and his tongue, bitten in battle, bleeds bitterness into it. With a clenched jaw the once decorated commander forces back the salty tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, refusing his warriors the chance to see him cry.

But there were none left, he remembers with a sharp exhale. He was alone. No one would judge the woes intending to caress his battered face. No one would tell this cautionary tale.

Gaius Marcellus Nerva floats above the world on a sea of corpses. By poison, fire, stone, teeth and claws, the remnants of his once powerful army had perished, leaving only those whom stayed behind to carry the New Legion's banner. Weakened, they were likely undone by the Island's small minded rabble - a legacy turned to ruins and dust. "All this death," he pants, his words heavy and sour, "for a view." Inevitably he begins to wonder if anything would have been different had he done nothing at all.

Earth brown eyes, tinged with red, rise towards the gallery of stars beyond the chamber's translucent walls, and remain blind to their majesty. Unknowable, untouchable, they stay as distant as those he knew as a boy. He shivers beneath their ancient gaze, wishing to trade this hollow tomb for the coarse summer sands, sun dappled woods, and human chatter from those better days he had long since left behind.

Instead, a chilling peel of laughter shatters the stillness, and the requiem of his thoughts disappears like his breath within air.

The alchemist, Rockwell, his once honoured guest and the only other survivor to that great massacre, must have found amusement in the foreign diases - some code or drawing that furthered the scholar's interests and none of the former lord's.

Nerva's core immediately explodes with burning jealousy, a consuming rage that sears his palms and tightens his already knitted brow. Snarling, he lifts his gladious, and jolts to his feet, his faults forgotten. That snake! It was the alchemist's silvered tongue that seduced the warlord towards the path of ruin, he reasons, wiping the dust from his eyes. For this he would see it cut from the bearded man's maw.

Determined strides soon echo a fiery dirge across those mirror-smooth floors. Fate's ugly number would fall upon the proud, self-proclaimed gentleman. None of Rockwell's struggles would stay his inevitable death, so help him, Mars.

Amidst the forest of silver hued pilars he discerns the elder man's shadow upon tile and wall. It writhes, limbs flailing like a kraken's tenticles as its owner frantically pours over foreign discoveries. The sound of mirth is quickly quelled by frustrated growls. Nerva sneers. Should Rockwell remain still, he would be merciful. "Gentlemanly." Their partnership had been of mutual respect before it crumbled, stank, and staled. It was the least he could do to honour their agreements before the fall.

He takes another step and another. Practiced muscles coil and ready to launch his blade between hunched shoulder blades and sever spine.

A light explodes between them.

At once the commander stumbles back, shielding his eyes from the blinding might separating him from his quarry with one outstretched hand. The beam is familiar, fluxing and hexagonal like the gate he passed through to this astral theater, and for a moment he wonders if he is not trapped amongst the stars in failure after all - if his gods had chosen this moment to bestow their presence upon him. His heart skips, and his eyes dare to flutter. Lips part in one last gasp before he holds his breath in anticipation to what he might see.

First nothing, not even Rockwell, whom might have slithered away just in time, nor the figures decorating the ground, nor the stars that ignored him now. Before him lies a breathless mass, unknown, less dense than space and hollow. Then Nerva stiffens. Slowly, between splayed fingers a darkness different than shadow dances: a ghost, a dream; a nightmare made tangible with long dark hair and darker eyes stares back at him through the white void.

His heart falls, crashes, and splinters as the prismatic light fades back into the chamber's eerie calm. He barely hears the rise and fall of his own breaths beyond the flooding rush within his ears.

Demoness. It was the first time he had seen her so alone. There had always been a pack of scales, claws and teeth at her heels to accent the chattering sounds of death. To see her surrounded by the same silent, recycled air as him made the approaching woman smaller than she already was.

But no less deadly, he curses, steadying his ground. And no less a dagger in the Roman's side.

His lip twists into a bitter, mocking curl as she steps confidently before him. He would curse the gods if he did not fear their wrath, for even still he silently called for favor and aide. "Cruel dryiad," he hails in spite tainted awe. "Beast Queen. Had I not delivered you to the gates of your snow-capped hell?"

Her lips purse between the curtians of long black hair that far past her shoulders - near her hips, which swayed with the grace of a prowling, hungry lioness. Nonetheless, beyond her stoic return he could see the twitch of pain in her thigh, where he had once struck her in hopes of turning her lame, and the anger from her own defeat still burning within her slanted eyes. She says nothing in answer. Her greeting came with the raising of her sword towards his heart.

Nerva's jaw clacks with vigorous resolution, and the blood hums thick between his bones. His sword sings and cuts once through the air, meeting her challenge with fervour.

"Then let's try this again," he hisses and both warriors lunge towards their fate.

Rockwell and the divine could wait.

#Ark: Survival Evolved #(Survival Denied.)#Fanfiction #Musings

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sirjustice233-blog · 4 years

Text

Dont dude, Kinda, Sickening bro

We were fighting me against ya and vice versa, so don't send folks to ambush me that i ought to have opened 1 a/c 4 that time to post never to return to it, like sometimes i do 4 some days b4 resorting to the above as they see an additional writing. Its me not u and why u see that yet 4 like 5 years u have refused to accept the fact that if u guess the email of tumblr a/c u cant return to it. Looking 4 places to eat at, stop dude, me i will hurl u with stone lest police shoot me even in their post which when i report the same they have placed women with big 4heads which dont know where they are going. Look 4 ya types dude, u big 4headed women, i can be ya client in prostitution but not in matrimony dude period.

They came to ya door, Congo blooded men who still think Kenya IS RICH and they will manipulated the negro women as they have purported and what u like is what u like so competing with ya. Bringing kids they played part to up-bring while disrespecting ya and at that time have a sad face as if they talked to God, if u fail to hearken to their plights, kinda, u risk going to hell and they are here to help u get out of the same which as below is a big lie. Lazy people of no definition dude but the above is pure jealousy gimmick. They think at that time u live good, so after get ya poor story they immediately belittle ya which again is u show signs of maneuver, they show you their risk watch “SA“ in Swahili to signal u of organized theft in SA as i have explained it in sirjustice199 where a friend inducts u, with u if u do the same they have organized a shoot out 4 ya cause if they eliminate ya in the country it will be known is the Big man friends which can be catastrophic so they wanna do it the SA way dude liaising with some Chinese, Indian and Russian people. Big shame dude, your kids we mark, once all go well they are point of elimination either via frustrations or killed in other unknown ways dude.

Yeah, he has refused, yes i have refused and who is you dude, who now wants may food and kinda stay at my premise. Shoot me from the back or hurl grenade at me, you gays of no shame. Even that SA i want to make poor not to be thinking of getting to it like with how to make artificial oranges, fruits, eggs that don't spoil the teeth, making electric poles and AE generator and Pay TV as u can google new African countries with home made such as 2goinvoice online source they get the same by placing money online as explained above. They monitor ya cash in pretense, u r lazy of little income but deep down want to send kinds to ya house. Very bad character indeed. If u can understand judgement is done in Minneapolis, get their, and if still not then playing insane to get buy or needs killing as king of the jew come in handy to solve that puzzle dude. Memorandum building in Clinton ave Minneapolis- Jesus alluding in swahili Mfalme wa yawhodi. They even say now u r Christo yet u have warned them many times of the same wanting to hit ya eye and still come back to ya the next minute wanting ya food together with their kids, eti they got something special in store so in future dont want mant to join to benefit from them, so u feel early as they are feeling to stop yet when u ask them of that thing, its hacking a tumblr a/c to delete which the software u have used they know not cause each timke u visit the cyber u download a new 1 altogether from the net and use as u open another everyday tumblr on their placed on computer software like mozilar and chrome which if they find the same when you left not logged off, they get happy they have the software they want to shift the a/c to cement the jew/Egyptian thing will rise to no avail dude. Stop guys and resort to farming as u have always done or other feasible ways known after heavy consultation dude. An advice bro

Kikuyu are now engaged in war as violence and the Somali to cement the truth in the link below that their teeth will be made white not with milk but by Hydrogen peroxide made out of Euphorbia in the boom process that if people could have not known the same they could be placing such in toothpaste can and selling like 300% above normal price as teeth whiteners so they build USA as most people use such to white their teeth from them and the bible was written to talk of the future that Christ is not yet buried or crucified as which year was hydrogen peroxide that use to teeth unearthed? Along time dude even b4 Africa colonization and their eye aint dark as the white eye rather red but can be brown out of illicit liquor sold and another reason they buy from Mr Hindu another set as can shift ya teeth to be white sometimes b4 they shift ya normal teeth or if u have eaten deep fried Nile perch hot they got nothing to do. So the people who changed the bible must rethink twice b4 they say they are insane reason why Kebi went their to investigate the above whether true or false.

https://biblehub.com/genesis/49-12.htm

They detergent in the bottled pictured below as 1 send me that link in my Fb as a text has the ripple effect of shaping ya head and very smoothing ya face. Try it women, stop much with ya face to no avail as the mirror u got aint perfecto dude, u may think 1 got to plastic surgery if they use the same

https://www.google.com/search?sxsrf=ALeKk03nZXDU0oDq384iYxfOtZ4m6TgxDg:1591611156916&source=univ&tbm=isch&q=baby+starsoft+bottle+images&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi2n4PN_fHpAhVVUBUIHYncDzEQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910

When after making holes to below the earth crust on ya boarder line from below as u now know the bearing, place cameras with lights which only can be switched on when need be as the camera got night vision to monitor any intruder objects. The camera can be wireless as the boosters that connects to such place at intervals until it reach near the hole as they USA the cooker timer and a dynamo technology to operate so no worry dude or just used cabled wire with like supplied electricity. No need 4 placing drones beneath if such proves futile or expensive to ya, moreover the camera should look down to monitor intruders coming from down as the mention in the former case looks forward as with Christ posture on cross after and b4 he died. Read between the lines dude, don't be over taken by time.

The whites knows that kebi has defeated them, yet they want to know which kind of abuse that fellow will push forward maybe in terms of their old age skin type or of race as many are kikuyu and masai/trukana blood which kebi likes not and even more as he leaves his Fb not logged off so 1 can do the art of abuse b4 he is queried dude. India still rich with plastic surgery as they can shift ya baldness with a new airline from 1 who is shot or due to be buried, teeth or any body part dude and that's the remaining strength dude

Kebi with Amagy mkubwa, get the story dude, dont wait

Magy come and shower, amagy answer my legs are swollen, or am experiencing a slight headache, an old some1 from Kenya countryside bad smell choked me to make me loose control to hit my head on the floor to bring the same, Now amagy come and cook my eyes are heavy will not make me tomorrow work good at work, or am applying make up a friend of mine is coming to pay me a visit, amagy come wash plates, it will erase my nail polish, amagy come mop the floor, am sleeping if i do so tomorrow i will be late 4 work, amagy i have bought food at the local Mcdonald, amagy insinuates gives me 2-4 minutes babe am coming and Finally amagy come and we have sex, amagy ni seke seke, oketo ng’amruok mbele ma yaani ameweka kutobwa mbele, setting her legs atease is her 1st another job as made easy without of thinking of the dubious tricks she purported b4 or wanting to play like still young yet grown. Middle life crisis, big shame girl, nene kaka-ongiyo kebi ka-ochongoriyo bird as women watch Christ crucifixion tentatively as if missing the grinding ripple of kebi tendentious manhood. Change girl, it high time.

Their is a certain glass like bulb that u can open as it houses the many bulb technology inside, when burns up u get them out and close the big bulb and still works. On the tip of the big open like bulb it has a step down transformer 120-240 to 30 V which the place inside bulb uses to brighten the whole house as if it was the normal 240 bulb releasing their4 less heat and radiation to ya body and a big plus 4 people who don't want much heat in their houses at night.

Now its end signs with alternator generator u have disturbed Kebi 4 almost 5 goods years and with this will not take even 1 year to elapsed b4 u r finished lest u change. With source with aluminum bars are not yours 4 u to claim only the cooker timer and dynamo technology, question is why not the former to be claimed or u make? Stop dude!!! Time 4 reckoning is handy as a day of judgement around the corner dude the same Italy makes even small and cheaper more than China made 1 like Linz or Merrali Alternator Generators.

Dear mama please we give you that name to keep ya head up high that we mind ya, Dont allow any1 with a grenade down the now spring in the bush at Bar Kalare or defecate or urinate on it as we use it even in cosmetics, facial wash and cleanser as scrubs to do the same purpose described in the tumblr a/c sirjustice199. That water built Kansas City, MO with its environs dude. Keep an eye on it dude thats why many who live their where brought from the USA 4 the same purpose bro, the like of Delan and Kebi.

The already dug holes leading to the below of the earth should be Gazetted and camera placed to capture all that happens around such fissures as the videos placed like in computer 24/7, 365 for the public to see or witness. Some people go as eating in peoples houses to get the last glimpse of such people character to act as a precedent to be with them later in good life or not and some are even chased 4 the same, so they write 4 the public to know, so don’t rush to criticize the same, as that can save them out of hell fire as question that day will be, if u want us to acquit y of hell fire, then, well, what did you do to others, Please give us your account in detail. Wait until the people who lived with me to die to give u my helping hand a/c as they fear to be in hell fire immediately rather be in custody dude

Russians love free things from people,in that if that friend has became sturbon to offer the same, they resort,kinda, walking with him to reach out to his pocket if he can realize,if u can they can kill ya if u still wanna be with them and not offering the same offer u did previously, so u disassociate with them as even u can leave them in ya house and if u got a pretty wife they long to do the same to her to find out if they are still accepted to survive which if all Lupe holes blocked, kinda, they wish the ground to break and swallow them alive as the Luo got that character so in times futurity benefit from Russians or claim that pride if the Russian people win to get respect which now aint the case as seen dude, better change ya tactics dude

Guyana and Filipino people knows well their ears aint the same and are not ashamed, still want to 1st and geared towards hard work as opposed to the Luo tribe, change dude or change will change ya, they don’t claim other tribes being them. Accept ya self dude as well as those fellows with gap between their teeth, accept ya tools and limitations don’t transfer such blames to others as u want only to say they are ya roots dude yet obvious not bro

Clinton Ave Building structures in Minneapolis link below

https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=images+of+building+on+cliton+ave+in+minneapolis&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjygZ3wxvHpAhVmx4UKHeQ0A6YQsAR6BAgJEAE&biw=1024&bih=654#imgrc=veEn-EtYkH9APM

The casket or Coffin that can be carried on handle without breaking as this elevates a certain spirit as calm u down as shows respect to the dead rather than that they are just maridadi and casket carried from below to signify short-coming can be made this way, Metallic hard plate or mesh, placed bellow the bedding/ casing the corpse rest on with protruding end to the casket holders name above, with that in mind if u carry the coffin the metallic plates a above hold the dead man weight as it carries the corpse not the wooden casket if it so cause now we got metallic. Dude hard to explain but u got it now as in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=inside+of+a+casket+images&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjerPmEyfHpAhUHkxQKHdEHBEcQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

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sirjustice187-blog · 4 years

Text

Dont say

Dont say u wanted people to disturb me more 4 me to know, cause 1st and 4most u ought to teach in class the absurdities u r forcing people with and another we are done with u, neither we need ya support as what u hold dear and did not want us to own reason 4 ya jealousy now we make at home as in following tumblr of this a/c. You foolish and bustered, u defeated, then well, good 4 ya, but to me take ya ass home dude or ama fight ya if chance permit dude, u stupid and ugly, u of no-sense as senseless man and liar of disciplines in school so many respects ya, Go straight to hell dude

Even the already folded iron pillars awaiting concrete to be placed can be made in sewer water then many spit saliva upon it not with food products that u use syringe loaded with cold water to do the same not to bar customers, both makes the same and no loss dude.

https://www.alamy.com/stock-photo-iron-rods-used-for-construction-56670241.html

Armored tires/wheels can be made just with the normal rubber but on where it touched the ground from inside at intervals where the thread/pattern goes inside is the armored like bullet proof material that make the gun bullet if shot remain with the soft left part that touches on the ground and the 2 bullet proof like rubber/cloth that sandwich the above while the sides can be glued to like the whole bullets proof jacket/vest material, to some degree it can be of great help as avoid the tire to be deflated as soon as its shot as can save such occurrence on a like 80% way, reliable. Images of bullet vest in the link below fellows

https://www.google.com/search?sxsrf=ALeKk00SwtqpW8WugRmZCj2MFgGluy0wKw:1589798657831&source=univ&tbm=isch&q=china+bullet+proof+images&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjOpo7Cnb3pAhUlAmMBHSucBbwQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910

Or the above in the link can be placed al-round inside in the middle of fat made tire b4 it reached the tube or can be tubeless. Though bullets penetrates the upper layer it is hold by the bullet proof cloth b4 it reaches the inner layer to the tube to deflate the tire which were are trying to protect.

People in a well planed nations should be loners and that's whats separate a poor nation from rich 1 and people should just meet in joints as shopping, eating or in a bus stop or like a park/hotel to consult not in peoples houses to place voodoo or spread malice with favor of eating their and when they say they cant know if u love kids or kid haters then the apartments comes in to challenge them as those people are give rooms in apartments with many families and kids to investigate the same b4 they move to their own solitary lives like in the link below not in-pretense synonymous with Africa

https://www.google.com/search?q=big+apartment+buildings+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwis7_nDnb3pAhVN0IUKHZDmCjsQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=big+apartment+buildings+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQAzoECCMQJzoECAAQQzoCCAA6BggAEAUQHjoGCAAQCBAeOgQIABAYOgQIABAeUPX0FVje0hZgvNUWaABwAHgAgAGlAogBkDSSAQYwLjEuMjmYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=BWfCXuzYKc2glwSQzavYAw&bih=910&biw=1280&client=firefox-b-d#imgrc=fDx75mgY38qxCM

https://www.alamy.com/stock-image-two-apartment-buildings-in-the-big-spanish-city-of-benidorm-alicante-168417615.html

Christ made food in the temple after carrying them up while walking heading to the same. King of the jew to bring out reality of the 2 sides explained as well as Jacob explained the man of tent as this 1 had already be told to help hold the truth of the explained above to bring out impeccable reality like in the link below

https://www.bibleref.com/Genesis/25/Genesis-25-27.html

If you get a big house like in the link below with many rooms where other unattended to never switch off the lights as in terms of black-out u got a back up like solar or Alternator generators to keep the lights on cause this the opportunity 4 theft as those who use the drone in the link below get to your window when the room is dark using 1 who transfigure who had already gotten inside the house via the above b4 again transfiguring to normal person but in a naked manner which they don't give a hoot, then like in a relay pass/give him the gun to ambush ya and well, u can employ armored glass on ya window cause when looked either the transfiguring person opens from inside or they break it nicely with some chemicals to enter and do u atrocities described above

https://www.google.com/search?sxsrf=ALeKk014KBzdyiKoQafGRLO_h_LRVHGsuw:1589799655137&source=univ&tbm=isch&q=big+houses+in+california+images&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj7-NSdob3pAhUS9IUKHeZRDusQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910

http://www.tacproducts.co.za/index.html?gclid=CjwKCAjw5Ij2BRBdEiwA0Frc9QLm6mP0GBGko6KKd9jSa335dOpDE0vmEnBghhWA4PpjPgXZ3oWI2RoCc1YQAvD_BwE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKD_YRJylXk

The Kenyan innovation in the link below that is used to get into window of USA or EU big houses as well as getting below the earth crust as explained below

made in Kenya's first passenger drone, Now tell us still it uses linear motion or another protocol, don't fool us guys

https://www.afrikatech.com/misc/kenya-experimentation-first-passenger-drone-africa/

Images of china Prefab homes, with nice windows, even local made welding machine with bandage covered wires can made dipped in sewer water way. Jesus made the food written in the bible in the tent which was dark the same way now u have known how to make the same and with the crippled changed their body parts like Mr Hindu, Bangladesh or Colombians do, but Hindu are tiny people but with Christ he was huge to solve the puzzle above

Innoson motors parading their fleet of vehicles now in Cameroon heading further East, check their website 4 more like in the link below

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1946103208859220&set=gm.865483597303487&type=3&theater&ifg=1

The black round pipe that pass a cross a small stream that drain water into lake Victoria carries the very make u insane water from bar kalare but am told they got now the technology to dig across the earth from below as debris fall off rather than on top like with wells where u got to remove debris at every ft that hinders the same, so will capitalize on that and close the CDC altogether in the eyes on those who know not, so u’d rather get to bellow and cut those pipes as some water sources as rivers the way oil is looped they have looped water from big reservoir like Tanganyika to channel it to some river sources like Nzoia cheating people they are permanent rather seasonal but just beefed up with gold piped water from Lake Tanganyika and more dude

Many leave in big houses as 4 security reasons as it has like 10-15 bedrooms so u change where u sleep every night without letting ya wife know, u just ambush her, cause many can fire into ya room or send a mini-missile to kill ya, so by changing u can escape bro, king of the jew to bring out reality, when u live in search it makes ya chances of getting to hell minimal than those who live in small houses withing the town and not far a part as the former case, Thats why u wonder why people live in extra-large houses and that’s the answer bro like in the link below

https://www.primelocation.com/overseas/property/united-states/california/

Even in movies the devil gives u that movie like with PS4 games, u and with those who featured of exact images and cities streets and building as in their form as well as the above same voices, so never be cheated bro, its gimmicks, same way machines and artificial foods are made they same way above

The devil can give u a grenade, the test u how u will use it to give u further more, by the canister serial no, so its a test if u have managed even to make 1, so be prudent so it gives ya more other sophisticated machines more than above as well with ya pride which he wants not and disrespect, instead can give ya not all that sophisticated like mentioned above bro, so take heed and desist the bad

If u find a heap on a land or slightly elevated if u shit their, it grants u longevity and youngness of face, no kidding bro, pure truth dude, try, reasons why others live long and we know not but trying others which work out not. SELDOM APPLE leaves rejuvenates ya mind as directs ya the bad and the good like if u drink much juice shortens ya life or u should not go to that land or go to that 1 or with women as 1 good or the other bad and push ya lower jaw more in-front than the place it was and eradicate ya tongue of much sweet foods as removes ya from much succulent foods to make ya want plain foods, put ya to work and wanting disturbance not, the utility bro.

The military tank main gun where the mini-missile can get to to kill ya by detonating the missiles inside the tanker can be made in a such a way it closes lest u want to aim to shoot b4 again it closes to avoid the above as a precaution measure.

Many have invested in Big dogs in many African nations to make ready cash as whites or Arabs who get this cash online hire such to pay the women who sleeps with these dogs and the owners, anyway it elevates poverty among these women and dog owners as their government don’t care about them, must hustle to get money as the lesson gotten if u never know dude

With people making detonatives like grenades many not just 1 then this a must 4 you and its a new way of making money to the same people who makes the above cause as well they know how to make the later.

Tire and sidion or Sodom and gomora, the reason why God sent fire from above to consume the city was the fact that hell was in those lands and the had machinery to cut across the land from above to beneath, so were trying to reach hell and were warned, as to overpower God until the above was done if u never know, Wichita was tire, Topeka was sidion, Colorado springs was gommora while Denver was sodom, if u tour the city u will see burnt sandy left big lands.

Angel Gabriel Told By God to talk to A luo who had died but had a hell ticket as wanted to appeal as wait 4 more people of his lives to die to come and give their act of what happen yet it was long overdue as all who knew him had passed the same so no more witness and furnace was handy. ‘Nyon dho gwog no odhikucho, odonje mach” as the same has been forwarded to kebi in his Fb page b4 doing the same to me. In Judgement any language is spoken u want, God and his people understands and speak every world dialect so never think u r left out, dude, u belong big time

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softly-savage-mint-yoongi · 5 years

Photo

Moonchild

Genre: Fantasy/Magic AU! Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Part 2 Previous

The sound of a wolf howling makes your eyes snap open. Somehow, the sound is familiar to screaming and it leaves you with chills.

You’re in a forest full of towering trees and a canopy so thick you can barely see the moonlight filtering through. The wolf howls again. The feet beneath you are acting on their own and suddenly you’re running desperately towards the sound. As you draw closer, a smell not unlike smoke reaches your nose. It fills your lungs thicker with every heaving inhale.

The ground quakes gently with the following cry of pain from the wolf. You’re close, and when you see the bright light of the moon ahead in the trees you know that’s where it is. You stop a few feet short of the treeline, still comfortable in the shrouded darkness.

There’s a small clearing, perfectly circular. Standing in the dead center is the very same wolf you’ve been seeing. Even with its head hung low, its hackles raised in pain, it has a large body and an even larger presence. It is commanding and strong.

Beneath its paws is a black haze, akin to thick smoke. The tendrils of it unfurl and roll back in slow, lazy patters and you can feel a thrumming from it like a beating heart. The wolf flinches and shakes its head, eyes scrunching closed.

The tempo of the blackness increases to a restless gallop and the wolf shifts from paw to paw as if the very earth scorches where it stands on the crusted dirt. It whimpers as the tendrils flow with unchecked power, raw and hungry. Suddenly, the ground shakes and it cries out in a sharp howl and the haze beneath him grows so rapidly that you step back a few paces subconsciously.

The stench of smoke drowns your olfactory senses once more and it hurts to breath in. The blackness stretches out in a perfect circle until everything up to the edges of the clearing are engulfed in it. The wolf remains unharmed at its center.

Once the haze recedes you realize that this clearing was made by the wolf and the power of pure destruction it wields. The wolf remains untouched by death. You finally notice the lack of grass where the clearing is and the cracked earth that looks bone dry. There is a glittering of ash in the air and on the wolf’s back as it catches the moonlight and you can’t help but consider that it is beautiful.

Whimpering draws your attention back to it where it stands. The wolf is panting heavily with exertion, weak as it wobbles from side to side. The black haze is back to a calm, weaker, beat, small tendrils seeping slowly out from beneath massive black paws. A strong growl tears from its throat. You raise your eyes to meet its gaze, expecting to see a threat there. Instead, you choke on your own surprise at the unabashed torment radiating from behind those eyes.

The intense pain you feel from it shakes you to the core. You wake with a jolt, a sob wrecking its way up your dry throat as you feel the tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

You rise, too wound up to continue your fitful night’s sleep. Looking around you notice a piece of paper is stuck to the door with a small skinning knife. Taehyung is sprawled on his back in front of the hearth, his whiskers, tail and an occasional paw twitching as he dreams. The lazy flames look warm and inviting after the cold, dark nightmare, and you wish you were still tired enough to cuddle up with the tiger on the floor and go back to sleep.

You know you need to bathe. You can feel the grime and build up from not having a proper bath as it sits on your skin and in your hair. You know someone wiped you down with a clean cloth and water during your time of bed rest. You realize it was more practical that Namjoon was the one who cared for you during all of it, and the thought of the attractive man doing something like that leaves your skin with a warm, gentle flush momentarily before your nightmare’s affects continue to make you shiver.

Shaking your head, you leave the warm bed, curiosity of the notes contents leading you to it.

‘I’ll be back by mid morning. Hoseok has taken it upon himself to care for you in my absence if you need anything. -Namjoon’

As nice as the note sounds, you believe only Taehyung is here right now. Your eyes automatically flick to the shelves in search of the observant Leopard cat, only to find them all empty. You decide to go outside for some fresh air and perhaps you’ll find the deer.

Stepping through the doorway, the crisp night air soothes your lungs as you breathe deeply. Even though it was only a dream, you feel as though clearing the smoke you inhaled does wonders for you. When you’re finished with your breathing exercises, you notice Yoongi.

The small cat is sitting just outside the door on a stump, paw raised and curled over his ear, tiny pink tongue sticking out as he froze. It appears you were not the only one with a bath on your mind.

“Good morning.” you greet.

The cat eyes you wearily but bows his head and returns the greeting in a small chittering before Hoseok is suddenly there, rounding the side of the house and blinking at you blearily.

“Good morning.” you say to him, hand automatically reaching out to rub his head. He strides closer to welcome the contact and watches your face with a patient expression. Yoongi jumps onto his back and brushes himself against the deer’s neck, leaning heavily on him. You can’t help but think of it as an act of jealousy for attention from the deer.

“Oh. Hobi, where can I go to bathe and wash my clothes?” you ask.

He walks forward, nudging his way past the door and into the house. You follow close behind, watching amused as Yoongi leaps off his back and onto the floor before sauntering to the empty bed and making himself at home within the mess of blankets.

The deer pulls a large towel off the arm of the chair and throws it over his own back. You watch as he gently nudges a pile of neatly folded cloths and plucks one from the middle, slinging it to join the larger one draped across himself.

He crosses the room to a small set of drawers near the bed and opens the top drawer with his teeth before turning to you and waiting. When you peer inside, there are small pucks that look like water stones, all smooth edges of varying oval shapes and different colors. A mixture of both floral scents and heavy wood scents wafts up to you and you realize that they’re soaps.

You can’t help the smile gracing your lips and the light flutter of warmth in your gut as you pluck one and inhale the light floral fragrance. There are flecks of what appears to be jasmine petals stuck inside. It calms your anxiety, a little less jumpy from the nightmare.

Hoseok uses his nose to shut the drawer and you two leave the house. A small pang of guilt pulls at you knowing how sleepy the typically energized deer seems to be.

You’ve been walking for quite a few minutes through thick canopy before you come to a body of water. It actually glows a deep blue as the bright light of the night sky reflects on its surface. A twisted Oak tree sits just on the edge of the bank with low branches that curl naturally over the top of the water.

Hoseok takes the smaller cloth from his back and pushes it into your hand, followed by the larger towel which he flings over a low branch with practices ease.

You watch him for a moment before your cheeks turn pink, realizing he is waiting for you to strip.

“You might be a deer right now but you’re still a man. Stop staring and turn around.” you say, flushing deeper scarlet.

A noise escapes him. One you’ve come to know as his laugh as he turns his back to you and stomps halfheartedly into the packed dirt.

Your eyes watch him for a moment longer. Glancing around the edges of the water, you make sure nobody is watching you before you pull your clothes off.

Hoseok’s ears jerk and move as he listens to you wading into the water. Only when you call for him does he turn around.

Immediately you take advantage of the low branch of tree that dips close to the water. You scrub the soap at your clothes and push them to hang over the branch in the water. There’s a faint current and you hum in satisfaction at the feel of your skin getting the love it needs while you scrub yourself with the soap with your slowly disappearing soap.

Hoseok still appears to be half asleep, and you watch him fondly as he curls up against the trunk of the tree and closes his eyes.

Time rolls by slowly as you relish the joy of a good bath and let the water pull away the anxiety and plagued thoughts with its gentle current. It feels incredible and before long you feel light as a feather, happily relaxed into a subspace that feels almost like you’re a little tiny bit tipsy. You don’t notice that the waters color glows a faint peach where it touches you and the color bleeds with the current, fading back to a natural blue.

You hear something, head whipping you back to Hoseok who is still unmoving as he naps beneath the tree. There is the sound of water being broken on the other side of the large Oak, and whatever it may be is obstructed from view.

Defensively, you crouch down into the water, only your head visible from the nose up. You don’t dare move as the sound continues and from the other side of the tree you see Namjoon wading slowly through the water.

His arms are extended at his sides, fingers splayed out as the pads of them softly disturb the surface where he drags them. You still have enough focus to notice the discoloration of his hands and forearms. The deepest black color at his fingertips and it lightens in shade as it works up to his elbows. It’s hard to see clearly, but you think there might also be flecks of silver on his hands. You think they’re magnificent.

Your eyes follow the color of his arms up, unobstructed until you realize he is naked save for the thin chain of silver around his neck as it hangs low between his pectorals. Your entire body instantly flushes, a powerful and pleasant thrill rolling languidly down your spine when you see his torso. You shake off the thought and watch him silently as his toned figure dips down and he disappears beneath the water.

He emerges a few seconds later up to his ribs, hands raking through his hair and across his face. Your heart pounds loudly in your ears and he turns, eyes landing directly on yours. They’re shining a iridescent purple.

It is then that you see with great confusion the way the water bleeds a pinkish color toward him from where you’re standing, and a dusty purple from where he stands.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but no words that come to mind seem like the right ones. Instead, you just move to leave, wading toward the bank and covering your breasts with an arm before you rise up to take the towel from the branch.

The intensity in his eyes stills you, “No, please...” he says quickly, his beautiful hands sunk under the surface. You still, sinking back to settle beneath the surface.

“Can we talk?” he asks from his place, turning toward you and taking a single step before stopping to wait for your answer. “Would that make you uncomfortable?” he realizes, head cocking to the side.

“Okay.” you say with a slight slur. Your senses are beginning to drift off a little more. The rational side of you is wary of another shut out, but that side seems to have taken a backseat for the moment. You have a strange feeling that this water is more than just water and the longer you soak in it, the farther and farther you feel yourself drifting.

Thankfully it is high enough to cover most of you. Only the very peak of the valley between your breasts is visible above the colored surface.

When Namjoon smiles and approaches you, he directly avoids looking at you, standing a respectable six feet away and face turned to the moon above. Your attention is captured by the low hanging moonstone pendant between his pectorals.

“I’m sorry.” he says lowly, fingers running through the surface of the water back and forth.

When you don’t speak, he chances a look and your eyes meet. The color and feel of them settling on you takes you back to the nightmare. The wolf’s torture reflecting back at you for real, and the strong lurch of their weight springs tears of emotion that spill quietly down your cheeks.

Namjoon’s hand jerks to a halt as it reaches for you, and you’re smart enough to have figured out why he can’t touch you. Why he won’t.

The colors of the water shift around you both, mixing into a beautiful swirl of richly colored blues and greens that bleed downstream with the current that carries them.

He doesn’t do anything more than smile gently at you, watching as you take a few moments to dry your eyes. You are distracted by the way the color surrounding his form shifts from that clover green to a calming periwinkle.

It is when you look back up to smile at him do you notice he isn’t beside you anymore. You catch the glinting of the moonstone pendant as it swings away from his chest with the force of his jump toward the higher branch of the twisted tree on the bank.

While you became increasingly less aware of your surroundings, you also forgot your clothes needed to be hung to dry. Namjoon is carefully plucking each piece from their place and wringing them out before snapping them out and jumping just enough to throw them over one side of the higher branch to dry.

Every emotion that manifests inside of you is intense, growing more so with every minute longer you stay in the water. The same goes for even the heady tingling of something exciting as you watch the muscles of his arms and back work to twist every drop of water from your clothes. The excitement increases with every jump he does to hang them up, the top of his backside visible for a split second with each stretch.

Your head feels like it’s pounding with the whiplash of emotions layering one after another that come and go, and you’re pretty certain this water has made you drunk on something. You knew you were emotional when you drank, but the intensity of the emotions flooding through you has never been this bad.

When he finishes and turns to you, the smile he is wearing is sheepish. As you stand there slack-jawed and staring, it turns into a devilish smirk with each step closer he takes.

“Do you like what you see?” he asks boldly, fingers playing in the now bright pink water surrounding you.

You’re unable to control how loose you feel as your tongue rolls out a reply. “You’re beautiful.” you say.

The smirk on the older man’s face is wiped away by your statement and his eyes are on your face, searching for something.

You watch closely, reading the several emotions that come and go across his handsome features. The silence between you makes the sound of crickets seem deafening.

You wanted to sort out this dream for yourself before telling him about it, but your tongue goes off forming words again without your consent, “I dreamed about you.” you start. The eye contact is broken as you look down at the water, twirling your fingers across its lavender surface.

He waits patiently for you to continue, “You were a wolf, and you were in...” you trail off, swallowing thickly to wet your dry throat.

“You were unable to control the power that flows from your hands.” you restart. Your head won’t lift to meet his gaze as you continue.

“It looked like it burned you and you were howling in such a way that it sounded like screaming.” Your fingers still play absentmindedly with the color changing water as it fades from purple to blue around him.

“That power was terrifying and I couldn’t do anything as I watched it envelop everything around you. When the flare of it was over you were weak and you looked at me, and-” you start, shaking your head.

You feel like you might cry, and you have you swallow the lump burning your throat, “Namjoon the pain in your eyes was so intense. I felt all of the torment behind them. I don’t know why, but I-” you say, disrupted by a drop into the water between you.

When you look up to his face you’re surprised and hurt all over again to see tears quietly rolling down his full cheeks and his lavender irises once again locked on the moon overhead.

Reaching up to brush away his tears, you stop, “Can I touch you?” you whisper gently.

His throat catches, adams apple bobbing and his voice cracks as he answers after a pause, “I don’t know.”

The sadness and uncertainty of his answer is not lost on you, but the understanding in your expressions gives him a moment to catch his breath and swallow.

“May I try?” you coax.

Namjoon searches for something in your face again, and he must find whatever he was looking for, because he lets you.

“Just not here.” He says, gesturing as he drags both of his arms out and away from you before holding them out at his sides above the water.

You’re sure to give him your best smile and move slowly. You’re unashamed about the exposure of your chest above the water as you reach up and step closer. The rational you feel like this is all happening too fast, but to the drunk you, it feels bold but right in this moment. His eyelids slide shut and he doesn’t make any moves to spoil it.

You’re sure to be as considerate as possible when your hands rest on his full cheeks and your thumbs brush away the tears clinging to his lashes. You don’t miss the soft sigh that escapes him at human touch. You try but know you cannot begin to fathom how long it has been since he has experienced any human contact. It clenches your heart desperately.

“It’s okay.” you whisper to him. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips with your tender encouragement.

Eyebrows pinching together, you’re not sure if the pair of eyes staring back at you from the bank are real or not. Namjoon can feel your arms freeze where they brush his face and chest and his ears for sure pick up the sharp inhale of breath.

His eyes snap open and it’s as though his senses become less foggy, grounding him back on earth. His body twists to the side to follow you gaze to the fox sitting on the riverbank expectantly.

You still feel the heavy haze of being drunk but you are somewhat aware that the growl ripping from his throat should not sound arousing, nor should the feel of it as it rumbled his chest against your arms. Namjoon quickly steps into you fully to prevent the fox from seeing your naked form. The feel of his chest flush with yours causes a whine to pass over your parted lips.

He catches the sound and he takes a deep breath before stepping away from you in panic. “Fucking hell.” he breathes, turning to stalk as quickly as possible out of the water. The last thirty seconds leave your skin flushing hot and prickling cold all at once.

He turns to you before he leaves the water, “If you’re done bathing you should get out. This river is a magic sponge.” His voice is gruff and sullen. Namjoon doesn’t care that he is naked as he walks out of the water and disappears around the tree.

“Wait!” You call after him, the tugging in your chest urging you to follow. You grab the towel waiting for you on the branch and give the fox beside you a glare. It turns around as you climb out in your state of indecency.

Namjoon comes back a moment later wearing nothing more than a towel tied precariously around his hips. His clothes are folded in a neat stack and he shoves them at you quickly to avoid touching you with his bare hands.

“Please put these on.” he asks in a softer tone, refusing to look at you.

Hoseok looks between the both of you, blinking the sleep from his eyes. The fox watches with glittering amusement in his.

“Thank you.” You say after you’ve surrendered, expression dropping when you see your own clothes are still dripping into the river below from their hanging spot. You clutch your towel tighter around your body.

Namjoon and the fox exchange glances. Your head feels much clearer and you cough, “Um, could you please turn around?” you ask, feeling suddenly sheepish after all of the skin-ship you just shared.

Namjoon flushes and looks petulantly at the fox, “Seokjin, please.”

The fox appears to roll its eyes before it turns and a small black hole appears beside it, just large enough for the fox to jump through, vanishing completely.

You would normally be shocked by now, but somehow you’re more tired than anything as your lack of sleep and the emotions of the last hour catches up with you, “That was Seokjin?” you ask.

Namjoon nods his head, turning around to give you some privacy and running his hands through his hair, pushing his bangs up off of his forehead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you get out earlier. I didn’t realize how...” he trails off as he stands with his back to you, carefully working his wrappings back around each hand and arm.

“No. Do not be sorry, just be honest.” You say in reply. You’re not going to sit here and let him think that was a mistake. You can still feel something pulling you toward him. You’ve been able to feel it this whole time. The water only helped it along, and you don’t regret it.

Namjoon turns to you slowly, peering over his shoulder to make sure you’re decent. You’re standing still, staring right back at him, his shirt long enough to cover your thighs as you offer him back his pants so he has something to cover himself with decently.

He tries to defy you, opening his mouth with a stern expression before he shuts it and huffs, looking at the ground for a moment. Instead, he whispers, “Okay.” and just smiles at the certainty and resolution in your stare. In his honesty you can’t help but feel the heat that reaches his eyes as they drop to your exposed legs and you can see the way his plush lower lip curls into his mouth between his teeth.

You can feel your cheeks go scarlet and you flounder for an excuse to get out of embarrassment. “Hoseok!” you nearly screech, shooting the bewildered deer a look and stalking off into the forest, “Lets go!”

Namjoon’s laughter behind you is loud and boisterous and a smile works its way over your lips as you walk away from him and the river. One last glance over your shoulder reveals him securing his pants and shaking his head, dimples in his cheeks as he smiles.

You heart pulls in you chest. Once again, with the beginnings of dawn enveloping the sky from the other side of the river, you are in awe of his beauty as the rays of early morning light catch his golden skin.

____________________________________

Once you’re fully dressed, the sun risen completely and Namjoon has returned to happily make breakfast for you both, you bask in the content of the moment. Today, you’re going to start learning your own Magic.

“Today we aren’t going to try to cast any magic.” he says as he joins you beside the fire pit. You had been smiling as you watched the embers slowly die, but it is replaced with a frown at his words.

Looking up at him, you feel a bit childish when you whine, “Why not?”

Namjoon’s dimples appear and his eyes turn into crescents as he smiles and shakes his head at you, “Because, all of your magic got sucked up by the Seponji. If you tried to cast Magic now it would be harmful to you.” You don’t miss the gentle way he says the last phrase with a worried crease in his brow.

“Well it isn’t my fault Hoseok thought it would be a good idea for me to take a bath in that water.” you say, shooting the deer in question a false glare when he stops what he’s doing to look at you, eyes burning with betrayal.

“Don’t worry, it will come back. It just takes time, and you need to learn what you’re doing before you go haphazardly casting Magic and wrecking havoc.” Namjoon says, nudging you with his foot before turning to walk back toward the house.

“Fine.” you sigh, rolling off of the hammock and quickly taking a few wide strides to match his pace. “So what are you going to teach me today?” Your hands fold behind you as you bend to peer at his face in your curiosity.

“I’m not going to teach you anything, but learning some Magic text will do you good.” he comments, opening the door and holding it for you.

You did love to read, and Namjoon is pleasantly surprised and all the more endeared with your sudden excitement about getting to read some ancient Magic texts. In your outburst of joy, you miss all of the ways he quickly tries to quell his rapidly-growing fondness for you.

You pick a stool and sit at the table as he instructs, pointing to different books and scrolls that you need to read.

“Can’t I just read all of it?” you ask with pleading eyes. Namjoon just blinks at you with wide eyes.

There’s that pulling in your heart when Namjoon can’t form words. He seems disbelieving but amazed, stunned into silence at your question.

Finally, he breathes out, “Yes.” The sound of glee you make in response hits his ears and drowns out the loud beating of his heart thundering against his ribs.

Getting comfortable on the high stool, you pick up one of the books and open it to rest the spine in the palm of your hand, enjoying the weight and the smell of it. You sit this way, as if time itself is standing still while you absorb what is written.

Occasionally, you use your index finger to hold your place and ask Namjoon a question. He comes to the table, standing behind you to read over your shoulder and help answer what you’re referencing.

A comfortable silence has stretched over the house while you read. Loud enough to make you look up in embarrassment, your stomach objects the silence with a loud growl, making the Warlock turn his attention to you, “Someone is getting hungry.”

"I can help if you would like?" you suggest, but Namjoon puts his hand up.

“No. You need to read. I’ll just be outside.” he says with a big yawn, stretching high. Of their own accord, your eyes greedily scan over the abdominals peeking out from his shirt as he reaches high above his head. Namjoon’s cheeks are tinged pink when he comes back to a normal position. He knows what he is doing, and he knows he is distracting you from absorbing much knowledge.

_____________________________________

After a fantastically filling meal, you settle back into your studies with a large scroll all about Magic Affinities. The tall male you’re cohabitating with sits on a lower chair and picks up his own book. From his pocket he pulls small piece of leather folded over a pair of glasses before placing them neatly over the bridge of his nose.

You smile at him warmly before turning back to your own search for knowledge, and it isn’t long before you notice the repetitive nodding of his head every few minutes. His eyes look tired and you understand that the Seponji must have taken quite a lot of his own Magic, too.

“Namjoon?” you ask softly. Curling around a scroll, your fingers twitch with the want to reach out and stroke his cheek or run your fingers over his hair to rouse him. Before you can give into the temptation, he is peering at you from over the book in his loose grasp with tired eyes.

A small laugh works its way from your lips as you ask, “Are you alright? Why don’t you go lay down?”

The spine of the book instantly smacks the table in his immediate agreement. He whips the glasses off of his nose before folding them back into their leather pocket and setting it on the table. Namjoon hums and smiles at you, carefully placing the old woven bookmark between the pages. He closes it and smooths his palm across the cover lovingly before turning back to you, “I’m normally asleep at this hour.” he admits.

The look on your face must mirror your shock and he has enough energy to tell you without having you ask.

“I’m on a nocturnal schedule. Moon Warlock and all.” he says with a fluttering of his fingers in the air and smirk that emphasizes the dashing flare of his Magic. It makes the blood in your veins sink to your center.

“Goodnight.” you say before any other exchanges can be had to distract you. Especially after this morning, you can nearly still smell his natural scent and feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The memory of it all easily makes you flustered and frustrated.

Namjoon is asleep in less than ten minutes. Everything is fairly quiet and you find yourself fighting the sagging of your own eyelids before another hour has passed.

Then, it is with a sudden chill that you startle, jumping out of your skin. Above you, Namjoon lets out a surprised noise. You’re very comfortable but confused as you blink away some sleepiness to take in your situation. You were very certain you fell asleep while reading.

Namjoon has wrapped a large blanket around you and you’re being carried toward the bed. He must have picked you up, and although it is very nice, it is also alarming and you struggle to free yourself.

“Namjoon what are y-” is all your froggy throat can manage when he cuts you off.

His voice is equally unused when he whispers, “Please. Just let me do this.” He is resolute in his determination not to meet your eyes until he carefully sets you down among the linens.

You’re thankful for the large blanket wrapped around you as you bury your face in it, hiding the pink of your cheeks to him. He still looks tired, but you’re not sure how long he slept. The sun has begun to set so you can conclude it has been a few hours.

“You still need to sleep. You look tired.” you say, gauging why he brought you to the bed if he still needed it. More internal debates happen and Namjoon has to stifle a chuckle as he watches you battle with yourself.

“I’m used to getting up at this time so my internal clock woke me up. Besides,” he begins with a frown, “You shouldn’t be falling asleep on a stool and drooling all over my scrolls.”

You blanche immediately and the reaction has him rolling with loud laughter. “I do not drool!” you screech. Even you flinch at the sound of your own voice.

It takes him a moment to collect himself, feigning to wipe a tear from his eye. “I’m only kidding.”

There’s a pregnant pause where you’re not quite sleepy enough anymore to immediately forget the world and where Namjoon doesn’t want to remove himself from the foot of the bed.

“Hey.” you call his attention quietly. He had begun mulling something difficult over in his head, that much you could tell. It was too painful to watch the frustration on his face, fists balled into the sheets.

The lines across his forehead instantly relaxes at your attention. “How could you carry me over here if you never want to touch me?” you ask.

You’re too tired to deal with beating around the bush right now and you’re not sure if the alarm written on his face is because of your bold question or general surprise at the content of this conversation topic.

In the time it takes Namjoon to answer, you study him. The way his hair falls over his forehead, and the way his plush bottom lip curls in and he flattens his chin while he thinks. The beauty marks in his skin, your favorite already being the one on his chin.

He sighs heavily, nodding as he turns to you fully, “My Magic... this curse. It only affects two things. One is the living. Any,” he says with emphasis, “Living thing. Including plants and the earth itself. However, it only works if I’m touching it directly.”

He trails off with pink cheeks and averted eyes, fiddling with a stray thread on his pant leg, “So, I was able to pick you up because of this.” he mutters with a tug to the corner of the blanket.

“These wrappings were made with Magic. They help greatly to temper the output and let me control it mostly. There’s still always a chance though...” his voice gets quieter until it stops and his brow furrows deeply again.

One deep breath and he moves on, “The second requirement is that whatever is affected by me has to be solid. So it doesn’t work in water.” His eyes are calm with the storm having passed.

The Warlock before you notices you nodding, and in his pause you query, “Is that why your hands were not wrapped in the Seponji?”

Namjoon is oddly tight-lipped, the bob of his head your only confirmation. It suddenly dawns on you that he is nervous. You saw them.

“I think they’re captivating.” you say honestly.

“You mean devastating.” he corrects promptly, and you kick him in the thigh from your cocoon. “No, I like them a lot.”

His bashful smile reaches his eyes this time at your compliment, “Ah, well your honesty is refreshing. Thank you."

“Speaking of Seponji...” you cough and it is your turn to avert your eyes, “Can you tell me what the hell that is all about? I’ve never heard of any Magical bodies of water, anywhere.” you say.

Namjoon’s cheeks are as pink as yours, remembering the drunken haze and shared skin-ship from your bath. “Ah,” he begins before a laugh passes his lips and he runs a hand through his hair, “That is because Seokjin made it for me. That water is made to suck up Magic. Since my power is so difficult to control, he aligned the right stars to bless that river and give it Magic. Or really, a portion of it. Just a mile's worth.” he says simply.

You don’t know anything about Seokjin the fox other than the fact that he in indeed a Warlock trapped in a fox’s body.

He continues, “The downside with any leeching type of Magic is that it distorts your consciousness. It makes you feel like you’ve been drinking depending on how much Magic it takes from you. It also amplifies emotions, which is why the color changes based on emotions. It is a visual tool.” he confirms, fingers playing absentmindedly at the hair beginning to grow on his jawline.

“I thought it was something like that, considering...” you reply, trailing off to smile at your own recollection.

“So, hypothetically speaking, what would happen if someone else touched your hands? Does it have to be you initiating for your power to work or does it not matter?” The curiosity has gotten the best of you, but Namjoon seems to be calm enough to give you answers for the moment.

“Ah, no, it doesn’t matter. If someone touches my hands they will die.” he says with a sullen expression.

You feel sad for him but also a little mischievous, “But someone could touch other parts of you and live, like I did.” you say.

He nods quietly until you continue, “And you could touch someone with anything other than your hands.”

Namjoon’s head snaps to attention at your logic and his eyes slowly widen, mouth parting.

You’re both surveying the other openly and the man in front of you takes a massive gulp of air, licking his lips while staring at yours.

You can’t help the yawn that breaks from your throat. It serves to break the tension for the moment, “You should lay back down if you’re tired.” he says quietly, averting his eyes.

“Can I get on a nocturnal schedule, too?” you inquire. You’re being genuine and the returning smile Namjoon gives you makes your heart flutter softly.

“As flattering as that is, for now I think it is best if we have opposing sleep schedules. Unless you want your own bed, in which case I can bu-” he begins but you cut him off quickly with firm disapproval. Neither of you deny the insinuation that you’ll hopefully share the same bed someday.

“I can’t go having any nightmares with you sleeping right beside me. What if I accidentally kill you? These wrappings help and my Magic is definitely weaker during the day when I sleep, but that’s still a potential possibility I am not willing to risk.” he explains.

You nod, settling back into the pillows, “But what if you don’t have any nightmares?”

Namjoon knows you’re playing to rile him up now, sucking in sharply through his teeth. Just as quickly as you would expect of his wolfish reflexes, he is hovering over you.

He smirks at you and dips his head into your neck, close enough to feel his warm breath. You close your eyes and wait for something, anything. You’ve never been one very interested in these sorts of activities, but this man has you willing to do whatever it takes if he will just touch you.

All he does is bring his face back to yours. The apples of his cheeks are bright as he commits to memory the look of pure desire written across your face. You’re watching him in return, enraptured with the pretty color of his natural eyes. It is now you notice there are flecks of honey color in the deep brown.

He quickly brings his forehead to press into yours, his breath fanning across your face, “This is so frustrating.” he whispers with a smile, eyes closed. His voice sounds hoarse even through the light tone. Instead of kissing you like you wanted, he nudges his nose into yours before sitting up entirely and running a hand through his hair.

Perfectly timed as if he was not waiting just outside the door and could hear everything, Hoseok pushes the front door open, head peering inside. Yoongi is sitting on his head, and you could swear that his expression is that of judgement.

Taehyung and the latest member, Seokjin accompany Hoseok into the house. Both you and Namjoon are a little melancholy about everything, but try to smile at the group as you give each other some distance. Hoseok notices your mood and immediately comes to comfort you by laying his head across the bed to look at you cutely.

Yoongi jumps off of his head and crosses the bed to lay in Namjoon’s lap while Taehyung nudges himself along Namjoon’s legs as they hang over the edge of the bed, purring loudly.

It takes great effort but you manage to pull your arm free of the blankets to scratch Hoseok behind the ears.

” I wish I could talk to you.” you convey to the deer. He nuzzles deeper into your palm to state his agreement.

Namjoon immediately gets up, setting Yoongi down on the floor. Everyone watches momentarily as he plucks a book and a series of scrolls from a shelf before returning and planting them at the foot of the bed for you.

“You can learn. Hoseok can help you.” he clarifies, gesturing to the pile of notes. You thank him, sitting up to take one of the scrolls in your hand and get started.

Taehyung makes a sound of disapproval and whines at Namjoon. There’s a brief pause.

“That’s not polite, Yoongi hyung.” he declares, eyeing the leopard cat. In one motion Namjoon scoops him up off the floor and Yoongi tolerates him playing with his toe beans. You silently observe the cat, who begins to purr loudly and relax the longer Namjoon holds his tiny paws.

“But you didn’t speak to him, did you?” you ask.

Namjoon looks at you with wild eyes for a moment, having to think back to what just transpired. Apparently he didn’t even realize, as he says, “Oh, Yoongi is telepathic, so I don’t have to speak to him to hear him.”

It is interesting to hear such a thing, although things get more and more strange every day you’re with these Warlocks.

“So why can’t I ever hear him?” you ask curiously.

Yoongi replies for himself in your head, “Because I don’t have anything to say to you.”

Ouch. Harsh, but he isn’t wrong. You shrug, “Fair enough.”

Taehyung looks all the more distraught at you getting to speak with anyone other than Namjoon before himself.

You laugh at his clear distress, “Don’t worry Tae, I’ll still learn it so I can talk to you.” The tiger in question shoves Hoseok in the rear until he nearly kicks him in the face and moves, clambering up on the bed beside you.

Taehyung replaces him at the side of the bed, purring loudly and clearly looking for your attention as you scratch him with both hands.

The fox makes a pointed swish of his tail in the silence that ensues, capturing the attention of the human forms among the party.

“Ah, yes. This is Seokjin. You two uh...” Namjoon begins, scratching at his chin before laughing, “You met earlier.”

“The fox who can align the stars themselves. What incredible Magic.” you muse, more to yourself, but the fox bows regally at your praise anyway.

“Jin is royalty, so you’ll have to forgive his extravagant everything.” Namjoon says with mirth in his voice.

Seokjin snaps his attention to Namjoon and his eyes go wide as if he has some complaint in reply. The exchange is cute, nonetheless.

Just as things are settling again, there’s a singing from the other side of the door, accompanied by a rapid low thumping.

“They’re back already, that was fast.” Namjoon comments to the room, setting Yoongi on the bed to answer the door.

The moment there is enough open space a small yellow bird and a brown rabbit are bolting and buzzing into the house and right up to you.

”Guys, don’t crowd her, please.” Namjoon’s stern voice commands, and the two back off and calm down. The bird nestles into the top of the tiger’s head, who looks up at him with an adoring expression. The rabbit stays beside Yoongi on the bed, raised on his hind legs with ears back.

“Who are they?” you ask.

Namjoon’s chest appears to swell as he counts them all, making sure each of his friends are here before answering you.

“I suppose now is the best time to introduce you. I’m assuming you want to know everyone’s Magic?” he says pointedly, laughing at your sheepish nodding and clapping hands.

“It’s alright.” He assures, “I know you're curious, so I already asked.”

“Well,” he starts, pointing to Hoseok, “You already know that hyung and what his Magic is. Same goes for this one.”

His fingers gently tap Taehyung on the back as he says it. They move to point to at Seokjin, “This is the eldest, Seokjin. His Magic is Celestial. Very powerful, special Magic. He can tell you about it later.” Namjoon says quickly as the fox begins to take what he assumes is center stage for a demonstration.

You laugh at his clearly appalled expression.

The handsome man continues pointing his fingers towards his friends, pausing briefly on Yoongi, “Yoongi hyung is second oldest. His Magic is Wisdom. Sounds different, but is actually very versatile. He has Foresight, Fortunes and Telepathy all within his grasp.” The cat looks at you plainly before moving to Hoseok and stepping between his front legs to lay down.

“The newest additions,” Namjoon continues his speech, “Are Jimin, possessor of Heaven Magic, or in some realms, Sky Magic. He is Blessed and has the ability to Shape shift.”

The little yellow bird sings a happy tune and opens his beak so wide to mimic a smile his eyes close into crescents. You're immediately endeared with him.

“And Jungkook, the maknae. His Magic is Elemental, with a high affinity for fire. As a hare, although not quite part of his Magic, grants him incredible speed.”

The young rabbit looks at you curiously still, only startling away when you reach out a hand too quickly and he jumps from the bed.

For a moment you look upset until Namjoon steps in and settles your worries, “It’s okay. He is very shy, he will warm up don’t worry. He's actually quite excited to meet you.”

You smile in return at the rabbit as it peeks from behind Namjoon’s legs with both ears raised, nose and whiskers twitching. A few beats of silence passes where nobody seems to know what to do. Eventually, Namjoon just laughs and shakes his head. When you look up at him with a questioning stare he finally moves.

“Please excuse us, as we have to have a small meeting now that they’ve returned. Hoseok can stay here with you and study if you like?” he asks.

Nodding your head in response, you untie the string holding the scroll closed before rolling it open across your lap. The remaining five anthropomorphic beings follow their leader toward the door, who gives you one last parting smile before he closes it quietly behind him.

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lastbluetardis · 5 years

Text

We Sing Joy

On the eighth day of Ficmas, my true love gave to me… the prompt “joy”. @doctorroseprompts

Ten x Rose, ~1700 words, teen, pregnancy warning

Rose gives the Doctor the best Christmas gift he’s ever received.

AO3

As usual, the Doctor awoke first. A nest of tangled blonde hair greeted him, and he couldn’t help the fond little smile that crossed his lips. No matter where they started sleeping the night before, inevitably they migrated to the center of the mattress. He nearly always awoke to some part of his body touching his wife’s.

He let out a content sigh and scooted closer to her. He groaned when his body curled around hers and his bare chest came into contact with her bare back. Pleasant goosebumps rippled over his skin as he wrapped his arm around her waist and hugged her tightly to him.

Even after fifteen years of marriage, the simple joy of holding his wife never failed to amaze him. He tucked his nose into the crook of her neck as he nuzzled closer. He inhaled deeply, breathing her in, and he sighed at the warm, soft fragrance of her. Gods, she smelled good.

Her scent seemed to set all of his nerve endings alight, culminating in a throbbing heat deep in his belly. He wiggled his hips a bit as he felt himself responding to the smell and feel of her. Her warmth was everywhere and he felt as though he couldn’t get close enough.

After a few seconds, her mind shifted slightly against his as she awoke. Now that she was no longer asleep, he didn’t try to minimize his movements. Instead, he reached up to cup her breast in his hand as he rubbed himself lazily against her bum.

“Good morning,” he murmured into her ear, delighting in her full-body shudder. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Mmm.” Rose rolled in his arms, and he reluctantly released her breast. Her eyes were glazed with sleep and the bits of eye makeup she’d missed when washing her face last night were crusted around the corners of her eyes. She was beautiful. “Morning. Merry Christmas.”

She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair to tug him down for a kiss. He hummed against her lips and rolled half on top of her as he angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss. He brought his hand up to cup her breast again, and he felt her giggle into his mouth.

“That’s not exactly what a bloke wants to hear mid-snog,” the Doctor muttered petulantly.

“You’re a bit randy this morning, aren’t you?” Rose teased, poking her tongue out at him.

“Can you blame me?” He moved his lips to kiss a line down her jaw and to her neck. She moaned and arched her neck, giving him better access to the pale column of her throat. “Gods, Rose.” He kissed and nibbled at her neck.

Rose threaded her fingers through his hair to hold him against her neck. As though he would move anywhere else. He maneuvered his body until his hips were cradled in her thighs. He held himself up with one forearm planted on the mattress while his other hand played with her breasts.

“I’ve… I’ve got a present for you,” Rose whispered, squeezing his hair.

“I’m a bit busy,” he grumbled, slowly beginning to rock his hips into hers.

“Please, Doctor. I really want to give you this.”

The utter joy and excitement in her mind gave him pause. What on Earth could she possibly have for him that could break her focus away from his rather impressive seduction?

“Please.”

He sighed, but sat up. He rolled back onto his haunches, but lost his balance and dropped to his bum. He folded his long legs beneath him, playing it off as though he’d tried to fall backwards, but the laughter in Rose’s mind let him know she knew better.

“I nearly gave this to you yesterday,” Rose said, her voice shaking slightly as she turned to rifle through the drawer of her bedside stand. “I could hardly wait.”

She finally turned towards him holding a small rectangular package and a large square box. She extended the smaller package towards her. As he took it from her, he saw the way her fingers shook.

“Rose, are you all right?” he asked softly, ignoring his gift for a moment. He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Open your gift.”

The Doctor frowned a little, but he gave the backs of her fingers a parting kiss and let her pull her hands away from his.

He turned the package over to find the wrapping seam. He slipped his finger beneath it and smoothly tore open the package to reveal a small wooden box.

“Er. Thanks?”

This was what Rose wanted to interrupt a Christmas morning lovemaking session for?

“Your gift is inside the box,” she said a little impatiently.

Ah. Right. Of course.

He felt her snort at him before her mind began buzzing against his, no matter how hard she tried to hide her feelings from him.

He opened the lid of the box to reveal a small photograph and a thin, plastic strip.

His ears were ringing as he took the photo and the strip out of the box. The photo was a black, gray, and white image of a tiny blob. The piece of plastic had a small viewing window that had a simple little plus sign printed on it.

Heat burned behind his eyes as he looked back and forth between the photo and strip. The ultrasound and the pregnancy test. The positive pregnancy test.

“Rose,” he croaked. “Rose.”

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

Small hands covered his, then they moved to cup his cheeks. She tilted his head up to look at him. Tears were dripping silently down her cheeks even though she was smiling widely. He blinked, and her face blurred. He blinked again, but his vision worsened as hot tears finally slipped down his face.

“Rose.”

She was suddenly in his arms, and he desperately clutched her to him. He squeezed her as tightly as he could, taking comfort in her embrace even as they both choked on a sob. It had been ten years since they’d made the decision to try to make a baby. He’d known it might take a while. Gallifreyan males were only fertile for few days of the month, and with Rose’s enhanced physiology due to her spell as Bad Wolf, she was only fertile twice a year. He knew it would be tricky and timely for their fertility cycles to synchronize, but he’d been optimistic. They’d been optimistic. After all, with Rose’s extended lifespan, they had millennia left together in which to make their family.

But Rose struggled to adapt to her new cycle and had often become frustrated if their cycles didn’t align or—more heartbreakingly—if they had aligned but didn’t result in a pregnancy.

Rose was sobbing in earnest into his shoulder.

“I’m so happy,” she managed through her erratic breathing. “Oh, God, Doctor. I’m so happy. I wanted to tell you yesterday but then I thought it would make a good Christmas present, so the TARDIS helped me take a photo of our little baby and I could hear its hearts, Doctor! I heard our baby’s hearts!”

A small flash of jealousy shot through the Doctor amidst his indescribable joy. But then Rose whispered, “Part two of your gift is right here.”

The Doctor pulled away from Rose and scrubbed his palms into his eyes. He saw the second package sitting beside Rose.

Having an idea of what it was, he ripped into the package and pulled a portable ultrasound probe out of the box.

“Can-can I?” he asked, desperate to get his first look at his baby. To hear their tiny, precious, beautiful hearts beating.

“’Course. That’s why I wrapped it up for you.”

He grinned at Rose, who moved to lay back against the pillows. Her belly was utterly flat, but his mind eagerly supplied him the vision of how it would look in a few months, growing round with their baby.

“I love you,” he whispered, and he leaned forward to catch her lips in a kiss. “So much, Rose. So, so much. I’m so happy.”

She smiled at him, and he pecked a parting kiss to her mouth before he set the 64th century ultrasound probe against her lower abdomen and turned it on. He pressed a few buttons and the hologram screen popped up. It flickered for a second, before a tiny bean-like shape took form.

“It’s beautiful,” the Doctor breathed.

“Yeah,” Rose murmured.

He pressed a few more buttons, and soon a rapid beating rhythm sounded from the device. The heartsbeat.

“It’s beautiful!” he said again. He leaned towards Rose and pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips. “I want to do a full check-up on you and the baby later. But everything looks perfect so far.”

“I know,” Rose said. “The TARDIS gave me a scan.”

The ship hummed softly and dimmed her lights. The Doctor could feel his ship’s affection for her two pilots, and he sent his own back to his oldest companion.

“This is the best Christmas gift ever,” the Doctor murmured, staring at his tiny baby in awe. “The best.”

The Doctor gave Rose’s thigh a quick squeeze in warning before he powered down the ultrasound. Though he couldn’t hear his baby’s heartsbeat anymore, it was burned into his memory and his mind could keep perfect time with the rhythm, continuing the sound for him.

He set the instrument aside and lay down beside his wife. Her tears had dried and she was still grinning at him, and he felt his mouth stretch into a responding smile.

“I love you,” she said, reaching out to cradle his cheek in her palm.

He leaned down and brushed his lips to hers. Her scent swirled around him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He realized now that the delicious aroma coming from Rose was new pregnancy hormones. The scent tugged at something primal deep inside of him, and he let out a rumbling moan as he gently rolled himself on top of her where they joined together in a celebration of their love and the new life they’d made.

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #31 days of ficmas #doctor who #ten x rose #pregnancy #my fic #we sing joy

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indatsukasa · 1 year

Photo

A by-product of Othello Into the Puddle of Green Envy

#illustration #touhou #touhou project #touhou fanart #parsee mizuhashi #subterranean animism #東方 #東方Project #水橋パルスィ #東方地霊殿 #橋姫 #youkai girl #hashihime #地殻の下の嫉妬心 #緑眼のジェラシー #the jealousy beneath the earth's crust #green-eyed jealousy #green-eyed monster

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teyamsatan · 10 months

Note

mim sneak peak soon ? 👀

hi bb, your ask singlehandedly made me start writing this chapter hahahaha, so here is everything i wrote for the last chapter of mim, and i hope you enjoy xx

“I loved you, Vi.I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.”

How his fault was indifference, and yours was madness that only he had the power to coax out of you. You thought about his parents, and how his dad was now your dad, and how hard you fought for hearing the magic words: “we couldn’t have done it without you, kid”. Those words, and the “you’re welcome” that followed, became as necessary to you as the air you breathe. It may have started, this need to gain Jake’s approval, as a way to get a rise out of Neteyam, your best attempt at getting him to lash out at you, scream and yell, anything but the horrible silence he ordained you with, but in time, it had less to do with the boy and more to do with you, with how his dad reminded you of your own, how the words of praise and admiration made the ones you were used to, that you’d never hear again echo through the your tent and through the forest, hidden in between the whistles and sonorous trills of birds, but never forgotten, not to you.

“I’m sure, ma Tsa’hik.”

…time to say goodbye to the child you knew - the one you were, the one he was, and the love that took too much of both of you, the one that turned to ashes in your mouth.

coming soon x

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sailorscooby · 6 years

Text

Next Time (Rei/Minako)

The Five Times Rei and Minako Died, and the One Time They Didn’t

Word Count: 5,327

Referenced Canon: Sailor Moon Classic - Stars Episodes 45, 90, 96, 97, 101, 102, 109, 136, 194 Sailor Moon Crystal Episodes 10, 12, 30 Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon Manga Acts 10, 11, 12, 13, 41, 43, 52, 58 Codename wa Sailor V Volume 16

Read on AO3

I. The crust of the moon was acrid and burnt, sticky dark red painting the once beautiful silver ground.

They had lost the princess. They had lost everything.

Venus felt cold, a numb emptiness spreading through her veins. Mercury and Jupiter couldn't be reached--hadn't checked in over their link in too long. She knew they were gone too.

Corrupted infantrymen from earth were everywhere, and she had felt the awakening of the last soldier across the stars.

Tired cobalt eyes scanned around, ears sharp, body alert for the next thrall of Metalia to charge at her. A chunk of debris fell loose from the far pillar and she locked her aim, palm outstretched as far as her exhausted arm could push, prepared to expend the last of her energy on one final shower of light.

Her muscles tensed as the figure appeared, raven hair and silken uniform stained that same sickly red.

"Mars!"

Venus climbed over debris, breathing ragged by the time she reached the other woman. Pulling Mars into her arms, she noted the limp arm and fading body heat. The Martian wouldn't stand much longer. Their foreheads pressed together, messy wet bangs clinging to slick skin.

"Venus," it was quiet, so full of fear unlike anything the blonde had heard her lover say before, "they are all-"

Mars sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, and Venus' hands rushed up to her companion's jaw.

"You felt her too. The Soldier of Death is coming." Venus shook, hands and arms trembling, held up by strained legs. Mars' weight had never felt heavier than in this moment.

"Yes." Brilliant amethyst was framed by bloodshot crimson. Venus couldn't look any longer, stealing a desperate kiss from Mars' lips.

Sounds of shouting and the crunch of rubble beneath boots broke their kiss. Mars looked afraid, and Venus knew her lover wouldn't be able to aim her fire without use of both arms. Slowly, as gently as she could, Venus helped Mars slide to the ground. One strong hand held Mars' jaw once more, a fierce kiss pressing to her crown. Venus' eyes stung as tears threatened to fall. Mars gripped her thigh with purpose. "Venus...next time..."

Mars was gone too.

Venus stood, fists clenched tight and shaking with adrenaline.

"Over there!" She bit her lip, knees nearly buckling as she readjusted her stance in front of Mars. Forward scouts of the battalion were drawing near, urging other men to their position.

"Crescent..." Serenity was lost to them. Mercury, Jupiter, all their soldiers. Even the prince of Earth, for all her conflicted feelings about him, hadn't deserved the end he met. More of the corrupted men poured into their space, spears and shields raised as they advanced closer. "Beam..." Mars... The beautiful warrior lasted long enough to find her, long enough to give Venus one last kiss. The unit was so close now.

And Mars was gone.

"SHOWER!"

Brilliant lights danced, illuminating the courtyard and striking each man, undoubtedly revealing their position to the larger forces. Her legs gave out, falling back against the pillar. Her breathing was labored, and she knew what was coming next. Venus grasped for Mars' hand beside her as blinding purple light blanketed the stars above.

"Next time, Mars..."

II. Beryl had to be stopped in order to bring Metalia's reign of terror to an end. Rei didn't remember everything of the past, of the era of peace that supposedly came in the Silver Millennium, but she didn't need to right now. They had to do this for everyone on Earth.

She saw in Ami's eyes that the end was coming, watched the genius girl devise a trap clever enough to give the rest of them time to charge forward. Rei didn't want to ask if anyone else had felt it when Ami was gone--the soldier she had known the longest outside of their Princess. God, the princess--Usagi had been there the whole time, Serenity right under their noses. She always wondered if their newest addition to their team, the stalwart leader Aino Minako, had thought the rest of them to be fools for not knowing sooner.

The blonde's eyes were sharp, intense as they fought through the cold and the caves to reach the heart of D-Point. The holy sword weighed heavy in those lean arms, but Minako looked... right. Like the weapon from the moon was meant to be in her hands.

"On the right!" The order was barked out in time for Rei to see the hulking monstrosity in the archway. She fumbled to make her signs, wanting to bring fire to life and burn it to a crisp, but the crackling static of Makoto's power brought her to a halt.

"Go! I can take him!" The brunette was strong, Rei knew this, but an uneasy feeling washed over her. This all felt so familiar.

"Mars!" Rei blinked away the after images of war that she couldn't quite piece together and spared a final glance Makoto's way before following Aino. Sounds of thunder followed their footsteps until there was suddenly nothing.

"Mako-"

"We have to keep going. Before we lose her again."

Aino's voice was always so strong, full of unending confidence. This was the first time Rei had heard any trace of vulnerability from her.

Rei knew Aino remembered more than the rest of them, but she didn't know if that was a blessing or a curse.

They ran together through the empty passageways until they heard her; Beryl, traitor of earth and its prince.

"I don't see the princess," Rei admitted it quietly, not wanting to give away their position. She watched as Minako's eyes flicked across the room, brow furrowing further before nodding, tight.

"Find her. I'll hold Beryl back."

Her golden mane shimmered when Aino stood upright, and Rei's breath caught in her throat.

"Minako-" Soft gloves touched her own, making her pause. She met her leader's eyes, heart clenching to see the other girl smiling.

"It sounds nice when you say that. Don't wait next time."

"Next time..."

The words rang in her mind from another place. Another time.

Minako dashed out into Beryl's line of sight, proclaiming the corrupted woman would fall at her hands, while Rei took the opening to run.

She could hear them fighting, and felt it when it was over, stumbling to a stop to twist around and look. Minako had done it. The holy sword pierced through Beryl's heart, victorious blade glinting with slick red out Beryl's back. A cheer rose in Rei's throat, excitement flooding her veins.

And then she saw.

Beryl wasn't the only one who lost.

Trembling hands rose to cover her mouth, eyes wide in shock and fear. "No..." As Beryl's body faded away, Minako slumped. Rei couldn't move. The sound of approaching enemies, ravenous without their false queen, would descend upon her soon. Rei looked away, eyes closing tight as her fists. "Next time..." The heat of her fire was all she could feel in the end.

III. Of course Rei had been the first target. Kind, gentle, stoic--pure of heart. Her heart Crystal glittered so beautifully in the sun beneath the first Sakura tree. It made Minako sick, at the time, crushing the possession monster into dust. When Rei had explained it to her after the fact, Minako's stomach dropped out. "It was...a form of death," the miko had admitted over tea. Her hands trembled around the cup before setting it back against the table without taking a sip. Ami had asked practical questions, Makoto thinking more of the monster who had done it. Usagi and Mamoru both overflowed with compassion, directing the conversation to Rei herself. All Minako could do was watch her trembling hands.

Makoto had been next, followed by Ami. Both had been quietly affected by their attacks. They agreed with Rei--death felt similar.

Even Usagi, their beloved princess, was targeted. It made more sense than any of the rest of them, but it felt like a personal failure to not protect her.

Worse was the jealousy.

Minako hadn't been targeted, and it left her questioning her worth. What did it mean to be pure of heart? What was wrong with her that she... she wasn't.

Was she even fit to lead the senshi if her heart was...

"Minako?"

She blinked, clearing her head for the moment. Artemis was in her lap, looking up at her with concerned eyes.

"It's nothing. Are you coming with me today?" She knew the white tomcat was meeting his companion at Usagi's place. The question was out of habit, though Minako didn't like the way he seemed to be considering her offer. It would be better if she could think about this alone.

Artemis shook his head and jumped off her lap, stretching long and lazy on the mattress: "You're a good leader, Minako. Don't forget that."

She shook her head with a scoff, embarrassed at how easily he could see through her. Forcing a smile, Minako pushed through her door.

Twenty minutes later found her at the bottom of the stairs to the shrine, hands in her jacket pockets. She could go, and spill her thoughts and worries and fears to her friend, her comrade. She could even take Rei up on the promise of a free fire reading or card fortune.

Minako shook her head and walked away towards the shopping district. What if the fire only confirmed her fears? What if the way her heart pounded just that much faster when she was around the Martian soldier was apart of all this?

Maybe another day.

The bookstore was relatively quiet, allowing Minako to take her time reading all the spines in the shelves.

'Ten Steps to a Healthier Heart, Maiden's Purity, Mana and Chi; How Your Heart Smiles,' title after ridiculous title stared back at her. None of these would have information about the pure hearts Witches Five were after, let alone any real definitions of purity. That didn't stop her from skimming each one.

Nose-deep in 'Guide to a Pure Heart,' Minako was jolted from her thoughts by the sharp sensation of someone watching her. She straightened her back, glancing side to side.

She turned with a fake smile plastered on, one hand tingling with the energy to pull her transformation wand from subspace at any moment.

"I never thought we'd catch you studying, cutie."

Tenoh Haruka and Kaioh Michiru, the beauties of Mugen Gakuen who kept their relationship under wraps--not that they could hide that from Minako's expertly trained eyes. She had snuck into one of Michiru's concerts, disguised as a boy thanks to the Crescent Compact to hide her shame and attraction, but up close it was hard to ignore.

"Well you know me, selfless and pure of heart, always wanting to better myself..." she laughed, but it was too tense. Oversharing was not the key to a successful getaway.

Haruka smirked, but Michiru only studied the book in her hands.

Minako needed to get away from them.

She made some excuse, side stepping her way to the door and out of the shop.

Minako wandered then, thoughts a jumbled cacophony she couldn't parse, until landing in the seat of a park swing.

"Pure of heart..." She mumbled, digging her toe deeper into the ground.

She considered trying to go see Rei again to talk. Of all her friends and comrades, she was the most pragmatic. And Minako also... Heat crept up her cheeks and she stopped her swinging to stare at the skyline. She had kept a mix of memories from Venus about Mars, but it was more than that. It was the years spent together here and now in Tokyo, not the Silver Millennium, that had softened Minako's heart.

She sat there with a small smile pointed at the ground for a moment, breeze pushing at her thick golden locks.

And then the world was searing pain.

Her chest felt cracked open and exposed. With a ghostly gasp she looked down.

The others were right and wrong. It did remind her of dying, to an extent, but what it really felt like was the final battle against Kaito Ace, when memories were forced through her, system flooded with rage and sorrow, adrenaline and shock. Living torture.

Her heart crystal shined so beautifully. She was pure. She was pure!

A maniacal smile stretched across her face and she laughed, hysteric.

Minako slumped forward, arms encircling the crystal before her. Every second hurt like awakening, like death.

But her heart was pure.

She ran as fast as she could, blood burning through her veins as her muscles screamed. Or maybe that was her soul.

It didn't matter.

She vaguely recognized the shapes and colors of her friends, Usagi's shining silver life force taking the pain away, if only for a moment.

She felt the heat of fire--not Mars' fire though, and that made her scared.

Then the world, at last, went dark.

When she woke up again, covered in blankets and cold packs strapped to her forehead, the others cried tears of joy. After Usagi gushed, Ami lightly chastised, and Makoto fed her, Rei had leaned in close. Close enough for Minako to be thankful for the excuse of the blankets.

"Don't scare us like that next time..."

IV. The concept of dream mirrors terrified her. Rei saw enough of dreams, of premonitions, of what "could be" through the fires. But it was so clear what this enemy was doing, how they looked into the deepest hopes and desires of their victim's hearts.

Sweat beaded her brow as she drew the next arrow back, holding it long enough to adjust her aim.

Thwump!

She stayed upright, staring at the bullseye. A long, slow exhale finally let her relax and wipe her forehead. The others had been nudging her to find an extra curricular for ages. Her Super awakening had given her something to practice.

Minako had lost the ability to transform, nearly falling to her death over the dream mirrors. It was the first time any of them had seen Artemis look like anything but a cat, and he was beautiful. The way he had carried Minako free of danger, finally allowing her to transform again once her dreams were restored...

Rei's next arrow missed and she sighed, bringing her bow back down. She didn't know why this was bothering her.

She walked towards the trees to retrieve the arrows, knowing she was lying to herself.

The feelings she felt towards Minako were...complicated. The fringes of memories from the Silver Millennium had certainly made her interested, but the girl here and now in the present was much more compelling. A leader, ready to be a decoy at any moment, a physically strong young woman with muscles formed from years of volleyball and crime fighting, bilingual in Japanese and English, well traveled, and not as bad of a study as she would have everyone believe...

Rei knew these things after the years spent together, fighting side by side. She finally gave in and told Minako's fortune after Pharaoh 90 was dealt with, and found herself enjoying the company more often than not. And each private moment made her pulse race.

She could feel the heat on her face when she reached down for the last arrow.

Having all one's hopes and dreams exposed to evil, potentially to anyone close enough to look into the glass... Rei imagined it was a fate similar to death. Minako hadn't been close enough to anyone but Artemis and the enemy for her desires to be revealed, and seemed mostly unbothered when asked about it.

Minako also possessed the confidence to chase her dreams and desires without shame.

If Rei could chase her dreams... A few scenes crossed her mind, but blonde hair splashed across the images. Eartips as red as the feathers of her arrows, Rei tried to close the door on that train of thought.

Minako was waiting at the top of the steps, a casual smile offered in Rei's direction with a wave. She offered a small smile and a nod in return.

With Grandpa so sick, it was all she could do to keep the shrine open for visitors. Minako's brilliant idea had been a joke, get a man who could help out and inherit the shrine with her.

"Aino Minako, reporting for 'son-in-law' duty!"

Of course, Rei thought with a grim, half hearted smirk, Minako didn't quite understand the depth to which Rei meant it when she said she hated men.

The sound of brooms against stone was peaceful. With Phobos and Deimos relaxing in the branches nearby, and Minako keeping a serious attitude on the work, Rei almost felt... content, letting the time slip by.

"Ta-da!"

The noise startled her, transformation wand already in her grasp as Rei let her broom clatter to the ground. Alert, ready for the threat sure to come.

"Hey... Rei."

She blinked, finding herself face to face with her leader.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine. Perfectly fine," she breathed deep, letting her wand fade away on the exhale, "Let's just get changed. They won't wait for us forever."

Concerned cobalt was her only answer. Rei couldn't shake the feeling that she'd seen that exact look before.

By now they knew the circus was dangerous; a front for the malicious designs of Zirconia and their minions. The atmosphere had every detail perfect to be fun and inviting, but the warriors knew better. Rei knew better.

She still jumped at the chance to investigate the hall of mirrors on her own.

"No reflection..."

D O N O T W O R R Y! N O T R I C K S H E R E!

Rei jolted, spinning but finding no entrance, no paths she could take.

Y O U ' V E A L W A Y S W A N T E D T O B E H A P P Y.

She reached for her pen, into the subspace that was always so near.

"What trap is this?"

T H E Y ' R E H O L D I N G Y O U B A C K!

T H I N K O F N O T H I N G B U T Y O U R O W N H A P P I N E S S!

Palms met glass, unyielding and unbreaking, and Rei's breathing grew harder. She reached inside herself, reciting the words that for so long had banished any demon or evil before her, even before Mars' power found her.

W H Y F I G H T?

Y O U R M I N D A N D B O D Y A R E M I N E T O D E V O U R N O W!

Blinding light, a cacophony of noise, so much, too much--it overwhelmed her.

The headboard came up, bolts clicking in place, and when she looked down--

"No!"

Her mirror. Perfect and pink, surrounded by bows of blue like all those she had seen before. Beautiful voice and bright blonde hair flitted across the glass, raven and amethyst close behind. Laughter, quiet, sighs, brooms against stone...

"Well well well, what is this?"

Tiger's Eye circled like the predator he was born from, and Rei swallowed the fear in her throat.

"Stay ba-!"

Tiger's Eye dove beneath the glass of her mirror and Rei screamed, desperate and afraid.

She would rather be dead than let anyone see.

"No pegasus?! Argh!"

Tiger's Eye ripped his way from her mirror, furious and growling. And Rei...

The glass above them shattered, vicious screeches of crow overpowering every other noise.

"Phobos... Deimos..."

The explosion of green and blue and pink were familiar, a comfort. But the orange and yellow that blew Tiger's Eye away, leaving nothing but a scared animal in its wake, opened her eyes.

"Mars!"

She reached for the pen again, just outside of her conscious. Heavy, warm, and bright...

The flames licked her heels as she pulled the bow back, not taking the time to breathe between transformation and attack.

And then Tiger's Eye was gone.

With a shudder she let the weapons fade away, fists still balled and eyes cast away.

Two soft gloves cupped her cheeks, forcing Rei to meet those same worried cobalt eyes.

"Don't go it alone, next time..."

V. She never wanted to feel this pain again.

Minako clutched the sides of her head, fingers catching on the edge of her tiara, for all the good it was doing her now.

Mercury and Jupiter... no... Ami and Makoto... they were gone. Not like the other times, not like the Silver Millenium, not like Beryl, not like Pharoh 90, not like Nehelenia...

They were gone.

"Where are they?! Where did you take them to?! Bring them back!!"

She screamed, because she had nothing else.

"VENUS!!"

Uranus' slap was hard enough to leave her cheek stinging. Minako shook herself, blinking back tears--from the pain of the slap or her friends' absence, she didn't know.

Rei was still alive, she could feel that. Usagi, Haruka, Michiru, Setsuna and Hotaru. All of them were here to face the Aluminates, and the Starlights.

The Starlights... her anger renewed, she burned holes with her gaze at the three standing across the roof. They were enemies, not to be trusted. Not to be let anywhere near her princess or her comrades.

"No... Galaxia must have them... We've got to save them!"

Her fist clenched tight before her chest, swearing to anyone who would listen. If she shouted loud enough, maybe no one would see the fear that cast a shadow over her heart.

The next morning she met Rei at the bottom of the steps, looking no worse for wear. But Rei knew. She always knew these days, didn't she?

"...Minako," just her name was enough to rekindle the beat in her heart, "we'll protect her."

The warm, slender fingers gripping her own gave fuel to the promise, even if it felt like a lie.

They met Usagi at her front door, and while Rei put on the act of scolding the princess for studies--who could possibly think of studying at a time like this--Minako took a long, deep breath.

"Uu-saa-gii~!"

She tried to be chipper, playing her own role as the overprotective leader. The man walking his dog could be the enemy, after all.

"Or they could be posing as some nice lady separating her trash!" Rei joined in, nodding towards the poor woman on the street, smoldering amethyst eyes meeting Minako's.

Minako felt the jolt, the feeling of someone watching too intently. She knew Rei could feel it too. With a quick scan while her princess was occupied, Minako searched for the threat.

"Or," she began, metal in her voice as she locked eyes with the intruder, "they might be pretending to be an electrician to spy on you from a utility pole!"

She pointed with force, the crescent beam on the edge of her sense if she just took one step further.

When Usagi turned her gaze skyward, Rei laughed loudly, a forced noise that was unnatural but enough to draw the princess' attention.

"That would never happen!"

Usagi giggled, holding back a sniffle as they continued on.

Minako met Rei's eyes again, strong and unwavering.

"You never know!"

They continued the charade all the way to the high school, trading off with Haruka and Michiru at the gate as the two older girls walked Usagi the rest of the way to class.

"Are you ready?"

There was her Mars, stoic and to the point. It almost brought a real smile to Minako's face.

"To the roof then."

The emergency stairs were quiet, empty save for their footfalls.

"You know, Rei," Minako began, voice betraying her own fear of what they would meet in mere moments, "that uniform looks great on you. Who knew my uniform would fit you so perfectly?"

She caught Rei's gaze, calm and expectant.

"It reminds me of that time I snuck into your school."

Rei smiled, and Minako felt the fire of courage build just a little bit more.

"It would have been nice..." Minako turned in the doorway at the sound of Rei's voice, looking back at the woman she considered her closest friend, "If I had gone to this school, I could have been with you more. With all of you."

The sky was dark, cloudier than it should have been. Minako felt her hair stand on end, her volleyball uniform offering little to shield her from the chill.

"There's no going back after this battle. It's like nothing else we've done before..."

"Stop!"

Minako couldn't take it, not the cryptic words, not the stoic calm, not the fear or the pain that was coming. She stepped into Rei's space, clasping her hands and tracing her lips with a finger.

"We made a pact. We would rescue them both. We would protect the princess. This is no different than anything else we've done."

She lowered her finger, but Rei's hands tightened around Minako's.

"Everything will go back to normal. We can lead high school girl lives, and find love, and go on dates, and work hard! We'll find those dreams, and I'll accept nothing less!"

They were close now, foreheads together as Minako whispered her promise to no one but the two of them.

"Rei, I..."

"Stop fooling yourself."

In an instant, they broke apart, transformation wands in hand and ready to fight.

"Starlights," Minako grit the word out like a curse, unmoving.

"You both already have someone in your hearts, who you live for."

She could feel Rei tense next to her at Star Healer's words, but Minako couldn't help the grin that pulled at her lips.

"You know... you're right."

She reached for Rei's waist, leaning heavily into the other girl. Minako's heart jolted when Rei met her, holding just as tight.

"We don't need men..." the stoic voice was hypnotic, almost electric to Minako's ears.

"Is that so bad?"

It didn't actually matter what Fighter, Healer, or Maker's answer was. She felt the flames rise up next to her before being surrounded by her own bright, metallic burst of light.

She was Venus in the next breath, powerful and confident.

And ready to fight.

Or at least... that's what she thought.

Maker, Healer, Fighter... they weren't allies, but they weren't the enemy...

Galaxia's power was blinding, cold and sharp as it tore away at every hair, every thread, every nerve. Venus groped at the air, desperately searching out her second in command—her Mars.

This was too familiar but so much worse.

The warmth of fire was the last tangible sensation Minako felt, before there was nothing.

Everything was dark. Cold. Just like-

"Rise."

The sultry voice was commanding, and Venus felt herself awaken for the first time in what felt like centuries.

The gauntlets were dark, and tight against her skin, but it didn't hurt. Nothing felt... full.

Did she have a purpose? A mission...?

"Gah-!" Pain tore through her, and Venus toppled to her knees. All around her were the faded, darkly worn skirts of others like her...

"Do you remember your mission?"

"Yes, Lady Galaxia!"

It rang out like an empty prayer from the others. And her own lips too. She stood once more.

"Erase the light of hope. She will be here shortly..."

Golden heels clicked across the marble stone. Who were they? Who was the light? Who...

Red and black and amethyst invaded her vision, the other soldier cutting a path to where they would lay in wait.

"Ma...rs..."

The bracelets around her wrist sparked, dark and painful, and the flame went out.

Kill Sailor Moon, and steal her crystal.

The orders were clear.

Venus watched with something resembling pride as Mars unleashed her attacks against their opponents. The rabbit's guard were nothing compared to them.

The others attacked relentlessly too, and the dark power coursing through Venus' veins compelled her to step forward after all of them.

"Venus love and galaxia shock!!"

It was... different. Not quite right. Though every thought like that brought more pain coursing through the bracelets to her nerves.

But at least she was side by side with Mars again.

Venus felt so confident. So assured. They would win for Lady Galaxia and then...

And then...?

"No...Serenity...Mars...?"

The world tumbled past her lips, eyes scanning frantically for...

Cobalt met amethyst with a promise.

Next time. Finally, next time.

The light washed over them as the princess freed them from the darkness, one final time.

VI. For the first two weeks, they all stayed together at the Outers' mansion. It was almost like a sleepover, but the desperate, frightened, yet palpable relief running through them all set it apart. They would never be the same, after Galaxia. But it would make them stronger.

They had to go back to reality, eventually. One by one they each returned home, quiet and introspective of what the future held.

Minako missed Artemis, but couldn't begrudge her loyal mentor for seeking out time with his soulmate after the ordeal they had gone through.

Rei returned to the shrine, reassuring her grandfather that everything would be alright now. The Chaos had passed. Life could return to peace, at least for now.

And the shrine grounds didn't tend themselves.

Minako couldn't sleep. The warmth of her fellow soldiers, her destined family, was too strong, and now left an aching absence in her chest. The tiles of the roof weren't comfortable, but she could deal with a little discomfort.

She had died again, after all.

The city lights were so bright, a constant, with a distant thrum of noise. Minako felt restless. What does a soldier do with peace?

Rei clasped her hands tightly together before the large rope, praying. She didn't want to fight anymore.

She didn't want to die again.

But she would in the next breath if it meant protection of the Princess.

It helped knowing the others felt the same, that she would never be alone in this destiny. Rei took her time wandering the courtyard, the moonlight and breeze a comfortable companion in the silence the shrine offered.

Destiny. Companionship.

Love.

Beyond her duties, beyond the drive Mars had granted her, the desire to be near another coursed through her veins like the heavy beat of a drum.

The footsteps coming up the stairs were ones she knew well--too well--to be alarmed. Instead she waited, eyes purposely trained away towards the trees.

Minako's breathing was labored from running the whole way; off the roof, through the streets, up the thousand steps to the one person she knew would understand.

Or, the one person she hoped would understand.

Rei turned slowly, wind pushing her hair past her face, shimmering darkly in the low lights. She took in Minako's desperate state with calm eyes.

"Rei-chan," her voice had a distinct waver of vulnerability, cobalt eyes shining bright in the moonlight. "Is it next time yet?"

Rei stepped closer, hand anchoring at Minako's short-clad hip. "Minako..."

She tilted her head so slightly, breath warm against skin in the cool night air.

Soft lips hid a longing and intensity that had built over centuries.

The feeling like falling from a cliff's edge; the Love Me Chain her only tether.

Passion and heat, an enveloping warmth that only Rei held inside of her...all of it brought to the surface with the kiss.

They didn't pull far apart, only enough for cobalt to meet amethyst, seeking answers to questions their hearts had been asking since the dawn of the millennia.

"Next time... I'm not waiting so long."

Rei laughed in response, low and soft, stealing another breathy kiss from Minako's full lips.

"No more 'next time'. I promise."

#scoob post #text post #reinako #sailor moon #scoob fic

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rhetoricandlogic · 4 years

Photo

Dynamic Tension: State Tectonics by Malka Older

Liz Bourke

Tue Sep 11, 2018 2:00pm

Malka Older’s Centenal Cycle began in 2016 with Infomocracy. Now it ends, at least for now, with State Tectonics, the third book in the sequence.

Those titles reward examination. At first glance, “infomocracy” looks like a portmanteau, a combination of “information” and “democracy,” implying a system where access to democracy is increased through greater provision of information. And as Infomocracy revolves around elections, access to information, and democratic processes (and with antagonists who attempt to subvert such processes), this reading seems to fit.

But Information is also an organisation within the world of the Centenal Cycle: a well-meaning organisation that disseminates information and validates elections, that possesses essentially a monopoly on information infrastructure within the microdemocracy system that exists within the world of the Centenal Cycle. A different reading of Infomocracy turns it into a portmanteau relating to democracy’s roots: the rule of information (or of Information).

Both, it seems to me, are valid readings. Especially in light of the developments of State Tectonics.

We can play the same game of semantic nuance with the title of State Tectonics. “Tectonics” is a word for the structure and properties of the Earth’s crust and its development over time: a development that can be slow and incremental (the growth of mountain ranges, the changing shapes of continents) or provide sudden violent shocks that intrude into human experience: volcanoes and earthquakes are also the result of tectonic processes. And “state,” as a noun, can either mean a particular condition that something or someone is in at any given time, or it can refer to a political entity united under a government.

The events of State Tectonics bring all the aspects of this wordplay to the fore. Human society is never exactly static, and in State Tectonics change both incremental and shocking is underway: changes in both the particular condition of the centenal system and in the political “states” that relate across it.

Malka Older is an accomplished writer, simultaneously interested in social systems and in people and their complicated relationships to each other and to the social and technological systems in which they live and work. Each of her novels have expanded upon the cast of the previous one: if Infomocracy belonged primarily to Mishima and Ken, and Null States to Mishima and Roz, State Tectonics belongs to primarily to tech whizz Maryam, with supporting protagonist roles played by Mishima, Roz, and Mishima’s protégée Amran.

Some years have passed since the events of Null States. It’s nearly time for a new election across the microdemocratic world. Mishima, now an ex-spy since her cover was blown by the Chinese, has a two-year-old child with Ken, and is reluctantly participating in Information political manoeuvring to be elected to an advisory council to the next Supermajority government. Roz is happily married and pregnant with her first child, and is supervising Information’s oversight of the beginnings of a transport tunnel beneath the Earth’s mantle. And Maryam, living in La Habana, has just been asked by her boss to investigate a series of attacks on Information data processing centres: attacks in which no one was harmed, but whose purpose no one can figure out. Said boss puts her in touch with Tasreen Khan, the eighty-nine-year-old mastermind behind the original Information project now living in quiet retirement in Dhaka, in the hopes that between them, they can figure out what the endgame of these attacks are. But Maryam isn’t entirely sure that she trusts Khan, and her job gets a lot more complicated—and a lot less like her original job description—when she’s asked to track down competing sources of information, information that isn’t on Information: basically to spy.

It turns out that there are a lot of forces working to change the world, and maybe Information isn’t best placed to be an impartial unelected unaccountable arbiter anymore.

Maryam is an enormously relatable character, and a deeply compelling one. Her relationship with soldier Núria is complicated by her insecurities—her last lover was a senior member of Information, who dumped her when she became Maryam’s boss—her jealousy of Núria’s glamorous friends, and the amount of time that both of them spend travelling for work. Maryam’s not used to being a spy, and she doesn’t think she’s particularly good at it. But within her field of technological competence, she’s very confident indeed.

(And can I just say that it’s a delight to see a character who’s an observant Muslim and a woman who loves women, and her religion is the absolute last thing that’s in the way of her having happy relationships.)

Mishima, meanwhile, is itching under the pressure to be a spokeswoman for bureaucracy. She’s a woman of action, and needs to act. Naturally she leaps on the first opportunity to do what she’s always done well—even if it affects her relationship with Ken.

State Tectonics is excellently-paced, complicated, twisty, full of intrigue and incident. It’s also a truly international vision of the future: the action ranges from Doha to Dhaka, from Nairobi to New York, from Cuba to Canadian Guelph to Belgium and Istanbul, all of these locations drawn with an eye for place and atmosphere that makes them feel real and vivid, inhabited futures. The characters are strongly drawn individuals, each interesting and compelling in their own way.

But the true argument of Older’s State Tectonics is about the tension within human-made social systems, human systems of government: the dynamic tension between powers and the delicate balance—the delicate distinction—between change and chaos, between stability and stasis.

It’s a fascinating argument, and State Tectonics is a fascinating and immensely readable book, a fitting capstone to the series.

And now that it’s done, I’m really interested in seeing where Older takes her manifold talents next.

#Malka Older #State Tectonics #mahreviews #long post

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lordpiplup · 7 years

Text

a story i started writing a lil while back

2010 words

Older, so there’s probably some mistakes

Just the first chapter

It's a wonder how the aspen tree species takes the name 'quaking aspen'. Does the ground beneath it tremble in fear, or perhaps even jealousy, at it's unrequited beauty and bark as light as clouds? Long unnoticeable slashes identically colored to the base of the quaking aspen line around the tree along with unusual charcoal-colored splotches in strange places.

Of course, if you have not witnessed such a thing, the imagination could be quite difficult to form in your mind. Anyone who is at least slightly educated in the quaking aspen knows that the earthquake theory is in fact, not the case.

Their leaves are intriguing because they're flat, small, and attach themselves to the tips and sides of branches. The most interesting part of the leaves however is how even the slightest breeze in a cool summer evening, to a frostbit winter, they begin to quake tremendously, therefore giving the name, quaking aspen.

The leaves are also emerald green at any given time but fall. In fall the leaves turn a smooth, sunny color which makes them the highlight of cliche photographers who return to the same place every year, until they die. Doesn't sound adventurous at the slightest.

Lastly, there's another fact that makes quaking aspens quite unusual. Quaking aspens colonize, meaning that in a forest of these trees, all of their roots are connected underground forming an ultimate chain of these remarkable mutant stalks bearing leaves that tremble in the wind.

These are all things which any mind by the age of 16 should be educated in. However, that is not the case. Certain minds, when raised around certain people, certain environments, and certain situations mold into personalities and memories.

Many children by a young age want to be adventurous and explore the world, yet the sorrowing veracity is that when these children whom are intrigued with the idea of exploring almost seem to completely forget, almost discard the idea, and soon become careless of the occurring events for the rest of their life.

It's as if they take their contentment towards a notion and push it into the ebony-shaded parts of their mind and generally never take the joy and satisfaction of an idea out of the dark ebony-shaded parts of their mind ever again, and it jogs their mind in their dying breaths with regret of vacating the chances they once had for true happiness. Then their hopefully wrinkled eyelids fasten and they slip into a bittersweet eternal sleep. The memories and regrets vanish into thin air.

It's slightly unnerving to know that you may never discover what happens after your death.

Thankfully, there is another species of mind which is scarce these days. The thinkers. These optimistic children often experience the same idea of exploring the vast world, or perhaps becoming a famed singer or painter. The only divergence between these two common types is that these children take a shaky, beaten down, and bruised hand and grasp onto reality and their thoughts and emotions.

They are aware, and they are creative, even if they don't know it yet. Well, I suppose if they don't know it yet then they aren't particularly aware, but the imaginative minds rest either deep below the surface within their thoughts, or the vulnerable shallows of their tongue. Gratefully, but possibly ungratefully, this story is fortunate enough to revolve around the mind of the un-awoken creative type. Not all stories are as fortunate as this. But not all story's introductions are as necessarily truthful as this either.

It begins on a murky, gravelly day in a small town which isn't placed on the map. Bijou structures are the main attraction of this secret town, and minor groupings of townspeople roam the streets daily, wrapped in fleece and leather jackets and coats, and paint-splattered denim jeans. Everyone reacts and appears the same as well. Quaking aspens line the streets yet the leaves are immobile today, and instead of being a emerald green color like described in various archives, they're just a dull, uninviting minty color. The buildings are constructed of brick and plaster for the majority of them. A city that in fact is marked on the map, unlike this shy town, is about 7 miles away from the center of the quaint town, which is considered very close by bike. The world is changing before everyone's eyes, yet no one is aware of such a disastrous analogy. When the clouds shift, the crust underneath the earth does as well. When the sun beams the ground melts. When the seasons change, your mind does too.

Necessary creativity is unnecessary. Unnecessary creativity is necessary. When your heart stops it continues to beat. It beats unless you choose defeat. Never choose defeat.

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

A gust of humid wind ruffles the hatless heads of hair nearby. The townspeople complain and scurry into their shivering homes like rats to food or moths to light. A drop of liquid on the ground signals a rainstorm approaching, and suddenly umbrellas shoot upwards into the spring air in the distance. Spring is supposed to be pleasant, he wonders. Instead the wind along with the weather forces everyone to run and hide, avoiding work or responsibilities.

The boy continues to hurriedly shuffle down the sidewalk to his destination, swatting the drowning mosquitoes begging for safety atop his head. The drops of rain begin to fall more frequently, and the boy picks up his pace as he glares to the left and right for suspicious activity.

It suddenly becomes dark as the charcoal-colored clouds mask the sun behind their floating mass of liquid, and the rain begins to pour. The boy begins to jog, paying no attention to the forming puddles beneath his sopping wet shoes. Doors slammed in the distance presumably suggesting more people escaping spring's drench. In the pursuit of the boy now sprinting, rocks flew beneath his feet knocking into lamp posts and making a cling sound or falling into the cracks of the sidewalks or simply just rolling into the grass to get jammed in a lawn mower in the future. The trees aligning the streets begin to sway back and forth progressively as time went on, and the wind began to blow the rain sideways, leaving everyone outdoors the victim of the soggy downpour.

Breathing heavily, the boy practically leapt across the crosswalk, and making a mad dash to the slight overhead of the door leading to his destination. His destination turned out to be a small, two story white house with a smudged-slightly-damaged-picket-fence in the front yard and windows with the blinds drawn from the interior and a miniature willow tree nearing the back of the house. The house obviously needed a new paint job, but thankfully it was hardly noticeable.

Rain and sweat dripped off the edge of the edge of his nose and his hair looked straightened and flat. His eyelashes wore tiny beads of dew on the tips and nonetheless, his clothes were soaked despite the fact he's wearing a maroon-colored rain jacket.

Taking a mighty sigh he rang the doorbell three times rapidly and eagerly awaited for the sound of the click signaling the door being unlocked and then rushing inside to warmth.

Click.

His eyes widened and as soon as the door swung open he bounded into the house-that-needs-a-paint-job and scurried up the stairs, paying no mind to the woman who's mouth was left gaping at the front door. Once the boy arrived upstairs he carefully slipped his weeping shoes off his damp gray socks and left them next to a door near him. He slipped off his maroon rain jacket and hung it on the curved silver hook next to the bathroom door revealing a plain black shirt with a logo on the bottom right which was worn hardly visible. The floor was gratefully wooden so a bit of rain dripping off of the jacket and shoes is an easy fix.

The boy began to parade to the end of the hallway to knock on the door there when the door creaked open upon his arrival. There stood a tall skinny ebony-haired boy with glasses wearing a turtleneck and jeans, with a massive grin and also a hint of amusement plastered on his pale face. The boy's brow furrows in confusion because the black-haired boy standing before him usually speaks up sooner. Finally the black-haired boy breaks the silence.

"Dallas, where have you been all day?" he questions.

Dallas scratches the back of his leg with his wet sock and looks to the side. "I had to drop off my essay at the school," he began hesitantly, "and Mr. Williams decided to give me a lecture on eating well because I look 'peckish'"

Dallas then noticed the other boy's shirt read his name on the shoulder. He then decided to mention it right as the other was about to speak.

"I see you got a new shirt there, Vincent" Dallas scoffed matter-of-factly. Vincent rolled his eyes and spoke,

"It was for sale, okay?"

"Oh yes I understand. You bought a shirt that looks just like all your others so you could wear your name on your sleeve proudly because it was for sale," Dallas laughed, pointing out that Vincent's excuse was obviously not acceptable.

"Okay yes," Vincent began, "I kind of wanted to walk around wearing my name which happens to be unique by the town's standards"

"Well my name is unique too"

"Touche"

"Shut up"

"Fine"

Vincent punched Dallas in the shoulder playfully before realizing that his friend was still standing in the hallway, shivering. "Oh my bad," Vincent muttered to Dallas and he shuffled into the room with Dallas following close after. Vincent approached the dresser and dug around in the middle drawer for a few moments until he threw a dry t-shirt, jeans, boxers, and socks at the unsuspecting Dallas, who was captivated by his own mind once again. "Thanks," Dallon said, and Vincent smiled in recognition. Dallon blankly stared into his clothing. Vincent's voice startled him. "What're you thinkin' about?" Vincent questioned whilst climbing into the top bunk above Dallas. Dallas shook his head and answered softly, "Nothing".

"Aww c'mon," Vincent begged. He was curious as to what was in Dallas' mind.

"Nothing!" Dallas chuckled.

Vincent leaned over the bed and hung upside-down in front of Dallas, pushing his glasses into place to keep them from slipping off as he hung. Dallas rolled his eyes as Vincent stuck his lower lip out as if to pout. "You should know by now that you wont get facts outta me that easily," Dallas challenged. Vincent raised his eyebrows and a small sound escaped his mouth, but he could not complete his counter statement as Dallas stood up and walked to the bathroom door across the room, holding the dry clothes in the air to signal that he needed to get dressed, because he was starting to become very uncomfortable with the wet clothes on his back. He turned the doorknob lightly and sighed into the bathroom before shutting the door behind him, leaving Vincent to keep himself occupied.

Dallas set the clothes his friend gave him down on the counter and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His chocolate-colored hair was ruffled and damp and was slicked back in the front from Dallas constantly trying to keep his hair out of his face. His hazel-colored eyes looked rather dull today. He pondered that as he slid his clothes off and replaced his cold, worn clothing with dry, warm ones.

He also pondered how he'll return to school the next day. It's just the same thing everyday, over and over again. Dallas already knows more than he should for being a Junior in highschool. He'd rather go out and explore --- or rather, just sit in Vincent's room and read novels all day. He, of course, knew that would never happen. Both Dallas and Vincent are sixteen, almost seventeen, and their adulthood is beginning soon. "Cliché," I mutter quietly to myself as I open the door.

#my writing #this was a really cool story idea in my mind #it was going to turn in to existentialism #but i didn't get around to writing any more

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