#crown keepers you will always have such a special place in my heart

[athenasplan]

An underrated moment from the finale was imogen being confused as to why opal calls orym "nancy" and dorian going "we have inside jokes too :)"

[aishangotome]

Alfons Sylvatica: [Mad Love] Chapter 25

Chapter 24 Premium Story

♡———♡

If life were a fairy tale, it would be easy to find happiness.

All you'd need to do is be kind, compassionate, and full of love.

Usually, people like that are the protagonists of stories... and "protagonists" usually end up happy.

But what if you were an irredeemable villain,

and on top of that, fell in love with someone like a "protagonist"?

The chances of a happy ending for you would be incredibly low.

In my case? Well, what do you think? Which one do you believe?

-

– One month later, as promised.

Victor looked up contentedly, holding the final report I had submitted.

Victor: Thank you, Kate. You kept our secret and documented their crimes.

Kate: I'm relieved to have completed the task I was assigned.

Kate: I believe I've honestly recorded all actions that are clearly crimes according to the law and ethics.

Victor: Yes. And on top of that, your "special notes" that you always include were quite interesting.

Kate: I wanted to add what I saw and felt with my own eyes...

It was a desperate measure for me, who couldn't write that obvious crimes were "not crimes" out of personal feelings, nor could I write that they were "crimes" in a rigid manner, excluding all personal feelings.

In reality, what Alfons does is like a mirror, where good and evil are two sides of the same coin.

He shows illusions and drives people mad – but some are saved by it.

The work of taking lives is a serious crime – but there are also lives that cannot be saved without doing so.

Victor: I actually think these "special notes" are important and valuable.

Kate: Huh...?

I looked at Victor in surprise, and he gently narrowed his eyes.

Victor: I told you at the beginning, didn't I? I want you to write down what you think is a crime.

Victor: In your eyes... they were not cursed beings destined to commit crimes.

Victor: Reading this, it's clear you saw them as human beings.

Victor: And it's that perspective, the ability to look at the person in front of you, not their status, title, or superficial impression...

Victor: I believe that's what will lead this country to a better place.

Victor lovingly gazes at the words. It's the same expression he sometimes shows when looking at the Crown members and me.

Kate: Victor and William – why did you two establish the Crown?

Victor: Hmm? Well...

Victor: Just as everyone living in the bright places of this country wishes it could be that way for everyone...

Victor: We wished that those who can only live in the darkness of night could also spread their wings freely... I guess.

I probably still only know a fraction of the dark world they fly in.

But I had no anxiety about diving into it.

Victor: Now, you are officially free.

Victor: Can you tell me? What do you want to do from now on?

Kate: Yes, Victor.

I lift my chin.

Kate: Please let me continue my work as a Fairytale Keeper.

Kate: I want to stake my life on defying Alfons' fate.

Like a flickering illusion, Alfons' true form has slipped through my fingers countless times, leaving my heart lost and wandering.

But each time, hope also appeared before me.

Kate: Investigating with Roger, I felt that there are things I can do.

Kate: Besides... memories become more deeply etched the more you trace them.

Kate: If I deeply engrave them in my eyes, ears, nose, and entire body, something might remain.

Victor smiled with narrowed eyes and firmly shook my hand.

Victor: ...That's a wonderful decision. I'll support you.

Kate: Thank you.

Victor: So...

Victor: Have you told him about it?

Kate: That's...

-

Kate: So, I look forward to continuing to work with you.

Roger: Yeah, same here.

I handed him a summary of the report to Her Majesty, specifically the part detailing what I knew about Alfons' curse and abilities.

Roger grinned.

Roger: You're a naughty girl, aren't you? Leaking the report to Her Majesty.

Kate: Primary sources only gain value when they're in the hands of a skilled researcher.

Kate: There's no researcher in all of Britain who investigates curses as earnestly as you, Roger.

Kate: If this advances research on curses even a little...

Kate: It would be beneficial to Her Majesty, who bears the burden of the cursed for the sake of the country, wouldn't it?

Elbert: ...Hehe.

I looked up at the sound of laughter, like sunlight filtering through thin lace curtains.

The beautiful person who had been watching us from a simple examination bed was laughing.

Kate: Is something wrong...?

Elbert: No... your way of speaking has become a bit like Al's, I thought.

Kate: Huh?

(Did I sound like him just now...?)

My face suddenly felt hot, and I hurriedly searched for another topic.

Kate: Um, Elbert, why are you here? Are you injured somewhere?

Roger: He was stumbling around from lack of sleep, so I just forcibly put him to sleep with sleeping pills.

Kate: Are you alright...?

Elbert: Yeah. It's common... don't worry about it.

Elbert: ...If you have any trouble, tell me. I'll do anything I can.

Elbert: This time, for sure... so that the happiness of "both of you" won't be broken.

("This time, for sure"...?)

It bothered me a little, but Elbert's eyes were somewhat sad, and I couldn't ask.

Until something decisive happened, like Alfons leaving a will and disappearing, it feels like Elbert has always been watching us from a slight distance, like this.

(Will I ever understand the meaning of his words and the reason for his sad eyes...?)

Kate: ...Elbert, if there's anything I can help you with, please tell me.

Elbert: Thank you. ...If you could be happy with Al, that would be the best.

Roger: So, the Fairytale Keeper will continue her exclusive contract with Al, huh?

Roger: ...So, on this momentous contract renewal day, where is the man himself?

Kate: That's...

Kate: He's not here... nowhere to be found...

-

I haven't told Alfons about anything yet, including what I told Victor and the others about my future plans.

It's all because Alfons went off somewhere and hasn't returned to the castle.

Kate: Where did he go...?

He should know that today is the day of our promise.

(Doesn't he care if I stay at the castle or go back to town...?)

Feeling uneasy, I quietly returned to my room and found an unfamiliar envelope on the bed.

(Th-this incredibly illegible handwriting... it's Alfons...!)

I hurriedly opened it – it only said "Post Office."

Kate: Wh-what...? Does this mean I should go there? What does it-- Ugh!

Unable to stand still, I rushed out of the room.

-

Director: I'm glad you came to say goodbye after sending such a polite resignation letter.

Director: If you have any trouble at your next job, you're always welcome to come back.

Director: Oh, right. I have an envelope for you that I was asked to give you when you came.

The next envelope said, "At the pub...".

-

Manager: Oh, it's been a while, lass. Al hasn't been making you cry again, has he?

Manager: If he's been giving you a hard time, just say the word. I'll smack him with one of the bottles he keeps here.

Manager: Oh, I almost forgot. Here, Al told me to give this to you if you came by.

-

The next one was the market where the boy I saved from the Docklands fire worked.

Youth: Ah... M-miss...

Youth: Um, at the harbor warehouse... th-that fire... th-thank you for saving me.

Youth: I-I'm... working here now, thanks to a referral from the person who got me into the hospital...

Youth: I didn't know there was such a warm life.

Youth: Ah, this... the man from that time told me to give it to you if you came.

-

Kate: Huff... huff... In the end, back to the original place...!?

By the time I got back to my room, following the instructions in the letters, it was already completely dark.

The last envelope was tossed on the bed, just like the first one.

*"Welcome back. I'm sorry to bother you when you're tired, but would you like to have a party tonight?"

*"If YES, dress up and come to the dining hall."

Even I think I'm an idiot for obediently dressing up according to this unreasonable message.

While even the Alfons in my head mocked me for being so serious, I entered the dining hall...

-

Kate: Alfons, what are you up to...!?

I gasped as I saw the dining table adorned with a luxurious dinner.

Alfons: Even after being so unreasonably dragged around, you still follow me.

Alfons: You really are an idiot, aren't you?

Alfons, who had been sitting leisurely in a chair, stood up and approached me, gallantly extending his hand.

Kate: What's going on, all this...? Did Victor prepare this...?

Alfons: No? I prepared it while you were running all over London, buying me time.

Alfons: Amazing, isn't it? Please praise me with all the vocabulary you can muster.

Kate: You prepared all of this, Alfons...?

Alfons: Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm good at cooking.

Alfons winked, saying so.

Alfons: Perhaps it's a reaction to having eaten nothing but garbage-like meals, but I have a weakness for delicious food.

Alfons: It's a surprise.

And so, he escorts me, who is dumbfounded, to my seat.

Alfons: Say, Kate. How was it breathing in the London air today?

A napkin is spread over my lap, and a chuckle brushes past my ear.

Kate: Huh...?

Alfons: The post office, it must have brought back memories. You're so straightforward and serious, I bet you missed it.

Alfons: You probably don't have many good memories of the pub. Well, the place itself isn't bad.

Alfons: The boy you saved must have blended into the peaceful everyday life of London.

Alfons: ... Didn't you want to go back?

The man next to me is smiling like a devil.

The real purpose of having me run around today wasn't to buy time for a surprise.

-- Wouldn't you be happier if you went back?

He toyed with me all day just to dangle that devilish whisper.

Kate: You're really the worst, you know.

Alfons: Oh my, how hurtful.

Kate: If I said I'm leaving the castle and going back to my old life... what would you do with this feast?

Alfons: Of course, I'd have to tearfully eat it all myself.

Alfons: You'd be spared from the tragedy, and I'd just continue dancing merrily as always.

Kate: I see...

Kate: Then... this is my answer.

While staring back into his eyes as he leaned in, I pressed my lips against his.

When I gently bit his lip, Alfons narrowed his eyes.

It was a smile like that of someone watching a kitten playfully biting their fingertip.

Alfons: ... I understand very well.

A whisper melted into the space between our lips, and my breath was taken away again.

Kate: Nn... -Kyah!

He lifted me up like a child and placed me on the dining table, and the napkin on my lap fluttered to the floor.

Alfons: The return for your kiss will be directly on your body.

--CHOICES--

After taking a bath

You have bad manners

After moving to the room

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

Kate: ... On the table? That's... improper...

Alfons: The one being improper is you, seducing me in such a sexy dress.

My protest is ignored as a matter of course, and my entangled hands are pressed against the table.

Alfons: Heh...

Kate: Nn...!

His palm slid through the slit of my dress, slowly crawling up my thigh.

My body jumped, and the wine glass tipped over with a clink.

Alfons: Besides, you already know...

Alfons: ...that I don't have the integrity to value manners, don't you?

Alfons looked down at me as I collapsed onto the table, laughing happily, then stood up and threw off his coat and leather gloves.

The gesture makes me forget where I am, and my body heats up.

(All day, I wanted to see you... my chest aches from longing.)

Kate: ... All day, while I was walking around town, you were all I could think about.

Kate: I kept thinking maybe I'd see you at the next place...

My longing grew so strong that I grabbed his tie and pulled him close.

The weight of him leaning over me filled me with such love that I wanted to cry.

Kate: There's no room for my old life anymore... everything is filled with you.

To be toyed with, manipulated, and then face tragedy in the end...

Kate: What's so bad about tragedy...?

Kate: I'll make you laugh so hard you'll fall over on stage—

Kate: I'll turn it into the most delightful tragedy in the world.

Alfons: ...Hehe, I see. A delightful tragedy, huh?

Alfons: If you're my dance partner, that sounds rather interesting.

Alfons: You know, Kate... In truth, today was all for this.

Memories from the night they met intertwine within their overlapping gazes.

Kate: For this...?

Alfons: Your words just now, the angry look on your face when you burst into this room,

Alfons: The anticipation that, despite being so angry, you dressed up so beautifully for our party,

Alfons: To savor the genuine love that seeps through all of that... That was my aim.

Kate: ...Nn, ah...

His naughty fingertips tickle my skin, lighting a fire in my core.

The place where he pressed his hips against, spreading my legs, was hot and throbbing.

Just like what you said… He, who seemed like an illusion slipping through my fingers, craving my love so greedily,

If he did something as foolish as this,

I'd be so happy, so filled with love, that it would hurt.

(Tell me more. Brand me deeper.)

(Your words, your heat… your truth.)

Alfons: ...Tonight, unlike last time with the cupcakes, you're not saying anything about dinner, are you?

He looked down at me with amusement as I stumbled over my words, my expectations laid bare.

Alfons: What happened to your earlier bravado? Come on, tell me.

Alfons: When two people truly love each other, what do they do... at a time like this?

My heart is pounding so hard it's hard to breathe.

Because beyond the vanished mirage, I can now see your true smile.

Kate: ...D-dinner can wait.

Kate: We... we get messy and make love, that's what.

His thin lips slowly curve into a smile.

Alfons: -Ah, good.

Alfons: Actually, the menu is full of dishes that are delicious even when they're cold.

(W-what...)

Kate: You...you planned this from the start...?

Alfons: Aha! Don't make it sound like I'm just after your body, that's not a nice thing to say.

Kate: It's half true, though...

Alfons: The other half might be sincerity, love, or something like that.

Alfons: Whatever you want to believe is the truth.

An outrageous, good-for-nothing, immoral, and unfaithful man, like a nightmare.

He hates tragedies, loves cats.

Delicious food too... and probably me as well.

That's the Alfons I know—the truth I never want to forget.

Alfons: You won't say you've reached your limit, will you?

Alfons: ...You'll entertain me more, won't you?

-

I don't know if our ending will be a tragedy or a comedy.

But that's what makes a story interesting.

The characters just believe in the ending they want and push forward.

Whether this love is a spice that makes the tragedy more cruel,

Or the key to turning it into a comedy—

The "truth" I want to believe in is already decided.

FIN

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Mad Love Chapter 25 His POV

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[yarrystyleeza]

Always So Good With The Kids, And Kids Absolutely Love Him

Requested by @munsonownsmyass

(so my thoughts on this are soft!matt with the ship dynamic: childhood friends with love interest in each other)

Word count: the range of 1,185 words, utter toothaching fluff like a birthday cake! <3

You loved volunteering for Saint Agnes church, the place you grew up at, as you were raised catholic, you usually went to church on Sundays, and attended all events usually scheduled during the week. You got to know a lot of people, from the children your age to the elderly grandpas, and made a lot of good relationships and connections with them.

You had your own job — which was working perfectly fine for you, but you loved sticking around with the children of the orphanage, their poor small innocent hearts deserved all the care and pamper — that was always your thought about them, and it never changed.

Because you were close with one of them once, growing up, as you attended events with your parents, you got to know the kid who never left the place, Matt Murdock, the blind boy. His father, Battlin' Jack Murdock, died when Matt was only 11, and he had no other place to go, so he was staying at the orphanage attached to the church.

He was the same your age, and he was so locked on himself, but only you managed to get him out of his bubble and open up to you about what he feels about the loss of his father, and the loss of his sight, — by then you've become friends, he found comfort in your company.

He even told you about the abilities he had kept for himself, about how the world felt from his perspective, the way he could hear electricity within the walls, and the sirens on the other side of Hell's Kitchen, how he can always smell your golden retriever on your sweaters, and the lavenders your mother grew by your bedroom window, or how he could taste each chemical the tap water contained; and that was fascinating to you as a kid.

Matt grew up to be a defense attorney, and you pursued your dream of being a journalist, and though your routes went sideways, you still remained friends after all those years, pick up a couple of drinks at the bar, or meet up at a diner in the afternoon.

He kept all his secrets with you, even the darkest of them, he told you about his secret identity, his super abilities, Elektra, and the Hand, — and you were always a keeper, you always listened and understood him, and never judged him, that's why he always looked for you when he's in trouble.

You loved spending Sunday evenings at the orphanage — among children, reading them stories and playing with them, you taught them how to bake and draw, and do the little house chores they can do, — and Matt loved to join you sometimes; he loved children, they were "angels on earth" to him, so he loved being around them, brought them presents, and played with them, — and he admired watching you doing something you loved and cherished.

But this Sunday was special, because it was your birthday, and the idea of spending that day with your little friends was something you would never put down.

The kids surprised you by rounding you in a big circle, singing "Happy Birthday miss y/n" and dancing around you, with little candles held in their little hands, they baked you a heart shaped cake with the help of the sisters, and made little drawings and paper boats as your birthday presents.

You sat on the floor and they sat around you, after crowning you with the glittery golden paper crown they made for you. They gave you their wishes. "miss y/n, I wish you can be a princess!" one of the little girls said, you kissed her temple, "well, katy, I couldn't be a princess, for there's already one here!" you replied as you pointed at her, and she turned into a ball of blush. "I wish you and Mr Murdock get married and have children!" a little boy said, it was your turn to blush, unable to articulate any understandable words out of all the laughter that choked you, you and Matt? Well, this was always on your mind. "umm... thank you, Eddie," that was the only sentence you could say. The kids sat silently with their legs crossed, and had their index fingers on their mouths as a hush, their little hushs rumbled around you. You were confused, about to tilt your head to see what they're staring at, "look at me, miss y/n! I have a present for you!" Eddie yelled at you, he ran to your arms and gave you the biggest hug his small arms could do.

"nice move, Eddie," before you could speak, he had cut you off with a kiss on your cheek, "happy birthday, sweetheart," he rounded you with his arms in a very warm embrace, a one you could sink in and sleep soundly. Matt playfully patted Eddie's chin, "I did what you asked me, Mr Murdock!" he chuckled and kissed Matt on the cheek, "oh, boy, you did!" Matt kissed his head.

"Mr Murdock!" the kids shouted, they hugged him and each gave him a kiss on the cheek; Matt have been always so good with the kids, and they absolutely love him, they even team together against you in games!

"what a great surprise, Matt. Didn't you have plans today?" you stated, as he fixed his posture next to you, folding his legs, "how could I miss a day so precious to me?" he answered with a question and a cocky smile, you huffed a chuckle and rolled your eyes.

"this was my plan for the day" he unwrapped the gift he brought to you, it was your all time favorite novel, signed by the author themselves, you swallowed a gasp, "Matt, you..." your words got stuck in your throat, "how could I forget something like that? You've always talked about how much you love that book, and let's say I had to meet the author privately, for him to write you a message..." you couldn't help but jump at him with a hug, and he secured you in his arms, "maybe you wanna go out with me tonight? Discuss Eddie's suggestions?" he soothed your cheek, drawing circles at your chin, "I'd love to," you pecked his lips quickly, and all the kids went "Yuck!!" and "Ew!!", you both laughed and continued on the little celebration the kids held, ate the cake, and sang together.

At the end of the day, the kids gathered around Matt, he kissed each on the crowns of their heads, "thank you for watching out for my girl, Eddie," he squatted to reach the boy's height, "you're welcome, mr Murdock... Are you bringing your baby next Sunday?" Matt chuckled, "that would be a great idea, right, y/n?" your eyes widened, "Matt!" you yelled, face red flushed, he giggled, "I guess she liked it."

The years went by and you and Matt got to have your very own children, but you never stopped going to the orphanage together, just to watch the little innocent hearts grow, and make new memories with the new kids.

Ayyyy, I'm so sorry for the late posting on this one, like I mentioned in an earlier post my internet connection was wobbly and I couldn't blog my own long posts (fics specifically) but now that the problem is fixed, here's your request...

Tell me what you think about this! And thanks for dropping the prompt! <3

Feel free to submit a prompt from this list in my ask (I only write for Matt Murdock)! <3

[fanficfanattic]

I want to be clear that this is not an attack on anyone or any group. It isn’t a call to action. It isn’t an accusation of ableism.

It is a lament.

The fun thing about being autistic is that it is not an excuse to fuck up within other marginalized communities. I fully believe that. But it absolutely affects how you interact with the world. And so it also does with said groups.

It’s already hard to explain that you think you are going from A to B to C* . It’s how your brain works. But you recognize that your disabled fucking brain is capable of being wrong. That level of self-doubt seems to me to be the heart of being autistic. The default setting is that you are wrong. (At least for things that are social behaviors or norms. If it is one of my special interests I will plant myself firmly.)

So when someone else says you actually went over to numbers and then came back to the alphabet on F. You believe them. You don’t understand how though. And is it someone else’s job to point it out? Depends on whether you subscribe to “you are your brother’s keeper”. Generally I think the answer is no, it isn’t their job. And if they go to the trouble of helping me with that, I view it as a gift. I thank people for it.

I also don’t think anyone has to do me the honor of witnessing me process and integrate new information. No one owes me anything. But it is a hard thing to do and being told your effort is wrong? That you’re doing it wrong and are going to be punished for it?

It’s devastating. It is also just another day that ends in Y. Cause that is so often the response from society as a whole. And then also specifically to whom you are directly conversing with. Double whammy of being reminded your brain is broken (by current standards). But told as though that is something you have done by choice.

Is the fact that it is devastating anyone else’s problem? No. I cannot emphasize enough that I know my issues are in fact my issues. That’s why this isn’t pointed at anyone. The only person it ever applies to is myself.

I suspect that this reads as defensive. And maybe it is! I am not an accurate gauge of that and trusting non-disabled people to tell me is just me tilting at the same windmill over and over.

If you think that saying this is once again the wrong thing to do, I’d ask that you just mute or block me. I don’t begrudge or judge for needing to take care of yourself. But I won’t apologize for trying to take care of myself.

I am sorry that this derailed people’s days. That what I thought I was communicating was hurtful. Hurting others is one of the things I wake up and make an active decision that I don’t want to do that. I choose kindness whenever I can.

Impact is more important than intent. But ‘more important’ doesn’t mean the other has no place. And, again, if you disagree with that sentiment you can keep the concept from coming across your dash by blocking me. I support you making a healthy decision for yourself.

Normally I embrace my disabilities**. I know that I can see connections that others can’t or won’t follow. But that can create something beautiful when it comes together. I love being able to talk about my special interests with an intensity most people lack. I’m not ashamed of being autistic. I love myself as a whole ass person.

But as a person who always, always has to grow. I think that all white people (myself included) are racist overtly and/or implicitly. In America specifically but also most of the high white population colonized Crown locations. We grow up in a world that inundates you with false, negative “facts” about BIPOC people and equally untrue, positive “facts” about whiteness. We can and should push back on that social structuring. But it’s got tendrils that infect all aspects of life. We have to keep seeing and looking for the rot and dig it out.

All of that applies to us autistics. How we do that often looks different than how neurotypical people go about it. But isn’t that the whole point?

[purplerose244]

My thoughts on Ninjago the Island!!! 🏝🏝🏝

So, gotta be honest... this is not a Blind reaction thing, I actually watched it in French first so I know most of the stuff already 😅 It's entertaining, it got great animation, but nothing more than that in my opinion 🤷‍♀️

Still there is stuff I liked or I want to point out, and finally I'm seeing the English version so I can actually understand what the HECK they are saying 🤩

Alright, nothing else to say, here we go!

UNCHARTED

I haven't actually seen anything Clutch Powers related before Ninjago, is he always like this? I love that he is a jerk honestly, just wondering 😂

Press F for respect for intern Dwaine (at least he seems to like being... used?)

Clutch: It's just a bunch of rocks! It's not alive!

Totem: I'm about to end this man's whole career

Wait, Misako is part of the explorers club? ... that would have come in handy in season 11 to get the scroll of Forbitten Spinjitzu from the club instead of begging uncle Powers for it... *sighs* I don't mind plot holes in Ninjago like most fans I think, but if you wanna make Misako relevant again at least pay attention to the details 😅

Wow, after the end of season 13 I would've thought Wu was going to go through a midlife crisis, not Misako 😂😂

Oww, everytime I hear I get 😢 Bless your soul Kirby, always in our hearts 🖤🖤🖤

Well hello Brian

Always nice to see you 😊

Twitchy Tim must have been pretty interesting to voice 🤔 I like him enough, he's fun and all, maybe not at the level of the characters we got last season

Okay, the place is called the STORM belt, there are LIGHTNINGS, and the sand of the beach is BLUE. Are we gonna address any of these similarities to our Bluebell here or not? 😅

Wait, Tim was giving a hot air balloon tour, does that mean other people where with him? What of them? Are they dead? Did he let them die on the island?... am I reading too much into this? Probably 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Alright, the part of the boats? SO COOL 🤩🤩 I literally can't say anything bad about the animation at this point

Why did they think leaving Kai, Jay and Cole on one boat was going to be a good idea 😂 Also Zane just randomly doing sick tricks on his vehicle, love that nindroid

I'm guessing Nya is keeping her water abilities for her season 🤷‍♀️

Yep, yep, this is why the creators try to keep Pixal out of the adventures, with her everything is way too cool and easy to access to 😎😎

Twitchy Tim: There are statues that become alive!!

Lloyd:... so it's a season 2 stone army ripoff, we've seen worse

It's a cute episode overall 👍

THE KEEPERS OF THE AMULET

OKAY THE INTRO IS SO FREAKING COOL 🤩🤩🤩🤩

So Twitchy Tim has temporarily taken over Jay's role of spazzing out and complain about worse case scenarios... in another occasion they might have bonded over this, maybe 😂

Okay, survival position? MOOD

Nya: DRAGOOON 😱

Me: DRAGOOOOOOON 😍😍😍

Why am I not surprised that Jay was the one that named him Zippy? 💙 Also HE'S SO CUTE 💕💕💕 Love how in every adventure, we always get very different types of dragon in this show 👌 I'm a simple person, I see a dragon... 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

Oh-oh, it's the "Lloyd's done with this crap"'s face

This means serious business... am I that used to LEGO characters that this way of crossing arms on the chest looks almost normal to me? 😅

Soooo, Master of the Mountain clearly gave Cole too much development... because now he got demoted to "the one who is always hungry" 🤦‍♀️ I'm all for Cole's endearing love for cakes, which is super relatable, but if you're gonna push it on his fun side, at least be coherent 🙃

Is it just me or it feels like the writing of this special was made by someone different from the one of season 13? Like, it's not bad, just less engaging and witty. For now. Maybe I'm being premature 🤷‍♀️

New way of nerfing powers, we got... weird, sucking power totem thingies... OKAY

My gosh I really can't say anything about the animation, look at that! It's all cinematic with such a light! YES!! 🤩

I'M SORRY

WHY ARE WE LOOKING OVER THIS??? IT LOOKS LIKE COLE'S LAVA PUNCHES BUT THEY ARE JAY LIGHTNING FEET??? IT'S A GREAT IDEA AND I WOULD LOVE TO SEE IT AGAIN??? WHY ARE WE IGNORING THIS??? 💙💙💙💙

So they at least addressed that lightning isn't a Jay's thing only anymore 😅

Alright, Jay having a mental breakdown because of a bridge because it always breaks, that's the Bluebell I know and love 😂😂 Nya telling him to keep moving was cute too 💙❤💙❤

Okay, I'm sorry but this really bothers me, what kind of lightning can instantly knock out the MASTER OF LIGHTNING??? Like, my gosh, really??? I hope they give us an explanation, like it's some sort of special lightning, because this really doesn't sit right with me. Jay is lightning proof, we've seen it in Skybound, we've seen it in Sons of Garmadon, I DON'T BELIEVE HE WOULD JUST BE KNOCKED OUT LIKE THAT 😡😡😡

Soooooo, storm amulet? Being one with the lightning? Is that the reason why Jay got to be the sacrifice? 😅

THE GIFT OF JAY

Alright, I am kinda looking forward for this one, what did Bluebell actually say or do to get him into trouble this time 😂😂

Oh, he just... introduced himself... well that was underwhelming

SENSEI👏YOU👏ARE👏A👏FREAKING👏GOD👏STOP👏GETTING👏KIDNAPPED👏BY👏RANDOM👏VILLAINS👏

Bring ooooon Lloyd Grills 💪

Okay I did like the little speech, definitely resonates with how Lloyd survived this long even though everything wanted him to give up, even his father... I'M NOT CRYING YOU'RE CRYING 😭

Jay out there making the real questions 😂

Awwww Edna used to call him gift of Jay? I can totally see it, so cute 💙💙 Makes even more sense if Libber actually left Jay at the Walkers' door...

Pff, Jay made the connection I would've done honestly 🤷‍♀️ Like, him being the master of lightning really didn't give these dudes any impression or inspiration? Any cool idea, full Road of El Dorado style? 🙃🙃

Lloyd out there abusing of the animation budget 💚💚💚

Somehow these ninja never actual sneak in, it's always a huge mess everyone knows about beforehand 😂 It's familiar though, I'm used to it and happy with it 👍

I might not be the biggest Misako fan, but you know what I am a fan of?

LEGO HUGS 😍😍😍😍😍

Dang it uncle Powers, you just got here to make a mess did you 😅

Not the first person of the fandom to say this, but Jay looks absolutely lovely with that flower crown 🌺🌺🌺

Oh poor greenie

Lloyd just has the worst luck 😓

Jay: Why would I be the gift?

Kai: Yeah who would want Jay?

Nya: Huh, me?? 😡

Got some very good Jaya for this little special, can't complain 💙❤💙❤

I mean, not matter how big of a snake Wojira might turn out to be, we've already seen the biggest and the second biggest snake of all so 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Whoa, at last... IT WAS THE FIRST SPINJITZU MASTER THAT HAD SOMETHING HE SHOULD'VE TOLD WU A LONG TIME AGO!! 😱 Wu, you got pulled a Wu, how does it feel? 😂

Again, Jay freaking out, kinda my jam it's too funny 💙💙

Wow Kai way to be hominous offscreen 👏👏 I miss talking about my flame babe, this really isn't his time 🤷‍♀️

THE TOOTH OF WOJIRA

So when I first watched this I was genuinely, really excited about knowing the truth behind all this. It turned out very different from what I first thought, but at least in this case it's okay (besides I was pushing with the lightning meaning just to see Libber again 😅😅😅)

I feel like the guys get their powers stolen or blocked so much it takes them a minute to remember "Oh wait I can literally burn my way out" 🤷‍♀️

SPINJITZU YAY 🤩

I... forgot that Misako knows how to fight 😅 She knows how to do spinjitzu too if I remember correctly...

NYA BEING LIKE "OUT OF THE WAY IMMA SAVE MY BOYFRIEND AGAIN" ❤💙❤💙

Gotta love how they were all crazy worried about Jay, like, this is something that never changes through the show. They really care so so much for each other 💕💕💕

Ooohhhh, okay, so Wojira does seem to be the main villain of next season according to the story. I remember Tommy saying that we needed to have faith and this is probably why. The special was okay, nothing too much, and hopefully that too much we will see in Nya's season 😍😍😍

What the- pff, I didn't notice this the first time 😂

At this point I can't tell if that one short with the chicken of the movie carried a hate or a love for chickens in the actual show 😂😂

Nice to see Jay standing up for himself at least for a little while 💪 Also Lloyd being "He's our trouble", aww family 💜

THERE IT IS

MY BRUISE HEART IS SOARING 🖤💙🖤💙

Gotta give props to the voice actors, voicing an explanation while fighting must be pretty hard! WE ARE BLESSED WITH AN AMAZING CAST!!! 🤩🤩🤩

And there he is, our favorite jerk... shaved Ronin 😂 He does look a little weird, but it's fair, new animation and all. Not the weirdest until now 🤷‍♀️

I genuinely had to make a mental check to see where we are with Ronin now, like, he started as a villain, then a partner, he betrayed us, became an ally, he hunted the ninja, then joined them, that timeline was erased, he was around in SoG and... wow this man is chaotic 😂😂

Yaaaay, Twitchy's last minute redemption act! Lloyd is too good at motivational speeches 👏👏

A bit of Lava OTP/BrOTP

Cause it's good for the heart ❤🖤❤🖤

Okay, Scooby doo reference, why not? Also honestly, I'm confident Ronin has seen A LOT of jails and prisons... probably won't stay behind bars for long 😅

Mammatus: sorry for imprisoning you and almost killing your friend

Kai: no biggie, that's how we make friends in this show

Alright the "And Clutch Powers" gag made me chuckle 😂 ... wait where is he- DANG IT UNCLE POWERS

Okay, this is the last time I say it I promise, but I mean. I MEAN

THE ANIMATION GUYS 😍😍😍

Aaaaand sensei you jinxed it 😅 But you apparently awakened Nya's season so I'm gonna forgive you on this one 😉

FINAL THOUGHTS

There are a few little details that bothered me a little, and it wasn't as exciting as I maybe hoped it was going to be, but it was fine. Enjoyable still. These characters make me like the show, even when it got nothing too impactful 🤷‍♀️

But I got triggered about that lightning thing with Jay 😅 I guess I'll just fanfic whatever I had in mind...

Don't have to repeat myself about the animation *chef's kiss*

The writing was really less engaging, a little normal in a way? Idk just a feeling. Nice to see Ronin again though, I really like him. And nice to see Jay freaking out, I really like that too 😂

To be honest I wanted to put down my thoughts on this one because I REALLY wanna do the same with Nya's season 🤩🤩 I already know that Maya is gonna be there and I am so HAPPY already!!! 💙💙💙

So that's it from me! Thank you for reading me ranting, see you next season! 😊

[ansxit]

Vive La Revolution

"ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ. ɪf ᴡᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴠᴏʟᴜᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ. ᴡᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴏɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ."

(Y/n) was always loyal to Essemp. For clarification, She is the cousin to the young ruler of their nation, Clay. He wasn't the fairest ruler, but he still cherished his land and his friends. (Y/n) would always stand by her cousin's side whenever skirmishes and war broke throughout the kingdom.

Until she happened to fall for the leader of a revolution.

—

03 - Spionage

When you awoke, you were startled to find yourself under the soft sheets of your bed. Bright beams of sunlight shown through the open windows and your curtains drifted lazily through the breeze. You slowly got up, noticing you were still dressed in your blue gown from the night before.

On your bedside table sat a letter, followed by a petal of your favorite flower. You smiled and picked up the parchment, immediately recognizing Wilbur's messy handwriting. The ink was splotched in a few places, probably from having to write in candlelight.

"Y/n," the note read.

"I believe you owe me twice now, seeing as I had to carry you down three flights of stairs, it was rather tiring and I expect to be showered with total admiration and half of your plate at breakfast later this morning.

With care, Wilbur"

You smiled at his request and opened up the drawer. Inside were many different letters, organized by person and importance. You nearly folded the note and placed it with the rest of the messages Wilbur has sent to you. You also grabbed the petal of (f/f), and placed it in an empty jar sitting off to the side. A light knock on the door caught your attention, and one of your handmaidens walked in.

"Princess Y/n," she greeted with a curtsy. "King Dream has requested that you make your way down for breakfast."

You've always thought the name to be ridiculous. The name "Dream" doesn't really strike fear into anyone's hearts. It was a stupid nickname given to him since childhood because Clay always had his head stuck in the clouds. He was imaginative, creating stories to tell to You, Nick, and George.

"Of course, thank you," You smiled at the handmaiden and she backed out of your room. You made your way to the wardrobe and grabbed a forest green blouse and chestnut brown trousers. Once you were finished getting dressed, you started making your way down to the dining hall.

The suite halls were unusually empty, they're usually bustling with activity. Disturbed by the quiet, you looked around to see where your handmaiden went. Luck wasn't on your side this morning however, because she was nowhere to be found.

With a shrug, you started to head down to the dining hall, your footsteps echoing as you went.

*

The red seats in the hall were filled with lords and high ranked soldiers, all of who were laughing and joyously eating their meals. Plates and platters of food covered every square inch of the mahogany table as the bright sunlight filtered through the glass windows.

Clay was nowhere to be found at the table, and neither were George or Nick. It wasn't often that Clay chose to skip meals, especially with the room so full, but it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for him.

You recognized some soldiers from your battalion, the ones who didn't need any immediate care, sitting along the table. Some gorging themselves on food, others sharing laughs with their comrades, and some both. As you passed many of them started clapping and cheering, but it was just swept into the sea of other voices. All clamoring over each other, like an arrangement of which could be the loudest and prominent.

In the far back of the room to the left of your empty seat, you could spot Wilbur lounging around with a bored expression. He was dressed in a white collared shirt with the first three buttons unbuttoned, and had his left arm hooked around the chair. His right hand was fiddling with the silverware, as he just stared at the mahogany table.

A lord to his right, dressed in a black admiral jacket with yellow decor, made eye contact with you heartily nudged his shoulder. Wilbur barely looked over at him and gave the brunet a half smile before turning back to his plate. The lord, Ponk, you recognized, shoved Wilbur again and threw his head in your direction. The brunet snapped his gaze towards you and a goofy run spread across his face almost instantly.

You picked up the pace a bit as you neared the end of table. Usually you could hear the drag of wood against wood, the echoing sound followed by the kings voice allowing people to begin eating. But instead laughter filled the joyous hall and the wooden noise was lost. Wilbur had tried to hide his goofy grin by a smug one.

"Y/n," he chastised, "I'm disappointed, truly, it isn't much like you to wake up so late is it? Especially since today is such an important day." The stupidly cute grin on his face told you he was just teasing, and it couldn't help but make you smile back.

"Oh I'm terribly sorry your grace," You bowed your head in a mock-apology. "I was up all night because a devilishly attractive bard snuck into my quarters and, well we had a lovely chat together." The tips of Wilbur's ears flushed pink and he hmmed while looking back at his empty plate. "You mentioned today was important, pray tell what for?"

"Well, if you can recall, Clay wanted to throw a banquet in celebration of capturing the leader of the revolts," Wilbur lazily fiddled with one of the many spoons at the table. "He told me last night 'bout it and we have that to deal with by the next week."

"It's just a party though," You grabbed one of the many bread rolls out of a wicker basket. "How does that make today special?" Wilbur gave a forced grin at you while you stuffed a roll in your mouth.

"That part isn't what's special, Y/n," Wilbur's usual mischievousness had returned and he grabbed your hand from across the table. "The exciting part is we get to finally continue with the Spionage."

Your heart skipped several beats. The Spionage was a passion project you and Wilbur had been working on for as long as you two had been friends. It was an elite group of soldiers picked out from just about anywhere that would be another inner circle to protect the crown. Clay had been putting multiple pauses on the plans, obsessively picking out every flaw. The revolts didn't help either, and it had been nearly half a year since you were able to work on it.

But the last time you had the chance, Clay finally gave it his approval: All that was needed left was the people to vigorously train for it. Wilbur said he already had some soldiers in mind; he was more in on the people finding than you- You were the strategic designer and executioner, not a social keeper.

"I already have the potentials waiting in the training yard." Wilbur's nonstop smile was mirroring your own now. "They're just waiting for us."

You quickly stood up from the dining chair, not bothering to tidy the silverware. "Lets go then," You had to restrain yourself from shouting in joy. "C'mon, hurry, hurry, hurry!" Wilbur reflected the growing excitement and you both took off towards the training grounds.

The guards in the far back of the room opened the doors for you both as you passed, giving their respective, yet hesitant bows. It appears seeing the stoic Princess and her closest friend running through the castle was a foreign event.

The halls were quiet again once the doors had closed, the laughter and chatter amongst people had faded out. All you could hear was the birds chirping outside and the sound of footsteps against the marble floors. The dining hall was only a few halls away from the training grounds, hidden in the far back of the palace. It resembled a Colosseum in a way, where observers could watch the knights train and place bets on the best knight there.

When You were younger, you were known as one of the best fighters in the land. Having bested both Clay and the Prince of an old neighboring kingdom in hand-to-hand combat and sword fighting. When you were in your early teens and met Wilbur, he was one of the first people to be able to disarm you in a fight. Although technically he cheated his way through by distracting you, but he would argue he never did such a thing in the fight.

After the day was over, you instantly recruited him in your ranks and the rest was self explanatory. You worked with each other for years in end, building friendships and being in charge of Essemp's strongest military. Which is why Spionage was so important; Essemp had many soldiers willing to sacrifice themselves for the kingdom but in the palace, knights like Schlatt, assassins, double-crossers could sneak in and murder the royal family without notice. The castle- no,You needed people who were headstrong, willing to take what they wanted, and also a great leader and comrade. People who are able to work together and someone who you could trust with your life. You needed more people like,

"Wilbur?" Your voice rang though the empty halls. You two had slowed to a walk, your hands still linked together.

"Yeah?" Wilbur glanced at you from the side, his grip on your fingers tightening just slightly.

"The revolution, Schlatt, they gave up too easily. Don't you think?" You felt a cold chill down your spine when remembering how the very man you're talking about was a few thousand feet below you. The catacombs ran deep under the kingdom, built upon an old structure to another realm. "I mean, all this buildup to our meeting with them, and for it to be over so quick- it doesn't feel right."

"Y/n," Wilbur had stopped and placed a warm hand on your shoulder. "You don't need to worry about these things, we captured their leader and the majority of their troops. There's not much else they can do." His brown eyes that were usually full of mischief had hints of regret in them, like he was holding something back from you. "We can rest easy, especially once we finish Spionage, we'll never have to feel threatened again." He gave a reassuring smile but it still didn't quite reach his eyes.

"How can you be certain?" You held his gaze for a minute longer before dropping your head. He didn't respond, and interlocked your hands again. You knew you wouldn't get any sure answer from him, so you both continued through the halls to the soldiers grounds. "I suppose your right, but I think the only thing I have to worry about is your judge of character." You winked at him and started into a brisk pace. "Lets hurry up, I want to finish this before dinner."

-

The midday sun shone brightly over the field and the soldiers all stood proudly in front of you. With their heads raised high and shoulders lifted, they held the perfect prep stance. You stalked the rows slowly, making direct eye contact with everyone standing there. Wilbur watched from the pedestal in front of the troops, watching you judge each and every person.

Most of them averted their gaze, deciding to look past you or up at the sky. It was rare to find soldiers willing to bite back at their superiors, majority of them being bootlickers and following orders.

Two soldiers in particular caught your attention, one obscenely tall, close to Wilbur's height, and lanky enough to look like a gust of wind would knock him over. His bright blue eyes held your stare and he struggled to maintain the stoic faces of the soldiers around him. He'd fidget ever so often, either his grip tightening on the stone sword you'd passed out, or shifting on his feet. He might've looked out of place with the battle-ridden troops around him, but he was prepared and on alert.

In a row a few behind him, the second soldier was shorter than most, and his stance not as confident as the others, but he held your gaze with unwitting determination. You could barely see his face underneath the iron helm much too big for him and his long brown hair that desperately needed a trim, but everything about him shown he was built for fighting.

You walked back to Wilbur, almost disappointed. None of the soldiers here except for save 10 out of the 60 Wilbur found were what you were looking for. They were all perfect soldiers, no doubt: But this was supposed to be different from the battalions you send to wars.

"Find anyone?" Wilbur asked, getting up from leaning against the podium and turning his head away from the soldiers.

"Rows 1 and 6 look like they belong in a daycare," You crossed your arms and squinted at the people a good twenty feet away from you. "The girl with pink hairs got major bite though, she'd be nice to have around." Said girl was about as tall as the brown haired kid- and she held herself so easily. Like she could blast open a skull and then go right back to carrying normal conversation. Nervousness was hidden deep in her eyes but gave an overall positive demeanor.

"Seven seems fine to me," Wilbur muttered and you're gaze flittered over to someone with a buzz cut and sunglasses obstructing your view of their eyes. His stance was the same as every other soldier, he looks like someone you'd see on the battlefield that just blends in. But there might be character Wilbur sees that you haven't had the chance to yet. The guy's jaw ticked and you could tell straight through the glasses he knew he was being scrutinized. You could see it now, how his stance changed to something more prepared—more battle-ready. "Yeah, he seems alright." You looked at Wilbur with a set smile, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations Wil, you found some pretty decent people."

"Decent?" Wilbur scoffed, "I'll have you know I watched these people train for hours on end while you were up in a study. They're more than decent I'd say."

"Then say you shall." You smirked at him then formally faced the rows. Around 100 people stood inform of you, all waiting for your next directions. "Soldiers, split into groups of five and line up at the respective archways of the Colosseum!" Wilbur flicked a lever by the main gate and the iron bars boarding the exits opened with a creaky noise.

"On our signal a good old game of capture the arrow will begin, only this time," You held out the gold-tipped arrow in your hand, "Team battle royal, show no mercy to the others and eliminations will continue as the games go on." The soldiers looked at each other in a slight panic and the podium Wilbur and You had been standing on began to rise to the audience section.

"Let the games begin!" Wilbur hollered.

[not-bumbles-guthrie]

When The Beasts Run Wild

A weird choice for a first tumblr post but alas! I must undermine expectation! If you’re unlucky enough to be interested in reading this, here’s a little description:

In a deserted environment, brutalized by nuclear fallout, we find Cherry. She’s a quiet, nihilistic young woman plagued by the knowledge that she has lived her entire life in the remains of a society that no longer exists. The story follows her as her fellow survivors celebrate the Summer Solstice. Unfortunately, more seems to be at hand as it dawns upon Cherry and her lover that the world might be ending soon.

When it came to the explosion, no one imagined it would lead to the downfall of humanity. It would lead us to a return to order, an acoustic version of the world the humans had created. They would no longer be a part of it. It was a strange concept to grow used to as the days passed, and people were eaten at by the radiation. Of course, there were people that ran to the nuclear hostels, the ones hidden deep in the underbelly of Mother Earth. Yet, they talk of those places being overrun. One person says they were there when the President was found, slumped over. She’d also been killed by the radiation from the second blast. The person who told me this would die too in the coming weeks. Her face was bloodied when she took her last breath, shaky and demure. Then, with a flourish, she sucked in one last time, as hard as she could, and breathed out, “Fin!” While she didn’t have the strength for that exclamation point, I like to imagine her enthusiasm behind it is deserving of the emphasis.

Dogs run free now. If I had to take a guess on who ruled the expanse of land Mother left us, it would be them. She seems to have made them impervious to the air, to the invisible killer. Then again, we believe that she made us impervious to the same air. Perhaps we are just lucky, though. The dogs are destined. Eventually, we will die out. I don’t think the same can be said about the puppies, with their floppy ears and jovial smiles that cut through the particles.

I toss a piece of my flatbread to the yappy pup at my ankle. Her name is Annika, after Queenie’s grandmother who survived the first blast only to die because of the second one. She isn’t my dog; unlike most of the people here, I don’t choose dogs. They find me, visit me, and then they drift away either to their human companions or back to the dust and decay. Mother Earth would’ve blessed me with one if She wanted me to tend to a dog. They are Her chosen successors, after all. I’m merely here to die and be eaten by one of them when the time comes for my body to return to Mother through a dog’s shit that will hopefully make this land fertile once more.

Or maybe it won’t. Who fucking cares? It’s not like there’s a 9 a.m. office job to attend or a peewee football game to cheer on my snot-nosed kids at. There’s the dogs, the open sores, the radiation, and Mother Earth. That’s all. Those are the last things a human will ever know.

I used to ponder what the limits of humanity would be. I thought I would see the end of it, and that ending would be magical. We would finally know what the finality of the human brain was, what its capacity was. However, it’s become quickly apparent that in my eighteen years, nothing will ever show me that capacity. This is the capacity. The height of human invention and creativity? Its own destruction. How poetic. And to think, I was a baby and I missed it all.

It’s weird, living in a sarcophagus of time. I know everything about a culture that is dead. A species that is dead. Soon, I will be dead too. I’ve been told, by a doctor who lives in the camp, that most of us will only make it another 15 years. Maybe I’ll make it longer, he said, because I miraculously survived the first two blasts before the age of five. If I didn’t die then, perhaps I’m meant to last long enough to outlive the cancers and the ARS. Personally, I don’t think he was a very smart doctor. Even I know that’s not how radiation works. Put simply, I will be dead. It’s only a matter of when Mother Earth decides to reclaim me.

Father sits in The Temple when I return with Annika. The growth of what few flowers and vegetables can be produced in this climate surround him, billowing at his feet. His toenails were kissed by the vines of the potatoes, which had grown gnarly like his bunions. Father was a sight for sore eyes, with the fallout aging him past his years. He deserved to have a big, great white beard, but alas. All he had to show for his near two decades of turmoil was a small patch of growth on his face. He no longer had a full head of hair, and the sores on his skull near his neck opened daily with each movement. That’s what filled my vision as I walked towards him, as his head was bowed in prayer.

“Father,” came out soft and trembling. I cleared my throat. No need for that.

“Any news? Has Her Graciousness spoken to you?”

He spoke about Mother with a reverence that no one in the group possessed. He worshipped her. My mouth became dry, and its taste made me nauseated. There was nothing to report. Mother Earth had never spoken to me. She never spoke to him, why would that change with me?

“Yes, Father. She has.”

His eyes widened, pupils dilating as he took in more light. Blue rhinestones. “What did She tell you?”

I glared at Annita, nudging my head to snap back and tell her to kindly fuck off. The stupid animal simply sat there and stared at me. I rolled my eyes. “Stupid girl,” I muttered before looking Father in his eyes. “Mother Earth tells me that we will be safe for the coming Solstice.”

We had no idea if the Summer Solstice was close or not, actually. We assumed, based on the markings Monsignor Karl had kept for the past nineteen years since the first blast knocked out the power grid in the eastern hemisphere. He was the original Keeper, passing on the reins to Ingrid after he passed. It was hard to watch him go, as the cancer overtook him. For the last weeks, he did nothing but bleed from his mouth. Thanks to him, we are able to honor Mother. Kind of.

“That’s a good girl. Thank you, Cherry.”

I nodded in response, bowing at Father, before walking away. Annita followed me, yipping as we made our way to Camp. Ingrid acknowledged me with a demure nod as I passed her. She wore an ornate necklace, one that was found through scavenging when the Monsignor was still alive, that held a long-stopped pocket watch as its pendant. It was the Monsignor. It ran for the first few weeks following the Chernobyl incident, before the battery finally died. It was what helped him keep the time in the first days. Now, Ingrid wore it to simply mark herself as a special one. She could study sun patterns and tell you the approximate time of day, which made her invaluable, especially when it came down to times like the Solstices. These days, though, she seemed to be slipping up more and more. It made sense, given she was always awake when I woke up for my nightly leak. She had to be tired after being up half the night.

“Hey,” I called out before plopping myself down in front of her sundial.

“Hey yourself. Your shadow is fucking up my clock.”

That was all I needed before I was brushing myself off and moving away from Gritty. It was no matter; she was routinely not in the mood to fuck around. “Talk to you later, precious. Perhaps I’ll visit you on your nightly ‘stare at the sky’ session?”

“Fuck you,” came from behind me as I walked away. “Go concoct more lies.”

The last part came out quietly, as a small tease. My body froze up at first, with my back to her, but I could hear her chuckling in the annoying way she would. I flipped her off before turning into the tent that held our food. Dinner, it appeared, was served.

The small feast consisted of grains, including sunflower seeds, and bits of wild strawberry. For the group of ten people, it would barely make us feel full, but it was enough to satisfy the Itch. When your stomach lining is eaten away for so long, even a smidge of food does away with the Itch for a few. It would at least let us sleep until the Sun came up, flooding us with the blessings of Mother. Ingrid sat across from me, kicking at my shins when she caught me staring at her plate, which was empty but for a bit of juice stain from the strawberries.

“Perv,” she said with as much menace as love. Her smirk told me everything.

I rolled my eyes, playing with my ponytail, wrapping it around the ends of my finger. Perv. It rang over and over in my mind. So what? Was how I wanted to respond. I didn’t, though. My throat stopped me. My heart stopped me.

“Thank you for this blessed bounty, Mother Earth,” Father’s voice rang out.

“Thank you, Mother,” we whispered in a low baritone. Our heads were bowed over our empty plates.

“We worship you for saving us, Lover. Thank you for blessing us with eternal servitude to you. We will cleanse your Home, Wife,” Father continued with our heads dipping further towards our empty plates. There was a small clang as my glasses hit the edge of the ceramic. Gritty kicked at me again. I almost giggled.

This was my moment. I knew this. I had practiced this countless times. I raised my head to see the crown of Ingrid’s head, and I stopped for a minute. Her dark hair caught the last rays of the sun, and I was blinded. My voice cracked as I started us all in, singing, “Danke- Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen.”

“Thank you for all the joy you bring,” everyone started in on the second line, holding their hands out to each other.

Miss Fieri grabbed my hand. Her painted red nails scratched at my palm, and the old hole in the corner of her lip caught my eye as I faced her. Her face sagged, and her eyeliner was smudged. It was a miracle she had any. To my right, Monsignor Karl’s son, Vlad, sat though I had to reach out to wrap my palm around his amputated wrist. He smiled as he sang the lines, “Save those lies, darling, don’t explain.” It was strange to think about the fact that Mother blessed him with the stupid mustache the twinkled with as we sat there, singing. Yet, he was too stupid to become the next Keeper. That’s why we have Gritty.

Across from me, Gritty winked at me. She nodded at my hand on Vlad’s stump, and I knew what she was doing. Who’s the perv now? I thought. I relinquished my smile, giving her a disappointed nod. “Get your head out of the gutter,” I mouthed while Queenie fucked up the “Auf wiedersehen” despite the fact that her mother is from Germany. Dumbass. Gritty caught my look towards Queenie, smiling. She flipped her hair, impersonating the prima donna. I held in my laughter, smiling at her. I shook my head again, but this time in appreciation.

Then, I saw Father’s gaze. His eyes narrowed, brows furrowed so that the long spindly hairs were more apparent. His scar across his face was terrifying enough without the expression. I avoided looking him in the eye for a reason. My mouth formed a thin line in response. I bowed my head, and we finished the hymnal for Mother. We let go of each other’s hands to our lips, kissing our hands, and shooting the kisses towards the ground. Oppa and Kyle gave small whoops and hollers as the old woman and the young man hugged each other. I watched them closely, noting the miracle of their friendship.

“Thinking about the time you fucked him?”

“Fuck you, Gritty. It was four years ago.”

“We all know how formative that was for you.”

“You fucked him too. Shut up.”

“You know we’re supposed to fuck him again.”

“Yeah,” I whispered as we walked further from the tent. Oppa and Kyle went their separate ways, with the kind old woman heading to her tent, wrapped in her shawl she swears Stevie gave her. Kyle appeared to be more preoccupied with the new girl we picked up. Her name was Cola. Like the soda. She was his new toy. She was only fifteen, but she told Father she hadn’t lost her virginity yet. We were supposed to give her unto Mother soon because of that. I don’t know why she bothered to stay. I suppose the food alone is worth it, maybe the dogs. She’s only been here a week and she already found a little dachshund to be her companion. She’s taken to calling him Nilla. Gritty and I passed them, and I gave Nilla a little pat on the head as he came up to my ankles and pushed his nose against me.

“Do you think they’ll force us to do it when we hold the Ceremony for her?” I asked once we were out of earshot.

“Probably. Father is known for liking convenience,” She responded quietly. Her tone was melancholic.

We found our way out of the light of the camp fires. I scooped her hand into mine. “That’s true. It’s been too long since the last time.”

“I don’t know why we’re supposed to wait until the Solstice.”

“It’s because it’s spring. Fertility and all that shit.”

“Isn’t sex supposed to be sacred? What does the time period have to do with that?”

“I don’t know, man. Stop asking such stupid questions.” I let go of her hand, picking up a stick instead.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Just because you don’t want Mother’s babies doesn’t mean you gotta be a dick because I’m asking questions.”

“It’s not that, and you know it, Grit.”

“Then what is it, Cher?”

I rolled my eyes, facing away from her. “It’s easier to just do this shit than think about why it makes no sense.” It was as close of an answer I could give.

“Yeah, but doesn’t it kill you that Mother Earth says it’s just a sacred act but instead we treat it like this fucking parade that happens once a year. Sometimes twice, if Kyle doesn’t get his jizz in us.” Her head was cocked to the side as she studied me. We stopped at the edge of the woods like we always did. We knew no one could see us all the way out here. They just assumed we were playing in the woods, as we had since kids. Not questioning the basis of our existence. I threw the stick into the woods, hearing a small yelp from some animal. Probably a cat, from the sound. “I just…” I plopped on the ground next to a rock, resting my elbow against it. “It’s easier to not think about it instead of what we can’t do.”

“What is it that you want to do?”

“You know what I want to do,” I fire back.

Her mouth snapped shut. She came and sat down next to me. “You’re the only one stopping that from happening.”

“Existentialism doesn’t work when you live in a nuclear wasteland,” I responded as she put her head on my shoulder. “You’re looking for trouble,” I whisper as her hair tickles my ear.

“Maybe I am.” She shifted so her bicep rubbed mine. “Though, I suppose, you’re looking for it too.”

I stared out ahead of me, looking at the stars that peaked up from the line of mountains. The sun was sinking fast, so only a small blue line spread across the sky, and it only served to continue to illuminate the stars. They were twinkling, like the look in Ingrid’s eye or the way the last rays bounced off her pendant. I wanted to sink into the folds of her essence, even if that was the exact trouble she was getting me into. Her cheekbones were highlighted in the rising moonlight, eyes curled up in a smile. I flicked her black hair behind her shoulder, holding it close to my nose for a brief moment. Beauty incarnate.

“You’re right.” I sighed as I sat back to look her in the eye. “I don’t understand why things got so twisted around here, but they did. Perhaps Mother wants it that way. I can’t tell. She doesn’t speak to me. But you knew that, didn’t you?” I joked, tugging on the braid in her hair.

She smiled, poking my shoulder. “Yes. Perhaps She doesn’t exist at all, have you thought of that?”

My eyes widened, and I almost looked behind me to make sure no one heard her. “That’s not true, and you know it. Why else are we here?”

“Pure chance. Luck. Destiny.” She moved closer to me; her breath fanned over my face. “Have you considered why we’re here?”

I sat back, sitting upright. “No.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Mother exists. Nietzche was right, but Mother isn’t God.”

“I think Father killed her, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“The words have been twisted. The principles have been twisted. Shit, we worship the Earth because of some age old religion that ruled the before times. Wake up, Cherry.”

We weren’t close to each other anymore. We both sat upright, rod straight. Her dark, arched brows captured my attention and I stared at them as she stared at the plains of my face. “It’s not like you and I can do anything to change that. Father rules over us, protects us. At least we have food. At least we’re living in the meantime.”

“I don’t think we’re going to be here for long.”

“I-” I stuttered, stopping. “Grit, what are you on?”

Her eyes were serious. Their brown expanse was narrowed for the first time in a long time. They were hard, determined to be taken for reality. She looked practically possessed. Her dark eyes were almost black. She didn’t speak for a moment. “Ingrid, please, tell me.”

The lost, yet determined, look in her eyes faded and she grabbed my chin, pointing my head towards the sky. “You see all those stars?” I made a noise to affirm yes. “Do you see that green one? Over to the left of the moon?” I made another noise. “That’s a new star. I don’t believe it to be a star, though.”

She let go of me, though her hand held my face still. “Oh,” is all I said. The world came together like a puzzle piece at that moment. That was why she was being so careless as of late. That’s why we were here now.

“You’re going to kiss me before the world ends, right?” I asked in a petite voice that almost broke. It was the only thing I thought of as it occurred to me that my prediction would be coming true sooner than I thought.

It was then that she tucked her hands into the base of my ponytail, anchoring herself to me as she pulled me forward to touch her lips to mine. They tasted of cherry chapstick, something she must have collected when she went out exploring to the local abandoned gas station a few days ago. My tongue instinctively reached out for a better taste, and she let me in. It was then that my hands were all over here, and she kissed me harder.

A week passed, and the Ceremony was upon us. Cola was going to be the star of the show. She was dressed in a red bridesmaid dress we found on one of the group explorations we went on. It fit her perfectly, and coupled with the dandelions in her curly red hair, she was fit to be the Solstice Queen. Kyle was also dressed in his suit that he’d worn for the past two years. Ingrid sat in front of her sun dial, dressed in her normal pair of jeans and a t shirt with holes. She couldn’t be convinced to dress up. I, however, was in a new dress Father had given me. It was a wedding dress like Princess Di’s. It was found in a thrift store, and he had held onto it for this Solstice celebration. It was poofy, and I was forced to wear the headpiece with it. I looked like a sullen bride, with my stained face and ratty hair. Queenie dyed my lips red with leftover strawberry juice. Gritty told me I looked like a pig to slaughter. She was probably right.

“Cherry,” Father called out in his quiet tone. “Come ‘ere.”

I shuffled towards him, passing Kyle and Cola, who stood whispering and touching each other. “Yes, Father?”

The sun was high in the sky, forcing Father to cover his eyes. “Will you get Ingrid in her dress? I know you two are close.” When he saw the light leave my eyes, he continued, “We have to prepare for our Solstice Queen’s first Outing.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I’m sure you can persuade her,” he said with a smirk.

My heart levitated, escaping my ribcage. I looked across the field, over Father’s shoulder, and made eye contact with Gritty. She was looking straight at me with a similar expression to the other night when she revealed to me the nature of the future.

“Yes, Father.”

I passed by Ingrid, nudging her shoulder with mine as I grabbed onto her and forced her to follow me. “Get your fucking dress on,” I mumbled as I led her to her tent.

“He knows, doesn’t he?”

“Probably. He’s acting funny.”

“How would he know?”

“You don’t exactly hide it.”

“Neither do you. You drool in my presence.”

I glared at her. “Bitch.”

“It’s just the truth.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just get dressed. It’s almost twelve. We have to get this show on the road.”

“Wow jeez can’t wait.” Her voice was saccharine.

I didn’t respond. I just waited for her to get into her flowy gown. It was peach colored, and it made her look washed out. Her hair stood out, at least. I played with the ends of it after I helped zip her into the dress. “You look great,” I said in an aimless attempt at flirting.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

It was a miracle she was here. Ingrid had the magical way of being everything all at once. She made me want to relive the artifacts of the past, to dive into that sarcophagus. It hurt knowing that the world was taking that away. It had taken away so much. Mother had taken away so much. I suppose someone has to pay for the sins of the humans past, but I didn’t imagine it would be me. The visceral part of me, in my heart, felt the pain of this realization. I was the penance for disrespecting Mother. This was my service. This was why we did the Solstice Outings. This was why Kyle, Father, and Vlad and the rest of them could fuck whoever whenever. It was why they called it fucking for them instead of an Outing for us. It felt wrong to call what me and Gritty did fucking. It wasn’t that. It was something sweeter, less one-sided. Then again, what we did is the sin that brought us to this aftermath in the first place.

“Is this the price we pay?” I asked as I braided her hair. “Forever damned to a lack of pleasure and to death?”

“I suppose.” She sighed, looking disjointed though connected to what I was saying. “It doesn’t have to be like this. We choose it to be.”

“There you go with existentialism again.”

“It’s not philosophy, my dear. It’s how things are.”

“I didn’t ask to be left to this world. To be forced into this stupid shit.”

“No, you didn’t. But you worship the people, the men, who made it this way.”

“So do you.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

I let go of her last braid, letting it come undone. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

“What does being free mean to you, Cherry?”

“What are you? A cheesy sitcom? Let’s go.”

I walked out of the tent without looking back. Whatever. Whatever. Whatever.

The Ceremony lacked the pomp and circumstance that many of past Ceremonies would have had. There weren’t many flowers we cultivated beyond weeds. We made a bed out of hay, grass, and these pesky flowers. Ingrid and I held onto Cola as we walked her into the circle of people, which consisted of our tribe. Father stood at the head of the pack, with Kyle standing next to him and Oppa on the other side. She was the eldest in our bunch, so she got to be on his right hand side while Kyle stood on the left. Everyone hummed the Hymnal, while sometimes people sang a few of the words.

Danke shoen, darling. Danke schoen...

I wore the veil in front of my face while Gritty and Cola bowed their heads. Cola was only fifteen, from the looks of her, and I felt a pang in my heart as I remembered that Kyle was two years older than me. He was twenty. The difference sat in the pit of my stomach, sickening me, as Cola smiled so sweetly at him. We were by the bed of flowers now. The humming had stopped. She was pure, still. She was worth worshipping. That would change once this was over. She’d be expected to work the fields, collect things. She’d become withered and worn like the rest of us. She was no stranger to hard work, I knew that. She had survived for this long on her own when her mother died a few months ago. Her innocence was simply so palatable in this moment. Though, perhaps that was the problem. I boiled her down to this ball of naivety when she probably had seen more shit in her lifetime than I had. She was nomadic, built with “street smarts” as they used to call it. She was human. That was why the disgust laid heavy on me.

Father put his hand on Kyle’s shoulder. He smiled in his robes, which were really just shawls we found and blessed him with. He stood with a glint in his eye as he spoke.  “Thank you, everyone. Mother Earth has blessed us with a new addition, and may we bless her unto the Earth and manifest Her bounty.”

We nodded, some people making a few grunts in affirmation. Gritty stood stoic, unwilling to do anything more than bow her head. I saw out of the corner of my eye a droplet fall from her face to the floor.

“Cola, darling, step away from your sisters and lay yourself upon our Mother.”

The human stepped forward, kneeling before Father, reaching up to touch the top of his toes from a praying position, before she moved to lay on her chest. From there, Kyle stepped forward, bowing to Father, and then he bent down to unzip Cola’s dress. The red peeled back to reveal white. It was like reverse bleeding. Instead of finding the depth of a person, we were finding the outer shell. Perhaps that was how one got through this.

From there, she was stripped. The dress fell from her chest, revealing her budding breasts, before Kyle pulled it down and off of her, revealing her naked body to the rest of us. He touched her breasts, cupping them roughly, before biting at them. She laid there still, waiting for it to be over. Or at least that’s what I presumed. She didn’t act enthused. That wasn’t her job. Her job was to be there, to pleasure him. Everyone started humming, though not the Hymnal. A different song.

I made it through the wilderness,

Somehow I made it through.

Thankfully, we didn’t sing the lyrics. We hummed. We hummed louder when she started to groan in pain. We hummed even louder when he covered her mouth. We hummed louder still when he finished. We stopped when she sat up. She covered herself again, walking to join us again. She had given herself unto the Earth.

“She gave herself unto him,” Gritty whispered.

I didn’t respond. The sun shined in my eyes, blinding me, as we walked away. Kyle wouldn’t be ready again for another five hours or so, leaving us to tend to Cola before it was my turn. Then, we would turn in for the night before it was Ingrid’s turn in the morning.

It was strange, having an appointment for something like this. It made it better, I suppose, than being shocked by it. Cola wiped at her eyes as we went to Ingrid’s tent. I offered her a shoulder, wrapping an arm around her as we all piled onto Gritty’s cot.

When the sun started to set, we were woken from our nap. Father stood at the opening of the tent. His hands rested on his hips, making dual triangles. His face read of disappointment.

“You silly girls,” he said with a jovial smile, the disappointment fading. “You know it’s inappropriate to sleep together.”

“Sorry, Father,” I started as Cola started to wake up next to me.

“Shut up,” his voice came out hard. He softened as he said, “Just don’t do it again, okay?” though he looked to Cola, not me.

“Sorry, Father,” she said quietly.

“Good girl,” he said back before walking away.

Funny how easy it is to become a pet if you let yourself. Though that was what Gritty was talking about. I chose not to judge Cola because of this.

We got up, picking at each other to make each other primed for another Outing. Gritty fixed my hair, sneaking a small kiss on the cheek before the tent door opened and Oppa came in.

“Let’s go, girls. There’s a shooting comet we see coming our way across the sky. We want to watch it when the sun goes down.”

Gritty and I looked towards each other, and she smiled. My Outing was on a schedule. My life was on a schedule. We knew what this meant. I looked Oppa in the eye. “I’m coming!” It came out happy, bright. It was filled with the last squeeze of life from my lemon.

I left the tent in a flourish. This was it. This was the end. I felt the joy buried beneath me come undone. The string has been cut! I am free. I walk quickly, with Cola and Gritty on either side of me.

“You’ve never looked so excited to be fucked like a stuffed pig,” She teased me quietly.

I looked over to her as we walked to the tune of the Hymnal. “It doesn't have to be like this, remember?” I smiled wide, aware that I looked a little unhinged.

“Yes, you’re right,” she whispered before I stepped away and kneeled down. I didn’t bother to touch the toes of Father before I laid down. In fact, I reached behind me and started to work my zipper down. Kyle murmured, “I got it,” but I didn’t listen to him. His hand stood close to mine as the zipper was worked down. The fabric billowed around me, squishy as I worked my way out of it.

“Cherry, this isn’t how the Outing goes,” he whispered quietly as Father stared down at us.

I didn’t respond. I finished my way out of the dress. I stood up, stepped out of it, and looked Gritty in the eyes. I was naked. Exposed. The stars were looking upon me, as was everyone else. I chose this. It was then that a hand pushed me down, hard, onto my knees. I saw Gritty freeze up, and Cola held onto her harder.

“Cherry,” Father’s voice came out cold. “This is not how the Outing is done.” He pushed me back onto the bed of growth. “Have your way, Kyle,” he said as I laid there, spread out like a plate of hors de o’deauvrs. The circle began to sing.

My fear is fading fast

Been saving it all for you

He bit me, ate my skin, before he fucked me. It was a blip in time. I looked towards the green star, the thing that was coming to destroy us. It was beautiful. I saw life in it. I saw the beauty in all things. I forgot that there was a boy fucking me, brutalizing me, making me his meal. His object. I didn’t care. I wasn’t his. I was this star’s. I was death impending. I was free.

When he was done, I didn’t wait. I plopped upright and walked away naked, forgetting the stupid costume. I wrapped an arm around Gritty’s waist before taking her hand and running off into the night. My bare feet pounded across the wasteland’s floor. The star was coming closer. It would be here soon. I knew this chapter was coming to a close. I was going to end it with her.

We made our way to the edge of the forest.

“Can I unzip you?” I asked Ingrid.

She nodded, smiling, as she turned around and pulled her elegant hair towards her front. It twinkled and wrinkled down her breasts. She was elegance, the form of death that I least expected. I pulled her close and kissed her, enveloping myself in her the way I needed to a week ago. I heard the sounds from the camp as the sun disappeared but the star came closer and illuminated the expanse of earth. I paid them no mind as I danced with Ingrid. Eventually, we became dizzy and fell.

Her hand laid on my bicep, and mine on hers. We stared up to the sky as we had a week ago when we kissed for the first time. The green of the meteor shooting towards us blinded me, but I kept my eyes open. I started to sing quietly as Ingrid’s fingers played at my skin, touching me. “Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen. Thank you for walks down Lover's Lane.”

My voice was awkward, and I didn’t sing in tune. Ingrid rolled into me all the same, shielding herself from the green glow. I wrapped her hair around my finger. This was death. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. She was who I wanted to die with.

“This is what free means to me,” I whispered as she continued to hum the song, taking it for her own.

I could see the details of the rock now. The edges were curved, like the indents of her body. My heart left its cage. It floated above me, blocking out the death rock. This was what was coming to claim me. It sung the song of my soul, repeating back to me the song I had just been singing. It was mine. This was my choice.

The green became more intense. She wrapped herself closer to me. My heart sung louder. This was it. Whatever. Whatever. Whatever.

[backchatdiscourse]

Christmas Without You

I’m so pleased to tell @innueendo that I am your Secret Santa for @dtfrogertaylor‘s tgic!!! Merry Christmas! I hope you like it!

Title: Christmas Without You

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Roger has promised to fly out to you for Christmas during a break from tour. But when there’s radio silence from him in the days leading up Christmas, you may have to make do spending your holiday alone.

A/N: Flashbacks are italicized.

December 24. 2 a.m. He said he’d call when he got to the airport. He’d let you know his flight plans. Maybe he didn’t want to disturb you. There was the time change, after all. Maybe he wasn’t flying tonight. He could board early on Christmas Eve morning and still get here. Besides, just because it was late here doesn’t mean it it’s late there. There’s plenty of time for him to board yet today. Yesterday, technically.

Six hour difference. Eight hour flight. So only two hours, really. Plenty of time.

You could call him. Two in the morning here. It’s only eight in New York. Still the 23rd. He might be on his way to the airport. You could miss him. Or worse, you could try to call him exactly when he tries to call you, and you’d miss his call altogether!

That’s probably stupid. Unless it wasn’t?

No. Stupid. You picked up the phone and dialed the number. Roger had left you a list of the numbers for all the hotels he’d be staying at during Queen’s American tour, as well as which dates he’d be at each. He’d phoned you two days ago when he’d checked in to give you his room number, and you’d penciled it in beside the phone number.

Your handwriting looked so different from his. His was almost a chicken scratch. It might not be legible had you not had years of practice deciphering it. Even his horrid writing was endearing to you. You missed him so much you could barely breathe at times. Now was one of those times.

Holding the receiver to your ear, you counted the rings until a cheery sounding woman with an American accent greeted you.

“Yes,” you replied. “I’m looking for Roger Taylor in room 1322.”

“I see.” The change in her tone was instant and sharp. You imagined you weren’t the first woman phoning the luxury establishment looking for one of the four boys. You bitterly wondered how many had also given the correct room number. “And what is your name?”

“Y/N.”

The woman paused, presumably checking a list. “Alright Ms. Y/N, I’ll patch you through.”

“Thank you,” you said, but she was already gone. The phone was ringing once more.

And ringing...

And ringing...

And ringing...

For minutes.

You slammed the receiver down.

An overreaction, you thought before picking it up once more. Likely he had already left the hotel and was on his way to the airport. On his way to you.

You dialed the hotel again, and once again were greeted by the same cheery woman turned harsh when she heard that it was again you, this time looking for John. You’d met John, whom Roger affectionately called Deaky, only once, but the two of you had hit it off. Roger had jokingly asked if you’d wanted to be set up. You hadn’t much cared for that joke.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Y/N, but you are not authorized by Mr. Deacon to contact him.”

“Wait!” you didn’t want her to hang up before you were sure Roger had left yet. “Can you please ask him if he’d be willing to take a call?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“Please! I just need to know if Roger is on his way to the airport yet. May I please speak to John? For just a moment?”

“Mr. Taylor left the hotel over an hour ago with a young woman. I don’t know where he went. Good evening, Ms. Y/N.” And with that, the brusque woman hung up on you.

You hung your receiver back on the wall, blinking back hot tears. Instead of coming to visit you for Christmas as promised, Roger was out and about in New York City with some American floozy. Fine. That was fine. Roger could see whoever he wanted. You weren’t his keeper. You weren’t his girlfriend. And if he didn’t even have the decency to call and tell you wasn’t coming then you didn’t want to see him anyway.

He wasn’t worth your time, and you didn’t want to see him.

You didn’t want him to come. You didn’t want to see him.

Maybe if you kept telling yourself that, you’d start to believe it.

~~~

You woke up the next morning, feeling delightfully well-rested on Christmas Eve to a knock at your door. You looked over to your nightstand and found it was already afternoon. That would explain feeling well-rested. Another knock.

You sat bolt upright. Could it be? Maybe it was. He’d made it after all!

You sprinted through your apartment and threw open the door to find-

your neighbor.

Oh.

“You left your keys in the door,” he told you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, pulling them out of the lock and feeling suddenly tired once more.

You migrated to the sofa and stared at the Christmas tree. Alone. On Christmas Eve.

You’d put up the tree in early December, also alone, hanging your favorite ornament front and center on the tree, a golden sparkling pair of crossed drumsticks you’d bought on impulse this year. You were going to surprise Roger with them this year if ever made it back.

He’d called you that first night and asked you to describe the tree to him in detail. The lights, the tinsel, the ornaments and their placement.  “Is that creepy looking baby angel right up front?” he’d asked, as if you’d dare place his favorite ornament anywhere else. It hung just to the right of the new drumstick ornament, the only aspect of the tree you didn’t tell him all about. You were sure he’d appreciate the surprise.

If he came.

Decorating the tree with Roger had become a tradition in years past. Early in December, you’d put up the tree, hanging ornaments in turn, stringing the lights and the tinsel, and generally having an absurdly good time together. You have a photo somewhere of Roger making a stupid face with an ornament hanging over either ear and a pile of tinsel on his head in a sloppy crown.

The tradition had become important to you both, but held a special place in your heart specifically. Two years ago, when decorating the tree, you’d fallen asleep on the armchair and woken up, tied to the chair by a strand of lights.

You looked up to see Roger standing above you, with that troublemaker’s smile of his. Assessing the situation, you remarked, “You didn’t do a very thorough job. Lights only? What about the tinsel and the ornaments? What about the topper? What kind of crummy looking tree only has lights? This is slapshod work, Taylor.”

“I thought about it,” he said, “but you look gorgeous enough as it is. I don’t think my heart could take it if you got anymore beautiful.”

As quickly as the moment occurred, it was over. He was untying you, and you were decorating the tree together, just like always, and he was once again his normal self, sans flirting. It was fine, really. Roger was flirty, you knew, with everyone. But in that moment you found yourself seeing Roger in a new light. Not just your good friend Roger, but perhaps something more? You tried to calm the butterflies and ignore the notion, but it persisted. You had feelings for Roger. Your Roger. Your friend, who had never let you down.

Never until today. When you sat alone in front of a tree, while he traipsed around New York with some other girl.

~~~

Christmas Eve came and went, with no word from Roger.

On Christmas morning, you padded into the kitchen to fix yourself breakfast, feeling none of the excitement you usually felt on Christmas. You fixed yourself a full English breakfast, despite it not being one you enjoyed. You’d bought all the fixings before Roger blew you off. You wanted to surprise him with a meal from his English home after spending so many weeks in America and then spending Christmas away from home with you. You could hardly run out to the store today, though, so you suffered through the mess of beans, toast, eggs, and sausage alone.

After your meal, you resolved yourself to trying to call Roger again, despite the early hour there. Maybe you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, or maybe you were just a masochist, you weren’t sure which. You dialed the hotel, not realizing you were holding your breath until the front desk clerk answered. It was a different employee this time, for which you were grateful.

“Hello, this is Y/N, can I please reach Roger Taylor in room 1322?”

“Of course; one moment.”

And the line was ringing...

And ringing...

And ringing...

And ringing...

You were about to hang up when a groggy voice answered. “Hello?” It was a woman’s voice.

You slammed the receiver down.

A tear rolled down your cheek this time.

How could he do this to you? How could he pick some strange woman over his best friend for Christmas. And worse still, how could he not tell you? It was bad enough not to come after he promised. After years of holiday traditions. But to do so without a word of acknowledgement?

Roger meant everything to you. You’d give up everything you had just to be with him today. But you clearly weren’t worth the time or the money or even a simple call. How could you have been so foolish as to believe you were actually important to him?

Well that was all well and good.

You stormed to the tree and ripped the drumsticks ornament from it, throwing it across the room in a blind fury of grief and embarrassment.

You refused to let that inconsiderate ass of a man ruin your holiday, so you found a Christmas movie on television and fixed yourself a hot chocolate.

“I’m out of mini marshmallows, sorry,” you told him.

“Unacceptable! How am I supposed to enjoy a hot chocolate without mini marshmallows?” Roger teased.

You rolled your eyes. “You’ll have to manage with the full sized ones.”

His jaw dropped in fake shock. “Full size? You’re mad, woman!”

You ignored him. “One or two marshmallows? I’m using two.”

“One and three-sevenths,” he answered immediately and seemingly in all seriousness.

You refused to look at him. If you looked at the earnest facade you knew he was fronting, you’d be certain to laugh. And the last thing you wanted to do was encourage him. You didn’t want him to see how he was affecting you, how his playful banter was making your heart beat faster.

“Roger Meddows Taylor, that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Pick a normal number of marshmallows or do without.”

He made an indignant noise. “Don’t middle name me! And I will not! One and three-sevenths! That’s the amount of large marshmallows that equals the amount of miniature ones I’d prefer.”

“You are making that up and you know it,” you scolded, unable to keep the smile out of your voice. “I am not going to make a huge sticky mess trying to cut up a marshmallow into three-sevenths.”

“Well I don’t know what we’re going to do then, Y/N.”

You looked over and couldn’t hide your smile. As he beamed at you, you couldn’t imagine how he didn’t see the adoration in your eyes.

Willing yourself to ignore the intruding memory, you settled into your sofa to watch your Christmas film.

After it ended there was a second, followed by a third, and on and on. It was almost enough to keep your mind occupied. To allow you to forget how you were home alone on Christmas, abandoned by the one you wanted most to share the day with. Sometimes you could forget for a half hour or so, but then the clock would chime, reminding you that it was later and later, and he wasn’t coming. Or a scene would come up on screen, with a man and woman holding each other, or sharing a kiss under the mistletoe, and you felt hollow inside.

As the last movie ended, you checked the clock. 11:30 pm. You’d nearly done it. You’d almost gotten through the day. You’d live to tell the tale of the sad and lonely Christmas of Y/N. You internally chastised yourself for being so melodramatic. Plenty of people were worse off than just being ditched. Still, it hardly helped.

A knock at the door.

An all too familiar voice. “Y/N?”

Your breath caught. Momentarily forgetting your anger and depression, you ran to the door and threw it open.

“Roger!” you yelled, throwing yourself into his arms with such force that you almost toppled the both of you.

He laughed and held you in his arms. “God, Y/N, am I glad to see you. I’m so sorry I’m late.”

And with his admission, you pulled away, freshly reminded of your indignation. “Did your flight just come in?”

“Yes, I-“

“How could you do this to me?” you interrupted. “You put off spending Christmas with me, like you promised, in order to sleaze around with some sloppy groupie! You didn’t even bother to call! I spent the past two days angry and upset and you didn’t care! You ruined my Christmas, Roger Taylor, and now you show up at the last second like everything’s all right? Maybe you should just go.”

“Go? Y/N, what are you talking about? I flew all this way just to be with you!”

“At the last second! You never called me! And when I tried to reach you THIS MORNING some woman answered your phone!”

He paused. “Y/N, I’ve been traveling for two days. I don’t know who you spoke to on the phone, but I wasn’t there. I gave Brian my room when I left because it was nicer than his.”

Two days? Now that he mentioned it, he looked like hell. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was greasy. His clothes were wrinkled and he looked as though he could barely stand.

You took his suitcase and led him to the sofa. “How did it take you two days to get here? Why didn’t you call?” You tried to make the second question sound as non-accusatory as you could, though you didn’t think you’d succeeded.

“New York was a nightmare. The worst blizzard they’d seen in decades, apparently. Almost every flight was cancelled. Everything else was delayed. I was in the airport overnight. I had to take a plane in the wrong direction just to get out. I flew west to Chicago and had to find a new flight out to Edinburgh and make a connection from there to here. I did everything I could to get here on time. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do it.” He was looking at you so earnestly that it was too much to handle. You had to break eye contact.

“You never called.” Your heard how small your voice had become.

“I know. I’m sorry. The phones at the airport were out of order. Most of the city’s phone lines were affected, I heard. Something to do with the storms. I couldn’t call from Chicago or Scotland. I didn’t have time. By the time I finally got my flights in order they were back to back. I almost missed one of my connections.”

“Oh.” You supposed that made sense. “But the hotel clerk said she saw you leave with some woman.” This came out far less as an accusation, and more genuinely perplexed.

Roger seemed confused for a minute before seemingly coming to a realization. “Oh! Well I don’t suppose it was any of her business, but I left the hotel with one of John’s girlfriends. Like I said, the city was a mess, so we shared a cab to the airport. Doubtful that we would’ve been able to get two.”

“Oh.” You felt like a fool, throwing around accusations and doubting that Roger wouldn’t be there for you if he was able. Your previous anger and sadness seemed to mingle with your newfound guilt and you once again felt your face grow warm and red from unshed tears.

“Oh, Y/N, no, don’t be upset!” Before you realized what was happening, he pulled you to him and planted a deep kiss on your lips.

You eventually pulled away, shocked.

His blue eyes stared deep into yours and you felt exposed, almost, as if the look alone was too intimate.

“Y/N, I would never, ever let you down like this if there was any human way to avoid it. I wanted to be with you today more than anything in the world. You’re the most important person in my life.”

“I am?”

“Of course you are.”

You sat quietly for a moment, unsure where to go from here. It’s what you’ve wanted for years, but you you never actually thought you’d get it.

“What’s this?” Roger held up the drumsticks ornament you’d thrown to the floor. It must have landed beside the sofa.

“It was a surprise for you, in honor of your America tour. I threw it off the tree when I’d thought you’d blown me off.”

He studied it with a small smile on his face. “It’s perfect. Thank you, love.”

Love. He’d called you that before, but it felt different now. Less casual, more sincere.

“Roger,” you said very seriously, “I love you so much that I’d cut a marshmallow into a stupid fraction for you if you asked me to.”

You both felt and heard his laughter as he pulled you into his chest.

“And I love you so much, Y/N, that I won’t ask you to.”

[night-raven-dorms]

Scenario where the reader is a quiet yet sincere person and wishes to express her feelings towards the one she loves, aka: Vil (can she be a part of Heartslabyul and Riddle is like a brother to her; he wants what’s best for her, but doesn’t trust Vil enough to be her guy? He also catches Vil speaking w/ another girl and assumes he’s leading the reader on? Something along the lines of Romeo and Juliet, but w/ no bloodshed)? Hope this is a good enough request, GW. BTW, keep up the good work!

Apple Blossoms

Vil Schoenheit/Reader

Love will always bloom. Not matter the circumstances.

~

It had all started because of a tea party.

It wasn’t a grand and magnificent party. Simply a small one, specifically one for six people. Even more specifically, it was a rare tea party hosted by the dorm leader himself and the attendees were his for aces and you. His darling little not-sister. The four were shocked to say the least. Riddle Rosehearts, the second year dorm leader with anger issues, had a sweet, sincere, adorably quiet best friend that he considered a little sister. What was even more shocking was how quickly you were able to calm him down after Ace jokingly gave you a wink. It was like watching a fluffy white rabbit taming an angry chihuahua.

When the tea party was over, Riddle had ordered the four to “clean up the mess” while he allowed you to go explore the rest of the dorm grounds (all while a certain Ace of hearts was whining about special treatment). After giving your not-brother and his friends a polite curtsy, you went straight to the place that intrigued you the most: the rose gardens.

The Heartslabyul dorms had an impressive rose garden that was properly cared for and perfectly grown. The beauty of the roses wasn’t the thing that attracted you in the first place. Rather, it was the mysterious hedge maze that winded away into oblivion, and you were determined to find the other side. Upon arriving at the entrance of the maze, you noticed a large black dog with it’s back towards you. Noticing your presence, the dog looked at you, back to the maze, and back at you before running in. You called out to it before chasing after it wondering where it came from.

After several twists and turns, you made it to the other side and into an apple orchard. You looked around trying to find the black dog. However it seemed to have just disappeared into the forest of apple trees. Sighing, you knew you had to head back, but you turned and slammed face first into someone’s chest. You would have fallen over too if it wasn’t for that someone to catch you and keep you steady. “My, my, I must apologize if I startled you miss,” a smooth voice said.

When you were able to get your bearing back, you tilted your head up to see the most beautiful man you have ever laid your eyes on. He let you stand on your own and you took a step back. He spoke up before you could, “Well, you’re a face I haven’t seen before! You must be new here. My name is Vil Schoenheit, and it is a pleasure to meet you.”

He gave a bow. “If I may ask, who are you?”

You gave your own curtsy to him, “My name is (y/n). And you’re right. I’m a new transfer here... um, what is this place exactly?”

Vil gave another charming smile, “This place is the apple orchard in the Pomefiore dorms. It seems like you’ve found the connecting area between the two houses.”

You wanted to ask more questions. A lot more, but you suddenly became aware of how late it was getting. Not wanting to worry Riddle about your disappearance, you both exchanged your good byes before you sprinted back out of the maze and into the familiar territory of the Heartslabyul.

Riddle was waiting at the front of the maze by the time you found your way out. “I had a feeling you were in there.”

“Sorry Rid, I was just-“ he shook his head, cutting you off from continuing.

“Don’t worry I’m not mad at you, I just came looking for you since break will be ending soon. Come on, we can walk back together.”

As the two of you walked, you looked back to the maze. Sitting patiently at the entrance was the black dog that lead you to the Pomefiore dorms. It seemed to smile as it happily wagged its tail. Riddle noticed your gaze and looked back at the hedge. Nothing was there but you continued to stare as if wanting to go back. “Hey, is everything okay?” He asked.

You looked at him and blinked. “Yeah I’m fine. I... I thought I left something there but I guess not.”

He raised his eyebrow. You smiled and shook your head, “Let’s just go back, you need to show me around the dorms right?”

“... yeah...”

You continued to walk side by side until you made it back to the dorm. While you walked into the giant castle to find your bedroom, Riddle went to find Trey. He needed someone to check the maze.

...

For the next couple of days, the you had fallen into a routine with Vil. Everyday you would sneak away after class with small hand made goodies – ranging from baked goods to flower crowns to trinkets – and meet Vil in the apple orchard. The both of you would spend time together and talk about anything.

Today you were sitting in his lap as he played and styled your hair. Next to you, was the basket of heart shaped baked treats you had baked in the morning. In all honesty, you would be lying to say you hadn’t developed feelings for the Pomefiore dorm leader. He was so gentle with you and treated you with so much care, and in all honesty, Vil was also falling for you as well. Those hours spent together soon became both your favorite past times. “Vil, can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything my sweet little apple.”

You blushed at the nickname. “Vil... Thank you for spending time with me.”

He hummed, “I should be saying that to you.”

You smiled as he finished with your hair and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’re one of the only people that has looked passed my beauty. You actually cared to ask how my days are and made it an effort to see me everday.”

You leaned back into him enjoying the comfortable silence. Unfortunately all good things must come to an end, “I better get going, Riddle will be worried.”

Vil laughed and helped you to your feet, “He must care about you a lot to be worrying this much.”

“Well, I am his ‘little sister’ after all.”

“Or so you say...”

You pouted as he pushed a stray hair behind your ear, “I’m only kidding. I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

You nodded in response. He walked you to the entrance of the maze where you traveled back to the dorms. Unknown to you that a couple of cards were watching your retreating figure.

“What do we do now?” Ace asked.

“We report it to Riddle,” Deuce replied, “he trusted us to find out where she goes everyday remember?”

“Yeah, but doesn’t she look happy with him?”

Deuce only stayed quiet and walked away leaving Ace standing there.

...

The next morning you were woken up by Riddle angrily yelling at you through the door of the bedroom. You were confused to see Riddle, Deuce, and a pretty guilty looking Ace on the other side. “Huh? Whas going on?”

“You’ve been sneaking off to see Vil?”

You froze on the spot. How did they... you looked between Ace and Deuce and groaned. “You were spying on me?”

“Yes I have because I’ve been wondering where you were whenever you disappeared. Tch, had I known you were seeing Vil I would have stopped you a lot sooner.”

You squint your eyes at him, “What do you even have against him Rid?”

“What I have against him is the fact that he’s particularly popular with the girls. I just don’t want you to be heart broken if you find out he’s leading you on.”

“He’s not leading me on.”

“And how can you say that so confidently?”

“How can you not trust me?”

“Listen (y/n), I’m only trying to protect you. Besides, a first year and a third year? Sis, do you know what people would think of you? I’m only trying to make you happy.”

You were getting frustrated and screamed out, “WELL MAYBE I’M HAPPIER WHEN I’M WITH HIM.”

You slammed the door in his face and he stood there stunned. You were always so sweet and nice. You never, if only rarely, raised your voice to yell. The look on your face is what shocked him the most. After all his years of knowing you, you had never looked so betrayed. It was at this moment, he knew he may have messed up. May have. Okay, he did a big mess up. He stood there and rubbed his temples. He hadn’t meant to make you upset (and more than likely cry), he was just trying to keep you from being heartbroken.

He sighed, “Ace, Deuce.”

The two first years looked at him. “We need to go shopping.”

...

Sam the mysterious shop keeper was more than just the go to guy for goods. He was also, surprisingly, a wonderful advice giver. He simply smiled when the three walked into his shop. “How may I help you gentlemen today? Wait, let me guess, is this about the little princess of Heartslabyul?”

Riddle deadpanned. Sam laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The shopkeeper pulled out a deck of tarot cards from under his counter. He gave it a good shuffle, making a spectacle that left Ace and Deuce awed. He fanned out the cards for Riddle to pick. “Pick three,” Sam said with a wink.

Riddle grabbed them and handed them back to Sam who put the thick deck away. He flipped each card over. The first one depicted the vice dorm leader of Pomefiore, Rook Hunt, with a black dog. The second depicted a heart with a tiara wrapped in thorns and roses to protect it. Upon closer look, the heart was bleeding. The third showed an apple tree with small apple blossoms in bloom. Sam explained, “The past, present, and future. It seems like the little princess first met Vil through Rook. Now it seems like she’s heart broken. Not because of Vil...”

Riddle furrowed his brows, “It’s because of me isn’t it.”

Sam only gave a nod, “based on what I see, she feels trapped. She knows you care, and she knows you protect her. Just a suggestion, and it’s up for you to take, but I believe you should let their love grow.”

He gestured to the third card with the apple blossoms which magically changed to grow ripe red apples. Sam picked up the card and handed it to Riddle who stared at it. The dorm leader abruptly turned around and began walking out. Sam quickly asked before he could leave, “Where are you going?”

Riddle stopped at the door. “I need to have a talk with Vil.”

...

Later that day, you were called into Sam’s shop only to find Riddle waiting (rather impatiently) with Sam. Your figure slumped a bit as you walked closer to them. “Am I in trouble?” You asked.

Sam gave a laugh, “Far from it! We called you here because you’re transferring dorms.”

You were shocked to say the least. Transferring dorms? Where would you go? You looked at Riddle for answers. “Riddle... where am I going?”

Before you could answer, the door of the shop opened. Vil had walked into the shop. “I apologize for being late.”

“You’re lucky my patience didn’t run out Schoenheit.” Riddle said glaring at him.

If you were confused you were even more confused now. Riddle sighed and began explaining the situation, “I had a talk with Vil and we came to an agreement. From this day forward you’ll be transferring to the Pomefiore dorms... so you don’t have to keep sneaking off dorm grounds to meet with him.”

You blushed from embarrassment at the last part, but you still hugged him and thanked him with all your heart. Sam had sorted everything out and gave you your new uniform for you to wear, and soon enough the three of you traveled to the Pomefiore dorms. Waiting at the entrance was a tall man with a bobbed haircut; next to him was an awfully familiar black dog. The three of you stopped so you could give your good byes. “Thank you Riddle. I promise I’ll visit you so you don’t miss me too much.”

“You had better,” he demanded, “and you better come over when I host tea parties. Or if I invite you over in general. If you don’t I’ll Trey or Cater to bring me your head.”

He turned to Vil, “You better remember our deal.”

The blonde replied with a smile, “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of breaking it.”

You and Riddle shared one last hug before walking you walked away hand in hand with Vil. As Riddle walked back to his own dorm, he took notice of the countless apple trees the bordered the dorm. All of them in full bloom, showcasing their beauty.

~

A/N: This came out longer than I expected. Still, I hope you enjoy it and hopefully I did it correctly! Also, thank you for the compliment – and I’m talking to everyone when I say this – they really keep me going.

-GW

[goddess-aelin]

So since 500 is a pretty big number and I never EVER thought that I’d have this many followers, I decided to do something a little different. I’ve been in the fandom since season 2 and I’ve read SO MANY fics over the years. So i decided to compile a giant list of my absolute favorites. Then I compiled that list and realized how long it was so now I’m splitting it up! Here are all of my favorite modernverse/farmer Bellamy/Hogwarts AU fics.  (Obviously I have my weird kinks) These are in no particular order and I don’t have an AO3 so I know that I left so many good ones out because I’m going off of ones that stick in my head.  

- A Song to Keep Us Warm  by kindclaws........N/R

   This is an absolutely beautiful fic. Dancer!Bellarke is definitely HOT.  Clarke and Bellamy are co-dance-instructors. Bellamy helps her find her passion again.

-The Girl Next Door by funfanfin.....M

   OH MY GOD. THIS FIC. just wow. I don’t even know what to say. Bellarke as neighbors. Angst, fluff, and of course, happy endings. 

-Turn the Tide on My Losing Side by Lalalli.....T

   Fun Bellarke + Jaha facebook shenanigans. Such a fun and lighthearted fic. “I want to touch your abs.” Iconic, honestly.

-Ice by rabiscar....T

Is it really a fic rec by me if there isn’t a hockey/ice skater AU? Hockey player Bellamy is hot and I absolutely love the dynamic between Bellarke in this fic. Not only does it have hockey, it also has bed sharing, enemies to friends to lovers, and so much teamwork, which is Bellarkes brand tbh.

-Potions et Patroni by @chants-de-lune...T

A Harry Potter AU where Bellarke are professors at Hogwarts. Also doubles as a soulmate AU. Meg does such an amazing job of bringing the show characterization to these characters in a completely different setting. I absolutely love this and am a huge sucker for Harry Potter AU’s. 

-What’s a Little Quaffle Between Friends? by @talistheintrovert...G

Another Harry Potter AU. Talis is a genius and had all the chapter titles be Harry Potter puns. Bellamy is constantly getting hurt and Clarke is always there to patch him up. So much light fluffiness but also so much angst! One of my fave fics! She also wrote a smutty follow-up to this, Finders Keepers. 

Talis also has so many other fics that are amazing and I’d so like to recommend them all here but this would be miles long. Definitely check out all of her others!!! 

-Weave Me a Myrtle Crown by AJRedfern....E

So this fic is on almost every fic rec list I’ve come across and its not finished but its literally that good. Mixes mythology, reincarnation, and firefighter Bellamy/EMT Clarke. The characters are so well written and there is seriously so much angst that it makes me want to cry whenever I re-read it. 

-The Odds are Good by tacosandflowers...E

Modernverse with so much angst that it hurts. This fic taught me everything I need to know about kayaking and waterfalls and now every time I go kayaking, I think about this fic. This fic is B E A U T I F U L.  The amount of love that Bellarke has for each other in this fic is only paralleled by show Bellarke. This author also wrote a follow up, New Expectations, which is a baby fic set in the same universe.

-Willing to Wait For It by LayALioness....T

FARMER BELLAMY. I’m not quite sure why i have a Thing^TM for farmer Bellamy but I sure as hell DO. Clarke is a vet that helps take care of Bellamy’s farm animals. She needs someone to come with her to her high school reunion. Features two idiots in love who don’t know how to talk about their feelings for each other.

-Without Giving Anything Away by chash...E

Another farmer Bellamy fic! Octavia leaves home but doesn’t want Bellamy to be alone, so naturally he puts an ad out for a wife. Clarke comes knocking. Not one, but TWO Bellarke weddings! 

-Of Coffee and Magic by @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky ...T

Clarke owns a coffee shop with a twist. She puts magic into people’s drinks to take their pain away. The only downside is that she gets to feel their pain, taking “I bear it so they don’t have to” to a whole new level. So naturally, she thinks that Bellamy only likes her because of her magic. So fluffy it kills me. 

-Win a Date With Bellamy Blake...Bittyab18...M

So I honestly haven’t read a lot of the new chapters on this one but this is the first Bellarke fic I ever read, so it has a special place in my heart. Exactly what it sounds like is what happens. Clarke wins a date with movie star, Bellamy Blake, who she knew from high school. Of course, they become friends and then hide their feelings for each other.

-Did Venus Blow Your Mind (Was it Everything You Wanted?) by @selflessbellamy ...M

Clarke signs up for a body paint contest and Bellamy is her canvas. Is it weird that body painting is a kink? Because I definitely have it.  

-Jumping to Conclusions is Sacrificing Yourself to Embarassment by tempestaurora...T

Such a fun, lighthearted fic. Bellamy and Clarke take the same elevator everyday. She thinks he doesn’t speak English so naturally she talks about how hot he is to Raven right in front of his face.

-Take My Hand by winterwaters...E

A So You Think You Can Dance AU where Bellamy and Clarke aren’t too fond of each other. But, of course, the power of dance brings them together.

-Vienna Waits for You by panem_et_circenses....M

This is one of those fics that I could just read again and again. It has such a weird and unexpected mixing of tropes but the way that the writer put them all together works so well. Bellarke in college, Bellamy as an underground boxer, artist Clarke, nude model Bellamy, fake dating, Finn as his natural douchey self, and some Wicken, Linctavia, and Monty/Miller!

-To My Favorite Scar (To All of the Stars) by @prosciuttoe...T

So this is more of a college AU than it is a Foxhole Court AU but it has some of the delinquents as Exy players, which is a made up sport from the previously listed title. I read this so long ago and I still to this day remember how much I love it. Bellamy is the captain, Clarke transfers from another team, who she now shares a rivalry with. A relationship filled with animosity quickly turns into a loving friendship (and more, wink wink)

-I’ll be Home for Christmas (if Only in My Dreams) by @head-and-heart...T

An AU loosely based on Eliza’s movie, Christmas Inheritance. Bellamy is a grumpy hotel owner and Clarke is running away from her life in the city. Angst but so FLUFFY.

**definitely check out all of these wonderful writers’ fics! They’re all AMAZING!

Thank you to everyone for following me and helping me out with finding fics! Here’s to the 600 follower canonverse/fantasy AU list I already have compiled 🥂

[talpup]

Light In the Darkness: 21

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887595/chapters/55384393

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

Taglist: @captncappuccino

21.1

After having been rudely awakened by a maid wanting to take her measurements before the sun had even begun to rise Teris had laid back down ordering the departing servant that nothing had better come with flowers or bows, in pink, lavender, mauve, or yellow.

Bored she had slept and idled the day away in her quarters wanting to avoid Fyntch and wondering if Yami had returned from his mission yet.  The trays from breakfast and lunch sat untouched on the table by the door where the maid had left them.

Stomach rumbling she rolled out of the lounge and fetched a cluster of grapes of the breakfast tray.  Popping a grape into her mouth she turned and walked to one of the two large windows that faced the gardens at the back of the house.  Flinging open the drapes she squinted at the late afternoons brightness.  Eyes adjusting she looked out in horror at the changes made.

Gone were their mothers jasmine that grew over a long arched lattice that formed a shaded path.  In it’s place were two rows of roses trimmed into short five foot trees.  Their mothers mint garden where she had grown every variety of mint imaginable, having even cultivated a couple new species herself, had become a lawn.  And the somewhat wild, mismatched plot of the late Lady Resa Nova’s favorite plants had become a neatly trimmed and ranked mandala of boxwood and crushed granite shaped into the Nova family crest surround by the outline of a three leafed clover.

“Fyntch!” Teris yelled dropping the cluster of grapes.  She turned and made for the door, wrapping her robe tightly around her.  Flinging the door open she yelled again.  “Fyntch!”

Julius came running up the stairs.  “What’s the matter?  Everything alright?”

“No. Everything’s not alright.”  Teris spat tying the robes stays about her waist and taking the stairs two at a time down to the second level.  “Have you seen mother’s garden?”

“No.” Julius shook his head.

“Well, it’s not mothers garden anymore,” Teris said.

Julius closed his eyes and cursed.  If he didn’t know better he would have sworn Fyntch did these things to rile Teris up.  Not that he was well pleased to learn there had been a change.  Still, it couldn’t truly be as bad as Teris was making it out.  A small alteration here or there was expected as plants died, time went on, and fashion changed. As long as mother’s archway of jasmine and mint garden were still there Julius didn’t really care about the rest.

“Fyntch.” Teris called reaching the second level.

Fyntch exited their fathers study.  “You sound like a rough scullery maid with all this braying.  Did someone die?”

“Not funny.”  Julius told coming to a halt behind his sister.

“Yes. Mother all over again.”

“Wow! Teris.  Not funny!”  Julius chastised.

Teris turned back to her eldest brother.  “If you had seen what he did you’d understand and agree.”

Fyntch smirked.  “Someone woke up in a delusional temper.  You’re impossible to speak reason to when you’re like this, Teris.  I’m not even going to try.”  He turned away and headed back to the study.  “Put some clothes on will you.  You’re a disgrace.”

Teris looked down and the closed robe.  She was wearing clothes she thought.  Granted they were the same ones she had arrived in yesterday but they were clothes nonetheless.  It had simply been that the robe had belonged to her mother and she had wanted to feel close to her again.  Teris reached for the tie and pulled.

Julius all but covered his eyes as he looked away.  “I’m fairly certain he meant for you to dress in your own quarters.  There’s not even anything for you to change into out here.”

Teris glared at him.  “Shut up, Julius.”

“Teris.” Julius said uncomfortably sensing her open the robe.  “What exactly are you planning to do?”

“Go out to the garden.”  Teris told shrugging out of the garment.

“Like that?”

“Yes, Julius.  Like this.”  She tossed the robe over his head and marched down the main second level hall to the grand stairs that led to the first floor.

Julius pulled off the fabric and looked after her relieved to see her wearing something other than her night clothes.  He called to a passing maid and handed her the robe instructing her to return it to Teris chambers and then followed his sister.

21.1.2

Julius stumbled about the garden awed by the breath and scope of the changes.  Teris hadn’t been over-exaggerating when she said it felt as if their mother had died again.  For Julius, it felt worse than that.  It was as if Lady Resa Nova’s hand and direction had never touched the place.  As if her efforts and vision for the garden had never existed.  Gone were the fun whimsical flourishes his Lady Mother had painstakingly planned to delight and surprise her children and visitors strolling through.  Gone was the scent of jasmine in the air.  Gone were the hummingbirds, butterflies, and other flying creatures that swarmed their mother’s plantings of favorites that always had something in bloom even in the dead of winter.

Julius found Teris at the end of the rose tree lined pathway.  The dark red, almost black, roses in bloom didn’t even give off a scent.

“I never knew the words sterile and dead could describe a garden,” Julius whispered.

“It’s about as alive as Fyntch’s heart.”  Teris said sullenly.

Julius placed a hand on his sisters shoulder.  “You were right.  I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Teris turned to him.  “This isn’t about me being right Julius.  This is about Fyntch taking yet another thing from us.”  She spun away. “As if you’d understand after you gave him everything.”

“You’re right.”  Julius said looking mournfully at the back of her head. “I gave up my heir ship too easily.  There has even been occasions when I regretted my hasty choice.  But at the time, with my duties as first son and Magic Knight pulling me apart, when I was already broken...”  He looked down and sighed, shaking his head.  “I saw no other way for my dream to survive, let alone survive myself, but to give my place to Fyntch.”  He swallowed and fought down the emotions that he had so carefully bottled and packed away in the months after their mothers death.  “I was broken after her passing, Teris.  Broken that father had used his magic to share one last memory with her; choosing to try and follow her to her death then stay here with us.”

“I was broken too!”  Teris cried spinning around to face him.  “But instead of being broken together you left us.  You left me.  In the weeks after mothers death we didn’t know if father would be comatose forever or if he’d wake and recover.  The Healers certainly weren’t any help.  No one had ever tried to commit suicide in such a way they said.  And as much as we assured everyone it was an accident we knew better.  Father was too good a memory mage to make such a mistake.”

“I couldn’t stand the sight of him.”  Julius told her.

“I couldn’t either.  It broke my heart.  My spirit.”

“You don’t understand.  I wanted to turn back time.  To pull him out of her mind before she breathed her last.  I—I  wanted to kill him for trying to leave us.”

Teris balked.

“But neither my magic or my will were strong enough.  So I left him, like he tried to leave me.”  He reached out taking a step toward her. “I’m sorry I turned out to be as selfish as he had been.  I never even gave a thought that I was leaving you as well.”

She allowed him to pull her into his arms and returned the hug, her hands hanging from the back of his shoulders, her face burrowing into his chest as she wiped her tears on his jerkin.

Julius kissed the crown of her head and put a hand there as if to hold the endearment to her.  “I’m sorry Ris.  I did what I thought was best for me and ended up making it worse for all of us.  I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know.”  She sniffed.  “You were dealing with your own pain.  If I had felt the way you had I would’ve left too.”

Julius rested his chin on her head and sighed.  He highly doubted his sister would have behaved in the manner he had; but he appreciated her finally understanding, even if it had opened old wounds and made him visit memories and emotions he had never wanted to visit again.

“My Lord.  My Lady.”  Came the rough voice of the Grounds Keeper from off the path.

Julius appreciated how he had positioned himself at the nearest tree of roses where he wouldn’t have been able to look upon them even if his feet hadn’t been facing the opposite direction.

Teris scrubbed her eyes with butt of her hand and pulled away.  She noted the wet spots her tears had left on Julius’ jerkin and uselessly brushed at them.

“What is it, Aaon?”  Julius questioned the feet on the lawn off of the path.

“If you and the Lady don’t mind, sir.  There is something I would like to show the both of you.”  Aaon said feet shuffling.

Julius looked at Teris who shrugged.  “Very well,” Julius agreed.

“This way if you please, my Lord.”  The Grounds Keeper said heading further away from the house up a second more wooded trail.  “My Lady, if you would be careful of your step.”  He said we they came to a downed branch in the middle of the path.

Finally they arrived at a glass greenhouse.  Teris furrowed her brow and looked to Julius who returned the gaze and lifted a shoulder.

Opening the door Aaon said.  “It took some doing, trying to keep all of them alive.  Mint likes shade but requires a bit more sun then this place affords.  Still, I was afraid to move them anywhere the Young Master might happen across.  Not that Master Fyntch often visits any of the outside structures mind.”

Teris entered amazed.  “It’s mothers mint.”

“Every variety and species Lady Resa owned and cultivated.”  Aaon said proudly looking about.  He stepped to one of the trays and pinched off the tops of an orange mint that had begun to flower.  “The very same day you left for the Magic Knights Exams, my Lady, Master Fyntch called me in with plans for a new garden.  Now I’m paid to do what I’m told but Master Fyntch said nothing against my propagating cuttings of this here mint before it was tilted over and composted. I didn’t tell the Young Master my plans mind but--”

Teris threw her arms around him.  “Aaon.  Thank you!”

Aaon looked nervously at Julius hands raised up, arms wide.

Julius smirked at the Grounds Keepers physical assurance that the hug hadn’t been his idea nor was he going to presume to touch a royal lady. “Teris.  You’re not thanking the poor man.  You’re torturing him.”

Teris released Aaon and turned.  The Grounds Keeper quickly turned away, picking up a set of pruning shears and stone and began sharpening. Still overcomed, Teris rushed to her brother and leapt, wrapping her arms around his neck.  The girlish action caught him off guard and Julius was pulled down to her height a rush of air escaping him.

“You’re heavier then you use to be.”  Julius informed.

“Since last time I saw you?”  She asked.

“Since the last time you rushed to me and I picked you up and swung you around.”

“Julius.” Teris said stepping back and eyeing him.  “How long ago was that. Ten.  Eleven years ago.”

“No.” Julius shook his head.  “You were maybe eight at most.”

“Like I said.  Ten or eleven years ago.”

“No. Really?  No.”

“Julius. I’m going to be seventeen.”

Julius did the math quickly in his head.  “I can’t believe it.  It’s really been ten or more years since I last did that.”

Teris chuckled.  “Want to do it again.  For old times sake.”

“Not without cloaking myself in mana.  I’d drop you or pull or break something.”

“I’m not that heavy.”

“Heavier then you were last time we did such a thing,” Julius said.

“Of course I weigh more than I did when I was eight.  I’m taller too. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I have.” Julius told giving a thin smile as he looked at her out of the corner of his eye wishing she’d stop growing.

Teris crossed her arms and challenged.  “Yami can pick me up, no problem.”

“Yeah well, Yami’s a pack of muscle stuffed inside a sixteen year old boys body.”

“Seventeen.” Teris corrected.

“Really?”

She nodded.  “His birthday was September seventeenth.”

Julius shook his head.  “You kids need to stop getting older.  Wait!  When did Yami pick you up?”

“Lots of times,” Teris shrugged.  “When I was injured and couldn’t walk.”  She said careful not to mention the labyrinth.  “Before that when I sat on his back while he did one handed push-ups.  Most recently, to throw me into the ocean.”

“When did you go to the sea?  And why doesn’t my squad ever get those kind of missions?”

“It wasn’t for a mission,” Teris laughed.  “It was for Yami’s birthday.  I chartered a boat thinking he would enjoy it.”

“And did he?”

Teris pulled her lips between her teeth and shrugged as nonchalantly as possible.  “I guess so.”

“You really like him.  Don’t you?” Julius asked.  Yami’s declaration that he loved Teris and would one day marry her floated through his mind.  He smirked thinking, you may just get your wish Yami.  So long as she makes Knights Commander.  Then the possibility that he might have to one day face his young friend in a duel at Fyntch’s order if things didn’t work out and Yami wanted to fight to free Teris from the family entered his mind and darkened his features.

“Juls.” Teris said looking worried.

Julius shook the thought from his mind.  “Sorry.  What?”

“I—never mind.  Teris looked away thinking her brothers change was because she had admitted that she had feelings for Yami.  It’s a good thing you didn’t tell him that you thought you loved him, she told herself. Who knows how he would have reacted to that.

21.2

Later that night after skipping out on tea and dessert again Teris made her way to the family's library.  She pursued her mothers gardening books and pulled out a few of Lady Resa's own journals on plans, care, techniques, and charts for the family garden.  She found the one that had been dedicated to her mother's care and cultivation of mint, putting that one on the table and everything else back.

Fyntch has no use for it, she thought, and I’m going to need all the help I can get if I’m going to keep the stuff alive.  She remembered her father teasing her mother about the amount of time and effort Lady Resa put into a weed.

“Here’s hoping Father’s right.”  Teris whispered.

Next she made her way to the back of the library which she often went unused but was still as spotless of dust as the most lived in areas of the house.

All this space when there are family's living in one room hovels, Teris thought shaking her head.  Still, she couldn’t complain too much. If her family's library was as extensive as she believed she should be able to learn something about the Master of Masters.  The Spade family.  Or, if she was very lucky, Alowishus Spade himself.

“Don’t think I’m going to be that lucky.”  Teris muttered wondering how old one had to be to lead a group of crazy zealots who’d attack and kill at your command.

The History of Chaos hadn’t been of help in giving her any answers or leading her to something that could.  Doing as happy, crazy, killer voice and Elric, from Magic Investigations, had instructed Yami and her to do, Teris had exhaustively thought up words and phrases to search the one page magical volume.  But every time the page had come up blank.  Zealot.  Blank.  Killers.  Blank.  Although kill, killing, and killed had brought up more pages than she cared to read.  Even searching for the four kingdoms had brought up nothing.  She supposed because Chaos’ history predated the Clover, Spade, Diamond, and Heart kingdoms.

She had gone back to the History of Chaos’ page two days after the attack on the base and thought Master of Masters and gotten the most confusing response of all.  ‘Insufficient image’.

Well of course it’s insufficient, she had yelled at her grimoire.  If I had a sufficient image I wouldn’t be asking you.  After slamming the tome shut and grumbling some more she had tried again.  The ink on the page moving and swirling as if trying to produce the information but unable to.  After a moment it read once again ‘insufficient image’.  She had tried everyday since then, sometimes several times a day, but no matter how long the page tried it always came up with the same response.

“Well if it’s information you want,” Teris muttered looking over the titles printed on the spines of the libraries history section, “it’s information we’ll get.”

The half moon was high, it’s faint light casting long shadows in the library when Teris closed another book irritated.  Nothing.  She had gone through two shelves of books and had found nothing.  No mention of Chaos, light or dark magic, beginnings or endings, Master’s, Yurist, nothing.  She had learned the linage of the past and current King of the Spade Kingdom all the way from the kingdoms inception but given that it had last been updated a hundred years ago there was no mention of Alowishus.  At least she could be near positive that the Zealot Leader wasn’t over a hundred.  Big help, she thought sarcastically.

She looked at the third row of books stretching her back and arms.  There had to be something, she thought.  Anything.  The Black Bulls library hadn’t been any help.  She sure wasn’t going to go to Magic Investigations asking questions.  Not after what happened her first trip there.  The library at Magic Knights Headquarters was bound to have useful information but she knew visitors were logged as were the books they had pulled.  Given that she wasn’t suppose to know Alowishus Spades name, or that the attacks on the Green Mantis, Coral Peacocks, and Purple Orcas bases had been part of a grand decoy she couldn’t just go to the library at headquarters and begin searching.  Greywright, Ellara, or even Sir Jorah, himself, would eventually see her activity in some log and there would be trouble all over again.

For kicks she took out her grimoire and opened it to the page added when she had received the History of Chaos.  Master of Masters, she thought.  Ink appeared and began to swirl on the page before ‘Insufficient Image’ finally appeared.

“What?” She asked the thing.  “Am I trying too hard?  Not hard enough?  I don’t have a clue what the carnage of Chaos looks like but you’re all to keen to show me that.”

An image began to appear.  Teris looked away.

“No! Don’t show me that.  Show me something useful.  And preferably not terrifying.”

This had become a somewhat regular conversation she had with the History of Chaos’ page.  And she was growing weary of it.

She looked back at the remaining seven shelves that might hold a book that contained some answer or further lead and bargained.  “How about you tell me which one to look at next and I’ll forgive the whole Master of Masters thing.”

The paged stayed blank.

“Figures.” She sighed snapping the grimoire shut.  Standing she put the tome in it’s pouch that hung from her belt and made her way to the wall of shelving pulling the first handful of books from shelf three.

She thought she heard something and stopped listening.  When nothing else sounded after a moment she made her way to a clear table and set down the armful of books.  Looking at the two tables that had the first two shelves worth of books on them, respectively, she felt bad for the maids who would have to clean up the mess.

She shrugged sitting and pulled the top book of the stack before her. “At least I didn’t go randomly pulling things.”  She said making herself feel better.

Her head lifted.  She had definitely heard something that time.  Standing slowly she quietly made her way to the library's entrance.  She had no idea why she was creeping.  Maybe it was the late hour, or the secrecy surrounding what she searched for, or maybe it was just that she hadn’t been home in a while and didn’t feel quite comfortable there anymore.

Teris stepped out into the hall and came face to face with her father.

“Father? What are you doing up?  You should be in bed.”  Teris reached for him and held him by an arm.  Was it just her imagination or had he lost even more weight?

“Resa.” Jaxon Nova rasped lifting a shaky hand to her face.  “I thought I heard Teris in the library.  What are you doing up my love?  Tending to your garden?”

Teris gently grabbed his hand and lower it from her cheek.  “It’s okay, Papa.”  Teris said softly.  “Let’s get you to bed.”

Lord Jaxon Nova allowed himself to be led back up the stairs.  In his sleeping chamber Teris pulled the covers back and sat him down.

“Sorry I hadn’t come to see you yet,” Teris said.  “Your valet said you were having a bad go of it and I didn’t want to distress you further.”  She looked into his vacant eyes searching for a hint of recognition that he saw or heard her.  Seeing none she sighed and moved to remove his slippers.  Finding none she scolded lightly. “It’s fall now, Papa.  The leaves are beginning to turn.  The floor is chilled.  You need to wear your house shoes.

She patted his head lovingly and kissed his forehead.  “Let’s lay you down shall we.”   She lifted up his legs and turned them into the bed.  She straightened him and adjusted his pillow.  “That’s better,” she smiled.  “Comfy?”

She saw him shiver slightly.  “I’ll warm those blankets up for you, Papa.  No need to work so hard doing it yourself.”  Her hand gave off the faintest of glows as she hovered it just above the covers moving her hand to warm the bedding evenly.  Done she closed her hand, light dying, and smiled.  “See.  Nice and toasty.”

She watched his glazed eyes sadly a moment before saying.  “Good night, Papa.”

“Good night, Teris.”  He rasped.

“Papa?” Teris called excitedly.  “Papa?”  But whatever moment of lucidity had been just that a moment.

[b-bail]

Hunting The Shield Part 1//First Day Jitters

Dean Ambrose×OC

The Undertakers daughter joins the main roster of Monday Night Raw. Does she get in way over her head when she gets involved with the shield? Let's find out!!

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

Ana-Lucia Calaway, born October 31st 1990 started training at the young age of 13. 5 years later she was in NXT fighting alongside some of the best new talent the industry has. Having gotten training from Jeff Hardy she was known for a high flying risk taking style which separated her from the rest of the women. She didn't have many friends in NXT mainly for the fact that a lot of them seemed fake and she hated drama. 

Ana stood at 5 foot with light skin, long black hair and pale green eyes. She is the true definition of an underdog. The constant judgement of in ring ability based on her height only caused her to fight harder and train longer. One of her more popular moves which people don't see often is the bait and switch. All it is, is when she is knocked onto the mat or fakes taking a long time to get up and the opponent puts space between them to taunt or set up another move she quickly gets up catching them with a super kick.

Only certain situations she can pull it off making it a rare move but when she does pull it off she does it quickly. Her other finisher is a moonsault off the top turnbuckle. One thing her father and Jeff had taught her was to constantly alter your moveset. Learn new things to catch your opponent off guard but never forget your origins. Ana’s ring name is Ana Hunt and the catchphrase the fans gave her is ‘When the Hunter Becomes the Hunted.’ And ‘Don't Hunt What You Can’t Kill.’

——

Ana had just finished a match against Baylee who in her mind is one of her more tougher opponents. Drenched in sweat and a few bruises here and there she made her way to the Gm’s office having gotten word that they needed to speak with her. Honestly it worried her because she was never called into the office so she hoped she wasn't getting in trouble.

Once she reached the office she knocked hearing a ‘come in’ she quietly opened the door freezing when she saw who was present. “Uncle Hunter? What are you doing here?” 

There stood Triple H and Stephanie McMahon. They were rarely seen down in NXT unless they were scouting during practices. Pulling her into a hug he chuckled. “What? I can't visit my favorite niece?”

Hugging back she laughed. “You only visit when you need something.” Scoffing at her answer he playfully shoved her away.

“Fine I’ll just take my offer and leave.” That confused her. What offer did he have and how did it concern her?

Curiosity was getting the best of her. “What's the offer?”

Stephanie stepped forward with some papers in her hand. “This is a contract for you. We would like you to join Monday night raw.”

There was no way they were serious? They wanted Ana to join the main roster? She knew her uncle there was a catch involved.

“What's the catch?” They explained to her that she would be in a storyline maybe a rivalry that will make the fans go insane. Most of it would be improvised and to make things more realistic the other person will start it. Agreeing with the terms Ana eagerly signed the contract. She had some packing and arranging to do then she would head to New York for Raw.

—-skip to Monday night raw—-

Walking into the arena with her duffel bag over her shoulder Ana looked around happily considering she’s here as a wrestler and not a guest of her fathers. Sadly all the years away made her forget where everything is. Not really paying attention to where she was walking she accidentally bumped into someone.

Ana recognized the women as Eve Torres. “I'm sorry. I should have been paying attention.”

Scoffing she rolled her eyes. “Yeah you should have been. Wannabes should know their place.”

Who was she calling a wannabe? Ana never really bragged about it but she is a 2nd generation wrestler. A little respect would be nice. Or at least common decency to not be a bitch. Not wanting to deal with her attitude Ana walked away in hopes to find catering because she was starving.

Walking into catering Ana smiled seeing some familiar faces. She was pulled out of her trance by John Cena yelling her name.

“Is that little miss Calaway i see?” Smiling he brought her into a hug.

“John I love you but your muscles are suffocating me.” He chuckled then let go. He was a little confused as to why she was here but happy nonetheless that she was.

“What are you doing here kiddo?” She glared at him for calling her kiddo. Knowing he says it cause of how short she is.

“Well i debut tonight.” This surprised John. Very very few people knew she was debuting. Wrapping an arm around her John led her to catering to introduce her to some new faces and surprise older ones.

She met tons of new faces and from what she could tell they liked her. John’s little tour was brought to an end when Ana was pulled away by the Bellas.

“Oh my god Ana we’ve missed you so much!” They squealed as they hugged her tight. At this rate she wasn't gonna make it to the end of the show because she was gonna suffocate. But she didn't have the heart to tell them to let go. They watched out for her back in the day and were practically her sisters.

“I've missed you girls too!” She said hugging them back before John pulled them away. 

They all grabbed some food before sitting down to catch up. They had some time to kill since the show didn’t start for another hour.

“Can i get your advice on something?” Ana asked out of the blue. To be honest she was a little nervous with this storyline. Not knowing who it was with gave her anxiety. At first she thought it was a rivalry storyline with Eve but she just hates everyone from what she heard.

“I'm in this storyline possible rivalry but i don't know who its with and i won't know until they start it. And its all improv.” 

The trio could tell why this worried the girl. Getting called up is an exciting and emotional moment. Add an improv storyline into that and that can cause emotional overload. Plus if its improv they could build up an alliance just to make it a betrayal.

“Well kiddo the best thing you can do is take a deep breath. Relax. And take it day by day. Stressing won't help you. This is your first day here. Take some time to get familiar with the arena, the superstars, and the crowd.”

The advice made her feel a little better. Nikki perked up like she always does when she has an idea.

“John you have an improv promo tonight at the start of the show. Why not take Ana out with you? Get the good vibes from the crowd. It might help with the nerves.”

Ana actually quiet liked that idea. It would help get her mind off of everything and she would get used to how many fans are here.

“Sounds good. Why don't you girls show her the locker room and help her get used to backstage?”

Agreeing with the plan the girls took Ana away from catering. First they stopped at the locker room so she could get ready and drop her stuff off, then they showed her were hair and makeup was, gorilla, trainers office, boss mans office, and knowing Ana, a nice quiet hallway to get away and prep for matches. 

By the end of the tour it was almost time for the show to start so the girls handed her off to John before walking away to get ready themselves.

“You ready to do this kiddo?” He looked down at the nervous girl.

She had no idea if she was. Honestly she was freaking out. But she smiled and nodded anyway because she was excited as well. Listening to Raws theme and the fireworks they waited patiently for Johns music. He instructed her to wait until he called her out. There was a brief pause between Raws them and Johns so the commentators could recap important events to hype tonight.

Johns music was met with a mixture of boos and cheers just how he liked it. The crowd got more vocal as he ran out on stage. Ana watched on the tv next to the curtain with a smile on her face. Once he entered the ring John requested a microphone. He waited for the crowd to die down before talking.

“St. Louis is a lively town tonight I tell ya!” He paused letting them cheer. 

“Now i know you all are expecting me to sit out here for the first half hour of the show making jokes about people backstage or somehow manage to get myself in trouble or address the attack from the shield. I was but things change. Tonight has been flipped upside down because of one person.” The crowd replied with ‘what?’

“They are surprised me enough i had to come out here and address it. This person has had a very special place in my heart for a long time. They are constantly breaking boundaries you wouldn’t believe they could without seeing it in person. So please let me introduce to you. The Hunter. Ana Hunt!”

‘I'm taking back the crown

I'm all dressed up and naked

I see what's mine and take it (Finders keepers, losers weepers)

Oh yeah

The crown

So close I can taste it!’

Ana’s theme blasted throughout the arena causing the crowd to go crazy. Which was a normal reaction for an NXT call up. But when Ana left NXT she was fave so it looks like that was carrying over to Raw. Ana walked out on stage doing her normal gimmick. (Her entrance is like paige's) waving at fans as she walked down the ramp, John held the ropes open for her causing her go roll her eyes. Walking to the corner she grabbed a mic, waving at Jerry in the process.

“Hey St. Louis!” The crowd cheered causing her to smile. Once the crowd calmed down John went to speak but was interrupted by music.

‘I hear voices in my head

They council me

They understand 

They talk to me.’

The pair looked to the stage. Ana was slightly worried that Randy was the one she was doing a storyline with. Walking at a slightly faster pace than normal the crowd watched in anticipation as Randy got into the ring and in a blink of an eye engulfed Ana in a hug. This caused the crowd to go wild because its slightly out of character for Randy.

“I've missed you so much bug.” He whispered in her ear. And it was true he missed her more than anything.

“I missed you too Randall.” That caused Randy to groan he hated when she called him that. Letting go of each other. John stepped forward with a serious look on his face. 

“I'm only gonna say this once so everyone in the back listen close. This girl right here is like our sister. She is family. You come after her you have me to deal with.”

That was the same little speech he gave everyone down in NXT which he found ridiculous. She can handle herself but she knew he was worried because WWE has been more like the attitude era these days which the company has slowly been trying to lean towards lately.

Once again music blasted through the arena but this time boos mixed with it causing Ana’s blood to run cold.

‘Sierra 

Hotel

India

Echo

Lima

Delta

Shield

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

This is my first post on Tumblr I hope everyone enjoys it and hopefully my posts will get better with time. I hope y'all enjoy

[buttsonthebeach]

Going Back

@makingourownstories gave me the joy of working with their amazing OCs! (Fun fact: I adore OC heavy pieces and character study pieces, never hesitate to commission me for them)

Thank you for commissioning me and trusting me with Kaylaya, Mihra, and Sarian!

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (Slots currently open as of 7/5/19)

Pairing: Past Kaylaya Lavellan x Solas

Rating: Teen for a brief sexual reference

***********

Kaylaya Lavellan left her hart at the perimeter of Clan Lavellan's camp, where the other harts and halla grazed. The halla keeper, Ruven, saw her at once, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

"Kaylaya - you're back! Creators, we have to wake everyone -" Ruven faltered a moment, no doubt taking in the missing vallaslin. Kaylaya had written ahead about that, but her own reflection still startled her sometimes. Bare-faced as a youth. It was not something she could afford to dwell on. She hoped they would not either. She hoped there would be only joy. After what she had seen - after Solas - she needed joy.

"Shh," Kaylaya said, smiling. "Not yet. Let it be a surprise."

It was a surprise, even to her. There were parts of her that were surprised to be back here again. To have survived all that she had survived. The Conclave, the destruction of Haven, the Winter Palace, the Crossroads and the Daarvaraad. It seemed like Kaylaya had been any number of places that wanted her dead in the last three years.

And all that while, there had been only one place she actually wanted to be. Home.

"Mihra and Sarian will be beside themselves," Ruven went on. The halla pricked up their ears, picking up on her excitement. Kaylaya breathed in deep the animal smell of them. Not a pleasant smell but one that reminded her again that she was home, home, home, the place she longed for even as she enjoyed the pageantry of Orlais, the curious customs of the humans that surrounded her in Skyhold.

Ruven's eyes drifted to Kaylaya's arm. What was still left of it, after.

"Everyone will be beside themselves," she said, hugging Kaylaya at last. It was no big deal then, the part of her that was missing. Hunters returned from hunts with parts of them gone all the time. That was what Kaylaya got to be now. A hunter, and a mother, and a friend. Inquisitor no more.

"Go back to the halla," Kaylaya said. "I'll see you later."

A quiet Dalish camp was a rare thing, and Kaylaya relished the stillness, knowing she would relish the noise even more. The stillness allowed her to take it all in. The red sails of the aravels, the scuffed wheels; the lines of laundry, the leathers tanning and the herbs drying and the wide eyes of the scouts on duty, seeing her for the first time. She met their eyes and put a finger to her lips, wanting to stretch the moment out further, to take in every detail, feel every feeling, as the morning light crested the trees. It was not exactly the same - some aravels were missing, some bore the jagged scars of the fight near Wycome. But all Kaylaya could keep thinking, over and over, like a drumbeat, was: I’m home, I’m home, I’m home.

The doors to one nearby aravels opened, and sleepy elves spilled out, the first wave of hunters preparing to go out for the day's hunt. Elas, Nagas, and Folas, brothers, still unmarried given that they tumbled out of the same aravel, the one that belonged to their parents. They saw her, and their eyes slid away, and then slid back, alarmed.

"Kaylaya!"\Folas shouted, and it was no surprise, because he was always the loud one, wasn't he? The quiet moment would be gone now. And yet Kaylaya was so happy to see him, loud or not, that she could do nothing but open her arms.

"Kaylaya's back," Folas shouted, and then there was more movement, more commotion, more and more aravel doors opening, more people to embrace. Kharis, Aeson, Taeral, Ghilanna, Lyra - so many of the people she had missed, everyone she had sought to protect - and then children she had never met, toddlers and babies, pressed into her arms, the next generation of Clan Lavellan. It was not the whole clan - not after everything that happened with the Duke - her heart ached for those who would never come home - but even with that ache it was still perfect.

Her parents got their turn of course, holding her tightly as the knot of people swirled around them, as people dashed away to start cookfires, to break out the special foods they’d been saving.

“We are so happy you are home, da’len,” her mother said quietly.

And then, finally, jostling through the crowd, there was Sarian.

Tall and lanky, a weed sprung up in her absence, auburn hair and rounded ears and already smiling wide and he was here, her son, her little flame, seventeen now, the reason she did everything she did in her three years away. He was in her arms, or perhaps she was in his given his newfound height. It did not matter. He was here, and he was unharmed, and so was she, and she had come back to him just as she had promised.

"Avise," she murmured, drawing back, cupping his cheek. "Ma da'len. You are not such a little flame now, are you?"

Sarian's eyes were darting here and there and here and there, taking in every change in his mother. Kaylaya wondered what drew his eye first, what he saw, if she had changed as much as he had. Whatever he saw, it just made him hug her again, tighter this time.

"Hi Mamae," was all he said.

Kaylaya wanted to hold him forever. This tall almost-man who was her only tether to the human mage she'd met in the woods, hair like flame, magic tingling in every part of him from the crown of his head down to his toes, his voice soft and low as the sang, as they dance, as they lay together in the woods. The human son that some had muttered she should never have borne. The one who had slipped away from the clan to infiltrate Wycome alongside the Inquisition agents, determined to do just as much as everyone else when it came to defending his home. The one secret she had kept from every single person in the Inquisition. Even Leliana with all her eyes and ears.

Even from Solas.

“Out of the way, you.”

There was only one person who would dare to move Sarian aside, and it was exactly who Kaylaya expected and hoped for. Mihra. Her oldest and most steadfast friend.

“You,” Mihra murmured as they held each other. “Are never allowed to leave again. And you’re certainly not allowed to have this much fun without me, ever.”

Kaylaya laughed, and held her as tight as she could.

There were plenty of looks as Kaylaya roamed, talked, joined in the preparations for a celebration feast. People squinting and straining as they looked at her face, as if it was some trick of the light that the vallaslin was not there. The shame started to rise in her each time someone stared. What a moment of foolishness - to give up her mark of adulthood, her most obvious tie to her family, just because of the moonlight in a glade, the way she felt in his arms. Solas. She wished she could go back, tell him to give them back to her. She wished she could go back and tell him a lot of things. She wished she could go back and hold him again, too.

But she shook the feeling off each time it came. Her arms were full enough of friends, cousins, family. Sarian stuck to her side like a watchful hound, eager to join in on every story someone told, to offer his take. Kaylaya started to hear the tales of his daring in Wycome from him and from others, instead of just from Leliana’s reports.

“You terrified me with all of that, you know,” she said to him, gently scolding.

“Did Mihra write you? Or Mamaela and Babaela?”

“No. The Inquisition agents did. You are in several official Inquisition reports, you know.”

He blushed, looked shocked, scuffed his foot in the dirt. “Probably just because I’m your son.”

“No. I never told them. Any of them.” She reached up and touched his cheek with her remaining hand. She realized with a hot bolt of sadness that she would never touch him with the other again. Never hug him the way she did when he was a little boy. “The Inquisition took many things from me, but it was never going to take that. In any case - they were genuinely impressed by you. A little confused that a human had taken such interest in the fate of Clan Lavellan, and even more confused that he was part of Clan Lavellan - but otherwise, genuinely impressed. You should be proud, avise.”

She could tell he wanted to hear more, but there were drums starting up, and sweet breads rising in stone ovens, and soon there would be dancing, and Kaylaya didn’t want to talk about all of it yet, even though it was the reason she was home at all. For now she would just soak all it up. The joy, the community, the ease of coming home.

She regaled them with stories of her dragon hunts - the Vinsomer on the rain-lashed shores of the Storm Coast, the crackle of its lightning as it tried to fight them off - the shimmering gold scales of the Abyssal High Dragon in the Western Approach - the tactics and strategies she’d used against each, the close calls, the scars she had from them. And to top it off - the necklace of all ten teeth, carefully arranged by Dagna, presented to Sarian. He marveled at it, tracing the grooves and points of each tooth, smiling up at her where she stood on a tree stump, telling her tale.

And again, like a ghost, his name rose to her mind. Solas.

He’d been there for every one of those fights, after all. He always came straight to her side afterwards, checking her for injuries, sweet and gentle in his concern. He always told her stories of dragons by the firelight, of other great beasts their ancient ancestors used to hunt. She could still hear the lilt of his voice, the warmth of it, in her mind. His voice had been the same when he told her the truth of Elvhenan. The truth of who he was. When he’d left her again, in agony, in that world between worlds.

How torn she had felt then, how sad, how determined to save this man that she loved.

Now - surrounded by her clan, her son at her side, Mihra beside him - she felt only anger.

How dare he look at this world - these people - and see anything other than a place to call home? A place worth defending with his life?

The celebrations wound down, and people had to go on with their day, and that was when Kaylaya managed to draw Mihra and Sarian aside. She owed them the fullest explanation she owed anyone of what had happened. Of what had to come next.

She took them aside, away from the cozy cluster of aravels. Not far enough that they could not hear and see them, though. She needed the strength of everything they represented.

“I have a lot to tell you,” she began. “And I think I need to start at the beginning.”

So she did. She started with the quiet apostate whose stories so entranced her, who seemed so alone in the world, who frustrated her with his comments on the Dalish but always helped every refugee, every sad and lonely person he could find. She said how she’d grown to love him, how he’d grown to love her, how something had always stood between them nonetheless. How she had assumed, selfishly, that at least part of it was that he knew she was holding back too. That she had secrets of her own. How in the end his secrets dwarfed each and every one of hers.

Mihra was the one who spoke first when she was done. “So what will we do?”

Kaylaya felt the tears swarm up behind her eyes at that one simple word. We. She had not even asked them yet, and already they had said yes. Mihra with her words, and Sarian with his eager posture and his earnest eyes.

“I told my advisors I would find people he doesn’t know, and that I would save him from himself, if I could. But being back here - seeing you again - it reminds me that if he can’t see the beauty in this world he doesn’t deserve to be saved. And I can make my peace with that.”

Their arms were around her again, holding her, and Kaylaya knew she was really home.

[mariaslozak]

Witch-themed romance reads, some past, some future, with a couple of books from other genres.

Bewitched, an anthology by Lisa Higdon, Susan Krinard, Amy Elizabeth Saunders, and Maggie Shayne, whose novella Everything She Does Is Magick has a Sleeping Beauty-esque trio of aunts furtively wielding their magic to ensure the unwitting hero’s virginity stays intact until such a time as he and their protegee will fall for each other. Whether you’ll enjoy it probably depends on your feelings about the premise and if the enemies to lovers interaction between the heroine and hero strikes you as hilarious or immature.

Eternity by Maggie Shayne “Three hundred years ago, Raven St. James was accused of witchcraft...Only one man tried to free her from the hangman's noose--Duncan, the town minister, who died trying to save her. Three hundred years later, the accused witch still lives and longs for her love...At last, after centuries of loneliness, Raven has found her precious Duncan. But as he awakens to the passion of his past life, so too does the evil that tore them apart. Now Raven and Duncan must prove their love for all eternity.” (TBR)

The Witch and the Warrior by Karyn Monk, a medieval set in Scotland. “Suspected of witchcraft, Gwendolyn MacSween has been condemned to being burned at the stake at the hands of her own clan. Yet rescue comes from a most unlikely source. Mad Alex MacDunn, laird of the mighty rival clan MacDunn, is a man whose past is scarred with tragedy and loss. His last hope lies in capturing the witch of the MacSweens--and using her magic to heal his dying son. He expects to find an old hag....Instead he finds a young woman of unearthly beauty. There's only one problem: Gwendolyn has no power to bewitch or to heal. Now she must pretend to be a sorceress--or herself perish.” (TBR; have enjoyed a couple of non-medieval historicals by this author.)

A Witch’s Handbook of Kisses and Curses by Molly Harper. “Nola Leary would have been content to stay in Kilcairy, Ireland, healing villagers at her family’s clinic with a mix of magic and modern medicine. But a series of ill-timed omens and a deathbed promise to her grandmother have sent her on a quest to Half-Moon Hollow, Kentucky, to secure her family’s magical potency for the next generation. Complication One: the artifacts [she needs to unearth] are lost somewhere in what is now Jane Jameson's book shop. Complication Two: her new neighbor, Jed Trudeau, who keeps turning up half naked at the strangest times, a distraction Nola doesn't need.” (Currently reading.)

Met By Moonlight by Rosemary Edghill. “When modern day witch Diana Crossways plunges back to 1647 England, she learns that a mysterious man she saw in Salem, Massachusetts is a notorious witch hunter. He holds the power of life and death over Diana--but she also inflames his desire.” (I gave this one a B a few years back.)

Magical Memories by Donna Fletcher. Contemporary set in Scotland. “As one of the world’s most powerful witches, Tempest possesses the ability to do anything - except men her own broken heart. Many years ago, her lover was corrupted by his own magic power, and she was forced to imprison him in a mystical limbo. Unable to forgive herself, Tempest has never allowed another man to get close to her... until now. While navigating her car through a fierce blizzard, Tempest accidentally hits Michael Deeds, injuring his leg. [At her home, where she has taken him to heal, the two begin to fall for each other.] But is Michael the new love she’s been searching for - or someone from her past she dared not believe she’d ever see again?” (TBR)

Bewitching by Jill Barnett. Regency. “Alec, Duke of Belmore, did as he pleased - and he wanted to marry the beautiful, bubbly girl who had positively bewitched him: Joyous MacQuarrie, who had appeared from nowhere and turned stately Belmore Park upside down with merriment and mischief. It hardly mattered that her Scottish bloodline was shrouded in mystery. But Alec's heated desire turned ice-cold when he discovered that this winsome lady was, in fact, a witch --- whose powers of white magic were not always perfectly under control ...Too late, Joy knew she was desperately in love and that nothing could stop the course of their destiny --- the scandal threatening to destroy her and the passion that held them both spellbound in a forbidden, irresistible match.” (This charmed an A from me and became an instant favourite a long time ago.)

Thornyhold by Mary Stewart. From a different period than her wonderful vintage romantic suspense, this book has a much subtler, quieter flavour, being sweet and gentle instead of tense and gothicky. The romance is secondary. “To Cilly, the house, deep in the wild wood, was an enchantment, left to her by the cousin whose occasional, magical visits had brightened her childhood. And as she explored, she discovered more about the woman who had come to seem like a fairy godmother to her: her herbalist’s skills, her still room, her abilities to foresee and heal. She discovered also that the local people believed that Cilly had inherited not just the house but the magical spell-weaving powers that lived on in the house and garden. Slowly, she came to realise that they were right.” (This one needs a reappraisal from me as my original, long ago C+ was based on disapponted expectations.)

50 Ways To Hex Your Lover by Linda Wisdom. @ameliafeministpeabody‘s recent mention inspired me to add this humorous contemporary paranormal, first in a series, to my TBR! The heroine is “a witch who can’t stay out of trouble” and the hero “a vampire cop on the trail of a serial killer.”

Sorcerer to the Crown by Zen Cho. Romantic historical fantasy. The author apparently has mentioned Georgette Heyer and Susannah Clarke (Jonathan Stange and Mr. Norrell) as her major influences. “At his wit’s end, Zacharias Wythe, freed slave, eminently proficient magician, and Sorcerer Royal of the Unnatural Philosophers—one of the most respected organizations throughout all of Britain—ventures to the border of Fairyland to discover why England’s magical stocks are drying up.But when his adventure brings him in contact with a most unusual comrade, a woman with immense power and an unfathomable gift, he sets on a path which will alter the nature of sorcery in all of Britain—and the world at large...” (Reading next)

The Witches of New York by Ami McKay. Gilded Age fantasy fiction. “Two hundred years after the trials in Salem, Adelaide Thom has left her life in the sideshow to open a tea shop with another young woman who feels it's finally safe enough to describe herself as a witch: a former medical student and "gardien de sorts" (keeper of spells), Eleanor St. Clair. Together they cater to Manhattan's high society ladies, specializing in cures, palmistry and potions--and in guarding the secrets of their clients. All is well until one bright September afternoon, when an enchanting young woman named Beatrice Dunn arrives at their door seeking employment. Beatrice soon becomes indispensable as Eleanor's apprentice, but her new life with the witches is marred by strange occurrences. She sees things no one else can see. She hears voices no one else can hear. Objects appear out of thin air, as if gifts from the dead. Has she been touched by magic or is she simply losing her mind? Eleanor wants to tread lightly and respect the magic manifest in the girl, but Adelaide sees a business opportunity. Working with Dr. Quinn Brody, a talented alienist, she submits Beatrice to a series of tests to see if she truly can talk to spirits. Amidst the witches' tug-of-war over what's best for her, Beatrice disappears, leaving them to wonder whether it was by choice or by force.As Adelaide and Eleanor begin the desperate search for Beatrice, they're confronted by accusations and spectres from their own pasts. In a time when women were corseted, confined and committed for merely speaking their minds, were any of them safe?” (TBR, thanks to @seashells-and-bookshelves)

Dance Upon The Air by Nora Roberts. One of the consistently best loved romances by this genre legend. “When Nell Channing arrives on charming Three Sisters Island, she believes that she’s finally found refuge from her abusive husband - and from the terrifying life she fled so desperately eight months ago. But even in this quiet, peaceful place, Nell never feels entirely at ease. Careful to conceal her true identity, she takes a job as a cook at the local bookstore café - and begins to explore her feelings for the island sheriff, Zack Todd. But there is a part of herself she can never reveal to him - for she must continue to guard her secrets if she wants to keep the past at bay. One careless word, one misplaced confidence, and the new life she’s created so carefully could shatter completely. Just as Nell starts to wonder if she’ll ever be able to break free of her fear, she realizes that the island suffers under a terrible curse - one that can only be broken by the descendants of the Three Sisters, the witches who settled the island back in 1692. And now, with the help of two other strong, gifted women—and with the nightmares of the past haunting her every step—she must find the power to save her home, her love…and herself.” (TBR)

The Witches of All Saints by Jill Tattersall. Vintage gothic Regency. “It is February, 1811, in the countryside outside Brighton, England. In every house are people who have been terrified by the most brutal murder ever to occur in the area. Not only has this murder of well-known young woman shocked and repulsed them; it has also raised their deepest suspicions and fears for the safety of their own lives. For the murder had been the handiwork of more than one person, in fact of a group. A group of witches.Tansy Tremayne, coming to live with her aunt's family on their estate, arrived at the dreadful moment of the murder itself - indeed, witnessed a part of the ritual. Witnessed and was witnessed - by one of the participants. He was wrapped in witch's robe, the thin, diabolical music of the flute playing around him. He was someone Tansy would recognize...“ (Tattersall wrote several of the better gothics in the sixties and seventies. B- from me.)

[indischen]

Get to Know the Hope Diamond’s Keeper

The Hope Diamond has a complicated past. It came from India and was sold to King Louis XIV in 1669 as part of the French Crown Jewels. During the French Revolution, the diamond was stolen, resurfacing in London in the early 1800s when it was bought by Henry Philip Hope. From then on, the gemstone passed from person to person until it was donated to the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History on November 10, 1958.

Today the diamond lays in the museum’s Hall of Geology, Gems, and Minerals, under the care of Dr. Jeffrey Post, the Curator-in-Charge of Gems and Minerals.

We caught up with Post to hear the story of this infamous blue diamond, see what makes the National Gem and Mineral Collection so special and learn about the countless things mineralogy can reveal about the past and future.

It’s been 62 years since the museum acquired the Hope Diamond. What have we learned about the diamond since then?

Most of our visitors see the Hope Diamond as a valuable gemstone with a long human history. But it’s not only a historic jewel. It’s also a very interesting scientific object. Since 1958, we’ve added science to the story about the Hope Diamond.

When the diamond first came to the museum, no one knew that after exposure to ultraviolet light it would phosphoresce a bright orange color, like an ember at the bottom of a barbeque grill. That was only discovered in the late ‘60s. And now with even better instruments, we know the diamond is actually emitting both red and blue-green light. It just looks orange to our eyes. We’ve also realized that all blue diamonds phosphoresce, although they each emit a slightly different color. That phenomenon is caused by a boron impurity that also gives the diamonds their blue color in ordinary light.

Another thing we’ve been able to do with modern science is recreate the cutting history of the Hope Diamond. Through computer simulations, we modeled how the Hope Diamond was cut from the French Blue owned by King Louis XIV and that came from a diamond from India. This research led us to two strong conclusions: First, the Hope Diamond is the recut version of the French Blue diamond. Second, by looking at how it would have been recut, we determined that everything that was removed had to have been ground away. So, there are no other pieces of the Hope Diamond in the world.

What excites you most about your work besides getting to care for the Hope Diamond?

We work in this incredibly interesting place where objects, history and people converge. Every day, I learn something new. I get to learn about and have held in my hand some of the Earth’s great treasures.

I also love going into the Hall of Geology, Gems, and Minerals and watching people interact with the objects on display. I really do believe that gems and minerals can act as unintimidating portals into science. I love watching people experience the thrill of discovery when they realize these things came out of the Earth. The knowledge that these minerals and gems form naturally in such beautiful, geometric shapes is something that gives people a sense of awe.

What are some of your favorite minerals or gems in the collection?

Whichever one is in my hand at the time! But really, it is hard to pick one. Every day I walk into our vault area and my eye is caught by something I haven’t looked at in a long time and that becomes my favorite mineral for the day.

If there was a threat to the collection and I had to grab whatever I could to take, one of the things I would grab is a diamond crystal called the Oppenheimer Diamond. There are very few large diamond crystals preserved in the world. It’s just this beautiful shape and pale yellow. It is truly a treasure. You could travel the world’s many museums and not find another one. We have many unique objects, but that is one I’ve always found particularly special.

What are some surprising things that objects in the collection have revealed?

We have another blue diamond called the Blue Heart Diamond. While the Hope Diamond phosphoresces bright orange, the Blue Heard Diamond emits a whitish blue color. Looking at the phosphorescent difference between those two diamonds prompted us to look at a bunch of other blue diamonds. We realized phosphorescent spectra could be used as a fingerprint for any specific blue diamond. That was a surprising revelation, and we couldn’t have done that research without the Blue Heart Diamond.

What does mineralogy tell us about the world’s past, present and future?

Minerals are the basic building blocks of solid Earth and the solid solar system. Everything we know about the history of a meteorite, a moon rock or an Earth rock is because of information stored in its minerals. Even fossils are preserved in minerals. So, for example, if I can understand how minerals have been altered because of changes in the environment over the course of time, perhaps I can predict what will happen in the future.

One way we do that is by making polished sections of mineral crystals to look at their interiors — much like looking at the cross-section of a tree and using its rings to trace its history. These sections show us what’s changed in a mineral from when it was created to present day. It’s like a time capsule that has the information about when and where that mineral formed.

The value of the collection is that we can keep interrogating those minerals. None of us are arrogant enough to think we’ve learned everything we can about the collection. When I think of my early career and what questions our field was asking and what technology we had… I never could have even predicted the kinds of questions we can ask and answer now. We maintain this collection so that it’s continuously available. Scientists will always have access to it.

Meet a SI-entist: The Smithsonian is so much more than its world-renowned exhibits and artifacts. It is a hub of scientific exploration for hundreds of researchers from around the world. Once a month, we’ll introduce you to a Smithsonian Institution scientist (or SI-entist) and the fascinating work they do behind the scenes at the National Museum of Natural History.

[tanuki-kimono]

Japanese folk tales #46 - The dragon bridge

Here is a dragon story as requested by @phantasmachine. Hope you’ll like it!

Find my tales tagged here or visit my blog for both english and french versions.

Wish me to cover a special youkai or subject? Contact me, I’ll try to accommodate ^^❤️

Once upon a time, there was a nobleman named Hidesato. He was a famous warrior, a keen archer, and his brave temper made him crave adventure.

He had lead many battles and defeated fierce beasts all across the kingdom. Yet, his audacious heart always carried him further on the road.

One day, after long hours of travel, Hidesato came by a wide lake. Deep green and serene as a mirror, it spread as far as the eye could see, but strangely no rafts glided over its tranquil waters.

The warrior stopped a bunch of weary farmers and asked:

– I am going back to the capital. Is there any way to cross the lake?

The peasants blinked in sheer horror and shook their heads, pleading:

– My lord, it is madness travelling in this area! If you follow that path, you’ll meet your doom! There is only one bridge here, and it’s a dragon’s lair!

This struck Hidesato’s curiosity. Without listening to the farmer’s’ advice, he went on his way, eager to see by himself if indeed a rare mythical creature lived in this remote place.

And soon enough, the bridge came in sight. It was a formidable structure, with hundred of vermilion pillars plunging into dark waters. It overlooked the widest part of the lake, the other bank so far away one could only guessed its presence.

Not a fowl flew, not a fish swam. Hidesato was not a man to ponder over things for too long. He shrugged, then stepped boldly onto the bridge.

On the floor, a frayed straw rope seemed to show the way. Yet, step after step, the warrior realised that what he had first thought to be a rope was getting bigger and bigger. Soon, straw turned to lacquered red scales.

The rope was the dragon’s tail.

Coiling tightly over and under the bridge, the magnificent beast seemed deeply asleep, its whole body trembling with each breath. Hidesato muttered:

– I have not come this far to run off like a coward…

And walking as quietly as he could, the noble man kept going, lightly jumping over paws big as trunks, avoiding quivering whiskers as thick as his hands.

Hidesato made the last few steps to the bank nearly running. But as soon as he set one foot on land, the bridge went shaking behind him. And the whole wooden structure crumbled down, immediately engulfed by dark waves.

Hidesato gasped and reached for his bow: in front of him, floating over the gushing waters, stood the most fearsome woman he had ever seen.

Brushing away deep red hair which flowed madly around the smooth antlers crowning her head, she shoot a smile too full of sharp teeth as her voice rumbled like thunder caught by dark clouds:

– Lower your bow, human! For I am daughter of the Dragon king, keeper of the lake, and I won’t harm you. For years I have waited for a brave soul who would dare to cross that bridge, one who would become my champion and slay my enemy.

Her golden gaze turned forlorn, stoking Hidesato chivalrous’ nature. She extended a refined clawed hand showing a looming mountain:

–  There lives Omukade, the centipede with blazing eyes. It has killed many of my kin and they say only a human will destroy it.

Hidesato  did not hesitate. He bowed solemnly, as utterly inconsiderate of danger:

– I will my lady, this I swear!

The warrior put on his armor, took his swords and bow and walked to the gloomy mountain. Over him, skies turned grey and heavy as earth grew stark and bleak. And before he had realised, the night had fallen, still and menacing.

The whole world quaked.

Holding his breath, Hidesato opened blind eyes in the dark, darting his bow all around. Beneath him, rocks rattled, pulsing.

In the distance, a sickening clattering sound rose, like hundred and hundred of swords scraping over wet stones. Fighting the cold shiver creeping up and down his spine, Hidesato took cover behind a boulder, his clammy hands tight around his weapon.

The clatter came closer and closer, and suddenly, night vanished. Blazing like wild fire, huge as temple bells, the eyes of Omukade swept the darkness away. Its was a gigantic beast, its carapace shining with a grim glow. A foul scent of putrid corpses left Hidesato gagging for air.

The centipede towered above the archer, hissing between sharp mandibles:

– The dragoness send a mere human after me? Oh little champion, beg, beg for mercy and I’ll might spare your miserable life.

Thunder rolled, tearing up the skies. Hidesato bent his bow and yelled like a madman as he loosed his arrow.

The first bounced on the beast’s armor. Clacking its hundred legs, Omukade rose ready for the kill. But, before it could attack, a red lightning struck from the heavens. Coiling hard around her nemesis, the dragoness had sprang into battle, all fangs and claws.

As the seething giants fought, Hidesato aimed again and let a second arrow loose, without success. Cursing, the warrior dodged a whipping tail. Suddenly, as he ducked under armored legs, he recalled what his old wet nurse said:

“Young master, if a centipede bite you, spit on it. Those creatures loathe human saliva.”

Hidesato seized a third arrow and put the head into his mouth. Then, standing tall, he bent his bow and yelled:

– Right here, Omukade!

As the fuming monster turned his flaming eyes towards him, the archer let his arrow free. And this time, it did not bounced: the projectile pierced the carapace, tearing it as it was no more than silk. Blazing eyes closed forever and night fell again.

Rain started to drizzle, healing the earth, as the dragoness uncoiled, taking her human form back. Her fine gown was torn and bloodied, yet she was smiling, a wild glimmer in her eyes:

– You did well champion, and my kin is now indebted to you. As a thank, I will let you stay in my palace under the lake to rest and feast to your heart’s content.

She extended her clawed hands and a gush a mist blanketed them. When he opened his eyes, a stunned Hidesato discovered an amazing palace of coral walls and mother of pearl floors.

They say Hidesato drifted in the dragon palace for more than a day. And when he left, the grateful dragoness gifted him true treasure: clear ringing bells, a magical cooking pot, an enchanted roll of silk, and a bag of rice always miraculously full.

And the world never forgot his reckless bravery.

Notes:

Fujiwara no Hidesato is a true historical figure whose fate intertwined with mythical stories. Today’s tale is better know as popular story “My lord bag of rice” which follows the very traditional “Let’s kill the big bad monster” setup.

Here the evil creature is a giant youkai named Omukade, a monstrous centipede which is said to have lurked on Mount Mikami. In Japan, centipedes are always depicted as vile and malicious, embodying dark chthonic forces. Those insects are known for their highly painful bite, and a folk belief said spitting over the wound would make the venom disappeared (spoiler: it doesn’t).

The dragon (or snake) on the bridge is a famous motif. Asian dragons have always been associated which water (be it sea, rivers, rain, or lakes). People even thought dragons lived coiled into clouds or in breathtaking underwater palaces. In the tale “My lord bag of rice”, the dragon is sometimes a lady sometimes Ryujin, the sea dragon king himself. But true to their auspicious nature, both always gives the hero treasures symbolizing plenty and abundance.

[pictures sources: 1 / 2 / 3]